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animeomegas · 4 years ago

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Pregnant!Omega!Sasuke Headcanons

Anon: How about omega Sasuke being pregnant with an over protective mate?

@hakunamatatayqueen: Ooh ooh could I request some fluffy pregnant omega sasuke headcanons?👀 this baby deserves so much love and happiness omg pLz I love him so much- AND GOOD LUCK WITH UR WORK DARLING I’m in the same situation😔 so take your time and no worries🖤

(Sasuke is so popular on this blog haha! I thought I would combine these requests because they work so well together <3 Also, yes, I just want good things for Sasuke. He was screwed over so much throughout his life and I just want to make it better :( Thank you for the well wishes on my work, it’s not been fun to start university during a pandemic haha. I still haven’t met any classmates or teachers in person rip. I hope your work goes well too! I decided to write this because I already had a lot written already haha. Enjoy!!)

Warnings: Mpreg, swearing, mental breakdown, morning sickness mention ((and non-graphic description) I talked around it because I’m emetophobic haha)

There is very little in the world that Sasuke hates more than being pregnant.

He doesn’t just find the experience unpleasant, he hates it.

He feels trapped and uncomfortable all the time.

Too hot and too cold constantly.

He feels weak and useless and at the mercy of his instincts.

And that’s not even mentioning the horrible morning sickness, paranoia and mood swings.

He wanted to revive his family so badly, but the realities had him regretting his decision more than once, even if he was happy in the end.

This is the time in Sasuke’s life that he needs the support of his alpha the most.

Sasuke will refuse to get pregnant a second time. No exceptions.

He would get sterilised as soon as was safe after he had given birth.

TRIMESTER 1:

During his first trimester, Sasuke tries his hardest to carry on as normal.

I cannot tell you how many times you have to stop him from training so he doesn’t hurt himself or your pup.

He was also miserable when he was banned from taking any more missions.

He’s pretty good about going to his doctor’s appointments though and has no problem going to them alone if you’re busy.

He suffers from morning sickness during this time. An omega’s morning sickness can be helped with the scent of their alpha, so you end up spending lots of time scenting him when he feels awful.

Sasuke doesn’t tell many people that he’s pregnant and doesn’t like other people cooing over him. You get permission but he’ll act like he doesn’t enjoy it.

Sasuke has a very strong nesting urge from day 1, and he never thinks his nest is good enough. He spends a lot of time buying new materials for his nest, rearranging things and scenting everything. You are very lucky that Sasuke was the sole inheritor of all the Uchiha wealth with how many nesting supplies he buys.

You hovered uncomfortably outside the bathroom door, listening to your mate be violently ill in the early hours of the morning. He didn’t want you in there with him but your alpha was running in circles, desperate to help your mate somehow.

Eventually the sounds from the bathroom ceased. You waited for a moment before hesitantly knocking on the door.

“Sasuke?” You called out. “Can I come in?”

You heard a grunt that you decided to take as a positive response.

Swinging open the door, you let out a sigh and a quiet whine.

Sasuke was slouched on the floor, draped part way over the toilet. He looked pale and exhausted.

“Oh, baby.” You sighed, moving towards his shivering form.

“Go away.” He grumbled, resting his head on his arms. “It’s gross.”

You ignored him, crouching down to sit on the floor and shifting to sit behind him. You sat flush against his back, wrapping your arms gently around his waist. You started to release a gentle scent to help him with the nausea.

Sasuke took a few deep breaths before slumping back against you.

You cradled him as gently as you could, wiping his hair back from his sweat soaked forehead.

“Feeling better?” You whispered into his ear, rubbing soothing circles on his small baby bump.

Sasuke hummed, eyes already closed, nuzzling into your neck. He lifted a hand and latched onto the sleeve of your shirt, seemingly unaware of what he was doing.

You looked down at his exhausted form, clinging onto you in ways he would never normally let himself do, and you made a decision.

“I’m not going into work today.”

Sasuke’s eyes flew open at your words.

“No.” He scoffed. “You don’t need to stay here for me, I’m absolutely fine.”

He started trying to get up but you pulled him back against you, raising an eyebrow at his words.

“I want to stay, Sasuke.” You scented him some more, just in case any nausea still remained. “Think you can move back to bed?”

Sasuke hesitated. You waited patiently for his answer, rubbing small circles on his hips.

“I want...” Sasuke started, blushing. “I think I want to go to my nest.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea, omega. Do you want me to join you?”

“Please.” He whispered, embarrassed.

You helped him stand up from the bathroom floor and went to spend the rest of the day cuddled up in his nest.

TRIMESTER 2:

During trimester 2 Sasuke begins to show. He doesn’t get many stretch marks because his stomach is pretty small (but still healthy).

His mood swings start to get pretty extreme from this point.

Sasuke is very clingy and he gets frustrated when you have to leave him for too long. When you do leave him he gets cold or angry and always kicks you out of his nest for a day.

Sasuke starts to leave the house less and less in his second trimester. This is for many reasons. Firstly, he hates the attention he gets and doesn’t want to risk running into anyone he knows. He just doesn’t want to deal with it. Secondly, he gets a little paranoid about someone hurting his pup. You’re not really sure when those feelings start because he keeps them to himself, but when you find out you’re very worried.

To deal with it, you convince him to go on walks and dates with you outside the house. With you there, his anxiety is lessened, and it helps him cope with the paranoia.

Sasuke starts to develop cravings during this period. No one is surprised that he now wants tomatoes for every meal and snack. Every market day, you bring a huge bag and just clear out every tomato there. Sasuke refuses to cook when he’s pregnant so you end up cutting so many tomatoes over the duration of his pregnancy.

Finally, during his second trimester, Sasuke starts to be satisfied with his nest. And then subsequently spends every moment he can buried inside it. His nest is his safe space and putting him in there is a fool proof strategy to calm him down or ease discomfort.

You sat with Sasuke in his nest, watching him fuss over some pillows in the corner. He was wearing an oversized shirt, but you could still see his pregnant tummy pressing against the fabric when he moved in a certain way. You couldn’t resist.

Leaning over to him, you pushed up his shirt and uncovered his bump. You nuzzled into his stomach, pressing kisses into his skin as you went. You giggled against him when he froze.

Sasuke stiffened and then pushed your face away firmly. You fell backwards gently, knocking over a blanket that Sasuke had pinned to the wall. You both looked at each other in silence for a moment before Sasuke huffed in displeasure.

“You ruin everything in here, I don’t know why I let you in.” He growled, moving over to that corner to try and fix it.

You looked at him, playfully betrayed.

“You pushed me!”

“Because you deserved it, idiot.” Sasuke scoffed.

You pouted at him in reply, watching as he easily reattached the blanket.

“Are you mad at me?” You fake whined, opening your arms out for a hug.

“Tch,” He blushed, accepting your embrace. “Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.” You crooned, nuzzling him furiously. Sasuke accepted the affection with no complaint. He must be more tired than you thought.

You both dozed peacefully in each others embrace, basking in the comfort of Sasuke’s nest and the pleasant mingling of your scents.

Until Sasuke swore suddenly, pulling himself out of your arms and scaring you half to death.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” You panicked, hands flailing in an attempt to figure out what was wrong with him.

“Foot cramp.” Sasuke grunted between clenched teeth, hands starting to massage at his foot awkwardly. He couldn’t reach comfortably around his bump.

“Here, let me.” You quickly moved to sit at his feet, gently massaging while Sasuke let out pained hisses. You kept going until Sasuke had fully relaxed back into the pillows of his nest.

“Fucking foot cramps.” Sasuke sighed, pulling you back towards him, and trying to position you both back into your original position. Scarcely a few moments had passed before Sasuke groaned again.

“Now they decides to wake up.” He grumbles, shifting to lift up his shirt.

You watched in awe as your pup began to kick.

“This never gets old.” You whispered. “I can’t believe that’s our pup in there.”

“I wish they’d let me sleep.” Sasuke grumbled, a fond smile on his face nevertheless.

“Get comfortable and I’ll try to soothe the pup. Try to get some sleep, omega, you deserve it.”

TRIMESTER 3:

This is where Sasuke’s mental state starts to decline.

He has a very strong flight reflex when he gets overwhelmed, but obviously he can’t run away from being pregnant, so this just makes him more distressed.

Sasuke is a very light sleeper generally, and being pregnant means he is rarely comfortable enough to sleep properly, and sleep deprivation makes everything worse.

Sasuke ends up having so many breakdowns that he needs someone with him at all times to make sure he won’t accidentally hurt himself or the pup when he’s not in a good headspace.

Sasuke ends up being induced early to end the severe mental strain he is under.

You watched sadly as Sasuke sobbed pitifully on your bed. You had tried to help, but he threw a fit when you tried to touch him.

“I don’t want this anymore.” He sobbed. “I can’t-I can’t sleep, I’m too hot, everything hurts, I’m useless!” His hands started to shake.

“No, no, no, sweetheart.” You rushed over to him. “You’re okay, we’ll make it okay.”

“I want to get them out!” His hands started to twitch.

You intervened immediately, shifting his hands away from his stomach, just in case. Sasuke started to sob into your arms.

“Shh, omega.” You scented him, desperate to calm him down. You felt so powerless. “Do you want to come with me to your nest? Would that help?”

Sasuke shook his head desperately. “Too hot.”

You had an idea.

“A bath then? A nice cool one. I’ll join you and wash your hair for you, yes?”

Sasuke didn’t respond, but you made the decision for him.

Ten minutes later, you were lowering him into a cool bath, and climbing in behind him. Sasuke slumped against you, exhausted after his breakdown. You welcomed him into your embrace, running cool fingers up and down his arms.

“Better?” You whispered.

“Yeah.” He croaked back. “Sorry.”

“S’alright, my love. Just relax.”

You tenderly washed his hair for him, careful to keep shampoo out of his eyes. You smiled when Sasuke started to purr as you massaged his head, relieved that he was feeling better.

You then wiped him down with a cool flannel. When Sasuke began to shiver, you pulled the plug and helped him out of the bath. You dried his hair for him and fetched him an oversized shirt to wear. It was when you were entering back into the room that you suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, I totally forgot.” You leant down and pulled a long, thin pillow out from under your bed. “I bought this today.” You held it up for him to see. “It’s supposed to help you sleep when you’re pregnant.”

Sasuke took the pillow.

“How does it work?”

You laid him down and helped position the pillow, making sure to wrap it under his bump to support him. When you were done, it was immediately obvious that Sasuke was comfortable. He went boneless against the pillow, eyes already drooping, the dark circles under his eyes suddenly more apparent.

You slid into bed beside him, careful not to crowd and overheat him. Instead, you took his hand in yours, rubbing the back with your thumb.

“We’ll go to the hospital tomorrow.” You began. “See if they can induce you early.”

“’kay.” He replied, half-asleep.

You pressed a gentle kiss against his mating mark.

“Sleep tight, my omega.”

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writingsbychlo · 4 years ago

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smoke and fire (04b)

word count; 7050

summary; you wait hours for news on the young boy, and when the results are finally in, it looks like a breakthrough with thomas might be on the horizon.

notes; this is the second half of part four since it got so long, hope you guys enjoy!

warnings; reference to injury.

Trying to make yourself a little calmer, and distract yourself from how you were feeling, you peeled the gloves from your hands, dropping them in the nearest trash can and searching to find some toilets. The mirror did not offer you a reflection you were proud to see, tear-stained cheeks that cut through sweat-caked dust in tracks, messy hair and red eyes; like picturesque misery.

There was blood on the clean fabric of your button-up shirt, and your medical bag held little that would be able to help, but you were sure you could at least make a start. Holding your hand under the dispenser for soap, the soft humming made by the machine as it deposited a small pile of foam into your hand was enough to break the rigid silence, and you let out a slow breath. Logically, you knew it wasn’t your fault that he was injured, the boy was almost an adult, he was old enough to make his own decisions, and yet you’d let yourself become attached, you’d tried to offer him advice that had backfired, and so you couldn't help but feel partly responsible.

The water ran pink as your skin was cleared, before shaky fingers were coming up to undo the buttons along your top. The long-sleeve top worn underneath wasn’t the warmest of items, but it was better than sitting in a blood-soaked shirt, and so you folded the crisp white uniform up carefully, tucking it into your bag and letting out a sigh. With hands cupped under the cold water tap, you let your palms fill, before leaning over the sink and splashing your face carefully with the water, rubbing away the grime and salt present on your skin until it felt fresh and clean once again.

Your eyes were still lined with red and your throat was still raw, but both of those would begin to fade as you finally began to get a hold of yourself once again. Your head was hurting, both inside and outside, the tight ponytail your hair was pulled up into made your scalp ache as you released it, and you rubbed your fingers gently through the strands to try and soothe that pain, making a note to find some water for your oncoming headache soon.

Finally, it was enough, hair flailing loose around your shoulders once again and skin clean, at least feeling a little more comfortable than you had, and as you patted down the pockets of your bag, you found your phone again, grateful that Newt must’ve tucked it in there when he’d gone back to the van for you, because you were sure you’d left it on the dash. There was a text from Newt, just having arrived back at the station, saying that he'd spoken to Vince and everything was cleared up, while Brenda had also left a text saying she was hoping that both you and the boy were okay.

A voice cleared in front of you, snapping your attention away from where you were trying to think of how to reply, clicking your phone off and looking away to find the source of the disturbance. Allison was standing before you, a gown on her body and a scrub cap on her head, but she’d shed the mask and gloves, for now, smiling a little as she began to undo the ties behind her back and neck.

“I came to give you a little update about what’s going on.”

“Already? It’s only been, what, forty minutes?” Panic flared up inside of you once again at the speed at which she was emerging, but the soft smile and a chuckle she gave to you was reassurance enough.

“Don’t worry, the kid is doing alright. Doctor Hale is great at his job, and it’s all going smoothly.” You rubbed your hands down along your pants, clearing sweaty palms and standing up to be the same height as her. “He’ll be going into the ICU after this, so why don’t you walk with me now and I’ll take you up to that waiting room, it's a little more comfortable and private than the corridors.”

“He’s going to be alright, then?”

“He’s going to be just fine.” She confirmed, waiting a second for you to grab your bag and swing it onto a shoulder, before she was setting off through the halls again, guiding you as she made her way towards the elevator. “He lost a fair amount of blood, but we’ve got him on some bags now, and his levels are steadying again, he’s starting to get some colour back, so we’re happy with that process, and his heartbeat is stronger.”

You watched as she pressed the button to signal the machine, silver doors reflecting back at you, and you felt positively exhausted as you slumped upon hearing the good news, tensions and adrenaline finally being able to slip away. “What about his legs?”

“Well, we won’t know much about any of it until he wakes up, and we can test his response to stimulus when the drugs in his system wear off and we can replace the anaesthetic with general medication, but the shattered leg has been set and is due to be wrapped in a cast, it’s all we can do, but it isn’t looking the best on the outcome.”

You winced, knowing there was nothing more you could have done, but you still hated to know what the repercussions might be. The elevator ride was silent, as was the walk to the waiting room, and yet none of it was uncomfortable, she was simply a companion at your side who had brought you a little peace, and when you were of a more stable and clear mindset next time, you’d thank her properly for being so kind to you, and make a better effort to get to know the nurses here, but right now, you didn’t have the right headspace for anything other than taking it ten minutes at a time.

“There’s not much more we can do now, it’s all about recovery, really. You did some great work out there, we’ve cleaned and applied new stitches to his wounds, I did it myself, and I promise they won’t burst any time soon.” You nodded your head, trying to absorb all the information that you could, but your mind was spinning, only focusing on the fact that he was going to be okay. “We’ll keep him in the hospital for a while, and check on him, his head has been patched up, luckily it was a crack and it hadn't splintered, so we’re happy with that.”

“When he comes out, will I be able to see him?”

“Yes, you can.” She turned to smile at you now, holding the doors open to a much nicer, and empty waiting room, you being the only person here, nobody flying past busily, phones ringing and conversations being had, it was calm and serene, and exactly what you needed. “Doctor Hale is going to come and talk to you more comprehensively himself while they get him all set up, and it shouldn’t take too long for the anaesthetic to wear off. As soon as he wakes up, we can get him started on some real painkillers that won’t knock him out.”

“Excellent.” You sighed, brushing yourself off for invisible dirt a story anxiety took over, before looking back to her. “Thank you so much, I can’t even tell you how much it all means to me.”

“It’s no trouble, truly.” She placed a comforting hand on your arm, squeezing lightly. “You’re one of our own. Derek, uh, Doctor Hale, he feels like he really owes the fire department, so he would do pretty much anything for you all. House ‘21 was one of the firehouses involved in saving his family when there was a house fire. He has a big family, and he almost lost them a few years ago, this is the least he can do, he feels.”

You had no idea, you’d never been anywhere long enough to reap the seeds of good acts so far down the line, but you felt proud just to be able to associate yourself with the team, to be a member of Firehouse ‘21, even if you hadn't been there for that event. They were a great team, a wonderful group of people, and you were proud to be associated with them. You weren’t sure how long it would last, but for the first time in a long time, your first thought wasn’t the next immediate escape route.

“I’m going to head back in there, now. It shouldn't be much longer.”

You nodded, watching as she walked away, and leaving you alone in the peacefulness of the waiting room. There was a table, stacked up with magazines and a water machine in the corner, chilled and humming slowly, and you made your way over towards that firstly. Taking one of the flimsy little cups, you held it under the nozzle, pushing on the button of the cold water, and watching as it filled up, the temperature making your fingers cool as it moved toward the top.

Taking it back over to one row of chairs, they were much more comfortable than the others, the hard plastic being replaced for soft cushioning, warm and inviting, and you slumped down into it. Shuffling through your bag, you were grateful to find the half-used try of painkillers you'd hidden in there for personal use, thanking a past version of yourself for thinking ahead, and popping two of the small tablets out, placed on your tongue and reaching for the cup. Several swigs of the water, until the cup was empty, washing them down and enjoying the cool feeling washing along your throat and soothing the burn, and you felt a little more refreshed immediately.

This time, as you filled it up, you took a moment to observe the room you were in. A small, ornamental water fountain sat on one of the counters, soft sounds of trickling water as you neared it, and it was relaxing just to be around, stacks of little pebbles to create a water fountain, and blue lights to make the pool of water seem clearer, you lips flicking up at the sides. There was a radio, it wasn’t turned on and you didn’t intend to do so, but you admired its place here, the room filled with things all around so that there was something to calm and relax every type of person, no matter what their comfort was, and as you settled back down into the seats, you found you weren't quite so stressed anymore.

Producing your phone from your pocket once again, you sipped at your water, the headache you had finally beginning to recede, and you replied to Brenda, a thumb swiping rapidly across the screen as you thanked her for her concern, and gave her an update that he was due out of surgery any time now. You replied to Newt too, once again thanking him profusely, as yet another batch of unrelated guilt began to make itself known, surfacing as you realised you’d just abandoned your partner to do all the work.

Neither of them replied, both messages being left on ‘read’, and you simply hoped that they were having fun with the team, getting to relax and destress after a long day, and they weren’t torturing themselves in the same way that you were.

The elevator chimed, not too far away, the other end of the corridor, and you paused. Following it, there was the sound of wheels, moving along the corridor, squeaking a little as a bed rattled, before fading away, and your heart leapt in your chest as you resisted the urge to stand up and look out, staying sat where you were. Your suspicions were confirmed, however, when the doors opened up, the doctor who you’d seen only a couple of hours ago appearing once again, and you pushed yourself up to your feet as fast as you could, meeting the doctor, who looked a little frazzled and worn out, but optimistic nonetheless.

“Doctor Hale, hi.”

He smiled a little, ducking his head. “You can call me Derek. I’m not your doctor.” Your cheeks heated a little bit, mumbling his name as you grew used to the feel of it in your mouth, and he cleared his throat. “So, you ready for that update?”

“Absolutely.” You confirmed, and he turned his body, placing a hand on your lower back and guiding you back towards the doors.

“How about I tell you on the way to the coffee machine, because I’m desperate for a double espresso, three times over.” You grinned, laughing lightly as you agreed, just the thought of such a drink making your mouth water, and you grabbed at your bag, swinging it onto one arm and letting it dangle as you followed behind him. He held the door open for you, guiding you through the halls, and you followed after him, falling into a comfortable pace beside one another. “First of all, do you happen to know his name? We can’t get anything up on file, and we can’t put him on medications until we know if he has allergies.”

“All I know is that he’s called Aaron, I think. He’s been here before, though, should be on file. I brought him in a couple of weeks ago for the injuries on his stomach.”

The man beside you nodded, taking the pen from his pocket and writing down the name on the back of his hand. “Alright, well, I’m pretty optimistic about how Aaron is doing. He’s all set up in an ICU room now, and as soon as he starts to come around, we can let you in to visit him. While you’re in there, we need you to try and get some contact details, his parents, anything like that, so we can try and get him on file, if we can’t find him in the system, but we have a lot of Aarons’.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“His leg is now in a cast, we set it as best we could, but there was more damage along his spine, so I’m not overly optimistic about that. I don’t know how bad the paralysis will be, but there’s definitely going to be some loss of movement there, he won’t make a full recovery, not from a fall like that with his injuries.” It wasn’t a surprise, you had been anticipating the worst, and so far, everything beyond being told he didn’t make it was just a blessing. Stopping before the coffee machine beside a nurses desk, the screen flashed to life as he swiped his card through the holder, greeting him with his ID on screen, and he began to program a selection of shots and syrups into the blend. “What are you having?”

“Oh, I don’t have a-”

“My treat, let me buy you a coffee. I get a doctor discount on it anyway.” You couldn't resist the charming smile he gave you, shrugging a little and laughing under your breath. “Alright, Derek, surprise me. I’m not that fussy.”

“I take that as a challenge.” He confirmed, setting to work on making your brew, and as the machine hummed to life, he returned to the topic of your patient. “We pumped his stomach, we ran a few tests and flushed his system out. You might not like me too much when I tell you this, but with the contents of his stomach and the harm he got into as a minor, with nobody here to explain it, I have contacted the police and child authorities.”

“I don’t blame you, Doc. I really don’t. All I want for this kid is the best in life, I encouraged him to get out of that whole gang-lifestyle, I feel responsible for him even being here, and I-” You cut yourself off as you realised you were rambling, your lips pursing shut, and the coffee maker beside you beeped. He grinned, picking up the second coffee and handing it over to you, but only after pressing a plastic lid onto the top of the coffee cup. Bringing it up to your nose, the sweet smell of delicate spices and warm coffee filled your nose, and you hummed happily at the delicious blend. “Thank you.”

“Just so you know, you saved that kid’s life. You brought him here and he’s safe, you’ve done the best you can, and you did great.” You sighed, blowing at the steam on your coffee and taking a moment, a few deep breaths, settling yourself in the moment. “When he wakes up and starts to surface, we’ll let you know. If you give me your details, I’ll keep you updated on how he does.”

“Sounds like you’re asking me for my number there, Doctor Hale?”

“I thought I told you to call me Derek.” He beamed, both of you knowing it was only a joke, before he was holding the pen from the pocket of his coat out for you and grabbing a piece of paper from the nurses stand. Placing down your coffee, you wrote down your name and number, handing it back over to him, and he looked at it for a moment, repeating your name, before putting it into his pocket. “You can head on back to the waiting room, and I’ll come and get you in a little while when he’s awake, and we’ve got him on something to keep the pain off.”

The device on his belt beeped, calling him away to another case, and he was leaving, a wave on his fingers as he picked up his coffee, and you were left to try and navigate your way back to the waiting room alone.

There were signs up along the walls, but every turn you took felt more confusing, muted coloured walls and total silence feeling more like your new norm as you navigate the maze of pathways, letting out a relieved sigh as you finally caught sight of the same doors you’d come through earlier. There was movement behind them, your heart sinking a little as you realised the peaceful loneliness you had was broken, but you knew other people would be here to visit their families.

