#but semi-avoiding those things made her REALLY HARD to design | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chanluster · 4 years

Text

business proposals | {m}

oneshot | ceo! au | 10.9k words

“It was about time you addressed the cat and mouse game you and your boss have been playing for a time.”

s u m m a r y > > clashing heads with your annoyingly attractive boss was your everyday activity, but when a new, beautiful client comes in for the day you find yourself getting jealous. mr. lee, catching on, uses it to his absolute advantage, causing you to end up in a situation you did not think would end well. fortunately for you, with the way your dark-minded ceo’s mind worked, despite the hiccups in the middle, it ended just perfectly.

w a r n i n g s > > ceo! minho, secretary! reader, you get so annoyed at him all the time, he annoys you all the time, constant teasing, a fuckload of swearing, soooo much (kinda shit) sexual tension, flirtation back and FORTH, titles of endearment, minho is such a fucking dom, reader is a fucking BRAT, making out, fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving) you try to give him blueballs, unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!), semi-public sex (i mean they do it in his office so like), multiple orgasms, y’all be arguing during it all too HELP, minho has a sir kink sjsjskke, minho is so AGGRESSIVE HOLY SHIT, SO MUCH degradation, use of gags? (i mean he uses his tie so) basically you are 100% minho’s bitch by the end period!!

a u t h o r ’ s n o t e > > hello horny fia is back again with a minho oneshot because she can not control herself!!!1!1! thank you @hyuckworld for so much inspo and helping me out omfg the tie thing still on my mind !1!1! anyway this is inspired by minho’s soribada look cause he mf SERVED! and i hope y’all enjoy !

back to masterlist

YOUR SMILE WAS MORE LIKE A FLASH OF TEETH.

“For the last time,” you seethed, trying your very best to contain your bubbling temper, “You cannot see him if you don’t have an appointment.”

The woman before you, a striking image of curls and curves, fitted red dress, white blazer, and Louboutins elevating her height, knifed you with finely-lined eyes. “But I don’t need an appointment! Mr. Lee said so himself I could arrive at his office when I wished to speak with him!”

You pursed your lips. Of course Mr. Fucking Lee said so.

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it, Miss Kim.” You turned to your computer, opening up the list of clients intended to meet your boss this afternoon. Sure enough, this woman’s name was not accompanied with the others. Once again, he had said some pretty words, but had not reminded you of them so you could write it down for official backing.

You could not help typing a little furiously. It was like he was trying to make your life harder.

“I demand to see him!” Miss Kim exclaimed, raising her voice so the other employees, who were scattered before you at their desks, working away, paused, witnessing the commotion. “I did not travel from another city to be rejected!”

“Ma’am,” you guttered, hands on the telephone, ready to call security, when the misty, glass-like door beside you swung upon.

A firm, sultry voice resonated in the room.

“What is the meaning of this noise?”

Out stepped the one man you were hoping would stay seated in his office.

You turned around in your seat, looking up at the suited figure of Lee Minho — CEO of the corporation you worked under, and the mastermind behind the technological revolution in your city.

He certainly looked the part: black suit unbuttoned with his tie hanging, white shirt contrasting the colours. His trousers hugged his thighs a little too tightly for your own good, designer branded shoes adorning his feet. His dark brown locks were cascading over his forehead, and his calculating eyes assessed the room, finding the reason for such noise behind his doors.

His gaze settled on the woman. “Ah, Miss Kim!” He declared, a known dazzling smile upon his lips. “It’s good you’ve arrived.”

“Of course I would come,” she said, darting her glare back to you. “This little assistant of yours was ready to throw me out of the building.”

A slight tilt of his head. “Oh, really?”

Then, his eyes descended on you, seated before him, and you noticed something already stirring behind them. “And why was this ‘little assistant of mine’ booting you out of here?”

You pointed to your computer. “She’s not on your list of appointments for today.”

“So?” A glance at the woman. “When a pretty lady asks to see me, you oblige her, understand?”

Seething, you lock your hands together. “Then what is the point of the list when you won’t follow it?”

You nearly gasped in anger when you caught slight mischief in his eyes. “Keeping you on your toes, ____.”

“As always,” you hissed, returning his malicious smirk with a scowl.

He only chuckled at your lack of amusement, turning to the woman once more. “Miss Kim,” he addressed her, opening the door, gesturing for her to enter. “Come inside.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lee,” she simpered out, widening her sharp grin at you before going inside his office.

The man stood, regarding you for a minute. You glanced at him, frown still there. “Yes?”

“I am not to be disturbed,” he said, gaze a little too intense for your liking. “Is that understood?”

You made sure to match his stare. “Yes, sir.”

And you could have sworn his lips twitched upward when he turned to his office, entering after the woman.

When the door slid shut, you let out a shuddering breath.

Why in hell were you holding your breath?

“God,” you muttered, furiously typing away on your computer, noticing another presence approaching you. “He’s going to be the death of me.”

“Do not tell me you’re talking about Mr. Lee here.”

You looked up, and rolled your eyes to find Kim Seungmin, one of the salesmen for the firm, standing before you, files in hand and a knowing smile on his lips. “I am, as a matter of fact,” you said. “And how much I want to kill him.”

The man gave you a look. “Now see, I don’t think ‘kill’ was the word I thought you’d use.”

“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “Then what word do you think I’d use?”

“I don’t know, like…” his adorable smile was so unlike his words. “Kiss? Fuck even?”

You let out a harsh gasp, nearly whacking his arm with your scattered files. “Oh my God!”

“You can’t deny it, ____!” Seungmin pointed to the door. “You have a massive crush on him!”

“How can you even say that!” you demanded, pulling you near him so the others around you did not hear. “I hate that cocky bastard.”

Your friend clicked his tongue at your statement. “Then can you please explain to me why you both got enough sexual tension to suffocate the entire building?”

“We do not,” you refused instantly, picking up your mug of coffee. “You’re mistaking my bloodlust with just lust.”

“Can you at least stop pretending to me that you don’t want to suck his dick?”

Nearly choking on your coffee, you struggled it down, sending a sharp glare. “I don’t!” you raised your chin. “I bet it’s tiny anyway. Wouldn't have anything for me to suck on.”

Now that, of all the things you said that afternoon, was a complete, full blown, almost offensive, lie.

Not that you’ve caught a glimpse at the package which settled between Lee Minho’s legs. Well, you had, to your own shame, and were burning at the clothed sight, proving your little claim extremely incorrect. Your boss, devastatingly, had something substantial going for him.

Seungmin’s little laugh had you dropping down to reality. “You were thinking about his cock just now, weren’t you?”

Cheeks burning, you waved him off, groaning as you went back to your computer. Minho’s appointments looked oh so interesting. “Fuck off, Min.”

His laughter only deepened as he stepped away. “There’s no hope for you, girl. You keep daydreaming about that.”

If it weren’t for the people around you, you would have happily sent him away with a middle finger, but figured you should hang onto any scrap of professionalism left in you. The only thing you could do now was write up the new appointments for next week. Or perhaps play some Solitaire.

Anything to stop you thinking about him.

You twisted your lips into a scowl.

This was so unbelievable. Lee Minho was the greatest, most notorious asshole you knew of, yet here you were, like an absolute moron, pondering over him as if he was a lost love. All the time, when it was in meetings, or just bumping each other in the office breakroom, he managed to piss you off without effort, watching you enraged with a disgustingly ravishing smile on his revoltingly beautiful face. It was so, goddamn unfair, that he could rile you up so easily when all you could do was make him more amused.

To hell with him and his fine ass, you thought as you closed all tabs, opening up Solitaire.

Just as you thought you found a moment’s peace in this building, you heard the phone ring drastically loud, stopping you from completing a full set of one deck. Already irritated, you tried to suppress it as you picked up the handset, pressing it to your ear. “Minho and Company?”

The voice that greeted your ears made it incredibly hard to reign in your irritation. “Have you finished the list?”

“No,” was your clipped reply. You focused on the game, matching the cards to the deck of hearts.

“And when will this list finish?”

“I’m a busy woman, you know,” you drawled, aggressively clicking on your mouse. “You give me so much work it’s hard to keep up.”

“Oh, really?” Fuck him, you could hear the taunting in his voice. “So you don’t spend all day playing those stupid Windows games on your work computer?”

Your anger paused, eyes widening. The lack of response had the man cackling through the phone. “I bet you’re on that same card game you always play when you’re trying to avoid my tasks. What was the name again?”

“I can assure you, sir, I am not playing Solitaire.” You then sucked in an agitated breath at your mistake.

“Ah, that’s right.” You hated how you could hear the smirk playing on his lips. “Playing Solitaire and ignoring my work.”

Were you mistaken, or had his voice descended an octave? With the way you bit your lip, you knew you were caught anyway. “I’ll get the list done.”

“Mmm,” he got out, the low baritone still there. “And address me properly when you talk to me.”

Oh my God. “I’ll get the damned list done, sir.”

A small pause. “Good girl.”

And the line cut off.

Your hand nearly went limp holding the phone.

Good girl.

“Shut the fuck up,” you muttered, slamming the handset back in its place, feeling yourself heat up a frightening rate. “Cocky prick.”

All those curses towards him, and yet your cheeks still burned.

You did not cease your profanity — this time aiming more towards your own self.

Dear Lord. You really were in for it this time.

MINHO AND MISS KIM WERE STILL IN THAT ROOM BY THE TIME YOU HAD TO LEAVE THE OFFICE.

You decided to stay a little longer, finishing up the last of the tasks he’d assigned to you, and an hour later, when Seungmin passed your desk to exit the building, he darted his eyes to his boss’ door and wiggled his brows your way.

“Shut up,” you snapped at him, earning a cheeky smile.

“I wonder what they’re doing in there,” he thought out loud, propping a hand on your table.

You typed away, trying to dismiss the worst assumptions in your mind. “I don’t particularly care.”

Seungmin, damn him, could see right through you. “Then why are you still here? Pretending that I didn’t catch you with your ear to the door hours before?”

Unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. About three hours into the meeting, you became so restless you tried to listen in on what exactly was going on. It sounded so bizarre, when Minho had to sit in hours-long meetings every other day, but him alone in his office with that girl didn’t settle well with you.

“Oh, jealousy!” Seungmin chanted, pointing at your face. “Is that you I see before me?”

“Go away!” you waved him off, glowering at him. “I’m not jealous of some girl I saw today. Her and Minho can do whatever they want.”

“Whatever you say, ____,” he said, but the knowing smile lingered, aggravating you even more. “Good night.”

“Good night, Min,” you muttered, waiting for the man to turn out of the building before swinging in your chair.

The door welcomed you still.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Now see, you should not be letting your mind wander. Especially in situations which included your boss, another girl, and closed doors. Your gut twisted at the thought, and you were surprised at such a reaction.

What if Seungmin was right?

“No!” you whispered furiously to yourself, turning back to your computer. “Not jealous, just curious.”

Yes, that’s right. Just interested to know what the fuck they’re talking so long for.

“Oh God,” you breathed out, pressing your legs together. Maybe your friend was right. “Shit.”

Suddenly, you got up from your seat, picking up any scrap of paper and hurrying to the door. Pressing your ear to the misted glass, fingers clasping the metal handle. You could hear soft murmurs, a little laughter, but other than that, you failed to hear anything coherent.

This brought you even more agitation upon you. Doing something wrong, and it wasn’t even going as planned. This is what happened when you let yourself feel something.

Oh, no. Now you even admitted it to yourself that you had felt something for the asshole. If he ever heard of this, you would probably have to quit this job.

You pressed harder on the handle, never been more frustrated in your life than you were at that time. You were pathetic. Utterly disgraceful, but you could not help when you could not deny that Lee Minho-

You could not finish the thought.

Not when your hand slid on the handle too hard, swinging open the door. You let out a shrill screech as you stumbled inside the office, papers leaving your hands.

The conversation ceased, and you did not need to see them to know their eyes were on you.

Minho’s honey voice filled the room.

“What is this intrusion?”

You looked up, and felt your heart stop.

There he was, sitting leaned back at his plush executive chair, spinning a pen between his fingers. His brown locks were now raked back, a few strays cascading on the side of his forehead. His blazer was off, hung on his chair, and his shirt was tight on his hard chest.

Steadying yourself, but not your butterflies inside, you also saw Miss Kim hovering over him, showing him a few documents with her head a little close to his. She glanced up at you, and her face soured.

Minho snapped his fingers, shaking you out of your staring. “I asked you a question, ____.”

You wanted to snap at him, but reigned it in. “Sorry, but…”

But what? Not like you came in here with a plan.

Your eyes slid down to fallen files on the floor. “I needed to discuss...a proposal!”

Kneeling down, you picked up the scattered pieces of paper, on your feet in an instant. “Yes. A business proposal I needed to talk about.”

The man was not stupid; he saw right through your feeble excuse, with the impish gleam in his gaze. “Is that so?”

“What else would it be?” you pressed, masking your growing nerves with your irked frown.

His lips began to curve. You both stared each other down, refusing to back away. Miss Kim cleared her throat, even more angered by you now receiving his full attention.

“Shall I continue or…?” she carried off, completely deprived of his regard. Only when you glanced at her did his smile waver, raising the file.

He kept his eyes on you. “We can review this later,” he said to Miss Kim. He then addressed you. “And this time I’ll have an actual meeting planned. Happy, ____?”

You couldn’t suppress a scoff, not gone unnoticed yet unaddressed, as the woman took the files from him. She sent him a dazzling smile. “I will see you later, Mr. Lee.”

He returned it with a nod, watching her stroll past you, and out of the office. You watched the door close itself, sensing the silence more now the two of you were alone.

The quiet stretched on for longer before a hard sigh had you facing your boss once again.

“Beautiful, isn’t she,” he began, observing you from his rather messy desk.

That little comment of his pissed you right off. “The prettiest, in my opinion,” you crowed, gripping onto the files harder.

You then caught the shit-eating grin upon his face, and marred your face in a frown, causing him to splutter into laughter.

“Stop laughing,” you spat, but that only made him more breathless. “Oh, I’m leaving!”

“No you’re not,” he rasped out, finally calming down. He raised a hand across the chair before his desk. “You’re going to sit down and tell me of the proposals.”

A retort was on your tongue when you stopped, taking in his order. “Proposals?”

He cocked his head slightly, stray hairs tumbling with the action. “You said when you burst into my office that-”

He halted himself, everything falling into place.

When he focused on you this time, your stomach coiled at the way his smirk lit up his face. “Are you telling me you pretended to have appointments so you’d have that woman out of my room?”

The lack of response on his question had the man chortling. “My, my. Why so jealous, doll?” He gripped onto the arms of his chair, leaving the seat. “If you wanted me alone all you had to do was ask.”

Taking a step away from the desk, his fingers drummed on the table. “I wouldn’t have insisted on making an appointment either.”

A last surge of courage passed through you, especially from his words. “And what would you have done?” you got out.

The drumming paused, more from surprise at your question.

His piercing stare positively flared. “I don’t think you’d be able to handle it,” he guttered.

I don’t think you’d be able to handle it.

You didn’t know why that enraged you so much.

The cat and mouse game, once again being deflated by his words, leaving you disappointed. Why should you accept defeat this time?

You made sure he heard your thoughts.

“God, you really are a fucking prick!”

A pause. “Why would that be?” He took a step towards you, sharp brows furrowing.

“You…” staring at him, you screwed your face up in anger. “Toying with me all this time, yet doing nothing about it!”

That fine eyebrow was raised, but you carried on, refusing to let him speak. “Every single day, without fail, we see each other, bicker back and forth, and for what? Me all frustrated and you just enjoying it?”

You made sure you knifed your boss with a glare. “You just say words and leave. That’s all you can do.”

There was an eerie stillness after that — a slight shift in Minho’s demeanour, as his eyes narrowed, darkened at your claim. His hands, in his pockets before, slid out, and you saw they were fisted tightly.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me perfectly, sir,” you spat, that damned word he made sure you said every time . “You’re all bark and no bite.

“You’re a fucking coward.”

There it was.

The allegation against him. The words you’ve been wanting to say for so long, because you let yourself feel something for this man, and fuck, if he did not do anything about it you would quit this job here and now.

His next words were a mere whisper. They did not possess a hint of softness.

“Do you really think that?”

Another step.

Veins, slight before, we’re now more visible on his hands, trailing all the way up to the edge of the rolled up sleeves. When you caught his gaze, you nearly gasped at the pure, carnal fire that blazed within.

“Calling me a coward.”

Before you knew it, the man thundered towards you, and those veiny hands gripped your waist, pulling you to him in an iron grip. A small hiss escaped you at the sudden restraint.

“Don’t you dare call me a fucking coward again.”

His breath fanned your mouth, you mere inches from him. You made sure you kept your ground till the very end. Wherever that led you.

“Or what?” Your hands slid up to his shoulders. “Not like you would do anything. As per usual.”

And as the heavy silence reigned on the both of you, you had a little realisation.

Those words might have just been your undoing.

Because the second they left your tongue, Lee Minho growled fiercely before colliding his lips against yours.

His mouth snatched the very breath from you, an instant whine trying to escape yet refused by his lips, capturing yours and taking you with the strength of a wild beast. You nearly fell backwards from the pure momentum but were saved by his hands on you, branding their place on your skin.

The most surprising part was how you kissed him back with the same anger. The same rage which simmered the very first day you argued with him, and vowed to make his life a living hell, just like how he made yours unbearable during work. He captured your lower lip and began sucking on the flesh, and an obscenely loud moan escaped you at the contact.

The bastard was good. He was so, fucking good.

Just when you thought he’d go deeper, he pulled away, a thin bridge of saliva connecting the both of yours lips.

The trail broke when he took a step back, settling himself on his seat. That glistening mouth curved into a feline smirk, thumb stroking his lower lip.

“Still a coward, doll?”

You nearly collapsed without his hold. He took notice of your position, and scoffed at your weakness. “Looks like you took up the role instead.”

“How is that,” you rasped out, breath still uneven. “When you’re the one who stopped to sit down?”

Taking a step before him, your knees brushed against his own. “Looks like grandpa needs a rest.”

The comment had Minho’s eyes set ablaze. “You fucking—”

His hands reached out, tugging you upon him as he stayed seated. Your legs kneeled on either side of him, straddling him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, willingly accepting his lips. They worked so hypnotically with yours that you did not realise them opening your mouth completely, with his tongue sliding inside. He explored everywhere, finding your own tongue and swirling it along with his, ruining any chance of you suppressing your groaning at his actions.

Perhaps Minho took notice of your stubbornness, because his hands landed on your thighs, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt. You let the groan free as he hitched the fabric higher, higher, higher, removing himself from your lips and descending down, pouncing on a particular patch of skin on your neck.

“Already so—” he sucked hard on your neck, revelling in your whines, “—already so loud when I’ve only just kissed you?”

“Fuck you,” you breathed out, digging his nails into his shirt. He cackled at your response, sinking his teeth and creating the first bruise of the evening.

“I’m gonna have to teach you some manners,” he whispered onto your skin, raising your skirt high enough that your intricate lacing of your lingerie, black as the night, began to show. Minho practically salivated at the image; you knew from the raging lining beneath his trousers.

“All talk,” you merely said, despite the uneven breathing. “All talk and no action.”

His thumbs pressed into your thighs, ceasing your words with a little whine. It had the man capturing your lips again, pulling you down with his hands on your legs, closing any distance between you two, needing to have you all over him. Your lips swelled, bruised by the rough handling of your boss’ mouth, ravaging you in ways you didn’t dare dream of. His fingers, trailing up your skin once again, curled under the waistband of your underwear.

Your heart hammered in your chest at his touch. He was being too slow, too damn slow while you dripped with the beginning of arousal, making you a shuddering mess.

Lee Minho was about to slide the lace down when a shrill call flooded the room.

Both of you stopped dead in your tracks. The man whirled to the origins of the sound, coming from his wide open laptop — a notification for joining a meeting call popped up on the screen, automatically picking up in about five seconds.

Your boss nearly had a heart attack.

With quick thinking, Minho pried you off him, practically dumping you upon the floor with a slight groan. His hands gathered you under the table, pressing a finger to your lips with a stern look before disappearing up on his desk.

You let out a deliberately loud scoff just before he accepted the call, fingers swiping down to pinch you for calling out. You could not see his face, only from the navel down, sat right before you, caging you with his legs.

“Ah, Mr. Lee!”

A gasp almost escaped you, but remembered his glare and actually stopped. One make out session and you already obeyed him like a servant.

Over your dead body.

Your boss’ low growl had you widening your eyes. “What do you want, Chan?”

The hazy answer revealed his employee’s concern. “Mr. Lee, are you okay?” You heard him say through the laptop speaker.

You saw Minho’s leg start bouncing rapidly, and although you could not see his expression, you knew that he was, most definitely, pissed off. “I’m perfect. Fantastic even. Now what do you want?”

You were ready to sit still, wait through the meeting as Chan’s uncertain voice spoke of some specific business deals that needed to be confirmed, few details that needed to be checked over. However, the way your arousal still dripped, ever so slowly, was a weight, reminding you of the activities occurring mere moments before. You didn’t even bother to pull your skirt down.

It was settled. You needed this problem of yours solved now, or never.

Fortunately for you, your solution was presented to you, right before your eyes, and right between Minho’s legs.

His cock still stood, erect against the lining of his trousers.

You gulped at the sight. The bastard was mean, flaunting it all before you, knowing you would have thrust it straight in your mouth if you hadn’t been interrupted.

A spark ignited within you. Why should it stop you now?

Oh God. Why were you suddenly becoming so bold? Was it you, being so turned on that you needed your needs met without wait? Whatever the reason, you found nothing to argue against it.

If Minho was playing games with you, then you would play along with him.

Hands stretching on the floor, you crawled towards him, settling yourself between the space his legs created. Kneeling slightly, your fingers extended towards the zipper on his trousers, prying it down.

The man stilled under your touch.

Head protruding from the edge of the table, you spied Minho’s eyes, ever so carefully darting down to you, his mouth parting slightly under the cover of his hand. He hummed at Chan’s words, but you knew his interest was rooted only to you and your daring fingers.

When you unzipped his trousers, ready to peel them down, his other hand, out of the sight of the laptop, caught your wrist. His grip dug into your skin, stopping you in your tracks.

You looked up at him, making sure you expose your desperation in your eyes. His own widened, only for a second before dragging them back on the screen. A smirk curved onto your lips, knowing he was so affected by your mere actions. How you dared to toy with your boss.

The pout-like expression paid off, when the grip on your wrist loosened. Hurriedly your hands went to the waistband of his trousers, pulling the fabric down, and you had to commend Minho’s ability to look so calm when you were practically drooling at the sight that welcomed you.

You did not even bother to pull the pants right down, stopping just under his knees as you admired his finely sculpted thighs. It was no secret that your boss worked out everyday after he was done with meetings, and every time you caught evidence of his toils you wished you didn’t inwardly moan at the sight. His taut muscle stretched all the way up to his underwear, slightly soiled at the tip of his dick, outlined against the fabric.

Minho glanced down for a second at his antics, and when he looked back at the laptop again there was a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“Chan, hurry and finish this up,” he jeered.

This was enough signal to start peeling his boxers down too.

Your eyes nearly popped out of your sockets when you saw his cock spring free, curving proudly with its tip inches from his abdomen. The top glistened with the pre-cum, trailing down the length.

Oh dear God.

Your index, on instinct, reached out, cutting the white trail as you journeyed up the shaft. Minho’s low, barely audible growl had you shivering.

“Mr. Lee, you don’t look so well,” you heard the hazy worry of your coworker. You couldn’t help the giggle, and Minho’s side glare had you grinning.

He was not the one in control at the moment.

“I said I’m fine, Chan,” he snapped, and when you swiped up the remaining pre-cum on the head his dick twitched, a choked breath escaping. “Perfectly fine!”

“Uh, okay, then, this won’t take much longer…”

You, on the other hand, were just getting started.

Fingers, first stroking up the shaft, now wrapped around his cock, and with your heart in your throat you began a slow rhythm of sliding your hand up and down. Glancing up, you caught the colour of his face draining, using every ounce of his strength not to groan out loud.

You savoured the harsh tick in his jaw, quickening your pace and watched the man lose his cool, nerves in his neck protruding. Oh God, he was on the edge of his patience. It only encouraged your risky behaviour, dick hardening even more beneath your touch.

Still, there was no vocal outcry, to your irritation. You wanted to embarrass him during his meeting. Make him shut that laptop and moan out what he’s feeling. With these goals in mind, you cupped the base, and snuck a little closer, your face mere inches from his cock.

Taking one last peek at his paled face, you brought out your tongue and slid it along the head.

A soft groan emitted from your boss.

Chan’s monologuing of events paused, but the look on Minho’s face had him hurriedly continuing, while you progressed on, lapping up the remaining pre-cum you couldn’t catch with your index. You were never fond of the taste, but you took it in anyway, just to see the bastard’s mouth part in a way which had you almost leaking too.

Done with the soft, kitty licks, you hung on to your courage as you opened your mouth a little wider, taking in the head with your lips. Your hands stay wrapped around his cock as you, slowly, so slowly, went down, taking in inch by inch.

Minho’s fist smacked against the desk.

“Mr. Lee—”

“Ask me again, and you’re fired,” your boss guttered, hips sliding forward to push his cock further into your mouth. You nearly gagged at the action, but take it all in, obliging him because then you created a pattern of bobbing your head. Up and down, going easy, relaxed at first, you were sure Lee Minho was going to bring down his office.

But he didn’t.

And all because of that fucking meeting.

Suddenly angered, you did not bother fastening your pace, ready to give him blue balls for not reacting to your touches. Your mouth was back on top, lips still wrapped around the head, when you looked up at your boss through your lashes.

He stared down at you. Widened his eyes at the sight of you still enveloping his cock with your mouth, your gaze revealing the irritation of his lack of response.

Oh, he’ll give you something to work with.

His hand immediately when to the back of your head, stopping you from leaving as the other hand grabbed at the laptop screen.

Chan knew exactly what he was about to do. “Mr. Lee, I still have one more thing—”

You did not hear anymore, hearing the sharp SNAP! of the laptop shutting.

The silence returned, but did not stay for long as, gradually, Minho looked down at you, properly this time, and offered you such a lust-filled stare you were glad you did not leave your place upon his cock.

“Did you really think, doll,” he whispered, running his fingers through your hair, “That I was going to let you leave me? Just like that?”

You did not answer back — obviously, because your mouth was a little occupied, but you raised your brows at him, hands tightening at his base. He let out a shuddered breath, chuckling.

“Still a brat, hmm? At least you’re not talking back.”

He tugged harder at your locks. “If this was the way to shut you up, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Although your cheeks burned, you made sure to shut him up when you started your flow once again, closing your eyes as you went up and down on him.

Only this time, you had a little assistance.

Minho’s groaning roamed the room, like sweet music to your ears as you gradually fastened, working his dick with your hands too. Instinctively, the man bucked his hips into you, needing to have all of his inches in your mouth, needing to release all that pent up frustration that you created for him.

He said as much.

“Look at you,” he rasped up at you, curling away flyaways from your face as you worked on him. “Taking all of my cock…ah, all of my cock in your pretty little mouth.”

His filth was encouragement, and as you were sucking harder you could tell he was getting near. Pride washed over you, as your one of your hands reached out to play with his balls, earning a harsh moan from his lips.

“Ah—keep going, doll,” he rasped, his hips straying from a solid rhythm, knowing he’s going to let go soon if you kept up at this rate. “Doing so well.”

Perhaps these pieces of praise had you looking up, making sure he was watching as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him all in fully, a slight curve to your lips.

The absolute sin in the image of you kneeling before him, with his full length in you, had him crying out. He could not control the release that shot into your throat, pouring down and making you gag at its suddenness. Still, you took it all in, accepted the cum instead of spitting it out.

When he was finished, slightly heaving, his eyes danced at you slowly swallowing it down, a challenge in the quirk of your brow. Sweat beaded down at your forehead, but knowing you had Minho moaning over your skill was something to take pride in.

Lapping up the remaining cum, you swiped it off with the back of your hand. “Nice meeting, sir?”

The man could only laugh at your comment, so normal despite the situation. ”Adequate,” he drawled, pulling his boxers and trousers up as he cleaned off his dick. “But there’s still much to discuss.”

He wheeled his chair back, arms wrapping around you to free you from under the desk. You were glad of his help, for your legs were near-buckling. He noticed this too, for a smirk began to play on his lips.

Leaving you for a just a moment, he turned to his desk. He threw all his work off the top, paper and stationary flying from the table and scattering onto the floor. His laptop was thrusted at the ends of the table, unable to be a distraction.

“Hey, your papers will be all messed up,” you started, but he surprised you with a heart-searing kiss, making you almost collapse. You let his tongue slide inside instantly, hands gripping harder onto your hips as he tasted his release on your tongue, and when he roughly tugged on your lower lip, you gasped lightly at the harsh treatment.

He backed you further, the back of your upper thighs hitting his desk, and when he left your lips, his dark gaze had you weakened.

“I don’t really give a fuck about the papers right now, doll.”

You would have leaked out your arousal there and then. “Minho—”

“Did I tell you to call me Minho?” He demanded, fingers digging into your hips. Dazed, you tilted your head, only wanting his tongue down your throat again.

Catching the expression, he shook his head. “I’ll let you off today because you’re being a good little bitch this time.”

Dear God, you hated how you loved being called that.

His tongue working on your neck had you whimpering. “It’s sir to you, understand?”

You already had a counterpoint to piss him off with, but the animalistic threat in his eyes had you gulping. “Yes sir.”

The title had him going hard all over again. He teethed another hickey onto your skin, finding solace in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten you all wet for me before, doll,” he whispered, hands sliding down, gripping the hem of your skirt. He hurriedly hitched it upwards, bunching it at your hips.

His fingers skimmed over your thighs before feeling the soft silk of your black lingerie, a familiar sight. “Ah, see?” His sole index traced over the front, dipping the fabric in your slit, already staining with your arousal. “All wet, just for me.”

“Stop it,” you whined, hands on his shoulders. “Stop teasing.”

