#my moms interviewing for a better paying job so fingers crossed
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You hate your asshole boss. So, after an interview you two decide to take something for a spin
Kinktober 2023: Hate Fucking
As usual, minors DNI. Please interact with this if you liked it ❤️❤️ Enjoy!
You hated Bakugou Katsuki. He was arrogant, entitled, and full of shit. You wouldn’t let him know he got under your skin, though. You knew that would boost his ego to know the super positive and happy person you were, hated him. He was also your boss. Being the number 2 hero was already inflating his ego. Always going on and on about his obsession with beating Deku.
You are a people pleaser. Even when that person is your self absorbed boss.
So, you spent every day of your life kissing Bakugou’s ass. “Yes sir” this and “Please, don’t, sir” that. You are his relations manager so trying to control him was a pain in your ass and was wearing on your patience. You begged your company to let you be Chargebolt’s assistant when he harassed the other way. You’d rather be flirted with than yelled at constantly for using your quirk.
Gentle Touch is the name of your quirk. This entailed that just a gentle touch could calm down the most anxious person. You were also in school to become a therapist for traumatized civilians after Villian attacks. You needed a job to pay for school and your company scooped you up and paired you with your current pain in the ass.
Your quirk was used often when it came to the explosive man that is Bakugou Katsuki. You took a lot of pride in showing him how to calm the fuck down from time to time. His gravelly voice telling you to quietly “Fuck off” would make your entire day better.
Today, you broke. Bakugou had an interview with some popular gossip channel and your quirk was all used up before the first 10 minutes of it. Bakugou was pissed about the interview and the two of you almost didn’t make it on the ride over to the building.
“So, Dynamight, any special ladies in your life?” The hostess leaned over and you got a good whiff of her perfume.
“Just this bitch right here.” Bakugou pointed a finger at you, “Keeps me in line and shit”
“Oh-ho-ho, you’re in a relationship with your relations manager?”
“No!” You quickly interjected, “He means that there are no women in his life other than the women he works with, respectfully.” You always did this. You always had to clean up his crass language to keep the gossip media out of his business. Frankly, you were sick of it.
“Yeah, whatever she said.” He crossed his arms aaaand he was gone. While he was physically there, he was emotionally gone. This usually meant that you were going to be stuck answering his questions.
“Not even your mom?” The hostess teases.
“That hag-”
“No, Dynamight loves his mother very much.” You physically put your hand on his shoulder, signaling him to shut up.
“Ah, you two seem close. Tell me about yourself, oh great Relations Manager.”
“I have a useful quirk that calms Dynamight down so I was hired to keep him in line.” You regret saying that when the hostess raises her eyebrow.
“I see, so, you keep him in line and he pays your way through school? Sounds like a sugar daddy exchange to me.” She sneers, how did she know you went to school and that Bakugou paid for it??
“Listen,” Bakugou growls but you make a low sound.
“Ma’am, my desire to go to school has nothing to do with Bak-Dynamight,” You take a deep breath in, “I am just his relations manager.”
“A bitch too.” Bakugou sneers at you, narrowing his ruby red eyes at you.
“Looks like we have an enemies to lovers situation-ship!” The hostess is covering her mouth as you stare at Bakugou.
His lips quirked ever so slightly at the sight of your rigid body. You wanted nothing more than to walk off set and never see him again. Every damn time your relationship came up, Bakugou’s answers became more and more vague making it seem like you two actually engaged with each other beyond work.
“I’m done.” You clipped off your mic set, threw it on the ground, and stormed off.
You could hear Bakugou right behind you, stomping through the corridor. He called your name a few times and you felt tears come to your eyes. This job was ruining your life, if you were being honest.
“You’re not done.” Bakugou snapped and grabbed your wrist. You were brought back to reality.
“Get.Off.Me”
“No”
“Bakugou Katsuki, I am done with this job. I went on two dates with a guy and when I asked why he ghosted me later it was because he didn’t want to be involved with “Dynamight’s Girl,” what the hell does that even mean?!” You’re pushing on h8is chest with your finger, getting up in his face.
“It’s because you are my girl,” He sneers and corners you in the hallway. His arms are on both sides of you, trapping you.
“Since when?!” You’re looking up at him now.
“Since you first used your quirk on me”
“You don’t even know me” You push him with both hands and storm to your dressing room.
Of course, he follows you into the room and locks the door behind him. He stalks towards you, something unreadable behind his eyes. You back away from him until the back of your legs hits the desk behind you. You’re reminded of why you hate him so much. Of course he thinks you belong to him. He thought he was entitled to everybody around him.
“Listen to me,” He starts but you’re not having it.
“No! I am done working for you, I’ll find a different job and get myself through school.”
“No, you won’t,” He grabs your wrist and yanks you towards him. He pulls said wrist to his lips and kisses it. Never once did he break eye contact with you. You’re left speechless at his actions. “Now, quit being a brat.”
“Stop telling me what to do!” You scream and trash against him. “I don’t like you. I hate you” Venom laces your voice and you see something dark in Bakugou’s eyes.
He takes off his mask and ear pieces with one hand. He tightens his grip on your wrist and he pulls you impossibly closer. He leans in and licks a stripe from your collarbone to the shell of your ear.
“You hate me?”
“Yes, I hate you so much.” You whisper, closing your eyes. You’re losing control of yourself and you can feel your sex dripping with sudden need. Sudden need for your asshole of a boss.
“I can smell you, you know, dripping with desire,” he whispers in your ear, “I want you to turn around, pretty girl.” You stay put. When Bakugou notices your disobedience, he grabs your shoulders and turns you around.
Now, you’re looking into your eyes in the Vanity. You flicker your eyes up to Bakugou who has a Cheshire grin on his face. Your chest is tight and your thoughts are running a million miles a minute. It’s obvious from the way he’s tracing lines along your bicep, that he’s not going to hurt you. You can’t help the sudden feeling of dread and desire pooling in your stomach.
“Now, quit being a brat and listen to me,” He’s talking to your reflection in the mirror, “I always get what I want. What I want is to fuck you until you’re a blubbering mess.” You swallow something thick.
“Bakugou-”
“Katsuki. If you’re going to be my little fuck, at least call me by my first name.” Bakugou coos and runs a finger down your neck and along your collarbone.
“No. I fucking hate you, I won’t call you anything.”
“What happened to Yes Sir?” Bakugou teases.
You look at his reflection and suddenly he’s gagging you with his pointer and middle finger. Your eyes go wide and you can’t find it to be scared. Instead, you’re insanely turned on and pissed off. You bite down on his fingers and he jerks them out of your mouth. The asshole grabs your jaw and forces your hips against the vanity. You can feel his erection against your back.
“Bitch.” He sneers and you smile at the name calling. “I won’t do anything you don’t want. I am a man, though, I want to fuck you.”
You contemplate for a second, did you want this? The traitor between your thighs begged for him to fulfill his promise. Your brain though:? It was still unsure of what it wanted right now. Suddenly, you felt a tapping sensation on your temple. You looked at Bakugou and saw it was him tapping on your head.
“Don’t think too much. Just go with your gut.” Easy for him to say, your guts wanted rearranged. Slowly, you nodded your head.
“I warned you.”
“I’m going to tell you this won’t happen again,” You sneered at him. “You’re probably a pathetic fuck anyways.”
“I’ll prove you wrong.” You snorted at that remark.
With all this tension, he grabs your jaw and forces you to look at yourself in the mirror again. You grab onto the vanity and prepare for the worst dicking you’ve gotten in a while.
“I am going to tell you one time and one time only, keep your eyes on the reflection in the mirror.” You quirk an eyebrow as he begins to disappear behind you.
It doesn’t take long before he’s pushing your skirt above your hips. You try to crane your head back but you receive a swift slap to the ass. You yelp and turn your attention back to your mirror image. Bakugou makes haste by pulling down your underwear. He groans at the aroma of your gushing arousal.
You’re not prepared for him to lick from your clit to your asshole. A moan escapes from your plush lips and you feel your face heat up at the sound. Grabbing onto vanity with a vice grip, you’re prepared for the second lick. Bakugou doesn’t spend much time assaulting your clit from this position. Instead, he opts to tongue fucking the apex between your thighs. You try to not let his pride swell by wantonly moaning every time he hits something right. Which happens to be a lot.
Bakugou taps your ass cheek and teases your lips with his fingers. Is he asking for permission to finger fuck you? You make a whining sound to confirm that you need something inside of you.
“Good girl,” He praises and plunges his fingers past your labia.
“Fuck” You curse.
You can feel him smile against your sex as he slowly inches towards your tight hole with his tongue. You gasp at the sensation of his fingers curling inside your spongy canal and the assault on your asshole. Moaning his name, you look at your face and you’re surprised at the look that’s there. Your lips are torn from biting them to keep the sounds to a minimum. Your eyes have tears brimming in the corners. Bakugou continues to lick and thrust, driving you mad.
“Please,” you beg, “Please fuck me.” You can’t believe you are actually begging him to fuck you. The very man you hated so much.
“Have you been good enough? Want to see yourself fucked out of your mind? Bakugou stands and grabs your jaw. You nod your head with the little movement you’re allowed. You hear Bakugou shed the rest of his hero attire but you don’t dare turn to look at him.
“Hurry,” you plead.
Bakugou wastes little time in lining up with your entrance and beginning at a brutal pace. Letting out a strew of curse words, you let out a long drawn out moan. Using a staccato beat, Bakugou grips onto your hips to lift you up off the floor and changes the angles. He sets yet another brutal pace and you drop your head in pleasure. Bakugou slides out and pulls your hair by the scalp, making you look at yourself.
“I said to keep looking,” He growls out and you lazily look up at your image in the mirror.
You’re definitely fucked out of your mind. Your hair is disheveled and saliva runs down your chin. Your breasts have come out of your bra and shirt, nothing like you’ve ever seen before. Bakugou hums in your ear and slides back in. He thrusts and thrusts until you’re almost screaming in unison with them. There’s a tension building in your core that is threatening to snap. You grip the vanity as hard you can before your tipping point is reached.
“Katsuki,” You cry, “I’m coming.”
“Fuck, me too.” He grunts and you’re both moaning as you come down from your high.
Everything is silent as you clean up, head out, and go your separate ways. You leave in the same car but never say a word to each other. Soon, you’re home and you pass out from exhaustion.
The next day? Well, gossip gets around quick.
#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha#mha smut#mha bakugō#mha#bnha smut#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#x Reader#bakugou x y/n#boss Bakugou#dynamight#pro hero’s#kinktober 2023#kinktober
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11/24/2022
Apparently on the superstitious side noong nag meet kami ng friend ko binasahan niya ko with tarot cards and I remember getting a sword at wheel, though di ko maalala yung last one. Anyways, panay ko nakukuha to sa readings ko yung dalawa na to so damn if I do na lang talaga. HAHAHA. Usual it means me being stuck in a cycle and breaking out of it, which I always do.
For my second superstitious premonition, nawalan ng lunch box yung mom ko. Well nawala niya on the way to work, sabi niya sakin baka meron parating na papalit na better.
Sooo, ayun sa pagdadrama ko last night ay may sinendan pa ko ng resume at biglang naging interested sa experience ko at gusto akong interviewhin. While ngayong araw yung isa ko pang sinendan na company ay nag email din sakin for a job interview. Swear apat lang at one impulsive application submission ang ginawa ko and 3/4 ay interested. I think this calls for a slight affirmation na my experience and credentials are worth hiring kahit papano.
Marami pa rin pagninilayan with adulting life syempre, pero kahit papano masaya kong navavalidate yung educational attainment ko at achievements ko. Still we all deserve liveable salary pay naman talaga. Fingers crossed I’ll make a way to be independent 5-10 years from now!
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have u considered doing commissions to get sum money? p sure ppl would be happy to throw $$$ at you for ur godtier writing
I'm gonna be honest and say that I'm really weak willed so there are some problems with that that I'm just gonna go ahead and list because I feel like unless I explain why I'm too nervous to do commissions people will
1) I have a hard time staying within character limits. I tried a "practice commission" once for someone that was supposed to be like 1.5k words and I wound up doing like 2.2k or so and just gave them the extra length for free (for multiple reasons including it was their birthday but, i could not get through the entire concept they wanted and make it interesting within the word count they wanted)
2) most people don't realize how like, word count directly translates to detail. I see so many people want really cheap commissions (1.5k words for $15 is the one I see the most) and the fact of the matter is like. It's hard to put a lot of detail into something and make it interesting and explore an entire concept or miniature plot and stay within that limit. Just things like introducing where you are or just describing little actions like tone and blinking and motion eventually all add up. But everyone wants to try and get the story they want as cheap as possible, point A to point B, and the fact of the matter is that I'm not a McDonald's and my works aren't impersonal pieces that I just crank out with no heart, cut and paste, likrngmgkgjf its not a cheap cheeseburger, they take time and thought and effort but people are just "i want exactly this for exactly this price and not a penny more"
I guess you could boil this point down to " sometimes certain ideas don't translate into the short stories that everyone wants and I don't trust people not to be mean to me if they don't get what they want"
3) I actually opened emergency commissions once in a friend group but no one wanted anything fnfjnfnffkd lol
4) there are better writers charging the same commission price I would :(
5) I'm just. Extremely overwhelmed right now. I dunno how I would handle another responsibility right now or if I would just completely crack under the pressure because I've been having to shut my brain off and ignore current situations just to be able to function and not be crying 24/7
It makes me happy people say they want to commission me and I get messages every so often (despite putting in my header that I don't do requests/commissions) but like. If I'm having trouble just writing the things I want to at my own pace, how can I expect to be good writing something for someone else that I'm not really emotionally invested in? It doesn't feel right to like, "take a job" im not confident i can do
Also ngl I don't want to wind up having to tell someone like "sorry I don't want to write that" and hurt their feelings 💀 I'm just a little creature and I cannot change this 💀I'm too much of a pussy to do commissions so I throw my work into the void and hope some good Samaritans read my shit lmao. It's why I don't ask for help very often because if I'm sincerely saying "hey we need help" it's an emergency. This is just a really bad spot, otherwise I would have just idk cried about it on my main or whatever 💀like seriously I just got the stitches taken out of my leg on Tuesday and im still adjusting to my surgery otherwise I would go back to work today 💀💀💀 even though this medical leave is spoiling me with having free time again... the moment I begin to enjoy it, it's time to return to the grind again...
#my moms interviewing for a better paying job so fingers crossed#i mean there are no good paying jobs in corporate america but like you kwim#and i mean. im not qualified for shit and i dont plan on having a career
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BITCH I AM DEMANDING A FLUFFY PART TWO TO KYLO FORGETTING OUR DATE OKAY?!
I WANT SWEET AND NASTY MAKEUP SEX
HAHAHHA YESSSSS. here is part one of Kylo forgetting our anniversary.
“Hey.”
You sighed into the phone, slumped on the cool leather couch. The TV blaring before you, but you didn’t listen to what was on. It had been two weeks since you kicked Kylo out, the only communication shared were clipped texts and stale ‘Hi’s’ and ‘Byes’ when he needed to pick up clean clothes.
“Hi.”
Kylo took in a slow breath, you could practically feel the air hit your face. So close, yet so far, “Are you gonna be home today?”
“Yup.”
“Cool, I’ll be there at 12 during lunch. I have some shit to grab.”
You bit back sniffling, “Okay,” your voice cracked. “I’ll be here.”
———
You scrolled through your emails, waiting at the kitchen counter for him to show up. You'd applied for some jobs a few days ago if this was really the end of you two. You needed a job, there was no way you could afford living in the penthouse and at some point, Kylo would want it back.
It was in his name anyway, the only thing you really owned without his help was your laptop.
Fingers crossed you'd find something, you haven't worked in almost five years. You didn't need to with Kylo, and he urged you to not work. He wanted to take care of you, provide for you, help you in any way he could. But now, you were left high and dry, not even a single bank account in your name.
You swallowed back another round of tears, no.
No more tears, you'd get through this. You had family who would help, friends that supported you and wanted you to be happy. Even his mom, not that you'd stoop that low, was willing to help you.
It would be better to just cut all ties to him since there was a slim chance he would want to be back together.
You still weren't sure, you missed him. Terribly, barely sleeping because his presence was gone. Jumping towards your phone whenever it rang, hoping it was him on the other side calling to make it up to you.
But the man was stubborn, angry that you kicked him out.
Claiming that his accusations were valid, which wounded you further.
A light knock on the door drew you away from your wallowing, you took a shaky breath before whispering a faint, "it's open."
Kylo walked in slowly, dressed in his work clothes. A button-up, white, with his suit jacket and tight dress pants. His hair was getting longer, the harsh lighting of the kitchen showed a sheen of grease coating it.
And the bags, the bags under his eyes were darker than normal.
A part of you was smug over his appearance.
But the rest of you ached, fighting against your baser instinct to run towards him. So he could take you in his arms while you bathed him in kisses, mourning over the time spent apart.
"Hello," he nodded stiffly towards you. Not making eye contact as he shut the door. Kylo fiddled with the strap on his shoulder, his duffel bag hanging limp. Empty, ready to stuff more things inside before he ran away to whatever place he was staying.
"Hey," you croaked, eyes flitting back to your laptop. Biting your lip as you read through rejection after rejection, no one wanted you. The gaps in your resume were too long, your diploma meant nothing since you had zero experience.
Kylo's shoes scuffed the floor, sniffing loudly before he looked at you.
"I was going to grab some more things," he glanced towards the staircase, "All my stuff is at the dry cleaners right now, I've worn these pants two days in a row."
"That sucks."
He hummed, "Okay," backing away from you slowly. You watched him walk towards the stairs, back tense and straight. His hands were tucked into his pockets, something he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable.
You used to make him comfortable.
Now you just agitated him, even though it wasn't your fault you two were in this mess.
You stayed quiet as he rummaged around upstairs. Doors opening and closing, drawers slamming shut, you briefly heard swearing but you couldn't make it out. You hadn't thrown his stuff away, keeping everything organized. Right down to the hair products that he had left.
Color-coded and alphabetical by the sink.
His footsteps echoed to a stop, maybe he was considering kicking you out...
"Have you seen my black sweater?"
You stilled, his black sweater... "Nope."
A huff in annoyance, "The one that has the hole in the front, from when it got caught while we were in Niagra? It's not in the closet."
That's because I hid it, you thought. You'd been sleeping in it for the past week, it smelled like him and enveloped you like his arms used to. No way you were giving it back, call it a sacrifice of your relationship.
You listened to his slow descent to the kitchen, duffle now stuffed with clothes. He eyed you suspiciously, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek. Coming dangerously close to your seat, he angled himself behind you. A little to the left, but enough for him to spy on your computer screen.
"You're applying for jobs?"
You slapped your laptop shut, he didn't need to snoop.
"None of your business, Kylo."
He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling as he replied, "Might be good for you, to get out of the house."
"Mhm."
"You'll want to apply to multiple places," he stepped around you, opening the fridge for a brief glance inside. Spying one of his protein shakes that you hadn't thrown out, wasn't expired yet. Kylo cracked it open and took a small sip, "You won't be able to afford this place with entry-level salaries."
"Yes," you snapped at him, "I know that."
"Just trying to help, (Y/N)."
You climbed off your stool, moving away from him to curl on the couch. Already on the verge of tears, "You aren't helping, you're just being rude."
"Well, it's rude of you to steal my shit when we aren't together anymore."
That made the waterworks start, muffling your sniffles with your fluffy blanket. You tucked yourself away, desperate to disappear. Maybe when you woke up, everything would be back to normal, or you could wake up seven years earlier to avoid ever meeting him. Save yourself from the heartache that was tearing you apart from seam to seam.
