Tumgik
#if dick had more than golden retriever which in my mind he never was
starlooove · 11 months
Text
I hate that I hate WFA bc it could be so much fun. Slice of life batfam is such a funny concept to me but. Alas.
#like if slice of life batfam kept them even remotely in character?#like obviously I think having the tropes is fun and all but like#if tim had more personality than snarky coffee addict#if dick had more than golden retriever which in my mind he never was#not as nightwing anyways#I’m a NTT truther tho so whatever#and they weren’t so fucking racist towards Duke and Damian like fuck#tbh they can even be outta character ID take the bare minimum of them not being treated like animals#like Duke being the straight man to the cast is fucking crazy#and Damian being treated like he’s 3 seconds away from biting someone?#fuck you#damn im too mad to keep talking#…#y’all know better than to believe that 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣#anyways#the problem besides this is that they’re tryna WFA-ify the main story too#keep it tragic and mean bro#WFA is fun in comparison bc the main story is so fucked#which is what I dislike about ppl saying to make them some happy go lucky family in main#Like bro Bruce was brutal to Jason in GW but I’m not like. surprised#the only way you’d be surprised is if you read WFA and nothing else like damn#but also it’s like. I have severely lost the plot omg. my train of thought…#RIGHT can we stop tryna make the main story happy family arc where they fight over stupid shit make up and then fight crime#like nothing ever lasts long bro#I need lasting consequences#and lemme be fair this isn’t a recent thing or because of WFA and even if u go way back the same shit happens#but like now it feels like fans WANT happy communicative quirky batfam#but also that could be Twitter influence#anyways lemme stay on track WFA would be fun if it was accurate and actually different from the story#main comics being written like WFA but with gore? I’d kms aorry
2 notes · View notes
evansbby · 8 months
Note
This is gonna be so long i am so sorry but i’ve been reading WG3 all throughout the day, at work, on the street and as i ate my lunch so its been all on my mind for HOURS now and i have to SCREAM about it somewhere 🤷‍♀️
First things first… Wanda, bestie, is currently in, what i’ve coincidently learned recently is called, the ✨dick sand✨ its where you lose touch of reality and friends and everything that actually matters and just fall for a guy like a fucking idiot falling into quick sand, so yeah we definitely hate this version of Wanda but i shan’t judge until Curtis like cheats on her or something, which he will, and she’s left a sobbing mess being dragged out of the ✨dick sand✨
Also… we still have yet to see her handle reader in this fragile state and if she keeps ditching her for Curtis while she’s this distraught… you must kill her off please and thank you 😌
I understand that its more convenient for the plot for reader to forget about what happened in the ride back home with Steve but like she remembered being fucked in front of everyone by Ari while being most high and drunk! I’ve never been drunk before so i dont know if the haze intensifies as the liquor runs through ones’ veins but like i just hated that for her because it could have saved her but like i said it is essential for the plot i guess so i’ll just shut up about it 🥲
I LOVE how it all started with Ari forcing himself on reader and ended it with Steve doing the same thing and how the difference in her reactions was stark, depending on the dickhead, her feelings towards each one and just like the actual way they did the forcing! And i cannot believe that i am team Ari now! Like you’re really about to convert so many of us to Ari stans after this because Steve is a fucking monster and also you should definitely kill him off as well please and thank you 😌
Thank you for giving us a fragile and submissive reader who got to actually speak up and say no for once before all hell broke loose.. well.. looser 😅 with poyt, Omega was seriously pushed to her most extreme edge before falling over and just saying enough and even the way she said it was more to herself than to Steve tbh so this was a lovely change and i am grateful for it so thank you bestie 💜
Fucking Sharon! I can’t believe you made her nice and sweet! That is so genius of you but like also diabolical 😈 it’s like you had an angst bingo card and you’re just FEROCIOUSLY going for the win 😂
The ball hitting reader was just *chef’s kiss* and its just perfect for me cause this was such a classic romcom moment and then having Ari scoop her up and take care of her is also another classic romcom move and i love you so much for it! God you’re so talented im gonna cry 😭
Speaking of the scoop, Ari felt fast for reader, huh? Did not think he would fold so damn fast! I mean i understand your assholes tend to have a heart hidden deep deep DEEP within them that ends up beating hard for your readers but i thought this one would take longer so i am definitely pleasantly surprised i must say 🤭
Now for The Beef… i think Kira has to do with it. That kind of hostility between boys almost always circles back to a girl they fought over or like a sister that got burned lol but like also let me congratulate you on your stunning talent to make me hate Steve Rogers’ guts and to make him the WORST human being ever when his image is that of a golden retriever. Kudos bestie you have done what no one has ever been able to do which is break us essentially but we love it 💋
I can’t wait to hear Steve’s backstory about when he was hospitalized for his anger issues btw i’m holding my breath for that one cause neglectful parents 🤝 angry and confused child is very relatable to me and representation matters 👍
“I broke up with her.” is like singlehandedly the most powerful phrase i’ve read in a fanfic in a long time because the timing, Ari saying it and the way he chose to say it are all just so incredibly and perfectly woven together to create the best plot twist EVER! Again with the genius and the talent and the you’re the goat shenanigans 🙂
I love the questions at the end cause its such a clever way to engage with your readers and honestly you are one of the best fanfic writers in this fandom at that! Your blog is honestly just the best place to hang out and just have the best of fun like we’re all just this insane group of besties who keep fighting over Ari’s 13 inch dick (when soft) and spewing hatred in the ugly and icky face of Andy Barfer lol
I’m so sorry this is long but i’ve made a promise to myself that i would read every review for this chapter since i never did it for any of the previous ones or ever for poyt cause i have the attentions span of a snail so i just took liberty and just talked my ass off to kinda compensate for all the reading imma be doing lol
Anyway, in case it aint obvious yet, loved the chapter to death. Love you to death. Forever grateful for all that you give us. You feed us so well, mother, we are so chubby and cute just like little Rosie 😘😘😘😘
Yep, Wanda is definitely in dick sand right now! I love that hahaha, it fits perfectly.
And it’s not uncommon for people to remember only bits and pieces when they were drunk. When the Ari stuff happened, she had just drank. When the Steve stuff happened later, she was fully gone lmao. Like when I’ve gone on nights out, there have been times where I remember the beginning of the night but then have no recollection of anything else until the very end. And other times I remember everything! So it all just depends.
Also I didn’t really think you guys would think Steve was a monster 🤔😂 Like, as you said, they BOTH forced themselves on her. But the one who stopped and apologised is the monster and not the one who clearly didn’t stop? That’s soooo interesting to me mwahahah, but I didn’t see this reaction coming from yall but it seems to be the popular one! Tbh they’re both fucking monsters bahahaha but it’s called wicked games for a reason! 🤭🤭 also I think reader’s reaction to Steve in his bedroom was BECAUSE of her past experiences with Ari!! It made her wiser to the fuckboyness of boys hehehe and wary too!
Also hahaha I am so happy you appreciate the questions at the end tbh i do the questions at the end bc i remember a lot of writers doing it on 1dff (the 1d fanfic site) back in like 2014 lol and even I did it when I wrote a fic there! It’s bc whenever I finish a fic im so frazzled bc I’ve taken in so much info so all I can do as a review is a keyboard smash so the questions are a good way for me to gather my thoughts so I thought it would be the same for you guys!
Thank you so much for reading and leaving such a wonderful review bestie! I love you sm 🩷🥹 Now let’s see if Ari truly lives up things bc he has a lot more people in his corner this time around hehehe
ANDNSJXJSJA CHUBBY AND CUTE ROSIE DIDNSKSK I FORGOT ABOUT HER 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
5 notes · View notes
mourntheantagonist · 3 years
Note
Smut prompt!!! ( from your recent post!)
Billy has a thing for being held down. He’s been pushing steve around the school all day, trying to get a rise out of him and it WORKS- It starts out hostilely but turns into something much steamier ending in the blonde being fucked.
ABSOLUTELY!! ABSO-FUCKIN-LUTELY!!
cw: rough sex
***
“From here on out you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?”
He said yes. He said he understood. But did he really?
What Billy understood of Max’s demands, was really just what she meant. She meant for him to keep his fists to himself, not to hurt any one of them, including Steve, and that, he understood that. But what Billy needed was for Steve to hit him. He needed for him to fucking fight back, throw another punch his way to level out the playing field. He needed for Steve to break his nose, split his lip, just do fucking something other than hang his head low and continue to avoid him like the goddamn plague.
So Billy didn’t leave him alone like Max had demanded. He teased, he pushed his buttons, he fouled him during basketball practice and shut off his shower head, he hid his gym clothes and stole his towel off the rack. Anything to just get a rise out of him.
But Steve just takes it. He never does anything more than roll his eyes and say “Hargrove” like it’s a slur. But Billy can also see how he’s beginning to wear Steve down, little by little, getting closer and closer to fucking exploding.
Until he does. After an entire scrimmage game where Billy fouled Steve enough times that he was ejected, followed up by an already pissed off Steve having his towel ripped from the rack for probably the fifteenth time that month. Steve had had enough, and promptly pushed Billy up against the shower walls with more force than he would have anticipated. Steve took him by the wrists and shoved a knee into the back of his thigh until Billy was fully pinned to the wall and completely immobilized.
“Cut that shit out Hargrove.” Steve said, in a low and husky voice directly into his ear, the heat of his breath making the inside of Billy’s head buzz. The bones in Steve palms dug deep into Billy’s wrists, and when he let go, Billy nearly fell to the floor. His legs felt like jelly and he refused to turn around from where he was facing the wall as everyone crowded around and laughed, congratulating a Steve who pushed past everyone after retrieving his stolen towel. Meanwhile, Billy’s still not turning around until all of the other guys have scattered away.
Because he’s fucking hard.
He could still feel Steve’s hands on his wrists on the drive back home, red all around the circumference. He could still smell him, all up in his space pressing his entire weight into the wall leaving him completely motionless. He needed more. He needed that again.
So he kept pushing. He kept pushing despite Steve’s warnings, because to Billy, it was a fucking promise.
Except this time around it was different, because he tried to do it when no one else was around. He fucked with the shower head just enough so that it was just the two of them left to occupy the boys locker room after hours. Naked, dripping wet, horny…
And Steve, absolutely fired up.
“Don’t think I won’t do it again asshole.” Steve said as he dried himself off with a towel, still undressed, and Billy didn't know where he got the nerve to steal a look so obviously at the brunette as he toweled off his hips, biting his lower lip. That was just the first step in a series of bold, and honestly, stupid moves out of Billy, because next thing he knew he had one hand latched on to Steve’s towel.
“Don’t think I don’t want you to.”
You could hear a pin drop to the floor with just how silent the room got. Steve just stared at Billy who still had his hand firmly gripping the corner of the towel, waiting for Steve to give, to let up on his own grip just enough for Billy to yank it from his possession and drop it to the floor.
Steve was still, unmoving, and the awkward silence was deafening, so after already sealing his fate, he said what he wanted, made it clear.
“Pin me. Take whatever you want from me.” Billy said, tugging on the towel a little harder, but Steve’s grip that hadn’t given.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Steve’s eyes were narrowing in on him, like maybe, just maybe, Billy struck a bit of a nerve.
Billy tugged on the towel again. “Pin me up against those lockers.”
Steve tugged back.
“Yeah? Then what?” Steve asked.
Billy tugged again. “Punch me...” Steve tugged back, but Billy tugged again, harder. “Fuck me…”
Steve let go, and the towel fell to the floor in slow motion, all dramatic like it was straight out of a movie scene. Billy moved to close the distance between them a little more, chests nearly touching and each other’s breaths able to be felt on their faces. “Whatever you want.”
Not a second passed before Billy found his cheek smashed up against the door of his locker and Steve’s entire naked body up against his back. They were pressed so close together that he could feel Steve’s heart as it beat through his chest, along with his shaky breathing, right in his ear. Steve’s hands were back at his wrists in the same exact spot they were the last time, pressing them firmly into the locker, almost hard enough it might leave a small dent in the metal.
Steve was clearly hesitant, his hands still firmly placed where they were, and his breathing only growing more uneven. Billy might have thought Steve might choose the “punch me” option if it weren’t for the fact that his dick was right up against his ass, clearly just as excited as he was. Steve was still nervous, and all that meant was that he just needed a little bit more encouraging taunting.
“Go ahead pretty boy, fuck me like you hate me.”
That was enough for Steve’s hands to finally move, to trail down the length of his arms and down his back with the same bruising force the whole way down, like a deep tissue massage that he’d surely still feel later on.
Steve’s hands trailed all the way down to his ass where he squeezed hard, let out a heavy breath, and paused right there, cupping his cheeks and spreading them apart.
“Fuck,” Steve swears, “what the fuck are we doing?!” Steve slams his fist against the lockers hard, the sound of metal echoing off the tile walls and the vibrations buzzing in Billy’s head.
Billy laughed. “My duffel. Condom, lube, it’s all in there…”
Steve gives Billy a good push into the lockers before walking over to the duffel on the floor and pulling the two aforementioned items out of the bag’s side pocket. He held up the golden foil and small bottle of aloe vera and just stared at them.
“Did you come prepared for this?” Steve asked, it was an accusation.
“This was the plan all along pretty boy, let’s just say I was hopeful.” Billy said as he shifted his feet on the floor so his legs were spread further. “Now quit fucking stalling!”
Steve made his way back over and without warning, introduced an aloe coated finger to his hole that slipped right in, but Billy still gasped.
“Hurry up Harrington! I’m already stretched and ready, fuck me with your dick!” Billy snarled, and threw his hips backwards into Steve.
Steve skipped over a second finger and went straight up to three, while with the help of his free hand and his teeth, he opened up the condom and slipped it over his cock.
“Are you sure?” Steve asked, but it was quickly followed by another slam on the locker doors, this time from Billy.
“Quit treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!” Billy shouted, “Hold me down and take what you fucking want!”
Almost instantly, Billy was pushed right back into the wall of lockers and Steve’s fingers had abruptly left their place from inside of him, leaving him with an empty feeling that was quickly relieved by the feeling of something much larger right at his entrance.
Steve’s hands were on him, but they were hardly applying any force, Billy could easily slip through it and that was the exact opposite of what he wanted from him.
“Hold me down while you fuck me!”
Steve responded to that by finally thrusting inside of him and pushing his hands even deeper into his shoulder blades. Billy let out a short moan upon impact, but still wriggled his body unsatisfied.
“Harder!”
Steve didn’t know which part he was talking about, so he responded to both, thrusting in even harder and deeper and pushing his hands down even more.
“More!” Billy demanded, with a maniacal laugh that enraged Steve, and he grew more and more pissed off as Billy continued to squirm around trying to get out of his grip.
“Stop fucking moving!”
“Make me!” Billy yelled. “Fucking make me!”
Steve doesn’t know whether it was the anger, or Billy’s own demands that caused him to bring his hand up to the side of Billy’s head and shove him right into the wall of lockers so that his cheek was firmly smashed against them. Billy’s brain rattled inside of his skull as the force of his head made contact with the metal. He could taste blood on the inside of his mouth where his teeth must have cut, and he didn’t mind, because that’s exactly what he wanted.
“Perfect.” He said, settling any nerves Steve might have had thinking he fucked up with that move. “Now fuck me already.”
Steve didn’t remove his hand from where it was pushing into the side of Billy’s head, all tangled up in with his still wet hair, and his other hand was gripping his bicep, leaving finger shaped bruises as he pushed him hard against the lockers.
Billy was completely immobile as Steve thrusted into him, and his moans and groans were entirely uncensored and bounced off the walls in a chorus coupled with Steve’s own, that were more slicked and held back than his. Steve’s entire body weight was leaning into him and his face found a place to rest just above his shoulder, behind his head where he couldn’t see him, but only feel the heat of his breath against the back of his neck. With just that alone, Billy could feel his own dick twitch and begin to leak with pre and drip to the tile floor that was already infested with athletes foot.
Steve’s breath grew heavier, loud and hot against Billy’s skin, and what Steve did to stop his own panting was to secure his lips around the sensitive skin of Billy’s neck, and Billy gasped, and nearly stopped breathing all together and Steve gently bit down.
“Fuck!” Billy swore, his voice at a loud whisper.
He couldn’t see it, but he knew Steve had a smug fucking grin on his face.
“You like that Hargrove?”
“Shut the fuck up Harrington!”
Steve just laughed and picked up his pace, back to his heavy breathing against his neck, the heat on his wet skin making Billy shiver. He could already tell he wouldn’t last much longer.
But Steve was the first to speak up.
“Ah, I’m gonna fucking cum!” Steve said it like it was a moment of defeat, which made Billy wonder how long it usually took for Steve to reach climax with all those other girls he bragged about taking to bed. But Billy wasn’t one to talk, because he was right there with him.
“Fuck, me too.”
Steve removed the hand that was at Billy’s shoulder, and Billy was about to start complain, but then the same hand found itself wrapped right around Billy’s cock, thumb grazing over the tip with a gentle touch that drastically differed from the still strong force that was Steve’s other hand still pressing into his skull. Billy let out an embarrassingly loud moan as he nearly instantly finished directly into Steve’s hand, but the moan was almost drowned out by Steve’s voice which matched his volume as he filled up the condom from inside Billy after a final slam directly into his prostate, and Steve finally at that moment let up of the force against Billy’s head.
And Billy nearly fell directly to the floor. He couldn’t feel his own fucking legs anymore.
Steve fell backwards into one of the benches behind them, sitting his bare naked ass right on the seat as his whole body slumped forward. He pulled the condom off of his dick with a hand coated in a mixture of lube and Billy’s come.
Billy still hadn’t turned around, all of that confidence he had at the start just washing away in an instant, afraid to face Steve. Nothing started to hurt until it was actually over, and that pain was largely not even physical.
And Steve noticed that. He noticed how Billy’s entire mood changed. Just silent with his face and hands still plastered up against those locker doors like he was holding on for dear life.
Steve wiped his hand off on that towel that dropped to the floor at the whole start of it, and got back up from where he was seated on the locker room bench. He walked up to Billy and placed a firm, but not forceful hand up to Billy’s shoulder where he could already see the redness forming itself into a bruise.
“Hey.” Steve said, his voice soft.
Billy let out a long and heavy breath, like he had been holding it up until the moment Steve spoke. Steve gently turned Billy around to face him, removing him from the lockers he was practically glued to, and did something that was uninvited.
He gently traced his fingers down the length of Billy’s jaw, and when no effort was made to step back or lean away, he kissed him. Gentle on the lips where he could taste the blood on the inside of Billy’s mouth, something he didn’t really want to think too long and hard about. Billy closed his eyes and leaned into it. It was soft and sweet and completely unlike the rough and bruising fuck they just had, and that was the missing piece.
The feeling of Steve’s hands gripping his body and the sight of the bruises he left afterwards stopped feeling like a pain, but a reminder, a good fucking reminder that didn’t last nearly long enough.
But one thing he remembered was that old demand from his little sister back in November. To leave Steve alone. But if ignoring that demand was going to deliver this kind of promise, Billy doesn’t think he’ll be listening to that one any time soon.
