#emphasis that this is a tongue in cheek post and i am not actually mad at these students

[bifilthatonthatseson]

Look. I stopped giving feedback on final papers years ago, when I still wrote them all down in hard copy, because no one ever came to pick them up. Nobody! The semester was over, grades were final, not one person ever cared. So why is it that now, this week, this semester that I am on leave, FIVE STUDENTS have emailed me to send them final paper comments? That I, and I cannot emphasize this enough, have not written?? Like, how dare these students actually care about learning and growing as writers after the semester is over???

[btsslowburnfic]

The Arrangement Chapter 26 (a)

Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi

Chapter Summary: More drunk Jin and Yoongi

AN: This week at school was busy so here is a partial chapter. I will post the rest by Saturday Evening. 

Previous Chapter here

You handed Jin the bottle and laughed as you followed him to the kitchen.  He pulled out a fancy wine opening gadget and sat there, entranced by it. He carefully placed it on top of the corked lid and pressed the button. A drilling sound filled the air. “What?” Jin asked, looking over at you, “You're not impressed?” He gestured to the opener, clearly thinking you should be.

You smirked, putting a hand on your hip. ”I was a bartender , I could open one of these blind folded, with a pin knife.”

“Well aren’t you just fancy.” Jin teased as he sat a wine glass on the counter.. “Yoongi-ah, do you want any wine or are you sticking with whiskey?” Jin shouted across the living room.

Yoongi looked back up from his phone. “No wine.”

Jin pulled down another glass for just himself and poured. “Describe this wine to me.” HE swished it.

“It’s red and it has a cat on the label.” You said, taking the glass.

Jin pursed his plush lips together, “Really? That’s why you bought the wine?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Hey Yoongi. Why did we buy this wine? Do you remember? It’s red. It has a cat annnnd…..?” You hoped he would play along.

“And it was cheap!” He yelled back.

You smiled and nodded your head in agreement, looking at Jin, “And it was cheap.”

Jin sniffed the liquid and took a sip. He looked vaguely offended but went back for another.

“Not so bad for cheap wine, huh?” You said, taking a sip of yours. 

“You two need to accompany me on a wine tasting some time. “ Jin chided. However, he made no attempt to sit the glass down. He walked into the living room and sat down on the pink loveseat.

You loitered in between the kitchen and living room, uncertain of where to go. Red wine plus white couches seemed like a terrible idea; you should have brought vodka. 

“Come on over,” Jin waved. “Don’t worry, if you spill the wine I’ll make Yoongi buy me a new couch.”

Yoongi looked over at Jin in slow motion, processing what had just been said. “I do like this couch actually.” He bounced up and down lightly on the white sofa. “Come over here, spill the wine, and then Jin will give it to me. We’ll just throw a blanket over the stains.” He licked his lips quickly trying to hide the smile growing on his lips.

Jin slapped his knee, laughing. “Nice try Yoongi.”

Oh my god. Were they besties now? You pondered as you walked over and sat on the white couch, between Yoongi and Jin.  “You two have had quite the afternoon it seems. Who won the game?”

“LA.” Yoongi said stretching, the tiniest bit of his tummy showing, as his shirt pulled up. 

“It went by fast,” Jin added as he scrolled through his phone. “It was at the Staples Center. You’ve been to LA, right Yoongi?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi responded boredly.

“Really? What for?” You asked, excitedly, turning towards him.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not a big deal. I went out there for a collaboration and did some radio interviews.” 

“Agust D!” Jin hyped out of nowhere, causing you to laugh. “Have you ever been to the US?” Jin asked you.

You snorted, “Uh, no. Do I look like I’ve ever traveled anywhere?” You sipped your cat wine for emphasis. 

“You’ll get there someday,” You heard Yoongi say quietly. You didn't think Jin heard. You smiled and looked over at Yoongi who was now looking down at his hands.

“There’s a big trip to Japan in the Spring. You’ll probably go along, right?” Jin commented.  

You raised your eyebrows, “I don’t know. Am I?” You asked Yoongi

He smirked, “I don’t think I’ll fire you between now and then so yeah.” 

“You’re so mean!” You teased and playfully shoved his arm.

Jin laughed. “I’m staaaaaarving. When will the food be here?” Jin asked, dramatically draping his lanky body over the side of the loveseat. 

You picked up your phone to check the app. “They just turned down the street, I’ll go meet them at the security desk,” You said and started to stand up. 

“No, no. I’ll get it. You two are my guests.” Jin got up decisively. “Text me the order so I can double check it before they leave.” He headed towards the door before you could argue. You sat back down and texted him the information before placing your phone back down on the coffee table.

“You know you’re going, right?” You heard Yoongi say.

“Huh?” You asked, looking over.

“To Japan. I mean, I guess if you want to.” He clarified.

You smirked, “Oh yeah? You sure you’re not going to fire me between now and then?”

“And go through an interview process all over again?” He asked, sounding exasperated.  “No. That would be way too much work.” 

You pouted. He would always say the sweetest things and then follow them up with smart ass comments. It usually didn’t bother you; you were similar. But for some reason, just now, it did.

“What? You don’t want to go?” He asked, noting your change in demeanor.

You exhaled slowly. “That’s not it.” You shook your head, shaking your feelings away. “I look forward to it. Like I said, I haven’t been anywhere.”

“YN, you know I’m not actually going to fire you, right?” He asked, quite seriously.

You scoffed, “Yeah. Don’t worry. I’m sure you don’t want to have to deal with your phone ringing in your office again or making your own coffee.”

Yoongi winced slightly. He sipped the whiskey and thought for a few seconds. “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” you answered too quickly. 

Yoongi looked at you. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I know.” You uncrossed your legs, “I’m not mad.”

Yoongi eyed you suspiciously. 

“I'm fine. Really. I'm looking forward to going. I'm just tired." You lied. 

He finished off his drink and  stood up.  He stretched a bit and then walked over to the kitchen, pouring another drink. 

"Rotate with water, you have a photoshoot tomorrow." You yelled. 

