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maybe-your-left · 3 years

Note

BITCH I AM DEMANDING A FLUFFY PART TWO TO KYLO FORGETTING OUR DATE OKAY?!

I WANT SWEET AND NASTY MAKEUP SEX

HAHAHHA YESSSSS. here is part one of Kylo forgetting our anniversary.

“Hey.”

You sighed into the phone, slumped on the cool leather couch. The TV blaring before you, but you didn’t listen to what was on. It had been two weeks since you kicked Kylo out, the only communication shared were clipped texts and stale ‘Hi’s’ and ‘Byes’ when he needed to pick up clean clothes.

“Hi.”

Kylo took in a slow breath, you could practically feel the air hit your face. So close, yet so far, “Are you gonna be home today?”

“Yup.”

“Cool, I’ll be there at 12 during lunch. I have some shit to grab.”

You bit back sniffling, “Okay,” your voice cracked. “I’ll be here.”

———

You scrolled through your emails, waiting at the kitchen counter for him to show up. You'd applied for some jobs a few days ago if this was really the end of you two. You needed a job, there was no way you could afford living in the penthouse and at some point, Kylo would want it back.

It was in his name anyway, the only thing you really owned without his help was your laptop.

Fingers crossed you'd find something, you haven't worked in almost five years. You didn't need to with Kylo, and he urged you to not work. He wanted to take care of you, provide for you, help you in any way he could. But now, you were left high and dry, not even a single bank account in your name.

You swallowed back another round of tears, no.

No more tears, you'd get through this. You had family who would help, friends that supported you and wanted you to be happy. Even his mom, not that you'd stoop that low, was willing to help you.

It would be better to just cut all ties to him since there was a slim chance he would want to be back together.

You still weren't sure, you missed him. Terribly, barely sleeping because his presence was gone. Jumping towards your phone whenever it rang, hoping it was him on the other side calling to make it up to you.

But the man was stubborn, angry that you kicked him out.

Claiming that his accusations were valid, which wounded you further.

A light knock on the door drew you away from your wallowing, you took a shaky breath before whispering a faint, "it's open."

Kylo walked in slowly, dressed in his work clothes. A button-up, white, with his suit jacket and tight dress pants. His hair was getting longer, the harsh lighting of the kitchen showed a sheen of grease coating it.

And the bags, the bags under his eyes were darker than normal.

A part of you was smug over his appearance.

But the rest of you ached, fighting against your baser instinct to run towards him. So he could take you in his arms while you bathed him in kisses, mourning over the time spent apart.

"Hello," he nodded stiffly towards you. Not making eye contact as he shut the door. Kylo fiddled with the strap on his shoulder, his duffel bag hanging limp. Empty, ready to stuff more things inside before he ran away to whatever place he was staying.

"Hey," you croaked, eyes flitting back to your laptop. Biting your lip as you read through rejection after rejection, no one wanted you. The gaps in your resume were too long, your diploma meant nothing since you had zero experience.

Kylo's shoes scuffed the floor, sniffing loudly before he looked at you.

"I was going to grab some more things," he glanced towards the staircase, "All my stuff is at the dry cleaners right now, I've worn these pants two days in a row."

"That sucks."

He hummed, "Okay," backing away from you slowly. You watched him walk towards the stairs, back tense and straight. His hands were tucked into his pockets, something he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

You used to make him comfortable.

Now you just agitated him, even though it wasn't your fault you two were in this mess.

You stayed quiet as he rummaged around upstairs. Doors opening and closing, drawers slamming shut, you briefly heard swearing but you couldn't make it out. You hadn't thrown his stuff away, keeping everything organized. Right down to the hair products that he had left.

Color-coded and alphabetical by the sink.

His footsteps echoed to a stop, maybe he was considering kicking you out...

"Have you seen my black sweater?"

You stilled, his black sweater... "Nope."

A huff in annoyance, "The one that has the hole in the front, from when it got caught while we were in Niagra? It's not in the closet."

That's because I hid it, you thought. You'd been sleeping in it for the past week, it smelled like him and enveloped you like his arms used to. No way you were giving it back, call it a sacrifice of your relationship.

You listened to his slow descent to the kitchen, duffle now stuffed with clothes. He eyed you suspiciously, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek. Coming dangerously close to your seat, he angled himself behind you. A little to the left, but enough for him to spy on your computer screen.

"You're applying for jobs?"

You slapped your laptop shut, he didn't need to snoop.

"None of your business, Kylo."

He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling as he replied, "Might be good for you, to get out of the house."

"Mhm."

"You'll want to apply to multiple places," he stepped around you, opening the fridge for a brief glance inside. Spying one of his protein shakes that you hadn't thrown out, wasn't expired yet. Kylo cracked it open and took a small sip, "You won't be able to afford this place with entry-level salaries."

"Yes," you snapped at him, "I know that."

"Just trying to help, (Y/N)."

You climbed off your stool, moving away from him to curl on the couch. Already on the verge of tears, "You aren't helping, you're just being rude."

"Well, it's rude of you to steal my shit when we aren't together anymore."

That made the waterworks start, muffling your sniffles with your fluffy blanket. You tucked yourself away, desperate to disappear. Maybe when you woke up, everything would be back to normal, or you could wake up seven years earlier to avoid ever meeting him. Save yourself from the heartache that was tearing you apart from seam to seam.

You listened to the echo as he walked towards you. Huffing when he saw your shivering form, "I don't know why you're crying. I haven't been staying here for two weeks, we clearly aren't together."

"Whatever, Kylo," you whispered, voice breaking as you took in a wet breath, "Can you just leave?"

"Sure."

------

"I can't afford to stay there mom," you whimpered into the phone, you were stalling in your car. Parked in the garage of the apartment, you had been to an interview. Realizing the pitiful reality of your life, you had already begun to sell your designer clothes. Gucci purses, red bottoms, Tiffany earrings, Cartier bracelets, you name it. Anything that could help you create a bank account was sold off.

"Have you talked to him at all? Kylo wouldn't leave you high and dry, if anything he would pay for you to get an apartment."

"I don't want his help," you hissed.

A pause, "It would be humiliating to ask, I know he's expecting it. After the talk about jobs, he's just been waiting for me to cave and sacrifice my dignity."

"I'm just saying it wouldn't hurt to talk with him, I know you both have been avoiding it after the fight. It could bring you both some closure-or better yet-get you guys back together so I can get some grandbabies."

"Goodbye, mom."

You huffed as you hung up, slamming your head back into your headrest. Maybe you could sell the car, people would pay top dollar for a gold Porsche. But the title was in Kylo's name, birthday present, any money you'd earn would belong to him.

You pulled up your text thread, the last messages sent were from three days ago. He left you on read, you texted him goodnight after a few stale messages about your day and when he could come and move some furniture out. Kylo had gotten an apartment on the upper east side, right by his office. You checked the old Zillow listing, it was huge and ridiculously expensive.

Enough room for him and a new girlfriend, you were certain he was already fucking someone else. With how cruel he was with you, not even trying to make amends. Probably his secretary, she was always a slut. Showing off her tits to him, even when you came to visit. Kylo probably bent her over his desk the day after he left, just because he could.

You swallowed your pride, it was now or never.

Kylo, I think we need to talk.

Send.

Let's see how long it... oh?

What happened, I'm at work right now.

Quick, maybe he got the notification on his laptop.

Could I swing by the office?

Right now?

Yeah.

Typing...

I have a shareholder meeting at 2, make it quick.

You sped towards his work, determined to get there before he changed his mind and banned you from coming. You were shocked he even agreed, maybe he was having a rare good day.

Or forgot that you two were broken up.

After parking, you jogged into the building. No need to say hi to anyone, it was embarrassing enough to be the ex-girlfriend visiting. At least you were dressed up, people wouldn't think you were in the poor house, yet.

You smiled coldly at his secretary, not bothering to tell her what you were here for. Despite her stuttering about him having a meeting at 2, she was totally fucking him. There's no way she wasn't, a man like him can barely go a day without sticking his dick in something.

Whipping open the door, you were met with the uncomfortable silence that blanketed his office. Curtains were drawn, lights on the dimmest setting, the only noises were the door creaking and his fingers typing.

Like he was punishing the words, Kylo was good at breaking keyboards with his aggressive emailing.

You cleared your throat, watching as his eyes briefly flickered towards you before moving back to the screen. Okay, you walked slowly towards his desk. Pulling out a chair as quietly as possible, the leather squeaking when you sat.

Kylo let out a long sigh, leaning away from his screen. "What is it you want to talk about?"

With a harsh swallow, you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. Anything to avoid his penetrating gaze, "I just wanted to talk about, you know."

He blinked, face blank, "Use your words, please. I don't have time to fuck around, I have a business to run."

"I-I-I"

"Spit.it.Out."

"How come you never apologized?"

Silence.

Kylo's jaw clenched and unclenched, leaning back in his chair slowly. Staring directly at you, "This conversation?"

"Yes, I need to know."

"What good is it doing us now?"

"I don't know I just-"

"What are you hoping to gain from this?"

"Kylo-"

He huffed loudly, "I don't have to answer you anymore, we aren't together."

You slammed a fist on his desk, rattling a few pieces he had decorating it. Standing on your wobbling legs, "Listen to me, you can be an asshole all you fucking want but I deserve answers."

Kylo narrowed his eyes, standing slowly before you. His form towering, making you feel even smaller than you already felt. Crawling to his office for closure, and instead, he wanted to argue with you about the necessity of the conversation.

You watched his palms lay flat on the polished wood, crinkling papers he had strewn about.

"If you're here for money, just fucking say it."

"I am not here for-"

Now it was his turn to slam the desk, "Bullshit! You're here to fucking grovel because you don't know how to take care of yourself. Can't even get a second-rate job!"

"You're the one who insisted on taking care of me!"

"So you think it's okay to demand money when we aren't together? Selling off all the shit I bought you to pay the power bills?"

You gaped at him, "I would never."

"Shut up," Kylo spat, leaning further across to be nose to nose, "You forget that I have your email linked to my laptop. I can see every pathetic message about pawning what I worked for. What I provided you, fucking ungrateful."

"How dare you sneak through my email!?"

"It's not sneaking if I have the passwords, darling."

"You can't fucking do that," you pushed away, arms folded while you glanced around the room. All your pictures were gone, more proof that showed he was erasing your existence, "At least I'm not already fucking someone..."

"Excuse me?"

You spoke over your shoulder, "You heard me."

"Are you seriously accusing me of that," Kylo scoffed, "When that's what got us into this mess in the first place?"

You shrugged, "How long have you been fucking her, did you march to her place after I kicked you out?"

"(Y/N)."

"I'm a big girl, I can take it. Just tell me the truth, because there's no way you'd just abandon me if there wasn't someone else."

"(Y/N)."

You spun on your heel, snarling with a finger in his face, "How many women have you replaced me with? Huh? Or is it just your slut of a secretary-"

Kylo flipped his desk, everything crashing to the floor. You screamed as he began to throw items to the walls, tear books off the shelves, kicking his chairs to the ground. Anything he could get his hands on he attempted to tear apart.

"Enough!"

Heavy breaths.

"I'm not fucking anyone else! Are you fucking serious? All I've fucking done is work! Trying to just fucking move on but nooo," he faced you now, cheeks red and puffing. A few tracks of tears streaking towards his jaw, "You-you just have to be right, and have to be the victim of all this when it's both our fucking fault!"

Kylo paced away from you, running his fingers through his hair before crouching down to the floor. Cradling his face in his hands while he took in shaky breaths, "I fucking missed you, so much. It's all I thought about, but every fucking time I came back you ignored me."

"Kylo-"

"No, you fucking iced me out. I could barely speak to you and I wasn't going to do anything over text."

You succumbed to your tears, there was no way to hold them. Choking as you wiped away the floods, "I-I didn't m-mean to, you weren't talking to me Kylo. How was I supposed to r-react?"

Now he was crying, hiccuping in an attempt to steady his breathing and push through it like he always had. But he couldn't stop the tremor in his voice, "You could've told me you loved me or forgave me. Anything would've been better than this."

"Why do I have to be the one to apologize, I'm not the one who forgot our day and manhandled me in the tub! You were drunk, rude, and horrible to me, I deserved an apology."

"I know," he sniffed, "I tried to-the first few times I came back for clothes. But you hid from me."

You nodded slowly, pacing your way towards him. Unsure of how he'd react to you touching him, but you needed to be closer. You shuffled to his side, sliding your back against the gray wall to the floor.

"We've never been good at apologizing."

Kylo sat on the floor, mirroring you against the wall, "At least before, you didn't kick me out. Force me to crash on a couch, you know I don't fit on couches."

You chuckled softly, not wanting to smile at the visual.

"That's why our couch was custom," he laughed too, dull and humorless, "Because I kept sliding off."

"Yup."

Both of you swallowed, throats clicking in unison. Kylo shuffled in a more comfortable position, looking out at the clouded sky that peeked through the shades.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry."

A breath, "I never meant to miss our day, and I thought you were finished with me. I should've just spoken to you instead of drink, but that doesn't mean much now."

You hummed, "Thank you."

"I can write you a check," he sighed, "So you can get another place and still keep whatever's left of your collections."

"You don't-"

"I know I don't."

Kylo wrote you a check for half a million dollars, not looking at you when he ripped it from his checkbook. He mumbled about the bank may be needing to call him to confirm it, just have them call my office number.

Sending you off without another word.

------

Your new apartment was cute, small, perfect for you.

Light and airy, none of the fixtures were black or red. Hues of pink, coral, green, and blue danced around the rooms. Your couch was velvet, just because you wanted it to be. With an abundance of pillows and candles on every surface, you could fit them onto.

Your bed was a four-poster with a dreamy white canopy, soft and cloudlike bedding scrunched up from however you left them. No one was running around frantic to make the bed, or straighten the blinds, or draw the curtains, it was just yours.

The check was cashed with little fuss, you tried not to cry about it. You dropped off the old house keys at Kylos office, along with your car keys, there was no need to keep the Porsche. You weren't living that life anymore, you could buy your own car now! And it would be yours, it was too hard to drive the gift everywhere.

Kylo told you to keep the car when he found the keys, but you ignored his messages. He wouldn’t understand why you wouldn’t keep it, but that was his problem.

You sighed into your couch, looking at the TV nestled next to the bay window. Imagining where you could squish more houseplants… you already had an abundance but it wouldn’t hurt.

Your phone began to vibrate on the coffee table, startling you as you scrambled towards it. Oh, it was Kylo, odd.

“Hey?”

“Hey.”

“Uh,” you stood from the floor, scratching your cheek as you walked. “What’s up?”

He cleared his throat, “I saw you got a place, wanted to drop off a housewarming gift.”

Your face scrunched, balancing the phone between your face and shoulder. Popping a potato chip in your mouth, “Why would you do that?”

A sigh, “Can you just buzz me in? I brought wine…”

“Whatever.”

Kylo came in with a tight smile, dressed in some black joggers and a gray t-shirt. He looked like he just rolled out of bed, not his typical look on a weekday. He held up a brown paper bag, Whole Foods on the label.

"You went to Whole Foods?" you raised a concerned brow.

"Nope," he set the bag on your kitchen table, eying the plants and crystals that littered your living room. A few magazines were strewn around on the surface, "I had my secretary do it."

You glared at him, which he noticed before shaking his head rapidly, "New secretary-not the old one. His name is Brady, he's very nice."

Kylo stood with his hands in his pockets, glancing in every direction as you approached the bag. Humming when you began pulling out the goodies he had, as promised there was a bottle of wine. Your favorite, along with a set of glasses.

A clear purple tinge, almost vintage looking. Some of your favorite fruit, he blushed when you held them up to his eyes. Mumbling how you never had enough of them in the past, and it was their season.

Now you were blushing, finding some red velvet cupcakes. Packaged beautifully, and a small vase in the shape of a kitty. You placed it on the table, looking at it over and over. Biting your lip as you waited for something to happen.

"I like your place," Kylo croaked out, "It's very bright."

You chuckled, "You're just used to your eyes straining from all the red and black decor."

He hummed, walking down your hallway. Glancing indoors that were left open until he made it to your bedroom. You heard him groan when he saw the white sheets and canopy, Kylo whistled for you.

Obediently, you pranced towards him, taken aback when he was sprawled on your mattress. Facedown with his face in your pillow, groaning like he was trying to wake up from a good dream.

"I fucking forgot how good you smelled," he moaned out, looking over at you lazily, "What would I have to do to get you to make out with me in here?"

------

LOL, this was long, but I'll do a part three if you would enjoy the rest of their reunion.

TAGGING: @finn-ray-nal-beads @onlykyloscenes @candycanes19 @historyandfandoms50 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @ghoulian13 @mrs-kylo-ren @millenialcatlady @relationshipwithmybed @dancingmicrobes @wayward-rose @contesa-lui-alucard @daydreamsofren @insufferablelust @ohdamnadamm @mariesackler @caillea @safarigirlsp @jalexunderthestars @shesakillerkween @glassythoughts @zimmermansbrat @not-the-teen-witch @jynzandtonic @roanniom @celestiasin @glassbxttles @cornmousequeen @driversmutbucket @blowthatpieceofjunk

Here is the link to my Mega Masterlist for all your stalking needs...

#adam driver #adamdriver #kylo ren #boyfriend kylo ren #modern kylo ren #part two of our angsty part one #my writing #maybe-your-left

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janekfan · 3 years

Text

Hostile

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30583040

Jon always needed a strong hand.

Ever since he was small and wandering off without his grandmother’s permission only to be escorted back by disgruntled police.

Elias just wanted him to be the best Archivist he could be.

It didn’t stop the sting. Just reinforced how much he had to learn and how awful he was at this job. He was just being...sensitive, right? The others were fine. They didn’t seem to have any issues, certainly not like him. Meanwhile, it seemed no matter what Jon did, Elias browbeat him. Always gently, always politely, until Jon understood how he’d gone wrong and left in a state of distressing confusion. His employer made it so clear that Jon often felt foolish coming away from his office. If he’d just been smarter he would have figured it out on his own without needing his supervisor to explain it to him in terms he could understand.

He passed Tim and Elias chatting amiably in the hall, burying his nose in the stack of papers he was carrying to make himself as small as possible before shuffling past them. They didn’t seem to notice or if they did, made no move to acknowledge him and the last thing he heard when he rounded the corner was Elias chuckling at one of Tim’s bad jokes, the same one he used to tell Jon at least once a month up in Research. It was inane. Nothing to well, to write home about. Certainly nothing that should have piqued Elias’ interest.

Though, Jon supposed, he didn’t know anything about either of them did he?

“Martin.” Cultured, the smooth voice drifted through the office door, worming its way into Jon’s ear and straight into his already hammering heart. He was ashamed that he couldn’t stop himself from creeping to the door and listening closer. “This is fine work. How long have you been working here?”

“Oh! Uh! Um!” Jon rolled his eyes at the stammering, pushing down a spike of what was definitely not jealousy. Elias laughed, light and easy.

“No need to be so anxious. You’ve been an asset to this department. A good fit.”

“Ah! Th’thank you, Elias. Sir! I mean, I mean sir.”

The man’s amusement was so sincere. Jon must’ve been missing something when it came to himself.

“Ms. James, a word if you please.”

“Of course, sir. How can I help?” Jon pressed his back against the wall, the chill of the basement cement seeping into his button down and sending him shuddering.

“I wanted to thank you for your dedication. I realize things have been fraught, for lack of a better term, since the promotion.”

“I trust in the interview process.”

“I’m sure you do.” Jon held his breath. “And I appreciate your willingness to support this endeavor as it continues to grow. Especially where our new Archivist is concerned.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you again, Ms. James.” Heavier footsteps retreated and Sasha’s headed in his direction. Jon nearly ran from her impending approach, taking refuge again in his office with the thought that it should belong to her echoing in empty space between his ears.

“Jonathan.” He tried not to fidget under Elias’ intense scrutiny.

“Yes, Elias?”

“I received a call from the library.”

“I, I assisted with a difficult case a few months ago.”

“I can’t imagine why, but they are asking for your help again.” It was a cutting remark and Jon fought against the flooding mess of emotions. “They know you’re now our Institution’s newly minted Archivist.”

Oh.

OH. Of course! His impatience was mixing him all up and getting him up in arms before Elias finished speaking.

“Do you know what it’s regarding?”

“I can’t recall though you are making fewer mistakes over time. I do think your efforts would be better focused on your work in the archives, don’t you think? Jonathan?”

“Ah, w’well. Yes. If that is what you think I should do.” He could feel his face heating up, no doubt blazing red with an embarrassing blush.

“I didn’t ask for your thoughts only for you to leave it up to me. You need to be decisive, Jonathan.”

“Yes, th’that is. Yes. I will be.”

“And?” Lord was he ever bungling this.

“I will turn down their invitation.” Elias was no longer looking at him but at his desktop screen with a bored expression.

“Don’t worry yourself. I’ll take care of it for you.”

“Th’thank you, sir.”

“No need to have you tangled up in old efforts.”

“Yes, of course.” Jon shifted from foot to foot desperately trying to keep his hands still, to be professional until Elias glanced back at him in confusion.

“You can go, Jonathan. I certainly don’t want to keep you from your duties.”

It was rare that Jon left his office since taking, stealing, the position of Archivist and the uncomfortable silence that settled over the breakroom upon his arrival was damning.

“Need something, boss?” Tim raised an eyebrow, hiding a frown behind his cup. Jon felt whatever bravery he’d scraped up in the past several hours disappear.

“I, um. I just, Elias?”

“What about him?” Sasha folded her hands, prim and polite as ever since the announcement was made.

“Well, you. You’ve known m’me a while, years really, and. And I think, does, does he--?”

“Spit it out, man.” He flinched at Tim’s bored tone. Tired of him. He shouldn’t have come here.

“He, the way he speaks with me?” Lord, this sounds ridiculous. He was ridiculous, just a sensitive mess. He always did this, turned molehills into mountains. Read into situations and only came out the other side wrong.

“Elias isn’t like that, weird maybe.” Tim sounded so sure, flippant and nonchalant. “He’s been nothing but supportive since our transfer. You’re misinterpreting him or something. You do that.” Jon’s stomach dropped, tears welling up in his eyes as everything he thought about himself was confirmed.

“No, it. It feels like more than that. It. Conversion with him doesn’t. It doesn’t feel right.”

“What, Jon? He’s being mean? Rough having a couple of new responsibilities?” Tim scoffed. “You got the job over someone more qualified, over someone who works harder than anyone--”

“Tim--” He held up his hand.

“Sash, he needs to hear this. Someone needs to tell him the truth.”

“The, the truth?”

Yeah, Jon. The truth. She deserves so much better than this and now her choices are to settle or flat out leave and it’s your fault. All because you couldn’t resist the urge to interview behind her back!”

“That’s not what happened!” Even Jon could hear his whinging, voice high and desperate for one of them to believe him.

“Not from where we’re standing, mate.” Tim crossed his arms and sat back in his chair and when Jon looked to Sasha she merely shrugged. Martin just looked helpless, staring into his tea and avoiding eye contact all together.

“I, I. That’s not.” Repeating himself wouldn’t do anything to save him and he fought against the tears gathering on his lashes. “I’m s’sorry.”

“Anything else?”

No. There was nothing else.

Jon kept to himself, kept his head down, arriving before the rest of them and leaving long after they did. He didn’t want to see them. He’d made a right fool of himself enough for now, unsure if his fragile self esteem could withstand another blow. Really, he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen and there was no way to explain how Elias had maneuvered him so skillfully into this position. Was he trying to drive a wedge between them? Knowing Jon would invite his two closest friends to accompany him? A knock on the door made him jump, reminding him for a moment of a very different and more sinister one from his childhood.

“Jon?” Martin, no doubt with another overture of friendship he was loath to accept. It was easier to remain alone rather than face the hurt of another rejection so soon.

“What do you need?” Caught off guard by his sore throat, he coughed roughly into his elbow, accepting the tea to soothe it with a nod of thanks.

“That doesn’t sound good.” It wasn’t. Now that he wasn’t burying himself shoulders deep in work and self flagellation he was aware of aching muscles and oppressive fatigue, a throbbing at the base of his skull that made him stomach sick.

“It’s nothing. I neglected to drink any water today.” It was true, he realized and Martin didn’t look convinced but Jon didn’t want to go into how miserable he’d been feeling lately. Tired and wrung out trying to avoid them all and figure this out and not have a melt down all at the same time.

“You should take better care of yourself.” Gentle and kind and Jon bristled with it, flustered with the concern.

“I’ll take that under advisement.” He turned away, staring at the messy surface of his blotter to avoid anymore interaction. “I have work to do.” Martin shifted, an expression Jon couldn’t parse on his face when he glanced up at the silence. “So…?”

“Oh! Yes, I’ll be going then.” Another awkward beat passed between the two of them.

“Thank you, Martin.”

Despite feeling particularly woozy it had been a good day.

Elias nodded to him when they passed each other on the way to lunch.

He pointed out a particularly competent piece of research.

Praised how well he was handling the job lately.

It was a shame it was at the cost of his sanity. Jon was falling apart at his poorly sewn seams, every moment another snapped suture and he was pinning himself back together with clothes pegs in a windstorm. Even he knew this wasn’t sustainable. He was going to burn out like a match overextending himself like this. But avoiding his assistants meant he wasn’t able to ask them for help. He’d made his bed. He just wished he could lay in it.

Maybe Elias would approve of Jon taking the rest of the day. He’d stayed late all week. Caught up with work and even plowed ahead a little bit. So when Jon caught him in the hall he tentatively asked.

"Y'you see, I. I've been a bit under the weather and I thought since I'm ahead--"

“Jonathan,” the disappointment in the way he said his name struck Jon like a bolt of lightning and he couldn’t stop the way his face fell. “You’ve barely begun.” Oh lord, he’d read this wrong. So very wrong. “Do you truly think it’s appropriate to ask for time off so early in your tenure?”

"No, of course not. I just meant, I just thought--"

"I find that difficult to believe.” He didn’t bother hiding his contempt. “If there's nothing else?" Jon shook his head, not trusting himself to speak lest he burst into hysterics right here. Elias left him where he stood and Jon took a few moments to compose himself before turning back the way he came only to nearly run into Martin.

"I didn't mean to listen!" He held up his hands in supplication or surrender. "I swear I didn't, Jon."

"S'fine." There wasn't enough left of him to care and when he made to step around the other man found himself stopped by a careful touch at his bicep.

“Wait, um. Please. Does he, does he always speak to you that way?” Jon eyed Martin warily. He was the only one of his assistants he didn’t really know. Why would he care?

“Only when I’ve made a mistake.” When I deserve it. When I’ve failed to figure out what he wants from me and done something wrong.

“It didn’t seem very professional.” Shame ran red-hot through his veins--what did he know?