193 notes · View notes
yikesharringrove · 3 years
Text
It’s a book Steve’s actually read.
Well, Nancy kinda mostly read it to him. Which really just makes the whole thing hurt a little bit more.
His speakers were crackling and he had turned the bass up high enough that the song was distorted, vibrating through his car.
It was embarrassing. Scream-singing to Kate Bush while sobbing into your steering wheel in the high school parking lot.
He’s just got a lot of feelings, and Nancy dumped in that alleyway, he can literally see it and Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cathy. I’ve come home, I’m so cold.
Which, it’s all just bullshit. Pardon the word.
Because, Catherine and Heathcliff don’t even fucking end up together. There’s something about family difference and he remembers Nancy saying socioeconomic like that word meant anything to him and Catherine winds up dead of bad brain-itis and Healthcliff is a dick so they never should’ve been together anyway.
But, whatever.
He’s feeling very much like Catherine right now. Standing on the moors with a broken heart.
Because fuck Heathcliff. And fuck Nancy.
Kate Bush is the only one he can trust anymore. 
Her and her red dress and Steve’s insides feel like that red fucking dress in a way he can’t explain and Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window-
He just about jumped out of his skin when the passenger door opened.
One too-tan hand reached out to crank the volume down on the song, and a too-pink tongue slid across too-white teeth and
“Harrington, I’m obligated to tell you that you’re acting like a pussy.”
Hargrove.
Y’know, he’s the top of Steve’s Fuck List. Right there with Nancy and Heathcliff, and everyone else who sucks shit and makes people feel bad.
“Can it, dickhead.”
To be fair, Steve was ugly crying to Kate Bush by himself in his car, but he’s allowed to be a pussy by himself in his car.
Hargrove just gave Steve a look that Steve’s pretty sure meant I’m resisting the urge to punch you in the face right now, but was undercut by that stupid fucking tongue of his lolling around like some kinda hyper-sexual golden retriever.
Meanwhile, Kate Bush was still singing and Steve was still Cathy on the moors.
“I’m fucking sad, or whatever. Let me be a pussy.”
“Oh, come on, Harrington. You really this cut up about some prissy little princess? She’s not even the best this town has and that is saying something.”
“Y’know, for a guy that’s constantly calling all the girls in town ugly, you sure do fuck a lot of ‘em.”
“At least I’m getting some. When was the last time the princess put out, eh? Or was she savin’ it for marriage? I could see her bein’ one of those types.”
He said those types like he wasn’t wearing a saint’s pendant around his neck. Like Steve didn’t see his family all sitting uncomfortably silent together in the diner after mass every single Sunday afternoon.
It was weird, seeing Billy in a nice shirt. All buttoned up properly with his hair looking all respectful. Especially since Steve was usually high off his ass and slurping down a strawberry milkshake with cheese fries like he’d die if he didn’t.
“I’m not gonna talk about my sex life with you, Hargrove.”
“Aw, why not, Harrington. Don’t wanna compare body counts? You embarrassed or something?” Billy was grinning that shitty sharp grin of his, still waggling his fucking tongue as he leaned closer to Steve. “You still a virgin, King Steve?”
The song ended. Steve rewound the tape. It started up again.
He needed Kate now more than ever.
“Of fucking course I’m not. I’m just not some gross asshole that goes around telling everyone who’ve I’ve fucked. It’s called being a decent guy.”
“It’s called being a prude. Now, c’mon. Tell me who’ve you fucked. Maybe we’re tunnel buddies.”
Steve wanted to throw up. Kate was on the moors again.
“You’re disgusting. Tunnel buddies. How gross can you even get?”
“I hope that’s a rhetorical question.”
“I don’t know what that means and you’re a shithead.”
Hargrove tossed his head back and laughed, showing off those teeth that looked like they could take a chunk out of Steve’s flesh if Billy got close enough to try.
You had a temper like my jealousy. Too hot, too greedy.
“Seriously, though.” Billy had stopped laughing. “What is this shit?”
“She’s Kate Bush and she speaks to my heart.”
Billy just stared at him.
Yeah, that was a pretty pussy thing to say.
“I just got fucking dumped, dude. Let me be sad about it,” Steve backpedaled.
And then Billy did something very unexpected.
Well, he did something very normal for his character, and then he did something unexpected.
He lit up a cigarette.
And then passed it to Steve.
Steve filled up his lungs with a thick drag of smoke. He held it for as long as he could.
Which was really long.
Swimmer’s lungs. And that.
He blew out the smoke. Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window.
“Is this fucking song based on Wuthering Heights?”
“Yeah, you dumb dumb. It’s fucking called Wuthering Heights.”
“Okay, dumb dumb, I clearly don’t even know this song.”
“Maybe you’d be less of an ass if you did. Dumb dumb.”
Billy lit a cigarette for himself, letting the smoke trail out of his mouth like he was some kind of dragon.
Billy probably fancies himself a dragon. Thinks he’s this big scary creature that just goes around breathing fire and ransacking villages for their gold.
Ooh, it gets dark, it gets lonely on the other side from you. I pine a lot, I find the lot falls through without you.
Really, he’s probably like a dog of some kind.
Domesticated.
“You’re staring at me.”
Yeah. Steve was staring at him. Watching him smoke while Kate Bush played loudly. The speakers still sounded like shit even though Billy had turned down the song considerably.
Steve didn’t know when he had stopped crying.
Probably right when Billy had let himself into his cave of self pity, but his face was still wet.
He wiped it off, not pointing out that Billy had been staring at him too.
“Why are you here so late? Practice ended like, an hour ago.”
Billy shrugged lamely. He kinda looked like a little kid.
Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window. 
“Bored. Didn’t feel like being home.”
“So you came to sit in the break-up mobile with me. How nice.”
“Mostly I just wanted to make fun of you for listening to this garbage. I could hear it across the lot.”
And sure enough, Billy’s car was parked a good ways down from Steve, about as far away as their two cars could be from one another.
Steve doubts Billy heard Kate all this way, but what’s he gonna do, bring that up?
No. He’s rather sit in this weird silence that settled between them, feeling awkward about himself and his body and listen to Kate.
I'm coming home to wuthering, wuthering, Wuthering Heights
“She’s not worht it, y’know.”
Steve had to do a double take to make sure it was still Billy sitting in his passenger seat, and not some cheap imposter wearing a Billy-suit and saying almost nice things to Steve in a not-mean voice.
“What’d you say earlier? Plenty of bitches in the sea?” Steve would’ve laughed at that comment when Billy made it if they weren’t naked together.
There’s something things you don’t do while naked with another guy, and laughing just isn’t one of them.
Plus, he had been a little too focused on figuring out why Billy’s nudity had given him that same hot feeling that nearly seeing Rob Lowe’s dick in The Outsiders movie gave him last year.
“I mean, it’s true. Don’t sweat this break-up. She seemed like an uptight bitch anyway.”
“Hey.”
Steve was still a little too sore, a little too fresh from the split to trash talk Nance like that.
“Whatever. Get high. Look at some porn. You’ll be fine.”
Ooh, let me have it. Let me grab your soul away.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Silence again.
Kate was back to the chorus.
The song was almost over.
“You could always go on the rebound. get her out of your mind with someone that’ll actually put out.”
Hargrove had barely even said it before he was yanking Steve forward, giving him no time to prepare as their mouthed smooshed together in something that was very very awkward, and very very sloppy.
Steve still had tears on his cheeks, and his cigarette was getting dangerously close to the filter, threatening to burn his fingers, and Kate was still singing, and Billy was kissing him, and dear God Steve’s at least a little bit gay.
Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window. 
They drifted apart from one another just in time for Steve to rewind the song again.
“So, uh, yeah,” Billy said, and his cheeks were this wonderful shade of red, and Steve couldn’t stop thinking about Kate’s red dress and that fucking kiss and he was on the moors again, but this time he and Billy were making out in the grass and oh fuck, oh fuck-
“Yeah. Good.”
“Good?” Billy raised on of those dark eyebrows at him, his cheeks still burning.
“Good. Very good.”
Billy nodded a few times, sucking on his cigarette. Steve suddenly remembered he had dropped his on the floormates and tried to stamp it out before it got singed to bad.
“Okay then. Good.” Billy opened the passenger door, stepping out and flicking away his cigarette. He seemed to think for a moment, before turning around, leaning his upper body into Steve’s car.
Steve thought they were going to kiss again.
He was ready to go for it, ready to let his eyes close and maybe let it lead to more. He was Cathy and he was ready for some action.
But Billy just grinned again.
And skipped the song.
213 notes · View notes
I love the Batfam, so here they are as dogs, because I also love dogs.
Bruce Waye is a Great Dane, tall, strong, can look mean, especially when their ears are cropped like a Doberman, though his aren't. But he's really just a gentle giant who loves his kids and is very very patient.
I know we all characterize Dick Grayson as a golden retriever, but that man is husky, there is no doubt I my mind. He's emotional, over dramatic is his base setting, and he's always down for anything that excites him. And if something makes him annoyed, this man will be very vocal about it and you cannot ignore his temper tantrums.
Barbara Gordon is a German Shepard. Whether as Batgirl or Oracle, she's fierce, loyal, and one she catches onto someone's trail, she doesn't let up and once you're in Oracle's jaws, there's no escape.
Jason Todd is a Doberman, he's loyal, hardworking, caring and cam be very gentle with kids. He was a sweetheart who didn't have his ears cropped until Talia did it for him. But he also knows when to do more than guard, he's an attack dog who's not afraid to do what's necessary, but also knows when to choose kindness over force. Plus he had Dog for a while, so he's good eith other dogs too.
Tim Drake is a sighthound full of grace and beauty, he's a saluki. They're visual based and aren't as fast as a greyhound, but they're good at chasing over a long distance, and if there's something Tim Drake is good at, it's playing the long game. A smart dog for a very intelligent young man.
Stephanie Brown is an Irish setter. She's loyal, friendly, cheerful, compassionate, but she's still a hunting and gun dog who knows when to go get the prey in question. We stan our Robin queen eho loves purple and waffles, and Dog Steph is no exception.
Damian Wayne is a Great Dane and Dobermann mixed breed. But he's a hyperactive, annoying little nutcase who doesn't quite get the gentle giant part of his breed yet, but he's learning. I believe he'd have cropped ears and tail because of Ra's and Talia, which makes him look and help him act even more emenacing, but his real temperament is more Great Dane than anything else, which helps him really embrace being his father's son.
Cassandra Cain is unique, she has Shiva's mutation and is a solid black dalmatian. She's a scary dog with a bad reputation, but really, she's a sweet heart who might get things wrong sometimes, but tries very hard to be a good girl. Even when she's the strongest and fiercest fighter of them all, Cass is docile and loving at heart.
Duke Thomas is a silly nutball of a pit bull who really doesn't know how to be a bad guy or mean. He's friendly, open, and there's a reason he's Gotham's day time hero, because he shines with sun and has the biggest grin whenever he gets to do some good. He'd never hurt a fly, but when it comes to his family, he knows how to protect and fight with the best of 'em.
Alfred is an old staffordshire bull terrier, and no one would survive without this nanny dog who is always exasperated, but loves his chaotic little family.
81 notes · View notes
ktheist · 4 years
Text
03 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m
Tumblr media
➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung
➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.
➙ word. 1.9k
➙ warnings. explicit content, fingering, mild exhibitionism
➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |
➙ synopsis.  “why are you doing this if you’re not gonna fuck me?”
x
saturday evening, taehyung comes up to you with a face of a blank canvas, phone in his hand facing the ceiling and relays the news of his break up.
you’re in the middle of watching a show with his two brothers on your laptop.
“wh-what?” is all you manage to say whilst namjoon and seokjin freeze in their spots.
“i broke up with her,” taehyung’s shoulderline rises as he casually shrugs.
“but why?” deep down, you have an inkling - but your mouth moved on its own before you can even stop it.
“cause she was shit talking you,” and with that, he twirls around, heading back to the hallway where one of the doors connect to his room.
and just like second nature, your body shoots up, trailing after the slumped man like a mother to her pupper.
“you guys watch without me,” you briefly say to the two men on the couch, their faces scrunching with growing concern.
for the first time in a long time, you and taehyung bare your hearts to each other. talked about your fears and hopes and what keeps you going. which is, to an extent, each other and the two brothers. you’re not sure how you fell asleep but you wake up with a leg sprawled all over your stomach and a snoring sound echoing against the wall. the blanket draped over you and taehyung isn’t part of his bedset because one, you and taehyung end up sleeping on top of the sheets and two, you know the only one brother out of the three loves the color blue so much, his bedsheets and blankets are always themed with light cerulean. and this blanket - you’ve definitely seen seokjin use a dozen times.
"hey, morning,” you greet the two brothers whilst they’re unpacking what seems to be takeouts from a store you all collectively agree have no bad item in their menu.
everyone eats just about anything from that restaurant.
“morning, sleepyhead.” namjoon shakes his head, smiling - it’s probably the hair pointing in different directions.
“how’s taehyung?” seokjin asks when you come to sit on the stool next to where he’s standing.
“well, i mean - he’s not in a good place,” you begin, “i know he really liked her. and i know she talks shit about me behind my back and she knows i do too and he’s always caught in between, but he always seemed to brush it off and never take sides you know? so i didn’t think he’d break up with her over it.”
“hey, it’s not your fault,” the hand on your shoulder is warm, seeping into your heart as you examine the sincerity of those brown eyes, down to the reassuring smile of those plump lips.
“thanks for saying that, jinnie,” you want to ask for a kiss (and maybe some dick) but with namjoon - though he’s cluelessly continuing with his task of preparing the takeouts - around, you settle for patting his hand that’s on your shoulder.
after washing your face and returning to the kitchen, you find the previously sleeping-like-a-long giant perched on one of the stools, rubbing the grogginess out of his eyes.
“look who’s up!” a smack lands on taehyung’s back.
the aforementioned man doesn’t even flinch as he takes another second to rub all the sleepiness away before craning his neck to look at your smiling face - it may be a dumb smile but someone’s got to be lifting the atmosphere.
“i thought you left,” he grumbles, before his arm snakes around your waist and brings you in for a side hug.
the recoil is almost automated as your smile scrunches into a cringe, arms flailing to push him away and at least get a few inches gap in between,“ew, what the hell.”
“i’m sad! gimme a hug,” he laments whilst namjoon laughs, commenting something about how “adorable” the two of you are and how it “...reminds me of the good old days, you know?”
he means when you and taehyung aren’t as resistant to skinships.
but all your attention goes to the eldest brother whose glance lingers a second too long before he tears his gaze off from you and taehyung.
x
it turns out that little bitch tried making taehyung choose between you and her after he’d texted her (in an attempt to placate her jealousy-prone heart) about how you’d opted to room with seokjin in yesterday.
give them and inch and they’ll take a mile.
“i should’ve known,” taehyung shakes his head, bags heavy under his eyes as he lies in his bed, cocooned by the light cerulean blanket, “you don’t like her but you like everyone-”
“don’t you go justin bieber on me,” you smack him in the stomach, to which he curls up into a caterpillar, moaning in pain and something about suing for personal injuries.
but the fact that he can complaint at all means that he’s recovered half of himself.
“i’m getting some food from the kitchen, you want anything?” you roll your eyes.
“how bout a new girlfriend?” he manages to say, despite the so called blow to the stomach.
“potato chips it is,” you nod before strutting out of the door.
the hallway is dimly lit, save for the lone light in the ceiling and the slightest bit of gap that allows luminescence to pour out of seokjin’s room. so you knock on the door, leaning against the frame, “hey.”
kim seokjin sits on the chair you previously occupied the night before, round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as his eyes widen for the briefest second before offering you one of his warm smiles, “hey, how’s taehyung?”
“he’s eating,” you shrug, trying to appear casual even though something in the way his shirt swallows his already broad built and making him appear like you can fight him and win - gets your heart doing flips.
“that’s gre-” he can’t even properly get his response out because you’re already crossing the short distance between you and him, hands cupping his cheeks before smashing your lips against his. as if you haven’t had water for days. as if you’ve been breathing with your head barely above water.
his hands find their way on your hips, kissing you back more delicately than you can ever control yourself. tingles dot your skin from where his hand caresses your elbow and travels up your arm, lingering there, as though forgetting the reason his warning touch.
“i needed that,” you break away only to steal another kiss before confessing.
seokjin chuckles, his hand slipping over to your chest before attempting to pinch your nipple. to which he fails because your padded bra successfully blocks him off.
“oh, you’re wearing a bra?” the genuine surprise gleaming in his eyes should offend you.
“unless you want your brother accidentally touching my nips while we were wrestling each other to decide who gets to use your comfy as hell blanket,” you roll your eyes.
taehyung won, obviously. which explained why he was lying in bed like a human burrito just now.
“i’d have to give taehyung a personal beating if that happened,” the dorky grin and amused glint in his whenever he cracks a not-so-funny-but-adorable joke, isn’t present.
your heart’s always done this thing where it skips with every smile that curls on his lips, yet the lack of it and the underlying seriousness of his tone is making your heart lurch in your throat, warmth spreading all over your body.
“anyways, i need to get taehyung some chips, thanks for the kiss.” you wave but something wraps around your wrist like an iron hold seconds before you find yourself perched in seokjin’s lap and the man dangerously close to you - despite having shared a passionate kiss just a moment ago.
“taehyung this, taehyung that,” his hand slips under your shirt, coarse hand trailing up your back until you feel him unhooking your bra in one go.
like he’s had enough practice in the art of seduction.
“well, he’s the one out of the four of us with a broken heart,” you pray to the constellations and deities that your voice is levelled though it soon proves to be pointless if his other hand’s snaking up your front and hovers over your chest where he could feel the organ beneath beating wildly.
“you’re breaking mine though... with spending that much time with my brother,” he traps your nipple in between his thumb and index finger, caressing, teasing with a smile that ironically has probably broken a few hearts of his own.
“i can fix that,” you beam, finger tracing down his front and down to the waistline of his pants, to which you can’t reach unless you scoot away to allow your hand to -
“not right now,” the sound of wind chimes drum in your ears as he chuckles.
it makes the umpteenth rejection a little less prickly, as you pout, “when?”
“soon,” and with that, he takes your wrist in his hand, making you push your own shirt up until your nipples are bare in the open, “hold this up for me, please.”
it’s the please that gets you.
ever the gentleman even as he’s about to tease you with his teeth against your nipples and his free hand fondling your other breast.
“why are you doing this if you’re not gonna fuck me?” you grunt, displeased, but arch your back anyway to make it easier for him to suckle and bite on your erected nipples.
you’ve always thought his hair looked soft but it’s softer as you bury your free hand in it. at first, it’s just a gentle caress - just like patting a golden retriever. but then as his tongue lapse over your protruded nub and the pressure in his free hand in your other breast grows more intense, you’re surprised he’s not moaning out in pain from the way your hand’s instinctively grasping at his roots.
“ah!” a yelp escapes you when he leaves your left nipple for the other one, biting down harder than you’re used to but not enough to draw blood.
you’re lost in the pain and pleasure of his tongue and apt fingers, where his mouth isn’t sucking on your nipple, his fingers are pinching and groping it. somewhere in the back of your mind, you distinctively remember a midly pressing matter-
“what the fuck?”
something about a heartbroken best friend and an unclosed door.