You listened to the echo as he walked towards you. Huffing when he saw your shivering form, "I don't know why you're crying. I haven't been staying here for two weeks, we clearly aren't together."
"Whatever, Kylo," you whispered, voice breaking as you took in a wet breath, "Can you just leave?"
"Sure."
------
"I can't afford to stay there mom," you whimpered into the phone, you were stalling in your car. Parked in the garage of the apartment, you had been to an interview. Realizing the pitiful reality of your life, you had already begun to sell your designer clothes. Gucci purses, red bottoms, Tiffany earrings, Cartier bracelets, you name it. Anything that could help you create a bank account was sold off.
"Have you talked to him at all? Kylo wouldn't leave you high and dry, if anything he would pay for you to get an apartment."
"I don't want his help," you hissed.
A pause, "It would be humiliating to ask, I know he's expecting it. After the talk about jobs, he's just been waiting for me to cave and sacrifice my dignity."
"I'm just saying it wouldn't hurt to talk with him, I know you both have been avoiding it after the fight. It could bring you both some closure-or better yet-get you guys back together so I can get some grandbabies."
"Goodbye, mom."
You huffed as you hung up, slamming your head back into your headrest. Maybe you could sell the car, people would pay top dollar for a gold Porsche. But the title was in Kylo's name, birthday present, any money you'd earn would belong to him.
You pulled up your text thread, the last messages sent were from three days ago. He left you on read, you texted him goodnight after a few stale messages about your day and when he could come and move some furniture out. Kylo had gotten an apartment on the upper east side, right by his office. You checked the old Zillow listing, it was huge and ridiculously expensive.
Enough room for him and a new girlfriend, you were certain he was already fucking someone else. With how cruel he was with you, not even trying to make amends. Probably his secretary, she was always a slut. Showing off her tits to him, even when you came to visit. Kylo probably bent her over his desk the day after he left, just because he could.
You swallowed your pride, it was now or never.
Kylo, I think we need to talk.
Send.
Let's see how long it... oh?
What happened, I'm at work right now.
Quick, maybe he got the notification on his laptop.
Could I swing by the office?
Right now?
Yeah.
Typing...
I have a shareholder meeting at 2, make it quick.
You sped towards his work, determined to get there before he changed his mind and banned you from coming. You were shocked he even agreed, maybe he was having a rare good day.
Or forgot that you two were broken up.
After parking, you jogged into the building. No need to say hi to anyone, it was embarrassing enough to be the ex-girlfriend visiting. At least you were dressed up, people wouldn't think you were in the poor house, yet.
You smiled coldly at his secretary, not bothering to tell her what you were here for. Despite her stuttering about him having a meeting at 2, she was totally fucking him. There's no way she wasn't, a man like him can barely go a day without sticking his dick in something.
Whipping open the door, you were met with the uncomfortable silence that blanketed his office. Curtains were drawn, lights on the dimmest setting, the only noises were the door creaking and his fingers typing.
Like he was punishing the words, Kylo was good at breaking keyboards with his aggressive emailing.
You cleared your throat, watching as his eyes briefly flickered towards you before moving back to the screen. Okay, you walked slowly towards his desk. Pulling out a chair as quietly as possible, the leather squeaking when you sat.
Kylo let out a long sigh, leaning away from his screen. "What is it you want to talk about?"
With a harsh swallow, you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. Anything to avoid his penetrating gaze, "I just wanted to talk about, you know."
He blinked, face blank, "Use your words, please. I don't have time to fuck around, I have a business to run."
"I-I-I"
"Spit.it.Out."
"How come you never apologized?"
Silence.
Kylo's jaw clenched and unclenched, leaning back in his chair slowly. Staring directly at you, "This conversation?"
"Yes, I need to know."
"What good is it doing us now?"
"I don't know I just-"
"What are you hoping to gain from this?"
"Kylo-"
He huffed loudly, "I don't have to answer you anymore, we aren't together."
You slammed a fist on his desk, rattling a few pieces he had decorating it. Standing on your wobbling legs, "Listen to me, you can be an asshole all you fucking want but I deserve answers."
Kylo narrowed his eyes, standing slowly before you. His form towering, making you feel even smaller than you already felt. Crawling to his office for closure, and instead, he wanted to argue with you about the necessity of the conversation.
You watched his palms lay flat on the polished wood, crinkling papers he had strewn about.
"If you're here for money, just fucking say it."
"I am not here for-"
Now it was his turn to slam the desk, "Bullshit! You're here to fucking grovel because you don't know how to take care of yourself. Can't even get a second-rate job!"
"You're the one who insisted on taking care of me!"
"So you think it's okay to demand money when we aren't together? Selling off all the shit I bought you to pay the power bills?"
You gaped at him, "I would never."
"Shut up," Kylo spat, leaning further across to be nose to nose, "You forget that I have your email linked to my laptop. I can see every pathetic message about pawning what I worked for. What I provided you, fucking ungrateful."
"How dare you sneak through my email!?"
"It's not sneaking if I have the passwords, darling."
"You can't fucking do that," you pushed away, arms folded while you glanced around the room. All your pictures were gone, more proof that showed he was erasing your existence, "At least I'm not already fucking someone..."
"Excuse me?"
You spoke over your shoulder, "You heard me."
"Are you seriously accusing me of that," Kylo scoffed, "When that's what got us into this mess in the first place?"
You shrugged, "How long have you been fucking her, did you march to her place after I kicked you out?"
"(Y/N)."
"I'm a big girl, I can take it. Just tell me the truth, because there's no way you'd just abandon me if there wasn't someone else."
"(Y/N)."
You spun on your heel, snarling with a finger in his face, "How many women have you replaced me with? Huh? Or is it just your slut of a secretary-"
Kylo flipped his desk, everything crashing to the floor. You screamed as he began to throw items to the walls, tear books off the shelves, kicking his chairs to the ground. Anything he could get his hands on he attempted to tear apart.
"Enough!"
Heavy breaths.
"I'm not fucking anyone else! Are you fucking serious? All I've fucking done is work! Trying to just fucking move on but nooo," he faced you now, cheeks red and puffing. A few tracks of tears streaking towards his jaw, "You-you just have to be right, and have to be the victim of all this when it's both our fucking fault!"
Kylo paced away from you, running his fingers through his hair before crouching down to the floor. Cradling his face in his hands while he took in shaky breaths, "I fucking missed you, so much. It's all I thought about, but every fucking time I came back you ignored me."
"Kylo-"
"No, you fucking iced me out. I could barely speak to you and I wasn't going to do anything over text."
You succumbed to your tears, there was no way to hold them. Choking as you wiped away the floods, "I-I didn't m-mean to, you weren't talking to me Kylo. How was I supposed to r-react?"
Now he was crying, hiccuping in an attempt to steady his breathing and push through it like he always had. But he couldn't stop the tremor in his voice, "You could've told me you loved me or forgave me. Anything would've been better than this."
"Why do I have to be the one to apologize, I'm not the one who forgot our day and manhandled me in the tub! You were drunk, rude, and horrible to me, I deserved an apology."
"I know," he sniffed, "I tried to-the first few times I came back for clothes. But you hid from me."
You nodded slowly, pacing your way towards him. Unsure of how he'd react to you touching him, but you needed to be closer. You shuffled to his side, sliding your back against the gray wall to the floor.
"We've never been good at apologizing."
Kylo sat on the floor, mirroring you against the wall, "At least before, you didn't kick me out. Force me to crash on a couch, you know I don't fit on couches."
You chuckled softly, not wanting to smile at the visual.
"That's why our couch was custom," he laughed too, dull and humorless, "Because I kept sliding off."
"Yup."
Both of you swallowed, throats clicking in unison. Kylo shuffled in a more comfortable position, looking out at the clouded sky that peeked through the shades.
"For what it's worth, I am sorry."
A breath, "I never meant to miss our day, and I thought you were finished with me. I should've just spoken to you instead of drink, but that doesn't mean much now."
You hummed, "Thank you."
"I can write you a check," he sighed, "So you can get another place and still keep whatever's left of your collections."
"You don't-"
"I know I don't."
Kylo wrote you a check for half a million dollars, not looking at you when he ripped it from his checkbook. He mumbled about the bank may be needing to call him to confirm it, just have them call my office number.
Sending you off without another word.
------
Your new apartment was cute, small, perfect for you.
Light and airy, none of the fixtures were black or red. Hues of pink, coral, green, and blue danced around the rooms. Your couch was velvet, just because you wanted it to be. With an abundance of pillows and candles on every surface, you could fit them onto.
Your bed was a four-poster with a dreamy white canopy, soft and cloudlike bedding scrunched up from however you left them. No one was running around frantic to make the bed, or straighten the blinds, or draw the curtains, it was just yours.
The check was cashed with little fuss, you tried not to cry about it. You dropped off the old house keys at Kylos office, along with your car keys, there was no need to keep the Porsche. You weren't living that life anymore, you could buy your own car now! And it would be yours, it was too hard to drive the gift everywhere.
Kylo told you to keep the car when he found the keys, but you ignored his messages. He wouldn’t understand why you wouldn’t keep it, but that was his problem.
You sighed into your couch, looking at the TV nestled next to the bay window. Imagining where you could squish more houseplants… you already had an abundance but it wouldn’t hurt.
Your phone began to vibrate on the coffee table, startling you as you scrambled towards it. Oh, it was Kylo, odd.
“Hey?”
“Hey.”
“Uh,” you stood from the floor, scratching your cheek as you walked. “What’s up?”
He cleared his throat, “I saw you got a place, wanted to drop off a housewarming gift.”
Your face scrunched, balancing the phone between your face and shoulder. Popping a potato chip in your mouth, “Why would you do that?”
A sigh, “Can you just buzz me in? I brought wine…”
“Whatever.”
Kylo came in with a tight smile, dressed in some black joggers and a gray t-shirt. He looked like he just rolled out of bed, not his typical look on a weekday. He held up a brown paper bag, Whole Foods on the label.
"You went to Whole Foods?" you raised a concerned brow.
"Nope," he set the bag on your kitchen table, eying the plants and crystals that littered your living room. A few magazines were strewn around on the surface, "I had my secretary do it."
You glared at him, which he noticed before shaking his head rapidly, "New secretary-not the old one. His name is Brady, he's very nice."
Kylo stood with his hands in his pockets, glancing in every direction as you approached the bag. Humming when you began pulling out the goodies he had, as promised there was a bottle of wine. Your favorite, along with a set of glasses.
A clear purple tinge, almost vintage looking. Some of your favorite fruit, he blushed when you held them up to his eyes. Mumbling how you never had enough of them in the past, and it was their season.
Now you were blushing, finding some red velvet cupcakes. Packaged beautifully, and a small vase in the shape of a kitty. You placed it on the table, looking at it over and over. Biting your lip as you waited for something to happen.
"I like your place," Kylo croaked out, "It's very bright."
You chuckled, "You're just used to your eyes straining from all the red and black decor."
He hummed, walking down your hallway. Glancing indoors that were left open until he made it to your bedroom. You heard him groan when he saw the white sheets and canopy, Kylo whistled for you.
Obediently, you pranced towards him, taken aback when he was sprawled on your mattress. Facedown with his face in your pillow, groaning like he was trying to wake up from a good dream.
"I fucking forgot how good you smelled," he moaned out, looking over at you lazily, "What would I have to do to get you to make out with me in here?"
------
LOL, this was long, but I'll do a part three if you would enjoy the rest of their reunion.
TAGGING: @finn-ray-nal-beads @onlykyloscenes @candycanes19 @historyandfandoms50 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @ghoulian13 @mrs-kylo-ren @millenialcatlady @relationshipwithmybed @dancingmicrobes @wayward-rose @contesa-lui-alucard @daydreamsofren @insufferablelust @ohdamnadamm @mariesackler @caillea @safarigirlsp @jalexunderthestars @shesakillerkween @glassythoughts @zimmermansbrat @not-the-teen-witch @jynzandtonic @roanniom @celestiasin @glassbxttles @cornmousequeen @driversmutbucket @blowthatpieceofjunk
Here is the link to my Mega Masterlist for all your stalking needs...
#adam driver#adamdriver#kylo ren#boyfriend kylo ren#modern kylo ren#part two of our angsty part one#my writing#maybe-your-left
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Love On-Set (Pt. 06 of 10)
Pairing: Dacre Montgomery X Reader
Summary: You knew acting on Stranger Things season 3 would be a challenge, and you also knew, from the start, you'd have to work closely with Dacre Montgomery. But is wasn't a big deal for you, since this is your job and you're determined to act professionally. You had it all figured out, or so you thought, until the moment you were out face to face with Dacre. Then, this job became a lot harder than it was supposed to be, since you can't seem to focus whenever you're around Dacre. And you'll have to be around him a lot until the end of production.
Word count: 3 K
<- Previous part (05)
Next part (07) ->
{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}
{Stranger Things Masterlist}
×
Los Angeles
The fresh wind messes with your hair as you squint your eyes at the rising sun. You always loved the beach, but this one is your favorite. The way the light blue color of the ocean mixes with the sky is breathtaking, and you know you could spend all of your days here, just looking at the horizon, not a single worry on your mind. It's peaceful, like paradise. The sand is soft under your bare feet, and there's nobody here yet. It's too early, and the only reason why you're here is because you missed this feeling.
It doesn't matter where you go, you'll always want to return here, even is it's just for a visit. The only sound you hear is from the crashing waves, slow and calming, like music. You can't help but smile, eyes closed to better feel the warmth of the sunlight in your skin.
The unmistakable click of a camera gets your attention, forcing you to open your eyes again. Furrowing your eyebrows, you wonder if someone recognized you. It happened only once, even before the shooting for the season three started when a girl spotted you as the girl who Billy almost ran over. But that was it.
Turning around to check the source of the sound, your heart stops for a moment when you see Dacre, still putting his phone down.
“Sorry, but you were looking so good.” He says, making his way over you.
He's the one looking good. The white pants and pale blue shirt mix perfectly with the atmosphere, light, and relaxing. And all the rest too. His face, his smile, the way he walks. You're quick to notice the first three buttons of his shirt are opened and you wonder if he's getting this idea from Billy. “Me? Please, look at you. You're... Gorgeous.”
“Yeah.” She simply says, finally reaching you. “I'm glad you're still here. I was scared you'd be gone.”
Dacre lives forty-five minutes away from you. It's not that close, but close enough, you think. Maybe it's fate, or so says Millie. Like a sign. “I can't believe you came all the way here.” An hour ago, before you came to the beach, you answered his text to let him know where you would be since you wouldn't bring your phone.
“Better start trying, because here I am.”
Biting your lip to hold back a smile, you turn at the ocean again. “Well, this is one of my favorite places on Earth.”
“I noticed.”
“Really? How?” Crossing your arms, you look at him. Dacre's eyes are as blue as the ocean. But they're much more beautiful.
“The shine in your eyes.” He answers, shrugging his shoulders. “It's pretty obvious if you pay attention.”
“You say these things and I don't even know what to think.” Unlike you, Dacre doesn't try to hide his feelings or thoughts. He's honest, every time.
“Just tell me how you feel about this place.” He lightly touches your arm, and you set in a slow walk.
“Uhm...” You mutter, feeling as his hand slides down your arm until it reaches yours. His fingers linger for a while, and you feel the usual sensation Dacre brings you. Butterflies, moving all over your skin, tickling. Slowly, very, almost painfully, his fingers brush on yours, and when he's just about to let go, you decide to be brave, intertwining your fingers with his. You wait for him to still want to let to, but he doesn't. His grip only gets tighter. “It's beautiful, obliviously.”
“That's it? Is that everything you have to say about one of your favorite places on Earth?” You stop a few feet away from where the ripples reach. “You know you can tell me how you feel, right? I want to know.”
Taking a deep breath, you turn your body towards Dacre, trying not to look as nervous as you feel right now, holding his hand. “This is nostalgic. It's my second home after that house over there.” You gesture at a small group of houses by a cliff. “Mine is the tiniest one. I grew up here but only moved back a year ago. This beach makes me feel... Free. Like there is not a single worry in the world. It's... Bliss.”
Dacre is already looking down at you when your eyes meets his. The smile on his lips sends shivers down your spine. “I'm happy you shared it with me.”
“It's just... A couple of words.” Blushing, you look down. “It doesn't mean anything.”
“It means a lot.” His free hand comes to your face, fingers softly caressing your cheek and jaw. “To both of us.”
You were just about to say something when the water reaches your feet, and you give a little jump. “Oh my Gosh!” You exclaim, giggling.
“Wanna go for a swim?” He asks.
“I can't.” Shrugging your shoulders, you take a look at the ocean. “I don't know how to.”
“What?”
“It's not a big deal.”
“We were shooting next to a pool and you didn't tell me you can't swim?” He sounds a little offended, but when you look at him again, you can tell he's faking it. “I play the lifeguard, I should know that.”
“Well, you never asked.” Letting go of his hand, you start walking backward, away from the water.
“No, no.” He's quick to grab your arm, smirking. “We will go for a dive. C'mon.”
“No way!” You start pulling back, and a small fight starts. “You have your phone with you, remember? You'll ruin it.”
“Let me just–.” Dacre searches on his pocket, easily finding his phone and throwing it on the sand, away from the water. “Problem solved.”
“Dacre...”
“I won't let you drown. Trust me.” His voice invites you in, and you know you can't fight it. And you do trust him.
Sighing, you surrender, allowing him to pull you into the water. Your eyes are focused on his, and it's impossible to keep the usual distance. When your feet stop touching the bottom, you have no choice but to cling onto him, arms around his neck. Dacre holds you tight, arms encircling your waist, and you feel secure in his embrace. Fortunately, the water is calm, and the waves are small. It'll change in a few hours though, but for now, they won't be a problem.
There's nothing else to do now. Your foreheads are almost touching, and there's no space between your bodies. You've never been this close to him, not even on scene. You wonder if he can listen to your heart, beating insanely fast.
“Hold your breath.” He says and you nod, taking the deepest breath you can.
Dacre pulls you down with him, and you close your eyes shut. It only takes a few seconds before you break to the surface again, releasing the air from your lungs and lips breaking into a smile.
“You ok?”
“Yeah. Why?” You ask, letting go of him just to remove some of the hair that was attached to your face.
“Your cheeks are red.”
“Oh...” There's no way to hide it now, standing face to face with him. “I'm alright. I know you won't let your co-star drown.”
“Never.” He whispers, his voice deep and soft. “Actually, I–” Dacre is cut short by his cellphone ringing. It's a low, calming song you don't know.
“Maybe we should go.”
“I know who it is. This magazine wants an interview and a photoshoot but I told them I'd only accept if you could come with me.”
“What?” You giggle, furrowing your eyebrows. “I'm not as famous as you, they wouldn't want me.”
“The whole interview will be about Billy and Stranger Things. People are already shipping Billy and Amy, it'll only make sense if you're there with me.” As he speaks, Dacre starts making his way back to the beach, only letting go of you when you're out of the water. “And the moment season 3 starts, you won't be left alone by the fans, trust me.”
“Would James allow it? Seeing us together will raise suspicions.”
“Yeah, I texted James about it. He said it's a good idea, to get people hyped for the next season.” Dacre carefully picks up his phone. “What do you say? We could even go out after. Have dinner somewhere nice.”
Does he mean it like a date? It can't be... Right? “Ok, then. When is it?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. I'll pick you up.”
Smiling, you nod, biting your lip.
You would stay the whole day with Dacre, but you had promised your mother you'd spend the day with her. And Dacre understands it. You took him to your house so he could dry himself and have breakfast since he only had a cup of coffee.
