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#and be super adamant about and insist that it's his favorite despite not actually knowing. because jr is one year old
bigboobyhalo · 2 years
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Well because it is his first birthday I doubt they would know what he really likes yet so I think they get him one of those cakes that’s a bunch of different flavors,, jr gets to eat a bunch of cake he deserves it
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this picture goes in the baby photo album <3
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sunlight-moonrise · 4 years
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Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)
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Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much. 
A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog​ and @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt​ for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins​.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness. 
Category: Smut
Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie
Word Count: 6.4K
Masterlist
Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.
“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.
My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name. 
“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.
“No worries! What can I get started for you?”
As a Criminology major,  I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit. 
Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top. 
Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.  
I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.  
Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.
“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.
“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.
“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag. 
“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”
“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.
“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.
“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”
“How can you be so sure?” 
“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him. 
“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”
“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”
●●●
After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.
Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.
I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears. 
“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”
I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 
It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.
“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”
I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.
My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.
“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.
“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”
“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”
“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door. 
I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.
“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed. 
“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face. 
He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.
“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us. 
I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.
“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets. 
“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue. 
“Goodbye, Y/N.”
“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony. 
I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead. 
●●●
In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.
I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark. 
“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.
“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”
“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.
There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.
“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”
He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”
“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.
“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.
“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.
“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.
“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?” 
This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.
“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”
“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.
“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.
“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”
“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus. 
“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.
“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.
“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”
“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”
“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”
Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”
“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.
“I should get going.”
“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door. 
That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?
I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work. 
●●●
I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.
I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly. 
I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do? 
I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.
Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped. 
“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”
The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.
How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D? 
“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.
I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.
Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel. 
“Professor, I need to speak with you.”
“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.
“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.
“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.
“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.
I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist. 
●●●
I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions. 
“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.
“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.
“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.  
“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.  
“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.
A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.
“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“
“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.
“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.
“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.
“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”
“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me. 
“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.
“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.
We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.
Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man. 
I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.
Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.
He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.
“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.
I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.
“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.
“Open, and do it right this time.”
I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.
“You’re using only your mouth.” 
Fine, have it your way, Sir. 
I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.
“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.
I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.
“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.
Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.  The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.
He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.
“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.
I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.
“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.
“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”
He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.
“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.
“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.
“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.
“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”
Gee, thanks.
“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion. 
“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.
Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.
Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.
He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.
He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.  
“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.
“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat. 
“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point. 
“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.
“Try again, who’s fucking you?” 
“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.
“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”
“Professor Reid!” I cried out.
“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.
He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy. 
I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner. 
“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added. 
He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”
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rwbybutincorrect · 3 years
Text
I have some suggestions for your RWBY pokemon AU
I think Absol makes more sense as a pokemon either for Ruby, or, what I think is more fitting, for Qrow. Absol in the pokemon world is considered a harbinger of disaster because of its ability to sense oncoming calamities, and Qrow considers himself a bad luck charm and his weapon is called Harbinger, so I can imagine it being like, his signature pokemon, and maybe Ruby, wanting to emulate her Uncle, catches one for herself.
I also think Ruby and Yang's starters make more sense swapped around, Blaziken fits more with Yang (a hot headed fighting type) rather than Incineroar (a Dark type meant to emulate Heels in wrestling I.e the bad guys). Incineroar also fits better with Ruby's v1-v3 colours, though I also don't think a fire starter would fit Ruby, I think Sceptile fits more, as it's a fast pokemon that uses its leaves on its arms as blades, which I think fits Ruby better.
I'd also pick Rosarade over Florges but that's just my purrsonal preference.
Now for Weiss, my only suggestion  would be changing Corvinkight with something else, and I'm thinking Glaceon. I love the idea that Weiss as a child finds an injured Eevee in the large family garden and secretly takes care of it, but her father finds out and forces her to take it back to the wilds, but while out there it saves Weiss from several Beowolves and in the artic climate evolves into a Glaceon which Weiss then adopts.
Blake, id replace Absol with Greninja for aesthetic, but otherwise I would change Gallade's past, Ralts' only show themselves to trainers with strong positive emotions, so I can't see Adam ever having one, but I like the idea of maybe Blake and Yang being helped during the forest exam at Beacon by two Ralts/Kirlia's who they then take (Yang saying its the sign of their new partnership), and otherwise I would change Gallade for Gardevoir for Blake and have Gallade be Yang's pokemon, since it's a pokemon with strong morals and I feel fit Yang better.
Now for Yang, and other than the previous suggestions of Blaziken and Gallade as hers, I would replace Tyrantrum with Hitmontop, storywise I'd say that, when she's recovering post Beacon and on her way back from visiting Summer's grave, she encounters a Tyrouge rushing headfirst into fighting a stronger pokemon and getting seriously hurt, so Yang saves it and takes it home to recover. Despite all its injuries it still insists on training, Tai seeing this starts encouraging Yang to train with it, hoping it'll help her out. As both Yang and the Tyrouge bond and train, learning not to rush headfirst into battles and to adopt a more balanced fighting style, it evolves into Hitmontop to symbolise Yang's recovering and training.
And thats just RWBY, I have plenty of suggestions for JNPR, Sun, Ilia, Adam, Salem's forces, STQR, the Ace-Ops, Happy Huntresses and Neo~
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submitted by @ladydevoir thank you :EYES:
[for reference, this is about this post]
treating this like an ask because i assume that's why you submitted it, because of the text limit but :EYESY:EYES:EYES
my choice of absol for blake is because i knew about the lore implications of absol and thought it would be a tragic detail if an absol appeared before her trying to protect her from the travesties she's repetitively had to face. i might give one to qrow anyway because I'm not afraid of duplicates!!! i didn't think about any supporting adult pokemon teams quite yet!
i will be honest, the blaziken choice for ruby was mostly self indulgent :3 i love chickens and blaziken's aesthetic. notable moments in the anime stuck with me, like during xy's series when there was a vigilante "blaziken man" protecting luminous city - that's a big reason why i chose it for her, that kind of over the top kind of heroism i thought worked. as opposed to incenroar who fights dirty. early in rwby, yang is a very backhanded and not exactly noble kind of hero. just look at the "yellow" trailer, fucking shit up for self motivated reasons (good for her.) i thought it fit her! --- but i can absolutely see what you're saying with sceptile, that is another favorite of mine and i'd love to see her with a sceptile that could mega evolve!
roserade, yeah i can see that fitting too! i forget it exists sometimes- my bad - and i like the grass type a little bit more to some extent than the fairy type because ruby has less of an association to the balance of nature~ that fairies do
i like the glaceon idea a lot too!!! the concepts of potential and direct reflection of her cold home - not to mention it's my second favorite eeveelution :D corviknight, yeah, it's my weakest link and i wanted to add it purely on the basis i'd like the snow queen to have her knight - but i think a glaceon would be much cuter, considering she already has plenty of stand ins for her glyphs!
I'm also interested about the greninja for the aesthetic! I'm not all that attached to the kalos starters so i tend to forget about them a lot more, i leaned on the "dark" type for blake but definitely didn't consider the. actual ninja pokemon. but i also tried to hold off on giving her a proper starter because in this little hc concept of mine, starters come specifically from pre-huntsmen schools (like signal in yang and ruby's case). i liked having the narrative of some students being "othered" by lacking starters - a visual tool when displaying their teams that they didn't have the opportunity to start where others did. not to say greninja couldn't have been a wild encounter or something else - fun to think about and really fits!
i DID not know about the kirlia lore though, i thought it was pretty weak when i was coming up with it and that is so interesting to know. i enjoy the idea of a pokemon switching allegiances from adam to protect blake but with this new information, I'll probably rewrite it in a way where the bee duo's ralts evos are more exclusive to them :3 i do like your idea of switching them, though, i tried to switch them to divert expectations, right (yang being a bit more masc than yang yet having a gardevoir, blake having the more showmanshy evo) but i might switch them. or i can just say the pokemon are practically shared and will switch up who they're paired with by their own choice. gf things <333
the hitmontop concept is really interesting for yang! it really does fit her - and i never paid attention to the line because, i will be honest, it never aesthetically pleased me, but narratively it works super well. i liked tyrantrum because i loved giving yang dragons and i also thought if she restored a tyrunt herself, it would be a nice indication of yang's genuine intelligence and wisdom. i don't like people boiling her down to a bimbo, haha funny stupid lesbian, but i feel like people also fail to recognize her genuine technical and social intelligence that she's portrayed throughout the series. then again, a hitmontop could show that emotional and protective instinct and intelligence she carries. it's sweet!! I'm torn!!!
AAAAANYWAY LONG STORY SHORT thank you so much for your opinions!!! i love the feedback and second opinion. i did a little bit of brainstorming with few friends in our discord server and its nice to hear an unrelated voice's takes!
feel free to send us more ideas if you'd like!!! :D as of right now I'm working on (the original) jnrp's post, and have penny, oscar, roman, neo, emerald, mercury, and cinder's teams planned! (I'm not sure how to section them off atm so their posts are coming later!) I'm curious to hear your ideas for when i get around to these other characters
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totallytododeku · 4 years
Text
☁ studying together ( x reader hc's) ☁
characters: midoriya, bakugou, todoroki, kirishima, yaoyorozu, uraraka, + ashido
genre: fluff  <33
☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁
I. Midoriya 🌳🍀🌻
this poor boy is so excited to be spending time with you
but he will not take his nose out of his textbook
he can't help it
he's so happy to be in the hero course he takes his schoolwork a little too seriously
however, you can use this to your advantage ;)
normally you're almost as invested in his journey to becoming the next Symbol of Peace and achieving his dream as he is
and you would never dream of doing anything that could jeopardize it
So you were silently bouncing off the walls with glee when you realized he was impervious to distractions when it came to studying
literally anything is fair game
which is why studying with him is your new favorite time of day
pet his hair
kiss his cheeks
climb into his lap
pat his head
hold his non-dominant hand
hug him from behind his chair
rest your head on his shoulder and take a nap
do whatever you want
you can basically do anything to him while he's studying without having to worry about distracting him
he will blush a little bit of you kiss him but but you think it's adorable
lol turn on whatever tv or music you want
but only if you're done with your work!!
hes very adamant that you keep up with your work as best you can do you can graduate side by side and be pro heroes together someday
K. Bakugou 💣💥 📢
he would totally be the one to invite you to study and he would probably want to study in his dorm
it's super quiet and nobody will bother you guys because they know it's that spiky gremlin's room
overall his room just has a really relaxing atmosphere
you love being near him as much as possible
and he's much more affectionate in the comfort of his dorm room
but that doesn't mean he's gonna go easy on u ;-;
he still has his gruff attitude and will make sure you're studying every day
or else he will call u baka and force you to sit down and study until you know all your material
he's actually a great tutor tho
he writes out all the work for each problem and explains them thoroughly
all while holding in you in his arms while you sit in his lap
sometimes you can convince him to play a game with you where every time you get an answer right he gives you a kiss
but you whine when you get one wrong and he won't kiss you
he huffs before giving you a kiss while still trying to look annoyed
stupid girl he mutters
but he pulls you a bit closer to him to hide his blush and moves on to the next problem despite your giggles
S. Todoroki ❄🔥🍜
he doesn't really need to study but he doesn't know how to just .. relax
like he doesn't know how to not do what his dad tells him to do
and his dad wants him to study
it's just easier for Todoroki to do what his dad wants than to rebel
that is, it was
Until he met you and the dekusquad
obviously everyone cares about their homework and wants to graduate well and go Plus Ultra!
but study sessions with Todoroki usually end up just being you guys trying to help him be less hard on himself while you have him as a captive audience
he doesn't really mind, though, especially when it's just you two
the intimacy of studying together in comfortable silence and just
enjoying each other's company
makes his heart go (* ̄∇ ̄*)
like i said he doesn't really need to study so he'll just end up helping you review material
please just ... hold his hand :)
after you're done studying for the day just pull him into a hug and over to your bed
he needs a nap
you feel warm fuzzies inside from how caring he's been to sit with you while you finished your homework and bring you warm tea
you don't even think you just
Time for cuddles :3
it becomes your daily ritual to study together and then cuddle
he always falls asleep in your arms with a small smile
E. Kirishima 🗿🗿🗿
(HAHAHSHNSJ THE 🗿 EMOJI OMG I'M LITERALLY SO FUNNY LOL I'M CRYING)
"Okay, Y/N, let's study hard and do our homework like men!" *fist-pumping the air and grinning like an idiot*
"...what's so funny? "
he doesn't care if you're not a man it's his trademark
he likes to study at his desk because he says it's "important to stay focused and work diligently"
generally he is the least focused person, ever. besides kaminari.
however, he's so energetic and enthusiastic that once you sit down and start studying he'll be able to keep your motivation up until you've finished all your homework
GREAT at studying for tests and quizzes (in theory)
he will never give up
like I said he could keep studying for hours once he sets his mind to it
So you have to compromise and get him to study in short bursts throughout the day to help him have a better chance of remembering anything ;-;
his memory is not great but it's kinda cute
you, being the smart cookie that u are, realized the best way to help him memorize things was to study with flashcards frequently throughout the weekend while doing other activities
so you plan to hang out together and do something fun every week while having your study material on index cards in your back pockets
it's a literal study date.
a weekly date out to the mall or the park or a little coffee shop but with math trivia thrown in randomly throughout the afternoon!! :D
Of course he was ready to turn it into a game he's a literal puppy
he just wants to show you you can be proud of him
you giggle lightly when you hear him say that and let him know that you'll always be proud of him, no matter what
M. Yaoyorozu 👑🏆☕
studyblr wants what u have.
studying in momo's room makes you feel like a Victorian young lady studying moral philosophy, writing poetry about the mourning doves outside the garden window, and waiting for her husband to come home from sailing the seven seas
it's your Belle moment where she's in the royal library except it's every day
stacks of beautiful, old books
the smell of the crisp, white pages
soft classical music floating through the air
the window cracked open slightly
and you are the luckiest student in all of UA because you get to study with the smartest girl in the whole school
she's also gorgeous and sweet and perfect which def doesn't hurt
u know that joke that ur teacher can spend a year explaining something and u never understand but then a random indian guy on YouTube explains it in 2 minutes and you finally get it
she is that random indian guy
you will never struggle with a single concept after you start studying with her
And she's so proud of you for every little question you answer correctly
(even thought she's the one that explained it all so well in the first place)
it's the definition of comfortable silence
she insists that neither of you study too hard and that you take lots of breaks to stretch
she says its to help you stay concentrated but really she just wants to feel your gentle hands on her shoulders as you massage out the knots
you take turns kneading the tension out of each other's shoulders
you feel a pleasant tingle down your spine at the feeling of her soft breath on the back of your neck
She pulls away and you share awkward smiles, neither of you realizing the other one of blushing, too
(((*≧艸≦)ププッ
O. Uraraka 🌜🚀🙏
ur actually super productive study buddies
Like u started studying together and then all of a sudden you were almost at the top of your class
she's just so sweet that being with her gives you the energy you need to write that essay all in one sitting instead of procrastinating like a normal person
Shows up at your dorm with snacks and drinks to keep your energy up!! :D
even though she's still going to end up getting sleepy anyway later in the afternoon
You get most of your studying done at the beginning of your study date so it's not really a problem
you know she doesn't have a lot of money to be throwing around so you pay for dinner every night
It's usually takeout but sometimes you guys make your own dinner for fun!
it always turns out almost inedible and burned because neither of you were paying attention to the stove
don't let baku see it or he'll start screaming about how you need to try your best at everything so he can beat you fair and square and that includes cooking too
neither you nor uraraka can handle spicey food so you never eat what Bakugou cooks for the class
You grab a few bags of chips and some sushi and shut yourselves in your dorm to pull an all-nighter study session about once a month
it should make you tired but, again, studying with her is so enjoyable that you don't mind
u two enjoy each others company in studying so much that you sometimes read ahead in your textbooks just to be able to study more
overall, hanging out with her is just lighthearted and filled with giggles
and you just so happen to get all your homework done along the way
M. Ashido 👾👽🚿
"studying" with her is so much fun
Hanging out with Mina in general is so much fun
it's impossible not to smile when she's around so even if you have a huge exam tomorrow, all your worries fade away just from being with her
She is pretty distracting in cases where you actually wanted to get stuff done
But you don't care
Change of plans
you're doing mani pedi's with Mina
No more studying
it's not as bad as it sounds though
You're not slacking off or anything and you can still keep your grades up with help from your other friends like Momo and Iida
you guys are just goofing off in the privacy of your dorm room when you should be studying
"It's not a crime to be young, Y/ N ;)"
she's just so energetic and happy like a little pink ball of sunshine
you can't help but laugh at her silliness and cute antics after a long day of classes
she makes your heart beat faster like you're on a roller coaster but without the nerves
somehow you feel giddy and comfortable in her presence at the same time
it doesn't matter what you two are doing, you always have fun
make sure she goes to bed on time, though, or she might end up baking a seven-tier cake at 3 am and Bakugou will scream at you for waking him up
don't feed her after midnight lmao
i started writing this after i almost died of boredom in my online calc class. my senioritis is already kicking in and it's still September (。-ω-)  
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happyandticklish · 3 years
Text
Not Like That
Notes: I just finished Sex Education on Netflix and it was amazing! Highly recommend it, though it is a rather mature show, fair warning. In regards to the fic, slight NSFW only in that the act of sex is mentioned but there’s no actual description of it. 
Summary: Adam never smiles and Eric finally stumbles across a method of making that a reality. 
“You know, you’re really good at this for someone who pretended to be straight my first three years of high school.”
Adam grunted and gently bit his neck in retaliation for the comment. “You talk too much.
“You know, you’re not the first person to say that to me.”
The two were curled up in one of the many chairs they had rummaged out of the trash heap that was their meeting spot. It was rickety and falling apart at the seams, but Eric enjoyed the semi romantic aspect to it; a bed would have been too formal. Adam liked it because it meant he could tilt the chair back and Eric would let out a startled yelp that he found adorable.
Currently, Adam was pressed up against Eric, devouring him from the neck down. They had quickly discovered that Adam was a far more affectionate lover than he was person and often enjoyed doing most of the grunt work. Eric had tried to reverse their positions loads of times, but Adam would always turn it back on him by either pinning his hands above his head or physically biting him as he he had seconds beforehand, not that Eric was complaining really.
Eric slid his hands under the hem of Adam’s shirt, the soft material giving instantly. Adam closed his eyes, tightening his grip on the other boy. He moved down, softly sucking the delicate skin of his chest and down his stomach, causing Eric to inhale sharply. They only got so far before Adam stiffened, freezing under his hands.
“Adam?” Eric slowly opened his eyes, breathing uneven as he spoke the name. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he snapped immediately. Eric narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to pursue the subject further, but Adam was already unbuckling the clasps of his jeans and all conversation was soon lost to him.
Nothing happened again until they were finished, Eric’s face buried in Adam’s chest while he listened to his gentle breathing. He traced light spirals up and down his back, the touch straying a bit too close to his sides at times. Adam hissed softly, goosebumps prickling down his skin. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Eric raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Don’t touch you? We just had sex, I think it’s a little late for that.”
“No,” Adam clarified, clearing his throat. “Just not, uh, not like that.”
“Like what.”
“Like…” Adam picked up the other boy’s hands, maneuvering the fingers so they traced over his sides yet again. “That.”
“Why?”
Adam sighed in annoyance, not wanting to have to spell it out for him. Eric could be strangely dense sometimes, and that was coming from him. “It… tickles. It tickled, I mean. When your hand… yeah.”
“Oh.” Eric paused, letting the information set in for a moment, before a devious grin began to take over his features. “Oh.”
Adam jerked back instinctively, but there was really only so much room in the broken down chair and he quickly found himself trapped between the armrest and Eric. “No. Don’t. I know what you’re planning, Tromboner, and you’ll be dead in the morning if you so much as try it.”
“You couldn’t kill me,” Eric scoffed. “Not to mention, you can’t just drop information like ‘Adam Groff is ticklish’ and expect me not to do anything about it.”
“Yes, I can,” Adam said, glaring intently at him in an attempt to gain back any intimidation factors he had possessed before. “And you won’t.”
“I’ll be gentle,” Eric promised, shifting around so that he straddling the other boy. “I just want to see what ticklish Adam looks like.”
“Fuck off—”
“Two minutes,” Eric interrupted, leaning forward. The sudden proximity caused a blush to bloom across Adam’s features, despite the fact that they had fucked less than two minutes ago. “Just two minutes and then you can shove me off, get revenge, do whatever. I just want two minutes without any interruptions.”
Adam bit his lip, mulling it over. “And I can get you back for it?”
“Sure, sure,” Eric agreed hastily, pushing back his own nerves. He could already tell Adam wasn’t going to go easy on him afterwards. Still, it was too good an oppurtunity to overlook; he would just have to make sure every second counted. “Do we have a deal?”
Adam examined him critically, quickly weighing out the cost/benefits in his mind. Finally he grunted, reluctantly pulling his arms above his head. “Fine. Just two minutes though.”
Eric grinned triumphantly and Adam felt his stomach flood with butterflies. He wasn’t super accustomed to feeling nervous, at least not this nervous. Scared sure, sometimes even downright terrified, but usually that was interspersed with feelings of anger and pain. This was… nice. Like having your first kiss or that feeling he would get whenever he caught Eric’s eye and the latter would smile back at him.