“I assure you, I was. I was out of line.” Jon didn’t want to be here having this conversation with Martin of all people. He wanted to retreat to the relative safety of his office where he could sit in the dark and continue underperforming at his job.

“Jon, you’re not well.” Martin sounded upset with him and somehow it hurt worse than it did with Elias. At least Elias knew him. Martin by all accounts was a stranger. “You should be at home.”

“No, no, no, you don’t understand.” Jon tore his trembling hands through already bedraggled and greasy hair. He was disgusting. Unprofessional. Sweating through his clothes and unable to focus long enough to make it through even one statement.

"What don't I understand?" Jon's expression turned hard.

"Forgive me if I don't wish to count the ways in which I've failed at my job for you."

"Jon I--"

"Leave it, Martin." And he stalked off in none to straight a line, leaving Martin to gawk at his back.

Jon collapsed against his desk, the old pine creaking under even his small weight, before clawing his way across it to the chair and barely grabbing the bin in time to be sick. With nothing to lose he laid over it, stomach convulsing painfully as he fought to win back tentative control and only putting it back when his own panting became too loud in his head. Jon allowed himself a cry, forehead pillowed on folded arms where he slumped, muffling the pathetic sounds that slipped past him with his teeth; biting his wrist where his cuff would keep the mark hidden.

Tim's unceremonious arrival surprised him and Jon yelped, reflexively running a sleeve over his face to erase the evidence even though he knew it wouldn’t make much difference.

"Martin told us."

"Tol'tol'you what?" Real fear rooted him where he sat, raising the hairs on his arms and sending a thrill up his spine. What did they know? What had he said? Did he tell them about Elias reprimanding him? Proof of his incompetence? Were they here to yell at him again?

"How Elias has been treating you."

"Jon. You do realize it's him being unprofessional."

“You can’t let him treat you that way.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“We would have helped you.”

Like a volley of canon fire each fast phrase pounded against his crumbling defenses and left him reeling with contradicting information.

“You should have said something earlier.” He tried. He just hadn’t tried hard enough and he didn’t know what made the words tumble out of his mouth now but he couldn’t stop himself from blurting:

“I tried!” And he'd known better than to try again and risk another telling off. He was shaking and sick. He didn’t want to be here anymore, wanted to go home. “But I d’did this to myself, didn’t I? That's why you l'let me hear the t't'ruth.”

“No, I was. No, Jon--” He plowed on, overwrought and interrupting Tim, words spilling out of him too fast to be taken back.

“I thought we. W’we were friends. I thought I could come to you when th’things aren’t g’good. Like before, like in research.” Jon scrubbed at his face. “But you just. You hate me. And I know it's my fault. I know I'm not, not fit for this position and I know it's ungrateful of me but I don't want to be here. I’m so tired. I don’t. I don’t feel well. And I’m not allowed to leave.”

“What do you mean?” Tim was a hell of a lot closer than he had been, kneeling on the floor and holding Jon's hands to keep him from scratching himself to ribbons.

“I’ve been telling you.” It came out as a pitiful sob, squeaking past a throat tight from holding back the sea.

“Okay, okay. Just tell us again.” Jon closed aching eyes, hot tears falling over hot cheeks, breath panting and strained in his twisted up chest all tied up and tangled with twine.

“I can’t s’skive off. Elias said.” Like a touchstone a pair of soft hands guided him back in the chair.

“He’s burning up.”

“Doesn’matter.”

“Of course it matters, Jon.” Sasha’s voice came from far away, through a tunnel, wending its way to his stopped up ears through syrup. His next thought slipped away, dissolving in the heat swallowing him up from top to toes. Breathing became harder, impossible, lungs full of caking cement smothering choking snuffing him out like a candle flame.

“Jon?”

“Jon!”

Devoured and spit out again, again again

writhing,

drifting on an outgoing tide of misery and affliction,

waves of agony break over him and suck him under and roll him along the mud bottom of a polluted river and every gasp he snatches at the surface is less and less and less

Clicking, beeping, the chirping of a million birds in a thousand trees and each one wants his attention tick tick ticking away like the blood red hand of a watch and awareness trickles in like hot black tar against the surface of his eyelids.

Fluorescent lights carve their way in between heavy lashes and Jon recognizes the broken sound of denial as his own. A noise, a voice? in the room and the blinding glow receded enough to think about figuring out where he was. He coughed, mouth a desert, and welcomed a spoonful of ice chips blissful and cool against the heat seeping through his veins, his arteries, his skin.

“Jon?” He recognized the sound, the person, the thumb tracing circles over the back of his hand. “Hey, there he is. Welcome back, bud.”

“T’Tim…waz…?” Fairy floss crowded out any thoughts and Jon spent the next seconds trying to come up with more words and failing.

“Do you remember what happened?” Martin took up space next, then Sasha, crowded around him and no, he didn’t. Was barely able to catalogue his body; the deep seated ache, a prickly itch in the corner of his elbow.

“Hos’ital?” Tim nodded, offering up another spoonful and Jon let them melt over his tongue. Lord, he was tired, prying open eyes he didn’t remember closing.

“S’okay, buddy.” He was being so kind. Like he used to be in Research and the last thing he felt before it all faded away were twin sweeps of familiar fingers wiping away tears.

All three assistants were still there the next time he woke though Jon had no idea of how much time had passed. He wasn’t as confused, actually aware of his surroundings and he scratched absentmindedly at the IV taped to his skin. The thin gown didn’t have sleeves long enough to hide the lines left behind by his nails. He didn’t remember clawing himself up like that.

“How do you feel?” Martin looked relieved, tired.

“Uh. Fine, fine.” He plucked at the stiff blanket, avoiding their eyes. “What. I’m s’sorry. I can’t seem to--what happened?”

“You’ve been sick, Jon.” Tim plunked himself down in a terrible plastic chair. “Bad stomach flu, dehydration. You’ve been here for days.” There was a hard edge to his voice and Jon suppressed a flinch.

“S’sorry.” Sasha sat down at his other side, taking up a hand, and Martin offered him a smile.

“Jon, please don’t be.” She looked tired too, drawn and pale. “Tim and I are the ones apologizing.” Jon shook his head, staring at his lap and withdrawing his hand to worry at his fingers.

“I shouldn’t have--”

“What?” Tim cut him off. “Asked for help?” Jon nodded, earnest, glad they were all on the same page.

“Yes! You’re understandably angry with me. I didn’t respect that.”

“Can you hear how ridiculous you sound?” Tim wasn’t shouting but it was a close thing. “We froze you out! Left you alone! Accused you of lying about how Elias was treating you--Jon. Being upset about a stupid promotion doesn’t warrant how we treated you. You know that, right?”

“I don’t. I don’t know?” Sasha hushed Tim before he could start up again.

“It doesn’t. And when you became ill we blamed you for that too, for not telling us after we gave you no reason to trust that we would help and it wasn’t right.” Gently, she embraced him and he couldn’t stop himself from collapsing into her and while she wasn’t always one for physical displays of affection, she pressed him closer. “We’re going to do better.”

“We’re in this together, boss, like we should have been from the beginning. From this minute on.” Tim clasped him on the shoulder. “Okay?” Jon, exhausted and confused and hopeful, looked up at Martin when he nodded too.

“Okay.”

#TMA #The magnus archives #Jon sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #elias bouchard #hostile work environment #hospital #overwork #stop being mean to jon :<#sick jon

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papergirllife · 4 years

Text

Chapter 3

Synopsis:

You don’t know what it’s like to be free, to make your own choices, and live your own life. For your whole life, your parents have been treating you like a puppet on strings, controlling your life to every single detail, as well as ignoring the fact that you have feelings. Other times, when you disobey their wishes, or speak up about your own opinions, they bash you down with words, in other words, psychological abuse, has led you down the long winded road of depression and anxiety. What happens when you meet a man who’s willing to be your guide out of this terrible downpour? Would you give a shot at happily ever after?

Warnings:

big age gap (kinda?)

issues on anxiety

issues on depression (mild)

issues on parental abuse

smut (maybe)

Tag List: @etherealtyjaem , @caratzennie , @johnnysuhnflower , @euphoricchannie , @yeollieseo , @jjhmk , @sherzess , @wonderfulkoreanpop

(lmk if you wanna be on the list)

You’ve been seeing Mr Suh, correction, Johnny, his first name, as per requested by Johnny himself.

“Mr Suh makes me feel older than I already am, you make me feel like a teenager all over again, so you have to call me Johnny. Let me relive my days when I was still a college kid.”

You didn’t mind, things aren’t as awkward between the two of you anymore, Johnny’s been spending time with you, although the two of you never established any sort of labelling towards what this relationship is. You and Johnny only hung out and had meals together, trying out different cuisines, watching movies, even going as far as skipping a day at work to go to the amusement park. He even bought you to an arcade when you told him you haven’t had the chance to venture to one since you were in grade school.

“Why haven’t you ever been to one for so long?” Johnny asked when he finished a round of pinball.

“They said it was a waste of time and that I should spend more time studying,” you said, wondering why Johnny would ask that, isn’t it the same for all the kids?

Whenever you mention your confining life to Johnny, he’d have a faraway look in his eyes, jaw locked in silent rebuke, he doesn’t say anything, he pulls you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He would be quite for almost half an hour before he goes back to regular cheerful Johnny, telling you lame jokes that you would surprisingly find funny.

You didn’t have a phone, since your parents forbid you to have one, the only means of communicating is through your email account on your laptop, and even that you must always bear in mind to delete his mails right after, and take further precaution, you didn’t allow him to initiate the sending.

Johnny wanted to buy you one, but you rejected him promptly, you didn’t want him to spend so much money on you, he already spends lots on taking you out to eat. You gave him the excuse that it was too dangerous, and the consequences of getting caught are severe.

You often questioned your relationship with Johnny, you aren’t dumb, you’ve googled him and saw gossip news portals uploading photos of him and some model going out and about in hotels, but those headlines were months ago, the latest news about him was from his interview with Times magazine.

You never had the guts to ask him, you don’t know what you mean to him. What right do you have to question his whereabouts and what he does? He’ll probably be bored of you after he’s known all of you.

You know you shouldn’t think of Johnny that way, it is mean to assume what he’s thinking, especially how well he’s treating you, but seeing those headlines gives you a sense of insecurity, you keep telling yourself that this won’t last, but the thought of not seeing him again made your hair stand. He’s making you happy, a distraction towards the negativity you face in that house you live in, but for how long?

House. You never called it a home, unless you were telling your boss you were leaving, to prevent anyone from questioning your odd way of describing it. It was never a home to you. To you, a home is a place where you feel happy, safe, and most importantly, loved. The closest you’ve ever felt to having these feelings were your grandma and Joh... No, you don’t love him, and he doesn’t love you. What were you thinking?

You pushed those thoughts away as you opened your laptop to double check the files that you’ve typed out for your parent’s next important meeting that was supposed to be taking place first thing tomorrow. But when you went through your folders, the files were nowhere to be seen. It’s then you realised that the notification that keeps urging you to update the laptop was gone, it wasn’t the first time you updated the laptop and found out some files were missing, so you would never update the laptop at such a crucial time.

You took the laptop out to your father who was watching some news on his phone in the dining area to ask him if he had updated the software without alerting you.

“Yes, I did. What about it?” he asked, annoyance on his face due to the sudden disturbance.

“The files are missing because of the update,” you informed him.

“What files?”

“The files for tomorrow’s meeting, they’re missing,” you told him as you mentally prepared yourself for what’s to come.

“What do you mean missing?! I bet it was because you saved it wrongly again! Your retarded brain never works does it?! Do you know how important those files are?! You always work on them late at night blurry eyed, of course you didn’t save them properly! You could’ve worked on them in the morning before work. but no... You want to ‘exercise’! What a waste of time!” You’re not pretty anyways, what are you doing them for huh?!” Your father shouted, his eyes blazing in rage, his fist slamming onto the glass.

While your father was shouting, your mother was checking the laptop as she complains about how clueless you are. It was like your brain couldn’t take the amount of hurtful words piercing into your mind like daggers, you let out a high pitched scream as tears threatened to fall, your hands covering your ears as your eyes were a blur.

When you could see properly again, you could make up words which sounded like ‘how dare you’ from your father, next thing you registered were the fury in his eyes as he advances on you, hand above his head, ready to hit you. You didn’t know what came over you, but the first thing you did was kicking him away. That’s when a full on fight broke out.

You were filled with rage, your mind wasn’t registering what you were doing. You went into a flight or fight stance and started thrashing and kicking as his hands were holding painfully tight on your wrists after you tried punching him.

Your mom urges the both of you not to fight, her voice barely registering in your head as she sits still on the high chair by the kitchen island, not bothered to even try to cease the fight.

When you finally pushed him away, you ran into your room and locked it. Your chest was heaving from the panic attack that just started, you tried your best to calm yourself down, reminding yourself to breathe, it was suffocating, controlling your breathing as more tears made its way out of your eyes.

When it all stopped, your body succumbed into mental exhaustion, passing out on your bed as the tears finally ceased.

You only woke up for dinner last night, and proceeded to sleep again. Yesterday’s events made you feel numb, other than the pain from the bruises on your arms.

There was a big ugly one on your left upper arm, its colour an ugly shade of green and purple. A few other less serious ones scattered around your lower arms. In other words, you look like a wreck.

You wore a jacket to run even though you were sweating from your previous cardio work outs, feeling a little better after the endorphins in your body kicked in. When you got back, you quickly showered and ate a toast. When you asked for your mother’s phone to remind your boss you were going to take the day off, she told you that weren’t needed at the meeting anymore and that she finished everything last night.

“Just call to say that you’ll be going to work,” she said, not even looking in your direction when she handed you her phone.

But when you called to inform your boss, he told you that he had another part time coming in, and that it was too short of a notice. You said thank you and hung up, but said that you’ll be at work on time today before handing it back to your mother.

You really needed to escape for the day.

You opened the laptop and sent an email to Johnny.

I’m free today. Wanna go out?

You sat on your bed staring at the ceiling as you were sure it was going to be a bit before he replied, but just as you closed your eyes, you heard a distant chime from your laptop.

I’m rushing some stuff at the office today. I’m so sorry, Y/N.

Can I stay in your office? I really wanna get out of the house.

You sounded like a spoiled kid begging for attention, but you really wanted to see him today.

Sure. But you might get bored :) .

I’m leaving the house now :) .

For a 26 year old businessman, he sure loves to use emoticons.

You got changed into jeans and a jacket, you don’t usually wear one if you were going to a secluded area with Johnny, but you had to hide all the marks from last night. You just noticed that they hurt after you accidentally knocked your wrist against something.

You took the bus to the address Johnny wrote down on your diary, it was after one of your dinners together, and he jokingly said that you could always swing by if you wanted, you didn’t know you were going to actually do that.

The bus station wasn’t too far of a walk from his office, since it was just downtown Seoul where the Korea’s financial hub was located.

As you were nearing the office buildings, you stood out like a sore thumb, given the way you were dressed and your age. The people kept giving you stink eyes and sideway glances.

Suh Capital Partners. That was it.

You walked in the rotating doors, only to be greeted by masses of people walking around with smart pads, files, talking on the phone while the assistants take notes. Johnny didn’t mention his company being this big.

You admired the facade of the lobby, it displayed the latest news on a large monitor while futuristic lights hung from the high ceiling, the walls were a perfect balance of steel and wood with a wall of plants filled the wall behind the reception area.

You realised that the people stopped what they were doing before and started looking at you curiously when one of the nicely dressed women from the reception walked up to you.

“Excuse me, miss. May I ask who are you looking for?” the woman asked, her eyes scanning you from top to toe.

You froze at your spot from how cold she sounded, like she didn’t want you around to ruin the aesthetic of the company. You reminded yourself that you weren’t going to see her anytime soon after this and that if you did make a fool of yourself then so be it.

“I’m looking for Mr Suh,” you told her.

She looked taken aback from your answer, but gave you the ugliest sneer when she recovered.

“Miss, this isn’t a school, you can’t just walk in here and demand to see someone without an appointment. Mr Suh is the head of this company, not someone you can just meet without an agreement from him. Please leave this instance,” she said, her tone high pitched enough to gather everyone’s attention, you swore you heard someone laughing a few feet away.

“But...

“That’s my guest, Ms Park.”

You whipped your head back to see Johnny standing behind you. But instead of his usual warm honey eyes, his eyes were a cold and staring daggers into the woman in front of you.

“I’m so sorry, Mr Suh. I’ll get back to my work now,” the woman bowed apologetically, going as far as doing it numerous times.

“I’m going to need a key card for her, Ms Park. Send it up to me when you’re done,” Johnny said, but his eyes were scanning the crowd, his employees immediately went back to what they were doing, the large lobby void of any sound other than people rushing to the lift lobby to escape the scene.

Johnny placed a hand behind your back and guided you to the lift lobby after most of the people have taken the ride up to their respective floors.

“I’m sorry,” you said after the coast was clear.

Johnny’s intimidating stance broke as confusion takes over his face.

“What are you sorry for?” Johnny asked, he should be the one saying sorry.

“I’m such an embarrassment, coming here in my jeans and jacket with a canvas bag, looking like a kid,” you said, fingers nervously tugging the straps of your old bag.

“Hey, hey, hey. Nothing’s wrong with being young and dressing your age. They’re just grumpy from all the work. Don’t take their words into account, and you look great. Perfection as always,” Johnny said reassuringly, hands placed on your shoulder, the warmth of his palms calming you slightly.

“No....

You buried your face into your hands as he patted your head, you sneakily glanced up to see him smiling at you with a toothy grin. But you quickly regained posture as you saw an elevator door open with many pairs of legs.

Johnny wasn’t going in even though the lift was going up, that’s when people in the lift realised it was him, and quickly came out of the lift, saying sorry and greeting Johnny.

Johnny guided you in after the lift was cleared empty. His staff looking at you curiously, you weren’t used to having so many pairs of eyes on you, their curious eyes burning holes into you.

Johnny could sense your anxiousness from the way you were hiding behind his tall figure as the two of you walked into his office, there weren’t many people at that time, given the fact that only direct reports of his business partners came up to hand in documents.

You only felt yourself loosen up a bit after you took a seat on Johnny’s armchair in his huge office, overlooking Seoul’s skyline and the cars that were buzzing about on the roads. The view made you calm down a bit from the journey coming up here.

You felt the chair dip as Johnny took a seat on its armrest, his hands coming up to give your shoulders a nice massage. Johnny smiled at the way your eyes lit up from his comforting touch as you looked back to smile at him, he felt a warm feeling deep in his belly as he takes in your beautiful features and the warmth of your shoulders on his fingertips. But as he puts more pressure onto your shoulders, you wince slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Did your boss at work make you lift heavy stuff again?” Johnny asked, his hands ceased all movements, fearing that he would hurt you again.

You automatically thought of your fight with your father last night, it might be because of the force exerted from when he had pushed you.

“N-no, I just didn’t sleep well last night. I watched a horror movie and had a nightmare,” you lied, not knowing how he would react if you told him the truth.

“Be careful when watching these movies, Y/N. If you went to work and your boss really made you move heavy things today, then you would’ve strain your muscles,” Johnny said, going back to massaging your shoulders, but this time gently applying pressure on that spot, rubbing it in clockwise circles to ease the pain.

“I’m fine, Johnny. Didn’t you have work to rush? I don’t want to keep you away from important matters. And my shoulders feel much better now,” you said, moving away from his hands even though you could’ve let him do that forever, it felt so comforting, borderline addictive.

“Okay, I’ll tend to your shoulders again later.” Johnny said as he lays his head on top of yours, a gesture that he had came up with whenever he wanted to show affection to you without crossing uncharted territories, your heart sped up whenever he does that.

You were just sitting on the couch reading one of your old books when you looked up and saw Johnny frowning at his laptop, you placed your book down and made your way to Johnny.

“Don’t frown like that, you’ll get frown lines when you’ll get older, it’ll spoil your handsome face,” you joked.

Your hands reach out to smooth the creases on his forehead, a smile coming back to Johnny’s face.

“Thank you,” he said, taking your busy hand into his, lightly tracing the area between your thumb and your index finger.

“What’s bothering you?” you asked, unbeknownst to you, your lips were unconsciously set in a pout.

“There’s some documents that are supposed to be sent to my office in Chicago, but the English that’s written here isn’t up to standards, I’m worried the staff there won’t understand what the document is stating. I don’t mind correcting it, but I have other things to tend to as well,” Johnny explained to you.

“Can I take a look at it? I had Cambridge classes for 8 years. Guess it’s finally coming in handy. I mean only if you think I’m capable, I don’t want you to think I’m boasting or anything, I just really wanna help...

“Y/N, sweet, I trust you. Just let me get you a laptop,” he said before dialling to his secretary.

Once Johnny sent the files to that laptop, you started correcting some grammatical errors and replaced some terms that weren’t as professional, when Johnny was done with his meeting, you were done with the documents as well.

“Here, take a look. There might be mistakes,” you said after sending him the files back.

“You were reading ‘me before you’, I think you’re fine, Y/N,” Johnny deadpanned.

“Just take a look, just in case,” you pleaded, doe eyes capturing his heart. Nodding, Johnny smiles, doing as you said.

Johnny scanned through the documents, his eyes lighting up brighter after each sentence, a proud smile making way on his face. When he was done, he pulled you close by the waist, and gave you a warm hug, his head nuzzling into your sweater.

“Thank you so much, sweetheart. I thought I needed to work overtime because of this,” he said, his voice was slightly muffled by the cotton.

“You’re welcome. You can always send me these files when I’m not here, I don’t want you to overwork yourself,” you offered.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Wanna grab lunch? I can hear your stomach rumbling,” Johnny asked after pulling away, a cheeky glint in his eyes.

You could feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, as you hit Johnny’s shoulders lightly for his teasing, a smile creeping up your face.

“No, I’m not...

“Come on, I know this really nice French restaurant around the corner...

“Johnny I have the file you were...

Doyoung stops in his tracks as he sees you and Johnny being so close to each other.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a guest,” Doyoung apologises, but his eyes were still wide in disbelief.

“Doyoung. This is Y/N. Y/N, Doyoung is one of my business partners, his dad was my dad’s business partner so now it’s his turn,” Johnny introduces his friend to you, telling you a bit of his background.

You gave Doyoung a tiny bow and soft hello, nerves wrecking up at meeting someone you often see on telly whenever their company has a press conference. You could sense an air of discomfort as Doyoung gives you a questioning look.

“You can just put the files on my desk Doyoung. I’ll take a look at them after my lunch break.”

When the evening rolled in, Johnny had to drive you home before your mom questioned your whereabouts.

“I really enjoyed having you by my side today, Y/N,” Johnny said sincerely after pulling up outside the gated area.

“I should be the one thanking you, I can’t believe those snails cost so much, yet you won’t let me pay you back whenever we have meals together,” you retorted, recalling how your eyes almost flew out of their sockets when you stole a glance at the bill.

“Money is not an issue, Y/N. I told you that many times before,” Johnny reminded you.

“I’ll see you on Saturday?” you asked, changing the subject before he offers to buy you a house or something.

“Yeah,” Johnny said, chuckling at how you diverted his attention.

Johnny unlocked the doors of his car, but right before you pulled onto the handle, Johnny pulled your arm, the place where one of the bigger bruises were located at, making you wince at the unexpected pain.

“Y/N I wanted to ask, wait. Are you in pain? Are you hurt? Did I accidentally hurt you?” Johnny asked his eyes wide in worry.

Before you could protest, Johnny pushed up the sleeves of your sweater, revealing the big ugly bruise on your upper arm, and several others that went downwards until your wrist.

You looked up at Johnny, scanning his face that was frozen in shock, eyes not believing what he’s seeing. His fingers gently tracing every bruise, his other hand rotating your arm gently, to see if there’s more.

“Y/N... Who did this to you?” Johnny questioned, but deep down in his gut, he’s sure it’s who he thinks it is.

“No one, Johnny. I just fell down when I woke up,” you said, lying through your teeth, you didn’t want to, but that was your survival instinct whenever someone asks about your parents.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N, it’s them isn’t it? They hit you. Why didn’t you tell me?” Johnny demanded, he questions why you don’t trust him, was he not worthy in your eyes?

“It’s nothing, Johnny. Goodnight,” you said in a breath before turning away.

You quickly got out of his car and ran to your lift lobby, Johnny was following behind you. But before he could step into the premise, you shut the glass door which could only be opened with a security card on him, mouthing the words sorry before you made your way into a lift.

Johnny banged at the door, shouting for you to come back, before the security guards asked him to leave. He could feel a prickle in his heart as he sees the bruises in his head, the image fresh. He felt red hot anger boiling in his heart, he was going to get you out of that horrible place, no matter what it takes.

#nct smut #nct fluff #johnny smut #johnny suh #johnny fluff #nct #wayv #nct dream #nct 127

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

Text

Hopelessness of Wanting [Part 2]

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader

Continuation of an angsty dark fic request.

Warnings: suicidal thoughts/attempt (I made myself real sad with this one so be warned if you’re vulnerable to negative thinking), NSFW, smut (gender-neutral), unhealthy relationship, depression, neurodivergent reader. Melancholy rambling.

3,200 words

“Don’t worry about what Dr. Chilton thinks,” Nurse Clerval advised as soon as he was out of earshot. “He’s an asshole.”

“Yeah, but”—you tugged the hem of your scrubs—“He’s right. I keep messing up. I think he hates me.” You stopped there, too ashamed to admit you were the biggest fuck-up on the entire staff, new or not, or that you could tell Dr. Chilton regretted his decision to hire you.

“And the rest of us hate him. Just keep doing your job, learn the ropes—he’ll back off.”

You nodded silently and continued your rounds, delivering meds and checking in on patients. Amy had to be restrained again when she wouldn’t stop biting. Julianne seemed more confused lately, though you hadn’t known any of them long enough to tell what was normal.

Clerval’s words hung over you. It didn’t seem right that everyone hated Dr. Chilton. He was a little brusque, yes, but intelligent. Wickedly sarcastic. Posturing and puffing himself up whenever people he admired came to visit the hospital, and he wanted badly to impress them. Lonely.

Your cheeks heated at the thought of those intense bursts of green under his brow—the first thing you noticed when he conducted your interview. His eyes almost matched the light green scrubs you wore at the hospital you trained in, though the uniform here was white (as if leaning into the One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest vibe.)

But what drew you in wasn’t that his eyes were beautiful—though they were—it was the way they made contact with yours. Staring you down with fake confidence, as if he were forcing it. That stare must have been off-putting to most people, but it made your spirit leap with that particular spark of connection one only feels when finding a kindred spirit.

“Hey! Still sulking? Hurry it up,” Clerval called, jolting you to attention. You trotted after.