Yoongi looked like he was going to say something, but decided against it and got himself a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He took a few sips and then walked back over to the couch. 

He sat down, staring at you." Go on. "

You laughed awkwardly,  " 'go on' what?" 

"Drunk Yoongi can't lie. What do you want to know?" 

You pursed your lips, "ahhh I should have made a list. I'm terribly unprepared for this." 

Yoongi took another sip, "Really? Can't think of anything?" 

You started to blush slightly. You could think of lots of things to ask. None of which seemed like a great idea. "It seems like you want me to ask you questions." you tucked a foot underneath your body. 

Yoongi shrugged. "I don't know. I'm feeling more relaxed today than I have in a long time. Not just the whiskey. Just the hanging out. Doing normal shit. You know?" 

"I do. I'm glad you and Jin are becoming friends." 

Yoongi sat still for a moment thinking, "Yeah. I guess we are." 

You smiled and grabbed your glass. 

"And you. I like hanging out with you too."  He added quietly.

"Thanks. I don't even feel like the help most of the time," You quipped. Which was unfair. You knew. You were literally an employee. 

He made a whooshing sound through his teeth, “Ah. There it is.” He gestured towards you. 

“What?” You asked.

Yoongi cleared his throat and sat the glass down. “You know I like hanging out with you, I just said it. But you are technically my employee. Why get mad about it?” He shrugged.

“That’s not what I’m mad about.” You shook your head. 

“So you are mad?” 

Dammit. “Ughhh Yoongi, no. I’m not mad. I just…” You ran a hand through your hair trying how best to explain yourself.  “It’s dumb. Anyways, didn’t you also hire me to be your girlfriend?”

Yoongi bit back his immediate answer. He was drunk enough to have fun and let loose, not drunk enough to violate an NDA. He shrugged. “Yeah. Ok. So what. You want to go on a date or something? I told you, I don’t have time to go on dates. You’ve seen my schedule. Besides. I’m taking you to the auction.”

You scowled. “That’s a work function, I’m going as your assistant.”

Yoongi clicked his tongue, “I was taking you as my date. To clarify. Do you think anyone else invited their PA?”

“You didn’t ask me like I was your date,” you countered. 

Yoongi raised his eyebrows at you, “Seriously? That’s what you’re upset about?”

“No...maybe. I don’t know. It’s dumb. Don’t worry about it.” You stood up to go refill your glass and to give you a break from this conversation. You had planned to come over here and have fun, not confess to your boss and whine about your relationship status.

Yoongi grabbed your wrist as you started to walk past him. You sighed, “What? I don’t want to talk about my feelings anymore. I don’t want to be analyzed.”

“Will you go to the Auction with me as my date?” Yoongi asked. Taking a deep steadying breath, he continued, “Not as a work thing. Me taking you, as my date.” 

You looked down at him. He was making eye contact with the coffee table and his cheeks were bright red, causing you to smile a little. Shy boy. “Yes. I’d like that.”  You replied. He gently let go of your wrist. You continued on your trajectory to the kitchen. NEXT CHAPTER @lidda​  @anpanman-sonyeondan​   @firefairy1​  @cuteipat​  @sugaslittlekookies​  @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes​ @gxldenhunny​ @livelyjay​ @bobbyboops​ @honeysunandsoil​ @deathkat657​ @niniita-ah​ @min-yus​ @or-worse-expelled7​ @black-rose-29​ @storms-and-stars-blog​

[emwritesfootball]

Good Girl | Benjamin Pavard

Originally written to torture @midnghtlver / @words-for-marcus (posted with her permission)

- - - 

He knew exactly what he was doing when he sent you that message and he couldn’t wait to watch you spiral. 

YN: I finished all my work and ate lunch already. Oh, and I finished all my chores and shit!

Benjamin: Good girl

“Fuck,” you hissed when the notification popped up on your phone, the two words making your stomach dip in a more-than-friendly way. Benjamin was your friend, just your friend, but this was different. The two of you loved pushing each other’s boundaries and buttons, and he was one of the few people on the planet who could actually make you uncomfortable - a rare feat in your eyes - but this wasn’t discomfort, this was...arousal. And you hated that those two words sent your secret praise kink into overdrive.

It took you almost half an hour to find your brain but when you did, all you sent back was ‘please don’t call me that’, hoping that would do the trick.

Benjamin took almost as long to respond and your mind was running wild with thoughts and possibilities. So far, you were fixating on what it would be like to have him order you to meet up with him and subsequently fuck you in his car. You let out a low moan, squeezing your thighs together as you expanded on the thought, hearing Benjamin’s accented French telling you to be a good girl and be quiet while he fucked you roughly in the backseat of his car. 

“Please, Benjamin!” You begged, breathless as his hands slid up underneath your flimsy t-shirt and he rid you of the garment, your bra quickly falling to the floor soon after.

“You gonna be a good girl for me, chérie?” He rasped, using his pinky and ring fingers to slide your short-shorts and panties to the side so he could dip his middle finger in your already-slick cunt. 

“Oui, Benjamin! Just fuck me - please!” 

“Be quiet or I’ll stop, ‘mkay?”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and digging your nails into his shoulders as his thick cock replaced his fingers.

Your phone pinged right as you were about to finger yourself to an intense orgasm. With a blush heating your cheeks, you read his response. 

Benjamin: What else was I supposed to say?!

“You fucking tease,” you muttered, typing back with one hand as you replied to him.

You: It just sounded weird

Benjamin: You took it that way

You: Which way was I meant to take it?!

Benjamin: However you wanted

Your pussy spasmed around your fingers and you let out another soft whimper. “You would not like to know how I took it, Benjamin,” you moaned, your eyes briefly fluttering closed. “Please, don’t tempt me.”

You: You wouldn’t like to know how it was taken

Benjamin smirked to himself when he read your message. “Oh, chérie,” he murmured, shaking his head, “you had no idea how badly I’d like to make you my good little girl.”

All he sent back in reply was “Mhm” before setting his phone face down so he could free his cock from his sweatpants and stroke himself to a heady orgasm as his brain conjured up image after image of you being his good little girl.

