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diamond-coral · 3 years ago

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A Game

Summary: Tony suggests a game that you, the unfortunate intern, get dragged right into the center of: who can make a woman cum the fastest?

Pairings: all dark!: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader, Thor x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader, Tony x Reader, implied natasha x reader

Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON (oral: f-receiving, fingering, tiny smidge of analplay) VOYEURISM/EXHIBITIONISM, BLACKMAILING, OVERSTIMULATION. The characters in this story are NOT good people. After reading the warnings, your media consumption is your own responsibility!

As Stark’s party mellowed down and all the guests left, you, the unfortunate intern, were called over to the small group of five Avengers seated in a section of couches.

“Y/n, come!” Thor’s voice boomed.

“Y/n, come!” Sam mimicked, deepening his voice to make fun of Thor’s.

You approached them as the men snickered at Sam’s joke.

“What can I do for you?” you ask, a fake smile plastered on your face.

Stark cleared his throat and raised a brow at you; a silent command.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“A round of drinks please, and add this to Sir Barnes, Sir Rogers, and I’s drinks.” Thor handed you the flask of his Asgardian liquor and you accepted it, hiding the slight nervous tremble of your hands.

“Of course, sir.”

“Someone’s been learning their manners,” Steve taunted, and it took all your restraint to not snarl at him.

“Easy there, Rogers,” Stark interjected, noticing how your fingers clenched Thor’s flask tighter. “Pretty sure Barnes fucked the brat outta her couple days ago when he came back from that shitshow of mission in Bosnia. Got a lot of pent up rage there, Buck?”

“Mission just put me in a bad mood,” Bucky shrugged. “Either way, I don’t think I fucked all the brat outta her. Got anything left for me, doll?”

“I have nothing for you, you self-righteous, ignorant prick,” you spat venomously.

“There she is. I always love a challenge.” Bucky smirked at how your knuckles were turning white around the flask. “Now didn’t Thor ask you to go fetch us some drinks?”

You huffed, opting to bite your tongue rather than lashing out, and spun on your heel toward the minibar.

Three-months ago, you would never have imagined your internship interview at S.H.I.E.L.D to bring you here. Your interview had been conducted by Captain America himself, and just as things began to look promising, it was interrupted by a sharp knock from Tony Stark. Tony had brought Steve into the hall, leaving the door to the conference room open, and you could only sneak glances through the window of the room, hearing Steve whisper about how it was “a question of morality” while they both kept looking back at you.

You got the position, and the next day, Tony sat you down and gave you an offer.

The Avengers needed to be ‘taken care of’, as he put it, and you being a ‘stress-reliever’ would boost morale around the team. Most of the them never had time for the outside world (apparently saving the world was a big commitment?) and were rarely ever able to make lasting relationships. You could accept the position, be compensated monthy, and get to live in the compound, or you could decline, and walk away with your mouth sealed by the confidentiality contract you signed before the interview. Something about S.H.I.E.L.D. work being linked to a lot of top secret information, meaning you weren’t allowed to speak any details of the job to outside parties unless you wanted to get sued for every penny you were worth.

You had been on the cusp of taking the second option before Tony mentioned your sister’s job as S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent. She was half the reason you’d interviewed for an internship. A couple words from Tony about her possibly falling into a fatal accident on a mission, and you took the position offer in a heartbeat.

You almost overfilled the glass while getting lost in your train of thought. Setting down the bottle of expensive whiskey, you placed the last glass next to the others on the silver tray, and picked it up, gracefully yet begrudgingly making your way back to the small gathering.

“Y/n, finally. We were just talking about who here can make a woman cum the fastest.”

The complete utter bluntness of Tony’s words caught you entirely off guard, and you tripped over your own feet, stumbling in your high heels to keep the tray of drinks from falling before Sam reached an arm out to catch the tray and another arm to hold your hip and steady you.

You ripped yourself from Sam’s touch without acknowledging or thanking him, to disturbed by Tony’s previous words to do so. You began passing out the glasses of dark liquid. “And you’re telling me this why?” Your voice was flat in hopes of showing Tony you were completely disinterested in any plans he might have.

“Why, we need your aid, Lady Y/n,” Thor answered a little too cheerfully for your taste.

“I won’t be partaking in your little immature competition of toxic masculinity.” You crossed your arms and continued. “It makes it seem that women are nothing but prizes. Games to be played by boys as they fight over the highscore. Toys.”

“Aren’t they?” Steve cocked his head, eyes glimmering with amusement while a smirk painted his face. The rest of the men chuckled at his reply.

“I think HR would be shocked to hear that Captain America is being a sexist dick to a woman in the workplace,” you bit back, but your threat was weak and they all knew it.

“I think HR would be to busy writing a condolence letter to your sisters family if, let’s say, on her mission with Sam tomorrow in Russia, a stray bullet hit her,” Steve replied. A quick reminder at the stakes.

Sam clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock sympathy. “Those darn Russians and their careless aim.”

He abruptly pushed himself off the couch and clapped his hands together. “I wanna go first,” he declared.

“Just remember, you can’t use your dick,” Tony added. “Some of us don’t have super soldier serum enhanced fuckwands.”

“Please never, ever say fuckwand again,” Bucky said, scrunching up his nose. “Besides, the hydra serum didn’t do anything down there.” He waggled his eyebrows while elbowing his enhanced counterpart. “Don’t think I could say the same for this punk here though.”

Steve muttered a ‘shut up’ while the group snickered.

All while they compared sizes like a bunch of teenagers, Sam manhandled you onto the coffee table in the center of the couches. You let out a grunt as you were shoved onto your front, stomach pressed into the tabletop while your pelvis was slammed into the edge.

Sam kneeled behind you and brought up two fingers to your mouth.

“Get ‘em nice and wet for me, baby.”

The men around you went quiet, entranced as you reluctantly took Sam’s fingers into your mouth, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them.

When Sam finally pulled them out, he looked back at Tony.

“You ready?” Sam asked.

Sam hiked the flowy skirt of your dress up your legs causing you to squirm and pathetically thrash; a desperate attempt at putting an abrupt stop to this stupid game.

“You’re on the clock.”

At Tony’s words, Sam immediately stopped your desperate attempt at worming away from him by catching you by the back of your neck and slamming you back down hard on the coffee table. Much to your disdain, the rough treatment made you wet, and that was the last thing you wanted them to see.

But when Sam pulled your lacy panties down, you could tell it was the first thing he noticed.

“Fuck babygirl, I didn’t need you lubing up my fingers, you’re already drenched,” he noted.

You let out a soft moan as Sam worked two calloused fingers into your pussy. Although they’re thick and long, they were nowhere near the size of his dick and you silently thanked whatever was out there that he wasn’t splitting you in half with it at the moment. Sam released the grip on your neck, moving to settle the hand on your ass before giving it a light squeeze and a slap that elicited another moan from you. While Sam slowly began moving his fingers- twisting, curling, and pumping them- he leaned over you, caging your body under his broad chest, to speak dirty words into your ear.

“Baby, you’re so wet right now, I think you like having them watch you.” Your cheeks burned in shame while he picked up the pace. “You want them to see how well-behaved you are for me? Want them to see how you come on my hand like a good little slut?” he cooed.

Slow pumps now turned to quick thrusts from his skilled fingers and Sam groaned as you fluttered around him.

“That’s it. You’re taking me perfectly.”

Twisting his wrist so his thumb could also strum your clit, Sam was moving so fast you’d easily mistake him for a superhuman.

“Yes, Sam, please,” you cried out, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Uh-uh, babygirl. Wrong word,” he scolded, although his pace never slowed as his fingers brutally fucked into you.

“Daddy!” you screamed. “I’m cumming!”

You chanted those words, cunt clamping down on his merciless fingers. He gave you no reprieve, mercilessly thrusting into you, until you squirted, your release coating his hand and dripping down his forearm. Only when you were almost crying, did he finally remove his hand from your abused cunt.

“Now that-,” Sam stated, grinning while he stood. “-is how you make a girl come.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever Birdbrain.” You don’t have any strength to look at Tony as he speaks. “Give her a couple minutes before whoever’s next.”

Whatever the conversation was between them (you couldn’t hear it over the buzzing in your brain), it was much too short to your liking. The few minutes Tony gave you only felt like a few seconds before Bucky was getting up.

“Guess I’ll take a crack at it,” he announced, rolling his head from side to side.

“No one says “take a crack at it” anymore, old man.”

“Keep talking when your in last place, Sam,” Bucky quipped, however, his tone was still light.

You felt a metal hand on your hip before you were rolled over onto your back, now facing Bucky while your eyes pleaded with him.

“Please dont,” you croaked.

Bucky just scoffed, kneeling down between your legs and wrapping both arms around your thighs as he pulled you closer.

“Tony?” His hot breath fanned your pussy as he spoke and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Stark said.

Bucky wasted no time the moment the words left Tony’s mouth. He started by licking up from your hole to clit over and over, the lazy stripes already driving you wild. Letting go of one of your thighs to bring his flesh hand to your pussy, he pulled the hood of your clit back, pausing his licking to blow on your engorged bud.

“Such a pretty pussy, doll,” he murmured before turning his head around and speaking louder. “You guys seeing this?”

He moved his head out of the way to showcase your glistening folds. A couple groans from the men on the couches had you trying to close your legs, but Bucky’s grip was like steel (especially considering his hand was metal).

“Wasting time Buck,” Steve commented and Bucky just rolled his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I can still beat Sam and have time left over,” he scoffed.

Bucky directed his attention back to your folds, this time, diving in right away. He still had the hood of your clit pulled back as he encased the bud with his lips causing you to writhe at the intense sensation. And yet, you were held down with practically no effort as he methodically played with you. Each time he groaned against you, you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, and by the time he started sucking on your clit, you were wrecked. Your hand found home in his brown locks of hair while he quickly moved his tongue back and forward on your sensitive nub that was trapped in the vacuum of his mouth. The coil inside you wound tighter and tighter, and suddenly, while Bucky began shaking his head from side to side, it snapped. Your clit pulsed rapidly while encased in his hot mouth, and you screamed, legs locking around his head while your hand held his head in place. He worked you while you rode out your orgasm on his face until you could barely move.

Bucky got up from his knees, grinning down at you, so weak, you couldn’t muster it in you to glare back.

“Now I think I really fucked the brat out of you,” he said. “What was that?” He cupped his ear. “Did I hear a thank you sir?”

“Thank you, sir,” you whimpered weakly.

You were so fucked out, all the next events were but a blur.

Thor had feasted between your thighs the same as Bucky but was more sloppy, although, your body seemed to love ‘sloppy’. His tongue was constantly lashing and worming around your clit, the wet muscle accompanied by lewd slurping sounds, and in record time, Thor’s suckling and licking had you tensing and building up so much that your orgasm felt like a waterfall crashing over your body.

Steve was just as methodical and precise as Bucky, also pumping his fingers slowly in and out of your pussy. He was sweetly slow, dragging out your pleasure to the point where you were begging him to come. His warm tongue dragged across your sensitive cunt, while another hand reached up to grab a breast and pinch a nipple. You felt like your body was on fire. It wasn’t until Steve had inserted a thumb into your ass that he finally allowed your body sweet sweet release.

Your head span as finally collapsing on Tony’s floor, listening to the muffled voices above you.

You didn’t even register Stark’s words as he announced Thor had won and Steve had come in last. You barely even heard Steve’s defense that he was just enjoying himself too much in the moment.

Although ten-minutes later you had a somewhat sense of clarity, after hearing their conversation, you wished you were just unconscious. Even better, dead.

“I’m tellin’ you man, I made her squirt. She definitely came the hardest with me.” Sam’s voice rang.

“Dude- she was literally grinding against my face and holding me in a headlock with her legs,” Bucky argued.

“I literally made the brat beg to cum,” Steve inserted.

“I’d say that by bringing her to release the fastest, it was most intense with me,” Thor declared, victoriously.

You were on the brink of tears as they talked about you. Until another voice cut into the room. A female voice.

“What do you boys think you’re doing?”

It was Natasha. Your head jolted up as you felt a glimmer of hope surge through you.

That glimmer of hope was quickly extinguished at her next words.

“Not inviting me to the boy’s party?” she scolded. “You think a girl might beat you by a landslide?”

Nat squatted down next to you, running a soft hand on your cheek.

“Well you’re right. I’ll beat Thor’s record and cut it in half.”

She began unbuttoning her pants.

“And I’ll do it while riding her face.”

#sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #thor x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark!sam wilson #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky x reader #dark!tony stark #dark!natasha x reader #dark!sam wilson x reader #dark!thor #dark!steve smut

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aureumjeon · 5 years ago

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while you’re at it (m) || pjm

pairing; poolboy!jimin x noona!reader.

genre; smut, fluff, tiny angst.

summary; After finalizing your divorce papers, there was still one thing that had to be taken care of. That stupid swimming pool. Over there course of a few days, you ended up harboring feelings for one of your pool boys. Will things go as planned? Or will everything be flushed down the drain?

warnings; brief mentions of divorce, infidelity and toxic relationship, sub!jimin, dom!reader, barely there bondage, exhibitionism, female masturbation, voyeurism, oral sex (both receiving), body worship, tit fucking, noona kink, praise kink(its jimin ofc), mild degradation, impreg kink, its basically jimin being a whiny soft baby for noona, unprotected sex, multiple orgasm, creampies, cum eating

word count; 11K+ (this was supposed to be around 7-8K only, iduno what happened really)

a/n; ahhhhhh! three minutes late but who careeees. im done, i want to sleep. the smut feels so rushed butill fix it... eventually... lmao, unedited as hell, dont mind the errors... will fix someday. bye

@m0chilattae @ruinedbyjin <33

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Breaking away and cutting ties from your previous and definitely toxic marriage was the best decision you've made bar none. You could no longer stomach the abuse that your now ex-husband had put you through. It was a complete and utter living hell being bound to a man who wasn't who you initially thought he was. Having him crossed out of your life (legally, too) made it a million times easier. It has been exactly seven weeks since you chucked out all of his belongings through the front door. No regrets. And you still didn't want to take notice of the huge elephant in the room — or in the backyard per se. There it sat in the middle of the unkempt grassy area surrounded by leaves and trash, in all of its filthy, disgusting, bacteria and algae infested glory. Your dreaded swimming pool.

You had put-off cleaning it the first week after your separation, saying you're too busy doing this or too preoccupied taking care of that. When in all honesty, you just didn't want to deal with it. You had no goddamn idea how to maintain it. Heck, you didn't even know how to swim. Wonwoo was the main reason why the two of you bought a house that came with it after your wedding. He said he wanted to keep his hobby of swimming alive, understandable since that's where it all began. The two of you met at a university swim meet. You were the designated journalist for that event, assigned to interview all the winners after the competition for the school's paper. Wonwoo bagged the gold medal for the two hundred-meter freestyle, and you interviewed interviewed him and that's where it took off. Everything was running smoothly. One by one every item on your life's checklist got checked-off. After five years of dating, he proposed. A year later you got married and purchased a house together and planned on having children. You even put-off your job as a columnist writer for a high-end magazine company to play out the role of a perfect wife who'd soon take care of her children. You had the ideal life with the ideal husband in an ideal house that any married woman could wish for. You had everything, and in your own little world it was perfect. Until two years into your marriage, everything went into turmoil. Wonwoo suddenly grew cold and insensitive. He didn't answer your calls and text messages whenever he was away. He didn't make love to you the way he used to during your honeymoon phase. And sometimes he would just downright refuse, saying he's too tired and that he wants to sleep instead. You endured and tolerated his behavior for another year, giving him a chance to change his ways. But we all know what happens to second chances, they're wasted. One day, Jihyo sent you a picture of Wonwoo sucking faces with a female swim trainer at the city's public pool. You could not believe it at first, you refused to. Until she sent another image, this one clear as day. It was Wonwoo, positively Wonwoo. You called your older brother Yoongi and told him everything that had happened starting from the day your relationship spiraled into disaster. Like any brother would be; he was furious. He didn't kill the guy though, only gave him a black eye and a broken nose before you threw his belongings out on the pavement. To cut the story short, you found love beside a swimming pool and ultimately gotten your heart broken because of it. When people fall out of love, heart breaks are inevitable. All the more reason as to why you just shoved the idea of cleaning the pool under the rug like small particles of dust and dirt. You just wanted to forget about it, pretend like it didn't exist. If you could only haul that thing out of the ground and throw it out like you did to him, it'd be more painless for you. You took your phone out of your handbag and texted Namjoon. You asked if he still had the number to that all around cleaning service, to which he did, thank god. After saving the number, you called it immediately. Wanting no time to be wasted. "Hello, Good morning! This is Mr. Park of Mr. Park's Cleaning Service, how can we help you?" The bubbly old man chanted his spiel. "Ah, yes, um. This is Y/n Y/l/n, I was wondering if I can avail your services?" "Of course, ma'am!" He chimed, the sound of rustling papers can be heard in the background "What will we have the pleasure of cleaning for you, Ms. Y/l/n?" His tone never changed, still enthusiastic. "Well I have this pool..." You replied quite hesitantly, "And It's been sitting here uncleaned for almost two months." You let out a breathy laugh, fairly embarrassed at your confession. "No problem, Ms. Y/l/n! We've handled worse cases. Two months is nothing! Is it just the pool or would you like us to give your whole yard a fixer-upper?" You sighed in relief. "Y-yes, that would be great! My backyard could use the help, too." "Alrighty then! You don't need to worry about anything! Can I get your contact number and full address Ms. Y/l/n?" Mr. Park sounded like a charming old man, he never judged or asked unnecessary questions, only the ones that needed to be answered. "My number's xxx-xxx-xx and my full address is xxx street, corner xxx at xxx village. When can I expect you to visit, Mr. Park?" "I'll get the boys ready and will be there in about an hour or two to check on the conditions and come up with the most effective strategy. The duration of the process usually takes about three days to a week depending on the situation. It's always better to asses the area first. We'll do the best we can do, Ms. Y/l/n!" You can hear the smile in his voice, never have you encountered someone who's this passionate about his job as much as Mr. Park. "Great! That sounds excellent! Thank you so much Mr. Park! I'll see you later!" "Thank you, too, Ms. Y/l/n! Good bye!" The call ended and you checked the clock. It was a quarter to nine, still a lot of time left before they arrive. You decided to tidy up the place, picking up dirty laundry, washing the dishes, and anything that demanded to be put in its proper place. You accomplished everything in under an hour and decided to lounge around on your couch, still in your black silk nightwear dress that rested a good five inches above your knee. To be fair, you did wake up too early for your liking, and it made you thrice as sluggish than usual. 'Only ten minutes' you reminded yourself because you still needed to shower. Your eyelids felt heavy and the softness of the pillow you were resting your head on didn't help either. 'five more minutes, then it's time to shower, I swear.' Things didn't always go according to plan, of course. You fell asleep.

Your little nap was interrupted by the sound of your doorbell ringing multiple times, "Ms. Y/l/n?! Is anybody home? This is Mr.Park's Cleaning Service." The man on the other side of the door yelled. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. You scramble about you couch only to fall on the floor with a loud thud, "W-wait! Just a minute!" You squealed, heading out to the nearest bathroom to grab your bathrobe and wrap it around your frame. You chugged down and gargled a cup full of mouthwash before spitting it out. "Shit..." You hissed, taming out the fly-aways of your hair and tying it up in a loose bun. Your bangs rested messily on your forehead but you didn't have the pleasure of curling it. So you opted for just sweeping it to the side, making yourself more presentable. "I'm coming!" You yelped, treading to your front door and opening it. The three boys who stood at your doorstep gave you a courteous ninety degree bow. They were wearing those baggy grey work jumpsuits but the sleeveless kind. The boys looked fairly young, with glowing skin and youthful dispositions. They moved back to their upright position and the one in the center greeted, "Good day Ms.---" his eyes widened like saucers, he looked like he had encountered a ghost, and suddenly you were extremely conscious about your disheveled appearance, tucking in stray hairs that dangled around the frame of your face behind your ears. "Ms--" he knew what he wanted to say, it was waiting for its turn to spill out from his suddenly parched mouth. But he couldn't because he was too awe struck at the image of this lovely woman standing before him. They'd done this job a couple hundred times and it was all professional, but this was the first time his heart was completely enamored by a female client. His tongue was undoubtedly caught at the back of his throat and an elbow to his rib by his friend snapped him out of it and transferred him back to reality. "Y/l/n.." He continued, shades of pink trickling his face. "My name is Park Jimin..." "You're Mr. Park?" You giggled, the way your cheeks rounded when you smile matched with your cute dimple almost sent him into the ER due to a cardiac arrest, "You sounded older on the phone." "Uh.. That was my father. I'm just Jimin." He smiled, flustered like a little boy confessing his love for his crush. You beamed at him once more after discovering his name, eyes twinkling more that ever and he caught that. He freaking caught the way your eyes glimmered at him. "If you're just Jimin, then I'm just Y/n." What the hell was that?! You internally screamed at your choice of words, pulling out the non-existent life plug in your head because you wanted to shrivel up like a dehydrated grape desiring to be a raisin and just die. "O-okay, Ms. Y/n.." the way your name rolled so sweetly out of his lips made you shudder, a feeling you hadn't felt in a long, long time spark a flame in the deepest pit of your stomach. You shouldn't be experiencing this urgent sense of infatuation towards a person you only just met, not to mention to someone this young. You reckoned that he was likely five or six years your junior, probably even more. It was a weird sensation. You had no idea where it came from but you were kinda skeptical about the concept of it and where it might lead. Did you hate it? I mean, no, not at all. Were you confused? Most definitely. "This is Jungkook," he gestured to the lad on his left. Jet-black hair, doe eyes, piercings and tattoos, okaaay he's attractive "and this is Taehyung." Your gaze moved to the left, honey brown hair, sultry stare, sharp nose and a chiseled jaw, woah he's attractive too. No wonder Mr. Park's acquiring all the deals in town! His cleaning team is total eye candy. "My dad-- I mean Mr. Park's rheumatoid started acting up a little while ago, that's why he wasn't able to come with us. I hope that's alright with you, Ms. Y/n." There it is again, he said your name again but his voice a little softer this time. He was hoping his father's absence wouldn’t upset you too much. And didn't leave a bad first impression on you. Your name slipping past his lips sent another shock wave throughout your body, faintly stirring up your insides. It took you a good second to reply because you were too busy staring at the way his tongue prodded out of mouth to wet his pink and plump lips. Shit “I-it’s fine..” You gulped, drifting your gaze to your backyard assuming he didn’t see what you just did. “I hope your father feels well soon.” You stepped back a few feet letting the boys with their big tool kits in hand enter. “May we look at the pool, Ms. Y/l/n?” The black haired boy spoke, opening his box of tools and pulling out a smaller black container. “Taehyung and I will do the water testing and everything else while Jimin-hyung here will walk you through the whole process.” “The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish!” Taehyung beamed, boxy smile and all. They all did what they said they’d do. Jungkook and Taehyung were handling all sorts of gadgets and gizmo to test the pH balance, chlorine levels and whatever they need to test. Jimin explained everything in meticulous detail, from the tools that they were using to how they’d clean it. You tried listening intently. You really did! But the addictive saccharine tone of his voice had gotten you too worked up. “And that’s about it,” Jimin happily concluded. “We can start cleaning tomorrow if it’s okay with you,” “Y/n?” He asked reluctantly, watching you stare vacuously at him. “Ah-- Yes. You guys can start tomorrow.” You smiled, flustered and red on the face. He was worried for a moment, he thought you found everything he said was boring. Because all honestly, he knew it was. Jimin dropped out of college to support his father with their family business, being the sole son and successor. It was a gamble, most of his friends would say. "Why'd you give up having an education?" or "What if it goes bankrupt?". Those words were frequently thrown around, but he stuck to his gut. Jimin never wanted anything more than maintaining his father's legacy alive. The one that his father and late-mother created and grew from the ground up. "Great! Kook, Tae, how's everything going?" He hollered to his friends who were still tinkering with their devices at the edge of the pool. "Will be done soon! Give us a minute," Taehyung replied, signaling a thumbs-up to his hyung. "Ahhh! That reminds me," You teetered blithely straight to your equally neglected shed that Wonwoo kept all his tools in. "If you need any tools, feel free to--" You tried to pry the door handle open but it wouldn't budge. "Let me get that for you, Ms. Y/n." Jimin insisted, worrying you might hurt yourself. "I'm okay," You assured the boy, solidifying your grip on the handle, and giving one last firm pull that just might do the trick. Jimin was right. Because the moment you exerted more effort into opening the door, the slim strip of metal that was affixed on the wooden surface snapped off and sent you stumbling back a few steps. You shielded your eyes with your hand and just when you thought your sorry ass was about to hit the grass, you felt something or someone, cradle your fall. A small groan from behind startled you, "W-what?" You removed your hands from your face and saw Jimin lying beneath you, hold on to you by your waist."Oh shit!" You shrieked, promptly scooting away from his lap to check if he's hurt somewhere. "J-jimin! Are you okay?!" concern laced your voice. You scanned every inch of his body for any cuts or bruises. While your face unintentionally came too close to his, he felt your warm minty breath dancing on the tip of his cupid's bow, tickling his lips that were mere centimeters away from yours. And the way his left cheek was conveniently purchased in your hand made him feel the heat blossom under his skin, and presumably creep up to his ears too. Wide-eyed and totally red in the face, Jimin hurriedly stood up from where he was planted, not forgetting to help you as well stand up as well. “I’m fine, Ms. Y/n. You don’t have to worry about--” Before the boy could barely finish his sentence, you were already pulling him by the wrist and ushering him back inside the house. He was trying so hard to resist the blush that had been wanting to be set free. “Jungkook, Taehyung!” You waved, calling out their attention. “You can come inside if you’re finished. I’ll tend to Jimin and see if he has any injuries.” “Yes ma’am!” The two boys chuckled, giving Jimin a playful smirk. “Sit down. I’ll go get my first aid kit.” You spoke before scooting towards the direction of your bathroom. The moment you’ve found yourself looking in the mirror in what seems to be the safest place you could’ve been at this moment, you allow all the accumulated steam out. “F-fuck.” You breathe out a sigh of relief. Finally being able to inhale and exhale enough air with your lungs. Every single moment with Jimin feels like there’s something constricting your chest, blocking all possible airways and cutting off the oxygen in your body. “Get it together, Y/n” You scold yourself, looking at the reflection in the bathroom mirror “You are an adult. An adult who will not let a young man fracture the little sanity you have left.”