"t-taehyung!” you gasp, body almost jolting upward like a criminal caught red handed but seokjin’s arms around your body roots you down in his lap as he slowly pulls down your shirt before turning his attention to his youngest brother.
“taehyung, calm down,” he instructs with ease but his wide-eyed gaze is filled with concern.
“this isn’t-” you begin, slipping away from seokjin’s loosened grasp to pad over to your best friend who looks like he’s seen a ghost or his brother and best friend almost-fucking. either one works, “this isn’t what you think.”
“no-” the younger cups his mouth as he doubles over, his other hand held up in the air as if to tell you to “stay the fuck back-”
“oh, come on,” the slightest brush of your nipples against the material of your carelessly-pulled-down bra makes does not go pass you, yet you put your hand on your hip, rolling your eyes, “don’t be so dramatic.”
and that’s when taehyung hurls his guts out in front of seokjin’s door.
x
note. ooof 
i wasn’t sure if this drabble was gonna gain any eager readers. when i say eager, i mean those who look forward to an update, but some of you showed interest and it warms my heart! so here’s to another update! hope yall enjoyed!
taglist. @aretha170​ @scalubera​ @ambersaesthetics​ !
332 notes · View notes
Text
I’ll Make a Million Mistakes
Read here on AO3!
Summary:
“Don’t worry,” Dick says, throwing his arm around Duke’s shoulders. “Everyone in this room has had their teeth knocked out at one point or another. It’s a rite of passage around here.”
“I don’t know how to tell you thith, but that doethn’t happen to normal people. We acthually prefer to keep our teeth, believe it or not.”
“Wait until you get your first major battle scar. Trust me, they’re cool.”
“Y’all need Jethuth.”
Bruce likes to think of himself as a patient man. Even more, he’d like to think it’s a trait he earned all on his own, but anyone who’s met him would testify that he inherited his patience from the man who raised him, and Bruce would have to agree. This level of restraint he possesses is an acquired skill—one that is reserved for the world’s best butlers and for fathers of six. Karen from the PTA wishes she were on Bruce’s level. His exceedingly calm temperament is the only reason Bruce doesn’t melt into a puddle on the ground now, his bones turning into a milky froth because Jesus fucking Christ, hasn’t he had a hard enough night as it is? No person should have to spend two hours solving riddles because Eddie was feeling manic tonight and then be forced to come home to human children. Duke smiles around a mouthful of bloody gauze. “In my defenth, I’ve never even had a cavity before.” “No, you just got your tooth knocked out.” “Teeth.” “What?” “Ith acthually teeth, plural. I lotht two of them.” Bruce facepalms. “Goddamn it.” He ignores the giggles from his other kids, all of whom apparently decided they needed to be present for this conversation. He’s picking his battles tonight.
“Ith not my fault!” Duke points over at Tim, standing against the Batcave’s wall minding his own business. “Ith hith fault.” “It is not. Bruce, don’t listen to him.” “Oh, yeah? Who knocked me into the railing in the firtht plathe?” “That was Jason’s fault. He’s the one who threw the football.” “Actually,” Jason chimes in, “that was Cass. I was an innocent bystander.” “Liar,” Cass says. “Don’t call me a liar.” “Liar.” “You’re the liar. She’s framing me, Bruce, I swear to god. I’ve never done anything wrong to my siblings in my entire life.” Dick makes a spluttering noise. “You once threw a pineapple at my head because I was breathing too loudly!” “And I don’t regret it one bit.” Bruce sighs. He doesn’t have the energy for this. He gently grasps Duke’s chin, being mindful of his sore jaw. “Where?” Duke pulls out the wad of gauze and opens his mouth wide. He points at the space where his front tooth used to be, then a canine on the bottom left which now consists of half a white shard. “Ith thith one and thith one.” Bruce hums. “I can get you a dentist appointment tomorrow afternoon. They’ll put a couple of caps in and you’ll be good as new.” He’ll have to rearrange a few things in his schedule. At least now he has a valid excuse to skip racquetball with Clark. There is no logical reason a bumpkin from Kansas should be better at racquetball than Bruce is, there just isn’t. “Tho my thmile ithn’t permanently ruined? Thath a relief. Thethe babieth are my betht feature,” he says, all the while bloody saliva dribbles from his lip like a deranged vampire. Best feature, definitely. “Don’t worry,” Dick says, throwing his arm around Duke’s shoulders. “Everyone in this room has had their teeth knocked out at one point or another. It’s a rite of passage around here.” “I don’t know how to tell you thith, but that doethn’t happen to normal people. We acthually prefer to keep our teeth, believe it or not.” “Wait until you get your first major battle scar. Trust me, they’re cool.” “Y’all need Jethuth.” ���At least it’ll make for a good story one day,” Tim says. “Everyone loves scar stories.” Jason snorts. “People actually like death stories more, but go off I guess.” “Nobody cares that you died, Jay. Find new material.” “You want new material? Check this out.” Jason tugs down the collar of his sweater. He shows off the mostly-faded autopsy scar sliced up his torso and to his shoulders. Bruce winces. Dick yawns. “So? You got autopsied. Big whoop. Scars don’t count if you’re dead when you get them.” He tips his head down, parts a section of his hair with his fingers to show off the fresh scar on his scalp. “Talk to me when you get shot in the head.” Tim rolls his eyes. “You realize how stupid this is, right? We shouldn’t be arguing about who has the worst bodily trauma.” “Why,” Jason says, “because you know you’d lose?” “Because I’ve got you both beat.” He pulls up his t-shirt to display the surgical scar on his abdomen. “Missing spleen. Beat that.” “I lost a kidney. Kidney trumps spleen any day.” Cass rolls up the leg of her shorts to show off her bullet-riddled thigh. “Connect the dots. I win.” “But have you lost a vital organ?” Tim asks. “No.” “Spleens aren’t that vital,” Dick says. “Fuck off, at least you still have one.” “I would prefer to keep my organth,” Duke says. “Juth thaying.” “And you will,” Bruce assures him. “Probably.” “Probably?” “Look, I’m tired. We’re all tired. Can we schedule the scar contest for a later time when I’m hopefully not here to witness it?” Maybe he can ask Alfred to drug his tea from now on. At least then he can rest easy in a drug-induced slumber, knowing all the while that he’s missing the kind of petty arguments no parent should have to hear. “No one said you had to be here,” Dick says. “Anyway, Bane once slammed me against a wall and now my hip throbs when it rains.” “At least your wrist doesn’t click when you move it at the right angle.” Jason shakes his wrist next to Tim’s ear. Tim cringes. “You’re all amateurs,” a new voice says, and Bruce wants to die. Damian and Stephanie appear to have returned from patrol, still in their uniforms. “Try having your entire spine replaced.” Tim wrinkles his nose. “Great, it’s time to hear Damian talk about how much better than us he is. My favorite activity.” “Shut up, Drake. You’ve never experienced pain.” “I got blown up once! I still have burn scars all over my neck and shoulders!” “Eh. I’ve had worse.” Steph grins and holds up her left hand, just happy to be included. (Note to self: ponder whether Stephanie is secretly a golden retriever in human form.) “I have no feeling in these three fingers.” She pokes them to demonstrate. “And should I mention that I was tortured by Black Mask once? No? Because power tools were involved, in case anyone was wondering.” “Do I need to reiterate that I once died in an explosion?” “Jason. Little wing. I’m begging you to shut up about your death.” Cass points to a spot on her ribcage. “Two ribs made of metal. Got shattered during a fight. Four years old.” “My dad used to burn me with cigarettes every time I was bad, so...seven times a week, more or less.” “Oh, same!” Jason and Steph high-five. “My grandfather broke my arm in two places when I made a mistake during a training drill. He made me fight assassins for three hours straight afterward without so much as an ice pack.” Duke looks horrified. “Are you guyth okay?” “No offense, but none of you should talk unless you’ve gone through childbirth.” Stephanie rolls up the top portion of her Batgirl suit just enough to show off the scar across her lower belly. “You think getting blown up is hard? Try spending three hours in labor and having a baby ripped out of you. That’s hard.” Jason wipes away a fake tear. “Boo-hoo, someone had a baby when she was a teenager. Human reproduction doesn’t involve being beaten to death with a crowbar.” “Nobody cares that you died, Jason!” “Indeed,” Damian agrees. “Being stabbed by your clone is far worse than being caught in a little explosion. And I can take a crowbar beating in my sleep.” “I’m gonna kill him, Bruce. I’ll kill him right now. Just say the word and I’ll do it.” Bruce sighs, closing his eyes. “Duke, there are painkillers in the medicine cabinet if you need them. I’ll text you the time of your dentist appointment. The rest of you, please refrain from talking to me for the rest of the night.” Bruce walks away toward the manor, silently praying that he can forget this conversation ever happened. “Hey, who wants to see where Killer Croc bit my ass once?”
234 notes · View notes
colorfullfalls · 4 years
Text
Hiding from me?
Embry Call x reader
Summary: Embry got home and couldn’t find his imprint anywhere in the house, so he goes and looks at the only other place he thinks she would be.
Embry was puzzled. He texted you an hour ago and you assured him that you would be at home when he got back. He imagined walking inside and seeing you on the couch with the dogs, probably watching some true crime video. As soon as his shoes slipped off he walked towards the living room.
His brows furrowed as his eyes scanned the area. Fluffy blankets lay in the area your body usually occupied but you weren’t there. The dogs barked in excitement around him, just so happy that daddy was home.
“Hi little loves. Where’s mommy?” He asked the two golden retrievers. Their ears perked at her name and they began to bark loudly, running around the house to search.
Embry laughed at how eager they were to find you as soon as he mentioned your name. You weren’t there and the dogs halted at his feet once again in anticipation. Their dog faces screamed pet me god dammit.
His hands skimmed through their well groomed fur, thanks to her dedication to keeping them clean, petting them for a minute before he slowly rose back to his feet. He slipped his boots back on in a daze as his mind was stuck on her. He wished that she would give him a heads up when she was going to go out. He saw more shit than he would like to admit and worrying was in his nature.
“I’ll be back, boys. I’m gonna find that mommy of yours that likes to drive me crazy. Behave, little rascals.” He called out, blowing them kisses before turning the door knob.
Birds chirped a melody as their bodies fluttered from the assortment of trees. Embry flinched when one flew past his ear- making a swish sound. He smiled slightly at the fact that it scared him. A man who could turn into a bear sized wolf was spooked by a little bird in the woods. He internally swore to never think about it while shifted with the pack because they would tease him about it. Especially Jared.
His ears picked up soft music playing to the left of him. Honey-like voice of Hozier alerted the man that his fiancé was very close by. Y/N loved Hozier’s music. She explained it to him before that his songs just made her feel so understood and completely loved. Embry then would joke that Hozier should be with her instead, to which she would hit him and tell him to shut up.
He peeked around the tree to see her form. His heart soared at the sight before him. A sheet was spread on the ground. The blue and white pattern reminded Embry of the floor mats in her car. Floor mats that he bought you for her birthday three years ago. It was the first year they were together, and he wanted to get her something that she would use everyday and appreciate. She loved the gift. She was so damn appreciative of everything he did. She was actually appreciative of life itself. So sweet and naturally good that it made his heart hurt.
Herbody lay sprawled on the sheet with her head looking up towards the sky. He wondered why she was looking up because the trees covered the blue sky. Her fingers tapped on the fabric of her shirt resting against her midsection to the beat of “Wasteland, baby.”
A smile split his lips apart as he heard her mess up a lyric and laugh to herself about it. She shifted where she laid to a sitting up position to check her phone that sat next to her feet. Embry took this as his que.
“Hiding from me, sweets?” His voice startled her. A surprised scream left her lips as she threw her phone onto the ground. She glared at him, her hand coming up to flash him her middle finger.
“You dick, you scared the hell out of me. Be a normal person and text me a warning that you’re coming.” She spoke, hand over her heart to feel it beating out of her chest.
He blushed sheepishly before defending himself, “Not fair because, one, you should have told me that you were coming out here and two- don’t call me a dick. I prefer the names; handsome, lover boy, bub, and occasionally cutie pie. Well I’d take cutie pie over dick any day.”
She rolled her eyes at his speech but offered a loving smile all the same. She couldn’t help it. No matter what the man in front of her did, she thought he was the sun, the moon, and the stars. A part of her felt guilty for not warning him where she would be.
“I admit, a simple text would’ve been thoughtful. So I’m sorry about that, but you know I hate when you sneak up on me.”
His body came to rest beside hers on the thin sheet that barely separated their bodies from the natural dirt and grime of Mother Nature. His brown eyes gazed over her beautiful features in appreciation and adoration.
“Didn’t mean to spook you...” he mumbled, leaning over to kiss the side of her head. She hummed as he pulled away, “Why are you out here anyway?”
She sighed, crossing her arms, “Greg from work was being a sexist asshole, and I argued with him about the wage gap for about an hour. My nerves were so shot when I got home that I had to disconnect. Come out here and focus on the sweet things in life.”
Embry listener to all she had to say, soaking in her feelings as if he was a sponge used to clean up spilled water. He would always be attentive to how she felt because his mom taught him to care about women more than just lovers, but to care about them as deep counterparts to life, as a great friend.
Y/N cared too much sometimes and that put a burden on her shoulders. He wanted to help carry that burden any time he could.
“Greg is the one who you should be calling a dick.”
She laughed, nudging his arm with her elbow, “Oh I called him that and more. Trust me. I’m glad I have a sweet man like you that actually cares about women instead of seeing them as servants.”
His finger tips grazed her collar bone, dancing around the soft skin that was cold compared to his lava temperature. Goosebumps arose from the rapid heat. They traveled down her skin until his fingers connected with hers.
“My mother raised me right, and apparently a lot of parents could take notes from her. Next time he argues with you, just call me and hand him the phone. I will school him like no other, teach him how to respect others.” His low voice rumbled.
“I’m sure you will, lover boy. I don’t doubt it.”
Embry bit his lip as he let the silence wash over the couple. A bird flew past again and he jumped, internally cursing the damn animal for getting him twice within ten minutes.
“I don’t want to rush you, but I’m very hungry. I’ve been thinking about that Italian place we went to a couple months ago.” His thumb rubbed circles against her skin.
“Luittei’s.. yeah; that place was good. You wanna go there?” She asked, looking up at him.
“Not very subtle, was I?”
Y/N patted his arm. She then stood up and helped him up too, “You’re cute, but no. Not subtle at all. I want Italian too though.”
Embry bent down and grabbed the sheet in his hands, her grabbing the other side to fold it harmoniously.
“I love you.” His voice cracked a bit as his tongue delivered the earnest words. Letters strung together that formed such a true and genuine message. Loving her was as natural as breathing to him and he was sure it would always be. His tone surprised her.
“I love you too, Em.”
74 notes · View notes
hobiwonder · 5 years
Text
crazy rich asians | 02
Genre: Chaebol!BTS. maid!reader. Smut, fluff. mild angst. 
Pairing: Jin x reader, Jimin x reader, Hoseok x reader, Yoongi x reader. Possible future pairings. 
Warnings for this chapter: language. mention of porn. 
Words: 6.5k+
Summary: You overhear something you shouldn’t. Now some of the country’s most powerful - and rich - men would do anything to keep you quiet. 
a/n: I'm back finally lol. this chapter moves along the change in feelings of the different characters. main pairing becomes more clear and also just sets the scene to the final few chapters. please let me know what you thought?
Tumblr media
(dorks!!!!!)
“Wow.”
“Yeah...” Yoongi lets out a hefty breath he’s been holding since Jimin had mentioned the Will. He’d known his friends were multimillionaires. But never quite the exact aggregated amount of their wealth. Which he now knew was A Lot.
“Wait so let me get this straight, your dad has to marry Amber in order for you to get the money - what if he doesn’t?”
The unexpected question - that Jimin or Jin didn’t even take into consideration - makes Jin smack his younger brother on the back of his head. Light enough that Jimin’s exaggerated flinching was uncalled for.
“He should if Jimin here, can keep his dick in his pants.”
“Please! You slept with her before me, don’t act so self righteous.” Jimin’s scowl only earns him another glare from Seokjin.
“Once. Whereas you will probably make her your booty call.”
“Well I have someone else in mind for that now.” The smirk on his face is mirrored by Yoongi who just shakes his head at his friend’s unadulterated behaviour.
“Good. Call her from now on.” Jin doesn’t seem to catch on to who Jimin is referring to but it does remind him about your departure not too long ago. Hoseok seems to have the same idea when he speaks up before him.
“Speaking of, you assholes better have made sure y/n wasn’t outside at least this time.” His eyes don’t flicker away from his phone as he says so, making no move to get up and check if you had in fact, left.
“Are any of you going to check?” Jin knows the answer but somehow expects a different outcome. Negative.
“Not my house.” Yoongi is leaning back, stretching his arms behind his head to get comfortable.
Shaking his head at his useless friends and even more useless brother - he opts to have a look himself.
“I’ll be back. Meanwhile you peasants think up an idea on how to retrieve that will.”
“Excuse me?” Hoseok’s eyes are wide as if Seokjin told him he was an illegitimate child.
“Hyung you don’t have the inheritance yet. If speaking solely of net worth, mine is more than yours.” His record producer friend’s shit eating grin is well earned but doesn’t mean it doesn’t make Seokjin want to get this plan in motion sooner.
“Yeah yeah..” He’s not paying much attention to their mindless chatter about Jimin’s impromptu vacation.
A few strides later, he’s opening the golden doorknob carefully. That way if you were outside - which would be quite dumb of you he thinks - he’d be able to catch you red handed. Right outside the door, he doesn’t find anyone. He lets out a sigh of relief at the peacefully empty hallway. No servants or butlers and definitely not your cute little frame hovering in places you shouldn’t be.
Just when he’s about to head back inside - he hears the faint noise. Immediately, his feet are going towards it - not quite being able to pinpoint what exactly was that he could hear. Was there someone else lurking nearby? God. Were the staff always this nosey in this house? Then again he would know if he paid much attention even if he saw nothing wrong with not doing so.
Jin strains his neck further, hoping to see whoever it was, without being all too visible as he stood behind the massive vase in the hallway. The next sound he hears though, inevitably someone talking - worries him just slightly. Walking forward until he was nearing another room - there you were, sitting against the wall with your back hunched over. Seokjin couldn’t see your face but your voice was telling enough to let him know of your distressed state. You were sitting on the floor, hand covering your mouth to seemingly hold back a cry.
Who were you talking to? And where was the girl who not even half an hour ago blackmailed his brother and friend?
“I-I’m okay. I just miss you.” Your quaint, undoubtedly overwrought whisper in to the phone makes his chest constrict.
“I’ll let you know. I have to go now Nana. I love you.”
He’d never witnessed someone so rawly feeling emotions that weren’t joy or ecstatic even. The most he was used to was anger from his father. Frustration from his friends. Mostly bliss on his own. But never something like this. You sounded defeated and scared. Were you really crying because of him? He hadn’t anticipated that immensity the empathy would flood into him. He’d never really gotten upset and nor did he believe his brain had the chemicals to make the reaction happen which would allow him to feel said emotions.