***

You couldn’t help being awkward the next time you were around him. All you could think about was the orgasm you’d given yourself after you’d received his last text.

You imagined him staring at you as you fingered yourself, his arms crossed with his gaze fixed on your dripping cunt. You could practically feel him right there, your fingers rapidly moving in and out of your pussy. None of your roommates were home, thank God, because the wet sounds of your cunt would easily give you away. 

“Mhm, chérie,” he hummed, licking his lips lasciviously. “Just like that.” A pause as you whimpered and bucked your hips, your palm brushing against your clit. “Good girl. Are you close?”

“So close, Benjamin,” you whispered to the imaginary figure at the foot of your bed. Your body was slick with sweat, your sheets damp with your arousal and you hated that your imagination was getting the best of you. “Please let me cum.” You leaned back, your head on your pillow as you arched your back and spread your legs wider for the figment of your imagination to inspect. 

“Oh, chérie,” he chuckled demeaningly, shaking his head. “You know good girls don’t cum.”

By some power that wasn’t your own, you’d been able to take your fingers out of your pussy and shove your coated fingers in your mouth as you came down from your edge. You could hear Benjamin’s voice echoing ‘good girl’  as you cleaned your fingers with your tongue and when you went to bed that night, all you dreamt of was him taking you in various positions.

“Hello, chérie,” he greeted you, a smirk on his face that had you slightly breathless.

“Hello, Benjamin,” you replied curtly, not meeting his gaze. It was bad enough that your cunt was clenching around nothing right now, but to not be able to do anything about it was torture.

You were surrounded by Bayern players, but Benjamin didn’t seem to care, leaning in to whisper, “Have you been a good girl for me?”

Your head snapped up so fast to look at him you were surprised you didn't give yourself whiplash. “Wh-What?” Your eyes were wide, pupils dilated at those two words that turned you on like nothing else.

Benjamin cocked his head to the side, a small smile on his face as he repeated his question slowly, placing special emphasis on the two words that drove you wild. “So, chérie, have you?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “Mmhmm,” you hummed, nodding. You knew you had to be blushing furiously but you didn’t want to give Benjamin the satisfaction of knowing it was because of him - but something told you he already knew and he was more than satisfied. 

“Did you know,” he started, leaning in so he could whisper in your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “that good girls get rewarded?”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed, the words out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Everyone knows that good girls don’t cum, so how am I supposed to get rewarded?”

His eyes lit up at your confession and he watched you process what you’d just said, your blush deepening. “Oh, I’m sure we can come up with something, chérie.”

His teammates chose that moment to interrupt the two of you and you were left to your own thoughts about how else Benjamin would reward you. 

***

As much as the teasing was killing you, it was doing the same to Benjamin. He’d been slowly developing feelings of a sexual nature towards you over the most recent months of your friendship and this newfound way of teasing was just as torturous for him. 

“Merde, chérie,” he cursed, his hand squeezing around his shaft as he pretended it was your tight pussy. He was envisioning you riding him, your tits bouncing up and down as you sank yourself down on his cock over and over again. The blush that had stained your cheeks the last time he’d seen you in person was present in this fantasy, but the sounds you made while you rode him were purely in Benjamin’s head. 

“Please, Benjamin!” ‘You’ begged, your nails raking down his chest as your cunt clenched around him. “I won’t cum, I swear. Good girls don’t cum and I want to be your good girl.”

Benjamin’s orgasm tore through him before he could come up with a response to the fantasy, your name on his lips as he spilled his seed across his stomach, wondering just exactly what his cum would look like dripping out of your pussy.

***

Things were...intense...between the two of you the next few times you met up, especially since you seemed to be surrounded by either his friends or yours. Every brush of his hand across yours or your hand on his arm sent both of you reeling and you were both unaware of the fact that each of you would go home and masturbate to thoughts of the other.

It all culminated one night when the two of you somehow ended up alone. It had been almost three months since the teasing ‘good girl’ text had started and it was the first time the two of you were alone with each other. Benjamin didn’t want to scare you off or make you mad, so he’d been his pre-text self and the two of you were talking and laughing like old times. The elephant was still in the room, the air thick with so much unspoken sexual tension you were sure you’d be giving yourself multiple orgasms by the time you got home. 

Benjamin was having so much fun with you that he didn’t even notice the two words slipping past his lips until you stiffened.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your fist clenching in your lap, mimicking your spasming pussy. 

“Sorry, chérie,” he apologized, running a hand through his hair. “It just slipped out.”

“Oh, did it?” You challenged, quirking an eyebrow up at him. “That couldn’t have been a mistake, Benjamin. You know what those two words do to me.”

“I don’t, actually,” Benjamin mused, his eyes alight with mischief at the true confession. “Why don’t you paint me a picture, chérie.” His gaze held yours as he rasped, “What does it do to you when you hear me call you a good girl?”

You leaned your head back on the headrest of his car, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a groan. “Please, Benjamin.”

“Be a good girl for me and describe it to me, oui?”

You couldn’t resist, especially when Benjamin mixed a little French in with his accented English. Your tongue peeked out to wet your bottom lip and you watched Benjamin’s eyes follow the movement. “My, uh, my pussy gets wet...so wet.” As if on cue, your pussy clenched around nothing and you felt a new wave of arousal flood your panties. “Mm, and - fuck - and my clit th-throbs.” Without realizing it, you’d spread your legs and your hands were planted on the seat, centimetres from your pussy. You were wearing jeans and the rough material on your skin was heightening all the sensations. You swallowed hard, trying to moisten your dry mouth. “I can’t stop thinking about you fucking me.”

Benjamin was floored; that wasn’t the answer he was expecting, but he couldn’t deny that it was the answer he wanted. “How do I fuck you, chérie?”

“S-Sometimes, you, uh, you let me ride you. And, uhm, others you put your mouth on my pussy. There are so many other ways but I-” you shuddered as a particularly intense wave of arousal crashed over you “I think I’d rather experience them for myself.”

