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fayeimara · 3 years

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Miya Osamu || Little Delights | First Meeting

SUMMARY. Osamu can't help but be intrigued when his daughter starts bringing home delicious desserts prepared by her best friend's mother.

PAIRING. You x Miya Osamu

GENRE. Fluff <3

WARNINGS. Suggestive content

Haikyuu! Anthology Series | It's Fate When Your Kids Are Friends

OSAMU | First Meeting > Second Date > Third Time's The Charm > Four Is Our Family

Osamu's made it just in time, right as the bell tolls to signal the end of his daughter's second day in her new school year. Standing back as a swarm of kids rush out of the brick building and into the arms of their waiting parents, he takes a moment to breathe and relax. Juggling his burgeoning restaurant with being a single parent isn't an easy job, but he wouldn't trade it for anything.

He stands taller than many of the other adults around him and it's evident his little girl has no problem seeking him out as a black, red, and grey blur races towards him, a thrilled, "Papa!" reaching his ears and splitting his mouth into a wide, happy grin.

His arms are already open in a silent but enthusiastic response as he crouches down and then the bite-sized impact of his daughter is rocking him back on his heels, his reaction overly exaggerated as he pretends to almost fall over from the small force of nature that's all Miya Izumi.

Standing back up, Samu catches sight of another little girl who was trailing behind, wide eyes studying him before shifting to Zumi, his daughter turning back around to wave at her, proclaiming the girl as her 'bestest friend in the whole wide world'. The girl returns Zumi's enthusiastic wave with a quick raise of her small hand before her attention is caught by a pretty young woman, her own wide smile replacing her previously hesitant expression as she's warmly enveloped into welcoming arms with kisses peppered on her cheeks and forehead.

Her delighted giggles reach Osamu and his daughter as they turn around, hand in hand, to walk back to his car, small interaction soon forgotten as his little munchkin lists off the snacks she's looking forward to having on their return to his shop. She won't be able to finish half that list, he bets to himself with a quiet chuckle at his daughter's inherited exuberance for food as he securely buckles her into car.

It's not until they reach his second pride and joy, Onigiri Miya, that he finds the first little surprise tucked away in Izumi's not so empty lunchbox. When he inquires about the remarkably delicious looking set of biscuits he certainly didn't pack for her that morning, his daughter's response is that it's a thank you gift from her bestest friend, Reina, for the lunch she'd shared with the girl on her first day.

Well, a six year old certainly didn't bake these from the looks of it. It's only confirmed by his first taste, the texture and flavour beyond even most consistent home bakers, let alone a young child. Right? But a more pressing thought flags his attention, first.

"Did your friend not have her own lunch?"

"She did! We split because hers wasn't so good, even though her mama put so much love into it. But the treats were so much better so we decided to go halfsies and have best of both!" His daughter giggles with the oblivious sweet innocence of a child.

"And what about today?"

"Mhm. Same. But I liked the chocolate brownies yesterday much much better!"

Samu chuckles at her excitement and can't help but tease his precocious daughter, "Oh, and was it better than papa's food?"

Zumi's eyes widen as she contemplates the question with all the adorable seriousness she can muster, but loyalty must break free and run because her reply is, "Almost! So close, but I love papa's cooking more than anything in the whole wide world."

It seems the whole wide world is the current standard of measurement for first graders, but he appreciates the heartfelt sentiment behind her loving words.

After another moment of consideration, Osamu settles on the thought chewing at him and decides that tomorrow his daughter won't be giving up a portion of his food which she loves so much. No, she'll have double the amount to do with whatever she may please.

So briefly, that he doesn't even ponder on the sudden image, he's reminded of the warm reunion he witnessed between the little girl and the woman who he'd assumed was her nanny, but concludes is probably the girl's young mother. Based on the number of treats Zumi brought back, Samu's certain the woman had to have thoughtfully made extras of these baked goods for her daughter to have more than enough to share with friends and then some.

Well, it's definitely no skin off his back to make his daughter even the slightest bit happier by being able to help her share her savoury little delights with her new bestest friend.

It's on the third day of your daughter's return from her new school year that you're able to confirm that something is indeed amiss. The previous two days, the small portions of her lunch left uneaten were questionable, given her voracious appetite, however, when she returns with the lunch you made for her today still sitting wholly untouched in her cute little lunchbox, you finally sit her down to ask about it.

Her response is far from what you expected, "My friend's papa made extra lunch so we could both have something yummy to eat!"

You press your lips together to hide your amusement as you teasingly inquire, "Oh? Is that so? And I guess that means mama's food isn't so yummy after all."

Her eyes widen in dismay and mouth opens in an immediate denial that you know would be a lie to soothe your feelings. Even at such a young age, your beautiful baby girl is truly a kind and compassionate soul, she would dutifully eat anything you prepared no matter how lacking the meal might be and never utter a word to tell you the obvious truth.

Before she can manage to find the right words to faithfully express how much she loves your cooking, you lean in to kiss her on the forehead and pull back with a laugh, gathering her in your arms for a warm hug. "Oh baby, I'm so sorry I can't make you the food you deserve. But please don't ever feel the need to say otherwise to spare my feeling, okay? You should always be honest about what you like or don't like."

Her little arms find their way around you as she snuggles in, voice soft and words like a wise, old soul when she denies, "But your food is made with so much love mama. Zumi says some people are just better at other things. We both think you make the best yummies."

"The best yummies, hm?" You think about the various baked goods you add in to balance out for the healthy but tasteless lunches you're able to prepare.

They are indeed good, but baking has always been something that comes more naturally to you than cooking. An interesting distinction not many people might accept, but for you the former has always been an effortless science whereas the latter is more of a difficult art.

"Well I'm really glad you like those, but we do need to figure out what to do so you're not picking at your friends' food or going hungry."

She pulls back to send a serious look your way, exclaiming, "But I'm not picking at it, I promise. Zumi said her papa made extra just for me!"

You take a moment to consider her words. She made a similar implication in her earlier statement, that her friend's dad had made extra for them both. What does that mean? Did his daughter ask him to because she was sharing her food with Reina? Or did he somehow grasp the situation and is simply being generous?

A warm burn threatens your cheeks as you consider the awkwardness of accepting such a gesture from a complete stranger. While you appreciate the kindness of Reina's friend and her dad, it still somehow feels like a terrible imposition, as if you've burdened them somehow with your lack of skills to keep your child happily fed.

It's not like you can't cook good, healthy food. You're just painfully aware how bland the food you make can be, unless you spend three times the amount of time as anyone else would need to in order to prepare similar meals. But... studying the smile that's on your daughter's face, you can't help the twinge in your heart that reminds you how much more her happiness is worth than your pride.

You won't assume this will be a daily occurrence and you'll continue to make your daughters lunches so she never goes without, however, it'll be no extra trouble for you to make double the batch of baked goods than usual. After all, you usually account for the fact that she'll be sharing with friends and classmates anyways.

However, you're now determined there will be enough delicious snacks for Reina to share not only around at school, but also some treats for her sweet friend Izumi to take home for her generous parents. Perhaps, you think, it might be prudent to include a short message, thanking the man for his thoughtful effort.

Silent gratitude isn't very much to anyone ~ (So I hope you and your family will accept these.) Thank you for your kindness, Miya-san.

Osamu blinks, unaware of the small smile that curves his lips as he reads the delicate, handwritten note carefully wrapped around one of the cupcakes Izumi brought back home today. There are only three of the original twelve left, apparently, but the one he's just bitten into is as incredible as expected.

If he's correct in his assumption from the note addressed directly to him and included with today's delightful treats, then the little girl's mother has picked up on his small action and is returning the gesture to convey her thanks. The thought is confirmed by his daughter explaining that one of each of the three cupcakes is for their family.

Three for their family? Hm. Well, it's just him and Zumi, but he's sure his brother will be all over the remaining offering when he visits tonight. If there's any left for him that is. Probably won't be, it's really just that good and anyways, he doesn't need Atsumu nosing his way into this simple exchange as it is.

The following day, Friday morning, Samu pens back his own note, assuring the woman that no thanks is necessary. There's no reason for her to express her gratitude over what's really such a simple action for him.

That evening, he and Zumi enjoy some quality mochi delivered in a white, rectangular box with a pretty decently hand-drawn background scene at a spring festival on the cover. Two little girls, one that looks remarkably like his daughter and the other like her best friend, hold hands in the centre of the street dressed in traditional yukata and sharing a box of what he assumes is mochi.

As they much into the chewy treats, he watches and listens as his daughter points out the bright colours she and her friend chose to fill into what was apparently initially a blank canvas for them to colour on. Her delight at having a pink and grey yukata, even if only in a drawing, prompting him to make a mental note about looking into the clothing and any upcoming festivals.

Osamu makes a point of saving the box, childlike scribbles over the simple sketch leaving a warm feeling in his chest and a slightly wider smile gracing his mouth.

The response he receives the Monday evening (from his penned message the Friday before) is enough to prompt a full smirk that, this time, doesn't go unnoticed by him. The woman showed an interesting sense of humour and gracious acceptance with the first cupcake note. Then, a sweet and thoughtful disposition with the drawing included as part of the soft treat for the girls Friday.

But now, Samu sees a challenging firmness in her reply to his easy brush off of her thanks, delicate lines yet again adorning the small card carefully tucked into a pretty red ribbon that's tied around and decorating another white, rectangular box.

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it ~ So please accept this gift without concern.

Sitting inside are four differently coloured, rounded treats that look familiar but he can't place off the top of his head. A quick search identifies the delicate confections as macarons, the colorful delights an absolute wonder as the airy crunch of the top and bottom shells simultaneously give way to a firm filling with the first bite, the sweet flavour almost dissolving on his tongue.

He and Zumi finish the box off in minutes, three of each flavour included to a total of four different flavours, so both he and his daughter each get seconds of their respective favourites.

The next morning, filled with anticipation at what new surprises you might include with the goods you send today, he's fully aware of the grin that stretches his face as he writes out a note of his own for you to receive later this evening.

The macarons were inspiring. Izumi and I definitely won't turn away any gifts you'd like to send our way. I wonder... what other surprises do you have up your sleeve? I sent a little something your way to inspire you too. - M. Osamu

The neatly written note returned, once again, on the back of the small rectangular card you'd last sent, brings a warm smile to your face. The various onigiri that came along with it, apparently with specific instructions communicated from Izumi to Reina that today's additional quantity is set aside for you specifically, stretches the amused curl of your lips into a delighted grin.

You split each of the four different types of rice balls with your daughter, listening to her input on the delicious food as she points out her order of most to least favourite. Although there's not a single one you wouldn't eat on any given day if given the choice, the food is simply divine.

Your note the following day is a compliment to the chef, with a cheeky inquiry as to what deities one must pray to in order to make food like that. His response is a swift rebuttal asking what cruel gods bless some with the skills to cook but others with the skills to bake, ironically echoing your own thoughts from the previous week.

So goes the back and forth for weeks, notes getting cuter, sassier, and more personal as jokes, challenges, and encouragements alike are enclosed among the lunches of two excited little girls, their own bond strengthening with this unique camaraderie between their parents, until you feel the peculiar sense that you know the man on the other end, without ever even having actually met him.

Then, one day, three weeks into the first exchange, you receive a note that makes your heart beat in your throat at the unspoken challenge which raises the stakes of the now familiar routine. It's a simple response to your unassuming request for the onigiri recipes you initially received as the first returned delight, a meal you and Reina have been craving since the first taste.

I can do one better and teach you. xxx-xxx-xxxx. - Osamu

There's no reason to be shy or hesitant, is there? After all, it's a kind offer that will only serve you and Reina well with your future attempts at her lunches. You can't count on Miya Osamu's kindness forever.

Fingers still shaking, you dial the number enclosed within and find the call picked up before the first ring even finishes.

"I wasn't sure ya'd actually call."

Oh, wow, that's a voice to melt hearts alright. You're still smiling as you immediately reply in beat, with the easy familiarity of your shared repartee over the last few weeks, "With an offer like that, how could I not?"

He's quiet for a second and you start to lose your smile, suddenly worrying that perhaps you've acted too familiarly with a man that's all but a stranger and offended him. But his next words, slowly expelled in a lazy but thoughtful drawl, have your heart beating fast for an entirely different reason, "I had a feeling ya'd sound as pretty as ya write."

Now you're the one that's silent but it's entirely because you're at a loss for words, this quietly charming man having stolen them right from the tip of your tongue.

A low chuckle breaks what you realized was actually somehow still a remarkably comfortable silence and then his delicious voice reaches you again, "I hope I didn't scare ya voice away. It'd be a shame now that I've only just heard it."

Okay so he's maybe much more of a flirt than the subtle hints you'd noticed over the notes, but then again, they were delivered through your daughters as messengers so it would be reasonable he would have toned it down. Then again, what kind of man flirts with a woman he's never met previously? He doesn't even know what you look like. Have you captured his interest solely through your mutual correspondence?

You almost snort, catching your thoughts and feeling like you're the main character to some historical romance. Maybe during a world war era. Mutual correspondence. Right. What are you even thinking? He's got you flustered already.

"Funny. I would never have imagined you would sound so pretty from the way you write." You're tempted to arch an eyebrow with your audible smirk but then you remember that it's not like he can see it.

"Ya think my voice is pretty, do ya?" His tone is full with soft satisfaction, "Maybe ya can tell me if it's better in person."

"And here I thought the offer on the table was for learning a delicious recipe."

You swear you hear the smile in his response, "Sounds like yer in either way."

"Sounds like I am." You concede in mock resignation but you're painfully aware that your words and following sigh sound more like a promise.

You and Reina find the charming storefront quite easily from Samu's instructions. It's finally the weekend, several days since your first call with him, and your handwritten notes have now upgraded into convenient, daily text messages.

He's definitely confident and teasing but not quite the overt flirt you briefly considered he might be from a few days ago. In fact, he's more calm and grounded, even if he can be a smooth talker, but you've quickly found that what came across as flirtatious was actually just him being honestly direct. Which is both exciting and flattering enough to make you nervous for this first real meeting today.

A soft chime sounds as you open the door to usher Reina through before following her in yourself. The first thing your eyes land on is a small girl running to your daughter like a heat seeking missile and the two collide in an adorably sweet hug, somehow understanding each other while seemingly talking simultaneously.

With a small smile on your face, you take a moment to survey your surroundings and find your bearings in this unfamiliar space. It's not an overly large area, focusing more on a cozy, comfortable atmosphere emphasized by the deliciously welcoming smell of various foods that make you feel right at home.

Your eyes run over the bar with stools lined against it before you do a double take, finally noticing the dark haired man that's leaning with his arms crossed against a door frame beyond it, watching as you examined his space.

He must be able to tell he's slightly startled you as an amused smile stretches his lips and he dips his head ever so slightly in greeting. "Welcome to Onigiri Miya."

"Thank you for inviting us, Miya-san." You bite your lip at your automatic formality, already certain what he's going to say next.

And he doesn't disappoint, eyebrow arching as he uncrosses his arms and, finally, steadily makes his way towards you, "I already told ya to call me Osamu. Or Samu."

Now you're smiling again because the situation is definitely out of the ordinary, the level of familiarity you feel with a man you're seeing for the first time can only be considered unusual. You take a moment to study him as he stops just before you, tall build with broad shoulders and a handsome face that looks like it belongs on a heartbreaker not a homemaker.

Your fingers itch to push back the locks of his hair peeking out from under his dark cap and falling over on side of his forehead, if only to have an excuse to run your hands through it. But that's definitely not appropriate no matter how comfortable you might already feel with this easygoing man.

"Right... Osamu, then. And of course, you can call me Y/n."

"Yer name and looks suit ya, just like yer voice and handwriting." He's got a small smile on his own face now and you're not sure if he's aware he basically just called you pretty. He doesn't really seem to do this on purpose, from what you've gathered.

You beam at him regardless and volley back, "Well, I can say the same for you too."

And for a brief second, that small smile splits into a quick grin that stutters the already erratic beat of your heart. Oh yes, this man is certifiably lethal in all the best ways.

"I'm happy to hear it. Now, let's sit ya down with the girls while I grab some things."

Izumi has already led Reina to a table by the window and Osamu gestures their way as he moves to lock the door behind where you came in and then moves off to the kitchen behind the bar again.

You notice with a little apprehension that the girls are sitting next to each other on one side of the booth still giddily talking together (although not over each other anymore) about friends and weekend plans and such, but you're not going to be the anxious oddball that separates them for seemingly no reason. Even if you're already sure of the overthinking you'll be doing at the thought of Samu sitting next to you in the booth.

He doesn't seem to think about it at all as he easily slides in, smoothly setting a plate and a tray with cups, glasses and a couple pitchers on the table just as you feel the left side of his body line up against your right. Okay, yeah, because this is totally normal for you. Not.

You hope neither he and especially not either of the kids can tell you're flustered, even as you feel the heat creep up your neck and flirt with your cheeks. Yup, normal day, normal day. Just a regular day with a new friend.