He watched you - and heard - let out soft whimpers into your lap. His hands suddenly started to sweat and his feet itch to walk forward but he remained rooted in place. A few moments later, you were getting up, dusting your frumpy uniform before storming off to who knows where with a determined stomp to your steps. A small grin tugging at his lips at your determination. It was more than likely that you were feeling upset and intimidated by the situation you found yourself in. So why did Jin still not call it off when he went back inside the room?
He couldn’t answer that even if he tried. Maybe he was a masochist. Maybe he really did not have any regard for anyone but himself. It certainly wasn’t because he wanted to keep tabs on you.
“You good brother?” Jimin instantly notices his older brother’s more sinister expression.
“What are you looking so happy for?” Jin counteracts before Jimin can try and analyse him any further. He didn’t do well with emotions other than hunger, ecstasy and horny.
“Did you hear? It’s all over the news.” Hoseok is laughing obnoxiously loudly, shoving his wide screen phone in Jin’s face.
A familiar face is greeting him right next to his eyes - if only Hoseok would move the offending phone slightly back, Jesus. Taehyung’s bright blue hair is the front page of the news article. His hand is up a model’s skirt and face plastered on hers. The next set of pictures is him being spotted at a museum with his Posse before they tastefully switch to him at an elite rooftop club. His friend was always the centre of attention and quite obviously thrived on it.
He was very liberated and couldn’t careless of the strict rules his family lived by. Boy would he be in trouble if he comes back before his newest scandal dies down.
“What’s he done now?” Yoongi’s just shaking his head - being the older brother of said boy and rightfully being pissed off. He usually took the heat for his younger brother’s shenanigans.
“Just shoved his face in between a model’s tits for all to see. Nothing new.” The tick in Yoongi’s voice is all too familiar. He always had to do damage control while Taehyung partied the night away. He felt for his friend sometimes, he really did.
“Well, shit. What’s the damage?”
“If i’m lucky, just more shame.” Yoongi’s gaze turns back up to the ceiling, hands stretched behind him to cushion his head.
“Hyung, you really don’t have to keep being the martyr for him. Let him face the music when he gets back. Grow the fuck up.” Hoseok can’t help but feel like a broken record whenever he gives yoongi advice.
No matter how stubborn and wilfully isolated Yoongi remained from the rest of the world, he insisted on protecting his younger brother as much as he could. It would’ve been admirable if it was a rarity. Saving Taehyung’s delinquent ass was like yoongi’s day job at this point.Yoongi just shook his head, not dismissing Hoseok’s advice completely even if it seemed so that way.
“I’m more selfish than you think Hoseokie.” What did he mean by that? That story was for another day.
“Ladies, ladies,” Jimin eyes his older brothers, holding out his hands in a gesture to settle everyone down, “Let’s get back to business. Taehyung whoring around is like being surprised to find out that a lion eats meat.”
“What the fuck kind of analogy is that?” Hoseok is chuckling at Yoongi’s taunting but Jimin barely blinks.
“What is it Jiminie? You’ve had another revelation?” Standing and pacing was not something Jin had ever done before. And he wasn’t about to act like a commoner just because of a little maid who’d caught him off guard.
Taking a seat back at the couch, Jin takes the scotch from Jimin before settling his attention back on to the matter at hand.
“We need to use our newest asset.” Jimin’s devilish smile is nothing short of mischievous.
And Jin was very familiar with that look. He knew that his little brother was intrigued and despite having his eye on the prize, no doubt, he wasn’t thinking all business anymore. There weren’t many things that Jin and Jimin couldn’t have. In fact, he would argue that even if he tried to spend all his money - he wouldn’t be able to. Jin was only 27 and yet he felt like he was on his ninth life - all previous deaths were due to absolute boredom. Women flocked him to without him having to bat an eyelash, had too many servants to count, too many places to sleep and too little to want. Could he get bored of being rich? Not ever. But was he bored with things he could do that came with being rich.
That’s why he was always actively looking to spend his wealth on hobbies and objects that were unattainable. Dangerous. Something that was forbidden to even a man like him who could have anything. And at this very moment - it was you. It was hard to pretend that Jimin wasn’t also well aware of that fact. Hoseok and Yoongi were merely held back because they hadn’t received the ‘go-ahead’ from either himself or Jimin. That they were allowed to play with such a pretty thing like you. They were all good-looking, incredibly so, and extremely wealthy. It was a default that people wanted to be as close to them as possible. Not you. When Jimin had crowded your space, you looked ready to bolt. Like you would be anywhere but in that room with all three of them. And when your body had reacted quite the opposite way, clinging onto Jimin and Hoseok - it was he could do, watch in awe. Jin rarely saw people at war with themselves when it came to physical intimacy with himself or any of his friends.
He’d slept with his fair share of attractive house staff but never encountered someone like you. And that had to be why he was inexplicably attracted to you. Nothing more. The look on Jimin’s face meant he was too and he wanted to play with his meal.
“What do you propose? Shall we take turns trying to maximise our profits from said asset?” Hoseok’s shit-eating grin accompanied with his schoolgirl giggle annoys Jin more than usual but he doesn’t mention it.
Letting the younger ones have some fun, with his fists clenched. He needed another drink.
“Well, I found out from Amber that there have been some staff changes to the Manor and I wonder if our little maid being here has something to do with that. Minhyuk doesn’t work here anymore.”
“And?” Yoongi sounds just as bored as Jin probably looks.
“And, you little shits, he used to work in father’s wing. Know what that means? Hm?” Jimin is looking around at his older brothers like they are supposed to be on the same page.
And while it makes sense that the other two who didn’t live here were lost - it baffles Jin that he didn’t know of the change when he’s been here far longer than Jimin. How does he know so much in so little time? Though it clicks for him just before Jimin opens the pandora’s box.
“It means that y/n works there. She’s the only new hire and none of the other staff have been moved around.”
“And let me guess, you want to seduce her into breaking into father’s office and snoop around?”
Jimin is gasping in mock shock at Jin putting two and two together like the drama queen he is. “Precisely. Knew your brain hadn’t hibernated permanently.”
“Yah, shut up before I expose you and get you cut out of the will entirely.”
“You won’t. You’ve got too much to lose.” Jimin is tilting his head innocently, a juxtaposition between his words and actions.
Jimin was a slithery snake, that much Jin knew. Hell, he was often proud of his younger brother’s extraordinary mind but even Jin knew that he was sharp underneath his soft exterior and disarming smiles. Which meant that he’d made up his mind to include you into their devious plan. But something about the phone call Jin had witnessed before, he felt a little uneasy in the pit of his stomach. The feeling is all too foreign and unfamiliar that he has to place a hand on his abdomen.
“Well boys, just let me know when my turn is. She was too cute for me to pass up on. Now if you excuse me, I have to pick up Taehyung.”
Yoongi’s passive face turns up into a scowl at the mention of his younger brother. “Good. At least he’s bringing back enough of his brain cells to know not to ask me any favours for a while.”
“That’s why he called me, hyung. I’ll drop him off at the Hilton.” Yoongi murmurs a thanks at Hoseok, glad that his friend could sense that Yoongi would rip Taehyung a new one unless he took some time to cool down. He already had to hang up on his father’s personal secretary twice since the news broke out.
“Later sluts.”
“Bye hyung.” Jimin is waving Hoseok goodbye before he finally sits, looking expectantly at Jin.
“So, what do you say? You in for some adventure? It’s been a while since I fucked someone I wasn’t supposed to.”
His pursed lips would have you think he was talking about a physics phenomenon and not sex. “Yeah? And what do you suppose is called when you sleep with your future step-mother?”
His smile is blinding. “The family jewels. I’ve just as much right as father now.”
“Jesus christ.” Yoongi mumbles before putting down his half empty glass. “I’m just glad I won’t have to merge with that obnoxious knob my father keeps insisting I do business with to expand. Tell me what’s needed of me and then wire me the money. No need for details that don’t concern me.”
Stretching like a feline, Yoongi takes his leave. Leaving Jin to marinate a little more in his conflicting feelings toward Jimin's pet project. Well, he did willingly take part but that was before the five foot something intrusion in their plans. There wasn't anything particularly extraordinary about you. So why was Jin finding it so difficult to separate himself from the situation like he usually was able to?
"Jin hyung?"
"Yeah?" Pretending that he wasn't distracted by any thoughts of you, Jin stares back at Jimin's smirking face. He's holding a sheet in his hand, waving it around like he's going to cast a spell.
"Let's figure out the logistics here shall we?"
"You do that on your own brother. I've got some business to attend to." The clink of his heavy scotch glass is definite as he sets it down.
Jimin doesn't argue and that in itself is suspicious. Giving Jimin a pat on the back, Jin heads out with a mission to let off some steam at the gym. Just knowing you were somewhere in the Manor put him on edge and he wasn't about to flail like a teenager in front of you should he encounter you again.
"I'll do that. I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Maybe."
___________________________________________________________________________
"Y/n, Please make sure you are supervising the staff as they move through the rooms. I'd like you to personally go through the checklist before my inspection. Mr. Kim will be spending a lot more time in his home office starting the week after next and we cannot afford the Manor to be anything short of impeccable."
Anders was talking just as fast as he was walking, causing you to almost have to jog besides him as he fired off the list of chores. it was odd enough that you still had a job, let alone climbing up the rank and supervising other staff. In Mr. Kim's wing no less. For a split second you thought you were part of some joke and any second you'll be laid off. But Anders had all but looked through you like it was any other day of work.
"And please, take note that due to the eventful nature of Mr. Kim's work, we will be expecting many visitors therefore everything needs to be tidied up before and after Mr. Kim's work hours. you will be rostered on to take care of his wing, including the guest rooms, living room, library and the restrooms. Mr. Kim's office will be out of bounds and I shall take care of that room. understood, dear?"
Anders is looking at you warmly for the first time today and like a true airhead that you'd been acting these days, it takes a few seconds for you to nod at him.
"Yes sir. Will I be working the regular hours or will my shift hours be changed?"
"I presume it will be on a weekly basis for a little while. For this week you will be required to tend to Master Kim's quarters after 5pm and get everything set up for the next day. Of course, with the exception of today."
His smile is kind and lighthearted. You know he isn't this forthcoming to all of the staff. Perhaps your age being the closest to his own children gives you the soft advantage. Nonetheless, you are thankful for the little bit of gentleness, guidance and just a light hand ever since you'd started working here. And maybe Anders has a little bit of hand in you getting this sort of promotion in such a short amount of time.
"Okay. I will get to it right away." Tucking your notebook in your apron, you nod at him.
"Y/n?"
"Yes?" Your heart is thumping too loudly, too fast in your chest. The events of yesterday flooding in your mind.
But Anders didn't seem to display any anger so far.
"I say this for your own safety, dear. Try your absolute best to keep a respectful distance between the people of the house and yourself."
"O-Okay." Spinning right around, you bolt.
There was no way Anders didn’t know something. He had to have known that something incredibly inappropriate happened, right? Did Mr. Kim’s sons complain about you? There was no way they probably didn’t make you seem like a creep. Snooping around their house like paparazzi. Just thinking about the events of yesterday made the blood rush to your face fast enough to make you slightly dizzy. It still felt like a fever dream. Something that was far too.... astounding to have every happened to you. You could count on one hand how many times something memorable happened to you in your short life. And yesterday was equally memorable as well as terrifying. This uncertainty you felt with your place in the Manor was something you didn’t want to feel much longer.
The more you thought about it last night, the more angry you became at yourself. How selfish could you be to put your job in jeopardy? Especially when you have so many people counting on you to keep it for a long while. You had stupidly put yourself in the midst of some money war happening between very powerful people. Now you’d become someone for them to play with or at least that’s what you felt like. Yes the kissing was great, your traitorous body soaked up the physical intimacy like a starved nymphomaniac but at what cost? Tossing and turning, sleeping had been futile.
And maybe your red eyes gave Anders some indication about what had been troubling you. Still, you were adamant on keeping yourself away from their traps. No matter how beautiful and alluring their words were. No matter how beautiful each one of them were. They were unattainable and a lowly worker like you was never going to be someone worth their respect. Head filled with many thoughts, you march towards the crowd of people awaiting your instructions.
You will not think about them. Especially him. Kim Seokjin.
______________________________________________________________
A week goes by much easier and uneventfully than you had expected it to be. And the more days that pass, the more that one encounter feels like a fever dream. Like it happened in the fantasy realm. Something twisted conjured up by your brain after it got tired of your insipid life. You’d managed to speak to your grandma on a regular basis to make sure she wasn’t worried after your out of the ordinary tearful conversation with her. As usual, your mother had not been interested in talking with you and it hurt you just like it always did. Though it was becoming so normal and expected that you suspected your numbness to it soon. You awaited that day.
“Miss. y/n, would you like me to change the glasses from the liquor table? One seems to have broken...”
One of the staffer’s, Jihoon, trails off as he inspects the damage. Your eyebrows furrow at his observation. You left everything in place last night before leaving. No broken glass anywhere. Was someone here after hours? Mr. Kim’s schedule didn’t show any scheduled meetings after 6pm - which was unusual anyway as he finished up by 5pm most days.
“That’s odd. I’m sure this wasn’t broken.” There are a few shards of glass peeking out from the bottom of the liquor cabinet and sure enough, when you bend down, you can see the remains of the glass pushed underneath it.
“Oh boy. Be careful when you clean that up Jihoon. I’ll go get a new set.”
“Maybe one of the masters we’re here.” Jihoon shrugs absentmindedly, proceeding to vacuum all the shards and the mention of the other men in the house makes you jolt like you’re the one vacuuming glass into your bare hands.
“Y-Yeah. I’ll be right back. You’re free to go when you’re done. I’ll do the last sweep before calling Mr. Anders.”
“Okay! See you tomorrow noona!” You say your goodbyes before heading to the storage room. Jihoon had been here overnight so you wanted to let him rest as quickly as possible.
Feet rushing you out quickly, it feels like every breath is being stolen out of your lungs while the memories from last week are rushing into your empty brain. Why couldn’t you get yourself together? It was one incident. Yet, your whole life seemed to revolve around it. It was getting pathetic. You hadn’t seen any of the boys since then and the more days passed, the more it was clear that they played around with the staff on the regular. You weren’t anyone special. The more it made you angry that you let it happen. How dare they treat you like a common groupie? You may be just a household worker but that didn’t mean these rich trust fund babies should treat you like this.
All the comebacks you could have said then were coming to the tip of your tongue now. Especially for the tall, handsome eldest with lips of sin. Lips that didn’t touch yours and annoyed you so much for some reason. If you saw him again, he was going to get an earful!
Your emotions were getting the best of you. So much so that the force with which you were pushing in the key with to unlock the  storage room was rattling the mahogany door rather loudly. Thankfully, before you disturb the peace down in the basement even more, you’ve opened the door. It’s only the second time you’re here as you were not allowed the key before. Seeing as you managed Mr. Kim’s wing, it was given to you by Anders to keep with you at all times.
Locking the storage room again after you’ve grabbed a new case of - extremely expensive - glasses, you make the tread back to the meeting room. The Manor is quiet at this time in the morning. The only activity most likely happening in the kitchen while breakfast is prepared. You were on time for all your tasks regarding Mr. Kim’s wing, a spring in your step as you thought about having a cup of tea with the cooks in the spare time you had. The next task was to get everything ready for tomorrow’s Family dinner that Mr. Kim was hosting. Thankfully you didn’t need to be there. You may have been promoted but you were not allowed to stay for the intimate family gatherings as only the very essential staff stayed. You could understand given the influence of the people present in the home and how anything could be made a spectacle if it were to get out.
“Oh Y/n, glad I caught you.” Anders is walking towards you down the hall.
“Mr. Anders.” He’s smiling as he approaches, eyeing the box in your hands.
“Everything looks good. I have inspected the room. I presume these glasses are for the liquor cabinet?”
“Oh, yes they are. Did Jihoon call you? I was about to do a last sweep before paging you.”
His kind smile greets you as he shakes his head. “No need. Everything looks remarkable. You are doing a wonderful job, dear. Join the others in the kitchen for some tea and muffins. They smell especially good today.”
He’s walking down the hall to Mr. Kim’s office as he reminds you of the treats. It’s such a wonderful morning now that Anders has acknowledged your hard work too. You must really be doing a good job. Without wasting any time, you walk a little too fast to the meeting room to display the glasses. Before you can though, a call for your name stops you in your tracks.
“In a hurry?” The deep, mocking tone of a certain someone you were trying to avoid is all you can hear.
Taking a few steps back until you are facing the doorway where you heard his voice from, you come face to face with an image only your imagination tried to conjure on nights you were so, so tired. The real thing though, was far more picturesque. The eldest Kim, Seokjin, stood there, lean muscle on display while his jeans hung low. Hair wet and skin looking slightly flushed due to the shower you assume he just had, judging from the towel around his neck. Even if you tried, you wouldn’t be able to stop your eyes from memorising each ridge on his abdomen. There was something about seeing him in casual wear when you have only ever witnessed him in slacks and expensive silk shirts.
“Are you done? I get that I'm the most handsome man you’ve ever seen but the staring does get old.” He’s sighing as if he bears a great burden on his shoulders.
"I wasn't- wasn't star-"
"Anyway. Bring me a glass of scotch will you?" He cuts you off before you can actually properly say anything.
Now sitting on the plush couch with his legs spread and an arm slung behind the backrest. Looking like something out of a magazine cover. Ugh! He was so infuriating. He didn't even respect you enough to let you respond to his ludicrous remarks! Nevertheless, you were in no position to be angry. He was your boss after all. And after last week, you weren't about to stir up trouble and get yourself fired.
You must have been zoning out for a little too long because you can feel Seokjin's stare burning a hole through you. His gaze indifferent and apathetic. "Well?"
"Yes... Sir." Your mouth aches from the force with which you clenched your jaw before answering.
Standing a good distance away from him really helped your mental state. You were much more clam and composed. You had space to think. Unlike when you were in that room last week. His proximity made it worse for you to think let alone compose a coherent sentence to stop whatever the men were practically forcing you into. Who even makes a deal with a servant anyway? They could toss you out whenever they want to, that's for sure. So really, they were playing with you and you'd been nervous and scared and made that stupid call back home like the gullible sheep you were. That's what rich people with too much free time on their hands did. Play with innocent people's feelings. Not knowing how much trouble it may cause for them. So, whatever. You weren't going to think about it and let them get the best of you again.
Turning swiftly, you complete your original task of replacing the liquor glasses. Carefully pouring one for Seokjin - despite your dislike for the man - as to not pour too much or too little. He's in the same position when you left, albeit, his body more relaxed into the sofa than before as he flicks through the channels. The noises erupting in the room suddenly, however, make you halt in your tracks like you just witnessed some sort of tragedy. The high pitched moans and whimpers are bouncing off the walls all too clearly. The sounds are so pornographic it has your whole body on fire and your pulse racing. Taking a look at the TV - of course, it actually is porn. And what do you know, that's enough to rattle you once more as you almost see it happening in slow motion.
