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ssplague · 3 years

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Chapter 0ne

“And so it begins”

Katsuki B. X Reader

Rated M

Warnings: Gaslighting, manipulation, power play, light degradation

The day before the two of you left for UA; Your best friend gave her word to your mother that she would always look after you. Now that the two of you are in your third year she’s officially FED UP with your attitude and childish antics. Mentioning her dilemma to your shared group of friends results in the most unlikely person offering to be her solution to the problem that is YOU.

A/N: The girl in the banner is NOT how the reader is “supposed” to look, it was just a drawing I did specifically for this. You look however you want to, I don’t really make any specific references to your appearance in this story.

🌅

Its Saturday morning; Ive been awake for about five minutes now, but I’m not ready to open my eyes and embrace the conscious world just yet. Hearing the door of my room unlock and open does the trick though. Only one person (other than myself of course) has a key to my dorm room.

“I made breakfast for the both of us, its your favorite” announces Euphie as she walks in, kicking the door shut behind her. I sit up, just as she’s pushing my black out curtains to the side I let out a hiss of disdain as sunlight immediately begins to permeate the room.

“Thank you Euphie” I say with a yawn.

She hands me a plate before settling down on my bed, acknowledging my thanks with a nod as we both tuck in.

“We have plans this afternoon, can you be ready by at least 12:30? No need to get super made up but at least out of your pajamas?” Euphies voice is gentle, but I catch the underlying “I’m not asking, but telling you” vibe she tries to hide.

“For sure”

She smiles at my seemingly agreeable mood so early in the morning and we easily segway into our standard start of the day discussions. “Are we um…Are we going to be busy all day? I….I kinda planned on going to hangout with-“ Euphie cuts me off as she picks up our plates: “No worries you’ll have plenty of time for that, I promise!” Giving me a wink before shutting my door.

She didn’t even know who I was referring to, or what I was going to say….

At 12:55 Euphie reappears to rush me out of my room.

“Hey I forgot my purse I-“

“Don’t need it”

“But my wallet is-“

“Not necessary”

Her tone is clipped, and she has a death grip on my wrist as she quite literally drags me down the hallway. Initially I was taken aback, not being used to receiving this type of treatment from her. My bearings have started returning along with growing frustration each time one of my questions are receiving one word answers, or met with a complete dismissal. Reaching my limit I fail to notice that she’d began to slow down, and I’m wrenching my wrist free of her grip at the exact same time she’d come to a stop.

“What in the fuck is your problem?! You told me that we had plans to go out this afternoon, and you’d treat me to whatever I want!

This-“ I’m interrupted again.

“I certainly wouldn’t do anything for a fuckin’ brat throwing a tantrum like this”

My eyes snap to the side where I see the irritated scowl of one Katsuki Bakugou, as he leans against his door frame glowering at me. Embarrassment further fuels my anger as I turn toward him, pointing an acusatory finger as I begin “No one fucking asked you, stay out of it Katsu-“.

Kirishima suddenly emerges from Bakugo’s room, giving Euphie an enthusastic greeting

“Hey there! You look nice, ready to head out?”. The red head is flashing his signature shark toothed grip at my best friend as he offers her his arm. “You know it” she giggles, taking hold of his muscular bicep. The two of them start to walk off, confused and furious I start to head after them, but a large hand grips my shoulder grounding me in place.

“Bakugo told me he wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on you while Kiri and I went out this afternoon, this way you’ll stay out of trouble and get to keep the plans you’d made with him, bye!” The closing elevator doors add a sudden finalization to her brief explanation.

“Plans?” Bakugo questions while uncermoniously yanking me backwards.

I stumble back, falling through the doorway and landing flat on my ass in front of the now closed door (Which he is standing in front of). Glaring up at him as he continues: “She must have me confused with the local brothel, because thats the only place I’d imagine wearing a skirt as short as that would be deemed appropriate”. His insult doesn’t deter his crimson eyes from roaming the length of my body, lingering on the aforementioned skirt. Getting to my feet, he walks around me and move towards his desk, taking a seat behind it.

“Oh fuck you Katsuki, you can be a real dick sometimes, I dunno what stupid Euphie told you about keeping and eye on me, but I dont need a fucking baby sitter! So ill be off now” with a huff you turn towards the door. “________, I’m not in the mood for bullshit today so just sit down and shut up” he growls, not turning to look at you. He always feels embarrassingly giddy when you adress him by his first name, thats why he insisted you call him by it. That in itself should be an indication of how he seems to favor you.

It makes him almost feel a bit guilty for using a harsh tone when he’d spoken to you. Despite how he treats others, Katsuki is hardly ever outright mean to you; He’s never even given you a derogatory nickname like he has for everyone else. Today’s an off day though…He’s just not used to running on little to no sleep. That paired with his already non existent level of patience makes for a blow up. Especially when YOU were the cause of his latest bout of insomnia….turning to look at you has his thoughts beginning to wander.

Those lips of yours flapping away as you berate him…

They sure would look a helluva lot better wrapped around his-

“-Not even fucking listening to me are you?!” You snarl, starting towards the door again. “I cant believe I woke up this morning wanting to hangout with YOU, guess I’ll change my plans and hangout with someone not so shitty to me…. Like Deku!” A loud crash comes from behind you. The now enraged man had stood up so abruptly, it sent his now vacated chair careening into the wall and toppling over.

“You really just cant help yourself can you?”

His voice is so eerily quiet as he turns to face you, something unidentifiable flashes in his rapidly darkening crimson orbs. You couldn’t exactly identify it, considering it disappeared as abruptly as it had originally came.

“Course you cant, I already know that”

A menacing smile appears on his face as he takes his first step toward you, immediately triggering your natural “Fight or flight” response.

“I know what you need”

He’s only an arms length away when you start to step back.

“You dont know shit”

You somehow summon the courage to speak, but are unable to summon any false bravado to keep you from betraying how unnerved he’s got you feeling as he takes another step.

“I know that your best friend cant stand what a spoiled fuckin’ brat you’ve become, I know she’s so fed up with your shit that she’s about to write you off completely”

The defiant expression you’d worn all this time finally starts to falter.

This marks the first time Katsuki has ever seen how you look when your confidence begins to ebb away, only to be replaced with a mixture of uncertainty and fear.

His sadistic side emerges with glee as your now saddened doe eyes meet his.

“You’re constantly disregarding everyone’s opinion of you unless it aligns with your own, but you dont even know what to think of yourself now that your faced with the possibility of being alone now…do you?

You remain silent, taking yet another step back as he continues speaking.

“You need someone who isn’t afraid to correct you, but they’ll have to of earned your respect….So when you inevitably step out of line, you wont put up a fight when you get put over their knee”

Your back hits the wall.

You swallow down the panic that slowly begun to rise from your chest up into your throat as you realize there is nowhere left for you to go.

“You desperately want to be a good girl, just dont know how to be one, huh princess?”

It’s so adorable the way your bottom lip juts out, but at the first quiver it quickly gets sucked between your teeth.

“That’s why you’re acting out right now isn’t it?

I bet you drench your cute little panties every time you get a rise out of me. Always hoping that its going to be the time I yank you the fuck up and put this brat in her goddamn place, hah?”

You shamelessly lean into the large hand thats now cupping your cheek, letting out a sigh as his thumb caresses your soft skin.

“Mhmmm”

It’s horrifying how easily you just admitted your most guarded secret! The triumphant smirk he sports makes it even harder to accept.

His tone is surprisingly gentle when he starts addressing you once again;

“I can do that for you baby….Let me be the one that finally brings the princess down on her knees”.

Your eyes are practically sparkling at the feel of a sudden pressure being applied to your throat. His calloused fingers squeezing the delicate skin of your neck, effectively making it harder and harder for you to breathe. The thrill of this foreign feeling is instantly addicting.

“Tell me if thats what you want: If its not then shake your head and we never speak of this again”

Bakugo has to at least give the illusion that you have a choice in the matter. Even though its more than obvious that you need want this just as much as he does.

“I want it, I want you” your words come out in a breathy whisper as he releases his hold on your throat.

“I wanna hear you say it princess, what do you want me to do with you”

“I want…no I NEED you to….t-to make me into your good girl please…”

He gestures for you to continue, his raised brow implying you must be forgetting something.

“Please make me into your good girl….Daddy”

The pleading expression and twinge of desperation in your voice stirs something deep inside Bakugo. It was something akin to the last vestiges of some ancient seal had disappeared: The monster that it had rendered dormant had finally roused from its slumber, intent on wreaking havoc.

“You do understand that you’re mine now right ________? Every part of your being belongs solely to me”

Gorgeous ruby eyes scrutinize your face carefully, searching for a single trace of fear, uncertainty, or possible apprehension. All they found was admiration and girlish excitement, and this earned you a genuine smile from the almost always scowling young man.

“Yes, every part of me belongs to you now Katsuki”

“Better get used to this then”

Before you could inquire what he was referring to, he was kissing you.

❤️‍🔥

A/N: So concludes chapter one

Oh god I hope this is well received.

Should I get a tag list together? Is it too soon? If anyone would be interested leave a comment. SMUT in the next chapter, we’re moving faster here because let’s be honest; Smut is what all of us want! 💦

#katsuki bakugo #bnha #daddy bakugou #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #husbando #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #tw daddy kink #tw gaslighting #bakuhoes #Plaguescorrection

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lizzy-williams · 4 years

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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭

🐺Warnings: Alpha/Omega dynamic, SMUTTTT, neediness, language, mature themes, dubcon?

🐺Masterlist

🐺Summary: Every Omega knows that going into heat is rough, especially when unclaimed. All eyes are on you. So when it hits you in the middle of a coffee shop with your friends, a particular alpha is very willing to help.

🐺Theme (All I Need by Radiohead)

🐺A/N: Lol we gonna get dirtttyyyy. By the way, you’re small in his, like body proportion wise, like 5′4 small so there’s that. I know people want the ‘independent strong hardheaded alpha female’, but in this one ur compliant, sorry if ya don’t like it. There will most likely be a part 2 :)

“Y’know, I dunno how you drink that stuff,” Anna-Lynn said from across the table, making [ y / n ] roll her eyes and look up.

“You’re just jealous cause your tastebuds are weak,” she retorted, taking a teasingly long sip of her dark black coffee.

It was nice having a day out like this. Especially when everyone seemed so busy with preparing for the spookiest holiday of the year. Paper bats and small pumpkins littered the store-fronts of London, the summer weather fading with the light chilly breezes autumn seemingly brought.

The calm warm light streamed through the window of the coffee shop the three young women were in, the dusk just hitting them. The tree leaves complimented the light as it covered the area in a soft blanket of pink and orange hues.

“So, um,” [ y / n ]’s other friend, Elizabeth, began to speak, clearing her throat and shooting a daring look at Anna-Lynn, “Have you thought about Ethan at all?”

Ah, yes, Ethan. He was Elizabeth’s younger cousin, just then turning 19, a simple beta with no claimed mate.

[ y / n ] shook her head, and to this, the two girls let out a defeated huff, “You need to chose someone,” Anna-Lynn’s voice was clipped as she huffed, but it had a hint of concern. Worry even.

And of course there was a stipulation to one of [ y / n ]’s favorite seasons. Because for her kind, not only was it autumn, but it was also mating season. A dangerous time for any omega unclaimed. If you were unclaimed when the time came around, you were easy pray, and other alphas and betas could smell you much much easier.

You would become a target. Even more so if you were in heat.

“I’m not worried about it.” [ y / n ] sighed, nonchalantly, taking a large gulp of her drink before setting it back down. But deep down she truly was.

“We just don’t want you to become like one of those other omegas... you know, getting claimed by someone on the street during their heat... someone they don’t love at all and being forced to have pups, it’s just barbaric.” Elizabeth glanced down at her dwindling hands.

“I understand that. But I’ve had no issues with this before. I’ll just... lock myself up in my room with a vibrator and some porn. That’s worked before,”

“Bullshit, you were a grump for like a month because you had built up aggression. Ethan’s a good guy. You should really consider it.”

Yes, Ethan was nice. But when it came to [ y / n ]... she just felt as if they weren’t meant for each other. And there was no way that she would consider having pups with him and-

Speak of the mother fucking devil-

It was as if she was hit with a million bricks at once, her body becoming hot, a powerful wave of uncomfortable warmth crashing through her body like a tidal wave, her mouth clamping shut tightly. Her breath hitched, her thighs tightening around nothing, her legs shaking as she felt herself feel as if she were going to throw up. The moisture between her thighs was uncomfortable as she felt her panties stick to her mound.

How could she be so careless? Now she was in heat in public and she knew that nearby alphas and betas had already caught onto the scent, most likely heading their way. She knew it was roughly the time she would go into heat. And it was hell on earth right now, knowing that now that the sun was just now taking it’s last breaths over the tall buildings, the night heightening her kind’s senses acutely.

Her friends caught on almost immediately, knowing the mannerisms of the heavy breathing and the quivering lips. Her eyes were wide as she bit down on her bottom lip harshly, trying her best to keep her whimpers and whines in the back of her throat.

Thoughts raced through the young woman’s mind. Thoughts of her being taken in the most delicious ways possible by any man that just so happened to look her way. And her friends could tell that there were already at least a few alphas coming in hot, the sudden howling through the now darkened air making the 2 other girls’ senses hyperactive.

What was ironic was that there was a conversation going on between two baristas behind the counter, “The dogs are at it again, they’ve been a lot noisier than usual.”

“We need to get her home, right now.” Anna-Lynn commanded, Elizabeth giving a chaste nod before flipping through her phone as a poor, squirming, [ y / n ] sat right across from them, panting in her intense discomfort.

She shut her eyes tightly, desperately trying to ignore the ache in her core. She wanted, no, needed to be filled up. To be claimed. But the thoughts only drove her down deeper, desperation seemingly seeping out of every pore.

As soon as she was called an Uber, it was an agonizing amount of time before it finally came to a stop, the driver flashing concerned looks at the poor squirming girl in her back seat. Throughout the whole ride, it took everything for [ y / n ] not to touch herself, and all she could do was shift her thighs together, and thankfully, (soon enough), the car came to a stop.

[ y / n ] let out a strangled ‘thank you’ to the driver before getting out, and after the woman drove off, she found herself stumbling into an alleyway. Her whole body was on fire and she needed release, any release.

Her back violently hit the brick wall of a darkened alleyway, her loud and labored breaths echoing through the seemingly empty face. She needed tension. At least a little bit.

As if her legs weren’t her own, [ y / n ] spread her legs only a small amount, just enough to slip her hand under her pants and softly drifting her fingertips over her clothed clit.