"Here ya go." You just hold yourself back from jumping when he hands you a cup from the tray and then leans over to pour what looks and smells like tea from one of the pitchers. If you're not going crazy, he's pressed even more against you for those long seconds, completely in your space even if it's not unwelcome.

He either knows exactly what he's doing or he's just one of those people that's never paid mind to polite social norms and rules of conduct that many prefer. While you're calming yourself down, he's already poured the girls juice from the second pitcher into their glasses and set out quarter plates in front of everyone.

You finally focus enough to take in the still steaming gyoza on the plate he'd placed down in the middle with confusion and ask, "I thought we would be making onigiri and eating it for lunch?"

"Of course, but I couldn't put ya to work on an empty stomach."

"Mhm." You give him a dubious look, you might have mentioned your early breakfast in one of your texts to him this morning, but you have a feeling that this is also an effort to make you and Reina feel comfortable in this space together instead of getting right into the cooking lessons planned for the day.

It's an incredibly thoughtful effort and that warm flush is threatening you again so you choose to tease him and deflect instead, "Somehow, I feel it's more about your empty stomach but okay, let's go with your version instead."

You lose the fight with the flush and flutters when he chuckles at your sassy retort, especially since you literally feel the vibrations melt from his body and into yours with the way he's still somewhat pressed into you. Does the man not have enough space in his own booth? Actually... you notice you can move closer to the window yourself since there's quite a bit of space on your side too but, then again, it would be a little obvious to shift now.

The girls pick up the fried dumplings by hand with happy exclamations as they bite right into theirs, you and Osamu following suit but not before placing another two on the plates in front of each of them and then splitting the remaining ones between you.

With a dip into the soy and vinegar sauce (chili excluded for the girls), you quickly bite into the first one and savour the sudden burst of flavour in your mouth. Oh wow, yes, this is exactly what your cooking is missing. This addictive, tasteful quality that makes you want multiple helpings of whatever's being served.

With a glance from the corner of your eye to the right, you meet Osamu's eyes studying your reaction and decide to ask the question on your mind, "You made these yourself right?"

"I did."

"Okay, they're hands down the best gyoza I've ever had." You compliment him genuinely before giving in to the urge to tease him yet again because the flutters are back, if they ever even left, and you can't have him knowing just how much he affects you, "But who ever heard of serving gyoza in an onigiri shop?"

He must catch the light, teasing tone because he just smirks and throws right back, "Well if they're as good as ya say, maybe I should expand the menu."

"Oh no, don't do that!" You laugh with wide eyes, "Then Reina and I will never find space when we try to come back here during regular hours! Actually, I'm sure you're already always packed, hm?"

"Some days and times less than others, but there will always be space for the two of ya whenever ya want to visit again."

Oh yeah, it's a losing battle, the flutters are a full on tsunami of feelings now. Just push it away and chill. But then he adds, "And I can teach ya this recipe too. Anytime there's something ya like or want to try, just let me know. I'm sure we can make an amazing cook outta ya yet."

Your mouth drops open followed by your blurted question, "Why are you helping me so much? I'm sure this is a lot of time and effort for you too."

You hear the girls' conversation pause as they pick up on some subtle change in either your body language or demeanour, but Osamu's calm eyes just meet your wide ones, his lips sliding into a soft smile, as he simply answers, "Because I like ya."

You feel like you're back in grade school because you want to ask if he means that he 'like' likes you or just... likes you. But there's no way you're going to ask that question, not only because it feels a bit asinine but because that's not a conversation to start in front of both of your daughters.

You look over to the girls who are watching with beaming smiles, maybe happy their parents are good friends just like the two of them, and you return their wide grins with a reassuring one of your own before looking back into steady grey eyes. "Well, I really appreciate your help. Thank you, Osamu."

"I'd say no thanks needed, but I've been down that road before." Another quick, heart-stopping grin graces his face, this one almost as roguish as his tone is playful. He's definitely referring to your initial correspondence when you made a firm point against his initial brush off, as if his actions in making extra lunch for your daughter to enjoy wasn't incredibly thoughtful and certainly out of his way.

"Well you certainly catch on quick. Let's just hope I can say the same." Your playful smile turns into a grimace at the thought of how difficult it might be to actually improve your skills. Maybe it's just a question of talent? Maybe you're just never going to be able to reproduce food like him.

But he glances over to catch your frown just in time and reassures, "I know what I'm doing. Soon enough, you will too. Just say you'll keep supplying me and Zumi with yer baking every once in a while when ya don't need us anymore."

You know he's probably joking with the last part but you hadn't planned on stopping. You love to share the goodies you bake with the people in your and Reina's life, it makes the two of you pretty happy so you're sure Izumi and Osamu will be able continue enjoying your baked goods to their heart's content.

"Izumi will definitely get her share of sweets and snacks every day." You send a smile her way when she hears you and bounces excitedly in her seat but then you force yourself to drop it and face Osamu with a challenging look instead, "But you... well, I guess we'll have to wait and if you're as good as you say and maybe then you can get some too."

He places a closed hand to his chest as if he's been struck, the girls laughing at his overdramatic reaction, but his widening smile gives him away. You look at each other for a suspended moment, with shared amusement but also the teasing heat of something else reflected in his achromatic eyes, which makes you certain he picked up on the unintended double entendre in your words.

"Sounds like a promise." Then with an arched eyebrow at the empty plates and cups in front of everyone, Samu asks, "So shall we get started?"

You agree, helping him clean up the table and he takes the opportunity to help you and Reina familiarize yourselves with the kitchen. The rest of the afternoon is spent in an equally easy cadence as he does indeed walk you through the steps of making his recipes, flavours included.

He starts with the simplest option, yaki onigiri, which is just fried rice shaped in a triangle or oval, and then demonstrates how to make and add a few of your and Reina's favourite fillings in to change and enhance the flavour. The girls enjoy making their own mini rice balls alongside the two of you and the time flies until you're all back at the table and having the onigiri you've just made for lunch.

You can't deny there's an improvement already but your little rice balls are still nowhere near the level of skill and flavour of Osamu's, even though he and the girls all assure you that you've done a great job. You accept their compliments with a smile and the determination to keep at it on your own time until you improve even further because Reina deserves better than even this.

By the time you finish eating, the girls are unsurprisingly tired out and choose to stay at the table to watch a Disney movie with Izumi's iPad. You can't help but smile in amusement while watching Osamu grab the thing from behind the bar, tapping away on the clunky looking device which is perfect for Izumi with a thick, pink rubber cover protecting it from grade-schooler level damage.

After the movie's been set up for the two worn out little munchkins, you and Osamu head back into the kitchen for him to show you how to make the gyoza and the next hour slips away with more teasing jokes, increasingly heated looks, and slightly bolder touches.

You can close your eyes and now know the feel of Osamu's hands on yours, demonstrating how to properly fold and pleat the wrappers. You can still feel the heat of his chest brush your back from when he leaned around you to pick up an empty bowl to place in the sink, and you're pondering on what feels like a heated brand on your hip where he lightly curved one hand to shift you over.

You can't deny your attraction to the man, a slow fall that you should have seen coming from the excitement of receiving his words every day until you were eagerly expecting the notes, to this first meeting where he's everything you expected from reading between his lines and even more.

Since the girls are pretty much full, you and Osamu clean off the new batch of gyoza between the both of you - him more than you, which you tease him about again. All the while, you're panicking about this new realization of your feelings, given that you're seriously crushing on a man who might only mean to help as a newfound friend and maybe you're the one reading too much into his interactions.

It's not until you've helped him clean up, collected the girls, and are watching him lock up the shop that you get some semblance of an answer.

"Thank you again Osamu. This was not only very instructive but Reina and I had a great time today."

He's holding Izumi's small hand in his, similar to Reina's in yours, and his other hand stretches up to rub at the back of his head, his arm bent at the elbow. When he speaks, it's not a direct response to your gratitude but a question instead, sounding somewhat unsure himself for the first time today, "How about next time we have a date that's more fun than instructive?"

Your jaw almost drops in surprise but you quickly collect yourself because he's still looking a little worried, maybe because he thinks he's overstepping by calling this a date or maybe because he's not sure you'll want another one even if you do accept that.

Your smile is quick to light up your face and, with a light squeeze from Reina's hand to yours accompanied by her and Izumi's giggles, you happily reply, "Just let me know when and where, and it's a date."

He grins again, the third time today your heart stops at what you're sure is usually a rarer sight since bodies aren't always dropping to the ground around him (that you've heard of). "I think I might already have something in mind."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, but let me look into it and get back to ya."

"Sounds like a promise."

With your final reply, a borrowed echo of his words to serve as a temporary goodbye, you and Reina split away from Izumi and Osamu. Heading for your car with once last look behind you, you're pleasantly unsurprised to find a flash of gunmetal grey also glancing back your way. Later that night, finished with your and Reina's joint skincare routine and having tucked her into bed, you find the expected message waiting for you.

A/N: Okay wow I had SO much fun with this one! I hope you all do too <3 It's not triple edited per usual so please do let me know if you catch any errors or issues. No promises but probably dropping Atsumu’s First Meeting next ;)

Taglist: @yatoatyourservice, @crayonwriting

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emonaculate · 3 years

Text

AOT Freshman v Senior Year headcanons (Eren, Armin, and Mikasa)

❥ AU: Highschool!AU

❥ Genre: Fluff

❥ Rating: Everyone can read

❥ Pairing: hinted at Eren x reader

❥ Warnings Include: Profanity, mentions of violence, manipulation, mention of weed, and slight angst

❥ Author Note: I'm making this an entire series for the main cast or my favorite characters from AOT

Eren Yeager

Freshman year

Extremely fucking loud for no reason

Runs to class and somehow always manages to be late

Tries to pay attention in class but due to his ADHD would always spaces tf out

Despite being loud, only talks to Mikasa and Armin

Smells like nothing but AXE body spray, its not even a bad smell, its just too much

That kid that takes P.E. TOO fucking serious

"Eren you know why you're in trouble right?"

"No."

"...You hit your classmate in the face with a ball."

"He could have dodged."

"Eren it was a basketball, you broke his nose and chipped his tooth."

"He shouldn't have gotten so close to me."

Im sorry but totally dresses like this

Constantly compared to his older brother.

"Yeager... Are you by any chance related to Zeke Yeager?"

"No way, your brother is THE Zeke Yeager?"

Makes a name for himself rather quickly

Listens to heavy rock/metal music

He loves My Chemical Romance and Three Day Grace.

Learned how to play the guitar just so he could play "Teenagers"

Forced Mikasa and Armin to also listen to the bands

They ended up all deciding on making a small little garage band; Miki on vocals and drums, Min on bass, and Eren as lead vocalist and electric guitar.

His style changed randomly but no one questioned it since his personality remained the same.

Senior year

180 personality

Completely mellowed tf out

Either he is in class on time or not showing up at all

Senioritis is strong within him

Works better when he is completely out of it

STONER

This mf always high as shit

Either you love him, hate him, or respect him there is no inbetween

MANBUN

Smart as hell but usually on the low

His music taste has changed a little

LOVES POLITICAL RAP

J.cole and Kendrick stan; it is not up for debate

His favorite songs are Neighbors by J.Cole and Alright by Kendrick

Listens to throwback RnB when high

Still godly at the guitar

Has a couple stick and poke tattoos; He has one behind his ear matching Min and Miki.

He has the sun, Armin has the ocean waves, Mikasa has the moon

PIERCINGS

A total of 8; 4 in his left and 2 in his right + the industrial

Has a tongue piercing

A two slices in his eyebrow but only got them as a dare

Most of them minus the industrial piercing was done at home because he has an abnormally high pain tolerance.

Dresses like this

Doesnt really play sports but is super good at soccer and basketball

He's actually good at most sports just refuses to join because why would he want to support a corrupted system??

Still more of a loner but has a rather nice friend group

Looks mean asf but is actually really nice

Goes the hardest for his friends

You fuck with them = you getting your shit rocked by him

100% the friend that hits you for forgetting to eat

Despite being hot as shit; never really has a girlfriend

Its only because hes oblivious or just not interested

Deathly scary when hes pissed

If you guys got beef; there is no talking

Its on sight bro

Be prepared to get beat the fuck up

A few things that makes him go from 0 to 100 is racism, mocking disabled people, and domestic violence

He's an activist

If you need help organizing a protest; he'll help and somehow manage to get people to come.

Basically a really good guy just hot headed as hell

Armin Arlert

Freshman Year

The kid who looked up those lame videos on how to survive highschool.

Panicked when it came to speaking in class

Stuttered like hell

AP CLASSES

He's way too advanced like could graduate early but refuses to so he can stay with his friends

Super sweet but extremely naive

People definitely took advantage of him.

"Hey Armin, my dog got in a car accident so I wasnt really focused in class, can you give me the homework answers?"

"Yeah sure its no problem."

Sends them a whole ass powerpoint on the entire lesson and teaches them better than the actual teacher.

Band nerd

Can play the Piano, Bass, and Trumpet

Listens to Mother Mother and Queen religiously

Only joined Eren's garage band after he agreed to watch Bohemian Rhapsody

Dresses like this

Moved in with Ren and Miki after he went through some shit with his family; he came out as bisexual after realizing he was attracted to one of his classmates.

Sometimes worries that Eren gets uncomfortable but relaxes after he remembers who Eren really is.

Wouldn't trade his friends for the world

Senior Year

His glow up took awhile because he didnt really feel the need to change

He was always rather cute; just shy and timid

VALEDICTORIAN

Slightly because he manipulated his runner up into become a burnout gifted kid lmao

Everyone has his Snapchat and Instagram so they can get help

Now he knows when people are using him and he still lets them; the only difference is you fuck with him and he can make you end up repeating the same grade.

Lets people copy his test and at the last minute pauses and erases all his answers before putting the correct ones.

No one has realized his plan.

His fashion sense changed a lot

Subconsciously tries to match Eren all the time

The only person that noticed was Mikasa; she thinks its cute

Is in love with Russian foreign exchange student, Annie.

He talks to her from time to time before gathering enough courage to ask her out

Doesnt realize how popular he is.

Oftentimes volunteers at the aquarium to study the ocean life as well as help out.

Helps plenty of organizations clean up the ocean.

A total of four piercings and the tattoo that matches his friends.

Two in his ears and nipple piercings.

It was a dare he sobbed through

Mikasa Ackerman

Freshman year

Basketcase

Follows Eren and Armin around

Super quiet

Doesn't really have much of a personality

She is cute though

Dresses like this

Like I said no real personality at all

Well except she was the girl who thought she was in a romance novel

Especially when Eren would get into a fight.

"Eren look at me... This isnt you."

"Mikasa move."

Most times it wouldnt work.

It was just cringy man...

Can play the violin, flute, piano, and cello

Only learned the drums so she could play with Eren and Armin

A secret pop stan

Loves Ariana Grande and Doja Cat

Thank god she manages to grow out of that yucky phase.

Senior Year

GOTH GF

Track, Gymnast, and female basketball player

She mellowed out as well and became her own person

Still heavily in love with Eren

Confessed to him during a karaoke session to the song Baby I by Ariana Grande; he didnt realize.

Sang her heart out and was a blushing mess but still got no where

Has deep down accepted that she may never be more than just his friend

Is okay with it and NOT toxic when he's crushing on someone else

Just wants him to be happy

Saw how he looked at some girl during a fundraiser to raise money for animal shelters and realized that he may never look at her like that.

Turned a guy down because Armin had a crush on him

The ultimate wing girl

Introduced Eren to her opponent after a track meet after realizing it was the girl from the fundraiser.

Dresses like this

Super sweet despite her look

However pick on her friends and you're fucked

CAN and WILL whoop your ass

The only person who can get Eren to not fight.

Pissed them both off at the same time and you're screwed

Has a total of three piercings

Her ears and nose

Loves her boys more than anything

Stays with Eren while her parents travel to help with natural disasters

Noticed that Armin's ideal type is Eren but never mentioned it because she knows Armin would overract

Very observant

Just wants the best for her friends even if she is the one who ends up happy

Eventually falls for the guy that asked her out junior year.

Still close to her boys because they come before anyone.

#eren yeager x black reader #armin arlert #mikasa ackerman #eren yeager #highschool headcanons #attack on titan #snk fanfiction

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minaslittleone · 3 years

Text

Fission & Fusion (Part 2)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: How did the refined and proper Wilhemina Venable end up working for two coked-up tech bros out of the back of a van?

An origin story of sorts, dedicated to the amazing @lucyintheskywithxanax who has developed such a beautiful and nuanced depiction of Mina. This was inspired by her incredible story "And I failed to climb the mountain".

Word count: ~2700

The hours after that were fuzzy. After storming out of her parents house with little more than the bare essentials and no intention of returning Wilhemina didn't really have much of a plan. She had never fantasized about running away as a child, she hadn't even been brave enough to rebel vicariously and yet here she was, with no plan and no where to go. And terrified.

But Wilhemina was nothing if not practical so she sequestered all of those doubts and anxieties down into the deepest corners of her brain to be dealt with later, she told herself. Really to be dealt with never.

