#i just came back to my laptop after like 3 hours of spring cleaning and i found out i did not post this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dzpenumbra · 1 year

Text

3/18/23

Again, I'm avoiding this.

I'm just fed up.

This hellish cycle just won't end.

I started today on a good foot, I really did. I struggled a bit with yoga, but I pushed myself and got there. I got a phone call halfway through meditating, and I tuned it out and kept going. I went to the package room before even showering (that's a big push outside my comfort zone social anxiety-wise) to get my new fabric inks. I had a plan, I had tools, I had momentum.

I had 5 things on my goals list for today - check on the art supply delivery (check), desire path concept prototype (check), clean art station a bit (nope), water orchid (nope). At this point in the day, I had gotten exactly one thing on that list done. I had briefly started to throw together an idea for the prototype, I'll get into that later so I can wrap this up on a positive note.

The call while I was meditating was my mom. Let me just preface what's to come by stating the obvious here. I have been extremely stressed out lately, which I think is pretty obvious in my writing, especially when compared to my writing from around when I started this blog. I am very on-edge. I have no incoming sources of positivity, hope, optimism, etc... so I have to generate it myself. I'm grieving, and it's hitting me harder than I expected, in ways I wasn't expecting, too. Like... my left eye has been twitching for a fucking month now. I'm just... I can spiral into stress and frustration very quickly. And I'm really tired of holding back that wall every day, honestly. I kinda want to get that frustration and stress out of my system, not bottle it up.

My mom asked me how I was doing. I made it very clear that I was struggling. Despite my day being fine so far... my mind went immediately to the day before. The list I posted here. The mic problem with the art stream setup. The audio routing issues with music streaming. It came flooding back instantly, and my mood followed. This was my only opportunity to speak to another person who was presenting themselves in a supportive role. I communicated the struggles I was having as much as I could, but I really wasn't getting many questions, much engagement. I just... didn't understand why she couldn't comprehend the problem. In my head, I spelled it out perfectly. "I have two desks now. The mic arm is like 2.5 feet long. The desk is like... 6 feet long. The mic functions best directionally, and... can't rotate because of that, because the shock mount doesn't work that way." I tried to appeal to the frustration of having to unhook my mic, unfasten my mic stand clamp, move it to the other desk and reset it... every time I want to switch between gaming and art streams. And I was planning on doing this... at least one stream switch a day... so... likely two mic swaps per day, every day that I stream. It's fucking obnoxious.

And it hit me instantly. I've had this same problem... since I started doing the bird illustration streams. Since I tried doing art streams and set up my station in the old studio space. I had to swap the mic between the two rooms. I used to stream games from my laptop on my couch so I could chill with my dog, and have my mic mounted on a wooden coffee table next to the couch. But once I added in art streams, I had to move the entire setup over to the studio space. Permanently. I was sitting on a drum throne in there at my drafting table for like 6-8 hours a day. It really fucked up my hips and my back. And my dog just slept on the bed behind me. We didn't really get to interact as much as before. It was a big shift in my life. It was back in like... early 2022, I think. Like late winter/early spring. I was in that studio space for like a year. I didn't even use my couch anymore after that, I moved it to the other side of the room because of its disuse and it remained unused until the night my dog died. I mean that.

I had another microphone identical to the one I have now. It was supposed to be for my brother, I think. I guess he didn't want it. Or maybe he tried it and learned quickly that... it didn't work... Because... it didn't work. And I was really hopeful and optimistic that I could just set up the two mics - one at the couch spot, one at my studio spot - and be fine. But every time I used the second mic... it would make clicking sounds in Discord, like loud popping sounds. I swapped out the cable, same problem. Swapped out mics... fixed it. So... pretty clear it was a mic problem. So... even if I have this mic in my new apartment, which I am pretty sure I don't... pretty sure it didn't survive the move... it's not like I can use it.

The speed I type this out is actually lagging really slow behind my thoughts when I go through really stressful stuff like this, and in conversations, my thoughts go even faster. I have kinda adapted to slowing my thought stream down a bit in order to type it accurately. So... everywhere my brain went up above? That happened in like... 2 seconds. And I didn't see a solution. Because I'm not about to ask my mom to buy me a new microphone. Even if she offered one to me, I don't have an extra port to plug it into. I would need a new input box too. Good lord, all this fucking equipment is like 10 years old. I swear, I'm doing the best I know how with the equipment I've got. I just... I don't like asking my family for money-related things. If they offer of their own free will, I'll talk it over. But I'm not about to go ask my rich parents for a second studio mic for my livestream that has a whopping 0.3 average viewers.

And this is supposed to be for my fucking business. This is my way of introducing my art to new people. Social networking. Opening my studio to the world. This is it. This is all I have. So it's kind of a big deal that I can't fucking talk to my audience. Add to that... that I can't even play music either. So my stream goes from cool music and cool art and hanging out and chatting with the artist ... to sitting there and watching art being made with no interaction, no explanation, with fucking muzak playing over it. At what point in this process is this no longer even my stream?

So yeah. As you can probably tell from how upset I am right now... these emotions were not easy for her to handle. And by not easy, I mean she literally felt threatened by me, and started to guilt me into showing some form of gratitude or appreciation that she googled a mic stand... for a different type of microphone... that's $27... on Amazon... as a solution to this problem... And, I guess, just kinda tried to make me feel indebted for even having a living being to speak to about this. Like... even if she outright said she "couldn't relate" and said "if you need help, you need to tell me how to help", shit like that. I mean. Okay. I'm just gonna go off here.

WHY. THE FUCK. WOULD I COME UP WITH A SOLUTION TO MY OWN PROBLEM IN FRONT OF SOMEONE. AND THEN DELEGATE IT TO THE ONE PERSON. WHO JUST SAT THERE AND WATCHED ME COME UP WITH IT. WHO HAS NO WORKING KNOWLEDGE OF THE PROBLEM ITSELF. WHY THE HELL WOULD I NOT JUST SOLVE IT MYSELF AT THAT POINT.

She asks me how I'm doing. I am honest and forthright, yet metered because I can intuitively tell it's an unsafe environment for me to express those emotions. I was correct in that assessment. She engages and tries to help without gathering enough information about the situation. The attempt falls flat. I get blamed for not giving enough information. When I'm pissed off. And holding my emotions back because she will lose her shit on me if I just go off. <here's the best part> There is no second attempt. It turns immediately into my fault that I am not communicating effectively. As though pointing fingers at me and demanding praise and tribute is going to make me communicate the way she fucking wants. Ever tried... I don't know... asking nicely? Being polite? Being considerate of other peoples' feelings?

I swear to god, I even went all out and brought in examples... like "hey, this would be like if you just suddenly... didn't have a phone in your office." An attempt to bring someone who is miles the fuck away in their own head into a situation that feels similar to mine, that creates the same limitations. To show her how I am feeling at that moment. Nope. Just breezes right past that, like I never even spoke, not even an attempt to empathize.

My fucking ex used to do the same shit. All of this. To try one goddamn thing to help when I was going through a rough time, then taking huge offense when it didn't work, and immediately self-victimizing. I am literally in social isolation. These women seek me out. They attempt to be supportive once. They do not succeed in supporting me in that one attempt. They blame me. It hurts them. And suddenly... like goddamn magic... they need support! And it just so happens that their support is... way more urgent than mine! How... fucking... convenient... --- correction: How fucking toxic. --- "But how am I supposed to help you when you're not telling me how to help you?!" Bitch, you just sat there silent for 15 minutes after I asked you a direct question, you wanna come after me because I didn't hold your hand and spoonfeed you the solution to my own problem, so you can swoop in and take credit for it? Fuck off. Fuck off with that slimy shit. How about you... I don't know... get to know me? Get to know who I am, what I do, why I would feel that way... and then decide whether you're on my side... because you come to me acting like you're on my side, then start fucking pointing fingers at me the second I get upset as though I'm breaking some kind of unwritten rule you came up with or some shit.

I remember clearly having a morning where I was extremely pissed off at my landlord for mowing the lawn. At 10:30 AM. 2 feet outside my window, which was open in the summer. When I had told both of my landlords several times that I work nights. That was... probably 4.5 hours of sleep, woken up by a diesel engine and a whirring steel blade 2 feet away from my head, when I have PTSD. And I remember being on the phone with her, and she... wasn't even sympathetic. She was acting as though me being upset with that was like... unreasonable. Like it didn't make sense or something, like it was bad for me to be upset. That has happened so many times, I can't even count. Just completely dismissing my perfectly reasonable upset, claiming to be "supportive". Spoiler - dismissive is like... the opposite of supportive.

Dead honest, it feels like exploitation. Like my struggles are being exploited and used as like... fun little projects so they can farm "thank you's" and "praise". And they can just bat their eyelashes... or raise their voice and threaten... to twist me into doing all the steps, all the heavy lifting for them. Getting to understand the general situation, identifying all the relevant factors at play, understanding how I feel about it and its importance, putting themselves in my shoes (easy as fuck when you get the other person to put themselves in their own shoes...), start brainstorming options, come up with a plan, delegate responsibility. It all falls on my lap.

This isn't fucking supporting someone who is clearly overwhelmed with emotions. This is watching someone fucking work, while you sit there and look at your fucking Apple Watch and wait for your shopping list to be handed to you, then you click like 6 fucking buttons and BOOM. Problem solved. MY GODDAMN HERO.

Meanwhile. I'm fucking alone. And they have learned absolutely nothing about my life, nothing about my work, nothing about my struggles or how to help me. Because they cut. Fucking. Corners. Because they used emotional manipulation and "poor me, I'm too dumb or old or female or 'don't care about your stupid hobbies' or whatever excuse I can think of in the moment" to coerce me into solving my own problem, for an audience, and then swoop in to gobble up all of my well-earned self-esteem boost from having conquered that obstacle.

Let me tell you what gaming and skateboarding taught me. That apparently these fucking people didn't learn. Those who have never eaten shit 200 times trying a kickflip... will never fucking come close to understanding the value of landing your first kickflip. Those who have never gotten shredded over and over and over by the Taurus Demon in Dark Souls, because you're brand new to the series, you don't know anything about it, you're doing everything you can and you just keep getting fucking stomped. They will never understand what it feels like to finally beat it. Because they quit. Half the time, they don't even attempt it more than once. They just... never try.

You wanna act like clocking in hours and making someone else work your shift is the same value as actually doing the work yourself? You see... I'm gonna keep going with the skate and gaming analogy here. You think you're cheating others. You think that. Say you look up some video on how to beat Taurus Demon. You don't figure it out yourself. You don't learn his move-set, you don't learn your own move-set, you don't use the terrain, you just look up some tutorial online and just copy what they did. What the fuck do you do at the next boss? Hmm? <checks watch> Hmm? No clue, huh. Guess... you're gonna look that boss up too, right? At that point, you're doing a color by numbers and calling it "painting". You're nuking a microwave dinner and calling it "cooking". And most people (I wish I was exaggerating, truly most people) hold themselves back from doing this only because of the judgement of others. Only because people might find out they're "cheating" and they might "get in trouble". Like they're some 14 year old hiding in the garage smoking their aunt's cigarettes or something.

What they don't realize. Is that they cheat themselves. They cheat themselves out of learning, and subsequently growing. LEARNING. IS. OVERCOMING. OBSTACLES. Learning is failing, taking notes, getting back up and learning again. That is literally the definition of learning. There is no learning without risk of failing to learn. And the only way you guarantee that you do not learn... is to give up, or to cheat.

I'm so fed up with this. I just can't do it. I feel like the only support I'm going to get at all is money. So... if that's how things stand... I really shouldn't be giving anything more than... work orders. I should just send shopping lists or something. It feels gross. But the rest of it kinda just feels like a fragile façade right now. Caring about how I feel? Didn't see much of that today, in fact... I got about 10 minutes of actual concern for how I felt, and about 2.5 hours of having my own feelings and my expression of those feelings weaponized against me, and leveraged to explain to me very clearly that the reason I am not getting support or assistance in my life... is because I'm a poor communicator.

I. The writer. The artist. The musician. The radio broadcaster. The streamer. The storyteller. The poet. AM A BAD COMMUNICATOR. AND I NEED TO WORK ON IT. BECAUSE I SUCK AT COMMUNICATING. I WONDER WHY I STRUGGLE TO MEET PEOPLE. I WONDER WHY I'M SO SELF CONSCIOUS ABOUT MY WORK AND SEE MYSELF AS AN IMPOSTOR. I've had this shit ground into my head weekly for over 4 years straight, with minimal breaks, no break longer than... a month or two. THE ENTIRE PANDEMIC. I wish I was exaggerating!

So... I have gathered very clearly that... this is not a safe environment for me to express my honest emotions. My feelings that were inhibiting my communication, that were holding feelings back, that were restricting my expression and keeping them internal? They were correct. Those were correct assessments. So... I'm going to have to keep my distance. Isolation be damned. It's better to be alone and free than whatever the fuck I was subjected to again today.

I learned that with my ex. I had about 6-8 months of freedom from those behaviors... then my mom brought it back in. If she can't keep those behaviors away from me, I will be forced to cut off my last family member.

Well... not my last. I still have my older brother. And my nephew. So, that's very good. I really need to keep reminding myself that.

Okay, let's move to something more positive, shall we? I prototyped the desire path project today. I got really obsessed at the end of the night last night with... exploring a natural environment first person. Like... if I'm going to be the traveler (rather than AI) in this project, I'd like to actually go on the journey, not just move a pen around on a paper. I went with Minecraft. I remembered that there was a minimap mod that tracked your recent movements, Xaero's maps. I got them set up, and even contacted the developer to see if he could give me a tutorial on how to tweak the values on the trail - it leaves little red x's on the map behind you, but at a pretty large time interval (so not a ton of detail, lots of spacing between x's in the trail) and they disappeared after about 60 seconds. I was trying to see if he could let me know how to manually adjust the placement interval and the duration, so I didn't have to screenshot the fucking map every 60 seconds. Welp... he didn't. He got back to me after like 3 hours, which is cool, but he said he'd consider it for a future patch. Then I get lectured for 3 hours about how I'm a bad communicator - when I literally communicated verbatim "could you throw together a quick tutorial for me on how I could manually alter the values in your mod to get this effect? I'm not very experienced with coding" Yeah, guess I didn't ask 3 times, my fucking bad. Maybe I'll just draw a fucking diagram next time.

So after the stupid bullshit with my mom, I started tracking. I started at a village and set random waypoints around the map. I set the spacing way too fucking far, because I wanted to wander and to have a fun adventure... but I bit off a lot more than I could chew. So... I ended up narrowing it down to just going to one Point of Interest for now. So... my first journey, I had the general direction of where I was headed, and the waypoint would pop up to guide me in if I got within 250m of it. Otherwise I'd never find it, and I liked the whole... gravitational pull aspect of it. So I got super lost, explored a lot and then eventually found the waypoint. I set up a big shrine at this location as a visual marker. Then I headed back, doing the same process, screenshotting every minute or so. After every trip, I'd stitch the screenshots together in GIMP and trace my trail. The first trip was something around 30 screenshots, the last one was 11. I started to get a feel for the environment, learning little landmarks with each pass. There was a village about 2/3 of the way there, there was a sharp corner area by a bay that I used as a reference point, two river crossings where I tried to be a bit realistic and cross at the narrowest place I could visually find. And each trip, I learned more and more landmarks. I did the trip 5 times in total. Then I put all my trips on top of the master map and looked for overlaps. I went back into the world and used a shovel to make path blocks and added torch markers on a fence post where 3 or more paths overlapped, to simulate a desire path, a well-traveled area. There wasn't a ton of overlap on paths, but there was a surprising amount, a lot more than I thought when I did it. I felt half-lost every time.

Now, when I do this again tomorrow, there will be some established trails to keep an eye out for. I will make a point to use a trail every time I see one, as long as it's heading towards my destination or a landmark I know. The torches will make them super visible at night. And as I continue to do this trip between Riverside and Bright Point Shrine, more and more ground will be converted into path. Sand will be compacted into sandstone, dirt will be compacted into paths. I might do bridges eventually, but I'm not quite there yet. I'm curious to see how dramatically the new paths narrow my wandering and... tame my travel into a deliberate direction. I plan to screenshot, stitch and track every trip... which is laborious but doable... and then add the trips to the master every 5 trips. And continue the rule - everywhere there are 3 or more paths overlapping is now compressed and has a torch marker.

Oh, and since I'm on markers... <eyeroll> ... I got my fabric paint. I just... didn't have time to work on my hoodie with everything. It's just sitting on my work table. Maybe tomorrow at some point. I'd really like to, these pens look like they're going to do some real good work for me. I think the mandala on the back of my hoodie is going to get some... I'm still trying to decide. I definitely want to add a metallic to it, I'm very drawn to silver right now. I'm just not sure about what other color. I feel like red is a bit too menacing for this hoodie. Maybe white? We can see how opaque the white is? I mean... that's the real test of an opaque paint pen, put white paint on a black hoodie. If that works, fucking every one of those should be solid gold. I'm just back and forth about like... testing... on this. BUT, this was supposed to be the test hoodie! I just got really attached to it! XD

Glad for the vibe reset. Lots of cool things coming down the pipeline. Trying to stay focused on that. And yeah, maybe this is good incentive to get the fuck out to the skatepark and meet new people, to just like... prove that not all people are stuck in these nasty habits like my ex and my mom. I can't let their paranoia about my emotions... make me feel like my emotions aren't safe to have around other people. I'm not a pitbull, I'm a pacifist. I'm just super stressed out and can't catch a break.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #stream of thoughts

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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I.R.L.📷1

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, voyeurism/exhibitionism, slight stalking, masturbation, naughty talk.

This is dark!(camboy!)Andy Barber. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your guilty pleasures becomes and all too real terror.

Note: I split this into two because it kept stretching on and on ahah. But I hope you’re ready for a creepy ass camboy.

Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!

As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3

You could blame your break-up or the pandemic but you were just lonely. Besides, Cam left you a year ago and the quarantine was long over. It seemed the whole word had moved on except you.

You always got that fluttery feeling when you opened up the tab and typed in the address. You keyed in your username and password and that moment of shame and guilt quickly passed. Men did this all the time so what was the big deal? You had the money and time to waste on the shallow release.

You scrolled through the active rooms and found ‘SuitNTie80’. There were a few times you tried other rooms but you quickly left, always keeping to your comfort zone, not that you were ever very comfortable. There was that shadow of guilt that lingered after but you learned to live with it.

You sat up and leaned on your arm as you watched the window load and the chat popped up first on the side. You were desensitized to the image of the naked body, the large hand around the thick shaft, stroking and teasing as he issued intoxicating groans. You piled your pillows behind you and bent your legs as you watched lazily.

You were mostly quiet but you were there at least twice a week. You didn’t have much to say in the text box and the thought of a private voice chat was too intimidating for the price. You sent your donations and went on your way once you got yours.

You tickled your leg as your eyes clung to the hair along his muscled chest and stomach, his thick thighs bent and bulging as he gripped his dick firmly. He was huge, not that you were ever a size queen, but it was a nice escape, a careless fantasy. It wasn’t hurting anyone to look.

You hummed and reached for your vibe. You leaned back and teased your clit. You got wetter as he moved around and the bold yellow font popped up in the chat box. You hit ‘pay’ and bypassed the tier. The chat dwindled and the muscular body laid back so that his dick stood straight. He continued to play with himself as he pushed his head into the pillow.

You grabbed your dildo and angled it down along your folds. You poked and prodded until you slipped inside just a little. You pulled back and pushed back in until you could take most of it, the vibe still buzzing against your bud.

Another paywall popped up and again you hit the big button and confirmed. You kept the transactions on your credit card and didn’t think much until the statement showed up. Again, the audience dwindled. It was Wednesday, there weren’t as many as the weekends.

You got comfortable again and pumped the toy as you rubbed the stimulator against your clit. You bit your lip and whined, close. The deep voice stopped you.

“Looks like it's just you,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed and kept his hand moving.

You typed a hey into the chat and sent another tip. He smiled, only the bottom half of his face visible, the trimmed beard defined his already sharp jaw. You fell back again as you tried to focus on his hand.

“You’re here a lot, honey,” he purred and rasped as he rolled his palm around his tip, “every week…”

You froze and sat up stiffly, careful not to push the toy deeper.

“You don’t have to be shy,” he cooed, “we can go into a private room.”

You didn’t know what to say. You just wanted to cum and lay down. Forget about another long day back in the office.

“No charge,” he offered, “I’d just like to hear your voice.”

Your fingers tapped noisily over the whir of the toy, ‘why?’

“You’re my most loyal customer,” he slowed his hand, “just curious.”

You just sat there, your heart pounding. You liked not being seen, just watching quietly, just being there in the audience. You were embarrassed he even noticed the frequency of your attendance. You eased the toy out of you as you leaned an arm on your leg. You hovered the cursor over the leave icon.

The invited for a private room popped up and kept you from clicking, “just a few minutes, honey, I’m almost done and I wanna help you finish.”

You bit the inside of your lip and dragged your finger down the trackpad. You hit ‘accept’ and a pop-out window buffered as it requested access to your microphone. You could mute once you were in. You confirmed and the private room loaded. You maximized it and drew your hand back sharply, already regretting the decision.

“How are you doing, honey?” he asked, “anyway you want me?”

