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paullicino · 3 years ago

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Ten Years

Taken from my Patreon.

Ten years is a long time. It’s long enough for many things to change, but also long enough for everything to remain the same.

I remember ten years ago as if it were yesterday, as if it passed by in the blink of an eye, with light and shadow, textures and taste all as familiar as ever.

A morning after. Shocked faces. A phone call. Events barely believable, yet all too real.

Ten years ago, my then partner and I were living in a top floor flat off Tottenham High Road. It was sweltering in the summer and the downstairs neighbours played dance music at four in the morning. But the views out the back bedroom window were of valleys of rooftops, sprouting television aerials and summited in the winter by the briefest dustings of snow.

The sun was for the front of the flat. The moon shone into our bedroom.

I remember that sunlight in the afternoon, sparkling through the shifting foliage of the tall trees outside. And I remember summer most of all. August.

We had a tap. A faucet. A great, overwrought thing that our landlady was obsessed with. It was the best tap ever, she said. It was large, curved and heavy, the pharaonic headdress worn atop a newly-fitted kitchen of which she was so proud. Wasn’t it exciting that we had such a good tap?

We just wanted our bed repaired. Our home wasn’t finished when we moved in and we slept on the sofa for weeks. When the mighty tap was finally installed, it was too heavy for its fitting. It teetered. Along with poorly-mounted cupboard doors with handles that prevented other cupboards from opening, its practicality was an afterthought.

The walk up Tottenham High Road took me to the only two locations I ever really visited, the supermarket and the job centre. The supermarket provided us with affordable food (though I’d watched the price of many staples almost double over five years) and the job centre provided me, an unemployed person, the money with which to buy that food.

The job centre, which was now extra special and had been rebranded Job Centre Plus, did not provide anyone the means with which they could get a job. It spent almost all of its time providing people with unemployment benefits. Most of the thousands of Tottenham residents who poured through its doors would’ve taken a job if they could’ve found one, but the listings at the centre itself were usually out of date, irrelevant or in some other way misfiled. Most employers don’t want to list their vacancies at the Job Centre Plus because they don’t want to employ the kind of people who go there.

Out of the Job Centre Plus and the supermarket, which one do you think burned that August?

I have written before about my strongest memory of the Job Centre Plus, but here it is again. It was of an old foreign woman and her daughter trying to speak to a clerk. The old woman didn’t speak English, so her daughter was attempting to explain that the woman was looking for work and thus registering as unemployed to gain unemployment benefit. The clerk was trying to explain that the woman was too old to work and should also be on disability benefit. The daughter was trying to explain that they had tried to navigate those systems and that they were obtuse and broken. Her mother just needed money. To live.

(Ten years before, in the summer of 2001, I’d first looked at the cost of moving out. I looked at rents around my Hampshire town, at the cost of housing and at the wages I needed to earn. England was expensive, I decided. It sure cost a lot just to live.)

Everyone was trying to explain everything. The job centre mostly wanted to give people their money and get rid of them, because there were many more lined up behind.

My strongest memory of the supermarket was of the man outside with no legs. He sat there panhandling in his wheelchair almost every day of the year. Britain had just launched its latest Astute-class nuclear submarine, each of which costs over one and a half billion pounds, but it was still a country where a man with no legs had to beg outside a shop.

I thought about that man long after I left Tottenham. I think about him here, now, ten years on.

My partner went abroad to see family and I spent some of the summer restarting my career as a freelance writer. I was fortunate with the connections and opportunities that I had, none of which would ever be found at a job centre, and I spent a lot of my time writing either to find work or simply for practice. I was writing on the night my street burned.

It began before dusk and I came home to find enormous police vehicles parked outside, the sort that are mobile command headquarters. Chains of armoured riot vans surged north. I heard there’d been a protest outside the police station and that a car or two had been burned. I checked the news occasionally. It didn’t have much to add.

Police vans kept coming, though all other traffic had stopped. The roads were closed, blocked by the police, and the latest news told me that petrol bombs had been thrown and a bus set alight. The reports were sparse.

The police in England are really good at responding to riots. They turn up in great swathes, on horses, in vans, or on foot and armed with batons and shields. They have all kinds of exciting equipment to help them. A year before, they’d kettled schoolchildren protesting the huge increase in university tuition fees, surrounding and slowly crushing hundreds of them in Trafalgar Square and on Westminster Bridge. Footage emerged of them beating the shit out of kids or dragging people out of wheelchairs. Here they were now in Tottenham, ready for more.

I kept trying to find news. The police had cordoned off most of the High Road, which meant the journalists that were arriving had no ability to find what was happening inside the riot. Distant footage of fires was the best most of them could provide. As I remember it now, the BBC had one van inside of the police cordon and couldn’t broadcast out because its dish had been damaged. I also have memories of a single journalist, almost in the thick of a mob, asking rioters to give them a moment to explain why they were protesting, or wondering why on earth they might want to block a BBC camera crew who were trying to film them.

What an inane question.

I found the news I wanted. I found it via Twitter and social media. And it was terrifying.

Broadcast news had described a riot not unlike any other. But the still relatively new sphere of social media was overflowing with witness statements, photographs and the kind of low-quality video that phones captured back then. People across Tottenham were panicking as they described growing crowds on the High Road burning not only vehicles, but also shops and businesses. They were breaking into commercial properties. They were looting. They were starting more fires. This had begun half a mile away from my home and it was spreading outward. The post office burned. Landmark businesses burned. Local shops burned and, with them, the flats and homes located above.

The updates kept coming and it’s almost impossible for me now to try to describe to you not only the sheer volume of panic and distress that waterfalled down my feed, but also the sense of utter hopelessness that came with it. People beyond the High Road described not just the violence spilling into their streets, the fights and the hundreds of looters, the fires and the damage, but also how there was no one who could stop this. No emergency services responded. Their phones went unanswered or the lines were jammed.

I read update after update that echoed the same, basic fact, something which I still struggle to comprehend even now, something I’d describe as barely believable: No help was coming.

But the social media updates kept coming. Looters were turning up with empty vans and loading them up with everything they could take. Buildings were being destroyed. A whole estate was being evacuated.

The news provided by the BBC and its peers remained limp and languid, so I spent all night reading these updates, discovering more nearby shops were being gutted, or how the retail park near me was looted to the point of emptiness, and I watched as even my own view out the window became broiling crowds of countless restless and angry people. I remember one man walking off into the darkness with brand new flatscreen televisions under each arm, the police vans now long gone. The night was regularly punctuated by shouts, screams, thumps and sometimes what might have been explosions. The sirens were always distant. The helicopters came and went.

I don’t know where the police cordon had gone. It felt almost as if they had given up and let Tottenham run rampant.

The sun came up and from that back bedroom window I saw smoke rising. I hadn’t slept. The news was full of irrelevant speculation and so, at five-thirty, I put on my shoes and walked the High Road. What I saw was barely believable. Sometimes I met the stunned gazes of other people doing the same, sometimes I avoided any eye contact. I have kept a diary for a long time now and this is what I recorded (slightly edited):

“This morning at about 5:30, as the sun rose, I tried to wander through Tottenham to take some pictures. It became one of the scariest walks I've ever taken.

The atmosphere was tense and unpleasant. Columns of smoke snaked upwards and the High Road and several other streets were blocked off or packed with police vehicles, many more of which were endlessly arriving, some from as far away as Kent.

The nearby retail park was littered with debris and many of its shopfronts were smashed. Groups of people, perhaps gangs, loitered everywhere. While some areas were busy with police officers, others were neglected and patrolled by hostile looking young men.

I didn't end up taking many pictures. I kept moving. Depending upon where you walk, Tottenham looks like a cross between a blitz bomb site and the mess after a chaotic festival.

Something still feels very different. Tottenham has hardly been rosy at the best of times, but today the sunshine can't seem to dispel a strange chill in the air. I myself can't stop thinking of all the homes that burned last night. It might not be immediately obvious to many people, but above a great deal of those shops set ablaze were flats, often family homes for very poor people. Many of those who had little now have less.”

A day after those first riots hit Tottenham, they went nationwide. London wasn’t done and, for a week, many major cities in England played host to their own riots. Tottenham was totally locked down, but it was far too late. The disorder had moved elsewhere.

I remember telling a colleague I worked with that I wouldn’t be finishing something that weekend. He laughed at the news and imagined it would all blow over. He was from a much wealthier background.

Then, everyone started trying to explain everything.

The BBC caught up with events the way a great-grandparent catches up with technology, fumbling and frowning. Goodness me, they said, in their middle class, broadcast-trained voices, and they joined in with the three broad lines of discussion that emerged. One asked how this could happen, one asked why this had happened, and one was about how this would never happen again, because the law would be firmer than ever, the punishments and prosecutions authoritative and absolute. The police were ready for more. They were going to get water cannons. I imagine those work particularly well on kids and wheelchairs.

There was a lot of talk about punishment, including from the Prime Minister, who decided to stop being on holiday in Tuscany only after England’s third night of rioting. I wonder if he had imagined it would all blow over.

Sometimes there was talk involving the people of Tottenham themselves, but it was more likely to be talk about them. A lot of people in Tottenham are Black and have families that trace back to the very first Windrush immigrants of the late 1940s. One Black Labour MP said it was important to talk about their experiences in London, their economic situation and their history of treatment by the police. After all, the spark that had set these riots alight was a protest outside the police headquarters, subsequent to the suspicious shooting of Mark Duggan, a Black man, something that called to mind a similarly suspicious death of a Black woman that also precipitated Tottenham’s 1985 riots.

For some people, the discussion became about how Black people had started the riots and been the chief participants. This wasn’t reflected in anything I saw either on social media or with my own eyes, in person, on the night. But nobody was stopping to ask me what I thought or what I saw.

Not long after that first riot, my partner called me to check I was okay and to ask if those barely believable things she’d seen on the news were really as bad as they seemed. They were. I rode the bus up the High Road on my way to Wood Green, then later to Walthamstow, both of which offered me temporary job centres that took the overspill from ours, thoroughly gutted by fire and then looted of all of its copper piping. The bus crept past burned-out shops and homes. I don’t know where those people have gone.

Later that year, my partner and I discovered that our income was low enough that we were eligible for housing benefit. It took us so long to try to apply for it that we moved home before any progress was made. When I found enough work to support myself, I visited the job centre to sign off, as we called it, to close my file. I asked a woman at reception what I needed to do. “Nothing,” she said, as the line behind me wound down several stories of stairs and out into the grey autumn street. “Just stop coming. Stop coming.”

Winter came and things rustled in the walls. There was a long, tall hedge along the High Road and I would look out the window to see men using it as a urinal. I only had to live in Tottenham for around a year and a half and I have good memories from that flat, but I also remember a stifling and sad place to live, from which I was lucky to move on. Tottenham was never my home and I never had to stay there, but I certainly feel that I came to get a sense of the place.

After moving out, our ex-landlady complained that we hadn’t left the oven as clean as she would’ve liked. She hiked the rent 9% while we were staying there. She never fixed anything that broke and provided excuses instead of solutions.

I found more work. I taught games and narrative for a semester at a small institution in East London. One of the things I asked my students to consider was the stories and the experiences of people who weren’t like them. I asked them to share how often they had been stopped and randomly searched by airport security. “Not just at the airport,” one student reminded me. “On the tube. On the street.”

My life continued to improve in many ways, but I still remembered the man in the wheelchair. The BBC and many other media outlets continued to talk about poverty and race, but not always to poor people or to people who weren’t white. In 2014 I wrote On Poverty and one of the most surprising responses I repeatedly received from people was “I had no idea that it was like this.” A friend of mine tried to apply for support for chronic health problems and documented her many struggles, including being required to explain exactly how many times a week she suffered from migraines (“You said it was two or three times a week. Well, is it two, or is it three?”). The news regularly reported growing homelessness, rising use of food banks and the inevitable deaths of people who weren’t just failed by broken systems, apathy and a lack of understanding, but also simply too poor to be alive.

I feel like some of the people I knew didn’t like how I kept returning to these topics. I feel, even more, that they didn’t at all understand. I remember some of these people waiving off the Brexit referendum as it approached, certain the country wouldn’t vote to amputate itself from the European Union. I don’t think they understood and I don’t think they’d seen the unhappy England that I had, both as a child and as an adult. I think they’d only seen, and been, very comfortable people.

I think these people would call themselves open-minded, progressive and keen to make the world better. I’m sure they could explain those views. At length.

If I think of those people now, I’m quite sure they are all still very comfortable, ten years on. I also think there is still a good chance that man is sat in that wheelchair outside of that supermarket, though he could also be dead by now, again simply too poor to be alive. No longer able to watch the sun sparkle through tall trees, see roofs dusted with snow or catch the moon peeping through his bedroom window.

Such things aren’t for poor people. We still get frustrated when we give them benefits or find out they own mobile phones.

---

Ten years on, Tottenham is almost a dream, a memory where the details have faded and the edges have softened. I have moved countries, had the privilege of travelling through work, enjoyed many different creative opportunities and benefited from free healthcare that has addressed difficult, long-term health issues. I have rationed my life according to a tight budget, but I’ve never had to face the overwhelming, unending hardships of others that I’ve shared neighbourhoods and postcodes with. I cannot ignore these people because they have so often been one street away, visiting the same shop or riding the same train. They are not an abstraction, they are right there, ready to tell us all about their lives.

Ten years on, Tottenham has one of the UK’s fastest-growing rates of unemployment, the latest statistic in the region’s long history of joblessness and poverty. Many of its residents, like poor people across the country, live paycheck to paycheck, at risk of financial ruin should they experience a single upheaval. Ten years on, the most reliable predictor of success and financial stability in the UK (as in many developed countries) is now considered to be the circumstances of your birth. The idea of social mobility is more irrelevant than ever, with much of your destiny decided before you are even born. Ten years on, almost a quarter of the population of the UK lives in poverty.

Ten years on, continued austerity, government apathy and cuts to social services has meant that, yes, ten years really is enough time for everything to stay the same. Without change, the problems people face become generational, systemic. Some people tell me that the 1980s were like this for certain families, regions, populations. I didn’t know. We were doing okay. Perhaps I didn’t get it, didn’t notice it, didn’t want to think about it.

Ten years on, Mark Duggan’s family filed a civil claim against the Metropolitan Police and were awarded an undisclosed sum, after his death was officially ruled a lawful killing in 2014. Lawyers for the Duggan claim commissioned this in-depth report on the shooting, which illustrated many problems with the official police version of events.

Ten years on, the UK government is trying to curtain the right to protest. It commissioned a review that concluded that the country has no systemic racism. It wants to limit the powers of the Electoral Commission and has considered conflating the concepts of whistleblowing and leaking with spying, meaning those who leak information could be treated as criminals. It is increasingly intent on punishing those who might express dissatisfaction.

And ten years on, as we all know, wages have not risen to match the rising costs of rent, food, utilities or transport. It sure costs a lot just to live.

Finally, in 2018, the UN Special Rapporteur on Poverty and Human Rights visited the United Kingdom and did speak with many of its poor. The resulting exhaustive and damning report concluded that “statistics alone cannot capture the full picture of poverty in the United Kingdom” and that “much of the glue that has held British society together since the Second World War has been deliberately removed and replaced with a harsh and uncaring ethos.” It described harsh, ill-conceived and out-of-touch support systems devised and doubled down on by a government that not only failed to understand poverty, but that couldn’t even measure it accurately. It also predicted that these things would only get worse, and without any consideration of the effect of extraordinary events, such as a global pandemic.

The government described the report as “barely believable.”

I don’t think any help is coming.

---

There’s a question that sometimes bounces around social media and it asks people this: “What radicalised you?” As if there was some moment that changed a person’s political beliefs and rearranged their perspective on the world.

Here’s the thing. I feel like my perspective is from the floor, skewed and sore after I fell between two stools, always unable to find an identity amongst wider British culture. I grew up too comfortable, too spoiled and too well-spoken to call myself working class, but I was easily alienated by schoolfriends with multiple bathrooms and university-educated parents. My interests and my sentiments aren’t supposed to be working class, but many of my life experiences and even philosophies are. I know what it’s like to memorise Shakespeare and to explain themes in Romantic-era art, as much as I know what it’s like to fight government systems that are ostensibly supposed to help, to be unable to afford your own home, to walk into a supermarket and look at staple foods you still can’t afford. You think about Descartes and then you think about which dinner provides the cheapest way to keep your body alive.

When I was a kid I remember going to friend’s houses where they were too poor to clean the carpet, or seeing them lose a parent to lung cancer, or the time someone showed me a gun hidden in their brother’s car. As an adult I wrote to my politicians to ask them what they were doing about poverty, about education, about the cost of living. I went to protests and signed petitions and supported charities both practically and financially. I suppose I was trying to articulate some of the skills I’d learned from in some situations to articulate the experiences I’d had in others. Surely you have to do something.

I both resent and appreciate aspects of both classes and I imagine I’ll never work out who I am or what I’m supposed to call myself. But I do know there are vastly different worlds and vastly different experiences within British culture and that many continue to be overlooked even when in plain sight. And it’s what I find most frustrating.

If there was one thing I learned, if not one thing that radicalised me, it wasn’t simply that poverty never goes away, it’s that it always needs to be explained. There are always, always people who don’t get it, who don’t notice it, who don’t want to think about it or who will puzzle over it from a distance as if it were some transient mirage they can never hope to touch. Those in power will continue to make decisions about poverty that they do not experience, in spite of the fact that making financially comfortable people the authority on money is like making able-bodied people the authority on wheelchair access, like making men the authority on women’s bodies, like making white people the authority on racism.

And so, ten years on, here I am again, writing about Tottenham, about class, about poverty and about ignorance, and only from a slightly different angle. I will write about these things more, not least because I’ve already started another work on these themes, but mostly because I will always need to. I don’t imagine that, during my lifetime, the explaining will ever stop. I don’t imagine that our societies will give up on punishing people for being poor in a world where it is so often simply too expensive to be alive. And I don’t imagine I will have any more patience for people who imagine it will all blow over.

I refuse to let you middle-class your way out of this.

I don’t have any solutions to these enormous and complex problems. I don’t have exhaustive lists of who exactly to blame or where precisely everything has gone wrong. But here’s what I believe: If we don’t talk about poverty, and if we don’t listen to those caught inside of it, it will never go away, and there will be infinitely more Tottenhams.

#Tottenham #Tottenham riots #Mark Duggan #poverty #London #England #writing #2011

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ana-benn · 4 years ago

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Inspired by this interview:

If Only You Knew

Jamie Benn friends to lovers story featuring: angst, fluff, and a whole lot of miscommunication.

When you'd first accepted a job as the Stars PR assistant you figured you'd stay a few months, boost your resume, and move on. Quickly though you found yourself falling in love with the guys, and the job. It was fun to just be able to interact with them on a human level, and the fact that you knew the sport helped. They trusted you, so when your boss couldn't handle something you were called in. Especially if it was something pitiful. A guy wanted to do dinner and talk about getting his face out there more, or dealing with a girlfriend fall out. It usually fell on you.

The best part about the job was the friends you'd made, and for the first time in your life you had a beat friend. You and Jamie had instantly bonded, both being the ones who preferred sitting off by yourselves during events and parties. Of course the addition of Boston's resident playboy had originally put a damper on things, but they'd found a balance. Each bringing out the best in the other. It was endearing really, and you found yourself enjoying a different side of your best friend.

Gone was the shy behavior replaced by a new confidence and a desire to just be as good as he could. You found this new side of Jamie more and more attractive. At the same time it seemed all of a sudden the guy who'd schedule meetings when Tom, your boss, was busy so you'd have a built in excuse to have a mid-week hang out day was gone and all of a sudden he started dating like crazy. You'd spent so long taking for granted that Jamie was just as much of a workoholic as you, it was a shock to the system when he started bailing on your biweekly movies and junk food sessions. He wasn't able to eat crap that often, and you tried to eat right typically so it was a fun night, and one you both looked forward to.

Now here you stood in his dining room for the first time in months, after a decent but ultimately disappointing season, setting out a spread. Wings, pizza, beer, every kind of chip Jamie had in his pantry, with ice cream in the freezer for later. Your own growing interest in him romantically was under control at the idea of just spending quality time with your best friend.

"Hey!" Jamie greeted walking downstairs. "That smells amazing, but I've got to bail tonight. Jordie is on his way with crappy movies though so you and him can definitely hang out."

"Oh," was all you could think to say, trying to hide the disappointment on your face. "That's okay I'll just head home then."

"Come on, don't be like that. Jordie loves your company," Jamie tried.

"I like his too, but I kinda thought it would be nice to spend time with you," you tried to cover. "Don't worry about it. Another time."

"Come on, just hang out with Jordie. It's not like you have other plans," Jamie said walking to the living room.

You followed him, anger bubbling up, "I'm sorry?"

"Look you're here, right? So you didn't make plans, so hang out with Jordie, so you aren't alone," Jamie shrugged.

"I didn't make plans, because I thought you were making time for me for once." You muttered.

"What was that?" Jamie asked, you could sense his frustration mounting too.

"Jamie," you started, pausing to control your anger. "If you don't want to spend time with me that's fine. But don't pretend okay? I'm a big girl. I can find someone else to spend time with, you don't need to pawn me off on your brother."

"I'm not pawning you off," Jamie tried to placate you. "I just forgot Segs set up a double date, and I promised I'd come."

"Jamie, you don't have to do this," you sighed rubbing your fingers over your face.

"Obviously I do," he retorted.

"Jamie, just be honest!" You said exasperated.

"Honest about what, exactly?"

"You make time for the things you care about," you felt the break in your voice. "Don't pretend to care about me if you can't be damned to show it."

"Can we try irrational for $1000," Jamie snarked.

"I just can't do this anymore!" You yelled, furious. His mocking was the end of your rope.

"Really?" Jamie shouted back, sarcastically, "I thought you were being a bitch for no reason."

"You know what Jamie," you fumed. "Fuck you. I'm leaving." You went to grab your purse off the dining room table, where dinner sat getting cold.

"Fine," came his cold reply. "Lose my fucking number while you're at it."

"Bye Jamie," you said shutting his front door behind you.

You felt yourself fighting tears wondering how it came to this. Two hours ago you were excited, looking forward to a nice relaxing evening. Now it seemed everything was falling apart.

You made it into your car, and halfway to your apartment before the tears fell. You sucked it up long enough to get home, and before you'd even made it to you room your heart shattered. You laid in the hallway for an undeterminable amount of time, before the tears stopped. Your eyes hurt from crying so hard, and it felt like your heart had been removed from your body. You felt like you should call someone, anyone really, but the only voice you wanted to hear was the one who left you this sobbing waif.

It wasn't fair to expect Jamie to act any different really. You were the idiot who caught feelings, not him. He was free to date or spend his time however he wanted to. You just wanted the courtesy of him saying it, instead you lashed out and watched the friendship you'd built crumble.

That caused a new round of sobs as you thought you heard something in your hallway. You wrote it off as you focused on trying to calm your breathing. As you finally started to feel calm you heard a distinctive thump against your door. You slowly got up, wiping your face as best you could, thinking that there was a chance your elderly, Mr. Barnes, had fallen. You looked out your peephole and saw nothing. So you opened the door and before you could react you had a very drunk 6'2, 207 pound hockey player at your feet.

"It's you!" He exclaimed.

"Jamie?" You questioned. He nodded excitedly, "What are you doing here."

"I was drunk," he explained.

"I know that," you replied. "Why are you at my apartment instead of your house?"

"You've been crying," he announced finally getting up. You closed the door as he wandered to your couch, throwing himself on it. You hated how at home he looked here.

"Jamie, it's late I don't want to fight anymore. I'm going to get you a blanket," you said walking to your linen closet.

When you returned he looked at you with sad eyes, "I never want to fight with you."

"Jamie, I'm sorry about what I said okay. My feelings were hurt," you tried to soothe. He wasn't in a place to have a real conversation, but you knew he wouldn't sleep without something.

"You hurt mine first," he mumbled. His voice sounding much more sober suddenly.

"What?"

"You went out with Ben what's-his-face. I wanted to punch his face, but noooo. Tyler said I had to just let you realize we were perfect together, but you never did," he sounded so sad and broken.

"Jamie," you sighed out. But before you could say anything he was asleep.

You eventually made your own way to bed, determined to talk to Jamie tomorrow.

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

The next morning you greeted Jamie with a bottle of water and Tylenol, "Here." You felt suddenly very shy with him, not knowing how today would go.

"Thanks," he mumbled downing all of it in one go. "How'd I get here?"

"I was hoping you knew."

"All I know is we fought, I went to my stupid dinner and I think I drank the place," he said rubbing his head. "Oh God, what did I say to you?" He suddenly jerked his head up.

"A lot actually. Apparently I hurt your feelings?" You said, not wanting to have this conversation, and also desperately wanting to have it.

"Look, I had feelings for you, but your my best friend. I shouldn't lash out like that, I'm sorry," Jamie apologized.

"What if I have feelings for you?" You asked, shyly meeting his brown eyes.

"Then, we have a new conversation to have," he said gulping slightly.

"I don't think so," you said, sliding your leg over his seating yourself on his leg. His hands immediately wrapping around your waist. "I think it's best if we just start right here." You kissed him softly.

"Now," you said, getting off him and taking his hand. "Neither of us got any sleep, so come with me." You pulled him back to your bed room onto your bed. As you both got situated his arms wrapped around you and your head rested on his shoulder. "We can't figure everything else out after we sleep," you whispered as you felt his lips against your head.

@captainbenn sorry it took so long. I already started a part two!

#jamie benn #oh captain my captain #dallas stars #hockey #dallas hockey #dallas sports #nhl #stars dallas #jamie benn fanfic #jamie benn x reader x tyler seguin

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wkemeup · 5 years ago

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Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life, Too)

summary: Bucky waits at the end of the aisle for the love of his life (heavily inspired by that scene in Crazy Rich Asians) pairing: bucky x reader warnings: a ridiculous amount of fluff a/n: This was written for @mermaidxatxheart‘s 500 follower challenge! I had the song prompt of Falling in Love with You by Elvis Presley, though I was really drawing off the cover by Kina Grannis in the link in the summary. Congrats on 500(+) Jamie!! 🌸

Bucky’s hands were stuffed into his pockets, pulling at the seams of expensive threads as if the unraveling string could release a piece of tension in his chest, let him breathe a little easier, let his head feel a little less numb. Leather wingtips of his shoes were tight around his toes, the tie draped around his neck a little too snug, sweat beading at his temples. His breaths were heavy in his chest, thick like anvils on his lungs as he swayed from one foot to the other.

It smelled faintly of lavender and incense as he managed to take in a shallow breath; memories of Sunday mornings with his Ma and sister traveling into the city adorned in baggy suits and frilly dresses, a pout on his face through his teenage years. Stained glass windows to his left, marble statues to his right; colorful light filtered through the room and touched against the faces of stone, sun kissed, heaven sent.

His hands gripped to fists in his pockets and Bucky gazed out to the rows of old, wooden pews. It was filling up quickly with women dressed in beautiful gowns and men in black ties, talking quietly amongst themselves, stealing looks to the back of the room and then up to Bucky. Nervous excitement, joyful smiles he wasn’t used to be on the receiving end of.

“You alright there, man?” Steve asked to his left, nudging his shoulder teasingly. Bucky nodded quickly, maybe a little too quickly, because Steve started to chuckle under his breath. “There’s still time to run for it if you want? I can get the car started.”

“Not a chance,” Bucky replied without hesitation, his voice rough and raw like stone, unused all morning. He nodded to himself, pulling in a deep breath as he stared down at the double doors at the end of the aisle. “I’m marrying the love of my life today.”

“Yes, you are,” Steve nodded, smiling to himself as Bucky kept his gaze focused on the wooden doors. He patted Bucky gently on the shoulder. “Take in all in, buddy. You deserve it. After everything you’ve been through, to come out of all of it and find this? Love and happiness and all those things you never thought you’d see again? Who would’ve thought, huh?”

Certainly not Bucky.

But Steve nudged Bucky’s side because he believed from the very start, from the moment he’d introduced the two of you the day you moved into the tower nearly a year prior and he saw the slight part of Buckt’s lips, the rendered shock on his face as he stood frozen, staring at you as you extended your hand to him. Something had changed in him that day, like a spark igniting a flame, a drop to a desert, the cry in a first breath.

Your hand slipped into his, a shy smile on your face as you met his eye, and Bucky didn’t know what to say. His voice was sandpaper in his throat and Steve was the one who told you his name, though Bucky was almost certain you already knew. Your eyes only flashed to the reflective panels of his left arm once upon walking up to him and even then, it had been in admiration, never fear, never disgust.

Your name was honey on his tongue and he repeated it a few times after you left, as he held his hand close to his chest where you’d touched him, like velvet and silk, and he wondered how something so tender and kind could stand to touch the flesh of a monster.

You turned over your shoulder as Steve guided you around the floor, introducing you to the team, and your eyes kept returning to Bucky from the distance, even as you met Sam and Wanda, then Tony and Natasha.

He’d met your eye from across the room and for the first time in years, he felt the corner of his lips push to his cheeks; aching in their disuse, a little worn for wear, but it made you smile even wider, crinkling up by your eyes, chewing on the edge of your lip. It warmed like the heat of a gentle fire to his chest, a relief sweeping through the tension he carried. It was your smile that started to pull him from the darkest parts of himself.

He wasn’t quite sure how it happened, how you managed to start peeling away at the wall he kept built carefully around himself, fortified under brick and stone and standing so tall he no longer could see sunlight around him.

Brick by brick, they started to disappear with the smell of coffee filtering through the kitchen as the sun rose and he’d stumble out of his room after a night of restless sleep to find you waiting at the table with two cups of freshly brewed coffee, tapping your fingers against the wood anxiously, a bounce of your knee underneath. So sweetly nervous until the moment you saw him and everything in your body seemed to relax.

He lost a brick from the walls around him as he sat down beside you each morning, first under comfortable silence, until enough mornings passed and soon, the kitchen was filled with laughter before the sky had filtered to an even blue.

The bricks disappeared every time you laughed, every time you smiled at him from across the room when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, every time a flush would touch your skin as he’d catch you staring and you’d look away bashfully, only to return home to ocean blue and he’d smile back for you.

They disappeared as your hip pressed up close to his on the couch and you fell asleep against his shoulder on movie nights, a bowl of popcorn slipping from your fingers. They crumbled with every soft snore, every time you curled against him, finding comfort in the cool embrace of his left arm as he brushed the hairs from your eyes.

Brick by brick, you managed to dig through the cement under brittle nails and calloused hands, tearing away another piece of the protective guard he’d mounted in his decades under Hydra until suddenly, steady streams of light started to peak their way into the darkness, until the touch of it warmed his skin, stung a little in his eyes, until the shadows no longer had a home around him.

The first time you’d kissed him had been an accident.

Something so innocent, so familiar as you pulled back from the warm hold of his embrace under fuzzy blankets and movie marathons, and touched the sides of his face. Lost in the way he was watching you, caught up in the dim lighting of the kitchen, the haze of sleepiness, you’d kissed him.

Short and gone in an instant once you realized what you’d done and you raced off to your room with frantic apologies under your breath. He tried to go after you, tell you how badly he wanted you to kiss him again like that, but there wasn’t time. He had a mission in the morning and you’d boarded yourself up behind the walls of your room.

By the time he returned a week later, the line bordering between friendship and something more was all but shattered as he stumbled off the quinjet with a limp on his right side, a nasty scar over his forehead and an exhaustion dragging him under after four days of no contact, no reassurance, and complete radio silence.

You had raced into his arms in tears and threw yourself to his embrace, holding onto him like he was your only lifeline. He had stumbled back a bit at the impact of it, surprised, and you didn’t give him a chance to question it before your lips were on his.

The start of it all, the tailspin into the unknown.

It all happened so quickly after that. The nervous dates with pretty red dresses and disheveled ties, the hands intertwining as you walked together for hours through Brooklyn under starlit skies, the kisses outside your bedroom, the cozy embrace on the couches.

The ‘I love you’s. The falling between sheets, bare and desperate for one another. The question that scared him more than any mission ever could. The ‘yes’ that changed his life forever.

He fell in love with you faster than he knew how to catch himself.

It was a freefall through the heart of an open abyss. It was stepping off the ledge knowing there was nothing securing you to the surface. It was a leap of faith, an instinct of trust, a determination of love. When he fell for you, there was no fear, no panic. There was only absolute certainty.