A smooth and controlled rubs soon turned into harsh and fast circles, her needful thoughts forcing her mind to tune out the howling that was getting closer and closer to her. It wasn’t until a low and terrifying growl resonated through the hollow space, making her stop in her tracks, yanking her hand out of its position, doing her best to stand up and steady herself.

But it was far too late, because by the time she finally started bolting towards the opening in the cold alleyway, her body was caught and thrown against the frigid brick, a pitiful yelp leaving her lips, unleashed tears forming in her eyes.

“You smell fucking delicious,” a dark voice spoke, no doubt an alpha, and [ y / n ] wouldn’t dare look up and meet his eyes.

“P-Please, I c-can’t-”

[ y / n ] didn’t even know why she was saying please, for there were so many reasons she could be saying it.

Please don’t.

Please help the pain.

Please touch me.

Please don’t touch me.

Please.

But the young woman’s thoughts were cut short by a violent tug to her hair, forcing her gaze on the person in from of her. He had bright red hair, freckles apparent, even in the dull light of the closed off space. He wore a jet black hoodie, and that was all that [ y / n ] bothered to take in.

“You’re a pretty one...” his words rattled through her mind, muffled by the sharp ringing in her heat from the sudden contact to the wall only moments earlier, “Glad I claimed you before anyone else could,” he paused to chuckle to himself, “Would hate to touch damaged goods.”

[ y / n ] whimpered and almost recoiled away, but she knew better. This alpha seemed ill-tempered, and she didn’t want to find out what would happen if she dared to disobey.

He gave a rough tug to her hair, standing her up, and immediately started to kiss her neck in hopes of warming her up a little bit more, not that she needed it, but nonetheless, his lips continued their assault on the young woman’s neck, whimpers and whines escaping her lips.

“Just one little thing, pretty girl, you’re unclaimed, I can smell it on you.” he spoke before leaving a long, sinful lick up her throat, “I’m going to bite this pretty little neck and make sure that nobody else is going to touch what’s mine.”

The girl’s body shivered violently. He was talking about a claim mark. If that happened, she could never escape him, it was a tracking device. Where ever she decided to go, he would know exactly where she was.

“Please, don’t, I-”

But a violent growl made her blood run cold and her words pause half-way up her throat. But it wasn’t from her captor. His head was already snapped towards the source of the sound, which was at the opening of the alleyway, the minimal light caused by the streetlight exposing a clothed figure with its hands in its pockets. They weren’t tall but they weren’t short, but their stature was confident.

Great. Another alpha.

“Drop her.” the voice spoke, straight to the point and commanding.

“Fuck off, she’s mine, I got to her first.” the ginger male snapped, his eyes now a vibrant scorching gold, shining in the darkness.

“Drop the fucking girl or I’ll rip you’re fucking head off.” this time it was a vicious growl, strong and unwavering that sent goosebumps down [ y / n ]’s spine.

“That a challenge, pint-size?” the ginger taunted, referring to the other alpha who only stood at a good 5′8, while he stood at a large 6′1, slamming the girl onto the ground making her yelp out in pain.

Finally, the young alpha stepped into some form of light, making his face visible, and the ginger’s expression of defense faded into a face of fear and regret, the eyes that once glowed yellow dying down to it’s original color.

“T-Tom, Jesus, man, excuse me, I didn’t-”

The alpha, apparently named Tom, harshly grabbed the ginger’s shirt, pulling him in and looking up at him with deadly eyes, “Leave.”

And just like that, he was gone, and hopefully never going to be seen again.

Tom’s expression turned soft when he saw the poor writhing omega in a mound on the hard concrete of the ground, small whimpers of discomfort making his chest clench.

“You live here?” he questioned, motioning to the building she was now leaned against.

All she could to was let out a whine of confirmation, nodding her head slowly as she clamped her thighs together as tightly as possible.

“Come on then, can’t have you out in the open, there’s already talk, let’s get you inside,” he said, kindness and understanding in his tone, holding out a hand to [ y / n ], who in turn took it almost immediately.

It took her a second to walk, her knees weak, not to mention it was hard not to notice Tom’s muscles, and his face. God, he was truly attractive.

She let her mind wonder as they began to walk, his arm firmly around her waist, trying to keep her steady. She wondered what it would look like when he came, filling her up to the brim, making her full, a thin blanket of sweat covering his body, his eyes glowing, hungry, and she let out a whimper at it.

“You’re staring.” Tom smirked as they stepped into the elevator of the complex.

“S-Sorry,” she muttered, trying to shake the embarrassingly dirty thoughts from her mind as she continued to try and focus on just getting to her apartment.

The sooner she got there, the sooner she had her vibrator, the sooner she had release. She was convinced, at least, that that would solve her problems, at least temporarily.

She led him to her apartment, still holding onto him for dear life as her core throbbed with need and want. When the door unlocked with a small click, she turned the doorknob, almost collapsing through the doorway.

“Do you need any help?”

This could have meant many things. But of course, [ y / n ] was oblivious in her response.

“N-No, I think I can manage to put myself to bed.”

Tom gave a small chuckle as he sat her down on the couch, sitting next to her as she slouched back, “No, I mean I can help with your problem... that is, if you want me to,”

[ y / n ]’s mind was clouded in a haze of neediness, so with no hesitation, she whimpered a small yes, before immediately unbuttoning her jeans and slipping them down a little bit to eagerly.

She knew this was happening to quick, almost irrationally quick, but the need in her pounding cunt was much more important to her at the moment than her petty morals and reason.

“Are you sure?” he looked at her with sincerity, watching as she shifted out of her pants and took his hand, placing it on her covered mound.

“Please, just touch me, Tom,”

Hearing his name on her lips was almost enough to make him lose his control and say ‘fuck it’, but he figured that if her were to do this, he might as well try to do this right.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, darling,” he muttered, easily finding her sensitive bud, even through the material of her panties.

She let out a soft and breathy moan, taking her hand of his own and moving it to his bicep, squeezing, as if it were anchoring her down to Earth, because she had never been touched like this, especially by someone else.

As if Tom had read her mind, he looked up at her, drinking in her reactions before speaking, “Are you a virgin?”

She nodded her head, his pace never faltering.

“I’ve been waiting- ugnh - for the right person... I trust you,” she managed to get out between moans.

“You barely know me,”

“But I want to. There’s - ah, fuck - something about you. I l-like you,” she admitted, the filter between her mouth and her brain nonexistent as she felt nothing but pleasure and a release from the uncomfortable pressure she was feeling only moments before.

“Fuck,” to Tom, it was nice to hear that somebody needed him, trusted him, especially with something like this, so sacred and meaningful. She was giving him the gift that could only be given once, and he was happy to receive.

After a few moments of him rubbing her in all the right ways, he hesitantly pulled his hand away from her, hating the noise of protest that she released.

“Come on, princess, let’s take this to you're bedroom, yeah?”

[ y / n ] was compliant to his suggestion, standing up best she could without Tom’s help, but soon leaning on him as she directed him to her bedroom door.

The door was busted open, and she was thrown onto the bed, and as soon as she hit the mattress, she stripped off everything else, leaving her completely nude, and her actions inspired Tom to do the same.

He quickly got on top of her, grinding the length of his cock against her soaking wet folds, making him growl.

“Fuck, darling, I’m not even inside you yet and you feel heavenly-” he hissed, the little omega nodding in response.

“Alpha, please, I need you inside me, I want you to fill me,” she desperately pleaded.

Tom let out a feral snarl at the use of the word ‘alpha’, surprised it had so much of an effect on him being used like this. It was so fucking hot. She had him wrapped so tightly around her pinky and didn’t even know it.

“Anything for you, darling,” he muttered, lining himself up and ever so slowly easing himself inside his new mate, a pained whimper escaping her, his cock seemingly splitting her in half.

Tom finally remembered that she was a virgin. And that made him even harder inside her. He waited for him, for her mate, while he was out fucking every omega that crossed him. But with her, she wasn’t just an omega. And he wanted to prove it to her.

He took his time, almost cockwarming, staying still inside of her as her body naturally adjusted to his size, feeling so close to each other, it was enough for the two of them to almost fall in love right then and there. Tom finally took in how perfect she was to him. Someone he knew he wanted to keep around in the long run. Someone he knew he wanted to protect, even when she didn’t need protection.

[ y / n ] scratched up his back, signaling that she was ready, and confident that he could move with little to no discomfort from her.

The alpha started to move his hips, her tight cunt making his eyes roll back in his skull as he dropped his head into the crook of her neck, leaving soft and reassuring kisses to her neck as she made the most delectable noises, making him addicted, almost like his own brand of opioid.

“So fucking tight, princess, you feel like fucking paradise,” he praised as he drank up the omega’s reactions as she experienced her first time with him.

She’s like this for me and only me.

Her face was scrunched adorably in pleasure, her eyes shut tight as she felt the moment, his skin under her finger tips, the burning that was set in her core easing as she finally had pleasurable relief. Like getting a refreshing drink on a particularly hot day.

Tom couldn’t help himself, and as if his body wasn’t his own, primal instinct took over as he began to make his strides harder and quicker, making the most pathetically cute noises release from her mouth.

“You like that, darling?” he panted licking and sucking her neck, making one of her tiny hands weaving itself though his chestnut curls, “Why did I bother asking, of course you do. You love it when your alpha fucks you.”

All she could do was nod her head as she felt a coil inside her tighten. Tom felt his cock inflate as he continued to drive into her, pounding her into the mattress as he growled praises into her neck, her moans and whimpers never stopping.

Soon the praise turned into a single word, falling out of his mouth like a prayer, even though what they were doing was the farthest thing from holy.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

The omega could take it anymore, whimpering out, “P-Please, I... want you to b-bite me. Please, I need you to claim me,” she begged, which made his assault on her cunt falter slightly, slowing down to a calm and intimate pace.

He knew what that meant. When an alpha bites an omega, she’s claimed. It means that nobody can touch her. Almost like an unbroken bond between two of their kind, and it meant a lot.

And though they had just met only a half an hour prior, he knew that she was special, and he knew that this was who he was meant to be with, and his heart swelled at the thought of getting to know her inside and out. A true connection.

“You want me to claim you, huh?” he paused his movements, [ y / n ] nodding frantically, wanting more than anything, “I’m not going to go easy on you. I want you to feel nothing but you inside me while I claim you, nothing but rapture as I claim you as mine.”

[ y / n ] nodded once again, to while Tom protested, “Words, darling,”

“Yes, alpha, I understand, I- OH FUCK-,” she yelled out. And she thought he was going hard before, but that was nothing compared to the pleasure she was now presented with, his cock properly railing into her as he left a long and sinful lick up her neck before taking a bite, his eyes glowing a bright fluorescent gold as she let out one of the most pornographic moans she had ever heard.

The copper taste in his mouth tasted like candy, and home, the sweet substance covering his lips as he finally pulled back, knowing that she was close.

And close she was. She was so close to release she could almost taste it, and god did it taste good. Without warning, the coil inside her snapped, making her vision cloud, her thoughts unable to collect themselves as her vision clouded, and she swore she blacked out for a second.

She was so overcome with pleasure, she didn’t notice that he had cum himself, the sensation of him pulling out and his cum spill out of her enough to get her riled up enough. But if what just happened didn’t vanquish the heat she was experiencing before, God only knew what would.

Tom stepped back, taking in the sight of his new mate, completely fucked out and covered with marks, his cum dripping out of her like a faucet. He wished for this image to be branded into his mind so he could see it every time he closed his eyes.

“Absolutely stunning.” he praised, his hands now running up and down her thighs.

[ y / n ] was finally Tom’s, inside and out, and Tom couldn’t be more proud.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, love, yeah?”

The morning was soft and filled with nothing but admiration to each other, the two staying in bed most of the morning until they finally went to the omega’s kitchen to make breakfast/lunch.

[ y / n ] was cooking the bacon and eggs when she suddenly felt arms wrap around her from behind, a chin resting on her shoulder.

“How’re you holding up?” he questioned, and it make [ y / n ] blush at how considerate she was about her state, his fingertips dragging lightly over the violent-looking bite mark on her neck.

“I’m absolutely perfect,” she smiled, “Feels nice to belong to someone.”

“You know what? I was thinking the exact same thing.”

And for once, the two of them were truly excited for the future.

#werewolf au #alpha #omega #alpha!tom #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #marvel x reader

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out-of-control · 2 years

Text

NEW

words: 1055

warnings: none

summary: Their second new years together.

They don’t go out for New Year’s. Instead, they curl up on the couch together under a thick blanket, Jax’s laptop propped up on Jim’s knee, and shoot the shit as they watch a livestream of the Times Square festivities.

Jax can’t remember the last New Year’s Eve he spent sober. He must have been in middle school. It’s strange, to be at home, lucid on his couch instead of loitering around some stranger’s house, trying to get as loaded as possible before the ball drops. He casts about for Jim’s hand beneath the blanket, and squeezes.

Midnight rolls around. They watch the bedazzled globe descend, tiny and bright on the laptop screen. As soon as it hits the roof of One Times Square, Jax turns his head to the side and kisses Jim. Jim kisses back easily, and Jax smiles faintly against his lips. They break apart. Jax feels so warm beneath the blanket, with Jim pressed up against his side. In Times Square, “Auld Lang Syne” has begun to play.

“Hey, c’mere,” Jax says quietly, setting the laptop down and standing up off the couch. Jim follows suit. Jax steps in close and positions them so that their hands are clasped together, Jax’s arm wrapped around Jim’s back.

It’s not so much a dance as it is a sway, but as the strains of music struggle through the tinny speakers on Jax’s laptop, he thinks it might still be his nicest New Year’s Eve yet. “Auld Lang Syne” transitions into “New York, New York.” Jax tucks his forehead against Jim’s shoulder and holds him a little tighter.

“I’ll make a brand new start of it,” Sinatra croons from the laptop. “In old New York.” A couple letters and about ten miles off, Jax thinks, but close enough.

He lifts his head, kisses Jim on the cheek, then steps away, to the kitchen. Jim follows him, watches as Jax retrieves the Martinelli’s from the fridge and pours them a couple of sparkling ciders. “Clink me, man,” Jax says with a slight grin, holding out his glass.

Jim returns his grin and picks up his glass. He hesitates a moment, probably trying to think of something poetic to mark the occasion, but decides to go with: “To not having miserable sex in a stranger’s bathroom,” and clinks their glasses together.

Jax snorts and takes a drink. “Cheers. Now we can have miserable sex in our bathroom.”