“Since when do you order me around, ____?” He crowed, palming your clothed cunt, completely ignoring your demands. A ragged breath escaped you at the friction, so pleasurably wonderful you feared what would happen to you when he plays with you without the thin layer.

His attitude, however, still pissed you right off.

“I’ll be dried up by the time you start,” you seethed at him, nails digging into his shoulders. Provoking him was your only option, to get him to stop beating around and rail you on his desk.

“I don’t think so, doll,” he purred, other hand playing with the bands of your panties. You were about to snap when he hooked a finger over the hem of the lace and slid the underwear right down, just above your knee, and your breathing hitched as you found his gaze rooted to your now exposed cunt, already glistening from your arousal.

Minho’s mouth was practically salivating.

Despite the nerves growing in your belly, you still snapped him out of his mind drooling. “Are you going to just keep staring? Because that isn’t going to make me cum.”

His eyes slid to you, and shit, you could tell how much he wanted to beat your ass for your useless commentary. “Don’t make me shut you up again.”

“Talk, talk, talk,” you provoked, grabbing hold of his black tie.

A primal growl emitted from his throat, and when his fingers began skimming over the surface, you let out a whimper. “Oh, so my little doll wants to cum all over my fingers, then?” he muttered, eyes gleaming with an indecipherable goal.

His dirty words, along with him playing over your folds, had your stomach all knotted up. It was this tight feeling which had you breathing out, “Yes sir.”

The title at the end which had him slipping the first finger inside of you.

The feeling of his index sliding inside had you moaning much too loud for an action so small. Minho thoroughly enjoyed your reaction, finger almost fully inside when he palmed your core as well, already had you halfway there to your own undoing.

When his finger was up to the knuckle, his other hand found refuge in your locks, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your throat. He began to slowly pull out, creating the same gradual rhythm you had when your mouth was on his cock before. When only the pad of his finger was inside, he thrust back in, making you whine at the rush.

If that was not enough, a second finger joined in on his labour, stretching your walls and you hissed at the snugness of his digits in your cunt, continuing that pattern which had you crying out from pure ecstasy. Damn the bastard, but he was so good at making you helpless.

A deep feeling settled in your gut, and you knew if he kept up at this, you were going to cum all over him. “I-I’m close,” you got out, wrapping your hand around the tie further, pulling him even closer.

Minho, satisfied with creating a painting of lovebites upon your neck, locked your gaze with his. You were surprised to find sinister mischief in his eyes. “My babydoll is going to cum, now?” he questioned, further puzzled to hear softness in his usual fire-like voice. You nodded desperately, praying that he finger-fucks you after this calm. All you desired now was sweet release.

Which was why you cried out in protest when he slipped his fingers out entirely.

Your lust-hazed eyes looked at him, all wide. “Wh-what?”

The arousal-stained fingers gripped your thigh, a small yelp escaping you. The man’s other hand gripped your chain, making sure you don’t break his carnal stare. “You don’t get to cum unless I say so.”

You nearly sobbed as you felt your orgasm start to fade. You knifed him with a glare, pulling him a hair’s breadth from you with the tie. “What the fuck is up with that, sir?”

His grip on your chin tightened. “Don’t argue back, doll.”

The two digits were pushed inside you once again, and still, damn your senses, your breathing hitched. “If I see release on my fingers, I’ll fuck the orgasm up, understand?”

Although the nerves were back, you wished looks could kill when you stared at him. So he’s going to keep toying with you, then?

Well. Two could play that game.

You convinced him with a timid smile, wrapping your hand around his tie all the way. “As you say, sir.”

Delighted at your response, he struck up that hypnotic flow of his fingers, slowly pumping inside of you. Of course, you relished the way he worked within you, knowing he was waiting for the final cry when he hit a specific spot, but you had to show him your place.

Instead of moaning down the office, like you wished you would, your stubbornness silenced you completely.

Even when Minho fastened his pace, making it incredibly hard for you to stay rigid, you gave him a taste of his own medicine, not a single whine escaping you, just the way he stayed angrily quiet in the meeting. His tie was your only source of venting out your frustration, pulling on it so harshly you wondered how the man’s neck hadn’t given in yet.

A strange sense of hysteria bubbled within you when your boss noticed your silence. Snarling, he dug deeper, and when he hit your g-spot, your eyes nearly burst out of your sockets.

“Being a fucking brat again?” he retorted, fingers playing with the spot until finally, a soft whine came free of your tongue. “Trying to mock me?”

You took in a ragged breath, hair a mess, courtesy of his hand. You glared and glared, but still, you refused to say anything. Refused to say a word, and when you saw his mouth twist into a scowl you savoured his anger.

He ripped his hand from your tie, loosening it from his neck. He straightened it out, every action fuelled with aggression. It made your whole body crawl with excitement.

You parted your mouth to piss him off even more when you suddenly felt a mouthful of silk, completely stopping you. Trying to whine, the tie knotted behind your head, and Minho pulled so hard it nearly stopped your blood circulation.

“Didn’t want to moan, huh?” he guttered, tying up a pretty knot beneath your locks. “Tried to be smart, did you?

The tie wedged inside your mouth stopped you from answering back, Minho taking great satisfaction in your broken mumbling. “Oh, so you wanna talk now?” he mocked, slowly descending, until his face was at level with your cunt. He looked up, and the sight had you shutting up immediately. “No, we’ll play your little game.”

His eyes resembled a demon’s. “One fucking word from you and you’ll be sorry,” he warned, hands, now on your thighs, squeezing the muscle. The anger was so cold you only nodded erratically, fingers gripping the edge of the table.

Spreading your legs a slight, he closed the distance, tongue opening the seams and licking the surface.

You could not help the stifled moan which worked its way out the gag.

Retracting at your reaction, he glanced up, fingers digging into your skin. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he growled, trailing down your inner thigh. That command alone had you in near tears.

He didn’t wait for your incoherable answer as he dived right back in, tongue now licking your clit in a way which had you seeing stars, along with the added assault of his two digits pumping your core. He immediately found your sweet spot and curled his fingers, knowing you would melt right on his face.

Because the gag worked wonders in ceasing your words, you had to vent out your release through gripping Minho’s hair, pushing further, begging him to just let you cum all over his face. The man was a mean prick, though, and wouldn’t ever give you that satisfaction.

His fingers increased their tempo, in and out, and your orgasm was right on the edge, threatening to wash over you if he didn’t stop. You whined as much as you could this time, praying he understood what you meant, and not just you provoking him further.

You tried to curse yourself at how pathetic you were in that state, but you were honestly so fucked out you didn’t particularly care. All you wanted now was for Minho to ruin you.

The man, taking notice of your cries, paused his licking, fingers still at their thrusting. His eyes still up at your ravaged state, and you nearly undid yourself at the pure pride that shone in his gaze. “Does my little brat wanna cum all over my face?” he cooed darkly, and you could not nod fast enough, earning a husky chuckle from him.

“Will you talk back?” God, an even faster shake of your head, eyes glistening. “You better fucking not.” he sighed, blowing on your cunt which had you wailing into the silk. “Well, since the gag’s still on…”

He offered you a small grin, enough to drive you insane.

“Go on then, you fucking slut. Cum on my face.”

His mouth was upon your cunt in seconds, just in time for you crying out into the tie-gag as you released your orgasm, creating a mess of him as you spilled yourself onto his tongue, his chin, everywhere, barely avoiding the office floor. Minho slowed his pumping inside, eventually ceasing as he took in your release, pulling away.

You caught the slight spillage scattered on his chin, and he slid his tongue down, looking up at you with feline amusement. “All that bitching, and you still cummed,” he mused, soothing your throbbing with his fingers. “Still gonna call me a coward?”

He stood, his clothed hard on rubbing against your folds, and you knew you that despite the orgasm, you needed more. His mere fingers, however heavenly, were not enough.

His one hand cupped your head while the other tugged on the gag, pulling it down from your mouth. You coughed lightly at the freedom, desire swirling in your features still. “I…” you started, but your throat still hurt. “I…”

“Use you words, doll,” he ordered, unravelling the knot on his tie behind you. “God knows you use them too well.”

“F-fuck...you,” you rasped out, causing him to raise a brow.

“Still got attitude?” He traced his thumb over your cheek. “Despite you whining like a little bitch to let you cum?”

His hands left your face, sliding to your thighs as he gripped onto them, having you sit on the desk. He then moved down further, tossing your lingerie before wrapping your legs around his waist.

Leaning in, his chuckle tickled your lips. “Guess I’m gonna have to fuck the brat out of you.”

That alone would have had you moaning if Minho didn’t shut you up with a rough kiss, fingers sloppily unbuttoning your shirt. He sucked on your tongue, failing to take the shirt off, and with a harsh groan ripped the parting, buttons popping to the floor. He peeled the attire off you, dumping it with your panties, and when he pulled away, he took in your intricately laced bra, and his malice was replaced with pure, unadulterated lust.

“God, I’m going to ruin you, doll.”

You answered with capturing his mouth, nibbling on his bottom lip, his clothed boner creating friction against your inner thighs. His hands ravaged all over your exposed skin, while your own returned the favour, unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off. You ran your fingers up his abdomen, the granite solidity having you rolling your hips against him. Smiling against your lips, you felt his hands descend, gripping at the underside of your thighs before he lifted you up.

You gasped lightly, wrapping your hands around his neck as Minho, while leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, collarbone, tongue sliding along, turned around, your back to the full view of the nightlife of the city, revealed through floor length windows of his office all around. Walking towards it, he backed you up against the glass, the cold sending shivers down your spine. That, and Minho leaving core-shaking kisses upon your skin, as he began to unhook your bra strap, tearing the lingerie off you.

“Minho!” you exclaimed, when he planted his lips upon your bare breast, sole finger playing with the other. Hearing his name had him grinding against you, making you whimper.

He went up, erratic breathing entering your ears. “It’s sir to you,” he snapped, before diving back in on your breast, licking over your nipple so thoroughly that you felt that overgrowing need to release once again. Again, with the teasing, the playing, when all you needed was his cock to fill you right up.

“Sir, p-please,” you begged, your legs locked tightly behind him.

“Please what, doll?” he hissed onto your skin, one hand tracing your throat.

One more thrust of his hips and your eyes pricked with tears. “P-please fuck me, sir,” the knots in your belly growing.

“Finally,” he breathed out, thumbing your neck, softly compared to the hard on you were practically sitting on. “You’re not being a little bitch.”

One hand still clasped around his neck, you brought the other down to his trousers. Looking up at him, he almost softened.

“Now you’re asking permission?” he cooed, straying from your breasts. “Being a good girl for me?”

You never had an idea on how much that affected you. “Don’t push it,” you countered, a tired smirk still playing on your lips.

“Go on, doll,” he said, hitching you higher on the glass, moistening with the sweat beading down your back. “But I like you better when you beg.”

“Let’s see if you-ah!” you were cut off when you pulled his trousers down, and his cock tried to burst from his stained underwear, rubbing against your cunt much too deliciously. “Fuck me hard enough.”

“Stop running your mouth and pull my boxers off,” he ordered, and this you willingly obliged, careful of your leg-lock as you peeled them down to his knees, he getting them clean off. When his cock sprung free, you were salivating at the sight, angry red and ready to have it inside of you.

When he caught your blatant staring, he snapped his fingers. “Careful, or you’ll start cumming without my permission.”

Your widened eyes darted to him, and your lack of response had him actually laughing. “Already forgotten your words?” he mocked, fingers gripping your chin. “My babydoll is getting dumb staring at my cock.”

“Please, sir,” you murmured, locking your hands behind his neck. “P-please fuck me.”

Minho let out a pleasured sigh at your pleading. “As you wish, ____.”

Pressing his forehead against yours, he clasped his cock, directing the tip to your entrance, already staining the surface with its pre-cum. His other hand gripped onto your hip, steadying you against the glass, now slightly misted.

“Ready?” he asked, surprised to hear a little softness as he caressed your hip with his thumb.

You nodded against his forehead, parting your mouth. “Yes, sir.”

A little scoff escaped him. “Good girl.”

That was all he needed before he began the final descent.

His cock slid inside, and your breathing turned irregular as your walls stretched slightly at the intrusion. He went further and further, moving ever so slowly to let you adjust. Lord knows you needed to, when his dick was so big.

“O-oh my God—” you stumbled out, feeling as if the man had filled you right up to your gut when he was finished. You kept deathly still, fearing you might shatter if you even moved the wrong way.

“It’s okay, doll,” he reassured you, hand leaving his cock and settling upon your other hip. “Whenever you’re set.”

“I’m good,” you said, more scared that you would cum right onto his dick if he tried to move inside you. “Stop worrying and...and fuck me already.”

His thumbs pressed harder on your sides, a pleasured sting ringing. “Now I won’t regret it if you can’t walk after this.”

A ragged scoff escaped you. “We’ll see about that-”

Well, you really couldn’t when Minho began to pull out.

Your mockery was cut off with a shrill cry, hold tightening on him as his cock slowly slid out. The gradual process was so pleasurable you had to hold onto him for dear life, or you knew you would collapse onto the office floor. The man made sure that never happened, grip on your sides never slipping, pressing you against the warming glass.

“I’ve only just started,” he drawled breathlessly, still relishing how loud you were being despite him merely beginning. “Has my babydoll never been fucked before?”

You had, but never had anyone made you so weakened by a simple pull out. In fact, your sexual life was average at best, but you telling him that he would, by far, be the biggest mistake. He’s already got an ego the size of his cock - you were not going to inflate it any larger.

“H-have been,” you gasped out. “B-better even.”

That false claim had him knitting his brows in anger. He thrusted his dick right back in, and another whine choked out of you.

“Liar,” he spat, filling you right to the brim. “Lying to me when my cock’s inside you.”

God, the rage that filled his veins was pure ecstasy in your mind. Good, you thought, making sure you chuckled at him. Provoke him till he breaks you.

“H-he was so much-argh!” you just couldn’t get a word out when he began to pull out once more, Minho now attacking your neck with his lips, bruised patches of your skin as he started up a painfully delightful rhythm of pushing and pulling his cock into you.

“Go on, you fucking brat,” he snarled onto your throat, licking up the column. “Try and tell me there was anyone better.”

You were on to tell him, gloat breathlessly that there were all these obviously real people who had fucked you into oblivion, but when his fingers began to prod at your clit those lies were replaced with thundering mewls, nails digging into his back.

Fastening his pace, you rolled your eyes back, head hitting the glass. Minho, watching you, slammed his hips forward, hitching you upward with the sheer force of his cock and snapping you out of your haze, making you look at him.

“I asked you something, doll,” he demanded with rich sarcasm, fingers never stopping on your clit, nearly taking you over the edge. When the head of his dick hit a certain spot, deep into your core, you couldn’t even control the slight drool which trailed down your spit-slick lips.

Minho’s dark laughter only had the knots tightening in your belly. “Awww, my babydoll’s so fucked out she can’t even speak?” his mouth curled into a smirk. “Only a useless set of holes for me to toy with, aren’t you?”

You thought you said something, hopefully something to shut him up, but when your orgasm was right at the tip of your cunt you knew it was as the bastard said - useless.

As you predicted, Minho quickened his fingers on your bud. “Worthless fucking bitch,” he mocked mercilessly, practically branding you against the glass. With the sheer anger he fucked you with, you were scared the windows would crack. You wouldn’t put it past him.

“C-close, sir,” you finally got out, managed to formulate the only words you needed at that moment. Your boss, at this, only increased his pace of his erratic thrusts, practically decimating your cunt with his cock. You had a feeling among the lust-filled haze of your mind that he, too, was getting close, with the way his flow turned sloppy.

“And…” he took in a sharp breath. “And what about it?”

Oh, you knew what his last game was. Permission from him, pleading to let you spill your arousal all over his cock.

In any normal circumstance, you would have laughed at their face. Made sure they never asked something so atrocious.

Lee Minho, however, was another case entirely. Not when he was your lifeline, the only one in the universe who could save you from this impending doom. Even though he was the bastard who brought it down on you in the first place.

So you did what possibly no human being could ever ask of you.

You pleaded.

Practically begged to let you feel sweet release.

“Can I…” another soft cry left your lips. “F-fuck, please...can I cum?”

Minho imprisoned you with his gaze. Locks sticking to his forehead, mouth parted in desire, and pupils dilated, you still found him so utterly beautiful, despite the wilderness beneath. Found him even more so when he finally decided to show you some mercy.

“Go on, babydoll. Cum for me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Your vision nearly blacked out when you obliged, orgasm spilling out from the tight spaces between your walls and his cock, dribbling down your legs and dripping onto the office carpet. The sight of your spillage had Minho finishing off his own thrusts, releasing an earth-shattering cry as he barrelled his own release into you, ropes of cum spilling out of your cunt, joining your mess on the floor.

A slight peaceful stillness settled over the office, save for the both of you, breathing as if you had been underwater this whole time. Minho’s cock was still inside you, snug around your moistened walls. Slowly, he pulled it out, hanging limp from use, and your cunt felt hollow, emptier than it has ever felt before.

You unlocked your legs from his waist, immediately regretting the action when they gave out under you. Collapsing onto Minho, you were instantly met with his arms, holding you up.

“Careful,” he muttered, leading you to his chair, settling you down on the plush leather. He pulled his boxers up, along with his trousers, finding your own attire on the floor and placing it on your lap.

Smiling lazily, you started adorning your rather dirtied attire. “A good business proposal, no?” you mused, referring to your terrible excuse at the beginning of the evening.

Remembering, he chuckled, putting on his shirt. “I never bought that anyway, doll,” he merely said, buttoning to the top. “I knew you were jealous.”

Cheeks burning, you mumbled a little shut up, earning yourself a grin from the man. Finding your own shirt useless from Minho ripping it open, you said so to the man. “Look what you’ve done to my top”

He only spared it a glance before grabbing his tie, stained with your saliva. “Look what you’ve done to my tie.”

“That was your own fault,” you remarked, hoping your blazer would cover your front up. “You put the gag on me, prick.”

“Feeling brave already?” Minho purred, already putting you on a familiar edge. “Thought I’d fucked the brat out of you by now.”

Oh, he really did. He truly made you his little bitch not moments ago, and perhaps that would be rooted in you for the future.

But of course, you’re not going to tell him that.

You stood up from his chair, slipping into your heels. His eyes watched you as you walked to the door, opening it wide.

You looked back, catching something akin to wonder in his gaze.

“It’s going to take a little more than that, sir,” you declared, and left the room, closing the door behind you.

And as you prepared to leave the building, Lee Minho stayed rooted in his office, feeling his insides go wild all over.

It’s going to take a little more than that, sir.

Oh, God.

The man scoffed.

“Fucking brat.”

“I DEMAND TO BE LET IN!”

Once again, you rolled your eyes at Miss Kim, who was now adorned in magenta, long boots tapping against the marble floor.

“Mr. Lee is busy, Miss Kim,” you told her for the umpteenth time, refusing to believe that one seemingly intelligent woman, who had her own business, could be so thick-headed. “If you would just sit down—”

“You don’t tell me what to do,” she snapped, pointing an acrylic-painted finger at you. “I am a special client of Mr. Lee’s, and don’t need an appointment.”

You let out a sharp breath through your nose. It had not even been two days before she was back at the office, demanding Minho’s presence for the continuation of her meeting before you interrupted them.

A small smile caught onto your lips. Thank God you did.

“Hey!”

You perked up, brows instantly furrowing. “Miss Kim, just like the last time, I cannot help you. I can only give you entrance inside if you have an official appointment.”

Letting out a harsh laugh, she shook her head, wiggling the same finger at you. “Miss whatever your name is, I don’t like to have my time wasted, and you certainly are wasting my time. If I say I want to see Mr. Lee then you better damn well let me see Mr. Lee!”

Your mouth nearly opened to snap back at her when the glass door beside you swung open, and out stepped the CEO himself, who possessed the same irritation on his face as you did as he leaned his figure against the doorway.

“What is this constant racket?” he complained to no one in particular, and when his eyes fell upon his unofficial client he stopped. “Oh, good afternoon Miss Kim.”

“Mr. Lee, your little assistant is being difficult once again,” the woman declared, glaring at you. “She did this the last time I was here, and even when you let me in she’s doing the same thing again.”

“Oh, really now?” Minho got out. He turned to you, his dashing face exposing slight amusement at the claim. “Is that so, ____?”

You fought the urge to smirk at him. “She does not have an appointment,” you explained, spinning your pencil to avoid his searing gaze. “You told me only to let the people who’ve made appointments enter your office.”

Minho grinned for you. “That I did,” he confessed, eyes sliding to Miss Kim, whose smug smile faltered. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid the rules must be followed.”

The woman’s arrogance faded completely when the words left his mouth, finding herself defeated. “I see,” she said, still souring at the sight of you. “Well, I’ll phone up tomorrow morning.”

“You do that, Miss Kim,” he agreed, and watched as the woman turned on her heel, grumpily exiting the building.

The man found your eyes, and you saw them dance with mischief. You already felt your heartbeat pick up the pace when he walked over to you, planting his hands on your desk. “I need you inside the office, doll.”

Oh my God. “Whatever for, sir?” you asked innocently, trying to focus on your round of Solitaire, stark on the computer screen.

The table creaked underneath his fists at the title. “Let’s say it’s a…” he leaned in a little, careful of his employees beyond the hallway. His voice conveyed a slight husky tone. “A business proposal.”

Shivers crawled down your spine. Fuck him. Fuck him for bringing up your shitty excuse of two days ago. “I hate you,” you whispered harshly to him, despite the nerves.

His eyes never left you. “We’ll see about that when we start the meeting, doll.”

He stood straighter, opening his office door. “Now are you coming in?”

You studied the open door, the hidden opportunity that laid beyond. When you caught the growing lust in his gaze, you pressed your thighs together.

Standing up, you hurried to the doorway, earning chuckling from your boss. “Shut up, asshole,” you hissed, entering the fated office. Seeing the desk already had your cheeks burning.

“It’s sir to you, brat,” he only said, hands already on you as he closed the door.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids oneshot #lee minho imagines #lee minho smut #lee minho dark hours #stray kids dark hours #stray kids hard hours #skz smut #skz imagines #skz oneshots #minho imagines #minho smut #skz hard hours #skz dark hours #TAGS BETTER WORK THIS TIME ISTG

1K notes · View notes

searedwood · 3 years

Text

30 Day Gay Journal Prompts

This is specifically designed for Pride Month and self celebration, but this can be for literally any other use. Except hate. No hate allowed.

Day 1- Write your preferred name(s), pronouns, nice nouns (nouns you like to be referred to as), and bad nouns (nouns you don't like to be referred to as).

Day 2- Record your triggers, from really bad to not as bad to getting over it. Add any specifications or notes if you feel like you need them. This is so you can identify what makes you uncomfortable or panicked, which will help you be able to identify and avoid a situation in which you may feel threatened, uncomfortable, or panicked.

Day 3- Make a list of signs that you are having a panic attack. This will help you be able to communicate to close friends or family members what may happen in an event you become panicked. This will also help you identify when you're having a panic attack, which will help you be able to calm down. Additionally, record some ways that will help stop the panic attack. For me, some ways of calming down are to go outside, my stuffie, breathing and grounding exercises, comfort music, and puns or jokes.

Day 4- Take some time and think about what makes you happy and relaxed. Write down your comfort music, comfort videos, and comfort characters. If you have a comfort game or movie, include that as well. This is to help you identify a source of calm, relaxation, and happiness that you can easily fall back on if you are uncomfortable or scared.

Day 5- Do some research on LGBTQIA+ labels, flags, and symbols. Write down your gender identity and what it means for you. Write down your sexual and romantic orientations as well, and what they mean for you. Additionally, draw little Pride Flags and symbols beside each label. I drew the genderfaunet flag on the inside cover of my journal, along with corresponding flowers that represent what I see in my identity, as well as what I hope to integrate into myself (Snowdrop - rebirth, Chrysanthemum - truth, Rose leaves - hope, Lilacs - growth/progress, Yarrow - healing, and Narcissus - self love)

Day 6- Write down the titles of your favorite LGBTQIA+ books, movies, TV shows, and games, or titles you want to see/read/play. Do a little digging and find out what titles sound interesting. Supporting LGBTQIA+ creators is a wonderful way to celebrate Pride.

Day 7- Journaling doesn't have to be just writing. Try drawing some LGBTQIA+ inspired art, whether it's just a few doodles, a flag or two, or a beautiful painting. Dedicate this entry to expressing yourself and your identity in a way without words.

Day 8- Write gay poetry. You may not think yourself talented or particularly good at writing poems, but that doesn't mean you should keep yourself from doing it, even for a day. Poetry is a wonderful way to bend language to your will and express yourself in a way that only you have to understand. Write a poem expressing your experience in the LGBTQIA+ community, or a poem detailing your first gay crush. Whatever you feel on your heart today, put it into beautifully unique words.

Day 9- Write about the moment you realized you weren't straight or binary. Alternatively, write about the moment you learned what the LGBTQIA+ community was. Describe your feelings and thoughts in the moment, and reflect over how they have changed and evolved over time.

Day 10- Take a moment and think about where you would be if LGBTQIA+ rights have existed all along, without the need for reform laws or protests. Write down who you think you would be, how you would live, and how easy it would be to do things you can't right now. At the same time, think about the disadvantages. Consider the lack of a fight for freedom and how that may influence your opinion or thoughts.

Day 11- Write a letter to your younger self. Tell your younger self about who you are and who you've become. Give them words of encouragement about the journey ahead. Remind your younger self that no matter what happens, you turn out to be a wonderful and beautiful person.

Day 12- Write a letter to your older self. Detail your present experience as a member/ally of the LGBTQIA+ community. Present your ideas about where the community will be moving forward and how much progress society as a whole will make. Ask yourself some questions, like "How do you celebrate your identity?" Later in the future, you can come back to this letter and respond.

Day 13- Learn some phrases or words of Polari. Polari is a critically endangered language invented by young gay men living in Britain. It was also used by circus men and theatre kids. Few LGBTQIA+ people now know of the language, so there's no better time to try to revive it.

Day 14- Do some research on Pride history. Record interesting or important events that marked the history of the LGBTQIA+ community. What happened at the first Pride Parade? Who was the first advocate for gay and lesbian marriage? What was the LGBTQIA+ community like before it was acceptable to be openly queer?

Day 15- Write a letter to those that are anti-LGBTQIA+. Explain why queer rights are humans rights. Tell them that love is love. Or, if you're feeling like letting loose that anger, just tell them off. This letter is for your eyes only, so don't be afraid to get mean if it makes you feel better.

Day 16- Take a moment and think about how you wish to represent yourself. Do you want to wear skirts and dresses? Do you prefer baggy pants and a puffy jacket? Do you like wearing makeup? How do you style your hair? Record how you currently dress and look and how you wish you could dress and look. Write about how your wishes reflect your identity.

Day 17- Write some ways you can improve on the way you treat yourself. Are you hard on yourself because you just can't make the right grade? Do you obsess over how you don't fit in to your family's standards of gender and sexuality? Give yourself some love and think about how you can be nicer to yourself. Remind yourself that school grades aren't more important than your own needs. Remember that if you are in an unhealthy relationship with friends or family, it isn't your fault.

Day 18- Write about what really makes you feel like yourself. You know better than anyone what your authentic self is. So what is it? What makes you feel really... you?

Day 19- If someone described you, what would they say? This can be anything from physical appearance to personality. This can help you think about how you present yourself to others. Do you want more people to know exactly what gender you identify as? Do you not want people to know what pronouns you prefer?

Day 20- Do some research on neopronouns. If you don't use any, perhaps you'll find a set or three you feel comfortable with (if not, that's fine!) If you can't do your own research, try making up your own set! I sometimes feel semi-feminine, like just a little teaspoon of femininity, but I don't really like she/her pronouns. So, I made for myself a set that sounds similar but isn't quite there. Xe/Xer/Xers/Xerself. The 'x' is pronounced like the 's' in 'measure.' A good way to make sure you know how to use a set of neopronouns in a sentence is to use this example I got from pronouny: Today I went to the park with xer. Xe brought xer frisbee. At least, I think it was xers. By the end of the day, xe was throwing the frisbee to xerself.

Day 21- Have you heard the phrase "black sheep of the herd"? It refers to someone that doesn't really fit in to their social group. In what ways are you the black sheep? Is it because of your identity or orientation? How can you help others to see you aren't different and shouldn't be alienated? How can you encourage people to welcome LGBTQIA+ people to the herd?

Day 22- Imagine you are teaching a class of young children about LGBTQIA+, gender, and sexual/romantic orientations. What would you say? How would you encourage them to be open minded and to explore their own identities?

Day 23- With great Pride comes great hardships. There are many obstacles and difficulties when it comes to finding your true self and figuring out your identity and orientation. What hardships have you overcome? What have you learned from them?

Day 24- One of your friends comes to you about having questions about gender identity. They are questioning their own identity and seek your help and support. List some ways you would help your friend feel supported and loved while also helping them discover their identity.

Day 25- List three things you would do if you weren't afraid. (For me, these would easily be: attending Pride Parades, advocating for queer rights, and coming out)

Day 26- Take your favorite or least favorite LGBTQIA+ ship and rewrite a scene as if they were together, or list some of your favorite queer ships.

Day 27- Discover some gender-neutral terms for things like family members, romantic partners, or honorifics (Mister, Miss, Mx.). If you can't find any you find interesting or comfortable, try creating some of your own. My pibling (parent+sibling) calls me their nibling or nibkid (NB term for sibling's child).

Day 28- Have you ever wanted to write a story? Record an idea or two, or three or four, for LGBTQIA+ stories. They can be anything from lesbian princesses to a coming-of-age trans story. Maybe you'll end up planning out your best seller!

Day 29- Think about what rights aren't granted to LGBTQIA+ people. What are they? Do they directly affect you as well? How do these lack of rights make you feel? What can you do to help advocate for these rights?

Day 30- The last day of Pride Month doesn't mean it's the last day of acceptance and love. How can you spread Pride throughout the year? How can you keep and open mind and heart and advocate for LGBTQIA+ rights? Maybe set a list of goals for yourself, things you want to keep up through the year.