He loved you. You loved him.

There was nothing else. No amount of time that could make his love for you more real, more acceptable to what others deemed appropriate for this level of commitment. He spent too much of his life not being able to make decisions for himself, too much of his life without the autonomy to say ‘no’ or ‘yes’, his freewill stripped from him like a piece of his soul.

So, this was his choice, every day. Every morning, every night, every hour. He chose you.

“Anyone check on Y/n yet?” Sam quipped up from beside Steve, tugging at the neck of his tie. “We sure she didn’t make a run for it?”

“Sam,” Steve warned, but Bucky started to laugh, feeling the tension slip away.

“I’m just saying,” Sam shrugged with that teasing grin of his, “I’m pretty sure we were all shocked she agreed to a lifetime with this nutjob. I wouldn’t blame the girl for jumping ship.”

“She’s coming,” Bucky replied evenly, a soft smile on his face as he kept his eyes on the back doors. “She’ll be here.”

There was no doubt, not a single trace of it running through his bloodstream. The tension faded from his shoulders and he realized with a quick look in Sam’s direction, that he’d done it on purpose, reminded Bucky exactly why he was standing where he was to begin with, reminded him of the unbreakable trust he had in you.

A moment of peace, of ease, and then—

The soft strumming of a guitar began to filter through the church, high up into the arches as a hush fell over the crowd. Bucky’s stomach fell, like at the highest peak of a free fall, and he straightened his back, tried to fix his already perfectly straightened tie, hands shaking just a little. The guests all turned to the doors as wooden archways slowly parted and Bucky exhaled a shaky breath.

“You’ve got this,” Steve whispered beside him. “Best day of your life, right?”

Bucky nodded, turning to find Steve smiling at him, Sam giving him a short thumbs up with that cheeky grin of his. His brothers, his family. He exhaled again, this time more even, like a weight of release on his chest, and turned to the parted doors.

A gentle voice carried over the hushed whispers of the crowd, light and breathy, heavenly, as Peter took his first step into the church.

Wise men say only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you

Awkward smile as he tried to make eye contact with every phone in the crowd, a slight flush of pink in his cheeks as he walked a little too quickly down the aisle. He wore a tie that matched the color of the flowers pinned to Bucky’s suit jacket and he paused for a moment by Tony and Pepper’s aisle as she begged him for a picture.

Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you

Wanda stepped out into the open doors. Long, flowing brunette hair over her shoulders, braided in a crown from her face, she carried light pink roses and white dahlias in her hands. Dressed in a beautiful shade that reminded Bucky of cherry blossoms, she gave a soft glance to the crowd before she took her place beside Peter leading up to the alter.

Like a river flows surely to the sea Darling, so it goes some things are meant to be

Then, Natasha. Lethal and cunning, dressed in soft pinks and a subtle smile on plump lips, an enigma within herself. She looked up to the woman sitting on the edge of a stool at the corner of the room, the one singing the beautiful song that had Bucky’s heart stammering so fast in his chest, he wasn’t quite sure how he was still on his feet.

She began to make her way down the aisle, a subtle glance to Steve from the corner of her eye before she found her place beside Wanda, leaving him to cough back a blush rising on his cheeks.

Then, a silence came over the crowd, the music lingering up into the highest peaks of the church as Bucky held his breath. A soft echo of the guitar nestling into his chest and falling into a pristine silence, Bucky watched as the crowd stood from their pews, turning to the back door, his heart pounding like thunder, loud enough that even the furthest row could hear it.

You stepped out into the opening and everything just... stopped. Time dissolving around him, the gasps of the crowd numb to his ears, and you paused under elaborate archways, framing you like a portrait to be admired amongst masterpieces. Dressed in a gown that touched your skin, floated along your curves, your body, the way his hands had; with a carefulness, a tenderness, unlike he’d ever seen.

Then, you smiled at him; something soft, subtle, filled with every rush of emotion swimming in his own chest. Stunning. Magical. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life.

A calmness swept over him, the nervous stuttering of his heart falling back into a gentle rhythm, his breaths even and full in his lungs. This was where he was meant to be.

You took your first step into the aisle.

So take my hand

Tears welled in Bucky’s eyes, blurry as he tried to take in as much of this moment as he could. You chewed on the edge of rouge stained lips, disregarding the room full of people, of family and friends, as you kept your focus on Bucky in every step. He was the one you always ran to, his arms you sought out in a crowded room, his watchful smile to calm your nerves, and he was waiting for you. He was always there waiting for you.

Take my whole life, too

In every step, he saw the days he spent curled up on the couch beside you, the nights pressed against you under sweat damped sheets from the demons in his sleep. He saw the dates at the sub shop in Queens and the coffee joint in Brooklyn. He saw the trust he put in you, the instant devotion, the internal instinct to give every piece of himself to you. He saw the free fall.

He saw the bricks you dismantled from the walls around his heart, the way you so carefully nurtured the most vulnerable pieces of him to something stronger, something protected and adored until he believed it himself.

For I can't help falling in love with you

You were within reach now and he extended a hand to you. Your fingers slipped into his palm, warm and soft and everything that every grounded him to this earth by a tether, and he guided you up the stairs to the alter beside him.

He let out a heavy breath, smiling through the tears in his eyes as he chuckled quietly, still unable to process how quickly you’d fallen into his life, how easily you turned him upside down and brought forth the pieces of himself he’d lost over the years.

Your hand touched the side of his face, gently wiping away his tears with a smile that must have ached from how constant it was, how all-encompassing and infectious, full of unbridled joy and love. This was where he was supposed to be, where everything in his life led to – this moment – where you mouthed ‘I love you’ because you couldn’t stand to hold it back another second.

He kissed the palm of your hand, an intimate gesture shared between you witnessed by friends and family in the crowd, and he whispered, “I love you, too.”

His home. His sweet girl who reminded him who he was under years of fortified walls caging him from sunlight. His whole heart.

A new start. A new life.

For I can't help falling in love with you

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #jamies500writingchallenge

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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years ago

Text

Title: Buzz, Buzz—Buzz, Buzz {One-Shot}***

Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Tease, NSFW, SMUT

Words: 4.5k

Note: I love vibrating panties by the way. Great idea! This was too much fun to write. I hope you enjoy it!!!

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe you cooked all of this,” Scott said as he gaped at all the food scattered around your townhouse.

You had gotten a little carried away in the kitchen with all the cooking. You’d made fried coconut shrimp, some potato salad, mac and cheese, and some honey BBQ smothered ribs. That all went with various little finger foods like chili cheese nachos topped with all the fixings, little kabobs, and a fruit salad. Looking at all the food you may have gone overboard considering there was probably only going to be maybe ten people in attendance today to watch the fight.

“I know, I think I went a tab bit overboard.”

“No, it’s great. It is fight night after all,” Scott said.

You finished putting out the rest of the décor for the night and making sure your townhouse was company ready.

“You are quite the little entertainer.”

Scott helped you straighten the rest of the townhouse which you had neglected in your cooking spree. While you tackled upstairs, Scott tackled downstairs. You had to make sure the bathroom and the bedroom and even the guest bedroom was good. The one thing you hated was when you went to someone’s house and their whole house was not on point. It could have been just something small, but it got to you.

“Shit, Scott I forgot the cake.”

“I knew you would. How could you not? I didn’t think you’d be doing all of this.”

“If I go to get it I won’t have enough time to get ready before everyone gets here.”

“It’s okay, I’ll get it. Give me the receipt and I’ll go. You get ready,” Scott offered.

“Thank you, Scott.” You rummaged through your bag until you found the receipt for Scott so he could pick up the cake for fight night. Fight night was never complete with something sweet to end the night.

Once he was gone you finished tidying up and setting fresh candles out you hopped in the shower. Ten minutes later you were trying to find the right outfit but couldn’t decide what to wear. It was a fight, so you didn’t want to get too crazy, but you also didn’t want to look frumpy. You tried on dresses with wedges and heels, jeans and tanks, jumpsuits, skirts but you could not decide.

Halfway through your mind jumped to Scott’s brother, Chris. You’d been friends with Scott for about nine months before he introduced you to his brother superstar Chris brown at a party. It was of course an automatic attraction for you. who the hell wouldn’t think Chris Evans was hot? Sometimes when you hung out with Scott he was around, and it became normal after a few months. Every once in a while you’d hang out alone mainly when you were in a group. You’d break off alone and talk or even do things together. You’d come to realize he was a cool guy, really funny and down to earth. You’d gotten comfortable around each other and you couldn’t deny that you were probably developing a crush.

After nearly fifteen minutes of debate, you decided on an off the shoulder shirt and a pair of jeans that you would pair with some wedges. You thought it was a good combo. When you reached into your drawer for a pair of panties you didn’t think anything about picking the black thong you’d gotten as a naughty birthday gift from your friends. You’d lost the remote months ago so that rendered the vibrating contraption useless. While you were rushing around to make sure you were ready in time you didn’t realize the doorbell rang until you heard pounding at the door. When you opened it, Chris was standing there holding the cake Scott was sent out to get.

“Hey. I’m sorry I didn’t hear the door.”

“It’s okay. I come bearing sweets.” You smiled and held open the door so he could come in.

“You can put it in the kitchen on the counter. Thanks.” You followed behind him looking over his body. His white polo looked so good on him. It fit him just right and accentuated his broad his shoulders were and how trim his waist was. He looked so good. Catching yourself before he caught you checking him out you looked away and tried to compose yourself.

“What happened to Scott?”

“He had a few things to do before he made it over here, so he asked me to bring this over.”

“Thank you.”

“I feel like I should thank you, it smells amazing in here. I can’t wait to get my hands on all this food,” Chris said as he rubbed his hands together.

“You’re so silly.” A few moments passed with the two of you smiling at each other before you snapped out of it.

“Okay, I’m gonna finish setting up, everyone should be here any minute.”

“Okay, need help?”

“No, I got it. You chill and get the channel right. I’ll be back.” As you walked past him you thought you heard him whisper “god damn”. Deciding it was your ears playing tricks on you, you continued rushing around.

While you were rushing around doing God knows what he found the channel the fight was on and got it ready. When he fixed himself a plate and sat on the couch it was then he saw a small black device peeking out from underneath the wall mounted bookcase. He dug it out but before he could investigate further the doorbell rang. He slipped the device in his pocket and answered the door to find a group of smiling faces.

“Heyyyy!” He smiled and ushered them inside as they all spoke at once. Some were commenting on how good it smelled inside, some on the coming fight, and some just chattering. Before long everyone had settled and situated around the living room.

“How was this recent trip, Chris?”

He’d just got back into town from filming a coming show that he was excited about. “It was good. It was mainly last minute reshoots and whatnot. It should be premiering soon.”

“What’s it called?”

“Defending Jacob.”

When you walked out everyone approached you and pulled you in for hugs. You spent the next few moments hugging everyone and having small talk. He couldn’t help but watch you. When he first met you he thought you were beautiful, yeah but he didn’t dwell on it. As the weeks and months passed and he got to know you better thanks to Scott he really liked you and the vibe you gave off. The more he talked to you away from your group of friends, the more he liked.

After a few months he knew he was in real danger of finding himself in a situation that had the potential to be messy. Normally he wouldn’t have cared but he’d just gotten to a point in his life where he was through making bad decisions that made him into the asshole. If he made a move on you he would be the man he was. So he kept his distance and did everything in his power to keep himself in check.

His eyes roamed your body and he fully took notice of your outfit. The jeans fit you too well and the top accentuated your soft shoulders and ample cleavage. Just like that he knew it was going to be a long night.

When everyone got their food and seats the fight started, by that time he’d checked out your ass more than four times and found himself staring at your breasts more times than he could count. He made it a goal to focus on the fight and nothing else. He told himself it didn’t matter that you were beside him and smelled like every flower in the book or the fact that your thigh brushed his every so often. A little after the halfway mark you returned with a beer for him.

“Thanks.” Your smile was polite and sweet. He dug his hand in his pocket and remembered the small device there. He didn’t know what it was but after fiddling with it he decided it was probably a stress thing. It took him a few minutes to realize the soft rubber spots were buttons. He pressed one down. Almost at the same time, you dropped back onto the couch with an “oh”.

When he looked at you the look on your face said confusion and shock.

“Are you okay?” Your head snapped to him and you instantly nodded. The way you did it was weird, but he didn’t think anything of it. He continued to fiddle with the device in his pocket and pressed another button. You whimpered beside him and crossed your legs. When his eyes met you again you gave him a reassuring smile before looking back to the TV and the fight.

“Wow, that was a great cross,” you stuttered. He tried not to notice on your squirming beside him, crossing and uncrossing your legs but he noticed. You took your beer bottle and raised it to your lips and guzzled it until it was empty. He noticed you squeezing it so tightly the skin around your knuckles was taunt. As he tried to figure out what was going on with you he pressed another button. You released a sigh and sat up with a straight back then placed your empty beer bottle on the table before you with a shaky hand.

He watched you as you looked around the room as if you were looking for something. He was so busy watching you trying to figure out what was going on that he didn’t think anything of pressing more buttons on the device in no particular order.

“Oh Jesus Christ. No, no, no.”

“You okay Y/N?” You pinched your lips and nodded to Scott.

“Yep, all good. Cake. Does anyone want--cake?” You blew out a breath through your mouth. He watched your chest heave as if you were having trouble breathing. He pressed another button and your eyes closed before you stood. He noticed the shake in your legs when you did though and he was even more inquisitive.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you got to the kitchen you were free to panic. The remote wasn’t lost at all. It was somewhere. Either it was in one of the couch seats and someone was unaware they were controlling it and your pleasure. You’d forgotten how these things felt after trying them out that one time. You remembered very well now. Taking a few moments you cut slices of the cake and placed them on plates. After you’d cut the slices Chris’ voice took you by surprise.

“You okay?”

“Yeah I’m good. Are you good?” he looked at you as if he were suspicious of something. You’d probably acted weird as shit before.

“I’m good. Need help?”

“Uh yeah, thanks.” You and Chris each took a few plates and walked back out to hand them out to each guest. Once your hands were free you leisurely walked around the living room checking behind free cushions and spaces to see if you could find the root of your embarrassing situation.

“What’re you looking for?”

“Oh nothing important. I just thought I lost a piece of jewelry earlier. Don’t worry about it,” you lied. You tried to act as normal as possible but it was hard. You didn’t know when the next vibrating surge would come and you could also feel Chris’ eyes on you. the two things were making you more awkward and nervous than usual.

Soon everyone was on their feet cheering on their chosen fighter. The controlled chaos gave you the opportunity to look in each of the couches but you’d come up empty handed. The only other possibility was that someone had it and was controlling it without knowing just what it was. Now you looked around to each of your friends assessing them trying to figure out who the culprit was. Your eyes met Chris’ from across the room and he stole your breath. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments and you wondered if it was him but his hands were free. Everyone cheered snapping you out od the moment to see the fight was over.

The vibration began again this time it wasn’t on the low setting, it was a lot stronger.

“Fuck!” You crossed your legs, pinched your lips and tried to hold back any sounds you were tempted to make. The vibration continued then intensified and you could feel the beginning stirs of the orgasm that wanted freedom.

You didn’t think you could stop it so you walked to your balcony as smoothly as possible. You turned your back to the French doors and bit your bottom lip trying to stop the moan. It definitely wasn’t working so you grabbed the railing before you and bent over and let the orgasm free with a grunt. Your body was on fire and you already knew it wanted more. The vibration stopped unexpectedly giving you a much needed break. The wetness between your thighs was now distracting.

After taking a little time to get yourself under control you walked back inside the living room and to the couch and sat beside Chris with a sigh.

“You’ve been acting weird all night. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a hot night.” It wasn’t a lie, you were burning up at this point.

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t sound like he believed you, shit you didn’t believe yourself. Your eye caught the shine of something black Chris was holding, and all the blood drained from you as horror filled you. He was holding the remote you thought you’d lost. It dawned on you at once that he’d had it this entire time and he’d been playing with the buttons inadvertently bringing you to a pretty intense orgasm.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself as you tried to act normal.

Nothing about this was normal. You had to figure out a way to nonchalantly get it back without tipping him off to what it really was. Before you could come up with something the vibrations began again against your already over sensitive clit sending your back crashing back into the couch. The setting was set low, but it was still more than enough to start the stirs of yet another release. Fighting through it you sat up tried not to squirm. When the setting increased you failed miserably. Your hand shot out to grab and squeeze Chris’ thigh. When you looked at him the second your eyes met you knew he knew. Slowly he looked to the black device in his hand and back to you and then his eyebrow arched up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

No fucking way, he thought. There was no way this was real life. He couldn’t believe events would turn like this. Quickly you yanked your hand back and apologized before looking the opposite direction. He almost laughed out loud. This was too perfect. What he thought was just a useless stress reliever turned out to be a lot more valuable. It was the remote to what he’d now pieced together as your panties.

The thought of you wearing some sexy contraption that he had control over instantly made him hard. He could have turned it off but he chose not to as he realized your antics on the balcony was probably you being overcome with pleasure. It was then he realized he’d made you come. The old him wanted to resurface so badly so he kept the setting where it was and watched you squirm. God, it was sexy as hell doing this knowing everyone around you was clueless. He watched closely he wanted to see you come this time knowing that he knew just what he was doing. You didn’t utter one word or give one thing away. The only thing he noticed was your body heaving clearly exerted.

With a smile, he turned off the device and tucked it back into his pocket. He’d give you a break. The rest of the night he tried to forget the power he had, forget the tightness in his pants and ignore how badly he wanted you. After the fight finished everyone stayed for a few hours longer just laughing, dancing and having a good time. You stayed away from him the entire time. If he was close to you, you found a reason to go to the opposite side of the room. It amused him; he’d gotten under your skin. It had him thinking back to every glance you’d shared over the months. Did they mean something more?

Slowly everyone made their exit leaving Scott his partner and him there to help you clean up. You tried to shoo them out but they each insisted on helping to show appreciation for the hospitality you’d shown. He could tell you hated every minute of it and that made him even more amused. Your cool composure was crumbling and he could see the angst in you bubbling to the surface to reveal just how much he’d affected you.

By the time you showed them to the door, he still had your remote and he knew you knew it.

“Y/N, this was so much fun. Thank you for hosting it,” Scott said giving you one last hug.

“No problem, it was fun.”

“Yeah I had a lot of fun,” he added. You didn’t look at him, but you pinched your lips.

“All right y’all get home safe.” He walked out the door and down the hall with Scott and his partner with a small satisfied smile on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five minutes from when you closed the door the doorbell rang. When you opened the door there Chris stood holding the remote between his thumb and pointer fingers. Neither of you spoke, you just stared at each other. Who needed words with everything that had transpired between you? here was a man you’d never slept with but had made you come two times.

As you reached for the remote Chris yanked his hand back. You continued trying to grab the remote but every move you made he evaded. Soon he was stepping inside.

“Chris, give it to me.”

“Why do you want it?”

“It’s mine.”

“It’s been mine tonight.” You caught his double meaning and you rushed him in a mad dash attempt to grab the remote from him. Chris evaded you and the two of you danced around the living room, you trying to get what belonged to you and him determined to hold on to it. Chris stumbled backward and fell on the floor and took you with him. The remote fell from his hand to a few feet away. When you realized it you were laying on top of him. Your eyes locked and you realized just how your body was angled on him. You were sitting right over his crotch and you definitely took notice of the thick ridged muscle pressing into you.

You caught the glint of the remote off to the side a few feet away and slowly looked to him. He must have realized what you saw and the two of you scurried to it. Thanks to his long arms he was the one to grab it. As soon as he did you felt the most intense vibrations, he’d turned it to the highest setting.

“Fuck!” You shouted out and writhed on him. You bucked your hips against him and picked up the speed dry humping him and rushing to find a release. Your body shook and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh—my—god!” You screeched as your body convulsed.

It felt like you were having the wildest seizure, a seizure that took any control you had of your body. All you wanted was to come and thanks to the vibrations you got your wish. You threw yourself across his chest trying to catch your breath, but it was impossible. Whimpering you writhed some more from the unbearable pleasure. It was too much. Slowly the settings decreased until the vibrations stopped.

You didn’t know how long you laid there on him but when you lifted your head it felt heavy as if it weighed a ton. Your hands still shook as you pressed them to his chest. When your eyes met the fire, you saw there was something that you were not prepared for.

“Oh god.” Chris’ eyes dropped to your lips and in seconds your lips crashed together. This kiss was the most intense one you’d ever had. Chris’ tongue delved into your mouth and entangled with yours just as his hand gripped your ass pulling you closer to him and holding you against his hard cock. Both of you moaned together already knowing what you were going to do. There was no way you could stop now. He’d teased you all night and now you wanted something more.

Chris’ hands came around to the button of your jeans and quickly undid them before he slipped his hands inside the backs to cup your bare ass. You bucked your hips against him brushing your core on his swollen need. The entire time neither of you broke the kiss, instead, it intensified and became even more passionate. Chris’ hands lifted the hem of your shirt and yours were there to pull it off completely. As soon as it was off Chris’ hands were there to unhook your strapless bra to free your breasts. It was only then his lips pulled from yours to latch onto a hardened nipple.

He greedily went between both nipples sucking, licking and biting them bringing you even more pleasure. You pulled his shirt off of him and clawed his back enjoying the smoothness of his skin. He pulled you down again on his need and the urgency you felt increased. You stood above him and began pulling off your jeans. As you did he busied himself with his own pants. Once you’d kicked them off you moved to pull down the panties, but he stopped you by pulling you to him. Your feet were beside his face just as he pulled you down onto his face connecting his lips with your soaking slit.

“Oh shit!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head again, he was not going slow and you were glad for it. Now was not the time. Chris licked and sucked your clit as he slurped you’re your opening sucking all your juices from you. It didn’t take you long to begin bucking against his lips and using them to find your next orgasm. Chris moaned the faster your rode his face and played with your nipples. When you looked down to him the intimacy of the moment pushed you over the edge so much that you lost yourself and smeared your pussy across his mouth and nose.

Before he made you come again you slinked down his body to his bulging cock and pulled it free. Your first reaction was to lick your lips as the feast before you. wasting not even a second you took him into your mouth. He was bigger than you expected, but you were not going to back down. Slurping against his skin you bobbed your head up and down his shaft a few times before bringing your hands to increase his pleasure.

“Fuck yeah!” taking a quick glance at him you found his head angled back with his eyes closed and mouth ajar. The lower you dipped the wider his mouth became until he scrunched his face and bit his bottom lip and watched everything you did.

“Yes, suck this cock. Fuck those lips!” The quicker you bobbed the more your slurped until you didn’t care how sloppy things were getting. Sloppy head was the best head after all.

Chris grunted loudly before pulling your head off of him.

“I don’t have anything,” he said.

“I do.” You reached into the drawer of the coffee table beside you and pulled out a condom. Once you opened it you slid it onto his rock solid cock. Every time you touched him he hissed and sucked in a breath. Once he was fully sheathed he pulled you to him and kissed you again. feeling the tip of him at your opening you slowly slid onto him. Both of you groaned and savored the sensations flowing through you. before you sank down fully Chris pulled your shoulders down fully sinking into your heated core.

“Holy shit!”

From the beginning, Chris pumped up into you with purpose, it was the same purpose he’d had all night—to make you come. You moaned and panted trying to catch your breath and take all he gave. He filled you so perfectly and to absolute capacity.

“Mmm, Y/N, I always knew you’d take this dick so well.”

Chris flipped you onto your back and held your thighs open and plowed into you never slowing his thrusts. Every connection had you shouting out unable to hold back how much pleasure he was giving you.

“Your tight little pussy loves this dick. Look how wet you are.”

Chris changed his angle and slammed into you quicker them before. the new angle had you clenching round him as you felt yet another release wash over you. you gripped him tightly and fug your nails into his shoulder trying to not pass out. Chris looked as if that was the last straw for him because his thrusts became wild and deep. The only sound in the room was the sound of your wetness squelching and your combined moans. You were so wet for him it should have been embarrassing but you weren’t embarrassed at all.

“God your gonna make me come,” Chris grunted.

“Come on this pussy right now, tag me up!” You had no idea where that came from. As if on queue Chris pulled out, yanked the condom off and stroked his length at the same time he pressed the button on the remote giving you another intense jolt.

“Oh fuck, yes, yes. Shit, I’m gonna come.”

“Come with me,” Chris’ voice was strangled, and his hands moved impossibly fast. Soon he grunted and gasped as he released spurt after spurt of hot come across your pussy, pelvis, and stomach. The third made it all the way to your breast across your nipple and that was when you came again. You arched up onto your legs as if you were a bridge as you rode through the intense pleasure. Chris was the one to turn off the device as he dropped onto his knees to catch his breath. His eyes never left your newly decorated body. You saw the string of come across your nipple and you lifted your breast to your mouth to lick off the trial all the while staring at him. Chris’ jaw dropped as he watched, and as he watched his cock grew again.

“Mmmm, tastes just like cake.” Chris looked in utter shock and disbelief before he snorted and dropped back onto the floor.

“Oh god, you’re gonna be the death of me!”

#chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #chris evans smut #black fanfiction #buzz buzz one shot

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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years ago

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Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 17 - With Him

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, how will it go in the end?, 4.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

One finger tapped on the strap of his fanny pack as Alex listened for the right bus stop to be called. If all those months since he’d seen Willie had been long, this past week had been longer. Especially since the news about Caleb had hit hard and every minute in the studio now felt like the band was precariously teetering on the edge of a cliff. He was going to try not to let any of that get in his way today, though. He’d made it to Saturday and Willie was only a few streets away, and he didn’t care what happened for the rest of the day - it was going to be good.

Finally he heard the next stop announced for where he needed to get off and he pulled the cord that told the driver to make a stop. Stepping onto the sidewalk, his heart bounced around in its chamber like the Tazmanian devil from Looney Tunes. He was glad that Willie lived in the basement of the apartment building he occupied because it would’ve been the worst if Alex forgot which room he was in and spent hours frantically knocking doors.

It was hard to tell if he was moving quickly or if his mind was just racing, but in either case, he eventually found himself at the door. For a second, he simply took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, trying to get a visual of Willie immediately pouncing on him the moment the door opened out of his head. It wouldn’t exactly be unwelcome, but Alex was realizing how desperate he was to be with him and was amazed at how it affected his imagination.

Lifting a hand, he made sure he knocked loudly. Soon after, the door opened, and Alex was greeted with shining brown eyes, silky, gorgeous brown hair styled into two braids, and a smile he could make home in. Willie.

“Hey, come on in!” Willie was saying, standing to the side and gesturing for him to enter. Crossing the threshold, Alex gazed at the humble space, taking in the details with heightened interest. “This is mi casa!” He began showing Alex around. “We’ve got the main living space, very cozy. The kitchen to your left, but no dining room so it’s all criss-cross applesauce on the floor - makes it extra chill. Bathroom through the back. The sink and shower handles will sometimes shock you, so don’t mind all the electrical tape.”

It was surprisingly accommodating for a dingy basement, and Willie had already made little additions that spoke volumes about him without words. A king size mattress sat in the corner of the ‘main living space’ on the floor with a small bookshelf beside it. The bookshelf only had a handful of cassette tapes and a Walkman lying on top, with a few sketchbooks on the middle shelf. Next to that, the dresser had a small collection of vintage soda bottles and a camera sitting on its surface. Glow-in-the-dark star stickers covered the ceiling above the bed. Even a couple cat toys could be spotted on the floor. Immediately, Alex approached the area where Willie’s desk sat surrounded by sketches hung on the wall.

“So these are your drawings?” he asked, although the answer was obvious. They were so good. Willie followed him over, the squinty smile still in his eyes.

“Yeah. Some are new. Most of them are attempts to recover what Caleb tore up.”

Alex looked at Willie apologetically, even though the loss of Willie’s previous work wasn’t his fault. Without warning, a pressure on his leg and the sound of loud purring announced Sheldon’s presence. The cat looked up at him and blinked slowly, already begging for attention. Heart melting, Alex bent down to pet him.

“Hey, Sheldon,” he said. “I forgot how cute you were!” He smiled as Sheldon rubbed his head against his hand with more affection that he’d likely seen from any other creature on the planet. Well...maybe there was one other that matched it. Alex had heard about how pets could take on the temperament of their owners, and suspected this was a clear example. “He’s gotten so big since I last saw him.”

“Yeah, he’s supposed to be almost two years old, if Escobar guessed his age right.”

Standing again as Sheldon pattered off, Alex returned his attention to the wall of art, looking at the pieces more closely.

“So which one is your dad?” he mused.

Willie untacked one of them and held it out for Alex to examine. “This one.”

Holding the edges carefully, Alex gazed in amazement at the detail Willie had caught. The edges were certainly less defined, but the scene inside the truck was so easy to visualize that Alex could almost feel the leather of the seats and the windchill from the window. He wasn’t sure what began burning in his chest as he peered down at the image, but it was profound and complex.

“I’ve thought about seeing if I could find him, but I think with my memory it’s kind of impossible,” Willie told him.

“He looks so happy here. I don’t get why you would end up as a foster kid.”

“Yeah, I wondered that too. Maybe he didn’t have a choice?”

Alex looked at Willie’s face, and he could tell half of him was lost in a world of what-ifs and other questions. He was always trying to seem so easy-going, and to an extent he truly was, but he couldn’t hide the constant sense of upheaval that rested on his shoulders. At least, Alex was picking up on it more, now that he knew the things he did. He may have been biased, but he couldn’t imagine anyone not fighting their hardest to keep Willie.

Suddenly his gaze was drawn to the unfinished work on the desk, and recognized it as a portrait of himself.

“Wow.” The word fell out of his mouth.

“Oh,” Willie started with a hint of shyness. “Obviously that one isn’t done, so…” He reached to put it away.

“You got that far off of memory, though,” Alex said. “I’m impressed. And you make me look good.” He offered an encouraging smile. “Maybe some time today I could be a model for you?”

Willie cocked his eyebrow, surprise and playfulness making an adorable combination on his face. It made Alex’s smile grow wider.

“Well, we’ve got a whole day ahead,” Willie said. “Your wish is my command.”

“Okay,” Alex said, leaning onto his back foot casually, one side of his lip curling with intrigue. “Well, I wanna see where you go around here. You seem to have a knack for finding the best spots. We can play it by ear.”

“What’s that one song with the one phrase?” Willie asked. “‘Any way the wind blows?’” He sang shyly, clearly playing down what Alex could tell was a nice voice.

“Bohemian Rhapsody,” Alex smiled. Willie’s job at the record store was at least giving him a good taste in music. “Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about the classics once you hang out with me enough.”

An emotion flashed in Willie’s eyes and after a moment Alex realized what those words were actually saying. He held his gaze, hoping he could communicate his intentions clearly, unlike the last time they’d seen each other. Willie swallowed, and his expression remained excited as he loaded his backpack and led them out the door, board in hand. Alex followed him, deciding not to question which direction they were going.

First, they made a stop to buy a bunch of apples. In classic Willie fashion, he went to a bodega, and this time he communicated with the cashier in rough Spanish. Alex knew he was showing off, and smirked at the notion that Willie enjoyed impressing him.

“So what do we need these for?” Alex wondered as they left the bodega. “Besides a ton of apples for lunch.”

Willie’s secretive smile made Alex raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a surprise.”

A little while later, they stood before the most unlikely place in all of Los Angeles: a horse barn. Staring at the building as if it loomed fifty feet above him, hands in his pockets, Alex gulped and a lump of dread landed in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh no,” he muttered apprehensively.

“Oh yeah,” Willie said, turning to him with a thrilled grin on his face.

Alex wasn’t exactly afraid of horses...he just had no idea what to do around them and therefore was not sure what to expect from them. Also, he would’ve worn different pants if he’d known this was on the agenda.

“I promise, they’ve got some really chill horses,” Willie tried to ease his nerves. “I’ve gone on this trail enough times. Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about riding once you hang out with me enough.” He winked as he threw back Alex’s line with a sly smile.

Unable to argue, Alex shook his head and used the hand in his pocket to gesture forward, signaling to Willie he was up to the challenge. He watched him practically skip inside and he had to jog to keep up after him. They signed in and then were led to two stalls.