Your bag would still be laying on the floor, where you’d left it before leaving to find coffee, and as you made you way back along, the people behind the glass became a little clearer. Blond hair, brown hair, strawberry and jet black. Pushing the door open, your jaw dropped a little as you looked across the group, all eyes turning to face you, and your heart raced in your chest.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re pausing movie night!” Chuck was almost yelling, his enthusiasm getting the better of him, and several members of the team shushed him, while others snickered. “Sorry. We’re pausing movie night.”

“I see that, but, uh, why?”

A few looks were shared among the team, and Newt sighed, standing to his feet from where he’d been lounging in your chair. “Because we’re your team, and we care about you. You’re here for the kid, and we’re here for you.”

He took your coffee from your hands, sniffling it, and winking a little before raising it up to take a sip. His eyes widened a little, before he was gulping down another mouthful, and you snatched it back with a protesting noise.

“That’s good coffee. Where can I get one of those?”

“Doctors only.” You mumbled, a sweet smile on your lips as you took a sip, and he stared at you for a second.

“Are you telling me you made a friend other than me? You really are getting comfortable here.”

You shook your head, pressing it back into his hands after another mouthful of coffee, gifting it to him. Brenda was holding her arms out to you, a sweet smile on her face as you paused for only a second, before falling into her arms and letting her wrap you up tightly. The moment you squeezed her back, there was another body wrapping around you, making the pair of you giggle as Chuck joined the hug, and you whined at the overwhelming heat that was encasing you when Newt joined in too.

Elbowing yourself free, you wriggled out, popping free and finding the rest of the team still wearing sweet smiles, all standing around and waiting patiently. “Thanks for coming, you guys, it really means a lot to me.”

Settling down with the company of your team, Newt slumped beside you, a backpack of his own on the floor, and he picked it up, roping it down on your lap, and the weight of it winded you a little.

“What was that for?”

“I brought you the clothes from your locker.” You raised a single brow, opening the bag and finding your hoodie and leggings inside, as well as your more comfortable trainers than the ones you wore to work, a little sigh leaving you. “Figured you’d want to be comfy, and you smell a little bit musty and bloody.”

Lifting the edge of your top to your nose, you took a whiff, faint traces being picked up, nothing overwhelming, but it certainly was present. Everybody else had changed their clothes as they left their kit at work, or went home to shower, but no matter what, you appreciated it all.

“So, you gonna’ give us a little update on the kid?”

“Oh, yeah.” You wiped at your nose, feeling yourself get a little emotions, before pulling one leg up under yourself and turning to face him. “So, he’s doing alright. They’re worried about his legs, and they pumped his stomach, but they’re confident about his recovery and they’ve put a cast on his leg. He’s out of surgery now, they’re waiting for him to wake up.”

“What about his parents? They got in touch with them, right?”

“They haven’t got any information on him yet.” You sighed, rubbing at your forehead. “They want me to go in and ask him to give up his information as soon as he wakes up.”

“Well, look alive, because here comes a white coat with determination. A good looking one at that, dark hair, tall, I would be all over that if-”

“Newt!” You hissed, the door opening, and he laughed himself into silence as he brought the coffee to his lips. Standing up, you gave him the bag back, making sure to drop it into his lap with equal the force he’d dropped onto yours, and he spluttered a little, glaring at you and kicking his leg out at you as you walked to meet the doctor. “He’s awake?”

“Yes, he is.” Derek spun on his heel, the two of you walking away towards the main doors, and you turned over your shoulder to scowl at your partner for the kick, a sugary-sweet and sly grin on his lips as you scoffed. “A lot of your friends have shown up, huh?”

“They’re my team, they came to support me.”

“Hey, I think it’s sweet.” He shrugged, guiding you along the halls. “So, he’s in a little pain, nothing awful yet as he’s still waking up, so he’s a sort of woozy. Focus on asking him his last name, if we can pull up his account we can see his allergies and get him some meds, but if he doesn't want to give it up, we need to know about the medicines.”

“What do I tell him when he starts asking questions?”

“We’re going to test his reflexes as soon as we get his medicine sorted but before it kicks in, though they may not be fully comprehensive on the total movement and reflex he can get back.” He stopped outside of the door, and peering in through the glass, you could see the young boy. The hair from the top of his head was shaved away, around the sides too, black locks were gone and bandaging wrapping his head. He was clad in a gown, and the blankets were tucked up around his body, staring up at the rod as he frowned, looking entirely displaced. “Press the button on the side of his bed when you’re ready for us to come in, I’ll wait at the nurses’ station.”

“Thanks, Derek.”

He dipped his head in a nod, taking a step back, and you entered the room. He lifted his head slowly, confusion on his features for a second as you clicked the door shut, before he was huffing again.

“Hey, kiddo, how you feelin’?”

“I don’t know.” He mumbled, words a little slurred, and you took a seat beside his bed, pulling the chair over, and his head rolled from one side to the other, cheek pressing to the pillow to look at you, but his gaze was unfocused. “My arm is itchy.”

“That’s just your drip line for meds, you’ll be fine.” He made a shocked face, as though you’d reveal the secrets of the universe to him, before his face was screwing up again.

“I hurt a bit too. Everywhere.”

“I know, and we can get you some meds, alright?” He nodded his head, silence falling around you both again, and he was using one hand to scratch at the bedding, toying with the loose thread in the beige blanket, and sighed. “You gonna’ tell me your last name, so we can get you registered and checked in on the system?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll call my foster parents.” Your heart stopped for a moment in your chest, and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse for him, you found out the poor kid was in the system, no wonder he’d turned to family wherever he could get it. “I don’t want them to know.”

“Don’t you think they’re worried? You’re going to be here for a while.”

“They’ll be disappointed in me.” He whispered, and you reached out, taking the young boy’s hand in your own, and squeezing lightly. “They’ll bring my little sister, she thinks I’m brave and strong.”

“And she’ll still think that!” He huffed, rolling his eye sin denial and tuning to stare back up at the ceiling. “I get how it feels to not want to let someone down, and to feel alone. I have moved between so many firehouses to find my home, and I’m still looking. I have, like, no friends outside of work.”

“What about your blond friend?”

“He’s a work friend, that doesn't count.” You teased, and he turned to look at you again.

“Do you hang out outside of work?” You paused, thinking on the people who were filling the waiting room right now, simply to support you, and you wondered if that counted, but the boy seemed to be going on anyway; “See, outside friends.”

“Alright, smart ass, the point is that I understand how you feel, and you should let me call your parents, so that you can have people who love you here with you. What do you say?” He was quiet, the moment dragging on, and as the cogs in the clock ticked loudly, the ‘second’ hand moving around, and as the third minute of silence passed you by, you gave up on any hope, You wondered if he’d fallen asleep, his eyes having slipped shut, and you squeezed his hand a little, his hand squeezing back after a few moments, signalling he was awake.

“Edge.”

“Huh?” You perked up a little, your elbow having been resting on the bed to support your head on your fist, before you were moving to look up at him.

“My name is Aaron Edge. I’m already in the system, I had asthma as a kid.” You cheered a little, reaching around for the handle instantly and pressing the button for the nurse’s desk.

“I’m so proud of you, kiddo.” The door opened a second later, a short red-head nurse escorting Doctor Hale, his brows raising a little as they came in, and you gave him a subtle nod. “This is Aaron Edge, and he’d love some painkillers now.”

“We’ll get that sorted out. This is nurse Martin, she’ll be looking after you, Mr Edge.” She left the room a second later, heading away to get it sorted out, and the doctor took a step closer to the bed. “How are you feeling, big guy? You gave us a scare there, but you're brave, and I know you’re going to be just fine.”

“I have a headache, and I feel itchy. Is that just my nerves?”

He tried to push himself up a little in the bed, his arms giving way under the pressure, and you moved, helping him sit up so you could position his pillows behind him to help him sit up. “Well, actually, that’s the beginning of the withdrawal. It’s not going to be great, but you’re young. We can get you in a great rehab program, and whatever you were on we can get you off. You’re young, you still have prospects ahead of you. It’ll be a tough road, you think you can do it?”

His hand tightened around yours once again, and he turned, vulnerability written on his face. You gave him a nod, and he stared at you for a second longer, before returning to give those same gestures to the doctor.

“Now, I just need to run a final test, alright?” Producing the pen from his pocket, he lifted up the blanket to reveal both of the boy’s feet, and held the end to the pen, never popping the button to reveal the inked tip. “Relax your foot for me.”

He did so and he dragged the tip of the pen up along the sensitive underfoot, everything still for a second, before his toes twitched, and you let out a little cheer, the boy in the bed jumping in shock. “What?”

“You still have movement in that foot?”

“Did I not before?” He panicked, sitting up further to peer down at his legs, and it seemed that in his drowsy state, he was only just becoming aware of the cast wrapped around his leg. “What about the other one?”

The cast sealed over most of his foot, but Derek reached down with the pen, dragging it along the space under his toes, and there was no movement. He did it again, still no reaction, and you nibbled on your lower lip. “Tell me when you feel something?”

Moving the blanket from his body, his leg was exposed, the cast ending just below his knee. He poked at the knee cap, then a rough inch further up, moving in inch segments as you waited, before his leg finally flinched just after the pen pressed over his mid-thigh.

“Well, we can get you into some physical therapy, and see how the healing of your leg goes, and what happens after that.”

Tucking the pen back away, the red-headed nurse entered the room once again, a needle and a small glass jar in her hand, and she was ready to add some medicine to the bag for him. “I’ve called your family, and they’re on their way. I’ve got some medicine for you now.” You squeezed his hand again lightly, letting go as the nurse moved to start setting him up a new line for his medicine, and Derek was busy filling out details on the chart that sat at the end of his bed.

“I’m going to go back to my team now, alright?” The kid turned to look at you, nodding his head slowly. “You keep your promise this time, alright? I believe in you, do it for your little sister. Be better.”

“Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome, kiddo.”

You ran your hand over his cheek, giving him a gentle smile. As the medicine began to kick in, nurse Martin began to talk to Aaron about his family, and what had been said on the phone, and for the third time tonight, you were navigating the ICU wing halls. Stepping back into the waiting room, all eyes turned to you again, brows raising, and you nodded, shoulders slumping in relief.

“He’s going to be okay, and his family is on the way.”

A chorus of cheers took up around the room, and you nodded your head watching as they all began to get to their feet, coming over to offer their congratulations and comforts about how worried you’d been, and how much better you must be feeling, which was completely true.

Newt cupped your face, pressing a large and wet kiss to your forehead, and you scowled, wiping the mark on your skin. “I think you need a drink, love.”

“Kenny’s Bar?” Gally offered, and a series of acknowledgements and agreements going up around the room. You’d heard them talking about that bar before, it seemed to be a house favourite but you’d never been along with them before, and it felt like some kind of initiation ritual or rite of passage.

“You should go and change first. Get comfy, I’ll wait for you.”

“Actually, if you guys go on ahead, I’ll wait.” Thomas stood to the side, scratching at the back of his neck as he met your eye, shrugging a little before looking around the small group gathered around you, who seemed equally as shocked as you were. “Seriously, I mean it. We have some things to talk about.”

“We do?” You questioned dumbly, and he fixed you with a pointed look, before you nodded your head. “Right, sure, yeah, okay. I can work with that, I guess. I mean, if you don’t see me in the next twelve hours, you know who I was with last.”

“Uh-huh.” Newt eyes his friend sceptically, the two seeming to have a silent conversation all with that eye contact, before Newt was rounding everyone up. “Go get changed, don’t take too long, we’ll see you soon.”

He hugged you gently, before guiding the rest of the team out of the building, pats on your arm and squeezes of your hand as they all passed by and discussed who would be designated drivers and drop everyone else at home, each discussing driving their cars home and coming along to collect them as they went. You waved Newt’s bag at Thomas a little, jabbing a thumb over your shoulder, and he nodded his head, tension forming between you both as you slipped away to find the bathrooms.

You were already learning your way around the halls of this building well, locating them easily enough, and stepping inside. Pulling out the contents of the beg, you sealed yourself inside one of the cubicles, putting the lid down and taking a seat on top of it. Toeing off your shoes and leaving them on the floor, you were wiggling out of your crisp uniform trousers, slipping into your leggings, bouncing as you tugged them up your legs and wiggling as you got comfortable. With some simple sneakers and your hoodie on, you were feeling much more relaxed and comfortable.

Stuffing everything else inside of the bag, you zipped it up, heading back to the waiting room, and finding Thomas with his hands shoved into his pockets, your bag on his shoulder, and he offered you what looked only mildly like a forced smile as you made your presence known.

“Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He nodded his head, letting you go through the door first as you stepped into the halls and back towards the elevator, total silence sitting in the space between you both. As he pressed the button, it was almost immediately ready for you, and you stood on opposite sides of the box as you waited for the doors to close again and sink back to the lobby. “So is this the part where you decide the hatred is too much, and actually kill me?”

He laughed, a lightweight and short, but genuine, laugh. Looking up to you, he shook his head a little, amusement still sparking in his eyes. “I don’t hate you. I mean, I don’t necessarily like you, but that's because I don’t know you, and I didn’t really give myself the chance. We got off on the wrong foot, and that's partially my fault.”

“It’s mostly your fault.”

“It’s, like, fifty percent my fault!” He argued, and you clicked your tongue, shaking your head.

“Ninety.”

“Seventy-five.”

“Fine.” You huffed, surrendering to the deal again, and he gave a toothy grin. “Go on with what you were saying.”

The doors chimed as they opened up, and you fell into step beside him as the two of you began to head towards the doors to the building, letting him guide you as he headed towards his car, trying to form his words, and you waited patiently. “Look, the point is, I know you’ve been a good partner to Newt. Especially today. You went down there to look after that kid because you knew Newt couldn't take it, and while he’d never admit that to either of us, we both know it’s true.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We flipped a coin, and I lost.”

“Do you always flip winning sides over to take a loss?” He questioned, clicking his keys as the sleek black car came into view, and your face flushed with warmth, not having known anyone else had seen that. “Exactly my point. I know I’ve given you a hard time. I have my reasons, okay? It fucking sucks, and no, I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe you understand, maybe you don’t, but I’m trying to apologise, okay?”

He held the door open for you, the passenger seat readily available, and you dropped your bag into the footwell, standing in the way but not taking a seat as you stared up at him. “Okay. I forgive you. I probably shouldn't have been so uptight, but I was hurt too, and I didn’t take that well, so I guess this is me apologising as well.”

“So, we’re cool, now?”

“Sure.”

He nodded, the two of you staring at each other for a moment longer, and that same dreadfully awkward tension settled over the part of you as neither of you knew quite what to say. Just because you’d called a ceasefire, didn’t mean that there was a sudden connection, it didn't mean that pain and resentment were gone immediately, it just meant that you had agreed to process and move on from it together, instead of dwelling and letting it fester. “Her name was Teresa.”

“What?”

Your eyes snapped back up to his face, but he was staring at the ground, arms resting on top of the door, and he was picking at his nails. “The last paramedic, the reason I was so mad.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it?”

“I owe you an explanation, so I guess I’m forcing myself to.” He sighed, running a hand through already messy hair. “She was.. a wildcard. Passionate and funny and just this real source of energy, you know? Kinda’ like you. She skipped out on us all of a sudden before shift one day, a better offer somewhere else, she didn’t tell us, but she just up and left. I was hurt, I thought I meant something to her.”

“I’m sorry, Thomas..”

“No, I am. Because all my suffering was emotional. She was Newt’s partner, he had to try and handle a case on his own because we couldn't get a replacement in before a call came, and that's the day he injured his leg. He fell through a couple of burning floors, top to bottom of the building, shattered his leg like that kid. Nobody knew where he was, he had no partner to call it in. Minho found him, unconscious from smoke inhalation and carried him out.” He let out a shaky breath, and you dared to reach out, placing a hand over his as they sat joined, and squeezing lightly. “I don’t blame myself for the accident, it had nothing to do with me. But, for whatever your own reasons are, I know you’ve jumped between houses a lot, and I was worried about Newt again. He’s my best friend.”

“I promise you, I won’t ever do that.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think Teresa would either, but then a better offer came along.” He sighed, lifting a thumb to rest over one of your fingers and stroke lightly as he sought his one comfort from your touch, and you squeezed his hands once again. “I shouldn't have compared you to her, and I’m sorry. It was unfair, I don’t even know you.”

Quit consumed you both once again, and there was nothing else to be said, only the weight of his confession hanging in the air, before you were perking up a little, realising how to gently move on and bring his mood back up. “You any good at pool?”

“Uh, what?”

“You know, pool. In bars. Does this bar have one?” You encouraged, his eyes meeting yours again and brows furrowing with confusion.

“Yeah, it does.”

“Well, you said you didn’t know anything about me. First thing to learn is that I’m amazing at pool.” He stood up a little more, smiling softly as he took your bait to move on from the conversation, and there was a slight twinkle of mischief in those honey-brown eyes. “Winner buys drinks?”

“Alright, I’ll take that deal, but only if we play darts afterwards. At which I will kick your ass, because I am fucking great at it.”

“You’re on, Thomas.” He chuckled, letting you step into the car and shutting the door behind you, the conversation being stored away for now, to think about when you were alone and process the details, but for now, you had bonding to do, with your teammates; for the first time yet, you genuinely considered the possibility of setting up roots somewhere, and making real friends that would last.

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

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spencers-renaissance · 4 years ago

Text

Forgotten Paperwork

Summary: Spencer gives Aaron a blow job under his desk and then gets off in his lap. Somehow sweet in between the filth.

Tags: smut, 18+, kink list under the cut

Pairing: Hotch x Reid

Word Count: 1.7k

Read on AO3

Kink List: top/dom aaron, bottom/sub spencer, blow jobs, hand jobs, face-fucking, humiliation, degradation, dirty talk, aftercare

“Aaron?” Spencer calls, voice thick with sleep. He’d woken up after only a few hours in bed to find the other side still cold. Despite his promises, his boyfriend had clearly not made it to bed yet. He pads his way through the apartment, poking his nose in the bathroom and kitchen before he enters the living room, where Aaron is sat at the desk where he’d left him hours ago, still ploughing his way through paperwork.

He looks up as Spencer walks in, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as he tries to wake himself up. “Baby, you okay?” he asks, brow furrowed in concern as he puts down his pen and pushes his chair out slightly to turn and face his boyfriend properly.

“Woke up and you weren’t there,” Spencer pouts, walking over to the desk.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he sighs, glancing back at the casefiles and forms and reports littering the small desk. “This is proving much more complicated than I thought.”

Spencer hums at that, swivelling Aaron’s chair around fully and climbing into his lap, settling into the familiar position. “Maybe you need a distraction,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a soft but insistent kiss to his lips.

“Well, darling, I’m not really sure that’s your call,” Aaron says, unable to resist the small smile that flitters across his face at his boyfriend’s face, however stern he might try and be. “Is it?” He reaches up and runs his fingers through Spencer’s hair, tugging just a little and relishing in the breathy moan it elicits from the man in his lap.

“No, Sir,” Spencer whimpers. “Sorry.” He’s already fidgeting, turned on so quickly by any display of authority from Aaron, just from the intimacy of being so close to him.

“That’s alright, darling,” Hotch soothes, deliberately patronising. “You don’t know any better. Why don’t you slide on under the desk and be a good boy for me, suck me off? How does that sound?”

Spencer just hums in response, pressing another kiss to Aaron’s lips before he slips off his lap and situates himself under the desk. It’s a bit cramped and uncomfortable but he’ll be too far gone to notice before long; the headspace he goes into when Aaron’s cock is in his mouth no match for a little discomfort. Aaron undoes his trousers and pulls his cock from his underwear, before crudely grabbing the back of Spencer’s head and pushing him down. “You get me off and maybe I’ll let you cum, as well,” he says, voice so infuriatingly disaffected as he picks his pen back up and resumes the report he was working on.

Wasting no time, Spencer immediately takes as much as Aaron as he can, practically impaling himself on his boyfriend’s generous cock as he feels the world fade into fuzzy nothingness. The weight of a cock on his tongue has always been able to tip him over the edge; there’s something so masculine and filthy about it that he can’t help but fidget, arousal swelling in his belly. He pulls back a little to focus on the head, drawing patterns with his tongue in just the way he knows makes Aaron go crazy. As much as his boyfriend remaining stoic during sex can be sexy, there’s something to be said for making him lose it, fucking into him erratically or moaning wantonly.

“Good boy,” Aaron says, shifting his hips forward just a bit to fuck further into Spencer’s mouth.

God, the praise gets him off. Feeling like he’s a good boy because he’s on his knees, in his place, making his boyfriend feel good is what makes him go crazy. Saliva gathers in his mouth and covers his lips as he bobs up and down, but the messiness of a blow job is part of the reason he likes it, when Aaron teases him and makes fun of him, when he looks so thoroughly debauched.

It’s not long before Aaron gets sick of letting Spencer take control and fucks forward, tangling his hand in Spencer’s hair and pressing deep into his throat. He ignores it when Spencer chokes a bit, knowing just how much they both love it and trusting him to tap out if needed, instead pressing back in to do it again, relishing the contractions of his throat against his cock.

The paperwork is soon forgotten, instead putting all his energy into fucking Spencer’s face, turning him into the messy little boy he is. “God, Spencer, this is just what you’re made for isn’t it,” he groans, pulling his chair back a bit so he can take the full picture in. “Dirty slut, just gagging for it.”

Spencer’s palming his cock through his loose pajama bottoms, knowing that’s all Aaron will allow, unable to stop the high pitched moans escaping his mouth in between thrusts as his words get to him.

“Fuck, you’re a whore, aren’t you?” he says. “Could keep you like this all day and you wouldn’t be satisfied. Could put you under my desk and have a go at you for hours, pass you around to the others, oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you? God, you’d let anyone have a go at your filthy mouth. This is all it’s good for, pleasing the people who use it.”

Spencer’s surprised he hasn’t cum in his pants yet, eyes rolling to the back of his head as Aaron knows exactly the words that will get them both off. It’s just a fantasy really, the idea of something like that happening in real life is far too humiliating to genuinely consider, but it does it for him in the moment.

“Ah, Spencer, fuck.” Aaron cums with a low moan as he presses himself as far as possible down Spencer’s throat, relishing the spasms that milk his cock dry. He pulls out as soon as he’s finished, crouching down in front of Spencer and pulling him up and back into his lap. “You’re such a good boy, baby, well done. Got me off so good, didn’t you?”

Spencer just presses his face into Aaron’s neck, still squirming from his own arousal. “Love you,” he says, voice completely wrecked from the hard face fucking he’s just had.

“I love you more, sweetheart,” Aaron promises, running a far gentler hand through his hair. “Now, I think my boy deserves a reward for being so good, doesn’t he?”

Spencer pulls his head from it’s position on Aaron’s shoulder at that, eyes glassy and wide. “Really?” he asks, deep in a spacey bubble that only includes the two of them.

“Of course,” Aaron chuckles fondly reaching into Spencer’s pajama bottoms to fist his cock gently. “This little cock deserves to cum, I think. Just this once, though. We don’t want it getting greedy, do we?”

“No,” Spencer agrees vehemently. Aaron treating Spencer like his cock isn’t as worthy as his own twists something deep in his belly, weakening his resolve as he hardens even further.

Aaron grabs the small bottle of lube he keeps in the desk drawer, a testament to just how frequently nights like these occur, and squirts a little into his palm before going back to fiddling with Spencer’s cock. He winces at the cold, but the shock is welcome and makes him squirm even more, desperate for whatever his boyfriend chooses to give him.

“Mm, sir, please,” he begs, thrusting into the touches Aaron’s giving him, resting his head back on his shoulder where he can feel as close to his boyfriend as possible, pressed up against one another in every way they can be.