The glass that was weighty and secure on the tray in your hands; now tumbling to the tiled floor like it was fairy floss dissolving in your hands. The loud shatter compared to the very obtuse and unmoving reaction from Seokjin is too metaphorical for you to not notice. This incident now can pretty much sum up your encounters with him. Seokjin hasn't moved an inch, casually watching porn like it was the weather man. All the while you're glancing frantically at him and then the floor, then back at him and back to the floor where they shattered glass is scattered on the floor.
"I'm- I'm so sorry, sir! I'll clean this u-up." What even was happening. How the hell do you apologise with those noises in the background?!
"Don't interrupt. You've already broken expensive glass, don't sully my enjoyment of the film too." Again, he has yet to even look at you.
"This is hardly a film." The words escape you a little too quickly and a little too loud. And of course, Seokjin would notice now. If only because of your ticked tone and the scoff that’s bound to get you in trouble.
“Any movie that I’m in is worth watching.”
“Excuse me?” What was he talking about?
That’s when all plans of being poised and professional go out the window. Due to one rookie mistake. Taking the bait that he dangled in front of you because you turn around like a fool and look at the large TV screen. The sight is slightly unexpected. You had expected to see porn, of course. But not porn that included Seokjin. Sure enough, it’s hard to deny that it’s really him behind a really attractive blonde, someone you recognised from a lot of hollywood movies, flexing his biceps as he intently stared at the camera. You could feel your body tightening up, your thighs connecting with each other on instinct. You can feel the perspiration build up on your skin, your heart rate a million miles an hour. Seokjin was naked in all his glory, hair still looking as if it had just been styled in that effortless way. Even though the snapping of his hips behind the woman displayed how much his muscles were being exerted. The scene was mesmerising. His smouldering eyes holding yours captive that you forget that he was actually there in the flesh. Currently watching you look at the screen like a pervert.
Seokjin’s chuckle breaks your blatant staring at his naked form in the video that was playing by pausing it. So you had no other choice then to look back at his smirking face. The wheels turning in your head, trying to find a viable excuse to get out of another uncomfortable situation you seem to have pulled yourself into just because you can’t help your reactions. The anger was also starting to creep up your spine, getting dangerously close to the part of your brain that failed to control your impulsivity. All because Kim Seokjin was pushing you to your limits. So instead of making a comment on how you had shamelessly watched a good minute of his sextape with some A-List actress, you clear your throat and look him dead in the eye no matter how hard it was after seeing what you had.
“I will have Jihoon bring you another glass and clean this up right away.” Taking a small bow, you cheer internally that you didn’t stutter.
“I don’t want Jihoon. I want you.” Your breath hitches at the heat in his words. Somehow they didn’t convey the appropriate message considering the context.
“S-Sorry?” Seokjin clears his throat, looking back at the TV before speaking again.
“To clean up this mess.” He waves his hand at the shattered glass again, flicking the TV to some cartoon channel.
“O-Okay.”
“Aw, did I miss all the fun?” The cheery voice from the doorway finally takes Seokjin’s attention away from you to his younger brother.
“If by fun you mean the maid breaking house property then, no. I’m sure she’ll make more mayhem soon enough.”
“If you can kindly wait till i’m out of earshot to discuss me, that will be great!”
It’s like you’ve asked them for 2 million dollars or something because Jimin’s eyebrows have shot so far up his forward you’re worried that his eyes might fall out of their sockets. Seokjin is looking at you, really looking at you, for the first time it seems. Even you hadn’t expected to lose your cool because you’re slapping your hand over your mouth, knowing you have definitely screwed up now if you hadn’t already.
“Oh?” Jimin’s tone is mocking and amused. Showing how unexpected your outburst was.
“It seems that our little maid has a spine after all?” He walks to you like a predator ready to trap his prey and it sends a chill down your spine.
Jimin was attractive.
That much was obvious. Somehow his soft features didn’t translate to his personality, he didn’t seem human in the way he addressed you. His tone was almost vindictive. Like he couldn’t believe that someone of your stature would talk back to him. As much as it didn’t make sense, you looked back at Seokjin out of instinct. As if he could save you from whatever Jimin will inflict on you. Which was ridiculous given that moments ago you were ready to strangle him.
“I-I don’t appreciate being treated like a toy.” Chin up, feigning all the faux confidence you could conjure, you stand your ground.
Jimin’s cackle is like needles in your skin. It makes you hot and cold at the same time. Walking over to you, he’s merely a few inches away. Clearly trying to intimidate you as he’s done before. The scent of his cologne hits your nostrils and you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from taking a deep inhale. Perfumes were your weakness. Seeing him up close again is enough to remind you of the last time. But you were more prepared now. No way you were going to let him kiss you again.
He brings up a jewelled hand, twirling the stray strand of hair that was framing your face. “Oh darling…. But you are a toy.”
His smile is so big and endearing - had you not already recognised the evil twinkle in his eyes. How dare he?! Your hands balling into fists, nostrils flaring from the sheer anger that you felt right now. This was one of those moments you would surely regret later on. Because you were about to slap the living daylights out of him.
“Let her do her actual job Jimin-ah. I believe we have things to discuss.”
Seokjin’s command is Jimin’s - and perhaps yours too - saving grace. He’s turning on his heels swiftly walking to where his brother lounged. You have to take a deep breath, snapping yourself out of it before you say something that might get you fired for real.
“Oh, y/n, bring me a glass of champagne too while you’re at it.” Jimin winks at you and you scurry out of the room without even responding.
This family was crazy.
_____________________
Champagne? Seokjin wondered what his brother had done in just a week to warrant a celebration.
“Is this another premature celebration Jimin? You know it ruins all the fun when you end up failing. For you that is. It’s very entertaining for me.”
Jimin is flipping him the finger as he sits down, changing the channels until it lands on something he is vaguely paying attention to.
“That was very rude you little shit. I was watching that.”
“Hyung, they were playing rugrats. You’re 27 now. Watch Naruto or something.”
“Tell me why you’re here before I kick your ass.”
“Wow, being around servants has turned you into a commoner too, huh?” Jimin is clicking his tongue like he's gravely disappointed. Obviously referring to you.
The mention isn’t healthy for Seokjin right now. He’s spent far too much time thinking of last week and the phone call he’d witnessed. Though the majority of that regret was not actually kissing you when he had the chance. Your lips had haunted his dreams too many times. This was an odd activity for his brain and he was now worried if you carried some sort of disease that caused all his brain waves to malfunction and make him think solely about you.
Jimin throws up his hands in defence when Seokjin remains unamused, moving a little closer to talk in a much more hushed tone.
“Okay okay. Hold off on the dick measuring. I’m here to tell you when we’re going to put the ‘plan’ into motion.”
Jin arches a brow in question. So soon?
“The family dinner is tomorrow. Most of the staff will be gone so less witnesses.”
“Is… the girl working the night? I don’t think essential staff includes the cleaners.”
Jimin smiles wide like he always does when he’s up to something. Though to be fair, he is always up to something.
“She isn’t but leave that to me.”
“Wasn’t gonna help.” Seokjin shrugs, feeling slightly ticked at his brother’s suggestion.
What was he up to now and why did Jin feel the need to protect you from Jimin’s devious plans?
325 notes · View notes
fridayfirefly · 4 years
Text
Lost and Found [Part Nine]
Masterlist | Ao3
It took Damian two weeks to get Marinette's bedroom prepared for her. Fixing up the guest bedrooms of Wayne Manor was a task that Alfred usually undertook. However, Alfred was busy with wedding preparations, and Damian wanted everything to be perfect for Marinette's upcoming visit, so he took it upon himself to get everything ready for Marinette's stay.
Damian hadn't realized how many guest bedrooms Wayne Manor had until it was time for him to choose one for Marinette. It wasn't an easy choice. Despite the fact that Alfred was meticulous in his upkeep of Wayne Manor, most of the guest bedrooms had been overlooked during the various renovations of the house. Friends of the family (such as the Kents) slept in the family wing when they stayed the night, so there was never any reason to maintain the guest bedrooms. However, the upcoming wedding meant that some changes were necessary. There simply weren't enough rooms in the family wing to house all of the wedding guests, so a strict "Bats Only" policy (Richard's words, not Damian's) was put into place for the family wing. So Damian had to find Marinette a suitable room somewhere else in the house.
Damian toured every guest bedroom in Wayne Manor before choosing the best one. It was his room of choice for many reasons. It was only one hall down from his own bedroom. It was painted rose pink, one of Marinette's favorite colors. Most importantly, it had east-facing windows, which meant that it faced the Wayne Manor gardens. Marinette had spoken at length about how she found nature to be an inspiration for her designs. The Wayne Manor gardens were considered some of the best in Gotham. Damian hoped that Marinette approved of the room.
Choosing the perfect room was difficult, but decorating it came in a close second. Alfred had done a quick renovation of all the guest bedrooms at the start of the summer, so they were all perfectly livable, but Damian didn't want to put Marinette in just any guest bedroom. He wanted it to feel personal, to show her that he cared about her enough to make it feel like home.
Damian brought his box of Marinette's things to her new room and got to work decorating. After five years at Wayne Manor, Damian no longer kept the box hidden in his closet. He kept her lost things in a wooden chest pressed up against the footboard of his bed. Now, that chest sat in Marinette's new room. Her lost clothes were hung up in her closet. Her lost pens and markers were put into a desk drawer. Barrettes and scrunchies were placed in a dresser drawer, chapstick and hand lotion put in her bathroom, the stuffed animal cat she sent to him years ago when he complained of nightmares was placed at the foot of her bed.
Damian got new things for her, too. Vases decorated the bedroom, though they would be empty until the morning of Marinette's arrival, to prevent the fresh flowers from wilting. Art decorated the wall of the bedroom, as well as three strings of fairy lights (once, Marinette commented to Damian that she had trouble falling asleep in complete darkness since she was so used to the lights of the city).
Decorating the room reminded Damian of all the progress he had made since he first came to live with his Father. Five years ago, he would have found it impossible to give Marinette her things back. He hoarded everything special to him back then, still traumatized from his childhood in the League of Shadows. Now, after years of talking with Marinette, he felt comfortable enough in his relationship with his Soulmate to finally return her lost things to her.
Two days after Damian finished getting the room ready for Marinette, the Kents arrived. Jon had his own room to prepare for his own Soulmate, Nino, who was also attending the wedding.
"Are you ever going to tell her that you're a Wayne, or are you planning on waiting until she recognizes you in the airport to let her know?" Jon asked from across the guest bedroom.
Damian refused to dignify that question with a proper answer. "Do you want my help getting the room ready, or did you just ask me here so that you could criticize me?"
"Damian, I'm being serious. Marinette is going to be here - at Wayne Manor - in nine days. Whether or not you tell her beforehand isn't going to stop her from recognizing you."
"It's complicated. I would rather tell her in person than through a letter, but there's no way for me to do that without our meeting first. She is French, though, so there's a possibility that she wouldn't recognize me on sight."
"She'll recognize the name though. The Wayne family isn't just famous in America. You're like the royal family of Gotham."
Damian wrinkled his nose. "Stop. Don't say it."
"The Ice Prince of Gotham," Jon teased.
"You know how much I loathe that nickname."
"I just think it's funny," laughed Jon. "The media thinks you're cold and arrogant when in reality you're a closet romantic who's planning on hand-picking flowers for his girlfriend's room."
"Marinette and I aren't officially dating."
"I bet you twenty dollars that the two of you will be official by the time she gets on her plane to return home."
"I don't gamble," Damian grumbled, but his retort was half-hearted at best.
"If you want to date her, you should just ask. The week that she's here at Wayne Manor would be the best time to do it. It's always best to do that sort of thing in person."
"I'm not sure-"
"Just consider it. I'm sure you'll spare both of you a lot of drama if you just ask her out already."
"I'll think about it," Damian agreed.
"Good. Now help me move some furniture around."
"You have super-strength," Damian rolled his eyes. "You don't need me to help you."
"Yeah, but it's not like you have anything better to do, except wait for Marinette to arrive."
Damian shrugged. "It might be amusing to watch you struggle to maneuver furniture through the hallways."
"Or you could help me, and I'll put in a good word for you to Marinette."
"She doesn't even know you. Your 'good word' wouldn't mean anything to her."
"I'm naturally likable. We'll be friends within a day. I guarantee it."
"Is that a bet, Kent?"
"If you want it to be, Wayne."
"Twenty dollars says that she doesn't find your golden retriever personality charming."
"Okay. Twenty dollars says that we'll be sharing memes by the end of the wedding."
Damian picked a lamp up off of the nightstand and lobbed it at Jon's head. Jon caught it with one hand, and set it back down. "By the way, do you think Bruce would mind me borrowing a car next Wednesday? Nino's flight arrives at 2 AM, and I don't trust Gotham taxis."
Damian's eyes narrowed slightly, suspicious of the coincidence. "Is it an American Airlines flight from Paris?"
Jon checked his phone. "How did you know?"
"That's the flight that Marinette is arriving on."
"What an odd coincidence," remarked Jon. "I suppose we can drive together, then."
"Sure," replied Damian. He paused a moment to ponder the realization that had just occurred. "I wonder if Marinette and Nino know each other."
"Wouldn't that be serendipitous, if our Soulmates were already friends."
"It's probably just a coincidence," said Damian, but the thought stuck with him the whole rest of the day.
——————————————————————
The drive to the airport was rather animated, for it being 1 AM. Jon spent the entire drive announcing exactly how many minutes until he got to see Nino in person for the first time. Damian rolled his eyes every time, but in reality, while he didn't outwardly show it, he was just as excited to see Marinette in person.
Jon was practically vibrating as Damian parked the car in the airport parking lot. "Fifteen more minutes until their plane lands."
Damian let out a deep breath as they walked through the airport, feeling unexpectedly anxious. Maybe he should have told Marinette about his rather prestigious family name. Would she resent him for keeping it a secret for so long?
What Damian didn't expect to see when they entered the airport terminal was his brother Jason, who stood off to the side, glaring at his phone like it personally offended him.
"Todd?"
Jason's glare turned to Damian. "What are you doing here? Did Bruce send you?"
"No. We're here to pick someone up."
"Who? I thought everyone was already in town for the wedding."
"My Soulmate, Marinette," Damian admitted.
"And Nino, my Soulmate. They're arriving on the same flight," said Jon.
"American Airlines from Paris? Arriving at two AM?"
Damian nodded, already feeling a sense of déjà vu back to his conversation with Jon just a week prior.
"My Soulmate is on that flight. I invited her to Dick's wedding."
"And where is this Soulmate of yours going to stay? Your one-bedroom apartment?"
Jason shook his head. "I was planning on dropping her off at the Manor. I already checked in with Alfred."
"Dropping her off? You aren't staying?" asked Damian.
"No," Jason wrinkled his nose. "It's not as if that's a surprise. You know that I wouldn't last another week under Bruce's roof."
Damian did know that - Jason and his Father fought every chance that they could get. Anything was fair game to be ruined by Jason and Bruce's tumultuous relationship - family dinners, birthday parties, even Dick's engagement party ended with Jason storming out. "Does your Soulmate know that you're dropping them off at someone else's house and then leaving?" Damian further inquired.
Jason glared at Damian. "I'm sure she'll survive."
"Do you really want to piss off your Soulmate on her first day in Gotham? You're pretty much setting yourself up for failure."
"Well, if you're the Soulmate expert now," Jason's sarcasm was scathing. "What do you suggest I do."
"Wait here until the plane arrives so that you can properly greet your Soulmate. Then, Jon and I will drive your Soulmate back to the Manor while you return to your apartment and pack your bags to stay at the Manor for the rest of the week."
"No."
"Alfred already got your room ready earlier this week."
Jason paused for a second. Damian knew that while Jason could barely stand to be in Bruce's presence, he was still fond of Alfred, and viewed his as something of a father figure. "Fine. But before you two ask, Chloé is my platonic Soulmate."
"And you're telling us this because..." Damian questioned.
"She's seventeen."
Damian's eyes widened, for two reasons. The first reason was that Jason was twenty-two years old. Five years older than his Soulmate. The other reason was that both Marinette and Nino, his and Jon's Soulmates, were aged within a year of Chloé. The probability that the three Parisians knew each other wasn't certain, but it was likely.
"Don't give me that look," snapped Jason. "Our bond is strictly platonic. Just because Bruce doesn't believe that I have any morals doesn't mean I'm into underage girls."
"I'm not judging you," Damian said cooly. "I merely found it interesting that all three of our Soulmates are approximately the same age, and all three are arriving on the same flight."
"Do you think they all know each other?" asked Jon.
Damian shrugged. "It's completely possible that they might."
"Well, wouldn't that be a funny little coincidence," scoffed Jason. "My Chloé who - mind you - I only met after I was brutally murdered and revived by the Lazarus Pit, and your Soulmate, the girl who's first Soulmate object was a knife, might know each other."
"Don't forget about my Soulmate," piped up Jon. "Nino's pretty cool too."
Jason barked out a laugh. "God, our lives are so fucked up, I guess this might as well happen."
"By the way," said Jon. "The plane is landing now."
Damian's eyes immediately darted over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The bright lights on the landing plane were the first thing that caught his eye. He watched as the plane hit the runway, then slid to halt on the tarmac.
"Just a few more minutes," Jon cheered. "Just a few more minutes until Nino gets here."
"Is he always so painfully optimistic?" asked Jason.
"Only when he's awake," Damian responded. "You get used to it, after a while, but it can be kind of jarring at first."
Jason shrugged. "I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to get used to it during my two-week stay at the Manor."
Jon rolled his eyes. "Why is it that you two can only have a civil conversation when you're being mean to someone else?"
"Todd is like that with just about everyone," Damian responded.
"Shush, they're coming," Jon interjected.
The first-class passengers of the plane started filtering into the terminal. Damian briefly wondered if he should have made a sign before he pushed the idea away. It was too late now.
Besides, Damian figured that he would know Marinette when he saw her. It was a common theory that your Soulmate was the most attractive person in the world for you - that every feature you ever found attractive on someone else was ultimately because it was a feature that could be found on your own Soulmate. If that was true than Marinette would have blue eyes and dark hair, a light dusting of freckles across her nose, and a smile that could light up a whole room. No matter what she looked like, though, Damian knew that he would love her. He had already fallen in love with her, and he hadn't even met her in person yet.
Damian froze. It had always been a thought that lingered at the back of his mind, but he had yet to admit it to himself. He was in love with Marinette.
"There's Nino," Jon rushed forward to greet a spectacled boy wearing a pair of headphones around his neck.
"That must be Chloé," Jason sighed, gesturing to a blonde girl, texting away on her phone.
And then he saw her. Marinette.
She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Shiny dark hair, gorgeous blue eyes, freckles - she was everything that he imagined and yet more because she was real and right in front of him.
"Hello, Damian," Marinette greeted with a smile.
Damian was right about that prediction too. Her smile was bright, and it made him feel warm inside. "Hello, Marinette. It's nice to finally meet you."
