#monday is like a splash of ice cold water | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wxniesrxse · 2 years

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Dreams Come True:Chapter2:Eunha

Pairing: You x JAYJAY

Genre: fluff, real life issues?

Warning: none! Or maybe some scenes could trigger someone?

School started two weeks ago. Now it's Monday and it's time for you to wake up! Your mom tired of shaking you to wake up decided to have the greatest idea of putting ice and cold water in big cup and to splash it on your face.

Yeah she did that.

"MOOOOOOOOM" you shriek feeling the coldness hit your face,neck,and chest. "Whyyy did you do that! How rude...." You narrowed your eyebrows together obviously showing her your mad. "I try waking you up but you have such deep sleep, worst than your father....you left me no choice and it worked! Now hurry, go to school ! I do not want you staying home and be all lazy, quick!" Your mom rambled and left your room.

"Ahhhrg!" You threw a pillow on your wall just to release some anger. Immediately you did your morning routine which was...

1. Wash your face with only water.

2. Brush teeth.

3. Change into dark clothes because the darkness seems to fit you best!

4. Do NOT interact with your adorable puppy she for sure will make you miss the bus...and lastly......eat breakfast.....an apple....because there's no cereal and milk today.

"I hate this morning.....". You mumbled quietly closing the fridge. Then you heard the sounds of tiny footsteps of your puppy Luna. You quickly covered your eyes trying to avoid. You passed by her. "No no, do not follow me Luna! I'll be late because of your fault!". The tiny white fluffy puppy follow you from behind making small whiny noises.

"Y/n! The buss is here! What are you doing?" Your father yelled as he looked through the window. "I'm going...." You whined. You grab your backpack and didn't wave a goodbye to Luna.

You sat in last seat of the bus. You took out your phone and AirPods. You face the window while listening to music regretting not saying hello or a see you later to your precious puppy. She's the only living thing you care the most.

From far away you didn't notice that someone watched you leave from your house to the bus.

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

You were on your own world listening to music. Your eyes only focusing on whatever was going on in front of you; boys fighting over a skateboard, boys doing Rock Paper Scissors over who's gonna be the one paying their next meal, girls gossiping about the "ugly duckling" of the school who's in a relationship with one of the popular boys .......well that teaches you that in life ugly girls can also beat the pretty ones when in comes to dating the handsome guy in school. Then a girl run from the restroom screaming "My hair is falling!" She cried holding the piece of hair between her fingers. Why would she even say that out loud? Actually the real question is why did she brought a iron curlier in school?

Whatever was going on in your daily chaotic mornings you didn't care.....you were focusing on going to your reading classroom.

But it seems that you won't be able to make it there early.

"Hey loser!......did you brought my snacks?...." The girl who was in the gossip group looked at you with an eyebrow raised up. Her arms crossed over her chest, the waves of her dark hair spread all over her broad feminine shoulders. She nudge on your back. You rolled your eyes but didn't look at her. You breath out.

The tall girl walked in front of you trying to intimidate you....which she wasn't honestly. "Sooooo....I gave you two days......my snacks!" She fake smiled sweetly her hand in front of your face wanting her precious snacks. Last Friday she told you to buy her certain type of snacks in order for you not get bully by her. If you remember well a month ago you did stole her "man" and that got her furious.....well more like Jihoon was the one who wanted to be with you and no longer with her, but you broke up with him because you seriously did not want to deal with all the harassments of that girl. I know it was pretty weak of you to let him go but you soon got over him.

It seem wasn't easy for him to let you.

" look Eunha, Jihoon and I broke up a month ago, why are you still so mad about it?......is it because he prefer over the loser than the pretty popular girl with a bratty personality?" You chuckled at the last sentence. " get over it! And no I didn't brought your stupid snacks!" You were about to walk away but that Eunha clutched onto your forearm stopping you.

"Who do you even think you are to talk down to me like that you ugly fly-"

"Eunha, you still ask me why I don't want to go out with you again?.....you told me you would change....yet you keep treating people like this....." A boy said. He was next to them almost between them. He looked at Eunha with a disgusted look. Then his dark eyes landed on you. He didn't show no expression just a blank one. He looks away from her and walks forward.

"W-wait Jihoon! She provoked me! She started this fight!....Hoonie wait!....". Eunha whined as she followed behind him. "Tch.....". You shook your head and chuckled at that ridiculous girl.

There wasn't no distraction this time. You turn on the volume up to your favorite song and made your way to your class. Soon you walk inside the classroom and sat in your assigned seat. It was in the middle row next to a window. You sat there alone for a few minutes until the bell ring. Kids walked inside the classroom filling up the seats. After a while the teacher walked in the class followed by a boy.

And you knew that boy. Jay.

"Hello class, we have a new student, please introduce yourself". Mrs. Kim said with a smile. "Hello my name is Takagi Justin Jay and I hope we can all get along". He smiled at everyone. He wore the school's uniform: dark navy blue jacket, white dress shirt with a red and white tie, and beige pants. Jay's once long hair was cut short. He looked like a really rich kid.

You bit your bottom lip trying to hide your face away from him. "Why do I keep hiding from him? This is so not you! You didn't do anything wrong so why are you hiding.....stop it and look at him!" You thought and quickly you sat up with confidence.

"He looks handsome.....very handsome...."

" you look foreign". A girl said.

"I'm half Japanese and half American...." Jay answered her with an easy going smile.

"Yeah your name is unique, how did you learn Korean?" Another girl ask curios.

" I've lived in Korea for 2 years then went back to Japan and now I'm back here....." he replied.

"Yeah and my man knows how to sing, dance, skate, and play games on computer! He's great!" James said while counting his fingers. Jay did small jumps excited to see his friend.

"Alright sit in any empty seat......class, in four days we are having a quick quiz" the teacher started teaching. The blond boy sat next to James, both of them sharing a friendship handshake and laughed about it. Jay looked around the class passing to look at you but his eyes retrieve back at you. He stop smiling trying to figure out if it was really you.

His curiosity was answered when you look back at him with a smile. You slightly bowed your head. Jay smiled again as he looked away from you with pink cheeks.

"It's her.....we have the same class,same teacher, and same friends.....this is going to be a good year...." That happy boy thought.

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

Thank You For Reading!

Remember don't be a silent reader シ

@enhacolor @justamochi @neyrensazii

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rawiswhore · 2 years

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Scott Hall x Fem Reader- "Cold as Ice"

Scott Hall hadn't been in the World Wrestling Federation since 1996.

However, he made a comeback in that company when he and the NWO reunited and joined the WWF in 2002.

But the NWO's comeback was a complete flop, so was Scott Hall's attempt at a comeback.

In 2002, before Scott left the WWE/F due to alcoholism, he took part in a wet T-shirt contest that had you, Stacy Keibler and Torrie Wilson.

This wet T-shirt contest was on a "Monday Night Raw" episode, and it involved Scott spraying some women with water shooting out of a Supersoaker.

You'd much rather have Scott spray you with a Supersoaker than that bloated pervert Jerry Lawler, who is old enough to be your father.

Either way, during the wet T-shirt contest, you were up first, where you shed a silky robe to reveal your outfit of choice, which was a thong, a tight T-shirt with no bra underneath and high heeled, open toed stilettos.

After tossing your robe away, you reclined yourself on the ropes, resting your arms across the top rope while leaning your body as well as arching your head back, lifting your feet off of the floor while you leaned yourself back.

While you leaned your body back on those ropes, Scott was standing in front of you and aimed his Supersoaker in his hands at your chest, where he began pumping that plastic watergun as hard and fast as he could until ice cold water spurted out of it.

Ice cold water did shoot out of that Supersoaker he held, where his mouth smirked as he sprayed you with that cold water.

The cold water aimed and hit at your chest, the water splashing and soaking across your chest.

He aimed the tip of that Supersoaker across your chest, making sure that cold water hits and shoots across both of your breasts.

The fabric of your shirt soaked and became damper, the color of your shirt at your chest area became darker when water splashed it, and your nipples began poking out of your shirt.

Many male fans were cheering for you and had their eyes on you, many of these grown male wrestling fans were whistling at you.

Scott could easily hold that Supersoaker in front of his crotch to make it seem like he's jizzing on you, which he easily could, no doubt about that.

Even though Scott was standing a few feet away from you, surprisingly his Supersoaker is hitting you right at your breasts.

And he wants to stand close enough to you to let that cold water hit your breasts and make your nipples poke out.

After your chest was soaked enough, you removed your arms off of the ropes and placed your feet back on the ring, strutting inside the ring and showing yourself off with your wet chest, your mouth smiling as you strolled inside the ring.

While you strutted in the ring, your hands grabbed the bottom of your shirt while you had this come hither look on your face.

You could easily turn around and let Scott Hall spray your ass cheeks with that Supersoaker.

You could also flash your chest to these eager, horny male fans.

No doubt there's some male wrestling fans chanting "Show your tits!", "show your puppies!" (which is Attitude era slang for a woman's breasts) and "We want puppies!").

Soon, Stacy Keibler and Torrie Wilson took part in this wet T-shirt contest, letting their chests get soaked and sprayed with water, although they were both wearing shirts as their tits got soaked.

______________________________________________________________

Yes, this fanfic is a recreation of when Terri Runnels and Trish Stratus had that wet T-shirt contest in 2002.

#scott hall #wwe #2002 #2000s #00s #stacy keibler #torrie wilson

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bratxfantasy · 1 year

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Giyuu went home and all he could think about was you. For some reason he couldn’t get you out of his head. He wanted to control you. Break you down and corrupt you before rebuilding you into the perfect doll just for him.

He went up to his bathroom and splashed his face with ice cold water. “What is wrong with me?” There was a gentle knock at his door. “Just a minute.” Leaving his bathroom, he opens his room door to find his sister had stopped by. “Oh, hey, Tsutako.”

Tsutako held up a bento she had made for her brother with a smile. “I made you dinner since I know that you probably skipped lunch.”

A small smile tilts at his lips as those intrusive thoughts seemed to vanish when his sister was around. “Thank you, sis. I appreciate it. Do you want to stay the night in your old room?” He had hoped that she would say yes. For his own sanity. He could not handle anymore of those thoughts about you, his new TA.

“I would but I need to get back to my husband. Maybe tomorrow you can come and visit Tsukimi?”

“Sure.” He said as he walks his sister out. That night Giyuu had dreams of you. His pretty little TA on your knees in front of him.

Monday came sooner than appreciated. I was excited for my first day at the university, but I was also a bit nervous. This will be my first day at Tokyo university as a student and I will be so out of place.

Checking to make sure my outfit was up to par, a black skirt and a black v-neck shirt tucked in with some black knee high socks and vans — I sighed. “I look like a gothic bitch.” I said to myself in the mirror, but I was already running late so I had no time to change.

Grabbing my cute little backpack I got from the store, I walked to the university, being the last one to enter Sensei Tomioka’s class. He was about to shut the door when I ran in. “Please excuse my tardiness, Tomioka Sensei!” I shout behind me as I ran past him, practically knocking his glasses off and into the sea of people ready for lecture.

#👑 yandere giyū 👑#tw yandere

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vendettaparker · 3 years

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Tom Holland x actress reader

Where are there in the same movie together and the cast goes out and Tom and reader really likes eachother maybe smut and after it’s really awkward between them fluff with a sprinkle of angst

Not In Love [T.H]

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: sexual themes, cursing, slight angst, probably some typos

a/n: hi hi! i’m so sorry but i don’t write smut, so i hope it’s ok that i just implied it! i will probably start writing smut in the future but for right now i find it a bit awkward for myself to write. also, sorry that this took so long to get out, i planned for this to only be like 800-1k words, and obvioulsy, it just kept going. hope this works well for you!

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

(Y/N) (L/N) does not fuck around with co-stars. Ever since you started acting at the young age of eight, you were always told by your mom, manager, and others in the industry to avoid casual, co-star related hook ups. As your career progressed, even through puberty, you remained faithful to your vow. No mingling with co-workers in a non professional manner. Sure, some of your previous co-stars and you remained good friends, even after filming. But the main internal lesson always stayed the same: don’t fuck your co-stars.

In your long and glorious career, the only hindrance to your resolve was Tom fucking Holland. His stupid British charm and playful wiles always had your knees buckling and the butterflies in your stomach going haywire. And when he called you darling? In that stupid, yet honey-like accent? You were done for.

Tom had the absolute pleasure of working with you in The Devil All The Time. He watched all of your movies and practically grew up watching you on Disney Channel. To say he was simply starstruck would’ve been an understatement, he was enamoured. Practically in love. And when he got to know how kind and sweet you were in real life—not just on screen— he just had to turn on his British charm, just to watch you squirm.

Every little comment he made caused your skin to tingle. Your stance on co-star relationships had never been so harshly challenged. He would constantly call you whatever cute pet name he could think of at the time, and unluckily for you, they always seemed to just roll right off his tongue. He even went out of his way to grab you a coffee if he went out to get one, or he’d ask his brother to make sure to bring back your signature order: caramel macchiato with almond milk, two pumps of vanilla, and extra caramel drizzle. How he knew that was your go to order was a mystery to you.

It’s not like you didn’t retaliate with your own antics though. Sometimes during his scenes you send him a wink and a smile, just to watch him lose focus. Or maybe you’d tease him about the way he says croissant, but then also say it in the over pronounced way he does, just to bug him. On days when the sexual tension between you two was especially palpable, you’d kiss his cheeks after his scenes and say “good job, babe” or something else to rile him up. So no, you weren’t innocent in this matter at all.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

This build up of tension was bound to boil over at some point. But why the fuck did it have to be during the fucking full cast and director dinner?

You all arrived at the fancy restaurant, all 40+ of you. You sat next to Eliza and secretly hoped that Sebastian, Harry, or even Robert would take the seat next to you, anyone but Tom. He had been especially touchy that day, and you knew if he continued his ministrations, especially under the cover of a table, your resolve would surely fade away.

Unfortunately for you, Tom practically bolted to the seat next to you. You scooted a bit closer to Eliza, who nudged your shoulder playfully.

“You should just give in.” She stated, smirking the whole time. “Look at him, poor thing just wants some love and attention.” she giggled, nodding her head to where Tom was whispering with Harry on the other side of him.

“Stop it, you’re insufferable.” You rolled your eyes, but still smiled at the joking banter.

“(Y/N), hon, he’s one of the hottest celebrities in Hollywood right now, and he wants you.” Eliza pinched your makeup covered cheek, “you’re telling me you don’t wanna just jump in his pants? Do you not find him hot or something?”

You smacked her hand away, “No, I do find him attractive, I just d—”

“Find who attractive, love?” Tom interrupted, smirking at the comment he heard. No, he didn’t know for sure you were talking about him, but one can hope.

“Nobody,” you dismissed, “I was just telling Eliza here that I think her dog is cute, right Eliza?”

“Sure.” She mumbled, rolling her eyes dramatically, then winking directly at Tom, just out of your view.

“Ah, I see.” He chuckled, “Yes, you find her dog attractive then?”

“No!” You defended, red faced from being backed into a hole, “I didn’t even use that word; you’re just hearing things.”

“Don’t worry, love. I find you absolutely, without a doubt, drop dead gorgeous.” Tom winked, before returning back to his conversation with Harry.

Eliza pinched your side, causing you to yelp. “See, I told you!” she whisper-yelled, a knowing smirk dawning her face.

“You didn’t tell me shit.”

“Ugh, whatever, you’re hopeless.” She sighed, just as the waiter was coming around to take your orders.

The majority of the evening went by just as simply and smoothly as possible, it was when dessert arrived that Tom stirred up trouble once again. His damned British charm made him the perfect devil in disguise.

“Darling, you have some cake right—” he licked his thumb before drawing it over your bottom lip, slowly, “here.”

He smirked at your surprised gaze and wiped the chocolate cake from your rose-painted lip. Never breaking his gaze, he drew his thumb back to his mouth and sucked on the digit, gently humming at the sweet taste of chocolate and strawberry lip gloss that flooded onto his tongue. This bitch.

You cleared your throat and ceased your—more than obvious— gawking. He wasn’t going to win this time. You sat quietly, smirking as he watched your every move, simply waiting for retaliation. And it came soon enough, when you knocked your water off the table into his lap, on accident, of course.

He jolted up the second the cold water hit his slacks, cursing, yet still keeping that charming smirk on his lips. You immediately started the steady stream of apologies, a faux look of remorse etched on your face. The rest of the cast simply looked on, none the wiser.

“Oh Tom! Gosh, I am so sorry.” You stood up as well, taking the napkin from your lap and dabbing his torso where the water splashed up. “I’m just so clumsy, forgive me.” You looked up at him with false serenity in your eyes, but a devilish grin.

“No worries, love.” He mused, “I’m just going to go dry off in the washroom. Could use some help though; it’s the least you could do.” The rest of the cast went back to their desserts and conversation, so they failed to notice the hidden glint in Tom’s eyes or the lustful insinuation behind his request.

“Sure.” You smiled up at him, determined not to lose this game of cat and mouse. You followed him to the large family restroom in a dimly lit corridor. He opened the door and gestured for you to go in first. What a gentleman, hm?

He closed the door behind him and locked it before undoing the buttons on his dress shirt and removing it. His toned torso also damp with freezing droplets of ice water.

You sucked in a shaky breath, taking in his less than professional, disheveled look. “You gonna come help me, princess?” He reached for paper towels and grabbed a handful, dabbing the wet spot on his lap, right over his crotch.

“I—um, sorry,” you snapped out of it. Following his movements, doing the same but to his wet torso.

“You’re okay, love.” He looked at you, the close proximity of your bodies creating the most delicious heat in the bathroom. Tom leaned in slightly, just until your noses were brushing against one another. “Though, I’ll admit, the fact that you're not giving me an apology kiss right now, makes this a little less than okay.”

You didn’t even process your actions completely, the second those words left his mouth yours lips were on his. You held his face in your hands, rough passion seeping through your entire body, and he was just the same. He kissed you fervently, holding your waist with one arm and the back of your head with his opposite hand, tangling his fingers into your hair. The tension and desire that had been building up for almost as long as you’ve known him finally boiling over.

Tom gingerly inched his hand up the side of your leg, under your dress.

“Wait, wait,” you pulled away, breathlessly, “we need to get back, they’re probably wondering where we are.”

Tom was about to concede when a knock rang through the room.

“Hey guys,” It was Eliza, “Seb paid for all of us, so we’re gonna head out. Take your time! Oh, and use protection!” You could practically hear the smirk on her face.

Tom stopped your little scowl by returning his attention to kissing you, “How lucky are we?” he mused, repositioning his hands, starting to fumble with the zipper of your dress.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The next Monday at work was hell. You spent the whole weekend internalizing your little rendezvous in the bathroom. Tom texted you nearly fourteen times over the two day break period where you didn’t see each other, and you ignored every single one of them. The first ones were simple ‘hey’s’, ‘hi’s’, and ‘good morning’s’, but they soon progressed to show Tom’s concern over you not responding. The last message being,

Tom: I hope you know, I don’t regret it, but I’m sorry if you do.

You didn’t mean to ghost him, but your feelings were so confusing. You liked him and the things he did to you. But you had a code. And maybe the ‘don’t date your co-worker’ was a bit old school and shitty, but you’d been able to stick to it for this long and your work has never been better. Then again, all your previous boyfriends have been assholes; constantly upset over how busy your schedule was. Maybe a fellow actor would be more understanding?

The second you arrived to set Harry was on your ass.

“(Y/N), hey!” He called to you from the snack table where he was talking with Tom. You gave him a small smile and wave, but proceeded to your makeup chair. He motioned for you to join them, but you waved your hand in dismissal and gave him an apologetic look. Whether or not you regretted your night with Tom, you were absolutely not ready to confront it just yet. However, you didn’t miss the disappointed look on Tom’s face or the way Harry gave his brother a reassuring shoulder squeeze.

Harry even came up to you asking how your weekend was and if you were busy or not, no doubt trying to gauge your mood for Tom. You were friends with Harry so you didn’t mind talking to him, but when it was becoming apparent that you weren't giving much away as far as how you were feeling, Harry resorted to more ‘less than subtle’ questions.

“So… are you seeing anyone, currently?” He asked, playing with his fingers, the question struck you as extremely off-putting, especially since Harry said it with little to no confidence, like he really didn’t want to be asking that.

“Why? Are you trying to ask me out?” You teased. Watching him squirm was almost as fun as when it was Tom.

“No! No, I mean— I’m not opposed, you’re very pretty—no wait, I don’t mean it like that, I just—uh, I think you look nice, but not too nice—I’m gonna go.” Harry painfully stuttered out. Cursing under his breath as he walked away, back to where Tom was standing, watching on. These idiots were the most obvious divs in the whole world.

After you finished with your stylist, you were ready to start running lines for your scene. You have the majority of your scenes with Tom, so as per usual, you were acting opposite him. As the director was explaining how he wanted the scene to go, Tom kept glancing over at you, raising his eyebrows a bit, obviously wanting to clear the air.

The scene went by fine, but it was clear to many of the people around you that you were not on the top of your game today. It even got to the point where the director needed to ask if you needed a break. You said you didn’t and persisted. The scene was finally done to perfection, but it took almost double the amount of time it usually would for you.

Tom noticed you struggling the most and couldn’t help but feel guilty. He was quick to give you words of encouragement between takes, but you only responded with a quick ‘thanks’ and moved on.

When lunch time came around, the caterers were all set up and prepared on a different part of the lot. You quickly made your way over, running into Eliza on the way.

“Oh, hey (Y/N)!” she beamed at you. “Did you finish your scene?”

“Yeah, are you going to set right now?”

“Mhm, I’m shooting the scene at the church with Robert.”

“Well, good luck.” You smiled at her, about to move along when she grabbed your wrist.

“Wait, did something happen between you and Tom? He’s at the lunch table moping, even Seb is trying to cheer him up.”

“Um well no, I mean, maybe? I don’t know, I guess I’ve been avoiding him a bit.” You shrug, now not really wanting to go to lunch, but you know you have to. If you don’t show up then it’d be all too clear to Tom that you were definitely avoiding him.

“Oh, well, maybe just talk to him?” Eliza comfortably put a hand on your shoulder before walking away to set.

You continued to the lunch set up, seeing club sandwiches, soups, and cupcakes set up. You grabbed what you wanted and went to sit by Tom and everyone else. Yeah, you may have been avoiding him, but you didn’t want to make it that painstakingly obvious.

As soon as you sat down, Tom put his arm around you like he always did when you had lunch together. Only this time you stiffened up, not because you hated it, but because the action felt so different after what you both had done, it felt like it meant more. Tom noticed, of course, and removed his arm, frowning.

“Can I talk to you, (Y/N/N)?” he whispered to you, the rest of the table in their own little world, too caught up in their interactions to notice yours.

“Um, sure,” you mumbled in response, “but maybe when I have free time later? I’m just really hungry right now.” you gave him a small smile, trying to keep up the amicability.

He nodded and continued his conversation with Seb, who looked completely uninterested, but still continued responding since he could tell Tom was feeling shitty about something.

Later that evening, the entire cast had a one hour break since the next scene they wanted to shoot needed to be done at night and it wasn’t dark yet. That’s when Tom took you to his trailer to talk.

“Look, (Y/N), I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I can’t help but feel like you’re avoiding me.” He stated, once the door was shut and you were already seated on his couch.

“I’m not.”

“But you are. I can tell. You didn’t talk to me at all today, even when I made a joke that I knew you’d have the perfect come back to.” He sat next to you, but kept more of a distance than usual.