“Patience, baby,” Aaron coos softly, sliding his hand down his balls and perineum to press a teasing finger to his hole. It’s a wonder he doesn’t cum on the spot. “Good things come to boys who wait.”

“Sorry, Sir,” he whimpers, tilting his lips up slightly to kiss gently at Aaron’s neck, enjoying the appreciative sigh he gives out at the sensation.

“How close are you, Spence?” he asks, pressing his finger a little deeper as his other hand comes to rest firmly on Spencer’s waist, sliding his hand under his top and savouring the small frame and soft skin under his palm, wondering for a brief moment how he got so lucky.

“Close,” he moans, leaning into his touch.

“Mm, that’s because you’re a dirty boy isn’t it,” Aaron murmurs, lips close to his ear. He darts out his tongue and licks the shell of his ear, causing a full body shiver in Spencer.

“Yes,” Spencer pants. “So dirty.”

“I know,” Aaron hums. “That’s why you need me, isn’t it sweetheart? I look after you, make sure my baby boy is taken care of.”

“Yeah, you take care of me so well,” Spencer whines, twisting in Aaron’s lap as his hand slides back up to his dick, palming him harder and faster as he senses his incoming climax.

“Make yourself messy for me, sweetheart,” Aaron whispers, right into his ear again. “Cum in your pajama bottoms like the dirty boy you are, like the little slut you are, fucking into my fist like a desperate whore.”

It’s what’s needed to tip him over the edge and he comes with a whine, writhing in Aaron’s lap, as he holds him close and steady, murmuring praises as he works him through his orgasm.

“Thank you,” Spencer says, once he’s finally come down, still a little hazy from the intensity of what’s just been.

“You’re very welcome, baby,” Aaron smiles, wiping his lubed up fingers on Spencer’s pajamas since they’ll need to be washed anyway and bringing a finger to comb through his curls. “Why don’t we get you to bed.”

“No, don’t want to leave you,” Spencer whines, lifting his head to look him in the eye, feeling clingy and subby still.

“Hey, I’ll come with you, it’s alright,” Aaron soothes, running a thumb over his cheekbone.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Aaron carries him to bed, lovingly cleaning him up with a gentle cloth and a bit of soap before tossing him some new pajamas and dashing into the bathroom to use the toilet and brush his teeth, cleaning himself up. He heads back to the bedroom to see Spencer steadfastly waiting for him, even though he knows there’s probably nothing he wants more than to go to sleep, and he smiles fondly, heart melting at how adorable his boyfriend is.

He climbs under the duvet and quickly arranges Spencer so he’s lying against his chest, nosing his face against his shoulder in just the way he likes. It’s warm and comfortable, and it isn’t long before they’re both dropping off to sleep, safe in the closeness of being in one another’s arms.

#criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #criminal minds smut #bottom spencer #top hotch #smut #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #my writing #hotchreid #spencer #hotch #aaron hotchner x spencer reid #heid

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hitchell-mope · 4 years ago

Text

(Third film. After “losing your memory”. Devie are back in their room and Evie looks beyond haunted. Doug is trying to calm her down but it’s not working)

Evie: why didn’t it work?

Doug: I really couldn’t tell you

Evie: of course I know why it didn’t work. I mean it should’ve worked and it didn’t. I still feel the same. I’m still angry. Why am I still angry? You saw me. I was bawling my eyes out.

Doug: the best I can tell you is that your feelings of abandonment aren’t rooted in unknowing. Perhaps. It’s not him you’re sad for. Maybe you’re just sad about what could’ve been. What you could’ve had. With him and Hadie

Evie: they’re going to be wanting an answer

Doug: so you tell them the truth

(In the kitchen)

Mal: you realise you have meat pulp around your face and on your nose right?

Ben: do I? Hm. (He wipes his mouth and nose with the back on his hand, sniffs it, shrugs and licks off). Better? What’s wrong?

Mal (eyes wide as dinner plates): absolutely nothing wrong at all.

Ben (giggling dorkily): ok

Evie (walking hurriedly into the kitchen): I watched the memory. And I have something to say. (Her father and brother look at her hopefully). I’m not ready to forgive you. I might never be ready. But I am willing to takes very small steps into letting you be apart of my life. You just have to let me set the tone. Alright? If not. Then I want nothing to do with either of you and Mal can keep keep you both. Capisce?

Hades: that sounds more then fair.

Hadie: yes. Much more then either of us deserve. Could I have the hat back now?

Evie: take it. Oh! By the way. I might have interfered with the memory a little bit.

Hades: OH! So that was you then. Your spell work is very impressive Evie

Evie: thank you. I think

(Gil is watching from the doorway. Happy to see his family is somewhat getting along, he goes to the living room and flops down next to Lonnie who’s being used as a human pillow by Jane)

Lonnie: you ok?

Gil: yeah. I like it when they’re happy.

Lonnie: you like it when everyone’s happy

Gil: yah cause it’s the greatest emotion evah (Lonnie quietly snorts). It makes a change from when I first got here though. Remember that. Everyone was so sweet to me. But I could tell I got on their nerves

Lonnie: you could never get on anyone’s nerves. It was just a...really weird time for everyone. Belle was trying to get Adam to agree to the divorce. Ben was ordering Uma’s statue. The memorial was being planned. But you always took precedent. You know that. Right?

Gil: yeah. I just don’t like that I made everyone feel they needed to devote all that time to me. I was really difficult to teach. And I cried a lot

Lonnie: never be ashamed of crying. It’s perfectly healthy.

Gil: I know that now. But remember who my birth father is. One misty eye and it was a punch in the face. But at least mom helped me unlearn all of that.

Lonnie: yeah. (Chuckling). Remember, remember that one time after your first month here

Gil (joining her in chuckling): oh god the car. Doug was so sweet. I can tell what Evie sees in him. Whew. That was. That was a good day.

Lonnie: yeah, yeah it was.

(Flashback time. One month after Gil arrives in Auradon. He’s been officially adopted by Belle. And now Doug is trying to teach him to drive. Belle watches out the window of her quarters as Doug and Gil swaps seats. This is when “strange sight” happens. A few weeks after tne song. Belle trudges back into her office. Elsa’s there at her desk, waiting for her)

Belle (wearily): please get out of my chair.

Elsa: only one in this office I can sit in without fixing it. Chocolate liqueur?

Belle: please. (She takes twenty). You will not believe the day I just had

Elsa: Mal filled me in. Some people just can’t take the hint

Belle: I don’t want money, Ben’ll be eighteen soon so I don’t need custody, I just want him out.

Elsa: about that. I, uhm, got bored, and I rifled through the papers you so carelessly left out on the desk and I found something that might be of interest to you. Here you go (she hands Belle a piece of paper) you own the school.

Belle: I know that. I had to twist his arm to let me sign it in my name

Belle: yes. And while you may not need custody or money, you still need to protect what’s yours.

Belle: he could come after the school.

Elsa: precisely.

(Belle flops down onto a couch. Elsa goes to the wet bar)

Belle: he wasn’t always like this you know. He used to be good. But being elected. It warped him. And I can’t

Elsa: it’s not your fault, here, drink. You changed him from beast to man. But he’s still a selfish brat deep down. Nothing you or anyone could’ve done would’ve changed that.

Belle: I know. It’s just

Elsa: irritating? Yah. I got that. You need to take you’re mind off of all this

Belle: what do you suggest?

Elsa: what did carlos make for you’re birthday last week?

Belle: immersive karaoke machine. Why?

Elsa (proofing the machine into the room): pick the song. Unwind. Then wring your ex’s neck

Belle: anything by Beyoncé. Mal got my interest piqued

Elsa: she was a very impressive entertainer

(Elsa clicks the numbers in and everything gets set up. This is when “if I were a boy” happens. After the song. Mal pops her head around the door)

Mal: asset dividing went well I see? Good song choice

Elsa: thank you dear.

Belle: anything wrong Mal?

Mal: nope. Just enjoying the show. Oh. And the WI Dinner. Scorpio room alright?

Belle: should be more then adequate. Is that all?

Mal: no I don’t think so. Just. Don’t worry about Auradon Prep. You’ll think of something. You always do.

Belle: thank you dear. I like the fringe by the way.

Mal: you would be the fourth

Belle: beg pardon?

Mal: well Ben, mom, Gil, and now you. Four. Jay and Carlos tease. Evie’s threatening to shave me bald in my sleep. Doug has no opinion. Dizzy thinks it’d look better on her. And Lonnie and Jane think it makes me look like a soccer mom

Elsa: well then...uh...

Mal: nah don’t worry. I said I’d have it for a month. And it’s been two days. Hopefully my sisters brain will melt from annoyance

Belle: g-good to know

Mal: aces. I’ll leave you to it then. See ya

(She walks down the hall. Artfully dodging the palace staff. Soon though she reaches the main staircase as well as Ben and Adam who’re are in the middle of an argument)

Adam:...if you had just listened to me then none of this ever would’ve happened!

Ben: yes it would’ve dad! Wether you want to face the truth or not, what happened at cotillion could’ve happened at literally any other time. I’m just thankful it happened when the cameras were on us. Cause at least then everyone could see that it’s people like you that drove Uma to it

Adam: of course, I forgot, I’m the bad man for thinking of the kingdom and you’re the alruist for putting up statues of our aggressors!

Mal (having heard enough from Adam): Uma was not an aggressor. The raccoon, yes, but Uma, no. (Adam starts to growl). Oh don’t look at me like that. What are you going to do? Throw a chair at me? (Her eyes glow emerald green). Go on then. Do it! I can more then assure you that it shan’t be me that it makes contact with. (Her eyes return to normal). Give the word Ben and I’ll turn him into something easily burned with a magnifying glass. If not I’ll be in your room

Ben: nah. He’s not worth it. Besides. He’d just start raving again. And nobody needs that. Please dad, just leave.

Adam: you need me son, you need me, Ben. The half dwarf has no idea how to assist you in running this kingdom

Ben: DOUG, knows a right sight more about the inner workings of the kingdom than you do. There’s a reason he’s my major-domo. And I know what you’re thinking. “He’s gonna be crawling back and asking for my help sooner or later. He’ll feel so stupid. Oh how he should’ve listened to me” (he laughs mockingly). Yeah remember I can read minds now. And I won’t. Don’t worry. I’m not gonna come crawling back. I’m good, we don’t need you, we’re good, I feel good

(This is when “feeling good” happens. Ben leaves his father twitching on the grass, rubs his face in frustration and poofs to his room. Mal’s in the kitchenette looking at a bottle of her medication)

Mal: I’ve got enough to last until the end of the week. But I’ll go into town and get some more later today. Just to be on the safe side

Ben (distractedly): sounds good

Mal: you ok?

Ben: mhmm...no. It’s just. He gets to me. You know. He knows how to push my buttons

Mal: oooh I’ve been there. You know you can always make an appointment with Milo, right?

Ben: yeah. Just not right now. M’not ready

Mal: that’s ok too. If you’re in the mood for it. We could fit in a quick “flight session” before dinner?

Ben: flight session or “flight session”?

Mal: second one

Ben: mmmm...no. Not in the right headspace. But we can fly properly later if ya like

Mal (understandingly): sounds perfect. But we should really do something to take your mind off your father. So how about we practice for the showcase?

Ben: fairy godmother said our song choice wasn’t viable for a school environment. And then paired you up with Evie.

Mal: well. How about we prevtice your one. You know. The one you’re doing with Lonnie

Ben (smiling): that sounds good

(Mal sets up the automatic piano. This is when “changes” happens. After the song Ben notices something)

Ben: hey mom! Hold up! (He pods down to the front of the palace to greet his mother). Watcha doing?

Belle: I’m off to the library

Ben: I thought we had one inside.

Belle: yes. Yea we do. But it’s not been updated apart from legal documents for 22 years. Therefore. I thought I’d take on the duty of updating it. Like it should be

Ben (cracking a wide grin): pick out some for me. You know what ones I like

Belle: will do

Ben: what brought all this on though. I’ve never seen you this happy. I like it.

Belle: getting a divorce can do wonders for a woman’s confidence. See you later tonight.

(She starts to head off)

Ben: hey mom!

Belle: yes?

Ben: Phillipe II’s been looking a little lonely

Belle (realising what Ben means): of course. Now I really must be going. Bye bye

Ben: byeee

(This is when “float” happens. A few weeks later Gil’s at the ROAR arena watching Lonnie lead the team in training)

Carlos: you know, you’re not gonna get anywhere with her just by staring

Gil: I-I am not-staring, puh hoohaa, ehhhh, is it that obvious?

Carlos: only from space

Gil: ah. (Whimpering) help meee. Please?

Carlos: you know what she likes. ROAR. Gossip. And weapons in general. You’ll be fine.

Gil: ok. Ok. I can do this. I’ll be fine

(After practice he approaches her as she’s packing to leave)

Gil: teach me

Lonnie (slightly surprised): hm?

Gil: I know how to fight like a pirate. And I know how to wrestle a grown man until his tendons snap beneath my fingers. But I don’t know ROAR. So I was wandering. Could you teach me?

Lonnie: of course. Only if you agree to do exactly what I say when I say it without argument

Gil: no arguments from me. So when do we start?

Lonnie: hmmmmm. For safety’s sake, considering this this your first time at ROAR, how about now?

Gil: works for me.

Lonnie: alrighty then. Grab that spare sword and we’ll get started

Gil: as you wish captain

(He takes the spare sword and they start practicing. This is when “strangers like me” happens. Well after the song Gil’s whooping down the corridor past Jay and Carlos)

Jay: somebody’s happy

Carlos: yeah I might have given him the final push he needed to ask Lonnie out

Jay: impressive. I’m proud of you. Ya big softie

Carlos: you would’ve done the same. Except you’d have added more beer

Jay: this is true. But still. You did a good thing dear.

Carlos: yeah. At least they get to move on together next year

Jay: ahhhh...wait, what? Whadya mean next year?

Carlos: oh nothing, you’re graduating this year, next year I’ll have a new roommate, and long distance hardly ever works

Jay (turning Carlos around to face him): C, look at me, long distance is gonna work. You know me. I’m lazy as sin.

Carlos: yeah, that’s probably true. But still. It’s gonna be difficult. Like really, really, really, difficult

Jay: what makes you say that?

Carlos: I mean look at you, you’re a freaking genie for gods sake. More to the point, you’re a free genie. People are gonna eat you up my friend.

Jay: ohhhh. You’re jealous.

Carlos: I’m not jealous. I’m insecure. There’s a difference

Jay: riiiight. I know how to deal with jealousy. But not insecurity

Carlos: I don’t expect you to. It’s my problem. And I’m the one who’s gotta deal with it. Not you. And oh Christ there’s the kingdom to consider

Jay: oho kay. I think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill right now

Carlos: it’s fine. I don’t expect you to get it. But please just let me vent.

Jay: sure. Vent away

(This is when “the last of the real ones” happens. That night in the family library, Ben finds Belle at the main table. She’s crying quietly)

Ben: hey, Mal and I are going out for dinner. I just wanted to let you know. Are you alright?

Belle: yeah. Just. I dunno. Feeling sorry for myself I suppose. I uh, I found something that brought back memories

Ben: good or bad memories?

Belle: oh good, very good, that’s what made me sad

Ben (reading the book title): “William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet: First Edition Illustrated”. Ohhhh. Oh you taught him to read with that didn’t you?

Belle: retaught him. He was cursed for almost ten years by then. He’d forgotten. (She abruptly stands up, sending the chair flying). Oh god why am I crying about him. It’s stupid. I’m divorcing him. He’s out of my life

Ben: I hate to play the devils advocate but he isn’t. Because of me you won’t be rid of him until his funeral procession. Which can’t come soon enough in my opinion.

Belle: it’s a stupid memory

Ben: no it’s not, cause it meant something to you.

Belle: I taught you too well

Ben: well it was either you teach me manners or Lumiere teach me flirting. Frankly we’re lucky the only thing I can play on piano is the assorted hits of David Bowie

Belle: you do play a good Starman. What are you doing?

Ben (pulling out his phone): calling Mal. Hey. Yeah it’s me. Mom’s got something going on. But you, Doug and Evie can go on without me. Oooh yes! Jane loves that restaurant. She’d love to go. See you tomorrow morning. Love you. Bye. And now you’re stuck with me for the night Maman

Belle: you don’t have to do this. You’re young. You should be having fun. Not stuck here with your elderly mother

Ben: I’ve got whiskey

Belle: so Downton Abbey, yes?

(Five hours and six bottles later they’re cry-laughing at the season one finale when Ben looks at his phone)

Ben: oh Christ. Is that the time. I should really be getting to bed

Belle: goodnight dear. I’ll keep watching

(Ben heads for the door. Then stops and turns back around to face her. This is when “strange sight reprise” happens. After the song, he leaves and the scene melts away back to the present. Gil and Lonnie are still on the couch looking very confused)

Lonnie: that was, uh, a weird flashback

Gil: I wasn’t there for half of that stuff

(They see something next to the mantelpiece)

Gilonnie: Camelot incense

Lonnie: Mal must have lit them

Gil: serves Evie right for buying in bulk.

Uma: what the fuck are you two on about

Gil: oh. Hey Uma. Didn’t see you there. We were, um, we were remembering what I was like when I first got here.

Uma: like I care. I don’t wanna hear about your perfect little life.

Lonnie: that’s my cue to leave. Or I’ll put your head through a wall.

Uma: ohhhh you could try. You wouldn’t be successful. But you could try

Lonnie: I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me Gil. As you you, you tricorn wearing whiny ass little loser. If you upset him. You answer to me. Capisce?

Uma: I don’t eat anything the bitch cooks. I’d rather die

Lonnie: keep acting the way your acting, that could very well happen

(Lonnie leaves. Gil looks disapprovingly at Uma)

Gil: she’s right you know

Uma: what?

Gil: eventually, everyone will stop trying to understand you. And they will leave you. Again. And you’ll be alone. Again. Is that really what you want?

Uma: I don’t need friends to know I’m right

Gil: BUT YOU’RE NOT! NEITHER OF YOU ARE RIGHT! She did one shitty thing to you ten years ago and what did you do? You let it consume you. You sent Harry after Carlos, the one she sees as her son, then last year you kidnapped and hypnotised the love of her life. And now. When both she and Ben are trying to give you leeway you keep pushing back. Because you are so fucking terrified of showing some much needed weakness that you’d rather push away anyone who gives somewhat of a damn about you wether it’s me or Harry or Ben or Morg

Uma: SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! YOU DONT KNOW ME! NONE OF YOU DO! YOU NEVER DID! AND YOU NEVER WILL!

Gil: yeah, cause you won’t let us. And that’s where you fail Uma. You never let anyone in

(Gil leaves the room passing Doug and Celia on the way)

Doug: Ben would like everyone back in the kitchen please. Hades and Mal have something they want to say

Uma: later.

Doug: no, now. Trust me. You’ll wanna here this

Uma: you’re not the boss of me. No matter how good looking you are

Doug: this is my house. Captain Facillier.

Celia: give us a minute.

Doug: you get ten.

(They watch Doug leave. Celia grabs Uma’s arm and practically throws her onto the couch)

Uma: what the hell was that for?

Celia: shut up. Just sit back and pay attention.

Uma: what are you doing?

Celia: relighting the Camelot incense.

Uma: why?

Celia: because dad cares. Just remember. These operate on Merlin’s magic. Which is rather unreliable. So we’ll probably see more then we need to

Uma: what?

Celia: just shut up and let me work. Alright?

(Once she lights the incense then she mutters a quick spell in french and once again the scene gives way to a flashback. This time to Facillier’s arcade on the island. The news is on the tv. Ben looks apologetic. He’s talking about a statue. Facillier’s watching and he looks broken)

Uma: why are we here?

Celia: this is six months ago. Aka; six months after you disappeared and Ben’s just declared you legally dead, highly reluctantly might I add. See Uma, you were missed. Even if you don’t think so. It practically broke our dad. Ah crap.

Uma: what?

Celia: I forgot.

Uma: forgot. WHAT?

Celia: ah, heh heh. Yuh see errrr

Ursula: 🎶OH ANTOINE!!!!🎶

Uma: no.

Celia: I am so sorry

(The door is blasted open and in slithers Ursula in all her slithery cephalopodic “glory”)

Ursula (slurring her words a little): I came as soon as I heard.

Facillier: what? To rub it in?

Ursula: why ever would I do that? I’ve lost my only daughter and only wish to seek >hic< comfort in the arms of the only man I’ve ever >belch< loved

Facillier: my god, you’re drunk aren’t you?

Ursula (giggling and belching simultaneously): muhbe a lil bit?

Facillier: oh Christ I should’ve known. You’re only here to gloat about how I can never see Uma again. Only you can’t be blamed for it

Ursula: oh don’t beat yourself up honey. Who knows. One day she may yet reappear. After (brap) all, every soul lost to the depths makes its way to me. It’s the law of the ocean. I’m like that fiery gent you sleaze around with. Only I’m more important

Facillier: get out

Ursula (stammering): what?

Facillier: get out! Go on! GET OUT! GET YOUR DRUNKEN BLUBBERY ASS OUT OF MY HOUSE! NOW!!!!

Ursula (turning on the, very, very, false, waterworks): but, but, but-

Facillier (having flat out lost his patience by now): BUT NOTHING! I don’t want you here. Not near me. Not near Celia. Get out. Sober your ass up. Or never contact me again

Ursula (actually starting to get nervous now): but this is how we work. I show up here drunk, you join me, then we end up in bed and

Facillier: not this time. If you want to talk to me, then stop downing the sixteen bottles of fermented grog you filch at the pier. And don’t, don’t do that

Ursula: don’t do what?

Facillier: oh god do I have to spell it out for you?

(This is when “call me when you’re sober” happens. After the song he wafts Ursula away in a plume of magenta smoke)

Facillier: you can come in now

Anastasia (sheepish smile): I uh, I saw Ursula headed for you and I thought you might need someone in your corner. How’re you doing?

Facillier: about as good as can be expected. But at least punches weren’t thrown

Anastasia: yeah. It’s just a shame there’s nothing they can do

Facillier: well they already went over the legal requirements and I know enough about the king to know he didn’t make the call off lightly. But it’s still disheartening. She might still be out there. Alone. With no one to help OH SHIT

Anastasia: what is it. What’s wrong?

Facillier (putting his jacket on as he heads for the door): Celia! I’ve got to go somewhere. I might be gone for so time. Ana’s going to stay here to look after you. Be good, behave and please try not to fleece anyone who doesn’t deserve it.

Flashback!Celia (from upstairs): will do. See ya later. Bye

Anastasia: what’s. Wrong?

Facillier: the boy. Uma wasn’t alone. He was with her

Anastasia: fuck. Do you think hades knows?

Facillier: I don’t know. If he does. He’s probably drinking himself into a stupor. Either way. He needs someone

Anastasia: then fly you fool

Facillier: I really shouldn’t have found that disc for you

Anastasia: oh you wouldn’t changed it for the world

Facillier: yeah you’re right

(He poofs away in a cloud of fuchsia smoke. In the shadows Celia turns to Uma who has a pained look on her face)

Celia: this was all I know. Well. What he told me. What happens next will be a complete surprise to both of us. So. Do you continue?

Uma: yes. Fine. I need to know. Just get on with it

(Celia nods her head and the scene melts away into smoke the reappears in a brightly lit, well cared for but still run down bar. The signage says “Kronk’s Tavern”. Facillier approaches Hades (Eva Green) who’s sitting on a barstool and drowning her sorrows in tequila and gin. End of this part of the Facillier flashback)

#disney descendants #zendaya!mal

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professional-benaddict · 5 years ago

Text

The Baby Snip l

Because it’s Halloween. Rped with my babe @sunflowerstarker. Credit to @questionablewritings for the inspo from the TIBS AU and to @sluttystarker for her Tony and Bucky characters on @askdaddytonyanddombucky

2.8k. Tony/Bucky, 18+ Peter, forced ageplay/infantilism, sexual-ish ageplay, kidnapping, use and threats of violence, corporal punishments, emotional manipulation, body modification, surgery, medical exams, drug use.

