#He’s like that picture of the guy sleeping on the floor with motorcycle in bed instead (I want to draw that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fantasydaydreamers · 3 years

Note

Just started watching Haikyuu and kuroo is my god i swear. hes so tall and looks like hes a dirty mf. need me one of him in my life (aged up obv) 😭

"Gang Related" BadBoy!Kuroo x Reader

Word Count: 5,480

Warings: Blood/wounds, Smut

Author’s Note: This was so fun to write and come up with a scenario forrrr🥺(my mf weakNESS) I hope you enjoy~

Notorious.

That wasn't the only word you would use to describe him, but if you looked it up in the dictionary, his picture would be underneath it with a cocky smirk in agreement. He was top dog--the streets feared him and he liked to run shit like he owned everything. Kuroo Tetsuro was his name and in the wrong parts of town, if you so happen to even utter it, you were asking for a fight.

It was irritating.

It all started back in high school before he became a well-known gang leader. It was late one night after you had just spent hours studying for exams, finally retiring to your bed, when the reviving of engines outside your window started up. You were sure they were just passing by, but the constant noise had you tossing and turning in your bed for the past hour as you tried to fall asleep. How the police weren't called despite the clear noise complaint was beyond your comprehension, but you were getting close to your breaking point.

It became clear to you who was the source of the noise was, the longer you laid there staring at the ceiling and the idea of him made you scowl in distaste. As if he wasn't annoying enough at school by wandering the halls and picking fights almost every week, causing trouble this late at night just goes to show how bored he must be. The fact that he had nothing better to do besides tearing up the streets late at night with his little gang of groupies made you irritated. It was worse knowing that he only lived a few blocks away from you anyway.

A loud 'skrrt' was all it took for you to you whip your pillow against the wall as you hoisted yourself out of bed, storming over to your window. Unlatching the locks, you push the glass up and fumble with the screen, shoving it open. As convenient as it was to have your bedroom on the bottom floor, you never thought you would be doing this.

A cool breeze made goosebumps cover your arms as equally cool grass caressed your feet as you stomped around the side of your house and onto the street. You saw a few stray motorcycles pass by, and now that you were outside, you could hear the cheers and whistles that carried through the air. Quite honestly, you didn't give a fuck anymore. Waltzing into the middle of the street, you stare at another motorcycle speeding right at you, but you couldn't find it in you to move. Crossing your arms over your chest, you glare as the motorcycle took a second to slow down to a small hum as the rider came to a stop in front of you. You stared into the black helmet covering the guy's face as multiple motorcycles revved up behind you, trapping you in a circle.

Raising an eyebrow in question, you watch the rider finally take off his helmet, shaking out his messy black hair before running a gloved hand through it, spiking it back to its typical style. Golden irises stared at you lazily, a matching smirk on his face to go with it. His ear piercings and lip ring glinted from the headlights shining on him and you wanted to vomit.

"Kuroo," you seethed, ignoring the few whistles around you.

"Oh, heyyy princess...what are you doing out this late?" Kuroo hummed calmly, irritating you even further.

"Oh, you know, going for a stroll. I thought it was a perfect night to roam the streets completely unbothered." Shifting your stance, you pretend to answer his question thoughtfully with sarcasm oozing from your lips.

Kuroo gave a small 'tsk' and eyed you up and down slowly, a strange look on his face. "That's...weird."

A few snorts could be heard around the circle above the hum of the engines and you just wanted to scream. Before you could tell him off, the guy on the motorcycle next to him pulled off his helmet and you came face-to-face with Bokuto Kotaro. Of fucking course. Now, this makes sense.

Bokuto, at the time, was the most well-known gang leader around and was older than you and Kuroo. You believe he was in college, but you had no idea if he even attended the school anyway. It was just another question added to your list of curiosity as to why Kuroo would spend his last year in high school hanging out with the biggest gang in town. Not to mention you were just casually outside your house talking to them. Yep. No big deal.

You glanced back and forth to the matching golden irises that bore into you nonchalantly. Bokuto broke the staring contest when he quirked his eyebrow in amusement, turning to Kuroo. As he turned, you saw a glimpse of black ink that covered his neck and disappeared under his leather jacket.

"Well, well, you didn't tell me you had a missus."

"He doesn't." Before Kuroo could open his mouth, you answer for him while staring daggers into his shocked eyes. Bokuto turns back to you, his grin even wider as more whistles echo around you.

"Can you and your gang of groupies get off my street? Some of us actually have a life to wake up to tomorrow." You cross your arms over your chest, not having one ounce of fear in your body as howls of laughter rang out. All you could see was the disbelief on Kuroo's face as he remained speechless and unmoving. Bokuto was next to him, hunched over the motorcycle handlebars trying to catch his breath.

"Shit!" Taking a deep breath of air, Bokuto leans up, a few stray chuckles leaving him as he finally eyes you up and down almost approvingly. The urge to roll your eyes was strong, but you could do nothing other than yawn, sleep calling your name.

"I think that's enough for tonight, hm?" Bokuto taps his knuckles of the top of Kuroo's head softly, gazing at him almost fondly. Interesting.

A flicker of anger flashed across Kuroo's face and just as he opened his mouth, Bokuto interrupted him again. "I wanted to go back and eat pizza with you guys anyway. Remember how I said I didn't want to stick to tradition? How boringgg."

Kuroo closed his mouth and looked away almost as if he was pouting. A genuine smile crossed Bokuto's face as he turned back to you in your half-sleep state. "Sorry, 'princess,' we'll let you get your beauty sleep now." Running a hand through his striped hair, he tosses you a wink and puts his helmet back on, revving his bike on purpose, turning towards Kuroo.

Kuroo shoots you one last curious gaze before putting his back on as well. You shoot them one last wary look, unsure if they were actually going to stop, before stepping out of the motorcycle ring. Walking back across your lawn, basically sleepwalking at this point, you faintly realize that the group of boys never drove off until you were out of sight.

~*~*~*~*

Little did you know that during the motorcycle incident, it was a way of saying goodbye to their beloved gang leader. Bokuto was stepping down from the position and handing it off to Kuroo as he was moving away for his college major which surprised you greatly. You were happy for him, but that was the beginning of Kuroo's legacy.

The days after the incident Kuroo became quiet at school which scared the teachers and staff--even the students started to feel uneasy. He would shoot you lingering glances in the hallways and you would always wave or throw him a random peace sign if you felt like it. Because...what the fuck? Graduation came fast and you remember sitting in your seat and clapping for Kuroo's name being called, only to find out he never showed up. That was the last time you ever thought you would hear of him again, but you were far from right.

Now in college, you hear of stories all the time of rising gang violence and a recent rival one that had just started growing. The streets weren't nearly as active as they are now when Bokuto was leader, but you didn't have time to ponder over it. Everyone in your city was warned to get home before it got dark out and to lock windows and doors for safety. It sounded like a real run-down place to be living in but the news made it sound worse than what it really was.

The next time you saw Kuroo again was on one of those nights where you should've been home already, but didn't take the news seriously. You had gone out to walk to the nearest grocery store, wanting to buy a late dinner, and as you were walking home, two guys approached you with sickening grins on their faces, trying to back you into a corner. Your heart was pounding in your ears as cold sweat started to form on your skin. Before they could get any closer, footsteps were echoing on the pavement as you and the two guys turned to the shadow approaching. Your heart lept in your throat and you frantically darted your eyes around looking for a way to escape before a deep yet familiar voice spoke out.

"There you are, princess."

The two men in front of you froze in place, their guarded expressions transforming into one of horror as they looked at each other and took off running in the opposite direction. You let out a breath of air and turned towards the man walking out from the shadows.

His hair didn't change much, but there were newly added piercings in his ear and two on one eyebrow. His eyes looked darker than you remember, the gold no longer warm and heated, but dull and cold. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he strode towards you, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, lazy and unbothered. When he finally came to a stop in front of you, you could see black ink covering the sides and back of his neck which reminded you of the glimpse you got from Bokuto that one time.

"Kuroo." You breathe his name in a sigh of relief. You were highly aware that he was equally s dangerous, but the fact that he was familiar sent a wave of reassurance that you were safe.

He looks at you up and down and shakes his head. "Still taking these 'strolls' unbothered? You haven't changed much."

"Huh?" Confused, you watch Kuroo shake his head again and motion his head to the side.

"C'mon. I'll walk you home."

You fall into step beside him, silent. What are you supposed to say to someone you haven't seen in years and is also running the biggest gang in the city? "Cold out, huh?" Nice one, (Y/n).

Feeling your face heat up with the lame question, you look over at Kuroo anyway and see his lip quirked up but he doesn't respond. Ooookayyy...

"What are you doing out this late?" You try again, adjusting the bag you were holding.

"Business."

You felt your irritation spike by the lack of communication you were receiving. Sure, you and Kuroo were never close, but you two still knew each other. "Asshole," you mumble, crossing your arms from the cool wind.

This time Kuroo snorted and reached up to take the cigarette out of his mouth. "Is that any way to thank the gentleman who just saved your cute ass?"

A few words in that sentence almost made you stumble, your mind trying to catch up to your ears. Gentleman? Cute? Pursing your lips you walk a little faster towards your house. "Oh please, don't flatter yourself."

Kuroo easily matched your stride and let out a chuckle, the sound making goosebumps appear on your arms. His voice was more mature and silky and as you spared him another glance out of the corner of your eye, you couldn't deny how attractive he was. "There's that feisty girl I remember."

"I'm surprised you remember me regardless." You state truthfully, slowing your strides back to normal.

"How could I forget sleeping beauty coming out on the middle of the road in the dead of night to tell a gang to get off her street~?" The cooing tone coming from Kuroo's voice had you flushing as you turned to look at him, seeing his eyes glinting slightly with that golden warmth that was missing before. Now that he mentioned it, since you confronted them that one time, nothing ever occurred on your street again.

"Damn right." Despite the beating of your heart, you answer him and flush more, hoping the streetlamps didn't give you away. The laugh that escaped Kuroo had you biting your lip, as he stretched his hands up in the sky.

"Shit...Bokuto was right."

That's what Kuroo had mumbled, but you didn't hear him as he immediately changed into a different topic, asking you about college and what you've been up to lately. The conversation seemed to end too quickly because the next thing you knew, you were outside your house exchanging contact info with the resident gang leader longing to talk some more.

~*~*~*~*

After that, Kuroo and you became close, which came as a shock. Obviously, you didn't meet up in person often, as he had a reputation and couldn't risk showing his face in broad daylight, but also because he was always busy. It was strange seeing just how far your relationship had developed. There were flirty remarks often passed around, mostly from Kuroo himself, but you would be stupid not to admit that you had developed some sort of feelings toward him.

It was another late night and you were just getting ready for bed when there was a knock at your window that made instant chills cover your entire body. Another knock came, followed by a thud. "What the fuck is that?!" Mostly talking to yourself, you hurry and shut off all the lights so you could open the blinds and see outside without a glare. Squinting into the dark, you see a figure slumped against your window on the ground. Your heart was beating widely in your chest, but upon hearing the blinds being pulled up, the figure looked up and you could barely make out that it was Kuroo.

"Son of a-" You whisper-yell to yourself, hurrying to unlatch the window, opening it to push the screen out. "Why do you enjoy scaring the shit out of me?!" Keeping your voice down, you scold Kuroo as he literally crawls through your window and onto your floor, grunting.

His movements clicked into your head fast as you hurry and got down next to him, trying to pull his jacket off. Pained groans fell from his lips as you tried to hush him, as to not disturb anyone in the house.

Your hand finally felt something warm and sticky and you gasped. "Kuroo!" A breathless gasp came from the body on your floor as he tried to sit up. Rushing back over to the lights, you flick them on and gasp.

"Hah...sorry to come by unannounced, but I don't think I could've made it back to base-" Just then Kuroo fell into a coughing fit, clutching his side as you noticed the stab wound the ripped through his shirt. Shushing him gently, you help Kuroo stand and sit him on your bed, propping him up against the wall.

"Don't move." Panicked, you quietly exit your room and make sure you didn't hear anyone still up. Grabbing a few towels and medical supplies, you quickly drop them off in your room before making your way to the kitchen and filling a bowl with warm water. It amazed you just how nimble you were grabbing everything you thought you needed without any noise.

Making your way back to your room, you lock your door and look to Kuroo, who was clenching his teeth while glaring at the ceiling in pain.

"How?" Placing the bowl off to the side, you set up your supplies and motion towards his shirt. "Off."

Kuroo tried for a smirk, but all you saw was a wince. "Princess, I just got here~"

"Now. Isn't. The. Time." Seething, Kuroo didn't comment as you helped him with the shirt, the fabric sticking to his skin from the blood and sweat covering him. You laid out a towel next to him to catch anything before it ruined your bedsheets. The gash was pretty big, but you couldn't tell how deep it was from the amount of blood covering it. Sighing, you dip another towel into the bowl of water and began dabbing away the blood, trying to avoid the deepest part. Kuroo grunts and you shoot him an apologetic look.

"Sorry...it's going to hurt worse when I put the antiseptic on later. So, what happened, boss man?" The pet name had Kuroo smiling through the pain as you cleaned the wound as gently as you could.

"I was a few blocks south, finishing up some business with Akaashi-fuck-when the Miya twins stepped out from the shadows and jumped me. It was a setup and to think that Akaashi knew--at this rate, we might have to join together with Oikawa's small gang so we can figure out what's happening." Kuroo took a deep breath and you can see the conflict and anger on his face, his hand clutching your bedsheets angrily. Silently, you hand him one of your pillows before he continued.

"And me! A fuckin dumbass for not having a backup. I told the guys it was an easy deal and to not worry but I," Kuroo's voice cracks, "-I never would've thought that Akaashi....fuck."

Your heart shattered hearing the raw emotion coming from him. Kuroo was never one to be vulnerable so hearing him break down like this in front of you, you knew it was serious. "Akaashi and Bokuto were close, right?" You ask softly, finally finishing the cleaning.

"Yeah," he replied softly, "They knew each other's boundaries and respected them, but this...this is low." Kuroo squeezed your pillow to his face and you rubbed his arm soothingly. If there was one thing you learned about gangs from befriending Kuroo is that you never-NEVER-break trust, loyalty, or a promise. It was detrimental if one, or all three, were broken. Kuroo always stays true to his word when it comes to you and you always returned the favor. Knowing that there was a history behind this shocking betrayal made it clear that something bigger was approaching.

He was shaking and you knew it was because of the anger, hurt, and pain he was feeling all at once. Thinking quietly, you reach for the antiseptic and antibiotic ointment. "Okay, this is going to sting a lot so...hide your face in the pillow if it gets to be too much."

Kuroo chuckled weakly but clutched the pillow tighter. "Princess, I was just stabbed and escaped a gang who tried to off me."

"Yeah, but you were high on adrenaline so you didn't feel it as much." You retort, shooting him another warning before folding up another towel a few times, holding it under the cut as you poured the antiseptic over the wound. A loud hiss came from the wound as Kuroo more or less screamed into the pillow. It was painful to hear and watch, knowing he was already in emotional pain and this was only making it worse. Leaning down, you blow on the wound, trying to ease the pain as Kuroo tensed and squirmed on your bed, trying to stay still.

Placing the towel down with one hand, you begin fanning it, doing everything you could to help ease his suffering. "Okay, okay that's done." You hurry and wipe any access drops and fan it some more as you reach for the next thing. "Now I'm just going to rub the antibiotic ointment on which doesn't hurt. The stinging will go away, I promise."

Kuroo doesn't say anything but slows his breathing and pulls his face away from the pillow with agony and exhaustion written all over his face. You rub the edges of the wound with the ointment and reach for the gauze tape and pads. Smothering some ointment on the pad, you place it over the wound, sighing in relief. "Can you hold that there for a second, please?"

Kuroo obeys as you unroll the gauze tape, having him let go as you wrap it around his torso a few times, making sure it's secure. When you were satisfied, you pulled away with a deep breath and looked up to Kuroo who was staring at you with an unreadable expression. "Is it too tight?" You ask, looking back down to make sure the end wouldn't come undone by itself.

Kuroo shakes his head and grins. "I always thought about having my own nurse, but I never expected to actually be in pain while being 'treated.'"

Rolling your eyes, you take the last clean smaller towel you saved and dipped it now into the luke-warm water, and wiped off Kuroo's face. The evidence of a fight was obvious as Kuroo closed his eyes and let you clean him off. "You should see the other guys," Kuroo mumbled again making you snort.

"I bet," you softly reply, pulling away to see just how heavy his eyes were. "Here, move down slowly and lay on your back. Try not to move on your side tonight."

Moving off the edge of your bed, Kuroo slowly slides down your bed and hums softly. "Oh? We're having a sleepover, princess?" You laugh and start picking up your supplies, opting to throw in a load of laundry now since there's no way you could get away with bloody towels at any other time. "Comfy..." Kuroo mumbles again before slow breathing filled your room as he fell asleep.

Rolling your eyes, you look towards his feet and begin taking off his boots, placing them outside your window as you fixed the screen and closed it shut. By the time you finished cleaning, it was almost five in the morning as you laid next to Kuroo, who was still asleep on his back. He didn't move at all and you finally had time to look at him. It was embarrassing to think about having a shirtless guy in your bed next to you while looking like...that.

He was attractive. Toned muscles were all you could see as more peaks of black ink caressed his sides from the tattoo on his back. Your eyes ran again over his chest and noticed both nipples pierced and stifled a gasp before turning away from him. Reaching for your blankets, you cover yourself and Kuroo, trying to avoid looking at his chest, as you fell into a deep sleep.

~*~*~*~*

The feeling of being watched woke you from your slumber as you came face to face with Kuroo's sly gaze. Just barely opening your eyes, you go to stretch and realize Kuroo's arm was wrapped around you. Memories from last night came flooding back, making you sit up quickly, the room spinning as you tried to focus on him. "Your side!"

"It's my other side." Kuroo mused, pulling you back down on the bed.

"What time is it?" You ask, still dizzy from abruptly sitting up.

"Dunno."

Annoyed and still tired, you look up to those golden irises who were staring at you with a fondness that made your heart flutter. You blink slowly and glance at the window seeing bright golden hues coloring the sky. The sun must've just risen so it's probably only been a few hours since you fell asleep.

"How long have you been up?"

"Dunno."

"Are you in pain? Do you want me to go get you some medicine? Rewrap your gauze?"

"(Y/n)."

"Are you okay? Did you sleep okay at least?"

"(Y/n)."

"Oh my God, did I snore and wake you up or something?"

"(Y/n)!"

Kuroo's laughter cuts you off from thinking a mile a minute and butterflies erupted in your stomach seeing the happy expression on his face. Compared to last night, you never want him to experience that kind of betrayal and hurt again. He looked almost angelic being basked in the beautiful golden rays, his eyes glowing brighter than you've ever seen.

"God, I love you."

The words left his mouth in a sincere whisper, his gaze like honey as he stared straight into your soul, the confession making blood rush to your ears. It was as if your breath had been stolen, hyper-aware of Kuroo's hand beginning to trace random patterns on your back.

"I-" It was surreal having these pent-up emotions you've suppressed come tumbling out of your mouth in an instant. "I love you too."

The biggest smile that graced Kuroo's face was another phenomenon that stole your breath away, his lips leaning down to brush against yours. They were teasing brushes, Kuroo seeming almost cautious with himself which made your cheeks flame.

"Why are you embarrassed? I should be the one-" Kuroo chuckles, pulling back, his own face lightly dusted in pink. "Cute." He cuts himself off once he saw your expression, completely enamored by it.

Heat radiated off your face as Kuroo pressed you closer against his bare chest, the hand on your back trailing over your side and up to tilt your chin towards him. He thumbed the skin under your bottom lip, his eyes focused on the soft flesh, a low hum leaving his throat.

Dazed, the feeling of his thumb pulling your lip down had you squirming slightly. He leans down again, this time pecking your lips softly with his thumb still holding your chin in place. The press of his lips against yours had a low fire start building in your stomach, a soft sigh leaving you.

"How can I repay my princess for takin' such good care of me?" Kuroo murmured, against your ear, his hand moving back towards your hips, finding exposed skin from your pajamas. 'My princess' rang in your head repeatedly, your heart skipping a beat.

"You're hurt." You pant out, feeling Kuroo's lips trail down to your neck, a moan leaving your throat. The noise you let out only made Kuroo shudder, his hand sliding to the back of your thigh, lifting it onto his waist.

"Mmm...I can still make you feel good now." Kuroo's fingers trace your ass, inching towards the inner part of your legs, brushing against your clothed lips. "And I promise to make you feel even better when I recover."

The 'I promise,' had you shuddering knowing he wouldn't go back on his word. You felt amazing right now, with the teasing touches he was giving you over your clothed slit. The position he put you in made you more spread open and exposed to his touch. "K-Kuroo..."

Just then, his finger brushed a soft circle over your clit and you mewled into his chest.

"So sensitive..." Kuroo purred, his finger repeating the motion before running back to your thigh, squeezing it gently. Noticing he stopped, you tilt your head up and try to glare at him, only to see his amused yet lustful expression. "What's wrong, princess?"

"Why'd you stop?" You ask, pussy fluttering with arousal.

Kuroo hums and adjusts himself so he was leaning over you on his elbow. "Look at me. If you want my fingers that bad, you need to look at me as I finger that pretty little pussy of yours. Look away, and I'll stop."

The silky dominating voice coming from him made you gulp and you nod, face permanently red from the situation. Kuroo smirked and you felt his fingers start inching back over your slit, his golden irises holding your gaze. "That's it...good girl."

The praise sent another rush of arousal through you, a whimper falling from your lips causing Kuroo's smirk to widen. "Yeah? You like being told you're a good girl? My princess has always been such a good girl~"

"Please, Kuroo." You beg, his finger teasing the sides of your underwear, his own groan falling from his lips. Feeling his finger slip under, you roll your hips on him, trying to keep your eyes open as his finger brushed against your clit. "F-fuck," you reach a hand up to grip his toned bicep moaning softly. Kuroo trails his finger up and down your slit, dipping down to collect your slick, letting out a small curse as well.

"Shit, you're so fucking wet for me princess...you want it?" Kuroo holds your gaze, daring you to look away again as you bite your lip, trembling.

"Please...boss."

Kuroo's eyes widened in shock before cursing again, his finger pushing into you. "Fuck...fuck...call me that again, (Y/n)."

You feel his finger curl upwards, stroking your textured walls drawing broken moans from your throat, your hips rocking with his thrust. "Boss...feels so good." You pant out again, drunkenly staring into Kuroo's pink-tinted face, his pupils blown wide with lust. A second finger slides in with the first and you cry out, gripping his bicep harder. Letting out a growl, Kuroo leans down and pressed his lips against your ear talking you through your euphoria.

"So tight and hot around me, princess. Next time, I'm going to make sure you scream my name as I bury myself deep in this lewd pussy. Want that? It's too bad you have to keep quiet now...you wouldn't want your family to know you have a boy in your room...much less me."

Biting your lip, you try to limit the cries of pleasure spilling from your mouth, Kuroo's fingers hitting a sweet spot in you that that you choking out air. His fingers sped up, curling and stroking that one spot that had you withering in place. "Ohhh~ how's it feel? Gonna cum soon?"

He suddenly withdraws his fingers and brings them up to his lips, sucking on them and moaning hotly before reaching back down, entering you. "Tastes good..." Kuroo breathes out, grinning at your shocked expression. It was hot, watching him lick his lips as he leans down to bite your neck.

Your thigh starts to shake from your incoming orgasm, Kuroo keeping a steady pace, his heavy breathing matching your own. "Cum for me, (Y/n)." As soon as those words left his mouth, your back arched, a loud moan ripping from your throat before Kuroo covered your lips with his, swallowing your noises. He worked you through your release, his tongue mingling with yours as he growled softly. When you finally calmed down, he removed his fingers and you watched as he brought them up to his mouth, sliding them in and sucking off your juices.

You could only watch through blurry eyes as Kuroo hummed around his fingers, pulling them away with a pop. "Fuck princess you taste so good. I'm really going to have to ravage you next time." His husky voice made you realize how hard he must be from what just happened and you pulled back to look down at him.

"You-" About to ask if he wanted you to return the favor, a loud ringing came from his jacket that was thrown over your chair. Turning to look at him he nods and you get out of bed, on wobbly legs which had Kuroo smirking again, as you tried to find his phone. Reading the caller ID, you walk back over to the bed and sit, handing him the phone. "It's Tanaka."

Kuroo lowers himself onto his back and brings the phone up to his ear sighing. "Yo."

You couldn't make out what Tanaka was saying, a lot of shouting going, on but Kuroo's expression remained neutral. "I got caught up last night." He answered and paused again, listening to Tanaka shout some more. You took this time to examine his gauze, hoping your activities from earlier didn't ruin anything.

Everything seemed to be okay and you glanced back up at Kuroo who was smiling at you softly. "Yeah, I'll be there in a few." Without waiting for a response, Kuroo hung up and tossed his phone down sighing. "I have to go."

He starts to get up and you help him, feeling bad for not being able to return the favor. "But-"

"Next time." Kuroo turns towards you and cups your face, kissing you while sighing contently. "Thank you for everything, (Y/n). You're the realest one I have and I'm not letting you go. Ever." Kissing your head one last time, he grabs his jacket and walks towards your window, opening it up.

"I love you, be safe." You murmur, running your finger over his gauze again.

Kuroo smirks.

"I promise."

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quillsareswords · 4 years

Note

Could you do something with Damian and a really cuddly, clingy, touchy-feely reader? I feel like his brothers would be v confused about the whole situation bc Damian's just chillin and always seems neutral to what's happening while reader is just like, koala bear hugging him and stuff all the time.

Firstly. I love this concept with every fiber of my being because, oh good god, it's me. Thank you so much for bringing this to inbox, because I've been lacking on inspiration lately, and this is just what I need right now. Thanks doll!!

Prompt List // Masterlist (in bio)

Tim stops dead in his tracks, cereal bowl nearly slipping from his hand as he halts in the doorway to the huge living room. He pauses, before cautiously asking, "What is this? What am I looking at?"

Damian's arm twitches against your back, the only give away that he's been caught off guard. You seem just as relaxed, sprawled on top of him like you've been there your whole life.

You don't even look at him, eyes still glued to the phone screen shining up at you from the floor, which you're facing with your face pressed against Damian's shoulder. "You've known me for five years and you still haven't learned my name? Rude."

He blinks. "Sure, sure. Right. Because it's absolutely normal for anyone to successfully get within a foot of Damian and not get knocked out."

You snort, but it still isn't enough to pry your attention away from your phone. Damian either, as he reads a book over your shoulder, which is settled under his chin. He must be tired or in a terrifyingly good mood, if he hasn't shoved you off in hopes of hiding emotions from his family. That's what he usually does when he gets caught with you, anyway.

He's been tiptoeing around the subject of you for a solid year and half now. It wasn't exactly easy, seeing as you're also a family friend, what with being a vigilante and all. You're Damian's partner, have been for three years, and you're in the manor often enough that you have your own room, right next to Damian's.

Still, even with no clear answers from either of you, the whole family has suspected a relationship for a long time.

But Damian isn't very touch oriented. In fact, he's been known to go to nearly astonishing lengths to avoid being touched at all.

And now here he is, you laying on top of him, out in the open, absolutely unbothered by Tim catching it.

Tim decides quickly not to risk Damian's mood spoiling while he's around, so he backpedals and heads for his room.

• • •

Jason doesn't come to the manor often, but when he does, there's usually a decently concerning reason for it. This time, he's waiting out a possible kidnapping by one king pin or another. You haven't been paying as much attention as you probably should.

Now, he's trotting down the steps from Bruce's office to fix a suspicious rattling noise his motorcycle has been making for a shameful period of time.

However, he stops beside the super computer, looking a little aghast and far too dramatic for the sight.

Damian side-eyes him, still typing away, but his head doesn't move. It really can't, because you're resting your head on top of it.

You're resting your full weight on the back of the chair, which Jason now realizes isn't the tall backed chair that usual sits there, with your cheek buried in the soft looking bush that is Damian's hair. Your eyes are closed, and your arms and draped over his shoulders, hands laying on his chest.

Jason catches himself staring when Damian's side-eyeing turns into a curious glare. Tentatively, Jason points to you, and raises an eyebrow.

Lowly, Damian somewhat patiently answers, "She's half asleep."

Your eyebrows slant together. "Hmm?"

Jason's expression becomes more confused. "She sleeps standing up?"

"Apparently," Damian mumbles.

Jason, more than a little perturbed but Damian's oddly placid demeanor and your absurd sleeping habits, shuffles the rest if the way to his bike, grabbing the toolbox on his way.

• • •

Dick sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket—correction, three blankets, facing the rest of the living room, where Damian sits on one couch, and Duke occupies the other.

"No no, I'm not saying Bella wasn't smokin, I'm just saying that those facial expressions and life decisions were questionable enough to make a guy think twice," Dick tries to reason.

Duke makes a face. "Bro, are you kidding? If a chick stares at you from across a lunch room and you've never spoke to her, you don't even try."

Damian scoffs. Duke raises an eyebrow, and just when he's about to beg for the story of who tied him to a steel chair and forced him to watch Twilight, you shoulder the double door open.

Damian doesn't look up from his newest book, which could be deemed rude if you weren't so close and comfortable with one another. "Evening, Beloved, how was your drive?"

You say nothing. You drop your bag by his feet, crawl the rest of the way onto the couch, and collapse. Your head in on a pillow between Damian's thighs and the arm of the couch, the rest of you divided unevenly between his lap and the rest of the couch.