He interlaced his fingers at the back of his neck, locking them in place. He wanted to have a strong hold just in case he found it was more than he could handle and try to back out.
Eric’s hands rested on his stomach for a moment, lightly tapping his fingers. Adam watched him apprehensively. “Well?”
“Well what?” Eric asked innocently, every once in a while giving too firm of a tap and making the other boy flinch.
“Well,” Adam repeated irritably. “Aren’t you going to tickle me?”
“Yes, I just want to find the right way to go about it. You’ll know when I start.”
Okay, this was already more than he could handle. When Eric had first suggested it he had assumed he meant a quick rough and tumble kind of thing that he could grunt his way through and be over with. Now, with his body so stretched out and vulnerable and Eric’s eyes calculatingly roaming over him, he was beginning to regret his choice.
When Eric’s finally began, it was softer than he was expecting it to be. Starting at his hips, Eric slowly crawled his fingers up his sides in a way that was ever-so-gentle and undeniably ticklish. Adam inhaled sharply, his eyebrows drawing up helplessly as he fought to hold in laughter. Already every part of him wanted to shove Eric away and rub away the devastating sensations. Instead he just sat there, waiting in dreadful anticipation for Eric to reach his final destination.
Inches away from his armpits, however, Eric stopped his ascent and went all the way back to his hips. The sudden movement started a stifled grunt from him and Adam glared at him, quickly catching on to his game. Eric acted oblivious as he began the climb anew, this time digging in a little more with his fingers.
It only took three runs of the cruel teasing before Adam finally broke and stuttered laughter rose from his throat, a desperate edge to it. Eric’s eyes widened at the sound, one he had heard rarely in his life. His laugh was rough around the edges, like him, but there was a softer, more subdued side to it that made Eric’s heart melt. One of his favorite things about these secret meetings was getting to see these new, gentler sides to Adam, reserved only for him. He determined then that this would not be the last time he made him laugh like this.
“A-Ahaha, E-Eheric,” Adam stammered, legs trembling as he fought not to accidentally knee the other boy off of him. “T-Thahahat’s… heh, thahahahat’s—”
“What?” Eric asked curiously, but picked up the pace of his fingers so they raced towards his armpits before dragging back down his hips. “That’s what?”
Adam jumped at that, snorting. “Thahahat tihihihihickles!”
“I know man,” Eric agreed. “That’s kind of the whole point.”
The first minute and a half proceeded thusly, with Eric keeping Adam constantly on the edge as he tried to figure out what Eric was going to do. Soon his laughter became a mixture of breathy giggles and whines, a blush blooming across his features. Adam quickly regretted the decision to put his hands behind his head as it made it impossible to cover his expressions that he found dorky and Eric found adorable.
Finally though, Eric decided it was time to strike. He spidered his fingers around his hips for a moment, throwing the other boy off guard, and then jumped up to his armpits, drilling his fingers in viciously.
Adam shrieked. The bolt of electricity that shot through him sent fresh laughter tumbling from his mouth and instantly his arms came down and he shoved Eric off a bit harder than he probably needed to. This resulted in Eric falling out of the chair, eyes wide at the unexpected turn of events, and yelping as he hit the ground. Adam, skin still tingling slightly, quickly scrambled from his chair to see if the other was okay.
Eric, however, was laughing when Adam crouched over him, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation setting in. His concern quickly turned to embarrassment, and Adam crossed his arms petulantly as Eric sat up on his elbows. “It’s not funny.”
“It is funny,” Eric argued, shaking his head. “I never knew you were that ticklish man.”
“I’m not,” Adam insisted immediately, prompting Eric to fall into another round of laughter at the obvious denial. “Whatever. I get to get my revenge now, right? That was the deal.”
That shut him up. Eric sat up fully, subconsciously gripping his sides in preparation. “No, that was not the deal. The deal was that if you could last for two minutes then you could get me back. You only lasted for one minute and 45 seconds.”
“I rounded up.” Adam was grinning in a way that was wholly unsettling and Eric’s stomach dropped. “Now let’s see how you handle it, Effiong.”
Eric, as it turned out, was a screamer, and the two were quickly discovered and kicked out before anything serious could happen. When the two of them were saying goodbye, however, Adam managed to sneak a hand under Eric’s shirt when they were kissing and ghost his fingers quickly over his skin. It was a promise of a proper revenge yet to come, and between Eric’s nervous grin and Adam’s devious one, it was sure to be one he’d remember for a while.
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ljandersen · 3 years
Note
for the fanfic asks: 1, 4 with the title "lemon juice", 6, 7, and 12!
Oooh! Thank you for the ask! These questions are so much fun. This is from the Fanfic Writers Ask Game.
1. has a comment someone left on a fic of yours ever made you laugh out loud?
No, but I've been highly amused! I actually don't laugh out loud that much. My sister's the same way. A friend will watch a comedy with us, and at the end, be like, "You guys didn't like that?" We'll both cock our heads and be like, "What? We thought it was the most hilarious thing ever." "You didn't laugh."  I don’t know why. 
4. what would this fic be about, based on the title? (asker provides fake fic title) (x)
I had to take someone to pick up their car getting repaired, so I had a chance to think about "Lemon Juice," my fShenko one-shot that will never be. Imagine: Mass Effect 1, pre-relationship.  
Tumblr media
Lemon Juice
Adams says the SR-1's engine is sounding funny. They need to head back to Earth to have it in inspected. Since that's where the Normandy takes off for the shake down cruise, I'm envisioning that's where it was built. Since it's a prototype warship, it needs special handling. It will take a few days to investigate and fix.
Kaidan is excited. It aligns with his birthday. He hasn't been home for his birthday in years. It's the middle of summer in Vancouver. Perfect weather. He can go to the beach. His mom is making him a lemon meringue pie, his favorite. His dad keeps messaging him how eager he is to see Kaidan.
But then the SR-1 breaks down before it reaches Earth. They have to swing into the nearest Alliance outpost. It's this icy volcanic world with lightening and constant sleet. The engineers are going to have to come from Earth to this little dumpy outpost to fix the engine here. 
Shepard knows how excitedly Kaidan was looking forward to stopping on Earth. Ash and the other crew mates notice him looking a bit droopy. They ask if he’s okay, of course, and he says he's fine. It's no big deal.
So Shepard drags him out for a drink, despite his protests. He wants to help with the engineer repairs. "No, no. It's your birthday. I buy every officer a beer on his birthday."
Instead of swerving into the seedy little outpost bar, Shepard pulls him into the mako. After a ride, where he fears his tombstone will have one date with two different years, they arrive at the edge of a lava field.
Surprise! Tali, Garrus, Wrex, Ash, Joker, Chackwas, and a bunch of other crew are there. They have parkas on. Garrus set up a lightening rod a safe distance away. The sleet is coming down, soft like snow, no real bother. The area is lit up by the lava field.
It's no sunny Vancouver beach. They're not Alenko's, but they’re a second family. Just as Shepard said, they have drinks. Shepard gives him a beer and squeezes a lemon into it. She can't cook him a lemon meringue pie for more reasons than just not having the ingredients. That's the best she can do.
Kaidan gets to talk with his parents later that night on comm.  They’re disappointed but happy to hear about his time with the crew.  They say how aglow he looks talking about Shepard and the party.  It must have been a good time.
He goes to bed that night, and he's sure it's the best birthday's he's ever had. When life gives you a lemon, there's always lemonade.
Tada! "Lemon Juice." There you are!
6. what is your favourite sense to incorporate in your writing and why?
Smell. Sight, hearing, and touch are too common. Taste is trickier and can feel like a stretch. Smell is a great extra detail to add grounding.
7. what is you favourite sentence/paragraph? read it to us! (asker can choose what fic) (x)
I wouldn't say this is my favorite. I don't really pride myself on my prose to feel particularly proud of anything on the sentence level. I did write this paragraph recently into a posted chapter of "Sideways," and I felt like it chaptered Kadian's mom in a concise way I liked.
Ella was in the picture, Kaidan’s mom. Laugh lines and tight hugs. She smelled like green apples, folded their laundry when they weren’t looking, and gave out the secret family recipe like campaign flyers. She remembered every important date. Once, she showed up unexpectedly at their house. Kaidan was away on assignment, but she seemed to already know that. She insisted on cooking dinner. She gave Shepard side-hugs, chatted merrily, and stayed the night. It was only later Shepard realized the date. Mindoir. She was the only person, outside Kaidan and Avyn, who always told Shepard she loved her.
12. what headcanon will you keep implementing in your fics, even if canon ends up contradicting it?
I have a lot of headcanon around biotics that isn't canon. Maybe it even contradicts canon, but it works for my storytelling. Namely, I wanted to limit biotics (every superpower needs a limit for storytelling). I came up with biotic fatigue.  They can stretch themselves too far.  There are signs it’s becoming too much.  I think those are all important when you have a character with super powers and want action to have real stakes and tension.
I also headcanon being able to combine biotics for certain skills, like barriers.  I like the idea personal compatibility influences inherent biotic compatibility. In "Sideways" I've come up with several new biotic powers that definitely aren't canon. 
I'd say all in all, I've made my own version of biotics in a lot of ways.  It’s what lets me explore character relationships and keep high stakes in storytelling.
Thank you for the ask!!!
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kitkatopinions · 3 years
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I’m probably over thinking/over complicating things but Ironwood and Penny have been really bothering me. It because prior to the moment that destroyed Penny’s arc the show and Ruby were really pushing that Penny not matter her body was human and that’s a very positive I like that especially when it comes to characters of Penny’s nature.
So my problem kicks in when I think of Ironwood. Namely this part in his song:
“What if it's true as they say
That I don't have a heart
That I'm more a machine than a man?”
Like wtf. I mean I “get it” especially with that dumbass line of Winter. But when it’s talked about Ironwood it was always in reference to the fact that his body is half robotic and there for we are meant to see the correlation between his body and his character.?
Put next to Penny’s message that really bothers me. Even more so since Penny gets a “reward” of becoming human, but the writers push that Ironwood sacrificing his arm to stop Watts and replacing it (a medical decision that could be debated given that he wanted to be up and able immediately to handle things not to mention that fact that nerves and muscle are severely fucked up) with a new (uncharacteristically uncovered) prosthetic means that he’s moving away from humanity. This thought has been driving nuts for a week.
I don’t think you’re overthinking at all. The writers have been pretty blatant about what they think of disabled people.
On the topic of James, 1. They wrote their triple amputee character to be coded as losing his humanity. This is suspect from the get go, but writers imo need to be especially careful and sensitive when they display things like villains with prosthetics. CRWBY is not careful and sensitive. 2. They specifically connected the loss of his limb to the loss of his humanity outside of the show, and as you said, his new prosthetic is uncharacteristically uncovered as well, and there were some pointed shots showcasing his arm and emphasizing it before showing Ironwood doing something wrong as well as a shot that particularly bothered me of them having James fall to Winter when his aura broke and then them immediately flashing to a fallen, broken robotic soldier. Tying the loss of someone’s humanity to them losing a limb / gaining a prosthetic in any way is wrong imo. There are better ways to display someone’s loss of humanity than villainizing the loss of his arm, and I don’t care what justifications people have for ‘they just meant to say that he was too impatient to-’ Idc. Tying the loss of humanity to the gaining of a prosthetic is wrong. 3. They never once treated Ironwood’s clear PTSD, history of mental health problems, and trauma with any sympathy, instead spending their time ragging on him for not wanting to feel his pain anymore and condemning him for... Trying to control his emotions. 4. CRWBY also gave him a semblance and explained how it worked by saying he hyper focused, talking about how James’ passive semblance that he can’t control forces him to focus on one single goal and fixate. I’m not disabled, but I do hyper fixate. It’s not something I can control, and to see it used as a justification for evil (in one of my favorite characters in the series who reminded me of my father lol) and being treated as something bad... It doesn’t feel good. I can’t imagine how other people must feel who are much more affected by this than I am. 5. As you say, the writers go out of their way to reference his metal body as being more ‘machine than man’ and make lines about him being heartless. And yeah, I get that he’s an allegory for the ‘Tin Man’ from Wizard of Oz but ffs the Tin Man had always had a heart and I honestly thought that was what they were going for in V3 with Qrow commenting that sometimes he thought James didn’t have a heart and the audience seeing Ironwood’s actions as questionable, only for the entire show to tell us repeatedly that he actually is a caring and good person who’s willing to destroy all the forces he was proud to show off if it means saving lives and was actually pretty freaking blameless in the Fall of Beacon and was super kind to the kids and when the chips were down, Qrow and Glynda both absolutely knew without even questioning that James would never ever willingly hurt the world or fully betray them and had absolutely no hand in the Beacon attack. Like, I’m sorry, but between Penny and Ironwood, season eight is the season of taking well done character allusions and throwing them out the window for the exact opposite moral done incredibly poorly. And anyway, getting off of that rant, making a ‘more machine than man’ sentiment tied around a triple amputee character is incredibly harmful and hurtful to people with disabilities and only propagates the real world stereotypes against people like James.
So, yes, their treatment of Ironwood, his mental health, and specifically his disabilities was so badly done, harmful, incredibly insensitive, and frankly, appalling that it came from grown adult writers in 2019-2021! But, as you point out, it’s not just Ironwood. And here’s where things really get bad for CRWBY. Because Ironwood alone is enough for me to say they were ableist - unintentionally or otherwise - and ought to apologize for the hurt they’ve caused their fans. But when you get into the rest of their treatment of characters with metal prosthetics or non-flesh elements to their body, it becomes a pattern.
Penny’s entire body is removed from her on threat of death, with the justification that it’s hurting her and that her body is just a machine and not part of who she is, contradicting Penny’s earlier themes of self-acceptance and validating her humanity in the body she already had. She then dies by assisted suicide in a way that feels unneeded, after having asked to be killed earlier in the narrative. So many people have talked about how destructive her story became in V8 and how it personally hurt them, especially non-binary people, trans people, autistic people, or disabled people who saw themselves in Penny or saw in her arc something that they could relate to, only to have Penny’s differences stripped away from her, having her conform to normal body standards and have her previous body type invalidated by her friends, and then they had her killed via assisted suicide in an unbelievable way, insisting as well that she never made a choice before she was a flesh-person and couldn’t feel things right. It’s all horribly done, but it’s important to remember that while Ironwood is accused of losing his humanity as he loses a third limb and gets a third prosthetic, Penny’s earlier validation is taken away and is instead only granted and she is only justified as a person when she loses all her ‘nuts and bolts’ and becomes a flesh person. And then she’s killed anyway.
Yang’s prosthetic is the least ill handled, but it is still dismissed as ‘just extra’ despite her former fairly strong arc of coming to terms with her disability and making it a part of her. She casually justifies what’s happening with Penny despite Penny not being in a position of adequate consent. Yang’s trauma and PTSD also vanished when Adam died at the end of season six and in my opinion, that situation was handled very badly.
Maria and Pietro, two other disabled characters, disappeared, left when Amity fell and were not even mentioned iirc since. Not even when Penny is awake, not even when they’re evacuating, not even when Penny is choosing to die. She never brings up her father. And Ruby’s supposed ‘mentor’ who never had an actual narrative role that couldn’t have been filled by Qrow and has had nothing to do since season six even past that is also forgotten out in the tundra and not mentioned again.
The writers go out of their way to have Winter say that because she was just following orders (a statement that contradicts her previous character imo) and pushing down her emotions, she was the real machine, whereas Penny had been human underneath her apparently easily tossed aside and destructive previous metal body.  And I don’t know if this means anything, but in that scene where she and Penny meet when Penny is dying and transferring the maiden powers to Winter, Winter is in her V7 character design, instead of wearing her assistive brace. Like I said, I don’t know if I’m reading into that, but with everything else, it feels like an iffy choice.
So yeah. In the past season CRWBY specifically cultivated a pattern of disrespect, dismissal, and villainization of any non-flesh attributes in my opinion. It seems pretty intentional and clear to me, but I’m willing to accept that maybe this was just a wildly bad uneducated mistake. Here’s the thing about that, though, after the Faunus/Racism allegory, the CRWBY writers should’ve learned their lesson and not touched on any real world topics that they weren’t willing to do the research on and treat with the sensitivity and care and respect the topics needed. Their Faunus/Racism allegory was harmful and hurtful and frankly could’ve sunk them in the water, they should’ve learned to put much more care and effort into their work or stayed the hell away from anything that could further spread the negative stereotypes surrounding real world people. But they didn’t learn their lesson and they’ve continued to push harmful narratives with no awareness or sensitivity. I don’t think you’re over-reacting at all, I think this is something that - intentionally written or otherwise - the writers should be called out on, or they’re just going to continue writing harmful narratives.
Also, I am not disabled, many of my opinions on the treatment of these characters comes from posts I’ve seen from many disabled or neurodivergent RWBY fans (or former RWBY fans,) or other people more affected by these narratives - minus the thing I said about Winter appearing without her brace when she talks to Penny, as it was something I just noticed while typing out this post. Since I’m not disabled, I’m not the best person to talk about these things, so if I got anything wrong in this, anyone more affected, please know you can let me know and I can edit and fix.
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prettyboyreid · 4 years
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Spencer Reid x reader and the reader owns her own pottery shop where she sells the things she makes and hold classes on making pottery and the team comes in one day to relax and make some pots?? Maybe Spencer struggles more than everyone else and reader helps him and is super encouraging
my favorite piece of art
Spencer Reid x Reader
word count: 1,525
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You flipped the sign at the front of your shop to “OPEN” once you watched the clock on the front wall hit 10:00 AM, wiping your hands on your smock as you made your way back to the front desk.  It was a special day today, because Spencer had taken it upon himself to make it a team bonding day at your pottery shop.  He had wanted his team to meet you for a while, and he figured it would be best if they met you in your shop; it was the best way to introduce them to what you do.
Just as your boyfriend had insisted, him and his team began filing into your small shop promptly after ten.  The first to arrive was Spencer, of course, and Penelope.  She insisted on coming in with him, just so she could meet you first.  She wore a bright top and a pair of worn down jeans, which was just about perfect for what you had suggested.  Spencer - as you had expected - had worn his usual attire: a button-up shirt and a pair of khaki pants.  
“Oh my God, you must be Y/N!” she said excitedly, making her way over to you quickly before wrapping her arms around you.  You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at how forward she was, hugging her back for a moment before she pulled away.  “I’m Penelope.  Oh, you look so much prettier in person!  Not that you weren’t pretty in the pictures he showed us,” she rambled slightly, only causing you to grin. 
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Penelope,” you said, smiling softly over at your boyfriend.  “I can get you two some smocks and set you up at a wheel while we wait for everyone else?” you suggested, heading to the hooks where you kept all of the smocks for customers to use. 
Emily and Aaron arrived next.  He had brought along his son, Jack, who smiled brightly and wondrously the second he entered the shop.  They greeted you immediately, not with quite as much enthusiasm as Penelope but still with smiles.  Jack excitedly looked around at the different pots and vases you had on display, making it very clear to anyone around him that he couldn’t wait to make one too. 
Rossi came with Morgan, both of them discussing something about cars as they arrived.  Derek, just as Spencer had warned you on multiple occasions, was quick to flirt with you.  Despite everyone knowing it was playful, you couldn’t help but smile as Spencer snuck up beside you and snuck his arm around your waist.  
Jennifer arrived last with her husband Will, both of them chattering and laughing with each other.  They greeted you with bright beautiful smiles, complimenting the workshop that you had worked on for the past five years. 
It didn’t take you long to get everyone set up.  You had made sure to place all of the wheels in a circular shape so they could all still talk to one another, making sure they all had slabs of clay before showing them how to use the throwing wheels.  They all seemed to be quick learners, but the resident genius seemed to have a few struggles. 
“Come on, pretty boy, just hold down on the pedal,” Morgan teased him, keeping his hands and the clay damp as he began to mold it into his desired shape.  Spencer did as he was told, but used the full force of his foot to step on the little pedal.  You couldn’t help but giggle as flecks of wet clay flew onto his face and smock, his face contorting into a confused frown before you got up and made your way over to him. 
“Here, Spence,” you said, sliding onto the stool in his place to show him how to use it.  You pressed lightly onto the pedal, making it go at different speeds as you demonstrated.  “Just… don’t overthink it,” you encouraged him, kissing a clean spot on his cheek before you returned to your seat.  You grinned as you noticed his cheeks tinting pink, and Morgan nudged him playfully with a grin. 
They all shaped their little pottery creations as they joked around with each other, simultaneously making more of a mess than a group of second graders you had a few weeks back.  But you could feel the love and happiness they all radiated together.  It brightened up the room and covered you with a warm feeling, one that you really only felt with Spencer. 
It was nice. 
Hotch, Emily, and Derek all made little bowls.  Emily said she wanted hers for a candy dish on her desk, Derek wanted his for cereal, and Jack said his dad wanted his for soup.  Rossi, Penelope, and Will made key dishes, though Penelope claimed that hers was for putting her favorite little unicorn on display by her computers.  Jennifer, Jack, and Spencer all made vases, though Spencer’s was caved in a bit and slightly lopsided.  He was very proud of it, nonetheless. 
They all decided they would come back in a few days so they could come back and glaze them, all of them helping clean up the place a bit as you loaded their art into the kiln.  You came back into the studio to see them cleaning and wiping down the wheels, still smiling and joking around while they did it.  It was quite admirable of them, if you were being honest.  They were hot shots that had much more important jobs than you, but were still humble enough to help clean up the mess they had made. 