You stared at the screen, overwhelmed by the spontaneity and your natural shyness.

“I hear your toy,” he said softly, “why don’t you tell me what you’re playing with?”

You gulped and the mattress spring squeaked as you shifted, “um, I’m okay,” you answered his first question, “how are you?”

“I’m great,” he pushed the camera back and sat so that you could see all of him, “it’s nice to hear the voice behind the name.” His teeth grazed his lip as his muscles tensed and he groaned, “so what do we got, hmm?”

“Er,” you looked down, the toy buzzing against your thigh as you’d let it slip thoughtlessly, “a vibe and... “

“And…” he coaxed, “what else, honey?”

“Um, a dildo?” you said weakly, “erm, yeah.”

“Is it inside you?” he asked.

You choked and tried to smother it. You sniffed and clicked off the toy. “Sorry, I don’t think--”

“I want it inside you, now,” he said firmly as he stroked himself, “I want you to imagine it’s me, that i’m stretching you.”

You gaped at the screen as he watched you expectantly, almost as if he could see you. You always kept your camera covered though so at least he could only hear how clueless you were.

“Turn the vibe back on and put that dick inside of you,” he snarled, “come on, honey, for me.”

“I…” you breathed, “okay…”

You shakily hit the button so it vibed again. You asked yourself what you were doing as you slipped it down against your clit and pushed the dildo into you before it could slip out completely. You squeaked and he growled as his hand sped up.

“Mmm, is it in?” he asked, “all of it?”

“Y-yeah,” you murmured, “as much as… I can.”

You cringed at your own answer and he grinned.

“Oh, you’re tight?” he teased, “sounds like you need to be broken in.” You let out a breath as you sat unmoving, filled but paralysed by the intimacy of the chat, “go on, I wanna hear you, honey. I can’t finish if I can’t hear you.”

You hesitated but laid back against the mountain of pillows. You rolled the vibe flat to your clit and moved the dildo slowly. You quivered as the ripples flowed through you and made your toes curl, your legs splayed wide around your laptop. You can hear how wet you are as instinctively you move the toy faster and moan.

“That’s it, honey,” he cooed, “listen to you, hmm? So we for me…” his voice was a series of gasps as he added lube to his length and sped up, “how close are you?”

“C-close,” you rasped.

“Good, good,” his knuckles turned white as he worked his hand even faster, “I want you to picture me… balls deep… fucking you until your hips hurt… until you can’t walk…”

You let out a pathetic mewl as you fucked yourself harder with the toy, to the point of pain.

“What’s you’re favourite position, honey?” he asked as he used both hands on himself.

“Oh, uh…” you shuddered as you thought, trying to keep the toys in action, “doggy… I think.”

“Mmm, wouldn’t you like me behind you, pounding into that tight little cunt,” he puffed, “I can only imagine how tight you’d squeeze me… the way you’d shake… you think you could take it? Hmm?”

“Y… y… yes,” your voice fizzled out and you let out a strained cry as you came abruptly.

You panted wildly and turned onto your side as you squeezed both toys between your legs and groaned. A grunt brought your attention back to the screen as you twitched. The man cradled his sack as he came and strings spilled from his tip as his voice rumbled from the speakers. He smeared his cum all down his length until he was a mess and let his shoulders fall as he stilled his hand.

“Was that good, honey?” he asked as he looked into the camera.

“Mhmm,” you uttered as you sat up and slid the dildo out, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Yeah, it was, wasn’t it?” he stood and came closer to the camera, bending so that you could see his face clearly, he was startlingly handsome, “can we do it again?”

“I… don’t know,” you replied as you turned off the vibe and covered yourself as if he could see you, “maybe.”

“You did really well, sweetie,” he smiled, “and I really like your voice.”

“I…” you sniffed and swallowed as you glanced around your dark bedroom. Is this what you’d come to? “I gotta go.”

You hit ‘leave’ and immediately felt awful. As much for leaving him hanging as even indulging in the chat. You rubbed your temples and bent your fingers against your skull as you gripped your head. How sad could your existence be?

📷

The disconnect icon came up and Andy sighed. He closed down the chat and logged out. He sat and cleaned himself, gently as he was overly sensitive from over an hour of stimulation. He enjoyed his little sessions and he made a decent penny, not that he really needed the money. It was more the high than the dollar sign.

He pulled on a loose pair of silk pajama pants and the fabric tickled his tip cloyingly. He closed the lid of his laptop and tidied the room, stripping the bed and putting the plain cotton sheets back on. He sat heavily to catch his breath and leaned back on the heels of his hands.

He always saw her username in the chat when she entered and tipped but she never said anything. He didn’t think much of it, she was just another regular. LacyLilac; it was a cute name. He was just bored and wanted to try something new. It was fun and thrilling and just the sound of her wet cunt made him twitch.

He kept thinking about her voice. He was disappointed she left so quickly. He would’ve liked to talk a little longer but it was just a porn chat after all. What more did they have to say to each other?

He tried to match her voice to a face in his head. She was probably cute; she sounded young. Well, lots of people were younger than him. He was probably one of the oldest cammers on the site.

She was shy though and he liked that. He’d married the outspoken one and he was over it. That turned to shit fast and look where it got him. Alone and pimping himself out for kicks. Yeah, it was fun at first, he liked being watched, it was always a game for him. He used to play with himself at his desk in his office, sometimes the interns caught him but they never said anything. They were too afraid.

That was all gone too. That life was behind him, so far it almost felt like it never happened. He wished it never had; wished he hadn’t wasted the time.

He stood and sighed. He took his laptop from the table and slipped it under his arm. He went downstairs and opened it on the counter. He let the screen saver bounce as he grabbed a beer from the fridge. He popped the cap off with the edge of the granite and watched the little wisp of mist rise from the neck.

He tapped on the pad and scrolled through his activity log. He found her name and clicked on it. Her profile was mostly empty except for the profile pic, a stock photo of lilacs. He got nothing from scrolling up and down the blank fields. Well, he knew a few tricks the cops passed onto him back in the day.

He opened another tab and quickly generated the link. He went back to her profile and clicked the little speech bubble beside her username. He took a moment before he began to type.

‘Hey, honey, I had fun. I hope to see you again on Friday <3. My schedule’s changing soon, you can see it here.’ He attached the link and hit send. He took a swig of the hoppy beer and leaned an elbow on the counter.

All she had to do was click that link, if she didn’t, he’d have to figure something else out. Or maybe just give up.

The computer chirped as a green dot appeared beside her name. She was online. He saw the little eye beside his message and the dots as she typed. She stopped and he waited. Nothing.

He clicked back to the other window and opened up the visitation log for the link. He smiled and took another deep gulp. She’d done it. She tried to use the link and now he could see everything; her IP, her location, her internet provider. It was just enough to work with.

Bing. He switched back over to the chat and finally her response hung beneath his in a bubble.

‘Thx. I’ll try. The link doesn’t work tho.’

He typed with one hand as he finished his beer in sips, ‘sorry, honey. I’ll fix that and send an updated link when I get a chance. Have a good night <3.’

‘Good night,’ she responded and the green dot disappeared.

He set aside his empty bottle and closed the laptop. He was hard again. It didn’t usually happen so soon after a session. It was why he spaced them out. But he was throbbing so violently that just standing straight made him groan.

He gripped the counter and shoved his hand down his pants. He closed his eyes and exhaled as he quaked at his own touch. He thought of her little ‘ums’ and ‘ers’ and the buzz of her toy. Such a shy little thing acting so innocent and yet she was always there, watching him.

Fuck, it wouldn’t take much more. Not as he thought of how she couldn’t even fit the whole toy in her sweet cunt. He would help her with that.

📷

The anomaly soon grew to a habit. The second meeting was just as awkward. You didn’t do private chats, it was just easier to fade into the background, but the third was easier. Despite how your nerves flurried and your hair stood on edge, he made you feel comfortable, made you relax as you neared the tipping point.

That night, you promised him you’d be in the chat but things always went to shit when you had plans. You were almost relieved as your after hours activities were starting to get in the way of your work. You found it hard to focus when he kept sending you messages that filled your burner email.

You sat before the blue-tinted hue of the monitor, your eyes watering as the colours seared into your retinas. The spreadsheet left a template in your vision and you saw the little boxes even as you leaned back and rubbed your eyes. Maybe another hour and you could go and forget about the colour-coded rectangles.

You sighed and took out your phone. You looked out at the pen of cubicles, your small office forgotten in the corner. You handled the numbers and those only mattered when someone needed a new chair or the holiday party was coming near, and those tasks were easier left to the interns.

You yawned and swiveled back and forth in your chair. The little envelope floated in the margin. You dragged down the status bar and hit the icon. Your inbox was filled with alerts to new messages on the chat site. You only had your shell email account attached to your phone and kept to incognito mode on your laptop.

Only Lucy was still around and she was having a loud phone call on speaker a few offices down. She basically lived at her desk and served as a harbinger of your future. You opened a private window and signed in. You went to your profile and checked the blinking message box.

‘Hey, starting soon.’

‘On live now!’

‘Where are you, honey?’

‘About to go private.’

The last message was a sad-looking emoji and you shook your head. This was why you needed to stop. It felt special at first to be noticed, to feel wanted even if you were just a money sign, but it was growing exhausting. You hardly even enjoyed it anymore, you were just there to get off and get it over with.

‘Srry, caught up at work. Not going to make it tn.’

You hit send and blacked out your phone. You went back to the lifeless excel columns and compared it with the garbled mess corrupted on the second monitor. You told Stuart over and over to eject it properly and didn’t understand how the file hadn’t been uploaded to the company cloud. You shuffled through your papers and shrugged it off. No use being angry, no one cared.

Your phone vibed again. You ignored it and kept typing, looking through reports by the month as you keyed in numbers. A year's worth of tracking all down the drain. Buzz, buzz, buzz. Your phone wouldn’t stop.

You opened up your phone and went back to the private window. ‘You couldn’t tell me earlier?’ ‘Hello?’ ‘What did I do, honey?’

The messages came close together and you looked over at the log. His chat had gone inactive; it was early. You were slightly addled and confused by that.

‘It’s work. I haven’t had a chance. Can’t talk. Logging off. See you Friday.’ You hit the arrow and excited the window.

You dropped your phone face down and hung your head back in exasperation. Your guilty pleasure was becoming a second job. The guy had enough viewers, he could hardly be missing your wallet that much. It was starting to get weird and you weren’t so sure you were going to tune in that Friday, you might be better off to catch up on your sleep.

📷

You kept your laptop off on Friday and opted instead to catch up the latest episodes of your favourite trash tv. The week was long enough to have you dozing off by the second episode and you woke early on Saturday, feeling more groggy than refreshed. Even so, you had two days to yourself.

Two days to catch up with your personal life. You went to the kitchen and used the last of the coffee. And the cream. Time for a shop. Well, you could still make a fun day out of it. There was a café in the same plaza as the grocery store so you could stop in and pretend like you were enjoying your time off with whatever specialty flavour they offered that day.

You didn’t get out before noon as you dragged your feet. Your mind kept drifting to your claustrophobic office and the migraine-inducing spreadsheets. You tried not to, fought your own mind as you steered into the parking lot, but you knew you had another week of bullshit awaiting you.

You grabbed a cart and made your rounds of the aisles, sighing as you waited on octogenarians to decide on a grain of bread. You hurried to check-out before you could get caught behind another dawdler and paid, piling your goods in your cart impatiently. You rolled out the lot and filled your trunk, pushing the cart back to the receptacle with the rest.

You hit the lock button on your keys and headed to the cafe. You eyed the strawberry and cream latte on the board as you stood in line. A deep voice drew your attention from the menu and your heart stuttered as you looked at the man at the till. It couldn’t be.

You got a better look at his face as he eyed the desserts in the glass case and pointed to the one he wanted. How in the fuck? The world couldn’t be that small. You tucked your chin down as your cheeks burned. You could only think about the image of him, or really his more intimate parts, and his low moans.

He swiped his card and moved along the counter. You stood frozen, not moving until the person behind you told you it was your turn. You apologized and moved up to the till. You stammered out your order and fumbled with your wallet, keeping your head down as you paid.

You kept your distance as you moved to wait in the corner until your turn at the window was called. You stared at the floor and tried to dissipate into the air as you pondered just leaving without your drink. When your name rang in your ears, you stepped up without look and collided with another.

“Oh, sorry,” the familiar voice made your eyes round, “shoot.”

You winced and pulled your shirt away from your chest as the hot coffee seeped down your front. You shook out the fabric and shook your head.

“It’s fine, I-- I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you dared to look up at him, unsurprised by your luck, “I hope I didn’t, er, spill too much.”

“I’m more worried about burning you,” he said, “you sure you’re alright?”

“Fine,” you repeated curtly and stepped around him, “really.”

You grabbed the paper cup and spilled even more hot liquid onto your fingers in your urgency. When you turned back the man was just ahead of you and he waited as he held the door for you. You ducked your head down as you passed him and thanked him with a mumble.

“No problem,” he said as he dropped the door.

You stepped off the curb and almost tripped. You didn’t look back as you rushed over to your car and searched for your keys in your pockets. You hit the button and quickly opened the door and flopped into the seat, placing your cup in the holder as more foam and espresso spilled from under the lid.

You hung your head back and sighed. You cringed and wanted to scream. You gripped the steering wheel and shook the whole car in your tantrum. As if your life couldn’t get worse. You were just one disaster after the other.

You wiped your hand on your jeans and started the car. Oh well, a forgettable slip-up. You wouldn’t remember it next week and he likely wouldn’t either. He didn’t even know who you were. Didn’t know you were one of the perverts watching him on their screen as they sat in the dark, lonely and desperate.

You pulled out of your spot and steered between the rows as you neared the exit. Fuck, you thought to yourself, you probably paid for that coffee. Ugh, why were you doing this to yourself? Making yourself feel worse and for what? He put himself on the internet, you were just supporting him.

“Just shut up,” you said to your inner voice as you turned out into traffic, “just stop.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #camboy!andy barber #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #two shot #one shot #irl #defending jacob

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chocolateheart · 3 years

Text

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

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puredivinity · 4 years

Text

—chemistry; eren jaeger

❣︎ very, very self-indulgent. not sorry <3, also unedited.

❣︎ warnings: nsfw (18+), explicit language, fem!reader, eren is a little shit but we love him <3, ch*mistry

❣︎ word count: 2.4k

❣︎ eren’s masterlist

Zoom classes are the worst. Well, you’d argue that all classes are the worst, but these in particular? Terrible.

Especially when you’re just listening to a teacher drone on and on about various things, like their day, their life, and worst of all, chemistry. The damned subject that you dreaded logging on for. The subject that made you want to throw your entire laptop out of the window where it’d land on an unsuspecting pedestrian. Yeah.

Fuck that.

Professor Ackerman was explaining something about the structure of atoms, and you dozed off more and more as time went by. You couldn’t care less about atoms, where they come from, their make-up, and whatever the fuck else he had to say about the periodic table. You’d tried to take notes while he was talking, but had given up on that quite a long time ago. Your pen sat flat on the almost blank sheet of notebook paper, save for the half-assed title of the notes.

Luckily for you, your camera was off so no one could really tell that you weren’t paying attention - or rather, had completely distanced yourself from your computer. Your chair creaked as you leaned back and pushed your headphone in your ear, closing your eyes while you relaxed to the soft tunes of the audio playing. There were several things you’d much rather be doing right now: Sleeping, eating, finishing, Unsolved Mysteries, and various other things, including your boyfriend.

Speaking of him, he was in the room opposite you. The two rooms shared a wall, so you could always hear what he’s up to over there. You popped a headphone out of your ear and quickly muted your computer, soon picking up the sounds of Eren playing Overwatch. He never did plug in headphones to his computer - to your dismay - instead opting to have the volume on full blast while he did whatever he did. That often bled into your class time and every time you’d unmute your microphone, your classmates and professor would hear either the boring voice of his professor or when he wasn’t in class, him yelling at the TV or one of his friends.

Eren got a little enthusiastic when playing video games, and now that you were in an apartment, it caused more of an issue. He had a tendency to be quite vocal, regardless of what he’d been doing. Singing in the shower, cleaning (when you forced him), talking on the phone, playing games, everything. Any and everything you could think of, Eren would probably find a way to be loud while doing it. That, and how to cause a problem. He wasn’t a child, but the man sure knew how to cause a ruckus and look good while doing it.

I mean, you couldn’t really say much either. You had your moments where you didn’t use an inside voice, just like he did. You know, when you’d gotten a problem wrong, stubbed your toe, played a horror game and got scared - which Eren laughed at you for - or when he was hitting the spots that made your vision go blank. So you know, same boat.

As you sat there, your mind wandered and the professor’s voice became more and more distant as time passed. You’d drifted into your own la-la-land, sinking further into your plush desk chair. The memories of the previous night worked their way to the forefront of your mind, outshining all other potential thoughts. The two of you had a competition last night, trying to see who could hold out for the longest while 1v1-ing in Overwatch, using Widow. It was a rather intense game of self-control and neither of you could really keep it to yourselves; when you flicked his nose, your hand lingered for a second too long, or your eyes lingered where they shouldn’t. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Eren’s mischievous stare dissipate for a brief moment when he snuck a fast glance at your cleavage, because of the tank top you were wearing. Both of you opted to wear rather revealing clothes to rile up the other. Well, it was partially for this, but also because your house was a literal sauna.

But—it worked. You were ready to give up before Eren - him being the daredevil he was - but he’d broken before you, giving you the victory. Once you’d raised a triumphant fist in the air after winning, you’d noticed that Eren wasn’t doing his usual complaints about the match in its entirety, typically saying things like, “I wanna go again,” or “Babe that’s not fair, you cheated.”

Instead, you’d spun around to find him eyeing you up and down, licking his lips. A prominent bulge was visible through the thin fabric of his basketball shorts since he hadn’t worn underwear for the occasion. And neither had you. Both of you wanted to be easily accessible for the other, not wanting to waste too much time given that you were already fired up to begin with. Neither of you really had the time to waste - you were far too impatient for that. You just wanted to fuck, and fast.

The quicker the better, he’d say.

“Congrats, babe. You win,” Eren gave you a soft round of applause once he’d finished. “I lose,” he stood up from his place on the couch, stalking toward you. Warm hands came to rest on your waist and tugged you forward, coming face to face with him. He grinned at you, admiring the astonished but intrigued look in your eye. “I think you deserve a reward for that, don’t you?”

Absolutely.

You didn’t need to say that; the way you melted into him told everything. To him, your body language said everything words couldn’t, and he was more than fine with that. You fucked on the couch that night because you were too needy to make it up the stairs. Not that anyone complained, you know.

The recollection of the prior night made you touch your lips in remembrance and a delightful thrill to slide down your spine. Maybe that’s why you were so tired - no, you knew that was why. You slept for four hours because Eren kept you up. But hey, you had one hell of a time. You squeezed your thighs together, suddenly noticing the influx of heat down there.

Fuck, you thought. You’re in the middle of class - one that you’re not too focused on - and you’re horny. Eren’s playing a game and you didn’t want to bother him - but alas, you couldn’t help yourself. Pausing your music, you plucked your headphones from your ear and set them on the table, double checking that your camera was off before you swiftly exited the room. As you approached Eren’s room, you could hear the clacking of a controller get louder and louder. Blue LED lighting peeked out from the crack in the open door, bleeding into the hallway. You gently pushed it open and poked your head inside, observing the scene in front of you.

Eren was indeed playing Overwatch, currently in the middle of a quick play game. He had his headset on and was wearing just shorts and a lightweight jacket he’d had since you’d known him. His phone was toward the head of his bed, forgotten since he’d been playing. You assumed he was playing with Armin or Jean, since they were usually who he’d be grouped up with. And Jean also was who he’d screech at constantly.

“Babe,” you whispered, trying to catch Eren’s attention. It rarely worked, especially when he had his headphones on, but you didn’t want to yell and tell the others you were there. Jean would probably make some joke about the two of you fucking, which was exactly your plan, but you didn’t want to let him know that, of course. He’d never let either of you live it down. Eren didn’t really give a shit.

As you’d expected, Eren didn’t hear you.

“Babe,” you called, pushing the door open some more to reveal your figure. You rubbed your legs together, fully stepping in the room and closing the door behind you.

Upon noticing you, Eren pulled back one side to free his ear, so he could hear what you needed. “Yeah?”

“I’m horny,” you said, snorting at how Eren dropped the controller; ready to get to work before he stopped.

“Aren’t you in the middle of class though?”

“Yeah, but my professor is rambling on about atoms. Well, at least he was before I stopped listening.”

Eren playfully rolled his eyes and chuckled, double checking that it muted him before he patted his lap, urging you to come sit. You straddled his lap and draped your arms over his shoulders, and his hands squeezed your thighs.

“But wait,” you paused and your eyes flickered to the TV and back to Eren. “What about your friends? The game?”

Eren had already buried his face in your neck and had planted light kisses on it before you spoke. “They can wait,” His words vibrated against the flesh, muffling them slightly. His teeth nibbled on your collarbone and you gasped; able to feel Eren smirk against you. Cold hands wormed their way up your shirt, brushing your warm skin. Fingers curled around the hem of your shirt and tugged upward, prompting you to lift your arms for easier removal. He tossed the fabric to the floor, where it lie soon to be forgotten alongside your underwear.