#queer pride #lgbt pride #gay pride #lesbian pride #asexual pride #nonbinary pride #pride #writing prompts #journal prompts #lgbtqia #lgbt #lgbt community #love is love #gay #gay journal #queer #self love #queer representation

63 notes · View notes

fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years

Text

Stepdaddy

Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n- Its here and now I lowkey wanna write more of this)

Summary- Caught in a lustful attraction, Keanu and his soon to be step daughter, fall victim to their desire. *OFC (Y/n) is over 18. (I beg you, please don’t kill me.)

Warnings- NSFW/SMUT, daddy kink, semi-public sex, infidelity (please just read the title and summary), age gap

Keanu knew it was wrong, with every fiber in his being, from the depths of his experienced mind all the way down to the very tips of his toes, he knew for certain, it was wrong. But he couldn't help himself, for though he’d prided himself on having a strict moral code, he was, at the base of it, a man. A man who could appreciate a gorgeous woman when he saw one. If only that gorgeous woman wasn’t mere months away from being his step daughter.

From the minute they’d met, Keanu had found himself urging resistance, he loved his fiancée, he did. Caroline. She was a notable, and incredibly talented designer and they’d met when the fashion house she worked with had sourced him as the face of their fall line. Falling for hadn’t been instantaneous, instead, they’d spent a few too many nights together and gotten to talking. He’d found something in her, a resting place for his weary soul, a familiarity that had yet to be discovered in anyone else. They were both well travelled, old souls and no matter where they were, as long as they were together, it felt like home. When they’d gotten together, Keanu was positive that he’d never have eyes for another. That was, until he met her daughter.

The spitting image of her mother, thought minus twenty something years in age, Y/n was jaw-droppingly stunning. From the minute she’d walked into the room, that night when she’d returned from a month-long trip to Paris with some of her friends, Keanu found it hard to tear his gaze away. She was magnetic, far more melancholic than her mother and had this sort of dark princess, too moody to be the life of the party kind of vibe. But still, there wasn’t a soul that didn’t gravitate towards her when she entered a room. Y/n was a paradox of sorts, wildly mysterious yet disarmingly charming.

After their initial introduction, just some seven or eight months prior, she’d become a staple of their Malibu household- he and Caroline had agreed that they would move into her place on the beach; it was the one thing she’d held on to after her husband’s untimely passing and where she’d raised her only child. At first, Keanu welcomed the idea, anything for his dear Caroline, though, months later, he was slowly beginning to regret it. Especially when work had taken Caroline to Italy, leaving him to often find Y/n lounging near the poolside, with her model friends and whatever lucky man had been in her good graces at that point.

They never seemed to last; the men, and every time one stopped coming around, Keanu would breathe a sigh of relief. It was ridiculous really, but he’d somehow developed the notion that if he couldn’t have her, no one else should. He wanted her, physically he ached for her, especially after seeing how the scarce fabric of her bikinis would hug her curves. And then to add insult to injury, during the stretch of her mother's absence and the short stint of one of those overly pompous surfer boys, he’d stumbled upon the most vulgar thing on his way to his and Caroline's shared bedroom.

Well, maybe ‘stumbled upon’ might have been too generous. Maybe he’d followed the sounds of strained yelps and heavy grunts all the way to a slightly ajar door that led to Y/n’s bedroom. A peek in had proven to boil his blood upon finding her with her back pressed against the dresser, panties hanging off one of her ankles and her nameless companion jerking her body into the furniture. Part of him was illogically enraged, jealous. But another part had stiffened, hardening in his pants and when he’d found the will to rip his eyes away from the scene, Keanu had stolen to his room, taking himself in his hand after a pumping some lotion from a bottle on the nearby nightstand into his palm, grunting Y/n’s name through clenched teeth as he fucked himself. After that, it was hard to look at Y/n without thinking of what he'd seen, without wishing it had been him with her that afternoon instead.

That night, long after Caroline’s return, when they had made reservations at a nearby restaurant to celebrate the green light on her latest line, Keanu, for a few dear minutes, had been able to give his fiancée his full attention. He wished it could have lasted longer, because every time his mind wandered, it made him feel guilty, but they were just heading out through the front door when Y/n sauntered in, from a hallway off to the side, head down and loose tresses, curtain her face as she secured her phone in her large clutch. She swayed her hips slowly and thin heels thumped quietly on the hardwood. “Sorry,” she breathed absently, not looking at them.

“Glad you decided to join us,” Caroline huffed and unlike Y/n, all Keanu could do was stare. And try to not drool. Her black dress was skin tight, sporting a high slit at her left thigh as if its already lacking hem didn’t boast her smooth legs. Spaghetti straps supported a dangerously low neckline and he had to actively avoid ogling at how her full breasts seemed pushed together. A bright ruby pendant drew attention to her cleavage, while similar stones shone on the ear that she’d tucked some of her hair behind, though, none of the exquisite stones were as deep or dark as her full lips, caught in a perpetual pout.

As she lifted her head, Y/n rolled her eyes, sighing softly as she met her mother’s fallen expression, her own softening as she spoke next, “I said I was sorry,” Y/n sighed again, approaching her mother and seemingly ignoring him at her side. As Y/n leaned in to peck Caroline’s cheek though, her bare arm brushed his, and Keanu could have sworn electricity passed between them. “You know I wouldn’t miss this mom, it’s important to you.”

“I know,” Caroline smiled softly, slipping her arm into Keanu’s, “Isn’t Shane joining us?” She inquired absently as the slipped through the front door, the steps illumined by yellow, glowing porch lights.

Scoffing, Keanu barely missed the way Y/n brushed some hair out of her face as she did. “He’s…..we’re done.”

“So soon?” Keanu was the one who spoke up that time, his interest peaked. Shane had been around for longer than the others. They’d actually met him and Caroline seemed to like him well enough for her daughter.

“Mm hmm,” Y/n hummed, being the first to get into the back of the black, heavily tinted sedan so he and her mother could sit together, “He was boring.” She never came off as one interested in offering many words, and as far back as Keanu remembered, they’d only had a handful of full conversations. If it weren’t for Caroline telling him, he wouldn’t have even known that she had a job outside of lounging by the pool almost everyday; she was a fashion curator, whatever that meant.

“He’s a doctor!” Caroline defended, knitting her brows, “A doctor for Doctors Without Borders, what’s so boring about that?”

Shifting so she could look out the window, Y/n propped her chin on her hand, her elbow stationed on the door, “I don’t know,” she shrugged half heartedly, already off in her own world, “He just was.”

Keanu threw Caroline, who’d realized that Y/n wasn’t really entertained by the conversation, a sympathetic look, effectively hiding his satisfaction with how unattached her daughter was. “Alright dear,” she gnawed on her lower lip and Keanu affectionately squeezed her hand in his, “Whatever you say.”

Vacantly, Y/n stared at her half finished meal, fork held loosely between her fingers. Occasionally, when she’d raise her head to take a sip of her wine, she’d meet the sight of her mother leaning into Keanu’s embrace as they shared innocent pecks ever so often. She liked seeing her mother happy, it had been years since her father’s passing after all, and Keanu was the first person she’d let get that close, but despite it all, Y/n was still jealous. Not jealous of her happiness, but really, who she'd found happiness with; Keanu.

He was smolderingly attractive; the specs of salt in his beard, the dark locks falling perfectly over his rugged features, his broad shoulders and towering stature. Y/n could see the appeal, and she could see it well enough to want her chance at him. It was twisted, immature and he should have been off limits, but there was just something about his rich pools of whiskey that sent shivers up her spine when he laid eyes on her. And Y/n went out of her way to make sure he laid eyes on her.

It was particularly hard either; half her time back at the house was spent in a swimsuit anyway, and she’d been especially sure to wear her skimpiest pieces when she knew for sure that he'd be out on the balcony for his late night smoke. It wasn't overtly obvious, but Y/n could tell her efforts were paying off. Sometimes, depending on what she was wearing and if they were alone in a room, she could feel his eyes following her around, and then, there were some more…….unsavory things that she'd been privy to.

It had never been Y/n's intention to hurt her mother, or steal her boyfriend, but who could resist a man as magnificent. Keanu was every girl's wet dream, older, hunky and no doubt experienced, in all respects. Besides, it wasn't like she was trying to snatch him away forever, at most, she wanted to show him a good time, what her girl her age could do before he and her mom got hitched.

Speaking of the wedding.

"Y/n?" Her mother roused her attention, just as her eyes had started straying towards the ocean view offered through the window, "I’ve waiting to ask you something when we were all together, as a family," Caroline reached across the table for her daughter's hand, "I know that we haven’t been as close as we used to be before you left for college. But you're still my daughter, my little ballerina," at the words, Y/n blushed, memories of a simpler time flashing across her mind, "And I'd love it if you'd be my maid of honor."

Widening her eyes, Y/n's jaw slacked, "Mom…..I'd be honored." Mustering up a smile and doing her best to ignore Keanu. That moment wasn't about him, it was about her and her mother.

"Really?" Caroline cooed giddily, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. For a split second, a pang of guilt stabbed at her chest. Her mother was marrying Keanu. Her mother who'd sworn off dating after a horrible accident vowed her a single parent. Her mother, who'd taken her around the world as a child, along with an armory of private tutors, just so Y/n could have the best of both worlds. Her mother, and there she was, trying to seduce her fiancé. How ungrateful could she be?

Chuckling fondly, Y/n tilted her head, "Of course mom, I'd love to be your maid of honor."

"Oh! I'm so happy to hear that," Caroline sniffled, "Keanu can tell you, I've been meaning to ask since you got back. But we hadn't even started planning the wedding yet, and then I had to go to Italy and I didn't just want to spring it on you either," her smile faltered, and Y/n knew where her mother was going with that, "I know that it's been almost fifteen years, but I didn't want you to think that I'm marrying Keanu to replace your father."

The memories of him stung and Y/n had to clench her jaw as she shook her head, "I know. It's been…..a long time, since he…...doesn't matter," clearing her throat, Y/n was suddenly fighting tears, "You deserve to have love again."

"Y/n's right sweetheart," Keanu pecked the top of her mother's head, "And I'm so happy that I'm the only that gets to love you."

Even if she'd just reprimanded herself, seeing Keanu coddle her mother was still a bit annoying, and coupled with the barrage of memories shared with her late father, Y/n was starting to get the feeling that the walls were closing in on her. She needed air, fast. "Excuse me," the chair scraped the tiles noisily as she stood abruptly, discarding her napkin next to her plate on the table, "I think I'm gonna go for a walk, get some fresh air."

As she stalked off hurriedly, Y/n could hear her mother calling after her, asking if she was okay. But the last thing Y/n wanted to do was talk about it and, as she broke through the glass doors of the establishment, sea breeze blasting her face and the sound of waves crashing against the shore filling her hearts, she sighed heavily, grateful to finally be alone with her thoughts.

Replaying the past in her head, like the best parts of a movie on repeat, Y/n walked slowly along the sand dusted wooden pathway tucked against the side of the restaurant. The area was barren of all other life, and dark void of any other lighting besides what was offered by the twinkling night sky. Usually, she supposed the area was used by workers who wanted to escape the bustle without being caught, but that night, it was perfect for a young girl seeking to escape her reality.

If only for a very short while.

"Is everything okay?" A painfully familiar baritone pierced her thoughts, causing Y/n to turn around as face Keanu. His features were shrouded by the dimness, but she could identify the outline of his frame almost immediately, marveling at how much bigger he looked under the cover of the shadows.

Blinking away her tears, thankful that he could not see her glassy eyes, Y/n nodded stiffly, "Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

Shrugging, Keanu took a couple steps forward, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "You ran out of there pretty quickly," he nudged towards the restaurant, "Your mom wanted to come talk to you, but I offered to do it instead?"

"Yeah?" A sly smile broke through without her permission, and Y/n folded her arms, leaning against the sturdy guard rail, "Why?"

"I just think it's important for us to be able to have these kinds of conversations, I'm marrying your mother in a few months after all," his words seemed to shake and Y/n was beginning to wonder if concern for her was what had brought him out there. As much as people wanted to believe it, she knew that Keanu was hardly a saint.

"You're right," Y/n teased, subtly inching closer. Any trace of guilt she'd harbored was gone from the minute he'd called out to her. Maybe he should have stayed inside if he wanted to keep up the good guy persona, and maybe, just maybe, Y/n was a little too used to getting want she wanted. "Soon you're gonna be like…..my daddy," raising her brows, she snatched her lower lip between her teeth, "My step daddy," sure enough, she enunciated the word, ensuring that it dripped with seduction.

"So that's why you came out here?" Keanu scoffed, shaking his head and clearly trying to hide his smirk, "You know, you're not as innocent as your mother thinks you are."

Throwing her head back, Y/n chortled, the sound smooth like a full-bodied red, "I never claimed to be, or tired," shaking her shoulder, she was eventually looking at him again, dark, lustrous gaze unwavering, "You on the other hand…..you might have her fooled. Hell, you might have everyone fooled, except for me."

Licking his lips, Keanu hesitated before humoring her, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't act so coy," Y/n dismissed with a wave of her jewel adorned hand, "Tell me Keanu," she closed the distance between them, leaving a weak few inches between their bodies, "Do you always call my name when you fuck yourself?"

He knew exactly what she was talking about and Y/n could tell. She'd heard him that day, even when the door muffling her words, in particular, had rang through clearly; her name as he came sloppy all over his fingers. "You heard that?" He breathed hoarsely.

"And so much more," Y/n fingers lightly trailed the zipper of his leather jacket, and she gazed up at him through her thick lashes, daring him to make the next move. "Wouldn't you like to feel the real thing?" Y/n hummed, "See if I'm as tight as you're imagining."

"You're a bad girl," he mused, his warm palms ghosting her hips, as if he was scared that touching her would solidify the act. Still, he worked against conscience, "Say it again," he urged, "Call me that again."

Quelling a mischievous soiree, Y/n laid her free hand on his bicep, discarding her last shred of rationality, which screamed that she was possibly among the worst in the world, "Daddy," she purred. "How often do you think about fucking me, Daddy?"

"Too often," he growled, hastily shoving Y/n against the wall. "You walk around in those tiny outfits, like some kind of little slut. And you let frat boys fuck you with the door open. You're practically asking for it."

"And what are you gonna do about that?" Keanu had already hoisted her up, one of Y/n's legs hooking around his hip while the other laid limp. Her arms looped his neck as their proximity had allowed for her breast to be pressed against his chest as she kept a hand planted on her ass.

"I'm gonna give it to you sweetheart," he nipped at her neck, carefully avoiding any marks, "I wanna be a good Daddy."

"Fuck," a lewd moan escaped her lips, and the feeling of his hard-on pressed against her inner thigh was enough to drench her panties. Keanu merely felt deliciously big. When he nipped on her skin, dragging his teeth as he pulled away, she clutched his bulky arms, nails sinking into the soft leather of his coat. Y/n’s body arched into his as she threw her head back, and Keanu’s hands slipped beneath the hem of her dress, the fabric bunching up at her waist as he roamed her body. “I want you,” she whispered huskily, shutting her eyes and lolling her head back against the wall.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” he mumbled, pawing at her ass, kneading and squeezing the firm flesh roughly. Wasting no more time, he shoved her panties away, setting Y/n back on the ground so they could slip down her legs and fall in a sparse pool of racy navy lace at her feet. As Y/n nudged them away with the tip of her stiletto, Keanu got started on the buckle of his belt, aided by her lithe fingers.

“What if someone sees us?” She probed, finding the zipper of his jeans and then reaching inside his pants to palm his hardened cock through his boxers, grinning wickedly at its undeniable girth.

“Look around baby, no ones gonna see a damn thing,” he offered, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “We just gotta be quick.”

Hissing loudly as she squeezed, Keanu bucked into her touch, groaning languidly when she rubbed her thumb over his cotton clad head. “Then what are you waiting for Daddy? We haven’t got all night.”

“You’re right,” he snarled, hastily collecting her in his strong arms once again, shoving her against the wall, situating himself between her spread legs. Temporarily, he clumsily squeezed one hand between their heated bodies, pushing down his underwear and freeing his cock. “You ready?” Keanu’s rumbling words didn’t await permission before he jerked into Y/n’s dripping cunt, her response reduced to hitched cry. Immediately, she could feel his veins bulging against her sensitive walls, and the slight curve of his shaft reached so deep she could have sworn she felt him in her stomach. “You cunt’s so tight babygirl, perfect for Daddy’s cock.”

The feeling of Keanu nestled in her drenched sex, his pace steady and guiding, while still bordering intense rabidity, had Y/n gasping for breath, not caring if the salty air would assault her senses. His cock expended her, almost to the point of creating the most pleasurable burn, and his bruising grip on her waist, the only thing supporting her, was like electricity. Desperate to touch him, Y/n clawed at his t-shirt, barely aware that ripping it would be an unexplainable disaster. Though, her patience quickly wore thin and she resorted to sliding her hands down the neck of his t-shirt, reaching for his back.

Keanu’s tongue, dancing around hers, tasted of the beer he’d been having with dinner, and that, coupled with the lingering Merlot on her tongue was astoundingly intoxicating. The act, the danger of being caught, its depraved immorality, was so sweet that it was drunkening. The feel of Keanu drilling into her, leading her to the threshold of sweet release was far above anything she’d ever felt. The top of his jeans, lowered only enough to allow their sin, chafed the underside of Y/n’s thighs, the friction only adding to the unmatched sensation.

“Oh fuck!” She rasped, sinking her nails into his shoulders, the words swallowed eagerly by Keanu as he rolled his hips aggressively, knowing that they didn’t have much time.

“No marks,” he managed, pulling away and pressing her nose to Y/n’s. Shrugging hastily, Keanu tried to nudge her hands off, “She can’t know.” Barely registering his words, Y/n still loosened her grip, sliding one of her hands up to disturb the neatness of his hair. Around his hips, her legs tightened, consequently restricting his pace even as she breathlessly mumbled broken pleas for him to go faster.

As Y/n’s nails scratched his scalp, one of Keanu’s rough palms deserted her hip, roaming her side, yanking down one of the thin, delicate straps of her silky dress down her arm, freeing one of her breasts so he could grope it eagerly, between moments spent rolling her pebbled nipple between his thumb and pointer. Struggling to buck her hips to meet his, Y/n could quickly feel the last threads holding her coherence together getting ready to snap. “I’m gonna…..” Y/n threw her head back, cool night air combating the heat seeping to the surface of her skin. An indecorous cry parted her lips, and she barely got the words out, “I’m close.”

“The come for me,” Keanu gritted, baring his teeth as he buried his face in the crook of Y/n’s neck, “Come all over Daddy’s cock, baby.”

Under the witness of the navy cloak, speckled with twinkling specs of white, and to the melody of foamy water sloshing beneath their shaky feet, the broil in Y/n’s stomach overflowed explosively. Stars, much like the ones teasing them from above, danced on her blurred vision as a rush of slick moisture coated their thighs, bathing Keanu’s swollen member. As she clenched around him, her legs losing sensation, Y/n felt him slow down, his thrusts rigid as Keanu revealed in the feeling.

A vulgar grunt joined their sounds, ending with a series of hitched breaths as Keanu shot generous, hot bursts of his product inside her, coating her slick walls as excess dripped between them. Sloppily and without rhythm, he rode out both their highs, his movements only slowing down almost completely as they came down.

Stumbling back as he pulled out, Keanu braved himself on the banister, catching his breath. Y/n, still disheveled, slouched against the wall, eyeing Keanu intensely as her chest heaved with deep, heavy breaths. The lingering exhilaration roused the tried smile from her and leaning her head back, Y/n let her eyes slip closed.

"We need to head back inside," Keanu declared, putting himself back together. "Tell you what," he beamed wickedly, bending near Y/n's feet to collect her discarded panties off the floor, "I'll keep these," he crumpled her thong, shoving it into his back pocket, "And you can keep this," without warning, he tossed her the same handkerchief he'd used to hurriedly wipe away the evidence from his thighs.

Before Y/n could even sum up a witty response, still in the process of rearranging her dress, Keanu was adjusting his jacket and running corrective fingers through his full, dark mane. "Don't take too long, alright?" He set off for the side entrance, "See you inside Kid."

As he neared their table, nearer to the cost booths and situated perfectly under the intimate lighting, Keanu watched as Caroline lifted her head, a worried, yet hopeful smile etched across her lovely features. He loved her. "Sweetheart," he bent, pecking her cheek quickly before settling in the chair next to her. As he did, a wave of guilt, incomparable to anything he'd ever felt before then, washed over him. He'd betrayed her, the woman he was going to marry, with no other but her own child.

"Is everything okay?" She probed gently and when Caroline looked at him, with those familiar eyes so full of love, Keanu felt like he was bare naked and blasted with frigid air.

"Yeah," he gestured elaborately with hands, trying to suppress his muddled feelings, "Yeah, why?"

"Well my daughter left in the middle of dinner and practically ran out of the restaurant and you told me you were gonna talk to her. So I'm just wondering how it went," Keanu knew it wasn't her intention, Caroline trusted him, even if he didn't deserve her trust, but every question was suddenly an interrogation, a witch hunt for the truth.

Sucking in a breath, the feel of her against him, her part breasts to his chest, the warmth between her silken legs, the taste of her skin, it all came back to him in a rush, as if he were still out there with Y/n, losing himself in the pleasure. It had been a while since he'd been with a woman that age, and with the experience he'd had then, the thrill was exalting. He wanted it- her again. But he shouldn't have had her at all. "It was good," he cleared his throat reaching for his beer in hopes of swallowing the lump in his throat. "We had a nice-"

Before he could finish, Y/n was approaching the table with a cool confidence that suggested that nothing out of turn had transpired between them. When she sat though, even if Caroline was completely oblivious, a heavy tension befell their table. "I'm back," she declared with a soft giggle, hiding one of her hands, presumably the one with his kerchief, under the table.

"You are, Keanu was just telling me that you two talked things through. And sweetie, I just want to apologize, I shouldn’t have brought him up, I know you don’t like to talk about your father,” reaching across the table, Caroline took her hand and Keanu noted how Y/n stiffened, actively avoiding him.

“I should be the one apologizing mom,” Y/n inhaled audibly, her feigned smile faltering, Y/n turned her hand over so she’d have a loose hold on her mother’s manicured fingers, “I’m sorry, about just leaving like that earlier,” for the first time since she sat down, Y/n glanced at Keanu, and he found guilt reflected in her eyes, with something else lingering beneath, desire perhaps. He held her gaze, for a little longer than he was supposed to, and Y/n was eventually the one to turn away, guarding herself as she fixed her attention on her mother once again, “I’m sorry mom.”

*****

Tagging- @crybbyren @cynic-spirit @imagine-the-fanfics

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x y/n #keau reeves fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #stepdaddy #au

160 notes · View notes

billnoncipher · 3 years

Text

Losing Time

This story is not in my usual continuity, but was written for Wendip Week 2021, topic "Time Travel."

for Wendip Week 2021

---

Mabel faced a hard decision when she called in that favor.

She was nearly thirty, she was a successful clothing designer, she had a steady romantic partner, life was good. But then on a visit to Gravity Falls, she visited the grave of good old Waddles, whose heart had given out the previous winter, while she was off in New York.

And she hadn't been able to say goodbye.

And despite the fact that she was all grown up and everything, it ripped at her heart—that she hadn't said farewell to her most favorite pet of all time. It wasn't that he hadn't been well cared for—Soos saw to that, giving the pig all the comforts and plenty of food. It wasn't that he was cut off in his youth—seventeen is a good long life for a pig. It's just that—

Well, now she knew how Dipper felt.

Speaking of whom.

Dipper and Wendy were coming up on their tenth wedding anniversary, they had adorable twins, age six, names Alexander and Amanda, and they lived in the Mystery Shack. Grunkles Stan and Ford still technically owned the place, and Soos ran it, but over the years he and Melody had expanded it until their own growing family caused Soos to have a separate house built just across the road, and he and his family of six—he, Melody, Benny, Betty, Alma, and little Stanley—had made the short move. Dipper had inherited Grunkle Ford's role as investigator of the weird, Wendy was a nationally-known consultant on forestry issues, and they took over the living space that Soos had left vacant.

Ford, now semi-retired, still came over to work with Dipper down in the secret labs when some project was afoot. Grunkle Stan came over to help when the Shack was swamped with tourists in vacation season, but he spent a lot of his time visiting casinos all over the world, where his odd luck always brought him a steady income.

The attic bedroom had become disused.

"Can I stay?" Mabel asked in a small voice just at sunup that day. "Just for a couple weeks?"

"Sure, Mabes!" Wendy said. "Any time, you know that."

Dipper, now sporting a goatee and wearing glasses to correct mild myopia, said, "Sis, what's wrong?"

With a sad smile, Mabel said, "You can tell, huh? Just getting all sentimental. Missing Waddles."

"Oh," Dipper said. "That. We're sorry you couldn't make it back in January."

"It was so unexpected," Wendy said. "He was OK, you know, kinda slow and sleepy all the time, and then one morning we found him in his stall. He'd passed in his sleep."

"He was comfortable to the end," Dipper said. "The heat was on. He didn't freeze or anything. He looked peaceful."

"We buried him down the hill," Wendy told her. "Come on, we'll walk you down."

The place was pretty, a small clearing off to the right of the Mystery Trail. Grass had greened the mound, dewy now with the dawn, and—Mabel couldn't help sobbing—Dipper and Wendy had put up a marker, one of those you could buy for a cherished dog or cat. It read,

---

WADDLES

2012-2029

Always Loved

---

"Could you just leave me here for a few minutes?" asked Mabel.

Dipper hugged her. "Sure, Sis," he said. "Take y our time."

Wendy hugged her, too. "You gave him a good life," she said.

When the two had left, Mabel took a deep breath and took something that looked like a thick button from her jeans pocket. She held it between finger and thumb, close to her lips, and said, "OK, Blendin Blandin, you owe me one."

And without fuss, explosions, or special-effects noise, he was there, beside her, in his old uniform. "M-Ma-Mabel," he said, smiling. "Hi. It's be-been a wh-while."

"Yeah," she said. "You're looking—exactly the same. How's Time Baby?"

"Te-te-teething," Blendin said with a grimace. "The ne-next thou-thousand years are go-gonna be hard. I gu-guess you want your fa-favor now?"

"I do," she said. "Waddles passed away last January. I don't want to bring him back to life or anything. I've learned better than that. But I didn't get to see him before he went, and I really want to visit him one last time. So—could I borrow a time tape?"

"I pro-promised," he said. "I always carry a sp-spare these da-days. Here."

"And I also need your advice," Mabel said, accepting the heavy time-travel device. "I want to visit Waddles on the happiest day of his whole life."

"You-you'll have to a-avoid meeting yourself," Blendin warned. "That would be cat-cata-catas—bad."

"Agreed," she said.

"Let me find out how to se-set the co-coordinates, then," he said. "Just a se-second."

He blinked out of existence for just three seconds, then reappeared, slapping at his hair, which was smoldering. "Th-that was two we-weeks of hard wo-work!" he said. "Lucky this-this is m-my va-vacation month. OK, I've reviewed Wa-Waddles' s li-life and this will ta-take you to the ex-exact day when he was happiest. You can ha-have the wh-whole day, or eight hours any-anyway, bu-but remember to a-avoid me-meeting yourself."

"Will do."

Blendin set the time tape, warned, "It will br-bring you ba-back to the present automatically. Ha-have a g-good time-tr-trip."

The strange noiseless explosion, a moment of spinning disorientation, and poof! there she was, at the edge of the woods behind the Shack. The sun was just rising.

"Out you go," she heard a girl's voice say from the back door.

She saw a rectangle of yellow light. Oh, my God, that's me, in my old sleep shirt! I'm twelve! I'm so young!

Her younger self held the door for Waddles—He's so cute and tiny!—and the pig stepped out, sniffed the air, and waddled over close to the woods to take care of his morning business.

Let's see. I always let him out, then had breakfast, then called him back in, so I have about half an hour before I have to duck out of sight.

"Waddles," she called softly.

He heard and galumphed over to her. He knew her. Her different size, her different voice, didn't matter. She scooped him up. "Oh, I love you!" she said as he curled into a ball and nuzzled her cheek. "Let's go for a walk."

She set him down, and they went down the Mystery Trail, past the Bottomless Pit—not yet fenced off—and as far as the bonfire clearing, where she sat on a log and played with him, laughing through tears. "I'm gonna have to say goodbye, later," she whispered. "But remember, no matter what, I'll always love you!"

Too soon she heard her own younger voice calling, probably for the second time and more loudly, "Waddles!"

"Go on," she told the pig, patting his bottom. He trotted back to the other Mabel, his Mabel.

What day is this? Mabel wondered. What day made him happiest?

She sat too long. Someone spoke, startling her. "Whoops, sorry, didn't know anybody was here!"

Wendy.

Mabel stood up. "I was just, uh—I used to come here when I was a girl—" she began.

"Mabel?" Wendy asked, blinking and staring. "Mabel? Is that you?"

"Haven't changed all that much, have I?" she asked. "Oh, my God, you're so young! Can—can I hug you?"

She was a little bit taller than the fifteen-year-old Wendy, who would add a few inches to her height in the next two years. Mabel couldn't help crying again. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to let anyone see me. Time travel. I came back to—to visit Waddles."

"Oh, man," Wendy said. "Dipper's told me about this kind of stuff! Come on back to the Shack and surprise him!"

"No, I can't," Mabel said. "Don't even tell him you met me. That would cause problems with time."

"Oh."

Something in Wendy's voice hit her then. "Uh—what's wrong, Wendy?"

"Just—just the end of summer," Wendy faltered. "I—I hate that you and Dip are goin' home today."

Oh, my God! Of course! Waddles thought I was gonna leave him, and I nearly had to, but Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford made the bus driver take him aboard—of course he was happiest on that day!

"Oh, yeah," Mabel said. "Our birthday was yesterday. We turned thirteen."

"Technical teens," Wendy said with a ghost of a grin. A tear ran down her cheek.