They insisted on taking me out to dinner with them, since I didn’t close the workshop until six.  They told me where to meet them and at one time, bidding me farewell and thanking me for the use of my workshop.
Spencer was adamant on spending his free day with me, even if it was just hanging out in the almost empty shop all day.  He sat at the front desk with me, looking through all of the different pictures of art and pieces of art I had filed away.  Despite being a man of science, he seemed to find a fascination and admiration for art.  (In all honesty, you thought that he only said that since he started dating you, but you thought it was cute either way.)
Since Spencer was staying with you for the day, you wanted to surprise him with a vase he had made a while back with you that you had never gotten around to actually firing.  He had glazed it the last time he had a day off, and while he hadn’t seen it yet, he had been very proud of it.  When you retrieved it from the back room, he smiled brightly at the glossy finish it had.  It looked a lot like the one he had just made shape wise, but it had a baby blue glaze mixed with drops of violet glaze all over it.  
He smiled brightly as soon as he saw it, taking it in his hands and examining it the same way he looked at his dissertation on engineering.  However, whenever he gets excited, he becomes a little clumsy, as we all know.  He got up to go wrap the vase before his slightly sweaty hands dropped it onto the tile floor, and you watched as his face dropped quickly.  
“I’m so sorry,” was his immediate reaction, leaning down to pick up the large pieces that he had dropped moments before.  He moved to throw them away before you rested your hand on your shoulder, taking the pieces from him and setting them on the desk before digging through your drawers.
“When my mom went to Japan,” you began to explain to him, getting out some glue from the middle drawer before applying some of the industrial glue to the edges, carefully holding them against each other as the glue quickly dried.  “She told me that instead of throwing out broken vases, some of them would glue them back together.”  You quickly were able to restore the vase, smiling up at him before grabbing some gold enamel from the drawer as well.  
“They also add a little bit of some enamel to the cracks, to make them stand out a bit,” you explained, generously applying the enamel.  “Some argued that it even made the vases more beautiful than they were before,” you finished, setting down a small paintbrush you had used to cover the cracks.
You looked up at Spencer, who had watched you intently with a smile before looking back to the vase.  “This has got to be my second favorite piece of art in the world,” he said dramatically, inspecting it a bit closer without touching it.
“Oh, really?” you teased, wiping your hands off on your smock.  “What’s your first?  The Golden Ratio?” you joked, looking up at him from your seat on the stool.
“Nope,” he said, not looking away from the vase as he looked at all the little imperfections you had perfected for him. “You are.”
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angeltrapz · 3 years
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helo beloved mutual connor, im sorry ur goin thru it rn but i come bearing asks n a heart emoji (💗): bcuz i have had this thought floatin around for a lil bit, wld love 2 hear ur takes on an Adam/Eric/Mallick (+ Art too if u want!) road trip vacation! how long wld they go, do they get motels or camp or just sleep in th car? whats everyone's favorite road trip snack? what sorta shit do they like 2 stop for? (weird tourist traps like giant balls of yarn etc, small town main street stores, cool looking restaurants, nature sites, Actual Destinations, so on n so forth!)
fjkdsd thank u beloved mutual adam,,, <3
ohhh I love tht idea!! road trip fics/hcs are one of my weaknesses,,
but um!! I rly like the idea of th four of them going camping a few hours up north!! (we... don't rly know where. SAW is set so just. imagine a vaguely rural campground lmao. I'm used to camping in th upper peninsula of MI so) it's smth tht Art did a lot w his family when he was growing up, so he's th most familiar w it - Eric went a few times as a kid too, Mallick went Once, n Adam has never rly been camping, w his family or otherwise (he's slept on a trampoline at one of his friends' houses once tho). Art is p excited abt it tbh, it's not exactly smth he gets 2 do often so he's got this whole list planned of things he wants 2 show them!!
it's easiest 2 just take a week in late August, bc they can head back home on a Friday n have the weekend to settle n readjust b4 th coming week + they have to go back 2 work. so they head out around ten on a Monday morning 2 kind of get ahead of th traffic (or at least try to). Art drives both bc he insists and bc he knows they can switch if he needs to, which he does later w Eric. it's a good couple hours (at least 3) b4 they get 2 th campground Art wants to take them to, so clearly it is Music Time + Adam made sure 2 bring CDs! a lot of that time is just spent vibing 2 th music and singing very, very loudly (ESP on Adam + Mallick's end). Art's up front like u three are so fucking goofy (affectionate), but eventually he starts singing too lmao.
Mallick starts th Colour Game, where they try 2 find a car fr every colour of th rainbow. it's smth Eric is familiar w as well bc he used 2 play it w Daniel sometimes, and it's good until they come to purple bc how often do u see purple cars??? so Adam's just like "we're not gonna find pink either" n tht's when this fucking pink pickup truck (noticeably spray-painted, + not done well) passes them n Adam just groans n thumps his head against th window. Mallick is like, trying rly hard not to laugh by pressing a hand over his mouth + Art is biting his lip, but Eric is very openly cackling bc "u see what happens when u assume???" (he gets a very light slap 2 th shoulder but it's still very gentle)
ANYWAY. favourite snacks!! Adam can eat Way Too Many Sour Patch Kids. sour anything, actually, as long as it's candy. yes his tongue hurts and no he doesn't regret it. Eric just gets goldfish bc he tends 2 get a lil carsick + bc it's a food tht's familiar n comforting, n he doesn't rly want 2 be eating anything Too heavy (he's up front w Art, so he can sit by a window in case he needs some fresh air at any point). Mallick likes m&m's, but he switches fr cheez-its every once in a while bc he can only eat so much chocolate. Art likes those peanut-butter filled pretzel bites! he's also partial 2 animal crackers tho. they also bring a good amount of snacks/things they can b sure th four of them like, bc yeah there's a lil store abt a half hour away frm their campsite + they can go there to pick up things if they need 2, but it's easier 2 bring things they like, too. (there's also a mcdonald's in tht town n. they do go there at LEAST twice.)
th campsite they stay at has a lake + a beach, n one of Art + Adam's fave things 2 do is walk along it to see if they can find anything interesting! Mallick goes sometimes too, but mostly he stays w Eric bc Eric can't do tht fr as long as Adam + Art can (not tht he's resentful of it tho). he n Mallick chill on th beach w a blanket (it's kind of like. not necessarily sandy?) n just kinda sit against/lay on each other n read sometimes. Adam + Art come back 2 where they're set up to find them sleeping n Adam has never been more thankful he thought 2 bring his camera!!
on th second day Art + Mallick want 2 go swimming, so th four of them come back out to th beach, but Adam stays out of th water + Eric stays w him. they both know th water will be cold, even if it's late summer, n Adam rly doesn't like being in cold water ESP if it's over his head/he can't touch th bottom. fr Eric th cold can b kind of painful, so they chill n walk along th beach fr a little bit n just talk. Adam gets some good pictures n even gets some of Eric! he also does take a selfie of them, he can't help it. he gets a couple of Mallick + Art too. it's honestly such a nice thing fr them n it just feels like they can breathe easy, not having 2 worry abt looking over their shoulders constantly (tho they're all getting better abt that).
th third day they spend around th campsite to kind of unwind n relax. they might walk th beach a little bit again, but mostly they just sorta chill n walk some of th trails around the campground itself. when night falls they light a small bonfire (Mallick is still iffy around fire, understandably) n they sit around it in their folding chairs w th cupholders (Adam gets red, Eric has green, Art gets blue, + Mallick gets dark green) n make s'mores. they talk abt anything n everything until they're barely able 2 keep their eyes open, n then after making sure th fire is pretty much out they kinda just stumble into th tent n none of them r awake for very long after (they specifically got one tht cld comfortably hold th four of them).
fourth day!! they pack up n head into another little town about 45 minutes away; it's bigger than th one around th campgrounds. after they get situated in a motel room w two beds, they do some window shopping + going into lil stores that interest them! Adam def buys some niche graphic tees tht aren't going 2 make sense to anyone other than th four of them n he's delighted abt it. I like 2 think Eric gets a worry stone, specifically made out of rose quartz. Mallick too, but his is made of amethyst! he also gets a rly cool multicoloured jacket in a thrift store they duck into. Art gets a hoodie w th town's name on it n he's pretty happy w that. they get a few more lil things, just little knick-knacks while they're there, n then they have dinner in this lil diner they'd walked past earlier bc it's inexpensive + the atmosphere is very lowkey n honestly just Nice. there's not a bunch of ppl, the servers r rly kind n the lights aren't too bright, which Eric rly appreciates. it's such a tender moment bc they're squeezed into a booth, Adam + Mallick on one side n Art + Eric on th other, n they're talking n laughing n stealing bites of each other's food n it's Comfortable.
then they head back to th motel n channel surf while unpacking enough 2 get to their sleep clothes. Adam + Eric r sharing a bed n Art + Mallick r sharing th other one, tho Adam is very tempted 2 just push them together so they're all close by (th distance btwn th beds isn't tht big to begin with, but it's the principle of th thing). mostly tho, until they go to bed, they're pretty much just all stretched out Everywhere. Adam is only discouraged frm jumping across th divide btwn th beds bc Art breaks out his Lawyer Voice, despite trying rly hard not to laugh, to say Yr Going To Hurt Yrself, Don't Do That. he grumbles n whines abt it but Adam knows he's right jdhjks (th way he sees it is like. he can b silly sometimes. he's Earned It, but he also trusts Art + wasn't super serious abt tht idea). eventually tho Eric can hardly keep his eyes open n Mallick is just straight up asleep while he's still sitting up so tht's when they all go to bed after making sure every1 is comfortable. they leave a lamp on.
fifth day they pack everything up again n stop 2 walk th trails of this lil park b4 they head home! there's a lil shop near th parking lot so they spend a lil bit of time looking around in there first. they probably pick up a few lil things, souvenirs, n Adam walks around 2 get some pictures. he gets this rly cool one while they're on a bridge, th sun peeking thru the clouds a lil bit n shining down on th water. he's super excited to develop tht one (but he's excited to develop All of them, bc this is his family!!!) + he n Art discuss whether or not they're gonna need another cork board lol. eventually tho they round back to th parking lot n on th way home, they stop at another lil hole-in-th-wall kind of place, but it's just as nice as the first one they'd been to. after tht Eric switches spots w Art n he drives them home!!
they're all exhausted when they get back but they have room to crash w each other while they nap so tht's what they do. they fall asleep all tangled together, Art stretched out w Eric's head on his chest, Adam curled against Eric's back, n Mallick w his head on Art's stomach. there r arms n legs everywhere n tht is okay. they're happy. they love each other. they had a lot of fun on their trip n they're tired, but they're comfortable!! tht's what it's all abt!!! it's just such a good n relaxing experience fr them after all th shit they've been thru.
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canyouhearthelight · 4 years
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The Miys, Ch 97
We are inching closer and closer to the moment we’ve been waiting for in this story arc!  As a result, you may notice the chapters getting longer.
No worries, though. We will return to your regularly schedule fluff and nonsense soon enough ;)
Thanks go out to @baelpenrose, @zommbiebro, and @creakingcryptid for giving me such amazing ideas and characters to play with in this chapter, and extra thanks to Bael for beta reading and helping with this chapter and a few more to come.
The next gathering of Jokul’s ‘followers’ was roughly a week away.  I tried my hardest to focus on work, and if Tyche noticed that I was asking to spar much more than usual, she didn’t say anything about it. Maverick and Conor avoided asking about what happened at my meeting with Antoine, instead putting their energy into making sure I remembered to eat in the midst of everything.  I was more than halfway convinced that they were conspiring with Charly and Alistair, as well, due to the sheer volume of attempts made to offer me food while I was at work.
Further worsening my anxiety was the fact that I had no clue how much of it Xiomara knew.  She had been adamant that I keep my nose out of things, but here I was, neck deep in intrigue.  There was no way of telling in our day to day interactions, since she was as inscrutable as ever - businesslike and brisk in Council meetings, relaxed and friendly outside of work.  Even as I reminded myself that speaking about things openly would endanger me again, along with Antoine this time, I still found myself frustrated beyond belief. At no point in my life had I so much as fleetingly wanted to be, much less imagined being, a spy and yet here I was.
Halfway through my shift the day of the gathering, I sent a grateful Alistair home.  I wasn’t at all fooled by his forced patience: he had been one breath away from throwing a cup at me all morning.  Once he left, I signalled Simon, Arthur, and Parvati to my office. Ostensibly, this was a discussion of the potential for new Galactic courses being added to the curriculum.
In reality, we were planning a war of sorts.
Once everyone was seated, I nervously cleared my throat. “So, I know I invited you all here to discuss possibly adding Galactic Art History electives.  And I swear, that is actually on the books to discuss.” Carefully, I pulled out a device identical to the one I had seen Xiomara use, and switched it on. Simon’s eyes widened, while Parvati’s rolled freely. Arthur didn’t so much as blink. “Everything we are about to discuss stays in this room, no exceptions. I am not sure how much of this Xiomara knows, and nobody but us will know the entire plan. Is that understood?” I waited for confirmation before I continued. Once I had it, I took a deep breath and soldiered on. “Tonight, the four of us will be attending a gathering of Jokul Bjornson and his followers. I am doing this at the request of a member of that organization, whom I trust with not only my life but those of this entire ship.  However, contrary to past actions, I’m not an idiot. I negotiated to have someone there as backup, someone unknown to the member of that organization and unknown to be aligned with me.”
“We’re all three associated with you,” Simon ventured slowly. “Openly, even.”
I nodded. “Arthur will be in disguise. I’ve seen it, it’s good. I didn’t even recognize him.”
“But you need all three,” Parvati eyed me carefully.
“Simon is a decoy: someone known to be associated with me, very recognizable,” I gestured to him. “However, Simon, I just need you to be yourself, ask questions, look interested. If you see me, ignore me openly. Worst case scenario they will either ask you to leave or be forced to let you stay as my ‘backup’, okay?”
He nodded firmly with a determined look on his face. “I can do that.”
“Awesome,” I smiled before turning to Parvati. “Parvati, you’ll be the wild card. Yes, you are dating my fellow Councilor. However, you are also well known for speaking against the status quo, and that’s what this bunch thinks they are doing. Dazzle, keep your ears open, and keep them confused if you are there as my backup or not. Got it?”
She nodded solemnly before flashing a grin. “Performance art. I like it.”
I winked at her. “Got it in one. Arthur will be my actual back up, in disguise, being disgustingly friendly and agreeable with Jokul’s followers to the extent he can keep from vomiting. Something isn’t right in this so-called organization, so the goal behind this meeting is that my contact thinks that they and myself can talk some sense into Jokul.”
“Good luck on that,” Arthur muttered.
 That evening, Antoine and I approached the location where Jokul’s ‘followers’ were gathering.  Despite myself, I expected it to be some secret, dimly lit and clandestine location in the lower levels of the ship, near the Archives.  My mind even supplied it with a dirt floor and flickering torches, cult members gathered in robes, muttering chants or prayers.  Exactly one of those things was accurate, and I was surprised even that much was.  We arrived on one of the lower levels, at least. But we arrived at a rarely-used general mess.
Jokul’s group was gathering in a public cafeteria. It didn’t even have doors.
I bit back a groan and made a mental note to let Xiomara know her intelligence agents sucked.  Anyone could have just wandered past here, found them, and been done with this entire situation.  I scolded myself and focused on the fact that anti-climactic was good.  Less hurty, less dying involved.
Casually, I glanced around the room, making sure to take everything in and not let my gaze stop on any one person.  I had to trust that the others either had already arrived or would soon enough. “This isn’t quite what I expected,” I told Antoine quietly.
He smiled. “You have a very active imagination, so I am sure the reality did not measure up.”
“I’m going to remember that comment. My ‘active imagination’ is where some of your favorite meals come from.”
“So long as I am invited to family dinners again, I will eat whatever you put in front of me,” he sighed before glancing over his shoulder when a peal of laughter rang through the air.
Following his line of sight, I saw exactly what I expected: Parvati, this time in white slacks and a sweeping purple vest with gold details, holding court and charming suspicious cult members with what I presumed were tales of her days abolishing institutions. “Somehow I am not surprised she is here,” I muttered.
“She is dating Xiomara, is she not?”
“I think so? They don’t talk about it much,” I shrugged before reminding him. “However, she also was a guerilla protest artist and very vocal opponent of both the Baconists and the plutocracy.”
He arched a brow at me. “Is she the person you insisted on bringing?”
“I’m not even sure she can fight,” I evaded carefully. “And I would hardly invite someone so high-profile to be my super-secret back up.”
“Hmm,” he mused before just a bare hint of a smile. “No, but she is a wonderful distraction.”
He’s on your side, I reminded myself as an icy trickle of fear shot between my shoulderblades. “She’s not my back up plan, Antoine.”
That annoying half-smile stuck around, unfortunately. However, before he could say anything, a booming voice rang out. “Sophia Reid!  How daring that you walk directly in here, like a rabbit wandering into a wolf’s den!” I cringed at the awkward simile. He was trying so hard to be impressive. “Have you finally swallowed your cowardice and come to confront me without your human shields to save you?”
As Jokul approached, I glanced at Antoine.  Before I could say anything, I was cut off. “Oh no, Sophia, Antoine Costa is mine now. I have prized him away from your side, showing him the truth of what you are doing to him and everyone on this ship.”
“Feeding them?” I asked in confusion, leading to a scowl from Antoine. “What!?”
“Jokul, I brought Sophia here so the two of you could speak, face to face. My hope is, if the two of you understand each other better, this conflict can be resolved,” Antoine explained in his most calming, matter of fact tone.
Jokul spoke again, but I barely paid attention. I was distracted by a rolling gait rapidly approaching, paired with an ominous and excited - gods I hope that’s just excitement - chuckle. If “Solozo” wasn’t rubbing his hands together in pure glee, I knew he at least wanted to. “ - cannot even deign to pay attention to her betters!”
I snapped my gaze up to his face, which had nearly purpled in rage. “I sincerely apologize,” I ground out. “I have hearing problems, actually, so I was trying to figure out what you were saying without asking you to repeat yourself. It’s embarrassing when I have to do that, honestly.” I frowned and tilted my head to emphasize my point. “It helps if you speak slower and don’t raise your voice, unfortunately.”
Jokul startled, though whether it was at my admission of a potential weakness or the fact that I had pretty much asked him to talk to me like I was an idiot, I wasn’t sure. Gathering himself and resetting the sneer on his face, he carefully enunciated. “There is no conflict to resolve.  You want to be a tyrant, and this harmless mask you wear will not fool anyone for much longer.”
He really did think he was the hero, and my heart actually broke a little bit. “All I want to do is meet with you, in relative privacy. You and me, obviously, and two witnesses each to prevent any accusations of undue influence. You pick yours, I pick mine. And we talk.  Just that.” I tried. I really did.
“Pah!” he spat. “So you can try to poison me with your words like you have so many?” The irony of that statement actually caused me physical pain when I restrained my laughter. “If you want to negotiate with me, you may either surrender and step down from Council and any other positions of leadership, or you can fight me as equals.”
Before I could respond, laughter erupted to my left. When I turned toward the sound in time to see Solozo bracing himself on my shoulder with one hand, the other clenching his chest. “I can’t, I just can’t… Stop, please.  This is… Fuck. Just stop. Oh gods,” he gasped for a couple breaths before standing straighter. “I just can’t keep watching this. For starters, ‘equals’ is not the same thing as ‘intelligent woman who got elected without her knowledge and the moron who saw Vikings and based his whole life and personality around it. Number one. Number two, she came in here offering an olive branch, and you are reacting with fucking claymores. Very tacky. I’ll offer you one better, though: I heard from your followers here - they are chatty, by the way, wow - that you want to fight Sophia Reid’s pet warlord.”  He stood back and spread his arms. “I’m right here.”
Jokul looked confused, and I admit it was a fair reaction. Arthur still had his prosthetic stomach on, along with his makeup. To add to the air of ‘slob’, his button-down shirt was now untucked and hanging up to show an undershirt. “This? This is your champion, Sophia?”
Arthur glared before glancing down. “Right, you still think I’m overweight.” He reached behind his back and under his shirt slightly before the stomach deflated.  After tugging it loose and dropping it, he tried again. “I am Arthur Farro, Warlord of the Pacific Northwest. ‘Solozo’ is just a pseudonym I took from a character in The Godfather, and the fact that literally no one caught me on that says all of you have shit taste in movies.”
“Warlord of the Pacific Northwest?” I hissed. “Really!?”
He shrugged. “Guy’s file says he was a warlord, so it’s worth a shot. Maybe he’s heard of me. Or we had a skirmish.”
Jokul sneered some more, although I was starting to think that was just what his face looked like. “I will fight you, Arthur Farro, if only to show Sophia that she can hide all she wants and it will still never be enough.”
Even Antoine looked pained at the over-the-top antics.  I managed not to roll my eyes. Arthur didn’t even try.  “There is one catch,” he pointed out, holding one hand up to stop Jokul from speaking. “I win, you agree to have that chat Sophia specifically came here for.  If you win, she agrees to step down from the Council.”
I turned, eyes wide in alarm. “I can’t - “
Arthur just grabbed my wrist gently and shook his head. “She’ll step down from the Council if you beat me.”