"It's nice to meet you, too." Marinette looked at him in the eyes. "I know it's a little late, but I have one last birthday gift to give you."
Damian was about to ask her what it was - because she didn't even have her luggage with her - when she leaned forward on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips.
Taglist: @fanboy7794 @mikantsume @hetalia-lover-is-here @howtoshuckatlife @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @redscarlet95 @derpingrainbow  @friedchickening @melicmusicmagic @proudgremlin @kunstner1 @shizukiryuu @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @crazylittlemunchkin @black-streak @darkshadowguardian @mystery-5-5 @trubel43 @fandomfan315 @vincentvangoose @royalchaoticfangirl @mooshoon @drama-queen-supreme @kae690 @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @zoerayne2426 @littleredrobinhoodlum @lunar-wolf-warrior @dani-ari @sam-spectra @be-happy-every-day-please @xxmadamjinxx @interobanginyourmom @northernbluetongue @eliza-bich @romanoff-queen @scribblinggraveyard @dur55 @jeminiikrystal @sassakitty @miss-mysterys-blog @aegyobutpsycho2 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @chaosace @pepelachanel
117 notes · View notes
zankivich · 5 years
Text
The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 15
a/n: I don’t have much to say. This chapter is short, but necessary. The world is dying. The fandom is gone. I’m not sure if there’s much of a point anymore, but y’all said you wanted it so...here it is.
*y/n’s point of view*
“Why are you here Shawn!”
“Because! I need you to be my manager!”
“Excuse me? Did you stop to smoke crack while you were running from the subway?!” You screeched.
He rolled his eyes up at you. “No ma’am, I did not. Just let me explain okay?”
“Shawn this is completely illogical! You cannot just run pounding on my door at any odd hour of the night with some half baked ass scheme--”
“Y/N!” He screamed silencing you quickly. “Stop yelling. Sit down. I’m going to explain it to you and then we can have a conversation like normal human beings, okay?”
No man, let alone a white one, had ever had the audacity to speak to you in such a manner. It had only been Shawn who seemed to lack an evolutionary response to fear the wrath of a black woman. If only it didn’t cause your back to straighten and your mouth to part. If only you didn’t like it just the slightest little bit. Asshole.
“Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” You huffed marching over to the couch.
He snorted as he got up off the floor.
“Yes, because god forbid you do something you’re not happy about without letting the entire world know, darling.”
You rolled your eyes down at the ground and tried to hide the fact that his pet names still made your heart ache. Sheesh.
He stood in front of you, towering over you for a second in a way that simply had no right to make your mouth water. But it’d been months and you were lonely and you missed him in more ways than one. Then he dropped down to his knees before you and reached for your hands, and the lust immediately melted to a gooey center. Cause beyond everything he was still the softest, kindest human you’d ever met. He still made you calm, made you happy, made you infinitely better than you ever were without him.
“I quit.” He started.
You immediately frowned. “Huh?”
“I quit my job. I walked out on all of it, y/n.”
“....Are you out of your goddamn mind?!”
You went to pull away from his hands, only for him to squeeze tighter and move closer. The fact that he could remain calm in this moment baffled you beyond belief.
“No. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever been clearer.”
“Shawn...The whole entire point was that he was going to give you your masters and your contract. Why in the entire world would you walk out on that opportunity? It’s everything you ever wanted.”
He nodded and his hands tightened around yours.
“Because it wasn’t worth it.” He murmured. “I had something that mattered to me more.”
You immediately shook your head. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and it felt like the walls were closing in. EVerything that you had gone through. All the emotional hoops you had to jump through to let him go. The pain and the heartache and the loss. All for him to squander the bigger picture. Why?
“No. No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to choose me over the very thing you’ve wanted since you were fourteen years old, Shawn. I’m not gonna let you.”
You tried to pull away once again but he only held you closer, only looked up at you more directly so that you couldn’t get out of being in that moment with him.
He smiled. “I know. I know now that that’s why you did it. Though I do wish you would’ve just talked to me instead.”
“I knew you’d never do it if I didn’t make you.” You whispered.
“Of course I wouldn’t...What would ever make you think that fame could mean more to me than you?”
“But...But it’s what you always wanted.” You stared in utter confusion. “Music, it’s your pulse. It’s what makes you, you.”
He let go of your hand and reached instead for your cheek, palm warm and large and all consuming.
“All I ever wanted was to be able to create music, and sing, and perform.” He explained. “And you gave that to me y/n. You. You restored anything he ever took from me. I didn’t need more. All I wanted was you.”
You didn’t mean to cry. You really didn’t. But there’s something about him choosing you that shakes you to your very core. It matters. It’s one thing to know your own worth and know what you deserve. It’s another thing entirely to have someone affirm that so fully and so empathetically. Not only had you thought you were making the right decision, you thought it would ultimately be what you wanted. You couldn’t have prepared to be so wrong. You couldn't prepare for him to love you in a way that was more meaningful than music. Because that had to mean that you meant more to him than maybe anything in the world.
“Well….shit.” You sniffled blinking away tears.
He chuckled and reached to press a kiss against your forehead. You closed your eyes and let yourself drink him in. The smell of his cologne. The feel of his curls against your forehead His warmth. He pulled back and looked you in the eye and you felt more at home than you had in weeks. Then he peered down at his watch and was immediately up off the floor.
“Shit, we’re late. Let’s go.” He muttered.
“What?”
“I’ll explain in the car. Let’s go!”
***
*Shawn’s point of view*
His leg won’t stop shaking. He keeps bouncing with his fingers interwined and crossed in front of his face so that they can’t see how fucking teriified he is. It’s a room evenly split down the middle. To one side was him, y/n, and Teddy. The otherside was all music execs at Atlantic. Every song that played seemed to cause a visceral reaction for y/n. Mostly because it couldn’t have been more for her. He kept peering over at her and watching the way she sat in her seat. She couldn’t sit still at certain moments. He knew that ninety percent of all of her expressions came from her hands, and so she sat on them mid-way through. It was a lot to ask of her, and at one point he thought maybe it was too much. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone for the shock and awe and maybe he should have just left her out of it. But then, Fallin’ All In You comes on and her face lights up and he knows that he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was for her. And therefore she needed to be in that room if it was going to be the moment that changed his whole entire life.
The final song comes to a close and there’s a beat of silence where it feels like his heart might explode out of his chest. All these weeks with these songs in his head and his heart, when all he could think, breathe, eat, was about her in someway. All of it now was on a record that might seal his fate, might completely lead him to a new world outside of his dad’s control. Enter Andrew.
“So that is...without a doubt one of the best albums of the year.” He stated.
His eyes widened, heart plummeting into his stomach.
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “Absolutely. So here’s what I’m gonna do for you. I will happily sign you, Mendes Industries be damned. It’s burning a bridge, but the impact that you’re gonna have on the music industry will cover that tenfold. Atlantic is in. We want you. We want this record. Tell me what you need to make that happen.”
His lips parted in shock and he looked to none other than y/n as his brain completely stalled. In his moment of weakness she sprang up like a fucking gazelle and launched straight into a type of professionalism that made him both weak in the knees and frankly hard in the pants.
“I will be representing him in all legal proceedings until a permanent manager has been vetted by both me and the client. I will need the contract with all monetary gains to the record company highlighted and dotted. Either you can do that now or be rest assured that I will. We will not be doing a three-sixty deal. We are only interested in a one year contract contingent on the sales of the album, which you and I both know will come through based off the strategic marketing plan for a face like that. He will retain all final say on singles, album track lists, and production rights on this album as well as future albums though that can be negotiated at a later date with another contract. We will require a minimum of seventy-two hours to review and consult counsel before any negotiations continue. So would you like to email me, or do you have a physical copy ready for me?”
Andrew looked at y/n and then looked at Shawn. And then back to y/n. And then back to Shawn. He just shrugged and nodded back in her direction. His girlfriend had always been a complete and total badass afterall. He was kind of just there to look pretty and sing.
“I will...get that drafted for you right now. One moment.”
Andrew leaves the room and it’s like he can breathe for the first time. And the second enough oxygen gets to his brain he can’t help but remember that the sole reason for this moment is her. The only logical conclusion was to jump into her chair and smother her with love and affection the way that she deserved.
“You are literally a human golden retriever!” She gasped as he crawled into her lap.
His legs spilled out the arm of the chair as he wrapped her arms around her and squeezed. For added measure he licked her cheek to prove her point. She glared at him. Apparently she didn’t like it very much.
“Never. Again.” She wagged her finger at him.
“So this is what true love looks like huh?” Teddy asked from her seat.
Shawn simply looked at y/n and beamed happily.
“Yea.”
She rolled her eyes at him but nodded as well.
“Apparently. Now get off me honkey, I need to remain professional.”
“Yes dear!” He sing-sang climbing out of her seat.
Teddy simply continued to stare at the two of them in utter confusion.
“Oh she means in with love. A love rooted in the reality of a white supremacist country that will always prioritize my life and my worth over hers simply because I’m pale and have a dick. It works to off-set the power imbalance between us.” He explained. “And she’s just incredibly cute.”
Y/n looked over at him and grinned happily.
“That’s my guy.”
***
“So...You’re not signing with your father?” She asked him.
He nodded his head.
“And you quit your job?”
He nodded.
“And he cut you off entirely?”
Another nod.
“But you’re gonna sign with Atlantic who...according to this contract is going to pay you a premium of a hundred thousand dollars for your album, all to be paid back upon royalties of course. And you’re going to do an optional clause of two additional singles after that album?”
He nodded. “That’s what I hear.”
“And you’re not gonna go after your dad for your masters?”
“Nope. I’ve realized that I’d rather put energy into the now and into my future than to dwell on the past. Also I have a feeling if the album is successful that Atlantic might take him to court once I accidentally let it slip that there’s two hundred songs of material hiding somewhere.”
“And you made this decision...when?”
“Well...My girlfriend left me despite being just as in love with me as I was her.” He paused for dramatic effect and to take in the roll of her eyes that he’d missed so much. “And at first I was just gonna quit entirely. Music. The industry. All of it. But then I realized how much I really did care about it. And I thought that...If I was gonna say fuck it, I might as well go for it ya know? Just so there were no ifs. I’m cut off and my dad will probably never give me another dime so, might as well give the whole singer thing a try, right?”
Y/n stared at him, eyes wide and tired and maybe still a little soft.
“Of all the people in the world.” She sighed to herself. “Let’s get a few things straight. I won’t manage you. I will simply identify the correct path for you to be on and then move you there. I will pay myself a generous fee for this aid, but once we find you a manager I will do no work with you professionally.”
He smiled dumbly up at her. “And why is that, y/n? What could possibly stop you from doing any professional work with me?”
There was a fly on the wall. A building sized elephant in the room if you will. She had followed him into the fire, had held tightly to his hand in the flames, all without admitting that such a notion could only be rooted in love. But he knew. He knew more than anyone the way she’d opened up her heart to him. The way she let him make himself comfortable inside her being and her spirit. He knew that she loved him endlessly in the exact way that he loved her. The only thing left to do was to get her to admit it.
“Don’t make me say it.” She mumbled .
“I’ll say it for you then...You love me my darling. And I love you. And apparently nothing can tear us apart. Not even my dad who is like the cheesiest villain of all time.”
“I mean...Yes. Obviously.”
He chuckled. “Come here.”
She moved slowly into his lap. And for a moment he just held her. Wrapped his arms around her back and hugged her fiercely. He didn’t think that the world hugged enough, and he had this thought that if she let him he’d hug her every day for the rest of forever. Her head rested against his shoulder and her fingers danced in his hair. He was complete in every sense of the word.
“Why is it so scary to admit that you love me?” He asked her honestly. “Would it really be such a terrible thing?”
Her fingers tightened in his hair and she pressed a little closer against him.
“No. No it wouldn’t. It’s just scary to admit that I almost gave up on us for no reason. I can’t believe how naive and how dumb I must have been to believe I could ever be without you.”
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes with that soft kind of fondness that made his bones feel like jelly.
“Really?”
She nodded. “You have to know that I only did it out of love. I knew you were it for me, and I knew that it would be the most painful thing I’d ever experienced, but I still had to do it. I knew that you loved music more than anything in the world and I just wanted you to have that.”
“Hey, I know. And I’m not angry at you.” He assured her, casually squeezing at her waist. “Just know that...music was the most important thing that’s happened to me in my whole entire life. But that was before I met you. And you don’t get to tell me that I can’t choose you, alright? No one does. You’re it. I’d pick you any second of any day, and I’d be more than happy with that decision. You don’t get to tell me not to love you.”
She bit her lip and stared at him with those big ole’ eyes of hers looking more like a scorned puppy than anyone had the right to.
“You know no one has ever spoken to me like that in all of my days right?”
“Yep. Looks like you were just waiting for me to come around. I promise I’ll make it worth it though.”
“Yea?” She grinned leaning close so that their lips hovered over one another’s.
“Yea. Let me show you.”
And he closed the distance between their lips.
Permanent taglist 
@simpledomain @liliane106 @thecurlsofgod @lifeoftheparty74 @xeuphorically-moonstruck @euphoric05 @daijanicole @bruhh-whateven @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @decewill @goldiean @bitchacho25 @bruhh-whateven @justbeingoceana @loveylangdon @iloveshawnieboi @justbeingoceana @september-lace @valedictorian65 @disaster-rose @dimestorebieber22 @MixerMani @qcoachcartier   @justbeingoceana @kamahriii @sinplisticshawn @disaster-rose
Arrangement Taglist: 
@moonlightmendes22  @cottoncandyshawn @iloveshawnieboi @shawnsblue
@claredolphinbear24 @peterbrokenparker @blackharry @shawnwyr @speakingofmari @moniehp @softmendesss @ydolansss  @chonmnds @MixerMani @kitykatnumber  @lanallaa @palhacomendes @mendesficsxbombay
155 notes · View notes
cb-143 · 4 years
Text
Awakening You - Incubus!Changbin x fem [smut]
Tumblr media
wc: ~2.1k warnings: incubus, smut, cunnilingus, corruption kink a/n: Big Thank you to my boyfriend for drawing me this cool ass concept art  😍
The cosiest time of the year was winter time. It was just five in the evening, yet the sky outside was as dark as it would get, the heater was cranked up and emitted just enough heat for a comfortable warmth. Additionally, she lay a thick wool blanket across her lap when she sat by her desk to do her homework.
School had finished at three today, she made it home with her car in just about fifteen minutes. The streets had been empty and on the way she had tried to forget about the topics of the boring lecture and instead focus on what chores were left to do for the day.
She could start cooking in an hour, maybe clean the kitchen once she was done eating. For now, she focused on reading the materials for the next lecture that awaited her tomorrow in the afternoon.
Needless to say, she was a diligent student, a kind hearted girl with perhaps too much trust in the world and its people. Thus, when a strange man knocked on the window of her second-story room, she let him in (once the initial surprise of the absurd situation had faded).
The man was dressed in a frilly white shirt, above he wore an elegant furr like coat, as well as black trousers. Around his neck he wore a golden chain that showed of a satanic looking symbol, much different from the cross that she wore around her own neck.
His hair was a dark brown, long enough for him being able to tie it into a ponytail. She sensed that he meant danger, yet she also didn't fail to notice that he had something else about him, something good.
"So, this is your room, huh?" The man smirked. Y/N noticed the dark, rich colour of his lips. He walked over and picked up the white teddy bear that had been sleeping on her neatly made bed. "How cute." Choosing a more comfortable approach, he first sat down and then laid down on her bed, shoes on, and looked around from there. "So neat. So... adorable." He spat the last word in a tone far too bitter.
"Who are you?" Y/N finally asked. She felt as if frozen in her place.
"I am the lucky bastard who got to watch you the past couple of weeks." He started – had he been stalking her? "I was scouring this town for my next potential toy, but I found you and for some reason, I could never let go of you. Do you have any idea how annoying you are? Acting like you're such a perfect fucking angel, the complete opposite of me. At first I thought it was all an act, there had to be more right? But no, you're so stupidly naive, too innocent to function properly in this shitty, broken down society." He spat the harsh words at her. By now Y/N felt scared of this man, why had he been watching her, who and he was he? She felt confused about this entire situation. When she heard his critique, she felt tears come to her eyes.
"So I figured, I gotta help you, eh? Help you as you help me. You'll be my good, little toy for a while and I will show how things really work around here."
He got back up from her bed then, striding in big steps to where she stood, trembling.
"What do you say, darling?" He spoke in a low, husky voice. Y/N heard her heart beat faster.
"I don't even know your name." It felt stupid to say, there were many things she could have said to object to his suggestion and yet it was what she wanted to know the most.
"Call me Changbin." Changbin said.
"Changbin." She replied, it was barely a whisper. Changbin nodded, his eyes scanned her, from her hair down to the yellow socks she wore.
"Lay down, doll. I'll go easy on you, show you a good time." He smirked, "Then I shall teach you how to please me."
She listened to his words, crawling onto the bed, right where he laid before. Changbin followed shortly after. He said down by her side, right next to where her hip was. His hands were cold when they met the skin of her belly, though he slid underneath her shirt without any hesitation.
"It's alright if I take this off, isn't it? You won't mind, right, doll?" She didn't reply, but merely shook her head. "Very good, doll. That's what I like to hear." She struggled to push herself up when he pulled her shirt over her body. Her arms were weak and so she was thankful when she could lean back down and Changbin could pull the shirt off her arms. He placed it neatly on the other side of the bed, seemingly in no rush. Then, he took his time to admire her white, lacy bra. Everything about her seemed innocent. From the things he had seen of her in the last weeks, down to her very core which he would soon meet. She was enticing, a delicious treat just for himself. All of his frustrations that she made him feel, he could let it out now.
The corners of Changbin's lips twitched, involuntarily, he showed off his fang-like teeth.
He opened the button of her trousers, then slowly he pulled down the zipper.
"Can you lift your butt, doll?" he requested. She complied, and he took the clothing off her.
Her panties seemed to match the colour and pattern of her bra. His mouth watered. He wanted to taste her. Would she taste as sweet and innocent as she was? There was a hint of something else; he first noticed the scent, then saw a spot of her panties getting darker and damp.
"Is my little dolly getting wet?" He teased her, "Do you want me to help you with that?"
“Please, Changbin.” She heard herself beg. Her sex felt as if aching, she desperately wanted to rub her thighs together, to create friction of any sort. Yet, she felt ashamed of another man seeing her this way. Never in her life did she feel this needy, this aroused.
Changbin pulled her panties off, too. Then, the mattress dipped as he shuffled around and changed into a spot that had him face to face with her hot, wet sex.
He did not hesitate this time, but he touched her right away. Flatly, his tongue made contact with her swollen pussy. It went past her lips and went straight for her little clit. Y/N's legs were shaking and Changbin had to hold her by her knees to keep her still. He began to suck on her small bud and Y/N gasped for air. Never had she felt a sensation such as this one before. It was so much, it was too intense and she let out a high pitched, loud noise that she had never made before.
One of Changbin's hands left his grip on her knee to penetrate her with two of his fingers. Deeply, he plunged into her wet hole. Her walls hugged his fingers. She was so tight, Changbin felt himself grow hard at the thought of fucking her with his dick.