Practically speaking, money was her first concern. She knew that her mother's threat to cut her off had not been idle, but she also hoped that her mother would continue to underestimate her long enough that she would be able to clear the remaining funds out of her account before her mother froze it. Her pride raged against the idea of taking the idea of taking the money religiously placed into her "allowance" once a month by her father, hating how spoiled that made her sound and wanting to be free of any lingering ties to her parents. She would have gladly traded every last dime for any other monthly ritual with her father, for anything with him really. But she was a casualty of her parents' failing marriage, the only thing that they hated more than each other was the idea of acknowledging that their marriage had long since fallen apart. Her father avoided the house like the plague, and her by extension, throwing himself deeper and deeper into his professional life to mask the failure of his personal one. And so their relationship had become almost completely transactional, her father attempting to atone for his absence by providing her with everything she could ever dream of, save for the one thing she truly wanted - his affection. But as much as she hated the money and everything it represented, she really wasn't left with much of a choice.

That was how she found herself standing in front of a bank teller at 1:30pm on a Wednesday afternoon, lying through her teeth and praying that her voice wasn't shaking as much as her hands. Exactly how she had got there she wasn't sure - a bus? Surely she hadn't walked this far - she was completely focused on getting what money she could and getting out.

The process was certainly made easier by the fact that she had been coming to this branch since her father had opened the account on her sixteenth birthday. And maybe for once in her life her twisted frame would be an asset - it was difficult to forget a girl her age with flaming red hair and a cane.

So she lied. She told the teller that she was using the money to put towards a car but that her parents were unfortunately too busy to accompany her. That part wasn't even really a lie, her parents were always too busy. Either way the teller didn't seem to see anything unusual about depositing the entire $5000 balance into Wilhemina's hand, before politely wishing her a pleasant day.

She had thought she would feel safer with the money in hand, feel like she had more control over the situation. In fact all it did was make her realise how vulnerable she was. How she would never be able to defend herself if someone decided they wanted to take it from her. Maybe her mother had been right, maybe she really was too broken and useless to survive on her own.

She could feel her heart racing. She had to find somewhere to stay. Find somewhere that she could get off the street. Maybe then she would feel safer. Maybe.

Except she didn't know how long she would need to make that $5000 last. She had no job and had effectively forfeited her degree the minute she walked out her parents' front door. Any future prospects she had were tied to their connections anyway. Oh god, what was she going to do? She had no experience and no qualifications, and any jobs that would have been open to her without those were made impossible by her twisted spine. She wouldn't have been able to stand for long enough to finish a shift as a waitress, let alone carry much whilst also maneuvering her cane.

So she would have to make the money last. At least until she managed to come up with a better plan. Which is how she found herself unpacking her meagre possessions into a battered shell of a room in a run down hotel that offered rooms by the hour. As she eased herself down onto the bed, finally allowing her back some respite after hours on her feet, she reasoned that this was the best choice for now. And she would think of something, this was only temporary.

But it hurt. The adrenaline from her triumphant exit earlier that morning was long gone and now she was left with the painful reality of what life on her own would look like. At the moment it consisted of a sea of mismatched floral patterned fabrics, a green melamine kitchenette and far too many questionable stains.

She felt like she was suffocating, that the battered walls with their pealing wallpaper were steadily encroaching on her, squeezing the last ounces of calm and confidence out of her by force. She had to get out, had to keep moving, had to keep busy lest the reality of her situation catch up to her and drown her in its melancholy.

She burst from the room, shaking fingers struggling clumsily against the lock. She had to get away, to be anywhere but here. Away from the stale smelling room with the pealing wallpaper. Away from the lumpy bed swathed in garish floral covers of questionable cleanliness. Away from the suffocating reminder of how alone she was.

It shouldn't have surprised her that she would end up back in the college library, it's where she spent most of her time any way, finding any excuse she could not to go home. It was quiet and it was safe. Between the warm, dim lighting and the earthy smell of the old wooden shelves and the books themselves Wilhemina finally began to calm. She could feel the tension to funnel out of her trembling fingers, feel heart finally stop racing and draw her first real breath in hours.

She didn't know how long she sat there, not really seeing or hearing the world around her, just being, adjusting. Letting her body and mind begin to come to terms with her situation. Start to reset her parameters and realise that she wasn't going home tonight, that there wasn't a home to go anymore. Perhaps there never had been, not in the ways that mattered.

She was drawn from her haze by the gentle but insistent whispering of her name that indicated that this wasn't the first time the owner had tried to rouse her. As her vision cleared she was met with the kind, if not slightly concerned countenance of her adviser, Professor Thompson.

"Is everything alright, Wilhemina?" She could only nod dumbly in response. "I missed you in class this morning" the older woman added. "I know you said had a specialist appointment and might be late, but I got worried when you never showed up. Did everything go ok?" Wilhemina couldn't find the words to answer, couldn't find a way to explain how her life had been pulled out from under her in the preceding few hours. Her mouth guppied in response, producing several sounds that could have been the start of ideas but nothing intelligible.

Professor Thompson's brow furrowed. Over the years that she had known Wilhemina Venable she had always been impressed by her tenacity. For all this young woman had endured, she had refused to let it define her. She was always the first present in class, sitting front and centre, attention never wavering, even on the days Professor Thompson could see the tell tale signs of pain breaking through her indifferent facade. The tension in her brow and jaw, the twitch of her lips and narrowing of her eyes at each spasm, the shifting in her seat in a desperate effort to find some level of comfort. There was a hardness, a determination in the eyes of that girl which said she refused to give up which was notably absent now, replaced by a glazed, foggy expression that made Professor Thompson's heart hurt.

"Wilhemina," she tried again, "would it be easier if we discussed this in my office?" The redhead's eyes rolled up to meet hers almost drunkenly, obviously still not entirely processing the world around her. She managed a small nod, vacant eyes focusing somewhere in the middle distance. "Here, let me take your bag" she offered, hands floating just beyond Wilhemina's shoulders as the redhead hoisted herself to her feet, swaying slightly as she found some semblance of equilibrium.

Professor Thompson couldn't help but bring a hand to gently cup Wilhemina's upper arm, causing the younger woman to finally meet her gaze. Oh and didn't it just break her heart, the pleading terrified desperation she found in those deep brown eyes. "Come on, dear" she coaxed, "this way."

Wilhemina felt herself start to come back into her own body as she sat in Professor Thompson's office, old worn leather chair beneath her and warm cup of sweetened tea pressed into her trembling hands.

Professor Thompson noticed the change as well. "Easy, dear" she cautioned, as Wilhemina's shaking hands tried to raise the warm mug to her lips. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes" Wilhemina managed to rasp.

Professor Thompson reached out her hand to rest on Wilhemina's knee, rubbing slow comforting circles. "Do you think you can me what happened? Was it something at your appointment? Do you need another surgery?"

"No" Wilhemina whispered, teeth worrying her bottom lip before lifting her eyes to the older woman, who's warm gaze encouraged her to continue. "The surgeon doesn't want to do anything, doesn't think it's necessary to do anything. My mother on the other hand is not satisfied and won't be until I look *normal*"

"I'm sure she just wants the best for you" the older woman tried.

"She wants me to stop being an embarrassment. She flat out told the surgeon she doesn't care about my pain, she only wants him to fix how hideous I look." It was happening again, Wilhemina realised, the years of repressed pain and frustration spewing out of her unbidden. "The surgeon stopped recommending procedures when I was eighteen because they weren't likely to help but my mother kept insisting because I looked so hideous she couldn't stand it. She put me through years of pain because I was so ugly and she was so ashamed of me." Her voiced cracked as the tears she had tried so hard contain broke free down her cheeks.

"She was trying to do it again" Wilhemina choked. "She was trying to convince him to operate again and I finally told her no."

"And how did she take that?" Professor Thompson asked, almost fearing the answer. Wilhemina let out a self-depricating laugh through her tears, rolling her eyes. "Wilhemina," she added urgently, gently squeezing her knee to get her attention, "she didn't hurt you, did she?"

Wilhemina stopped at that. "Not physically, no." A beat of understanding passed between the two women before Wilhemina continued. "She threw me out, cut me off, told me I was completely on my own unless I agree to have the surgery. Told me I can kiss my degree goodbye." The older woman gasped. "I told her she could have it, I was done with her controlling my life."

Professor Thompson reached out to take Wilhemina's hands, squeezing them in her own. "That was so incredibly brave." Wilhemina let out a wry chuckle "You don't think I'm completely mad?" Another warm squeeze of her hands. "Absolutely not. I think you are so strong."

Wilhemina raised her eyes again to meet those of her professor, searching them for the signs of a lie. Finding none she felt her chin begin to tremble as she fought against the tears.

She lost. The tears came bubbling out of her against her will. Tears for the years of pain she had endured, both physical and emotional, at her mother's hands. Tears for the little girl who spent years in pain trying to convince her parents that it wasn't all in her head. For her childhood that had been stolen from her. For the little girl alone in a hospital, who's parents were far too busy to visit, who was left to rely on nurses for comfort and support. For the twenty four year old woman who had just lost everything.

She curled in on herself as much as her twisted spine would allow, rocking rhythmically backwards and forwards, trying in vain to offer herself some comfort. She felt the chair next to her dip and then she was being cradled in her advisors arms - how embarassing. But try as she might she couldn't quiet the hysterical sobs.

Eventually pulled herself out of the older womans arms, trying to regain some level of dignity. Professor Thompson gave her hands one last squeeze as she let her go.

"We will find a solution to all of this" she assured "but for now all of that can wait. You need to eat and you need to sleep. You must be exhausted" Wilhemina nodded, still frantically pawing at her tear-stained cheeks. There was no point hiding anymore, not after her earlier display.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Professor Thompson asked. "You're welcome to my spare room if not"

"No it's fine" Wilhemina replied, glad to avoid imposing on her professor further. "I have a hotel room."

"Ok I'll drive you" Wilhemina tried valiantly to rebuff Professor Thompson's kindness, but the older woman would not be dissuaded. And once Wilhemina realised how dark it had gotten she was secretly grateful.

As the car came to a stop in front what currently passed for Wilhemina's lodgings, Professor Thompson took her hand once more. "After work tomorrow" she pressed "I am picking you up and you are having dinner with me. It will give us a chance to come up with a plan for what happens next. I refuse to see someone as smart and driven as you are, Wilhemina, be sabotaged by negligent parenting. We will figure this out."

Wilhemina couldn't even bring herself to try and rebuff such kindness, for how her heart ached for it. Instead all she could manage was a watery "okay" and tremulous smile. As she walked back to her room she felt lighter than she had all day, tension finally beginning to drain from her body like water trickling down her arms and plummeting from her fingertips.

Exhaustion quickly rose to fill vacancy making her limbs heavy and fingers clumsy. Almost there, she told herself as she struggled with foreign keychain, not much longer. Just inside the door and then you can rest. But try as she might her exhausted mind could not make sense of the lock nor could it co-ordinate her trembling fingers well enough to keep hold of the keys which fell limply to the concrete just beyond her door.

It was as if the universe was laughing at her, she thought, as she gingerly squatted down, bending her legs to compensate for her immobilised spine. After all the humiliation she had endured today she could not be allowed to rest without at least one more reminder of her inadequacy. So fucking useless, the voice in ear chided, so fucking stupid. Hurry up and pick up the god damn keys and open the door like a normal, functional human being. Can you manage that much at least?

And maybe she could have managed it had the hand she extended to reach for her keys not been firmly crushed into the concrete and pulled away from her by a steal-capped boot, upsetting her precarious equilibrium and sending her sprawling face first into the concrete.

"Now, what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?"

A/N: Ok, so number one - I'm sorry (ducks). I promise I won't hurt her too much. This part wasn't even in my original plan but then the angsty little plot demons took over and here we are. Number two - for those of you who are interested I wrote Professor Thompson with Prof. Stromwell (Holland's character from legally blonde) in mind because I think she is exactly the type of tough but caring person that baby Mina would be drawn to. But also because I'm dying to see Sarah and Holland work on a project together, so this was my own vicarious little head cannon.

#sarah paulson #wilhemina venable #lucyintheskywithxanax #mina #baby mina

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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty

Words: 3.1K

Warning(s): Explicit language, substance abuse, verbal abuse

Tag List: @unknownoblivion @edwardtriggerhandzz @haileynicoleseavey17 @cierrasixx19 @oskea93 @mgkobsessed @sharon6713 @itsametaphorbriansblog @miriampraez @allie-mcginn @xpoisonousrosesx @rebeccaphillips14 @nicholeh7 @lilmou5ie @tamedhearts @divaanya @6ixx6ixx @ratedrkohardychick91 @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @thanks2pete @abaldboi @liith-ium @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @ytwahsog @scarecrowmax @random-internet-user-4471 @solohqrry @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @cruecifymesixx @meetthesixxter @sublimeprincesswasteland @arianareirg @girlnight-terror

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My dad always used to tell me, "wisdom is being young enough to get away with doing something stupid, but still knowing better."

I never paid any attention to it because I didn't have any stupid decisions lined up at the age of eight. Or thirteen. Or sixteen...I guess because I never experienced the art of bad decision making and their damnable consequences, all of that pent up stupidity broke loose when I was seventeen and didn't slow down until I was in my thirties.

Young enough to get away with doing something stupid…

"What the hell are you thinking, Duff?" His older brother yells.

I'm listening with my ear pressed to the door, waiting in the hallway outside of Duff's apartment...trying not to be too mortifiedly embarrassed.

"Matt, it's—"

"—You're fooling around with a married woman, Duff, I know exactly what it is!" He yells.

"They're getting divorced, Matt, alright? It's not like I'm-I'm just sleeping with her for the hell of it!"

"She's getting out of a six year relationship and getting a divorce at twenty-three, Duff, don't you fucking think the reasonable thing for you to do is back off and let her actually process that before having sex with her?!"

"It's not like I'm taking advantage of her! I'm not! She loves me—"

"—She's lost! She's vulnerable! She's confused! She'd fall in love with any bone head that was a good guy right now!" He shouts at him. "What are you thinking, Duff? I mean, honestly, what the hell are you fucking thinking?"

"I-I don't know!"

"What the fuck happens if the media gets ahold of this? If mom finds out that her son is getting hot n' heavy in cars in dark parking lots with a married girl!"

It's quiet for a second.

"I would explain that they're getting divorced, and—"

"—Bullshit. You know what she'd say? 'Married is married until divorce is finalized'." He states.

"I think mom would be pretty understanding, Matt. I don't think she'd judge me like you are or try to talk me out of it."

"You sound like dad right now, you know that? Just fucking like him." He cuts. "And it's bullshit because I know you aren't anything like dad which is why I'm so stumped right now."

"It's not that big of a deal." Duff argues.

"Has she filed yet?" Matt asks next, not skipping a beat.

"W-What?"

"Has he filed yet? Have they filed yet?"

"I don't know—it's not my fucking business."

"So you're just sleeping with her and you don't even know if they're even splitting up at this point? Of course not because she probably doesn't even know what she wants!"

"She told me she's gonna divorce him." Duff tells him, certainty in his tone.

"Well, actions speak a hell of a lot louder than words, don't they?" Matt fires at him.

...but still knowing better.

The door opens quickly and I pretend I wasn't listening, taking a few steps back as Matt storms out, giving me a second glance before walking down the hallway to the stairs.

I peek into the apartment to see Duff pacing, not paying any attention to me still being out here.

I take a breath before heading after him.

"Matt," I say when I get to the parking lot as he goes to his car, "wait."

"You don't owe me an explanation about it, sweetheart, it's between me and my brother." He tells me calmly, getting into his car.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I ask him, catching my breath, before he can close the door.

He looks at me for a second.

"Do you? Or a wife or a boyfriend or something?"

"I have a girlfriend." He tells me.

"How long have you been with your girlfriend?"

"Like, almost a year, now." He replies, not seeing the point of telling me this.

"I bet you're really good to your girlfriend, Matt." I say, and he slowly catches on, sighing a little.

"I try to be."

"Nikki wasn't good to me. For years. While he was killing himself with drugs, he was killing me with how he treated me and how he acted and when you really love somebody you sit and make excuses for them to make however they're killing you seem justified, and it's not. It never is." I explain, a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. "And you don't realize it until one day you're watching a woman you loved and trusted tell the world she's been having an affair with your husband. And then those rose lenses shatter and it's clear. You've spent years of your life giving everything to someone who would probably trade you for an ounce of smack if he ran out." I sniffle. "I really loved him, and you're right, I do still love him. I do. But I also know I'd rather die than willingly throw myself back into that hell. I haven't filed yet, but I am going to when he gets back from Japan. And I do love Duff, and he's a very, very good man. I don't know the situation with you guys' father and it's not my business, but whoever and whatever your dad is...your brother is the farthest thing from it. And I know you are, too, just from the way Duff's always spoke of you and your siblings. I'm sorry for the trouble, and I know you're just trying to look out for him, but you need to be proud of him. Not for what you saw earlier, but just for the fact he's a really great person in a city filled with selfish pricks. You need to be proud of him, and he needs to hear that you're proud of him."

He lets out another breath, processing what I'm saying, nodding again.