Jokul considered this before adding, “And all positions of leadership. She can never hold one again.”
“Agreed,” Arthur nodded, sticking his hand out to shake on it.  As soon as that was done, he started to usher me toward the door. “Five days, Joke-kill?”
“It’s Jokul,” he growled. “And five days is suitable.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed as we made it through the door.
“Five days is traditional, Sophia. Travel time, rest, all that.”
“You are being - “
“Deliberately obtuse, yes. You’ve told me several times on various occasions. That idiot,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Doesn’t know you aren’t allowed to just resign from the Council without an elected replacement.  You’ve certainly tried enough times. Second, come ON! You can’t honestly tell me you don’t want to watch me humiliate him in full view of the ship.”
“Oh, this is not going to be public,” I shook my head hard enough to make myself dizzy. “We are keeping this quiet.”
“Which is exactly why everyone will know and want to see it.” When I groaned, he scolded me. “You can’t honestly believe that a challenge that was issued in front of at least a hundred people is actually going to be a secret.”
“Fuuuuuuck,” I groaned loudly.
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brokebuckkmountain · 3 years
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Today was the worst
(long rant ahead, mostly about workplace politics with irl problems sprinkled in for flavor)
So. I’ve already been in my feelings lately due to like: life sucking, it’s the plague times, I am struggling to find a psychiatrist despite being told it was imperative I get help immediately, it’s winter and winter makes me sad, I’m losing friendships left and right thx to Miss Rona, I hate my job, yesterday was the one year anniversary of my breakup, there’s tons of gossip about me at work for things I genuinely did not say, and some of my work buddies are ignoring me for no apparent reason (including my best friend who has been ignoring me since my literal birthday a month ago? It’s all her friends that are ignoring me to it’s hard not to think it’s something related to that). Also, those PMS mood swings are a bitch.
I wanted today to be a good day. I wanted to get up early. I wore my new clothes and new perfume and was excited to train a coworker I genuinely like who was never trained when she was hired a year ago and struggles to get through her shifts. I mean I volunteered to do it for free because she deserves the help. But no no. Today was not a good one.
-I was woken up at 3 am to a litany of text messages from an ex asking to hook up again. Promptly fell back asleep and missed my later alarm, causing me to have to skip my workout this am and rush my shower.
-My boss didn’t assign my trainee online learning or make a schedule, told me I was a “strong enough trainer” to just do what I felt needed to be done. That was all he said to me, no further instruction. This is important later. Trainers and trainees are considered non-coverage and I run into an issue with this everytime I train- shifts want us on the floor doing different tasks than what I’m actually teaching. I personally think being a little backed up for 30 minutes is preferable to new hires not knowing how to do things because they never got one on one time, but most supervisors think otherwise.
-My trainee and I had about 25 minutes until our joint lunch break. She had expressed to me that knowing more about the mechanics of coffee- what is the body of a shot, why does it expire, what’s the difference between blonde and regular- was helping her, so I decided 25 minutes whizzing through that part of training before lunch was fine. I was immediately chastised by someone we’ll call Manager 1 because that “isn’t part of the training”. It very much is, and is available on every training resource, it just never gets taught because of time constraints and corporate not really caring about coffee quality. Manager 1 has consistently made a scene every time I train a new hire over us doing training and not just whatever she wants to get done. Manager 1 is also known for berating almost every one, and has lied about altercations that never happened between me and customers before to our manager. So she’s not exactly a fan favorite of mine. I maintained that the coffee basics was part of training and returned to the back, planning to use that time to do coffee basics and more memory games for drink recipes.
-After about 5 minutes, my coworker came to the back and told me the two managers wanted us out there helping. I went out alone to tell Manager 2 (who was technically in charge and generally less awful) what we were working on and asked if they really needed us or if they’d be okay. She said they needed us and Manager 2 began snapping that we were floor coverage, that my trainee was supposed to be on the floor all day, and that she had no business in the back “staring at a computer screen” (which we were not doing, but I digress). Since this is about the fourth time I’ve had this issue with this particular manager, I responded that we were supposed to be doing whatever I felt needed to be done, not working the floor. When they maintained that they were “under the impression” from our boss that my trainee and I were to remain on the floor all day, and we were coverage, I said “I guess I got confused by the dashed lines on the schedule that signify non-coverage as us being non-coverage” and went to get my trainee.
-My trainee knew the situation because she had overheard, got super nervous, and started making drinks wrong that she had been making correctly all day. During this time I overheard Manager 1 and Manager 2 not-quietly discussing them both texting our boss to complain about me. Fair, I guess, since I planned on doing the same when I was on my lunch. At one point they both left the bar area to send their texts and squat by the safe while waiting for it to unlock (it’s on a timer and beeps when it’s ready, no need to hover) which only infuriated me more- they moved us to bar so they could leave it. When it was finally our lunch time I sent my trainee and was pulled aside by Manager 2. I tried to move the conversation to the break room (something I have always been adamant about- not publicly berating coworkers in front of others) but she stayed on the floor where multiple people were and reprimanded me for my bad attitude. I told her I was never instructed to stay on the floor, had a schedule, and would’ve been more flexible if they had actually spoken to me rather than yelling and demanding. She maintained that I had a bad attitude and needed to follow orders. I said, once again, “mutual respect goes both ways, if you want me to incorporate things into my training schedule then you need to have an actual conversation with me about it and not demand it at random”. She said that as my superior I wasn’t allowed to “talk back” (ignoring my point that they had both, indeed, begun yelling at me) and told me my bad attitude “wasn’t a good look” and that she didn’t feel I was understanding. I said I understood perfectly that I shouldn’t be rude, but that they shouldn’t yell at me either, and I wasn’t going to take unprofessional yelling to pull me off my job as a trainer. Manager 2 didn’t listen to a word I said and kept going “you can’t have an attitude, do you understand?” so after a period of staring at her silently I said “Can I clock out for my lunch now and proceed with training?” and walked away.
-After lunch I was able to continue training, only because that part of the training constituted us being on the floor helping. I apologized profusely to my trainee for putting her in that situation, reassuring her that regardless of who was in the “right” or the personal issues of the people on the floor, my first priority was her being able to successfully learn and feel comfortable. She told me she had a hard time focusing on drinks and was anxious after the scene, and that she felt the public reprimanding I received was far out of line and unprofessional. I told her I knew that, but being as it was two managers against one me, I would probably still receive a write up tomorrow morning and not to let it worry her when it did go down (tomorrow is our final day of training and my last day before a long break from work, so I know it’s going to happen in front of her). She said she would talk to my boss on my behalf and I told her not to worry, I didn’t want her pulled into workplace drama, but she insisted it wasn’t right (she is considerably older than everyone in the workplace and I think a little protective of me since we volunteered together and I’m the only one who doesn’t chastise her for small mistakes). We’ll see if she says anything tomorrow but I don’t want her to feel like she has to “go to bat” for me and involve herself in unnecessary drama against people who will lash out at her.
-While trying to clock out, I overheard Manager 2 trying to get other coworkers of mine to give accounts against our boss to his superior over not liking their scheduling. Perhaps I’m biased, because I am friends with my boss and literally vacationed with him this summer, but he is the type to listen to concerns and always give people the benefit of the doubt. I’ve never seen him give a write up and he bends over backwards to accommodate people. So whatever their issues are, something tells me they haven’t brought it up to him. Manager 2 frequently breaks safety protocols because she “doesn’t care if she gets Covid” and has vacationed out of state many times resulting in us not allowing her to come back to work and being short staffed. Despite this, I’ve never given my boss her name when he asks who is breaking safety protocols. Manager 2 is well known for being deeply unpleasant, her and my boss have been at odds for years from working together at another location, and has frequently tried to egg on other employees to get our boss in trouble while refusing to make any formal complaints herself. If you’ve been following for a while, she’s the same ass-kisser who used to say my old boss could break any rules she wanted and allowed herself to be constantly demeaned in hopes of a promotion (10 years without a promotion and she thinks it’s unfair rather than realizing she’s mean and unpleasant, chooses to attack the people who do get the promotions she wants). I know there’s a way to spin those two plotting against my boss as a way to cast some doubt on their accounts of me, but no way to do it without being a blatant shit disturber who’s just retaliating. Which is not how I want to live my life. But he deserves a heads up.
-Now I’m sitting at home with an arts and craft project I came up with to give my coworkers all a gift before the New Year and no desire to do it. Like, fuck these people, why should I do something nice for them? Even though I know the majority are good people, just not the ones in management. No energy, completely lethargic (yay depressive episode and still no antidepressants because I can’t get ahold of a goddamn psychiatrist even though my GP okayed the antidepressants herself), wishing I just could get a better job but I need the insurance at mine. It’s one thing to be constantly belittled and insulted by customers (and a very big thing, at that), but to get it from coworkers too just makes me feel awful, day in and day out. I know I’ve hated my job for the entire 3 and a half years I’ve been there and bemoaned how much less interwork drama I’ve had at every other job I’ve had (so I don’t think it’s all me, many agree it’s a toxic environment likened to a high school), but quitting a job you’re great at, passionate about (at times), live super close to, that gives you insurance, during a pandemic? Harder than it looks.
Life sux. Super anxious for tomorrow. Thanks for reading. Pls don’t reblog.
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chloebeale · 5 years
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ROCKABYE (1/1)
Summary: prompt fill for @unfamiliarsky “Bechloe: First baby’s first night at home”. Super soft and fluffy.
Words: 2.1K | Rating: G | ao3
For nine long, excruciating months, Beca has watched her wife struggle. She has stood by while Chloe has endured aches and pains, literal suffering.
(Okay, so maybe ‘suffering’ is a big word, but Beca does not like to see her wife in any kind of discomfort.)
The whole time, she thought that that was the hard part. That holding Chloe’s hair back while she projectile vomited last night’s dinner into the toilet, or rubbed her swollen feet until she could actually walk on them again were the hard parts. Not for Beca, of course. Beca has never minded taking care of Chloe. In fact, she likes it. She loves the other woman so fiercely, she really would do anything for her. But it’s been a hard nine months for Chloe, and Beca has truly hated that.
The last couple days had been difficult, too. Chloe in labor had been both terrifying and heartbreaking, and Beca really would’ve done anything to take her pain away, to help her in any way she could.
But then their baby had been placed in her wife’s arms, Beca standing closely beside them and looking down at the sweetest face she could possibly imagine, pride swelling inside of her, and she suddenly realized why people put themselves through this.
She had no idea, staring down at him awestruck through teary lashes, that the hard part was really only just beginning.
***
“Bec, are you sure you don’t want to take two trips?” Chloe asks, and despite the fact that she isn’t looking at her, Beca can picture the deep frown set on her face.
“Nope. I’ve got it,” Beca insists, though she struggles to aim the key properly at the lock on their front door, bags filled with both Chloe and Bradley’s things hanging from each arm and weighing down her tiny frame.
“You don’t look like you have it,” Chloe says, though she can’t exactly take over. If she didn’t have their baby held protectively in her arms, swaddled comfortably in his tiny blanket, she likely would’ve. All she can do is watch on as Beca fumbles with their items, finally jamming the key into the lock and mumbling a soft cheer of praise to herself under her breath.
She has no idea how adorable Chloe finds it.
“Okay, buddy,” Beca says, bags still hanging from her arms as she finally swings open the door, holding it for her wife and child to enter first, “Ready to see where you live?”
***
It’s a long day. A long, exhausting day. The other Bellas had joked beforehand that their baby was going to have Beca’s attitude, and it seems that they really weren’t wrong. Already, Bradley is incredibly demanding, incredibly loud, but man, he’s worth it. He’s so, so worth it, and Beca can’t help but think about just how lucky she is as she sits on the edge of she and Chloe’s mattress, peering curiously into the small bassinet stationed closely by her side.
Bradley has Chloe’s eyes. Maybe that’s not possible, because they’d gone about the pregnancy in a way that meant Chloe was literally carrying Beca’s baby. All of the sites had told them he would have very little of Chloe’s DNA, if any at all, but Beca finds that hard to believe, not when he has those big, blue eyes, ones that remind Beca so strongly of her wife. She thinks his hair could be kind of on the auburn side, too. Not that she can see it properly with his little hat on, and Beca loses herself for a moment as she carefully reaches out to lift it up, just to take a quick peek.
“Is he awake?” Chloe asks, her voice soft from the doorway. She begins to pad quietly into the room, the way she waddles some telling Beca she might still be feeling a little uncomfortable. She really wishes she could take that away from her.
“No,” Beca shakes her head, hand moving away from the baby. “I was just fixing his hat.”
Chloe’s gentle laugh sounds from under her breath, her voice still a little hoarse from the way she’d screamed not so subtly throughout the labor yesterday. “His hat was fine, Bec,” she says, tone still quiet, still soft. She moves cautiously around the bed, careful not to step on the floorboard that usually creaks, and lowers herself slowly down onto the mattress beside Beca, a hand rising to settle comfortingly on her wife’s arm.
“You’re adorable, did you know that?”
Finally, Beca’s gaze breaks from the tiny human in the bassinet, line of sight training itself on Chloe. Her brow arches, and the amused smile on the other woman’s balm covered lips tells her she has more to say.
“You were just saying an hour ago how badly you wished he’d sleep. And now that he’s sleeping, you’re trying to wake him up again?”
“I’m not trying to wake him,” Beca scoffs, brows tugging tightly together. “I just...” There’s no point in lying to Chloe, no point in putting up a front. Beca is usually kind of guarded, one to keep her feelings to herself, but it seems that’s impossible when it comes to her wife, and even more so with their baby. “I just miss him,” she shrugs, “That’s all.”
“And you know what?” Chloe’s hand trails its way down Beca’s arm, soft skin against soft skin, until long fingers are looping comfortably around her own, a feeling Beca is sure she’ll never stop appreciating. “Give it another hour, then he’ll be awake again. Right now, he’s sleeping, and we should be, too.”
Beca allows herself another glance into the bassinet, before finally letting a small sigh escape through her parted lips, head nodding once. “You’re right. Who knew one little baby could be this much work, huh?”
She feels Chloe’s grip on her hand loosen, before she’s letting go all together, the mattress dipping slightly as the redhead flops back against it. “Tell me about it.”
Beca doesn’t miss the way Chloe’s face scrunches up with the impact of her soft landing, and a deep frown sets itself across her features as she twists her body to better face her. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy. You literally just pushed a human out of your body.”
“I’m not exactly jumping up and down on the bed,” Chloe retorts, eyes rolling playfully.
Chloe’s damp hair, only slightly towel dried after her shower, fans out on the bed like a halo around her, and it’s so easy for Beca’s frown to suddenly crumble away. She’s always so in awe of Chloe, always so mesmerized by her, but even more so now, even more so after seeing how strong she really is.
Not that Beca hadn’t known that already, but the past nine months have only proven that to her further.
It’s a cold evening, and Chloe is wearing an oversized cream colored sweater, the sleeves of which hang down as she lifts an arm to motion Beca closer, and she can’t help but feel just about as swaddled as Bradley as she leans into the embrace.
“You kind of smell like puke,” Chloe mumbles teasingly as she presses a gentle kiss into brunette hair. “I guess spit up is something we should probably get used to, huh?”
“Probably,” Beca agrees, lips pressing delicately against the soft skin of Chloe’s neck as she nuzzles her face in close. She’s almost too tired to even pull back, though she does, and begrudgingly pushes herself up from where she could very easily fall asleep laying against her wife, the small pout on Chloe’s lips conveying the same feeling of missing contact.
“I’ll be right back, clingy,” Beca teases, hand gently squeezing Chloe’s thigh, before pushing herself carefully up from the bed to go and change out of the clothes Bradley has spit up on a couple times already and into something to wear for bed.
They’re both exhausted, both already sleep deprived, so sex is the very last thing on either of their minds, but Chloe can still watch her wife as she slips out of today’s shirt, still appreciate the beauty that is the woman that she loves, the curves of her small waist, the dimples Chloe has peppered kisses along so many times before...
“I know you’re watching me,” Beca mutters, the tone to her voice showing she’s definitely not upset.
A small laugh falls from Chloe’s lips in response as she clambers further up the bed, settling into her side -- not that either generally keep to their side; they usually wind up tangled up together somewhere in the middle. “You caught me, baby mama. Hurry and get back over here, time’s ticking on how long we actually have to close our eyes before he’s waking up again.”
“Clingy and demanding,” Beca jokes, shrugging on her favorite navy blue sweater. She pulls her mousy hair from beneath the neck as she makes her way back over to the bed, letting it fall in messy waves over her shoulders. She catches Chloe mid-yawn, and while she’s the one adamant on treating her wife like she’s suddenly made from the most fragile glass, she can’t resist the urge she feels to position herself over her lap, body facing Chloe’s.
“Hi,” the redhead greets post-yawn, sleepy eyes gazing up into the other’s. Her hands are covered by the long sleeves of her sweater, but Beca feels them settling on her lower back as Chloe wraps her arms loosely around her waist, fingertips brushing against bare skin where her own sweater has ridden up some.
Rather than respond, Beca lifts her arms to wrap in turn around Chloe’s neck, her body moving closer to the other woman’s and her lips pressing delicately against her wife’s. The kiss doesn’t last too long, but the feeling lingers as Beca pulls back, and Chloe has that sleepy, dreamy look in her eye as her lids flicker open upon parting, the one that pulls a soft, sincere smile to her own features every time.
“Making out in front of our baby?” Chloe questions, brow rising. There’s a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, and Beca whines quietly in response.
“I know, I thought it was weird, too,” she groans under her breath, almost confused by the small laugh radiating from the other woman.
“I was kidding.”
While she may look pretty dainty, Chloe really does have muscles for days. Her arms, wrapped around Beca’s middle, tighten to lift the brunette up from her lap, moving her carefully onto the bed beside her, and Beca pouts at the loss of contact once again.
“You’re cute,” Chloe chuckles quietly, rolling onto her side and patting the pillow beside her. “Come lay down, he really is going to be awake soon. We should sleep while we can.”
Normally, Beca would protest, say something about how she’s so not cute, she’s way too cool to be cute, but right now, she’s too tired. She’s too tired to resist, and finds herself yawning as she shuffles to her side of the bed, head sinking into the pillows.
“Do you think he needs anything?” Beca asks, glancing over toward the bassinet, though she doesn’t sit up. She just looks, almost like if she stares hard enough, she’ll be able to see through the sides.
“I think if he did, he’d let us know,” Chloe says, her words muffled by yet another yawn.
Beca feels an arm draping across her middle, then Chloe is sliding her closer, tucking her into her body like the perfect little spoon.
“Alexa, lights off,” the redhead instructs, chin resting comfortably over the top of Beca’s shoulder as the room grows dark.
“What if he’s afraid of the dark?” Beca asks, words a little mumbly with her exhaustion. She blinks into the darkness, unable to see more than vague shapes, and hears Chloe’s quiet chuckle from behind her, smells her minty toothpaste.
“He’s not afraid of the dark. He’s tough, he’s like his mom.”
Chloe’s arm tightens some, and Beca finally decides it’s time to give in, time to do as all of the books have said and get a little shut-eye while Bradley does, because she knows these moments of peace and quiet will be fleeting.
Beca can tell Chloe’s sleepy voice by now. She can tell when she’s drifting out of consciousness, so she chooses to say no more, and instead just settles in, hand searching blindly for the other woman’s until she can lace their fingers.
The room is still, it’s quiet. The sound of Chloe’s breathing is growing heavier as sleep overtakes her, and Beca’s eyes begin to flutter shut now, too.
“What if he’s hungry?” She mumbles, breaking quietly into the silence.
Chloe responds with a barely audible laugh, her fingers tightening slightly as they interlace with Beca’s. “Go to sleep, Bec. He’s fine.”
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sapphireglyphs · 4 years
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(secrets of an) opaque romance
➵ pairing: do kyungsoo x lalisa manoban  ➵ rating: PG-15 / T+ ➵ genre: modern arrange marriage!au-ish, romance, slice-of-life ➵ chapter word count: ~ 33K   ➵ summary: Back by popular demand, MBC brought back “We Got Married” for its 5th season and it looks like the K-pop world was going to get turned on its head when BlackPink’s Lead Dancer gets paired with EXO’s Legendary Lead Vocalist. Between award shows, drama shoots, TV show tapings, dance practices, album promotions, and potential fan riots, these two mega stars will have to juggle their demanding careers and a burgeoning relationship - even of the artificial variety.   ➵ a/n: this is all the result of seeing a fancam of my two biases sharing screen time on stage next to each other at an award show. it honestly lasted all of 80 seconds, but it was everything to me. i take no blame in this creation - it had to be done. #sorrynotsorry 
Episode #1 - It’s a Pleasure to Formally Meet You
It was well into June but the weather had been very windy the last few days, as if a storm was about to roll in, so she had grabbed her grey crop top hoodie jacket before leaving her shared living space with the rest of the members. She was dressed rather casually for a meeting of this caliber but after the 20th outfit change and an abundance of whining, Rosé finally kicked her out of her bedroom amid protests from the other maknae. 