“I don’t have to talk to you, Tom. You can’t rely on me to keep you entertained.” You rolled your eyes, annoyed that you’d been caught.

“That’s not what I’m saying, (Y/N), and you know it.” Tom pointed a finger at you, equally annoyed now.

“Fine, so what if I was avoiding you? You’re a grown man, you can handle rejection can’t you?” You spat. The argument was quickly becoming more heated. If there was one thing you hated the most in the world, it was being called out, especially if you knew you were in the wrong.

“What the fuck is your problem today?” Tom asked, exasperated at how defensive you got so quickly.

“Tom, I’m sorry, but I don’t do this,” you motioned between the two of you, “I don’t do the cliche Hollywood, sleeps around, one night stand scenario, so back off.”

“So you regret it.” Tom looked down, trying to keep his emotions at bay. He really did like you, but maybe it was naive of him to assume that sleeping together would open the door to something more.

“No, I just—it shouldn’t have happened. I liked it, but I’m not that type of girl. I’m a relationship type of person. I never wanted to be another girl for you to mark down on your list of possible hook ups.” You sighed. Tom wasn’t necessarily notorious for random hookups, but he was a famous actor who just so happened to also be single. It was hard to not go there with your thoughts, so in your mind, you had him pegged.

“I’m a relationship person too, though. I wanted all of this. All of you.” Tom inched closer, gingerly taking your hands in his. “I may have gone about it wrong, I should’ve asked you out first or something.”

“Tom, stop.”

“No, (Y/N), because you’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t flirt with you or spend time with you just to get in your pants.” Tom pulled you closer. “I surrounded myself with you because I wanted you. And I think you want me too.”

You looked in his eyes, searching for any sign of insincerity, small as it might be, but Tom was being the most sincere he could possibly be. Tom cautiously leaned closer, just wanting one more kiss, even if it was the last. However, you were the one that took the final plunge and pulled him in, kissing him. You both moved together so fluidly, like you were made for each other.

When you did pull apart, Tom was the one to break the silence, “So does that mean you like me or…”

“I kissed you, didn’t I?”

#tom holland #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader angst #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagine #tom holland x actress!reader

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doctorstethoscope · 3 years

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Birthday Boy || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

just a little something something for Thomas Gibson’s birthday and @ssahotchswife Soft Hotch Saturday!

contains: food consumption, hiking, ocean/swimming

wc: 1.3k

You had always been big on birthdays, particularly for the people you cared about. You’d decided as a teenager that anything good was worth making great, and anything worth celebrating might as well be worth a parade. So when your boyfriend Aaron’s birthday was rolling around, you were prepared to pull out all the stops.

You’re sitting on the couch together, some baseball game on in the background while you toddle away on your laptop, about to buy tickets to a whiskey distillery tour for him, Rossi, Derek and Spencer when he stops you.

“Sweetheart, I love that you want to plan all of this for me, but I don’t really do birthdays. I’d really rather treat it just like any other day if that’s alright with you.” he’d stopped you.

“What do you mean? You made brunch and winery reservations for me and the girls on my birthday. I came home to a candlelit dinner and you and Jack made me a cake.” You argued.

“You love birthdays, and you deserved a special birthday, so I made sure you had one. I knew you’d want one.” He had explained as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“You deserve a special birthday too.” You countered.

“And I’ll have one, with you, and Jack, and probably one of his soccer games and a trip through the McDonald’s drive through before he falls asleep afterwards. And it will be everything I wanted because I spent it with the people that I love.” He had told you simply, and you melted, even if it did go against everything you believed in not to plan every second of the day out to a tee. But of course, you couldn’t do nothing.

Which is how you found yourself awake before Aaron on his birthday, wrapped in his arms and trying not to buzz with excitement so you could let him sleep. Eventually, he stirs, and you press a kiss to his lips before he can even open his eyes.

“Happy birthday, my love.” you whispered as sunlight filtered in through the blinds.

“Good morning,” he responds, in that raspy voice he has right when he wakes up.

“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“I just want to hold you for a little bit longer,” he requests.

“Well I guess, since it’s your birthday,” you teased him with a smirk and he smiled as he pulled you into his side. You threw your leg over both of his, bringing a hand to his chest and stroking your thumb back and forth against his sternum.

You stay that way for a long while, simply basking in the comfort of one another’s company, before you speak up.

“So, I know you said you wanted to treat today just like any other day… but I did plan a few things, just in case. I couldn’t let the most amazing man’s birthday pass without doing anything. I kept it simple-- just the three of us, but it’s totally up to you.” You assured him.

Aaron let out a little laugh at your statement. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to go without planning anything.” He sits up, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you. “What’s on the docket?” He asks with a smile.

“Well, I was looking into a hike on Chincoteague Island, and then I thought maybe we could check out the lighthouse and beach. I found a couple easy hikes that Jack should be able to make with pretty summits.”

“That sounds perfect, sweetheart. Thank you,” he said, leaning down to kiss you. Your phone buzzed, and you hopped off of his lap. He looked at you, surprised and a little betrayed.

“Also, I ordered your favorite donuts for breakfast. They’re here. Don’t move,” you explained, dashing to the front door to pay the delivery driver and coming back a few moments later with coffee, a donut, and Jack in tow.

“Happy birthday daddy!” Jack exclaimed, climbing up towards his father.

“Thank you, buddy,” he said, smoothing his hand through his son’s hair as you handed him his breakfast. “Did you hear about what we’re going to do today?” he asks.

Jack shakes his head and looks over at you, knowing that you are the master of all things party and celebration prep, and you laugh.

“I thought we might take Daddy on a hike and then go to the beach, does that sound fun Jack?”

He nods enthusiastically, and you lead him back to his bedroom to get dressed for the day. It takes some time, but eventually, the three of you are all packed up and make it out the door towards Chincoteague. The day is thankfully, not too hot while still being warm and sunny. The hike you’d picked was the perfect length for Jack, long enough to have a beautiful view at the summit, but not so long that he was too tired to appreciate it.

The three of you were sitting at the summit enjoying the view when Aaron spoke up. “I’m glad you suggested this.”

“I thought you might be,” you smiled, leaning over and pecking his cheek with a smile.

“Thanks for wanting to celebrate me even though I’m a grumpy old man,” he joked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You shook your head. “You’re not grumpy or old. You’re a compassionate, intelligent, loving father and boyfriend, and if I had it my way I’d celebrate you every day.”

He leaned over and kissed the top of your head. “Well, you’re saying this before you have to ice my knees tomorrow. You might change your mind.” He jokes, and you give him a playful shove.

“Says the guy who still racks up more points than the twenty year old recruits during the FBI physical.”

You sit for a little while longer, letting Jack take pictures with your cell phone to show his friends at school on Monday, and then you make your way back down the mountain, and back to the car so you can head to the beach.

After the hike, you were more than ready to cool off, but you were shocked by how cold the water was when you ran with Jack and Aaron into the ocean. You tried to turn around and run back out, but Aaron wrapped both arms around your waist and lifted you up, much to Jack’s delight.

“What do you think bud? Should I drop her?” Aaron teased his son.

“Yes!!” He squealed.

“Jack!!” You pleaded, smiling. “You have to save me, not help daddy!!”

“Come on, Jack. It’s dad’s birthday. Don’t you think I should dunk her?”

“Yes, yes yes!” Jack exclaimed, already splashing you.

Aaron, the smug bastard, winked at you before dropping you into the salty water. You gasped as you felt your skin form goosebumps from head to toe.

“You’re going to pay for that Hotchner!” You promised as you emerged from the water, jumping onto his back and dunking his head into the cold water.

“Me next!” Jack requested, laughing uncontrollably. “Me! Me, me please!” he asked, and you obliged him, taking him in your arms and dunking his head in the water, careful to keep his face dry so he didn’t get water into his lungs. He squealed and you lifted him back up, mirroring his smile.

You all romp around in the water for a little while longer, and then Jack decides to make a sandcastle while you and Aaron sit further back in beach chairs.

“Jack’s having a ball,” you remark, seeing his face light up as he upends a bucket of sand to form a tower.

“Me, too.” Aaron agrees, and you smile.

“See, birthdays aren’t all that bad.” You tease him.

“No, not when you’re around,” he agreed, taking your hand in his and kissing it. Now, he’d just have to buy a ring and get you to stick around for all of them.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you

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shewhowillnotbenamed1 · 4 years

Text

@cayeeast 🥰 You are never too late, my inbox is always open. :) I hope Damirae?! I have to preface this: I apologize in advance. I don’t really do fics like these—this is the first. But I want to grow, be a better writer, and try new things. I have never written anything like this before, so honestly, THANK YOU.

Prompts

--------------------------

"More sauvignon blanc, Miss?"

A bottle of wine was withdrawn from the metal ice bucket, lifted by their waiter's practiced hands. Beads of ice cold perspiration were congealing, beginning to travel downward as Raven swallowed another gulp of air. Though it was slight, her grasp began to shake around her cutlery. She had done her very best not to look at the bottle during the duration of the meal.

Now it was practically in her face, sweating.

Her breath hitched in her throat, as she watched the condensation continuing a steady drip.

It was quite possibly mocking her.

The moment seemed to stretch on before veering into uncomfortable, until both gentlemen glanced down at her untouched white.

"Malbec, sir?"

"Please."

The waiter gently replaced the white before disturbing the red. He swept around the table to refill another glass for Damian, who murmured a polite thanks.

Damian fingered the long, thin stemmed wine glass and turned it towards himself in circles. Several rotations were completed to air out the liquor. He guided the blackened magenta beverage to his lips and sipped thoughtfully.

"Raven."

Though Raven didn't immediately glance up, she was focusing on her meal rather intently. She shuffled slices of swordfish steak and capers to make them chase her chanterelle mushrooms and root vegetables around the triangular shaped plate in different patterns.

Of course, the half-demon was sure to select the appropriately suited silverware as she did so. Her efforts were starting to slow, however, as the lemon cream sauce became nearly nauseating when paired with seafood vapors.

Did fish always smell quite so pungent?

"Is there something wrong with the food?" She refocused on the handsome face of her dining companion, flickering in and out of the candelabra light.

"No, it's wonderful," Raven insisted. "Really, wonderful—great... presentation." His emerald eyes parsed the perfectly placed parsley and the latticework of sauce that was now a soupy mess saturating a plate of parsnips and fish.

"Oh, well it must have been." Damian exhaled sharply out of the corner of his mouth. "But, I'll always say nothing is too beautiful to eat..." He drawled.

"I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought..." she mumbled, flushing a little more than delicately.

"I hope our waiter doesn't insinuate to the kitchen that the meal fell short of perfection tonight. If the chef doesn't already know..." He scanned the perimeter of the dining room, as if expecting to be ambushed by the staff or a number of dining guests.

"I'm willing to bet if it wasn't so busy, he'd be out here himself, demanding to know what's wrong with the food." He cut his steak as he reminisced. "Remember what happened the time you asked for salt...?"

"It could just be me." Subtly, she slid her plate nearer to the center of the table. "Even though, I'll never be fully assured that fish is the best idea on a Monday... Are you sure it's fresh?"

"Is it fresh?"

A part of her was teasing, but Damian physically recoiled an inch. To insinuate that he would frequent an establishment that would serve his fiancée day old fish? His face was drawn with his jaw so set, it was as though he had been slapped—or someone in the vicinity had insulted his mother.

"I called ahead. That swordfish was caught earlier today. They're in season, sustainably sourced, and delivered directly to the restaurant—"

And with a menu that read: price available upon request, where other establishments printed dollar amounts, they all but prepared it table-side.

"But... you didn't follow them to the docks?" She asked in a deadpan. "You didn't call the fishmonger either? And I'm guessing, you didn't stand in the kitchen and observe the process?" Raven folded her arms. "Well, I don't understand how someone who takes shortcuts manages to run a billion-dollar corporation."

Raven wasn't at all new to this and she wasn't sure she would ever fully get used to it.

But sarcasm always helped.

"I was under the impression it was your favorite... You enjoyed it so much when we were here months ago." Damian's eyes darkened and then shone, like a man accepting a challenge. "Have your tastes changed already?"

"It's just... It's a little strong—the smell." Raven cleared her throat with her cheeks draining of their remaining color. "It's much stronger than I remember."

"Tell me... Is it work?" He surveyed the tail-coated waiter standing at the ready and lowered his voice accordingly. "Is it...something else?"

This was meant to speak of their nightly activities, the ones that involved aliases, capes, and crime.

Well, the other ones that involved aliases, capes, and crime—no safe words.

Inwardly, Raven groaned, because once again she was reminded of how much harder this could become.

By Azar's blood.

"It's not...that either. My stomach really is too unsettled for fish today." She took the napkin from her lap to wipe her mouth. "Normally it wouldn't be, but maybe... I'm a little unsettled, too."

"Tch... Well, I knew there had to be something." A half frown stole across Damian's full lips. "It's me, Raven... And this is us. We don't hide things from each other. Not anymore."

"I know." She heard her voice wavering. "I know that..."

"If there's anything at all, you'll tell me." He reached across the table to brush her hand. "If you're unhappy, tell me. I'll do whatever I can..." he whispered, lifting his eyebrows to punctuate his next words. "And I mean... anything."

Now Raven couldn't contain a crude snort. "I know, Damian."

"We can stop by a jewelry store - that engagement ring looks awfully lonely by itself." She sucked her teeth in a manner that was less than refined.

"Shoe store then... You can never have too many pairs of those very similar—" Haughtily, Raven blew air up through the side of her mouth to ruffle through her hair. "—but different, black pairs of boots..."

"We can take a trip..." His voice grew lower still. "...have a threesome." But, that one might have been a question rather than a suggestion. And as he pondered his words, his fork went sailing straight through the remainder of his steak without the aid of the knife. "Well...maybe not that last one."

"You're incredible...suggesting a ménage à trois at a French restaurant? Coquin." The half demon shook her napkin at him. "I'd laugh if this fish wasn't making my eyes water."

"Well, I'd do anything for you..." he replied evenly. "If it would make you happy, I'd even consider thinking about that last." And Raven shot her lavender eyes straight up towards the domed ceiling. They both knew the truth. "Maybe someday in the far, far future..."

As if he would ever share her.

That was exactly right, wasn't it? As if he would ever share her, or their lives with anyone?

Why would he?

They lived on the top floor of an elegant building in Gotham with a vintage lift whose golden grills led straight out into their penthouse apartment. But, it could be argued that the building wouldn't have been complete without their elderly doorman, Tom.

On the daily, he hailed cabs for Raven. Semi-weekly, he handed Damian hangers of dry-cleaning that refilled their twin walk-in closets of the numerous suits, trousers, and shirts and monochromatic dresses, blouses, and skirts.

Each morning, he bade Raven good morning as she went off to work and each night he held the door as he bade Damian good evening, a spectator in the lover's lockstep.

Weekly, Damian and Raven maintained long-standing lunch dates clustered in his corner office at Wayne Technologies. Monthly, the couple attended Sunday brunch with the extended clan of brothers, sisters, partners, kids, and pets all assembled together at the Manor.

Yes, there were others in their lives.

Even though Damian would argue they existed more or less on the fringes of a tapestry, while he kept her framed at the center.

Still, he seemed to love everything exactly as it was and he was in no hurry to change it. Especially when every night ended with them tangled together in their king-sized bed.

Two.

Plus one dog.

Titus was the only exception. Unless things changed in the far, far future.

"Do you mind if we cut dinner short?" Raven suddenly suggested. It must have been abrupt because Damian seemed caught off guard. "I think I want to go home early, curl up next to you, and finish those final pages of my book."

"Alright." He signaled for the check. "I'd like that... We'll get you home and I want your final thoughts on the ending. They better be scathing." The waiter reappeared instantly and it was like he'd never left. And even though his eyes remained lowered to the ground, she knew he had to be appraising her.

Raven mumbled something about the ladies room. She considered splashing her face with water and giving herself a pep talk. But to what end? The evening had already gone array. Something unexpected had cropped up.

Unexpected.

How was she supposed to tell him this?

Damian was a planner and for the most part, so was she. They didn't do unexpected.

"Actually, I'm going to grab my coat."

She excused herself and placed her napkin next to the untouched glass of wine. Her feet were pinched tighter in the heels with every step towards the exit. Raven followed the partition around the perimeter of the dining room, arriving at the stairs to the entrance hall.

As she waited in the queue for her coat, her eyes wandered past the sweeping architecture and up the wrap around staircase, where Damian was probably talking to the head chef and the owner. Just as he predicted.

She handed over her ticket, her heart leaping towards her chest as the end of the evening dawned on her. And as Raven grabbed the coat, she wanted to whirl around in her uncomfortable heels and march back up those stairs. Uncaring of her rudeness, she'd steal Damian away, tug him towards the hallway with the row of chandeliers and kiss him.

And tell him absolutely everything.

She would tell him why La Chandelle wasn't at all appealing tonight. She would tell him why she'd suggested going out to dinner in the first place. She would tell him why things had changed so suddenly.

And why everything could.

Instead, she slunk away. Out of the restaurant. Onward. The best she could do now was hope: hope they could get home, hope she could get out of these heels as soon as she could. And then, Raven would figure out how to tell him tomorrow.

--------------------------

"Raven?"

Damian was racing down the stone front steps of the restaurant to meet her at the curb.

"There you are." He was hurriedly slipping a pea coat over his suit jacket and he sounded nearly breathless. "Where did you go?"

"The coat check. Did you get the car?" Her voice sounded small and defeated. "I really, really want to get home..."

"I can see that," He deadpanned. "But that's not what I meant and we both know that." His brown-black brows began to knit together. "You were somewhere else for most of the evening. I know when you slip into your mind fortress and this is different from that. So where did you go, Raven?"

She swallowed and held out her hand for him to take. They walked a few steps in silence, turning towards a side street. The sound of laughter, music, and chatter faded away and for the first time all evening, she felt like she could finally think. Raven exhaled, deciding this was far enough.

"Damian, when I asked about dinner," she began. "I wasn't expecting this... I figured we were going somewhere with a little less wine and a little less fish—less wine cooked into fish..."

He blinked, processing slowly with his hands in his pockets, his head pointed down towards the cobblestone street, coated in a mixture of oil and water. It had to have rained recently. "Well, it's not too late, we can go somewhere else—nothing French, I promise."

He licked his lips before he continued, probably sensing her apprehension. "We can go to that noodle place and ask for two pots of oolong tea instead of the usual one... Or we can just grab tea?" He offered. "But if you're too tired, we can always make it at home. I'll make yours with the biggest, widest mug and saucer we have."

"So you're just...not going to give up on tonight, are you?" Raven murmured, her lavender hair moving as she shook her head from side to side, as if wondering who this man was.

"No, I don't think I will." A smirk started up on his face. "That's the thing about having a fiancée. You can't get rid of me that easily." He tapped her cheek good-naturedly and ghosted over her forehead with his lips. "I'm always going to be here."

"Didn't we...just get engaged?"

"Is that what this is about...?" Her husband-to-be searched every single inch and orifice on her face. "We can slow things down or postpone the wedding for a few months. The last thing I want you is for you to be stressed about this."

"What I mean is..." She ran a hand across her damp forehead. "Gods, I had this whole speech planned—how I was going to tell you..." Raven's unease fell away when she felt warmth radiating in waves, like he was lending her strength.

"Anything," he whispered. "You can tell me anything." He placed his arms on her shoulders.

Raven took a deep breath, her eyes locked on his, and—

"I'm pregnant."

The words froze suspended before them in midair. Damian continued to stare at her, but without blinking. Then, Raven nodded. And then Damian started to nod too.

She couldn't believe she said it aloud; she couldn't believe that it even happened. "I know it should be impossible... And not just that it's too soon."

"You're..." Damian breathed. "You're pregnant."

And he was taking her hands with his own to squeeze them tight. He started to smile—not just smile, he was beaming in a way Raven had only seen once before: when she said yes. This was more than elation, he was in absolute awe of her. He lifted her from the rain-soaked street in a generous hug to sweep her right off her feet.

Damian was holding her, lifting her. Supporting her from below. He was staring up, as his breath streamed sweet steam swirling against the seam of her lips. From somewhere inside blooming outward, was a warmth that no amount of healing or surge of power or strike of hellfire could ever compare.

And he too was giving himself over to this sensation.

With fingers gliding through his hair, eyes welling emotion, she nodded again. And she wrapped her arms around his neck, and drew closer to connect. Deeply, gently, then sweetly, they kissed into the night.

--------------------------

Damian feathered his lips over hers, placing her gingerly onto her feet. And he was grinning madly at her. Then, his grin slid down a little. And then a lot.

His mouth opened, like he was about to say something. He started to talk and stopped. Started and stopped.

"The wine—"

"The fish—"

He ran a hand down his face while he replayed the events of tonight. "I'm such a goddamned idiot. I'm so sorry, Raven."

"It was a nice meal. I had a great time. So, I couldn't eat anything or drink anything—so what?" Raven chuckled. Whatever cruel sense of irony there was in the world, it was a wonderful night. "You know, it's actually hilarious in hindsight, and now we have a funny story to tell our friends... A-and our—our—"

She was enveloped by the warmest, safest embrace Damian could manage as he was trembling. He rocked her and held her tight, inhaling deeper and exhaling harder until they both relaxed. "I am sorry. I should have sensed something more was going on."

"Well, neither of us thought this was even possible. Up until three days ago, I didn't know it was," Raven blurted. And it felt so good to blurt around him again. "We live together. I could have said it at breakfast. Or at the movies on Sunday... When we were in the shower together, last night. I'm the idiot. "

"The shower..." he repeated. "So that's why you were a little touchy about your body." She groaned loudly—this was not happening. "Raven, you've got absolutely nothing to worry about," Damian insisted. "And besides, you're not even showing yet."

"That's what you think," she grumbled.

His lips curled up. "Habibti." Raven raised an eyebrow. She knew as well as he did, that he had better choose that next sentence very carefully. "Habibti... you've always had an aura glowing about you, only now it's just going to grow brighter."

"Pfft," Raven muttered. "Right. As I grow bigger and rounder."

"You know what, yes," he scoffed. "You will get bigger and I don't care. For that matter, neither should you." Gingerly tilted her chin towards him. The way he was gazing at her, with unconditional love, understanding. "You'll be just as beautiful—equally exquisite."

Who could ever doubt Damian?

"And you'll be even more sensitive in all the right places." His low voice was filled with the darkest promises of sin. "I can hardly wait."

"You're dangerous," Raven murmured, knowing she was turning pink.

"Dangerous?" His nose traced the curve of her neck, as the skin shivered.

"As if you didn't know," she said flatly. "It's probably how you managed to conceive with a half-demon in the first place."

She felt him chuckle into her skin, then it morphed into something like a groan. "So, I botched dinner... And sex in the shower... I should have drawn you a nice, hot soak in the tub... Gone down on you for an hour at least...gone a few blocks past the park to grab some slices of 99 cent pizza..."

"How did you know about the pizza?" Raven's eyes widened on her flushed face. "Did Tom tell you?" Whenever Raven said she was going to 'feed the pigeons in the park', what it really meant was she was going to cut through the park to grab a slice of the cheapest pizza she could get her hands on.

So much for the code.

"You actually thought that was a secret?" And when Damian rolled his eyes, he looked less worried and more like his usual surly self. "Please. I've seen the napkins and the pathetic excuses for paper plates... Really, I should have known something was up, there were a few more than usual."