"Have a good night." He mumbles to me, shutting the door, and I let out a breath and head back upstairs, seeing Duff stopped pacing and eventually just plopped onto the couch.

He looks at me when I come back in, his eyes sad, a solemn look on his face.

"I'm sorry if you heard any of that." He says to me and I sit down on the couch beside him.

"It's okay. He's just trying to look out for you, you know?"

"I know but he doesn't even know the half of it." He sighs. "And I'm not acting like my dad because if I were I'd be sleeping with anything in a skirt and leaving my wife to deal with my eight kids.

He tells me lowly, hurt in his voice.

I try to find the humor in it, nudging his side.

"You have a wife and eight kids?" I ask, smiling a little and he looks at me, his lips tugging at the corners.

"No," his lips crack the smallest of smiles for a moment, "but even if I did I wouldn't treat them like shit." He adds.

My hand comes up to discreetly brush against my stomach.

"Your brother just wants the best for you." I tell him.

"Who cares? It's not his or anybody else's business." He replies, leaning back, rubbing his forehead.

"I love you." I offer, hoping the words make him relax a little.

He huffs out a breath, finally looking at me, his hand grabbing mine, pressing it to his lips.

I did love him, just not the way I thought I did. I mean, when I was in love with Nikki, it was evident to everybody. I looked at him like I worshipped the ground he walked on—because I nearly did. With Duff, people had to ask me whether I really loved him or not. I always thought it was because we were moving so fast that it seemed abnormal, but in photos when Duff and I were together it was obvious he and I had no fucking clue what we were doing. We were happy with each other, and loved each other, but it was like we both subconsciously knew we weren't going to workout. At least we eventually accepted it.

I could've divorced Nikki, eventually married Duff, anyway, and made the same bizarre decision that Tansy and Axl made to divorce twice before finally getting married a third time, years later, when their shit was together—because even if Duff and I did get married, we wouldn't have made it through the early 90s.

A couple mornings later, I'm going back to my house since the coast is clear from Nikki since he left for Japan.

Checking the mail, I furrow my brows as I'm sorting through the bills, randomly seeing an envelope with my name on it.

I take the mail inside and open my letter.

"What the hell?" I mumble, looking at a couple hundred dollar bills.

Then it hits me.

"Hello?" Karen's voice on the other end of the phone, chipper as ever.

"Why the hell am I getting sketchy money from Elektra?" I ask.

"It's from 'Wild Side', Viv." She explains. "Because Nikki credited you as one of the writers, remember? They couldn't write you a check because it's under the table." She adds.

"Under the table?"

"To avoid—"

"—Well, I don't want it." I state.

"Viv, you're getting a divorce. I'd keep every dime I could, honestly." She advises.

"Karen, that's no…" I trail off, my mind running a mile a minute, piecing it together. "What time is it in Japan?"

"Uhm, like, 2:00a.m. maybe?"

"Where are they staying?"

"Vivian—"

"—I need to talk to Doc. Where are they staying?"

I didn't want to talk to Doc. Don't ask me how I managed to harass my estranged husband from 16 time zones away, but, I did.

"You knew you were gonna divorce me, you piece of shit, that's why you credited me so I'd get money to cover divorce court!" I accuse viciously.

"I don't fuckin' know what you've been smoking, Vivian, but you sound insane right now!" He fires back.

"What I've been smoking? What the fuck have you been smoking, Nikki?! Huh?!"

"Have you been sleeping, Vivian?! You're being fucking psychotic!"

"I'll get on a flight and show you fucking psychotic, asshole, you set me up and then left the fucking country!"

"I credited you as a joke—I didn't think they'd actually take it serious and send you part of the royalties!"

"Bullshit! You and Vanity planned for her to tell everybody about your bullshit with each other, knowing I'd leave you and file for divorce so you could be together!"

"If I was that fucking mean, Vivian, I wouldn't have credited you so you wouldn't have gotten paid shit, you crazy bitch!" He insists. "And take your goddamn medication!"

He hangs up and I roll my jaw before throwing the phone.

I could've killed him had I felt like flying to Japan.

"Then he tells me I'm being psychotic!" I vent to Izzy over the sound of the vacuum.

"Well, were you?!" He asks me and I cut the vacuum off.

"No, I wasn't. I just called him out on his bullshit because he loves to think I'm stupid."

"What exactly did you say to him?"

"That he credited me so I'd get money, that I'd probably put toward paying for a divorce."

"That's not too bad." He furrows his brows a little.

"Exactly. Not to mention the fact I know he's still seeing Vanity and the whole plan was to tell the world they were engaged, knowing I'd leave him, so they could finally publicly be together."

He looks at me funny, before asking, "d-did you tell him that?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, you lost me, Viv."

"What?"

"That's complete bullshit." He states.

"How?"

"How? Viv, the man is on a horse-sized dose of heroin on a daily basis—and the crack he would smoke with Vanity—do you think either of them had the energy or mental compacity to conduct a plan like that?"

"They had the energy to fuck each other, so, my perception of how much they were able to do under the influence has no limits at this point." I argue.

"I think pregnancy has you cuckoo for cocoa puffs." He mumbles.

"Izzy, I'm being serious." I hiss.

"I am, too, Viv." He tells me. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be a complete asshole, but I just don't see Nikki high as a fucking kite coming up with this elaborate plan to leave you so he can be with his side piece while simultaneously deciding he wants you to be financially stable enough to withstand a divorce. He's a mean fucker. If he wanted to leave you, he would tell you to fuck off and file the same day without giving a flat fuck if you could afford it or not." He says. "And he's not seeing Vanity. There's no way she'd keep her mouth shut if they were still together."

"She managed to keep her mouth shut about it for over a year." I grumble.

"Yeah, because she was probably hoping he'd leave you for her."

I stop what I'm doing and look at him.

"Do you think he would've if she didn't tell everybody about it?" I ask next.

"I don't know, Viv." He answers honestly.

"Would you?"

He glances at me, serious for a moment, before the hint of a smile tugs at his lips.

"Never in a million years." He says and I smile a little. "Would you leave me for Duff?"

I pretend to think for a second.

"Depends on who's better in bed." I reply with the response I expected from him and he just blinks at me.

"Fuck you." He says and I laugh, eventually getting quiet, really thinking about what I said the last time we spoke.

"I'm not gonna do that to Duff." I say to him and he just looks off for a second.

"What made you change your mind?"

"He really loves me, Izzy."

"Yeah, he does." He shifts on his feet.

"Do you think...like, if him and me stay together…" I don't have to finish it, he already knows where I'm going.

"I think it'll be great for the first several months because it always is." Izzy replies. "But once the new wears off and things get more clear…"

"...Yeah."

NIKKI

"Jesus fucking Christ."

I beat the phone against the wall so the crazy bitch can't call here again.

"Two o'clock in the morning and she's making a long distance call just to gnaw my balls over something I didn't even fucking do? And bringing Vanity back up? What the fuck's her problem?

So, she got money for her credit, oh well. Plenty of people wouldn't necessarily mind seeing a couple hundred dollars for them in their mailbox but of course her ungrateful ass can't even be thankful for it." I hiss to myself pacing my room. "Cunt." I add, grabbing my bottle of wine from the TV stand, taking a big swig of it.

"Fuck her." I state next. "Fuck her. Fuck her. Fuck her...fuck," I take my wedding band off and throw it at hard at I can at the mirror in the corner of the room, on the wall, "her!" I yell when it makes impact, taking a step back, and another, falling flat on my ass.

I don't have the energy to get up, laying on my back and staring at the ceiling.

Just like my dad.

Just like my mom.

She just fucking left me...and I made her.

"Fuck her." I refuse to admit aloud it's my fault because it's not.

Sure, I fucked Vanity, I cheated on her first, but that doesn't give her the excuse to do the same to me.

"Fuck her." I repeat again.

I kept trying to convince myself I hated her. The truth was I hated myself, and was just trying to get that frustration out by turning on her.

It was easy to do when I imagined her under Duff while I was across the world, suffering, telling myself repeatedly she didn't give a shit about me.

She was probably thinking of me under a random groupie the entire time I was gone, and I don't blame her. I stayed under random groupies any other time, so why would Japan be any different? Especially after she and I were separated and had no obligations to each other.

I didn't have sex in Japan, honestly. I couldn't. I was too fucked up. I would try to, but it just wouldn't go over too well. My body was give out from abuse, my hands were scabbed from picking, my skin ate up with track marks, my face was sallow.

Fans would tell me they were worried I had the flu and I'd laugh it off and promise I was okay, then go to my room and stay locked in there until I absolutely had to leave.

I was on smack, constantly, to the point I wasn't even high but just shooting smack as maintenance, which served as a good excuse when a big magazine reporter came to Japan to talk to me and the guys about the tour and when the topic of Vanity came up…

I try to keep from rolling my jaw as the loser starts his question cautiously, testing the waters to see if I'm going to cut him off and tell him to ask another question or fuck off, or if I'm okay with it.

I remember Vivian's bullshit idea about me and Vanity wanting her to find out about the affair so she'd leave and we could be together.

Why the fuck would I go through that much shit just to be with someone like Vanity?

Leaving Vivian to be with Vanity is like leaving the frying pan to hop into the fire dick-first.

With this in mind as, "so, who is she to you?" finally leaves his mouth in reference to Vanity, pen in hand, ready to jot my answer and spread it around America the second it leave my lips, I pretend to think for a moment, and finally reply, "she was my fiancée."

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug

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getitinbusan · 5 years

Text

Prudential Centre Saturday:

I Fucked Jungkook!

I was going through my Journal and found this gem of a memory! Posting on Tumblr so you can all be jealous.

September 29 2018

The tickets we had were P2s left stage section 18 row 5, not bad but if I'm going to go out I'm going to go big. I told Grace that I think we could do better, I still owed her a belated birthday present so I told her I'd get us upgrades. When we got to Prudential Center I looked for a dirt bag scalper and traded our tickets and $200 for floors.

Once we got in, because it was general admission the front was already packed. So… because I always need to have the best, I walked up the aisle to the front and chose the most desperate looking security I could flirt with.

The idiot really thought I was into him, which backfired because he just wanted to power trip and keep us there talking to him. Luckily one of the BTS crew was listening in and he came over to the rail to talk to us. I told him I'd do whatever I needed to do to get the best seats. He opened the gate and let us in to the side section reserved for special guests, explaining that this is where the guys would "pick from." So… cool, just flirting got us great seats and the potential to fuck one of the members.

Not going to lie, the concert was great. Even though I would have gladly taken any of them, I found myself watching Jungkook all night. Maybe because I was fixated on him, he noticed? I swear he kept looking over, flirting with me.

They were doing their endingments when the same security guard who let us in came over. He pulled me to the side and told me that Jungkook wanted to meet me and if it was going to happen, I'd have to leave now. So.. at this point I basically had to choose between Grace and fucking Kookie??

Luckily I have a pretty cool friend and she insisted that I take the opportunity. As security is leading me away, I look up and he licks his lips and frickin grins at me and nods. Holy Shit it was so hot.

He gave me a key card and a pass and told me to make myself comfortable and just wait. I had to show hotel security my "special pass" to get up to the private level and it just struck me that this was a pretty formulated plan. How many girls do these guys fuck on a regular basis that there is a solid plan like this in place? I mean, I don't really care, it just felt good to be in the running.

When I got off the elevator the staff member waiting explained that I'd need to sign an NDA before they could let me in. So, sure, why not, who'd believe me anyways?

Signed, sealed and delivered to room 913 I wasn't sure what to do with myself. Should I be naked? What's the protocol for groupie sex? There really wasn't anything to do but wait so I freshened up in the bathroom and played on my phone. There wasn't anything personal in the room but there was a locked adjoining door, which most likely led to his real room.

There were condoms and lube in the drawer next to the Bible. Can you imagine being the staff member in charge of stocking condoms in the boys rooms? What a great fucking job description for a resume.

He arrived a few minutes before 10, casually entering and grabbing a water bottle he explained that we were going to get in the shower together. He was sweaty and he had to make sure I was clean before, and I quote, "eat your fucking pussy for dinner."

He walked into the bathroom and took his clothes off and threw them in a pile on the floor. I really don't know when he went from cute kid to fucking man, but he IS all man. His whole body is FIT and his cock is PERFECTION, only slightly embarrassing that he laughed at me staring at him. He got in the shower and asked me if I was coming, because I'm me, I had to say not yet but I hope to be soon. He liked that.

When I got in behind him he praised my body, told me I had great tits and asked me to wash them so he could suck them later. Telling me to relax, we helped each other lather up, you bet I fucking soaped up my hand and pumped his shaft.

Once the water rinsed him off I couldn't resist flicking his tiny nipple's with my tongue, giving them little bites until he moaned. His fucking abs were hard and beautiful and I had to trace them with my tongue. He was really hard at this point so I got on my knees and sucked him with everything I had. I think I did good? At one point he had to grab the wall to keep himself steady and he moaned, a lot.

You know how some guys warn you...like, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum? He's not that guy, he shot right down my throat and it was a LOT of cum. I didn't want to be the girl who fucking spits so I took it all. Sorry, swallowing cum is fucking gross no matter who it comes out of.

Anyway, he grabbed my hand to help me up and kissed me, like really kissed me. Hand in hair, passionate, tongue kiss kissed me. I'm not delusional but his lips made it feel like he really liked me.

He was noisy and greedy and he told me he wanted me to cum on his fingers first, his face second and his dick third. So.. after saying that I fucking came, on the spot.

He wrapped his free arm around me so I wouldn't fall while my body was doing that horribly unattractive orgasm spasm. He pulled his fingers out of me and asked if I'd ever tasted myself before. I said no because...do people just do that?? He sucked one of his fingers off and held the other up for me so yeah, I guess I know now.

He reached down and turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. No towels, soaking wet, he led me to the bed and told me to lay down. I told him the sheets would get wet and his response was that if the sheets didn't end up wet anyway we were fucking doing it wrong. So fuck it, it's his bed right.

His tongue was soft and relaxed and he literally had a make out session with my other lips. You know when you were young and just started to discover the concept of sex, you spent a lot of time making out and it's just dreamy and you float away in bliss at how soft and nice it feels? That, but better.

He took his time and was really really good at it. When I started to moan he switched gears and went full throttle with clit sucking and pumping his fingers in me again. Mission two: Making me cum on his face, achieved.

He picked up his phone and started playing some music, really good songs that I'm sure were on a playlist titled songs to fuck too. Standing back at the edge of the bed he pumped himself again then reached into the nightstand drawer.

Pulling out some lube he held his cock out in front of him and dripped a line straight down the length. He clicked it closed with one hand and threw it back on the nighstand and began rubbing himself until he was coated.

He moved on top of me flinging my legs open again and pushed himself in. The stretch was so good, I'd take width over length any day but luckily he had both. God, he was wet from the lube, I was wet from… everything, it felt amazing.

He did that romantic thing where he pushed the hair back out of my face and looked me in the eyes and I wanted to fucking die right there. He told me I felt so good and he was going to go slow so it lasted longer, was that alright? No, nope, no fucking way Jungkook hurry up and get off me so I can leave. Pretty sure I just moaned out a yes please.

He's the kind of guy that likes to kiss while he fucks which makes everything feel 100 times more pleasurable. He asked me to roll over and when I did he looped his arm under my waist and pulled me up so I was on my hands and knees, ughhh his arm muscles. He quickly pushed himself back in and the moan he let out was better than any song I've ever heard him sing.

He was hot and sweaty and his pace was quicker but not hard or rough. He pulled my hair with one hand and grabbed my boob with the other. He HIT so deep and the steady stroke made me cum so hard. He did the wrap and hold again holding me still and telling me not to move, he wasn't ready to cum yet and could I take more?

The man fucks like an insatiable beast and I would be an idiot to say no, so I didn't. He wiggled his eyebrows at me and grabbed a condom from the box, "Safety first!" What a fucking boyscout. Tearing one open with his teeth he rolled it down over his cock, did I mention they were magnum?

He told me he wanted me to ride him so he could watch my tits bounce. I climbed on top of him and sank down as deep as I could go. He closed his eyes while I sat on his cock and clenched around him. BTW, he's the main vocalist for a reason, the moans and noises he made were beautiful and my pussy was drenched listening to him.

I bounced on his cock for a solid 10 minutes before he pulled me down and started kissing me. I made sure to rub my tits across his nipples while I ground him into me and he was whining about how good it felt when I came, AGAIN. He held me tight against him and bucked his hips up hard into me until he came with such force I could feel it fill the rubber.

I wish there was more, a happier ending where he fell in love with me and asked me to join the tour but that was it.

We lay there for a few minutes until he told me had an early day tomorrow and staff would make sure I got home. He asked for my number, I'm sure as a courtesy, before he kissed me goodbye, who knows...maybe… Anyway, best concert I've ever been to.