"But you don't have to cry," Mabel said.

"I—I guess I can tell you a secret," Wendy said. She sat on the log, and Mabel sat beside her. "See, Dipper admitted to me a while back that he has a crush on me. I already knew, but I had to let him down. You know, me fifteen, him twelve. But now he's going away, and I'll never see him again, and—I just can't tell him I'm kinda-sorta in love with him, too. It's hard, Mabel."

Mabel bit her lip. "Listen," she said. "I may get in big trouble because of this, but—OK, I'm gonna say it. You gotta give Dipper a note. Have all his friends here sign it. You sign it, too. Here's the most important part—write on it 'See you next summer.' And wait for him. He'll come back. And he'll grow up, Wendy. And if you wait for him—it's gonna happen. I promise. Just stay in touch, and—most important—when the time comes, the age difference won't mean a thing."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Trust me, I know. OK, I've got a few hours today. I'm gonna stay close to the Shack and get in as much time with Waddles as I can. Then I'm going back to the future, and thirteen-year-old Mabel and Dipper are going back to Piedmont. But he doesn't just have a crush, Wendy. He really and truly loves you. So write the note, give it to him before he gets on the bus, and things will all work out. Promise me?"

"Yeah. I promise."

"Oh—and tell Grunkle Stan that when the time comes for us to leave, to make sure Waddles gets on the bus, too! I—Oh, I love you like a sister, Wendy! You won't believe how happy you're gonna be with Dip."

"That—that means a lot to me, Mabes," Wendy whispered.

"OK, you'd better get back. Don't say anything to anyone about this. Be sure to do the note thing. Oh, and Wendy—do me one more favor?"

"Sure, what?"

"Tell Pacifica that Mabel's waiting—in the future. Don't explain."

"All right," Wendy said with a lopsided smile. "I'll do it." She mimed zipping her lip.

The day passed. Out of her eight hours, Mabel spent about three in Waddles's company as her brother and her younger self got ready to leave Gravity Falls. She spent more time standing out of sight, watching things unfold—finally the kids coming out, glum, with their suitcases, the bus pulling up, Dipper and Mabel and—finally—Waddles climbing aboard. And all their friends running as far as they could to see the twins and the pig off.

She stood alone near the Shack. The flash came. Benjamin stood there. "How d-did it go?"

"It went good," Mabel said, handing over the time tape. "I said goodbye." She sniffled and a tear ran down her cheek. "I'll still miss him but I—I can handle it now. Uh, how much time has gone by while I—?"

"A m-minute," Blendin said. "Well, I-I g-guess we're e-even."

"Thanks, Blendin. Goodbye."

"N-no, I d-don't think it's g-goodbye," he said, smiling. "I'll s-see you again. In time."

He flashed out of existence.

"Aunt Mabel!" It was red-headed Amanda, running down the hill to meet her. "Hi!"

Mabel swept her up in her arms. "Hi, Sweetie! Where's your bro-bro?"

Squirming, Amanda laughed. "He can't find his shoes!"

Carrying the six-year old up the hill to the Shack, Mabel laughed. "When your dad was six, he had the same problem! All the time! Every morning!" She paused and looked back at the green grave. "Hey, let me tell you a story about the most special pig in the whole world," she said, and they went back to join the family.

---

The End

#Wendip #Wendip Week #fereality #gravity falls

37 notes · View notes

winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

still a chance.

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

a/n: the yearning in this one…i’ve outdone myself. okay so this one has been rolling around in my head for a long time. you’ll all be able to tell, but i love photos as a vehicle for storytelling. we use a lot of pictures in this story, and i hope you can “see” them - they brought me a lot of joy when i visualized them, and i hope i was able to do them justice. i also decided beth moves to okinawa instead of hong kong bc the museums in okinawa can’t be beat. thanks to kira (@good-heavens-chris-evans) for encouraging me to post this tonight - you are a treasure and a gift. words: 4,181 warnings: language, longing.

AO3 | Masterlist | Requests Closed

+++

You kissed Jack’s temple and threw your backpack over your shoulder, leaning into the backseat. You carded through the honey-blond hair on the side of his head, reveling in the softness of it. “I love you, bud.”

He sniffled, and it took all you had to keep it together. “I love you, too.” You could hear the effort in his voice. He was trying to be strong for you, for his dad.

You kissed his forehead, lingering for a moment. You pulled back, your hands fluttering over his little shoulders, fussing for no reason. “You be good okay? You gotta be good for dad, alright?” You leaned in close. “He needs all the help he can get, and you’re his best teammate. You gonna take good care of him?”

He nodded.

“Atta boy.” You straightened, slipping your arm into the other strap of your backpack. You faced Hotch, who pulled your collar from under the straps and fussed with them for a moment. He was stalling.

“Aaron, I -”

He shook his head with a small smile. “I know. Call when you can. Your godson will miss you if you don’t.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’ll call you when I land.”

“Seattle is great. You’ll love it.” He sounded like he was convincing himself as much as you.

You threw yourself into his arms, and he wrapped around you as best he could with your backpack. “I love you, Aaron. Take care of yourself.” You pulled back and rested your hands on his shoulders. “Try to get me back home, while you’re at it.”

“I’ll do my best. Fly safe.”

And with that, you grabbed your duffle and walked into the terminal. You looked back once, finding two pairs of identical brown eyes watching you from open windows. You blew them a kiss, and they both raised a hand to catch it.

My boys.

+++

Emily warned you about Beth before you landed back in Virginia, but you were still nervous. Returning from a long assignment was never easy, especially when you knew coming back meant the real loss of something that never was.

You and Aaron had danced around each other for years, but never did anything about it, claiming team dynamic and stability for Jack after Haley’s death. Even then, neither one of you could deny how miserable it was to be apart. Your assignment to Seattle ended up lasting close to two years. You tried to keep in touch, but it was often too painful to be so out of reach. Your calls got farther and farther apart, but you tried to check in when you could.

Even then, you sent Jack semi-frequent gifts and care packages full of his favorite things. That boy was your favorite person in the whole world, and you his, second only to his father. It had broken your heart to leave him.

It would be a relief to see him again.

You stepped into Dave’s familiar foyer, toeing off your shoes. Everyone was in the backyard, relaxing after another homemade dinner. The whole team knew you were coming – except Beth and the Hotchners. Emily, JJ, and Dave spent an exorbitant amount of time and energy carrying off your surprise arrival.

When you stepped out into the backyard, three pairs of eyes flickered up at you before returning to their conversations. Emily, Penelope, and Derek hid the smiles that ghosted across their faces to avoid suspicion. Hotch and Jack had their backs to you, by design. Jack was watching one of Spencer’s magic tricks, Hotch was off a little ways with Emily, and Beth was at the bar with Dave.

Now was your chance. Approaching quickly and quietly, you put your hands over Jack's eyes and leaned in close to his ear. “Guess who, Jack Hotchner!”

He froze, and his little hands covered yours out of instinct.

Wordlessly, he whirled around and threw himself into your arms. You landed hard on the ground, suddenly in tears. Jack was crying into your shoulder, his hands scrabbling for purchase on your jacket. You held him as tight as you could, the wave of emotion overwhelming you. You mumbled nothings into Jack’s baby blue button down - how much you loved him, how much you’d missed him, how happy you were to see him. You were sure none of it made sense.

“Are you staying?” Jack asked.

It broke your heart. “Yeah, love. I’m staying. I’m here.”

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, weeping together. It reminded you of those videos where parents or siblings come home from war and their kids just lose it. You never expected to be on the other side of that, but here you were.

A hand on your shoulder jarred you from your haze. You looked up to find Aaron’s familiar brown eyes. You kissed the side of Jack’s head and stood. He stayed glued to your leg, and you picked him up, letting him hang off your hip as you straightened.

Aaron gathered you into his arms, and you wrapped your free arm around his shoulders.

“Good surprise?” You asked.

He only held you tighter.

You pulled back and swiped at the tears on your cheeks. “Whew. Alright.” You looked down at Jack, whose eyes were cleared of shock and tears, smiling up at you. “What did I miss?”

Aaron shot you a smile and gestured behind him. “Beth, this is Y/N. Y/N, Beth.”

You shook her hand with a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Beth. I’m glad these boys are in good hands.”

+++

Emily offered to drive you home. You were quiet, staring out the window much of the way. Your apartment was still mostly packed, but your bed was ready for you.

“Good to be home?” She asked.

You nodded.

“There’s still a chance, you know.”

Finally looking over at her, a sigh escaped you. “He loves her, Em.”

She snorted. “He loves you more.”

You shook your head.

+++

“Y/N seems so lovely,” Beth said, settling next to Aaron on the couch.

He hummed in assent, distracted in the extreme.

“Jack was so happy to see her. It really was thoughtful of Emily to put that together for you both.” She kept her voice light, but couldn’t help but search his face for something, anything. She’d heard he closed off sometimes, but she’d never seen it first hand.

He nodded, still silent. “It’s been a long time.”

Beth pushed down the pang of something achy in her chest and took a sip of her tea. “Ready for bed?”

Aaron nodded, and shot her a small smile. There was so much going on behind those brown eyes. He was quiet. Quiet and distracted.

Your absence was suddenly the loudest thing in the room.

And Beth knew it.

+++

Your room was so quiet. It had been quiet in Seattle, too. There, though, nobody you loved was close enough to touch. A fifteen minute drive would take you to your favorite house with your favorite view and your favorite boys. But they didn’t belong to you anymore.

Jack wasn’t yours.

Aaron wasn’t yours.

Beth had them now. Sweet, sweet Beth. She was so open and kind. The immediate liking you took to her was almost infuriating. You didn’t want to like her, and yet there was nothing to dislike about her.

You were gone. You came back. She was there.

Now what?

You rolled over and checked your phone, finding a text from JJ.

I’m so proud of you I’m so glad you’re home. If you need anything, I’m here.

Then, some minutes later.

If he doesn’t pull his head out of his ass you know who to call.

You smiled, and replied. Derek?

Fair point. Go to bed!!

+++

Your first case back felt like slipping into a comfy old pair of shoes. Building and delivering the profile was as easy as breathing, the feeling of your weapon in your hand as you cleared room after room, the tight fit of your vest across your chest – everything was something you missed. You yearned for the physical feeling of the BAU while you were chained to a desk in Seattle, and it was a relief to have it back.

You and Aaron were back in-step with each other right away. It was almost like you’d never left.

Almost.

When a few tears slipped down your cheeks as the jet cruised through the air, headed back to Quantico, Derek reached for your hand. The rush from the past week caught up with you all at once and wrapped around your throat.

“We missed you,” he said.

You smiled at him. “I missed you, too.”

He watched you for a moment, squinting a little. After a moment, he looked over at Hotch, who was frowning down at his phone. You brushed the tears off your face and squeezed Derek’s hand once - a reassurance.

He knew, just like you did. Just like Beth did.

+++

It was the next time you all were over at Dave’s that Beth finally asked.

“What’s the story there?”

JJ looked over at you as you reclined in one of the rocking chairs on Dave’s back porch, Jack in your lap. He was regaling you with another tale from school - one of the many you missed while you were away. Hotch sat nearby on the step, his elbows on his knees, listening to his son with upturned lips. Occasionally, you and Aaron shared a look over Jack’s head, knowing and steeped in time.

“Oh, Hotch and L/N?” JJ said, following Beth’s gaze.

Beth nodded, taking a thoughtful sip of her drink.

“They’re close,” JJ started, choosing her words carefully. “Y/N was close to the family - close to Haley and Aaron before Jack was born. She’s Jack’s godmother, along with Haley’s sister Jessica. When Haley died...” She shook her head. “He’d never been in worse shape, but she kept him upright. Nothing’s ever happened between them, not like that anyway, but nobody on this team has ever managed to come close to what those two have.”

Beth hummed thoughtfully. “How did Jack take the news of the Seattle assignment?”

JJ laughed a little, but it wasn’t really funny. “Not well. He was moody and irritable for months, like his dad. Both of them eventually got used to it - being on their own again.”

“It’s lovely to have such good friends, isn’t it?”

“Our team is a family. We take care of each other.”

+++

A rare day off found almost the entire team headed to the lake for the afternoon. You drove, with Derek riding shotgun beside you. Beth and Aaron sandwiched Jack and his car seat in the back. As always, you made sure Jack was visible in your rearview mirror as you drove.

JJ drove the other car, with Will, Henry, Dave, and Emily.

Derek ran the aux cord, of course - he had the best and most varied music taste of the whole bunch. You belted along to whatever he played, dancing in your seat and laughing the whole time.

God, it is good to be home.

“Are they always like this?” Beth asked quietly, over Jack’s head. She gestured to you and Derek, holding imaginary microphones to each other’s mouths and growing quickly out of pocket, much to Jack’s delight.

Aaron nodded, making play at a long-suffering kind of exhaustion, but he couldn’t hide the fondness in his gaze as he looked at you. You met his eyes in the rearview mirror and grinned before turning your attention back to the road.

“Y/N enables bad behavior,” he said, loud enough for you to hear, dropping back into his usual deadpan.

You swung your arm back and swatted at him.

+++

“What was she like?” Beth settled beside you, a glass of wine in her hand. It was movie night at the Hotchners, and you’d wandered down the hall to stretch your legs and grab some water.

You got caught up at the wall of framed photos, stuck on one particularly lovely one of Haley - grainy and candid. Aaron’s handwriting in the top corner informed you it was from January 1993, Bainbridge Island, WA.

You smiled. “Charming, funny.” You huffed a laugh. “Damn near the most impatient woman I’ve ever known. She jumped the gun on everything, for better or worse. She knew how to throw a hell of a dinner party and gave the best Christmas gifts. She was the best mom. Jack was her world.” You reached up, touching the frame lightly with the pads of your fingers. “I was mad at her, during the divorce. We never fought, but I was upset with her and she knew it.” You laughed down your nose. “It was the only time she was more patient than I deserved.”

Maybe you were revealing too much, but you continued.

“I sometimes wish I could take it back - my anger. I wish I wasn’t half as mad at her as I was when she died.” You shifted your gaze, settling on a photo of you and Haley in the hospital a few hours after Jack was born. Haley looked exhausted, but happy, her hand reaching up to Jack’s little face as you held him with a fond smile. To this day, you have no idea how Aaron managed to get that picture. You tapped the frame with your finger, your tone brightening. “That was a really good day.”

Just like before, Aaron’s handwriting in the corner gave away the date and occasion. October 7th, 2005. Haley and Y/N with Jack, 5 hours old.

“I can imagine,” Beth said with a light laugh. Her voice was pensive, thoughtful. “These boys are lucky to have you.”

The corner of your mouth tipped up, and you offered her your arm as you turned back toward the living room.

You liked her. You did. That’s what made it so damn hard.

+++

“Aaron, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Aaron turned around, pulled from his work with the dishes, to face Beth. “Yeah. What’s going on?”

Beth sat at her kitchen island, the pads of her fingers tapping restlessly on the marble counter. Her eyes were downcast, avoiding him. “I got a job offer in Okinawa.”

His eyebrows raised. “Oh?”

“I think I’m going to take it.” She looked up at him, her lower lip disappearing between her teeth. “What do you think?”

Aaron circled the island and sat beside her, reaching for her hand. She laced her fingers with his. He leaned forward, attentive. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

She smiled with one side of her mouth. “I don’t think I will.” She looked down at their laced hands. “In the spirit of not regretting anything, I have something else to tell you.”

Aaron was quiet. Waiting. Listening.

“I think you should tell Y/N how you feel.”

He startled, sitting up straight. “What?”

Beth smiled a little wider, a gentle, soft thing. It made his heart ache and his head hurt. “She has your heart, Aaron. There’s nobody who knows you better. Nobody better for you.” She squeezed his hand. “You have a second chance. I think you should take it.”

“Beth, I -”

“Aaron. Please. I’m leaving anyway, and you and I both know we won’t be able to swing the distance.”

He sighed.

She’s right.

“I’m sorry.”

She smiled, and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Don’t be. It’s hard to see the things in front of us, sometimes. Especially when they’ve been there for a long time.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up.

“Now’s your chance, Hotchner. Don’t screw it up.” She shoved playfully at his shoulder, drawing a wider smile from him.

The smile fell from his face as he looked around at the decidedly unpacked house. “When do you leave for Okinawa?”

She took a sip of her tea. “Next week. The movers are coming this weekend to pack up the house.”

He laughed to himself. She’d already made up her mind, but was sweet enough to make him feel included. He leaned over and kissed her, sweet and chaste. A goodbye. “I love you, Beth.”

She looked back up at him with a soft smile. “I love you, too.” Then, her face transformed, a mischievous smile on her face. “Need a ride?”

+++

You were laid out flat on the couch watching a movie when there was a knock at your door. With a sigh, you rose and popped the lid on your gun safe with your fingerprint before you unlocked the door.

I really need a peep hole.

Aaron Hotchner was on the other side, sheepish, with his hands in his pockets. You looked behind him, Beth’s little Civic idling in front of your building. She waved at you before driving off into the night.

“Hey,” he said. “Can I come in?”

You stepped back and locked your firearm away as he stepped past you into the house. When you turned to face him, he was studying the photographs on your bookshelf. Some were photos from your childhood, faded and well-loved. Others were more recent, and you knew he would see his face staring back at him in many of the frames. He paused at the shelf that held your favorites, always within your sight and reach.

One was a photo Dave took about two and a half years ago, before you left for Seattle. You all had your backs to the camera, with Aaron holding one of Jack’s hands and you the other. Your head was thrown back in laughter as you helped Jack leap high into the air between you.

Another was you and Haley, nearly a decade ago. You were cheek-to-cheek, her arms wrapped around you from behind, with both of your hands holding onto her forearm. Your smiles were wide, posed but genuine. A dry, crinkly rose petal from her funeral was tucked into the frame.

There was a collage of jet photos - Emily sleeping nearly-upside-down in one of the seats, Dave and Aaron pouring over a case file, Spencer, JJ, and Elle sleeping in a heap, Emily’s nail-bitten fingers resting on her copy of Slaughterhouse Five, JJ looking out the window during golden hour, the team crowded around the latest photos of Henry on JJ’s phone. They were all photos you’d taken on a whim and printed when the homesickness grew unwieldy. A few post-it notes you found while packing your stuff landed in there too.

Derek, Penelope, Aaron, and Spencer smiled out of the final photo. It was the FBI vs. ATF baseball game the year Jack was born. JJ had taken it, all of you in your FBI pinstripe jerseys, capturing the moment right after the game-winning pitch was thrown. Derek was the only one who played, but the rest of you rushed the field to claim victory nevertheless. Spencer held the baseball in the air, mid-shout, while you were up on Aaron’s back with a victorious fist raised. Penelope’s feet were off the ground as Derek spun her in a circle and Haley was visible on the other side of the fence, holding a blanket-wrapped Jack to her chest and cheering.

Those photos were the ones that came to the office with you when you moved to Seattle. More than one person asked if Jack was your son, and you always said no, but with a little smile that prompted more questions.

“Do you have copies of these?” Aaron asked, his fingers tracing the photo of you and Haley. He was careful not to disturb the delicate petal.

You stepped up beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Yeah. I have framed copies, if you want them. They’re still packed.”

You stood in silence together for a little while, letting the nostalgia for the people and places and times past wash over you.

“So…” you started, “are you going to tell me why Beth dropped you like a lost puppy on my doorstep on a perfectly respectable Saturday night?”

He sighed.

Uh oh.

You took his arm and guided him to the couch, shoving wrappers out off the cushions (it was your day off, alright?) and plopping down in the corner.

Aaron licked his lips, and you couldn’t help but look down at them.

What I wouldn’t give…

“Beth is moving to Okinawa.”

Your brow crumpled, and you immediately reached out, grabbing onto his forearm. “Oh, Aaron I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s for the best. I told her I didn’t want her to have any regrets, and it’s an incredible opportunity.”

“Of course.” You shuffled closer to him, hoping your presence could be of some comfort.

He opened his mouth and closed it again, as if he was fighting with himself.

“Spit it out, Hotchner.”

That drew a short laugh from him, and he ran a hand through his hair. All the air left his lungs in one huff. “You know how much I love you, right?”

You nodded, watching carefully as he flipped his hands palm-up before you. You gingerly slipped your fingers over his hands, feeling the callouses from years of handling pens and firearms. He closed his fingers around yours, his hands warm and familiar.

“You know how much Jack loves you, right?”

You nodded. There was a point to this, you could feel it.

“Beth said something to me tonight, and it...took me by surprise.” He swallowed, staring down at your linked hands. “She said I should tell you how I feel.”

You squinted at him, more than a little confused. “Aaron, you tell me how you feel all the time. I know you’re not one to express your feelings with words, but you tell me how you feel every time you bring an extra cup of coffee for me, or save my favorite seat on the jet, or text me a picture of Jack.” You laugh through your nose. “You may not say it in so many words, but I know.”

You could tell he wanted to interrupt you, but you were proud of him when he didn’t. “Yes - yeah. That’s not what I meant.”

He was growing frustrated with himself, and you squeezed his hands. “Hey. It’s just me.”

“That’s the prevailing issue,” he said.

What?

“Aaron, you lost me.”

He steeled himself, taking a deep breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, and you knew if both of his hands weren’t occupied, one of them would have been pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m in love with you. I’m -” he opened his eyes and faltered, exhaling, “so in love with you.”

You let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. You tried to speak, but you were thwarted by your own closed throat. The incandescent joy lit you up from the inside. You were hot and cold all at once and you weren’t sure if you were breathing.

I’m so in love with you I’m so in love you with you I’m so -

Aaron stood abruptly, releasing your hands and grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

You swallowed, trying to get your bearings. “Aaron, wait. Stop.”

He turned, and you could see the raw hurt in his eyes.

Oh. Oh my God he thinks I’m upset.

Instead of ruining everything by opening your mouth again, you stood and strode toward him, grabbing his face and pulling him to you. Your lips crashed together, and you let out another completely-overwhelmed-wires-crossed noise. The tears fell down your face with abandon, but you ignored them, completely wrapped up in the feeling of his lips against yours.

You felt him freeze before he kissed you right back, his arms winding around your waist, holding you close. His hands ran up and down your back as you fought to get closer and closer to him.

He pulled back first, chasing his breath. He pressed his forehead to yours, and you dropped your hands to his collar, winding your fingers in his shirt.

“Aaron…”

He surprised you by letting out a bark of breathless laughter. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You pulled back, playfully lowering your brows. “How long?”

He looked up and made a great show of thinking. “Oh...I would say conservatively 2002, but that might just be when I noticed.”

Your head fell gently to the left. You studied his face for a moment - his straight nose, high cheekbones, the bags under his eyes that seemed to get deeper every day, the stern mouth…You knew his face better than yours. It was the face that haunted your dreams.

“What?” He asked.

You replied, simply, “I missed you.”

He kissed you, holding your face between his large hands like it was the most precious thing in the world. “I missed you.” He kissed each one of your cheeks. “I missed you.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I missed you.” The corner of your mouth. “I missed you.” Your lips. “I love you.”

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @octothorpetopus @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @vintagecaptainspidey

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction

755 notes · View notes

anhed-nia · 4 years

Text

BLOGTOBER 10/16/2020 pt 2: HOUSE OF WAX (2005)

I like this movie even more than I originally thought I did, although we shall see if I can justify this strange affection. When I first saw 2005's nominal remake of the 1953 HOUSE OF WAX, I experienced something that I object to in concept: guilty pleasure. I did not want to find myself seduced by one of these teen-targeting modern updates of canonical chillers of 50s and 60s, like THE HAUNTING and HOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL in 1999 and 13 GHOSTS in 2001. Indeed, the 2005 HOW is most commonly thought of as "the one with Paris Hilton?"--a thought that is hard to avoid, what with the movie’s mindless running gag about her then-recent sex tape. But, to my surprise, the very natural-acting It Girl of the 00s is not the worst thing about the movie, and moreover, there's a lot to like about the whole production.

Directed by Jaume Collet-Serra, now slated to direct DCU's forthcoming Black Adam movie (though I like him for ORPHAN), and written by former Doublemint twins (yes, really--and this fact will really become relevant) Chad and Carey Hayes, this HOUSE OF WAX is gory, loud, convoluted, and actually very likeable. A caravan of horny kids take a deadly detour down a bayou backroad that strands them in a seemingly abandoned town made up of eerie art deco buildings. Among them is the House of Wax, a wax museum in which literally every single thing is cast in wax--and so are all of its neighbors. Our heroes are trapped in this scenario with sinister mechanic Bo and disfigured maniac Vincent (*eye roll emoji*), whose means and motivation for turning an entire town into wax dummies are unclear, but you have to admit that they did a great job.

Unsurprisingly, HOUSE OF WAX is first and foremost an FX picture, and it fulfills that purpose with aplomb. One finds incredible commitment in the set design, which upholds its obligation to appear as a massive waxwork; even blunt objects like piano keys or marble tiles have that milky, semi-translucent appearance that leaves a visceral impression of their artificiality. The set may not count as a special effect exactly, but it is extremely special; its expressionistic flair filled me with the hope that it was a place I could visit, and I was inevitably disappointed to discover that it was a temporary construction in Australia’s Gold Coast, long since demolished. The violence is the main event, of course, and HOUSE hosts an exciting array of gory gags that I have rarely seen elsewhere, and that are better seen than described.

Lest anyone think of violence as a limited form of emotional exploitation, one of the things I like most about this remake is its use of horrific injuries to do something unusual in mainstream film. A character who has to wrench a crossbow bolt from his sternum vomits from the shock of it, conveying a physical reality that I can only immediately relate to Dan Hedaya getting smacked in the balls with a baseball bat in BLOOD SIMPLE. The main character survives the film with a severed finger, which is highly unusual; your average Hollywood production needs to restore order at the end of the story, and won't risk bumming out the audience with the thought of living with a permanent disfigurement. The few examples that come to mind are not necessarily mainstream visions, including DELIVERANCE and FROM BEYOND, in which disfigurement is used to communicate a grim ending for a trespassing character for whom there is no salvation. HOUSE OF WAX has no such philosophical pretentions, but its evocations of visceral revolt and permanent damage add an interesting touch of realism to an otherwise extremely cartoony movie.

Paris Hilton really is perfectly good here, although I suspect that one reason I like her is that I find her so relaxing to watch. One of Hilton’s signature characteristics, often interpreted as pure bimboism, is that she absolutely does not let anything get to her, ever--besides being terrorized by psychotic craftsmen, of course--a quality that she does not share with other celebrity “trainwrecks” of her general description.

We don't find this realism in the narrative component of HOW, which is loaded with extraneous and unresolved teen drama. However, the movie does do something that the superior original does not: It adds subtext. The Vincent Price version offers glimpses of class conflict, in which various characters struggle against poverty in their own way--whether it's through insurance fraud, exploitative art, or interpersonal gold digging--but it doesn't amount to much, prioritizing the pure terror of the situation. The 2005 remake actually engages directly with the idea of the uncanny duplicate. It is one of those unusual, often uncomfortable movies in which the main "couple" are siblings. Elisha Cuthbert plays the responsible twin sister of Chad Michael Murray, who has grown into a sullen juvenile delinquent due to their parents' clear preference for their daughter. Meanwhile, we discover that Bo and Vincent (Brian Van Holt for both) were conjoined twins whose mad scientist father performed a controversial separation, leaving one of them deformed; in an early scene from their horrific childhood, we find that their deranged parents also preferred the more controlled twin over his insane sibling. The parents were in the business of creating artificial impressions of life: the father a disgraced surgeon, the mother a maker of wax masks. All of these narratives describe the neurotic human urge to curate appearances, to synthesize normality or idealism through behavior, art, and medical intervention. Even Chad Michael Murray turns out to be a synthesis of his parents' idea of him, his JD façade forming a protective shell around an essentially good kid who has taken the fall for his slacker friends. One can only imagine how relevant this story is to its twin screenwriters; only in the most general conceptual sense, one hopes.

Don’t get me wrong: HOUSE OF WAX is definitely not brainfood. Most of its characters are little more than crash test dummies, its big reveal is hard to understand, and as with most remakes of vintage classics, its main reason for being is outrageous sadism and dazzling visual effects. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I'm not trying to tell you that HOUSE OF WAX is especially deep--or even that it makes very much sense--I do want to insist that it makes a noble attempt to address an interesting idea, which is more than many audiences have given it credit for.

#blogtober #2020 #house of wax #1953 #house of wax 1953 #jaume collet-serra #chad hayes #carey hayes #elisha cuthbert #paris hilton #chad michael murray #brian van holt #horror #remake #twins #siblings #waxwork

56 notes · View notes

warsmith-38 · 3 years

Text

How I would do RWBY pt. 5

Season Five.

Lingering drama amongst teams despite stable exterior.

Everyone’s a little wary of Blake on account of her cutting and running on them a couple seasons ago.

Everyone’s a little wary of Ruby and her insane berserker moment against Cinder.

Everyone’s a little wary of Yang and her being a bit of a dick recently.

Everyone’s a little wary of Weiss being a little emotionally fragile at this whole experience.

JNR is wary in general on the grounds that they didn’t sign up for this level of shit.

Everyone’s a little frazzled in general on account of recent events.

Qrow is giving them the rundown on Salem and Ozpin as far as he’s aware.

Says that they’re ancient demi-gods that have been fighting each other since before history.

He only knows so much because Ozpin is pretty tightlipped about his past and only gives certain individuals certain amounts of information.

Speaking of, Ozpin is there to greet them at Haven.

And teams CFVY and SSSN, leading to a happy reunion.

Haven headmaster is indisposed and can’t be present. (He’s on the phone with Salem)

Ozpin gives the skinny on what they know of Salem’s plan.

The exact plan still eludes them.

What they do know is that she has the remnants of the White Fang that follow Adam with the greater White Fang being uninvolved, a loose cabal of personal agents here and there, and literally countless grimm to bring to bear.

Easy odds, as far as they’re concerned.

They also tell him that Cinder has been beaten.

He doesn’t really care, seeing her as just another dime a dozen assassin.