“Nah, we already did that this last year, too,” Jim muses into his drink, and takes another sip.

Jax makes a face. “Fair. Maybe we try for sex that isn’t miserable?”

Jim gives him a solemn nod and chuckles a little. “Now that’s a resolution I can get behind.”

Jax grins and grabs Jim by the collar of his shirt, gently pulling him into a kiss, just because he wants to. “Happy New Year, baby,” he says, and releases Jim. “You got any real resolutions?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“Happy New Year, sweetheart,” Jim returns easily, and shrugs. “I dunno, It’s kinda cheating to go with stop being so goddamn mentally ill when I put that one in motion like a month ago,” he squints, considering. “Maybe smoke more. I’ve got enough on my plate already,” he decides. “You?”

Jax leans back against the counter, cradling his sparkling cider. “I don’t know, I– I was kind of talking to Alice the other day.” He sips his drink, then scratches the back of his neck. “About, maybe, like. Seeing if she can help hook me up with a shrink.”

A smile spreads its way across Jim’s face, bright and toothy and genuine. “No shit?” he asks, and presses a sweet kiss to Jax’s cheek. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jax says, feeling awkward. “They’ll probably just tell me it’s all because of my childhood or some bullshit like that. But,” he sighs, curls his spine a little. “Dunno. Figured I’d give it a shot.” He traces the rim of the glass with a finger. “It’s been a rough year.”

“Yeah,” Jim says softly, looking pensive. “Well, turns out, rambling on about your problems to a stranger doesn’t kill you, and actually makes you kinda feel better about it. Speaking from my extremely seasoned experience of about a month.” He gently brushes a knuckle on the back of Jax’s hand and gives him another kiss, on the lips this time. “Not much to lose trying it out.”

Jax slings his free arm around the small of Jim’s back, holding him close. Jim’s quiet reassurance curls around his ears, seeps into his brain. “Yeah, well. Guess that’s my resolution, then.”

Jim rests the side of his head on Jax’s shoulder, putting a hand on Jax’s bicep and squeezing a little. “I’m proud of you, you know that?”

Jax blows a puff of air onto Jim’s ear. “I know that,” he says, aiming for the verbal equivalent of an eyeroll but not quite making it. “I know that,” he repeats to himself, quieter. Very few people are ever proud of Jax, and even fewer actually say so.

“Yeah, well,” Jim picks his head up and gives Jax a third kiss, really hammering it home. “I’m proud of you.” he says, to his face this time. Jax closes his eyes briefly, feels Jim’s thumb stroking on his arm. Suddenly he’s overcome by how fiercely he loves Jim, how much Jim loves him back, how terribly he wants to be the kind of man who’s worthy of that kind of love. Maybe this will be what puts him on that path.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, then: “Hey, since I’m a square now. Think I’m gonna head to bed soon.”

Jim snorts and sips his drink. “Well, I’d better come tuck you in, then.”

“Shut up,” Jax says, smiling.

“Yeah whatever,” Jim rolls his eyes and polishes off his drink. He takes Jax’s hand, tugs him along to their room. Under the covers, Jax reaches over to turn off the light, and Jim slings an arm around him once he settles. “Happy New Year, baby.” he says quietly.

Jax takes hold of Jim’s wrist, clutches Jim’s forearm against his chest, tangles his fingers in Jim’s. “Happy New Year, sweetheart,” Jax whispers back, and for once, he feels like it just might come true.

#words

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carriecutforth · 3 years

Text

The Shit

Tumblr is telling me to go ahead, put anything...so here it goes

I haven't been public about this for reasons that will be apparent but gonna start this with all the trigger warnings. I'm writing it here cause I can't talk to the majority of people about it cause most people can't even grasp, and then questions start, putting me in the situation of feeling like my GIANT SWEATER of trauma is being unraveled answering questions that lead to more questions and gah PLEASE DO NOT RETUMBL-- I just need to scream in the void This is the shit: On the day my sister-in-law's mother died she had to call form-1 my baby brother because his psychosis (undiagnosed mental illness which I will get to) was terrorizing their family (three small kids). My mother WHO IS SCHIZOPHRENIC had him released into her and my ANTI-VAXXER ANTI-MASKER narcissist father's care, but NOT before they found out, incidentally due to the FORM 1, he is ALSO really sick with leukemia. I only found out because I decided to dip into the special folder for emails called MOM that I try to avoid reading as long as they can FOR REASONS. But I felt for some reason an urge to, and then I had to try to parse out what had happened from her ramblings that are A LOT. Then I had to confirm with my poor sil who is at her wits end and was in no position to tell me herself. My dad stopped talking to me back in November when I called him for his anti-vax rhetoric as being EUGENICS when he told me it is just the flu and only killing old people and the disabled. I reminded him I've been immuno-compromised my whole life (he KNOWS this) and got chronic fatigue after a flu in late 2016 (he knows this), and did he not care if I DIED? (apparently not) But I was like lol, fine, don't talk to me anymore. Die mad about it for all I care. A lot of people are like: 'oh, that's tough, losing a relationship with your father' and I'm like YOLO (it really isn't if you knew him). SO THEN I have to reach out to my dad: "Why isn't my brother in the hospital being treated by medical professionals for YOU KNOW, HIS LEUKEMIA." My dad responded that the doctors were JUST GOING TO PUMP HIM FULL OF DRUGS! And that HE is treating my brother's leukemia with I dunno baking soda (he told me before it is a cure for cancer). THEN HE GOES RADIO SILENT. I have no idea where my brother is cause they got him an apartment somewhere in Toronto. *though I do have a Machiavellian plan to try to find out. The reason my brother has untreated psychosis is that even though I've begged my parents since he was a TEEN to get him diagnosed, they refused. It's like they have the opposite of Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy in that their ABLEISM is soooo bad they refuse to see he has been very sick, and even if he was really sick, 'doctors are stupid' <--quoting my dad. This is the backstory. My dad was always on the road for his job. My mom had my baby brother AGAINST all wishes of her doctor to ever get pregnant again. I'm not talking aborting, she got PREGNANT on purpose again to SERVE GOD'S GREATER PURPOSE even though it might kill her and said future fetus. So he was born with a lot of issues because of the very bad pregnancy's complications on TOP of the very hereditary bipolar/schizophrenia, AND everything else we got going on besides. After he was born, my mom went into a very deep depression for years and then would vacillate between that and mania. Which meant me: THE ELEVEN year old was forced to raise a baby that wasn't hers and had no ultimate authority over. I was called by everyone his *BROTHER'S NAME* SECOND MOM. *More on this later Our relationship is very strained because of this, particularly when at 17 I had enough momming a child while being constantly undermined by my parents absolute shenanigans. So there was resentment when I quit being his 'second mom' and that he equally resented for things like, trying to put him into bed, when my mom would come in and say let him stay up all night or getting him to eat something other than candy for breakfast (you can guess the dynamic with my parents here). Even if my disabled ass could sue my parents for his

care, he doesn't WANT me to be in charge of his care.

And yet still, I tried to advocate for him for years fighting my parents TOOTH and NAIL to get him on disability and out from underneath their thumb so he could have a measure of independence and autonomy. They had every excuse in the book not to get him diagnosed including expense. It was so goddamned awful fighting with them on this cause in their mind: he was going to live with either them or me forever (they decided this for me and my ex-husband and kids with no consultation), so WHY bother set up his future for him??? So when he was 20?, I hatched a Machiavellian PLAN: I got him, against my parent's wishes, into college for the sole reason of getting the resources for him to get diagnosed so that he could get on disability. AND IT WORKED! (kinda) Except my parents twisted him so much into only talking about his autism spectrum symptoms and NONE of the psychosis because their ableism is sooooo entrenched. (but I did manage to get him on ODSP). And subsequent times I forced my dad to take him to a psychiatrist, he's like: 'oh, I forgot to talk about the psychosis we just talked about the aspergers. Besides people with psychosis are untreatable, you can't convince them otherwise' (see again, my mom). Over the years, I have begged my dad to take my brother to get properly diagnosed and treated (I'm not meaning forced, my brother is also agoraphobic, and won't leave his place UNLESS he is driven by my dad and was living in a city far away from me). I said, I was very concerned for his kids but my dad always gaslights me (and tells everyone I'm crazy -- the IRONY). So now my mom is writing me emails about how this is all my sil's fault because 'she is on drugs' (she is not), 'she is sleeping around' (she is not), 'her kids are scared of her not my brother' (it's the exact opposite). WHICH IS A HUGE TRIGGER FOR ME because She did the exact same thing to ME with my other brother (a diagnosed PSYCHOPATH) who used to beat me and the rest of us mercilessly when my parents weren't around (and they never believed me, and told everyone not to believe me because I was crazy), who pulled a KNIFE on me and threw a drawer at me when I was NINE MONTHS PREGNANT, and how absolutely awful I was AS HIS SISTER to kick him out of my house with no place to live or go (cause he was living with me and my ex-husband at the time because THEY KICKED HIM OUT OF THEIR PLACE and didn't want him back.) Are you beginning to get a sense of the dynamic of my family? Soooooooo the last few weeks my brain has just been in total trauma mode going processing, processing, processing, processing as the final total realization of how absolutely awful my family is finally laid bare (I mean I knew but at least I can stop feeling guilty about cutting them out of my life). So back to the 'second mom' shit, as relevant to my trauma brain processing the last few weeks. This whole shit above is just the tip of the iceberg. I was raised as a Joho in which a lot of my trauma comes from a pedophile left loose on three generations of girls in my family over a thirty year period, and if anyone came forward they were threatened with disfellowshipment and there is SO MUCH there it would take me several Tolkien novels to get how absolutely awful, extensive it was, and how the coverup went straight to the top. ANYHOO. So who was calling me my brother's 'second mom???' Well since, I wasn't allowed to have any association with non-witnesses, it was my congregation. No one questioned that I was being parentified and it was a deeply abusive situation. NO WHAT HAPPENED instead was, this sister in the congregation told everyone (when I was fifteen and 80 pounds soaking wet at the height of 5'10 1/2) that my brother WAS REALLY MY CHILD cause it was so obvious the way that I was the one who took care of him. And the elders of our congregation MARKED me as bad association for loose morals for having a supposed child out of wedlock when I was ELEVEN YEARS OLD. AND NO ONE in my congregation would talk to me, and I had NO IDEA why, cause they never told me that I HAD BEEN

MARKED. But the caveat was I was not allowed to talk to people outside of the faith. And we only found out about this a year an a half later when she said the same shit back in my hometown where he was born to a sister who was at the hospital where my brother was born. AND NO ONE thought, hey: maybe if we think she had a baby when she was eleven we should um CALL CHILD SERVICES or some shit? So i was like 16 1/2, not allowed to have any friends OUTSIDE OF MY PARENTS, find out THIS SHIT, and then people wonder why I had my first manic episode at 17??? Yeah, so this is where my brain has been stuck the last month, complicated that I knew I would be at risk for hypomania with things opening back up, and I'm supposed to be shooting a pilot for a potential series I'm the creator/co-shorunner of, so now I've had to go BACK on seroquel and it's the worst while i try to acclimatize myself to the drugs and stave off hypomania at the same time. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

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kumicho-izuku-asks · 4 years

Note

Hey, I was wondering if it's possible for us to get all the objectives that Izuku had to deal with! Dunno, I was kinda curious about what made everyone so ill and horrified- (P.S: It's okay if it's not possible I was just curious lol)

My dude I am a exagertaing bitch so there is not a full 14 page document somewhere to sate all or your desires for knowledge however I can list most of the ones I had in my head when I wrote a preliminary list when I thought I'd include some of the objectives in the fic and they'd be discussed.

Let's start with the ones we already know:

- A member of the villain team has to die (Midoriya's sacrifice at the end obviously)

- Collection of an enemies limb

- The enemy leader must be responsible for the death of one of their team mates (Todoroki with Sero)

Now for the ones we know about but weren't explicitly mentioned:

- Vlad King robots lunchbox

- The destruction of a particular office building (the blown up building wasnt just a distraction)

- The 'death' of five specific 'hospital patients' (remember the hero team massacre where Wakagashira made the Macbeth quite to Kirishima?)

- Incited betrayal on the opposite team (Sero)

- Destruction and/or disruption of the opposition hierarchy (Midoriya 'I'm high on caffeine and bad decisions so let's have a brawl with Bakugou and cry about our traumatic childhood to Todoroki' Izuku everybody)

- A specific safety deposit box (the reason why team Momo were at the bank before they tricked Sero)

Now onto the ones we didnt get to see bc either I didnt write them or they weren't touched with a fifteen foot pole but just remember that some or these may sound like they were done but they weren't because these would have been marked as 'initially thought to be complete but after reconsidering action weren't':

- Mutilation of an enemy

- Public execution of an enemy

- Psychological torture of an enemy

- Posioning all available resources so that both sides are forced to end the match as soon as possible

- Causing an enemy to 'self inflict' an injury

- Killing the entire opposition without a single personal loss

- Allowing an ally to sacrifice themselves for the team (Nedzu : Can't protect them all // Midoriya : Try me rat.)

- Causing a debilitating injury upon which the injured enemy has to forfeit (loss of sight or hearing permanent or not for example

- Sacrificing a team mate for the greater good (so for example Midoriya could have had everyone retreat when Sen was ambushed by the hero team so that it didnt put anybody else in danger rather than the team turning up and potentially accidentally losing more people or releasing information by accident.)

- Death of the oppositions leader by the leader of the group (so Midoriya would have had to of 'shot' Todoroki point blank or the teachers would have had to be able to tell in the rain of bullets that it had been Tokoyami to land the killing blow specifically)

That's all I can remember for now!

