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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago

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Professional Oversight

Masterlist

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, power imbalance, blackmail, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are noticed for all the wrong reasons. (plus sized reader)

Characters: Helmut Zemo, Brock Rumlow

A note on reader characters:

For clarity, each reader will have a defined nickname when appearing in any installment not their own. This is Scribble.

Note: real life interrupted me

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Donkey love Waffles. Take care. 💖

You stare across the courtyard as you let the spoon stick out of your mouth. You hoped the spring would make the days seem less blurred, maybe bring some excitement to your dull life. You suck the last of the yogurt from the silver and scrape the side of the cup, scooping up the fruit bottom and cream. You savour the last bite, so overly sweet it makes your cheeks twitch.

You tap the empty cup so it makes a hollow noise. You crush it in your hand and stand to toss it in the bin just across from the bench. You sit again and wipe the spoon before you tuck it away, folding it in the kleenex to sink to the bottom of your purse. You sigh and watch a long-necked goose honk at an oblivious pedestrian.

You’re used to it. The sounds, the sights, the latent energy of the university green. You thought it would be better to eat there instead of the stuffy office break room but after a while, it’s just as boring and bleak as the old institutional walls.

You zip up your purse and checked the slender watch on your wrist. Just a little longer before you have to drag yourself back to your shared desk to answer phones and redirect lost students. You don’t hate your job only that it’s all you have. Your life is as fruitless as the used yogurt cup you just tossed away.

You wake up, eat, get ready for work, go to work, eat lunch by yourself amidst a sea of indifferent people, go back to your desk, then wait until it’s time for you to go home, and there, nothing. Just you and the evenings filled with lonely restlessness. You want to do something, anything, but you just can’t figure out what.

You aren’t an interesting person. Plain, at best, with no discernible talent. Friends never flocked to you despite your effort, even as pathetic as those were. You’re always a fleeting thought to other people. You’re kept around so long as you are useful; a study buddy, a wing woman, and occasionally, a shoulder to cry on. But there was rarely any reciprocation in those roles and never anything meaningful enough to call friendship.

You’re distracted from your existential daze by a shadow above you. You look up at the man as he smiles at you. It’s more akin to a leer. That’s odd. He’s odd. Men don’t smile at you, they barely even see you. And he surely doesn’t belong here. Too old to be a student and his jacket too casual to be a professor.

“You mind if I sit?” he asks without greeting. His tone is brusque but unconcerned.

You looked at the empty spot on the bench beside you. You hug your purse and sidle over. You shrug and mumble “sure,” but he's already sitting.

He sits with his legs wide and pushes his shoulders back. He sighs as he stretches out his broad figure. He glances around nonchalantly and leans back with his elbows over the back of the bench. You look at your watch again. What’s a few minutes early?

“You work here?” he asks before you can stand.

You blink and furrow your brow at him then glance around at the green campus. You waver on the bench. You should just walk away but you hate to be rude.

“Uh, yeah?” you answer awkwardly.

“Not that you-- you don’t look young enough to be a student, you know? I had a hard time telling, which is why I asked,” he explains as he turned his palm up, “I wasn’t meaning-- heh, well, you look like a very nice lady, is all.”

You poke your tongue out between your lips and quickly retract it. Your thoughts are racing. You should get back to work and away from this man. He gives you this creepy crawly feeling.

“Brock,” he holds out his hand as your eyes graze the dark five o’clock shadow along his sharp jawline.

You force out your own name and nervously shake his hand. You’re polite, perhaps overly so, but your customer service instinct can’t be repressed. His grip is firm and his hand big enough to cover yours entirely. He lets you go reluctantly and you hook your purse over your arm.

“Sorry, I gotta get back to work--” you stand as the sirens in your head tell you to leave. His grips speckles in your hands, throbbing in the bones, tingling on your skin.

“That’s too bad,” he says coolly, “maybe I’ll see you around.”

You nod dumbly and step past him. You trod down the path, on your usual route, then stop as your suspicions tug at your mind. You turn back as he remains on the bench, his gaze stuck to you.

“You work here too?” you call back.

He shakes his head and smirks. He doesn’t say anything as you frown. He doesn’t move. He just watches. You turned back to your path and quickly stomp away. You’re unsettled by his presence alone but his assured calmness at being an intruder on campus is even more frightening. Not least of all, his interest in you; always an unexpected trait.

🖊️

After work, you walk across campus without urgency. You fall into autopilot. Your departure trails over its usual route. There’s nothing special awaiting you at your destination; only your couch and a frozen pizza.

Students still loiter and hop up the steps of the buildings on the way to evening classes. You envy them just as you had when you were in their shoes. You were never really one of them. You always felt like you were on the outside looking in. You didn’t find your niche, you just floated along untethered, still lost in the breeze.

The lot you park in is mostly empty. You prefer that one even though it’s a ten minute walk from the building you work in. It’s far from the main row and so you didn’t get caught in a jam on your way out, not until you get to the roundabout near the east entrance.

You stroll along behind the few other cars parked before yours and check your phone for the time. You don’t hear the footsteps as they approach and the dimming sky disguises his shadow. You don't notice any of it until you’re grappled from behind. You’re taken off your feet as a large hand covers your mouth.

Your phone bounces against the tarmac and your bag is flung from your arm. You kick out and flail, whining into the calloused palm as your eyes prickle. You grasp at the thick arms as you’re spun around to face the open trunk. You kicked at the man’s feet as he bends you and shoves you headfirst into the trunk. You try to push yourself out but he’s too strong.

The lid shuts and you roll over to beat on it as you holler. Your heart pounds in your ears and your lungs burned as your voice turns to horrible gasps. Panic drowns you as the engine turns over and the car backs out smoothly.

Oh no, no, no. This can’t be happening.

The suddenness of it all has you dizzy. The man’s scent clings in your nose. You've smelled that before. Your eyes round in the darkness as the tires roll without stopping. No, no, no. That man! The same one on the bench.

You didn’t forget him. You couldn’t. The abnormality, the absurdity of his introduction, was enough to stick in your head. It’s only that you didn’t let yourself believe it was anything but a strange encounter. You know who you are, you know you’re nothing special. Unlike him, you’re not interesting enough to remember.

Or so you thought.

You thump on the lid of the trunk, then the back, screaming. The car doesn’t stop. The man only muffles your voice with the radio. As you continue your assault on the walls of the trunk, he slams on the brakes so that you roll violently into the siding. He does the same several times until you’re quiet and stunned.

Your adrenaline fades to fear as you can only lay in the dark and dread what comes next. The worst scenarios race through your mind but every now and then, your heartbeat spikes again. You have to get out.

Bang, bang, bang, ‘let me out!’

You’re shaken and exhausted but utterly and painfully awake. Whatever comes next, you can’t just put your head down and ignore it. Not like everything else in your life. This is the one thing you have to face, whether you like it or not. You can’t just brush it off, you can’t just forget.

You wanted desperately for something to happen in your dull life but could never conjure a nightmare as real as this.

🖊️

When the engine slows and the axle lurches to a stop, you’re not ready. How could you be ready for any of this? You don’t understand why this is happening to you.

The car shuts off and your heart reaches its paramount. It’s beating so fast you can’t think. You can barely breathe. The car door slams shut and shakes the entire vehicle, making clear that you are overpowered. Footsteps tread over the ground towards the trunk and you steel yourself for the horror that awaits you.

You know his face before you see it. Even as the shadows swallow up his features, you know him. He grabs you by the front of your blazer, hauling you out without a word. He handles you like a stray caught; rough and agitated. You claw helplessly at him and whine.

“Please--”

“Scream one more time,” he spins you and curls an arm around your neck, marching you forward with stunted steps, “and I’ll crush your throat.”

You gurgle and clasp onto hit thick forearm. Your tears well over, though your face is already raw from the waves of terror that poured over in the black of the trunk. Lights wash over you and give some sense to the grounds around you.

You expect an abandoned warehouse or some faraway cabin. Somewhere remote where you’ll never be found. Somewhere you’d be forgotten. Who is there to forget you?

Instead, you make your way up a long walkway before a large mansion. At least compared to your box apartment, it seems as such. Your low heels clack shakingly as the man keeps you firmly hooked. He takes you up the front steps, between replicas of famous status, and lets himself in through the double doors, the brass knockers jiggling with his entrance.

He doesn’t seem the type to live in a place like this. The thought is silly given your circumstance. Your sobs settle to hiccups as your mind wanders to the tedious and unimportant. Is that a genuine Rembrandt on the wall?

“Can you walk on your own or do I keep the leash on?” He snarls.

You gulp and try to nod against his burly muscle, “yes...”

He lets go at the wisp of your agreement. You shudder and pull away from him, not far as you don’t want to instigate him. You cross your arms and look at him, pouting as tears roll to your chin. It is the man from the bench. You knew it but now you’re certain.

“Up,” he points to the left branch of the double staircase.

“Sir, please, why are you doing this--”

“Sir?” He grimaces, “no questions. Just go.”

You snivel and put your head down. You turn stiffly to the staircase and reach for the curled banister. You climb with dread heavy in your heels. Your shoe slips off and you stumble. He growls and lifts you under your shoulders, dragging you up the last few steps.

“Left. Second door on your right,” he commands.

You whimper and hug yourself again. You obey as peruse along the finely decorated walls. The details assure you that whoever’s home this is has a precise eye. There is some familiarity in the style; it reminds you of some of the offices nestled in the heart of the university.

He reaches around you, crowding you against the door as he turns the handle. His breath scalds down your neck. Is he smelling you?

He pushes the door open and snaps his fingers. You enter and look around for an answer. Why are you here? Who has brought you here?

The leather chair behind the desk has its back to you. You can see a man’s dark hair above it. Like some sort of movie, he turns to face you slowly. You unwittingly step back against the other man as you’re struck by the reveal.

“Ah, I was starting to think you got lost,” Helmut Zemo intones as his latent gaze meets your startled one.

His soft brown hair with wisp of silver, the keen way his lips naturally curve, and his dark eyes. He's unmistakable. The vaunted dean of linguistics and language studies is the last face you expect to see.

“Dean?” You murmur dumbly and chuff out several shallow breaths.

“Hello, darling,” he purrs as he sits forward, putting his elbows on his desk, “I trust you had a safe journey.”

“I-- what?” You gasp. You turn to look at the man prowling behind you. “No, he--” you choke as he snarls at you.

You face the dean again. It doesn’t make sense. Why are you here at the dean’s home? You only really know him by his likeness, pasted on every literary publication on campus and hung in the halls across his faculty. You’ve met him once at some lunch but it was that fleeting formal introduction you forget before you’ve even left the event.

“Rumlow, I told you to be gentle with her,” he tuts and shakes his head, “allow me to apologise for my colleagues behaviour. He isn’t the type for sorries.”

You mop your cheeks with your cuffs and sniffle. Your a shaking mess. The other man paces towards the other side of the room. He uncaps the decanter there and pours himself a glass of dark liquor.

“Now, it is rude to serve oneself before a lady,” Zemo snips, “please, she would do well for it.” He turns to you after reproaching his associate; the man he calls Rumlow. “Sit, dear, let us speak civilly before things get... less civil.”

You suck in a quaking breath, “I don’t understand--”

“Sit and I shall explain,” he insists.

You cross the large study and claim the seat across from him. The other man approaches and holds a glass of flat scotch under your nose. The roiling alcohol fumes and makes your eyes water anew. You accept it he loudly slurps his own.

“Thank you, but I...”

“Drink. I believe you will need it.”

The dean’s words draw your attention back to him. You make yourself sip and scrunch up your nose at the taste. You don’t drink. It only gives you a headache.

“Now, I’ve brought you hear because I would like to review your work,” he smirks and goosebumps raise on your skin. Rumlow looms close as Zemo’s tone puts you on edge. “I do enjoy when university staff are so eager to put their work out there.”

You’re confused. What does he mean? You’re not a PhD, you’re no faculty spending hours writing papers on physics, you’re just a registrar’s assistant.

“Ahem, let me just...” he pauses and unfolds a tablet on the desk. He props it up in the case and pulls his glasses down to his nose. He taps the screen and begins to read, “'You can hardly believe it’s real. That you’ve put yourself in this position. There’s no going back now. There is no escape from this man...'” he pauses and looks up at you, waiting for a reaction. Your spine tingles, “let me go on to my favourite passage,” he refocuses on the tablet, “’his rough hands grazed her soft skin, making her shiver, making her whine. He smothers her protests and her breath as he drowns her in a hungry kiss”.”

Again he looks at you. You sink down in chair and turn your attention to the liquor. Oh no. You make yourself drink. You don’t stop until it’s empty. The other man laughs.

“You have a way with prose,” Zemo praises.

“Please,” you choke through the burn, “I... its just stories. They’re meant to be private. It’s...” you bite your lower lip. It still doesn’t make sense. “Why am I here?”

Now both men laugh. You’re the joke. You look between then. Rumlow approaches and you shy away. He takes the empty glass and walks away with it. He clinks it down with his own on the oak bar.

Zemo watches you intently. You rock in the chair. He could’ve fired you in the office, so what is all this?

“I like your hypotheses,” he slithers, “I thought we might test them out. As is the academic way.”

“What?” You pulses thumps in your temples, “what do you--”

Rumlow startles you as he closes his hands around your neck from behind. He hushes you as he squeezes your yipe into a croak. He drags you up to your feet as you writhe and kick out. One of your shoes falls off in your struggle as he lurches you forward.

“You know, fantasy can be such a good outlet for... self-discovery,” the dean stands as his chair rolls out behind him, “but it pales in comparison to the real thing.”

“Please--” you crackle out of your throat as Rumlow squeezes your neck tighter.

“And reality is a writer’s companion. Their work is always better when they have experience to draw on,” he comes around the desk as Rumlow brings you to face him. You can’t help but press yourself to the other man as the dean closes in. “And a creature like you, you’ve never felt desired. That much is clear. It drips from your words. These stories are a plea for more.”

He runs his fingers up the lapel of your blazer and urges it down your shoulders and arms. You quiver as you’re trapped between the two men. You can only stare wide-eyed as you reach back weakly to claw at the bigger man’s jacket. He growls and you quickly retract.

“Now, darling, the fear will only make it all the more... exciting,” he draws out the last word teasingly, “have you not written this one already?”

You whimper as he unbuttons your blouse. You quake as he bares you plain white bra and you quivering stomach. The other man pushes his crotch to you, grinding with a snarl.

“Ah, Rumlow, patience,” Zemo warns as he peels your blouse down your arms, “my colleague can be rather... impulsive.”

Your head swells and spins. This can’t be real. You just can’t believe it. The humiliation of being found out is burned through by the fear coursing in your veins.

“Please,” you eke out again.

“Shhh,” he presses a finger to your lips and toys with the bottom one. “Mmm,” he turns his hand to frame your mouth, “how has no one ever noticed these pretty lips?”

He leans in and kisses you. The other man moves a hand to the back of your neck, pinching so you squirm. Rumlow’s other hand hooks around to cover one side your chest, kneading through the unlined cup as you’re suffocated by Zemo’s mouth.

Zemo purrs and draws back. He licks his lips and hums again. His fingertips crawl down your sides and across your stomach. You squeak and flinch as Rumlow squeezes your neck harder.

“Darling, you can be good, can’t you? I fear you’ve been for too long,” Zemo taunts, “but can my associate let you go? Might we trust that you are to struck with lust that you cannot possibly flee?”

You suck in air and babble. You only want the pain to stop. You nod, “yes...”

“Yes, Dean,” he corrects and sends a look to Rumlow.

The vice falls away from your neck, instead tugging at the hook of your bra. Zemo’s gaze falls to your tits and he purrs. He fondles you brazenly, running his thumbs over your nipples as the point through the thin fabric.

“So plain one must appreciate the simple beauty,” he squeezes and leans in to kiss along your cleavage.

You bra slackens and he lets go to let it slip down. Rumlow untangle it from your arm as Zemo gropes one side of your chest and seals his lips around your nipple. You moan and the air turns static at the vocal betrayal.

Rumlow laughs and his hand spreads across the other side of your chest. He rolls your nipple harshly, tweaking as you whine. His hand falls down and he feels along your saft tummy. He growls as he slaps your ass with his other hand. You jolt and Zemo’s mouth pops off your tit.

“Delectable,” he snarls and gives a nip to your flesh.

Rumlow yanks down the elastic of your plain slacks. The cheap sort you order online. Your panties slip down halfway as he forces the fabric past your thighs. You reach to brace Zemo’s shoulder without thinking, feeling as if you might tip over.