Willie immediately gravitated toward a tall golden-colored mustang stallion with a dark mane, apparently both already familiar and happy to see each other. Alex watched him gently greet and essentially coo at it while comfortably stroking its nose and then feeding it an apple. He longed to have that sort of talent with other creatures, and simultaneously realized that he yearned to receive that same tenderness.

Once the horses were tacked up and one of the instructors had given Alex some brief pointers on how to ride, he found himself following Willie on a trail while mounted on a painted mare. The only philosophy he could adopt out here was to be gentle and not get lost.

“Not so bad, your majesty,” Willie called over to him.

An extremely nervous laugh elicited from Alex’s throat involuntarily, only making Willie laugh in return. Alex rode a little closer so they were nearly side by side on the trail.

“I’ve been here once,” he said. “I think I was about twelve? My mom thought that it would make me change my mind about taking ballet classes. We rode for maybe fifteen minutes before I got so nervous we had to turn back around and go home. Never made it through the full trail.”

“Man, that sucks,” Willie commented. “I didn’t know you did ballet.”

“Yeah, that and a few other types of dance. I was forced to quit a little couple years ago. That’s about when we got serious as a band, so I just found something else to bother my parents with.”

He could see the gears click into place as Willie came to a few conclusions about his parents and gave an emphatic nod.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to learn how to dance. That was the one thing Caleb had promised to teach me. He’s the worst, but he definitely knows how to dance.”

Suddenly, Alex remembered watching Caleb’s movements when he’d served him and the boys at the diner. Of course he could dance; everything had been fluid and smooth. All he could say to that thought was “huh,” at first. Then after a few moments: “I’ll have to teach you one of these days then.”

Willie’s eyes crinkled at the corners, happy at the prospect.

“Yeah, okay! Add that to our to-do list.”

Alex chuckled. They had a to-do list now. He bit his lip as he continued following Willie along the trail. It was a gorgeous day and in this area the sky was so clear compared to further inside the city. Greatly contrasting his experience from years ago, Alex felt himself become much more at ease and felt confident enough to take greater control of his horse. Willie pulled out his camera and snapped a few scenic photos every once in a while.

Eventually, they stopped at an outlook and Alex had to take in an awed breath. The view was clear for miles all around them. Green hills spanned the landscape in every direction with patches of city speckled in between. Even the ocean line was visible from there. How did Willie know how to find these?

“Hey, Alex!” Willie called, lifting his camera. “Say cheese!”

Turning to face him, Alex flashed a genuine smile as Willie captured him atop his horse against the scenery. He was usually pretty camera shy, but this time he really didn’t mind. Keeping memories like this actually felt important to him, unlike the many times he’d been forced to pose with his family at functions he’d also been made to attend. Those occasions had always felt so insincere - less about enjoying the memory and more about trying to prove their status as the polished, functional family everyone aspired to.

He saw Willie dismount for a moment and stretch his legs. Gripping the reins and looking around in uncertainty, Alex realized he’d gotten on before ensuring he could properly get off. Thankfully, Willie noticed and came up to him, hands raised.

“Okay, so just...carefully lift your foot out of the stirrup and swing your leg over toward me,” he instructed. Sucking in a breath hesitantly, Alex did as he said. “Alright, then...here.” Willie offered a hand for Alex to grab so he could slide off with ease. Landing on the ground, he leaned into Willie to gain his balance, and felt a congratulatory pat on his back. It took more restraint than Alex anticipated to not simply wrap his arms around him and sit like that for an indefinite amount of time. They had all day ahead of them; he didn’t need the sudden fear of losing him to derail things out of nowhere.

“Sorry if I look like a wimp about all this,” he said, letting go of his hand.

“Nah, don’t sweat it,” Willie assured him, shaking his head. “This is...this is new.”

His eyes seemed to take Alex in from head to toe and Alex could’ve sworn the charge in the air between them would buzz if they got closer, spark if they made contact. It was almost like that moment in front of Willie’s door the week before. For a few seconds they remained locked in that trance before Willie took hold of the horse’s reins and handed them to Alex.

“Technically this trail could take hours, but I’m guessing this isn’t all you’re interested in today,” he said. “What do you say we stretch our legs a bit and then ride back?”

Looking from the reins in his hand back to Willie, Alex nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Opening his backpack, Willie handed him an apple and then bit down into one of his own. Taking a bite, it was one of the most refreshing apples Alex ever eaten. They walked the horses a little ways and tried to get good pictures of the different views around them. Alex asked to try his hand with the camera and get a few good shots of Willie. He didn’t consider himself a photographer, but he doubted when the photos got developed that they would turn out badly. The way Willie smiled made him seem like he was made of sunlight from the inside out.

As they rode back to the barn, Alex kept replaying those moments where he’d refrained from making a move over in his head. This had been strike two. If he continued on like this, he was going to hate himself for the rest of eternity, he was pretty sure. Was it some weird kind of side effect of the whole ‘Willie come back to life’ thing? Watching him affectionately say goodbye to his horse once they were ready to leave, Alex looked at his own horse and raised a tentative hand up to her nose.

The mare gazed back, patience gleaming in her eyes. He finally set his hand down on her nose and gently rubbed it up and down, smiling a little to himself. This wasn’t so bad. He could do this - it was just a matter of getting through all the barriers he made for himself in his head. Moving his hands from the horse’s nose, he stroked along her neck, and caught Willie smiling at him from the corner of his eye.

“You wanna try feeding her an apple?” he asked.

Thinking for a few seconds, Alex nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Pulling one out of his backpack, Willie placed it in Alex’s palm.

“Alright, so hold it out in front of you like this…” He positioned Alex to offer the apple. “And keep your palm flat.”

Alex uncurled his fingers and after sniffing at it a little the mare ate it out of his hand. He could ignore the sensation of her mouth touching him because Willie still had his arm around his shoulder to hold him steady. They looked at each other, and Alex wished he could get a proper shot at Willie’s face at that angle with the camera.

“Looks like you’re gonna get the hang of this,” Willie commended.

Alex looked back up at the horse, a little bit of pride swelling in his chest. “Yeah, I think I will.”

Later, they went to the beach at Alex’s suggestion. He was perched on the surface of a picnic table, posed as if he were looking off into the distance. Willie sketched with great concentration, having taken his hair out of his braids so he could run his hand through it. The late afternoon sun brought out all the best color contrasts in their surroundings - one of the things Alex loved about coming to the beach at this time of day.

“So I have a question,” Alex started, trying not to move too much. His tendency to talk with his hands kept getting him in trouble.

“Shoot,” Willie prompted him, not looking up.

“Did Caleb let you go to school or anything? Or did he provide any sort of education at all?”

Squinting, Willie looked thoughtful for a moment.

“So, after the accident, he told me that I’d had to be taken out of school,” he began, continuing to sketch. “Which makes sense, I guess, if I forgot everything. I remember some basic things, like math wasn’t hard to pick up again. Once I was recovered enough to go places, he just let me go to the public library and find whatever I wanted to read. But he always insisted on not having reminders of who I was before and said it was supposed to be helping me ‘become my own person’. He got rid of things like my school yearbooks and old journals and things. I didn’t think anything of it at first because he’d just called it useless clutter and I believed him. As soon as he decided I was fit enough to work in the diner and help out at the hotel, he told me to forget about school. Anything else I picked up was from watching TV, or listening to the radio, or something. Sometimes I’ll just remember I know something after hearing about it and it’s like it was just always there.”

Listening intently, Alex marveled at the whole thing. The fact that Caleb was not only negligent, but actively discouraging Willie from knowing anything, made him wish he could take down the man’s whole career. However, he figured Willie probably had a lot of his intelligence still untapped. If he’d been able to get away from Caleb and somehow create a life for himself in the span of a few months, Alex wondered what else he was capable of.

“What’s something you remember?” he wondered.

“I guess I used to be really obsessed with space. Just planets and stars and all that. I can spout off facts about Jupiter’s moons and stuff like that. Did you know that the moon Europa has a saltwater ocean under a layer of ice?”

Alex shook his head. “No, I didn’t. That sounds really cool though.” He thought of the stickers on Willie’s ceiling and smirked a little before reassuming his pose.

“I sort of wish I could remember being in school,” Willie was saying. “Everyone else seems to just share all of those memories and understand each other that way.”

Alex saw his brow furrow, and could tell he felt left out. He pondered on his own experience growing up in public school. There was almost no other way he would’ve met Luke, Bobby and Reggie if they hadn’t all attended the same schools. While he could easily critique and complain about it to no end, he knew it was a privilege.

“School is definitely hard,” he told Willie. “But I did get my friends out of it, and I guess that makes up for it. If it’s any consolation, you could just complain about Caleb like he was your horrible English teacher who thought he knew more about the subject of your essay, but you cited all of your sources and they proved him completely wrong.”

Willie laughed. “Why? Did that happen to you?”

Alex bobbed his head from side to side and feigned looking thoughtful . “Maybe.”

“I kind of like reducing him to a loser English teacher. He just sounds petty and sad.”

“That’s high school,” Alex confirmed.

Leaning back from his work for a minute to take it all in, Willie brushed a hand through his hair.

“Here, you wanna take a look at it?” he said. Alex hopped off the table and went to stand over Willie’s shoulder at the drawing and was immediately rendered speechless. The detail was impeccable, but Alex was more impressed by the feeling he got looking at it. Willie had managed to make him appear...handsome, and pensive, and fascinating, like anyone else could look at him and create a million unique ideas of who he was. However, it wasn’t anyone else looking at him, it was Willie, and what he’d captured felt like the truth. Alex couldn’t really explain what that meant, only that it was an honest representation.

“Okay, I know I said the one back at your place made me look good, but this is...this is unreal.”

He could see Willie trying to be modest, but the corners of his lips couldn’t stay down. Funny enough, he appeared even more unable to find words, and simply beamed as he looked back and forth between his sketch and Alex’s face.

A sudden impulse came over Alex, and he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on top of Willie’s skateboard and backpack. Willie sat looking flustered for a moment.

“Wanna swim?” Alex nodded toward the waves, bidding Willie to follow. He didn’t wait for him to catch up as he immediately began running into the waves up to his knees. Alex knew his pants would be even more ruined the second he hit the salty water, but he didn’t care. Now the sun was beginning to set and the chill of the waves was refreshing, and he couldn’t express what he felt just then in any other way.

Willie tackled him from behind, climbing onto his back and nearly knocking him over into the shallow tide. Clambering back to his feet, Alex splashed water at him. They began a playful water fight back and forth, until they were both drenched. Eventually, Alex tried to catch hold of both Willie’s hands in an attempt to prevent being splashed anymore. He had the advantage of longer arms, but before he could get a tight hold of the second arm Willie’s leg swept under his and they both fell just as a large wave washed over them.

As the water pulled back, they sat in the sand in a tangle, laughing. All Alex could think of was how pretty Willie was in this light, hair swept back off his face with tendrils resting over his shoulders, sun gleaming in his eyes and constantly shining from the inside out. The laughter died between them and he caught a look in Willie’s eye that made him wonder if he appeared to him to be just as perfect in that moment.

This time his mind and body worked in sync as he lifted a hand and gently pulled Willie into a short, tender kiss. All the self-flagellation from earlier was washed away in one pure moment, and exhilaration moved into its place. It felt soft and sweet, just the way he expected it should. Just as quickly as he’d let go, Willie went in for another one, a little longer and a little deeper. One hand remained caressing his cheek while the other wrapped around his upper back. Alex couldn’t help smiling into another kiss; he was too happy to care about anything else. Hardly a week ago, this had been impossible.

As they let go, their hands came together and they looked into each other's eyes, both releasing a relieved chuckle. Willie looked at the rest of the beach behind them and Alex’s eyes followed, but at this hour there were too few people around and no one paying attention to them. Turning back to Alex, Willie sighed and shook his head with a smile.

“Wow,” was all he said, biting his lip.

“Yeah, I’d definitely do that again,” Alex smirked, until the joy in his chest converted it into a full grin.

A wave washed over them again and they both stood, shaking out their hair and trying to wipe off whatever sand they could. Heading back up the beach, Willie grabbed Alex’s hand so they could make their way up together. The sun was nearly set but Alex was sure it had just gone into his chest, bursting with excitement. Once they reached the picnic table, they gathered their things and Willie offered to carry Alex’s shirt inside his backpack on the way home. Thank goodness there were a few patches of grass so Alex could try to get a little more sand off his feet before putting his shoes back on.

“So how long have you been sitting on that?” Willie teased as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and they left the beach.

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, knowing he was being called out.

“No, really!” Willie bumped his side jokingly. “I want to know!”

Tilting his head back to try to remember, it didn’t take Alex long to give him the answer.

“Since day one,” he told him.

Surprise swept over Willie’s face as he looked at Alex.

“Seriously?” he asked.

Alex nodded.

“Me too.”

It was Alex’s turn to look surprised. Without saying another word, he took Willie’s hand in his and then kissed it before continuing back toward his place. The whole way they talked about all the different things they needed to do together in the future. Riding on more horse trails, dancing lessons, skating lessons, art modeling sessions, going to band practices and gigs, visiting the record store while Willie wasn’t working, etc. They both agreed that the entire day technically counted as a date, and all further plans would as well. Alex was reminded once again that he didn’t have a notebook to write things down in, and vowed to have one for the next time he saw Willie. Once they reached Willie’s door, they had already put their shirts back on and it was completely dark outside.

“Are you free any time next week?” Willie asked, still holding onto Alex’s hand.

“I wish I could say yes, but probably not. And as much as I’d love to give you my number, it’s really not the best idea.”

“Well, I could give you mine,” Willie said.

Alex shot him a confused look. Holding up a finger, Willie dug into his backpack until he found his sketchbook and tore off the corner of a page, quickly scribbling one down and handing it to Alex.

“It’s actually the one for work,” he said. “But if it’s what we can do for now, I’ll do it. Kyle won’t care.”

Looking at it for a minute and then stashing it in his now-dry pocket, Alex took hold of Willie’s chin and went to kiss him again. It was really hard to stop, but they soon broke apart.

“I gotta go,” Alex murmured.

Willie only nodded, squeezing his hand before letting go and slipping his own into his pocket.

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

Once again heading up the short set of stairs to the sidewalk, Alex rubbed his lips together, relishing in the taste of what he and Willie had just done. He couldn’t imagine anything sweeter.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #sunset curve #alive au #willex #willie #alex mercer #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #caleb covington #viva las vegas #with him #fiddlepickdouglas

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breath-of-the-hobbies · 4 years ago

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BOTW2 - A Return to Darkness

(I’ve never written fan-fic before in my life, but all of these new BOTW theories and art inspired me to write this idea out. Special shout-out to @autumn-sweet-fae for the idea about Link’s ability reset! [x])

The series of caverns beneath Hyrule Castle seemed to be a source of boundless interest and excitement for Zelda, who stopped to document every carving and luminescent gem with the Sheikah slate no matter how small or difficult to reach. Link felt the absence of Revali’s Gale acutely whenever Zelda lamented being unable see the carvings far above their heads, but Revali and all of the other Champions had long since moved on, taking their gifts with them.

The two Hylians, displaced in time, had initially begun exploring the newly uncovered cave system as a way to escape the realities involved in rebuilding a kingdom. Soon enough, though, it became obvious that there were important secrets tucked away beneath the ground, perhaps even older than the Sheikah. Zelda hoped that uncovering these secrets could help in the rebuilding process, and so their short, escapist trips had turned into full-fledged expeditions.

They had recently discovered a steeply descending path near an entrance by the Great Plateau. Although Zelda continued to record her findings as diligently as always, they both felt a strange sense of disquiet as they descended into the darkness. Though they had been seeking answers to their questions for months, this was the first time they were afraid of the response.

When they discovered Ganon’s mummified corpse, things began happening very quickly.

Perhaps it was the presence of all three people of legend in one space that activated the chain of events. Within moments of the Hylians stepping into the final cavern, the earth began to shake and malice oozed from the floor. A glowing turquoise light leapt like lightning from Ganon’s form to Link’s arm, which he had instinctively extended to shield Zelda as stalactites and whole chunks of the ceiling rained down around them.

The shock of the light touching his skin—no, entering his skin—was nothing compared to the acidic burning of malice as the slime piled up on itself and swarmed the glowing arm, as though with a single-minded purpose.

Zelda screamed his name over the thundering of stone, knuckles white on her sword grip. Neither of them had seen anything like this, and neither knew how to combat it. Link stepped backwards, tearing at the ooze and trying to keep it away from his princess, noticing how it seemed to be exclusively targeting him. Afterwards, he would remember that small step with piercing regret. If he had only been closer, if he could have moved a little faster…. The ground collapsed beneath Zelda’s feet. Link lunged forward, desperate, reaching—their fingers brushed, and then she was gone.

Link could barely process anything. The earthquake had stopped. Ganon’s corpse had disappeared into the yawning black mouth that now filled the cavern, the same mouth that had eaten the only person who mattered to him in this world. The malice had somehow shriveled and sunk into his arm along with the strange light, and now a black rot was crawling up towards his shoulder, rendering the whole limb dead. He was unable to handle a glider or climb down into the hungry darkness, and the gnawing, unnatural pain in his arm was enough to drive him to his knees.

Slowly, painfully, and with an involuntary cry of agonized frustration, he tightened a belt around his upper bicep in an attempt to stem the creep of malice and stumbled up the debris-filled path to the surface.

When he finally emerged into the calm summer evening, his horse startled and shied at his approach, registering the scent of his arm as a corrupted enemy. Nearly delirious with pain, fatigue, and fever, Link still managed to soothe it, leaning his face against its neck and pretending that it was sweat running into its fur. He could barely stand to look at Zelda’s beautiful horse, but forced himself to clumsily fasten its lead to his own horse’s saddle.

But where to go? His champion allies were gone. The castle was still largely abandoned, the guardians erratically active and monsters as yet un-eradicated. The closest source of help was days away, and the slate had been with Zelda, so there would be no teleporting.

Purah’s not going to be happy about this. He thought nonsensically, and set his horse’s nose towards Hateno Village.

***

He did his best to cling to the horse’s mane, but as the familiar village appeared in the distance, his sense of relief overpowered the adrenaline that had kept him going for the past several days. Slowly, gently, darkness clouded his vision and he slipped from his mount’s back, falling into the ditch on the far outskirts of Hateno Village. The horses, exhausted themselves, barely registered the change in weight and continued on to the place where they knew that apples and good hay could always be found.

The children of the village, who had frequently begged rides from Link and clung to him on past visits, immediately recognized that something was wrong when they spotted the tired creatures trudging up the cobbled street. They ran to the eccentric scientist up in her tower, and joined Symin, her chief researcher, in a frantic search of the area. The sun was beginning to set when they finally found the unconscious Link. Symin scooped the small hero up in his arms, a knot of fear in his stomach, and carried him to his lady.

***

Link opened his eyes to sunshine streaming through a window, birdsong, the warm scent of hay and machine oil. The agonizing, corrupted, wrong pain in his arm had faded, but in its place was a weak and draining numbness. Remembering Zelda’s fall, he sat up with a gasp, and immediately crumpled, spots swimming in his eyes, heartbeat rushing in his ears. As he panted, head between his drawn-up knees, he heard soft steps as someone came up the ladder to this bedroom.

“I would have thought you’d slept long enough the last time, Linky.” Said Purah dryly, but not unkindly. “You’re really pushing my skills here. I had to research tech that hasn’t been used since the Zonai disappeared.” Link slowly lifted his head to look down at his arm. The rot was still there, shriveled black skin stretched over tendon and bone. Two things were different: there were engraved metal bands that clasped his arm from wrist to bicep, softly buzzing with energy, and there was a Sheikah emblem tattooed on the back of his blackened hand.

Purah remained uncharacteristically quiet, letting Link take in the changes, before starting up again to enthuse about the tech. “I’m going to keep optimizing it, of course. It’s wildly inefficient at the moment but I needed to get something on you or you’d lose the arm. Currently the runes are drawing directly from your energy just to stop the procession of the corruption, but I plan to improve that. As such I think it’s going to take you a while to get your strength back. I saw you lost your slate—“ her voice hardened in sudden anger “—but until you get it back I’ve got plans to add some capabilities to this tech in the meantime.”

Link finally found his voice. “Zelda.” he croaked, his defeated, exhausted gaze rising to meet Purah’s.

Her face softened. “We were worried why she wasn’t with you, why you were in that state. We sent some people to the tunnels, but they haven’t returned.”

The half-hoping, half-pleading look in Link’s eyes disappeared immediately, replaced with stubborn determination as he placed his feet on the floor and rose, legs visibly shaking.

Purah sighed, as though she had expected this. “You’re in no shape to go after her now. Zelda has held her own in this world for longer than you have, and she can handle herself. You, on the other hand, need to build your strength back up or you’ll be knocked over by the first bokoblin you meet. Or the first gust of wind.”

Link ignored her, taking slow and unsteady steps towards the ladder. “Link, your clothes!” She yelled after him in exasperation just as he missed the second rung and disappeared from view. A loud thud and a startled exclamation from Symin rose back up through the hole in the floor. “Hylia, why me?” She asked the air.

***

Link glared at the straw monster in front of him, sweat running into his eyes. It took all his effort to raise the stick in his right arm, the numbness of the limb and unfamiliar weight of the tech making every movement sluggish. He had been hacking at the doll for hours and yet it looked fresher than he did.

Symin watched from the window, sipping a cup of tea. “Should we stop him?” He asked. It was several weeks now since the scrawny hero had picked himself up off the floor and legged it out the door, only to collapse less than halfway down the hill. Since then, he had spent every waking moment making his best attempt at training.

Purah didn’t glance up from her book. “The man just lost everything he cares about for a second time. In many ways he’s worse off than he was when he woke from the century’s sleep. At least that time he had his strength, if not his memory. Let him work things out his own way.” Unspoken between them was the knowledge of reports from central Hyrule that the castle was once again filled with malice and making the ground tremble day and night. Link had not told them the details of his encounter, nor indeed spoken hardly at all, but his grim determination said more than enough.

Only a few days later, the morning after Purah had successfully implanted the first upgrade into Link’s arm, Symin slammed open the door to her tower study, panic and worry twisting his face. “He’s gone! Link’s gone!”

Purah turned to gaze out her window. She didn’t look surprised, but her normally boisterous personality was briefly extinguished. She shook herself and turned back to her notes with renewed vigor. “He’ll be back. Let’s be ready for him.”

Chapter 2

#botw #botw2 #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #link #zelda #purah #symin #botw fic #botw2 fanfic #breath of the wild 2

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a-forgotten-spirit · 5 years ago

Text

Love Isn’t An Illusion (4)

Pairing: Todoroki x Bakugou, Todoroki x Reader x Bakugou, VERY SLOW BUILD

Summary: Training with the class, dealing with Mineta, waiting for parents and then studying with the class.

Words: +-6500

Warnings: bad parents, the video about saving Stain, training, using reader quirk during training, Mineta, changing rooms, tight clothing for hero costume, making an illusion in the boys changing room to yell at Mineta, talking to Todoroki, crying, sad, fighting with parents, slight breakdown, excessive/destructive studying, being yelled at by parents, anxiety, depression, not sleeping.

Tagged: @kittycatspervertedheart @lemorrite @gwendlynn @marleps @thicctati2 @saitamastamaticsoup @succulent-momma @aurorahoneybuns @imjusttireddudes @misconceptualised @ochabby @katsukisuwus @gayverlinq @star-witchs-blog @fallbb123

A/N: I wrote this for the fans. I do not own My Hero academia or the characters, I don’t own most of the plot for this story, I had watched the show and re-written the dialogue and plot as if the reader was the main character. Everything is centred around the reader. Please comment, makes me happy. Ask if you wish to be tagged.

Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

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Chapter 4

The week was over, though I hadn’t slept in days. Stain and I’s conversation running through my head like a mantra, I heard some of my other classmates had helped in areas around the city, I was happy for them. I didn’t want to go back to school, not while I was like this, coming home was nothing major. My parents ignored me still caught up about how I hadn’t gone to those interviews, not that I cared for what they thought anymore. I know I wasn’t meant to use my quirk without permission in school or out of school for that matter but as I walked through the school I made it seem like I wasn’t there. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I had gotten messages and a few calls from Deku but not right now.

Coming into the room I sat down making sure to not bump into anyone and listening to everyone's conversations. Both Sero and Kirishima were laughing at Bakugou, from what I had heard he was interning at ‘Best Jeaniest’s’ agency number four hero was extremely impressive. They were laughing at his hair, slicked down and neat, not the usual explosive hair he had. I thought it was cute but I did much prefer the raging hair, it suited him far more than this.

“Stop laughing, my hair has gotten used to this and I can’t get it back the right way. Did you not hear me, I’ll kill you both” he was shaking as the words grit out of his mouth, I couldn’t imagine just how much product was in his hair right now. His hand was open and ready for one step too far from the boys and I was sure he would kill them.

“I’d like to see you try pretty boy” Sero laughed out, mouth open wide and eyes bulging from his head. It was nice to know Bakugou did have friends, he may be very high and mighty but I couldn't imagine other people in the class saying those things and getting away with it.

“What did you call me” and just like that his hair was back and spiky as usual. I liked his spiking hair, going in every single direction and not caring for looks. Even though he suited the style. My hand came to lightly play with my hair H/C locks smooth and silky to the touch. I don’t think I could pull off that hair but it was nice to look at, I wonder what it felt like. He seemed to take immense care of himself so I didn’t doubt his hair would be skipped.

“Awesome, you got to face actual villains. I’m super jealous” my eyes moved from the still laughing duo and an angry screaming Bakugou to Mina. She was smiling and looking at Jirou, she helped those people in the hostage situation I had heard.

“Well, I didn’t fight. All I did was help people evacuate” I was going to speak up but my voice was caught. She shouldn’t belittle her internship, it was a lot to even do that. When you’re in such a situation, you do what you have too even if it is only escorting people to safety. “And provide logistical support” it was still more than some, she should be proud. Her voice was quiet and she was playing with her earphone jack, twirling it around her finger.

“Still sounds like so much fun” Mina was leaning over the table as she called this fact out. She was always so happy and upbeat. I wondered what that felt like, to be so excited for like and things. Sure I was excited to be a hero but with that conversation still running through my mind, it was still a lot to take on.

“I spent the whole time training and cleaning the ship deck,” Tsu thought out loud, her finger placed against her chin as the two other girls listened in. “Oh there was this one day we caught a bunch of drug smugglers,” she said it so calmly that I almost laughed. The two girls seemed to freeze, mouths open and shocked looks. “What about you Ochako, how was your week” when I turned to see Uraraka tense and looking ready to fight I too stopped in my tracks.

“I’d say it was very enlightening” her voice was so cold and I swear to whoever could hear me she had this menacing purple glow around her. She was in a fighting stance then began to punch the air. She must’ve had a very good week if she was so in the zone on a Monday morning.

“I think she found her fighting spirit” Tsu croaked out. I couldn’t agree more, she looked so ready and I wished I could have seen her train. Maybe joined in, not to say my training wasn’t enough. It was more than enough, Snipe and I bonded and got to know each other. I hoped he would still like me later on down the track for more internships.

“Yeah, that battle hero must have been something else” I had to agree with that statement. He seemed nice enough even though Gunhead was a big guy and the name suggested a powerhouse. I had spoken to him and he seemed kind and compassionate, just what Uraraka needed.

“After one week she’s like a totally different person” Kaminari pointed put hands out on the table and looking to be leaning away from where the girl was punching the air, the aura still moving around her. She wasn’t different, just more focused I thought.

“Different. Don’t be fooled Kaminari” Mineta waved his finger back and forth in front of them but then, his eyes widened and he licked his lips a scowl coming to face “All women are demons at heart they just hide their true personalities behind pretty faces” he whispered out. His teeth were chattering and he was shaking?

“What did Mount Lady do to you” Kaminari questioned, gripping the smaller boys arms in a firm grip bringing him back to reality “Everyone at my internship loved me. It was kinda great” I enjoyed my internship even with all the inconveniences and the little mishap partway through the week. “Now if you wanna talk about the ones who changed was those three” Kaminari pointed to Iida, Midoriya and Todoroki conversing at the back of the room “and Y/N”

“Oh yeah the Hero Killer, did you guys see the video that kept getting taken down. Y/N saved him” Sero pointed out, Bakugou having a tight grip on the boys collar his other hand occupied with Kirishima.

“I’m glad you guys and Y/N made it back alive. Seriously” Kirishima sighed out, he looked so calm even though Bakugou had him by the collar though he didn’t seem to be short of breath so he wasn’t choking him which was good.

“I worried for you too” the soft voice of Yaoyorozu spoke out, everyone moved to the back of the classroom and I was nervous someone would bump into me at my desk, no one did.

“It was a good thing Endeavor showed up and saved you guys. Y/N too, her quirk is super powerful. I saw that she stood between Midoriya and the Hero Killer” Sato's voice seemed to be deep but also light in a way. Strange but I liked it, it was calming.

“So cool” Toru wiggled around, her clothes moved as she moved her hands. Her voice sounded like she was interested and seemingly up to date on the topic. It was hard to gauge an emotion or expression with no face to look at. “Just what I’d expect from the number two hero” even though he had done nothing and it was all a cover-up, not that they could hear me.

Todoroki’s eyes fell just as his head did “Yeah, that’s right” he wasn’t very good at lying, he looked uncomfortable and on edge. He had to learn how to lie properly, no one batted an eye but I could see the truth. My heart fluttered knowing I could see the difference. “He saved us” no he didn’t but, just something they had to let go. I got videoed and we couldn’t lie about that. Plus that mysterious video someone taped and posted.

“Did you guys hear the news about the Hero Killer” my ears perked and my eyes left the dual coloured ones of Todoroki and turned to Ojiro instantly. What was he talking about, what news? Had he broken out? “Everyone has been saying he’s somehow connected to the league of villains” I froze, he couldn’t be right? He seemed far to prideful to work with them. He was on a mission, he went on about ridding the world of fake heroes, he wouldn’t associate with them but then again the Nomu were there at the same time. “Can you imagine how frightening it would have been if that creep was there when they attacked the USJ” I didn’t want to think about it if I was honest. I didn’t like thinking about that day. Though he only went after heroes, I don’t think he would have done much damage to us more so the teachers.

“He’s scary, yeah but, did you see him in that weird video” again the video was brought up. I hated that video, it showed me helping him. My ear to his chest and then as I tried to help him. I had watched it so many times, every time it came up I watched it at least five times. Not that the real thing wasn’t constantly playing on a loop in my head. “It’s all over the internet. Stains’ a pretty evil villain but super tenacious, he’s almost kinda cool don’t you guys think” Kaminari pointed out. No, no I didn’t think that at all. He was crazy, totally and utterly bonkers. Mnirodriya called his name and it seemed to snap him back “Oh dude” his mouth was covered as he looked to Iida.

“No, it’s fine. He is quite a tenacious villain. I understand why people might think he was cool but, instead of helping the world his views lead him to cold-blooded murder. No matter his motive killing cannot be condoned” Iida was right, it doesn’t matter your views or thoughts on anything you can’t kill people and everything will be fine. That’s not how the world works nor should it would like that at all. “To keep anyone else from suffering like me. Well” his arm was up straight and his voice rose to shout the next words “I promise, I will strive to be the perfect hero” I was glad he was getting back to his normal self again. He looked up to his brother so much, so many people did.

“Speaking of recent events. Where’s Y/N she’s usually here before most people” Kaminari voiced and then looked around as did everyone. I sighed and let the illusion fall, all eyes turned to me instantly. “Wait have you been there the whole time” he shouted.

“Sorry” I whispered and looked down scratching the back of my head, “Said recent events were quite a lot and it’s taken some time to” I paused and moved my hands around “Accept them” I saw a few nods.

“You were in the middle of the city fight, weren’t you. I saw the videos of you taking down the Nomus’” Jirou turned and smiled. I nodded slowly and then came the yelling. Mina hadn’t seen the videos and was yelling that she was quite jealous of my activities.

“Yeah, I was Snipe’s sidekick for a week. I told all the heroes that wanted me. I wanted to be treated like a hero not a tool for a week” again more yelling and questioning. Most said they thought I was kidding when I left the first time. I couldn’t blame them. “I trained and went on patrol. Even keeping a villain alive, it was a long week” I closed my eyes and smiled. No one other than the three boys at the back of the room knew I had, had a personal conversation with the said villain. I wanted to keep it that way.