Through the ovens of pizza and pregnancy, he knew and he loved her.

And Raven threw herself forward and held him tightly to her. "You're sort of perfect, you know that?" she mumbled into the hard chest, smelling the usual amber and spiced apricot. She lifted her head and he brushed an errant strand of lavender from her eyes. "I don't want to cut tonight short. Actually... I kind of want frozen yogurt."

"Fro-yo it is."

And as they walked, he bent his head towards her. He touched her face and murmured, "I...can't believe you're carrying my child..."

Damian began to kiss her so avidly, so impatiently, they had to stop in the middle of the sidewalk. She was moaning and pulling pomegranate and malbec from his lips until they were both breathless.

Damian gave her a final peck and they walked back to the restaurant. It was all such a daze, Raven barely remembered him asking the valet to bring their car around. She made a motion towards the door and she noticed he'd already held the passenger side ajar for her.

"I can still do that myself."

"Hmm..." He stared off into the distance with a vague smile, as though contemplating their future. "You're going to fight me at every turn aren't you?"

"No," Raven said quickly. His eyes flickered faintly with amusement. "Not frozen yogurt—I want ice cream. Real, honest-to-goodness, ice cream made with cream, and all the toppings. Whipped cream, hot fudge..."

--------------------------

"Birdie's Diner?"

"Ignore the name, it's a good restaurant. I used to come here all the time, even before we were—" Raven was trying to pull his fingers aside to see his flushed face lit by the bright neon sign. "All diners serve eggs, alright? I'm sure that's all it means."

"And that's the only thing that drew you here?"

He hung his head in defeat before holding the door. "After you."

There were low lamps hanging over the booths and classic rock stringing out of a jukebox in the corner. Raven hadn't been to a diner like this one in well, ever. The hostess handed over two laminated menus and told them to seat themselves. So Raven sat in a red vinyl booth in the back corner, and very discreetly, slipped off her heels.

Instantly, it felt much homier than La Chandelle.

"Raven, we're getting you the best OB in Gotham—that's non-negotiable," Damian was saying. One coffee down and he picked up exactly where he'd left off in the car, driving and planning particulars. "Or Kori can recommend us hers - they're probably accustomed to working with unique cases."

Demonic blood or not, Raven sincerely doubted there was any OB-GYN in the city that wouldn't pass off a patient or two on a colleague, to quite literally, bag a Wayne baby.

The caffeine had fully set in because he was drumming his fingers absentmindedly on the table while he spoke. "It'll cost us another Sunday morning, because you know Kori will want to do an extended brunch when we tell her and Dick the news."

And the second they told her, Raven would promptly conjure up an extra-strength, soundproof barrier around her cellphone to contain the joyous shrieks. And she'd probably have to buy a new phone.

"But it'll be worth it... You know what, it's not too late, I can probably call Dick right now." His left hand darted towards his pocket.

"No. No, you won't." She placed her hand over his. "We'll do it in the morning. Tonight, you're going to sit here with me and eat ice cream, okay?" Then, her ears perked up in a way that Titus would have been proud of. Hearing the sound of a whipped cream dispenser, behind the diner counter, she was almost gleeful. Her ice cream was in transit and was arriving on a round, plastic serving tray.

"Here ya go, sweethearts." A waffle-printed glass dish and two spoons were deposited onto the smooth, scrubbed surface between them. "Enjoy."

"Thank you." She smiled back at the kindly woman in the light blue waitress uniform, with a name tag that read Shirley.

Cookies and cream on a bed of bananas, crushed oreos. Whipped cream and hot fudge. Even one of those radioactive-red cherries on top. And it was absolutely wonderful. She passed Damian one of the long, thin-handled spoons, which they both knew was ill-suited for ice cream. According to Alfred, it was technically for iced tea, but appropriate cutlery was far from her mind. She tapped her spoon to his.

Cheers.

Raven dug in and moaned. In a word it was: heavenly, and far better than she could remember of ice cream. Six more bites and she could just imagine the tip of her spoon about to hit the bottom of her half. That cherry was hers.

"Hey Damian," she nudged his spoon with her own. "Now you're not eating."

"I was thinking..."

"You can think later... You've done more than enough." They would deal with the rest tomorrow. For now, she chose to think of this as a little celebration of the news—just between them.

"Come on, don't let me eat this alone... Sympathy weight starts tonight." She swallowed another spoonful while he glowered at her. And Raven knew full well he'd already had an entire steak earlier. "Don't worry about abs, your aura will just glow brighter."

"Tch—I wonder what genius said that..."

Raven snorted, but didn't argue. In fact, she was absolutely fine with riding Damian's abs—and hard body—straight into the next two trimesters.

"But I have to agree about one thing." Damian drew up his thumb, using it to wipe a smudge of whipped cream from her upper lip. "There is something about real cream..." He held her gaze as he licked his finger slowly.

The blood in Raven's core was warming, the temperature forming liquid fuel for an ache of a different kind. Officially, they had been together for over a year. And this man was now her fiancée. How did he always manage to turn her into some sort of sticky mess?

It had to be unnatural because it was utterly unfair.

Not so subtly, Raven tilted her head at the space next to her. And Damian joined her on the other side of the booth. The diner and the ice cream were so much better with his thigh lined against hers.

"Raven, can I...?" He hesitated, waiting for her approval. He held his hand up to her stomach.

"Of course you can."

Softly, he stroked the skin over her shirt, where the tiny swell would eventually grow. "Raven," he whispered at last, and she opened her eyes. "I want us to take that trip."

"A trip?" Her eyes were so wide only a sliver of purple remained. "A moment ago, you were talking about baby-proofing the apartment." He seemed unfazed. "Nannies? Au pairs? Daycare? What happened to buying every pregnancy and parenting guide our devices will permit? We can't take a trip, wouldn't that be an irresponsible start?"

"We can make time for something important like this," he insisted. "It could be good for you. And for us."

"Why in the name of Azar and all her disciples would this be a good idea?"

"Hear me out... A mother and father-to-be take a trip before the baby actually comes—a baby-moon. That's what they're called," Damian murmured. "I propose we take one, before our lives, and bodies change." He spooned a dollop of whipped cream and slid it between his lips. "What do you think?

"Oh..."

"We don't have to..." He said quickly and dropped the spoon in the dish.

"I think...it could be an interesting idea."

"If you think it's not for us," Damian reached for her and stroked her hair calmly. "I understand."

"No—Damian—we should do this." She searched his eyes. "I want to do this with you."

"Yes." Damian kissed the top of her head. "Just you and me, Raven. We can go anywhere you want."

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dumbasscorn · 3 years

Text

Exothermic : chapter four

Amalthea vs the Boring Talk

"Also, I'm definitely gonna need all the gossip on the famous Bella Swan."

═ ∘♡༉∘ ═

Things in the Swan household were much different compared to living with Joshua Swan. The dynamic was different, very different. You were able to walk without seeing a beer bottle on the counter. The light switches worked on the first try. You did not have to slam your fist on the washer for it to begin its cycle. You could shower without having the water be near freezing.

Yes, things were different. Amalthea felt weird having things be easier.

It was quite the shock when the ebony-haired teen didn't wake up shivering from being so cold, her fingertips weren't turning blue for the first time in a while. Joshua and his daughter could only save enough money to have heat and warm water maybe twice a year. The two were accustomed to the cold, so they usually spent the money on more useful things like beer and books.

Charlie Swan had decided to take the day off to spend with his niece. Not a soul walked through the police station without hearing about the arrival of one Amalthea Rue Swan. The entire staff of the diner had even heard about the young girl! Therefore, nobody questioned why Charlie decided to take a personal day for the first time in years.

Bella Swan on the other hand fought to feel anything anymore. Days passed by being utterly bland. She felt like nothing. Everything was surrounded by painful memories. Sleep couldn't even be used as an escape. It was invaded by nightmares that began to plague the brunette once her boyfriend- ex boyfriend now- left her stranded in the woods. Talking even seemed to be too much to handle. Being happy or feeling anticipation was halted for so long that Bella thought she may never feel either emotion again.

Amalthea woke up disorientated, the bad dream that ran through her mind as she slept led to hear waking up panicked and in a sweat. God, she felt like ass.

Catching the breath that escaped her lungs when she startled awake, Amalthea made her way to the bathroom to splash water on her face. Turning the knob upward, water spurted out of the shiny faucet. Bringing two hands to cup the water, the teen felt relief fall on her shoulders as the ice cold water began to slow her fast paced heartbeat.

Drying her damp face with a towel, Amalthea decided to head downstairs to see if Charlie had awoken yet.

Seeing the brown haired man, Amalthea rubbed her left eye and spoke softly, "Good morning, Uncle Charlie."

Charlie twirled the top half of his body away from the brewing coffee to face his tired niece, "Good morning, Thea! How'd the first night sleeping go?"

Amalthea decided she liked when he called her that nickname, so she responded with a weak thumbs up and grabbed the box of Cheerios that was calling her name. Charlie opened the cabinet to get a bowl and spoon out, handing them to the teen. Thea nodded in thanks, pouring the cereal into the bowl and topping it off with milk she found in the fridge.

Taking a seat at the dining room table, Amalthea spooned the first bit of cereal into her mouth.

"After you finish eating we can talk about school and all that boring stuff."

Thea looked at the man in disscontempt, "Yeah, yeah. I know, so boring! It'll take a couple minutes and I'll take you to get paint after."

Thea gave her uncle a rock-and-roll symbol as a sign of agreement. Charlie watched her do so in amusement, her silence in the morning and use of hand signals reminding him deeply of his deceased brother.

Slowly slurping the remainder of the milk in the bowl, Amalthea stood to wash the dishes she used. Quickly doing so, she fell back into her chair and sighed, looking in her uncle's eyes. He snorted, "Don't look so excited there, Thea."

The girl slowly blinked, unimpressed. Charlie took the hint and began talking.

"Okay for starters, you'll start school on Monday-- which is good since it's only Saturday now-- and Bella will give you a ride there. She knows you're here, but she's going through some, uh- things right now. Oh hey- maybe she can introduce you to Jacob! He's your age, lives on the reservation, they've been hanging out a bunch lately-- good kid.

"Anyway, I thought it'd be good if she took you. It might be embarrassing to have your uncle taking you to school in a cop car-- yeah no it definitely would be. Back on track, we can get some notebooks for you today when we pick up the paint and whatever else you might need."

"Done?" Amalthea picked her head up off of her arms.

Charlie grinned widely, "Yep!"

"Yeah I totally thought that was gonna last forever. Kinda surprised you didn't even mention any rules. Also, I'm definitely gonna need all the gossip on the famous Bella Swan. You've got me all intrigued now, man."

Charlie chuckled, "Rules totally slipped, let's stick with--"

Amalthea butted in, "Tut-tut! Nope! None were mentioned, none gonna be followed. Sorry Uncle Charles, that's just how the cookie crumbles!" The teen giggled at Charlie's unamused face, moving to go upstairs.

"I'm gonna go get ready, hope you're down to take me shopping for paint now cause I really wanna paint today."

Charlie sighed and shook his head defeated, "Yeah, okay-- be ready in, what do ya say, 20 minutes?"

Thea hummed a mhm! and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

═ ∘♡༉∘ ═

Do you like the relationship Charlie and Thea have currently? I know you haven't seen much of it but I'm excited to show more of it! It will be adorable.

master list

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arminty7 · 3 years

Text

𝘚𝘸𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘦

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Mermaid!Jungkook x Reader [Part 2]

Trapped in this life of expensive wine and judgemental eyes Y/N met an unusual lady who offered her a job at an aquarium a few towns away. Despite being hesitant and uncertain for the future she decided to take the offer as it was her only way out, not knowing that many dangers might come her way.

Jungkook swam his way through the small tunnel in wonder. He didn’t realise what he was ‘walking’ into as he took the entire night to explore a tunnel. He thought it might lead to you, how naive. It is only when he heard the piercing sound of drilling from the small tunnel entrance did he know what was happening, he was trapped. With that, his instincts took over.

Chapter: #2 Swimming in Wine

Words: 4181

Warnings: Mild Swearing // Fluff // Eventual Smut? Idk maybe depends // Jungkook obsessive // Evil Namjoon (im sorry guys) // It might be a little messed up.

AN - So I know I havent updated in a very LONG time but I am now updating regularly. I have changed the pov and increased my writing ability.

This work shall not be copied, reproduced, translated and/or modified in any way without my permission. In a case where this might happen, legal action will be taken as it would be a criminal act under the law and breaching these terms. Upon reading my work you are acknowledging that this work is mine and that you know the consequences if this work is copied, reproduced, translated and/or modified in any way without my permission.

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You awoke abruptly as a slam of the car door next to you made you nearly jump from your seat. You sat up and looked around as Julie stepped out of the car onto the wet road. Your head feeling cloudy as you noticed you were parked in a parking lot next to a tall building in the middle of the bustling city. Your eyes then followed Julie who walked across the road towards a small bakery. You could smell the food from here as your stomach grumbled loudly. You closed your eyes again, hearing the cars go past as their tires hit the puddles on the ground. The distant honk of horns and the bus going past made you feel somewhat tranquil, wanting to stay like that forever. You were ready to go back to sleep before the sound of the car door opening made your eyes open again.

"Oh, so you're finally awake?" Julie looks towards you with a smile on her face as she ducks her head under the car roof and gets in. She closes the door firmly beside her, with a bag of pastries in her hand.

"Uh yeah I guess. How long was I asleep for?" You don't even look in her direction as you rub your eyes, feeling sleep try to invite you in once more.

"No more than a few hours, although we are just about there. We are staying at my place for a while. Just out of the city in Taelin Shore" (I made it up with the idea of "Tail", it's not a ship name). She looked at you, shaking the bag of pastries in her hand that you didn't even notice till now.

"So when do I start work?" You look at the pastries and then back at her, wanting to focus on what's important. She places the pastries on the backseat and starts the engine, before driving out of the parking lot.

"Well, you will have an orientation on Monday at the aquarium which starts at 9 am till 2 pm. It's only small but I think it's just for showing you the ropes and letting you explore the building." She continues to drive out of the city down the coast, heading for Taelin Shore.

"Wait Monday? That's only three days away. They didn't even give me an interview yet" It seemed unreal at the most, how could they have that much faith in you?

"They don't need an interview. I told you, I know the owner. He trusts my word more than anyone." She smiles, the brown locks of her hair tied back into a messy bun, something you never thought she would wear. At the dinner party, she seemed so elegantly dressed like the other woman there. It was weird to see her in casual clothes and indulging in sweet pastries.

You look at her once more in disbelief, feeling hesitant about this situation. "I barely know you. I heard that you knew my mother but forgive me if that in itself makes me even more concerned". She chuckles slightly, gripping the wheel tightly as she turns another corner. "You might barely know me, but I was around ever since you were born. I just want to help you. I love your mother, but she puts too much pressure on you."

You sighed as you looked out the window realising you reached the coast of Taelin. It seemed beautiful and serene as you drove through the town, going past, looking at the view of the ocean. You were excited but nervous. What if you don't like it here? What if it is the same as back home? A place that kills every good part of you, forcing you to feel paranoid about everyone you meet? You didn't want to be near that. You wanted to be free.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the car going up the hill on a small dirt path and parking next to a small beach house that was facing the ocean. "We're here, how do you like it? Nice view huh?" Julie smiles in awe as she exits the car, slamming the car door behind her. You do the same as you both look out towards the view of the vast ocean and the mountains that surround the small town.

Julie points down towards the pier urging you to look over to see a massive building next to the docks. "That's where you will be working in the next couple of days." She smiles, "don't worry, everyone's friendly. It's different here".

You look over at her in doubt, "What about you? How do I know you're different than the rest of them back at home?".

She chuckles before turning back towards you, "I got you out, didn't I?" she pats your shoulder before heading inside. She leaves you with your thoughts.

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[6:43 am]

It was early in the morning, the light from the sun started to shine in your room as you soon noticed that you - again - forgot to close the curtains. Although awake, instead of you getting up to close them, you laid there for a while. The sound of the waves crashing was distant, but you could almost feel the pressure and the weight of the water crashing onto the rocks. You imagined what it would be like to be that rock, every day having to go through the same cycle. Every morning the tide would try and crash down and attempting to break through on the rocks until it is time for the water to come back in. The water could never break the rocks, perhaps that was even more torture.

You sighed, not even understanding your own thoughts sometimes. You groan as you get up from the warm and comforting bed, heading towards the shower. You undressed and turned the shower on, watching the steam build-up in the room, covering the mirror. You preferred hot showers.

After your shower, you left to walk along the beach. Upon stepping outside the two-story house, you feel a gush of wind. The cold pierces your body as the wind flutters through your clothes. You walk down the steps of the patio and walk over to the edge of the cliff, looking down at the water that once again crashes through the rocks violently.

You weren't afraid of the ocean and had spent your whole life in the water. Although, something didn't feel right here. You watched the water down below. I looked peaceful yet restless. With every second it became more violent, the clouds grew dark quickly, and you noticed a drop of water fall onto your forehead. You sighed and looked back down the cliff before seeing a small splash in the water and something with a scaly body. But it was nothing like what you had seen at the aquarium. You felt yourself getting dizzy and started to wonder when the last time you had eaten something. You cursed under your breath for rejecting those pastries Julie got yesterday. You stumbled, backwards and forwards as your vision started to spin. The dark cloud's now covering the sky completely. You had tried to balance yourself, but you had ended up stepping forward to much, descending over the cliff and crashing down into the ocean. Your vision went black.

The water was cold, too cold. You felt the cold sinking into your skin, grasping onto your bones, coating them in ice. You didn't bother to open your eyes as you felt yourself crashing in and out of the water. You could hear the waves and thunder as you reach the surface, before getting pulled under again. Suddenly strong arms wrapped around you from behind. Your toes and the back of your thighs could feel the slimy tail that was swaying beneath the surface. You tried to look over at what has a hold of you. Although it was strong, and you could barely move your body. You could feel its cold hands enveloping around your chest and your waist as your body swayed in the current. You could feel its hot breath on your neck whispering things in your ear before you passed out from exhaustion.

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[Two days later]

Monday - 8:45 am

The morning was quick, slipping your shoes on as you try to make your way down the stairs of the beach house into the lounge room. You couldn't stop thinking about that day. The day where you

woke up on the beach and Julie insisted on calling the doctor even though you assured her everything was fine. It was surprising, to say the least, that you didn't even get hurt. There were tons of rocks as the current was nearly ripping you apart. That was before that thing showed up. It felt like death was surrounding you. Ironic really that it may have saved your life.

"Hurry up Y/N, I told them you'd be there by 9. You're lucky we don't live far away from the Aquarium". Julie watches you run around the house as you find your bag and keys. You ignore her comments as you rush out the door towards the car, opening the passenger side and getting in.

"Why don't you let me drive?" You groan, looking at your watch. She gets in beside you and starts the car. "Because dear Y/N, you’re impulsive and from what I heard, it took you seven times before you passed your driving test and you haven't driven since." You roll your eyes as she drives down the dirt road and onto the main road.

You look out towards the ocean, seeing the waves crash onto the rocks on the mountains, slamming on the rocks violently. Your mind wandered for a bit. You could almost feel the hot breath against your neck again, ice-cold arms wrapping around your body. The memory of that strange creature is still vivid in your mind. You didn't tell Julie, of course. She'd probably think you're crazy.

Your eyes wander towards the open sea, seeing the birds glide over the water, how free they looked. The thought of being free sounded appealing, oh how you wanted to be one of those birds, flying across the water, without a care in the world.

But even you knew that in reality, those birds still needed to fight to survive, even they sometimes had to turn against each other.

You sighed, looking towards the road as you see small fish and bakery shops already opened and full of locals. A few minutes passed as the car turned into a car park. "We're here." Julie parked the car.

"You're not coming in with me?" You looked at her pouting a little as she chuckles "Do you want me to?" Your eyebrows furrowed, quickly grab your bag and open the door.

"No" You quickly answer and slam the door, feeling as though she was mocking you a little because you didn't want to do it alone.

"You don't need her Y/N" You tell yourself. "She's just like the rest of them. Just take advantage of the situation until your good on your own. Then let her go. She's just using you"

You make your way towards the entrance, going past the two waterfalls with statues of dolphins spitting out water. The glass doors opened as you enter, and you look at your watch, it was 8:57.

You walk in following the tunnel entrance towards the reception although you couldn't help but wonder where everyone was. Wasn't it opening today? Were you mistaken? You continue towards the reception, seeing a young handsome looking man in a suit typing away on his computer. You clear your throat and the man looks over at you.

"Oh, my apologies miss. We are not open today due to a technical issue, but we will be opening tomorrow at 7 am. Do you wish to make a booking early?" The handsome man looks over at you, his broad shoulders prominent. You glanced over at his name tag labelled "Kim Seokjin".

"Uhh, no thank you. My name is Y/N, Y/N L/N. I'm here for my induction." Your words came out less confident than you would have liked as you looked down at the floor.

"Y/N!?" You flinched, hearing your name being called. You looked over as another man in a black suit walked towards you. He was tall and had blonde hair, slicked back and styled. He held out a hand to you, "Hello, my name is Kim Namjoon. Julie told me so much about you." He smiled at you, displaying his two dimples on each side of his face. Just like the receptionist, his visuals were prominent.

You shook his hand, blinking a few times before realising, "You're... my boss??" you stammered out, his firm strong hands wrapped around your tiny ones. You have to admit, he was well built and his smile was to die for. He chuckled, letting your hand go before directing you past the reception and into the food court of the aquarium. You look back towards the reception, wanting to say goodbye to the receptionist but it was too late as Namjoon led you down the hall.

As the two of you entered the food court, the room was wide, and it looked like a massive underground restaurant with fish tanks surrounding it. You have never seen anything like it.

"So, Y/N, as you might have guessed this place is quite empty at the moment, just a small a technical issue but it hopefully will be fixed in a few days" Namjoon leads you across the room letting you take a look at everything. You suppose that this is going to be your tour.

"Ah yes, so I've heard" Namjoon smiles while continue walking as you went past an enormous tank that looked like it connected with the other tanks. You glanced at his attire, classic black suit and tie with a white shirt underneath.

Namjoon had stopped and glanced around the room. "This is the food court, although most of the time when you are working you won't be needed here." It just had occurred to you that you didn't even know what position you'd be in. All you knew was that it was a job away from your mother and paid quite a lot of money. Julie was right, you are impulsive.

"So, what am I going to be doing here?" You look over at him as he continues to walk, heading towards another room with a big smile on his face, showing his dimples.

"Well, Y/N-"

"Namjoon! There you are, we have a situation..." A man with a white coat entered the room. He had a concerned look about him but as soon as he saw you it changed into a big smile and you couldn't help but want to smile back at him.

"Hello! My name is Jung Hoseok. You must be the new girl that will be working for us?" You looked at him and couldn't help but feel special as he gave you all his attention. Namjoon looked over at you while you smiled back at Hoseok, you dont know why but you just felt so comfortable around him.

"Ah yes... I guess everyone knows about me, huh" you shyly answered, suddenly finding the urge to fiddle with your earring. It was a nervous habit. "My name is Y/N L/N. It's nice to meet you" Hoseok smiled again before Namjoon cleared his throat, regaining our attention.

"Hoseok... Did you want to speak in private?" Hoseok's smile immediately dropped and he looked at Namjoon with a more serious expression.

"Yes, of course, Regarding our technical problem, there is some important information you need to know." Namjoon nods his head and looks over at you. "Excuse me, Miss L/N".