The instructions had said that there would be some walking involved and walking at the beach or the park in heels and a fancy skirt would hardly be appropriate. But then again, it might not have been. It was so hard to gauge whether she was over thinking this whole ordeal or if maybe she wasn’t caring enough as she caught her reflection in the van’s glossy exterior. A white graphic tee tied in the back into a bun, Rosé’s favorite pair of super high-waisted jean shorts and a pair of suede high-top wedge sneakers (albeit a cute pair) may seem understated but that was kind of the point: she wanted to exude the illusion of comfort - even if she didn’t feel it one bit. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest, she was sure it was going to break out of its ribbed cage and run in the opposite direction of the trendy little cafe she was supposed to be meeting him at. 
“Him,” she groaned and whined to herself, “Why did I agree to this...?”
Despite her manager driving at a normal speed, she was sure he was racing down the streets of Seoul, if not just to make sure she doesn’t jump ship mid-trip. 
The look on her face was not encouraging. 
“Why, Manager-ssi! Why did we agree to do this again?” she whined, sticking out her bottom lip before she began to gnaw at it anxiously. “Ah ya!! I don’t want to do this anymore! Can we please just go back home? Please?” 
She was being childish but it can’t be helped. She has never had any romantic relationship experience before in her 24 years on this planet. Sure, there were puppy love and teenage crushes but anything beyond that was in the realm of fiction - concepts only seen on screen and listened to on the radio from afar. 
Without that distinct barrier in-between her and the very real idea that she was going to have to be acting as if she was in love with a complete stranger was threatening to bring her meager breakfast back up.
Before she could contemplate if rolling out of a moving vehicle was truly a viable option, the van was put into “park” and she peeked out to see that they had in fact arrived at their destination. Without a second thought, she pulled out her phone from her purse and saw a message from the three other girls.
Jisooie: Don’t be nervous! It’s going to be fine. Just think of it as practice for your upcoming drama! 
Rosie: Hey!! Good luck, sis! Just be yourself - he’s gonna love you! 
Jennie: More like he doesn’t have a choice! The poor guy...
Jennie: Did Chaeyoung actually tell you to just be yourself? *eye roll emoji* Don’t be yourself! You want to actually make a good first impression, right? Besides, this is nothing compared to the grueling weeks you spent at an actual boot-camp! This. Is. Nothing. 
In spite of the harshness of the last three words, it was just what she needed to hear in order to call upon her stage persona. She felt the insecure, anxious, and vulnerable girl disappear deep into her heart and brought forth the sweet, confident, and charming woman who had commanded the undivided attention of thousands of screaming fans with ease and poise. She smiled at the messages one last time and took a deep breath before she thanked her manager and exited the van. She tried not to look at the camera crew that were in her periphery and instead focused on making her long legs walk the last few steps to the door. 
- ❥ -
The moment she stepped into the cafe, he looked up at her and felt his heart stutter. He hadn’t been told ahead of time who "She” was going to be, but he knew it was her the moment they locked eyes. What were the chances that another celebrity would walk into the same cafe while the WGM crew filmed their initial episode of the new season? 
He watched her perfectly painted coral lips stretch into a small but confident smile and knew he was in trouble. Stamping down the panic that threatened to claw up his throat, he slid from the red vinyl booth and unconsciously licked his suddenly dry lips, hoping the cameras didn’t catch him wiping his hands on his jeans.  
“Good morning,” she said sweetly, bowing in respect before smoothly continuing, “I’m Blackpink’s Lisa. It’s so nice to meet you.” Her delivery had sounded so genuine and natural, it almost didn’t come off scripted. 
Bowing slightly in return, he hoped his smile didn’t look like a grimace. “Good morning, I’m EXO’s Do Kyungsoo. It’s a pleasure to formally meet you.” 
Lisa gave a breathy giggle and nodded, “That’s true. We have met in the past, haven’t we? But only in passing.” She looked over at the table and saw a familiar looking brown envelope. “Have you been waiting long?”
Kyungsoo shook his head in reply, “No, I only just got here myself.”
He watched as she gave a small sigh of relief, “Oh good.” She took her purse from her shoulder and placed it on the booth opposite from his before admitting with a stage-whisper, “I have the tendency to run late.”  
“Don’t worry. You’re fine.” Kyungsoo reassured her with a soft smile before gesturing to the envelope. “Did you receive one too?”
Lisa smiled, her eyes twinkled as she pulled an identical one out from her bag. “Yes, I did.”
“Have you read it yet?” 
“Yes. Did yours have puzzle pieces too?” Kyungsoo tried not to focus on the fact that she smelled faintly of fresh strawberries and sunshine after a rainstorm and instead took in her expectant expression. He simply nodded as he pulled out his set from the envelope. 
“Welcome,” came the voice of their waitress, “Could I take your order?”
Kyungsoo turned to the woman across from him, realizing that she wouldn’t know what she wanted just yet and was about to tell the waitress to come back in a few minutes but Lisa beat him to the punch. “Ah! I- uhm... do you know what you’ll have? I can make a decision by the time you order yours.” She insisted.
He tried to gauge whether she was truly going to be ready seconds after he told the waitress that he’ll have an iced Americano but decided to not push the issue. 
As it turns out, she was ready - an iced vanilla latte for her. 
Once their orders were placed, they both turned their attention back to the puzzle pieces that were now scattered across the lacquered wooden table. Kyungsoo started to gather all the corner pieces and noticed that Lisa had begun picking out all the pieces with text printed on them. He wasn’t sure if that was because she noticed that he was working on one part of the puzzle and decided to tackle the other or if she simply didn’t want to work with him on the same part. 
He chanced a look at her and ended up looking straight into her questioning soft brown eyes. They both broke eye contact immediately and looked back down at the pieces in front of them. He felt his heart rate quicken when their orders arrived.
They both thanked the waitress at the same time, adamant about focusing on anything other than their partner. “Uhm...” she began. “Would you mind if I sat next to you to finish the puzzle?”
Kyungsoo raised his large round eyes to see that she had finished her text portion of the puzzle. “Oh... no, I wouldn’t mind.” He scooted over to make room for her.
Lisa let out a minute puff of relief, her face split into a shy smile before she switched sides and slid into the booth next to him. Up close, her sweet scent was even more potent and he unconsciously inhaled a lungful of it before scolding himself for being a creep.  
Thank all of the entities in the heavens that she didn’t seem to notice. Looking down, Kyungsoo saw that she had added her portion of the simple jigsaw puzzle to his completed corners before tacking on the bottom portion which spelled out an address. 
“We’ll probably have to go to this address. I wonder how far it is from here...” she murmured aloud. 
“Well, it’s on the same street as this cafe. Most likely it’s close by.” Kyungsoo surmised. 
Lisa had already brought out her mobile phone out and was looking up the address. Sure enough, it was about a 15 minute walk from the cafe. 
Without anything to occupy their hands now, they both turned their attention to their neglected drinks. Lisa made no attempt to return to her side of the booth and Kyungsoo wasn’t sure how it could make him nervous and happy at the same time. 
“So... how’s... work?” She weakly attempted. 
Kyungsoo smiled gratefully at her. “It’s been... hectic.”
There was another awkward beat before he turned the question back on her, “And you?”
Lisa nodded, “Same. Busy, busy, busy.”
Silence once again permeated the table before Lisa whispered, “Did you ever think this was where you would end up?”
He turned his head towards her questioningly, hoping she would elaborate. Sensing his gaze, Lisa turned before shyly tucking her hair behind her ear and chuckled nervously, “You know, meeting your “wife”,” making sure to put up air quotes to punctuate her point, “for the first time in a random cafe amidst a full camera crew?”
Kyungsoo laughed at her candidness. He bluntly replied in turn, “To be honest, I thought I had dodged a bullet when the show hadn’t been picked up for a new season. The show was making the rounds to the younger groups in the last season and it felt a bit like the Reaping during the Hunger Games.”
Lisa’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “It did, didn’t it?!” she agreed enthusiastically. 
They both laughed, not knowing if it was the nicest thing to say about the current show they were on. Lisa swooped in for the save though, “I’m sure this will be a fun experience though.” she insisted, “At the very least, I would really like for us to be friends. I want you to feel like you can come to me for anything.”
Kyungsoo tried to cover his shyness that was about to overtake him with a chuckle. “I would like that - and please know that you can count on and come to me as well.”
Lisa smiled and nodded sharply her acceptance of his polite offer. 
They finished their drinks and made their way towards the address that was printed on the now completed puzzle. They walked side by side, the wind picking up slightly as they crossed the street. Kyungsoo was just thinking to himself that it was such a nice day out, when her voice filtered through his thoughts. 
“If you weren’t here right now, what would you be doing?” 
Her question seemed innocent enough but Kyungsoo could hear a wistfulness in her voice. Sure enough, when he turned to her questioningly, Lisa gave a small rueful smile, “It’s just... I can’t remember the last time I just took a casual walk outside... with a man who wasn’t my manager.”
Kyungsoo had to agree. He too had been going nonstop since they had debuted and had only had time to slow down when he had enlisted for the military. Despite missing out on so many amazing things that the group managed to accomplish without him, he felt it was a much needed break from it all. Dating wasn’t even in the picture - fictional or otherwise. 
Deciding to not go down that mental route, he focused on her answering her question instead. “Hmm, well today being Monday, I would probably be at a meeting to go over the schedule for the week. After that, would be to the dance studio to practice the new routines and then probably go to the recording stu...” half way through his answer, Kyungsoo noticed that Lisa had disappeared from next to him. His eyes scanned the sidewalk lined with pretty shops and eventually settled on her two stores behind him and the camera crew. She was bent over a stroller, the mother thanking her for something as the female idol smiled at her before waving to the little boy.  
As Kyungsoo approached her, she turned to him with a slightly mortified look on her face. “I’m so sorry for walking away while you were talking! It’s just that, that little boy’s blankie blew out of the stroller and the mom didn’t noticed and he was reaching for it, and she was pushing the stroller away from the blankie and I - ”
Kyungsoo shook his head, waving off her apology before softly chuckling, “That was very kind of you.”
Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, but whether from the compliment or her apology, he wasn’t sure. “Anyone would have done it,” she replied assuredly.
He stared at her, baffled by how effortless her humble yet diplomatic answer came out. Will she constantly be surprising him like this? 
He stole a quick glance at the film crew and for a split second wondered if that mother had been planted - staged to make sure Lisa would have to help her, and in turn make his heart ache uncomfortably. The thought annoyed him (just the very fact that it did in the first place, bothered him even more!) but he kept it hidden behind a placid look as he simply repeated his answer to her as they continued walking.
- ❥ - 
He was mad. He brushed it off casually because the cameras were present but she could tell in the way his eyes narrowed and it made her want to kick herself for not having any semblance of restraint. She knew that he was being polite enough answer the question that she had posed but she just had to go off and - 
Lisa mentally shook herself. ‘Focus, dang it! He’s answering your question again and you’re about to check out on a self deprecating rant! You can beat yourself up later, just pay attention to what he’s saying!’ 
To her horror, the moment she began to listen intently, he had stopped talking again. Lisa tried to swallow the panic that was going to take over with a strangled, “Ah~”
He turned to her incredulously, a raised eyebrow accompanying a low chuckle, “That was so late. Are you even paying attention?”
Lisa burst out in nervous laughter and covered her face in utter mortification. “I am - that is - I’m trying to! I’m so sorry. Once more, please! Once more!” she begged cutely. 
His ears turned slightly pink at the look on her face and Lisa found her heart racing at how incredibly adorable he looked. Kyungsoo cleared his throat before he repeated himself for the third time and then looked at her expectantly. She smoothly replied with a follow up question about whether EXO was working on a new album, proving to him that she had in fact listened that time around. 
The conversation continued without incident as they approached their destination, which turned out to be a small jewelry boutique. It was one of those ethical, fair trade businesses that promote sustainable development by offering better trading conditions to and securing the rights of marginalized producers and workers. It was a trend that was making quite an impact and Lisa’s eyes began to twinkle in excitement as she saw that some of the jewelry on display were made with “eco diamonds” (the perfect, guilt-free alternative to mined diamonds). 
The young sales representative behind the counter greeted them before handing Kyungsoo a familiar brown letter envelope. He pulled it open and read aloud that their challenge for the day was to pick out their rings and post a picture of it to social media with the #mbcwegotnarried. 
Lisa swallowed down her nerves as she snuck a glance at him and saw a pensive look mar his otherwise handsome features. She had seen trailers for his movies play on the silver screen before a movie that she and girls would go to watch on their rare days off and even seen him at award shows before but in all the chaos and the strobe lights and confetti bombs, she had never gotten the pleasure of actually admiring just how handsome he was. In fact, handsome was a slight understatement for the legendary singer/actor. His beautifully tanned skin, his large, round eyes, his perfectly heart-shaped, full lips - Lisa could admit wholeheartedly that the man was gorgeous. 
He turned to her then and she plastered a smile to welcome his slightly worried expression. “This might be a problem,” he began, “I don’t have any social media accounts.”
Lisa’s eyes widened. “... Really? Not even one?”
He shook his head.
‘Wow… he’s really living that unplugged life.’ She thought to herself before bravely asking, “Why? Don’t you want to post stuff and get followers and maximize the exposure of your works?”
Kyungsoo simply shrugged before saying, “I guess I just can’t be bothered,” as though this was the most normal thing in the world. Lisa wasn’t sure if it was the nonchalant way he had said it or if it was simply because the man seemed so unbothered by the fact that he was not “up with the times” but, either way, she found the quality to be quite charming. It made her want to see what else she could find out about him - to peel back the layers and see what it would reveal about her “husband”. 
The thought of that term brought her attention back to the task at hand and she gave him a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry about that. I can post it for us.”
He gave a slight chuckle before muttering, “In that case, I’ll be counting on you then.”
“Mm!” She replied happily and turned her attention to the display case. 
There were dozens upon dozens of rings to choose from - gold bands, silver bands, platinum bands with colorful stones, bands with sparkly stones encrusted all around, gaudy bands with multiple metals and stones adorning them. As fun as that last one looked, Lisa thought one stood out in particular to her. 
“Could I see that one please?” she asked the saleswoman. 
The woman pulled out a trillion cut ring with a rose gold band. It was a simple ring, no embellishments or stones that outline the solitary diamond that was set into it but it was nice. Much like the man next to her, the ring was pretty in an understated way.
The saleswoman then handed Kyungsoo its pair: a sterling silver band with a ‘V’ shaped indentation. Lisa watched him carefully, curious to see what he thought of the simple band when he held out his hand to her in silent permission to see the ring she was holding. He took the rose gold band from her, her skin tingled where their fingertips had touched in the exchange, and carefully stacked them atop each other in his palm. The two bands had fit perfectly together.
“Like two pieces of a puzzle.” he murmured lowly, his deep voice sending chills down her spine. Kyungsoo nodded once and then turned back to the saleswoman and said, “These will do.”
“Really? Are you sure?” Lisa asked. 
He turned to her, his head tilted in question, “Did you not want that one?” 
“Well, yes, but isn’t there one that you would prefer?” 
Kyungsoo shook his head. “No,” the beginnings of a smirk formed before he continued, “Besides, this one is on message.”
- ❥ -
Stay Tuned! Episode 2 Is Next!
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wellhellotragic · 5 years
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CSJJ Day 23: A Rather Common Name (1/2)
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Whoaaaaa. What’s that? I made words? Trust me, I know, and I’m just as shocked as you all are. It’s been months since I’ve written anything (my poor little book included) but I’m back and hopefully words will continue to come.
I have to send out a huge shout out to everyone at @csjanuaryjoy. Thanks to the mods for hosting this year and bringing everyone together. It’s been so much fun hearing about all of the fics that everyone’s been working on. Now that this is done I’m about to dive into all of them with my greedy little reader eyes. Also a huge shout out to all of the fam in the discord channel. It’s been such a privilege and so much fun to get to know you guys. You all make me laugh daily with the complete randomness. And thank you all for letting me bounce ideas off of you! Also, much love to the wonderful @profdanglaisstuff for chopping this up with her red marker of death (and surprisingly there’s no sarcasm there at all). You’re fantastic for helping me out! <-- See that? No past perfect! 😂
With that super long thank you out of the way, this is a two parter. The back half is coming in a few days on the 28th.
In case AO3 is more your jam
Summary:
She hated him. Okay, maybe hate was a strong word, but he was a dick when they met. So why did she tell him about the apartment for rent in her building? And why did she let him in? Let him climb her walls? Why did she let herself trust him when every man she'd ever been with had betrayed her? Why did she think he'd be different?
And why, despite it all, did she still love him?
The hustle and bustle of Christmas had come and gone in the Nolans’ Boston apartment. The tree had been taken down the day after Santa had delivered his presents, yet the lights remained, strewn up in the living room to keep the festive spirit alive. Mary Margaret was insistent that the lights could be recycled into New Year’s Eve decorations. The only concession given to David’s objections was the removal of the brightly colored bulbs wrapped around the railing of their balcony. Apparently red and green didn’t exactly scream New Year’s.
Instead, they were swapped out for some of the trendier hanging lights that she’d seen in all of the design magazines. The same magazines that usually covered Mary Margaret’s coffee table, something to be left up year round. But on that night, they’d only be admired from the living room. When the invitations went out, Mary Margaret had clearly not expected the massive nor'easter coming through. The news said that five inches had already been dumped on the city with no end in sight.
Mary Margaret had always been the perennial mother hen of the group, throwing all of the holiday parties. Christmas and Thanksgiving had come later, after they’d graduated and decided to become adults, but the New Year’s eve tradition had started back in college, right around the same time that David had appeared. Emma hadn’t missed the connection between her best friend throwing her first ever party, and the fact that said party was for a holiday that traditionally included kissing at midnight.
Not coincidental at all.
At the time, Emma had rolled her eyes, never understanding the build up. Always wondering why everyone bought into the idea that starting the year kissing a drunk loser was supposed to set some amazing standard for the next 365 days. Of course, that had been before Killian. He’d blown into her life like a torrential whirlwind, systematically setting her world on fire even as she felt like she was drowning in the sea.
Emma didn’t date. It was a promise she’d made to herself after Walsh. Twice burned, but never again.
Never let people in and you won’t get hurt.
But Killian, he’d snuck his way in while she wasn’t looking, and for the first time in years, she was ready to take a risk. Ready to open the door to her heart. But that’s the problem with opening doors in the storm. Sometimes the wind is so strong that you get blown away in the process.
There’s been an accident.
With one phone call, her entire world was rocked. The storm around her raged as she stood there at the door, rooted to her spot in sheer agonizing fear. Crippling paralyzing fear. The open shutters an invitation for her desolation. The ground shook, knocking her from where she stood. Windows shattered, shards of glass strewn on the floor around her. One piece aside, her heart stabbed clean through.
New Year’s Eve: 2 Years Earlier
“Emma, it’s only twenty minutes to midnight. Surely you’ve picked out someone by now?”
There was a sickeningly sweet tone to Mary Margaret’s voice as she said it. Some odd notion that happily ever after was achievable to anyone if you only had hope. Normally Emma would let it roll off her shoulders like water off a duck’s back, but having just collected her pay for bringing in another cheating runaway embezzler, Emma’s faith in love and hope was at an all time low. There was absolutely nothing appealing about kissing a stranger, not that she was necessarily opposed to doing other things with strangers on any other night. Something about New Year’s Eve was clichéd though, raising expectations.
Emma scanned the room. Most of the guests included the usual suspects. Graham, David’s partner at the precinct, who by all accounts was actually a stand up guy, but he was already off limits. He’d been in love with Ruby for years, pining away for her in secret. A secret kept from Ruby alone. He wasn’t Ruby’s type though, and she’d never once considered him in that way, never noticed the way his eyes stayed glued to her from across the room. Never noticed the way he always made sure to have a full glass in front of her before she could finish her beverage. How he was always bringing extra tapenade hummus to their get togethers knowing that it was her favorite. Instead she’d always picked party boys. The love ‘em and leave ‘em type.
Talking animatedly next to Graham was David, who was ‘out’ for obvious reasons. Beside them though was a man Emma had never seen before. Brooding heavily. His Adam’s apple bobbing as he chugged back the rest of the drink in his cup. But before she could get a better look at him, her attention was dragged back to Mary Margaret.
“If you haven't picked anyone out yet, then I have this guy in mind for you. He teaches with me at the school and he’s so sweet. His name is Jefferson and-”
“Whoa, are you talking about that guy that always wears those crazy different hats around town?”
Emma hadn’t even noticed Ruby approaching.
“Yes, and I think he’d be wonderful for Emma.”
“Uh, Mags. That guy is certifiably crazy. You know that right?”
“Ruby, he’s not crazy, and that’s not even a politically correct word to use anymore. Yes, he may be a bit eccentric, but all of the kids love him.”
“Listen to me. Thank you for worrying about me, but I’m not kissing anyone tonight.” Emma watched as Mary Margaret tried to interrupt, but stopped her before she could argue. “The only man that’s going to be touching my lips tonight is Mr. Jose Cuervo.”
With that, Emma grabbed the half empty bottle off the kitchen counter and made her way through the crowd, sneaking out onto the empty balcony. The streets below them were nearly empty. A rare sight on a Saturday night in Boston. She stood there, watching the lights change from emerald to amber, then scarlet. Over and over, no cars ever crossing the intersection. The calm should have relaxed her, but instead it did the opposite. Only further reminding her of how alone she was. Of how everyone else in the city had somewhere to be. Someone to be with. Of how Neal was out in the world somewhere probably conning some other stupid naive girl. Of how Walsh was probably in bed with the redhead he’d been screwing for the last three months of their relationship.