On your tiptoes, you reached for the small plastic box on the shelf of your bathroom, taking one last determined look in the mirror and declaring, “You got this.” With that, you step out of the enclosed space with your recovered confidence, not looking back. And there he is again, puppy dog eyes lighting up when he saw your figure reappear in his line of vision. “Ms. Y/n.” He smiled, and there you knew how truly fucked up you were. “God, give please give me the strength.” You chanted in your head, “I got the first aid kit. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Was all that you could say.

It has been exactly five days, eight hours and forty-five minutes since Jimin started working on your backyard. Why do you know that? Well, that boy with those galaxies induced eyes, impossible plump lips and unbelievable muscular body had been lurking and finding his way through the deep recesses of your mind, desperately searching for that imaginary finish line.

Every cell in your body was hyper-aware of your surroundings whenever he was near. You’d get chills when you feel his hot breath fanning against the skin of your nape when he’s behind you asking for some kind of permission. A jolt would run down your spine when he says your name like it’s the only name he’d known besides his. And the way an innocent stare from him would ignite a flame in your core, burning like coal inside a furnace during those cold winter nights. You know of his presence; you know how he makes you feel even when you don’t want it and that scares you.

And now you’re here with your overly eager friend who's ready to lay down all her life savings and then some, just to see you finally get laid after that hideous tragedy.

“Gosh, what do I do?” You groaned, massaging your temples. The headache that you experienced the first time you encountered the boy only tripled in magnitude. It was like the soft tissues of your brain decided that it would be best to act like tectonic plates and tear each other apart. No matter how many pain killers you’ve ingested or how early you slept at night, it always comes back the next day, with a vengeance.

“Give in,” she shrugged, taking a sip from her warm cup of tea. “you’ve got nothing to lose.”

“The only thing I’m losing right now is my sanity.” You grovelled, wanting to pull out all of your hair from its follicles. “I–” You sighed, voice cracking and tear attempting to fall.“I honestly don’t know what to do.”

She offered you a sympathetic look, consoling you with a hand gently stroking your back. “I know, hun. Wonwoo was a douche bag and your divorce was the absolute worst. But… Look at the bright side,” She nudged you on the shoulder and points a finger westward.

“Now that he’s out of the picture, you’re a free woman now, y/n.” Your friend stated as-a-matter-of-fact, wriggling her perfectly done brows at you. She was right, though. There was nothing holding you back except yourself. The two of you looked beyond the glass sliding doors of your patio and watched the group of young men pull every bone and flex every inch of muscles in their bodies trying to make your backyard look like the way it was before.

“I don’t see anything wrong with flirting with your pool boy now that the ring on you finger is gone,” a small tug of her lips went unseen by you as your gaze was still attached to the blond haired boy whose dusting of sweat seemed to reflect and shimmer under the blazing sunlight like those vampire characters from that teen movie. God, how can someone look that ethereal while raking up the pile leaves in your backyard?

“While you’re at it, seeing that you’re too invested in watching him, play with piles of dead leaves,” your head snapped toward her direction as your cheeks turned pink from embarrassment, “might as well fuck him too.” she grins from ear to ear.

Day eight came faster than you had imagined. The boiling of your insides has simmered down immensely since you've accepted all your feelings like the grown adult that you are. You didn't confess, though, there will be a time for that. Also, you can say you've gotten used to Jimin's presence in the short time you've spent with him. He was kind, sweet, caring and considerate to you 24/7 and you've considered every bit of it endearing. You friend was right. "Give in," she says, so you did and you hope everything will eventually fall into place at the right time. Like usual, jimin and his bunch were outside. They were eighty percent done with the pool and all that's left was the landscaping. One by one, bags of dirt, rocks, sand and all the likes were carried by unfamiliar faces to the back yard through your house. Trails of sand were left on the floor akin to a snail's. "We're really sorry for the mess, miss y/n. Don't worry, we'll clean it up." A new face stood beside Jimin. This one looked more mature than the three boys you're already acquainted with. This was your first time seeing him. Raven hair, brown eyes, a attractive face and shoulders broader than the horizon. Wow. Mr. Park's boys just keep getting hotter and hotter. But there's something oddly familiar about him. Maybe you've met him before? Casually crossed paths as strangers? You can't quite wrap a finger around it. "Y/n, this is Jin-hyung." The fair-haired boy stated. "He's Jungkook's older brother." You gasp, finally it connects "R-really?! No wonder you looked familiar!" You heard the boisterous laugh of the younger brother draw closer and then draped an arm around his brother's shoulder. You habitually thought Jungkook was the tallest in the bunch but now that you've seen his older brother and the way he stands a good two or three inches taller says otherwise. "Sooo, who's more good looking, Noona?" Jungkook asked cheerfully, arching his brows as if coaxing you to choose him. "Hmmm..." You hummed dramatically, crossing your arms with one hand cupping your chin. "I really can't say, Jungkook. Your hyung's pretty handsome." You teased. "Nooooona~!" The youngest whined, flailing his arms around like a child. If you hadn't known their ages, you'd assume that Jungkook's an eighteen year old boy with a baby's face attached to an adult man's body. +Flashback+ You learned that over the course of yesterday's dinner. That day marked the seventh day since the boys worked on you backyard. You decided to treat them to a special samgyupsal dinner since they had been working so hard all day and all afternoon. It was a quarter to five, and the boys were about to call it a day when you call them over enthusiastically. Gesturing them to come inside "Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook!" Their mouths hung wide open when their eyes met with the dining table. A dazzling array of meats, soups, vegetables and side dishes were gloriously scattered on the surface. "Wow, Ms. Y/n!" Taehyung beamed, his boxy smile seemed like it was engraved on his face. "What's the occasion?” "Well, since you boys have been working so hard I decided to arrange a little party for you guys. It's the least I can do." You smile. Taehyung and Jungkook looked like they were about to combust. The fragrance of the food delighted their every senses. You hear a faint growl in the background. "Sorry. That was me." Jungkook confessed, his stomach was now hungrier than before. You all laugh. "What are you waiting for? Dig in!" It was like a gun was shot and the race to eat the most food began. You watched them eat heartily, wishing that you had done this sooner to express your gratitude for all the effort the exert. "Aren't you gonna eat, y/n?" You were startled by Jimin voice. You turn to him and receive the look of concern on his face. "I've had my fair share while cooking, if I eat more I feel like I'll throw up." You softly giggled, a shade of pink dusting your cheeks. "And this is all for you." For every little thing he does whether it was deliberately or not, Jimin feels like he's simply digging his own grave. The sound of metal rutting against soil, just a few more digs and he's sure he'll be six feet under. "Ms. Y/n, Ms. Y/n!" Jungkook called, outstretching his hand like a student asking for his teacher's attention. "Yes, Jungkook? Oh, and you can call me y/n, by the way. No need for 'miss'." Jungkook scratched the back of his neck before answering, "Uhm, I dont think I'm in the position to call you that, ms. Y/n " "What about noona?" Taehyung who sits across Jungkook suggested. "Ms. Y/n really been nice to us, like a big sister. Always making sure we're okay." Sister. You practically forgot about your age gap with these kids. With the five-year difference for Jimin and Taehyung, seven for Jungkook, you really felt like an older sister. It wasn't bad, it was lovely actually. Knowing they see you more than just an ordinary client pinched at your heart. And you perceive them as little brother's you never had. One of them, you wished went beyond that. "Yeah!" The black haired boy exclaimed,"Can we call you noona, ms. y/n???" Jungkook looked like a dog, with his eyes all round and tail raised and wagging about. It must feel so great to be young. "Of-- Of course! You can call me noona!" The two boys cheered in unison. The only one quiet was jimin who sat parallel to you.

"Are you okay jimin?" You asked meekly. "I'm fine." He didn't sound like he was fine. "Is there something wrong?" "Ahh, I--" he was stuttering, "Is it okay if I call you y/n instead?" Your eyes widened, you haven't even drank anything alcohol but your face already feels hotter. "S-sure, Jimin." You tried to change the topic by standing up walking over to the refrigerator. "Since all of you are of legal age." You gradually push open metal door and pull out bottles of soju. "You're the best, noona!" The youngest howled, eager to get his hands on the alcoholic drink. "Just promise me you guys won't drink too much. You still have work tomorrow" Like twins, Jungkook and Taehyung held their hands over their heart and recited, "We promise, noona!" With the magic liquid, conversation started flowing more naturally. You promised not to drink but they insisted, nothing worse than your friends peer-pressuring you. "So, noona, where do you work?" Taehyung questioned. He probably noticed you were always at home. "I'm a writer for Seoul Life Magazine, but I do all my work here at home. I rarely have to go to the office." "Really???!!!" His eyes blew up, Taehyung told you he was a fashion design graduate. You expected this reaction from him so you felt pride in telling him where you work. "Wow, noona!" Jungkook said, "My dad said only those who were absolutely good got to work there." "Stop flattering me," You shyly dismiss his praise. "I was an intern there during my concluding year of college. I worked for about three or four years before I got married." Taehyung did a spit take, spraying water all over poor Jungkook who almost choked on a lettuce leaf. Jimin just sat there, watching you laugh at the two comical boys. He didn't know how to react, his hands suddenly went clammy and he couldn't stop shaking his leg under the table. "M-married?" Jungkook said, still not believing what he's hearing "w-where the h-husband?" He felt out of breath due to that damn piece of leaf. "Are you really married, noona?" Taehyung poked, looking at your ringless finger. "I was," Your smile grew weaker, talking about something it always felt weighty. But they deserved to know, they're helping you heal by dealing with something you'd rather not face. "We got divorced." The room went silent. The sound of the crickets outside and leaves swaying with the wind that were previous white noise behind your chattering and laughter seemed like the were obscenely amplified by huge bass speakers. "Can I ask why, noo--" "Jungkook!" Jimin scolded his junior, and this was the first time you've heard/seen him raise his voice to anyone. "Apologize." He stated sternly, not breaking eye contact with Jungkook. "I'm sorry, noona." His head hung low, hair covering his eyes. "J-jimin, I'm sure Jungkook didn't meant to." You reached out to to hold his hand that was resting on the table. "I'm not mad or upset." You looked over Jungkook's direction and continued, "It's okay, I promise." Jimin squeezed your hand tighter, comforting you. "You don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable, y/n." "Y-yeah, noona." Taehyung added, "You don't have to. It's none of our business." Jungkook sat still, eyes glassy and mouth pouty. He absolutely looked like a puppy that had been punished for chewing up its human's shoe. "It's alright," You giggle, extremely touched. "It's been months, I can talk about it." "We met during sophomore year. I was a journalist for the university paper and he was on the swim team." The three boys listened intently, like toddlers during story time. "After five years of dating, he proposed. We got married a year later and moved in here. That," you pointed to the pool outside "belongs to him." "It was his idea to get a house with one, I agreed of course. Only two years after getting married, I found out he was cheating on me." Jimin's features softened at your words. He knows it wasn't easy for anyone to talk about their past heartbreak and traumas. He made sure you weren't alone, he took his free hand and placed it over your hand that he was already holding with the other. He held it tight. "It broke my heart, I really thought he was the one, you know? Almost eight years together thrown in the garbage disposal and shredded to pieces." "He doesn't deserve you, noona." Jungkook finally spoke. "He was an asshole and he doesnt deserve you." "Yeah!" Taehyung agreed, "I kinda don't want to finish the work now." Out of nowhere, you burst out laughing. An invisible weight, sort of a thick blanket was lifted and the atmosphere brightened. "No, no, no!" You can't stop your laughter at this point, what Taehyung said tickled a funny bone. "I still plan on living here, Taehyung! Even if I dislike the pool, it's still part of this home. And the make over was sort of a therapy, you know. Out with the old, in with the new, right?" You ended it with a smile, lips curved beautifully. It was a smile Jimin has seen never seen before. It was light and airy, bright and transparent. There was no pain or distress, just carefreeness. He wished you would smile like this more often, and he also wished he'd someday be the reason for it.

"Just kidding, Jungkook! You're the most handsome." You assured the boy, patting his back. "Sorry, Jin. Your brother's grown on me." "Kook one, Jin zero." The youngest boast over to his brother. "Alright, alright!" Jin interrupted, "Unlike you, some of us need to work. How 'bout you and Taehyung get the transport van back to the office and let Jimin, Hoseok, Yugyeom and I get things done, yeah?" Jungkook clicked his tongue, "Whatever." Their sibling banter has got you missing your brother, mentally reminding yourself to call him later. "Hey, Yugs." You hear Jungkook faintly speak. Two more new faces stood beside Jin. "This is Hoseok and Yugyeom. We'll be responsible for landscaping." Another attractive guy with a million-dollar smile on his face and a tall man with the physique of a runway model. Curse, Mr. Park!! Where does he get all these boys?! "Thank you for having us!" The pair recited. "Oh, no! Thank you for helping out with the renovation." "Ms. Y/n, The boys and I will be outside. We'll be mapping out a plan for the design," Jin announced. "Oh, sure." You answer back, "Take all the time that you need." "Great! We'll report to you once we've finished the draft design. So you can the necessary make changes and adjustments." He beamed, walking towards the back yard. Jimin stood silently beside you, "You do landscaping?" You randomly asked, seeing that Jimin was the only one left from their bunch. Jungkook and Taehyung had long gone. "No," he chuckled, "I just need to watch over these guys. Make sure everything goes well." "That's nice, you're very involved with the work you do." His cheeks blossomed pink, he didn't expect a compliment since he was just doing his job. "I try." He shyly replied, bowing then heading for the glass door. "If you need me, I'll be outside." You waved him goodbye and went about your own business. There were still some articles in your workload that needed to be finished and those emails weren't gonna answer themselves. ++ By the time you were done, it was half past two in the afternoon. You noticed as the days progressed, so did the temperature. You check your phone, only to see that today is the hottest reading yet. Since everything has been taken care of, you decided to take a shower. Appreciating the cold refreshing water on you warm skin. After that, you put on your favorite robe and wrapped it around your damp body. As you were about to step out of the bathroom, you noticed Jimin leaning against one of the pillars of your patio, shirtless. Have your eyes been deceived? They say that seeing believes, but you didn't expect Jimin to be this fit. You offered yourself some slack, since the only part of Jimin body's you've oh so graciously seen are his muscular arms. It wasn't as big as those of a body builder, but the amount of muscle in them has already got you mouth watering. But being blessed with the site of his bare skin and taut abdominal muscles has got you feeling wetter than being in the shower. You couldn't keep your gaze off of him. It was an image that you want to engrave at the back of your head. Your eyes roamed his entire body. Face, neck, shoulders, chest and abs. You wanted to memorize every detail. Every mole, every freckle, every scar that adorned his ivory skin. Just as you were taking your time scanning his entire figure, you were startled when you saw him looking at you staring at him. Your heart began to race inside your chest and you almost forgot you were standing in the middle of your house with only a robe covering your very naked body. You scanned around the area of the yard and Jin and the others we're not in plain sight. You assumed they were working on the farthest side of the lot, where your small garden used to be before you abandoned it all together with the pool. You lock eyes with Jimin again, but this time there was something odd at the way he ogles at you. His gaze was lustful and burning with flames devouring your entirety. His were pupils blown out at the display of your skin. He looked pained, his teeth biting harshly at his bottom lip as if he wanted to draw blood. At that point it dawned on you. You know why he seemed so agitated, squirming in his seat. He wanted to see more, see more of you. A wave of unknown confidence washed over you. You didn't know where the hell it came from. Maybe it was from his deadly stare, maybe it was just you. Either way, you were so totally taking advantage of it. Without breaking eye contact, you found purchase at the same seat from which you watched the boys worked while having a chat with your friend. Sensually lifting the hem of your robe up your thighs and spreading your legs open for Jimin to see. "F-fuck," He groaned, hands balling into fists. He glimpsed over to the other men who were still occupied with what they were accomplishing. His attention was back on you, giving you a small nod. The fervor that coursed through your body was incomparable to anything you've experienced before. The Adrenaline was starting to kick in, and you felt hot-blooded. You temperature went up ten degrees higher and you felt delirious. You knew there was a possibility that you were gonna get caught, but screw it. You've never felt like this in your whole twenty-nine year of life. You're gonna enjoy it, basked in it. Jimin's eyes were plastered at your dripping core, lump in his throat and completely mesmerized at its beauty. Your juices sinfully coating you slit. He swore if there wasn't anybody else around, he would have ravished you pussy like an animal. Since you're out here giving him a show that he'll never forget, might as well savour it. He thought things couldn't get any better with you sex on display for him, you open up your legs even more in a whole new different angle. Putting all those gymnastics training to good use. He can virtually see your pink walls with the position your in. He couldn't stop imagining him burying his hard cock inside your tight cunt. Sucking him in when every thrust he made. You left hand slithered its way down to your soaked core, playfully stroking your folds. If Jimin was beside you, he could no doubt hear the way your cream coated skin squelched with every motion you made. Your idle hand managed to loosen the knot of your robe, allowing it fall from your shoulders exposing your round, supple breasts. Nipples instantly hardening at the sudden exposure to the air. Shit, he'd kill just to have his lips around those perky little nipples, sucking on then voraciously until you moan out his name. You could not take all this self-teasing anymore. Jimin's eyes gauges out of its socket as you dip a finger into your damp hole. Jimin thought the heat from the sun was bearable. He'd worked for long hours under it and never complain. But this, you fingering yourself with one hand while the other pulls and twists on your abused nipple was unbearable! The ache between his legs was excruciating he had to casually palm himself. Slightly shifting and bending this leg so that he wasn't noticeable. Another finger goes in, and he's cupping himself harder. He observed your face contort with pleasure at the way you're plunging and curling your two fingers inside of you. Your arousal spilling at the edge of you battered hole, streaming down and accumulating just above your puckered hole. That should be him, he mumbled to himself. Your slender fingers wouldn't be able to satisfy you, unlike his throbbing cock caged inside his boxers, wanting to be set free. Jimin's practically squeezing his dick at this point now, he just wants nothing but to release his ropes cum on you breast while you pleasure yourself. You felt your walls clench around your digits, signalling you that you were nearing climax. You gotta make this quick, Jin, Hoseok or Yugyeom can walk in on you anytime. Adding one last finger, hoping the stretch will help you jump over the edge, you pummeled your cunt with all the strength that you had left. A small moan left your lips and your release came squirting. Coating the marble floor beneath you. Jimim was just as wrecked as you were. His chest was heaving heavily up and down. The only difference was you reached climax, and he didn't, he couldn't. You were steadying you breathing just when you hear Jin yell, "Yo! Jimin! I need you to--" his voice was getting louder and closer. Wide-eyed, you look at Jimin. Mouthing him "Do something!" While you pull yourself together and grab a piece of tissue to wipe your juices off the floor. When you looked up, Jimim wasn't there anymore. He somehow managed to stop Jin from coming any closer to the house from how faintly you hear his voice outside. You sighed and went back to your room. “We’ve done everything we could do today, Ms. Y/n,” Jin happily announces, standing in front of you with his million dollar smile adorning his equally valued face. “We’ll continue everything tomorrow!” “G-great!’ You croaked, substantially tilting your head to see what’s going on behind the tall man’s back. Hoping to catch a glimpse of Jimin. “Ms. Y/n?” he waved his hand in your face, snapping you out of it. “Are you okay?” “Yeah.” You barely reply. Before he could turn his back on you, you managed to pull on his sleeve. “W-where’s Jimin by the way?” He looked surprised, pondering why you’re asking for the boy. “He went back first,” Jin witnessed your facial expression drop, “He said he wasn’t feeling too good.” “O-oh,” you frowned once more, your browns knitting together at the center of your forehead. “Please tell him to get well soon.” “Of course,” He bowed and bid farewell.

Tomorrow comes and Jimin was nowhere to be seen. Jin said Jimin was still feeling under the weather and took the whole day off from work. While that may seem plausible, it didn’t sit well in your gut. You felt like there was something off with Jimin. Never has he been absent since the first day he worked for you. What is that little stunt you pulled off yesterday, you thought to yourself. Were you really that repulsive to the point that it had gotten him sick? Did you ruin your chances of having something more than just a short time fling with the most charming boy you’ve ever met? What if he never wanted to see you anymore, what would you do then. Those kinds of thoughts were inevitable, of course. It was all you could think of the entire day. So that night, you decided to send him a text message, the first one too. From you: Hi Jimin. Jin told me that you fell ill. Try not to over work yourself next time. I hope you get well soon. -yn Jimin stared stupidly at the screen. Thinking of what to reply or if he should reply at all. Several words typed then deleted. He genuinely didn’t know what to say to you. He was ashamed of what he’s shown and with his lack of self-control. He felt appalled with himself. How could he disrespect you like that? You were a client. A client and worker relationship weren’t prohibited, not at all. It was just his work ethics that wanted everything to be strictly professional, he knew how important your role is to their business. The last thing he wanted was to tarnish what his father built from the ground up with a scandal. So he decided to not let his personal life get involved with his work life. It just makes things complicated, like it is right now. The ‘can’t go to work, feeling sick’ wasn’t wholly a lie. The pain wasn’t physical, it was abstract. And no medicine can induce the pain go away, until he saw your following message. From you: Also, I wanted to talk to you about something. It doesn’t have to be right away, you should rest first and get your health back up. Just message me whenever. Goodnight, Jimin.

There really was no way out, huh. The next day comes and still no Jimin. That was when you confirmed it. You’ve completely and utterly ruined everything. He did not reply to your messages and didn't even want to see your face. It felt like the ground underneath you cracked opened and devoured you whole. That was the very first time in your life that you’ve acted so venturesomely, look what is has cost you. You blame yourself because there was no one else you could point a finger at. Things wouldn't end up the way they are now if you just stayed in your fucking lane. All of this was your fault. You looked back at all the events that happened to you and realized, maybe it was inevitably your fault. Wonwoo wouldn’t have you left if he saw a reason not to. Jimin wouldn’t be ignoring you if he had a reason no to. The course of the entire day was spent with you cooped up inside your room, wallowing away in your own self-pity. You politely told Jin that you needed some time to be alone and he can decide whatever is best for the landscaping. It was around seven in the evening, Jin bid farewell and suggested that if you needed anything, you could call him up. That was extremely thoughtful of him, you think. Another hour passed and the doorbell rings. You weren't expecting anyone though, so you were quite puzzled as to who it might be. The front door open and you see Jimin. He was wearing a navy blue dress shirt that was folded up to his elbows, wow. Sleek black slacks for pants that cinched his slim waist and leather dress shoes to put everything together. What's the occasion, you thought. "Oh, Jimin" you hid the nervous of your voice by pulling him into a hug "I-its good to see you again, what brings you here? Are you feeling better?" "Ah, yes. I'm sorry for being absent these past few days." His head was hanging low and his eyes were looking elsewhere just to avoid yours. "I wanted to apologize." He finally looked at you with his brown orbs that were displaying sincerity. You ushered him to come inside and take a seat on your couch. "Apologize?" You asked, a little bit perplexed "For what exactly?" "For what I did," his voice grew feebler "I shouldn't have done what I did. I shouldn't have disrespected you like that. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you just because I felt the heat of that moment. I'm sorry, y/n. I swear I'm better than that." "Oh, Jimin." You smiled tenderly, cupping his plump cheeks with your hand. "I think it's the other way around. I should be the one apologizing. Back then, I couldn't control myself when I should have. After seeing you, all the emotions I've put aside unexpectedly erupted." With your unoccupied hand, you tightly held his. "The truth is, you really have grown on me in all the best way possible. Initially, I thought it was just the backlash of my divorce egging me. I thought maybe my mind was looking for a rebound to dull the ache. But..." Your eyes started becoming glassy. You felt him clutch you hand tighten spurring you to continue "I think that's not it. I know it isn't. You've been nothing but a blessing to me, Jimin. An absolute angel. You're sweet, kind, caring, understanding, ugh--" You mocked frustratingly, letting out a small giggle. "You're perfect. I couldn't see anyone that wouldn't fall for you like I have." Jimin's face reflected what he felt at that moment, relief. This wasn't what he was expecting, hence why he averted the confrontation as best as he could. You were the one who was perfect and completely out of his league. You were a beautiful and capable independent woman that any man would kill for. Your ex-husband was beyond stupid to play with your feelings like he did, he knows. But if it wasn't for your ex's stupidity, he wouldn't be here facing the only woman he'd want to be with for the rest of his life. "I thought you wouldn't like me since I was older--." "Stop." He interrupted, stroking his fingers through your locks while gazing at your gorgeous features. The staring contest ended with the both of you smacking lips, eager to taste what has been endured for so long. Impatient longing was evident in every kiss, lick, bite and tug. You kissed him so fervently that his back was digging against the backrest of the sofa. One of your legs seemed to have a mind of its own and positioned itself to straddle him. "Are you sure you want me?" You queried the boy beneath you, your tone much mischievous from before, it was like there was a flipped switch somewhere. The noticeable change in the atmosphere has got him simply nodding, excited to know there was this side of you that he has not witnessed before. He watched you as you steadily unravel your blouse's satin belt and started to gently caress his wrist. "Would you mind if I tie up these pretty hands of yours?" You hummed, pulling on his hand up to you face and sucking on his middle finger and ring finger. The sensation of your wet mouth around his digits caused his brain to send signals down there. He could already feel himself get rock hard inside his jeans, thinking about how tight your mouth would be if he shoved his dick down you throat. But he'll save that for another day because right now he just wants to let you do what you want to do with him. Right now, he is yours for the taking. You urged him to lean a little closer to you. His face now between the valley of your breast as you meticulously tie his hands behind his back. You pushed him back to his previous position and inquired, "Do you want me to cover your eyes as well?" He shook his head in protest and said, "N-no. I want to see you." There was a pause as he manages to catch his breath, "I-I wanna see you while you make me feel good." You nodded, brushing his hair out of his sweat slicked forehead. From his head, your hand slid lazily down to his neck, to his chest, to his stomach and finally to the growing bulge inside his pants. You palm him unhurriedly, taking your time. Tracing your fingertips over the curve of his caged penis. "Y-y/n.." Jimin griped, observing your hand press against his erection. Somehow enduring the excruciating pain, your teasing had sown. "Can I ask you one last favor?" You purred, peppering his neck with kisses and sucking purple bruises here and there. "W-what is it?" he managed to reply, reveling in the way your teeth nipped against his delicate skin. "Call me noona," Jimin was silent, somewhat waiting for an explanation. When you told him the first time, he met you that he can call you by your first made him feel special because only he could do that. The other workers call you 'Miss' and Jungkook and Taehyung declared you as 'our noona'. "N-noona-" Jimin whined, bucking his hips harder against you hand. He saw your pupils dilate as the word escaped your lips, inflaming something inside you. "Jimin," you growled, squeezing his around his girth ferociously. Buttons were unfastened one after the other, exposing his refined chest and taut muscles. Out of nowhere, you felt raunchy. The tips of your fingernail slowly dragged themselves across his torso, leaving streaks of red in its track. He flung his head back, enjoying the sting that danced on his skin. Jimin squirmed as he felt your weight suddenly leave his lap. His neck snapped back to your direction and damn, what a sight to see. You tucked between his legs and unzipping his pants exposing his angry red-tipped cock oozing out beads of pre-cum. He smirked as he saw you involuntary lick your lips. "You like what you see, noona?" "God, yes." You exhaled, wrapping both your hands around his shaft not because you wanted to, but because it was necessary. Your tiny, little hand could barely encompass his circumference. "Noona's gonna me you feel good, baby." You felt Jimin's dick twitch by the given pet name. "Noona," he groaned, thrusting his member in your grip just to feel any sort of friction. Sensually, you undid your bloused and hurled it somewhere on the floor followed by your bra, exposing your bare chest to the boy. Jimin jerked in his seat, wanting to grab and knead you breast with his own hands. It looked even better up close. The skin smooth and flawless, nipples pert and hard due to the frosty air. "Fuck" he hissed through his teeth, if he could get his mouth on those buds he'd suck them dry and pull it between his teeth making you cry out. "Behave." You scolded him, eyes staring daggers. He stayed in place once again, not wanting to vex you in any way.