He touches your elbow as he bends to once more teethe and tease your tits. He bounces them then crushes his face between them. You stare down in shock, still paralysed in disbelief.

Rumlow rolls your panties down your ass, your ankles bound up in the gathered wool and cotton. He shifts and lowers himself to his knees. He covers your ass with his large hands and you waver on your feet. He pulls your cheeks apart and snarls again. The man sounds like an animal.

You yelp as he pushes his face into your ass and his tongue swipes along your tight hole. Oh god! Oh! Your muscles knot and coil and you hug Zemo’s head to keep from tipping between them. You reach one arm back as you arch your back and latch onto the other man’s shoulder.

You drone out a startled but sultry moan. It’s unlike anything you’ve felt before. You haven’t felt this before. Another’s touch. Another’s hunger. You puff out shallow gasp as you’re caught in the storm of warring sensations. Your fear dissipates as you’re overcome by the slow build of please.

You close your eyes as you try to pretend it’s just one of your stories. One of the many written fantasies you used to tamp down that need for desire. For this! Even alone, even your own touch, could not ease the longing that needles inside you.

“Darling,” Zemo growls as he kneels in turn and grips your hips, doting on your stomach. He makes your imperfections feel perfect as he worships you with his mouth.

Rumlow lets out another growl as he laps and his finger tickles up to meet his tongue. You squeal as he pokes his fingertip inside of you, the scalding intrusion tingling in your thighs. It hurts but in a way that you want more. Without a thought, you lean back, urging him deeper into your ass.

Zemo traces along your pelvis and over the patch of curly hair. His fingers wander between your legs, nudge them apart and he toys with your clit. You quiver as he rolls over your bud, flicking and swirling as you slicken. You feel the blood swelling at his touch.

He leans forward on the heel of one hand and tilts his head up, delving into your folds. He trails his hand down your thigh and sucks on your clit as he purrs. Rumlow pulls his finger in and out of your ass as you tighten around him, your walls pulse at their duality.

Your stomach coils and your insides ripple. A tightness bounds you up as you puff out heavily and spasm through the sudden release of tension. You grip Zemo’s hair, forgetting the man has more than a physical hold over you, your other hand curling on Rumlow’s shoulder. You cum with a warbling yawl as you throw your head back.

Neither man stops until you’re a shaking mess. Until your legs are so slack that you lean back on the man behind you and your whole body threatens to fold over. Rumlow slides his finger free and Zemo wipes his wet lips up your pelvis before he sits back on his heels.

The move you as you pant loudly. You have no strength left to resist them. You’re strewn across the leather chaise that sits mirror to the desk at the other end of the room. The men circle you as your head lolls and you lay naked but for one heel still on your foot.

They undress without a word between them. It’s clear this is planned. That they have every single second of the night calculated. You can only get through it.

As Zemo reveals his furry chest, your cheeks raze with fire. You’re embarrassed more to see the dean like this than for him to see you. You turn your face away only as Rumlow stands even more bare.

His chest is covered in coarse black hair that trails down to his pelvis. You gasp at the sight of his rigid length bobbing before him. His thighs are corded with thick muscle and his stomach tightens as he steps closer.

Your turn your head again and nearly squeal at Zemo. Slighter than the other man he is no less eager to have you. As he nears, you curl into yourself.

They don’t let you disappear or detach. Rumlow grabs you, lifting you off the leather, and takes your places across the chaise.

Zemo guides you, something in his hand. You can’t keep up with any of it. He turns you to face the other man, nestling his chin into your shoulder as he holds himself flush with you. He sways you and he presses the shape between the top of your cheeks and squirts coolness down your ass.

He tosses the bottle onto the chaise and it bounces to rest at the end. He rubs the lube around your hole and dips his fingers in, once, twice, three times. He nuzzles you and moves you closer to the leather bench.

Rumlow reaches for you. Both men guide you over his prone body. You’re made to straddle him with your back to him. He grips his dick and taps the tip on your ass, sliding between your cheeks as he wets himself with the lube. Zemo grabs it and reaches around you. Another squirt adds to the wetness.

Rumlow pushes his tip against your ring. You yelp and try to pull away. He grabs your shoulder and holds you in place, stretching you around him slowly. You shake at the deep and fervent agony that radiates up your back.

Zemo coos at you as he strokes your cheek. He climbs up on the chaise as Rumlow drops his legs over the sides. He sits before you, coaxing you as the other man eases you onto his dick. You grit your teeth and cling to the dean’s wrists as he kisses your forehead.

“It’s alright, darling, you’re doing good,” he praises and pets your head, “just a little more, mm?” You sink down another inch and whimper, “a little more,” he repeats. When at last you bottom out, tears spring fresh down your face. “Very good, darling.”

“She’s tight,” Rumlow snarls and starts to rock you, “holy shit, she’s fucking--”

“Language,” Zemo girds as he continues to stroke your face, “you hear that, darling? You are so good. Hm? He likes you.”

“Weirdo,” Brock mutters but keeps you moving.

Zemo runs a hand down your body. A tide rolls through you at the soft graze of flesh, and he once more finds your clit. You’re overly sensitive and so full already. He toys with you as you pout out shallow pants. He slowly lays you back as Rumlow takes you across his torso.

Zemo dips his fingers into your cunt and out again, smearing around your slickness. As his eyes fixate on your cunt, you close your own, hiding beneath your lids. The other man continues to rock from beneath you, stretching you to your limit.

As Zemo drags his hand from your cunt, the chaise shifts with his weight. He moves closer, draping your legs around him as he slides his tip along your entrance. He pushes along your folds, wetting himself as you quiver, then aligns himself again. He forces his tip inside, just the head, and lingers.

He raises himself and bends over you as your muscles tug with tension. Rumlow grunts from below as Zemo bends over to kiss you and inches further inside. You nearly cough into his mouth as he gets deeper and deeper. Oh, god, you don’t know if you can take it.

Rumlow brings his hands around to kneads your tits, his hips tilting as the other bottoms out in your cunt. They both groan as if they can fill your fullness. You throw your arms around Zemo and gnash your teeth, mewling and moaning as you sink your nails into his back.

He kisses along your chin and cheeks as he starts to thrust. Long, languid, and calm. It has you on fire as the other man matches his tempo. A torturous teasing rhythm that has you writhing and whimpering.

You’re crushed between them, bodies sweaty and sticking, the friction of hair and skin, of saliva and need. Your head lolls as Zemo nips and sucks as Zemo nips and sucks at your throat, a hand snaking under your ass, basking in the feel of you as nails graze tender flesh.

A roughness from below as Rumlow bucks his hips harder, plunging deeper, breathing across your scalp as he grunts and growls. His pinches and gropes your chest as your spine curves wantingly. You succumb to your basest desires, to the fantasies you fall asleep to, the very same that you put to paper. It’s horrid but it’s oh so delightful, being used and bruised and tortured until you just can’t think.

“That’s it, darling, you see how natural it is,” Zemo purrs as he quickens, “how you give yourself over to your purpose. You always knew you would...” he speaks between stolid groans, “those weren’t only stories...” he cradles your head and lifts it, looking deep into your eyes as he ruts into you, the man below you matching his time, “you were begging for this.”

Your eyes roll back and you cum again. You feel something inside you snap, like a dam breaking with the pressure of a deluge, you gush out around the men, squeezing and twitching until you are hollow. Yet they don’t stop. They keep going.

Rumlow sits up as Zemo moves with him, bringing you into his lap. The man behind grips your shoulder as his pelvis claps against your ass and the one before you sits back as you shake around him. He holds your head up as it threatens to wobble on your neck.

You orgasm again. Your lashes flutter, your heart too. Every part of you is pulsing. Their gristling, grinding voices storm in your skull, almost maddening as their bodies sandwich yours.

“Shittttt,” Rumlow drawls and bends his head forward, biting into your shoulder as he empties himself in you. He quakes as slows and sits back, twitching as he keeps you around him.

Zemo sighs as you feel his own release. His hips rock subtly as he cums and holds you close, his eyes roving down to watch you tremble. When at last you’re still, the tremors do not fade. He grazes his knuckles down your stomach and you moan.

“Shall we try that sweet mouth?” Zemo brushes long you lower lips.

“Fuck yeah,” Rumlow growls, causing the other man’s eyes to glint.

He might pretend to be proper but dean has proven himself just as sinister as any man; in reality or fiction alike.

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foreverisntenough · 7 months ago

Text

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series is 18+ and will contain fluff, suggestion, SMUT (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mental health struggles, eating disorder, self doubt, body image issues, daddy kink, angst, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 24- An Alexander-Arnold Angel | ‘Ours’

word count - 11 k

“Can you tell me what that is, baby?” You cooed, bouncing Teddy on your knee pointing outside through the big window. You were sat in a lounge at the airport waiting to board your flight to the United States for your wedding. Trent had gotten a private jet to take you to New York. He figured if you had ever taken an important trip it would be this one so flying private seemed like the thing to do.

“Aib pla!” Teddy yelled the jumbled words. You giggled and shushed her loud outburst. You pulled her by her pudgy tummy back into you more. You leaned around her and kissed her chubby cheek.

“Yeah, Ted. That’s an airplane. You’re so smart. Do you like going on planes, baby bear?” Trent asked Teddy, sharing the same laugh you did hearing her excitedly squeal in a fairly quiet room. She shrugged, not sure if she did or maybe she didn’t understand his question. To her credit the last time she flew, she probably didn’t even remember the experience all that well. You wondered how good her memory was and if she would remember going to New York at all.

“I think you do. You’re such a good flyer, baby. Do you know where we’re going?” You picked up her hands and tried to wipe them clean from the yogurt she had been eating. It seemed to have gotten just about everywhere but in her mouth.

“Pop pops.” She murmured out to you now deciding that after her snack and all the questions she was tired and needed a cuddle. She was referring to your dad. That’s what you had landed on calling him. You wiped her hands and pulled her into your arms situating her on your chest.

“Yeah, we’re going to see pop pop, mum mum, Laur, and Win Win too. Aren’t you so excited?” You asked her. Trent was listening to your conversation and ran his hand over her hair before kissing her head.

“Ted, do you know what else we’re going to do?” Trent asked Teddy cupping her cheek and turning her head a little for her to look at him.

“Nos dada.” She sleepily cooed trying to wrangle away and get her face back to its place tucked into the nape of your neck.

“Me and mummy are going to get married. Give mummy a big kiss like this…Mwah!” Trent messed about pulling your face into his, kissing your lips dramatically with the ‘mwah’ sound Teddy still loved. She giggled with a ‘dada’ grabbing for him and pushing her lips out for a kiss of her own from him. “Going to have a big party as well. You can wear your pretty dress like mummy too. Will you dance with daddy?” He asked her with a smiley pout seeing how tired she was. He was hoping that he could make her happy by asking her a silly question and bringing up the dress she had been really excited to wear.

“Is dada even going to dance?” Your brow furrowed with a smirk mocking Trent’s usual indifference for dancing. He rolled his eyes at your smart remark. You giggled a little. Trent didn’t like to dance. He’d do it for you though. He’d hold you tight to him and whisper in your ear. Frankly, you liked the way he did dance. It was always a heated moment and typically turned fairly intimate following. Opposing that, you thought him dancing with Teddy would be the cutest thing in the world so you didn’t mean to tease too much.

“Yeah, well I want to dance with my Ted. Maybe I don’t want to dance with you.” He quipped with a bit of bite and a devilish smirk. Teddy giggled, bringing herself more upright to grab his face with her tiny hands again.

“Aww that makes me sad. Please daddy.” You whined while you dramatically pouted at him. You had a short first dance planned but it was more of an intimate thing for the wedding day. The idea of your two favorite people sharing a dance as well was precious. He rolled his eyes and kissed you before returning his attention to your daughter.

You still had a bit of time before you boarded so you plopped Teddy on the ground with a piece of paper and some crayons to color. You leaned back and got comfortable. Trent moved over to the seat directly next to you on a couch. The cushion sank as he shifted closer. He moved his hand and placed his fingers under your chin to turn you to face him. He kissed your lips but was quick to pull away to lean down to Teddy to ask her what she was coloring. You frowned at him though wishing he gave you a longer kiss. He flicked his eyes back up to you and flashed you a smug grin with a wink.

“Baby bear, what are you drawing?” He asked Teddy, as she furiously scribbled with a blue crayon. Just a bunch of swirls and circley shapes.

“Doggies!” She told him very seriously focused on her paper. She stuck her tongue out into the corner of her mouth like Trent did when he concentrated. Trent hummed inspecting her work with a little laugh. A little while and a couple scribbles of dogs later, you needed to board.

“Good girl! Look how nicely you did! Can you pack up your crayons for me, Teddy girl?” You cooed getting your own things packed up. She very carefully put each crayon back in its original place. Trent stood above her patiently letting her do it as she liked. A very clear sign that she was maybe inheriting some of your predisposed organization. Trent gave you a smug grin and cheeky laugh seeing your daughter’s resemblance to you shine through.

“Can I give you a kiss, beautiful?” Trent asked, holding your hand on the tarmac before you boarded the plane. You giggled and squeezed his hand.

“You don’t have to ask.” You turned towards him, moving your lips towards his. He laughed and his smile almost made you stutter. It made even the gray cold summer weather in the summer in England feel like it was bright sun.

“I gotta ask, don’t I? Consent is what good guys do, no? I want you to marry me in a couple days. I’m trying to not mess up.” He cooed with a smirk. You shook your head.

“Can you just kiss me? Now I’ve been waiting too long.” You complained. He gave you a devastating grin. He pressed his lips to yours and you shut your eyes in bliss. You boarded the flight and settled in a seat with Teddy while Trent brought your carry ons aboard. You scrolled through your phone calendar before the plane took off. You flicked through your packed schedule for the next few days and then just jumped ahead for a little to check the exact date of when you needed to schedule your next nail appointment for ahead of your flight for your honeymoon and then the exact date that Trent was scheduled to leave for preseason. It was a little crazy that he’d be leaving for preseason as your husband, he’d be leaving you as his wife, it was just a little unfortunate that date was as soon as it was.

“You know I heard there is going to be a very good looking boy at Liverpool’s preseason this year.” You cooed cheekily, picking up your gaze from your phone and to Trent finally taking his seat.

“Oh yeah?” Trent sent a smirk your way and your heart faltered but you were trying to flirt a little.

“I think his name is Trent Alexander-Arnold.” You giggled with a little smile as your lips turned at the corners looking back at him. “Heard he’s sexy, cute too.”

“That’s me, baby.” He laughed with a wink. “Sorry to disappoint though but I’m engaged, getting married in a few days as well.” You pouted at him and whispered a curse. “I’m all hers, most beautiful fiance.” He reflected your pout back to you. You giggled at how childish this whole conversation was. “Now can my beautiful fiance let me give her a kiss now?” He laughed with you. He took your cheek in his palm. You nodded to him, fixing your gaze on his eyes. He kissed you and it was perfection. You felt the world slow. Everytime his lips were on yours as dramatic as it sounds the world just melted away. He felt like heaven each and every time.

“Do you know where we are? We’re where mummy used to live.” You cooed to a sleepy Teddy in the car from the airport to your apartment in Manhattan. She was fairly confused by your question. “When I was a little girl like you, Teddy bear. I didn’t even know daddy yet.” You giggled smushing a kiss to her cheek.

“No dada?” She asked you with her big eyes narrowing at you. You told her no. You were referring to your childhood but she didn’t seem too interested if her dad wasn’t involved. “Why mama? Lub dada.” She gave you a disgruntled disapproving face. She didn’t like the idea of you without Trent.

“I know. I love daddy as well. I just hadn’t met him yet. Not until I was a big girl.” You cooed looking at her progressively more unhappy face in her car seat.

“Dada best. Why mama?” She looked so angry at you. You couldn’t believe how similar her angry scowl looked like Trent’s. You were trying to bite back the smile.

“I think he’s the best too. That’s why we had you, cute girl. Why are you mad at me right now?” You laughed, a little taken aback that she was so annoyed.

“Ted, why are you mad at mummy?” Trent asked, trying not to laugh as well. He was smiling though. He brushed his thumb over her pout in an effort to wipe it off. It didn’t work. She stayed steadfast.

“My dada best!” She yelped moving towards Trent in her seat away from your direction. Your eyes widened that she was taking this so personally.

“Teddy, I couldn’t have known dada. We lived in different countries. What do you want me to do? I’ve known him longer than you have!” You teased squeezing her arm. She scowled at you, incredibly offended by your remark.