It was nice having a mentor on the staff, but at the same time, it just felt like having another person to eventually disappoint.

“Here! What’s next?” you beamed.

***

Dr. Chilton didn’t back off over the next few weeks as Nurse Clerval suggested. The more you thought you were getting the hang of routines at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, the more mistakes you seemed to make, and the harder its administrator came down on you. And the more the handsome, scarred Dr. Chilton hated you, the more nervous mistakes you made.

In nursing school, you aced everything technical. Every written test. Every memorized statistic, sterilization procedure, medication instruction, and anatomy diagram. But when it came to interacting with patients and families—being compassionate yet professional—nothing came naturally. As a child, you learned how to fake eye contact by staring at the bridge of someone’s nose. How to smile bright and encourage others so they don’t reject you. So they don’t see you as cold or weird. But sometimes, you felt like an alien just parroting human behavior.

The guy you had been dating when you started working at the BSHCI said something similar to you when he broke it off. That you were “unavailable” and never understood what he needed.

There was a reason your first choice job was at a hospital where the only patients were mentally ill murderers.

Dr. Frederick Chilton was the same way. Just better at hiding it, or braver about not caring when his mannerisms rubbed people the wrong way. He didn’t fall apart like you did. He was… incredible. As soon as you met him, you knew you wanted the job. His smile was forced but friendly that first day, and you went home dreaming about getting to know him better.

But as soon as you were hired, the friendliness went out of his eyes. On your very first day, you passed him in the hall and smiled. He frowned and informed you that you were five minutes late clocking in. Everything—every forgotten ID card and typo on a patient file—was proof to Dr. Chilton that you were incompetent.

Worthless.

He even pointed it out when you couldn’t stand up for yourself and let Nurse Clerval defend you.

Pathetic.

Why did you ever think someone like him might like you?

He wasn’t an asshole. The constant reprimanding and disciplinary write-ups were no more than you deserved. It just hurt coming from someone you admired and wished things could be different with.

God, you wished just once he would smile at you again. Tell you that you did a good job.

Your fist hovered over the dark mahogany of the carved doors to Dr. Chilton’s office, poised to knock. To tender your resignation. You hadn’t seen the extravagant interior of his office since your interview, but you could imagine him in there: laying back on the leather couch sipping a Scotch, surrounded by tall shelves of medical books and sculpted wall molding. The air filled with the library smell of old paper.

In your imagination, his cold green eyes would soften, and he would ask why you were leaving. Apologize for being so hard on you. The Chilton in your mind clasped your hand, and you both blushed, wondering if the gesture was merely a show of professional support, or if it held a deeper meaning. He clasped tighter instead of dropping your hand, knowing— understanding—the heat behind your gaze.

A dull thud came from inside the office, followed by footsteps and a muttering voice, muffled through the door. The footsteps started heading your way, and you walked briskly down the hall toward the exit, not looking back when a moment later, the mahogany doors creaked open.

Coward.

There was no point quitting, anyway. You would never find another hospital job as slow-paced, where you rarely had to speak with outsiders—only the regular long-term patient-inmates, and a small staff of orderlies, guards, nurses, and psychiatrists.

Sometimes you thought you should quit nursing altogether, but then what would you do? Flip burgers? You’d be bad at that, too. There was nothing you wouldn’t be a failure at.

A fog hovered over you, creeping its tendrils into every thought, turning every tiny setback into the end of the world, and making every success unimportant. Leaving BSHCI wouldn’t make it better. Nothing would make it better. You were the fuck-up. Anywhere you went, the problem would always be you.

Every smile you gave was forced, but you kept smiling as if everything was normal. So long as nobody could see you drowning, it wasn’t real. There was still hope that you could get your shit together, and no one would be the wiser that you were actually a disgusting piece of human trash. So long as you could smile like you were fine, you weren’t a complete failure.

But the more you pretended to be upbeat—pretended to be someone likable—the more you were certain your coworkers didn’t like you. They must have been sick of covering for you by now.

A week later, the nurse you were replacing grunted, “Finally,” as you sprinted through the door three minutes after your shift started. That one unremarkable interaction was the final proof of a theory you had been nursing for a long time:

Everyone’s lives would be easier without you.

That was the final conclusion, the final, creeping thought the suffocating fog wormed into your head. The crescendo of a distorted symphony that had been subtly building to this from the beginning.

You couldn’t force yourself to smile anymore.

***

You didn’t have authorized access to the medication supply room, but you swiped a key from Dr. Tenley’s office. For a secure facility, the doctors of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane were lax about locking their own offices. She would notice it was missing by Monday morning, and there would be serious repercussions for stealing it, but you weren’t concerned. You wouldn’t be around to face them.

With the high-potency drugs available in a hospital and a working knowledge of pharmacology, ending a life could be quick and relatively painless.

The key clicked in the door. You glanced up and down the hallway to make sure no one was coming. But the coast was clear.

A halfhearted breath puffed from your nose. Part of you wanted to find it funny how easy this was, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

You stealthily opened the windowless metal door, stepped inside, and shut and locked it behind you without making a sound. Once inside the small room, you let out a silent sigh of relief (or despair). Only a handful of people had a key, so you were unlikely to be interrupted, especially at night with only a skeleton staff on duty.

There were three rows of tall storage shelves crammed into the walk-in closet with clean tile in the few places wall was exposed. The whir of a climate-control system drowned out the pulse in your ears as you scanned for the drugs you were looking for.

You found them faster than expected. They could have at least been hidden. The universe could have put a few more obstacles in your path, but instead, the universe was giving you a big fat sign it wanted you dead.

You picked up the packaging. Turned it over in your hand.

Just a handful of these, and all the problems you cause would be over. No more reprimands. No more disappointing everyone you meet. No more wrenching in your gut every time Dr. Chilton looks at you with contempt when you long to see a smile. No more trying so hard every minute of every day.

It wasn’t like too many people would be sad you were gone anyway. Most of them will be relieved.

Your eyes stung.

Wasn’t someone going to walk in and stop you?

Your lip trembled. Why would anyone want to stop you?

Tears rolled down your face as the reality of your plan set in. Survival instinct kicked and clawed at the cloying fog of twisted logic that promised you would be helping everyone if you stopped existing, but it was losing the battle.

And then you heard someone call your name.

You sniffed and looked up. No… not someone calling your name. Moaning it. You crept to the last row of shelves at the back and gasped—Dr. Chilton had his laptop tucked onto a shelf and was watching a clip of security feed on loop. His red, glistening erection thick in his hand as he masturbated, whimpering your name over and over.

You watched silently—he was so engrossed he didn’t notice your shadow falling over the aisle. It was only when the package of drugs slipped from your hand and clattered on the floor that he jumped with a shriek, covering himself, though his massive erection was still conspicuous in his pants. His eyes bugged out at you, face red with embarrassment—but then they quickly narrowed to anger.

“What are you doing in here? You are not authorized to be in this room,” he barked.

All you could think about was what you heard—the name gasping from his lips. It overpowered every other thought. “Were you… imagining me?”

His nostrils flared. He hastily shut the laptop which was looping security footage of you outside his office door.

Then he laughed—forced and cruel. “What I imagine is not your concern. Do not read into it. I have never shown you special treatment, have I? Do you think that I could have feelings for an incompetent nurse?”

“I know that!” Your lip trembled again now that the briefest spark of hope you had was shattered. Of course he didn’t like you. He was just a pervert who jacked off to all the nurses. “Don’t you think I know that I’m worthless? You’ve made it abundantly clear.”

Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks, and Chilton’s eyes softened, as if for the first time realizing that all his attempts to hurt you had succeeded. You were hurt. And he did not enjoy it as much as he thought.

“You are not worthless,” he said quietly. Then his eyes flicked down to the floor, at the medication you dropped. He picked it up, read what it was. His expression fell. “What were you doing in here, nurse?” he swallowed.

“Nothing. I just… needed something for a patient.”

“Lie,” he said.

You looked away. Everything was numb. It barely even occurred to you that someone stopped you after all. A handsome, awkward, cruel doctor you admired was in the same room with you and had said his first kind words since the day you met.

He took a slow step toward you. Then another. His hand—slender and surprisingly large—pressed your arm in an attempt at a comforting gesture. An alien parroting human behavior.

“You are not worthless. I assure you, none of your mistakes have been grievous. You are certainly not the least competent of my staff. Far from it. So don’t…” He swallowed. “…Do not do anything rash.”

“Sure,” you scoffed. “Then why am I the one you’re always reprimanding? The one always being called to your office?” You knew what he thought of you; he was just trying to talk you down.

“That…” he began in a broken voice, “That must be painfully obvious now.”

Your eyes peeled away from the floor and found his face, and the storm of emotions flashing over it. Shame. Trepidation. A faint light of hope.

“You like me?” Your voice sounded far away. The analytical part of your brain was whirring away above the swamp of depression bogging you down with lies that nobody could like you. But it made sense. As the words spilled from your mouth, it was like a veil lifted.

Pulling pigtails. He was pulling your pigtails because he liked you. A middle-aged psychiatrist ought to have more emotional maturity handling a crush than a third-grader, but there was a reason he worked at a hospital where the only patients were mentally ill murderers. There was a reason his staff hated him. Why he was lonely, and why you desperately wanted to be the one to fill the empty space by his side.

Frederick Chilton was a lot like you.

You could understand each other and be less alone in this world, together.

***

His eyes were closed and he was muttering something self-flagellating and vaguely apologetic when the kinetic sense of you moving closer caused Frederick Chilton to look up.

No longer out at arm’s distance, you were within each other’s breathing space. And now, he was genuinely terrified—terrified you were going to return his feelings. Of the joy it might bring crashing down on him like an airplane. He read something he never expected to see in your body language, and it shook him deeper than being walked in on with his cock in his hands.

You should have reported him for ethics violations.

If you made the case to the hospital board that he created a hostile work environment because he wanted you sexually, he would lose his job and do everybody a favor.

But this—the intention in your body—this was the farthest thing from what he deserved. You confirmed his fear when your soft, perfect lips melded against his. Yet, as always when he knew a thing was wrong, he did not push you away. Did nothing to stop you. He let you deepen the kiss slowly, and you were warm, the taste of you sweeter than he imagined in all his lonely nights of fantasizing.

His cock twitched, your closeness awakening his urges again. He moaned as your lips parted, his lips parting with them, and your tongue gently probed inside. You were tentative at first, investigating only the nearest reaches of his inner lips, and then his hand spasmed on your arm, and with a low growl, he pulled your closer—then you became ravenous. All the turbulent emotions churning within you broke free in that kiss. You sobbed into his mouth, your tongue, hot and fervent, explored and assaulted the depths of him, your hands weaving into the hair behind his neck, and he could taste your salt. It was all his tongue could do to keep up—to let himself be consumed.

Dear god, if only that passion would have ended him then and there. The moment your lips met his in an unexpected act of reciprocation was the fulfillment of every want, every tattered and twisted hope—the highest delight a man such as him could achieve. And he knew—rightly so—that all that could follow was suffering of his own design.

Dear god, let me die before I see this in ruins. Let me die with my happiness.

***

The sex wasn’t all that good. But then again, you had gone into that supply closet intending to never come out, so overall, being fucked by the man you had been pining for was a positive turn of events.

It wasn’t how you’d imagined your first time with Dr. Chilton, pressed against a cold tile wall. A hungry kiss led to his clothed erection pushing against your thigh, led to you unbuckling his belt.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he whispered hoarsely, nervous eyes darkened with lust—and you nodded, sliding down your scrub pants, which stuck on your sneakers, hobbling your ankles. He was in too much of a rush to let you take them off—he only opened up his slacks and pulled his cock out of the fly of his briefs. And then he was thrusting into you from behind—frantic, desperate. Your ankles being bound only added to the thrill of him being in control. Dr. Chilton wanted you after all—fantasized about you—and now he was taking you, and all you had to do was surrender to his desire.

His breathy moans rose with each snap of his hips, his hands traveling up your chest under your shirt, fingers curling around your neck, possessing you. Touching every inch of skin he could get his hands on. And that noise that saved your life, your name on his lips, he chanted in your ear.

He was fast—hips racing as if this were his only chance, and if he waited, you would disappear—and he finished fast. You didn’t spend long with your face pressed to the cold tile when his moans broke into a shattered scream, and his head slumped, sweaty, against your back.

Then he turned you around to face him and got on his knees. Heedless of his own mess that he’d left sticky and bitter inside you, he pumped his fingers into you and sucked like he was fulfilling a duty. Clinical about the task, and efficient. It didn’t take him long to bring your arousal to a climax in his mouth.

After, he was quiet. When you had cleaned up, he looked at you like you were a mistake… only you weren’t certain what kind of mistake. If you reached out to reassure him, would he jerk away and tell you to never speak of this again?

“Was it… all you expected?” you asked robotically. Your arm crossed your body, hugging yourself.

And then he kissed you again, softly. He ran his fingers over your hair and pulled back just far enough to study your face. His eyes were wet, clouded with a million thoughts and regrets you would only learn about later.

“You are perfect,” he whispered.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Since I went some places this chapter... Please don’t bottle up your feelings if they’re telling you horrible things about yourself. They aren’t true, I promise. You matter. ❤️

Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

Online chat: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/chat/

Help via Text: https://www.crisistextline.org/ (Text HOME to 741741)

List of additional resources: https://www.healthline.com/health/mental-health/suicide-resource-guide

Tags:

@beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @dreamlover31 / @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes / @barbasimp / @storiesofsvu / @welcometothemxdhouse / @feedthemadness-sweetie / @law-nerd105 / @amelia-song-pond / @michael-rooker / @xecq

#frederick chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #dark fic #angst #This was supposed to be a oneshot! *sobbing* A oneshot!!!#my writing

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silkylious · 4 years

Note

Pro heroes Katsuki , Deku, Kiri trending on Twitter after posting a video of them and their s/o doing the baby mama dance how they react and

A/N: Thank you for the request! since you didn’t specify if you wanted a scenario or headcanons, i’ll do headcanons since they're easier for me to write, hope thats okay!

also i have a todoroki oneshot in the works, so stay tuned for that!

Kirishima Eijirou

Kirishima was probably the one to bring up the dance in the first place. A toothy grin stretched his face as he leaped over the back of the couch, where you’d been enjoying a quaint read, a dainty hand caressing your engorged stomach. His hand snatching the book right out from your grasp, he didn’t give you a chance to respond before he practically shoved his phone in your face. An eyebrow raised skeptically at his antics, shifting your gaze to the screen in front of you.

“Eiji, what’s this...?” He explained the challenge, his sharky smile only widening the further he explained. You were a little hesitant at first, and as you were about to voice your apprehension, your eyes caught sight of his smile, childlike and boyish. Fuck. How could you say no to that?

You spent a good half an hour trying to get the dance moves right, Eijirou cheering you on while fucking up his own moves.

Kirishima can’t dance to save his life. You can’t convince me otherwise. But did that stop him? Nope.

He adjusted the camera on make-shift tripod, consisting of boxes and other random objects. he started the timer and you two began busting out moves, Eijirou still lacking all the skill needed for this exercise, his moves choppy and uncoordinated, though his enthusiasm made up for his amateurism. The precious grin adorning his face made you glad you took him up on his offer.

By the end of the routine, both of you were left panting for oxygen. He heaved a breathless chuckle before pulling you into his grip from behind, his large hands gingerly stroking your tummy, his lips pressed lovingly to your cheek. With his signature million watt smile ever present on his face, he sighed out words of tranquil, “Thanks for doing this, babe,” he pressed another exaggerated kiss to your face.

The video was posted on his official Twitter, right before you went to bed.

The next morning, no words could articulate the sheer affection you felt bubbling up in your chest when you opened your eyes to the sight of Eijirou’s pure jubilation. Just the look of unbridled happiness on his face made you fall head over heels for him all over again. While you were busy ogling him, his own heart accelerated with uninhibited pride and love as his eyes scanned the screen in his hands.

Kirishima loved to show you off, how could he not? you were amazing in every sense of the word, and you were all his, to love and to cherish. So you can only imagine the utter joy he felt when he saw #TinyRiot trending on twitter.

He skimmed through the countless replies and comments of people congratulating the couple and clowning on his less than impressive choreography, some were from his coworkers, some were from his fans, he replied to them as best as he could with delight radiating off of him. He continued going through his mentions until he eventually felt the heated stare on his face. Turning to his side, he finally met your eyes, your rounded figure peacefully nestled beside him on the bed, your stare so full with love and mirth it made his chest tighten, almost suffocating him.

Kirishima has always been good with words, and people in general but in that moment no matter how hard he tried to speak nothing would come out of his mouth, captivated by your adoring gaze. You looked at him like he was your entire universe. And he couldn’t handle that, the feeling building in his gut becoming too much for him.

He had to let it out, less he spontaneously combust. Since he knew his voice would fail him if he tried to speak, he settled for pulling you in for a passionate kiss, hoping it would convey all the words he couldn’t say.

Midoriya Izuku

When you first approached him with the idea he had been a bit apprehensive. Don’t get him wrong, heaven knows he’d do anything to keep you content. But being in the position he was in, Izuku was painfully, sadly aware of the target put on not only his back, but his family as well.

He didn’t want to expose you and his child to the danger that came with his blinding spotlight.

Izuku wears his heart on his sleeve. No matter how hard he tried to mask it, the boy was an open book, so you could immediately sense the reluctance on his face when you mentioned posting the video online.

You knew of the complications that came with dating a Pro-hero, the number one Pro-hero, so you were perfectly understanding of his hesitance and didn’t push it further. Though you couldn’t help the disappointment that flooded your features either.

The look of mild discontent on your face didn’t sit well with him, his conscious already conquered by guilt. As his green irises descended onto your pregnant belly, something in him snapped.

He wanted to provide his unborn son with a normal childhood, well as normal as someone like him could. And he wouldn’t be able to do that if he kept barring his family from enjoying the simple delicacies of life in fear of getting them hurt. He was a hero, for god’s sake! The arrival of a new addition in his tight-knit family only meant that he’d have to work harder to forge the perfect world for them, for his son.

His habit of mumbling his thoughts had you fully aware of the dilemma going on in his head, and you knew if you didn’t stop him now nothing else would. His forehead was flicked by dainty, soft fingers, snapping him out of his trance, “It’s fine, ‘Zuku, don’t worry about it.” too late, he’d already made up his mind.

Now with his previous dread thrown out the window, he grabbed your hands and hopped off the couch where he’d been previously watching some All Might docuseries, a determined look in his wide verdant eyes.

You spent a good hour practicing the moves, Deku was holding up just fine, the dance classes he’d taken with Mina during the Cultural Festival doing a good number on him. With enough effort and unrelenting obstinacy, he’d mastered the routine in record time. Now with the camera set up, it was time to preform.The whole dance, a gentle twinkle lit up his face, he truly couldn’t be more content watching you dance your heart out without a care.

The clip was posted, and you two were off to prepare dinner, ignorant to the fucking storm of notifications blowing his phone up.

Now hear me out; Deku absolutely fanboys over All Might in interviews or in public. His fans had already noticed the striking similarities between their quirks and they were well aware of his love of the retired Pro, so he was dubbed “All Might Jr.” His heart almost went into cardiac arrest when he saw #SmallMight trending on Twitter. Poor boy had just finished washing the dishes, he went to check his phone only for all colour to leave his face before he was red as a damn tomato.

You peered over his shoulder to see what had gotten him so flustered only to bring your fist to your mouth in a fruitless attempt at silencing your fit of giggles.

Now as blissful as it was to have a combination of his fans and colleagues (who had already known about the pregnancy) congratulating him, he knew it wouldn’t take long for the media to scrutinise his decision, bringing unwanted discourse into his personal life. But he was more than ready for that, after all, he had vowed to himself that he would protect you and his child, whether from villains or from mainstream media, he would let you both live your lives without any inhibitions.

Bakugo Katsuki

Katsuki flat out refused when you initially asked him. Which was to be expected. Katsuki is private person when it comes to personal matters, you literally had to beg him to tell your friends about the pregnancy (honestly you were about ready to pull up a PowerPoint presentation on why Friends Matter and They Deserve to Know Important News™)

The rejection didn’t stop you from nagging him about it though.

He was in a similar situation to Deku, being the number two Pro-hero and the symbol of victory shined a light on him, for better or worse, he didn’t want to expose you and his daughter to the dark facets of his career. That and he did think it was stupid. He didn’t understand the appeal of sharing something so special with the general public, it was your private lives dammit!

“Why do you wanna do it so bad?” it was a valid question, though phrased with overbearing aggression, he was getting fed up with your persistence. He immediately dialed down his abrasiveness when you flinched, your gaze descending to the floor, your hormones making you more susceptible to his harsh mannerisms.

“I just thought it would be cute to do...” Your voice trailed off, and his mind berated him as he watched your bottom lip quiver. He just couldn’t resist you, could he?

Eventually, he gave in, but he made it a point to spend as little time as humanly possible on the dance. Which was honestly very easy for him, the guy is a natural at almost everything, fucking figures he can dance. It made you a bit jealous how good he effortlessly was.

Bakugo did nothing half-assed, this was no exception. As the routine progressed, he loosened up more, almost enjoying the exercise, wouldn’t admit it though, he’s very adamant about making this seem like a chore even though he relished in that bright smile of yours. Tsundere headass.

The recording went by without a hitch, Katsuki putting his all into the choreography and slipping you a few gentle caresses here and there. Overall, the cheeky grin on your face made it worth the trouble.

He spurned posting the video on his account, so it ended up being posted on yours, you had a decent following and in minutes the #MiniSplosion was trending.

Even he couldn’t deny the wave of pride that puffed up his chest, reading the influx of comments bleeding in. He loved showing you off, but his position made it damn near impossible to do that. He wanted to protect you, he figured after this he’d just have to work harder to keep his family safe.

You totally teased him about being a softie on the inside, but you didn’t push it too much, not wanting to tarnish the mood. He’d reply back with some empty remark but the soft tug at his lips, the tenderness in his stare and absence of his usual frown betrayed him, god he was such a sap for you. Pulling you in for an abnormally sweet peck, vastly different from his usual ferocious, passion filled kisses, he flicked your forehead and muttered, “You happy now?”

The surmounting adoration in his heart partially scared him, he couldn’t believe he fell that hard for someone. Yet he wouldn’t have it any other way, he couldn’t even imagine the idea of being without you, without his daughter. He was lucky to land himself such a strong, patient and kind partner, one that would stick it out with him through the end, and now he was undoubtedly going to flaunt it.

@Ground_Zero: My babygirls <3

...

Let’s just say it didn’t take long for #SoftGroundZero to go viral too.

#kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #deku x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #kirishima headcanons #midoriya headcanons #bakugo headcanons

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rainy-day-gracie · 4 years

Text

Old Friends 4

Spencer Reid x reader

This chapter includes more of Reader’s backstory, I included a brother, but if you don’t have a brother... just do whatever you want. More fluff!!

Enjoy :)

Chapter 5 has been posted!!

Chapter 4:

“C’mon, smarty pants! We can do it!” I was practically yelling in between pants and heaves. “So close!”

“I hate you so much,” I heard him wheeze.

I was the only one in the world that could convince Spencer to go on a jog through the city, and I think he was regretting that decision severely. “Do it for donuts!”

When we finally reached our end destination, he practically collapsed onto a nearby bench, his chest heaving up and down.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I asked with a smile. “We’re close to the cafe and the subway, so we won’t even have to walk that far.”

“For the record, it definitely was that bad, YFN. Don’t try and sugar coat it.”

I grabbed his wrist and pulled him off the bench. “We need carbs, right now. Carbs covered in chocolate and sprinkles, let’s go.”

He groaned and followed me into the cafe. “Where will we get changed into work clothes?”

“They have bathrooms at the BAU. Stop whining-“ I stopped talking as soon as I saw who was in front of me.

Morgan looked just as surprised to see us, sweaty, tired, and together, at 7:30 in the morning. His surprised look quickly changed into an amused one, and Morgan started chuckling. “Well, hello, lovebirds.”

“Hello, Morgan,” I said, feeling like I was caught. But we weren’t, right? We’re not dating, and all we did was go for a jog together. “Um, good morning.”

I could feel Spencer’s nervous energy rolling off of him. “Hey, Morgan.”

Morgan gave one last chuckle, and left the cafe without another word. Through the window I could see him pulling out his phone. There was nothing we could do about it now.

It was only our luck. I chuckled slightly at the thought, and turned to the cashier. “Four chocolate covered donuts with sprinkles, an unsweetened iced tea, and a large coffee with lots of milk and sugar please.”

---

I sat at my desk, trying not to laugh at how Spencer winced every time he had to move his legs. Morgan kept looking over at us and chuckling.

I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t a big deal. No matter what happens, we’re still old friends. We aren’t dating, and a jog in the early morning together isn’t exactly romantic.

During our lunch break, JJ came up to me. “Why is Morgan giggling like a four year old?”

“Well, Spencer and I went on a jog together this morning. We went to a cafe after and Morgan was there also.” I explained in a low voice. “He’s now convinced we were on some kind of date, which we weren’t.”

JJ looked dumbfounded. “Spence must care about you more than we thought. No one’s ever been able to get him to go on a jog before.”

I laughed. “Well, I think he now hates me for it so-“

“Hello, wonderful people!” Garcia called from the railing. “We have a case!”

---

“First victim, Bethany Conlin, was found beaten to death just outside of a small town, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Pagosa Springs?”

Garcia looked confused. “Yeah, What is it?”

“Oh um, nothing, it’s just my hometown.” Not much of a home anymore.

“Oh cool! Anyways, a second victim, Cassie Holloway, was found by some hikers by a commonly traveled trail in the woods. Also beaten to death.”

I tried to keep tears out of my eyes. Cassie?

The team quickly talked over theories for a profile. The only thing I heard was, “Wheels up in 30.”

Before we left, Spencer and Morgan both pulled me aside.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked quietly.

“You could barely keep it together in there.” Morgan added.

I took a deep breath. “Cassie... She was my best friend until I moved away. She was the sweetest...” I squeezed my eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. “And she was murdered.”

They were both silent.

I opened my eyes, anger replacing my sadness. “Let’s catch this son of a bitch.”

---

Hotch gave assignments on the jet. “Rossi, Reid, YLN, go to the ME to find out what you can about the bodies. Morgan, JJ, you guys go to the dump sites. Prentiss and I will interview the families.”

“Actually, Hotch,” I interjected. “Could I possibly interview the families? Um... Cassie Holloway was my good friend, and I’m from Pagosa Springs.” I looked down at the file in my lap. Cassie’s file.

Hotch considered it. “That would be alright. They might share more with you if they already know you. And YLN?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry for your friend.”

---

Cassie’s parents looked exactly the same as they did when we were 10. Her mom had dark red hair, and her dad was bald. I used to think they looked scary, but now they just looked sad.