When he leaves, your mother makes a lot of questions, and you're happy to answer. She teases you a lot, making silly comments and reminding you how handsome Dacre is throughout the day. You don't need to be reminded though, you know it very well.
When the next day comes, you patiently wait for him after having lunch and taking a fresh shower. You wonder if you'll always feel this nervous about Dacre. Just the thought of seeing him in a couple of minutes sends a shiver down your spine, makes your stomach burn with anticipation. When the doorbell rings, you jump up, taking your bag, and ignoring the stare your mother gives you.
“Bye, mom.” You mutter, heading to the front door. Taking a deep breath, you open it, trying not to smile. And failing. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He says back, and you start making your way to his car. “Excited?”
“Wondering what they'll ask. They always want some spoilers.” You get into the passenger seat, blushing with the fact that Dacre just opened the door for you.
“That they do.”
The ride is filled with chattering. You tell him about your childhood and he does the same. Eventually, you're not sure how exactly, you have your hand on his shoulder as he drives, then on his neck. He touches your leg every once in a while, and you can't help but blush a little.
But soon enough you're at this amazing, luxury hotel. The photoshoot will take place at the pools, which are absolutely incredible. It's huge, and there's an aisle in the middle, with a bridge that leads to it. A stylist comes to take you to the dressing room so you can change. It'll be 80's themed, so your swimsuit is very colorful, blue, green, and pink. The one piece is open on the sides and on the back, and it looks amazing. Your hair is done very quickly, beach waves with some volume. It takes an hour until you're allowed out, and Dacre is ready, talking to a guy. He looks good, his blue and green shirt unbuttoned, leaving his chest exposed.
“Hey,” you mutter when you're close enough. “Looking good.”
“Not as good as you.” He says, winking. “We were waiting for you, the interview happens now, then the photoshoot.”
“Alright.” Dacre guides you to a small scenario, with three chairs and a huge Stranger Things poster behind. The cameras are already positioned, and a woman comes to pin the microphones on your suits.
Once everything is ready, you and Dacre sit down, and a middle-aged woman takes the seat before you, a smile on her lips. The interview goes on very well, with small questions about what the public can expect from the new season, and from the relationship between Billy and Amy. People are really excited about it, you didn't know how much. You make a self note to make some research, to know where exactly the fans stand.
It was great until the video in the gym comes up. “I think it's pretty obvious, but that got people talking.” The woman, Maryan, says. “So I gotta ask. Is there anything happening between you two? Away from the cameras?”
You exchange a glance with Dacre, and you have no idea what to say. You don't want to say no, but you're too scared to say yes...
“Well, if there is you'll find out soon or later so...” Dacre speaks up, and you can tell this is the gentle way of saying this isn't her business.
She seems happy with that, making a quick remark before finishing the interview. Then different people take over. The photographer, a short man with grey hair and a huge camera starts guiding you around the pools. The stylist comes to fix your hair every time you strike a pose. And obviously, it takes little time for you and Dacre to be put close, very close.
You have fun though, laughing at his jokes about how weird things can get on these things. And that he's happy you're here.
“Alright. (Y/N), lie down, please. Dacre, sit down beside her.” Nodding, you follow the instructions. Half your body is in the shadow and the other half under the sunlight as you lie down near the pool. “Dacre, I want you to look down at her, and (Y/N), reach out your hand to touch his face.”
Trying to keep it professional, you do as he says. Dacre's eyes burn right through you, and you would give all the money you have to know what he's thinking. Slowly, you caress his jaw with your thumb, realizing you never touched him like this.
“You ok?” He asks, for the hundredth time. Dacre is always making sure you're comfortable, but the truth is that you're more than comfortable. You're actually starting to crave for this proximity, for his touch.
“Yeah...”
The camera flashes and you smile. “Look over here.” The photographer commands and you follow. “Amazing, amazing.”
The good news is that you're enjoying yourself. The bad news is that they make you get inside the pool, which is too deep. So all the photos have you on Dacre's arms, and honestly, you don't mind one bit.
The night is falling when the photoshoot is over and Dacre takes you to one of his favorites restaurants. It was an area on the back from which you have a view of the city. You both continue talking about childhood memories and stuff like that, and you tell him about your father. How he forced both you and your mother to put the walls high, to keep people away. Dacre is so kind though, reassuring you he wants to get in. That he wants to know how you feel, all the time. You still wonder if he means it though, you can't help it. But by the end of the night, after you both ate the desert and are now just chattering, you feel like he means it.
“Oh, have you read the script they sent us? They changed so many things they had to add another episode.” Dacre says, elbows on the table.
“Of course I didn't.” Shrugging your shoulders, you raise an eyebrow. “We got a five days vacation and that means no work. And since I have you to read it and tell me everything... Why should I?”
“Really? Are you making me do all the hard work in scene?” He makes a pause when the waiter comes with the check.
“James always likes it better when we improvise anyways.”
“I have no idea why.” He says, taking the check.
“Hey, we can–”
“I'm paying and that's not up to discussion.” He cuts you off, giving you a glance as he leaves the money on the table before standing up.
“But–”
“(Y/N), I...” You were just about to head to the exit when he stops, still near the table. “I'm not sure if I made it clear, I should've have... But this was supposed to be a date.”
Blushing, you gasp, looking at him in the eyes. “It kinda felt like a date but I didn't want to assume anything.”
“Well, if you're ok with it, I'd like this to be the first date.” Some people walk by, so you set in motion, walking towards the exit and to the parking lot.
“I'm ok with that.” More than ok, actually. Your stomach feels funny as he opens the passenger door for you, and your skin is on fire.
“Well...” He mumbles as he gets in, starting the car. “It's still a little early but since we have a flight tomorrow morning, we'll both need to get some sleep.”
“Definitely.” You agree. Tomorrow you'll be flying back to the set, straight to the kissing scene. As if he's listening to your thoughts, Dacre gives you a glance. “Excited to go back to work?”
“I am actually.” He nods, eyes on the road.
“Why?” It comes out suddenly because you can't help but wonder if it's for the kiss. If he wants to kiss you as you want to kiss him.
“...I miss the guys, that's all.”
“Oh...” Shifting in your seat, you look away from him, eyes on the road ahead. Your heart sinks a little, and now you're genuinely confused. “Me too.”
“Yeah.” He mumbles, a hand running through his hair.
The rest of the ride to your place is silent, and when you get there, you mutter a goodbye. Once you're inside, away from Dacre, you can't help but feel a little stupid. Maybe you're misreading the signs. He did say today was supposed to be a date, so you don't get why he ignored the kiss. He knows that's the scene you'll be shooting tomorrow night. You'll be thrown back into work straight into the very scene you've been worrying about since the beginning. You were hoping he'd say something, make it easier or... You just don't know anymore. If Dacre wants a date, he should want a kiss too, right? Isn't it how it works?
Not even the fresh shower helps you understand what's going on. With you or with Dacre. Climbing into bed, you feel the wind invading the bedroom, but you're too lost in thoughts to enjoy it. The truth is that you were excited to do it, to shoot that scene and finally kiss him, but now... Now you feel as you did on the first day.
The soft notification sound of your phone gets your attention. Stretching your arm, you take it. It's a voice message from Dacre. Maybe he regrets the whole first date thing and he wants you to know... It'll only make things worse, but you should know it. The sooner the better. You're a professional, and you'll manage to do your job no matter what.
Taking a deep breath, you unlock your phone, pressing play on the message and bringing the phone to your ear.
You can hear his heavy breath before any words come. It takes a couple of seconds until his voice breaks through. “I probably shouldn't say this through a message, but I think I won't be able to sleep if I don't let you know how I feel.” A pause, something falling on the background. “Tomorrow on the scene... It won't be Billy and Amy, it'll be you and me.” This makes you sit up straight, a hand in your heart as it starts beating dangerously fast. “I can't be Billy when I'm with you, when we're so close, it just... I've been breaking character every time and I never struggled so much with a character before.” His voice is heavy with sleep. “I know you've been struggling too and I have no idea why I didn't tell you all this in the car, I just... I really like you and tomorrow I'll kiss you but I didn't want our the first kiss to be like that... So I'm just letting you know when it happens it won't be Billy, it'll be me and... And I hope it'll be you too. Good night, (Y/N).”
His voice is long gone, but you keep still, frozen, eyes on the wall across the room. You can't believe what you just heard.
×
@baker151910 @shinydixon @dreamin-of-dacre @hanoi15 @lickmymelanin @foccus @multific @uncookspaget @kellysimagines @peakascum
#dacre montgomery x reader#dacre montgomery imagine#dacre montgomery fanfiction#imagine dacre montgomery#dacre montgomery#billy hargrove x reader#imagine billy hargrove#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove imagine
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Small Mishaps
Pairing: Chris EvansxBlack Reader
⚠️: All fluff💕
“Da-yee!”
Chris couldn’t help the smile tugging on the corners of his mouth as he heard the shouting of his newest nickname paired with little feet padding closer to his office.
“Yes bae-yee?” As if on cue, he turns to see the dangling plaits and toothy smile of his four year old, Kira, looking like the exact copy of him at that age and even displaying the same seemingly unending energy.
“Spa now?!,” she asks lightly tugging his hand to make him get out of his chair.
“Give me a second, let me make this last note,” he answers lifting her to sit on his lap. With a small huff, she wraps her arms around his neck making him chuckle from her cheek being pressed so closely against his. Ever since early this morning all she wanted to do was play her new game with him, but each time she asked he always said the same thing.
Later.
To anyone else, later might’ve been fine. However to a toddler, later was an unknown answer that just made her antsy as she looked at that ticking thing on the wall wondering when later would come.
“How long’s a second?”
“Well uh mathematically speaking, it’s much shorter than a minute.”
“Oh...what’s mat-tick-catly?” Head tilted back, his laugh echoes throughout the office and into the halls at his daughter’s attempt to repeat the challenging word.
“It’s just a big word for numbers,” he smiles kissing the top of her head. “Nothing you need to worry about until you get older and go to school. But hey guess what?”
“Hmm?!”
“I’m done, which means-,”
“Spa!!! Cmon da-yee you’re gonna look so pretty!,” she excitedly claps, leaping from his lap and pulling an amused Chris behind her.
———
“There, now no touch!,” Kira orders with a pointed finger making Chris hold up his hands in surrender as he chuckled.
“You got it.”
“And what’s going on here?” Back from your run with Dodger, you lean on the doorframe giggling as you take in the sight in front of you. Sat on the tile floor with one leg crossed over the other, white cream speckled with orange dots messily covered his forehead, nose, and cheeks while your daughter squat beside your nighttime bag rummaging through your products.
“Kira wanted to play spa, so I’m her customer.”
“Here you go,” she smiles handing him a single square of tissue paper.
“What’s this?”
“I think that’s your bill honey,” you quietly laugh as your daughter nods her head.
“Five monies please!”
“Kira, you’re gonna make your dear old dad pay? After all the fun we’ve had?” Rocking back and forth on her feet, her eyes roam around the room waiting for her requested payment and making Chris shake his head as he chuckles.
“I’ll give you cookies...”
Smile lighting up her face, she takes the piece of paper from his hands and instead gives it to you leaving you silent with mouth slightly agape. “Your turn mommy!”
“Let’s get this off of daddy’s face first then after I shower we can work on me,” you smile watching her reach for the silver handles of the facet before being placed on the counter by your husband. Slowly tip toeing to your phone, you return pressing record just in time to catch their cute exchange as your daughter dangles her feet back and forth.
“Now you look pretty forever and ever!”
“Forever and ever?! What magic did you use huh?,” he asks tickling her side. Zipping her lips, she shakes her head making her plaits wildly swing around.
“Nope, it’s a secret,” she giggles holding onto his hand and playing with the silver band on his finger.
The following morning, the Evans household started as usual these last couple months. Sunlight peaking through the curtains. Chris groaning as he begrudgingly gets up to use the bathroom leaving you lying in bed snuggling with the comforter until he would return taking its place. Taking over his side of the bed, you smiled to yourself waiting to hear his deep chuckle followed by the feeling of soft hands gently lifting your “sleeping” body and keeping you close to him while you both lied in comfortable silence.
Instead, you felt your arm being frantically shaken by your husband repeatedly beckoning you to wake up.
“Babe. Babe!”
“Hmm what’s wrong?,” you groggily ask rubbing your eyes to help you see clearer. Small red sploches dotting his face, you rise on your knees getting closer to his face making sure what you were seeing was in fact true. “What happened to your face?”
“I don’t know. I just noticed it when I went to the bathroom.”
“Does it itch?”
“A little. Do you think it was the mask?”
“Maybe, do you remember if she used anything else from my bag?” Shrugging his shoulders, there’s a momentary silence before his palm hits his forehead as he silently curses.
“Of course this happens on the day I’m supposed to talk with Jimmy Fallon.”
“Listen it’s okay, we’ll hopefully have you fixed before then. Just let me think of what could help.”
“Mommy! Da-yee!” As if on cue, Kira runs into your bedroom using the bench at the end of the bed to climb in and stand next to you. “Ooh I want face paint too!”
“It’s not face paint honey, daddy might’ve had a reaction to the mask from last night.”
“Reaction?,” she asks slightly tilting her head.
“Yea, like when you ate peaches that one day and your tongue was itchy and cheeks got puffy? That’s a reaction.”
“Ohh...I hurt da-yee?” Frowning with pouted lips, Chris picks her up smoothing the frizz from her hair as he kisses her temple.
“Noo no sweetie you didn’t hurt me. I promise I’m fine, my face just looks a little funny.”
“Mommy’s special tube didn’t work.”
“Special tube?,” you both inquire looking puzzled. Nodding her head, she nervously wrings her hands together afraid of your coming reactions.
“The white one.”
“Ohhh...”
“I’m guessing this white tube is what caused me to look like a Dalmatian with red spots?,” Chris asks slightly rocking Kira back and forth.
“Yea, it’s my acne gel. I call it my special tube because only I can use it sweetie,” you answer lightly rubbing her back.
“Ohh, sorry.”
“It’s okay, let’s not use it anymore though. Especially on daddy’s delicate skin.”
“Delicate?,” he asks raising an eyebrow in amusement making you laugh.
“Babe you even said so yourself that you have sensitive skin, don’t start,” you laugh stepping out of bed. “Now let me go get the rash cream.”
“Wait, rash cream?”
“You have a better idea?” Groaning as he rolls his eyes, Kira places her hands on either side of his beard before kissing his cheek.
“No worry da-yee, mommy can fix it.”
“I hope you’re right bae-yee,” he smiles blowing raspberries on her cheek making her wildly giggle.
———
“Okay first it was poor Dodger’s haircut now this?! What is going on in the Evan’s household during this quarantine?,” Jimmy asks trying to hide his laughter but failing.
Sat at the island in his kitchen, he chuckles to himself while shaking his head at his current predicament. Surprisingly the rash cream did help a bit, but the red spots were still evident on his face although a bit lighter in color.
Especially now currently being in the room with the best lighting.
“Well uh as you can see it’s been a bit eventful,” he laughs as he runs a hand through his brown locs. “Kira’s been watching her mom do her nighttime routine so now her favorite game to play is Spa. Long story short some things didn’t agree with my skin when we played yesterday.”
“Ohh noo,” he laughs covering his mouth with his hands. “Are you okay though? How did she react when she saw you?”
“Yea I’m fine. It was a bit itchy but now it’s starting to fade away, and at first she thought it was face paint, but after telling her what happened she felt bad because she thought she hurt me. So now she’s been checking on me and making sure I’m okay.”
“And speaking of, looks like she’s here to check on you now.” Turning around, he smiles seeing his little girl in her jean overalls raised on her tip toes trying to get a look at Chris. Waving her over, she nervously steps to her father before he sits her on his lap.
“Hi Kira! How are you?”
“Good,” she shyly replies playing with her braid.
You tried to keep her occupied during his time away with his interview, but your sneaky little one took advantage of your lapse of judgement when distracted by your phone. She said she was going to the bathroom and by the time you thought you should walk with her, you could hear feet scurrying down the hall towards the kitchen.
Catching the corner of his eye, you mouth “sorry” before he smiles mouthing back “it’s okay” and giving you a quick thumbs up.
“And how do you like being home with your parents this whole time?”
“I-I like it. We get to play a lot!,” she smiles making both men lightly chuckle.
“So your dad tells me you like to play a game called Spa. Is that something you’d want to do when you get older?” Nodding her head, she giggles looking up at her father as he kisses the top of her head.
“Well I already know you’ll do such a good job with your own spa one day from this video from a little birdie’s instagram.” As he plays the short clip of Chris and Kira talking in the bathroom while he washes off his mask, he meets your eyes shaking his head as you innocently shrug your shoulders as if you didn’t know anything.
“Hmm I wonder whose Instagram you got that from?”
“You know I can’t reveal my sources,” Jimmy laughs. “The adventures of being a girl dad though right?”
“Yea, and I wouldn’t change a thing about it,” Chris smiles holding onto his baby girl as she latches around his neck.
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|Got Me Loosin All My Cool| M|
Pairings: Jungkook X Reader | Jimin X Reader( Smut) FT- Side Tae & Yoongi
Note: Kook is in 80% of this but he’s “new” to the dynamic...so the smut is with Jimin and the OC...not Kookie!
About- Jimin and yourself take Jungkook shopping for a new suit to wear to the “Spectrum” launch party! OH, and Jimin fucks you in the backseat of your truck in the parking garage of the mall…..
OR: You know Kookie still in that “Broke college grad” phase only being with the company barley a month, and you don’t want him to feel self-conscious at the event! You’ve also been too busy to really check in with him to see how he’s adjusting! So, you thought something like this, in a more laxed atmosphere, would be a good solution! Oh and Jimin, honestly he’s just nosey as fuck and inched himself along, like nobody really invited him he invited his damn self! Also Jungook can’t underatand why the fuck your all so damn attractive...like...why!?
Jungkook’s a sweetheart and lowkey confused and whipped for everybody
Tae’s kinda being a spoiled asshole
Yoongi’s over it!
Jimin’s being a brat, he’s not use to having to “Behave” around others, espeically while your wearing “that” dress.....
-Song Reference- COOL- Dua lipa
WC: 6K
WARNINGS: Semi-public sex/Top OC/Power bottom Jimin/ Spit play/ Cum play/ Fingering (F receiving) Cockrings/Lube (yes ppl actually use that IRL )Dirty talk/ biting, finger sucking
FINAL NOTE: This little excerpt is the prequel to the next full-length one-shot “All Eyes On Me” which is Hoseoks official ‘Intro” if you will. The full Summary for that can be found in the Masterlist which is linked below! Also if you’re new here..this is a stand-alone one-shot within my OT7Poly AU called “7 Deep” Short version: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with!
(Sneak peek)
~~~~~~
ONXY ENTERTAINEMENT 10:45 AM
Jungkook’s happy I guess almost surprisingly so, I mean yeah Yoongi and yourself seemed cool in the interview, and when he did is work interview the vibe was chill. But let’s get real, we all know shit always seems better than it actually is in the interviews!
For one he honestly wasn’t expecting to be given such free reign already which is also why he’s happy as hell he didn’t listen to his roommate’s Mark and Ten and lie on his resume. Granted, everything still had to go through Yoongi first but he wasn’t just... I don’t know editing thumbnails like he thought he was actually doing real work. He’s been here barely a month and he already has reels he can add to his portfolio! Learning new tips and tricks, believe it or not, even through his internships he’s learned that some people are stingy when it comes to sharing knowledge. Yoongi however was far from that, thankfully he was well aware that just because you teach someone your “secrets” doesn’t mean you’re essentially replacing yourself! What makes you good at your job isn’t just how it’s done its how you do it!