“No! Know dada long.” She rebutted very quickly with some real vigor.

“Yeah but not as long as mummy has.” You cooed initially with some humor in your tone. Tears began to well though in her puppy dog eyes. “Okay, okay. Come here. You’re right, baby. You’ve known daddy the longest, yeah? You and I love him the most. Daddy’s the best.” You pouted at Teddy helping her out of her car seat into your lap.

“Daddy is the best and mummy should’ve met him earlier.” Trent quipped. Teddy let out a snarky ‘yeah.’ Trent laughed giving her a gentle kiss on her identical pout. He wiped a few of her tears that had fallen.

“Okay… that’s not helpful. Thank you, T.” You gave him a glare. Him fueling her anger at you for the impossible, not meeting her soon wasn’t helping. When you finally arrived at your New York apartment, Teddy was fast asleep, her annoyance at you evaporated. Trent and you tried your best to be quiet and get her inside without waking her.

You had a few days before the first event to make sure everything was good to go and get a few beauty appointments sorted. One thing you really needed to get sorted was your raging desire to have sex again. You and Trent had foolishly decided you wouldn’t fuck until your wedding day once you arrived in New York. Something you were seriously regretting the past few days. You didn’t really pay much attention to just how often you had been having sex with him but not doing it… it had become very apparent just how frequently you did. It was the night before the welcome day, the day before your wedding, and you had reached a breaking point of horniness with Trent in bed.

“I don’t want to sleep apart tomorrow.” You whined cuddling up to him under the covers.

“How come baby?” Trent asked you quietly, pulling you into him more with a kiss to your temple.

“Because I want your hands on me.” You muffled out digging your face into his neck. You pouted your lip pushing it against his warm skin. “T, pleassseee, just touch me.” You complained as you moved his hands for him from your sides to cheekily beneath your tiny pajama shorts.

“I’m not going to loose this.” He whispered teasingly, ghosting your lips with his. He moved closer to you his cold minty breath hitting you with a dervish handsome smile smirking back at you.

“I miss you baby.” You whined again hoping you could convince him if you made him feel bad enough for keeping himself from you for the past few days.

“I’ve missed you too. I’ve been thinking about you a lot but I don’t loose I’m sorry, pretty girl.” Trent cooed. This wasn’t even a game you decided this together but you knew Trent well enough that he wasn’t going to break the pact you made and he wasn’t going to let you otherwise you would have ‘failed’ or ‘lost’ and that’s just something he didn’t want to do.

“I don’t care, I’ll loose T…” you moaned but Trent just shook his head at you. He wasn’t going to loose by you giving up. “What have you been thinking about?” You asked in an attempt to shift his mindset to all the things you’ve currently been thinking about and certainly missing.

“Mmmm.” He hummed reminiscing. “Baby, just been thinking about tasting you, kissing your neck, eating you out, sliding inside you, and I know you’ll say otherwise but playing with your ass.” He cheekily whispered in your ear. A shiver ran up your spine.

“Please.” You whined in response shutting your eyes desperately wanting him to do anything with you right now. Yes, even that. Anything. “Come here, gimme a cuddle, baby. Alexander-Arnold’s don’t lose.” He cooed,kissing on your neck.

“T.” You pouted “I hate this.” You continued to complain. Being an Alexander-Arnold didn’t sound like much fun at this very minute. You just wanted him to concede and fuck you.

“I know you do, pretty girl. You just want me to play with that pretty pussy.” He kept his voice hush, dragging his fingers under the waistband of your shorts, gliding over your smooth skin. Close but still incredibly far from where you wanted them.

“T, stopppp! Just get away from me then.” You huffed genuinely upset at your frantic state. You gave him a pouty face and tried to move away from him in the bed.

“Nah, c’mere. Just stay with me, you’ll be okay, baby.” He cooed gently pulling you into him somehow in a non sexual way but in a very loving comforting manner. He kissed the top of your head. “Soon. Promise. Trust me, you won’t have to even ask.” He whispered. You nuzzled into him, pressing your pouty lips to his neck.

You had gotten ready in your apartment and gone for a lunch earlier in the day with all your family and friends to welcome them to Manhattan. It was the day before your wedding which seemed surreal that was the case. Your mum took Teddy for you and Trent after lunch. The two of you giggled drunk off champagne stumbling back into the hotel room you two had shared the first time you ever met. In a way you felt like it was your room. You knew it so well. You clung to Trent as he fumbled the key to open the door. You had bags dropped off for you both at the hotel earlier. What was driving you crazy was the you two wouldn’t spend the night together ahead of the wedding. Needless to say you were glued to each other. It was rare spending nights apart when you didn’t have to. Trent traveled so much that spending additional nights apart was awful and avoided at all costs.

“T… are you still hungry?” You giggled probably more buzzed than you realized from lunch. Calling it a lunch was a little bit of a stretch though, you hadn’t gotten to eat all the much though because you were talking so much.

“Hungry, thirsty, and very in love with you, baby.” He cooed. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms over your chest across you. You craned your neck to the side and kissed his covered shoulder.

“Room service it is then because I need to get ready soon but I’m not leaving your side.” You kissed him again and reached your arms behind your holding his body to his.

“Usual?” He asked and you smiled, liking the fact that you had a usual and the fact that he knew it. You hummed. He ordered you two cheeseburgers, fries, and champagne. It was a dream. You sat on top of the bed you’d sadly sleep in alone tonight with your head resting on his shoulder eating and drinking, kissing and talking. Eventually you got off the bed to get dressed. Your mum had organized a dinner tonight at The Plaza. You gave tonight to your her to host. It was probably more formal than your actual wedding the following day but you’d give it to her, more her vibe then yours. It was her dream for you, to throw this sort of ornate event. That said, fancy or casual, you were about to turn put a look your mum would kill you for. You and Winnie had found a dress Moda Operandi had carried by Nensi Dojaka that was entirely see through and it was gorgeous. It was ‘white sequined’ as you described it to your mum which wasn’t a lie, you just had chosen to send her the off model photo of the dress keeping the transparency element a secret until she saw you tonight. You slipped into a sheer sequined gown in the ensuite. You pulled it on and even though you could do it yourself you slinked back into the room while Trent buttoned his shirt.

“Do you mind zipping this for me?” You cheekily asked him excited to see his reaction to your very cheeky dress.

“Oh my fucking … oh my god. Are you serious right now? Baby… holy fuck. Come here.” His jaw stayed stack as he took your hand and held it above your head for you to spin around for him. When your back was to him mid twirl he groaned seeing your ass through the material in just a Miu Miu pair of underwear maybe shorts you weren’t sure what you’d call them but they were intended to be seen.

“Do you like?” You giggled turning back around to him draping your arms over his shoulders. His eyes scanned you and Trent shook his head in disbelief. You let go and thanked him for zipping your dress and skipped back to the bathroom to put the finishing touches on your makeup.

“Erm… where do you think you’re going wearing that? Jesus, baby, you’re not leaving my side tonight.” He cooed following you into the room. His hands were quick to find their way to your covered ass. “I hate being the one that just zipped this thing up. I really should be taking this off you. Honestly, that’s all I’m going to be thinking about tonight. You rolled your eyes with a blushing smile looking back at him through the mirror. “I know you’ve probably had your outfit picked out for ages so don’t feel inclined to switch anything up for me but I did get you a little something…” He spoke quietly in your ear resting his chin on your shoulder.

“A little something like what, T?” You giggled fairly sure it would be something from Bergdorf Goodman. He snuck away from you and grabbed the all too familiar purple bag. You smiled a little bigger coming to see him with it.

“I know you wanted this for a little and couldn’t find it but I’ll find anything for you, baby. I’ll do anything to make you happy, I’ll get you anything you want.” He cooed, handing you the bag. You took it from his hesitantly, not totally sure what it would be. You unboxed a Louis Vuitton bag you’d been hunting for for ages. It was a trunk style clutch in all white.

“T… thank you, baby. I’ll wear it tonight no question. I love it and I love you more.” You cooed placing the bag on the bed carefully before giving him a sweet kiss. As you gathered your stuff to head down to the party you looked at Trent inspecting himself in the mirror. “T… why did you talk to me on the corner, you know when we met?” You cooed curious for an answer, sort of shocked you’d never asked him outright before.

“What?” He looked at you through the full length mirror but turned around to look at you properly. “I mean, baby, looks aside.” He gestured to your figure currently as you clasped your heels on. “I liked how nervous you were about your confidence.” He smiled at you.

“You liked that I was insecure?” You asked him in response with a furrowed brow. It seemed like an odd answer. It definitely wasn’t the one you probably were expecting.

“No, no.” He let out a breathy laugh. “I hated it, actually because it made no sense. I needed you to know how beautiful you were, you are, how smart you are. It was like you betrayed yourself by talking to me. You should be that confident but every time you said something you looked like you were shocked it came out of your mouth.” He kept his sweet smile as he walked towards you. He cupped your cheek and ran his thumb along your jawline. “I wanted to just make sure you knew how beautiful you are, inside, outside, and even if you didn’t want to date me, see me again, which I wasn’t keen on, you deserved to know that. You had me hooked from the jump, baby.” He cooed.

“I know you think I am.” You replied with a pouty smile thinking his reasoning was really tender.

“We’re getting there right? How beautiful, you think you are?” He cooed gently knowing this conversation was entering dicey territory. Your opinion of yourself, your own beauty was something you were working on. You nodded shyly. ”Good baby.” he winked at you and kissed your lips. You felt butterflies fill your stomach. It hadn’t really sunk in yet that this man who took such good care of you, who really truly and deeply cared about your well being above everything else was going to be yours for the rest of your life.

You went to the party and were met with an eye roll from your mum, a squeal of excitement from Lauren, kisses from Teddy, and a few jokes from Marcel. It was a very fun night. It was the perfect way to kick things off. Your anxiety though was growing as the hours of the night ticked by and faded into the morning ones of your big day. You had a tearful goodnight and goodbye to Trent holding your baby girl. You were trying not to cry but both of you crying in front of Trent probably wouldn’t have been a nice thing for him to deal with, not tonight. You managed and made your way back to the hotel room upstairs you two had shared for years. Instead of her crib you had Teddy cozied up to you cuddling in the big bed just wanted the comfort of her.

“Mama, need dada.” Teddy cooed sleepily nuzzling her face into your cleavage not being able to fall asleep without him. You had said goodnight but not in the usual fashion. Typically Trent would call if he was away. That always made her more calm and settled.

“Why baby? Mummy’s got you.” You told her quietly trying to reassure her everything was okay.

“Lub mama.” Teddy humphed out but continued squirming against you unhappily.

“Yeah, I know.” You cooed gently. “Why do you need daddy right now though?” You asked her brushing your hand over her head dragging her curls back.

“Dada tect mama and teddy.” She whimpered out. You pouted at her. It was so cute.

“Yeah, he does, he takes good care of us, right?” You looked at her adorably similar face to his, his eyes essentially reflecting back at you. It was a comfort you didn’t know you needed.

“Yeah huh, mama need.” She babbled back, cuddling into you more wrapping her arms around your neck.

“Okay, baby.” You hummed kissing the top of her head. You didn’t want to call and break the rules you had agreed upon. You had said goodnight and that was supposed to be it before you saw each other for the actual ceremony but you weren’t going to deprive Teddy of him. “We’ll text daddy. Okay? Send him a picture of us. Can you say cheese for me?” You smiled at her reaching for your phone. You took a selfie of you two tucked in bed and sent it to Trent with a message.

‘Little teddy bear misses her daddy. Says he protects her and mama. Can we have our bedtime kiss please.’

Trent was quick to respond, thankfully as you were both definitely getting tired and you, very very nervous. He sent it along with a voice note with a ‘mwah!’ And a photo of him and Teddy’s stuffed bear in bed.

‘Love my baby bear and mummy so much. My beautiful girls. Sending you the biggest hugs and kisses. Get a good sleep for me.’

“Dada where?” Teddy cooed as you left the party tonight. She was very confused why you had to say bye and split up. “I’m gonna go have a sleepover with Celly and Ty. You, mama, and Win are gonna have one, okay?” He told her with a soft smile not trying to get into the logistics of pre wedding ceremony archaic traditions you weren’t sure you even knew why you were doing. “Why?” Teddy looked back at Trent devastated. Her big eyes filling quickly with tears. You told it was okay coddling her. “Take dada. No ‘lone.” She cooed with a terribly cute pout trying to hand Trent her stuffed bear. “Aw thank you, baby. Okay, so I’llI get your beary and you get mama, that’s a fair trade off.” Trent cooed taking the floppy stuffed bear. He kissed Teddy’s forehead with a ‘thank you.’

“Look who’s already asleep with dada, Ted.” You cooed while showing her the phone after you read her the message.. Trent had tucked her little bear in the bed with him and folded the comforter over resting its head on the pillow beside him.

“Mama sleep?” Teddy asked quietly and tiredly seeing your eyes still open staring out the window looking out into the warm glow of the Manhattan night.

“Sorry, baby. I’m okay. Just thinking.” You smiled at her and gave her a kiss. Her brow furrowed, confused. Not sure what you meant so you figured if you were both awake you might as well explain. Truthfully, emotions were trashing around in your body. “You know how when you're sad, dada makes it all better. Makes you happy?” You asked her setting up her reasoning and understanding. She nodded “Well dada does that for me too. Dada makes mummy not sad anymore.” Saying it out loud made you so sentimental. You started crying trying to fight back the lump forming in your throat. Trent would wipe Teddy’s tears if she was scared of a thunderstorm or if she scraped her knee but what he’d done for you was on another scale. He really pulled you out of a really bad place. It definitely was still lingering but the light he had brought into your life was like nothing you could’ve imagined.

“Mama, no sad. Need dada?” Teddy asked you worried you were crying. She tried to wipe tears and it made your heart break. So much had happened it was so amazing you’d finally all be connected under one surname. You’d be husband and wife with your little girl. It seemed mundane but it made such a difference to you. It was such a massive deal to you.

“I’ve got you, Teddy bear. You make mama so happy, yeah?” You cooed with a sad smile kissing her sleepy pout. You pulled her tight to you and breathed her in. Your heart stilled in appreciation for what you and Trent had created. Trent and Teddy were your entire life. They meant everything to you. They really did make you happy and you couldn’t ask for anything more.

“Come with me Mrs. Alexander Arnold!! We’ve got shit to do!” Winnie quietly squealed waking you up. Your mum in the other room shook her head at Winnie’s mouth.

“Can you cuddle with Win Win?” You cooed stroking your hand over a very sleepy Teddy’s head. She cuddled closer to you but you had to peel her off. You had to wake up extra early to begin the lengthy process of getting ready for arguably the biggest day of your life. You had a lymphatic drainage appointment first, followed by your nails, then your hair, and makeup,

“C’mere, Teddy girl, you and I are gonna go snooze a little longer, yeah?” Winnie’s cooed plopping herself on the bed and pulling Teddy over to her.

“Are you gonna look pretty like mama today?” One hairstylist asked Teddy as she did her hair. She giggled a yeah as she watched her carefully part her curls. Yourself, Winnie, Lauren, Teddy and your mum all were getting ready at The Plaza and taking a helicopter out to the location of your ceremony out east.

“I have a delivery!” Lauren cooed running into the room with a gift bag and a big thing of flowers.

“I wonder who it’s from!” Winnie teased sarcastically as if it could be from anyone else but Trent. You giggled, pausing getting your hair for a moment to see what he had sent along. You scooped Teddy off the ground and sat her on your lap.

“Is it from dada? Let's see what he sent to me and you, Teddy girl.” You cooed with a big smile pressing your cheek to hers. You unwrapped two jewelry boxes with dainty gold bracelets, one for each of you, Teddy’s much smaller for her wrist, with two small diamond A letters on it. You pouted as your hairstylist helped you clasp the fine bracelet. “And what will we say to daddy?” You asked Teddy inspecting her tiny wrist new adorn with a matching bracelet. Your eyes started to fill with tears. The morning was starting to get to you.

“Tanks dada, lub most.” Teddy looked at you with her big brown eyes and a pout seeing you look so emotional. She tilted her head confused. Your mum came over and wiped under your eye with her thumb.

“No tears after makeup is finished.” Your mum spoke softly. You knew it was coming from a good place but of course it had to be about keeping your appearance up. “Isn’t that right, beautiful girl?” She cooed once more, shifting her focus to Teddy.

You stood on a slight pedestal in the middle of a grand room high up in the plaza as two stylist helped zip your wedding dress up.