#piecesareeasilysacrificedwhentheyrenameless #bnha

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #352

my head’s a mess and a half, i can’t think of lyrics to put here so yeah here’s the survey

What’s the last vegetable you ate, and when did you eat it? Uh I think it was a pepper in this Healthy Choice dinner bowl I had yesterday. What was your last Facebook notification for? A friend liking this photo I shared of some beautiful, small rock and pebble sculptures of people. What bands have you seen live? Just Alice Cooper. Tell me an interesting fact about your mother: She only has one kidney due to the other being taken out because of kidney cancer when I was a kid. Coincidentally, her father was actually born with only one as well. What do you think is the most important thing to happen to you before the age of 13? Nothing really comes to mind. What were you super against as a young child but aren’t anymore? SUPER against? I dunno, man. What are your plans later today? I don't know. Yesterday my mother informed me that Jason's mother died, and since then I've been in shock. I was in awful condition yesterday because I absolutely adore(d) her like she was MY family, and once upon a time I thought she would be officially, and I still feel very, very dead. I doubt I'll get anything done today. Are you doing anything exciting this weekend? Definitely not exciting... Mom and possibly I are probably bringing Jason's family food for the family get-together they're having (we're not staying for... obvious reasons), but she's unsure because it might be a bit too awkward. I'll stay in the car because I don't want to disrespect Jason's space, but I REALLY want to go through with this. His mom was so important to me, and I don't want to just... do nothing as if she meant just that. I want the family to know I never stopped caring just because there was a breakup. Plus I wanna give Jason his favorite chocolate bar to try to bring him a bit of happiness. I can't imagine what he's feeling, and my instinct of "I need to protect him" absolutely never went away. Who do you talk to the most? My mom. What are some things you do regularly that make you feel old? Go to bed before 9PM, sometimes even before 8. And my knees pop like a motherfucker. Who is your best guy friend(s)? Girt and Sam. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? Neither; instead, I just wish it was clearer. I have extremely dry skin, especially on my arms, so I have little bumps and marks there, as well as little freckles over my body. Having like, porcelain skin would be amaaaazing. If you had a tiny scar on your face, would you get it removed or just keep it? Keep it. Look more badass, haha. Have you had an x-ray in the past year? I think so, on my legs. It may have been over a year ago, idr. Do you think your first love still loves you? I don't want to know. I really don't. What is something that is “going right” in your life? *blinks* When did you feel ready to start dating? Seriously, probably late middle school. When was the last time your pet bit you? If you don’t have a pet, have you ever been bitten by someone else’s? My snake Venus has never bitten me. Meanwhile, my cat Roman lightly (and sometimes not so lightly...) bites me pretty much every day when I play with him, lol. Where were you the last time you made out? My bed. When was the last time you cried tears of joy? I probably haven't done that since I met Sara irl. How do you type your sad smileys? One of these three: :( or :c or :< Do you have “decorative hand-towels” that cannot be used in your house? No. What was the last soda you drank? Mountain Lightning, a Mtn. Dew ripoff bc we're cheap, lol. What was the last thing someone made fun of you for? I don't know. Have you ever had any type of surgery? Yeah, a cyst removal as well as tubes in my ears. Should kids be allowed to get tattoos/piercings without parental consent? Uh no????? Who was the last person to hit on you? That I'm actually aware of, Sara. I'm quite sure nobody has since. What was the last thing you decided not to do, that you were supposed to? I was too weak to even clean the litterbox last night. I just wanted to go to bed. I need to do it today. What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to tell someone? Hm. Maybe that I didn't love Joel? It was just really awkward and I felt awful about the whole situation. What do you put on hot dogs? Ketchup and mustard. Ever fallen in the shower? I've fallen OUT of the shower. I was extremely dizzy and was trying to get out, and I just passed out onto my chin. Broke some molars and got a concussion. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever called someone you care about? Probably a bitch or something. Do you think that things will get better? I sure hope so. Have you ever legitimately saved a person’s life? I guess I kinda have. My WoW friend Lisa and I were talking, and she wasn't feeling well at all when she suddenly disappeared. Coincidentally, her husband got home RIGHT when I messaged her again, wanting to check up on her, and he heard the alert so checked it out. Lisa was knocked out on the couch having some medical emergency with a name I can't remember, and he just thought she was sleeping. Because of seeing the chat, he took her to the hospital when she probably would've died otherwise. She insists I saved her. What’s your favourite book genre? Fantasy. Have you ever walked out of a movie at the theatre? No. Do dogs like you? They definitely seem to. Animals in general honestly do. Would you say that you project an air of authority? Definitely not. Have you ever jumped off a high dive into a pool? No. I've always wanted to, but I was too scared at any opportunity. Do you use one towel when you shower or two? (one for hair, one for body) I just use one. I dry my hair first, then my body. Have you ever been to one of the great lakes? No, but I did see one of them from a plane when I was flying to Sara's. Who do you know that had a baby recently? My high school friend had her daughter Persephone literally a couple days ago. Cute little thing. Do you like Usher’s songs? Oh wow, what a blast from the past. I don't even recall the names of any, but I remember I enjoyed some as a kid. When was the last time you went to a waterpark? Wow, it has been YEARS. Like, not since I was a teen. Have you ever ridden a train? No. What do you eat your French fries with? Ketchup, sometimes. Do you have family problems? Not really. What’s the last food you ate that was stale? Bread, I think. How do you like your grilled cheese? Just a normal 'ole grilled cheese. What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? I don’t cook. What was your favorite thing to do as a little kid? Play video games. Have you ever been close to drowning? Yikes, no. Have you ever had a panic attack? Countless. Do you like doing housework? No, who does? Would you ever get implants? Nah. Do you own a robe? No. Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Yeah, Nicole. Do you like crust on pizza or do you cut it off? I don't trust people who don't eat pizza crust. What was the last song you listened to? "The Ghost of You" by My Chemical Romance. It's making me cry, but I really need to. Have any of your family members been to jail? No. None that I know of, anyway. Is there anyone that you feel you still need some closure with? An old friend, yes. Can you remember when you first learned how to read? No. What event in your life has transformed your personality the most? My mental illnesses as a whole. Have you ever had any teeth pulled? No. Do you still want to be what you wanted to be in elementary school? No, but only because it's not realistic. I don't want to travel. What’re some TV shows that you would like to get into? I don't care about TV 'til MM resumes, and then absolutely whenever The Edge of Sleep is released. Mark is a key actor in it. How would you feel if you were drafted for the military? I couldn’t be. What is your favorite Queen song? Ha, I'm aware this is probably everyone's answer, but "Bohemian Rhapsody" is the bop of all bops. Do you know how to use any foreign currency? No. Been kissed by someone who you knew was “bad” for you? BEEN kissed, yeah. By Juan. Ever taken an at-home pregnancy test? No. When was the last time you were at a loss of what to do? Now. What did you do on your favorite date with a guy/girl? It was a group date where we went to this big arcade one night. What’s a movie you have seen in the theater more than once? None. What is the reason you’re still alive? That's a big answer that I'm not in the mood to ramble about. Have you ever had sex in someone else’s bed/bedroom? Yeah, oops. Do you ever brush your hair before you go to bed? No. Have you ever had a dream about sleeping with a celebrity? (You don’t have to give details.) HAHA this was the only lucid dream I've ever had lmfao. Has anyone ever told you that they needed you? Do you think they meant it? I don't remember. How did you feel when you woke up today? What was the first thing you thought about? Like shit. "Virginia's still dead" just bitchslapped me. Do you still tell your parents that you love them? Well yeah. Have you ever said “I love you” to someone you weren’t going out with? Yes, because I really did. Have you ever been threatened before? Yes. Would you date someone with a physical disability? Yeah. Think of the last person you had sex with. Do you think they’ve slept with anyone else since they last slept with you? Probably. The last time you dyed your hair, what color did you dye it? Red. Think of the last time you went out to eat. Who paid? My mom. Do you save at least 15 percent of your income? What income? Do you ever go on Reddit? If so, what are some of your favorite subreddits? No. Were you ever a flower girl or ring bearer in anyone’s wedding when you were little? No. Are your parents in good health? Not especially. They're both probably unhealthier than the average person. Dad smokes way too much to be healthy, and Mom has a plethora of issues. Have you ever been a caregiver to a sick/disabled relative? No; it sounds awful, but I'm very doubtful I could be because I canNOT clean another human being. Is there any type of medicine you can’t take? For what reason? No. Do you have a favorite pair of pajamas? What do they look like? They're black Pokemon pants with Pikachu jumping by the logo. Do you have any interesting pillow cases? No. If something on your body hurts, which part is it most likely to be? My knees. Are you more afraid of spiders or bees? Both, but situationally. Have you ever worn fake nails? If so, what did the last pair you wore look like? Only once for prom. They were maroon, like my dress. Wait... or maybe I didn't wear them? Fuck, idr. Is Russian or Native American history more interesting to you? Native American history is way more fascinating to me.

#survey #surveys #questions

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imtryingmyfuckingbe · 4 years

Text

And If This Is It

Second chapter in a short series.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Mentions: Jess, Sam, Charlie, Cas, Gabriel, Jo, Jules (OC)

Trigger warnings: Slight mention of smut

I am the sole author and reserve the rights to my work. However, I am not the owner of Supernatural as a franchise, or the characters including, but not limited to: Dean, Sam, Castiel, Gabriel, Jo, Jess, or Charlie.

CHAPTER TWO:

She cradles her phone between her cheek and shoulder, picking through ripe peppers. Charlie drones endlessly about some new video game or console or— Y/N honestly doesn’t know. Of all the shared personality traits between the pair, Y/N fails to see the wonder of Red Dead Redemption or Overwatch. Even still, she listens and hums agreement in Charlie’s pauses.

Placing a trio of red, yellow, and orange peppers in her cart, Y/N continues towards the avocados. Grocery shopping calms her. The comforting monotony allows her to move thoughtlessly on the familiar path from produce to deli and down aisles she could navigate in her sleep. It gives her a sense of control, and offers time to herself.

Y/N switches the phone to her other ear, rubbing the kink in her neck. Charlie finishes raving, in turn changing the topic to work. Some shitty guests left a lengthy poor review on both Yelp and Google, and now she has a meeting with Jason, their boss. “I’m going to quit that place, I swear it!” she emptily declares. She threatens leaving at least twice a week, but never seems to commit. Yes, the customers suck, and the managers have a canyon sized room for improvement, but the worthwhile money keeps her hooked like a dirty mistress. How else could afford tuition?

“I’m sure you will. Once you get your big girl job looking at computers all day.”

“That is an insulting minimization of what I’m actually going to do, and you know it!” Charlie scolds.

“I jest, I jest,” Y/N laughs. Getting a rise out of Charlie is her favorite past time. “But, for real, I have to check out. I have errands to run today. Dean is going to service my car.”

Y/N imagines Charlie’s eye roll and upturned smile. Not many people know of her affections towards Dean, but one drunken night led to confessions she can’t stuff back inside. Charlie has yet to let her live it down.

“Ah, yes. Our dear friend,” she stresses. “That leads us to another conversation, but I’m thinking I should get some tequila in you first.”

“Not going to happen. I’m fine, okay?” Even she doesn’t believe herself.

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. But, go, be merry. Tell the man I said hi.”

Y/N ends the call quickly, glad to finish the uncomfortable conversation. Her tense shoulders and the knots on both sides of her neck make her regret accepting Charlie’s call in the first place. She knows Charlie means no ill will but she can’t help the frustration building on her brow.

The checkout line moves quickly, not many people shopping at noon on a Wednesday. With her groceries tucked in her trunk, she makes her way to Dean’s house. He lives in a corner townhouse on the intersection of Sutler and Harrison, affording him a small side yard to work on his car— and sometimes Y/N’s. Despite his mechanic job, Dean enjoys spending his free time working on cars. He said it feels like a break from the world, blackened hands in his engine.

Y/N understands needing to take a step back. Life, in all of its intricacies, is only the withdrawing waters of the ocean, before rearing its ugly, tsunami head. She found her saving grace in writing: lyrics, poems, stories. Transporting herself into a new world saved her from this one when her bones grew heavy and her eyes tired.

She pulls into his driveway, parking next to his Impala. Its propped up hood hides a bent over Dean busying himself with tightening one thing or another. Grabbing the six pack in her passenger seat, Y/N emerges from her car.

“Howdy, partner,” she jokes.

Dean pokes his head around the side of his car, teeth bared in a wide smile. Black smudges decorate his nose and cheeks. His short hair received the brunt of frustration, pushed backwards with flyaways dancing in the wind. Y/N snickers, raking her eyes across his denim clad legs and up to the black t-shirt stretched across his chest, ending on his stained skin.

“What? Got something on my face?”

She shakes her head, amused. “Yeah, only here, here, and here,” she points to his nose and chin and cheeks.

He grabs her extended hand and pulls her inward, dipping his head down to her white shirt. Rubbing his face on her shoulder, he leaves behind the blackness in his wake. Y/N struggles against him and the bubbling laughter in her chest.

“This is white, asshole!”

Dean steps back, hands still holding her upper arms, and admires his work. She gently pushes against his chest, feigning anger and trying to ignore the muscles beneath her palm. She got this shirt for ninety-five cents at a yard sale; three similar garments hang in her closet. This isn’t a real loss.

“I think it looks good! Makes it seem like you know your way around a car.”

“Yes, because when fixing cars I use my shoulder. It’s super effective, you should try it.”

Dean rolls his eyes, finally releasing Y/N. She steps back, filling her lungs with much needed air. Any time spent closely to him required extra oxygen. Her heart runs rampage around her chest, and she knows if she looks down it may just shine through her shirt. Steeling herself, she returns to the task at hand.

Speaking of, the weight of the beer in her hand gives her something to do. Setting the pack on the hood of her car, she retrieves two bottles and cracks them open. The crisp coolness holds her to the ground, even as Dean’s fingers brush against hers when he accepts the offer. In silence, they sip the citrus IPA.

“All righty then, what’s going on with your gal?”

“Just need an oil change, I think. It doesn’t hurt to have it looked at, though.”

He nods, brows drawn together and lips pursed. Everything in Y/N, her lungs and head and skin, wants to take the rag from Dean’s back pocket and wipe his face, removing both the crease in his forehead and the gunk. Instead, she kisses her beer, watching as he pops her hood and checks the oil.

The betrayal of her body lingers in her movements when she walks to the front of her car, leaning next to a working Dean. His skin radiates warmth. Tendrils of his cologne overwhelm her. She breathes in, basking in him while trying to clear her foggy head. Fresh air is good, she fruitlessly tells herself. Fresh air is good; when it’s not mixed with the man she adores.

Dean moves his car to the grass, allowing more space for him to work on the Mustang. Y/N sits on the ground in front of the garage as he jacks her car up to empty the oil pan. From this vantage point, she can see Dean in all of his glory. His shirt rides up, reveling a thin line of hair and toned muscles. She clenches her jaw, then takes another drink.

Her head knocks against the garage door, focusing on the baby blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Dean grunts quietly as he works, and Y/N’s mind supplies a different activity for his sounds. His hands would wander across the expanse of her body; across her hips, up to her breasts, down to her pussy. His lips would cover wherever his hands could not, sucking on her neck, leaving a hickey.

Now, Y/N once failed to see the appeal of someone marking up her body. But, fuck, if Dean Winchester said he wanted to cover her skin in bruising kisses, she wouldn’t be able to deny him. She wouldn’t want to.