He glances away from the pages briefly. "Traffic?" His hand slips under your shirt to gently run blunt nails up and down your spine.

For a moment, you're quiet, and neither of the two older men know how to react.

Then, without warning, you wail into the pillow. "Who the everloving fuck drives a Winnebago through central Gotham at six o'clock going fourteen miles an hour?"

Duke barks a loud laugh, before he claps a hand over his mouth in fear of a punishment. But a man can only do so much, so he sits with his hand over his mouth, giggling like a fifteen year old listening to a dirty joke with his parents in the room.

Damian chuckles lightly, white teeth peeking through a little smile that he's trying to suppress, much for the same reason Duke is doing his best not to let you hear him laugh.

Dick is more focused on the two of you, and the fact that his baby brother has grown up and changed for the better so much—

• • •

Cassandra climbs the stairs with some difficulty, thanks to two new sets of stitches and a few too many fresh bruises.

It's nothing a few days of relaxation won't fix. It was worth it, to see Poison Ivy put back behind bars—even if it did take four of you.

Shortly after arriving back, you and Damian had disappeared up to his room, after you'd both been checked over by Alfred. Aside from some intense bruising and a fee cuts and scrapes, you'd both been spared.

She knocks on his door a few times. With no answer, she loudly turns the handle and pushes the door open slowly, giving you enough time to correct her if need be. She knows at least one of you are in here, because the light is on. "Alfred sent me to tell you that there's dinner, if you want–"

She stops. You are, in fact, both in the room. However, neither of you are conscious.

Damian is sprawled haphazardly across his bed, face half squished into a pillow.

You're flopped across his back, horizontal across his bed, likely also with a pillow, but she can't see your face to be sure.

For a moment that feels a little intrusive, she stares, eyes wide. Not because he's in only boxers and you're in shorts and a sports bra (neither are necessarily a new sight, with one makeshift locker room in the Cave and a city with way too many privacy-surpassing emergencies), but because she's never witnessed Damian allowing another person to be so close to him while asleep.

Even on week long stakeouts that confine them to one room, he claims one corner for himself and doesn't tolerate that invisible boundary to be broken, especially when he's asleep.

She wouldn't even be so surprised if you were passed out in his reading chair, or even on a pile of blankets in the floor, or hell, even if you were on opposite sides of the bed. But you're literally as close to him as you could possibly be. And he's still sound asleep.

She closes the door and backs away slowly, a little smile on her face, even though she was too tired to laugh at the joke Bruce tried to crack a few minutes ago.

• • •

Bruce sits, almost impatiently, on a stone bench by the fountain the middle of Gotham City Gardens. The whole family had come here for the day, on invitation of the organization's owners. Of course, not everyone was officially recognized as family by anyone outside the Manor, so there were quite a few plus ones—you being one of them.

Of course you were. You're always invited. Over the years, it's become a running joke. A trip to the grocery store? (Y/N) must be invited. Walking from the W.I. building to an ice cream parlor and back? I bet (Y/N) is invited. At one point, Damian became so simultaneously annoyed and amused by it that for a week, you really did join him on every single outing. No one knows how exactly you made it across Gotham in six minutes flat to help him pick up cereal but by golly you managed it.

Bruce is currently waiting on you and Damian, who swore to meet him here for a few pictures (at Alfred's request). The pair of you had gone off on your own after about an hour of meandering around with his family, and no one has heard from either of you since. He would be worried, but you were both too excited about this to get into any trouble that would risk being sent home early.

Your laughter finds him before you do. It comes from around a corner of tall hedges, and shortly after, so do you.

You're smiling ear to ear, giggling like a school girl, elbows balanced on Damian's shoulders, about as precariously as you are on his back. That is to say, quite stable. Damian is grinning as well, his arms linked around you're knees at his sides to keep you as stable as you are. You've got an ice cream cone in each hand, one obviously having had more attention than the other.

Bruce's heart swells in his chest at the absolute joy on his son's face.

Damian stops not too far, shifting your weight to free one hand. You help, carefully resituating yourself to hold yourself up easily. You hand him the neglected ice cream, resting your now free hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry, Father," Damian sounds a little winded, and Bruce wonders if the running he heard earlier had been you two. "Somebody found an ice cream bar and insisted we stop before meeting you." He doesn't sound apologetic in the least.

"Hey!" You laugh, flicking the back of his ear as payback.

As payback for payback, he takes the edge of his cone between his teeth, and uses his free hand to give the back of your knee a quick pinch, before he occupies his hand again to tilt the odds in his favor.

You squeal and jerk. "Damian! You're gonna make me fall, and if I go down, you're coming with me!"

Bruce laughs loudly.

• • •

Alfred is on his way to the library to finish the afternoon chores. All he needs to do is straighten up in there, and he can call it an evening. Just in time, too, as one of the local channels is running a Downton Abbey marathon tonight that he doesn't particularly want to miss.

He pushes open the doors to get a little extra fresh air, but pauses just inside the doorway.

Damian is stretched out in one of the plush leather chairs, his long legs propped up by his ankles on the coffee table, head resting limply on the back of the chair. You're curled up in his lap, head on his shoulder, legs folded up on either side of his thighs, arms wound around his back. His hands are folded together on your back. You're both fast asleep.

The elder man is suddenly flooded with memories of the boy's first few months in this manor. In this room, even. He was politely feral, as Bruce had once put it. He was so uncomfortable all the time, though he fought not to show it. It was so new to him, to be openly cared for the way his family tried to care for him. Most people he met back then treated him as the cold, rude, trained assassin that he presented himself as.

So many overlooked the terrified ten year old boy that shook beneath the armor and the weight of the mantels he was expected to take up in so few years.

Of course Alfred had been paying attention to him all this time, all the growing he's done and the man he's becoming. He's always been proud.

But it's here, in this exact moment, that Alfred really takes in how different he is now, compared to then.

Not only did he find the strength and the trust to forge a close bond with you, one that would arguably outlast just about anything it was forced to endure, but he'd fostered such a sweet affection for you. He's found the space within himself to make room for a great love for you, and his family, and his friends.

And you're so good for him. You remind him of the things he could be, if he wanted, and not of what he should be or could have been. You provide him a sense of normalcy when he needs it, and battle ready companion when he needs that.

You look past the blazing armor of controlled aggression and lessons learned to reach the beautiful soul he is. And most importantly, you love him for all of it. You manage to dig so far beyond what he's been taught and the walls he's put up, that you look at what was meant to be the perfect soldier and you see a pillow to sleep on. You trust him with everything, including your vulnerability, just as he trusts you.

Alfred marks the page of the open book on the floor, closes it, and leaves it in the table for you later. He leaves as quietly as he came, in hopes of leaving the two of you undisturbed.

#damian wayne imagine #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne headcannon #damian wayne blurb

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dreaming-of-assclass · 3 years

Text

AssClass Bedroom Headcanons: Part 2

Part 1 Here

Kataoka

Definitely has the neatest room.

Her room is very light-colored with a lot of white furniture because she loves how classy it looks.

Her floor has to be clear or else she’ll lose her mind.

Has pastel feminine bedspread and decor because she likes the frills and girly vibe.

Has lots of posters of her favorite swimmers and women she looks up to.

Even her books and school supplies on her desk are so organized.

Enjoys stepping onto her soft, warm fluffy rug in the mornings.

Okajima

Has a comfy bed but honestly, this boy lives on the mini couch seating instead.

Like 99% of the time, he’s crouching there doing homework or camera stuff. Or also flipping through magazines.

Has a big window with nice curtains so he can control the lighting for picture-taking purposes.

He has the most boring ass covers lmao, it’s like a thin sheet that he sleeps under. His female friends roast him all the time for it.

Has a couple bookshelves filled with textbooks and photography equipment!

There’s a couple of plants but they were gifts from Sugaya.

Overall the vibes are nice and cozy. Slightly hermit vibes but it’s all good.

Kayano

I’m sorry but this room is so gorgeous to me, I just had to give it to her.

So like she lives in an apartment as a 3-E student and she definitely would be able to afford a rlly nice one, with her money from acting.

The room has really lovely boho vibes, but it’s also rlly modern at the same time??

Has a very large window with a stunning view that she looks at often, in thought.

Keeps a couple books at her bedside, along with painkillers and manuscripts.

Tbh it’s somewhat neat because she can’t stand messiness. But it gets messy often because she has other things to focus on and she’s sad.

There’s a bunch of pudding wrappers all around on the floor.

Hayami

Her room is a little basic by these standards tbh, but it’s super comfortable.

It’s fairly spacious since she practices dancing in there sometimes.

Has a lot of windows because she likes natural sunlight. And at night, she keeps them open slightly to enjoy the sounds of the night, like crickets, cars passing by, etc

Owns so many adorable cat plushies that she keeps in her bed.

I’d say her room is pretty neat, but during her time in 3-E, I can see Hayami throwing things around more often. Like she has other things to think about.

Her furniture is all so aesthetic looking and pretty. Like the vibes are very pretty in the room overall.

Sugino

I’m so sorry y’all, but I feel like his bedroom would be plain af 😭

Like it’s Sugino lmao. I can’t see him really thinking about “aesthetic” or “decor” lol. BUT don’t fret, it’s still very charming in its own way!

It would be pretty small since in canon, his family lives in a certain type of public housing/apartments.

His bed frame would be the kind that’s very low to the ground. Which is nice so he can just flop onto there when he’s dead tired.

Has very thick black-out curtains to block any sunlight since the boy wants all the rest he can get.

Has a single desk for his PC and as a place to do schoolwork. Also where he can play some video games lol.

Would have a couple stuffed animals on his bed UwU.

Yoshida

I’m getting very suave vibes for his bedroom tbh. Like out of all the guys, he’s the best at decorating.

Given that his family isn’t very big, I wanna say he’d have a decently-spaced room.

There’s super cool lighting in the room with the lights he hung up, and his lamp. Like the ambience is just 👌

Has pictures of his family and friends framed and sitting on his dresser. It’s so sweet.

Also has a stuffed teddy bear that he got when he was kids and playing with Hara.

Tbh he’s barely in his room. He’s usually either with the class, squad, or working on his motorcycles.

Has many books on physics, mechanics engineering, etc in a single bookshelf in his room.

Kimura

Idk, my first thought was that he’d have a small-ish room that’s packed with lots of stuff.

I feel like Kimura is the type of gremlin who would lowkey hoard things lmao. Like it would sit in his drawer for 4 years before he decides what to do.

But yeah. I can see him with small shelves filled with various different things. One of them has some indoor workout equipment.

He has a desk that’s constantly cluttered, no matter how often he clears it. It also has his computer.

The only reason his room is ever clean is because his mother has cleaned it. As soon as the 3-E girls find this out, they absolutely give him a lesson on tidiness.

Has some stuffed animals that he bought to try impress Kurahashi but he ended up loving them for real lmao.

Ritsu

Ok so of course, Ritsu has probably made her own lil world and home digitally. But that means she’d also decorate/create her own bedroom!

I’m a big advocate for a Ritsu who always changes aesthetic but I think her bedroom is pretty easy to figure out.

First of all, it would be hella random lmao. Like the absolute weirdest items and decorations are just all around, on the floor, wall, etc lmaoooo.

THE BED HAS TO BE EXTREMELY COMFY WITH A CUTE SPREAD. This will be her main residing area when she binges K-Dramas and other shows she loves.

Also there’s a giant TV in the room lmao.

All of her books, games, and forms of entertainment are probably lying on the floor lolol.

Yeah it’s pretty messy. One of her classmates or teachers has to remind her to clean up.

#assclass #ansatsu kyoushitsu #assassination classsroom #post #headcanons #megu kataoka #taiga okajima #kaede kayano #rinka hayami #taisei yoshida #justice kimura #ritsu

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imnotwolverine · 3 years

Text

The Accidental Family - Chapter 1

Henry Cavill x OFC multi-chapter

Chap 1 - Coming Home | Chap 2 >

Disclaimer: Fluff, some strong language

Word count: 2.364

Author’s note: Are you ready for some confused Henry-fluff, my baby sweets? I really could use something to focus on now we’re in full lockdown during the Christmas days *ugly cries* -- So, dear fellow quarantine babies: I hope you’ll enjoy the story!

Also, special thanks to my babe @darkbooksarwin for helping out with giving shape to this story and pointing me at some of the technicalities of brain injury and memory loss. ❤️

(Link to my Masterlist)

Say. What would you do if you’d one day wake up without a single memory of the last five years? Would you be like super soldier Hardcore Henry, defeating an army of bad guys? Would you return to the world in white robes, to help Hobbits on their journey to destroy one evil piece of jewellery? Or, would you perhaps be bed-ridden while you’re forced to watch yet another re-run of the Price Is Right on one far too small hospital tv?

Well, for Henry it was unfortunately the latter.

And where he had been ever enthusiastic to get back to work and pick up his life, the doctors thought otherwise, their voices all agreeing on one thing; he had to “take it easy”.

Take it easy? Take it easy?! He had just skipped five years of his life! Let’s be real now! One cannot “take it easy”, when one moment you’re the main character of one of Netflix’s hit series, working 14 hour workdays, only to find yourself bedridden the next. Didn’t they need him? Didn’t they need Superman? Geralt? ..Him?

It felt a bit like he had been the first Doctor to step into the Tardis. Confused, but sharp of mind. Or, perhaps the Gandalf comparison was better; he had fought the Balrog of Khazad-dûm - or in his case some ghost riding idiot on the M5 on his motorcycle, only to return to the world as a different person..in a different time, the past five years a bit of white noise in the back of his brain.

The one clear differentiation between him and Gandalf’s return being, that Henry had not lost “the One Ring”, but gained one, his left ring finger now sporting a pretty golden band that matched the one on the restless hands of the woman driving him home right this moment.

Returning his attention to her, he watched her, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel as her stormy blue eyes zipped over the chaotic traffic of the London city streets, her teeth biting in focus on her lower lip.

She was his wife, apparently - a thought that both amused and frightened him. How in the hacking hell could he not remember having a wife?

Henry had always been good with people. Remembering faces, names, little details. But with her? His wife? He couldn’t even remember where or how they'd met. Matter of fact: he couldn’t remember any woman with this kind of sweet, heart shaped face, her eyes the shade of midnight blue and her hair so golden it might have been woven by Rumplestiltskin herself.

This whole thing was rather absurd.

Had someone told him he would one day wake up in a hospital bed sporting grey streaks in his hair and a scar the size of a small coin on his skull, the memories of his past 5 years erased, he’d have laughed hard.

But, hello there new Henry, here you are.

Scratching at the edges of the itchy scar, Henry leaned into his arm, his aquamarine gaze quietly studying the blond woman.

*scratch scratch*

‘He-hey, don’t touch that.’ The blondine admonished, blindly swatting her hand in the direction of his shoulder - and missing - before she quickly reverted her attention back to the traffic, her foot pressing a bit too fiercely on the gas pedal, making the both of them jolt back in their seats.

‘WOA. CALM DOWN WOMAN.’ Henry gripped for the dashboard and gave her an exasperated look, her lips offering him a quick apologetic smile.

‘Sorry. You usually drive.’

There it was again, one of those strange references to a life he couldn’t remember. A life that included stacks of family pictures and a car with kids seats and the smell of baby wipes and fake forest mint - he’d get rid of that stupid air refreshener the moment he could.

‘Come on…’ His wife grumbled at the traffic, her lips turning in a pout of pure focus as she tried to push the nose of the car between two sporty low riders on the right lane. ‘MOVE BITCH.’

Henry’s eyes widened at her words, the both of them laughing before she could apologise again.

‘Good gods woman. And how often DID you drive?’

‘Not too often. You were ever the gentleman.’ Her tongue poked out in sheer focus as she managed to squeeze the van into the new lane, a triumphant sigh escaping her lips before she looked back at him, making them both grin.

‘You okay, babe?’ She asked, halting the car again as they had to wait for a red light.

Babe. The simple word made his heart flutter ever so slightly, though he still wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing. An unease settled in his stomach as he looked ahead, the traffic a long string of red chimy lights that sparkled in the dusk of this cool May night, small pools of rain water mirroring the ache he must have caused this woman, his wife. Even as she now offered him a warm, sweet smile, he could see the tired hollowness that burnished her pretty face with dark eye circles and pale skin.

Henry wondered if SHE was okay, but then again..was he? He sighed and tried to relax as the car awoke again under the nervous press of her foot, his hand staying splayed out on the dash as he prayed to all that was holy that he wouldn’t get into yet another mind erasing traffic accident.

One was more than enough, thank you very much.

The night had wrapped the familiar Mews houses in a blanket of drab darkness and, as Henry waited for his wife to fight with the door lock, he could hear the hum of engines in the distance, this area about as quiet as you could find in the middle of London.

At least that hadn’t changed.

Smiling a little, he returned his attention to all the details he had somehow missed so much. The dents in the blue front door. The lock that wouldn’t budge before you’d twiddle with the key a little. And his trusty four pawed friend at the other side, nails tapping excitedly at the hardwood floors.

Home.

With a strange ache in his heart Henry followed the blonde woman into the house, her hand flicking over the light switch before Henry was attacked by a flurry of furry warmth and doggy licks.

‘KALLL! Kal, Kal, Kal! Hey good boy..’ Henry smiled as the large Akita near jumped up in his arms, excitement making the dog roll over onto his shoes, his proffered belly begging for a good scratch. Henry bent over to do just that, only to find himself grasping for his head as a sharp pain rushed up his scalp, a loud ring in his ears making him flinch.

‘Ah..!’ He exclaimed softly, but it wasn’t soft enough for the woman to miss, her feet quickly stepping back to him as she coddled him with soft finger strokes and gentle words.

‘Heyyyy..hey..calm.’ Henry could hear the slight worry in her voice, and he fought hard to open his eyes to at least look at her, unfamiliar love and care sparking between the both of them. ‘It’s okay.’ She breathed. ‘You’re okay. Let’s just..eh..get you up to bed, yea?’ She quickly stepped back and licked her lip, unsure of how to proceed with her stranger-of-a-husband.

Henry felt another painful jolt ring up through his skull, and so he could only nod in defeat, eyes clenching closed as he let the woman lead him up to the master bedroom.

Before long he was safely wrapped in the familiar smell of his own sheets, the bedroom a safe haven that had changed little except for the signs of a person that had slept on the other pillow, her smell still lingering.

That same smell now stepped into the doorway in the shapely appearance of dark jeans with hastily washed off toothpaste stains and a comfy cable knit sweater, long blond tresses cascading over her shoulders. She had taken the moment to get rid of their jackets and calm down Kal.

‘You comfortable? I’m just going to message the day nurse to give her an update on...’ The woman hesitated, and then simply shrugged.

‘Yea, thank you,..eh..’ Henry felt a lump form in his throat as he realised he couldn’t remember her name, his face turning a blank at the rise of her mischievous eyebrows.

Shit.

‘Say now Mr. Cavill, have you forgotten my ..name?’ Her tired lips curled up in a smile.

‘I …’

It’s like she was making him sweat on purpose, her smile growing ever so slightly.

‘Bee?’ He tried.

She chuckled, a silent relief unclenching the tightness in her shoulders. ‘Well there’s one thing you remember. Or did you pick that up when I was on the phone?’

‘It was the phone.’

She sighed, knowing it had been too good to be true, her head shaking. ‘Shucks. Anyways. It’s Phoebe, or Feebs. Though Bee is the general “go to”.’ She marched out to the larger dresser, her fingers quietly clicking open one of the doors to retrieve some fresh linens. ‘And I used to call you Bear, in case you wonder. But eh, I guess that’s for another time.’ She heaved the pile of white cotton in her arm and gave him a puzzled look. ‘Or, maybe never.’ She quickly turned on her heel, her lips barely managing to hide the sadness that licked at her words.

Henry smiled gently. ‘Thank you Phoebe-Bee.’

Her shoulders tensed up again. ‘I’ll..eh..be in one of the other -’

‘Wait, you’re not sleeping..?’ His voice trailed off as he looked at the slightly tousled sheets and pillow next to him - he knew she used to sleep there.

‘No, no. I’ll be right next -’

‘You can sleep here if you want.’

He had hoped the words would bring her comfort, but all he released was sorrow, a single tear sliding down her cheek as she looked over her shoulder at him.

‘I-I...oh, fuck, this is so silly.’ She quickly wiped the tear away, her body turning back again so she could hide the anguish that wrecked behind her light hearted facade. ‘I’m sorry, let’s just..’

‘Phoebe,’ Henry pleaded, earning a soft sniffle from her. ‘hey. Come now sweetheart. Come here.’

And like he hoped, these dark chocolate words did bring some sort of comfort, a short chuckle escaping her lips as she slowly shook her head. ‘You used to say that a lot.’

‘Well, you bet I did! And if you keep crying like that, I’ll come over to you instead!’ He pushed the sheets off, revealing his black boxers and two muscular long legs.

For a moment he could see her look down over her shoulder, look down at him, guilty eyes not daring to really look to much before Henry’s gentle arm wrapped around her back as he escorted her to the edge of the mattress, her body eagerly leaning into him as they both sat down, more tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘Now, settle down, sugar.’ He hushed, brushing away some of the golden hair that curtained her stormy eyes.

Again he could feel a slight tingle in his loins, and, for all it was worth, Henry hoped that it could be a sign that he would remember her soon. Even if it was just a little. With a tender caress he brushed his palm over her back, his eyes studying her silhouette in the lowlights of the bedroom. She looked exhausted, her hands desperately clutching onto the messy white pile of sheets in her arms.

They sat like that for a moment. In a confusingly friendly manner, her breathing slowly calming and tears drying on her cheeks.

‘Hey. If you promise not to bite, neither will I, okay?’

His words were met with a confused rise of her left eyebrow. ‘What?’

‘Biting bed bugs I can survive, but biting wives? I’m..eh..hahah, not so sure.’

Finally, that sweet smile of hers returned. ‘Oh Bear.’

‘Hi Bee,’ He returned her sweet smile and moved up his hand to brush a thumb over her cheek. ‘let’s both get some sleep, okay?’

Slowly, hesitantly, her gaze merged with his, an uncertainty still lingering deep in her midnight blues as she nodded her head yes. ‘Okay.’

And so, minutes later, Henry found himself in his bed with a wife. His wife, her sweet soft snores heard moments after her head had hit the pillow, her blonde hair splayed out over the dove grey satin. Again, he felt his stomach wring, but now it was with guilt, because as he looked at her sleeping form, darkness hiding most of her face, he could still see the pull of her eyebrows, the concerns of life not leaving her even in her sleep.

Henry sighed quietly and turned on his back, his eyes studying the familiar ceiling above his head, dark beams running long lines over a canvas of white. He had a million questions he still needed answers to. And, from the way people had evaded some of his questions, he knew there was still a lot to unpack; he hadn’t even been allowed to use his phone or laptop in the hospital. Then again, now he at least had someone who probably knew it all.

A wife. How about that?

Smiling to himself, he wondered what he would do tomorrow now his every step was no longer monitored by the hawk-like eyes of the hospital staff. He could like..start making phone calls. Or send some e-mails. Or better yet... figure out what was up with the tiny details that referred to..children. Children’s seats. Smells. And.. did he see Lego pieces strewn around in the hallway?

Children, could you imagine? Henry, a dad? Sniffling in amusement, Henry turned his face back to the woman next to him. Where were the children anyways? Had she been a single mom when they met? Was a crazy ex now taking care of her brood? Did she miss them? Miss him? The ..old Henry?

No, don’t think of that.

Sighing again, Henry’s lips opened, the words so gentle he hoped it wouldn’t wake her. ‘Good night Bee.’ He watched as she shifted a little, but didn’t wake. ‘and thank you. This must be as weird for you as it’s for me, but at least we’re ..home, hmm?’ He watched her silhouette a moment longer and then turned away, the familiar streak of light from the streetlight seeping in through the cracked open door.

If only he could remember what had happened.

Chap 2 >

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#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fluff #multichapter #the accidental family #fluff #memory loss

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cactusnymph · 3 years

Text

Prompt fill #8 for @dimension20alphabet:

Home / Healing

Riz didn’t like sleep before he went on a quest to retrieve the crown of the nightmare king. Sleep is a pointless waste of time and if Riz could have some sort of magical solution for this, he would take it immediately.

Now, after the events of their spring break though, Riz actively dreads going to sleep. He hates it.

Hates lying in bed in the dark and thinking about all those things in the forest of the Nightmare King, about dying and coming back to life, about their trip to hell, about Kalina sitting on his chest in the night, threatening him to kill Fabian, about Kristen being torn up from the inside—those pictures follow him into his dreams as well.

He knows that it’s stupid because the Nightmare King is no more and neither is Kalina, but the dreams haunt him still even after their quest is over and he’s back home in Elmville, where he should feel safe.

Except now, when he goes into his office, he hangs a sheet over his mirror and when he looks at the floor and sees the scratch marks there he shudders and swallows.

When he’s lying in his room, from time to time he feels a weight on his chest that’s not really there.

Sleep and silence and solitude have become his enemies and he doesn’t know how to win this battle.

After a week of barely sleeping at all, of a degree of caffeine that alarmed his mother to no end, Riz finds himself in Mordred Manor in the living room. Someone pushed most of the furniture out of the way and the entire floor has been covered in mattresses, pillows and blankets.

All Riz wanted to do was check in with the others to see if they had any plans for the coming weeks, but now he realizes that the inhabitants of Mordred Manor have spent their nights sleeping in this living room together.

And right now, in the middle of this all, lies the familiar figure of one Fabian Seacaster, snoring lightly with a pillow on his head while Adaine sits next to him, reading, and Ragh seemingly plays a game on his crystal.

“Oh, hey, Riz, my man”, Ragh says, his usually loud voice surprisingly quiet and he raises his massive hand to wave at Riz.

“Um—hey guys”, Riz says, unsure what to make of this. “What’s up?”

“Fabian has trouble sleeping at home”, Adaine says and smiles at him, sticks a bookmark between the pages and puts her book to the side. After regarding him for a few seconds she cocks her head. “You look like you haven’t slept at all.”

“Uh—maybe? Sleeping is...”, he gestures vaguely and doesn’t finish the sentence.

“Hard?”, Ragh offers.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, dude, feel free to crash here any time. We sent you some messages but you didn’t answer them, so we figured you were not into the whole slumber party thing”, Ragh says and Riz blinks.

Now that Ragh mentions it, Riz isn’t sure where he left his crystal. And he was too occupied with his own brain and his sleeplessness that he didn’t even realize it was missing.

“I guess it would be okay to try”, Riz says and steps forward until his feet hit the end of one of the mattresses. Adaine gently pats the mattress next to her and Riz climbs into the middle of the nest made of pillows and blankets.

“Isn’t it weird to just—I don’t know. Sleep here? While other people do their thing?”, he asks.

Adaine shrugs.

“We went on a quest to defeat the King of Nightmares. I feel like we can use all the restful sleep we can get. And it helps to not be alone.”

Riz lies down and immediately remembers how part of his journey through the Nightmare King’s forest was to take a nap.

He still feels entirely ridiculous about this.

As someone who helped defeat a damn deity Riz shouldn’t feel as nervous as he does about sleeping.

Just as he arranges some pillows in a way that seems comfortable to him, Fig and Kristen enter the living room.

“Oh hey, Riz!”, Kristen says with a wide smile. “Have you decided to join us in our cuddle pile?”

“I guess”, Riz says and shrugs a little helplessly. He’s still not entirely sure if this is going to work, but even while he considers if he should maybe just stay awake until night comes so it won’t be too weird, he feels his eyes drooping.

At some point, while he dozes off, he hears other people enter the room and he thinks that he can hear Ragh offer his lap as a pillow for Gorgug and Ayda’s voice making sure that it is okay for her to hold onto Adaine’s wrist while she sleeps and a warm presence next to him smells like motorcycle oil and leather and some sort of pretentious aftershave.

And Kristen is there by his side ruffling his hair while saying “Sweet dreams, Riz.” and Riz feels like maybe it would be more normal to have enough of these people after spending so much time with them for so long, after being in close quarters with them for so long.

But all he feels is a sense of safety and warmth, something that hugs him like a blanket and says “This wound will heal and these people will help”.

And Riz sleeps.

#riz gukgak #d20alphabet21 #fanfiction #the bad kids #mi writes #fantasy high #dimension 20

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shiberpostshere · 4 years

Text

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

38. Chapter Thirty Two: No, It’s Ryan Reynolds!✨

Previous Part✨ Next Part ✨

Masterlist of the AU✨

Word Count: 6.7K (Buckle up, its time for a ride)

This Chapter Contains: Giggle worthy chaos and tooth decaying fluff. (An Annoyed San too.)

It’s a regular Sunday. A quiet regular Sunday. An unusually quiet, regular Sunday that you don’t experience often as a college student.

An unusually quiet regular Sunday except for Yeri and Jongho’s loud, harmonious snores that vibrated through the lazy (almost) evening silence of the apartment while you had sneaked out like a thief bound with tinkling shackles out of the front door.

It was exactly five minutes before 5 O’clock and you knew what noise pollution would commence once the short hand stopped perfectly atop the number five.

The neighbour above starts angrily vacuuming to release their pent up frustration of the day or maybe to act as a thoughtful warning alarm to wake the other residents who might be napping above the universal napping time limit and the snarky middle aged lady beside, who begins banging pots and rattling spoons to prepare either her dinner or for a secret time travel battle she has to attend every single night to save the history for the sake of the present.

You have a generous set for neighbours.

Thankfully, you aren’t currently present in your apartment to experience the brutal murder of your ears.

Unfortunately, you’re sandwiched in between San and Wooyoung in the shared wide back seats of the bus, stuffed to the absolute brim with sweaty and jumpy people.