If only Kookie could stop internally fangirling over Yoongi his life would be a little easier! He’d seen hundreds of your companies films before and being the production major he is..of course, he’d watch it the first time to jack off..then the second time he’d find himself just as if not even more turned on for the production quality. That’s something Onyx is always praised for..”Aesthetically pleasing porn”. Every morning, Yoongi would sit him down and show him something new and for the first time he finally understands what people mean when they say that someones mind is..attractive! Not Yoongi himself though, because that’s his boss and that would be weird but like his brain, ya know? Yoongi’s brian is sexy in a broboss way...I don’t know just go with it!
Anyway, Kook’s current project was actually one of his favorites so far because it was forcing him to actually challenge himself! This was something actually requested by Hoseok, who he learned was 26, the head of marketing, always bouncing around like he’s had 6 expresso shots and somehow manages to make streetwear look professional…. But anyway the task is creating trailers for films that are pc enough to not be blocked on platforms like IG but spicy enough to get ppl to wanna watch the full thing. Making a climax without the actual climax if you know what I mean. So he’d have to sit there and watch the films, try not to get hard and wanna jack off while watching said films...then take notes and screencaps of the best moments and compile them together without showing “too much”. He’s never been so thankful that he could wear sweatpants to work….because…..yeah it was hard..literally and figuratively hard...but like I said he’s happy and can pay his bills so that’s cool too!
Don’t get me wrong he still feels a little out of place at times and surprisingly enough not for the reason he expected! Two months shy of his 21st bday he assumed he’d feel a type of way because he’s the youngest but that’s not the case! Hell, they went to Nobu for lunch last week and Jin actually slid him his drunk so he wasn’t the only one not drinking! Flashing him a cheeky little wink and whispering “Don’t tell mom” in reference to you once Kook looked back at him like a deer in headlights! It seems as though they care more about his talent than his age which is the way it should be because he knows he’s good at what he dose!
However, Onyx is kinda like those offices you see on TV, the kind he never thought where real, behind closed doors the environment is far from pc! It’s not a normal morning unless somebodies cursing out there computers! This morning he swore Taehyung told Jimin he had a shrimp dick…… There’s “that’s what she said” jokes being thrown out left and right, people cracking jokes on one another. And it’s not that he feels uncomfortable by any means again he’s a 20 y/o kid from LA it’s just ...he’s new...ya know? So he doesn’t know if he’s “allowed” to do that! So in the meantime, he just spends his days laughing until his chest hurts!
But besides that everybody’s chill , he’s still trying to learn people, regardless of how laxed the office is everybody’s busy as all hell especially Namjoon and yourself! The two of you are actually his biggest mystery, he’s never thought of marriage being something that he’d want. He’s always heard that people change, and shit gets boring, but even in a work environment that’s far from the vibe he gets from the two of you! You actually make marriage seem exciting, worth it, like a gift, not a task…..
Something else that he can’t truly wrap his head around is that your his boss, like legitimately his boss! Somebody that looks like you,I mean fuck your not even 30, you sway around the office in your little dresses and designer heels! Always dolled up hell sometimes he questions if he’s the one in some upscale porno! Actually, not just you all of you why the fuck are all of you so effortlessly attractive and put together?! To make it even worse you all know your shit too! Two days ago for example Kook went to Yoongi to ask if there was a certain way he wanted the ending credits to come into frame, and instead of Yoongi responding you did! Using terminology that had him ready to run home and pull out his “Intro to production” text box! Shit don’t make any Goodman sense...even Yoongi sitting in his office looking like he could be in one of the films he’s editing and no, god no why is he thinking this about his higher-ups?! No, no, nope try again Jeon!
However, now that we’re on this topic, there is one person that he can’t quite wrap his head around...I mean yeah he’s nice but he just seems more reserved around Jungkook than everyone else. Which is odd considering he’s the one Kook meet first, he’s actually the one that encouraged him to even submit his resume, to begin with! What makes it even odder is Yoongi and yourself actually told him that Tae was the most outgoing...it’s not that Jungkook nessercally thinks Tae dislikes him it’s just ...I don’t know, I don’t know…I guess he was just...warmer when the two of them met at Starbucks then he is now that they actually work together!
...And I guess that’s why he almost shit himself when his phone rang and the incoming name rang though as….”Taehyung Kim”...he kinda hoped he pocket dialed him and would just hand up! But wait, I guess you can’t really do that from a landline can you?? Fuckkkkkk
“I know technologies come a long way Kook, but phones don’t answer themselves ya know…” Eyes fluttering over to see Yoongi smirking at him, tone blatantly amused as he flipped through a file he had in his hands.It’s like he could sense how nervous he is too “Don’t worry about Tae, he’s more bark than he is bite, he’s literally a puppy dressed in Gucci…” Flicking his chin in the direction of the phone with a reassuring smile.
With a timid nod and shaky fingers Jungkook picks up the call on the final ring “H-hello??”
“Jungkook? Can you come to my office in the next 5 or so minutes?” His tone wasn’t rude by any means but it also wasn’t the most inviting. Eyes fluttering overly timidly in Yoongis direction because he knew Tae was loud enough that the elder could hear and he smiled fondly, nodding in approval. Arms crossed firm against his chest, head cocked to the side, eyes squinting slightly from under his black baseball cap, as if he was now purposely trying to hear the conversation.
“Umm, yeah, yeah of course…” God, why does he sound like he’s still going through puberty right now!? Voice fluttering ina and out of an octave!
“Great!”
Tae just hangs up, no goodbye ...promoting Yoongi to roll his eyes, with an exasperated sigh...Jungkook just sits there for a moment, not too sure what to do!
“You’re free to go, Seok dosen’t need these until Friday and your deifiently far enough along, a little time away from your desk wont hurt! Oh, just save your stuff first though! The systems moving slow as fuck and I’m about ready to break my damn computer so I’ll probably do a system reboot while you’re gone!”
Jungkook nods timidly, swallowing so hard he’s sure Yoongi heard it, fingers scattering to do as Yoongis instructed, he literally feels like he’s going to throw up! Why does Tae make him so nervous? I mean no offense but Tae isn’t even his boss why is he more freaked out of Taehyung than is actual boss!
He hears a heavy sigh fall from behind him, as Yoongi invites himself to take a seat, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder ‘First off, you’re doing fucking great, and I mean that, so step back...and breath...” Squeezing his shoulder slightly, tone calm yet stable enough to ground the younger!
“Second, I’m ordering lunch from that coney up the street, Hyungs treat” He watches Jungkook go to open his mouth in protest and Yoongi just groans, loud and obnoxious, eyes fluttering to the back of his head more times than he can count!
“Don’t even try and give me that “Your not hungry bullshit” Eyes narrowing in the youngers direction challangingly “So let’s try this again, what do you want? And yes Tae can wait I already texted him and told him so you’re fine! Now go to google and pull up Leo’s menu and lets order lu-”
“Yonngggggiiiii!!!’ Whines through the studio, which only promps the man in question to slowly sink into his chair as if he was trying to make himself dissapear! And before Jungkook can even make heads or tails as to what’s happening...a pair of skin-tight leather pants, a florial silk shirt, that was sitting so low it mideswell not even be buttoned, flashy shades and windswept pastel pink hair comes strutting in... Looking like something straight out of Vouge so again he asks why the fuck does everybody look like this!?
Not even botherng to ask if he’s interupted anything, just flinging his arms around the production manager’s neck, propping his chin on top of his head,
“I need like...20 headshots edited...in the next half hour” Jungkook watched Yoongi go completely ridgit a scowl on his face as he tried to pull away but the casting manager only held on tigher “...and before you kill me even though I drunk some of it this Amerciano is for you soooo, I feel like I’ve made it worth or while, please and thank you! ” Smiling so big his eyes dispered into his face it took everything in him not to coo and swoon all at the same damn time!
Jimin fucking Park......
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Heyyyyyyyy,
That’s all she wrote for now, don’t know the post date yet, I’ve written up wo when they actually go to the mall so it’s like halfway done.....
MASTERLIST FOR THIS AU IS DOWN BELOW, I’M GLAD PEOPLE ARE ENYOING THIS “UNIVERSE”!
7 DEEP
#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook au#jimin#jimin smut#jimin x reader#jeon jungkook#park jimin#jimin au#bts#bts au#bts smut#yoongi#yoongi au#bts poly#bts poly au#kpop#kpop smut kpop au
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Decryption_Error: “Fourth of July, Part I”
Summary: As Y/N deals with the stress of transitioning into her new position, she also has to find time to ask Elliot a very important question.
Story Summary, “The Server Room, Part I”, “The Server Room, Part II” “The Long Weekend, Part I”, “The Long Weekend, Part II”, “The Aftermath”, “Undecided”, **“Decided”, “Spooked”
Word Count: 5500
Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel @hopplessdreamer @alottanothing @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @moon-stars-soul @free-rami @ramimedley
If you want added or I’ve missed your request, let me know : )
Warning: SMUT and a lot of it so NO under 18s
The next few workdays were a blur as I transitioned to CISTech’s General Manager. I worked long hours, learning the ins and outs of what Miles did on a daily basis. Like with most jobs, the higher you climbed, the less you actually worked within your field, which was going to be a struggle because I counted on the way analyzing trends kept my mind balanced. I took note after note until Miles banned me from writing anything else down.
“This is all sensitive material, Y/N. You have to be cautious and leaving 500 post-its lying around is a surefire way not to safeguard sensitive information.”
Despite my scowl, Miles held firm, so I stopped taking notes and stuck to paying more attention as I shadowed him.
The transition wasn’t made any easier by the impending Fourth of July weekend. Since theFourth fell on a Thursday, the office was closed on Friday, too. That meant the interviews for my replacement weren’t going to take place for at least another week or two.
And weighing the heaviest on my mind was not my new job or who my replacement would be, but that in the midst of the chaos of my promotion, I was running out of time to invite Elliot to my parents’ house in Greenwich.
What made my procrastination worse was that he was being so patient as I was barely able to see him for more than a minute or two when I passed through the cybersecurity office. Sticking with routine, if I hadn’t texted him by 7:00 pm, he’d text me to ask how I was, to ask if I needed anything, or to ask if I just wanted to talk for a bit. In short, he was being the perfect boyfriend, the very thing he thought he couldn’t possibly be.
The beginnings of relationships are always so fragile, but because Elliot and I were friends first, and because of the trust we had built after I helped him, I knew he and I would make it through this hectic transition.
However, I was not so sure if we would make it through me asking him to meet my family. I knew it was soon, but I was also sure of my feelings for Elliot—I had meant it when I decided I was going to be a constant in his life. He deserved to have someone who cared about him, and he deserved to move forward, to not be haunted by his past or by what he perceived to be his “abnormalities.”
Since it was the Monday before the Fourth, carving out a quiet moment with Elliot became a non-negotiable. I cleared my lunch hour and told my new secretary I was going to be out of the building.
When I appeared at Elliot’s desk, I almost scared him out of his skin. His fingers stumbled over the keys of his computer and he yanked out his earbuds. I had learned long ago that Elliot didn’t actually listen to music at work—he just put in his earbuds so no one would talk to him.
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” I said, a smile playing with the corner of my mouth at his wide, surprised expression. “Do you have time for a quick lunch?”
More than a few eyes in the office were watching us with a mild curiosity. Word got out pretty fast about our meeting with HR, but I figured most people weren’t willing to believe Elliot and I were an actual couple. At least until they saw it for themselves.
“Uh, yeah. Sure,” Elliot said, closing out his windows and turning off his monitor.
As I watched his fingers move, I couldn’t help but to think back to what his hands felt like on my skin. And when I raked my eyes over his arms and up to his face, I couldn’t help but remember what his stubbled jaw had felt like under my fingertips as I pulled him in for that goodbye kiss—
“Is everything okay?” Elliot asked, his eyes searching my face, trying to figure out what I was thinking.
“Yeah, of course,” I said with an awkward smile as I looked down and adjusted my bag.
When Elliot stood up and slid his phone into the front pocket of his trousers, my eyes followed the movement, and I shook my head and turned around before an actual blush could appear on my face.
My body missed him.
I missed him.
We rode down the elevator in silence, standing just close enough that I could feel the fabric of his muted blue dress shirt glancing over the skin of my arm. Never had I wanted to hit the stop button on the elevator and just kiss someone senseless more than I did in that moment.
Elliot followed me out of the elevator and across the lobby. Again, neither of us spoke as we navigated the busy streets of Wall Street at lunch time, the silence between us just as loud as the bustle of taxis and cars.
“Is this good?” I asked, stopping outside of a mid-size Chinese restaurant we had ordered take-out from a few times.
“Sure.”
After we were seated and the waitress took our drink orders, I started talking in a stream-of-conscious ramble.
“I know this isn’t the ideal place or time or whatever to talk to you about this, but I’m running out of time considering I wasn’t expecting to get a promotion of all fucking things on top of a new relationship and it’s the Monday before the Fourth and I know this is last minute, especially for you, but it really can’t wait any longer.”
Elliot looked down as he muttered, “Okay,” before I started rambling again.
“My parents are having a get together over the Fourth of July, and they would really love it if you’d come. They’re eager to meet you and I’m eager for you to meet them. And by gathering I mean just my family—my mom, dad, sisters, and brother and their significant others. Oh, and my sister’s kids, of course, although I’m not really a very good aunt because I see them like three times a year.”
Elliot just stared at me, so I continued.
“I know it’s . . . a lot, but I wanted to tell you now, well, I wanted to tell you last week but time got away from me and I know you like to think about stuff, but I’m trying to give you some time to think about this because it is really important to me—don’t answer me now. Just think about it. Or ask any questions you have as you think about them. So, yeah. Think about it?”
“Are you ready to order?” the waitress asked, startling both of us from my one-sided conversation.
We ordered, me falling back on my staple of chow mein, and Elliot ordering his go-to, sesame chicken.
As soon as the waitress left, Elliot took a deep breath.
“I thought you were breaking up with me.”
I snorted, an absolutely unsophisticated honking of a laugh, which caused Elliot to half-smile.
“Well, in that case, is my actual reason for asking you to lunch better or worse?”
“Do I have to answer that right now?”
I smiled, relieved that Elliot hadn’t bolted, but saddened he still thought our relationship was so tenuous—the exact opposite of what I thought it was.
Elliot’s hands moved to circle around his glass.
“I miss you,” he said with a low voice, barely even a murmur, as his eyes watched the condensation on the glass.
I slowly reached across the table to lightly touch his finger. He moved it away from the glass and I slid my finger along his, my eyes slipping shut at the contact.
“Tonight. Stay over?”
I opened my eyes to find Elliot looking at me as I asked him to stay, and he gave me that small smile I loved so much.
“Okay.”
* * * * *
In a mimic of our first night together, the instant Elliot shut my apartment door behind him, I was on him, pressing him against the door, molding my body to his. Lunch had passed in fragments of idle conversation because we both knew the other was thinking about this.
When I pulled back from my kiss hello, he was right there, so present, in front of me with his grey eyes looking at me like I held some sort of secret he had been searching the world over for.
“Can we go slow tonight?” Elliot asked, his eyes holding mine as his hands rested lightly on my waist.
“Of course. Whatever you want,” I said gently.
“I want to be good for you,” Elliot clarified.
“Oh—” I said, a little surprised at his directness. “I want to be good for you, too. You’re not the only one who thinks about those things.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Elliot’s muscles relaxed and he tightened his grip on my waist.
“Come on,” I said, my breath ghosting across his lips.
“Wait,” Elliot said, his eyes slipping shut as he moved forward and kissed me.
His lips stayed pressed against mine for a long moment before they began to move. Elliot’s tongue softly swiped between my lips and I opened instantly, welcoming him to deepen the kiss and set the pace he wanted.
The kiss was slow as Elliot explored my mouth, his tongue moving so languidly that my body reacted, a gentle warmth of arousal building slowly within me.
He closed the kiss as softly as it began, and I opened my eyes to watch as he lazily opened his. I smiled softly and took his hand to lead him down the hallway to my room.
When I released him to pull down my comforter and to turn on some music, Elliot stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, shuffling before uncrossing, then crossing his arms again.
“Relax. We’ve already done this,” I said with a chuckle as I scrolled through my playlists.
“Not like this. This is—” Elliot trailed off as he uncrossed his arms again.
I hit play and music began to emit from my speaker, not loud enough to be distracting, but loud enough to disrupt any uncomfortable silence.
“More intimate?” I questioned, fishing for what was really bothering him.
“What if we don’t work?”
I blinked, taken aback.
“We already worked. I mean, I worked just fine and I think you did, too?”
“Not physically. In all the other ways? What if we don’t work?”
I took a deep breath, and said, “This is about this weekend.”
Elliot sort of deflated as he walked to my bed and sat down, his feet just touching the floor because of my high bedframe.
“I’ve never met someone’s parents before.”
“It’s not as intimidating as you’re imagining it to be. Everyone will be there, so it won’t feel like the focus is on you. I want them all to know you, to see how smart you are. To see how kind you are. To see the way you look at me.”
Elliot looked up and gave me just the sort of look I knew my mother would notice.
“Like that,” I chuckled. “Full of affection.”
“Am I that easy to read?”
I snorted.
“God no. It’s just that sometimes, some part of you wears your heart on your sleeve. I like those moments so much. Those moments when you’re really here, really present. Whatever bothers you—depression, or your anxieties—it’s all far away.”
“Because you make me forget,” Elliot said to the floor.
“Forget what?” I asked slowly, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer.
Elliot ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands for a second.
“Forget what it’s like to be lonely.”
My heart fluttered at the tenderness of his sad words.
“You don’t ever have to feel like that again. I’m not going anywhere. Actually, we technically just signed a contract, remember?” I said, trying to get a little laugh out of him.
Elliot smiled softly, “If only it were that easy to make sure you stayed.”
“Boy. We’ve got loads of emotional baggage to unpack, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Elliot said, his voice barely concealing bitterness.
“All the more reason to meet my family. You can see that no family is ‘normal,’ especially not mine.”
Elliot looked up again, his voice a perfect monotone as he asked, “Are you really sure you want this—you want me so visibly in your life?”
“Elliot. We slept together once, I asked you to be my boyfriend, and then I went straight to HR to disclose. If that wasn’t a telling set of actions, I really don’t know how else to prove to you I’m really fucking sure I want to be with you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. Show me.”
His hands gripped the edge of the mattress as he lifted his head to squarely look at me. Elliot was characteristically quiet before finally replying, “Okay—I’ll meet them. I’ll spend the weekend with your family.”
With a sharp intake of breath, I bit my lip in an attempt to hide my grin. This was a big step, and I hadn’t been sure Elliot would take it.
I crossed the room and nudged my way between his legs. He reached up and wrapped his arms around my hips, pulling me in so he could hug me, his head pressing into my chest.
I ran my hand through his hair, gently scratching along his scalp and mussing his styled-straight strands. Once Elliot released me from his grip, I took a step back so I could kneel in front of him.
He was watching me with wide eyes as I began to untie his black dress shoe. I pulled it off, then untied the other one. I slowly reached my hands under and up his dark grey trousers, feeling for the edges of his black socks. When I found them, I curled my fingers in and pulled both of them off. His toes flexed as he reached to steady himself on the floor. I ran my fingers over the tops of his feet to see if he was ticklish, but he didn’t react. I smiled because I wasn’t at all surprised that Elliot Alderson wasn’t ticklish.
I ran my hands up the back of his calves and around his knees to slide across the tops of his thighs. I braced myself and stood, my hands sliding to his hips as I leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.
“Is this okay?” I whispered against his lips.
“Yes,” Elliot breathed.