Part two here

--------

Regression surgery. As soon as Tony and Bucky had read about the success stories where unruly Littles refusing to regress where made into cooing and cuddly babies with just a few snips, the husbands had immediately called their acquaintance and surgeon Stephen Strange to set up a consultation appointment. The doctor was more than happy to see Peter and his two Daddies and had even set up time to do the procedure on the same day, if he found Peter to be in a fit state for the procedure.

To say the two husbands were excited was an understatement. They were over the moon and had been a bit kinder with their boy for the following week. And now the day was finally here, and Tony walked on light feet to the nursery.

“Petey pie, it’s time to wake up.” He said softly as he stepped into the dark room, flicking on the main light before walking over to Peter’s crib. “Oh, you’re awake already. Did you wait for Dada?” He cooed, stroking the boy’s cheek with a light finger.

Peter winced when the main light was flicked on, and a man suddenly appeared over his bedside (or cribside, Peter guessed). It was Tony, one of his two 'Daddies' that had taken him from his real family over a year ago to indulge in their fucked-up family roleplay, where Peter was forced to behave like a three year old for his captors' entertainment.

Peter had struggled massively with it at first, tried more escape attempts than you could count on your fingers, but the consequences of failing those attempts meant he was now too scared to try again. He had definitely regressed somewhat in the year spent with the two captors, but sometimes he still felt more aged up, like how he used to be before being taken. Today was one of those days, and he shied away from Tony's touch when a finger was outstretched to his face.

“Shh, take your time, baby. You just wake up while Dada finds you some clothes for today. We’re going out today. Isn’t that exciting?” Tony continued talking to himself happily as headed to the closet where all of Peter’s clothes were stored neatly. All the items were designer and made of high quality cotton. Only the best for their precious baby boy.

“Hmm? How about some overall? Papa likes you so much in them.” Tony mused and settled on a long sleeve t-shirt with paw prints over the arms and a matching pair of overalls with puppies embroidered on the knees and back pockets. “We should get you some puppy socks to match.”

They were going out today? Oh, God no. Peter hated going outside, regressed or otherwise, because of how mortifying it was to be seen by other people. There was an entire neighbourhood inhabited by nutters like Tony and Bucky, his other captor, who insisted on stealing full-grown adults and forcing them into a young child's headspace.

This meant that every time Peter left the house, he was subjected to adults cooing over him and talking over his head like he was truly a child. He knew not to speak to them though: the first time he was taken outside, he stupidly tried to get help from one of the neighbours who told on him to his captors, and he got the beating of a lifetime.

At the mention of 'Papa', Peter shrunk even further back against the crib. That was Bucky, the husband to Tony, and the more physically aggressive of the two of them. Where Tony preferred to use words to break Peter down, Bucky preferred a firm hand. Peter hated Tony, but he was terrified of Bucky. He did not say anything in response to Tony's ramblings as a disgustingly 'cute' outfit was picked out for him, but he whined quietly in protest when the man picked him up to get him dressed.

“Oh, baby, I know, that pull-up probably feels super gross. I’ll get you changed and then we’ll have breakfast together with Papa.” Tony shushed as he picked up Peter after removing the cuffs keeping the boy safely in his crib. The husbands had tried to remove the cuffs when they thought Peter was finally settling in, but then he had tried to escape and almost got himself badly hurt. So, the cuffs are here to stay.

After getting Peter on the changing table, Tony started humming a little song and worked with changing the boy. He would never admit to it, but he was a little forceful with the change and got a quiet sense of power from how meek Peter was. He could see in the fear in the boy’s eyes, knowing that he could simply call his husband to discipline Peter, and that the boy would probably fall in line before Bucky even arrived.

Peter could never quite decide which part of the day he hated the most, but ‘changing time’ was definitely up there as one of the worst parts. He had initially fought tooth and nail against both of his captors seeing him naked or putting him in a pull-up, and that was the first time Peter had learnt just how ruthless Bucky could be with his beatings. Now, the boy just laid there and stewed in his own humiliation and embarrassment as the man changed his adult-sized pull-up. He was soon lifted off the table and set down on the floor, where the man started to sort out putting his clothes on for him.

“There we go.” Tony finally said when he had gotten Peter dressed for the day in his adorable puppy outfit. The older man adjusted the shoulder strap a little before giving the boy’s cheek a kiss. “Go find Papa now!” He encouraged with an excited gasp. Letting Peter walk around the house supervised like this was no issue, not when every door and window was locked and any device to communicate with the outside world was also password or lock protected. Besides, Tony greatly enjoyed watching the boy waddle with the thick padding hindering him from closing his legs properly.

Peter really, really did not want to go to the kitchen where he knew Bucky would be cooking breakfast, but with Tony stood right behind him preventing him from staying in his room, he supposed he had no choice. He slowly made his way out of his bedroom and down the stairs with Tony following behind him, and then into the kitchen where Bucky was stood with his back facing them as he cooked breakfast. The man turned on his heels, and his face split into a wide grin when he saw his husband and child stood in the kitchen with him.

“Morning, babe.” He quickly greeted Tony, leaning back to kiss the man on the lips before looking down at Peter. “And is that my little puppy prince? Good morning, Petey!”

“An especially cute outfit for a special day.” Tony hummed after kissing his husband back. He then moved to scoop Peter up into his high chair and strapped him in safely, which included straps going over the shoulders to prevent escapes. Before helping Bucky with the last preparations for breakfast, Tony handed Peter a soft baby book to entertain himself with in the meantime. “I’m so excited for today.” Tony mused to Bucky, nosing lovingly at his neck when they were stood close.

“I know, so am I.” Bucky murmured back, looking over his shoulder to see Peter poking at his baby book. “We better feed him a good breakfast, can’t have him passing out properly during it.” He said as he loaded a small bowl with porridge with some honey drizzled on top for their boy. A small bowl of sliced banana also came with it, and he brought it over to Peter with a big smile on his face.

“Here you go, Pete! A yummy breakfast before your big day.”

Big day? What was that supposed to mean? Tony had just said they were going out, Peter assumed that they were going to the park or maybe to the mall like they usually do. He had heard the husbands mentioning their excitement about something while he fiddled with his book to appear like he was not paying attention, but he did not hear what exactly the event was. He poked at the porridge with his spoon, and ate the smallest amount possible. Not poisoned, then, he thought to himself.

“Eat up, honey bee, don’t be shy.” Tony encouraged with a pat to Peter’s head before he moved to sit down at the table. Bucky did the same and brought over the plates for the grown ups, loaded with eggs and toast. There was no way they would feed such foods to their baby. “Or do you want Papa or Dada to help you?” Tony asked when Peter seemed to hesitate with his food.

Peter shook his head hurriedly, and took a tighter grip on his spoon before eating a bigger mouthful of porridge. As much as he hated to admit it, Bucky was a good cook. He ate slowly, occasionally switching his mouthfuls of porridge for a slice or two of banana.

Bucky watched the boy eat fondly, and couldn’t resist leaning forward to ruffle his hair. He chuckled as it got into Peter’s eyes, and murmured a soft “silly puppy” as he stroked the hair back into place with his fingers. He soon finished his breakfast, and took his plate up to the sink.

“What time are we supposed to be there?” He asked Tony, glancing over his shoulder as he put the plate in the dishwasher.

“Hmm, in an hour.” Tony hummed as he checked his watch and then finished the last of his breakfast before passing his plate to Bucky. He then turned to Peter to whip away an imaginary bit of porridge from the corner of Peter’s mouth. He did not comment on the frown the boy gave him in return.

“Eat you, baby. We gotta get ready and then hit the road. It’s a bit of a drive.” Tony said, giving Peter one last chance to finish his breakfast on his own. Luckily, the boy obeyed and finished his portion of porridge, but left some pieces of banana. “Okay, up we go! Papa will help you brush your teeth and pick out a fluffy friend and some other toys for the car ride.”

Peter tried not to look too nervous as he was passed over from Tony’s arms to Bucky’s. Bucky carried the boy like he weighed absolutely nothing, but being swaddled by the man’s muscles only served as a reminder of what kind of damage he could do to Peter if he really wanted.

“Come on, sweet pea, time to get your teeth squeaky clean.” Bucky chirped cheerfully, bouncing the boy once or twice in his arms as they made their way to the bathroom. The boy was sat down on the toilet lid and a firm look given in his direction told him to stay there as Bucky sorted out his toothbrush. Again, Peter had learnt the hard way not to bite either of the men while they brushed his teeth.

After a while of cleaning the kitchen and getting their things ready to head out, Tony headed to the bathroom and found Bucky drying Peter’s mouth with a towel. It seemed like the teeth brushing was done and over with.

“Okay, let’s go pick out a fluffy friend.” Tony said, extending his hand to take Peter into his and so led the boy back to the nursery. When Peter did not immediately pick out a stuffie, Tony spoke up. “Pick a friend, baby, be good for us.” The threat in his voice was obvious based on his tone.

Peter gulped, looking around the room. He eventually picked up a soft shark stuffie that was in his crib, and held it up for Tony and Bucky, who was now also at the doorway of the nursery, to see.

“This one, please.” He said quietly. He had been here for so long that he had in fact began regressing in some ways more than others, and found that his shark stuffie brought him a lot of comfort in such a scary situation. Bucky’s previously stern face was now smiling widely, and he came forward to pick the boy up.

“Lil’ Sharky, huh? Good boy. Maybe Dada can pack some Legos in a bag for you, how does that sound?” He cooed, and Peter nodded mutely. Better that than having to choose the toys himself. Just like Bucky, Tony also smiled widely when Peter picked out the shark stuffie.

“You gonna show off your Sharky, huh? Everyone’s gonna be so jealous when they see your cool stuffie.” Tony chuckled and headed over to collect a bunch of duplo legos into one of Peter’s backpacks. He picked out the one with Pikachu on it. Once they had everything ready, Tony and Bucky brought Peter to the garage which had a door connecting to the main house. It was all designed on purpose so that Peter could not run away. The garage door could only be opened through Tony or Bucky’s phones.

“You excited for our special day, baby? You’re probably still wondering where we’re going, hm?” Tony practically gushed with delight in the passenger seat while Bucky drove them. Bucky glanced back through the rear view mirror at Peter every so often, smiling at the boy’s confused and pensive expression.

“We’re going to see a friend of ours, baby.” He said cryptically, before turning his full attention back onto the road.

As they drove past the park, Peter watched it go with his eyes. A friend? The only friends of Tony and Bucky’s he could really think of were Natasha, Bruce and Clint, but none of them lived in this direction. Soon they were also driving past the mall, only leaving Peter even more confused. He fiddled with the stuffie on his lap hopelessly, careful not to make eye contact with Tony who was watching him over his shoulder every so often. Soon, however, they pulled up to a familiar looking clinic, with ‘STEPHEN STRANGE, M.D.’ written on a sign. Oh, fuck no.

“Here we are!” Tony announced in a sing song voice and looked over at Peter to see his reaction. The boy looked mortified, but he did not care since he was so caught up in his own excitement. He could not wait to see the amazing results that had been blasted all over the media and news. And based on the full parking lot, a lot of other caregivers were also bringing their Littles in for the magical ‘baby snip’.

“Hold on to Sharky, baby. Papa will get you out in a moment.” Tony said as they parked and the husbands hopped out of the car.

No. No, no, no, no! Peter was finding it hard to breathe, and he began tugging at his seatbelt hopelessly in an attempt to make a break for it. However, Bucky got there first and opened the backseat door where Peter was sitting.

“Hold still, puppy, just need to- Peter, Peter, hold still!” Bucky growled impatiently, but Peter was having none of it. He began panicking properly, struggling in his seat as the man tried to get him to stop.

“No, n-no, don’t wanna-! Nuh uh, no, plea-“ Peter’s pleas were suddenly cut off by a harsh, stinging slap to his cheek, one that left a bright red mark, but effectively shut the boy up. He gasped in shock, as Bucky recoiled his hand from where he had been forced to hit the boy.

Tony did no bat at eye when his husband disciplined their boy. After all, it was discipline and Peter was misbehaving. In the tense after shock of the slap, Tony chimed in with a warning.

“Peter, you’re being warned now. Next, we’re putting a gag on you.” While Peter continued to be stunned by the slap, Bucky took the opportunity to get Peter out of his seat and grasped the boy around his upper arm in a tight hold. Coming up on the other side, Tony stroked Peter’s hair back and handed him Sharky who was left next to his cat seat. “Take Sharky, baby.”

In his shocked daze, Peter could do little else but take his stuffie and cradle it to his chest. He was tugged along the car park by Bucky, who did not seem to notice how tight his grip was around the boy’s bicep. Bucky let out a gentle huff through his nose, and quickly gathered his composure as they entered through the doors of the clinic and headed to the reception desk.

-------

Part two here

Tag list: @starkerplusstrange @gracieopalxx @disneyprincessdominatrix @kawaiigeology @just-another-nerd63795 @misssecretstudenttree @babyboy-peterparker @coffeehabit

#my fics #richie pup #starker #winteriron #winterspider #winterironspider #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark x bucky barnes #peter parker x bucky barnes #tony stark #peter parker #james bucky barnes

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mystic-kitten-writer · 5 years ago

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You’re so sweet for being so reassuring and not minding at all how I ramble about astrology 🧡 I’m very flattered with how you said how observant I am, thank you for that! But oh my gosh, please, there’s nothing to be jealous about. I personally feel like I get bogged down by details that at times I get too caught up and the bigger picture gets overlooked. (1/9)

And Zuko really is the poster child of a Mars man, you summed it up perfectly!! I am far from being an expert, but I love the validation you shower me with 🥰 Though I actually would love to reach a level where I can offer chart readings to anyone interested and have it be some kind of little side job one day. But ahh, there’s still so much I have to learn, from traditional to modern, it’s a discipline really worth getting into. (2/9)

I’ve never really thought about Azula’s nor Mai’s sign. Now I really want to think + look into it! It would be fun to analyze how that affected their dynamic with Zuko. I’ve been meaning to do a rewatch of the entire series due to quarantine, but even with staying home, there’s still school. And I find myself more stressed and not in the proper headspace to do a whole rewatch + be able to appreciate it properly. Idk if that made any sense, but hopefully I get over it soon. (3/9)

I’m hypothesizing that Azula has strong Leo/Scorpio to her, though she shows the negative qualities. She’s very loud, loud as in she makes people take notice of her + seeks praise/basks in any praise given to her, feeling entitled to all of it. Though I have to give it to her, she has this compelling vibe to her, so her entitlement is valid. She’s also cunning + manipulative and is a master at being so. Though none of that is her fault, she just really didn’t know any better. (4/9)

I would associate Mai’s no bull-shit attitude with Capricorn/Aquarius. I actually haven’t read the comics but her no bull-shit persona shines in the series and it’s fantastic! She’s not upfront with her feelings, but blunt with everything else. At the same time, she didn’t have a problem with stepping up when needed, such as stepping up to Azula. All of which fit into the archetypes of Cap/Aqua. And I agree communication between her and Zuko would be crucial for understanding between them. (5/9)

Those are my best guesses, I’ll get back to you more on how their signs played into their interactions with Zuko when I get to rewatching the series later! Yue’s gentleness comes from her Venus energy, and it’s wonderful how it allows Zuko’s inner Cancer to be visible. I also just realized Yue’s Libra energy and Zuko’s Aries energy play a part as to why they’re so appealing to each other too. They are opposites that just absolutely complement each other! (6/9)

Oh, I’m a Taurus + Libra moon + Sagittarius ascendant! Thanks for being curious ☺️ Going back to how you said you’re a Scorpio and your sister is a Taurus, I can relate. My mom is a Scorpio, and similarly, it took growing up for me to understand where my mom is coming from because we used to disagree on a bunch of things. I don’t have a proper explanation for it tbh. Other than the fact that Taurus and Scorpio are naturally opposites, so misunderstandings can easily arise. (7/9)

Though funny enough, I have a lot of people in my life that have Scorpio in their chart, and I’ve read a few times that if signs that naturally oppose each other make the effort to connect, then the connection is extraordinary. And as a Taurus, the people who positively affected me most are people with Scorpio energy, so I guess it’s the universe’s way of bringing balance. (8/9)

Omg, all of my asks basically make up a whole essay on astrology, and I really can’t believe I typed all that out. But thank you for sharing my enthusiasm for it 💓 I promise I can talk about things other than astrology though, aha. The next time I send you a message it’ll be on a different topic for sure! Also, I have no idea if any parts duplicated/are missing because Tumblr made me wait an hour before I could send everything. So I hope everything shows up properly! (9/9) - 🌻

I don’t know if it’s just me – but it makes my DAY getting long asks.

I love reading people’s words because you can tell how much effort and joy the person has while writing something (whatever the topic is). Like high-key, I wait for your asks because they’re always so long and in-depth, and as someone who suffers from word vomit – I can appreciate the passion and overall love. So, you better not send me short asks – I will hold it against you 😂 LOOL I need an essay buddy~! 😉

I AM CLAIMING DIBS ON BEING YOUR FIRST CUSTOMER. You can read my whole soul damnit because while I totally agree with you that Astrology is a broad discipline with much material to learn and cover, you have a vast knowledge on the topic already. I can totally see you doing it! You explain things very well, and as I read, I find myself learning stuff, and as someone who loves learning – your attention to detail and how clear you are is much appreciated.

Trust me, I get that feeling of stress. Like even though I finished school, and I can relax for the summer because my summer classes got cancelled, being stuck at home is starting to get to me. I’m very much an ambivert (leaning towards introverted), and usually, being alone is my fav zone. Still, I do enjoy going for walks and staying active (even if it's solo activities #Idontdoteamworkandusuallyendedupplayingsoloevents). But the weather has been poor, and I think all my family and friends are starting to get cabin fever 😅. Are you done your classes for the semester yet, or do you still have time to go?

OUUU, I see that mix of Leo Scorpio. Gosh, you're so good at this stuff. I can ask you questions all day LOOL. Like that manipulative aspect is, no doubt in my mind, a Scorpio thing 🙈. Like I’m a Scorpio, and even I can admit it – we’re master manipulators (for better or worse). But I’m surprised by the Mai one! Not because I don’t agree, but because I couldn’t pin one down for her, but I think you nailed it. I’m excited to see if you change your opinions once you watch the show. Because something I notice that happens naturally as you age, is certain traits of the zodiac signs become more prominent or disappear. Because, unsurprisingly, first episode Zuko to comic books Zuko are pretty much two completely different characters. He went from ‘don’t touch me’ to starting every single hug in the comic books with Aang and Sokka, etc. (Soft Zuko does things to me 🤭).

SO, QUESTION – how does Yue’s Venus influence Zuko’s cancer, and how does Yue’s Libra’s energy influence Zuko’s Aries? Like I know, they influence each other, but I’m trying to find the right words, or examples, of it happening. Or ways to describe how they affect each other. I’m sorry if I’m not making any sense. I just – there’s so much to learn, and I want to know more and more 🤯

HANDS DOWN, I would not label you as a Taurus!

I was going to label you as a Libra (so I’m happy I got that one right, kind of), but I’m so shooketh about the Taurus. But I can’t agree with you more on the fact that while Taurus/Scorpio’s are opposites, if they put effort into the relationship, it's incredible. Because I think a lot of it stems from miscommunication. Like I believe communication is vital in any given relationship, obliviously, but certain signs need an extra sprinkle of it to work.

My sister just had a second baby, and her first baby is a Libra/Scorpio cusp, and the second girl is Scorpio, and her husband is also a Libra/Scorpio cusp. I had to laugh and say good luck raising two mini-mes! She’s like I shot myself in the foot LOOL 😂😂😂

And don’t worry about it, hunny! If I ever miss a part, I’ll send a post right away in search of your missing ones because I need your words 😉

#ask me anything #anon answered #zuko #atla #astrology #🌻#🌻 anon #sunflower anon

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

Text

San Francisco (Branjie) - Poppedthep

AN: Spoilers for the finale! Brooke and Vanjie the night [spoiler] wins. Slight AU of seating positions if you’ve seen the top four queens reaction video.

This is my first time posting here! If you enjoy this will likely be more on my AO3 account soon, under this author name. But wanted to come join in and post on AQ at least once as I enjoy the fic from everyone on here! Hello :)

Brooke is holding Vanjie’s hand when they find out Yvie wins.

Brooke is on the couch with the four, right hand on Yvie’s knee, Yvie’s on hers, both squeezing tight.

Jose is perched on the arm next to them with a drink, in boy clothes. He managed to blag his way in there with them, of course. No one says no to Vanjie.

He’s kept his distance all night, showing love to all the girls equally, but in the last second as Ru says “the winner of RuPaul’s Drag Race, America’s next Drag Superstar is…” Brooke feels Jose’s hand slip into her free one, linking their fingers and squeezing. She squeezes back, grateful, and doesn’t look away from the screen, tells herself whatever happens she’ll be okay.

And she is. Jose screams and hugs Yvie with the rest of the four, and then hugs Brooke longer and tighter, leaving an arm around her waist, waiting until everyone is following Yvie out and no one is looking at them to catch her eye and mouth “You okay?”

Brooke nods and forces her smile even bigger, just to reassure him. She is. Of course she’s a little disappointed, that’s natural, but she’d sort of felt it coming. Suspected it. She’s made her peace with it.

Everyone goes out to the viewing party to watch the crowning, mingle, take photos. As soon as they get out there Brooke is hugging Courtney, who can’t stop crying. Jose runs off to shop his Levis freebies, floating around in those red plaid pants like a snack.

Brooke Lynn smiles graciously, makes the rounds accepting hugs and drinks and congratulations and compliments, as beautifully poised as though she is wearing the crown. A pageant-perfect good-natured runner up.

Brock is proud of what he’s done. He’s grateful for everything. There are good things ahead and he’ll be fine.

“Look at you,” Jose comes over and perches next to him on a bar stool later, when most people have left, plopping his big Levis bag on the bar. In this position his head is above Brooke’s and he leans down and says,

“You my winner,” against her cheek.

“Don’t tell none of them other hos,” into her ear.

He links his hands around Brooke’s neck and Brooke turns her face into Jose’s collarbone, smiling at the familiar warmth, resting her arms around his waist in their easy cuddle.

“Look at him,” Jose says to apparently no one, gazing at her fondly, possibly tipsy.

Jose looks down and back up quickly, mischief and invitation in his eyes.

“Want me to make you feel like the winner tonight?” he flashes a conspiratorial smile, all teeth and cuteness, speaking low enough the people passing on their way out can’t hear.

“Don’t you even worry baby,” he growls, wicked but soft, “I’m bout to make you feel like the real queen.”

He’s definitely not sober but aware of what he’s doing, shades of comforting and caretaking making his eyes soft beneath the mischief, even as his hand slips down the open back of Brooke’s gown to squeeze the top of her ass under the padding.

They’ve done it plenty of times when they’ve spent time together since the break up. More often lately since they’ve been seeing each other a lot. Now they’re on tour together it looks like there’ll be more ahead.

But Jose is sick today. Sore throat, stuffy nose, congested head, medicated and powering through it. No one could tell, he’s looking like distractingly fine trade in tight red plaid that leaves nothing to the imagination, but Brooke knows he’s not feeling his best.

“No, you’re sick, you don’t have to do that,” she protests, indignant on his behalf.

“I’m fine Mary,” Jose insists, “My pussy ready to pop twenty four seven, you know that. Don’t got to get ready if you stay ready,” he winks.

But he also sniffles and he smells like menthol throat sweets and he doesn’t insist very hard. Brooke can tell it’s more about being there for her in case her ego needs it than Jose really wanting it tonight.

“No, you rest up, get your beauty sleep,” she teases and she already knows what’s coming when Jose clicks his tongue and quips,

“Bitch I don’t need no beauty sleep. Look at this mug! Born beautiful, catch that” and snaps his fingers above their heads.