The serenity of the weekend ended when you willingly decided to step onto the Bus No. 7 for the following reasons:

Number One, You and Wooyoung don’t drive and San owns a motorcycle that cannot carry three people at once, not without getting an overloaded vehicle ticket by pulling a stunt like that,

Number two, you have nothing better to do on a Sunday evening other than watch Yeri and Jongho scream about the WIFI and college website because they couldn’t select the classes they wanted fast enough,

Number three, you were unable to escape from Wooyoung’s persistence but you had to get out and inhale some fresh air of the outside.

It is a secret that you had isolated yourself in the sweet ol’ bedroom (in the name of preparing for a workshop), to take a five minutes rest which gradually progressed into knotting up your bones by rolling on the bed 24/7 and temporarily disrupting the serotonin production while watching sad movies, and

Number four, San cashed out a favour from that one time he fetched a folder from your dorm and drove fifteen minutes to deliver it because your degree was on the line. Which is why, this particular evening you need to help him out with whatever he wants to do at this Garden plus Research Centre for Thesis purposes.

“The Thesis and Freebies Date”, term coined by Jung Wooyoung, free entertainment, food finder and a plus one, on Sunday 17th of May, 5:30 AM on the dot.

On top of all these reasons sat Seonghwa’s last text message like a cherry on top of a cupcake of complaints.

He sent you a picture of his americano that was loaded with ten pumps of syrup, “I’m drinking coffee😇”

What coffeeee????!!?!?!?

Everything has failed you today. The public transportation system, your emotional support boy and your unhealthy obsessive complex believing that anything above two pumps of syrup is not coffee because you cannot handle personal preferences.

“Why on earth is this bus full like it’s the last bus available to escape a fucking zombie aopcalypse. What is this ‘Bus to Busan’?” Your voice comes out with pure seething under your breath for only your friends to hear but you catch the old lady beside San narrowing her eyes at you with suspicion.

San, engrossed in scrolling through his twitter and sipping his (proper) americano is least interested about your discomfort.

“Oh I don’t know! I did suggest taking the subway instead but two idiotic people whined for five minutes straight to get on this bus.” His response is monotonous, attempting to contain himself from bursting.

The pinching statement is directed towards you and Wooyoung who grumbled about the group having to walk after getting off the subway when the bus seemed like a better option that stopped right on the street opposite of your destination.

Wooyoung’s frame shifts slightly onto your small seat as the hefty man beside him wiggles for space. “Yeah, Jesus Christ, if only I had had an epiphany about how crowded the bus was going to be before we board it.”

If only you had epiphanies.

The bus was mildly crowded when all of you had entered but became packed within the next ten minutes of collecting passengers at merely three stations.

Poor Wooyoung is scared for his life knowing he will be ironed flat by the man if the bus jumps over a speed breaker or God forbid, decides to halt abruptly. The fear is relatable because the boy standing in front will collapse right onto your already shaky lap under any abrupt movements made by the bus.

After five minutes of distracting himself, San shoves his phone in the pocket of his jeans and leans into your space to jab a finger at two of you simultaneously. “Yeah, Jesus Christ, if only my lazy ass friends knew how to walk but they left their legs in the semester break.” He accuses.

He is absolutely right.

Every student, excluding the few exceptionally productive ones, collectively lost the ability to walk unless the end goal was acquiring food, money, grades and work experience.

Wooyoung throws his hands up out of exasperation, “And you’re hundred percent sure that the subway isn’t packed?”

You nod vigorously, supporting his argument because it doesn’t lead to admitting that you’re wrong and not once you’ll acknowledge the possibility of the missed subway having much more space than this body heat microwave of a bus that you two insisted on boarding until San gave in and agreed.

“Yeah. Also, we’re accompanying you for your work, San.” You chide in to transfer the blame like a ten year old child and nudge the grouchy boy away from the seat with your right arm.

San’s left brow twitches. He is definetly holding back a snarky retort.

“Yes, yes, it’s all my fault.” He drawls on his reponse and turns his head away to ignore your presence entirely.

Apparently, it was not an unusually quiet, regular Sunday for the residents of Unit 8181 also known as the occupants of the apartment of Seonghwa and Friends who have been on the edge due to a mysterious late night incident that was not revealed to you no matter how many times you pried.

Mingi and Yeosang were sprawled together on the couch, hidden beneath a bunch of weighty duvets which did not look like it had two people sleeping underneath it until they started untangling themselves from each other.

Wooyoung was showering, apparently for almost an hour to scrub away his drowsiness as stated by San who has been extremely cranky and constantly keeping himself occupied with his phone and swishing and fixing his posh, sky blue cardigan (until you entered the kitchen and he dragged you out with him, suddenly all smiles).

Yunho was the only one who appeared somewhat himself, still in his pajamas, folding questionably large amount of laundry. He mentioned ‘monopoly game night’ but you didn’t buy that excuse.

They were engaged in constant back and forth, ‘Who Can Shut the Other Guys Up In The Most Creative Way’ contest.

Yeosang won after a house slipper flew out of his room, wheezed past your legs and landed right near the shoe rack as you stood there frozen. The aim was commendable but the action was concerning.

Other than sarcastic remarks, all of them shared swollen eyebags due to the lack of sleep.

A sleepy Mingi glared at you with his droopy eyes for thirty seconds, mumbled out, “Oh, it’s just you.”, trudged towards his room and slammed the door behind him.

The apartment floor was spotless, not one obvious clutter in sight.

Seonghwa will surely name everything he owns to them in his will once he returns in the coming week and sees the glistening state of the apartment.

It reminds you that you, too, need to take care of that one chair that holds the tower of toppling dirty clothes in your room before he sees them and gives you an earful of nagging.

A bead of cold sweat travels down the crevice of your neck.

“How much longer until we arrive?” You committ the mistake of directing the question to the volcanic mountain prepared to erupt any minute now.

The bus jostles with a screech, collectively swinging everyone forward with a painful jerk. Shared sighs and groans echo throughout the bus.

Staying put in your seat in this bus is more challenging than a one minute plank.

“I don’t know, he probably knows.” Wooyoung responds with a shrug, holding onto his dear life.

“Maybe you should walk through this sea of people and ask the bus driver himself.” San suggests with an imposed smile, causing your own lips to stretch into a false one.

“What a fantastic suggestion! I would love to use you as a human shield to push through this crowd and get to the front.” You answer, crossing your arms below your chest.

He offers you his entire irked attention.

Wooyoung’s forehead dives into the palm of his hand. He’d rather hide than let the passengers of the bus know that he is associated with the two of you.

The agitated boy rolls his eyes, lips pressing into a thin line before he launches his lecture. “Okay, you know what (y/n)---”

“Oh for goodness sake! Young man and young woman! Resume your couple’s banter at your place, don’t fight in public places.” The old lady whose patience was being tested this entire journey voices out her protest.

You’re stunned for a good moment before your heads snap towards the lady, wearing similar offended expressions.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung is holding onto his bubbling laughter. His palms having slid down from his forehead to his lips to prevent himself from laughing out loud like a maniac.

“We are not a couple!” You both answer in a hurried chorus.

After the frantic clarification, your eyes meet and the absurdity of the old lady’s comment wipes every single trace of the previous exchange.

Both of you break together into timed, soft giggles and the chain reaction pulls in Wooyoung who laughs into his hands to control the volume.

The lady shakes her head at your reaction. “Well, then, not a couple, don’t fight and let me ride to my book club meeting in peace.” She states her demand, expression indicating that she is cooking incorrect judgements about your group in her mind.

San and you offer her a quick sincere apology, suppressing the amusement derived from her assumption.

“You two in a romantic relationship? More like a disastorous pair of wannabe edgy emo and a pissed caffeinated fantasizer. Nah, totally incompatible.” Wooyoung mutters under his breath.

“He’d get rid of me in ten minutes.” You whisper your reasoning.

San feels the old lady’s eyes boring holes into the back of his head, his arm nudges yours gently, “Make that five. Okay now, zip up.” His eyes and voice both firmly plead.

“Yes sir.” You reply and shrink in your seat further to make room for Wooyoung to breathe.

They’re quite a handful duo, alright, but they’re your handful duo and they handle you as well.

After ten minutes of bumping, shoving and tossing around the entire bus like popcorns, the three of you miraculously step out in one piece.

You take a good five minutes to regain your normal pace of breathing again.

The relaxing wind carrying the gentle floral aroma from the garden calms your suffocated senses.

Ah, finally, freedom from people.

The bus was overdosed with CO2.

Your lips were zipped for most of the ride in order to avoid receiving another sneer from the old lady and making sure you don’t run out of the very last oxygen molecule present in the bus.

Wooyoung is stretching every limb of his body after being pressed in between the sandwich grill consisting of you and the giant man.

“You know what?” He pulls out a little black hair tie to control the little locks ruffling against his eyes. “Ditch me the next time I whine about not walking because that was literal hell. I am never stepping into another bus, ever again.” The determination present in his voice is almost convincing. Almost.

“You’re going to start whining when it’s time to return.” Adds San, after double checking every pocket present on his clothing.

An overwhelmingly tiring yawn falls through your lips.

“Yeah, dude, no false promises.” You inch closer towards San to show your support.

Wooyoung’s exhausted face transforms into an unamused one, “You’re shameless.”

Harsh but true.

“No, no, no, you last minute side switchers, get away from me. I am not claiming you.” Ignoring your presence, he simply walks towards the main entrance of the garden.

A sickeningly sweet smile appears on your lips. “Hey, wait, I promise, I won’t take Wooyoung’s side ever again!” You say in a singsong manner, taking wide steps to catch up by San’s side.

“Where do you think you are going?” The betrayed one gets a hold of your backpack and pulls you back with a forceful tug.

Your shoes brush harshly against the concrete pavement. He accomplishes the task of slowing you down and makes a run for San, wheezing loudly.

“Jung Wooyoung!” You cry out loud at his actions, your backpack flailing out of your arms.

He treads beside his unbothered friend, front facing you from a distance. “We need to meet the professor at the research centre anyway, keep yourself busy until then!” A wink and a cackle, then he grabs San by his shoulders and disappears inside at an astonishing speed.

Like a little kid whose ice cream has been snatched away, you stand there watching San’s waving hand and Wooyoung’s bouncy ponytail fading away.

A strong inhale and a gentle exhale, you try to calm the rapid heaving of your chest.

“Ah, whatever! They’ll text me once they’re done.” Uttering the assuring words to yourself, you fix the carelessly hanging backpack and set course to occupy yourself in the garden until they’re done with whatever they have to do at the research centre.

This is not the first time they have pulled this prank of abandoning you just for laughs and then frantically calling with the classic bait of “yo, come over at this food truck, we’re paying😏”

They throw the same bait under any circumstances and it works pure magic on any living being who lives for eating. Even Seonghwa caves in, and your willpower is -2 compared to Seonghwa’s 10+ patience.

Once you step inside the garden, you’re sure they have ditched you with good intentions as your eyes take in the lavish surroundings.

The green of nature is widespread throughout in the form of sturdy and lean trees, recently mowed grass and snipped shrubs peeking in between, all sprinkled with colourful little flowers like twinkling stars on a clear night sky. A gentle breeze whistles by within small intervals, rustling the leaves with the faintest crackling sound.

There are feeble chirps of birds, hiding in their nests to sleep for the night.

It is heaven on earth as the golden glow of the sun settles upon the scene.

The lulling fragrance of roses carried along with the wind urges you to roll on the blanket of the grass and maybe even take a nap after tiring yourself but you know you’ll be thrown out because there are watchful guards scattered around.

For once, you’re grateful that they left you behind.

You’d rather take a walk around the garden while listening to serene songs rather than awkwardly wait behind them as they converse with the said professor they’re here to meet.

I should explore a little before San gets into his Plant Geek Mode.

A major path from the main entrance splits in several small, stone tracks, like a maze to explore.

The region is vast, tranquil and maintained, no wonder a research centre lies somewhere in this arboretum.

You notice the informative display of the map, standing tall, indicating what lies in between and at the end of every track, piquing your explorer fantasy. There is a stack of small, handy maps for visitors to carry as well.

You grab one, deciding upon the center most lane with your earphones playing the enchanting tune of Like a Flowing Wind by Day6 in a low volume.

“The North Lane leads towards the green house and the research centre.” You murmur, studying the contents of the map with much concentration. “Wooyoung and San probably went that way.” You throw a quick glance behind before resuming your stroll.

The trail you’re currently walking on is the West Way, sheltered with tall towering trees and the Grand Elixir Fountain that lies at the end.

You neatly fold the brochure and tuck it safely inside your pocket, saving the next spots to visit together once you regroup.

Surprisingly, the garden doesn’t have an overflowing crowd.

There are quite a lot of people occupying the benches and seating areas, mostly couples. You notice quite a few students, assuming they are, with their laptops and notebooks, surveying or either sitting in a formation to share their findings.

Everyone is invested in themselves, in their own little world due to which the place feels quite private, snug and pleasant.

The greenery, the sounds of nature, the music and soft whispers creating one whole atmosphere of contentment.

It has been named Golden Blooms for a reason indeed. Except the Research Centre part, we’re going to ignore that for now.

Seonghwa would absolutely love this place. There is nothing not to love about this. You can sketch a million ways of spending time here together.

You don’t want to be a girlfriend like that but you’re to be a girlfriend like that.

A picnic after a long hectic week of continuous classes to unwind while spending quality time together, under a birch tree that casts a wide shadow beneath to watch the sunset while sharing the most mundane and silliest stories of your week and snacking on the collective bag you two usually pack before heading out for your Saturday Sunset Dates.

Maybe you’ll have to give up the spot due to its popular demand but it’ll be alright nonetheless. Instead, you’ll resort to taking every lane to check what lies at the end as Seonghwa’s personal playlist will be the perfect background music.

The day will end with a hearty dinner and crashing in either’s bedroom, cuddling together where he always insists on being the little spoon and you always give in.

Oh god, I went too far.

If just the thought has you feeling immensely giddy, how exhilarating would it feel to actually spend a day like that?

Back to present, (Y/N), back to present.

The uneven stone trail comes to an end as your shoes sink into the bed of the grass. Your next steps feel extremely light.

Walking on this grass is the closet one can experience how walking on a cloud feels like. You constrain yourself from removing your socks and shoes and running around on the grass like a madman--

Holy Shit.

The Grand Elixir Fountain is a masterpiece.

Rather than blindingly white, it is a comforting shade of evanesce beige. The sculptures surrounding the circumference are alluring rather than intimidating of mythical water creatures from numerous mythologies.

A water nymph settles at the heart of the fountain on a wave with water sprouting from the pot she’s embracing.

The gurgling water simmers down onto another platform shaped like a lotus, little droplets splashing on the people standing close by the edge and then gliding down from the platform into the bottom expanse to become a slow, rippling stream.

The Fountain is a high lord, you are a mere peasant. The Fountain is the moon and you’re a small star. The Fountain is queen bee and you’re a worker bee. The Fountain is a high quality gaming PC and you’re a laptop you had to buy with an acceptable graphic card because you’re a college student who is surviving.

Maybe you’re not the best with creative descriptions but it’s okay you’re a law student any way.

Creative writing is Yeosang’s forte and he worries about it plenty.

“Seonghwa can’t be here but I can send him some pictures.” Pulling out your phone, you scan the area.

An old couple are seated on a bench to the far right admiring the view, bunches of people pass by once a while either to leave or enter the area and a small group of friends are circled in a corner preoccupied within themselves.

“Okay, nothing to see here, just a college girl fangirling over a beautiful fountain.” You say it with the intent of addressing the people present but it is mostly directed towards yourself to not get embarrassed before you engage in a long photo session full of fascination over a fountain at an arboretum.

Okay, alright, let’s get this over with.

The cause of your dubiousness is Jongho.

He has pointed out several times that while taking photos you tend to get absorbed and switch into questionable positions just to score a worthy shot.

You somehow manage to capture moderate looking full shots without getting any uncanny looks from the visitors around with only one close up shot left.

The star of the fountain, the water nymph.

It’s alright. Hopefully nobody finds you getting on one knee to capture a decent picture of the fountain uncanny.

You’re just a harmless college girl who wants to text her boyfriend, excite him about your possible future dates and hunt for food while waiting for the two little devils to return and get working before it’s too late.

Gentle sprinkles splash onto your face as you move a little closer with careful steps to find the best spot. The water is enticing on this boiling day.

You hold your phone up, adjusting the angle to your liking. “Okay that’s good.”

Before you can press the capture button, a pair of hands lock around your waist, someone’s weight settling on your shoulder.

“No, shift it a little more to the right.” A voice, obscured by the earphones, speaks extremely close to your ear, sending a quivering sensation down your spine.

The first instinct is to freeze, your entire body numbs at the sudden action, heart beating at an alarming speed.

It is followed by a startling scream of having a stranger’s arms wrapped around your body. The scream pierces through the placidity of the garden, birds from the trees flying away to safety out of fright.

Finally, the adrenaline rush kicks in, your physical senses registering the situation and your reflexes activate.

The phone still connected with the earphones flies out of your hands and ears, elbows diving back to land double smacks on the intruder’s stomach to get him off your back.

The old couple look into your direction with a panicked expression and the entire group nearby jilts up and dashes towards you to investigate the source of the scream.

You turn around to inspect the trespasser who has landed flat on his butt, clutching onto his stomach as continuous groans and curses fall through his lips.

“(Y/N)! What the hell!” The obscurity long gone, you recognize the familiar voice and its owner.

Losing the energy in your legs, you fall down into a squatting position. “Seonghwa?” In a panicked state and a hesitant voice, you call his name.

“No, it’s Ryan Reynolds.” Mockingly, he whimpers, trying to regain his knocked out senses.

It is indeed your boyfriend who is currently supposed to be in Japan but is in pain because you landed two good elbow punches right on his stomach after his 4 hours of excitement at the airport and two hours of flight and it is definitely, hundred percent confirmed especially, after his eyes meet yours, full of pain and shooting imaginary daggers at you.

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but two blows right on his abdomen.

“Park Seonghwa!” You exclaim.

“Nope, no, I am not Park Seonghwa anymore.” He states in a faltering tone.

“Miss, are you alright?” A boy from the far away friend circle interjects, stopping in front of you. “Is he bothering you?” His fingers wrap around your arms to pull you up.

His other two friends help Seonghwa but with a much constrained grab on his arms.

You look at your boyfriend being held by the two strangers and then at the boy, eyes performing a few puzzled double takes.

“Miss?” The boy reiterates his query.

You’re dumfounded, your thoughts hazy.

Collecting the remaining strength in your body, your hands fly in gestures of denial. “No, no, that’s my boyfriend.”

The boys appear skeptical. They exchange disbelieving glances.

“Are you sure? If he’s really bothering you, we can call the police right now.” One of the boys holding your boyfriend suggests with the intentions of your safety.

The frenzied senses simmer down second by second, your hand reaches out to free him from the strangers’ hold. “No, no. Thank you so much for your help but there has been an misunderstanding, that’s all.”

The boys release him and you replace their hold by linking his arm.

“He is really my boyfriend. I was just surprised.” You state with complete assurance.

“It’s also my fault for creeping up behind her. Thank you for watching out. We’re sorry for the disturbance.” Seonghwa takes the cue and bows down a little to offer a sincere apology.

His other hand rests atop your bound one. Your gaze stays taut on him, following his actions to apologize as well.

The boys notice your relaxed figure beside him. “Ah alright, so it was a misunderstanding.”

You nod frantically. “Yes, yes, it was. We’re sorry.” You say politely.

Calculating the situation, the boys exchange final greetings before trusting your relationship and leave you two with a, ‘Be careful with your surprises!’

The surroundings stop still until Seonghwa unlinks your arms to intertwine your fingers instead and bends down to pick up your phone.

“Should we sit somewhere and talk?” He suggests in a composed tone.

“Oh, right, yes.” You answer, mentally occupied collecting the dispersed bits of your comprehension grip.

You two settle on the broad bench, previously occupied by the old couple who left after the ruckus, facing each other.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” You search for his eyes that meet yours in a span of millisecond after the raised enquiry.

Your fingers contract and expand with hesitancy near his abdomen where you, or more accurately, your reflexes stroke him a blow. Eyes fluctuate up and down, from his face to the injured area, teeth abusing the lower lip with worry.

His hands catch and close around your awkward ones, “It hurts but I am fine. It might be bruised but it’ll be gone with time.”

You look at him, face full of regret, “Seonghwa, I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright, (Y/N).” He says with the most assuring look that there is in this world, “I mean it.”

You were worried that he might be mad about the commotion but him unlinking your arms in order to hold your hand was an indication enough that he wasn’t.

His anger is often intelligible. He needs the time to stay mad, cool down and talks only when he is ready. The time creates an emotional distance and that distance is unbearable until his heart is ready to resolve.

He doesn’t hold petty grudges. He certainly forgives but he doesn’t forget. Instead, he draws the line in the relationship to grow apart naturally.

You happened to experience it once when he was conversing with a senior who had given him a hard time and oh boy, the line he drew was fiery and bone chilling cold at the same time.

“So, that was definitely not what I expected after I decided to surprise you.” He confesses, his eyes mellow, “I should’ve listened to Hongjoong when he said that the idea is too sappy.”

While he speaks, you’re occupied with staring at him like a hawk with bulbous eyes.

“What happened?” He prompts you to speak, a fond smile on his lips. “Cat got your tongue?” His fingers fix the disheveled hair resting on your forehead.

His eyes hold such raw warmth while he merely tucks little strands behind your ears that you fail to realize you have tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Hey, why are you crying?” His expression shifts into a concerned one. “What happened?” He probes further.

Before you register your actions, your hand is flying to land a soft blow on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were returning today!”

Maybe the volcanic eruption that was swirling inside San somehow descended into you. The difference is, his was motivated by rage and yours might be motivated by mortification.

He retrieves his hand to hold the area you’re attacking, gaping as he rubs the sore spot.

“Why are you hitting me!” His expression is muddled.

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but you hitting him after he attempts to calm you down as his plan of surprise fails worse than the time he had failed history in sixth grade.

Your hand reaches out to land another gentle smack. “What are you! A freaking saint! Why didn’t you tell me!”

Even you are not aware why the outlet chosen by your feelings is hitting your loving and caring boyfriend who planned such a great surprise that you managed to ruin by knocking him straight into the abdomen with your pointy elbows.

“Wait, what--” Your words only further deepen his confusion.

The next smack or rather love tap, as per your definition, doesn’t get through as his hands are quick to catch yours by the wrists.

“Why are you hitting me babe?” He tilts his head to the side. “You’re hitting me because I am nice?” He lifts his right brow. “What, a saint?” A playful smile lingers on his lips.

The audacity of this man to act coy with you when you are full of all sorts of emotions whirling within you like a raging tornado. The audacity of this perfectly, perfect man!

With your slightly puffy eyes and tears stained cheek, you profess. “I am embarrassed okay! I am really embarrassed, I screamed so----”

A tch sound comes from him, followed by a, “Idiot.”

He pulls you into him through the hold he has on your wrists, your chest colliding with his. His arms wrap around your waist in a secure manner, head resting sideways onto the comfort of your shoulder that he dearly missed.

You melt like an ice cream on a hot day under his touch, taking no time to find content in his embrace, face nestling into his warm neck.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He removes one hand from your waist to offer comforting caresses on the back of your head. “I don’t know what I expected your reaction to be. Honestly, this particular one didn’t even cross my mind.”

You lift your head from his neck but he quickly returns it down again.

“I didn’t expect you to appear in front of me a week before your actual arrival either.” You speak in a muffled voice.

He pauses his stroking for a second, “I knew you were clueless but I didn’t know you were this clueless.”

“Excuse me!” You shuffle in his hold but he has you latched onto him.

He nestles further into your hold, almost pulling you onto his lap out of habit.

“Seonghwa!” Palms pressing against his chest, you try to scuffle away and receive a disgruntled noise from him.

Having performed his action only halfway through, your right leg sits on top of his left thigh and you leave it there to dangle idly.

“Dude, we’re in a public place.” You remind him, placing a sneaky little peck on his neck.

It’s the courage after announcing you’re an idiot to the entire world.

He is astounded by your actions but definitely not as much as you are.

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but you mentioning that you’re in public and then proceeding to plant the softest kiss on his neck, not that he minds the latter.

“Wise words coming from you in a public place.” His thumbs trace circles on your collar bones, voice adding an extra emphasis to the ‘public’.

He squeezes you tightly and moves you in his hold like you’re his own personal teddy bear causing laughter to escape from your lips.

“Giving you a basic hug after you come back after almost a month and a half?” You declare like you have performed some high and mighty act, “No, that is not enough to express my excitement, I had to smash out my love on you, babe.”

His face dawns an unimpressed look. “Yup, I made a mistake coming home.”

Your own words cause your face to scrunch up with cringe. “Yeah, that was too much, don’t talk about this in front of anyone, ever again.”

You missed him. God, you missed him so much.

His long hair is intact, not a single strand has been snipped. He looks as stunning as you imagined him to be. His navy blue coat may have been washed with a different detergent than the one you are familiar with but the earthy smell of his regular perfume is present.

The only new additions on him that you can notice right away is the blinding glow on his sleep deprived face and the abstract patterned scarf wrapped neatly around his neck.

“I missed you.” You wish to say it as softly as possible but you end up blurting out the words.

He smiles with twinkles in his eyes. “I know, idiot. I missed you too.”

You rest your palms on his cheeks and press them hard, lips protruding out in a pout. Pulling him in, you offer him a brief peck.

A long one is saved for later when in private.

The heat on his cheeks is an evidence that he is taken aback by your bold actions.

“First a kiss on the neck and now a long peck?” He smirks, eyebrows dancing up and down. “You’ve become quite gutsy within a month and a half huh?”

You fawn, “and you’re still carrying your mischievous habits with you! I was praying for you to leave them behind during your vacation. Did you achieve nothing?”

“Come here you!” His hand clasps behind your neck but this time he connects his lips to the side of your forehead to plant the deepest kiss.

You shriek as the prolonged peck soon transitions into pillowy lips peppering feathery kisses on every little endearing spot he discovers to shower his love.

Unable to suppress your delight, subdued giggles bubble out of you.

The delight of having him by your side again is indescribable. The current state of happiness you’re feeling is indescribable.

You feel his hovering lips expanding into a smile, foreheads faintly clashing together as you two laugh your heart out.

There are tears forming in your eyes but this time due to happiness rather than humiliation.

Your eyes catch the sun dipping below the horizon, shooting colourful rays as it bids goodbye for the day. “Seonghwa, look, the sunset, it’s so beautiful.” You note while he pulls you into him sideways.

He hums, turning around to admire the view, “Oh wow, that’s......beautiful.”

Time slows down just for the sun to submerge into the horizon with its glory. The orange, pink, purples and blues of the sky press mute on the world for the briefest interval.

He ruffles your hair, pulling you out of a trance, “And that’s our cue to leave.”

It takes special effort to abandon his comforting hold and get back up on your two feet.

The disappointment lasts a mere second as his fingers quickly interlace with yours. “Where to next?” He asks.

He takes slow steps. You stick close by, half of your body weight leaning into him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

You consider your choices for a moment, the grin ever present on your lips, “How about we take a walk and then drive to the river side? I heard there will be star gazing event later at night.”

He looks at you impressively with a questioning smile. “Oh really, who told you that?” A gentle gleam of fondness floats in his eyes.

His heart is swelling with love, your presence is comfortable.

You channel your best know-it-all face, “Oh, you know, Wooyoung, San and I were planning to--”

The sentence stops midway as you remember, Wooyoung and San!

Your movements halt, “Wait, Wooyoung and San!”

He cracks up at your delayed realization.

“They’ll be fine.” His fingers offer a gentle flick on your forehead, attempting to tap some sense into it, “Unless, you know, you want them to continuously comment during our date about how my arrival disrupted their last night’s sleep.” He reaches out for his pocket to pull out his phone but you’re quick to prevent the said action.

“No, no, no, no.” Your reaction amuses him further. “That’s not what I meant. I am glad they ditched me, goodness, never been so glad that someone left me behind, swear to god.” The flurry of words scatter everywhere but the intended meaning has been received by him.

“And what else do you have planned for the night?” He asks, walking straight, exaggerating the breadth of his shoulders.

“My fantastic company, Seonghwa, what else do you need?” In a wounded voice, you question.

He shakes his head.

“No?”

“No.”

“Fine, tonight’s dinner is on me, no budget. What do you want to eat?” You present your best offer in the most sugar coated tone.

His jaw drops in a dramatic fashion you’ve never witnessed in your life, “That’s it? Woman, I flew in today to surprise you today and that’s it?”

You stand on your tiptoes to whisper a special spell in his ear. “Who said that would be it?”

The rasp in your voice has goosebumps rising on his skin.

“What do you mean?” He stares down, eyes wide.

“Hey, by the way, how did you know I was near the fountain?” You quickly change the subject, your thoughts running wild and heart ready to pounce out to run a hundred mile marathon.

“What do you mean?” He repeats, eager to receive an answer.

His innocent smile has been replaced by a devilish smirk.

His constant questioning and hopeful gape has you regretting your previous words, causing warmth to spread on your face.

Flustered, you recite your question for the second time, “Tell me, how did you know?”

“It was a guess. I haven’t forgotten about your pigeon feeding adventures near the mall fountain” His answer is concise, to the point and hurried. “Now, tell me, what do you mean?”

He finishes the topic within a few seconds, arm nudging persistently against the side of your stomach.

This man. Oh god, this man.