Eren leaned forward to capture you in a hungry kiss, swallowing your moans as he rubbed two fingers along your folds. Your hips involuntarily rutted against the digits, trying to create more friction and gain more pleasure. A needy whine slipped from your lips and your hands moved to grip his shoulders, pleading with him to stop teasing you.

While he slipped two digits inside of your hole, your hand flew down to palm him through the thin fabric of his shorts. You rocked against his fingers while he rutted against your hand. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip and took the flesh between them. “Eren,” you breathed once you’d pulled away from the intense kiss. “Fuck me.”

Eren wasted absolutely no time, tugging down his shorts enough for his hard cock to spring free. And in one swift motion, he buried himself deep inside your walls. You moaned in tandem with his movements, his cock slowly sliding in and allowing you to feel him. Every inch of him. “Fuuck,” he groaned, looking up at your pleasure-filled face. “You feel so fucking good, Princess.”

“So. Fucking. Good,” He stressed each word with a quick jerk of his hips, breathy gasps falling from his parted lips. You took a pert nipple between your index and thumb fingers and gave it gentle squeezes and pulls to add to the pleasure you were already feeling. Eren’s other hand moved from its place on your steady hips, down to your clit, and began pinching and rubbing it. “Shit,” you whined, hips jerking with every pinch.

Eren pulled you down, so you hovered over him and shifted to get a better angle. One hand continued their work on your clit while the other gave rough slaps to your ass, which echoes throughout the room. “You look so fucking hot babe,” He said and licked his lips. His words only edged you further and further, and he could tell they worked by the way you clenched him. “‘M gonna-“ You silenced him by sealing your lips to his again.

He responded to his by grinding into you and flipping you over on your back, never breaking the kiss while the two of you got situated. His hand slid underneath your knee and pushed it up toward your chest, exposing more of you to him. A quick rush of his hips led him to a rhythm, and he held it, plunging deeper and deeper inside. His mouth muffled the cries that tried to fall from you, instead swallowing them. You rutted against him with fervor, wanting - no, needing - him to go faster.

Luckily for you, he took the hint.

You broke away from the kiss to let out a loud cry as Eren anchored himself, driving further in your core. His balls pounded against your ass as he continued and your hand shot out to bury itself in his brown locks. You twirled a couple strands around your finger, giving them quite the pull and relishing in the moan that came from the man above. He loved getting his hair played with.

“Eren,” you cried, feeling the knot in your stomach preparing to burst. “I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna cum so fucking- Oh!” You’d been stopped midway by another harsh thrust of encouragement from Eren, which was enough to send you toppling over the edge. A lightning bolt shot through your veins from top to bottom and your toes curled, back arching off the bed as your body convulsed from the impact of your orgasm. Eren pulled out and stroked himself a few times to get him there, hot and sticky ropes splattering on your belly.

The two of you sat there for a moment and your heavy, labored breathing filled the room, shushing the sounds of the still on TV. You hadn’t noticed that you’d drifted off until the gentle swiping of a tissue on your stomach pulled you back in. Eren finished cleaning up the mess and sluggishly yanked his shorts up to toss the dirtied tissue in the bin beside the door, soon returning to your side in the bed.

“Fuck chemistry.” You mumbled and wrapped yourself in Eren’s duvet.

“I agree,” He responded, snuggling up to you, planting a light kiss to your sweat covered forehead. Eren licked his lips afterward and scrunched his face up at the bitter taste, making you giggle quietly.

For a moment, the room was quiet until your ears picked up snickering and laughter from Eren’s headphones. “Babe,” you nudged him. “Do you hear that?”

Eren strained his ears for a moment to listen, immediately shooting up once he realized what it was. He turned his controller back on and pressed the home button, clicking over to the ‘Party' section, only to find out that he, of course, was not muted.

“Fuck me,” Eren groaned and scrambled to turn off his PS4.

“Agreed.”

#eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger #eren #eren x reader #modern au #reader insert

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fangirlovestuff · 3 years

Text

A Perfect Tree - Jake Jensen x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! sorry this is soooo incredibly late, this is for @donutloverxo, @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817‘s Hoelidays challenge and it’s new years eve... (happy new years btw!!) i hope you still enjoy this fluffy one, i’m really glad i got to write something for jake because i love him:)

Summary: You meet Jake when he comes into the coffe shop you work in to get himself a drink, and you’re immediately curious.

Prompts: Coffee Shop AU & Decorating the Christmas tree

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: a few curse words, maybe implied age gap but reader is in her early twenties and jake is in his late twenties, so not that extreme

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

You were a student, so working afternoons at a coffee shop was the most reasonable way to make the money you desperately needed to get you through college. Right now, it was a hot spring day, so there weren't any people in the shop, which gave you a great opportunity to have a little unplanned break to stare at your phone and turn your brain off for a few moments, something you rarely had time to do.

However, after a few minutes the bell above the door rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. You sighed internally, mourning your short-lived break before lifting your eyes to greet the customer.

All of your dismay faded once you got a good look at him, and only one thought remained – fuck. He's so cute.

His broad frame was making his way towards the counter, and he was looking at his phone as well, not lifting his eyes until he got just in front of you, and of fucking course he had the most stunning blue eyes you had ever seen. You swallowed heavily.

"Hello, what can I help you with?" you said in your best customer-service voice, letting out an internal sigh of relief that you didn't fumble over your words.

"Um, I'd like…" he said, his eyes scanning the menu he picked up from the counter, "an espresso please. Long." He lifted his eyes from the menu and maybe it was just you, but you thought you saw his eyes scan your face for a brief second. He smiled at you expectantly.

"Uh, sure thing. That'll be… five thirty. Anything else?"

"No, just the coffee," he smiled again.

"Alright. And your name please sir?"

"Jake."

"Okay then Jake," you smiled and lifted your eyes up to meet his gaze after you were done typing away the order, "you can just grab a seat, I'll call on you when it's ready."

"Perfect," he nodded, before sitting down at one of the further tables.

Once sat down, you could release the breath you didn't know you were holding. Get a grip, you thought at yourself before moving to make his order. But you couldn't resist sneaking a peek at Jake from the corner of your eye every few moments.

He was hunched slightly over the table, typing away on a laptop he somehow already managed to turn on. His gaze was focused, concentrated, which allowed you all the gaping time you wished. You noticed the way his taut muscles stretched with every movement of his arms, his tight t-shirt looking like it was about to rip apart. You noticed the way he licked his lips in concentration, the motion seemingly automatic. You noticed his brows furrowing as his eyes scan-

Shit, you nearly spilled his coffee!

You hastily righted the cup and came to the counter to hand it to him.

"A long espresso for Jake?" you called out with a slight smile.

His head shot up and he got up to get his coffee and pay. As he passed you the money, his hand grazed against yours. It was warm, and you thought he left it in place just a bit longer than he needed to, but maybe that was just wishful thinking.

"Thank you," he said, a sincere smile on his face. You just nodded at him, and before you could think of anything of value to say he was already walking back to his table, sitting down and sipping his hot coffee with caution.

He sat there for a little bit longer, typing on his computer and drinking. You thought he looked a little worn out, tired, but you were probably just projecting. You huffed out a breath and went back to work.

When he left, he just nodded your way with a smile and you nodded back, giving him a small wave as he left. Oh god, a wave? Really? God, you're pathetic.

That was the first time you met Jake. As time went by, he would often come into the coffee shop to work, or at least that's what he seemed to be doing on the computer. Sometimes he came in looking extra tired, and a few times even with a bandage or a scratch, but you never asked his why. After all, that was never your business.

You learned more things about him, in short conversations over the counter as he waited for his drink. You learned his last name was Jensen. He told you he was a technician, but something about the glint in his eye as he said that told you that wasn't probably the entire truth. Nevertheless, you never asked, not wanting to be rude or cross any boundaries.

Jake had the tendency to disappear sometimes. There were weeks he'd come in nearly every day, and then two weeks went but when he didn't show up at all. It raised your suspicion, but obviously you didn't do anything about it. Hell, you didn’t even know what you were suspecting him in.

One day, he came to the coffee shop earlier than he usually did, at an hour he was the only one in the shop besides… well, you.

He ordered his usual and sat down at his table. You turned your back on him to clean up the machine behind you when you heard him call your name.

"Is there a problem?" you asked, confused.

He got up and walked towards you, holding something in his hand.

"I'm afraid I have to return this napkin," he handed it to you with a smile.

You frowned, "What's wrong wi- oh," you smiled upon unfolding it. He wrote down his phone number, with a little 'xo' at the end. "Oh, now I see what's wrong with it. I'll go get you a new one," you said.

You grabbed a napkin and scribbled your number down on it. "Is this one better?" you asked with a smile, handing it to him.

"Much better," he smiled, his hand purposely hanging onto yours for longer than necessary when grabbing it. "Thank you," he winked and turned to leave.

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

You and Jake have been dating for almost a year now, and this was the first Christmas you were spending together.

"No, Jake- gimmie that!" you laughed as he kept the sparkling orbs high above his head and out of your reach.

"Not until you apologize," he tutted with a smile.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "Fine. I'm sorry I called you a grinch," you drew out. "I only did it because you were being one. Now can we please decorate the tree already?" you pouted.

"I wasn't being a grinch!" he insisted.

"See? That's exactly what a grinch would say!" you laughed, "You can't just turn off my Christmas music when I'm mid-jam session!"

"That's not called being a grinch, that's called being considerate of our neighbors," he smirked, but gave you the ornament he was holding anyways. You stuck your tongue out as you took it from his hands, hanging it on your Christmas tree.

Suddenly you smirked and started singing as loudly as you were before, "All I want for Christmas i-" but before you could hit the high note, Jake simply picked you up over his shoulder and started carrying you away.

"No wait," you said in between fits of laughter, "I'll stop I promise, just let me decorate the tree!"

"Alright," Jake chuckled and put you down. "But no more singing! You don't want to get on the naughty list," he smirked.

"Who said I didn't?" you smirked right back, and before he could reply you were already walking back towards the tree. Jake joined you and you both decorated in silence together, his getting to all the high places.

After a while, all that was missing was the star, and you walked back to enjoy your handiwork. "I think we did a pretty good job," you told Jake, who was getting the star out and handed it to you. With a smile, he gestured and you hopped on his back, wrapping your legs around his unfairly slim torso as you carefully put it on top of the tree.

"Perfect!" you exclaimed, bouncing up and down as he put you down again.

"Almost," Jake replied with a grin. "I have a surprise for you. Um… here, put these on," he gave you his glasses and you put them on, immediately blinking harshly.

"Jake, you are so blind!" you yelled as you rubbed your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I just didn't want you to see the gift!" he yelled back excitedly.

"You could've just told me to close my eyes!" you giggled, as you did that anyways. Glasses with the wrong prescription were a nightmare.

"Well, I see you're doing it anyways," he said, his voice closer than you expected, as you felt him reach out and take the glasses off on your face. "Open your eyes."

You opened them, blinking a few times before registering what he was holding – a little coffee cup ornament, that said 'I love you' on the side. You pounced on Jake and pulled him into a bone crushing hug, whispering "I love you too, dork," into his neck as he held you.

When you backed away, you could see his face was stretched into a grin. "I take it you like it?"

"I love it," you pecked his lips sweetly before taking it from him and hanging it on the tree.

You stepped away, your back leaning against Jake's chest as he leaned his head on your shoulder. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

"Merry Christmas," you answered back with a smile, tilting your head back to meet his lips in a gentle kiss.

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

hope you liked it!! sorry it was so late, it’s been a rough month (and year lol). heppy new years, i hope you have a safe and wonderful new year!<3

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#happyhoelidays2020 #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen fluff #chris evans fluff

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basicallywhiterice · 3 years

Text

on top of the world (dong sicheng/winwin)

pairing: sicheng/winwin x reader

genre: angst, fluff, flangst. friends to lovers, highschool!au, dancer!sicheng, spring break trip

summary: The fall to the ground doesn’t seem so daunting when you’re living on top of the world.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: cussing

a/n: if enough people get mad at me i’ll write a part 2

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

this can be read as a standalone, but it is part 1 in the on top of the world series. crossposted on ao3 here!

Chinatown, Washington, D.C., 7:01 p.m.

“Honest Abe? More like, honest babe,” Lucas hollers to Kun and no one in particular, drawing a few disgruntled looks from the pedestrians waiting for the walk signal to flash again. He winks at a man in a navy suit, who rolls his eyes and looks away. Yangyang reaches over for a high-five.

“Dude was 6′ 4″, of course he’s a babe,” Sicheng whistles, leaning behind Yangyang and craning his neck to steal glances at Kun’s phone.

To your right, Ningning flits around, snapping pictures of the street displays and assorted neon lights on the storefronts. You watch her alongside Giselle, who pops her bubblegum, periodically glancing at the traffic light at the bustling intersection. Standing shoulder to shoulder with you to your left, Kun rattles off a hodge-podge of facts about Abraham Lincoln and Ford’s Theatre, which you just passed by, from his phone screen to a faux-enthused Yangyang, who shakes Sicheng by the shoulders every time Kun reads a new fact. He occasionally gets pushed into Lucas’s side, rolling his eyes while doing little to hide the growing grin on his face.

“... and apparently they planned his assassination in the building the Wok n’ Roll restaurant we passed used to be,” Kun remarks.

“OH MY GOD SICHENG ISN’T THAT SO CRAZY?” Yangyang all but screams. “IT WAS IN THE WOK N’ ROLL!”

As you glance over fondly, your eyes linger on the orange hues and kaleidoscopic shadows the nearby “do not walk” signal spills over Sicheng’s face. After a moment, he looks away from Yangyang’s exaggerated bouncing. His gaze flits upwards, meeting your stolen glance with his own.

The world grinds to a halt beneath your feet when a strong gust of wind blows through your hair, propelling you into free fall into the depths of his eyes until Giselle tugs on your arm, pulling you back into the present.

She gestures toward the “walk” signal on the traffic light, and you fall in line with her quick footsteps as you stride across the crosswalk.

“We should go there later,” she suggests. “Try summoning Lincoln’s ghost or something.”

“The Wok n’ Roll?”

“Yeah. Do you think his ghost would have his top hat?”

“I thought ghosts were just spirits and didn’t take material possessions with them?”

“Yeah, but then every ghost would be naked, which would be hella inappropriate.”

Ningning overhears, skipping up to you and looping her arm through yours. “You have to prove the existence of ghosts and take them out to dinner before you get them naked, you pig.”

“I made yo momma sound like a ghost last night,” Lucas quips. “I skipped the ‘getting dinner’ part, though.”

“Goddamn,” Giselle exclaims as you burst into laughter, throwing jokes and jabs at each other for the rest of the trek to the ramen restaurant where you eat dinner.

Hilton Garden Inn, Washington, D.C., 9:13 p.m.

After helping Giselle and Ningning unpack, you knock on the communicating door between your hotel room and the boys’ in order to bother Kun.

Sicheng answers, moving aside so you can step across. Their room is surprisingly clean, although you chalk it up to the limited amount of time they had to unpack earlier today. Lucas sits at the desk in the corner near the window, hunched over his laptop while Yangyang peeks over his shoulder. You glimpse a few pictures of the Washington Monument on his screen before he scrolls down to other marble structures.

“Are you looking up other places to visit?” you ask him.

He glances up, cracking his neck before responding. “Yeah. I can’t find anything special that we don’t know about, though.”

“It’s boutta be lit,” Yanyang chimes in.

“Ayeee,” Lucas responds. They start aggressively patting each other on the back and arms, and you take that as your cue to leave before they wrestle you into whatever weird ritual they’re performing.

Turning, you see Sicheng flop down onto the bed closest to the windows where Kun lays, sprawled out. “Hey,” Kun greets, lifting his head from his pillows.

“Hey,” you reply, remembering the reason why you came to the room in the first place. “Oh yeah! I found a stop sign a few blocks from here on a decently busy street. It’ll take ten minutes to go there and back, tops.”

He groans. “I would love to go, but I just got a stomachache. Tell you what. Sicheng,” he says, propping himself up at a snail’s pace and clasping Sicheng’s shoulder, “you can accompany her there, right?”

“To a stop sign?” Sicheng asks, looking up from his phone.

“A hand-picked, top tier, magnificent stop sign,” you proclaim. “Whenever me and Kun travel, we always get a random passerby to take our picture in front of a stop sign like it’s a tourist attraction. Are you down for potential social awkwardness?”

The corner of Sicheng’s lips tugs up into a grin. “You know it. I’m not ruining your tradition with Kun, am I?” he asks, glancing sideways at Kun for confirmation.

Kun flops back down on the bed. “Nah. If I went right now, I’d probably ruin the tradition by shitting my pants there or something.”

Sicheng chuckles. “Promise? We could print out those pictures and mail them back to your parents like a postcard.”

“I like the way you think,” you say with a scheming smile, nodding at Sicheng before turning back to Kun. “Anyways, drink some warm water to help with your stomachache, maybe? What do you think caused it?”

He shrugs. “Not sure. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten that trashcan pizza slice in the subway.” Sicheng reaches over and flicks his forehead. “Ow! I’m kidding! Why would you torment a sick man like this? Go away and take your pictures already.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you ask as Sicheng asks, “You sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. Worst comes to worst, I’ll take a Pepto-Bismol in fifteen minutes. Go and have fun.” He waves you off, grabbing a spare pillow and lightly smacking Sicheng with it.

“Fine, mom.” Sicheng stands, pocketing his phone. “You ready? I just need to put on my shoes.”

“Yeah.” As he walks over to the closet, you sneak a peek at your reflection through your phone screen. Fighting back a sudden bundle of nerves, you discreetly smooth your t-shirt down, running a hand through your hair. Kun wiggles his eyebrows when he notices, and you flip him off, silently warning him to stay quiet.

He doesn’t. “Have fun on your date with loverboy,” he whispers.

“Shut up.”

“After you leave, should I check out the pool?” he murmurs. “Lucas and Yangyang said they don’t feel like swimming tonight.”

“What, isn’t your stomach—”

“Oh my, would you look at the time? Off you go!” He shoos you away, almost standing up to push you away and laying back down before Sicheng can turn around. You’re almost impressed by how well he set you up.

Still, though. If Kun weren’t your best friend, you’d shove him into the hotel’s fountain.

H Street Northwest, Washington D.C., 9:40 p.m.

Half an hour later, you give up on the facade of collecting anti-tourist pictures after the third stop sign, stopping by the Chinatown Express to grab a bowl of noodles with roast duck to go. You walk for a few blocks before finding a bench to sit and split it at, slurping them up in an appreciative silence.

“Oh my god,” Sicheng intones around a mouthful of noodles. When you look over, his cheeks are puffed, an empty spoon descending to rest inside the soup container.

“You look like one of those baby birds eating scraps,” you giggle.

“I’m certainly skilled with chicks,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, then scoot closer to pick up a piece of roast duck. Your knees touch, but neither of you move away. “Do you think there’s a more advanced form of life than humans, like aliens, and they view us how we view animals?” you ask, resuming the conversation you had about the meaning of life before you sat down. “Like we don’t think birds could become self-aware, no matter how intelligent they are, so then we can’t achieve the alien version of self-awareness no matter how philosophical we get.”

“Good question. Uh, alien self-awareness would probably relate to the meaning of life or something, right? Or the secrets of the universe and breaking the laws of physics. And because they’re so big brained, they could control things with their minds and be enlightened with telekinesis. So hypothetically, if I were a wise, sagely alien,” he says, gently picking up your hand and laying it flat against his palm, “I could make my hand pass through yours if I had enough brainpower.”

His hand is warm, and you hope furiously that your palms aren’t sweating. “Was this another excuse to hold my hand?”

“Well, did it work?”

You raise your eyebrows and fail at biting back your smile. “You already know, you just want to hear me say it.”

He grins. “Then say it!”

“Yes, Sicheng, it worked.”

“Awesome.” He moves his right hand to pick up his spoon, briefly tugging your hand with him until he realizes. “Fuck. Sorry, I have to let go of your hand while I eat. Unless you wanna see me struggle with my left hand.”

“As much as I’d love to watch you do that, I feel like that’d be an insult to the rest of the noodles.”

When you finally remember to stand up and throw away the long-forgotten remnants of your food, he holds your hand carefully but firmly as you walk past the White House, and you imagine his hold on your heart must feel the same.

Lafayette Square, Washington, D.C., 11:16 p.m.

“Dance with me,” Sicheng pleads, pulling you under a streetlight. You nod, but your feet stay cemented on the brick-paved sidewalk.

“I don’t know how to.”

“That’s fine.” You place your hand in his outstretched one, and he lifts your other hand to rest on his shoulder. “No one’s around to judge, so just do whatever.”

“Wise words,” you deadpan, but you let his hand on your waist guide your swaying.

He’s right, though. After the initial awkwardness fades, you find that waltzing around isn’t so bad after all—especially when he twirls you around the pocket of light underneath the lamppost so gently it feels like you’re dancing on air.

And when he dips you as you throw your head back, laughing, you think you finally understand why his eyes light up every time he finishes a dance performance.

“Is this what you love about dancing?” you ask once you’ve come back up.

He nods, eyes closing briefly. “Partly. The grand choreographies are the showstoppers, but the simpler moments keep me sane.” His eyes flutter open. “I haven’t let anyone see me dance with such bad technique in a while. I’m usually not this bad, I promise.”