“Y/N… it's perfect.” Winnie crocked out starting to cry. Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to reel back in her tears. Teddy sat on her lap in a little dress. You weren’t doing the traditional bridesmaids thing but both her and Lauren were in light pink looks. Winnie in an Alaia gown, Lauren in lace Alessandra Rich dress. You wanted it to be relaxed for everyone. High end and chic but casual materials for comfort. Not to mention it would create a moment for your dress to stand out that much more. Your dress was everything you wanted and more. You had originally found a dress in London but things changed quickly when you got word of the Oscar de La Renta column gown of your dreams was available. It was strapless not overtly white but had pearl embellishments in a scalloped pattern overlaying a sheer-ish silk fabric. It was classic but cheeky and you felt like it embodied you. When you felt the stylist zip it up you felt an odd sense of relief wash over you and your anxiety leave you, feeling more confident in your appearance than ever in this dress.

“What do you think?” You spun around with a childish grin with your arms raised for all the girls in the room to see it, you all done up for your wedding day. You had kind of run with the whole beach wedding theme choosing the scalloped pattern and pearl gown so you opted for a pair of drop pearl earrings with a hint of gold and Jimmy Choo satin sandal heels.

“Mama pwincess!” Teddy squeal shuffling off Winnie’s lap and running to you. You leaned down to her and kissed her forehead.

“Yeah? You think? What do you think dada will say?” You giggled really appreciating her compliment. That’s all you really wanted was for your daughter to think of you that way.

“Dada say booful, mama!” She cooed happily swaying back and forth in front of you, anchoring herself to you by grabbing the dress. You thought your stylists were about to have an aneurysm watching her pull on the beading but you didn’t care. You had a photographer with you all day capturing your morning which was surreal so after an hour or so of pictures you made your way to the west side to get the helicopter out to Montauk. Nerves beginning to rise once again. Lauren of course organizing champagne to be on board. Another thing organized was a little girl she had sent to Trent from you for that morning. She had somehow convinced you to do a photoshoot in the lingerie you had purchased to wear on your wedding night with him. She had gotten a bunch of them printed out and placed in glassine envelopes to sneak into his day. One in the interior pocket of his jacket. Another to find tucked under the dinner plate he’d eventually sit at, and a bunch of other sneaky places she could think of. Your favorite were probably the ones where you weren’t even in the lingerie. They were spicy, still sweet but definitely sexy and just for your husband… and Lauren because she helped you narrow down your selections. (vibes 1, 2)

‘We begin our story in New York’ was the sign at the entrance to the ceremony. You squeezed Winnie’s hand trying to not cry. Your dad met you outside Gurney's resort where all the guests had already arrived. Your mum, Winnie, and Lauren took Teddy and made their way to their seats. It was small and intimate but everyone important in your lives were there. Trent waiting anxiously for your arrival. His palms began to get clammy once he saw Teddy get plopped down in his mum's lap knowing very well that meant you were close to come walking down the aisle to him, into your marriage, into the next phase of your life.

Falling for Trent had been unexpected. You felt like your life had been a labyrinth before you ran into him on 78th Street. It was endless turns and dead ends until you found him. This unbelievably handsome, talented, intelligent, loving, man who treated you the way you deserved to be treated. He treated you like an absolute angel. When you saw him outside your apartment building for your first date you could feel your heart calm, when he held you months later a in the tunnel at Anfield, when he told you he loved you, when you moved in together, when you got pregnant, during all of these unbelievably exciting things you got to enjoy then each with the calmest of hearts, so sure he would always take care of you. He made you feel so special, so important. Out of all the amazing, incredibly important people Trent knew from around the world, he always made sure that you knew you mattered too. That you were supposed to be anywhere so purposefully. He’d squeeze your hand and your body would calm once again.

“It will be the best day of your life. Have faith.” Your dad cooed in your ear like he always did, telling you to trust and 'have faith.' Your dad stood with you before the aisle. You could feel yourself shaking. He wrapped his arm around you still holding your hand with the other. “I love you, Y/N. I’m so proud of you. I’m so honored I get to be a part of your day with Trent. Unbelievably happy that you found someone that returns all the love and joy you bring into everyone else’s lives.” He spoke softly and you began to tear. He wiped under your eyes and kissed your temple. You had a floaty feeling lingering all day but one of true comfort engulfed you with his reassurance. You stepped out into the aisle and shut your eyes gently for a moment taking a deep breath. Trent looked at you with a confident gaze at first. There was a tinge of nerves behind his eyes but his perfect pout fell into a soft comforting smile. He licked his lips in the way that he always did. You remember being awestruck by the way he looked in person the first time you met him, the way his skin gleamed in the golden sunlight the same way it did right now. It wasn’t surprising but it was more so just amazing how his looks had such an intoxicating effect on you, your wedding day was no exception.

'You needed more of him. He was intoxicating, he felt like you took a shot of liquor. You felt light headed, the world blurred around you, giggling to yourself at the feeling in your chest. What the hell was wrong with you. '

Walking down the aisle was a blur, literally and figuratively. Your eyes were filled with tears glazing over them but also the feeling walking down the floral pathway (vibes). You could smell the flowers and the salty air, you could feel the slight breeze coming off the water hitting your skin warmed by the beating sun’s rays, but you couldn’t really make anything else out but Trent at the end of it all, the bright devilishly handsome smile beaming back at you.Trent’s heart was thumping against his rib cage. Nostalgia rushing through him as he remembered the first time he saw you. You looked different today though in the best way possible. You looked older but in a mature more beautiful way. You looked less nervous but in a confident more beautiful way. You looked ethereal as your veil cascaded around you. The sunlight reflecting off the ocean water onto your skin through the cathedral length tulle around you. He definitely didn’t see it off the jump. He was focused on your stunning bronzy natural beachy made up face but the veil was embroidered with the date of your ceremony and a cheeky ‘Til’ Death Due Us Part - TAA.’ You were a vision, an angel on earth, and the love of his life. Your dress reflected and shined, it wasn’t anything like Trent was expecting. It was far better than anything he could’ve imagined. He mouthed an ‘You look beautiful’ with his waterline filling with tears. You responded with a pouty ‘I love you.’ You said your vows and in a way it felt like you could sense a shift, like there was a change in you that felt more at ease. It wasn’t a valid or genuine worry Trent would leave you but you were insecure and in some way, the fact that you were stood with him in front of your family and friends declaring your love, committing your life to one another was such a relief to you. It was like you could feel the anxiety draining from your body. You kept things fairly simple at the ceremony. You were stood on the very edge of a grassy cliff at the resort overlooking the water. You had filled the area with summer floral arrangements, bunches of green hydrangeas, coral delphiniums, pink dahlias and yellow ranunculuses. You loved the contrast of your ornate dress with the relaxed environment. You had convinced Trent to wear a double breasted light tan linen suit from Brunello Cucinelli with a white button down. He looked delicious and just perfect. You held his hands across from you bitting the inside of your lip trying not to cry as you said your vows. You didn’t read any personal sentiments aloud because you knew neither of you would be able to get through them without balling. You had written them and planned to share them with each other on your own time but they were just for you two to share. You whispered back and forth something you had placed in both your vows, a rendered snippet from Beethoven's letter ‘Immortal Beloved’ and while it sounds pretentious it was just something you had once read aloud to Trent once on a plane. It stuck and you often said it to each other.

“Forever yours.” You quietly spoke just to Trent before the anticipated moment to seal your marriage with a kiss when prompted by the officiant.

“Forever mine.” He responded the next line in a whisper.

“Forever ours.” You whispered ghosting your lips over his leaning in a little closer. Trent moved in and you sunk into his pillow lips. It was paradise on earth. Nothing would ever be better than kissing… your husband. It was affectionate, sweet and sincere, long enough that your photographer had a chance to get the best photo and the officiant to step out of the way. You turned around to look at all your family and friends, plenty of tears being shed in their seats. Teddy was sitting more quietly than you could’ve hoped on Dianne’s lap in the front row of seats clapping along with everyone else.

“C’mere, baby bear.” Trent cooed, picking up Teddy in his arms. He grabbed for your hand again, kissing your lips once more. “Happy for mummy and daddy?” He asked Teddy quietly in her ear. She nodded then reached out for your attention. You cupped her cheek and rubbed your nose against hers.

“You, me, and daddy forever, okay?” You whispered to her before kissing her lips. She giggled in Trent’s arms as you processed down the aisle as The Alexander - Arnold’s. You spent a good amount of time, maybe an hour or so taking photos just the three of you before your reception. Tears welled up in your eyes as you poorly tried to blink them away seeing photos being taken of just Trent and Teddy. They were your whole world but they were also so strikingly beautiful. Your bottom lip rolled into a pout looking on. You didn’t have to say anything Trent could read you like a book. You watched him whisper something to Teddy. He placed her on the grass and she ran to you with giggles.

“Mama! Mama!” She squealed. You bent down the best you could to her level, slightly restricted in your dress. “Piture with dada and Teddy.” She grabbed at your hand and pulled you. “Dada say pretty like mama.” She stopped the tug of your arm to twirl a little in front of you showing you her own dress she was absolutely loving being in.

“Yeah, my most beautiful girl. Mummy and Daddy’s pretty girl.” You pulled her back into you to kiss her lips and then let her run back to Trent as you followed in her wake. You had put Teddy in a fun Gucci dress. It was summer in Montauk, you didn’t want her to be uncomfortable or give her any space to be upset or complain so you had found a really fun marine motif printed smock pleated dress in creams, blues, and pinks. She really liked twirling about in it and asking everyone she could if they had seen the ‘fwish’ on it which was adorable of course. Her hair brushed tight and slicked into a bun with a few ringlets escaping.

Your guests found their way and funneled over to the back garden overlooking the sea at your parent’s estate. You had one long table scape for all your guests for the dinner portion that lined and ran directly along the edge of the property next to the water’s edge. It had the same wildflower arrangements like those from the ceremony on the table’s runner. It was earthy and calm, natural and relaxed but of course you needed to change looks for the reception. You weren’t going to wear just one dress on your big day. You switched into a Tom Ford crochet knit dress. It was more laid back. Although it definitely didn’t feel all that relaxed to Trent.

“You need to stop looking so good or I’m going to have to make you leave our own wedding.” Tried cheekily cooed wrapping his arms low around your waist pulling your body flush against his. “You’ve been teasing me all day. Those sneaky pictures were unfair, baby. Can’t see my wife looking like that and expect me to behave.” He whispered closer to your ear.

“T… I am counting down the minutes until you take me out of the dress.” You giggled whispering back to him. “You didn’t like the photos? I thought my husband would want to see me like that only for him.” You sarcastically joked quietly to him. He hummed with some distain kissing your temple. You were in fact dreaming of Trent peeling your dress off, you wanted to rile him up with all the seductive photos you had left for him. You were desperate to get back into bed with him but for now you had your wedding to celebrate. You sat in a chair next to Trent with Teddy on your knee as Winnie got up to speak. You’d be lying if you weren’t a little nervous for what she was going to say. She introduced herself and began, your heart racing.

“Erm… growing up with Y/N was a mixed bag. She was and is my best friend but constantly being compared to the most perfect person on earth gets old quick but I imagine Marce and Ty can relate and know that feeling quite well with T. It’s one of the many many reasons there are no two people more suited. Never have two more perfect people been paired together. The envy you evoke from the entire world is completely merited and we all hate.. I mean love you for it.

"To the Alexander- Arnold boys, you are getting the best sister in the world. Somethings I know you’ve gotten a chance to come to know like you will always have the most fun and a good laugh, you will never have a bad cocktail I promise, you will always get great advise, although I’ve heard Tyler gives Y/N a run for her money in that department, and the best closet in the world to ‘borrow’ from but maybe that last bit doesn’t really apply to either of you, nevertheless she is the best sister in the world. You are inheriting one of the biggest blessings and joys of my life being related to Y/N…” Winnie continued rambling on for a little while before beginning to tell a story she wanted to share. “If you know Y/N, and I’m assuming you all do, she’s the bride.” She joked and you shook your head. “ Y/N is fairly synonymous with her best friend Lauren. They traveled a lot together and I’m not sure they every really knew where they were, I could frankly never keep up but what I did begin to notice was that a few years ago when Y/N was in England, I saw that Lauren was in Spain, when Lauren was in Amsterdam, Y/N was in England, and then oddly enough when Lauren was in Paris… Y/N was still in England. To pull them apart, it had to be something good and to be fair, I think it was.” She looked at you with a cheeky grin as you hid behind your hands embarrassed. “I just wish you had told me what was keeping you in England earlier. So in retaliation for keeping your relationship so secretive in the beginning I’m going to embarrass you but it’s my job and you should’ve known this would come up at some point, sorry.” She giggled, raising her glass to you. You shook your head with a shy grin waiting apprehensively for her to say whatever it was going to be for her to embarrass you. “I remember my jaw just about dropping through the floor into the apartment below mine when Y/N finally admitted she was seeing someone and that was why she was still in England. I figured as much but it’d be fair to say it definitely wasn’t what I was expecting. I once received a text from Y/N when she and my dad had gone to Liverpool for a match a few years prior. She sent me a cheeky picture of the man next to her right now… Yes, I have it here.” Winnie spoke and held up her phone. “Thank you, Apple for saving this as well as unearthing a lot of my embarrassing drunk texts sent in the process but I will read Y/N’s text aloud for you all. ‘I am obsessed with this boy's face.’ She sent me his instagram beneath the text to which I responded ‘wow, are you with him?’” Winnie gestured to you. “Y/N was quick to reply ‘Are you..’ Please close Teddy girl’s ears, your mum curses in the next sentence. ‘Are you fucking insane? Did you look at his instagram he plays for the club. No I’m not with him! I’d have nothing to say!!!’ Well I think you were wrong because evidently you have had plenty to say. She then sent me a photo of Trent on the pitch, just doing his job, unaware his eventual wife was in the stadium. I will skip a more crude text she had also sent.” Winnie laughed and you mouthed an ‘oh my god’ tucking your face in Trent’s neck.

“T, if you want to read, I will show you. Mum, dad, Alexander-Arnold family, I will spare you from it but moving on… I, the smart girl that I am said ‘wow, maybe you’ll get married, get dad season tickets.’ Joking of course, but coming away with the relationship you and Trent have built and the love you share is much more lucrative and valuable than any match ticket, although I know dad has been thrilled with your choice of person to fall for. To be honest, as a younger sister it was hard for me to wrap my head around Y/N moving to a new country selfishly. I had eventually met Trent a little further into the relationship and he was everything and more. T, truly you are one of my favorite people in the world, we always have a good time, you’re a terrible loser, but the best man for Y/N and an amazing father as well.I really couldn’t build a more ideal man for Y/N and I know she agrees with me. Something I know about Y/N is that she isn’t one for the spotlight but it seems to find her, I mean.. have you seen her? Regardless, I was hesitant about the whole relationship. I was scared of the lifestyle, I was scared that she’d be overlooked and under-appreciated I won't lie but there was a turning point for me that I just wanted to share quickly. Trent was visiting our house here and I heard them in the kitchen late one night. As the younger sibling I had a responsibility to eavesdrop so I listened to Trent call her an angel and I felt like he, someone, finally really understood just how amazing she is. Trent, thank you for taking care of my sister and of course my cutie niece. She is an angel and all I ask in this marriage is that you never forget or never take for granted what an angel she is.” You weren’t able to hold in your tears back anymore. Hearing Winnie begin to sniffle between her words tipped you over the edge. You kissed Teddy’s head trying not to just entirely burst into a fit. Winnie carried on a little longer with a few more jokes and well wishes. You had cut a simple sheet cake that just had the same ‘Till Death Do Us Part’ again written atop it. Your mum hated it and you adored it. The night carried on and you had the best time of your life and you were adamant about staying in the moment but you were simultaneously eager for the night to be over so you could go home with Trent, it had been far too long. You enjoyed the night partying with family and friends, Winnie was glued to Jadon, Lauren to Jude and while you were dying to hear about it all you’d have to settle to ask about them another day. As the night dwindled down you had one thing in your mind and one thing only. Your mum had taken Teddy and you were left with Trent giggling your way through the door of your room.

“Where are you going, beautiful.” Trent asked as you let go of him and scampered off into the bathroom. You giggled and shut the door into the ensuite. He wasn’t sure what you were doing but you knew that’d he’d like what you were doing. You slinked off your crochet dress and slipped into white lingerie that would make any man drool, right now, you’d hope it’d have that effect on your man.