He let off her clit, began to finger her as he circled her clit with the tip of his tongue. He licked around it, pleasured her while saving the taste of her cunt. She made delicious noises, they were divine sounds of an angel, something he surely was not worthy of, yet he greedily wanted to hear them. He felt pride in being the one to cause them – Changbin chuckled darkly against her pussy.
“Look at you now, doll,” He pulled  off her, “Being such a pretty slut for me. What's happened to my little angel from before?”  He mocked her. Y/N sniffled, his actions had made her head spin and now his words drove her all the more crazy. She wasn't sure whether she could take all the pleasure that he could give her, but she wanted it.
“Please keep going.” She asked of him.
“Keep going?” He echoed. “What do you want me to do, doll? Tell me what you want me to do to you.” His pride was ever growing, he was aroused and he loved seeing Y/N like this. So different, she was his.
“Kiss me.” She demanded. It was as innocent as it was hot to him. Changbin pulled himself up again and put his lips, stained with her juices, on her mouth. He noticed how soft her lips were; the way she kissed him back was timid and unsure. He barely cared for it, he kissed her with parted lips. Changbin forced his tongue inside her mouth to slide it around hers. She was inexperienced, yet she tried to copy his actions.
They kissed in this way, both found themselves unable to keep their hands of each other. Y/N's hands held his cheeks, Changbin's hands felt her sides, her soft belly, her more than perfect breasts. She had perfect little nipples, he circled them with his thumb, before his mouth was dragged back to her body. He kissed her breasts, he took her nipple in his mouth, his right hand went down to her wet pussy.
“Please-” She asked and grabbed his wrist. He stopped, pulled back to look at her reddened cheeks. He saw her eyes glistening.
“Is this too much?” He asked. She shook her head.
“Please, make love to me.” She begged of him. It was a beautiful sound.
“You want me to make love to you, doll?” He asked.
“I really want that so much!” She insisted.
Changbin was pleased. After all this time, he could have her. He could ruin her.
He sat back, opened the button and then the zipper of his black pants and pushed them down just far enough to retrieve his cock. He gripped the base with his hand. It was hard, he was aching with arousal as much as she was.
“You want this?” He teased her. Y/N nodded, giving him her divine consent yet again. Changbin reached into the pockets of his trousers. They were by his knees. He pulled out a condom.
After having put it on, he lined up the tip of his big, girthy cock with her entrance. Momentarily, his eyes fluttered to hers; he found curiosity, arousal, a hint of fear. He smelled her arousal, more than anything.
“I'll go slow,” he promised. He wanted to ruin her, wanted to claim her as his. For this, he wanted this to be an experience as pleasant for her as it would be for him. “I'll wait for you to adjust once I'm all the way in. You can tell me when I can move.” Y/N nodded at him and Changbin kept his promise. Slowly, inch by inch, he entered her. She was tighter than any of his other little toys. Yet she felt warm and wet and so fucking good around him. He wanted to pound into her. He bit down on his lip, anticipating what was about to come.
Y/N's eyes were shut, he was stretching her – it didn't hurt so much as it felt foreign. Foreign, but pleasant because never in her life had she felt so full before. He filled her so well and she wanted him to move, to make her feel good and to make love to her.
Changbin moved then, his cock went in and out of her pussy and it caused her to moan. His lips attached to her neck, kissing her wet and sloppy while he moved in passionate strokes. Y/N's legs hugged his butt while he kept thrusting into her. She felt she was going to cum soon already. Never before had she experienced pleasure this great.
Changbin seemed to sense that.
“You close, doll?” He asked. He was panting, but keeping up his pace. His large hand, which had touched her before, squeezed in between their bodies to rub at her clit.
“I'm so close!” Y/N moaned.
“Cum for me, doll.” He instructed; Y/N listened and let go. Her orgasm washed over her intensely, moans escaped her, her pussy clenched down on him in rhythmic twitches. The sensation milked Changbin and he shot his load into the condom.
It was mere moments later that the condom was discarded into the bin. Another moment and he was dressed again. In the same, demonic looking, menacing outfit. He walked to her window, just where he had come from.
“I'll visit you another day.” He nodded at his own promise. “Until then, you shall remain mine.”
28 notes · View notes
miss-choco-chips · 5 years
Text
Brother
The journey from Vodka Aunt to Wine Mom starts with Scottish coffee.
Or, Nicole totally thought this through, shut up Janet.
----.----
Nicole had believed -she had believed it would be… not easy, but easier than it had been, for Janet. She had been blindsided, after all, and completely out of her depth. Nicole, as she was now, had a good amount of practice under her belt- almost thirteen years of it. She shouldn’t be as clumsy about this as Jan had been, those first few weeks of Tim’s life.
In any other world, she would have been indifferent to the wounds, the verbal abuse, the disdain and blatant use of an innocent and manipulable mind. But here, now, she had been an aunt- a godmother, for almost thirteen years. Maybe it was Timmy’s kindness, absorbed into her bones via osmosis, maybe it was the maternal instinct Janet sometimes complained took over her life at irregular intervals to make her a better mother, maybe it was because he reminded her so much of her godson… but she just couldn’t stand it.
So she gathered her resources, called in a couple favors, took the child and disappeared into the night. That part was easy; Talia might be stronger, physically speaking, but Nicole’s mind could moon-walk circles around hers all day long.
But, what now? Back in Gotham as per her plan, where Talia couldn’t just waltz in and do as she wished without an angry bat breathing down her neck, but totally fucking lost as to what her next steps should be.
So she goes to Janet. If years of friendship aren’t enough to get her to help, she could always remind her of how it was thanks to Nicole’s contacts that she got Shiva as Tim’s self-defense teacher.
The bitch owes her.
----.----
Tim isn’t worried, exactly, when aunt Nicole power-walks into the tea room where mother and son are having breakfast -much more cozy than the dining room- and smiles tersely, asking if she could have a word with Janet. 
He is, though, when she asks him to leave the room. Because never before has Nicole cared that Tim heard what she talked with mom, be it a complain about some mutual acquaintance or some confidential information from one of her cases.
He leaves, of course, because he respects her enough, but sends one not-actually-scared -but-close-enough look at his mother on the way out.
The second the door is closed, he can hear Nicole blurting something out, and the deafening sound of a teacup crashing into the floor. He rushes his steps, stopping by his room to grab his camera before going outside. He doesn’t want to be there for the fall out, if mom’s initial reaction was to lose her grip on her cup. Maybe he should call uncle Lex, get a little vacation outside the city (and line of fire).
He’s entertaining the thoughts of asking for a lift via Lex Corp special jet towards Paris vs Japan, when he sees the kid sitting under his favorite tree.
He approaches, curious and tentative, and the kid looks up to him when he gets within arm distance (doesn’t look surprised, like he knew Tim was there all along). The moment he sees him clearly, though, Tim freezes.
The shape of his eyes. The color of his hair. The ears, the contorn of the face, the scowl. His skin might be tanner, and his irises a different tint, but he looks at the kid for less than a second and knows, without a doubt, that he’s looking at Bruce Wayne’s son. 
His heart might have stopped, but the mind is a wonderful thing that never stops working, and the next order of business is figuring out who the mother is. He remembers Nicole’s tight face, her venomous green eyes almost equal to this kid’s, and… Yeah, okay, so this is also Talia Al Ghul’s spawn. What the hell was Bruce thinking? Does Dick know? Does Bruce know?
-Stop looking at me like a buffon, or I’ll have your eyes removed -speaks up the kid, and Tim’s mind reminds him that, yeah, he isn’t looking at a picture, but a real, breathing human being. A six-or-seven year old being, despite his speech.
Manners kicking to the forefront of his head, he crouches down in front of the kid, camera dangling from his neck, all but forgotten by its owner for maybe the first time ever.
-Hey there. My name is Timothy Drake -he smiles, hand offered with kindness, but eyes sharp as he keeps on inspecting the face in front of his. That, and his name, seems to immediately change the kid’s opinion of him, because his eyes widen and he’s quick to return the greeting.
Aunt Nicole must have said something to him about Tim and his special position as Janet Drake’s son, because when the kid shakes his hand (calloused, with more than one scar, probably more used at handling a weapon than Tim is going to be at the end of his life), he’s being almost comically careful about it, as if he’s unsure about how much to squeeze or shake without hurting him. Nicole probably stressed into him about Tim being delicate and how he should handle him with care, which, bullshit, he’s not a baby anymore, not like this kid.
-I see. I’ve heard about you a lot from Aunt during my travels here. My name is Ibn al Xu’ffasch.
Tim blinks twice, smile firmly in place, hand holding lightly into the kid’s. There’s something ridiculous about Bruce’s kid literally being called ‘Son of the bat’.
-...my other name is Damian, Damian Al Ghul.
-I see. Which one do you prefer? 
This seems to baffle the kid, though he recovers quickly. Has anyone ever asked him for his preference on something as personal as his name?- You may address me as Damian.
-Okay then, Damian. I was going to go around the property for a walk, take some picture of animals. Why don’t you come with me? You can also tell me a little about yourself. With Nicole as your Aunt, we are sure to meet often.
----.----
-So you just… took the kid and ran.
-No, I had a well thought plan. And I didn’t ran. That’s undignified.
-Really, now.
-I couldn’t just leave him, Jan. He’s six.
-He’s a genetically engineered baby trained since birth by your psychotic sister in how to be a perfect killing machine. Excuse me if I think he can handle himself. But whatever, what’s done is done. What are you going to do now?
-I… I kinda hoped you’d tell me. 
-...I’ll tell the butler to prepare refreshments. This is going to be a long talk.
-Vodka?
-It’s nine in the morning, you unclassy fool. We are having Scottish coffee. Besides, you acquired a child, you can’t be the vodka aunt any longer. If anything, be the wine mom.
-No, I’m not adopting this kid. Rip to Bruce, but I’m not like him.
-Well, I’m not doing it for you either.
-I’m not asking that! I plan on giving him to his dad to look after, but he’s too…
-Murderous?
-...yeah, that. I’m going to try to ease him into normal society as much as I can before calling Wayne, to prevent a full blown out culture shock.
-This is Gotham, dear. You want normal society, go to Metropolis. But sure, I’ll help you with this. You might have to move into the Manor for a few weeks, though. Also, you are lucky Tim is on break right now, his innate kindness might help in this. But if your demonic nephew touches a single hair in Tim’s head, I’m throwing him to the sharks.
-Are you talking about reporters, the League of Assassins, or actual sharks?
-Yes.
----.----
Tim snaps a quick pic when the kid isn’t looking, because this is precious. 
Damian had been a proud little prick at first, refusing to show the interest shining in his eyes towards the multiple animals Tim introduced him to. But by the time they left behind the horse (the one Lex gave him on his tenth birthday), birds and fishes on the property’s pond, and moved into Tim’s pets, he had left his facade behind and did his best to pet every animal at the same time. He couldn’t, of course, didn’t have enough hands for all two cats, the dog and the bunny, but by god he tried. 
Sel, the female cat, had taken residence on the kid’s shoulders, lounging there like an Empress, judging them all from above (or as above as she could be, perched on such a small kid that was sitting down to boot). Her partner in crime and life, Alley, rubbed his head under Tim’s chin, comfortable in his human’s arms. 
Then, Max, his Golden Retriever dog. He was a sweetheart, and had charmed Damian in less than a minute, greeting him with enthusiastic licks at his hands and a furiously quick tail moving side to side. Damian had been blindsided by the utter cuteness of the dog immediately falling in love with him, and had responded in kind, dedicating almost half an hour to dote on him alone.
Now, almost two hours after meeting the kid, Tim couldn’t help but snap another picture of Damian, sitting on the ground in front of Tim, one hand petting Max who had laid by his side, the other one carefully stroking Butter the Bunny’s head while he rests on his lap. Sel occasionally nudges her head against his cheek to demand for attention, that he gladly provides, and everything seems out of a Disney movie.
He knows this kid is dangerous. Because he is Nicole’s relative, because his eyes are always scanning their surroundings for threats, because his hand is the hand of a warrior. 
But he looks up at Tim when Sel gives a tiny lick to his check, looking as if he’d been blessed by the Kitten Gods and needs guidance on the appropriate response, and Tim thinks he could overlook the danger. God knows everyone is afraid of Mom, and that doesn’t stop Tim from kissing her cheek and hugging her at least once per day. 
This kid deserves love, too, and he always wanted a sibling.
72 notes · View notes
kassies-take · 5 years
Text
Kane Vs Luthor
Tumblr media Tumblr media
SuperBat^2 (Kara/Kate) all earths have merged so Batwomans Gotham and Supergirls National City exist on the same earth (Star City also exists next to NC as does Central City so Kate gets a Costume from Cisco and Kara gets a device from him so she can become more human when she needs to) Kate and Lena end up in a battle of wits while trying to take over CatCo. Humour/Serious/Romance/NSFW
A/n: I don’t know how this gonna go down but thank you for giving me the opportunity to try something new. I also don’t know what you mean by take over Catco? Did you want the two CEOs to try to buy Catco for Kara? Ooh ideas just popped into my head!
Warnings:
SuperBat^2, Supercorp, (Insert ship name for Lena and Kate)
Word Count: 1966
Kara had hope. She is the Paragon of Hope after all. After Crisis she desperately wanted to have a certain Luthor by her side again. Back when flowers filled her office, back when brunch was a weekly thing, back when she could’ve shared her secret, back when they were best friends. But the Luthor, the Luthor wanted nothing to do with the Super after her betrayal and hurt.
Kate, Paragon of Courage. Batwoman had the courage to come out as a lesbian to all of Gotham, and confront her past. All with a bit of help from the Girl of Steel, now it was her turn to repay the favor.
A knock interrupted Kara’s staring contest with the refrigerator. She lowered her glasses and looked towards the door. A benefit to having x-ray vision, no peep hole needed.
“Kate?” Kara walked towards the door. “What are you doing here?” She moved out of the way to let the brunette in.
“We spent the beginning of crisis looking for the Paragon of Courage together, and the later half stuck in the Vanishing Point together. You have the same face of lost hope, when you video called for Batwoman’s coming out, like the one then. Thought I come by and check on you.”
“W-What about Gotham?”
“The Crows have Alice, Gotham can last a few days without the bat. It lasted three years before. And if the city really needs Batwoman, the World’s Finest would be there.” Kate opened Kara’s fridge for a beer and walked towards the blonde on the couch. “So.”
“What?” Kara grabbed the remaining potstickers from her coffee table and began to stuff her mouth trying to avoid the elephant in the room.
“What has made the Girl of Steel lose a bit of hope?” Kate asked while pointing the bottle top at Kara before she grabbed the bottleneck to open the beer with her bat-a-rang.
“Lex is running the D.E.O now and the whole world thinks he’s this... hero.”
“Lex Luthor a major dick huh,” Kate sat down next to Kara.
“You have no idea. I want to know what he’s up to.”
“Well we know Lex Luthor is a psychopathic lunatic, who wants to take over the world,” Kate took a sip.
“I know that, but...”
“What is his plan?”
The two sat quietly in Kara’s loft trying to think of ideas of Lex’s plan. That was until Kate spotted a picture in Kara’s open journal.
“Who is this?” Kate teased as she held up the photo of Kara and Lena.
“Lena, she was my best friend.”
“Was?”
“She’s Lex’s sister. But she’s not like him or the rest of the family, she’s good. Before Crisis I betrayed her, kept the biggest secret from her. Lex told her. She had a mission to make sure no one could hurt each other again, because I had hurt her when everyone in her life had already done so. She told me, all those times I checked in on her at her office, during brunch, game night and each one of those times she told me about her Achilles heel. And now, now she’s got her wish that I experience the same thing she has. She wouldn’t even look at me now, and she’s working with Lex.”
“Were you two close?”
“When I was around her I didn’t have to feel like I had to be Supergirl. I was normal, and I didn’t have to worry about the weight of the world on my shoulders.”
“Like she’s the only one who truly knows you, and not your alter ego. Yeah I know how you feel.”
“Luke?”
“Ex-girlfriend actually. Sophie Moore which gives me the impression that she is more than a friend to you.”
“She’s my best friend, she’s my family.”
Kate froze and stared, eyebrows furrowed at the oblivious girl in front of her.
“I appreciate you coming here, Kate. I don’t mean to kick you out but I have work in the morning and Andrea would not be happy if I’m late.”
“Tomorrow is a Saturday, you could help me on my suit though.”
“You brought your suit here?” 
“Well no, but Cisco said my suit ‘is too last crisis’” Kate used quotations as she said it.
“Huh maybe Cisco could help me with something.”
“You already have an upgrade on your suit, did you want another one?”
“Oh no, a gadget actually or something you know to help me feel more human. To be Kara Danvers and not Kara Zor-El or Supergirl.”
“Like forever?”
“Just when I want to be.”
The World’s Finest Duo entered Star Labs greeted with hugs and shouts. The shouts were mainly by Cisco, he was excited to show off the new bat suit.
“Ta-da!” Cisco pulled off the white sheet in the main corridor.
Barry had his arms crossed, as Caitlyn and Iris turned their heads to the side, Kara’s eyebrows creased together with her mouth slightly open, and Kate was the only one with courage to speak the truth.
“What’s the difference between this and my old suit.”
Cisco gasped in mock hurt. “Excuse me, your old suit may have Kevlar armor, damage recording, night vision lenses, and a defibrillator. But this! This baby can fly!”
The suit began to levitate as Cisco gushed at his own creation.
“And what if it runs out of battery?” Kate asked. “I wouldn’t want to fall out of the sky.”
“I’m glad you asked,” Cisco pointed to Kate before he tapped something on his tablet. “Kinetic storage! Everytime you move in the suit it charges it AND BAM nanotechnology! You can get to scenes quicker!”
“That’s so cool!” Kara smiled.
“Come on let’s try this baby out!” Cisco drummed his hands against the shoulder of the suit. “Barry has the ring, Kara has the glasses, J’onn with his shape shifting, and you, you get a necklace!”
“A necklace? Really Cisco?” Iris shrugged.
“Yeah yeah it’s all Black Pantery, not that origin-“
“I was hoping for more of a pizzazz,” Iris waved her hands in the air, displaying jazz hands.
“Okay, I see how it is. You try improving a suit that was already impressive.” Cisco sassed.
Ralph walked in moments later. “Oh hey, love the new suit Cisco, I’ve got info on our meta.”
“Thank you! At least someone has an eye for beauty.”
“Alright, Ralph and I will check it out.” A gust of wind blew around the corridor.
Cisco asked Kate for her birthstone necklace and placed some emitter on the back of it. “When you need the suit it’ll know.”
The suit slowly appeared on Kate’s body as the whole room now found it impressive.
“And for my favorite Kryptonian.” Cisco held out a bracelet.
“Is this blue Kryptonite?” Kara asked.
“So based on our existing world history, not only does blue K not affect you like Bazzaro, it can also suppress Kryptonian powers. When you whip off your glasses for your suit to materialize, the lead lined glasses would engulf the blue K letting you become Super. Superbat 2.0. Try them on, and see how it works.”