“Would you let me taste you, chérie?” He asked, his voice deeper and more accented. “Would you let me bury my face in between your legs and make you scream?”

“Y-Yes.” You were breathless, your chest heaving as you tried to take shallow breaths. “God, yes.”

“Good girl.”

“Fuuuck, Benjamin!” You gasped, whimpering as you squirmed in your seat. He hadn’t even touched you and you were so needy you couldn’t stand it any longer. “Please touch me or do something - anything!”

“Get in the backseat.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, your legs shaking a bit as you got out of the passenger seat and climbed into the back. 

Benjamin took his time, the foreplay killing both of you. He kissed you softly with just enough urgency and heat under it to leave you both wanting more. Just like in your first fantasy, he made you straddle him but not before he slowly rid you of your jeans and panties and buried his face in your cunt. The slurping noises he made followed by his grunts of approval that mixed with your whimpers quickly brought you to a screaming orgasm. You rode his face, your hands tangled in his curls as you held him in place and rutted against him.

“Good girl,” he praised, his lips shiny with your juices and you thought you’d cum again right then. “Let’s see how good you take this cock.”

Before you knew what was happening, Benjamin was seated in the backseat and you were straddling him, your pussy poised above the tip of his cock. Both of you let out a content sigh as he lowered you down onto his length, the angle stretching you out in the best ways. His fingers dug into your hips and you were sure you’d have bruises the next day but you didn’t care. 

“Harder, Benjamin! Please!” You begged, rewarded with a slap on your ass as he picked up the pace and slammed his cock into you over and over. 

You didn’t remember much after he came inside you but you knew he gave you more than three orgasms, forcing the last couple out of you. You were marked up and satisfied, drunk on orgasms and overstimulation by the time he was done with you. 

***

A week later, you were walking up to his house, your heart racing as you knocked on the door. Benjamin answered the door in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that had you speechless for a moment, but you quickly regained your composure when he pulled you into his foyer to make sure you’d been a good girl all week.

“Let’s see how many orgasms I’m rewarding you with this week, eh, chérie?” He asked, smirking as he slipped a hand underneath your skirt, a grunt of approval when he discovered you’d followed the rules and hadn’t worn panties.

From then on, it became a weekly - and sometimes daily - thing between the two of you. Benjamin loved giving you tasks to complete and you loved completing them, especially when you were first praised with a ‘good girl’ and sometimes an orgasm.

[calpalirwin]

Running Back to You

Summary: Post-tour life takes its toll

A/N: Wanted to angst this series up a bit so grab the tissues. 

Word Count: 3.7k

And away, and away we go!

__

~Ashton’s POV~

“Oh!” Vanessa’s hand slapped down on the table as her eyes lit up. “I’m gonna make cookies!”

“That sounds great, baby,” I smiled at her. I had flown in the night before and we were figuring out how to spend the day before taking the kids to dinner with Finn for their weekly tradeoff. While cookies sounded amazing, I was selfishly looking forward to our childless evening later. Because even though I had given her a pretty good idea of how much I had missed her when she visited me on tour, I wanted to make the concept crystal clear, leaving no room for even the slightest trickle of doubt.

She quickly got up from the table, a giant grin on her face. I watched her for a moment, mesmerized by the woman and her ability to make any room she was in feel so alive and upbeat. “What?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at me.

“Nothing,” I chuckled, shaking my head. “Just glad to be home.”

There was a lapse of silence as she busied herself with pulling out everything she needed to make cookies, broken by Mason piping up, “Momma?”

“Yes, sweet boy?”

“Momma.” He pointed at the ingredients gathered about the kitchen island counter.

“You wanna help me make cookies?”

“Momma!”

She crouched down to grab him and swing him up on the counter besides everything. “Love?” she asked me. “Can you go check on Bailey, and bring me the baby monitor? I forgot to bring it with me after I set her down for her nap.”

I drummed my fingers against the table as I stood up. “Sure thing. I’m gonna go deal with the garden after. You did remember to water it, yeah?” I teased.

“Yes, because unlike some people, I know how to keep things alive,” she giggled, teasing me back.

“Ouch!” I dramatically clutched at my chest. “Straight for the kill, huh?”

Her laugh was still ringing out as I headed up the staircase towards the nursery. I checked that Bailey was still fast asleep, before grabbing the baby monitor and tiptoeing back out of the room and downstairs. “All good, baby,” I reported, kissing her cheek that already had streaks of flour on it. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

~Vanessa’s POV~

I pulled the cookies out of the oven, setting them down to cool. “Momma!” Mason pointed excitedly at them.

“Not right now, Mase. They’re for after lunch,” I told him. By then they would have cooled down enough to eat.

“Momma,” he pouted.

“Pout all you want, the answer is still the same.’”

His feet kicked against the counter. “Momma!”

I crouched down a little to be eye level with him. “I know you want them. But just because you ask, does not mean you automatically get. I’m not telling you that you can’t have one. I’m saying that you can’t have one right this second. I need you to be patient, okay? Cookie later.”

He responded with an ear-splitting scream, flapping his arms at his sides. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the lights on the baby monitor go off. Great…

I set Mason down on the kitchen floor, and when I was sure he would just keep screaming and flapping rather than other more destructive stimming, I dashed upstairs to get Bailey. 

~Ashton’s POV~

I heard the screaming, so I rocked back on my heels, dusting my hands against my jeans. With Mason, it was hard to tell the difference between happy and mad screeching, so I got up to make my way inside the house just in case Vanessa needed back up.

A seemingly endless scream was still working its way out of Mason from where he was sitting on the kitchen floor, Vanessa nowhere in sight. I glanced at the counter, noticing the lights of the baby monitor. So Bailey had woken up and Vanessa had run off to deal with that leaving Mason cookie-less for longer than he would have liked. The scream cut off, the moment his face zeroed in on me. “Papa,” was the hoarse hiccup, as he pointed up at the cookies.

“Did Momma not have time to grab you a cookie before Bailey woke up?” I asked, picking him up off the ground and rubbing his back.

“Papa,” he nodded with a sniff.

