#speed running political success baby

[todderwodders]

👾!

Ahhh, If I Were You, a Faline song that lets us peak into some of her worst traits and preoccupations, chiefly: thinking she can do much, much better then the people already in charge taken to the enth degree.

It’s split between being genuine in its intent (wanting the world to run in fairer terms) but also rife with an ego trip a mile wide. She will be making decisions, it’s just a matter of biding her time and waiting for the right hand to fall - dancing on the edge of passivity and action as the city moves about its days and she goes from being a Baldurian upper crust source of entertainment to a real player in the Absolute game. Could she go without the head worm? Yes. Will she make it work? Oh, yes.

Tl;Dr she wants to be someone sooooo bad. “I take things away from stupid, evil old men/women.”

[thosearentcrimes]

20th March, 1861, London

Our protagonist, Étienne, is a Radical lately exiled from France for his revolutionary views. Today Étienne is seething about the bizarre theories of his fellow Londoner revolutionary emigre, Karl Marx. Oh sure, human society does progress linearly through stages, that's obvious, everyone knows that. But it's not because of accumulation or material conditions or whatever. Of course a guy who reads and writes about political economy and capitalism all day thinks all of politics is just political economy and capitalism. The French Revolution could not have happened until the late 18th century? Nonsense. The French Revolution couldn't have happened until the Enlightenment, sure, but the Enlightenment could have occurred sooner. All of the timing is just a historical accident, a matter of waiting for the right crisis in a country of the right (French) temperament and a Great Man or two possessed of the right concepts. You see, Étienne is very much an Idealist.

Étienne is a smart and well-educated man, and so a sympathetic acquaintance has managed to secure him a respectable position as an assistant curator at the new Museum of Manufactures in Kensington, and he quite enjoys his daily walk to work through the Kensington Gardens from his new home in one of the nicer streets of Paddington. Despite his intelligence, however, he is not a cautious man, which is how he ended up in London in the first place. Today it would have paid to be cautious. George F Train, a man of rather similar temperament to Étienne, has recently set up a tram line running along the north edge of Kensington Gardens. Étienne is crossing there at this very moment, too absorbed in his pondering of historical forces to notice the people yelling at him to stop or the carriage speeding towards him. He is pronounced dead at the scene.

???, Paris

Our protagonist, Étienne, has just been born to Isabelle Barbou, wife of the clothier Simon Marcel. How this has happened, or how it is possible, is not known to the author of these words. All that is known is that Étienne the son of the clothier Simon Marcel is very much the same person, with the same memories, as Étienne the aforementioned assistant curator. His first act, in his second (and yet preceding?) life, is quite characteristic for the newborn body he now occupies. He cries. For several years, as any baby does, he will compose himself. Étienne, however, is not getting used to the existence of the world, but rather to early 14th century France, a task by no means easy for a man used to the conveniences of 19th century urban life and goods.

12th June, 1315, Paris

Étienne had been fairly quick to orient himself. Easily he discovered his name and identity, though his knowledge of its meaning was rather hazy as his recollections of medieval history were not the best even when he was first alive. He was supposed to be some sort of traitor? That fit well enough. It took him longer to get a precise handle on the date. Even if he had been able to discern which Roi Philippe people were talking about and which Flemish Revolt they were discussing, he did not remember the precise years. Eventually he snuck enough peeks at contracts to be confident that the clustering of dates around 1311 roughly reflected the then-current year.

Étienne's first thought had been to prevent the Hundred Years War. Sure, tensions between the Kings of England and France were already high and unwinding those antagonisms would not be possible, but if the looming succession crisis of 1328 could be stopped the intensity and length of the warfare could be reduced and the repeated threats to French independence could be headed off entirely, and history could be advanced by up to the century otherwise lost to pointless war. Sure, the French people would be denied the glorious symbol of Jeanne d'Ar- hm. Was Jeanne someone like him? Were there others in his own new time? Well, that was a worry for another time.

It was the Tour de Nesle affair and the death of Philippe IV that prompted Étienne to seriously review the idea of preventing the succession crisis, and which eventually led him to dismiss it entirely. How was a young cloth merchant in Paris, whose father was not even all that rich or prominent, affect the family relations of the Capet family? Even if he were the fournisseur des draps for one of the princely houses, how would a wise choice of fabrics help? No, there really was no prospect of preventing the crisis.

Already since first hearing of the Flemish revolts, Étienne had been idly fantasizing about an alternative approach. Instead of preventing the crisis, he could take personal initiative and advance history by a great deal more taking advantage of the crisis. The Valois would certainly need to call the États Généraux to finance the war, and if he could get there Étienne could start rerunning the events of 1789. Certainly he would not be able to prevent the emergence of the Empire, likely he would not make it to a Republic, but perhaps he could give France (and by extension the world) a bit more of a head start.

Étienne's questions, rather odd even for a precocious child, got him the answers he needed. The elected position most likely to be invited to the États was the Prévôt des Marchands of Paris. Some modifications to the events of 1789 would be necessary, there was no Bastille to storm (storm the Louvre instead? or build a Bastille and storm that?) but in principle he had everything he needed. A crisis, the Parlement de Paris, a meeting of the États Généraux. Doing anything like this just one century earlier would have been much more difficult.

[hqshine]

Greeting them at the airport

timeskip! characters: Atsumu, Bokuto, Hinata, Suna, Kageyama

genre: pure fluff

a/n: drop a ask if you have any questions about me ^

— Bokuto

In all state of nervousness, you began wandering around the waiting area. There were many fans, supporters and relatives of the MSBY volleyball team. Like them, you were waiting to spot your loved one amongst the crowd.

Bokuto carries his backpack using one shoulder, his free hand running through his hair which he had forgotten to gel as the excitement of seeing you again consumed his thoughts for the past few days. The team exits the plane, bowing to the plane staff in thanks and politeness.

Music playing softly through his earbuds as his eyes darts throughout the waiting area, and finally meet yours. The moment is surreal, it’s been almost 3 months since he’d left for the international games and not one single day passed without him missing your scent, your touch and just—you.

He dodges the crowd of people, rushing towards with his arms open and face in delight. His heart is pounding and he catches you easily as you jump into his welcoming arms. He carries you by the thighs, snuggling into your neck and whispers “i love yous” in repeat.

You tear up at the familiar warmth that finally surrounds you, not caring one bit about the people around you. You sweep his bangs carefully before slamming your lips against his.

It was passionate, warm and filled with love. As he places his forehead against yours, panted breathes leaving his mouth, “Did you see me out there baby? I did you proud didn’t I?”

— Atsumu

Atsumu’s hands are playing with the hair tie he stole from you before leaving for the overseas games. His heart is slowing speeding up at the thought of finally being able to hold you and see your smile after several months of intense training and away games

The moment his eyes lands on yours, wrapped up in his hoodie and oversized sweatpants, he’s racing past the crowd and the press. He’s panting as he reaches you and scoops you into his arms.

His eyes glistening as he swirls you around like there was no one else in the world except you. Your giggles were pure music to his ears and he continues to smush your face into his chest like a baby. His baby.

“I missed ya, so freakin much. Now gimme my kisses, love ya so much doll” He grins, tucking your face beneath his neck and enjoying the sensation of finally having you back into his arms

— Hinata

Hinata was restless. The away games and intensive training was a success as team returned back to Japan with victory.

But his whole being missed his home, the warmth of family and most importantly, you.

Your kisses, hugs, your scent and everything about you. For so long he wanted to reach across the facetime video call to pull you in and cuddle with you.

He had to focus on the movies in front of him on the plane, nerves finally reaching the maximum as the plane announces of its destination in Japan.

He couldn’t wait to see you again.

He rushes towards the waiting area and as Hinata’s eyes land on yours, he speeds up, running towards you and caught you midway.

The two of you giggle out, he pressed kisses against your face while you hid in his neck forgetting about the crowd that formed from fans and the press

Hinata places you back on the ground gently, pressing one final kiss to your crown. “I’m back babe, did you miss me? let’s go cuddle now”

— Suna

He looks extremely calm but is probably having a mini heart attack. Words can’t describe how much Suna has missed you over the past few months of training and matches.

He takes pictures of anything and everything that reminds him of you during his trips and he finds it hard not to book the next flight home to just hug you whenever his heart aches for you.

So as he finally gazes upon you in the waiting area, a rush of warmth and familiarity washes over him and he couldn’t help it but to rush over to you and twirl you around.

Your scent surrounds him and the giggles let out reminded him that you were finally here, in front of him, in his arms.

“Hi pretty, did you miss me?”

— Kageyama

probably the most excited to finally see you. He loves volleyball, but overtime he finally realised that volleyball isn’t his life. You, were his life.

He missed everything, the morning cuddles, the cooking together, the movie marathons. He missed you, dearly over the past few months

His hands fumbled carelessly with his bags and items, rushing to meet you at the waiting area.

And when he sees you, time stops and it’s just the two of you. With his bags dropped to the ground, he rushed to you and scooped you into his arms.

He nuzzled into your shoulder, face blushing madly as he pull away and notice everyone staring.

“tsk—let’s get out of here i want cuddles and milk”

[silverdelirium]

this is kind of a mix of eras butttt if you’re comfortable, can you please write a draco and tom threesome?

GUESS | D.M X T.R

warnings: threesome, oral sex, blindfold and handcuffs included, light degrading

———

they were watching you.

watching you like a hunt watches its prey.

they analyzed your every move, the way your hips swayed to the beat, how your friends would sometimes join, but they payed no mind to them, their focus was on you.

draco and tom shared a look through the flashing lights, one that said; whoever gets there first, has her.

they both speed-walked towards you, almost knocking out the sweaty bodies of random people, their complaints blurred with the music, making the males oblivious to their wrath.

you gave a small look up when two bodies approached you, towering you.

“oh- hi draco, hi tom” you greeted, their figures clear considering you barely drank anything. tom gave you a small smirk, running his eyes down your body shamelessly.

draco narrowed his eyes at him but still gave you a polite smile. you observed how they both opened their mouths at the same time.

“would you like to dance?” they chanted together, throwing scowls at each other once they finished.

you stood there with a puzzled and shocked look on your face, amazed at the fact that two of the most attractive slytherins in the school just offered you a dance.

if i had to pick one, which one would i choose? you debated in your thoughts, never really prepared for this type of successions.

both.

their bickering got cut off by a small clear of your throat, signaling that you wanted to talk, tom’s and draco’s head snapped to your figure and they immediately shut up.

“do i really have to choose? or can i take both?” you suggested, tone different than the one you had saluted them with before.

they seemed to catch up on it; and this time, instead of glaring at each other, they both made eye contact with smug smirks adorning their features.

“and wouldn’t you like that, princess?” drawled tom in a teasing manner, hand reaching up to move a strand of hair behind your ear, which were burning hot at the action.

draco snickered and got behind you whilst tom’s palm stayed on your cheek, irises calculating your every move, including your harsh swallow.

the blonde’s hands roamed your waist, giving your hips a light squeeze and hissing lowly when your bum pressed on his hard-on.

he leaned down to your ear and whispered, “my dorm or his, beautiful?” watching as you shivered but still mantained eye contact with tom, who was intently staring as the conversation flowed.

“whichever” was your eager reply not even a second later.

tom gave a small chuckle and shook his head lightly, yet still gave draco an inquiring raise of brows. you assumed draco nodded, since he took your hand and dragged you all the way up to the stairs, tom behind you as you entered his dorm.

there wasn’t even time to appreciate the room, a certain blonde’s lips already on yours, a heated kiss forming that you immediately accepted.

“calm down, mate” snarled tom, pressing himself against your backside and forcefully turning your face to meet his, a similar kiss forming.

draco only scoffed at the action and bent down to kiss your neck, sucking on certain spots, creating dark purple hues.

you were the first to pull away from the kiss, breathing heavily through your mouth while draco continued to attack your neck, tom’s hands now focused on getting his shirt off.

malfoy pulled back a little to look at your already disheveled form, swollen lips and frizzy hair.

“get on the bed for us, darling” he ordered, mimicking tom’s antics and taking his shirt off.

your feet carried you to the bed, sinking down on the middle while your head lay against the soft pillows. the corner of your eyes caught a peak of tom reaching inside his drawers, and almost as if he was sensing your stare, the mysterious object went behind his back.

“you sneaky little girl” he murmured, a small smirk planted on his face as he leaned down to kiss you while removing the straps of your dress.

you hummed into the kiss when you felt, what you presumed, draco’s fingers disregarding the rest of your dress.

tom broke the kiss to press kisses on your chest, fingers going behind your back, silently asking to arch it so he could take your bra off, and you obeyed.

it was at that moment when your eyes finally landed on the blonde who was now only wearing boxers, winking at you while he took of your drenched panties, throwing them behind him.

the brunette, disconnected his lips from your body completely, finally revealing what was behind his back.

handcuffs

your eyes went slightly wide at the object, immediately picking up on what they were gonna do.

“arms up for me, gorgeous” he spoke, tone low.

your arms followed his orders in blind submission, resting them against the headboard.

draco’s eyes caught yours as tom cuffed your wrists to the bed, immobilizing your arms. he gave you a devilish smile as he locked eyes with tom, giving him a nod, not giving you time to decipher anything as he dived his head down your sopping cunt.

a moan left your mouth involuntarily, tom coming besides you, both males with only their underwear on.

he stroked some hair out of your face and made a path with his hands to your breasts, another high-pitched moan coming from you when he rolled the nipple in his fingers, while draco absolutely devoured you.

his tongue lapped up at your juices, humming every once in a while; his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. his darkened eyes stared up at your figure that was now a moaning mess, he could almost chuckle at how fast the night had turned out.

it was like being on cloud nine, the way his tongue worked inside you, absolutely dining on it.

as he continued to devour you, tom leant down to crash your lips together, drinking down all of your noises. your moans continuously spurted out onto his mouth whilst your thighs shaked, orgasm approaching.

both of them seemed to notice this, so tom leant down and disconnected your lips, putting his on your nipples instead.

that did it for you.

you didn’t even have time to warn them, you cum was now being eagerly tasted by draco who could’ve easily cum too at the sight of you.

once he finished riding out your high, he rose up from his position, cock throbbing due to the lack of friction.

tom copied the blonde’s movements and got off your chest.

now, the both of them towered over you, staring down with a mischievous grin. you gulped harshly and switched your stare from one to the other.

“take the handcuffs off” spoke tom, order directed at draco, yet eyesight trained on you and the tone he used sent shivers down your spine.

draco leaned over you, keeping eye contact as he undid the restraints, your arms going limp at your sides.

he gave a chuckle at this and scooted back, grabbing your ankles and pulling you more to the edge of the bed.

tom seemed to caught onto what draco was doing and gave him a smirk, reaching for the drawer he had picked the handcuffs from.

your head was turned to him, curiosity peeking inside you. but draco wasn’t having any of that.

he roughly grabbed your face and turned it to him, connecting your lips to his, his tongue finding its way inside your mouth in an instant, grinding his hips into yours, evoking a small moan from you.

“easy now, malfoy” grunted tom from above you, causing draco to give him a stern look and a roll of his eyes.

tom gave you a teasing smile as he held up a silk blindfold. “this okay with you, pretty girl?” he asked cautiously.

your eyes shined with desire as you stared at the material, mouth slightly agape. “mhm” you hummed in agreement, adding a small smile for reassurance.

“good girl” taunted draco, grabbing ahold of his boxers and dragging them down. you only managed to take a peak of his lower v-line; tom was already placing the blindfold on your eyes, tying it behind your head.

“now, gonna let us use this pretty pussy baby?” teased tom, fingers tapping your soaked cunt twice. you gave a small moan as a response, your body jolting at the sensitivity.

“fuck yeah we are” grumbled draco, hands digging into your waist as he harshly turned you around, ass on display for their hungry eyes and hard cocks.

you whimpered as your tits collided with the mattress, yet your pussy was already dripping in anticipation. “once we’re done with you, you’re gonna have to guess who’s fucking your little hole and who’s fucking that blabbering mouth.” hissed tom on your ear. “if you get it right, we’re fucking you until you’re begging us to stop. you get it wrong and i’ll make sure you’re edged for a fucking week” he finished.

you couldn’t help but let your mouth fall open at the suggestion, senses heightening as you heard the shuffle of clothing and two big hands bringing your ass up until your back was perfectly arched.

“little whore, look at you, puffy pussy in the air like that” murmured draco from beside you.

you suppressed a moan at the comment, burying your face down on the sheets, only for it to be yanked up by an unknown force.

they didn’t even give you time to gasp, your mouth being filled by a thick cock in an instant.

draco positioned himself behind you and rubbed your ass prior to completely bottoming himself inside you, a moan almost escaping him. but he held it, for the sake of whatever silly game they were playing at.

you gave a loud moan against tom’s cock, though you were still unsure on who was doing what. but slender fingers wrapped around your hair, a signal to keep going.

so you did, quickly recollecting yourself and bobbing your head up and down, not that you needed to do much except hollow your cheeks, the force of draco’s thrusts sending your head down on him.

the blonde kept his hands on your ass, roughly rocking his hips back and forth, watching as your head continuously moved up and down on tom, who had his head thrown back, mouth agape and eyes closed.

draco reached down to rub your clit, not slowing his hips once. tears brimmed at your eyes at the sudden feeling, your own body unconsciously fucking itself back on draco, while your tongue focused on the tip on whoever was down your throat.

as draco completely rammed himself inside you, tom’s orgasm was around the corner, with the way you swirled your tongue around the tip, the involuntary jerk forward you gave whenever draco gave a hard thrust, plus the vibrations of your moans did it all for him, he looked down at you as he came, biting his lower lip in an attempt to keep his identity a secret.

you breathed hard through your nose as you felt cum shoot down your throat, the whole load almost choking you as you swallowed it immediately. a small whine leaving you once they removed their softening length.

yet this was more of a relief to you, your moans now spurting out freely as spit dribbled down your chin, feeling tom’s or draco’s fingers rake through your hair.

“i’m close!” you moaned out in a desperate tone, thighs shaking as a slight tap came down on your bum, and assuming they gave you permission you came with a small shout, breathing raggedly.

draco was right behind you, drawing out your orgasm while sloppily thrusting as his seed went deep inside you.

once you both climbed down from your high, you collapsed down on the mattress, blindfold still on as you felt the rustle of sheets, blinding light appearing out of nowhere as tom disregarded the blindfold, smug grins on both of their faces as they took in your fucked-out state.

“now tell us who was fucking what, baby. show us how much of a smart girl you are” ordered draco, hands soothing down your back.

a nerve-wracking feeling hit you. you had absolutely forgotten all about their little challenge, you were too caught up in pleasure to even remember what you were supposed to realize.

“i-i don’t know” you admitted, lip trembling when their expressions hardened, almost as if disappointed, and considering the state of mind you were falling in; it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“well let’s try again and see if you can get it right this time, hm?” suggested tom, dragging the blindfold back up.

———

draco 🏷: @spencervera @methblinds @marrymetheonott @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @turn-to-page-394-please @fredshufflepuff @malfoysbiitch @saggyb1lls @helleli @metaraxia @daddybutmakeitagirl @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @fleursbabe @riddleswh0r3crux @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @steveharringtonswhore @dracosafety @dracoscum @riddleswh0rekrux @laceycallisto @slytherinbabess @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog @harrystellastyles

tom 🏷: @methblinds @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @malfoysbiitch @saggyb1lls @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @daddybutmakeitagirl @steveharringtonswhore @citrusdarling7 @riddleswh0rekrux @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog

[kookiessugababy]

Unzip (Park Jimin) // 18+ nsfw!!

Warnings 🚨- daddy kink// thigh slapping//spanking//slightly rough//hickies//

-> scenario: after a terrible night meeting your father for the first time in years, your best friend Jimin makes it his job to help you alleviate your upset.

Hope you enjoy <3

*****************************************************

His hoodie hung off over you- emerald shards of your silk dress appearing below the hem. Both damp and uncomfortable the rain poured upon the two of you. Running in the desolate street with frozen hands grasping one another, giggles erupting from his lips as he pulled you along. Apartments shone a purple glow upon the pavements- illuminating the puddling water. You watched him with delight as he tugged you, an overwhelming sense of happiness flooding out the rain.