“That leopard catsuit though,” Brooke grabs his hip and gives him what she knows is a dangerously appreciative look but she just spent an hour rewatching how good Vanjie looked in that skin tight leopard print.

“Yeah?” Jose smirks proudly, pursing his lips, popping a shoulder.

“Yeah,” Brooke laughs, “And you know it,” she teases, “My best dressed.”

Jose tilts his head and purses his lips again smugly.

“Damn right I know it. Your best drag queen. Winner of Season Eleven. Cut the check, bitch!” he snaps the air again and Brooke laughs instinctively.

“Right. This tired old lady needs to get to bed,” Brooke detangles herself before they get any further into flirting.

She gives Jose a big kiss on the cheek and says, “Thanks though. Love you,” only avoiding his lips because she doesn’t want to get sick.

Jose says “Love you too,” tilting his head and watching her leave from the bar stool with the same tipsy, fond gaze.

He’s very cute. It blows Brooke’s mind how Jose can look like such trade out of drag when he’s such a pretty woman as Vanjie.

Brooke waves “Feel better,” blowing another kiss over her shoulder and heads back to her room to listen to Nina’s album on Spotify again with Courtney.

Hours later it’s two am. Courtney left at eleven and Brock is in bed but can’t sleep. He stares at the ceiling, his thoughts racing with what’s to come next. It’s hard to plan for. It’s so unknown. It’s all good things on the horizon but he feels a looming dread for no rational reason. The crown would have given more structure and certainty to his post-show path. Things will still be good, he knows they will, but there are so many unknown variables now.

He really needs to sleep. They’re flying early, have Vancouver tomorrow night. He can’t make his brain turn off. The dread is growing, forming into anxiety.

He needs a distraction from his racing thoughts. The best distraction he knows conveniently happens to be staying a few doors down.

Brock doesn’t want to bother him at two am when he’s sick. But he did offer earlier…..

He tries to sleep for twenty more minutes before he gives in and texts Jose:

Hey, are you awake?

Am now bitch. Whats up?

Wanna come visit for a bit?

Minutes later Jose knocks his door. Brock answers shirtless in sleep sweats, not bothering to turn on any lights other than the bedside lamp.

Jose is in boxers with a robe loosely around his shoulders and raises his eyebrows when Brock opens the door, running his eyes down Brock’s chest to the v above his sweats.

“Change your mind?” he smirks.

Brock opens the door wider to let him in before answering, wary of not giving anyone the chance to spot him there and get even more involved in their personal lives than everyone is already.

Jose scoots past him smirking, keeping eye contact, their hips brushing with just sheer cotton between them. Given that they mostly touch in drag these days, it’s overstimulation. His dick twitches involuntarily and for a moment he’s overwhelmed with wanting to grab Jose, run his hands all over him.

But he really didn’t ask him to come over for sex. Jose is sick. He’s in a weird headspace. Neither of them are really in the mood for it. He just knows the spirit that is Vanjie will be able to distract him from his thoughts, lighten his mood.

“No,” he laughs, “I didn’t change my mind.”

Jose’s eyebrows shoot higher, doubting.

“I swear,” he protests. “I just couldn’t sleep. Wanna talk for a bit?”

“Okay,” Jose nods warily, getting softer and more serious, waiting to see what Brock needs from him.

“We can get in bed if you want. Then you can fall asleep if I’m boring you,” Brock says.

Jose huffs a laugh and says, “Okay,” again, and gets in the left side of the bed, the side he always used to take, putting his phone face down on the bedside table.

Brock slips in the other side. They lie down on the starchy hotel pillows and turn to face each other.

“So how you feelin?” Jose asks softly, looking him over.

“Good. Weird,” Brock shrugs.

Jose nods and sniffles, suppresses a cough.

“Are you okay?” concern makes Brock’s voice soft.

“Mmhmm,” Jose answers, shifting on the pillow, sniffling a bit more. Brock reaches to the bedside table and hands him a tissue.

“Thanks,” Jose blows his nose.

“Sorry to get you out of bed when you’re sick,” Brock’s voice is naturally soft and gets softer with worry. Jose never doesn’t look good, but he’s starting to look noticeably sick. Brock will feel bad if he’s sicker tomorrow because of him.

“We in bed now, ho,“ Jose has a small smile. “Anyway I don’t mind. Wasn’ really sleeping.”

Brock feels an involuntary smile spread and he was right about his choice of distraction.

“You better keep them nasty toes over there, though, or I ain’t being held responsible for my actions,” Jose jokes, pleased when Brock properly laughs.

He lasts all of two minutes on the opposite side of the bed before he scoots over to Jose like a cat for a cuddle.

Jose opens his arms and Brock shuffles down and rests his head on Jose’s smooth chest, feeling arms wrap tightly around him.

He just breathes there for a moment, calmer, safer, comforted already.

“Don’t freak out. You did so good. I’m proud of you. Everybody proud.” Jose says soothingly. His hand strokes across the tired muscles in Brock’s back.

“You gonna be fine. You’ll get so many gigs. People love you.” His hand strokes through Brock’s hair, scratching at his scalp and Brock leans into it, rubbing his cheek against Jose’s chest.

“Thanks,” he sighs softly. “It’s just not knowing. Everything starts now and I want to make the most of it, do the best I can. I don’t want to miss anything or fuck anything up or…” he exhales his perfectionist frustrations with himself in a sigh.

“You won’t fuck anything up. You’re amazing,” the rhythm of Jose’s hand in his hair and the lull of his voice is relaxing. The certainty in it makes him feel strong, makes him believe him. Something about his energy just oozes positivity around them, even when he’s not making jokes.

“Take it one thing at a time. Gotta slay this tour first. You will, you’re fierce. Keep doin them Lives talkin it up with the fans. You good at that.”

The pads of Jose’s fingers draw circles on Brock’s scalp and he feels like he could purr.

“Then we going to Europe with Miss Nina West. Girls on tour. Girls gone wild! London baby!” Jose’s voice gets playfully raucous and Brock looks up and sees Jose looking down at him hopefully, trying to make him smile, so he does. Jose blows him a kiss in the air. Brock blows one back and settles his head back down.

Jose plays with his hair in silence for a while. The hotel mini fridge hums. As though he senses Brock’s intrusive thoughts starting to creep back Jose starts talking again softly,

“You not on your own. You got an amazing team. You got Steve and Courtney and your mom. You got Plastique, Nina, Rajah, Tynomi. Gia, Brynn, Farah, all your friends,” his breath hitches slightly before adding, “And me.”

“Thanks, Big Guy,” Brock sighs again, softer. The nickname slips out accidentally, he feels Jose twitch involuntarily at it beneath him. He presses a kiss into Jose’s chest and feels Jose kiss the top of his head.

“We all believe in you. You a winner baby. And I done this shit before. I’ll help you.” Jose’s fingertips smooth over his brow, flattening out invisible lines before dipping back into his hair.

“Thanks,” Brock murmurs again, truly grateful. “You’ve already helped me so much already,” he says on a yawn.

His thoughts are finally quietening down and allowing him to get sleepy. He yawns again into Jose’s warm skin.

“Get excited, bitch. This gonna be a good year,” Jose sniffles again. Brock feels his chest shake as he suppresses a cough.

“Yeah, it is,” Brock wills himself to believe it. He stretches to the bedside table to hand Jose another tissue. The air away from Jose is so much colder, even just those few inches of bed, and he feels immediately relieved to snuggle back down close.

“It’s gonna be good,“ he repeats to himself.

"Gonna be real good, bitch,” Jose is yawning now too.

He falls asleep not long after on Jose’s chest, lulled by gentle affirmations and gentle fingers on his scalp.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #poppedthep #submission #canon compliant

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rkmason · 5 years ago

Photo

▰▰▰▰▰▰ MNET GLOBAL AUDITIONS, SEASON 5 ˟ EP. 6 PERFORMANCE ▰▰▰▰▰▰

over a month in and they’re here: semi-finals. it’s a joke, right? this could all be a pipe dream. okay, two more seconds and he’s gonna wake up from a deep sleep with dabin sitting on his chest and slapping his face because according to one of the youngest of kill.u.strate, that’s the only way to wake someone up. he can’t wait for the day dabin gets a serious girlfriend and minho’s gonna rub that sentence in his face. dabin’s too similar to him— he just hasn’t heard the siren call yet.

he still can’t believe it, a month has come and gone, and he thought he wasn’t gonna make it past day 0. because the comments are right. sure, the rumor isn’t confirmed but it’s true— he left convex because he chose his girlfriend. he chose her over them and that won’t go away. no matter who he receives support from, even if they’re members of convex, he knows it’s too late. the ink has stained his ledger. coming onto the show, he pretended it would be a blank slate but he knows it’s far from it. his decision put him right back in the public eye and he’d be a liar to say he doesn’t enjoy being on stage again. he’d be a liar to say he’d be fine in the end. mijoo, his father, seik, everyone dear to him told him not to act like it was nothing, like he was okay, and the more honest he is about his own feelings the more scared he is.

being put on the trc team reminds him of his triple threat audition, how he said let it go but he’s the one still holding on. he’s the one thinking about that phone call with his sister, how she called again this week and the one thing he couldn’t hold onto in that moment was himself.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ PAUSE, REWIND ⭯ ›› 7월 29일 , I KNOW WHEN THAT HOTLINE BLING 📱

[ TW: MENTION OF INJURY, IMPLIED PANIC ATTACK, *CAPTAIN AMERICA V/O* LANGUAGE ]

“i think you should quit.”

it’s not the first time he’s heard those words coming from his sister’s lips, not the first time she’s said it since he signed up for the mgas again, not the first time he’s sat with his back to the wall in his apartment, the waning moonlight the only source of light in the room as he sighs, head thunking against drywall as he leaves her unanswered. he wishes the time difference was greater, that his sister didn’t work in an industry where she’s awake at the same hours of him, ironically working as late as early morning. usually, it ends the same way. usually, it’s him once again telling her “i don’t know what you want me to say, han.”

an echo because of how empty the room is, because he’s isolated himself for the nth time. because he used to think he was lonely in nova because of the competitiveness but it was also him. a large part of it falls on him, on how he let everything get into his head while giving off the impression there is nothing in his head, no substance to his mind and soul when really he carries it all on his shoulders.

maybe that’s what happened to his shoulder in the past. it wasn’t just because he wasn’t letting himself properly heal for the sake of being signed, for continuing to dance, to live the lifestyle he kept up with. it was because he kept all that tension up there too, gloom in his headspace until it clouded his judgment. that was what turned his vision to black and white.

“are you listening to me?”

a deep sigh. in, out. “yeah.”

“are you sighing at me? you’re lucky i—”

he tunes her out and it’s unlike him. choi minho, who grew up being told that he should listen to every word a woman has to say, every word any person has to say because their opinion is important. it’s theirs, it has merit, it ought’a be heard but this? this? he doesn’t want to hear it again. over and over again, his sister is always right. she can do no wrong.

it’s out of love. he knows that, he knows this, so why is it so hard? his sister who he’s admired for so long even if she thinks that he prefers jake. his sister, who was the first one to show up to one of his dance competitions and scream til she lost her voice so he wouldn’t be sad that his parents couldn’t come, that their father refused to come even though he could, even though he was the only parent in the country at the time. his sister came, holding chris’ hand and insisting he couldn’t let go no matter how embarrassing it is. that’s how she is. headstrong, protective, because he’s not the only one who had to grow up at a young age.

if anyone knows about carrying weight on their shoulders, it’s her.

he realizes, that’s why it’s difficult. he doesn’t know how to tell her that she doesn’t understand when she’s tried the hardest in their whole family to understand him as far back as he could remember.

“—members are coaches and olivia. are you fucking kidding me, mason? you can’t tell me you’re not making goo-goo ga-ga eyes at her like the lovesick fool that you are. i’veseen you.”

hands rubbing over his face, he feels the pressure in his chest, how it rises up his throat and lodges itself right there until he can’t breathe. again, inhale, exhale.

come on, one more time. inhale, exhale.

you can do it, he tells himself, in and out—

shit, fuck.

no, he can’t and the way he struggles sounds like forced chuckling. it feels like it could be if he pulled it off, if he pulled off making it sound like he was just laughing, because it must be a joke. he is the joke and, who knows, maybe that clown wig really foreshadowed the rest of his future on the show.

everything his sister says, he already knows. he thought it, felt it, wanted to run from it for a moment because it was overwhelming.

but why, why, just why does he have to hear this from his sister? his brother’s flight is due in a few hours and he’s going with the guys to pick him up. as soon as chris got the confirmation that he could see the show live, he booked the flight. chris is happy for him, for moving onto the next round, regardless of who showed up on that stage as coaches. actually, part of him thinks chris didn’t realize at first, that he doesn’t care because mason says it’s alright.

it comes with being the youngest, he knows that’s why chris wouldn’t do it but it’s right up hannah’s alley but he just— if he could just breathe.

“stop.” his voice is soft, raw, doesn’t sound like him at all. she asks what and all he hears is her saying “i think you should quit” and the reasons she listed on replay. worse than the it’s a small world song and he thinks he’s seconds away from pulling his hair out.

he couldn’t do it. couldn’t listen to her telling him that he’s being stupid again, that he’s setting himself up to fail, that he’s walking right into their trap, that they keep bringing up convex for this moment, for the moment two convex members come out as coaches and he goes from being in the sphere practice rooms to the trc team.

arguments form in his mind but he can’t get them out, like if they really wanted to fuck with him, he’d be on the nova team with sunmi and wendy, who he trained with before debuting in convex. if they really wanted to fuck with him, if they really knew, if sphere did know who he’s dating, he could find out this way, right? what crueler move than to put him in his girlfriend’s team. but he’s not. he’s not so it can’t be, right? having to ask these questions upset him and he could ignore them, keep them buried or toss them out of his mind because he knows better but hannah makes them stick.

her reasons, his rebuttals, they’re stuck, trapped in his mouth as he tries swallowing his pride to just make it through this call so hannah can say her piece and he can be content with the fact that he tried, that he does what he’s been taught to do, that he listened instead of dismissing her thoughts.

but this doesn’t feel right.

it doesn’t feel right, to feel like this because of a loved one. his sister tells him this because she’s concerned, because she loves him, but fuck he forgot how much love can hurt when he’s been sheltered since the moment mijoo first said she likes him and then when she said she loves him. sheltered until the moment he was asked to give her name and he hurt everyone around him. sheltered because he thought he was safe and he spends every week thinking he’s not despite what others say. other contestants, netizens, his friends. being labeled as a supposed golden boy, as a favorite when he knows a lot of it is probably because his participation alone causes drama and invites competitiveness.

another case of damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t.

every week opens him up to comparison, to judgment, to the possibility of elimination, to the reminder that he’s much older now, that he’s older than… all of the contestants left? probably— it opens him up to someone saying if they can keep up with him, if they can beat him, what kind of idol was he? what was the real reason he’s no longer in convex? it’s an exaggeration, more likely, but he knows it’s there, that some contestants see him as the one to beat and then what? what’s next for both of them? for all of them?

what’s next— that’s what his sister doesn’t touch on and she should. that’s an answer he definitely doesn’t have right now. he just wants to know right now, he wants to know that stage, standing in front of all five ceos again, hearing the audience, knowing he hasmore to him, that he can change, that he can grow again and it could work this time. he might make less mistakes along the way this time.

he hears it again, you should quit, and he has the answer. he’s held onto it for years, kept it to himself like some sacred treasure. it’s validation. when he came to seoul, when he moved his whole life for the chance to be on stage, the mgas gave him validation and he could be too desperate for it after having to leave convex but so what?

she’s seen his performance for the skill battle— the one time he could say it without feeling choked up like he is now.

don’t know why i’m pathetic and don’t have nerve.

he doesn’t want to be like that anymore. he doesn’t care in the end if they’re going to make a fool of him. this is for him. this is for mijoo. this is for everyone who believes in him. everything else is just noise. he wants to keep showing that he’s more than what he’s being called, he want his sister to believe he’s still on the show because ofhis performance.

“please, hannah… i need you to trust that i know what i’m doing.”

he has to grow up sometime, handle his own battles, and she needs to let him.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ PRESS PLAY, BACK TO THE SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING

●●●●●● LAST WEEK, ON THE FOURTH EPISODE OF MGA S5 — 7월 25일 ●●●●●●

those words are weaved with his name again, along with kyul’s and heejin’s, but he doesn’t feel as happy as he wants to be. because top three isn’t the same as number one and he feels guilt settling on his skin the more his feelings unfurl— truthfully, he is happy but he’s happy for nakyung because she won without him, because she proved she is more than her partner, and he feels so fucking relieved when it’s not his burden to bear or he shouldn’t take it on. it is his burden, he thinks, but he shouldn’t let it affect him now, he shouldn’t let it affect his current teammates. because he’s sorry to them, he’s sorry that maybe they thought they’ll get the win because he’s there but they didn’t.

still, he hugs them when they’re told they’re top three, smiles fondly at how kyul and heejin hold hands, and he wants to protect him the same way he wanted to protect nakyung but he can’t. he can’t worry for them at the same time while they’re also each other’s competition and then there’s seunghun. he wants to see seunghun reach the finals too. he wants themall to reach the finals but, even then, there’s a chance none of them could win and he comes to another realization: is he really sorry to them or is he sorry to himself too? is he covering for the fact that he wants to win, wants to stay at number one, but feels ashamed that people think he shouldn’t even be here? he can’t continue to hide his shame or his greed in his fondness for them and so when he talks to both of them after the filming, he apologizes but there’s no welling of his eyes like he’d done when facing seunghun next week.

no, he needs to stay strong, especially after seeing the coaches.

he can’t think about it, he shouldn’t. instead, he places more rules on himself like no looking at his girlfriend even if it’s been months now since he held her, since he got to be with her, since she was this close. she stands closer to jinki and jinwook than to him and he closes his eyes for a second, hears the siren call competing with the background music of convex’s debut song.

he can’t be like this. he can’t. not when he chose this again, to put her through this, to put them through this, he can’t waver when he’s so close. he swears he’ll make it back to standing on the same stage as them again.

standing outside the trc building, he’s unable to take the first few steps closer just like the week before when he was outside sphere. this time, it’s for different reasons. this time, it’s a team he’s working with. this time, they all know at least one person will be eliminated no matter what and he worries he’ll step in there and it’ll be peak competitive hours. what if he walks in and they look at him like he’s poison? he’s choi minho, must be moving onto the finals right? wrong, he wants to tell them all they’re wrong, that he feels the need to fight for his right to be there as much as they do, but that’s not for his team. that’s something he should tell the camera, the audience, something he ought to say to everyone and not just his team who haven’t done anything wrong to him yet.

dinner the night before seemed good. some were shy and some were more outgoing. he’s used to that, feels like he does well in those situations, especially when they’re at the restaurant he used to work at, with his old boss proudly serving them himself and telling stories about how minho was a mess when he started there. he thinks he did a helluva better than his old boss says but he wouldn’t fight with him either, minho adores the old man too much, is fond of him like a genuine uncle, and it makes him more comfortable to be there, to be with his new team for the week. they’re all dancers from what he remembers and while that should be his first hint they’ll be amazing, he knows there’s a chance they could clash over it too.

he’s wrapped up in his thoughts again, standing there at an ungodly hour because he couldn’t sleep and the last thing he expects is for seik and dabin to show up again.

“you guys are like ticks.”

“shit, who peed into your cheerios this morning?”

“it’s barely morning,” seik grimaces, stifling a yawn with his arm before stretching his arms above his head. “when do you sleep?”

“he doesn’t,” dabin says, less jokingly than both minho and seik expect, both looking at him. the youngest shrugs and kicks a stone on the sidewalk. “he did this last week too. it’s like we gotta hold his hand so he goes inside. what would you do without us?” his cheekiness comes back as swiftly as it disappeared for a moment and minho rolls his eyes, reaching out to push dabin away from him.

“i know what i said before,” seik starts off. “but i don’t wanna see you shaking in your boots all the time. you’re making us look bad.”

“yeah, as the official rep of kill.u.strate—”

“woah, woah, woah, who said i’m the official rep?”

“we voted.”

“without me there.”

“same difference.”

he’s laughing and looking up at the sky. the sun’ll rise within the hour, he’s guessing. sunrises and sunsets hit differently now.

“can you go in now since you laughed?”

“we didn’t bring jae so there’s no clown wig in your bag this time.”

“i know it’s there.” there’s a hushed damn from dabin’s direction and minho rolls his eyes once more. “you guys didn’t have to come.”

“you’d do the same.”

“you did the same.”

minho doesn’t look at either of them, knows what they’re referring to and he thinks it’s pointless to bring up now. he made his choice, didn’t go to that starbright audition. yeah, he could’ve maybe signed with nova earlier than he did the first time but who knows if he would’ve made it in anyway? what if it wouldn’t change the outcome and where he is now? who he is now?

all he knows is that he has family and friends who love him and he’d be damned if he doesn’t go in there trying to make more friends despite the competition because he thinks they do or will resent him. it’s not like him. he tells himself this again and decides to go, clapping a hand on both their shoulders before he walks off.

“hyung!” dabin calls out to him and minho knows it like clockwork, turning with a smile and pounding a closed fist against his chest before pointing back. isn’t he letting mnet back into his head every day at this point?

he’d been right about some parts, that there would be a disagreement but it comes down more to their song choice than the choreography or anything else, which is surprising to him. surprising but it feels great too. at least he knows they’re all passionate about it, all have their own opinion, and all want this to work, to work together.

the song is one he thinks of as fun and he enjoys those kind of performances the most. it’s fun but the choreography from the peeks he takes at yeji and hyunggu when they’re working on it while he, ryujin, and chaeryeong work on their raps, reworking and rewriting it to be their own, to be personal, makes him grin because he thinks they might not all have the same styles but they see eye to eye on what the choreography should be for a song like this. that’s all he can ask for, all he wants, and it’s more fun when they work on everything together, the pieces falling in place in a way dancers and choreographers can best communicate: throughmovement.

from icebreakers to shared food to drinks, he thinks little by little they’re becoming more of a team, more of a maybe somewhat dysfunctional family because they’re not all particularly close but he could see it getting there. maybe if they could have more time, maybe if they didn’t have to deal with that looming elimination over their heads despite how well they do.

working with the coaches is different for him and he senses a kind of hesitation or pause when it comes to him. he understands. he’d be the same way at first but he’s also the type to let something go in a second, to brush things off like that, especially the past. minho’s been doing that for so long that he doesn’t think of how it doesn’t necessarily work the same for others so he’s patient, happy when they talk to him without honorifics, without hesitation, and he expresses his appreciation of all of them, as coaches and on the mgas before. age, status, whatever, he thinks he has a chance to learn from anyone at least once in his life.