“So you want Kara to punch me while I fly away.”
“Okay when you put it like that, it makes it sound less interesting.”
Kara and Kate thanked Cisco after their test run. Things went back to normal, well as normal is it can get with the World’s Finest, for the next eight weeks. Andrea decided to focus more on Obsidian North than on Catco, therefore selling it with two potential buyers. Lena Luthor and Kate Kane. 
Ms. Kane and Ms. Luthor continuously went back and forth without giving Ms. Rojas the ability to jump in and agree or disagree with the two other billionaires in the room. 
“Okay, I’m going to go to the editorial meeting. You ladies should figure this out between the two of you before you come to me of who is buying and at what price. I don’t even care if it is less than what I bought it for, just get Catco out of my hands.”
“1 billion,” Lena crossed her arms in and leaned against her chair. 
“Is that how much you’re willing to pay for Catco?” Kate asked. 
“I don’t care about how much money I pay for it as long as I can make Kara happy.”
“So you are buying Catco for it’s Pulitzer prize winning reporter.” 
Lena was confused, as far as she knew Kara Danvers never got a Pulitzer prize, not since the multiverse was changed. So how could this insignificant real estate, tattoo covered asshole from Gotham know about what wasn’t even possible. 
“The lines on your forehead indicate that you are confused. That or you are just getting old,” Kate smirked. “And to answer your old lady confusion, Kara and I saved the multiverse, along with that no good brother of yours. Which you still work with despite the reality of his psychotic mind.” 
“Working with Lex was the only way I could keep an eye on him without causing any suspicions and to protect Superfriends from his ultimate plan.” 
“Yet your plan was to sit around while he did awful things?”
“What more could I have done? Sleep around with someone while being in love with someone else?” Lena called out Kate. 
It was Kate’s turn to be speechless. 
“Don’t think I don’t know Ms.Kane. You have all these tattoos to show you don’t care and is a player but deep down you really care for someone.”
“I could say the same for you Ms. Luthor. It is not all that surprising that you brought up sleeping with someone else and loving someone while we talk about Kara. That every time you are in a room with Kara, your eyes subtly move towards her arms or how you unconsciously bite your lip.”
“What goes on in my mind about Kara has nothing to do with this.”
“It takes one to know one, Luthor. I’m just stating the facts.” 
The room fell into silence for the first time since the younger Kane and the younger Luthor walked into the office. That was until a happy, beaming Golden Retriever walked into the room.
“Kate! You’re here!” Kara ran to give her a hug. “What are you doing here?”
“Andrea is selling Catco, wanted to see my chance of getting it. But it seems I have competition.” Kara followed Kate’s line of sight and noticed Lena. 
“Lena! You’re here!” Kara ran towards Lena before she hesitated to give her a hug.  Before the whole betrayal there would’ve been no hesitation but now, now she didn’t know what the right thing to do was. 
“I am, and when I buy it back. You will be editor in chief.” 
“No need to kiss ass, Luthor. We are both trying to buy Catco for the same reason.”
“What is that reason?” Kara smiled.
“I’m surprised you didn’t hear Kara. You’re the one with super hearing.” Lena whispered dangerously close to Kara’s ear.
“I-uh. I got a. I got a device from Cisco. He made something for me so I wouldn’t constantly need to control my strength and be human like you guys.” 
“Well feel free to use all your strength with me.” Lena bit Kara’s earlobe before she walked away. 
“I’ll tell Andrea, I’m buying then?”
“Oh sweetheart, I’m not going to make it that easy.” 
“Kate please save me.” Kara was redder than a tomato.
“I think you should follow her.” 
“You’re right. I’ll go do that.”
Andrea walked in the moment Kara left. “So it turns out Lena is buying Catco?”
“Huh what, okay,” Kate did not realize she agreed to Lena buying Catco. She was confused with how that whole thing played out. 
82 notes · View notes
Text
Harry Potter Battle Wounds Pt 1 - L. Hemmings
Original story by sarcastically-defensive17
Female reader
Being the little sister of the infamous “C-Dizzle” Calum Hood meant that it was rare you could Skype him throughout his time at Uni.
You were one year younger than him, and while you were in year 12 he went off to University with his friends, choosing to move closer to campus.
It’s safe to say, you missed him like crazy. You and Cal had been thick as thieves for so many years, and are probably the single reason your mother’s hair started to turn grey. Or, at least, that’s what Joy would tell you both.
You and Cal had organized to skype on a Sunday afternoon, giving him enough time during the week to organize work for his classes, and Sunday morning to recover from a hang over he generally had.
From his Facebook tags alone, you had seem far too much of your older brother in stupid situations due to mass amounts of alcohol. He really was enjoying the University life and you were happy for him, you just wished he would dedicate some of his time to coming home to see his family. Hence why you took it upon himself to schedule specific blocks of time where he would Skype you. You even went as far to ensure Ashton, the only one of Calum’s friends you have met, knew of the time and made sure Calum dedicated that time to his family.
It worked perfectly and you never thought you’d admit it, but the Skype calls were even more fun when Cal’s friends got involved.
You heard he lived with three of his friends, one of those being Ashton and another his friend Michael who you met on a Skype call one night, but you had never seen the infamous Luke who was either asleep, at class or out who knows where.
The boys all have different accounts on where Luke was when you asked one time why you hadn’t seen the man.
Michael calmly replied “he’s at the titty bar. He strips for cash.”
He received a smack upside the head from Ashton for the comment, and you remember the sight of Michaels (then) bright green hair flying up and a yelp leaving the boys’ lips making you laugh until your stomach hurt.
“That is child abuse, Ashton!” He screeched as he ran off camera, “and no fair! Your hands are bigger than my dick!”
Ashton simply rolled his eyes, “It wouldn’t be child abuse if you didn’t act like a child!” He shouted before looking at Calum, “he’s at work, isn’t he?”
You saw your brother change his attention from the PlayStation game he was fixated on through the screen, and he simply shrugged.
“He may be at one of those parties he never invites us to, who knows.”
And so, for a whole year, you had never seen or spoken to Luke. You didn’t even know what he looked like, apart from the knowledge that he was “the lankiest penguin in the world” according to Mikey.
You had originally planned to go to a uni closer to home, in order to stay a bit closer to family and to your girlfriend. You had your heart set on the music production course that Calum’s Uni was running, but ultimately your girlfriend convinced you to also apply to a closer University.
You simply didn’t tell anybody you applied for Calum’s one, and just applied to see if you would have gotten in.
That changed when you went over to your girlfriends house and found her in bed with your best friend, Andrew.
You thought it best to follow your own path, not the one she wanted you to forge so she could continue taking advantage of your gifts and attention while also getting her rocks off with your best friend behind your back.
On the advice of your sister, you withdrew your application to the closer University and worked your butt off to get results that were good enough for the University course you wanted.
And just as Mali promised, it paid off and you were moving your stuff into Calum’s apartment not long after graduation, as Michael was moving in with his girlfriend, Crystal, who proved to be the nicest person you had ever met.
You lived there for a whole week without running into Luke at all.
You were beginning to think he didn’t exist at all. Plates of pancakes left on the bench, or sticky notes left around the house to remind one of you to “pick up more toilet paper” was evidence enough of another person in the house.
The idea that you also retreated to your room every night at around 8 also guaranteed you were dead to the outside world until you woke the next morning.
Until one night, when Ash, Cal and yourself were binge watching the Harry Potter series, given the fact that Ashton had never seen any.
“You have got to be kidding me?!” You screeched from your bedroom after overhearing their conversation through your open door.
“What happened? Drop your contact in your bra again?” Calum asked, a smirk on his face as he focused on the game playing on the television.
You stomped to the lounge room to flick him in the ear, before directing your attention to the eldest boy, “You have never watched Harry Potter?”
“Um, no? Should I have?”
“Yes, of course you should have, Ashton! You have big Hufflepuff energy and I bet you don’t even know what that means!” Your voice was an octave higher in disbelief and your frown deepened when the boy simply cocked his head at your words.
“Uhh-“
“That is it!” Your hands were raised in the air, “We are watching the first movie tonight and I will not take no for an answer!”
The first movie turned into the second, at which Calum bid a “Goodnight nerds,” as he stalked to his bedroom.
Ashton went to bed after the second one finished, leaving you alone in the lounge room, eyes glued to the screen as the second film turned to the third and Professor Lupin tried to teach Harry to produce a Patronus.
You were so engrossed that you didn’t even hear the door open. You could have been stabbed by an intruder and you wouldn’t have even noticed because you were too enamored by the movie you had seen over 20 times.
“Slytherin is the superior house, and anybody who disagrees is boring,” a deep voice says from behind you and you jump from your seat, pegging a bowl of popcorn at the face of whoever was in the apartment.
A thud echoed around the room followed closely by a groan and you rushed to flick the lights on, which revealed a tall blond man clutching his nose with popcorn on his hair and all around him.
“Luke?” You heard Cal ask wearily, walking out of his room rubbing his eyes.
“Luke?” You repeat, shock clearly ok your features.
“Yeah, hey Y/N! I live here too!” His brows were pulled together in pain, as anybody who takes a bowl to the face would be, but he also had an amused smile on his lips.
“I am so sorry! But you snuck up on me! You could have been a robber or murderer or who knows!” Was your only reply as you took in his features.
He was tall, a lot taller than you. His shoulders were wide and it was hard to tell if he was muscular through his oversized Nirvana shirt, but he had skinny jeans clad on his long legs, and converse on his feet.
There was a small scar on his bottom lip from where a lip ring used to be, on the same side you also had a lip ring.
His hair, that looked to be somewhat long was pulled back into a bun at the bottom of his head.
He was very attractive. Anybody could see that.
Your face immediately reddened at the internal revelation and you wanted nothing more than to clean the popcorn and run to your bedroom to hide.
Which is exactly what you did. You rushed around, dusting popcorn off of the tall boy and cleaning it from the floor before running to your bedroom and burrowing yourself under the covers in embarrassment.
The next morning, the house was practically empty. Ashton and Calum had a class, and as it was your day off, you slept in for a little bit. You thought you were alone so you moved to the kitchen to make breakfast, only to come face to back with a large figure standing at the stove.
“Morning,” he said, his voice gravely from sleep.
“Oh, hi!” You squawked, jumping slightly at the presence of Luke.
He simply turned and handed you a plate of pancakes and returned to his work at the stove.
“So, smallest Hood, I figured since you pelted me with a bowl last night and we haven’t gotten to know each other since you got here, that you could treat me to a coffee later today?”
He turned and you could see a subtle smirk on his face. Your face blushed at the question and you gaped, still in place and holding your pancakes.
“That is,” he continued, “unless you’re a Gryffindor. I could never date one of those.”
“Date?” You managed, confusion still evident on your face.
“Yeah. I’ve seen you a couple times on a Skype call with Calum and the guys but I was nervous to join them Incase I made Calum’s beautiful sister think I’m the dorkiest person ever, but then after she pelted me with popcorn I figured ‘what worse can happen’?”
You simply laughed at the idea of the attractive man in front of you being dorky.
You moved to the counter, taking a seat and cutting into your plate of food, “how could you be dorky? And I never saw you on the Skype calls!”
“I think anybody who spends literally any free time they have at a library would be regarded as a dork,” he laughed, and your cheeks reddened at the sound, “and I saw you a few times when I had gotten home, but never gotten in view of the camera.”
Your mind wanders back to Michael asking somebody named Lucifer how the outside world was, but Calum had told you it was their Golden Retriever.
I guess that kind of fits with the golden curls hanging from Luke’s head.
Instead of proving further, you figured there was only one thing you wanted at the very moment.
“So what time for coffee?”
A smile broadened on Luke’s face and you mirrored it.
39 notes · View notes
neekaasaddie · 4 years
Text
Silver Chevy Silverado Part 2
      Everything is more quiet in the mornings. The air is fresher and cooler because it’s had all night to cleanse itself and there’s a distinct stillness that sweeps the environment an hour before the sun rises that’s never present in the night. It’s like a reset button is pressed and the humans in my neighborhood are quietly booting up for their day while in their beds. What if we’re all robots and when we sleep, we’re just rebooting?
     I hear a car door open in the distance.
     It’s easier to think in the mornings, too. You don’t have all the thoughts and events from the day nagging at you incessantly and weighing you down. Sometimes, when I wake up from a bad dream or one where my crush actually likes me back, I wake up in a pensive mood–– but other than that, I feel like a clean slate every time I open my eyes.
     “You’re an early riser,” observes a familiar voice. I jolt to attention and see someone sitting in a silver Chevy Silverado with the door swung wide open and a pair of legs dangling out. It sinks in that I had scaled up the hill, which my house sits on top of, in a thoughtful daze. My mind was wandering in an endless spiral––but my body is here.
     Oh my God, it’s him. I snap back to reality. “I could say the same for you,” I reply casually, folding my arms in front of my chest in a futile attempt to feel less vulnerable.
     “Yes, but I have to go to work, what’s your excuse?”
     “I don’t need an excuse to be up early,” I insist. “And if you have to go to work, why are you just sitting in your truck?”
     “I like to drink my coffee, smoke and catch up on the news before I go. It’s kinda my routine,” he explains as he grabs his coffee mug from the dash.
     “Hm, and I like to walk around my block in the mornings. That’s kinda my routine.”
     “Oh, sassy,” he smirks, taking a sip of coffee out of the large, plain-white mug. Our eyes remain locked as he does so, just like when I took the cigarette with my lips last time we spoke. His golden-brown tanned skin creates the illusion of his iris’ being translucent as his almond shaped, pale-green eyes gaze into mine. He has faint light-brown freckles speckling his face. How have I never noticed them before?
     Then it occurs to me. “Wait, did you just adopt this routine now? Because I’ve been walking every day for the past six months at the same time and I’ve never seen you.”
     “I usually come out after you’ve finished your walk,” he pauses, takes a sip of coffee again, and smiles as he says, “How are you up so early?”
     I roll my eyes. “I just get up early, okay?”
     “Aren’t you like eighteen?” he asks in a condescending chuckle.
     “Nineteen,” I snap, taking a step closer to him and the silver Chevy Silverado. “I’m nineteen.” 
     The previously sweet scent of musky vanilla finds me again but this time, it’s nauseating. Something about the tone of his voice rubs me the wrong way. 
     “Oh my God,” he exclaims in a dramatic near-shout. “Tell me what nineteen year old voluntarily wakes up at five-thirty in the morning.” His head flings back with the mug glued to his lips as he retrieves the final drop of coffee from the bottom of the mug.
     I feel embarrassment crawl up my throat. “Me!” I exclaim defiantly. “I do,” I say as I point my index finger at my chest, jutting my head towards him. A familiar scent immediately harrasses my nose, but it’s not vanilla, weed, or tobacco. I sniff audibly.
     “Is that alcohol?” I ask incredulously.
     “Irish coffee,” he replies casually, raising the mug in the air in faux cheers.
     “Ah,” is all I can say as I stand there dumbfounded. It smells pretty strong to me–– how can he drink that stuff so early in the morning? “I still don’t understand how waking up early is so odd.”
     He sets the mug down on the dashboard. “Waking up early isn’t odd, you just generally don’t see it amongst the people in your age group.” 
     “Oh, right. Sorry Professor Pedo, I forgot you got your PhD in teenaged girls. How old are you again? Fifty-four?”
     “Twenty-seven but that’s irrelevant.”
     “Oh is it?”
     “Yes it is. Now tell me, for research purposes of course, what causes you to wake up at such an early hour?” he asks, stroking an imaginary beard. 
     I flash a dumb smile and humor his question. “Like I said, I like to walk before the sun rises.”
     “Profound!” he says, making a pack of Camels appear in his palm in one swift motion. He hops out the driver’s seat, leans against his truck, and places a cigarette on his lip. “And what time do you sleep to wake up at this hour?”
     I feel my cheeks get warm. I look down at my pristine white sneakers and whisper, “Nine o’clock.”
     “Wow, you’re truly an abnormality in the teen world,” he says flatly as he lights the cigarette hanging limply from his mouth.
     I feel my cheeks get red hot with anger now rather than embarrassment. Would it kill him to be nice to me for one second? 
     I decide to shift the conversation away from my atypicality. “If you’re gonna shit on me, you might as well give me a cigarette.”
     He folds his arms across his chest this time, his meadowy-green eyes squint accusingly. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
     My cheeks get even hotter–– if that’s even possible. “Well…I don’t,” I reply candidly.
     “Then why did you ask to bum one last time we talked?”
     “Because you do it and it seems like a sociable thing to do,” I blurt before I can think. I clasp my hands behind my back to keep him from seeing them shake. “Considering my current state as an abnormality of human nature, I have to find every way I can to fit in.”
     He ignores my reference to his previous rude remark. “Well you shouldn’t. I’m trying to quit,” he says dryly as he takes a drag.
     “Quitting is for losers,” I say softly, kicking an insignificant pebble off of the dry light-gray asphalt road.
     “Is that so, Old Wise One?”
     “Don’t you have to go to work?”
     “Not for another five minutes.”
     “God! Why are you even talking to me?” I spit with uncontrolled frustration. The razor bite of my own voice surprises me. “What?”
     “I was just walking around my block totally spaced out and you could have let me walk right past you without me noticing or just sat in your truck whenever you normally do, but you chose to come out early and stop me and make me feel like shit––and I doubt it was to honestly critique my sleep schedule or point out my abnormalities.”
     Our eyes meet and, while I imagine mine as raging and livid, his are cool and collected. My stomach sinks to the floor. This entire interaction has been incredibly off-putting. The way he spoke about my age and my so-called “abnormalities” was belittling. And while he did push my buttons about the best-friend-thing last time we spoke, he did so in an endearing, witty way. He’s just being a straight-up dick right now.
     “Like I said, I like to get a rise out of you,” he finally responds with a twisted chuckle and takes a drag.
     “Well I don’t appreciate being risen by my friend at six in the morning.”
     “Who said we’re friends?”
     Ouch. “Well obviously we’re not because you think I’m abnormal and make it a point to say it to my face.”
     “Would you rather me say it behind your back?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in question and, in turn, creasing his forehead. 
     “I think it’s been five minutes,” I reply flatly.
     He glances at his phone, “It’s been exactly five minutes. At least your internal clock doesn’t seem to be abnormal.” He flashes a fake smile then hops into the driver’s seat, slams the door, and turns the ignition. I stand dumbfounded yet again–– in awe of his abrasiveness––until he rolls down his window and says, “See you around Old Abnormal One.” 
     “Drive safe Old Alcoholic One!” I shout as his car skids onto the road. 
     I stand in the same place he left me for quite some time–– watching his silver Chevy Silverado turn the corner, hearing him speed off to a distant land, and then standing solemnly in the still morning air, staring at the pebble I had kicked earlier. 
I feel stuck. 
I’m stuck in the same place I’ve always been and can’t move. 
I can’t move.
An overwhelming wave of loneliness washes over me. 
I have to move.
     I trudge to my porch, feeling as if the balloon that grew inside of me every time I spoke to him just popped. The lead returns to the soles of my shoes and that heavy hollowness grows inside my chest once more.
8 notes · View notes