She’d never have that, and while it had been her choice to swear off men for anything more than a one night stand, on nights like that, she couldn’t help but long for the comfort of a man’s embrace. For something more that just ships passing in the night.
“Not that your delectable arse doesn’t make a stunning sight, love, but it’s hardly the view I’d come out here for.”
Emma jumped, nearly throwing the bottle of tequila over the rails as she attempted to clutch her chest.
“Jesus Christ! Lurk much?”
He let out a throaty laugh, lifting his head just enough to catch the glint from Mary Margaret’s bulb decorations. Even in the dim lighting, she could see the blueness of his eyes.
“It’s hardly lurking when I was here first.”
“Excuse me?”
“I was here, minding my own business, taking in the scenery. Then you appeared. Not lurking. Just easily overlooked apparently.”
“And you waited to announce yourself, because?”
“Well if the lady Nolan is anything like her excitable husband I assumed you needed a few minutes of respite to collect yourself.”
She nodded, unable to argue his point. Both of her friends were well meaning but overeager and overbearing when they thought they were right.
“Fair point.”
He laughed again, a little less humor tinting it that time as his hand gestured to the empty space next to him on the bench. Neither spoke for a few minutes, instead basking in the last remaining moments of silence before the midnight countdown began. Eventually her curiosity broke through though.
“Okay. I have to ask. How do you know David?”
Their friendship group had always been a fairly small tight knit crew, and she was certain that she’d have remembered the man next to her. Even in her foul mood she’d be an idiot not to acknowledge how handsome he was with that light smattering of scruff covering the lower half of his face. The perfect mixture of rugged and kempt. The way his bicep felt quite firm as he shifted and brushed his arm against hers.
“Ah. The inquisition portion of the evening.” He took a long tug from a flask he’d hidden on the ground next to his right foot.
He had walls. Something Emma understood intimately. The immediate need to deflect or defend with sarcastic remarks and witty banter. Anything to distract from people from getting too close.
“Not an inquisition. Just call it curiosity. And by the way,” she started as she took another swipe from her own bottle. “Who talks like that?”
Perhaps she’d had enough of the tequila.
“Like what exactly?”
She leveled him with her best glare.
“Fair point,” he mimicked her words from earlier. “The name is Killian, and to say that I know Nolan would be a bit of an overstatement. I just transferred over to his precinct earlier this week from across town and when he discovered that my plans for New Year’s involved take out and pay per view he insisted I come here. Apparently rubbing elbows with complete strangers with hardly any personality is a more appropriate use of my time. And as far as the ‘talking’ goes, you can blame that on the British educational system. For some reason they really tend to stress the whole education bit unlike the schools here in America.”
He stood as the party blowers began to scream, hardly bothering to excuse himself as he left Emma sitting alone, jaw hanging open at the verbal onslaught he’d just bestowed upon her.
She could hear the cheers inside signaling that another year had passed in glorious fashion.
Disaster.
Not that she should have expected anything less. The year before last she’d lost her mind and kissed Walsh. Another one of Mary Margaret’s infamous set up attempts. A year later she’d kissed him again, on another midnight . Unfortunately she’d found him kissing another woman just two days later and that was that, having set an impossibly high standard for that year to live up to.
Seven weeks into that new year Emma had come back from a night of friendly neighborhood research (stalking) to find that her beloved bug had been stolen. Only further emphasising her back luck, David had pointed out to her that she couldn’t file a report on it without implicating herself in a crime. Apparently cops tended to judge a person when they reported the car they stole as stolen, even if that person had gotten her shit together in the intervening years.
And then there had been the bank incident. Her beloved coffee shop had been closed for remodeling and she’d been forced to grab something at one of those trendy chain shops that charged a month’s rent for a single cup of cocoa. Usually that would have been hyperbole, except that particular cup had cost her everything in her checking account. The shop adamantly denied it, but one of the employees had clearly skimmed her card and gone on quite the shopping spree, draining away the money she’d been saving since college.
And if life hadn’t yet kicked her hard enough, she’d been evicted from her apartment, although evicted hadn’t been exactly the wording used on the letter explaining that her building was going co-op. But with her account fraud still under investigation and her money not yet returned, she couldn’t afford the down payment. The bank had all but laughed outright at her when she’d asked them for a loan.
The year hadn’t all been bad though. It had led to her living only one floor up from Mary Margaret and David. It was nice coming home from a midnight booking to find her fridge full of homemade meals in perfectly sized tupperware. Her newer car was a slightly less conspicuous than the bright yellow bug and she’d increased the number of skips she’d tracked down because of it. And ya, the new apartment was a little more expensive in rent that her old one had been, but it was a fresh start. Something she desperately needed. The rest of the year had actually gone pretty smoothly too, until she met Killian Jones.
He’d gotten under her skin somehow, something she thought about him considerably over the next few days. It wasn’t so much what he’d said, as much as the tone in which he’d sneered it out. She’d been called prickly in the past, but she’d never had someone act so callously towards her before, even in her foster care days. She thought about it as she went to bed in a foul mood. She thought about it as Mary Margaret tried pushing Jefferson on her again at lunch the next weekend. She even thought about it a dinner a few nights later, which is probably why she didn’t see the bread plate hurtling at her face.
She’d thought she had him, some lowlife who had hit his girlfriend one too many times. She should have expected it, been prepared for it. She had been, but then the dark haired guy at the bar beside her had said something in an accent and she let her mind wander for the briefest of seconds, just long enough for the scumball to toss a plate right in her face before trying to run out of the restaurant. He’d tripped on the stairs by the entrance though, smashing his face and breaking his nose. If Emma Swan had ever believed in karma, it was in that moment.
Luckily for both of their sakes, they’d only been a few blocks over from David’s station house. If she’d had to spend any more time with the man, his nose likely wouldn’t have been the only thing broken that night.
Granted, it was after nine on a Tuesday night, meaning David was long gone, but Emma was friendly enough with the night guys that none of them would have given her a second glance if she had roughed him up just a bit more than usual.
With the ring of a door bell, Emma found herself shoving the guy through a side door where Mullins was waiting for her just inside the bullpen after buzzing her in. He’d been the cop that had trained David during his rookie days. Mullins had taken a bullet during a robbery during David’s third year with the force, and even though he’d fully recovered physically he’d never returned to the field, too worried about leaving his wife and kids alone.
“Well, well, what do we have -” The concern was evident in his eyes as he took her in. “Jesus Christ, Emma.”
She felt herself holding back a snicker as Mullins pulled a little more forcefully than usual on the guy’s shoulder. After gruffly ordering her skip to sit down and changing out her cuffs for official department ones, Mullins returned his attention to Emma.
“You’re gonna have a pretty good shiner there, ya know that kid?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“I’m sure you have, but if Nolan finds out I let you leave here without checking you over he’ll have my hide.”
She chuckled to herself. David’s protective streak was his defining character trait.
“You know you outrank him, right?”
“Doesn’t matter. Jones!” His bellow took Emma off guard, startling her slightly. “Grab a first aid kit and get Emma here cleaned up a bit.”
Mullins pointed at a desk near the back of the bullpen and told her to go wait. Most of the desks had a few pictures littering the area. They were a mashup of people as the day officers and night officers shared spaces, but the one in the back had only one photo on it. Belle looked stunning in her white dress holding onto Lance’s arm in what was possibly the tightest tux she’d ever seen on a man. They were so happy together. But there was nothing else. Nothing in the way of personal effects from anyone else.
“Alright, love, I’ve got-” His words seemed to fall away when she turned around. The last person she’d expected or wanted to see was standing before her in a dark navy blue police uniform. In the artificial lighting she could see that there was a smattering of ginger in his beard. His inky black hair stuck up in places. But it was his eyes that she lingered on. They were possibly the bluest she’d ever seen.
“You.” Not her most eloquent of greetings, but she was still fuming over what he’d said to her on New Year’s.
“Aye, me.” His fingers fiddled with the latch on the first aid kit, but he made no move to open it.
“This day just keeps getting better and better,” she mumbled to herself
He at least had the presence of mind to look chagrined.
“Please, love. Take a seat and I’ll get you cleaned up and on your way.”
“Emma.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s Emma. Emma Swan. I’m not your love.”
He nodded and looked at the ground as he came to lean against the desk. His desk.
“My apologies. For calling you love, but mostly for the other night. You have every right to be cross with me. I’d had far more libations than food and I treated you poorly. I’d like to think I’m usually more of a gentleman than that.”
She studied him for a while, watching to see if his eyes shifted or if he fidgeted. Tells that she’d learned over the years to see if someone was lying. Little pieces of body language that could give away everything. He didn’t do anything to convince her that he was anything but sorry.
“It’s fine.” It wasn’t but she felt the call of Ben and Jerry’s and a Netflix marathon pulling at her. As well as a much needed icepack. “I probably wasn’t in the most festive mood either so we’ll call it even.”
He had her sit on his desktop so she’d be at eye level with him. Killian - Killian Jones apparently - grabbed her chin and tilted her face to get a better look. Frowning, he lightly brushed her forehead with his fingers causing her to hiss in pain. She knew the plate had caught her pretty squarely in the face, but it hadn’t hurt until just then.
He apologized for causing her pain and set to work on cleaning her up, informing her that on top of the beginnings of a black eye there was a pretty large gash as well. She winced as he dabbed the wound with an alcohol swab. She also protested when he suggested she go to the emergency room for stitches. She’d had worse and just wanted to go home and forget the entire night.
Well, most of the night. As he set about to applying butterfly strips, she couldn’t help but let her eyes wander over his face, over the pale pink scar on his right cheek. The slight point of his ears. But mostly over how well his form filled out his uniform. Boston’s finest indeed . Shaking away the thought, she heard him apologize once more,thinking he’d hurt her again.
“Uh, no. I’m just tired.” Not a complete lie at least.
Her exit from the precinct was awkward at best. After Mullins returned with her paperwork so she could collect her money, she hadn’t been sure what to say. Or if she even needed to say anything. They’d only met at a party once for three minutes after all. After mentally debating it, she’d given him a very simple thank you, then humiliated herself by almost poking herself in the eye as she pointed to her face. Not the most graceful exit, but she’d at least managed to make it out of the building without falling over in her heels so she called it a win.
She’d barely made it through the front door of her building before Mary Margaret and David had come barreling out down the stairwell, coddling her like parents, insisting that she come back up to their apartment to eat something. Clearly Mullins had called them to check on her. By the time she made it back to her own apartment she was far too tired to do anything other than crawl into bed and pass out.
The rest of the week, however, was practically a staycation as she hibernated in her apartment, not wanting to see people’s pitying looks on the sidewalk as they misjudged the situation. The first day her head throbbed and her eye was nearly swollen shut. She slept that day away, not even wanting to get up to search for painkillers or to make an ice pack. The second day was slightly better. The swelling had gone down on her eye, replaced by a deep purple bruising. It was still too sore to cover with concealer so she stayed shut up in her apartment scarfing down the ice cream she’d been craving before.
Before she realized it, she’d watched an entire season of The Great British Bake Off, and completely lost track of the time. The sun had long since fallen below the skyline and her stomach was beginning to turn on her for having forgotten to feed it something more substantial than frozen milk all day. Just as she was getting up to check her fridge, she heard a knock at her door.
Curious, she checked the peephole, not expecting anyone. Her downstairs neighbors had a key, and while it was supposed to be for emergencies that had never stopped them from using it for everyday use too.
It was hard to tell through the dirty glass of the peephole, but it appeared to be a man carrying a large bag of food from what looked like the Chinese place around the corner. It was probably a mix-up with the delivery guy. August down the hall had an even more irregular sleep schedule than her and ordered food at all hours of the night.
There was another knock, reminding Emma that the man on the other side of the door was in fact an actual human being and that she should probably open the door and redirect him to August.
“Hey, I think you have the wrong apartment. Booth is three doors down on the right.”
She was already closing the door when she heard him.
“Emma Swan?”
“Ya.”
“Well, then this is for you.”
She tried to explain that she hadn’t ordered anything. That he either had the wrong apartment or that it was a prank. The food had already been paid for though and the tip taken care of. Cautiously she had accepted the bag, setting it on her coffee table as she eyed it, as if it were somehow booby trapped, like a peanut can that once opened launched snakes at its poor unsuspecting victim.
Once she’d felt thoroughly convinced that the bag was safe, she began pulling out enough containers of food to feed a small army. She wondered once more if it had been a mistake, if some poor family of four was starving somewhere in the building, but as she pulled out the last carton of spring rolls, she found a note. His handwriting was a bit more flowery than she’d expected, not that she’d actually thought on it until just then.
Swan,
Now we’re even.
-KJ
Simple and to the point, making Emma smile in spite of herself and her lingering hostility towards him. She had to give him credit. He’d nailed all of her favorites, making her wonder if he’d just guessed well or if he’d had a little insight into her food preferences. Although, she doubted that he’d bother asking David and they didn’t share any other acquaintances.
That night she ate to her heart’s content, almost too much. Putting away the remaining food, she returned to her bed and quickly fell asleep thanks to her overstuffed stomach. The next morning brought a bit of relief with it. Her black eye was finally in the icky green healing stage and the gash on her forehead looked much better than the first night.
Feeling as if she’d rested enough, she called her employer to claim her next case. It was a small time drug dealer. By all accounts, he seemed to be privileged kid rebelling against his parents. He’d dropped out of school his junior year of college and started selling weed out of his car. His latest arrest had been for trying to deal to a cop. His parents had foolishly bailed him out, yet again, and he’d missed his court date, yet again .
The only foreseeable issue was that the kid had nearly unlimited funds to hide with, though he hadn’t exactly been good at evading the law before. As Emma searched through his social media accounts, it quickly became apparent that what he had in money, he more than made up for in lack of brains. It only took her an hour of research to learn that he’d been staying with an old friend from prep school in the center of the city.
Not bothering to go through the effort of a honey trap, Emma dressed in comfortable leggings, a long sleeved sweater and red leather jacket. She did her best to conceal the remaining wounds on her face and set out, grabbing a few snacks for what she hoped would be a very short stakeout.
It hadn’t been. In fact it had taken fourteen hours of sitting in her four year old Mini Cooper.. She’d been ready to call it a night when he finally emerged from the brownstone wearing a black hoodie and jeans. He’d clearly watched one too many movies on standard criminal dress codes.
As usual, he hadn’t seen her coming. She got the jump on him just as she’d done countless times before, and in near record time she had him back down at David’s station ready for booking. She wasn’t really sure why she’d gone there, passing another police station along the way. One that she’d used plenty of times before.
Yet for some reason, she’d felt compelled, trying to reason that it was just because David’s station was closer to her own apartment. That it would be a shorter ride home after. It had absolutely nothing to do with the attractive man that had invaded her dreams the night before.
Of course, when he saw her bringing in her barely legal skip and had come over to say hello, she was as annoyed as she might have expected. In fact, he was in a much more jovial mood that night, and when one of the other cops made a comment about how they preferred her other ‘work’ outfits, he just smiled and mumbled something about how they weren’t wrong under his breath. Then she watched as his cheeks pinkened and his finger began to scratch at a spot just behind his ear.
She hadn’t known how to take it. She hadn’t known how to take him. Not after New Year’s and the Chinese food. He was like Jekyll and Hyde, moody and brooding one moment, blissfully charming the next. He perplexed her. Or at least that what she told herself as thoughts of him continued to invade her mind over the next three weeks. Unable to get a read on him.
The harshness of January gave way to February. Snow still lingered on the sidewalks, but no more had fallen. She’d delivered two more skips to the same department over that time, even though one of them she’d picked up clear on the other side of town. Killian’s mood had soured dramatically by the second drop off. So much so that he’d barely even spoken more than a disgruntled hello that final time. Barely acknowledged that she was there.
It shouldn’t have hurt her. It wasn’t like she really needed him to leer at her chest in her skintight minidress like the other cops usually did. Especially the married ones. She’d always felt a little cheap when it happened, but something about his dismissal of her felt worse. Like she was no one. A sensation she hadn’t experienced since she was eighteen, just after Neal. That’s when she’d found out that she’d been accepted to Boston University with a substantial financial aid package. Gone were the days of not being seen by her foster parents or social workers. She’d become someone, and yet at twenty seven, she may as well have been that young girl all over again as he groused about paperwork, waving her off in the process.
A few nights later Emma wore that same red dress to pick up her latest skip, promising herself a well deserved break after his delivery. Catching him was easy. A little batting of the eyes, a throaty laugh as she pressed her hand into his chest. He melted into the her, dropping his guard long enough for her to cuff him to the barstool. She didn’t bother taking him to David’s station that time, choosing to instead call someone out from the precinct around the corner. The skip really should have been smarter than to agree to meet her at a notorious cop bar.
Once again the dress had done its job, and though she felt a slight bit of gratification knowing that at least one guy in Boston still found her attractive, the garment was shed the moment she walked into her apartment. Unlike the skin tight material, the day lingered on, tight in her muscles, and she hoped that a hot shower would ease her body.
It wasn’t meant to be though, as a sharp set of knocks sounded out on her door. Knocks that she recognized. Calling out to wait a minute, Emma scrambled to get dressed, tugging on some leggings and a sweatshirt. She didn’t even bother to check herself over in the mirror before opening the door.
She’d met him about two months in from moving into her new apartment. There had been noises, loud ones. Breaking glass, thumping on the walls. It was enough that she could hear it from her closed apartment three doors down. She’d been worried that someone was in trouble. With her gun in tow, she’d crept down the hall, stopping to listen at the door. There had been muffled yells, a man’s voice cursing. The door had been unlocked, and while she’d known it to be a bad idea at the time, walking into a stranger’s apartment uninvented and armed, her concern outweighed her need for self preservation.
He was a writer. A self indulgent prick with a complex. A man trying to write the next great novel and failing at it. The yells had been him screaming at his computer, at his words for being unremarkable. Oddly enough, Emma hadn’t been as put off by him as she should have been, and somehow they became friends of sorts.
“Thought you might be up for a goodbye party.”
He didn’t wait for an invitation, pushing past her to unpack the food he’d brought with him.
“Goodbye? I didn’t know I was going anywhere.”
August laughed, standing only long enough to grab some beers from her fridge.
He was leaving. To some place in Thailand, or near Thailand. Something about needing to disconnect from technology and distractions. About needing to live a story worth telling. She gave him three months before he partied himself into a ditch, or whatever type of landforms they had in Phuket. They ate and drank and promised to stay in touch, both knowing it was a lie. He left that night for the last time and Emma felt just the slightest bit empty.
She’d lost her confidant. The one person she could tell things to that wouldn’t judge her thanks to his own litany of crap. The ‘break’ she’d promised herself was short lived. The hollow feeling eating away at her. She needed something to distract herself. It wasn’t hard to track her down. A fake account on Grindr, a quick meet up for a drink first.
The only problem had been that the restaurant was only a few blocks away from her apartment, meaning only a few blocks down from the last precinct she wanted to visit again. She thought about driving to another one, but the girl had been mouthy after Emma had cuffed her and she just wanted her gone. She could only pray that he was out patrolling for once.
She had never been particularly lucky. Mullins was out sick and the only free officer to take her skip was him . He looked like shit, a small satisfaction in her book. Dark circles under his eyes, mused hair, wrinkled uniform.
He was moody. Not exactly harsh with the skip, but not showing any real kindness either. Not that she’d expected him to. She’d only seen him a handful of times and he’d been cranky more often than cheerful. If she hadn’t needed him to sign off on the paperwork, she wouldn’t have even bothered to stay. But when he mumbled something about being too busy and her bringing in a skip being an inconvenience she’d had enough.
She tossed the paperwork at him, telling him to just sign the damn papers so she could be on her way. Telling him that she hadn’t exactly been expecting to spend her entire night at the station. That he was the inconvenience. She barely let him finish scrawling out his name on the last piece of paper before she ripped it out from under his pen, storming off towards the side door.
“Shit. Swan, wait.”
She turned around just long enough to give him her fiercest glare before turning and heading for the door again. His hand loosely grabbed her wrist as he chased after her.
“Please.”
She stopped, not quite facing him, but not shutting him out completely.
“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, not again, but I shouldn’t have taken my piss poor mood out of you. I’m sorry.”
There was a pleading in his tired eyes that she didn’t understand. Yet she felt helpless to hear him out anyway.
“No you don’t, and no, you shouldn’t have.”
His head dropped in resignation.
“Why have you been in such a horrible mood anyway?”
He told her the story. It wasn’t the whole story. She knew he was leaving something out, but it wasn’t her place to ask. It wasn’t her place to want to know. But he gave her enough. He’d been staying in a hotel since he changed precincts nearly two months ago, stuck on the night shift. Apartment hunting had been a nightmare. His schedule only left him a small window of opportunity to see listings in person, and the places were either death traps or rented out before he’d got a chance to even view them. Then some ‘lot of bloody children’ had moved into the the room next to him. They spent most mornings running around making noise and he’d been unable to get a decent night’s sleep.
She felt for him, something deep within her seeing something in him. A lost boy. He was all alone just trying to survive. He’d been thrown overboard and was too proud to ask for help or to let anyone know he was drowning. She hated herself for what she was about to do.
“I have a friend.”
“Okay?”
“I mean, I have a friend who’s moving out of his apartment. He’s subleasing it himself until his lease is up in a few months and then you could transfer over the lease to your name after, if you wanted to stay there that is.”
His eyes shifted, more alert but still guarded. But something lighter filtered through as he watched her. Hope.