●●●●●● NEXT ON STAGE, WE ARE YOUR ANTIDOTE, EP. 5 — 8월 1일 ●●●●●●

their introduction is one he thinks of as cheeky as their performance will be. it’s another dance battle, he realizes, but he hopes the other aspects will make up for it the way they used those differences to help chaeryeong feel comfortable about doing a song by the same artist as her performance the week before.

the set-up is different this week and he has a sense of nostalgia for being able to see everyone in the same room at once, to watch the stage live and mere feet away, when it’s only been a week. it’s like post-concert depression, he’ll call it post-stage depression and chuckle at how he’ll miss filming for the show and it’s not even the last episode yet.

outfits coordinated, choreography perfected, and lyrics memorized, he tries to walk onto the stage last so he can see them all just before they get up there, so he can smile wistfully at how he wishes they had more time: to get to know each other, to work on more songs, to explore all the styles each of them have and learn from each other all over again. he wishes they’ll have another chance to do this again.

nostalgia doesn’t suit the song and after their intros, he changes, he becomes the dancer he was born to be. the performer he’s hoping to continue to be from here on out.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ WHIPLASH ♫ CHOREOGRAPHY IS SELF-CREATED BY HYUNGGU AND YEJI W/ GROUP CONTRIBUTIONS // ALL RAPS ARE SELF-WRITTEN BY EACH RAPPER // * DENOTES CHANGED LYRICS NOTE: THE GESTURES & EXPRESSIONS IN VIDEO ARE SIMILAR IF NOT WRITTEN !

he takes the first rap verse, the theme of male vs female dance battle hinted at in their formation, in the color of their clothes, in the choreography, and he wouldn’t tell anyone but he thinks the girls’ choreography has the most impact. he’s the more impressed by it, not because the first part isn’t as great, but because of their formation changes and how theylook performing it. he could imagine them promoting as a group and that alone makes him feel like they’re all getting there, like one of them doesn’t have to go home and they can all move on together. it’d be ideal but it’s also more naive than he wants.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ EVERY WEEK, EVERY THURSDAY*

복잡해진 마음, 숨을 내쉰다* I GET MIXED FEELINGS AS I BREATHE OUT

오늘 뭐 실수는 없었었나* DID I MAKE ANY MISTAKES TODAY?

관객들의 표정은 어땠던가* HOW DID THE AUDIENCE SEEM?

그래도 행복해 난 이런 내가 돼서* I’M HAPPY WITH WHO I’VE BECOME

그 때 만약 오지 않았다면 PHONE CALL 형 부모 세게 품에 안고나서 떴지 “아르바*” IT WOULD’VE BEEN DANGEROUS IF NOT FOR THAT PHONE CALL I LEFT MY PART-TIME JOB

어느새 나는 너의 옆 여긴 더 위에서 움직일 공간이 많으니깐 SAID GOODBYE TO MY PARENTS AND MY BROTHER SUDDENLY, I’M NEXT TO YOU

어서 올라와 GIRL SO COME ON GIRL ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

his lyrics cater to the story of his journey on the mgas, for all the contestants who have everything riding on this too. as ryujin joins in with him on certain lines, he feels more adrenaline coursing through his veins.

dancing like this, rapping like this again, it’s different than his previous performances. he’s part of a team again.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ 전진 끝없이 달리네 꿈을 향해* I KEEP RUNNING TOWARDS MY DREAMS

점점 날 비워가네 언제까지 내 것일* I START TO LET MYSELF GO

순 없어 큰 박수갈채가* THE THUNDERING APPLAUSE, I CAN’T OWN IT FOREVER

이런 내게 말을 해, 뻔뻔히* I TELL MYSELF SHAMELESSLY

니 목소릴 높여 더 멀리* RAISE YOUR VOICE HIGHER

영원한 관객은 없대도* EVEN IF THE ATTENTION ISN’T FOREVER

난 ��속 갈거야, 계속 랩 할거야* I’LL KEEP GOING, I’LL KEEP RAPPING

오늘의 나로 영원하고파* I WANT TO STAY THIS WAY FOR LIFE

영원히 예능인이고 싶어 난 AH* I WANT TO BE AN ENTERTAINER FOR LIFE ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

the girls take over and he can feel the surge of energy on the stage. even as they move into the dance battle, there’s electricity between them. currents running from one person to the next, almost too chaotic until chaeryeong brings them back together, as she did in practice. it’s poetic how they managed to work it in.

SHORTY GIVE ME WHIP-WHIPLASH

this is it. it’s becoming a pattern, how he says this every week. it’s right. this feels right, and he can take that back to his sister the next time she calls.

no, the next time she calls, he’ll make sure there’s no way she could tell him to quit now. this is his journey.

I WANT TO BE AN ENTERTAINER FOREVER

PROFILE / SKILLS / AUDITION / EPISODE 3 / EPISODE 4 / EPISODE 5 ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ EP. 6: PERFORMANCE / INTERVIEW

#rkmga5 #rkmga5groups #rkheejin #rkkyul #rkseunghun #rkkhg #rkchaeryeong #ryujinrk #rkyeji #I'LL FIX TAGS LATER BC IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN KJSDFHJ #also i'll fix this placeholder pic skdjfh jsk

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hailqiqi · 6 years ago

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2019 Fic Round-Up

Writer buddies, let’s do this (as in, if you haven’t yet, do yours too!)

Stats:

(I’m going with a random quote from each one because I’m a fan of long summaries.)

Fics Posted (Gen): 3

A Little Taste of What Should Have Been

And that was how Pidge found herself kneeling sideways on the couch, face inches away from Lance’s shoulder as he disinfected first two sewing needles and then the earrings with a professional air.

Wriggle, Jiggle, Bake!

“Okay, so you’ve been magically de-aged — because apparently that’s a thing. Why is that a thing? Whatever. Of course it’s a thing out here."

Here

“Don’t make it weird, Lance,” she huffed, already tugging him into the room and closing the door behind them. “C’mon. I’ll help you wash all that off.”

Fics Posted (Plance Oneshots): 7

2 x 100 word drabbles

(Domestic Fantasy & Kabedon)

The Advantages of Being Small

“I couldn’t help it! It was just too tempting!”

Untangle to Wait, Unravel to See

Of course a fortune teller would appear as soon as he started talking about one. They were on a magical world with magical aliens and Lance was like, the hero of the story, so it made sense that events would be tied to his dialogue. Most importantly, it was not creepy at all, and anyone who said Lance was creeped out could go suck it.

the world is out there, my dear, but we're in here

Pidge froze. The reaction was so subtle that Lance would have missed it if he hadn't been watching for it -- she relaxed herself almost immediately, eyebrows raised in casual challenge -- but she'd reacted, all the same.

so it turns out I kinda missed you

Grumbling, Lance crossed his arms and sunk back into his seat. “I could’ve come to get her on my own, you know.” “Yeah, but then you wouldn’t be able to make out in the back seat on the way home.”

The Stars Aren't the Same for You and I

Dancing with Pidge was fun.

Fics Posted (Plance Chaptered): 2 (1.5?)

Skirting Katabasis

"So... Do you think you could put it back together?" Pidge tilted the tablet towards her and looked at him hard. His expression was hesitant, but his eyes were soft...almost pleading. She smirked. "Who do you think I am, Keith?”

The Future in Snippets (Chapters 3-5)

In truth, she had no idea what was fine. Her brain had switched off several heartbeats ago, but she couldn’t really find it in herself to care.

Fics Posted (Plance Collabs): 2

Smack, Kiss, Fall in Love (even chapters)

The prince doesn’t ignore the princess for the nerdy sidekick. Even if that sidekick was a badass fighter who’d saved his life countless times. Or a genius who constantly left his head spinning. Or totally into the same video games that defined Lance’s childhood, and the owner of a smile so blinding it made the stars look dim.

(shoutout to @sp4c3-0ddity, my co-conspirator who made Pidge’s star so bright!)

It's Beginning to Look a Lot like A Christmas Carol (Prologue & Chap 1)

“An intervention?” “Sure. Have you ever seen A Christmas Carol?” His mind freezes. “You mean the Dickens book?” “Uh…” Keith’s dad trails off, blinking. “No, the movie. With the little green man? I think they made a version with the grouchy duck, too.”

(shoutout to the awesome @rueitae and @sp4c3-0ddity who brought both the crack and the tears essential items for any Christmas party all we’re missing is the food fight and divorce)

Total Fics Posted: 14

Oooh wow. That’s more than one a month!

Ship/Character Breakdown:

Ship Breakdown: Plance, with over 75%

[colleen image]

Character Breakdown: Pidge and Lance are in 100% of my fics. Hunk is next in 5 (with 1 POV!), then Keith and Allura both get 3 (both even get POV parts and Keith’s a major focus in Skirting Katabasis), then Shiro, Coran and Lance/Pidge’s families are more bit players.

I only just realized that the chapter in Smack, Kiss, Fall in Love is the only time I’ve really written Shiro. And now I’m horrified because Shiro was my first love.

Characters that had the Main Focus: 6 +1 Lance POV, 4+2 Pidge POV, 2 Switching POV fics and then the drabbles don’t count. I actually started out the year tearing my hair out because I related to Pidge so much more, but now I really enjoy writing Lance. It’s actually a little tricky to get into Pidge’s headspace to work on my chaptereds sometimes.

Specifics

Best/Worst Title?

Best Skirting Katabasis. C’mon. That’s like, literary (Katabasis being hell or destruction in Greek mythos). Worst Untangle to Wait, Unravel to See. I had help with it but this fic was just so hard to name.

Best/worst last line?

Best I tend to structure my chapters/one-shots around the last line so…this is hard.

"What took you so long? I've been waiting for you."

(Untangle to Wait, Unravel to See)

My personal favourite, though, is from so it turns out I kinda missed you:

Luis laughed. “Hi, Not-My-Girlfriend. I’m Not-His-Brother, Luis.”

Worst

Hunk just laughed. “You can’t fix that right now, so you might as well have some fun!”

(Wriggle, Jiggle, Bake!) So cheesey.

The last line that gives me personal arghs is from Here:

He buried his face in her sodden hair and cried.

...because a day after posting I realised that I should’ve written wept, dammit, and now it annoys me every time I see it.

Honourable mention to The Advantages of Being Small for winning the no-context award:

“Reckon I could fit three fingers up there?”

General Questions

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

Way more than I thought! I think I had planned out about 8? Of those I wrote two (zine fics), started but haven’t finished 2, and the other 4 are still pending.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

None, my obsessions are long-lasting and constant.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Skirting Katabasis or It’s Beginning to Look a Lot like A Christmas Carol. Though TBH I enjoy re-reading most of the stuff I posted in the last 6 months.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

In every single metric on AO3 it’s The Future in Snippets. Y’all like your porn (even if there’s not much of it).

On tumblr it’s Wriggle, Jiggle, Bake! by like 100 notes.

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

If this is a roundabout way of saying ‘What’s your LEAST popular story?’ it’s The Advantages of Being Small, but TBH that’s a very short crack-ficlet so it doesn’t bother me (same with the drabbles).

If the question is “What fic do you think people should like MORE?” the answer is Skirting Katabasis. It’s fifth on the list for bookmarks and 9th for Kudos, and I’m not sure why?? Does it sound too gen? Do you not like Platonic Adventure Kidge? Honestly y’all are missing out it’s like the best thing I’ve ever written. Hands down.

Story that could have been better?

The Future in Snippets. Hands down. It was started on a whim, as a practice fic for another idea I’ve been nurturing for even longer, and back when I was newer at this writing thing. It wasn’t very tightly plotted – in fact the plot was expanded upon and changed multiple times before I settled on what I have now, several chapters in – and certain things that should have been seeded were left out of earlier chapters because I wasn’t experienced enough to figure out how to work them in and foolishly thought ‘oh, it won’t matter! Such a small detail!’, so now I’m scratching my head trying to figure out how to compensate.

I tend to work off very tight outlines, but Snippets was missing that for a large part of the process and I think it shows. I do think I’ve done a good job nailing the emotion in it, though, and that’s like 95% of the fic so as long as I keep that up it’ll all be fine.

Sexiest story?

The Future in Snippets is smut so… First place for SFW sexy goes to the world is out there, my dear, but we’re in here.

Saddest story?

I think The Stars Aren’t the Same for You and I wins because it’s a heartbreaking situation with no good resolution. There’s no comfort to be found there.

Most fun?

A Little Taste of What Should Have Been. It’s just…fun!

The most fun I had writing was Smack, Kiss, Fall in Love, because it was challenging, and I’d wake up every day excited to find out what had happened in the last chapter overnight.

Story with single sweetest moment?

The Future in Snippets (Chapter 4)

“Um…” She turned the brush in her hands over again before holding it up sheepishly. “Do you remember how you said you’d braid my hair?”

Lance’s whole face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?!”

A giggle escaped her lips and she smiled, nodding. “Really.”

Hardest story to write?

The Future in Snippets. The emotions in this fic have become a convoluted mess and it is growing exponentially harder to write as I continue. I simply don’t have the level of skill required, but by God I will find it so that I can finish it properly.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

Skirting Katabasis! The outline for this fic is tight, and I freaking love writing this fic. Like I just feel like smiling the whole process. I don’t know why. It feels like the wrong answer because it’s a fairly involved fic, but I just enjoy everything about it.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

Smack, Kiss, Fall in Love actually gave me a much better understanding of Lance. Skirting Katabasis made me really look at Keith and realise that hey – the dude is actually very emotional, very chatty, and very soft (he’s so often typecast as the ‘moody loner’ because that’s what they call him in the show but he really doesn’t act like that).

Most overdue story?

Uh. The Future in Snippets was originally scheduled to be finished in January 2018, so… I also have a soulmate WIP which was meant to be for V-Day 2018.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I started to play about with other POVs, and discovered that I can write other POVs? I also did two collabs! The first one I discovered that Reem really is a sweetheart, and with the second I discovered that either I’m really bossy or really persuasive or both maybe I should go into politics.

I also did a couple of events and zines and exchanges. I discovered that piece-writing – like writing with a target/deadline/outside expectation – does not agree with me, and I will no longer sign up for events/zines/exchanges.

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

1. Finish my WIPs.

2. Write my Pidge Makes Bad Decisions fic!

3. That’s about it really. Can you take over the world by writing fic? If so, that’s going on the list.

#fic round-up #writing stuff #this was fun to do #i had never noticed how little love katabasis gets #WHY DON'T YOU LOVE IT

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botanistlester · 7 years ago

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Sweet Pea (14/34)

Summary: A nickname that goes bitter in your mouth. Cries for help that no one listens to. Gentle hands that make you quake on the ground you’re standing on. When Phil first met Nico, he thought he was a gift from the heavens. But behind the mask lies something daunting, something unnerving, that Phil never foresaw. Through his journey, he finds solace in Dan, the regular at his workplace, who seems to be the only one who sees through Nico’s mask to the darkness underneath. Warnings: Abusive relationship, violence A/N: So i had to split chapter 14 into two different parts because otherwise this chapter was going to be literally 8k words long and I didn’t want that, so that means that I had to bump up the number of chapters yaaay (uggghh). thanks to @snowbunnylester for editing this for me! The lyrics at the beginning of this fic are from the song Misanthropic Drunken Loner by Days N Daze!

I have started a patreon account for those of you who would like to support me and my writing endeavors! You can find my patreon account here, and also find more information about perks of this here!

Previous | Masterlist

Read it on AO3 Read it on Wattpad

Chapter Fourteen

I feel like we're playing tug of war and i'm the rope and i'm stretched to the limit but you keep on pulling it. I'm gonna lose my god damned mind.

Three days passed before Phil decided to suck it up and go back to his own apartment. By then, the swelling of his tongue had gone down enough that he could finally talk properly, and his phone already had another twenty-two missed calls.

It had been four days since Nico had left. Four days since he had told Phil that he had three days to make a decision. Four days since Nico had left Phil crying on the shower floor with a bruise on his cheek and a shattered heart.

The fact of the matter was that Phil didn’t actually feel ready to go back home. He didn’t want to see the place where Nico had spent hours per day lounging on his couch or sleeping in his bed. He didn’t want to see the items Nico had forgotten, strewn across his floor. He didn’t want to lay in his bed and smell the musky, flowery scent of Nico left on his sheets. He didn’t want to arrive at a place where Nico had promised him he would find someone else if Phil didn’t decide to come back to him in three days.

His mum had kissed him on the cheek and sent him off with a bag of freshly-baked cookies, completely unaware of his inner turmoil. She had told him to call her if he needed anything and to let her know if or when he decided to drop out of class (little did she know, he had already done so the night he had suggested the idea).

When he’d left his mum’s, though, he’d thought he could do it. He’d thought he could unlock his door and walk inside as if it were nothing. He’d thought he could lay on the couch with a bag of crisps and horrible reruns of New Girl and forget that the last year with Nico had ever happened.

But he soon found out that he just couldn’t do it.

His apartment building loomed over him, tall and seeming like it was just waiting to eat him up. He hadn’t even gotten to his own door before he’d begun to shake, his feet glued to the spot. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t move no matter how hard he tried to. There was a bitter taste raising in his throat, his forehead was beginning to sweat, and he was certain that he was going to puke.

Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket and he drew it out with quivering fingers. Dan’s name flashed across his screen, and he didn’t even think about it before he unlocked his phone and dialed Dan’s number.

The phone rang once before Dan answered, voice both urgent and concerned. “Hello? Phil?”

Phil took a deep, shaky breath. He didn’t know if it was a good idea to call Dan yet, but it was better than nothing. He just hoped Dan didn’t hate him enough to deny him company in this trying time.

“I know that you probably hate me after everything that’s happened, but I just got home and I’m standing outside of my flat and I can’t- I can’t do it,” he rambled, his words coming out in a quick succession of breath. “I keep thinking about how much time Nico has spent with me there and I feel sick and I want to go inside but I physically can’t. I want- I don’t-!” He cut himself off because he was breathing too hard to formulate any other words. It was like his chest had suddenly restricted and he couldn’t breathe.

“Phil? Phil, take some deep breaths,” Dan said quietly, his voice sounding tinny and detached through the phone. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. I’m not mad at you, I’m still here for you whenever you need me, okay?” Phil nodded, even though Dan couldn’t see him. He tried to breathe, to get himself to settle down, but it was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his life. “Do you need me to come over? You don’t have to tackle this alone.”

Phil nodded again, a tiny sob escaping his throat. “Y-yes ple-ease.”

“I’ll be right over, okay? I’m gonna get off the phone now so I can get over there.”

“No!” Phil shouted before he could stop himself. He shivered, taking another deep breath before he could start hyperventilating again. “Can y-you stay on the phone w-with me?”

He heard Dan let out a sad sounding chuckle that wasn’t really a chuckle at all. Instead, Dan sounded rather sad when he laughed. Phil didn’t like that at all. He felt as though he was the cause for this. Or even worse, he felt as though maybe Dan didn’t even want to talk to him anymore, and that’s why he’d done such an awkward laugh. “Of course. I won’t hang up the phone.” Phil was grateful for that, even though he probably didn’t deserve the amount of kindness after everything he’d put Dan through.

But true to his word, Dan stayed on the phone with him. Even if they weren’t speaking the entire time, Phil enjoyed his company. The sound of Dan’s breathing calmed him down a considerable amount, made it so Phil’s quivering ceased just slightly. Phil kind of disconnected. He could see, could hear, but he couldn’t really focus on anything. The only thing he could truly focus on was the door to his flat and how it was so close, so familiar, but with a strange darkness that he couldn’t really put his finger on it.

Before he knew it, Dan was there beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders. He was a warmth amidst the coolness of the morning breeze, the safety net that Phil wasn’t entirely sure he deserved. It was with that that Phil came back to reality, shaking his head and looking up at Dan to see that Dan was smiling softly at him.

“We can do this,” Dan told him.

His voice a promise, and the words were the first and only words Dan had spoken to him in person since Phil had kicked him out. He didn’t mention the past, Phil’s new piercings, or even why Phil was having a break down in front of his flat. Instead, he was soothing, trying to coax Phil into tackling this hurdle. Together.

“You ready to do this with me? I won’t leave your side.”

Phil hesitated, Dan’s assurances ringing through his ears. Dan wasn’t leaving. Dan was right there. He didn’t have to enter his home by himself. Dan was there.

Slowly, he nodded his head. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he breathed, feeling a bit dizzy.

Actually going inside was a slow process. Phil cried. A lot. Dan had to rub his back and tell him that Nico wasn’t inside, that Phil didn’t have to see him anymore. He didn’t know whether he was glad or sad that Nico wasn’t there. He didn’t know whether he wanted to even see him, but something in him yearned for Nico.

He wondered what would happen if Nico showed up on his doorstep; if he would run away screaming or fall into his arms. For some reason, Phil reckoned he would do the latter.

Phil put the lock into the doorknob, but he didn’t twist it yet. He took some deep breaths. In, out, in out. He swore he could already smell the lingering scent of Nico in the air. His mind was playing tricks on him, telling him all about the time where Nico had pressed him against the door and kissed the fuck out of him, at least until their neighbour had walked past and told them to at least go inside. They had laughed so much then, but now, Phil’s lungs felt restricted, like he could hardly breathe, and he swayed a little on his feet as he finally turned the lock to get out of his headspace.

As soon as he entered the flat, Phil’s chest got tight. He could see memories of Nico all the way from his front door. There was a shirt on the couch that belonged to Nico, there was a dish of banana bread they’d baked together sitting on the counter, even a framed picture of he and Nico wearing matching Pokemon shirts. He could smell the musky scent of Nico lingering in the air, as though it was never going to go away, and Phil went to light a candle before remembering that Nico had given him the Pumpkin Pie candle sitting atop his window sill, and he stopped himself in his tracks.

There was too much. It was too much.

“I’m going to be sick,” Phil gasped before he was bolting to the bathroom, Dan hot on his tail.

He didn’t throw up.

For that, he was thankful. Instead, he was sweaty, and cold, and he couldn’t stop spitting up in the toilet, trying to expel something from his stomach. Dan rubbing his back the whole time and held a cold towel to the back of his neck, but it only helped slightly. How pathetic could he be, nearly puking because he’d walked into his own home?

“I’m sorry,” Phil whimpered into the toilet. He was practically hugging the appliance, his arms resting on the seat and his forehead resting atop his arms.

He didn’t have to look to know that Dan was shaking his head. Perhaps Phil just knew him that well now that he could predict his actions before he did them. He could also guess Dan’s next words, which were, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

But the fact of the matter was that Phil did have to be sorry. Dan didn’t deserve this. He deserved better than Phil. He shouldn’t have to spend his weekend taking care of a twenty-year old man who was just going through a bad break up. It was just a break up, for God’s sake! They happened all the time, and yet Phil was acting as if he’d just been shot!

Phil wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and attempted to stand up. He didn’t know how long he’d been on his knees in front of the toilet, only knew that it must have been a long time from the way his knees cracked

“Alright. Okay. I think I should be fine. Let’s just… watch the telly or something.”

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Dan asked quietly, brushing Phil’s hair out of his face. He didn’t flinch when Phil slapped his hand away, didn’t even look phased. Maybe he understood Phil better than he’d originally thought.

“I want to be normal,” Phil told him, putting the damp towelette on the counter and beginning to walk to the lounge. “I want to go back to how things were before he poisoned my home.”

Except Phil didn’t remember how things used to be. He could only remember vague things; he liked to sing even though he was horrible at it, he enjoyed school and had wanted to be an English teacher one day, he liked to write stories, he liked to wear v-necks and tank tops because he liked the way they felt against his skin...

He didn’t really sing anymore, not even in the shower. He’d dropped out of school and honestly didn’t see much of a future for himself, so he didn’t write much anymore either. And he certainly didn’t wear v-necks or tank tops, instead sticking to unflattering band shirts, baggy jumpers, and jeans.

Why had he changed so much in such a short period of time, and why couldn’t he remember how he acted before all of this? Why couldn’t he remember how to be himself? Why couldn’t he remember what being happy without Nico was?

Dan didn’t argue anymore. He merely nodded and helped Phil get back to the living room with one hand hovering comfortingly behind Phil’s back but never actually touching. It was both uncomfortable and nice, so Phil didn’t say anything, merely collapsing on the couch the second he and Dan reached the front of it. Of course, that’s when a loud knock sounded at the door. Phil gave Dan an alarmed stare, his heart sinking to his knees. He hadn’t been expecting anyone else.

Only a single thought ran through his head as his heart started pounding so loud he could feel it thrumming throughout his body.

He hadn’t locked the door.

Standing, Phil shifted to move quickly towards the door, to lock it, to lock out whoever was there, afraid to find out who it might be. He didn’t want to deal with anyone, especially if that someone was someone he didn’t welcome here. Because the thing was, he knew exactly who it was. The only person who didn’t let him know ahead of time before showing up was Nico, the same Nico who made Phil’s entire body shake, who made Phil’s head so loud he couldn’t think.