I cleared my throat when I walked into the room. “Um, Mr. and Mrs. Holloway? I don’t know if you remember me but-“

Her mother gasped. “YFN? Is that you?”

I gave a small smile. “Yes, I’m here to catch Cassie’s killer. Um, have you seen her recently?”

Her father sniffled. “We saw her two days ago. We had dinner together, and... she was fine.” He erupted into a fit of tears.

It hurt me in my chest to see this kind man that had practically raised me until I was twelve so broken up like this. “Did she mention anyone that had bothered her? Or someone she might’ve rejected? I know she’s a local bartender, maybe someone there?”

Her mother shook her head, rubbing her husband’s back. “You know Cassie... everyone loved her.”

It was true. Cassie was one of the kindest souls I’ve ever come across. “One last question... does she know Bethany Conlin?”

Both of her parents looked at each other, then back at me. “Yes,” her mother breathed. “They were sorority sisters together in college.”

---

“Hotch!” I called across the station. “Bethany and Cassie were sorority sisters in college. They both went to Colorado State, they hadn’t spoken in a couple years, but it couldn’t be a coincidence that they both ended up dead in a week's period.”

“This makes it highly likely that whoever is doing this went to college with them.” Hotch pulled out his phone.

“What do you need, bossman?” Garcia called over speakerphone.

“Garcia, Bethany and Cassie were sorority sisters in college. Can you find any incidents with the two of them that stand out or could be a motive?” I didn’t realize how fast my heart was beating until I stopped talking.

“Hmmm... nothing jumps out, but I’m going to investigate further! Goodbye, my lovelies!”

As soon as we hung up, the local sheriff approached us. “We just got an anonymous tip saying a third body would be found in an old abandoned bar on the edge of town,” the sheriff paused, and looked at me. “The caller said you had to be the one to find it first. Otherwise, and I quote, ‘there will be more than beaten bones next time’.”

I took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

---

The abandoned bar smelled like stale beer and mildew. I felt an odd chill when I entered the door, Hotch and Emily waiting outside.

Pulling out a flashlight, the eerie bar creaked with every step I took. It wasn’t until I saw the pair of feet lying on the ground that made me stop, the bar falling silent.

Slowly rounding the corner, I saw the torn clothing and broken body of a young man, probably the same age as me. I looked at his pale hands, and then I saw the ring. A plain gold ring that read ‘be strong for me’.

“Oh my god,” I whispered.

My feet couldn’t carry me fast enough out of that bar. I ran outside, desperate for fresh air, and I heard shouts calling after me.

“YLN!” Prentiss chased me until I stopped to lean against the car, my head in my hands. “Hey, you’re hyperventilating!”

I slowed down my breathing enough to gasp a few words. “The body... a ring... my fault... oh my god, this is my fault!”

Prentiss pried my hands away from my face. “What is happening?”

“The body,” I gasped. “He was my brother... and I know who did this.”

---

The team all gathered at the station. I hadn’t spoken to anyone yet except for Hotch and Prentiss, and after hearing my story, they didn’t have any doubts about who it was either.

Spencer walked into the quiet room the police had given us, looking at me with a worried face. I nodded at him, just to say it was going to be okay.

“Growing up, my father owned a large share of an oil company. When he died when I was very young, he left my mom everything he owned, which was a lot.” I thought back to when Mom first got the call about the car accident. My dad and his mistress were killed on impact. “We moved here to Pagosa Springs, a fresh start. But my mom was so upset about my dad’s death that she started drinking. Excessively.”

I took a deep breath. “She would scream and shout and disappear for days at a time. We’re twins, my brother and I. We were eleven. I was about to graduate high school at a very young age and I didn’t know what to do. When I went off to college for the first few years and stayed with my aunt, my brother would call me every time Mom was off drinking. When he was a teen, he got into drugs and pills and anything he could get his hands on. And I wasn’t there to help him.”

“But Cassie was.” Hotch guessed.

“Yeah, she's the reason my brother got clean. They fell in love and both went to Colorado State together. She gave him a ring to wear whenever he started to have cravings again. One time, Cassie called me when I was at MIT, saying her friend, Bethany, was raped and couldn’t go to the police because her parents would stop paying her tuition for ‘causing a scene’... she said my brother, YBN...” my voice broke for the first time. “She said YBN beat the crap out of Bethany’s rapist. His name is Kenny Rogers, and from what I’ve heard, he was a sketchy dude with a massive temper even back then.” I closed my eyes. “Anyway, that’s most likely who our unsub is.”

“You’re YBN’s sister,” Spencer said. “After having his ego blown massively, Kenny probably carried that hatred for anyone that was related to YBN. And YFN has been in newspapers, articles, even on TV. Something probably caused Kenny to snap recently, his trigger, and he felt the need to hurt YFN somehow to really get back at YBN.”

Hotch called Garcia. “Garcia, we need all addresses on a Kenny Rogers.”

---

Kenny Rogers was guilty. No doubt. When the team went to his place, they found pictures of all the victims and Kenny tried to run whenever they broke down the door.

I stayed behind at the station. I couldn’t trust myself to not shoot Kenny on sight for what he had done.

“Hey, Hotch?” I asked when they got back. “Could I take a few days off? To take care of things...with my brother?”

Hotch gave me a pat on my shoulder. “Take as much time as you need, just let me know when you’re coming back.”

“Of course sir, and thank you.”

I made sure to pull Spencer aside before he left. “Thanks for... um, helping me explain... earlier. I was worried they wouldn’t think it was connected, and you already knew all that stuff about my childhood.”

“Of course, you know I would do anything for you.” Spencer stood there for a minute, then suddenly embraced me tightly in a hug. That wasn’t something he did very often, or at all. “I just...”

I chuckled slightly, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I know, Spencer.”

---

After the team took off on the jet, I checked into the local hotel. It was nice and rustic, homey.

I called Spencer when I had settled in.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked. “The team seems to be getting more and more impressed by you with each case.”

I gave a snort. “Well, that’s a relief. I was scared after my life story they would see me as some kind of kicked puppy. And, I’m okay Spencer. At least, I’m going to be.”

“What will you do about your brother?”

I felt a melancholy smile on my lips, playing with the loose threads on the blanket. “He’s been cremated, and tomorrow I’m scattering his ashes in the mountains. It’s what he always wanted. I hadn’t spoken to him in years, but he always wanted to come back home, and I couldn’t wait to get away.”

Spencer was quiet for a while. “Hey, YFN, I just wanna tell you... you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. You went off to college and still took care of your brother at age twelve, you took a gap year to take care of your sick mom, and in your first few months at the BAU you’ve been able to impress every single team member... and they aren’t easily impressed.”

Happy tears pricked my eyes. “Well, um... that was one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever said to me. And Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you... so much.”

Spencer cleared his throat, like he was debating about saying something. “Um, YFN?”

“What is it?”

His voice lowered, like he didn’t want the team to hear. “In college, I... I was wanting to propose to you.”

My heart seemed to flutter and butterflies pounded in my chest. “Um... you’ve never told me that before. Why didn’t you... do it?”

He thought for a few moments. “Well, you were going to take care of your mom, and I was going to the FBI academy... also, I didn’t think you would say yes.”

“Wow... um, I don’t really know what to say.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

I gave a slight giggle. “You, speechless? I never would’ve guessed.”

Spencer laughed. “Well, goodnight, YFN. I’ll see you soon.”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid

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queenk00k · 4 years

Text

but what if we were pure gold all along? jj maybank (chapter 1)

Summary: After the assumed death of their best friend, the Pogues are falling apart at the seams. With Pope and Kiara getting closer and JJ left with nowhere to go, he finds himself left to his own devices. Feeling lost and rejected, his luck seems to turn when he meets Scarlett - a Kook who doesn’t treat him like shit and has an affinity for partying. JJ gets sucked into her world as she promises to help him forget.

How much longer can he keep running from his demons? And what happens when he starts sharing a bed with one?

Warnings: depictions of violence, child abuse, angst, sexual content, drug use, underage drinking.

Author’s note: Hi all, this is my multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on. My oneshots & Rafe series have taken off so I thought it was time to share this one too. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 1.7K

READ THE PROLOGUE HERE

the one where pogue promises are bullshit

“You mean she can’t hang out with us at all?” JJ asks Pope over cereal late the next morning. It feels almost insulting to John B to be doing something so irritatingly normal but hey, a boy’s gotta eat and he sure as shit won’t be getting breakfast at home.

“Nope. Parents got her on lockdown,” Pope answers solemnly. “They freaked out after the whole running from the cops thing. Not to mention, they’re not keen on Kie ending up like…” Pope trails off as JJ looks up at him sharply.

“They could still be alive man. We don’t know.”

JJ’s sure Pope looks at him with pity as he replies, “Maybe. But I mean, JJ, the Phantom in that storm…Shoupe said it himself, they took an open boat into a tropical depression. I just don’t see how they could still be a-alive.” Pope chokes on the word alive as if it were poison and he sucks in a deep breath as tears fall down his cheeks and JJ can’t take it anymore. He pushes back his chair, the metal legs scraping against the floorboards as JJ rises from the table abruptly.

“I’m going out,” he says as he feels the walls closing in and he just needs to get outside before its too overwhelming and goddamnit he’s sick of crying, will it stop sometime soon?

“JJ-“ Pope starts to rise from his chair but JJ waves a hand at him to sit back down, not looking directly at Pope in case, God forbid, he sees just how broken JJ feels.

“Nah man, it’s fine. I just need some weed. I’ll see you later.”

And with that, JJ makes his way out the front door alone, his feet heavy and his heart heavier still.

JJ’s been staying at Pope’s house for a week now and he can’t help but think he’s the only one struggling. He still hasn’t seen or spoken to Kie who, according to Pope, is still on strict lockdown, and Pope has thrown himself into studying and finding loopholes for other scholarships that would let him interview. This leaves JJ with not much to do but wander aimlessly, not going too far just in case his dad decides to come looking for him.

Pope joins him on the back porch one night where, despite strict orders from Heyward to not get up to any mischief in his house, JJ is surreptitiously pulling on a joint, the smoke curling outwards into the un-seasonally cool evening.

“Mind if I take a hit?”

Lost in his thoughts, JJ jumps at the unexpected interruption. “Shit man, you scared me. Sorry, I know your dad said not to get up to anything but I just feel like garbage and –“

“Nah, I know. I get it. Pass it here,” Pope replies, sitting down next to JJ on the worn steps. JJ passes him the blunt, the corner of his eyes crinkling in a rare smile.

“Coming back to the dark side, are you?” After Pope’s outburst around the time John B and Sarah went missing, he vowed not to get like that again.

Pope coughed as he blew out the smoke. “Ha, no. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

JJ takes the used stub and crushes it under his boot. “Uh oh. That’s never good.”

“It’s fine. More than fine. They’re letting me interview for the scholarship position again.”

“You’re kidding. Bro, that’s awesome,” JJ replies sincerely, clapping his calloused hand on Pope’s shoulder. “I mean it. Good for you. How did you manage to convince them?’

Pope smiles at him. “I told them about John B and Sarah. They figured two friends going missing at sea counted as ‘extenuating circumstances’.”

“Extenuating?”

“Means they agree it was fucked up and they’re letting me off the hook.”

“Hmm. Well, that’s great man.” JJ smiles. “Why did you want to talk to me about it this way?”

Pope sighs. “I’m just preparing you. I’m gonna be pretty busy trying to figure out how to answer their questions. I wanted you to know now so you don’t think I’m trying to ditch you.”

JJ nods solemnly. “I appreciate it. Thanks.”

Pope stares at him for a moment. “Do you think your dad is gonna come looking for you?”

“I don’t think he’ll try anything with your dad around.” JJ scoffs. “I’m pretty sure he was always scared of him.”

Pope nods and before he gets a chance to reply, his phone lights up with a new text and he steals a glance. JJ is sure he looks happy about whatever it was.

“Hey, I gotta head out and pick my dad up. Are you good here?”

“Yeah man, I’ll see you later.”

Pope claps him on the back as he bounds down the steps and in the darkness, leaving JJ alone to battle with his conflicting emotions.

On one hand, he’s overjoyed at the prospect of at least one of them having a decent future, considering his was pretty shot to bits and he had no idea what Kie was thinking, but on the other hand…on the other hand, JJ couldn’t help but feel jealous and a little hurt that Pope had something else to focus on other than the fact that one of his best friends was dead.

JJ remains sitting outside for longer than he realises, contemplating rolling another joint to keep him company and scuffing his boot in the dirt, willing himself to stop feeling so fucking emotional all the time.

After a while, JJ is brought out of his own head a second time as the sound of the front door closing causes him to jerk his head up.

JJ stands and makes his way through the back door, stopping abruptly when he realises he can hear Pope’s parents voices, but not Pope himself.

JJ gets the sinking feeling that Pope was lying to him, and he edges forward to make out what the hushed voices were arguing about.

“….and the longer he’s here, the more danger we’re putting our son in.”

“What do you suggest we do then? You know we can’t let him go back home. That boat was his father’s and I know what Luke is capable of. I’m worried for the boy.”

“He can’t stay here…”

“Last time I checked, Luke was scared shitless of me and-“

“You’re not 30 anymore baby, and he’s unpredictable - he could have a gun. JJ needs to leave, go into foster care or something, but he’s not staying here whilst we risk our family.”

A loud, resigned sigh. “Fine, I’ll talk to the boy.”

JJ’s heart races and he breathes heavily, nostrils flared and hands curled into fists. He turns slowly towards the back door, opening it quietly, praying that Pope’s parents don’t hear him leaving, their words echoing in his ears.

“…the longer he’s here, the more danger we’re putting our son in.”

“He can’t stay here…”

“…he needs to leave…”

JJ kicks the wheelbarrow as he crosses the yard, out of anger or fear he’s not quite sure, and ignores the searing pain in his foot. He was used to feeling like a burden, so why did this hurt so much? He wanted to be angry at Pope’s family, and he figured he was a little bit, but he also understood. He wouldn’t want to put Pope in any more danger than he already had.

JJ rounds the corner and runs straight into Pope, who has the decency to look a bit ashamed of himself. JJ can’t help himself as he narrows his eyes.

“Picking your dad up, huh? What were you really up to?”

Pope opens his mouth to stammer out a response but before he can come up with another excuse, JJ notices something in the glow of the street light.

JJ curses and moves Pope’s collar to reveal a dark purple bruise. Pope’s eyes widen as he steps back, faltering under JJ’s cool gaze.

“Is that a hickey?” JJ manages to ask through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching. “Have you been sneaking off to see Kiara?” JJ’s angry, sure, but he’s also hurt because why doesn’t Kiara want to see him and why is Pope lying to him and why does nobody want him?

Pope clears his throat. “I’m sorry man, we’ve just started going out and she needs me and-“

“You’re going out now?”

“I mean yeah, she did kiss me and everything and it just kind of escalated from there-“

“And what about ‘she needs me?’ What about me, bro? What happened to us Pogues sticking together?”

“JJ, I’m sorry man, Kie’s parents don’t want her seeing you and I don’t want her getting into any more trouble-“

JJ interrupts again as he shoves Pope away from him, his blue eyes icy as he struggles to contain his anger. “Yeah man, whatever, I get it.”

JJ stalks past Pope, muttering “unbelievable” under his breath and heading straight for his bike.

“JJ, please,” Pope starts but JJ holds up a hand to silence him, as he hops on his bike and speeds away without looking back.

Pogues don’t leave each other behind, huh? Bullshit, he thinks as he speeds away.

JJ finds his way to The Chateau without even thinking, almost as if muscle memory brought him here. He stops his bike out front and heads inside, smiling tersely at the fondness he feels for the place. When his own home wasn’t safe enough, which was often, he felt most at home here with his friends, stealing food from John B and crashing on the futon after keggers.

His throat burns at the thought of John B, at the thought of the Pogues, at the thought of the fact that Pope’s been screwing Kiara and lying to him about it and why the hell is that their priority right now?

JJ walks slowly down the hallway, noticing how the place has been completely trashed and stripped bare thanks to those square groupers and now the cops. God, all of that seems like centuries ago. How did they manage to end up here?

JJ barely makes it to the back of the house before a familiar voice makes him stop in his tracks and his blood run cold.

“Boy, if you’re in here I swear to God I’m going to kill you!”

JJ gulps.

Looks like dad came looking for me after all.

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#jj maybank #outer banks #obx #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fanfiction #pope heyward #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx fanfic #obx fanfiction #jj outer banks

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marjansmarwani · 4 years

Text

Secret Smiles

[Ao3 Link]

Characters: Paul Strickland & TK Strand

Word Count: 2203

Paul knows TK is hiding something. He even knows that it has to do with a mystery man he's seeing, but he cannot figure it out past that. Until a night at a bar when a certain officer of the law shows up, that it.

This one was taken from one of @lauraperfectinsanity‘s Tarlos prompts (it’s number 2). I changed it a bit, but I think it’s still pretty close to the spirit of the thing, which was Paul figuring out that TK is secretly seeing Carlos.

------

Paul hated not knowing things.

Knowing things was kind of, well, his thing. Often it meant situations; who did what and what caused that. Sometimes it was just simply facts – he can’t help that he was a voracious reader with a memory like a steel trap. But it also meant people, and his friends and teammates were certainly included in that.

When he first started at the 126, Paul had been on his guard. Each of his new teammates had been subject to his own threat assessment. His brother had always chided him for it – telling him he needed to have more faith in people. But faith in people could get you hurt, so Paul instead chose to be strategic. He decided who it was safe to share information with and how much detail each person could be entrusted with.

It wasn’t easy, but it had kept him safe.

So, he examined and observed each member of his new crew in turn. Captain Strand and TK had been first, and he began his analysis the moment he entered the room for his interview. He quickly deduced that the Captain was sincere, that he harbored Paul no ill-will. TK was quiet during the interview, but when he mentioned identifying the people who wanted to hurt him before they did, he noticed a small smile that spoke of understanding and comradery. Paul allowed himself to relax – neither of these men were a threat to him. In fact, TK Strand might just be a kindred spirit – someone else who had faced hate because of who they were. In the end, it’s a large part of the reason he accepts the Captain’s offer – he knows that he will have allies in this journey; he won’t have to fight this particular battle alone.

The rest of the crew is easy to read, and soon he feels comfortable; at home. Within the walls of the firehouse things are safe, he can let his guard down. Not that there is too much to analyze anyways. The general rule is openness: they’re a family, they tell each other things.

Which is why he almost doesn’t realize TK is hiding something, at first. He’s not sure exactly when he notices but once he does, he picks up little hints everywhere. Maybe it was the first time he heard him abruptly change the subject. Or the time he noticed that the tale he told Judd about how he had spent his night off and what he told Marjan were slightly different. There were small inconsistencies in the details. In Paul’s experience, that usually meant it was a lie.

First, Paul is concerned. He can’t help but wonder if TK is in some sort of trouble, if there is something wrong that he doesn’t want to share with the rest of the team. So he watches, looking for signs of trouble and quickly comes to a very different conclusion: TK has a secret boyfriend.

It’s glaringly obvious once he knows to look for the signs: secretive texting under the table, small smiles when he checks his phone, late-night phone calls when he thinks everyone else is asleep. All the times that he disappears when they go out as a group, or when he makes excuses and doesn’t come out at all – especially when he is far too tired the next day to have actually gone home to sleep as he claims to have done.

He has a secret boyfriend, that part is obvious. What’s not obvious is why this is a secret. TK doesn’t generally come off as a secretive person. He knows it’s not an issue about coming out – TK is very open about his sexuality. Maybe the other man is not fully out? Maybe it’s someone TK feels like he shouldn’t be dating (Paul can’t imagine why that would even be a thing, but stranger things have happened, he supposed).

It wasn’t until a few weeks later and a conversation in the gym that Paul finally got an answer. He was stressed and anxious and feeling very out of his comfort zone with this whole Josie thing, and he hadn’t meant to snap at TK. But he was frustrated, and he took it out on his friend – his friend who was being a hypocrite because he was seeing someone and not shouting to the world about it yet here he was lecturing Paul about taking risks, about putting himself out there. He snaps out the jab about what TK would know about rejection without even thinking. He regrets it instantly – it wasn’t fair. He didn’t know what TK’s experience with coming out was. He didn’t know anything about his history. But it’s out there and he can’t take it back.

TK’s answer, when it came, surprised him. He sat up and fiddled with his necklace as he spoke, “116 days ago, when I asked my soul mate to marry me and he moved in with his trainer instead.”

Paul froze, for just a moment. He wasn’t even sure how to respond to that, how to acknowledge the level of vulnerability TK had just shown. “That’s rough,” he settled on, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” TK agreed grimly, “that was not my best day.”

The conversation moved on and TK gave him some surprisingly sage advice. Paul took that advice, but he also took some answers. One: TK had been burned by love and was probably hesitant about diving back in. Two: there was more to the story than he had shared. The fact that he knew exactly how many days it had been showed that in spades. Maybe, Paul reasoned, TK didn’t want to share this relationship because he was scared. Maybe he wasn’t ready to take that step, to make things official. Given what he had just learned – and what he assumed, Paul couldn’t blame him.

That didn’t mean that he stopped trying to solve the mystery anyways. Partly because it was just what he did, and partly because TK was his friend and he wanted to make sure that whoever this mystery man was, they were not someone who was going to break TK’s too big heart again. He was more subtle about it – never asking any blunt questions or drawing conclusions. He simply watches and observes.

He’s watching one night when they are all at the bar and Officer Reyes meets them at Michelle’s insistence. He almost doesn’t notice at first. They are good at hiding it – far too practiced in the art of not drawing attention to their closeness. But there are still tells, little, unconscious things that they do. The things they probably can’t even help. The private glances when someone makes a joke, the small smiles. The hands that linger when they cross paths – the fact that they cross paths more often than is strictly necessary. It’s almost as if there is a magnetic pull between them and they are unable to stay more than an arm’s length apart. As he watches, TK crosses to the bar for another round, slipping behind Carlos, laying a hand on his hip as he passes. Carlos glances over his shoulder at him and gives him a smile that is far from casual.

Oh. Oh.

The realization hits him suddenly. He takes a sudden sharp intake of breath and somehow TK hears and turns towards him. Their eyes meet and Paul can tell that TK knows he knows. His eyes widen in panic and he slips away, heading not for the bar, but to the door. Paul sets his glass down, makes an excuse he doesn’t think anyone even hears and follows him. He finds him outside leaning on the railing of the porch, hands clasping the railing so tightly his knuckles shine white in the dim lighting. He comes to a stop next to his friend and waits for the other man to speak.

“You know,” TK says lowly, bluntly.

Paul nods, “Just figured it out.”

He waits, but TK doesn’t say any more, so he continues, “Is there a reason you don’t want anyone to know?”

TK sighs, releasing one hand from the railing to run it down his face anxiously, “No, not really,” he says uncertainly. “It’s not like we're not both single and out. Christ, we don’t even work together – there is no actual reason to keep it a secret.”

“Then why do you?”

“I don’t know.”

Paul scoffs, “Yeah, you do.”

TK glares at him and Paul raises an eyebrow. TK rolls his eyes but concedes his point, “Okay fine, I do.”

Paul waits, allowing TK the time he needs to gather his thoughts. The sounds from the bar drift through the windows, fighting for dominance with the sound of the crickets surrounding them. When TK’s voice breaks the silence, it nearly startles Paul.

“You remember how I mentioned that my last relationship ended badly, right?”

Paul made a sound of affirmation and TK continued, “I just…I wasn’t ready to jump into another relationship so soon. I was pretty sure I was never going to be ready to jump into another relationship again, actually. This thing, with Carlos, started as a hookup. I figured it would be a one-night stand, we’d both burn up some energy and frustration and move on, but he was stubborn. He wanted more and he pushed. I tried to resist, tried to stay away, but I couldn’t. Now, here we are – and I’m even sure where exactly here is.”

Paul studied his friend. His expression was tense, but even in just speaking about Carlos, his body language had relaxed. He may claim that he didn’t know what they were, but Paul would put good money on how exactly TK felt for the officer.

“Is that why you didn’t tell anyone?” he asked instead.

TK nodded, “I don’t really know what to tell, but there is also this part of me that just feels like once it’s out there – once it is no longer ours – I won’t have control of it anymore, and I won’t be able to deny what it is. I’m just…not sure I’m ready for that yet.”

Paul took a step closer and leaned on the railing next to TK. He chose his next words carefully, “I’m not going to tell you what to do or what to feel, but from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re already there, and I think that’s a good thing. You seem lighter when he’s around, even when you’re just talking about him. You care about him and if I had to make a bet, I’d bet he cares about you to. So, I’m not going to say you have to make a big announcement or anything, but maybe just keep that in mind. Maybe start letting go of the reins, just a bit and see what happens.”

TK turned to face him and raised an eyebrow, “is there where you tell me something about nothing that is important is without risk or something?”

Paul scoffed, “Nah man, I don’t do clichés.”

TK laughed lightly, and Paul continued, “I’m just saying, maybe see where this goes. I don’t know Officer Reyes that well, but I don’t think he’s a bad guy and I know he doesn’t want to hurt you. It’s going to be scary, but maybe let it play out. Besides, if the worst does happen, you have people to lean on.”

It was quiet for a long moment before TK responded; his voice soft, “That was good advice.”

Paul nodded seriously, “I don’t do subpar advice. Besides, I owe you. You helped me out with the Josie thing, and that’s what family does, right? Look out for each other.”

TK turned again, a soft smile on his lips, “Yeah, I guess it does.”

They stood in companionable silence for a few more minutes before Paul spoke again, “So, do we wait and go in at separate times, or do we go in together? I’m new to this whole clandestine relationship stuff. I am not familiar with this life of intrigue and secrets you’ve been leading.”

TK rolled his eyes, “Stop exaggerating, we don’t need to hide anything. If people draw conclusions well, maybe a conclusion needed to be made.”

Paul raised an eyebrow at the implications, “are you saying you’re going to come clean? Tonight?” he shook his head, “Man, I know my advice is good, but I didn’t think it was that good.”

“I’m saying,” TK said over him, “that maybe I should be a little more open. I feel bad lying to family, after all.”

“Do I get to say told you so?”

“You do not.”

Paul shrugged, “I’m going to anyway.”

TK shook his head and patted his shoulder before heading back into the bar. Paul smiled, and followed suit.

If for the rest of the night he noticed TK standing closer to Carlos, leaning into his space, giving him wide and open smiles, he said nothing. If the others started to notice as well and raised eyebrows before asking outright questions, that was really none of his business. He was content to quietly sip his drink and watch everything play out around him. When TK shot him a grateful smile as he grasped Carlos’s hand, he returned it.

Paul hated not knowing things. And this, this was a good thing to know.