“Okay, let’s get you a cookie.” I grabbed one, breaking it in half and blowing on it. “Careful, it’s still a little hot,” I warned, holding out one half for him to take a bite of.

He seemed to understand because instead of taking it into his own hand, he opened his mouth so I could hold it while he took a bite. A content smile broke out across his face as the soft cookie broke off in his mouth and the warm chocolate melted further on his tongue.

“What the actual fuck?” Vanessa’s voice snapped behind us and I whirled to find her with Bailey on her hip and fire in her eyes. Uh-oh…

~Vanessa’s POV~

I wasn’t sure why the sight of Mason munching on a cookie in Ashton’s arms made me as angry as it did. It wasn’t like Ashton had been inside to hear me tell Mason that he couldn’t have a cookie until after lunch. And it wasn’t like Mason could, or would, explain to his papa that I had said he needed to wait. He was three. He saw his chance, and he took it. But I was furious all the same. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Ashton asked me, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

“I told him he needed to wait until after lunch…”

“Shit, baby, I didn’t know. I’m sorry…” Ashton apologized. 

That should have been the end of it. But for some reason his admittance of the obvious only further ticked me off. Why? Why was I so mad about my son eating a cookie? Why was this the hill I was going to stake my claim, and die on today? Why did I feel so out of control? When did this start? Think, Nessa, think!

The feeling had started months ago when I had woken up in the empty house for the first time. Sure, I had my own dresser, and I had things hung up across from Ashton’s in the closet. But it was his closet. Sure, my children had their rooms, but it was their rooms in “Papa’s house.” While I certainly lived there, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was still far more Ashton’s home than our home.

And now, watching Mason happily take another bite from half a cookie in Ashton’s hand, made that feeling increase tenfold. Like it didn’t matter what I had told Mason because Ashton could override it because it was his house. And the worst part was that I only had myself to blame because I had been the one who rushed things. Sure, Ashton had played his role of charming outsider who saw me as a woman rather than a mess, and he had played it very well. But it had ultimately been me who hadn’t firmly set those boundaries because it felt so good to feel wanted as a partner. Only I wasn’t a partner anymore, I was just coexisting in the same place. And damn it, if this feeling didn’t cut me deeper than it had the first time when this had happened with Finn.

But that’s not what’s happening, I told myself. Ash isn’t undermining you. He didn’t know. He apologized.

This time it’s an accident. Next time it’s on purpose…

“If you didn’t know, why didn’t you check with me first?” I could hear the shake in my voice as I fought to keep it controlled. I hated the words and the bitter taste they left in my mouth, but I couldn’t stop them from rolling off my lips.

“You’re right,” Ashton admitted, dropping the uneaten quarter of a cookie down next to the other half. “You made them, so I should have checked with you first. I’m sorry.”

I didn’t want his apology. Especially not when he used the same tone I did when I had to calm down Mason. I wanted… fuck, what did I want? I wanted to feel like I was in control of my life, not bouncing from being dependent on Finn to being dependent on Ashton. I wanted to not feel so fuckin’ lost in who I was compared to who I used to be, and who I wanted to be. I wanted to know who it was I wanted to be.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” His chuckle was soft and nervous as he closed the distance between us and his thumb brushed away the tears on my cheeks I hadn’t noticed were there. “Can you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours cuz I’m a little lost here…”

“You’re a little lost?” My words were a harsh scoff.

His hand fell and his jaw twitched in irritation. “Look, I’ve apologized three times now for him eating a quarter of a cookie before you said he could. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

“I don’t want anything from you!” I hissed, taking a step back.

“Then why are you so mad? What am I not seeing here? Feel free to clue me in at any time…”

I wanted to curse and scream everything I was feeling so he would know how much I was hurting inside. But I couldn’t because it would upset Bailey and Mason. “Can I have my son, please?” I asked instead.

His face fell at where my emphasis was. “Yeah.” Ashton set Mason down on his feet. “Go to your momma, Mase…” He masked his hurt in his own emphasis. My lack of ability to express myself had turned into a fight of showcasing my control. That this was my life he was living in, not me living in his like it appeared. The chance for equal ground lost the moment I opened my mouth.

I wanted to backpedal. My logic was screaming at me to stop, but the irrational part had its hand clamped over logic’s mouth, muffling it. “Where are you going?” Ashton followed me as I grabbed Mason’s hand and walked us out of the kitchen.

“I don’t know.” Finally some fuckin’ honesty.

“Are you coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Baby…” a broken plea. The one I couldn’t make for myself. 

I dropped Mason’s hand momentarily to swing the diaper bag up onto my shoulder before grabbing his hand again. “I don’t know who I am, Ashton,” I answered back, just as broken.

~Ashton’s POV~

A motherfuckin’ cookie… a single fuckin’ cookie had sent my girlfriend running out of the house going off about how she didn’t know who she was. What the actual fuck?

I sat down on the couch, wiping a hand down my face, and trying to figure out just what the hell had happened. My head was reeling from how in a matter of a half hour we had gone from baking cookies to breaking up. Had we broken up? Had I just been dumped?! Was I supposed to go after her? Or was I supposed to give her space? Fuck, I was gonna be sick…

~Vanessa’s POV~

“I thought Ash was home.” Finn commented as he helped Mason into his booster seat while I put Bailey in the high chair.

“He is.”

“Jet lag?”

I shook my head. I didn’t have it in me to explain to Finn what was going on in my head anymore than I had had it in me to explain it to Ashton this morning. I was exhausted from my mind running itself in circles. I just wanted to rest but nowhere felt like home.

“Shit… sleeping in the guest room bad, or you’re getting a hotel bad?”

I held up two fingers. How could I go back, and face Ashton after what I’d done? I had given him no indication that anything was wrong, and then I had stormed out giving no indication that I would be back. And after the third call, I had turned my phone off. What was I supposed to do? Walk back in, and say sorry?

“Jesus, Ness… what happened?”

“I don’t know who I am, or where I belong…” I whispered, afraid if I spoke any louder it would somehow make everything more real than it already was.