“Well now everyone. Class is about to begin” Iida shouted and I mouthed a thank you, I was met with a firm nod. I didn’t want to talk about it, it was quite a lot to deal with especially alone. I would manage. Everyone made their way to their respected seats quickly still quietly chatting away. Though Iida continued to shout.

We were asked to change into our hero costumes and I was so excited. Sure some had seen it but I loved the new look. The iridescent colours and smoke looking mask. I loved it all. All Might was teaching us today and I smiled walking out of the changing room. I got a few looks and I walked down to the training area, my hips swaying and a smile on my face.

“I am here” All Might shout loud and clear for everyone to hear, his hands on his hips. I hoped that one day I could shout something like that and everyone wouldn’t be scared. Everyone would know I was there to help. “I hope you are ready to return to lessons. Today it’s hero basic training, it feels like I haven’t seen you in a while” he wasn’t wrong it had been quite some time. A week at least though I had spoken to him once when I was dropping off something at the end of my internship. “Welcome back. Now listen carefully to what’s in store, we are going to be conducting a little race. Taking everything you’ve learned from your internships and applying it to this rescue training” he explained. Rescue training I admit was important but I didn’t like it at all. I wasn’t good with words and people annoyed me quite a bit but it was part of being a hero.

“If it’s rescue training shouldn’t we be at the USJ instead” Iida yelled hand straight in the air. He still had bandages on and the memory that he might have permanent damage ran through my mind. He was always so confident and pointed out things, I had to thank him some time for talking so much that the teachers didn’t pick on me.

“That facility specialises in disasters. As I said earlier this is a race” the way he spoke those last few words, head tilted down and smile wide I got nervous. Were we racing him because if so, I was going to quite enjoy making myself invisible and running away? “So prepare, you are about to step inside field gamma. Inside is an area full of factories, an intricate labyrinth. Good luck finding your way around. You’ll be competing in groups of five, each group starts on the outskirts of the model city. I’ll send out a distress signal and you do what you must to come to save me. Whoever finds me first, wins. But try to keep the property damage to a bare minimum please” I laughed lightly as his eyes changed from looking at all of us to only looking at Bakugou who was now looking away a scowl etched on his face. His quirk was strong, very strong but his quirk was also destructive which was a problem.

“Tch, why are you pointing at me?” Bakugous’ voice was low and croaky. He was offended by the poor thing. He was looking away not even bothering to make eye contact as I smiled laughing silently. I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger.

“Alright first group get to your places” and then we were off. Splitting up. Deku, Sero, Mina, Iida and Ojiro. The rest of us were moved in front of a TV screen where we could watch the playthrough. I had to learn everyone's attacks and weaknesses...for future reference of course.

Everyone began to talk about who they believed was going to get to All Might first. Sero was at an advantage of simply being able to go over the buildings. Mina couldn’t destroy a lot, Midoriya I wasn’t too sure about. Ojiro could jump around and Iida was fast so they all had fast quirks. This would be something very interesting to watch.

I ignored what everyone was saying. I needed to pay attention, I had to watch them closely in case they made us do it again and we had to fight them myself. I needed to watch them. Once it began Sero was the first to fly off, just like I predicted above everything. Then Mina skidded along the top of the buildings, she was fast. Ojiro on his tail and then Iida running along the ground. This was going to be a race of speed not so much anything else. Then out of nowhere came Midoriya, quick and jumping around on top of everyone. He looked like Bakugou and bit and from the angered look on his face he knew it too. Then he fell. The match was over quickly, Sero won just like I said. He knew his quirk too well and the fact he could easily maneuver through the place was definitely on his side. This was important to remember all their strengths.

I was in the last group. I was up against Bakugou, Todoroki, Uraraka and Tsu. We were on the outskirts and I smirked. This would be easy, when we were allowed to go I watched as everyone began to quickly run off to get to All Might. I looked at the Camera and waved, then sent out an illusion, Cameras could only see the illusion.

“Where did All Might go” I was running along a bridge to his spot, quick and fast. “Dammit Y/N” I could hear Bakugou yell then more explosions. The rules never stated I couldn’t use my quirk to confuse them. I was running full speed as I ran towards All Might who was smiling at me.

Jumping down I let the illusion fade and down I was in front of him as the others landed and I got the sash. “Your quirk is so good” Uraraka looked down painfully her arms swinging by her sides as she sighed. “I thought I had a chance”

“Sorry” I called out and leaned to one side. I could see the angered face of Bakugou as I smiled at him, he huffed and I shrugged. “I like to win” was the last thing I said as the class was over. I let everyone walk along another bridge with me so they didn’t have to walk the whole way to the entrance.

Jumping off I was met with congratulations, soon after we were sent to the changing rooms. I stretched as I walked, my hips swaying. An unfortunate side effect of wearing a skintight suit. I sighed out bringing my arms down and rolling my neck. I had gotten complimented on my new outfit and I flushed instantly. Sure I expected someone to notice but the way Toru went on about how pretty it was and how good I looked, then Mina and Tsu added in their thoughts and then it was all the girls. I couldn’t help but blush.

In the changing rooms, I was getting undressed when I saw all the girls crowd around a little hole. I tilted my head walking over as I pulled my skirt up to my legs not having put my shirt on. I watched as Jirous’ earphone jack went straight through the hole. I could hear Mineta talk about what he wanted to see and I grimaced. I was guessing Jirou hit something at the scream we all heard.

“Thanks, Kyoka” Toru spat out. I was so disgusted that the little pervert would try something like that. I could hear Iida going off at him and I didn’t think it was enough, he shouldn’t be in this course if this is how he acted. Jirou had her hands around her body as if to somehow cover herself.

“Despicable, we will close up this hole immediately” Yaoyarozu huffed out, she had a very angry look on her face and I was sure my face mirrored hers. I was pissed, how low did he have to be to try something like that.

“I’ll have it closed, for now, you can get changed Jirou. He can’t see in” I was met with a smile and then used an illusion to block the hole. “Just give me a moment” I whispered and then heard a scream as an illusion came into the boys' locker room, I could see if I wanted to but instead I only created the illusion.

“You are honestly disgusting” I looked to Mineta, the illusion was clothed, I made sure to put that in as I looked down at the boy who was still standing in front of the hole. “If you ever try something like that again, I will personally make sure you know the full extent of my quirk” with those words the illusion faded.

“Good one. Can you see through it” Uraraka asked and I flushed immediately as I moved to place on my shirt. I wasn’t looking at any of them and I couldn’t blame her for asking.

“If I think hard enough yes. But an illusion isn’t me so no I didn’t see anything though I would have liked to do a bit more damage than yelling if I'm honest” I smiled and heard a group of laughter as I buttoned up my shirt before tucking it into my skirt. The skirt was shorter then I would have liked but that was a price I had to pay by not trying it on before I bought it. It was of a decent length and no one could see anything but paranoia was a key factor.

Soon it was the end of the day and I was off on my way home. It was afternoon as I walked out of the main building and looked at my phone seeing a message. “Picking you up, wait” that was the only thing my mother had written. I was going to tell her not to worry but I knew it would just lead to drama and most likely another fight. Moving to a side bench I sat down and then waited. I continued to wait and wait and wait. An hour and a half later I was now staring at the parking lot waiting for my mother to arrive.

“Y/N” I heard and turned and saw Todoroki standing behind me, book bag in hand and staring at me confused. I looked to Todoroki trying to see any emotion “Why are you still here, school ended hours ago” he commented. I could ask him the same thing.

“Oh, well, you see” I stuttered, should I lie. Should I say I'm in an after school group, no he might ask which one. He could see my hesitance and my words fell “My mother told me to wait” I whispered and looked down to my phone. All the messages were delivered but none had been replied too. “I’m sure she’s just caught up with something” even though I could hear the lie in my tone.

He heard it too as I nodded and looked back to my phone “Do you want me to wait with you” I felt like my heart stop. He was so nice, yet so quiet. I had seen him lose his cool though, at the hospital. I moved to meet his eyes “I’m happy too” he spoke as I looked down again.

I considered it, it was lonely and I needed to make friends. What was I thinking, I softly shook my head “No” I breathed out, licking my lips, shaking my head as I fakely smiled “No, it’s ok. You go home” I tried to smile again but it was small and didn’t reach my eyes.

“Are you ok?” he asked and I tilted my head confused “You’re crying” I paused my hand coming to my eyes, I was indeed crying. Tears fell down my face as he moved to sit next to me. I quickly wiped my eyes.

This was so embarrassing “I’m so sorry” I whispered trying to desperately stop crying in front of him. This was extremely awkward and my eyes hurt a little after as I rubbed them harshly. “It’s just been a long week is all” I smiled.

“There’s no need to apologise. It’s ok to cry” no it wasn’t, it was not ok to cry especially in front of a classmate you’ve had one conversation with. I was so embarrassed I could feel my hands shake, I put them in my lap so he wouldn’t see. “You don’t have a good relationship with your parents do you” I looked at him quickly, he had a face as he understood and I sighed out and nodded. “I don’t either” he was always so honest not thinking twice about his words “I saw how your mother treated you after the festival” I nodded slowly.

“Yeah” I whispered dismissively “She’s just got a lot on and is always busy” I rubbed my shoulder subconsciously “She doesn’t mean it, I don’t think” my fingers dug into my skin as I nodded and tried to hold back my tears “She’s just” I paused and then let the air leave my lungs. “Her”.

“My dad isn’t the best” he admitted and I nodded agreeing. We spoke for a while, just talking and getting to know each other. It was fun to just talk to Todoroki. I found out he likes Cold Soba and wants to be the top hero to throw it in his dad's face.

“You should head off, it’s getting dark and I don’t want you going home when it is dark. My mother will be here soon, I'm sure of it” a little bit more persuading and he was off walking out of the school. Teachers left as I sat there and waited.

It was dark now and I was running low on battery as I tried to pass the time. I wasn’t worried as I was still on school grounds though I was getting angrier by the second now that most of the parking lot was empty. Then after almost four hours of waiting her car shows up, getting into the car I notice new nails and dyed hair.

“Did you go to the salon?” I asked as she began to drive off. No, I just hadn’t been paying attention right? I looked back seeing bags in the back seat, she just grabbed a few things earlier today on her break. Yeah, she wouldn’t make me wait four hours for no reason.

“Yes and” she commented brushing her hair behind her ear. We made it out of the parking lot as I was trying to reel in my anger, I could feel it rolling off me in waves. I was about two seconds away from losing my mind.

“So you made me wait at school for four extra hours, when I could've gotten home by myself, to what” I began throwing my arms around but making sure to not go on her side. I may be angry but I didn’t want her to crash. “Piss me off. Why would you make me wait if I could’ve just gone home” my voice was loud and I was yelling.

This started an argument, both of us yelling and her making excuse after excuse for no good reason. “I had shit to do Y/N” that didn’t excuse it. I hadn’t asked her to pick me up. I was fuming, my eye twitching “Besides I’m doing something nice for you, be grateful” she snapped her hair beginning to move.

“Grateful” I whispered “Grateful” I screamed, we were at a red light as she turned to me “Be grateful for having to wait four hours. My teachers and peers are looking at me in pity. Be grateful for you not talking to me for a week, what else should I be grateful for” I yelled my hands rising above my head “Please enlighten me” I finished and her hair was now moving around in the air, she was pissed but by god, I was about ready to pull the car onto the other side of the road. She turned to the road ignoring me “Wow would you look at that” I commented.

The rest of the drive was silent, as soon as the car stopped I grabbed my things opening the door and then slamming it harshly a loud bang is heard and yell from my mother. I opened the front door and my dad was angry already. How amazing.

“Where have you been?” he shouted and came to stand in front of me, chest puffed and nose flaring “I have been waiting for hours. No message, no call. Who were you with” I was about to talk when he stomped his foot “Tell me this second”

I was past my caring limit, past angry and past hysteria. I was so livid “Your wife made me wait at school for four hours while she went out shopping. If you were so worried, message me yourself for a change” as she walked in the door bags in hand I growled as she too began to scream at me. “Enough” I screamed and shook the house. My quirk running into my voice, both stilled. “Enough. I’m over this, I have had an extremely long week and I don’t want to deal with the two of you right now” with those words I stormed to my room.

Putting up a sound barrier, my quirk did work wonders sometimes. I screamed. I screamed and screamed and screamed. Placing myself into an endless box, I flipped and broke things that came to mind. When I was a little calmer I let the box fade as I sighed out. My room was fine, no damage done. I was livid, I was over this house. Over my parents caring only for themselves. I couldn’t bear it. I had to calm down. I had to be calm. I sighed and then got changed into something more comfortable.

Falling onto my bed with a huff I was glad I had locked the door as I was not in the least bit presentable at this given moment, hair a mess and only wearing a jumper and underwear with socks. I hadn’t studied at all today, lifting myself from the bed I moved to my desk getting my books and pens ready.

I had muted the class group chat but when I got a notification on it I knew someone had said my name. Putting in the thumbprint I moved to look at the message. It wasn’t just me, it was ‘@everyone’ Kaminari was asking for help. Within seconds he had gotten a few replies. I was the top student in the class, something I had to keep.

Putting on some light music I hummed along while I studied. Pages upon pages as I sat at my desk, the music changing and shuffling. I made sure to put on the ‘Calm’ list when studying. Mellow music with calm beats and slow lyrics. I loved it, it helped to stay focused. I skipped dinner, something I had been doing the last few days. When I considered myself done it was well past midnight and I knew I had to awaken in only a few hours. I had been overworking myself the past few days both physically and mentally.

Getting up from my desk I stretched my back and then turned off the light. Heading to bed for at least a few hours. This routine went on for a while, I was getting more and more tired. I was showing up on time but later and later until I was walking in with Aizawa. I was using all my effort to participate and pay attention in class. I had helped Todoroki and Midoriya study a few times, Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari tagging along then it turned into a half a class thing.

“Y/N you have such neat notes” Kaminari complimented and with hooded and under shaded eyes I thanked him. I helped whoever needed it, I began talking to them more often and even Bakugou had tagged along. I ended up helping him a few times even though I played it off as he was helping me for the others.

“How does someone have the mental capacity to take these kinda notes in class and then study” Mina called out throwing her arms in the air and her head falling back with a cry. I was sitting next to Bakugou and Todoroki, I should say in the middle of them when I received a call.

I didn’t even look at the caller as I tiredly answered “Hello” it was silent for a few moments as I yawned and held the bridge of my nose. I could see everyone being quiet as I waited for a reply.

“Where are you” came a scream and I could see I was getting a few stares. With a confused glance and pulling the phone from my ear, I looked at the caller ID and saw it was my mother. I nodded slowly and put it back. “Answer me” she screamed.

“I am at a study group with people from my class” I answered calmly, I didn’t have the energy to deal with her today. I hadn’t slept in days and my anxiety was through the roof at this point. “I told you I was going, you said and I quote ‘I couldn’t care less’” I didn’t care who could hear I was tired and on my last brain cells of living.

“Don’t expect me to pick you up” she shouted, it sounded like she was in the car. I put my hand up to the class and stood, stumbling over a little way away from the table to have this conversation somewhat private.

“I didn’t” I answered and leaned against a wall, not quite able to hold myself up at this given point of time. I sighed out and rolled my eyes as the yelling continued.

“What time will you be home” as I was about to answer I heard a beep “Idiot” so she was driving, I rubbed my eyes just trying to keep them open. “Answer me” another scream and I pulled the phone away from my ear for a moment to not go deaf.

“When it’s over, I have keys. I always have keys” I answered softly. If she even cared a little she would be able to hear just how tired I was and how much I wanted this conversation to end. More screaming. “I need to go” then all went silent.

“Whatever. You know what, whatever. Do as you wish, as per usual” then she hung up. I pulled the phone away looking at the call symbol disappear and sighed. I ran my fingers through my hair. It was only just after dinner, I could go home but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her but I was so tired. I had to study, I sighed, I had to study.

Now I was angry, walking over I threw my phone on the table with a loud bang, not caring for the device at all as I grabbed my book and began to write. I was writing so fast, I was so mad, so burnt out. I was writing science formulas and going down the page as I changed colours and wrote my notes as I usually did.

“Are you ok?” Kirishima asked slowly and I looked up, eyes lidded, the bags beneath my eyes felt like they were pulling my eyes down. I nodded with pursed lips “You don’t look ok” he added and I heard a few agree.

“Just a normal day, nothing to worry about” I whispered and I could see the worried faces begin to blossom. I didn’t like the attention and swallowed, I looked down and saw all my calculations and noticed I had done an entire science calculation in anger. A hard one too. Dropping my pencil I rubbed my eyes.

“When was the last time you slept?” Sero asked his smile fading but teeth still showing. Now everyone seemed interested in this question, I too was interested in the answer.

I thought about it “Monday” I said questioningly “I think I slept on Monday. What day is it” I asked and looked down, it was Thursday. “Saturday I had an hour, I think I had about half an hour Monday” I answered and nodded “Or was that the Saturday study breaks” I whispered and shrugged “I don’t know” I answered.

“That’s not good” Bakugou spoke in a calm voice. I turned to him and nodded slowly. My eyes closed for a second and I shook my head to bring myself back. I could hear people saying I should go home and sleep, eat something. “You haven’t been eating either” Bakugou pointed out.

“I have to study” I swallowed and all conversations died down. I shook my head “I can’t fall behind” I whispered and I felt the air get sad. I began to highlight and write and the conversation came back into the room. Laughter and other things. I sat in between Bakugou and Todoroki just doing my work, helping them a few times before returning. It was well into the night when we all departed. I was packing up my things as I almost fell over being caught by packing up Bakugou. “Sorry” I whispered.

I watched as people watched me stumble out of the room and then down the hall. I accidentally bumped into Aizawa who was holding papers and almost fell over again “Y/N” he asked and I was off again down the hall.

The next few days began the same until Monday morning when the class ended. I was having trouble staying awake through the whole class but I had to pay attention to every single second. I didn’t have time to fail. I needed to do this. I needed to pass, I needed to do well. I could only sleep on the day of the exam.

“Alright, that’s it for today, you only have one more week before the exam” I was smiling ear to ear, I could sleep. One week, I had to sleep. I had to be fully rested for the exam, I was so tired. “I’m sure you’re all studying constantly, right?” I nodded. Yes, yes I was. “Don’t forget to keep training, the written exam is only one element” no sleep for me then. I had been training but not enough, I had learned skills but I needed to put them into action. I had to do well, there was not an option for failure. “There’s also the practical portion to worry about. Good luck” and with those words the door was closed and my anxiety shot through the roof.

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Chapter 5

110 notes · View notes

dovechim · 5 years ago

Text

a remedy for mondays 02 (m)

➾ 12.6k

➾ please read part 01 first!!

➾ summary: all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

➾ warnings: SMUT, risky unprotected sex (pls be safe!), one night stand, oral sex (m&f), cum fetish/ cum eating (m), creampies, public bj, impregnation kink, baby making dirty talk, switch jimin.

➾ a/n: happy monday (at least for me)!!!! the smut is finally here u guys... i feel like im making up for lost time lmaooo ok but real talk there’s a lot more to come in the future. once again, i wanna express my undying love for @jimlingss. without her, half of what's in this fic would not exist c:

love you guys. have a good week ahead 💓

The notifications are pouring in like crazy. Before this you didn’t even realise you had this many friends, but it seems like now everyone wants a piece of the congratulations-pie, everyone wants to share in on your good news.

Your sister has been calling and texting you non-stop to ask when your next checkup is, and if she can come along to see the ultrasound. Your mother has been leaving long, weepy voicemails begging you to call her back.

It’s all just too much, and its Monday again.

“Your performance has been awfully sub-par lately,” your manager sighs as she flips through your report. “I thought we went over this the last time we met? Where’s the analysis for the datasets I gave you last week?”

“I’m sorry, I’ll work harder,” you mumble under your breath, swallowing back the unfairness that tastes bitter in the back of your throat. Even though you’d spent what was remaining of your weekend churning out all the reports, it’s still not enough. Nothing will ever be enough for your slave driver of a manager.

“See that you do. You may go for now,” she dismisses you, and you leave her office.

You plop down at your desk with a heavy sigh, looking at your emails with no real motivation to do anything. Between the pressure at work and the whole mounting scandal of your supposed pregnancy, you are caught between a rock and a hard place. There’s no real solution to any of this. All you have to blame is yourself.

No, actually, your asshole boss is to blame. She sent you a set of painfully incomplete datasets last week, expecting you to get a full analysis out of them. When you wrote back to her that some data was missing, hence making it difficult for you to analyse, she just ignored your email.

Feeling your anger surge through our entire body, you pick up your mug and shove yourself out of your chair, muttering under your breath.

“What the fuck does she want me to do, magic the data out of thin air? Pull the data out of my ass?” Luckily everyone around you is too absorbed in their work to notice that you’re walking around and talking angrily to yourself.

You wash your cup with more vigour than necessary, scrubbing extra hard as you imagine that the surface of your cup is your boss’s face. You get back to your seat and set your cup down, breathing hard both from the exertion and the annoyance.

“I hit 200 mentions this morning,” Park Jimin remarks casually as he drops his briefcase on his desk and sinks into his chair. “I’ve never had this many notifications before.”

You shoot him an annoyed glare. “Not here!”

Gesturing for him to follow you, you scope out an empty meeting room and close the door. He comes in and sits on the desk with his arms crossed.

“So what are we going to-“

“Let’s have a baby.”

Park Jimin gapes at you, and if the situation weren’t this dire, you’d laugh about how someone so handsome can get caught off guard too. You run your eyes over his body, from the way his thighs look thicker as he perches on the edge of the desk, his slim biceps that show through his white dress shirt, and his dashing good looks. Why nothave a baby with Park Jimin? At this point, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to you.

“You’re not thinking straight are you?” Jimin cautions with his hands up, as if trying to ward off a raging, charging bull. “What happened? Did your manager give you hell again? You’re always cranky on Mondays.”

“I’m cranky, am I?” Your voice has a slight edge to it. “I’ll tell you why I’m cranky alright. My sister is texting me every two seconds asking if I’ve set up an appointment with the doctor yet. My mother is calling me every four seconds to tell me what she thinks our baby’s name should be-“

“Wait- really? But you haven’t gotten a single call in the whole time that you’ve been here…”

“I’m not getting a moment’s peace,” you whirl around on him with a slightly manic look on your face, and Park Jimin’s eyes widen even more, and he gulps in fear. “Let’s just have this fucking baby already.”

Jimin knows well enough not to engage someone when they’re in full on panic mode, so he lets you take a few deep breaths before speaking. Over the past few months, he’s grown pretty familiar with what your likes and dislikes are, particularly your preference for drowning your sorrows in alcohol. So maybe the next thing that he suggests is not the most rational, but fuck it, at this point, does it even matter anymore?

“You know what? Let’s ditch work early today and go for drinks.” Jimin watches your expression change immediately, and his heart seizes in relief.

But then a frown crosses your face. “Oh but I can’t, I have that fucking dataset to analyse…”

“Fuck it.” You’re shocked when the expletive leaves his lips; the normally reserved Park Jimin who always does all his work and makes sure to cross his ‘t’s and dot his ‘i’s. “It’s Monday. Who wants to work on a Monday?”

It feels like the two of you are doing something illegal when you lean to the side and catch Park Jimin’s eye at exactly 5pm on the dot. You already decided that leaving at the same time from your seats would be far too inconspicuous, so the plan is for you to pretend to go to the ladies’ washroom, which is in one direction, and for him to leave for the men’s about 10 minutes later, then meet at the taxi stand and hail a cab to get the hell out of this place.

It’s a whole rendezvous, and since you left earlier, you reach the taxi stand first; panting even though you haven’t done that much physical exercise to justify it at all. The minutes are ticking by; any time now any one of your coworkers could walk by and see you waiting for a taxi and immediately know that you’re leaving work early. But it’s even worse still if they happen to catch you and Park Jimin hopping into a cab together, so you only pray that your brainless coworkers are tied to their desks.

Not a second later, Park Jimin appears, his hair ruffled and his eyes shining behind his glasses with mirth. His lips are quirked into an excited smile as he waves down a cab, opens the door for you and gestures you in. The simple act of his, done without much thought at all, actually makes your heart skip a beat as you get in.

You can’t help but obsessively check over your shoulder to see if any of your co-workers just so happen to be around. It’s only when you clear the near vicinity of your workplace that your shoulders sag with relief, and even more so when the cab screeches to a stop, signalling that you’ve arrived. Jimin pays the driver without a word, refusing to accept your money as you clamber out of the cab after him.

It’s not the typical scene you would have found yourself at in your younger days. This bar is a lot more lowkey, the lighting is dim despite the fact that they haven’t even reached happy hour yet. It’s hard to make out anyone’s face inside, and you nearly lose sight of Jimin were it not for the fact that his hand is tightly grasping yours.

“What would you like to start off?” Jimin asks as you reach the bar. He turns to see you struggling to get on the high chair in your skirt and heels, and he reaches to steady the back of the chair so that it doesn’t tip over.

“Shots.” You declare. “I need to get wasted, and fast.”

Giving you a raised eyebrow, but not protesting in the least, Jimin turns to order and in that moment, gives you a really nice glimpse of his side profile. Somewhere along the taxi ride he had taken off his glasses and pushed his hair back, and unbuttoned his dress shirt a little more. You have to tear your eyes away from him when the bartender presents you with a tray of tequila shots with salt decorating the rim, and some finger food to go along with it.

You grab one and he follows suit.

“What should we toast to?” Park Jimin asks.

“To our baby,” you say with a slight laugh, and though you can feel the slightly weird look that the bartender gives you, you don’t really give a fuck. All that matters is that the only other person in here who knows the truth is Park Jimin, and he gives you a shared smile as you clink glasses.

The alcohol burns as it slides down your throat, and you immediately reach for another to chase it down. The tray clears out pretty quickly as Jimin matches you shot for shot, and every time you put down your glass, reality gets further and further away, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“So tell me,” Jimin says as he reaches for the ketchup bottle and uncaps it, pulling the bowl of truffle fries closer to him. “Was this always your dream?”

You stop him as he’s about to pour ketchup all over the top of the fries like a savage instead of doing it the normal way, on the side. “Dude, order your own fries if you’re gonna ruin them like that!”

“What, how is that weird? I’ve always done that!”

“You belong in a mental institution,” you fix him with a glare. “Anyway, was whatalways my dream?”

Jimin just shrugs and gives in as he takes a few fries from the bowl to dip, like a civilized person. “This job.”

“Was working at a desk job for 9 hours straight always my dream? Uh, I think not,” you chew on your fries. “Which child ever had a dream like that? Did youhave a dream like that?”

“Me? I wanted to be a policeman,” Jimin grins as he raises his clenched fists. “You know all that idealistic shit children believe in. Making a difference in the world. Catching all the bad guys. Things like that.”

“So you don’t believe in those things anymore?”

“No, I still believe in them,” he raises another shot to his lips and downs it with a grimace. “I just realised that things aren’t so black and white. There are bad guys everywhere, but sometimes you just can’t catch them. Sometimes they’re the ones in positions of power over you and you gotta live like that.”

You reach for another shot, but the tray is empty. Jimin signals the bartender to bring you a second round of drinks; a gin and tonic for you and a coke with vodka for him. The alcohol has your senses buzzing pleasantly, it feels like there’s a disconnect between your brain and your mouth, but you don’t actively object to it either. It feels nice to be able to tell someone things like this.

“I gave up on having a dream long ago. Not everyone is lucky enough to do what they like in life, and I already accepted that I’m not one of those people. And it’s okay.” You turn in your chair so that you are facing Jimin directly, though you have a bit of trouble because it seems like your body is disconnected from your brain.

Jimin helps you with a hand on your thigh that sends shockwaves through your entire body. His daring touch makes your heart speed up, and when he positions your chair so that his thighs are on the outside of yours, you can barely breathe as you look him in the eye. And then he leans forward, slowly, bit by bit, until you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he only takes a whiff of your alcohol laden breath.

“Come on. I should see you home. We still have work tomorrow.” His words brook no resistance as he helps you off the chair with an arm around your waist, and the alcohol seems to have taken effect on you faster than usual today, because you’re only capable of sinking into him, feeling his firm body against yours.

A cab pulls up to the entrance of the bar, and Jimin shields your head as you get into the car, barely having control over your limbs. You mutter your address to the driver, and over the ride home, the bumps and turns actually help you to sober up a little, but then you begin to notice the little things like how Park Jimin’s thighs are actually pretty thick.

And when he stretches forward to pay the driver again, you notice how nice his biceps are.

When he walks in front of you leading you with one hand, you notice how tight his ass looks in his pants.

As he waits for you to unlock your door, you feel his breath on the nape of your neck, and just the feeling of having his body this close to yours is just-

“So um, goodnight, it was fun, I guess,” Park Jimin is stuttering and stumbling over his words as he scratches the back of his neck. “We should do it again sometime. Ditch work, I mean.”

Oh fuck it all to hell, you think to yourself as you grab Park Jimin by the collar and pull him into you, your lips meeting and immediately, you taste the sweetness of the coke on his tongue. Park Jimin lets out an adorable little grunt of surprise, but his hands still wrap around you anyway, one around your waist and the other inching down towards your hip.

“We- shouldn’t be doing this,” Park Jimin pants in between kisses as you bite his lips roughly, and watching them become swollen with your kisses gives you a strange satisfaction that you’ve never experienced with anyone else.

But his rationality is impeded by the alcohol rushing through his bloodstream, but even more so than that, the feel of your soft body against him. So Park Jimin forgets what he was going to say next as you make him walk backwards in the direction of your bedroom.

“But we’re doing it anyway,” you tell him with flushed cheeks, and his hands agree with you as they climb up your body, reaching for the zipper on the side of your skirt.

He pulls your skirt off impatiently, but you won’t let him get away with it so easily as you fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, finally prising them apart to get a good look at his sleek chest muscles and his toned abdomen.

“Shit,” you swear under your breath. “When the fuck did you get those?”

Park Jimin looks smug as he pushes his shirt off his body, feeling his abs tense as you straddle his lap. “What do you mean? I’ve always had these.”

“I thought you were just some skimpy little nerd,” you huff at him in slight annoyance. It’s almost a little rude of him to spring it on you like this, suddenly turning from the computer geek nerd into a hot walking sex god.

“A nerd hot enough for you to have a one-night stand with,” Jimin throws back at you with a proud smirk, and irritated with his sudden overconfidence, you shut him up by grinding against the bulge in the front of his now too tight dress pants.

“That doesn’t count, I was panicking,” you try to defend yourself weakly, but Jimin ignores you in favour of mouthing against your neck, kissing his way down to your bra cups, which he pulls down with his teeth. As if to prove his point that you are having a one-night stand with him right now.

Jimin is fumbling with your bra at the same time you are trying to undo the button of his pants, and the whole affair is desperate; the two of you are half-sober and everything is a blur. All you know is, the next thing his pants are off, his cock is leaking on his stomach, and the desire to take him in your mouth is undeniable.

Your hand grasps him at his base, and he bucks his hips into you immediately, curses falling from his swollen lips. A few good strokes, and then you can’t wait anymore, your lips close around his head and the saltiness of him spreads across your tongue.

“Ahhh, fuck,” Jimin’s hands tangle themselves in your hair. “I- gu-ess we’re not co-workers anymore?”

Your mouth is too full of cock to respond as you sink down on him deeper, loosening your throat as your tongue teases the underside of him. Saliva is already dripping from the corners of your mouth to run down your chin, and you belatedly realise that your bra is still on; Jimin hadn’t managed to get it off. With one hand you reach behind you and undo the clasp, shrugging the bra off in a single movement as Jimin swears as if he just witnessed a miracle (he’s never actually seen any of the girls he’s been with do this.)

You pull yourself off his cock for a moment to give yourself a breather, resting the head of him against your chin as you look up at him. “Just ask yourself, Park. Would a co-worker be sucking your dick like this?”

And then your mouth is back on him; you feel his hands in your hair and his thighs trembling beneath you. His cock is leaking in your mouth, it is thick in your throat as you bob up and down, the sounds of you choking around his cock are filthy and wet.

“Stop!” Jimin sounds out with a gasp, his abs trembling from the amount of effort it takes him not to blow his load. “It- it’s been a while. I don’t wanna cum yet, please.”