You had met with your father for the first time in years over a polite dinner at a fine restaurant- him paying the expenses. The experience had been awkward and confining, with every expression showing disgust as you exchanged your lifestyle with his. For the first time in years, you had felt so uncomfortable in a place you loved- and with his angered complexion as he watched you gloat about how wonderful you found your new life you felt the need to escape. Despite his morals, moving to Seoul was the best decision you had ever made, quickly making best friends with a customer going by the name of Park Ji-min within days of your new cafe job. Later finding out he was somehow part of a globally successful music group, Jimin had introduced you to his band members who had grown very fond of you- now spending almost every moment messaging or seeing them. Your relationship with them was rather spontaneous, thinking about it. Very sudden, almost strange consider their status- but you would never change it for the world. Problems often lay between you and your wealthy father - your alternative lifestyle regressing his attempt to make you thrive in the business world. His filthy rich fingers had only came to tousle with your “getting along” lifestyle you were portraying to him over a plate of Daeji Bulgogi- but you were fine. In fact, the rain was thrashing your face and you were beaming at the boy pulling you along- fits of giggles erupting from your mouth as the movie like scenario lulled you into a state of euphoric bliss showed him you were more than fine. Street lights were a delightful blur at the moving pace, water splashing your legs with each step- your apartment appearing to sight as Jimin turned a silhouette around the corner.

Fumbling for your keys in Jimin’s jumper, you unlocked the door to the warm air of the room, damp fingers searching for the light switch as you both continued to giggle. Catching your reflection in the hanging mirror, you inspected your soaked hair, makeup dripping from your face and dress sopping. “Lemme help you out of that, y/n” Jimin offered, his hands moving to the hem of the jumper. It was slightly stuck as he peeled it from you, laughing as your face scrunched against the uncomfortable fabric. “I’m sorry about tonight” Jimin resonated, balling up the fabric as he tried to sympathise with you. It felt unnecessary as you stood watching him in the yellow glow of the light- a now opaque shirt sticking to his toned chest - defined features staring at your own. You shook your head and smiled thankfully- “I appreciate you meeting me so late!” You chirped, laughing again slightly as he kicked off his water filled shoes. “You know where I am y/n. How about we get you changed?” He replies, taking your hand in his own. Yup shivered on his touch- the unfamiliar intimacy almost surprising you as he guided you through the corridor.

Swinging your legs, you perched on the edge of your bed watching Jimin make his way around your room- filing through cupboards and drawers to dress you. He was humming a familiar tune as he spun around, handing you a large hoodie and some shorts. Smiling, he passed them to you as you thanked him yet again for his kind help. Rising from the bed, you felt followed by his eyes- your dress pressed to your figure with water- exaggerating its fit. The tension was thick and foreign, and unable to put your finger on it you questioned him. “May you help me unzip my dress?” It came an almost quiet mutter of embarrassment at your inability to undo it, but his keenness was evident by his gentle fingers snaking to your shoulders. They carved a line between your neck and back, eventually reaching the delicate zip. Like glass he touched you, carefully and sensually- pulling it down slowly. His index finger trailed behind, painting your skin with shivers. The fabric slipped past your legs with ease, laying in a pool at your feet- leaving you exposed in nothing but a small thong. Deafening silence echoed through his burning stare- your spine heating as he ran his hands down your sides, taking in the curves of your hips. Suggestively, they wandered down to your ass, staying there. His touch was a strange sensation- the previous absence of this desire pulsing an urge through you. “Jimin I-“ you stuttered, him shushing you almost immediately. Watching the wall, you heard him step forward, his hips now against your ass; “Hush, y/n”

Replying with a nod, you pressed your lips together as he mumbled something inaudible. The closeness of his cock made your clit pulse- his erection now pressing against you. Burying his face into you, his nose pressed against your neck- breathe steady as yours hitched.

Seconds felt like minutes, hot air whispering against you and tension only rising. Kissing sliced through the warmth as he nibbled your neck, dotting pecks all over your shoulders. Groaning lightly, his cock twitched against you. Uncertain yet sure, you pushed your ass towards him in a blatant reply, tilting your head to allow him greater access. “Mmm. You’re fucking beautiful” he groaned into your neck, a squeak rising from your throat as he nipped your skin with his teeth. Greedy hands searched your ass, squeezing and kneading your body- teasing as he treat your shoulder blades with his pouted lips. Your stomach flipped as he touched you in such way- the innocence of your friendship unzipped in a ball on the floor. Your heat grew wet as you considered his next move, fingers now grasping the string of your underwear to drop them down your thighs. Giving him more to tease, his hands slowly slid down the back of your thighs to touch your dripping pussy. Moving even closer, he stroked his finger across your slit- collecting juices from your arousal. Whining at the sensation, you bucked your hips as it vacated. Holding them to your mouth, you inspected his soaked fingers which only turned you on more. Glancing back to him for reassurance, you took his fingers into your mouth- sucking and cleaning the arousal from them. Hissing at your soft tongue wrapping around his fingers, he harshly pulled your hips to his swelling erection closing the remaining space between your bodies. You could feel yourself grow needy for him as you stood naked before him- saliva running from your mouth as you continued to suck. Skilfully, his other hand busied itself undoing his belt. As if a routine, he removed his garments with little movements- his cock slapping against your ass as your mouth remained occupied.

Needing some attention to your core, you began to grind against his cock as you muttered his name into his hand. “It’s daddy to you, baby” His low voice almost finished you on it’s own- the words sending you into a moaning mess. Suddenly, he thrusted into you- his cock filling you up with a new sense of urgency. As if he was too desperate to wait to allow you to adjust, he grasped your hips with harsh fingers, arching your back with arms pressed against the wall, and pounded into you harshly. The position he stood in give him an advantage to hit your spot continuously, sloppy sounds echoing through the room as he moved in and out of you. Slapping your ass, you moaned at the sting he left behind, his balls hitting upon the new red mark. “Baby let me hear you scream for me” he groaned, a slight grunt leaving his lips as his head fell back. With weak legs, you allowed your filthy moans to escape your mouth- his name spilling like ink, sinfully writing upon the walls. “You’re so tight y/n” the boy groaned, burying his cock as far as he could before thrusting yet again. Needing more, you begged for him to go harder- even if it felt impossible for him to do so- your heat almost numb at the speed. “H- harder daddy please I ne-ed more”

Your mouth was dry as he continued, unable to withhold a single sound as spanked your ass yet again. Every word you spoke was broken as he continued to guide your hips against his cock. Your walls felt tight and your stomach clenched as he twitched inside of you- circling your hips with avarice as he continued at his merciless pace. Spilling himself inside of you, his warm cum filled up your hole- drilling from you as his movements turned sloppy while he rode out his high. Before you could cum, he pushed you to the bed directly behind the both of you- your breasts bouncing at the force. “Fucking look at you. Look how hard you still have me.” he groaned, before lying himself on the bed next to you. You glanced at him in confusion, but before you could inquest- he interrupted your thoughts. “Sit on my face y/n. I want to see that pretty pussy drip all over me.” Gracefully moving your way over, you straddled his face as the warmth of his breath matched your heat. His nose pressed against your clit as he pushed his tongue insatiably inside your hole. Flicking his tongue at the entrance before diving further, he played with your wetness as you couldn’t help but grind against his face. Your back arched as he continued, humming into your crotch. With every movement you made, your clit gained friction from his nose. You watched as his hands gripped your thighs, holding them apart to give him accession. His dominance over you startled you slightly, having never seen him in such lustful state. Eyes squeezing shut, your back arched yet again as you came all over his face- the twisting of your stomach causing you to scream his name in pure shock. Heavily breathing, your bare chest rose as you dismounted him- watching his fingers lap up your cum and licking them clean. The sight made you flush crimson - his pretty features messed with your desperation. “So fucking pretty y/n. You taste so fucking pretty.”

Glancing down at yourself, marks coated you in a shirt of crimson- your thighs and ass bruised alongside hickies decorating your shoulders and neck like jewellery. “Oh y/n I’m sorry I should have asked” Jimin panicked, his hair now slightly messy after the previous events. Shaking your head in solace, you smiled and rested yourself upon his bare chest. “Would you like to stay over Jimin?”

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[candychronicles]

bodyguard // s. todoroki

A/N: my take on the rockstar/band/performer au for bnharem! i’m not a big fan of au’s normally but this one was a lot of fun to write! todoroki is definitely ooc in this one but i took a lot of liberties with his character in order to better fit the au storyline.

CHARACTER PAIRING: Todoroki Shouto x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,091

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, gore, fighting, death, oral sex (f!receiving)

SYNOPSIS: you were in it for the money, he was an unhinged popstar. how could you two ever possibly get along?

want to read more rocking stories? click HERE !

the days at work were tiring, the nights even longer, but the pay was good and it was always satisfying to make a grown man cry as you knocked him to his knees and manhandled him away from your client.

Todoroki Shouto, one of the elite, the famed, the rich, and absolutely fucking annoying. sure, he was hot (anyone with an eye could see that) but he was just like everyone else in his industry: a cocky bastard. you didn’t mind his lifestyle too much except when it interfered with his job, like having to pry off whiny people who clung to him like their life depended on it, and for some, it probably did.

his biggest claim to fame was being in a now wildly famous band, namely the main singer. he was charming with a sultry voice and a personality that oozed confidence but he wasn’t always that way. in fact, he was originally a shy, anxiety ridden teen when he first joined, not sure how to use his voice or deal with people coming up to him in the streets. the life he lived was sheltered before that, training under his dad to take over the family business, but when sweet, innocent Todoroki confessed that he much rather be artsy and sing at the age of sixteen, things quickly changed for him. his father, Todoroki Enji, tried to convince him otherwise, told him that he didn’t know how the real world worked and that he would never be successful, but Shouto wouldn’t budge and eventually Enji caved in, or so it seemed.

Enji immediately enrolled Shouto in lessons, instructing him to shape up or ship out. if he couldn’t become successful in the industry, he would take over his father’s business instead, but that didn’t happen. Shouto excelled in lessons, blowing his instructors away with his timbre and control. he was a natural, and frankly, good enough to be a star. they weren’t so concerned with his stoic yet endearing personality. they had broken enough pop stars, molded them to be perfect model citizens, so what was one more?

the plan backfired immensely. as Shouto’s talent grew, Enji seeked out the biggest in the game, convincing them to give his son a chance at stardom. while reluctant, the board agreed, not wanting to piss off one of the most powerful men in Japan but were thoroughly surprised at the fact that his kid didn’t suck at all. in fact, he was actually good, really, really good.

they signed him immediately, whisking him away into the life of fame and fortune at the young age of seventeen. his range, the slight rasp to his tone and the ability to reach into somebody's soul and pluck the very feelings they try to hide so deeply from it’s depths pushed him towards the life of a rockstar. the freedom he had never been able to experience living at home pushed him over the edge and spiraled him out of control.

Todoroki drank, smoked, and fucked his way through cities big and small, getting himself into a lot of trouble along the way. the behavior went on for years, only getting worse as time went on. nobody seemed to be able to get control over the boy with the pretty hair and wild scar. after almost killing several women and one of his bandmates in a drunk driving accident, his team, label, and most importantly his father had enough.

the conversation between the two did not go well. Shouto was now an adult, legally free and clear from his father’s power. he had his own money, enough to live comfortably for awhile, even if he dropped the band, and all of the repressed rage, longing and anger that was pent up from his childhood. he was not stopping his lifestyle for anyone. that was, until you came along.

you were always a scrapper, getting yourself in trouble more times than you could count. it was just in your nature to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves and you spent many days on the playground beating up the bullies who picked on the sweet girl braiding flowers into her hair, or the boy who liked to play with baby dolls instead of trucks.

as you got older, your fights got fewer and farther in between, at least when it came to the public.

when you turned sixteen and kicked some kid who was trying to look up your skirt so hard in the chin that he saw stars, you were approached by a few men who slid you a card and told you if you wanted to make money fighting, come meet them.

you were a dumb kid and instead of running in the opposite direction and telling the police, you showed up at the seemingly dingy door behind the alley of a fairly run down ramen restaurant. knocking on the door and rocking back on your heels, you waited to see what would happen. it took a few seconds before a panel slid open, allowing you to see nothing but someone’s eyes peering at you in the mid-afternoon sun. hesitantly, you raised the business card in your hand, showing it to the person and jumping in surprise as the panel slammed shut and the door creaked open, inviting you in.

you nodded your head politely at who you realized was a rather bulky, burly man, before a woman dressed in a silky black dress plucked the card delicately from your hand and led you through the hallway. when she opened the door, you were taken aback by the scene.

people of all shapes and sizes stood cheering as two rather muscular men fought in an arena across the room. spit and blood flew across the floor as the two pummeled each other over and over again before one tapped out, the other man raising his fist in the air in victory. you stood, gaze fixed on the scene in front of you, blood racing at the thought of you being in the ring.

“addicting, isn’t it?” the woman whispered in your ear, a knowing smile on her face before she gently took you by the sleeve and guided you away from the screams and shouts into a private room that was much quieter.

you sat down in front of a man who was rather tall and thin, graying hair across his head and a clean shaven face.

“so, i heard you’re a good fighter. how good do you think you are?”

“uh-” you stuttered, not sure how to respond, “i think i can kick someone’s ass if i have a reason to.”

“is money a good enough reason for you?”

“money is a nice reward, yeah, yeah it is,” you confirmed, not pondering the question over for a second.

“good, you start on Saturday. come in comfy clothes that you won’t mind getting sweaty and dirty in. you’re my new ace, a secret weapon. give it six months time and you’ll be defeating guys like that out there in seconds.”

and defeat you did. over and over again, men, women, anyone who thought they were better than you were defeated by your own fists. you worked hard and then some, through literal sweat, blood and tears, to reach the status of champion of the underworld by the age of eighteen.

you were a wild card, unpredictable in your stature. you didn’t have hulking muscles and a sturdy frame, but what you did have was speed, the element of surprise, and the ability to calculate in a split second, all of which allowed you to defeat your enemies time and time again. this relative victory didn’t come without your share of sacrifices: hiding the bruises, blackened eyes and bloody lips from your family as you trained relentlessly, having to figure out a way to manage the steady flow of income that started coming your way as you fought in your first official matches, defeat after defeat as you trained, chipping a tooth and having it promptly filled in like nothing happened, having to learn how to disarm and fire a gun, work with knives and most importantly, losing a bit of your empathy along the way.

it came as no surprise when people who were much more powerful and much, much richer started taking an interest in you, placing large bets upon your head at some of the higher staked matches, a feat you worked your way up to after many years. you never failed to disappoint, knowing that these fights were the ones that mattered the most, the ones that brought you, and your boss, the biggest pools of money.

it was at one of these fights on a dreary, rainy night that you met Todoroki Enji, a hulking man that failed to intimidate you. you were used to people his size and bigger thinking he could take advantage of someone like you and it only made you chuckle thinking of how easy it would be to have him on his knees in seconds.

“i’ve made a proposal to your boss that he couldn’t refuse. he said he couldn’t and wouldn’t force you to do anything, but since you’re quite motivated by money, i think you’ll be intrigued by my offer,” he started, sitting down next to you in one of the VIP booths, sliding his business card on the table with a sly smile.

you were interested and entertained him, listening to him ramble about his shitty kid and his bad behavior. amused, you sipped on your drink as you absorbed his rants and whines about the negative reputation his kid was creating for himself, how he abused his freedom and power to the fullest extent and how his life was spiraling out of control.

“what does this have to do with me, exactly?” you finally questioned, setting your drink down and turning to face him, eyes met squarely with his own.

“i’d like to hire you to be his personal bodyguard.”

“sounds like he needs a babysitter, not a bodyguard,” you retorted, getting ready to stand up and move away from this blathering idiot.

when he spit out a number so outrageous, however, you sat back down, now thoroughly intrigued by the situation at hand. satisfied that he had your full attention, he went into details, laying down a fairly thin stack of papers in front of you as you listened to every detail.

“so let me get this straight. i’m to be his personal bodyguard, keep his shitty behavior a little more under control, whip him up into shape sort of situation. that’s it? and i’ll get paid that much for being a glorified babysitter?”

“you will have to protect him, of course. there are some crazy fans out there that climb windows, seduce themselves into his bed, stalk him, chase him down, but i don’t think it’s anything that, with your expertise, you can’t handle.”

you continued to ponder the situation before gesturing him to continue with his story. he rambled for another moment or two before picking up the papers and going over them with you: standard non-disclosure agreements, a detailed list of your job description and a contract agreement that he was subleasing you through your boss.

after a few minutes of reading the contracts over and discussing them with your boss, you agreed to the scenario, locking yourself into what would be a rather entertaining six months.

the first time you met Todoroki, he instantly tried to hit on you, but when his hand lowered down to grab your ass, you had him on his knees with his left hand behind his back before he could even blink. after that encounter, your conversations were curt. he knew what you were here for and he wasn’t about to let you get his way.

what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be so relaxed about the whole situation. he still drank, still partied, fucked almost whatever girl or guy he wanted, but anytime things got too out of hand, you stepped in, firm but gentle, guiding the crying groupies out of his bedroom after their time was over, driving him every time he got too drunk, cutting him off from any supplies when he was getting out of hand and most importantly, keeping him safe during his travels.

he never realized how much danger he was always in until you mitigated the problems with ease. he just assumed that being assaulted on the daily was something that came with being in the public until you broke some robbers finger when they tried to swipe the wallet out of his own back pocket. after that, he almost clung to you like a koala on a tree anytime he was out in public. you provided stability in a time where he was drowning in his own worries.

that didn’t mean he was ever nice to you though. in reality, he was actually sometimes meaner to you, the simple fact that some girl could be stronger than him set him off, always feeling on edge around you. you weren’t necessarily quiet, offering up any and all small bits and pieces about yourself that he ever wanted to know, but he never really knew you: not your last name, where you were from, if you had any siblings, parents, where you went to school, what your job was, who you were on the inside. it bugged him like crazy to know what your favorite color was and that you liked cheese on your ramen but not anything important, anything he wanted to know.

you liked to keep it that way, however, and would stay as friendly yet aloof as possible. this was a job to you, a job that would set you up easy for awhile and gave you a break from fighting for the most part. you wouldn’t admit to yourself that you liked the man more than you would’ve expected. you felt the way he clung to you as fans swarmed him, the way he always looked to you in reassurance as you walked the streets at night, hearing his sobs in the shower, sobs that were so broken and confused. it showed to you a side of him that was vulnerable, that showed emotion.

he broke down towards the end of your stay, realizing a little too late how much easier it was for you to do your job when he was cooperative and nice. in fact, he began to be more open about enjoying your company and spending time with you. it made it harder for you to continue with your job knowing you were falling for the pretty rich boy, for the man you were hired to protect, for the man who looked at you like you could do no wrong but vehemently would deny it. you began enjoying the little moments with him, the stolen glances, the laughing. you didn’t know what changed in him but you were glad he was someone you could get along with. underneath that crazy exterior, he was just a guy who wanted a friend.

your six months came up relatively quickly. it sucked that your cushy job living in five star hotels, eating decadent meals and working out in state of the art facilities would be over soon but you felt yourself getting lazy, weak and losing your rather sharp edge. it was time to get back into the grind and despite your heart panging at the fact that you would leave the pretty boy with the angry and sad heart behind, you were ready to go.

your last night of work consisted of the final show in Tokyo. tens of thousands of guests were set to attend what would be the bands biggest concert ever. you were calm, cool and collected as always, but the singer, not so much.

he spent the day pacing back and forth, warming up his vocals, hydrating himself, stretching and generally doing his best to calm his nerves.

in a rare act of affection, you reached out to grab your hand with his own, looking him dead in the eye and telling him that this night would be one he would remember forever; and you were right, just not for the way either of you thought.

the show went amazing, the crowd loud and receptive, the choreography flawless, the singing perfect. Todoroki ran off stage with the biggest smile he had ever seen and in his own rare display of affection, twirled you around with ease, adrenaline still pumping through his system.

you congratulated him on the great show and waited patiently for him to remove all the makeup and his costume. he emerged a little while later, hair flat against his head, wet from the shower, sweatpants and an inconspicuous gray hoodie donning his body. you bid a pleasant farewell to his bandmates before escorting him back to the car. he had requested that you drive him back to the hotel and spend one final night in the comfortable hotel beds before you headed back to your hometown.

when you arrived, however, things felt quiet, a little too quiet, and the hair stood up on the back of your neck.