He happier about Tyrian (Salem’s only truly competent assassin) being dead than anything about Cinder.

Ruby is quick to also say that being dropped down a pit doesn’t necessarily mean Cinder’s dead and if she shows up she gets first dibs.

Speaking of, Cinder is quite alive.

She is quickly found by Emerald and Mercury.

Cinder is wounded, but still powerful enough to kill the both of them should they piss her off.

Brief recovery period.

Discover that Salem isn’t returning her calls.

Salem’s decided that she’s gotten all she can out of Cinder and that she’s not worth further investment.

She can find another urchin, creep, or psycho to mold.

Brief moment of heartbreak is capped off with new plan to regain Salem’s favor.

Emerald and Mercury try to offer other options but eventually agree to come along because they have fuck all for other opportunities.

Get to Mistral and seek help of local crime boss for passage to Atlas to go about evil business there.

Crime boss restrains Emerald and Mercury.

Reveals that Neo already purchased their services.

Neo is angry at Cinder. Blames her for Roman’s death.

Cinder and Neo fight, Cinder wins, and shifts the blame of Roman to Ruby.

Neo acquiesces and teams up with Cinder and co. for revenge on Ruby. (Team CEMN for the win)

First act of new team is to kill local crime boss for trying to dupe 3/4 of them and steal their shit.

Neo just shrugs. No honor among thieves. They overcharged her anyway.

Set off for Atlas to cause problems on purpose to regain Salem’s attention.

RWBY + JNR take a well-earned moment of respite.

Catch up with CFVY and SSSN, fill them in on what’s been happening.

Ruby tries to bridge gaps by returning to being the designated weapon repairwoman.

Grills everyone for not taking better care of their shit.

Because how hard is it to do basic maintenance people?

Given downtime is able to upgrade Jaune’s sword + shield.

Sword has cooler design and shield can produce bubble shield effect now.

Ozpin takes RWBY and JNR aside to ask them to join his inner council.

He would have done it earlier but he was waiting to see if Ruby’s second semblance would ever awaken.

When they agree he elaborates further on Qrow’s earlier explanation.

He’s a great big windbag so he just info dumps everything (that they need to know) on them at once.

Explains that he is opposing demi-god to Salem. A deity of order and building as opposed to destruction and chaos.

Explains that he and Salem were created from on the whims of an ancient god of creation to guide the free peoples of the world and keep them all safe and sound.

Creator god fucked off after making the two of them on the grounds that it is explicitly a creator god not god of anything else.

It made the world. Caring for it is somebody else’s problem.

He and Salem disagreed as to how best to help people.

Salem thought that growth through conflict was the way to go and Ozpin thought that being the guiding hand from behind the scenes would work the best.

It eventually devolved into just trying to kill the other for getting in the way of each other’s plans.

Salem’s goal is to remove Ozpin from the equation and let people build and thrive in the natural way with a disaster, war, or genocide or two every now and then to keep them on their toes.

She’s basically the big evil boogeyman of the world.

Ozpin’s goal is to remove Salem on the grounds that he feels that the best thing he can do to keep order is not to allow said disasters, wars, or genocides and keep people alive for his later plans.

Either can only be killed by direct action of the other.

They keep themselves separate and ideally safe from each other.

Salem has been trying to find workaround for this for ages.

Salem created the grimm as a means of keeping humanity on its toes, fed by negative emotion in an attempt of dissuading such feelings.

They failed both at that and as a means to permanently kill Ozpin, but she now had an army for the rest of her plans.

Ozpin responded by creating and seeding the world with dust, giving the people a means to fight against the darkness surrounding them.

He never puts himself in the direct spotlight of history. Always the vizier, never the king.

Dust also had the side effect of eventually irradiating humanity and giving them aura and, furthermore, semblances.

These newly powered people, when dead and buried, eventually fossilize into more dust.

Most dust mines are ancient burial grounds. Creepy ain’t it?

Ozpin tried to capitalize on his success and tried to create super-soldiers to use said dust, aura, and semblances to protect humanity by combining human and animal traits.

Yep, Ozpin created the ancient faunus.

That and racism is indirectly his fault too.

He made the original faunus to be overseers and guardians to humanity.

In essence, they were designed to be feudal warlords with extra animal abilities that secretly answered only to him and ruled humans with iron fists.

Resulting human rebellions happened and Ozpin used his creations as scapegoats, letting them take all the blame and quietly …quieting anyone who knew the truth.

And that’s where the racism first came from. It has long since changed and muddied, but that was the initial reason.

He words all of this nicer and glides over the parts that make him look bad.

Salem and Ozpin have been picking at each other like that for eons.

Fall of Beacon only happened to try and distract Ozpin long enough for the latest scheme to kill him to be tried.

Destroying his pet project school was just a bonus.

Suffice it to say that that particular plan failed its main objective but still caused everything to fall apart.

Salem is now officially persona non grata, if she wasn’t already, among those present to the explanation.

Adam is trying to get more support from Sienna.

He has a small band of hardliners (psychos) with him but wants more bodies for his plans.

Gives big speech about faunus supremacy and the like.

Sienna tells him to fuck off, points out that he’s just repeating platitudes and doesn’t really care about the cause.

Reiterates his excommunication, citing working with Torchwick and Salem (despite the fact that she was cool with it at the time) as well as getting an unignorably large amount of his own people killed.

Collateral damage only goes so far, even for terrorists.

Adam vs Sienna.

Sienna wins and Adam slinks away, defeated but alive.

Adam’s hardliners get some more members but nowhere near what he wanted.

He’ll have to make do.

Salem wants him to do as terrorists do across Mistral.

Adam suggest that since Fall of Beacon worked fairly well… second verse same as the first?

Salem puts the kibosh on that plan.

She wants people to learn and thrive in a semi-natural way, she doesn’t want to just wipe them all out.

She’s fine with a little culling now and then but too much killing and they’ll never recover right.

Has new plan to try and kill Ozpin.

Has resurrected Tyrian, making a faunus/grimm Frankenstein thingy that she can directly possess at will.

All she needs is an opportunity to infiltrate him into Mistral.

Adam’s job is to provide an exploitable distraction.

He’s okay with that.

Yang has argument with Blake about running off like a punk.

Blake says it won’t happen again.

Yang says once bitten twice shy.

Ruby talks to Blake about Raven and Tai and the abandonment issues Yang has as a result of them both.

Meeting Raven and realizing that she was just a piece of shit this whole time only made things worse.

Says that Blake leaving like she did didn’t help.

Ruby also admits that her own leaving probably wasn’t great either.

Ruby wants her to know that she has faith in her but Yang has always needed a little more than faith.

Weiss airs some grievances to Yang about her dickish behavior.

Yang apologizes for her churlishness and reassures Weiss that the team is still going to be together but she is still mad at Blake.

Weiss tries to help smooth things over further but is interrupted.

Ilia shows up, is met with gun barrels.

Says she was sent by Sienna to take care of Adam, avoiding getting slotted by everyone.

Is kept at arm’s length but if she’s helping then, sure fine whatever, she can help.

Coco, Yatsuhashi, Weiss, and Ren try to talk to Ruby about not going crazy the next time she sees Cinder.

The best they can do is get her to agree that being so out of control insane while fighting her might not be the best way to fight.

They try and say that that’s really not good enough.

Ruby changes the subject via some odd noises she hears.

Haven headmaster (Lionheart? I barely know, or give much of a shit about, canon at this point) is part of The Cabal and is giving regular reports to Salem.

How else could CEMN masquerade as Haven students?

Almost gets walked in on.

Cheeses it but leaves the grimm thing that lets him talk to Salem.

Ruby has brief conversation with Salem.

Salem tries to tempt her, says that Ozpin is an asshole that only wants to control people not help them.

Ruby calls her a bitch.

Cites that Salem ruined her life and got some of her friends killed for this crap, not to mention her fucking mother.

Salem is just listening, still stunned from the audacity of being called a bitch right to her face.

Ruby finishes off by saying that even if Ozpin is an asshole, better the devil you know.

She then kills the grimm.

People now know there’s a turncoat and the only absolute they have is that it’s not Ruby or Ozpin (duh).

Everyone walking on eggshells, not sure who the traitor is.

Accusations are thrown around.

Eventually, after some shouting, everyone comes to the conclusion that it’s also not WBY, JNR, CFVY, or Qrow.

Logic starts to work its magic.

Lionheart tries to calm everyone down, IE: distract everyone from the growingly obvious.

Adam is up to his old tricks.

Blake and Ilia notice and point it out.

Lionheart breathes a sigh of relief as RWBY and JNR mobilize to stop Adam.

Adam is just a distraction.

Tyrian is slipped into the city via some bribes and carefully placed murders.

Adam has placed bombs across the city and broadcasts to the city that they’re doomed.

The civilians start to panic and draw grimm.

Mistral defense force is now busy dealing with said grimm.

Team splits up to stop the bombs.

Tyrian makes his move, attacks Ozpin directly.

Salem assumes direct control, hoping that this will count as her killing Ozpin herself.

SSSN and CFVY pop up and fight Tyrian!Salem.

Start getting their shit kicked in because it’s a fucking demi-goddess in a crazy scorpion demon body.

JNR returns.

Qrow finally does something too.

Ozpin even gets off his lazy ass.

Everyone helps take on Tyrian!Salem and win, killing Tyrian for good and pissing off Salem.

Ozpin got killed again to do it. (He’ll be back)

Blake and Yang find Adam.

Fight him, beat him, he runs away, we know how this song and dance goes.

Blake chases him alone.

Says that she has realized that Adam had been trying to commit suicide by anti-terrorism for a while.

Adam gets enraged and fights Blake again.

Adam final boss fight.

Blake starts winning.

Adam goes beyond the brink of madness.

In his anger he manages to destroy Blake’s weapon.

About to kill Blake but sees a little trinket he gave her when they were kids.

Sees his own reflection and sees a monster where he should be standing.

Realizes his own sense of self-destruction.

“I must already be dead,” –Vlad Dracula Tepes. It applies, says I.

Blake puts Adam down.

Yang arrives, worried that Blake ran off… again.

Blake has completely broken down.

Yang comforts Blake, who just had to kill one of her oldest friends.

Bombs and terrorists are dealt with.

RW see Blake is having troubles and embraces her along with Yang.

Blake, with tears in her eyes, swears to never abandon her team and friends ever again.

RWBY comes together and all vow to be there for each other.

Team RWBY are truly together once again.

Ruby uses parts from Adam’s weapon to repair and upgrade Blake’s.

Ozpin gets back up. (What I tell ya?)

Lionheart is found out as the traitor and calls everyone chicken shit for siding with Ozpin.

Says that Ozpin is a paranoid control freak who would strip them of all free will and thought if he could.

In fact, he says that that exact thing is Ozpin’s plan once Salem is beaten.

Salem at least promised freedom.

Ozpin doesn’t exactly deny these accusations by promptly and rather brutally executing Lionheart.

Reactions are cut short when a news bulletin plays on the TV about problems in Atlas.

WF-SDC war has officially stopped being a shadow war and there is now open combat in the streets.

They catch a very brief shot on the telly of something that looks a lot like a grimm arm on some chick.

Ruby has reacquired target-lock.

RWBY and JNR set off once again, this time for Atlas.

Season five done.

#RWBY #Not going to bother tagging it as RWDE from now on #Ruby Rose #Weiss Schnee #Blake Belladonna #Yang Xiao Long #Qrow Branwen #Cinder Fall #Emerald Sustrai #Mercury Black #Neopolitan #Team JNPR #Team CFVY #Adam Taurus #Sienna Khan #Salem #How I would do...

12 notes · View notes

maribatlife · 4 years

Text

Lost Boys Pt 1

Apparently I never posted this over here. Whoops! Enjoy some Adrien and Damian Found Family

Summary:

Like Father Like Son: Damian starts Adopting at a Young age Nature vs Nurture: Bat Fam Edition "I’m fully aware of your adopting habits, this one is suitable and I will call him brother and he shall be my brother." - Damian al Ghul Wayne (probably)

Inspired by Lost Boys by Ruth B

AO3

Damian had heard about his father's unfortunate habit of adopting unsuitable heirs, however he never understood it. Why choose someone so obviously unworthy to continue on his legacy. It would change when he met his father. Batman would finally have a worthy heir and the others could be dismissed.

Currently he was in Paris, waiting for his mother to finish a mission. While she was busy, he was scouting out escape routes. No matter what anyone might say, he was in no way exploring the city. He was Damian Al Ghul and he was an accomplished assassin; he did not explore. There was an added difficulty with Paris' Akuma problem, he was more than up to the challenge. The heroes of Paris' were currently dealing with an akumatized baby on the other side of the city.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a black steak drop into a nearby alleyway. He crept closer, not making a sound in the empty street. In the alley stood Chat Noir, then in a flash of green light the cat hero disappeared and in his place was the model you couldn't escape in Paris and a floating blob.

"Cheese, I need cheese." The blob whined.

Agreste fished some cheese out of his pocket. "Eat quickly Plagg. I need to get back before anyone notices I'm gone."

"Kid, don't rush me. You have to appreciate the cheese. Plus, you might want to worry about the kid that just discovered your identity."

"Wha~, oh Ladybug is going to kill me," he said finally spotting Damian.

"Probably," Plagg added helpfully. "Tikki's chosen are usually goody-goodies."

"Tt, like I care about your identity Agreste." The blob, now identified as "Plagg", flew into his face. Upon closer inspection it looked like a cat.

"Listen closely kid, I'm thousands of years old. You become a threat to my kitten, you'll find out what happened to the dinosaurs firsthand. Got it?"

"I am the heir of the Demon's Head. Is that supposed to scare me?"

"Wait, why are you alone in Paris? Where are your parents?" Adrien interrupted.

In the background Plagg muttered, "So that old man is still alive. Need to talk to Sugar cube about that."

"Mother is… finishing some business and then we are leaving Paris."

"But you're left alone a lot? With a parent that only cares about how you perform in public?" At Damian's hesitant nod, Adrien smiled. "Same," he paused as if weighing the potential consequences of the next words. "Want to do normal kid stuff with me? Honestly, my dad probably won't notice and you're already out sooooooo…."

Damian quickly analyzed the benefits. His father was well known and had a prolific public life. If he could blend in with "normal kid stuff", while it might be tedious now, it would benefit him in the long run. "That is acceptable, Mother will call with a rendezvous point when she is ready."

"Okay first rule of being normal kids, use less words. Talking with proper grammar all the time is 'not cool'." The last bit was punctuated by air quotes. "Also, what's your name?"

Ah, a test. He had this. "Damian."

" 'kay Dami," catching Damian's glare he hurriedly continued. "Nicknames are important in friendships. They show trust and affection. We're going to meet my friend Nino to hang." As they walked down the street Adrien conveyed other bits of wisdom like "There's a whole group of food that you eat with your hands, using a fork and knife with those is considered weird," and "some people give hugs to show how much they care about you."

Damian half wished he could write these tips down. After all, everyone in the league had lived in the world and it was second nature to them.

"Yo my dude, what's up?" A boy with a red cap jogged up to them.

"Not much." Adrien gave the other boy a first bump. "This is Damian," be shot Nino a significant look. "His mom's like my dad."

"Hey little dude, welcome to Normal Kid land." He held his fist out towards Damian.

Damian quickly realized it was not an attack, but a greeting ritual and he bumped his fist against Nino's with only the slightest hesitation.

"Alright my dudes, let's go pick up the girls and get this chill sesh going."

Adrien turned to Damian as they walked towards Rue Gotlieb. "Every time we can hang out, we rotate who decides the activity. This time it's Marinette's turn, right Nino?"

"Yup Dudette's deciding and word on the street is there's a UMS 3 tournament happening at an arcade nearby. So, it's either going to be that or the new fashion exhibit at the Louvre."

They arrived at the bakery just in time to see Nathalie's car pull away and hear a screech of "Oh my God." They entered the apartment upstairs only to see Alya kneeling before Marinette.

"Girl you have to calm down."

"Alya do you understand how big this is? I have to start designing now. Oh, what will I wear?" Not noticing the boys entering the room she rushed to her sketchbook. "Okay, it's black tie formal." She started flipping the pages. "Sun dress, day dress, semi-formal, too casual."

The boys moved over towards Alya. "Babe, what's going on?"

"Adrien's dad just invited Marinette to accompany Adrien to the donor and VIP party for the new exhibit at the Louvre."

"Oh yeah," Adrien sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "I think Nathalie mentioned that to me."

"Sunshine," Alya said with her hands on her hips. "As my girl's bff I need advance notice of these things to avoid this." She gestured towards Marinette who was still frantically flipping through her sketchbook.

"Why do I have nothing black tie?" Marinette moaned.

During all of this Damian had made his way over to where Marinette was frantically going through her designs. "This one." He said with a commanding tone. "Make it longer and extend the embroidery on one side of the skirt.

Marinette screeched and clutched the sketchbook to her chest, while Damian looked on unimpressed.

"That was not necessary. You need to be more aware of your surroundings." Damian glanced at Adrien. "So, these are your… friends," the unfamiliar word heavy on his tongue. "What purpose do they serve?"

Adrien shot a panicked look towards Alya and Nino, when Marinette stepped in. "Friends don't need to serve a purpose. They support you when you're not feeling your best and you do the same for them. Friends are really just siblings that you choose for yourself.”

Damian was busy contemplating that thought when his phone beeped once, twice and then fell silent. Glancing at it he realized that Mother had finished her business and sent him the coordinates for their rendezvous point. He quickly left and it was only on the flight back to Namba Parat that he noticed the slip of paper in his pocket. Sneaking a glance he noticed a string of numbers and an email with a hastily scrawled note at the bottom that read “So we can keep in touch. -A.A.”

A few years had passed since that fateful day in Paris. Damian had been diligent in cultivating the relationship with Agreste. The biggest change came a few months after they met. It had been one of the few times Damian managed to get access to a web camera and slip away from his watchers for a few hours. He had quickly sent a video call request to Agreste. It had been the first time since they met in Paris and when the connection settled, he had used the title that only dwelled in the recesses of his mind. “Gēgē, I have been informed that I will be studying in London for the time being.” When he realized what he had called Agreste, he was quick to end the call. But his gēgē had not let him dwell on it and acknowledged the honor that came with the title.

Now, Damian stood in the shadows of the rooftop where Mother was confronting his father. As he surveyed the crowd before him, two fingers worried at that old worn piece of paper. The number it originally held was long faded from it's surface but forever imprinted in his mind. With a jolt he returned to the task he had been given. It would not do to miss Mother's signal and give Father a poor impression of his diligence, he thought. Father had only brought along his current Robin with him. That was fine. He could easily defeat him, and there was Mother's signal.

He strode forward with all the confidence he didn't feel. This was the easy part. All he had to do was defeat the charlatan in combat and claim his rightful place as his father's heir. Before he had time to prepare what he was going to say he was at Mother's side, her steadying hand on his shoulder. "Father," so far it was going well, "I thought you would be taller."

"Robin," his father's voice came out in a low growl. “Bring your brother to the Batmobile. I need a word with Talia."

Damian stalked past the impostor. Of course, Father would not have them fight there. There were too many potential witnesses. His face twisted into a grimace. Mother would never tolerate a beginner mistake like the one he just made. Father must be disappointed in him already.

He climbed into the black car Drake motioned to. He would correct his father's perception of him. He had to. Failure has never been an option for an al Ghul. Drake was talking to a Penny-One, who remotely enabled the vehicle's autopilot back to the "Cave".

The "Batmobile" parked just as two motorcycles roared into the cavern. One carried the familiar figure of Batman. The other, a bright red bike, carried another one of Damian's alleged brothers, according to the information Mother had given him. There was something about him, an important piece of information that Damian couldn't remember. Then Todd spotted him and hurled his helmet as hard as he could onto the cave floor with a sharp crack.

"Damnit Bruce! Another one?!" He roared as green started to tinge the blue of his eyes.

That was it. This was the one Grandfather permitted to use the Lazarus pool.

"Jason, Damian is my son."

"I thought we were all your sons you consarn sarding hypocrite."

"Jay-lad, I meant Damian is my biological son. With Talia."

Damian had used the momentary distraction of Todd losing his temper, -tt- amateur, to swipe Todd's phone. He raced into a sectioned off area of the cave. Not noticing his father's first ward descending into the cave. Dick quickly moved to calm Jason down. "Jay-bird, I get you're upset with Bruce, but we've got a bigger problem."

"And what would that be, dickhead?"

"Who's missing their phone? 'Cos the kid just ran into the changing room with one."

They all barreled after Damian, stopping just outside the door.

Inside Damian was listening to the ring of the phone, willing Adrien to pick up with every ounce of his body.

"Hello?"

"Gēgē, it's me."

"Dami, what's wrong?"

"I think I messed up." He paused, "Mother decided that I was ready to meet Father. To assume my rightful position as his heir." Adrien hummed and that was all the encouragement Damian needed. "I insulted him when I greeted him." He admitted. "Todd was angry about my existence and Drake is my competition. Grayson does not appear to be here. How can I possibly gain Father's approval now?"

"Dami, you're a good kid and no matter what happens you have me," he paused. "And I'm sure Mari would love for you to be her little brother. But why not try bonding with them over their interests. But if worst comes to worst, remember what Mari said friends are?"

"Yes, thank you, gēgē." Damian quickly deleted all traces of his phone call, before moving to rejoin his father and the rest. He opened the door only to see his father completely filling the frame.

"You have a brother?" He demanded.

"Due to your habits, father, I have a multitude."

"Who were you talking to?" He demanded again. “Your mother didn’t mention another child of ours.”

“That is none of your business.” Damian shot back, as his alleged brothers’ heads moved back and forth between the pair, looking like the strays they were. It appeared that Grayson had joined them while he was on the phone.

"Bruce, it’s been a long night for everyone.” Grayson started

“That is quite right Master Dick. This can all be discussed over breakfast tomorrow morning.” Pennyworth announced as he walked down the stairs to the cave. “Young Master Damian, if you would return Master Jason’s phone, I will show you to your room now.”

“That is acceptable, Pennyworth.” He handed the phone back to Jason and left the room after Pennyworth.

As soon as they were gone, “Jason, give the phone to Tim. Tim, trace who Damian just called, start looking for any connections to the League of Shadows.”

Fifteen minutes later Tim had to be the bearer of bad news. “Sorry Bruce, but according to the phone, no calls have been made on it all day. The only way we’ll find out who he was talking to anytime soon is if he tells us.”

“HA,” Jason barked out. “B, finally has a kid just as paranoid as him.”

“Damnit!” Bruce’s fist hit the table. “I need to know.”

“Bruce, why is it so important? It was his brother.” Dick questioned

“What if it was code? This could all be a part of Talia’s plot.”

“So, we keep an eye on the twerp. It’s not the end of the world.” Jason started to leave the cave.

The next morning, Damian descended for breakfast. Unfortunately, Father’s band of orphans had already assembled at the table. In addition to the group he had expected, a woman sat next to Father, laughing at something Grayson had said.

After he finished eating, the umbrage of questioning started.

“Who’s your brother?”

“It is not important to you; I am your only blood child.”

“Where does he live?”

“France,” Damian acquiesced. France was a large country, the odds of Father finding Gēgē were minimal.

“How is he connected to the League?”

Damian hesitated, if he did not answer this question, Father could ask Mother about Gēgē, which would endanger him. “He isn’t.” Damian used the resulting confusion to slip away.

He had been wandering the grounds for a few hours when Grayson found him.

After a while of walking in silence together, Grayson spoke. “So how’d you meet your brother?”

“Mother had a mission in France. She decided to test me on how well I could blend in. Gēgē found me while I was waiting for her to finish. He insisted on keeping in contact when I had to leave.”

“Any questions for me?”

“Who was the woman at breakfast?”

“Selina, she’s B’s fiancee. Why didn’t you want to tell B about your brother?”

“I’ve had to keep him secret for years from Mother and Grandfather. What does Father expect from me?”

“That’s complicated. Do you mean what does he expect right now, or what does he hope for from you?”

“Both.”

“B hasn’t said what he expects from you. I think he’s nervous about why your mom brought you here, now. But his hopes for you are the same as the rest of us. That you adapt to this change well and are happy here. Eventually, he’s hoping you trust him, but I think it’s a little soon for that.” They fell into silence again as Damian contemplated that answer. Eventually, Dick spoke again trying to steer the conversation into neutral territory. “What do you like to do?” Damian shot him a puzzled look. “In your spare time? What do you like to do?”

“I draw. When will Father set the trial by combat?”

“The what?”

“The trial by combat against Drake. For the position of Robin. It will be soon, correct?”

“Why would you fight Tim? That’s not how Robin works. When Tim is ready to become a solo hero, he will pass down the title.”

“I am Father’s rightful heir. It is my duty to fight by his side.”

“I’m pretty sure B doesn’t expect that.”

“-tt-,” Damian walked in silence back to the house with Grayson.

When they got inside, they separated. Damian headed back towards his room. Dick, however, walked like a man on a mission. “Alfred, do you know where Bruce is?”

“I believe Master Bruce went to the cave.”

“Thanks.” Taking the stairs two at a time, he rushed down to the cave. “Seriously, Bruce? You find out you have a son and instead of getting to know him, you’re down here doing the paranoid Bat routine?”

“Dick, this is important. Who knows what Talia is plotting? I can’t give him too much information.”

Tim looked at Dick and then at Bruce and quickly decided to make his exit.

“He has a name B. And maybe if you actually, I don’t know, talked to Damian, you could figure this out faster.” A bing came from the computer and Dick moved to investigate. “Really, a DNA check?” He picked up the file folder. “Well congrats Bruce, it’s a boy.” He threw the file into Bruce’s chest and stormed back up the stairs.

Just before Damian entered his room, that woman approached him. “Hey, Damian, right? I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier. I’m Selina Kyle.”

“Yes, Father’s latest paramour.”

She chuckled but before she could respond Drake stormed by. “What’s wrong Tim?”

“Dick and Bruce are at it again. I’m getting out of the blast zone.”

“Well, why don’t we all go out shopping? Damian, I’m sure you need to pick some stuff up.”

“-tt- That will do.”

As Dick stormed out of the cave, the group of three pulled out of the manor driveway.

“Dick, Chum, I’m just trying to be careful. He already knows everyone’s identity, and maybe he’s not a part of Talia’s plot but I can’t just accept that. Talia doesn’t do anything without a reason.”

“Fine, but you could at least talk to him.”

“I-“

“Talk to, not interrogate him. I bet I know more about his brother than you do.”

“How?”

“We played 20 questions. Damian met his brother while Talia was on a mission in France. His brother insisted on keeping in touch, and Damian believes that Talia and Ra’s didn’t know about this brother.”

“Why wouldn’t he tell me this?”

“Because he doesn’t know you.” Dick was exasperated. “You didn’t even introduce Selina to him.”

“I didn’t?”

“No, B you didn’t. I get that it’s important for you to make sure we’re safe but you have to remember that he’s 10. His life has just been completely uprooted. On another note…”

“Jason?”

“Jason, you really need to let him know you don’t hate him.”

“I could never!”

“I know that, and you know that, but does Jay know that?”

At the mall Damian had selected some civilian attire, thanks to a surprise shopping trip with his Gēgē and Mari he learnt how to shop for clothes. That woman was well suited to help him pick out clothes. Then Drake dragged them into a nearby technology store. “What are we here for?”

“Well, you’re going to need a phone, Babs and I’ll make sure it’s secure tonight,” Drake started. “Plus, a laptop, for school, game systems, so you know what the other kids are talking about- “

“Wait,” Damian interrupted. “Father is going to send me to school. With children?!” He was incredulous and aghast.

“Well, yeah,” Drake replied. “It’s the law.”

“I am so far beyond whatever those incompetents could possibly teach. I have a Doctorate!”

“Then B will say it’s for social skills. Point is you’re going to have to go and the laptop will let you Skype your brother.”

“Alright, but I will fight Father about school.”

“Been there, tried that, have the commemorative Mug.” Drake continued as he peered at specifications. “One of the first things you’ll learn about Bruce, is that us appearing to be well-adjusted people is very important to him. If it helps think of school as being undercover. You need to convince people that you’re a typical 10-year-old, not someone who has a PhD.” With that Drake selected a laptop and moved on to grab a Switch system and some Pokémon games.

As they left the store, she asked, “Need anything else, Kitten?”

Damian hesitated. Should he trust them with this? “If there is an art store…” he trailed off.

“Sure Kitten,” Kyle said. “What type? Drawing, painting, knitting? Whatcha like?”

“Primarily drawing and oil painting.”

“Well if you ever want to try knitting…”

“Selina stop trying to induct another person into your knitting cult. You already got Jay, isn’t that enough?”

“Nope,” they walked into the craft store. “Kitten, I’ll be in the yarn section, just grab what you want.”

“You don’t even like the yarn here!” Drake shouted after her.

Selina ignored him as she walked off. Damian looked at him questioningly as he grabbed sketch pads and canvases. “Why did you not go with her?”

“She’s going to be over there for a while. Plus, I’ve spent tons of time with Selina, I haven’t spent time with you.”

“Why would you want to? I am a threat to your position. Unless, this is to learn my weaknesses. I see you possess a superior sense of strategy than I had originally suspected Drake.”

“Wha-No, why? You’re my new brother, I want to know more about you.”

Damian headed off to find Kyle with Drake tailing after him. “You can admit to the ruse. I have found you out.”

“You’ve found nothing.”

“Being disingenuous is unbecoming. I have discovered your scheme.”

“Damian, I literally just want to get to know my younger brother but go off I guess.”

Damian’s confusion from that statement only grew as they found Selina with a cart full of yarn.

“We left you alone for 5 minutes.”

“I have zero impulse control. I don’t know how you keep forgetting this.” She replied plucking Damian’s choices from his hands and adding it to the cart.

They drove back, only to be greeted by a very confused Bruce as Selina carried bags filled with yarn into the house. “Come on Baby Bat, you need to know where the craft room is.”

“What happened?” Bruce asked Tim.