But before he could get to the door, the knob turned, the door was pushed open, and there in the threshold stood the angriest man that Phil had ever seen.

Nico.

Rage was coming off of him in the form of flames. His green eyes held venom that choked Phil, making him unable to breathe. His curly hair was wild, more out of place than Phil had ever seen, and his muscles were practically bulging through his shirt, even though he wasn’t even that fit. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and his nostrils were flared, and Phil completely shrunk under his gaze.

He could see Dan get up out of the corner of his eye, could see the way Nico’s eyes immediately flicked over to Dan, his face getting ever angrier. Phil didn’t want to be here. He shouldn’t have come back. He should have stayed at his mum’s for much longer, until Nico had forgotten who he was, until Phil couldn’t remember the way his name sounded coming from pretty pink lips.

Pretty pink lips that had the power to destroy him.

Nico shut the door behind him. The sound made Phil wince and cave in on himself a little bit. He was shivering, quaking in his shoes, and he didn’t really know when he had gotten so afraid of Nico, but suddenly he couldn’t stop. When Nico laughed, his head thrown back, his voice booming through the unfamiliar familiarness of the room, Phil’s lungs nearly collapsed.

“So this is what you’ve been up to, huh?” Nico asked, his tone quiet and icy cold. His eyes flickered between Phil and Dan, his lips screwing up in a nasty frown. “As soon as I leave, you find another man to fuck? I suppose that’s what sluts do, though. They just fuck and fuck until they can’t anymore.” It seemed then that Nico zeroed in on the piercing in Phil’s nose, one that was suddenly so heavy that Phil imagined he could barely lift his head up anymore.

Nico made a disgusted noise. “A septum piercing? Seriously? I didn’t think you could get even more ugly, but I proved myself wrong.”

Phil’s eyes burned at the words, and he sniffled. He felt filthy, disgusting. How could he have ever believed Nico thought he was beautiful? Of course he wasn’t, but Nico had loved him anyway, and Phil had been so lucky... He clenched his teeth shut so he didn’t open his mouth and show off the other piercing hidden inside. He couldn’t believe he’d let himself do something like this, that he’d knowingly gone behind Nico’s back to get something that Nico obviously hated.

Now Nico would never want him again.

Phil didn’t get a chance to speak up and reply, however, as Dan spoke up before him. For once, Phil actually let him speak. He didn’t want to kick Dan out again. He didn’t want to let him go. For a single moment, Phil wanted to cling onto him, to never let him go.

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” Dan said coolly, crossing his arms over his chest. Phil couldn’t look at either of them anymore, so he just stared at his socked feet, at how one sock had hot sauce on it and the other had lemons. “You can’t just barge in here and badmouth Phil like that. You’re not welcome here anymore. Phil’s allowed to do what he wants now. And I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t want you here.”

Phil didn’t need to look at Nico to know that he was probably preparing for murder. He didn’t need to look to know the exact expression that showed on his face right then. The way that his eyes narrowed, how his mouth screwed up in a nasty snarl, how he seemed to loom over them despite his short stature. Phil kept his eyes on the ground, even as Nico spoke.

Phil’s vision began to swim a bit. He hated himself. He hated that he was so scared of the man that he was so in love with. He hated that he was considering abandoning Nico just like Nico’s father abandoned him. He hated that he felt crazy, like he was torn between two feelings - longing and fear - and it was quite literally making him question his own sanity. He was a mess, and anybody could clearly see that.

“Is that so?” Nico asked, his voice strangely calm to anybody’s ears but Phil’s. To Phil, that tone was menacing. That tone meant he was planning something. “Then why don’t you let him tell me that?”

Phil flinched. He couldn’t see the ground anymore through the tears welling in his eyes. His throat felt like it was clogged with cotton wool and there was no way he would be able to speak.

“Well, Phil?” Nico asked him, and he stepped closer, much to Phil’s dismay. “Are you gonna tell me to leave? That you don’t want me anymore? That you don’t love me anymore?”

Before Phil could stop himself, he was shaking his head no. It was like his body had a mind of it’s own, one that he couldn’t control or sway in the slightest. As soon as he heard the word ‘love’, it was like his body went on autopilot and he automatically wanted to scream at the top of his lungs how much he loved Nico, how much he wanted to be with him.

He turned to Dan, keeping his eyes low. “Can you let us have a minute?” he asked quietly, a tremor in his voice that shouldn’t have been there. What was he afraid of? Why was he afraid? It was just Nico. He just had to prove to Nico that he was good, that he was worth continuing to love.

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Dan murmured back, putting a soothing hand on Phil’s shoulder that Nico scoffed at. “I don’t want him to ruin you.”

Phil shrugged.

Too late, his mind whispered.

“I’ll be okay,” he said out loud.

For a moment, it didn’t look like Dan believed him. He studied Phil’s face carefully, intently, eyes soft but piercing. Phil refused to look at him, shoulders hunched forward, body curled inward, and he knew he didn’t look convincing, and yet, still, Dan finally sighed, and agreed with a short glare sent Nico’s way.

“I’ll just be in the other room,” Dan declared, watching Phil for another moment before he turned and made his way into the other room, leaving Phil alone with the love of his life and his worst enemy.

Phil was completely unsure of how to act around Nico now, like an empty shell, so he just stood, and he waited.

Chapter Fifteen

#sweet pea #sp #botanistfics #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #phan angst #phan happy ending #phan chaptered #botanistlester

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babylon-bitch · 7 years ago

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Just Friends ~ Drown (part 62)

A/N: I write around 9 or 10 chapter a head, and currently I’m writing the Christmas chapters. I want to get those out around the holiday season, so you’re gonna get around 2 or 3 chapters a week for a while, just a heads up so you don’t get confused. Also this is Harper’s cover: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FU5ifmugneM

Harper White is best friends with Luke Hemmings, they always have been. Not only is she friends with the rockstar, but with the rest of 5 Seconds Of Summer, as well as a really nice girl named Erika.

Harper has a few secrets, she can play all the instruments the boys play and many more. It’s a talent she has kept hidden, only very few people know.

What will happen to the six teens, wondering around the world together

***

Harper’s P.O.V.

“Josh, wake up.” I shake his shoulder.

“Name me one good reason why.” He states.

“Because we’re about to land so you need to put your seatbelt on, mum would kill me if I left you, you’re sitting on my earphone wire so I’ve got limited mobility, and I was told to.” I state multiple.

“Well aren’t you a smarty pants.” He sighs and rubs his eyes.

“Thanks.” I say.

“Who told you to wake me up?” He asks, sitting up straight.

“Angus.” I say.

“Oh, hey, forgot about you.” Josh turns towards Angus.

“You’re just bitter I got the window seat.” Angus declares.

“Shut up.” Josh mutters. “I’m the oldest, I should get to pick where I sit.” He complains.

“Where’d you get that from?” I ask.

“The rules.”

“Well in that case I’m the youngest so I should get to pick where I sit, because I don’t wanna be in the middle.”

“You need to reread the rules, mate.” Angus tells me.

“Okay, fuck the rules, if we’re gonna do this properly, either Josh or me should get the window seat and you be in the middle because it goes in order.” I say.

“Ugh I hate being the middle child.” Angus groans.

“I love being the youngest because I’m the favourite.” I say smugly.

“I love being the oldest so I can be the boss.” Josh repeats my tone. “And I don’t think that’s true, I’m the favourite.”

“Okay, if that’s right, why did mum and dad pay for my flight?” I smirk.

“What?” They say in unison.

“What?” I raise an eyebrow.

“I’m a uni student, I have limited money.” Josh exclaims.

“Me too, you actually have a steady job, you probably have more money than us.” Angus states.

“Like I said, I’m the youngest, check the rules.” I wink and turn my attention to my phone, drowning their grumbles.

“Is it true you played for her flight and not ours?” Is the first thing Angus asks when we meet up with our parents.

“I told you not to tell them.” Mum tells me.

“They were ganging up on me!” I play the victim and rest my head on her shoulder, whilst wrapping my arms around her, making her loosely wrap her arms around me.

“You were bragging that you were the favourite.” Josh calls me out.

“Hey, I just broke up with my boyfriend, cut me some slack.” I say.

“Harper that was nearly 11 months ago.” Angus deadpans.

“It still hurts.” I clutch my heart.

“God, anything to wind up your brothers.” Dad laughs and I high five him.

“Great strat right?” I laugh.

It’s been a while, it’s nearly Halloween so I decided I’d join my brother’s when they go home instead of getting wasted at some lame party I’ll barely remember in the morning this year. It’s probably better for me because I’ve been out a lot recently, and a couple weeks free of heavily drinking will do me good.

I’ve really just ignored everything and tried to get through uni. I finished my first year of university last month, and now I’m in my second year. I’ve thrown everything over my shoulder, waiting to deal with it later, and not looked back

The only time I’m open is when I’m with my therapist, and that lasts for an hour and a bit, then the next day I’m shut tight. I haven’t talked to the boy’s or girls in ages, the last I had contact with them is when I ran into Calum. I’m only talking physical.

I’ve thought about them a lot, especially one boy, but I’m waiting to deal with that later, I’m not in the right headspace to sort that out because that’s gonna take a long time, and I’m just not in the right place to do so right now.

That’s if I can ever deal with that.

It’s weird, I haven’t moved on from where I was like 8 months ago, I’ve just accumulated more pain and more clutter, and after 10 and a bit months, you would of thought I’d be able to move on, but I just can’t. I physically can’t. I’ve tried, but my heart just hurts if I try to move on. I’ve done it successfully a few times, but for a solid week and a bit after, I’m just so fucking guilty.

There was a close time where I almost called Luke. I’d went home with a guy the previous night, then the next night I was drunk and crying, and I just stared at his contact for what could’ve been minutes or hours, I’m not sure, but my thumb hovered over call for ages, and at one point I fell asleep.

I’ve been tempted to talk to the other boys, but if I need to move on from Luke, talking to his best friends isn’t gonna help much.

“Can we go now?” I whine, had enough of all this mushy stuff.

“Fine.” Dad sighs exasperated.

Last time I’d come back with my brother’s, I was still with Luke and days away from a break up. It’s weird to think that, because I had no idea at all that that was gonna happen, and it was such a shock when he told me, I almost didn’t believe him, but the way his voice cracked and the desperate tone of voice told me it was real.

It seems like a life time ago I was actually with Luke and happy, yet it only seems like yesterday.

“Can’t wait to go you to see the new arrangements, we moved things around and now it looks so much better.” My mum excitedly says.

“I’m sure it looks great mum.” I tell her.

“What she said.” Josh points at me.

“Shotgun not sitting in the middle.” I call.

“Same.” Josh calls.

“Shotgun.” Angus says.

“Hey you can’t call it, I just did.” Josh tells Angus.

“You didn’t actually say shotgun, plus I’d tone your voice down because shouting shotgun in an airport is not too wise.” Angus informs.

“It’s the rules.” I say into his ear before walking away.

“I hate you guys so much, I’m the oldest.” Josh grumbles.

“With the oldest anger problem too.” Angus teases and we high five.

Luke’s P.O.V.

“And that’s tour done!” Ashton exclaims as we step off the plane.

“It was so much fun.” Calum smiles.

“Yeah.” I agree.

“I’m so excited to be reunited with my bed.” Michael breathes a sigh of relief.

“Same, but before I do that, I’ll need to pee because I’m kinda desperate.” Calum says.

“Really Calum?” I ask.

“Yeah!”

“Why couldn’t you pee on the plane?” I question.

“Because when I flush, it sounds like I broke the plane.” He explains.

“Are your parents related?” I ask.

“No.” He shakes his head confused.

“Then why are you so stupid?” I ask.

“I was probably dropped as a baby.” He shrugs.

“And then dropped on every step on the stairs.” I mumble.

“Take that stick out your ass, Hemmings.” Michael tells me.

“Been trying to for the past 11 months.” I sigh.

“Holy fuck, how big is it?” Calum exclaims.

“It can’t be that big, he’s just being a baby.” Ashton tunes in.

“Well, you try losing someone important to you, see how you feel then.” I glare at him.

“Okay so apparently it’s a whole fucking oak forest.” Michael says.

“Just leave me alone.” I groan.

“Honestly Luke, when are you gonna get over her?“ Michael questions.

“I’m asking myself the same question.” I shake my head. “I just can’t I don’t know why, I’ve tried, I’ve tried so hard, but it doesn’t work.”

“What have you done with a girl ever since you broke up with Harper?” Calum questions.

“I hooked up with one girl last month, and it just wasn’t the same, I didn’t enjoy it, and I was out of there as soon as possible.”

“Maybe because you were so used to doing it with love, and it didn’t feel the same because it was meaningless.” Ashton suggests.

“Maybe.” I nod.

“Did you feel guilty at all.” Calum asks.

“So fucking guilty.” I answer. “It was like I was cheating on her all over again.”

“What went on with that? Like did you know it was another girl? Did you think it was Harper because you were so drunk? Did you intentionally sleep with another girl? We don’t really know what happened.” Ashton bumbards me with questions.

“I think a part of me thought it was Harper, but as it went on I noticed little things that Harper didn’t have or do or whatever. I know being drunk isn’t an excuse, but I was just so out of it, I wasn’t thinking. It just sorta happened and when I woke up in the morning, I was devastated, and I didn’t know what to do, I knew I’d have to tell her, because I couldn’t keep that in. I decided to tell her face to face, because I’m already a shitty person for sleeping with someone else, I dont want to be even shittier by not.”

“You really did fuck up.” Michael tells me.

“You think I don’t know that?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Did you know her at all?” Calum asks.

“No idea who she was.” I shake my head.

“Do you remember he name?” Ash questions.

“I can’t even remember what she looked like, let alone her name. I think she was blonde.” I try to remember.

“Did she know who you were?” Calum questions.

“I can barely remember anything of that night, how am I supposed to remember the specifics?” I sigh.

“But you remember sleeping with her?” Michael asks.

“Yeah.” I nod.

“You did actually sleep with her right? You didn’t like imagine it or something?” Calum asks.

“I defiantly did because I remember her leaving in the morning, leaving me her number. Plus, there were paparazzi pictures of me and her I think.” I answer as we get into a car.

“Oh yeah, that caused a lot of drama.” Michael laughs. “What did Harper say about those?”

“Uh, she asked me about them and I just told her she was drunk and I was helping her, she bought it because she trusted me, and look where that went – down the drain.”

***

“Luke!” My mum calls for me.

“Yeah?” I shout back.

“Come down.”

I sigh, putting on a shirt, as I walk out, because I just got out the shower. Skipping down the stairs, I go towards the kitchen where I here talking. Walking in I see Michael, Calum and Ashton.

“Hey guys?” I ask confused.

“Hi, we’re going to surprise the girls.” Michael says.

“And by girls you mean…”

“Erika and Maddie.” Ashton answers.

“Yeah not Harper because you know, she’s not in the country.” Calum explains.

“Right.” I nod. “Anything else?”

“Yeah we’re gonna be livestreaming it.” Ashton replies.

“Why?” I question.

“Because why not?” Calum tells me.

“But like, there’s no point.” I furrow my eyebrows.

“Get with the times, people love this shit, the amount of videos I’ve watched of soldiers coming home is astonishing.” Michael exclaims.

“We’re not soldiers though.” I state.

“So? People will still love it.”

“Okay, why livestream though?”

“So people can be in the moment.” Ashton encourages.

“Whatever.” I shake my head, going into the fridge.

“When are we going?” Calum asks, looking up from his phone.

“In a minute.”

Walking up Erika’s drive way, Ashton has his phone out, and we’re all a little giddy.

“So they have no idea we’re home?” I ask.

“Nope.” Ashton shakes his head.

“Who’s knocking?” Michael questions.

“I’ll do it.” Calum calls and knocks on the door.

“I hope she’s in.” I chuckle.

We hear the door make sounds and it opens, revealing Erika, and her eyes instantly widen.

“Guys!” She shrieks and instantly hugs Calum.

“Erika!” Calum mocks and wraps his arms around her torso.

“What’s going on out her- oh my God.” The voice of Maddie says.

“Maddie!” Michael grins and pulls her into a hug.

Calum lets go of Erika then she comes up towards me, and I pull her into a hug. “I missed you.” She tells me.

“Aw, I missed you too.” I smile and let go of her.

“How’ve you been?” She asks.

“Fine.” I nod, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “You?”

“Good, missed everyone like crazy.” Erika sighs. “I’ll uh speak in a minute.” She gestures towards the other boys.

“Yeah.”

“Luke!” Maddie grins.

“Hi!” I chuckle, pulling her into a quick hug. “How has it been with out your one true love?” I joke.

“Better actually.” She answers and I playfully glare at her. “Nah, your one true love is 15 minutes away.”

“What?” I ask but she walks away.

I watch Ashton say goodbye to his phone and he puts it in his pocket, a smile plastered onto his face.

“Who else at you surprising?” Erika asks.

“It’s just you, no one left, because we’re loners.” Calum laughs.

“I take it you already did Harper then?” Erika raises and eyebrow.

“What?” We question.

“Did she not tell you?” Erika asks.

“No, we haven’t spoken to her in months.” Calum shakes his head.

“Really? She didn’t tell you?” Maddie asks.

“Clearly.” Michael replies.

“Oh.” She mumbles.

“That’s unfortunate.” Erika scratches the back of her neck.

“What did she tell you?” I ask.

“Uh, she said, hi, back in Aus for a little, wanna meet up at some point? It’ll do me good to take a break from everything haha.” Erika reads from her phone, making me shake my head.

“I guess she’s officially done with us.” Ashton sighs.

“I don’t think she knows you’re here, to be honest.” Maddie states.

“Actually that’s very true, you should go over and surprise her, I can assure you she doesn’t hate you, and she won’t be mad if you surprise her.” Erika explains.

“You think?” Michael questions.

“Yeah.” She nods.

“Well next stop, Harper’s.”

*** Michael’s P.O.V.

“You know I think I’m just gonna go home, she doesn’t want to see me and I have to respect that, you carry on and I’ll just watch the stream.” Luke tells us.

“You sure?” Calum asks.

“Yeah, I’ll catch you guys later.” He gives us a sad smile.

“Alright, bye.” I wave and he waves back, then crosses the road going over to his house, which is just a few houses down.

“I’m kinda nervous.” Ashton says pulling out his phone

“Same.” I agree walking up the stairs.

“Do you think she’s in? There’s no cars on the driveway.” Calum points out.

“Ma-”

“Wait, I can hear music.” I cut Ashton off.

“You can?” Calum furrows his eyebrows.

“Yeah, listen.” I reply and we all go silent, hearing the faint sound of a piano.

“Wow that sounds really nice.” Calum comments.

“Yeah, she probably won’t be able to hear us if we knock.” Ashton states.

“Let’s go through the back, it’s always open.” Calum says making me me snicker.

“Nah, that’s not Harper.” I laugh.

“This is a sentimental moment we’re about to have!” Ashton exclaims.

We walk round, going through the gate walking up the path we meet the backdoor.

Calum opens it and the music gets louder, but now a voice runs with it, and it sounds a lot like Harper’s. We all look at each other in confusion and Ashton readjusts his phone as we make our way towards the noise.

Walking into the living room, we see Harper sat at a grand piano, her fingers moving over the keys, as her voice runs like liquid honey with the music.

I take a listen to the lyrics and they’re heart breaking.

What doesn’t kill you makes you wish you were dead. Got a hole in my soul, growing deeper and deeper. And I can’t take one more moment of this silence. The loneliness is haunting me. And the weight of the world’s getting harder to hold up.

It comes in waves, I close my eyes. Hold my breath and let it bury me. I’m not okay, and it’s not alright. Won’t you drag the lake and bring me home again?

Who will fix me now? Dive in when I’m down? Save me from myself, don’t let me drown. Who will make me fight? Drag me out alive? Save me from myself, don’t let me drown.

What doesn’t destroy you, leaves you broken instead. Got a hole in my soul growing deeper and deeper. And I can’t take one more moment of this silence. The loneliness is haunting me. And the weight of the world’s getting harder to hold up.

It comes in waves, I close my eyes. Hold my breath and let it bury me. I’m not okay, and it’s not alright Won’t you drag the lake and bring me home again?

Who will fix me now? Dive in when I’m down? Save me from myself, don’t let me drown. Who will make me fight? Drag me out alive? Save me from myself, don’t let me drown.

‘Cause you know that I can’t do this on my own. (Woah oh oh oh) ‘Cause you know that I can’t do this on my own. (Woah oh oh oh) ‘Cause you know that I can’t do this on my own. (Woah oh oh oh) (‘Cause you know that I can’t do this on my own.)

Who will fix me now? Who will fix me now? Who will fix me now? Dive in when I’m down? Save me from myself, don’t let me drown.

( https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FU5ifmugneM)

The boys and I look at each other in shock, and a little confusion. It takes years for someone to play piano like that, and I’ve known Harper for years, and I’ve not seen her play any type of instrument besides a ukulele. I knew she could sing, and she was very shy about that, but that’s all I know.

“Suprise.” Ashton cautiously says.

Harper suddenly turns around, her eyes widen and a smile grows on her face.

“What are you guys doing here?” She asks.

“Uh, enough about us, what was that, since when could you play piano?” Calum changes the subject.

“What are you guys doing here?” She repeats, making us laugh.

“Well?” I raise an eyebrow.

“We’ve gotta go, there’s a conversation ahead of us and I’ll update you later.” Ashton says to his phone.

“You were recording?” Harper questions.

“Livestreaming.” Ashton corrects.

“Oh wow.”

“So, music lady, explain.” I urge.

“Music lady?” She laughs and I nod. “Uh, I’ve been playing since I was like 10.”

“10?” We all exclaim.

“10.” She confirms.

“How come we’ve never seen you play before?” Ashton questions.

“I don’t know, it’s my own little secret, it’s not a big deal.” She shrugs.

“It’s a big deal, you’ve kept it for 9 years.” Calum tells her.

“Whatever, can we talk about this later?” Harper begs.

“Fine, but give me a hug first.”

5 notes · View notes

ladyfogg · 7 years ago

Text

Big Bad Wolf

Fic Summary: Sequel to Bathed in Red. It’s a normal Saturday evening in your club when you realize Mucous Membrane is the evening’s band. Torn between going home and staying to face Johnny, you fight your impulse to run away. After all, you do owe him a drink. Constantine Oneshot Masterpost

Fic Rating: NC-17

Fic Song: Big Bad Wolf by Aesthetic Perfection

Pairing: Mucous Membrane John Constantine/Female Reader

Warnings: Smut & Language

It’s been a year and a half since your life exploded, leaving you angry, lost, and alone. Thankfully, your downward, self-destructive spiral didn’t last. After many nights bar hopping, and several one-night stands, you began the slow process of recovery.

Six months ago, you became manager at a local club, and it’s been smooth sailing ever since. You enjoy the normalcy, the stability. Both have been lacking in your life for far too long, and it feels nice to have a job you care about and money in the bank.

Tonight seems like any other. You arrive at the club at eight, heading straight for your office to pick up the setlist for the evening. Your assistant manager handles booking and organizing the talent, which leaves you free to handle more important aspects of your job. Like making sure everyone gets paid.

You sit at your desk, rustling through the mess of papers. Invoices, phone messages, schedules...none of them are what you’re looking for. You like to review the set before you start your shift, so you can rearrange anything, if necessary. You eventually find your assistant’s clipboard in the middle of the pile and lean back in your chair, swirling from side to side as you go down the list.

There’s your DJ of course, and several bands you’ve hired in the past, but when you get to the last name, your heart skips a beat and you jolt upright.

Mucous Membrane

You read it again, and then a third time just to make sure you’re not having some kind of a stroke. Shit. What?! How is that possible?!

You scramble for the phone, punching in your assistant’s home number and waiting anxiously as it rings.

“Hello?” comes a tired voice.