“For my husband.” You cooed opening the door standing in its frame illuminated by the warm bathroom light. Trent’s jaw slacked just the way you had wanted it to.

“I am the luckiest man in the whole world. Holy fuck. C’mere baby.” He grinned at you. He stood up off the edge of the bed, taking both of your hands before he pulled you towards him. He sat you on the bed and leaned you backwards crawling over you. Things moved simultaneously slow and fast all at once. Before you knew it he had worked kisses down from your neck to in between your legs.

“T, oh my god baby I missed you so much.” You breathed unsteadily as he kissed the inside of your thighs before he dove nose deep into your pussy eating you out like a starved animal after your days of no sex. He was eating you out messily and you were in heaven.

“Fuck, baby. I needed this. I needed you.” He muffled out, his hot breath hitting against your wet folds covered with your juices and his spit. He played mercilessly with your pulsating clit. He was slurping you clean. Your legs were spread open for him as you gripped his hair pulling him further into you, shoving his face closer against you. The noise of it all was impossibly lewd. His plump lips latching on to your arousal. He had the cheekiest smile as he worked away, keeping his eyes flicked up to watch your face scrunch in pleasure. He dragged his tongue from your clit through your folds before he dove into your entrance, keeping his nose rubbing up and down against the sensitive nub. “Taste so fucking good, baby.”

“Please, T! Right there, oh my god.” You whined, your thighs beginning to shake. The sound of your cries making Trent grow painfully hard. He groaned into your pussy and the vibrations made you throb even more. His lips were drenched with your westness, it ran down his chin and he was loving every second of it, and to no surprise, obviously you were too. He pulled away momentarily and spit directly on your pussy, you were so sensitive even the feeling of it running down you had you whining more. You could feel your back arch involuntarily off the bed. His tongue continued to swiftly maneuver against your opening. You were so wet Trent probably could probably drown between your legs. Swiftly you felt your first orgasm of the night crash over you. He hummed kissing your sensitive clit once more pulling away with a smug grin loving the fucked out expression on your face you couldn’t wipe if you tried. He worked kisses back up your body and each one lit your skin on fire. He dragged his two fingers through your folds before brining them up for you.

“Open f’me, baby.” Trent whispered still working his kisses up you now at your neck as he brought his fingers covered in your juices and slipped them in between your lips. You moaned, swirling your tongue around his fingers sucking them like you would his cock. “Such a good girl.” He cooed removing them before he sloppily kissed you in between desperate breaths. He climbed over you once more and removed the last bit of your lingerie. “I really loved this, baby but I need to see more of you, this fucking body.” He cooed, beginning to pump his hardening cock in his hand dragging it through your wet folds.

“T, I need you inside me. Please. I want you to fuck me. I want to take all of you. Make me take you.” You begged him desperate to feel his size stretch you out again.

“I got you, baby.” He whispered, guiding his length inside of you beginning slow languid strokes. You rolled your hips up into him. He groaned feeling your hands drop from around his neck to drag your nails down his back. He looked down at you with his big mahogany eyes filled with love and laced with lust. You both moaned simultaneously as the sounds of your wet pussy squelched with every thrust stretching you out, hitting deeper and deeper. Trent bit his plump lip watching you take him. You wrapped your legs around his waist tightly pulling his body down into yours. Your foot dragged down his back. He kissed you and then pulled away with a devastatingly gorgeous smile. “You’re so perfect. So fucking beautiful.” He cooed. Trent really believed that he’d never laid eyes on anyone more beautiful than you. “God, just want to marry you all over again, want to get you pregnant again, make more babies that have the most beautiful mummy in the world.”

“T. I want that. You’re so fucking amazing. I want everything with you. I want you. I want more of you, baby. I love you so much.” You babled frantically losing your breath as he pushed your knees higher up towards your chest. His eyes flicked down at your tits as they bounced from the force of his thrusts. You moaned feeling him find that spot, the spot, the one only he knew. He dropped his head into your boobs, stuffing his face between them. Your breath hitched when you felt him drag his tongue over your nipples before latching his lips to one and then the other after. Your bodies were made for one another and you could feel that sync in pleasure. Trent propped himself up above you to watch his length glide in and out, a white ring forming around the base of his cock. It’d been hours of you sprawled for him.

“I love you so much. You’re made for me. Perfect for me. I missed this so much. Fuck you feel so good.” Trent grunted, continuing his pace, lifting your one leg over his shoulder to pound into you deeper. His thrusts growing slightly sloppier.

“Fuck me, baby. Don’t stop. Please.” You whined. Nothing could ever compare to this. Your chest heaving in and out beneath him. You looked up at him and it felt like with every thrust the more and more you fell in love with him, and the closer and closer you were getting to another orgasm.

“I promise you, beautiful I will never stop fucking you for the rest of my life.” He cooed. His eyes had a glimmer in them that made your heart flutter. You were so in love with him. He was just so pretty and right now, very sexy. The way his perfect pout was slightly agape, the way his brow creased from the pleasure from fucking you was gorgeous. Only you could make him feel like this, only your pussy. Your body was made for his pleasure. Your jaw slacked when he picked up your other leg and had both held up against his shoulders. His cock pushed so deep you could see it bulge in your stomach. He leaned forwards and kissed you. “I want to get you pregnant again, baby. Fill you up so good.” He bit your lip and pulled it.

“T, please. I need you. Cum inside me. I want I do bad. Get me pregnant again.” You begged getting wetter by the second remembering the feeling what his release inside you felt like. Trent continued to rock into your sopping wet pussy. He was so rough and yet so gentle at the same time. He brushed a piece of your hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear.

“Going to give you everything you ever want, baby.” He smiled at you, his dimples indenting in his cheeks. You reached up and cupped his face. Your eyes shut in pleasure. “Look at me, beautiful. Right here, yeah?” He asked as he continuously hit the spot he knew you loved and he could see it on your face. You opened your eyes just enough to see his smug grin. “That’s it right? This spot. You love this, baby.” The pleasure was insatiable, it was so good.

“Yeah, T. Yeah, please. You feel so good. Right there.” You whimpered out nodding desperately pulling him down for another kiss. He kissed you back passionately but you pulled away slightly. “T, baby. I’m going to cum. Feels so fucking good.” You whined as tears began to fill your eyes. “I love you so much.” You pouted up at him.

“I know, pretty girl. Doing so good f’me.” He cooed gently, taking your hand off his face and lacing it with his and pinning it above your head. Your pussy tightened around his cock and you began to kiss his neck, nibbling and biting on his most sensitive areas. You bit down towards his collarbone when he thrusted particularly harshly into you. Your back arched up more pushing your body further into his. Every movement you made had Trent doing everything in his power to not cum. He couldn’t wait to fill you up but this felt too good to stop.

“T… I’m cumming. I can’t. Oh my god, fuck!” You cried out. He collapsed further into you, his thrusts becoming more and more sloppy. You were moving in complete harmony and he couldn’t hold out any longer.

“I gotta cum baby, gonna fill you up. Get you pregnant. Fuck you feel good.” His brow furrowed as he dropped his hands to your hips with a harsh grip as he thrusted into you again and again with more precision. “Make a mess, baby. Go ahead, beautiful. Cum f’me.” He grunted and you moaned as waves and waves of white hot pleasure coursed through you. He began to slow his pace. You wrapped your hands around his strong biceps, your nails leaving crescent marks in his skin as you pulled him into you more. You whined feeling yourself drip down the inside of your thighs. A puddle beneath you. You were following instructions, you were definitely making a mess on his cock. He held your hips tighter and he groaned as he pumped his hot white cum inside of you. It continued to ooze out with his slow thrusts.

“You’re perfect.” You panted out half way delirious not even sure where you were but very sure whose you were. His. His forever.

“This is the best day of my life.” He rolled over to your side and pulled you into him drowsily. His chest rose and fell as you moved tighter to him unable to keep away. Velvety ropes of him spilled out of your pussy. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Good girl.” He whispered, kissing your forehead.

“I… I love you so much T, baby.” You stuttered out barely able to form words. He hushed you pulling you into his slick warm skin. He peppered kisses all over you letting your body calm in his arms.

“I love you so much, Mrs. Alexander Arnold.” He hummed with a smile seeing your pouty face, fucked out of your mind. You could barely keep your eyes open from the orgasmic haze you were currently in. He nuzzled his face into your hair and breathed you in. Waves and waves of comfort rushed through him from your scent alone. “My angel baby. You’re so beautiful. God, the most beautiful mummy, the most beautiful wife.” He cooed as his one hand gingerly and playfully toyed with the new stack of wedding ringers on your finger.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🤍

Next part - Chapter 25 xx

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #oursfic #trent alexander arnold smut

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yuurei20 · 3 months ago

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Lilia Facts Part 17: Pranks and Teasing

Malleus says that “Fae like to play tricks year-round,” which may explain Lilia’s penchant for pranks and teasing: his entire Tsumsted adventure revolves around him and his tsum playing tricks on various students throughout the school, and Sebek’s PE vignette is about a prank of Lilia’s where he convinced Sebek that eating food like meat, beans and yogurt simultaneously increases the body’s ability to absorb protein.

Jack assures Sebek that he can just eat the foods separately but Sebek insists, “The less time between consumption, the better. That is what Lilia said, in his infinite wisdom and experience.”

Realizing that Sebek believed him Lilia begins to laugh, saying, “I just said the first thing that came into my head, but you actually took it seriously?” Sebek responds, “How many times now have I met this fate?,” insinuating that he is an often a victim of Lilia’s teasing. Lilia himself has a line about having too much fun messing with Sebek and Silver.

After bemoaning how Riddle and Azul forbid him from teaming up with Floyd Riddle and Jack take offense, say that they are more fun. Lilia asks for examples (Jack: “I can make funny faces…?” - Riddle: “I know the most appropriate jokes to tell at tea parties!) and then declares, “I couldn't have asked for better teammates to tease!”

Lilia also seems quite pleased by the decision that the students are to scare the Magicam Monsters out of the school for Halloween, and the majority of Ace’s Fairy Gala IF vignette features Lilia and Ace joining forces to tease Jack and Silver: Lilia compares Jack to a bird that smacked headfirst into a window, and says that Silver is so wobbly it reminds him of when Silver was just learning to walk.

He continues to tease them about their stiff expressions and “avant-garde choreography,” saying that he demands a refund, successfully annoying Jack into reacting (“What is your PROBLEM?! If you're just gonna heckle us, then get lost!”).

Lilia says, “We were only trying to ease your stress, you know. What a hurtful accusation…” and pretends to cry, then turns his attention to Ace, who asks whose side he is even on.

Lilia similarly teases Ace during the Spectral Soiree halloween party, joins Cater in teasing Idia at the previous party, and teases Eliza’s ghosts into attacking at the start of Phantom Bride.

#twstlilia #Lilia Vanrouge #twstfacts #liliafacts #twisted wonderland

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bootleg-nessie · 10 months ago

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List of Extremely Cursed Knowledge

Having autism and ADHD is a blessing and a curse because on one hand, I’m basically a walking encyclopedia of random facts and information. On the other hand, a fair amount of that information is so fucked up that it’s not socially acceptable to share it with anyone. So naturally, I took every fucked up fact, every bit of twisted trivia, every bit of cursed knowledge that I could come up with off the top of my head and compiled it into one big list to post on the internet. Some of this information may permanently ruin your (you, the reader) perception of certain things. None of this information should have ever seen the light of day, and a fair amount of it was never, ever meant to be known by humans.

You cannot unlearn anything on this list. This is your chance to scroll past.

You have been warned.

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According to FDA standards, a jar of peanut butter is allowed to have up to seven (7) rat hairs before it’s considered unfit for human consumption. If it has 7 or less rat hairs it will still be sold in stores.

If I just ruined peanut butter for you, don’t google the FDA regulations on any other foods you enjoy.

Human teeth have 36 calories each.

The average human body has roughly 125,000 calories. This is actually relatively low, which makes cannibalism in humans generally unsustainable.

Human meat tastes like pork.

Penguins have been observed practicing necrophilia.

Dolphin vaginas secrete a substance that acts like an aphrodisiac on steroids. When scientists swabbed some of it on a chimpanzee’s penis, it masturbated so furiously that it had a heart attack and died.

Dolphins have been known to intentionally commit suicide if kept in poor conditions.

Scientists that work with cockroaches often become allergic due to exposure. Simultaneously, they also develop an allergy to chocolate and pre-ground coffee. Make of that what you will.

Dolphins have been observed masturbating using decapitated fish heads.

Dolphins have been observed getting high on pufferfish venom recreationally, sometimes even passing a pufferfish around like a joint.

There’s a LOT of rape across the entire animal kingdom. Like, a LOT. It’s especially prevalent in dolphins, otters, ducks, penguins, and primates, to name a few.

On a related note, female ducks have corkscrew shaped vaginas. Male ducks also have corkscrew shaped penises that measure in at a whopping eighteen inches.

The barnacle has the largest penis to body size ratio in the animal kingdom, with its penis being up to eight times as long as its body.

Chimpanzees have been observed using frogs as a fleshlight.

A disembodied human head weighs about 10-12 lbs and is balanced in such a way that requires you to use both hands to pick up.

Pigs will eat every single part of a corpse - including bones. In 2012 a farmer in Oregon was eaten by his pigs after having a heart attack and falling in their enclosure. This also makes pig pens a prime spot for dumping bodies.

A body will decompose faster if you fill the rectal cavity with yogurt before burying it

When burying a body, make sure to bury it in a heavily wooded area. If vegetation is too sparse and/or the body isn’t buried deep enough, it will be easily noticeable after a few months because plants will grow in much thicker directly above where the body was buried.

You cannot bury a body in sand, as sand is too porous. The smell will seep through and give away the location

The entire universe could theoretically exist as a false vacuum and collapse into nothingness at any moment without warning.

Any alien civilization advanced enough to detect life on earth is also probably advanced enough to destroy our entire planet almost immediately. At the peak of interstellar technology, the only limiting factor is the speed of light. If they decided to attack, we probably wouldn’t even know it was coming until the entire surface of the planet was already vaporized.

It takes three and a half rotations to fully detach a human head from its body.

Recently deceased bodies can experience rigor erectus, which translates to “death boner.” This is especially common in victims of hanging, as it’s primarily caused by trauma to the cerebellum or spinal cord.

There is an extremely real chance that you have unknowingly purchased a product that was made by modern day slaves at least once in your life. Coffee, cotton, fish, clothes, shoes, and technology are among the most vulnerable industries.

A decapitated head remains conscious for several seconds after separated from the body.

The entire koala population across Australia is currently undergoing a major chlamydia epidemic. It’s actually been extremely devastating for them and they’re currently facing the threat of extinction because of it.

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fadingdaggerr · 2 years ago

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Can i request a melissa schementti x reader

Everyone is at the teacher conference and there's a party late at night. Melissa got invited and she saw reader at the bar getting hit on by an addington person and r (reader) looked uncomfortable but they were also laughing melissa couldn't decide whether to watch herself burn in jealousy or should she swoop in and save you. after you started looking very obviously uncomfy, melissa comes to you and gets very touchy with you, the addington teacher awkwardly backs off from the convo and melissa drags reader out of the party to makeout (this can have and not have smut, anything works!)

are you mine?

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above!

warnings: r gets aggressively flirted with, protective melissa, alcohol consumption, suggestive themes but no nsfw, making out

note: this is so much longer than i originally planned it to be but my middle name is detailed /j

your forehead rested on the table while janine and jacob ranted about all their plans for pecsa. as their excitement grew louder, you began lightly hitting your head against the wood of the table. after the third hit against the table, a hand came between you and the table, making you pause before registering it as melissa’s, before just laying your head in her hand.

“i’ll pay you money to make them stop,” you grumbled. melissa laughed, lifting her hand and your head with it.

“they’re excited. spring chickens like them always live for pecsa,” barbara says as she stirs the sugar into her coffee. she gestures between her and melissa with the spoon, “we make use the bar and the hot tub, only useful thing there after thirty years of teaching.”

melissa nods heavily in agreement, “and the continental breakfast.” her clear excitement about the breakfast alone makes you smile, easing the tough morning from a lack of sleep.

jacob leans over you, “please tell me you’re driving with me and janine, please.”

you turn to face him with a sarcastically large smile, “will you play your podcasts?”

“of course,” jacob says with an excited tone.

matching his excitement, you shake your head, “no!” melissa and barbara snort, poorly covering their laughs. “i will be gladly driving, and rooming, alone,” you say with a gentle pat to jacob’s shoulder.

the middle of the day rolls around, and you and melissa have lunch duty together. you mostly just chat with one another while you watch over the kids, sharing a bag of apple slices from the fruit and vegetable cart.