You ran the flat of you tongue on the underside of his length, feeling his skin pulse at contact. Salaciously making your way to its head, you began circling his narrow slit with the tip of your tongue. Feeble moans were the only things escaping his pretty mouth. You seized this moment to swallow him whole down to the hilt, fighting your gag reflex. Your mouth has never felt this stuffed as you moan in satisfaction. Jimin felt the vibration of your throat around his cock, tightening around it. You languidly started bobbing your head up and down, bottoming out with every stroke. With a lewd pop, you tried pulling your mouth off his cock. Strings of saliva dribbled from your lips connecting to his tip. You push yourself up slight and proceeded painting your nipples with the concoction of you saliva and his pre-cum that was coating the tip of his penis. "How does this feel?" You cooed, sandwiching his hard member between your two breasts, erotically pumping the tender flesh up and down his length. "So so gooood, noona" Jimin wheezed blissfully. The sensation of his cock wholly enveloped by your soft mounds is inclining him over the edge. "Noona," he wailed shutting his eyes, the urgency of wanting to release washing over him. By the look of things, you guess he's close. You quicken the pace, feeling the skin of you breast chafe due to friction but you don't care. You clamped your hand on your boobs harder to tighten its hold around his cock and pump faster and faster and faster until he's cumming on you tits. "Shit, noona," Jimin stressed, his breaths labored. You watched as his chest heaved up and down, supplying him with the oxygen he needs after such an intense climax. "Oh no. Look at the mess you made, Jimin." You shook your head, pointing to your breast painted with his milky liquid. "I don't like messes," You sing-song, pushing yourself back up to straddle him once more. You clasped your finger under his chin and commanded, "clean it." His heart stammered in his chest. This is it. This is what he desired. Your perky nipples snug between his lips while your back arches in euphoria. He aggressively lapped up his juices from the skin of your chest with his tongue, leaving no trace of the substance behind. Up and down, left and right, there was no area left untouched by his wet greedy muscles. If he could only see the contorted position he put himself in just to taste you. He doesn't give a shit anymore, he'll gladly eat his cum out of you asshole if you asked. He obscenely sucked you left nipple first, earning the tiniest moan from you. Alternating between light nips and starved slurps, abusing your bud. He then moves to your right nipple, the more sensitive one that has you immediately grinding your clothed core against his semi-hard on. "Let me make you feel good, noona." He desperately whined, concealing his face in the nook of your neck inhaling your fragrant scent. You quirked a brow and asked while weaving you digits through his sweat-damped hair. "What does my baby have in mind?" "Let me.." he croaked. "Louder. I can't hear you." "Let me eat you out, noona. Let me make you feel good." He begged with pleading eyes , fidgeting his hands that were behind his back, trying to untie the belt that was restraining him. "I can make you--" "If you take those off I am kicking you out." You threateningly glared at him, voice deadly like venom. Jimin was scared shitless. He could do nothing but sit silently and obey. "I-I'm sorry, noona. I didn't mean to make you mad." This boy. It may seem like you're the one in control but it is you who are actually wrapped around his little finger. Giving in to what he wants. "It's okay, baby." you massaged his tensed shoulders, soothing him down. "I'll still let you eat me out if you promise not to take off your restraint." You sounded so sweet, the exact opposite of what you were minutes ago. Not wanting to piss you off more, Jimin nodded. You helped him lay down the sofa, propping his head underneath a throw pillow. You stepped to the side and shimmied your pants off. His eyes trailed the article of clothing peeling off your body. When the pair of jeans were long gone, his gaze was attached to your still clothed core. A small wet patch sticking to your folds in the middle was visible. You prop a leg over him, climbing on top of his chest, finding purchase when his face is below your pussy. He could smell the scent of you arousal. Filling up his nostrils and intoxicating his entire nervous system like it's some kind of poison. This by far was the best angle he's seen you in. Seeing it up close, he wished he could at least touch you… You moved into a considerably better position, if you buck your hips the slightest bit, if will directly collide with his mouth. "This what you want baby boy?" You teased, lowering you center on the tip of his nose. Overpowering him even more. "Yes, yes, yes!" He cries out, "I want nothing but your pussy, noona!" You snickered at how desperate he has become, "Who knew you were such a little bitch, Jimin. Loving the way you hands are tied up and thirsting over my pussy." "Yes! I want to taste you, noona. I want to make you feel good until you're squirting all over my face like you did before on the floor. Then I'll eat you up so good, so clean." "Good boy." You thrummed, ultimately taking off your underwear. Letting him marvel at the sight of your woman hood. Clean Shaven, baby smooth, and tulip pink. Without warning, you hastily maneuver yourself, grinding your core against his face. "Put your filthy mouth to good use and make me cum." The sounds he was making were borderline pornographic as hell. His slurps and moans blessing your ears, making your insides rut. He'd occasionally prod his muscles inside your hole then flick on your clit relentlessly. The tensed coil finally snapped and you chase you high by grinding against his face. He's devouring you out like a man starved, sucking out and drinking all the juice your pussy was providing him. Wanting nothing but to be selfish, and have you for himself. He licked you clean, not wasting a single drop of your delicious cum. "I didn't know you were such a disgusting slut for pussy, Jimin." "I, I only want your pussy noona… no one else's." He confessed. "On your knees." You demand. "H-huh?" "I said on you knees. You slut." Jimin dropped down on the floor waiting for your next command like the slut he is. "Tell me how much you want to fuck me." "I-I.." He stuttered with his words, and it made you infuriated. "I said. Tell me how much you want to fuck this tight pussy of mine." You bellowed, your words bouncing off the walls of your living you. "I want to fuck you so much, noona! I want to bury my cock so deep inside your pussy until I reach your cervix then I'll fuck you some more. I want nothing but to fill you up with my seed and put a baby in you, noona! I'll fuck you so good that you'll want to you pussy filled by me every day!" He cried, plunging his head on the floor in a begging for your life bow. "Please, please, please!" Jimin was hysterical at this point, screaming and begging you to let him fuck you. "Noona, please. I'll fuck you so good that you'll forget about all your problems." You shiver at his submission and once again, he's got you eating at the palm of his hands. You freed his wrist and he lunges at you, hustling you up against the wall. "Noona," he breathed in the smell of your shampoo, steadying his hands on your hips fingers digging into your skin. "You don't know how much I wanted to put my hands on you. I can't take it anymore, noona." he pressed his erection against your slick folds "I need to be inside you." "Then show noona what that dirty cock can do." you smirked, challenging the boy. He gripped both of your thighs and carried you to the dinner table. Laying you down before spreading your legs open for him. He aligned his cock to your entrance, pushing gradually, inch by inch until he bottomed out. The stretch was incredible, you were already dripping wet but there was still the sting that lingered from his size. Your walls were trying resisting the force, convulsing around his length spontaneously. "You're tighter than I've imagined, noona." You did kegels around him, eliciting a sharp groan from the boy. "Fuck, Noona. You were made for my cock." You hummed in agreement, relishing the sensation of him pushing in and out of your tight hole. "Baby.." You moaned wantonly, elevating you butt so that he could have a better angle while penetrating you ruthlessly. "Your thick long cock is the best I've ever had. Better than my ex-husband's pathetic excuse for a dick." His ego doubled at your praise, pride blooming in his chest. "More, noona.. please tell me how great my cock is for you.." "Ahhh-- ahh. Jimin!" You bit your lip, clenching around him. "You're taking remarkably good care of noona. Fucking your noona so good. I love your cock so much. I want you to fill me up with you cum. Yeah? Hmmmm. Make your noona the happiest by cumming inside my pussy." There was the push he needed, he was plunging further into you. He felt the barrier of your cervix and broken through it before spilling all his seed into your womb. You quickly followed when you felt the warmth of his juices flowing into you. Your velvet walls convulsed around his cock, milking him for all his worth. Silence fell on the both of you, only the south of your panting and harsh breath resonated. You supported yourself up with you elbows as Jimin pull out his now flaccid penis. You felt the trickle of both of your releases slobber out of your sore hole. "Baby, do noona a favor and clean up the mess you've made with your mouth." Jimin without hesitation obeyed and dove right in. Making sure to get every last drop of yours and his cum with his tongue. He lifted his head, mouth glistening from your juices. You pulled him closer to pet his held. "You were such a good boy for noona. Bring me to bed." He obliged, carrying you bridal style to your room. His muscles rippling under your stripped body. "Noona?" He questioned while his face was still cuddling your tummy. "Hmm?" "Did I make you feel good?" You lifted up his face and said, "You made me feel so good, baby." You assured, loving the way his eyes turn into crescent moons endearing when he smiles. "Can we do that again? But this time I want the blindfolds." He flashed a cheeky grin. You smirked at his innocence, placing a kiss on his temple. "Of course, baby. We have all the time in the world." ++ The sound of knocking on your front door wakes you up, seems like this is will be a regular thing now. You managed to put on an oversized shirt and underwear on before heading to the source of the noise. You opened the doors at was bet by Jungkook and Taehyung. "Good morning, boys." You yawned, gesturing them to come in. "Uhm. Good morning, noona" Jungkook croaked, pushing his senior to speak on his behalf. "See, we haven't heard from Jimin since last night so uh-- it's just jungkook and I that'll be finishing up work today." Taehyung stated. "About that…."

You heard the door of your room creak open and out comes Jimin with nothing but this boxers on and hickeys all over his neck and chest. The two boys looked at each other dumbfoundedly and once they've put two and two together, huge grins were plastered on their faces. End

tell me what u think pls

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feeling-uncomfy · 4 years ago

Text

This is for u @trademarked-but-not-really do with it what you will :D

There is a blood warning, just a heads up!

Also, Hawks platonically calling Tokoyami baby bird gives me serotonin —

"Goodbye, sir." Tokoyami waved from the front door of Hawks's agency. The sun was setting slowly, the sky was a warm orange colour. Hawks grinned and shot a feather to bump his interns shoulder, hands occupied. "Dont forget to text when you get back to the dorms, okay?" Tokoyami let's out a huff but nods and walks out of the building. Hawks sighs, another day done.

The other sidekicks left in an orderly fashion, each getting the paperwork finished relatively easily, so Hawks was left alone after a half hour. He sighed and looked down at the paperwork left unfinished.

It was his, so Hawks had no excuse to not have it done. Plus, the commission had been on his ass recently regarding his lack of monthly check-ins, which annoyed the winged hero. Why should he still have to answer to them? Hawks huffed and sat down, prepared to sit there and get it done.

Until there was a loud bang at the door.

Hawks sprang up. He had just closed up, why was someone there? He left his office and walked down the hall. He was about to tell whoever was there to piss off, but what he was met with made him freeze.

"Tokoyami?! What—?" Hawks walked up to the door, where Tokoyami was hunched heavily over it, clearly trembling. He didnt look up when Hawks approached, which worried him. "Kid? What's going on?"

Hawks opened the glass door, and Tokoyami fell through. Hawks let out a shout of alarm and picked his intern up, and set him on his feet. "Kid...?" Tokoyami still hadn't responded, his hands were clamped down on his beak, shielding it. Hawks couldn't help the confused expression rise on his face.

"What happened? Answer me, kiddo." He went to touch Tokoyami's beak, but the teen jerked out of his grip, and swayed dangerously on his feet. Hawks stared. It was like he couldn't stand straight.

"Kid, I need to see your face, can you do that?" Hawks asked softly, moving closer. Tokoyami let out a pained noise in the back of his throat, but moved one hand. Hawks inhaled sharply. There was blood coating his hand, and it looked like the flow hadn't stopped.

Hawks was immediately put on edge. "Tokoyami, who did this." His voice had lost all hospitality, and Tokoyami scrunched up, clearly taken aback by the dramatic change. Hawks asked again, more urgently this time. Tokoyami couldn't get the words out.

"Did— didnt know what to—" Tokoyami shut his eyes tight again, his whole body tensed as another load of pain shot through his head. It was enough to make him stumble again. Hawks caught him easily, and moved him to the couch. Hawks didnt like how slurred and messed up his interns speech had become.

"Right, stay here, I'll go get you a first aid kit, okay? We'll fix this." Tokoyami didnt react. Hawks got worried. "Kid? Open your eyes, kid" Tokoyami's eyes opened slowly. They were glazed over and lidded. Hawks cussed. "Okay, okay. I'll be right back. Try stay awake for me." Tokoyami's eyes shut.

Shit. Did Hawks need to go to the hospital? Maybe? He should ask Eraserhead? No, the last time he asked about bird related things, Eraser said 'Hawks you're supposed to be the bird expert here.' and hung up on him. So no homeroom teacher. Maybe Dark Shadow would come out and give him answers.

Speak of the devil, Dark Shadow came round the corner. He didnt say anything, but turned and went back the way he came. Confused, Hawks followed. Tokoyami had moved from the couch to the ground. Hard, judging by the fact that the tremors had gotten worse.

"Fuck! Okay, I'm back, come on, up you come." Hakws gently moved Tokoyami to the couch again and opened the first aid kit. Tokoyami sank boneless into the plush couch, and his eyes shut again. Hawks slowly moved to peel his interns hands away from his face.

They didnt budge at first. "Come on kiddo, this'll make it hurt less, promise." Hawks coaxed gently. Tokoyami shuddered as both hands were placed on his lap. Hawks stared at the mess. It was hard to see where the blood was coming from, but there seemed to be a nasty gash across somewhere.

Hawks decided to ease his kid into it by starting at his hands. "Do you know what happened?" Hawks asked gently, pulling out a cleaning kit and wiping the red off Tokoyami's hands. His intern tried once again to get the words out, but it came out garbled and wrong. Dark Shadow came out, resting on Tokoyami's shoulder. "He cant talk properly." The shadow explained quietly, and Hawks nodded, shoving his anger down.

"Can you tell me what happened then? I really need answers here." Hawks was only partially frustrated at the lack of answers he was getting. Dark Shadow grew considerably in size. "Some asshole who doesn't like people with animal type quirks jumped us." Tokoyami's hands started shaking violently as Hawks shot up, wings flaring out.

"Are you fucking kidding me—?!" Hawks yelled. The first aid fell to the ground with a clang, and Dark Shadow flared up more. Hawks took a breath, calming himself. He picked the kit back up and silently cleaned the rest of Tokoyami's blood off of his hands. Tokoyami's hands still shook on Hawks's grip, he realised.

They came to the beak. "How much does it hurt? On a scale of one to ten." Hawks tried to gauge the reaction of the teen, reaching out. Tokoyami shifted back, shrugging. Dark Shadow answered before Tokoyami had a chance to. "He wants to tell you it's not that bad, but it hurts a lot. A solid nine point five." Hawks bit his tongue to stop himself from yelling again.

Tokoyami looked betrayed, but nodded in confirmation. Hawks exhaled slowly. "Okay, we'll I'm gonna give you something for the pain, and then I'll treat you. That sound good?" Tokoyami looked uncertainly over at the meds. More specifically, the needle. It took Hawks a second to realise why.

"...You dont like needles?"

A teen shook his head. That's all Hawks needs. He sits quietly, thinking. How was Hawks supposed to do this? Tokoyami starts opening his beak, but immediately makes a noise of pain and closes it. Dark Shadow doesnt translate.

Tokoyami tried again, slower and much more muffled than usual. "You... dont have to worry... I can—" He cuts himself off with a wince of pain, hand flying up to his beak again. Hawks takes his hand away, gripping tight. "Its okay, dont push yourself."

Hawks looks around for a distraction. If he can manage to get Tokoyami's mind off of the needle situation, Hawks might be able to inject him without a problem. He's used those drugs on his sidekicks and himself before, and they work fast, and are completely safe, a bonus. Plus, considering how small his intern is, Tokoyami should be put straight out, the stuff is strong.

Hawks's eyes land on the T.V. and he grins. He turns it on and flicks through the channels. Someone catches his attention. "Hey, isnt that Eraserhead?" He stops on a talk show. There, in all his glory, is the class 1A homeroom teacher. "He doesn't look very happy." Hawks laughs. Tokoyami is staring, seemingly occupied.

Hawks let's him watch for a little longer, setting up the needle. Dark Shadow noticed, but said nothing and continued to watch. Eventually, Hawks finally deemed Tokoyami distracted enough and quickly injected the needle into his interns arm. Tokoyami visible jolted, but the drugs worked fast and Tokoyami fell quiet, and slumped against the couch after a minute.

Hawks sighed. "Sorry kid..." Hawks turned him over, and got to work quietly. Tokoyami's beak was fragile, so Hawks had to work gently. He wiped a considerable amount of blood away and saw it. He wasnt surprised that it hurt. There was a large gash sliced over the right side of his kids beak. It was a messy cut, so obviously Tokoyami had either been moving or the person had shaky hands. Or both.

Either way, Hawks wasnt letting them away with this. He was gonna hunt the fucker down himself if that's what it took. He cleaned it up and was going to bandage it when Tokoyami's hand shot out and gripped Hawks's arm tight. Tokoyami's eyes were barely open and it looked like he was completely out of it.

Hawks chucked. "Alright bud, go back to sleep—" Tokoyami cut him off. "Hawkszzzz. There'sss dis guy. Dis guy and he keepssssss..." he trailed off, mumbling nonsense. Hawks stopped. A guy? He must really be out of it. Tokoyami continued. "He keepsss followin' me! Amd I dont know why... hess freaky dough. I domf like it."

Well, now Hawks was concerned. Before he could ask any questions, Tokoyami had gone slack again, his breathing evened out. Hawks didnt think much of it, and just bandaged him up. Hawks sat back with a sigh, looking at his work. Tokoyami was oddly calm, Dark Shadow no where in sight.

Hawks turned off the T.V and got up. He'd have to call Eraserhead once he was finished up with his interview, and judging by the yelling he heard, it wasnt going very well. Hawks looked down at the sleeping teen. He couldn't leave him on the couch, but he didnt want to risk injuring him further by moving him and fucking dropping him, which, knowing Hawks's luck, was a very real possibility.

Hawks decided it would be safer to just grab a blanket and wrap his intern in it. At least he'd be comfy, right? Hawks grabbed the fluffy one he'd seen the kid eye after a rough patrol. Hawks manoeuvred the kid and wrapped him into a mini burrito. Hawks smiled and decided fuck it, the kid was up, might as well move him. He carefully walked down the hall towards the elevator.

He asked himself where he would put the kid. The simple answer was to put him in Hawks's room, but his office was all the way down at the bottom floor. Would Tokoyami be able to handle the elevator if the drugs are still in his system when he woke up? Hawks sighed and brought the paperwork with him, playing the safe game.

Hawks sets his kid in his bed, and does the rest of his work quietly, feathers keeping a close watch on his kid as he sleeps without a problem. Hawks finishes his work and sits back, eyes closing. He drifts off, his feathers still active.

The next morning, his feathers woke him. Tokoyami is moving. Hawks groans and stands up, stretching and walking to his room. Tokoyami is sitting up, hands touching his beak with obvious confusion.

Hawks laughs and pushes his intern back down on the bed. "Go back to sleep, baby bird. It's still early." Tokoyami nods and curls up, still feeling exhausted. Hawks sits himself on the edge of the bed, watching his intern as his chest rises and falls. Hawks gets bored after a while, leaving as his phone buzzes.

Erasurehead? This should be fun. Hawks leaves and puts it on speaker. The angered shout that greets him tells Hawks everything.

"Hawks! You are aware of what a curfew is, correct?" Aziawa yells. He's in class as they speak. The rest of the class is confused. Bakugo rolls his eyes and Mina pokes at Asui and whispers something.

Aziawa continues without a pause. "Because I know damn well that Tokoyami wouldn't break curfew, so where is he? I swear if you tell me he's in hospital again." At this Hawks winced as the class perks up on the other end of the line. "Again?" Midoryia turns to Todoroki, who shrugs.

Hawks laughs. "Well, you'll be glad to know we didnt have to bring him this time, but—" Aziawa cuts him off. "Then why isn't he in class?!" Hawks sighs. "Some guy jumped him on his way to the train station, okay? They hit him hard, too."

The class grows nervous as Aziawa stays silent. Whatever Hawks had said must have either shocked him or caught him off guard. "Are you serious? Why—?" Hawks answers with a shrug. "Dark Shadow said something about animal-based quirks."

"Really? Just because of his appearance—" the class falls quiet again. Kirishima shakes Denki's shoulder. "They cant attack someone like that, right? Just because of his face?" Kirishima whispers, and Denki shrugs. Shouji's fists clench. He's delt with more than enough of those types of people in his life. Iida was chopping angrily, and Bakugo looked pissed.

Aziawa is still ranting. He's gotten so angry he couldn't hold his phone, in fear of breaking it. So it went on speaker as he went on a tangent. Hawks finds a good place to cut in. His voice rings loudly in the class.

"Hey, I'm just as angry at you. But the kid is trying to sleep. Maybe keep it down?" Hawks chuckles darkly. "Not like he'll be able to voice his complaints, though."

Aziawa immediately regrets it, but he asks why. "The motherfucker slashed his beak. It'll probably scar, it was deep." Hawks peeked into the room. Tokoyami was still asleep, turned away from the door. Hawks closed the door softly and tuned back into the conversation. Aziawa was yelling. There were other voices yelling, as well.

Aziawa's voice rang clear. "Sorry, Hawks. Gonna have to cut this short. Bring him back around when he wakes up, Recovery Girl will help him. Bakugo! Dont you dare—! Fuck!" The line went dead.

Hawks laughed. Looks like the class knew. He turned to go down the hallway, but stopped when something pulled at his jacket. He turned to see Tokoyami standing, albeit wobbly. The blanket Hawks had wrapped around him hung on his shoulders, and Tokoyami's body disappeared under it.

Hawks smiled softly. "Hey there, baby bird. What's going on?" Hawks moved to support him as the teen almost went down. Slowly, they moved to the kitchen. With Dark Shadow's help, Tokoyami sat on the counter, still wrapped in the blanket. Dark Shadow faced Hawks. "He's wondering how to eat. We're hungry."

Hawks blinked. "I hadn't thought about that...." He trailed off. "We'll ask Recovery Girl when we see her. You wanna go now or do you wanna wait?" Tokoyami shrugged. Hawks shook his head. "Well, let's re-bandage your beak first, then we'll go, sound good?"

Tokoyami nodded and moved to stand. It took a minute, but they got there. Hawks took off the bandages. The wound looked as ugly as ever. "Hey, what did the guy look like?" Tokoyami thought about it. He turned towards the T.V and his face dropped. He pointed at the screen.

Hawks looked. Someone had been murdered late last night. Ouch, it looked brutal. There was something familiar about the wounds though...

"That looks like..." Hawks stared at the wound he was cleaning. "Oh. Holy shit." Hawks snapped his head up, looking for confirmation. Tokoyami nodded, a little too hard, and hissed in pain. Hawks steadied him. "Wait. If the wound is so similar, then..." He turned the volume up.

"The only suspects we have at the moment are the league of villains, and that's because of the dust left behind. Also scorch marks left on the victim's back..."