“It’s me,” you say by way of greeting. “When did you book Mucous Membrane? How did you hear about them?”

“Er...I don’t remember,” your assistant says after a short pause.

You frown. “How can you not remember?” you ask.

“It was a month or so ago,” they respond. “Needed a headliner for the evening.”

“I would hardly call them a headliner,” you snort.

“Well I assumed they were pretty good since you had their lead singer’s business card on your desk,” your assistant says. “I’m sorry, was I wrong? Should I not have booked them?”

Confused, you look down, moving a few papers to the side. You lost John’s business card months ago, so it’s takes you completely surprised to find it lying innocently in the middle of your desk.

“He said you two were old friends,” your assistant continues, clearly trying to dig themselves out of the hole they think they’ve fallen in. “Their manager called me the next day and we set it up. I’m sorry, boss, I didn’t--”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt. “It’s fine. No need to apologize. I was just surprised is all. Sorry to bother you on your night off.”

You hang up before they respond, fingers tracing the words on the card. How the hell did that card end up on your desk? You suppose it’s possible you took it out of your pocket and left it there. You did carry it around for some time. But you know you’ve cleaned your desk since its disappearance and you would have seen it for sure.

In any case, the fact of the matter is you thought you’d never see Johnny again, and now he’s going to be in your club in a few short hours. Your first instinct is to bolt. But there’s no one to cover your duties, and after scaring your poor assistant, you don’t want to call them in.

With a heavy sigh, you haul yourself out of your seat. You’re an adult, you can do this. You can face the man you banged backstage and then ditched immediately after. Even though the hope of him not remembering you is out the window after that conversation you just had. Which actually makes you feel a little proud. He remembers you, though you’re not sure how he knew this was your club. It’s not like you told him your name.

Deciding to push those questions aside, you throw yourself into your work.

Normally, the night goes quickly since you’re always so busy. But tonight it doesn’t. Tonight the minutes drag by at a frustratingly slow pace. Every time you’re notified of a band’s arrival, you think it’s John’s. But it’s not, and you realize with surprise that you’re actually looking forward to seeing him.

They don’t show up until a few minutes before their time slot. And when they do, you’re too busy helping behind the bar to greet them. You get so wrapped up in what you’re doing, you miss them getting on stage, until an explosion of loud music, followed a familiar voice, makes you look up.

“Love, adventure, death and glory, the short goodbye, the whispered story…”

You’re struck by how good John looks; almost exactly how you remember him from last year. You almost forgot how hot he is, and you find it difficult to get back to what you were doing. The song continues, the crowd responding somewhat positively, even though the music isn’t usually the kind your regulars are used to.

The additional bartender arrives, so you excuse yourself and slip out from behind the counter. By now the song is winding down, and you maneuver your way through the crowd, getting closer to the stage. He hasn’t noticed you yet, at least, you don’t think he has. You find a spot off to the side, crossing your arms with amusement at the whole situation. The song ends, the crowd actually applauds loudly, and Johnny grins.

“Now this one,” he says. “I wrote after a little fling I had last year. Gorgeous bit, legs for days, and a wicked tongue.”

Instantly your face grows hot as the crowd hoots and hollers. Your first thought is, He can’t be talking about me. But then, Johnny’s eyes find yours suddenly, and he stares you down with a knowing smirk.

He wrote a song for you. You’re doomed.

“You hear me knocking on your heart, if you let me in, I swear I won’t tear your apart love, oh no,” Johnny sings. “You hear that beating of my heart, alone in my own skin, and to be myself, with someone else, never turned out well, but I’m comin’. I smell your blood from far away, you’ve lost because, I’ve got your scent I’m on the hunt, there’s nowhere to run, ‘cause I’m comin’…”

Dear god, it’s suddenly ten times hotter in here. Many thoughts race through your mind, and you find yourself wondering if he’s been looking for you this whole time. Was he pissed when he got off stage last year and found you were gone? Was he disappointed?

Johnny hasn’t taken his eyes off you, and you swear if he asked you to strip right there, you’d not only do as he says but also bang him right on the floor. So much for being a mature adult about this.

The rest of the band sings the next part, but Johnny doesn’t break eye contact with you.

“My lover what have you become? Why must you look at me that way?”

Is that supposed to be you speaking to him? Sort of sounds like it. Fuck, his eyes are so intense. His intention with you couldn’t be any clearer.

“Because my dear you look so good,” Johnny sings. “You’re good enough to eat. I’ll never let you go, once I have sunk my teeth into you.”

Memories of your night together come flooding back in a haze. Johnny banging you against the wall, your teeth sinking into his neck, his loud noises as he came, spasming against you.

“I hear the trembling of your voice, don’t be a afraid,” This is a seduction. He wrote this song to seduce you, and you hate yourself that it’s actually working. “I’m not as vicious as the tomes say, I’m just hungry.”

This time when the band sings backup, you can’t help but move closer to the stage, mouthing along with the words. “My lover what have you become? Why must you look at me that way?”

Johnny smirks. He knows he has you, or more accurately, will have you. Because as soon as the band is done, you’re dragging him into your office and having your way with him. You feel flush and desperate to ride him until you can’t walk properly.

“Because my dear you look so good,” Johnny sings, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re good enough to eat. I’ll never let you go, once I’ve sunk in my teeth...”

And now you can’t help but remember his mouth on you, and how enthusiastic and eager he was to finish you off even though he himself had already come. Once that image is in your mind, you can’t get it out and you throw him a wink, before stepping back and letting the crowd swallow you.

The band plays several other songs, which you watch from backstage. As questionable as their music is, you have to admire how much fun they’re apparently having. Applause signals the end of their act, and you clap along as the band members file off stage.

Johnny is last, and when he sees you standing there, he strolls over. “See now, love, this is how I expected to find you after last time,” he says.

Wincing, you shove your hands into your pockets. “Yeah, sorry about that,” you apologize. “I wasn’t exactly in the right headspace back then.”

Johnny pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, tucking the end between his lips as he feels around for his lighter. “You can make it up to me by buyin’ me that drink,” he says.

You chuckle, pulling your own lighter out and offering it to him. Smoking has been something you've picked up over the last year and part of you wonders if it's subconsciously because of John. The taste of cigarettes does remind you of him every single time.

“Deal,” you say. “Though, it is my club, so it’ll be free.”

“Even better,” Johnny says. He steps forward, entering your personal space as he takes the lighter from you. “Ta, love.”

There’s heat radiating off his body, and it’s dangerously inviting. You follow the movement of his hands as they light the end of his cigarette, before passing your lighter back. When you take it, he closes his fingers around yours, pulling you in even closer. His free hand comes up to remove the smoke as he exhales off to the side. Unable to stop yourself, you press your body along his.

“So,” you say. “You’re going to ‘sink your teeth’ into me?”

Johnny grins. “If you play your cards right,” he teases.

Laughing, you duck out of his grasp as he leans in. “Not here,” you tell him. “I’m the boss. Last thing I need is for my employees to see me making out with the talent.”

Johnny pouts around his cigarette. “You’re no fun,” he laments as he follows you further backstage, towards the door that leads to the main room.

“We both know that’s not true.”

The bar is still crazy busy, and as Johnny moves in that direction, you catch his hand, leading him towards the VIP area. It’s empty at the moment, for which you are grateful. With Johnny here, you don’t want to be bothered with anyone else. Your security guard lets you pass and you pull Johnny down into the comfy booth with you.

“Fancy,” he comments.

“There are perks to being on top,” you say, before adding with a sly smile. “Many perks.”

Johnny takes a drag, examining you through hooded eyes as he leans back against the seat. “You’re gonna have to show me some time,” he says.

One of your employees takes your drink order, and as she’s leaving, you notice Johnny’s bandmates close by, eyeing the two of you even as they’re surrounded by smiling, scantily clad women.

“I think they’re envious,” you comment, nodding towards the group. “You’re in the VIP section and they’re not.”

Johnny rolls his head to the side to shoot them a grin, giving them a mocking wave. “Bit obvious, innit?”

“Do you want me to invite them to join?”

“Nah,” Johnny shakes his head. He extinguishes his cigarette butt in the ashtray in front of him. Sliding closer, he drops his hand under the table, finding your thigh. “M’fine with jus’ you an’ me.”

You lean into the touch. “How did you find me?” you ask.

“Magic.”

You roll your eyes, stopping his hand from traveling up any further. “Very funny,” you say. “How about why did you find me?”

Johnny regards you for a moment, eyes roaming your face. “Haven’t stopped thinkin’ ‘bout that night,” he admits. “Also, needed to return these.”

From his pocket he draws out the panties you gave him, and you drag his hand down and out of sight. “Are you crazy?” you hiss. “You don’t just wave a woman’s underwear around!”

Johnny is delighted by your embarrassment, and tries to pull them away as you grab for them. “Aww look at you blush,” he teases. “You were so confident an’ bold the las’ time we met.”

“I had been drinking, and we were alone,” you say, still wrangling the panties from his grasp. He finally relents, letting you tug them free. You shove them into your pocket. “And it was the only way I could think of to apologize for ditching you.”

“I have another way,” Johnny says, fingers trailing up your arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

Drinks are placed down in front of you, but you both ignore them in favor of looking at each other. “So, just like that, you show up out of nowhere, play a song for me, and then expect me to bang you like last time?” you ask.

“Not up for it?”

“Of course I am! I’m just making sure we’re on the same page,” you grin, picking up your drink. Johnny does the same and you tap your glass to his, before downing most of the liquor in one gulp. “Come with me.”

“That’s the plan, love.”

Heart racing, you slam your glass down onto the table and stand, Johnny following close behind. Bypassing security, and other patrons, you make your way across the room, towards the Employee’s Only door in the way back.

“Oi! Constantine! Where you off to, mate?” Gary shouts after you both.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Gaz,” Johnny shouts back, before slinging his arm around your shoulders.

If anyone else is paying attention, it’s fairly obvious what’s going to transpire, and part of you wishes Johnny would be a little more discreet. But you also realize that’s asking for a lot, so you go with it, leading him through the door to the back hallway.

Once alone, Johnny pushes you against the nearest wall, cupping your face before practically smashing his mouth to yours. It’s just like the first time: hot, urgent, exciting, with a hint of danger. You instantly melt, mouth falling open with a loud moan as John kisses you deeply. Tongues meeting in the middle, you each try to gain the upper hand. There’s a desperation from Johnny you don’t remember feeling before, and you come to the conclusion that he’s thought about this moment for some time.

“Office,” you mumble between kisses.

“But that would mean stoppin’,” Johnny grins against your mouth, one hand dropping to tug on your belt loop. He draws your bodies together, and you can feel the outline of his cock through his jeans.

“Only for a second,” you giggle. “Can’t blow you out here.”

Johnny groans, drawing back. “Which way?”

You seize his hand and tug him in the direction of your office, happy that none of your employees are around. The both of you nearly barrel through the door, slamming it shut behind you before attacking each other again.

Johnny’s mouth never leaves yours as he pushes you towards the desk. You grab his shirt and spin, forcing his back to hit the edge and items to go scattering onto the floor as he moves to sit on the dull surface. He swipes papers away impatiently to make more room, spreading his legs so you can slot yourself between them.

Your hands fall to his belt, impatiently undoing the buckle before reaching for the button of his pants. Johnny’s too busy reacquainting himself with your mouth to help, fingers buried in your hair and teeth nipping at your bottom lip. He’s sighing and groaning, as if he’s getting a fix of something he’s been craving. Which, you suppose he is.

You break away gasping, and he lifts his hips so you can pull his pants down. His cock is already hard, practically springing from its confines comedically. You can’t help but giggle and Johnny lets out a chuckle as well.

“Someone is happy to see me,” you grin.

“Aye,” Johnny agrees, running a hand through his hair as you drop to your knees. “Been at half-mast since I first saw you makin’ those drinks behind the bar.”

“You were watching me?” you ask.

Johnny smiles, staring at you as if he can’t believe you’re really there. “You look good, love,” he says. “I couldn’t ‘elp it.

There’s a moment that passes, where you simply stare at each other, seemingly registering that you’re finally together again. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted this until that exact moment. Months spent staring at that business card has somehow led to this reunion, you’re sure of it. The paper is worn thin from all the times you ran your fingers across it. How many times did you reach for the phone? How many times did you start dialing, only to chicken out and hang up?

None of that matters now.

You run your tongue up the underside of his cock and Johnny swears, leaning back on his elbows. “Must’a touched meself hundreds of times while thinkin’ ‘bout that mouth of yours,” he continues, watching you wrap your lips around the head.

“Really?” you tease, briefly tonguing the slit on the end. “Hundreds?”

Before he can answer, you suck hard and Johnny groans loudly, hips immediately pistoning up. You manage to avoid gagging by pulling back, and shoot him an amused look. Johnny only grins lazily, head falling back as you start to move your mouth up and down his swollen shaft. After a minute or so, you realize two things. One, you forgot how fucking loud Johnny can be. You’ve barely started and he’s already moaning as if you’ve deepthroated him. And two, your knees are not going to last long this way.

You pull off for a second, and Johnny whimpers with disappointment. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, love--”

“Oh relax! I need to readjust,” you tell him, pulling your chair over. “Here, turn this way.”

You collapse into the chair, rolling it forward and Johnny turns, sliding his legs on either side of you. “Perfect,” you grin, taking him into your hand. Hunched over, but not kneeling on the hardwood floor, you waste no time, sucking him passed your lips as hard as you can.

Johnny falls back onto the desk, head practically hanging over the edge. “Fuck, yes, love!” he exclaims, one hand finding your hair.

He tries to push your head down as he thrusts up, but you don’t let him, refusing to relinquish the control you have. Bracing your arms on his thighs, you pin him to the desk, pulling off his cock with a wet pop. Wrapping your hand around him, you jerk him off, loving the way his stomach muscles clench and his back arches slightly.

“You know, I’ve yet to have sex in this office,” you comment, squeezing harder.

Johnny is already panting, lifting his head to smirk at you. “Well aren’t I special?” he teases.

“Oh you’re something alright.”

This time when you take him into your mouth, you suck him down right to the base, until the dark blond curls tickle your nose. After a second, you pull off, gagging, before immediately doing it again. Johnny swears, both hands in your hair now as you set a near brutal pace, head bobbing on his lap.

The taste and feel of him brings you right back to that night you met, and it’s like the last year has happened at all. However this time, you can clearly see his expression and it’s even more beautiful than you could have ever anticipated. Red cheeks, cute wrinkle as he furrows his brow, teeth briefly biting into his lower lip...fuck you wish you had a camera to capture the moment.

Johnny’s twitching and jerking up into your mouth, sounds continually pouring from his mouth, whether it’s swears, gasps, moans, or your name.

God, that’s the best part. Hearing that fucking voice say your name that way.

You’re drooling around his cock, and you know you should probably stop to catch your breath, but you honestly don’t want to because that would mean Johnny would stop making such delicious noises. You’re spared from making that choice when Johnny yanks you off.

“Gonna shoot me load if you keep doin’ that,” he exclaims. “Dunno how that was even better than last’ time.”

Grinning and panting, you pull away and lean back in your chair, wiping your mouth with your hand. “Really? You were gonna come just from a little blow job?” you tease.

“That was not little!” Johnny exclaims, sliding off the desk and placing his hands on the arm rests at your sides. “Having a bloke halfway down your throat over and over again isn’t easy. And I should know.”

He steals a kiss from you as you laugh, before pushing the chair until it hits the wall. Eyeing you hungrily, he drops to his knees, reaching for your jeans. After he easily undoes the button, you lift your hips, allowing him to drag them down and off. You have to say, you picked the perfect night not to put on underwear.

John wastes no time, throwing your legs over his shoulders and burying his face between your thighs. Heat shoots through your body and down to your core, leaving you gasping from excitement. Feet braced on the desk, you grab Johnny’s hair just as he did to you, arching into his mouth as his tongue slips inside. No hesitation, no build up...just right to being where he apparently really wants to be. Now you’re the one whimpering and swearing, especially when his thumb presses softly to your clit, before dragging a small circle around it.

Outside your office, music blares and people dance the night away, while you are consumed by the talented mouth of one John Constantine. Fuck you’ve never met someone whose tongue can be everywhere you want it to be at once. Maybe he is magic. Wouldn’t that be a hilarious twist of fate. Or he’s just really good at oral.

Whatever the case, you don’t fucking care. All you care about is his mouth massaging your folds, and him moaning low in his throat as if he’s sampling the sweetest treat in the world. That beautiful tongue slips out of you, but his thumb continues its torturous circles, even as Johnny spreads you open further with his other hand. When he licks you again, it’s a small tentative one to your hidden pucker, and you moan.

The next thing you know, Johnny’s gone and your eyes fly open, blinking away the brightly colored spots decorating your vision. John seizes your hands and pulls you out of your chair, spinning you around to face the desk. You’re shoved forward roughly, bent over the surface with your ass presented to him. You hear him drop into the chair behind you and then his mouth is all over you again.

His hand reaches around and two fingers rub your clit furiously, as he licks a path up your slit to your pucker and then back down, again and again and again. The boldness of his actions doesn’t take you by surprise, but the spasms of intense pleasure do and you are powerless to do anything other than moan, especially when his tongue slips back into you. Time drags on and you’re soon reduced to a thrashing, blissed-out mess.

“Was too dark las’ time,” Johnny mumbles into your flesh. “Didn’t see these naughty bits. Bloody beautiful you are, love. And delicious.” He buries his face in you, moaning loudly as you cry out and grind against his tongue.

“Johnny!” you gasp. “I need you inside me!”

John pulls away with a smack of his lips and a slap to your ass cheek. “Lucky for you, we both need that,” he purrs, getting to his feet.

You shakily push yourself up onto your hands, slowly turning around to face him. Johnny grabs the back of his t-shirt, yanking it over his head and chucking it to the side after wiping his face on it. As you tug your own shirt off impatiently, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you forward, hugging you close. This is the first time you’re both seeing each other fully naked, though you don’t have the opportunity to admire the view. You’re too distracted by how his skin feels amazing against yours. Hot, smooth, perfect even. He runs his hands up your back, admiring the feeling just as you are.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask him, as his cock nudges your thigh.

“In me pants,” Johnny says, still touching every bit of you he can. “Bloody ‘ell, love, you feel spectacular.”

You yank him into a kiss, and you share each other’s tastes, which is so dirty and provocative you can’t help the surge of excitement. And urgency. Because he needs to fuck you right this second or you’re going to explode, and not in the fun way.

Not wanting to keep going without protection, you reluctantly draw away so he can untangle himself from your arms. He scours the floor for his pants, digging around in his pocket for the rubber once he finds them. You hum with appreciation, taking in the sight of his bare ass as he bends over.

“This is a great angle for you, Constantine,” you tell him, hoisting yourself up onto the desk and spreading your legs. You start to toy with yourself, amazed at how soaked you are.

“Checking out me arse, love?” Johnny grins as he straightens his stance, holding the condom up triumphantly. His eyes widen with glee when he sees your fingers disappear between your slick folds.

“Mmm, yeah I was,” you smirk. “Now, how do you want me?”

Johnny tears open the condom wrapper, tossing it somewhere behind him as he moves to stand in front of you once more. “Jus’ like this, love,” he purrs, rolling the latex onto his stiff cock, giving himself a few strokes for good measure. That done, he hooks his hands under your knees and brings your legs up, forcing you onto your back as he jerks you forward. “Jus’ like this.”

Johnny takes himself in one hand and pushes into you, eyes nearly rolling back in his head as his lids flutter closed. You can’t keep yours open either, so you don’t, stretching your arms over your head to grip the edge of the desk. Fuck, was he this thick before or has it just been a long time? Your thighs are already quivering as he eases in, inch by glorious inch until he’s as deep as he can be.

Firm hands grip your waist tight, and then Johnny is fucking into you with quick, deep thrusts. Suddenly nothing else in the world matters and you lose yourself completely in the hot, blond man taking you on your desk.

His lap slaps your thighs loudly on each thrust, joining the sounds of your heavy breath and moans while the base of some song bumps away in the background. Holding onto the edge as tight as you can, you bounce along with him, wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him in even closer. A thin layer of sweat is already forming on your moving bodies, and Johnny’s fingers dig into your skin enough to leave marks.

“Look at me,” he demands, groaning your name. “Lemme see those eyes, love.”

You blink up at him, moaning at the lustful grin on his handsome face. His eyeliner is running a little, product heavy hair falling into his eyes making him look thoroughly disheveled. Once he has your full attention, Johnny lets go of your waist, placing his hands on either side of your head and pressing his weight on you. You hook your heels together and cling to him as if your life depends on it, as if you’d die if he stopped fucking you, because you’re pretty sure you will.

You loop one arm around his neck, seeking his mouth in a sloppy kiss. Johnny grunts and kisses back, moving faster, practically grinding into you each time. The pressure on your clit is perfect, and when John dips his hips just slightly, the head of his cock brushes that spot inside of you that makes you call out. Soon every thrust is directed to that spot and his mouth drops to your neck, feasting on your throat.

Your orgasm is hovering just out of reach, urging you to rut shamelessly against Johnny. Sharp teeth dig into your throat as he sucks hard enough to leave red spots, and you recognize his whimpers and moans from before.

He’s close.

“Fuck, Johnny!” you gasp. “I’m gonna come!”

“Oh, yeah you are,” Johnny grunts into your ear, wet lips sucking on the lobe. “S’like yer built for me, love. You take my cock so fucking good! Like yer never lettin’ go.”

The desk jumps and scrapes against the floor, any remaining objects on the surface crashing to the ground until it’s just you and John. You’re beyond words now, so fucking close to coming that it actually hurts, in the most wonderfully torturous way.

“Yer gonna come for Johnny,” he orders. “Be a good girl and come for me.”

“Make...me…”

It only takes a few more brutal thrusts before your whole body seizes, and it feels like a rubber band inside you snaps, sending waves and waves of pure ecstasy. You scream, yes, actually scream, crushing Johnny to your chest as your back arches and you freeze in place. Johnny keeps going, biting and sucking your throat and shoulder excitedly even as he babbles.

“Yes, love, yes! Look at you coming like a bloody fucking champ! Johnny’s gonna come inside you. I’m--”

He cuts himself off with a final grunt and one last slam of his hips, before he too is practically convulsing, fucking his way through his own orgasm.

Your body is trembling when he collapses on top of you, a tangled mass of sweaty limbs and your release. The area under you is wet and you are vaguely aware how disgusting that is. But you can’t bring yourself to care.

Johnny hums, kissing the love bites up your neck and to your cheek, lazily seeking your mouth. You turn to grant him the kiss he wants, gently rubbing the spots on his back where you now realize you dug your nails. You can feel the crescent marks, not that he seems to mind.

His hips give one more weak thrust, before he pulls out and rolls onto the desk next to you, legs hanging limply over the edge just as yours are. He carefully removes the condom, tying it closed and dropping it off the side and, hopefully, into your waste basket. Feeling around blindly for the drawer behind your calf, you open it just enough to pull out the carton of cigarettes and lighter you keep there. Shaking, you pull a stick out for yourself and offer the pack to Johnny.

He takes it gratefully as you light the end of your cigarette, passing the lighter to him afterwards and laying back down.

“How long are you in town?” you ask, taking a deep drag.

“Couple’a days,” is his muffled response.

You contemplate your next words, unsure of how they will be received. After all this time, you don’t want this to be the end. There’s clearly something between you and it would be a shame not to explore it further, no matter how dangerous that might be.

“Good, you’re staying with me,” you tell him, tossing him a grin. “No excuses.”

Johnny smiles around his cigarette, dropping the lighter and tucking his hands behind his head as he looks up at the ceiling. “Wasn’t planning any, love,” he says. “Wasn’t planning any.”

#ladyfoggdrabbles #constantine fanfic #john constantine fanfic #John Constantine #mucous membrane

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