“Shouto, you need to get into the driver’s seat right now, turn on the car and lock it. do not let me in until i tell you to. do not get out of the car, okay?”

he began to question you but before he had a chance to argue, you were pushing him out of the way as a knife sliced towards him, figures cloaked in black emerging from the shadows.

one, two, three, four.

you counted out the four assailants as you shoved Shouto against the car, prompting him to unlock and scramble in through the back seat. only when you heard the click of the lock did you breathe a sigh of relief and begin your attack.

the first man with the knife was tall and lanky, using his height to his advantage, trying to overwhelm you, but with a quick kick to the back of his kneecaps, he went tumbling onto his knees. now shorter than you, you were able to control him by grabbing onto the top of his head and slamming it into the ground, effectively knocking him out.

one, two, three.

the next man thought his muscles would save the day, but his size lacked any true speed, and you were able to land fingers to his eyes, a punch square to his nose. a quick chokehold and he was knocked out against the concrete as well.

one, two.

they both came at once, knives flailing in the air as they sliced your way. one managed to gouge out a chunk of flesh in your arm but you paid no mind, too focused on the task at hand as you grabbed the knife with your hand and used the other arm to knock into their elbow, making them loosen their grip enough to let go of the blade that you then embedded into their shoulder. the other assailant took your distraction to swing the knife your way and as you were trying to dodge the serrated edge, used their other fist to swing up into your chin. you felt your teeth chatter against each other, blood mixing with saliva as you bit your tongue. spitting, you slammed your hand down against their wrist, grabbing the knife with your hand and yanking, not caring that it sliced into your palm as you flipped the weapon around to shove it into their abdomen.

with both men distracted, you slammed your fist against the car door, telling Shouto to quickly unlock it so you could get in. when you heard the telltale click, you instantly dove into the backseat, yelling at him to lock it and drive as fast as he could back to the hotel. he did as he was told with an eerie calmness to him, backing out and around the attackers that were attempting to survey the damage that had been dealt to them.

once you had made the relatively quick trip back to the hotel, you hurriedly jumped out of the car, telling Shouto to carry his own bags so you could be on alert if anything were to happen, scanning each and every corner for a possible other attack. thankfully, everything was safe as you made your way into his hotel room.

you dropped him off quietly, not even attempting to walk into his room, but only fifteen minutes had passed before he was knocking on your door, a first aid kit he had gotten from the front desk securely tucked under his arm.

you let him in without a word, locking the door behind you and turning to face him. before you had a chance to ask what he was doing there, he had dragged you into your rather grandiose bathroom, sitting you on the steps leading up to the jacuzzi tub and pulling out the contents of the kit onto the floor.

he began by assessing the damage to your wounds, cleaning and disinfecting them before wrapping both your hand and arm rather efficiently.

“i had to wrap a lot of my own wounds as well as my siblings. dear old dad let the temper get the best of him sometimes and it wasn’t always so pretty,” he explained, teeth clenching together in an attempt to remain calm.

“thanks for this. i’m sure they’ll heal just fine,” you replied, not wanting to put him in a situation where he had to talk about his troubling past.

“you could’ve died protecting me today, you know?”

“that’s my job Todoroki. i was hired to protect you, i protected you, and i’m fine, thank you very much. this is not my first fight and it definitely won’t be my last.”

he sighed, rubbing his temples as he sat down on the marble floor in front of you, holding your wounded hand in his own, tracing the fabric that surrounded your palm.

“i recognized one of the cars in the parking lot. it was a company car, one of my dad’s cars to be precise. i know they can seem relatively inconspicuous but i memorized every car my dad ever had, big or small. it was definitely his car.”

you mulled over his words for a moment before sighing yourself, slumping against the stairs as your head rested against the rim of the tub.

“your dad sent those men, huh? that’s why you were so eerily calm driving away. you knew you weren’t really in any danger, that those men were secretly there to kill me,” you finally concluded, anger boiling deep within the pit of your stomach.

“yeah, i think they were. i don’t think dad is too fond of the fact that you and i got close. i-i like you a lot more than i let on, i’ve told him so. i thought that would make him happy, knowing i have someone in my life that i could rely on and trust, but he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control you after these six months were up, think he wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“wouldn’t be the first time i’ve had a hit out on my head. this one, however, is probably going to be a lot tricker to deal with.”

Shouto sunk deeper into himself, body shaking with rage as he saw the fight flash in his head over and over again.

“i’m going to protect you. if you want to, that is. i’ll sign you on as my own bodyguard, however much money you want. i’ll be by your side always, make sure that nobody tries to kill you, tries to hurt you like that again.”

“i can fend for myself Todoroki.”

“it’s Shouto. and why won’t you let anyone else take care of you? listen, i know i’ve been kind of an ass but i thought we were at least friends, and yet i know nothing about you. i know your favorite color, your favorite animal, that you like sunsets and the rain and snuggling under comfy sheets at the end of the day, that your eyes sparkle when you get a chance to fight but secretly crave peace and comfort, but i don’t know who you are. your name, your story, why you’re really here.”

you heaved as you sat back up, staring him straight in the eye to find no malice, no anger, only confusion, empathy and maybe even a bit of longing. so you told him, you told him everything: who you were, what you were, where you grew up, about your childhood dog and all the scraps you had as a kid, how two strange men in suits approached you and groomed you to fight at the age of sixteen, how it was the only thing you knew how to do, the only thing you were good at, how you scared yourself sometimes because you enjoyed the pain that came with the fights. he sat there watching, eyes wide and unblinking as he absorbed every word you said, every bit of pain and anxiety, of longing for someone to love and understand you, of not having to fight all the time, of wanting to be vulnerable for once.

“let me take care of you,” he declared, standing up and outstretching his hand towards you, helping you up from the cool tile, hand coming to rest behind your head once you had steadied yourself.

he leaned forward, unsure and hesitant, before placing his lips against your own, soft and gentle, tasting of mint chapstick and coffee. you were unsure of yourself, awkward, full of aches and pains, wanting so badly to let go but never wanting to get hurt.

“it’s okay, you’re safe with me. let me take care of you, please.”

that was all it took for you to open up, looping your arms around his neck as he led you back to the bedroom, careful to not run you into anything. your knees hit the back of the bed and you reflexively tensed up, like a deer in headlights.

he shushed you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, heeding the bandage and wound underneath. you laid back after that, body attempting to relax as his hands ran themselves soothingly over your body, across your breasts, the flesh of your stomach, your thighs, the corded muscles in your calves, slipping your shoes off, your socks, kissing every inch of your body along the way, making sure you were comfortable. you shimmied out of your pants, your tight shirt, bra, underwear, finally bare for him to see, scars, bruises, all the imperfections of your life.

“so, so beautiful,” he murmured, taking his time to kiss every single blemish and scar that you had, wanting you to feel his dedication.

after what felt like hours of soft kisses, his thumb came to rest on your clit, rubbing in quick and precise circles, fingers gently parting your folds to press into your body, back arching at the feeling of him already.

“it’s all about you tonight, okay? just relax, let me show you how much i appreciate you.”

and appreciate you he did. he dropped to his knees, nose nuzzling into your pubic bone as he kitten licked your clit once, twice, three times, testing your reaction. you whined and squirmed at the feeling, already overwhelmed by his fingers lazily dragging in and out of you. you wanted, needed more, but Todoroki wouldn’t hear any of that. you deserved to be treated right, treated gently tonight, to allow your worries to melt away, if only for a few moments.

his fingers began picking up pace, pistoning in and out of you, his fingers curling in all the right spots, fists clenched into the downy comforter as you attempted to ground yourself from the overwhelming situation. his tongue worked against your clit, changing speed and pressure, trying to find what was the right combination to set you off, watching your every move intently as you squirmed around on the bed. before he even got a chance to get into a routine, you were already cumming over his fingers, creamy liquid coating the digits.

he hummed in contentment, pulling his fingers out to lick up the syrup, you watching with your pupils blown wide.

you went to sit up, body aching from the adrenaline of the fight, but he pushed you back down into the plush bed, tutting as he settled his head against your thigh, kissing, sucking and biting along the plump flesh, leaving little marks only he would know about.

his tongue began lapping at your clit again, this time harsher, more in tune with what your body wanted. you clenched your legs around his head, fisting his hair with your good hand as you tried to ground yourself yet again to reality. his velvety tongue felt like heaven against your body, coaxing moans and sighs out of your mouth. you felt your second orgasm hit you like a freight truck, tingles running up your spine. you tried to push his head away but he only held your body down, a frighteningly feral look on his face as he continued to lap against your clit, unrelenting in his pursuit to pull orgasm after orgasm from you.

after, two, three, four more highs, you couldn’t tell where one began and one ended, he was finally satisfied, pulling his face away, chin glistening in the dim light. your eyes were teary and red, overwhelmed by everything he had put you through. you had never been more satisfied in your life, and by the look on Shouto’s face, he knew it too.

your eyelids began to droop and your body relaxed into the mattress as you came back down into reality. Shouto shuffled around the room before settling you into your bed, tucking the sheets around your body and propping your head against your pillow.

he was enamored by your, by your story, how you opened up so willingly to him after tonight. nothing would get in between you two now. he was just starting to truly know you, know the real you, and nothing was going to stop him from wooing you until you were his, not even his father., and if her life was ever threatened again by him, well, Shouto would just have to kill Todoroki Enji.

[berettajane]

Done Measuring, Ladies?

Pairing: Roman x Reader

Word Count: 921

Summary: You started dating Joe after his divorce with Galina. After a PPV, Joe comes backstage to see you standing with Galina and Jojo. Galina wants to clarify boundaries.

A/N:  I do not own the picture used! 

Joe smiles as he sees three of his favorite ladies in the world heading his way after his match.

“Daddy!” Jojo screams, running full speed towards her father. “There’s my baby girl!” Joe chuckles, catching her as she jumps into his arms.  He takes a second to set his things down before hauling her up for a bear hug. You and Galina smile at the pair, watching him switch from Roman Reigns, back to Joe.

“How’re you feeling?” you ask him, reaching up to pull Jojo’s shirt down to cover her back, rubbing it lightly before you step back to hear his response. “Like I got hit by a Mack truck,” he answers, turning his face back into Jojo and snuggling with her.

You feel Galina lightly touch your arm, nodding her head down the hallway.  Your eyebrows furrow, but you follow her anyway. You know this is to give the daddy-daughter duo time together, but she also has a reason for pulling you out of his earshot.

“What’s up?” you ask, crossing your arms with a feeling this may not be a friendly conversation. “Listen, Y/N, I understand that I’m the ex-wife in this situation,” she holds up a finger when you start to interrupt.  “I know this may not be comfortable, but I just want to make sure we’re on the same page when it comes to Jojo.” You nod for her to continue, listening to what she has to say before jumping to defend yourself again.  “You will be spending time with her when she’s at Joe’s and I get that; I want you to understand that she is a child and that she doesn’t need to see anything inappropriate from the two of you, and that she is not to be treated like she’s ‘the ex’s kid’.” “Galina, she does not get treated as ‘less than’ when she is with us, I can assure you.  She is Joe’s princess and he will do anything for her at the drop of a hat; that little girl is his world, and she comes before the both of us, as she should.  I always include her in our activities, and make sure they are age-appropriate.  We show affection in front of her, but nothing more than pecks, hugs, and hand-holding.  We do not play grab-ass in front of her, and we never will. She hangs out with the family and she has been welcomed by mine.  We treat her as one of our own; that includes protection, Galina. She is not just my boyfriend’s kid; I treat her as if she is my own,” you hold your finger up to stop her when she opens her mouth, “with the understanding that I am not a replacement for you.  I buy gifts and necessities for her, help her with her homework, read her bedtime stories, have her help with chores, and discipline her when necessary,” you explain.

“You disc--” she starts, immediately defensive. You hold up your hand to interrupt her. “I correct her and help her understand polite and respectful ways to do things and handle unpleasant situations,” you clarify.  “She gets put in time out, electronics get taken away, she has to eat her veggies before she gets a cookie. I am not just the girlfriend , Galina, and I am not here to take advantage of Joe, by any means.  I grew up in this industry; his money and fame mean nothing to me and do not affect how I live my life.  We agreed to keep our money, professions, and properties separate. I will do everything I can to make sure the relationship of the three of us adults goes as smoothly as possible because of Jojo.  Please understand that I feel no ill-will towards you. I didn’t ask what happened between the two of you, and I don’t need to know. Let’s be women about this and raise this little girl to be a strong, intelligent, successful woman; that’s your goal, isn’t it?” you finish, with a raised eyebrow and a hand held out in her direction.

She raises her own eyebrow, looking down at your hand and back to your eyes.  “Do you agree to communicate openly and freely with me as I do with Joe about anything regarding Jojo while she’s with you and tell me about any issues, no matter how big or small, and not to go against either of our wishes regarding how our daughter is to be raised?” she asks. “Absolutely,” you nod in response, “As long as you don’t block me out, you discuss any issues you may have with me with me, and don’t treat me as some side-piece bimbo that’s hanging all over him and mistreating your daughter.  This is not Cinderella .  Agreed?” “Agreed,” Galina says, finally shaking your hand.

You hear Joe’s heavy bootsteps coming up behind you, you release Galina’s hand to turn towards him with a smile.

“Done measuring, ladies?  We’re hungry over here,” he says, putting Jojo down and watching her run down to start her hug-fest with members of the roster while he heads to the locker room to wash up. “You hungry?” Galina asks, turning towards you after watching Hunter pick up Jojo and swing her around. “Not as hungry as she is, I’m sure,” you smile.

The two of you walk down the hallway, exchanging stories of weird things this child has decided to eat, the enormous amount, and where she must put it all.  This might just work out.

Masterlist

AO3: BerettaJane

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Homecoming - 2

This is the continuation of this prompt.

Lin/Tenzin, pre-canon AU, 2 of 2, T, completed.

----

“Hello?” Lin’s yelling was paused when the phone rang.

Tenzin’s continued words of apologies and evasion of flying folders and papers were cut short when Lin had to answer (irritably) the ringing phone. He bent over to pick up the scattered things, while listening to the one-sided conversation he could hear.

“Nothing’s wrong here. Of course not – yes, he is here.” Lin rolled her eyes. “There is no domestic disturbance at my address, I don’t know where that report even came from… Well, if they want to arrest someone, why don’t they arrest him?” She threw him an irritated look. “He is trespassing, isn’t he?”

At this, Tenzin frowned at her and dangled the house keys.

Who could she be talking to at this time of the night? Which police officer is responding to the call?

How can he be trespassing when he actually had keys? And as far as he knew, he lived here, didn’t he?

She snapped her fingers, asking him to hand over the keys.

Oh, damn he is screwed.

Lin leaned back at the headboard. “Okay, fine.” She placed a hand on her stomach. “I’m sure my blood pressure is fine… Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow… Love you too, Mom.”

Tenzin felt his stomach turn to lead.

If Lin reacted this way to him, Toph Beifong could do much worse.

And all because – at least from what he gathered from Lin’s invectives earlier– Lin’s letter informing him of her pregnancy did not reach him.

When the earthbender had suitably calmed down, Tenzin cautiously approached the bed with her paperwork. She was eying him with distrust.

At least she had stopped shouting or throwing things – so I count that as a win.

To his surprise, Lin offered the phone to him.

“Tenzin!” Toph’s gruff voice greeted him. “I don’t care what your excuse is but for tonight, make sure she relaxes. She’s on bed rest –.”

“Bed rest!”

Toph continued speaking as though he did not just interrupt her. “So, make sure she takes it easy and does not overexert herself.” She sighed. “You know what I mean, Airhead. No bedroom activities for the two of you.”

---

After a relatively painful call with Toph (where he was alternately scolded, reminded, threatened and advised), the airbender finally addressed the earthbender who was sitting in bed, protectively cradling her pregnant stomach.

“So,” Tenzin rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re having a child.” He sat the edge of the bed cautiously.

“Are we?” Lin asked back in challenge. “As far I know, you seemed to have washed your hands off of us the moment you left to fulfill your airbending duties.”

“No – I would never –,” He reached out to hold her hand, tightening when her grasp went limp. “You – the both of you – are my priority. Please don’t doubt that.” He looked straight into her eyes, trying to convey the truth behind his words.

Only their breathing can be heard for the next few moments.

“You never replied – I thought – we thought – you were gone. Then the acolytes responded and said you were there… I thought… you didn’t want it. You didn’t want…” Lin cleared her throat. “You were so pleased about being able to finally go around the temples. Having a child – well – I wouldn’t put it past you to stay behind because of responsibility, even if you didn’t want…”

At that point, her tears fell. This was the side of Lin Beifong that only few managed to see – one that was more human than her public persona allowed her to be. He was one of the few who she allowed to know about her insecurities and her fears.

Both of them had been raised in the public eye and they learned early on that their actions will be dissected by the press. They learned to be guarded – but not with each other.

Her mother had tried to protect her as much as she could but Lin learned the truth anyway. That her father had abandoned only remained with her mother as long as he could only due to a sense of duty to the unborn child. That when the opportunity came for him to jump ship, he did so without a backward glance.

Tenzin knew this was what was going through her mind with their current predicament.

He knew that words at this point would not mean anything to her as he pulled her into an embrace, letting her tears drop on his robes.

Tenzin knew he would do his best to reassure her.

---

The next few days were spent getting up to speed with Lin’s pregnancy. He wanted to know it all – how were her check-ups, what is the gestational age, are there any food or drink that she is not allowed to eat, etc. After that first night, Lin became apprehensive about what Tenzin thinks of fatherhood; she did have several weeks to get used to it but Tenzin, apparently was learning about it just now.

It seemed like she need not have worried, however, as the man reveled in it.

Katara had laughed at that, fondly saying that Aang is the same for each of their children.

To be fair, Toph had snorted, he was like that for all of the children born within their circle of friends, remembering that Aang was over the moon when Toph started showing with Lin.

---

Tenzin did not think the rest of the pregnancy would be spent in peaceful waiting if the succeeding days were a precedent as to what to expect.

It had been embarrassing enough to have his mother extract a promise from him to refrain from intercourse (“Stop cringing, Tenzin. If you’re old enough to be a father, you’re old enough to use the clinical term.”) in the next few months due to Lin’s delicate condition.

It became worse when Lin’s mother dropped by to bring in paperwork from headquarters. The older metalbender could not resist but comment about flighty airbenders doing the cut-and-run. That definitely did not do well to assuage Lin’s doubts.

His own father would likewise come by almost daily, bringing all sorts of food for Lin. Lin would graciously thank him and accept the gifts but would often ask him that he did not need to bring anything over. The Avatar would wave her concern away and say he was bringing over materials that Tenzin would need to work on anyway. Lin subtly implied that he need not stay in Republic City and he could go back to Air Temple Island to do whatever he needs to do for the Air Nation. This made Tenzin all the more adamant to work remotely from the house.

It also seemed like both of the Avatar’s sons took on the same anticipation and excitement in welcoming a child as Tenzin discovered that Bumi had taken to sending a knitted piece to Republic City every few weeks or so. Never mind that there were only so many bibs or bonnets a baby could use.

Their family, however well-meaning, tended to barge into their life – always checking in, always dropping by, always present.

Lin, being the well-mannered lady that she was, took it all in stride. While she would have previously scowled at her mother’s narratives or kept a polite face at his mother’s coddling, Tenzin saw her have a genuine smile at her face at their visits.

It was only one afternoon that Tenzin realized why.

He thought that they were simply falling into a routine when he came back. However, it became apparent to him that he was the one who has not yet assimilated into the established routine. With a pang, he realized their family had done what he should have been doing in the first place in supporting Lin in her pregnancy.

---

It was not quite the same home he had left.

Being away for months made it challenging for the airbender to reintegrate himself but he did manage bit by bit.

---

Lin really disliked being on bedrest. She had never been one for idleness, but she saw the necessity in taking it easy. She was determined to bring the child up to term and Lin Beifong is not anything but determined.

Nonetheless, this did not keep her from occasionally complaining; she did not like being dependent on others after all.

“I’m sorry Lin – but healer’s orders.” Tenzin handed her a book she requested; she was put out when he did not let her get out of bed and she had to wait for him to get it for her.

She thanked him though still with a frown on her face.  

Tenzin settled himself beside her in bed as they were wont to do before bedtime, taking out his own book to read. “Mother said you’ll likely be removed from bed rest in a few weeks’ time. Your mother did not have to go on extended bed rest and managed to work at the station back then. So mother is hopeful for you.”