“you sure you don’t wanna drive to the hotel with me and barb? we got room, plus we gotta plan,” melissa says through a bite of apple.

“plan for- elias please get the carrot out of your nose- plan for what?” you asked.

she looks at your incredulously, “plan for pecsa weekend, sweetheart. hot tub, pool, drinks, repeat. those plans.”

the pet name almost knocked the wind out of you, she said it with such ease. her green eyes looked into yours as she said it, called you sweetheart. you blink a couple times in an attempt to clear your mind to answer, “uh, yeah, yeah. sure. should i meet you or are y’all just picking me up?”

“i’ll pick you up, don’t worry about it,” she says with a look in her eyes you can’t quite decipher. you don’t get enough time to even try before her teacher senses kicked in and she yells across the room, “kamal don’t even think about throwing that yogurt!”

—

packing for one weekend isn’t hard, right? right? your sanity was fleeting as you tried to choose between two different pairs of black pants, holding up your button up to compare it between the two. this shouldn’t be hard. before you can start tearing your hair out, there’s a knock at your door. you open the door to see melissa, who lets herself in.

“how did you get in the building?” you asked as you started walking back down to your room, she hadn’t pressed your buzzer.

she answers as she follows you, “just pressed a bunch of buttons until i heard it unlock.”

“why’d i even ask?” you laugh. you stare at the pants again, hoping melissa’s presence could spark a decision.

melissa can see in your rigid posture, and thumbnail in your mouth being chewed on, that you’re frustrated. she perches her chin on your shoulder, looking at your choices. they’re almost identical, except one is straight-legged and the other is tapered at the ankle. she doesn’t quite understand why it’s stressing you out so much, but she doesn’t question it. the hand not resting on your arm points to the straight-legged ones.

she hears you hum in agreement, leaning just barely away from her hold to pick up and fold the pants, placing them in the bag next to you on the bed. she pulls away from you to let you roam about the room and get the rest of your things. she takes note that you’re a very organized packer, everything had a place and an order. she smiled when you gave yourself a thumbs up when you zipped your bag.

the drive to pick up barbara was short, but you both spoke the whole way through. you decided by the fourth stop sign that melissa’s laugh was the best sound you’d ever heard.

the rest the of drive, you stayed pretty quiet. you mostly listened to melissa and barbara talk, their banter was your favorite reality show. curled up in the passenger seat facing melissa, you could easily talk to and hear both her and barbara. you especially enjoyed the uninterrupted view of melissa as she drove, sunlight tracing her green eyes and pink lips.

at every red light, melissa made it a point to look at you, but each time you were already looking.

—

the pecsa party was definitely much more crazy this year. the rise in legendary charter schools meant a rise in their ‘teachers,’ as melissa often liked to put in air quotes. after the first round of math-aritas, you’d lost sight of gregory and janine, jacob never having shown up to the party in the first place. after another round of, tequila had to be taken out of the equation for your own sake (and memory).

“okay, i’m getting an appletini, you want another drink?” you say to melissa, eyeing her nearly empty glass. she nods, her eyes staying on you as you ask barbara, “another math-arita?”

“oooo, yes. make sure they actually do a sugar rim this time,” she replies.

you turn back to melissa, “vodka cran?”

she smiles, “you reading my mind?”

“i wish,” you answer as you get up to to walk to the bar. you miss the soft, wondering look on melissa’s face, but her eyes never leave you.

“wipe the drool off your chin, schemmenti,” barbara teases from beside her. melissa only gives her a look that says the fuck you for her. she doesn’t fight it other than that, she knows how she looks at you. the pine colored satin shirt did not help, nor did the top few buttons being undone, or the rolled up sleeves. sometimes she felt like her eyes were made to look at you.

—

weaving your way to the bar seemed like an incredibly difficult task with the liquor in your system, but you prevailed. with your three drinks ordered, all you had to do was wait. you sit at the bar with your back against the counter, scrolling through your phone as you waited.

“hey,” a deep voice says. you look up and are greeted with the sight of a guy your age with dark eyes and tan skin. his name tag gives away his addington allegiance.

“hi,” you say dismissively.

he sticks his hand out with confidence, “andreas, addington charter.”

you don’t shake his hand, instead crossing your arms, “not interested, abbott elementary.”

you spin in your seat to face the bar, pointedly ignoring him. your efforts prove fruitless when he slides up next to you, “so you’re just gonna ignore me? that’s not very nice, sweetheart.”

“never said i was nice. and don’t call me sweetheart,” you snap. only one person in the world could call you that, and it wasn’t the personification of axe body spray next to you. you turn your seat again, attempting to get away from him. his hand stops the seat, turning you back towards him with a white knuckle grip.

“come on, don’t be like that. i’m just trynna talk to you,” he says with a sweet voice, but the look in his eyes and his hand crawling to your thigh tell you otherwise.

“and i’m just trying to get drinks for my friends, not talk to high school dropouts,” you say, your own vice grip on the counter. his arm caged you to the bar and his grip on your leg made it impossible to escape.

the nerves coursing through your veins come to a halt when a familiar touch across your shoulders. soft lips with sticky gloss press against your temple with a mumbled, “go with it.”

your face turns to see melissa with a stone cold look on her face, quite the opposite of her gentle touch. she does a once over of andreas before deciding he wasn’t worth her time. her attention falls back to you, face relaxed and eyes focused on you entirely.

“hi,” you say softly, unable to take your eyes away from hers.

“hey, sweetheart,” her eyes flicker to the hand gripping your seat, “who’s your friend?” you can feel the anger and sarcasm dripping in her words even with the smile on her face.

“lady, do you mind?” andreas says, gesturing between you and him. melissa’s arm around your shoulder pulls you in tighter despite his hand still on the seat. your arm wraps around her waist, hand caressing her waist.

“i do, i mind you touching what’s mine,” melissa practically growls, her free hand practically ripping his off of you.

andreas laughs heartily, “yours? like you could get that.”

“that is sitting right here,” you huff, leaning more into melissa. her hand slides from your shoulder to the back of your neck, thumb gently grazing the hairs at the base of your neck. you turn to look up at her, god how easy she could just lean down and press her lips to yours.

“she serious?” andreas asks you.

“clearly, dipshit,” you answer with a dry tone. your next words fall out on their own accord, “been hers since the day i met her.” you make it a point to keep your focus on him instead of melissa, afraid she might see the truth of your words in your eyes.

he sits up more, defensive in body language and tone, “i thought we were gonna have a good time tonight.”

“we will,” melissa says as the bartender places your drinks on the counter, “but you have fun with your socks and lotion.” she hands you your drink, then grabs hers and barbara’s and begins to walk away.

barbara is so excited about her drink, she hardly noticed the prolonged absence. the three of you sip on your drinks, though you’re about a half-step from downing yours in one go. melissa’s eyes watch you, paying attention to the nervous tapping on your fingers on the stem of the glass, the way your eyes flick around as you think.

“be back in a few minutes barb,” she says as she hoists you up by your arm. melissa pulls you off to the side, away from the crowd of people. she’s so close to you that her perfume fills your senses, making it hard to listen to her.

“you okay?” she asks, eyes scanning over you with worry.

you nod despite it making you dizzy as the action mixes with the alcohol, “yeah, yeah. thank you.” melissa’s words from earlier are the only things playing through your head as you speak. the possessive nature she so easily took on, referring to you as hers.

“then why are you all… not here?” she asks. you internally curse her for being able to read you so well.

“it’s nothing, i promise. let’s just go back,” you try to pull away, but her gentle hand holds yours.

“what is it?” she insists, but there’s an underlying concern written on her face.

you watch her eyes flick between yours, like she’s trying to pulling the words from you. she’s so close, her breath fanning across your lips, her fingers laced with yours. her beauty was so beyond you, utterly infinite. you settle with your heart instead of your mind, finally muttering, “i meant it.”

she tilts her head down to meet your fallen gaze, “meant what, sweetheart?” god, there is was again.

“what i said,” it’s hardly an answer, she deserves a better answer.

she’s silent for a second, you know she’s playing the interaction back in her mind. your heartbeat skips when she cups your face, forcing you to stare into olive seas.

“about you being mine?” she asks quietly. for the first time in the five years you’d known her, she’s never been so timid.

all you can muster is a nod, scared of what you may say. you don’t have time to ponder much before her lips press against yours, then quickly pulling away. she doesn’t make it far when your hands come up to her wrists to pull her back in. your kiss is stronger than hers was, but she’s quick to give you everything she has.

your back hits the wall behind you, giving melissa more freedom to press herself into you, hands sliding from your face to your hips. you take this chance to cup her cheeks, pulling her as close as you could, needing her there. her tongue traces your bottom lip, asking for invitation only to be accepted without thought. her hands, her lips, her tongue, she was quickly becoming an addiction.

melissa thought she may be dreaming, but your hand shifting into her hair makes her change her mind. if this wasn’t real, she didn’t want to wake up. she desperately needed air but that way your tongue moved against hers was just too good to give up. almost thankfully, your lips left hers, only to pull her closer so you could duck into her neck, kissing her neck a few times before pulling away.

your forehead rested against hers, not wanting to leave this moment. her hands had found their way underneath your shirt, fingers dancing across the skin of your torso, her rings cold against your warm skin. footsteps coming closer break the peace that had settled between you two.

melissa’s head pokes out, and with one look, the steps recede back again. all she says in explanation is, “fucking idiot.” when she turns back, you’re already looking, as always.

the lust-dazed look on your face sends a fire through her veins. the image of you blurs around the edges, and she has to give into the fact the drinks were strong and as much as she craved you, you were both drunk. your eyes indicate that you’re having the same thought process, but your fingers in her hair tell her that you’re not willing to be far from her. and god, the feeling was incredibly mutual.

“you still rooming alone?” melissa asks blissfully.

you nod, “big ass bed, big ass tv.” melissa smiles and pulls you close to her side as she leads you to the elevators.

—

hard morning sunlight plunged into your eyes, waking you from a deep slumber. a groan behind you alerts you to the presence in your bed, the soft movement of a hand across your ribs brings memories of the night before back to you. though you and melissa didn’t have sex, the night was spent with the tv playing quietly as you touched, kissed, and traced the curves of her body. you could still feel her lips trailing down your chest, nipping and sucking on sensitive skin.

the reminder of the drinks came the second you tried to turn and face melissa. a sharp headache ripped through you, making you whine and bury your face in the pillow.

“check out’s at ten,” melissa rasps.

you turn to her despite the pain in your head, leaning into her touch and mumbling, “what time’s it now?”

“nine. i gotta head back to my room and shower and change,” you can feel the reluctance in her tone.

“and check on barb,” you chuckle, “three math-aritas might’ve incriminated her for all we know.”

melissa chuckles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips, “i’ll meet you downstairs?”

“yeah,” you mumble as you press your lips to hers, needing as much as you can get before she leaves.

it doesn’t occur to you that melissa didn’t have a change of clothes in your room last night until she rose up only wearing your sleep shirt and panties. your mind stalls as your eyes stay glued to her, completely taken aback by the sight as she changes into her dress from last night. she notices your trance and smirks, lifting your face with a finger below your chin. she admired you before pressing a light kiss to your lips.

“bye,” she mumbles before heading out, you just stare as she leaves. you’re left staring at the door for a moment, racking your brain to find what you did to deserve her. please don’t let this be a dream.

thank you for the request <3 i hope you like this one anon :)

feedback appreciated as always

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary

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i-used-to-be-a-spy · 7 months ago

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Ok so for the past three months (April-June) I bought yogurt by the tub which is 2 lbs and id eat the whole thing in 2 weeks

I started buying cups like Michael this month just so I can get some flavors that don't come in bulk like mango and peach and blackberry etc

Michael eats at least 3 cups a day so he's def eating 1.5-2 pounds of yogurt in a week. I just eat one a day!

I forgot Sam kept a daily yogurt tally so he knows exactly how much Michael eats 😂

Which let's just say must be a lot bc I eat a pound a week and Michael prob eats 2-3

#burn notice #michael westen #my yogurt consumption and sweet tea consumption is off the walls bc of him and autism #yogurt

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neosartorya · 10 months ago

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So i was thinking about the whole solarpunk chobani oatmilk ad (as depicted here) and a comment someone made in a different post (that I now can't find) where they said something along the lines of (paraphrasing) 'the marketing people at chobani being unable to imagine a future where their brand had ditched single-use containers in favor of a sustainable alternative'. And I started thinking how will food packaging look like in the solarpunk utopia?

Modern food packaging responds (mostly) to the needs of the globalized supply chain, where food products need to be moved great distances without being damaged and while taking up as little space and energy as possible. Packaging also needs to be made of the cheapest materials available, hence the preference for disposable containers made of light materials (cardboard, plastic, aluminium, paper, etc.). You don't want your package to be worth more than what it contains (although with some food products, that is close to being the case).

The comment I referenced earlier suggested using reusable glass containers as an example of a sustainable alternative to single-use containers. That makes sense, and there is historical (and current) precedent for such kinds of food containers. Just ask your parents (or grandparents, I guess) how milk used to be delivered to homes in the good ol' days.

In a more recent example, some places still use reusable (returnable) containers for products such as beer and (even!) Coca-cola, where you pay an initial fee for the container and get reimbursed once you return it, or you can exchange the empty container for a full one by paying the price of the product minus the container fee.

This solution, however, is still within the framework of the global supply chain of modern capitalism. In the solarpunk utopia, the goal would be to reduce (reuse, repair, recycle) the breadth of our current supply chain by prioritizing local consumption and disinsentivizing long-distance trade.

This train of thought led me to the question of wether processed, pre-packaged food would even be a thing in the solarpunk utopia. After all, if we are trying to consume only what is locally sourced, one of the main purposes of preserved (and thus packaged) food goes away. No need for bottled orange juice when you can just go to the commons bin and grab a kilo of fresh oranges to make your own.

Further, once there is no capitalism, the "convenience" angle of processed, packaged food also appears to go away. You don't have to work 9 hours a day, 6 days a week anymore. You have the time and resources necessary to make your own damn fresh orange juice, so why bother with the bottled stuff?

Well for one, not everything is as easy and convenient to do by yourself as orange juice. Fermented foods (cheese, wine, beer, soy sauce, even pickles and yogurt), bread and pastries and cakes, carbonated drinks, jams and marmalade, butter, mayonnaise, cured meats and fish, and (yes) almond milk are all tricky to make properly, take a long time to be made and/or are energy and resource intensive. The need for these kinds of foods will remain as long as we are human and find pleasure in eating and trying new things. Also, the need for mass-produced food does not go away with capitalism, after all we have a population of 10 billion humans with different dietary needs that need to be fed. Food safety standards must still be enforced and probably will be even more stringent when corporate profits are no longer standing in the way of progress.

To add to this, a localized supply chain will make food preservation even more important. After all, if you want your population to survive mostly on what can be produced in a 100 km radius, you will have to prepare for food scarcity. Droughts, floods, earthquakes, blizzards, accidents, and even just regular ol' winter (once we've rescued it from the clutches of climate change) don't care how solar your punk is. They will wreck your food supply and your utopia needs to be ready.

So the need for packaged food will remain. The need for food that can stay in a cupboard undisturbed for months (if not years) and remain edible (and reasonably palatable!) will continue to be there.

With all this in mind... what does food packaging look in our solarpunk utopia? Single-use plastics have gone the way of the dodo, as have single-use paper, cardboard, aluminium, glass, and steel. What has replaced them?

I have some ideas, but this post is already ridiculously long, so I'll save them for later. All I'll say for now is I think glass containers are not the way to go. Glass is heavy, fragile, a poor thermal conductor (so heating and cooling processes with glass containers are energy innefficient), and takes up a lot of space. It is also very resource and energy intensive to produce and recycle (so not the most environmentaly friendly in that regard either).

What does a reusable aluminium container look like? That'd be cool I think.