“You have a great memory! You remember everything!” The fake enthusiasm and flustered laughter that is evident in your answer has him laughing. “Oh, look, we’re here!” You announce, feeling grateful once you spot the main exit getting closer with every step.

“What did you mean?” He takes quick steps to stand in front of you, his hand leaving yours.

“Seonghwa! Stop it, don’t get back on your teasing shenanigans so quickly, give it a day.” You say as casually as possible, stepping aside to continue on your way. “I’ve embarrassed myself and you quite enough for today.”

Seonghwa slings his arm around your shoulder from behind, “Yeah, alright, we’ll see about that later.” He mimics your casual tenure. “I guess.” He adds, hinting at your suggestive statement.

You nod in agreement, appearing calm and cool, “Yeah, I guess, we will.”

“You little tease.” His free hand gives your left cheek a little squeeze, leaving a light aching.

You stumble a little on your way out of the garden, “If I am a tease that makes you the devil that you truly are.”

“I agree, I am a beast.” He really, actually, dares to say that with his whole chest, out loud.

“Yeah, sure, little baby.” Your fingers mockingly stroke his chin with a pout

He chuckles, changing his position to properly stand by your side. “Enough of that now, let’s go, I am starving.”

“Yup, let’s go, tender beast.” You imitate his own words on him.

“No, seriously, stop that.” He declares sternly.

You do a motion of zipping your lips, holding your free hand up in surrender.

Oh, how the tables have been turning constantly today. You can now understand why Seonghwa never gets off your back and it looks like you will not be getting off his tonight.

Metaphorically and literally.

Meanwhile, Woosan

San, who has been talking with the professor for almost thirty minutes now: It was pleasure meeting up with you Sir

Wooyoung, releasing a sigh of relief beside his friend because he didn’t understand a single word that was exchanged, internally: Finally

Suddenly, San: Oh btw sir I had another question

Wooyoung, ready to create a rampage right there and then, grabbing a chair to smash it on the ground: OH MY FREAKING GOD DAMNIT CHOI SAN YOU---

🌸

A/N: OH MY GOD I CAN FINALLY POST THIS, I CAN FINALLY BREATHE EASY

I started writing this last Saturday and it went through so many drafts and versions, getting cut down to this one. It took me a week mostly due to other commitments. I edited this once and I am sure it still has teeny tiny mistakes but please look past that for now. I will correct it whenever time grants me.

Also, I would really love to know what you think about this chapter! Please let me know, I would really appreciate that 🥺🥺🥺💕

I know it has been a long time since the last update but I reposted the masterlist with the final update schedule and it will update and end accordingly as per that.

(Also the woosan scene is a little exaggeration, they had a rough night, as you will see in the bonus)

🌸 Taglist:

@enigmaticsal @stardusthyuck @missiopk @preets-kpop-world @sanisms @jiyeons-closet @hongjoongsnoona @veeeenus4 @mochibabycakes @vhschs @jaeminbluee @vantclavs @f-iyan @staywritten @yellow-wxve @uppiespuppy @uppiespuppy @mingiflower @multiangell @quicklystickystarlight @kunhye @nekee-lilac02 @peachyprincessminki @hidden-wildflowers @raysanshine @skzpleasestay @tearvantae

🌸 Unable to tag: @mingiibabiee @dreamie-deonghwa @9songbird19 @retrofuture-ism @aratrikade

🌸

Please do not repost, modify or claim this work as yours.

#ateez #ateez social media au #ateez fake texts #ateez text au #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez scenario #ateez au #ateez sm #ateez social au #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jung yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho

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dc41896 · 4 years

Text

Safe Haven

Hey guys! So a little backstory for this imagine, I randomly had a dream about this scenario with EZ and as soon as I woke up I was like “I gotta write that!” so here we are! Also just want to add how I really miss Mayans MC and my bois and I can’t wait for season 3 to come out🥰! Okay that’s pretty much it other than I hope you guys like it and sorry if it’s long or doesn’t flow well (I feel like it kinda seems rushed and towards the end doesn’t sound the best, but then again that might just be me being overly critical of myself 🤷🏽‍♀️ lol).

Pairing: EZ ReyesxBlack Reader

⚠️: Bit of angst, mentions of blood (very tiny), fluff mixed in throughout though

Sunlight beaming down from the small window above your bed, EZ slowly opens his eyes to see your still figure lying next to him. Hand placed just below his newest tattoo marking the birth of your son and leg draped over his, he gently brings you closer taking in the coconut scent of your lotion still radiating off your skin from last night.

Living a life like his, rarely could he experience peaceful mornings just lying down hearing the birds chirp outside, so he made sure to appreciate every second of it that he could.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!?! YOU THINK IM THAT DUMB TO NOT KNOW YOU’RE LYING?!??!!”

Barely muffled shouting from your neighbors coming through the walls, EZ rolls his eyes with a soft groan while you begin to wake up.

“They’re arguing again?,” you groggily ask rubbing your eyes as a yawn slips from your mouth.

“Yea they just started.”

“Well, it could be worse. They could’ve started at one in the morning like last time,” you softly laugh grazing your thumb along his cheekbone. Taking your hand in his, he kisses your knuckles before leaning down to give the same attention to your pouted lips. Slightly calloused yet soft hand gripping your thigh, you push against his chest separating his lips from yours.

“Don’t start.”

“Start what?”

“You know exactly what,” you smirk. “Today we’re supposed to go get more diapers for Omari and more food for my fridge since someone and his brother keep eating everything.”

“That’s all on Angel, I know how to limit myself. And your leg was draped over me so really I should be the one telling you don’t start,” he chuckles kissing your jaw as you stick your tongue out at him. Sitting up, you carefully step over him to make your way to the bathroom.

“Whatever, I can’t help how I sleep Ezekiel.” Closing the door behind you, a wide smile spreads across his face as he shakes his head. While the use of his full name was only reserved for his father and brother, the way it rolled off your tongue made him want to hear you say it all day.

Swinging his legs over the side, he stretches before hearing the soft cries of his eight month old son in the other room. Quickly putting on his white tank and boots, his long legs guide him to the wooden crib in the next room. Tiny arms reaching between the bars, he carefully lifts him up to bounce him in his arms.

“Hey man, annoying neighbors woke you up too huh?” Reaching in his crib, he removes an older looking stuffed bunny with different sized buttons for eyes and a random patterned patch sewn on its belly. “Look what I got.”

Calming down, his hands roam around it’s face fixated on the black point that was its nose. “That patch was because your uncle Angel decided to keep throwing him at the ceiling fan seeing if he would stay on the blade. Don’t ever let him play with your toys ok?,” he smiles kissing the top of his head.

Like every event in his life, he could vividly remember everything that happened that day. Him begging Angel to stop. His hard headed older brother not listening until cotton fell from above. His mother calming him down insisting how it could be fixed as she smoothed his dark hair before kissing his forehead.

It may sound weird, but every time he saw that bunny he felt his mom’s presence as if he was back to that day sitting in her lap watching as she sewed his friend back together. That’s one reason why he wanted his son to have it, so his abuela would be with him.

Hearing your footsteps, he looks up to see you suspiciously looking towards the door instantly making him worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just thought I heard someone stop in front of the door,” you answer taking one last glance towards the front of your apartment. “It’s nothing though, they probably just paused for a second.”

Handing Omari to you, he approaches the door looking out the peephole before opening it to peak outside making sure no one was hanging around.

“Something like that happens again and I’m not here, call me.”

“I doubt-,”

“I’m serious Y/N.” Locking the door behind him he walks up to you and your babbling son peering down with dark brown eyes that were stern enough to know he meant business, yet still displayed their usual softness showing it was out of love for you and Omari that he was being so protective.

“Okay,” you answer; soon after feeling his beard brush against your skin as he pecks your lips.

———

“Ready to go to the park love?”

Bringing the diaper bag higher on your opposite shoulder, you balance your baby boy on your hip as you lock your door. Just as you turn around, you’re faced with three men patiently waiting while two of them intensely looked at you and your son. The tall, slender one in the middle, clad in a grey suit, displayed a small smile trying to appear friendly, but mostly seemed awkward as if he wasn’t used to that emotion.

“Hello, my name is Lincoln Potter and these are a couple of my associates. We’re looking for a man by the name Ezekiel Reyes, or EZ, as some call him. We have a couple witness accounts on seeing him in the area so we’re asking around for more possible information.” Holding up a candid picture of him on his bike outside his dad’s carneteria, you lightly bounce Omari hoping to distort his view so he wouldn’t possibly recognize his father.

“Sorry, haven’t seen him.”

“Well it doesn’t have to be around here. Have you seen him anywhere else? In town perhaps?”

“No, nowhere else,” you answer showing no emotion. While this was your first physical interaction with Potter, you were definitely familiar with the attorney. A few times while you were at EZ’s trailer he’d have to step away to answer his call or meet him in some secluded location. It was then you saw how much of a pain he could be to any target he had his sights on.

Looking at you for a few seconds his mouth parts as if he had more to say, but instead the awkward smile returns as he hands you his card.

“If you do happen to see him, please call. He’s needed for...very important matters.” Taking the card from his hand, he gazes down to Omari innocently nibbling on his fingers. Black coils on the top of his head shifting from the light breeze, his dark eyes finally meet Potter’s crystal blue ones causing a low chuckle to escape the man’s lips.

“Might I add you have a beautiful son. His father is very lucky to have such a beautiful family.”

Through his compliment you could feel a sense of iciness laced within. Like he knew what information you were keeping from him and was 10 steps ahead of your two.

Politely nodding your head as a soft “thank you” leaves your mouth, you walk by the three men feeling eyes on your back. After buckling your son in his car seat, you move to the drivers side quickly closing the door behind you before resting your head on the steering wheel to take a deep breath.

“Mama,” Omari whines lightly kicking his feet wanting the car to move.

“I know we’re going baby boy just give mommy a second.” Dialing EZ’s number, you pull out of the parking lot onto the busy street anxiously waiting for him to answer.

“Hey, you okay?,” he asks, deep voice full of concern and worry.

“Um well yes and no....it’s Potter.”

———

Sat on the floor watching your little boy laugh as he plays with his interactive animal book, you occasionally look out the window anxiously waiting to see EZ and Angel arrive any minute. After telling him what happened, he instructed you to meet him at the clubhouse where he’d take you to his dad’s just in case you were being followed.

Dropping you both off, he didn’t say much as he walked you into the small house. Kissing Omari’s cheek and then your lips, he quickly left again with his brother instantly making you worried. Knowing what was going on, Felipe tried to get your mind off things by offering you food and getting you to talk about yourself or Omari, which worked but not for long.

Now over three hours later, it was dark outside and neither you nor Felipe had heard anything from the brothers.

Motorcycles humming outside, you peer out the window to see Angel and EZ slowly making their way to the front of the house causing you to sigh in relief. However, your worries quickly returned seeing both tiredly trudge through the front door and the front of EZ’s grey shirt crimson with blood.

“What happened?!,” you ask rushing to examine him for any other injuries.

“Calm down, it’s not mine,” he answers bringing your hands to his lips with a small smile. “Just had to save this one as always.”

“Save me? Pretty sure that’s not how it went at all but ok. And I’m good too, thanks for asking.” Shaking his head Angel picks up your son before sitting down on the couch and flipping through the channels on the outdated tv. “You care about your tio don’t you man?”

Little hands pulling his hair as he giggles, Angel lets out a small yelp trying to loosen his strong grip.

“Omari be nice,” you laugh before returning your attention back to your boyfriend. “Here, let me help you clean up.” Leading him to the bathroom, you close the door behind you as he removes his leather vest and shirt before sitting on the toilet.

“Try not to cry this time alright?”

“Psh, whatever,” he lightly chuckles resting his large hands on the back of your legs. A comfortable silence falls over you while you stand between his legs carefully cleaning the blood from his scars. Although you had grown used to these moments being with him for a while now, that still didn’t take away the ache you always felt seeing him hurt.

“You and Omari might want to stay with your mom for a while,” he speaks just above a whisper.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? You saw what happened today Y/N, I don’t want you guys hanging around for it to happen again.”

“If it happens again,” you correct making him roll his eyes as he stands up.

“Now’s not the time to be naive, I’m driving you tomorrow. Your stuff is already packed waiting at the trailer.” Reaching for the door, you stand in his way planting yourself against the worn looking wood with arms crossed over your chest.

“Last time I checked, you’re Omari’s father not mine.”

“Y/N move.”

“No. I’m not afraid of Potter or the men under him, he’s all talk.”

“And how do you know?”

“Because if he really wanted to do something he would’ve done it then and there. I mean think about it they had me at my most vulnerable state with no where to go and no way to defend myself,” you explain receiving an exasperated sigh from EZ as his hand rubs down his face.

“It was a warning. Yea they didn’t do anything when they could’ve, but they wanted to scare you into telling them what they wanted to know and intimidate both of us with what they could do.”

“Well it didn’t work,” you reply guiding his chin to look at you. “Ezekiel I knew what I was getting into when we started talking and I’m still here. If it ever gets to the point where I don’t feel safe or fear for our son’s safety then we’ll leave, but until then I’m not letting Potter get to me. Plus do you think it would be easy for us to just leave after all this time?”

Placing both hands on either side of your head, he slightly bends down leaving his face inches from yours. “I’m not saying it would be easy, but if it needs to be done then that’s it bellita.”

“And when it needs to be done it will be.” Connecting your lips with his, your hands roam from his bare chest to the nape of his neck while his wrap around your body bringing you closer.

“We’re gonna need to put you in a new apartment too,” he says separating his lips from yours as his fingers graze up and down your spine.

“Hopefully your dad is okay with me staying here for a while longer then.”

“Here? What about the trailer?”

“I think the constant revving of motorcycles and occasional parties might not be ideal for a baby to be around.”

“True, you’re probably right,” you both laugh before being interrupted by loud knocking.

“Aye I hate to interrupt your probably intimate moment in there, but your kid is hungry and I’m not sure if it’s for what I can give him or what only mom can,” Angel explains as Omari fusses in his arms. “Relax man I’m trying to get her out here.”

“I’m gonna shower, you better go ahead before he starts pulling his hair again,” he smiles kissing your temple.

Opening the door, you carefully take Omari from his hands tickling under his chin to make him laugh. “Okay my baby lets get you fed.”

“The amount of strength he has that’s not a baby, that’s a tiny grown man,” Angel adds making you laugh.

Tags: @crushed-pink-petals-writes @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @renfrewscorner @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @secretmysteriousperson @plokyu23

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#ez reyes #ez x reader #ez x blackreader #ez x woc #mayans mc

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taking-over-his-life · 4 years

Text

Colt

Written by my internet friend Colt many years ago.

I woke up to the intense pain like that of a migraine headache. I could feel every hair on my body it seemed, with an undertow of muscle aches all over my body. My mind was spinning round and round, trying to figure out where I was. The room was dark, I could sense that the room was strangely familiar, but I couldn’t make the connection. Oh, the pain, how I wished it would go away. As I grappled to sit upright, the pain instantly started to tighten its grip on my head. My eyes started adjusting to the darkness of the room. Fear and panic started to run through my mind, this just wasn’t where I remember going to sleep.

The last thing that I remember was that I had gone to a friend’s party. I had started feeling strange at the party so I had left and went home. I vaguely recall entering my house and going to my bedroom and falling face first onto my bed. And that was all I wrote.

But, now here I am in this room that I have no idea how I came to be in. My eyes started adjusting to the darkness of the room. I could make out that there were two small kids sleeping on cots, and another person that I could hear breathing but couldn't place where they were. I realized that I was now sitting up on a sleeping bag that was on the floor. My brain struggled to figure out where the hell I was. Completely paralyzed by the fear I felt continued its grip on me. And the ungodly pain in my head. I couldn't even wish that much pain on even my worst enemy. Yet, for some reason, the surroundings were so familiar, but I couldn't make the connection with my excruciating level of pain. I must be having one of my migraines and hallucinating at the same time. That was the only explanation that I could think of at this point.

When I quit trying so hard to remember my surroundings, the answer hit me with a vengeance. The room I was in was my Aunt and Uncle’s basement. Their basement had a one very large room with a pool table, tables, couches, and a bar. Ok, I must be dreaming, this just can’t be real. It didn’t make any sense to me. As I sat up on the sleeping bag, I realized that I was wearing full biker leathers. Judging by what I could feel against my skin, I had on a pair of leather pants tucked into tall boots, a leather shirt, a leather jacket and tight fitting gloves on. The leather felt very warm, moist, and sweat soaked against my skin. The leather felt like it fit me like a glove all over my body which felt soothing on my ragged nerves. My eyes had now adjusted to the darkness and I could see well enough to get around the basement.

I NEED air! I couldn’t make any sense of how I come to be in these surroundings. I was still petrified of what has happened to me, and maybe some fresh air will help. I carefully stepped around the obstacles in the basement, acting like a cat trying not to make a sound as I made my way upstairs. The boots and leathers I was wearing started to make plenty of noise, so I did my best to adjust my movements to quiet down the leather creaking. It seemed as though my hearing abilities were magnified greatly over normal, it must have been the fact that it was dark in the room and of course the fear I was experiencing. It seemed to take forever climbing up the non-carpeted steps without making any discernable level of noise. After climbing up the steps, I found myself in the kitchen. I needed something to drink to my quench my dry mouth. I carefully opened up the fridge and grabbed a Mountain Dew (I almost did not recognize the Mountain Dew can) and left the kitchen. Finding the back door to the house, I gently opened the door so as to not wake anyone up. I stepped outside onto the cool patio cement floor, it was obviously summer time. I set my Mountain Dew down on the patio table. The night was deafening to me, it just seemed too quiet for some reason. As I sat down on a bench on the patio in the bright moonlight, I could see something that almost gave me a heart attack. In the driveway were my cousin’s Torino, '40 Ford and my Uncle’s Dodge truck that they had back in the early 70s. Also in the driveway were two Harley Davidson motorcycles. The Harleys could explain why I'm clad in full biker leathers. This can’t be real! I went and looked at the license plate of truck, and it had 1973 stamped into it. Looking out towards the front of the house, I could see my Dad’s GMC pickup truck with its camper shell on it that we had back then too. In front of Dad's truck, was a Chevy Malibu. It looked as though we were on one our annual summer vacations back to Denver Colorado. I could feel something in one of the pockets of my jacket; it was a pack of Marlboro reds in a box that were just a bit smashed. I managed to pull out a few cigs without breaking them. The cigs were not totally damaged, just a bit bent from being squished a bit in my jacket from laying on them. My hands were very shaky trying to strike a match to light up that magic first Marlboro. My leather covered hands finally made the match come to life and lit that first Marlboro. I took a very slow and deep drag, feeling my tenseness starting to subside

somewhat. Exhaling slowly making smoke rings in the night air with the bright moonlight casting its light on the rings. The smoke rings against the bright moonlit night fascinated me for a few minutes distracting me from my situation. I was completely puzzled, trying to figure out a rational explanation for my predicament. I could only remember that when I went to sleep last night, the year was 2003, 30 years from where I was now. And all of a sudden I realized I’m NOT the same person. In the summer of 1973, I was only 9 years old, how could I be this adult sized person? As I finished that first cig, I started to panic again with a new found fear, I lit another cig. Then I popped the top of the Mountain Dew can on the table. I took a big gulp of the magic Mountain Dew, cooling my throat all of the way down to my stomach.

Realizing that there was something in one of the jacket pockets, I reached into the pocket pulled out a wallet. I slowly opened the wallet, afraid of what I would find; I hadn’t even looked at myself in a mirror yet. Using the bright moonlight, I looked at a driver’s license for someone that never existed, yet here it is. The license was a Florida driver’s license. Well, my family used to live there in 1973. I carefully inspected the license, looking at the picture, the printed information, realizing that I must truly be this “new” person. The name printed on the license was Kirk Derek Colten McCormack; the birthday was October 15, 1956; and the address was where we had lived in Florida at that time. OOOOOh my God!!!!! I must be somebody else, but in my own family? The Twilight Zone was REALLY happening to me I thought. My hands still shaking, I lit another cig. Right now, I couldn’t get enough nicotine to alleviate my fears and anxieties. At that point, I couldn’t discern one reality from the next. I was in a REAL Twilight Zone. Where was Rod Serling? He had to be around here somewhere telling the television audience of my predicament it seemed. Did I really look like the guy in the license picture? My curiosity compelled me to run over to my Uncle’s truck to look in the mirror to see what I looked like. The reflection startled me so much that I jumped back a bit after the initial view of myself in the mirror. It was ME, the guy in the license picture and in the mirror. Yikes! I could swear I must be having a nervous crack-up or something.

I know I must be dreaming this whole thing. I thought I should just go inside and go to sleep and I will reawake in the year 2003 where I belong as Jeremy McCormack. Quietly opening the back door to the house, I slipped inside. I decided to lay down on the couch in the family room. To my relief I fell asleep rather quickly.

Chapter Two

I awoke suddenly to someone shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes slowly, hoping that I had just been experiencing a vivid nightmare and that all was back to normal. My Aunt Ruth and I made eye contact and it startled me. Oh, my God! It looked as though I was going to continue to suffer this mind bending nightmare. Aunt Ruth was talking to me, but I really couldn’t make sense of what she was saying. She repeated what she had just said to me. Aunt Ruth kept saying that I didn’t look very well, and that I appeared to have a very high fever. Her hands were like ice on my face. Aunt Ruth said it must be all of the leather I was wearing. I think I was delirious to say the least. All of a sudden, my “brother” Jeremy and sisters Rebecca and Jeanette popped their faces in front of me asking me if I was alright. I jumped back a bit again, seeing my “own” self in front of me. At that moment I was truly freaked out and jumpy to say the least. It seemed like everyone in the house (my parents, cousins, brother and sisters and my Aunt and Uncle) were surrounding me like I was the star attraction, looking at me making their own diagnosis of the situation. I could sense that they must have thought I was high on something, because of the way I was acting (not realizing at the moment that Colt experimented with drugs occasionally). Finally I sat up, still feeling dizzy. I finally convinced everyone that I had a migraine last night and just needed to take a shower and clean up and that that would help me feel better. I somehow managed to stand up even though I was a little disoriented and negotiated the steep staircase to the basement. I now realized that I was feeling the same way I did when I went asleep in 2003. Someone must have slipped me some kind of drug back in 2003, and I was just having a brilliant nightmare. My thoughts were that I must go with the flow of this “dream” so I could survive it and then it would be over and I could return to who I was originally.

I went downstairs into the basement. I found where "my" stuff was which was in a duffle type bag next to a sleeping bag on the floor near my Uncle's pool table. I opened up the bag to go through the duffle bag looking for some clothes to change into after I took a shower. Somehow I had to get some time alone, to try and get my wits together. While I continued to be in deep thought, Dad walked over to me asked whether or not that I felt good enough to still go on our planned motorcycle ride. I quickly answered that I thought it sounded groovy. Going for a motorcycle ride would most definitely give me the time to sort things out without too many interruptions. I could then deal with my situations without my family thinking that I was an absolute stoner and high on something.

I went back to rummaging through the duffle bag so I could get a better idea of who I was now, that is when I discovered quite a surprise. I had mostly motorcycle leathers, 3 or 4 pairs of leather pants, several pairs of tall boots, several pair of leather western shirts, a leather vest and several motorcycle jackets completed the leather gear. The scent of the leather gave me a momentary "high" that I could never get enough of to tell the truth. I was rather stunned for a minute. The leather gear was very soft and actually rather stylish for the time. Several pairs of the leather pants, some were the 70s style bell bottom styles. A couple pairs of pants were vintage (to me any how) motorcycle styled with zippered pockets instead of the regular kind of pockets. What surprised me was the fact, that there were motorcycle leathers in the suitcase. My last “lifetime,” we didn’t own any street motorcycles, just an old dirt bike. The rest was the usual 70s styled clothes and stuff of the like. There was also a small box that was full of Indian turquoise silver jewelry.

I settled on a set of leathers similar to what I was already wearing. A sleeveless black leather western shirt, a pair of breeches, and a pair of highly polished knee high engineer boots (which I had on at the moment). I went to the bathroom, closed the door, and began to take off my sweat soaked leathers. I started with taking off my gloves. On my fingers were several Indian silver rings and a wide silver bracelet laden with different colors of turquoise. When I slipped off my jacket, I noticed a wide black leather watchband. I sat down on the toilet and pulled off my glossy boots. When I took off my leather shirt, I felt that I had a few silver necklaces around my neck. I pulled off a leather strap that held my long hair into a pony tail. I felt a thick mustache on my face that was shaped like an upside down horseshoe. I finished getting undressed and turned on the hot water to the shower and slowly entered the stream of hot water. The hot steamy water of the shower beating down on my face felt so refreshing.

I soaped myself up thoroughly not paying attention to my "new" body. I did notice that when I was washing my hair that I had several earrings pierced in my left ear. I must be really into jewelry. My life in 2003 I could have cared less when it came to any kind of jewelry. The hot water soothed and relaxed my entire body. After I was rinsed clean I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off. That was when I noticed that there was a full length mirror on the back side of the bathroom door. I took a towel and cleaned the steam off of the mirror. I looked in the mirror, and I noticed my “new” body was quite attractive. The reflection of my “new” face in the mirror was a young teenager and those pearly whites were flawless looking. I stood probably about 6' tall and my body was very muscular as though I spent years lifting weights. My straight, thick, long, dark brown hair fell between my shoulder blades. My long brown hair was so soft and silky. My face had chiseled features with a pearly white smile that was just flawless. My thick soft manicured mustache made me look like a rock star with my long hair. I could now see the ear piercings in my left ear. My darkly tanned skin was smooth, tight, with a soft and fine covering of dark brown hair all over. My eyes were an unusual purple color that could mesmerize anyone. My strong hands started feeling all over my body sensing the newness of it all. My hands of course found their way to my crotch. My hands found my cock with huge balls and started working it over a bit. In just seconds, it stood tall and proud at least 12 inches long and nicely thick. Within another minute, I shot a huge load all over the full length mirror on the back side of the bathroom door. The orgasm seemed to last for minutes, and a release that I so desperately needed. At that moment, I froze for a moment as I shockingly discovered that I was staring at TWO cocks both hard as a rock. When I had shot my load, it came from BOTH cocks. Ok, so now I am some sort of freak was the next thought on my mind. But then I realized that two cocks were better than one, with double the pleasurable sensations. I guess it won't be that bad being a freak.

Chapter Three

My mind realized that I had better finish getting dressed. I slipped on the cool black sleeveless western leather shirt. The shirt fit like it was tailored for a perfect fit. I only snapped the front of the shirt about halfway exposing the valley of my chest between my well defined pecs and the brilliant silver necklaces. I placed the wide watchband on next. I kept all of the jewelry on while I took my shower as didn't want to deal with that detail. Then I slipped into the black leather breeches (these breeches were non-flared) making sure that I adjusted for my cocks, one down each leg. The fly was made with exposed metal snaps from the crotch all the way up to the waistband. Rather sexy looking I thought. My thighs filled out the legs of the breeches so smoothly. I tucked in my smooth black leather sleeveless western styled shirt. Then I snapped up the fly of the breeches and buckled up the wide basket weave belt. The pant legs, now that was a different story. Each leg had a zipper that extended from crotch to the bottom of each pant leg. I put on a pair of socks and then I zipped myself tightly into each leg of the breeches. The leathers that I had just shoehorned myself into were the tightest leathers that I had ever remembered wearing in my other life. At the bottom of each leg was an elastic stirrup that looked like it was designed to keep my breeches from bunching up when I sat or stood up. The breeches fit perfectly like the shirt. The breeches fit so smoothly that there was no way I could put much of anything into the pockets. Next, I pulled on my highly polished tall engineer boots which the boot shafts came to just under my knees that were made by Dehner Boot Company. The closest way I could describe how I looked for the most part was that of Maxwell Caulfield in the movie "Grease 2" when he was in his slick full leathers at the end of the movie. I stared at myself in the full length mirror on the door admiring myself for a few minutes and absolutely delighted with what I saw. I was a little narcissistic for a few minutes at my killer looks. I finished getting ready by brushing my hair and teeth. I tied up my long hair into a pony tail with a strip of black leather with a snap on it. I was as ready as I could be to face more of my continuing dream.

Mom (who wouldn’t be my Mother this time around obviously - because Mom and Dad hadn’t gotten married until 1961), knocked on the door to see if I was done, so Dad could clean up. I told her a few more minutes and I would be done. I quickly cleaned up my mess and finished getting myself together.

I went back to my sleeping bag and grabbed my 50s D-pocket styled motorcycle jacket which I noticed was lined in a light weight red perforated leather and a pair of black tight fitting gloves. The gloves I placed into my breeches back zippered pocket about half way in. I gently placed my mirrored aviator sunglasses on the front of my leather shirt where it was snapped up halfway. Where I placed the glasses drew attention to my exposed chest. These few details such as the gloves in my breeches pocket, and hanging the sunglasses onto my shirt just seemed to flow out of me naturally. I could feel my raw sexual energy emanating from my body which I had no control over. There seemed to be an overwhelming power over me on how I carried myself (as Colt). My movements seemed to be guided by that power that I couldn't put my finger on. I guess it must have been Colt's sub consciousness that was controlling me. It seemed as thought my mind was an overlay on top of Colt's mind.

I double checked to make sure my wallet was still in my jacket and grabbed another pack of Marlboros and matches which I put into a pocket of the leather shirt. I went upstairs to the kitchen where Aunt Ruth offered me breakfast, but I decided on a couple of cans of Mountain Dew instead. My nerves were too shot to eat anything right now. My sisters, brother (me before this dream started), and Mother were in the kitchen eating breakfast with my Aunt. Dad was downstairs in the basement getting ready to go on our ride.