#bts smut #bts jungkook smut #jungkook smut #guk #kookie #jeon jeong guk #jeon jungkook #bts #confessions of a groupie #jk #bts jk #LYSY tour #bts tour #bts concert #junkook #relax its a fic #lysy Prudential center

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brycelahelalover · 4 years

Text

Relightning the spark

Pairing: Bryce × f!MC( Tesse Sterling )

Author's note: Hello!! I'm back witn another fanfic, though this one is going to be special to me. If you want to know why, stick around to the VERY end to know. Enjoy.

Warning: Angst.

Part 2 Part 3

The past

"... and Cinderella and Prince charming lived a happy life together. The end." Tesse concluded, closing the book.

"That story is.. lame." Snarked Keiki, rolling her eyes.

"But you chose it..." Said Bryce.

"Yeah, in hopes that it might be less lamer than the movie. But jokes on me, it was worse.. I don't know why mom insists on buying me this kind of books. I'm really not interested in reading stories about a Prince swiping the poor women off her feet." Responded Keiki while rolling her eyes again.

"You're a six years old girl." Said Bryce.

"Your point being?" Asked Keiki while arching her brow.

"You should like this kind of stories. About the princes and princesses and whatnot." Said Bryce like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"She SHOULDN'T like anything. And I agree with her. All Disney princesses stories are sexist. They all represent the girl as this fragile creature that needs the help of the man to get out of her miserable life." Added his girlfriend.

"See? Tesse gets it." Said Keiki while giving her brother a pointed look.

They continued bantering over which one of the Disney movies is less sexist when they heard a loud bang followed by a scream.

"Is that your mom?!" Tesse asked Bryce frantically.

"Yeah.. Tesse, Keiki, you two should stay here and lock the door after i leave." He said while looking in the door's direction.

"What? No, I'm coming with you." Replied Tesse, following him up from the foot of Keiki's bed.

"Tesse.."

"Bryce, no. I'm coming with you. End of story."

"You're a real pain sometimes, but fine... Keiki, you stay here. Quiet. We'll come back as soon as we can, alright?" Said Bryce.

"Okay." Responded Keiki, looking scared.

Bryce kissed his sister's forehead and then went and opened the door slightly, checking the hallway. Tesse followed him but not before giving the little girl a tight hug.

"You're going to be alright, okay?" She told her before her and Bryce left the room.

Bryce and Tesse walked the rest of the hallway quietly, as to not alert the intruder. But what they saw upon making it to the staircase was still up to debate, whether be it better than a burglar or not.

The grand hall was filled with armed police men. All of whom surrounding Akoni Lahela. Bryce's father.

"What's going on?" Said Akoni while one of the police officers is putting handcuffs on him, sounding enraged. But if you strain a little bit, you could hear the panic in his voice.

"Akoni Lahela, you are under arrest for charges of insider trading." Said the oldest looking officer, giving off an air of authority.

"WHAT?" Said everyone at the same time.

"There must be a mistake.." Said Akoni, looking around frantically as if searching for an escape.

"Save the act, Lahela. I'm not interested in hearing whatever story you're going to come up with." Said the officer, sounding even more agitated than before.

Then he turned to Bryce's mother, Rosalind, and addressed her.

"Mrs. Lahela, your presence is requested at the police station tomorrow."

"I didn't do anything." Rosalind said.

"That's still up for debate. Now.." The officer said before mentioning to the one holding Akoni to follow him.

Bryce ran down the stairs, stopping before the older policeman.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry but there has to be a mistake.. he.. we.. how?"

The officer laid a hand on Bryce's shoulder, speaking more softly.

"Son, your father DID that."

He patted the teenager's shoulder before turning to his father.

"Come on, off we go."

"I want to call my lawyer." Said Akoni through gritted teeth.

"Don't worry, Lahela. You'll get your call. Though not before you're put in a cell." He replied while leading the way out of the door.

Soon, their voices were replaced by the roaring engine of the retreating police cars and the grand hall became empty expect for Tesse, Bryce and his mother.

"Mom? What were they talking about?" Asked Bryce.

"Why are you asking me? I know nothing about that. Now.." Rosalind said before turning to Tesse.

"You're still here? Don't you have a home to go back to?" She added, turning up her nose to the girl.

"Don't you talk to her like that!" Said Bryce, glaring daggers at his mother.

"Bryce, it doesn't matter.." Said Tesse.

Indeed it didn't, since Rosalind was already marching up the stairs, looking like.. well, like someone whose husband didn't get arrested just a few minutes ago.

Tesse squeezed Bryce's hand, drawing his attention back to her.

"It's okay, and I should go home anyway."

"You can stay if you want to.." Said Bryce, drawing her to his arms.

"Nah, I really should go. Unless I want MY mom to rip me a new one." She said, hugging him back.

"Alright, I'll take you back, we should check on Keiki first though."

30 minutes later, they were standing in front of Tesse's house. They both got off the motorcycle and started walking towards the door in silence, holding hands. Upon making it there, Tesse stopped and then turned to her boyfriend.

"Do you want to come in and talk about.. earlier? I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind."

"Nah, I'd rather sleep it off."

"You sure?"

"Yup."

"I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, I'll come pick you up like usual."

He said before bringing her lips to his in a sweet kiss after which Bryce turned and marched back to his bike. Tesse watched his retreating back before going inside.

The next day, upon setting their feet down into the school grounds, the stares and dirty looks started. It's like everyone decided that they were the most important people in the planet. True, Bryce and Tesse were among the "popular kids" but they weren't popular enough to claim this much attention. And Bryce knows what changed that.

"Everyone is looking at us." Said Tesse, looking between all her fellow students that are surrounding them.

"Of course they are." Replied her boyfriend.

"What do you mean?"

"You really need to start watching some news."

At her shrug, Bryce continued.

"The news of my father's arrest and the reason why got aired this morning. Everyone probably saw the headlines."

"Oh my god, Bryce. Are you okay?"

"As well as you'd expect."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nah, plus the bell just rang so we should hurry up."

Tesse cast a worried glance toward her boyfriend before they made their way towards class amongst all the whispers and dirty looks and pointed fingers which lasted the whole day and seemed to intensify with every new one. But what bothred Bryce the most were the comments Tesse was receiving from her supposed friends and practically every other person in school. He didn't care that much about the comments he was receiving, or didn't care as much as he can, since he felt a responsibility for what his father did. He couldn't say anything, especially to the kids who claimed that his father's deeds ruined their lives. But to have Tesse on the receiving end of that kind of treatment as well, that wasn't fair to her.

One of the times Bryce was present when few of the remarks were thrown at her was the Monday leading to prom. The two girls were pretending to be whispering behind their hands even though their voices could be heard clearly from Bryce and Tesse's spot just a few feet away.

"Isn't she planning to break up with him?" The first girl asked.

"Why would she?" Replied the second girl with a question of her own.

"His dad is a criminal."

"She's probably a part of what they did."

Bryce couldn't hold it in anymore. He turned to the girls, giving each of them a glare that could melt steel.

"Oh for goodness sake, would you two cut this rubbish.."

He could feel Tesse's grip in his elbow, trying to get his attention.

"Bryce, it's fine.."

"What? No, Tesse. It's not fine. Did you hear what they were saying about you?"

"Well, that's rich coming from the guy who refuses to speak up about himself."

"That's different."

"No, it's not." She said before sliding her backpack on her shoulder and making her way toward her next class.

And from there on out, Bryce tried to be with her as much as he can, even though Tesse wouldn't let him speak for her, not even once to the comments that were getting even harsher by the day.

It was the night before prom when he decided what he should do.

"Wanna go to our spot?"

Bryce sent the text that was answered a few minutes later.

"Sure."

"I'll come pick you up."

A few minutes later, Bryce was driving his bike to Tesse's house. And then they were making their way to their "spot" on companionable silence.

It was a cliff that overlooked Maui. They found it on their third date sophomore year. It wasn't that far from Tesse's home. Upon making it there, Bryce parked his motorcycle so that they can lean on it while looking at the view in front of them.

After a few beats, Tesse turned to him with a smile on her face.

"So, you ready for tomorrow?" She asked.

"About that.." He said while running his hand through his shoulder long hair.

"Yeah?"

"Tesse.. I don't think I can do this anymore." He whispered, barely keeping his tears at bay.

"What?" She said in a quiet voice.

"I think we should call it quits." Replied Bryce while looking at anything but her.

"Bryce.. are you joking?" Tesse said in a voice that betrayed the fact that she was trying to hold in her sobs as well.

"No."

"Why? Three years, Bryce. What could've made you do this now." She said, the tears having already escaped.

"Tesse, I'm not the person for you."

"And how do you know that?"

"Tesse, my dad is a criminal."

"I'm aware. And you're telling me that why? Bryce, I'm dating you, not your dad."

"Yeah. But as long as we're going to be together, you're going to be hurt from what people are going to say and your name is going to be dragged through the mud alongside mine. And you don't deserve that, Tesse. You deserve only the best." Bryce said, clutching her upper arms.

"But If the best isn't you, i dont want it." Said Tesse through sobs.

"Believe me, you don't to be with me right now." Said Bryce before kissing her forehead.

"Bryce, no.." Said Tesse, clutching his shirt in her fists.

Bryce extracted himself from her grasp before he climbed his bike and drove off into the distance. Leaving a broken heart in his dust while trying to convince himself that he did the right thing.

A/N: Hi, again. So this fanfic is going to have 2 parts, maybe more, I don't know. So as I said earlier, this fanfic is special to me because it's a collab between me and @tyrilsnightbloom who is going to be writing the next part.

P.S: want to be tagged? Tell me😊.

Tagging: @tyrilsnightbloom

#Bryce Lahela #Bryce Lahela fanfiction #Bryce×f!MC #choicesstoriesyouplay #PixelberryChoices #ChoicesOpenHeart #Bryce Lahela angst