#food science #solarpunk #long post #rant #science #gradblr #my posts

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darksigns-exe · 6 months ago

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be my angel | two - still august 1991

Pairing: Nicholas Ruffilo x Teddie (OFC) Warning: Swearing, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of drugs, men being a little misogynistic Word Count: 5k

Be My Angel Masterlist Masterlist

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates <3

The fan whirrs in the background as Teddie stirs her yogurt. The apartment has been so awfully quiet since Angie had left. It’s been two weeks, but somehow it feels eternally longer and shorter at the same time. It’s been a good two weeks, Noah had stopped making fun of her New Kids On The Block tapes and instead had decided that he would “educate” her. He’d made lists of albums for her, made tapes for her to take on the go. And in a way, Teddie was thankful that he’d somewhat taken her under his wing. She’d started to get a little tired of the same old same old pop tunes and so far, what Noah had provided her with had not disappointed. It was nice to have someone who would show her new things, and Noah had been so incredibly helpful when it came to that. In the month that she had known him, she’d already learned more than in the entire year that she had already spent in New York.

Not being confined to the wall of her dorm room with people she couldn’t stand the sight of was a relief. And although Teddie still found herself questioning if she had even made the right decision in coming here in the first place, she was starting to feel a little more at home.

She turned the crystal case over to check the name of the album once again. Isn’t Anything. The washed out, over exposed photo on the cover stared back at her. The music is noisy, distorted in a way that Noah assures her is intentional. And even though the vocals are quiet and sometimes indistinguishable from the noise surrounding them, Teddie feels as if she understands all of it. She makes a note of the song that plays in her little notebook, so that she can come back to it again later. Noah will want to hear what she enjoyed about it and what didn’t work for her. It’s a fun little evening activity.

The album continues to drone in the background as she cleans up her breakfast. It’s nice to have a quiet morning for once. She’s gotten so used to having to rush everywhere over the summer that it almost feels wrong to have nowhere to go. Having a day off work is a real luxury, one that she’ll miss dearly when the semester really picks up again. She’s already dreading the long nights in the studio again, but maybe she can arrange her times in such a way that she can get her work done together with Noah. Teddie has come to enjoy working with him. They’ll spend their evenings silently working next to each other, and really she likes knowing that she could always ask him for his opinion on what she’s working on.

She has different plans for today, though. Teddie has been pushing this call off for long enough now, and the sooner she gets it over with, the better. Her momma had not been impressed when she’d first told her that she would move into an apartment with a man. Teddie knows that it’s mostly out of concern for her safety, and really she’d love for her to meet Noah at some point. Noah induces about as much fear in people as a little baby bunny, she thinks. He’s a darling, and Angie wouldn’t have suggested this if Noah wouldn’t be a good person.

Teddie slumps down in the armchair next to the landline. Knowing her mother, she’ll be here for a while. In the dormitory, she’d have to sit on the ground next to the phone while her mother prattled on about the goings-on at home. At least now, she can curl up in the slightly stiff armchair Angie had apparently dragged up the stairs all on her own one day. She dials the number out of sheer muscle memory, and a small part of her still expects to hear her daddy's voice on the other end. It still surprises her when he’s not the one that picks up.

He’d been so very proud of her – so excited to see his little girl moving to the big city. Her father had been her biggest supporter from day one, he’d marvelled at every little crayon drawing she’d presented him with. Not that her mother hadn’t given her that excitement, but he’d always made her feel extra special.

A brief tinge of disappointment fills her when she hears her mother’s voice instead.

“I was just thinking of you, honey.” the warm twang in her voice instantly makes her feel at home again.

“I have the day off, thought I’d use the chance to call.” she explains, twirling the cord around her finger, “How’s Brian?”

And that sets off a thirty-minute long tirade about her brother’s shenanigans. While older than her, Brian was by no means more responsible. Brian had always caused more chaos than good – none of it had been malicious, but he quickly made a name for himself as the local daredevil. And apparently it had not gotten better since she had left.

“Michael, on the other hand – he’s been talking to Gracie a lot recently.” her mother adds finally, and that makes Ted perk up.

“Grace?”

She’d gone to school with Grace, they’d been friends for the longest time. But about a year before they’d graduated, she’d decided that Teddie wasn’t good enough company any more and had turned her back on her. It had been fine for the most part, but hearing that she now talks to her brother – because Teddie knows what her mother means when she says talk — makes her question things a lot more.

“Tell me about you, though. Are you well? How is this new place you’re living in now?”

Teddie tells her about Angie's farewell party and conveniently leaves out the amount of drinks she’d had or the looks one of the boys kept throwing her way. She tells her about how kind Noah and his friends have been to her, how welcoming they've been. The conversation quickly steers back to Teddie and her absence from home. She says that it’s because of work and all the assignments, but that’s only partially the truth. Going home hasn’t been something she’s looked forward to since the funeral. The house is still her home, but the distant ache in her chest still makes it feel so empty. It’s been just under eight months since she’s been home, and in a way she does feel bad. But the truth is that home hasn’t felt like home since that day. When she’d stepped foot into that house, it had suddenly become the place where he had passed and not the place where their height was marked on the door frame in the kitchen.

She tells her mother that she’ll come home for Christmas, that school is keeping her too busy to visit. Between her work for school, the babysitting and the café, she barely had time to sleep over the summer. The city turned out to be a lot more expensive than she had anticipated.

She promises her momma that she’ll call more often, that she’ll send pictures of the apartment and of Noah. The call ends when Brian falls into the door, yells something about how Mikey almost crashed the car – again.

Ted sets to cleaning up their dishes, Noah has a tendency to leave his cups scattered all over the place, and it feels a little like the egg hunt at Easter. She takes her time, going through her little routine for once. She’ll get through more of her work before she’ll head out to get an early dinner with Noah. In a few short hours, she’ll have to take pictures of a band she knows nothing about, and her insides are already rioting about it.

By now, Ted feels somewhat comfortable navigating this part of the city. She doesn’t feel entirely out of place any more, but even then Noah still manages to show her new shortcuts. When they’re not working on their little projects, they spend their evenings in the various bars of the neighbourhood with a constantly changing cast of friends.

Her feet find their way to the record store on their own. And soon the hanging sign comes into view.

Teddie pushes her way into the store. The bell above the door dings, but as always it is almost drowned out by the music they’re subjecting their customers to. She’ll have to ask Noah what this one is called later.

She spots Noah sorting through one of the displays, although his focus seems to be on something – or rather someone – else entirely. When she follows his eyeline, she finds Jesse leaning against the counter as he talks to another customer. Noah appears to be entirely entranced by the other man, and there’s a brief moment of curious confusion in her mind before Ted comes to the conclusion that Noah has been nothing but kind to her. It’s only right that she extends that same kindness to him now. And really, she doesn’t even know if that is what’s going on between them. And if it is, why should she get upset about her friends' happiness?

She’s only ever known of one boy in her class who’d been into boys. To this day, Teddie wishes that she’d been a little bit braver when she’d seen how cruel the others had been to him sometimes.

Ted is shaken out of her trance when Jesse claps his hands and throws his head back in delighted laughter. She chances another glance at Noah, and the dreamy look on his face tells her everything she needs to know.

She makes her way across the floor towards him. He jumps a little when she places her hand on his shoulder.

“Jesus, Ted.” he gasps, “You can’t scare a guy like that.”

“I’ve been in here for five minutes.” she replies with a laugh, “You’ve just been preoccupied.”

A faint pink fluster grazes across his cheeks. Noah quickly shakes himself out of it, though.

“I still have thirty. Have a little browse, I’ll hurry up.” he says curtly before returning to the CDs he must have been sorting through before Jesse caught his eye.

Maybe she shouldn’t have said something after all.

Ted spends the spare time she has been awarded browsing the well-stocked inventory. She still doesn’t know who actually owns the store. She knows for sure that it isn’t Noah, and she’s sure that it’s not Jesse either. The owner appears to be conveniently absent, though. The pair of them do a very good job with the stock, she thinks. Most of the titles she thumbs through are entirely new to her.

She finds herself digging through the cassette tapes, searching for something that’ll catch her eye. Teddie’s halfway to giving up when she spots it.

Ladies of the Canyon.

It’s the exact same one her dad had played for them. She hasn’t played it in years. The tape had stayed with him in Brevard when she had first left, and when she had come back for the funeral, she had avoided it like the plague. Finding it now feels a little like fate. If she wouldn't know better, she’d think that it actually was the tape from home.

She decides then that it’ll come home with her. It’ll be nice to immerse herself in it now that she’s a little older.

Noah is still busy with his tasks when she comes up to the register. Jesse quickly slides into the view in front of her, both hands posted up on the counter.

“Found something?” he asks.

Ted has found a good chunk of comfort in the familiar lilt of his accent.

“Just this.” she slides the tape across the counter.

Jesse flips it around so that he can inspect the cover. He makes an affirming noise before pushing it back to her.

“Excellent pick.” he concludes, “Noah’s getting you into the good things, huh?”

She scoffs, shaking her head, “My dad’s favourite. Haven’t listened to it in ages.”

He seems somewhat amused by her brash response, “I’m only joking, Ted. Joni isn’t his style. If anything, you gotta get him into her.”

They talk for a moment longer, mostly exchanging the gripes with Noah’s occasionally pretentious choices in music.

“He’s a rich kid from the city,” Jesse concludes, “He has to compensate his lack of edge with something.”

Ted tries her hardest not to laugh out loud.

Not a moment later does Noah appear from the backroom with his painted on cotton bag slung over his shoulder. He’d made her leave her mark on it, too. After agonising about it for a while, she’d settled on a little bundle of daisies, painted in thread, in the bottom left of it.

“Come on, I’m starving.” he says, throwing an arm over her shoulder, “Are you coming to eat with us?”

Jesse thinks for a moment before he shakes his head, “Still have to do some bookkeeping,” he shoots Noah a half-serious frown, “I’ll catch up with you at the show.”

Noah gives him a curt nod, “I see how it is. You don’t want to hang out with us.”

Their banter continues for a while longer, and Ted feels like an intruder in a private moment. Eventually, though, Noah steers them towards the door. She lets him walk her out of the store and back out onto the streets.

They’ve been to this diner plenty of times before, usually when she picks him up from work or when Noah drags her out of the studio at what he claims to be a ludicrously late hour. It’s a nice little family run place with cobbled together decor and friendly faces behind the counter. In the bustle of the city, it feels like a small slice of home.

The two of them find their usual booth by the window. And they’re barely seated when the waitress comes to take their orders.

One pastrami sandwich,

One cheeseburger - no tomatoes

Fries to share

One vanilla milkshake

One chocolate

The usual things.

And it really dawns on her. The show is only a couple of hours away now. She still knows virtually nothing about the band. Noah has told her the name – Hollow – and that there’s three of them. Teddie has tried multiple times to get Noah to tell her more, but he’s always brushed her off with the same blasé answer.

She won’t give in so easily now.

“You have to experience them on stage.” Noah offers.

It’s the same unsatisfying answer as always.

“This isn’t painting them in the best light, you know?”, Ted replies, tossing a fry into her mouth.

Noah shakes his head, “I just think that you need to meet them. What if what I tell you gives you a wrong impression?”

“These people are your friends, right?”

“That’s the problem!” Noah exclaims, “I want you to like them. And if I tell you that Nick is a grumpy asshole on occasion, it sounds as if she’s like that all the time. He’s just y’know. Matt has a fucked up sense of humour, but it’s just that. He’s actually a good guy. And you’ll like Jolly any way. I haven’t met anyone who doesn’t like him. He just is a little protective of the band sometimes.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Noah throws a fry at her, “Matt is on drums, right?”

He nods, before he repeats the line-up of the band yet again. Ted feels a little more prepared for the evening. She’s still full of anxiety over it, but she doesn’t feel terrified of it any more.

The walk from the diner to the bar where the show will be isn’t that long. Noah takes the time to tell her about how he and Nick met in the first place. He tells her about the time Nick had rushed into the record store almost two years ago, asking if there was a space for the band's very first demo. Not even to sell, just for people to take it. Noah had to call the number on the back of the tape three days later because they’d already run out of CDs.

They turn a corner onto a different block. Ted spots the bar immediately. There’s a group of people gathered in front of it already, and even from the distance she can smell the cigarette smoke. As they get closer, the thumping noise starts to turn into music. The buzzing in her ears grows with every step they take. This crowd looks nothing like the people back home. There’s more tattooed skin on this stretch of road than she has ever seen at home.

Noah wraps a hand around her bicep, stopping Ted dead in her tracks.

“Some people in there look a little scary. They’re all great, though. Stick with me and you’ll be fine.” Noah says soft, “We’ll go straight to the dressing room.”

Teddie only manages to give him a nod before he’s practically speeding them towards the entrance of the bar. As they pass people, various shades of hello are thrown towards Noah. Once again it feels as if everyone knows him and she still doesn’t understand how he manages to be so social.

As soon as they’ve trudged down the narrow stairs, a waft of what Teddie knows to be beer floods through her senses. The place reeks of it. Something sweet and bitter mingles in between it and the cigarette smoke. Teddie doesn’t know what it is, and she isn’t sure that she likes it. Her shoes stick to the concrete floor with every step. The conversations and music around them are almost overwhelming. She clings to Noah’s arm as if she’s a toddler trying not to lose her momma again.

The further they get into the bar, the more crowded the place seems to become. She wraps her other hand around the strap of her camera bag, although it’s far too crowded for whoever would try to grab it to get very far.

Noah looks back at her and shakes his head, “Loosen up a little, everyone here is cool.”

He steers her towards a door on the far end of the long, rectangular room. He knocks twice before shoving the door open just far enough for them to squeeze through.

“Don’t let anyone give you shit. They’re great most of the time.” Noah says with a wink that makes her want to shove her fist into his gut.

The room Ted finds herself in is just as cramped as the bar it’s attached to. It’s tiny and stuffed with furniture that seems to be third-hand at least. The same sweet-bitter smell fills her nose, and she has to bite back a cough.

“Gentlemen,” Noah claps his hands, “Gentleman.” he corrects himself when he notices that only one person is in the room, “This is your photographer.”

He moves to stand behind her, holding her by the shoulders.

The man on the sofa looks up at her. The grim look on his face makes her take a step back, making her bump against Noah’s chest.

“I thought you said you had someone with experience and not one of your little friends.” he speaks with an accent she can’t quite place.

“Ted knows what she’s doing.” Noah sounds actually upset this time, “It’s not like you can afford to be picky.”

The man shakes his head, “You can explain this one to Nick. I’m not getting you out of this one.”

Teddie feels awfully out of place. There’s an uncomfortable sting in her chest. This almost rejection feels terrible, and it makes her want to head right back home.

“You don’t have to get me out of anything at all.”

Noah fixes him with that stubborn glare that she’s been subjected to a few times already. She observes the staring match for a moment longer, before she clears her throat.

“Are you done?” Teddie finds herself asking, as if she has any kind of authority here, “I can go if you don’t want me here. But Noah made it sound as if you need someone, so make up your mind.”

“I’m gonna go find Matt.” he mumbles then, before pushing past them and out into the main space of the bar.

Ted assumes that this has to be Jolly – despite what Noah had told her about the guy. She tries to push this first interaction to the side for now. Tempers seem to be high tonight, and she’s willing to give him another chance.

Noah slumps down on one of the sofas. Ted remains rooted to the ground for a moment longer. She doesn’t get to ask Noah what’s in the water today, as the moment she opens her mouth to ask, a door she hadn’t noticed yet creaks open. It stops at the halfway point. A quiet curse sounds from behind, before another stranger pushes into the room. He curses when one of the pins on his denim jacket gets catches on the door, and somewhat clumsily tries to force his arm through the door to release it. Ted notices the bag lodged in front of the door and rushes forward to move it out of the way.

“Shit. Thanks.” his voice sounds a lot softer now.

He’s all kind eyes, and it takes her a moment too long to tear her eyes away from him.

“Noah!”

The way his face lights up when he spots the other man across her shoulder is truly delightful. Noah is up and next to them in no time. She isn’t sure who pulls who into a hug, but watching them embrace eases the ache in her chest just a little bit more. Ted feels as if she’s witnessing a long awaited reunion. She decides to take a step back, to give them a little bit of space.

They part a moment later, still remaining fairly close to each other.

“Glad to see that you made it.” he holds Noah by the shoulders so that he can inspect, “New ink looks good. Who is your friend?”

“This is Ted.” Noah takes a step back, “Ted, this is Nick.”

He gives her a more conscious once over, stops here and there before he breaks into a small smile.

“So you’re our photographer, huh?” she nods, “We’ll see if you’re as good as Noah made you sound.”

It’s not malicious, more laced with curiosity and genuine interest. There’s a glint in his eye that Ted can’t place yet, but she has a feeling that he’s going to be trouble. She doesn’t know what it is about him, but she knows that it won’t end well.

They talk for a while and Ted forces herself to push the thought that she is intruding away, so that she can actually do what she was asked to do. She manages to snap a couple of pictures of Nick and Noah catching up, before the door to the bar flies open yet again.