I went outside onto the patio with my smokes and the cans of Mountain Dew. Sitting there on the patio smoking and taking big gulps of Mountain Dew my mind was doing quick flashes of my "life" as Colt. The temperature was warming up quickly. It must have been around 80 F now, sunny with brilliant blue clear skies. The time was probably around 10:00 am. The warmth of the day made my leathers start to glue themselves to my skin. The sensations of the leather against my body began to turn me on. I was becoming highly aroused at this point.

I decided to find a distraction to suppress my hormones for a while. I turned to my mounting curiosity to check out things around the house to see if I could remember more. So I decided to walk around and check things out. I walked around the house to the front yard and was checking out what I thought was a Malibu that I saw last night (I was a car enthusiast back in 2003 so this car was intriguing). When I got closer to the car, I noticed that there were not any Malibu or Chevrolet nameplates on the car. There were a lot of differences from that of a Malibu. At first I thought it was a customized car but there were nameplates that read Beaumont SD and 396. The nameplates had a maple leaf on them. The car must be Canadian. I thought what a strange name for a car and perplexed as to why it was in the States. As I did a quick look over of the car, it became apparent that I was beginning to "remember" more and more of Colt (and less of my former self) and that the Beaumont was mine. The Beaumont was red inside and out and appeared to have every gadget you could possibly order on a car back then when it was new. The car just plain sparkled. I must have been a stickler for keeping it looking impressive all of the time.

As I returned to the patio to sit down, everybody except Dad and I were leaving to go visit our Grandparents. I lit another Marlboro and opened the other can of Mountain Dew. I sat transfixed upon the gleaming Harleys sitting in the driveway. One of the Harleys was a red and black Electra Glide with a bunch of accessories and goodies on it. The other Electra Glide was silver and was a bit more spartan. My mind was flashing more bits of Colt's memory. I then knew that the red and black Electra Glide was mine. It was a '70 model that I paid cash for. I thought how could a teenager pay cash for a late model Harley? I probably would remember the answer to that question soon as well. The silver Electra Glide belonged to Dad and it was a '65 model (the first year of the electric start Harleys). I noticed that the driveway was clear of the cars and truck. Everyone but my Aunt must have gone to work. On the far side of the garage was a trailer. I suddenly remembered that Dad had towed the trailer from home. Dad brought the Harleys in it and some of our luggage.

Dad called out to me from the back door of the house. He said he would be ready in about 10 minutes. I went inside and grabbed my jacket. I slipped on my 50s motorcycle jacket. The red leather lining felt terrific against my naked arms. I stuffed my smokes into my shirt pocket. Gently pulling my sunglasses from the front of my shirt I slid them onto my face adjusting them for the perfect position. I grabbed my black leather gloves from the back pocket of my breeches and slowly worked each glove onto my strong hands. I found the keys to the Harley in one of the jacket pockets. I moaned softly with the pleasurable sensations of being totally engulfed in tight fitting, shiny, and highly polished black leathers. DAMN! I knew at that moment that I was HOT looking exuding sexual energy at full power. My cocks started to snake down each leg with considerable strain as my tightly leather clad legs were doing its best to prevent it. I knew that it would be just a matter of time before I would shoot a considerable size load of cum down each leg. At that point I didn't care, I welcomed it actually.

I loved it! I went outside to the bikes and started my Harley. Dad walked out of the house (and locked the door) fully clad in glistening black leather from his neck down. I realized that I had an air of confidence that I had never felt or experienced even in my "previous life" being around my Father. Dad's personality was totally different from my last "life". Dad and I (Colt) seemed to have a very tight knit bond between us in this life. Dad was now a very cheerful person and was insistent on having fun whenever possible. He also had a very different physical build of his body. He was much more muscular than he was in the other realm. We both seemed to feed one liners to each other so we were laughing a lot.

Chapter Four

Dad strutted over to his bike fluidly. It was almost sexy. He started his gleaming silver Harley Electra Glide. My bike was pretty much all warmed up and ready to go. Oh the feel of the exhaust pulsating from the two Harleys just made my pulse quicken and start my adrenaline pumping. Oh I was pretty excited about going for the ride. I told Dad told me to lead the way as I knew how to get to Evergreen by going the long way. We were going to have lunch in Evergreen and then cruise around and head back to my Aunt and Uncle's house in Westminster. Dad thought our ride should last about 4-5 hours. I then lowered myself on to my vibrating Electra Glide. The vibrations made my cocks come to life again. I slowly zipped up my 50s leather jacket up to the snapped lapels. I reached up and turned up my collar to look "cool". This ride is going to be great I thought. I kicked my bike into first gear and slowly let the clutch out and I was heading down the driveway. I gently eased the bike onto the street with Dad behind me. Once I was on the street, I had to just let loose on the throttle and raced Dad to the end of the street. Dad was right beside me. Oh, my gawd, this was certainly better than the Harley I had in 2003. Just feeling the raw power of the Harley going down the road was thrilling my senses. We headed over to the Boulder Turnpike and went towards Boulder. The warm sun beating down on my black leathers and the wind in my face and from the speed going down the highway was so invigorating. I surely enjoyed the wind blowing through my long hair. Between feeling the heat from my leathers to the vibration from the engine of the Harley, I suddenly shot copious amounts of cum down my legs in my leather breeches. Oh that felt so good! What a way to have an orgasm! I didn’t care that I was going to have a mess to clean out of my breeches when we were done with our ride.

As Dad and I approached Boulder (it sure looked different from what I remember in 2003), my mind was starting to remember more memories of Colt the “brother” I had become. I was beginning to see more and more memories flashing in my mind. It was so strange to feel my two lives becoming one. More memories began to come through the more relaxed I became. My old life was starting to fade to where it was beginning to seem like it was the dream. The real Colt personality was taking over my old personality little by little. I could feel the transformation take over me. I was feeling so revitalized with more energy and drive, but with a sense of a responsibility that I was here to accomplish something that I couldn’t do previously. On the west side of Boulder, Dad and I turned onto Hwy. 93 heading south towards Golden. Oh, the thrill of it all. Everything seemed to be making more sense and I started feeling more comfortable with myself being Colt. I decided to let my mind relax enough so that I could remember more of Colt's memories. Being on the motorcycle with the wind in my hair I now was able to be by myself to where I could just let the memories flow through.

#male body swap #body swap #body switch #bodyswap #leather boots

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jennbabeyy · 4 years

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Cinderella.

A/N: I’m back !!! This is a long one but I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I did. If you want the full experience, listen to Mac Miller’s song “Cinderella”. Thank you for reading 🥰

“I been waitin' all night for this moment I been waitin' all year for this moment I been picturing you takin' off your clothes for me I been literally curvin' all these hoes for you”

Angel swore he didn’t do relationships but there was something about her that drew him in from the very first time. She was innocent, pure and beautiful. He knew that she had men coming after her just by taking one look at her.

He was at a corner store with some of the Mayans collecting money that the owner owed Bishop when he saw her. She was with her friends, never once laying her eyes on him. But Angel swore she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and it would be a shame if he didn’t at least get her name.

It was a whole 20 minutes before Ez dared Angel to ask for her number, which he did.

She wasn’t easy to break through, but when the Mayans left the corner store , Angel left with a giant smile on his face and her number safely tucked in his pocket. The rest of the guys were throwing jokes at him but Angel was on top of the world, nothing could bother him at the moment.

It had been a few weeks later when he finally invited her to the party Bishop was throwing for one of the guys. He kept going back and forth oh the idea of inviting Y/n but eventually Ez convinced him.

It was tough but Angel convinced her to come through, and in the back of his mind he wonders if maybe this will be the thing that scares her away. Not most girls can handle the club life and Angel was nervous to see how she would fit in with his extended family.

The guys though, they thought it was funny that Angel would barely pay any attention to the girls that lingered around the clubhouse. Only 3 weeks of texting with Y/n and he was smitten. Any other girl around him didn’t seem to exist and that was new for him. He once welcomed the girls that tried to give him attention around the clubhouse, now they were just a bore to him.

The girls that tried to sit on his lap that night, he would dismiss them, not taking any chances. Y/n would be arriving soon and all he wanted was to be with her.

None of the guys ever saw Angel act this way about a girl.

“Been here every night for weeks at a time You in my dreams that's why I sleep all the time Just to hear you say I love you, just to touch you, just to leave you behind”

Ever since that night, your relationship moves at a pace that excites Angel. He hasn’t been in a relationship for a while but he knows this wasn’t like anything else. It’s smooth and easygoing, something that Angel never really dealt with in his life. But he finds himself enjoying every second he can get.

This morning, Angel doesn’t know if he’s dreaming or not but he hears the shower going and Y/n comes to mind. She loves taking showers in the morning before he even wakes up. It’s an inside joke between the both of them that it’s the only time she has without Angel and how much she takes advantage of it.

The water turns off and Angel hears the rustle of her movements as they bring him out of his sleepy state. He barely opens his eyes and sees her figure dress in his shirt that fits way too big on her.

A small smile appears on his face, when he realizes that her clothes are dirty and are mixed with his in the hamper. She hasn't gone back home for about a week but Angel doesn’t mind, he loves seeing her in his clothes.

He closes his eyes once again, the sleep coming back to him. It used to be hard falling asleep but ever since Y/n came into his life, he’s embraced the feeling of sleep. He dreams now but they are all filled with her. She’s his own very angel. Sometimes it’s hard for him to distinguish what is real or what is a fantasy.

Angel hears her humming as she picks up the clothes he’s left behind last night, and he swears that’s what lures him back to sleep.

Her sweet giggles fill his ear and he feels her smooth hands caress his cheek. Letting out a sigh, Angel realizes this is his favorite kind of morning.

The last thing he remembers before drifting back to sleep, is her whispering “I love you.”

This is what love is, Angel thinks as he drifts off to sleep.

“Daddy told you, better bring your ass home Cinderella better get your ass home Man I swear the parents just don't understand“

Her parents weren’t huge fans of Angel. Ever since he had picked her up in his motorcycle, he clearly made out the judgement on their faces. Though Y/N never let her parents come in between their relationship, deep down Angel was scared one day she would come to her senses and leave him for someone better. He even feared about how much her parents actually liked his brother better than him. It took him a while to get over but it still crept into his mind from time to time.

Most nights Angel enjoyed the company of his girl along with a nice movie night. Tonight was no different, after having a semi food fight with Y/N, they were both freshly showered watching a comedy movie. It wasn’t a movie that interested him but it was her turn to pick one and Angel was more than happy to just lay with his girl.

It started with just a simple text, which had interrupted their argument about which cereal was the best. He stayed quiet knowing that it was her dad, always making his way in between them even if he was nowhere near them.

A small sigh escaped Y/N’s mouth, though she hid it quickly with a smile. A kiss made his worries fade away just for a minute before it was interrupted again.

This time a call and Angel knew their peaceful night was coming to an end. No matter how old both Y/n and Angel were, he still respected her parents and if he wanted a future with Y/N he would have to put up with it. So he did.

“Baby, just answer” Angel gave Y/N a small push, nodding his head towards her phone at the end of the couch.

“But its movie night, and we said no phones. Plus he just wants to continue to say snide remarks now that he knows I’m here with you.”

And Angel knew it, but he kept his mouth shut. No matter what he didn’t want to cause a drift between Y/N and her dad.

Fuck he loved her. And if he had to put up with her dad, he would because to him Y/N was worth it. Every snide remark, he could take it as long as he had her by his side.

She was his future and her parents would just have to get used to seeing their daughter with him.

“We started on the bed and then we moved onto the floor I thought you was an angel now you yellin' to the Lord”

Angel couldn’t believe he had been together with Y/n for about six months. By the time their anniversary comes around, she has moved in and Angel swears that it was bound to happen since the first night she spent the night over.

That night, he planned a date night with the help of Coco and Ez. Both of them never wasting the chance of being able to tease him about being whipped. And he was proud to admit it, Y/n was the first girl to ever change his life and he couldn’t believe an angel like her wanted him just as much.

By the time Y/n arrived home, the entire floor was covered in red petals that led to their bedroom. The candles on the ground lit the way and Angel could see the happiness appear on her face. She had no idea he would even do something for their 6 months. He had made sure she was out of the house for the entire day. He even had to pay Letty extra to make sure Y/n would stay away until he was ready.

It’s this moment he realizes that his favorite thing to do is surprising her and watching the way her face lights up.

She’s dressed in his favorite, a flowy sundress. But he swears she looks good in just about anything. His favorite look would be her wearing his t-shirt and he gets to see that every day she goes to bed.

Angel is enchanted with the way she is, how she moves, how she makes him feel.

She makes him feel loved.

She’s his very own angel.

Throughout the darkness, he watches her eyes shine beneath him. She looks beautiful to him as she comes undone right in front of him.

And Angel swears it’s the best view he’s ever seen.

“You used to tell me all the time I ain't your type Now you always wanna spend the night Now I'm doing everything you like“

Angel lets out a smile as he watches Y/n bond with his dad. Ever since he introduced the two of them, he noticed the way she perfectly fits with his small family. His dad had welcomed her in with open arms and Y/n always made sure to have family dinners every Friday if possible.

And his dad had given a nod of approval for the first time in Angel’s life.

Letting his eyes roam over the most important people in his life, Angel thinks back to the day where he met the woman that changed his life.

A small laugh threatens to escape his mouth as he remembers her fiery temper, the day he tried to ask her out properly.

It had taken a while to convince Y/n, she took one look at him and had made Angel work for it every single day.

Now almost a year later, Angel finds himself doing most of the things Y/n loves to do. She’s an artist, a talented one if you asked him. And of course he was 100% biased but his girl knew her way around a paint brush. They sit in their backyard on a blanket as the sun sets, her favorite wine opened. He sucks at anything that involves art but just watching her while she works makes Angel feel at home.

And he just admires her, watching as she mixes colors in front of her. He feels like she’s the artwork but to his surprise she painted him, capturing the intimate moment between them.

Her very own muse.

It’s their thing now, something he looks forward to but also something he keeps to himself. There’s no way he would let his brother or best friend know about this, he would be teased for life.

“Yeah, but I still respect the game

Every time I’m out of line

You always set me straight

The sex is great, for heaven’s sake

I need it everyday”

It’s a first for Angel but there’s rarely any fights between the two of them throughout their relationship. He had always been used to the constant fighting when he was seeing someone or even just used to the constant toxic negativity with the other person. But with Y/n, there’s none of that and if a fight would happen he still respected her because he knows that at the end of the day he still loves her no matter what.

Angel never once finds himself looking for another woman’s company when a fight breaks between the two of them. He may spend the night at Coco’s but early the next morning Angel is back at home making breakfast for her. It’s his own way of apologizing for what he did wrong.

He knows when he says something out of line, Y/n will be the one to always tell him what’s good. When the club shit gets too much to handle, and he brings home the stress, she makes sure that they work through things together. They’re a team, it’s the first thing that pops into his head when he’s away from home doing work for the club.

Everything changed when Angel finds himself making decisions based on her. It's a first for him. He’s no longer by himself, he has a girl to think about too.

And after the fighting is done, the make up sex is amazing. Angel looks forward to it even when he’s too angry to talk to her. Even when she feels frustrated every time he gets a call from Bishop during an intense argument. It’s something that’s always on the back of his mind. Once everything is made up between the two of them, he leads her to the bedroom. And sometimes they don’t even make it.

He’s addicted to her.

“Never gonna find nobody better, all my life”

#angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #angelreyes #mayans mc imagine

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hookedonapirate · 3 years

Text

Through the Rising Tide

Thank you so much for the beautiful graphic @itsfabianadocarmo!

Summary: The Jones brothers are polar opposites. Liam's the safe and honorable one, straight-laced and straight as an arrow. The good son.

Killian's the dangerous one, the bad boy with tats, leather jackets, a motorcycle and a questionable past.

The only things they have in common are panty-melting sea-blue eyes, the flat they share in Storybrooke and a rare blood type.

Oh, and apparently their taste in women.

Or rather, one woman.

Feisty.

Blonde.

Gorgeous.

Green-eyed Goddess.

Killian saw her first, but she chose his brother—the nice guy over the playboy. And even though she’s dating his brother, it doesn't make him want her any less. If that's not bad enough, she moves in with them and he has to pretend he's not completely in love with her. His life could not get any worse…

Until Liam dies in a tragic motorcycle accident.

Leaving each of them with one half of a broken heart.

Now Killian and Emma are left helping each other pick up the pieces.

Just as they're beginning to learn how to live in their new reality, another riptide pulls them further into the deep end when she finds out she's pregnant with Liam's baby.

Notes:

Starts out as Jewelled Swan. Don’t like, don’t read!

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for looking it over!

This story was inspired by Baby Mine by Kennedy Fox, and I loved the book so much and thought it was very much underrated. I’ve wanted to write a fic like this for a long time now because it’s one of my favorite tropes, but after I read that book, I just had to write my own take.

The title comes from the lyrics of the song, Lay By Me by Ruben. The particular line goes like this:

"I hope you know through the rising tide

That I'll be here and you can lay by my side"

If you've never heard it, I recommend giving it a listen. It's an amazing song and very fitting for this story.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFJbLzEtoZw

P.S. In case you're unable to read the shoulder tattoo in the picture above and are wondering what it says—

"There is no happiness without tears

No life without death

And no true love without heartbreak"

Rated: Explicit for smut (including sexual fantasies, masturbation, implied and detailed sex, etc.) and language (lots of F-bombs).

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

Catch up: Ch 1 // Ch 2 //

Chapter 3

One Year Later…

With a sleepy groan, Emma shoots out her hand to silence the loud, annoying noise coming from her phone. “Ugh…” She drops the device on the nightstand and retreats underneath the covers, not ready to get up yet. She’s never ready to get up in the morning. She rolls over to her other side, seeking warmth from the body lying next to her. She wraps her arms around his torso and buries her face in his chest, not wanting to leave him. But she has to get ready for work. She hates the thought of leaving his arms, though. They fit so well together like this, like two puzzle pieces.

She knows the longer she lies here like this, though, the stronger the urge to stay will be. She attempts to force herself out of bed. She kisses her sleeping boyfriend’s forehead and starts to get up. His strong arms pull her back to him, his hands latching onto her hips, pulling her on top of him so she’s straddling him. Emma emits a sleepy moan when she feels his thickness pressed against her core.

“Where do you think you’re going, love?” he asks, his voice groggy with sleep as he wraps his arms around her to ensure she won’t leave him.

“I have to go to work,” she groans, clearly not happy about it. When he tightens his arms around her, she wiggles in his hold and laughs, trying to free herself, but honestly, she’s not trying very hard.

He caresses her cheek and pulls her in for a lazy kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to taste her. She moans against his lips, her body tingling and molding to his as she rocks slightly against him, her arousal coating his hard length as he arches his hips into her, seeking more friction. Friction she desperately wants to give him.

But as much as she wants to get caught up in the kiss, in the effect he has on her, as much as she wants to just give herself to him and ride him into the next world, she really has to get up and go to work. She breaks the kiss, as painful and difficult as it is. “Babe, you’re not making it easy,” she says breathlessly.

He pouts as he looks up at her, his crystal blue eyes boring into her green ones, not making this any easier. No, the way he’s looking at her right now makes it ten times harder.

“Sure you don’t have time for a quickie?” he begs, releasing a small groan of desperation as he palms her naked breast, brushing the pad of his thumb over her nipple, making it hard.

“Babe, if you make me late—” Her pleas are instantly silenced when he moves his hands to her ass and squeezes, pressing her more firmly against him.

He flashes a devilish smirk, one tainted with mischief that she only witnesses when they’re either talking about sex, having sex or about to have sex. “Then I’ll get to fuck you for the next hour.”

Emma had actually planned on getting up, but when she feels Liam’s lips on her neck and his teeth nibbling her skin, when she feels the head of his cock at her entrance, all bets are off. A moan tumbles from her lips and soon, Liam is grabbing her hips and sliding into her. Emma sits up, placing her hands on his chest in total submission and rocks her hips back and forth, eager to have him completely buried inside of her.

“Oh, fuck, Emma. . .”

He reaches for her breasts again and squeezes as she rides his dick. She’s so glad she’d set her alarm clock fifteen minutes early like she always does because she knows nine times out of ten, she’ll let Liam get his way. It's their morning routine.

But she can’t help it. Her boyfriend is so irresistible. The way he flips her over, sending Emma to her back, the way he pounds into her so rough and hard like he can never get enough of her. The way he kisses her so deeply and passionately, making her head spin. The expression on his face as her walls grip his cock, the way he groans, setting her skin ablaze. And the way he’s kissing her after it’s over, both of them breathless. When he pulls out, the way he kisses every inch of her on his way to her satisfied core, his cum dripping from her entrance as she combs her fingers through his curly brown hair. The way he laps up both of their orgasms from her cunt until her walls are fluttering around his tongue. She can’t help but give in to all of it.

Emma’s fingers clench around his hair as she screams through another incredible orgasm. “Fuck… Liam!”

And once she's able to reassemble herself and jump out of bed before he can talk her into cuddling or going for another round, she immediately hates having to leave him. But now she must.

Emma throws on some clothes, making sure she’s dressed appropriately in case she runs into her other roommate as she heads to the bathroom. The big, blissful smile plastered on her face instantly vanishes, though, her nose scrunching in disapproval when she steps on something and looks down, spotting a red, lacey thong on the floor outside Killian’s bedroom. A thong that is not her own.

What the actual fuck?

She grimaces and kicks the fabric aside like it’s contaminated with a deadly virus. She’s not surprised though. Disgusted, yes, but not surprised. Killian is always bringing a different woman home with him, and she and Liam always have to hear the noises coming from his bedroom. Therefore, they never feel bad when they’re going at it in their bedroom, and don’t even bother being quiet.

Sometimes she thinks the two brothers are engaging in some sort of weird contest, trying to see who can make the woman they’re with scream the loudest. She gathers it’s a pissing contest between the two brothers to see who’s the better bloke in the sack or to see who has the bigger cock. So Emma always makes sure she’s extra loud to let Killian know just how good his brother is in the sack. And so far, none of the women Killian’s brought to his bed have outmatched her.

Emma grins at the thought as she continues to the bathroom to relieve her bladder. She also thinks about how much things have changed since she came here to Storybrooke. She’d never meant to start a relationship with Liam, or anyone for that matter, when she’d ran into him outside his bar the night they’d met. They had exchanged phone numbers and he’d asked her out the next day, to which she’d reluctantly accepted. She was reluctant, not because she wasn't attracted to him—because God, she was—but because she still had a strong fortress surrounding her heart from when Neal had shattered it to pieces. But when she’d learned Liam too was cheated on by an ex, they had bonded over their heartaches, and she thought they could help each other heal. But they did so much more than that.

Emma fell for Liam and she fell hard. He’s much like a teddy bear, only soft on the inside, not the outside. He’s kind and loving and warm and best of all, he makes her laugh. When she’d discovered how good he was in bed on top of all his amazing qualities, she thought he was too good to be true. He seemed like the total package. He is the total package. But still, she’d kept waiting for the other shoe to drop; it never did, though. Or at least, it hasn’t dropped. yet.

Once she's under the shower stream, she’s wetting her hair and singing the first song that comes to mind. Titanium by David Guetta.

“You shout it out, but I can’t hear a word you say. . .”

After nine years, she still sings this damn song. But it’s so perfect for the shower because the lyrics are ones she can easily belt out, the words echoing beautifully off the bathroom walls.

She’s been singing in the shower since she was eight years old. Her brother would always pound on the bathroom door when she was taking a shower, and yell for her to stop. It was like that when they lived in the same house growing up and it was like that after she moved in with him and Mary Margaret. She has to admit, she misses annoying the hell out of her brother.

Bang, bang, bang.

“Would you stop your bloody awful singing?!" Killian shouts through the door. “Some people are actually trying to sleep around here!”

Now that she lives with Liam, she has his pain in the ass brother to annoy. As fun as that is, it’s not really the same.

Emma doesn’t stop though. Instead, she grins to herself and lathers shampoo into her hair, closing her eyes as she makes sure to sing even louder and more obnoxious.

“You criticize, but all your bullets ricochet. Shoot me down, but I get up. . .”

Ever since she moved in with her boyfriend eight months ago, Killian has been a pesky thorn in her side. He’s been nothing but a nuisance. From leaving his dirty dishes in the sink to sleeping with a different woman almost every night to pissing her off every chance he gets. He’s always trying to bring her down, always finding new ways to push her buttons. She’s not sure exactly why it all started. Maybe because he’s held a grudge against her since she chose his brother over him. Or maybe because he thinks she’s trying to steal his brother away from him. But either way, she’s not giving him the satisfaction of letting him get to her. Or at least letting him know he gets to her.

Emma starts shouting out the lyrics, each word louder than the previous one, purposely trying to get a rise out of him, just like he always does to her.

“Shoot me down, but I won’t fall! I am Tit-aaaaan-iiiiiiiuuuuuum! Shoot me down, but I won’t—”

The whine of the faucet interrupts her, and suddenly she's shivering, no longer feeling the hot water spraying her skin. What the fuck? One second she's rinsing her hair and the next, the bathroom door is slamming shut and she’s just standing there in the bathtub with shampoo dripping down her face and no water to rinse it out with.

That damn bastard turned off the shower!

“What the hell?!” she screeches, her words garbled when the shampoo drips into her mouth. She spits it out and spins around, blindly reaching for the towel on the rack, yanking it off the bar and wiping her face with it. “You asshole!”

She steps out of the tub, blood bubbling under her skin as she wraps the towel around her body. Okay, pounding on the bathroom door is one thing, but shutting off the water while she’s taking a shower is a whole different level of asshole for Killian Jones! And she won’t stand for it. She’s not letting him get away with this.

She marches out of the bathroom and down the hall, leaving a dripping wet trail of soapy water behind her. But she doesn’t give a fuck at the moment. She rips his door open and storms into his room without any sort of grace. She hurries over to his alarm clock, which he leaves on his dresser across the room so he'll have to get up to turn it off. He does it so he won’t be tempted to hit the snooze button and fall back asleep.

Killian’s in his bed with the covers over his head as Emma turns on the music and cranks up the volume. She immediately spins around and scurries out of his room, her heart hammering in her chest, but when she makes it to the doorway, she can feel his hand gripping her arm as he turns her around and presses her firmly against the wall, just outside his door.

She loses her breath.

He doesn’t say anything at all; he just stares at her, a mixture of emotions written all over his face. She can’t tell if he’s pissed or irritated, or if the look on his face is just pure hatred for her. Or if it’s something else entirely.

Emma loses a breath when he closes the gap between them until their bodies are pressed together, his face inches from hers. He still doesn’t murmur a word, just stares at her.

She gulps when his eyes flicker over her face, and it almost seems like he’s going to. . .

No, no, no, that can’t be. She knows for a fact she’s just imagining things, because Killian would never try to kiss her. Not only because his brother is dating her, but because he hates her with every fiber of his being; he’s never said it out loud, but she knows deep down he does.

Killian’s still staring at her and she’s so stunned in her spot, she can’t even move. As his eyes move to her lips, she swears she stops breathing, her heart pounding in her ear. He hasn’t looked at her with anything apart from hatred since the night they met.

He quickly amends his stare, his eyes snapping to hers, regret clouding his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispers huskily and releases her, dashing to his room and slamming the door behind him.

What the hell was that?

He may have been able to move, but she feels like she’s superglued to the wall. She can still feel his palms on her wrists like he’s still pinning her, but he’s not.

“What the bloody hell was all that racket?”

The sound of Liam’s voice makes her heart jump into her throat, and she has to peel herself from the wall. When she does, she feels a million times lighter. She blows out a long breath. A breath she feels like she’s been holding this whole time. She turns to Liam and gets on her tiptoes as she wraps her arms around the back of his neck, kissing him chastely on the lips. “Nothing, babe, it was just your annoying brother hollering at me for singing again and telling me how awful of a singer I am.”

“Don’t listen to him. You sing beautifully,” Liam assures her sweetly, kissing the tip of her nose. “I love your singing.”

Emma smiles at his compliments, but her face twists at the memories of Killian turning off the water on her. “I never do listen to him, but that asshole shut off the shower on me while I was in there. And I had shampoo in my hair and it got in my eyes and mouth.”

She can see the anger spiraling through her boyfriend, his features appalled. “He did what?!” Liam lunges toward Killian’s door, but Emma moves in front of him and places her hands on his chest to stop him.

“It’s fine. I got him back.” She smirks. “I turned on his music and cranked up the volume.

“I know, I could hear everything,” he grumbles, his eyes focused on Killian’s door. Emma’s still standing in front of him so he won’t go charging in there, but he manages to pound on the door. “What the fuck, Killian?! You don’t go into the bathroom while Emma’s using it! She lives here, too, you wanker!”

“I already told her I was sorry!” he calls through the door.

Emma furrows her brows. She thought Killian had said he was sorry for pinning her against the wall and almost kissing her. Or at least, that’s what it seemed like.

“Sorry, love,” Liam murmurs, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead. “My brother’s a pompous arse sometimes.”

She can’t disagree with that. This is far from the first time Killian’s been a jerk to her and it won’t be the last. She wishes she and Liam could get a place of their own. What she wouldn’t give to be able to get up in the morning and prance around the apartment half-naked, or even naked if she so chose to be, not having to worry about annoying roommates who only stir up trouble and tell her she’s an awful singer. She knows her boyfriend wants to be close to his brother, but still, how does Liam not get sick of Killian’s shit?