“You’d do that for me?”
“I think we’ve established that I’m not the dick here.” She flourished her hand between the two of them. “The only catch is that it’s in David’s building. I’m not sure if you’d want to see him at both work and your off time.”
His head tilted. “Thank you, but perhaps I shouldn’t then. If Dave chose not to tell me about the apartment, it probably means he doesn’t want me there.”
“He doesn’t know about it. The guy that lives there now is on a different floor and keeps odd hours. I’m not sure if he and David have actually ever even spoken to each other.”
She gave him August’s contact info, telling him that he was likely awake if he wanted to call about it on his break, leaving him with a warning.
“Don’t make me regret this, Jones.”
He moved in the next week, bringing only a few boxes. August had decided to leave most of his furniture, choosing instead to relinquish the creature comforts he’d become accustomed to. Believing that an artist was more creative when struggling. The furniture didn’t seem to match Killian’s personality, but he said it was fine.
He was still unpacking when two large pizzas arrived at her door. Already paid for just like the Chinese food. A thank you gift for getting him out of his hell hotel. He’d waved to her from his doorway, box in hand as she’d accepted the pizza, before ducking back inside. She’d thanked the delivery guy, adding on an extra tip. It was a lot of pizza. Too much really.
At least, that’s what she told herself as she grabbed a six pack of beer from her fridge door along with the pizza boxes before heading over to his place. The door had been left open from his constant trips back and forth between his car and the trash chute.
“Knock, knock. Welcoming party.”
He called back out, telling her to come in, laughing when she told him that someone had sent her an obscene amount of food. They talked a little that night. Superficial things. He was originally from London but had moved to the States for college. He had a brother, still serving in the Royal Navy. They usually only saw each other once a year around Christmas time. Emma was only doing bail bonds long enough to save up enough money for law school. It was strangely nice, despite her missing August.
It wasn’t the man that she missed as much as the bond she’d formed. She’d told him everything. Or at least almost everything. Now a near stranger sat in his place, and she felt alone all over again.
The strange thing though, was that he wasn’t a stranger. Not a complete one anyway. She knew him in a way. Knew that he’d been hurt. That he was just as alone as she was. Just as defensive. As broken as her. He was a kindred spirit.
They parted that night on better terms than ever before, leaving Emma to wonder just who Killian Jones was. What the missing part of his story was. She considered asking Mary Margaret the next day at lunch, but she wasn’t able to think of a natural segueway. One that wouldn’t make her look like a young schoolgirl with a crush.
The checks were on the table when she was finally and inadvertently given her chance. Ruby was the one to ask. She’d delivered some coffee and donuts to Graham and David who’d both been up early that morning working on a case. Killian had still been there, causing Emma to wonder why he’d been working so late. She’d even worried a little, but then Ruby asked about him, and all of Emma’s focus went to that.
To why Ruby was asking about him. To the way she toyed with the locket around her neck. The wolfish grin as she mentioned how good his ass looked in those pants. To the way Ruby asked if he was single.
Emma had to hold back a growl as her friend basically spoke of how she’d love to devour the man, and it frightened her. Frightened her that she was jealous over a man she barely knew, that she refused to let herself think of in that way. Jealous that Ruby could be so casual with men she saw on a daily basis. That she was so open with her sexuality. But mostly it frightened her that Ruby Lucas had never had a man turn her down.
The thought of Ruby writhing on the same sheets Emma had helped him tug over his mattress the night before made her sick for some reason. One she absolutely refused to think about . Instead she pushed it down, listening to Mary Margaret explain that she didn’t really know all that much about him. Just that he seemed nice enough the few times she’d met him. She didn’t even seem to realize that he’d moved into the building.
“Hey Mags, I have a great idea. Why don’t you invite him over to dinner Friday to properly introduce us. You know how you love setting people up.”
“He’s working.”
Two pairs of eyes snapped towards her. The words were out of her mouth before she’d even realized it. She wasn’t sure of he was really working or not, but it seemed likely enough. She’d seen him there on a Friday night before.
“I mean, I think he is. The last time I brought in a weekend skip he was there.”
“Well that’s a shame,” Ruby pouted. “Shit, is that the time? Crap, I have to run, but Mags, next time you see him, do you think you could talk me up?”
“Sure, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks. You’re the best!”
Mary Margaret barely spared Ruby a second glance as she ran out of the cafe, instead focusing her eyes on Emma. Speculation written all over her face.
“What was that all about?”
“Oh you know Ruby,” Emma tried for nonchalance. “She’s always been man hungry.”
“That’s not what I was talking about and you know it.” Her friend had clearly picked up some lie detecting tricks from David. “You were upset.”
“No I wasn’t. I was just trying to be helpful.” “If that’s true, then please explain to me why the heels of your palms have fingernail imprints in them?” Emma squirmed under her gaze, trying not to give an inch lest her friend take a mile.
“I just feel bad for Graham, you know.” Not a total lie. She was getting good at that. “He’s been in love with her for so long and I just thought it might be really awkward for him having to work with a guy that Ruby’s been with.”
“Good try. And yes, it would be if I thought Killian had any interest in her at all.”
“And what does that mean?”
Emma felt her heart surge with the tiniest bit of hope as Mary Margaret went on to explain that she’d already tried to introduce the two of them on New Year’s but Killian hadn’t been as amiable. So maybe amiable wasn’t the word Mary Margaret used, but it sounded like something Killian would say and for some reason that’s how Emma heard it. Her friend further explained that Killian had actually seemed really put out by the notion of a set up even after he’d seen Ruby’s chest nearly falling out of her dress as she danced around the apartment.
It wasn’t until later that day that Emma took offense. Her friend had tried to set Ruby up with Killian, while she’d tried setting up Emma with the mad hatter. She didn’t want Killian, really, she didn’t.
Yes, keep lying to yourself. That’s healthy.
But she’d still been offended that Mary Margaret had thought she’d be more compatible with a guy that talked in riddles and dressed up to go to the Boston tea house. It was a place only small children went to feel fancy in their dress up princess clothes. Not a place for a grown ass man to live out some weird fantasy. A part of her wondered if there wasn’t something slightly more sinister going on there.
She begged off from their planned dinner the next night. Something she did with them every Friday night, work permitting, but her ire with Mary Margaret had only grown and she didn’t want to see the woman, afraid she may say something regrettable. Unfortunately, it meant that her friend left nothing in her fridge to eat. She contemplated getting something delivered, but she didn’t want to be home if the Charmings from downstairs came up to check on her or to call her bluff about being busy.
The little pub around the corner was busier than she’d expected. Nearly every table was full and the bar had a crowd two deep. Emma turned around, set to leave when she saw him, sitting at a table in the corner all by himself.
“Is this seat taken?”
It was a cheesy line, and she hadn’t meant to sound so throaty as she said it, but she hoped that she come off more as joking than flirty. It didn’t matter though. He was too gone to really even notice her. She could have been wearing a shark onesie and he likely wouldn’t have been fazed. He shouldn’t even be served any more, yet when the waitress walked over with her tray, she had another glass of amber liquid ready for him.
“I’ll take that. Can he get some water?”
The waitress looked disappointed, but smiled and nodded, returning soon after with a large glass. Emma took a moment longer to order some food, asking for it in a to-go bag. As she waited on it to be ready, she tried to force Killian to drink as much of the water as possible.
The walk back to the apartment was a bit of a struggle. Killian was wobbly on his feet and she nearly dropped him trying to open the door to their building, but somehow she made it to the elevator without hurting him. It took a minute of digging around in his jacket pocket to find his own apartment keys.
The place was surprisingly immaculate. She’d never seen it in such a condition before. August had always been a bit sloppy. Emma set Killian down on the couch and pulled the food out of the to-go bag she’d been given, insisting that he eat it all to soak up the booze in his stomach. By the end of the meal, he was looking far more sober than when she’d found him at the pub.
His eyes still had a glaze over them though, a haunted look, and although she tried not to worry, she couldn’t help asking him what had caused him to get shit-faced. He was evasive, or tried to be, but Emma refused to let him bottle it up. She shouldn’t pry. Not when his inhibitions were so low. She knew that. She would be furious if the tables were turned, but when he said something about a ‘her’ Emma’s concern morphed into something else. A new feeling that left her stomach in angry knots.
It was the the same old story of heartbreak. Her name was Milah. They’d dated for two years and suddenly she’d just decided to end things. To walk away from everything they’d built, including the townhouse they’d purchased. Or almost purchased. Something about it being in escrow.
But that’s when the tale turned. Her husband had caught wind of her plans to purchase a new home with her lover and told her she needed to choose between his money or her man candy. Ya, the husband had been news to him too. A blatant reminder that no matter how long you’ve been with someone, you never really know them.
The money had won out.
So he’d packed up. Boxed up the few items that didn’t remind him of her, and asked for a transfer. She felt sick. It was such a vivid reminder of Neal and Walsh. Of how they’d both fooled her into thinking that they loved her, but when it came down to it, neither had. Both had chosen something else over her. Her heart stung for him.
She’d been in the society section of the newspaper that morning, promoting a new little boutique uptown. She’d looked happy, really happy, and it had sent Kilian over the edge of misery knowing that she didn’t even miss him. That their breakup was nothing to her.
“So, Emma Swan,” he slurred slightly. “You now know my deepest darkest secret. What’s yours?”
She didn’t tell him. A mixture between wouldn't and couldn’t. That secret was locked far too deep inside. She’d never told anyone. Not Mary Margaret or David. Not Ruby. Not even August who’d known more about her than anyone.
Instead, she lied, telling him about Neal. About how she’d given her virginity to a man a decade older than her. A man that had immersed her in a life of petty theft and crime. How he’d tried to pin something on her, but she’d found out before he could do anything and turned him over to the police. He’d fled before they could arrest him, and she’d been let off with a strong warning. It was the only time being a foster kid had worked in her favor. The judge had taken pity and given her community service in exchange for a dismissal of the charges the DA had tried to hit her with.
It wasn’t her deepest secret, but it was still a dark one that she didn’t enjoy discussing. Mary Margaret had just looked at her with pity when she’d told her. That had been the start of her obsession when fixing Emma up with the perfect guy. Ruby’s first question had been to ask if Neal was good in bed. Unfortunately, his age and experience had done little for him. Something Emma didn’t realize until later after she’d had a few more partners.
But Killian, he just thanked her, his head still lolling back resting against the edge of the couch.
Something shifted between them that night. It started slowly, but they didn’t just talk when they ran into each other for work anymore. They both went out of their way to hang out, binging shows on their days off. Getting meals together. Walking together to Mary Margaret’s Friends’ Friday dinners. And if Emma had made an extra effort to ensure that he sat next to her instead of Ruby, well that was nobody’s business.
When Emma sprained her ankle chasing a skip in the rain, it was Killian who wrapped and iced her ankle. His fingers that brushed against her skin creating sparks along the way. It was Killian who told her she didn’t have to go to the emergency room if she didn’t want to, even though all of her other friends were insisting she get it x-rayed. He somehow just knew that what she needed most was to stay in bed. He was also the one that brought her bear claws from Granny’s on his way home from work in the mornings. He stayed up long enough to make her coffee just the way she liked it and brought it to her before going to his own apartment to crash.
He had become her everything in that year since their meeting. Somehow a mashup of the relationships she shared with August and Mary Margaret. He was her doting friend that had also become her closest confidant. He was the one she went to when she saw Walsh in the jewelry store buying a ring. The one that told her she wasn’t as stupid as she felt. That the mistake of opening up her heart to someone wasn’t hers, but his for betraying her trust the way he had.
He went to her when he was struggling with work. With his new captain who was just a huge dick and how he was always getting crumbs in his stupid black beard. With a case where the evidence just didn’t add up. Even when he was pissed at Dave for interfering in his personal life. She was the first person to hear about is promotion to detective, and his subsequent change to the day shift.
They were everything to each other.
And that was the problem. She hadn’t realized it. Not at first. But over that year she’d come to rely on him like a crutch in a way. She craved his approval. Wanted to see him smile. To be the one that made him smile. She loved the way that his arm lingered on her shoulders protectively when they went out to the pub for Ruby’s birthday. The way his hand stroked up and down her arm, his thumb drawing circles across her clavicle. The way his fingers always tangled in the ends of her hair.
She wanted him. She wanted him in the way that love stories were written about. She wanted him to hold her as they fell asleep at night after a passionate night of lovemaking. She wanted him to wipe away her tears and then kiss her senseless until all of the bad thoughts were banished. She wanted him to tell her that he loved her. Emma wanted him to be her last New Year’s Kiss. She wanted everything with him.
She just didn’t know it.
Not until Mary Margaret pointed it out while they were taking down the old Christmas decorations. The holiday had passed by in steller fashion. Killian hadn’t been there, instead meeting his brother in New York. The Boston airport had been all but shut down and many of the flights had been rerouted due to weather. Killian had told her that he couldn’t stand the thought of Liam spending the holiday alone in a strange city, so he left early, trying to beat the storm as it raged across the north east coastline.
She’d been worried about him driving in such horrible weather, even offering to go with him. But he’d insisted that she stay, not wanting to ruin her holiday as well. She felt empty and alone, despite being surrounded with people. He’d called her when he’d gotten there the night before, as promised to let her know he was ok. Liam was already passed out in the bed next to him so he couldn’t talk for long, but he’d wished her a Merry Christmas Eve before he hung up.
The storm had only worsened overnight and the Jones brothers were trapped in the city, unable to get home until the snow had stopped falling and the streets had been cleared. So they spent the morning on Facetime celebrating the holiday the best way possible. Mary Margaret opened the presents he’d left for them and laughed at the NYPD Rookie newborn onesie he’d bought them. Mary Margaret still had a few months to go, but David had already decided that his son was going to wear it one his ride home from the hospital. He tried to get Emma to open the present he’d left for her as well, but she refused, telling him that she’d wait until he was back so they could exchange gifts together.
It took four days before Killian finally made it back to Boston. At one point she’d been certain that he was going to miss Mary Margaret’s now infamous New Year’s Eve party, and while it would have sucked for him to miss it, a part of her was secretly glad. Ruby was still insistent that Mary Margaret set the two of them up. That they should forget to take down some of the mistletoe. There was an exaggerated wink that followed and the idea of it had just left a heavy weight on her shoulders, a gnawing in her stomach that she couldn’t quite explain.
She pushed that thought out of her brain when he returned though. The feeling of his chest pressed against hers as they hugged in greeting was a balm to her soul. One she didn’t know that she needed, and that was enough for her to forget the dread she’d felt.
She couldn’t believe that he’d remembered based on a random story she’d told him months before. He’d given her a magic eight-ball. As a kid she’d been naive and fallen for the story her mother had told her when she’d handed her the box on her 6th birthday. That she’d thought it was an actual lie detector test and she’d carried it everywhere with her, thinking it gave her a superpower, until a bully in one of her group homes had grabbed it from her, tossing it onto the sidewalk from a second story window. Shattering the ball and the last bit of hope she’d had in the world. And while none of her friends had understood the significance of the gift Killian had bestowed upon her, she cherished it.
She’d bought him a captain’s hat, telling him that if a man as idiotic as Edward Teach could make captain, than so could he. He’d smiled and kissed her cheek telling her “Thank you for the gift, love.”
She wasn’t really sure when he’d started calling her love again, just that it didn’t bother her anymore. In fact, it usually left her with a flutter. Not that she ever dwelled on that.
But then Mary Margaret had pointed it out. The way she lit up when Killian was around. That he did the same. The casual affectionate touches that they shared. The fact that they had more inside jokes together than she had with the rest of the group combined. The way they spent all of their free time together.
They were dating and neither of them knew it. Or at least Emma hadn’t known it. She couldn’t say for sure. She’d even gone so far as to deny it, but then she’d been reminded of the elevator incident.
They had come back from watching a Boston Celtics game. A skip had offered her his family tickets for her to let him go. She’d taken the tickets and cuffed him anyway. Perhaps it wasn’t the most upstanding thing to do, but they’d go to waste otherwise. So they’d gone, had beer and popcorn. It had been fun. It had been long. The metro line had been jam packed and they all regretted not driving to the stadium. The arm she would have paid for parking almost would have been worth it.
By the time they made it back to their building, they’d all been exhausted, and the elevator ride seemed slower than usual. David and Mary Margaret had both been leaning against the opposite wall of the elevator, but Emma had leaned back into Killian, allowing him to hold her up. Maybe she’d been too tired to notice the way his hand had settled on her hips, his thumb brushing dangerously low under the waistline of her jeans. Then again, maybe she just hadn’t cared.
It had seemed so natural for him to touch her so intimately. Anyone else would have received an elbow to the ribs or a kick in the groin, but with Killian, it was just normal. Mary Margaret had disembarked on her floor, giving Emma an odd look on the way out as David told them good night. Emma had been too tired to care what the look had meant though. When the elevator had opened on their floor, they hadn't discussed it. They’d just instinctively gone to Emma’s apartment and plopped down on her couch to watch Netflix. They’d woken the next morning spooning each other and neither of them had thought it unusual.
So ya, they were dating, and honestly, Emma wasn’t sure what to make of it. Especially when she didn’t know if Killian felt the same way. If he had butterflies when she rubbed his shoulders after a long day. If he felt a rush of heat when he saw her in her in one of her honeytrap dresses.
She spent all of New Year’s Eve thinking about it. Debating if she should say anything or not, but he’d winked at her in the hallway as he was getting in from work, and that moment, had solidified her resolve. She was going to find him at midnight and kiss the ever-loving hell out of him. To start the year off right. Maybe she’d even take him back to her apartment after for something more than movie watching.
There was a new dress. One she’d been saving for a special occasion. Something more meaningful than a skip. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, her makeup removed and reapplied twice. She even managed to find matching heels. The weather had cleared up enough that they’d even be able to go out on the balcony again, where it had all begun. Everything was perfect. She’d also severely underestimated how long it would take her to get ready though, and by the time she got down to her friends’ apartment, there were less than fifteen minutes until midnight. With the apartment full of people it was hard to move around, and even harder to find the man she was looking for. With five minutes left, she finally spotted Graham, slipping out of the restroom. She stopped him, grabbing his wrist to ask him if he’d seen Killian.
There were tears forming in his eyes though. Something had happened. Something with Ruby, and as much as she wanted her grand dramatic gesture, she needed to comfort her friend more. She had no idea that soon she was the one that would need comforting.
He’d been looking for Ruby, thought he’d seen her head into the bathroom. She’d been in there a while so he knocked, trying to make sure she was alright. No one had answered, but he’d heard moaning noises. Thinking that she was in trouble, he’d slipped into the bathroom and caught an eyeful of dark hair fucking Ruby with his mouth. Emma had had enough. She loved Ruby dearly, and would never judge her for her choices, but Graham was hurting and it was time that Ruby took responsibility for her actions. She stood to make her way to the bathroom but he stopped her.
“Emma, you don’t want to do that.”
Like hell she didn’t.
“I mean it. You really don’t want to go in there.”
He was pleading, a fresh wave of tears staining his cheeks and Emma felt every muscle in her body seize up.
“And why don’t I want to go in there?” There was a quiver to her voice. She felt so small and weak and hated herself.
“Please.”
She knew. Before she knew, she knew . As she stepped to the door, hand in the air ready to knock, she heard a scream. One final yell of ecstasy fell from Ruby’s lips, and she knew.
“Jones! ”
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spaceorphan18 · 5 years
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Spaceorphan’s Movie Reviews: Batman (1989)
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Before settling down to watch (and rewatch) all the films related to Marvel properties, I thought it’d be fun to take a look back over at DC.  Batman was probably the first superhero I was aware of? Since he (and Superman to a lesser extent) were the most well-known superheroes in the cultural zeitgeist.  I still say DC’s merchandising is far more prominent among children than Marvel, so of course, even in the late 80s, when I was a very young little person, I knew who Batman was.  
Of course, before 1989, there were other iterations of the character, most notably the Adam West series (and TV movies) of the 60s.  I remember catching those old episodes when it reran on Nick-at-Nite in during the 80s - I mean they were ridiculously campy, which of course also makes them family friendly, and so we had them on all the time.    Then Tim Burton came along and updated Batman to be dark and gritty.  (Like the comics! Actually, I have no idea, I’ve never read any Batman comics, so I can’t actually comment on that.)  Of course, being six at the time of theatrical release, I didn’t know what a big deal this would be.  
I don’t remember when I first watched the film.  It wasn’t in the theaters (I was too young - but not too young to see the sequel!), but I did see it a lot once it came out on VHS.  And I’ll be honest with you, it straight up scared me as a kid.  The Burton-esque imagery, mixed with dark cinematography, and the horror-esque elements of the film really seared into my young brain.  It wasn’t a film I sought out (though I don’t remember my parents watching it either, even though we owned it, I wonder if my brother watched it) but it was one that had a lasting impression, much like Ghostbusters and Back to the Future - it’s a film that I vividly remember from my childhood.  
The interesting thing (to me) is that I haven’t seen it (until now) since I was a kid.  I can think of no time as an actual adult that I’ve had the chance to pop it in again and watch it.  But, interestingly, there wasn’t a single moment of the film that I had forgotten - watching it again after, maybe, fifteen-twenty years, I really do remember every beat of this film.  However, maybe for the first time, I really understand the film as it’s intended - cause, yeah, it’s not a kids’ film (even if there was a ton of merchandising for kids - which there was, we had a toy batmobile and batwing).  