His pleading, whiny voice that’s filled with desperation makes you reconsider. Maybe he isn’t a sex god after all; he just happens to have a good body. You pull away from his cock and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, and Jimin pulls you forward to sit on his lap. His cock brushes against your stomach, and he can’t seem to keep his eyes off your breasts.

“Have you even done this before?” You mean it as a joke, but Park Jimin’s eyes widen in panic.

“What?! Of course I have!” He says defensively. “Let me eat you out and I’ll show you.”

He reaches for the waistband of your underwear, but you swat him away impatiently. “That’ll take too long. Just let me ride you and we can both cum.”

You push down your underwear in a single movement, not missing the way his eyes are drawn to how your arousal clings to the material. He helps you situate yourself on him with his hands around your waist, and you grab the base of his cock to start to guide him into you. But then, Park Jimin stops you.

“Make sure you’re wet enough?” He asks as he runs his fingers against your slit, though he pretty much already knows the answer just from seeing how soaked your panties were. He just wants to feel the evidence of your arousal for himself. His fingers come away sticky and soaked.

While Park Jimin is busy marvelling at how wet you are just from sucking his cock, you position the head of his cock at your entrance, and then you sink down slowly onto him. The stretch of him against your walls makes you dig your fingers into his shoulders, and likewise, Park Jimin’s fingers dig themselves into your waist as he moans out your name.

“F-fuck, you’re tight,” Jimin barely manages to get out as you stop with a few more inches to go. “You didn’t answer my question earlier on.”

“What is it?” You grit your teeth as you position yourself on your knees, trying to work yourself into taking his entire cock. It had been a while since you last had dick, let alone one as thick as Park Jimin’s, but you aren’t a quitter by any means.

“We- we aren’t co-workers anymore, huh?” Jimin groans again as you squeeze his cock with your walls.

“For fuck’s sake, Park,” you growl at him as you start bouncing on his cock, each slap satisfying as he bottoms out inside you. “We stopped being co-workers the minute I publicised our one-night stand.”

Your hands are on his chest for better leverage as your hips grind on his cock to get him as deep as possible, alternating between up and down movements and side to side movements. Park Jimin has his hands on your hips to help guide you, but he realises you don’t need guidance, so he just sits back to let himself enjoy the visual spectacle that’s unfolding in front of him. You, with your cheeks flushed and breasts loose and bouncing because of his cock, riding him as if your life depends on it. Jimin looks down to where his cock disappears inside you, where your sweet thighs are flexing and working to get the both of you off. But it’s not quite enough.

“Turn around,” he begs. “Wanna see your ass too.”

“God, you’re so fucking weird, Park,” but you do it anyway, letting his cock slide out of you as you turn around and fold your knees under you so that your back faces him.

Jimin spreads his thighs just enough so that they frame your ass perfectly, his hand pressing against your lower back so that you arch and press your ass against him even more. Then he spreads your cheeks with one hand and guides his cock back into your warm depths with the other, groaning when you push back onto him and sit on his cock fully. Now every time you bounce on his cock, your ass jiggles deliciously, and as an ass man, Jimin appreciates this view so much that he tries his best to take a mental picture of this whole view with his mind.

His cock sliding into your pussy so easily since you’re so wet, the fleshy globes of your ass against his thighs as you fuck yourself back onto his cock.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” he warns you with his cheeks hot and abs tensing.

“Just cum already,” you huff in impatience as you turn your head to catch a glimpse of his already fucked out look, lips swollen and his hands on your ass as his cock twitches inside you.

With your permission, Jimin lets himself go as he feels his balls tense, cock releasing inside your sweet, warm pussy and filling you up all the way with his cum. He continues to watch your ass bounce on his cock to milk him dry of every drop, his hips thrusting upwards in an effort to prolong his pleasure. Once he can feel that he’s given you every drop of cum in his body, he places his hands on your ass and pushes you forward with cheeks spread so he can see how well he filled your pussy.

His softening cock starts to slide out from you, and Jimin can see his cum start to leak from your pussy almost immediately. To your benefit, you are giving him the fucking show of his life as you arch your back and lean forward, guided by his hands as you lower your upper body to the bed.

“Shit, oh fuck it,” Jimin mutters to himself as he pushes himself into a sitting position, then with both hands grasping the back of your thighs, he flips you over till you are on your ass, then pulls you with legs spread closer to him. The sight of your cream filled pussy is just too tempting to resist, and Jimin licks through your soaked folds as he savours your taste mixed with his.

He barely hears you squeak out his name in surprise as he continues to devour your creamed pussy, tongue around your clit in circles and fingers dipping into your cunt to tease out more of his cum from your depths. To his pleasure, his cum leaks from you in an ever steady stream as he eats you out; your thighs are shaking around his head as you cry out your pleasure till you lose track.

When you beg him to stop, thighs quivering from overstimulation and clit raw and abused, he raises his head and gives you a quick kiss to your inner thigh, collapsing onto the bed in pure exhaustion. Post high, you are both wiped out, and that’s how the two of you, who are most certainly notco-workers anymore, fall asleep.

Everything is too bright. And everything hurts, your throat is dry and again, everything hurts. You forget that you aren’t in your prime time anymore; that drinking is a night of fun followed by a morning of regret.

Though this morning, you have a lot more to regret than just alcohol.

You wake up with an alien arm around your waist, and frustrated by the unwanted physical contact, you toss it away with an annoyed grunt. Your elbow strikes out in the same direction, only to hit a solid, warm body beside you, and then your eyes shoot open as you sit straight up in bed.

Only to find a very naked, very passed out Park Jimin sleeping beside you.

“Holy fucking shit,” the realisation of exactly what happened last night hits you, and dread punches you in the stomach.

“Is it morning already?” Park Jimin buries his face into your sheets, his blonde hair sticks out in every direction. “Five more minutes, mom.”

Irritated that he’s yet to come to his senses, you kick his stupid, bubble butt, and he jerks awake, opening his eyes blearily. Once he takes in your expression, he closes them immediately.

“Can’t say that’s the best thing to wake up to in the morning,” Jimin says with his face buried in the sheets again, his voice muffled. “Nothing kills my morning wood faster than-“

“Get the fuck up, Park,” you hiss at him, clutching the sheets to your chest. “Come to your fucking senses!”

At the tone of urgency in your voice, Park Jimin finally shakes himself awake; he blinks slowly until he takes in the whole situation: you and him, supposedly co-workers, waking up together in the same bed, naked.

“Holy fuck, did we just…” Park Jimin glances down at his cock that lies limp against the side of his thigh, and the sticky, dried essence left behind. “Oh my god. We fucked.”

“We arefucked,” you correct him.

It seems as if whoever is running things up in the divine realm really has it out for you. Nursing a hangover as you walk into work, you try your best not to make eye contact with Park Jimin, which is easier said than done considering that he sits right opposite you.

So this is how it feels when two colleagues actuallyhave a one-night stand.

You run a hand through your hair in frustration, unable to focus on any of your tasks this morning.

“Hey, _____- whoa, are you feeling okay?” Kim Taehyung does a double take as he passes by your desk. “You look a little, um… under the weather. You feeling alright? Is it… how’s the baby? How many months are you again?”

Your face only pales even further as he brings up the non-existent baby, and with that, a realisation that the both of you didn’t use protection last night. Park Jimin seems to have arrived at the same realisation, because he makes eye contact with you for the first time that morning as he peeks out the side of his computer.

“I’m- I’m alright,” you manage a forced smile, wanting nothing more than for him to just fuck off already so that you can begin to process all this in peace and figure out exactly how screwed over you are.

“Well, if you say so,” Kim Taehyung says with a doubtful frown. “You know, _____, we actually have really great benefits for mothers. Even unwed mothers. I’d love to sit down and go through them with you one day if you could spare me the time. Wait actually, can I see your baby bump? I always thought they were the cutest-“

“I have to throw up,” you say without hesitation, and you stand up and push past him on your way to the restroom.

It’s not entirely a lie, since you do spend a good ten minutes praying at the porcelain altar, but no one has to know it was because of alcohol intoxication. When you finally flush and then rinse out your mouth at the sink, you open the door of the restroom to find Park Jimin waiting with a worried look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He starts, but then Jeongguk walks by you and shoots you both an admiring look.

“Lovebirds alert!” He sings out in that highly irritating voice of his as he dances down the aisle.

“No, I want to fucking die,” you mutter under your breath as you stare daggers into Jeongguk’s back.

“I need to ask you something,” Park Jimin says urgently as he glances around for any eavesdropping ears. He grasps your hand and tugs you into the nearest meeting room, and once he makes sure that the doors are locked securely, he turns to you again. “We used a condom last night right? We are responsible, working adults. We wouldn’t forget something as basic as that.”

You sink down onto a chair with a glum look on your face. “Impossible. We couldn’t have used a condom. I don’t have any condoms in my house.”

Park Jimin makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “Well… then, you’re on birth control right?”

“It makes me gain weight like crazy. The only reason why I’m not a balloon right now is because I went off the pill years ago.”

There is a beat of silence as Park Jimin stares at you as if you’re pulling his leg. Then a random thought occurs to you that you could very well still end up being a balloon precisely becauseyou’re not on birth control right now.

“What about Plan B?” Jimin lights up, literally jumping out of his chair as he suggests it. “You could get it right now. I’ll drive you. We can say we’re going to the doctor’s for an appointment or something.”

The sobering reality sets in as you sit there in silence, and Park Jimin is still looking at you, waiting for your response. Only, you don’t quite know how to respond. The rational part of you should be jumping to your feet now and making him rush you to the nearest pharmacy, but then there’s a tiny voice in the back of your head that you can’t ignore.

This would solve all your problems.

Park Jimin is still waiting for your response, growing more and more antsy as the minutes tick by.

“Do you know how many people know about this baby?” You finally say.

Those were not the words Park Jimin was expecting to hear, and he does a double take. “Wh- what? What are you talking about?”

“Approximately 265 people,” you continue on, ignoring his cautious look. “Your family, my family, the whole company, my friends, my ex-boyfriend and his new wife-“

“You counted? Why would you do that?” Jimin groans as he runs his hands through his hair. “You didn’t have to remind me of how fucked we are and how many people we have to answer to. My Granny dug out my baby clothes from some godforsaken corner in the house and gave them to me last night.”

The mention of Jimin’s Granny fills you with guilt once more, and it makes the tiny voice grow a little louder, and you try to swallow back the awful feeling.

“Exactly. So why don’t we just… leave this up to chance. Just this once.” You keep glancing at Jimin to gauge his reaction, but the blonde haired man only stares back at you with the same serious expression on his face. “Plan B wouldn’t have worked anyway. I already ovulated this month.”

“Shit,” Jimin sighs as he collapses down into a chair. “So there’s an actual chance? That you could be pregnant right now? But I… I ate you out. Maybe I got most of it out from you.”

The both of you know that Jimin is simply grasping at straws now.

You just shrug silently as Jimin takes some time to let the reality of the situation sink in. Just then, your phone buzzes and you open the text from your sister who’s asking if she can accompany you to your ultrasounds. You groan audibly, and Jimin takes a peek over at your phone screen.

“Just this once,” he says, as if he’s really considering it as he watches the messages from your sister flood your screen. “But… will you be okay? If it really does happen, I mean. Are you okay with that?”

“I mean, I hate kids and all, if that’s what you’re asking.” You lock your phone and put it face down on the desk just so you don’t have to deal with that for a hot second. “But that aside, if it’s a cute kid, I guess I don’t mind. I mean… if the kid looked like you. I guess I don’t mind.”

You don’t know why it’s taking you so long to say what you really mean. It’s not like you to beat around the bushes like this, nor is it like you to be tripping over your own words like an idiot. But the gist of it still gets through anyway, by the look on Park Jimin’s face.

“I… I guess I wouldn’t mind either. Kids are cute.” Jimin says hesitantly, eyes constantly darting away from yours. “I mean, I’mcute. Obviously my kids would be cute.”

“Um. Okay then,” you say awkwardly, getting up and skirting around him to get to the door. “I guess… um… so… I’ll let you know. If anything happens.”

Jimin gets up with a resolute look on his face as he follows you to the door. “Yeah. Sure.”

The next Monday, everyone is off work for the afternoon because it’s the quarterly Healthy Lifestyle Day, where a poll is sent out to everyone to vote for the healthy bonding activity that their team should engage in. In actual fact, the poll is a scam since bowling wins every time, all because it’s well known that Bae Joohyun’s favourite pastime is bowling.

You endure the awful scents of sweat as you squeeze into your awful rented bowling shoes, grimace as you cram your fingers into the holes on the bowling ball, try not too hard to embarrass yourself as you bowl gutter after gutter. Your back is aching, face is sweaty and you are straight up not having a good time.

Bae Joohyun, on the other hand, is nailing strike after strike in her own lane, with her team of personal cheerleaders making a huge fuss every time she finishes her round. Those are the very group of people who are aiming for a promotion that year; the rest of you are just kind of milling about the other lanes and pretending to enjoy yourself.

You finish your round and plop down on the seat with a sigh, watching as Jeon Jeongguk takes his turn after you with a flourish as he launches his ball down the alley. It’s no secret that he too loves bowling, and he’s pretty good at it too, until Seokjin, one of those vying for a promotion, had to come over and tell him to tone down lest he beat Bae Joohyun’s score.

God forbid if that should happen.

Jeon Jeongguk is trying very hard to do his worst, and it’s actually kind of hilarious because you can literally see the veins in his neck as he strains, his body tensing as he shifts his posture so that his ball rolls into the gutter. The utter disappointment on his face as he strolls back, looking as if he’s about to cry.

“Better luck next time, Jeon,” you call out, feeling a little sorry for the boy with the bunny smile since it seems as if he really does enjoy bowling.

“Yeah, better luck next time!” Kim Taehyung yells out as he takes his time choosing his ball. He holds it in front of him and glances at you with a strange look on his face that immediately warns you to be on guard. “Hey, _____...”

“Yes?” Your voice is raised in suspicion, already not loving where this is going.

“I wanted to ask you this last week, but where is your bump?” Taehyung strokes the bowling ball with a reverence that makes you want to roll your eyes. Why the fuck do you work with weirdos? Taehyung eyes the bowling ball he’s carrying before he looks at you again. “Shouldn’t you be around this far along by now?”

You glance nervously at Jimin, who is in the other lane paired up with the Parenting team, laughing and smiling with this other girl who has long wavy hair that comes down to the middle of her back. But he’s currently too occupied with making her laugh, even helping her out with her bowling posture, to help you out of this hole, so you have to deal with this one yourself.

“The doctor said it’s a small baby,” you shrug as nonchalantly as you can, secretly marvelling at your own genius. “Some people don’t show until the 8thor 9thmonth, you know. It’s perfectly normal. Every pregnancy is different.”

You even sound knowledgeable to your own ears. Taehyung looks convinced by your story, but then he decides to put the bowling ball under his shirt for some inane reason, drawing more attention to himself as your coworkers start to notice.

“Hey Park! Look, I’m your girlfriend!” Taehyung yells and you stand up in horror.

“What the fuck, are you fucking high?” You hiss at him, trying to get him to take the ball out without dropping it on his own foot. “Stop fucking around! Bae Joohyun is here!”

Her name gets him to sober up a little, though it’s already too late because Namjoon from HR is strolling over with an amused look on his face, having sat out the bowling because of his injured finger (he’s always injuring some part of his body because of his clumsiness).

“Hey _____, how’s the baby? Don’t mind if I feel the bump? Is the baby kicking yet?” He says with an excited look on his face. “My sister felt her kicks early. It was the most magical thing.”

“Uh… no, not yet,” you laugh weakly and wave his hand away. “It’s a very small baby for now, so…”

“Oh come on, I’m sure there’s been a flutter or two here and there!” Namjoon insists with his eyes bright, and Taehyung nods vigorously.

“C’mon, just let us feel the bump?” Taehyung begs with his hands clasped together, and you glance around furtively. The two of them won’t seem to stop going on and on about this baby, but if you just let them touch your stomach maybe they’ll be satisfied. It can’t hurt, it’s not like they have ultrasounds for hands.

“Fine,” you sigh as you tense your stomach a little. You don’t have the flattest stomach, but it’s certainly not as pronounced as it should be this far into pregnancy. But it’s harmless, they won’t be able to feel anything, and-

“Oh my god, I think the baby just kicked!” Namjoon exclaims with his hand on your lower abdomen, and you frown in distress. “There! Right there! I felt it! Taehyung, did you feel it too?”

Namjoon removes his hand and urges Taehyung to take his place, which the latter does without hesitation. You’re just about to protest that this touchy feely session has gone on for a tad too long, but then Taehyung’s face lights up.

“You’re right! I felt it too! Oh my god ______, your baby kicked!”

He says this last sentence with a booming voice that echoes throughout the bowling alley, and you wish the ground would just open up and swallow you whole. More and more people are turning to look at you now, including total strangers not from your company, and even Jimin and the pretty girl he’s with are turning to you.

Namjoon and Taehyung are absolutely wrecking you today. Luckily Jeon Jeongguk doesn’t seem to be in the mood to join in, seeing as he’s seated on the far end of the sofa soaking up his own misery.

Your cheeks are burning as you feel the burrito from lunch announcing its presence, but you paste on a shaky smile and add on to your credibility with a nervous laugh. “Oh wow… um, that’s the baby, y-yeah it is! The kicks have been so tiny I barely noticed!”

Namjoon is literally clapping his hands with glee. “Where’s Park? He needs to witness this moment! He’s your baby daddy!”

Taehyung glances around till he catches a glimpse of Jimin and the pretty girl with the wavy hair, and then he grimaces. “Woah, looks like you got some competition huh? Better up your game, if you know what I mean. I saw them getting pretty up close and personal just now. Park was teaching her how to hold a bowling ball. I mean, who the fuck needs to learn that?”

“She can hold my balls if she wants,” Namjoon snickers, but then his face straightens when you glare at him. “It was a joke. Sorry. Please don’t report me to HR for sexual harassment.”

Sometimes you just want to quit your job. Not because of Bae Joohyun, but because of your fucking idiotic coworkers.

“Namjoon, you areHR,” you hiss at him with barely concealed patience.

Taehyung continues as if you’d asked for advice on your sex life with your non-existent baby daddy. “A little pregnancy sex never hurt anyone.”

You can’t quite concentrate on what he’s saying as you glance over at Jimin and his new girl turning their attention back to bowling, him picking out a ball and handing it to her, their hands brushing and the girl giggling. Your attention is focused on them, how Jimin stands behind her as she gets ready to bowl, the way she bends over and practically flashes the whole alley in her short skirt.

Meanwhile, Taehyung is still going on as if you’d asked about his sexual preferences. “Some men find it hot. I, in fact, would love to knock a chick up and then keep fucking her after. Something about that primal instinct, you know?”

When the girl hits five pins, she turns to Jimin with a squeal and raises her hands for a high five. Jimin returns it with a happy grin, but then somehow the whole affair escalates into a hug, and you frown.

“Shut up, Taehyung,” you are taking out your anger on him, but this stupid punk sure as hell deserves it anyway.

Taehyung holds up two hands at your sudden burst of anger. “Woah, I was only giving suggestions. Trying to help here.”

You leave him, still fuming and wanting nothing more than to get out of these fucking uncomfortable shoes. In actual fact, you have no idea why you’re this worked up. It’s not like you and Park Jimin have this exclusive agreement together. He’s free to flirt with anyone he likes.

But really, her? With the flippy hair and obnoxious voice? And while you’re supposed to be pregnant with his baby too? He’s practically cheating on you openly!! Never mind that you aren’t actually knocked up with his kid. It’s the principle of it all.

By the time you reach the counter to exchange your token for your locker key, your expression must have evolved into something truly frightening, because the poor girl manning the counter squeaks at you in fear when you bark out your locker number at her.

When you’re done changing your shoes, you head into the washroom for a bit to splash some water on your face so that you can cool down, and also to check if your period is here, but it’s not. A few minutes later when you leave, you find Park Jimin waiting outside, still in his bowling shoes, his cheeks flushed with exertion and his hair ruffled out of place.

“Are you okay?” He asks, then clears his throat. “I mean; did anything happen? While you were in there? Did your period come?”

You feel the urge to brush past him in annoyance. The whole of last week, the two of you had avoided each other; on one hand you were completely swamped with work, but on the other hand, there is also this awkwardness in between you that hadn’t existed before that fateful night. You still hadn’t directly addressed it yet, only skirted around the topic in hems and haws.

“No it didn’t,” you say, your voice small all of a sudden. “Who’s that girl in your lane?”

“Oh, Seulgi from Divorce Support,” Jimin says. “I was just teaching her how to bowl.”

There’s another awkward silence as the two of you avoid eye contact, and then you hear Seulgi’s high pitched voice calling Jimin’s name, asking him to come back and help her score another strike. Jimin is just about to respond back to her, but then you grab his collar and pull him into the secluded space just behind the female toilets, shutting him up with your lips on his.

His protests soon turn to muffled moans against you, and his hands come to circle your waist somewhat hesitantly, but the intention alone is enough for you. Breaking apart for air, you finally get a glimpse of how sinful Park Jimin looks, and flashbacks from that night revisit you once more. Plush, swollen lips parted mid gasp, cheeks red and flushed and his eyes that can’t stop devouring you whole.

“You should be teaching mehow to bowl,” you push him up against the wall for added emphasis. “I’m the one you knocked up, not her.”

Jimin gulps nervously as he feels your body press against him, and all the blood rushing down south that will soon make itself known against your lower belly. He tries to put a little bit of space in between your bodies so that he won’t embarrass himself, but you are relentless, pressing your breasts into his chest as your hand makes its way to the front of his pants.

“Yo-you aren’t really knocked up,” Jimin tries to protest weakly as you grab a handful of him, and he hardens immediately.

“I could be,” you shoot back. Aware that you don’t have much time, you pull down the zipper on his dress pants and reach inside to grope him lewdly over his underwear. “You knocked me up with your cock right here. Came inside me and filled me up so good.”

“Shit,” Jimin is panting harshly against your neck now, his hips twitching involuntarily as he feels himself soak the front of his underwear. “Wh-what’s got into you?”

“Your cum,” you say simply, watching his eyes widen again as you sink down to your knees, pulling his underwear the rest of the way down to expose the leaking head of his cock. In your previous one-night stand (the actual one), you regrettably didn’t have a chance to admire him properly, but now you’re going to make up for it.

His cock is thick from base to tip, the head of it already red and angry. You can feel your jaw ache just with the thought of deepthroating him all the way, yet you don’t even care if it’d make Park Jimin feel good.

Pushing his cock to lie flat on his belly, you give the underside a long, salacious lick that has Jimin gasping and sobbing already. You start from the bottom again and maintain eye contact as you kitten lick your way to his head again, and then you take him whole into your warm mouth, suckling him as his hands find their way into your hair.

“We- we can’t do this, we’re at work,” Jimin pants, his actions contradictory as his hip surge forward to chase the warmth of your mouth. All it does is showcase his less than ideal willpower when it comes to you.

“What would your Granny say? If she saw you flirting with another girl while the one you knocked up watches?” You squeeze his cock hard, causing Jimin to buck his hips with a groan.

“Pl-please don’t talk about my Granny when you’re sucking my cock,” Jimin protests as he pushes your head further down on his cock.

You let him push his cock down your throat, relaxing and breathing through your nose as you take him for a few seconds. Then you pull back with a wet, sloppy sound, his cock covered in your saliva and precum that drips onto your blouse as you swallow and breathe. “We aren’t at work right now. We’re at a bowling alley.”

And then your mouth is back on his cock, bobbing up and down as you give him the suck of his life, his taste salty on your tongue. One hand wraps around his girthy base as you suck the rest of him, and the other hand comes up to play with his balls. Jimin is all curses and breathy pants above you, his thick thighs trembling with pleasure as he struggles not to lose his balance, nor his load.

“Like it when I play with your balls like this, hmmm?” You pull yourself off his cock to watch the effect your words have on him, tugging on his balls that feel tight and heavy as you jerk him off with the other hand. “When was the last time you came, Minnie?”

The pretty column of his neck is drenched with sweat as he throws his head back against the wall, cock twitching in your grasp as Jimin struggles not to cum. The nickname makes his knees go weak and his voice is lost somewhere in his chest.

When he still doesn’t answer you, you turn and sink your teeth into his fleshy inner thigh, causing him to whine sharply.

“I’m waiting for an answer, Minnie.”

“L-last week,” he gasps out. “Wi-with you.”

“Someone’s been a good boy,” you resume your strokes of his cock as you lick his balls, causing his thighs to clench in response. “Are you sure you haven’t cum since? Didn’t stroke your cock like a dirty pervert and make a mess of yourself with your cum?”

“I-I promise, I didn’t!” Jimin peers down at you in the haze of his desperation and lust, only to see his precum coating your chin, red lipstick smeared all over, but yet you’ve never looked prettier.

Satisfied with his answer, and also how fucked out he looks within such a short span of you getting your mouth on his cock, you wrap your lips around his head again as you jerk the rest of him off, still cradling his balls with your other hand.

“I’m gonna cum,” comes Jimin’s half plea, half warning.

You double your efforts at jerking him off, opening your mouth to show him the head of his cock as it rests heavy on your tongue. That’s all it takes for Jimin to lose his load, his balls pulsing under your grasp as pretty white ropes of cum shoot decorate your tongue. Jimin can’t quite keep his eyes off the way your mouth fills with his seed, and the way you swallow down every drop of him, licking and cleaning his cock as if to make sure you get all of his cum.

When you make sure he’s clean, you press a light kiss to his oversensitive head. “Just remember. I was the one who sucked your cock and swallowed your cum today. Not Seulgi.”

Jimin reaches to tuck himself back into his pants, hands shaky and thighs still trembling. When you stand up and start to walk off without another word, he reaches for your waist to pull you back into him, wanting a taste of your lips after you swallowed his cum.

It’s bitter and sweet at the same time, and Jimin’s sinful moans only make your thighs clench together harder. When you pull apart, Jimin doesn’t let go of his arms around your waist.

“You have a thing for cum?” You raise an eyebrow at him, remembering him eating you out after he came inside you the last time as well. Most guys you’d been with in the past had no problem kissing you after eating you out, but turn it the other way around and they’d be utterly disgusted.

“It’s hot,” Jimin mutters as his eyes slide away from yours.

Recognizing the telltale signs of his embarrassment, you place your thumb on his chin to stop him from looking away. “It’s hot when you do it.”

Hearing you validate him makes him visibly relax in your arms. “What are we? I don’t think we’re coworkers anymore.”

There’s a brief pause as you are aware of how intimate this is, feeling the arousal still pooling in your underwear and feeling Park Jimin’s body warm against yours. There’s something about being in his arms like this that makes the rest of the world disappear.

“No, we aren’t,” you admit. “We… we could be something more. If you want.”

It’s your turn to be nervous now and you can feel your heart racing in your chest, already anticipating for the handsome golden boy to turn you down. Why would he want to be something more with you after all, when there are so many other pretty girls in the office for him to fuck around with?

“I want to. Be something more, that is.” Jimin smiles back, a cute little shy smile that makes your heart skip a million beats.

“_____! It’s been so long since I last saw you!” Granny welcomes you with a wide grin and comforting arms as she bundles you into her embrace. “You look so pretty! Glowing, as usual. Has our Jiminnie been treating you right? Hmmmm?”

Her tone rises into a slight warning as she glares over at her grandson, who is currently struggling with both your luggage a few feet behind.

“He’s been good, Granny,” you reassure her with a relaxed smile.

Granny invited the both of you to spend the long weekend at Jimin’s childhood home in the countryside which also now serves as a sort of vacation home for the Parks. You can’t even remember the last time you had a vacation, had the chance to pull out your flowy summer dresses and really let your hair down. Though this time, there’s another reason altogether for you to wear loose and flowy clothing.

You are ushered into the house to meet the rest of Jimin’s family; his parents and his brother welcome you as if you are already part of the family. They invite you to spectate a game of Wii Tennis, and it’s then that you realise that Jimin’s family are a bunch of heathens because they don’t wear the Wii remote strap while playing.

Jimin is paired up with his father, against his mother and brother. You are more than content to watch from the sides, nestled in beside Granny who feels as soft and comforting as your own mother. Her words, not so much, as she urges the Jimin and his brother to do better, why, if she joined the game she’d beat all their asses!!!

When Jimin’s side wins, the whole family claps and cheers as his mother stands up to give his father a kiss, and when they’re done, the whole family turns expectantly to you and Jimin.

“A kiss for the winner, that’s the prize!” Jimin’s mother says with a mischievous grin on her face.

Jimin fidgets on the spot, tips of his ears growing red as he protests. “Ma…”

“Oh come on, don’t be such prudes!” Granny chides the both of you. “You already did the nasty with each other. How else did my grandchild come into this world?”

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Jimin’s brother begins to chant with a shit eating grin on his face that reminds you of a certain co-worker.

Jimin is getting more and more embarrassed trying to fend his family off, but for you, it’s no big deal. It’s not like you and Jimin haven’t said or done more lewd things to each other. In a sense, Jimin’s Granny is right. The both of you already fucked. What is one tiny little kiss?

So with that, you pull a protesting, flustered Jimin closer to you and tiptoe to reach his lips, arms around him as you kiss him deeply, putting on a show for his family. Whoops and cheers celebrate the two of you, and though Jimin is stunned for a moment, he kisses you back just as passionately, letting his tongue meet your own as he tastes you.

When the two of you part for air, Jimin’s brother lets out a loud whoop, and Granny is still clapping. But poor little Jimin is as red as a tomato, and he tugs on your hand, mumbling something about showing you his room and retiring for the night.

You are still laughing and giggling over how embarrassed he is when Jimin closes his door behind the both of you, giving you a cute pout as he crosses his arms in indignance. But he’s too cute too pass up on, and you pinch his cheeks, squishing his face.

“Was my baby Jimin embarrassed?” You coo at him in a baby voice, grin lighting up your face as it gets him even more annoyed at you. Unfortunately for Jimin, (but luckily for you) he’s just that kind of person who gets even cuter when they are angry or upset.

“I’ve never kissed a girl in front of my Granny you know,” he turns his cheek at you as he goes to sit on his bed to continue sulking. “She’s seen me in my underpants when I was a kid!”

“So? I saw you in your underpants too,” you grin lewdly at him, laughing when he throws an arm over his face and groans in embarrassment.

When he hears your laughter, Jimin peeks out from behind his arm to see your face glowing and radiant, hair loose in waves around your face and looking… happy for the first time. Not stressed or worried about work, or in tears because Bae Joohyun humiliated you.

Just happy.

“You look really pretty like this,” Jimin admits in a small, shy voice.

You stop mid laugh to look at him properly. “Like what?”

“When you’re happy,” he clarifies. “When you laugh like that.”

“It’s when you make me laugh like this,” you look down at the pattern on his bedspread, tracing along it with your fingers. “I haven’t laughed like this in a long while. But ever since you came in, I… I don’t know. Mondays haven’t been so bad for me lately.”

The two of you are shy suddenly, and Jimin feels like he’s a teenager again, confessing to his crush in his childhood bedroom. Back then he always dreamed of bringing a girl back to his house and confessing to her, maybe even making out with her behind his parents’ back, but of course back then he wasn’t nearly cool enough to do any of that.

But seeing you look so soft and pretty in your dress that dips down at your neckline, giving him a good view of your cleavage, seeing you beside him on his bed, your attention focused on him solely makes him glad that all his childhood fantasies never happened, because he feels like they’re going to be fulfilled right now.

“Can I kiss you?” Jimin asks.

“Not shy anymore?” You tease him one last time before you lean in and capture your lips with his, and then Jimin is switching positions with you so that your hair fans out over his pillow, he is on top of you in between your legs.

“I want to do it properly,” Jimin scatters kisses down your neck and chest, one hand pinching your nipple through your thin dress. “The last time was rushed. And we were drunk. And we were still co-workers back then.”

Your strap slides off your shoulder sinfully as Jimin pleases himself by worshipping your breasts, kneading them and sucking your nipple through the material.

“I- I told you… we were never co-workers. From day one,” you retaliate against his teasing by pinching his nipple through his shirt with a devious smirk on your face.

“You mean we were fucked from day one?” Jimin grins back as he takes off his shirt in one smooth motion, baring his toned chest and slim abs for your viewing pleasure. Your hands are on him immediately, stroking his firm muscles and running your fingers over every inch of his beautiful skin.