I unbuckled his belt and opened his pants before moving my hands to his dress shirt. Starting from the bottom, I worked my way up, opening each button. Before I slid his shirt off, I stopped to kiss along his jaw, working my way to behind his ear. As I sucked, just a little, Elliot’s hand shot out to grip at my hip.
I pulled back and slid his shirt off, tugging before I realized I hadn’t unbuttoned his cuffs. I made quick work of those buttons, pulled off the dress shirt, and dropped it to the floor.
As I reached for the hem of his black t-shirt, I looked at him, his cheeks tinged with color and his lips parted. Elliot was always so beautiful in moments like this with his edges softened and his eagerness to be loved becoming almost tangible.
He straightened and lifted his arms as I pulled the worn fabric away from his body.
I delighted in the fact that Elliot was now mine to look at for as long as I pleased. We’d come a long way from my stolen glances in the bathroom as I tended his cuts and bruises.
“Uh?” Elliot mumbled quizzically, his hands back to grasping at the edge of the bed.
“I’m allowed to look at you as much as I want,” I said, my eyes half-lidded and with a smirk on my lips.
Elliot blinked up at me, and I smiled before I took pity on him and gave him something to do.
“Scoot back. Relax.”
He complied, and I reached to pull off his trousers, kicking them to the side so I could stand between his now dangling legs. He was perched on his elbows, watching me as I slid my nails up and down his bare thighs, loving the feeling of the thick, curly hair on his legs.
I toyed with the edges of his black boxer-briefs, sliding my fingers underneath the edges, creeping up until the fabric began to bunch.
Elliot’s cock was hard, outlined perfectly beneath his underwear, and I licked my lips before I looked up at him.
“Talk to me this time. Tell me what you like. What you want.”
And I flicked my eyes back to his underwear as I removed my hands from under them and reached to pull the waistband down. Elliot quickly lifted his hips, and I once again let my eyes rake over his body, now totally bared to me.
I didn’t look for long because his hips and his stomach were just too tempting, damn near begging to be tasted.
I bent over him, resting comfortably with my thighs pressing into the edge of the bed, and after sweeping my hair to one side, I licked a long stripe over the indentation of Elliot’s hip bone. I repeated my ministration on the other side of his body, then slowly began to kiss my way across his lower abdomen.
When I reached the dark strip of hair that extended down his stomach, I slowly licked my way up the trail, moving further and further from his cock, which was gorgeously swollen and nearly ready to leak.
Elliot’s fingers scrambled against my waist as he tugged on my shirt.
“Tell me what you want,” I said as I pressed soft kisses around his chest.
“Take off your shirt,” Elliot demanded.
A small grunt of pleasure escaped me at the way his voice rumbled through his chest, his command clear, almost confident.
I straightened and quickly pulled off my blouse. My fingers dipped under my bra straps and I stopped, looking at Elliot with a raised brow.
He nodded his head, and I slid off the straps then reached back to unclasp my bra. I ran my hands over my breasts, more out of the delight of finally being free from my bra than in an attempt to look sexy.
But Elliot definitely found my action alluring because he reached down to wrap a hand over his cock, squeezing just enough so that a drop of precum slid out and onto his thumb.
I could not have held back my moan at seeing him touch himself even if my life had depended on it.
“I—” Elliot’s voice faltered and he bit his lip.
“Tell me. Tell me what you need,” I said quietly as I leaned forward again, knowing what he wanted but needing to hear him say it.
“Your mouth. Please. I want your mouth,” he said as he gave himself one more squeeze before removing his hand and laying back on the bed.
I reached out to grip his hips on either side as I flattened my tongue and licked him from base to tip. Elliot’s body gave a little shudder, and I slid my tongue through his slit, tasting him for the first time. I hummed with pleasure and placed small kisses along his cock as I whispered, “I need to hear you, El. Don’t hold it in.”
And then I took him in my mouth, engulfing his hardness and taking him as deep as I was able.
Elliot groaned out a long, “Fuuuck.”
I removed one hand from his hip and wrapped it around the base of his cock. I worked him with my mouth, slowly, not wanting anything to end too soon and honestly, just enjoying the taste of him. I felt his fingers brush at my hair before lightly settling on my head.
I could feel Elliot’s body building to his release, and I reached down to lightly run my fingers over the smooth, tight skin of his testicles.
He groaned again before he breathed out, “Stop—stop.”
I let him go and pulled back, but Elliot was already moving, pulling me onto the bed with him.
“I want you,” he said, pushing me back and moving between my legs, reaching down to undo the clasp on my trousers, fumbling a bit before it popped open.
I helped him slide me out of my pants and my underwear, and I pointed to my nightstand’s drawer. He reached over and pulled out a condom, opening it and rolling it on. I watched and let my legs fall open in gesture of welcome.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his eyes scanning my face.
“God yes,” I said, pulling him on top of me.
Elliot’s eyes slid closed and he kissed me as he positioned himself and entered me. We both gasped into the kiss and Elliot’s hands found my arms, sliding down to my wrists so he could pull them above my head.
He fucked me like that, slowly and sensually, his body rubbing against mine and creating the most delicious friction as I chased my release.
I was so excited by him, and Elliot was surrounding me, overwhelming me—the taste of him in my mouth, the weight of his body on mine, his eyes watching my face until they slid shut with pleasure, his fingers pressing into my wrists, and his cock driving into me.
It didn’t take long before I was flushed and panting, my head thrown back and my mouth open as I ground into him, my aching clit finally giving way to my hard orgasm that rushed through my body, electrifying my skin and pulling out of my mouth a series of praises to god and to Elliot and maybe even to his cock.
And somewhere inbetween my praises and my moans, Elliot let go, his hips slamming into me before slowing as his orgasm sweept over him, his groans and his mumble of my name against my neck so much more subdued than my earlier outburst, but the deep rumble of his voice with a slight crack as he praised me caused another impossible shiver of pleasure to spiral through me.
Too soon, Elliot untangled himself and sat up to pull the condom off. He tossed it in the trash on the other side of the nightstand and flopped back onto the bed, his chest rising and falling, a slight sheen of sweat glistening between his muscles.
“I was supposed to learn what you liked.”
“I liked that,” I said, smiling and reaching over to trace a finger down the dark trail of hair on his abdomen.
“I’m serious,” Elliot said as he rolled over to face me. “I want to be good for you.”
“Alright—is it my turn now?”
Elliot made a strangled noise of surprise as he struggled to answer, and I laughed out loud.
“I’m teasing,” I said, still laughing. “We aren’t 17.”
And, as if in agreeance with my statement, a yawn escaped, which made Elliot chuckle and hide his face in his pillow. He looked over again, sheepishly.
“I’m not the one yawning,” he said, his voice dripping with snark.
I giggled and opened my mouth in mock-offense.
“No need for the snark, Mr. Alderson.”
“Mmm,” Elliot mumbled as he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against him. I rolled over and settled in next to him, enjoying the feeling of him holding me. I wondered if he could fall asleep like that, but I didn’t find out that night because as soon as my eyes shut, I was dead to the world.
And when I woke up, it was to Elliot pressing light kisses along my bicep, over my shoulder, and against the base of my neck.
“I … like . . . this,” I mumbled, sleep still clinging to my voice.
“Yeah?” he asked as he continued to press featherlight kisses over my skin.
I rolled onto my back to give him better access and Elliot took full advantage, sliding on top of me and settling between my thighs.
He continued to kiss all along my jaw and down my neck, lightly sucking and licking as he made his way to my breasts. He teased my nipples and my body’s response to him was almost shamefully open; my nipples hardened, and my skin prickled with goosebumps. I wanted to rub my thighs together to seek out some contact, but Elliot was in the way, his strong hand holding my hip in place.
“Tell me what you want,” Elliot growled out against my stomach.
His words were an exact echo of mine from last night, and my eyes slipped shut as I reached above my head and squirmed against him.
“Your fingers—touch me, please.”
The weight of Elliot lifted, and I knew he was looking at me, his eyes raking over my wet heat, but I kept my eyes shut tight, wanting to feel everything he was willing to give.
Soon, I felt a tentative finger sliding over my mound and between my lips. My legs fell further apart and I grasped onto the slats of the headboard. Elliot was taking his time, watching my reactions and memorizing them.
He gently slid his finger from my clit to my folds, circling my inner lips before sliding in one long digit, and twisting to seek out the bundle of nerves hidden inside of me.
I hummed with pleasure and unlike Elliot, there was no hesitancy in my request.
“I want your mouth.”
I heard him suck in a shaky breath as the bed moved, and I shivered as Elliot’s hands pushed my thighs even further apart. When his tongue slid between my folds, the moan that escaped my lips was low and filthy.
I knew I was so wet and a part of me felt bad he was going to be covered in the evidence of my arousal, but when I opened my eyes and saw Elliot’s head between my thighs, I damn near came on the spot.
His hair was a mess. His thick fingers were digging into the flesh of my thighs, holding them open, one of them still glistening from being inside of me. And his eyes, dark in the grey light of the morning, were open, locked on mine as he closed his lips over my clit and sucked.
My thighs tried to snap shut but those hands held me open. Elliot relieved some of the pressure and began gently licking at my clit, but it was too late.
I came, hard and fast, my hands gripping the wood of the headboard so tight I was afraid it would snap.
I growled in frustration and wiggled away from Elliot.
“Fuck me,” I said turning over and positioning myself on my hands and knees.
“Y/N,” Elliot moaned, reaching for the nightstand again and rolling on another condom.
There was no pause this time because there was no need to ask if I was ready. There was only the feeling of Elliot sliding his cock into my aching, tight center.
My arms trembled as we fucked, Elliot setting the brutal pace I requested with every “harder” and “faster” muttered.
His hands that were gripping my hips let go to squeeze the flesh of my ass; his groans punctured the air between my moans and my chorus of yesses.
“Fuck, Y/N,” Elliot panted. “I’m going to come.”
“Not yet, not yet,” I begged.
Elliot made a noncommittal noise and pulled at my hips, forcing my arms to buckle so he could push me down into the mattress. He ground against me, and I felt his head rest between my shoulder blades before he pushed up a little on my hip, and that was it—
My second orgasm washed over me in an echo of the one from last night. It was pulsating and slow, warming me and making my heart pound against my chest.
I could feel Elliot’s own heart hammering, and once again, I missed his actual orgasm because I was busy riding my own out.
“So…was that good?” Elliot asked, his voice nothing more than a rasp.
“Shut the fuck up,” I said, breathless and grinning as I wiggled out from under him. “I need a cold shower.”
And maybe even better than all my orgasms combined was the sound of Elliot’s laughter as I made my way to the bathroom.
* * * * *
“Elliot,” I said, rummaging through the black duffle bag on his mattress. “It’s going to be 98 degrees tomorrow. You don’t own a pair of shorts?”
“I don’t like the way they feel.”
“Alright—how about swim trunks?”
“I—don’t swim.”
“Don’t? or Can’t?”
Elliot thought it over for a moment.
“Don’t.”
“Well, that’s a big part of what we do. Swim, kayak, hang out on the beach. You’re going to have to compromise a little.”
“I could just stay here.”
“Don’t you sass me—you told me you’d go.”
“I’m not sassing.”
“Yes, you are,” I said as I tossed another black t-shirt back in his bag and flung myself onto my back, exasperated.
“You’ve gotta work with me a little…just a little.”
“But this is a lot. I don’t think you realize how much this is,” Elliot mumbled, his hands on his hips as he looked around his apartment.
I sat up on my elbows and looked at him. The purple under his eyes was back and it was obvious he was feeling overwhelmed.
“Come here,” I said patting the mattress and sliding into a sitting position, pushing a pillow between my back and the wall.
Elliot frowned, but complied. He sat down on the edge of the bed, too far out of my reach to touch him. It was difficult to be with someone who could be so loving, so open, and then not want you to touch them, but I kept reminding myself that this was new for him and it was new for me. Not every day would be like the night we spent together on Monday.
“I know you’re feeling overwhelmed. Talk to me about it.”
After a minute or so, Elliot began to talk, a quiet murmur in his trademark monotone.
“I have no idea what it’s like to be with a normal family. Mine wasn’t. At least it wasn’t normal with any consistency. All I have, when I do remember, are normal fragments mixed in with all the fucked up shit. I think—I think it was more normal before he died. I remember going to the movies. I used to talk to him all the time, especially when he’d pick me up from school and take me to work with him. After…after he was gone, Darlene was the only sort of normal I had and,” Elliot broke off with a huff of a laugh. “And Darlene isn’t exactly what anyone would describe as normal.”
“Elliot—is that all you see when you look at me? Normal?”
“No,” he said glancing at me. “It’s just hard to look around that sometimes.”
“Maybe this weekend will show you that you’re more normal than you think—we talked about this. Normal is subjective.”
“It is, but I can promise you my childhood is not anyone’s version of normal. I’m not anyone’s version of normal.”
“But you’re my version of perfect,” I said, smiling widely at Elliot, and enjoying the look of shock on his face.
“Don’t—”
“I love being with you, El. Now who can’t take a compliment?”
“I’m not perfect,” Elliot said slowly, as if I were a child.
“Perfect is subjective—”
“No. The literal definition is “free from flaws, without defects.”
“Sure—for the verb. The adjective, however, states that perfect is having all the required desirable elements, in other words, something being as good as it is possible to be. Sounds subjective to me…and sounds like I’m free to say that you, Elliot Alderson, are perfect for me.”
Elliot’s sigh let me know he wasn’t going to protest, and I said, “Come here.”
He tried to hide his small smile but failed as he scooted closer and sat next to me. I turned my body toward him and reached up to slide my hand along his jaw to cup his face. I turned his head toward me and his eyes, so alert in this moment but still dark in the dim lighting of the apartment, focused on me.
We stayed like that for a long moment until I broke our eye contact as I leaned in, my eyes sliding shut when my lips found his. This kiss was slow and sweet, lips on lips, until I felt Elliot’s tongue ghost along my lower lip.
When I pulled back, I rested my forehead against Elliot’s.
“I’m buying you some swim trunks,” I said, causing Elliot to chuckle, his breath a cool huff across my wet lips.
“Fine.”
#elliot alderson x reader#Elliot Alderson#elliot x reader#female reader#elliot alderson fanfic#mr. robot#mr robot fanfiction#rami malek#rami malek character
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momma › jackson wang
↳ babysitting jackson wang’s daughter was not the first option on your list of summer jobs, but it pays well, and how can you complain when you get to see his face every day?
↳ singledad!jackson, fluff
↳ wc: 3,733
Babysitting was not first on my list of potential summer jobs, but “struggling artist” wasn’t paying rent, and my parents were growing tired of my increasing demands, so I had to look elsewhere. Between my list of potential options, including part-time waitress or grocer, Jackson Wang paid the most. I could take care of his two year old throughout the week, he could go to work with peace of mind, and in the evenings I could continue commissioning off my paintings for less than they were worth. Everybody won.
My first obstacle was the tedious interview process. At first, he called over phone to ask the more basic information of his potential applicants. Name, age, previous experience. I would’ve bet I was the oldest of everyone, and with three younger siblings, I hoped for a slight advantage, but I knew nothing of anyone else vying for the job, so I relied on my crossed fingers for luck.
The second step of the process included meeting Jackson in person. A renewed sense of hope flooded my veins when he gave me the follow-up call and explained that he’d like to meet me, but the pressure of knowing he was to meet with four other girls did nothing to salve my nerves. Neither did the caffeine in the coffee I ordered when we met. For many of his questions, I had to gather myself. Why did I want the position? What was I studying in school? I blushed peach when I had to answer that I was an art major. No one ever took that one seriously, but Jackson nodded anyway, and after forty-five minutes—had it really been that long?—he thanked me for my time with a smile.
The third and final step, which came down to me and an eighteen-year-old high school senior, was meeting his daughter, Meilin, the true judge. I met the two of them in a park near his home, Jackson still in his work clothes and Meilin dressed head-to-toe in pink floral. Apparently she picked the outfit herself. The shoes I wore had a flower print, too, one I designed, and this fact pleased her so much I got the job without saying much else. I felt almost guilty. The other candidate may have had every qualification for taking care of a toddler, but two-year-olds cared not for credentials. Evidently, they cared very much for cool shoes. Some things are learned young.
My second obstacle was trying not to fall in love with Jackson.
An obstacle much more difficult than my first, despite how little I saw him after the interview process. Every morning I showed up at 7:30, and upon my arrival he handed me a twenty dollar bill for lunch (which I never spent in its entirety and tried to return at the end of the day, but he always declined), told me any play dates or birthday parties I had to attend, and grabbed his briefcase before heading out the door. When he returned at 4:30, he handed me my daily pay, thanked me, and I returned to my apartment. Our paths barely overlapped.
Still, I dwelled on our meet-up for coffee a number of times. Had he spent so long with the other girls? Maybe he related more to me since I was the oldest, but surely we had little in common other than both being in our twenties. He was a successful single dad, and I had neither success nor children, just an in-progress art degree and an atelier that was just a closet I cleared out for my paintings. Stains covered my carpet even after the immense effort of cleaning, whereas every surface of Jackson’s house was glossy and unmarred. Even if I wanted to have a conversation with him again, I had no idea where to begin.
Until a month into the job, when upon Meilin was playing dress up for the umpteenth time and Jackson called.
“Hello?” I answered, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder so that I could continue to applaud Meilin as she twirled in circles and fell back into her chair.
“Oh, thank goodness,” he sighed, breath heavy like he was in pursuit of something. “Can I ask you a favor? I’m caught up at work and need you to watch Meilin for a few more hours. I’ll give you some extra money for dinner and pay you overtime hours.”
“Daddy!” Meilin exclaimed upon hearing his voice, climbing up onto my lap and making grabby hands at my phone
“Hello, honey,” he hummed, like the sound of her voice renewed him after hours of office work.
“Don’t worry about the dinner money. I didn’t spend any for lunch earlier. What time do you think you’ll be back?”
“I’ll try to be back by 7:30. Thank you for this. How’s Meilin?”
“Daddy!” she repeated in a similar squeal as earlier, hardly fazed by her father’s news.
“I think she’s holding up. She was in the middle of her debut fashion show, so you ought to be glad she’s not a diva and made time between changes to talk to you,” I tsked, earning a laugh from him, the sound curling around my heart and constricting.
“Tell her I appreciate it very much,” he said, “and thank you. Again. Seriously.”
“It’s no problem. Seriously,” I mocked him, and he hung up in haste. At the loss of her father’s voice, Meilin grabbed the phone out of my hand, looking between me and the device, perplexed.
“Where daddy?” she wondered, turning the phone upside down and flipping it over and over. “Daddy home?”
“Not yet. Daddy’s working late, so you get to spend more time with me!” I threw my hands in the air, and she copied the action with a grin on her face, arms high above her head in the most excited display the world had ever seen.
“Momma!” she giggled.
I lowered my arms with the sudden shock of my title. Usually she called me my name, or various incoherent versions of it, but “momma” was new, and definitely not close to my real name. “Oh, goodness. Uh...no, not momma,” I stuttered.
“Momma! Dress up!” she pulled her princess dress over her head, throwing it down and running into her closet for what I could only imagine would be another dress.
Her newfound favorite manner of addressing me continued through the rest of the evening. Even when I took her to a nearby restaurant and cut up her chicken nuggets with a fork, feeding her one tiny piece at a time, she persisted.
“Yum Yum. Here, momma,” she’d say, picking up a piece and shoving it towards my face. A couple passersby even complimented me on how cute my daughter was, only setting her off more.
I realized I had no idea what happened to Meilin’s mother. Had Jackson been married, or was Meilin perhaps the result of a brief fling? Had her mother died? Abandoned them? I hadn’t considered the possibilities before, but they weighed on my anxious mind as the next few hours passed.