You watched them walk out of the food court. You wondered what the technical problem was. Even the receptionist was vague about it. You sighed and took a seat at the cafe. You sat there staring at a fish in a tank. The food court was big and round. The walls surrounding it was just glass tanks, with one in the middle of the circular room, acting as a pillar. You sat in your seat quietly, your mind started to wander back to those callous hands that feel like they never left your body. You felt an ice chill, it petrified you. It felt like you were marked by death.

You heard Namjoon and Hoseok walk in as you quickly stood up and pushed your chair in neatly. "Everything all sorted?" You press your lips together, trying to get that thing off your mind.

Namjoon looks at you curiously before frowning, 'I'm truly sorry, I don't think I can proceed with this tour. Something very important has come up". You nod, understandingly.

"No, No, I understand. Don't worry, I'm pretty sure I can navigate my way around the place." You take a glance around.

This place is way too big...

Namjoon looked over at you. "That won't be necessary, I have organised one of the staff members to come and give you a tour, you will be a trainer just like him. He will be mentoring you. His name is-"

"Hello Y/N". His voice was sweet. Angelic, but not innocent. A sultry like voice that sounded like a whisper of temptation. You looked over your shoulder to see an elegant looking man with light brown locks walking over to you. His style was neat as he had black-skinny jeans and a white t-shirt, following by a Chanel bag. "My name is Park Jimin," the man said.

Damn the wage must be crazy then huh...

Namjoon sighed and looked at the floor, that was the second time he had gotten interrupted. Namjoon looked over at Jimin and then at you, before stating "This is your mentor".

Jimin looks over at you cocking his head as he smiled at you. "Come on, let me show you the place! Oh yeah, and you can meet Tae! He'd love to meet you." He grabbed your hand, locking your fingers with his as he dragged you out of the food court. "Goodbye Hoseok and Namjoon! Nice meeting you!"

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You sat there next to the water on the platform that stretches over the dolphin's tank. Jimin had taught you how to feed them and the different signals you can do with your hands. When you first saw Jimin, he seemed to like this neat good-looking guy that wouldn't work at a place like this. But here, now looking at him as he is feeding the dolphins with the biggest smile on his face, his hair fluffy and eyes glued to the water, he looked like he belonged.

"Jimin-ah!" you heard someone shout. Jimin stood up quickly and ran off the platform onto the concrete towards a tall looking man, well at least taller than Jimin. "Taehyung-ah! You are 3 hours late! You know you can't always get me to cover for you. You are lucky Y/N was there when I ran into Namjoon today, he for sure would have asked me about you. You know I can't lie to him!" Jimin and Taehyung walked back on the platform and you could finally see Taehyung features.

"Hi, my name is Kim Taehyung. Nice to meet you" he bowed and smiled. His voice was low, that was the first thing you noticed about him. The second thing was his fluffy black hair and you suspected that he recently had a perm. He was soft in every way except he had this dominating presence that could be seen through his eyes. He smiled at you, his box smile making you smile.

"Hello! My name is Y/N. Quite late, are you?" You smiled, and he chuckled. "I swear this doesn't always happen." Jimin scoffed and you tried to hold in your laughter.

"Oh yeah, did you show her around yet?" Taehyung came and sat down on the platform. We joined him, watching the dolphins. Jimin looked over at you "Well we did look around a little, but we haven't been to all the off-limit areas yet".

This intrigued you, "Ooh, now I’m excited. " You spoke with enthusiasm and Taehyung and Jimin smirked at one another. Jimin looked your way "Okay so we can’t get caught there though, it's off-limits to everyone besides Namjoon and Hoseok."

You nodded, curious to see what those "off-limit areas" are. Taehyung sighed, "I don't get why it's off-limits. Those poor fishes all alone... No one to talk too..." Taehyung pretends to cry and puts his hands over his face before taking them off and smirking. You were confused about his comment.

You look over at Taehyung. He was a character that's for sure. He seemed more carefree than Jimin. Perhaps he didn't like his job as much as Jimin liked it? You weren't one to judge though. You did, in fact, move away from home with barely any knowledge where you're going or if Julie was trustful. You were pretty carefree yourself. But thats because you feel like you have nothing to lose.

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"Come on! Come on! Hurry up Tae." Jimin whispered loudly.

Taehyung was dawdling behind as you and Jimin were making your way downstairs in the back area of the aquarium. Towards one of the rooms that were "off-limits". Jimin and Taehyung said they have been working here for years and they have a special key for one of the rooms down here. Apparently it came from the bartender that worked in the food court. Jimin said that the bartender had found it while cleaning and decided to keep it.

"Ah yes, the bartender... watch out for that one" Taehyung chuckled as you guys went through the door using the key. "What do you mean?" you answered, watching Jimin use the key on the door.

"Don't scare her Taehyung! It's her first day, I'm sure he will like her." Jimin sighed but smirked slightly as he opened the doors. As you walked inside you noticed the walls looked like they were made out of stone with little windows that revealed the ocean. There was a long hallway, the ground was made out of sand and as you went down the pathway you could see a moonpool of some sort that had fish in it.

"My little fishes! How have you been?" Taehyung yells out and Jimin shushes him.

"I can't believe this is down here," You say, getting closer the glowing moonpool. Taehyung walks past you, "well no one comes down here anymore. As we said, we have the key. No one has been in, so we figured we are the only ones who have a key to the place."

“But, like how is it here? Under the aquarium?” You wondered, sitting down next to the moonpool.

“Its connected to the mountains. The aquarium is on the shore but the back of it is connected to the mountains that surround Taelin Shore and this just so happens to be here.” Jimin states, looking around it awe.

Jimin smiled and looked over at Taehyung, "Its our little hideout but now I feel like it should be Y/N's..." Jimin smiled as he spoke, visably excited and leaned onto Taehyung. You suppose they have been friends since their childhood. You could have sensed it on them.

You gave Jimin a confused expression he looked over at you and handed you the key, "here". You looked at him and stood back. "Wait what? Why are you giving me that? isn't it yours?". Jimin shrugs and puts it in your other hand. "I was once new here as well. I know how it feels, sometimes you just want some peace and quiet." Taehyung then chips in, "It may not seem like it now but when it gets busy, it can be stressful. Besides, we haven't been in here for a while, we don't have any use for it.

You smiled, you did need this. With Julie at home and these two at work, you knew you're going to have your hands full. Just the other day, you wanted time alone... By the end of it, you fell off a cliff and nearly drowned. Perhaps this could be a place for you to be alone. Everyone needed a hideout, right?

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It was the end of the day and Jimin and Taehyung were finished giving you their tour. You were surprised that you felt so comfortable around them. Julie was right, the people here are different.

You stood outside of the Aquarium hugging and saying goodbye to both Jimin and Taehyung as they walked towards their cars to go home. You weren't planning to stay for this long, truth is your orientation ended hours ago. You just wanted to spend more time with them.

You walked over to the pillar at the steps, waiting for Julie to come to pick you up. You sat down on the steps quietly before hearing someone raise their voice as they were heading up the steps. You hid behind the pillar, sittiing there silently. Thankfully, they didn't see you.

You heard Hoseok's voice "You don't understand! We got him! We got him, you hear me? This is a breakthrough of the century! Do you know what we could do now that we have him? The possibilities are endless. This creature is-"

You heard someone interrupt. It sounded like Namjoon, "This creature is the only thing we have going for us right now so would you be so kind to stay quiet! I know you're excited, but we can't let anyone know about this, he's dangerous."

They both went inside. Leaving you to your thoughts.

Honk Honk

"Come on Y/N, It's late!" Julie yelled out from the car. You got up and grabbed your bag before running over to the car.

"I'm coming!"

Tags - @mjlock

AN: Tell me if you like it!

- Minty ⚘

#bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #mermaid jungkook #siren jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts images #bts scenarios #masterlist #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #bts x reader #sirens #mermaid

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Note

For the tma December bingo prompts, how about “snowball fight” with jontim? I feel like that has potential to be very very entertaining (if you want to ofc!)

Finally found the time to write this! This was so fun, thank you for the prompt!

Send me bingo prompts!

Hey, boss! is the only warning Jon gets before something hard, wet, and very cold hits the back of his neck. A few clumps of icy snow slip down the collar of his jumper, sliding down his back and sending a shiver throughout his entire body. The glare he shoots Tim as he turns to face him is hot enough to overcompensate for the chill.

“Oh, ouch,” Tim says, placing a hand over his heart and taking a staggering step backward, though the absolutely ridiculous grin splitting his face nearly in two remains. “That’s quite a look.”

“I do not,” Jon says stiffly, “appreciate having snow thrown at me.”

“Come on,” Tim groans, shaking a bit of the excess snow off his gloves. “It hardly ever snows. Just let me enjoy the moment.”

It’s true that London certainly isn’t known for its record-breaking snowfalls, but an unexpected cold front had swept through over the weekend and had brought with it a few inches of snow that had managed to stick. Jon had nearly slipped on his way into the Institute that Monday, his forward momentum halted only by Tim’s firm grip on his hand. Normally, he would have protested the contact; though it wasn’t a secret, necessarily, that they were together, Jon still wasn’t keen on public displays of affection with someone who was technically his subordinate. Though there wasn’t anything in the employee handbook forbidding it. Not- not that Jon had checked the handbook, though, that- that would be ridiculous.

However, as Tim pulled Jon upright and said, his words laced with humour, “Careful, Jon. Don’t think a concussion is a great way to start the week,” Jon had been grateful for the tight grip on his hand. Though he’d tried very hard not to show it. He has a professional reputation to maintain, after all.

Here, though, at Tim’s house after work—with Tim having dragged Jon out of his office at five on the dot with an impressive set of puppy dog eyes and a, “There’s snow, Jon, come on. That’s gotta qualify as a supernatural event in London, so we should definitely check it out.”—there’s no one to see them, no imaginary judgement to be passed, no questioning of his professionalism (aside from Tim’s occasional ribbing that Jon wouldn’t know proper archival procedures if they slapped him in the face). So, without softening his glare in the slightest even as most of his irritation dissipates, Jon says, “I’m fairly certain you would derive significantly less enjoyment from the experience if you also had snow down the back of your jumper.”

Tim sighs, long and drawn out. “Always so grumpy. And here I thought we were bonding.”

“Tim, we are literally dating. We don’t need to have a- a snowball fight to bond.”

Tim sighs again, looking wistfully into the distance. “Still.” He pauses a moment, almost certainly for dramatic effect, before giving a small shrug. “Fine, fine. We can go inside.”

Good lord, does he need to sound so disappointed about it? Irrationally, Jon suddenly feels quite guilty. They’ve only been together for a few weeks, but they’ve been friends for much longer, and it feels like Jon’s having to rediscover parts of Tim that he’d thought he’d known. Like how Tim’s smiles are just a bit wider now, just a bit freer, when he directs them at Jon. Or how when Tim cooks for him, it feels less like an of course, that’s what friends do and more like a welcome home, love, how was your day?. Or how, in times like this, Jon feels like he’s not doing things quite right, like he’s missed a step somewhere and has stumbled. Tim catches him every time with a smile and a laugh, but that doesn’t stop the nagging worry at the back of Jon’s mind that it’s all just…

Well, that it’s all just professional courtesy.

Maybe that’s why, when Tim turns to head into his house, Jon hesitates only a moment before stooping down, gathering a clump of snow into his hands, squishing it hastily into a vaguely spherical shape, and throwing it in Tim’s general direction.

It misses, because of course it does. Jon’s never had anything close to hand-eye coordination, and so the snowball sails past Tim’s head and connects solidly with his front door, leaving a small spot of white against the dark green where it hits. Still, it stops Tim in his tracks, and Jon begins to panic, his face heating with embarrassment despite the cold nipping at his cheeks, because Christ, now I just look foolish, don’t I?

He’s already fumbling to form another snowball when Tim laughs, a small, surprised thing that’s so different than his normal, full-body laughter that Jon freezes, half-stooped with his gloveless hands buried in the snow. “Was that a snowball?” Tim says, voice light with disbelief. He turns, and Jon straightens quickly, a lump of snow clutched tightly in his hands and beginning to melt where it meets his skin.

“Um,” Jon says eloquently. He glances down at the snow in his hands, engages in an intense internal debate on whether to drop it or continue to hold it or, god forbid, throw it, and ultimately ends up just staring at it and not quite meeting Tim’s eyes. “Yes?”

There’s the sound of crunching snow, and Jon looks up just in time to see another snowball sailing toward him. He yelps and ducks, but not fast enough to avoid the splash of cold against his shoulder as it hits the space between his scarf and his jacket. Somehow snow slips between the two and begins the slow process of trickling ice-cold water down his skin. “Hey!” he says, aiming for indignant and landing on something closer to whining.

Tim shrugs, his smile wide and teasing. “Hey, just returning fire.”

Jon’s eyes find the snow still clutched in his hands, melted down slightly but still in the general shape of a snowball. A part of himself slips free, bringing a small, easy smile with it, the kind that only Tim seems to be able to draw to his lips. “I understand,” he says solemnly, and then throws the snowball.

There’s a good deal more shouting and laughing before the both of them stumble inside, snow stuck to their hair and clothing and cheeks bright red from laughter and the cold. Jon’s fingers are freezing, and when Tim leans in to press a soft kiss against his lips, he takes the opportunity to press his hands to the back of Tim’s neck, running them under Tim’s jacket and down the skin of his upper back.

“Jesus,” Tim says, jerking back on instinct, much to Jon’s chagrin and eternal amusement. “Your hands are freezing, Jon.”

“Well,” Jon says primly, “as I recall, someone wanted to have a snowball fight.”

“Oh, you’re insufferable,” Tim groans. “You know that, right?” He reaches forward and presses Jon’s hands between his own, rubbing them briskly until pins and needles begin to form under Jon’s skin, cutting through the icy numbness. “Come on, let’s make something warm. Hot chocolate?”

“Mm, please.”

Jon hesitates only a moment before placing another quick kiss on Tim’s lips. Maybe Tim was right, he thinks as they make their way into the kitchen. The snow had been quite enjoyable indeed.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #jonathan sims #tim stoker #my fic #my writing

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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

Text

Quick Escape (Baekhyun x you)

Warning : do not over drink, don’t get drunk. Slightly suggestive, but no smut

How are you all? Excited for the first Baekhyun Japanese album solo ?? What about KOLO??

Alright, here we go!!

"Are we ready to go?" your boyfriend asks as he closes the car trunk and helps you open the passenger door. "Yes, we're good. I've sent Mongryong to Kai yesterday. He'll take care of the corgi." you explain to Baekhyun who just met you today. He was staying in Chanyeol's home last night because his solo preparation ended too late and you don't want Baekhyun to drive in the middle of the night by himself. Today, the two of you have planned to take hree days two night quick break. Monday is a holiday and so you two emptied your schedules and make time for a self-treat weekend. Baekhyun is busy with his photoshoot and Japanese album preparation. You've seen your boyfriend looking tired from the big project, but he was happy to release the first Japanese solo album with not just one or two, but six versions! You sit in his Audi RS7, and buckle your seatbelt. Baekhyun detours and takes the driving seat. "Okay GPS set and here we go!" you cheer and Baekhyun just laugh at your excitement. With music blasted from your playlist and the two of you harmonizing to the songs, there are smiles over your faces that won't be gone any time soon. "Hehe looks like my girlfriend can actually make a featuring in my Japanese album." "Nani? I can only say nani and arigatou! I'll mess up the lyrics." you tease him and laugh when he laugh too. "I should probably ask the manager board if you can make a feature!" You just shrug your shoulder, what Baekhyun wants, he'll work hard for it right, so you don't really have the authority to stop him. It was a four hours drive, all done in the highway. When lunch time comes, the two of you pull over to a rest area. The rest area in Korea is unique, each area has different menu and specialized to their authenticity. "Let's eat lunch!" Baekhyun as always sounds happy on the thought of foods. You take your wallet and stretch your body when you finally get a chance to stand up. You reach out your hand and Baek knows the queue, he locks his car and pockets the key then takes your hand in his. Gladly the two of you swing your hands and enter the big room. "What should we eat?" You ask, knowing that Baekhyun is restricted to a diet usually and you don't want to torture him by seeing you eat the good guilty foods. Baekhyun lets out a small smile, always thankful for your attention and support to his activities and diets. "It's nice of you, I will just have kimbab. You can order whatever you want, it's okay... Don't hold it back." He rubs a hand on your shoulder and plants a quick kiss on your hair. "Okay, don't whine if I get something yummy." you taunt at him and walk to order what you want and his too.

You return with a number and wait for Baekhyun to get the two of you waters. He sets the table with chopsticks and spoons. When your number is called, you give the auntie the number and bring the tray of foods to the table. Baekhyun's eyes glisten and twinkle when he sees his favorite Tonkatsu set there. "Yaak how can I remain calm if the food you ordered is my favorite and looks soo good." he pouts as he opens his foil wrapped kimbab and pick one up to his mouth with the chopstick. "Just take mine if you want, several bites won't make you bloat honey." You calmly cut the pork cutlet and begin enjoying your lunch. Baekhyun munches his food while looking at you, it's like watching a mukbang show. He can feel the sauce taste just by looking at you. You laugh at his really cute expression and decides to push the plate to the middle, you turn the plate so the cutlet is facing his direction. "Eat up," you push some of the square cut meat to him. He smiles and finally gives up. 'Thank you, thought you'll be heartless and let me stick to the diet." He finally munches one of the pork cutlet and moans in delight. "I wasn't actually doing a good thing right? Breaking your diet." you raise your brow. He shrugs his shoulder, "Meh, I am happy now. So you're doing the right thing!" This is why the two of you get along well. You're one year away from marrying him, he has proposed and he wished to do the wedding before his enlistment. "Eat up honey, don't get sick. Your health and happiness comes first!" You put down your cutleries and let Baekhyun enjoys the rest of the portion. "If we eat without guilt, it's zero calories!" he grins as he takes in the last spoonful and you clap your hands like he was a baby who just finished his lunch. "Shall we grab coffee?" you know he enjoys americano after lunches and even though you did not drink caffeine, you never interfere his habit. "Sit down, I'll take the orders." Baekhyun points to an empty table in the corner and you sit down first. You take out your phone and play with your Instagram for a while, checking on fanpages and seeing if anyone caught Baekhyun and you. So long no one has discovered this relationship, but your family and his family have already met and agreed that the two of you can marry each other. His friends knew that you are his girlfriend, it's not a surprise for them when you come in randomly to drop lunch and even his choreographer knows. Only the boss and the director boards did not know, but Baekhyun said he did not violate any rules. He did not have a contract saying he cannot date a girl. Simply said his dating ban was removed already. Your boyfriend hidden in mask is back with a tray of ice americano, cold mint caffeine free tea, and a plate of cheesecake. You glance a "What is this" look on the cheesake and to him, he scratches his neck, "I tried to hold myself back. I want one bite." his puppy eyes are on his face and you can't say no. "It's okay, you drive a lot today. You have activities to burn your calories." you sneakily take a spoonful already and melt into the sweet salty fluffy creamy texture. "Woah this is the best!" you take another bite. "Told you." Baekhyun joins in. With that, you exchange story of what happened in your office last week and basically talk about random things. The break end nicely and Baekhyun is ready to drive again, well actually you offered him to take over the wheel, but he never let you drive. Not when you're with him. The rest of the journey was also filled with blasting song and singing on top of your lungs, plus teasing one another with cheesy jokes and pick up lines. You also talked to him what is lately happening in the fandom and he laugs at Aeri's funny memes about missing EXO. "We'll come back soon! Just keep on doing great Aeris, and we'll soon say we are one again." Baekhyun smiles secretly and you just nod your head. "We're here!!!" you scream when he parks into the small cottage and the helpers quickly handle your bagages. You did the check in and receive the key, Baekhyun ensured he left nothing on the car and parked it in front of the cottage. It is noon already when you two arrive and upon seeing the private pool and jacuzzi bathtub the two of you are turned into young kids. "Swim!!!" he runs to dip his toes into the water, "It's warm! let's dive in!" You toss him his swimming pants and you take out your swimming suit too. As soon as you're done putting on sun screens, you dive in first and wait for Baekhun who is struggling to put on the cream on his back. "Come here!" you gesture him to sit on the floor and you help him put on the cream on his pale back. "You need some tanning!" you groan He yells, "No way! I need to look bright..." You roll your eyes, 'No one ever saw your back!" His eyes pop out and he turns his neck to look at you, "You're not wrong." You click your tongue and toss the sunblock away. Baekhyun waits for five minutes and finally cannot wait any longer. "I don't care about my sun screen not being fully absorbed, I want to swim!" he canon balls into the pool and splashes water everywhere. You laugh and when he's inside you tease him by pulling him from under the water. Baekhyun is a good swimmer like you, so he did not panic and instead gets you back. You squeal when he can carry you easily inside the water and you lock your legs over his strong torso. Baekhyun carries you like a koala and you snuggle into his strong body. He leans in for a quick kiss and you give him one. "Hey we need to exercise! What about 5 laps race? This pool is so small, I'm sure we can do that." You stretch your neck and get ready to launch yourself. Baekhyun cracks his neck, "I'm in, three.. two.. one" he pushes himself and so do you. The two of you are neck and neck, but Baekhyun cannot beat you. 5 laps are done like that and the two of you are gasping for airs. Baekhyun won by a hair in the end, because you got tired in the middle. "I won!! What do I get?" he cross his hands over his chest. You think for a while, "I don't know.. me?" you giggle and he smirks, "Nice present!" he takes you into his embrace again and sits you down on the edge of the pool, your body shiver from the hot sun touching your wet skins and Baekhyun pulls you in to kiss you deep, he is still in the water, but with you bending your body, he can reach your lips. "I am not flexible." you push him away and groan at your sore back. He laughs, 'Said the girl who owned a Yoga video channel." You blush, hey you're just finding a way to end this. "Whatever, you got your reward. I want to use the jacuzzi." you stand up and wrap yourself in the bathrobe, and enters the jacuzzi bath that you have filled with water earlier. "No Fun! I also want!" Baekhyun runs to join you in. You give him space and the two of you just close your eyes there for a moment. Relaxing into the pulsating of the waters, hitting the tight knots on your shoulders. You almost fall asleep when you hear Baekhyun's stomach grumbles. "Uh oh it's from the swimming." he glances to the phone he brought, "Almost five, should we shower and prepare for dinner?" you nod and stretch yourself out from the water. You take turn bathing and afterwards prepare yourself for dinner. "You bring the dress I gave you last time?" he asks after he leaves the shower. You're drying your hair and nod at him, he gives a thumbs up, "Good! We'll need that for tonight." Baekhyun brings you to a nice fine dining restaurant, he said it was to make up the anniversary last month that he had to cancel. You can understand his cancelation last month, but having a make-up anniversary is good.

The dinner ends well and you thank Baekhyun for his sweet manners also for the good wine. You didn’t knew he had a good choice of wine!

“You really like that wine eh?” Baekhyun asks once the two of you are already lying comfortably in pyjamas on the big bed.

You snuggle into his big taller frame, “Yes I love it so much!” you peek to look his eyes.

He smiles and ruffles your hair, “Look at you being drowsy. You almost finished half of it.”

You nod, “I know right, it’s that good. And now I am feeling dizzy.

Baekhyun chuckles, you are not a heavy drinker too, but drowsy you is so cute and irresistible.

“Can you cuddle me like you mean it Baek?” you pout at him. Well here we go he thought. When you’re drowsy like this you become so clingy and demanding.