“We took Damian shopping; I think we bonded but apparently he thinks I have some scheme to defeat him in a fight. Don’t know what that’s about, but I need coffee.” Tim replied going into the kitchen.

That night was the start of regularly scheduled calls between Damian and Adrien. Damian took extreme precautions to keep the calls private. They where never the same night of the week or the same time of evening, and while he locked the door to his room, he never called from there. Despite bets to the opposite, Jason was the first to find Damian while he was on a call.

“Yo, Gremlin, whatcha up to?”

“None of your business, Todd.”

“Dami, is that one of your brothers?” Came an unfamiliar voice.

“-tt-, it is no one important.”

“Aw, Gremlin, I thought we were closer than that.” He captured Damian in a headlock and got a good look at the screen. “Oh, you’re that teen model…” He snapped trying to remember the name.

“Adrien.” Adrien supplied.

“Yeah, that’s it! You’re the Gremlin’s brother?”

“Todd, remove your hands before I remove them for you.”

“Touchy, touchy Baby Bat.” Damian snarled at him, while Jason pulled out his phone and took a selfie with the computer and Damian.

“Delete that Todd.”

“No can do, you know how the others are. I won and now I have proof.”

“TODD,” Damian screamed, as Jason ran back to the house.

After that, all the Wayne boys made consistent interruptions in Damian’s calls. Grayson was the most frequent. Drake was second and the most annoying, constantly pestering Adrien with questions, that varied from how often he sees his father to how many hours he worked modeling for his father’s brand.

“Hey Dami, why does your brother keep asking all those questions?” Adrien asked one day.

“It is Drake, I try not to delve into his potential thought process.”

“Well, Damian, that sounds like a you problem.” Drake shot back as he continued to type on his laptop.

“Anyways, Dami school got out early today.”

“Oh, what was the reason this time?”

“Mr. Pigeon again. Poor Mr. Ramier, all he wants is to feed the pigeons.”

“Wait, what?” Drake interrupted again.

“Drake, Gēgē is trying to tell me about his day and complain about Hawkmoth. Stop interrupting.”

“Who’s Hawkmoth?”

“Wait,” Adrien interrupted, “You don’t know about Hawkmoth? Paris’ supervillain? Attacks at least 4 times a week for the past 4 years? His Akumas are always defeated by Ladybug and Chat Noir? None of this rings a bell?”

“No,” Drake said slowly.

“Ugh,” Damian rolled his eyes. “Here research away to your heart’s content and let me talk to Gēgē!”

#maribat #damian adopts adrien #low sodium fanfic #Lost Boys #My writing

130 notes · View notes

justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

Text

Destiny Has Other Plans | Loki x OFC (Alexis Randall) | Chapter 1

Pairing: Loki x OFC

MASTERLIST IS HERE

Summary: When Loki goes to ask his father for permission to marry, he is shocked to discover his destiny has already been made for him. He is already betrothed to Sjofn, the daughter of the King of Vanaheim. An arranged marriage to bring the two kingdoms closer together and strengthen the bond. Never mind that Sjofn and Loki can’t stand each other.

After The Battle of New York, Loki is sent to live at Avengers Tower as punishment for his misdeeds. But it doesn’t mean he has to like it. A year later, he has adjusted to life on Midgard but has avoided any romantic or emotional entanglements, still bitter over his lost love. Dr. Alexis Randall is skilled at helping others fix their relationships as a couple therapist, but can’t help her own love life. A chance encounter with Loki in a dive bar has life altering consequences for both of them. Now, Alexis and Loki must figure out a way to co-habit without killing each other in the process, plus navigating impending parenthood and other roadblocks along the way.

This Chapter: Loki’s plans to grab the throne have gone horribly awry. Having been defeated by the Avengers, Loki must now pay for his actions on Midgard. Rather being throwing in the dungeon to rot, he is sent to live in Avengers Tower and repay his debt to the citizens of New York. One year later, he is adjusting to life on Earth. The only things missing would be a love match. But Loki’s heart is closed to the prospect of falling in love again, much less with a mortal, preferring a string of one night stands and casual sex to a relationship. A chance meeting with Alexis Randall in a dive bar seems like a perfect opportunity to continue his streak.

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Smut, Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Mentions of law enforcement, Oral Sex, Cursing, Vaginal Sex

Taglists are Open, please let me know if you wish to be added.

Loki’s chains clinked along the stone floor of the Asgard throne room. This is not how he imagined his grand entrance as the new ruler of Asgard, Midgard and the rest of the Nine Realms. Nothing had gone as he imagined, hence the chains.

Odin stared foreboding down at Loki and Thor, who stood by his brother’s side. Frigga was off to the side, her eyes pleading with Loki.

“Hello, Mother. Have I made you proud?”

“Loki, please let your brother speak.” Frigga told her son. “Don’t make things worse.”

“Define ‘worse’.”

“Enough!” Odin voice echoed. “Explain yourself, Loki.”

Loki stepped forward, clicking his heels together before chuckling.

“I really don’t see what all the fuss is about.” Loki commented, a smirk appearing on his face.

“Do you not truly feel the gravity of your crimes?” Odin countered. Thor’s eyes darted between the two of them. “Wherever you go there is war, ruin, and death.”

“I went down to Midgard to rule the people of Earth as a benevolent god. Just like you.”

“We are not gods. We are born, we live, we die. Just as humans do.”

“Give or take 5,000 years.”

“All this because Loki desires a throne.” Odin mused.

“It is my birthright.” Loki grew weary of his father’s games.

“Your birthright,” Odin spat. “was to die. As a child. Cast out onto a frozen rock. If I had not taken you in, you would not be here now to hate me.”

Loki stepped forward, chin lifted. “If I am for the axe, then for mercy’s sake, just swing it.It’s not that I don’t love our little talks, it’s just... I don’t love them.” Loki’s eyes begged for the conversation to end.

“It is only because of Frigga and Thor, you are still alive. I had intended for you to spend the rest of your days in the dungeon, but Thor…” Odin gestured to the tall blond god who stepped forward. “… has convinced me otherwise.”

Loki’s head snapped to glare at his brother.

“And what decision have you made for me? Once again?” Loki hissed.

Odin bit his tongue. “You live on Midgard, with those who defeated you.”

Thor piped in. “The Avengers.”

“And you will make amends for your crimes.”

“If it’s all the same, I would prefer the dungeon.”

“Which is why you will go to Midgard. Thor will be responsible for you.”

Loki rolled his eyes as Thor clapped his hand hard on Loki’s shoulder. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider? I am certain over time, I could learn to hate the dungeon as much as I despise you.”

Odin said nothing and waved his hand at the guards holding Loki and they lead him out of the room. Thor remained behind.

“If anything goes wrong, I am holding you accountable, Thor.” Odin snapped. He didn’t enjoy the idea of Loki being so far away but Thor assured him it would teach Loki some humility.

“Yes, Father.” Thor left to make the arrangements for their return to Midgard.

Tony met Thor and Loki at the entrance of the new rebuilt Avengers Tower, wearing a scowl.

“I don’t like this, Point Break. Don’t like this one bit. What is going to stop him from trying to kill us all again?”

Thor shoved Loki hard. “I promise I won’t kill you. Please let me stay. I promise to be good.” Loki responded with a flat affect.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Real believable, Reindeer Games. Appreciate the effort. Fortunately for you, I’ve made some upgrades to living quarters. Here.” Tony shoved a slim bracelet at Thor, who snapped it around Loki’s wrist, only then releasing him from his cuffs. Loki twisted her hands, stretching.

“Aww, Tony.” Loki smirked. “I didn’t know you cared enough to give me jewelry.”

“I don’t.” Tony smirked back. “It’s a tracking device and if you remove it with anything other than the key. Well let’s just say you will wish you were in the dungeons.”

“I already do.” Loki sighed. “Now if you don’t mind, please show me to my cell.”

Tony laughed. “Oh you are not a prisoner. You are working off your debt, buddy. Thor take him upstairs.”

Loki was silent until the elevator doors closed. “What did he mean, I would be working off my debt?”

“Another condition of you coming here was that you work to not only help rebuild the city but to help the Avengers when needed.”

Loki wrinkled his nose. “Like going on missions and what not?”

“Not until we can trust you.”

“We?” Loki raised his eyebrows. “You always were the joiner weren’t you?”

“There is nothing wrong with having real relationships, Loki. You should try it sometime.”

“I did, only to have Odin destroy whatever shred of happiness I had or ever will have.”

The elevator doors opened. Thor nodded.

“Odin told me about Lady Sigrun. I am sorry it did not work out.”

Loki’s nostrils flared. “It was working out fine until Odin decided that my future for me while I was still in diapers.”

The elevator doors opened, revealing a common area with couches and a TV. Around the corner, a full equipped kitchen.

“Sometimes destiny has other plans for us, Brother.”

Thor guided Loki down a hallway to a nondescript door, unlocking it with a keycard. Inside was a sparsely furnished apartment, little more than a couch, table and chairs. Loki spied a bed in the bedroom with a closet and dresser and a bathroom behind that.

“Destiny is a cruel mistress, Brother.” Loki flopped onto the bed, tugging off his boots. “The sooner you learn that, the better off you will be.”

Thor shook his head at his brother. “Stark says to ask JARVIS to order anything you may need for the apartment. You can wander the floor and to the lobby freely. We will expand access as you earn it.”

“And he said I wasn’t a prisoner. It is a prison of a different sort.”

Thor gripped Loki’s shoulder, shaking him hard. “Try and make the best of things, Loki.”

“How do you suggest I do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, find a hobby, make some friends, fall in love.”

“Love.” Loki scoffed. “Why bother? To fall in love with mortal to watch them wither and die? I would rather not. But your sentiment is touching.”

“I do not know what has soured you so, Brother. I only hope you meet someone that makes you realize love is worth the trouble.”

Loki flashed a smug smile. “Not likely. Now leave me.”

Thor rose, squeezing Loki’s shoulder, leaving the keycard on the nightstand. “I’ll meet you in the morning. And I am just down the hall, if you need anything.”

Loki shooed him away. Once the door shut, Loki groaned and laid back on the bed.

One Year Later

Loki sipped his large caramel mocha coffee and smiled. Of all the wonderful treats created by the kitchens of the palace, nothing compared to designer coffee of Midgard. A small pleasure he granted himself each morning on his walk. Today he also purchased a chocolate chip scone which he devoured before reaching the Tower and a small regular coffee for Thor.

The pedestrians no longer swerved or sneered as he walked by. Even the barista took to smiling at him when he came in to order. He hated to admit Thor may have been right about making the best of his time here on Earth.

There was a spring in his step as he entered Avengers Tower, waving at the security guard on his way to the elevators. Once he reached upstairs, Loki knocked on Thor’s door. Thor opened the door with a groan and Loki shoved the coffee into his hand.

“De-briefing in twenty minutes. I suggest you get dressed.” Loki commented.

“I liked you better when you were brooding.” Thor grumbled, walking away, but leaving the door open for Loki.

Loki finished his coffee, discarding the cup. “You were the one to make the best of things. I am merely following your advice.”

Thor downed the coffee in one gulp, emitting a large burp. Loki wrinkled his nose. Thor smiled back at his brother.

“I also suggested you find a nice woman and fall in love. Still sticking with one night stands?” Thor grabbed a mug from the small kitchenette in his quarters and poured himself another cup.

“My love life is no concern of yours.”

“One night stands it is.” Thor smirked and disappeared only to return a few minutes later dressed for the day in jeans and a hoodie. A stark contrast to Loki’s grey dress pants and matching button-down shirt. “Ready?”

“Lead the way.”

The two Asgardians made their way to the 20th floor, where most of the Avengers operations were housed. Loki was given free range of the Tower’s facilities three months ago except for the ARC reactor, Bruce’s lab, and Tony’s private workshop. The bracelet, however, remained in place.

“Glad you could grace us with your presence this morning.” Tony joked. “Take a seat. Donuts and coffee are for closers.”

Loki beelined to the pastries, selecting a chocolate glazed donut. Steve blinked at him.

“How can you eat so many sweets and never gain weight?” Natasha questioned.

“A god-like metabolism.” Loki countered, shoving a quarter of it in his mouth.

Tony tried to snatch the donut away, but Loki was too quick.

“Hey!”

“I said donuts are for closers.” Tony lunged for the donut again.

“Who defused the bomb?”

“Temporarily. You nearly kill the Cap.”

Loki glanced over his shoulder where Steve was scowling, arms crossed. He smiled back at Tony.

“And yet he lives, despite my best efforts. Now if you will excuse me, you’re delaying the de-brief.”

Loki grabbed a chair and squeezed between Steve and Bruce, despite there being no room. Loki made a show of finishing his donut. Tony rolled his eyes and started the de-briefing, only talking to Loki with absolutely necessary.

“And so for future reference, we confirm we deactivated a bomb before batting it around like a beach ball.”

Everyone stared at Loki, who gave a thumbs up. His mouth filled with his second donut of the day. Tony ended the meeting and the group scattered to handle other assignments. Loki was due in Bruce’s lab later that afternoon to help with a Chitauri artifact.

“Loki!” Steve jogged to catch up with him. “Some of the team are getting together tonight for drinks at Tilted Gimlet. Would you like to join us?”

Loki rocked back on his heels, contemplating the offer. He technically didn’t have plans for the night. But when he drank, Loki alone. He preferred to not have an audience.

“Another time? I am indisposed this evening.”

“Oh a date?!” Steve’s eyes widened. Loki nodded, not bothering to correct him. “Way to go, man. She’s a lucky girl.” Steve’s brow furrowed. “Or boy. Your brother mentioned something. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. Now if you excuse, Master Banner is waiting for me.”

Steve nodded and hurried away, Loki imagined in fear of insulting him again. Loki wasn’t insulted, but the Cap didn’t need to know that.

The rest of the work day dragged as Bruce poked and prodded the artifact. Loki sat down on a stool, being less than helpful. Bruce shooed him away an hour earlier, complaining Loki was in the way.

Loki returned to his quarters and showered. He replaced his dress pants with black jeans and knit polo. A bit casual from his general attire but a dress shirt would stick out like a sore thumb in the dive bars he frequented. He ate dinner in his apartment, avoiding his brother and the rest of the Avengers. Around 8 p.m., Loki slinked out via the service elevator and headed to his favorite watering hole, The Whiskey Front Room.

Alexis was nursing her third Manhattan at the bar. She thought she was all cried out when Eric sent the text breaking up with her earlier that day. She cancelled the rest of her appointments and sobbed at her desk. Alcohol was solution, that is plain science.

“I would peg you as a Cosmopolitan kind of woman.” A smooth voice purred into her ear.

She turned and squinted in the smoky haze of the bar to find the source of the voice. Standing beside her was a tall man wearing black jeans and polo hugging his lean form. His hair was long and dark, hanging loosely around his shoulders, while his piercing green eyes undressed her. Alexis had a nagging thought she knew the man, but the tendril of a thought blew away before it came to fruition.

“And I would have pegged you as a gentleman, so we are both wrong.” She turned back to down the rest of the drink.

The man sat down in the empty stool beside her. “Give me a chance. Name’s Loki.” He extended his hand. Alexis shook it.

“Alexis.” She tucked her chin length brown hair behind her ear.

“So whatever particular sorrow are we drowning today?” Loki ordered a whiskey neat.

“Breakup. By text.”

Loki winced. “And you say I’m not a gentleman.” He downed his whiskey and ordered another. You finished up your own drink.

“I don’t want to trouble with my relationship issues.” Alexis stood too quickly and wobbled a bit on her feet. Loki wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her. Alexis shrugged him off. “I’m fine!” She smoothed down her top. “I’m just heading to the restroom.”

Loki pressed his hand to his chest. “Allow me to escort.” Alexis raised an eyebrow at him. “To help with reputation as a gentleman.” Loki flashed a killer smile and Alexis’s knees buckled, this time not due to alcohol.

“Fine.” She suddenly wanted Loki’s arm around her again. As if he read her mind, his arm wound around her.

“Lead the way.”

Loki did not plan on ending up in the ladies’ room of the Whiskey Front Room. Once Alexis and him made their way to back of the bar, he planned on waiting outside to take her back to the bar or even walk her to her car.

Alexis had other ideas as she grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him into the bathrom. She continued to pull him into an empty stall, latching the door.

“You seem like a perfect rebound guy.” Her hands ran up and down Loki’s torso. His muscles twitched under her touch. “Tall, dark, polite, hot as fuck.”

Loki blushed. “I wouldn’t want to take advantage.” Alexis palmed his crotch.

“Little Loki would disagree.” she giggled, squeezing him through his jeans.

Loki’s eyes snapped to stare at her. “Don’t start things you have no intention of finishing.” he growled, pushing her against the stall.

“I always finish. Usually first.” Alexis grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a rough kiss. Loki bit her lower lip and she gasped, allowing Loki to explore her mouth with his tongue. Her hands trailed down his Loki body to tug at the fly of his jeans. Loki followed suit with her jeans.

His cock sprung free as Alexis shoved his pants just past his ass. Loki moved to suck along her neck, his lips left a trail of purple marks. She didn’t care.

“Well, that is certainly a surprise.” She pumped his cock a few times.

“I’ve never had complaints. Turn around.” Loki guided her around.

Her hands pressed against the cool metal wall as she bent at the waist, wiggling her ass. Loki smirked as he pulled her jeans down around her knees and smack her ass hard with his hand.

“Ow!” Alexis called out.

Loki pressed his torso against her back, warmth radiating through the fabric. “Can you keep quiet or do I have to gag you?” He rubbed his cock along her ass.

“I can keep quiet. Please fuck me, Loki.” she begged, bucking back against him.

He playfully slapped her ass again, and rubbed his hand along her smooth skin.

“Such a eager little thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes… please…” she continued begged.

Loki impaled himself inside of Alexis’s pussy, warm and wet.

“So wet, pet. Aren’t you a treat?” He gripped her hips and thrusted into her rough and fast. The time of niceties long gone as he stared at the dingy bathroom tile. Alexis did her best to muffle her moans, biting her lip hard enough to almost draw blood. She locked her arms to push against Loki’s cock. The walls of the stall shaking with each snap of Loki’s hips.

Alexis’s walls fluttered around Loki’s cock. “Loki. I’m… cum…” Her words cut off as Loki pressed his thumb against her clit and she screamed while she came.

Loki realized he should pull out, come on the floor, the stickiness would not be noticed. But Alexis’s pussy clenched him so tight, so perfectly that two thrusts later, he spilled inside her. She slumped against the wall, leaning on her arms. He pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants.

With a tender touch, Loki turned Alexis to face him. His lips softly kiss hers. He helped her dress, pulling her jeans back up and smoothed her head back away from her face. One of his hand slipped between them as he continued to kiss her, until it lighted on her lower abdomen. A green light glowed as he cast a spell, the same one he did every time passion overtook him. No need for the messy entanglement of a pregnancy.

Loki parted to share into Alexis’s blue eyes. “Your boyfriend was a fool to leave you.”

“I’m always unlucky in love.” she murmured, still coming down from the euphoria of great sex.

He kissed her one more time before slinking out of the bathroom. Alexis took a minute to collect herself before heading out into the bar proper. Loki nowhere in sight.

She hustled out to the street but nothing besides the night sounds of New York.

“Another rejection, what else is new?” She turned and headed home, hoping she wouldn’t regret tonight come morning.

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x ofc #loki imagine #loki smut #loki fluff #loki angst #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki series #destiny has other plans

15 notes · View notes

grahammasurian · 3 years

Text

Dumping Your Responsibility.

The dumpster outside my apartment building was completely overflowed. The truck missed a couple weeks for some reason and people just kept piling their shit on top regardless.

“My sin will be forgiven, the next sinner will go to hell!”

This came into my head whenever I thought of the garbage situation. I considered myself 99% innocent since I didn’t use the dumpster during these couple weeks. Unfortunately when disaster happens it doesn’t care how much you were involved, all it sees is your darkness.

What I could have done was call up our landlord. Maybe I didn’t add directly to the trash pile but I still could have brought attention to it. Unfortunately my mind gave me a great reason for not calling him, a wonderful why even bother type of belief. These curses will kill you but they provide immense relief.

He lives someplace nicer and keeps his back turned on this building, so if I don’t tell him anything he’ll keep believing whatever fantasy he’s living. Whenever I bring up something for him to look at he puts it off or conveniently forgets about it, can’t say I blame him. I'd love to do the same sometimes and then feel guilty about it for the rest of my life. It’s hard to convince myself that a life of eternal guilt is worse than a life of hard work. Maybe the simple solution is to just disregard the guilt and make everyone despise me, though I can’t say that seems like a good long term strategy.

I guess everyone likes to avoid responsibility too, don’t get me wrong I get it, because man it sure feels good to not take anything seriously, just sit back and relax through life, I’ll lay down in my bed and fold into a quarter circle. Pull my knees up to my chest and gently hold myself, like swinging in the breeze floating along to somewhere better.

Eventually some birds had a war over the trash that was at this point spilling everywhere, old food, old clothes, plastic shit, maybe real shit. It was a disaster but seemed to be an appropriate punishment for us. I watched a seagull pull apart a bag for 30 minutes, something about the completely boring and ordinary scene held a power over me. I imagined this feeling of our civilizations being consumed again by nature, it’s easy to forget that nature is constantly trying to integrate us more effectively. Integration with an ocean with a mysterious intention.

We could have salvaged things there, rescued some of our dignity and just accepted responsibility for what we did by not doing. I sat some nights debating whether or not I should just go out there and clean up everything alone. I didn’t mind the day, but at night I just loved how things seemed to come to life inside me. There was a power that I didn’t have access to during the day.

I decided it wasn’t worth cleaning up, after all I don’t really care what these people think of me, unless they express it to me. Plus I felt like I fit in better with my environment as a lazy drifter. When I run into the people that live here occasionally there is enough willpower on all our parts to say “Hi” and then move on our way. The two people that live under me, man and wife, maybe around late 50’s early 60’s always give me a glimpse into a possible future. The guy looks like his soul has been sucked out and not in a good way. It scares me for a moment and I tell myself I’ll keep it in mind but my actions don’t change.

The next week after the missed pickup and our experiment with apathy, something happened.

It was 12:33 AM, I was laying down in my bed with the window open, listening to the wind and feeling the slight breeze on my skin. Sometimes I’d lay there for hours listening to music or in silence, using drugs of course. The sounds of the night combined with distant sounds of the city created the backdrop for the worlds I explored in my mind. I break away from the atmosphere and write some ideas down in some form then go back to my mind.

I heard a familiar sound, the mother of this girl screaming in that resentful kind of way. Whenever someone talks that way to me my stomach gets sick, I see this person is using me to escape from something. You know instantly that this isn’t about you anymore, it's about them.

I hated the way this mother yelled at her daughter, I didn’t have kids of my own but I didn’t mind them, I generally see children as innocent beings until they gain awareness. When they become aware they turn into wood, hopefully they make it through and become real but many don’t. Some play as the twisted craftsmen, shaping the world with design. Night after night I’d hear this poor girl being molded into something that will make her unhappy for the rest of her life.

Even though it’s hard to feel connected with darkness, you still elicit feelings for things of the night. You react more on principle and not bigger picture at night, this mother was injecting venom deep into the mind of her daughter. Like a jackass I sat there each night it happened and listened to it like music.

Being man enough to walk down there one day and call her out on her shitty behavior was always in the back of my mind, but then I would think some more and figure what difference would it make? Sometimes I snap out of my delusions and wake up, I see who I am from up here.

Just look for the right words.

It didn’t happen every time but sometimes this warped girl would dash outside, slamming doors and shouting behind her. Most times I’d hear her small steps pace around or walk down out of earshot then eventually I’d hear her again coming from the other side of the building, maybe doing two or three laps like that before cooling off and gaining enough strength to go back. She feels like she just wants to give up but chooses to continue to face that fate which shows just how much courage she had.

This night the young girl made her usual escape, something about the scene caught my attention. Normally I just ignored it for the most part, but tonight I felt worried for her and listened to see if she was okay.

The shriek of her screaming scared me sober. That kind of pitch that you can only get when you feel real terror.

Confusion at night amplifies fear to a level that can go beyond anything you’ve ever felt. Sometimes hearing a loud noise randomly in the middle of the night only to realize it was something conspicuous is an interesting moment of tension and release of tension. When you listen to death it creates tension that doesn’t go away unless you force it to release.

I couldn’t see much but the sounds made up for the rest, I looked on in horror as this poor unfortunate girl came running towards the front door to come back inside. She must have forgotten to prop it open a little this time like she usually did. The door was shut, she couldn’t escape through there and it was the only chance she had time to try.

This whole thing happened so fast it was as if my mind refused to think about what I was seeing, this bear that must have smelled some food nearby came across her instead.

Hearing someone produce screams that come from a dangerous place, sends a painful shock through you. It would have been nice if I was one of those people that got off on that kind of thing but unfortunately I had to deal with the feelings of misery, dread, sadness, fear, anger, all at once.

A little bit slower than what should have been immediate there was incredible energy from all around, people coming out and making noise, not too many but enough for me to be impressed.

The general sentiment at the time was:

“Oh My God!” A big fat lady wearing a shaggy blue sweater screeched out. There were many other intense shouts, deflated yelps, sobbing murmurs, all mixing together slowly creating the atmosphere for a tremendously horrific scene.

All these half awake people, semi-disconnected souls felt something deep down within them for once. For the first time in decades some of these hopeless people felt alive, they acted without thought calling back to our primate ancestors. They witnessed a driving force, without realizing the lesson unfortunately.

Some of the people approached the girl to try and attempt some kind of help and others stayed away, accepting the situation or too afraid to know how bad it really was.

Some sobs were heard throughout the night as people came and went, voices that sounded defeated, voices that sounded ready to give up and heavy with guilt.

“Emily! No!” The mother cried. Obviously still drunk. Obviously deluded into thinking her daughter is anywhere close to alive.

“Please baby I’m so sorry! Please wake up baby!”

I had great disdain for this mother, but at that moment I felt bad for her. This woman made mistakes and in the end all it causes is suffering.

They came for her daughter, whisked her away into the abyss forever. Black cloaks riding into the stars on their skeletal horses. I wasn’t sure whether or not the constant beating I was hearing was a drum or my heart. We summoned these demons with our ritual, the choices we made were acts of incantation that brought forth monsters with the power to possess mortals, the possession was the final step in ensuring resurrection lest one of us snap out of the hypnosis and rescue the rest from the gaze of Medusa.

Then some downcast EMT workers took away her body, from the low looks and words after immediately coming upon the scene it was clear that hope didn’t exist anymore. I never saw the aftermath personally, where the actual attack happened was obscured to me by the awning over the door. Sometimes imagination makes things worse.

The mother followed her daughter into the darkness 3 weeks later.

#creative writing #short story #tale #journal #writeblr

2 notes · View notes

yamithediaperdork · 3 years

Text

Worlds fastest Little and a Super caretaker

Bart was willing to do many things for his friends, Help them out in epic battles, babysit (though most people only made the mistake of letting him baby sit once), Run errands at super speed but today Bart Allen, the fastest boy alive was going to go about and beyond in the favor he was going to do for his second best friend.

Because today he was going to let Kon diaper and baby him.

The urge to baby and look after a little guy was a left over from Kon's time spent in Gem world. After posing as and to some extent becoming the husband to Lophi and father to her son little Lon. Rao knows Kon had tried to just work his feeling out looking after little ones at a daycare job Kal had set him up with but it wasn't enough and he knew there was NO way in hell he'd be able to adopt.

That left finding a little (Something Kon hadn't even known had existed till a little google search) or someone close to one who could be trusted to keep his mouth shut.

Considering all of his options, it naturally came to him that Bart would fit the role perfectly.

'Now the only question is will I be able to keep up with a speed forced charged big toddler.'

Bart arrived five minutes late from when he was suppose to arrive having gotten distracted by a new arcade in town though he lied and said it was a intergang attack. Since he was doing Kon such a big solid Kon decided not to call Bart out on his bullshit excuse and just led him to the bathroom instead.

"Sooo why are we coming in here? I thought I was gonna be going in diapers? Or a training potty. Oh, Do you just want me to wear?" Bart asked, going a million miles a minute like always as Kon just chuckled.

"Bart, when was the last time you took a bath or had a shower?" Kon asked reasonably, starting to run a tub.

"I didn't come here to have my personal hygiene attacked!" Bart huffed and pouted, crossing his arms and glaring.

"Bart, Daddies give their their little ones baths and you smell like you need one." Kon said chuckling.

Bart went to argue then held up a arm and sniffed a pit and made a face at the smell.

"I say we agree to disagree but I'll humor you and let you give me a bath.. if I can play with some bath toys." Bart said, striping down at super speed and having spotted a few toy boats.

Since Kon was going to be diapering him anyways the smaller boy didn't bother to cover up and Kon wasn't shocked that he was devoid of any chest hair or pubic.

"I suppose that can be arranged, but I need to wash you first so g-" Kon started and then was hit with a splash of water as Bart jumped into the tub, shocking him. "-et the tub.. I'm starting to see this is going to be a little different from looking after Lon." Kon sighed, dabbing his face with a towel as Bart giggled impishly.

Bart giggled as he let Kon go to work washing him. Normally he considered Showers and baths a semi waste of time because of how slow they were but having someone else do all the work was actually kinda fun.

After having his hair and body washed Bart was left to coo and play with the boats and a rubber ducky as Kon cleaned up the water Bart had displaced and then went to change into dry clothes.

Oddly the more he played in the tub the more he started to wonder how the ducky would taste and kept stealing glances at the door, not sure how Kon would react if he came back to Bart popping the toy in his mouth.

Deciding to risk it Bart tugged the shower curtain semi closed, and then nommed on the head of the rubber ducky, and giggled, having his mouth stuffed and acting so babyish was bringing flash backs of sucking on a paci and sitting in his parents laps while they watched holo shows. He was enjoying it so much he just closed his eyes and chewed (making sure not to chew too hard) and lost himself in the feeling.

So much so it wasn't until he felt the water getting warmer he realized that apparently he had relaxed a little too much, he was peeing in the tub!