“Dumb if you ask me.” who she assumes to be Matt says as he marches into the room.

He pauses when he spots the two newcomers in the room and gives Noah a curt nod. But when he turns towards Ted his brows crinkle in confusion.

“Who’s that? Groupie?”

A sharp smack lands against his back. Noah lets out a half snorted laugh when he stumbles forward a little.

“Did I not just tell you about her.” Jolly sounds genuinely exhausted with him, “Talk about dumb one more time.”

There’s a little more catching up, before the band is informed that it’s almost time for them to go on. Ted takes a final moment to gather herself before she braves the bar again. Noah is hot on her heels when she steps outside the dingy excuse of a dressing room.

“I’ll be at the bar with Jesse if you need me. You’ll be fine, watch out for the crowd surfers. I love you, make me proud.” he rattles on before he presses a slightly too wet kiss on her forehead.

A second later he’s gone from her view.

It’s not long before the lights dim down and the crowd roars with yells and applause. In the dim light, she can make out the shape of Jolly strumming a first tentative chord. And then she hears him. Teddie hadn’t thought about what his singing voice would be like. She gives herself a moment to adjust, take in the sights and sounds of this comparatively slow beginning.

When she finally snaps out of her trance, Ted pulls her camera up to her face. She works her way up to the stage, capturing – or rather trying her best to – the band as they slip into their second song. Noah had told her that they’d just put out their first full album, but it still feels as if everyone in the room knows the words to the songs. Even though the guitars sound harsh at first, Ted quickly finds herself infected by the energy in the room. The almost shy demeanour Nick had exhibited earlier in the dressing room is nowhere to be found now. And in a way, she now understands what Noah meant when he said that she’d have to experience them like this. If all she had seen of Nick had been the boy in the dressing room, she never would have thought of him as the frontman of a band like this. But seeing him here, bathed in warm lights, she can’t imagine him anywhere else. He seems to be entirely lost in the music, dedicated to nothing but the sound and the roaring the crowd awards him with in return.

They switch between songs so effortlessly, and the crowd eats every moment of it up. All the while, Ted tries to get as many angles as she can. She manages to make her way to the front of the stage eventually. She’ll have to find a way up somehow so that she can get Matt on some of the pictures as well. She finds herself right in front of Nick then. He has one foot propped up on the speaker in front of him as he belts the words into his microphone. He glances down at her just as she gets ready to take her picture. She snaps one of him looking directly into the camera. The look sears right through her. He has the audacity to shoot a wink at her way, but moves away too quickly for Ted to react in any kind of way. Instead, she stands dumbfounded for a moment. She shakes herself out of it and shoves her way through the crowd towards the side of the stage. Whatever that was can be dealt with later. She’s here to do a job.

The show is over much quicker than she had thought, and by the end of it her ears are ringing and her blood buzzes with adrenaline. Teddie pushes her way through the crowd to find Noah and Jesse again. She finds them entirely engrossed in their conversation, leaning against the bar.

Noah perks up as soon as he spots her, though.

Ted tries her hardest to contain her excitement, but the words won’t stop bubbling from her mouth, much to the boys' amusement.

Half an hour later, their group files into the still packed Bell Tower. Apparently, Nick works in the bar while the band is not on tour, and she’s sure that she heard him complain about Noah’s choice of bar when they rounded the corner. Hanging around Nick also awards them one of the better tables in the very back, where it’s not as loud and crowded any more. Ted lets herself drift in the noise for a while. Everything that had happened tonight is slowly flooding back into her mind, and she suddenly feels awfully overwhelmed. The ringing in her ears still hasn’t worn off and to make things even better, her head is starting to pound with the beginnings of a headache. She almost doesn’t notice Jolly sliding into the booth next to her. Only when he slides a glass of something in front of her does she look up at his face.

“Drink.” he nods towards the glass, “Just water. You’re pale. Don’t need you passing out.”

She feels herself nodding and empties most of the glass in one go. Jolly lets out a low chuckle next to her.

“I was too harsh with you earlier. We have a lot riding on those pictures, you know? Noah’s right, we can’t afford to be picky, but we need this to work out.” he explains, “And him bringing an obvious newbie – no offence – didn’t make me very hopeful.”

Ted suddenly feels even worse about it all, if Noah had told her how important this was for them, she would have told him to find someone with actual experience.

“But I also know that Noah wouldn’t just show up with the next best person, so I’m going to assume that he knows what he was doing when he asked you.”

Teddie takes another sip of her water. She’s not feeling as woozy any more, but this whole evening still feels a little like a dream.

“I didn’t know how important this was for you –”

Jolly shakes his head, “Noah could have told you. I assume he didn’t so that you wouldn’t pull out. Either way, we have to deal with it now. And if it makes you feel better, you looked professional enough.”

“What d’you need the photos for anyway?” she asks finally.

He takes a sip from his beer, “Contest from a magazine. Winner gets a spot on a festival bill over in Europe.”

So just a small thing, Ted thinks to herself.

Jolly must have noticed the wash of fear rushing over her face, as he places a warm hand on her shoulder, “If we win this, you’re coming with us. I hope you know that.”

As if that’s supposed to make her feel better.

taglist: @circle-with-me @deathblacksmoke @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

#bad omens fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo x ofc #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #bad omens au #bad omens fic #fic: be my angel

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

Crushed 11

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: Yo, things are getting intense at work.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

You leave a message for your landlord after several failed calls. You come out defeated and hesitant. Your apartment is your comfort, it's your safe space, but it's been breached and you're displaced here. As kind as Jonathan is, that can't last forever. He is your boss after all and you need your job.

The scent of cinnamon draws you to the kitchen, along with the subtle movement clinks and tinking inside. You lean on the doorframe as you watch Jonathan's back, the thin string of an apron tied around his waist and a thicker band along his neck. He hums as he pushes down the plunger of a glass coffee press.

"Uh, hi," you eke out and his long fingers nearly take off the lid of the press. He chuckles and steadies it, shifting to look at you, "er, morning."

"Morning, barely," he muses as he glances at the digital number glowing on the stove, "I've got some scones in and I think we could pair it well with some porridge, if you're fond of it. Or perhaps, yogurt and some fresh fruit. A touch of granola…"

"Yeah, uh, you didn't have to do all this," you rub the back of your neck, "I left my landlord a message. I should head out and figure out a locksmith–"

"Ah, yes, I forgot," he extends a finger, "I've taken care of all that. My own lessor had some recommendations and I was able to arrange the repair. The keys should be delivered shortly–"

"Oh," you blink and chew your lip. He's so helpful. Too helpful. Or maybe you're ungrateful. "Again, thanks, I… I owe you. For a lot it seems."

"I hope it wasn't too much," he says as he checks his watch and grabs the oven mitt, "I only thought to ease the burden–"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You have everything figured out and I'm just helpless," you throw your hands up and cover your face, immediately scalded by your own temper. Why did you say that? "I'm sorry. I'm just so stressed, I can't think. I just want everything to be normal and…" you suck in air, pressing the heels of your hands to your forehead as you rant, "and I'm not this kind of person. I'm the sort to…" you inhale again, dizzy as it stings in your chest, "I just… I just…"

You bend over, clutching your head as you feel like folding. You're startled as Jonathan's hand clasp around your arm and he pulls you up, gently guiding you to sit on the short foot stool beside the counter. He gets to his knees and grips your shoulders, holding you straight as your head lolls. You don't know what's going on, it's like you've lost control of your body.

"Fawn, breathe. Yes? Let's count, one - in," he exhales, "two - out," his thumbs caress you through your shirt, "in… out. Three, four…"

You focus and close your eyes. Are you really having a meltdown in your boss's home? You count in your head, then outloud, measuring you breaths until your heart peters out.

"There we go," he slowly releases you, putting his hands on his knees as he stands with a low grunt, "if the caffeine is too much, I can squeeze some orange juice–"

"I'm fine," you reach up and pull yourself to the feet with the edge of the counter, "really, you've done enough."

"I've done what any decent person would," he shrugs as he opens a cupboard, "you are obviously dealing with a full plate, but I can't help but feel I don't know the half of it."

"What do you mean?"

"Car break's down and you get a visit from a home intruder. A string of bad luck, certainly, and it would have anyone addled, but… there seems a bit more than that. Something that's been bothering you a while," he pours two mugs of coffee, "it isn't my place to delve into your personal life, but I will say, I would help if I could. If you asked."

You shudder. You don't know what to say. The plucking in your chest wants you to tell him everything but that tick in your head says it's none of his concern. You've crossed enough lines.

He doesn't need to pick up after your stupid feelings. You made the dumb decision to crush on your neighbour, to welcome him in, to fawn over him like an unloved wife. Now you just have to deal with.

Hopefully, the new lock is just the beginning of shutting Colin out of your life.

"Really, it's just the car and the door. I'm sure you've got enough going on with the audit, huh," your voice shakes, betraying you.

"Ah, yes, standard," he places a cup before you, just on the corner of the counter, "I've done it before. Nothing out of the usual," he hooks his finger through the handle of his own mug, "well, one special thing; I don't mind the people."

He smiles as he lifts his coffee and you feel the world brighten just a lt.

No. No. Not that feeling. Not that flutter. Didn't Colin teach you better? Oh boy. You're not thinking straight, you're tired, you haven't had your coffee, you're crazy!

You pick up your cup and blow out a chestful of air. Get your head on straight. One man at a time. No, one thing at a time.

💗

“You know, I don’t mind if you’d rather stay another night,” Jonathan keeps one hand on the steering wheel, his other arm slack against the armrest, “I can understand if you don’t feel safe–”

“No, I’m good. I just want to get back on track. Everything feels so… disorderly.”

“I know what you mean. Even if I tend to live a nomadic life. Some people thrive on being settled, others not so much,” he muses, “have you heard about your car? Do I need to keep Pine’s luxury taxi in service?”

“Taxi? Oh, I’m so sorry. No. I uh, I can take the bus. And I can spot you some gas money–”

“I’m joking, darling,” he assures with a ripple of his fingers, “I don’t mind. It’s nice to have someone else for the morning ride. I find waking up alone a bit sombre… in a strange city. I’m a far way from home.”

“Uh, yeah, I can’t imagine…”

“I recall you mentioned you’ve never visited England. Pity. You should think about it one day. If you need a personal tour guide…”

“Mmm, yeah, maybe someday. Probably not anytime soon,” you mull and turn your gaze out the window.

“Of course,” he agrees, “I shouldn’t complain so much, traveling for work can really be a privilege. I know at least, it has afforded me the luxury of meeting many good people.”

“Yeah,” you say absently as your vision blurs and your mind drifts.

“...sisters? You said you have some a few towns over?”

You shake yourself from your trance. Your head clears as you straighten in your seat.

“Yeah, my one sister is pregnant, another’s getting married, the other two… well, they’re younger, they’re still growing up,” you say, “don’t really see them much.”

“Lots going on. So there’s going to be a wedding?” He prompts, stopping at a light.

“Hm?”

“Your sister?”

“Er, yes, yeah, actually, I still haven’t got the invitation,” you chuckle nervously, “I’m sure it’s in the mail.”

“And are you a bridesmaid?”

“I… she didn’t say anything,” you utter. You hadn’t even thought of that.

“Well, I’m sure she has a lot to plan, in due time,” he cranks the wheel and pulls a U-turn to come parallel to the curb in front of your building, “you are delivered. Nice and safe.”

“Thanks again,” you grab your bag from your feet and hit the button on your seatbelt. “I really… I owe you.”

“You don’t,” he assures, “all I ask is that you text me. Let me know you’re safe and behind locked doors.”

“Huh, yeah, I can do that,” you almost sigh in relief.

It’s weird. You dread being alone but you long for it. Your solace has always been by yourself. You just have to keep Colin out and you’re hoping that Ally will already have him distracted. You think back to the day before and how eager she was to get him to herself. Yeah, he doesn’t care that much about you. That’s what started this all.

“Well, I’ll see you at work.”

“See you at work,” he returns, his tone as lacklustre as you ever heard it.

You get out, a tug of guilt at the nape of your neck. You feel like you should say something else but you don’t know what. You let the door close softly as you step onto the pavement. You head up the walk, not looking back, too embarrassed to.

You let yourself into the building and pull out the new key from the locksmith. It’s shiny and silver with a yellow thread strung through the eyehole. You ease the front door closed behind you and listen to the building. It’s quiet, mostly.

You climb the stairs one by one and peek down the hall before you come up completely onto the second floor. There’s no one there and your door is as it should be. Locked tight and on the hinges.

You make your way down towards it, carefully to keep your keys from jingling. Your bag falls down your elbow as you wiggle the lock, the new key not catching right away. A click and slow grind jars you and as you look over, you nearly scream.

Colin appears from behind Ally’s door. Shirtless, in his usual grey sweats, looking casually sinister as he places a hand on the door frame. He snickers as he steps out. You turn back and fumble to twist the handle.

As the door opens, he’s on you. He closes you in as he catches the handle and pulls the door shut. You whimper and turn to face him, cowering as he sneers at you. You press yourself to the wood as he crowds you.

“Think you can run away with that pretty boy?” He taunts, “think I wouldn’t be waiting?”

“Colin, I– I’m sorry–” you gulp and look over, “Ally…”

“She’s off on another work trip. Kinda like you, huh? Hanging out with her boss off the clock. You must’ve had a lot of fun.”

“Look, whatever I did, it’s… there’s been a misunderstanding, alright? We’re friends. We were… I’m sorry I misinterpreted–”

“Honey, you are so stupid. I’m not done with you.”

“Please–” you beg.

“Get this. You were the perfect girl. You cooked, you did my laundry, you let me use your Netflix, that’s what every guy wants but you’re just not fuckable,” he scoffs, “well, my perspective changed on that. You know,” he leans in further and lowers his voice. “I didn’t picture myself balls deep until I saw you shaking in fear.”

“Get away,” you croak and push against his chest, “I’ll scream.”

A subtle click mutes his response as he opens his mouth but clenches his teeth. He tilts his head and listens. You hear the deep grumble of your downstairs neighbour, Curtis? You can’t remember, you never see him. He waits and pokes his tongue into his cheek.

“You fucking scream and I’ll remember. I’ll make sure when I fuck you that it splits you in half. So be a nice girl, like you always are, and let me in.”

“Please,” you reach to grip the key, trying to free it from the lock. You could jab him with it, get him off of you for long enough to get inside.

“If you wanna pretend I’m that preppy fuck, I don’t m–”

He jerks and nearly headbutts you as he bounces off the doorframe beside you. He cradles his face as he grunts and you gape at Jonathan as he squares his shoulders and steps up. How?

“You will back away,” Jonathan warns, “go back to your pathetic apartment and stay there.”

“Ah, not this douche–” Colin slips his hand down his cheek, revealing the split in the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, this douche,” Jonathan confirms, “I smelled it on you. I knew you were nothing but a weasel.”

“Whatever. She’s been begging me for it,” Colin spits, “you know, she sits there and pouts, watches me from across the hall, listens to me through the wall as I fuck girls hotter than she’ll ever be, wishing it was her–”

Jonathan moves so quickly, it leaves you stunned. The crack of his fist against Colin’s face makes you yipe and you quiver as you catch your voice in your hands. You keep flush to the door as your eyes wet.

“I do not like violence,” Jonathan says as he rubs his knuckles, “but I am not unfamiliar with it.”

“Fucker!” Colin bends over, drops of his blood landing on the floor.

“If you persist, I’m afraid I must as well.”

“Urgh,” Colin stands straight and spits onto the hardwood, “just wait…” he looks past Jonathan, “he can’t be here all the time.”

He turns and stomps away, keeping his hand on his jaw as he snorts and coughs. You stare after him, shaking in humiliation. It all happened so fast.

Jonathan waits until Colin’s door slams before he turns to you. He puts his hand on your shoulder and you flinch, “why didn’t you tell me it was him?”

You shake your head and stick your lip out.

“I should’ve guessed,” he tuts, “twisted man. Absolutely repuls–”

“How did you get in here?”

“A man let me in. Downstairs. Um, beard, very blue eyes,” he explains.

“Why?”

He gives half a smile, “ah, you left this in the front seat,” he holds up your lip balm, “I was trying to return it.”

“Oh,” you glance past him, frowning at Colin’s door.

“Darling, I know you are growing tired of me but I simply cannot leave you alone.”

“Yeah,” you nod numbly and turn to the door, jerking the key to the side, “I don’t wanna be alone.”

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