Jimin hikes up your skirt, kissing his way up your thighs till he reaches your underwear. The scent of you is driving him insane, he can already see a wet spot on your panties even though he’s barely touched you. The thought of you getting so wet for him makes him even more eager to pleasure you, so he hooks his fingers into the side of your underwear, pulling it down to expose you to his gaze.

“I still owe you from the bowling alley,” he says when you tug at his hair impatiently, wanting to see his face, kiss his lips. With that as explanation, Jimin gives your core a sloppy lick before he seals his lips to you, French kissing your pussy and making sure he gets your clit with every stroke of tongue.

Your cries and moans are music to his ears; at this point he doesn’t even care if his family hears you anymore. Pulling your dress up to your waist so that you can see in between your thighs, the sight nearly sends you over the edge as you witness Park Jimin eating your pussy like a man starved, his chin glazed with your arousal as he laps everything up. His hands are on your inner thighs, opening you up for him even though your muscles spasm from the pleasure.

“Jimin- fuck! Please,” you are already begging as he assaults your clit with his tongue, circling it relentlessly. “Want your fingers. Please.”

“Want to feel me stretch you for my cock?” Jimin gives in with one finger first, slowly inserting it into you with care until you whine and thrash under his grasp in protest. “My baby wants more? What a greedy pussy you have.”

He embellishes this with a sharp spank on your clit, and your thighs twitch again as you cry out. Jimin gives you two fingers now, and the burn feels so good as he pumps in and out, his tongue occasionally flicking at your clit. Your arousal coats his fingers and his palm messily, starting to drip down onto his sheets, but Jimin figures that the both of you are going to get a lot messier before the night ends.

As you watch Jimin pleasure you with his fingers and tongue, all traces of the shy boy who was embarrassed to kiss you in front of his family are gone. The submissive side of him that gave in to your demands so easily at the bowling alley is also gone, in its place is a gentle but firm dominant who takes charge of your pleasure, and you love that he can switch between the two.

“Cum for me, let me see my baby cum on my fingers,” Jimin coaxes you as he speeds up his fingers, curling them to try and find that one rough spot inside you. “You made such a mess already.”

You can feel the edge right there, the knot so tight in your lower belly and just ready to burst. But words escape you, and all you can do is whine Jimin’s name. In response he wraps his thick plush lips around your clit, maintaining eye contact with you as he sucks,and then you come undone, legs going boneless as your back arches, clenching hard around his fingers as you ride out your orgasm.

Jimin helps you to calm down as he withdraws from your pussy, stroking your legs gently as he admires the glow on your face, your fucked out expression as you breathe deeply. His own cock is straining against his jeans, and he is dying to feel your pussy wrapped around him.

When you finally regain your senses and open your eyes, you see the uncomfortable looking tent in Jimin’s jeans, reaching for it immediately to give him his own release. Jimin shifts his body so that his thighs can fall open, and you pull his jeans off, revealing his thick thigh muscles that you straddle as you get his cock out of his soaked boxers.

“Wait,” Jimin stops you with a hand on your waist. “We need a condom. We still don’t know if… if you’re pregnant. From last time.”

Your cheeks heat up as you swallow back the guilt. After bowling, when you went home that night, your period had come, just one day late, but you didn’t tell Jimin. Upon the sight of blood staining your underwear, there was a strange sense of disappointment that bloomed in your chest, and it confused you so much that you didn’t have the bandwidth to even think about telling Jimin what this meant. You had to take time to process both the consequence of not being pregnant, as well as the unprecedented feelings of disappointment that came with it.

“Um… actually, my period came last week.” You say after taking a deep breath.

Jimin raises an eyebrow as he takes in the news. “So it means… you’re not pregnant.”

“I’m not,” you agree with him, and you want to keep going, but the words are just stuck in your chest.

“The first time we were risking it, but I was just thinking…” Jimin picks up on your hesitation, his own words coming out slowly. “If we should… if we should start trying. For real.”

Jimin is completely serious as he returns your gaze, biting his lip in uncertainty.

“You mean… try to get pregnant? Intentionally?” You’re aware that you’re just repeating his words, but some part of you needs to confirm it.

“Yeah,” Jimin says as he strokes your waist, and you’re fully aware of his cock twitching as he says his next words. “I want to have a baby with you.”

Your breath is sucked out of your chest as the impact of his words hit you, and arousal aside, you feel your stomach fill with butterflies.

“That is… if you want to as well,” Jimin scratches the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you into anything-“

“I want to,” you interrupt him, reassuring him with a grind of your hips. “I want to have your baby. We’re about three months late, but I think if we start trying real hard now, this baby will get made and we won’t be too far behind.”

Jimin’s cock twitches again, giving away how aroused he is, but he doesn’t give a fuck anymore. Hearing you say that has awakened a fantasy in him that he didn’t even know existed. No longer is he going for the low hanging fruit of just kissing a girl in his childhood bedroom. No, he’s going to make a baby in his childhood bedroom.

You pump him with a few strokes, watching the precum bubble up from his head and run down his girthy length, admiring how hard he is for you. His length feels so heavy in your palm, and your mouth waters as you remember how much better he felt in your mouth, how salty and thick his cum was as he released down your throat.

Just as you bend down to give yourself a repeat ride, Jimin stops you with a hand on your cheek, his own cheeks rosy and embarrassment creeping back in as he says, “You’ll get a mouthful of cum if you do that. As much as I want you to swallow my cum, you’re not getting pregnant that way.”

And then he’s back in charge as he flips you over, spreading your legs wide and resting them on his shoulders as your pussy leaks your arousal. Jimin uses the head of his cock to collect all your juices, teasing your clit before he prods at your entrance. The blunt head of him nudges in slowly, and the stretch makes the both of you moan.

Your legs are trembling, hands reaching out for something to hold on to as Jimin bottoms out inside you. You don’t remember him feeling so big inside you, stretching you out so good and going so deep that you can feel him at the base of your lower abdomen. When you look down, you realise that there is a small bump there, and Jimin is watching that exact spot as well.

“Feel so good and tight, my baby was made to take my cock,” he praises as he intertwines his hands with yours, forcing them above your head as he begins to thrust. His cock slides in and out of your drenched pussy easily, and your walls grip him so tightly that Jimin never wants this moment to end.

Jimin leans forward so that your thighs are pushed to your chest, making the fit even tighter around his cock. Your pussy is already clenching around him, and your breasts are bouncing, cheeks flushed red and lips swollen and shiny from his precum and saliva.

“Harder, fuck me harder Jimin,” you groan as he punishes you with his thrusts, every slap of his thighs against yours reminds you that the both of you are fucking to make a baby. Just watching the sweat drip off his chest, his abs tense and feeling his ass flex as he fucks into your pussy with the full intention of giving you a baby, hisbaby, makes your pussy cream uncontrollably around his cock.

“Does my baby like this?” Jimin gives a harsh thrust and bends your legs back till he can feel your cervix. “Fuck, you’re driving me fucking crazy. Wanna give you a baby so bad. You’re fucking asking for it, asking to get filled with cum.”

“I want it, Jimin,” you gasp as you feel him against the entrance of your womb; Jimin is giving you no mercy as he continues to aim his thrusts deep as he can go. “Want your baby. It’s all I ever wanted.”

Jimin lets your legs fall off his shoulders as he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you into him, as his thrusts increase in power and speed. Your legs wrap around him tightly as if to keep him from pulling out, so all Jimin can do his grind the head of his cock against your cervix, feeling himself twitch as his orgasm draws near.

“I’m not gonna last, cum with me please,” he begs, mouth open and kissing your neck as he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder.

“I’m close, just a little more, fuck,” you loosen your thighs a little so that Jimin can thrust a little more, and the movement of him brushing against your clit sends you into an orgasm, clenching hard around him as you cry out his name and your walls milk him dry for every drop.

Jimin groans as he feels his balls tighten up, filling you up with cum as he thrusts to get every drop right where it should be. “Take it all, take my cum and give me a baby. That’s what my girl wants right?”

“Yes, yes!” You whine as you feel the warmth of his cum in your pussy, his frenzied thrusts as he rides out the last of his orgasm, making sure he gives you everything he has.

Jimin’s face is still buried in your neck as his hips continue to fuck his cum into you, hearing the filthy squelch as he tilts your hips up so that not a single drop can escape. The leisurely thrusts feel intimate as you hug him close to you, feeling his soft breaths against your skin as your legs wrap around his waist, feeling him finally still with his cock still deep inside you. Everything is warm and sticky, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A few minutes pass before you realise that Jimin is perfectly content to have his cock plug your pussy up with cum, and while the thought kind of turns you on, he’s heavy, and you nudge him off you with your knee. Jimin pouts as he settles beside you, still drawing you closer to him as he lifts one of your thighs to get a better look at the mess he made of you.

“It’s all coming out,” he says in a disappointed whine as his fingers scoop out the frothy white cum that spilled out of you because of his fucking, gently pushing it back into you. But he can’t resist a little taste, bringing his fingers to his lips for a second.

“Jimin! Stop stealing my baby batter,” you grab his wrist to stop him, shoving it back toward your thighs.

“That’s the least sexy word for cum I’ve ever heard,” he frowns disapprovingly at you. “Stay there, don’t move. You need to keep your hips up.”

Jimin pushes a pillow under your hips, and whilst you’re rendered immobile, he takes the chance to sneakily lap at your inner thighs, cleaning up some of the cum that he didn’t manage to push into you. You glare at him, reaching down to tug at his hair, but then-

“Stay safe, kids!” It’s his father’s voice from down the hallway.

“Why do they need to stay safe? She’s already having his kid!” You hear Granny’s voice a second later, and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “No need to stay safe, Puppy! You heard me? It’s good for the baby!”

You glare at Jimin, then push your chin toward his door, expecting him to answer his Granny.

Jimin mouths a ‘what’ at you in exasperation, his lust filled brain unable to think of a single appropriate response for this situation. Finally, he forces a cheery tone as he shouts back, “we will, Granny! Night Granny!”

Your head falls back into the pillow with a groan at how lame he is.

You’re most definitely not looking forward to breakfast tomorrow.

#bts smut #bts #bts park jimin #btsmaknaenet #bangtan bookclub #kwriterskollection #bts jimin smut

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alottanothing · 4 years ago

Text

Left to Ruin: Chapter Fourteen

Summary: Ahkmemrah prepares for his marriage to Nouke. A week after sending his brother to the cells, the pharaoh’s guilt sees him visiting Kah in search of salvation.

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 2715

Warnings: just some good ole angst

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe, @r-ahh-mi, @theultraviolencefan, @hah0106, @rami-malek-trash, @diasimar, @sherlollydramoine, @flipper-kisses, @ivy-miranda-2390, @txmel, @sunkissedmikky, @concentratedsassandcandy, @babyalienfairy, @edteche2 (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: This is one of the shortest chapters of this whole story, maybe the shortest. However, I feel like there’s still a great deal of importance to the scenes, especially the ones between Kah and Ahk. Also, thanks for all the love last chapter! The comments, and tags and like and reblogs are like candy to me! 🍬 ☺️Again, as a disclaimer, I am not an ancient Egyptian expert and google only knows so much. So yeah, I took so historical liberties while writing this to make my life easier, but tried to keep it as “authentic” as possible.

Over the course of several days, the pharaoh's daily routine was exceedingly more arduous than the one he was accustomed to. Those long hours were a blur of official greetings and ostentatious dinners meant to welcome the important dignitaries who had traveled from afar to partake in the union of their king and soon to be queen. Merenkahre insisted on a week to properly allow all the guest to make their journeys and get settled; then on the seventh day, all of Waset would honor their new queen.

Truthfully, when his father asked for a week's time to prepare for a grand festival, Ahkmenrah agreed readily, entirely too wrapped up in the notion of marrying Nouke to realize how long seven days would actually be. Those days moved so sluggishly. A week was absolutely too long to be away from her, but duty often eclipsed what his heart desired.

However, duty also lent him distraction from his yearning heart. Families began arriving two days after the pharaoh proclaimed his desire to wed the servant girl Anuksumn. Boats lined the shores of the Nile, crowding the market harbor as families—along with their entourage—made their way to the palace with enough fan fair to rival that of the pharaohs.’ Despite their raw pomposity, Ahkmenrah showered them each with unyielding kindness as he welcomed them to stay in his home—as was expected of a king.

The ruse of playing host grew old after only one evening of official dinners and introductions; proving to be all work and no play. The stories his guests told during their feasts lacked zeal. Mostly, everyone spoke of their own accomplishments and their supposed generosity to the cities they governed. A few guests were genuine—able to steer topics away from themselves. Apart from those cherished few, every man, woman and even child invited to celebrate the impending nuptials held themselves above all others. And while no one dared to speak outwardly with such hubris, Ahk could read each of them as clearly as the hieroglyphs scribed onto the walls.

Somehow, he mustered a smile and played his role perfectly all the while wishing to be miles from the noise of the palace, tangled together with Nouke under the stars.

After the second evening of myriad stories of uninspiring nature during dinner, Ahkmenrah snuck beyond the walls of his royal sanctuary and returned to Nouke’s farm with news he’d promised to bring.

“It is all very official and exhausting,” Ahk tutted with a mild scowl. Just thinking about what awaited him at the palace bled into the serenity of laying with Nouke in his arms, nestled among the cushions, their garments left in a forgotten heap nearby.

“Trust that I cannot wait to bring you home once and for all. However, I am also not ready to share you yet.” He smoothed the hair away from her face as she looked at him from where she laid on his chest. “I want to enjoy having you all to myself a while longer.”

Nouke smirked and kissed him softly.

“Mmm, I’ve never thought of you as a greedy man…” she teased as she traced the outline of his lips with her fingertips.

Ahk grinned and kissed the pad of each rough digit before speaking, “You will find that I am exceptionally greedy when it comes to you. I want you to be only mine, now and forever.”

“Now and forever,” she agreed with a breathy murmur.

Her eyes stayed fixated on his until she drew him into an affirming kiss that built lazily in a slow, sensuous expression of worship before passion swept them away for a second time.

What she gave, he took—her name a low hum tumbling from his lips. What he gave, she took—holding him close enough for their hearts to beat in perfect synchronization. They made love in a symphony of wanton expressions whispered into the night air with breathless praise until they reached that glorious peak together. And when morning came with the harsh break of day—golden light pulling them from the depths of their slumber—it was too soon.

He left his bride to be with a kiss and the promise it would only be a few more days until they could spend their lives together.

It was that night he’d spent tangled with the woman he loved—his best friend—that Ahkmenrah held in his mind the days that followed. He clung to images of Nouke like a valuable life source; granting him the energy to masquerade through every dinner and introduction that remained.

***

“I have made the arrangements for you to collect your bride tomorrow at mid-day,” Merenkahre said from his usual seat at the council table.

Ahkmenrah blinked out of his thoughts, suppressing a yawn, doing his best to fend off his exhaustion a while longer, and grinned.

“After which,” his father continued. “You and your desired bride will be wedded with an audience of your advisors and guests of your choosing. Festivities will then commence before twilight.”

The pharaoh's sudden influx of enthusiasm was difficult to keep from his features when he nodded, not wanting his excitement to mar his kingly composure.

“Perfect,” he said.

Idly, his eyes skirted around the table, mentally noting which of his advisors he wanted in attendance until his sweeping glance stopped on the empty chair reserved for the Consul of Montu. A pang of guilt bit into Ahkmenrah with enough potency to taint both his enthusiasm and his resolve the longer he stared at the barren spot.

The presence of the vacant seat was suddenly crushing with guilt, and a frown fought to twist onto his features. Almost a week had passed since banishing Kahmunrah to the cells with only his name and no titles. And not one of those days went by without Ahkmenrah brooding over the punishment he’d bestowed upon his brother.

Even with ample distractions at hand, his mind could not surrender how they parted. The scene in his memory stirred a sense of betrayal—his betrayal to Kahmunrah. Ahkmenrah never wanted to be a ruler who dealt with his problems by burying them in a cell to be forgotten. Or worse yet, a king who executed and silenced his problems. How Kah would have preferred I run things.

The council meeting finished quickly when the pharaoh could find no other topics to discuss suddenly too laden with grief to proceed effectively. With the men gone, the walls of the council chamber became a meditative space for him to ponder.

The day that would follow was to be one of the happiest of his life, and yet, Ahk felt that joy abruptly strangled; his guilt and the anger he held on to, like beasts he needed to slay.

The fury in his soul for what had been done to Nouke and Setshepsut remained deep and unsated, tormenting Ahkmenrah with unease. Wrath could devour a good man if it was left to fester. Already the infection was spreading. Ahk’s torrid heart wanted Kahmunrah to know punishment for the things he’d done, and still, the pharaoh’s mind screamed and begged for him to let the past be covered in sand—forgotten.

With right and wrong poised so precariously in his head; he wasn’t sure which side of the scale to leap onto.

Minutes passed, the oversaturated colors of sunset vanquished by the black of night when Ahkmenrah finally relinquished a slow, weighted breath. He rubbed his temples hoping the added pressure would deter the ache beginning to swell in his skull as his frenzying thoughts became too much to fathom.

Letting go of his anger and forgiving his brother was the only way to ensure growth could come from all that transpired. Holding onto resentment would only permit stagnation. Ahkmenrah had no choice but to face his brother.

***

Of all the buildings located on the palace grounds, the cellblock was not constructed with intricate detail or grandeur of any kind. The stone structure was far from the central palace, a narrow edifice with almost no windows and lit mostly by mounted torches along the length of the corridor. It had been years since the pharaoh found himself in the dismal confines of the cellblock. He’d visited last with his father during one of his lessons, and Ahkmenrah liked those walls even less now than he did then.

The sting of guilt surfaced again as he took in the bleak accommodation once more. How could I have condemned my brother to live in such squaller?

The man on guard, stationed just outside the doorway, greeted the pharaoh with a shocked expression and hasty bow.

“My king!” The man did his best to chase away his shock, but his confusion was still obvious in the glow of the torch he held. “What business brings his majesty here?”

“My brother,” Ahk stated cooly. “I wish to speak to him.”

The man nodded and directed him to which of the long line of cells housed his brother.

Ahkmenrah counted his steps as he went, focusing on the numbers to distract himself from the dismal interior and the shame it all provoked. In the darkness, his brother was only a silhouette, perched on the back half-wall of his cell, and Ahk could feel the tendrils of Kah’s bitterness reaching vengefully through the bars.

“And so, the mighty pharaoh descends from on high to look upon the lowly and condemned.” Kahmunrah’s voice was cold, dripping with resentment. “What do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Surely my sentencing is not through already.”

The urge to recant a snide comment—to fight fire with fire—swelled on the tip of Ahkmenrah’s tongue, but he swallowed it. He refused to let any word passed his lips without having thoroughly thought it over first.

“Or have you come to gloat?” Kah gibed when Ahk struggled to piece a rational sentence together. “I overheard the guards talking about your impending nuptials to that servant girl I exiled. Congratulations."

A frown worked onto the pharaoh’s face taking note of the unabashed hate in his brother’s tone—a knife in his belly.

“It pains me you think I would come and rub my good fortune in your face. Have you ever known me to be so arrogant?”

Kahmunrah stood and moved into the singular beam of torchlight flickering through the bars of his cell. Without his usual golden raiment and accessories, Ahkmenrah had difficulty recognizing the man before him. His threadbare garments were a stark contrast to gold and gems, and they caused another wave of guilt to beat against Ahk.

“No,” Kahmunrah finally responded, looking as though the truth was akin to poison on his tongue. “You are the golden son—kind and humble.”

Kah spat at his brother’s feet, “Weak. You are weak for a king.”

Ahkmenrah closed his eyes and let out a long meditative exhale to carry away the influx of anger. Venom soaked words would only kindle the flame of hate. Not acting on impulse was an arduous task, but Ahk had come to purge the contempt out of his system as calmly as he could.

“If you are attempting to provoke me, brother; I am sorry to disappoint you.”

Kah’s lips curled into a sneer, “Just as I said, weak.”

Ahk shook his head with disbelief, “Is it not tiring to hold onto all of that anger?”

The pharaoh’s own wrath was exhausting to carry day to day. How Kahmunrah managed to live all of his life in a perpetual state of ire was a feat to be admired, or respected at least.

“My anger is all I have thanks to you.”

Something cold and abject worked through Ahk with a chill. The truth of his brother’s words biting into him with such force, Ahkmenrah’s sure footing faltered and he leaned against the stone wall behind him for aid.

“Yes,” the pharaoh husked out. Even his whisper echoed eerily in the long corridor to haunt him.

It took him a minute or two to find his strength again, incrementally able to hold himself with the sturdy wall to brace against. Ahk’s focus was on his brother, looming threateningly just past the bars of his cage. Ahkmenrah found he could not look into his eyes—his guilt beginning to swallow him completely.

“I did not want this for you, my brother. Do you not know that? I gain no pleasure from seeing you like this. In fact, I have felt nothing but guilt for days.”

“Good.”

Ahkmenrah sighed and swallowed the lump in the back of his throat, and willed himself to meet Kahmunrah’s glower.

“I’m sorry..." Ahk said. “I am sorry you were denied what you thought was rightfully yours. I’m sorry for what I have done to you.”

He paused long enough to blink away the tears beginning to brim his eyes before he continued. “But…you left me with little choice. And for that too, I am sorry.”

Kahmunrah’s black eyes never turned away, nor did his expression of cold hatred ebb. It was staggering to see such emptiness behind living eyes, and their piercing leer did little to allay the lingering guilt. Still, Ahkmenrah continued.

“Do you want to know what else?" he sighed. “I forgive you…I must.”

Slowly, the heavy veil of the pharaoh’s anger started to slip away. The gravity of his words would be lost on Kahmunrah, but the salvation Ahk felt releasing years of tension almost made up for his brother’s apathy.

“I do not want to live my life as you have: harboring grudges and wishing ill upon others. And it is my hope, one day, you could do the same. I want that for you.”

Ahkmenrah half shrugged and his eyes dropped their focus to the shadowed void behind Kah as he considered his brother’s previous observation.

“Maybe that does make me weak…” The pharaoh’s voice faded as the remaining pieces of his anger crumbled and drifted away.

All at once, his mind was overrun with a thousand thoughts that made the ache in his head begin to pulse again. The silence that filled the narrow cell block was sullen and heavy, but Ahk used it to sift through the teeming thoughts in his head quietly.

Kahmunrah sulked back to the shadows of his cell, this time sitting on the ground, his back propped against the wall. Ahk sagged against the wall behind him as well, folding under the weight of his thoughts until he sat, mirroring his brother.

“I want so much for us to be brothers…” Ahk confessed softly.

A single, mirthless chuckle cracked Kah’s silence.

“Well,” he stated in a low voice, devoid of sympathy. “Take a lesson from someone who knows all about disappointment, little brother. And learn that we do not always get what we want.”

A sad smile ghosted over Ahk’s lips as a solitary tear spilled down his cheek. It was foolish to hope his brother would ever change, but Ahkmenrah would never give up.

With a deep breath to build his strength, Ahkmenrah stood feeling, more or less, lighter. All the poison was at last purged from his system, but a hint of disappointment remained as he realized how ruthlessly his brother continued to cling to the bitterness inside.

Sleep beckoned the pharaoh with a yawn, the promise of rest alluring for his frenzied mind. However, one thought dug its hooks too deep in the forefront of his mind to go without seeking an answer. The question alone made Ahk’s stomach churn, but he was much too exhausted to fight his curiosity.

“I dread thinking you may have had a hand in what happened all those years ago regarding the disappearance of my tablet. Framing Nouke’s family to be rid of them—to hurt me.”

He paused, feeling his stomach slosh again, “The assassin even….”

That night flashed so vividly in his mind; the man over him with a knife drawn ready to take his life. Ready to kill a boy of fifteen who’d known no enemies apart from one... Ahkmenrah glanced into the black of Kahmunrah’s cage. No response came from its depths, the deafening stillness causing a chill to prickle over the pharaoh’s skin. And as he left, Ahkmenrah could not decide if Kahmunrah’s silence filled him with more confirmation or fear.

Next Chapter-> Chapter Fifteen: Together Again

#Ahkmenrah #Ahkmenrah x Original Character #Ahkmenrah Fanfiction #Night at the Museum #NATM #NATM Fanfiction #Left to Ruin #Rami Malek Character #Rami Malek Character Fanfiction #Rami Malek Fanfiction #Rami Malek

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serararku · 4 years ago

Text

Dust to Dust

The magic and allure of seeing dragons had long vanished. The entire trip to Ishgard was spent fantasizing about the great scaled beasts, soaring low over the earth while they belched fire and fury. She wanted to bring back the head of a slain dragon she felled herself, and perhaps a pack filled with its scales; mount that skull on the wall in her apartment, and bedazzle R’zevi with her fancy dragonscale cloak. Now, S’era would be a happy woman if she never saw another flying lizard ever again.

Maybe if she was lucky she could find a handful of scales on the bridge and make a cute necklace.

Worst still, Ishgardian Index was… smaller than S'era expected. She's heard tales of great labyrinthine libraries stuffed to the brim with forbidden and long forgotten knowledge, rows upon rows of aisles housing countless books, grimoires, and tomes, and terrifying guardians that would make short work of any intruders foolish enough to tempt fate with their damnable curiosity. Yet when she arrived at the Index, it was no more than one curved hallway and maybe half a dozen rooms; still, with her reading level, this alone would take her a lifetime to peruse. The Barghest would return to Ishgard to pick her up in just over a week, and frankly she had neither the time nor the desire to sit here and practice reading for much longer than that; she had a purpose to fulfill, questions that needed answers, and a Tia waiting for her return. Thankfully she had a way to narrow down her search to better accommodate her time frame.

S’era was nodding off in front of her recent book on Ishgard history. Thanks to the lessons of R’zevi and Pherond she was able to actually read the words, which in itself was exciting, but these books were insufferably boring. Page after page of fighting the Dravanian Horde, recuperating after their retreat, storing up supplies for the next attack decades later, and one again, fighting the Dravanian Horde; if it were up to S’era, she would have packed up and abandoned Ishgard after the first attack.

Scraaatch… scraaatch… scraaatch…

Her ears perked up to the faint sound of something scraping against wood. She followed the sound to the adjacent wall, where all the books of the Ishgardian Index gathered dust. When her gaze drifted to the fourth shelf, the peculiar scratching stopped. “Rats?” S’era thought, perking a brow. “Would Ishgard even have rats?” Just as she returned to perusing this dreadfully dull book, the scratching returned- with a vengeance.

That terrible noise scraped behind almost every book and on every shelf, traveling up and down the curved hallway until it was almost deafening. “Huh?!” The Samurai slowly rose to her feet once the books began to tremble and fall out onto the floor, and her heart skipped a beat at the rhythmic mumbling coming from the walls.

"Shol uun. Veshe uun. Saal aneem-othola uun."

The shelves burst open with a piercing shriek- black talons and scaled fingers ripped through the wreckage and pulled the wall apart! Red twinkling lights flickered in the dark before the faces emerged into the light, the dragonkin snouts and malformed Elezen heads grimacing and gnashing their snaggled jaws! "NO! AAAH! AAAAAGH!" S'era stumbled back out of her chair, but the monster's outstretched hands caught both arms and pulled her toward its many hungry mouths. The largest dragon head opened wide as a tormented Elezen face shouted with a bone-chilling voice.

"MAKE US WHOLE!"

"BWAH-!" S'era snapped up from her nightmare and nearly jumped out of her skin. Frantically she looked around for any sign of that aberration, but there was none; only the pool of drool soaking into the wooden table, and the array of books she had combed through caught her attention. That, and the Librarian.

"I'm sorry to disturb your nap." The Elezen gave her an apologetic and empathetic smile. "This is all I could find to help your research. There are no books on this artifact you described. However, the late Alfont Vauvois mentions a gold disc in his journal here."

“Late?” S’era asked, running her hands along her bristling tail under the table. “What happened to him?”

The woman set the weathered leather bound journal beside her, before calmly saying, “He went to investigate Bleakpoint Village about a month ago. Since he hasn’t returned, we have to assume the worst.”

The Samurai swallowed dryly as the Librarian walked off. “If he left for Bleakpoint before us…” She thought, grinding her teeth together while she plucked the journal off the table. “Was he a thrall in robes? Did we kill him? Was he one of those fused to that monster?!” Thinking about it only made her skin crawl; she could speculate all week if she wanted to, but the only way to know for sure is to return to that demented village. That wasn’t going to happen.

Instead, she slowly opened the journal and quickly skimmed the pages. Most of it was unreadable- sloppy handwriting, smeared words, and more than a few stains- hopefully from coffee. It was only the last few pages that truly piqued her interest.

I- -ust as I feare-. A c-lt devo-t in wyrm wo--hip resides in the --- If my calculati--- are correct there is - signifi--nt aether shift s---where in the snowy hills. These ---lots must be plannin- someth--g huge. I must ---d out -hat th--’re up -- before it’s -oo lat-!

S’era gulped dryly again, vividly recalling what those freaks had conjured from the depths of hell. She slowly turned the page and continued reading.

The Dragons--g War is finally over! This was supposed to be a time for c---bration! But cultists managed to sn--k in durin- the Dravanian Horde’s final --sault on Ishgard to steal the remains of Halault?! What else did Ar--bishop Thordan VI- keep secret from his --ople?! If w--- gets out that a ---ter necromancer’s corpse is back in the clut--es of his f--lowers…

No. I can’t let this stand. I will not let another tragedy befall my kin after a millennium of suffering! Someone h-- to do s-meth--g!

The Samurai looked over her shoulder at the random passersby and their quiet conversations; could any of them secretly be a cultist? Her paranoia crept up her spine and made every hair on her neck stand. She didn't want to draw any suspicion by constantly looking around, so S'era instead kept her ears pointed to the open area behind her.

Several pages were completely unreadable, like someone came in and smeared something to destroy the ink. Yet they didn't account for a Miqo'te to use her heightened sense of sight to bypass their schemes; why they didn't just tear out the pages or burn the whole journal altogether was another mystery for another time.

Bl--kpoint! Hidden in plain sight! With a hand--- of seasoned adventurers at -- side I'm conf-dent we can --d this horror before it be---s! Must use discretion. Must r-turn ---ault's corpse to the pit it belongs. I w--l --way- lov- --- Amette. -f I d-n't -ake it ba-- I-

The message suddenly cut off from a brown stain, but when S'era reached the last page, her heart dropped into her stomach.

Blessed blood! Blessed flesh! Drink and feast for thou art blessed! Blessed blood! Blessed flesh! Drink and feast for thou art blessed! Blessed blood! Blessed flesh! Drink and feast for thou art blessed!

S’era slammed the journal closed and shot up from her seat. “Oh gods- that’s what they were chanting…!” She whispered with the slightest breath. “They were going to…?!”

“Is everything alright?” The Librarian asked, reappearing on the other end of the hallway. The Samurai managed to stifle her shock at her sudden return, but only barely; a part of her wondered if this Elezen was a cultist too.

“Y-yeah… but this journal doesn’t mention anything about a golden disc…”

“Ah, I think I have something to remedy that.” She gave S’era the most disconcerting smile she had ever received, turned on her heel, and disappeared into the darkness behind the door. Now S’era was certain something fishy was going on around here.

“It’s time to get the HELLS out of this place!” Her conscience tugged on her tail and hastened her steps. S’era didn’t even bother putting the books back where she found them- all she feared now was the Librarian returning with a handful of ‘helpers’ to escort her to a grisly end. Staying in Ishgard alone was a terrible mistake- and now she was too paranoid to be of any use to the Ashen Wolves.

Her only choice was clear- continue her research away from potential harm, somewhere she would feel much safer. Preferably surrounded by people that would protect her whilst she slept.

---

Brief mention: @rzevi-tia-ffxiv

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xxkellsvixen19xx · 5 years ago

Text

Every Rose Has It’s Thorn Pt 11

When my eyes fluttered open, I felt as if I were flying; weightless. But that feeling vanished amidst the searing pain that held my chest tight in its grasp. My lungs fought for oxygen but struggled with every breath, it was as if my skin had been spread so tight it was constricting each and every movement.

“Hush now, Y/N.” Dr. List’s face appeared above me, blurred and almost unrecognisable aside from the dark expression in his eyes. “It is time for you to rest, we have upgraded you slightly so that you will be more comfortable. Think of it as a reward for your survival.”