"Ah! Kon!" he yelped, spitting out the rubber ducky and pulling the curtain back. "I-I had a accident!"

Kon had been not only getting changed but setting up the cloth diapers for Bart, making sure he could get the little guy right into the diapies when he heard the cry and dashed into the bathroom.

he might not of been as fast as Bart but he could still hit a pretty nice burst of speed and was picturing the worse. he figured Bart had gotten hurt trying to get out, or had cut himself or something else, cursing himself for leaving the little guy all alone only to get in and see the once clear bath water now had a tell tale yellowish twinge to it, and his super sense confirmed that Bart not only had peed in the tub, but needed to drink more fluids.

The fastest boy alive was standing up in the tub, blushing badly and his bottom lip was trembling.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I didn't mean to it just came out an-" Bart was saying rapidly, sounding like a over sized toddler.

"heh, it's ok little man. I know you can't control it. I should of sat you on the potty first. At least you didn't make any 'torpedo's' in the tub." Kon said tugging the plug out of the tub and then making use of the removable shower head to re-wash Bart down.

Bart whined at the torpedo's comment but just shushed up and let Kon re-clean him then get him out of the tub, drying him off with a soft and fluffy towel.

"Speaking of stinkies though, I only have so many diapers and we wanna make it last before I have to wash any to change you..so did you wanna sit on the potty and try to go boom boom like a big kid?" Kon asked.

"I can go potty like a big kid!" Bart whined and huffed, his tone taking on a fussy toddler twinge. "And I KNOW I don't hafa uh-oh!"

"mmmhmmm..Of course you know when you have to go." Kon said, smirking and using a condescending tone. "Alright, if your SURE you don't need to sit, let's go get a diapie on you widdle guy." Kon coo'ed.

Bart was huffing and pouting as he padded along, Thinking about just how much of a meanie butt Kon was being when he was trying to be a good friend, even though as they got to the bedroom he could feel his tummy churning a little.

It was too late now though to say he needed to potty so he just convinced himself he could hold it for a little while.

"uh Kon..you know that there are disposable diapers on earth right?" he asked, even as he dropped the towel and plopped his butt on the thick white terrycloth diapers, nothing it was pre-powdered.

"heh, yeahhh but I'm used to cloth, and this is just cuter. plus I got you some adorable plastic pants." Kon chuckled, holding up a light base colored pair with rainbow sprinkles and teddy bears in diapers all over it.

Looking them over, Bart's face went shocked to curious while Kon swallowed, looking unsure/hopeful that Bart would like them.

As squeal escaped from Bart's mouth and he went all sparkle eyes, cooing and reaching up to hold them.

"They're so cuttttttte!" the worlds fastest little in the making gushed.

"heh, Glad you approve. they cost a pretty penny but figured you were worth it!" Kon said as Bart giggled and hugged the plastic pants, holding up and looking at them again then hugging them over and over. "uhhh buddy..I'm gonna need those back."

"...Pin my diapies up first." Bart said, giving a toothy grin.

"So clearly I'm gonna need to get you lots of teddies if we're gonna keep doing this huh?" Kon asked, tugging the cloth up and with expert ease getting the pins in and making sure the diapers were nice and tight.

Bart coo'ed and squeezed his thighs together, finding he couldn't get his legs to touch Kon had gone so thick but also finding he didn't mind at all, letting out a muffled poot and getting a raised eyebrow from Kon.

"Heh, you SURE you don't wanna go sit on the potty little man?" Kon asked, holding out his hand for the plastic pants.

"I'm good!" Bart giggled and gave the teddy bear plastic undies one last hug then handed them over.

Bart wasn't actually sure if Kon was gonna be able to slide the plastic pants over his puffy diapers, but though determination and the used of super steaght the deed was done, and Bart sat up on the bed and went to zip over to the mirror and see how he looked.

went, but didn't because the thickness though off the speedster and 4 steps in he ended up plopping on his butt, a adorable surprised look on his face as Kon chuckled and gushed.

"Awww! Babies first steps! wanna try again little man? I can help you if need me too." Kon coo'ed, coming over and leaning down holding out his hands.

Bart almost took the offer up, but then giggled and rolled over onto all fours, and showed that even reduced to crawling he was a quick widdle guy.

Honestly the sight of Bart crawling around in JUST his diapie and getting over to the mirror and coo'ing and giggling at how he looked was just too adorable, and if it hadn't of been for the agreement of no pictures Kon would of used up half a memory card already. he almost just let Bart keep posing in front of the mirror but they did only have SO long they could do this before Bart would have to go home, so he cleared his throat as he picked up a t-shirt he had a sneaking suspicion Bart was going to lover.. since it shared the same color and designs as the plastic pants.

"You don't mind if I finish getting you dressed do you?" Kon asked, a big grin on his face.

Bart turned to whine that this was good, then spotted the shirt and zipped over so fast Kon barely moved to the side in time to avoid being balled over and then Bart was on his knees reaching up and trying to grab the shirt.

"I want! I want!" he whined as Kon lifted it out of his reach.

"ah ah ah, Let me dress you little one..arm's up." Kon said.

Bart looked like he was gonna argue for a second (Kon figured he just wanted to hug the t-shirt like he had the pants) but then stuck his arms up in the air like a good little boy.

Sliding the t-shirt down and adjusting it, Kon wasn't really shocked when Bart crawled back over to the mirror to look at how cute he looked and giggle like a mad man.

His only regret in the whole thing was that originally it had been a teddy bear onesie Bart was meant to wear, but the company he had ordered from had messed up and there hadn't been time to fix the order. That and the company had forgotten to send the pacifiers Kon had ordered but at least his next order was going to be half off because of the mix ups.

'Oh well, always next time. sometime tells me I'm not gonna have a hard time convincing him to come back.' Kon thought.

Bart coo'ed and giggled and in a move that made Kon's heart melt, leaned in and kissed his reflection, something Kon had seen other toddlers do.

Moving from the bedroom Bart's tummy was rumbling lots though Kon had given up on asking him to use the potty, which was good because he didn't wanna lose any his new favorite outfit.

'Besides, I'm just hamming it up for Kon..I'm not really a widdle diaper boy..even if i am super duper kewt.' Bart thought, though he knew he was lying to himself.

there was no way he wasn't coming over and getting babied like at least ONCE a week from now on!

Sitting on a blanket on the floor he studied the baby toys Kon had gotten him, he was used to the toys of his time period and these were actually more fun to play with, though he kept nom'ing on some of the more brightly colored toys.

"Remind me to get you a teeth ring before next time." Kon chuckled, patting Bart's head.

"..That's a thing!? I want that!" Bart said excitedly.

"You sit here like a good boy while I go and make you a ba-ba, I don't want you getting all dehydrated." Kon chuckled, clearly not shocked by Bart's response.

"ok..but then a teething ring? Pleassssse?" Bart whined and tried the puppy dog eyes on his new semi daddy.

"Not today buddy. at least not right now." Kon said.

"Whyyyyyy?!" Bart whined and huffed

"Because you'd have to go shopping in your little outfit and it's mid day. Didn't think you'd wanna make this public." Kon pointed out and a muffled fart escaped as Bart blushed.

"Oh..yeah.. ehehehe..didn't think about that." he said sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head.

"I thought that might be the case. Apple juice or milk?" Kon said, chuckling lots at just how silly Bart was.

"Milk please. apple juice gives me the poops. trust me, you'll take me later." Bart said and giggled, blowing a raspberry.

"heh, So what your saying is if I want a super little present maker.." Kon said and winked, but then disappeared into the kitchen.

'..Why do I get the feeling I'm gonna regret telling him that?' Bart thought, but then had his attention drawn to a white and blue rattle with a teddy bear on the handle and started to shake it lots.

Kon had just finished making the ba-ba of milk, 3 percent, when a loud racket started to fill the apartment and he almost dropped the bottle, stumbling out and holding one hand to his left ear and the bottle in the other, he could see Bart had found the rattle and was playing with it..at super speed not aware of the racket he was making.

Not only was it loud enough to hurt Kon's super hearing, but the windows were vibrating and were seconds away from shattering.. all the while Bart was just looking at his rattle and shaking it unaware of the damage he was doing.

Coming over as fast as he could (he tried to yell and get Bart's attention but the noise was too much and Bart was off in his own little world) Kon got a hand over the rattle and stopped the noise.

"hey! what cha do that for!" Bart huffed.

"Buddy, you were shaking it at super speed and almost blew out my eardrums, as well as break my windows." Kon said.

"What? No I.." and Bart stopped and looked around, a few picture frames were cracked and things had been knocked around the room. "oh..Oh...Um.. Sowwy?" Bart said, gulping and giving a weak smile.

"...it's ok buddy. I didn't think about it when I gave you a toy like that. why don't I get rid of any noise makers while you drink up." Kon said.

he could see how bad Bart felt about it, but just like a parent with a real baby or toddler, he knew Bart hadn't known any better and like he had said, it was his own fault for leaving the toy there.

Getting rid of anything that made noise when it was shook Kon turned around to see Bart drinking his bottle, but with a few tears coming down his cheeks.

"Bart..it's Ok buddy. I'm NOT mad at you." Kon said, coming over and scooping up the big baby who tugged his ba-ba out of his mouth.

"I just..I was having fun and didn't..Please let me come back for more baby time!" Bart sniffled.

"Bart of course you can. I'll just have to be careful about toys I get you from now on." Kon said and kissed the whimpering big babies forehead, Taking a seat on the couch and taking the bottle from Bart and starting to feed him himself.

"Besides..now we know what to do next time some Parademons attack, get you two rattles then dive for cover." Kon teased getting a giggle out of the big baby.

Before the bottle was half drained two things started to happened, the first being Bart's eye lids started to droop and he was clearly falling asleep in Kon's big strong arms.

the second and less adorable for anyone with a super sense of smell was Bart started to poot up a storm.

'can't say i'm shocked, known he had to go for awhile now.' Kon thought and just put up with the smell.

he'd put up with worse stinks on the farm between the animals and changing Lon's diapers so it wasn't like Bart could be any worse right?

with his eyelids shut tight and Kon pulling the ba-ba from the big babies mouth, moving the sleeping boy up to burp him, Kon got his answer.

Between the massive budgle that was rapidly forming in the back of Bart's diapers with a series of gross sounding farts and the stink penetrating the whole apartment.. Bart was much, much worse.

'...being a daddy isn't all fun and games.' Kon thought, wrinkling his nose.

Still he made no move to get up and change Bart, worried about waking the little guy up.

'but I'll be damned if I'm gonna like a little..ok..BIG stinky diaper stop this!'

The end

6 notes · View notes

ayankun · 3 years

Text

Got a lot done today, rewarding self with hsmtmts S1 (who am I kidding, this was going to happen regardless) just starting ep 3, thoughts that contain S2 spoilers below

It's not as awkwardly zany as I feared! I think its mockumentary style is certainly more stylized than it's become, but the jokes still land. Even though some of said jokes are based on their characters' archetypes rather than the people they're going to grow into. What can you do, it's only been an hour of runtime, everything's gonna be different by hour 10.

Gosh the kids are so young! But they're all doing so so so well. I've also now seen an hour or two of cast interviews, and the age differences of the actors is pretty wild. Like I think Frankie is one of the older ones, but for the first time I paid attention and found out Carlos is supposed to be a sophomore like Gina (but now it makes more sense that he's only just turning 16 lolololol)

I'm feeling really bad for Ricky, remembering that his home life troubles are specifically what are causing him to react and over-react and generally be a drama-maker on behalf of the plot. Like on one hand, it's such an interesting choice to have your leading man be the anti-hero of his own story, 'cause he hecks up ALL the time and is sometimes hard to root for, but taking a step back to observe that this is a fiction and everything is designed with intent, Ricky's character isn't really a hero or villain, he's a personification of a message, which is that sometimes you gotta dig deep and identify the root of your problems first before you can start applying beneficial solutions. And you might just keep hecking up until you get there. The stuff with his mom in 2x09 is sosososososo important and a long time coming, the character's going to have to be a different person going forward because he's finally been able to address some of his issues that have been festering since 1x01.

Semi-related, I'll always show up for a good redemption arc. Ricky, the hero, is going to need one! Nini might even get one (1000% I don't believe she needs one, keep self-actualizing, queen!), but anyway the S1 antagonist trio of EJ, Gina, and Mr. Mazzara is so fun/frustrating to watch, knowing that in S2 they're literally all going to become not just protagonists but also my favorite ones.

ALSO seeing evil!Gina and villainous!EJ interact keeps giving me chills. Those poor kids have NO IDEA what they're in for!!!!!

Similarly, Matt Cornett has grown on me a lot. Even first time through, I thought he was the weakest of the cast (lol he's the oldest, he's ridiculously old for that baby face) and just now in One Billion Sorrys I was like, isn't EJ supposed to be leading man material? Why is his performance so bad for comedy reasons? Oh... it's less comedy reasons and more Matt Cornett doing his best? Also why is he so white-washed this season! The makeup they've caked on him makes him look sickly. ANYWAY he's really come a long way, and especially with the stuff they've been giving him in S2, his scenes where EJ's successfully engaging with Gina as a human being are sosososo effective and I'm looking forward to getting back to that point.

Clocking some callbacks S2 has made to S1, like Kourtney talking to Nini about how she's avoiding talking to Ricky about something important and then Ricky comes up, or Nini needing to keep her phone out of the hands of her insecure clingy boyfriends so they don't jealously delete things. EDIT: just finished S1 and there was another major parallel I noticed but since noticing I have somehow forgotten :<<<<< OH COULD IT HAVE BEEN 1x08 is where Ricky and Nini rekindle things and 2x08 is where they call it quits????? (also Ricky getting earth-shattering home & family news on holidays and having to bottle it up b/c someone's on his doorstep and he has to perform Emotional Stability) (found another one, Miss Jenn's "Trust the process" vs Dean Patel's "Trust the outcome.") (Miss Jenn giving Nini a voice and YAC literally taking it away)

I guess also Ricky's mom problem and Nini's decision to put her dreams first were the inciting incidents for these two characters' arcs -- like, the narrative's inciting incident is "I think I kinda you know," and it plays out in the spaces where the Ricky/Nini romance storyline provides conflict for the success-of-the-show storyline, and vice versa, but the CHARACTERS' STORIES are about the mom thing and the dream thing, and are actually the root of all the interpersonal drama.

Not sure that I have a point, it's more of a comment of appreciation.

Another good thing about S2 is that it opens up to include more stories for the supporting cast, kinda like how HSM2 does and makes Ryan your favorite character. So even in retrospect, in S1 my faves are Gina and Mazzara and Seb & Carlos and Ashlyn, and Nini and Ricky are just Also There.

Different thought: my singular major complaint when I watched this the first time was that the show (accidentally? Due to unyielding adherence to the conventions of the genre?) uniformly conflates personal success with romantic success. As in, you know you've finally achieved your dream when you are handed a SO as a trophy. The sole SOLE exception to this in S1 is Kourtney, and look how that's played out in S2. :/ especially since one of my favorite favorite things was Start of Something New recast as Nini's romance-free self-actualization ballad, I really thought that was a premise that would make an appearance s o m e w h e r e in the show. SO IM SO HAPPY THAT'S FINALLY PAID OFF FOR NINI. LIKE IN 2x09 WHERE RICKY'S DROWNING IN HIS UNSHED TEARS AND THEN IT CUTS TO NINI SCROLLING COMMENTS IN HER INSTAGRAM HOLY SHIT. There's a read where she's the bitch or whatever for not being as broken up as Ricky is, but gurrrrrrl this has been her true character aim since day one!!! Her story is not! About! RICKY!!!!!

(I wanted my ace!Taylor HC to magically transfer into Kourtney, whose canon feminist self-affirming character core might prevent her from getting roped into a romance storyline. Like I don't want to begrudge a character a romance plot if that's what the character wants, but GOSH wouldn't it have been cool if this rom-com genre could find room to accommodate aspec stories. ALSO where my trans teens at!!! Fingers crossed, S3.)

In conclusion, I identify with Mazzara what with his autism and his robots and his AV club and his green gingham button-up that I also have; I love love love his look of consternation with himself when he sends that email. 10/10. But also, if we were in high school, I'd have been a grade ahead of his actor sooooo guess that means I'm just a crusty old grandpa

(Started writing this going into ep 3, now I'm headed into ep 6 lololol. HOMECOMING SEBLOS AND DONT WANT NO SCRUBS KOURTNEY CASTLES IN THE SKY MY BELOVEDS)

#hsmtmts #aya's hyperfixated

3 notes · View notes

writethehousedown · 4 years

Text

Lesson In Love (Gigi x Jackie) - Mina

A/N: So excited to participate in one of these challenges again, you treated me so well last time so I’m so excited to release this! Ty so so much to @dollalpaca for being an angel and betaing

Summary: Gigi may or may not be failing her music studies class. She also may or may not have caught feelings for the pretty Persian woman that offered to tutor her. Maybe. She’ll never tell.

“Janet,” Gigi groaned, narrowly avoiding falling off the couch as she rolled over and wrapped her blanket tighter around herself. It was leopard-printed, a gift from Jan to themselves from when they moved into the apartment. “Do you think ‘Intro to Floral Arrangement’ sounds like an easy class? Or do you know anyone who’s taken it?”

“Isn’t it an evening class? I feel like we went over that one like… twenty minutes ago.” The blonde hummed from the floor, not bothering to look up. She was probably right, too. She had her own laptop in front of her, in the process of color-coding her online calendar. Blue for lectures, green for labs and purple for choir practices. Gigi had seen her do this enough times - every semester since they met on move-in day their first year - to be able to recognize the blocks in her schedule at a glance. Sometimes it motivated her knowing that Jan could be so on top of things while also being the most chaotic person Gigi knew, other times it made her want to die and be reborn into someone who could organise her sock draw by diameter.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She frowned, letting out a deep sigh and closing the tab. Goodbye, department of nature studies. So long, her potential florist career.

The thing was, Gigi knew she couldn’t really afford to be particularly picky with only five days before the registration period ended, but still. At least, she thought, she’d long been enrolled in all her textile-related classes for the semester. She was looking forward to most of them too, especially the design ones. Really, it was just that one additional stupid arts gen ed course she needed to get out of the way, and then she’d be free for good.

“How about ‘Art of Listening’?” Gigi asked a few minutes later, reading over the course information. She heard the sound of Jan typing on her keyboard come to a halt. “That kinda sounds like a class for people that want to become therapists or something. Or marriage counsellors?”

“Maybe people that are gonna need marriage counselling, sure,” Jan replied, her typing picking up again.

Gigi laughed, running a hand through her hair and looking back at her screen. “It doesn’t seem too bad, y’know. Just two papers and a final.” She hummed, scrolling through last year’s syllabus. “And it’s actually about music, I could totally do that.”

“Wait, who’s the prof for it?”

“Uh… something-Nguyen I think?“ Gigi paused as she scrolled back up. “Yeah, Andrew Nguyen, why?”

“Oh, that’s the one!” Jan nodded happily. “Rock took it last semester, I think. I remember her talking about it when we first met, she was always complaining about the prof who—”

“Great, you should have just lead with that.” Gigi rolled her eyes as she closed the tab. Rock was one of the more easy going people she’d ever met when it came to that stuff, so she couldn’t imagine what a prof that annoyed her would be like. Probably awful, or at least had a bad taste in anime. A soft but slightly damp piece of fabric hit her in the nose before falling down in front of her, disheartened. She scrunched up her nose in distaste when she realised what Jan just threw at her.

“Why are you throwing your dirty socks at me?” Gigi screeched, picking it up and throwing it back in the blonde’s general direction. “And why is it wet?”

“If you’d just let me finish!” She rolled her eyes pointedly, leaning to grab the sock again. It was a little too far for her to reach, and Gigi watched her stubbornly wiggle to the side until she could close her fingers around it. She smiled victoriously, huffing a little as she leaned back against the couch and made herself stand up straight. “As I was saying,” she started again, enunciating carefully.

“Before I rudely interrupted you.” Gigi grinned down, picking at her nails.

“Yes, before you did indeed do that,” Jan huffed, “Rock took it last semester. And she was always annoyed because the prof didn’t always let them use their laptops in class, but she also said that it was really easy. Most of the time they just had to listen to some music and write about how it made them feel, that sort of stuff.”

“That sounds pretty easy.”

“Right?” Jan nodded excitedly, “And I think she mentioned one of her friends is taking it this semester too. A senior, so she’s probably in the same boat as you.”

Gigi didn’t think that’d make much of a difference, but she didn’t bother telling Jan that. It wasn’t like the class had group projects anyway, so she could hopefully get by with just showing to most lectures and turning in the assignments.

“I really should have done this over the summer, you were right about that,” she exhaled, shutting her laptop and falling back into the couch. She could have gotten those mandatory art electives outside of her major done as a freshmen, or even last year, like most other students in her program did.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,“ Jan chuckled, moving closer until she could rest her head comfortably on Gigi’s shoulder, blonde hair falling all over her face. “You’ll do great, because you always do; you’re talented, but you also work hard. So you’re gonna ace all your actual photography classes, pass this one, and be done with all your dumb degree requirements. And then next year you can take all the textiles classes you want, I’ll take all the music production classes I want, we’ll go to each other’s senior showcases, and barely even remember all the time we wasted on the ugly classes we didn’t care about.”

When Jan put it that way, it sounded pretty easy. *** After three weeks of classes, Gigi felt like she could safely conclude that the class was… Not that bad. If she had to give the class a grade it’d be a solid C-, bordering on a straight-up C. It was mostly filled with freshmen from the arts faculty trying to get an easy A, a solid half of whom had already stopped showing up to lectures. And yes, it was weird being back in a two hundred-person room when most of her other classes were forty at most. She had to turn in weekly written assignments, which was also not fun, but writing five hundred words once a week wasn’t a time commitment she couldn’t handle. The problem, though, was that as far as she could tell from those three first weeks, that supposedly-easy class would also n’ot rate the level of effort Gigi had put in as anything more than a C either. Which was definitely not what she wanted out of it. Far from it.

The class did have one major saving grace, a light in the dark and a minor help in stopping Gigi from quitting the class on day one, in the form of a fellow student.

Gigi didn’t know her name, or her major, or anything tangible about her, which was a little unfortunate. She did, however, know that the girl had legs. Long and strong, with toned thighs that suggested at least some form of semi-regular exercise, and looked equally good in the kind of wide-legged, loose cotton pants Gigi herself favoured as they did in denim cutoffs. She had really nice hands too, which the brunette found out about when they accidentally reached for the same assignment sheet. They looked soft, strong and capable and careful. They’d be nice to hold, or to have holding her down tightly, or tangled in her hair while she sucked bruises into her equally-beautiful thighs.

So yeah, you could say Gigi was kind of enjoying the course, sure.

The girl usually sat at the front of the room, in the very first row from where you kind of had to strain your neck upwards to see what was on the board. Gigi knew, because that was also where she sat during the first two weeks, until she realised this wasn’t going to be the kind of lecture where she could talk all the way through the lesson without the professor caring, not if she wanted to do more than just pass, anyway. The girl usually brought her laptop to class too - covered in political stickers and pictures of cartoons Gigi didn’t know. One time the brunette walked past her, only to see a video of a crab walking up a pile of sand playing in the corner of her screen.

Gigi could remember that she made a point about the role of music in religious movements when prompted, and how that connected to society’s idea of liveliness within places of worship. Gigi didn’t really remember the details, mostly because some of it had just flown way over her head, but their professor had been very impressed. When he had said so, instead of the self-satisfied smile that the brunette had been expecting, the girl had looked down at her notes, one arm twitching like she was resisting the urge to scratch at the back of her neck in embarrassment.

Gigi thought she’d even blushed a little, and really, no one should have had the right to be both this attractive and adorable at the same time. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about the crab video, which was definitely weird, even by art faculty standards. But for her, she thought she might be willing to overlook it.

geege ok this girl at the front of listening class? so hot she’s like 90 percent leg and 40 percent sexy aunt energy

janjanjan sounds Hot

geege i’d let her walk all over me and say ty she’d just be like :] and tell me about the periodic table or smth

janjanjan okay maybe let’s stop there like keep the rest for when you’re alone at home

geege or in the shower

janjanjan thanks not like i use that shower too The thing was, Gigi wasn’t new to having crushes. At all. So perhaps it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to herself that she ended up developing crushes on more than a few of the people she met. Most of them were great, a lot of them were cute, and a few left her heart beating that much faster as she found herself wishing for their conversations to never end.

What was new (or disconcerting, if she were to listen to the Jan voice in her head), was Gigi feeling that way about someone she’d never talked to. Gigi still didn’t know anything about her, other than what she looked like and the sound of her voice - but god did she want to know.

And it felt like it’d been years, so many years, since Gigi had felt too shy to just go up to someone she wanted to know better and introduce herself. She’d felt anxious before, maybe a little self-conscious, but not the kind of shyness that turned into complete inaction. She found herself looking forward to the class, though not the actual work. *** She, Gigi thought, was currently winning at life.

She was done with classes for the week, had no plans that required her to get out of her sweatpants for the next twenty four hours, and was currently sitting back on the couch surrounded by food and two of her favourite people.

So yeah, life was pretty fucking great right now.

She leaned back against one arm of the sofa, a forgotten ball of yarn and half knitted almost-scarf in one hand and the other casually playing with Jan’s hair. The blonde was laying down on the couch, the only one out of the three of them that could kind of do so without most of her legs hanging off one end. Her head was resting on Gigi’s lap while her feet were in Rock’s.

Friday evening was their unofficially -designated group hang out time, a tradition that developed the last few months without any of them being aware of it, but now it was something that she wouldn’t miss for the world. It usually just meant Thai food, bitching about their classes, and whatever booze one of the other two decided to pick up. When Rock made grabby hands at her, Gigi grabbed an unopened can of sparkling water she brought for today and passed it on.

“Thank you,” Rock chuckled as she cracked it open, leaning forward to catch some of the foam that came out before it had a chance to further stain the couch. “Y’know,” she started, as she watched Gigi reach over for the mostly-empty bag of popcorn on the table. “I could just ask Jackie to help you out with the class.”

The brunette’s fingers closed on thin air, the bag of popcorn she was aiming for remaining just out of reach. “Who’s Jackie?” she asked absently, shuffling forward gently and trying not to dislodge Jan’s head from her lap.

Jan flicked her on the thigh regardless. “Rock’s friend, the one I told you about when you signed up! And, y’know, the one that’s also taking the class right now.”

“Oh,” Gigi realised. She totally remembered that, right. Her fingers grazed the bag of popcorn again, but in her haste she just ended up pushing it a few inches further away, balancing precariously on one edge of the table. “That Jackie.”

“I think she tutored, like, half her contemporary fiction class last year. So you know she’s gotta be good at actually teaching things, and not just smart,” Jan continued, as though Gigi’s attention was mostly captured by the pursuit of academics. One more inch, she leaned in a little further, balancing her weight on one arm. She just needed to get one inch closer and the bag would be hers. She could already taste the powdery, buttery, amazingness on her tongue.

“And Rockie’s always talking about how her old professor still basically cries about not being able to convince her to stay in the department. I’m pretty sure she’d totally still take him on as a grad student if Jackie just asked, nevermind that she transferred out more than two years ago.”

“So what do you think?” The blonde finished, a little more loudly, like she realised Gigi had tuned her out a bit. And Gigi had, yes, but she could finally feel her fingers closing in on the bag, triumphantly reaching in and stuffing a handful of popcorn - fat free - into her mouth. “Do you want Rock to ask Jackie when she has some time to meet up with you? Or maybe just give her your number, if that’s easier?”

“What? No, don’t do that. I’m not doing that bad.” Gigi laughed slightly, rolling her eyes. “No, I’m all good.”

“It’s too late anyway,” Rock laughed, all faux-casual. “I already messaged her.” She shoved her phone in front of Gigi’s face, and yeah, right there, that was a message saying just that, complete with her own number at the end.

“Why would you do that?” She complained loudly, tapping at the screen furiously to try and make it delete. It wasn’t that she was against the idea of getting help with the class, but mostly she was reluctant to have it taking up more of her time than it already did. Especially when she didn’t even know the girl.

“You need help!” Rock said with a yelp, avoiding the kick Gigi aimed at her. “She can help! It’s a perfect solution, why are you trying to hit me!” The last one landed just under her armpit, drawing out a higher-pitched squeal. “Besides, Jan agreed with me that it’s a good idea,” she added, turning expectantly towards her. “Tell her how you were the first one to even suggest it.”

Next to them, Jan had indeed been suspiciously quiet. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” Gigi asked, poking the older woman in the chest.

“Don’t you want to see what your soon-to-be tutor looks like, Geege?” Jan giggled, ignoring her question.

“Oh, you’re right, let me show you her insta,” Rock butted in, her thumbs moving on her phone screen for a moment before handing it to Gigi with an evil smile.

Jacqueline Coxx, the profile read, next to a very familiar, grinning face. The same very familiar, grinning face that Gigi had spent many a lesson fawning over. This had to be a mistake, there was no way. “You should really be better at Instagram-stalking people,” Jan laughed as Gigi felt her mind going blank. “I think it’s the only skill that’s going to save our generation from lifelong unemployment. Or underemployment, for that matter.”

The brunette didn’t give it a second thought before she pushed her off the couch and onto the floor, screams of unacceptable betrayal and terrified excitement echoing loud in the room.

*** geege hiiiii is this jackie cox? this is gigi, roxanne’s friend from the listening class she said she’d told you i would message you geege but in case she didn’t i wanted to ask you about some tutoring if you could tutor me i mean geege but if you can’t that’s all good !! don’t feel like you have to say yes just bc of rocks stupid puppy eyes oh and sorry about the triple-text ***

“I more than triple-texted her, but three separate times,” Gigi groaned, burying her face in between the couch cushions.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Jan comforted, running a hand through her hair. Gigi would maybe feel a little bad about how much complaining she’d been doing over this, but everytime she thought of stopping, she reminded herself that Jan was at least forty-five percent to blame for this in the first place.

“It’s been more than two days. When’s the last time you went forty-eight hours without checking your phone? And be honest.”