She ran into Jackson’s arms when he returned, oblivious to how late he had gotten off work. “Good evening, hon. What’d you guys do today?”
“Play dress up! With momma!” She clapped her hands, at which Jackson’s eyes widened and landed on me.
“I tried to tell her I’m not momma, but she kept calling me momma and I didn’t know what to do, and then people at the restaurant kept saying I had a cute daughter, and...I’m sorry,” I blurted out all in one breath, afraid the subject might strike a chord.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. No harm done,” he chuckled, setting his daughter down. She scuttled along into the living room to play with some toys while he pulled out a wad of money, counting out double what he usually paid me in a day even though I had only done three hours overtime. “I really appreciate you taking care of her, you know? She goes on about you all the time, most of which I can’t understand, but what I do understand is good. She still loves your shoes.”
I wore the same pair every day, and now I looked down at them with redness flooding my face. “It’s nothing, really. She’s great. She makes me laugh more than most people my age.”
Jackson slipped the cash into my hand, smiling gently at me. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Do you mind me asking something else?” I added, almost against my own will, but the question had been beating me down all day, and I had to know.
“Go ahead,” he prompted, sliding the jacket of his three-piece suit over his broad shoulders and folding it over one arm.
“Where is her mother?”
“Oh. She doesn’t have one,” he said with a little shrug. Just like that. So nonchalant. I glanced around me for the presence of, perhaps, hidden cameras. Was he messing with me?
“She...left?” I asked in a low whisper, desperately trying not to offend him.
He shook his head at me in amusement, pulling out a stool from the kitchen island and taking a seat. “Meilin has a mother, biologically, but she was a surrogate. I...really wanted to have a baby, so I found someone and after some legal work and nine months of waiting, Meilin was born. I guess a lot of the children’s books we read mention mommies and daddies, and she knew who daddy was, so you must’ve been the closest resemblance to mommy to her.”
“Huh,” I said. Of all answers, I didn’t expect that one, but it was one of the better ones. “I’m glad, then. I was worried her mom passed away or that there was a divorce.”
“No, nothing like that,” he said, “but you’re sweet for being worried.”
I was blushing scarlet now, no longer able to hide it. He was only a few years older than me, but him having his life so put together made me feel like putty in front of him, and the “sweet” rolling off his tongue made me feel like I was stuck in sugary goo.
“I guess I should get going, then,” I said. “See you on Monday, Mr. Wang.”
“Jackson,” he corrected me. “I’m not that much older than you.”
“Most people don’t call their employer by their first name,” I pointed out. Being on a first-name basis with him was too informal, too intimate. “And we’re not friends or anything. Not to be rude, but—”
“No, I understand,” he nodded, eyes travelling to his daughter. This was usually her bedtime, and she wasn’t playing with her toys with the same energy as earlier. “Give me a moment to put her in bed, would you? I’d like to talk for a few more minutes.”
“Uh, sure.” I wasn’t sure if he was going to fire me or somehow promote me or what, but I sat at the kitchen island as he carried Meilin to her room, her cheek pressed to his shoulder.
“Night, momma.” She waved, and after spending the day denying it, I conceded and waved back, blush still covering my cheeks. I hoped it didn’t secretly bother Jackson.
He was gone maybe five minutes, and the house doesn’t make a sound. I was used to the constant thudding of feet, of pint-sized chaos roaming the halls, but the space was at a standstill and I had to busy myself by picking up the stray toys left on the living room floor.
“Oh, please—no, no, don’t worry,” Jackson said when he found me cleaning up, touching a hand to my elbow so that I stood. There was a doll in my hands but he took it and tossed it into the nearby basket of toys he kept in the living room. “You’ve done enough today.”
“Sorry. Force of habit, I guess.” I folded my hands together to steady myself. Being alone with him was as nerve-wracking now as it was during the interview process. “What did you want to talk about?”
He nodded towards the kitchen, where I returned to my previous seat. I shook my head no when he offered a glass of wine. I’d have to drive home soon, but he proceeded to pour himself a glass and sat down. He always struck me as more of a rum guy—not that I had spent my time thinking about what he liked to drink. Well, not too much time.
“I don’t know that this arrangement is going to work much longer,” Jackson said, reaching across the table to cover one of my hands with his. My skin froze at the proposition.
“Mr. Wang—Jackson, please,” I sputtered in a half-thought out attempt to save my job. Not seeing Meilin or him again? Asking my parents for more money? The thought made my heart lurch. “I adore your daughter, and I need this job because I don’t make near enough from painting to sustain myself. If you’re mad that she’s calling me her mother, I’m sorry, and I’ll try to take care of it, but I can’t lose this position.”
He took a sip from his glass, swirling a finger around the rim. “Earlier, you said we weren’t friends, and it made me think of how I don’t want to be your friend.”
“Ouch.”
He smirked a little, tired from a long day of work but still thinking me amusing nonetheless. “Let me finish. I don’t want to be friends with you, but that’s not because I’m your boss. Hell, I don’t want to be your boss, either. I want to take you out sometime—to an art museum or a play downtown or for another cup of coffee with a different context. Even with what little I see of you, I think about you all the time, and I just…”
Jackson’s voice faded out, words lost to him. I’d never been very good at words, either, hence why I pursued artistry instead of English, but I turned my hand over and slipped his fingers through mine. It felt like a good place to start, despite how much my hands were shaking. “I don’t...really want to be your friend either. Or your employee. Ever since we first met for coffee, I’ve had the stupidest middle school crush.”
“As long as we’re coming clean, I knew after our first meeting that I wanted you to be the one to watch Meilin. I had only met with the other girls for fifteen minutes, maybe, but we talked for how long? An hour? When she ended up choosing you, I was happier than it made sense to be.”
“What if she hadn’t?” I implored, hoping he would indulge me.
He rubbed the back of his neck, contemplative and maybe a little nervous, too, a side of him I decided that I liked. “I...might’ve asked you out sooner, actually, or I might’ve talked myself out of the idea, thinking you’d say no. I guess we don’t have to find out.”
“And I’m glad it was me. Meilin is the highlight of my summer.” I smiled at the thought of her round cheeks and moony eyes staring up at me but remembered a moment later that I do need the job. “Listen Mr. — Jackson.”
“Mr. Jackson,” he interrupted, chuckling.
“Shut up,” I scoffed. “This is serious. I need money somehow, and if I’m not watching Meilin, I’m out of luck.”
“Then let me help you with some of your art. I’ll buy a few pieces off of you for however much you need or want for them—just enough to give you a jumpstart and afford rent while you look for another job,” he suggested.
“I want to date you, not for you to be my sugar daddy.”
“I’m not—” he started, but he must’ve seen where I was coming from because he stops short. A pinkish blush started to show on his cheeks. Finally, I wasn’t the only one.
I didn’t want to date him as long as I was making money from him. My parents taught me not to mix work and personal life, and hooking up with my boss sounded too scandalous for my taste.
“Give me time to find another job. It’ll take a few weeks, maybe, but then I’ll quit and we can go on a date. Until then, we should keep things professional.” I realized my hand was still in his, and I slipped my fingers away and held them in my lap.
He was silent for a while, and from the way his eyes flitted all over me, he didn’t seem to want to wait. He’d probably take me out right then if he could, and if he asked, I wasn’t sure I had the willpower to tell him no, despite the front I tried to keep from crumbling. “Can I give a suggestion, then?”
“What is it?”
“Wait here,” he said, running upstairs where I knew he had another bedroom and an office, along with other rooms I had yet to step foot in.
He returned soon after, pressing three business cards into my palm. I filed through, brows furrowed, to see that they were art exhibit coordinators, critics, buyers. Alternatively, all the people I needed to impress.
“Where did you get these?”
“I’ve been to a few showcases in my day. I’m not entirely ignorant to the world of art, and I never turn down a business card. You never know when you might need someone you thought you wouldn’t.”
My mouth hung open, entirely ungraceful and no doubt making me look like a fool in front of him. Then, I shook my head. “It still seems like too much of you to—”
“I’m only giving you their cards. You don’t even have to tell them you know me, just that you’re looking for work. If they hate your paintings, they won’t hire you, and if they love them, that has nothing to do with me and everything to do with your talent.”
I tried to refute him. It still didn’t seem fair, but he had a point, and maybe it was selfish of me but I wanted a date with him soon, and I wanted the validation of someone in the community telling me that I had what it took to make a living from my art. Was that too much to ask?
“Im Jaebum selects artists to showcase at the art gallery each month. He has a soft spot for young artists just trying to find a way in, and if he really likes you, he’ll showcase you more than once. BamBam runs a section of a popular magazine— focused on art, obviously, and he kind of does what Jaebum does: spotlights an artist or two each edition, gets their name published. You never know who might see your name and reach out. Park Jinyoung is the hardest of them to please, but he’s more constructive than harsh, and you’re in great shape if he likes you. He’s a buyer, too, and pays more than I ever could. He’ll tell his friends about you, too, if you want to commission work.”
“I don’t...I don’t know what to say,” I stuttered, the cards heavy in my hands with the prospect of chances they might hold, doors they might open. “Thank you, Jackson. Really, I—”
“You can thank me once you book your first showcase. I’d love to be your plus one.”
“Oh? And who said you would be my plus one?” I teased, but it was taking every ounce of my composure not to throw my arms around him and kiss him silly.
“Call it my wishful thinking,” he said. “And until then, you can keep taking care of Meilin, and our relationship can remain strictly professional.”
Right. I had suggested that. So much for kissing him silly. “Yeah. Yes, of course.” I nodded. I’d be sad not to see Meilin every day, but if all went well, I’d continue to see her often.
Jackson looked into the bottom of his wine glass, almost empty, and after a couple beats of silence said, “I’ve probably kept you long enough tonight. I’m sure you’d like to get home.”
You can keep me as long as you want, I thought, snapping back when I caught his eyes on mine. “I’m...yeah. I should be on my way.” We both stood, his movements a mirror of mine. He walked me to the door a few times before, usually while counting my payment, but he had already given me my cash.
“Thank you again for staying late to watch her,” he said while I slipped my shoes on, grabbing my belongings.
“Don’t mention it. Seriously, I’d do it any day.” I waved a dismissive hand at him.
He opened the door. I grabbed my keys. Both of us lingered in the threshold, like he was waiting for me to say something, or like I was waiting for him to. The porch lights set his face aglow, warm evening honey.
“Goodnight, then,” he said slowly, like such basic words were a struggle for him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Yeah, goodnight.” I took one step, reconsidered, and looked back at him. “Jackson?”
“Yes?” He hadn’t moved, but his eyes widened with some combination of hope and curiosity.
“I’m having this problem where I really want to kiss my boss, but we agreed to keep things strictly professional for the time being, and I was wondering what you think I should do.”
“Hm,” he considered, and I prayed he wouldn’t tell me just to go home. I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye again. “Do you think he wants to kiss you too?”
My breath hitched. “I hope so.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, the smallest ripple I barely noticed. He was enjoying himself so, so much. “Only one way to find out.”
I hesitated, momentarily afraid of stepping into a trap, but without any semblance of patience, he was reaching for my waist. My fingers found the pulse of his neck and his lips found mine in the lamplit dark. My second obstacle had been trying not to fall in love with Jackson, and I was failing miserably.
#this is..laMe as heck nfdjsjsjdj#got7 imagines#got7 fluff#got7 scenarios#got7 drabbles#got7 oneshot#got7 au#got7 jackson#jackson wang#jackson wang imagines#kpop imagines#kpop fluff#kpop scenarios#kpop au#kpop oneshot#kpop drabbles#got7 jackson wang#kpop fanfiction#got7 fanfiction#got7
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Loki Baby Pt 5
… Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - ...
Wk 19 -- “…I left it in my room…”
… @sdavid09, @theincaprincess, ...
Through the line giggles filled the room Scott and his little girl were playing and joking around for a few moments before the father answered, “Scott here.”
Tony smirked answering, “Scott, Tony Stark here, got a job for you and that suit of yours.”
“Um,” he said glancing at his girl moving onto putting together some snacks, “Tony, I don’t know about that, last time in Germany-,”
“This is not about that, trust me, this will not have any federal repercussions. It is entirely domestic, child play really for a pro like you.”
Scott’s brows furrowed and he leaned against the doorframe asking, “If it is so simple then why me?”
“Because the target hates me and I need an alibi.”
His lips pursed for a moment then he asked, “This is not an approval, but, what am I supposed to be after?”
Tony, “I need you to break in and take this pen,”
Scott laughed out loud, “A pen?!”
Tony, “It looks like a pen, but it isn’t, and I need you to get it so I can test it and find out what it is exactly.”
With a tilt of his head Scott’s lip curled for a moment and he turned to grin and wave at his daughter and said, “Send me the details, I’ll scope it out.”
“Good, fifteen grand in it for you when you deliver the pen.” Scott had to hold back his giddy laugh and sharing of the deal until the following morning when he went in to work in handing off his little girl for the weekend trip to an amusement park out in Florida.
.
Off to his job he raced and through the door he stepped with arms out saying, “None of you are going to guess who just hired me for a job today.”
Kurt, “Bruce Springsteen.”
Dave turned to look at him with a momentarily scrunched face, “Man, no way is Bruce Springsteen even on our radar.” Looking to Scott he said, “Ugh,” he said snapping his fingers, “What is that guys name?” Again he snapped then pointed at Scott, “Guy Fierri!”
Kurt, “Who is Guy Fierri?”
Dave, “He’s that tv chef with blonde spiked hair and that dark goatee. My lady’s got me hooked on these cooking shows, and-,”
Kurt, “Oh, yes I saw that Kitchen Rescue show. Cannot get enough.”
Luis turned in his chair after having untangled his chair from the phone and internet cable looking over the trio as Scot waved his hands, “Guys! No!”
Dave sighed leaning back in his chair faking interest in the change of subject, “Fine Scott, who did hire you?”
“Tony Stark!” He replied quickly receiving a room full of blinks. “Guys, ok, I know what you’re thinking, after the Germany thing, though this time, this time entirely domestic and so simple!”
Kurt, “What, he wants to have us install security system in one of his offices?”
Dave, “Nah man, he’s got his own grid, why would he go about hiring us?”
Scott bounced on his feet in a momentary crouch, “He wants me to steal a pen!” Brows rose and he added, “For fifteen grand! Though it’s not really a pen he thinks it just looks like a pen and he wants me to get it so he can check it out.”
Kurt’s eyes narrowed, “Is it pen gun?”
Scott’s eyes turned to Dave as he said, “Ooh, one of those poison dart pens? Saw one of those in a spy film once.”
Kurt, “Can’t be a grapple hook pen, completely illogical.”
Dave, “From that Johnny English film, yes!” turning to Scott he asked, “Why you?”
Scott looked between them then said, “Apparently he’s hated by the person with the pen and needs an alibi.”
Luis climbed out of his chair to join the others as Kurt asked, “Who’s the target? Some mastermind villain?”
Scott glanced at his phone rereading the message with all the info in it, “Some lady named Jaqi Pear.”
Luis, “Woah, woah, woah! Back that bus up you are not telling me that you accepted a job to rob one of the sweetest ladies on this planet, not counting my Grandma and your little girl. Cuz man, if you did I gotta judge our friendship a bit closer for your motives on that spectrum siding with Stark against the sweetest lady on the planet!”
The whole speech fired out rapidly and nearly had Scott reeling before he replied, “How do you know her? I’ve never heard of her.”
Kurt, “Pear? Like the fruit Pear?”
Scott nodded and Dave waved his hand and clicked his tongue, “Man, you mean you accepted a job from the woman who backed our company loan?!”
Scott, “Wait, what?! No, I though Master Industries backed us.”
Kurt, “Master, founded by a Miss Pear, the leading security and technology company in this country with resources even Stark cannot touch.”
Scott haltingly replied, “I, did, not, know that…”
Luis crossed his arms, “So, what does this Stark assume the sweetest lady on the planet ever could possibly be up to with this pen?”
Scott shrugged, “I don’t know man, he just said he wanted the pen.” Looking his friend over he asked, “Wait, how does one of the biggest tech and security companies take the time and money to invest in our band of misfits?”
Luis clicked his tongue, “Man, that goes way back to my Mom, when she was fresh out of high school,” with a grin he pointed at himself, “She just had me, and she needed place to get a job, and she heard from these guys on the street corner while waiting for the bus that this ‘dragon lady’ had spent half an hour railing them on their credentials and kicked them to the curb. Well, moms was straight up impressed, cuz these guys were in like top of the line suits with those really shiney shoes, one of ‘em wearing their Harvard pin on their tie. So she goes, ‘Hey, any chicka crazy enough to send these money bags off to the curb has got my interest.’ So she goes three blocks over skipping an interview for a maids job over to this just glass wrapped building thinking ‘Worst comes to worst I can shine the hell out of these windows and floors have this chicka working in a bomb office!’”
The guys nodded and Luis wet his lips saying, “So she goes right past the doorman, who for his nice suit didn’t say a thing bout her bringing me with her, and she strolled right up to the desk saying, ‘I came to see Miss Pear.’ Again no comment form the man behind the counter, kind of shifty in her mind at first, cuz they should have said something cuz she wasn’t really at the top of her game that day, her curling iron died and had to head out in last night’s makeup after a colicky night with me. But she gets told ‘go to the elevator’ so she does and up we go. Right in the line of suit clad guys Mom just sat her self down and waited for the line to go through, each time seeing a guy, who’s like a twin to the guy downstairs, only he’s got a red shirt on, who looked like the guy at the door, so she’s figuring maybe they’re all related somehow?”
Scott nodded, “Makes sense.”
Luis nodded and continued, “Right so surprisingly half an hour later the guy comes out again after the last guy looks at the list and turns around saying, ‘We have an unnamed applicant.’ And my Moms hears this honey dipped angelic voice say, ‘Show them in.’ She gets up, little bit wobbly, cuz, again, not top of her game, but she draws it in and struts right in, just working the confidence and sits right down across from this just top notch woman. Sleek green dress leaned back in her leather chair just working her figure, with long curled ponytail laying over her chest and just this stunning smile though it wasn’t till she leaned forward and that’s when she saw it.”
Dave, “The pen?”
Luis, “What? No! Her eyes! Bright purple! Shook my Moms hand and asked her her name and how do you do’s and all that then she got to the big question, ‘What brings you in today?’ and Moms just busted out with her hearing about those guys and her just knowing that this would be the right place for her and said that she’d be grateful for even a cleaning job.”
Kurt, “So she got the job?”
Luis smiled wider, “Miss Pear gave her an assistant job,” parting their lips, “I know right! Ya, took a chance on my Moms, and she just nailed it right out of the park. Sure she’s a bit,” his teeth flashed in a tilt of his raised hands, “Low key immortal but all around-,”
Scott, “Wait, what?”
Dave, “Did you say immortal?”
Luis, “See, she’s older than I am, cuz clearly I was a baby at the interview, but Mom said it wasn’t that big of a deal cuz Gran met her once and said there was nothing shady there, ‘sometimes there’s just those that are sent down to bless’ and that’s what she did. Cuz for 25 years she employed my Moms and even helped to get me a better lawyer to take up my appeal case pro bono and then after I got out insisted she take time off and see a specialist for that lump she had on her neck. Turned out it was cancer, and even when the company insurance refused to pay Miss Pear paid for everything, even the driver service to get her to each appointment and when my Moms passed she got top of the line everything down the line.