“What have you done to me?” I slurred; my mouth was dry – my lips clagging together with each word.

“Shush.” His hand moved to stroke my hair back from my sweat covered face, “sleep now, we will have ample time to talk once you are recovered.”

Recovered. The word bounced around my head for weeks as I lay in the bed they had put me in. My chains had been replaced by three iron bands; one around each wrist and one thicker band wrapped around my throat. I presumed they were intended to stop me from using my powers and perhaps give a false sense of freedom in the process. I was weak, probably still too weak to move from the bed. My chest was tightly bandaged, which explained why I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath but most noticeably was the heat radiating beneath my skin – I felt alive. It was as if every nerve in my body had spent all of the years of my life asleep but suddenly a surge of electricity had brought them to life. Even the slightest touch of the bedsheets beneath my fingertips was enough to erupt a shock of buzzing and excitement.

Against my better judgement, I swung my legs slowly to the side of the bed. My muscles ached and the limbs seemed far too heavy to be my own. The bruises I’d acquired throughout my time here were beginning to fade though; I allowed my fingertips to trace the remnants of the light purple splotches on my thighs – partially checking I could still feel my own skin. My bare feet came into contact with the cool floor and I tested my ability to move by flexing my toes and tensing my calf muscles. I was certainly still weak but I could feel an air of strength residing in my muscles that hadn’t been there before – or at least I didn’t think it had been there. I’d been trapped in this useless, iron-clad body for what felt like years…I’d grown used to feeling powerless but this felt different. I felt different. I pushed up off the bed and into a standing position, my legs trembling with the strain but still, I forced myself to remain upright. I cautiously moved one foot in front of the other, managing to take five steps before my knees buckled and I came crashing to the floor.

I rolled over onto my back and stared up at the blank ceiling and fluorescent lights – blinking back newly formed tears as I tried to remember anything that could tell me what Dr. List had done to me to make me feel like this. I could remember the lab with the observatory…the cold water as they hosed me down. I remembered being naked, terrified, humiliated. I could definitely remember the pain as that pale blue hue and high pitched screech had consumed the room.

As I recalled everything that had happened to me whilst I had been held here, I could feel something mounting at the tips of my fingertips – the searing heat of my powers as they fought their way to the surface. I had no idea what Dr. List had done to me…but whatever it was, I was beginning to wonder if it would work in my favour. My mind drifted back to being held hostage by Colson, the iron chains he had wrapped around my ankle. I thought back to the last time I had seen him; I had asked him to tell everyone I was dead. A part of me wanted to believe he wouldn’t do that, but I knew better than to put trust in the God of Mischief. After finding out that Slim had lied to me all those years, there was a strong possibility no one was coming to rescue me from wherever I was. I would have to do this myself.

I focused all of my energy into the iron; I pictured it in the forefront of my mind as it split apart, freeing my wrists and neck with little effort. In reality, however, the bands remained solidly attached to me. I pushed harder and harder, garnering as much of that bitter fire I’d spent so many years trying to shove down. I thought about Loki.

My skin started to burn hotter and I gritted my teeth against the pain, the smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from gagging. Without even noticing, I had clambered to my feet – my fists held tightly at my sides as the muscles tensed in my arms to the point I thought I might break something. My lungs filled with air and I released the most gut-wrenching scream I could muster from the pits of my stomach. The walls of the room shook as the chains, one by one, cracked and fell to the tiled ground. There was no time to take a minute to concentrate on what I had just done – instead, I moved to the large metal door across the room and held my hands out in front of me. A burst of energy pulsed from my hands, powerful enough to knock the door off its hinges and send me a few feet backward until I landed on my back.

“Well, apparently that worked,” I groaned as I pulled myself up from the floor and ran through the opening. The hallway was stark white and I had no idea which direction I was supposed to head in but my legs carried me forward as my jumbled brain tried it’s best to keep up. An alarm sounded above me and I grew distracted by the lights now flashing up a height. They knew I was out. With great difficulty I threw myself into a run, moving down what seemed like a never-ending hallway until I reached another door. I burst it open just as I had done moments earlier, only to come face to face with three guards armed with their own weapons.

*****************************************

Slim burst through the doors of the lab, his hands trembling as he met the waiting gaze of the Avengers.

“What have you found?” He demanded, taking a stance at the end of the table.

“A massive change in the level of psionic energy here.” Baze moved a map over to Slim and pointed a finger to the exact location.

“How big are you talking?” Slim asked, his eyebrow raised in urgent curiosity.

“Enough to wipe out a so-called abandoned army base,” Baze replied. “Which this is, by the way.”

“Are we sure it’s her?” Slim added.

Baze rolled his eyes, “Well it’s either this or nothing.”

“Let's go,” Slim clarified, turning on his heal.

“Wait,” Ashleigh interrupted, causing Fury to spin back to face her.

“If you hadn’t already gathered, this is sort of urgent so if we could save the questions for the journey that would be ideal.” Slim’s tone was more irritated than usual but that didn’t stop Ashleigh.

“As much as this pains me to say, given the recent revelations about their relationship…I think we should take Colson.” Ashleigh’s statement was met with an abundance of confused stares, but Rook quickly stepped forward.

“I believe she is right,” Rook bellowed. “For some peculiar reason, Y/N trusts my brother.”

“Absolutely not,” Slim yelled, “the last thing I want is for that asshole to make another run for it.”

“Y/N’s been held for months, Nick. Who knows what her state of mind is like…I don’t think we have another option here,” Ashleigh argued, her arms folded firmly across her chest.

“I give you my word, he will not escape,” Rook added with as much sincerity as he could muster given his uncertainty.

Slim ran the palm of his hand down his face, holding still for a few moments as he considered their argument.

“I’d just like to step in here and say I’m still not convinced of the whole Y/N, Colson thing…but if it means getting her out safe, I’m up for keeping reindeer games shackled en route.” Slim shrugged.

“Goddamn it,” he cursed as he left the room, throwing his arms up in the air.

“I’m taking that as an ok,” Baze confirmed, glancing towards the others.

*****************************************

My arms lifted to shield myself as the glass shattered. I’d found the lab but something was telling me this was the first room in this entire house of horrors. I recognised the observatory and the peculiar machinery despite my foggy memory. I found a trolley and crouched down behind it as the sound of the guard’s footsteps grew closer.

They burst through the door, the crimson light from their guns cutting through the darkness in the room. My heart was fighting against my bandaged chest and I couldn’t for the life of me catch my breath but I did my best to stay silent as I watched them search the lab. I concentrated on one of the chairs in the observatory, my eyes pulsing from the effort, erupting a sharp pain inside my skull. The chair clattered to the floor and every one of the guards pointed their weapon towards the noise.

“Go, go, go,” One of them ordered as they swiftly made their way up the twisted stairs to the observatory. I took this as my chance and made my way towards the door, trying to stay crouched down as I pulled it open and slipped out into another hallway. It was darker this time and my eyes were struggling to focus. Within seconds, the lights flickered on and I found myself inside what looked like a basement. It had brick walls and smelled like damp; there was a dripping coming from the far corner…but it was what was in front of me that sent shivers down my spine.

“Oh Y/N,” Dr. List tutted, feigning disappointment. I sensed the agents behind me without having to look over my shoulder. Their guns rattled against their uniform as they aimed at my back.

“It appears we’ve come to a sort of, stalemate,” He continued, walking closer to me.

“What did you do to me?” I asked, my wrists and neck aching where the iron constraints had been.

“We opened you up,” Dr. List mused, holding his hands out in front of him as his eyes moved over every inch of me. “Look at you, you’re perfect.”

I frowned, trying to take in his words but I was still completely confused as to why me managing to escape my cell was perfect to him.

“So this was it? Your great plan was to make me more powerful and what? I would be so grateful that I would immediately just, do your bidding?” I began to grow very aware of the agents behind me as they pressed their weapons into my back and neck – ready to assassinate me at any given moment.

“Something like that, yes,” Dr. List replied with a shrug. “You’ve never really had a family, Y/N. Now you have been reborn, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone looking after you? Caring for your wellbeing? After all, we have all done our very best to bring you to the peak of your abilities.” His voice was so smooth and calm, but there was a tremor of anxiety wavering in the background. He’d never expected me to escape the cell, never expected me to get this close to him.

“You’re offering me what? A father?” I laughed through bitter tears and no matter how hard I tried to sound confident and dangerous…I was still terrified.

“Well I did create you, did I not?” He mused.

I shook my head, resulting in the guns behind me being pushed harder against my spine. “You didn’t create me.” I swallowed, glancing briefly at the ground as my brow furrowed.

“I orchestrated your rebirth, Y/N,” Dr. List clarified with a smile, taking a further step towards me.

“This isn’t my rebirth.” My voice was steadier now, despite the threat of instant death standing behind me. “This is my awakening…and I don’t need a father for that.”

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #colson baker x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker #fan fiction

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isidar-mithrim · 4 years ago

Text

Letters from Hogwarts – Gus

For more than a thousand years, every summer, in the United Kingdom, the lives of a lucky cluster of eleven years old are radically changed.

These are the stories of four of them.

The first was that of a boy who lived for too long in the belief that he wasn’t a wizard, the second is that of a boy who lived for too long under the illusion of being one.

{Second installment of the “Letter from Hogwarts” series, but it stands alone}

{For this fic I have to thank immensely Hilda, Mah and @sazzy-hp-dw for their help and betaing! <3}</p>

{‘Letters from Hogwarts’ on tumblr: Neville, Remus and Hermione; on Ao3: Neville, Gus, Remus and Hermione}

__________________________________

Of missives, felines, and promises

He was chewing a delicious hazelnut biscuit when a decrepit owl glided uncertainly into their kitchen, landing with a thud right in front of him and making the milk wobble inside his mug.

Gus felt a surge of blissful joy and amazing relief, and with a thundering heart he hastily freed the thick envelope from the owl’s leg.

The owl took advantage of his distraction and pecked at his abandoned biscuit. In different circumstances Gus would have felt resentful, but this time the yearning to read the letter was too strong for him to be annoyed.

He opened it with trembling hands, cracking the wax seal without even looking at it, and with religious respect he took out the parchment covered in orange ink.

Chudley Cannons

Summer Camp for young beginners.

Your broom keeps unsaddling you, but you dream of becoming the Captain of your House Quidditch team?

You’ve never spotted a Snitch, but you want to break the record for the fastest catch?

You failed any attempt to get the Quaffle through the two hoops, forgetting that there was a third?

You are an excellent Beater, but your teammates keep losing teeth?

Then you’ve picked the right course for you! Fly with us and become a Champion!

Shooting Stars are supplied.

Detailed information about costs, schedules and locations of the course overleaf.

Gus put down the sheet of parchment and didn’t even bother to turn it over, a bitter taste in his mouth replacing the thrill of joy he had felt mere moments ago.

After the umpteenth humiliation suffered on the Quidditch pitch, his mother had suggested that he enroll for that stupid course promoted on the radio. I’m sure your broom will start listening to you, after a bit of practise, she had said.

He had dwelled on it for a while, but then she added a promise too sweet to be ignored. You’ll shine, at Hogwarts.

He had been full of optimism and good intentions when he sent the letter, and yet he couldn’t find the will to be happy with the news, his mind wandering towards fresh memories that stung more than he was willing to admit.

“Look! My Hogwarts letter!” Kresten had shouted ecstatically a week ago, running towards them and waving it with pride. They had spent the whole afternoon dreaming of their future Houses and wondering about wand woods and cores, betting on how many they would have to try before finding the right one.

The morning after, it had been Gus’ cousin Alan and their friend Jacob to celebrate, and then it had been Horatio’s turn.

“What about your letter?” Kresten had asked the following day, and Gus still wondered if he had only imagined the malice in his voice.

“Mum says it’ll arrive soon,” he had lied, his tone challenging in the hope of concealing the insidious anguish that had been creeping inside him more and more every day that went by without a letter.

“When will it arrive?” he had asked at dinner the day before.

“Soon, sweetheart.” His mother had given him a strained smile, before lowering her gaze to her plate.

Too caught up in the past, Gus was startled when his mum stormed into the kitchen.

“I’m warning you, you won’t go out until you’ve tidied up…”

She trailed off, her wide eyes fixed on the letter in front of him.

“Merlin… it arrived…” she murmured, as her bewilderment slowly morphed into amazement. “It arrived!”

She rushed towards Gus to squeeze him into a crushing hug.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so proud of you! You’ll see, they’ll be able to teach you the most incredible magic, at Hogwarts!”

Gus tensed at her excited words, but she didn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with kissing his head and saying stupid, unwelcome things.

When she finally let him go, he glared at her, hoping this time she wouldn’t miss his gloomy frustration.

“It’s not my Hogwarts letter,” he hissed against the lump in his throat.

His mum froze, her eyebrows pursed in a confused frown. “What do you mean, it’s not?”

“It means it’s not!” yelled Gus with mounting rage. “It’s only,” he said, clenching the letter in his fist, “that sodding,” – he crumpled the hated parchment with his fingers – “Quidditch course,” – he crushed it between is hands – “you wanted me to join!” he shouted, throwing the paper ball in her face with forceful contempt, before running into his bedroom and slamming the door with all his might.

He was sulking on his bed when his mother knocked gently.

“Go away!” yelled Gus, but she ignored his protest.

He turned onto his side to face the wall, kicking it in frustration, and heard her light steps getting closer. He curled up in defense, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered.

He felt the mattress sagging when his mother sat down beside him, her side brushing his back, her fingers softly caressing his hair. He jerked his head away, but his mum didn’t relent, running her fingers through his strands with tender, placating movements.

His anger faded, replaced by a deep, aching sadness that pressed down on his chest and clenched his throat. Silent, spiteful tears ran down his cheeks, and eventually he was sobbing in his mother’s arms, his snot damping her shirt.

“It’ll come, you’ll see,” she murmured, and in the comfort of her hug it was easy to delude himself that it was true.

“Alan will buy his books and all the rest this Saturday,” Gus mentioned casually during lunch. “We could go too.”

His mum hesitated. “Why don’t we go this Friday, instead?”

“But I want to go with Alan!” he complained, annoyed.

“Saturdays are always so busy, though…”

“We can’t go alone. I don’t have the list.”

His mum smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, I can ask Aunt Agnes to give me a copy.”

He huffed. “Okay, then…”

Gus left Flourish and Blotts with his brand-new pewter cauldron full of interesting books.

“Now there’s only the wand left!” he said excited, walking towards Ollivanders with a spring in his step.

His mum gave him an exaggerated grin. “Of course, sweetheart.”

When he reached the wand shop, he rested his hand against the window and peered inside.

“Look how many there are, Mum!” he said, enthralled by the sight of dozens of shelves packed with small boxes. “C’mon, let’s go inside!”

He was about to open the door, when his mum held him back.

She was still smiling, but now her expression seemed strained… Fake.

“Shouldn’t we wait for the letter, before buying a wand?” she asked with a too high-pitched voice.

Gus swallowed. “Why?” he asked harshly.

His mother let out an awkward laugh. “Well, you see, nobody ever buys a wand before receiving the letter… I’m not even sure that it’s allowed, so we really sh–”

“But I’m eleven!” Gus cut her off. “I want to start casting spells!”

“You know children can’t do magic outside of Hogwarts, sweetheart…”

“But all my friends have! Horatio fell from his broom and bounced without breaking a single bone; Jacob once spilled pumpkin juice on Alan but he didn’t get wet; Kresten made the mud stains on his new trousers disappear, because he was scared his mother would ground him, and –”

His mother sighed, her forced smile fading. “Those… those weren’t real spells, Gus…”

“Of course they were!”

She shook her head. “They were just… just bursts of accidental magic,” she explained in a low voice. “You see, it’s normal for children to accidentally do wandless magic, from time to time… Every child does.”

“But that’s not true!” objected Gus, clenching his hands. “It never happened to me!”

“No,” said his mother, her eyes glassy, and Gus felt his stomach plummeting. “No, it never happened to you, because you… you are not a wizard, Gus…”

He looked at her in shock, shaking his head in betrayed disbelief, his mouth opening and closing without uttering any sound.

“I… of course I am… I… I have to be…”

His mother swallowed, her features crumpled in sorrow, and Gus hated her for this despicable show of weakness.

“I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart, I know I should have told you sooner, but –”

“YOU’RE WRONG!” shouted Gus, a sour taste in his mouth, his inside twisted in a knot. He couldn’t bear it, he couldn’t bear her, with her sickening lies and her deceiving smiles, and when she grabbed him from the shoulders, Gus wriggled free.

He ran away with angry tears running down his face, feeling like his whole world had just been ripped apart.

He was crying in a forgotten alley, his back pressed against cold bricks and his forehead resting upon his knees, when he felt something wet grazing his fingers.

He shot his head towards it and saw a black kitten brushing his tiny snout against his bare skin.

“Go away,” he mumbled, but didn’t move his hand.

The kitten probably sensed his lack of conviction, because it didn’t pull back, preferring to lick his fingers. It tickled a bit, but in a pleasant way, and Gus tentatively turned his hand over to caress its neck.

“Where do you come from, kitty?”

Its soft meow was covered by the rumors of hasty steps, and a moment later a girl with dirty blond hair darted into the alley.

She stopped abruptly when she saw him, her breaths deep and frequent, a hand pressed against her right side. When she lowered her gaze, her eyes went wide. “Tibbles!” she exclaimed, running towards Gus and lifting the docile kitten in her arms. “I was at the Magical Menagerie, and,” - she took a deep breath - “a nasty cat fled from the owner’s hands and scared him off,” she explained with a hint of resentment, taking another deep breath.

Gus nodded in understanding, feeling a bit sorry for her and for her kitten, but also for himself. He would have liked to stay alone with Tibbles for a bit longer.

“I searched for him in every alley,” said the girl. “Thank Merlin you found him.”

“It wasn’t me who found him. He was the one who found me.”

The girl threw him a suspicious glance. “That’s weird. He doesn’t like strangers.”

“Well, he likes me,” said Gus defensively.

She quirked an eyebrow, studying his face. “So it seems,” she conceded eventually, scratching Tibbles’ ears. “Anyway, I’m glad he isn’t lost. Mr Paws would have gone barmy if I had come back without him.”

Gus felt a sting of annoyance. “Is Mr Paws your father?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. If his own dad were still alive, Gus certainly wouldn’t call him by his surname.

The girl scoffed mockingly, and he didn’t know if he felt more irritated or humiliated.

He crossed his arms in a challenging pose. “What’s so funny?”

“He’s not my father, silly boy,” she clarified with a slightly patronising tone. “He’s Tibbles’ father. I have to bring him back to him, by the way, but you can come with me to the Magical Menagerie, if you like. You seem a bit lost.”

“I’m not lost!” he spluttered indignantly.

The girl shrugged. “Suit yourself, then,” she said, heading towards the entrance to the alley with Tibbles secured firmly in her arms.

Gus watched her walking away, but a moment later he jumped onto his feet, wiping his face with the back of his hands.

“Wait,” he called, rushing towards her. “I’m coming too.”

She shrugged again. “Fine,” she said, looking at him with an odd expression. “Do you want to carry Tibbles?”

Gus hadn’t expected the offer, and he nodded eagerly, stretching his hands to grab him. The kitten snuggled cosily in his arms, and this was all Gus needed to endure the endless, dull chatting of the girl, who had taken it upon herself to tell him everything about her crossbred cats and Kneazles.

The Magical Menagerie was smelly, noisy and packed with cages on every wall. There were animals of every kind and colour, from cats, toads, and rats to weird furballs and double-ended newts.

“Arabella!” exclaimed the witch behind the counter, pulling off a pair of heavy black spectacles with which she was examining an adult cat with black fur. “Did you find him?” she asked urgently, while the cat raised his head and meowed.

The girl pointing her thumb at Gus. “He did.”

The witch pressed a hand to her chest at the sight of Tibbles. “Thank Merlin,” she said with relief. “I’m sorry about what happened, dear. I won’t charge you for Mr Paws’ examination, and feel free to grab a packet of cat treats on your way out.”

“I will,” said Arabella without any trace of embarrassment, before taking Mr Paws from the counter. She then turned towards Gus, looking right into his eyes. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Gus,” he said a bit defiantly.

“You’re the boy they’re looking for, then!” said the older witch, her eyes wide. “Your mother was here a moment ago, she was worried sick!”

Gus felt a rush of vicious satisfaction at these words. “Serves her right,” he muttered.

“Come now, lad!” scolded the witch. “I’ll go find her. You stay here.” She pointed a menacing finger at him before looking back at the girl. “Arabella, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait a bit more. I’ll show you the new kittens when this matter is solved.”

“It’s okay,” said the girl, nonplussed.

As soon as the witch was out of the shop, Gus dashed to the door, but only to find out she had locked it. He swore and kicked it, frustrated.

Arabella looked at him with curiosity. “Why are you avoiding your mum?”

“That’s none of your business,” he said, scowling. “Why do you know that witch so well?”

“Weren’t you listening?” she asked, annoyed. “I told you, I picked all my cats here. I want the seventh one.”

“What do you do with all these cats, if you’re only allowed to bring one to Hogwarts?”

For the first time, Arabella was lost for words. She lowered her eyes, swaying slightly on her feet. “I…”

“Do you really have six cats?”

“Of course I do!” she said indignantly, raising her head again to glare at him.

“Then how –”

“I’ve never been to Hogwarts, okay?” she cut him off aggressively. “Are you happy, now?”

He stared at her, taken aback. She was taller than him and obviously a few years older. “Why not?” he asked in a low voice, his heart thundering in his ears.

“Because I’m a Squib, that’s why.”

Gus had no idea what she was talking about. “A what?”

“Someone without magical power born into a wizarding family,” she said with impatience. “Are you taking the mickey or have you actually never heard of it?”

Gus stayed silent. Squib. So that was what people like him were called…

“I’m a Squib too,” he admitted, finally saying out loud what he had secretly known since forever. He felt relieved, in a way.

“Oh.” She didn’t look particularly bothered. “Well, that’d explain why Tibbles liked you, then. Cats love Squibs.”

“They do?”

“Yes, Albus Dumbledore told me so, in person. See, my parents know him.”

Gus was quite impressed to hear that, but he wasn’t particularly keen to tell her.

She rolled her eyes. “You know, Dumbledore?” She had spoken as if she was talking to a two-year-old. “Hogwarts’ Deputy Headmaster, the greatest –”

“I know who he is!” said Gus with resentment. Blimey, he had five Chocolate Frog Cards of him! Of course he knew who he was. Everybody did.

The girl’s miffed answer was lost, because at that moment the owner got back, his mother in tow.

“Gus!” exclaimed the latter, rushing to hug him. “I was so worried, I couldn’t find you anywhere!”

He didn’t answer, making sure to put on a reproachful scowl. When his mum looked at him with dismay, Gus felt cruelly pleased.

The owner stepped in, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you help Arabella pick her new kitten, lad?”

She had spoken with a conciliatory tone, and even if Gus hated to admit it, he was intrigued by the offer. He glanced at the girl and she shrugged, so he looked back at the witch and nodded. “Okay.”

“C’mon, then,” she said briskly, leading them behind the counter. One by one, they took all the cats and Kneazles out of their cage, no matter their fur colour or their age, and Gus and Arabella held them all in turn.

“What about that one?” asked Gus with surprise when the witch skipped one of the cages.

“She’s the one that scared Tibbles,” said Arabella with bitterness.

“Can I see her?”

The witch looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Are you sure? I can’t guarantee you that –”

He nodded with decision.

“Very well, then.” She opened the cage with cautious movements, and the kitten showed her sharp teeth, jerking a paw forward with her claws out.

“Nasty kitty!” yelped the witch, withdrawing her hand.

Gus got closer, intrigued. Ignoring his mother’s frightened “No!”, he bent forward and took the dust-coloured kitten, who snuggled meekly in his arms, purring happily.

Gus turned and met the baffled gaze of the three women in the shop. “Can I keep her, Mum?” he asked. Only silence followed. “Mum?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” she said, coming back to earth. “Of course you can keep her.”

His mum knocked on the door and peered into his room without waiting for an answer.

“It’s Alan,” she said with a smile. “Why don’t you go and say hi?”

Gus kept caressing his kitten’s fur. “Tell him I’m not here,” he said, lowering his gaze and hoping she would take it as a hint to let him be.

“It’d do you good to go out with your friends, once in a while…”

“I don’t want to see them.”

“Gus… They care about you… I’m sure they’d understand, if you talk to them…”

“Nobody cares about Squibs,” he said stubbornly. “Except cats,” he added on a second thought.

“Please, Gus…”

“I said, tell them I’m not here.”

“Okay,” murmured his mum, defeated.

He thought she might have been crying, but he didn’t bother to check.

Gus refused to meet his friends for the rest of the summer. He would rather stay alone all the time than tell them why he wasn’t going to Hogwarts, or why he would never own a wand.

He made a habit of watching them play, perched on his windowsill, his cat always at his side. He couldn’t say when he had begun to resent them so much, so agile on their broomsticks, so happy and carefree, so good at reminding him how different he was.

“One day, we’ll go to Hogwarts too,” he promised to his cat on one of those awful afternoons. “And I swear that not a single student will dare make fools of Mrs Norris and Argus Filch.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #letters from hogwarts #hogwarts letter #missing scene #canon compliant #pre-canon #pre-hogwarts #squib #cats #minor character #one shot #long post

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onewfantaesy · 5 years ago

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In super bats au, Taemin considers the best part of 8th grade is the fact that they get to go on a week-long class trip. It’s mainly to see the monuments in the state capital, but there’s a whole two-days dedicated to touring the general public parts of League HQ and Mount Justice. Even though he’s seen them both more times than he can count, it’s interesting to see it from a non-hero’s perspective.

It is a little weird to be wearing his school uniform, but he figures it at least helps him blend in with his classmates easier.

When they walk through HQ, it really does take his breath away just like everyone else. He and Batman don’t usually take the visitor’s entrance. To see the statues of the League standing there, watching over everyone - it’s impressive.

“Welcome Gotham Academy,” Superman greets them, and everyone immediately stops whispering to stare at him in complete awe. “Today you’ll be touring through our museum and going through some interactive holographic scenarios. And, if I recall correctly, tomorrow you’ll be visiting Mount Justice to learn about our young heroes.”

Ravi, standing next to Taemin, shoots his hand in the air.

“Yes, you, young man in the middle?”

“Are we gonna meet Batman and Robin?” Ravi asks, grinning. Everyone starts buzzing again, overly curious about meeting their own resident heroes, and Taemin grins.

“Batman and Robin aren’t scheduled to be in this weekend,” Superman tells them, eliciting a number of groans. “But you never know. Now, let’s break up into groups of no more than six, and you can head into the museum!”

Taemin, Moonkyu, Ravi, and Naeun make up a group, and their tour guide is none other than Superman himself. Ravi, Moonkyu, and Naeun are practically vibrating they’re so excited, everyone else having gotten a teacher chaperone to lead them around the museum. Superman gave the excuse that it was because he wanted the smallest group to still get a good experience.

Jinki of course knew Taemin would be visiting, and he perhaps told Taemin to make sure he was in the smallest group ahead of time so he could be their guide. He also told a few heroes to make sure they showed up for the school tour, even going so far as to tell them it was something else. Certain heroes hate doing the school tour thing.

The next day at Mount Justice, Superman meets them again to give them the tour. Taemin of course had been told about the Gotham Academy tour. He and the team are always told about the school tours. Robin never shows up to any of them. Batman rarely shows up either. It ruins their mystique.

But of course Amber and Kai convinced the entire rest of the team to be present at the Gotham Academy tour this year. Miss Martian was excited when she learned it was Taemin’s class, but she did a very good job of not bringing any attention to it.

The school tours rarely ever go to the more intimidate parts of Mount Justice. They mainly only see the training room, the small history section of what the base was originally used for, and then learn about the team members. Most of the day is spent being bussed from their hotel in the capital to where Mount Justice is, and then back to the hotel.

But when Taemin, Moonkyu, and Ravi are huddled together and taking in all the random knick knacks on the souvenir display, Miss Martian comes by and says hi.

“Hi!” Moonkyu grins. “You’re super cool! Are you really from Mars? Can you really shapeshift? Does it hurt? How do you do it?”

Miss Martian giggles and smiles at him.

“I am from Mars! And I am a shapeshifter, I just sort of think about it and it works. It doesn’t hurt, but it does sometimes feel funny. Like a tickle!”

“You’re very pretty,” Moonkyu says, his voice a lovestruck-whisper. Miss Martian giggles.

“Is Robin here?” Ravi asks, hanging off of Taemin.

Miss Martian pouts a bit, “No, he doesn’t usually show up to these things. He’s always very busy with Batman in Gotham. But you guys must know all about that!”

“Batman and Robin are always busy,” Ravi says, nodding his head. He is visibly disappointed, though.

“That’s ‘cause Gotham is full of crazies,” Taemin jokes. “It must keep them busy.”

It makes all of them laugh, and Miss Martian’s smile widens at Taemin.

“Are you guys having fun?” She asks.

“Tons of fun!” Ravi insists. “This is so cool!”

“Would you three like a picture?” she asks.

“Yes!” All three of them insist. They’re quick to take a selfie with her, and she is more than a little giddy about it. Normally Taemin is annoyed when people want his picture, but the fact that it’s him, normal Taemin, getting a picture with a superhero while Chanyeol fumes from across the room makes it so sweet. So worth it.

“Miss Martian, can I get your autograph?” Taemin asks, holding out a notebook and a marker. Miss Martian is clearly a little shocked, then beams at him and quickly writes a little message and gives her autograph. Most people don’t usually ask for her autograph. Then both of Taemin’s friends get her autograph as well.

This leads to Taemin and his friends getting autographs from the entire team, minus Robin. Miss Martian had made sure she got them all to sign their notebooks. Taemin’s friends were the only kids who got them. Chanyeol looked like he was going to explode. Taemin just smirked, made a face at him, and then stuck his tongue out before getting Artemis’ autograph.

Amber, in her full Artemis costume, wanted so badly to slap Taemin over the head for being an instigating little shit. But it was definitely hilarious to see Taemin finally fighting back against his bully.

“So who’s your favorite hero?” Amber asks, signing the notebook.

“Batman.”

Amber looks up to make a face at him. What a little shit.

“Okay, Mr. Gotham,” Amber teases, “who’s your favorite non-Gothamite hero?”

“Superman.” Taemin didn’t hesitate one second.

“What’s a girl gotta do to be a favorite hero?” Amber teases.

“You’re Naeun’s favorite, I think,” Taemin tells her. Then he perks up. “Can I go get her real quick?”

“I’d love to meet a fan!”

“NAEUN!” Taemin hurries to run to find her, and he pulls her over by the hand while whispering in her ear that Artemis is so cool and nice and she should come talk to her. “This is Naeun! She’s a big fan!”

“Aww, really?” Amber asks, genuinely excited.

“I really like archery,” Naeun says softly. “You and Green Arrow and Speedy are my favorites.”

“That’s so exciting!” Amber says. “I’ve never met anyone who’s favorites are the archers.”

Naeun is very shy and quiet, and Taemin tries really hard to help her talk more. They have to leave pretty soon though, but Naeun was so excited afterwards and held on to taemin’s arm the rest of the day.

It was a great class trip.

#taemin #shinee #minho #super bats au

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inakua · 5 years ago

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Late Night Wanderings

Request: Oneshot for Percy Weasley x Oliver Wood?? Recently discovered this ship, but there’s not a lot written about it :’( Don’t really have any specific plot ideas but could you do something set while they are still at Hogwarts, about them getting together?? AND LOTS OF FLUFF - @me-just-pretending-to-know

Warnings: n/a(I will always try and tag as many warnings as I can think of for each writing, if you read through and find something that I haven’t listed which may be a trigger for someone please send me an ask or message me so that I can add it to this list, thanks!)

Pairings: Percy Weasley x Oliver Wood

Words: 1617

Fandom: Harry Potter

A/N: Okay, so for this my basic plot idea is that Percy likes to sneak out at night and go sit in the Quidditch stands, him and Oliver see each other start chatting and bam they like each other lol … also I realise that this request was literally sent in like over a year ago oops … so sorry I’ve been sooo inactive! Enjoy :)

REQUEST A ONESHOT

I suppose you could say that Percy Weasley was the odd one out. His whole family were different in there own unique ways, but him, he was completely different to all of them. He was known as the stuck-up, sensible, snobbish Weasley, the one who couldn’t have fun, the one who couldn’t take a joke.