Like it? Come leave a comment on Ao3!

#911 Lone Star #paul strickland #tk strand #tarlos #911 lone star fanfic #my writing #prompt fill

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the-mad-starker · 5 years

Text

Starker RP: Eight Stops (to Make You Mine)

Another RP turned fic with @starkerkeyz

Mads💗: Finally. The chikan fic I've always wanted 😭💗 I have nothing else to say besides 😏

Keyz 💖: Somehow I’d gone this long without writing a train scene like this? 😭 It was so fun, definitely going to ask Mads to do another where Tony gets felt up! 💖

WC: 9437 (AO3 Link)

Note: NSFW moodboard included in Ao3 link. Tiny lil gif but fair warning.

Warnings: ABO dynamics, semi-public/public sex, rutting on a subway, knotting on a subway, mostly anonymous sex, chikan, intersex omegas, vaginal sex, creampie

💗 💗 💗

Tony watches the subway doors open and close with only passing focus. He’s riding to clear his head while he thinks of a problem (several problems at once actually) and can’t be bothered to devote real brain power to whatever early morning commuters are shuffling on and off.

The usual announcement comes on before the subway doors close.

Peter comes in with the crowd and sees that all the seats are taken which isn't surprising since it's early morning rush. He has an interview in roughly two hours and he knows that mass transit can be finicky.

He places himself smack in the middle of the car to avoid the rush of people coming and going near the doors. He grips the subway pole in front of him lightly, while his other hand holds onto a second-hand briefcase at his side.

He smells a handful of alphas and omegas, all seem to be preoccupied on their phones except for one.

This new batch brings with it the ripe smell of a sweet young omega and Tony’s head turns, nose pinpointing the source before he's fully aware of where he's going. He finds himself behind a young brunette man dressed in a casual business suit and smelling so divine that Tony wants to bury his nose in his neck and bite him, right here, right now.

‘Must be coming off a heat.’ Tony tries not to think about the possibilities of the omega’s biology going in the opposite direction. If he's days away from going into heat, then he's hot and fertile now and Tony’s alpha cock yearns to bury itself in his sweet pussy.

Peter isn't surprised when that particular alpha makes a beeline for him either. Considering what he smells like, he's not surprised at all.

Even so, the omega braces himself for the moment the alpha comes to him. Peter's ready to move out of the way, a rather clear rejection when he catches the alpha's scent. There's something about it that makes Peter wait for him, some subtle hint of sensuality that catches his attention.

Tony knows it’s a little rude to reach out and grip the kid by the back of the neck without even checking in, but he follows it up with a traditional kiss and nuzzle of his scent gland. Then, he starts gently stroking the omega’s spine with his thumb.

The omega shivers from the touch, still on the fence about letting this happen. He's turned down several alphas from his first train ride but hmm… maybe… He does have time to waste and he has a couple of scent neutralizers in his bag.

A little fun couldn't hurt, right? Then–

“Hello, sweet thing,” Tony husks.

He presses his free hand in low to the omega’s back, a heavy weight promising more if the stranger reciprocates.

The alpha sounds remarkably like Peter's celebrity crush and that seals the deal. He can spare some time.

Peter doesn't want to break the illusion of who he has in mind so he continues to look straight ahead, out the window of the train as it rushes through the tunnels.

"Alpha," he tilts his head a bit, offering his neck in acceptance.

At the same time, he leans back into the alpha's body, brushing against the firm wall of his body. He's trying to get a good idea of what the alpha looks like without actually looking. So far, he likes what he's finding out.

The man is taller than him but not by much. He feels sturdy and solid, maybe someone who works out? Peter licks his lips, his body more than eager for some play, especially since it's so close to that time…

Tony growls in appreciation and makes sure to press the sound against the omega's neck. He drops his hand from the man's tailbone to his ass, rubbing and squeezing with a sigh.

Peter gives a soft little sigh of his own. The alpha's hand feels strong and so sure. Confidence is damn sexy and Peter's enjoying how this alpha is handling him.

The people around them shift and settle but nobody bats an eye. There's a couple of glances thrown their way but for the most part, no one's really paying much attention. Even if it isn't normal for Peter, it's normal for omegas to give it up to alphas like this. Just a way to let off steam between the secondary genders.

Some of the other omegas or alphas that Peter smelled earlier are probably observing, but this kinda thing tends to be treated as an out of sight, out of mind kind of thing.

Tony grips the nape of the omega's neck harder and bends him gently forward, arching him slowly so that lovely ass presses close and intimate to the growing bulge of his excited alpha cock. He holds him tight enough that his bulge disappears between lithe omega legs, rubbing up against a hot little pussy.

An omega's nape is the easiest way to make an omega soft and pliant to an alpha's touch. So while Peter might be more than an average omega, those same instincts still hold true for him. It's how this alpha gets him to be so malleable, bending and moving in whichever direction the alpha pleases.

It helps that the alpha is rather vocal too, stroking his pride as an omega, a good omega… It only makes Peter all the more eager to be the kind of omega the alpha wants.

"Fuck, you present so nicely, omega…" Tony could imagine using this little omega businessman like a cocksleeve for every train ride. It would certainly get Tony to use community transit more. He thrusts upwards, cockhead nudging against the folds of the omega's pussy.

"If you think this is nice, you should see me with my clothes off," Peter teases.

He reaches between his legs, palming the nice, thick alpha cock rubbing against his pussy. His fingers curl around the length of it, measures the girth, and his mouth goes dry. This guy would split him apart if Peter can even take him.

“I’d love to see that, actually.” Tony growls softly in answer. He rubs into the omega's touch eagerly and tugs on his nape approvingly. He loves it when he's touched back by his partners. He loves it when they tease back with him, too.

He's capable of taking charge and getting off without it but having that participation makes it that little bit sweeter when his partners cream their underwear.

It's too bad they're on a train. Too bad that Peter wouldn't miss his interview, not even for this alpha. He'd just have to make it good for him, give the guy something worth remembering. Maybe he'd even bump into him again during his commute.

Between his legs, he's starting to slick up. His body already feels hot from how the alpha's been pressing up against him, touching him, and heating him up from the inside. If the alpha keeps rubbing against him like this, there's no doubt in Peter's mind that everyone will smell it, even the betas.

Peter presses back against him eagerly, grinding his round ass against the man's hips.

"My name is Tony." Tony slides his hand off the omega's pert ass. He reaches around and plants his hand flat to the guy's surprisingly rigid stomach, feeling something much stiffer and definitely not skin below the outer layer of clothing.

He raises a brow but doesn't question it, just uses the new hold to anchor the omega in place when his hips snap forward, dry humping his thick cock into the omega's pussy with practiced ease. It's been a while since he's done this; in public or with an omega. His body remembers. It's so easy to move so his fat alpha cock strokes against all his temporary lover's sweet spots.

"Tony…" Pete gives the name a try, exhales it on a breathless sigh. He likes the way it feels on his tongue.

He enjoys the moment, the slow rocking of the train and the rocking of the alpha behind him. He's enjoying the hot press of the alpha's cock against him more though.

"You're going to feel so good on my cock, baby." Tony praises him. He squeezes the guy's nape and rolls his hips like sin, winking at a man that looks with longing at the performance from across the way.

Tony loves showing off how well he could handle his lovers in public like this. Seeing the jealousy and envy only makes his cock swell bigger and heavier against the guy's pussy.

Peter shivers at the whispered words. Heat pools in his belly, arousal and need building with every thrust. His thighs tighten too, soft flesh hugging the alpha's cock in a tighter grip.

"Peter–" he says with a moan, "But ah– Baby sounds so nice when you say it like that."

He moves against the alpha, wanting to get in on the action. His hand presses Tony's cock right against his pussy and he's squirming in place.

“Peter, baby,” Tony flexes his arm, holding the younger omega close as he grinds into the hand and pussy petting him so nicely. His hand massages Peter’s nape. “Your pussy feels so good. They all know it, too.”

A glance around has Peter's cheeks heating up. There's people watching. They're trying to be discreet about it but there's no mistaking the darting glances they make when Peter's gaze passes over them.

That's fine. They're not doing anything wrong.

As if in retaliation to those wandering eyes, Peter leans back against the alpha, neck bared and showing off the rather prominent bulge pushing between his legs.

Tony lets go of Peter’s neck to support him leaning back, letting him put himself on display. He growls approvingly and reaches down from Peter’s stomach, rubbing at the hot tented front to his pants. He squeezes, the rough veins of his forearms bulging with promised potential. He wants to lift this omega up and fuck him standing, right in front of the peeping toms intruding on their moment.

"Too bad we can't test that right here…" Peter murmurs, turning his head to nip the guy's jaw. Coarse bristles of a beard tickle against his cheek and lips. Peter only gets even slicker between his legs.

“If you stay good and quiet, we could test it right here.” Tony murmurs back.

He nibbles along Peter’s neck and thrusts upwards, rolling the slighter man up onto his toes. He fucks into him again, holding him in place this time with a flex of his arm. They’re grinding so close and tight, it almost feels like he could force himself inside, tearing right through all their clothing.

“I want to, sweetheart. If you’re up for a little game.”

Tony drags his cock against Peter’s pussy, slow and dirty. He bites into the omega’s offered scent gland, hearing someone gasp softly in the background from the indecency. Tony can rub his cock against Peter’s pussy and ass, going up and down the subway line, and it’s fine; but biting a stranger here is obscene.

Peter gasps, too, but it's a sound of delight, of breathless anticipation. He considers this stranger's request, fingers running up and down the thrusting cock's length.

He may have time before his interview but his stop is only a couple away. If he wants to be the responsible omega he normally is, he'd have to decline. As much as it would suck, a knot would take time he doesn't have to give.

His lips part as his eyes slip shut, delaying the rejection he knows he's going to regret.

When someone makes a sound suspiciously like a throat clearing, Tony lets loose a deep and guttural alpha growl of disapproval. He lets go of Peter's neck to let it rumble tellingly past long fangs, causing the other passengers to freeze instinctively.

He's done playing. This omega is his to mount and break in if he so pleases and everyone else can look the fuck away, now, or there'll be hell to pay.

Peter can feel the deep growl reverberate against his back and the words he needs to say die on the tip of his tongue. He's dripping through his clothes now and his pussy throbs at the audacity this alpha has.

He's damn serious about actually fucking Peter in a crowded train while they're speeding through Manhattan. It's all fun and games to whisper about wanting someone so much and what they would want to do to each other, but turning those fantasies into actual reality…?

Peter gives it some serious thought now that he knows the alpha would actually do it. Fuck him, right here.

It makes him feel dirty and so naughty to even consider it. This isn't going to be some quick and harmless fun. This alpha is going to wreck him, leave his pussy fucked open and dripping with his seed… If Peter lets him.

He clutches onto the alpha's forearm and gives Tony another nip, harsher with his spiked up desires.

"Eight stops," he tells the alpha, "that's all the time we got. Think that's enough…?"

They can only have a quickie but Peter thinks it just might be the best sex he's ever going to get. He gives the alpha's cock another squeeze, trying to convince him to say yes.

"Plenty." Tony unbuckles Peter's pants one handed, smirking against pale skin. He rubs his stubble into the omega's lightly bitten scent gland just to rile him up. He kisses tenderly, masking the filth of his words in the romance of the gesture. "If I could take you home, I'd knot you properly, baby. Fuck you open and begging on me."

The subway pulls up to another stop and they sway along with the motion as it comes to a halt. More people board, bodies shifting around to accommodate the influx. It isn't so suspicious now that they're pressed so close, but Peter's sure everyone knows anyway, if not by sight then by scent.

That doesn't matter to him.

Tony pulls the omega's pants and underwear down in the back. There's a rush of red and black that flows after the clothing, so quickly that it might've been an illusion if it wasn't for the light glinting off of whatever material it was.

Tony pauses briefly- what was that color just now? He squints after it, trying to track whatever had just been flashing in the dim light.

He's distracted by the smell of omega slick and he can't resist slipping a hand between slender thighs, pressing into the slick folds his cock's been teasing mercilessly for the last few minutes.

Just like that he's redirected.

"You're so ready for me, baby. Ready to take me without any prep?" His fingers slide in, testing. They glide deep; easy as sin. Peter's so wet that Tony's making a mess just exploring him. It makes his alpha cock throb at him to get inside faster.

"What do you think…?" Peter gasps out, breathless and legs trembling.

He widens his stance, feet shifting apart to give the alpha more accessibility. His hips jerk at the penetration and has to choke down a moan. He rocks gently against the fingers pushing into him… Nice, thick digits that he knows are no comparison for the nice, thick cock this alpha is packing.

His enhanced hearing picks up the soft, slick sounds as Tony plays with his pussy. His face flushes with heat, eyes slipping shut, and lips parting in a silent moan.

"Undo my pants and then brace yourself." Tony fucks his fingers in knuckle deep as he speaks. He's reluctant to leave Peter's heat now that he's got a part of himself buried inside the cute omega.

"Oh…" It comes out on a trembling breath.

Heavy eyelids lift to reveal glazed over honey eyes. One blink, two, and the fog clears, at least enough for Peter to do as he's told.

Peter gives the alpha cock another loving squeeze before he reaches behind him. He's never done this before, especially not like this, but his fingers make quick work of the older man's belt. He clumsily drags the man's underwear down until he feels the hot press of the alpha's bare cock against his ass.

Tony has to resist the urge to give that cute little ass a spank when he feels his dick rubbing against it so nicely. They’ve got to be quiet; what they’re doing could get them both arrested.

He rubs at Peter’s ass instead. He pushes the omega’s cheeks together to hold his cock for a moment and marvels at how promisingly sexy it looks.

Peter braces himself against the subway pole. Like this, his suit jacket is just long enough that it hides the fact that his pants have been pulled down just a bit. As an extra precaution, he tries to position his briefcase in front of his body, but he probably won't pay too much attention to keep that up. He tosses his head back and gives the alpha a devil may care grin when he's set.

"Ready for you, alpha," he purrs, arching his back in such an obscene matter. "Show me what you got."

He's provoking Tony on purpose, wants to see just what this man is capable of.

Tony growls softly from the challenge and grins back wolfishly. He dips his hips, angling his dick to slide across Peter’s skin and drag against his rim. He shoves forward, slow and relentless. His wide cockhead pushes through Peter’s soaked folds and then nudges against his omegan opening. It takes no force at all to breach him and start sinking in, one thick alpha inch at a time.

Even though Peter knows and has braced himself for it, that initial penetration is still a shock. His breath stutters in his chest as the alpha's cock works its way inside him.

The problem is that it keeps on coming. The vague estimation of length and girth does nothing to prepare him for reality. Just when he thinks that's it, he's taken the entire thing, there's more.

Tony runs his hands over Peter’s back, rubbing up and down his spine gently. His cock is too big to just shove in. No matter what his instincts were screaming at him when his omega squirms so pretty from the first half.

Peter’s eyelashes flutter and his knuckles turn white on the pole. He even fights it for a moment, a subconscious move, as his hips nudge forward, pressing him against cool metal and moving his weight onto his toes.

Tony growls and sets his teeth to his omega’s nape. One hand holds Peter at his stomach. The other rubs circles into his lower back, pinning him between his hands so he couldn’t get away.

Nowhere to go. His pussy is forced to take every inch and when their hips are snug tight, Peter shudders in ecstasy.

He feels speared open, his pussy stuffed so full that maybe even his slick can't make its way out.

“Gonna fuck you silly, omega.” Tony breathes out against teeth warmed skin.

His body clenches down hard. Peter's already halfway there just from the teasing and now this so he knows the alpha can deliver.

Fuck...

Tony feels, suddenly, the person to his left shift enough that their elbows knock together and a quiet ‘excuse me’ follows. He brightens his expression in a flash and gives them a winning smile, hands landing on Peter’s hips to keep him close and snug and stuffed full.

“No problem. It’s a tight fit.”

Peter breathes through the penetration and gives a breathless laugh. When he's become accustomed to the sheer size of the alpha's cock, he squirms. It's the only thing he can do, shifting his weight from foot to foot to feel the hard length rub against his tender insides.

Even that… fuck… even that feels incredible.

He wants the alpha's attention back on him.

"Alpha…" he says, voice soft, a hint of a moan.

The train rocks them as it moves but he exaggerates the motion so he can get the friction he wants. Even with the alpha's grip tight on his hips, it gives him the chance to push back when a few precious inches drag out of him.

Tony pulls his omega back onto his cock, reclaiming the inches Peter stole with a solid thud of their pelvises meeting. The meaty slap is covered up by the crowd of commuters hemming in their rutting. There are more people shifting and shuffling all around them every stop, pushing them together just from the sheer amount and pressure of bodies.

“Feel good, omega? Feels nice to get my cock in you, huh?” Tony hooks his chin over the other's shoulder to breathe his questions along his neck and ear. His hands move back to Peter’s stomach and one on his hip, holding him in place.

Peter doesn't reply, not verbally anyway. He lets his body do all the talking, using one hand to clinging onto the pole while the other clutches the alpha's forearm.

His pussy tightens and releases, squeezing along the thick length and encouraging the alpha to move. He tries to pull the same stunt as before, but their hips are pressed snug and he has nowhere to move. Tony's the one that has to start moving if Peter is to get any satisfaction.

“Mm. Such a good omega for me, Peter.”

Tony kisses him on the scent gland. He pulls his cock back, hidden from the crowd by their clothing and the crowd itself, and then slowly feeds it back inside. He goes so slowly it’s more like rubbing than thrusting, easing himself in and out of the omega’s slick passage with practiced delicacy; massaging Peter’s pussy walls with each methodical grind of his cock deep inside.

"Alpha…" Peter lets out the softest plea, so close to a moan that it's embarrassing. But he has no choice besides forcefully pushing the bigger alpha away and he doesn't want to do that.

Some part of him actually likes this, pretending to be the helpless omega he knows he isn't and leaving his pleasure in another's hands.

He presses the alpha's hand down over his belly and swears he could feel him there.

“Can you feel me? Spreading you open on my cock so easy, baby. You’re doing so well.” His hand presses down on Peter’s belly, holding him close and intimate, hips still following that same maddening slow glide.

"So big…" Peter murmurs raggedly. He trembles at the words of praise, that undeniably omegan part of him preening from it. "Alpha… Can feel you here…"

And God, it's true… He feels like the alpha's cock has to be right there, cockhead nudging the entrance to his womb. The very thought gives Peter's instincts a kick start, especially since he's so close to a heat.

They’re pushed together from shoulder to knees by the crowds and Tony loves being able to blanket the other with his body. His alpha cock drags along slick insides; slow, thorough, and deep.

Peter's entire body shudders before he locks it in position. He clamps down the growing need, gritting his teeth together as the alpha takes his body on a test run.

The maddening speed makes sense for where they are but somehow, Peter still feels like it's not enough. He wants to be a good omega and let the alpha savor this but he also wants to get fucked and he wants it hard enough that he feels his bones shaking in his body.

Tony growls against Peter’s neck, skittering heat searing its way up his spine with every push and pull. Peter’s pussy is sucking him in so well, holding onto him so tightly when he retreats. It’s making him want to plug the omega full of his alpha cum.

He parts his lips against Peter’s skin, flicking his tongue against him teasingly. His cock sinks in and out with almost hypnotic smoothness and ease.

Tony wishes he could watch himself stuff Peter’s pussy full to bursting.

Every slow drag teases at Peter’s ability to be good. He feels every inch bury itself inside his body and every single inch as it withdraws. It leaves him biting down on his bottom lip to stop the whimpers from spilling out of it.

Then the alpha presses into him again, pushing that hard, thick cock inside until he squeezes out the very breath in Peter's lungs. And he goes to repeat it again, Peter's vision swims because he can't take it.

"Al–pha…" Peter breathes. His clutches onto Tony's arm, hips jerking in his tight grasp in a half-hearted attempt.

“Yes, omega?” Tony rubs his fangs against Peter’s skin at the same slow pace his cock rubbed in and out of his pussy.

"Harder–" he murmurs softly, quietly.

He's so focused on the cock inside him that he's not sure he even said the words loud enough for Tony to hear. He makes sure this time, he hears him.

"Alpha…" the omega groans, "Please– H-harder. I can feel it… But I need– Alpha, please… Fuck my pussy harder… You're…"

He whimpers then, pushing back against the alpha's hold to chase after his retreating cock.

"'M so wet… Can't you feel it… alpha…?" Peter licks his lips, breath shallow with need. "Need alpha's cock inside me… Fucking me… Need it in my pussy, alpha…"

Tony pulls back and thrusts in without warning; then goes right into fucking him hard, timing it to the swaying and lurching of the train.

"God. Baby, Peter, fuck, you just love taking it." Tony pants behind Peter's ear. He can't help the little snarls curling outwards from his chest, vibrating upwards in a bloom of pure alpha claim.

He jerks his hips faster and tighter as his excitement grows, quick rabbit thrusts, brutal enough to slam Peter into the pole he’s braced on. Any slick noises are eaten by the susurration of the crowd.

Tony’s cock feels like he’s fucking into heaven; tight heat and wet slick and a sinful ass bouncing in his lap before work.

"A-Ah…" Peter has been trying so hard to keep quiet, but by then, even he can't stop himself from moaning. And really… it isn't that suspicious. They're obviously rutting, alpha and omega pulled together and having some fun.

Most of the newcomers don't realize how far they've gone.

He's letting out breathless little gasps, just doing what he can to let the alpha get it. He normally hates how bumpy and terrible the subway ride is going into the city but right now, he's loving it.

“That’s right, baby. Let me hear you. Just me; just keep making those soft little whimpers for me, Peter. You’re my omega right now. And my omega is doing so well for me.” Tony praises him with his teeth against Peter’s mating gland. His hand holds him steady at his hip, pinned where Tony wants him.

The alpha's grip on him is bruisingly tight, it needs to be with how one wrong lurch of the train can dislodge him. Neither of them wants that so Peter holds still, legs tense, pussy dripping, and mouth slack as he's being fucked right there.

Tony wants to cum so deep inside, Peter doesn’t even drip. He wants to breed him. Claim him. Own him.

“Omega…” Tony grunts and thrusts harder, the base of his cock getting tight. If only they could.

That tone is Peter's only warning. He digs his nails into the alpha's arm.

How many stops have passed? He's lost count. But even though he's the one that agreed to this as long as it's a quickie, he doesn't want it to end just yet. He's finally getting what he wants, a nice hard fuck and he knows the alpha won't stop until Peter's more than satisfied.

He digs in deeper, tossing his head back and shaking it almost desperately.

"Not yet, not yet…" he almost begs. Just wants that alpha cock pounding him open just a little bit longer.

Tony set his lips to Peter’s neck, teeth grit to avoid biting. His balls are heavy and drawing up tight despite Peter’s delicious chanting in his ear. He’s going to cum in this omega and send him on his way dripping with it.

Of course, that's when the train comes to a halt. The doors don't open.

At the lack of movement, some people come alive around them, lifting their heads when they've realized the train has stopped.

Tony comes to a complete halt with an act of willpower he should be applauded for. He growls softly and unhooks his head from Peter’s shoulder, waiting to see what was going on.

He puts a little space between his chest and Peter’s back and keeps their lower bodies as still as possible for the appearance of propriety. Buried balls deep inside of Peter’s pussy, his cock aches at him, throbbing and pulsing with the need to keep going.

"Alpha–" Peter groans, upset at the sudden stop. His squirming begins anew but then he freezes when he realizes everything has stopped.

The intercom turns on.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcement comes on, "we are delayed because of train traffic ahead of us. We apologize for any inconvenience. Thank you for your patience."

Peter's groan is drowned out by the surrounding passengers' sounds of dismay.

“Party’s on pause, sweetheart.” Tony murmurs under his breath.

Peter leans his head on the back of his hand. He's obviously displeased by the entire thing but it gives him a moment to collect himself. Breathe in deep breaths and cool off.

Tony lets out his own sigh of dismay along with the stirring buzz around them. His balls are tight and ready to fill Peter up. The base of his cock feels swollen and tender, ready to pop a knot at any moment if he could just move.

“Shouldn’t trust the subway. Only good thing it’s brought me was you,” Tony says, hand creeping up to slide along Peter’s sides and chest. Not as good over the clothing but Tony could appreciate this while inadvertently getting his cock warmed.

The omega sighs and relaxes into the touch. He likes this simple affection but he could still feel the alpha inside him. He can't relax or calm down, not like this… The man hasn't softened at all and it's a whole different kind of dirty he's feeling now that he accesses the situation.

He's… he's letting an alpha stay inside him… deceiving the other passengers who think they're just rubbing against each other. His body ends up tightening down on the alpha's cock and his head hangs, eyes peeking where their hands are pressed over his belly.

Tony brightens with an idea.

“Do you have an undershirt? Can you unbutton and let me play with your nipples, just while we’re stuck?”

Proper rules of society allow an alpha to play with an omega’s body so long as it's covered and no penetration is involved. If Peter’s shirt is thin enough, Tony could pluck and strum his nipples and not even have to hide it.

For some reason, this makes Peter feel a bit shy. Maybe it's because they've already come so far that adding more to it seems even more obscene. This one request is actually something Tony's allowed to do though and Peter can feel his nipples already start to pebble up beneath his shirt at the possibility.

He also knows that he'll become a needy little thing once Tony starts playing with them… They've always been a bit sensitive and with everything else going on, he's not sure how well he'll be able to handle having those played with, too.

"Might be a bit sensitive," he says as he starts to unbutton his button-up. It takes him longer than usual, an understandable delay since he keeps getting distracted by the alpha's cock.

“That’s perfect, baby.” Tony waits patiently for Peter to undress, hand skimming up and down his body all the while. He misses holding onto Peter’s stomach with the omega; it had been surprisingly intimate, especially in combination with the fertile heat scent surrounding Peter.

Beneath his button-up, he's wearing a plain white v-neck shirt. It's pretty thin since he has multiple layers on. His suit jacket…The button-up, then his Spiderman suit which has retracted… and the undershirt.

Since they're no longer swaying to and fro, he no longer has to hold onto the pole for balance. He shifts into a more comfortable position, making sure to keep the alpha buried deep inside him even then.

“You ready?” Tony asks gently.

He’s busy kissing up one side of Peter’s nape and down the other. He was never very good at waiting or holding still and having to do both with his erection snug inside such a blistering hot omega pussy makes him restless and somehow even hornier.

"Here, alpha…" Peter murmurs before leading the man's hands to his chest. Excitement stirs in his body and he almost can't bear the anticipation.

“Good boy, omega.” Tony praises right behind his ear, low and hot.

He loves a partner that asks for what they want. His fingers spread out, cupping his omega’s chest and squeezing. His thumbs find the pebbled nipples and begin circling, slow; repeating the same teasing dance he’d done with his pelvis earlier.