Baekhyun cradles you in his bigger frame and rubs your back, “Easy darling, you’re so demanding.” He breathes in your hair and smiles at the hint of strawberries hitting his nose.

“Your demanding baby,” you slurred

He smiles and kisses the crown of your head, “Yes, my demanding baby.” He lets out shaky breath as he gently hugs you to sleep and find the comfort, he has been missing this whole week.

Ah another nice sleep with you is everything he needs to heal his body.

end :) thank you for reading

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pergaias · 3 years

Text

excerpts from books i’ll never write ; ii

the varying lengths of these excerpts mess with me and my perfectionism istf - some are long, like this one, others are short, but hey - all of them lead to the same place. nowhere.

this is the entire first chapter of a story that i will never finish so um - enjoy ?

title: checkmate word count: 3030

CHAPTER ONE

1.1 ‘YOU THINK YOU’RE FUNNY, RIGHT?’

“VENETIA VERNE, INTERN FOR The White Knight Herald.”

Venetia Verne was done. Done with her job-- being a reporter only sounded fun in theory-- done with her outfit-- what in the world was she thinking-- and of course, done with Octavia Tyrell.

Tavi. Her buttercup.

Venetia was pretty sure her eyes were so swollen that her cry-fest would be painfully obvious, and was also pretty much positive that she looked like a wreck.

Not even the fancy perfume she stole from Octavia last night would mask the smell of abject heartbreak.

Seventeen years old but acting twenty-three, Venetia always prided herself for being mature, collected, and a total bitch.

Of course, the bitch part was usually used affectionately-- Tavi had always called her you bitch! as an endearment, just like the way Venetia used to squeeze her hand and whisper buttercup.

Seventeen years old, but acting twelve when it came to breakups.

“Right this way, Miss Verne,” a female assistant led her across the hall, and Venetia surreptitiously straightened her skirt out. She had chosen a dove-colored skirt and a very vintage white blouse-- vintage chic had always been her style, even though Tavi always pushed for her to look more preppy-glam.

As if. Octavia managed to look like Elle Woods but black-and-white. Venetia was stuck as a Forties poster ad.

“Thank you,” Venetia tried for a smile, but it came out vaguely grimace-like. Had she spent all night crying? Possibly. Was she tired of life, the universe, and everything? Also possibly.

For the record, the answer was not forty-two. Screw the flying dolphins and their musical number about fish.

The assistant nodded, her hair in a bun so tight that Venetia’s scalp sympathized. “Our director is quite excited to meet you, Miss Verne-- he says you’re the best in your generation, and our boss at the Herald has never been more excited about a high school prospect-- you must be doing something right.”

Venetia tried for another smile, but this one looked like a leer. The assistant smiled sympathetically, her heels clicking rhythmically against the tiled floor of the building. She was probably tired of everything, too-- the office had the feel of a morgue.

As Venetia trailed behind her, her mind kept wandering to Tavi’s coily dark hair, her rich laugh, the way her brown eyes caught the light and turned to gold. Tavi’s lips on the other boy’s, her hands reaching up his shirt--

Venetia broke off. Octavia didn’t know she saw-- to Octavia, everything was still all well and good. Of course, Tavi was used to having everything she wanted. Spoiled, rich, princess bastard--

“We’re here, sweetie,” the assistant motioned to an imposing-looking door, a slightly condescending note to her voice.

“I appreciate the concern, but it’s Venetia, love.” Venetia allowed herself a smirk at the now-shellshocked assistant before opening the door herself.

Venetia Verne had no interest in being polite or heterosexual.

“Hi, Dad,” Venetia deadpanned, plopping down in front of the central feature of the office-- a heavy, fancy desk-- and all but putting her feet up. Today was just punch after punch after punch-- of course, Venetia could have rescheduled, but all that bitch energy had to go somewhere, right?

“Venetia.” Cyprian Jung looked no different from the day he divorced her mother, choosing a career and a fancy business conglomerate instead of a wife and tenacious daughter.

Let’s face it. Venetia was still just a little bit bitter. Just a little.

“Hi. Venetia Verne, intern for the White Knight Herald.” Venetia kept her coy smile, putting emphasis on her mother’s surname. “My final high school project involves me reporting on the crimes of--”

“You’re reporting on the crimes of the White Queen?” her father’s face snapped up, dark hair and hawkish nose and slanted eyes the color of pond scum.

“Yes,” Venetia said primly, her eyes narrowing.

“Venetia, sweetheart,”

“Don’t sweetheart me.”

“Venetia.”

“Venetia what, Father?”

“Venetia, do you know why I let you interview me?” Cyprian sighed, stroking his nonexistent beard with two fingers. Like, if he actually had one, Venetia was so going to pull an Aang-and-Firelord-Ozai and yank him down by the stupid goatee.

Think calm thoughts, Ven. Less violent, more… Passive-aggressive? Put salt in his coffee instead of sugar?

“Because, like you said. I’m the best of my generation.” Venetia’s gray-green eyes glittered. “And as we both know, the pen is greater than the sword.”

“What do you need to know?”

ON CYPRIAN JUNG

AS HARD AS IT may be to believe, Cyprian Jung wasn’t always a douche CEO and The Worst Father of the Year.

Once upon a time, Cyprian might have been Venetia’s favorite person in the world-- but Venetia always skips over that information, and more often than not, likes to pretend that her father didn’t exist.

Because being raised by a single badass mother sounded a lot cooler than “yeah, my dad decided that his business was a better child than I was, lolol”

But when an new upstart reporter’s article landed on his desk one drizzly Monday morning, Cyprian was shocked to realize that his very gay, very disappointing daughter was the one who wrote it.

Now, we can go two directions here. We can say that Cyprian was so proud and so moved by his daughter’s shrewd reporting skills and her article, or we can say that Cyprian saw something in his daughter that he realized he could exploit, like any good, cunning businessman.

Venetia Verne, who looked-- and acted-- nothing like her father (who seemingly embodied every single fucking Asian stereotype-- how did he even do that?) was proud that she was her mother's daughter.

She hated every resemblance she had with Cyprian, of which she unfortunately had a multitude.

And here comes the plot twist: Cyprian Jung, even though he seemed like he didn’t care for his daughter at all, did.

That was why he called her into his office on an unnaturally-bright Saturday, the day after Venetia and her girlfriend went to a Friday night house party and Venetia stumbled in on her girlfriend in the middle of a hot make-out sesh with a boy.

And before Venetia turned to her mother for advice on her problem, and before she decided to become who she wanted to be for herself, her father would do one good thing for her.

And it would be the only good thing that Venetia would ever, grudgingly, accept that he did.

1.2 ‘CALLING ME DRUNK WHEN IT’S TOO LATE AT NIGHT’

VENETIA CAME BACK FROM her interview with her father a little satisfied and a little angry.

Satisfied because she had the outline for her next article all set out and ready to go-- complete with quotes from her father about the White Queen-- and angry for two reasons.

One, because her father really thought that way? Screw him.

And two, because Venetia had always gone to lunch on Saturdays with Octavia at their favorite boba shop, munching on Taiwanese food and complaining about how difficult ‘life-ing’ was. Octavia had always managed to make Cyprian (and her own father’s) bigoted ideals about feminism (and gay culture, honestly) seem funny.

Venetia pressed her lips into a tighter line as she finally got out of her father’s ice-cold office building and onto the street, where the motion and movement of the city slowed, if not stilled, her thoughts.

Her flat shoes dragged against the gritty pavement as Venetia trudged towards, actually, Venetia didn’t know where she was going. She just kept walking, her bag over her shoulder and one hand brushing against the folds of her skirt.

Venetia hated not having purpose. Saturdays were hard because those were the days that lacked the most schedule-- school days had school, with designated wake-up and go-the-fuck-to-sleep times. Saturdays were full of freedom, and Venetia Verne didn’t know what to do with it.

So she continued walking, wishing that she had something to do. There was always lunch with Tavi to look forward to, or thrift shopping if she wanted. She could walk around the city aimlessly, or she could go home and mope around--

In her bag, her phone buzzed insistently. Only one person ever texted and didn’t call-- Tavi.

Tears burned the backs of Venetia’s eyes, and a lump formed in her throat. Octavia was probably calling wondering why she wasn’t at the shop yet, knowing about her girlfriend’s affinity for punctuality and structure.

Octavia was just going to ignore it.

She didn’t confess to a fuming-but-hiding-it Venetia last night that she had cheated, nor had she acted any differently. With her cheerful I love you, bitch and her insistent flirting with anyone who spared her an appreciative glance but her fake assurances that she was Venetia’s and Venetia’s alone.

Venetia’s fingers tightened around the material of her skirt, twisting the fabric until she was positive the texture would be printed onto her fingers. Her calculating eyes swept over the people around her, dresses in shades of black and white and navy. All business suits or pencil skirts.

Her phone buzzed again, and Venetia ignored it further.

If Octavia was going to ignore the elephant in the room, Venetia sure as hell wasn’t going to point it out. She remembered the way her stomach had dropped when she pushed the door open looking for her jacket, the way that outrage pulsed through her veins, tempered by shattering disappointment.

If Venetia had marched in and screamed at Octavia, what would it have changed? Tavi was used to getting everything she wanted.

So Venetia had gently shut the door and crashed into a different-- thankfully unoccupied room-- and splashed her face with the coldest tap water she could get, staring directly at the bathroom light so she wouldn’t cry.

Venetia hated crying, hated showing any form of vulnerability. Because Venetia Verne was a sphynx, carved out of stone. Her father had always called her Sphynx, because when she was upset she tended to not show it.

Well, Venetia’s resting bitch face was downright legendary.

If Venetia had said something, what would it have changed? Octavia, skillful with words, would have laughed and said that her girlfriend was drunk, or sleep-deprived, or both.

And Venetia knew that she herself would have believed it.

Octavia could paint pictures with words in a way that Venetia had never seen before-- and her mother was a supervillain.

And that was the other reason why she was angry.

Because her mother was the White Queen, and her father’s opinion made her blood boil.

It really puts opinions into perspective when people are ignorant: if you uploaded a picture of yourself to an internet forum-- not saying that it was yourself-- and asked people to describe it, what would they say?

Venetia’s phone kept buzzing.

Her fist kept clenching.

And the spiral-- no, noose-- of her thoughts tightened.

1.3 ‘TELLING ME TRUTHS THAT YOU KNOW ARE LIES’

“OKAY, AM I ALLOWED to be done with this?” Venetia fumed to her secondary best friend Gray, who Venetia was positive was sick of her. She only came running over to the mild Australian boy when she lost another of her friends, and ditching him once she made a new one. If Venetia wasn’t such a heartless bitch, she would have felt bad for the way she treated him.

“Yes, you are,” Gray said patiently, trailing meekly behind her.

“Well, good,” Venetia snapped, storming through the halls of the local high school.

The rest of her dreary Saturday had come and gone in a whirl of anger-grief-bitching-stress eating, and Sunday the same.

“Hey, Ashie!” Venetia was in a seriously pissy mood, and decided then and there that she was going to call everyone by obnoxious nicknames only that day. Asheton Shore, who adamantly went by Shore, was her first victim.

“It’s Shore!” the boy bellowed.

Behind her, Venetia heard Gray scurry behind a wall of imposing-looking seniors. “Ashie,” Venetia drawled, walking closer to him. Her skirt swished with each step she took-- while Asheton Shore’s close companion Maeren Sepia liked vintage too, Venetia always secretly knew that her style was better.

“Fruck,” Shore muttered-- no, it was Ashie, Venetia told herself firmly.

“Come on, Venetia.” Gray was back, his eyes shifting around nervously as he carefully took her by the arm and steered her away.

“Damn it,” Venetia hissed, digging her fingers into the material of her skirt.

“Okay, I know you’re--” Gray cringed, “bitching about the whole Octavia thing, but--”

“You can say the word bitch, Gray.”

“I don’t want to call you a bitch, Ven.”

“Oh my fucking god, Gray. When you think of the word bitch you should think of my face.”

“I don’t like cursing.”

“Fuck that.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Right back at you, Gray.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Thanks.”

Venetia huffed; Gray bit his lip, sighing. Yes, he was very much done with Venetia and her bullshit. Venetia herself was done with Venetia and her bullshit.

Like Ashie, Gray went exclusively by his last name. Then again, when you had a name like Devlin-Tibereus, you wanted to purge that name from your memory. And ‘Asheton’ didn’t even seem so bad if you had the misfortune of being named Devlin-Tiberius Gray-- the Second.

And no, Venetia was not allowed to call him Take Two.

“Come on, we’re going to be late to class.” Gray was tugging at her sleeve insistently. Sometimes Venetia thought of him as an insistent-yet-adorable puppy, the kind that was a total sweetheart until they gave up and peed on your carpet.

“I wanna ditch,” muttered Venetia, who was very acutely aware that Octavia would be attending the same class.

And even though Venetia spent a weekend moping around mooching off of Octavia’s Netflix and eating half-melted ice cream, ghosting Octavia when she tried to call, and doing everything except think about Octavia-- which was a form of thinking about it-- she wasn’t ready to face her.

At all.

Gray blew out a breath-- yes, he was very, very sick of her already.

“Let’s ditch.” Gray said suddenly, planting his feet and nearly throwing Venetia off-balance.

Venetia gaped. “Where the fuck is Gray and what did you do with him, Take Two?”

“I am not take two! Ven, how many times do I have to tell you? Come on, let’s ditch.”

“You’re finally speaking sense, Gray.” Venetia patted his back appreciatively as they blew past the classroom they were supposed to be in and towards the exit. “About time.”

Gray smiled, flashing his elusive dimples. “No shit.”

1.4 ‘YEAH, YOU THINK YOU’RE FUNNY, RIGHT?’

“SO,” VENETIA SAID LAMELY, her feet dragging against the dusty pavement as she and Gray trudged away from the school, casting furtive looks over their shoulders to make sure that they weren’t being followed. “How’s Teddy? Do people still get to call her Taffy?”

“Taffy’s fine,” Gray said, and didn’t elaborate. Venetia didn’t press-- she knew she was already pressing her luck with her friend-- if Gray could even call her that-- by dragging him with her.

Teddy-- or Theodosia-Amélie Frances Gray-- was Gray’s little sister, who was affectionately called ‘Taffy’ by her close friends and family. Venetia wasn’t sure if she fell in that category, but like most only children, she had a fascination with siblings.

Like how both Gray and Teddy had the same smile and mousy hair and dimples, but they shared different things with their parents, like how Gray and his mother had the same nose but Teddy had the same pattern of freckles across her cheeks.

“That’s nice. Where do you want to go, coffee?” Venetia asked, and suddenly laughed. Out here there was no Octavia, no pressure, no teachers breathing down her neck as she struggled through trigonometry.

Gray’s elusive dimples flashed. “Coffee sounds nice-- as does the idea of ditching, honestly-- and you can rant to me about Octavia. You know, you shouldn’t call her Octavia or Tavi. What about Tyrell?”

“Why shouldn’t I call her Octavia?” Venetia asked, bemused.

“I don’t know!” Gray grinned. “Maybe… I don’t know, Octavia sounds too nice. I’d say ‘call her a bitch’--”

“But I’m the bitch.” Venetia finished, mirroring Gray’s grin. She and Gray always clicked-- no matter how Venetia abandoned him or pushed him aside for her other friends-- not that she had any, which was the irony of it-- Gray was always waiting with his remarks and banter and coffee-fueled highs.

“Exactly.”

“I really am a bitch, you know. Makes you wonder how Buttercup-- I mean Tavi-- I mean Tyrell-- fell for me in the first place.”

“Eh, probably the bitchiness itself.”

“True, true.”

Gray grinned again. “I missed you-- which probably is the wrong thing to say, but hey-- Taffy tattles on me for swearing all the time, while you swear just as much--”

“More. I swear more than you, Tibe.” Venetia smirked and quirked an eyebrow, and Gray sighed.

“I’m never going to win that argument, am I?” he asked, half smiling.

Venetia winked-- or tried to, since she couldn’t wink to save her life-- and nudged Gray’s shoulder with her own. “Never, Take Two.”

“You know, I can call you Veni Vidi Vici.”

Venetia scowled. “My mother really had something against me naming me Venetia Lavinia, didn’t she? Veni Vinny Verne, I mean, seriously?”

Gray smiled, flashing his dimples again. “Someone’s in good spirits.”

“Just drink your damn coffee, Gray.”

“Just let us get to the damn coffee shop, Verne,” Gray mimicked her tone, his wavy hair bouncing as he walked.

“You’re almost as annoying as,” Venetia paused to snap her fingers, “whatshisname Lock. Lochlan Ryals-- don’t some people call him Cinnamon?”

“Lock?” Gray asked, his eyes lighting up. “That’s a compliment.”

“Well, I sure didn’t mean it that way,” Venetia said dryly, her eyes trained on the coffee shop that was coming into clearer view.

“Well, time to order coffee black as my soul,” Venetia said brightly, swinging the door open and following Gray inside.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered, but he was smiling.

“I’m hilarious,” Venetia deadpanned, tossing her pin-straight hair.

“You really do think you’re funny.”

Venetia smirked. “Yep, I think I’m funny, right?”

#cece writes #checkmate #songfic #excerpts from books i'll never write #circa august 2020 😌#this was supposed to tie into wifey's book LOVE-PROOF #but neither project ended up really happening lmfao

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10millionyearsdungeon · 4 years

Text

His Girl Friday

So! Shindou-mas was upon us! In honor of our favorite supporting character, we have a sordid tale of personal assistants and a week in the life of the notorious hero Grand. As part of a mini-collab with a few lovely writers from the BNHarem server! ============================= “Your case files are on your desk, Grand. I took the liberty of filing them from oldest to new to help you catch up.”

Shindou sat behind his heavy oak desk and flashed you his most dazzling smile. His nimble fingers unbuttoned the top two buttons of his pale yellow shirt and ran absently along the tanned skin of his throat. You had only started working for the hero as his personal assistant for little over six weeks now. Your temp agency had pre-assigned you to his agency but wouldn't disclose the reason why they pulled you from your prior assignment in Nagasaki. Your eyes lingered a half-second too long before you swore his perfect, sun-rivaling smile grew predatory.

"Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?" Your thighs shifted together beneath your pencil black pencil skirt and you hoped he didn't notice your squirming. He took the files you tirelessly worked over and shook his head.

"I think we're good, Y/n. Thank you."

You excused yourself from his office and beelined to the restroom. Splashing cool water on your face brought you back; you always suspected that your new boss was a flirt. Hell, he dictated his fan replies to you and his responses to the anonymous masses that elevated him up the Hero Billboards ranged from wholesome and sweet to downright lewd.

"He is your boss and this is just a job! We do not lust over our boss like some ill-mannered slut!" you scolded yourself in the mirror. With a huff and slightly better control over yourself you strode back to your desk and started on the next mountain of paperwork to fill out and catalog for your boss.

You felt like you had been working over reports and case data for backlogged cases for hours. A sharp buzz pulled you from your fastidious toil and the smooth, charming voice brought you back from data abstraction.

"Y/n, could you cancel my dinner reservations tonight? I'm afraid it's going to be a late night for everyone."

"Uh, yeah, sure thing."

"Oh, and call Tuesday in, would ya? You're the best."

The line went dead and you sat confused by his request...or maybe it was the heat that bubbled under your skin at his praise? Numbly, you opened his planner and hovered your mouse over the events for the day. "It's Monday. Why am I calling Tuesday's staffer in?" In your grumbling, you noted a tall, thin woman with soft blonde hair falling past her shoulders in cascading waves of spun gold stride past your desk. Wrapped in a tan trench-coat, her heels clacked softly on the polished floor of the agency. She always came on Monday, but you never thought anything of it. She didn't even spare you a glance as she pushed through the double doors and into Shindou's vast office. He greeted her with a wide sweep of arms and that obnoxiously gorgeous smile of his. The blonde woman giggled in his arms and sat herself across from his plush throne. Shindou made his way to the doors and shut them, flashing you a glimpse of that same hungry grin you swore you caught earlier.

With a raised brow, you shook your head and dialed the number affixed to the Tuesday staffer's sticky note on your planner app. Naturally, the call went to voicemail.

"Um...hey, this is Y/n from Grand Hero Agency. Grand is calling you in to work for the night. Thanks." Awkwardly, you hung up the phone and tuned the rest of the world out as you poured over your reports again. Your heart still hammered in your chest as you felt his eyes burning into you. Those harsh obsidian chips had a way of causing your brain to short circuit. Part of you wondered if that was a lesser known part of his famous quirk-- bringing women to the brink of stupidity with just his devastating grin? You sighed through your nose and pursed your lips at the report. Soft moans pulled you away from your work and you turned to the closed doors of his office.

Maybe you were mistaken. Your lip caught in your teeth, you strained to hear the conversation inside the office but there weren't any words. Another moan, louder this time, rattled the heavy doors of Grand's professional sanctuary. Blood rushed to your head and heat settled in your core. Spluttering over your desk, you squirmed in your seat and tried to imagine what depraved acts your boss was doing to pull those moans from his blonde companion.

Another girl, short and with a mess of red curls piled high on her head rushed through the department and stopped herself at your desk. Her chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath, sweat glistened down her pale, freckled collar bones. Even a mess she was a vision in olive green, and her eyes were pale ice chips set in porcelain. If the first woman was poured gold and refinement, this one was that one wild night in the pub wrapped in a pert little package.

"Don't tell me they started without me!"

"Ah! He's expecting you," you whimpered out in an attempt to hide your shame. The sprite bounced to the double doors in a huff and threw them open. The image of Shindou Yo's head nested between the slender, golden thighs of his blonde Monday staffer would be forever burned into your retinas. Her elegant head threw back against the plush leather of his office chaise and her long willowy fingers pulled through his jet hair as he coaxed another high keening moan from her glossy lips. The red headed newcomer held her hands on her hips and stood in the doorway. You drank in the scene and found yourself unable to pull away. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to look away and continue about your day but you just couldn't. Slack jaw and burning cheeks, you swallowed down your shame and sunk deeper into your chair only to feel his sharp, hungry eyes on you again. A silvery string of slick hung between his mouth and her glistening folds and the sight sent white-hot heat straight to your abdomen. Sinful smirk stretched across his handsome features, he dragged his tongue slowly along his slick-coated lips and waved the redhead over while he rubbed his golden goddess's thighs to help her come down from her high. With a pout the newcomer closed the doors behind her, leaving you in a puddle of your own desire.

You stepped away from your desk and began to make your way to the stairs. Air. I just need to get some air and then I can focus again. Heels in hand, you ran down the ten flights of stairs to the street level entrance. Your lungs burned with exertion, but the ten floors of steel and concrete between yourself and your boss only eased your unrest enough for you to think through the haze of your desire. His lascivious gaze stuck with you as you leaned against the cold glass lobby door.

It was hardly fair, the strain he put you under. He knew he was gorgeous, a literal god among humble mortals, and with his quirk he could have anyone he wanted. The longer you mulled over the implications of catering to the hero, the more lost you became. He knew what he did to you the longer he kept you on payroll. You could feel it when his eyes lingered on you whenever you brought him his decaf oat milk latte with extra espresso shot, or how he would gently vibrate his fingers against yours when you took his dictation. Your breathing slowed only to hitch at the thought of his tongue lashing at the dewy pearl between those bronzed thighs. What you wouldn't give to take her place sprawled out on that leather sofa carding your fingers through his jet hair as he nipped and sucked bruises into your thighs. Heat rose to your cheeks and suddenly the chill of evening was gone. Ignoring the gnawing, wet ache in your core, you sighed heavily through your nose. It started as a rumble through the foundation of the building and ended in a cascade of shattered glass with Shindou Yo triumphantly groaning his release into the skyline.