Hawks's phone lit up as a message came through. He checked it. It was from an unknown number, which meant it was from Dabi.

"You're welcome." Was all it said.

Hawks typed out his reply. He asked why the fuck he would do something like that. Dabi responded with: 'Dude was on our hit list anyways. He should learn to think twice before slicing a league member so close to Shigaraki.'

This left Hawks confused. Dark Shadow said that the guy didnt like people with animal-based quirks, so it would have to be their driver, but the last part....

Oh well. He's dead now. That's all that matters.

He took Tokoyami to Recovery Girl, and she did all she could. Within a week it had scarred, much to Tokoyami's annoyance. He could talk properly, which was okay. Before he got used to it though, he had a lisp. Hawks thought it was adorable. A lisp plus head tilts?? Hawks's intern was the cutest, no doubt.

Hawks grinned as Tokoyami waved goodbye two weeks later. "Make sure you get home this time, okay?" Tokoyami sighed and flipped Hawks off, being the last person to leave.

Hawks laughed. Hopefully this time there would be no unexpected attacks on his intern. Hawks walked to his office and stared at the pile of paperwork left unfinished.

"Son of a bitch—"

This ended on a funny note, though I wanted to make a point on quirk discrimination. With everything that's happening in America right now, its important to say

Black lives matter. They have mattered all along, and they will always matter.

But I do hope you enjoyed! If you wanna see anything else, just ask! I'm always open to suggestions :D

#boku no hero academia #tokoyami #bnha hawks #aizawa shouta #this is the first political thing ive ever posted wow #but yes if u dont agree go away❤

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trying-my-best · 4 years ago

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Scp 035 x reader part 10

You let out a depressed sigh, it's been about 27 hours since you last slept. You expected this to happen eventually. Back when you worked as a thief for hire you'd have 38 to 52 hour days.

You guessed the reason that you could sleep at the facility before was that they'd give you more to do. Although it wasn't at tiring as breaking and entering, it was as the only guess you had.

Bach was probably coming to wake you up soon. Giving up on sleep you got dressed and went to the kitchen to make some coffee. You remembered how Bach liked his black with a little sugar.

You heard the cell door slide open and heavy footsteps enter the cell. Bach walks past the kitchen and towards the bedroom. You follow behind him as he opens the bedroom door.

"Alright woman, time to get up." Bach shakes the bed, fully expecting you to rise up and yell at him for shaking the bed. You lean against the door frame casually and waited for him to notice you.

Five minutes pass and he's still yelling at the bed where he thinks you are. Getting bored, you sneak up behind him and give his shoulder a little tap. He jumps and turns around fast, gets startled, and falls down.

"(Y/N)! What are you doing awake?" Bach yells as you help him to his feet.

"I couldn't sleep, I'm still kinda used to 38 to 52 hour days. You remember me telling you about my old job." You turn to leave the room. "Come on, I made us coffee. "

Bach's eyes lit up at the mention of coffee. "You made me coffee? Black with sugar?" You nodded as you entered the kitchen. When you picked up the coffee to hand it to Bach, he swiped it out of your hands, almost spilling it.

You laughed at his excitement for coffee, you were pretty sure that this has to be his fifth cup today. Bach took a sip of his coffee and sighed happily.

"Oh yeah, Dr. Yapp wanted me to tell you to go to his office later and to give you this." Bach reached into his pocket and pulled out a key card. "This will get you around the facility, it'll only open up scp 035's and 049's cells, and it'll get you from light containment to heavy containment. "

"Why 049?"

Bach shrugged. "Well, you got along with him so well the duringone of the breaches. We thought you might want to visit him every now and then"

You took the card from his hand and inspected it. "So now I can leave my room at will?"

"Yep! Also, if you use this card to help any scp escape you will be demoted back to D-class and have all your current privileges revoked. So don't be dumb." Bach used an exaggerated tone for the last sentence.

You thanked Bach before heading towards the cell door to test it out. Approaching the cell door, you held the card to the door panel. It made a loud beep and the door opened. "Nice" you said to no one in particular. "Alright Bach, go start your rounds. I'm going to get ready for the day, then I'll head down to Yapp's office. "

Bach left and closed the door behind him as you walked back to your room. You noticed the plush cat 035 gave you sitting on the bed. You need to give it a name or something, you'll think of one eventually.

You picked out a nice, cute outfit before you went to the bathroom to shower.

*035's cell*

035 had their hands folded under their head as usual. Instead of the usual comedy mask, 035's face was tragedy. Their clearly bored with the normal interview the foundation was putting them through.

They had been promised a visit with (Y/N) and as far as they could tell, they didn't know when or if that was ever going to happen. So far the foundation seemed to only be interested in pestering 035 about their plans with (Y/N) instead of seeing how things unfold.

035 themselves didn't know what they wanted with (Y/N), still stuck between wanting to have them as a companion or having the experience of possessing (Y/N).

The interview had just ended and 035 couldn't be more disinterested. The foolish scientists talking amongst themselves in the observation room.

035 was becoming more impatient and angry. They didn't like not getting what that want. 035 stood up from their chair and walked up to the glass, startling the scientis. "When am I seeing (Y/N)?" 035 demanded with an authority to their voice.

"T-today, here in a c-couple hours. Dr. Yapp just needs to talk to h-her for a bit then she'll be here." One of the scientis squeaked out.

035 glared suspiciously at the scientis, not 100% believing them. 035 walked back to the table and sat down, still glaring daggers at the scientis.

*back to your cell*

Feeling refreshed and ready for the day, you gave the plush cat a pat and headed out the cell door. You waved to some scientis as you headed towards Dr. Yapp's office.

Dr. Yapp's office was located in light containment so it took you about 15 minutes to walk there, every now and then asking people for directions.

Eventually you made it to his office. You knocked gently on the door, you could hear shuffling inside the room as Dr. Yapp rushed to the door. The door swung open revealing the Doctor covered in paint and clutching a few paint tubes in his arms. You giggled at the sight.

"Don't laugh at me! Paint is surprisingly easy to spill everywhere." The doctor yelled.

You and Dr. Yapp spent the next hour and a half cleaning up paint. When it was properly cleaned up, Dr Yapp explained that he was planning on letting you and 035 paint today but the 05 council wanted full documentation of the experiment.

He explained that the 05 had never given scp 035 this much freedom and were sceptical about giving 035 what they want so easily. You wondered if you were still going to see 035 today or if you would be held from them longer.

"But! We made a compromise. You see, today we have more than usual staff so we would have more people to watch the two of you paint. Now 035 won't try to breach again. " Dr. Yapp exclaimed with a sigh of relief.

You smiled, happy that you'd be able to paint and see 035. Did 035 miss you? Or did 035 miss trying to figure out what you were and why they couldn't possess you. You had evidence that it could be ether or, and you were the type to take chances.

You and a couple other scientis helped Dr. Yapp carry the paint supplies to 035's containment cell. The supplies consisted of two easels, normal paint colors, pencils, and some paint brushes of different sizes.

When you all got to 035's cell, the guards standing outside the cell ordered 035 to stand away from everyone so we could set up.

"Why can't we let 035 help us?" You expressed your thoughts as you sat down one of the easels. The guard on your right grabbed you by the shoulder and aggressively threw you at 035, harming your shoulder in the process.

"If you like the damn thing so much why don't you marry it." The rude guard held his gun tightly, slightly pointing it at you and 035.

035 catches you and holds you up so you could steady yourself. You rubbed the bruising area trying to sooth the ache. 035 took notice of the pain painted on your face and your hand rubbing your shoulder.

You looked up at 035, their eyes were glowing a dark and glowing purple. You whispered to them that it wasn't worth their time and that it would only get themselves in more trouble than it's worth. 035 sighed in defeat and made sure that you were properly steadied before letting you go.

"So what's all this?" 035 moved to separate you from the others in the room. 035 switched to comedy once they were sure that the guards couldn't get to you easily.

"Oh! I convinced Dr. Yapp to let us paint and he convinced the O5 to get us the materials!" The scientis had finished setting everything up and had left the room, guards following behind them.

You moved in front of one of the easels, picked up a pencil, and began sketching your design on the canvas. 035 lingered in their spot, glaring at the scientis through the glass before walking up to the other easel.

As time went on, you had a pretty good sketch down. You noticed 035 glancing at you from time to time. Were they drawing you? You desided not to ask and just let it all unfold on it's own time.

After a few more minutes you were satisfied with the sketch and started picking out paint to use. Looking back over to 035, they were still hard at work sketching whatever they were going to paint.

You thought of earlier when 035 was about to confront the guard who threw you. Did 035 really care about you and your safety? Or were they mad that someone harmed someone that 035 thought belonged to them. Maybe even both.

After you had your paint set up, the pain in your shoulder came back. 035 noticed your sudden wince. You moved your arm around a bit to try and determine the damage, only making the pain a bit sharp for a few seconds.

"Is your shoulder hurt? I new I shouldn't have let that damn guard go." 035 mumbled the last part, making it hardly audible for you.

"Yeah, I can't tell how bad tho. Let's just keep painting, I'm still having fun!" You tried to reassure 035 so they wouldn't get an interview ban for attacking a guard.

035 let out a defeated sigh and picked their pencil back up. When you were almost halfway done painting your art, one of the scientis knocked on the glass. You looked at the scientist curiously, wondering what she wanted. Then you remembered Dr. Yapp telling you that a knock meant that you were out of time.

"Awww, you have to leave me alone already? We were having so much fun in each other's company." 035 wined at you and the scientis.

"Sorry 035, I don't make the rules. I'm sure they'll let us finish soon. Besides, your host is about to start falling apart. I dont think you can paint while you're falling apart."

You would admit that you were sad to leave 035, especially since you both weren't done with your paintings. You hugged 035 goodbye, while being careful as to not touch the black ooze, and left 035's cell. You waved to them through the glass as two guards escorted you out.

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

1860 words, I did not expect myself to ever write that much

#scp #scp fandom #scp 035 #scp foundation #secure contain protect #scp x reader #scp 035 x reader

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krazyyy · 5 years ago

Text

OC Interview

Thought I would give this a shot, im tagging @vaniri and @cootschapel but of course u dont have to lol.

Just as a sidenote, Theo hadn't confessed his love to Sylvia yet.

Name: Theo Elliot

Are you single: Uh, yeah... Are you happy: Yeah, I suppose so. Are you angry: Nah, dont got a reason ta be. Are your parents still married: Nah, my Pa died a while ago when I was about 19. Aint too sure what happened ta my Ma though...

Nine Facts

Birthplace: Just outside Strawberry. Hair color: Dark Brown Eye color: Hazel Birth date: Dont uh exactly remember it... (He is 29 tho) Mood: Bit tired from workin' but I'm doin' alright. Gender: Male Summer or winter: Think I prefer the Summer, I like bein' outside. Morning or afternoon: Afternoon, its bout the time I leave work so its nice ta relax afterwards.

Eight things about your love life

Are you in love: Uh... I aint sure... Do you believe in love at first sight: Sometimes... Who ended your last relationship: She did. Have you ever broken someones heart: Nah. Are you afraid of commitment: Nah, not at all. Have you hugged someone in the last week: Yeah, my uh good friend Sylvia... Have you ever had a secret admirer: Dont think so... Have you ever broken your own heart: Yeah...

Six Choices

Love or Lust: Love. Cats or Dogs: Cats, just cause I got this cat whose been followin' me around a lot and sometimes she comes over and hangs out 'round my cabin. Decided ta name her Maria. A few Best friends or Regular Friends: Uh both. Wild night out or romantic night in: *A heavy blush colors his cheeks* Uh, I would have ta say a romantic night... Day or night: Day, I enjoy bein' out in the sun tendin' ta the house or just widdlin'.

Five Have You Evers

Been caught sneaking out: Nah, aint somethin' I felt I needed ta do when I was young. Fallen Down/Up the Stairs: Think so. Wanted someone/something so badly it hurt: Yeah... Wanted to disappear: Nah.

Four preferences

Smile or eyes: A kind smile. Shorter or taller: Aint really got a preference there. Intelligence or Attraction: Both. Do you and your family get along: Uh, well when my Pa was alive we got on alright but he was always kinda distant from me... but I remember gettin' along the best with my Ma, she always used ta make me laugh a lot when I was upset. I really do miss her, hope I can see her again one day... Would you say you have a messed up life: Don't think so. Have you ever ran away from home: Nah. Have you ever got kicked out: Been kicked out of a saloon, but thats only cause I was drunk. Aint too proud of what happened though...

Friends

Do you secretly hate one of your friends: Not at all. Do you consider all of your friends good friends: Yeah, been with me through thick n' thin. Who is your best friend: Uh Sylvia. Who knows everything about you: Sylvia does, only person I ever tell anythin' to.

Sylvia will be up next :)

#theo elliot #long post #oc #rdr2 oc #rdo #rdo oc

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filthyjanuary · 4 years ago

Note

I've never seen an episode of supernatural all I see is what's on your blog and each and every day I become more confused about the writing of the show and why people enjoy it :l

okay well first off i am SO sorry you have to see me like this jknbuvgyuhjn i cannot believe im spnblogging in 2020 like im 15 again but things happen i guess.

second of all, the thing to know about supernatural is.... i think, for general audiences, it is an average-to-good show. it's not Bad. It's not Beloved and/or Acclaimed. objectively, i think is also probably the most balanced view of the show and is also probably what the cw and/or people who worked on the show see it as. it lasted 15 years because it consistently pulled in reliable numbers for the cw and grabbed a lot of demographics. like i know the tumblr bubble skews perceptions but, people of all ages, genders, sexualities watched and enjoyed supernatural, yes even to the very end. most people are also not looking at supernatural with the hyperfocused lens that tumblr is and that’s like... okay. those fans aren’t any less relevant or important. if only tumblr was watching supernatural, i promise it would’ve been cancelled like at least 7 years ago.

the spn *fandom* is interesting because like one, no one is watching the same fucking show. like we all watched the same episodes but like this fandom cant even agree on like...basic facets of canon, let alone digging into complex meta. people’s views of characters actions and motivations skew wildly. things one side of the fandom considers nearly canon are like essentially viewed as ooc on other sides of the fandom. you love and hate all the characters and everyone is always about to start swinging on everyone else. you have to simultaneously juggle the ideas that the writers — and for the record this show has had four showrunners and like a billion individual writers who all see and interpret it slightly differently — are brilliant and the writers legitimately are both stupid and bad at their jobs. you have to turn your brain off in terms of continuity because they retcon their own lore every 15 seconds. this isn’t even getting into the ship wars, the boundary crossing, the weird invasiveness , etc., etc., etc. supernatural’s writing is sometimes incredible, sometimes terrible, but generally pretty average, but it had a charm (ESPECIALLY IN SEASONS 1-3) that reeled you in, even if you hated the genre.

when a show is on this long, i think the fans (rightly so) will look back and dig in and get nitpicky on things they wish were covered with more care. things that the show obviously did not decide to write with the intention of addressing/grappling with later on. case in point: dean’s drinking habits. with the exception of like... season 7 where they DO address it, dean drinks a lot as a feature of his character with little to no consequence. he doesn’t get drunk. he’s always driving. it might as well be water. the writers don’t intend for that to be more than just a facet of what makes him a rough and tough action hero even though logically, he should be drunk all the time. even w/ interviews w/ the cast/crew, it’s clear the writers don’t think the fans will care and/or notice a lot of things. they do, because well, they’re invested. the fandom extrapolates because that’s what fandom does, but i really don’t think the writers connect those dots because dean’s drinking /isn’t/ a problem until they need it to be. because spn has gone on so long, it has more instances of things like this than other shows, and our cultural contexts have also evolved a lot along the way from 2005 to 2020. so again, there’s a lot to work with. i don’t really think that’s so much a reflection of the quality of the show than it is a reflection of how long it’s been on and the way society has changed since then. dean not knowing what myspace is is funny for two completely different reasons in 2005 and in 2020, for example.

my own personal opinion is, there’s a lot to enjoy about supernatural. seasons 1-5 are legitimately good tv. for all their flaws, they have a very clear aesthetic and tell a story that is well-structured and relatively coherent in terms of themes and continuity. they set up complex characters and relationships and everyone’s motivations make sense and that arc wraps on a tragic but ultimately narratively consistent and thus fulfilling point. of course, there’s stuff i personally like and dislike but separating my emotions from it, it’s very good. i think if anything, i would recommend anyone watch those five seasons and then decide whether they want to continue or not. if you don’t, you’ll end on a note that feels complete. it’s what i’m doing w/ my friend elaine, currently, actually. if she decides she wants to continue after 5, we’ll do that, but for now we’re just vibing in season 1. after that point, i think if you decide you care enough about the characters to push through wildly inconsistent writing, there’s stuff to enjoy in seasons 6-15, but the quality and particularly the consistency dips and this is also where the retconning really starts to...intensify. it’s also where the mythos of supernatural grows bigger than the show itself, which i think was always supernatural’s downfall. the crew started caring more about the whims of the fandom and frankly the fandom became more of the story than the show, and that’s how you get people piecing together what supernatural is based on out of context gifsets that skew perceptions wildly and get Supernatural Fandom™ which... frankly, in my opinion, changed fandom culture as a whole for the worse, like yes it’s a huge, powerful and often memeable behemoth but also... the way it changed creator-fan interactions is something we’re going to be unpacking for a long time. i think had the writers tuned out fandom wars and internet yelling and strived to tell a story that made sense and was well constructed to /them/, we wouldn’t be here and seasons 6-15 could’ve found a way to be as beloved as the first third of the show. i’m personally of the opinion that being a fan of something, for better or for worse, does not entitle you to part of it’s creative process. it doesn’t become a collaboration, and the door is always there if you get to the point where you want to leave. i think supernatural getting too caught up in its own fandom and balancing all these conflicting interests is ultimately what made the last 10 seasons, and particularly the back third of the show oftentimes flounder. the finale chaos, in my opinion, happened because they tried to please everyone by keeping too many things vague so people would have room to play in their own sandboxes and round out the story the way they wanted to see it and thus ultimately, a lot of things were left in the air and so for many people, the closure they were hoping for just wasn’t there.

i dont know how this became a long and scattered collection of thoughts but tldr, people enjoy supernatural because at the end of the day, it’s an enjoyable show and i think the more you stew in a fandom bubble, there’s more to get worked up about. which is fine. i like that fandom engages in complex conversations that the show won’t grapple with, but that’s not for everyone and i don’t think the fact that we have these conversations is necessarily an indictment of the show’s overall quality.

#asks #spn #long post #**#Anonymous #for the record #i liked the finale and i watched the show for 10 years of my life on and off because sam and dean winchester are two of the most interestin #interesting* characters and also have the most interesting dynamic i've ever see #seen*

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calumcest · 5 years ago

Text

you and i were fireworks that went off too soon - chapter one

[ao3]

The tattoos appear one Wednesday night.

“What’s yours?” Michael demands, sounding beside himself with excitement. Luke frowns.

“What’s my what?”

“Your tattoo.”

another soulmate au...but this time its ANGSTY (but dont worry it will end happy because i am me)

The tattoos appear one Wednesday night.

Almost everyone wakes up for a few minutes at around three-thirty a.m., feeling a strange burning sensation in some square inch of their body. Almost everyone rubs sleepily at the patch of skin - wrist, bicep, shoulder, hip - rolls over, and goes back to sleep.

Some people, of course, are already awake when it happens, and some people wake up and don’t go back to sleep. Those are the ones who start shooting off confused questions on social media, comparing tattoos, trying to figure out what they mean. A few people start theorising - mine reminds me of my wife, they say, or, mine reminds me of my first love, and by the time the rest of Australia wakes up, the theories have ballooned from maybe they’re to do with someone you need to reconnect with to this is a clear sign from the government that they’ve placed chips in our minds and know what we’re thinking about.

Australia is the first major country to get them. As Tuesday rolls into Wednesday across the globe, more and more people’s thighs, forearms and ankles start to burn, until, by the time it gets to LA, people are buzzing with anticipation, almost the entire country awake at three-thirty in the morning, waiting for their tattoos.

Luke doesn’t notice his immediately. He sleeps like the fucking dead, so he hadn’t even woken up in the middle of the night like most people, and he wakes up late for work so doesn’t have time to check his phone for the fifty billion messages he’s received overnight until he’s made it onto the train, panting as he flops into an empty seat opposite an elderly lady. She gives him a warm smile, which Luke thinks is a little strange, but he returns it slightly tentatively, pulling his phone out to avoid any further eye contact.

His phone lights up before he even touches it, and Luke frowns as he sees new messages appearing every few minutes. On top of the messages, he’s got seventeen missed calls from Michael, twenty-five from his mum, three from his dad, and even some from Jack and Ben.

He unlocks his phone and heads for the messages app, barely managing to open the group chat with Michael and Calum before his phone is lighting up with Michael ringing him again.

“What?” he hisses, as quietly as he can, throwing an apologetic look at the lady opposite him. “I’m on the train.”

“What’s yours?” Michael demands, sounding beside himself with excitement. Luke frowns.

“What’s my what?”

“Your tattoo.” Luke blinks.

“Are you alright, Mike?” he says. “You know I don’t have any tattoos.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Michael says, now sounding incredulous over the staticky phone line. “Have you not, like, looked at your phone? Seen the news? Spoken to a single person?”

“I woke up late,” Luke says, a little defensively, even though he doesn’t really think he needs to defend not looking at his phone for an hour while he showered, dressed, made breakfast, sprinted to the station.

“Jesus Christ,” Michael says, and Luke can just imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Trust you to sleep through something like this.”

“Through what?”

“Everyone got a tattoo last night,” Michael says. Luke hesitates for a moment, and then rolls his eyes.

“Mike, I’m not that gullible,” he says. “I think even I’d wake up if a tattoo artist broke into my house overnight.”

“I’m not joking,” Michael says impatiently.

“Where are they, then?” Luke says, slightly amused.

“Mine’s on my elbow,” Michael says. “But everyone has them in different places.”

“Right,” Luke says. “That’s convenient. Is this just a ploy to try and get me to strip naked on public transport and embarrass myself?”

“Why do you never believe anything I say?” Michael says indignantly.

“You’ve never given me much reason to,” Luke says. There’s a beat, and then-

“Yeah, that’s fair enough,” Michael says.

“What’s yours, then?” Luke asks, because he might as well humour Michael.

“It’s, uh,” Michael says, cagily. There’s a moment’s pause, and when it becomes obvious Luke’s waiting for an answer, he says quietly: “Duke?”

“Duke?” Luke says, because he cannot have heard that properly. “Like, Calum’s dog Duke?”

“Yeah,” Michael says, sounding a little nervous. Luke rolls his eyes. Obviously Michael’s just picked the first fucking thing that came to mind.

“Right,” Luke says. “Not really doing yourself any favours on convincing me this isn’t just a massive joke, Mike.” Michael makes a small noise somewhere between outrage and embarrassment.

“Check the fucking news, then, arsehole,” he says, and then there’s a beep and he’s hung up. Luke removes the phone from his ear, screen back on the group chat where Calum’s still sending messages, and clicks out and onto his news app.

He’s immediately confronted with approximately thirty-seven articles about tattoos. Blurry pictures of people’s tattoos, clips of news anchors showing their tattoos to the camera, interviews with people who claim they know what the tattoos mean, interviews with medical officials who are telling people to stay calm, the tattoos don’t appear to be dangerous. Luke’s first reaction is to bring down his notification bar and check the date - okay, May the seventh, so this isn’t an April Fool’s. It might be a late April Fool’s, though, he thinks.

“He’s not lying to you,” someone says suddenly, and Luke’s head jolts up to see the old lady opposite him smiling at him benignly.

“Uh, sorry,” he says, “what d’you mean?”

“Your friend,” she says, “Mike? He’s not lying. Everybody got a tattoo last night.” She rolls her sleeve up to expose a frail, wrinkled arm, and right there, in the middle of her forearm, is a tattoo of a policeman’s hat.

“That was my late husband’s identification number,” she says, pointing to the number underneath the hat.

“Oh,” Luke says, because he has absolutely no idea what the appropriate response to everybody got a tattoo last night, by the way, here’s mine of my late husband’s police hat and identification number is. The lady smiles at him again, and rolls her sleeve back down.

“You should look for yours,” she says knowingly, like she understands this whole tattoo situation. Luke opens his mouth, although he’s not really sure what he’s about to say - thank you? Piss off? What sort of a fucking alternate universe am I living in? - but then the train doors open and he looks outside and realises this is his stop.

“This is my stop,” he says, thankful that this incredibly uncomfortable conversation is over. “Have a nice day?” He’s not really sure why he phrases it as a question, but he doesn’t have time to think about it, grabbing his bag and coat and just about making it off the train without getting decapitated by the closing doors.

What a weird fucking start to the day, he thinks, as he starts towards the ticket barriers, but upon realising he’s left his season ticket at home all thoughts of a tattoo leave his mind.

-------

The first person Luke sees when he gets into the office is Calum. He’s wearing a scarf indoors, which strikes Luke as a little strange, but he doesn’t have time to ask because as soon as Luke walks into the room, Calum rounds on him.

“Why the fuck haven’t you been answering your phone?” he demands immediately.

“Jesus Christ,” Luke groans as he throws himself into his chair. “Not you too.”

“What?”

“Mike rang me trying to convince me to get naked on the train because apparently someone tattooed me in my sleep last night,” Luke says, powering up his desktop. Calum gapes at him.

“Are you telling me you haven’t seen yours yet?” he asks in disbelief.

“What? Cal, are you fucking serious?” Luke says, annoyed. He might be gullible, but he’s not that gullible. “I’m not falling for this shit.”

“Have you checked the news?”

“Yeah,” Luke says, swivelling in his chair to face Calum as he waits for his computer to turn on. “It’s got to be some kind of joke. A late April Fool’s, I dunno.” Calum stares at him as though he’s just said the sky is green, or All Time Low are a bad band, or something.