Sometimes he just had to take a break from all of it, he only acted the way he did because he wanted to do well. He wanted to get a good, respected job in the Ministry, he wanted to provide financially for his future family in the way that his family couldn’t now. He loved his family, each and every one of them, although he didn’t show it every often, and he honestly wouldn’t trade them for the world, sometimes they just got on his nerves a bit; as all families do. They knew most of the things that went on in his life, whether he’d told them directly or they found out because the twins had gone snooping. However, there were two things that they didn’t know and he certainly never wanted them to find out, at least not until he was ready.

Firstly, Percy was gay.

Secondly, Percy spent almost every night down at the Quidditch pitch, it was his sanctuary in the dark, the place that he went to let his thoughts roam free and true feelings run around.

Tonight was that same as any other, Percy wandered down to the Quidditch Pitch, his robes pulled tightly around him, protecting him from the chill of the February night.

Only, as much as it was the same, it was also extremely different.

As usual, he walked down to the pitch, sat in at the very top of the stands, squished in a corner, a book clutched in his hand as if he were meaning to read it; yet he never did.

He’d been there not even 5 minutes when a figure in the distance caught his eye. Sinking lower into his seat he prayed they weren’t making there way into the pitch, aka the only place at Hogwarts in this part of the castle.

“Shit,” Percy whispered, practically on the floor in an attempt to hide himself, book clutched tightly to his chest and glasses fogging up.

As the figure came closer, finally making it’s way onto the pitch, Percy wished he could’ve cursed louder.

Oliver Woods.

Roommate, captain of the quidditch team and possibly the hottest guy Percy had ever laid eyes on.

Percy watched as Oliver placed his broom on the ground, eyes scanning the stalls. If possible Percy sank even lower in his seat, praying that he wouldn’t be seen.

…

Oliver scanned the pitch, looking for any signs of movement. He hadn’t been out to practice on the pitch in the past couple of days, revision for NEWTs taking over his life, or that’s the excuse he told himself.

You see the thing is he was only in the library for one reason, and one reason only - Percy Weasley.

He’d be lying of he said that he hadn’t noticed the boy, almost everyday for the past week Oliver had been ‘revising’ at the table opposite from Percy Weasley. He always made sure to sit behind him so the boy in question wouldn’t notice, but he couldn’t help himself from watching as he studied.

The revision causing his eyebrows to furrow cutely in concentration, and the innocent way he chewed on his quill when he’d get stuck on something drove him crazy.

He wished he’d have the courage to actually talk to him, but he never seemed to get the chance.

Sighing, Oliver mounted his broom, shaking his head to try and clear the thoughts of Percy from his mind.

Before his obsession with ‘revising’, he’d been trying to perfect the Wronski feint, hoping to use it and surprise the Slytherins in their upcoming match.

“Come on Wood, time to concentrate,” he muttered to himself, willing his mind to focus. As he flew up into the air a glimpse of red caught his eye. Swinging around to see if his eyes were playing tricks in him, he spotted a mop if red hair lying in amongst the stands.

“Uh … hello?” Oliver called, flying over.

“Shit,” Percy cursed, scrambling to get up off the floor, hitting his head on a seat in the process, “ Um … I dropped my book?”

“Percy?! Uh hi, what - er what are you doing here?” Oliver asked in surprise, making a mental note of how cute Percy looked when he blushed.

“Just studying,” He squeaked, his face going even redder, “ya know for NEWTs and everything.”

“Yeah, well I was just gonna practise for the next match, you’re welcome to watch,” Oliver offered, hoping he’d accept.

Percy just sat there in shock, his brain scrambling for anything to say, had the Oliver Woods just asked him to watch him train?

“I mean you don’t have to or anything, I was just - I,”

“No!” Percy practically screamed, blush reaching down to his neck now, “I’d love to watch you train,”

“Really?” Oliver asked, stunned.

Percy rubbed the back of his neck, nervous all of a sudden, “Um yeah, really.”

“I - great! I’ll get started then,” Oliver replied, his body bouncing as he was filled with excitement and adrenaline, “you know you’re cute when you blush,” and with that he flew off into the sky.

Meanwhile, Percy’s brain was moving at a mile a minute, trying to process what the hell had just gone on.

“C - cute?” Percy mumbled, a smile creeping onto his face as he looked up and watched Oliver flying around the pitch.

They must’ve been down at the pitch for at least an hour before Oliver stared to warm down, realising what he was doing Percy jumped up from his seat and made his way down onto the pitch just as Oliver got off the broom.

“So? What you think?”

“I think you’re gonna beat Slytherin on Sunday,” Percy replied shyly, clutching his book to his chest.

“Yeah? I hope so, I’d really love it if we could win the cup our final year, ya know? Go out with a bang.”

Percy simply nodded, unsure what to reply as Quidditch wasn’t really his forte.

“You should probably head back up to the castle, curfew was a few hours ago and I need to shower in the changing rooms,” Oliver said, picking his broom up off the floor.

“Oh yeah, of course … I’ll see you around then?” Percy asked, shuffling nervously on his feet.

“Yeah see you around Perce,” Oliver replied, turning around to make his way to the changing rooms, mentally kicking himself for not being able to ask him out.

“Oliver!” Percy called, not being able to believe what he was about to do.

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re cute too!”

Oliver grinned as he watched Percy blush a bright red, before spinning around and practically running back towards the castle.

…

Two days later Oliver walked into the library, intent on getting what he wanted … Percy Weasley.

Thankfully, he was there, sat at his usual desk, a quill already in between his teeth and brow furrowed.

Unlike in the past, Oliver didn’t sit at the table opposite him bit marched straight up to his table, pulling out the chair opposite him.

“Hi Perce,”

“Oliver?” Percy asked, head cocked in confusion.

“Yep.”

Only just realising who it was that was sitting in front of him, Percy immediately sprang up in his chair, face quickly turning red, almost toppling over onto the floor.

“Woah, don’t wanna hurt yourself there Perce,” Oliver grinned, clutching onto Percy’s arm to keep him steady.

“Right. Yeah, sorry,” Percy mumbled, looking up at Oliver from his precarious position half off his chair.

“So um, about the other night,” Oliver began, moving his hand down Percy’s arm until it rested on his hand that clutched the edge of the table. “I just wanted to ask -”

“Willyougotohogsmeadewithme?” Percy suddenly blurted, his mind working on autopilot, as his eyes popped open wide.

“What?”

“Shit … um - I. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that I didn’t really know what I was thinking, I mean why would you want to go out with someone like me? I don’t even know if you like guys, but there was the other night and now your hand and I just -”

Oliver smiled at Percy as he continued to rant, unbelieving that he’d just asked him to Hogsmeade. Before he knew what he was doing he cupped Percy’s face with his hands, immediately shutting him up.

Staring into his eyes Oliver grinned, the shocked expression and doe eyes looking up at him making him melt inside, “I like you too.”

Pulling him closer Oliver rested their foreheads together, not wanting to take advantage or pressure Percy into anything.

“Just kiss me already,” Percy muttered breathlessly. Oliver did just that, pressing their lips together as they clung to each other in the corner of the library, unaware of the two pairs of eyes watching from the bookcase behind them.

“Good thing we told Oliver to go out and practise that nice Georgie.”

“Yeah, didn’t know Perfect Percy had it in him.”

#hp #percy weasley #oliver woods #perciver #percy x oliver #Oliver x percy #hp oneshot #oneshot #hp slash #slash #weasley #woods #inakua #golden trio era #lightening era #hogwarts #hp imagine #hp writing #hp male

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aaronhart93-archive · 4 years ago

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breaking the news ll alison & aaron

Discord thread featuring: Aaron & @alison-haynes

Mentions: @romanbeckett @luca-regio

When: July 26, 2020

Description: Alison tells Aaron she’s pregnant

Trigger Warnings: pregnancy, aaron just being a dick/melodramatic as usual

Alison.

Alison's schedule had been busy the past few weeks. Ever since announcing the new album, she had interview after interview to promote it. Which also involved some traveling. While she was in California, the blonde had felt a little off, throwing up a couple times, and at first she chalked it up to nerves of the new album. But then her period was late, so the blonde finally took a pregnancy test -- which had come back positive. When she saw the two pink lines on the test, it was shock. So, she took another, and again, two pink lines. Alison even took the liberty to go see a doctor right away to confirm the pregnancy. The popstar, was for sure pregnant. She had just arrived back to the city the day prior, and had gone to Luca's right from the airport to tell him. Now, now she had to tell Aaron, and she knew that he was not going to take it well. Not one bit. Their daughter was off on a playdate, which Alison was appreciative about, because she didn't need Destiny to be in the house when Aaron exploded. And Alison knew he would. She took a deep breath, before letting herself into Aaron's penthouse, and walking into his kitchen, pouring a glass of water immediately, and downing half of it. "Hey, Aaron." She said, seeing him enter the room.

Aaron.

Aaron had been spending his whole week with his boyfriend and his daughter. Boy, was his week amazing. They had spent time with Des while Alison was away, and was also helping his partner move into his new apartment; which came with a whole room just for Des. This made Aaron the happiest man in the world. Not only did he have someone who loved him but he also had someone who loved his daughter. Literally nothing could bring him down. He had everything he could ever want. He had dropped off Destiny at Landon’s house for the day, and Roman had to work so he had the day to himself. No matter how much he liked being alone for the day, he was actually beyond happy that Ali was going to come over. He missed her, but understood why she had been gone. He was used to it by now, Destiny on the other hand...definitely hated when her mom was away for an extended period of time. She always threw more fits and was harder to put down at night. Aaron was a great dad, but Destiny needed nothing of her parents. “Al” He beamed, when he saw her standing in his kitchen. He ran up to her and gave her a big hug and a peck on the cheek. “Cali looks good on you, as always.” He mused, walking over to his wine cooler and started eyeing his collection of expensive wines and thinking of which one to open up.

Alison.

Of course while Alison was away, she was stressed. She was stressed over her album, as she usually was when a new album was coming out. But there was also the Luca and Aaron situation brewing in the back of her mind. She knew Aaron wasn’t Luca’s biggest fan, but she was in love with the Italian. She wanted Aaron and Luca to be friends. She wanted to introduce her blonde haired daughter to the man she was in love with. But Aaron would stop that the way things were currently going. She hated that Aaron couldn’t trust her judgement on Luca. Alison wasn’t one to just jump into a relationship with someone, nor would she do something to harm herself or her family. But yet, Aaron couldn’t trust her when it came to Luca. The blonde leaned against the kitchen counter, after returning Aaron’s hug. “I hope so.” She said with a laugh. She wasn’t ready to tell Aaron, she hadn’t even been ready to tell Luca. But they were two of the most important people in her life, the only people who needed to know about this right now. “How’s your week been?” She questioned, as she sipped her water once again.

Aaron.

Aaron scanned the wine cooler, finally deciding on a nice Rosé. He popped it open and reached for two crystal wine glasses in the China cabinet. He had this big dumb smile on his face when she asked him about his week. He couldn’t wait to tell her. “It was great.” He began, pouring a glass of wine for himself and one for Alison as well. “It’s Roman birthday on the 31st. So we’ve been doing birthday things and decorating his new place. Look at Des’s room in his apartment.” He pulled out his phone from her pocket and started scrolling through his camera roll to show the pop star. “Look. He mounted a tv on the wall and put pink theater curtains on the sides like a stage.” He mused, excited that his boyfriend decided to do something so personal and thoughtful for her daughter. “And I showed destiny some of the Les Mis soundtrack and she keeps singing Castle on a Cloud and literally kills it and I’m not just saying that because I’m biased. If they do a revival on broadway, we’re taking her to that audition.” He laughed. He didn’t mean to rant like this, but he was so excited to tell his best friend about his week. “Anyway, sorry.” He held the other wine glass out for the blonde. “Anything new with you?” He raised his brow.

Alison.

The way Aaron went on and on about Roman was cute. She was glad that the pair had been able to put aside their problems and work things out. She could tell that Aaron was genuinely happy, and she was glad about that. “Its adorable! She’s going to love it.” The blonde mused. They were best friends, and Alison wanted to be able to go on and on about how happy Luca made her to Aaron, in the same way Aaron could go on about Roman. But she couldn’t. Aaron hadn’t come around on Luca, even though Alison was clearly in love with him. That was hard to accept. She never thought she’d be in a relationship that Aaron disapproved of, but at the same time, she was an adult and she was able to make her own decisions, especially when they involved her love life. And now, now that Alison knew that she was carrying Luca’s baby, she wanted more than ever for Luca and Aaron to get along. But she knew it would be the opposite. She kept nodding as Aaron spoke, but it was obvious her mind was elsewhere. The blonde took the wine glass, with no intention of drinking it. She set it on the counter next to her water. “It’s okay. You’re in love.” She said brightly, wishing she could go on and on about how excited Luca was about the baby that was growing inside of her. But she couldn’t. She felt as though she couldn’t speak about Luca to Aaron, not without stepping on a sore spot and she knew what came next would be a huge sore spot. “You know how it goes when I’m about to release a new album.” She said, leaning on the counter. “Busy, go go.” She said, before taking a huge breath, knowing she just had to do it or she wouldn’t. “I do need to tell you something though. Can we go sit?”

Aaron.

Aaron shoved his phone back in his pocket, his smiling still covering his bearded face. “Yeah I know!” He exclaimed, excited for the big reveal he was planning for his daughter even though she had a lot of say in how she wanted her new room to be. “I am in love. I really am.” He shook his head and bit his lip, trying to hide his smile. He hated how cringy and sappy his partner made him, but he would never let people know how corny they actually got. Even Ali. The man took a sip of his wine and nodded his head. “I know, it’s gonna be great though. It’s being well received by the public already and doing promos and touring with Emily is gonna be so great. You’ll have a friend there the whole time so that’s going to be comforting.” He told her. He was both excited and sad to know that Alison was going to be really busy and eventually touring. He was excited for her and her career, but things felt a little more empty when she wasn’t around. Des could feel the emptiness as well. Aaron brought the crystal to his lips then paused mid-sip. It was never good when Alison told her that she needed to tell him something. “Uh huh.” He mumbled, trying to remain calm. He lead her into the living room that was lined with floor to ceiling windows and sat on his leather couch, kicking his feet up on the ottoman. He looked at her with an anticipating expression.

Alison.

The way Aaron beamed on about Roman made Ali’s heart flutter. It was exactly how she felt for Luca, except she didn’t really have anyone to go on and on too. Aaron was the person she wanted to tell. The person she wanted to brag about her boyfriend, yet he was the exact person she couldn’t tell. He was always Alison’s person, and he still was, but it just felt weird that he could brag on about his great relationship, and she couldn’t brag about hers. The blonde nodded, “I know. And I personally think it’s my best album to date. I think the fans will really dig it.” Alison was excited to go on tour again, but she knew she’d be missing Destiny, and well — her new baby girl or boy. Luca and Aaron would be well missed too. She wasn’t sure how she was feeling about tour though, with this new news. She picked up her glass of water, leaving the wine on the counter before heading to his couch and taking a seat. Alison took a sip of her water before setting it down, ready for him to explode. She knew Aaron was going to think her and Luca had been trying for a baby. Hell, she had asked Aaron if he’d be interested in fathering another child not that long ago. But the truth was, Alison and Luca hadn’t been trying for a child. They just happened to not use protection the first time they had intercourse, and it had resulted in a pregnancy. Alison pushes her blonde locks back, “You need to not freak out. I mean— you’re going to freak out. But just try and remain calm, okay?”

Aaron.

Ali going on tour was hard for him and he missed her dearly while she was gone, but he did love his times with Destiny while she was away. Except this time around he was have Roman to be there with them while she was away. The thought made him happy, and he couldn't believe that he was afraid of his family falling apart. Then again, there was Luca whom Aaron still wasn't sure about. He knew he needed to make a decision on that soon and that he was really dragging out it out. That wasn't fair to Alison. Oh god, in his experience, he always ended up freaking out after she said that. They always said "don't freak out" to each other - and everything they each ended up freaking out. What the fuck could she possibly say now? Alison, every time you say to me..." He trailed off, taking a sharp breath in. He took feet from the ottoman and leaned his elbows on his knees, wine glass dangling in his hand. "What?" He took a deep breath. He was suddenly very nervous, knee shaking a little.

Alison.

The thoughts in Alison’s mind we’re swirling around. She had been trying to convince Aaron to give Luca a chance. She wanted to introduce her young daughter to her boyfriend, but she wouldn’t until Aaron told her she could. She respected Aaron and the fact that he was the father of her daughter, but she also knew everything was about to shift. If Aaron didn’t already hate Luca, he would after her next words. “I also need you to not hate Luca. And not to go and kill him.” She knew that would be one of the first thoughts to pop into his head. Alison’s family dynamic was about to change dramatically, and she didn’t know how it was going to work when she had an infant and a six year old. Especially if the fathers of her children’s absolutely hated each other. Her hand slowly slipped over her stomach, biting on her lip, “I—I’m—,” she needed to spit it out, and she needed to do it quickly, “—I’m pregnant.” She said quickly, hoping she said it slow enough for him to understand.

Aaron.

What could possibly be so bad that it would make Aaron want to kill Luca? Did he get back into drugs? Yeah, that would make Aaron want to kill Luca especially when he had been thinking about letting him meet Des soon. Aaron took a sip of his wine but nearly sip that shit out when she finally told him that she was pregnant. "Fuckin' -- what!?" He exclaimed, shooting up from his seat and frantically began pacing around his living. Aaron know that he had had way more sex that and only once did it result in a baby. Alison and Luca hadn't been together for that long so they couldn't have had that much sex. What the fuck was that logic? "Alison, did you not take sex education in high school? What the fuck!" He had literally no idea what to do with this information. His stomach turned. Destiny was getting a little sibling. Alison was getting another family. Without him. He felt...betrayed almost. Left out? "Or did you purposely get pregnant?" He asked, looking over at her. He downed his drink and made a beeline to the kitchen to pour himself another glass, not even waiting for her answer. Part of him didn't want to hear the answer. He really had no fucking idea how to react to this but the room was literally spinning.

Alison.

Alison knew whatever was about to happen, it wasn’t going to be good. And the blonde already hadn’t been feeling great, the morning sickness had been relatively new this week, but it has hit bad. When she was pregnant with Destiny, she didn’t experience much morning sickness, so she wasn’t expecting it. As Aaron heard the words, Alison shut her eyes tightly. She wanted to be back at Lucas apartment. When she told Luca about the pregnancy, his smile lit up the whole room. It made the very nervous Alison feel a lot better, but Aaron — well he was the complete opposite. In the past few months, everything had shifted. For a long time, Alison’s family was Aaron and Destiny. Now her family consisted of Aaron and Destiny, but also Luca and the new bundle of joy growing inside of her, and there was a good chance Roman was part of their family figure now. And it was something to figure out for sure. Alison rubbed her forehead as Aaron yelled at her, she didn’t need this. Alison rose from the couch, following the businessman to the kitchen, “No, not that it is your business but I did not get pregnant on purpose.” She told him, “But — I got pregnant. And that’s now something I have to deal with, and I need support from my loved ones. I need support from you.”

Aaron.

He was trying not to seem too frustrated...really trying. He knew he needed to be supportive and he wanted to be. Everything had changed so quickly for them in the past few months. He had dated two people in the past few months...that's two more than he had dated in almost six years. And now there was Alison...and Luca...and their baby. He dumped the rest of the wine into his glass and literally started chugging. Why couldn't be just be happy for his best friend? She was an amazing mom already, and he knew she was going to be an amazing mom to Des' sibling. His free hand gripped the granite countertop, steadying himself. The room really was spinning. "Jesus, I'm nauseous." That was ironic, considering that Alison had probably actually been nauseous for the past couple of weeks. He wasn't ready for this. He thought when he told Alison that he wouldn't help her with IVF that this conversation would be done with for now. That he wouldn't have to worry about this again for a while. Now he had to face this head on. "What did Luca say?" He asked, calmly. He was finally begin to loosen up, but that was definitely because of the wine.

Alison.

After Luca and Alison started a romantic relationship, Alison had decided that she was going to hold off on having another child. She wanted to get to know Luca, his perfections and imperfections. She wanted to learn everything about her Italian boyfriend, and focus on the relationship, and not a child. But— she had gotten pregnant —from sex once. Every time after the couple had used protection. Alison also didn’t want to upset Aaron once again. The two had argued for a while, and she hated not having her best friend around. She didn’t want to be back to that place again. “You and me both.” The blonde muttered. Alison really hated the morning sickness this pregnancy was bringing along with it. Aaron’s next words were ones she knew would come eventually. “Uh,” Alison was uncomfortable, that was clear. Her boyfriend was excited to become a father— but was upset that Alison was even here talking to Aaron currently. It broke her heart that her two favorite guys didn’t get along. But it was something she would need to learn to deal with, “Hes excited to be a dad.” She said, which was the truth. But she left out the part where her and Luca got into an argument and she had gone to sleep in tears the night prior. The night where her and Luca should have been celebrating their pregnancy, but instead, she slept awkwardly in the bed beside him because he was upset with her. She didn’t tell Aaron that part. If she had, she wasn’t sure what Aaron would do.

Aaron.

Aaron could remember his initial reaction to Alison when she told him he was pregnant over 5 years ago. He was less than proud of that reaction -- to say the least. So he was happy that Luca was excited. He could have reacted way worse which would have devastated Alison -- and really pissed Aaron off. "Okay, that's good." He said, finishing his glass and leaning his elbows on the island to put his head in his face, setting his glasses down beside him before he did. Aaron needed time to process all of this. He didn't know how to feel. He was happy for her...but terrified to think about what this meant for their family. He was suddenly concerned about what he was going to say to Luca. Their last conversation had gone less than well and now he literally had no choice but to speak with him again. He was fathering his daughter's sibling. Aaron took several deep breathes. His heart rate was fucking racing, and he could feel his face getting red. He stood there silently for a while. He was at a loss of words.July 23, 2020

Alison.

The initial reaction to her pregnancies by the fathers of her children were very different. She remembered how mad Aaron had been when she initially told him she was pregnant with Destiny, but it had turned around throughout the pregnancy and Aaron grew into one of the best fathers she knew. Alison has been nervous to tell Luca, in fear of another angry reaction. But the way Luca’s smile lit up the room when he found out he was going to be a father, had warmed Alison’s heart. “Yeah,” Alison desperately wanted Aaron and Luca to get along. She shut her eyes, “I need you — I really need you to try with Luca. I know you don’t like him —.” A few tears spilled over her eyes, “Everything is changing, Aaron. And I need you now more than ever.” She said softly.

Aaron.

Aaron was still upset. Well -- he didn't really know how he was feeling. Anxious. Nervous. Overwhelmed. Even a little angry still. And, God, he couldn't imagine how Alison was feeling right now. He tried to calm down when he noticed her crying, blue eyes meeting. He needed to be her best friend right now. "Alison..." He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her for a warn hug. He couldn't give her an answer about Luca, but he really didn't have a choice at this point. He was part of their family now and Aaron would just have to accept that. "Ali, you know I'm always -- always -- going to be here for you." He promised, kissing the top of her head. "Why are you crying?" He asked. Probably a dumb question -- She was having a baby. She was filled with so many different emotions she was probably so overwhelmed.

Alison.

The tall girl didn't know how to feel. Everything was mixed up. She was in a relationship with a man she was in love with, but it was a rather new relationship, but now she was carrying his baby. In hindsight, it was probably better than when she got pregnant with Destiny. The media said all sorts of things back then about the pair from a reality show. Now, at least Alison was in a relationship with the person she was about to have a baby with. What would the media think when this information came out? She knew they would have something to say, they always did. She couldn't just live her life. Plus, she hadn't even broken the news to her management, and she knew they wouldn't react great. She was one of the biggest money making artists there, and how would this information affect the upcoming sales on her new album. She learned into Aaron's hug, and thats when it happened. It was no longer just a few tears, Alison was full on sobbing into Aaron's shoulder. She sniffled, "You hate my boyfriend and my boyfriend hates you. And -- I -- I'm going to have children with both of you, I don't know what I'm going to do." She cried out. Maybe hate was a strong word, but that had been the vibe she had been getting from both of the guys.

Aaron.

Aaron sighed. His heart broke a little when he heard the mother of his child crying. He held her tight. “I don’t hate your boyfriend.” He said over his shoulder. “I’m just wary of him. Selling drugs is so dangerous. Do you remember Marley’s boyfriend, Logan? He sold drugs and never was able to get out of it. And Marley almost got hurt.” He said, reminding Alison about their old cast mates. “So I’m keeping my guard up. But I don’t hate him.” He reminded her. Aaron didn’t exactly like Luca, but he was trying.July 24, 2020

Alison.

He could say that he didn't hate her boyfriend, but it sure felt like he did. She rested her chin on his shoulder sadly, "I know. I know it was dangerous. But, he is pushing on, and living his life today. Not about what happened in the past, and sometimes you can't help who you fall in love with." She mumbled. She figured he'd know that, considering he had fallen in love with Roman, and she was sure he wasn't expecting that. "I'm cautious, Aaron. And you know -- Diego is almost always with me when I'm out. Sure, not when Luca and I are at my home, or at his, but we both live in secure buildings." She reminded him, another tear slipping from her eyes. "I just -- I need you both to try." This was her family unit now. Aaron, Destiny, Luca, and Baby Regio. She needed Aaron and Luca to get along somewhat. "Try really hard."

Aaron.

He wasn't going to comment when she asked him to try hard with Luca. He couldn't think about what he was going to say to him next, even though he knew they needed to have a long conversation. The bar owner would eventually have to aAaron pulled away from their hug and pressed her head against his hands to look over at her. "I'm here for you, Alison. Like I told you before -- no matter what you decide to do I'm going to be here for you." He reminded her. He was still fuming. God, he wanted to run over to Luca's and scream at him. He wasn't sure what he would say -- he just needed to get his anger and frustrations out on someone and he seemed like the perfect one for that. But that wasn't what Alison needed right now. She needed her best friend and daughter's father; she needed her family. "I promise you I am going to love that kid, and help you with everything you need." He said, sternly.

Alison.

Alison hadn't expected her life to go this way, not right now at least. After her and Luca got together, she expected to maybe have a child with him if their relationship lasted, but not this early on. But this was where her life was. When he pulled away, she started pacing back and forth, so many thoughts still going through her mind. "No matter what I decide to do? I mean - I'm having a baby. There isn't much to decide on." She said, wrapping her own arms around her lower stomach. More tears slipped from her eyes, as she took a seat once again. She knew Aaron would love her child, almost as much as he loved Destiny, but he wouldn't be able to do that if Luca didn't allow Aaron to see the baby. And with the way things were going, she wasn't sure what would happen. "I know you will," She whispered. Aaron wouldn't ever abandon her, especially not in something like that. She looked at him sadly, "I don't know what I'm doing -- Aaron." She admitted, "I feel lost, I feel alone." In this moment, she did. Even though, there were a million people who would support her. "--I feel like I'm stuck in the middle of a bad dream. And I'm not talking about the baby, the baby is a blessing. I already love this baby." She said quietly, "I just -- Luca didn't want me to tell you, yet. But I needed too. But - I don't even know what this family is going to be like if you two can't get along. I want to be able to tell you about how happy he makes me, Aaron. But I just zip my lips quiet, all the time. And I don't know if I can anymore."

Aaron.

Aaron really did feel like absolute shit. Hearing this from Alison made his heart break, but he knew he had a reason to keep his guard up about Luca. "Alison..." He began, sitting down next to her. "This is scary. I know you're scared, but I'm scared too honestly. Luca is -- not the type of person I expected you to fall in love with. I knew you would fall in love. I did. But not to a drug dealer, Alison. The truth is -- I'm scared of the unknown. I'm scared that we're gonna fall apart, and now -- with this new baby -- I'm even more scared." He confessed, running his hands through his hair. "Tell me about him then." He said reluctantly, after a few moments of silence. He didn't really want to hear all about him, but he hated that fact that Alison felt like she couldn't talk about her boyfriend, like Aaron could about his.

Alison.

Alison listened to his words, and she got it, she did. He was just looking out for her, and if the roles had been reversed, Alison would have been looking out for Aaron. But, Alison believed in Luca and believed he was a different man. And she wished Aaron could see that. She took a deep breath, nodding at Aaron. “You can’t help who you fall in love with. And he’s not a drug dealer anymore. He’s just Luca. My Luca.” She said. Alison had never seen the side of Luca that ended up behind bars, hence why she believed in him and believed he wouldn’t do any wrong. But, with her carrying Luca’s baby, it meant everything was different now. Alison grabbed Aaron’s hand, giving it a squeeze, “We’re not going to fall apart. You are still my best friend, and Destiny’s father. You are still my family. And you will always be my family— no matter what happens.” She promised him, giving his hand another squeeze. She could tell that Aaron didn’t want to actually hear about Luca, but it was nice that he offered. “Another time.” She said quietly.

Aaron.

It didn't please Aaron to hear Alison call Luca her Luca. He knew he was being stubborn as hell, but now he was more bothered than ever. Birth control. A condom. Pulling out even. Aaron could think of a hundred different ways that this could have been avoided, and was curious as to why Alison didn't think of any considering the last one night stand she had when she was 21. Aaron squeezed his best friend's hand back. "I believe you." He wasn't sure if there was a lot of truth to that. He wanted to believe that their family wouldn't fall apart, but he wasn't so sure he believed that himself. "Alright, Ali. I'm here whenever want to to tell me about it though. I'm sorry I haven't been open to it." He admitted. Aaron squeezed her hand again and put his head on her shoulder. He took a deep breath and let his cheeks puff up when he breathed out. He was calm -- well, calm-ish. He was still losing in internally but was trying to keep his cool for the singer. He furrowed his brow, suddenly picking up on something she had said to him before. "Luca didn't want you to tell me?" He asked, picking up head up from her shoulder and looking over at his, face twisted with confusion.

Alison.

Alison hadn’t thought about any type of protection the first time Luca and her had sex. She had been so caught up in the moment of his lips against her skin, she didn’t care to think about the need of any protection. After the first time, the pair had used condoms, but she was six weeks along, which lined up to the first time she had sex with her Italian boyfriend. Aaron was her family though, and at the end of the day, she wasn’t about to let the pregnancy ruin her already established family unit. It was time to expand the family unit and she would have to learn to make it work, if the people around her weren’t going to make it work. “I know you don’t like him, I get it. But you’re still the person I tell everything too—and it’s hard to keep this from you as he is such a big part in my life now.” She mentioned. Before looking over once more to him. “No. He didn’t want me to tell you yet. I couldn’t keep this from you though.”July 26, 2020

Aaron.

If Aaron hadn't been fuming before, he was fucking livid now. The nerve he had to even suggest that Alison shouldn't have told Aaron about her pregnancy... "What the fuck?" Aaron cleared his throat and got up and began pacing. "I'm Destiny's father! His child's sister's father!" He said, pointing to himself. "I'm confused at what his goal is here? Does he want me to hate him? Because we when had drinks we didn't even make it half way through a conversation before he left. He didn't even seem to want to put in the effort like I was." Maybe that wasn't entirely true, but Aaron was too angry now to see it from any other angle. "I--" He was getting fired up again. He tried to take several deep breathes but he couldn't seem to get calm. Alison was pregnant and Luca was part of their family now. "I need to take a walk." He slid into his sneakers and walked out of his home.

Alison.

That was something that Alison truly agreed with Aaron on when it came to Baby Regio. At the end of the day, their children would be siblings. She would be the mother of both Aaron and Luca's children. The two men didn't necessarily have to like each other, but their kids would grow up as siblings, so Aaron deserved to know that his daughter would be getting a sibling, and he deserved to know as soon as possible. "I know, I know you are. Thats why I couldn't keep this from you." Her eyebrow raised when he mentioned getting drinks with Luca. How did she not know the two had gone out for drinks? "I--when did you guys go out for drinks?" She asked, scratching the side of her head. Alison watched as he put his shoes on, "Please don't go." She said, but watched as Aaron walked out of the penthouse. Now Luca, and Aaron were both upset with her, and she truly was alone in this.

#discord #alison #baby regio

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