“It’s fine,” she assures him, looking up into his warm blue eyes. “I just can’t wait until we get a place of our own. Just you and me.”

A serene smile stretches over Liam’s lips as he gazes into her eyes and caresses her cheek. “I can’t wait either, baby.” He turns her toward the wall, pressing her back against it, much like Killian had done a few moments ago. Emma moans when she feels Liam’s thickness digging into her thigh. “Then I would get to fuck you whenever I wanted without worrying about my little brother pounding on the wall, telling us to stop.” He lifts her up and she instinctively wraps her legs around his waist as he buries his face in the crook of her neck and gives her a few gentle thrusts. Emma tilts her head back and moans, loving the way his cock feels pressed against her center. He’s wearing boxers, but she can still feel every inch of him.

“That would be amazing,” she murmurs breathlessly as he leaves a trail of kisses down her neck.

“But it might not be such a good idea because then I would never want to leave. I’d want to stay home and make love to you all day.”

Emma laughs as his words vibrate against her skin. “You’re insatiable.”

“Can’t help it, love. You’re so bloody gorgeous and perfect. And when you have something rare and precious, you hold onto it and never let it go.”

Emma’s heart warms, a blissful smile curving her lips. Liam’s sweet lines, no matter how cheesy or sappy, are just some of the reasons why she fell in love with him. He always knows what to say to make her feel special. Emma fists her hands in his hair and pulls his face to hers, capturing his lips for a heated kiss.

Killian’s bedroom door opens, and he barges through the hallway, bursting their cozy, quiet bubble. “I can’t wait for you two to get your own place either. Then I won’t have to hear you two fucking every goddamn second of the day,” he grumbles as he marches down the hall.

“Oh, like we’ve never heard you fucking one of your many conquests!” Emma hollers after him.

“Whatever, I’m taking a shower. I’m late for work and you’re taking too damn long.”

Emma’s eyes widen when he disappears into the bathroom, and she releases herself from Liam’s hold and follows Killian, but before she can stop him, he slams the door in her face.

She’s seeing red as she wiggles the knob and is even more pissed when it’s locked. “You asshole! I have to rinse the shampoo out of my hair since you shut off my shower before I could!”

He answers by turning on his heavy metal music.

Emma lets out a frustrated scream and pounds on the door. So much for being at work on time today.

She’s fucking pissed and about to kick the door, but Liam’s warm arms instantly put her at ease.

“Come on, baby, don’t let him get under your skin. Let me make you breakfast while you wait for the shower.”

Emma relents and goes to her room to grab her bathrobe. She rinses her hair off in the kitchen sink as Liam starts the coffee.

~*~

Killian’s still cursing to himself when Emma’s in the shower for the second time that morning. He tugs on his shirt, hating himself for what he’d done earlier in the hallway. He never should’ve pinned her against the wall and almost kissed the bloody hell out of her, but he’d reacted before he could control himself.

When he had pressed her into the wall, she was standing there, dripping wet in nothing but a towel. He can still see the wet spots on the carpet where her hair had dripped to the floor—in his bedroom when she marched in here to turn on his music and outside his door. He’d damn near drooled when he gazed upon the soft swell of her slick breasts, and couldn’t help but notice her pebbled nipples underneath the thin cotton. He could feel her taut nipples against his chest when he pressed himself into her. She was so fucking sexy, and he wanted to pick her up and carry her to his room and have his way with her. Or seeing that she was naked underneath the towel, he wanted to lift her up and just take her there against the wall. It would have been so easy to slide inside of her and just fuck her senseless. Neither of those scenarios was an option, obviously.

Killian sits on the edge of his bed, sighing into his hands. As much as he pretends to and wishes he actually hated her, he’s unfortunately in love with her. After he found her in his kitchen wearing Liam’s shirt a year ago, he did everything he could to forget about her. He's tried sleeping with other women, he still tries that method, but it never bloody works. It only makes him wish those women were Emma. It makes him want her more. It makes him feel more lonely than he already is.

Maybe he would've been able to forget about her if she hadn't kept showing up here. And it was bad enough when she and Liam had their sleepovers all the time, but then she moved in eight months ago because she was sick of living with her brother, and Liam was sick of not waking up next to Emma every morning.

Killian hates living here with Liam and Emma. He hates having to hear them fuck in the bedroom next to his; he hates having to hear them speak to each other like they’re so fucking in love. It makes him sick.

He hates having to witness every milestone in their relationship. He had to listen every time Liam went on about how he was falling for Emma and how she was his soulmate. He had to hear about it when Liam told him he had finally professed his love for her; he had to hear about it when Liam said he could no longer stand living without her, and how he wanted to ask her to move in with him. Liam sought Killian's approval, which he reluctantly gave, and had to hear about Emma’s reaction and how excited she was when she said yes.

Killian’s had to listen to every conversation Liam and Emma have had when they’re all home at the same time, he’s had to watch them feed each other, he’s had to witness one of them going into the kitchen, grabbing a can of Reddi Whip and heading back to their room countless times. For the past year, he’s had a front-row seat to Liam’s and Emma’s relationship, and he’s hated every fucking second of it.

In the beginning, Killian had hoped their relationship would be temporary. Emma had been cheated on, too, just like Liam, so they had that in common and it was something they bonded over in the beginning. Killian thought they both just needed to cleanse themselves from their cheating exes, and that they were using each other to do that, but nope. What they had in the beginning went beyond helping each other heal. And Killian can’t blame his brother for wanting something more with Emma. She’s the whole fucking package and Killian knows this just as well as Liam does. It’s the reason why Killian hasn’t been able to tame his feelings for her, even though he knows she’s completely off-limits.

He’s happy for Liam, he really is. He’s glad Liam found someone as amazing as Emma. He’s glad Liam is happy. He just wishes he’d never met her at the bar that night. He wishes he’d never set his sights on her so that maybe then he wouldn’t be pining for his brother’s girlfriend. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so head over heels for her. But then again, maybe he would still feel the same way about her, no matter how or when he met her.

Maybe it’s his fault though. He knows his feelings for her would be so much easier to deal with if he didn’t live with her.

There have been so many times he told himself he was finding another place to live, but at the end of the day, he talked himself out of it because why should he leave? This was his apartment long before Liam even met Emma. Hell, this was Killian’s apartment before Liam moved in with him.

Killian moved here after he graduated from high school and his first roommate wouldn’t leave after not paying his share of the rent for six months. Killian could have gone to court, filled out the paperwork and served him with an eviction notice, which would’ve given his roommate a month to move out. But Killian had another idea in mind that would speed up the process, and all he had to do was beg Liam to go along with it. He got the idea from watching an episode of Friends. The One Where Eddie Won't Go. Chandler couldn’t get his annoying, nut job of a roommate to leave, so when Eddie returns to the apartment the next day, the lock on the door has been changed, Chandler and Joey pretend they don’t know Eddie and they act as though Joey never left.

So Killian had something similar in mind. Liam showed up at his apartment and went into the roommate’s bedroom. Together, they gathered his things and started moving them to the front lawn. When the roommate returned later that day, the locks had been changed and Killian opened the door after he heard the incessant pounding and pretended he didn’t remember having another roommate besides his brother. When the guy refused to leave, Liam stood at the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and his intimidating height and size compared to the scrawny, short lad who stood in the hallway, finally left with his tail between his legs.

When Liam went back to his and his girlfriend’s flat that night, he walked in on her while she was banging some other guy in the bed they shared. Not wanting to be reminded of what he’d witnessed when he slept in his bed every night, he’s the one who left and never came back. Liam and Killian have lived together in this flat ever since then. And they never heard from Killian’s old roommate ever again.

So, why should Killian be the one to leave?

Then again, if he stays, his feelings for Emma might become even more difficult to shake off.

Right, like he could shake them off. If he could, then he would’ve done that long ago.

~*~

“Killian, can I talk to you for a moment?” Liam asks the next day when he steps into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. It’s Saturday, so neither of them is working, and Emma is out shopping with her sister-in-law.

Killian’s carrying a mug of freshly brewed coffee as he leaves the kitchen, catching the serious expression on his brother's face and in his tone. He's a bit nervous if he’s being honest, certain Liam’s going to chew him out for shutting off Emma’s shower yesterday. Killian was out the door before Liam could say anything to his face about it. He supposes he deserves the lecture, though; he was kind of an arsehole to her. Okay, he was a huge arsehole. But she was being so loud. And yes, she has the voice of an angel, but it doesn't give her the right to wake up the entire apartment building. Prepared for an arse chewing, Killian raises his free hand in surrender. “I promise I didn’t see anything. I was only trying to get her to stop singing—”

Liam shakes his head before Killian can finish, and drags a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. “That’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh. Okay, what is it then?” Killian asks, noticing how nervous Liam appears to be.

Liam motions to the living room, so they both head to the sofa and take a seat. He draws in a shaky breath and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a velvet box.

Killian’s eyes widen in horror as he stares at the object.

No, please tell me that’s not what I think it is. Please, Liam. Don’t make it so.

Killian gulps thickly, unable to remove his eyes from the box. He’s never prayed for anything in his entire twenty-three years of living on this earth, but right now he’s praying that whatever’s in that box is not a diamond ring.

But judging by the smile cracking Liam’s lips, he already knows the words on his tongue before he speaks them. “I’m asking Emma to be my wife.”

Heart meet dagger.

Killian feels like the wind has just been knocked out of him, all of the air in the room suddenly gone.

Liam cracks open the box, showing Killian the ring. It’s a princess cut diamond with a white-gold band. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

Liam’s waiting for some sort of approval, but all Killian can do is stare at the ring and feel a stab of jealousy. He knows he should be happy and supportive, but he still can’t help but want Emma to be his and not his brother’s. He knows Liam deserves a woman like Emma, though, and she deserves someone like Liam. He’s a good man, and if Killian were forced to pick someone besides himself, he’d pick Liam every time. And if he had to pick someone for Liam, there's no doubt he’d pick her. But that doesn’t make this any less easy.

Killian clears the frog from his throat. “It’s stunning,” he says with a smile, trying to keep his tone even. “It’s stunning, just like Emma.”

“That’s exactly what I think too, little brother.” He blows out a wobbly breath. “I’m so bloody nervous about asking her to marry me. We’ve only been together for a year. Well, almost a year, but I know she’s the one for me, Killian. I know it deep in my bones. I’ve known since the night I met her.”

Killian wants to say he knows the feeling.

How is it even possible he and Liam felt the exact same way about the exact same woman that exact same night?

She made her choice though, regardless of the chemistry between her and Killian.

He also knows how Liam feels because, apart from that first week he and Emma were together, he hasn’t exactly kept Killian out of the loop. So Killian’s known every goddamn step of the way how Liam has felt about her. “How will you ask her?”

“Well . . .” Liam runs his hand through his hair nervously and stares off into space, as though he’s playing the scenario in his head. “For our one-year anniversary, I want to have a picnic on the lake where we went on our first date. Which reminds me . . .” Liam looks at Killian, appearing a bit skittish about something, “I wanted to ask you if I can borrow your motorcycle.”

Killian furrows his brows. “But you hate my bike. When I first got it, you kept telling me how dangerous it was, and when I taught you how to ride it, you said you never wanted to be on it again.”

“I know… but I want this proposal to be special, and I always catch Emma staring at your bike whenever we’re getting into my car.”

“You do?”

“Aye. And she’s mentioned she’s never ridden a motorcycle before, so I wanted her to have that experience. I want to do something with her she might enjoy before I pop the big question, you know? So she doesn’t think I’ll be one of those vanilla husbands who doesn’t know how to have fun.”

Killian’s heart clenches. How many times has he dreamt about taking Emma for a ride on his motorcycle? How many times has he dreamt of having her arms wrapped around him, holding him tight as they rode his bike?

“Then after we eat and have some wine, we’ll walk along the beach, and when the moment feels right, I’ll get down on one knee.”

Killian swallows hard. The scenario Liam is painting sounds absolutely perfect, and he knows Emma will love it. He knows Emma’s not a grand gesture type of lass, and what Liam has planned is the perfect combination of grand and simple.

“So, what do you say, can I use it?”

When Killian witnesses the spark in Liam’s eyes, he can’t help but say, “Of course. You can use it for as long as you’d like.”

“Thank you, Killian,” he says appreciatively, clasping his hands together as he leans forward and perches his elbows on his knees. “I also have another favor to ask of you.”

Killian quirks a brow as he sets his mug on the coffee table. “I’m afraid to ask.” He laughs, but he actually is afraid to ask.

Liam chuckles. “Relax, I only wanted to ask if you’d be my best man. You’re not only my brother . . .” his face grows serious as he looks Killian dead in the eyes, “you’re my best friend, and I couldn’t imagine anyone else standing up there beside me as I marry the woman of my dreams. I imagine it’ll take a while to plan the wedding, and the earliest it would be is next year, but—”

“I’d be honored,” Killian cuts him off, swallowing hard. It feels like Liam just drove the dagger deeper into his chest.

As honored as he is for Liam to ask him to be his best man, he can’t stand at the altar and watch the woman of his dreams marry his brother. He just can’t. But he can’t possibly tell Liam that.

A big grin overtakes Liam’s face as he pulls Killian in for a big hug.

“I’m happy for you,” Killian expresses hoarsely, trying to ignore how crushed he feels. “You deserve it, brother,” he says genuinely.

“Thank you, Killian. That means a lot,” Liam says as they break the hug. “Now just hope I can grow some balls to get down on one knee, and pray she says yes.”

“She’ll say yes, I know she will, Liam,” he says sincerely, patting his brother on the shoulder. He knows deep down Liam and Emma are perfect for each other, no matter how much he wants to deny it.

“You really think so?” Liam is asking hopefully.

And right now, Killian can’t help but smile. If Liam were proposing to any other woman, Killian would be so bloody happy for him. So he shoves away the fact that it’s Emma they’re talking about so he can just be there for his brother like Liam needs him to be. “Aye. There is no one more perfect for you than her.”

Liam grins from ear to ear. “At least we can agree on one thing,” he chuckles. “I love her so bloody much.” His face suddenly clouds with something Killian can’t quite put his finger on, and once again, Liam appears to be nervous. “That brings me to the final thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Okay,” Killian gulps. He has a bad feeling about what the next thing might be, though it can’t possibly be worse than telling him he’s proposing to the same woman Killian’s completely in love with or asking Killian to stand beside Liam as he watches Emma marry someone else.

“I need you to be nice to Emma,” he says in a condemning tone. “She thinks you hate her.”

Guilt clenches Killian’s heart, and as much as he knows he should be nice to the woman who will be Liam’s future wife, he knows agreeing to be nice to Emma is like agreeing to jump into quicksand.

For the past year, Killian’s had to pretend to hate Emma because he knows if he and Emma end up becoming friends, then he’ll be tempted to act on his feelings for her, and he can’t let that happen. He can’t do that to Liam. So, there’s only one other option.

Killian has to move out, and he needs to move out soon. Until that happens, he has to throw on a smile and pretend everything is hunky-dory. “I don’t hate her,” he manages, trying to shove all of his emotions down his throat.

“Good, then act like it. If she says yes when I propose, she’ll be your sister-in-law soon, so get used to that idea.”

Killian tears his gaze from Liam, unable to look at his brother right now. He feels like his ears are bleeding. Like his heart is bleeding. Liam has no idea how much his words just gutted him. He could never get used to being Emma’s . . .

No, he can’t even think about the idea. He could never consider Emma as his sister-in-law, and there’s no way he could ever be a brother figure to her. There’s just no bloody way. He’s wanked off while thinking about her for crying out fucking loud.

“You don’t have to worry, I promise I’ll be nicer to Emma.” Even as Killian makes the promise, he can feel himself being pulled in by the quicksand.

“Thank you, Killian.”

When they stand, Killian tells him he’s going to the gym. He needs to relieve some of the pain bubbling inside his chest and figure out how the bloody hell he’s going to win this internal battle inside him, or if he ever will. He should have seen this coming though. He knows Liam has been serious about Emma from the beginning.

He changes into his gym clothes, and once the cool breeze hits his face, once Liam is no longer near him, he can finally breathe, but even then, the surrounding air feels paper-thin. He’s barely able to suck in enough oxygen to make his heart not feel so heavy.

He puts on his helmet and hops on his bike, driving out of the parking lot and trying to figure out how the bloody hell to get out of this predicament.

As much as he loves Liam, he can’t fucking do this. Any of it. He can’t be Liam’s best man, he can’t give a best man speech and tell everyone how bloody happy he is for the bride and groom while he’ll actually be dying inside. He can’t live with them for one more bloody second, and he sure as hell can’t be her brother-in-law.

Which leaves Killian with only one choice.

He needs to get out of Storybrooke. And he needs to get out soon.

Tagging people who have shown interest. Let me know if you would like to be added or if I missed you. @itsfabianadocarmo @resident-of-storybrooke @snowbellewells @onceuponaprincessworld @viajandosinalas @teamhook @captainswan-shipper88 @jamif @katielovesstarcrossedlovers @uhthreeyuh @lfh1226-linda @babyyouremyqueen @sthonour @julesep3026 @fairytalewhispersinmyheart @andiirivera @wefoundloveunderthelight @wickedsw4n @eleveneitherway @eherron14 @ouatpost @transparentclodsludgeweasel @stahlop

#jewelled swan #captain swan #js ff #through the rising tide #my fic #cs ff

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elysiashelby · 4 years

Text

In Another World - T. Shelby Imagine Ch. 5

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 5, 835

WARNINGS: Cursing

Summary: Aliena Welsh has been living in the universe of the show Peaky Blinders for a year, and the time has come for the show to start. But how will this affect her and Thomas’ relationship?

MASTERLIST CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5.2

A/N: So, there was supposed to be chapters before this one, but because I have such a hard time writing Aliena’s character into the show, I decided that those extra chapter will come after I finish S1! The first line break will indicate spoilers for those chapters, so skip to the second one, if you want to avoid reading what’s gonna happen.

“Tommy! Tommy!” A man yelled from outside.

I was jolted from me sleep, and me body sprang forward. I wasn’t the only one who had this reaction. Tommy ‘n I both sprang up. We looked at each for a second before he leaned over me body and looked out the window.

Tommy let out a little sigh of relief. “It’s just Curly.” He yanked the blankets off of himself.

Meanwhile, I was busy rubbing the sleep out of me eyes. “Why would he be here at night? Did you get a new horse, Tom?”

He was busy getting his work pants on. “No. It should be about a delivery that was supposed to come in.”

Me ears perked up. “A delivery?” I leaned closer to him, practically leaning over his shoulder.

Tommy was putting on his shoes. “Yeah. I made a deal with a guy in London. Wanted motorcycles.”

I widened me eyes in shock.

‘The show is beginning…’

Just as Tommy was rising to his feet, I grabbed his arm.

His eyebrows furrowed then his hand stroked me face. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

I kept looking side to side. I was trying to come up with a proper excuse. I was brought out of me trance when Tommy placed down his other hand on me face and tugged me to look at him.

“Oi, Ali! What’s wrong?”

I huffed, closing me eyes shut before opening them. “Guns.” I said with a shrug. “Guns not motorcycles.”

Tommy blinked his eyes a bunch of times before he shook his head with a dismissive scoff. “No, Aliena, it’s a shipment of motorcycles. Go back to sleep. I’ll be back.”

I rolled me eyes, shoving off his lingering hand on me face. I hummed. “Yeah, you’ll see. If you wanna talk ‘bout it when you come back, just wake me up. I don’t mind.” I turned 'round and laid back down.

“Right...” The bed springs sang as he stood up. I heard the door close rather than saw it. It took some time, but I went back to sleep.

“Aliena, wake up! Wake up, right now!” Tommy yelled as he shook me. He held me up by me arms.

Me eyes were squinted as I was trying to find the strength to open them. “Wha?”

“How did you-? No…” He muttered something before he began to speak again, “What’s a TV show? Explain to me how you knew about the guns.”

I chuckled with a smile on me face. I couldn’t help it. “Can you think about letting me go first? You’re soaking wet, by the way.” He let me go but the crazed look on his face never went away.

“Explain.”

I nodded. I started to climb out of the bed. “A TV show is like a series of movie pictures.” I stood on me feet, reached up, and carefully took off his cap. Tommy was just staring down at me.

“Except they’re shorter and meant to tell the same story in this case, at least.” I slipped off his drenched coat, never looking away from his gaze.

“A TV show has episodes and sometimes if it’s successful, or they were highly popular- they would have a season. A season or sometimes called a series, they both mean a collection of episodes.” I turned around and went to hang his coat on a chair.

“So, you’re telling me that me and my family had something like that. In what, your world?” He scoffed to himself. A hand raised to his mouth, going over his bottom lip.

I turned back to him. I knew I had a grave look on me face. I tried to look stern as I replied. “Yes.”

He shook his head while pursing his lips. “No.” He muttered.

I sighed, looking down at me hands while trying to pick out the non-existent dirt from under them. “Try not to think of it like that.” I rushed to him and cradled his face in me hands. “Think of me as Gypsy kin like you said. I can see into the future, that’s all. I have dreams. I hear spirits.”

Tommy chucked humorlessly and looked up while his tongue poked out to quickly lick his bottom lip. He tsked as he brought his head back down while nodding. “Right.”

“I don’t know what else to say.” I laughed nervously while looking away. I never took me hands from his face.

Tommy sniffed before saying. “We keep this between us. You can’t tell anyone else. They’ll lose their minds, or think you’ve lost yours. I have questions. Can you answer them?”

I, finally, put me arms down. I shrugged. “Don’t know. It would depend. But you can give it a shot.”

Tommy sat down, so I scurried to do the same.

“The guns that just came. Would I be-! No. … Is it safe to keep them?” He asked.

I furrowed me eyebrows as I scoffed. “Tommy, it’s common sense that it’s not safe to keep ‘em.”

He sighed. “Not like that. Would it be a stepping stone to the family business?”

I thought about it. “Yes.” I jumped as I had a thought. “I got it. I’m not giving you any details, so form your questions into ones that can be answered by ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

Tommy leaned forward, spread out his knees a bit, then rested his elbows on his knees while his hands held up his head.

There was silence for a while. I managed to keep sane as I fiddled with me hands. Tried cracking them all.

Tommy cleared his throat. “Very soon, I’m going to take a horse down to Garrison courts. There’s a rumor that a Chinese girl there is a witch. I’m gonna pay her to do the powder trick. Does it pay off?”

I whispered. “Yes.”

Without any warning, he stood up and walked to the door. Before he left, he said. “Go on back to sleep.” He closed the door behind him.

I was staring at the door long after he was gone. The room was oddly colder than before. I ran out of Tommy’s room and went into me own. I didn’t go back to sleep. I just drew until it was time for me to go to work.

It’s been a year since I magically appeared in the universe of Peaky Blinders. It’s been a wild ride. Me birthday here was celebrated with the Shelby’s and me girlfriends. Polly got me paints and pencils for me drawings. Ada’s present had to be given to me at night since it was lingerie. She said it was because I would have a fella of me own anytime now.

‘Yeah, right!’

Arthur was so sweet and bought me canvases. Only to find out it was because John had bought me paints, who was beaten to the punch by Polly. They told me after that they planned on giving me two pound each if I didn’t like the present.

I had to get me present from Tommy the day after me birthday. He walked with me a little ways out of Small Heath, where there was a lone tree in a field. I could see it now. I remember clasping me hands over me mouth. Me tears wasting no time to flow down me face. I ran to it and started tracing the lettering engraved into headstone that was there under it.

I talked about it in passing. I never expected for him to get it done for me. I told him that I wanted a headstone for me ma’. I would never see her again, so I wanted somewhere where I could grieve me loss. He gave me that. I sobbed into his arms so much that day.

It sucked going over to the Ritz after that. I was supposed to still be having fun which I was, but me eyes stung. Angelica gifted me expensive dresses she thought I would like, and I did. Christiana gave me hair accessories which I appreciated. Cassie gave me a pearl necklace. I cried again. It was me da’s birthstone. It was like I got them back for a day.

Despite me joy for having a place for me ma’ and carrying a piece of me da’ around, I think it made me depression worse. After all, me ma’s birthday was in February. The guns were found a week before me ma’s birthday.

On that day, I had Freddie drive me to Blackpool beach. I had me a good ‘ol breakdown at there, then I went back home. I didn’t explain it to Freddie, but I think he understood. He must have known that I was grieving.

I locked meself in me room and got bladdered. I stole a bottle of whiskey and almost drank it all. I should have known that Tommy would catch me. He decided to babysit me, and made sure I scarfed down some bread and drank water before I went to sleep. I made him talk to me, though. I made him talk to me ‘til I fell asleep.

Work was hell the next day. I wasn’t hungover, but I had a good headache. Had a cob on the whole day, but I had to keep a lid on it. It’s hard dealing with people who control your salary the whole day ‘cause if ya piss them off— they can easily dock your pay.

Mrs. Davies down at the bakery and Mrs. Aitken down at the flower shop loved pinching me cheeks. It was nice at first, but then they started fucking doing it harder and harder every time I came in.

Anyway, the first season starts today since Tommy told me in the morning that he’s taking Monaghan Boy down to Garrison courts.

‘Let me tell you, I am not happy that I’m gonna have to deal with Grace fucking Burgess. I do not want to see Thomas Shelby fall in love! In front of me face! It’s torture! As if I’m not already depressed. I have enough baggage all on me own, sir!’

I stopped sweeping the floor and pinched the bridge of me nose. This is how fucking gutted I am! I exhaled slowly before I decided to stop worrying ‘bout the inevitable and focus on me work.

“Finn?” That was Tommy.

Me mind instantly connected the dots and I ran to the parlor. I got there just in time as he picked up Finn’s discarded ciggie.

“Finn Shelby, what in the ‘ell are you doing smoking? Stop smirking, Tom. Arthur wants you.” I took the ciggie out of hand and pushed him aside.

“Sorry, bud. You’re on your own.” Tommy lightly brushed the back of his cap on Finn’s face as he left.

Finn looked up at me. I shook me head. I crouched down to meet his gaze.

“What have I told you abar these horrid things? Huh, Finn! Just ‘cause your brothers smoke doesn’t mean you hafta.” I stubbed out the ciggie and left it in the dish.

“But it’s no fun being the only one who doesn’t do it. They don’t have anyone yelling at them.” He said with a pout.

I huffed, feeling annoyed. “That’s not true. I nag Tommy all the time.” I crossed me arms.

“Liar! I’ve never seen it!”

“Yeah ‘cause then he wouldn’t be able to face ya, so I have to scold him in secret. So, don’t tell ‘em I told you about it.” I ran me hand over his hair, smoothing it out. “I catch you with one of these again ‘n I’ll smack you upside the head. I promise.”

“No, you won’t.”

“I bloody will!”

Suddenly, there was a shout that caught our attention and I flew to me feet.

“I'm calling a family council tonight at 8:00. I want all of us there. You hear me? There's trouble coming.” Arthur yelled as Tommy stormed off.

Arthur and I made eye contact ‘n we just nodded at each other. I walked around the table and shut the door to the betting shop. I dusted off me hands then turned me attention back to Finn.

“Go on then, la. It’s your free day.” I walked back into the living room where I had to finish sweeping.

Finn followed after me. He sat in one of the two chairs.

“Aliena,” He said. “when I grow older, you’ll be my wife, right?”

I froze at the question, or was it a statement? I giggled.

‘Does little Finn have a crush on me?’

I stopped laughing and asked. “What are you on abar, Finn?”

“I don’t know. I figured that when I grow up, you’ll marry me.”

I began to giggle again. “Finn Shelby, you won’t even propose to me. Just expect it of me, eh? Well, I’ll make you a deal. If I’m still single by the time I’m 30, I’ll marry you.”

Finn jumped off the chair and rushed over to me. I had to crouch again to meet his eyes.

“You promised, Ali! You can’t take it back!” His smile was so big and adorable. It made me heart melt.

‘I can’t believe that me first love confession is from a 10 almost 11 year old. Just me luck!’

“Now you take me promises seriously, huh? Yes, I promise. Now, run along. I still need to work out some errands, and I can’t have you bugging me.” I shoved him toward the door, and I didn’t pay attention to where he ran off to.

True to me word, I got done with the sweeping then went on to finish me errands. Mrs. Davies’ pinch was slightly less harder than Mrs. Aitken’s today, and thank the Lord for it!

‘I swear one of these days these ladies are gonna leave me with bruises!’

I had to run to the house ‘cause Mrs. Davies was chatting me up for so long. When I got there, Polly and John were walking in at the same time. They noticed me.

“Aliena, how come you aren’t in the house already?” Polly asked me.

I had to run a few more steps before I was caught up with them. “Mrs. Davies was chatting me up again. Wouldn’t let me leave ‘til I finally made up an excuse.” I was clutching me side since it had cramped up a little.

‘I’m getting better at running. Which is good since I’m, well, maybe used to be an asthmatic. I don’t even need glasses to see far away anymore!’

“Well, shit. Looks like when the meetings over, we’ll have to fucking hussle to make dinner.”

John opened the door for us and we walked in first. We walked into the betting room where Finn was standing by the door of.

Polly and I walked on ahead.

John said to Finn, “Sorry, little man. Maybe when you’re older.”

Arthur clapped his hands before shouting. “You’re all late. Why the-!”

“Yeah and we’re here now. Let’s get on with it.” Polly interrupted while taking off her coat and taking a seat.

John took a seat and I leaned on a beam next to him. Me eyes naturally drifted over to Tommy’s direction. He had a ciggie burning.

‘I swear this man! Well, baby steps.’

I’m fucking tellin’ a blag to meself, but at least I got him off the opium. He’s not drinking or smoking any less, though.