+++++

Wednesday marked the beginning of a new day with a new set of struggles. Grand would be out of the office, saving you the embarrassment of facing your boss at least one day this week. As you stretched and went about your morning preparations, Shindou's predatory stare haunted you. The warm, bitter aroma of hot coffee sloshing in your mug kept you grounded. Tiny scratches along your arms from the shower of window shards stung with every pull of your limbs as you dressed for the day. It would be at least two days before the building contractors replaced the windows. Maybe this time they would replace them with something more durable to seismic-grade vibrations than rudimentary glass. You pulled out your phone and squinted at the screen.

Message: Shindou Yo - Y/n, I have a few errands for you to run after sending those finished reports off to the HPSC. My list is already uploaded to your planner. You're the best, doll!

Your breath caught in your chest. It wouldn't take but a few hours to finish and courier over the reports, but Shindou's personal errand list? You cautiously opened your planner app and highlighted "Wednesday" with a trembling finger. This was a man quite capable of anything, and your career, your livelihood was in his large, devious hands. Much to your surprise (or was it disappointment?) his errand list was fairly innocent. Grocery lists, dry cleaning and package pick ups, it all seemed pretty self-explanatory. Every errand was detailed down to the minute, and for a moment you found yourself wondering why Grand even needed a personal assistant to keep his life in check. Dressed in your modest gray pencil skirt and white quarter-sleeve collared shirt, you took a quick look in the mirror. With a sigh, you steeled your nerve. This was your life now-- just another powerless pawn at the beck and call of a celebrated hero. You packed up your laptop bag, topped off your travel mug, and started your commute into the city.

Your key turned effortlessly in the tumbler of the deadbolt on his penthouse door. It was a feat with how many bags and hangers you had hanging from your arms. You cursed your boss and his arrogance. It was borderline harassment what he was putting you through. As you pushed through the doorway with Grand's parcels and bags, huffing to yourself over his arrogance, you swore you could hear the softest grunts coming from inside the suite. Dutiful assistant you were, you hung the tasteful slate and navy suits and dry cleaning in the foyer. Silence continued to permeate the suite as you worked to replace the groceries in the fridge and tidy the kitchen. Internally, you thought about calling the maid service if only to keep the penthouse clean for the careless bachelor.

"Hnnghnnn!!"

You froze and held your breath-- you knew that voice. A sickening crack resounded through the suite and was answered by another keening groan. A cool, low voice exchanged clipped, stern words. Your curiosity bubbled over and your skin burned scarlet at the vision swimming into view as you quietly emerged from the kitchen and into the open expanse of the playboy's living room. If the vision of his raven head buried between the bronzed and oiled thighs of a golden goddess left an impression, the sight before you would remain with you to the grave.

Rich, wine ropes dug into limbs hardened and sculpted by years of hero field work and honing his multifunctional quirk. Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose and onto the polished hardwood as he hung suspended by a bolt from where you assumed a light fixture once hung. A heavy black blindfold velcroed tightly to his handsome face kept him blindly sweeping his head to find his playmate. Sinful mouth was left woefully unattended and you felt your panties grow damp at the thought of all the horribly lewd noises about to be coaxed from his saliva-coated lips. But the cherry of it all, red and angry, weeping onto the floor bounced proudly against his washboard abs with every twitch and sigh. He curled backward, spine arched deliciously and stretched his pecs with every heaving breath. The leather-clad woman in thigh-high boots and fishnet bodysuit didn't even register as you drank in his helplessness.

"I want you to sit and think about what you've done, hero." Her voice was red wine and dark chocolate. It was night in the dungeon and her word was final. Her riding crop came down on the pale, toned flesh of his buttocks with another loud crack, earning another loud moan and a violent twitch of his neglected cock. Precum beaded and glistened at his swollen head, the light catching it in a way that made your mouth water from your hiding spot. As the imperious Amazon left the scene, your body moved on its own. Creeping through the dark, you sat on hands and knees beneath the quivering Adonis in his crimson silk harness. Wetting your lips, you raised up on your knees and dragged the tip of your tongue along the seam of his balls, up the thick vein running the length of his heavy shaft, and twirled around that leaking, hot head. He was all salt and heat on your tongue, a taste you could grow to appreciate under different circumstances. He let out a hiss under your tongue as you dragged the pad of your tongue against his head in soft kitten strokes. Your fingers drifted between your thighs and ran carelessly along your clothed silt, your slick rendering the cotton fabric useless. Grand was brought low by a Quirkless civilian, and all that remained was Shindou Yo, bound and moaning into the empty expanse of his penthouse. He keened above you and helplessly thrashed against his harness to seek more friction from your eager mouth. For a moment, you obliged taking his girthy length into the heat of your waiting mouth. He melted into his restraints and into the warm, wet cavern, helpless to your slow ministrations. His moans were low, needy notes littering their shared space. How frequently did you find your thoughts coming back to his penthouse? You moaned into his length and rubbed tight, sloppy circles on your clit over your drenched panties. The head of his cock pushed to the back of your throat. His poor, neglected cock twitched, and you felt yourself begin to come undone. His whimpering and frantic panting spurred you on until reason seeped back in through the cracks of your lust-hazed thoughts.

"I know you're still there," he sighed, still struggling against his binding. "I can smell you. You're loving this, aren't you? C'mon, sweetheart...is that the best you've got?"

His words, that sinful, husky voice doused whatever fire you had burning in your loins. He knew you were here. How could he not? Maybe he wasn't anticipating you finishing his list so soon? Or...more likely, in all his meticulous planning he wanted you to find him like this-- beaten and vulnerable, open to your advances. The door creaked open, signaling your chance to escape. Abruptly, you pulled his aching cock from your lips and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Scrambling gracelessly in your nylons against the hardwood, you dove back into the kitchen. Mistress Wednesday strode confidently into the frey, riding crop in hand. Harness slung across her hips in elegantly embossed black leather, her own proud length in dazzling ultraviolet was anchored to her crotch with a heavy steel ring. Eight inches and rivaling his own girth, your eyes rested on her gloved hands and how they worked to nimbly prepare his needy, puckered hole for the beating it was about to receive.

It was too much to take in. The scene unfolded and elevated to a higher level of filth you were far from accustomed to, and you, despite every cell in your body screaming to stay and enjoy the show you silently stole away. The only sound signaling your departure from the suite was the gentle click of the deadbolt latching between Shindou Yo's hungry moans. You called in sick the next morning agonizing over whether or not it would be poor form to put in your notice.

++++++

You fidgeted at your desk when he crossed through the foyer to his office. It was a patrol morning, and naturally he had to grace his staff with the morale boosting sight of the boss hitting the streets just like the lowest-rung side-kicks in his employ. His bare chest glistened under the fluorescents. Sweat dripped from his pretty-boy brow and harkened back to that moment when he was curled back on himself, sweat dripping down his sinew and steel body for an entirely different reason. It was all you could do to avoid his sharp, onyx gaze and that heart-melting smile.

"Y/n, I hope you're feeling better," he grinned. God, how you hated that grin! "We missed you yesterday."

"Ah, yeah. May I help you with something, sir?"

He canted that gorgeous, raven head of his and narrowed his eyes at you. "Actually there is." You waited for him to finish, your heart leaping into your throat the longer he loomed over your desk, but he never did. Instead, he sauntered through the double doors of his office and gestured for you to follow. Numbly, your feet followed before the rest of you could catch up.

Contractor tape still lined the window panes, a reminder of the last time you were caught in his crosshairs. You squirmed mulling over the implications of his quirk, your position, and how inexplicably tangled you had become in his daily life. As he pulled off his faceguard and set the sweat-stained support gear on the rich oak hardwood of his desk you felt him burn through you as if committing every exposed freckle to memory. He zeroed in on your lips and smirked, holding his arms open as if to invite you to take a moment and fully appreciate him for the god among men he was.

"Like what you see, sweetheart?"

You swallowed hard and nodded before you could stop yourself. It seemed to be the right answer because in seconds he was on you, pinning your back to the desk. He leaned over you, nose barely brushing yours and licked his lips slowly. His stare was downright predatory as he loomed over you, hands heavy and rough pawed at your poly-blend wrapped hips. He gripped at the dark fabric and eyed you hungrily. The breath you didn't realize you were holding slowly escaped through gently pursed lips, the preamble to what should have been your verbal notice. But something in his stare kept you silent, submissive. The possessive hold he had on your hips kept you grounded, but the scent of him after a patrol sent you reeling. Effortlessly he lifted your hips and slid your skirt down your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders once freed. It was his turn for his breath to hitch in his throat-- he drank in the sight of your damp, silk panties and dragged his tongue along his lips as if imagining how your fluttering walls would feel convulsing around his tongue. Pupils blown, he raked his eyes over your half-dressed frame.

"Shy? I thought we'd be long past that, sweetheart." He lowered his head and dragged his lips across the soft skin of your inner thighs. "After all, I still have to return the favor," he purred, dragging his tongue in one broad stroke up along your soaked, clothed cunt. A shuddering gasp broke through your self-imposed silence and you all but melted into his mouth. He hadn't even used his quirk on you and he had you quivering into his mouth. You felt him grin that feral, wolfish grin into your heat and the lift of your lower back from the cool, hardwood of his oak desk. How many times did he seduce and lay waste to his catch of the day? It barely mattered as you carded your fingers through the tangle of black curls and opened yourself to his advances. Shame was an afterthought you could afford if it meant you could satisfy that carnal curiosity surrounding your boss.

"Y/n, who knew you'd be such a lewd little slut." He pulled your panties to the side easily and teased your clit with the very top of his tongue. It started with a low, steady hum and graduated to a heavy buzz focused entirely on the head of your tender bundle. The sensation brought you to the edge almost too quickly. You fought against his hold, squirming and writhing with your legs squeezing helplessly around his head as he continued holding his tongue against you. Incensed by your sudden fight, he slipped a finger easily into your drooling hole and searched for that spongy spot that brought white stars to the edges of your vision. A moan, high and sharp ripped through you as he pulled his mouth from your now swollen pearl. Hungrily your cunt clenched around his finger, and soon he added a second. Your eyes clamped shut at the sudden addition and your body tensed around him. He planted soft kisses and gentle bites along your thighs as you slowly came back to a baseline he deemed appropriate. The moment he felt you relax, you felt it-- a hook of two calloused fingertips digging mercilessly up into your g-spot, vibrations resonating from deep within. You kicked and fought to writhe away and again he held you fast against the desk effortlessly. You tugged and pushed at his head, your end coming all too quickly. Your breathing grew frantic, moaning out half syllables and empty pleas for him to stop.

"Yo!!"

Shuddering into his mouth, you rode his fingers to completion, legs trembling around his ears like his own personal earthquake. He withdrew his fingers and brought them to his lips, groaning at the taste. Shindou palmed his half-hard cock through his hero suit and lowed his head for a taste from your source. Satisfied, he pulled your ass lower down the desk and helped you find your feet back on the ground. Your heels long forgotten, the carpet felt foreign under your bare toes when he turned you around by the hips and bent you over the desk. His hands lovingly dug into the meat of your ass and spread your cheeks to peek at your holes from a different point of view.

"So sweet, little miss secretary. So submissive. Who would have guessed you'd be such a dirty little voyeur, too…" he purred in your ear. The shuffling of fabric and the soft sound of skin sliding on skin punctuated his statement. "Bet you never thought you'd be part of the show, huh?" You whimpered under his caresses, slick dripping down your thighs as he ground his thick cock between your cheeks.

"Please, sir…" you moaned, rubbing your thighs together for some semblance of friction to ease the growing ache. "I can't. I need you."

He ran his hand down your spine and rubbed soothing circles over your hips. "Use your words, sweetheart. Sir can't give you what he doesn't know you want," he teased. The head of his cock rubbed between your thighs, catching your swollen clit and earning a soft moan. "Say it."

"Please let me cum on your cock, sir!"

As if that was all the permission he needed he sheathed himself into your needy core in one stroke. Spasming, you felt as if your joints would pull apart from the pleasure alone. He stilled inside you and gave you a moment to adjust, if only to revel in how tightly your velvet walls hugged around his girth. Satisfied, he gripped the back of your neck and rocked his hips into the plush muscles of your ass and thighs. You reached before you and dug your nails into the desk, moaning out like the only two adults left in the entire city were the two of you. Wanton and wanting you rocked back, earning a low groan in return. His hand wound around your hair and gave an experimental tug as he picked up the pace, the head of his cock curving into the soft sponge of your g-spot. White hot, pleasure surged through you from fingertips to toes and left you screaming his name as you came around him

"Yo! Fuck me, please don't stop. Yo, don't fucking stop!"

He grinned above you and pulled your back tight against him, spine arched beautifully by the hair you continued to whine and beg as he rutted his hips against you. "That's it, sweetheart. Let loose a little. Sir's got you. That's it. Cum on Sir’s cock again."

His words enough could have been enough to be your undoing, but it wouldn't be Grand if he didn't bring that little extra something to the scene. He sheathed fully, angling up and pulling hard on your hair to kiss his head to your tender cervix. Stars flooded your vision, and your legs threatened to give if it weren't for the strong hold he had on your hair and the solid desk beneath you. He didn't budge from your tight, fleshy ring. As he held you, he closed his eyes and focused his quirk into that spot he just knew few before him had touched. Deep, rumbling vibrations threatened to rend your soul from your still breathing body as you convulsed and clenched rhythmically on his cock, milking him. Words were lost. The longer he fed on your spasming body, the sensations and sounds he could pull from your pliant, willing little holes, he felt himself get lost.

"Cum, I'm cumming again, Sir! Fuck, I can't fucking stop!!" With one last spasm, he let go of your hair and let your body slump over his desk as he took your ass in his hands. He spread your cheeks and watched as his cock disappeared into your tight pink sheath and sloppily gave a few more thrusts before digging back in and releasing with a low, gravely groan. Hot, thick ropes of white coated your abused hole as he continued his release. Your body trembled, cunt still clenching tightly around his softening member, and you whimpered softly into the desk. First emptiness set in, and then anxiety. Emotions crept back in where lust once sat, and all you could do was slowly piece together what just took place.

As if sensing your growing distress, Shindou scooped you into his arms and peppered your cheeks and nose with chaste kisses. His tenderness seemed out of place given how savagely he had used you moments ago. The leather couch was cool against your after-glowing skin. He left you briefly, retreating to his private restroom, and returned with a washcloth.

"You're okay, sweetheart. You did so good. Better than I ever expected." He crooned over you as he gently wiped the remnants of his spend from your leaking hole. "Looks like you passed. Congrats, we're hiring you on full-time, Friday," he grinned coyly. It took a moment for the gravity of his words to sink in and finally it hit at once. In your fucked-out haze, you barely registered what he meant. It was going to be a long rest of your career.

#shindou x reader #shindou smut #yo shindou #shindoumas #bnha smut #bnharem

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bush-viper-cutie · 3 years

Text

“Final Exams Week” || YEAR 3 – Ch.33 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 12/4/2020

Word count: 3, 416

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Heather ran her tongue against her front teeth and squinted at the words on the page. The sun was shining down on her stolen potions book and no matter how she moved her head to block it, the glossy ink kept blinding her. She sighed and let her head fall back against the rough bark of the tree she was leaning on.

“Angelina said she’d work all summer to afford a firebolt – ”

“The team would be unstoppable then!”

Heather quickly stuffed the potions book in her bag and stood to face Harry and Ron as they approached. “Won’t you act the least bit disappointed you lost the Quidditch Cup? For me? Just for show.”

Ron nearly tripped and slid down the small hill in his attempt to suppress a laugh. “Just face it Heather. You saw how fast Harry was. Next year Gryffindor will win every match, the Quidditch Cup, and the House Cup. And the year after that, and the one after that. There’s no stopping the firebolt!”

“As if.”

“Catch!” Harry tossed a can of iced pumpkin juice at her. “We’ll get you a firebolt over the summer and then maybe Slytherin might be able to keep up.”

Heather caught it and dropped back onto her spot facing the lake. “You know we can’t afford it. And since we can’t, I think a week of gloating is quite enough from you two. You’ve only won a measly match.”

“Says the losing team,” Ron laughed.

Harry and Ron sat beside her and took out their textbooks.

“I can’t believe it’s almost June.” Harry flipped through the pages of his textbook lazily.

“How’re we supposed to study for our exams with all this homework?” Ron turned the pages one by one while staring at the giant squid as it propelled itself out of the water, twirled, and splashed back down.

Tiny waves crashed on the lake shore as laughter could be heard from the other students basking in the sun on the grassy castle grounds.

Heather picked at the can of ice cold pumpkin juice with her nail, wedged it underneath the tab, and plucked it up hearing the tantalizing fizz. She smiled and pressed the opening to her lips.

“WHAT are you three doing!”

Ron, Harry, and Heather screamed as Hermione came out from behind their tree.

“You should be studying for exams!” Hermione handed them each a paper with their study schedules along with their exam times.

Harry waved his textbook in her face. “We’re already doing that.”

Hermione pushed the book away and placed a single hand on her hip. “Not out here. There’s too much distraction.” She dragged the three of them into the castle and forced them to sit down in the much quieter Great Hall during study hour. “Now you can ask the Professors any questions you have.”

Heather, Harry, and Ron grumbled as the summer air blew through the doors.

Heather glanced at Hermione’s exam times and frowned.

‘Monday:

9 o’clock, Arithmancy

9 o’clock Transfigurations

Lunch

1 o’clock, Charms

5 o’clock, Care of MC

11 o’clock, Astronomy

Wednesday:

10 o’clock, Herbology

Lunch

1 o’clock, Defense Against DA

1 o’clock, Ancient Runes

3 o’clock, History of Magic

5 o’clock, Potions

5 o’clock, Muggle Studies’

“Hermione. I don’t think Snape will let you leave early to take your Muggle Studies exam or arrive late from it.” Heather watched Hermione stuff the paper in her bag and push her hair behind her ears.

“Of course not. That’s silly.”

Ron pulled a face. “Then you’ve copied the times wrong.”

“No.” Hermione snapped. “And might I remind you, you’ve got two essays due tomorrow. Now… I NEED to study so no more interruptions – Where’s my copy of ‘Numerology and Grammatica’? Have you seen it?”

“Yeah, I used it for a bit of bedtime reading last night,” Ron mumbled.

Heather pulled the book out from under a stack of five and slid it roughly across the table to her. How could Hermione not trust them? After everything they’d been through? What. Was she afraid of spilling her punctuality secrets?

Hedwig flew down and landed on the large stack of books besides Heather. She pulled the letter out of her beak and handed it to Harry to read while she smoothed down Hedwig’s fluffy white feathers.

“From Hagrid.” He turned the note over and flipped it open. “Buckbeak’s appeal… Its set for the sixth of June. That’s next month…”

“That’s the last day of exams,” Hermione said from behind her book.

“Well they’re coming up to the school for it with a Ministry official… and an executioner.”

Hermione gasped.

Ron took the note out of Harry’s hand and turned it around to read for himself. “That’s not bloody fair!”

“Mr. Weasley!” Professor McGonagall gave them menacing eyes from the High Table.

“It doesn’t sound like they’ll be very willing to hear Hagrid out.” Heather gripped her quill tight and poked holes into her parchment. “Not fair at all. Poor Buckbeak.”

“It’s Malfoy’s fault.” Harry looked around for him, ready to stare daggers.

“Yeah, and I’ve got a stack of handwritten Hippogriff research scrolls to shove down his throat. Where is he?” Ron stood, searching with Harry for their target.

“Do not make things worse with him,” Heather warned.

Although she managed to settle them down to study that day, she could not help the growing hostility between them for the next several days. However subdued Draco had been after the Slytherin Gryffindor match loss was all in the past now. Draco had regained his confidence after hearing from his father about Buckbeak’s scheduled beheading, thinking it was all thanks to him, and was now parading around the castle with Lockhart’s same pompous attitude.

After his daily dose of bragging, gloating, and boasting he took extra time from his busy schedule to sneer at them from afar, whisper rude comments about it in the corridors, and even pass taunting notes to Harry and Ron during classes.

‘Ignore him’ was all Heather and Hermione were saying until exam week began, and an unusual silence fell upon the castle. Even Percy was going around shushing anyone who disturbed the quiet of the corridors.

“People are studying!” he hissed at a group of second years before going back to soundlessly reciting charms and spells on his way up to the Gryffindor common room.

“He’s almost as bad as Hermione,” Ron noted, turning around to watch Hermione bump into student after student from behind a leather-bound book so large it hid even her bushy hair.

Harry eyed Heather as she doodled in her art journal as they walked. “How are you managing to not have a mental collapse like them?”

Heather scoffed. “For the same reason the Slytherins and Ravenclaws never worry over exams. Slytherins are always studying and Ravenclaws are always OVER studying – It’s not impressive they could pass next year’s exams, it’s annoying. They should stop bragging.”

They sat all of Monday’s exams and by late dinner the whole school was spent and puffy eyed. Heather sat with Pansy and her friends who were all talking about the tasks for Transfigurations, particularly the one that involved turning a brick into a crow.

“Yours looked like a raven.”

“Did you see Cindy’s magpie?”

“I heard Neville’s was still red – ”

“I heard Neville’s was still a brick.”

Heather rolled her eyes and turned away. Almost everyone at the table was bragging about their results, which would be fine if she wasn’t a little insecure about her transfiguration and charm skills. As much as she tried, Hermione was always better and got the spells faster than Heather did. The only reason she wasn’t more worried about her skills on those subjects were mostly due to Ron and Harry and their consistently horrible attempts.

Draco turned to Heather and smiled. “Know what I Saw in the crystal ball?”

“Was it Hermione smacking you again?”

He frowned and stabbed his fork into his potato salad. “No. That pigeons head rolling around those pumpkins. Got perfect marks for that too.”

“That’s funny. I saw YOUR head rolling around the boy’s urinals. Perfect marks on that prediction as well.”

Draco set down his fork and slid his wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at her, hidden from view of the High Table. “Is that a threat, Potter?”

Heather scoffed and leaned forward. “It is if you don’t stop talking about murdering that poor creature.”

He laughed and nudged Goyle beside him. “Hear that? She thinks she can take me.”

Heather had better things to do than sit around the table entertaining Draco and the two goons beside him. She still had Astronomy to study for and got up to join the several other students who were gathering at the astronomy tower to go over star charts and planet paths.

The test was on the last century only and as much as she hated when Harry cheated, even she knew he’d need her answers to pass. What star constellation was visible during the mountain troll attack of Hogsmeade in 1901? What planetary alignment led to the invention of self-tying brogues? The easiest part was the final question which asked what the current visible stars, constellations, and planets were.

After the test Professor Sinistra collected their telescopes and let them hang around for a few minutes while she put them away.

Ron’s hair danced in the wind as he leaned over the stone half-wall and squinted through the darkness at the grounds. “Er… Harry? Did YOU remember to put our Salamander away after the exam?”

Harry pulled him back and leaned over the wall, holding his glasses securely to his face as he looked down. “I’m sure Hagrid will notice the small fire…”

Heather looked down and saw tiny flames growing in the bushes on the outskirt of the forbidden forest. “Is there ever a year where you two WON’T damage the school in some way?”