It's as Peter expects. His body is more sensitive and receptive than normal. Every slow tease against his nipples has the omega shifting about restlessly. It's not a full out assault, not yet, but it's a slow build of sensation. It tugs on his attention and one hand drifts between his legs towards his hard cocklet.

He clenches down on the alpha's cock, holding back a needy whine.

“You’re such a good boy for me. Holding so still. Waiting so patient. Letting me play with your body.” Tony’s voice lowers until his words are almost more heat than air. He presses his words into Peter’s pulse point and pinches both nipples simultaneously.

Peter's hand spasms midway down towards his cock. He whimpers, unable to help himself as delicious shocks of pleasure spark from where Tony plays with his chest. The words convince him to forgo touching himself.

"Alpha…" Peter murmurs, arching himself into the man's touch.

The movement causes his body to shift just enough that the alpha's cock slips out, just the tiniest bit, but Peter's quickly reclaims it. He doesn't want to lose even an inch of the alpha's cock in his pussy, he needs to be the good omega this alpha claims he is.

“You’re a good cockwarmer. Your pussy is still so tight, even holding my alpha cock for so long. You’re so wet still, too. Slick and horny and sitting nicely on my cock while I enjoy these little nipples. Right where you should be, omega. Where you belong.” Tony can’t move his hips but his cock bucks deep inside of Peter anyway, reacting to his own words.

He sighs softly and enjoys the zings of pleasure that follow. He rolls Peter’s nipples between his thumb and middle finger, pulling and tweaking, loving every contraction of Peter’s pussy around him it produces.

The flares of pleasure Peter feels are beautiful distractions, a great way to pass the time while they wait for the train to start up again. He feels the heavy weight of others trying to look at them, a difficult task with all the bodies blocking any clear sight. It still makes him feel hot…

Peter wants to do more than just be a pretty cockwarmer though he's enjoying this far too much that he wouldn't mind doing it again. As long as it's this alpha…

His face turns so he rubs his cheek against the expensive cloth. He can smell the alpha's sweat and musk through his clothing and his mouth waters, hungry to lick the taste from Tony's skin.

Tony turns and nuzzles back, mouthing kisses into Peter’s neck. He rubs his teeth over reddened skin and shifts his weight from foot to foot so his cock moves inside of Peter that delicious little bit. Holding back from pounding into his willing body when he’d been so close to coming was glorious torture.

Tony may not be able to fuck him without giving them away but Peter can do his own bit of teasing.

Even as he's being mercilessly teased, he works on dismantling the alpha's control. If he's going to lose his mind, he's bringing the alpha down with him.

"Not patient," he refutes before he starts purposely contracting and massaging the alpha's cock inside him.

“Baby…” Tony moans, ragged and breathless.

He kisses Peter’s nape and then his scent gland. His teeth nip and press but don’t leave any real marks. If Tony really was just rutting against Peter, he’d probably be trying to work a hickey onto his mating gland (or very close to it). Instead, he only teases with the promise of that taboo intimacy.

It doesn't even take much effort. The only true obstacle is his own pleasure building and yet, not getting enough of it. Every clench and squeeze has Tony's cock rubbing against his insides and it feels so good that he wants to start bouncing on the alpha's cock again.

He can't though, so he just reaches back with one hand and feels firm muscle of the alpha's leg beneath his fingers.

His eyes shutter close but he starts whispers of his own, lips parting so sweetly and speaking such filth.

"Alpha's cock feels so good in my pussy…" Peter softly moans, squeezing and massaging, "Wanna feel it again… Alpha fucking me open…"

“Alpha wants that too, baby.” Tony plucks and strums at Peter’s nipples. His cock is still aching, the edge taken off by Peter’s playing while his arousal amped up from the very same thing. He wants to snarl at everyone to leave so he could knot Peter on every available seat, claiming the whole car for their heat nest.

Peter gives such a harsh nip, desire swirling inside him and restless with how restrained they are.

"Don't think I wanna stop, alpha…" Peter murmurs, "Think we deserve a reward for this… No one even knows you have your cock inside me… What do you think, alpha…? I think I wanna feel how big your knot can get…."

Tony thrusts so hard forward they both tip their weight against the pole and it probably digs uncomfortably into Peter’s shoulder. Tony almost doesn’t care and keeps going anyway. The omega squeaks in surprise, tight little body clenching down like a vice.

He hears a concerned noise beside them and stills, remembering their situation with only a momentary clearing of the gauzy lust covering his gaze.

“Sorry. Lost my balance.” Tony mutters to no one and doesn’t stop pinning Peter to the pole with his body and cock. It’s almost as good as a wall with the other passengers all around to brace them, too. Tony’s attention tunnels in on how his base is already hot and tight, just a few thrusts from locking them together.

Tony leans in and puts his teeth to Peter’s neck at the back while a hand comes up to the front, cupping his throat, keeping his vulnerable neck pinned just as securely as his body.

The gesture makes Peter want to melt into his embrace, just caught on the older alpha's cock. He licks his dry lips, pulling in a ragged breath. Just that light pressure on his Adam's apple makes him so hot but it's the teeth at his nape that makes him want to whimper.

“You deserve that, omega. You deserve my knot. You’ve been so good. You’d take it so well, I know you would. When the train starts up again, I’ll give you what you’ve earned.” Tony promises through fanged kisses to Peter’s nape. He holds Peter close. The urge to pull back so he can thrust in and get hot friction is maddening.

Peter grips Tony's strong arm in a clawed grip. His eyes are squeezed shut now as he concentrates on feeling just how trapped he is here. Hand on his throat, teeth on his skin, and the most perfect alpha cock buried inside him. He wants to get caught on the knot, feels it like an undeniable itch deep inside…

"Alpha," he breathes, "you can smell it, can't you…?"

“Mm?” Tony makes an answering noise. He’s too busy to speak more, kissing and nipping in turn. Teeth igniting the sensitive patches of skin and his lips soothing away the jagged tingles.

Peter starts to slowly roll his hips in that tight space. It's an agonizing grind and he teases the alpha even more, trying to encourage that knot to pop without the alpha even continuing to fuck him.

"Heat soon," he pants quietly, "Not on any… suppressants… C'mon, alpha, want that knot…"

“Fuck, yes. You’re going to take it so deep for me.” Tony flexes his fingers and bites down, only careful enough not to break skin. He hopes he’s leaving marks.

How long can the alpha last when they're stuck like this? How long can Peter continue to tease him by using his internal muscles to squeeze and massage the hard length stretching him apart?

Slender fingers drift up towards Tony's and they press down, encouraging the alpha to squeeze just a little bit harder.

Tony’s fingers squeeze at the same time his hips tilt upward, trying to press inside more when he’s already balls deep. His heart is going a mile a minute and he can’t hear the crowd around them anymore.

"Knot me, Tony," Peter groans when he tips his head back, nipping at the man's jaw and letting his hot breath ghost along reddened skin. "I'll let you do it, let you cum inside me… Just like this. Nothing between us."

Tony’s teeth break skin and his hips jerk back the tightest inch of his life before slamming upwards. They’re held up only by his hold on Peter’s throat -hand and teeth- and his arm around the omega’s body pinning him to the pole. His eyes flutter shut as his knot inflates rapidly and he cums, popping in moments and locking them together in the middle of rush hour.

Peter barely feels the bite but he feels Tony's knot the moment it starts to grow.

His insides grow tight as he's forced to accommodate the knot rapidly inflating. His breath stutters in his chest, caught in his throat as brown eyes widen in surprise. He knows Tony's knot is going to be huge, but even he doesn't expect this. It's massive and the omega struggles to take it. His body is made for this but he can't help groaning, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his pussy accommodates the expanding size of the knot.

Tony buries his snarl in the nape of Peter’s hair, so glad he’d set his mouth somewhere safe before biting. He can’t stop shivering or growling, pressing in all around Peter, surrounding him with his scent and the vibration of his claim. His cock bucks continuously, shooting load after load into this dangerously sexy omega caught on his knot.

A whimper, soft and dazed, barely escapes before Peter's panting, lips slack and eyes dazed.

He's getting what he wants and it's better than he ever hoped to dream. His lashes flutter closed as he revels in the heat spilling inside him. He presses his palm over his belly where he had felt Tony's cock carving into him, pressing that sensitive place that makes Peter see stars. That's where he feels it... The alpha spilling all that hot heat inside him, feeding it directly into his womb.

It's the last thing he needs before he's coming too. He's forced to be quiet though. The only thing that gives him away is the soundless gasp and the vicious clenching of his body as he rides the high.

More wetness spills between his legs and he knows he's made a mess in his suit. The consequences don't seem as dire, not when he has an alpha pumping him full.

“Fuck, baby… Peter…” Tony pants, nuzzling the sluggishly bleeding bite mark he’d left dead center on the back of the omega’s neck.

His body is buzzing all over and aware of the other people around them tangentially. He kisses it and then has to resist biting into it again to deepen the mark. He wants to, though.

“Should have asked if I could bite you.” Tony murmurs when he can think past his pumping cock.

It’s a good thing they’d knotted successfully; if the amount of cum he’s flooding Peter with drips out his pussy and down his thigh, there’s no way they could have hidden their activities.

"Mm…" Peter sighs, content and a little cumdrunk.

There's never been any scientific proof about alpha cum affecting omegas like this, but Peter still feels like he’s becoming intoxicated, drunk off pleasure . He reaches up and gently traces over the bite mark. It stings a bit but he's had worse.

Tony kisses his fingers as they trace the bite. He nibbles on work rough fingertips, affectionate and easy. He’s got his omega held tight and secure and they’re both safe in the crowd.

Peter feels so good right now and he leans into the alpha's embrace, seeking out more contact. The idea of this ending, which it has to, is a threat to the afterglow he's currently basking in.

"Maybe next time," Peter decides to murmur.

He wants to make sure there's a next time.

"Wanna be my alpha, Tony…?" The omega asks even as he continues to milk the alpha's knot. It's just… incentive, really. "Don't think I'm done with you yet. Not when you have such a nice, big knot for me to play with..."

“Oh, fuck, do I ever, baby.” Tony rolls his hips, tugging on Peter’s rim with his knot. His hand finally lets go of his neck to reach down and touch his stomach, petting him where a pup would swell out if this knotting takes. He didn’t think he wanted kids but the thought of Peter getting pregnant has him coming again, teeth gritting back his sounds of pleasure.

The crowd around them shuffles and murmurs and politely doesn’t react. Tony kisses the sweaty skin of Peter’s bitten nape and smirks at anyone that makes eye contact while he relaxes into knotting Peter’s beautiful pussy.

“Need to… exchange phone numbers.” Tony pants out once the bliss ebbs enough for him to speak. He wants to do this again. He wants to maybe take Peter out to dinner, too. Maybe Peter would let Tony play with him under the table?

"Sounds perfect."

Peter relaxes into the knotting, body following instincts and squeezing down whenever he feels a load being pushed inside him. His belly flutters with the sensation, tiny little butterflies that have him smiling and feeling so affectionate for this alpha.

Tony kisses and nuzzles his nape and neck, carding fingers through sweat damp curls. Somehow he’s still filled with burning pleasure but the urgency has abated. So long as Peter stays right where he belongs on Tony’s knot. Tony keeps him blanketed with his body, instincts driving him to keep Peter close and hidden.

Peter reaches into his briefcase, fingers clumsy as he grabs a pen. Next, he takes Tony's hand, tugging up the alpha's sleeve so he can pen his phone number right on his skin. When he's done, he brings Tony's wrist to his mouth and lays a kiss there.

"You won't make me wait long, will you, alpha?" He murmurs.

“Aren’t you supposed to wait three days to not seem desperate?” Tony teases. He caresses Peter’s cheek, cupping his face tenderly so he could swipe a thumb across his skin.

The omega purrs but chuckles at the words. They’re knotted in a train… Desperate doesn’t seem to really have any meaning between them if this is how they met.

The train starts with a jolt and the quiet audience grumbles with mutters of finally. A brief announcement from the train conductors lets Peter know they're actually two quick stops away from where he gets off.

The knot is still going strong so Peter doesn't think it'll be done by then. He doesn't want to rush the alpha either. There's nothing they could do to hasten a knotting and a quick glance at the time shows he could still make it to his interview.

As expected, the two stops pass quickly and Peter still finds himself in the alpha's arms when the subway doors close and take him to the next stop. He's actually two stops late when he finally feels it soften. Even then, his omega side hates the idea of separating now but he does so with the assurance that they'll meet up again.

“Get ready, sweetheart,” Tony whispers against Peter’s ear. He can tell it’s almost deflated enough to pull out. A few testing tugs and some seconds later and he’s proven right when the knot pulls out reluctantly.

Peter pulls away with a shiver, feeling the alpha's cock slip from his body. Tony came so deep inside him that he doesn't feel any of his load slipping out, not yet anyway. Maybe later… Maybe during his interview, he'll feel some of that wetness leaking out of him.

The very thought makes him tremble with anticipation.

Tony tucks himself away, zipping up. Within seconds, he looks nothing like a degenerate alpha that knotted a stranger on the train ride to work. He uses his body to shield Peter from view as the omega takes a little longer to straighten up, guarding him partly from instinct and partly from Tony’s own possessive streak.

It only takes a minute more to become perfectly presentable. Peter's clothes are easy to fix and he'll have to clean up in a bathroom somewhere… Use some scent neutralizers or something so he doesn't smell like an omega just recently fucked and seeded, even though that's exactly what's happened.

Peter slips his fingers into the alpha's hair and urges him close. He shares a single kiss with the alpha, eyes drifted closed to maintain the sweet anonymous nature of their meeting. Next time… Next time, he'll take everything in.

"See you later, alpha. Don't keep me waiting too long."

He's gone with the crowd, feeling every twinge and ache in his lower body and loving every bit of it. He has thirty minutes to get to his interview and decides to take a cab instead of riding the train back down the line.

Tony watches him go. He licks his lips, tasting the lingering traces of their kiss. He looks down at where the numbers been scrawled on his skin and smiles broadly.

“Well, now I won’t have to use JARVIS to find you, sweetheart.”

“You’re late.” Pepper’s waiting for him. Tony grimaces and swerves away from the labs he’d been trying to duck away into.

“You’re not getting out of those interviews. You promised those young men and women an appearance and I let you skip three board meetings in exchange. You’re going.” Pepper beats him to the punch and grabs him by the nape like he was an unruly pup. He acquiesces with grace and dignity and no squawking or flailing of any kind.

He’s deposited outside the door to the first interviewee, given a stapled little stack of papers and a pen, and told not to get any lawsuits today. Then Pepper’s on her way with JARVIS’s promise to keep Tony in line.

“Traitor…” Tony mutters as he opens the door.

Inside, the guy must have gotten bored of waiting for Tony (he’d taken the time to get an iced coffee. Knotting was thirsty work!) and is up out of his seat, reading something on the wall.

Tony’s eyes automatically dip to catalogue the ass on offer. It's as unconscious as breathing and he does it even when he isn’t residually horny, still thinking about that omega from the train.

Wait.

He knows that ass...

He just fucked that ass.

It’s Peter!

“Well, well, well. I see you couldn’t wait for a text.” Tony purrs the words out, alpha pride swelling in his chest. Peter has to be smart to make it this far and he’s so beautiful in the improved lighting. Beauty and brains. The combination that always brought him to his knees.

Peter pauses in his task. The wall is lined with testimonies about Stark Industries and all the awards they've received in the past couple years. He knows when Tony Stark enters, even picks up the alpha's scent when he does.

His brain doesn't quite make the connection until he hears Tony's voice. He's been waiting for some time, edging into the second hour actually, so any residual omegan instincts should be well and truly gone.

Except he recognizes that voice and his body does too. Heat sparks in the pit of his belly and he has to take in a breath to compose himself.

The alpha's playful tone breaks all expectations of professionalism between them though.

Peter turns with a smile as though he'd expected this all along.

"You kept me waiting," Peter says with teasing smile.

He takes a couple steps towards the older man, really taking him in. Dark hair, sharp eyes, a smile that just made him want to melt. Tony Stark is a hard man to forget. His face is plastered all over the media and Peter has had a crush on him since he was a pup…

Tony Stark also doesn't take mass transit or so Peter had thought.

No wonder it was so easy for Peter to trick himself into thinking it was his celebrity crush. The alpha in the subway had the perfect body build and the voice had been very similar and now, Peter knows why.

His mystery alpha is who he's been fantasizing about all along. What a coincidence, if Peter believes in such things..

"Alpha," Peter dips his head in acknowledgement, flashing Tony Stark a hint of his bruised neck. "My name's Peter Parker and I'm very… passionate about working with you. If you'll have me."

"Hmm." Tony’s eyes lock onto the dark mark.

He remembers the taste of putting it there and feels heat bloom below his belly button. His cock wants to test out how well his omega has held onto his load. His mouth wants a taste of that tantalizing slick he’d only gotten a sniff of.

He looks down at his wrist where Peter’s phone number is still written.

“Tell you what. I’ll hire you, right here and now, if you strip and present your hole for me.” Tony smirks. He lifts his iced coffee to his lips and takes a languid sip, eyes sparkling. “I need to check you’ve held onto what I gave you earlier like a good boy before I make my decision.”

Perhaps, any other omega would have gotten offended at such a request. It does make Peter's face flush pink with heat but he's not offended. He got the interview on his own merit and he knows he would've been hired anyway.

Maybe if they hadn't met earlier or done what they did, this game would've been played over a series of weeks, omega teasing alpha and alpha teasing omega. Or maybe it would've gone exactly like it did an hour ago, scent calling to scent and the two of them irresistibly drawn together regardless of being boss and employee.

Either way, Peter starts by taking off his suit jacket. Then with slow, teasing fingers, he pops each button on his shirt from top to bottom and lets the shirt tails hang loosely. The shoes go and his pants drop to his ankles. He steps out without hesitation and despite the way his entire body wants to shake with anticipation, he walks towards the alpha with almost a predatory gait.

His hands rest on Tony's firm chest and he smiles, a dare and lure at the same time.

"Check then, alpha," Peter says confidently. "No matter what you say, I already got what I want."

He hooks his hand in the alpha's neck, pulling him down as he leans up.

"You." Peter kisses him, leaving no room for questions.

#starker #madstarker writes #keyz fic #intersex omegas #nff #moody mads #omegaverse

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miss-tc-nova · 4 years

Text

The Cat’s Meow - Jumin Han x Fem!Reader Pt 14

Okay okay, I am SO sorry for the soap opera last chapter, but it was either that or write a messy divorce and I wasn’t feeling that. But the drama’s not over yet.

Part 14: Are You Afraid of Me

The following weeks after the wedding disaster, I can’t even leave my house. There are news reporters and paparazzi literally camping outside my yard. There’s also body guards from C&R stationed around my home, which is probably the only thing from keeping the cameras out of my window. That doesn’t stop the random few who attempt to approach under the guise of delivery people. At one point, Sarah Choi and her sister pound on my door demanding my head, or something like that. It’s not like I answered the door for them. My face is all over the news and people are calling me all sorts of terrible names. Even death threats came through, which I assume is another reason the guards are here.

For a while, only Zen is allowed into my home, based solely on the fact that he has a key. He’s the only reason I haven’t starved yet. I know he’s never liked my home due to Mako, but he puts up with it and I really appreciate it. After those initial weeks, when people begin to give up on interviews, Luciel, Yoosung, and Jaehee reenter my life. Yoosung keeps me updated on the clinic; thankfully, they’re managing to get through my absence. Eventually, I become yesterday’s news and Jaehee tells me she has to take the guards away, for which I thank her. I venture out and return to work, but for a while, work and home are the only places I go. Occasionally, someone will come in under the guise of a client but really just wants to interview me. Yoosung definitely gets his practice in on those days, dealing with the client and most of the work on the animal. It takes a lot for Corine not to cuss people out when they use their animal to try to get to me though.

I’m reading over random news feed online when I hear my phone buzz noiselessly. It’s been two solid months since I last had a call from Jumin, and three total since the wedding incident. Fresh wounds in my heart tear open at the sight of his smiling face on the screen. Reaching over lifelessly, I press the reject button.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the front door. Zen’s supposed to be stopping by today. I sigh and go to answer the door. I instantly regret doing so when I come face to face with not Zen. Without a word, he takes my wrist and pulls me out the door. It slams behind me but he pulls me down the steps and to a waiting car.

“Let go of me! Jumin! Let go!” I scream, struggling uselessly against his grip. My heart is pounding in my ears and thoughts of Dark Jumin are racing through my head. “Jumin! Let go!”

Uncharacteristically rough, Jumin opens the car door and shoves me inside before sliding in after me. I reach for the opposite door, only to find it child locked, meaning I’m trapped in here.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! This is kidnapping! Let me out!” I can’t even roll down the windows. Glaring out the window, Jumin won’t answer me. Tears build up in my eyes and I start to seriously panic inside. “Take me home right now! Jumin Han, you won’t get away with this!” The closer we get to his house, the more my words turn to begging. “Please. Let me go. I wanna go home.”

Without a change of expression, Jumin pulls me up to his pent house. I stand in the middle of the room, trembling, with a soaking face.

“Why are you doing this? Please. I want to go home,” I cry.

Finally, Jumin’s stern expression breaks. “I need you to stay here.” When I sniffle, he pulls the handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabs at my face. I’m honestly afraid to resist. “Please don’t cry, my love.” My heart stammers and his words have created more tears. There’s a genuine fear in my heart that I may have just been kidnapped.

“_____, listen to me. Elizabeth the 3rd went missing.” I peek up at him but it doesn’t really slow my crying. “There are people trying to destroy and hurt members of the RFA. I have reason to believe they kidnapped my cat and I fear that you’ll be next. You have to stay here, where I can see you, where you’re safe.”

“No! I don’t want to be here! I’ll go somewhere else! I-I’ll go to Luciel’s! Please don’t make me stay here!”

There’s pain across his face. “I’m trying to keep you safe, ______. Why can’t you understand that?”

“I understand but I don’t want to be here! Aren’t you listening to me?!”

“What did I do to make you hate me?” The words are like a slap in the face. His face holds a mix of anger and hurt. “I’m trying to protect you. The least you could do is say thank you!” I fear the anger that rises in him and shrink beneath him. His eyes drop to my arm. “I’m sorry. I must’ve handled you too roughly.” I notice the large bruise forming and pull my arm closer to my chest in a weak attempt to conceal it from him. Ignoring me, he gestures to his home. “Make yourself at home. Use anything you need or rearrange it if you prefer. If there’s anything you need, please tell the chief of security. I’ve told him to provide anything you request.” He pauses, taking me in. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Please, just stay here.”

Without another word, he simply walks back out the door he brought me in. I run after him but the door is locked. My knees give way.

After some time, I gather myself and call Luciel.

“Hello?”

I sniffle “Luciel, listen to me. I need you to go to my house and get Mako.”

“Huh? What are you talking about? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. It’s Jumin. I’m trapped in his house.”

“What?! Wh-Oh no…It’s Elizabeth isn’t it?”

“He said something about someone might have kidnapped her but he came to my house and forced me into his car and now I’m stuck in his house.” I resist the crying again. “I-I need you to take care of Mako for a while for me, please.”

“Okay. Just leave your fluffy friend to me. He’ll love me almost as much as he does you when you come get him.”

“Thanks Luciel.”

There’s a moment’s pause. “Listen, _____. There’s a very real possibility that Elly was kidnapped by some people trying to get at the RFA. And because you’re friends with all of us and you were so important to Jumin, there’s a high chance they’d come after you too. I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but Jumin’s home is probably the safest place you could be right now.”

“But I…I don’t want to be around him right now,” I mumble.

“I know. But you’re safe there. You know he’ll do everything in his power to keep you safe,” he tries to reason. “We’re doing everything we can to fix this, so please just be patient. We’ll get you out of there as soon as we can.”

I have no choice but to relent. Jumin’s been irrational throughout our entire relationship, but Luciel hasn’t given me any reason to doubt him.

“Okay,” I sigh.

“Don’t worry, _____. Everything will be okay.” He turns on his silly demeanor. “God Seven is on the job!”

I sniffle but feel calmer having talked to someone else. “Alright.”

After bidding Luciel goodbye, I spend the time without Jumin going over every inch of his home that I haven’t explored before; even if Luciel says this is for my own good, I’m not about to let Jumin get another one over on me. I want a backup plan in case things go downhill. Alas, being very high off the ground with guards at the only door does not make finding escape routes easy. However, as I pass through the kitchen for the third time, I notice the knife holder full of shiny silver blades on the counter.

No! Stop it. It will not come to that.

And then the kidnapper returns come sunset. “I’m back. I hope you’ve been finding everything to your liking.” From my spot on the sofa, I simply glare at him. “What would you like for dinner?” No response. “You’re making being a good host very difficult,” he huffs, wandering into his bedroom.

He makes another attempt to share dinner with me but I ignore it and he eats alone. I can tell it bothers him but there seems to be less anger and more of a wounded expression. I’m sure my stubbornness is only one on a list of several problems he has right now. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about his cat. That still doesn’t give him the right to treat me the way he did.

Jumin sits on the other end of the couch with a heavy sigh; I scoot as far as I can to the other end. His silver eyes slight. “Would you stop acting like a victim,” he growls.

Purely insulted at his lack of a grasp on the situation, I snap back, “And how is someone who’s been kidnapped supposed to act?!”

His fists tighten. “What was I supposed to do? Let them come for you?! At least I’m trying to keep you safe! For all I know, my cat is dead!”

“This wouldn’t be a problem if you just moved on!”

“That’s rich coming from the woman who confessed she loved me after ruining my wedding!”

“You ruined your own damn wedding! I was in support of your marriage, you ass!”

“If you were in support of me marrying another woman, you shouldn’t have come!”

“You personally wrote the invitation asking me to come!”

“BECAUSE I STILL LOVED YOU!”

Off the sofa, I round the furniture to put some distance between us. Jumin gets to his feet, clearly seething.

“Why are you even doing this?! You confessed! Why are you still fighting when I know you love me?!”

“I already told you; it won’t work! So just leave me alone!”

I start for the hallway when he catches my arm. Immediately, all my defiance vanishes when I’m faced with a man who, not only has me locked in his home, but is clearly larger and stronger than I am.

“No! For once you’re going to give me some straight answers!” the man snarls, looming over me. “Why do you have to be so frustrating when all I’ve ever wanted to do is take care of you?!” Words caught in my throat, I fumble in trying to pry his hand off me.

Jumin has grabbed me before, on multiple occasions. As it’s always when he’s upset, it’s firm, but never painful. I’ve always known he never intended to harm me but this is entirely different. His grip is digging into my muscles and this is the first time he’s ever shaken me, sending my fear sky rocketing.

“Answer me!”