“Oh, Ness…”

~Ashton’s POV~

I hated the way my heart leapt in my throat at the knock on my door. I hated that I had been pacing the house for hours on end. I hated that every phone call went straight to voicemail. I hated that I had never felt more helpless in my life. How could I fix what had happened between Vanessa and me if I had no idea what had gone wrong in the first place? Or what if I was a bigger idiot than I thought for not seeing the signs that something had been wrong?

I wrenched the door open, my heart racing, and every bit of me praying it was her on the other side. So seeing Finn definitely made me do a double-take. “Hey, mate,” I mumbled, stepping aside to let him in. “She’s not here.”

“Yeah, I know. I came here to talk to you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Look, I didn’t get too much out of her, but whatever this is, you gotta fix it. Like the only times I’ve ever seen her this far gone has been when she’s dealt with her family, and I’ve legit told her I wasn’t in love with her anymore at one point so…”

“Fuck…” I collapsed on the couch. Tears pricked in the corners of my eyes. She hadn’t even been this torn up when her and Finn broke up? Fuck… “I dunno what I did… one second we were fine, and the next she was calling Mase hers. And…”

“And she never does that,” Finn nodded, sitting down next to me. “She never pulls the biology card because it doesn’t matter. You’ve accepted Mason as your own, and you’ve been there for Bailey since day one just like we have. You’re Papa, and there’s nothing else to it.”

“But today she did… today she said “my son” in regards to Mase. Over a fuckin’ cookie…”

Finn stifled a laugh. “Sorry, what? A cookie? She’s sleeping at a hotel over a cookie?”

“She’s at a hotel? Which one?”

“I’ll tell you after you tell me what’s going on.”

“I dunno what’s going on! That’s the whole fuckin’ problem, mate!”

Finn held up a hand. “Just tell me your side of things.”

So I told Finn about how we had gone from cookies to “I don’t know who I am.” “Like I know she’s not really mad about the cookie. I know there’s some bigger problem. And I tried to get her to talk to me but she just clammed up and left. And I’ve been sitting here all day wondering if we just had a fight, or if I legit lost her, and I have zero fuckin’ answers.”

“I’m just as in the dark as you are. But, when you were on tour, she did mention feeling like she had lost part of herself. That she didn’t know who she was outside of the kids, you, and me. And that was like right after you left. So it’s probably been eating at her for a while, and the cookie debacle was just her breaking point. Like Ness is very good at putting on a front. She’s good at acting unbothered a lot of the time. She was good at doing that even before we had Mason, which is part of what makes me feel so fuckin’ inadequate in dealing with him compared to her because she makes swallowing her personal feelings so easy. But between the way she grew up, and then everything we’ve been through with Mason… like I said, I’m just in the dark as you are. But I think there’s been a voice that’s been telling her she’s not in control of her own life. And she had her made up list of reasons that proved it. And then you unconsciously reinforced those reasons when she found you giving Mason the cookie she said he couldn’t have. And she finally listened because that’s a lot to deal with just all in your head.”

“Anybody tell you you should be a therapist?” I deadpanned, my heart breaking in my chest for her. It made perfect sense everything Finn had said. She had gone from living with her parents and dealing with her sister constantly one-upping her as some sort of twisted game Vanessa never wanted any part of, to living with Finn and raising Mason, to living with me and raising both Mason and Bailey. She never had a chance to really figure out if she was doing anything on her own; to discover if she was capable of doing anything on her own. And I’d unknowingly played right into it by accidentally undermining her parenting with Mason. I had managed to do the one thing I never wanted to do to her by doing the only thing I wanted to do to her: I had hurt her by loving her.

Finn chuckled softly, pushing up onto his feet. “Good thing I work in family counseling then. Anyway, she’s at the Hilton downtown.”

“Thanks,” I said, following him towards the door and grabbing my keys off the hook. “Hey Finn?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you helping me? I mean… I don’t want to be that guy, but you know her so well, and you guys have history, and whatnot. Aren’t you supposed to be rooting for me to fuck up?”

Finn laughed, shaking his head. “Because you’re Papa Ash. You’d have to fuck up pretty bad for me to root in favor my kids losing a parent. And this? A fight where neither of you fucked up because she lost to her head? Yeah, not on the list.”

~Vanessa’s POV~

I clicked my phone to light up the screen for the millionth time. Nothing. Absolute silence since it buzzed out the notification of 27 missed calls after I turned it back on. Not text messages. No voicemails. No other notifications. Just 27 missed calls from Ashton.

I hated this hotel room. As pretty as it was, the freedom I thought it would bring was suffocating. Nothing in here was familiar. Not the set up, not the views, and definitely not the smells. I wanted to go home, but I didn’t know how. As much as I had been hurting, Ashton hadn’t deserved for me to bring him down to my level of hurt. He had tried to talk to me like an adult, and like a child I had pushed him away and slammed the door.

But if I stayed in this room for one second longer, the whole world was going to learn where Mason got his lungs from. Maybe I could just go to the lobby. Take things from there. Little tasks to make the bigger one seem less daunting.

Somehow I made it down to the lobby, which was weird because I didn’t remember stepping off the elevator, much less actually leaving the room. “Now just get to the car. The car. The car.” I repeated to myself as I speed-walked across the fancy tiled floor. The faster I moved, the less time I would have to overthink what I was doing. Problem was, the faster I moved meant the less I paid attention to anything besides tripping over my own two feet, meaning I definitely tripped over the black pair of boots that raced into my path, sending me colliding into the solid chest of their owner. “Shit! I’m so-” I started before the rest of my senses kicked in. I knew the strength of the arms that instinctively wrapped around me so I wouldn’t fall back; the muscles that belonged to the solid chest; and the smell of sunshine that clung to the wearer of the black boots that had almost knocked me over for the second time in my life. “Sorry,” I breathed, pulling back. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I came to bring you back home. Where were you going?”

“I was coming home.”

“Oh, thank God!” Ashton laughed in relief. 