“I know,” you grin. “I saw you at the winter showcase. You were amazing.” Then you take a deep breath, and brace for the worst. “The lyrical piece you closed with was the one you used for your audition, right?”

“Yeah, I—yeah.”

Abruptly, he releases your hands and steps back. You allow yourself to feel a twinge of guilt for mentioning the elephant in the room before you steel yourself for the impending conversation.

“We should probably talk about that,” he says.

“We should. Do you want to walk around the National Mall? You said you liked it earlier today.”

“Sure.”

The walk is quiet enough for you to overthink. Sicheng got accepted by a dance studio in Korea, after months of submitting auditions and traveling back and forth between countries. He’s leaving soon, even if he says he’s still waiting to hear back from Juilliard and keeping his options open. You see it in the goodbyes he keeps subconsciously saying and the memories he drinks in like it’s his last chance to, and you’re terrified of what your life will look like without him.

You glance over at him periodically, and he seems to be lost in thought too, staring straight ahead down the well-lit path. His eyebrows furrow as you pass under a streetlight, and you wonder if you brought it up the wrong way.

You’re disappointed in the crude way you shoved the future into a perfectly happy moment, then mad that you’re disappointed. It was inevitable that you’d have to talk about what would come after graduation, and it was inevitable that he’d have to remove himself from your side to chase after his dreams. It’s a wonder he hasn’t pulled away already.

Stupid, you chide yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid, loving so hard that your chest implodes from all the weight it carries, already drifting through the pangs of hurt and the wisps of melancholy bringing about a premature nostalgia.

“I’m really going to miss you next year,” Sicheng confesses out of the blue.

You glance up. His hands are shoved into his pants pockets, his eyes roaming over your face like he’s trying to remember all the secrets it hides.

You think you might always run back to him. You’re not sure how to feel about that.

National Mall, Washington, D.C., 11:33 p.m.

“So.”

“So,” you echo. “Have you looked at decisions yet?” It’s a pointless question. You know he’s not going to Juilliard.

“Yeah, I looked at them this afternoon in the theater.” He clears his throat. “I got waitlisted.”

“Ah.”

“I’m not going to accept a spot on the waitlist.”

“Why not?”

He shrugs. “I had made my decision anyway.” Then he sighs, his nonchalant facade dropping for good. “You can probably guess.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m accepting the studio’s offer,” he whispers, as if the air is glass and the moment could shatter at any moment. The words float there, above your head, and you imagine grabbing them and hugging them close to your chest before they slip away.

You don’t. “I figured.”

“Yeah. You knew.”

You stare ahead and will the tears not to fall.

“I’m leaving as soon as school ends,” he says, with the sideways glance that marks the start of his rambling distraction process, “and flying there on—”

“I’m gonna miss you,” you blurt. He pauses mid-sentence. “I’m gonna miss you like crazy. Can we talk about this, for real? You can tell me all the details later, I just—please,” and your voice cracks, “don’t dismiss this.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

A blink, and the first teardrop traces its way down your face.

You waste away the hours of your stolen youth with a boy who wipes your tears away and comforts you over the future that you’ll no longer be a part of.

National Mall, Washington, D.C., 11:57 p.m.

“Before I leave,” Sicheng says, scuffing the heels of his shoes on the gravel pathway, “I know I’d regret it if I didn’t say something. I mean, I’m going to leave anyways, so why not, you know? I have to say something before I’m gone. Um, so, you know this by now, but I… I—” and you already know what’s coming.

“Stop. I know what you’re going to say. Give me a minute to think.”

You make the mistake of glancing up at him, his eyes wide and shining. “Yeah. Alright. Take all the time you need, please.”

In half a year, Sicheng will be gone and you will be left to pick up the pieces of your life that don’t involve him, piecing them together the best you can and carrying on like there isn’t a hole in your heart.

“I’m in love with you.” One thud of your heartbeat. Then another. “Sicheng.”

In half a year, this chance will be long gone, and if you let it slip through your fingers without grabbing on, you’ll never forgive yourself for letting Sicheng become your biggest what-if.

“I’m in love with you too.” He raises his hand to cradle your face in his palm. “Y/n.”

“I’ve wanted to say that for a while now.”

“Me too. It’s not just because I’m leaving, you know.” You nod, his palm momentarily pressing against your cheek. “You knew.”

“Yeah.”

You stare up at him, the boy who wears his heart on his sleeve and holds entire galaxies in his eyes.

“What are we?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“How do you feel about dating?”

You freeze like a deer in headlights. “Dating?”

“Yeah, would you? Like to date me?”

And then Sicheng turns into a what-if again. “I don’t know,” you confess. “I don’t know if I could handle the split.”

“We don’t have to break up when I leave. We could do long distance,” he suggests, but it sounds flimsy even to your ears.

“I don’t know, Sicheng. I don’t want to end up losing you.”

“I know. We don’t have to, especially if you don’t want to.”

You nod once in acknowledgment, and then you’re stepping into his arms again. He holds you securely, stroking your hair and waiting for you to collect your thoughts.

“I wish we had more time,” you whisper into his shoulder an eternity later. “Could we have been doing this earlier?”

“It would’ve been too fast,” he reasons, and you’re inclined to agree. “We didn’t really… not until this year…”

“Yeah.” You’ve known Sicheng for years and have been close with him for months, but you only fell in love with each other when it was too late. “I wish we started hanging out sooner.”

“Maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way.”

“Maybe.”

You pull back enough to glance up at him, gaze dropping to his lips at the close proximity before immediately bringing it back up. His eyes follow the movement, a smile creeping up his face.

“One kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?” he asks, and he says it so earnestly that it’s hard to believe he’d be wrong.

“It wouldn’t,” you agree. His nose bumps with yours and you blink up at him once, twice, and then you’re leaning in until the faraway sounds of the city fade away. He’s purposeful and patient and when all you can think of is the brush of his lips against yours, it’s just you and him against the world.

One kiss might not hurt, but one turns to two and two turns to too many and when you finally pull away and stare into his eyes, dazed, your lips tingle from the ghost of his mouth on yours.

At that moment, the way his mouth slowly stretches into a grin does something to your heart, and you think you’d let it break a million times just to be the cause of his smile.

“Yes, Sicheng. Let’s date.”

He kisses you again, beaming so wide that his teeth knock against your lips and pulling you closer, almost picking you up in the process.

You wonder if you made the wrong decision.

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sorryimanon · 4 years

Text

A Bit Stir Crazy: Pt 1

Summary: You’re bit of a hot head, so is Bakugou. So what happens when the two of you have to quarantine together for 30 days?

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, sexual tension, inevitable smut, slow burn.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!Reader

Spring finally makes it way to the city of Musutafu, which also means spring break is about to commence. There was only two days left of school before the students endure a week break of relaxation and the possibility of illegal drinking. However, the sudden outbreak of a deadly virus isolates you and your best friend of five years , Katsuki Bakugou, to quarantine together. Tensions are high, and so are both of your sex drive.

<<<

It was your second semester here at Hero University, and so far everything was smooth sailing. You’ve been on top of each of your classes, and most of your classmates are pretty much family by now. Of course, no one can replace Kirishima and Katsuki. Those two have been in your life since the second you stepped into Aziwa’s classroom. 5 years of friendship gave them the role of being your protective brothers. Every guy you’ve dated over the past 3 years had to face the wrath of both Kirishima and Katsuki. In most cases, some would find this possessiveness tedious, but you found it quite comforting knowing they are looking out for you. They were also hard on you and your studies, but only because they care for you. Both of them know about your dream of being a combat medic for pro-heroes, considering your energy restoration quirk, so they were extra tough on you.

However, everything came to a halt the day before spring break. You were currently in Advanced Hero History class when the announcement happened. The teacher, mid lecture, put her textbook down and glanced at the speaker above the door.

“Testing...1 2 3... this thing is working right? AHEM, attention students of Hero University, we’ve been told there’s recently been a sudden outbreak of a virus that’s described as deadly as the plaque!” The speakers voice reverberated across the whole academy. He continued,” We want to make sure that everyone is safe and sound and takes precaution of this virus. The board of admissions at HU have decided to cancel classes and all events at the university tomorrow-”

You didn’t get to hear the rest of the announcement. Everyone in the classroom was busy celebrating and screaming at the top of their lungs. Seems like the issue with the deadly virus evaporated immediately. The thought of getting out early for spring break was more important apparently.

Ms.Leech informed the class to still read the assigned chapters and be ready for a test the first day after break.

You quickly shoved everything your messenger bag and made a beeline to the door. The hallways were far from deserted. Usually classes don’t get out at the same time, but today every student occupied the cramped halls in the building.

“Y/N!” Someone yelled amidst the crowd of loud students. You overtly looked around and spotted the all too familiar spiky red hair and angry looking blonde by the exit. You giggled and maneuvered your way over to them.

“Did you hear the announcement! We get an early spring break!” Kirishima giddily said as you guys all walked side by side on the strip to the apartment complex.

“No shit Sherlock, the announcement was broadcasted across the whole school.” Bakugou responded while rolling his eyes.

“I’m so excited though! That means I have more time to study for my exams!” You jumped with excitement.

“Exams? That’s not for awhile you fucking nerd-” Bakugou was cut off when you grabbed a handful of his hair and aggressively pulled it. “YOU SHITTY WOMAN DON’T TOUCH MY HAIR!”

Spring break flashed by quickly, leaving only a day left before classes begin again. Thankfully, you seem to have checked everything off your list of things needed to be accomplished during break. The only thing you had left to do was finish your reading for adv.hero history.

After an endless hour of reading, you decided to make a hot pot of coffee. When you walked into the kitchen of your shared apartment with Kirishima and Katsuki, you noticed a sticky note hanging from the fridge.

It read,

Went to go pick up Kirishima from the airport. Get take out plz. The usual

-B.

You smiled and immediately dialed the noodle shop to go. Kirishima used his spring break wisely and went to visit an exotic island with his family. He would FaceTime you and Bakugo occasionally telling funny stories about his time on the island. Although the thought never occurred at the time, you now felt like you wasted your spring break doing boring mundane things. Yes you had Katsuki to accompany you, but he was gone most of the time hanging out with his other friends. Which hurt, granted, but you understand that he has other friends besides you. Needless to say, you didn’t do that much “relaxation” during spring break.

Suddenly, your phone started going off on the countertop. Katsuki’s name flashing on the screen. Confused, you answered his call anyway, not thinking much of it.

“Y/N turn on the news now,” His said with urgency.

You didn’t argue back, knowing something is off, and raced to the living room. The tv was already on, so you just changed the channels till it reached the local news station. With the volume at its maximum, you sat still and listened to the news anchor.

“This just in, Japan has issued a nationwide lockdown due to the spread of the deadly virus. We’ve been told to report for all citizens to please stay in your homes till further notice. And as for anyone who has left the country, you’ll be permitted to stay within the country you’ve flown to and wait till further instructions...”

Oh shit

“Hey hey guys don’t worry I’ll be fine. I mean, isn’t this great news! We don’t have to go to our scheduled classes till further notice! Plus, I think I can score my shot with the maid here at my hotel for the time being,” Kirishima gloated with pure positivity.

“Baka. You do realize there’s a fucking virus going around right? Not to mention there’s a possibility you could die from it.” Bakugou said, trying to throw some common sense at Kiri.

“Right right right. Yes I do know...but that’s not going to stop me from getting laid bro.”

That was one of the few FaceTime calls you got from Kiri. After the third, he stopped calling all together. You grew worrisome for your best friend. Even though he doesn’t show it, Bakugou was worried sick not hearing from Kiri either.

It’s been 5 days since the initial lockdown. So far, you and Bakugou have been doing each of your usual routines at home. First thing in the morning you always prepared breakfast and read a few chapters from your current book. Bakugo did laundry duty and did the dishes after breakfast. Afternoon was just recreational duties. Both you and Bakugou would reside in your rooms doing whatever to ease off the bordem. Evenings were mainly for eating dinner and watching movies.

However, after 10 days, you couldn’t keep up with the routine anymore. You skipped breakfast and didn’t dare to open up another book. Your bedroom became a reminder on how much you’ve spent cooped up in there. Not to mention how easily angered you’ve become.

One day you got angry at how Bakugou was chewing his food. Usually it never irritated you, but now the sight just made your blood boil.

“Who the fuck taught you how to eat?” You spat abruptly.

“Says the person who forgets to clean the tub after they shave their whole entire jungle of a body,” he retored back.

A faint gasp left your mouth, uaware that you completely forgot to clean the tub last night after your feminine duties.

“Don’t know who you’re trying to look presentable for. It’s not like you got a boyfriend, not with all that hair, tch.” he hit you with one last punch to the gut.

You got up from where you were sitting at and begrudgingly walked to your bedroom, locking it in the process. Not daring to leave your room, you open your laptop and started a movie without Bakugou.

Out of all days, day 15 by far was the worst. The air conditioner unit stopped working, causing y’all to wake up with drenched bodies. Your room especially was humid, since you had no access to a window. The colored coordinated folders from your book bag had to suffice, using them as makeshift fans. Eventually your arms grew tired of constantly doing the same motion repeatedly, so you finally left your room in hopes for the living room to be much cooler.

You stopped immediately when you caught a glimpse of Bakugou slumped on the L-shaped couch. Not to mention, he was shirtless as well. Heat flushed to your cheeks, making you glow a crimson red. You couldn’t stop staring at the view in front of you. Yes you’ve seen Bakugou shirtless before. Countless of times in fact. The boys would practically walk naked around the apartment, not caring about how you’d react. You were deemed as one of the guys.

But this time it triggered something within you. Something you haven’t quite felt in a long time. Maybe it was the quarantine getting to your head, but you couldn’t help but to wonder how it would feel to be flushed against his naked chest right now. Or if he was the type to snake his hands around your waist and pull you even closer. The thought excited you for a second, but quickly realized this was Katsuki you were thinking about.

Katsuki shifted uncomfortably in his spot, eliciting a whimper during the process. The noise alone made your lower stomach tense with a warm sensation. This was creepy. Watching Bakugou shirtless while sleeping would surly make him go ballistic, but the sight of sweat glistening on his abdomen made his abs more prominent. An image of you being underneath him kept flashing in your head like picture show. A crude and undeniably satisfying picture show. More explicit thoughts kept trying to barge into your brain. So, you ran back into your room and planted yourself headfirst on the floor. Hopefully these thoughts will go away by tomorrow

The thoughts never went away. In fact, they were the reason you didn’t get any sleep last night. A half naked Bakugou Katsuki kept interrupting your innocent dreams, filling them in with dirty scenarios involving the both of you. You knew you were fucked once you heard the faint sound of Katsukis footsteps in the kitchen. You’ve been up all night, with no pure dream in mind. There’s no saving your sleep schedule now. Maybe if you apologize to Katsuki for acting irrational the other day, the thoughts would go away.

Defeated, you got up from your comfortable bed and treaded into unsafe territory. There sat Bakugo, criss cross on the kitchen island eating cereal. It wasn’t an unusual sight, he was the embodiment of a fucking cat.

“Morning shit head,” you playfully teased.

Bakugou raised his head and looked expectingly at you.

Even just looking him dead in the eye raised the temperature throughout your body. This is going to be a nightmare.

“You alright Y/N? Your whole face is flushed...” He paused, eyeing you suspiciously. “You’re not sick are you? If so, I’m kicking you out. I don’t wanna fucking die because of you”.

How charming.

You scratched the back of your neck. “Uh no Katsuki, I just wanted to apologize for the other day. My behavior towards you was unacceptable. This whole quarantine thing has really made me-”

“Shut up. No need to apologize for some stupid quarrel we got into. Besides, we’ve gotten into worse arguments right?”

You nodded your head, agreeing to how truthful his statement was. It was true. 5 years of friendship and not one time have you guys stopped being friends because of a heated argument.

“Exactly, don’t sweat about it. I’m just glad you finally came out of your hole. I missed my movie buddy.” He gave you a lopsided grin, to which on cue, your stomach tied itself into a knot.

“Great, because I found a movie last night on my queue that I think you’d like” You beamed as you started making yourself a bowl cereal. Katsuki grunted as a response and leaped off from the island.

You were too busy focusing on making the cereal that you didn’t hear the faint thump of footsteps behind you. Then, almost as some sort of harsh punishment, Katsuki rested his head between your right shoulder blade. He hummed once he felt your body tense up. His lips were merely inches away from your outer ear. Any other movement from him and you wouldn’t hesitate to throw the gallon of milk at his head. But what he said next caused your whole face to turn pallid.

“Also, its kind of rude to watch someone sleeping don't cha think?” he whispered before throwing his bowl into the sink beside you.

At that moment you knew, you were completely fucked.

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo katuski #katsuki x you #katsuki smut #bnha bakugou #bnha fanfiction #bakugo imagine #bnha fic #kacchan #ao3 bakugou #bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x you

281 notes · View notes

mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

History comes to life; Ahkmenrah x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well this has been a LOOOOONG time coming in. For years I’ve alwasy wanted to try and write an Ahkmenrah fanfic and thanks to a Wattpad friend of mine, she gave me that chance. So here we are with my first Ahkmenrah fanfic. Now this is only part 1 and I’ll try to have pt.2 up as soon as I can. Hope you all enjoy this fic my lovelies :)

UPDATE: PART 2 IS HERE

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@dancingcoolcat

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@kairosfreddie

@queendeakyy

@geek-and-proud

@simonedk

________________________________________________________

2006. New York City. The Museum of Natural History. My home away from home. I mean to a college girl going for a master’s degree history that’s a lot, and all at the age of 23. Yeah whenever it came to school I was always deemed the ‘smart one’ or in some cases the ‘nerd’.

Was Valedictorian in high school, completed my bachelor’s degree within my first 2 years of college and now I’m completing a 4 year master’s degree. Not only that but I once did an entire year abroad in Egypt as a part of one of my courses that gave me 3 credits for one of my History courses.

And now here I am completing an internship credit instead of going for a core course credit, here at the Museum of Natural History. So far into my second week of my three month internship it’s been pretty good. Since I’m also having to write my dissertation about the ruling of Ahkmenrah, this place has been a great place to think.

Whenever I wasn’t needed by the boss, Dr. McPhee, you would normally find me in the Ancient Egypt hall, sitting in the room of the pharaoh himself writing my paper. And I know it sounds crazy but sometimes I wish that I could actually have the chance to speak with him, I mean if I’m to complete my dissertation I wish to know things that I didn’t already know (there’s only so much you can find on the Internet).

Little did I know that that day would soon come, and it all started with a blast from the past.

I was currently walking down the steps after completing my day here at the museum when I saw walking with Cecil, one of the three night guards an old ‘boss’ you could say.

“Well I’ll be damned. Larry Daley.” I greeted as I came up to them.

“Oh hey, hi uhh…..” ahh the same old Larry forgetful Daley.

“(Y/n) (l/n). I used to live down the road from you guys.”

“Oh right sorry! Wow it’s been a long time.”

“Yeah about 3 years since I graduated high school.” I said with a smile.

“So I see you know our new nightguard huh Ms. (l/n)?” asked Cecil.

“Yeah I’ve babysit his son since the day he was born. How is Nicky by the way?”

“Oh he’s you know good. Fine. Loving hockey.”

“Oh that boy and his hockey. I remember he tried to get me to play it in the house and we ended up breaking that lamp.”

“Yeah thanks for reporting that.”

“Even though he tried to convince me not to speak of it.” I giggled. “So Cecil says you’re going to be the new night guard?”

“Yep. Just showing Larry around, giving him a little tour before his shift tomorrow night.” Cecil explained.

“Well, welcome to the team.”

“So do you work here too?”

“Oh no I’m just here for an internship credit but Dr. McPhee has allowed me to do further researching even after my internship’s up.”

“Read her dissertation a couple of days ago, she’s quite the researcher. Any further questions you can always ask her.” Cecil said.

“Oh Cecil you old charmer stop it. Well I better get out of here before traffic gets too crazy. Bye Cecil, Mr. Daley, welcome aboard again and I hope to see you before your shift tomorrow.”

“Yeah of course, see yah then (y/n).” I smiled and gave the gentlemen a nod goodbye before bundling up and walking out into the New York winter air.

I was now at home typing up what I had written down on paper and transferred it to the rest of my dissertation that was on Word. I heard my door open and in came in my mom and she said.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay mama, just half a minute and I’ll have everything typed up.”

“Sweetie you’ve been working non-stop ever since you got home. You can step aside for ten minutes to eat dinner.” I looked up at her then saved the changes I had and said.

“Fine mama, you win.” She grinned down and said to me.

“I always do. Until you become a mother yourself, you’ll never win.” I scowled up at her before the two of us walked out of my room and headed downstairs to eat.

As we ate our dinner, I told her about my progress and about Mr. Daley now working for the museum as the new nightguard.

“Wow, Larry Daley. Hadn’t heard from him in a while. Not since the official divorce.”

“Wait what?”

“Oh honey I’m sorry to tell you this but Larry and Erica were going through a divorce this past year.”

“Ahh man. How’s Nicky taking it?” I asked.

“Well last time I ever talked to Larry he told me it was a joint custody agreement. Now whether that went through or not I’m not sure.”

“It must’ve, I mean he did say Nicky was still playing hockey so that must mean he gets to have Nicky at least some days of the week, maybe the weekends.”