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years

Text

Liam & Edie

Liam: [okay so wrong number text which isn't actually we know, which is just the location of some illegal rave moment that she'll wanna go to] Edie: treasure? ❌🗺 Liam: wooden leg would be useful to hide all the treasure we're bringing in Edie: Gutted I don't know anyone who's ever had an abscess go full necrotic ☠ Edie: and who wants to cart around a treasure chest Liam: don't wanna do your share of the heavy lifting, big surprise Edie: is it? Liam: outgrow this pussy behaviour before tonight as a favour to me Liam: I don't wanna cart that much dead weight about Edie: As I remember it, you owe me though Liam: your memory's in the 🚽 Liam: I owe nobody nothing Edie: yours is selective Edie: can't even get 11 digits down Liam: a barcode's got 12 & I told you it's your business if you wanna walk round inked like you've only lived that many years that's your lookout Liam: not holding your hand Edie: even more gutted, no doubt Edie: 💔 Liam: if you won't be talked out of it, put it on your balls where no-one'll see it Edie: Will you think I'm tough then? Liam: what kind of gay shit is this? Edie: 😂 Edie: go easy on your mate Edie: you got the wrong number Liam: fucked the 11 digits Liam: that's what you were trying to say Edie: mhmm Edie: that's what I said Edie: but a barcode tattoo is a shit idea Edie: agreed Liam: sick of being the voice of reason around here Edie: I find it's more entertaining to let people make the bad decisions, personally Liam: would be jokes until I look a sad twat by association Liam: wants it on his head Edie: 🙄 what's it gonna say, product of the system? Edie: pretty sure a serial killer has already done that Edie: or some shit rapper Liam: he is a shit rapper Liam: [link] Edie: oh Edie: I know him Liam: serious? Edie: by association Edie: I'm a less shit musician in general, not that that's any brag Liam: can I get a listen or you're just here to promo to set me off on a ❌🗺 as payback? Edie: depends Edie: who's heading the rave you linked? Liam: [deets] Edie: alright Edie: you're not 12 like your pal Edie: [links him her music] Edie: [definitely pictures and videos along with, as if you don't know who she is but pretending you don't lol] Liam: come tonight instead of him Edie: talking to strangers is one thing, boy Liam: you leave the bad decisions to everyone else Liam: don't sound as entertaining as it could be Edie: I meant for your safety Edie: could be anyone Liam: be full of nobodys and anyones when we get there Liam: I'm still gonna go Edie: what makes you stand out? Edie: as you ❌ the barcode Liam: when I track you down, I'll listen to your opinion about me Liam: I'm bragging before then Edie: 🤞 we can't hear much of anything over the bass Edie: not that you're intriguing enough to show up for Edie: but the invite is sound Liam: you'll still know what I think, never had an issue with body language over bass Edie: I think I can guess already Liam: 👌 guess Edie: don't take a mind reader Edie: body language and 💭 are one in the same Liam: it don't take a mind reader when you know you're beautiful and talented Edie: ha leave it out Liam: 🧯 Edie: less of that as well Edie: not a wet blanket Liam: 🧨 Edie: that I like Liam: buying 🎇🎆 if you have any requests Edie: [all the party drugs not in code 'cos we're not bothered] Liam: 👾 Edie: NOW I look forward to 👀 you Liam: guessed it Edie: what gave it away? Liam: the vids you linked me to Edie: that's your review? Edie: at least give me some ⭐s Liam: 3.5 Edie: 👌 Liam: I'll give you another 1/2 when the anti barcode tat song drops Edie: what about the other whole? Liam: get him on the track Edie: 😂 Edie: you're on Liam: 👌 Edie: thank god for the edit Liam: & that only you're allowed to freestyle it rule we just invented Edie: good thing I'm more talented than even you are demanding Liam: I'd agree but you've heard it once & you weren't a fan Edie: you can agree when you see it in person Edie: I don't do this online fake shit Liam: I'll have my turn at looking forward to 👀 you Liam: more than down to Edie: good luck Edie: I can't find any cars with spare seats, so it's gonna be a crowd clearly Liam: yours is in if you want his Edie: how will I get my freestyle if he can't catch a ride? 🤔 Liam: shit like that is what earns you the rest of the ⭐s Liam: talent's not just Liam: 🎤🎧 Edie: yeah, I'm well kind and considerate Edie: known for it Liam: good thing I am Liam: [pic of all the drugs he has picked up] Edie: 🤪 Liam: got a 🐷 mask to fit in post raid, can stick it on early if 🥴 isn't doing anything for you Edie: 💡⭐ Edie: if you can't hang with your gurn we can't hang, like Liam: [a gorgeous gurning pic from a previous rave moment] Edie: fit Liam: ha ha ha Edie: don't act like you don't know Liam: I do 👌 out of my mugshots Edie: convince him to get that tatted instead Liam: too gay Edie: alright I'll do it Liam: before or after you take his seat Edie: if you tell me your name I'll save you a spot to earn mine Liam: Liam Edie: alright, Liam, thanks for not having a long and hard to spell name Edie: give me 🖐 Liam: you can have 3.5 again Edie: [purposely leaving it a full five before coming back with his name stick n poked and then a shoddy box for the mugshot portrait to go in] Edie: tada Liam: 👏 Liam: I didn't think you would Edie: if I say I'll do something, I will Edie: why not Edie: loads of Liam's in this town Liam: don't act like it's a standard trick to pull Liam: he's been oohing & ahhing for months over identifying as frozen peas when his face gets scanned Edie: it's a win-win for me, no need to think on it Edie: either you end up being sound, then it's a memory attached, or I get a cool story about getting a tattoo of a mugshot to get a lift to a rave to tell my grandkids Liam: I wanted you to sit next to me 5 mins ago, I can be impressed, can't I? Edie: I accept impressed Edie: and 👏 of course Liam: what did it feel like? Edie: it's somewhere between a scratch and a burning sensation Edie: but deeper Liam: you'll have to do me Liam: I like the sales pitch Edie: what do you want? Liam: what can you do? Edie: on you, a lot better than I can myself Edie: anything you want, I'll make it happen Liam: thanks for accepting impressive Edie: I intend to be so I can Edie: not here to disappoint Liam: I only was willing to be when I thought I was talking to that little bitch boy Edie: no gay shit Liam: unless you like one of the girls in the car Edie: ha Edie: we'll 👀 obviously Edie: where you starting out, anyway, and when Liam: [a time and place, I like to imagine it's a longish drive to give them time to #bond UGH] Edie: [and usually is to go to a middle of nowhere moment so agreed[ Edie: I'll be there Liam: would make me laugh if you don't show now Liam: longest chat I've had for ages Edie: even if I missed you 🚗 I've hitched before Edie: and it's been ages since I've been to a decent party so Liam: my pic could've fooled you but that last one was shit Liam: got a better feeling this time Edie: I feel you Edie: 💊🥤 just makes it tolerable Edie: down to 👀 yeah? Liam: Yeah Edie: better go find my glitter and gemstones out ✌ Liam: I feel you, will take me a while to paint my 💪 UV Liam: not got as steady a hand as you Edie: damn, that was almost impressive Liam: I'll work on it Edie: your steady hand or your bragging about your 💪? Liam: which one's letting me down the most? Edie: 🤔 Edie: you don't need to tattoo me yourself Edie: you are good looking enough you could get away with being cockier, go with that Liam: 👌 but now you've made me wanna tattoo you myself Edie: maybe Edie: if you think of a good idea, we'll overlook the shaky lines Liam: I'll try & think of an idea where wavy lines are part of it Edie: smart Edie: I like it Liam: 🌊 or something Liam: but less shit Liam: 📻 ones maybe Edie: you have any? Edie: professional ones, like Edie: you asked what stick n poke felt like so obviously not Liam: spend my money as fast as I have it Liam: what are you gonna charge me? Edie: what else are you gonna do with it though Edie: see how nice or poor I'm feeling Liam: I won't let the 💊🥤 run out, you'll feel a lot better than nice Edie: deal 🤩 Liam: be me blinded by your glitter & gems Edie: not actually my first rave Edie: but I can raid my little sister's shit if that's part of the deal Liam: see you in a 👑 will I? Edie: that's just standard day to day tbh 🤷 Liam: how many raves have you done? Edie: I've tried not to be in at the weekend since I was like 12 myself so Edie: enough that I know there's nothing fun or attractive about freezing your tits off in a neon bikini in a field Edie: what about you, you're [the year he'd be in which is either 2nd to last or last, either way], right? Liam: hasty to go with unattractive Liam: but yep, you're not wrong Edie: 😏 Edie: I get it, you wanna match 💪 Liam: no gay shit, your own words Liam: I didn't go to my first one until I was like 15, still not impressing anyone here Edie: me either Edie: middle child syndrome or whatever Liam: trade you oldest and only son if you want it Edie: Attention is grand and all but too much parental attention isn't what I'm aiming for Liam: can't offer you it Liam: my parents attention is elsewhere Edie: yours still together? Liam: nah Edie: oh good Edie: wouldn't know what to do with a dad Liam: not lots you can do with mine Edie: might be stuck being ourselves for the foreseeable anyway Edie: not a convincing freaky friday/parent trap situation you and me Liam: shame I won't get to 🎸 & lay down a track with your talent Edie: just buzzin' off all the things I could lift obviously 💪 Liam: this where I get cocky like you said? Liam: go on about how much I can Edie: you could Edie: but I'm clearly impressed before you need to use that tactic Liam: it's too desperate Liam: we both know I can pick you up if you get stuck in the mud later on Edie: we both know it's every man for himself when the 🐷 show Liam: I got you a mask Liam: yours has lipstick and more eyelashes, so we know Edie: thank god Edie: fragile femininity anyone? Liam: prefer toxic masculinity Edie: same Liam: 👍 Edie: if the daddy issues weren't glaring the 👑 will make 'em blinding Liam: we can pretend that since you're with me no-one'll be looking at you if you want Edie: the freedom Liam: I'll give you 🛢🧨 to play with Liam: 🔥 will take the attention Edie: really? Liam: 🎇🎆 wasn't only a code Liam: I do have some Edie: 🤩 no joke Edie: I wanna blow shit up Liam: that's all I ever wanna do Edie: yeah Edie: feel that too Liam: if you can capture 🔥 in a tat that'd be something worth considering Liam: not in a gay way like 🎲💀♠ Edie: that's overplayed, and doesn't mean anything Edie: I'll do some designs, providing I make it home alive Liam: supposed to see my dad tomorrow for the first time in months, don't think I'll rush back Edie: 🛢🧨🎇🎆 why would you Liam: don't feel you have to either, unless you're catfishing me Edie: I'd pick someone else if I was Edie: and you accidentally texted me Liam: I'm into the someone I accidentally texted, full fucking offense to whoever you wanna pick Edie: then I'll stick around too Edie: nothing I'm rushing back for Liam: it's in writing I'm not kidnapping you Liam: have to do a mugshot monday instead or something Edie: feel free Edie: I can't see that I'd mind Liam: being kidnapped or sharing a cell? Edie: hmm Edie: both Edie: though the involvement of bars to keep me about is unnecessary really Liam: does hitchiking only work if you're a girl with killer eyes? asking for myself before we torch the car Edie: as you're toxically masculine, most people'd be afraid to stop for you alone but as we're together, you should be safe and not an axe murderer Edie: unless I'm pulling a Hindley Liam: when we go for that we'll think it through more Liam: 🐶 or 👶 on board Edie: I can borrow one Edie: 👶 more likely Edie: people don't like cats enough Liam: I'll get over a fence to grab us a dog Edie: in one step, like Liam: depending on the fence Edie: sure, don't wanna oversell it Liam: you don't want no online fake shit Edie: just telling you so you know Edie: not the same Liam: thanks for telling me Edie: yeah alright Edie: didn't lecture you did I Liam: nah you didn't Edie: there we go then Liam: [quotes some of her own lyrics at her that he likes because genuinely listening to these tracks] Liam: you could sell that harder Edie: I'll work it out in my freestyle Liam: 🛢🧨 Edie: 🔥 Liam: 🎇🎆 Edie: 🤩 Liam: let's see your glitter Edie: checking it's not a catfish? Liam: can't show you mine first, too cocky behaviour Edie: [a rave lewk when we've clearly done the most to do the least you know the vibe] Liam: [I like to think he's written her name in body paint wherever she put her stick n poke so have a pic of that gal] Edie: 👍 Edie: approved Liam: what do you want your i dotted with? Liam: about as artistic as you'll get me to be Edie: ⭐ Edie: has to be Liam: [an adorable little star has been added so have another pic] Edie: perfect Liam: thanks for having a name that's short and easy to spell yourself Edie: oh yeah, snap Liam: except I haven't met another one of yours Edie: maybe an 👵 Liam: prefer a silent snatch & grab Edie: 😂 Edie: alright, then I can be the one and only Liam: do you wanna guess what I think about it? Edie: I have Edie: be too cocky to say Liam: I'll do it then, you said I can get away with more of it Liam: I think it'd be good if you were Edie: let's see if you're right Liam: feels like I am but yeah we'll 👀 Edie: it is weird Edie: how you randomly found my number instead Edie: how many # were you out by? Liam: you'll have his if you didn't before Liam: last number Edie: crazy Edie: another good story Liam: should've been a 6 but I did a 9 Edie: 🤪 love that Liam: I'll lose my phone again if you're what I find Edie: I'll save your number then Edie: or add it to the tat Liam: since you love how it feels Edie: and I'm no less liable to lose my phone, so Edie: the pain is just a bonus Liam: I can add it as fuel to the 🔥 any time you'd like an excuse to cross my number out & go again Edie: I won't run out of ideas either way Liam: what about space? Edie: not anytime soon Edie: I'll have to go back to biro and keep it less permanent after that Liam: leave it on the bodies of our victims like the shittiest calling card for the 🐷 Liam: call me Edie: ooh Edie: we could get really zodiac with that though Edie: only murder people on days ending in 9 Liam: I like it Edie: I'll go solo if you piss me off and do it on 6 days Liam: I'll start staging them like they've starred in your vids to get your forgiveness Liam: attention to detail for attention from you Edie: we can communicate through corpses Edie: that's new, no one's done that before Liam: when I keep the 👀 as a 🏆 you'll know I wanna see you Edie: romantic, aren't you Liam: toxic like my masculinity Edie: good Liam: ☢️ better than a barcode but not by a lot Edie: I could do you a Chernobyl victim tat Edie: get the toxic and the 🔥 in a really untasteful onner Liam: 👌 you're beautiful, talented & smart Liam: don't give me any flaws to pick at then Edie: I did say untasteful instead of distasteful, if you wanna be pedantic and take away smart so you can save some toxic masculinity points Edie: one-ner, also, doesn't translate to typing Liam: when it took you pointing it out, I don't think I can take anything away from you Edie: you can try Edie: again, like kidnapping, might not mind Liam: I can't help thinking it'd be better to give you things Edie: 🎇🎆🛢🧨? Liam: all that Liam: ⭐🐶👶 Liam: & anything else I've not remembered Edie: we can keep the puppy right Liam: what else would we do with it? Edie: just letting you know I draw the line at puppy killing Edie: get that out of the way now Liam: me too Liam: never microwaved any 🐹 or thrown them at the wall Edie: imagine how big you look to 🐹 Liam: 🏙🦖 Edie: definitely made that �� as a kid Liam: I'll be in the remake next time you're stuck for a vid idea Liam: if you still have it, we'll kick it frame for frame Edie: you'd be perfect for my next project Liam: sign me up Edie: [tat pic again like I already did] Liam: what else have you got? Edie: [just a comprehensive pic rundown of your tats that are all just silly ones you've done on the whole hope you've not got them anywhere too scandalous but realistically gonna need to be able to hide them when school so it's probably mostly legs at and like, upper arm and ribs/hip vibes] Liam: 😍 Edie: I'll tell you all the stories later when we're smashed Liam: no awkward silences in the car Liam: great idea Edie: not if the other girls are hot Liam: there's one I think you'd like Liam: you'll have to tell me if I'm wrong Edie: I'll flash a 6 or a 9 and you'll know Liam: she can be our first victim either way Edie: 😈 Liam: 🚗🔥 Liam: 🔐 Edie: 😍 Edie: you win Liam: how do you feel about playing games? Liam: 6 or 9 Edie: 9 Liam: same Edie: I know Liam: yeah, you're smart, I gave you that Edie: how smart is it that I wanna play with you? Liam: I'd call it a good decision, which maybe isn't smart if you only like bad ones Edie: I just like doing what I want Edie: good or bad is mostly irrelevant Liam: so do what you want Edie: you to be here now Liam: direct me 🗺❌ Edie: [at least you've had the good sense to be in town not at yours] Liam: [lord imagine] Edie: [like sure Rio ain't about but still don't need to be inviting you in quite yet lol] Liam: [her room is still there and no thank you hun] Edie: [not today huns, we can either skip to post rave now or post this as is?]

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jpat82 · 6 years

Text

Christmas Key

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

It was your first Christmas together, and you were nervous. What do you get a man that could buy whatever he wants? It seemed cheesy to buy him something like a sweater or a watch, he had a closet full. You had all but officially moved into his country style home at the end of quiet little neighborhood. The house wasn't anything large or extravagant, which was prefect to you. The main floor had the kitchen and dining room plus the living room and a bedroom tucked into the corner with a private bath. Upstairs was the two quest rooms one of which had been turned into an office and library.

It was cozy with a cute little fireplace and hard wood floors. And the Christmas decorations, the twinkling lights made it even more so. A year ago had someone told you that you would be celebrating your first Christmas with boyfriend, who you adored, a bakery that was thriving in the heart of London, you would of called that person crazy. You sighed with contentment as you stared over at the Christmas tree, colorful lights glowing on the deep green branches.

It was a two weeks before Christmas and you still hadn't gotten Tom anything and you were starting to stress out about it. You would think that he would at least give you some kind of hint but no, he was the most frustrating person in the world to shop for.

"Darling, ready to go down town?" Tom asked as he stepped into the living room from the kitchen. You smiled over to him as he came up to you, grabbing your jacket from the chair in the dining room as he did.

"Of course Thomas, I was just admiring your tree." You replied, allowing him to slip the coat up your arms.

—-

Winter snow had just dusted the city, and continued to fall in small flurries. The two of you had just finished seeing a play and were strolling the city streets marveling at the crispness of the snow. Buildings adorned with festive decorations, colorful lights from windows reflected off the white canvas of new fallen snow.

Your arm was linked in with his, your face duck into the royal blue chenille scarf. Even with the cold air surrounding the both of you you felt warm and happy. He led you into a small shop, the lights low and the smell of coffee and cocoa hit you.

"Can we get to two cocoas?" Tom asked as you walked up to the counter.

"Yes, sir." The barista replied with a smile, taking his money and starting the machine.

"So you aren't going to visit family for the holiday?" Tom asked, as you both seated yourselves waiting for your drinks.

"No, I have the bakery to worry about." You replied, sighing lightly. "I have a ton of holidays orders coming up and my sister just had her daughter. And as much as I love my sister and her kids, she can be intense on a normal day. After she had my nephew she was down right crazy."

"I'm sure she isn't that bad." He chuckled, you let out a hearty laugh.

"Oh, Tom if you only knew. She has these grand ideas and never sees them through. Her husband, god bless that man, he's a high profile lawyer and the sweetest person you'd ever meet but her.." You took a deep breath. "Love her death but, I'm glad I came to England, otherwise she would still be trying to run my life."

"Really?" He asked as the barista called your order, both of you standing to retrieve your drinks before heading back out into the cold night.

"Let see, she wanted me to go into medicine cause it pays better and when I told her I had no desire to do that, but I wanted to bake." You looked over to him, Tom's eyes met yours as he took a sip of his hot cocoa. "She wanted me to cook so I could work at one of Gordon Ramsay's restaurants. Everything about her is money. She didn't like my idea of owning my own bakery."

"And your parents?" He asked, his brows furrowing.

"As long as I'm happy they really didn't care." You shrugged. "Love them dearly but they were always on the go, busy doing this or that, my sister pretty much raised me."

"Darling, that sounds really dreadful. Not having them around." He said softly looking at the ground as you both made your way back to his car.

"It's not as bad as it sounds. Honestly, cause when we went on vacation, they made up for it. They took us to amazing places and spent quality time with us." You smiled over at him. "I wouldn't trade growing up with anyone else."

"Well, that's good then. Ready to go back home?" He asked as he unlocked the car.

"Of course." You giggled, getting in.

—-

Two hours later, the two of you sat curled up on the couch all the lights off except the lights on the tree and the fire in the fireplace. A throw was tossed over both of you as you stayed snuggled into each other. You thought about everything you'd have to do in the morning and knew you should head back to your own tiny flat on the other side of town. Not that you wanted to leave, you would rather stay right here, curled into your boyfriend.

"Darling, there is something in my stocking on the fireplace, can you bring it to me?" He asked. You sighed, pulling the covers back and walking over. Bare feet felt the cold floor as you traveled over to the fire place. You snagged the stocking and brought it back, sitting next to him. "Look inside."

You chuckled lightly, reaching in a felt something cold. Tilting your head you gave a puzzled look as you pulled the small item out. It was key, and attached to it was a slip of paper.

'You stole the key to my heart, so here is the key to my house.'

Your eyes lifted to meet his, Tom bit his lip.

"I know it seems a bit soon, but I'd like you to move in with me. I hate you going home or me leaving you to come back here. I was going to wait till Christmas to give you the key, but... I want you to be here when I wake for Christmas, and every day." He stated holding your contact.

"Thomas, I'd love that!!" You exclaimed wrapping your arms around him, lips meeting against his.

"Merry Christmas to me then." He stated when you broke from the kiss.

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lovemecharlie · 6 years

Text

Five Months In.

Charlie's Gender Reveal x Kristina the FreakyThief finds a new love 💕

Charlie felt like she was on her period almost, but without the blood and once her belly had grown to a noticeable size, suddenly everyone in her life was an expert on pregnancy and babies, feeling the need to tell her everything they'd ever half-read or heard. Her parents had stories about her childhood for days, odd stories that only Erik wanted to hear so that he could look at her and laugh. He wanted to get slapped, Charlie had the suspicion that he got off on it especially since she'd been a bit more temperamental than usual. Her moods changed quicker than Bastion's outfits. Her clients had helpful tidbits at times, but mostly empty aww's, nosey digging questions, and general knowledge. Nothing for the swelling, constipation, or bloating. She was grateful for the consideration and well wishes, but she wished people would mind their own business in the most polite way possible while keeping their hands to themselves. They weren't at the Apollo and her stomach was not a block of wood people could rub for good luck. Anyway, that was neither here nor there, the day of her gender reveal had arrived and she was determined to have a great day. She felt energized and there was a party to prep for.

"Need help," Erik asked waltzing into the room. He never knocked, he'd always just barge in.. often not even saying anything, just staring out of the window. Sometimes she'd stand next to him and he'd hug her. Those were the times she wondered if he was really okay, though she never asked, she just stood with him. "Nope, I'm feeling pretty decent so I've got this," Charlie smiled casually lifting from the bed to take her shower. Erik walked to her west facing floor to ceiling window. Nearly all of her walls were replaced with windows tinted from the outside. Thick glass stretched horizontally across the room, giving a magnificent sky view, property view, and beyond. He could see everything from her windows, the perfect high perch.

"You know this used to be my office before we met? I used to come in here to think when life, Wakanda, the center, Hennessy, Angéle, Kimora, and that damn Davita," he smirked, "..would get to be too much." He paused looking out and Charlie made her way to his side to stare out as well. "Sometimes they would really raise a nigga blood pressure to the point where I could either snap and do something terrible that I'd regret or I could walk away. It's like the same decision has been presented to me over and over again my whole life and because of the love implanted in me by my father, I've been forced to face these situations head on. Because I loved my wives, I couldn't hurt them like I'd hurt someone else. I'd lock myself in this room and look out these windows reminding myself of why I chose this road. Why I ain't give up in Wakanda? Why do I still push for these folk who act like they don't give a damn when I do it for them? Why I let myself fall in love?"

Charlie simply listened as Erik was transported back in time through his thoughts.

"I want you to know that no matter what happens in this house, you're special to me like this room is special to me. I'm safe with you. Don't think I don't appreciate it and all the times you spent right here with me while I was going through it."

Wordless, Charlie wrapped her arms around his waist, her head against his bare chest. He smelled good.. clean and fresh like rain. His fingers absentmindedly played in her curls as they stood there in silence.