So, how does this film hold up all these years later? Surprisingly well - for what it is.  
So, maybe this is the analytical person in me, but I think this film is, maybe, more fun to talk about than to actually watch.  Of all the super fascinating things going on - the plot is the least interesting part of it, even the film itself seems to loosely hinge on the random things The Joker decides to do and is a little, meh, don’t think too hard about it.   To sum it up quickly - Gotham is being run by a crime ring and mob bosses and Batman is single handedly taking them down.  Meanwhile, The Joker is a crazed guy who wants to be bigger than the mob bosses who whole him back, and after he nearly dies in a vat of acid - he decides to become even more of a psychopathic killer and tries to kill everyone.  Because why not?
First, standing out to me much more as an adult, is all the Tim Burton-ishness about it.  Which I don’t say as a bad thing.  He has a certain Gothic, horror, cartoon-ish style, which I may say, is slightly toned down in this film than a lot of others.  Visually, I think he was a good choice of director, I think the film has such a captivating stylized look that it holds my attention when the plot doesn’t.  I think what stood out to me the most was that Burton went a drearily dark, with an occasional splash of white that made the whole film almost seem like it was in black and white - which was purposefully contrasting to the colorfulness of The Joker.  I mean, Burton is purposely giving artistry to the cinematography in a way that I don’t necessarily see in superhero films anymore, and I think that’s kind of cool.  There are times when the film is, maybe, too (literally) dark - but I feel like had the technology been just a bit better, it would have helped.  
Burton also seems to be aware of the special effects limitations of the time, because at no point was I taken out by how cheesy the graphics looked (it helps that there weren’t very man), and some of the scarier images from when I was a kid, like when The Joker kills the guy by incinerating him, hold up pretty well.  Some of the fight scenes seem weaker and stiff, not helped by the fact that I don’t think Michael Keaton could move much in that suit, but the action isn’t overdone.  The action sequences aren’t what they are today, by any means, but I think they work fine given the era of the film - I don’t really judge them for that.  
So - Michael Keaton’s Batman.  Does he do a good job? I say mostly.  As Bruce Wayne, I completely buy him.  He’s a bit charming, a bit reserved, a bit mysterious, and a bit crazy - and when Keaton is actually allowed to do something with the character, he comes alive pretty well.  The unfortunate thing is that this film really isn’t about Batman - it’s about The Joker (which I’ll get to in a moment) and therefore we don’t get to see much of Bruce Wayne doing anything - except staring off into the distance thinking about things.  I get The Joker is iconic and everything, but Keaton has made Bruce Wayne interesting enough that I do wish there had been more - because his character doesn’t get to move much beyond ‘brooding about my parents; murder thirty years ago’.  
As for Batman himself, he’s… fine.  I don’t really have any complaints, but he feels incredibly limited - more so because of the suit, and the constricting ability to do much while wearing it than anything in Keaton’s performance.  It makes sense that Batman would be a near silent warrior, but not being able to see Keaton’s expressive face holds this version back a bit.  
Meanwhile… The Joker.  Before I rented the film again, I was looking through some old reviews - and many of them mentioned that this film seemed to be more about The Joker than Batman.  And I was a bit taken aback.  I hadn’t remembered it that way.  However, it wasn’t like I was paying that much attention as a kid.  But yes, it’s true, this film really is not Batman’s film.  It’s The Joker’s.  And I understand why - The Joker is possibly one of the most intriguing characters and villains in all of literature.  He’s a character who merges tragedy, comedy, and psychopathy all in one - and yes all three are in this film.  I’m sure there are hundreds of think-pieces on The Joker as a character - understandably so.  So, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at how much of the film he takes up.  
I’m not invested enough to say who played The Joker the best, I hardly think comparisons are necessary (even if inevitable), but I really like Jack Nicholson in the role.  More so now than what I remembered.  Nicholson really embodies that whole crazed-lunatic pretty well, and I think he’s captivating enough that he does steal the show from Batman himself.  I feel like there are so many people who discuss The Joker, much better than I can, that I won’t elaborate much more.  But yes, Jack Nicholson’s Joker is pretty amazing, and I think it holds up relatively well.  
Rounding out the limited cast is Kim Basinger’s Vicki Vale.  And, well, she’s… there.  Despite being the literal stand-in for the audience during most of the craziness - an outsider coming into Gotham and being a conduit between Batman and The Joker.  She doesn’t get much to do and is the pretty standard obligatory love interest.  Keaton and Basinger don’t have that much chemistry - but I don’t blame them, they really only have one big scene to sell the romance, and for me, that’s just not enough.  You just really aren’t given any reason why these people would like each other more than they’re supposed to.  
Meanwhile - during the scene where The Joker is dancing around with Vicki - I kept think about that one test where if the woman is replaced with a lamp, would it change the scene?  And no - no it really wouldn’t.  I get the time period of the film, and how the ‘romance’ angle is kind of beat by beat what you would find in most films around this time, so I’m not judging too harshly.  But still, she’s almost third wheel to the more entertaining and layered dance Batman and The Joker are having throughout the film.  
Smaller Thoughts: 
Prince was the official artist of this films’ soundtrack - and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it.  The film has such a 40s-esque feel about it that when something slams it into the modern 80s, it feels a little jarring.  At the same time, the dirtiness of 80s New York, and the cultural materialism is all over this film, so the Prince songs fit nicely in.  It’s a weird dichotomy.  
Music, in general, is also what sells this film - and keeps it at ‘Classic’ level.  Danny Elfman (Tim Burton’s go to director, and a personal favorite of mine) does amazing things with the score - and helps deliver the atmosphere Burton is going for.  
I have a soft spot for Alfred - even if he weirdly decides to bring Vicki to the Batcave unannounced.   She’ll disappear next film anyway - so ultimately it won’t matter. 
I kind of enjoy the fact that Jack Nicholson insisted the actor who played Bob be in the film - and that Bob is unceremoniously and somewhat randomly killed off.  
This film is very murdery - even Batman is murdery.  He tries to kill off The Joker whenever he gets the chance.  
Billy Dee Williams is here as Harvey Dent - so that’s a super interesting thread that was never pulled on again.  
Most of the government/police force was kind of meh - and I couldn’t even really tell who Commissioner Gordon was.  
I did really like the flashback to Bruce Wayne’s parents’ deaths.  That guy who they had play a young Jack Nicholson? Spot on.  
There’s a lot of mask symbolism throughout the film.  Again, I’m impressed by Burton as an artist - and as someone who’s willing to tell a more layered film within a superhero film.   
Things that scared me as a kid: The mimes, the parade floats, The Joker’s girlfriend wearing that mask, the two dead models, the dead mob guy being burnt to a crisp, The Joker’s grin, The Joker’s laugh, really every time Jack Nicholson was on screen, and that laugh box that kept going after The Joker had died.  This film really did use to scare me.  
Final Thoughts: This film was incredibly interesting and enjoyable to come back to as an adult.  I don’t think it’s entirely rewatchable - it’s plodding along at a snail’s pace during some sequences, and I don’t think the plot is that engaging.  But I do think there’s a lot of artistry here given to us by Burton, and worth coming back to every now and then to see a film that would inspire superhero films for decades to come.  
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zankivich · 6 years
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Teacher’s Pet: A College AU Chapter 4
I’m feeling giving and thought I’d poster chapter 4 for the fourth of July. Hope ya enjoy! the smut is near!!!! 
Chapter 4
He was kinder and sweeter and more perfect than you ever expected. Lunch served at this wonderful opportunity to learn more about each other and really begin to develop the connection you had from the beginning. You learned how important his family was to him, what Canada was like for him growing up, and more about the music. He told you music had saved him and that he wanted to share that feeling with as many people as humanly possible. That meant writing and singing and performing, but it also meant learning as much as he could about it. He called music his first love and you got to connect deeply on this subject that was super important to you, and so important to him that he actually went to college for it.
“So I was diagnosed with depression my first year of undergrad. And an anxiety disorder to boot. I knew I was a little sad or whatever, but I was too lazy to ever do anything about it. And when I first started going to therapy, I didn’t trust her at all and I didn’t wanna talk about my problems, so she would talk to me about music. And it was just an escape for me. It gave me something to focus on and relate to. It kept me going forreal. Like a hundred percent wouldn’t be alive without it. So the Amy tattoo I got when I graduated, it was my therapist’s idea.”
He handled it surprisingly well for something you weren’t even comfortable talking about. He told you he’d been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and has struggled with medication for years.
“They kept putting me on different things. And it would completely zonk me out. It was like i wasn’t who I was. It scared the hell out of me. I couldn’t even write music anymore, I just felt numb. And uh I had to make the decision to stop taking the meds. Music became therapeutic and it became something that actually made the disorder bearable. So, I wanted to study psychology and musical therapy to help others. If the music thing never works out, I’ll always have that.”
“Ayyyy we’re both sad kids! That’s fucking cool.” You grinned cheersing your drink against his.
He laughed at you and the sound was as beautiful as everything else about him and it drove you mad.
“I don’t know how you do that, make everything good.” He murmured.
“It’s a talent truly.”
You got more mimosas than anyone should legally be allowed to order and ended up tipsy at three o'clock in the afternoon. The boy you liked was trying to take you shopping and you didn’t know how to tell him that you didn’t want to buy anything. You were much more of a window shopping, go to ikea and fantasize about your future living room kind of gal. It was also clear to both of you that if you let go of his arm at any point in this excursion, walking was going to be much more of a problem.
“Take me to a place that means something to you.” You insisted biting playfully at the meat of his shoulder. “But make it within walking distance, because I’m wobbly over here.”
“You’re incredibly adorable. I don’t know if you’ll like my place though.”
“I like you. The place is just a place where I’m with you.”
He peered down at you and your eyes went a little cross-eyed, but it was fine, you were fine.
“You’re so short.” He chuckled tucking you under his arm like a mother holding her cub in the wild. “I love it.”
“Short?!” You gasped. “I’m five foot eight, bitch it’s not my fault you’re fucking Goliath!”
Shawn busted out laughing and tispy you was very upset with his laughter.
“Don’t laugh. I could fucking eat you. There’s a drake lyric somewhere about serving you up with a fork and knife for me… Do you know Drake? Do all canadians know each other?”
He was very much still laughing at you.
“‘Do all Canadians know each other?’ That’s definitely country-ist? Nationalist? I’m sure there’s a word for it.”
“Oh my god it is. They’re never gonna let me teach anyone ever again are they?”
“Holy shit, I’m kidding. Maybe we stop and get you water on the way to my special place.”
“Maybe that’s a good idea.” You grinned sliding your arm around his waist. “Look at us, taking care of one another. Maybe I won’t eat you after all.”
Ten minutes and two bottles of water later, he was leading you into a guitar shop. It was tiny and sat right next to a record shop making it the perfect destination. When you walked inside the guy at the counter greeted Shawn by name and you knew then that it was space he really cared about.
“This is the first place I went when I moved here for school. My uh my parents couldn’t come with, too expensive for everyone, and it was a little hard at first fitting in here. So I google mapped the nearest guitar store and I’ve been coming ever since. It kinda reminds me of the one I go to at home.” He explained.
You walked around the store allowing him to lead you through his favorites. He refused to play, stating that that was way too corny for a first date. You reminded him that his way of romancing you was performing at a bar and dancing drunk. Shawn did not find this coincidence nearly as amusing as you did.
As the alcohol subsided and you saw how relaxed and happy he was in that state, it felt like seeing something private. This wasn’t something that he went around sharing with everyone else. It was something he was only sharing with you. Just like the reasoning behind your tattoo, which you never shared with anyone. By the end of the date it was no longer a question of whether or not you would continue to see him, but of just how fucked things would get when you very much continued to see him. It was going against so many instincts, but the biggest instinct of all was just to be with him, and fighting that just didn’t seem worth it.
He took you home after the date and you let him walk you to the door, biting back a cheesy grin when he held your hand the whole way there. There was lesson planning to do and research to read through and pages to write, but when he was there in front of you it didn’t seem right to do anything but absorb as much of him as you could.
You took your hand away from his and placed it on his hip pulling his body close. He pressed you into the door arms bracing both sides of your head and it brought back all of the feelings of that morning; the touch of his skin, the way that he tasted. When he leaned in bypassing your lips to skim his nose along the length of your neck and chest, your entire body shivered. Having previously had no personal rules on when you were willing to have sex with a partner it was immensely difficult to not jump his bones right there and then.
“You smell incredible.” He whispered.
He swallowed and you could feel his adam’s apple against your chest. Your back arched involuntarily pushing him closer to you. You scratched at his scalp tugging him gently closer to your chest. It was your best attribute after all.
“Jesus.” He whispered hoarsely eyes no longer on yours but a few inches lower.
You grinned loving the look on his face when he was flustered. His cheeks took on their pink hue and his tongue kept parting out to wet his lip. He chanced a look at you, silently asking for permission. You beamed at him and nodded loving as his hands traveled up your sides feeling you up through your dress
A sigh moved past through your mouth and you whimpered his name in his ear causing his body to freeze.
“Could you… say it again, please?”
You bit your lip moving your mouth close to his ear, your bodies completely intertwined.
“Shawn.”
That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back before you both began to make out heavily and wildly against the door. Your fingers pulled harshly at his hair and his were digging almost painfully into your hips. It was hot and it felt good and the thought of stopping was insignificant. But despite not being against sex on the first date, it seemed completely contradictory to the conversation of boundaries you’d had less than four hours ago. And on top of that you were afraid that if you let him inside you apartment you might not be able to ever let him leave.
Your lips broke apart with a gasp, but instead of creating distance Shawn simply moved on to kissing any part of your skin his lips could touch.
“Why are we still outside?” He muttered sucking a heavy mark into your neck.
“Because if we go inside, we might not be able to control ourselves.”
“I don’t think I’ve been able to control myself since we met.”
Touche.
“Shawn…” You murmured.
His lips stilled against your throat with a groan.
“I don’t get to come inside do I?”
You winced. “Not tonight. N--Not never, just not tonight.”
He pulled away and you could see that you were both completely disgruntled and a mess. His hair was going in several different directions. You’d wrinkled his shirt up, and there was multiple angry marks on both of your bodies. His lips were red and swollen looking practically fucking delectable and… why were you sending him away again?
“I had a really good time with you.” He murmured eyes soft and innocent. “Thanks for trusting me today.”
You nodded having trouble coming up with the words to explain what today had meant for you. You settled for leaning up on your toes to kiss his forehead, then nose, then lips.
“I had an incredible time. Thanks Shawn.”
He smiled widely. “No problem. If I text you later will you answer?”
“Only if you kiss me again before you go.”
“God you make it so hard to leave.”
The kiss was simple, chaste, and sweet before he headed for the stairs backwards eyes on you most of the way. You laughed having the feeling that you each had the power to destroy the other. Mutually assured destruction could be worthwhile.
***
The next couple of weeks are essentially perfect. In class Shawn does his best to behave, and he does even better at actually participating in class. Your research goes great and Kate eventually lets you started leading some of the lectures. Other students come to office hours and they don’t seem to hate you nor like you too much not to respect you. And it all seems to just kind of work.
When you’re not in class, you spend a lot of time together. At first it’s a date to the movies--because Incredibles 2, duh--and then it’s dinner at burger joints and strolls in parks. Eventually the time between dates and just co-existing with each other starts to blur. Shawn stops doing his homework at the library and starts doing it in your apartment while you grade papers. He no longer leaves campus to go to his senior house until you’re done for the day, and nine times out of ten he doesn’t walk home until after midnight. When there are no students or faculty around he eats lunch in your office, which is maybe twenty minutes of eating and another forty of fooling around. Your love seat receives a lot of love.
There’s no sex which is as confusing for you as it seems to be frustrating for him. He never pushes it though, never goes farther then fondling and groping. There’s just a lot of using pillows to covers boners and fake excuses to go to the bathroom to what you assume is willing the blood to go somewhere else. Maybe he’s jerking off in there, who the fuck knows.  A part of you wonders if he’s so caught up in just treating you right, that he’s afraid asking for it would be rude. But like…. You’re horny. All the time.
One time he invites you to the gym, which is just the entire opposite of anything you’ve ever wanted to do in your whole life, and so you spent two hours pretending to be on an elliptical watching him work out and having very intense fantasies of him fucking you in the steam room. He’d had a group project for another class to work on that afternoon and the second he left your apartment you spent another two hours masturbating to said fantasies.
You were a very sexually liberative human being. You once wrote an entire paper in undergrad about the connection between mental health and orgasms. You did an internship at a sexologist’s office where you regularly talked about sex toys and which lubricant was best for which. And if Shawn didn’t blush like a scandalized virgin at literally everything you gladly would have shared this with him. At first you had wanted to keep your distance, afraid that giving too much of yourself to him too soon would only make it harder for you both to keep things professional. The problem was once you created that distance it was harder for either of you to really know when it was time for the distance to close. In the end there’s not really a good reason for why you hadn’t made a move yet, all you knew was that you wanted to.
You were supposed to be getting ready to go out on a Friday night. Shawn wanted to go to a club since you’d never been. And you really wanted to fuck without alcohol in the way, so the plan was for you all to never make it there.
Shawn showed up already dressed and ready to go. He was wearing a maroon button up dress shirt and the usual black jean-boot combo. His shirt was tucked into his jeans which brought attention to the belt that you very much wanted to get him out of with your teeth if necessary, along with everything else. He was hot as all hell and he knew it and it was ridiculous how much that turned you on.
So, of course it was a little weird for him to find you on the other side of the door in one his hoodies obviously not ready to go out.
“Hey is everything okay?” He asked immediately reaching for you with his too large hands. “You didn’t say anything over text. You not feeling well?”
You smiled. “I feel fine Shawn. I just don’t really wanna go out tonight.”
“Oh. Almost gave me a heart attack ay? We don’t have to go out though. What did you have in mind instead?”
Oh wouldn’t he like to know.
“Don’t worry your wee little Canadian head. I was thinking we could do a little grocery store snack run and then you could stay over, if you wanted.”
“Stay over...Like for the night?”
You grinned. “Yes Shawn, for the night.”
He hadn’t spent the night since your drunken tequila adventure. It was clear that this was taking a step forward for you both.
“Yea, I’d like that.”
“I still have to get dressed. You can come watch or wait out in the living room.” You offered knowing exactly which one he’d choose.
You’d spent an hour picking out the perfect outfit that said, “forget the club and come fuck me” and finally had the perfect concoction. It was a black jumpsuit with a see-through panel all the way down the chest. It was perfect because you weren’t wearing a bra and it left little to the imagination, which was the goal. Shawn, who stayed on his phone while you were doing your hair, quickly sat straight up on your bed when you walked into the room.
“Hey will you button me up?”
“Yea uh…. Yea.”
You picked your curls up in your hands exposing your neck and back so he could button the collar. He did as you asked quickly running his large palms along the length of your sides and spun you around to face him.
“You look…incredibly sexy.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck bringing even more attention to your chest. Shawn, who for all intents and purposes had been one of the most mature men you’d been with, could not maintain eye contact for shit. Something about boobs brings out the teenage boy in everyone. His eyes were not staying focused and the blush that resulted in his cheeks was mesmerizing. For this particular moment you were quite happy with that turn out.
“Y--You gonna wear this to the store?” He asked. “You’re beautiful...breathtaking really. Just seems like an interesting choice is all.”
“Tyra Banks once said, ‘hoe, but make it fashion.’” You said as if that explained everything.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
You giggled pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“Just because we’re going to the store doesn’t mean I can’t look good. It’s a self-confidence thing. Humor me?”
“Always.” He promised kissing you again.
The trip to the store is honestly like two kids who have been left to their own devices in the middle of a store that they really shouldn’t have. You may or may not spend twenty minutes in the toy section hitting each other with bouncy balls and playing baseball with foam bats and balls.
He pushed you into the secluded area of the bicycles capturing your lips with his and it’s a wonder you make it out of the store at all. Your hands wander everywhere familiarizing yourself with every piece you plan to see tonight. Shawn’s eyes flutter close when your hand inches past his belt cupping him through his jeans for the first time. The sounds that he make get you going beyond belief, and stopping is harder than ever.
“You don’t know what you do to me.” He whined adjusting himself in his jeans before you finally  make your way to the food section.
You smiled up at him giving your best imitation of his own puppy dog look.
“What?”
“You know what.” He murmured wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you pushed the cart
You stock up on snacks and food as if there’s a blizzard coming. It’s a little much, but you have every intention of needing to replenish your energy that weekend, so it seemed worth it in the end.
When the groceries are put away and he’s standing there leaning against your counter looking sinful and beautiful, everything in you says to touch. Shawn was leaning against one counter with his arms crossed and you were leaning with your arms back against the opposite counter. There was maybe five inches of space between where his feet ended and yours began. It would’ve been incredibly easy to reach out.
No one was talking so there was just that charged energy that seemed to enter the room with you every now and again. He really was fucking gorgeous and you had wanted him since day one. All of the build up to this moment had you biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together like the wanton harlot he’d turned you into.
“I should probably run back to my place for clothes.” He said breaking the silence.
You shrugged. “Why?”
“For something to sleep in. I don’t think I have anything but my hoodie over here.”
“I think you’ll be okay.”
“How come?”
“Because I want you to fuck me and I don’t really think we need pajamas for that.”
TBC
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