I laughed with him, stretching upwards to throw my arms around his neck. “I’m sorry,” I cried into his shirt, finally finding the comfort I’d been looking for all day. “I’m so sorry!”

“Shh…” he shushed, holding me tight to him. “There’s nothing to apologize for.” One large hand was in my hair, cradling my head into his chest while the other rubbed at my back.

“I’m sorry!” I continued to cry anyway. “I got overwhelmed, and I didn’t know how to stop,  and…”

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me. Right at me.” He pressed his forehead into mine, and I slowly raised my gaze to meet his hazel one that was as soft as his voice. “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”

I choked on my next sob as it turned into a laugh at his terrible ass joke. “That’s not funny,” I laughed anyway.

His body shook with his own laughter. “It’s a little funny.”

I nuzzled my nose against his. “I’m sorry,” I mouthed.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry too. You’re fuckin’ amazing in everything you do, and I don’t ever want you to doubt that. And I’m so fuckin’ sorry if there was anything I ever did that made you doubt yourself.” Each sentence was punctuated with a kiss. First my forehead, then either of my cheeks, and finally my lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Ash?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can we go home now?”

“Is the room already paid for?”

“Yeah…”

His fingers trailed down my back before going up the front of my shirt. “Seems a bit of a waste, doesn’t it?” he asked, his breath hot upon my neck where he lips traveled next.

“A-Ash?” I breathed, feeling my body go lax in his hold.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

__

Tag List

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[wendyhamlet]

Third time’s the charm

I blame @bittenred (not that I’m complaining lol)

Inspired by @magimagali ‘s amazing art:

http://bittenred.tumblr.com/post/178706387018/magimagali-seven-minutes-in-heaven

~~~~~~~~~~

“Everyone find a spot! Hunk scoot over. Lance! Could you grab my phone?”

He turned to where Pidge had motioned and grabbed her phone, joining the circle of his peers sitting on the floor. “Here ya go.” He said as he handed it over, his eyes flickered to her right, daring to glance at Keith while he was distracted.

He took a sip from his bottle, his neck shifting as he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. Condensation glistened on his lower lip, and Lance watched, transfixed as Keith dragged his teeth across it to catch the droplets absentmindedly.

He’d gotten taller, and broader. Backpacking across Europe for the past year with his mom must have been a good workout.

“Lance, finish that bottle off so we can use it.”

Keith’s gaze, redirected by Allura’s comment, flickered over to Lance, their eyes met for a moment, but Lance looked away quickly, cheeks flushing at being caught staring.

He downed the last of his beer and set the bottle down on its side in the middle of their circle. “Alright, who’s first?”

“You might as well.”

He shrugged, needing something to keep him occupied so he wouldn’t keep looking at or thinking about Keith.

Reaching forward, he gave the bottle a good flick, watching as it spun around and around, slowing and finally stopping. On Keith.

The circle all cheered and hooted, laughing at the look on both young men’s faces.

“Time for a new rivalry, who’s the better kisser?” Hunk said between chuckles.

Lance shot an unamused look at his best friend, his cheeks flaming as he stretched across the circle and placed the quickest of kisses against Keith’s cheekbone. “There, who’s next?”

As the game continued around the circle, Lance chanced another quick glance at Keith, having avoided looking at him when he had kissed him, knowing he would have lost the nerve or done something stupid.

Keith was watching the game, laughing when Pidge kissed Allura’s nose. He had a flush of pink across his face, like the last hints of a sunset. It was probably just from the alcohol he had drunk.

“Okay Keith, your turn.”

He spun the bottle, body language relaxed, idly watching the light catch the glass as it slowed to a stop.

Lance felt his heart skip, staring at the neck of the bottle which was pointed directly at him. The noise of the others blurred into static as he lifted his gaze and met Keith’s across the circle. Why was he so hard to read? His expression was neutral, the only hint of what he was thinking being the slight downward angle of his left eyebrow. Also why did he have such great eyebrows? Lance Focus, you’re not in middle school.

“Second match means you’ve gotta kiss on the lips this time.”

Keith rolled his eyes at the giddy proclamation. “Whatever.”

“Whose idea was it to play this anyway?” Lance asked indignantly, his voice cracking slightly.

“Yours, now hurry up and kiss each other or you’ll have to do it French style.”

Lance spluttered, feeling his ears burn from the intensity of his blush. Before he could protest the rules, Keith had slid forward across the circle and pecked his lips, barely making contact before moving back to his seat.

Forgetting how to breathe for a few moments, Lance fought the urge to touch his lips, very very determined to avoid looking at Keith at all costs. Before he knew it it was his turn to spin again, and desperate for any kind of distraction, he spun.

If there were any gods out there, they either really loved him, or really really hated him.

“Third time! Time to play seven minutes in heaven!”

Lance couldn’t even hear what he was saying but he knew he was protesting, arguing the rules and trying to convince the others that they had agreed against the seven minutes in heaven rule.

Despite his best efforts, he and Keith ended up herded into the hallway closet and left alone in the dark.

“Forcing a guy back in the closet, not cool guys!” He called, pounding his fist against the door a few times for emphasis. Huffing, he turned around and let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting, looking at Keith. “Sorry.”

He shrugged, hands in his pockets. “You know we don’t actually have to do anything in here, right? Just wait for the seven minutes to pass.”

Lance was grateful for the dim lighting so Keith couldn’t see him blushing. “I know that! Just...you know, everyone will talk.”

“Since when do you care what people think?”

“Well, I don’t really, just...I don’t know.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, then Keith spoke up. “Are you okay?”

Lance looked up, frowning slightly. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Just, you seem...different.”

“Me? You’re the one who’s, you know, more-” He uncrossed one arm and gestured at Keith vaguely. “-grizzled.”

Keith smiled slightly, raising his eyebrows. “Grizzled?”

“You know what I mean. You’ve just changed a lot in the past year.”

“I guess so…”

Silence again.

“So, how was it? Reconnecting with your mom?”

“Good.”

More silence.

Keith idly looked through the contents of the closet they were in, slowly making his way closer to Lance in his exploration. “How long do you think it’s been?”

“I don’t know. Maybe three minutes.” He watched Keith run his fingers over a stack of towels. “Having fun?”

Keith chuckled, the sound warm and cloying. “Just a little bored.”

Lance tried to think of something to say, but he kept coming up short. When did conversation between the two of them become so difficult? They used to be able to talk for hours on end, even if they argued, at least they were talking. This weird distance between them was unbearable. Things just hadn’t been the same since he left.

“So I bet Europe was pretty cool, I’d love to travel some day, I mean I’ve been to Cuba to visit family and stuff but it’d be cool to see other places too. And your mom seems pretty cool, not that I’ve talked to her much but she looks like a badass and was really nice and-”

“Hey Lance?”

He stopped rambling and looked up, realizing they could see easily eye to eye. Was Keith a little taller than him now? “Yeah?” His brain short circuited as Keith leaned forward and pressed his lips against his.

His eyes widened and he found himself holding his breath as Keith stayed there for a long moment before pulling away.

“You talk too much sometimes.”

Letting the breath he had been holding out in a rush, Lance blinked and reached up to touch his lips. “What the hell was that?”

Keith shrugged. “A kiss?”

“No shit Sherlock, I meant why the hell?”

Shoulders hunching defensively, Keith shot back quickly. “Why? I don’t know you tell me, you’re the one who’s been sending signals.”

“What? Since when?” Lance protested, knowing damn well since when.

“Okay look, nevermind, just forget it, okay? I’ve had too much to drink tonight anyway.” Keith said, stepping back, his walls visibly closing back around him.

“No, you don’t get to do that, not again.” Lance said, feeling the rush of emotions he’d been holding back overwhelm him, crashing through the fragile barrier he had built. “What the fuck, man? You can’t just do something like that and then say to forget it. How am I supposed to forget it when I still can’t forget the fact that you left?”

Keith softened. “What?”

Lance felt his throat go tight, determined not to cry, not in front of him, not when he was finally getting to say what he had been wanting to for over a year. “You left. We were a team, we were friends, and you left. Like, yeah I get that you had stuff to do and then you reconnected with your mom and everything but you can’t just-” His voice broke for a moment and he paused, letting his head and heart settle. “The way we left things, it wasn’t good. And I had no way of contacting you, no way to smooth things over. Hell, I didn’t even know where you were most of the time.”

“I...I didn’t-”

“No, you know what, it’s fine.” Lance took a deep breath. “I just needed to say that, I’m over it.”

“I’m not.” Keith finally looked him in the eye, and the emotion there was raw and vulnerable. “I’m not over it.”

“What- what do you mean?”

Keith opened his mouth to say something, closed it again, and growled in frustration, running a hand messily through his hair. “I’m not good at-” he gestured vaguely “-this. I just...fuck it.” He grabbed Lance’s tie and pulled him forward, kissing him hard.

Lance was taken off guard, hands held out at his sides, stiff and trying desperately to stand his ground and stay mad because god it had hurt when he left. But Keith was here now, with him, and he was so so warm.

He folded like a petal in the wind, his hands moving to hold Keith’s face, brow furrowing as he pressed back against Keith’s advances, his frustration and hurt finding release in the feeling of his fingers in Keith’s hair, the weeks and months, hell the years of pining confessed in the movement of his lips.

Keith pulled back slightly, barely leaving room to breathe between them as he frowned, forehead rubbing against Lance’s. “Wait-wait...what about you and Allura?”

Lance’s nose bumped his as he shook his head. “It didn’t work out, we were both trying to get over other people.”

“Sorry.” Keith said, trying to find sincerity in his heart, he was lying if he thought he wasn’t happy that things didn’t work out.

“It’s fine, just- kiss me?” His eyes were glowing, staring at and through Keith, pulling him in like a siren calling a sailor to his death, and there was nothing Keith wanted more than to drown in that gaze forever.

He was soft this time, gentle kisses placed against Lance’s mouth, tracing his Cupid’s bow with delicate reverence. Lance parted his lips and let out a sound that turned his blood to magma, slow and impossibly hot, burning his skin and spreading heat through his veins with every short breath he exhaled against Keith’s lips.

“Keith…”

Fuck, his name on Lance’s tongue was the final note to pull him in, the water closing over his head as he sank in deeper and deeper. His lips trailed from his lips down to his jaw, teeth scraping the sharp ridge there before moving to the delicate skin of his neck, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the race of his pulse thrum beneath his lips, the way his fingers curled tightly into the hair at the nape of his neck as he kissed him there long and slow.

“Keith.” Lance dropped his head back, granting Keith full access to the slender expanse of his neck.

Keith found a stretch of skin that made Lance moan, taking his time to explore the area carefully and commit it to memory, his fingers working to loosen the tie at his collar and pull open his shirt to reveal more alluring brown skin.

Lance’s hands were insistent and relentless in his hair, combing through the thick strands, curling and pulling, pushing it back from his forehead. Keith could lose himself to the feeling of Lance’s fingers against his scalp, sparks lighting in the wake of his touches.

Moving back up, Keith looked at Lance’s lips, bitten red and glistening, like a fruit ripe for the tasting. Hungry, he devoured him, a groan bubbling from his chest as Lance coaxed his lips apart and explored with his tongue, his hands moving from his hair and down underneath Keith’s shirt, eagerly exploring bare skin.

Blinded suddenly by the light in the closet flicking on, Keith tore his mouth from Lance’s and turned to the door.

Reluctant to release him from his grip, Keith kept both arms firmly wrapped around Lance, left hand boldly resting very low on his back.

Before the others could say anything Keith temporarily released Lance to slam the door shut and say abruptly. “Your watches are fast.”

Lance, ruffled, flushed, and grinning from ear to ear, laughed. Full bellied and genuine laughter that had Keith feeling overwhelmed by the softness he felt for him.

Smirking, he crossed the closet’s small floor space and wrapped Lance back in his arms, fingers drawing slow circles against the skin exposed on his lower back, drinking in the way it made Lance shiver and push tighter against him.

“Now. Where were we?”