Fingers snap in front of face. Shaking her head, she realizes Dean finished with her Mustang and hovered over her. “Hey, back to the living?”

Heat rushes to her cheeks. She ducks her head to look at her very interesting, noteworthy knees. “Yeah. Just thinking.” Not a full lie, but not the full truth, either. What could she say? I was daydreaming about making love? Not just fucking; making love.

He retrieves a beer from the pack before settling next to Y/N on the ground, back against the door and thighs touching. “Yeah? What about?” his playful tone forces her further into reality.

She doesn’t answer for a moment, instead focusing on the sharp, stinging pebbles digging into her thighs and ass. “Work.”

“Ah, it’s always work. Something wrong?”

Another sip.

“Not exactly. I talked to Charlie today, and she said she wanted to quit.”

“Doesn’t she always?”

“That’s what I said! But it got me thinking. Am I too comfortable there? I mean, I’ve worked there for, what? Three years?” Y/N surprises herself with her own excuse. She hadn’t actually put much stock in leaving, her own or Charlie’s. But now that it’s out in the open, the weight on her shoulders flutters away. He nods, encouraging her to continue. “I dunno,” she tosses her hands in indignation, spilling a little beer on the concrete, “I don’t want to stay in some dead end job that I don’t really love. Feels like a waste of time,” her voice starts strong but trails off into a whisper.

Dean sets his hand on her thigh, caressing it in an attempt to comfort her.

Another sip, another sigh.

This is the last thing she needs, but the first thing she wants. She once more lets her head fall backwards while Dean studies her in silence, head tilted. “What do you think you’d do?”

“That’s the thing: I don’t know. I don’t have a degree and the only jobs I’ve ever had were serving, or something in that world. Who the hell is going to hire me?”

“I don’t have a degree, either, ya’know.”

“Yes, but you have a career, and you’re good at it. I mean, look at you! You’re ahead of the rest, already. Basically running your own shop; got a whole-ass home. And I’m proud of you, I am. I just feel like I’m headed nowhere. Like, what have I got going for me?”

She closes her eyes to avoid his gaze, but he stays silent. His fingers continue to trace shapes into her thigh. Dean knows Y/N well enough to stop talking; it won’t ease the tension in her breast or pinging pain on her temple. Now that she said the words aloud, however, her mind races wild with the possibilities and risks of leaving the security of Zest.

She could pursue something in writing, a pipe dream of hers. She could get a few gigs in bars and play for a few hours for some cash. She could also quit and not find another job, falling into destitution and then forced to return to waiting tables. Flashes of grabby hands and entitled guests flit through her mind.

Goddamn, she hates customer service.

Mindlessly, she tilts her beer back, only droplets gracing her tongue. Without a word, Dean passes her the bottle he grabbed for himself. She nods in thanks, taking a sip.

He pats her thigh. “Well, it’s no use dwelling on what you can’t do. What can you do?”

Y/N shrugs.

“C’mon, I know you can do more than balance glasses and pretend to care about lobster. You write. What about that?”

“It’s recreational. I don’t have anything published. I don’t—”

“— All right, piss baby. If you’re going to keep complaining, I’m going to smack you.” He rolls his eyes, not really annoyed.

“Fine, fine. I could do freelance, I guess.”

“Yeah, you could. You could work as a receptionist and work your way up somewhere, too. Like, the newspaper. Start there, prove you can write, and they’ll have no choice but to hire you. Maybe pitch a few ideas. Don’t need a degree to be smart; I’m living proof of that,” he gestures to himself.

Y/N laughs, shoving her shoulder against his. “Yeah, yeah. You’re the next Einstein of car mechanics.”

“I could be.”

Another silence, no longer pregnant with her frustration. The sun beats down with a vengeance, however, making the beer in her hand lukewarm. Beads of sweat pool on her brows. Still, she doesn’t want to move. The hand on her leg, pressed thigh to Dean’s, shoulder to shoulder; she wants to savor this moment.

Even still, she can’t sit for much longer. The comfort of the man beside her refuses to extend to the unforgiving concrete beneath her or the heat in the air. With a sigh, she pushes herself up, stretching her sore legs and wiping off spare gravel clinging to her skin. Dean stands too, utilizing Y/N’s extended hand. Truthfully, it doesn’t help much but she would do almost anything to hold his hand, even for a second.

When the pair straighten, Dean’s fingers remain clasped in hers, his thumb rubbing circles on her knuckles. She revels in the gentle caress, wishing she didn’t have to leave. The groceries in her trunk call to her; she needs to put them away before they spoil.

“I have to go,” she whispers. The tightness in her chest returns at breaking the silence and ruining to moment. She refuses to look Dean in the eyes, not wanting to see whatever is there. Instead, she trains her gaze onto his stomach.

“Yeah, I figured. Use and abuse me for your car then skip out,” he jokes.

Finally looking upwards, she takes in his smile and kind eyes. If she had any guts, she would grab his cheeks and pull him down to kiss him. But she doesn’t have the courage to leave her dead-end job, let alone kiss the breathtaking man before her. Instead, she settles for wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him close.

She can do this for the rest of her life, she tries to convince herself. If she can’t have Dean in her bed or on her arm or loving her the way she desires, she can handle these moments. This is okay, this is okay, this is okay.

A kiss to her head and a final squeeze, Dean pulls back. “I’ll see ya soon, kid. Enjoy your ride.”

The two part, Y/N longing to return to his embrace. Her skin prickles from her desire, her feet refuse to move. And then a car honks from somewhere up the road and her wondering mind snaps back to reality. A final goodbye, she clambers into her car. Dean waves as she reverses from his driveway and starts back to her apartment across town. The wind whips her cheeks through the rolled-down windows.

She only looks back once.

#dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #and if this is it #supernatural au #supernatural fic #friends to lovers

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behindthehatred · 4 years

Text

Snapetober Day 9: Grief

Delilah didn’t even raise her head when she heard the door slam. She heard footsteps along the hallway and a thump as something landed at the foot of the stairs.

‘Miss Blackthorn?’ came a familiar voice. She didn’t answer.

After a moment Snape appeared in the doorway of the sitting room.

‘Fucking hell,’ he muttered.

‘Hi Professor,’ Delilah said listlessly from the sofa.

‘Are you ill?’

‘Huh?’

‘Are you ill?’ Snape repeated.

‘Nope,’ she said, still staring straight ahead. ‘I’m fine. Thanks for asking.’

‘If you aren’t ill, why do you look like you’re on your deathbed?’

‘Oh, just leave me alone.’

Severus stormed over to her, grabbed her by the upper arm and wrenched her into a sitting position. A crown of dead brown flowers slipped from the back of her head and shed a few crushed petals as it landed with a soft rustling sound on the sofa cushion.

‘What are you doing?’ she moaned.

‘Stand up,’ he commanded, yanking again at her arm.

‘Ouch,’ she said feebly, tottering to her feet. She pulled her arm from his grip and rubbed at the pink marks his fingers had left. ‘What’s your problem?’

‘I am plainly not the one with the problem. Your trunk was sent from your father’s house six days ago. Why are you still wearing the same clothes I left you in?’

Delilah looked blankly down at her blue dress and gave a half-hearted tug at its piteously rumpled skirt.

‘Dunno,’ she mumbled.

‘And when is the last time you ate?’

‘I woke up a couple of times and there was a sandwich beside me,’ she said slowly, frowning as though dredging up a distant memory. ‘I had a go at those. And someone keeps bringing me tea. I don’t know who though, I never seem to see them come.’

‘A Hogwarts House Elf has been assigned to care for you, for all the good it’s done. You are clearly spellbound by the glamour of your own misfortune, so have committed to a path of self-destruction. Perhaps you’d prefer that we withdrew our pesky efforts to keep you alive, and left you to suffer in peace?’

Delilah’s back stiffened, and she turned to Snape a face bearing an expression of purest hatred.

‘You think I’m enjoying this?’ she snarled, a hot throb of rage juddering through her with astonishing force. ‘You think I wanted to find myself in a strange house, entirely alone in the world? My father dead, my stepmother and sister in hiding, forbidden from communicating with my mother, Terry jinxed to forget he ever laid eyes on me, moving to a different school under a different name so I can exist as some kind of ghost?’

‘I think you are buckling under the weight of your own self-pity,’ Snape countered ruthlessly. ‘Yes, you’ve suffered losses, and yes, your circumstances have changed dramatically, but if you think yours is the tragic low-point of this blighted century, you are woefully misguided. Your tale is far from uncommon.’

‘Why do you care?’

‘Your self-absorption is almost inspiring in its resilience. It has been explained to you more than once that your life, or more precisely your death, contains consequences for the entire wizarding community.’ Snape clasped Delilah’s arm again and began to march her towards the doorway. ‘It is essential that you survive, it is essential that you remain undetected, and in order for that to happen you must resist the urge to draw attention to yourself.’

‘I’m not drawing attention to myself,’ Delilah growled, wrenching her arm again from his grasp. ‘I just want to be left a-fucking-lone.’

‘You expect to be left alone at Hogwarts if you slouch around with a face like thunder and hair like a bird’s nest? You expect to avoid raising suspicion if you refuse to wash, eat and change your clothes?’

‘When’s the last time you washed your hair?’ she shot back.

Snape lunged for her arm again and she span to avoid his hand, pulling her wand from the pocket of her dress and turning it on him in a blind rage. She had no sooner raised her arm than Snape’s wand seemed to materialise in his hand and he wordlessly disarmed her, then grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her back against the wall, leaning into her, his wand-tip pressed to the side of her head.

‘Don’t raise your wand at me, you stupid child,’ he hissed.

‘I’m not a child,’ she panted. ‘I’ve been seventeen for almost an entire day.’

‘Nonetheless, you will bathe if I have to strip you and do it myself.’

Chest heaving with exertion, blood thundering through her veins, Delilah was assailed by the memory of Terry’s body pressing her against the garden shed at The Briar House as Snape’s was now, his trembling fingertips exploring her nipples, which even now responded to the memory, his palm sliding up her inner thigh, and as Snape’s obsidian eyes locked hers in a contact which she seemed incapable of breaking, she remembered that her dress had still been around her waist when he’d snatched her from that embrace, and recalled with a shock that the rough knuckle of his hand, clenched around the shaft of his wand, had been digging into the yielding flesh of her left breast as he restrained her, the side of his index finger nudging the pebbled skin of her areola. She felt a mad urge to tug the straps of her dress down and let it fall again from her shoulders, and imagined those flickering eyes slithering slowly down to her naked breasts, his hand sliding up her shoulder and tracing across her collarbone, then creeping down her sternum…

Snape suddenly released her arm as though it were scalding his skin, and stepped backwards.

‘You will wash and eat,’ he said roughly. ‘Today. I have recovered your belongings from your mother’s house. If you disobey me, I shall hear of it.’

She staggered at the abrupt release from his bodyweight and followed him into the corridor in time to see a flash of black vanish behind the door as it slammed after him. She saw her old suitcase lying at the foot of the stairs and sank to sit on the bottom step, willing her racing pulse to still.

This is an excerpt from Chapter 4 of my fic ‘Behind the Hatred’ - if you enjoyed it, please follow the link in my profile to read the rest.

#snapetober #behindthehatred #prosnape #severus x oc #severus snape #professor snape #snape community

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elrondsscribe · 4 years

Text

Labors and Dangers

William Lee is willing to do whatever it takes to get Maggie back.

(Aka I was sleep deprived. Enjoy??)

~oo00oo~

Billy wakes on a warm summer morning, and Maggie is cold and still beside him.

He screams, calls her name, begs her to come back to him. He cradles her in his arms and rocks her. He kisses her cheeks and wets them with his tears. But her eyes never blink, and her heart remains silent under his hands.

It’s only when he picks up her hand that he sees the black tree stamped on her palm: the mark of the underworld. In a moment, his grief changes to determination.

He can bring her back.

Hell had better watch out.

~oo00oo~

Billy is equally resolute. “Freedom without my Maggie ain’t no kind of freedom, sir.”

“Very well,” Washington stands, goes to one of his bookshelves, rummages a bit, and pulls down an old book of chants. He pauses in the act of handing it over.

“Sir?” Billy labors not to look or sound impatient.

Washington purses his lips. “You know you are not guaranteed success in this endeavor.”

“I know that, sir.”

Washington hands him the book. “Good luck then, I suppose.”

~oo00oo~

The ritual passes in a blur; Billy is barely aware of his own voice as he chants. The sky turns dark, and dark clouds gather seemingly from nowhere. The wind picks up, and lightning flashes overhead.

Unmoved, Billy finishes the incantation, and the air before him rips like a curtain. Nothing is visible through the gap but darkness.

He ignores the deep dread that curls in his gut, and turns to Polly, who is holding his infant son. He kisses the baby’s cheeks and whispers, “I’m coming back with your mama, sweetheart.”

And he straightens, and walks into the rip.

~oo00oo~

It feels wrong. He has a body, and yet he doesn’t. He can see with eyes he somehow knows are not real. He breathes with false lungs.

‘It’s an illusion to help you adjust to a world that isn’t really alive enough for you,’ says a gruff voice. Billy turns, finds himself on the bank of a jet black river. A boat sits on the bank, and a tired looking man stands beside it.

‘Charon?’ he asks uncertainly. The boatman looks like he could be one of the working men from the docks back home.

The boatman nods. ‘Get in.’

~oo00oo~

‘I’m sure you’re aware that releasing someone who died unnaturally is … complicated,’ says Hades.

Billy’s phantom jaw clenches. Hades looks like Washington — another illusion, Charon has told him; in this liminal space the gods appear to human visitors in the guise of people they know. It seems fitting, somehow, that Hades should wear Washington’s face.

(It’s more puzzling that the deity at Hades’ side, presumably Persephone, wears the face of the Marquis de Lafayette.)

“You wouldn’t release her at all if she’d died naturally,” he says, keeping himself from adding sir with an effort.

Hades’ lip curls. “Very astute.”

~oo00oo~

Billy has nothing to offer Hades. He possesses nothing now that he’s used up his favor from Washington.

“Your child,” says Hades.

Billy’s phantom fists tighten in anger. “You’re not touching my child a day before it’s his time.”

Hades wears Washington’s most unimpressed look. “What do you have to barter, then?”

“Myself,” Billy says without hesitation.

Hades snorts. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”

But Persephone looks at him sharply. “You, who gave up an offer of manumission from one master, would sell yourself to another?” she (he?) asks, without a trace of Lafayette’s French accent.