Lin sighed and leaned back, lightly flipping through the pages of her book. “Well, that’s my mother. Unfortunately for me, I inherited the body type of my grandmother.”

They knew how difficult it was for Poppy Beifong to carry a child to term. As much as Lao and she wanted another child as a sibling to Toph, it had not been successful.

She saw Tenzin pause, recognizing the moment he understood what was not being said.

In true (and expected) airbender fashion, he did not address it head on and simply turned to focus on fluffing her pillows.

“Well, if you’re going to stay in bed much longer, we’ll have to make sure it’s a comfortable stay, right?”

She merely tilted her head in agreement, thankful that he did not push the issue.

---

Lin did not know what to expect from Tenzin when he said they will make the extended bed rest comfortable.

He arrived home one day with a lot of paper bags.

She had thought Bumi was ridiculous in sending a lot of baby clothes, but this did not even compare. Lin found Tenzin guilty of a shopping spree – his were of a complement to Bumi’s bibs and bonnets in the form of onesies, mittens and booties.

No matter, she thought, as she lightly fingered the texture of one of the green onesies, it pleased her to see Tenzin excited about the child.

---

As the weeks passed, Lin was able to finally convince Tenzin that she would be fine at home during the day with the staff and that he need not curtail his own activities.

During the day, after all, the household staff that Toph hired for them to clean and cook was around and could easily assist Lin with her needs.

The airbender still spent most of his time at home, working and keeping her company. But at least, his company was no longer limited to her and their family. Hopefully, Lin thought, it would keep him from being bored and restless.

She was pleasantly surprised when he arrived home on that first day.

He had been listening to her when they talked about food she missed and likely craved for. She was thankful for the food that Aang brings over and the food the chef cooks, however, there is only so much she could take of healthy and bordering on bland food.

Tenzin had gone out of his way to the other side of the city to bring home her favorite steamed buns. Steamed meat buns, that is. None of the vegetarian mush he enjoyed himself.

---

It became their ritual – whenever Tenzin goes out, they were sure to have a dinner that consists of Lin’s favorite foods.

---

“You keep eating more of that and we’re calling our baby Bao.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Doesn’t Bao Beifong sound nice?”

A pillow hit Tenzin in the face.

---

“Thanks, kid. Excellent paperwork as per usual, loved your penmanship.”

Lin rolled her eyes at her mother’s odd humor. She took the folder her mother brought in exchange for the reports she had completed. Before her mother leaves, Lin usually makes sure she had scanned through quickly the paperwork so she could ask questions if she has clarifications.

“There was a meeting earlier at City Hall.” Toph often shared with her about her workday. “I suppose you were the catalyst for this.”

“What? I don’t even get to leave the house, never mind the bedroom,” Lin felt defensive, thinking that Toph was about to blame her for something. “How can I have caused it?” She continued to go through the paperwork.

Toph clicked her tongue. “They’ve selected an air acolyte as the representative to the Air Temples.”

That got her full attention. “But Tenzin’s the current representative.” She put down the folder on her lap and turned to her mother. “He did not mention he was quitting.”

“He was not quitting per se, he would be still part of the Air Nation’s council staff – just not the one who would need to frequently travel around the temples.”

---

She was floored.

She never asked that of him.

The airbender had been talking about air temples and all things air nomad from they were kids.

Giving up this particular role – this is huge.

And if it was because of her – them – she corrected, rubbing her stomach, it was significant.

---

He did not bring it up that night.

She thought he would have done so the first thing he got home.

But he did not.

---

She brought it up two nights later, unable to keep the curiosity out of her voice.

The why hung between them.

He simply smiled back at her, his hand joining hers as their baby kicked.

“I know my priorities.”

---

The next day, she hands him back his keys.

Then maybe, he feels hopeful as he tightens his fist around it, maybe this is what it really feels like the beginning of a true homecoming.

-----

Note: And that’s that. Thoughts around it? Thanks for reading :)

[joshjacksons]

Joshua Jackson interview with “Irish Independent”

It was during a childhood visit to his granny’s house in Dublin’s Ballyfermot that Joshua Jackson smoked his first cigarette.

“My memories of those visits to Ballyfermot are quite sweet really,” the Dawson’s Creek actor recalls. “I was always running around with the neighbourhood kids, getting into trouble. Not bad trouble, just little-kid trouble. Although, technically it’s where I smoked my first cigarette, so that in itself isn’t the sweetest memory.”

Jackson’s handsome face surges with deep laughter lines and quiet dimples at the mention of mum Fiona’s home turf. “She might prefer I’d say she was from Chapelizod”, he jokes, before proudly pinning his mum’s allegiance to “Ballyer”.

Was the young Canadian treated like a shiny, exotic object by the local kids? “I was a bit, but I became less exotic the older I got. Culturally, I was so far away from an Irish kid but in a little pack of children, everyone finds their level. It also helped that I had my own cousins, my own blood, around with us. I had that family connection so I never felt too exoticised.”

An entry on his IMDb profile suggests his late grandparents Rosemary and Patrick were opera singers in Dublin, indicating that performance runs in the genes. The actor seems unaware. “Mum tells me they used to sing to each other a lot. My grandparents lived in council housing with a little kitchen out the back, garden right outside, and they would sing to each other through the window as he was out pottering about while she was cooking.

“But he was known more as a snooker shark around Ballyfermot. And my grandmother, she was known as a sainted mother of seven.”

Having welcomed his first child, Janie, with his wife, the actor Jodie Turner-Smith, last year, it’s obvious family is paramount for 43-year-old Jackson, as he Zoom-calls from a rich hotel suite with dark wallpaper and plump cushions in the background. It stems from an evident bond with his mum, whose presence lovingly peppers our conversation. Just 16 when she left Dublin, Fiona Jackson travelled through Paris, Amsterdam and Geneva before embracing the vibrancy of London’s Swinging Sixties and ultimately making for Vancouver in her early twenties.

In an entry on her blog, she speaks of falling for “the spectacular beauty of snow-capped mountains and the Pacific Ocean” and ultimately scoring an entry-level position at a Canadian talent agency. It led to a career as a successful casting agent, working on film classics including Carnal Knowledge with Jack Nicholson and McCabe & Mrs Miller with Warren Beatty and Julie Christie.

She met and married Joshua’s father, John Carter, and the young family moved to Los Angeles. Sister Aisleagh was born shortly before John walked out on the family, leaving a profound effect.

“My father, unfortunately, was not a good father or husband and exited the scene,” the actor disclosed last year, before adding it’s something he “will never get over”.

Young infants in tow, Fiona returned to Vancouver and, having found early success in casting, helped contribute to the foundation of the burgeoning “Hollywood North” industry on the Canadian west coast.

Accompanying his mum on set, young Joshua’s interests were piqued. “She introduced me to this world and saw from a young age that I enjoyed performing in a way that kids do. She allowed me the opportunity to step into her work world, but it was also very clear that it was work.”

He appeared as an extra on MacGyver and as a child actor’s double in The Fly II, and Fiona could see her son’s talent and genuine desire to impress. So she allowed him to audition. However, permission came with strict caveats.

“I don’t think my mum would have ever put me anywhere near the entertainment industry if I didn’t have something to offer to it. And not just for myself; she’s a prideful woman and didn’t want to be embarrassed by her kid.”

Casting 1991 melodrama Crooked Hearts with ER’s Noah Wyle, Fiona gave Joshua a chance to shine. Impressing the filmmakers, the then-12-year-old secured the part, setting him not only on a path to stardom but away from the troubles of his teen years.

“My mother gave me the guard rails I needed at that time and also recognised, being a working single mum and with me a young boy, transitioning into a teenager, I needed structure in my life. I needed something that I was passionate about and had a respect for, because I was kind of a typical teenage disaster.

“I look back on those times in my life and the two parallel tracks I was running on. On the one hand, getting into all sorts of trouble and, on the other hand, my professional life, where I showed up and learned my lines and did my job in order to be respected by the adults I was around. If I hadn’t had that professional side of my life, the other side would have taken over, and Mum saw that. Who knows where I would have ended up?”

So Jackson was a full-on teen delinquent? “Yeah, I was, to a certain extent. It was relatively innocent — nobody died — but I was a teenage boy who didn’t have a father in the home, didn’t have a man to be scared of, frankly, and as a teenage boy, I think that helps. My mum had to work and she wasn’t always in the house so I learned to get into more and more trouble. I got into just enough trouble to have a good time and learn some lessons but if I hadn’t had my work life, I might have tipped over into the kind of trouble that you don’t come back from.”

Three decades in and Jackson remains one of the hardest-working, most recognisable actors in the game. Hitting pay dirt at 18 as Dawson’s Creek’s Pacey Witter — the wisecracking, teacher-bedding antithesis to James Van Der Beek’s beleaguered titular drip — the actor was a revelation: the soul and bite of a seasoned character performer in the guise of relatable poster-boy idol.

Teens swooned, so did the industry, and alongside Van Der Beek, Michelle Williams and Katie Holmes, Jackson had Hollywood at his feet.

A string of popcorn offerings followed — Cruel Intentions, Gossip, Shutter, Cursed — some quality, others derivative, with the small screen ultimately best utilising his skills. A five-season run on sci-fi series Fringe was followed by an outstanding turn on Showtime’s The Affair. Last year, he maintained a brooding presence opposite Reese Witherspoon and Kerry Washington in Little Fires Everywhere. And this year, he takes on arguably his darkest work yet in Dr Death.

The new miniseries is based on the non-fiction podcast of the same name, and Jackson portrays Christopher Duntsch, a former spinal surgeon who maimed 33 patients owing to gross malpractice while operating in hospitals in Dallas and Fort Worth, Texas. Two of these patients lost their lives. Convicted in 2017, Duntsch is currently in prison and serving life imprisonment. He still maintains his innocence, with his defence arguing that he was merely a bad surgeon, not a criminal.

Exuding a simmering malevolence, the actor showcases Duntsch’s disturbing complexities and terrifying behaviour as a narcissist and sociopath with a keen insight. Did Jackson meet with Duntsch? “I wanted to, but that was going to be really difficult because he’s appealing his case and his lawyers would’ve advised against it. And as I got deeper into the materials and podcast, and got a better understanding of the man, I don’t think it would’ve helped because he still really believes he’s the victim of his own patients, and the lawyers and the legal system. I’m not sure asking a liar for the truth gets you any closer to the truth.”

When it came to the victims, Jackson wanted to maintain a respectful distance. “I didn’t need to drag them through those awful memories again and I’m always a little dubious about asking people to delve into the worst moments of their life just to satisfy my curiosity. The questions had already been asked thanks to the podcast.”

Dr Death came at the right time in the actor’s life. New baby daughter Janie offered a crucial respite from the intense, and often dark, six-month foray into Duntsch’s malignant psyche.

“Inhabiting Mr Duntsch was an ugly space to live in for six months. If I’d been coming home to an empty house every night, it would have been a pretty bleak existence. It was so much better to come back to a loving home. My one-year-old doesn’t give a damn what I was doing that day. She just wants to be loved and hugged and cuddled, and it was the perfect antidote when some days were particularly heavy.”

Recently Jackson confessed that the Dawson’s Creek cast won’t be returning for a retrospective reunion like the Friends stars did earlier this year. “If you put our mid-forties selves together on a couch now, with our creaking backs, it might shock people.”

Quizzed on an actual reboot of the drama, Joshua reckons he’s simply too old to replicate the iconic rapid exchanges of dialogue between the garrulous young characters. “We were like The West Wing for teenagers,” he laughs, referencing Aaron Sorkin’s hit political TV series, also infamous for speedy script delivery. “My 43-year-old brain couldn’t do a show at that pace. Back then, we were doing seven, 10 pages a day and, to deliver dialogue at that speed, you have to have a certain mental capacity for that, and I don’t have it anymore. That’s the real reason why we’re not doing a reunion — I’ve become too dumb to keep up with that script.”

He remains in touch with his DC co-stars, including Holmes, his one-time girlfriend of two years. There’s even a text chain. “It goes through spurts every once in a while. I’ll have a bunch of messages on it and then it’ll go dormant. We’re like college friends — there are moments we’re all in contact and then long, fallow periods as we get on with our lives.”

While maintaining a busy slate, Jackson’s overwhelming purpose continues to circle the women in his life. Turner-Smith is currently shooting a new movie with Adam Driver and Greta Gerwig, so he’s assuming full-time dad duties. It’s an equitable arrangement given the flexible needs of their individual commitments, and one he appears content with.

[mirismuffins-ovo]

Plant Palace pt 8🌿

John felt guilty,he hadn’t expected Eddie to accept him back so easily but it still hurt to feel rejected. John had gone back to his car. It was a colder night but he sleeplessly stayed there for the night. Missing his kids and filled with sadness,what would he tell his kids if he came back and said Eddie didn’t want anything to do for John. He’d felt lonely for such a long time and feared losing the one person he wanted to be with most.

He stayed there for the rest of the night,ignoring his hungry stomach begging for food. John normally went hungry for the sake of the kids when they handed out rations for the camps and he’d gotten into the habit of eating less. His clothes hid that fact for the most part,he had examined Eddie's house,it was nice. Eddie had done well for himself,and he didn’t blame Eddie for being mad at John,he’d ran off after promising they’d have a family together and raise the babies together. Sleeplessly lying in the driver's seat with it reclined thinking about everything.

Eddie groaned as he woke up. Leafy and Bitty were pawing at his legs as he realized where he was. He never left the front entry way and didn’t think about the cats.

“Shit.” He groaned.

He got up, going to feed the cats when Bitty looked up at him and meowed before rubbing up against his leg. Then it all dawned on him.

“SHIT, JOHN!”

He fled his apartment, running outside, seeing maybe the man fell asleep at his apartment complex entry way. He didn’t care if it was early in the morning, He fucked up. He had promised himself over the years that it didn’t matter what happened to John. He wasn’t human so he had to do what the man had to do, and Eddie accepted that when they were dating. Just his own jealousy got in the way. He ran in the opposite direction he walked home in the night before, shouting for John’s name. He didn’t even look in any of the parked cars on the side of the street or alleyways. All he wanted to do was find his old lover and hold him in his arms again and apologize for being a complete dick.

John looked over with restless eyes from his small car seeing Eddie running around seeming to look like he was distressed.He wondered would Eddie really be better off,as he listened to him call his name. It seemed like it from what he said last night but he got out of the car,his eyes burned from crying the whole night but also no sleep. He shut the car door loud enough to let Eddie know to look over. John couldn’t bring himself to look at Eddie.

John leaned on his car,watching the man somberly,hearing the rapid steps from Eddie darting around in frantic search. He’d figured Eddie would be better with someone more normal...after all he said maybe it was better that people like them shouldn’t be together. John had spent all night trying to decide whether he should’ve turned the car around and driven back to camp. He hoped he didn’t choose wrong.

As soon as Eddie heard the car door close, he whipped around seeing the smaller distressed frame of the familiar man. Eddie took off full he speed,as fast as his older body could before flung himself at John, embracing him and swinging him around.

“Thank God you didn’t leave!” Eddie exclaimed in pure joy as he set John down from the spin.

John looked up confused but also trying to hide a blush on his cheeks.

“I know we have a lot to work out, but I am so so sorry for being an ass last night. I had a shitty band practice and so I went to get a few drinks and this one girl kept hitting on me at the bar and then I heard your song on the bus home and I…” Eddie paused himself,pulling the red head in for a hug again. “I’ve missed you so so much..I feel like I’m in Heaven right now seeing you again..” he muttered in a loving tone. Placing a gentle hand on the back of Johns head still holding him.

Eddie was crying tears of joy again. John was alive, John was safe, John was here.

John had frozen shocked by the sudden action,he didn’t know what to say. He felt happier than ever and relieved but still filled with confusion, “I’m sorry..I don’t know what I should say” he muttered in a dry voice,batting his eyes a few times while streams of tears ran down his face. Now in the arms of Eddie tightly burying his face into Eddie's upper shoulder. John's stomach said something for him with a loud growl. He blushed embarrassed and pulled away from the hug to look up at Eddie.

“I missed you Eddie...I should've tried to take you with me” John's pale frail hand wiped a tear falling,from his cheek as he let out a soft shaky breath. His stomach letting out another growl craving food once again.

Eddie just ignored the words for the time being and broke them apart for a quick moment before smooshing their lips together in a super long, 2 year delayed, kiss. It felt good to finally connect this intimately with the person he loved dearly. Suffocating one another in affection,but another growl from John’s stomach snapped them out of it,Eddie snickered as John blushed with embarrassment.

“Come back to my place, I’ll cook something. Plus I’m sure there is someone who’d love to see you right now.” Grabbing John’s hand, Eddie started to drag him in the direction of his house.

When they were reaching his apartment, he forgot to close his door and was afraid the cats got out. He quickly approached the door and looked inside, calling to his two kitty companions. He left John at the door to see if he could still find them.

“Spspspsp” He sounded out and waited. The singer walked in looking around to see Bitty pinning Leafy down who was struggling to move as he wanted to go out the door. “Good kitty! Keeping Leafy inside!” He cooed, getting them treats. “Daddy’s sorry he left in a hurry, I’ll give you extra kibble.” Both cats heard food and started to pour more into their dishes.

“You can come in now.” Eddie called, hearing the footsteps enter his home and close his front door.

Bitty lifted her head up in wonder to see who came inside her home when the kitty smelled an old but familiar smell. “Murrrrp? Merrrrp!” She ditched her food dish and ended up rubbing herself on her old cat dad. She meowed and purred vigorously when John picked her up and started laughing.

“Awww my lil Bits” He held her like a baby and gave her head small kisses “I missed you so much my lil one” he laughed softly and set her down purring loudly as she pranced over to the food bowl “I missed her,Thankyou for taking care of her Eds”

John tiredly sat down on a chair relaxing a bit as Eddie started to cook up breakfast,he looked like he was ready to fall asleep then and there. John was exhausted from his worrying, “your house is really nice,I also like the new cat” he smiled at Eddie from across the table. He fidgeted with his red hair “the girls wanna meet you Eddie..and I can’t stop thinking about it” Johns eyes were closed now,smiling at the thought of his sweet kids “my moms taking care of them right now”

Eddie smiled. “I would love to see them too John…” He got out a couple of plates. “But we need to work out what’s between us. We need to make sure it's really safe for Humans and Abbies to live together and be allowed to love each other. Things have been trying to change for the better between our species, but there’s always that loophole that continues to set everyone back.”

He dished up the food and handed one plate to John who carefully begin to take small bites to ease the food into his stomach. Eddie ate like normal, scratching Leafy’s ear when the kitty decided to beg for his food.

“No, Leaf, go eat your kibble.”

Eddie turned his attention back to John. “So… How have you been, like really been?”

John thought about the question pausing his meal,he normally tried to not think about how he was feeling. “I-...I’m tired,it’s been a rough few years raising the kids...and helping my mom with the rebellion,getting captured then breaking out of a facility.I really lucked out they didn’t find I could have kids,...we aren’t seen as humans in facilities” John gave an awkward laugh attempting to hide his grim recount,before he shoved another bite into his mouth chewing slowly. “It’s been...lonely” John had gotten sick during one of the harsher winters after he had the girls. He let out a deep breath rubbing his burning eyes. “It was actually my mom and the girls who said I should try to come back to see you…I mean I was planning to anyways, but I just wasn’t sure if my mom could watch the kids that long. Or if you’d want to even see me.” John ran his fingers through his petal filled hair,it all stressed him out. “Anyways how've you been…” John didn’t wanna tell Eddie that he longed to continue the dream of having a family with him,getting married and actually carrying the children of Eddie. He knew it would be too much to say,it’d been so long after all. He didn’t wanna rush things too fast and lose him again.

“I’ve been better.” Eddie replied. “Just been working on a new EP with the band. After a few concerts, Greenhouse was a success to my surprise. I guess it resonated with a bunch of people. Some people have called it the ‘Barrier Breaker’, saying it’s what's going to bring the people together.” He shrugged. “But who knows.”

He let out another sigh. “So you’ve mentioned you’ve broken out of a facility. But it’s legal for Humans and Abnormals to live together now. Does this mean you’re a fugitive? Does your Mom know you were taken? What about the girls?” He started spilling questions. But then he stopped.

“Sorry. But if you really are on the run, then we have to figure something out so you’re really free.”