“Are you insane?” he asks incredulously.

“Alright, show me your fucking tattoo, then,” Luke says sarcastically. Calum hesitates.

“I don’t want to,” he says shiftily, after a moment.

“Right,” Luke says smugly. “See?”

“See what?”

“Mike came up with some bullshit too,” Luke says. “Said his was fucking Duke.” Calum stares at him for a moment.

“Wait,” he says, and he sounds a little strangled. “Duke? Like, my dog?”

“Yeah,” Luke says pointedly, in what he hopes is a I’m not that stupid kind of tone.

“Oh,” Calum says, and now he sounds somewhere between frightened and elated. Luke cocks his head, frowning.

“What?” he asks.

“It’s just…” Calum trails off, and shrugs.

“What?” Calum bites his lip, and then tugs the scarf down.

There, inked on the side of Calum’s neck, is a Gibson guitar with six numbers on it: 201195. It takes Luke a minute to put two and two together, but after realising it doesn’t say 2011-95 but 20-11-95, it suddenly makes sense. That’s Michael’s guitar, and that’s Michael’s birthday.

“Oh,” he says, and now he’s just confused. “Why the fuck did you get Michael’s guitar tattooed on your neck?” Calum lets go of the scarf and it snaps back up, covering the tattoo again.

“I didn’t,” he says. “It appeared last night.”

“Well, where’s mine, then?” Luke asks sceptically, looking down at his hands and turning them over and over, like a tattoo is suddenly going to appear.

“I don’t know,” Calum says. “Andy’s was on his arse.” Luke stares at him.

“I’m not getting my arse out in the office,” he says. Calum rolls his eyes.

“Go to the fucking toilet,” he says. Luke stands up, because it seems like until he plays into this elaborate prank it’s not going to end, and then stops.

“Wait,” he says. “What if it is on my arse?”

“Then it’s on your arse,” Calum says, sounding a little nonplussed. It’s Luke’s turn to roll his eyes.

“I won’t be able to see it,” he says, hoping Calum will get the hint. Calum stares at him for a moment, then shrugs, and stands up.

“I hope it’s on your dick,” he says, with a grin.

“Fuck you,” Luke says, as they walk to the toilet opposite their office. Luke pushes open the door to the first cubicle, and then pauses. “Wait, is it going to look weird if we’re in a cubicle together?”

“Probably,” Calum says, but he follows Luke into the cubicle anyway, closing the door behind him.

It’s cramped with Calum in there too, and they shuffle around each other for a moment before Calum hops onto the toilet and gets out of Luke’s way, leaving him to take his jacket off and then fiddle with his shirt buttons.

“This is the world’s worst strip-tease,” Calum comments after a moment, and Luke scowls at him.

“Dickhead,” he says, and then, having finally removed his shirt, he turns around to hang it on the hook on the back of the door. That’s when Calum gasps.

“It’s, uh. It’s on your back,” he says, and he sounds a little worried. Luke twists, trying to see.

“What?” he says, because he’s not that flexible. “Where?”

“On your shoulderblade,” Calum says, pointing, as if it’ll help. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke can see a crease of concern between Calum’s brows.

“I can’t see,” Luke says grumpily.

“Hang on, I’ll take a picture,” Calum says, standing up and fishing his phone out of his pocket. Luke stands still for a moment, until he reckons Calum must have taken the picture, then turns around. Calum hesitates for a moment, then thrusts the phone at Luke.

Luke sees his skin, pale and freckled, broken up by dark black ink. It’s a strangely beautiful tattoo, a bird carrying what looks like some kind of stick in front of a waning moon. It reminds him a bit of two of his ex’s tattoos, actually - he had some kind of bird on his neck, and a bunch of moons on his forearms.

It’s that thought that’s on his mind as he looks over the picture again, and his eyes fall on the stick.

It’s a drumstick.

Oh.

“Fuck,” Luke says, and he suddenly feels sick. No fucking way has he woken up with his first ever tattoo, and it’s something to do with Ashton. “Fuck. Calum, tell me this isn’t real. Tell me this is a fucking prank.” Calum looks at him like he wishes he could tell Luke it was a prank, and shakes his head slowly.

Luke feels his knees give out, falling to the cold tile floor hard.

“It comes off, right?” he says, an edge of panic in his voice. Calum looks at him again, and then shakes his head again. “Cal, please. I- I can’t have a tattoo to do with Ashton.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Calum says, eyes sincere and sad.

“What does it mean?” Luke asks. Calum shrugs helplessly.

“No one knows,” he says.

“But you have Michael,” Luke says desperately, “and Michael’s got you.” Calum hesitates, and then shrugs again.

“I don’t know, Luke,” he says gently.

“Maybe it doesn’t mean anything,” Luke says, like he’s trying to convince himself more than anything.

“Maybe,” Calum echoes, but he doesn’t sound sure at all.

-------

It takes three months before it’s decided what they are.

A huge number of studies are done in that time. Calum and Michael themselves volunteer for one, because apparently not everybody knows what - or who - theirs refers to. Some people turn out to have no tattoo, and it seems like people are only getting their tattoos on their eighteenth birthdays. It’s the only topic in the news for that entire time - the only topic of conversation, the only topic Luke encounters fucking anywhere.

He’s grateful his tattoo is on his shoulderblade, so it’s mostly hidden, because he sees everybody sneaking furtive glances at people’s necks, hands, forearms, collarbones, anywhere with visible tattoos. He dodges questions about what his tattoo is from everybody but Calum, Michael, and his family, because the words rise like bile in his throat - it’s Ashton.

(“Oh, Luke,” Michael says sadly, when Luke tells him, and pulls him into the tightest hug Luke thinks he’s ever had.)

(“Oh, Luke,” his mum says sadly, when Luke tells her, sigh broken up by the static of the phone line.)

(“Oh, Luke,” Jack and Ben say simultaneously on their group call, a moment of tense, awkward, sad silence hanging between them for a moment afterwards.)

After three months, though, there’s a huge press conference. They’ve worked out what they are, the authorities say, and they’re going to do a televised conference announcing it and explaining how they reached that conclusion.

Of course, the whole world is on tenterhooks. They do it in Europe, because it’s deemed the easiest timezone for everybody to work around, so Luke finds himself wedged between Michael and Calum on Calum’s sofa at eleven p.m., biting his nails almost obsessively.

Michael and Calum aren’t speaking much, either. Luke’s not really sure it was the best move for them to be together while finding out what their tattoos about each other mean, but frankly, he’s too focused on finding out what his tattoo means to worry about them.

At two minutes past eleven, researchers begin to file into the panel in front of the audience of journalists, world leaders standing behind them. It looks almost comical, Luke thinks a little hysterically, a row of men and women in lab coats to highlight their authority on the matter, the world’s most powerful people standing solemnly behind them. Some of their tattoos are visible too, but Luke’s too caught up willing time to move faster so he can finally fucking find out what having a tattoo about Ashton on his shoulderblade means.

At four minutes past eleven, they start speaking. There’s about five minutes of preamble that Luke can’t follow, lots of words like hypothesis and methodology washing over him, and then the researcher sitting in the middle of the panel clears his throat, pushes his glasses up his nose, and takes a deep breath.

“From these international, rigorously conducted studies of large portions of different populations, we have concluded,” he says, and nobody breathes. This is the moment. Luke’s heart seems to be trying to get his daily quota’s worth of heartbeats into a single second. “We have concluded that these tattoos appear to be soulmate markings.”

Luke hears nothing that he says after that.

Soulmate markings. The words echo in his mind, bouncing off every cell in his brain.

It can’t be right, Luke thinks desperately, as he watches the panellists take questions from journalists but doesn’t hear the words they say. Ashton’s not his soulmate. There’s no such thing as soulmates, and if there were, Luke’s wouldn’t be the first man who had ever truly broken his heart, who had left him almost incapable of carrying on, who had brought him so fucking close to the precipice.

He’d thought Ashton had been it, back then. He’d thought that he’d been so lucky to find the guy he wanted to marry so young in life. And then, three years later, Ashton had turned around one day, ashen-faced, and told him he didn’t love him anymore.

That had been it. Luke’s world, Luke’s mind, Luke’s heart, had broken.

So there’s no fucking way, no fucking way, that Ashton can be Luke’s soulmate. Luke’s soulmate wouldn’t have fallen out of love with him. Luke’s soulmate would never have pushed him so close to never seeing another birthday again. Luke’s soulmate wouldn’t leave him.

Luke’s so caught up in the sickness that’s washed over him, hands trembling, freezing and sweaty, that he doesn’t realise what this means for Michael and Calum until a noise pulls him back to reality harshly. It’s Calum, clearing his throat.

“Well,” he says, and he sounds weirdly high-pitched, and suddenly Luke thinks, shit. Calum and Michael are soulmates.

“Yep,” Michael says, equally high-pitched and slightly choked.

“Oh,” Luke puts in, because fuck, Calum and Michael are soulmates.

“Oh,” Calum says, like he’s just remembered Luke’s there, and then there’s two sets of arms around Luke, warm and vanilla and mint and pine.

“Oh, Luke,” Michael says, and he sounds so sad that Luke’s heart breaks all over again.

Neither of them say anything more, because there’s so much to say that picking any one thing would be doing everything else an injustice.

-------

Luke does nothing about it for five weeks.

Michael and Calum don’t say anything about it either, not wanting to push, but Luke’s getting kind of sick of the wary looks they send in his direction, of the whispered conversations that stop as soon as he walks into the room. They’ve fallen into it so easily that it chokes Luke up when he sees them, easy touches and glances that they’ve always had but have somehow taken on a new meaning.

(“When did you know?” Luke asks Calum one night over the phone, staring up at his ceiling.

“That I was in love with him?” Calum asks.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve always known,” Calum says, and Luke’s heart hurts because he’s so happy for them, he is, but he’s so fucking miserable.)

He jumps every time he gets a text for the first few weeks, thinking it might be Ashton, and filled with both relief and a little bit of disappointment when it never is. His mum doesn’t ask, and neither does his dad, and nor do Jack and Ben, and he loves them all for it. He doesn’t want to talk about it, but he hates the way it hangs, thick and solid in the air between them all every time he calls.

Five weeks is when he breaks.

He’s in the toilet at work, sat fully-clothed on the closed toilet seat, practically hyperventilating as he types, erases, types, erases.

Hey. I know we haven’t spoken in years-

Hey. I know we haven’t spoken in a while-

Hi. It’s Luke.

Hi. It’s Luke (Hemmings).

It feels fucking awful still, even after a few years have passed, to see Ashton Irwin staring at him at the top of the screen, not the stupid inside joke contact name he’d had for the entirety of their relationship. It feels fucking awful typing so formally. It feels fucking awful not knowing what to say to someone who used to know Luke better than anyone else. The whole thing feels fucking awful.

Eventually, when he’s been sat on the toilet for so long his arse is starting to go numb, he just types two words.

What’s yours?

He puts his phone back in his pocket, unlocks the cubicle with shaking fingers, and goes to wash his hands, because otherwise it’ll look like he’s incredibly unhygienic.

His phone buzzes as he’s drying his hands, and his heart lurches. He hastily wipes his hands on his trousers, fumbling with trembling fingers with his phone and nearly throwing up when he sees Ashton Irwin flashing up on his screen.

Ashton Irwin It’s you.

-------

Luke sits on the information for two days before telling Michael and Calum.

They’re at Michael’s, sitting on the sofa eating pizza (or, at least, Michael and Calum are eating pizza - Luke’s half-heartedly prodding at his), and Calum and Michael are having some kind of a heated squabble about whether tuna on pizza is acceptable or not, and Luke just blurts it out.

“I texted Ashton,” he says suddenly, and both Michael and Calum stop, dead still.

“You- what?” Michael says, after a few (incredibly strained) seconds have passed.

“I texted Ashton,” Luke repeats, mumbling this time. He’s gazing intently at his pizza, mostly to avoid looking at Calum or Michael.

“Did he reply?” Calum asks.

“Yeah,” Luke says. Both Michael and Calum inhale sharply.

“What did he say?” Michael asks. Luke swallows. He doesn’t think he can say it out loud.

“I-” he starts, but cuts himself off, the words too heavy for his tongue to handle. He shakes his head instead, fishing for his phone in his pocket, and chucks it over to Calum, who catches it deftly. Michael leans over as Calum types in Luke’s passcode - his birthday, because he’s too stupid to remember any other date - and there’s a moment of tension, of bated breath, as they wait for the message to load.

Luke knows when they’ve seen it because both of their faces contort into the same expression, somewhere between worry, confusion, fear, concern and sympathy.

“Fuck,” Michael says, staring at Luke almost hesitantly, like he’s about to implode.

“Are you okay?” Calum asks quietly. Luke shrugs.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly, because he doesn’t. He’s over Ashton, he is, but he’s never going to forgive or forget the way Ashton left him, the way he broke him and swept away, not even glancing at the pieces of Luke he left in his wake. Ashton can’t be his soulmate.

“That’s okay,” Calum says, calm and reassuring. “It’s okay to not know.”

“It’s just a tattoo,” Michael says. “Tattoos can’t tell you who to love.”

It makes Luke feel a little better.

-------

He doesn’t text Ashton again.

In fact, he’s almost succeeded in pushing Ashton into a corner of his mind again, shoving him back into the Do Not Open box that this tattoo business had let him out of, when his phone buzzes in the middle of the night a week later.

He reaches over groggily, aiming to turn off whatever it is that’s lighting up his screen and sending vibrations resonating through his bedside table, but wakes up with a shot of adrenaline when he sees the name lighting up his screen.

Ashton Irwin We should probably talk about this.

Luke sits bolt upright in bed, palms suddenly sweating. The only thing he can think to do is unlock his phone and dial Michael, knowing he’ll be up, even though it’s two a.m.

“What?” Michael asks, sounding slightly irked. Luke can hear clicking in the background, so it’s probably a safe bet that he’s playing a game.

“Ashton texted me,” he says, and the clicking stops.

“What did he say?”

“Uh,” Luke says, holding the phone away from his ear and squinting as the bright screen blinds him in the darkness of the room. He fumbles for his light switch with one hand while exiting back into the messages app with the other. “‘We should probably talk about this.’”

“Yeah, we should,” Michael says, “that’s why I’m asking what he texted you.”

“No, that’s what he said,” Luke says.

“He said you should talk about it?”

“Yeah.” There’s a pause.

“That bastard,” Michael says calmly. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, yet,” Luke says. “I called you first.”

“Tell him ‘nah, you’re good’,” Michael says, and Luke knows he’s only, like, ten percent joking.

“Michael,” he says, tone admonishing, but his stomach feels a little lighter. Knowing he’s got Michael and Calum on his side - fiercely on his side - makes it feel a lot less scary, a lot easier to handle.

“Well, what do you want to say?” Michael asks.

“I don’t know,” Luke says. He’s fantasised about this so many times since they broke up - about Ashton texting him, about Luke having the power to say no, or say yes - but he’s never decided on a resolute response in his daydreams.

“You don’t have to reply,” Michael says. “You don’t owe him shit.”

“I know,” Luke says, and it comforts him, somehow. “Maybe I won’t.”

“I’ll reply for you,” Michael says, and then there’s more clicking. “Just give me a few minutes to look up how to say ‘go fuck yourself’ in at least forty different languages.” Luke laughs at that, the knot in his stomach loosening considerably.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” he says, because now that he’s talking about it, now that it’s not just in his own head and his own heart, it feels a lot less frightening. “What a fucking joke. We get soulmates, and mine’s Ashton?”

“That’s what you get for saying my fringe was ugly in Year Seven,” Michael says.

“It was ugly.”

“Well, now something else terrible is going to happen to you,” Michael says cheerfully.

“What’s worse than waking up with a giant tattoo about Ashton on my back?” Luke says.

“Having to speak to him again,” Michael says. Luke doesn’t really think he can argue with that.

“I’m going to turn my phone off,” he says, stifling a yawn, because now that the adrenaline’s subsided, the exhaustion is kicking in again.

“You should just block him,” Michael suggests. Luke is sorely tempted for a moment, but then sighs.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he says, because it’s too late, and he’s not thinking straight, and he doesn’t want to do something he’ll regret. “Thanks for listening to me, Mikey.”

“Always,” Michael says, with a sincerity Luke didn’t know he had in him. “But you’re going to have to pay me for my services in food.”

“I’ll cook for you,” Luke says.

“I said food, not chargrilled remnants of what used to be pasta,” Michael says.

“I can cook pasta,” Luke protests.

“‘Cook’ is a bit of a strong word to describe what you can do with pasta,” Michael says.

“Arsehole,” Luke says, but he’s smiling.

“Love you too,” Michael says, and Luke can hear the grin in his voice. “Go to bed.”

“Alright, mum,” Luke grumbles. “Night.”

“Night,” Michael says, and then he hangs up, and Luke’s suddenly all too aware of the silence and darkness and sheer loneliness of his room.

He switches his phone off, rolls over, and lets the warm feeling of knowing Michael’s there for him envelop him, eventually drifting off to sleep.

-------

“So,” Calum says, when Luke walks into work the next morning, exhausted and late. He’s swivelled around in his chair to face Luke, fingers steepled against his chin like he’s deep in thought. “Did you text him back?” Luke scowls.

“I wish Michael would let me tell you things myself,” he says, slamming his bag onto his desk with a little more force than strictly necessary.

“Did you?” Calum asks again. Luke shakes his head, throwing himself down in his chair, taking his phone out of his bag and putting it on the table before chucking his bag under his desk.

“I don’t know if I want to,” he says.

“Fair enough,” Calum says, with a shrug. Luke bites his lip.

“Do you think I should?” Calum shrugs again.

“I think you should do what feels right,” he says.

“I don’t know what feels right,” Luke moans, putting his head in his hands. “He’s my fucking ex. He fell out of love with me. How is he my soulmate?”

“Maybe he’s, like, a platonic soulmate?” Calum offers, and then recoils in the heat of the glare Luke sends his way.

“Ashton’s not really high up on the list of people I’m looking to be friends with,” Luke says. Calum looks like he’s about to say something, but then Luke’s phone buzzes. He looks over, half-expecting it to be Michael, but-

Ashton Irwin Don’t ignore me, Luke. This is important.

Anger suddenly flares hot in Luke’s stomach.

“Is it him?” Calum asks. Luke nods, and holds the phone up over his desk for Calum to see. “Are you fucking serious?”

“He texted me at two a.m.,” Luke says.

“He’s so fucking entitled,” Calum says, sounding almost as irate as Luke feels. Luke’s so angry that he types out a response without even thinking about it.

Me Are you fucking serious? You texted me at two in the morning.

“What did you say?” Calum wants to know, and Luke dutifully reads it out to him. Calum nods approvingly. “Call him a bastard next time.” Luke laughs, both bitter and amused, and then his phone buzzes again.

Ashton Irwin I know you’re at work.

Ashton Irwin Call me on your lunch break?

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Luke mutters, thrusting his phone at Calum.

“At least he put a question mark this time,” Calum says. “Fucking arsehole.”

Luke’s fingers are shaking as he types.

Me Fuck you. You left me like it was nothing, like I meant nothing after I gave all of myself to you for three years. You never checked in on me, never asked about me, never bothered seeing if I was okay. You just told me you fell out of love with me, and then up and left. You don’t get to demand shit from me now.

Luke erases it all.

Me I don’t have anything to say to you.

The typing bubble pops up as soon as Luke’s sent the message, and he watches the words form in front of his eyes.

Ashton Irwin I do, though.

-------

Luke’s not really sure how he finds himself standing outside in the biting early-October wind on his lunch break, finger hovering over the dial button on Ashton’s contact name.

He’s been standing there for five minutes, almost pressing it but never quite getting there (except one time his finger had slipped and he’d pressed it and then stabbed the ‘end call’ button about fifty times straight in a blind panic).

On the one hand, he really, really doesn’t want to talk to Ashton. He’s moved on from Ashton, with a lot of expensive therapy, a lot of leaning on his friends more than he should have and a lot of eating his body weight in processed food, and he wants Ashton to stay a part of his past. He’s worked hard to get to where he is today, and he doesn’t need to be flung back to where he had been.

On the other hand, this is kind of a big deal. They’re soulmates. Ashton was right, although Luke doesn’t want to admit it - this is something they should talk about. Plus, it can’t hurt to hear what Ashton has to say, right?

With ten minutes left of his lunch break and approximately the same amount of time before he has to start sacrificing fingers to frostbite, Luke takes a deep breath and presses the dial button.

It rings twice, and then there’s a click as Ashton picks up.

“Hello?” Ashton says, and Luke suddenly feels incredibly sick. He hasn’t heard Ashton’s voice in two years, not since he was telling Luke he didn’t love him anymore, and it throws Luke back to that place, making him feel small and vulnerable and pathetic.

“Hi,” he says, and he’s proud of how steady his voice comes out given the circumstances. “I have ten minutes.”

“Okay,” Ashton says. “You’re still living in Sydney, then?”

“What?” Luke says, slightly taken aback by the question. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Cool,” Ashton says. There’s a moment of awkward silence, and Luke contemplates Googling the quickest way to end his own life before Ashton speaks again.

“How are you?” he asks, and Luke can’t help but laugh at that.

“Are you fucking serious?” he asks, and he suddenly feels a little better, a little more in control. Ashton’s asking how he is, and he’s the one laughing. He’s the one with the power. Ashton wants to talk to Luke - Luke doesn’t want to talk to Ashton.

“What?�� Ashton sounds a bit defensive.

“Get to the point,” Luke says, feeling braver and bigger with every passing second. “I didn’t call for a fucking catch up.”

“Jesus,” Ashton mutters. “What the fuck happened to you?” You happened, Luke thinks bitterly, but he won’t give Ashton that satisfaction.

“I grew a fucking spine,” he says instead. “Just tell me what you wanted to talk about.”

“Well,” Ashton says. “I just- I feel like we should talk about the fact that we’re...y’know. Soulmates.”

“I don’t have anything to say about it,” Luke says.

“Are you serious, Luke?” Ashton says, sounding slightly pissed off, and Luke’s caught off-guard for a moment, hearing his name in Ashton’s familiar yet strange voice again.

“Yeah,” Luke says, and he can’t help the bitterness that tinges his tone. “You fucking left, Ashton, and it’s been two years. What the fuck am I supposed to have to say to you?”

“We’re soulmates,” Ashton says, like that’s supposed to mean something to Luke.

“Oh, what, so you wouldn’t have fallen out of love with me if you got a fucking tattoo a few years earlier?” Luke says, fury swirling in his chest. “You needed a bit of ink to tell you who to love?”

“That’s not what I mean,” Ashton says, even though to Luke it sounds like it’s exactly what he means.

“Right,” Luke says sarcastically. “What’s the point in this call?”

“To fucking talk, Luke, not have you bite my head off,” Ashton says. The fury grows hotter in Luke’s chest, seeping into his veins and heating up his muscles.

“Talk about what?” he spits.

“You’re my fucking soulmate!” Ashton says, voice rising. “Don’t you want to fucking talk about it?”

“No!” Luke shouts, and two passers-by give him an odd look. He lowers his voice, and tries again. “No. I don’t have anything to say about it.”

“I think we should meet up,” Ashton says.

“I think you’re fucking insane,” Luke tells him. “I’m going back to work. Don’t contact me again.”

“Wait,” Ashton nearly yells, and Luke, out of instinct, hesitates. “Uh. What’s your- what’s it of?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Luke growls, and hangs up.

He lets out a shaky exhale as he tips his head back against the cold brick wall behind him, anger pounding through his veins, ringing in his ears.

Fuck Ashton Irwin, he thinks, blinking up at the cloudless sky. Fuck Ashton Irwin, and fuck the soulmate tattoos.

chapter two

#lashton #5sos fic #5sos fanfiction #5sos slash #malum #i spent So Long trying to come up w a good title and then gave up #i can always change it on tumblr #its ao3 that fucks me

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softforcal · 6 years ago

Note

please do poly!lashton hqs because i cant stop thinking about that never have i ever interview

POLY LASHTON X READER (+poly lashton on tour with reader)

oh, you mean this video at exactly 5:35 seconds?

-okay fam lets get on this shit

-(side note this is 5.5 k of the cutest shit i’ve ever written wtf, but i’m making a continue reading because its too long fam, it’s too long)

-(and as always i don’t know jack shit about tours or promo tours or when they get hotels or venues or interviews or anything so here we go)

-so because this video was mentioned in the ask i’ll try to incorporate it because why the fuck not, here we goooo

-meeting the band at a house party in LA

-you know who they are but it’s kinda odd to approach (like i dont know if any of you have ever been in a random situation where there’s a celeb just out and about but they are hard as fuck to approach unless they come to you first)

-eye contact is key fam

-if you can make eye contact with them it might invite them to come over, and celebs can be kinda cocky so they’ll usually go for it

-this has been a PSA on how to be a gold digger by me, @softforcal

-anyways, you notice Luke because this boy is tall as fuck

-you’re having a convo with a few friends but you’re eyes keep going back to the tall blonde

-and then his eyes meet yours

-you smile, giving him a small look up and down before turning back to your friends

-the second time you look and catch his eye, this gives him the green light to come on over

-so he approaches and sees your drink is almost empty, “want another one?” he asks, motioning to your drink

-”sure, thanks.” you grin, and he turns to lead the way to the bar area

-”what’s your poison?” he asks, looking at all the drink options

-you tell him what you usually have, and he’s just like “hmm, sounds great, i might have to try one.”

-so you begin to make one for yourself and him

-”I’m Y/N by the way.” you say as you hand him the red solo cup with your mixed drink of choice

-”Luke.” he smiles, clinking your cups together before you both drink

-you can tell he’s already kinda buzzed

-and you know what buzzed boys needs? to dance. that’s what

-you finish your drinks and you realize how close the two of you are standing, he’s looking down at you with a lazy grin

-”we should dance.” you state

-he shrugs, taking your empty cup and setting it down, “lead the way.”