"Can I be your safe place," he asked suddenly, catching Charlie off guard and causing her to realize that other than prayer.. she didn't really have one. She didn't trust anyone enough to be that vulnerable. Did she even trust Erik? She had to think about it. No, she didn't, but if she was going to stay with him, she needed to start. There was a long silence, since she refused to give him a yes that she did not mean and he was patient as he said he'd be.

"..Yes," she finally whispered into his raised skin answering the spoken and unspoken questions between the two of them. On her return to the household, she'd promised she'd try to make the marriage work and this was taking a giant step in the right direction. She hoped she wouldn't regret it.

The shower was exactly what her body needed and when she emerged towel-wrapped and hair wet, Erik was still there at her window. She approached and he did a double take, taking in the wet curls draping over her shoulders and her glistening skin. As if forgetting the thoughts he'd been tangled in, he tilted her head back kissing her on the forehead and lips before halting her with his hands in the air. "Wait here, I'll be right back," he stressed before jogging off. When he returned a minute or so later, she was sitting on the bed, waiting. He held out a garment bag and what he unveiled was a jumpsuit. An iridescent champagne colored jumpsuit with a long bejeweled train glowing from the waist. It was beautiful.

"This is for me?" Charlie leaped inspecting the garment. It was precisely her style.

"Try it on," Erik grinned full of pride, helping her into it. It was a perfect tapered and comfortable fit with space for her growing belly. She looked in the mirror, her smile wide as he stood behind her adding a chunky diamond choker set in more diamonds in rose gold. "Don't worry," he rushed watching her expression, "I'll return it if you don't wanna keep it, but for today let me ice you out. Then you can trade it for a mountain of haircare products or whatever it is you splurge on."

She laughed. She splurged on gifts. The Kompound was bougie and fancy as hell. Diamond this and that, cars on cars.. She couldn't buy them Calvin Klein. Calvin Klein??? She'd be shot! No, she saved her coins and splurged on holidays so that she could afford the big brands.

"I'm a spoil my lil monster when she comes. She finna be the iciest baby all because her mama wanna be plain."

"You can spoil our SON however you wanna spoil our SON, HE's our SON," Charlie grinned.

"Like I said, my PRINCESS will get the south pole around her neck."

"Poor polar bears," Charlie chuckled admiring her sparkling reflection. She needed to beat her face and throw on some heels, although her feet were swollen. She wondered if she could jam them into some heels.

"Just wear flats," he chuckled dropping some sparkly flat shoes near her feet.

"I want heels. This look needs heels!" Her hands posed on her hips, she was feeling herself, standing on her toes.

"As clumsy as you are without them? I don't need a reason to worry. Angel's pregnancy stressing me enough."

"How are you holding up?"

He looked at her like he had just run a marathon and was out of breath, shaking his head.

"Damn," she grimaced. "It'll be worth it. Once the twins get here and she's given birth, she will heal and you will too. You'll be able to show her all the love you've been afraid to and the twins will help you."

"I'm scared, Charlie. I need her around. I don't know what I'll do if... I can't.. I can't do this shit without her-"

"I know. She'll be okay," Charlie smiled holding his chin in her hand, "She will!!! You'll be okay. You'll look back on all of this and it'll be another segment of your crazy life that you've fought through. You're Killmonger! If anyone can make it through this rough stage, it's you. Positive thoughts. In fact, let's go see Angel right now."

---

The time had come and Charlie's face was finally beat, her hair twisted with added hair in a long ponytail. She felt like a badass intergalactic fairy. Erik wore white, his vest accented with the same champagne iridescent material. The wives, Kristina, and Davita wore variations from the same color family from champagne to white to silver to lavender.. as did the extended family for the most part. Diamonds dangled all over and everyone was beautiful. The event was in the massive backyard near the lush garden where the large gazebo stood overgrown and taken over by flowers. The DJ mixed oldies like Frankie Beverly and Earth Wind & Fire with new music from the likes of Sango, H.E.R, Khalid, MNEK, etc. There was even a sprinkling of some lit gospel, something for everybody. People drank, laughed, danced, and feasted on a spread produced by the mansion's kitchen staff. Of course, Josphine and Kristina had to contribute a few gems like cobblers and pies because they had a specific way of making them that couldn't be duplicated.

When the games came, the guests got even louder and Charlie was grateful that Erik owned so much land, the neighbors were far away. "It's a boy, her stomach is low!" "She a little fatter in the middle, it's a girl." "It's gotta be a boy!" "No, the baby's too high, she's a girl!" Charlie earhustled as the loud debates went on and Erik being the hustler that he was took bets causing Charlie to roll her eyes. Nakia insisted that the baby was a girl siding with Erik while T'Challa refused to comment. Nakia's sideeye kept him from disagreeing. The wives refrained from comment too, already aware of the baby's gender since they'd set up the reveal.

"Travante!" Charlie yelled, waving excitedly when she noticed the chocolate man appear in white and silver, his smile the whitest of all.

Erik's brow raised as he watched the exchange from a short distance away, his ears listening hard as he watched her lips trying to read them. He decided to trust that Charlie knew what she was doing while he socialized, but he still stayed close.

"I'm glad you could make it," Charlie grinned giving Tre a loving side hug and dragging him to meet the other wives. "Y'all this is THE Trevante. Trevante, this is Hennessy, Kimora, her sister Davita, Bastion.."

"I've seen you before," he pointed to her and she grinned, swishing her dress, flattered.

"This is Aly'Sha, Ryley, Angel.."

"Wow! I've heard about you. I'm glad you're doing better.. and you look stunning. You strong as hell," he gaped and Angel's warm smile made him smile.

"Aight nigga," Erik spoke in warning stepping back to Angel's side in her tricked out Chanel inspired black and gold wheelchair. He was being extremely patient and Charlie was proud, giving his hand a squeeze as she smiled at Tre. Tre nodded, calm and understanding.

"And this is Josephine, Homie, and where is... oh there she is!" Charlie grinned. Over by the dessert table was Kristina making sure everything remained presentable and attractive. She wore a champagne sequined one- shoulder dress that fit her like a second skin, her cleavage sparkling and her full and flowing. "Kristina," Charlie yelled waving her over. The second she spotted Trevante, her eyes focused in on his face and she swallowed.

"This is our little bee, Kristina. Little bee, meet Trevante," Charlie gestured. Kristina's face flushed and Trevante grinned. It was an instant connection that Charlie felt. She could see the chemistry creating bonds on their eyes. It made her feel like playing Cupid.

"Aow SHIT," Charlie yelled dropping her glass of sparkling cider. It shattered and Erik pulled her away quickly from the glass. As he was about to bend to pick it up, she gripped him hard pausing him. "Tre, would you mind going to find a staff member to clean this up? Check in the house. Kristina, could you escort him so that he knows where to go? I'm so clumsy, wow. I can't believe I did that.. Sheesh!"

Watching the two walk away toward the house, Charlie saw the visual herself and Erik in the early stages and it made her smile.

"Okay, Cupid," Erik grinned, "I see you."

"See what happens when you trust me," she mused.

As the festivities continued, the moment everyone had been waiting for finally came. Charlie was so anxious with excited energy that Erik had to rub her arms and he was just as antsy. "Are you excited, are you excited, are you excited?" Charlie bounced.

"AHH," good his eyes widened before he shook his head laughing out the excess energy.

"Look at you, you shook boy," Hennessy teased. "We already know the gender, it's fun watching you sweat," Ryley laughed enjoying the flustered Erik. He put up a playful middle finger, pacing and Charlie could see him taking deep breaths. "As long as it's healthy," she mouthed and he nodded picking up the bedazzled handgun and aiming it at the target set up free and clear in the distance, a large white balloon with 'Charlie & Erik' written on it in black script. She picked up the identical gun laid out for her and aimed it at the large black balloon with the same writing in white.

"You ready, C?"

Charlie made sure her aim was on point. "Let's go get'em!"

The guns fired simultaneously and both balloons popped flaring into two pink explosions. Erik dropped the gun, not knowing what to do with himself as his arms swung across his body.

"TOLD YO ASS," he grinned with an aggressive index pointing, eyes wet. Charlie wiped his eyes nodding. She was speechless, her own eyes wide in shock. She really thought it was a boy, but she was happy regardless. Nakia could be heard in the crowd telling M'Baku to pay up and all of the wives congratulated the happy couple one at a time followed by the party-goers, some of them very drunk. It was a perfect moment.

"Daka," Charlie whispered in Erik's ear with a humored expression once they caught a break, "Where did the little bee and Trevante go? Did they ever come back?" Erik grinned rubbing his beard and shaking his head before looking to the house. They'd been MIA for a while.

@poosypoosy @bastioncarterstevens-udaku @hennessystevens-udaku @itsangeludaku @alyshastevens-udaku @itskimorafireudaku @allhailnjadaka @bidibidibombaclaat @blackpinup22 @destinio1 @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @leahnicole1219 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark @trevantesbrat

#the kompound #fics #charlie #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x oc #erik stevens

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sicaminion · 6 years

Text

—Kise hates his smile.

“Yo, Kise.” He looks up and finds Aominecchi has this annoying, cocky smile plasters on his face. He looks down on him, slightly, because he’s annoyingly taller (only by few inches!) and it makes him regrettably too smug for Kise’s liking.

“You late. I’ve been waiting here for more than 2 hours,” he grumbles, jutting out his lips because that’s what he unconsciously does when he is annoyed.

“I told you not to wait on me,” he retorts easily. “I messaged you so don’t get all grumpy on me now.”

“You messaged me by only 10 ten minutes before! Are you seriously thinking it’s that easy to cancel an official meeting like this?”

“Calm your tits blondie, don’t be so stiff now. I’m here, alright.”

Kise glares and he glares hard. He can tell his face gets all red now. “You know what? You’re—“

“—an ass,” the smirking male drawls, smugly stealing Kise’s words from his tongue. He smiles so innocently it gets on Kise’s nerve. He opens his mouth to snap on the bluenette but the latter is quick to cup on his cheeks, making the blond snaps his mouth shut.

“I’m sorry,” he says with an intense gaze fixed up on him. And then he smiles, that damn heartbreaking smile of him that always without fail electrified him, makes his skin all tingles and his breath shortened.

Kise stomps his way as he tries to escape from Aominecchi’s clutch, cheeks red and lips bitten in frustration more at his own self than at the other.

Kise really hates his smile.

—Kise hates his hairstyle.

Aominecchi keeps his hair uncut in university. For some unknown reason the lazyass bluenette decides to roll on with a longer, wilder style even when Kise knows he thinks it’s annoying because every time the now longer fringe dropped to his forehead he'd shove them with this tiny scowl on his face. Sometimes he'd mess with it or swapped it aside (also with this irritated mini furrowed eyebrows that Kise might or might not find kind of maybe slightly adorable.) He would also scratch the top locks on his head with his claws from time to time and then Kise would have scrunched his nose whenever the latter did so, he'd told him that if his head itched he should have shampooed it more. Aominecchi then would either gets him in a headlock or ruffles his hair.

“If it annoys you why you keep it long?” he asks when the movement getting all too distracting for him.

Aominecchi looks at him and shrugs, messing his hair once again.

Kise then would keep staring at him. More specifically, at his hand and gets stupidly jealous of it because he desperately wants to do the job. He wants to replace that hand and run his own hand through the other's hair. He wants to reach out and play with the strangely soft looking locks.

“You said I should try to keep it longer.” He hears Aominecchi says after a while of pause.

“Huh, I did?”

“Yeah, I think I might try and see if it suits me.”

Yes, it does. Kise coughs and looks the other way. “Don’t cut it, then.” Keep it long (and maybe, just maybe, he would have a chance one day to run his hand on it.)

—Kise hates the way he made fun of him.

“Oh my God,” Aominecchi gasps between his laughter. Kise hopes he’ll choke up and drop dead on the ground any minute now.

“What an epic fail! Oh yeah, you really gets the hang of it, alright. You’re the best.” He continues with his unnecessary comment, even still as breathless as he is at the moment.

“Shut up.” Kise grits his teeth. He bows his head and tugs on the bluenette’s jacket sleeve closer, hoping that the other’s larger figure can somehow hide him from people’s curious eyes.

“I have to admit that when I see your confidence declaration I was sold for a moment right then. What was it again? Oh yeah, I can do it Aominecchi,” he says, mimicking Kise’s voice. The blond is clearly unimpressed at the unflattering copy the bluenette makes of him, “Who do you think I am? There’s no way parking a car could be harder than beating your ass in basket.” Aominecchi then snorts and adds; “Now I know you suck at both.”

Kise stomps at Aominecchi’s foot because it is what best he can do in the middle of attempting to escape from the scene. But Kise did stomp quite hard and he is very satisfied at himself when he hears the tanned skinned male yelped in pain. “Do such thing once again and you’ll have to drive yourself home after this.” Aominecchi darkly mutters.

“Is that a threat?” Kise squints his eyes, looking particularly at Aominecchi’s other feet contemplating if there’s some other way he can step on the other one as well.

“Seeing how you successfully bumped every single ones of the traffic cones, scratched the innocent, unmoving car on both your sides, and hit a huge-ass tree in a straight path… yes. It’s a threat for your own safety, genius copycat.”

Kise vows to get the paint job of Aominecchi’s car scratched and totally ruined later on. Unintentionally, of course.

—Kise hates when he treats him like a girl.

Sometimes Aominecchi can easily gets on his nerve when he is, in fact, only trying to be kind.

Like when he accompanied him to shop the previous weekend, for example. “Here, trade the bigger bag with mine.” He said. “Actually, just lemme carry them all, you look like you’d swoon anytime now.” He added which made Kise bitched, of course, because seriously he isn’t that weak and just because he is paler than usual—because of the terrible heatstroke—doesn’t mean he is going to swoon like a damsel. (So “No, thank you,” he replied.)

Or that one time when the college’s clinic doctor said he was anemic and should had been better taking a rest from his part-time modelling for at least one week. The blue haired male wouldn't let him escape his eyesight and after watched the few times Kise almost going to fall down—actually, it was just two times. He counted—he’d insisted he’ll carry him to his apartment. (“Fuck it, Kise. I’ll just give you a piggyback ride,” he stated.) But Kise was stubborn so he strongly refused—it'd be goddamn embarrassing damnit. Knowing he had fainted and got carried away in a bride style to the clinic was already embarrassing enough he wished the earth would open and swallow him, letting himself get carried when he was very much conscious was another different level of humiliation. Thank you very much, but nope.

But then one day, Aominecchi’s current girlfriend is sick. She gets a fever and the clinic doctor tells her she could leave earlier if she felt the fever getting worst. She milks the best out of it (like any typical college student who doesn’t have the motivation to stay for the class would do in such opportunity) and takes a leave.

“She’s definitely faking it, of course.” Momoicchi mutters beside him. They’re sitting on the picnic sheet the girl has brought with her and lay on the grass in the College yard, studying for a subject they luckily shared the exam together, “When Dai-chan and I visited her in the clinic she looked absolutely fine except for the slightly flushed face, she’s just making Dai-chan carry her around to make Togano-san believes she’s indeed too sick to participate in the class.”

Kise smiles a tight, small strained lips kind of smile—because he too, thinks the same like Momoicchi. He watches as Aominecchi and his girlfriend—fitting snugly in the bluenette’s hold—approach them. The girl smiles as she looks down at the two of them and sighs softly, cheeks flush in a pretty, feminine shade of pink.

“Daiki always treats me like a princess,” she gushes aloud. “He looks rough on the outside but he would offers such sweet thing that only I get the privilege to.”

Kise refrains himself from saying anything and from the corner of his eyes he can see Momoicchi does the same. Neither of them saying anything to reply the girl but Kise has, with an irritation he doesn't really understand, keeps a note to himself that the next time Aominecchi gets all annoying again by offering him sweet thing like piggyback him or anything stupid like that, he’ll let him do it and makes sure his girl knows about it.

—Kise hates how he criticized his job.

“You’re scrawny Kise.” He hears Aominecchi's comment as he flips the few pages where Kise’s photoshoot of recent modeling for a jeans printed on. “You look like a toothpick.”

Kise eyeballs the bluenette wishing if only the imaginary daggers he sends at Aominecchi could actually really give a sting on his wide forehead. “Whatever you say, Aominecchi. But for your information everyone in the studio praised my body.” He says defensively.

The ex-Touou ace puts down the magazine and gives him a once over. “Meh, they don’t have good eyes, then.” He drawls and then as to prove a point he casually strips and throws his shirt at him.

“Asshole,” Kise grumbles.

He quickly looks the other way so that the other won’t notice the embarrassing red shade creeping up his face.

“Kise,” he hears Aominecchi calls after a moment of silence between them. He hummed as to makes him know he listening. “Have you ever thought of quitting modeling before?”

Slightly taken by surprise when he heard the strange question, Kise pursed his lips before he replies. “Um, I have a small fleeting thought once in awhile. Usually it’s whenever I was feeling particularly worn out after the job but the thought never stays for long.” He shrugs. “Why suddenly the weird question, Aominecchi?”