“I was a fugitive,this wasn’t the first time I was in a facility. So when we first met I could technically be considered a fugitive,but after this break out and some political negotiations with the governor. My mother and I with a few others were able to make it legal in this state to live in city’s with regular people.” John took a deep breath trying to not overload Eddie with information. “And now a few other progressive states it’s legal,it’s making its way to the presidential office,so hopefully it’ll be countrywide soon” John had an awkward smile for a moment. “we’re working on the details about Abnormals and Regulars getting married and such” He shrugged and sat back in his chair,”Before we were together,a few years back I did some shit as a teenager that got me put in a facility” clearing his throat he continued “it’s why Quinn blew up when I asked about them taking the babies,but now, I’m not a fugitive,I’m ‘legal’ now”

Eddie felt so relieved, like his heart was mending back together.

“We should talk more but you look like you’re about to pass out. Stay for a few days, rest up and eat. I’m still in the middle of the album so I’ll be in my studio most of the day. If you need to leave…” He looked at John with seriousness, giving a warning in his tone of voice. “Tell me. If you run off again, I won’t be as forgiving.”

He got up, went to take a shower real quick then left for the studio. Eddie was elated that John was back, but he couldn’t forgive him just yet. He needed to mend his broken heart and he knew just how to do it. Eddie dried off and got dressed in pajamas,making his way down the hall. John who’d finished eating and seemed to pass out on Eddies couch.

When he walked into his studio, he got set up, texted his band about what’d happened,then began to strum his guitar. He heard only one song ringing through his head now,the song that had been haunting him for years. He closed his eyes, sliding his finger and plucking the first string, beginning to play Eden.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Ghosting A Wayne

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult content +18 only!! Smut, Agegap, Swearing, A Little Angst?

A/n:Ok so this is the first real full smut iv done and im super nervous about posting this one i hope its good but if its shit im sorry hope you enjoyxx

After getting cold feet because of your own insecurities you get a visitor pick you up from work.

Ghosting A Wayne

You sighed as you pulled out a batch of cookies from the oven placing the three large trays out on the cooling racks today was a baking day to fill the display out the front ,you'd been alone with your thoughts all day and were just about done, glancing at the clock you fist pumped the air. Home time. You quickly undone your apron hanging it on the hook by the kitchen door then called out to Tom that your shift was done.

After your first lunch date with Bruce you intended to leave it there but the man was very persistent... and charming somehow he'd managed to talk you in circles and wrangle a second date and third and forth. you'd canceled your fifth using work as an excuse and he bought it for about a week, then he began asking when you were free telling you to call him giving you his personal number which you didn't call.

That worked for about three days before he began messaging you about a date you replied with excuses it seemed to work until he showed up at the door to drop Damien round instead of Alfred, Jack had covered for you not letting either of them in saying you were ill. It wasn't that you didn't like him or anything you were scared, scared of getting hurt he was amazing a perfect gentleman he made you laugh he took you to fancy places but didn't make you uncomfortable even going so far as to berate another guest as he heard them make a comment of the restaurant 'letting anyone in these days' when he was returning from the rest room , you felt special and safe with him.

But he was The Bruce Wayne and nothing would ever come of it. Someone like you had no right to be with someone like him, he deserved a high class well educated successful woman not a minimum wage cafe worker who dropped out of college. You found yourself growing to attached to him and it had frightened you. Not only that but what would people say when they found out, probably think your a charity case or a gold digger you could see the headlines now ' The playboys new sugar baby' with photos of you plastered across the tabloids you shivered.

Damien had spoke to you about it he was far to smart for his own good telling you your being a 'stupid female' and that you should just talk to Bruce about it, Jack also scolded you for being stupid and letting your insecurities hold you back.

The boy had been soo happy for you when you were going out with Bruce, he admitted that he felt responsible for you being alone and not having friends or a boyfriend it broke your heart, hearing how he blamed himself for it, yes it had been hard taking on a 8 year old at 20 years old and yes you did need to grow up quicker then most and avoid the typical early twenties drinking and clubbing but you wouldn't change a thing. When he had brought it up you both had a heart to heart and you were gobsmacked at just how mature he had soundec. He told you that he didn't care about Bruce being Damien's dad or that he was older than you, he was happy that you had someone who made you happy and wanted you to got out with him again and be happy. The boys didn't understand.

"Tom I'm finished don't touch the cookies before they cool you can have one to test but that's it theirs 48 here I've counted, so if you have anymore I will know its you, you greedy little shit" you said opeing the door you walked straight into him he was wide eyed pointing out to the font over his shouldet. You froze thinking the worst it was gotham afterall.

"Oh my god tom?"

"You have.. Out the there.... Man front" he said not making any sense you pushed past him through the door

"whats wron-"

"y/n!" you snapped your head to the counter seeing Bruce standing their ignoring the odd looks he received from the other few customers scattered about in the cafe. You slung your bag over your shoulder cradling your coat in the other hand cursing quietly. Scanning the cafe for a quick exit wanting to run. There was one way in and out and he was between you and the door. Giving in you plastered on a polite smile.

"Bruce what are you doing here?" you asked tentatively due to the blank look on his face unsure what mood he would be in after you ghosted him. Making your way around the counter he followed on the other side meeting you at the end.

"I wanted to take you out, Jack told me when you finished so I thought I'd come pick you up for dinner" you felt the gazes in the room shift from him to you and the whispers started. Bruce held out a hand taking your coat from you while you tried to come up with a reason not to your anxiety screaming at you to run. You sighed at him biting your lower lip raw he lifted a hand pulling it gently forcing you to release it. He smiled meeting your eyes trying to calm you.

"Bruce I don't feel like going out tonight can we reschedule?" hooking his arm around your waist guiding you out of the cafe past the gossiping customers opening the door for the both of you pressing himself to your back giving you no room to bolt away. Hed catch you anyway.

"Good news, we don't have to go out Alfred is making us dinner back home, so we get to have a relaxing night in." you nodded as you left walking down the street feeling your nerves spike as you realized there was no reason to avoid this. He kept pace with you to the side arms ready to dart out and catch you as you glanced around a little skittish he ushered you into a ridiculously expensive Lamborghini and took off down the road.

"So that's Tom then? the one you were talking about?" he started you were confused as he acted like you hadn't been avoiding him for the past week and half you just nodded.

"Err yeah that's him we get along work really well, I was doing all the baking today couldn't handle the customers they were doing my head in." he nodded placing a warm hand on your knee running his thumb in small circles you took a deep breath.

"I know what you mean, had a lot of meetings today with a bunch little men wanting me to over invest in companies that wont last the financial year" you tensed as he left his hand on your leg still navigating the traffic, you tried to shift your led from underneath him but he just followed squeezing it lightly making your breath hitch and clench your walls tight.

"Sh-shouldn't you have both hands on the wheel in a car like this?" you asked quietly he laughed giving you a mischievous look then you screamed as he let go of the wheel completely still picking up speed quickly.

"OH MY GOD BRUCE NO!" you cried leaning over grabbing it yourself he just laughed out loud placing one hand back on it the other still resting on your knee.

"Its fine I could probably drive this with my eyes closed, it's nothing like my other car" he said cheekily as he made his way towards the outskirts of gotham you swallowed nervously.

"yeah please dont do that"

"Don't worry I'd never let anything happen to you sweets" you blushed as he used the nickname he'd given you onde he found out about your sweet tooth and the fact you do all the baking at the cafe.

"He says after driving without hands." you scoffed looking out of the window as the scenery changed. It wasn't long before you pulled up to the manor. It was impressive you'd only been inside twice whilst waiting for Jack to get his things he thought it was the perfect place to hid from his dentist and doctors appointments. Once out of the car he lead you inside where Alfred greeted you both.

"Ah Master Wayne dinner will take another hour or so I'm afraid and Y/n its lovely to see you again." Bruce gave you both a look seeking an explanation for the first name basis.

"Have you met everyone in this house before me?" he asked sarcastically you smiled at him before Alfred took your coats hanging them up.

"Well sometimes the boys play about getting ready so Alfred comes in for tea whilst we wait and I've met Tim he has come over a few times drank my whole pot of coffee and left." he grunted before leading you to a small sitting room off to the side.

"We will be in here Alfred call us when dinner is ready." Alfred nodded smiling slyly before closing the door leaving you in private. You sat down on the leather sofa a nervous wreck looking around the opulent room feeling out of place, he took a seat beside you offering you a glass of what you assumed was scotch he sat and leaned in next to you. Relaxing as he took a slow sip of his drink.

"Don't look so worried the boys explained for you. Your scared of getting hurt I can understand that I don't exactly have the best record but I'm not giving up as you can tell."you looked down into your glass a little ashamed as you heard hurt laced in his words.

"I-its not that, its me I.. I love spending time with you I really do... but I dont think you should waste your time on me... thats all" he frowned you sounded so ...defeated , he didnt like it one bit placing his glass down putting two and two together. That he didn't know Damien said you were being a 'difficult woman' and Jack had said that you hadn't dated since school and were afraid of being hurt he summarised that it was because of him but it sounds like there was more to it then that. Bruce took a deep breath regarding you carefully.

"Waste my time? why would spending time with you be a waste. There is something between us, I have never felt this type of pull to a woman before and I'm quite determind to see you if you havent already noticed" he said sternly you shrunk into the sofa he sighed pulling the glass tumbler from you hand.

"Whats really going on? we were going fine then you just pulled back. I want this, us and I know you do to but we have to talk to each other." You leaned forward locking eyes with him feeling overwhelmed you shook your head pulling back he followed leaning back pulling you across the seat wrapping his arms around you pulling your face into his chest holding you, you tried pulling yourself off of him but he was to stronger than he looked. You Gave up then took a deep breath endulging in the closeness breathing him in.

"Talk to me please" he spoke quietly into your hair

"I cant, I just cant, your-I, you need someone better. And if people find out then what will they think? that I'm a charity case some passing fancy? that you'll get bored with and you will bruce. When you find some older succsessfull women who equals you. someone that I can never be for you. I wont be good enough for you and you'll see it one day" once you started you couldn't stop as the words kept coming your fears poured out after being kept bottled up since that very first date.Fears of loving him and then him leaving, or of what backlash Jack could face if you were painted to be a whore trying to capture Bruces attention, the cps could investigate if it seemed like you were becoming a party girl like what Bruce typically dated. Then there was the fact that the school could start being funny if word got out that you and bruce were together. But the main reason was that he was to good for you and you knew it. You heaved a breath feeling lighter yet your stomach churned he had been quiet throughout and you'd gotten yourself worked up shaking from your anxiety feeling sick to your stomach.

"I'm sorry I know I should have spoke to you instead but I... I was scared that you were going to realize I'm right and leave ...so" he hushed you rubbing your back lightly causing you to shiver and relax onto his chest.

"So you left before I could?" you flinched then nodded it sounded so petty when said out loud he moved sitting up a bit more dragging you with him not releasing you for a second, he would have preferred if it had all been about his past but now realized you had low self esteem you had fears about the future, the age gap, Jacks future and how people would judge you all of these fear were to blame. And he understood it must be daughting, but what got him most was that you thought he'd let you deal with it alone , that you were so scared of loosing him in the long run you tried to walk away now and that was all the proof he needed that you did feel somthing for him.

"Tell me something does Jack have a problem with you being with me?" he asked you shook your head instantly.

"No he loves it, he wants me to be with you he saw how happy I was he has been pestering me to call" he pulled his head away smiling confusing you.

"I can tell you that Damien is thrilled he has even been bragging to his brothers that I've found the perfect woman and they cant wait to meet you by the way the

and he threatened me before every date to 'not to fuck it up' so let me ask another question if Jack, Damien me and you are happy what does anyone else's opinion matter? it's our life why should we make ourselves miserable over a few tabloids that can be taken to court and be corrected? and I do have reporters that I trust with these type of stories one is a very close friend who I could give an exclusive to before any rumors get around and the press make up some nonsense. Not only that I know Clark wold print the truth if he knew that it involved the boys being bullied in the school." he let you pull back shocked you didnt think he would want anyone to know, you thought hed be ashamed of you.

"wh-what?" it was bearly a whisper but he heard it.

"You heard me sweets, Clark wouldn't let me down not with this and there are other reporters who I've trusted to cover stories of the boys in the past one phone call and I would have everything sorted and anyone who tries to make this something its not will feel the full force of my legal team." he leaned in giving you no time to reply kissing you deeply invading your mouth moaning into you. His tongue dominated your mouth taking your breath away he paused pulling you to straddle his waist you blushed looking down at him.Trying to put your weight on your knees conscious of your weight Bruce not having any of that tugged harshly pulling your weight on his thighs.

"And as for finding someone better I doubt it. I've said it before and I will say it again I want you. Not some stuck up model who's one surgery away from being on botched. The day we met I was floored and for the first time I saw what I truly wanted for me and my family. And it wasn't some highly educated business woman, no it was a sexy little mama bear who treated my son as her own." you gasped as he brought your hips closer resting you on his crotch before leaning forward capturing your lips again this time slow and deliberate pouring himself into it you, you moaned quietly as he rocked you across his groin. Pulling back for air

"So little miss now we have all that cleared up is there anything you want to add?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" you gasped out trying to collect yourself as you began getting tearful as you felt stupid for being so silly yet relieved that he hadn't thrown you out, he chuckled shushing you then moved biting at your earlobe .

"That's ok love I'm sure you'll make it up to me" he said kissing down your neck biting below your ear then lower to your pulse point feeling it race under his tongue before sucking harshly bordering on painful.

"o-OH Bruce" you gasped gripping his shoulder trying not to lean back to far and fall he noticed using and arm to hold you elbow resting on your waist curling his fingers into your low bun pulling slowly stretching your neck before him leaving marks up it you groaned closing your eyes trying to rub your thighs together as your pussy grew hot and clenched dampening your panties he ran his nose down your neck kissing your collar bone lightly.

"Aww sweety so desperate hm?" you whined squeezing his hips between your thighs again grinding softly against him he chuckled biting the top of your breast running his tongue along your cleavage unbuttoning your blouse with deft fingers then returned them to your hips pushing you harshly on his erection you cried out looking down panting as he dragged you slowly back and forth feeling him through his trousers was almost to much you fisted your hands in the crisp shirt covering his shoulders. He let out a breathy growl smug as you started trying to rock on him faster pouting when he held you controlling your pace circling you slow on his bulge dipping his thumbs into your pelvis tilting you catching your clit with every pass of your hips you shook your head eyes tightly shut.

"OH fuck shiiitt Bruce" he watched eyes blown as he built you up slowly drinking in your flushed face pouty full lips forming an 'o' as you let out high pitched cries his hands smothered your breasts squeezing them in his palms testing them before he tipped the cups down teasing your pink nipples to attention. You opened your eyes glazed over pleading with him.

"Please Bruce... I dont-fuck" you moaned high and louder almost squeeling as he pinched one of your nipples refusing to let go pulling your chest towards him by it until he could lay a sweet kiss to the other suckling catching it between his teeth nipping it letting go with a loud pop. You panted harder as he toyed with you, your body trembled as he pulled you closer to the edge your clit rubbed harshly against him and he growled relishing in the way your heat seeped onto him. He couldn't wait. He wouldn't. With a one sweeping motion you found yourself lying on the sofa with him hovering over you pulling your leggings down over your hips skimming your quivering thighs with his knuckles befor rubbing your calves and griping your ankles encircling them effortlesly, running his thumbs across the inside of them . Following bending as he went kissing your soft stomach and pelvis finally leaving a small kiss on your mound over your panties you moaned at that. He slipped your leggings off taking your flats with them you blushed as he stared seeing the wet patch you'd left on your panties crawling back up you exploring with his hands the whole way. Hooking a hand around to back of your neck he pulled you up into a bruising kiss needy as he angled his head to devour you deeper his other hand dragging your shirt from you by the back of the neck unclipping your bra and he went lowering you back down you blushed trying to cover yourself he growled pinning them beside you.

"Nooo you dont babe, let me see, show me" he ground out a deep gruntle sound that vibrated threw you trailing the tips of his fingers from your throat down in slow unpredictable patterns leaving goosebumps in his wake your nipples pebbled as he past them your whole body shuddered

"Fuck. Your stunning" you didn't meet his gaze it was to hot, posessive like he was claiming you already just with his eyes watching closely memorizing every freckle and mark on your skin, he let out a deep shuddering breath when you arched up inyo him as he fingered the bow on the waist band of your panties back and forth he brought his fingers lower and lower across your mound. You squirmed trying to buck up against him trying to get him where you desperately needed him whimpering pitifully. His response was to stretch out his fingers across your lower tummy and push you back down holding you still. You protested as his warm hand covered your whole mound and rocked forward trying to catch your clit on the heal of his palm that rested just out of reach.

"Such a greedy little thing. I think I'm going to have to work on your manners" he chided before using a hand to unbutton his shirt revealing a perfectly sculpted torso, you made a noise in the back of your throat that you didn't recognize at the sight of him, caramel skin taught over deliciously defined muscles and small thatch of hair disappearing below a teasingly low hanging trousers he let the shirt slide to the floor undoing his belt then slowly pulled his trousers over his hip grunting thrusting forward as it glided over his cock. You bit your lip still trying to move against his heavy hand he granted you a little mercy twisting as the wrist slotting his thumb between your lips seeking your clit and rubbing a figure 8 hard.

"AHH! F-Fuck BRUCE yes oh god-" you gasped deep breaths as he rolled your cilt around almost rough in his ministrations the fabric of you panties hieghtend the sensation you closed your eyes grinding yourself down on him tears leaked from them his other hand came up to your throat forcing you to face him.

"Look at me baby. come on let me see you... ah there she is good girl" he praised as you looked at him tears clinging to your lashes his hand still working you. Sobbing incoherently trying to buck up to him.

"OH fuck please-PLEASE let me come bruce please I'll do anything PLEASE" you breathed out hoarse gasping when your pussy weeped wetting the sofa below you he played you like an instrument taking you higher and higher you clenched and withered as you felt that familiar burn of an orgasm start in your lower tummy , almost cramping as it traveld lower to your pussy you chased it trying to rock harder just as you were at the presapice he stopped pulling his thumb away bit still pinned you down.

"AH! NO Br-BRUCE come back" you sobbed reaching out for him as your body hummed hot and quivering you gave up on finding his hand throwing yours between you trying to take over and force yourself over the edge. Soo close. Bruce was quicker catching them in one hand pulling them above you head. He watched waiting for you to come down from the almost high. Pouting all the way.

"You can count that as your punishment babe" he whispered huskliey into your neck kissing at the marks he has left. You cried out frustarated sweaty and exhasted.

"But im feeling a little mercifull tonight." you looked at him from below your lashes his heart skipped a beat seeing you look at him so needy and ready you looked so small,he could do anything to you right now but only wanted one thing. Shuffling back leaning down he placed an open mouthed kiss on your panties slipping his fingers in the sides draging them off before standing removing his boxers freeing his erection you gasped as it bounced up tapping his stomach ,hesitantly you reached out running a single finger along the underside from tip to base he jerked forward when you cupped him testing your grip befor stroking him he stopped you

"Fuck sorry babe but I cant wait." he growled out pinning you back down running his weeping head up and down your slit you tensed as he probed your enterance. Sensing your nerves he locked lips with you coaxing out your tongue sucking on it before licking in your mouth makeing obscene noises feeling you relax he took the chance and slowly begun stretching you around him ,you gasped at the slight sting pulling back rest your forehead on his grunting softly as he kept a slow steady pressure finally knocking his hips with yours you panted feeling your walls fluttering around him then squeezing

"shit Bruce" he huffed out a laugh flexing in response

"carefull there babe" you grunted feeling stuffed full as his head pushed against your cervix.

"Bruce please...HUrry up!" you clenched him stealing his breath from him he gave a playfull glare you felt a little tremor of apprehension as he repostioned your legs higher on his hips placing your heels into his lower back before plowing you into the sofa grunting and growling as his thrusts rocked your body you were by no means quiet as the veins on his cock massaged your walls with delicious friction he slowed then pressed himself tight against your clit rotating catching your gspot you bucked violenty against him head thrown back as you wailed he leaned up sucking and biting at your neck then resumed finding a brutal pace aiming for your gspot hitting it with pinpoint accuracy. You shook your head screaming out uncontrollably bucking begging for him to go harder, faster just wanting more. It wasn't long befor you saw stars letting out a silent scream tensing before you snapped cumming around him almost blinded as he rode you through it still hitting your spot faster if that was even possible before stuttering his hips holding himself tight locking you both together as he flooded you.