“Erica was always hard on him. Even when they first got together. Don’t tell her I said that though.”

“I promise mom.”

After dinner, I took the dishes and cleaned them out before placing them in the dishwasher before going back to my paper. Before I even knew it when I finally ran out of ideas and edits, I saw that it was after midnight. So after saving everything I shut my laptop off and got ready for bed.

The next day it was like any other day. I went in, did my rounds for Dr. McPhee, organized some files and edited some papers. Then after my lunch break I had time to do my paper for the final 4 hours of my day today. Even with the small crowd of people in the Pharaoh’s tomb, I wasn’t really bothered or distracted from doing my dissertation.

In fact I was so invested into it that I almost didn’t hear the voice speak over me.

“Hard worker as ever.” I looked up and smiled at Mr. Daley.

“So, ready for your first night tonight?”

“I don’t think it should be that hard. I mean not really anything happens in a museum at night.”

“Do you got a second? Just wanted to see if you’re interested in a cup of coffee. Colleague to colleague?”

“So not just for the sake of me being your old babysitter? Is that all I am to you now, just a colleague?”

“No. I mean yes. But not in that way I mean I was just…..” I laughed and said.

“I’m just pulling your buttons Mr. Daley. I’d love to get a cup of coffee. Maybe even educate you on what you’ll be guarding.” I packed up my stuff and we both headed out to the coffeeshop just down the block from the museum.

As we walked around Central Park he asked me.

“So that paper you were writing earlier, what’s it on?”

“Oh it’s my dissertation paper for my master’s degree.”

“Masters?! Wait so you already got your bachelor’s?”

“Yeah. I got it just last year. Now for my masters I’m doing the full 4 years so in total I’ll be doing 6 years of college.”

“Wow, sounds exhausting.”

“It can be, but I can’t help it. I’ve got a thirst for knowledge. And as an ancient civilizations concentrator I can’t help but want more.”

“Yep your mom always did call you her little book worm.” I smiled and nodded. “So that paper.”

“Oh yes that. Well I’m doing my dissertation on the ruling of Ahkmenrah and how he was the most justified ruler Ancient Egypt had ever known. Sure there have been good pharaoh’s but I’m setting to prove just how fair and just Ahkmenrah truly was as a ruler. Even with his short time as king.”

“How long did he rule?”

“Well he was given the crown by his father when he was just 16 and ruled for only 4 years before he was murdered by his own brother.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, his brother was extremely jealous of Ahkmenrah. So much so that after murdering his brother, he tried to claim the throne only to throw Egypt into despair in just under a year of his ruling.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Ahkmenrah sought to treat everyone with a kind but firm hand when need be. Did you know that he was the only pharaoh known to be kind to the Hebrew slaves?”

“I did not.”

“Yeah. He even tried to seek out a fair system where they wouldn’t have to work on their sacred holidays. Of course it wasn’t passed yet because well—he died just before he could declare it a law.”

“Wow, things would’ve turned out very differently had that happened.”

“Yeah. Cecil’s also been a good resource too since he was there when he found his tomb when he was just a kid.”

“Cecil found Ahkmenrah’s tomb?”

“Yeah. The three sarcophagus’ of him and his parents.”

“But wait I thought you said he had a brother?”

“He was. His brother wasn’t buried with them. Kahmunrah was condemned to be mummified alive and buried in a tomb far beyond the royal family’s because of what he had done.”

“Wow that’s—horrifying. Don’t they like rip their guts out or something?”

“All their organs were placed into jeweled canopic jars.”

“Wow. I think I lost my appetite to drink this coffee now.”

“Sorry Mr. Daley, I can be a little assertive when describing some of the things the Ancient Egyptians did. But you should’ve seen me when I actually got to set foot in an actual mummification area.”

“So you actually went to Egypt?”

“Yeah last year during my bachelor’s degree last spring. I spent an entire semester down there. Learned a lot, and I can speak a little Arabic. Ancient Egyptian is a little rusty but I know like a word or two.”

“So if you could, could you read what’s written around the tomb of Ahkmenrah?”

“Now you’re really challenging me Mr. Daley.”

“Thought you said you loved a challenge?” I chuckled.

“That I did. But sadly no. Probably a word or two as I said.” I looked down at my watch and said. “It’s almost sunset, better get back to the museum less you wanna get fired on your first day. I’ll check in on you first thing tomorrow.”

“Okay, thanks for the little history lesson on the pharaoh (y/n).”

“Anytime. And here, give me your phone.” He handed it to me and I went through his contacts to see if he still had my number. Turns out he didn’t so I went ahead and gave him my new number since I got a new phone. “Here, any questions or concerns or if you just wanna chat. Give me a call.”

“Thanks (y/n). Anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

“Give me a chance to see that knucklehead Nicky again and we’ll call it even.”

“Will do.”

“Well good luck Larry.”

“Thanks.” I waved goodbye and walked back towards the nearest exit and hailed down a taxi and told them my address.

As I lay down in my bed after typing up the next several pages of my paper, I charged up my flip phone since it was almost dead from this week’s use.

“Hope Larry’s liking his new job. I’d give anything to stay the night in that place.” I stretched myself out and cuddled into my bed before falling asleep.

Bright and early the next morning I got around and headed on out of the house.

“Mama I’m heading out!” I cried out.

“Have a good day sweetie, give my love to Larry for me.”

“Will do mama.” I gathered up my stuff and took the bus toward the museum.

Once I got there, I entered inside just to see Mr. Daley walk out.

“So how was the first night?” he looked at me like he had just been through a rumble with Mike Tyson or the Rock as he said.

“Well I—”

“Dad.” A young boy’s voice said. We both turned to see Nicky walking with another man with short black hair and looked younger than Mr. Daley.

“Hey, hey buddy. What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh Erica had to be in court early today so I’m taking Mr. Big stuff here to school. But he wanted to swing by see your new job.” The man explained with a smile.

“It’s so awesome that you’re working here.” Nicky praised.

“Well your dad gets a praise but I don’t get so much as a hello?” I teased.

“(Y/n)!” he came up and hugged me and I hugged the little monkey back. “Do you work here too?”

“No I’m just here as an intern for a couple of months.”

“So Nicky whose your friend here?” the man asked.

“Right, (y/n) this is Don. Erica’s new uhh…well he’s her new….” Larry tried to explain but Don butted in by saying with a business man snake-like smile.

“I’m her boyfriend. So you’re the famous (y/n) the babysitter I’ve heard about.”

“Yeah. So you’re the new guy huh?” I looked over him once over and all I saw was a monkey in a suit with an earpiece to his ear.

“Yeah.” He shrugged like it was nothing. “Hey Nicko. Wanna take a lookie-do inside. Maybe your dad or your friend can give you a VIP tour?”

“You know what we’re actually kinda slammed this morning but I promise I’ll show you around soon bud, deal?”

“Deal. Love you dad.”

“Love you too.” Nicky hugged his dad and Mr. Daley gave Nick a kiss on the top of his head before he and Don walked hand in hand across the crosswalk before heading towards his school. “Yeah Erica and I are going through a—”

“I know, mom told me the other night. I’m so sorry. You both seemed really happy together.”

“Yeah well sometimes life happens. I’m just thankful I get Nick on Wednesdays and every other weekend.” He said solemnly as he kept his eyes on Nicky.

“Were you really thinking about quitting?”

“How did you…..”

“I’ve seen that walk so many times with my friends. Hell I’ve even done that walk before once at the Library of Congress. So c’mon Mr. Daley the truth.”

“Last night was……intense I’ll admit. But I really want Nick to be proud of me, and not see me as…..ordinary.”

“As Teddy Roosevelt once said, ‘some men are born great, others have greatness thrust upon them’. Maybe this is your moment. Look I know being the night guard may not be the funniest job ever for you. But don’t do it for yourself, do it for Nicky.” I said as I placed my hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me and said.

“You truly were the best babysitter Nicky ever had. No wonder how he got so wise.”

“History geek, you get great life quotes. Not just from Star Wars or Lord of the Rings.” I then skipped up the steps and walked inside.

“Oi intern!” I sighed heavily. Even after 2 weeks he never really does call me by my name.

“Yes Dr. McPhee?”

“The Egyptian tour guide called in sick this morning, I want you to take over his shift. You’ve got the better resume to give a tour with your year abroad. So do it.”

“Yes Dr. McPhee.”

“And see to it that the children don’t touch the exhibit. God I hate it when those sticky little monsters think a museum is a-a-a-a-a…..touchy place.” He then turned away mumbling to himself.

“Out of all the bosses I’ve had, he’s by far the goofiest and strictest. But it’s better than organizing files again.” I then went up and Rebecca handed me my Egyptian tour guidance flag and I waited for the first wave of guests which was in fact kids from the middle school I went to years ago.

When the class arrived I greeted them and told them my name and that I would be their tour guide today. I walked them through the Egyptian wing before finally leading them to the tomb of the Pharaoh.

“Now we are finally arriving into the tomb of the pharaoh himself. King Ahkmenrah was known as one of the youngest pharaohs to rule in the Upper kingdom of Egypt in 232 BC. He was even the first pharaoh to be crowned above his older sibling.” It was then I had a young girl raise her hand. “Yes sweetheart?”

“What are these statues?” she gestured towards the 20ft. jackal guards.

“Ahh those are the Anubis guards. The Egyptian god Anubis, Lord of the dead is said to be the judge of the underworld. He would deem by balancing your soul on a scale with sand and if your soul weighed heavier than the sand, you would be damned in the underworld. But if your soul was lighter, you’d be granted peace in the afterlife. His guards which you see up there are the protectors of bodies, especially over the royal families tombs.” I got another hand raise this time from a black child.

“Do the mummy’s really get wrapped up in toilet paper?” at that the kids all laughed, to which I couldn’t help but laugh.

“No. No it’s not toilet paper. They get wrapped in special linen which is sorta like a gauze wrap. How many of you had an injury and your parents would wrap your injury with a sorta white bandage?” I got a few hands raised. “It’s basically that. But before they wrap up the bodies, they expose the body to a type of oil and salt to de-moisturize the body so that it could be preserved from the elements.” Another boy asked.

“What exactly is that gold thing up there?” I looked up and I said.

“Ahh that my dear boy is the tablet of Ahkmenrah himself. It arrived here at this museum in 1952 from the Nile expedition. It is said to bring the dead back to life.”

“Yeah right.” The boy sassed back. Kids today, so desensitized by movies and television.

“It’s a legend but never mock the powers of Egyptian magic. Okay kids, why don’t you have a look around and check him out. But please don’t touch the stone slab.” I then walked aside and the kids all gathered around Ahkmenrah’s sarcophagus. “If only it were real.” I muttered as I sat down and rested my feet.

The day dragged on until finally I was clear to go home. I decided that for tonight, I would leave my dissertation for next time and just immediately go to bed. I covered myself up with my thick warm blanket and was out like a light.

The next day it was just about closing time and once again I was in the tomb of Ahkmenrah. I stared down at his sarcophagus sighing softly.

“Excuse me miss, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to vacate the premises.” I jolted slightly but when I turned around I saw that it was only Mr. Daley.

“Oh sorry, just—kinda got caught up in my thoughts is all.” He switched his flashlight off and walked up to me.

“So this whole Egyptian stuff really—gets to you doesn’t it?”

“Ancient Egypt has probably been one of my most favorite ancient civilization. It’s just fascinating of how the Egyptians were able to build things like the pyramids, the sphinx, and intricate tombs that have endless passages in order to trap graverobbers when they didn’t have the technology we have today. It’s amazing.”

“Yeah, guess that is kinda cool.” We stood there side by side in brief silence before he said, “Hey (y/n), do you really believe History comes to life?”

“I mean yes. In a way all around us we are always being given knowledge of every historical moment. And this museum helps us to actually in a way live through it.”

“I mean do you truly believe that history can come to life?”

“I—don’t get what you’re saying Larry.”

“I mean that…..I tried to tell Rebecca this earlier but she ran off on me. She thought I was making fun of her but I really wasn’t I’m telling the truth, I told her the truth.”

“What truth?” he looked around before he leaned close to me and whispered.

“Everything in this museum comes to life. At night. All because of that tablet. Ever since they brought it here back in 1952, everything in this museum came to life.” I looked at him before saying.

“Uhh—have you been overworking yourself again?”

“No, no I swear to you (y/n) I’m not lying.”

“Look, your shift’s about to start and I should really get going. We’ll—talk about this tomorrow. Goodnight Mr. Daley.” I quickly walked around him but I could hear him trying to call out to me.

As I exited the museum I began thinking back to what he was saying. I mean I know I said that there could be a slight chance that the tablet of Ahkmenrah could hold some magic but this—this is something else. I hailed a cab and asked him to drive me back to my place and in just 10 minutes I arrived back home.

As it got darker and snow began to fall from the sky, what Larry had told me earlier this evening was still spinning in my head. I mean what he said was absolutely crazy, if he was implying that the figurines, statues, and the actual pharaoh himself can come to life at night—he was even crazier than when I first met him.

Suddenly something was thrown at my window. I gasped and turned on my lamp to see the leftover remains of a snowball. I got up from my bed and looked out the window to see some figures standing down along the sidewalk.

From the streetlights I could see that it was Larry and Nicky but along with them were two others. One was dressed up as an Egyptian pharaoh and the other was dressed like Attila the Hun. I put on my coat and boots and quietly walked down the stairs and unlocked the door.

“Nicky? Mr. Daley? What are you guys doing here?”

“Hey (y/n) look I know this is a lot to take in right now and I don’t have a lot of time to explain so I’m gonna cut right to the point. Cecil stole the tablet of Ahkmenrah, along with Gus and Reginald. We have the other two back at the museum but we need your help in getting Cecil.”

“Whoa wait what? Mr. Daley you mean to tell me that the former head of security, someone I’ve looked up to for years has stolen the tablet of Ahkmenrah? Why would he want to steal it?”

“He said he and the other two guards were gonna sell it so that they could get a wealthy long retirement.” Nicky spoke up. I then turned to the two costumed gentlemen and I said.

“Am I missing the historical convention or something?”

“No, no, no. You know how I told you the tablet makes things in the museum come to life? I’d like you to meet Attila the Hun and the pharaoh himself Ahkmenrah.” I turned towards them and almost couldn’t believe it, especially with ‘Ahkmenrah’.

I mean there’s never been a real documented picture of him due to his short reign but—he was kinda cute. Wait what am I saying? This could all be a trick.

It was then Attila said something in Mandarin as he nodded to me. I looked at him confused, that’s when Ahkmenrah said.

“He says he’s honored to meet someone who knows his true history and not the fables that surrounded him.” I walked up to Ahkmenrah and I looked him over. His light blue eyes and sun kissed skin.

“How do I know you’re not just some method actor?”

“I assure you my lady I am no actor. But if you want to test me since you know so much about my history especially, ask me something only I would know.” I crossed my arms at his challenge.

“Okay.” I thought long and hard about a question that only either I or the ‘pharaoh’ himself would know. “How exactly did your brother kill you?” yeah I know it was a dark question but it was all I could think of that was a difficult question. Some scholars have even debated on Ahkmenrah’s death but I alone knew the truth after getting some good research done.

“It was sunset. I had just gotten through with wanting the Jews of Egypt to have free will among my kingdom when my brother called me into the studies to speak about the new law. At first I thought we’d go into another argument about it, but he wanted to drink a celebratory toast in light of the new law. I thought nothing of it so my brother and I drank the wine he had prepared. After the toast, I felt this pain in my stomach and—my brother standing over me with nothing but a cruel smile on his face.”

Oh…….my…..god. It—this was……Ahkmen—he…..Ohhhhhh shit!

“My pharaoh I—” I proceeded to bow before him but he stopped me and he said.

“Please no. There is no need for that.” Oh my god his hands were so warm on my cold ones.

“I—I can’t….I just can’t believe. Oh my god I’ve really fallen off the deep end haven’t I?”

“Told you I wasn’t crazy.” Mr. Daley spoke up.

“Okay, okay I believe you. So where is Cecil at right now?”

“Last we saw him he was heading for Central Park.”

“Then why the hell did you come here for!? Central Park from here is halfway across town compared to the museum! We’ll never catch him on foot.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He then whistled and soon a horse came charging in and stopped right in front of us.

“Uhh Larry I hate to break it to you but we all can’t fit on one horse.”

“Oh I know this is my ride, your ride is Rexy.” I soon heard the thundering footsteps and soon following behind a toy truck was the giant T-Rex that you first see when you walk into the museum. It let out a roar and my mouth just dropped.

“You finally get your Jurassic Park wish huh (y/n)?” Nicky said to me with a wide smile.

“I—I suppose so.” The truck stopped right by us and I took notice of the two small miniatures inside that were inside. The Roman General Octavius and the cowboy Jedidiah.

“We ready to get this rodeo on the show now gigantor?” said Jedidiah.

“Yeah guys. So you remember the plan right? You all round Cecil off and I’ll follow behind him.”

“We’re on it my liege. Everyone hop on. The enemy must not escape our sights!” Octavius proclaimed. Larry and Attila got on top of the horse and the two of them rode off while Nicky, Ahkmenrah and I got on top of Rexy. Ahkmenrah got on first and he held his hand out to me.

I took it and he helped me mount onto the T-Rex. My back was pressed up against his chest and our noses almost touching each other’s.

“Thank you.” I softly whispered in awe.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt. It’s—very different from mounting a horse.” I nodded as I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

“Shall I leave you two alone to get a room?” Nicky sassed out.

“Oh you little twerp just get on.” He grinned smugly as he came up and I told him to be careful as he came and sat in front of me. “K guys we’re ready!” Nicky told the two miniatures suddenly Rexy lunged forward and soon we were running full speed towards Central Park.

Within 10-20 minutes we arrived at Central Park and on the other side through the trees I saw Cecil riding on top of the money carrier horse and coach.

Rexy soon began to run faster which forced me to lean further up against Ahkmenrah. We looked at each other and smiled at each other as I felt him hold onto my waist tighter so that we wouldn’t fall off. Rexy then suddenly took a sharp left and we were now right in front of Cecil’s path.

But then Cecil took a sharp turn right past us just barely missing Rexy’s leg by a few inches. It was then I saw the horrifying sight of the truck that Jedidiah and Octavius were riding in spin out of control until it flipped over a small foot of snow before exploding.

With no bone to follow, Rexy soon stopped and whined and we all looked in the direction where the two miniatures had disappeared to. I saw that Larry had stopped just ahead of us and he was looking right where Jed and Octavius had fallen.

“Rexy let me down boy.” He lowered himself down so that I could get off of him.

“Where are you going?” asked Nicky.

“I’m gonna help your dad end this. Ahkmenrah, can you keep an eye on Nicky?”

“Yes of course.”

“Nicky, stay with him alright?” I told him in my sitter voice and he knew to never go up against me when I used that voice. I hopped off and raced towards Mr. Daley. “Larry!” he turned to me and I said. “I’ve got a plan, but I need you to do exactly what I tell you.” he nodded.

“Hop on.” I got on the back of the horse as Larry said, “C’mon Tex let’s finish this. HIYAH!” soon we took off racing after Cecil.

“Stay close to the back of the coach, I’m gonna try to hop on it and grab the tablet.”

“Are you crazy!?”

“Yeah well it’s been a crazy night. So just do it!” he urged Tex on and soon we were right up on the stagecoach. I reached out as far as I could and missed it a few times before finally getting a grip onto it. Once I pulled myself up, I nodded to him telling him to get Cecil’s attention while I went for the tablet.

“Give me the tablet Cecil!” Larry cried out.

“Can’t do it, son!” the horses whinnied as they ran faster and I slowly crawled up towards Cecil’s back where I could see the glimmer’s of the golden Egyptian tablet.

“Pull over!”

“It ain’t gonna happen. Moving on!”

“Last chance Cecil! Stop the horses or I will!”

“They can’t be stopped, Larry. Don’t you know your history? These are money carriers. They were trained not to stop for anything but a secret word.” I finally grabbed the tablet and pulled it out of the bag as I said.

“You don’t say?” It was then Cecil turned and saw me with the table. “You mean a word like—”

“DAKOTA!” Larry cried out. I then held onto the roof railings of the stage coach as the horses suddenly stopped and Cecil went flying forwards into the snow. As Larry rode up towards Cecil, I got off the stage coach and followed right behind Larry. “Read up on my history, along with a little help from a friend.” Larry said as he turned towards me.

“And by the way. Consider yourself out of my dissertation paper.” I told Cecil.

“And also, never talk to me like that in front of my son.” He then grabbed Cecil and threw his famed words back at him, “Moving on.”

We soon met up back at the stagecoach where Ahkmenrah, Nicky, and Atilla and his Huns came in.

“Oh hey, Huns.” Cecil said nervously as Larry transferred him over to them.

“Tell Atilla to have his boys take him back to the museum, put him back with the rest of the guards.” Larry told Ahkmenrah who then translated it to Attila in his tone. “Oh and uhh no limb ripping, okay?” Larry told Attila.

Attila tried to reason with Larry but he shook his head saying no. That’s when Attila pinched his fingers with a little bit of space between them as he asked Larry.

“Mikaka?” Larry turned to Cecil for a moment before turning back to Attila doing the same thing as he responded.

“Makeekaka.” Hearing that made Attila and his friends very happy as Attila then proclaimed out to his Huns.