Fueled by terror, I lash out at him, my free hand making contact across his face. I scramble towards the kitchen the instant I’m free. Reaching across the counter, I grab a knife from the holder and point it at him. Immediately, Jumin takes a step back, a nice red mark forming on his cheek.

“_____, put the knife down,” he says cautiously.

“What’s wrong, Jumin?!” I snap, inching towards him. “I thought you were upset with me! I THOUGHT YOU WANTED ANSWERS!”

Holding hands up, the heir eases back with each of my steps towards him. “We’re both rational adults. Put the knife down and we can talk about this.”

“There’s nothing rational about you when you’re angry!”

“I’m not currently the one holding a knife,” he retorts. That short stint of bravery goes out the window when the one actually holding the knife continues to get closer. “Put it down, _____.”

“NO! You think you get to put your hands on me whenever you want?! Grab me?! Shake me?! Pull me around?! Then you better be fuckin’ prepared for a fight!”

“I don’t want-”

“SHUT UP! IT’S MY TURN!” He flinches as I scream at him. “That first night we had drinks, you did the same thing! You kept me trapped here all night against my will! And since then, any time you get upset, you push me around and bully people AND I’M GETTING SICK OF IT!”

Jumin’s back hits a wall and he freezes. His entire body presses against the wall as much as possible and all the color drains from his face.

“YOU DO NOT CONTROL MY LIFE! YOU DO NOT PUSH ME AROUND! AND YOU SURE AS HELL DO NOT PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME!” My fist clenches around the front of his shirt and I raise the knife above my head. “ARE YOU AFRAID OF ME YET?!”

Eyes locked onto the knife and trembling, Jumin doesn’t say a word. I study him, full of anger and pain and even if I’m ashamed of myself for this, I know I’ve got my point across. The tears break through and the knife clatters to the floor.

“Because that’s how I feel every time you’re angry…” I mutter, letting go of him.

“Wh-What?” he stammers.

My knees give way. Head hanging forward, I’m so sick of crying lately. In shocked silence, Jumin slides to the floor. Not a word passes between us for some time and I wonder when he’ll regain the courage to have me thrown out.

“Do you…really feel so terrified around me?”

Rubbing at a bleary eye, I peek up at him. He’s wearing a look of pain and that sorrow from earlier makes a reappearance.

“When you get mad,” I mutter. His face falls into his hands and he shudders. “I love you, Jumin. But I’m afraid. Sometimes I’m afraid I’m going to ruin your life. And sometimes I’m afraid of you.”

I’ve done a lot of crying over the last few months and, as a vet, I’ve seen a lot of people cry. But the last thing I ever thought I’d see is Jumin cry. I hate it. I wanted him to break and understand just exactly how I felt, but I hate this. There were other things I could have done…Zen was right.

Crawling forward, I slip my hands around his face, making him look at me. “Before we can do anything or make any decisions, I need you to understand how I feel.”

He barely manages a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Pushing my way onto his lap, I hold him against me and spill everything. The worries, the fears, weaknesses, reasoning; all of it comes out as I try desperately to explain why I’ve been afraid of acknowledging his feelings. He fully believed that I never cared about his status, but in reality, it was a key factor in me keeping my distance.

“And I knew I should’ve stopped talking to you, stopped encouraging you, but I’m so weak for you,” I say, my fingers making another pass through his hair. “And now we’re in this mess where I can’t even get out of bed without tearing my own heart out and we’re in the news for scandals and the person I care about most is a complete mess and…And I’m so sorry.” I let my forehead fall against the top of his head, trying to keep together.

Jumin leans back, eyes flickering over my barely composed face. To my surprise, he starts to chuckle. His warm thumb brushes across my cheek. “We’re a shipwreck, aren’t we.”

“It’s train wreck, Jumin,” I giggle, returning the gesture. “And yes, we definitely are.”

He heaves a sigh. “I never want you to be afraid of me. I’ll…I guess I could look into anger management? I don’t really know what to do about this but I know I want to fix it.”

I brush his hair back. “I don’t know if it’s anger management so much as you need to trust that I can take care of myself. Just because I have a bruise doesn’t mean I’m a damsel in distress. Sometimes it just means I’m clumsy.” I nuzzle my nose against his. “Otherwise, I’m pretty sure I can scare off most guys on my own.”

I hear the skittering and glance to see him push the knife away. “Yeah, I kind of learned that one.” We both fall to laughter. “I’ll work on it. I promise, I’ll try.”

“Thank you.”

“Now it’s your turn.” My brows pop. “You ignored both our feelings in an attempt to protect my career?”

My shoulders droop. “Jumin, I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel to survive while you fly out to Paris just to avoid going to dinner with your dad. I have student loans I may never be able to pay off and you buy entire islands for the RFA to go vacation on…You’d be the laughing stock of the upper class for going out with me. Besides, I heard your father; I know he doesn’t approve of me.”

“I’m a grown man who had a cat-themed birthday party. As long as it’s for you, I don’t care what anybody else thinks. As for my father, as a womanizer, I don’t think he gets any say in whatever relationship I choose. Even if he could do anything to hold it over my head, I’d give up everything for you.” I press a fist against my mouth. “I would give up my company, my money, my life as the C&R heir to be with you. I’d grab a suitcase of clothes and move in with you right now if you want. A life with you is far more valuable than any of that.”

I shake my head. “Jumin, you could have the pick of all the women in the world. Your assistant is beautiful, the last woman you had a crush on was like a goddess, even the snooty woman you were engaged to was pretty. So why would you pick me? They’ve got the credentials and the looks; so why would you pick me over them?”

A hand slips into my hair, pressing my forehead to his. “First of all, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and nothing can convince me otherwise: not Serah Choi, not Assistant Kang, and not Rika, no one. And second, I’m new to this whole loving another person thing, but even I know looks and financial stability aren’t everything in a relationship.”

“Is this where you get all cheesy and tell me how great I am?” I grumble, leaning back.

“Hmhm. Well it was supposed to be. But I suppose we’d be here all night listing all the things I love about you. Let’s just say I love everything about you, except maybe how idiotically selfless you can be.” Hands against my face, he kneads my cheeks in an attempt to tease me. “Guess I’ll have to punish you by spoiling you nonstop.”

“Don’t you dare!” I hiss.

The smirk slowly fades. “I’d do anything for you, _____. Please don’t leave me again.”

My fists clench at the fabric on his shoulders. Since I met this man, I’ve wanted nothing more than to be with him, but I’ve spent equally as long trying to protect him from the consequences of that relationship. Now he’s swept them all off the table, begging me to stay.

“Okay.”

Instantly, he’s got me in a crushing hug. “Thank god.”

Giving in to everything I’ve dreamt of, I pull away so I can get at his lips. The fire ignites in my chest and I know I’ll never get enough. But Jumin quickly takes the reigns and slows my desperate attempt to make up for lost time. Each kiss is almost-torturously slow; he does so purposefully, trying to convey just what this means to him, showing me that he means every word he said earlier. The pace also gives me a chance to memorize the feel of his lips against mine; smooth with a slight chill, tempting me to taste. Within moments, every worry, fear, and even the desperation at the start of this make out is quelled to safe, fully-content, blissful love.

Breaking this kiss, Jumin looks to me, pure joy in his eyes. “I love you.”

I don’t know if I could ever be happier. “I love you too.”

“Are you crying again?”

“Shut up.”

#jumin han #jumin x reader #jumin han x mc #jumin han x reader #jumin x mc #mysme #mysme jumin #mystic messenger #fem!reader

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chrisevansbabymama · 5 years

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Daddy Hair Care - Chapter 4.2

Here is the second instalment, at long last! Still using the same gif as the previous, as it’s still the same night. The more time I sat on this chapter, the more time I’ve had to tweak it and change it from the original draft, so it’s still slightly longer than usual - all 4,288 words, but I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for being so patient.

_______

Chapter 4.1

Chapter 4.2 - He’s Just Not That Into You:

“I gotta say,” Chris said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, suddenly very coy.

It’d been a mere five minutes since they’d left the restaurant and were walking in the direction towards her house. They’d delved in and out of a couple of topics, including Mya and Dodger who Chris confessed to be missing, but was trying his best to not be on ‘daddy mode.’ Kayla found that so cute, and could see he had been honest when he’d said he wanted to get out more and put himself out there, it seemed his internal battle was learning to let go of his dependants. Whatever putting himself ‘out there’ meant for him, she supposed she could only be happy for him.

“Mmmh?” Kayla asked when the pause was a second too long.

“I’ve just...I’ve had a pretty good night tonight,”

Kayla pressed her lips together to hide a smile, her heart fluttering at the way he casually dropped the compliment. Here she was thinking that he would have given up anything to be anywhere else. His warm eyes met hers, but with the look he wore she could discern that there was more to it. She wasn’t going to interrogate him and make it awkward, if he wanted to, she was sure he would say it.

And she hadn’t been wrong about there being more to it; it was more of a feeling than Chris could put into words. It was a weird, funny feeling he felt; elation somewhat laced with anxiety. The good kind.

“It was nice to finally get out of my suite and do something that’s not work related, or taking the kids out,” he said, referring to his two kids – Mya and Dodger.

Then his stomach twisted as guilt washed over him for confessing that he enjoyed his time without them.

“It’s okay,” Kayla looked at him reassuringly. She could sense his aura change in the same way that her siblings’ would when they talked about finding space and a life outside of their kids. “To do things without them, you’re not neglecting them. Call it self-care,”

“Yes ma’am,” he nudged her gently with his elbow, relaxing at her encouragement.

Kayla was smiling too now but she looked ahead in the direction they were heading, “Y’say you had a good night as if you are surprised that I’m good company,”

“Not that, I wasn’t surprised,” he quickly corrected, appreciating the humour to lighten up the threatening sombre mood. “I just mean that I didn’t realise how busy the whole team was, that I never really got a chance to know you properly since you joined us,”

“Relax Hollywood, you’re sweating,”

As usual, comedy was her go-to defensive mechanism so that he couldn’t see the effect his words had on her, because she was more than flattered that he actually enjoyed being alone with her. At least that’s what she was going to take from his statement.

“You are right, I mean this whole thing took off so quickly for me, I haven’t even processed it,”

Kayla recalled to the day she got a call from his assistant Tiffany, asking if she was able to assist on a photo shoot the following day. His previous make-up artist had gone on maternity leave and he had been booked on a last minute cover shoot, so they needed someone to groom just for that one day. But a photo shoot turned into a contract for several projects, then she was hired on for the Lobby Hero and possibly Infinity War press; but the later was still TBC due to his conflicting schedule. She prayed that he was going to do a few rounds of press for it, otherwise her work with him was coming to an end in less than a couple of weeks.

Once he starts Lobby Hero, that was going to be it, and then he would start filming the last Avengers instalment not too long after. He had spoken about going to Boston in the small gap before filming. He was very much a family-oriented man, Kayla accepted the fact that once he was in Boston, he would shut the rest of the world out. Especially his Hollywood life; which she was a part of.

So yes, whilst he didn’t overtly say he only enjoyed spending time with her alone; Kayla convinced herself that he was implying just that, because it was probably the first and last time she would ever be alone with him like this.

Chris nodded, “It’s crazy, it’s such a fast-paced industry you never get a chance to slow down. I’m glad we got that tonight. You were pleasant enough,”

His devil may care tone at the last statement earned him a sharp glare and a heavy sigh, enough to make Chris retract.

“London, I’m joking,” he said quickly putting an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side.

He was incredibly tactile, this she had learnt very early on since the first time she worked with him; the hugs, the gentle touch on her upper arm when he was trying to squeeze past her, the tap against her leg when he was laughing hysterically. Her favourite touch was when he would gently squeeze or rub her shoulders on a long day of interviews. He would comfort her with a “almost there London,” as if she was the celebrity ready to retire from the repetitive questions.

So this was nothing.

It didn’t feel like nothing though. It felt nice. It felt like she belonged there, flush against him.

When she didn’t respond he wrapped her in his arms in the biggest teddy bear hug he could muster, gently swaying her.

“Talk to me,” he sing-songed.

“Please say something,” he was starting to worry that he’d upset her. “I’m not used to you not having anything to say back,”

Kayla’s voice came out muffled as she breathed against his chest, “You’re so annoying!”

“There she is,” he finally laughed in relief, drawing back from the hug but still held onto her, this time he slid his hands down her arms until her held her hands, studying her but he failed to suss her out.

Please kiss me, she thought, glancing at his lips.

Chris considered it. She was only a few inches away, he could do it seamlessly if he wanted. But he didn’t know if she would like that. She looked away quickly before he could even suggest to her that he was going to kiss her.

But Kayla had only looked away because she noticed the make-up stain she’d left on his shirt when he’d squeezed her against his chest. Too embarrassed to confront it, despite her boldness towards him, she figured that some things were better left unsaid. If she brought attention to it, she knew he would be put off. He’d always been vocal about being a simple guy, liking his women natural - your girl next door type*. Hence why she’d gone for the ‘no make-up, make-up’ look tonight, to look as natural as she could for him.

Patriarchy 2 – 0 Kayla.

“Your hands are cold,” he said quietly deflecting the tension brewing from the assumed rejection, squeezing her hands gently but firm in an attempt to warm them up.

“Yeah,” she said distractedly, shaking off the thought of the very close encounter. “You were right, it’s cold,”

“Why didn’t you tell me,” he said shrugging his coat off and swung it around her, he held onto the lapel.

“I didn’t want you to say ‘I told you so,’” she pouted childishly. “You don’t have to do that Chris, you’re gonna get sick - that blazer is not gonna keep you warm. And we can’t have you sick and cancelling all your work commitments,”

“Maybe that’s the plan, I deserve some time off. A little flu never hurt anybody,” he shrugged with a wink.

“No seriously, Keith will kill me,”

He titled his head and studied her, before saying, “Why thank you Chris for this coat, you’re such a gentleman,”

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t sound like that,” and then laughed at his attempt at her voice, before finally accepting the coat and sliding her arms into the sleeves, letting out an earnest, “Thank you.”

“And now you can’t say I’m not a nice guy,”

“Wait, what?” Kayla laughed with uncertainty. “I have never said you’re not a nice guy,”

Chris smirked, giving her a side-glance that she couldn’t read, but one thing for sure was it was so sexy.

“I don’t know, sometimes I get a feeling that you hate me,”

“I don’t hate you, I just enjoy knocking you down a pedestal or two. Keeps you grounded,”

He smiled.

“Works like a charm,”

“Besides, if I hated it being on your team, I’d have left within a second, believe me,”

“Well, wouldn’t want that,” he commented, eyeing the coat on her before doing up the buttons that he had disregarded when he had been wearing it. “Want me to get you an Uber home?”

“No, unless I’m boring you?”

“Ha, never that,” he stuffed his hands back in his pockets and eyed the pavement as they paced in unison. “I was thinking that since you’re not going to die of hypothermia now that you have my coat, maybe we should do something spontaneous,”

Kayla eyed him suspiciously, frowning and raising a questioning eyebrow.

Chris looked at her nonchalantly, his eyes glazed with a mischievous shimmer.

“I’m worried,”

He laughed softly, “Nah it’ll be fun, nothing to worry about,”

“You’re making me nervous, how spontaneous? On a scale of 1-10?”

“Uhm...8...”

“Go on,” her tone was still doubtful.

“Let’s go catch a film,”

“I don’t understand,” she was dumbfounded.

“I really don’t wanna end the night,” coyness really suited him. He scratched the back of his neck nervously, his face turning a shade of pink again. “Remember when we were teenagers – well, I don’t know about you, but I used to sneak out at night and I’d always make sure I’d stay out as late as possible and make the most of it. I knew if my mom caught me out, I’d never be allowed again for a while…tonight’s kinda like that. But instead of my mom, work’s going to occupy my time and I might not get a chance to do this again until I finish Lobby Hero. So if you still care to spend the rest of the evening with me; what do you say we go watch a film?”

Kayla felt sad. His face was a shimmering look of hope, like a child asking to go to Disneyland; which was the source of her sadness. Why did going to the theatre excite him so much? Something so normal and regular to her, and took for granted, for Chris normalcy was a luxury, it seemed.

“Uhmm...I thought you said spontaneous,” there she was again with the humour, she cringed immediately, realising this wasn’t the time.

“Uhmm yeah it is, for me anyway....” he shrugged casually and looked ahead.

“Chris?” she wanted to ask him if he was okay. Maybe the magazine event he’d been too had been a negative reinforcement of the cons of his job, as he had mentioned earlier that he barely knew anyone there and had to endure it, in the name of good press.

“Mhhh?”

“Yes,” she said, she deflected. “I mean, yes, let’s go watch a film. I’m a little overdressed though,”

He smiled so brightly that her concern for his wellbeing vanished, “You sure?” she nodded. “Honey, we’ve both been overdressed since that restaurant,”

“Maybe I should go home and change my shoes and get my coat so you can have yours back,”

“Everything you just said defeats the whole ‘spontaneous’ part, I usually have to go to the theatre dressed in a hoodie and baseball cap. I go miles to be incognito, tonight, I’m living on the wild side,” he retrieved his phone from his trousers pocket. “I’m getting an Uber as we speak,”

Kayla considered this: never imagining the first time alone with Chris in a dark room would be in a movie theatre. She had to admit, it would be fun to sit in such a close proximity in the dark. They’d both missed their opportunity to kiss the other just several minutes ago; maybe fate was giving them another chance.

“ See anything you like, London?” Chris shifted from his window seat to the middle, minutes later as they sat in the back of the Uber exec. He held the phone so they could both see the movie listings.

If she was going to be honest, none of the films stood out for her but this wasn’t about her. So she looked on as he scrolled slowly, thinking more about her strategy on dealing with being in the dark lit room with him. What better way to get up close and personal than a film? It was the perfect set up for that missed kiss; she pictured it so vividly: his arm would surreptitiously snake around her shoulder as he pretended to yawn and disregard the film before making a move on her. She had seen this scene many times in films that she was even surprised Chris was going to be this predictable.

Annihilation, Irreplaceable You, Peter Rabbit, she read the listings…Fifty Shades Freed.

“Game Night?” he offered after several debates.

Kayla looked at the poster on his screen and glanced up at Chris, “So much for spontaneity, Chris no offence but if you were to die tonight and I was to read your eulogy about the very last film you saw, you want it to be this?”

“Whoa,” he was genuinely startled. “There’s a lot to unpack there. First of all...actually you are right. I told you I don’t get out much. And second, that’s so deep, why does someone have to die tonight?”

“You thought I was going to get hypothermia,”

“Are you suggesting we watch something a little steamy?” he cocked his eyebrows playfully and gave her a look that she recognised instantly. He was back in form. “Fifty Shades Freed? Is that what you want?”

Kayla shook her head with no witty comeback to rally with him.

“I haven’t seen the other ones,”

“I should hope so, not suitable for kids,”

“Game Night it is, only because you’re annoying me and I’m not gonna give you what you want,”

Chris ignored the double entrendre. Begrudgingly.

Kayla’s imagination has always been very active since her youth. She’d learned to be imaginative as a means to escape from a young age, hence why she has always gravitated towards creative subjects and eventually a career in the arts. When she’d imagined the exciting prospect of being alone in the dark with Chris, what was going to ensure seemed clearly written in the stars. Though a small part of her thought the idea was too far fetched, it became more promising when she realised that they were the only ones in the late showing of Game Night in the theatre.

The ticket purchasing was strategically planned to avoid Chris being spotted by any chance. Judging by how seamless every stage was, she became more optimistic that halfway through the movie he was going to make a move on her, like they did in the movies. She wondered if the sign would come when he either placed his bag of popcorn on the floor or on the seat next to him, yawn and sneakily wrap an arm around her shoulders. Then she imagined he would naturally whisper something in her ear, making her giggle before lifting her chin with his index finger and finally kissing her.

And so it happened:

Half way through the film, he placed his almost empty bag of popcorn on the floor and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Her heart was thudding, leg jiggling nervously, so she crossed them and tried to act normal, as if she didn’t even know what was happening. It was surreal, the adrenalin charged through her that she didn’t even know what to do anymore and feared she wouldn’t give him the kiss of her life.

So Lauren was right. He does like me, she thought, making a mental note to thank her and apologise profusely for dismissing her claims.

“Oh man,” he stifled a yawned and muttered under his breath, becoming increasingly restless.

Everything was going according to plan. And imagination.

A few seconds passed and she didn’t feel an arm on her shoulder, nor did he inch near her. Instead, he inched away, resting his elbow on the other armrest and his chin on his clenched fist. The arm around her shoulder never came. She kept her eyes glued on the screen, watching on in a haze, barely concentrating. She felt sick.

She’d done the calculations, and this wasn’t the outcome she expected.

But then again, Maths was never her strongest subject.

She soon realised he hadn’t been trying to flirt or intend to make a move on her. His eyes were shut and chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She watched him for a few seconds, thinking it was a sick twisted joke, maybe he would crack and burst out into a laugh, and yell “gotcha,” but he was actually in a deep sleep. He didn’t flinch or budge at the reverberating sounds throughout the rest of the film.

That’s when she knew that dream was over. There only so many disappointments one could take and keep sticking around with hope.

“Chris...Chris...” he heard her faint voice in the distance, ignoring it because he thought it was another one of his dreams where she made a regular appearance. He felt a hand on his shoulder, her voice speaking again. “C’mon, we have to go,”

“Hmmm?” He sat up, opening his eyes as they prickled from the glare from the screen ahead. He looked around and saw her. A delightful sight, even if it was slightly dim. “Kayla?”

“Good morning,” she laughed.

What a sound to wake up to, he thought.

“Morning?” he instantly panicked, his mind automatically thinking of Mya and Dodger.

“I’m joking, the movie’s finished. I didn’t wanna wake you up earlier, you looked really comfortable.”

“How much did I miss?”

“Like the last hour,”

“Fuck,” he sighed, pushing his hair back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d sleep,”

“It’s okay,”

“I can’t believe I made you come out to enjoy a movie by yourself,” he grimaced as he voiced his concern, cringing at the thought. “I’m really sorry, I owe you. So much for spontaneity huh? You should have left my ass.”

“Chris, relax. It’s fine; it’s been a long day for you. I sleep through a film all the time,” she waved a hand dismissively.

Still, he felt bad. He had wanted to spend the entire night in her company, (not even in a sexual kind of way) and he had jeopardised that.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said to quickly, avoiding eye contact. “Still half asleep,”

“Okay Sleeping Beauty, shall we go?”

“Let’s,”

The wait outside had been icy and awkward. On Kayla’s part, it was the affirmation that he wasn’t that into her, that kept playing on her. She didn’t know how to act around him anymore; scared to give too much of herself away, even though she was already in too deep with her feelings. She now had to negotiate a healthy balance between being herself, as always but not allowing him to sway her. Or flirt with him.

On Chris’ part, he felt like he had let her down; it wasn’t about the kiss – he didn’t suspect it, it was the fact that he had kept her out all night only to fall asleep. He wouldn’t even blame her if she was offended. He worried she would never subject herself to something like this again; imagining that she thought the worst of him. Had it been a date, would he have fallen asleep? Even worse, he felt embarrassed, and he couldn’t even figure out why. Maybe at the realisation that maybe his life was as boring as everyone was implying; so he asked himself, who would want to date that?

Chris insisted on ordering them an Uber each, but Kayla politely insisted she could get her own. Being the chivalrous charmer he was, Chris didn’t back down easily, but Kayla took the initiative and just booked them both a ride. The drama was unnecessary, this was New York; right in the heart of Manhattan where taxis were aplenty.

But they’d both been cunning; using the Uber excuse to buy more time with each other. As if they had both accepted it was their last goodbye, a closure on the feelings they had harboured for each other. And maybe if they stuck it out a little longer, one of them would bite the bullet and make a move?

“I should give you this,” she said sliding off his coat. “Thank you for letting me wear it tonight,”

“Don’t do that,” he waved a hand. “Take it, it’s cold,”

“There’ll be a heater in the car, I’ll be fine Chris,”

He drew close to her again, politely putting it back on and redoing the buttons she had undone to give it back to him, “Keep it on,”

She sighed, giving in quickly, “Okay, I’ll bring it back on Monday,”

“Okay,” he could careless.

“Here goes your ride,” he squeezed her shoulders as the car pulled up in the waiting bay.

“Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun. And thank you for the dinner, I owe you,”

“Yes, you do. You owe me that Pad Thai,” he winked playfully before hugging her briefly. “See you on Monday, London,”

He opened the door for her, guiding her in with his hand on the small of her back.

“Bye Chris,”

It wasn’t long before the car was circling Columbus Circle, routing back to home. Above all, albeit the anti-climactic theatre ordeal, she’d had a good night with Chris. Far beyond her expectations, so what was it going to hurt if they were only going to be friends?

It was all replaying like a movie reel; the laughter, the touches, the anecdotes and his scent. The way he set his eyes on. The way he listened when she spoke. His scent on her, she breathed it in – his coat a vivid reminder of him. A vivid reminder of the way he would wrap his muscled arms around her and never wanted him to let go.

She suddenly remembered the huge make-up stain she’d left on his shirt and cringed.

The moment was over.

She felt her phone vibrate in her bag; she had ignored it the entire night, never one to be glued to it when she was out. That was a lie, she used to be glued to it; always one to take pictures for Instagram until she got bored of over sharing and instead shared her work on it, occasionally peppering her feed with food snaps, selfies, with her family or a cheesy snap on holiday.

She wondered if Chris would follow her on Instagram…or if she had the balls to follow him first.

She took her phone out, her friend’s Instagram post notification the source of the vibration. She scrolled down on the notification centre, opting to read Lauren’s copious messages that she’d missed earlier on when Chris had joined her at the sushi place.

9:49pm

Lauren: Sorry babe, won’t be making it tonight. I’ve been regurgitating my guts all evening. Have fun.

Lies, Kayla thought, trusting Chris that she was probably entangled under the sheets somewhere with Seb.

9:50pm

Lauren: Oh yeah, I purposely forgot to ask Keith and Tiff to come along. Ooops.

9:54pm

Lauren: Because I lied, I’m not sick. I decided not to come, and thought I’d leave Tiff and Keith out of it too. I thought you kids needed the evening to yourselves and I didn’t want to play 3rd wheel tonight. I do it all the time, not doing it tonight. You kids have fun.

9:55

Lauren: So I hope your inadvertent date with Chris goes well.

10:35

Lauren: ....you’re welcome.

11:01

Lauren: No reply? I’m guessing you’re “playing hide the zucchini”? Thank me later.

11:01

Lauren: ps. safety first kids. Love ya xxx

She shook her head in disbelief; too tired to figure out whether she should be angry or laugh. It was less funny now that she knew for sure that Chris only had platonic feelings towards her. She now needed to speak to Lauren sometime in person, figure out a way to politely tell her to stop bringing Chris up. She needed the closure.