"OH GOD fuck FUCK yesyesyes good girl yes fuck" he moaned as you lay beneath him, limp body still quacking in the aftermath of your own end. He stayed still until he was soft catching his breath recovering before you removing himself he sat back on his knees watching as he leaked from you quick to scoop his cum and press it back within you, you whined still painfully oversensitive trying to pull away from his invading fingers. he chuckled as you squirmed utterly spent.

"nooo bruce" you whined as he prodded your freshly fucked pussy lighly grazing your abused clit causing you to whine at him pitifully jolting with every swipe.

"Aww baby are you sore?" you pouted at his words nodding he got up sitting you up handing you your forgotton drink you took it gulping it down ignoring the burn. he retrived his boxers throwing them on then a soft blanket covering you before scooping you up heading for the door.

"Bruce? what are you doing?" you asked gorgily already struggiljng to stay awake he leant down shutting you up with a kiss.

"We are going to bed you need some sleep before we continue." you blinked

"wha?" he grinned cheekily

"well how are we going to build up your stamina if we dont push past your exhaustion?" you almost cried just wanting to sleep.

"What about Alfred dinner?" you questioned

"He didnt make any I had to have a reason to get you here didnt I? he went to bed. and dont worry about Jack he is staying over in a room next to Damien's" you looked at him shocked

"What why was he here? do you think he could have heard me? bruce!" you panicked suddenly fully awake trying to wiggle out of his grip he laughed kissing your face.

"Oh my god what about our clothes? Bruce go back and shit we made a mess i need to clean that up..Bruce are you listening?" You created as he continued further away from the room youd just soild.

"he didnt hear you at all it was one of his demands when we planned this. And dont worry about the room or the clothes alfred will take care of it" he said scaling the stairs with ease taking you to his room

"planned? you who else knew? And what do you mean alfred will take care of it? no absolutly not that is embarassing" you argued as he kicked the door to his room shut behind him depositing you on his bed following you down landing above you kissing you again.

"me alfred damien and jack planned it but dick and jason knew too thats why they are scarce and alfred has cleard up worse trust me." he explained you stared at him in horror

"My little brother set me up with you?oh my god I'm not going to live that down and i need to clear that up its to embarassing for alfred to see" you cried he laughed out loud.

"Well I think its was worth it, and you can try and beat Alfred to it but that room will be ccleared up before sunrise and you won't be leaving this bed before then" he said snuggling up with you under the cover ,you made a noise as he tucked you into his chest his heart beat calming you making you drift into a peaceful sleep resting on his chest, feeling safe and sound wrapped up in him as he traced patterns on your back, sighing he was finally content a peace he hadnt known befor washed over him satisfied that he had found the woman that would complete his family, his chest swelled as he placed a kiss on your head. He wasn't ever letting you go now that he had you here. Glancing over at the clock, hed give you an hour or so to build up some energy before he woke you smirkjng to himslef planing all the wicked ways he was going to toy with you during the night. Oh yes the night was young and if Bruce had his way you wouldnt be leaving his bed tomorrow because you wouldnt be able to, thankfully you hade a few days off so he might let you recover. Then again he might not.

[queen18xo]

I’m Falling Again

Fic for @geraskierminibang for @patchwork-doublet ‘s art :)

A man with short, messy chestnut hair sits on a stool. Various patterned tapestries hang from the walls behind him. On his lap sits a light wood acoustic guitar. He flashes a charming smile at the camera, his baby blue eyes shining beneath the studio lights. The camera slowly zooms in, focusing on soft, agile fingers as they pluck expertly at the acoustic guitar strings, his fingers pluck out a gentle rhythm, his sweet, melodic voice ringing out above the soft strumming of the guitar. 

"I'm in my bed 

And you're not here 

And there's no one to blame

But the drink in my wandering hands." 

The man on the stool looked to be in his early twenties; he had a young blemish-free face, his face was well structured, his eyes sparkling with a youthful twinkle. His fingers were graceful and moved across the strings with well-practised ease. His chestnut hair complemented his pale complexion; his cheeks tinted pink as he softly sang. As the lyrics spilled from his mouth, his pink lips pulled up into an easy smile. 

He wore a threadbare black t-shirt, the worn hemline drooping to expose his prominent collar bones, the shirt hanging loosely from his slim frame. 

"Forget what I said 

It's not what I meant 

And I can't take it back 

I can't unpack the baggage you left." 

His strumming quickened, the familiar chorus approaching, his voice rising a few octaves as he sang, passion coating every word pushed past his lips. 

"What am I now? What am I now? 

What if you're someone I just want around

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out? 

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling."

The final note rings out loudly; the man throws a disarming smile in the direction of the camera, one of his dainty hands running through his hair, pushing his fringe from where it's fallen into his eyes.

"Thank you for listening everyone; I'm Jaskier." Jaskier's eyes twinkled, his voice bubbles easily from his mouth, his arms flew around at his sides, their movements lightening fast, keeping up with the speed of the words falling from his lips. "So the song was one of my current favourites, Falling by Geralt Rivia" a shy blush coloured his cheeks as he spoke poetically about his favourite singer. "Yeah so for anyone that hasn't checked him out I suggest you do, it was a pleasure to entertain you, until next time." Jaskier threw a flirtatious wink at the camera, a slight blush still colouring his usually pale cheeks. 

The video ended, the screen turning black before several squares advertising other videos. Geralt stared at the screen slack-jawed, his mind reeling as he sat awed by the impressively diverse vocal range the singer showcased. Jaskier had a soft, sweet voice; however, beneath his voice's soothing sultry sound was a raspy quality that added a unique element to his voice. He effortlessly captivated people, his warm smile and bubbly personality were infectious. 

Geralt wasn't usually one to pay attention to others covering his songs; in fact, he actively tried to avoid listening to covers. A piece took months, sometimes even years to perfect, and he had no desire to hear others butchering his hard work. However, listening to Jaskier's cover of one of the least recognised songs he'd released became unavoidable when Cirilla, his 13-year-old daughter, demanded several times in the space of a week that he listened to the cover. 

It was rare to find genuine talent; everything was auto-tuned and over-commercialised, Geralt enjoyed the simplicity of watching a man and his guitar. The sight reminded him of when he had first delved into his passion for music. There was no doubt Jaskier loved what he was doing despite the struggle of being an unknown artist. 

"He's good, right?" A confident voice chirped from behind him; he felt the pressure of his daughter's entire body weight as she pushed down on his broad shoulders as she was bouncing excitedly behind him. 

"Hmmm, not bad." Geralt shrugged, chuckling at the affronted sound she released her mouth pulled down into a scowl. Geralt smirked, twisting his arm around to pinch the pink apples of her cheeks before removing himself from his desk chair. 

"Mum likes him; Mum says he's just your type." Geralt stops in his tracks turning to face his daughter, his eyebrows raised as he stares, shocked by her statement. 

He crouches down to Ciri's level, one knee on the floor as he watches her carefully "Cirilla, you and your mother need to stop trying to meddle in my love life okay, I am perfectly happy." His large hand cups her chubby cheek softly, he gives her a warm smile, settling the young girl with a fond gleam in his eyes.

~~~~~ 

Once Cirilla had been settled for the night Geralt sat at the kitchen counter, the stove’s overhead light bathing the spacious, tiled room in a soft glow. "Yennefer." Geralt growled in greeting, not bothering with pleasantries. 

"Geralt, polite as always." The woman snarked, her voice ringing loudly in his ear as she greets him. 

"Will you stop meddling in my damn love life." Geralt whisper shouted, his voice dropping an octave as he spoke. 

"What love life exactly Geralt?" 

Geralt growled lowly in warning his frustration with the woman steadily rising the longer she spoke, her voice, unlike Jaskier's, grating on his frayed nerves. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger drawing in a deep calming breath. "Just let it go Yennefer," Geralt breaths out suddenly tired, his shoulders sagging as he sits with the phone pressed to his ear. 

~~~~~~~

Several days later, Ciri came bounding through the front door, launching herself into her father's lap as he sat reclined on the sofa watching tv. "Dad, guess what?" She asked excitedly, the teen vibrating with excitement as she spoke. He didn't bother with a response just raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "Jaskier, the guy that covered your song, he's my new music teacher!" She squealed her face flushed with exertion from the excited screeching and bouncing she was doing. 

Geralt had watched several more of the man's covers since seeing the cover of his song, Jaskier was relatively successful on youtube, he had gained a large following in a short amount of time. "What happened to Mr. Marx?" Geralt asked. He hadn't been aware Ciri's usual music teacher had left the school. 

"Dad" Ciri groaned, rolling her eyes exasperatedly, Geralt chuckled slightly over the girl's dramatics. "Who cares what happened to Mr. Marx! Jaskier is my new teacher, dad this is great." She squealed in his ear the shrill sound causing him to flinch away from the irritating sound. 

"Cirilla, calm down and stop screeching in my ear like a damn banshee." Geralt ordered rubbing a hand over his suddenly tired face. Geralt found it peculiar to think that the beautiful stranger must not live far from their apartment, his heart began beating heavily in his chest over the thought of possibly running into the man one day. 

Jaskier uploaded a new video weekly, Geralt had just finished watching the most recent video. The man had covered another one of his songs; however, it was a slightly more upbeat, more popular song but still not one of his mainstream hits. Geralt found himself idly wondering if he'd made the connection between Cirilla and him yet. Geralt could see boxes and various small homely items scattered around the floor in the background of the usually empty room, indicating he had recently moved into their area. Probably for the job. 

"You're still picking me up tomorrow right dad?" Ciri called from her room, across the house, the teen knew how much it aggravated him yet that never seemed to deter her. 