“Hey, w-wait. Hold the phone. What’s Makeekaka mean? Wait, translation please?” he asked Ahkmenrah as the Huns picked him up and carried him back to the museum.

“That’ll teach him to steal from the museum.” I bragged. “Not bad Mr. Daley. That was impressive.”

“Hey, couldn’t have done it without those websites you sent me to help me out with the research. You’re the real hero here tonight (y/n).”

“Yeah, and that was so awesome of how you got onto that stagecoach. You were like a superhero back there.” I blushed at Nicky’s praising.

“They are right (y/n).” Ahkmenrah said. “We owe this night to you, thanks to you I once again have my tablet.” I smiled and said.

“It took all of us. Teamwork is what got this back.” I said as I held up the tablet.

“Oh boy.” I heard Larry say grimly.

“What is it?” asked Ahkmenrah.

“I gotta get you guys back to the museum.” He said urgently.

“Why? What happens if they’re not back at the museum? Well besides it being empty.”

“If the exhibits are outside of the museum when the sun comes up, they turn to dust.” He told me. My eyes widened in fear as I turned to Ahkmenrah and he looked at me with a grim expression that expressed the truth.

“How?” asked Nicky as I turned to see half of the museum already here in Central Park.

“It’s gonna take us hours just to wrangle everyone up. And this isn’t even half of the exhibits we need.”

“Ahkmenrah. We’re gonna need your help.” Larry guided me over to the young pharaoh as he continued, “This is your tablet, you know the instructions. We need you to get everyone back.” I handed him his tablet and he took it from my hands.

As we did the transfer, our fingers briefly touched one another’s and I swear to god I thought I felt a spark. I swallowed my little crush (was it a crush? I don’t know) and nodded to him and that’s when Ahkmenrah began to speak in ancient Egyptian as he looked down at the tablet.

As soon as I heard him say his name, the tablet glowed which reflected his face majestically, but that’s when I heard Rexy softly growl as he then began walking back towards the museum. Not only was he walking onward but all the exhibits, it seemed they were all in a trance as they walked on.

With that the four of us left alongside the exhibits and we went to make sure that everyone got back there and to their designated wings safe and sound.

Once everyone was inside, present and accounted for; I walked with Ahkmenrah back to his tomb and he said to me.

“Thank you, for helping me retrieve my tablet (y/n).”

“It was no problem. Really. I’d do it all over again a thousand times if it meant you and the others could live to see another night.” He smiled and as he placed it back to its proper place he asked me.

“Will I see you tonight?”

“Oh I don’t know.” I sighed heavily. “I can’t let Larry just get the boot for this, at least not if I can help it.”

“You have a kind heart (y/n). In another life you would’ve made the perfect Egyptian Queen.” I blushed and laughed shyly. “If that is the case, then it was an honor to finally meet you (y/n).”

“Believe me it was an honor meeting you. I just…wish we had more time. I have so many questions for you.” He smiled and said.

“If the Gods make it to be, perhaps one day we shall cross paths again.” I nodded as I extended my hand out for a handshake. He took it and instead of a handshake, he turned my hand over and kissed the back of it.

I felt my face heat up and butterflies fluttered around my stomach as I nervously smiled.

“Yeah, you too Ahkmenrah.” I then helped him back into his sarcophagus and once I closed it up, I heard nothing but silence. I turned to the Anubis guards who now stood very still and figured that it must be sunrise about now. “Wadaeaan ya fireawn. Num jayidaan.” I whispered as I gently touched Akhmen’s sarcophagus.

I left the Egyptian wing and saw that all the exhibits were now once again either statues once more or had phased back into their wax figurines. I walked down the steps to see the large mess once again.

“You got him back to his wing safely?” asked Larry.

“Yep. Safe and snug in his sarcophagus. C’mon. Let’s clean up whatever we can before McFreak comes in and flips out.”

“(Y/n).” Rebecca scolded me. I shrugged at her as I picked up a broom from the supply closet nearby and handed one to Nicky and the two of us began to collect all the toilet paper that had been tossed around.

When Dr. McPhee did come in, he was definitely not happy. After having Larry and I sit through the news that was talking about all the sightings that had happened last night from Rexy’s footprints in the snow, caveman drawings in the subway and even the Neanderthals up on top of the museum building waving torches in the air.

“Any explanation at all?” he asked the two of us. Larry thought about it before he came to a fake conclusion.

“No. Got nothin’.”

“Me neither.” I answered.

“Right. I’ll take your keys and your flashlight then.” He said as he walked up to Larry before turning towards me and continuing, “And you. Can turn in your membership and research card. You’ll be banned from the museum until further notice.” Larry and I looked at each other before Larry turned in his stuff and I turned in my access card.

He guided us out of his office to let us out of the museum but what we saw was something I had not seen since I was probably a little girl.

The museum was packed! There were probably hundreds maybe even thousands of people walking about, getting tours, checking in, and asking for information about certain figurines or exhibits.

A wide smile spread across my face as I placed my hands over my mouth trying to contain my excitement. But what really got me excited was when Dr. McPhee gave Larry and I back our stuff and gave us a small smile before walking away.

“Oh my god.” I said in awe.

“Seems the news really brought this place back on the map.” Larry said. I then hugged Larry as tight as I could and he hugged me back. “What’s that for?”

“I have no idea. Just—thank you for probably the greatest moment of my life.”

“You sure it don’t have anything to do with the pharaoh just one floor up?” he teased. I playfully punched him as hard as I could in the shoulder.

“I’ll see you tonight Mr. Daley. I’ll even pick up Nicky and bring him here.” I headed off to start my shift since I knew the tour guides needed more help so I decided to lend a hand and help out.

Of course that was fun and all, but the real fun began when the sun went down. With my I-pod hooked up to the stereo on my “Happy feet playlist”, I had my #1 song ‘September’ by Earth, wind and fire playing while all the exhibits were gathered around the main lobby in celebration.

Everyone was either dancing or playing soccer and I couldn’t help but smile at seeing a once ancient pharaoh dance so badly that it was almost embarrassing. Our eyes soon locked with each other and he came over to me and said.

“Come on, let’s dance.”

“Oh no, no, no, no, no I don’t dance Ahkmenrah.”

“This is our party and I demand you dance. By royal decree.” He teased at the end with a wink down at me. Well—who was I to deny a royal pharaoh’s decree?

“Just a little warning for you, I don’t know how to dance.”

“Neither do I.”

“So you’re not at all embarrassed?”

“Not really. We’re amongst friends. And true friends don’t laugh at one another, even in their silly moments. Now come (y/n).” he took my hands and pulled me onto the dance floor and the two of us danced to the beat as silly as we possibly could.

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aphrodites-law · 4 years

Text

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (7/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6]

Clarke usually went straight to the café, but the past few days she'd started taking a detour. Since the article in the Gazette, Finn's Coffee & Bagels had taken a serious hit. Costial was a city with a deep-rooted pride for small businesses; mom-and-pop stores that had earned their success and customers' fidelity. Hard work and honesty were appreciated - shortcuts and lies were not. In just the one exposé, Finn's shop had lost half its patrons. Other outlets had jumped on the bandwagon and word had spread very quickly that anyone who bought his food or coffee might as well buy it in super stores for the same mass-produced quality at half the price. Finn had lost the support of his backers, but, more importantly, the Mayor had publicly condemned his son's business tactics.

To be perfectly honest, Clarke took some joy in the fall of Finn's plans. She had no doubt he would come up with another project very soon, perhaps in the theater sector, but at least his future in restoration was bleak. Clarke knew gloating wasn't a good look on anyone, but she wasn't ready to climb down from her cloud just yet. She was sure something would soon come along to knock her down a few pegs, but these days she was feeling pretty confident.

The café had been busier, which Clarke and Wells planned to capitalize on with the right promotion. Today he'd surpassed himself with some mini marble cakes, one of which Clarke had shoved in her mouth as soon as he'd shown her. It was the perfect time to look more seriously into new hires, which Clarke had pushed back for far too long. Gaia and Harper had been noticeably excited by the news. Wells would vet any additional help in the kitchen, but she could tell it was a relief for him too. Their café was small, but the workload wasn't.

Clarke was drafting the job application at the end of the counter when she heard someone clear their throat. She looked up and closed the laptop with a mischievous smile, her heart doing its now familiar dance.

“Lexa.”

“Clarke.”

Lexa had her dark green raincoat on, hiding the plaid collar Clarke only associated with her now. It didn't seem like she'd ordered anything yet, bypassing the two people in line to find her.

“Have a good weekend?” Clarke asked.

“I did. Had a long chat with Semet actually.”

“And?”

Lexa smiled at Clarke's interest. “You’ll find my observations in the Gazette... eventually.”

"Nothing world-changing though, I take it?"

Lexa shrugged. "I think the world's seen most of the changes already."

"I'd knock on wood if I were you."

"Why? Wary of change?"

"No, but a break for… oh, the next five or ten years might be nice. I miss going about my day not wondering when aliens will come crashing."

Lexa laughed. "I assure you Semet's experience didn't give any indication we might soon meet our celestial neighbors."

Clarke glanced at Gaia and Harper, making sure they still had everything under control with the orders.

“So um, I had an enlightening weekend too.”

“Oh?” Lexa asked, nonchalant.

“Yeah. I was thinking we could... discuss." Clarke bit her lip. "Maybe over dinner?”

Lexa's demeanor visibly shifted, not as casual as she'd been just a few seconds ago. “Is that really what you want?”

“Trust me, it’s become crystal clear what I want.”

Lexa seemed a cross between reticent and eager, like she was a wild animal in a cage and the door had just opened, but she didn’t quite know what might come from stepping outside- freedom or punishment.

“Clarke. Maybe we should... slow down.”

That was surprising. Clarke frowned. “Slow down from a glacial pace?”

“Just days ago you weren't even sure what to think of me."

“But then we- I thought the rooftop-" Clarke's cheeks felt warm. "I was under the impression we were on the same page."

Lexa looked away and Clarke felt her morning's happiness wither away. So much for staying on her cloud. She took in Lexa's demeanor: tense shoulders and the obvious inability to catch her eyes. Clarke truly didn’t understand her. It was frustrating - bordering on humiliating.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Clarke-"

"No, no. I don't know what game you think this is, but I'm not playing it."

Lexa seemed panicked. "It's not a game."

"Then what the fuck is it?"

Lexa looked toward the door as two people came in. Harper greeted them cheerily, waiting for their order. This was neither the place nor the time. She looked back at Clarke with pleading eyes, unable to offer an explanation.

Clarke shook her head, tired of the silence. "I told myself I'd stop sitting around and waiting for things to happen, but I won't waste my time on someone who can't decide if I'm worth the chase. You clearly don't want any sort of relationship-"

“It’s not that simple,” Lexa argued.

“It is that simple," Clarke gritted through her teeth, feeling both stupid and angry. She'd fallen for Lexa's charm again only to be disappointed once more. It felt like being doused in ice-cold water. "You either want someone or you don’t. So which is it?”

Lexa shook her head imperceptibly. There was something on the tip of her tongue, Clarke could tell, but she couldn't get it out.

Clarke glanced at the front door when it opened, a family of three walking in. She swallowed her disappointment at the turn in her morning before giving Lexa a hard stare.

"I have to get back to work."

"Clarke-"

“You need to figure out what you want,” Clarke snapped lowly. “Preferably without stringing people along while you do so.”

She took the family's orders with a smile, trying her hardest not to look toward the door as Lexa walked out with hunched shoulders.

* * *

Clarke posted the application on their website and several job boards in the afternoon. Resumes came fast, but Wells wanted to be a part of the process - usually less involved in the business side now that most things were squared away - so they'd set some time aside on Wednesday to reach out to applicants. Wells even planned to speak to a couple smaller theaters over the weekend to expand their partnership program.

And yet, the more good news and exciting plans came their way… the more frustrated Clarke became. Clearly she wasn't incompetent and had a firm handle on most aspects of her life, but for some reason her romantic aspirations had turned into a complete disaster. Was that really all that was in store for her? Had she somehow agreed to a bustling café in exchange for an empty home? Professional success so long as she slept alone? The exchange with Lexa had left a bitter taste in her mouth, like it'd been a cosmic reminder her happiness would always be short-lived.

She kept busy to avoid blowing the lid off her anger, forcing smiles while she chatted with patrons, made coffee, and watched the mini marble cakes disappear one by one. There were so many reasons to be elated, but not even Finn's fall from grace could lift up her mood anymore. He'd get on with his life eventually - people like him always did.

Maybe Clarke had made a mistake with Niylah. She was sweet and charming in her own way. They got along great and were certainly compatible in bed. What they had was easy and uncomplicated - Clarke had never given herself a headache trying to figure out Niylah and Niylah had never chased after her only to run the opposite way. She was straightforward and easygoing; eager to share every aspect of her life Clarke might be curious about. Niylah was a Costialite through and through: honest, hardworking, and kindhearted. She didn't make her heart race or take up her thoughts, but she didn't make her feel like a tightly coiled spring either.

Which meant Niylah deserved better than her. She deserved someone who looked at her like she was the only person in the room. She deserved someone who wanted everything with her. Clarke knew it wasn't their sexual relationship she missed, but rather that period of time when she hadn’t cared as much about her loneliness. She missed the whirlwind of planning and opening the café, the breezy attitude that had carried her through so many problems.

One vision had changed it all, and Clarke couldn't say it was for the better.

* * *

Wells was already gone before closing time, the kitchen immaculate and the next day's ingredients already prepared. Clarke didn't know how he did it - as if he had ten hours more in the day than the rest of them. The last patrons trickled out until eventually there was no one and Gaia turned over the OPEN sign on the front door.

"Go home; I'll clean up," Clarke told her, putting her hair up while Gaia grabbed the broom from the back room.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, give Poppy a good cuddle for me."

Gaia took her coat and purse. "You should come over soon. Give her those cuddles yourself."

Clarke smiled tiredly. "I do miss those big ears."

Gaia had the sweetest beagle she took on long hikes every weekend. She'd been born with one ear much longer than the other, but her lopsided anatomy only added to her personality.

"You haven’t even seen my new place yet," Gaia pointed out.

She'd moved into her mother's second building a few months back, the one on the same street as Lexa's, which only reminded Clarke how poorly she'd neglected all her relationships.

"One day soon I'll pop in with wine and a pizza and you won't be able to get rid of me," she promised.

Gaia smiled brightly as she shouldered her purse. "Holding you to that, boss."

"See you tomorrow," Clarke said as Gaia walked out.

Clarke dimmed the main lights, wiped the last few tables and put the chairs up. She straightened out the coffee mugs and cleaned the front of the display case, giving herself a few more minutes before she headed home. The rush hour traffic outside was slowing down, giving Clarke some needed quiet.

To hear their small bell ring as the door opened was more than a surprise. Clarke turned around and stilled, watching as Lexa pulled down her raincoat’s hood and looked at her across the room. Her hair was out of its braids, damp and frizzy.

Clarke felt her anger roar back to life and stoke the fire inside her. Her heart pounded, furious that Lexa had had such an effect on her mood today. But she wouldn't back down. She wouldn't look away until it was Lexa who was forced to do so.

"We're closed," she told her coldly. It was so unlike her to be so curt.

Lexa didn't move, didn't even open her mouth to attempt a reply. It was infuriating.

"What do you want?" Clarke asked harshly, echoing her question from this morning.

Lexa's eyes flashed with similar ardor and her jaw locked. Then, in four strides, she was in front of Clarke and kissing her.

Clarke felt her hands on her waist first, and then the heat of her mouth against her own. She gasped, fisted her hands in Lexa's collar and then unraveled. She kissed Lexa back with the force of her anger, pulling and pulling until Lexa had her pressed against the display case and her body flush against hers. Her tongue felt like silk when it brushed the tip of hers, when it took a risk and was rewarded. Her hands felt like embers, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched her, first on her waist and then lower, on her hips, until they became more dangerous and cupped her ass while she pressed tight against her. Desperate and possessive.

Clarke moaned loudly, overwhelmed by the sudden force of her desire. She needed Lexa to take her, to be inside her, to fulfill her incessant need for release. She couldn't imagine a second away from Lexa's lips, a second where Lexa didn't touch her.

“God, I thought of this,” she moaned between kisses, eyes closing when she felt Lexa's mouth down her neck. She smelled like the rain; felt like a storm.

“I think about you all the time...” Lexa breathed in her ear, almost like she hadn't meant to say it aloud.

Clarke pulled back, cupping Lexa's face to make sure she wasn't imagining this again. After a beat, their next kiss turned hungrier. Clarke wanted nothing more than to pull Lexa in the back room. She didn’t need romance or a bed. She needed Lexa’s fire to consume her and for the world to stop existing for just a moment. At the same time she was content staying there, pinned between glass and Lexa's body while they kissed into the night.

But her imagination was kinder than reality, as a car suddenly honked at another outside, startling Lexa. She ripped away from their embrace with wide eyes, stumbling back like she was dizzy, the reality of the situation catching up to her.

Clarke could read it all on her face: the surprise at her own actions, the realization of where they were and what they had almost done so publicly. She could've cried when Lexa suddenly looked like a deer in headlights.

It was the same expression from this morning. Clarke shook her head at her, begging her not to run. But a part of her knew it was futile - Lexa had already made up her mind. Still, she had to try one last time.

"It's okay."

Lexa's bottom lip trembled. "I shouldn't have done that. I thought I could, but-" She pressed her hands against her eyes in frustration. "I'm so sorry, Clarke."

Clarke's chest felt heavy. "Please don't go. Help me understand."

"I won't bother you again."

"That's not what I want," Clarke replied in frustration, stepping closer.

Lexa shook her head. "You don't want me."

"Why not?"

To Clarke, Lexa seemed broken. Like something in her had finally shattered.

"You started looking at me after your vision," Lexa whispered. "We never spoke until… until you had it. And I never realized it was you in mine until I saw you drawing."

"What does it matter?"

"You don't know me," Lexa told her, voice cracking. "If you did, your vision would never become true. You'd want nothing to do with me."

"Don't you dare put words in my mouth," Clarke snapped.

Lexa stopped short, so Clarke took a deep breath and stepped even closer.

"Lexa. I don't need to be protected. You're right, we don't know much about each other. So let me learn and let me make my own decisions afterward. Please. You can't pretend there's nothing between us - you can't."

"The visions-"

"I don't give a fuck about the visions," Clarke told her stubbornly. "Maybe it opened my eyes, but it didn't create feelings out of thin air. That's not possible."

Lexa still looked skittish, ready to bolt at any moment. Clarke reached out for her hand, relieved when Lexa took it. It was so different than the rooftop, where Lexa had grabbed hers so confidently. How could a person be so torn?

"Maybe you were right this morning," Clarke said softly. "We've skipped a lot of steps. So let's start over."

Lexa finally caught her eyes. "I hurt people, Clarke. I don't mean to, but inevitably it's what I do."

Clarke knew that was all she'd get out of Lexa tonight. Hesitantly, she cupped her cheek.

"How about this? If the rain lets up, I take you to the river this weekend. We bring some drinks, some snacks, maybe some hiking shoes. You can tell me about the Mountain Men and I can tell you about the weird resumes I'll inevitably get this week."

Lexa let out a chuckle, which made Clarke smile hopefully. "Doesn't sound too scary, does it?"

"No. That sounds nice."

Clarke felt hopeful for the first time. "Just two people hanging out, getting to know each other."

"I'd like that." Lexa glanced at her mouth and swallowed. "I do want you, Clarke."

Clarke pressed her index against her lips. "I know. Nobody kisses a friend like that. But…"

"Fresh start?"

"Right.” Clarke still had to speak her mind: “Lexa, you can't keep running away without telling me why. I'm patient but I'm not a saint. I get angry too. I get scared."

Lexa nodded quietly, looking down at their hands before she glanced around the room.

"You were closing up."

"Yeah, did you not notice the chairs on the tables?"

"I was preoccupied. Can I help?"

"Lexa… I think maybe you should go home."

Lexa looked down. "I'm sorry, I must be giving you whiplash."

"Just a little," Clarke smiled.

"I'll see you this weekend?"

"I didn't mean you can't swing by for a quick hello and a cup of coffee. Or not coffee. Wells is baking up a storm, it'd be a pity if you missed it."

"That sounds nice."

Clarke accompanied her to the door, where she noticed the rain had become heavier. It was incessant these days, washing down the streets of Costial and keeping the coffee shops and movie theaters busy. Nothing unusual for the season. She grabbed one of the forgotten umbrellas in the stand by the entrance, giving it to Lexa.

"That's alright-"

"Take it. I don't you want coming in sneezing and sniffling this week."

"Thank you, Clarke." Slowly, hesitantly, Lexa kissed her cheek. "Goodnight."

After Lexa walked out in the rain and turned the corner with one last glance over her shoulder, Clarke stood in the dark for a moment. Then, she walked to the back room and slid down the wall until she was sitting on the ground. She clutched her heart, eyes closing as she let the last few minutes rush over her. Whiplash didn't even begin to cover it.

In the resounding silence, she tried processing what had just happened. She could still feel Lexa's kiss, everything she had imagined and more. But then Lexa had pulled away. It felt like she was two different people, one aching with desire like Clarke, the other convinced it would hurt them both. But why?