As if on cue, his name popped up on the banner of her screen; a strange sight and brand new occurrence. They had never directly communicated with each other via phone, even though they had each other’s numbers. It was always Lauren that organised non-work related occasions, and if it was to do with work, she dealt with Keith and Tiffany. Never him.

His very first text message to her said:

Chris: Let me know when you get in. Thank you again for tonight; I owe you big time, especially for falling asleep.

Kayla: Likewise. Honestly, don’t worry about it lol

She wanted to shut him down, be dismissive but subtle and polite. She wasn’t going to do this again.

Closure, closure, closure, she chanted in her head.

Chris: I insist. I’m a man of my word.

And just like that, her resolution to get over him disappeared. How could she?

Chapter 5

_______________

Disclaimer: Gif not my own

Tags: @thegirlwithpaperheart @disaster-rose @youlifetime @mississippifangirl @thinemineours @tessathedragon @thottio @caninoona @eratotalles @allonszassbutt @thinemineours@dreamingwithmendes @void-imaginations @daybreak96 @l-auteuse @cliffordasparagus @bumber-car-s @lvlyab@melaninmarvel @milkymil-k @dyckvandyke @prettymuchboodup @i-fear-neither-death-nor-pain @the-doctors-fallen-angel @mariswritingforfun

#Daddy Hair Care #daddy chris evans #Chris Evans #chris evans gif #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #Chris Evans fan fic #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans x woc #chris evans x black reader #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine #Chris Evans imagine

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takemealivelh · 5 years

Text

ONE NIGHT STAND - M.C.

PART 1 || PART 2

Part 3 || 2.7k | | Georgia works in the same hotel 5SOS is staying in. || Date and SMUT || FEEDBACK IS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED

Georgia applied the red-matter lipstick in front of the mirror, the same shade her toenails were painted. It was 4:49 PM.

“I’ll send out a car to pick you up.” Michael had told her. “We’ll go out for a bite and a drink and then we’ll head to Wembley. That sound alright?”

Georgia had smiled big through the sleepiness in her face. “Sounds perfect.”

He’d kissed her cheek, close enough to the corner of her lips to make her stomach churn, and slipped a VIP pass between her hands. “I’ll see you later.” Then he’d headed out for his interviews. Georgia was left with a stupid grin on her lips and a throbbing between her legs that she couldn’t wait for it to be relieved that night.

She let her hair down. It was shorter than a few years ago. She looked radiant. The doorbell rang and she was out the door in the next minute.

The thought of seeing him again, close and all to herself without distractions, had her mind racing and her heart at peace. He had this wholesome energy all over him that was addictive, and Georgia wanted to sip it and let it simmer.

“No way.”

Michael stood up from the booth he had reserved that morning. They were in the same pub they had gone two years ago on their date. This time there was no football game so it wasn’t as crowded, or as loud.

“No way you brought me here.”

Georgia teased him back and kissed his cheek before he embraced her in a hug.

“You look amazing.”

“Stop drooling.” She smirked as they both took a seat in front of each other.

It felt so nice to be complimented, and it felt so great to have the opportunity to get all dolled up for a special occasion. Since it was a concert they were going to afterwards, Georgia had settled on a pair of jeans and a white tee. She took off the black leather jacket and rested it on the empty spot next to her.

Michael looked a bit tired, but better than earlier that morning.

“You want a milkshake?”

“I normally would, but my uniform is feeling tight in some places so I guess I’ll just get a diet soda.”

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have ordered the fries?” He pointed to the plate that was barely touched, in the middle of the table.

She laughed. Michael’s eyes crinkled up. He smiled big, grabbing a few fries and taking a bite.

“I’ll still dance a lot tonight so I guess that’s fine.” Georgia ate a few fries herself and glanced over at the menu that was next to the plate. “Besides, I heard sex is rather physical.”

Michael almost choked at her last words. They’d been barely muttered over her breath.

“Like you wouldn’t know.”

They both smirked at each other.

They laughed for what it felt ages. Until they couldn’t feel their cheeks. Until the tingling between their legs was unbearable. Their banter was intact, even better. Michael wondered how the fuck they had such great chemistry after not seeing each other for so long. It was so easy to talk to her. It was so comfortable to be around her. She was a beacon of light during the winter. Like a snowball fight or a fireplace in a cabin.

Straight from the pub, where Georgia insisted on splitting the bill -so she could feel like the grownup Michael had earlier claimed her to be-, a car picked them up to drive them to Wembley.

There, she finally met the rest of the band. They all made jokes about Michael being smitten all day. And how honoured they were that she finally decided to meet them.

“Two years ago you hated us.”

“We wanted to meet you and you rejected us before even meeting us.”

“That fucking hurt, Georgia.”

Michael rolled his eyes and put an arm around her shoulders, “you know they mock you because they like you, right?”

“Just like you do with me and just like I do with you.” She laughed.

The band loved her.

The set 5SOS played was powerful and all-too-excellent. They were passionate musicians that put hard work into their shows. The crowd was wild.

Georgia danced all the way through the fast songs until she felt like she couldn’t catch her breath. She was thankful for the ticket Michael had given her, right in his side of the stage in the barricade. He looked golden. He was a rock god.

She met him backstage after the show was over and the band took pictures with fans. She waited for him near the exit area, talking to some of the crew members about how great the show was and what were the best places in the city to do tours and go clubbing.

“What now?”

Michael appeared from behind her and touched the small of her back. Her knees weakened.

Georgia spun till she was face to face with him. “Where do you have to go?” She asked.

The members of the crew she was talking to left them alone and Michael grabbed her waist, bringing her closer to his chest. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “just where you are. Not gonna lie, G. I need to have you right now.”

She bit her lower lip and held onto his biceps, feeling his breath grow shallow. “Let’s go back to my place.”

“Okay.”

Georgia unlocked the key to her apartment and as soon as they were inside, she turned on the lights and Michael closed the door behind him. His lips were on hers as fast as lightspeed. He thought that if he wasn’t so turned on by the gorgeous woman in front of him, he would actually take the time to have a look around her apartment, but he was desperate. He had spotted her a few times during the show. How long he had been able to keep it together was a mystery.

Last time, she had been the one in control and now Michael had grown into a more confident man. He cupped her ass with both hands and squeezed it. Her subtle gasp was only a sign to keep going.

Through his eyelashes, he saw the pleasure in Georgia’s face. Parted lips, begging for more. “Take me...” she moaned when his hands wandered over the hem of her jeans, “to the bed.”

Michael looked around and saw a kitchen and a small living room area. That small distraction served as the perfect excuse for Georgia to attack his neck. That beautiful patch of skin she had missed oh-so-dearly. She kissed his jawline and sucked on the sweet spot she had discovered a few years back. Michael suppressed a moan and released it when she whispered, “let go.”

”You like this?” Georgia had asked him as she kissed his neck while straddling him on the motel bed.

“I think you just found my weakness, G. It’s you. You’re my weakness.”

They both had laughed and then Georgia bit him a bit until he groaned out in pleasure.

She grabbed his hand and walked him through the only closed door in the small apartment. Sliding her hands under his jacket and peeling it off, it hit the floor. Michael gulped down at how perfect the whole moment was, how determined her hands were at getting him naked. But he wanted her naked, too. He wanted more control than what he’d had last time. His erection was painful through the fabric of his pants. And she looked absolutely delicious. Smeared lipstick, messy hair, few droplets of sweat rolling down along her hairline. He wanted to slurp all of her in.

“Strip.” He demanded before taking off his shirt and sitting on the bed.

Georgia smirked, biting down on her lower lip. “Okay.” The sight of his naked torso was too tempting not to sink into it. But his tone was demanding and she liked this newfound confidence. Sexy as hell.

She walked over to the sound system she had installed on her desk and pushed a button. “I need music, otherwise it’s just ridiculous.”

Michael laughed. His heart fluttered in his chest. Fuck. He really hoped he wasn’t falling for her. Leaving her last time was depressing enough.

Days went by slow and shows went by too fast. He was missing her, not only her body on top and under his, but her voice and her mind. He was missing her wit, her jokes. It’d taken him a while to get used to the fact that she had been a one-night-stand.

A sensual beat started playing and he was out of his head and into the moment. The way his lover pushed her hair behind her ears, ready to show her skills off struck him like lightning.

Georgia noticed the change in his facial expression. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just take it all off. Please.”

She chuckled and took off her leather jacket. Then swayed her hips from one side to the other and undid the zipper of her pants. Georgia started singing along softly to the song, moving excruciatingly slow, accentuating every move she could repeat on top of him. Michael thought this was either the best thing that ever happened to him or the worst curse of all times.

Her shoes were off and then her pants in a second. Georgia dropped low and raised back up to the beat.

“Enough, enough.” Michael’s skin was burning hot. It was almost embarrassing how little he could stay in his dom-behaviour. He needed to touch her. “This is too much. Come fuck me.” He begged from the bed, palming himself over his pants.

Georgia twirled around and gazed at him over her shoulder. Seeing the hunger in his eyes, his impatient movements, was ecstasy. She pulled her t-shirt over her head, leaving her only in her underwear. She wore a matching pair, red and black, that she had saved for an occasion like this. And thank god it was Michael who was making the most of it.

The undergarments highlighted the small of her waist and the roundness of her breasts and ass. Michael was one second away from pouncing on her.

The song changed to an even slower rhythm and Michael thought he was going to cum right there in his pants. The view was too exquisite, even the friction he was giving himself through the material that covering his erection was enough. “Please,” his tone was whiny and needy.

Georgia’s laugh was breathy, she could feel her underwear wet between her legs. Making her way towards him, she swatted his hands away softly and undid his pants for him. “You waited two years for this, I thought you wanted the show.” She teased.

“Forget it. Fuck it. I wanna be inside you.”

“Undress.”

Michael obeyed like a prey under her eyes. His movements were fast and clumsy, but effective enough to leave him naked in record time. His cock was up and proud. The most beautiful thing she’d ever seen through hooded eyes full of lust.

Never in a million years, Georgia thought she would have him again, begging.

Fuck me. Wreck me. Fuck me, G. Those had been the widely repeated phrases during that night. When she kissed his neck, when sank her nails on his biceps, when she bit his earlobe.

His lips captured hers in a heated kiss, his hands tugged at the hem of her underwear and a single finger travelled down to her core. “Shit, you’re soaking.”

“It’s what you do to me,” she moaned when Michael slipped his finger inside and teased her clit. Her voice mixed with the dirty sounds she made was heaven, and he couldn’t wait to hear more of her. Swiftly, he used his other hand to pull the panties down and Georgia kicked them off as she straddled him. His cock pressed against her bare stomach.

Michael slipped a second finger to her core and used both of them to slide them inside her entrance, which caused her to release a groan. “Give it all to me,” he panted.

She used both of her hands to push his torso up and backwards, so they could lay on the bed properly. His fingers inside of her were driving her insane, and when he slipped a third one, she thought her eyes were going to leave her sockets. “Mmmm.”

Georgia made the prettiest sounds, the most beautiful faces. He couldn’t look away from her reactions. His cock was demanding attention but he needed to memorize every little detail of her pleasure. Michael pressed his thumb against her clit and her jaw dropped, causing her mouth to make an O-shape. She probably tasted like heaven, too. Her breasts looked amazing in her lingerie, but he needed to see the flesh behind the fabric. Needed to suck on those nipples he had missed so terribly.

As if she was reading his mind, with a moan, Georgia unclasped her bra and tossed it over to the side. Melting into him and kissing his neck. On the spot that drove him insane. His erection couldn’t take much longer. He was leaking. “G, please. Fuck me.”

She let out a whiny giggle against his skin and then kissed his collarbones. She moved the hand that was working her out of her core and she kissed the fingertips. Michael watched her in awe. She kept trailing kisses down his torso until reaching his erection. When she licked the precum, Michael jerked his hips and let out a loud groan. “Fuuuuck.”

“Like this?”

“Yeah...” his breath was shaky. His hands quickly found his way to grab her hair.

Georgia licked a long stripe from the base of his cock till the tip, which had Michael’s body trembling violently. He didn’t think he would last long, especially when her pretty mouth kissed him and licked him like that. Especially when she took him in so good and it felt like velvet around him.

“I... fuck, G... I’m gonna...”

Just when he was about to release, she stopped, and he thought it was the cruellest joke ever. But when he opened his eyes and saw her naked, dishevelled hair, lustful stare, Michael only wanted to be inside of her.

“I’m gonna go get a condom.” She announced, almost out of breath.

Georgia kissed his lips passionately and stood from the bed. She could feel his eyes on her as she made her way to the bathroom attached to the bedroom and bent down to open the drawers where she kept condoms.

“Do you want me to do it for you?”

Georgia’s face had been too close to his cock and Michael’s hands were sweaty with excitement and nervousness. He had almost choked at her question alone. So innocently frame behind that sweet tone to her voice, and those pretty eyes looking up at him.

When she sprang back up to go back to the bed, she found Michael, in his full naked splendour, leaning against the frame of the bathroom door. “Let me fuck you against the mirror. I wanna see you from every angle.”

“Kinky.” Georgia smirked and handed him the plastic.

“It’s like you’re surprised.” He laughed as he rolled the condom on himself.

Next thing she knew, Michael had her perched up against the sink, her back about five inches from the mirror and he was lining himself up to enter her.

“I have my own kinks.” Georgia panted as she looked into Michael’s eyes, feeling his presence against her soaking core.

“Tell me.” He said and immediately dipped the tip inside of her, causing both of them to moan.

“Choke me.”

“Whoa.” Michael’s smirk grew widely. “I can get behind that. Then I can get behind you.”

“Then you can eat me out.” Georgia groaned and spread her legs open before wrapping them around his waist, to guide him even deeper inside her. “Deal?”

Michael brought a hand to her neck, right under her chin and jawline. His mouth was almost watering at the sight and the feeling around his cock. “Deal,” he growled.

The End

TAG LIST.

@brown-eyedshell @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @myloverboyash @hopeless-renassianceluke@angelbabylu @5sosnsfw @cal-puddies @cal-pal-cuddles @singt0mecalum @sublimehood @irwinkitten@bloodmoonashton @dweebluke @sugarcoated-pain @rosecoloredash @lashtoncurls@sweetcherrymike @calumspeachy @ashtoniwir @dammitbands @fullmoonclifford @wonderland-irwin@damselindistressanu @ashtonandcalslefthand @mycollectionofnuts @calteahood @rainingcalum @cals-eyebrows @blackbluemichael @ghostofmashton@lockthisheartinchains @bumblebet-20 @h0tsos @allthelightswecannotsee @flannelpunkcalum

#michael clifford #michael 5sos #michael clifford fic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fic #michael clifford smut #5sos smut

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machinequeen4 · 4 years

Text

Fic rec bingo list!

I thought I’d fill out this fic rec bingo card, posted by @lightveils on Twitter!

It sort of turned into the History of MachineQueen in Fanfiction. All you unsung heroes who write and publish fanfic, I love you and remember your names.

Recs for Fire Emblem Fates, Fire Emblem Three Houses, Yu-gi-oh, Doctor Who, RWBY, Ace Attorney, Tales of Graces follow!

1. A fic you love without knowing the source material

Undone - codenamecynic, Dragon Age II, E rated, Fenris/Female Hawke, multichap 135k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/482156/chapters/838851

I know nothing about Dragon Age and can’t remember why I decided to read it. TV Tropes maybe? From what I can tell it’s the events of the game with additional sex scenes. Hawke is witty, Fenris is a tragic broken bird, I was sold.

2. A fic with a premise that shouldn’t work but it does

Trial and Error - undieshogun, Fire Emblem Fates, T rated, Subaki/Takumi, multichap 15k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6890677/chapters/15719992

Not so much a premise but a ship I wasn’t convinced on. But it had Subaki in it so I gave it a try. It’s really cute - Subaki tries to teach Takumi social skills, much to his annoyance.

This line alone is gold star characterisation:

"I couldn't tell you why Tsubaki has taken such a liking to you, but I do know that any time he wants to befriend someone, it's because he sees in them something he lacks."

3. A fic you’ve reread several times

Gratitude - GoldenThreads, Fire Emblem Three Houses, T rated, Hubert/Ferdinand, multichap 8k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344273/chapters/48239686

The writing style is so beautifully layered that I find new meaning every time I read it. The scene where Ferdinand offers a hairpin for each story Hubert tells is gorgeous, one of my favourites to reread.

4. A fic you still remember many years later

A Song I Think I Heard Before - Scribbler, Yu-gi-oh, T rated, Mai/Jounouchi (Joey), multichap 40k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5924028/1/A_Song_I_Think_I_Heard_Before

My favourite Mai fic. This gives her a backstory with Dartz based villainy and recontextualises her relationship with Jou (Joey in the dub, most YGO authors used the JP names to distance themselves from 4Kids’ added cheese). I was on tenterhooks waiting for each new chapter. It’s got real emotional depth, capturing Mai’s cynical nature perfectly. Also I still think about/use the phrase bumblefuck in the morning.

5. A comfort fic

just a little stuck on you (you’ll be on me too) - flowermoons, Fire Emblem Three Houses, T rated, Hubert/Ferdinand, one chap 33k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21875707

This brings the cast of FE3H to the modern world and drops them into reality TV show The X Factor. There’s no war or death angst, just a singing contest. I grew up with The X Factor on TV on a Saturday night so this was a delight. Like me, the author is cynical about reality TV which makes the fic even more engaging. Ferdinand mourning his long hair after he cuts it and Hubert running round London looking for him really made my day.

6. A catharthic fic

Long and Lost - Windian, Tales of Graces, M rated, Richard/Asbel, multichap 36k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5357546/chapters/12372899

Listen game, you can’t spend 40 hours having the protagonist’s motivation as ‘save Richard’ and then pull a no homo on me! In this fic Asbel dutifully marries Cheria only for the whole thing to collapse in on itself when he realises he’s in love with Richard after all. The snow storm scene is something I’ll always remember.

7. A fic you’d like to print and put on your bookshelf

Revival series - MyAibou, Yu-gi-oh, T rated, multiship, many k

http://fanfiction.net/s/2681684/1/Revival-Prologue-Paradox

This is split into multiple parts and has another multipart followup. A continuation of Yu-gi-oh Duel Monsters with shipping and very decent original characters including villains. My polarshipping heart is in love with this scene on the clifftop in part 2 chapter 11 - a slow dance to the sound of the waves to help Mai remember she isn’t alone *melts into a puddle*

8. A fic you associate with a song

Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been - darkrunner, Yu-gi-oh, rated K+, Mai/Jou, multichap 9k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4445992/1/Who-I-Am-Hates-Who-I-ve-Been

It’s titled after a song. This was one of the first fics I ever found, read and loved. I was way too shy to review but I loved this author dearly. Good old angst & hurt/comfort with a happy ending. A happy ending for Mai was all I wanted haha!

9. A fic that inspires you

Patience, Ponies and Pastries - GoldenThreads, Fire Emblem Three Houses, T rated, Hubert/Ferdinand, multichap, 27k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20722859/chapters/49231019

A shipping fic where the two characters being shipped spend most of the fic apart! This author is so good at characterising the pair, there are treasures hidden throughout. I never thought reading about horses of all things could make me so emotional...

And this passage from Ferdinand’s point of view:

As long as Hubert did not truly reject such affection, did not throw him in the stocks for his bleeding heart, then he did not require reciprocation. He required that Hubert be cherished, and that was that.

10. A fic that brought you on board a new ship

Marik and Bakura Go To Censored Town - Little Kuriboh, Yu-gi-oh, M rated, multichap, 24k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6954805/1/Marik-Bakura-Go-To-Censored-Town

I spent most of my Yu-gi-oh fandom life wishing there were more fics about Mai and tended to avoid the big slash ships. However, Yu-gi-oh Abridged’s strongest pair were always Marik and Bakura. When I read this fic I realised yes, Marik being an idiot and Bakura being the straight man (not literally) makes this ship sing.

11. A fic you wish could be a movie

Denial & Deception - Bohemienne, Fire Emblem Three Houses, M rated, multichap, 74k (incomplete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895731/chapters/49671050

The setting of Derdriu is so lushly described that it would make a wonderful movie setting. Additional points for the masked ball chapters!

Hubert and Ferdinand infiltrate the Leicester Alliance using a fake relationship. It goes as well as you might expect. There is comedy, there is romance and the whole thing makes you want to smack Hubert round the face with a fish.

12. A fic that led to you making friends with the author

Past Future Continuous - HermitsUnited, Doctor Who, T rated, multichap 20k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4917490/1/Past-Future-Continuous

We are not in contact anymore but we shared a love of Donna Noble. This shines through in all her alternate season 5 fics!

13. A fic you’ve gushed about IRL

Festering Under Your Skin - Bohemienne, Fire Emblem Three Houses, M rated, multichap 52k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20465312/chapters/48559553

My poor gf had to put up with me going on about this one. Lady Edelgard is dead and Ferdinand is a Blue Lion who spares Hubert. All of this is played for maximum dramatic potential. Special marks for the scene where Ferdinand accidentally poisons himself with Hubert’s coffee. So brilliantly in character for both of them. And excellently foreshadowed earlier in the fic where an imprisoned Hubert keeps asking for his coffee...

14. A fic you associate with a place

Heart of Defiance - battlemage15, RWBY, M rated, multichap 150k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7896874/chapters/18038116

I downloaded this to my phone and read it on the top deck of the number 6 bus as it bumped along the country roads of deepest Devon. I was on my way to job interviews in the city and the trip was 2 hours long. The fic itself is a Yang centric shonen power fantasy that goes to pretty dark places.

15. A fic that made you gasp out loud

Blood and Ink - ShowMeYourFury, RWBY, M rated, Cinder/Ruby, multichap 45k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11754595/1/Blood-and-Ink

This fic is ruthless with Cinder’s villainy. Every time you think she can’t go any further, she does. I love it.

16. A fic you found at the right time

Forward - Lyricanna, Fire Emblem Fates, not rated, multichap, 34k (incomplete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12747516/chapters/29075913

I love the concept of this fic so much. Subaki is selected to be a Hoshidan ambassador in Nohr and gets lumped with Niles as a guide. Neither is having a good time. There is a plot going on involving kidnapping and asassination that forces them to work together.

17. A fic that you would read fic of

The Obligatory Hot Spring Scene - Scribbler, Yu-gi-oh, T rated, oneshot, sub 1k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6368612/1/The-Obligatory-Hot-Spring-Scene

Written as though the characters are actors and canon is a TV show. I love this concept and would read more in a similar vein

18. A fic that made you laugh out loud

Surrender To Your Peace - spiralpegasus, Fire Emblem Three Houses, M rated, Sylvain/Felix, one chap, 11k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20757260

“This is very unfortunate,” Dimitri says with a frown. “As the leader of this mission, I will take full responsibility and use the Swamp Bedroll.”

One does not simply sacrifice themselves to He Who Saw The Bottom Of The Earth And Lived with such a cavalier attitude. “You know your guilt complex doesn’t actually have to extend to sleeping in a gross swamp bag,” Sylvain tells him disbelievingly.

“I agree, Your Highness,” Dedue says, setting He Whose Stench Haunts The Dreams Of Man down on the ground with a delicate sort of distaste. “None of us need use this… bedroll.” He says bedroll the same way he says food when it’s Flayn’s turn to cook.

19. A fic with a line or two you’ve memorised by heart

one sentiment enlightens to another - newamsterdam, Fire Emblem Three Houses, G rated, Hubert/Ferdinand, oneshot 6k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21074840

Ferdinand rolls his eyes. “Of course I do, Hubert. I remember very well. I just— well. Perhaps I’ve overestimated you.”

Hubert, who has spent the better part of the past few weeks believing he constantly underestimates Ferdinand, bristles.

Not the exact lines but I always keep this in mind when writing the ship. I think these hit on the fundamental misunderstanding between the two characters. Hubert is only human, not some all powerful hero/villain. And Ferdinand isn’t stupid just because he’s honest and emotional. I think the two of them have trouble getting their heads round these concepts!

20. A fic that gave you butterflies

Ataraxia - Windian, Tales of Graces, T rated, Cheria/Pascal, 13k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7828981/chapters/17871247

"I want you," Cheria tells her, and the night catches like a rubber band. Her hands are in Pascal's hair, Pascal's arms around hers, her mouth on hers. Their kisses are sloppy and messy, noses knocking against one another, but it's everything and it's nothing at all like kissing Asbel.

When they break for air, Pascal tells her, "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this, Cheria."

Cheria asks, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I dunno Cheria, because you were gonna marry Asbel, maybe?"

It stops her in her tracks. Voice low, she asks, "What am I going to tell him?"

Pascal cups either side of her face. Kisses her, so hot and hard that Cheria's left seeing stars, clinging at the strings of Pascal's swimsuit like a shipwrecked sailor to a spar.

"Screw it. Think about it in the morning. For once in your life, do something you want."

21. A fic that embodies something you value in life

The Truth About Love - MistressAkira, Fire Emblem Fates, T rated, Niles/Subaki, 2k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12036081

This fic is experimental in style - the author descrbes it as a soliloquy. The sentiment I take from it is that love is compromising, inconvenient, illogical. Yet it’s still something beautiful and something worth fighting for.

22. A favourite AU

Mobius - SirTeateiMoonlight, Xenoblade Chronicles, T rated, multichap, 17k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17845748/chapters/42111473

Melia finds a copy of Xenoblade, plays it and knows exactly what’s going on in the story. She uses this knowledge to her advantage. It’s a slippery slope. By the end of the story she’s mercilessly torturing Lorothia against her brother’s wishes.

23. A fic you’ve stayed up late to finish reading

Dirty Sympathy - ideny, Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney, M rated, Klavier/Apollo, 130k on AO3 not sure on kink meme

https://bludhavens.livejournal.com/88397.html?thread=41790541#t41790541

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075868/chapters/2160789

I stayed up reading this until 4am and for some reason (probably tiredness) confessed this to my not-yet-gf. She cites this as one of the moments she fell for me!

It’s a dark fic in which Klavier and Apollo are both in abusive relationships with villains. They concoct a plot to implicate the two of them in criminal activities to escape and fall for each other along the way.

24. A fic that made you feel seen

i knew you were trouble - Magepaw, Fire Emblem Fates, M rated, Niles/Subaki, 8k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19314568

First of all the title is one of my favourite songs. Second of all the dialogue is everything I want from the Niles/Subaki ship. Third Subaki’s pegasus makes her presence known. Fourth there is a gory battle scene and hurt/comfort gone wrong. And fifth, a happy ending.

Niles had to turn away, hand pressed to his mouth, before his own blush betrayed him. This was too good to last. This had to be the most embarrassingly vulnerable moment of his entire life, and of course the entirety of the Nohrian and Hoshidan military combined had to be there to see Niles go soft.

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