Billy nods.

~oo00oo~

Seven earthly years Billy labors for Hades: he drives the souls of the dead that Charon doesn’t have time to get to. Turns out there’s a multitude of unlucky humans pressed into similar indentures, often for similar reasons.

The work is grueling: another benefit of being human in a liminal space, his phantom body can tire.

Hades seems to revel in the knowledge that Billy understands the significance of the seven years; he seems to want Billy to suspect a trick.

But when Persephone returns that last winter, she makes Hades honor the deal. ‘You’ve had your laugh,’ she says.

~oo00oo~

Hades sets Billy on the shadowed path back to the living world. “Don’t look back, or try to talk,” he says. “If she wants to follow you, she’ll follow you.

Billy doesn’t trust Hades, but he has little choice, so he sets off. The road is rough, plunging into valleys and climbing mountains — can Maggie make it? He doesn’t know if she can climb. Or does she even care to try?

He wonders this as the valleys get wider and the mountains steeper. He can’t hear her behind him … should he? Or is silence that part of the trick?

~oo00oo~

After what feels like an eternity of dark silence, the light at the end of the road almost hurts his phantom eyes. Hope fills his phantom chest, and he climbs the last mountain so fast that his overstrained phantom knees give out on him. He has to crawl almost on his stomach for the last few yards.

He crawls into the light, his arms aching with exhaustion, and doesn’t stop until he’s sure he’s put the underworld behind him. Even then he doesn’t turn, doesn’t speak. He will sit with his back to the gateway forever, but he dares not —

~oo00oo~

Her arms are around him and she’s kissing him. “Oh my Will, you came for me!”

Billy twists around and pulls her into his arms. “‘Course I came for you, Maggie,” he says, staring up into her face, drinking in her beauty for the first time in seven years.

“Billy?” a voice calls, and Billy looks up. He and Maggie are half lying on the grass by the house at Mt. Vernon, and it’s Frank calling.

A small boy comes running out to greet them, and as one Billy and Maggie stretch out their arms for their son.

They are home.

~oo00oo~ ~oo00oo~ ~oo00oo~

Omg I wrote a 10x100! In one night too! If it reads like a fever dream, that’s because it is one.

I haven’t seen Hadestown and I don’t know the soundtrack, but I have been listening to the song ‘Way Down Hadestown.’ I love it so much! I was also kinda inspired by it: lines like ‘Mr. Hades is a mean ol’ boss / With a silver whistle and a golden scale’ especially made me think of Washington. (There isn’t any such thing as a good slave owner, but Washington wasn’t really even one of the nicer ones, the bastard.)

Wouldn’t you know, Lafayette apparently either had or bought a plantation house in France at some point, set all the slaves free, gave them education and options, and then proceeded to pay wages to the people who remained? That’s primarily what made me think of him as connected to Persephone. Plus, you know, Washette.

Oh yeah, in case you didn’t know, the seven years thing is in reference to Jacob’s agreement with Laban to marry Rachel. It’s a story Hades knows Billy’s likely familiar with, hence why Billy’s tense about it (Laban ended up cheating Jacob into working another seven years for him). He thinks it’s quite funny to make Billy work for seven earth years to get his wife back too. Har see har, Hades.

Uhhh, I dunno, Polly’s Frank’s wife/Billy’s sister-in-law. I made her up, I have no idea if the real Frank Lee was married. Also! Apparently there’s an indication that Billy Lee had a child at some point (name and gender unknown).

Billy’s wife Margaret (whom I’m anachronistically calling Maggie again) did apparently get the grudging OK from Washington to join Billy at Mt Vernon, but there aren’t any records there of her ever living there. They keep pretty good records at Mt Vernon, so if Margaret had ever lived there, I think we’d know. Also Margaret was reportedly ill at some unspecified point. All of which to say, I think it’s historically possible she died either before or very soon after ever arriving at Mt Vernon.

Also a very clumsy reference to Billy’s knee problems later in life!

It’s not like everything’s gonna be okay, obviously. Seven years have passed by on earth; Billy at least is returning to slavery; his son doesn’t actually know him or Maggie yet. What becomes of them all? I don’t know.

#elvella scribbles #william lee #william ‘billy’ lee #billy lee #margaret thomas #maggie thomas #hades as washington #some vague reference to Hadestown probably #oneshot #10x100 #billy x maggie #elvella’s fanfic #shippy content

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just-some-random-blogger · 5 years

Text

One Million In One Day | 8

GOT7 SugarDaddy!Jackson Wang x Reader + Park Jinyoung x Reader | Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ? Characters: GOT7 Summary: His mother’s final wish is to see him be happy in a relationship, knowing that Jackson would be fine when she left him. But, damn, he didn’t have time for relationships, especially not since he was busy running his father’s billion dollar empire, thus the compromise: you. Word Count: 4k+ Warnings: Stalking, fighting, cursing, mentioning of illness, TYPOS, etc.

Preview | Alternate Moodboard | Chapter 8 Teaser

A/N: i made a moodboard for this chapter because i needed the will to keep going cough cough but made it into a teaser cuz i write slow

Yall this is also the longest chapter ive written for anything lololl

"Hey Jackson," I mutter and turn from the ice cream cone in my hand to his clear smooth face, "not to sound greedy-- purely out of curiosity and to prepare myself..."

Jackson looks at me, brown eyes widening in expectation.

"Am... I gonna get paid again?" I said speaking lowly at one particular word.

He gives me a blank expression, and I follow it up quickly, raising a hand, "Can I just... not?"

He lets out a sigh and shakes his head, "Baby," he cuts himself of by licking the dripping the melted ice cream on the side of his cone that was trickling its way down to his fingers. I found myself gulping. He takes a bite and turns back to me, "a deal's a deal. I don't want to come off as a cheat."

"No but you won't cause it's-it's my request!"

He thinks as he eats his dessert. I purse my lips, "I honestly don't know what to do with it anymore. I paid my loads, have a whole new wardrobe and a whole fridge of food. I even payed my rent for the rest of the year and that still wasn't enough to get rid of it all. I had to get my friend help me burn the money and keep my sanity in check. I bought him a laptop and everything."

"Oh," Jackson pulls his head back and knits his brows, "you told Jinyoung?"

"What?" Part of me panics when I hear him say that name.

Once the question registers in my head I shake my hands, "No, no, no. I told Mark, my other friend. And well, my roommate Nari, because there is no way she wouldn't find out about it anyway." I turn to Jackson and finish the rest of my ice cream. "You remember her, Nari? She was with me, uhm, when I was fitting that green dress."

Jackson's poker face shifts into a smile, "Ahhhh, yeah."

For a moment, we finish off eating and throw away our trash without words.

"Who else did you tell?"

I turn to Jackson who starts walking off again. I follow after him and purse my lips in realization of what he could possibly be insinuating, "Oh, uhm, just them. And I may tell Jinyoung after this. Am... am I not supposed to? I mean I didn't really-- they don't... I trust them..."

Jackson shakes his head and breaks into a nervous laugh, "No. No. It's just... no offence, I don't doubt the fact that they can't use this against me. It's just," he chuckles, "usually the fake dating goes both ways. I dunno, it's a first that I don't have to worry about seeing your family too."

I can't help but break out in a laugh, "yikes. Sounds like a nightmare."

"Gosh, you have no clue."

We trail off for a while. I break the silence this time, "So... do we have a deal?"

Jackson turns to me and lets out a breath, "Oh no, absolutely not."

I do a double take and pull my had back, "What?"

"Hearing myself say that aloud makes me realize how unfair this arrangement is to you. And it's making me feel uneasy, like I want to punch myself." He knits his brows and stuffs his hands in his pockets, "you have go around meeting all these people in environments you're not used to, in clothes that aren't yours," he lifts his thumb and point behind him with it, "having strange men follow you around." He releases a breath and turns to me, "and all you get out of that is paper."

I can't help but frown at his conclusion. It was plain to see how opposite our worlds were, with the mere way we value money. It made me feel lucky, honestly, that even though I wasn't rich, I had friends and family, their love around me, something this lonely billionaire evidently lacked.

"Listen, sweetheart. I don't mean to make you feel bad because of this, but, you have a lot of money, I don't. I don't have the need to focus on a massive business and to hear people around me nag about my love life, you do. The other gives what is needed and takes what the other has in excess. I don't know about you, but that seems like an awfully beneficial deal to me."

Jackson snickers after I spoke, "smart."

I smile upon hearing that.

"One of the things I like about you."

Wh- one of the things he--

"Alright Ms. Business Major. I see you learning in your classes."

I release a laugh at that and so does he. "But if anything, sweetheart," he stresses and leans down. I feel my neck and ears burn, "what? You can call me baby, but I can't call you sweetheart?"

He laughs, "No, no, it's cute. Please do." He turns his gaze forward, "this just further proves that I need to take care of you in the only way I can."

I groan and screw my eyes shut, "Jacksoooon." And here I was thinking that I actually got through to him.

"Ya. Why are you so rude? Are we same age?" He playfully glares and barks, "Oppa. Oppa."

I groan again and glare at him, "Oppa!"

He smiles and nods, "That's better."

I whine and stomp my feet, "Ahh! But I don't need it! I still have job!"

"What?" Jackson snaps, "you haven't quit your job?"

"Uh, no duh? How else am I gonna get pocket money?" I say, knowing he'd understand the fact that not everyone accepts a black card. Also, it was empty.

"The how'd you pay for your taxi?"

"I borrowed money from Mark."

Jackson's eyes blew in shock. He mumbles lowly and raises his hands, "my sugar baby needs a part-time job and borrows money."

"Okay, listen," he starts, tapping his chest with his finger tips, "just let me do my thing." He, out of the blue, takes my hand and we continue walking. "I have to go back to work after this, but later I'll come pick you up because you need to meet my mom."

I nod slowly up heaing this, "Oh."

"And clearly now, you've made me realize this is two dates-"

"Jackson-"

"-shut up or I'll kiss you."

My jaw is left hanging.

Jackson turns to me and holds back a laugh, lips curling into a smirk.

"As I was saying, you have also pointed out that I really haven't being fair to you. Up, up, up-" he raises a hand and cuts me of before I could even begin. He lets go of my hand and links my arm with his. "Right. So, I've been used to having arrangements with women with excessive tastes that can blow off a million in one day. And more, who am I kidding. Which is why," he turns to me.

I turn to him and he smiles, "I'm letting you cash out."

"Cash... hold on, wha-- cash out?"

Jackson seems confused and knits his brows for a second, and then bursts into laughter when he realizes, "Oh, no. Not like end this. No way! I still need you." He tugs on my arm and pulls it to his chest, embracing it as if he meant it personally.

He giggles, "I mean like, I'll let you withdraw money."

I gasp and turn to him, "Oh my gosh, really?!"

"Yeah," he nods, "I mean you can only withdraw anything from that one bank, but yeah. You deserve that at least."

"Oh my gosh thank you!" I grin and pull away from him, only to be able to hug him tightly. I hold him for a few seconds and smile brightly when I let him go, "I could send my parents money. I could-- I could-- WOW!"

Jackson breaks into laughter.

"Okay, now, come on, I'll drive you home."

With that, Jackson and I retrace our steps and find our way back to the car. The men following us seem to have gone away, to which I am relieved. We walk hand in hand, and he's doing all the talking. I watch as he laughs and wonder how he could talk about such stories, like getting his foot stuck in the toilet one time when he was younger, and still look so poised and handsome.

Jackson is playful all the way to my apartment. It made me happy, as I remember the last time I drove with him, back when we went to a party, he was pretty glum.

"You shouldn't let them get to you too much, Jackson." I speak up after our conversation about whatever popped up into our heads.

Jackson knits his brows and spares me a glance, "What do you mean?"

"Remember last time, after going to the party? You were pretty quiet, and it was kinda concerning."

He doesn't reply for a moment. When he does, he speaks half-playfully, "you're concerned about me?"

"No duh, Wang-Wang. You've been nothing but kind to me, and I'm the type to take care and check up on my friends."

He nods his head, "Well... thank you for... the concern, but that wasn't why I was quiet on pur drive back. I couldn't give two shits about whatever those rich bozos think. I just want them out of my business, babe."

I knit my brows, "Huh. Then why were you?"

Jackson chuckles and pulls on the collar of his top. "It's kinda complicated.” He turns to me, then back to the road to chuckle, “To a point where I'm not even really sure yet about it. But, uh, for what it's worth, if I figure it out, I'll tell you."

I hum, "well, are you sure you can figure it out by yourself? Sometimes all it tales is to say it aloud, y'know."

Jackson turns to me and offers a smile, "I know. But I don't want this to become real, and I'm pretty sure if I say it aloud, it will."

"Oh... well, I get that."

Soon after, we arrived at my place. I turned to give Jackson a smile goodbye, but I was shocked when he moved in to give my cheek a kiss. He pressed his lips against skin, and I immediately felt the area burn, as if he was scorching hot. I’m glad I didn’t move yet, cause if I had moved any sooner, Jackson and I would've had to a disastrous lip lock--or teeth lock at that..

"Thank you for today," he says simply, close to my ear. I could smell his cologne.

My cheeks burn. Once he pulls away, I turn and gape at him for a second, "shouldn't I be the one saying that?"

He purses his lips and chuckles, "Not at all."

For a moment, I just sit there, not knowing where to look and where to place my hands. Jackson smiles, and proceeds to cackle. It’s pretty obvious that he is pleased with how obviously I'm affected.

I feel my face redden, but I can't help myself and growl. I shove him and glare, "Next time, a little warning will suffice."

The man across me seems baffled by my action and tenses up only to burst out laughing all giddy "Mianheeee."

He shuffles in his seat, “Before you go,” and pulls out his wallet, “here... pocket money.”

He pulls out all the cash in his wallet and my eyes widen. I raise my brows, “That won’t be necessary, oppa.”

He shoots me a look and grabs my hand, “Oppa thinks otherwise.”

“But you’ll be paying me later!” I protest, trying my best to to actually grab hold of the money. “You’re even going to let me cash out, so this is all unnecessary.”

Jackson huffed, “Consider this as a bonus.”

“I don’t want a bonus!”

“Well, you either take it... or... or else I won’t talk to you again.”

For a moment, I look at him with a dumbfounded expression. I ask, “You do know that is worse for you than it is for me right!”

“Ugh! Just take it! I don’t have any leverage! I never thought I’d ever have to force someone to get my money.” Jackson whines and shakes his body in annoyance. “Just take it!” he groans, “It’s not like it’s a bribe. Just use it to pay Mark.”