"Yes Cirilla, go to sleep." He shouted back, his deep voice loud in the otherwise quiet apartment. Since his divorce from Yennefer it was only the two of them left in the apartment, the large space often feeling empty, two people not enough to fill it. 

~~~~~~

Geralt arrived at the school late; he rushed from the car over to the school's courtyard, where his thought process was promptly derailed. Standing beside Ciri, was Jaskier, her new music teacher and the man Geralt had developed a hopeless crush on. 

He approached the two who barely noticed his arrival, both lost in conversation. Jaskier had a massive grin on his face, his fringe hanging messily across his forehead, his clothes rumpled from a long day of work.

"Dad!" Ciri called loudly as if he wasn't standing directly beside her. She smirked up at him, mischievously a trait she had unfortunately gained from Yennefer. The witch still making his life difficult years after their separation. 

"Cirilla." Geralt scolded the girl quietly for her obnoxious behaviour, Ciri looked up at him apologetically, her amber eyes glowing as she looked up at him. 

"Hi I'm - Oh my god." Jaskier gasped out, his dainty hand flying to cover his mouth as his jaw dropped in shock. His bright blue eyes stared up at Geralt beneath thick black lashes. 

"I'm Geralt, Ciri's dad." Geralt offered out his hand for the teacher to shake, flashing the man a small reassuring smile. Jaskier reached out, his small shaky hand grasping Geralt's in a gentle grip. 

"I love you." Jaskier blurted out his cheeks colouring," Oh my god I can't believe I just said that." Jaskier stated mortified, his blue eyes watery as his eyes bore into Geralt’s. "This is so embarrassing," the man laughed hysterically. 

Geralt motioned for Ciri to make her way to the car alone, waiting until the teen is out of earshot before calming the hysterical man down. "Hey, hey, it's alright." Geralt hesitantly pulled the man in his arms, leaving Jaskier enough time to decline the physical contact, not wanting to cross a line. 

Jaskier’s laboured breathing finally began to calm, the man pulling his head from where it leant against Geralt's firm chest. He stays tucked beneath the older man's muscular arms; his head pulled back far enough to meet Geralt's eyes. "I am so sorry; this is so unprofessional." Jaskier groaned, burying his head back into Geralt's chest to hide his embarrassment. 

Geralt chuckles, finding the man in his arms delightfully adorable, he was used to fans being overwhelmed by him, but none were quite like Jaskier. "How about you let me take you out?" Geralt asks timidly, Jaskier's small frame held against his chest. 

"God yes," Jaskier breathes out his heart thumping heavily in his chest as he curls further into Geralt’s secure hold, his anxiety petering off the longer Geralt held him safely in his strong arms. 

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Kai has 2 kids ? And none of them has ever tried to go to daddy and mommy room while they are doing .. the do ?! Of course it has to be kaito. A terrible nightmare. He wants comfort so goes there .hears mommy "screaming" so he just overhauld the door. Not let mommy die again (almost half awake hlalf sleeping). and kai's brain stopped for seconds *what a time to be attacked can't fight naked* and just the little man ruining everything. Kaito doesn't *fully* remember next day. Scenario pleaz

Kai is tired of Kaito not knocking on doors... baby just don't get that he need to knock on the doors! Its a polite thing to do Kaito!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All the day he had been cockbloqued...

Having Kaito in his life was definitely a life changed experience and he didn't regret it at all but dear god this kid wouldn't get too much away from you and WHEN HE LET YOU TWO ALONE it didn't take more than 2 minutes for this kid to come back, demanding your presence and one hundred percent of your affection.

He wasn't a brute... but at any point he was just going to become a cave man if this kid wouldn't let him have some quality time with HIS WIFE.

He lost count of how many silent wars he had with the toddler until the current days in favor of your attention...

Now it was night time, he could get what he wanted... nope, the brat today didn't wanted to sleep apparently, proclaiming that it wasn't his bedtime yet and that he wasn't tired.

Chisaki was this close to drugging Kaito into unconsciousness so he could at least have you for a few hours. This close.

"You and daddy don't go to bed at this hour, so why should I?" The kid asked looking up at you with serious eyes but the pout already forming.

"We are going to bed Kaito, but we; since we are boring adults; have some things to take care of." You carresed his dark brow hair gently, prompting a smirk from your little boy.

"Besides." You gave him a sudden raspberry on his cheek, making him yelp with laughter "If you actually sleep, me and dad will take a day off tomorrow and just have one of those lazy days."

"I didn't said I-"

"You will." You said before stucking your tongue out mockingly before returning your attention to your other baby. You didn't notice the way those golden eyes had darkened.

Yeah, continue showing this tongue to him to see what you get...

"All the day tommorow? No boring paperwork or me having to have lessons?" The child asked, looking hopefully at his father whose was at the entrance of his bedroom.

Chisaki sighed before answering in false irritation.

"Yes, you will have a break from your lessons, but only if you obey." The kid's smirk turned into a wide smile as he thanked his father.

Kaito hugged you tightly on the neck before kissing your cheek, looking his father in the ey the whole process.

Fucking brat.

"Have seeet dreams my sweet baby." You mumbled on his forehead.

"I'm not a baby mommy!" He complained while Chisaki approached only to pet his head as a good night.

"What? I call your daddy this all the time." You notice how Chisaki muscles tensed and the glare he sended to you.

"(Y/N)..." he growled as a warning, only making you giggle while Kaito finally settled down and felt his eyes heavy as his head hitted the pillow.

Both of you tip toed carefully before checking one more time on the child, closing the door very slowly.

"Not tired huh?" You whispered mockingly as you took one more last glance at your little sleeping boy.

"That brat just is stubborn." Groaned Chisaki in relief.

Finally.

"Like his father you mean?" The only answer he gave it to you was a dark glare before scooping you up in his arms, almost making you yelp.

"Kai what the hell?!" You whisper yelled, yet your smile still evident in your face.

... until he took of his mask with one hand while he holded you firmly against him with his arm and started to attack your neck like his life depended on it.

"I swear that I love that brat but for fuck's sake I'm tired of not getting what I want." He bite down on the crook of your neck, kissing slightly as a form of apology after hearing you whisper.

"Impacient are we?" You asked breathless, but definitely excited at this point.

"Definitely." He said closing the door behind him.

~

It wasn't normal for Kaito to have nightmares but when it happened it wasn't... exactly that bad.

But today he just had this weird drean that you walked out of the house, and didn't come back... his father had simply vanished and he was alone trying to find you... with no success.

He woke up, not screaming not crying either, just sweating cold and with a discomfort on his chest.

His eyes were still clouded with sleep, so he took the chance that he was at least half awake, to go into his parents room for some comfort...

He slowly got out under the fluffy covers of his bed and slowly made his way to his mommy and daddy's room.

Although when he was getting close to it he heard... noises.

You mostly were making sounds of... pain? Was mommy in pain?

His heart started to speed up along with his steps to his parents room, the noises only increased and was the breaking point for the little five years old, whose was very worried about his mommy at this point.

Where was daddy?! Why wouldn't he go in there and check what was wrong with you on the first place?!

He barged himself on the room yelling desperately but trying to sound threating.

"MOM ARE YOU OKAY?!"

Kai, in protective mode already, covered your form quickly while shouting with a dark and terrifying voice. Even making shivers run down on your sline, specially since you were so close to him.

"AVERT YOUR EYES!"

"Wait. Daddy?"

The room went silent and Kai felt his whole face burning at hearing his five years old boy voice in the room.

And his giggling, yet embarrassed as fuck, wife wasn't helping to his blush.

"Uh..? Daddy what are you doing on top of mommy? Is she hurt or something? Why you have purple marks on your neck and her's too? What does it mean 'avert'?"

The questions just kept coming and Chisaki, when he got back to his senses, groaned out loud while burring his face in the crook of your neck.

You poked him under the covers offering his underwear while trying to stiffle your own laughter. He took it quite abruptly from your hands and discreetly put it back... cringing.

"Kaito Chisaki don't you know how to knock?" He growled while getting out of bed.

"Sorry. I heard noises and thought momma was in pain." Now it was your tine to blush "are you okay mommy?" The child asked, trying to get close to you before Chisaki picked him up with a huff.

"Your mother is fine. Go back to sleep brat." He said leaving the room while Kaito waved a little good night to you.

"...ew dad you're sweaty. Why are you sweaty like this?" Kai groaned, containing his furious crinson blush forming on his face and ears.

"I went to a night run ok? Sleep." He said while putting the already knocked out child before making his way back to his room.

When he made eye contact with you, before locking the door TWICE, you started to laugh, makingbhim even more irritaded.

"D-Did you seriously just told a five years old to 'a-avert his eyes'?! Oh my god!" You picked a pillow to muffle your quacking while your husband sended you daggers through his glare.

"I honestly don't know which one was worse, Kaito barging in the room or that one time when Mimic entered..." he groaned in embarrassment while laying down again next to you, bringing his hands to his face.

You laughed even harder at his comment, which resulted a huff of his and a painful pinch on your side before he towered over you again.

"Wait. Still wanna-?"

"I don't like leaving the things I do in half angel." Were his last words... more like growls...

Shouldn't have laughed at him...

~

Bonus:

"Kaito..." the kid looked up from his coloring book to hsi rather nervous blushing parents.

"About last night..." you started.

The kid tilted his head in confusion, stopping his actions with his colorful pencil.

"What about?"

"You barged in our room... brat." Chisaki groaned, he really didn't wanted to have this talk...

"I did?" The kid askes in pure confusion.

Your faces features relaxed for a bit before you confirmed your suspecions.

"What was the last thing you remember about last night sweetie?" The kid looked down for a minute in thought before returning his (E/C) at you.

"You and daddy's promise to have a lazy day with me if I went to bed... Why?"

"Oh thank god." Both you and your husband sighed simultaneously while plopping down in your chairs in relief while Kaito only lifted up his eyebrow at both of you.

No talking about the birds and the bees... what a relief.

[baekchelor]

ａｓｈｏｒｅ[ii]

pairing: bodevan cash x reader genre: Doctor! AU, Romance, Angst summary: After a fall out with your fianceé, and an opportunity to chase your dreams, you embark into a medical mission trip to Namibia where you run into self-taught doctor Bodevan Cash. Love ensues. word count: 3.1k

❝how  foolish  to  believe  we  are  more  powerful  than  the  sea  or  the  sky. ❞                                                                                                         ― ruta  spetys

ONE ｓｅｖｅｎ ｄａｙｓ

◄ ｐｒｅｖ

You really, really hope some patient shows up today. That the doorbell announces the arrival of a doctor seeker. That you will be able to aid someone apart from the hangover teen (also staying at the Shipwreck Lodge Hotel, three cabins left from yours) who came looking for aspirins and serum. That you didn't cross the ocean on a medical mission trip only to crawl back into Ethan's arms drown-and-out —no adventures, no anecdotes, no experiences or anything for the matter.

You groan out loud, a stream of curses following shortly after. It's been seven days since your arrival to Möwe Bay, Namibia. Seven days of only you, your self-destructive mind and Guns N' Roses playing on the stereo (the single thing that has kept you sane).

"This trip was supposed to take my attention away from you," the words are purled and aimed to the exquisite ring around your finger. At the sight of it, your heart drops lower into your stomach. This been useless. You're trapped with your thoughts in the middle of nowhere. The sand dunes were chosen for their location, there was supposed to be no hospitals, no dispensaries, no medical aid...Nothing! Apparently, there's also no patients. Hence, no distractions. Which means? More time to stare at your flipping engagement ring.

Frustrated, you close your eyes and, confirming your hypothesis, the immediate image that triumphs the darkness is Ethan's blue eyes lighting up as you gasped —amidst weeps— at the ring. The one nowadays, you tend to resent.

The memory sends your stomach into knots. How are you supposed to make amends with Ethan's hidden truth if you can't bring your mind elsewhere? Far, far away from the burn around your knuckles each time the ring appears on your range of vision.

Ethan supported your decision to embark on a trip alone. He knows joining Doctors Without Borders was a dream of yours, and that marrying a Surgeon Chief would make it unreachable. The main reason you asked and he agreed, however, was that you went hysterical when Ethan's soon-to-be ex-wife surprised both of you at the hospital, your hospital—the hospital you worked at.

In a couple months, you will take Ethan Gandy as your husband, and he completely forgot to mention he has been married before. Worse than that, really. He didn't think of sharing with you that he still is married.

Ethan and Harper have been separated for six years, way before you came into the picture, and she knew about your existence all along. The divorce has been in the works since your very first date —or so Ethan says —,and Harper doesn't love Ethan anymore, Ethan loves you and not Harper, and by the time you return to Manhattan, their marriage would've seen its last dawn. Nevertheless, you have yet to make amends with it, chew it the enough to swallow it down your throat until you make sure it will settle in your gut and that you won't throw it up.

You need to. Because you love him.

When Ethan proposed, kneeled beside the fireplace at his hometown in Alaska, not once you considered saying no. It felt meant to be. Both valued your career, both spent more hours at the hospital than at home, but both were willing to make it work. You could handle it, you could make love at the examination rooms, most importantly, you wanted to spend the rest life with him, no matter the sacrifices. Because the truth is, before Ethan, you have only fallen in love with medicine, and he quickly became your very own McDreamy.

You met him during your first year as a Resident. He moved to New York for a fellowship in surgery, and he was brilliant, in every way. You admired him from afar, heard all the wonders he pulled on the O.R until one day you diagnosed a weird case of sudden onset of total vision loss that required urgent surgery. You worked together on the case, medical talk evolved into personal questions, winks, shy smiles on the halls up till Ethan stopped the elevator, cupped both sides of your face, and kissed you. He was ten years older than you, and the age difference didn't prevent him from becoming your very own definition of love. If looks could kill, his would make love to you. Ethan yearned for you, you yearned for him —every day, every hour, every minute. From your skin to your bones, you were his.

Ethan was a goodbye you couldn't say, and you feared —especially when he got promoted to Chief— that at some point your busy schedules would force a breakup, a disagreement, or maybe a stupid fight over a toaster. But then one snowy night, he soothed the worries away when he popped the question at a cabin in the middle of the woods, over a cup of Rioja and the most endearing words. The ring was a dream, with engraved diamonds around a sapphire, because several times during your relationship, you would look up at him with stars in your eyes, and whisper how much you treasure the sapphire blue of his orbs.

It is that shade of blue that ascertained you belong wherever he breathed, but the colour turned grey when his wife —ex-wife— came into your life.

Ah, Ethan has a wife.

You force yourself to neglect the ideas aside, though you can't seem to do so. Ethan doesn't love her, he didn't cheat on her with you, yet... it is hard to acknowledge the man you will marry already waited for a bride to walk down the aisle. Ethan promised to spend the rest of his life with another girl, and he did not fulfil that promise once... What makes you think he will keep his vows to you?

"So much for that," you curse again.

"So much for what?" comes a voice behind you, "I'm plainly in urgent need of Corticosteroids."

You turn on your heels, Guns N' Roses play This I Love, and you face a worried looking man. He has long, brown hair, and the bags under his eyes are a shade of plum. Is he an addict? The perspiration over his forehead and anxiety might be symptoms of withdrawal...He isn't puking, though, and he isn't trembling either. In fact, he seems worried, but he is patiently standing at the doorframe, waiting for your response.  

A response you don't seem to form. It could be the song, the waves crashing on the shore, or the fact you only had an Americano as breakfast, but the words have died in your throat, and you're entirely at a loss of action. This weird-looking boy feels magnetic, your body seems made of metal, and there's a force attracting you towards him. Maybe is because he looks out of a movie, with his psychedelic 70's style and the evident social awkwardness aura, but then Axl Rose sings about how he searched the universe and found himself within' her eyes and you realise that the magnet comes from his eyes. They're blue, not sapphire blue, ocean blue and they call to you.

After a second, you clear your throat, "I cannot hand you a drug without a prescription, sir. I need to examine you first."

"The patient isn't myself," he stutters. Hurriedly, he extends a hand your way, "Bodevan Cash."

As soon as your hand gets trapped in his, electricity jolts inside you. To your relief, he cuts it short, shaking your hand briefly. "What are the Corticosteroids for, Mr Cash?"

"Bo. You can call me Bo," right after he finishes, he drags his gaze away from yours. "Shortcut for B-Bodevan." His left foot bounces, anxious, and he's brought up his bottom lip between his teeth. He babbles, and it makes you nervous as well, "Eighteen Year-old. Preeclamptic toxaemia. Twenty weeks of gestation."

You abruptly realise the stethoscope around his neck. Right. He is a doctor.  

"How serious?" you blurt. This is your chance to practice medicine. Finally. "I-I'm an internist. I might be of help."

Bodevan glances at you, questioningly, then he returns his attention to the floor, "Are you a Christian?"

For the first time in seven days, you laugh, "No. I am not." The laughter is a gruff, gravelly thing, the kind of chortle you would have expected from an old man, a lifetime smoker, not a successful young doctor who is about to marry the love of her life.

Bo's face pinched up in a crooked smile, "Good." He grabs your coffee cup, takes a big slurp and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he is out.

Unsure of what is meant to be your next move, you don't follow him outdoor. Not until he asks you to hasten in a very weirdly-worded polite way.

Bodevan is waiting for you beside his combi, which is parked on a parch of grass beside your cabin. When he spots you, medical kit tightly clasped, he runs around to open the passenger door for you. Once you're close by, he offers a hand to help you up. You ignore if the source of the live wires across your bloodstream is the gentle touch of his calloused fingers or the insides of the van. Your jaw drops. It is dramatically different from Ethan's BMW but in a better way. Bodevan adapted the vehicle into an Examination Room, and the work is so well done and complete it even has a couch so the patients can sit at the reception. <<A reception. Inside. A. Combi.>>

The doctor is now at the drivers-side of the van, the window rolled down. He reaches inside and flips the lock. It takes Bodevan less than a minute to hop inside, and even less to ignite the combi and speed across the sand-path highway.

"Moharerwa. Our Patient," he speaks. "She refuses the induced labour procedure."

It all makes sense now.

"You want the Corticosteroids to buy her time," that's why Bo is in such a hurry, probably also why he is anxious. He needs to medicate her corticosteroid to prolong her pregnancy and help the baby's lungs become more mature in little time to prepare it for life outside the womb. And Bo needs to do it fast, or else Moharerwa's preeclampsia will evolve into eclampsia, and she'll perish.

"The baby's life is the priority?" If she's 20 weeks pregnant, there's no other reason why she isn't on an O.R at this very moment, than to gain more time for her premature baby.

"For her," Bo says, his voice an octave lower. "For me, they both are."

You lean against the hood of the truck, not knowing what to say back, and allowing the classical music blasting from the speakers to continue their excellent job of keeping your thoughts away from Ethan Gandy.

And near the possibilities to save lives today.

Twenty minutes later, Bodevan murmurs —you're having a hard time deciphering if he's mumbling things to himself or to you—, that you've reached the destination. Eyebrows knitted, you wonder if the giant teepee in front of you hides a clinic instead of fancy carpets for a picnic at the Skeleton Coast.

"Let's go," he says, briefly meeting your eyes. As soon as you nod, Bo rushes out of the vehicle and into the teepee. You follow suit, every bit of amazed by your discovers. At least ten people are laying on cots, covered by colourful blankets in tribal patterns, and other five people have beelined at the couch inside Bo's combi. There's a wall with porcelain jars labelled with medicine and herbs names, a chest of drawers with mortars and pestles on its surface, and a portrait of Mao Zedong in the middle of it all.

The weirdness of the surroundings amazes you, but your attention is consumed by Bodevan Cash wearing a white coat, concerned eyes as he exchanges words with a red-skinned pretty girl. She must belong to the Himbas. You've read about the tradition of the Himba women apply red ochre butter to their skin and hair each morning. She is gorgeous, and so is the pregnant girl (Moharerwa, you assume) laying on the cot, where Bodevan is leaned into as he continues talking in an unknown language.

The concern in his gaze is familiar. You've seen it in Ethan's features when his patients are on a thin line against the veil of death.

"Tell Rellian to prepare," he instructs, getting rid of his white coat. You don't know if it's a good idea to chase his trace outside, but your feet didn't wait for your decision.

Bodevan takes his tank-top off, brings his hair into a bun and carefully lays down on the sand. He stares at the ocean as if the motion of the waves would induce the same rhythm to his heart. Then he brings his tighs, arms and palms into a lotus position as the salty-foam of the sea kisses his toes.

The last thing you want to do is disturb him, especially now that he's about to go on surgery, but your subconscious has a different plan, and she's made sure to glue your eyes at the muscles of his back, shifting each time he breathes in and out. He utters two words in a language you can't understand and ends his meditation by getting on his feet. Bodevan's palms are pressed together, thumbs close to his chest, and fingers pointing upwards when he slightly bows at the ocean, "Namaste."

He hesitates at your figure waiting for him, and for the tenth time today, he avoids your gaze, this time by looking down at his footprints on the wet sand, the ones that lead straight to you. Bodevan grabs his stethoscope and places it over the left side of his chest. He still neglects your stare, blue eyes dancing from one side to another, as his lips count his heartbeats. Satisfied by the cadence, he nods to himself.

Finally, Bodevan approaches you, "I need to scrub in. Moharerwa has signs of Fetal Distress and Placental Abruption." The sound of his voice is careful, laced with concern, but you're unsure if he's worried about you peace of mind, or his upcoming surgery. "Could you take over the clinic for me? I've rounds to make and six patients waiting to be examined. Peraa will help you out. She's kind of -the n-nurse here."

Kind of?

What he means with kind of?

Each word coming out of Bodavan's pretty lips increase your questions about the workflow in this clinic. He's got a kind-of-a-nurse, and he will scrub in with only his brother to assist him. No anesthesiologists, no scrub tech, no circulating tech, no nurses —because apparently, he's got any, just one that kind of is.

Bo notices your worrisome instantly. "Let me check your heart rate," he untangles the stethoscope from around his neck and places it over the skin of your chest. He explains his modus-operandi, the charts you will take over, and how Peraa can be of help.

Afterwards —and you don't know if he's doing for you or for himself— he goes over the surgery procedure. You swallow, trying to even your heart rate because the number of contractions per minute has increased considerably. Maybe it is rushing out because Bodevan is shirtless, acting all doctor like, and he seems like a flipping genius. He's an expert on anaesthesia, he's memorised the surgery, and diagnosed Moharerwa in a heartbeat. Most importantly, he comprehends the importance of engaging with a fresh mind and spirit, which lots of doctors doesn't. 

Bodevan bites his lower lip, considering for a while, and that's when you know you're doomed.

"It's… faster than average…" slowly, Bo averts his eyes to find yours, lips stretching into a crooked smirk. You, on the other hand, flush a beet red. Saving you from your embarrassment is the fact that he seems as nervous as you (Thank the heavens!). He moves closer, ear tips removed, and his index and middle finger rest over your neck, at the side of your windpipe.

For the first time since you met him, he is gazing down directly at you. There's not a shy look-away, or discomfort present on his body language, quite the contrary. He's grabbed your shaky hands and entwine them with his. But you're no fool, you distinguish what the shape of his mouth is silently counting. You know he's trying to ease his heart rate as well. Bodevan rests his forehead against yours, "Close your eyes, please. A little while."

"Okay," you murmur shyly, casting your eyes downward to the sight of your intertwined palms before allowing your lids to flutter shut.

"Even your pulse, cool down your breathing," he murmurs, but nonetheless shrugs nonchalantly. His hands have freed yours only to travel upside to reach your shoulders, where they hold reassuringly. "There's no pressure, we do what we can, we try, we try hard, but we are not overpowered by the pressure."

Of course, you know that, and you're thankful for his kind words. Moreover, you are grateful because he thinks that's the cause of your uneven heart rate when, in reality, he is the one rushing it. He makes you nervous. Really flipping nervous.

When you open up your eyes to meet his, he's staring intently at you, with the same wildness you've grown accustomed in the few hours you've met him. His eyes are blue like the ocean, blue like a sunless sky. You met a sky without a sun, and a man without floor — a doctor who's clinic is a teepee, who meditates before surgery, who seems to be every medical specialist. And know, although is weird and you don't know what the hell is wrong with you, something in your inside squirms and yells today you found a pair of eyes you cannot live without.

Bodavan intrigues you, out of extent. You've crossed the globe, travelled from New York to Namibia, have a fianceé, and yet, you've never encounter eyes like his.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Your eyes look like the morning sky," you mumble, every inch a fool. He smiles.

"And yours look like chocolate."  

A pinch of guilt turns your throat into knots. The last thing you want is to "feel you belong" in the reflection of Bodevan's eyes. You don't belong in África, miles away from everything you're close of. You belong with your family, your friends, people you know how they're really like, not someone you've just met. You belong with Ethan. You still had no idea what you were doing here, other than hiding out very temporarily while Ethan took care of his… divorce. After that, you were going to take a plane back home.

Right?

[arcticdementor]

In the summer of 2014, I gave birth to a baby boy. He was born with a perfect Apgar score, after a very easy delivery. But my labor had not been smooth—in fact, throughout the day and a half of contractions, I believed there was something decidedly wrong. I also felt that way as I held him for the first time, and he writhed violently under my hands. In a video taken about 10 minutes after he was born, he can be seen lifting his head up off my chest. “Ooooh, look at how advanced he is!” someone can be heard trilling in the background, before her voice is overtaken by my own. “Don’t do that, love,” I say. Then, to the camera: “Does he seem like he’s in pain to you?”

It took my husband and me three years to understand that in fact I was right that day in the delivery room. Our son was hurt. And it will take him years to heal—longer than it should have, and that is on top of the injustice of the original wound—though I thank God every day that we figured it out.

The first breakthrough came when my husband David remembered a book about brain science he had read a decade earlier, by a doctor named Norman Doidge. It changed our lives, by allowing us to properly understand our son’s injury (and to understand why we couldn’t manage to get a straight answer about it from any of the “experts” we had seen). It’s been a tough road, but from that moment on, we at least knew what to do—and why.

A year or so later, we met Doidge and his wife, Karen, for dinner, and it is here that the story may become pertinent for you.

After we ordered, I told Norman I had a question I’d been wanting to ask—and that I wanted his honest answer to it, even if it meant that I had done something wrong. I proceeded to relay to him the entire tale, from the very beginning to that very moment, of what felt to me like our Kafkaesque medical mystery journey.