Clarke thought back to when she had first noticed Lexa. Courteous, quiet Lexa who had placed her order and sat near the weeping fig tree for hours while she worked. What could have driven her to Costial? It couldn't be the job opportunities - she didn't work in theater and the Gazette was no more reputable than their neighboring cities' newspapers. Family was the obvious guess, but then why not come earlier? What kind of life had she left behind that still haunted her today?

Clarke wasn't sure she'd be able to shut up this weekend, too wrapped up in Lexa's mystery to keep herself from asking questions. She wanted to know everything but knew she had to be cautious. Still, spending time together was a step forward. She was relieved Lexa hadn't run after all, but it would be difficult to forget the pain in her eyes. Despite the uncertainty of their relationship, if it could even be defined, Clarke had a feeling it would be worth fighting for.

[part eight]

#f: a bit of clarity #clexa #clarke x lexa #w

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chris-evanslover · 4 years

Text

Scarlett Special

Summary: Inspired by seeing Scarlett and Chris on the OSU Interview, Some relationship fluff about Scarlett introducing Chris to his wife

Word Count: 1.3K

You were doing the dishes in the kitchen trying not to be loud while doing so because Chris was about to go on a live interview. He decided he wanted to do the Interview from the bedroom so that he wouldn’t be disturbed by your chores, which you agreed would be a good idea. You and Chris have been together for almost 5 years, married for 1 and you couldn’t be happier with the life you built together. You met through Scarlett, being friends from childhood it was hard for you to spend a lot of time together once she was getting picked up left and right for projects but you always made time for each other. You grew up with 3 older brothers so Scarlett was the closest thing you had to a sister, she genuinely was family to you.

Scarlett asked you over for dinner when you were visiting one of your brothers in New York and you were so excited to see given it had been almost a year and a half. What you didn’t know is that Chris Evans and Mark Ruffalo would also be joining the dinner but we can get to that in a minute. You got to Scarletts and you thought you were the only one coming but then she said “I have two other friends in town right now and it’s the only night I can see them, I’m sorry to spring this on you last minute but do you mind if they come?” “Not at all! Who are they” “Evans and Ruffalo from the avengers, they’re great you will love them”

Trying to stop your jaw from hitting the ground you straightened up and said “Yeah of course, 13 going on 30 is only one of my favorite movies ever no big deal” you mumbled. Scarlett laughed at you and said “Marks a big teddy bear seriously he’s the sweetest” “I bet, You’ve known Evans for a while too haven’t you?” you asked her. “Yeah we’re practically siblings at this point, I can’t believe i’ve known both of you almost my entire life and this is the first time your meeting”

Fast forward through that dinner, you and Chris hit it off immediately, noticing looks from Scarlett throughout the meal hinting at your obvious flirts going back and forth. Before Chris left for the night he pulled you aside and asked for your number, and with that folks, the rest is history.

Chris’ voice snapped you out of your daydream, you’re now holding a VERY clean plate, “Babe? Do you have my medallion you said yesterday you were gonna clean it” “Yeah it’s over here, it was drying, let me rinse it one more time” You began to rinse the necklace under the warm water to get all of the cleaning solution off of it. Chris came up behind you smelling like a whole ass forest from his body wash and cologne mixed together. Your favorite scent and that bastard knew that. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder as you rinsed, occasionally kissing you on the cheek or neck or collarbone or wherever else he could reach. You giggled and turned around in his grasp and clasped the necklace on his neck, then straightening it out. “Good as new” “Thank you sweetheart” He kissed you briefly and straightened his shirt “So I have the OSU interview with Scarlett starting in 10 minutes, it shouldn’t take more than a half hour then I was thinking we could binge some Schitt’s Creek?” Boy oh boy did this man know the way to your heart. (if you haven’t watched this show go binge all 6 seasons on Netflix right now)

“Sounds perfect, tell Scar I said Hi” you pointed your finger in his face to exaggerate your point. He laughed and nodded then made his way to the bedroom. You finished the dishes and fed Dodger then planted yourself on the couch with your computer to answer some work emails. Chris should be done in about 10 minutes so you figured you would make a snack for your Dan Levy filled night. You passed the bedroom on your way to the kitchen and heard Chris’ loud laughter, chuckling to yourself wondering what he’s laughing at. Next thing you know you heard Chris say your name, as if he’s calling you. You were confused because it sounded like he was still on the interview and you were well, in leggings and one of Chris’ hoodies, not exactly interview attire. He called your name again and you figured eh what the hell and went to the bedroom to find Chris sitting on the bed facing the pillows with his computer on zoom with Scarlett and the OSU interviewer. He beckoned you over to sit with him and started to explain.

“So I told Scarlett you said Hi and she said she’d rather hear it from you” he laughed. You rolled your eyes and looked at the computer screen “Hi Scarlett” she laughed loudly as did the interviewer “Hi babes I miss you!!!” “I miss you too, come to Boston!” “You know what I might have to” you all laughed and then the interviewer asked how you and Scarlett know each other and if it’s through Chris. “It’s not through Chris” Scarlett laughed “Y/N is basically my sister i’ve known her since Pre-K and we’ve been family ever since. It just so happens that Y/N and Chris were both at my house in New York for dinner and that’s where they met and fell in love and such so some would say I set them up” she finished with a cheeky smile. You and Chris laughed and confirmed her story. “It’s crazy to me that I was going to Scar’s house just for a dinner and I left the dinner with a phone number that belonged to who would become my husband” Chris nodded and said “I remember so vividly meeting her she just stuck out to me so quickly, her personality and humor was so compatible with mine and we really just hit it off, best decision I ever made” “Better than playing Cap?” the interviewer joked around.

“Eh it’s pretty even” Chris smiled at you and you again rolled your eyes. “You’re lucky we’re on camera right now” Another chorus of laughs and the interview was being wrapped up. You sat quietly next to Chris as he wrapped things up and thanked the interviewer for having you even if you did interrupt, he said you’re welcome to interrupt anytime to which you laughed. Chris closed the laptop after he left the meeting and pulled you to him, laying down practically on top of him. “Hi” “Hi, how'd that come up” you laughed. “Scarlett’s idea, that was fun though I felt a lot more comfortable with you next to me” 5 years later and he still makes you swoon when he says sweet shit like this. You smiled and leaned up to kiss him, “I love you”

“I love you more baby, now c’mon let’s go watch our show” He lifted you up bridal style and carried you to the couch where Dodger was taking a snooze. You guys got comfortable and pressed play when you felt a buzz come from the pocket of your hoodie. Pulling out your phone you laughed out loud from a text you got from Scarlett.

‘I miss you both tons, I’m coming up with Rose next weekend!!’ You showed the text to Chris who looked at you questioningly when you laughed. He smiled and nodded to let you know she should come. You texted her back telling her that you can’t wait and to text you details closer to.

You nuzzled back into Chris thankful for Scarlett and her sometimes crazy dinner parties.

A/N: Just a quick one shot about husband!chris and their backstory! hope you liked it, feedback welcome and requests open!

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#chris evans instagram #chris evans smut #chris evans masterlist #chris evans pic #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans one shot #chris evans

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

Text

Your Living It

Summary- (Playing It Cool) He x Y/N (later i will give him a proper name besides he or me) Frustrated with the latest romcom, you two go out for some fun. Smut. Fir @official-and-unstable-satan Hope this is what you were hoping for babes.

Word Count- 2.7k

“Babes, can you like, not leave notes all over everything?” You playfully scold as you gather the papers he had scattered across the entire kitchen, and he raced in, throwing his hands up rapidly.

“STOP RIGHT THERE! Babygirl dont you dare move”

Wide eyed you pause, the papers half shuffled together when he comes over and takes them from your hand. His brows furrow as he studies them, before putting them back on the counter just where they were before. “A method to my madness, just… dont clean.”

“But how am I supposed to cook dinner then?” You whinned a bit, arms folding over your chest, and he straightened out some of the papers before turning to you.

“Ummm, pizza? Bowling alley pizza?” You wince a bit and then he adds “With bowling alley beer?” You nod then with a grin and he busts out in a grin to, and wraps an arm around you to pull you in close, kissing your lips quickly. “Thanks for putting up with me, but Im almost done with the script for Bryan and hes been riding my ass for it.”

Your hands smooth along his chest, and up around his neck, he had been STRESSING over this thing for weeks, “Riding your ass and pulling your hair huh? I should really call Bryan and tell him to lay off or else.” You joked, and he wiggled his brows, tickling along your back.

“Well thats better done in person after all. I need to see his reaction” You lean up and catch that grin of his one more time, a more playful teasing kiss with a nibble and trace of tongue before you step away. “Give me five minutes and I will be ready to go.”

“Okay! See you in ten then!” He called over his shoulder and laughed when your middle finger shot up at him and you slammed the bedroom door shut, laughing yourself. Once you closed the door, he went over to his laptop, sitting and staring at the screen. Its cursor blinked at him . “fucken hell” He muttered as he slammed the screen down, frustrated at coming up with the ending.

You pop back out just as he plasters a smile on his face and his eyes rake over your form, even in damn black leggings and a tank, the whole ensamble hugging your curves. Fuck you looked good, You always did. “See! Five minutes.” He gasped as he took your hand to lead you along, fingers wrapping with yours. “A first? One of many? The world may never know.”

What a dumbass, you thought but couldnt help but laugh regardless. Going to the car, you two headed out, while he was driving you texted Scott.

‘Hey buddy, wanna play bowl a round or two, or you to caught up in something?’

‘No! Be there, get that end lane if you can.”

Tossing your phone up on the dashboard just as you two pulled in “Scotts gonna play with us.” And he just nodded, making sure his wallet was in his pocket.

“Good, he whupped my ass last time, time to pay back the favor.”

Sure enough you were able to lock down the lane on the end, while he went to go get a couple heartburn pizza slices and mildly warm beers, grabbing enough for Scott as well, there was nothing quite like bowling alley fare, you test the balls and set to put the names on the screen. Bowler 1- HottStuff 2.Wifeypoo 3.BlueBallMC. He glanced up at the screen and smirked “You really think im Hott Stuff, Wifey?”

You snort just as Scott comes in and also looks at the screen. “What the hell guys, come on!”

You look all innocent and make a pointing motion to your man, wrinkling your nose as if in distaste.

“Seriously dude? Just cause I have a blue ball…. “ he grumbles as he unzips his bag and takes out gloves and a shiny blue ball. You two just pick random ones from the selection.

“What? It wasnt me.” the two of them bicker about the name calling and you take your slice of pizza, nipping on the end with a satisfied grin, putting your feet up in the seat next to you. He takes the first bowl, making a fist pump when it hit just right and scattered the pins across the alley. “I told Y/N i was kicking your ass today Scott”

“As if man… “ Scott is polishing his ball, looking all serious, while you to to take yours. You honestly dont care, your just shooting the ball down the lane, and hands on hips, waiting to see how the pins fall. You get three, well your happy with that. The other two though, it was almost a tie torwards the middle of the set.

“Hey, I will be back, gonna get another pitcher of beer” You offer when you noticed it was down to the dredges, and he poured out the last of it into his cup before handing it over. “Thanks babe” as you walk a little tap on the ass makes you smirk and a little spring in your step.

Taking a quick break while your away, Scott stretches his arms out front of him to stay loose. “So hows that latest script coming by the way? Last message I got from you was a bunch of nonsense about how you suck at anything romantic”

Rubbing his head he sighed “I dont know why Bryan keeps laying these lame ass rom coms on me. I cant write them worth a shit, and they just suck. Im so stuck on a ending now, and my deadline is in just a few days, after already getting an extension.” Carrying on, Scott kinda just shook his head at him. “What?”

“You man, you claim you cant write rom coms worth a shit, but come on. The last two were HUGE box office successes for you and look at you. You are basically living in one.” Scott pointed out as he moved to grab his ball, nodding towards the counter where you were chatting and paying for the beer. His head tilted, he honestly never thought of what you two shared in a movie sense.

“Just saying man…. thats a love story right there without you even knowing it.”

Yea, I am pretty lucky. He thought as you came back over, setting the pitcher down with the utmost care. He leaned forward and caught your hips, dragging you back into his lap. Wiggling in place, your legs draped over his, you mentioned to Scott. “2 more frames and the best bowler wins. Come on Blue Balls MC! You got this!” Red flamed the mans face and you tipped your head back laughing. He was watching you, but in a different light, just capturing the moment for himself. Fuck he was probably one of the luckiest people he knew.

So He won, not by much and as the three of you went to leave, Scott promising a rematch later in the week when the whole group could get together and you were hugging Scott goodbye “Game on, I know Mallory wants to see you kick his ass you know.”

“Oh I plan on it. Im gonna prime up the ball tonight with some new wax.”

“Thats the stuff Scott” you encourage him, and wave as he left, the parking lot mostly empty with the late hour and He came up behind you, sliding his hands against your hips and you felt him brush the raze of his chin against your neck, tipping back with a light sigh.

“You can beat him again baby.”

“I love how you pit us together Y/N” Making you smirk deviously and turn to look up at him.

“Girls gotta have her fun.”

“Yea well, the guy does to.” Backing you up against the car and grasping your chin to tilt your face up, his face lowering close enough to brush his lips against yours. “Im thinking we have some fun right here.” You reach to his belt buckle and tug on it lightly, “Back seat or Front seat?”

His hands were already sliding over your ass and grinding you into his groin. “Mmmhhh back” He let go to open the door, the two of you tumbling in with kisses and hands grabbing at clothes. You laid back as he hovered over you, your legs parting so he could lay between them and continue with sloppy kisses and your hands pushing through the buzzed hairs on his head and down to his back, wrapping your legs around his hips as he rolled them, sure to apply the pressure right at your core, that belt buckle just grinding into your nerves making you gasp right in his mouth. “Fuck baby… “ Scrambling your fingers into his shirt and tugging it over his head.

He rolled yours up and lifting your head, disposed of the tank top on the floor, dropping his head to bite and suck the top of your breasts that were peeking over the top of your bra, he dragged a cup down enough to expose you, drawing that peak between his teeth and rolling lightly before sucking on it, causing another jolt and moan from you, your nails digging in lightly at his shoulder blades, and dragging down. He didnt stop there, lapping his tongue over the aroused peak and did the same with the other, your bra tightly wound around you while your breasts fell out the top, kneading firmly while teasing the tip. Shortly after that he unsnapped it and dragged it off. He knew what that did to you, so sensitive and maddening, soon you were wriggling underneath him and in panting pleas.

“Your driving me insane, I need you. NEED YOU INSIDE ME. Fuck me please?”

“Since you ask so nicely babygirl” He lifts his head, his blue eyes flashing in the street light illuminating a part of your backseat. He grasps your leggings and panties drawing them down. In your impatience, you shift your legs to be rid of them. He hovered over you, dipping his hand between the two of you, teasing your wet warm folds, slicking your arousal up and down.

“Cant wait can you baby? So wet and needy.” Dipping into your core and you tighten around him, needing that sensation. “Greedy is what you are, so tight.”

You nod, and run your hands up and down his biceps, biting your lip. “God yes, so please? Pretty please? Fucking hell, please?” You bucked your hips under his hand and he swept down to kiss you deeply, and jerking at his belt, you purred against his tongue rolling around yours and started helping him, grabbing his belt loops and shimmying his pants down far enough so his cock was free, using your heels and toes to hook in his pants from behind and pull them down further, locking your ankles behind his back.

He tilted your hips a bit more, and grasping his cock, lined up to your entrance, and started to push in. He was slow going at first, taking his time to not hurt you, but fuck that, you werent having none of that and with a roll of your hips, you deep seated him inside of you, hissing from the pure satisfaction while arching.

“Oh shit baby! are you okay?” Your reaction misread by him, you grasp his ass that flexed under your hands and you nod. “Fuck yes, I wanted this, go right ahead!”

Oh babygirl, he did. There was no slowing him down once he knew just what you were looking for. Deep long thrusts filling you, hips rotating to reach all those sensitive spots that had you at first moaning and panting but turned quickly into chanting, your head tipping back against the car door and digging your fingernails into his back, tightening your legs, just drawing him in against you, rutting harder and harder into you.

The broadness of his chest, was friction to your entire body, burning. His mouth traveled down the length of your neck, nipping right at pulse points, and sucking to leave love bites in place. Yea hickeys were a teenage game, but he loved marking you, and you loved the challenge of hiding them. The car started squeaking with the motion of him pounding into you, and you hid your face in his shoulder to keep from laughing as he grunted over you “Baby, fuck im close…. “ You glanced up, and tipped your mouth up to kiss his straining neck, That spiral that settled in your belly soon caught up to his words, and your pussy clenched around his thrusting cock. Slicking a finger to help yourself along, you twirl it around your clit, and start panting. “Me to baby, together?”

Tensing up while trying to leave yourself on the edge till he was ready, his thrusts became erratic plunging and seeking out an ending, you to let go, and scream his name, while arching your entire body, waves of pleasure sparking your eyesight, and above you, his mouth fell open with a deep gasp of your name, sinking himself into you that final time and his cum filled you, coating your walls while you milked him for all of it rolling your hips and clenching around him. His thrusts started to slow, and the car stopped swaying once he stopped and using an elbow next to you, he half leaned against you. His ragged breaths blew hotly against your shoulder and you nuzzled your own face into his neck, breathing him in deeply. You two were simply enjoying the moment when there was a knock on the window and a flashlight shinning in on you.

“Fuck!” He jerked his hand down to the floor and snatched your tank top to cover your chest, lifting his other hand to shield his eyes. Scrambling, him pulling up his pants, and you ducking behind him, he rolled down the window to see a officer looking away on purpose. “Uuuh sorry officer? We were just leaving.”

“I would say so son, we got a call from the closer here said your car was still parked in the lot, and there was some activity going on. How about you head on home and I wont issue a ticket, kay?” You are entirely red at this point and tugging on your clothes as fast as possible while trying to stay hidden behind him, rubbing your face in his back to keep quiet, trying not to laugh about being caught. Of course you two got caught getting randy fucked in the parking lot.

“Right now, right away, thank you officer” He said and once the officer headed away, he rolled up his window quickly and fell back in the seat, deep laughter issuing from him. You sit next to him and sputter a bit, but he wraps you in his arms and tugs you in against him, kissing your neck, or trying to. It was mostly him huffing, and you to get caught up in it. “Baby we better get home, were lucky we didnt get in trouble.”

“Yea, we probably should” He agreed, but was soon distracted in kissing you again and drawing out deep moans, a flicker of red and blue lights light up your car and you two broke apart, opening the back door and crawling out into the front seats. With a turn of the engine, you two left, the cop following you along till you were closer to home.

Once you two reached the apartment building and made it inside without anymore incidences, you shrug out of your coat while he wanders back over to his laptop and opens it up like hes about to settle into typing again. “Handsome you sure you wanna do that?” You ask as you head down the hallway towards the bedroom.

“But I thought of a perfect ending” He states, clearly distracted to your actions outside of the bedroom door. But as soon as your bra slingshots right into his chest and falls in his lap, his eyes widen as he looks up at you, your back to him, shimmying down your leggings for a second time, he snapped it shut once again. “Sorry Bryan, day late again.” He he raced down the hallway, catching you and dropping you down on the bed.

He really was living his own romantic comedy.

@what-is-your-plan-today @p8tn0lish @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @jtargaryen18

#chris evans #buzzcutchris #playing it cool #spur of the moment fic #he can pound me in the backseat #and we can bowl to

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sometipsygnostalgic · 4 years

Text

It’s been a long decade

This time 10 years ago, I was 14, sneaking onto my brother’s computer, waiting for the new year with @alphahas and a bunch of others on the Roblox forums.

That doesn’t begin to express how much my life has changed this decade, but for some reason, it’s one of the most memorable parts.

In 2010 - I gained my first drop of internet fame making DBZ-themed Roblox clothing, dropped out of school for 3 months leading up to the summer holidays, bingeread all the Twilight books, decided that my education was more important than my feelings about getting bullied, went back into school, got my first Xbox and Laptop, and began playing on Xbox Live 6 hours a day.

In 2011 - I ditched Twilight for Discworld, made some new school friends for the first time in my life, played a LOT of Left 4 Dead 2 with my sister, got my heart broken by Modern Warfare 3, and at the end of the year, I moved in with my dad and his fiance for the first time - moving from a shitty, overcrowded, unclean house into a strict environment where yes I do have to shower every day, and yes I do eat proper food with actual utensils rather than used paper plates.

In 2012 - My dad and his fiance split up and kicked me back down to my mother’s house just before my GCSEs began, and I was obviously very unhappy about this, so I decided to bingewatch Adventure Time across the 3 weeks they took place. Fortunately my GCSEs survived the fallout. I became inspired to draw Adventure Time art, massively improved my digital art style within the space of a couple months, and opened my first tumblr blog dedicated to analysing Adventure Time.

In 2013 - My blog kicked off, I was making plenty of friends during my A-levels, and I was deeply enjoying school for the first time ever. On top of this, my dad finally got a place of his own and invited me to live with him. I’m still living with him now and the quality of life is much better, everything is much cleaner, we have actual heating, I’m actually clean, I had a stable food source, I cannot describe how much the change benefitted my life. Even if he is an unstable moody bastard. Oh, also, I read Homestuck.