“That is way too--”

“TAKE IT!” he screams, successfully planting the money in my hand, as his shout took me off guard. I awkwardly look around and Jackson shakes his head expectantly. I purse my lips and fold the paper, shoving it to my pockets.

Jackson smiles in content and pats my head. I scoff. I proceed then to remove my seat belt.

He watches as I do so and then asks, "You want me to walk you?"

I shake my head, "Oh, no need. I can manage."

“You sure?”

I turn to him and nod, “I’m sure, Jackson.”

“Jackson oppa.”

I roll my eyes, “I never should’ve voluntarily called you that.”

He chuckles.

I exit the car and wave him off dismissively the moment I'm out. He waves goodbye and drives away.

By the time he's gone, Nari is running towards me like the fumbling mess she is. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, was that him?! I can't believe I missed him! GASH!"

I scowl at Nari and nudge her, "stop being such a loud mouth."

She huffs and turns to me, hands on her waist, "You have no clue how jelly I am."

I roll my eyes and walk inside. She follows quickly, "What are you gonna do about Jinyoung?"

I whip my head to her, "What about Jinyoung, Nari?"

"I mean, you have Jackson now! Jinyoung deserves to know."

"You say this, as if I like Jackson."

Nari looks mortified, "Bitch don't tell me you're gonna be like one of those dumb protagonists that's in denial and then has their world comes crashing down around them."

I scoff, "No, Nari, because I don't like Jackson-"

"bITCH-"

"-I like Jinyoung."

"... ...ohmygosh, did you actually say that aloud?"

I dismiss her, but her squealing and iron grip prevent me from getting away. "EEEEEK I KNEWITIKNEWITIKNEWITIKNEWITTTTTTTTT!"

"Shut up! You're gonna wake the dead," I hiss and cover her mouth, "Or even worse, Mrs. Kim. "

Literally, the moment I said that, there was a yapping old woman resounding curse words against the wall. Nari and I scrambled to hide from her wrath.

"YOU FUCKING KIDS, I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP WHEN JEOPARDY IS ON!"

Alright. Yes. We managed to survive the terror in apartment 16, which was why I managed to brush up on my studies and the drama I had in the sidelines waiting for me.

I leaned back in my cozy attire, with shorts and hoodie, stuffing popcorn in my face as Lee Minho beat Kim Woobin up, and vice versa.

I don't mean to sound like a brag, but damn, there really is a difference with the cheap cotton shorts and these freakin 10,000 dollar ones. Would I ever recommend these to a friend? Helllll no, but damn they're realllly soft.

"Moron your phone is blowing up in your room," Nari screams from her own room. I scramble to my feet, shit is that Jackson?

I push my popcorn off and run to my room. I see there's ten messages from Mark. I knit my brows.

STFU MARK: ok so i went to jinyoungs place

STFU MARK: i mean like at his job and the place is super packed and he looks super miserable i feel so bad i wanna help him woth the register

STFU MARK: Where are you even???? I swung by your place

STFU MARK: LOL RIGHT UR SUGAR BOYFI IS UR WITH HAHAHAH

STFU MARK: man this lady ordered ten burgers and i wish i could do that on the regular

STFU MARK: ok imma talk to jinyoung and order lunch too i hope he doesnt kill me cos if he does he'll lose his job too and i dont want that

STFU MARK: OKAY HE TOOK MY ORDER AND PRETENDED I WAS NO ONE BUT A CUSTOMER I DIE WHAT DID WE DO

STFU MARK: HE EVEN SMILED AT ME LIKE AN ACTUAL GENUINE PERSON HE LOOKS SO TIRED I FEEL SP BAD HELP MEEEEE GET OUT OF YOUR DATE RIGHT NOW

STFU MARK: ...... r u hetting paid again omg???? Also jinyoung wouldnt poison my food right

STFU MARK: I WANTED TO TALK TO JINYOUNG COS IT LOOKED LIKE HE WAS GONNA CLOCK OUT BUT YUGYEOM TOLD ME TO SCRAM WHAT IS THIS HE SAID JINYOUNG IS SUPER TIRED AND NOT IN THE MOOD

I wipe my forehead and cuss.

I give a quick reply to Mark, saying that I'll try to contact him. I then proceed to call Jinyoung. I call him five times before giving up and sending a text.

I open my conversation with Jinyoung and send three messages.

Me: Jinyoung

Me: i know like im legitimately dumb for not knowing what angered you, but mark and i arent mind readers

Me: please call me back and tell me whats wrong

I sigh and pull my phone to my chest. I walk back out to continue watching my show. My heart leaps out of my chest and I squeak when my phone starts vibrating. I smile widely when I realize it's Jinyoung calling. Except it's not. It's Jackson. He's gonna pick me up.

---

My feet is clad with a golden pump. My dress is cascading with hundreds of delicate white beads upon bright violet fabric. I feel like a dewy star with the glowy makeup all over my skin. My hair is pulled back to make room for a crown-like headband and curled perfectly behind me.

While Hani did my makeup, part of me wondered why I looked so dressed up, when, as far as I knew, I would only be meeting with Jackson's mom. But then I realized it was Jackson's mom; she was probably born drenched in gold. This probably looks pathetic to her.

Hani was so kind and so enthusiastic as per usual, and she made me look like a princess with her magical touch.

We didn't take as long as I hoped we would, for now I am holding onto Jackson's hand as we walk down this large lawn, lit with garden lights and lights from fountains. The sun had just set, and so the residual sunshine in the sky made it look both orange and lilac. On my other hand, I held a bouquet of violet flowers that strangely reminded me of the day I met Jackson.

As we drove here, I thought at first we were going to Jackson's house, or his parents, but as it turns, her mother is checked into some extra hotel.

Automatic doors opened, and a beefy but kind looking security guard greeted us, and Jackson by his name.

The place reeked the finesse of a museum. It was so large and spacious that I started thinking maybe it was a hidden museum of some sort. The minimal pieces of art make me think otherwise.

There were very few people going about, and most of them were wearing white.

I fell conscious after. Was this hotel themed in white? I moved closer to Jackson. The echoing of my heels against the marble floors only magnified my fumbling mind. Okay... maybe this wasn’t a hotel.

We walked and walked down this seemingly never ending hall, up until we reached room 19.

Jackson released my hand and turned to me. Clearing his throat, he asked, "How do I look?"

He looked like a billionaire. His body was given complete justice in his velvet suit that matched the color of my violet dress. His shoes were shiner than my future. His skin was more flawless than my grades. Jackson looked like he always did, handsome and charming. But his big brown eye seemed nervous.

"You look amazing, like always," I offer with a smile.

Jackson lets put a soft sigh, "I'm glad you think I always look amazing."

I nod at him, not because I agreed but because he seemed like he had something much more to say. Though he was trying to play off this worry by joking, it was too clear he was worried.

He inhales sharply. "You may hate me for not telling you sooner, but..." Jackson points to the door of room 19 and screws his eyes shut.

I bit my lower lip and think about what Jackson could tell me next. He was agitated. This place makes him agitated. Well, everyone here is wearing white. Everything is quiet and spacious. His mom was staying here. I don’t think it’s a hotel anymore. Was this a spa? A wellness center?

... or was this a clinic? A hospital?

Why didn’t I just ask?

"The main reason why... I hired you is because of my mom." Jackson turns to his side then back to me, "She's... not doing so great. Not in a long time."

My jaw slacks once I realize my guess was right, "Your mom is sick?"

He sighs, "terminally ill if you need the right term."

"And... you want her to think... we're together?"

Jackson purses his lips, "It's all she wants from me now.”

A shiver runs down my spine. I clench my bouquet. Part of me can't help but feel betrayed. He had all these chances from then til now to speak up but he was nothing but silent. All Jackson told me I was here to push away his nosy relatives. I huff in frustration. Really though I was here to lie to a dying lady.

I scoff at my own thoughts.

That very thought made my heart clench.

How hard must it be for Jackson to talk about this?

I want to wipe my face so badly, but I didn't want to ruin Hani's hard work.

"How could you only tell me this now?!" I heave sharply. "Do you know how wrong and messed up this is?"

"I know, I know," Jackson sighs. He takes a step forward and grabs both my hands, pushing the bouquet in the middle, "but please, you're my only hope. You're the only woman I've ever brought to my mom." He closes his eyes and raises his hands, shaking it around, "It's not as bad as it is. I made her think that I'm still pursuing you and so you're not really my girlfriend."

I knit my brows at that. Jackson steps even closer, "then I'll say it didn't work out because you like Jinyoung from..." he thinks and scoffs, "your Algebra--business math class."

His mention of Jinyoung makes me chest contract. I look at our hands then Jackson's expression. The flowers seemed a lot less pretty to me now. I wonder what they think about my predicament.

"Please, you are honestly innocent in all this. No matter what happens it's on me. Please. My mother doesn't get to meet new people. You won't even have to say anything, I'll do all the talking."

I want to throw the flowers at him and run away. But I don't.

I want to tell him all the reasons why this so called solution of his isn't a solution. But I don't.

I want to offer his comfort and give him another way. But I can't, cause it would take too much time and the clock, I can feel it ticking.

So what I do say is, "alright."

Jackson's face brightens. He repeats, "Alright," and with that wastes not time in going inside.

"Finally!" a voice exclaims into the high ceiling. There is a large bed with a woman in the center. “I thought you’d never come.”

Jackson, hand holding mine, walked towards the woman and smiled, “Mama. I’m sorry we’re late.”

Once we’re close enough, Jackson lets go of me to hug and kiss the woman on the cheek. I was close enough to see how pale and dry her skin was. She was thin and had her thin hair combed behind her. It was plain to see that she really was sick. But the way she smiled and greeted her son, made you think otherwise.

Jackson pulls away and turns to me. Her mother does the same. I take this moment to give her the flowers, “Mrs. Wang.”

“Oh, are these for me? Thank you so much, darling.” She smiles ear to ear and gets the bouquet from me. “You may be wondering why you were forced into violet. Well, it’s my favorite color.”

I nod, “Jackson told me that.” At the very least.

“Have you eaten, mama?” Jackson asks as he sits next to his mother.

“You silly boy. You know I don’t have an appetite at night.”

Jackson narrows his eyes and shakes his head, “Mama... the nurses told me you had an apple for lunch.

“Kure, an apple a day keeps the doctor away,” she speaks in a light tone. Jackson breathes in heavily, clenching his jaw. He looks like he wants to go off, but at the same time, he looks really tired, like he doesn’t want to have this conversation again. And so I frown deeply.

“Mrs. Wang, you should really eat more than that... Jackson is really worried about you.” I speak for the upset man.

His mother turns to me and beams, “Ya, has Jackson been talking about me. That’s a first. Honestly, I still can’t believe your here! My Jackson always claims to have a girlfriend, but this time around... he really does.”

“Mama... she’s not my girlfriend, I told you.”

“Aiya!” she says, “you should try harder, then!” The woman gives her son a scolding look, then turns to me in a completely different manner, “Mianhe... ... My brother told me he had his men follow you to see how real you are just earlier today. I’m really sorry about that.”

“Mama,” Jackson says slowly.

She tuts her son. With a breath, she looks at me, “Oh, why are you still standing, please sit on my bed. It’s quite big enough for all three of us.”

With this I smile, nod, and sit down. She then slides to the far left side of the bed, where Jackson sat facing me. Mrs. Wang pulls me by my arm, and so I hop over to come closer to her.

Her hand is still on my arm when she pouts into a pleased smile, “You are far more beautiful than Jackson let on.”

My brows raise and my lips pull into an awkward smile. I nervously laugh and shake my head. She shakes her head too, “He won’t shut up about you!”

“Mama,” Jackson says, placing his hand on his mothers, releasing her grip from me, “That’s because you keep asking me about her.”

“Well how can I not, child! The most exciting thing that happens around here is when a new patient comes along and that’s horrible to think of considering this place is a hospital.”

Jackson once again feels and looks so defeated.

“Mrs. Wang,” I say to divert her attention.

“Oh, please, call me Mama. All of Jackson’s friends do that.”

I clear my throat and turn to Jackson for a split second. Nevertheless, I obey, “Mama... do you happen to watch k-dramas?”

Both Wangs seem to be surprised by my sudden question.

“Why of course! What else am I to do but watch all those dramas?” she chuckles.

“Did you happen to watch The Heirs?”

She gasps, “Of course I did! Lee Minho and--”

“Kim Woobin!” I squeal. “Ooooh, he is so good looking and I wanted him to get the girl so bad!!!!!”

Jackson pulls his head back at my words. Da hell is Kim Woobin? His mother laughs in glee. Once she catches he breath, she begins to fuel our talk. From then on, we begin our long conversation about wanting ‘the other’ love interest get the girl in the story. It escalates and the next thing Jackson knows he’s no longer part of the conversation, nor existent in the room.

He watches as the two women interact and laugh, making his heart clench. Mama had neither been this talkative nor cheery since Bambam visited and got drunk on champagne, and that was months ago.

I throw my head back in laughter. Jackson can’t help but laugh as well, even though he honestly didn’t follow the conversation anymore.

Mrs. Wang turns to his son and smiles, seeing how concentrated he was in the one thing in the room. She nudges him, and Jackson panics, turning to his mother with wide eyes.

Catching this, I settle down and turn to Jackson’s nervous expression. His mother breaks into a soft laugh. I knit my brows, “What happened?”

Jackson turns to me then to his mom. The latter speaks up, “Oh. Jackson’s just really lucky to have you that’s all.”

Part of me expected Jackson to whine in protest again. But when there’s only silence among us, I feel awkwardness envelope me.

Mrs. Wang coos and caresses her son’s cheeks, “Your handsomeness won’t be put to waste.” She then turns to me and pinches my cheeks, “You’ll have beautiful children.”

My cheeks immediately burn upon hearing this.

Jackson breath hitches when he sees my reaction. I turn to him and gives me an awkward smile.

Jackson scratches he back of his nape when it dawns to him that he is utterly fucked. Why? Because he likes the idea his mom presented. The man mutters a curse word under his breath and stands, “How about we get some food, yeah?”

38 notes · View notes

thereluctantinquisitor · 5 years

Note

mentor/mentee bonding or long, tight reunion hugs after a long separation if you're taking some of those prompts from the list!

Mentor/Mentee bonding it is! Featuring Delver and Sylda from my original work…

As far as inn rooms go, it wasn’t the worst they’d ever stumbled into. A quick assessment of the floor and ceiling revealed no obviously damp spots. The beds, while threadbare, seemed clean enough. Even a candle, thick and melted at the base, burned with quiet determination on the windowsill. Coupled with the fading daylight, it shed just enough brightness to provide comfort without revealing the more unseemly details of the room. Delver was perfectly content with that. Ignorance could be bliss when you were tired enough.