And of course I felt a bit bad you know, my growing up in the office and then taking that wrong legal turn that maybe I shouldn’t go there, but we had such a great idea and I knew that she would understand my idea and that if there was a problem with the pitch she would help me fix it, so I called the number and she says just drop by. Right in my Moms old chair is my second cousin in law Trish, who just sent me right in saying she cleared her morning for me. We caught all up and she wanted to hear all about how I’ve been doing and cleaning up after getting out and then I showed her the plans and how the banks refused the loan applications and asked how I could fluff it up for the business world.
All she does is do what she always did to seal the deal, lean her way back in that chair, still one bomb chicka after all these years and she dials the phone and makes a call, says ‘Charles, I’m sending someone over, give it to him.’ Then looks over to me when she hangs up ‘Just head over to Brumson Bank head straight up to Charles’ desk and tell him I sent you.’ And,” Excitedly he mimed a bomb exploding, “Boom! We got our loan!” his grin dropped and he said to Scott, “Now tell me you didn’t take a job to rob the sweetest lady on the planet?”
Scott felt his stomach drop a foot lower in hearing how this woman had changed his best friend’s life and his own by backing their company and he rubbed the back of his neck, “Um, I mean, it’s just a pen.”
Dave pursed his lips for a moment then asked, “Maybe, you could just talk to her? Maybe explain the situation, she might let you take a picture of the pen or something.”
Kurt nodded, “Yes, any woman that kind may be understanding.”
Luis pulled out his phone saying, “I’m gonna give you her address and send her a message you’re dropping by her office, and you better clear this up!” Luis typed on his screen and then said, “She’s shopping right now but she’ll be in her office in an hour. She will see you then.”
Scott nodded and said, “Cool, cool…” his lips pursed a moment and he said, “Wonder why Stark said she hates him.”
*
Waffles filled the air of your apartment that Loki let himself into after an otter opened the door for him and closed it behind him. The usually alluring scent you gave off was nearly doubled making his fingers clench around the sleeves of his sweater as his slippers tapped silently across the carpet in your warm living room making his flannel pants seeming all the more cozy nearly driving him to curl up on one of your couches for some more sleep. A striking glimpse of you however halted him in his tracks, fully done up and dressed to the nines, but groggily pacing in a stunning aura of something he could only explain as ‘snuggle up with me’ you finished setting out the various clearly freshly made fruit jams and spreads for the waffles, cinnamon raisin bread and muffins you had made.
A brush of your curled bangs that fell into your face from behind your ear clearly from the mess of curls pulled up into a messy bun on top of your head. In passing the island to fetch the juice for you, and milk for the tea brewing he caught sight of the short shorts in yellow under your grey baggy t shirt, tall socks pulled up to your knee in moose slippers had him wetting his lips and moving closer. Turning your head you spotted him and even in your clearly drowsy expression he forced a grin onto his face reminding himself to breathe. You were stunning with makeup and now he had seen you untouched, sleep wrinkles and indents from pillows still pressed into your cheek. Though the thing overpowering him was the scent wafting off you.
“Morning.” He forced out and you grinned back turning to fetch the whistling kettle.
“I have tea, and so many things.” You said turning granting him a change to exhale and let his hand rest on the counter blinking through the surge of hormones racing through his body before burying that behind another grin. “Um, it’s all on the table, help yourself, be right there.”
He nodded and turned trying not to shake from the powerful waves crashing through his body urging him to close the distance between you. Into his seat he lowered and filled his plate with his eyes drifting back up to you, he was never one to be lost to the throws of lust and very rarely found himself even pretending he was sexually attracted to anyone. Yet his eyes locked on you and wouldn’t leave the longer he stared at you sending his blood pumping causing his left arm to drop to his waist to manage the visual issues of this sudden pull to you. Managing a cool tone he asked, “Did you sleep well?”
In a half turn holding the kettle your hand was raised smoothing around the back of your earring untangling a strand of hair from it as you answered, “Sort of, got woken up by this call-.” In a sudden lift of your gaze your fingers stroked along the skin under your ear not feeling the strip of pheromone blocker you normally added when you had company. The absence of which fully explaining the bright red eyes of Loki locked on you, the enhanced pheromones you inherited from your father mingled with your Time Lord genes only worsening your attraction abilities on others and even more so when you were ovulating, shaking your head you carried the kettle over and poured out into your mugs set out. His chest rising in his deep inhale as you drew closer to his side, “Just some work thing.” You set the kettle down on the cooling mat on the table and said, “I forgot something, …I left it in my room…right back,”
Turning to cross the floor to your stairs you felt his gaze following you as you mentally berated yourself. Blinking his eyes Loki felt the wave drop all at once in him after you crossed the first rug and the scents of the meal you had made leaving him absolutely puzzled for what had just happened. True he knew the most of Frost Giants and their home but nothing of their physical, or chemical makeup through their lives. They had no study on it. True his mother had done what she could to learn enough to help him through what he had assumed to be his only flash of puberty when he was younger, but this had never happened to him before.
Thor sure enough like other Asgardian males had gone through a flash of heat where he had to be managed to keep from populating a kingdom of his own like other males sent off to traditional secondary planets far from any females in their own wave of hormone fueled misery instantly evening out when separated from the other gender. Loki saw this, from a bystander’s view, feeling none of the agitation or rage at not being able to breed to their fullest potential, his came three years later and lasted twice as long spurring on a special job from his mother to hide this from others. But even that was nothing like this, instant on and off again instantly making him hope that this was not true and he would not be putting you in any danger by being around you through this. He would never hurt you or force you in any way but with your size difference and his clear silver tongue mastery of persuasion no doubt it could be left to you having no choice in the matter of sleeping with him surely ruining things if he could not control this.
Down again you came and thankfully his below the waist situation had calmed enough he could sit up straight and flash you a grin slightly uncertain of the much more diluted excitement in seeing you again somehow troubling him more than the initial surge of attraction. As if now he ached in missing the unhelped attraction he could not dream of fighting, though he could never dream of wishing to have that for anyone but you for an even more puzzling truth settling in his mind worrying him as to why. Flashing a grin of your own you felt the circular patch fading into your skin beneath your ear radiating your pheromones into an aura of green apples around you, a simple solution to a problem your parents had showed you how to make on your own when you were younger for this very reason.
Into your seat you lowered and Loki looked you over with eyes narrowing for a moment at the scent of apples washing over him in your tending to your morning tea you raised for a sip to test how much honey to add to it. “Forgive me, but, did you put on perfume?”
Lowering your mug you wet your lips, watching his eyes trailing after your tongue, actions like that only worsening your pheromone problem as your attraction to the one affected by it only made your body give off more pheromones to drown the poor creature in them. He was clearly still feeling some effects of that initial hormonal draw to you, “No, it um,” your brows furrowed and you decided to tell a tiny white lie. “I’ve been working on my power cells lately, a new mechanism for it exactly, and recently I’ve noticed my pheromones just bursting out. I made some patches for it to block that, I forgot to put it on. Sorry about that, didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
Exhaling sharply he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t relieved in your explanation, yet meanwhile disappointed it wasn’t something genuine for and from you sank in and he had to force his grin to remain in place until his mind flashed back to your flinching from staring at him in changing his shirt followed clearly by your stating that you did find him attractive. Bite by bite he felt his reminders that this was merely financial slipping away, with his hormones and attachment building in his urge to people please this was a losing battle he would hold no regrets over losing.
He had sworn to himself not to lose control and get attached but that damn calming innocence you exuded just lulled him right into the trap and that wave of hormones had him trying to steal glances to find that patch you had mentioned to see how simple it might be to brush against you and remove it to see what would happen. Before he knew it the meal was through and he was back in his closet staring at his clothes trying to choose which clothes to wear simple enough for your trip to the market for his pantry and basic supplies. Keeping it simple he chose a pale orange shirt he tucked into his black pants he pulled on with his boots tied on after. At his mirror he inhaled fixing his sleeves looking himself over only to shake his head at the thought on what to do to make you more attracted to him. Or rather which features you were attracted to helping you to choose him over someone like Thor.
Turning away he wet his lips heading back to the stairs to meet you in the hall, down he trotted hurrying to meet you hoping he hadn’t taken too long. With the door between you he paused smoothing his hand over his chest ensuring his shirt was smooth over his chest and stomach before opening the door to find the hall empty. Lowly he mumbled, “I cannot have taken too long..”
Your doorknob turned however and he stepped out using his key on the ring he had been palming to lock the door behind him then turned to grin at you looking over the jeans and blouse you were wearing with a flash of mint green from your heeled boots helping to get you to his shoulder. A click behind you and a grin eased across your pink painted lips. Back to your dolled up appearance his chest ached, already missing the intimacy of seeing the face and curls you kept to yourself. True makeup made little change as you used little of it to accent your eyes and lips but still nothing could touch the stunning shift of you in your most comfortable setting calling to his own urge to remain lounging in a book filled nook all day. That was his new daydream, hiding the day away with you reading or being read to as one of you lounged against the other, a perfect day filled with cuddling and stolen naps between sharing words of wonder and longing.
A compliment was given and sheepish chuckles were traded in the turn for the stairs down to the waiting car, it was a short drive but still you needed the trunk to transfer everything inside. Four steps in a stretch of his index finger looped around your pinky finger and the connection held for the trot down to the first floor. It seemed so simple, just a finger hold but a welcome invitation for a hand to hold was too much to pass up on. Another part of his dissolving line between the fantasy of this all and whatever it truly was. Settling into the car however the hold broke only to have his hand mold around the top of yours when it rested between your thighs, his thumb tenderly tracing pathways across the backs of your knuckles.
Turning his head he asked, “How long do we have?”
With a smirk you replied easing out his grin, “As long as you like, whole day’s clear.”
Locked in place his hand remained on yours even in the slide out of the car, which he used to help steady you to your feet and shifted to retain in the stroll to the front entrance. His spare hand used to guide the cart he tugged free from the corral and even a his eyes scanned the store he asked, “Where should we start?”
“Um, we could start with soaps and such if you like? Usually I leave frozen and refrigerated items to last.”
“Good plan, soaps and such it is.”
Each and every aisle he went down collecting a supply of possible necessities keeping up the conversation you had started and always claimed your hand again after each step away to inspect or fetch something new. The food half was next and from basics to comfort food and snacks came next, though lost between two chip flavors his head turned slightly seeing you draw your phone out of your purse after it’s buzz and chime. In a full glance your way as you read the message he asked, “Work calling?”
‘Miss Pear, I was wondering if you might be able to meet up with my best friend sometime. Seems he’s got himself in a bit of a jam and needs someone to talk to.’
To yourself you let out a hmm in confusion and raised your gaze to Loki, “Friend of a former assistant of mine wants to talk to me about something.”
Hastily you typed back, ‘Tell them we can meet in an hour at my office.’
“You need to go now?”
Shaking your head you replied with a grin, “No, said I’d meet them in an hour.” His lips parted then closed and he nodded making you move closer and loop your arm in his making him grin, “Don’t look like that I’m not abandoning you. Plenty of time for you to pick a bag of crisps and finish the aisles. The otters will make easy work of the bags.” Looking at the bags he was stuck between you asked, “Ridges or barbecue?”
“I know I would care for one in one occasion but the other in different occasions.” Turning his head his gaze lowered to yours at the resting of your cheek against his arm while the thumb on your free hand traced a muscle in his bicep, “I suppose I could choose both, however the question is how long the bags would last.”
“If you mean freshness usually they last a few days before growing stale, though usually they are a bit addictive, even I can get through a majority of a bag before I’ve realized it.”
Loki nodded, “I shall pick both then, I rarely have gotten to try them, the team usually rushed in snatching them away.” He said claiming two flavors he added to the cart before eyeing the other flavors, “I suppose I could try a new pair a week. There are so many to choose from.”
“Sounds like a plan.” You said as he guided you along hoping you would stay draped against and around his arm for as long as possible. Through the line you did up to the car where you helped him fill the trunk and grinned to yourself when his hand melted around yours again. Inside the car again he looked to you in a subtle scoot closer to you and wet his lips before asking, “Any plans after your meeting?”
Turning your head you caught a flinch of his eyes over your face as you drew in a breath to keep your pulse slow noticing he’d moved closer again making your eyes flinch to his lips for a moment, “Just heading back. I doubt it would take long,”
Taking the words out of your mouth he asked, “Up for a film after?”
“Sure, give you a chance to break into those chips of yours.” Back home again into the garage you went and in a sea of floating otters with their arms full of bags you rode the lift up to his apartment he unlocked and chuckled in following the adorable floating otters to his kitchen to put everything away. Stealing a glance at you he flashed you a grin as you said, “I should pop off. I will see you after, and be careful they tend to alphabetize everything, while the one with spots tends to sort things by color.”
Loki couldn’t help but chuckle, “I will monitor the situation, thank you.” His eyes followed you in your path out of the apartment down to your car again.
Down the steps you trotted asking, “What could this possibly be?”
Pt 6
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i’m going to do a stream of conscious about my week under a read more
it’s been a very difficult week emotionally. i’ve been extremely unhappy with my living situation (not at the people in particular? it’s one of those, i need my alone time and my own space and i’m so not getting it at the moment) and that’s taking a huge toll on me. plus it affects my current job a lot.
i’ve had a couple job interviews the last few weeks. haven’t gotten a second interview for either, and that’s been pretty discouraging.
i have like.... $20 to my name rn for a week and that’s super stressful for me. i’m not even exaggerating, i have literally no other funds coming in, no savings to steal from to feel a little more comfortable. that’s it. i’m very fortunate that my bills have been paid and i don’t have to worry about that for a bit. but it’s still a very stressful thing for as i have been very careful with my bank account balance since i was like 19 and over drafted my account a few times and had to ask my mom for money. i hate asking her for money bc she already does a lot for me.
my parents are really serious about moving and selling our current house, which i think i’ve discussed here. i haven’t lived anywhere but this house since i was 5. that’s almost 20 years... and they’re looking to move out end of january next year. so like in 2 months. and i really really want my own living space, but i uh obvi can’t afford it even with hella budgeting. my current job pays very little. anyway.
i’m still job hunting. fingers crossed something comes my way. but i’m not sure i want to move right away once i get a full time, good paying position. bc daphne. she’s super used to me being home all the time. and when i’m not home i either take her with me or i’m gone for a few hours at most and someone else is home with her like my parents both of whom she loves immensely. so i need her to get used to me not being around 24/7 when i get a job outside of my home.
then we’re moving houses. that’ll be a big change on her too. all of the houses we have looked at and will look at this weekend have giant backyards which is great bc that’s something she’s used to.
so i wanna give her some time to adjust to that first before i throw her into a new environment, especially bc it looks like all i’d be able to afford is an apartment. she’s lived in an apartment before with her previous human, but she was a puppy then so that was a while ago. i think she’ll be okay in an apartment. i just don’t want to throw her through the change of me not being home all the time in an unfamiliar place. i wanna take things slowly and at different steps, letting her get used to the idea that i may be gone all day, but i’ll always come back at night and my parents and brother will still be around for her to feel comfortable.
on the bright side tho, i have been feeling a lot better physically. walking has been easier and manageable. i can usually stay awake all day. i can’t always stay upright all day, but i have been mostly awake during the day with little to no napping. that has been really great tbh.
tonight, i went to my little brother’s football game at a park that allows dogs, so i brought daphne along and she really enjoyed that. she got to meet a couple other dogs and humans and she did pretty well. halloween, she didn’t do very well with other dogs or humans when i sat with her outside in our front yard to hand out candy. so i put her inside, which she didn’t super like. she whined the whole time and stared at me through the windows. so i was a little surprised she did so well tonight. and now she’s spread out across my bed, sleeping.
i honestly love her so much. she has brought so much joy and love and light to my life. she is my baby and she has my family’s hearts wrapped around her paw.
but yeah.
also another good thing bc i don’t want this to be me just complaining. i have been writing my single dad!stiles fic and y’all... i haven’t felt this way about my writing in a long time, but this story is really coming together and i’m really enjoying writing it. it’s a lot of fun. i’m really proud of how it’s turning out like i look back at what i wrote and think, “this is actually good”
i’ve showed it to a couple of incredible friends who have given me such helpful feedback and i can’t wait to share it with the world. i’m still sticking to i want to finish it before posting it. and finishing it means also doing a couple rounds of editing which i literally never do. not with fanfic. but i want this story to be as good as it can be bc it has a lot of potential for me. plus it’s a fun project. i’m remembering that writing is a fun activity for me and not tedious or boring or just straight up not a good time, bro. so finding my joy in writing again has been really, really good.
but okay i’m done now. if anyone read through this all, i commend you and i love you. i also love the people who didn’t make it this far, but they don’t get to know that important info (;
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Elastic Heart - Part 3 (Branjie) - Mia Ugly
A/N: Soooo this chapter took a turn for the sad-bastardish, but I swear there will be less moodiness and more kissing in the future. Also I’m trying to use she/her pronouns in Drag Race, and he/him out of drag, but sometimes it all goes to hell, bear with me! Thanks to everyone who’s been so sweet about this fic so far.
Social media -
Is not Brock’s strength area.
Detox used to hassle him about it before he even went on Drag Race, and he made a promise to himself that he would do a better job after. Tell the world when he - ate a bowl of cereal or whatever.
Post photos of his cats at the very least.
So when his manager comes to him with the expectation that he and Jose play up their relationship for the fans, Brock says: (nonononononononononono)
He says “fine.”
Jose’s in, apparently, and - well, Brock can only take that information second-hand because the two of them haven’t really. Spoken. Recently.
He says “fine” and then he goes on Jose’s Instagram and almost has a panic attack (because some people are so pretty it is unfair, some people are basically built to break your heart - from atoms to molecules to cells.
Jose in sweats and snapbacks.
Vanessa in gloss and feathers.
Each one feels like a hand around Brock’s throat.)
So.
After about thirty minutes in the fetal position, Brock leaves it all in his manager’s hands (or whoever his manager is paying for social media these days.) Someone adds flirty comments and cute photos to anything Jose posts, someone keeps the fans happy.
Brock doesn’t need to see it.
It’s too soon (too much, too real) for him.
He tries to avoid Instagram; Twitter is about all he can handle (he knows his mom follows him and he doesn’t want to make her worry.) He doesn’t read any of the speculative articles about their relationship, but he is always extremely polite when he’s asked about it (just flirty enough to give the fans hope. Professional, friendly, not too fond. It’s a fine line, and he worries sometimes that his feelings rise a bit close to the surface. That the people who know him best are going to watch one of these interviews, peer through the ice at his blue skin and see everything.)
Friends keep texting him. Leaving him voicemails, asking him how he’s doing. Brock ignores the ones he can, and responds whenever anyone seems a bit too concerned. Gotta make sure the outside world stays outside.
Clearly it’s all going to come out by the time the finale airs, and that’s just something Brock will have to be ready for. Maybe he can do a European tour. Or an Antarctic one. They don’t have internet there, do they?
He’s wonderful, I love him, he says on ET Canada as if that doesn’t mean anything, as if it isn’t the first time he’s said ‘I love him’ out loud.
Brock keeps working (because he’s still a force of nature, even without a crown.) He does shows across the mid-West, hosts club nights, dances the house down because he is a queen, damn it. He goes on tour with the First Wives Fight Club, let’s Ginger Minj distract him with the most offensive jokes Brock’s ever heard (and it’s good to feel outrage rather than longing, for a change. It’s good to do something different, something that’s not related to Drag Race and soft-skinned Puerto Ricans who won’t answer his calls.)
Or probably won’t.
Because Brock hasn’t called.
It’s shady and pathetic and each day feels like pulling teeth out, but he’s trying to respect the boundaries Jose put up. They said their piece at the reunion before Brock died of blunt force trauma to the chest (it’s fine, he’s fine) and he’s not the kind of person to push someone to take him back.