Jan’s silence was enough of an answer. *** Jackie Hey Gigi! Rock did tell me about you, it’s all good Do you want to meet up after class on monday to figure out the details? Oh and sorry for such a late reply My phone was broken after i dropped it in a lake while i was hiking *** In an ideal world, Gigi would have planned things so she could get to class nice and early on the day she was supposed to properly meet Jackie. She’d have maybe put a little more thought than usual into her outfit, and made sure her hair looked good. Worn that red headband she knew did great things for her forehead and her eyebrows, maybe. Not that Gigi ever looked like a slob, but she definitely had clothes she liked more than others, and that she thought served her better for seduction purposes. Or even for just ‘making a decent first impression’, which she’d really settle for right now, as she ran up the final flight of stairs. Nothing said ‘I’m serious about needing help with this class’ like showing up late, especially for a course where attendance was actually recorded.

She spotted the door to the classroom still cracked open at the end of the hallway and slowed down a little, trying to catch her breath. She ran a hand through her hair, hoping that’d tame the mess a little and her cheeks wouldn’t be too red from the unexpected burst of athleticism. At the front of the room, their professor has already started talking, and Gigi quietly slipped into the first free seat she spotted, grateful to have avoided drawing everyone’s attention to herself.

It was only minutes before the class ended that Gigi thought to look around for Jackie, peering across the middle rows of students before she accepted that she wouldn’t dare sit anywhere but the very front row. She tried to lean forward to glance at the first row once or twice, eventually accepting that there was no way she could be subtle and standing the slightest bit up from her chair. The first row was mostly empty, as it usually tended to be. Gigi recognized a girl from the Image Composition class she took last semester, and thought about saying hi to her after class when she remembered she had a goal here. As she let her gaze move through the other students in the front, it eventually landed on Jackie, although Gigi had to do a double-take to make sure it was definitely her.

The thing was, she’d gotten to see - unknowingly, at the time - Jackie often enough since the semester started to get a sense of her style. And from Gigi’s weeks of casual observation, she tended to favour loose, comfortable clothes, and mostly neutral colours. She liked floral patterns too, especially on shirts, which the brunette could appreciate.

However, the first thing she noticed today was Jackie’s hair. And really, Gigi thought that if it wasn’t for the bright smile and the longest legs known to humankind, she wouldn’t have even recognized her.

The messy dark brown hair that Gigi had gotten used to, and maybe dreamt about running her hands through once or twice, was now four inches shorter and numbingly straight, effortlessly falling over her forehead and almost into her eyes when she looked down. Something about the flawlessness of her hair combined with the white hoodie she was wearing seemed to make her face glow, skin tanned and radiant with pearly teeth glinting through a bemused grin as she laughed at something her friend was saying.

Damn.

She was brought out of her daydreaming by the sound of students around her packing up their things, and Gigi realised that she most likely missed the professor dismissing their class. As she struggled with the zipper of her bag, the same one she’d been meaning to get fixed for the last three months but still hadn’t, she felt a hand hesitantly tap on her shoulder, warm against the thin material of her shirt.

“Hey, Georgia right?” A voice asked right behind her, and when Gigi turned around Jackie looked just as good as she did the first time she saw her at the beginning of the semester.

“Gigi. I’m— my name— Yep, hi, that’s me. What’s shaking?” The brunette chuckled awkwardly, “Thank you so much for agreeing to help me out, I really appreciate it! Or at least agreeing to consider it I mean, I know we really just said we’d talk about the details today, so you technically haven’t agreed to anything yet. And you don’t have to, obviously.”

Jackie didn’t seem thrown off by the sudden explosion of words and gratefulness, which Gigi took to be a good sign. If anything, her smile only grew less hesitant, the tiniest dimple appearing on her left cheek.

“We could, like, go to that library around the block? It’s a nice place to study, so.” Gigi nodded, following Jackie and making awkward small talk until they made it inside. She learned in those quick minutes that Jackie liked crabs, and geography, and obscure movie references no one else understood.

“It’s been a while since I was here to be honest.” Jackie grinned, swiping at her phone casually. “I missed it.”

"Right, Rock mentioned you’d transferred out of the faculty.”

The brunette hummed in agreement, looking a little surprised at Gigi’s knowing about this. “Yeah, I swapped my major and minor back halfway through my second year. Geo major with a minor in stage production now.” She made little jazz hand motions as she said it, and the brunette really wished she didn’t find it half as endearing as she did.

“Okay, so, tell me more about what you’ve been struggling with so far,” Jackie asked with a tilt of her head, and they got down to business. *** Maybe it was a little self-sabotaging (or self-serving, she could never quite decide), but part of what Gigi quickly found out she liked best about their bi-weekly tutoring sessions, was how much time she got to just stare at Jackie. She’d finish writing up the draft of her weekly listening assignment and pass it on for the older woman to read over, and get a solid five-to-ten minutes of ogling out of it.

Not that she was ogling her per se, that sounded bad. She was just… appreciating. Appreciating Jackie’s arms, and her neck, and her cheekbones, and her brain as she read through Gigi’s outline. Every now and then, Gigi would catch her frowning slightly, bringing her pen to the paper and tapping over the words as she read a section a few times over before making a quick note and moving on. It was kind of embarrassing how devastatingly cute Gigi found the whole thing, honestly. Like how the way she was resting her head on one hand, her fingers accidentally creating a gap that just perfectly framed the dimple on her left cheek.

“Hey, Geege,” Jackie suddenly smiled as she turned towards her. Fuck. Gigi really hoped her face wasn’t making what she was just doing incredibly obvious. “What did you have in mind for this part here?” She asked, shuffling her chair to bridge the space between the two of them.

“Which part?” Gigi shakily replied, leaning in a little. The paper she wrote her outline on was on the table, technically close enough for both of them to read, but just barely. Gigi told herself that was her excuse for moving in a few inches more, until their hands were almost meeting on the sheet of paper. Almost.

Jackie was making it hard for Gigi to focus, leaving her stumbling through the start of an explanation of the admittedly somewhat unclear point she’d made in her outline about the sudden change in rhythm. As she got into the meat of her point, she could feel herself getting more confidence, gesturing with her hands as the words started coming out more easily, and Jackie nodded in wordless understanding. It only took a few sessions to realize that if there was one thing Jackie was good at, it’s listening. It never felt like she was trying to put answers into Gigi’s mouth - letting her explain her perception of the music instead, and asking questions when needed. She made Gigi feel like even if writing about how she experienced music as an art form would never come all that naturally to her, not in the way sewing or even most visual arts did, it was something that was still within her reach. Something she could understand and relate to.

“So, are you saying it felt expected to you?” Jackie asked eventually, after Gigi paused. “Like it was building up to this in the previous parts? Or that it caught your attention specifically because it was sudden? Or out-of-place, maybe.”

The brunette took a moment to think, replaying the lead-up to that section in her head.

They weren’t even touching, but she could feel the heat radiating off the older woman’s skin. She could feel the warmth, could see it in Jackie’s gaze as she looked softly back at her, she could smell it even. And Gigi knows that didn’t actually make sense, that all she was probably smelling was laundry detergent and sweat and maybe coffee. Gigi didn’t even like the smell of coffee. But right now, sitting side-by-side in the library and alternating between emphatically talking and listening to each other, Gigi felt like all of those things.

It was only when they both moved on from that particular point, a few messy notes from Jackie hastily written to Gigi’s own words, that she realized just how close they’d gotten. She was well into Jackie’s personal space, their shoulders no longer content just brushing against each other occasionally but rather aligned against one another. No wonder she could smell the coffee.

She started to move back slowly, not wanting to draw attention to how close she’d gotten, but a sharp sting on her ear stopped her mid-motion. She let out a small cry of pain, Jackie immediately turning to face her. The older girl felt impossibly closer than a moment ago.

“I think my earring got caught in your shirt,” Gigi said quietly, a pained and nervous giggle leaping from the back of her throat. She remembered putting them on this morning, long and dangly strips of silver shaped like eyes, and thinking about how they might get stuck in her hair. If the lack of distance between the two of them went unnoticed earlier, it was definitely no longer the case. Gigi felt incredibly conscious of every exhale of her breath, of Jackie’s face only inches away from hers. The guy in the seat in front of them threw them a dirty look, like he was annoyed at how wrong Gigi’s flirting attempts had turned out. She couldn’t really blame him because, what the fuck, they had turned out pretty bad, huh.

“Hold on,” Jackie breathed, “let me untangle it for you.” Gigi knew she was speaking quietly because they were in a library, and so close to each other anything above a whisper was unnecessary, but she was struck hard by the intimacy of it nonetheless. She couldn’t decipher whether choosing to wear those earrings today was the best or worst decision she’d ever made.

Jackie reached for the end that got caught, carefully lifting it away from the threads of her sweater. It was the kind of tangle no one could probably ever manage to achieve if they tried, and yet happened without either of them realizing it. When she moved to grasp at the fabric a little more firmly, her fingers brushed against Gigi’s neck, unexpected. And maybe it’s stupid to feel so thoroughly destabilized by the mere touch of a fleeting hand, but Gigi found herself forgetting to breathe for a few seconds.

“There,” Jackie chuckled as the earring finally came free, looking in Gigi’s direction without directly meeting her gaze. “I think you’re all good now.”

Gigi thanked her politely, but she’d be the first to admit she found it hard to focus during the rest of their session, every brush of air or clothing against her neck making her shiver at the memory of Jackie’s fingers. ***

“Wait, Jackie Coxx?” Crystal asked the next time Gigi met up with her to catch up over some drinks in their favorite dive bar. Crystal had technically been Jan’s friend first, but she and Gigi had gotten a lot closer over the years, bonding over a love of what their friends would lovingly call ‘loud’ and ‘confident’ clothing choices. “‘Trips on her own feet’ Jackie Coxx?” Crystal continued, the grin on her face widening as Gigi felt her cheeks heating up. “Follows at least three Twitter accounts dedicated to Star Trek? Rockie’s junior year baby crush? The same—”

“Rock is still a junior, Crys,” Gigi interrupted, laughing, because— what. What. “And wait, she has a crush on Jackie? My Jackie?”

“So not the point,” Crystal answered, still smiling like this was the best news she’d heard all week. “My Jackie huh? God, you’re such a simp—”

“No.” Gigi groaned, dragging out the ‘o’. “Back to Rock. My best friend, Janet fucking Sport, is head over heels, stupidly in love with Rock. And I don’t care how adorable she is, if what you’re telling me is true, she’s just been… been using her! And that really this whole time she’s just been waiting and pining for Jackie! As if Jan didn’t—”

It was Crystal’s turn to interrupt this time, the smile having faded away from her face to leave way for a confused expression. “Gigi, Gigi, stop for a second,” she repeated, a little more forceful than the brunette was used to hearing her speak. “Come on, think of all the time you’ve spent with Rock, with both of them. Have you ever gotten the impression that she was anything that a hundred and ten percent in?”

The brunette closed her eyes for a moment. She thought of Jan ditching her and Nicky to go hang out with Rock every Friday. Of Jan dragging her to go shopping on the weekend before Valentine’s day, an itemized and color-coded list of stores and potential gifts saved on her phone. Crystal definitely has a point, Gigi let herself recognize, deflating as the potential anger left her body as quickly as it had arrived.

“Rock did a tour of the university, back when she was still in high school and she wasn’t completely sure what program to apply for. Jackie was the one doing it apparently.” The red head paused to take a sip of her drink, grimacing a little at the taste. Why she kept ordering those novelty IPAs everywhere they went despite knowing full well she didn’t like how hoppy they were, Gigi had no idea. “I think she just made Rock feel comfortable, you know? Like, it was fine that she didn’t have everything figured out already, and made sure she knew she wasn’t making a decision at seventeen that she could never walk back. So Jackie gave her her number in case she had any questions, and then they actually started hanging out together once Rock started this year.”

“Oh,” Gigi realised, “that does really sound like her, yeah.” She could imagine it in her head, Rock a little younger and more unsure, not all that dissimilar from how she behaved when Jan first introduced the two of them to each other.

It was strange, remembering that a few months ago she would avoid directly meeting her gaze or spending any one-on-one time with her, when she could also recall the ‘u up’ and ‘netflix? :)’ texts she received from the shorter woman last night. It also really sounded like Jackie, although she didn’t tell Crystal so. It was just as easy to imagine her taking the time to reassure a worried high-school student without making her feel like she was being talked down to.

Crystal was still looking at her expectantly, and Gigi couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed at how strongly she reacted. “So, not an actual crush then?”

“Nope, she just thinks Jackie is really cool. God knows why, because based on what I’ve heard, she’s kind of a giant dork.”

“Hot giant dork.” Gigi rolled her eyes. “Maybe I should have asked you that first.”

“Uh-huh,” Crystal replied, giving Gigi’s shoulder a squeeze. “You should ask her for the full story, actually. I’m surprised you haven’t heard it before, but she tells it much better than I do. And maybe you want to spend some time thinking about why you reacted that quickly, because we both know Jan is a pretty flimsy excuse.”

The brunette sighed loudly. “It’s just a crush, it’s nothing.” It didn’t sound convincing even to herself. Back when Jackie was just the hot girl in her class, that would have probably been true, but it felt like a long time ago now.

Crystal rolled her eyes with a cheeky smile. “That was a lot more believable five minutes ago, but sure.”

Gigi made sure to hit her in the leg for that, laughing easily and sputtering mindlessly about how she had it all wrong.

“Wait, what did Rock used to want to study, back when she was in high school?”

There was a long pause, before Crystal finally cackled., “Video game design.” *** geege do you think it’s weird

rockstar YES

geege … to ask someone if you can platonically caress their cheeks kiss them on the forehead at least wait till i finish to be mean

rockstar u know what this is both not as weird AND weirder than i expected ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

geege what do I do roxanne she’s not gonna tutor me forever. the final is less than a month away how do i tell her i wanna date her without seeming like i wanna date her

rockstar go up to her and be like ‘if we played pokemon together, we’d be a pokematch’ ;)))

geege what

rockstar will you be the nidoking to my nidoqueen

geege tf those sound like the names of drugs

rockstar yk it was one thing when you were just thirsting after the hot girl in ur class but now it’s actual feelings how embarrassing

geege u have given me a solid amount of advice. none.

rockstar k fair how about i pick up noodles on my way back? and we can eat that for dinner while you tell me all about ur gay crush without my consent

geege i like the chicken stir fry ones

*** “Do you want to listen to it again, maybe?” Jackie asked, reaching for her headphones. “Then you can tell me the exact part you’re thinking of.”

It was another Wednesday afternoon, but this time they’d ditched the library in favor of a small coffee shop that was closer to where Jackie lived. It was artsy in a way that Gigi was used to, a little hipster, but not actually fancy enough to properly lay claim on the word. The tables were a little worn in and wobbly, the lattes a little too cheap, and the art prints on the wall either too well-known or not enough.

“Sure, just give me a second.” Gigi took the earbud the Persian woman offered her, making an aborted motion towards the computer, before following through as Jackie nodded at her with a soft smile. The older woman’s phone vibrated on the table between them, and she took a quick glance at the screen before putting it back down with a little more force than necessary.

It took Gigi a few tries to find the part she had in mind when mentioning texture, replaying the same part a few times over until she was fairly certain she found what she was looking for. “That part here, until the tempo slows down again—”

The brunette was cut off by the sound of Jackie’s phone vibrating on the table again, lighting up with a missed call notification and some texts.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” the Persian woman cursed sheepishly. “This is so rude. I’m sorry, Geege, I should have just turned it off earlier.” She sounded a little annoyed, but mostly flustered, taking a quick look at the screen before flipping it back over facing down.

She flashed the younger woman an apologetic smile, her cheeks coloring a little as she pointedly pushed the phone away from her.

“Are you sure everything is okay? We can take a break if you need to deal with some stuff? Or even just cancel for today, I think I have basically everything I need to finish writing this up, so.”

“No, no, âsemun be zamin nemiyâd,” Jackie protested, mind clearly elsewhere. “It’s nothing, really. Or, well, it is something I guess, but it’s kind of stupid and I shouldn’t let it distract me, you know?”

Gigi hummed noncommittally, not wanting to force her to talk about whatever this was if she didn’t want to, but finding herself unwilling to acknowledge it as something stupid either. She offered Jackie what she hoped was a quick and comforting smile instead.

“I just…” She sighed, rubbing at her eyes with the heel of her palm. “I’ve been waiting to hear back from this prof about a recommendation letter for grad school? And she’d said yes before, but some more students asked her, and she has this thing about not writing more than five letters per year, I don’t know. So she said she’d get back to me today or tomorrow to confirm, and I’ve just been really stressed.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. That sounds really stressful.” Gigi brought a hand to Jackie’s shoulders, squeezing the back of her neck lightly. She tried to avoid doing too much extensive thinking about what she might do after college, but she doubted it was a train of thought that’d ever made anyone feel good.

“It’s okay, I should be used to it.” Jackie shrugged with resignation. “It’s just that every time I remember I’m waiting to hear back from her it makes me think of next year, and what’ll happen if I don’t get in? Or if I do, because it’s like I really know that grad school is what I want to do, you know?” She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, and Gigi really wished they were close enough friends for her to offer Jackie a hug or something.

“Just call your prof back now. You should have said something earlier, and we could have rescheduled.”

“Oh,” Jackie breathed out, sounding inexplicably surprised as she turned towards her. “No, no, no, no, that’s not necessary. That wasn’t her. I’m sorry I’m a bit of a mess today, let’s just get back to this thing, yeah?”

Gigi nodded, reaching for the headphones and passing one on to her. In a lot of ways, this had grown to be her favorite part of their sessions. Not that she didn’t enjoy listening to Jackie talk about music, which she did; mostly because she was practically tone deaf and found it magical that Jackie was so good at it, or trading ideas back and forth on the pieces they listened to, both of which were rewarding in their own ways. But there was something about sitting next to each other, silent save for the shared music, that just got to her.

They were standing outside the coffeeshop, Jackie struggling to undo the lock on her bike, when Gigi thought back to their earlier conversation. “I know it’s not the same because I’m not graduating yet, but you know I’m here if you ever need to talk to someone, right? Like, no pressure or anything, but I just— just wanted to put it out there, I guess.”

Jackie stopped mid-motion and looked up at her, half of her U-lock in hand. “Thanks, Gigi.” She grinned, all bright and pearly and warm. “I think sometimes I just get too in my own head, you know? Especially about things I can’t do anything about. And yes, I know how stupid it is to stress out over these things so much, I really do.”

“I don’t think that’s stupid, though,” Gigi mentioned, as they started walking towards her bus stop. It was really nice of Jackie to walk there with her, rather than just take off on her bike straight away. It maybe made sense now that they knew each other well enough, but her heart still kind of fluttered whenever she offered it. “I mean, maybe it’s not productive because you’re worrying about things you can’t control, sure, but it also means you care, right? And I don’t think that’s something stupid, even if you wish you could just… not care less, but care better, you know. Still care, but in a way that’s better for yourself. To yourself.”

She thought of her parents, and of the guilt she used to feel every time she overheard someone asking them if they really thought it was wise to let her go to college for fashion, how she overworked herself to the point of passing out alone in the studio her freshman year in a misguided attempt to redeem herself from having failed a class. Like she thought she could atone for her perceived academic failures by working her body into the ground. She thought of the conversations that had started to happen in her periphery, whispers of ‘What are you thinking of doing after next year?’, ‘Have you also applied for the internship at this gallery?’, ‘Have you considered doing a minor in business?’, and how she sometimes struggled with not letting these thoughts invade her brain late at night.

“I just think it’s hard sometimes, but it’s even harder if we don’t let ourselves accept it. Or talk about it. So I guess all I’m saying is that if you need someone to listen, you know where to find me,” she finished with a deep breath.

When she looked up, there was a quiet smile on Jackie’s face, and Gigi felt warm at the thought of maybe having been the one to put it there. ***

geege you know i suddenly understand why you do the shoulder thing like i use to never really get it but that was before

janjanjan the shoulder thing??

geege wait more important how did ur audition go did they love you when are you gonna hear back

janjanjan it went pretty okay i think they’re def looking more for someone that does modern

geege so that’s good! very good!!!

janjanjan and one of the choreographers sort of smiled and nodded at me at the end i think he was on the dance team my first semester but that was before he graduated ig anyway idk maybe it was just in my head

geege no but that all sounds really good!!! look at u go diva!

janjanjan gigi just finished twenty minutes ago she was wearing this stupid ass shirt a really loose tank bc it’s been hot af and one of the straps kept falling of her shoulder

janjanjan oooooooooh oh no that shoulder thing

geege i saw collarbone and so much shoulder and upper arm

janjanjan how tragic tell me, did she lift it back up

geege yeah but it kept falling back down

janjanjan that’s rly good though!!!

geege no it was torture did you know she has a mole on her shoulder? right at the top and all i kept thinking of was that i wanted to kiss it

janjanjan cute also i don’t know how to tell you this but that shit doesn’t happen by itself

geege well it’s not like it was her fault

janjanjan listen a shirt can be a too big sure but you still kind of have to make it happen it doesn’t magically keep falling off

geege hm

janjanjan believe me i would know *** No matter how much she tried to forget about it, Gigi’s last session with Jackie was a thing that was very much happening right now.

It was strange, thinking back to the beginning of the semester, how she almost didn’t sign up for the class. How she maybe would have never met Jackie if she hadn’t, or maybe would have just pined from afar without ever learning her name were it not for her meddling friends. She found herself spending the last half of their session wondering more about how to casually ask Jackie if they’d still hang out once finals are over. Or if their semester-long friendship was, well, just that.

In the end, she just blurted it out as they packed up their things, subtlety thrown out the window.

“I mean, you’re friends with Rock, so I’m sure I’ll at least see you around, yeah?”

Jackie only hummed noncommittally in reply. She was busy packing her things back into her khaki tote bag, checking each pocket like she was looking for something. It reminded Gigi of what she used to do in middle school, every time she hadn’t done the homework or just really, really, really didn’t want to be the one called on to explain her work in front of the whole class. She’d just lean down, and start searching through her bag very obviously, making a show of opening every zipper, her head almost disappearing inside it if she could manage.

“Do you, like, need help finding something in there?” She asked, her voice coming out more harsh than she’d intended, just as Jackie seemed to decide she’d found what she was looking for and decisively slung her bag back over her shoulder.

“Sorry, I— it was—” she stopped and started, letting out a resigned sigh and shaking her head at herself. It made Gigi want to cringe. “Yeah, I’m good now, and yeah, I’ll still see you around. At least for the summer, but after that too I hope! I mean, I’ll still be around and you’ll be around too, so, y’know…” she trailed off. Her cheeks were tinged pink, just barely. Her ears, too, or maybe it was just the white of her sweater making everything appear brighter in contrast. “Besides, you still haven’t shown me any of your work, and you promised you would.” She was right about that, Gigi knew. She usually wasn’t shy about showing her designs to other people, but somehow she’d found himself unsure of what to show Jackie first.

She settled her bag on one shoulder, and they started making their way out in companionable silence until Jackie spoke again. “Hey, actually, do you maybe want to grab coffee before heading back? I have a bit of time before my next class and I could use a pick-me-up.”

They ended up just stopping by Starbucks, because it was on their way and surprisingly empty for a Thursday afternoon on campus. Gigi got a mocha frappuccino (almond milk, extra whip) and managed to sneak in Jackie’s usual cold brew order before she had the chance to protest.

“Gigi…” She sighed fondly, kind of like a grandma would when her grandchildren were doing something they’d regret. She was shaking her head in resignation, which Gigi took as a sign that she’d decided to leave it at that.

“No, I’ve been stealing almost three hours of your time every week since almost the start of the semester and—”

“How can that even be true when Rock only introduced us in what, February?” Jackie laughed in protest, reaching out to grab her drink from the brunette’s hand.

“No, not the point!” Gigi replied, moving her arm back until the cup was just out of Jackie’s reach. “You’ve given up a lot of your free time for me, is what I’m saying. And you didn’t even really know me, I could’ve been a total freak.”

Jackie opened her mouth and looked like she was about to say something, but Gigi continued before she had the chance.

“And you were so nice about it. Not ‘nice’ like when you have nothing actually all that good or specific to say. But nice in that you never made me feel like I was being stupid, you know? And you actually took the time to explain things to me so I’d understand them, not just the bare minimum so I could pass. You did all that when you didn’t really have to, so that meant a lot. Means a lot. I enjoyed spending that time with you, and not because it means I’m going to pass the class.”

Gigi forced herself to stop there, even though she knew for a fact that she could’ve easily kept going. She could feel her words coming out a little rambly, probably sounding more confusing than appreciative. At least she hoped that was what they sounded like, because the only other alternative was frightening. The idea that Jackie was in fact hearing everything Gigi was saying, her poor attempt at expressing the warmth she had felt growing inside her all semester long every time she was beside her, was infinitely more terrifying.

“Geege.” Jackie looked away, smiling after a moment, looking a little embarrassed. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Gigi could feel her cheeks getting hot, but when she looked up she could see that Jackie’s cheeks were tinged pink, too. It was almost funny, feeling what she felt and seeing the physical reflection of it not on herself, but on the person causing it. She wanted to reach out and let the tip of her fingers brush against Jackie’s cheeks, to see if they felt as warm as her own face did.

“You don’t have to say anything, I wasn’t trying to, like, I don’t know, get anything. I just wanted you to know what I meant, and that I really did mean it, when I was saying thank you.”

Gigi was laid bare, like her body was nothing but a lens, and behind it were all of her feelings jumbled together in a tangled mess, conclusion still very plain to the eye.

It was a surprise, when Jackie stepped forward and kissed her.

Gigi closed her eyes reflexively, but she could feel herself inhaling sharply, her body failing to catch up with what her brain was also struggling to process. When she eventually kissed back, it was only because she could feel Jackie’s body starting to move away, the fear finally pushing her into action. She brought one hand up, resting it on the side of the older woman’s neck, fingers gently brushing against her hair as she kissed back a little more confident. She could feel Jackie’s hand on her waist, warm and solid. Her grip tightened slightly as they separated, not strong enough to keep Gigi anywhere but a reassurance of where she was wanted.

Neither one of them really stepped back when the kiss ended, just stayed standing right in front of each other, breathing the same air. She heard Jackie swallow, loud in the silence of their shared space. She licked her lips, a reflex she didn’t even think about, and it was like the realization that, oh my god, they just kissed, hit her all over again when she found them wet. She suppressed a small shudder, although she wasn’t sure how successfully.

It was Jackie that finally broke the silence and stepped away from her, letting her hand fall away from Gigi’s side, brushing against her wrist and then gone before she had a chance to realize it.

“I,” Jackie breathed, “I’ve wanted to do this for a really long time, Gigi.” She laughed a little, maybe a bit self-conscious, and that was what brought the younger woman out of it.

“I spent hours talking to Jan about this gorgeous girl in my listening class,” she started, words leaving her mouth almost of their own volition. “How I didn’t even know her name but god, I really wish I did. Then I did know, even if I didn’t realize that you were, you know, you, when Rock said he knew someone who could tutor me. And then you were there and still the same person, but also so nice and understanding and just… good? Like, being around you just felt good.”

She paused, forcing herself to meet Jackie’s eyes again. “And I still mean everything I said earlier too, you know. Even if you weren’t interested in me, that’s not why I was saying it, but I still mean it just as much now.”

“Oh.” Jackie’s mouth was gaping so wide Gigi was worried it might actually fall to the floor. Maybe if Gigi were a different person, or if her brain wasn’t currently busy processing and reprocessing their kiss on an endless loop, she would have felt a little self-conscious at her outburst, but that just wasn’t who she was.

Especially not right now. Not when Jackie’s lips were right in front of her, still a little wet, still a little too red.

“That’s, that’s pretty good, then,” she finished quietly. They looked at each other in silence for a moment, only interrupted when Gigi let out a small snort.She couldn’t help but realise they were kind of ridiculous. Her face was taken over by an unashamedly stupidly large grin. Jackie properly stepped back then, far enough that Gigi could no longer feel the warmth of her body. She missed it immediately.

“I really need to get to my next class.” Jackie rolled her eyes. “So I can talk to the prof about her feedback on my draft first, but text me, yeah? I know it’s really shitty timing because we both have finals to take and papers to write, but I’ll make it work. Or I’ll call you, if that’s better? But I’m not running away, I promise.”

Gigi flashed her a bright smile and nodded in understanding. “I have your number too, y’know, so maybe I’ll just be the one to text you.”

“Okay, great, nice.” Jackie replied. She had her bag and coffee in hand, but made no clear motion to leave, kind of like she was worried if she did Gigi might disappear forever. It was so, incredibly, frustratingly cute and Gigi couldn’t help but wonder if Jackie would mind being kissed on the forehead.

“Jacks, it’s fine.” Gigi grinned. “I need to go too, anyway. Just maybe don’t drop your phone in any lake before you text me back this time, yeah?”

She turned away with a laugh of her own this time, and Gigi sipped through the plastic straw like it did anything to hide the smile on her face as she watched Jackie walk away.

“Wait!”

The Persian woman startled, turning back to her with an unsure smile. “What, did you forget something, Geege?”

“My first final is tomorrow,” Gigi said, looking up at Jackie with glinting eyes. “And it’s my first actual written exam this year, because I didn’t have any midterms, so how about another kiss for good luck, huh?”

Gigi’s cheeks ached from the force of her smile as she watched the uncertainty leave Jackie’s face, only to be replaced by a raised eyebrow and deep smile. Her shoulder’s rose slightly, like her instincts were telling her to hide her face in embarrassment at the cheesiness, but her eyes didn’t leave Gigi’s anyway. They didn’t leave Gigi’s, until they closed and their lips met again, and the younger woman thought it felt like more luck than she thought she had the right to ask for.

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi goode #jackie cox #rock m sakura #Jan Sport #Crystal Methyd #gigi goode/jackie cox #jan sport/rock m sakura #jiji #jock #lesson in love #mina #lesbian au #back to school 2020 #day 4: lesson #submission

27 notes · View notes