“What did we do first year?” Harry pulled them back and together headed down the tower stairs.

If they still had their invisibility cloak Heather would have suggested going down to tell Hagrid about it and also taken the opportunity to check in on him – which they hadn’t been able to do for several weeks due to the strict rules on Harry and her because of Sirius Black. The strict rules wouldn’t be much of a problem, except the cloak was still down in the one-eyed witch’s tunnel which was under constant guard of Snape, Filch, and Mrs. Norris after their last talk and Heather’s outburst in Snape’s office.

She didn’t think there was anyone as naturally suspicious and distrustful as Snape was. The way he could smell out trouble and deceit and stay on his intuition was impressive in some ways and just downright annoying now that she disliked him.

The next day was spent studying for Wednesday’s exams in the common room during the morning – since Harry and Ron had stayed up late and were fast asleep during valuable studying hours – and the library and study hall in the afternoon with Hermione as frantic as ever.

“Oh! Why is there so much to know!” Hermione gathered all her notes and pulled at her hair. “I-I’m going to go splash water on my face.” She stood with a thick pile of notes in her hand and walked away from their table towards the large Great Hall doors.

Heather bit her lip and ran to catch up to her. “I’ll go with you. I could quiz you with those notes while you dunked your whole face in water if you wanted.”

Hermione stopped her and shook her head. “Oh, no, that’s alright Heather.” She stood waiting for Heather to turn around and march back to Harry and Ron.

“I don’t mind.” Heather crossed her arms.

Hermione nodded slowly and handed her the stack of notes. “Wonderful.” She walked out of the Great Hall and down the corridor towards the girl’s bathroom.

Heather looked through the notes and found the ones for Ancient Runes. “What’s – er – the symbol with the bug and two lines mean?”

“Too easy. It’s the letter ‘B’. Give me actual sentences.” Hermione turned the cold water on and ran her hands under.

“Hermione. How are you going to take this exam at the same time as Defense Against Dark Arts? In fact, how have you been attending this class at all?” Heather stared at Hermione reflection and watched her look around the sink.

She frowned and turned off the running water. “I – well – You’re supposed to be quizzing me. I have six exams tomorrow – ”

“You’re keeping a secret. I know it Hermione. I can understand why you wouldn’t tell Harry and Ron… but me? Last year you got upset that – ”

“Yes I know! But… I’m sorry, I’m just not allowed to tell. I swore I wouldn’t.” Hermione took back her notes and looked down at her shoes. “You can go back. I’m staying here for a minute.”

Heather clenched her jaw and ignored the tightness in her chest that made her want to tear up. Before she had friends she’d always found it easy to hold back tears. Now it was hard to not show her emotions around them, even when she was hurt and sad. “Just tell me. Please? You’ve hardly been around while somehow being around and if it’s because of this secret so why not just let me know? We’re best friends.”

Hermione looked up with watery eyes. “Then why don’t you share your secret first?”

Heather looked around at the dirty tiled floor and up at the streaky mirror. Should she come clean about the raskovnik growing in her charmed pot? She’d have to explain then about the stolen library books as well…

“I know you and Draco hung out over the summer. You went to his house. I overheard it.” Hermione wiped at her eyes and huffed. “He’s always using the word mudblood, always fighting with Ron and Harry, and now he’ll be responsible for Buckbeak’s death… and you’re friends with him. Harry doesn’t even know you’ve been INSIDE his house.”

“It was only a few days! I swear! I hated it there but I NEEDED to. You don’t understand how it is in Slytherin. Flint doesn’t even want me on the team for being a girl. I have to keep up the drills and beat all those stupid boys who are all so much stronger than me! I don’t even know what I’ll do next year if Flint doesn’t get held back again and some other idiot becomes team captain.” Heather pressed her palms to her eyes and sniffed. “I have to prove I’m not weak because I’m a girl. I have to prove I’m not weak because I’m a half-blood. I have to prove I’m not a house traitor because of Harry.” Heather wiped her nose on her sweater sleeve and sighed. “I don’t get to relax comfortably in a house that just accepts me… Everyone’s always watching me, waiting to see me trip up and prove them all right… And then I’m stuck all summer in a house that forbids magic? I’m sorry Hermione… please understand? I know how horrible he is to us. But I needed his help.”

“I… do. I’m sorry I know it must be hard not being in Gryffindor with us. But who cares what they think? They’re all just a bunch of blood-purists. You have us aleways. And we don’t judge you or anyone else like that.” Hermione hugged her and pulled away.

Heather nodded and wiped the few tears that had escaped. She was relieved Hermione forgave her. Maybe if Harry found out, would he too? Although it might be harder after Buckbeak’s appeal depending on the outcome. “What’s your secret then?”

Hermione sighed and hugged her arms. “I really can’t say… yet… Look, I swear I’ll tell you on the train. But you can’t tell Harry or Ron… ESPECIALLY not Ron. He could mess up the whole world and even worse, get me expelled.”

Heather nodded and they sealed the deal with a hand shake. She walked back into the Great Hall and a minute later Hermione followed and was back to her usual frantic self.

The next morning was the Herbology exam which had them out in the sun baking to crisps in the greenhouses. Defense Against the Dark Arts exam was after lunch and Professor Lupin had made them some sort of obstacle course outside.

“Oh no…” Heather’s eyes swept across the transformed grounds closest to the lake at the small pool labeled ‘Grindylows’, the field of potholes labeled ‘Red Caps’, and the patch of marsh labeled ‘Hinkypunks’.

“The end of the exam is hidden. Full marks to those who come out the right tree.” Professor Lupin smiled and signaled the start of the exam.

They waded through the pool – holding their socks and shoes in one hand and their wands in the other – then jumped over the Red caps, squished through the marsh while Hinkypunks shouted misleading directions, and headed into the trees. Heather stayed on the marked path and tried to figure out the correct tree. There was a large tree the width of Hagrid’s shack with a large hole carved out the side. It looked hungry, with its gaping mouth showing the darkness that would engulf anyone who entered.

Harry was the first to crawl in with Hermione, Heather, and Ron following in right after. With wands up they fought the new boggart that was shoved into a hollowed branch. For her turn, Heather swallowed as it slithered out from its hole in the darkness and dropped to the ground just beyond the light of her wand.

“Riddikulus!” Heather shouted, before it could manifest into anything. A bouncing red and gold ball rolled into the light. She shot a simple spell at it and it shot back into its hole, wedging in tight.

Almost everyone had received full marks, except poor Neville who had to face his grandmother telling him Snape would be his new grandfather. He was so shaken up several students had to help walk him up to their next exam, History of Magic.

Heather was fairly certain she’d passed all her exams so far, and was now worried about potions.

“After this we’re free!” Ron skipped down the corridor. “The last exam of the year!”

Heather could still hear herself shouting at Snape to shut up and the look of pure rage on his face. She was going to fail. She knew it. He hadn’t even given her detention for that – nothing. He was waiting for this exam to get back at her and Harry.

“We’re going to fail this one.” Heather shook Harry’s arm as they walked down the dungeon stairs. “He’s going to give us low marks out of vengeance!”

Harry pushed her away. “What’s new?”

“He’s never done that to me! You, I understand, but I always get high grades! Second to Malfoy – ”

Hermione huffed. “I thought you were second to me.”

They took their seats near the back of the classroom.

“No… Second to Malfoy but I’d be first if he’d just let me ‘study’ with him – ”

“Silence.” Professor Snape stood from his desk and began explaining the exam.

They were afforded two whole hours to brew a Confusing Concoction which turned into the biggest, messiest disaster Heather had yet seen. Cauldrons were erupting with goo, over spilling with sticky liquid, or hardening into chunks that melted out the cauldron bottoms.

It took Heather almost the full two hours to complete the potion and in the end she wasn’t sure if it was supposed to look like yellow cake batter in there. Snape peered in and grinned before marking his notes and tisking vindictively. He then stepped over to Harry’s cauldron and waited as Harry desperately tried to thicken his up enough. Snape stood tapping his notes with his fingers and the second the bells tolled, scribbled something suspiciously like a zero and walked away.

They left the dungeons feeling empty and relieved that everything was over. Heather and Hermione were starting to poke fun at Ron and Harry’s attempts when their attention was caught by the two men waiting at the bottom of the Entrance Hall stairs.

Cornelius Fudge and a black-hooded man with a large blade stood looking at all the students as they ran to the Great Hall for late dinner.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

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sheerbeautyreigns · 3 years

Text

DESIRE

Part 54

"You will not embarrass me again. Understand?"

Later that evening, Joe and Paul arrived at the arena. Paul had a couple of last minute meetings and Joe had pre recorded both of his segments. Even though he wasn’t fighting, he decided to stick around for the draft. Paul would be staying on too. He and a few others stood around a screen in gorilla position watching the first picks. Vince, Shane, Stephanie and Paul were nearby. Joe had to avoid looking at Paul too often in case he would be noticed. He couldn’t fail to when he was chosen for Smackdown in the first round. He had been on Raw for four years. Paul could see both the shock and annoyance in his eyes, even though he was trying so hard to overshadow it with a smile since the McMahons were around. He also caught Drew’s uneasy expression. The first pick for Raw was Colby. He exchanged a look with Joe as if to say ‘This is bullshit.’ Joe looked at Paul again, shaking his head slightly. Paul looked at him as if to say ‘What do you want me to do?’ Drew was the next pick for Smackdown. He placed his hand on Joe’s shoulder and said lowly “Looks like you won’t be getting rid of me that easily.” Colby shook his head and shuffled off towards the emergency exit. Joe made his excuses to leave a couple of minutes later. Paul watched as he went off in the same direction but was unable to follow as he was in conversation with Vince.

Colby was just finishing up on a call when Joe appeared outside the emergency exit. “Man, I’m so pissed off.” He said resting his hands on his hips. “Me too. I can’t believe it, after all this time. I mean, Paul mentioned a couple of weeks ago that there could be the prospect of going to Smackdown but then he also said that we may have a wild card rule. This sucks.” Joe sighed, pacing nearby.

“Do you think Paul had anything to do with it?” Colby asked speculatively. “I dunno man, it was him and the McMahons. I know they needed a big shake up on Smackdown with FOX and all but…I dunno.” At that moment, Joe’s phone rang. It was Paul. He sighed and answered. “Where are you?” His tone was authorative.

“I’m outside talking to Colby.” Colby eyed him, swallowing. “I’m going back to the hotel. I’ll be waiting in the car in 5 minutes.” He ended the call.

“What did he say?” Colby asked. “He’s leaving in 5 minutes. Sounds pissed. If anyone should be pissed, it should be me.”

“Hey man, look this sucks, not getting to see each other much anymore but we’ll be fine.” Colby tried to console him. “It won’t be the same.” Joe frowned. “I know, I know. I’m gonna miss you.” Colby replied. “Come here…” He pulled Joe into a hug. Joe wanted to hold on longer. “You’d best get outta here.” Joe nodded. Colby could see the glassy look in his eyes. He watched as Joe disappeared into the building.

Paul started the car as Joe got in. The young man looked at him as he put his seat belt on but Paul stared ahead as he pulled out. “Are you mad?” Joe couldn’t bear the silence. He had to say something.

“Do I seem mad?” Again, Paul didn’t look at him. “Yeah you do. You won’t even look at me...” Joe was cautious about saying too much. “Since when is this relationship about doing things that you want to do, huh? Last time I checked, I was the one in control here.” Paul responded leading Joe to scowl as he looked out into the passing traffic. “Well?”

“Yeah.” Joe frowned. “Excuse me? YEAH? That is NOT how you address me-”

“YES SIR!” Joe retorted, clearly in a huff. “I swear to God, that training ain't done you shit.” Paul growled. Joe’s face hardened. His teeth gritted. Paul pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, settling near the entrance. He got out of the car first and walked into the hotel, not bothering to wait for Joe. The young man could feel his blood boiling as he grabbed his bag from the car and pursued him. He had never been like this before. Joe followed him into the elevator. “Why are you being like this? If anyth-”

“Shut up. You will speak only when spoken to from now on.” Paul said firmly. Joe swallowed as his heart thumped in his chest. He knew he was in trouble. Hesitantly, Joe followed him out of the elevator and up the hallway. Paul tilted his head, holding the hotel room door open for Joe to enter. The young man hesitated and looked Paul in the eye. “Go on.” Joe had a horrible feeling in his gut as he walked into the suite they had enjoyed just hours before. Paul closed the door and took off his jacket. He set it over the back of a nearby chair while Joe set his bag down. He was afraid to walk any further in. “Take your clothes off.”

Joe did as told, watching as Paul took out a bottle of whiskey from the mini bar and poured himself a glass, adding some ice. He took a seat at his laptop, taking a couple of sips. “Kneel.” Joe swallowed, lowering to the ground, crossing his wrists over behind his back, his head up looking into the space before him. All he could hear was the odd sip of the whiskey and the tapping of keys from his laptop. This lasted for about 10 – 15 minutes. His legs were now starting to hurt, as was his back. Paul noticed him shuffling as little as he could but he continued typing.

Joe tried to fathom how this had come to be. Things between them had been great earlier in the day. Great sex, relaxing afternoon with room service. Why was he so pissed off now. He could feel his eyes getting heavy and he tried hard to stifle a yawn. “Tired?”

“Yes Sir.” He replied timidly. A small smile crossed Paul’s face as he rose from the chair holding his glass. He walked into the ensuite and ran some water. Moments later, Joe was shocked by the splash of cold water of his face. He gasped and coughed, rubbing the water away. “What are you doi-?” Joe tried to ask before Paul clutched his jaw aggressively. “I said you will speak only when spoken to.” His eyes met Paul’s. He was scared for the first time in a while. He clutched Paul’s wrists with a look of desperation on his face as he still held his jaw. “You didn’t think I’d notice huh?” Confusion filled Joe eyes. “You didn’t think I’d find out about you still fucking around with Drew?” Oh shit. Joe now knew. Before he could speak, Paul grabbed him by the hair firmly and proceeded to slap him across the face.

“If it weren’t for you being on TV on Friday, I’d beat the shit outta you.” He growled getting right in Joe’s face, angrily. “I don’t know-aaaargh please” Joe tried again as Paul fisted and pulled at his hair. “Don’t you fucking deny it boy. I’ve seen the texts, the calls back and forth. Did you fuck him on Monday!?” Tears sprang to Joe eyes. He couldn’t hide it now. This was it. “Tell me!” Paul knew he had him now. “I’m sorry. Please Paul, you have to believe me…” Paul let go of him, effectively shoving him to the ground.

The older man instantly mounted him, placing his hand firmly around his neck. “Please! Paul please…I’m sorry!” He cried, struggling to get his words out. Paul eventually let go and got off Joe. The young man coughed and spluttered, retreating against the nearby wall. He started to sob uncontrollably as Paul watched, hands balled into fists. He wanted to hurt him so bad right now but he left the suite instead.

Paul returned just after 12am. The light was still on in the room. Joe’s bag was still sat in the same spot. Was he still here? He paused walking further into the living area, only to see him lying in a fetal position on the same spot on the floor near his laptop. He swallowed at the sight. As he got closer, he could see that he was sound asleep, covered in goosebumps. Paul always kept the air conditioning on. He looked over his naked body, curled up facing the wall and went into the bedroom. He took the blanket from the bottom of the bed and lightly draped it over him.

He hated him but he wasn’t gonna let him freeze like that. He watched him for a moment before he grabbed a cushion from the sofa and gently slid it under his head.

Paul undressed and climbed into the plush, King sized bed and lay in the darkness. As tired as he was, he still couldn’t sleep. All he kept thinking about was the man in the next room, sleeping on the floor. His heart swelled at the very thought but he couldn’t give in. He had betrayed him yet again. He turned onto his side and eventually fell asleep with tears in his eyes.

It was almost 9am when Joe eventually woke. His right arm ached since he’d been sleeping on his side on the floor, no less all night. A groan escaped his dry throat. Confusion crossed his face when he felt the blanket and pillow. The sound of tapping and the smell of coffee filled his senses. He started to sit up, only to realise that Paul was sat at his laptop. He was wearing a white hotel bathrobe. An overwhelming sense of dread filled him. Joe looked at him timidly.

“Thanks for the…” He muttered, motioning at the blanket. “I couldn’t let you freeze.” He said coldly. “There’s still some coffee left here.” He eyed the cafetiere on the side board. “OK thank you.” Joe bowed his head with appreciation and stood, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. It draped around his body. Paul eyed his hands as he took a cup and started pouring the coffee. They were shaking. Paul got up and took both the cafetiere and cup from him. “Your hands are shaking. You”ll burn yourself.” There was an edge of concern in his voice. Joe knew he didn’t deserve it. The older man filled the cup for him “Have a seat on the sofa.” Joe did as told clutching onto the blanket, trying to stop his hands from shaking. Paul set the cup down on the table in front of him. “Thank you.” He said lowly. He hovered for a moment, as if he wanted to say something but he was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Joe watched as he answered it and went out to the balcony, sliding the door behind him.

Joe took the cup and drank what he could before setting it down again. He buried his face in his hands, trying to pull himself together as his eyes welled up. This was it. The last time and he had nobody to blame but himself. He’d already admitted to sleeping with Drew. Nothing had happened with Colby but it made no difference. In the midst of his thoughts, Paul came back in. Joe stood and looked at him. Paul could see he’d been crying again. “Is it OK if I have a quick shower before I go?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Paul said looking a little taken aback, as much as he tried to hide it. “I’m surprised you didn’t leave last night.” He muttered. “I should have, I’m sorry. It was late…I won”t be long.” He excused himself, set the blanket on the sofa and went in to the ensuite.

Paul perched against the desk he had been sat at and pursed his lips. He couldn’t believe this was happening again. He knew Joe had been having his problems with his anxiety lately but he never imagined he’d make the mistake of sleeping with someone else again, not after what happened with Colby weeks ago. He hated to admit it but he could no longer trust him and it would have to end. He sighed lowly and stepped out to balcony again for some fresh air. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of Joe leaving for good this time. He distracted himself by taking in the amazing view of San Francisco. He immediately thought of the amazing views they were going to share in LA but that was ruined now. He shook his head as tears stung his eyes.

Joe stood by the sink blow drying his hair when Paul appeared at the door frame. He turned the dryer off. “Sorry about the noise.” His hair was almost dry so it would do.

“It’s OK.” Joe turned to face him, hesitantly padding towards where Paul stood. He moved back into the living room area allowing Joe to go about his business. The young man went into the bedroom and went about getting dressed and packing his case. “Have you booked a flight?” Joe looked up from his case, which was spread out in front of him. “Err no, not yet. I still need to figure out…”

“Well, you’ll be at Staples Centre on Friday. Are you just gonna stay on the West Coast? It’s hardly worth your while flying home and back…” Paul suggested folding his arms as he stood on the other side of the bed. “I’ll figure something out. I have some relatives in LA. Might be a good opportunity to visit.” Paul pursed his lips and watched him finish packing his bag. He swallowed, watching as he took the case in his hand and moved out to the living area. He retrieved the few items he had in the ensuite and packed them up while Paul looked on. “Since we were due to drive down to LA tomorrow morning, why don’t you just wait?” Joe’s eyes trailed over to Paul’s. “I…I’m not sure It’s a good idea.”

“I’m going there anyway.” Paul shrugged. “I just want to get out of your way. It’s already awkward enough. Thanks though. I’m sure I’ll get a flight OK.”

At that moment Paul looked online to see what was available. “Well, the next one isn’t available until tomorrow night. You might as well just stay here and come with me in the morning.” Joe felt uneasy. “Well, if you don’t mind? I can make myself scarce today and-”

“It’s OK. I’ve got nothing to do. Just a couple of Zoom meetings for NXT. Chill out.” He said taking a seat at his laptop again. All he did was work. Joe was a little relieved but he wondered why Paul had softened a little.

“I don’t know why but, you don’t have to do this.” Joe said softly. “I know I don’t.” Paul assured him.

“Why then?” Joe cursed himself for pushing this but he needed to know. “You know what, I don’t know either. Maybe it’s because I pity you. I know you’ve been having some issues lately and your head’s messed up…” He let out. Joe lowered his head. That hurt. It was the truth though. He turned away before Paul could see the tears escaping his eyes but it was already too late. He retreated to the bedroom with Paul in tow. “Look I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“I’m such a mess.” Joe sobbed, perching at the bottom of the bed. Paul lowered in front of him, clutching his face. “You should’ve just let me go last time. I didn’t deserve another chance with you.”

“Well, I think we both know that now. You need some time to properly sort yourself out. I want you to get better.” Paul said stroking his face, looking into his eyes. The young man sniffled as he wiped away his tears.

“I will.” He nodded “Look, just relax OK. I’m gonna get on with some work. Why don’t you just nap in the bed for a while. I can’t imagine the floor was comfortable at all.” Paul stood, walking to the doorway.

“No.” Joe agreed “Paul?” He turned around “Yeah?” Joe’s voice was soft. “Thank you.”

Joe awoke to Paul’s chatter in the living room. The bedroom door was closed and he could tell that he was trying to be quiet. He didn’t have to be. After all, it was his room and Joe should have been long gone. He reminded himself that he didn’t deserve Paul and that thought made him feel worse about sleeping in his super comfortable bed in the best hotel in San Francisco. It was 4:30pm. He couldn’t believe he had slept that long. With that, he got out of the bed, threw on some comfortable black jogging bottoms, a grey tank top and a hoodie. Paul had finished up his call by the time Joe appeared. He was sat at his laptop. He looked up from the screen and rubbed his eyes. “Did you sleep OK?”

“Yeah. I can’t believe the time. Did you get on OK with your meetings?” Joe asked hovering by the sofa. “Yeah good. It’s mainly prep for the next Takeover. Are you going out?”

“I was just gonna go for a walk, get some food. We’re not that far from Chinatown so…”

“That sounds good, mind if I join? I could do with some fresh air after looking at this screen all day.” Paul asked. “Of course not.” Joe answered softly.

Paul got up from the desk and changed into something more leisurely. In all the time they had been together, this was the first time that they had gone out in public together. Obviously, if would be different this time. No holding hands, no sweet nothings, no kissing. The thought of it hit the bottom of Joe’s stomach.

The thought of not doing any of that with him anymore. He made himself content with Paul’s small talk about work and San Francisco. They settled on a Noodle bar in Chinatown. Since it was a Tuesday night, it wasn’t too busy and they were able to get a nice booth in the back. The food was delicious and Joe could have had more. He was famished after not eating all day. When they were walking back to the hotel, Paul’s phone rang. It was Michael. Joe caught a glimpse, to which Paul noticed.

“I don’t mind if you wanna get that.” Joe told him. “I don’t wanna speak to him. He probably just wants to gloat about his plans for tomorrow night.” Paul dismissed. “I’m sure he’ll tell me in person anyway.”

“Well it’ll be nice for you to see your friends. Have some fun.” Joe suggested, trying to lighten his mood. “To be honest, there’s no point in going now. I was mainly going as I wanted you to meet some people, get more of a feel for the scene and…” Paul shuffled looking down at the ground. “You should still go. You might not get a chance for a while.”

“Nah, I just wanted to go with you.” He could hear the disappointment in Paul’s voice. He had been looking forward to this for weeks. Joe felt bad. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is. There’ll be another time. It’s just not good right now.” Joe felt helpless. “Well, at least think about it. I know your friends would want to see you.” Paul forced a smile as they arrived back at the hotel. “What are you planning on doing in LA over the next few days?” Joe changed the subject.