-grabbing his hand and leading him to the room where people are dancing

-grinding on tall people is difficult as fuck, especially if there’s a significant height difference but like you’re both drunk and horny

-so as soon as that doesn’t work the best you turn around and reach up, grabbing the back of his neck, he leans down and then the two of you are making out

-its kinda naughty in front of all these people but neither of you really care

-and he gets riled up so easily

-he actually groans “fuck” when you start kissing his neck

-”lets get out of here.”

-going back to his place and having insanely hot, semi drunk sex

-you both are there for good sex

-so probably a lot of hair pulling, swearing, groaning and hands roaming everywhere

-it’s incredibly hot

-but ya’ll just met at a party so in the morning you’re gone when he wakes up

-you don’t leave a note or anything, just gone

-he has no idea who you are or how he’ll be able to find you again, lets be serious, it was loud and this boy doesn’t even really know your name

-i mean, it was hot and you fucked Luke fucking Hemmings but you assume you were just a one night thing, he’s a rock star after all

-LA life continues

-you’re at a party a few weeks later and you’re on the dance floor having a great time when hands land on your hips

-you turn around to see who it is and your heart leaps when you recognize the blonde hair and cheeky grin, Luke’s bandmate, Ashton fucking Irwin

-“what’s you name?” he asks, leaning in so his lips brush over your ear and he can make sure you hear him over the loud music

-”Y/N.” you answer

-you exchange smiles and you turn around again, his arms wrapping around the front of you so he can press his body against yours

-shamelessly grinding your ass against him and fuck this homeboi is hard already

-at this point you’re kind of freaking out

-I mean, you can’t fuck the singer and the drummer can you?

-and then Ashton’s lips are on your neck and the answer is yes. yes you fucking can.

-dancing until neither of you can stand being there any longer

-Ashton grabs your hand and the two of you leave

-unlike Luke who drove with both hands on the steering wheel, afraid if he touched you he wouldn’t be able to wait to be home, Ashton’s right hand is on your thigh as he drives, he’s more in control and its hot as fuck

-(fam i just realized, don’t drink and drive. lets just say neither drank too much because i’m too lazy to fix this)

-he’s such a gentleman, he opens your car door for you once you get to his place

-but as soon as the two of you are inside his lips are on yours and you’re pressed against a door, then a wall, then the bed

-he is rough as fuck

-rougher than Luke but its exciting and fun and new

-its just raw fam. animalistic.

-in the morning you’re about to leave but Ashton’s arm tightens around you, “where are you going?” he breathes against your neck, voice all low and sexy

-”I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to stay.” you answer

-Ashton laughs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “stay.” he states

-relaxing against his chest

-”so… tell me about you.” you say once the two of you are fully awake

-he laughs. he never knows if the girls he hooks up with know who he is or not

-”in town for a few days then i’m heading out to do a press tour to promote a new album. back in LA for a bit when that’s done then going on a world tour after that.” he states

-”wow.” you say, “busy boy.”

-he laughs at that, then you’re both laughing, then he’s kissing you

-morning sex is still rough but not as rough as before, it’s slower

-and of course round two leads to round three in the shower

-”hey if you have stuff you have to do today i can go-” you begin to say

-one night things can be super confusing with when you’ve overstayed your welcome and shit so it can be awkward as fuck fam

-”wow, was the sex that bad?” Ashton laughs

-grabbing his face and kissing him, “the sex was great, i just don’t want to make this more than what it is.”

-”and what is this?” he asks

-”up to you.” you say, pulling away again, “if this was just a one night thing thats fine-”

-”doesn’t have to be a one night thing.” he states

-”aren’t you going on tour?” you ask

-”phones are magic babe,” he says, kissing you again, “come on, i’ll make you breakfast.”

-he gives you some comfy clothes to wear

-spending the day hanging out and getting to know each other

-he’s such a sweetie and you vibe really well

-plus there’s the whole raw sexual attraction thing going on

-probably having sex like ten different times

-and suddenly its dark out again

-”i should really get going.” you say finally

-he pouts but agrees, he wants you to stay but he doesn’t usually vibe so well with girls so maybe its a good idea for you to go so he can process whatever the fuck he’s feeling

-”let me just grab your number.”

-”do you need a ride home?” he asks

-”i think i’m okay, thanks.” you smile, beginning to take off his hoodie and change back into your clothes

-”you don’t have to give me back my stuff.” he says, taking your hands to stop you from undressing, “you can give it back next time.” he grins

-what a cheeky boy

-you laugh and he kisses you again before you leave

-As soon as you’re gone Ashton calls Calum because he needs someone to listen to him rant about what just happened

-”how soon do you think is too soon to see her again?” Ash asks. “well, we go on tour in like a week-” Calum points out, “but you could invite her to your leaving party. thats in like five days.” “five days is good.”

-meanwhile you’re gushing to your friends because holy fuck you fucked Ashton and Luke and Ashton seems actually interested in something more

-”well who was better in bed?” your friends ask

-they were both amazing so that’s not an easy answer

-Ashton texting you the next day that he’s having a party and he really wants to see you again before he goes on a press tour for a month

-”holy fuck what do i do? Luke will totally be there.” you groan to your friends… but like… you can’t just not go

-you and Ashton talk on and off almost every day until the night of the party

-you get dressed up and you look insanely gorgeous

-when Ashton answers his door and his eyes go up and down your body he groans, “fuck you look amazing.” he says as he pulls you into a hug, kissing your cheek

-introducing him to your best friend who he said could come too

-he lets you guys inside, “drinks are in the kitchen, you know where that is.” he grins, Calum is near the door, Ashton invites him over, introduces you and your friend to Cal then leans in and says to you: “i’ll find you later.” he has to go to host things

-you talk to Cal for a bit, he’s a sweetie and then your friend wants to go get drinks so you leave Cal to go to the kitchen

-keeping your eyes out for Luke

-you don’t know that Luke has already seen you talking to Calum and as soon as you’re gone he goes up to Cal, “the girl you were just talking to, why is she here?”

-Cal is kinda confused, “that was Y/N, Ashton’s new chick. why?”

-”thats the girl i was talking about!” Luke scream whispers, “the girl from a few weeks ago who was gone in the morning, didn’t leave her name or her number.”

-”well fuck.” Cal says, taking a sip of his beer

-and they’ve both heard about you from Ashton by now. how he saw you dancing at a party and he came up to you, which is similar to what happened with Luke so in both cases they approached you, so they know you’re not a gold digger or a leach or something

-you’re just a gorgeous girl who caught both of their eyes

-Luke goes and finds Ashton who is helping someone with a music playlist, he drags Ashton upstairs to Ashton’s bedroom, “Y/N is the girl i got with from the club a few weeks ago.” Luke states

-”what? no fucking way.”

-and then they’re both shook

-because when Luke had woken up and you weren’t there he was actually pretty sad because you were a really cool chick

-but Ashton has been gushing about you for days

-so now what?

-”i mean, do you want to actually date her?” Luke asks

-”i was thinking about it. do you?”

-”fuck, i mean if she’d left me her number or something then sort of, yeah.”

-”well we should just talk to her about it.” Ashton finally says

-cuz neither of them are mad about it you know? like they understand the whole business of a one night stand. a mix up like this has never happened before but whatever

-so they go downstairs and Luke approaches you while Ashton goes and finishes what he was doing when Luke grabbed him

-”hey.” he says

-your heart visibly dies because you look really shook, but you collect yourself, “hey.” (your friend had left a little bit earlier so you were alone with the tall boy)

-”i know about you and Ashton and it’s fine.” Luke says, hoping to ease your anxieties right away, “he’s chill with it and its all good.”

-”neither of you are mad at me?” you ask

-”no, why would we be?” Luke grins, “besides, it sounds like you were about to leave Ashton like you left me that morning but he woke up before you could dash.” he teases

-you laugh, letting out a breath, “yeah, sorry about that, i’m really not a ‘stay for breakfast’ kind of girl.”

-”sucks, i would have loved to take you out for food somewhere.”

-before you can respond Ashton is there, his arm around you, “lets go sit on the couch.” he states

-so the three of you go to the couch and you all sit down, Ashton’s arm around you, Luke’s hand on your thigh

-you’re not sure what they’re even going to say to you

-and then your favourite song begins playing and of course you say “i love this song!” and you have to get up and dance

-so you get up and dance and they’re both watching you and they both adore the way your body moves

-before they can help themselves they’re both dancing with you

-Ashton behind you, Luke in front

-and when i say ‘dancing with you’ i mean a lot of hip grabbing and grinding and all the shameless dirtiness

-Ash’s lips find your neck and Luke bends down to kiss you

-you’re just like: ‘holy fuck is this leading where i think this is leading?’

-”you look so fucking sexy.” Ashton groans in your ear

-”fuck yeah she does.” Luke agrees

-”bedroom?” Ashton asks

-you all kind of look at each other, Luke nods and they both look at you. you nod and then Ashton is pulling you and Luke through the people and up the stairs to his bedroom

-going inside and locking the door immediately

-you can hear the muffled sound of dubstep and the bass thumping through the room from the room bellow

-they both are all over you

-not knowing whose hands are whose

-but all your clothes disappear and so do theirs

-you want to please them but they are both just way to turnt from looking at your gorgeous body since the moment you walked into the house so they make it clear the night is going to be about you

-Luke eating you out first while Ashton works on your tits and marking up your neck

-screaming their names and knowing no one downstairs will hear you because the music is so loud

-its so dirty, having both of them upstairs while Ashton’s party rages on under you

-then it’s Ashton’s turn and he uses his fingers which he is insanely good at

-you’re already a moaning mess by the time they ask if you’re ready for them

-and none of you really talked about double penetration or anything so that’s not on the table, instead Ashton fucks you first

-he fucks you from behind, holding you up to his chest by your neck while Luke kisses you and works on your tits and your clit

-when Ashton finishes, Luke switches in

-”i’m going to go kick everyone out.” Ashton informs the two of you, sending you a wink before he leaves

-Luke goes pretty hard too and you can tell part of him wants to prove a point and make you sorry for leaving before he woke up that morning

-he’s more into missionary or legs over the shoulders so he can kiss you

-his fingers (nails painted red) skimming over your throat, over the love bites Ashton left

-forehead against forehead as you both cum

-him staying inside you for a bit, both of you trying to steady your breathing

-”so can i have your number now?” he asks

-you both laugh your asses off

-cuddling against his chest

-Ashton comes back a while later, “everyone’s gone.” he says, collapsing onto the bed next to the two of you

-they both wrap their arms around you

-”you better be here when we wake up.”

-falling asleep and then waking up in their arms

-they have a pretty busy day but Ashton drags you and Luke to a breakfast diner a little ways away

-getting a back booth so you can sit between the two gorgeous men

-”so you guys are going on tour.” you say finally, addressing the elephant in the room

-”yeah but we both have your number now so…” Luke says, pulling out his phone and making a group chat between the three of you

-none of you want breakfast to have to end but they have stuff to go do so they drive you back to your place, giving them each a kiss goodbye

-and you think that’s going to be the last you see of them

-but no

-of course they want to see you again the last night before they go on tour

-the same sort of threesome happening

-they have to wake up early to catch a flight and they both kiss you before leaving, Ashton giving you a key to lock up when you finally leave because its like five in the morning and he is not about to just kick you out

-they leave, you sleep, and when you wake up you realize Ashton just gave you a fucking key

-you get your first message from them when they land at their first destination

-casual talking about what they have to do while promoting things

-they get horny way to often and are very vocal about it

-facetiming a bit

-naughty facetiming if you’re into it

-so Luke and Ashton are doing a pretty great job keeping you a secret

-Calum knows they both slept with you but he left Ashton’s party pretty early that night so he has no idea you all slept together

-as far as Cal is concerned, you’re just a girl Ash talks to sometime

-and then comes the interview

-”never have i ever dated someone another band member dated.” “hmmm…” (laughter) “maybe, i don’t know.” (both drink) “this worries me” “why are you two drinking right now?!” “i dont know.” “what does that mean?” “i don’t know.”

-as soon as they’re done the interview Calum’s just like “are you both still talking to Y/N?!”

-Luke and Ashton are both just kinda like ‘idk’ because technically they’re both still talking to you, would they call it dating? hmmmm, idk

-”you two better figure that shit out.” Michael states, “its not like you could both date her.”

-and of course this gives Ashton an idea.

-because he and Luke both really like you and they’re best friends so why not both date you?

-later that night Ashton goes to Luke’s room and the two of them call you

-”there are my guys.” you smile, “how was the interview?”

-they both kinda look at each other and laugh, “it was good, you’ll see it when its posted.” “how was your day Princess?”

-you talk about your day for a bit but you can see Ashton is a bit restless, you can hear his fingers tapping on some sort of surface in the hotel room, “Ashton are you okay?”

-”Michael said something today and it got me thinking about this whole situation.” Ashton explains. “we both really like you.” Luke jumps in. “and we both want to date you.” Ashton states, “both of us at once.”

-its such an odd conversation to take place over facetime

-”so like Polyamory?” you ask. “yeah.”

-”but you guys get back and then you go on your world tour-”

-”we want you to come on the world tour.” Luke grins

-so that’s a lot of surprise for one phone call

-”do you need time to think about it babe?” Ashton asks

-you laugh, “no, sorry i’m just a little shocked. yes i’ll go on tour with you two and yes, dating you both sounds good.”

-you talk for a bit but you have to go, you say goodbye and hang up. Luke and Ashton turn to each other and they’re both just like ‘this is insane’, but they’re really excited

-their press/promo tour continues and the three of you talk all the time

-you all really rely on good morning and good night messages

-telling them how your day went and hearing about what they’ve been up to

-Michael and Calum notice how much Luke and Ashton sneak off and finally Calum is just like “you know you can tell us about Y/N.” “can’t imagine why the fuck you wouldn’t want to.” Michael pipes in

-”we’re both dating her. officially.”

-”so Lashton is a thing now?” “don’t be jealous Michael-” “i’m not jealous, Malum for life bro.”

-they count down the days until their promo tour is done and they can come back to LA and see you

-and the two of them have this brilliant idea that they should send you some lingerie to wear for when they come back

-the day before they’re supposed to come home you find a package at your door, you go inside and open it to find a super expensive looking lingerie set that is absolutely stunning

-’Getting on the plane now, be back at the house at 6ish.’

-the fact that Ashton calls it the house is kinda cute. i mean, you have a key now so it’s ‘the house’

-going over to his place and putting on the lingerie set, its gorgeous but it’s missing something….

-going into his closet you find a soft, silky button up

-you slide the gorgeous material on and it just looks so good

-of course when they get home and find you waiting for them in the lingerie and button up they both are so shook

-i mean they expected the lingerie but the button up is a whole other level of sexiness they had not been prepared for

-amazingly rough and passionate sex because you missed your boys

-”if this is what we get to come home to after trips, we should leave more often.” Ashton teases when you’re all cuddled afterwards

-”are you trying to take back my tour invite Irwin?” you giggle

-”wouldn’t dream of it.”

-spending the rest of the night relaxing and having lazy sex and just enjoying each other

-”i should probably go back to my place-” you say at about one in the morning

-”what are you doing about your place while you’re on tour with us?” Ashton asks

-you hadn’t really thought about it

-”um… i don’t know actually.”

-”it would be a waste for you to pay your rent while on tour, so let me pay or you could move in here for while we’re away.” Ashton suggests

-wow. boy already wants you to move in with him? but i mean you are going on tour with him which is practically going to be the same thing

-and with this whole Polyamory thing its like, if you move in with Ash will it make Luke jealous?

-”Luke has his own place but he’s lived here before so it will be fine.” Ashton assures you

-and the next day the two of them are helping you move your stuff to Ashton’s place

-all of you packing for tour together

-Ashton of course tries to make you pack way more lingerie than is actually necessary

-i can just see a pile of Ashton’s luxurious button ups on his bed and the three of you totally having sex on them because the material feels so good on your skin

-Ashton deals with the schematics of you coming on tour, so he’s the one who makes sure you have a seat on the flights and calls to tell the hotels that he and Luke will only need one room and a king sized bed… or at least, Ashton tells an assistant or someone to go deal with that

-you’ve only actually been in person with them a few times but the time they were on promo tour really brought you all so close together

-being all cuddly and watching movies with them

-painting Luke’s nails

-he likes to look at the contrast of his nail polish against your skin, “red is definitely your colour baby.”

-they show you their music and its the bomb dot com yo

-Ashton definitely has a sex playlist and you’re a little shit so you sneak a few of their songs onto it. mid sex, More comes on and they both stop and you just laugh your ass off but they go with it

-dance parties in the living room together

-driving around the city running errands, Ashton likes to drive and you usually sit passenger with Luke in the back which Luke is not a fan of so sometimes he gets to drive

-Michael and Cal come over for dinner one night to meet you

-Luke and Ashton being super handsy even in front of Michael and Calum and you’re constantly hitting their hands away when they try to touch you while you’re trying to give your full attention to their friends

-”do you think they like me?” you ask when they leave. “of course they did,” Luke assures you. “think Cal liked you a little too much.” Ashton jokes

-they have to explain what its like with paparazzi and everything so you’re prepared for it

-instagram official is a thing but they both want to keep you secret a little bit longer because they know sometimes people they date get backlash and if you all come out as a poly triad it might be bad

-the first day of tour you all go to the airport, you have a hood pulled up and sunglasses, Luke walks in front of you and Ash walks beside you so they manage to shield you from a lot of the photographs

-its a long flight and you sit next to Ashton because Luke is exhausted already and sleeps most of the flight

-of course by the time you land at your first destination and get to the hotel there’s already news articles about ‘the 5sos mystery girl’

-you all have a quick rest before heading to the first venue

-they’re kinda jittery, first show can be stressful

-calming them down in a dressing room ;)

-kissing them both before they go on then finding your place in the crowd

-seeing them excel at what they love just makes your heart swell because holy fuck they’re amazing and they look so happy

-tour continues. lots of quickies and sex where you could definitely get caught but thats okay

-if Luke and Ashton are ever both MIA, Michael and Cal know what you’re up to

-”jesus fuck you’re both so horny!” Michael screams whenever Luke and Ashton come back from being MIA

-”yeah, you should give the poor girl a break.” Calum laughs

-”she should give us a break.” Luke jokes

-getting to wear Ashton’s button ups and getting Luke’s glitter on your face

-they are really hyper after concerts so that would defo be a thing fam

-Ashton is usually up to be awake longer than Luke so sometimes you sleep with him so Luke can go to bed earlier, but if you’re tired you go with Luke so who you sleep with on the bus really depends on how you’re feeling

-you manage to get a month into the tour before a full on picture of your face gets taken by a pap

-you, Luke and Ash were at breakfast somewhere, Luke was exhausted and cuddled against you

-so of course everyone thinks you’re dating Luke now

-people find your insta super fast it’s almost insane

-”well, cats out of the fucking bag.” Michael laughs when the three of you get back to the hotel

-you and Luke ask Ashton what he wants to do because he’s the one being left out

-deciding that you should all make a post about your relationship

-Luke chooses a super cute picture of the three of you holding hands walking through a venue that Andy took and his caption is short and sweet, something like “3′s not a crowd

-Ashton goes for a super aesthetic black and white picture Andy took of the three of you backstage on a couch, you lying half on top of both of them as you all make dumb faces, and this guy would totally quote one of his own songs lets be real here, maybe “Got nothing but love for you, fall more in love every day.” but idk man, i can’t imitate Ashton’s captions

-and you post a cute pic of the three of you with a caption like “the baes.” or some shit

-fandom. shook.

-and of course as soon as these pictures come out people totally jump on the interview where they said they had dated someone who dated another band member

-can you imagine if you hadn’t actually seen the interview (i mean you can’t see everything they do) and people are tagging you in it and you finally go watch it and you’re just like “oh my god guys what the fuck.”

-okay so lets do some general tour with Lashton HC’s because this is practically a fanfic in bullet points by now

-so. many. aesthetic. pictures

-and they’re both kinda sugar daddies who would love to pamper the shit out of you so on tour they would definitely be getting you new lingerie in almost every city

-”Ashton i don’t need anymore lingerie.” “i don’t half ass things Y/N. i said i was going to buy you a new set in every city and i intend to buy you a new set in every city.” “Luke, help me convince him that i don’t need-” “Y/N i think i’m with Ashton on this one.”

-the raunchiest times in your hotel suites

-like Michael made the mistake of knocking on the door once and Luke appeared holding a pillow over his dick while the rest of him was naked, lipstick stains on his mouth and neck, glitter on his cheekbones, “what do you want?” a scream being heard from inside the hotel room that makes Luke look behind him and laugh, and Michael’s just like “fuck, forget it mate.” and leaves (do i want to make a one shot about this moment? yes. yes i do now.)

-and you totally figure out things that make them super horny so you always pull shit right before concerts

-like Ashton dies when you wear his button ups with a slightly exposed lacy bra underneath

-and Luke will practically cum on the spot when you wear red lipstick

-lots of grabbing because they are impatient as fuck

-Luke loves to carry you around venues

-going out and seeing cities together and all just being so happy and together

-god this is so cute what the fuck am i doing to myself

-and these boys love to see you dance so they’ll take you to clubs but you never stay long because they can’t wait to get you back to the hotel

-half naked dance parties in your hotel rooms

-room service is a thing for you three

-you and Luke staying in bed all cuddly while Ashton goes to the door to get the food

-playing with their beautiful hair

-Luke gets a bit scruffy sometimes on tour and it drives you wild

-almost not being able to head down to the hotel pool because you are so marked up by your lover boys

-but like same for them. you drive their make up team insane because of all the hickies they have to cover up

-straight up one of them sitting you down and being like, “here is a picture of Luke on an average night, his shirts go this low. so if you could please avoid this general area of his body here,” (motions to picture) “i would really appreciate it.”

-you’re living such an insane life

-but like they are on tour with their band so some nights you just stay at the hotel or chill in the bus and they go off with Michael and Cal which is super chill because like, they’re all best friends

-but as soon as they come back they make it up to you ;)

-dirty sweaty post concert sex

-so this is 5.5 k already. don’t know how the fuck that happened

-this is just the golden boy triad and i am in love.

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin x reader #luke hemmings #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings x reader #lashton #lashton x reader #smut #hc #softforcal #poly #poly!lashton #poly lashton #poly lashton x reader

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 6 years ago

Text

Stay Ch. 16

Master List

Pairing: Natasha X Reader (Female)

Summary: You have a gift, the ability to see other people’s innermost secrets. For years you used it to gather intel for the highest bidder when you take on The Widow. After she becomes more than a mark the two of you spend years stealing moments. Post snap you wait in your designated meeting place, look back on the sordid past you share with the woman you love and hope against everything that she’s still alive.

Warnings: Angst, and fluff, and feels oh my!

A/N: So yeah I swear I wroth an authors note for this... but idfk what happened.

ANYWAY! Thank you all for being so patient while I got my life together. This one is also short and sweet (guess that’s the mood I’m in). However, y’all should know me by now. This is just the calm before the storm.

Hope you enjoy this one my pumpkins!

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @5aftermidnight@jeromethepsycho @marvel-randomness @daniellajocelyn @katecolleen @yanginginthere@wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @lesbian-girls-wayhaught @siriuslycloudy2

March 2007

At some point in the last five months, you’d stopped recognizing yourself. The woman in the mirror wasn’t Y/N. Her hair was different, down to even the eyebrows. Her accent distinctly that of a life long Londoner. She worked for an independent UK couture fashion magazine, chose wine over whiskey, and was distinctly heterosexual.

When the chance to work this job requiring deep cover came up in December you jumped on it. You didn’t want to be you anymore. The you that couldn’t be with the woman you loved. The you that was heartbroken. The you who was beginning to doubt that you’d ever be happy. Fuck her.

Being Charlie Daniels was far better. She was, of course, a real person. Just one who was now living comfortably in the Bahamas courtesy of MI6. Even legit agencies had use of freelance talent every now and then.

Settling into her life had been easy. Not setting her boss on fire or blowing his brains out daily was a different task altogether. Turned out that a magazine was a great front for a crime empire. Lots of international travel, young and beautiful and desperate men and women, money exchanged in countless untraceable ways, on and on. And this fucker was happy to take advantage of every single disgusting avenue it opened up.

You almost had everything you needed to hand to MI6, get your obscenely large payout, and get on to another gig while they threw all of these bastards into cells to rot for the rest of their miserable lives. Just one more trip. After whatever horrible things they lay out in Tokyo you’ll be set.

Tokyo is one of those cities you can lose yourself in. Like New York but better for its interesting balance of vibrancy and grounded reserve. You absolutely love it.

The whole point of the trip, at least on the surface, was to focus on Fashion Week Tokyo. Honestly, there was a part of you that wished this was your world. Nothing but runway shows and after parties. Writing about the latest trends rather than delving into the inner workings of the worlds miscreants

Oh well. It was nice enough to pretend. You had to admit that you’d miss Charlie Daniels once you shed this skin in a couple of weeks.

You’re sitting two people down from your boss at an underground show. The level of security here screams that there are other things going on behind the scenes but it’s still a room filled with a who’s who of the Japanese and international fashion communities.

This was your third show of the day, and you knew there would be a party after where you’d have to schmooze all while plucking information from your unsuspecting fellow guests. You’re exhausted. So rather than pay much attention to the show you let your mind wander.

When she walks out you feel her rather than see her. Slowly you turn your head to stare dumbstruck at the model walking onto the catwalk. Your heart begins beating against your ribs, your mouth goes dry, your hands shake.

It takes every ounce of control you have to keep your emotions in. To not scream “Natasha!” at the top of your lungs. To not grab her and run for the hills. Charlie Daniels and her easy life be damned. It’s hard but you manage.