“You know, if you want a hand with that, all you need to do is ask.”

The stool creaked beneath him as Delver fired Sylda a sharp look from the corner of his eye. The only think keeping him from firing back a reply was the tie held between his pursed lips, the coarse fabric nearing its final breaking point. He’d probably get another few days out of it, if he was careful. And a little lucky.

Not that luck had been on his side, lately. Something told him he’d used it all up back in Yelen.

Huffing, Delver’s nose crinkled as he tried to card his hair back away from his face. Yes, it was knotted and miserable and road-worn, but gods above he wished he’d just left it how it was. Some ancient and habitual part of his brain had apparently decided that retying his hair went hand-in-hand with removing his boots, so now there he was, bare-foot and simmering in his own stupidity. Divider’s sake, he was a cipher, owner of one of humanity’s most complex and unexplainable minds! Yet, somehow, it managed to forget his entire right hand had recently been used as a rakhund’s chew toy and was about as useless as any other slab of meat.

Soon, his frustrated grunts morphed into a growled curse as he tried to wrestle his hair out of his face. Over the other side of the small room, Sylda had taken up position leaning against the wall, cross-legged, observing him from atop her bed like a bored courtier waiting for the entertainment to begin. Ignoring her was almost as hard as maneuvering his bandaged hand.

“… You still sure you’re fine?” she asked after a particularly frustrated grunt. “At this rate, you’ll be at it all night. No offense, but you need your beauty sleep a lot more than I do.”

“I’m sure,” Delver snapped, then jolted as the tie fell from his mouth. Pure instinct took over once more as he tried to grab it. The movement was as sudden as it was stupid, and in a split-second it was like someone had stabbed a knife straight through his palm. Delver cursed in some language or another - he didn’t really care - and grabbed his wrist. It was as though he hoped pressure could somehow stop the fire from shooting down his arm. Fuck, it had been days since that damn animal had decided it wanted a piece of him - when was it going to stop feeling like a fresh wound?

As usual, Sylda’s knack for moving around without making a whisper of sound nearly shocked Delver into an early grave. He jolted as she plopped down in front of him, crouching for lack of a second stool. Only this time there was something different in her brown eyes. Something not entirely stubborn.

“Would you just say ‘yes’ already and put us both out of our misery?” She nodded pointedly at his hand. The bandage was starting to turn. “You’re hurt and I don’t mind, so why not just let me do it?”

“I don’t need—”

“—Just give me the damn tie, Delver.”

Suddenly, there it was. The thing that was different. It wasn’t a new emotion, but rather the absence of an old one. Her usual teasing was… gone. Not sure what to make of that, Delver actually relented, his curiosity momentarily outweighing his pride. For as long as he’d known her, Sylda had hidden everything behind tactless and ill-timed humour; practically driven him mad with it. In fact, the only time he had seen it utterly absent was when she’d been hanging from the gallows in Yelen. This hardly seemed a comparative scenario.

She snatched the tie with a look that screamed thank you in the most exasperate way possible, then moved behind him. Delver turned, trying to follow her with his eyes, but the next thing he knew her hands were in his hair, tugging his head forward sharper than was strictly necessary.

“Still don’t trust me, huh?”

Delver closed his eyes. Damn it. “It’s not that.”

“I dunno. Kinda feels like it is.”

“If you wanted to slit my throat, I assume you would have done it by now. We’ve been on the road long enough.”

Sylda’s fingers paused their journey along his scalp as she considered the proposal. “True,” she conceded after a moment. Her hands resumed, catching the dull copper locks of Delver’s hair, scooping them back. Divider, it was a mercy to have it off his face again; like he could breathe easy. “Why so tense, then?” she continued. “You’d think I was torturing you, but here I am, gentle as a spring-born lamb.”

“Hm. Unnatural for you.”

“Oh, deeply. So I’d appreciate a little more relaxing on your part, if you wouldn’t mind.”

A chuckle broke past Delver’s exhausted defenses. “I’ll try. But I make no promises.”

“Does it hurt?” Her question came so suddenly that it caught Delver by surprise. It was also what gave him the impression that she had been sitting with it for a while, trying to decide the best time to ask it. Naturally, she missed the mark by a good mile or so. Glancing down, he released he was still gripping his wrist tight enough to cut the circulation to his hand.

“It’ll heal, in time.” Stiffly, he uncurled his fingers, wincing at the red marks he had left on his own skin. While he was no stranger to injury, he had to admit, this was the first time he’d been mauled by… well, anything.

He hoped he tasted as shitty as he felt.

“That’s not what I asked.” Her hands move again at the back of his head; a new pattern this time. “But I guess it was probably a stupid question, so…”

As she trailed off, all Delver could muster was a hum of agreement that ebbed away just as quickly into the waiting silence. The candle flickered madly, caught in a gentle breeze, and suddenly all Delver wanted was a meal, a drink, and a long night’s rest. Divider, he wanted it so badly he could feel it like a pressure in his chest. It was almost irrational. Painful. Childish, even.

“Why’d you do it?”

Sylda, having completed her task while Delver momentarily recessed into childhood, was now in front of him again, fixing him with that expectant, matronly look she got when she wasn’t in the mood to argue. At first, Delver wasn’t sure what she was talking about, until her eyes flicked pointedly to his hand again. As soon as she did, he sighed.

“Leave it be, Sylda.”

“No.”

“Just… go downstairs and grab whatever’s left from supper. Before the innkeep tosses it to the pigs.”

“Sure. Once you answer me.” She folded her arms, and there it was. That stubbornness again. It hardened her gaze to stone. It was the reason she drove him halfway mad. It was the reason he knew she would do great things, some day. If he did his part properly, that is.

It always seemed to come back to that.

Delver heaved a sigh that carried the weight of generations. “The fucking thing was about to pounce on you, Sylda. Was I just meant to let it?”

“You could have.”

“Really? Well go ahead and add it to the long list of things that make be an idiot, then.” It was hard to look at her, all of a sudden. “Listen, I’m the one dragging you across the damn continent. Just let me play the hero for once and stop badgering me about it.”

“Hero? More like the fool.” The words themselves were harsh, but the way she spoke them somehow… wasn’t. They almost seemed to sigh out of her, and she slumped down on the edge of the bed. “Just don’t do it again, okay? I can take care of myself.”

Delver snorted, shaking his head. “Fine.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know. What I don’t understand is why you think you need to tell me.” He finally looked up and met her startled gaze. “Sylda, listen… I have no idea what you’re capable of, and frankly neither do you. But sometimes you just get hit by a bout of bad luck and skill has nothing to do with it. I’m not interested in letting some rakhund rip your throat out because you just happened to be looking in the wrong direction.” He paused, fighting the urge to clench his fist, then added, “And judging by the way you gutted the damn thing with that pocket-knife of yours, you feel the same way. So let’s just call it what it is.”

“Fuck you, it’s not a pocket knife.” While she spoke, she folded her arms. Wary. Guarded. “And what are we calling it, exactly?”

“Responsibility.” Grimacing, Delver hauled himself off the stool, rolling his shoulders. Funny, how the stiffness of spending too many days walking only ever seemed to catch up to him once he stopped. “When you travel with someone, you watch their backs. It doesn’t matter who takes the hit, and no one owes anyone anything. That’s just how it is. So enough with the coddling and questions.” He huffed, shaking his head as he rifled through his pack. “Divider willing, you’ll be folding my bloody socks before long.”

“Yeah, over my dead body.” It was almost a relief, to see her grin and hop off the bed with almost twice the energy than what she’d shown before. “Alright, fine. Have it your way. Can’t say I’m against the idea of not owing you anything.”

“Yes. I thought you mightn’t be.” As much as Delver fought to maintain a believable level of exasperation, it was hard to keep the smirk off his face. “Now go and get that food before we both pass out for the night. Should be a few coins left over.”

“Alright, alright. Keep your hair on.”

Maybe it was the way she said it. Maybe it was some other instinct entirely. But as Sylda snatched the coin pouch off the bed and headed for the door, Delver finally took a moment to reach towards the back of his head.

“Sylda?”

“Hmm?”

“Is that a fucking braid?”

#frenchy-and-the-sea #i think i rewrote this like 4 times and i give up lol #it is what it is #stonebreaker #delver #sylda #reluctant writes #reluctant replies #isnt it so annoying when you have a scene in your head and then it just comes out like garbage?#ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #i tried #thank you for the prompt <3

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jay-cult · 5 years

Text

Homecoming

Aka, SJ finally makes a movie fic.

Have this little 1200 word oneshot that was inspired by my life currently! I’m in a crisis that’s for sure. Anyway, enjoy :3

Totally PG and also there’s Jaya in it as usual so heads up.

Homecoming

god, I’m done for>

<f dude

Jay put down his phone and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t believe it; junior year of high school had already sprung upon him like a pouncing leopard. Just yesterday he must have been a bumbling freshman, papers flying, late classes he felt like disappearing away from.

But that was, after all, a good thing… it wasn’t exactly why he was headfirst in a problem... the biggest problem ever in his life.

The phone face down on the bed he was sitting on buzzed. Picking it up, he stared at the notifications.

<idk man. we can try to help

<yea

He sighed. Cole and Lloyd were nice to say the least. But Jay was sure that nobody he was good friends with had any experience with girls besides Kai, and well. He’d be sent to hell by the red ninja himself if Kai ever found out about his “motives.” Zane wasn’t much of an option either, since he had a hard time understanding how to talk to even close friends.

Jay laid down fully clothed on the top of his bed, staring at the ceiling. He reached to his desk and for the hundredth time that day double checked if maybe this time, the paper seemed okay enough to give.

Jay grabbed the paper and read it over again.

“Hey there Nya! It’s me, your cool friend Jay :3 you’re going to the homecoming dance right? Don’t suppose you have a date? If not we should go together! Please give this back with an answer :)”

Jay picked up a pencil from his desk and reluctantly erased together. It made it sound a lot cheesier than he had intended.

He still decided it wasn’t good enough, and smacked it back onto his desk.

ill see what i can do tomorrow. after that ill need a FULL advice session>

He looked at the clock. 10:30 pm often marked the time for a sleep attempt before a school day began. Maybe he could get away from this nightmare for a few hours.

Jay downed the last few sips of his coffee and bolted out the front door. If he didn’t leave now, traffic would envelop him like a swarm of wasps. His backpack bounced on his back as he ran to his bike, his scarf flying in the wind.

“Have a nice day at school honey!” He heard a shout from the door.

“I-I will, Mom!”

He climbed onto his bike at lightning speed. Multiple times in the past he had asked his mom why he wasn’t driven to school or took the bus; every time the answer was “You need your exercise to grow up big and strong!” He thought about the computer sitting on his desk that held a much-procrastinated driving course as he sped out of the driveway and into the fray of the road, helmetless.

Minutes later he pulled his bike into the rack, panting. He was early enough to calm down. Jay wearily like so many repeated times before walked up the steps into the school building, going through the assignments that were due in his head for the fourth time that morning.

The school was in its one-week-before-a-dance state. Naturally, it was full of idiots, chatterboxes, and nervous wrecks that were even more active than during finals. He walked down the halls into his first class.

He looked down one hall and saw a sophomore boy in glasses strumming a guitar and looking up at a brown-haired girl, singing a home-posal. “You’re tall and white and pretty, you’re really really skinny…” he sang.

Yeesh, I don’t even wanna know what’s going on over there, Jay thought.

Classes went by in the slowest fashion ever. He saw a friend in them here and there. Finally, the lunch bell gave its holy ring, and he slung his backpack over his shoulder and drowsily snuck out of class.

He saw Kai and Nya casually hanging out together in a corner, probably waiting to meet up with their other friends. Before he knew it, his body was turning in their direction, going Mission: executed mode.

“Hhey, you guys!” He smiled nervously, beginning to shake a bit. Nya raised a hand and smiled. Kai looked at him with what was probably pity.

Nya was typing away at her phone. Jay wasn’t sure what for.

“So it’s just wild that we’re juniors now, huh?” What am I doing?!

Kai nodded. Nya looked up. “Yeah, that’s so crazy! It doesn’t feel like it at all.”

Her eyes gave him a warm welcome before darting back to her phone again. It made him shake a little more.

“Yeah, and th-the dance is coming up and all and…. I dunno… we’re so old now, I think yknow, it’s time for me at least to make the most of it. I-I kinda want a date, haha! Just because we’re older and all and I don’t wanna waste the dances. And all.”

Nya stayed in silence, an uninterpretable silence.

Uh oh. ABORT MISSION. ABORT.

Kai looked up at Jay with a look that definitely spelled disappointment. “Like the homecoming dance?”

Jay stared down at his own feet. “Uh, yeah.”

That’s it, I’m outta here.

“I’ve got a teacher I have to practice work with,” he lied. He waved goodbye and walked away a little too quickly.

Not saying he hid in the bathroom for the rest of lunch, but he totally hid in the bathroom for the rest of lunch.

The rest of the day was even slower, and as Jay finally slid off his bike like jelly and unlocked the front door to his house, he was mumbling to himself, “Yeah, that’s it, I give up, not like she even would say yes anyway, it’s better to just leave the situation alone.”

The door creaked open and Jay was suddenly looking into the faces of four disappointed teenagers. Even Zane was peeking out the doorway with an obviously sad face. Jay looked up and was staring into the eyes of the tiger on the face of the lion. Kai.

Run.

Jay whipped around and started bolting across the street without giving a second thought to look for cars, but a robotic arm extended and grabbed him by the back of his shirt. It pulled him in swiftly, and the door slammed behind him. Jay was released and fell flat on the floor, his keys sliding across the wood.

He sat up, rubbing his head and staring again at Kai. “...It’s not what it looks like?”

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Kai sighed, his palm on his forehead.

Zane smiled and took up a chipper voice. “Dude. That was just sad!”

“The face doesn’t really help, Zane,” Jay said.

Cole and Lloyd looked at each other somewhat guiltily. “It’s ok Jay!” Lloyd smiled reassuringly. “Plus it wasn’t even my idea so haha don’t be mad at me! Ow!”

Cole had smacked him on the back, signifying he should get silent.

“You have a lot to learn about my sister,” Kai looked at Jay. He reached out a hand to the blue lump on the floor and smiled.

#tlnm #ninjago #jay #movie!jay #jaya

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