“You should quit.” The bluenette says with a ridiculously straight face. Kise frowns. He’s going to say something—ask him why, maybe, but Aominecchi beats him. “All of your poses are silly.”

Kise huffs after he hears that, his jaws tightens in irritation. Aominecchi always makes fun of the job he’s been doing since junior high school. He’s been indifferent at first—after all, what he cares solely in his silly teenage years is only basketball (and a gravure idol who’s photobook he’d never missed)—but getting older and wiser as time passes by the male has finally put interests in other things that isn’t his favorite sport. He’s putting more concerns on his friends, make an effort to actually hang out with them, and honestly Kise couldn’t be any happier for that. However, when it comes to the potential of bullying Kise the other has never hesitated any bit, and while his mocks are mostly teasing sometimes it can get hurtful too. Kise has long since learned to just rolls with it.

“All of my poses are none of your business Aominecchi. You’re not the one who paid me for the job, so I don’t care whatever your opinions about them.” Kise snaps and then winces at how bitter he must have sounded to the other. It’s not his character to get angry at Aominecchi’s barbs. Between the two of them he prides himself to be the more level headed one.

But he can’t take the words he has spoken so confidently now, can he?

Next he realized Aominecchi hasn’t said anything after his snappy comeback yet and even though Kise doesn’t have the guts to look at him and whatever expression fixed on the bluenette’s face he feels a small surge of pride blossoming inside his chest for finally standing up for his own self. And also for finally be the one with the last words between the two of them.

—most of all, Kise hates the way he gave a sincere 'sorry'.

It’s been a month and between three upcoming fashion shows and an offer to make his debut in the newest edition of W’s Japan Kise has not yet got the chance to talk with Aominecchi after their latest argument. It’s been quite awkward after he delivered his blow to get back on the other’s mocking comment regarding his modeling works and strangely Aominecchi didn't throw any comeback retorts until he'd gone home soon later that day.

“Do you think I’m being too harsh when I said his opinion don’t matter?” Kise asks Momoicchi after he’s finished telling him about their last encounter. They’ve been in phone call for almost an hour now. They’ve became so close with each other since the starts of freshmen year, having shared few same classes and known each other since junior high school. They enjoy each other’ companies and share many similar taste. Momoicchi has something in her that makes it easy to discuss almost everything.

“No Ki-chan, I think you did the right thing. Dai-chan could really be so arrogant sometimes and it’s nice that you tolerate his flaws, but you can’t let him step on your feelings either.” Momoicchi has assures him and it really makes him feeling all better.

But after they decides to say goodbye for the night and the call has ended, Kise lies on his side, the gallery on his phone showing the recent photo he has taken with Aominecchi in Murasakibaracchi’s Halloween Party last week. They have their cheeks pressed together as they grinned widely, ear to ear, faces flushed because of the Pina Collada and Aominecchi has one of his arms on Kise’s hip as the other tugged on the bunny ears on the headband he’d been forced to wear.

Suddenly Kise misses him.

And as if on cue, the said bluenette’s caller id pops out on his screen.

With wide, startled eyes Kise gazed at the flashing screen for few seconds not doing anything, before he finally snaps out of it and quickly picks up the phone.

“A-aominecchi?”

“Kise,” a deep voice, somehow with a touch of relief in it, answers him. “What took you so long, dumbass?”

Kise recognized the usual teasing tone the other is using and he smiles, “Mou, it can’t be that long.”

He hears few chuckles and then there’s silence before Aominecchi talks again. “Hey, uh... listen, I want to say I’m sorry, Kise.”

Kise’s heart skips a beat. “Uh, for what?”

“For making you upset,” the other replies easily. “Because I did, right? Upsetting you, I meant.”

Kise feels like he’s thrown to another realm. He can’t believe Aominecchi has just apologized! Well, it’s not that he’s that much of an asshole—no matter how people may thought of him—Aomine is, just like everyone else, also capable of feeling guilty, apologetic, and even remorse. He just usually not chooses to openly admit it—not verbally at least.

He prefers to act on it. Like suddenly bringing a box of donuts without being asked to or offering to help on something he normally won’t do.

If he says sorry he says it to tease. It's definitely not like this.

“Kise? You still there?”

“Oh, yes! I— sorry I just—” Kise bites his lips.

Damn, he can’t contain his grin.

—Kise hates Aominecchi, .......well, maybe not completely though. It'scomplicated.

#aokise #knb #rewrite old story #ao3 #ff: love/hate #kise thoughts are a mess #he is just a confused puppy #aomine doesn't help #aka the shoujo manga tropes i found silly but secretly like

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iamknicole · 6 years

Text

Officially A Malone

AN: Mitch went home to get a few things but doesn't expect to be questioned.

To say that Mitch was nervous would be an understatement. Even in his adolescence, he never dealt a hand in anything his family had done this violent. When his uncle said he wanted the clean cut kid brought to him, Mitch assumed that he would pass his uncle's request on to his cousins to handle. He didn't expect to be the one executing and planning everything.

Protection was something Mitch always had. Especially now with what he had in his home. He needed to protect what was his.

As soon as he got into his house, Mitch went straight for the master bedroom snatching his shirt off to trade it out. While he searched for one, he heard soft footsteps in the walk in closet behind him.

"You home to play, Daddy?"

A smile on his face, he turned towards his daughter bending down to her level. He opened his arms for her to run into and kissed her forehead.

"Not yet, Treasure. Daddy's got to go do something for Uncle Vinny."

Treasure squealed at the mention of her uncle. No matter how hard his family tried to act, Treasure melted that hard exterior all the way off.

"Kay, Daddy. Sleepover tonight?" She asked holding his face in her small hands.

"Yeah, sure thing. Go play, I'll be back."

Mitch watched her run off, laughing before he turned back around going through his shirts. Counting to ten, Mitch made it to eight before he heard another set of footsteps. As he pulled the black, quarter sleeve shirt over his head he felt hands at his back.

"You wanna have a sleepover, too?" Mitch joked.

"That's how we got Treasure and this one here."

Mitch's longtime girlfriend, Alaina, stepped in front of him as best she could with her seven month belly in between them. He brought his large hands to her belly, searching for their baby's movement.

"Well, you know where to find us if you change your mind," he said winking down at her.

"Where are you going? I'm gonna cook."

"Uncle Vinny asked me to do something for em. Go ahead and cook, I'll be back in a few hours."

Alaina rolled her eyes as he stepped away going to his side of the closet where his safe was. Mitch knew she was going to say something but he also knew he couldn't tell his uncle no. That kid had tried to kill his uncle, it wasn't going unhandled.

"Something like what?" She asked watching him go through his safe.

"It's best if you don't know, alright? I gotta do this."

"You don't have to do shit, Mitch, but stay here and be here for our kids and me. That's it!"

Mitch pulled his protection from the safe, securing the silencer on the nozzle. He could feel Alaina's eyes on him but he ignored them and tucked the gun away in his waistband.

"Calm down, Lainey. You're gonna upset the baby, he don't need that." Mitch stated calmly.

"He don't need you in the streets doing your uncle's dirty work either. We both said we would stay away from our family's shit or di you not remember that?"

"If he had tried to kill your father, your uncle or brother would you not did this for them?" Mitch asked coming close to her.

"No, because not matter how bad I would want to I would remember that I have kids that need me and you wouldn't let me out the house, " she sassed folding her arms across her chest.

He sighed, placing a kiss to her forehead. "Just let me hands this. It'll be the first and last thing I do. I promise."

"This isn't the last. You know your family just like I do. If you do this I can't promise you that Treasure, this baby and me will still be here, Mitch."

"Cool it, Alaina. You and my kids are staying right where you are. I'm gonna handle this and then I'm gonna come home so Treasure and I can have our sleepover. Period."

"Oh yeah, that's great. You're gonna blow someone's head off then come cuddle with your daughter. Do you hear yourself right now?" She asked pushing his chest angrily.

Mitch grabbed her hand bringing it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. They held each other's stare until she looked away holding back tears.

"Please just let me do this for Vinny. He's my favorite uncle, yours too. I'm gonna go to the bar, get the info and go see about him then come home."

"If he's not home, " she asked softly.

"Then I'll go see his family. They'll get him the message and them I'll have him. Simple."

She sighed, her forehead against his stomach. Inhaling several times, Alaina stared back up at him.

"Do it, come home and be done. Clear?"

"Crystal, baby."

They kissed, slowly before moving away from their embrace. Mitch dropped to one knee to kiss her swollen belly. The couple walked out of the closet, the bedroom and to Treasure's room. He said his see you later to his babygirl then headed for the door. Alaina stood in the doorway, watching Mitch walk to his car.

"Mitchell," she called out softly.

"Lainey," he called back standing with the driver door open.

"If you go see his family, whoever they are, please don't hurt his mom if he's got one. Leave her and any other woman out of it."

"You know me better than that," he winked. "Get on the house and lock the doors, beautiful."

Doing what he said, Alaina headed for the kitchen to make their dinner. She rubbed over her belly thinking of something to cook.

"Guess your daddy is a Malone again."

@kayah16

#have and have nots #brett davis #ashley love mills

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getitinbusan · 5 years

Text

Concert Fuck: JK

I Just Found Last Years Journal Entry.

Writing Saturdays entry on Sunday night because the most unreal shit just happened.

September 29 2018

Grace asked me last minute if I wanted to go to the BTS show because Ellie couldn't afford her ticket anymore. I wouldn't say I'm a huge KPOP fan but the guys from BTS are pretty fucking hot so I said sure. The tickets we had were P2s left stage section 18 row 5, not bad but if I'm going to go out I'm going to go big. I told Grace that I think we could do better, I still owed her a belated birthday present so I told her I'd get us upgrades. When we got to Prudential Center I looked for a dirt bag scalper and traded our tickets and $200 for floors. Once we got in, because it was general admission the front was already packed. So… because I always need to have the best, I walked up the aisle to the front and chose the most desperate looking security I could flirt with. The idiot really thought I was into him, which backfired because he just wanted to power trip and keep us there talking to him. Luckily one of the BTS crew was listening in and he came over to the rail to talk to us. I told him I'd do whatever I needed to do to get the best seats. He opened the gate and let us in to the side section reserved for special guests, explaining that this is where the guys would "pick from."

So… cool, just flirting got us great seats and the potential to fuck one of the members. Not going to lie, the concert was great. Even though I would have gladly taken any of them, I found myself watching Jungkook all night. Maybe because I was fixated on him, he noticed? I swear he kept looking over, flirting with me. They were doing their ending ments when the same security guard who let us in came over. He pulled me to the side and told me that Jungkook wanted to meet me and if it was going to happen, I'd have to leave now. So.. at this point I basically had to choose between Grace and fucking Kookie?? Luckily I have a pretty cool friend and she insisted that I take the opportunity. As security is leading me away, I look up and he licks his lips and frickin grins at me and nods. Holy Shit it was so hot.

I thought I'd just get backstage and like wait in the dressing room or something but no… there was a process. Security guy walked me through the back tunnels and explained that a car would take me to the hotel by myself. It would raise too much suspicion to leave together so he would meet me at there after the show. He gave me a key card and a pass and told me to make myself comfortable and just wait. I had to show hotel security my "special pass" to get up to the private level and it just struck me that this was a pretty formulated plan. How many girls do these guys fuck on a regular basis that there is a solid plan like this in place? I mean I don't really care, it just felt good to be in the running. When I got off the elevator the staff member waiting explained that I'd need to sign an NDA before they could let me in. So, sure, why not, who'd believe me anyways? Signed, sealed and delivered to room 913 I wasn't sure what to do with myself. Should I be naked? What's the protocol for groupie sex? There really wasn't anything to do but wait so I freshened up in the bathroom, played on my phone, snooped a little, (his clothes smelled really good).

He walked into the bathroom and took his clothes off and threw them in a pile on the floor. I really don't know when he went from cute kid to fucking man but he is all man. His whole body is FIT and his cock is PERFECTION only slightly embarrassing that he laughed at me staring at him. He got in the shower and had to ask me if I was coming, because I'm me, I had to say not yet but I hope to be soon, he liked that. When I got in behind him he praised my body, told me I had great tits and asked me to wash them so he could suck them later. Telling me to relax we helped each other lather up, you bet I fucking soaped up my hand and pumped his shaft. Once the water rinsed him off I couldn't resist flicking his tiny nipple's with my tongue, giving them little bites until he moaned. His fucking abs were hard and beautiful and I had to trace them with my tongue. He was really hard at this point so I got on my knees and sucked him with everything I had. I think I did good? At one point he had to grab the wall to keep himself steady and he moaned a lot. You know how some guys warn you, like I'm gonna cum I'm gonna cum? He's not that guy, he shot right down my throat and it was a LOT of cum. I didn't want to be the girl who fucking spits so I took it all, sorry, swallowing cum is fucking gross no matter who it comes out of. Anyway, he grabbed for my hand to help me up and kissed me, like really kissed me, hand in hair passionate tongue kiss kissed me. I'm not delusional but his lips made it feel like he really liked me.

He put soap in his hand and started rubbing between my legs. His fingers slid over my clit and opened my folds, basically using the palm of his hand to rub me off. He slid his finger in and circled it around, then pushed in another moving his mouth down my neck he started sucking my tits. My God he knows what he's doing. He was noisy and greedy and he told me he wanted me to cum on his fingers first, his face second and his dick third. So after saying that I fucking came, on the spot. He wrapped his free arm around me so I wouldn't fall while my body was doing that horribly unattractive orgasm spasm. He pulled his fingers out of me and asked if I'd ever tasted myself before. I said no because.. do people just do that?? He sucked one of his fingers off and held the other up for me so yeah I guess I know now.

I laid down and he stood for a second looking at me, his dick was twitching back to life again and he stroked himself a few times before reaching down and pushing my legs open. Face and fingers up close and personal he told me that I, or maybe my vagina? was pretty since that's what he was looking at when he made his declaration I'm not sure. His tongue was soft and relaxed and he literally had a make out session with my other lips. You know when you were young and just started to discover the concept of sex, you spent a lot of time making out and it's just dreamy and you float away in bliss at how soft and nice it feels? That, but better. He took his time and was really really good at it. When I started to moan he switched gears and went full throttle with clit sucking and pumping his fingers in me again. Mission two: cumming on his face achieved.

He stood up and asked If I wanted some water. Did I tell you how FIT he is. His hard dick just stood at attention against his abs while he opened the bottle and drank half of it. He capped it and threw it to me, like wtf is this little league you could at least hand it to me nicely. He picked up his phone and started playing some music, really good songs that I'm sure were on a playlist titled songs to fuck too. Standing back at the edge of the bed he pumped himself again then reached into a travel case on the nightstand. Pulling out some lube he held his cock out in front of him and dripped a line straight down the length. He clicked it closed with one hand and threw it back in the bag and began rubbing himself until he was coated. He moved on top of me flinging my legs open again and pushed himself in. The stretch was so good, I'd take width over length any day but luckily he had both. God, he was wet from the lube, I was wet from… everything, it felt amazing. He did that romantic thing where he pushed the hair back out of my face and looked me in the eyes and I wanted to fucking die right there. He told me I felt so good and he was going to go slow so it lasted longer, was that alright? No, nope, no fucking way Jungkook hurry up and get off me so I can leave. Pretty sure I just moaned out a yes please. He's the kind of guy that likes to kiss while he fucks which makes everything feel 100 times more pleasurable. He asked me to roll over and when I did he looped his arm under my waist and pulled me up so I was on my hands and knees, ughhh his arm muscles. He quickly pushed himself back in and the moan he let out was better than any song I've ever heard him sing. He was hot and sweaty and his pace was quicker but not hard or rough. He pulled my hair with one hand and grabbed my boob with the other. He HIT so deep and the steady stroke made me cum so hard. He did the wrap and hold again holding me still and telling me not to move, he wasn't ready to cum yet and could I take more? The man fucks like an insatiable beast and I would be an idiot to say no, so I didn't. He told me he wanted me to ride him so he could watch my tits bounce. I climbed on top of him and sank down as deep as I could go. He closed his eyes while I sat on his cock and clenched around him. He's main vocalist for a reason the moans and noises he made were beautiful and my pussy was drenched listening to him. I bounced on his cock for a solid 10 minutes before he pulled me down and started kissing me. I made sure to rub my tits across his nipples while I ground him into me and he was whining about how good it felt when I came hard AGAIN. He held me tight against him and bucked his hips up hard into me until he came inside me with such force I could feel it hit in spurts.

I wish there was more, a happier ending where he fell in love with me and asked me to join the tour but that was it. We lay there for a few minutes until he told me had had an early day tomorrow and staff would make sure I got home. He asked for my number, I'm sure as a courtesy, before he kissed me goodbye, who knows maybe… Anyway, best concert I've ever been to.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #Jungkook #Kookie #kookiesmut #kookie imagine #jeon jungkook #bts imagine #jungkook imagines #nochu #bts nochu #bts gcf #gcf #love yourself #Guk #You voted for kookie you got him #bts jk #bts jungguk

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