As she turns and comes back down, passing now closer to you, her eyes don’t graze the crowd at all. Head up, shoulders back, she walks the runway like she’d been doing it for years.

The rest of the show is maybe ten minutes but it feels like years. You know the models are all attending the party. Eye candy for the high end guests.

It’s fairly easy to ditch your coworkers in the crowd as you try to find the best vantage point in the room without being too obvious. After a solid twenty minutes, you find yourself planning an escape route. Most of the models are milling about but she’s no where to be seen. You will find her.

But you know you can’t skip out just yet. At the bar, you order a red wine and make yourself seen. Charlie would never miss the whole party after all. You spend a bit chatting with designers and a few models, feigning interest in the whole thing until you hear your boss call out to you.

“Oy, Charlie!” Carl’s voice alone makes you want to put him down. When you turn he’s waving you over to the bar. Sighing heavily you head over.

You’re about ten feet away when you see her, head back laughing at something Carl or his friend had said. Both men are far to close to her for your liking and the hungry look on Carl’s face sets your blood boiling.

He slings an arm around your shoulders and you carefully coach your face to not show disgust. “Charlie here is my best writer. Doin’ some pieces for us on this whole thing,” he waves his other hand around wildly.

“Good to meet ya, Charlie, I’m Dan,” the other man, clearly American says.

“Likewise,” Natasha doesn’t react to the accent at all.

“This here is-”

“Natalie,” Natasha cuts him off, extending a hand to you. Holding her eyes with yours you take it. It’s like touching a live wire.

“Natalie is an American model working here in Japan. May be a good topic for a piece.” He ribs you leaning closer, “And a good piece for the office eh?” Suddenly that MI6 money seems far less appealing.

“I’d love that,” Natasha beams. “Why don’t you guys go mingle and Charlie and I can chat!” The men exchange a glance, but there’s plenty of fresh meat around to sink their teeth into.

Carl flashes you a greasy smile and a wink as he walks away. Thinking clearly that you’re going to snare this woman for him. You, unfortunately, had a few others. Not something you were proud of. Demands of the job you told yourself.

“She’ll take a vodka neat,” you tell the bartender.

“Yes,” Natasha smiles at him, “Whiskey for her. Makers if you have it.” He thinks nothing of it and makes your drinks.

“So, how’s modeling in Japan?”

“Probably about as good as writing for a sleazy jackal.”

You laugh, “That bad? What’s the goal.”

“Getting a cover,” you commend the clever word play.

“That’s a good goal. Long term?”

“Something like that.” She takes a sip of her vodka, “How long are you here?”

“End of the week.” Your skin itches to touch her. The men are rounding back. You hold her gaze and shift your eyes back to them. She catches on.

“Perfect! It’s so hard to have a good interview here, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely. Why don’t you come by my hotel?” You whip out your spare key card. “I’d love to get your story for the mag, maybe do a full feature.”

“A feature would be excellent exposure!”

“Wouldn’t it?” Carl slides up next to her. “We can get you all the exposure you could want Ms. Natalie.”

“Charlie was telling me all about it.” She flashes him a coy smile. “Thank you so much Charlie! I forgot I have a late fitting tonight for another show so I’ve got to run. But we’ll chat soon yeah?”

“Absolutely! It was so good to meet you Natalie.”

“Same! Bye!” She hurries through the crowded room and disappears.

“Busy girl.” Carl quips. “Whiskey?” You look down at the glass by your hand.

“Some guy sent them over,” you gesture to Natasha’s lipstick stained glass. “Seemed rude to refuse. Can’t stand the stuff though.”

“That’s a mans drink,” Carl laughs at his own perceived joke and you force a smile.

Somehow you make it through the rest of the evening. You’d refused to allow yourself to hope that she’d be here, too obvious to come the same night, better to wait. Kicking off your shoes you head straight to the mini bar and crack open a whiskey, downing it in one gulp.

“You really need to be more careful,” Natasha’s voice comes from the bathroom. “I mean not even checking around. Sloppy.”

“Charlie Daniels doesn’t have to check for Russian assassins in her bathroom,” a smile pulls your face so tight it hurts.

“Well, Natalie Rushman isn’t a Russian spy. So…”

You let your real accent resurface as you pull her into your arms, “Natalie Rushman, I don’t know if that’s clever or lazy.” She kisses you hard, tongue sliding over your lips hands gripping your ass.

“Mmm,” she hums. “Kinda like the accent.”

“Oh?” You revert to the clipped posh Londoner sound. “Would you rather be with Charlie? I hate to break it to you, she’s strictly into dick so you may need to get a bit creative.”

Natasha’s head falls back with laughter, “I’m always into a challenge but,” she cups your face in her hands, “I’d much rather Y/N, she’s got a cute accent too.” Your kiss is soft this time, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, honey.” Gently you push a strand of hair out of her face. “Is this smart? Are you gonna get-”

“I’m good. I wouldn’t be here if I thought there was risk.” She pulls away and tugs you toward the bed. “There’s no surveillance on me here, I check in every week, that’s it. This is strictly to build a cover.”

“Cover for what?” She gives you a sideways glance. “Right. National security.”

“Do you really want to talk about work?”

Smirking at her you push her back on the bed. “Maybe later.”

You lean down to her but she stops you by planting a strappy heel in the center of your chest. Trailing your fingers down her leg you snag a knife from her thigh holster. Carefully you slide the blade under the straps, the incredibly sharp edge cuts through the thin suede like it’s nothing.

“Those were very expensive you know,” eyes sparkling with desire.

You slip the shoe off and toss it aside. “I’ll buy you a new pair.” Your lips press against her ankle.

Everything in your life until her was so fleeting. Even your own name, the sound of your own voice, who you were… But with her, you were grounded. You weren’t anything but her’s, you were Y/N.

Suddenly you’re overwhelmed. Caressing her muscular calf you just stare at her eyes. Emerald green, dark liner, lids heavy with lust and exhaustion.

“Natasha…” Your voice cracks and you fight for composure.

“Y/N? What is it?” She shoots up, cradling your face in her hands.

You shake your head, unable to really find the words and unwilling to send this storm of emotions to her. “I just…” You cover her hands with your own. It’s not that you don’t want her, you do. But…

“Can we just… I just wanna hold you…” Her expression immediately softens, eyes sparkling a touch with tears. “Sorry… I… I just…”

“I’d love that, baby.” Tenderly her lips brush yours, then your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids as they flutter closed.

You shed your clothes and crawl into the plush bed. Holding tight to one another you spend hours drifting in and out of sleep, covering the other with soft kisses. Before the sun rises your hands wander southward.

This time you don’t fuck one another senseless. It feels like you’re trying to memorize every curve, every sound, every subtle thing that marks being together. You both know you many not get to do this for some time. The knowledge aches but it doesn’t make having her any less sweet.

Post Snap

You lean your head back on the wall behind the booth. The crying man from last night is gone, you find yourself hoping that he’s resting peacefully somewhere… even though you know it’s pointless to hope for such things.

There are more people filling the bar than there was before. The TVs are off, radios turned up, reporters frantically trying to determine what happened. It was global, that was clear. All planes grounded, trains stopped, communications spotty due to damaged cell towers.

A man speaks frantically to someone who seems to be a friend that he was heading to Nuremberg from Budapest, how the roads are almost not navigable. He doesn’t know if his family is even still there but he has to find out.

Despite his distress, your lips curl a bit at the mention of Budapest.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #black widow #queer fic #wlw

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qqueenofhades · 6 years ago

Note

You have given such great advice to so many, so I want to ask you my strange question. I have to write a story . . . a long one . . . a memoir . . . about this terrible thing that happened, that was overcome by grit pretty much, and lead to changes for the better in society. I've been putting it off for 5 years now, and need to do it. For reasons. I already have an interested publisher but am hesitant to get into this world I know nothing about. Any advice? Any good memoirs out there you love?

Oh wow. First of all, that sounds like a lot, and good for you for tackling it. I’m not sure how much I can say to your situation specifically, but I’ll see what I can do?

First, and while this may be obvious: write it only if you feel like you can in fact really do it. If you feel like you should do it, but don’t want to, or are still not ready for it or whatever, then it will be a huge drag on you, and it won’t be as good as it could be, and it sounds like a project on this scale should be done when you’re ready to commit serious time and attention to it. Maybe you’re in fact ready but need a push to get going, in which case great! Consider yourself gently nudged and greatly encouraged. But I’m also a believer that things have their place and season, so if you need a little more time, even though it’s already been five years, you should take that. On the other hand, if you know you’re ready to do it but just are having trouble breaking the procrastinating cycle, then find some way to ease yourself in. You can’t think about writing the whole thing at once, it will probably go through many rounds of revisions and edits, and you’re not going to end up with a finished project on day one. As someone who just finished a PhD dissertation that took three years, still has some final stuff to be added, and underwent COUNTLESS rewrites/critiques/edits/reworkings along the way, I know what a slog it is. But you can’t think of The End Result on day 1. Write parts of it, or scenes, or ideas, or lines. Whatever you need to start moving yourself into that space and to make tangible progress on it.

Next, I have had my run-around with the traditional agent/editor/publisher thing, though in the realm of fiction rather than memoirs, and it’s really frustrating, takes forever, and seems to involve endless effort and submission for very little result. If you already have an interested publisher: great! That will save you a whole lot of time and struggle in terms of finding who is going to give a platform to this once you’re done. Is this someone you feel like you can work with? Do they understand the project and are they willing to commit to working with you (rather than over you or around you) for the time that it will take to tell the story? You should still ask yourself these questions, since they’re not your ONLY option. If it was a case where they’re an okay fit but maybe not the best, or you wanted things tweaked, or didn’t know if you would feel comfortable with the working relationship, or anything – you still have the right to shop around. That is, if you’re not already physically under contract/have a deadline/etc. Before you do sign anything, see if you can find a lawyer friend or family member, or someone with experience in that department, to read it for you. Read it yourself too, of course, but also get an expert eye on it if possible.

With memoirs, and especially ones which apparently deal with sensitive topics like this one, there’s also a question of ethics. Are you going to change/conceal the names of real people you write about? Are there personally identifiable details or situations you can’t disclose? Are there possible legal restrictions about what you can say and how? I am a scholar, so my approach to do things like this is by evidence and documentary and citations, but that might not be your style. Nonetheless, there will be a reasonable expectation on the part of your readers that you are presenting them with a factual account of things that happened. There have been several high-profile cases recently where best-selling memoirs were discovered to have been partly or entirely fictionalised. Which…. is fine, if you’re writing fiction, but if this is marketed as a memoir and contains a claim to biographical or factual accuracy, how are you going to organise and present the materials you are working with, even if just for your own benefit? Unlike in an academic monograph, you don’t have to give a list of citations at the end, but even if you’re writing from your own memory about things that happened to you (presumably), there are going to be things you don’t remember/don’t know about/etc. Is there a way to provide supporting evidence to your reader? Were there news articles written about it? Is there somewhere else they can go apart from you, in other words, to verify this account?

If you’re interviewing people or including substantial portions that represent the thoughts/words of others, you’ll also want to make that clear and have some kind of system for referencing. Journalists would also advise you to use audio recorders when interviewing in a formal context, so you can go back and check words later (and also have physical proof if there’s ever any question about what was said). You also have to provide your subjects with some assurance that their words and views will be represented accurately, which may necessitate some kind of brief legal document or waiver for them to sign to give you permission to do that (and once again, about having a paper trail for your own benefit and legal protection). Once again, if you have a lawyer you can consult about this somewhere, especially someone who’s used to this kind of work, that would be helpful. I am not one and therefore am not going to give any kind of legal advice, but I can say that it could be definitely something for you to look into, and might help you feel more confident about what can be used and how.

I’m trying to think if there’s anything else I can say off the top of my head. I obviously write a certain kind of rigorously researched nonfiction with my academic stuff, though that’s not the same as personal memoir. I do think organisation, preparation, and general attention to starting off on a solid foot will help you, and like I said, you’re not expected to have it all written immediately. Some drafts or notes or outlines of the whole thing, however rough and subject to revision, will also help you.

Good luck!

#writing advice #anonymous #ask

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ktrsss1fics · 7 years ago

Text

Passionfruit.

There is a saying that says, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

In order for something to happen in Vegas, Georgina Ferguson needed to get to Las Vegas. She should have been getting ready for brunch with the girls but she wasn’t. She was currently stuck in a window seat on an overcrowded Delta plane at LAX. They had been stuck at the gate for the past forty-five minutes. She was on her way to meet her friends to celebrate Mags’ birthday and to watch Niall perform at the iHeartRadio festival.

At that very moment, she regretted her decision to book the flight. Her original plan was to drive out after work Friday night. She could have slept on the floor in Brittany’s room and enjoyed an extra night out with her friends. The universe had other plans for her. Georgina didn’t get out of the office until half past eight. By the time she finished packing, she’d be driving through the desert in the dead of the night. Too many dangerous hypotheticals had filled her brain so she decided against it.

Since arriving back from Aruba, she tried to be more of an active participant in her social life. She tried to not let work consume her. She spent a few nights a week bouncing between the homes of her friends. Most of those nights were filled with food and laughter. On the nights she wasn’t trying to change her friends’ perception of her, Georgina was sat in a theater room with a bottle of wine and a curious puppy.

Niall’s adoption of Scout had been beneficial to the entire group. They had something to occupy their time while he was gone. Scout took day trips with Britt and Dave, stayed the weekends with Mags and Jamie, and spent the rest of her time at Georgina’s flat. The little chocolate lab was a constant reminder of their Irish best friend. Everyone tried to spend as much time with her as possible.

When the plane finally was up in the air, Georgina used her time to mentally prepare for the weekend. Her itinerary included a little bit of gambling, some fun by the pool, and a good amount of alcohol. She had no issues with those plans. She had actually been looking forward to them all week.

There was one thing that she was worried about.

It was going to be the first time she’s seen Niall since he left.

They texted every day and FaceTimed when he could but things were different. She’d get to see him in the flesh for the first time in a month and she was nervous about it.

She was nervous that things were going to be different. She was nervous that him being away would change where things were headed. She was nervous that he had found someone new.

She knew it was her insecurities poisoning her mind. She hadn’t been in this phase of a relationship in a very long time. The last time she had a serious crush on someone was when she was thirteen. The last time she wanted to get to know someone better she still had posters of Take That on her walls. She felt like the rusted Tin Man in the forest and Dorothy hadn’t found her yet.

By the time she came out of her thoughts, the plane was ready to make its final descent. She hadn’t realized how quick the flight had been. She made a mental checklist of what she needed to do as soon as she got off the plane. When she headed to baggage claim, she turned her cell phone back on. A flurry of notifications flew across the screen. There were a few messages from work and a voicemail from her mother. The rest of the notifications were from her friends giving her a hard time for being late. She watched a series of videos on Snapchat of Niall and the boys giving her a lecture. Hearing his laugh, seeing his face, and realizing in a short few hours she’d be able to be in his presence made her nerves start to fade.

Her luggage came around the conveyor belt quicker than she anticipated. She was in the middle of setting up a ride on Lyft when the llama luggage tag her brother gifted her last Christmas caught her eye. As she went to grab her bag, a text message came in. Apparently, there was a car waiting to pick her up. She was so surprised by the gesture that she didn’t pick her bag up in time. She took a deep breath as she waited for it to come around again. She needed to get it together.

With her luggage in hand, she made her way towards the exit. A dark haired man, waiting by a black town car, held a sign with her name on it. Niall always thought of everything. The man was from Texas and reminded of her father’s brother. He made a few jokes as they fought through airport traffic. She sent the girls a message letting them know she was on her way.

Jenna’s aunt had helped the group get a block of rooms at a discounted rate at the Cosmopolitan. From the pictures that were sent, the rooms were nicer than all of their homes combined. It was going to be a good time.

As the car turned onto Tropicana, a wave of electricity shot through her body.

She made it.

She was in Las Vegas and she was ready for whatever the weekend had in store.

As soon as she got to the hotel, Georgina checked in and headed straight to her room. She wanted to change out of her flight clothes and into something more comfortable before she saw her friends. She pulled out two birthday cards from her carry-on bag. The one for Mags was filled out within a few seconds. She gushed about their friendship and how much she appreciated the older sister influence Mags brought to her life. The second card was left blank.

She didn’t know what she wanted to say -- not yet at least.

She grabbed one of the wrapped gifts from her luggage and her purse before leaving the room. Almost instantly, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She had put a ban on all work business for the weekend. When Debra’s name appeared on the screen, she knew that ban was a good idea. She hit ignore as someone catcalled her from down the hall. She looked up to find Jamie standing with a smug look his face and a bucket of ice in his hand.

“Does your lady know you’re catcalling other women?” Georgina asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Ehh, she won’t mind it.” He smiled as he waited for her to catch up.

Georgina picked up her pace until she met him. They shared a brief embrace before falling in stride with one another.

“You fly the plane here yourself, Ferguson?” He teased as they stopped in front of a room.

“Feels like it.” She sighed.

“You just missed Ni.” Jamie said trying to get his room key out of his wallet. “He had to go do soundcheck or an interview or something official.”

Georgina took the ice bucket trying to help, “Oh. How was brunch?”

“Bit overpriced if you ask me.” He shrugged. “But it was nice. Right now we are trying to make a plan. The um girls were thinking about going to the pool. The lads and I were going to start drinking. You are welcome to join either group.”

“Good to know.” She smiled. “How’s she doing?”

“Countdown to thirty has already started.” He said shaking his head.

“Is she mad I missed brunch?” Georgina asked slightly worried.

Jamie looked surprised. “No way. She totally understands. She had a meltdown Wednesday night because she didn’t think she’d get everything done on Thursday. Work comes first.”

“I feel so guilty.” She sighed. “I’ve been doing good lately. I just don’t want you guys to go back to disliking me because I work all the time.”

“Fergie, you need to cut yourself some slack. You’re doing your best and it shows. No one hates you.” He said stroking her back gently. “No one ever has.”

“But in Aruba…” She started to say but stopped when he turned to open the door.

“That was Keith being a twat.” Jamie shook his head. “We might give you shit but it’s because we love ya.”

Georgina faked a smile stepping inside the room, “If you say so James.”

“Who’s there?” Brittany’s distinct voice called out as she leaned towards the door. “Hey babe!”

“Fergie!” Mags squealed as she stepped out of the bathroom.

The two women pulled each other into a tight embrace.

“I’m so sorry I missed it.” She whispered in the older girl’s ear.

“Hush! You’re alright love.” Mags squeezed her a little tighter. “Didn’t miss much.”

“First rounds on me tonight, yeah?” Georgina said as she pulled away.

“Not gonna argue with that.” Mags winked before motioning towards the bar. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks.” She smiled before handing over the gift. “Happy Birthday!”

While Mags read her card, Georgina walked around the room greeting the rest of her friends. Brittany had gotten up to refill her drink. She filled up an extra flute of champagne and handed it to her best friend. Georgina placed a kiss on her as a sign of gratitude.

“Flight from hell?” Brittany asked with a laugh.

“You have no idea.” Georgina said taking a small sip from her glass.

“Did ya have a fucking layover in Wolvo or what?” Dave teased bringing over a container of orange juice for the blonde to add to her drink.

She put out her glass for him to fill. “It feels like it.”

“What took so long?” He asked topping it off.

Georgina tapped her glass against his as a thank you.

“Apparently, planes need fuel to fly.” She said dryly.

“You don’t say.” He replied in a faux posh accent.

“Shocking, I know.” She replied mimicking his tone.

“Ferguson, I love you!” Mags called from the room caressing a bottle of sherry.

“Love you too, Sister Mary Margaret.” Georgina teased making everyone in the room laugh.

“Who wants Bristol Cream?” Mags called out opening the bottle.

Brittany got up and headed across the room to fill up another cup.

Georgina felt Dave move closer to her. He raised his drink to cover his mouth but she couldn't understand what he was trying to say. He scanned the room. No one would notice if they slipped out onto the balcony.

Dave nodded towards the door and made his way outside. Georgina followed behind him. Once outside, she sat down on the chair in the corner. Her eyes trailed off to the sun soaked Strip as he sat down beside her.

Dave sipped on his beer slowly. Georgina took her eyes off the road and focused on him.

“What's up?” She asked nudging his leg.

“He's nervous.” He said keeping his eyes on the street.

It took a moment for Georgina to realize who he was referring to. Once she did, she didn't know how to respond.

“He's like really nervous.” He repeated.

“I would be too.” She stated deciding to play it cool. “I mean two performances in one day and all those people to sing too.”

“No babe. He's not nervous about that.” Dave said turning his attention to her. “He's done all that before. He’s used to playing massive crowds. He's nervous because he's going to be performing for you.”

She tried her best to fight off the blush that wanted so badly to form. “What?”

“You haven't seen him solo yet. He's worried he's not going to impress you.” Dave smiled.

“How do you know that?” She asked shyly.

“Told me during our cuddle this morning.” Dave said placing a hand on her leg.

Georgina’s face lit up. “Your what?”

“Britt went to Jenna’s room to help her with her hair so we just had a little cuddle and talked about the day.” Dave explained. “He just mentioned he was a bit worried that you wouldn't like it. You're the last one of the group to see him perform.”

She couldn't help but smile. Niall Horan was probably the sweetest boy she'd ever met. He always wanted to please his friends. He was such a perfectionist. If one of them wasn't pleased with something, he would try his best to fix it. He wanted them to like his music and so far he had succeeded.

Dave squeezed her leg, “Are you two together?”

She shook her head finishing off her glass. His straightforward approach took her by surprise.

“Really? He's more smitten than usual.” Dave said surprised. “I figured maybe you came to your senses.”

“We’re just friends.” She said glancing up at him.

Dave nodded. “Oh.”

“But like not like before. Like actual friends.” Georgina admitted softly.

“So you aren't being a dick to him anymore, that's good to know.” He teased making her blush. “That's probably why he's a lot happier.”

“He uh cares a lot. I couldn't do that to him.” She admitted. “I mean he's Marcus but he's not Marcus, ya know?”

Dave looked confused before it hit him. “Fuck. He's Marcus.”

She nodded slowly. “That's why I hated him.”

“But he's like top shelf Marcus,” Dave replied. “Like top shelf top class non-cheating Marcus.”

“So basically he’s not Marcus. He’s Niall.” She laughed making him smile.

“Yeah. Niall’s Niall.” Dave said.

“The reason I was looking for him that day was because I felt bad for being mean to him.” She explained. “Our last dinner in Aruba made me realize everyone thinks I'm a bitch so I've been trying to fix it.”

Dave rolled his eyes. “Fuck Keith. His opinion doesn't matter.”

“Yeah well it put things into perspective.” She sighed. “So when I couldn't find him, I thought he left for Ireland already and I had been mean to him so I wanted to fix things.”

“And you fixed them. Kid still thinks you shit rainbows and butterflies.” Dave teased.

Georgina shoved him playfully. “Fuck off.”

He leaned in close and lowered his voice. “I didn't tell Britt and I won't tell her about this either.”

“Why not?” She asked watching him finish off his drink.

He shrugged. “Like keeping secrets with you.”

“Just like primary school.” Georgina said patting his leg. “Never did tell Britt you had a crush on her.”

“No but fucking Sophie did.” He grumbled.

“Can't say anything around the women in that family unless you want everyone to know it.” Georgina said as the balcony door opened.

“You convince her to make out with Ni, yet?” Mags asked with a smirk.

Dave’s eyes lit up as he scanned between the two women. “What?”

“Nothing!” They sang in unison.

He narrowed his eyes at them. “Don’t believe ya. I’ll be keepin’ my eyes on you two today.”

Mags rolled her eyes dramatically. “Wastin’ your time love.”

“It’s girl talk.” Georgina said patting his leg. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Fergie Ferg, we are going shopping at Caesars.” Mags said. “Wanna come?”

“Sure.” She smiled as she stood up.

“Georgina, if you want to make out with him, he’d let you.” Dave said patting her leg as she walked past him.

Mags and the rest of the girls started laughing loudly. Heat rushed to Georgina’s cheeks.

“Oh fuck off, all of ya.” She rolled her eyes as she headed inside.

The best thing about Las Vegas is the mentality that rules don't matter. What happens there, stays there. The possibilities are endless. A person can openly drink a cocktail, smoke a cigarette and gamble all while waiting for their morning breakfast. Naked women are sprawled across the streets of the Strip while men from Australia strip for bachelorette parties full of intoxicated women. Buffets of surf, turf, and everything in between are accessible twenty-four hours a day. Alcohol is served in bowls, pyramids, and even the Eiffel Tower. It's every wild child’s paradise.

Georgina was trying her best to live up to that wild child persona. So far she had won fifty dollars playing roulette, bought a Celine Dion shirt for her mother, and watched Mags spend too much money on a pair of shoes. She even splurged on some Taco Bell on the way to the arena where the concert was being held. She was already enjoying this trip a lot more than the last time she was in Sin City -- and she hadn't even seen Niall yet.

She felt good and that in itself felt good.

She currently stood beside Jenna in an overcrowded line at a concession stand. Britt and Mags were right behind them. The boys had sent them on a beer run. They were only a few songs away from when Niall was due on stage and the boys wanted to do a celebratory toast in his honor.

Georgina couldn't deny that she was a bit nervous. The fear of the unknown was always something she struggled with. Being that this was the first time she'd get to see Niall by himself, she didn't know what to expect. She knew he was a great performer. But he wasn't going to have those four moving parts around him and that was a scary thought. The rest of their friends had already seen him perform on more than one occasion. They made it to Wango Tango, they caravanned down to see him in San Diego, they made the trip out to be at Summertime Ball, and they scheduled their life around the LA date of his current tour.

She couldn't do that. Her job wouldn't allow it.