How was it, I then asked, that it took my husband and me—both children of doctors, both people with reporting and researching backgrounds, among the lucky who have health insurance, and with access through family and friends to what is billed as the best medical care in the country—years to figure this out, and that in the end we only did so basically by accident?

Norman looked at us sympathetically. “I don’t know how else to tell you this but bluntly,” he said. “There are still many good individuals involved in medicine, but the American medical system is profoundly broken. When you look at the rate of medical error—it's now the third leading cause of death in the U.S.—the overmedication, creation of addiction, the quick-fix mentality, not funding the poor, quotas to admit from ERs, needless operations, the monetization of illness vs. health, the monetization of side effects, a peer review system run by journals paid for by Big Pharma, the destruction of the health of doctors and nurses themselves by administrators, who demand that they rush through 10-minute patient visits, when so often an hour or more is required, and which means that in order to be ‘successful,’ doctors must overlook complexity rather than search for it ... Alana, the unique thing here isn’t that you fell down so many rabbit holes. What’s unique is that you found your way out at all.”

I had barely started processing this when Norman moved to change the subject: “Now, can I ask you two something? How come so much of the journalism I read seems like garbage?”

Oh, God.

David and I looked at each other, simultaneously realizing that the after-school special we thought we were in was actually a horror movie. If the medical industry was comprehensively broken, as Norman said, and the media was irrevocably broken, as we knew it was ... Was everything in America broken? Was education broken? Housing? Farming? Cities? Was religion broken?

Everything is broken.

…

For seven decades, the country’s intellectual and cultural life was produced and protected by a set of institutions—universities, newspapers, magazines, record companies, professional associations, cultural venues, publishing houses, Hollywood studios, think tanks, etc. Collectively, these institutions reflected a diversity of experiences and then stamped them all as “American”—conjuring coherence out of the chaos of a big and unwieldy country. This wasn’t a set of factories pumping out identical widgets, but rather a broad and messy jazz band of disparate elements that together produced something legible, clear, and at times even beautiful when each did their part.

…

This was the tinder. The tech revolution was the match—one-upping the ’70s economy by demanding more efficiency and more speed and more boundarylessness, and demanding it everywhere. They introduced not only a host of inhuman wage-suppressing tactics, like replacing full-time employees with benefits with gig workers with lower wages and no benefits, but also a whole new aesthetic that has come to dominate every aspect of our lives—a set of principles that collectively might be thought of as flatness.

Flatness is the reason the three jobs with the most projected growth in your country all earn less than $27,000 a year, and it is also the reason that all the secondary institutions that once gave structure and meaning to hundreds of millions of American lives—jobs and unions but also local newspapers, churches, Rotary Clubs, main streets—have been decimated. And flatness is the mechanism by which, over the past decade and with increasing velocity over the last three years, a single ideologically driven cohort captured the entire interlocking infrastructure of American cultural and intellectual life. It is how the Long March went from a punchline to reality, as one institution after another fell and then entire sectors, like journalism, succumbed to control by narrow bands of sneering elitists who arrogated to themselves the license to judge and control the lives of their perceived inferiors.

Flatness broke everything.

…

Today’s revolution has been defined by a set of very specific values: boundarylessness; speed; universal accessibility; an allergy to hierarchy, so much so that the weighting or preferring of some voices or products over others is seen as illegitimate; seeing one’s own words and face reflected back as part of a larger current; a commitment to gratification at the push of a button; equality of access to commodified experiences as the right of every human being on Earth; the idea that all choices can and should be made instantaneously, and that the choices made by the majority in a given moment, on a given platform represent a larger democratic choice, which is therefore both true and good—until the next moment, on the next platform.

…

“You might not even realize you’re not where you started.” The machines trained us to accept, even chase, this high. Once we accepted it, we turned from willful individuals into parts of a mass that could move, or be moved, anywhere. Once people accepted the idea of an app, you could get them to pay for dozens of them—if not more. You could get people to send thousands of dollars to strangers in other countries to stay in homes they’d never seen in cities they’d never visited. You could train them to order in food—most of their food, even all of their food—from restaurants that they’d never been to, based on recommendations from people they’d never met. You could get them to understand their social world not as consisting of people whose families and faces one knew, which was literally the definition of social life for hundreds of thousands of years, but rather as composed of people who belonged to categories—“also followed by,” “friends in common,” “BIPOC”—that didn’t even exist 15 years ago. You could create a culture in which it was normal to have sex with someone whose two-dimensional picture you saw on a phone, once.

You could, seemingly overnight, transform people’s views about anything—even everything.

The Obama administration could swiftly overturn the decision-making space in which Capitol Hill staff and newspaper reporters functioned so that Iran, a country that had killed thousands of Americans and consistently announces itself to be America’s greatest enemy, is now to be seen as inherently as trustworthy and desirable an ally as France or Germany. Flatness, frictionlessness.

The biological difference between the sexes, which had been a foundational assumption of medicine as well as of the feminist movement, was almost instantaneously replaced not only by the idea that there are numerous genders but that reference in medicine, law or popular culture to the existence of a gender binary is actually bigoted and abusive. Flatness.

Facebook’s longtime motto was, famously, “Move fast and break shit,” which is exactly what Silicon Valley enabled others to do.

The internet tycoons used the ideology of flatness to hoover up the value from local businesses, national retailers, the whole newspaper industry, etc.—and no one seemed to care. This heist—by which a small group of people, using the wiring of flatness, could transfer to themselves enormous assets without any political, legal or social pushback—enabled progressive activists and their oligarchic funders to pull off a heist of their own, using the same wiring. They seized on the fact that the entire world was already adapting to a life of practical flatness in order to push their ideology of political flatness—what they call social justice, but which has historically meant the transfer of enormous amounts of power and wealth to a select few.

Because this cohort insists on sameness and purity, they have turned the once-independent parts of the American cultural complex into a mutually validating pipeline for conformists with approved viewpoints—who then credential, promote and marry each other. A young Ivy League student gets A’s by parroting intersectional gospel, which in turn means that he is recommended by his professors for an entry-level job at a Washington think tank or publication that is also devoted to these ideas. His ability to widely promote those viewpoints on social media is likely to attract the approval of his next possible boss or the reader of his graduate school application or future mates. His success in clearing those bars will in turn open future opportunities for love and employment. Doing the opposite has an inverse effect, which is nearly impossible to avoid given how tightly this system is now woven. A person who is determined to forgo such worldly enticements—because they are especially smart, or rich, or stubborn—will see only examples of even more talented and accomplished people who have seen their careers crushed and reputations destroyed for daring to stick a toe over the ever multiplying maze of red lines.

So, instead of reflecting the diversity of a large country, these institutions have now been repurposed as instruments to instill and enforce the narrow and rigid agenda of one cohort of people, forbidding exploration or deviation—a regime that has ironically left homeless many, if not most, of the country’s best thinkers and creators. Anyone actually concerned with solving deep-rooted social and economic problems, or God forbid with creating something unique or beautiful—a process that is inevitably messy and often involves exploring heresies and making mistakes—will hit a wall. If they are young and remotely ambitious they will simply snuff out that part of themselves early on, strangling the voice that they know will get them in trouble before they’ve ever had the chance to really hear it sing.

…

I’m not looking to rewind the clock back to a time before we all had email and cellphones. What I want is to be inspired by the last generation that made a new life-world—the postwar American abstract expressionist painters, jazz musicians, and writers and poets who created an alternate American modernism that directly challenged the ascendant Communist modernism: a blend of forms and techniques with an emphasis not on the facelessness of mass production, but on individual creativity and excellence.

Like them, our aim should be to take the central, unavoidable and potentially beneficent parts of the Flatness Aesthetic (including speed, accessibility; portability) while discarding the poisonous parts (frictionlessness; surveilled conformism; the allergy to excellence). We should seek out friction and thorniness, hunt for complexity and delight in unpredictability. Our lives should be marked not by “comps” and metrics and filters and proofs of concept and virality but by tight circles and improvisation and adventure and lots and lots of creative waste.

And not just to save ourselves, but to save each other. The vast majority of Americans are not ideologues. They are people who wish to live in a free country and get along with their neighbors while engaging in profitable work, getting married, raising families, being entertained, and fulfilling their American right to adventure and self-invention. They are also the consumer base for movies, TV, books, and other cultural products. Every time Americans are given the option to ratify progressive dictates through their consumer choices, they vote in the opposite direction. When HBO removed Gone with the Wind from its on-demand library last year, it became the #1 bestselling movie on Amazon. Meanwhile, endless numbers of Hollywood right-think movies and supposed literary masterworks about oppression are dismal failures for studios and publishing houses that would rather sink into debt than face a social-justice firing squad on Twitter.

[lurafita]

It IS easy to kidnap Spiderman (If Peter Parker has to go to a board meeting)

This has also been posted at AO3, but I thought it might be good to have a back-up of the story on another website. Just in case.

Summary: Slightly crack-ish, not to be taken too seriously, mostly just written for fun. Peter has to go to an S.I. board meeting. Peter doesn’t want to go to an S.I. board meeting. Peter can’t come up with an excuse to not go to an S.I. board meeting. Peter needs a miracle. … Or, alternatively, a van full of kidnappers.

“I’m going to die!”

Peter whined as he, Ned and MJ crossed the street. Ned shot his best friend a somewhat sympathetic look, while the girl in the group rolled her eyes.

“You are not going to die because you have to sit through one measly big wig meeting.”

Peter ignored her.

“Goodbye oh cruel world. How heartlessly you rip me from existence.”

MJ folded her arms as they kept walking.

“You do realize that as the official heir to Stark Industries, you are going to have to deal with this stuff all the time, right?”

Peter dramatically gripped his chest, looking up into the sky.

“The lights… are fading… Limbs… growing cold… I see… a tunnel… Mother, is that… you?… Begging me.. to go… into the light?… Must. Move. Towards. The. Light! I am… going… Home… Goodbye cruel world! … Rose…bud.”

And then he gracelessly slumped against the store front to his left, slowly sliding down. Ned clapped politely, while Michelle kept frowning.

“Really? The possum from ‘Over the hedge’?”

Peter was up in an instant.

“Don’t diss the classics, MJ.”

And there went the eye roll again.

“My point stands. You are one day going to head one of the most, if not the most, successful and important enterprises in the world. You are going to need to learn how to do it. And like it or not, that includes sitting through board meetings.”

They stopped at an intersection, waiting for the light to turn green.

“But it’s gonna be so boring! They will be talking about market value and sales figures and the development of our sister companies and the possibilities of future trading partners, and I’m going to fall asleep, okay? I’m going to fall asleep right there, and then I will slide from the chair and crack my head open on the incredibly expensive meeting table, and then I will be bleeding out on the floor, - which is probably carpeted with imported, high quality, unicorn hair. And then everyone is going to look at me all judgmental like, and Pepper and Tony are gonna rethink leaving their billion dollar baby in the hands of a super spaz like me. And if I somehow survive bleeding to death on unicorn hair carpet, I will die of shame.”

The light finally turned and the three friends proceeded.

“Unicorn hair?” Ned questioned.

“It’s so soft!” Peter answered with huge, awe-filled eyes. “And you guys haven’t even heard the worst part! Pepper said I can’t bring Hope!”

Now his best male friend looked appropriately shocked by this absolute travesty, but his best female friend just continued to roll her eyes at him. Peter wondered if she ever got dizzy from it.

“Seriously? You are not allowed to bring your overly affectionate and enthusiastic dog to an important board meeting? What is the world coming to?”

Her sarcasm went right over the brunettes head.

“Right?”

Peter and Hope, his shelter rescue Pit Bull, had been pretty much inseparable ever since the teenager adopted the beautiful ball of barely contained love. The only times you would find one without the other was when Peter went out as Spiderman, or when he needed to go to school. He had actually tried sneaking Hope into school with him on the first day, after summer vacation had ended. Needless to say, that plan had been thwarted by the ever present eyes of Friday.

It was a bit of a miracle that Ned and MJ had been able to talk Peter into trying out that new diner that had opened up a few streets away from their school, without the other teenager running home first to bring his loyal follower with them. Though that had probably to do with Peter’s unwillingness to step foot in the tower until he absolutely had to. After all, there was always the chance that Pepper or Tony would just keep him there to further prep him for the upcoming meeting.

Ned nudged him playfully in the side.

“You know, most people would be fruit loops ecstatic about being gifted the inheritance of a multi-billion dollar company for their 17th birthday, instead of complaining about having to attend a meeting.”

Peter just loved that his best friend had picked up his way of swearing.

“I’m not trying to be ungrateful here, I just don’t see the point! After all, it’s not like I will be running any of those meetings once I take over.”

This statement was met with curious stares from both of his friends.

“And how do you figure that, loser?”

Said teen casually threw up his arms and intertwined his fingers behind his head.

“Well, I thought I would just hire you as the acting CEO, so, you know, you can completely dominate the business world and make everyone your little licorice. And everyone will of course include Ned here, who will be head of S.I. Robotics department by then, and yours truly, as I will be french frying around our biochemistry labs whenever I’m not 'on the web’.”

(Which was their extremely unoriginal code for Peter’s Spiderman activities.)

Peter was only slightly surprised by the twin slaps he received to both of his arms.

“The hell, Parker!”

“Dude, that’s not how you tell someone they have an amazing job waiting for them after university!”

To which he just shrugged his shoulders.

“What? It’s pretty much how Tony told me I was the god donuts heir to his and Peppers company. Well, actually he came into the kitchen on the morning of my birthday, while me and Hope were just enjoying breakfast after our early run, and dropped a stack of papers right before me. Then he waved a pen in front of my face and tapped it onto the bottom line on the paper on top of the stack and said: 'Sign here.’ So, naturally, I did, and as soon as I had finished signing, he snatched everything back and said: 'Congrats, kid. You are now the official heir to Stark Industries. Happy Birthday.’ And that was that.”

He immediately received another slap on his arm from MJ.

“You signed something without reading it first? What kind of a moron are you? That’s not how you run a freaking business!”

Peter pointed at her victoriously.

“See! This is exactly why I need you! You are already better at it than I am.”

He looked incredibly satisfied with his reasoning. Ned, who was still not completely over the shock of the metaphorical bomb their friend had just dropped on them, still couldn’t help but agree.

“He’s got a point, MJ. I mean, can you really imagine Pete here, sitting at the head of a table, filled with twenty suit wearing people, and telling them what to do? Face it, you are just way more intimidating than him.”

Peter was nodding along quite happily, though the girl only snorted.

“Please, a marshmallow stuffed cupcake is more intimidating than Parker.”

“Hey! I mean, that does sound ridiculously delicious so I’m kinda flattered, but still!… Do you think we can get that cupcake somewhere?”

Ned smirked. “Well, seeing as you are about to die a horribly pathetic death, I guess we can at least ask when we get to the diner. They are bound to have something overly sugary to satisfy your sweet tooth.”

And Peter slumped once more.

“Did you have to remind me of my impending doom? Why is there never an uprising of the mole people when you need it? Not that I want anyone to be in danger or anything, but a minor little catastrophe, to keep Spiderman occupied long enough to have a valid reason to miss the meeting, would be really, french fruit loops frying appreciated right now.”

And for once, it seemed like some higher power had heard and took pity on the spider-enhanced teenager. Because at exactly that moment, a black, large van was barreling down the street behind them, coming to a screeching halt right next to the three on the sidewalk. Peter instinctively took hold of both of his friends arms and drew them back behind himself, as the side door of the van slid open, and three masked men with guns in their hands emerged out of it. The other pedestrians on the street fled in a light panic at the sight of the armed men.

One of the men, apparently the leader of the group, pointed his gun right at Peter.

“You! Peter Parker! Get into the van, and no one is gonna get hurt!”

Peter looked at him with wide, stunned eyes.

“Are you… trying to kidnap me?”

The leader waved his gun impatiently.

“Not trying to. In the van! Now!”

And to the three kidnappers absolute astonishment (as well as their driver’s, who was still seated behind the wheel) the kid threw his hands up in the air, joyfully whooped, and then sprinted, actually fucking sprinted, right by them to leap into the vehicle. A timeless second went by, as everyone was trying to process what had just happened. (Well, not everyone. Michelle and Ned were simply sending their friend completely unimpressed glares)

Then the teen leaned slightly out of the car.

“Look, I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job or anything, but maybe we should get going? You know, before someone calls the cops? Just saying.”

That seemed to rouse the masked men from their confusion and spurred them into action. Before the door slid shut behind the last one, Peter pinned his two friends with a very serious look.

“Don’t call him! At least not before six o'clock!”

The meeting was scheduled for 18:30, and he was supposed to be at the tower no later than 18:15. He would never make it! With that gleeful thought, Peter relaxed into the backseat and faced the group leader.

“Do you think we can make a quick stop at a drive-thru or something? I was actually on my way to lunch, you know?”

And then Ned and Michelle were left in the figurative dust, as they watched the van speed away, transporting their friend to who knows where.

The inherently more worried Ned turned to his female companion.

“Should we… like call the police? Or Mr. Stark? Or the other Avengers?”

Michelle scoffed.

“Calm down, Leeds. The loser can handle himself. Besides, our future employer has given us strict instructions to not call anyone and report what happened just yet. We will shoot Stark a text at six. It’s not like he won’t find his idiot son in a heartbeat. Until then, let’s go to that diner, I’m starving. I’m also gonna have to research some meditation exercises or something. My future self is going to need all the patience in the world if I’m expected to deal with this kind of bullshit every time I have to drag Peter to a meeting.”

“Pep, Pepsi to my Coke, Pepperoni on my pizza, love of my life! Why do I have to go to the board meeting?”

Pepper ignored her fiance’s whining, something she had tremendous experience with, and instead held up another tie against the man’s white shirt, comparing it to the maroon one in her other hand.

“Because you thought it would be a good idea to announce the heir of Stark Industries on live television. And now the board wants to meet Peter.”

Deciding on the maroon tie, she laid the other one over the back of a nearby chair. Tony huffed as Pepper expertly bound a Windsor knot.

“Exactly. They want to meet the kid. Not me. They know me! Everyone knows me! My name is on the building.”

Having finished with the tie, Pepper grabbed the dark suit jacket next.

“It’s your own fault. If you had waited to reveal Peter as the heir to the company until he finished college, like you were supposed to, you wouldn’t have to deal with this now.”

Tony shrugged the jacket on and tried to look as innocent as possible when he countered with “I had no choice! Ellen totally tricked me into it.”

The flat stare his fiance shot him spoke volumes. “She asked you what exciting new surprises the next Expo held in store for everyone.”

To which the billionaire waved his hand dismissively. “Semantics.”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

“It will be a good experience for Pete. He pretty much knows all about the inner workings and procedures in the labs, but he needs to get to know the business side of things, too.”

“Which is what he has you for. Why do I have to be there?”

She adjusted the jacket, righted the tie and gave him a quick kiss.

“As moral support. And to set a good example. Which means no playing on your phone, no snorting or groaning noises when you get bored, and no rolling your eyes when Henderson brings up project 99.”

Tony groaned. “Henderson always brings up project 99. The guy is like a broken record. It was a bad idea the first time he proposed it, and it continues to be a bad idea now. Why is he even still on the board?”

“Because he is six months away from retirement and we wouldn’t be so cruel as to demote or fire him before then. And now stop whining and get ready. The meeting starts in twenty five minutes and Peter should be here any moment now.”

With an overly dramatic sigh, the man let himself fall backwards onto their king sized bed. Much to the displeasure of Hope, who had curled up on one of the pillows to mope until his favorite human came back again. “Sorry buddy.” Tony scratched the dog behind his ears in apology. Then he looked forlornly at the ceiling. “Why is there never an alien invasion when you need one?”

Which was, naturally, the perfect moment for Friday to announce “Incoming Video call from 'Boss Junior’.”

Pepper crossed her arms under her chest. “Oh, he better not try to get out of this meeting.”

Tony’s line of thought was similar. “He better have a damn good excuse for getting out of this meeting.”

The vid-link opened via the towers holographic screens, and the couples eyes immediately focused on Peter. Who was sitting in a badly lit room, empty of all furniture save for the chair the teen was tied to (with what looked like completely normal rope, which they knew Peter could snap like silly string), and behind him a tall, well muscled man, dressed completely in black, donning a black ski mask, and a hand gun pointed right at Peter’s head.

Now, a sight like this would usually propel Tony right into heart attack territory, - if it wasn’t for the big ass grin on the kid’s face.

“Hi Tony! Hi Pepper! So, as you can see, I have been kidnapped.” (Under his breath, Tony couldn’t help but concede “Damn, that’s a good excuse.”) “It was completely unavoidable and absolutely against my own will.” (Pepper groaned. “Are you kidding me?”) “I mean, of course it was against my will! Because who in their right minds would jump into a van full of armed kidnappers, when they have an important meeting to attend later that same day? Certainly not me!” (“That clever little shit!”)

By that point Hope had recognized his owners voice and was crawling all over Tony to get a better look at the holo screen, barking happily. Peter’s whole face lit up at the sight of his dog.

“Hey Hope. Yes, I miss you too. Are you a good boy for Tony and Pepper?”

And as Peter cooed at his dog, Tony tried to not have his nose constantly slapped by a wildly wagging tail, and Pepper was burying her face into her hands, the looming, dark figure behind Peter apparently decided that he had been patient enough with his 'victim’, and slightly nudgded the teen’s shoulder. Peter looked up at the man with a sheepish grin.

“Sorry, dude. Anyway, I’m supposed to tell you that if you want me to be returned in one piece, you need to transfer one million dollars-” Then Peter turned back to the man behind him. “Are you sure you only want a million? Think about it. You need to split this up between the four of you, which is only 250000$ for everyone. And you will have to withdraw the money pretty much right away, otherwise Mr. Stark will be able to follow the money trail right to you. Also, you will want to leave the country pretty quickly after this, cause, you know, that’s Iron Man you are dealing with here. But with that much cash in your possession, you can’t use a commercial flight, cause they check your bags and stuff and 250 grand would probably raise a few eyebrows. Which leaves you with the only option of paying someone to get you out under the radar, and that probably won’t be cheap… Have you really thought this through?”

The man looked at Peter (his posture had lost it’s threatening stance long ago), then at the person who was obviously holding Peter’s phone to record the video, then at Peter again, and then he made the universal sign to 'end the call’ at the camera and with that, the feed cut off.

Friday’s helpful: “The video call has been cut off, boss.”, was followed by “You have also received a text message from 'The Scary One’, which reads: 'FYI, your idiot son has let himself get kidnapped in order to avoid shameful death on unicorn hair.’ - End message.”

And while Tony had no idea what the part about unicorn hair could possibly be about, he had long since learned not to ask questions.

Pepper did not have to look up to know that her fiance was sporting a downright gleeful look right then.

“So… looks like the Spiderling needs rescuing.” He was edging off his seat on the bed (having deposited Hope from his lap earlier) and had already taken off his tie and suit jacket. “What terrible, terrible timing. And here I was so looking forward to talking about project 99 with good old Henderson. Such a shame.” He was halfway across the room, the Iron Man armor already forming around him. “Oh well, can’t be helped. Gotta go save Pete from his evil kidnappers now. Fri, locate his watch, please. Thanks, girl. Guess we will have to postpone this whole business meeting introduction thingy. Gotta get going before the kid accidentally teaches these guys how to be real criminals. Love you, Pep. Have fun at the meeting! Bye!”

Then the sound of the opening of one of the large windows, followed by the thrusters of the suit, and before Pepper even had time to wave him off, Iron Man was flying through the New York sky.

For reasons Pepper was quite comfortable never to examine, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Like Father, like Son. Both running from meetings whenever they can and leaving me to deal with it.”

A warm, furry body cuddled into her legs and she smiled as she lovingly pet the Pit Bulls head.

“You know what? Screw it. Peter is going to sneak you into one of those meetings sooner or later anyway. (And I will get him to attend one, he can’t get himself kidnapped every time). Better to get the board used to you. And if they can’t meet their future boss, they will at least meet his dog. What do you say, Hope, do you want to go to a boring board meeting with me?”

Her answer was an excited bark and a lot of tail wagging.

“Good boy.”

The End

I wasn’t actually sure how to end this one. There was always the option of following Tony to the hide-out the kidnappers had Peter at, just for him to burst in and see Peter (free of any kind of restraints), sitting in a circle with his kidnappers (all of whom had divested themselves of their ski masks), and explaining to them various ways on how to better plan their next heist. Or how to make money without using illegal means. Or giving them advice on going back to school/getting their GED (-that is what it is called, right?), or how volunteering at an animal shelter might help them with their parole officer later on…

But then I thought, nah, leave that to the imagination of the readers, or refer to it in a later part of the series if you want.

As I said in the beginning, this was basically written just for the fun of it. Never the less, I would be happy to know if you liked/enjoyed it.

Thanks to everyone for reading!