‘I’ll give him one year. On December 3rd when the season is over, I’ll get to him. By all that’s holy, I’ll be bugging him abar his smoking!’

I think he felt me glare ‘cause he looked straight at me. I knew I was caught, but I wasn’t flustered. I glared at the ciggie by his side then back up at him.

The little fucker just smirked and raised it to his lips.

I rolled me eyes and looked to Arthur who was about to start the meeting.

“Right! I've called this family meeting because I've got some very important news. Scudboat and Lovelock got back from Belfast last night. They were buying a stallion to cover their mares. They were in a pub on the Shankhill Road yesterday, and in that pub there was a copper. Handing out these.” Arthur said as he passed one to Ada then the rest of the pile to Lovelock.

Ada passed it onto John who read it aloud. “If you're over five feet and can fight, come to Birmingham." John passed it to Polly.

“They're recruiting Protestant Irishmen to come over here as Specials.” Arthur told us.

“To do what?” Ada asked.

“To clean up the city, Ada.” Tommy answered. “He's a Chief Inspector. The last four years, he's been clearing the IRA out of Belfast.”

I bit me lip as I knew that the tension in ‘ere would start to rise.

Arthur asked, quite agitated- might I add. “How do you know so bloody much?”

“'Cause I asked the coppers on our payroll.”

“And why didn't you tell me?”

“I'm telling you.”

Arthur took a swing out of his flask. I’m not equipped to handle stressful environments within friendly prescenes. So, I was making dumb faces in the corner. Like meme worthy faces. I literally did a tight lipped smile, that “white people” meme smile. I sported that smile with me eyebrows raised while widening me eyes, and looking away to the corner where no one stood.

“So, why are they sending him to Birmingham?” Polly asked with a magnifying glass in her hand.

“Well, there's been all these bloody strikes at the BSA. And the Austin works, lately. Now the papers are talking about sedition. And revolution. I reckon it's communists he's after.” Tommy said.

But I noticed that when he said the comment about the communists, it got a reaction out of Ada.

“So this copper's gonna leave us alone, right?”

“There are Irishmen in Green Lanes who left Belfast to get away from him. They say Catholic men who crossed him used to disappear in the night.”

“Yeah, but we ain't IRA.” John said. The attention turning on him. “We bloody fought for the King. Anyway, we're Peaky Blinders. We're not scared of coppers.”

“He’s right.” Arthur said.

Then, John delivered that famous line. “If they come for us, we'll cut them a smile each.”

Let me just say, I had to hide me smirk. It was crazy how I felt pride when he said that.

“So, Arthur. Is that it?” Thomas asked. He looked unimpressed.

“What do you think, Aunt Pol?” Arthur completely dismissed Tommy.

Polly looked over at Thomas. I knew she knew that Tommy was up to something. I just hoped she never suspected I knew anything abar it too.

“This family does everything open. You've nothing more to say to this meeting, Thomas?”

“No. Nothing that's women's business.”

“This whole bloody enterprise was women's business while you boys were away at war. What's changed?”

“We came back.”

Polly said or did anything after that. I was expecting a judgemental hum, at least!

“Right! This concludes the family meeting!” Arthur announced.

Polly stood straight up, her chair scraping the wood floor. “Come on, Aliena. We need to hurry up with dinner.”

I followed her into the kitchen.

After dinner, I noticed that Polly had pulled Tommy aside as I was taking everyone’s dirty dishes to be washed. Not a minute later, Tommy came up to me.

He cleared his throat, his hand reaching for a ciggie.

“Reach for it now and I may just throw this cuppa water at you.” I said with a teasing smile.

“Don’t know why. You know I’ll smoke it the minute I’ll leave your sight.”

I blew raspberries at him.

“Well, Polly asked me to join her in church. So, it’s best if you sleep in your room tonight. I’ll probably be working ‘til late morning anyway. Okay?” He was looking at me with such expecting eyes. I noticed that he always wanted a definitive answer from me, hardly ever accepting me nods.

“Yeah. Got it.”

“Good.” The second our conversation was over, he reached for a ciggie again. I paid it no mind this time and focused on getting the dishes done.

The next morning, I got up abar an hour earlier. I was almost tempted to go back to sleep, but instead I crawled out of bed and took out the suitcase that hid under me bed. I unlocked the one that had an assortment of items, and took out me locked diary.

I still don’t know why I was given a suitcase full of miscellaneous item, but I knew they would come in handy someday.

When I first came here and I couldn’t sleep, I took the liberty of writing out what I could remember from each episode. I knew it would benefit me!

I wrote, ‘After Thomas and Polly talk, the scene shifts to Grace coming into town. She gets the job. Then, Arthur gets captured by Campbell and gets roughed up badly. Tommy goes to the Garrison where he meets Grace. He comes back to the house and-’

Simultaneously, I shut me eyes and shut the book. I heaved a big sigh.

‘Tommy will meet Grace today. “Are you a whore?” The gobshite! He’ll probably start distancing himself from me.’

I sighed again. When I gathered me pride, I got up and decided to have an early start on the day. I won’t allow Thomas Shelby to write me off from his life like that.

‘I don’t care if the little fucker sees me like a little sister. I’d still be special to him and that’s all that counts. He stands between me and the whorehouse, in me opinion.’

I did me hair in a bun, as always, but I choose a maroon button-up shirt and a green midi length skirt. Look, the skirt came to about the middle of me legs, alright? Then, I made breakfast. Polly wasn’t up yet which was absolutely weird for me! I didn’t know if she was out doing something, or something.

When I was done eating, I got me coat ‘n headed out the door. Men greeted me and moved out of me way like always. When I got to John’s door, I was troubled. The kids weren’t used to seeing me this early neither was John. I didn’t want to exactly intrude, but I also wanted to get some stuff out of the way, so I could see the scene where Arthur comes home after he gets beat up.

So with that in mind, I unlocked the door to John’s flat. I immediately started cooking breakfast. When seven rolled ‘round, footsteps came pattering down. A head peaked from ‘round the corner and it was Katie.

“Ailena?” She asked. “Why are you here so early?”

I smiled at her. “I just missed youse. That’s all.”

She scoffed with a smile. “It’s only been a day.” She took a seat.

I got up from the chair I was sitting on ‘n poured her some juice. “A day can feel like an eternity.”

We had some time to talk before John came down. He was definitely surprised, but happily took the breakfast I made him and left to the shop. Once he left, I went to get the other kids up. I had them all dressed and “in school” by 9 am.

They moaned and groaned abar having to be taught by me, but they would learn it’s for their own benefit in the future. By the way, the only one who was civil was Katie and John Jr.. But that was because I just read ‘em books— so he had nothing to fuss abar. When it hit 10:30, I said me goodbyes and told them to stay safe.

I rushed back home where I found Finn smoking. I kept me promise and smacked him upside the head. Told ‘em it was time for school ‘n he ran off to get his stuff. He was getting better. Already getting closer to reading in his grade level.

See ever since I took up the job to be their teacher, I’ve gone to sleep later. It was around 3 in the morning when I was by meself and 12 when Tommy decided he needed sleep. Any other time I would have to hassle him to sleep. His sleep schedule was a mess, but no matter what- he always got up at 5:30 or 6. 5:30 is with sleep while the latter is without.

When I was by meself, I would stay up making the lessons.

It would be critical thinking problems that you’d get back in the 2000s. Stuff that I was asked. For math, it ranged from each kid. Katie was on percentages and long division, Ilsa and Finn were on multiplication and division and the adding and subtracting of long numbers, while Robbie was barely learning how to add and subtract. John Jr. was learning how to count to 100.

It was almost 12 when Arthur pounded at the front door. I had abandoned Finn and ran to tell Tommy, who was in his office in the shop.

I opened the door without knocking which caused him to look up at me.

“It’s Arthur.” I said, almost breathless.

His eyes widened and he instantly got up and rushed past me. I followed after him. We both went to the parlor where Polly was looking after him, working on wrapping up his hand. Tommy took one look at his face then ran out.

‘Grace.’ I thought.

“Ali, heat up a kettle of water, will you?” Ada told me.

I nodded. I went into the kitchen, filled the kettle with water, and heated it up.

“Here ya go, Ada.” I said once it was done.

She took it and set it aside while I walked over to John who was leaning on the doorway. I took on the left since he was on the right.

“John, wipe the blood out of his eye.”

“Since when did you give orders?”

“I'm a trained nurse.”

John and I both had these smirks on our faces while Arthur scoffed.

“Don't make me laugh.” Arthur said. “It hurts me face.”

“I bloody am.”

“You went to one first aid class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling.” John said.

“Not before I learned how to stop somebody from choking.”

“I'm not bloody choking, am I?” Arthur said.

“You will be when I wrap this cloth ‘round your neck.” Ada said while pouring the water into a pan. The door opened and in walked Tommy with a bottle of rum.

I couldn’t stop the chuckle that came from me throat. John and I looked at each other, still having similar smiles.

“Let me see him.” He walked ‘round to Arthur with a ciggie hanging from his lips. He inspected his face before giving ‘em the bottle of alcohol. “All right, have this.”

Arthur took one swing before putting it back down with a groan. Tommy wrang the cloth of its excess water. “Give me that.” He said, pouring some of the bottle into the cloth before pressing it against Arthur’s face.

He inhaled sharply in pain.

“You’re all right.” Tommy said, trying to soothe him. Both of his hands cradling his brother’s face.

But Arthur clasped his hand around one of Tommy’s arms. “He said Mr Churchill sent him to Birmingham. National interest, he said. Something about a robbery.”

Tommy backed away from him. Almost visibly upset, if you knew how to read him. I didn’t miss the pointed stare Polly gave ‘em either.

“He said he wants us to help him.”

John interrupted. “We don’t help coppers.”

“He knew all about our war records. He said we're patriots. Like him.”

I scoffed to meself since I knew the truth. ‘Fucking bastard! Didn’t even fight in the war.’

“Wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said-!” Then, he groaned in pain. Polly sh-ing him up as she bandaged his hands. “I said we'd have a family meeting, take a vote.”

Tommy said nothing. Just kept staring off. Now that the show was starting, it was so much easier to read him. It was obvious to me that he was rattled, but I’m sure to the rest of the family it looked like he couldn’t have been bothered.

“Well, why not? Hmm? We've no truck with Fenians or communists.”

Tommy kept his mouth shut again. He was looking over at Polly and then at me. He exhaled audibly before Arthur started up again.

“What's wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with him lately?” He turned to Polly.

She said. “If I knew, I'd buy the cure from Compton's chemists. Ali, come help me clean his face up.”

I stood straight. Tommy and I shared a glance before I looked away and took the cloth that had been discarded onto the table into me hands. I barely touched his face with it and he fuckin’ hissed.

It was the dead of night. I was busy correcting past homework that I had given to the kids. I was on Finn’s math when I heard Tommy’s door open and then close. If I remember correctly, he was supposed to use his pipe to go to sleep tonight.

That worry alone motivated me enough to finish up Finn’s paper faster.

‘The bastard is stubborn. No, all men of this age doesn’t like asking for help. Especially the help of a woman.’

I exhaled with puffed cheeks as I marked Finn’s last problem. I hurried out of me chair and to Tommy’s room. Me robe whipped around me. When I opened the door, he had a fire lit and was rolling out his pipe.

He looked at me. No emotion shown. I was mad. I was-!

‘I didn’t think as I marched up to him. I didn’t slap him, but I slammed me hand down on the light he had lit.’

No, that was just an intrusive thought. I really wanted to do it, though.

I walked up the light and blew it out. “You’re not doing this. You have me.”

“I did this because I don’t want you.” Despite saying that, he rerolled up his pipe and set it down on the nightstand.

“I outta break that thing, you know. Just chuck it into the fire downstairs.”

He whipped his head up at me and he glared.

It made me shiver and not in a good way. Reflexively, I glared back. “Don’t try intimidating me, Thomas. Not tonight. You want to sleep. Let’s do it my way as agreed. Because you have fallen asleep my way and you were the one who set up-!”

“Yeah! Okay, I got it.” Very childishly, he laid down with his arms crossed above his eyes.

I sighed. ‘I should probably ask him about the shovels. If he still hears them with me.’

So, I did.

“Tommy, do you still hear the shovels? Even when I’m here… with you?”

He stiffened. Then, he dropped his arms. He looked up at the ceiling with his jaw clenched. He tsked, closing his eyes. “No. I don’t hear them.”

“Do you still dream abar them?” Me throat burned as did me face.

“Yes. But not as often anymore.” His tone was so sad.

“Then, why were you-?”

“Because. I shouldn’t be relying on you, a girl who’s not my family, to get me sleep at night. One day we’ll have to go our separate ways. It’s only right that you find yourself a good man and you can’t sleep with me then, now, can you?” He looked at me. The look on his face was sharp.

‘It’s like he’s breaking up with me.’ I laughed at the thought.

“You don’t have to worry abar that. I’m not gonna find meself a good man anytime soon.”

“You don’t-!”

“I do! So, let it go and let me help you. You’re a good man, Tom. I don’t want to see you suffer. Especially when all you want is to do is get a good night’s rest.” I stopped fiddling with me hands and dropped them to me sides.

‘He wouldn’t know that there was a warning lying ‘round me words. That he was gonna be suffering more. Soon, he’d have to orchestrate Danny’s fake death. Then, everything else.’

“Fine.” He said.

I took off me robe, climbed over him, and laid beside him. I bit me lip before deciding to speak. “Lay lower than me. Don’t question it, just do it.”

He sighed and did as I said. I scooted meself up then closer to ‘em. “Lift your head.” He did it and I extended me arm under his neck. “Face me.” He did it. His head near me chest. With me free hand, I brought it up to his face and began to stroke his cheek and run me fingers through his hair.

I whispered things to him like, “You’re safe now,” “You’re home,” “Nothing’s gonna hurt you,” and “It’s okay to fall asleep.”

And he fell asleep. He fell asleep fast. I, on the other hand, didn’t. I was too hyper aware of his body being so close to mine. This was the first time I’ve ever held a person of the opposite sex. It surprised me that this even worked!

But, like I said, I didn’t fall asleep fast like he did and sometime during the night, his breathing quickened and his hold on me tightened, by a lot. I figured he was ‘aving the dream abar the tunnels, so I started soothing him again. It took ‘em awhile, but he calmed back down. I couldn’t bloody go to sleep after that, so it took me abar another 30 minutes before I fell asleep.

The next day was calm, nothing noteworthy happened. At night, Tommy told me that I was to head to bed. I asked him why ‘n he said that he was heading to Charlie’s yard. I twitched at the name. I always did when he said that name. After all, it’s me birth name.

The day after that in the midmorning, he ran to me ‘n asked me if his plan to fake Danny’s death would work. I told ‘em yes.

I saw when he came back, visibly disturbed, his head hanging low. I wanted to comfort him but Arthur got to him first. I remembered me place then. I couldn’t comprehend the plot that much. I watched as they had their dispute. I jumped when Tommy closed the book shut and then walked off.

He grabbed me arm before he left ‘n told me I was sleeping by meself t’night too. I nodded and then he left the shop.

That night I watched as the snow fell. Me heart felt as if someone was squeezing it through me chest.

Guess me wish wouldn’t come true, afterall.

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston @nemesis729

#thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #in another world #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine

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msmarvelsmarvel · 4 years

Text

Bad Boy! Ben Hardy: A Fanfic

So after months of radio silence on the status of a Ben Hardy fanfic I promised, here it is!

Based on this beautiful piece of work by the icon @young-and-youre-crazy

Ship: Ben Hardy x Reader (Y/N)

Word Count: 6056

Warnings: SMUT, cursing probably, smoking, drinking

Living with your parents after high school had its perks. You didn’t have to pay rent, and there was always a nice meal on the table, and all your bills were paid for. The downside, however, was that they still acted like you were their little girl. You had just turned twenty and was home from college for the weekend. You didn’t exactly want to come home, but your mom had been asking when you’d be back to visit next and had expressed how much she and your father missed you.

“Honey?” you heard your mom call from downstairs, “Dinner is ready.” You sighed and pushed out from the desk you sat at, laptop open, and made your way downstairs. You landed on the ground floor and made your way towards the dining room, taking the seat you always sat in.

“Why don’t you say grace, dear?” your father asked. You sighed, said the little prayer, then dug into dinner.

“So, how is college life? Meet anyone special lately?” my mom asked. Here we go again, you thought, the questions about when you planned on finding that Mr. Right. It was an endless circle of the same stuff every time you came home.

You swallowed your food, along with whatever venom you wanted to spit, and shook your head, “No, mom, no special guy friends for me. I’m really just focusing on my studies for now,” you told her. Any other parent would be pleased to hear it, but not your mom.

“Well, I’m glad honey, but you know you’re only in your prime for so long and I just don’t want you to look back one day and realized you’ve missed your window to find that right guy to take care of you,” she said, the same thing she always said. You carried on the night playing out the same conversation over and over. You’d counter with the fact that you didn’t need a man, or anyone for that matter, to ‘take care of you’ and your mom would smile and patronizingly tell you that she knew, but she’d feel so much better knowing you had someone to do so anyway. As always, your father would stay quiet as a mouse, offering no help to either side of the conversation.

By Sunday you were more than ready to leave back to campus. You were already on your way back, having left out around ten that morning with an excuse that you remembered you had homework to finish. The ride back, you chewed on your lip and thought about what your mother had said, what she always said, and even though you knew it was bullshit, it still ate away at you.

~~~

Nothing said a good night like a bottle of alcohol and some friends to go out with. Sundays didn’t usually have parties since most people used Sunday to recover from drinking Friday and Saturday, but this was a special occasion; it was some frat guy’s twenty-first birthday. Your friends dragged you out to this party and, even though you protested at first, you were glad they had. It was the most fun you’d had all year, and the night was just getting started.

You needed a breather, so you ascended the basement steps and made your way towards the living room. You found no open spots, so you decided to step outside to the front porch. The chill of the night air hit you instantly, and you thanked the many stars you had made this decision. There were only a few people on the porch, two of which left back inside together after a moment. You leaned against the concrete half-wall of the porch and caught your breath.

“You alright?” you heard a boy to your left ask. You looked over and, at first, only saw the glow of the cherry at the end of a cigarette. As your eyes adjusted and you moved towards him a bit, you noticed more of him. He was clad in a leather jacket, his jawline as sharp as a knife and the blond curls on his head concealed his forehead, “You look a little out of breath is all.” You detected an accent, British if your muddled mind was correct.

“Dancing will do that to ya,” you told him, “Just needed a moment to cool down is all.”

“You smoke?” he asked, offering you his cigarette.

You held up your hand, “Not that I don’t,” you told him, “And not things offered to me by strangers in the dark.”

The man chuckled, “That’s pretty wise,” he said, “But I’m Ben, what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“There, now we aren’t strangers anymore,” he chuckled.

You laughed as well, “Fair enough.” You located the phone that vibrated in your pocket and saw it was a text from your mom. You opened it to see a screenshot of some dating app advertisement and, in your intoxicated state, considered chucking your phone across the lawn in frustration. Instead, you just sighed heavily and locked the phone, sliding it back in your pocket.

“Something troubling you, love?” Ben asked.

You scoffed and folded your arms, leaning against the concrete wall Ben sat on, “My mother is driving me insane,” you confessed.

“Isn’t that what moms do?” Ben countered.

You shook your head, “No, you don’t understand. It’s like she’s stuck in the ’50s. She’s convinced I need to find a man to take care of me; like I’m some sort of child incapable of taking care of myself. If it were up to her, I’d drop out of college and focus solely on dating,” you told him. It felt good to rant, you hadn’t done so to your friends because they had heard the same thing many times before. But here, confessing to this stranger, it felt nice to really get it off your chest, “I just wish I could do something, anything, to get her off my back.”

“So,” Ben said, “You want to piss off your parents is what you’re saying?” he asked.

You sighed, “No…,” you said, “…Yes? I dunno, I just want my mom to treat me like I’m my own capable adult, that I’m all grown up and don’t need someone to take care of me.”

Ben took a drag of his cigarette, “Bring me home,” he offered.

You barked a laughed, “Come again?”

“Take me home to meet them, tell them I’m your boyfriend. They’ll see me and wish you’d never date again,” he explained.

“Why, 'cause you’re some perfect gentlemen or something?” you asked.

“No, I’m the exact opposite. Or, I can be to them,” he said, “I’ve got it all, all the things no parent wants their little girl to date. Tattoos, leather jacket, cigarettes, I even ride a motorcycle. I’m the poster child for bad boys, that’ll get them off your back for a while.”

You looked at Ben, mostly in disbelief that he was even suggesting it, but as your muddled, intoxicated mind thought more on it, the more perfect it seemed, “Let’s do it.”

~~~

The next morning you woke up with a headache, your head pounding as you sat up in your own bed. You hadn’t really remembered getting home, but you did remember drinking shot after shot sometime during the night. Your roommate, the friend you’d gone out with, lay fast asleep in her own bed, but you noticed she had put a water next to you as well as the bottle of pain meds; at least, you assumed it was her because you certainly didn’t remember doing it. You took the meds, drank the whole water bottle, then turned over and fell back asleep.

The next time you woke up was much better. After taking a moment to rub sleep from your eyes, you rolled over and grabbed up your phone. When you unlocked it, it opened to a saved contact that you were sure wasn’t there yesterday; it read ‘Bad Boy Ben’ as the contact name. You raised an eyebrow at it and tried to remember if you had exchanged numbers with anyone last night.

“Hey,” your roommate said as she entered the room, her toothbrush and toothpaste in her hand, “Sleep okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” you said, “Hey, do you remember us meeting a Ben last night?” you asked.

Your friend smiled, “How could you not? He was a total hottie and he seemed pretty interested in you,” she said.

“So the contact name ‘Bad Boy Ben’ is presumably him?” you asked.

She laughed, “Oh yeah, that’s him alright. That was what you called him all night. Pretty sure you even introduced him to other people like that. He just let you, too.”

Just then, your phone dinged and you checked it to see a text from your mom: ‘Did you see the picture I sent last night? Could be a good app to have on your phone!’ you read the text and rolled your eyes. Then it all came back: your conversation with Ben, how he had proposed the idea of bringing him home to mom. You opened your texts and typed up one to Ben: ‘Hey, hoping you remember me. We met last night?’

The response back was almost immediate: ‘How could I forget?’

You found yourself smiling at his words, then typed: ‘Still want to help me?’

‘Well, can’t say I’ve got much better to do so yeah, why not? When do we start?’

You thought for a moment, then replied, ‘What are you doing next Saturday?’

~~~~~

Saturday came sooner than expected and you actually felt a little nervous. You had been texting Ben here and there as the days went by, but you were still just getting to know each other and now you were faced with an hour-long car ride with him. You packed your small bag for the weekend and then sat around your room waiting for the text from Ben that said he was outside; he had insisted on driving and you couldn’t turn down saving gas so you’d agreed. Your phone dinged and you checked it to see that Ben was waiting outside.

You exited the building and saw him immediately. He was parked right outside your dorm building and was leaning against your ride; a motorcycle. That was hardly noticeable, however, now that you really got a good look at Ben. You hadn’t seen him since the party, and when you met it had been mostly dark and you couldn’t make out many details at all. Now, as you approached him, you took it all in. He was clearly a bit older than you, maybe by two or three years, and he had on the same leather jacket as when you met him, and his black skinny jeans and black biker boots matched. His hair was messy, probably from removing the helmet that sat on the front seat of the bike, but it was blonde and curly and you had to stop yourself from picturing your fingers running through it.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” he greeted as you stopped before him. He was just finishing up a cigarette and he crushed the butt under his boot before looking back up at you, “All set?”

“I think you’ve outdone yourself already, Ben,” you told him with a chuckle, “They’ll freak when we pull up on this.”

Ben laughed, “Go big or go home, right, love?”

“I guess so,” you mumbled as you looked over the bike. You hadn’t really ever been on the back of a motorcycle, but you didn’t want to let on that you were all but terrified of them.

“I can take your bag,” Ben said and held out his hand. You handed over the bag and he put it in a little trunk on the back of the bike, then returned to you with a second helmet in hand, “Can’t take off without this.” You nodded and slid the helmet over your head and began fiddling with the strap, “Here,” Ben said, “Let me.” His hands took over the strap of the helmet and you tried your best not to look or feel awkward as he stood so close to you.

When you were all set, Ben set to putting his own helmet on and then mounted the bike. He offered his hand to you and, after a second of hesitation, you took it and let him help you onto the back, “You’re gonna want to hang on tight, sweetheart,” he told you as he started up the bike. You did as he suggested and wrapped your arms around his torso in a decently tight grip as he took off.

It wasn’t nearly as bad as you imagined. In fact, you quite enjoyed it. You had given Ben the address of your parent’s house before you had left, and since he had a mount for his phone on the front it made following the map all the easier. Before you knew it, places you had grown up around began to appear and you knew you were close to home. Ben made the final turn and your house came into view.

“Well,” Ben said as he shut off the bike, “This is exactly the kind of place I pictured you lived.” He offered you his hand and you once again took it to accept help getting off the bike. He followed suit and helped you with the strap of your helmet again, then took off his own.

“I think that’s an insult?” you questioned with a smirk. Your neighborhood was nice, as was the house you grew up and lived in, “Yeah, I feel insulted I think.”

Ben laughed, “Not an insult, just an observation. Now I understand the need to piss off your folks,” he told you.

“Okay, so in advance, I’m gonna apologize because I’m sure I’ll need to. They aren’t exactly… good at hiding their disdain for people so-“

Ben held up a hand, “Sweetheart, I’ll be fine. I knew what I was signing up for when I said yes,” he assured you, “Now, how serious do you wanna play this?”

You pondered for a moment, “Screw it, let’s go as serious as believable.”

Ben smiled wide, “Go hard or go home, indeed,” he said approvingly, “I’m afraid I haven’t a ring to give you, though,” he joked.

“Maybe next time,” you joked back as you walked towards the front door. You entered the house and walked towards the living room when you assumed your parents would be, “Mom, Dad, I’m home!” you called as you walked in.

You heard movement and your mom appeared before you quickly. You had told her you had a special someone you wanted her to meet just a few days ago, so she was clearly eager to see who you had brought home. Her wide smile faded quickly as she got a good look at Ben, “Honey,” she said nervously, “Who is this?”

You smiled and leaned into Ben, your hand coming to rest on his chest, “Mom, this is who I told you about. This is Ben, my boyfriend,” you told her. You fought the urge to laugh when her face paled a little; clearly, your plan was working already.

“Oh,” she said, “Oh, lovely,” she fixed her face into a fairly obvious fake smile and extended her hand to Ben, “How do you do, Ben?” she asked.

Ben had his arm slung around your shoulder so his other hand was free, but he placed it in his jacket pocket instead of shaking her hand, “Yeah, I’m alright I s’ppose.”

Your mom looked between you and Ben in disbelief, then turned and made her way towards the living room, “Honey,” she called to your dad. You and Ben followed behind, but not before you threw a wicked grin to Ben and he grinned back in return.

“Dad,” you said as he got up to greet you. His reaction was equal to that of your mom’s, though his face seemed to pale quicker than her’s, “Meet Ben.”

Your dad walked over to the pair of you and gave Ben a long and hard once over. He cleared his throat and offered his hand to Ben, “Good to meet you, son,” your dad said.

Ben once again rejected the hand and shrugged, “Yeah, sure. Hey,” Ben said, “Where’s the toilet, I gotta take a piss.” Now you really fought the urge to laugh, he sure was good at pretending to be an ass and you were just eating it up.

After a moment of initial shock, your mom shut her slightly ajar mouth and pointed towards the downstairs bathroom, “Right over there, first door on your left.”

“Great,” he said and walked off.

Once you heard the door shut, your parents turned to you, “Well he seems… Y/N what on earth are you thinking?” your mom asked.

You played innocent and frowned, “What do you mean, mom? You’re the one that’s been on me about finding a man to take care of me, so I did. Ben’s got plenty of experience with women, he takes good care of me.”

“Don’t you think he’s a bit… old for you?” your dad asked.

You shook your head, “He’s a senior, I’m a sophomore, we’re not that far apart in age.”

“He just…” you mom began, “Where are the manners on that boy?”

“He’s got a thing against parents, it’s nothing personal, mom, I swear,” you told her. You heard the bathroom door and smiled at Ben as he approached you again.

Ben wrapped his arm around your shoulders again, “Miss me?” he asked you in a low voice.

“You know it,” you replied. He smiled at you and made a move you didn’t see coming; he kissed you. It was clearly unexpected, but you weren’t exactly complaining. It was a good kiss, incredible even, and lasted way longer than it should have in front of your parents. When Ben pulled away, you quickly composed yourself and turned back to your parents, a smile on your face and pretended like that was completely normal, “Right, well, I’m gonna show Ben around,” you told your parents. Without a word from them, you turned and led Ben out of the living room and around the house.

Upstairs, you showed him to your room and he set down his things where you instructed. You closed the door and turned to look at him as he finally shrugged off the leather jacket. He draped it across the back of your desk chair and then turned to you, “Was the kiss too far?” he asked, though you could tell he was amused.

You shook your head, “No, just unexpected is all. I think it certainly made a statement,” you told him.

He nodded, “Just lemme know if I’m going too far,” he said and leaned against the desk. He looked around, “So, this is your room, huh? Weird, I expected more… pink… and stuffed animals,” he joked.

You laughed and playfully pushed his shoulder, “Shut up,” you muttered.

Ben crossed his arms and looked at you, “So where exactly would you like me to sleep tonight?”

You frowned in thought, “Well, I think we’ve already crossed past the point of no return, and having you sleep on the couch and me in my room might give them some hope that you’re not entirely bad, so I say you and I sleep here. I can make up something on the floor or whatever if you’d rather be more comfortable not like…” you said, suddenly feeling awkward, “Sharing a bed or whatever.”

Ben pursed his lips, “Well, if me being on the floor is what is comfortable for you than so be it,” he told you.

“I mean,” you said, “I don’t really care either way. The floor isn’t exactly comfortable, and I have a pretty sizeable bed so I mean if you want, not that you have to or anything, but like, if you wanted we could, I don’t know, share the bed?” you stumbled over your words nervously.

“Whatever you wanna do is fine with me, sweetheart,” he told you, “You want me on the floor, that’s fine. You want me to share the bed with you, that’s fine as well.”

“Y/N?” you heard your mom call from downstairs. You turned to look towards the door and then back at Ben before holding up your pointer finger and then exiting the room.

“Yeah, mom?” you asked from the top of the steps.

Your mom stood there at the bottom of the stairs and seemed to sigh in relief, “Dinner will be ready soon,” she said. You nodded and then returned to your room.

“Do you think they thought we were fooling around?” Ben asked with a chuckle.

You laughed, “I’d almost bet my life on it,” you told him.

“We could stomp around, make some loud noises and pretend like we are,” he said with a smirk.

“Maybe later tonight, but I like the way you think,” you replied, “Come on, let's get down there.”