“I don’t know.” They got into the elevator. “I had planned on having some downtime with you. I have a nice suite booked at the Intercontinental. You?”

“I’m not sure yet. I still haven”t heard back from my cousin. He’s pretty flakey so I’ll probably just book somewhere when I get back to the room.” They exited the elevator and walked down the hallway. Paul unlocked the door and allowed Joe to step in first. “Probably won’t be as nice as the Intercontinental with this timing.” Joe checked his phone. He had a text from his cousin. “Aah, he’s away for work. My cousin.”

“Look, if it’ll be a problem finding somewhere, I don’t mind you staying with me?” Paul lowered to the sofa and switched on the TV.

“That’s nice of you but I couldn’t. I’m already imposing enough.” Joe started sitting on the other end. “You’re not imposing. I wouldn’t have offered of I didn’t mean it.”

“I don’t know how I’m still here to be honest considering you wanted to kill me last night. I never did deserve you. If I could take it back, I would in a heartbeat.” Paul could see how torn up Joe was about this. “What made you do it?”

Joe sighed deeply sitting forward. “I guess the big one was insecurity. I was scared of never knowing where I stand with you. Sometimes you can change so fast.”

“I have been trying to work on that.” Paul started. “I know. You know I’ve doubted myself before…I just felt at ease with Drew. I don’t worry about impressing him. I know you don’t want to hear that.” The room fell silent. “Do you love him?”

“No,” Joe looked at Paul. “I love you. I could never stop loving you no matter what.” Joe could feel tears coming to his eyes again. Paul could too. “I’ll be honest with you Paul. Despite how messed up it can be at times, this is probably the best relationship I’ve ever had with anyone. I know how stupid that might sound because It’s not even been a few months but, It’s different.” Paul sighed moving closer. “I hate myself so much because I fucked up so bad when all this time, all I wanted to do was please you. I’m such a mess.” Joe palmed away the tears but they just kept coming.

Paul shifted closer to him and put his arms around him. “Hey, you’re not a mess c’mon. I don’t want to see you like this.” He tilted Joe’s head and looked into his teary eyes. Paul kissed him on the forehead and trailed down to his lips. Joe could feel his bottom lip tremble at his touch. They stopped and looked into each others eyes before Paul kissed him properly this time. Joe gently took hold of Paul’s wrists and looked him in the eye as if to ask ‘Are you sure?’

“I don’t want you to ever be insecure when it comes to me. You know how much I love you. I need to trust you. Just as much as you’ve put your trust in me over the last two months.” Joe nodded, sniffling. “This is it now if you want another chance. No more fuck ups. I need you to completely submit yourself to me.” Joe’s stomach was filled with knots at those words. “Yes Sir, I will.”

Paul stood as Joe held onto his wrist, looking up at him with hope in his teary eyes. “Give me your phone.” Joe handed it to him. “This is the only way going forward, no more sneaking around behind my back. There will be no more contact with Drew.” Joe watched as he pressed a few keys, his stomach dropping as he did this. “From now on, I will be watching your every move. You will not embarrass me again.”

“No Sir, I promise.” Joe bowed his head as Paul dropped the phone down next to him. “Tomorrow night, I will make an example out of you. You’ll learn what it means to truly submit to me.” Paul said firmly. “Yes Sir.” Joe voluntarily lowered to the ground, kneeling before him.

#roman reigns #wwe #tribal chief #roman reigns fic #smut #fanfiction #d/s #drew mcintyre #paul levesque

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whumphoarder · 4 years

Text

¿Cómo se dice ‘I’m in Deep Sh*t’?

Summary: Due to unforeseen circumstances (and a bit of procrastination), Peter runs out of time to prepare for his Spanish presentation and ends up faking sick to buy himself some more.

He just wasn’t really counting on Tony being the one to pick him up from school.

Word count: 2,997

Genre: humor, fluff, whump

Link to read on Ao3

A/N: Based on a prompt from @coconutknightshade!

Apparently it takes a village to write a story lol—thanks to @xxx-cat-xxx, @sallyidss, @fandomsficsandfeels, & @seek-rest for beta-reading and ideas, and @lunannex for Spanish help!

“What if I just like… fake my death?” Peter suggests as he hands his mentor a different sized wrench. “They can’t mark me down for not doing it if I’m dead, right?”

Tony, who is currently bent over their latest project (replacing the timing belt in May’s car), snorts. “As someone who’s been officially presumed dead more than once, can’t say I recommend it. Way too much paperwork.”

Peter sighs. “Can we stage a kidnapping then?” he says hopefully. “Or an alien abduction?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s a four-minute speech, not the end of the world—though I have some experience with that too.” He holds out a hand. “Half inch ratchet.”

“A four-minute speech in Spanish,” Peter emphasizes, passing him the requested tool. “Which is a language I don’t speak.”

“Hence why you’re in Spanish class,” Tony counters. “With all the other kids who can’t speak Spanish.”

“But it’s also like ten percent of my grade,” Peter goes on as his mentor loosens the timing belt and removes it from the engine before handing it to Peter to set aside. “And I have to talk about what I do in a typical week, and it’s not like I can say I go patrolling or come over to the compound, so I’m gonna have to make stuff up—”

Tony interrupts, “Yo veo mucha televisión,” he says sagely.

“—and then what if I get up there and forget everything and just sound stupid?” Peter continues his rant. He groans and passes Tony the replacement belt. “Maybe I should just conveniently get the flu on Wednesday.”

Looking up from the engine, Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you really this stressed about it? Because if you need to focus on school, I could just finish this up myself.”

Peter sighs again and runs a hand through his hair—he hadn’t meant to complain this much, he’d just kind of gotten on a roll after Tony asked him how school was going. “No, no… I wanted to come over—really. And I’ve got three more days to work on it, it’s just like… ugh. I should have taken German instead.”

Tony huffs out a short laugh. “Pretty sure they have to speak in German class too.”

“Yeah but MJ’s not in German…” Peter mutters under his breath.

“What was that?” Tony asks, elbow deep in the engine block.

Peter expels a breath. “Nothing, it’s fine,” he says a bit more audibly, trying to convince himself as much as his mentor. So what if the most observant and shrewd person in his year also happens to be in his Spanish class?

(And so what if he might have a bit of a crush on her?)

Tony chuckles. “You’ll do great, kid,” he assures. “Just make sure you practice.”

Peter forces a smile. “Right, yeah, of course.”

Practicing, however, turns out to be easier said than done.

With finals fast approaching, it’s crunch time for all of Peter’s classes. Whatever spare moments he has over the weekend are spent finishing up his Animal Farm essay for the English summative and cramming for his geometry test Monday morning. The upcoming Spanish presentation hangs over his head, but it’s more annoying than anything else. He figures it should be fairly simple to actually bullshit something and translate it if he just sits down and does it (which, ironically, somehow makes it easier to push off).

He’s intending to work on it Monday evening, but a winter storm hits that afternoon, dumping eight inches of snow and ice on the city. Peter spends most of his patrol assisting with minor traffic accidents and helping stranded motorists scrape ice from their vehicles or shovel cars out of parking spaces. By the time he gets home late that night, he’s too exhausted to do much more than sit on the couch with May and drink cocoa while she watches Grey’s Anatomy reruns.

Oh well. He’s still got time.

Peter tries to make good use of his study hall on Tuesday, but the period ends up being kind of a wash. He spends half the time attempting to come up with something to say that is both interesting enough to make him seem not totally lame while still believable enough to fool MJ, and the other half messing around on his phone and trying to recall the name of the annoying song stuck in his head.

(It was ‘Goodbye’ by The Spice Girls.)

He’s intending to finish the presentation Tuesday evening after he gets home, but then Ned throws an unexpected monkey wrench into his plans just before the final bell rings.

“So I gotta be there early for warm ups, but my mom will pick you up around six, okay?” he tells Peter as they pack up their book bags.

Peter frowns, confused. “...Pick me up?”

Ned tilts his head. “Unless May can give you a ride after all? But I thought you said she was working tonight, right?”

All of a sudden it clicks—tonight is Ned’s first band concert. He’d taken up percussion a few months back in an effort to beef up his extracurriculars for his college applications. Peter agreed to go to the performance weeks ago.

“Oh right right right,” Peter quickly covers. “Six is great. I’ll see her then!”

Ned beams. “Awesome! My sister and her boyfriend are coming too, so we might go out to celebrate afterwards!”

“Yeah, awesome!” Peter agrees, forcing a grin. “That should be really fun.”

(Oh yeah, he’s screwed.)

The concert was cool. Ned hit that triangle with all the required enthusiasm whenever his parts came up, and Peter flashed him loads of encouraging thumbs-ups from the audience. When it was over, they all went out to Denny’s for some mediocre late-night pancakes and the usual Leeds family banter. All in all, a pretty fun night.

When Peter gets home a little after ten, he opens his Spanish doc in one tab and promptly falls into a YouTube hole in another while looking for background music. He’s still grinning when he closes out of his fifth vine compilation video in a row until he checks the time a second later and the grin dissolves. It’s 12:03 a.m.

Oops.

Study hall Wednesday morning will be his saving grace, he’s sure.

So, of course, a fight has to break out right outside of the library.

It’s not too bad—the two instigating students are hauled away by security with a couple bloody noses and black eyes, and a few other kids are taken down to the office for questioning. Peter was far enough removed from the action that he doesn’t have to come along, but the whole debacle eats up all but the last ten minutes of the period so when the bell finally rings, he’s got precisely five words written down:

Hola, me llamo Peter Parker.

(Suddenly all those jokes about faking his own death are starting to sound a lot more appealing.)

Or if not my death, he thinks as he trudges down the hall in the direction of his Spanish classroom, cold dread pooling in his gut, then at least…

He stops walking, glancing sideways into the brightly lit office just off the hall. The elderly nurse is sitting at her desk, glasses half-way down her nose as she reads a paperback novel with the picture of a Christmasy log cabin on the cover.

No. He can’t. He doesn’t lie.

...Unless…

No. May’s at work. She’d have to leave early to come and pick him up.

Okay, but it’s not like you do this often, his brain counters. Hell, you came to school with a concussion and two cracked ribs last month and didn’t say a word about it. May can take one for the team just this once.

Peter slips into the bathroom across the hall and waits there until the bell rings to signal the end of passing period, and then an additional five minutes on top of that to add some credibility to his act. He splashes a bit of cold water on his forehead and around his neck, and then works himself up with some heavy breathing before exiting the bathroom.

Folding his arms over his stomach, Peter moves shakily across the hall back toward the nurse’s office, making an effort to look as unwell as possible. A passing student eyes him suspiciously and gives him a wide berth, so he figures he must be doing something right.

Steeling himself with a shuddery breath, he steps into the office.

“Hall pass?” the nurse asks without looking up from her book.

“Um, no, I don’t have one, uh…” Peter’s heart is fluttering in his chest. “I just… I’m not feeling good.”

Eyes still on the page, the nurse silently taps a finger to a sign on the wall just behind her desk which reads: PASSES REQUIRED FOR ALL STUDENTS.

Peter swallows hard. C’mon, Parker—commit. “Right, but, uh, I came from the bathroom.” He hugs himself a little tighter and looks down. “My stomach really hurts. I was throwing up and, uh… stuff,” he concludes, deciding that in this case, less is more.

The nurse’s expression softens. She lowers her novel and gets to her feet with a small sigh. “Well, there is a bug going around,” she concedes, gesturing for him to sit down on the cot in the back of her office.

Peter keeps his responses vague when she requests more specific information on his symptoms, mostly offering shrugs or short, mumbled answers. She checks his temperature and seems slightly suspicious at his lack of fever, but he makes up for it by getting up suddenly and darting into the nurse’s bathroom.

When he emerges—exactly seven minutes and two new levels of Candy Crush later—Peter makes sure to keep his eyes averted from the nurse’s gaze and his movements slow and a little unsteady, one hand hovering over his stomach. She gives him a bottle of Gatorade and a couple of crackers and tells him to lie down until May comes to pick him up.

“I got ahold of her,” the nurse informs, sounding more sympathetic now. She slides a small garbage bin beside the cot. “She says she’s just finishing something up at work and then she’ll be right over.”

“Thank you,” Peter mutters tiredly. He doesn’t even have to act for that part—between the stress of his upcoming finals and his last couple of late nights, he really is exhausted and he has a bit of a headache. It makes him feel just the slightest bit better about pulling May away from her shift that there’s at least something physically wrong with him, even if it isn’t what he’s claiming.

Under the thin fleece blanket the nurse gives him, Peter manages to drift off to sleep.

But it turns out, today is just really not his day.

“No fever yet, but sometimes with these kinds of bugs that doesn’t come until later,” Peter overhears the nurse explaining in a low voice. He’s lying curled up on the cot, face toward the wall. “If that happens, just remember that he needs to be fever-free for 24 hours before returning to school.”

“Oh, I have a feeling that won’t be a problem,” a familiar voice that definitely does not belong to Aunt May replies.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter’s eyes snap open fully and he sits up in a hurry.

Tony and the nurse are standing together beside her desk, chatting quietly. Tony turns to look at Peter, face straight but eyebrows raised in amusement. “Oh would you look at that—he lives,” he remarks. “Feeling any better, Pete?”

Immediately, Peter wraps an arm around his stomach and does his best to look ill. “Uh, no, not really... but, um wh-what are you doing here?”

“The hospital is a little short-staffed today and your aunt was having trouble finding someone to cover her shift,” Tony explains, keeping his expression perfectly neutral. “She called to ask if I minded picking you up. You know”—his eyes narrow—“since you’re so sick.”

(Peter gulps. He’s starting to wonder if maybe he’ll be sick after all.)

“So of course, I told her I would,” Tony goes on. “I mean, if you’re feeling this bad, we could hardly just leave you here...”

Peter has to force himself to meet Tony’s gaze. “Right. Um, thank you. That’s super nice of you.”

“Well, you know me, Tony Super-Nice Stark,” his mentor says with a small chuckle as he steps closer to the bed.

“Now, with stomach bugs, the biggest concern is going to be dehydration,” the nurse continues. “So you’re going to want to push fluids, especially if he’s having di—”

“Fluids, got it,” Peter cuts her off, feeling his cheeks heat up. He gets to his feet and starts moving toward the door, but Tony halts him by grabbing his arm.

“Hey, hey, slow down, kid,” Tony tuts at him. “You were just looking like you might pass out a minute ago.” He presses his palm to Peter’s forehead and glances over to the nurse, eyebrows pinched together in the semblance of concern. “He’s kinda flushed, right? Maybe we should check his temperature again.”

“It’s fine,” Peter mutters, barely managing to suppress an eye-roll. “I think I just need to go home and sleep.”

“Sleep is probably the best thing for him,” the nurse agrees, nodding. “But going back to dehydration, if at any point it’s been more than five hours since he’s last urinated—”

“Mr. Stark, c’mon…” Peter whines quietly, nudging the man toward the door.

Tony holds up a finger to shush him—there’s a twinkle in his eyes that’s honestly driving Peter mad. “Hang on, kiddo. This is all very important information. In fact”—he pulls out his phone and opens the notes app—“let me just write this down. So you said if he hasn’t peed in five hours…?”

The nurse goes on to happily share her wealth of knowledge regarding stomach viruses with his mentor. Tony nods along to her advice, looking genuinely interested the entire time, occasionally interrupting to ask pertinent questions. Meanwhile, Peter just stands there, quietly dying a little inside.

Finally, she concludes her little spiel and Tony thanks her politely, then asks, “You wouldn’t happen to have a bin or bag or something we could take with us, would you? I just got the car detailed recently—hate for that to go to waste.”

Peter lets out another low groan. “Mr. Stark…”

“Ah, I have just the thing!” the nurse says. She bustles over behind her desk and produces a plastic sand pail with assorted Paw Patrol characters on it. “I get these from the dollar store,” she informs. “They don’t look like they hold too much but you’d be surprised!”

Tony grins. “That’s perfect. Thank you so much, Alice.” Looking to Peter, he asks, “Need the bathroom before we leave?”

Rolling his eyes at his mentor, Peter takes the bucket from the nurse with a muttered “thanks” and strides directly out the door.

Tony doesn’t say anything for the entire walk to the car, but Peter’s mind is happy to fill the silence with dread and anxious thoughts as he imagines all the various ways his mentor might chew him out about this. Stupid Spanish presentation—he should have just winged it after all.

The moment that both he and Tony are seated in the vehicle and the car doors are shut behind them, Peter sets the bucket down on the floor and covers his face with a groan.

“Alright, let’s get it over with,” he mutters into his hands. “Lay it on me.”

“Just to clarify,” Tony begins, sounding a bit more serious. “You’re not actually sick, right? This was just to get out of your presentation?”

“Yeah, I dunno...” Peter admits, feeling defeated. “I was planning to work on it—I swear. Just, well, there was all this stuff due for my other classes, and then the snowstorm, and all these commitments just kept coming up, and I just kinda... ran out of time. Figured if I got sent home I could buy myself an extra day or two.” He sighs deeply, lowering his hands to look up at his mentor. “Are you gonna tell May?”

Tony huffs out a short laugh. “Honestly? I think you’ve suffered enough.”

Peter blinks at him, surprised. “Wait, seriously?”

“You listened to a school nurse describe the BRAT diet for three whole minutes,” Tony says with a snort. “I don’t think any lecture May or I could give would top that.”

“God,” Peter groans, running a hand over his face. “If I hear the word ‘binding’ used one more time…”

“But,” Tony says, holding up a stern finger as he starts the car. “As soon as we get back to your place, we’re finishing up that presentation in time for your miraculous recovery tomorrow, got it?”

“We?” Peter raises an eyebrow at him. “Do you even speak Spanish?”

Tony waves a hand dismissively. “I know French and Italian—close enough. More importantly, I am fluent in the language of bullshit, kid. I once convinced an entire board of investors that not adding a clock feature to the new Starkphone prototype was a philosophical statement about the ‘futility of time as a construct’ rather than an embarrassing oversight caused by deadline crunches, no sleep, and more caffeine flowing through my veins than red blood cells.”

“And how did that go?” Peter asks.

“Sold twelve thousand shares that day. And I got to meet the Dalai Lama.”

Peter just snorts.

“Oh, and there was this other time,” Tony goes on wryly, “when I helped my intern play hooky to get out of a school presentation by convincing the nurse he had the shits.”

Peter leans back against the seat with a heavy sigh. “I’m never doing this again, Mr. Stark,” he mumbles.

Link to all my fics

If you enjoyed this story, you might also like:

Karmaitis

Give the Kid an Oscar

You Broke Tony

#faking sick #sick peter parker #peter parker is a little shit #irondad fic irondad #sick at school #tony stark is a little shit #stomach bug #school nurse #the science in my fics be like

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inquisitorlavcllan · 4 years

Text

WIP weekend

(yes I’m aware it’s monday now lmao)

I was tagged by @ljandersen thank you!!

The only mass effect wip I have is a fic of my shepard growing up on mindoir that I typed out in a fever after daydreaming about it all day at work. This particular excerpt is when she’s 13, struggling with hiding her newly manifested biotics and the calorie intake it requires... oh and her older brother just discovered that she had these ~fancy powers~.

tagging: @hannahs-creations @adycat2 @dorianpavus

(side-note: yes her parents named all of their kids after greek gods)

“Come on Pers, pick up the pace. I’m supposed to be meeting up with Adam after this.”

Persephone was exhausted. Mind-numb, jelly-limbs, stumbling-over-herself exhausted. She could hardly think straight let alone fling mountains of horse-poop from the stables. She didn’t know how much she had to whine to get more food but she was starving to the point where her stomach was constantly growling, constantly in pain, constantly nauseated and if she could just get the colony to increase her rations there wouldn’t be this problem.

“Pers, hey, you alright?”

She felt dizzy, uncoordinated, the shovel was sliding from her hands.

“Persy!”

And she collapsed.

She screamed, bolting upright, biotics flaring as ice-cold water poured over her waking her up.

“What the hell?”

She found herself leaning against the wall of the side of the stables.

Apollo was standing over her holding a hose.

Jerk.

“Language. What the hell, yourself? What was that?”

“What was what?” she asked, a sorry attempt at feigning ignorance.

“You were blue for a second.”

“No, I wasn’t.” She pouted. There was no way he saw the biotics. She’d been so careful. She sniffed the air. “Ewwwww.”

“You fell over right into the crap.” He sniggered.

“Ewwwwwww.”

“You alright?”

No.

“I’m hungry.”

“Okay either you’re real dedicated or you really are that hungry.”

She splashed him with the crap-water. “That’s what I’ve been saying!” she snapped, trying to stop her biotics from flaring again.

It didn’t work.

“Persy…” he took a step back.

She frowned, lip quivering. She was hungry, cold, covered in horse crap and ice cold water and her brother just saw her biotics.

Worst day ever.

What if he told mom and dad? What if he told the colony heads? What if they sent her away? What if-

“Hey.” He sat down in front of her, avoiding the puddle.

“It’s biotics…” she mumbled.

“Biotics? What’s-? Wait, those powers the asari have?”

“And other aliens… yeah.”

“How?”

“Iunno, I looked it up on the extranet. Mom must have gotten exposed to eezo while she was pregnant with me. Or something like that. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know what’s gonna happen! Most poeople think biotics are freaks! What if the whole colony hates me! What if mom and dad send me away!”

“Woah, woah, hey. They wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know that!” she slapped her hands down beside her, sending out another splash.

“Hey!” he splashed her back. “Stop doing that!”

She glared at him.

“How did you get on the extranet anyway?”

She looked away.

“Persy.” he warned. “You don’t even have an omni-tool yet, how- HEY, You’re the one that’s been taking my omni-tool! I thought it was Hermes but it was you!”

“No one was gonna let me borrow theirs, and I wasn’t gonna ask someone about it.” She slumped back against the stable wall.

Apollo groaned. “Never. Again. Why mine? Why not Missy’s?”

“She always has hers, you always leave yours on the floor of your room.”

“You went in my- PERSY!”

“I didn’t know what else to do!”

“I’m gonna drag you back into the barn and throw you back in the horse-crap!

“Don’t you dare!”

“Or what? You’re gonna use your fancy biotics on me?”

“I can barely do anything! I don’t have an implant!”

“A what?”

“An implant. A thing they put in your brain to help you control it.”

“They put… a thing… in your brain?”

“Yeah, I already said that idiot.”

He glared at her.

She picked at the grass in front of her, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you want a thing in your brain?”

She shrugged. “’Unno. If it helps me control it better, maybe.”

“Wow. Maybe you are a freak.”

Her eyes snapped to him, tears welling, lip quivering. “I’m- I’m not-”

Panic.

“No, wait- St-Stop crying. I didn’t mean-”

“You can’t tell anyone. Please!”

“Fine! Fine! I won’t!”

She gave him the biggest puppy eyes she could, her lip still quivering.

“Promise?”

“Not even Missy? She probably won’t tell anyone and-”

“No! No one!”

He sighed, then shook his head. “Fine, I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

He held his pinky finger with a tight-lipped smile. “Pinky promise.”

#god this is so unrefined compared to the other excerpts I normally post #I don't think its *bad* persay I'm just unsatisfied with its wip designation lmao #tag game #not posting this on my writeblr bc i'm trying to keep it for original writing #ages for anyone curious #apollo and artemis are 15 at this point #persephone is 13 #hera is 11 and hermes is 9 #t minus 3 years til the raid and they all die rip #i legit have the 3 years leading from this point to the raid all mapped out #i'm not sure if i'll ever finish it all and post it but we'll see

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