She fit a tinge of guilt when she thought about watching him sing. It had nearly been a year since he released his first solo single and she hadn't taken the time to see him sing it live. She knew that he understood. Her work schedule was hard to plan around. But there was something inside her that made her feel like a terrible friend for waiting so long.

That's part of the reason why she needed to get her hand on a pint before he came on stage. She needed something to calm her nerves.

By the time the girls got back to their seats, Ryan Seacrest took the stage to amp up the crowd before announcing who the next act was. As soon as Ireland left his lips, it was pretty obvious who it was going to be.

A boisterous chant began as the lights went out. High pitched squeals and mind-numbing screams filled the air. The lights went out. A drum beat started to play as Georgina held her breath.

This was it. The moment she was waiting for.

By the time the rest of the band kicked in, a spotlight shone brightly on center stage. A charismatic boy from the midlands of Ireland stood with a guitar and a beaming smile on his face. As soon as the first note left his lips, Georgina and the group of women standing in front of her were done for. They had perfect reason to be. His voice sounded even better in person.

Two songs in, Georgina almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Niall Horan was the ultimate performer. The way he moved around the stage and interacted with the audience was electric. His dedication to his craft was admirable. Everyone in the stadium could tell that he genuinely loved what he was doing. He had grown so much since she’d seen him last. He wasn’t just the fourth member of a boy band. He was a confident (and incredibly sexy) independent artist with a story to tell. She watched the group of women in front of her melt over the boy who was so drunk at Jamie’s 30th that he sang a potted plant to sleep.

His set was short but the songs he chose were memorable.With one song left, Niall rested an arm on his mic stand while taking a sip from a bottle of water. The cameraman focused in on his face. A mischievous glint shone in his eye. That look was infamous amongst the group -- especially was booze was involved. Georgina didn’t know what was about to happen but she knew it was going to be good.

Niall grabbed the mic off the stand and put the bottle on the floor. “Oi Vegas!”

The crowd cheered in response.

“Mr. Cameraman, can you put the camera on the spot that we discussed earlier?” He asked with a smile.

Georgina watched as the camera scanned the crowd. It wasn’t long until her face was being projected across the jumbo screen. Brittany and Dave erupted into laughter.

“Oh look it’s Fergie! Hey Ferg.” Niall cheered into the mic.

Her eyes went wide as all eyes focused on her. She raised her pint in front of her face trying to hide but it didn’t work. Niall’s infamous laugh erupted loudly through the sound system. Georgina shook her head. She could feel her entire body getting warm from the attention.

“Why ya – why ya shakin’ your head at me? Is it the attention? Am I embarassin’ ya?” He asked with a cheeky grin. “If any of you want to know any facts about flowers, Fergie’s your girl.”

Georgina casually flipped him off making the rest of her friends laugh. The group of women in front of her were quick to shoot dirty looks in her direction but she didn’t care. Niall was proving that things were going to be fine between them.

The smile on Niall’s face grew even bigger. “Fat Tuesday later?”

Wolf whistles escaped the lips of Jamie and Dave causing Georgina’s skin to grow pink.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He winked. He cleared his throat. “Anyways, we have to go over one more person. Op! There were go. Ladies and gentlemen, this is my friend Mags.”

Maggie dramatically took a bow making him laugh.

“Today is her twenty-ninth birthday.” He said making the crowd scream.

“You see the handsome devil on her left? That’s her fella Jamie.” Niall explained. “When the last song I’m gonna play tonight first came out, he was obsessed with it.”

“What is he doing?” Mags asked not knowing what was going on.

“Sang it in the shower, at the gym, on his way to work.” Niall laughed looking directly at his friend. “He sang it so much that little Miss Mags banned him from singin’ it.”

He jutted out his hip and started to mimic Mags’ accent. “If you aren’t Niall, you aren’t singin’ it.”

His entire group of friends keeled over in laughter. His impression was spot on.

“Anyways, if it’s alright with Miss Margaret, the last song of the night will be a little tune called ‘This Town’.” Niall said with a smile. “Is that alright with the Birthday Girl?”

The small brunette sent a double thumbs up towards the stage. The crowd cheered happily.

With a nod of his head, Niall placed the mic back on his stand as his drummer counted him in. The folky song about falling in love in a small town engrossed the audience. Brittany linked her arm around Georgina’s as a soft sing-along took form.

Jamie started off the song in perfect sync with Niall. By the time chorus came around for a second time, his singing stopped. No one really noticed though. No one saw him pull a box out of his pocket and get down on one knee. Mags gave him a confused look as he tugged on her hand. He started to speak but the sounds of the crowd made it hard to hear.

He realized his plan wasn’t working so he put a new one into place. This caught the eye of everyone around them. Tears formed in the eyes of Georgina and Brittany as they saw what was happening. Jamie opened the box to reveal a large diamond ring.

Without a second thought, Mags agreed. Jamie stood up and pulled her into his arms. A sweet embrace was shared between the newly engaged couple as the song came to an end. Niall peered into the crowd looking for his friends. Before thanking everyone for watching his play, he called out Jamie’s name hoping for good news. The cameraman panned the crowd until their group appeared once. Mags held up her hand showing off the ring that had just been put on. With a large smile on his face, Niall let out a small cheer before hopping off stage.

The lights went out and everyone prepared for the next performer to come on stage. Jenna worked her way over to the other girls. She pulled them into a group hug. Congratulatory kisses were placed across Mags’ face as her ring was inspected. They couldn’t believe what just happened. Their friends were engaged and the entire world got to see it.

Before the next performer went on, Georgina and the gang headed back to the hotel. They grabbed a few boxed meals from Taco Bell and a couple bottles of alcohol on their way up to Jamie and Mags’ room. A feast fit for a frat house commenced as they waited for Niall to join.

“Jim Jam, you take a loan out for that rock?” Georgina asked taking a sip of her mixed drink.

“I know Daddy Warbucks.” Jenna joked patting his back.

“Very funny.” Jamie rolled his eyes. “It was six months of overtime actually.”

“It’s stunning.” Brittany said grabbing Mags’ hand. “Absolutely stunning.”

“Way to put the pressure on mate.” Dave said. “We’ve got to compete with an entire planet.”

“Size shouldn’t matter.” Georgina said.

“We’ll uh let Ni know you think that.” Mags winked making the other girls laugh.

Heat rushed to Georgina’s cheeks as the boys started to join in on the teasing.

“I mean we aren’t sayin’ that’s an issue with him but uh it’s nice to know, right?” Keith said.

“Why do you guys always get naked together?” Brittany rolled her eyes.

Dave shook his head. “What we do by ourselves is none of your business.”

“You are all idiots.” Georgina said as a knock came to the door.

“Yeah yeah but you love us.” Jamie said as he left to answer it.

Standing with two magnum bottles of champagne and an excited look on his face was the group’s favorite Irishman.

“Nialler!” Brittany and Jenna cheered as he stepped inside.

Mags made her way towards him. “You are a little shit Niall Horan.”

“You loved every second of it..” Niall said with arms wide open.

“You’re right.” She whispered pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

“Congratulations babe.” He said placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Let’s get those bottles opened.” Keith said getting plastic cups ready.

Niall handed the bottles over before going around the room saying hello and thanking his friends for coming to see him play. With a half eaten taco in her hand, Georgina watched Niall joke around with Dave. He looked happy -- like genuinely happy -- and that made her happy.

He casually slipped away from Dave and made his way towards her. She put down her food and stood up from her spot on the couch. The light in his baby blue eyes grew a little brighter as he saw the smile on her face. He opened his mouth to thank her for coming but she stopped him.

“You’re a little shit Horan.” Georgina said shaking her head.

Niall just laughed before pulling her into his arms. She sighed as he held her close.

He whispered in her ear, “Have I fucking missed you…”

“Can’t say the same.” She said as he tightened his grip on her.

Niall pulled his head away from her confused. “Why?”

Georgina stood back and hit him in the arm. “Four fucking people asked me for flower facts before we left!”

Niall giggled trying to defend himself from her. “Fergie! I’m sorry. I thought I was bein’ funny.”

“You do know a lot about flowers, G.” Brittany said eavesdropping.

“Yeah well that doesn’t mean the whole world needs to know.” She said shyly.

“Ferg, you bring those black heels for me?” Jenna asked from across the room.

Georgina turned her attention towards her friend. “Yeah have ‘em in me room.”

“I need them before we leave.” She said taking a sip of her champagne.

“What are we gonna do?” Jamie asked. “Like what’s the game plan?”

“First we are going to toast to the happy couple.” Dave said raising his cup in the air.

“Oi oi!” Niall said slinging an arm around Georgina’s shoulder.

“Out of all of us, we knew it’d be you two first. Congratulations to Jamie and Mags.” Brittany said as the rest of the group finished their drinks.

“Now that that’s taken care of, we need to get fucked up.” Dave said casually. “Only logical.”

“Why don’t the ladies get ready while us men head downstairs and pillage the tables?” Jamie suggested.

“Sounds good to me.” Mags nodded. “Ferg, did you bring your big curling iron?”

“Yeah in me room.” She said. “And Britt, I brought the lipstick you asked for.”

“Girls trip to Ferg’s room.” Jenna said heading for the door. “Bye boys.”

Georgina turned towards Niall. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Ni, you gonna come with us?” Dave asked as the rest of the girls made their way to the door.

“I need to get a quick shower in first. Kinda sweaty and need to calm down after all that.” Niall said. “But I’ll meet you down there when I’m done.”

“Sounds good. We’ll see ya there mate.” Jamie said. “You two change your shit and let’s go.”

The group headed their separate ways. The boys got dressed and headed down to have a few cigars at the bar. The girls made their way to Georgina’s room in search of things they needed to get ready. When she opened the door, a surprise was waiting for her.

Sitting on the dresser near the television was a gorgeous floral arrangement.

The group of women couldn’t believe it. These weren’t the run of the mill arrangements bought at the farmer’s market. These were top-dollar boutique flowers. Georgina had a feeling about who they came from but she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

“What the fuck?” Mags whispered. “Georgina! Who are they from?”

“There’s no note.” Georgina said smelling them.

“You’ve got a secret admirer, G.” Brittany nudged her.

“I wonder who they’re from.” Jenna said touching a few of the petals.

Georgina turned to look at her friends. “You guys did this. Didn’t you?”

Jenna, Mags, and Brittany looked at her confused.

“If this is you three sending these pretending to be Niall so I will make out with him, I swear to God I’m going to lose my shit.” Georgina said with a sigh.

Mags cackled loudly, “That would be fuckin’ brilliant.”

“If we were pretending to be The Baby, we’d leave a note.” Jenna said crossing her arms over her chest.

“And we wouldn’t spend this much money on ya.” Brittany winked.

Georgina rolled her eyes. “You three are such bitches sometimes.”

“We are only jokin’ babe. Bit of banter.” Mags said softly. “We love ya too much to be that cruel.”

Georgina’s cheeks grew a little warm. Maybe there were from Niall after all.

“Maybe there were for Mags and they got delivered to the wrong room.” Jenna suggested.

“Or it could be that new guy at work. What’s his name Ferg? Nasty Nate?” Brittany asked.

“Nathaniel?” Georgina said running a hand over the top of the arrangement. “I hope not.”

“What if it was Marcus?” Brittany teased.

“You can fuck right off Brittany Anne.” Georgina glared.

“I'm only joking. He wouldn't be able to afford anything this nice.” Brittany said heading towards Georgina’s luggage.

“Whoever sent it has good taste.” Jenna sighed.

“Why ya sighin?” Georgina asked stroking Jenna’s back lovingly.

“Just bein’ a jealous sad sap.” Jenna shrugged. “I think I need to get drunk.”

“That's our cue to get this show on the road.” Mags said linking her fingers with Jenna’s.

Brittany grabbed everything Georgina had brought for her friends. “Thanks for this babe.”

“Yeah no worries. Are we meeting back at Mags?” She asked heading for her bag.

Mags nodded. “Whenever you're ready.”

“Brilliant. See you then.” Georgina said as her friends headed back to their own rooms.

She barely got a shower in when a knock came to her door. With a toothbrush in her mouth and a towel on her head, she answered it. Standing in a button up shirt and a nice pair of nice jeans was a very tired looking Niall Horan. His hair was freshly tousled and his cologne was doing its best to reel her in.

“Sorry, your kind isn't allowed round these parts.” She said dryly.

“Why's that?” He asked shoving his hands in his pockets.

Georgina shrugged. “Don't really like your face.”

Niall rolled his eyes and walked past her. She headed back into the bathroom to finish brushing her teeth.

“Why aren't you going down with the boys?” She asked before splashing water on her face.

“Just wanted a few minutes to myself.” He called back from the other room.

“But you aren't --” She mumbled into the towel she was using to dry herself.

“You know what I mean Ferg.” He sighed.

“You spent too much time with them already.” She called back as she plugged in her hair dryer.

“Kinda. Just needed some time to regroup after all the chaos of today.” He explained.

“Understandable.” She said throwing her wet towel on the floor. “Not gonna be able to hear you for a bit so don't say anything important.”

“Won’t profess me undying love for you, don't worry.” He mumbled dryly.

Georgina rolled her eyes as she ran a comb through her hair.

He was such a little shit.

As he waited to spend some time with the one girl he’d been missing the most, Niall laid down on her bed and closed his eyes. It wasn’t even ten o'clock yet and the pop star wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. The past week was finally catching up to him -- the anticipation of seeing his friends, the excitement of performing in front of that large of a crowd, the travel, the night of drinking the night before. It was all too much for the twenty-four year old.

He needed a recharge but he knew it wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

They were in Vegas after all.

They were in Vegas. He really couldn’t believe it. He had been waiting for this day since he left for tour. They were finally reunited, even if it was for a night. Just knowing Fergie was going to be in the same vicinity as him boosted morale.

Georgina had unfortunately missed his show in LA. He knew she tried her best to be there but as usual her job got in the way. He was disappointed but there was a small part of him that was relieved. The amount of pressure he had put on himself to be perfect was ridiculous. The amount of pressure he put on himself to be perfect for Georgina was even worse.

He wanted her to like him. He wanted her to like his performance, his songs, his stage persona. She had always been a tough critic. Unlike their friends, she’d tell him the truth no matter how much it hurt. In the industry he was in, he needed those type of people in his life.

When he heard the dryer turn off, he knew he had two options. He could get up and be proactive about finding out her opinion or he could wait for her to come to him. He chose the latter.

“Ni?” Georgina called from the bathroom. “Do you know what clubs we are going to?”

“Omnia, I think.” He said trying to remember if the girls had said something earlier. “Maybe XS.”

“Hopefully not Hakkasan.” She said quietly.

The corners up his lips turned up into a smile. “Why not?”

“Niall Horan, you know the answer to that!” She exclaimed.

“Fergie, everyone’s forgot about that.” He laughed. “No one even saw you fall.”

“Clearly, that’s a lie!” She said stepping out of the bathroom.

“I know it is.” He laughed.”But I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Alright Mr. Life of the Party.” Georgina teased. She smiled at the sight she saw. He was curled up in a ball ready to fall asleep.

“You like the flowers? I did some research and did you know that striped carnations--” He started to say.

Georgina quickly interjected. “Mean I miss you.”

“Of course you knew that.” He mumbled shyly.

“Thanks for not including a card.” She said sitting beside him on the bed. “Sherlock, Watson, and Agatha were havin’ a field day trying to figure out who they were from.”

A deep belly laugh escaped his lips as he opened his eyes, “Really?”

Georgina nodded. “I tried to make them feel bad by saying they sent them as a way to convince me to make out with you.”

“Why is the thought of us making out such a horrible idea?” He asked softly.

She shook her head before laying down beside him. His arm immediately pulled her closer.

“Us making out isn’t the issue.” She whispered. “It’s doing it in front of them.”

“We’d get shit for days.” He sighed kissing her forehead. “I know baby girl, I know.”

Georgina sighed nuzzing into his neck. “Let’s take a nap.”

“You’re supposed to be the disciplined one.” He whined.

“We can take twenty minutes.” She yawned. “Then you need to leave and go be a lad.”

“I want to be the old man of the group.” Niall yawned in return closing his eyes.

“You can’t. You’re the baby.” She said. “Speaking of, I got you a gift. You want it now?”

“There isn’t enough time for a nap and a blow job, love.” He deadpanned.

“Fine.” She grumbled in mock annoyance.

He peered out of one eye, “Wait, are you being serious?”

“You rejected my offer so the world will never know.” She smirked.

Niall leaned forward and placed his lips to hers, “You’re a brat Ferguson.”

She didn’t say anything. She just leaned in a little closer and kissed him.

This was the kiss that they had been waiting for. The kiss that had been building since the day that he left. The kiss that savored good morning snaps and good night texts. The kiss that had been on his mind all morning. The kiss that she had been wanting to give the moment she saw his face.The kiss that sent a shock through his entire body and woke him up.

He snaked his hand through her hair holding onto the back of her neck. The slow and intimate kiss turned into a few quick pecks as his lower lip got caught between her teeth. He took this as a sign. In one fell swoop, Georgina was on her back and his body was rested on top of hers.

The sexual frustration that had built up was finally being released. His hand made its way down to her hip. He held on tight. He was going to appreciate every inch of her body while he got the chance. As his lips worked against hers, she arched her back pressing herself against him.

It happened quickly. Flesh was bitten, a few moans escaped, and as soon as she felt his hardened member press against her, she knew it was on. Her hands slid down his midsection heading for his belt. It wasn’t until she got it undone that he pulled away.

“Ferg.” He panted. “We-we can’t.”

Georgina sighed. “I know.”

Niall nudged her nose with his own. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She mumbled into his lips. “Was fun while it lasted.”

He peeled himself off of her and rolled onto his back. A deep rooted sigh left his lips.

She patted his stomach gently. “Night’s still young kid.”

“Yeah but Jamie is going to want to get obliterated.” He said as she rested her head on his chest. “And that means it’ll be a no-go.”

“Just ‘cause they are doesn’t mean you have to.” She said looking up at him.

“Right.” He said sarcastically. “Like that’ll work.”

“Well I’m not going to drink that much.” She declared.

“Like that’s going to work, love.” He tickled her playfully.

“Stop.” She giggled. “Niall! Stop.”

He interlocked her fingers with his.

“I’m just gonna blame it on work.” Niall decided. “Which isn’t lying. I can’t drink that much.”

“Don't forget you owe me a drink from Fat Tuesday.” Georgina whispered.

“I know.” He kissed her forehead. “Maybe two.”

“Ooh, someone’s doin’ well for ‘imself.” She quipped in a posh accent.

He blushed. “Fuck off Georgina.”

“Niall Horan, I will deny this if you ever bring it up in front of anyone but I’ve missed this.” She admitted looking up at him. “A lot.”

“Missed what?” He asked.

“This.” She motioned towards the two of them. “The banter. Hangin’ with ya. Us.”

“So really you just missed making fun of me? That’s real great Ferg.” He rolled his eyes.

Georgina nuzzled into his neck. “Can you please say that again in your whiny voice?”

Niall squeezed her hand gently. “I think I hear Davey callin’ me.”

“Hey! Don't go.” Georgina pouted. “I was only joking.”

“Stop being so cute. It’s gonna make leaving even worse.” He sighed.

“No.” She said fiddling with one of his fingers. “Not allowed to talk about that yet.”

“Well what do you want to talk about then?” He yawned.

“The fact that you’re a bloody magician.” She said softly.

“How so?” He asked confused.

“You can go from Mr. Chill Irish Man Child who’s all about golf and Guinness and making your friends drive all the way to your house because you don’t want to ever leave it...” She said dryly.

He just laughed at her backhanded compliment.

“...to Mr. Charismatic Musician on stage. It’s quite impressive.” Georgina admitted.

“Trust me it’s taken years of practice.” Niall said.

“Well it shows.” She said running her fingers around one of the buttons.

The room got quiet. Niall ran through different ways of asking the same question. He didn’t know how to approach it. Lucky for him, Georgina already had the answer he was looking for.

“So you know that I liked when you were in the band. Those guys were great -- especially Louis.” Georgina paused. “But I like you by yourself so much better.”

His skin grew warm. “Really?”

“Yeah, it just... fits you so much more.” She explained. “It’s so you.”

“Ye-yeah?” He stuttered before clearing his throat. “You think so?”

“You were worried for nothing. I was thoroughly impressed.” She whispered making his cheeks turn pink. “The song from Aruba is even better live, in case you were wondering.”

“Thank you.” He smiled. “That means a lot.”

The room grew quiet. Niall revelled in the fact that she actually enjoyed the show he put on. She liked his show. She liked his music. She liked him. That made all the pressure he had put on himself to be perfect worth it.

“So um what are you gonna do with those rugs when tours over?” She asked trying to be as casual as possible.

“Nice try, weirdo.” Niall laughed knowing where she was going.

“What the fuck? First it’s the chair in Aruba and now the rugs, why can’t you let me have nice things?” She whined playfully.

“If I let you have those things, then how will I get you to come over to my place? I know the chair is a prime selling point for all friend functions at my house.” He said softly.

“Hmm...you do have a point.” She said in a teasing tone.

“That's just plain rude.” Niall flicked her shoulder.

“You've got Scout and I've grown accustom to watching Project Runway in that theater of yours.” She said with a smile. “So I think you can give up the chair already.”

“Speaking of Scout, how's the ol’ girl?” Niall asked interested.

“She’s fabulous. She's spending the night at Keith’s. His roommate Phil is watching her.” Georgina explained. “She's really loving puppy school. Bit of a class clown -- just like Dad.”

“How are my other children?” He asked nervously.

“Everything but the bougainvillea is dead.” She said with a voice full of sorrow.

Niall wasn't buying it. He let got of her hand quickly, “You are shit at lying.”

“Fine.” She sighed. “They are all alive and accounted for.”

“Your mum was right about you.” He mumbled as he took a strand of her hair between his fingers.

“What was she right about?” She asked glaring at him.

“You're a major pain in the arse.” Niall explained.

“I don't like the fact that you hung out with my mum in London.” She said embarrassed. “It's not very fair -- you two ganging up on me ‘n that.”

“S’been four years of absolute shit from you. I needed to bring in reinforcements.” Niall said.

“She thinks you two are proper mates.” She looked up at him. “Every conversation after the London show has ended with ‘our boy Niall.’ She always has remind me to remind you to take your vitamins and get your rest. You might be young but sleep is important.”

“I love Mama Ferguson.” Niall smiled.

“She really appreciated you inviting her. As cringey as this might be, Slow Hands is her favorite song now.” She said shyly.

“A lot of the older ones like that song.” Niall blushed.

“Fit young boy singing about sex...hmm I wonder why they would like it.” She said dryly.

“Didn't ask for that sass, Ferg.” He mumbled.

Georgina sat up slowly, “My deepest apologies.”

His phone started to ring in his pocket. Georgina knew what it meant. She got up off the bed and headed for her bag. Niall answered the call and quietly talked to Dave about where to meet.

“I'll be down in five.” He said as he watched her walk towards him with a gift in her hand.

“Don’t read the card while I’m in the room. I was a little bit buzzed while I wrote it so I’m sorry if it doesn’t make any sense.” She blushed handing him his present.

“You know you didn’t have to get me anything.” Niall said holding onto the bag.

Georgina just rolled her eyes and motioned with her hand to open it.

His eyes lit up as he pulled out a massive book. It was an encyclopedia of every plant species in existence. He skimmed through it and couldn’t believe his eyes. Color photographs and paragraphs of information of plants from all around the globe covered the pages.

“It’s the latest version. I figured it’d be something fun to read on the road.” She said shyly.

“This is amazing Fergie.” He said glancing up at her.

“I saw it and thought of you.” She said tucking some hair behind her ear.

“I absolutely love it.” Niall said standing up. He kissed her. “I really, really do.”

“Good.” She smiled. “What’d Davey say?”

“They are going to go play a game of poker and they want me to join.” He sighed.

Georgina nodded. “I need to get ready anyways.”

“Want me to open this now?” He asked reaching for the card.

“Up to you.” She said before nodding towards the bathroom. “I’ll be in there.”

Niall sat back down on the bed as she walked into the bathroom. He slowly opened the orange envelope and pulled out a card. A birthday pun covered the front. As he read what she wrote on the inside, his eyes got a bit glassy. The words that she wrote were the words he needed to hear.

Niall always felt bad when he had to leave his friends for tour. But this time around was the first time he actually felt guilty for it. The day he left Los Angeles was probably one of the worst days he has ever had. The look on her face as he left her flat was etched in his memory. It always found a way to make an appearance on the nights he felt the most alone.

He felt so bad for leaving her. She was just discovering her feelings for him. She was finally allowing herself to open up and be vulnerable. She was finally letting him in and he just left. Niall didn’t want her to resent him for leaving. He didn’t need Fergie regretting her decision.

The words that she wrote made everything okay. He didn’t need to hold her hand through this. She was doing fine on her own.

He read the paragraph once more trying to soak up everything she had said. He deserved to be happy. He deserved to be touring the world doing something he loved. He didn’t need to worry because she was going to be there for him when he got home. This small sign of reassurance had refilled his tank and he knew the next couple months were going to be just fine.

He got off the bed and walked into the bathroom. She had a curling iron attached to her hair. Noticing his presence, she let the strand of hair fall. Turning towards him, she noticed his baby blue eyes were a bit shiny. Before she could ask what was wrong, the young man engulfed her in a hug. He didn’t say a single word. He just held her tight.

This was the hug she had needed since the day he left. The hug that told her everything was going to be alright. The hug that was more important than sex or making out or holding hands. The hug that meant they were going to make it through the next few months unscathed. The hug that showed how he really felt. The hug that was going to hold them together until they were reunited again.

“I know if this goes further, it’s not going to be easy.” He whispered in her ear. “My job, your job, our friends, the public… but just trust me when I say this... it’s going to be worth it.”

“I know.” She whispered back. “I’m ready for it.”

#1dff #niall horan fanfiction #pf #fergie and niall

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