~~~~~

“Goodnight, mom,” you called as you shut the door to your bedroom. You turned to find Ben was in the middle of stripping off his shirt, “Oh, sorry,” you said and quickly turned back around.

You heard Ben chuckle behind you, “It’s alright, just changing into my sweats, love. I can turn round while you change if you like,” he said, “Oh, and you can turn around now.”

You turned to see he was sat on the bed, no shirt on and a pair of sweatpants on. You caught yourself looking too long, so you jumped into action to grab your bag and pull out your sleep clothes, “That’s alright, I have to brush my teeth and stuff anyway so I’ll just change in the bathroom,” you said and quickly exited the room.

When you reentered your room, Ben was lounging on the side of the bed you’d told him you didn’t sleep on, “Ready to really make your parents hate me?” he asked as you approached the bed.

You giggled, “You were serious about that?”

He shrugged, “I don’t see why not. Could be fun.”

You crawled into bed next to Ben and looked at him for a moment, “You’re crazy, you know that?”

He grinned, “Of course I do, but that’s what makes me so charming,” he said cheekily.

You laughed this time, “Oh, is that what it is?”

“Well,” he said and shrugged, “I have other good qualities of course. For example, I’m an excellent listener,” he said, “And I actually have fantastic manners when I’m not pretending to be a total jackass.”

You chuckled, “I thought my mom was gonna faint at dinner. Picking at your plate while my dad was saying grace was an excellent touch.”

It was Ben’s turn to chuckle, “I thought it might be. I’ll admit, I was worried it was a little too risky. I mean, I wasn’t sure if you would get upset with me for that.”

You shook your head, “Not at all. Not really religious like my folks.”

You two fell into silence for a moment, awkwardly looking at each other and then quickly looking away. “So,” you said, “Ready to freak out my parents once and for all?”

“You’re really sure about this? I mean, I’m one hundred percent on board but it’s a pretty big statement, ya know?”

You looked at him in thought, your lips pursed and said, “I’ve been getting the same speech my whole life basically. I practically grew up hearing that I needed a nice man to take care of me, that I shouldn’t solely depend on myself and whatnot. For once, I’d really like to stick it to them, ya know? So I think a big statement is exactly what we need.”

Ben nodded, “Then let's get to it.” You both smirked and stood up in the bed and began to gradually bounce in the bed. You smiled at Ben as the bed began to squeak.

“Big statement?” Ben asked.

“Big statement,” you confirmed. He gave you a wicked smile and then let out an incredibly sexual, and incredibly loud, moan. You were slightly taken aback just how… sensual it was, but pushed it aside and joined him. You had to admit, you felt incredibly silly doing so, but you let out a few pornographic moans and even threw in a dragged out moan of Ben’s name.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Ben said louder than necessary, “Cum for me.” You had to fight off the laugh that was ready to erupt as Ben threw you a dopey smile.

“Oh, Ben!” You called out, “Yes, right there baby!”

“Grand finale?” Ben said softly. You nodded and the two of you let out one final loud moan. You collapsed back into bed panting a little from bouncing and trying very hard not to laugh your ass off as you and Ben caught your breath.

“That was the best fake sex I’ve ever had,” Ben joked. You and he were laying on your backs looking up at your ceiling that was decorated with glow in the dark stars.

You laughed softly, “Same here.” You were throughout amused with the situation, but that wasn’t actually what was at the front of your mind. What was, however, was just how much Ben’s fake moans had turned you on. Fake or not, his deep voice letting out guttural moans and saying your name in a sensual way had you clenching your legs together as you laid in bed.

“So,” Ben said after a moment.

“So.”

“Guess we can get to sleep then. Can’t wait to see their faces in the morning,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said, “Me either.” As you both laid there, you wondered if Ben was having the same thoughts that you were, “Well, goodnight.” You said and turned over to face away from him.

“Yeah,” he said, “’Night.”

You look straight ahead of you, the wall seemingly staring back, taunting you. ‘You have the hots for your fake boyfriend’ it seemed to tease. ‘You want to know what his real sex moans sound like’. The sound of Ben’s fake moans replayed in your head as you laid there. Your mind wandered, you wondered what his face would look like as he orgasmed, what his final moan would sound like. You wondered what his slender fingers would feel like on your bare skin, what they’d feel like inside you.

You sighed and turned over in your bed, now angered at the wall that wouldn’t shut up. You turned right over to see Ben facing you, and your movement prompted him to open his eyes to look at you in question. You laid there, facing the most attractive person you had ever seen, and couldn’t help but let your eyes slide down to look at his lips. He caught this, of course, since his face wasn’t even a foot away from yours.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

“Yeah?” you whispered back.

“I-“ he began, “Can I-“

“Kiss me?” you asked. You didn’t even wait for any sort of response, “Please do,” you practically whined. His response was immediate; he placed his hand on the side of your face and brought you closer, his lips crashing against yours. It was passionate, it was hot, and it was everything you expected it to be. The kiss you two had exchanged in front of your parents was for show, there wasn’t any emotion behind it really, but this? This? It took your breath away. Ben took his hand away from your face and moved it further down your side and around to the small of your back. He used this new position to pull you even closer, which you didn’t protest.

You didn’t protest so much that you took a bold risk and pushed Ben back a bit so that he was flat on his back, then you swung your leg over his body and hovered over him. You broke the kiss finally to sit up a bit and move your hair out of the way before leaning back in to capture him in another breathtaking kiss.

You were full of bold moves, it seemed, as you broke away from his lips and began kissing along his jawline and down his neck, “Y/N,” Ben panted.

“Tell me to stop if it’s too far,” you breathed against his neck.

“Don’t stop, please keep going,” he begged. You smirked and nibbled a bit here and there on his neck, then trailed your kissed further south. You kissed down the ridges of his abs and stopped just short of his sweatpants band. “Keep going, keep going,” Ben repeated. You looked up at him and locked eyes with the pretty panting blond and gave him a small smile. You hooked your two pointer fingers inside the band of the sweats and dragged them down. You let out a soft moan when you saw he had gone commando; his dick sprang up and stood at attention, waiting for you. You licked your lips, biting your lip slightly before leaning in and taking the head of his cock in your mouth. He let out a much more real, much more throaty moan compared to his fake ones. The sound egged you on; you needed to hear more.

You weren’t exactly very experienced, but you had gathered enough from your friends and from stories you read to give you a general idea of what to do. You slowly worked the member further into your mouth, working the parts you couldn’t fit with your hand. It was difficult, at first, to find a good rhythm while trying not to gag and still breathe through your nose, but once you finally got passed that it was easier with each bob.

You were achieving your goal, too. Ben��s moans became more frequent and more audible as you went. His hand came up and tangled up your hair with his slender fingers, pulling it every so often when you hit a particularly sweet spot.

“Sweetheart, Y/N, I-,” he huffed, “I’m so close.” You knew immediately where you wanted his load, and you made it clear when you picked up speed a bit. Ben was a moaning mess as you pulled him to the brink, his load exploding in your mouth as he let out a final, loud moan. You pumped his cock a few final times, ensuring you had gotten all of his cum, then pulled off with a sloppy pop. You wiped up around your mouth and crawled back up towards Ben to show him an empty mouth.

“Christ,” he muttered, “You’re pretty good at that.”

You smiled at him, “Why, thank you,” you said as you laid back down beside him and faced him.

He seemed to get this look all of a sudden; it seemed sinister. “My turn,” he said. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, he had you flipped onto your back and was nipping at your inner thighs.

“Good Lord,” you panted. Your inner tights were incredibly sensitive, and having Ben so close to the place you wanted him most made you even wetter than you were before. He was teasing you, planting kissed and small love bite to your tights, “Bennnn,” you whined, “I didn’t tease you much, don’t be mean.”

He chuckled and threw his gaze up to look at you, “Sorry, sweetheart, can’t help myself. Love having you squirm under me.” He obliged, however, and quickly discarded your underwear. He parted your legs, held them apart as best he could with one hand, and with the other hand, he took his middle finger and slowly run it up your slit, parting your pussy lips. He collected some of the juices you’d accumulated and ran his slicked up finger up and down your cunt.

“Bennnn,” you whined again.

He chuckled, “All right, all right,” he said and drove right in. He ran his tongue from your hole all the way to your clit and you released a moan so sexual it surprised even you. He toyed around a bit, poking his tongue here and there to get himself familiar with what made you moan louder. When he finally decided he had found just the right spot, he flicked his tongue to verify. A jolt of pleasure ripped through your body and you gripped at Ben’s hair to ground yourself.

Ben was a man in the desert without water and your pussy was a tall, cool drink of water. At least, that’s what it felt like as Ben vigorously flicked his tongue over your clit. It was intense, and you knew you weren’t gonna last nearly as long as you wanted to. You tried to fight off your orgasm, tried to ensure this heart-stopping sensation never ended, but it had been a while since your last orgasm and Ben was just so damn good.

In just a few minutes, you were a panting mess, “Ben,” you managed to breathe out, “Ben, don’t stop. So close.” He seemed to pick up the pace if that was even possible, and seconds later you moaned out his name and came hard. You saw stars for a few seconds as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. You were pulling at his hair, moaning his name, but he kept going. You were so sensitive, so wrecked already, but god help you, you needed Ben to keep going, so you didn’t stop him. He licked you through your entire orgasm, and just when you thought he was done, he kept going.

You moaned loud as he brought his hand up and easily slid two fingers inside. You were out of your mind, not a thing on your brain besides the intense pleasure Ben was providing right now. The fingers added something you didn’t even think was missing until they were there. And just when you thought ‘this is it, this is the best thing I’ll ever feel’, Ben curved his fingers and quickly found a spot inside you that you thought was just a myth; your G spot.

Well, that second orgasm came faster than you ever imagined, but there you were, pulling on Ben’s beautiful curls with one hand while the other clawed at the bedsheet. You turned your head and managed to cover your mouth with a pillow as you screamed out in pleasure. Ben licked you through that orgasm as well. When he felt you had calmed a bit, he removed his fingers and finally removed his mouth from your core. You were dizzy, you were seeing more stars than before, and your breathing made it seem like you just ran a five-minute mile.

You knew Ben had laid back down next to you, but your brain was still in shock and your voice seemed to had run away with your last orgasm. You took in a few deep breaths, began to gather your thoughts, and mustered up enough energy to turn and face Ben.

“You alright?” he asked, his clean hand coming up to gently stroke your face.

“That-“ you attempted, “There are no words. I’ve never experienced-,” you faltered, “That was incredible.”

Ben chuckled, “Glad you enjoyed it.”

“I never want to do anything but that for the rest of my life,” you said with a laugh.

“Well, that can certainly be arranged.”

“This is not how I imagined this night would go.”

“Me either,” Ben said, “It's way better.” You smiled at him, “Do you need anything? I know that last one was pretty intense. Here,” he said and reached over to grab up a water bottle he had brought from downstairs, “You should drink some water.” You gladly accepted the water and took a few sips before passing it back to him.

You smiled at him as he looked at you with soft eyes, then leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips. This one was much more refined than the others, much gentler and just as passionate. When you broke away, you cuddled up next to him and laid your head on his chest. “Goodnight, Ben.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he muttered quietly. You quickly drifted off to bed, comforted by Ben’s steady breathing and warm embrace.

#ben hardy #benjamin hardy #bohemian rhapsody #ben hardy smut #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x y/n #ben hardy x you

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aliypop · 3 years

Text

Beauty Has Her Ways ( Prt 2)

Word count : 1, 286

Warning: Language

A/N : I made a part 2 For Angelica I hope you guys like it

"Nothing, you're half of us ... half of..."

"Who's this kid..." Tiffany looked at her, as her eyes then went wide from her scent. Another part of her that she knew nothing about,

"Are you my..."

"Sister..." Angelica backed into Marko, who looked down at her and smirked. Her face nearly looked paler than even Tiffany's as fear washed over her. "That's just great..." Sam mumbled under his breath as David glared at him. "Sorry..." Tiffany began to circle the shorter young woman lifting her face examining her features, "Same eyes... Same curls." Tiffany laughed harder,

"Holy shit, I have a sister...What's your name, kiddo..."

"An... An..., Angelica."

"It's okay: I won't hurt you..." Tiffany said, her hand on top of her sisters, "But I wanna know everything about you. Est-ce que tu es d'accord?"

Angelica only nodded as she was a bit frightened, still everything: was so odd to her. From the cave itself to the boys surrounding her. "By any chance, did they scare you..." Tiffany asked, watching as the boys all straightened up, Marko looking away watching as she nodded. "Forgive their manors, for they pretend as if they don't have any!" Tiffany glared,

"Michael..."

"What's wrong, Tiff..."

"Your break ended three hours ago..." She winked.

As both sisters moved further into the cave, there in front of them was Tiffany's nest. 1920's headboard along with the remaining curtains from the hotel with pictures from her past surrounding her. It was almost as if her bedroom belonged somewhere that wasn't here. "Welcome to my humble room, little pest." Tiffany flopped on her bed, tossing her jacket across her desk. Angelica, who later sat on the floor, looked up as she saw a necklace hanging off a broken branch of her chandelier.

"So Mon Cherie, tell me about yourself...Where are you from?"

"I lived here all my life... I don't know much else but Santa Carla..." Angelica began to fidget a bit, playing with her hair. "Mom was cool... Dad, I only saw at night..." she laughed, "He talked in this funny southern accent, but he's cool. ``She laughed, "He speaks french just like you, and you kinda look like him pretty crazy, huh..." Angelica looked up at Tiffany, who only nodded,

"So where do you live ..." she asked Angelica.

"We live in a house in the Suburbs mom likes gardening... You'd like it a lot, Tiff-"

"Do they talk about me?" the vampire jolted up from her bed, "Do they talk about why they sent me to New Orleans... Or had me turned into ..."

"Into a what..."

"You're too young to understand..."Tiffany sighed, "Hey, it's getting late, and I should take you home." she smiled, grabbing the keys to her motorcycle as she put her leather jacket on. David sat in his wheelchair throne as Marko pushed him around the main cave. Dwayne, who was next to Paul, watched Tiffany like a hawk. "I'll be back, don't worry about me, baby..." Tiffany kissed Dwayne's forehead while Angelica watched in awe.

"Is that your boyfriend..."

"Just get on the bike." Tiffany let out a laugh.

"Well, is he..." She swung her leg over and sat down. "He's one of my boyfriends," she smirked as they rode off into the suburbs. As the sounds of waves crashing against the water, Tiffany couldn't help but wonder what her parents would think, would they want to see her again or perhaps even talk, or maybe they would have aged. Her dark eyeliner under her eyes no longer there as she tried to present herself in a less threatening way,

It was the sweet, simplistic American country club suburbia.

"Welp, Kiddo, you have a safe ni-,"

"Angelica DuBois, where have you been!" a woman who had dark hair in a style that she swore Whitney Huston once wore ran out the front door. "And you're staying with Strangers... "

"Mom, Sam isn't a stranger, if anything, he's a guy I li-"

"Like!" Both Tiffany and Isabella said at the same time. Looking up at each other, Tiffany felt her skin grow colder as the eyes that were peering at her were those of her "Mother... " she held her hand on her necklace,

"I haven't seen you since... "

"Since 1776..." Tiffany looked down, "And 1791... When you died..." she laughed.

"I'm sorry, but what's going on..." Angelica questioned.

"Go inside... your fathers gonna have a talking to with you, young lady..."

"You never let me know anything!"

"ANGELICA G-"

"We're Vampires... and one day you will be too... " Tiffany shrugged. her mother pinched both girls by the ears,

"Nice going ..."

"What did I do..." Tiffany asked, "You got us grounded by dad..." As they were both dropped in front of a taller man Tiffany only groaned,

Ashton, who resembled the face of a Duke in an area called Bridgerton,

" Angelica, go to your..." His brown eyes looking back at ones that resembled his, Angelica scurried upstairs, leaving the two downstairs.

"Tiffany DuBois ma douce fille..." he kissed her forehead as she pushed him away. "Je ne suis plus une fille you missed those years..." she laughed, pushing past him as she plopped on the couch. "Who the hell is DuBois..." she then asked,

"It's your last name..."

"Countess Liru named me Monroe..." She mumbled under her breath, "It's always been, Monroe..."

"Now it's back to DuBois." he took her head in his hand, reading her thoughts, "A cave... My daughter lives in a..."

"It was the Santa Carla resort until the big Earthquake of 1906, and now it belongs to..."

"The one that Vlad owned..."

"Yes, that one..." she sighed, "Now if you excuse me, I gotta get ba-" Tiffany looked around as she was in a bedroom already dressed in a 50's negligé that she assumed was her mother's. The room was like any standard 80's teen room, posters, a usual bed, a window seat, and a desk. "You know, Tiffany, it's not so bad here..." Angelica said from the door frame in her Ghostbusters pajamas. Tiffany giggled as she looked over,

"You've known them all your life. I wasn't lucky..." she ran her fingers through her curls, already missing the touch of David and Dwayne,

"So, they're our blood."

"Blood doesn't mean shit, besides. It only makes for a tasty late-night snack." Tiffany snapped, "Look, those boys you met, Dwayne, Paul, David, Marko, that's my family." she smiled, "We've had each other's backs since 1906..." she whistled,

"Must've been hard..."

"What..."

"Becoming a Vampire..." She mumbled, " I didn't think they were real until..." Angelica began to shake, "Until what..."

"One tried to eat me..."

"Damn it, Marko..." she mumbled under her breath, "Well, Listen, kiddo, if you ever wanna talk about the vamp stuff. You can meet me at the record shop."

"Promise..."

"Promise now go to sleep or something..." Angelica rolled her eyes as she walked to her room. Sitting in the window made Tiffany feel like a cat in a cage. As she opened the window, she could almost feel her undead life start to change.

"You ready to go..."

"How'd you find me?" Tiffany asked, watching Dwayne float, " Your scent..." he smirked, watching Tiffany shivered, putting his jacket on her shoulders, scooping her in his arms. Dwayne had a smile on his face,

" You know I can fly."

"I wanna make David a little jealous."

"So then I found out she was a vampire Sam, a Vampire! and I might be one too..." Angelica gasped as she sat in her work uniform with Sam,

"My brothers a half-vampire, so that's not too crazy." he laughed, holding her hand.

"Hey, Emerson, hands off my sister!"

#sam emerson x oc #sam emerson #michael emerson #david the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #tiffany the lost boys oc #fanfic #new #The Lost Boys 1987 #the lost boys #angelica dubois lost boys oc #tlbs

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xmalereader · 4 years

Text

Agent Whiskey X Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

Summary: Reader works as a bartender in statesmen, only working their for the money and not caring about the agents or missions. But agent whiskey keeps getting on his nerves and is trying to seduce him, he may be younger and have the figure of a women which he hated sometimes but it helped him get dates, one day he overhears about a mission and butts in when he knows he shouldn’t have.

Warnings; Slight angst, sarcasm, whiskey being a little shit, slight smut, smart reader, looks cute in glasses, whiskey flirting, reader and tequila being friends, Champagne tried of this shit.

—

A loud alarm is what wakes him up, groaning into his pillow as he reaches over his nightstand to grab his phone and turn off the alarm. He peaks out from under his pillow to check the timing, he still had an hour left until work started but he knows that he should be there earlier since agents tend to get cranky when not given their alcohol on time.

The young man sighs deeply and remains lying in bed for a minute or two before setting his phone down and slowly getting out of bed, he heads towards the bathroom to get ready for the day. He takes a quick shower and makes sure that he’s all dried up, not wanting to ruin his suit once he puts it on.

His suit wasn’t anything expensive, it was just a white button up with a black tie and a vest. The others at his job would wear the full on fancy suits since they were rich-rich for what they did while he remained as a bartender—not that he was complaining, he loved his job. It was easy and quiet, no one had to speak with him and he enjoyed the silence.

Finishing up with his suit he makes sure to wash his face and teeth, doing his hair last as he ran his fingers through it, he liked the messy look it gave and it wasn’t much work. He didn’t care about the style of his hair—he was already judged enough in public so what was the point? He makes sure to grab his glasses and putting them on, adjusting himself to the bright lights and clear vision. He wasn’t fully blind, he just couldn’t see that well in the mornings that he has to wear his glasses for a current amount of time.

Yawning deeply he checks the time again, he still had a lot of time in his hands which gives him the opportunity to make hismelf some breakfast, taking his time as he cooked and would check his phone for any message.

Try not to be late again

He groans at agent tequilas text, rolling his eyes he responds back with a dry text, to lazy to say something nice or to make hismelf sound excited. He’s been doing this job for a malt two years now and he should be grateful that he hasn’t gotten fired yet, he should thank tequila for getting him the job. If it weren’t for him he would still be working at that sleazy restaurant located downtown.

Severing and making drinks was an easy job and he knew a lot about alcohol, he didn’t drink but he learned at a young age. His own father used to own a bar before he died, forcing him to close it down. He remembers telling his father that he didn’t want to run his own bar and that he wanted to do something else with his future. He expected his father to be upset with him but he never was, instead he was proud of him. Knowing that one day he’ll have the future he wants.

Distracted by his own thoughts he hears his phone go off again, chewing and swallowing his food he checks the texts and sighs.

Whiskey is here, you know how he gets in the mornings.

He grumbles and stands up, knowing that he’ll have to get their early.

“Oh my way.” He whispers out and types, sending the text and grabbing his coat and bag, the trip to statesmen was quick, he lived at least two miles away from work and would take his motorcycle, being able to go through the streets faster without any trouble.

He parks his motorcycle under the building and takes the elevator to the top floor, he adjusts his tie and glasses. Fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder as the elevator doors open into a clear white hallway where he steps out into and heads towards the lab room.

“Morning Ginger.” He says to the young women sitting in her chair, she was drinking her morning coffee as she stares at the computers in front of her. “Morning, y/n. You are here early.” She says as y/n puts his bag inside a cupboard.

“Yeah, whiskey decided to get on my ass this morning, again.” He sighs out in frustration and walks around the lab, cleaning up the few messes that she created. “Hm you know how whiskey gets.” She adds as she goes back to typing away in her computer. Y/n could only sigh before leaving the lab, letting her do her own thing.

He heads off towards the main room, where everyone else was. Y/n heads towards the bar and grabs a tray, taking cups from another table as he sets them on the tray. “Look who’s finally awake.” Y/n groans once he hears Whiskey, he looks up to see him smirking. “You’re the reason why I am here early, whiskey.” He shot back with a glare of his own. “Now sweetheart—“

Without thinking he takes out a small knife from the counter drawer and slams it down, close to whiskeys hand. “Don’t. Call. Me. That.” He hisses out in anger as Whiskey stares at him with wide eyes. “You could’ve gotten my hand!”

“Well, I missed.” Y/n says back with an eye roll and pulls the knife back, using it to cut some lemons and begins to prepare the drinks. Whiskey was about to say something back but was cut off by tequila entering the room and greeting y/n with a smile. “Mornin’ didn’t think you would make it on time.”

“I actually had a lot of extra time but this ungrateful man rushed my beauty sleep.” He points his knife towards whiskey who scoffs at him. Everyone at statesmen knew that you and whiskey dind’t get along and no one really knows why, you’re first day here went well until whiskey decided to mess around with him and make fun of him which lead to the two becoming enemies, everyone thought it was becuase of that but it really wasn’t and y/n had his reasons.

There were also times that whiskey flirted with him and kept asking him out on dates but y/n always turned him down, already knowing whiskeys reputation when it comes to dating. He didn’t want to be some random one night stand for him, he was the kind of person who looked for a real relationship and not someone who would only sleep around.

“Maybe a beauty like you doesn’t need sleep.”

Y/n gives whiskey a glare, turning around to grab some glass bottles from the shelves. “Always flirting, never stops.” Said tequila as he heads towards the long table and waits for the others to gather up for their next mission. “Best you join the others.” Y/n tells whiskey with a fake smile as he began to pour the drinks for everyone.

“Now sugar—“

“Go before I decide to spit in your drink.” He warns, giving him a glance.

That was enough for whiskey to leave the bar and head towards the long table, it doesn’t take long for ginger and champagne to enter the room, ginger hands out a few files and has the screen turned on where she could show some more information to the others.

Y/n works quietly like usual and ignores their conversation, picking up the tray and walking over to them as ginger speaks. He stand tall and silent, adjusting his own glasses as he sets down the drinks next to the agents, he makes sure to move around without causing attention.

Once he reaches tequila he makes sure to set down a coaster for him, reaching out for his glass—

“We still haven’t receive any information about Satsujin—“

The name catches him off guard, the drink slipping from his grasp as it spills all over the table, getting on the files as he curses under his breath and quickly takes out a rag.

“Someone’s not paying attention.” Said whiskey with a grin.

Y/n grumbles as he began to clean up the spill. “Everything okay, y/n?” He hears champagne say as he sits at the end of the table. Y/n bites his lip nervously, he was always good with talking to others but he always found champagne intimidating. “Sorry, sir it’s just—that name, I—it sounds familiar.” He stutters out, collecting himself and putting the rag on top of the empty tray and picking up the empty glass.

“Satsujin Tenoh?” Ginger asks with raises brows, a little surpised. “This guy.” She makes a picture appear of the man, in the picture Satsujin was exiting a car, wearing a fancy suit with tow men dressed in black standing next to him. Y/n could only stare at the picture as he answers. “Yes.” He whispers out and sighs.

“How do you know Satsujin?” Asked tequila, as he sits up in his chair and placed his hands on top of the counter.

Y/n gaped at the agents as he opens and clothes his mouth, trying to find an answer to his question. When he finally finds it he answers in a small voice, “We went to high school together, been friends since childhood.”

Everyone stared at him with shocked eyes, they couldn’t believe that their little bartender was friends with a very powerful man like; Satsujin Tenoh. “Wait, so your friends with this guy?” Whiskey points to the picture, not believing him.

Y/n rolls his eyes. ”Not anymore, we were friends since birth until the end of our senior year, I knew that his family was the yakuza and they treated my parents with respect before they both passed away but as we grew up he followed his fathers footsteps, carrying on the family business.” He began to explain. “He did things that I didn’t agree with so I dissappeared, I expected him to track me down but he hasn’t in years, haven’t heard much about him until now.”

The room is silent, everyone just stared. He was slowly becoming uncomfortable and decides to back away from the table and head back to the bar by the corner to continue on his work but is quickly stopped by whiskey. “You knew this fucker all this time?!”

“How was I suppose to know that you guys were tracking him down? I don’t always listen, I’m just here to do my job!” He exclaims, setting the empty tray on the counter.

Tequila decides to speak up before the two get into an argument, “Look Y/n came in here to work as our private bartender and yes we did a background check but nothing was connected about his relationship with Satsujin—“

“Ex—relationship.” Y/n corrects him.

“You two were a thing?” Whiskey butts in, earning him a frown form y/n. “Your an idiot.”

“My point is—!” Tequila gets their attention again. “Y/n could help us with this case, he knows enough about this guy that we could get him in the field.”

“What?! No, no, I am not doing this.”

“And why not?” Tequila stares at y/n as he waits for an answer. “Becuase I’m not an agent, I don’t do this stuff and I’d rather not do it, so find someone else to do it or go solo.” He shrugs, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re the only one who can do this and besides I’ve seen you fight before, you are a feisty one when it comes to fighting and arguing.” Tequila sends him a smirk which only earns him a glare in return.

Y/n takes in a deep breath before sighing out in frustration. “Fine—but only for this one mission, nothing else.” He holds up a finger as in for telling them that he was serious, once this was all over he would get back to his regular job as a bartender and pretend like nothing ever happened.

“Excellent!” Champ claps his hands together as he stands up from his seat and chugs down his drink. “I’m assigning this mission to both y/n and Whiskey.”

“What?!” Y/n shouts, pacing towards the table. “With all due respect I think tequila and I will work better together for this missions.”

“Tequila is being sent to another mission located in California which leaves Whiskey with nothing to do besides he’s perfect for the mission.” Champ gives him a smile as y/n crosses his arm and glares down at whiskey who only smirks at him, raising his glass as a toast before chugging down his drink.

Y/n holds in a groan as he grips his arms. “I hate this already.” He says out loud.

#pedro pascal #kingsmen #agent whiskey x male reader #pedro pascal x male reader #male reader #agent whiskey #kingsmen x male reader

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