In 2014 - I got really fit at the start of the year going to gym 3 times a week, then I studied AMERICAN POLITICS in A-level (which 2 years later I’d deeply regret). I did better in my A-levels this year than the previous year, so evened out to B’s all round. It might have been better if my good sociology teacher didn’t get sacked for accidentally sabotaging every health and social care student... Applied for university and got a placement in the best uni in Wales. Started Uni. Had tons of money for first time. Got fat very quickly, RIP my weight. Got depressed and lonely in Halls. Hated politics classmates. At the end of the year I deleted my Adventure Time blog, and.... started getting really into Homestuck.

In 2015 - Opened up this blog (hello it’s been 5 fucking years!!!), slouched off in university, became a massive Terezi stan, drew lots of Homestuck comics. I ate a tons of Quiche as well. It was okay. I’m going to be honest, other than this blog taking off not a lot of interesting things happened to me in 2015. However, Undertale came out this year, so that was cool.

In 2016 - Found Dad increasingly difficult to live with as he was getting frustrated with... everything about me, for some reason. It sucked. Brexit happened, the US election happened, Homestuck Act 7 happened, Hiveswap went off the map. I don’t remember much about this year and I’m glad for it because I was not happy. I think this is when I joined the Homestuck Reddit though/

In 2017 - Graduated University!!!! Volunteered in a charity shop for a few months whilst looking for a job, did 5 weeks of crappy work experience in a job centre. What else happened this year? I’m sure it was a lot of things but really I can’t remember. Got myself a Nintendo Switch. Became a permanent member of the Homestuck Discord.

In 2018 - I secured myself a job! Hooray!!!! This alleviated the tensions with my dad, because he was happy that I was finally working. We’ve been on good terms since. As irritating as working in customer service for 8 hours a day can be, I liked that I was doing something all the time and the year could be a memorable one for that reason, rather than fading away like the previous 3 years had. The year was capped off by Deltarune, and being given a fuckton of wine by work contractors.

In 2019 - A lot of terrible videogames came out earlier this year but it was mitigated by the release of DMC5, which must be cherished by all. I was put on short-time in January after the first Reckoning, then I got my full hours back in March when given a new role. Then our main client went into administration, and the OMEGA-Reckoning happened and everybody else in my tier lost their jobs with me as the sole survivor. We had no wine this year either, which is the saddest thing honestly. Later in the year I started taking up driving lessons, and I’m hoping that I’ll be able to drive by spring, though my instructor thinks that is too optimistic. I’ve found driving tough because of how my brain works; I can only concentrate on one thing at a time, so when I’m doing something right I’m usually doing something else wrong.

What am I doing today - Sitting here playing Persona Q2 and humming the new Pokemon OP to myself because it is catchy. I will probably open the champaigne soon.

From 10 years ago I’ve grown significantly. It’s almost like I experienced my teen years later, because I was so stunted from how I lived. I feel like it’s only now I’m reaching the maturity level, and degree of self respect, to call myself an adult. I’ve always struggled with relating to people offline as well, but... I’m growing okay with that. Who needs other people anyway? They just bring in drama. If I’m comfortable being by myself, there’s nothing wrong with that.

#personal

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allmight-amiright · 5 years

Text

Who Even Am I. Bakugou Katsuki

Request: “can we pls get a part 2 to the “ghost” imagine? it hurt me so much ;-;” “i NEED a part two to who even are you maybe where bakugo realizes how empty his life is or even something where he later sees the reader with someone else but you just wrote it so nicely and the ending gets me i have to have more” “looooved this!!! do you think, that whenever you have time and feel inspired,,, that we maybe could get a part 2?” “Part 2????”

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Swearing. Swearing. And more swearing.

Notes: Ask and thou shall receive, my dear readers *insert evil scheming author here*

*Read Part 1 HERE*

*Read Part 3 HERE*

The door closed. You had actually done it. You left him. You had walked out the front door with your bags, your feelings, and your resentment, dead set on never coming back. The soft click of the door latching shut kept echoing through Bakugou’s ears. You hadn’t even yelled at him. You hadn’t slammed the door. You didn’t cry. You had been so… cold.

Bakugou hated that. He wished you had been angry. He wished you had slammed the door in his face. You should’ve made him angry with your anger. Anything to distract him from the pain that was bubbling in his chest. It was like he had an elephant sitting on his chest. He struggled to take a full breath of air. His head spun. He was just lost and he didn’t know how to deal with the sorrow. He couldn’t just rage this away. Even if he had wanted to, he didn’t think he could bring himself to be angry at you. Even now, with you out of his life, he couldn’t me mad at you. Maybe he was weak-willed. Maybe he just cared too much and didn’t want that guilt of yelling at your memory to haunt him if you ever did decide to come back. He didn’t know. He just knew that this hurt like hell.

He didn’t cry. No matter how many days and hours went by without you, he didn’t cry. Part of him was expecting you to be in the kitchen when he woke up, making a pot of coffee. He was expecting you to be sitting on the couch, laughing at reruns of your favorite sitcoms every evening when he got home. But you never were. The realization that you probably weren’t coming back just left him numb. He didn’t feel anything anymore. He wasn’t happy to go to work, because you wouldn’t be there to curl into bed with him when he got home. Being in that apartment was like a living nightmare. You had wiped every inch of you away. You had cleaned the lipstick stains off of the mirror from all of those days where you wanted to see which one looked the best without having to actually put it on first. You had thrown out the set of sheets that had nail polish stains, because you had just had to paint his nails, but you had accidentally knocked the bottle over, leaving a nice pink stain. You erased all of your shows from the DVR. Your favorite coffee cup wasn’t in the cabinet anymore. If anyone who hadn’t known either of you walked in, they would’ve been convinced that he lived alone all of this time.

Despite everything that you had said to him when you walked out, he threw himself even deeper into his work. He needed that distraction. He needed to be away from that apartment as long as possible. He was afraid of what might happen if he stayed there for too long. He just wanted to get over you, erase you from his memory, but it never failed that the minute his mind had the opportunity to wander, it always drifted to you. He would think about your smile every time you laughed. About the lipstick stains on his coffee cup every morning where you would taste his to make sure that it was just how he liked it and the inevitable gag of distaste because “How can anyone drink coffee without cream?” The smell of pancakes on those few days where neither of you had work. Throwing pillows at you because you had made him blush over something stupid. Your cheesy notes that you would leave around the apartment. Things like, “Is your name Google? Because you have everything I’m searching for” on his laptop, or “You don’t need keys to drive me crazy” on his key ring.

It wasn’t until he had to go grocery shopping that his world came crashing down. He had returned to the apartment, arms full with bags of produce and other necessary household items. You had always done the shopping on your day off. Things were always in their place by the time he got home, so how the hell was he supposed to know where you used to keep the sugar? The kitchen was a disaster by the time he had things put away. He moved to the laundry room, ready to put the final thing away. He pulled the old bottle of detergent down from the shelf and turned to throw it in the trash can. But, he stopped. A pink sticky note that he had never found before was stuck to the back of the bottle. It was obviously old. The pen had started to fade, but he could still read it just fine.

“Love you LOADS! Love, Y/N”

Before he could stop himself, his lip started to shake and his face heated up. The tears streamed down his face in rivers that had no sign of stopping. He probably looked so stupid, sitting on the floor, clutching a bottle of laundry detergent to his chest as he shook with sobs, but he didn’t care. A month’s worth of bottled up emotions finally spilled and there was no stopping the pain that came back. He missed you. He missed you so Goddamn much. His heart physically ached just thinking about you, knowing that you were out there somewhere doing just fine without him. You were probably happier now than you had ever been with him. You had been right. He had pushed you away. He didn’t realize it until then, but you were right. He had strayed away from you so far that looking back on it, he didn’t even recognize himself. You had stuck by him day after day as he worked his body to death, even after you had advised him not to. You were always there physically, but emotionally, he was able to finally see the different story. He always believed that you stopped asking about his day because you were just as tired as he was, but he never you about yours, so why would you bother to ask about his? He had been cold to you. That had never been his intention. He cared about you and he would travel to the corners of the universe if it would’ve made you happy. But, thinking on it, Bakugou couldn’t remember the last time you had smiled. The last time you had laughed or poked fun at him. Had it really been that long? Had he really made you miserable for that long? Surely…

But you wouldn’t have left if you had been happy.

He didn’t know what to do anymore. He had held himself back for so long. He had been strong. He pretended like he didn’t care whenever the others at the agency asked what had happened. But each “We broke up. It’s not a big deal.” hurt. Each time he had to face the truth felt like someone had just hit him over the head with a brick. But, still, here he sat in the middle of the laundry room, his body racking with sobs over some stupid note that you had probably left back when you still did love him loads. But, he had changed and you had adapted with him. He was distant so you did what you had to in order to protect yourself. That just happened to be walking out of his life without so much as a goodbye.

His hand fumbled in his pocket, trying to pull his phone out. He just needed you or someone to tell him that everything was going to be okay. He punched in the number that he now knew by heart. It rang and rang and rang.

“Hi! You’ve reached Y/N. Sorry that I missed your call, but if you leave me a message, I’ll be sure to get back to you!”

Of course you didn’t answer. It was midnight. You were probably fast asleep, not thinking about him anywhere near as much as he was thinking about you. Even if you were awake, you probably saw that it was him and just let it ring, not wanting to deal with his bullshit anymore. He hit the end call button and scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he wanted.

Two rings.

“Hello?” the rough voice answered. Even through the phone, Bakugou could sense the sleep.

“Kirishima? Are you awake?”

“I am now.”

“I’m sorry. For everything. I know that it’s probably stupid of me to have called, but I just- I just really need someone to talk to,” he muttered, trying his best to mask the fact that he had been crying.

“Dude, this is ridiculous. You call me in the middle of the night after not speaking to me in, what? Three months? All because you fucked up and now you feel bad about it,” Kirishima spits out.

“I know, I know. And I feel bad ab-”

“No, you don’t. If you felt any bit of remorse towards what you had done, you would’ve called sooner. Not when you want me to make you feel better. What about all of those times when I’ve called you and just wanted to talk to my best friend, but you were always too busy for me. Man, you have done jack shit for anyone but yourself and I’m over it. What? So you finally have your break down because she left. Can you fucking blame her?! When’s the last time you did something nice for her? Don’t call me because you want to talk about your problems when we still have problems, dude.”

“Kirishima, please, I just-” Bakugou pleads, the tears in his eyes threatening to spring free once again.

“Just stop, man. I’m sorry that you’re upset, I really am. Despite everything, I do still consider you my friend, but I’m not going to come running to your aid in the middle of the night, because you wouldn’t do the same thing for me. You fucked up and this is your karma. Your girlfriend dumped you, your friends aren’t there for you, isn’t your life just awful now? What do you think we’ve been going through, huh? You’ve been so oblivious that your relationships were failing, yet we were all suffering, wondering what the hell we ever did to deserve this kind of treatment from you.”

“I’m sorry, okay! I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry! You’re right, okay? I’m a shit friend and a shit boyfriend, I get it! You don’t have to remind me. I fucked up. I fucked everything up! I’m a failure who took everything I had for granted. Is that what you wanted me to say? I’m sorry for being the worst human being on the planet! I’m sorry that I pushed you away! I’m sorry that I pushed everyone away! I’m fucking sorry, okay?”

Kirishima scoffed. “Man, you lost the ability to fix everything with sorry a long time ago.”

“Please, Kiri-”

“Stop. I’m done talking about this. Goodnight,” Kirishima says, hanging up before Bakugou has the opportunity to get another word in.

You stir from your sleep when you hear the young man next to you start grumbling. “Eijirou? Who was on the phone?”

“Bakugou,” he says, rolling his eyes and putting his phone back on the bedside table. He lays back down, nestling into the covers beside you. He wraps an arm around you, letting you lay his head on his shoulder. “It’s nothing to worry about. Just go back to bed, sweetheart.”

#mha #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero #boku no hero imagines #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #katsuki #bakugou katsuki #kirishima #kirishima eijirou #eijirou #angst #muhahahahaha #part 2 #imagine #x reader

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

Shop owner ends in hot water for being a crook

Cast: Me - yours truly, F - friend and coworker, B - boss, or bastard, you choose.

Some backstory (sorry for the long one, but there are things I need to make clear):

This happened 10 years ago. I was 18 and this was during the spring period of my junior year. I wanted to get money for a new mobile phone and a school trip to Austria, in order to practice on my German (my major was Math and German). My dad didn't want to give me the necessary 350 Euros for them, even though I was a 4.0 GPA student, calling me spoiled and selfish and asking me to get a job, just like all other normal teens at that time (actually none of my classmates were working, all were given the world by their parents for being in one of the most elite high schools in the city, but hey, you can't choose your family). So I got me a job at a local tobacco shop. It was right across my block of flats, so it was taking me 2 minutes to run from my flat to the shop, no big deal.

The owner of the shop (B) was a short man in his 40s, a man with good demeanor, or so I thought. He owned 4 other shops and needed workforce. We initially agreed for a payment of 15 Euros/day, I would work 4PM to 1AM, 4 days a week, including Saturdays and Sundays, so I would not miss on my schooling. He would pay me once every 2 weeks and even stated he would give me a raise after the first month.

The tobacco shop was selling not only tobacco products, but also alcohol, coffee, nuts, candy, chips, coke and its products etc. It allowed customers to get a cup of coffee which was freshly ground, as well as freshly squeezed orange or grapefruit juice.

So I started in the beginning of March. I was working with two other people, a 45-ish-year-old fat woman with a whining character, who would usually take the morning shifts from 6AM to 4PM and a 19-year-old beautiful girl (F). Also, I need to mention that, at that time, the store would share a toilet with a Courier service office, this is important for later.

There is one more thing I need to add - my country's labour codex states that employees must get a double payment during official holidays and also have at least 12 hours of rest between shifts. This is also important for later.

So initially I was doing fine - I did a couple of days of training, I learnt how to operate and clean the coffee machines, the juice machine, the cashier, the receipts (I needed to press Enter 3 times to enter the products in the system and take a receipt), this is important for later as well). It was quite easy, because I operated fast with money and calculations, and overall was quite trustworthy. I had some small incidents with minors who came asking for beer and cigarettes, but I would not sell the items to them, as it is illegal (my colleagues didn't care about that, but I was taught to uphold the law). Some of the frequent customers, who lived in the hood, would also initially be annoyed with me as well, because they were expecting from me to know the brand of cigarettes they smoke. Yes, there would be conversations like "two packs of my cigarettes - which brand? - Marlboro, you are supposed to know that - sorry, I only work here since recently - well, I come here every day, you should have remembered by now...". Eventually, this stopped, but I got the stink eye from some of them from time to time, because I am a sworn non-smoker, for me all cigarettes are poison, no matter the brand and the strength, and they didn't like that.

Overall, the job was not hard, and I had free Wi-Fi, so I would often bring my laptop to watch Youtube videos or listen to music online (at that time smartphones were expensive as hell and I had a regular mobile phone)

My first two fortnightly salaries were okay. I was supposed to get 120 Euros each, I got something like 110, but this was because I would get a random snack from the shop when I got hungry, and B would deduct all from my payment, which was okay. Also, B initially wanted me to add the tip to the cashier (the tip was the change (5, 10, 20 cents), which the customers would often not take and in the end it would add up to a few Euros), but we agreed for it to remain for me, as the other employees would also take it with them.

A month has passed. It was April, the days started to get warmer and B had permission to set a couple of coffee tables with chairs in front of the shop, so customers could drink their coffee and have a chat with a friend. I was instructed to take the tables and chairs back in the shop around 20:00, and a sign was posted on its front door.

So here started the problems.

After my first month I approached B for a raise, he said I was still a bit rusty and to wait at least 2 more weeks. He also gave me the contract to sign. I never got a copy, but, since this was my first job, I didn't know I needed one. I never got a raise as well, because I was "losing his customers". Bastard.

I had good relations with our colleagues at the courier office, but once I had a problem with them, because I took out the trash, but forgot to clean the juice machine. I threw the orange remains in the toilet, but one tiny piece of orange seemed to remain on the edge, so I was yelled by B and was fined 10 Euros.

There were two other times I was fined 10 Euros, for forgetting to turn the outside lights off and for forgetting to put the daily report in the shop log, but this was my fault. My second coworker would also report me for missing a trash bag or failing to put the items in the fridges in order, but she never took out the trash and never tidied up, so this actually went against her. I never had problems with F.

I had problems with some of the local customers, though. I live in a considerably poor neighbourhood and there are different types of scumbags who live there. There is this group of 10 people, in their late 40s and 50s, who are alcoholics and were sitting at the coffee tables until dark, as if this was the local pub. When I asked them to leave, because it went past 20:00 and I had to take the tables to the shop. I was yelled by them drunks and later by B as well, because I was "losing frequent customers for being rude and disrespectful to them", even though I almost ended up in a knife fight with one disgusting animal.

The cherry on the cake was the incident with an entitled mother, because she had sent her child to buy her beer and cigarettes and I refused to sell the items to him, because it is against the law. I then got a fine of 30 Euros by B and was pretty pissed.

In the last week of my work, in the beginning of June, B asked me to go and work in other shops, stating there was a sick employee and he needed me there. It was Friday, I ended up working from 15:00 to 22:00 in the local shop, then he took me to one of the other shops, where I worked from 23:00 to 08:00 on Saturday. Then he asked me to work from 23:00 to 11:00 on Sunday and wanted me to be at 16:00 in my local shop, but I refused, because I was exhausted. He threatened to not pay me extra, and we agreed to go to the shop at 19:00, after I got some sleep (I was supposed to get at least 12 hours between the shifts, as I mentioned above, but he didn't care).

After this exhausting time B wanted to change me to another shop, but I refused due to my schooling and also because I wanted to remain in the same shop. But he got some new workers and said I would not be working until the end of the week. Eventually I understood he had terminated my contract and also refused to pay me for the last 2 weeks, nearly 200 Euros in total with the extra shifts.

There are a few more things, which are important:

Some of my free days I spent with F. She was at work and I was in the shop with her, having a chat and being together, because she had some mild form of anxiety and didn't want to remain alone. During this time I noticed she used a different combination to enter the products in the system - enter, enter, 1, enter. I understood that this would enter the items in the system, but would not send the information to the receipt machine, and this would not get a receipt and thus the boss would not have to pay VAT for the items. I also understood later that he asked for everyone else to do it, everyone but me, because I wanted everything to be legal.

There was a new coworker, whom B liked and tried to seduce. He was overtly sexist and wanted to hire attractive girls, whom to pay more and to be more clingy towards them. I didn't like that at all. So the new coworker ended up being very crooked and actually stole around 400 Euros, which B blamed me for, and said he had camera recordings, but this was all bullshit.

So after all of this I was angry and wanted revenge. Initially I spoke to a friend, who advised me to report him to the local Labour Inspection office, which I did. It almost ended with a lawsuit and I was threatened by my boss this would cost me dearly, so I backed my claim, because I needed a clean legal certificate, because I was going to the Bulgarian Naval Academy in a year and didn't want to jeopardize my future. My dad got softer on me and paid for my phone and the trip, saying I earned them, because it wasn't my fault for why I didn't have the money, it was the moron of a boss.

Years have passed. I got discharged due to medical reasons and came back to my hometown. I got a new job and was living with my father, until I get better. The shop was still owned by this prick and he was going around town in a very expensive car, and I even saw him once to smoke Cohiba cigars, which usually go 15-20 Euros a piece. In the mean time he was still paying 15-20 Euros a day to the shop assistants, and I understood he was desperate for workforce.

So I decided to turn all of this against him. I knew some of the workers, as we grew up together, and they complained how much of a crook B was. I hated him for being so cheap on his employees and so large in personal spending. We started a rumour about how bad of a boss he was and to stay away from him. Word got out and he not only started losing assistants, but no one would want to ask him for a job.

One time police was nearby. Someone had broken one of the shop's large windows with a stone and stolen a large amount of cigarettes. The losses were for about a thousand euros, from what I understood. B also had to pay for a new window, and that would cost him more. Apparently, he had pissed off a lot of people.

I also suggested to some of his former employees, whom I knew vaguely, to file individual reports against B in the local Labour inspection office, like I did all those years ago. I explained they would definitely rattle his cage. A lot of reports went in, and I understood there was a major inspection of all shops. They could also use my information, but I asked them to take me off the case, I didn't want any recompense, only to watch him burn.

Eventually, B disappeared. What I understood, is that he ended up with a lot of problems, because he was charged with mistreatment of his personnel, violation of the Labour codex, felony tax evasion and a number of other charges.

So far I know that he is somewhere in the UK, while the business is handled by his brother and wife. His shops were cut in half due to the lack of workers, and I understood they were about to close another one as well. His business is not as successful as before, and I also understood it is frequently inspected.

Now, I know B didn't end up in jail, or at least I don't know about it. But I don't care. Sooner or later everyone gets what they deserve. I will not be the person to put him behind bars, but most of those people still greet me with smiles and give me updates on the case. They also thank me for giving them the idea of filing reports and using their rights. I guess I am the mastermind behind all of this, and, to be honest, I will be extremely happy, when he gets what he deserves from being a crook and a piece of trash. And the best part is - I don't have to do anything about it.

TLDR - I had a disgusting crook for a boss during my first job. He exploited me and other employees, I suggested to them to file reports against him, and he got into a lot of trouble for this.

(source) story by (/u/zerberos666)

#prorevenge #by /u/zerberos666 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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