To beg someone to want him.
He can’t say if it’s pride or fear that stops him every time he gets shit-faced and picks up his phone. He can’t count the number of texts he’s written and then deleted. And then re-written.
The night after the First Wives show in Vancouver, the other queens go out to whatever local club hasn’t been closed yet, and Brock goes for a run on the beach. It’s dark out, and after a couple of miles he stops, stretches, and sits cross-legged in the sand.
The ocean reaches out for him, black-fingered and impetuous, dotted with the twinkling lights of oil tankers.
Brock hasn’t had anything to drink. There’s really no excuse when he takes his phone out of his pocket, scrolls to Jose’s number.
His thumb hovers over the keys, thinking thinking (over-thinking).
(I’m on the West coast and I’m miserable without you and I want to hear you laugh again even if it’s at me even if it’s mean I want to hear your voice and you killed it on Jimmy Kimmel and I’m losing my mind I think you’re incredible I think you’re hilarious and brilliant and I miss you I miss youImiss -)
“Damn it,” Brock hisses, because he’s smarter than this. He’s stronger than this (he wants that to be true.)
“I’ll be at Drag Con,” he texts before he can think too much about it. “Hope i see u.”
He waits. He’ll probably delete it without sending. He should delete it without sending because Jose doesn’t want to talk to him.
His thumb sits on the ‘Send’ key, barely touching it. It’s such a pointless, empty message. It doesn’t say any of the things he wants to say.
This was easy once. Talking to Jose was like breathing. What the fuck happened? (He knows what happened, and he resists the urge to throw his phone into the sea.)
After a few seconds, Brock deletes the message and puts his phone down.
Then he picks it back up.
He bites the inside of his cheek, a habit he mostly gave up in middle school.
This was easy once.
(“When this is all over –“
“Oh Jesus, oh Mary, there she goes.” Vanjie at her station, rummaging through yards of tulle. “You wanna shack up or something? Get cats, turn me into a proper wifey?”
“Well. I was thinking more like buy you dinner.” Brooke doesn’t touch her, because the world is watching. Still - her eyes linger on the bones of Vanjie’s hands, her wrists, her jaw. There is not a part of her body that doesn’t beg for contact, not a part of her that Brooke doesn’t want to touch.
“Ha, okay. But I’m a classy ho. It’s gotta be Olive Garden at least, get me some unlimited breadsticks.”
There’s a faint blush on her cheekbones even though she’s rolling her eyes, and it makes Brooke love her even more than –
Shit.
Shit.
She did not just think that word.
They aren’t - there yet. Brooke’s tired and stressed and her brain is clearly short-circuiting. It’s nothing. It’s fine.
“That shut you up, hey? Olive Garden too bougie for you? Don’t worry, girl– when this is all over and I’m a honey-thousand dollars richer, I’ll take you anywhere you want.”)
He should have known then.
Stopped it all in its tracks before it got totally out of control. But he didn’t.
Brock lies back against the sand, breathes in the copper-sweet taste of the ocean.
(That’s a star, right?)
The waves roll in, and he can almost see stars.
* * *
Back in her hotel room, she’s running over choreography for Tuckpantistan in her head, counting under her breath (one and two and three and -) when a noise distracts her.
A papery scratching at her hotel-room door. When Brooke goes to investigate, she sees a folded note that’s been slid underneath it.
U up?
Then below it: Haha, JK. Got a PA to deliver this, some real high school shit. Thinking bout your pretty face. <3 <3 <3
It’s signed Papi and Brooke turns rose-petal pink with embarrassment and pleasure. Fuck, she wishes she had her phone. Wishes she could FaceTime Vanjie any time she wanted, see her all bleary-eyed and soft and sleepy. Just the thought of that image makes Brooke’s heart clench painfully, and she tries not to think about why.
Instead she takes out the notepad from the desk in the hotel room.
How do I know this is really you and not just a producer fucking with me?
She folds the paper into a flat square and writes Return to Sender on the front of it, before sliding it under her hotel room door.
Then she immediately feels like an idiot.
This is ridiculous. They aren’t teenagers.
Brooke goes back to rehearsing for tomorrow, and tells herself there isn’t a stupid smile on her face. That would just be too undignified.
About fifteen minutes later (not that Brooke was counting or paying attention or anything) she hears that same scratching sound, and goes back to the door. A new piece of paper has been slid underneath it, and Brooke bites down on a grin.
You want a ring or some shit?
Thought you’d like that, something only the real MISS VANESSA VANJIE MATEO would know. This PA’s real nice, I’ma take advantage of her. UNLESS SHE’S READING THIS.
What you wearing?
Brooke snorts out a laugh (then covers her face and pretend that sound didn’t just come out of her.) She sketches out a quick, terribly unsexy picture of herself (basically a beefy stickman in pajama pants and a t-shirt) then folds it up and sticks it back under the door. This is the most bizarre flirtation she has ever taken part in, and - and she shouldn’t enjoy it as much as she does.
Vanjie’s reply includes a decidedly more X-rated stickman.
I better get some nudes next. Gotta occupy my time somehow besides missing on you.
Brooke laughs at the thought of the horrified PA that could be reading this.
You’ve seen it all in the werkroom anyway, she writes, And you could occupy your time with sleeping, maybe?
Brooke sends the note off, and gives up the ghost of rehearsing for a minute. She stretches out on her bed, arms against the headboard and bare feet nearly hanging off the end. Story of her life, really. She’s always felt like she’s too big, too tall, too much. Compared to Vanessa, she’s like some sort of beast, stumbling around crushing beautiful, delicate things beneath her feet.
Vanessa is beautiful. Brooke wouldn’t call her ‘delicate’ though, not by a long shot. She knows Vanjie well enough by now to know that she can hold her own.
(She wonders how much of that attitude is for the show. What Vanjie’s like when she’s all alone. Every so often there’s a moment where it seems like the other queen is letting her guard down, softening the sideways grin and adorable swagger that Brooke sees when the cameras are rolling.
How much of that is protective, Brooke wonders. How much of that swagger is self-defense?
How much of that humor is about survival.)
There is a reply not even ten minutes later: Nah girl, you’re keeping me up. Gonna think about you in those overalls all night, haha. When I can’t do shit tomorrow I’ll be blaming your fine self for messing with my head.
Brooke folds and unfolds Vanjie’s reply too many times, unwilling to put it down. She’s glad she can’t see herself, knows that she’s probably glowing with affection. She’s got a crush, right, just like she told them in the confessional. That’s what this is. Just a massive, ridiculous crush.
An impossible, stupid, hopeless crush.
I take no responsibility for that.
But also your angel costume is the real problem here, how am I supposed to get anything done?
Go to sleep and dream about my overalls, Miss Vaaaaanjie.
Brooke has had crushes before. She’s always survived them.
When she slides her note back under the door she thinks that will be the end of it, but a reply comes later, clock nearing midnight and shadows sliding like fingers through the blinds.
Sweet dreams Brooky Poo.
Brooke holds the note against her chest, and laughs, and when she falls asleep she’s still smiling. Her dreams are full of white feathers, falling gently as snow from the ceiling of her hotel room. Settling soft as a promise against Brooke’s open mouth.
#rpdr fanfiction#vanessa vanjie mateo#brooke lynn hytes#branjie#angst#canon#canon adjacent#elastic heart#mia ugly#concrit welcome#submission#on set fic#s11
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But You Do...
[GENRE: fluff, angst
Pairing: Kim Namjoon×Reader (OC)
Word Count: 2k+
Keyword: Pollen allergy
Warning: explicit depictions of verbal abuse ]
[Summary: Lee, an ordinary girl, with an ordinary wish to have a loving family. But not always all wishes come true, not even the simplest ones. She still has to know that family doesn't always mean the same, it could be a single person too.]
[A/n: After much procrastinating, here is the first chapter of my spring fic for @njssi ! I tried to make it up to the mark and I hope that you'll like it *fingers crossed* ]
Leaning on the windowpane of the moving bus Lee heaved a heavy sigh and looked out at the blurrily passing by night city. She could sense the uneasy yet surprised stares of the other passengers that were directed towards her. Though feeling uncomfortable she didn't care much. If she was in their place she would have been curious and surprised too, to see a constantly sneezing girl in a white knee-length bridesmaid dress, badly messy hair, red face partially covered by a pollution mask and even redder eyes. Glancing for the fifth time in the past hour at the board inside the bus - that said about its current position- she grew impatient, but at this moment she needed to stay as calm as possible otherwise her condition would only get worse and thinking that she tried to calm herself down. She reminded herself that time was only relative - the more you wanted it to pass quickly, it gets slower and the more you wanted it to slow down, the faster it passed. She scoffed to herself as this reminded her of a day almost six years ago.
"Mom!!" An excited Lee came jumping into the kitchen, "Do you know that time is a relative unit? It works inversely proportional to the speed that you want it to pass! Isn't it amazing?" She was clearly fascinated at the new discovery and wanted to share it with her mom.
"And where from did you know that?" Her mom asked while kneading dough because Lee's brother wanted to eat pie that night. Lee's eyes sparkled at the thought that her mom was interested so she replied, "I was watching a movie named Lucy! It's so amazing and I learnt so many things."
"So you were wasting your time watching movies? Listen, those bullshit things are never going to help you in your real life! All that matter are your marks! And if you are not studying now then help me with making this pie. All you ever do is waste your time on useless things and pick up bad habits! What am I gonna do with you?"
The enthusiasm that Lee brought with her drained at an instant and quickly replying "Sorry mom.." she started helping her, trying hard not to let her tears fall in front of her mother.
The tears that had started to fall at playback of the memory brought her back to reality and she glanced once again at the electrical board, relieved that she had only one more stop, to endure the pain, and the stares.
Getting off the bus she opened the Google Maps to search for any clinics nearby - the sneezing and the itchiness were getting intolerable. To her convenience there was a clinic nearby. At the reception she managed to ask about the doctors for allergies amidst her terrible sneezing. The receptionist looked at her with concern and said, "The doctor's shift is about to close but let me check. Please wait while I make the call." She nodded in agreement and looked away at the posters hanged in there to distract herself while tapping her feet impatiently.
"Excuse me!" The receptionist called out after a while. Lee turned her head at that way and pointing to herself asked, "Me?"
The receptionist nodded and said, "The doctor is ready to see you. His room is at the very end in the left wing. Please make your left turn at the very first turning of this passage." And pointed towards a long passage ahead. Bowing at the receptionist as a thanks Lee made her way towards the doctor's chamber.
She gently knocked at the door and a gentle soothing voice answered, "Please come in. The door is open."
As she stepped into the room she could figure out that the doctor had already packed up to close for the day. She was grateful that he agreed to check her up before leaving. He told her to sit down and told her to take the mask off. His soothing expression turned into a worried one as soon as she did what she was told to. He exclaimed, "It seems like you have pollen allergy and you have been holding it for too long! I will give you an antihistamine shot, that'll give you relief." He gave her a gentle smile and went to prepare the shot. Lee looked around while waiting and her eyes landed on the nameplate. "Kim Namjoon" she whispered to herself smiling mildly as she realised the meaning - the name suited his genius looks.
"Are you afraid of injections?" He asked after preparing the shot.
"Not really. I am used to them." Lee answered and then sneezed loudly.
Dr. Kim shook his head slightly and said, "You shouldn't have stayed unchecked for so long. But what's done is done. You will feel better after this." He then applied ethanol at a certain spot on her left arm and pushed the injection.
"I'll write you some medicines. Make sure you take them." Saying this he began writing the prescription with concentration. The shot seemed to do its work and her vision was much clearer than before, so she took this opportunity to observe the person sitting in front of her. She couldn't help but gawk at him - she seldom came across such handsome men. Not long after, she discovered his dimples, and noted in her mind that he was not only handsome but cute too, and his long and beautifully shaped fingers became her instant favourite.
After paying the bill, Lee came out of the clinic and sighed heavily thinking, "What now? There's no going back at this point."
It had been a long day and she never expected that this day would arrive so soon. Although she was glad, somewhat, that she was finally in Seoul, away from her family but still some things made her sad and she couldn't figure out what those things were. She had been preparing herself for this day subconsciously from many days back, and now she had enough money to stay at a cheap hotel until she found an apartment to rent.
She had been giving job interviews secretly online after completing her graduation and she was beyond happy that she got the job in Seoul; pretty far away from her home.
As the medicine worked it's way to drive away the temporary sickness, she made her way to get a hotel room.
After checking in, she quickly went in for a bath, leaving her luggages on the bed. As she stood under the cold shower, she could feel the whole day's fatigue wash away little by little. Changing into her favourite pajamas, she called in the room service and ordered some cold noodles and fried chicken; she was starving. The food, she thought as she took in the savoury feeling, had always made her feel content and happy. But her mom had always thought quite the opposite of it. According to her, Lee's loving food was a bad habit, just like every other 'bad habits' she had. Whenever her mom scolded her for being hungry frequently and on the other hand constantly asked her younger siblings whether they were hungry or not, it made her tear up always. As she sat down and ate, she remembered that her family had always had dinner together, no matter what happened. Now that she was alone, she kinda missed the noises but didn't mind because it was somewhat peaceful. Once again her mind raced to the past, three months ago, an August evening to be precise.
"So when are your results coming out?" Lee's mom asked after putting a piece of boiled carrot in her mouth elegantly while sitting at the dining table.
This was the time of the day that Lee dreaded as well as hated the most. Her mom had a strict rule that everyone in the family should have dinner together. If someone was late, everyone had to wait for that person to arrive so that all of them could spend some quality 'family time'. But at this point Lee totally doubted whether she was a part of the family or not and also whether this dinner was actually, as mentioned earlier, a family time or 'criticise-Lee-and-praise-others' hour.
"I don't know mom. The university has put up a notice saying that it would be delayed." She replied timidly, measuring every word cautiously, so that her mom wouldn't find anything in those words offensive enough.
But it never actually mattered how much caution she put in choosing the words because after all it's her mom and she would always find something to scold her about.
"What do you mean by the university has put up a delaying notice? Your university isn't that irresponsible! That's why I admitted you there; for your irresponsible self to get at least a little bit responsible! I bet you haven't checked properly. How can a person be so absentminded? " Her mom sighed loudly and continued, "Or is it the other way around? I think they have already published the result and you are not telling me!" Her mom glared at her.
Up until now Lee was swallowing up her words silently because talking back would have only resulted in getting a smack back. But the problem with her was that she had never been good at controlling her rage enough when it came to someone accusing her falsely.
Keeping the spoon with a loud clinking sound she rose from her seat and said, half yelling and half holding back her tears, "If you distrust me so much then go to my university tomorrow and see for yourself!"
The walk to her room was not easy as her legs felt like concrete, heavy, but she somehow managed to drag herself away. While going back she could hear her mother shouting at her, "How could you talk to me like that? Have you ever seen your sister or brother talk to me like that? You never loved anyone of us! I can sign a bond that one day you are gonna leave us and never look back, ignoring all the responsibilities to your family!"
At this she turned back and hoarseness permanent in her voice, she replied, "Of course! Isn't that obvious enough? That's what I am going to do! It's not worth it to live here." A drop of tear trickled down her cheek as she choked back the words "all you ever did was hate me. I was never a good child to you as your other children are!"
She slammed her door shut and broke down while sitting and leaning on the door; the tears were unstoppable. She could still hear her mother complaining about her loudly to her sister.
To stop the sounds from reaching her ears, she lied down on her bed with a pillow on her ear and cried until the hiccups made her breathing go hazy, until she fell asleep.
Lee shook her head to not let the memory dig deeper and decided to stay happy until she finished her food. Turned out that her mom's words became true; she had left her house. She knew that she would do it anyways and she didn't regret it.
By the time she wrapped up, it was already midnight and she was sleepy. Not wanting to ruin the still-happy mood she decided to gulp down the medicines and hop into bed as soon as possible. As thought, so was done.
Nights like those, where she had just cried wetting her pillow, muffling her voice in it so that the scream couldn't come out because she was tired knowing that no one cared, until she fell asleep, were endless and the most painful moments in her life. But tonight was different and she hoped that the coming nights would be too.
She snuggled closer to the pillow with a faint smile still hung on her lips and drifted off to sleep quite quickly while hoping that tomorrow would be better.
(to be continued...)
#kwritersworldnet#kwspringexchange#springficexchange#bts ff#kim namjoon#namjoon ff#bts fanfiction#bts rm#fluff#angst#namjoon x reader#bts love#but you do#chapter one#bts love story#bts au
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Dirty Little Secret |eɴᴅᴇᴀᴠᴏʀ x rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ|
I was naive falling in love with you.
But maybe a part of me wanted to believe everything you said.
"wнen тнe тearѕ coмe ѕтreaмιng down yoυr ғace 'caυѕe yoυ loѕe ѕoмeтнιng yoυ can'т replace wнen yoυ love ѕoмeone вυт ιт goeѕ тo waѕтe wнaт coυld ιт вe worѕe?" -coldplay.
_____________________________________________________________
"Did you ever feel that magical spark inside you everytime we made LOVE?"
How did it end up like this? Why did I let him treat me like garbage? Only used me so he wouldn't feel alone. I was naive and stupid thinking that maybe one day he would change to become a better man but, I was foolish for such a wish like that. I fell head over heels to ever think it would happen. Maybe somewhere deep inside of me had that tiny little hope. I could still remember those hatred words he yelled before leaving the hotel room where we last made love.
"If you don't want to loose that scholarship that I PAYED for, you better keep your mouth shut. You're nothing but a foolish girl who's only good at sleeping around with heroes for money. Forget we ever met and go back to your pathetic life. I never want to see you again." Those were his last words. Yet after such a long time I can't seem to forget them.
It's true that if it wasn't for his help I couldn't had gotten into a good college. But he was wrong about sleeping around with other heroes because the person whom I lost my V card was him and no one else. He's completely insane if he thinks I sleep around with others especially heroes. I was only a freshmen when that argument took place and the last time I saw him. He said he was going to pay for the scholarship every year but he lied. Once the second semester was over they inform me that no one had made a payment for the second year.
I got two part time jobs during summer vacation but it still wasn't enough to pay for the second year. So with all my heart I had to drop out it was impossible for someone as a simple civilian like myself to pay an extreme amount for a college that wouldn't had turned me into a hero even if I wanted to. But for someone like myself who comes from a small middle class family living outside of Tokyo could never get a fair opportunity like that ever again.
I had no other choice but to return back home and help out my mom with taking care of my sibilings. My mother remarried with a man named [D/N] he's a kind and gentle men who loves my mother very much. Despite him not being my biological father he's always supported me and my crazy ideas. My mom and him had two little girls. One is eight years old named Akari while the youngest one is five years old named Himawari.
My biological father passed away before I was born so my step dad adopted me as his daughter giving me he's last name. It's been at least two years since i've been living with my family. I was nineteen years old when everything fell upside down. But I have turned twenty one a few months ago thankfully living here has been a great environment for me. My family has helped me get through it and I hardly think of him. They don't know anything about my secret relationship with Endeavor and they probably never will at least that's what I used to think.
I know work at a elementrey school where my both sisters attend. I'm a teacher's assistant for fourth graders. Both my parents used to ask me about why I dropped out of college when I was so excited about attending. Of course I had to lie and try my best to dodge the question but of course they both knew something was up. But respected my privacy and space so they stopped asking.
"Ne, sister are you going to the field trip with us to U.A. University tomorrow?" [I AM HAVING THE CHARACTERS INCLUDED IN THIS FANFIC SO EVERYONE WILL BE THE SAME AGE AS THE READER.] Himawari asked glancing at me as all three of us walked down the street holding hands together.
I smiled down at her. "Of course I will hima your big sis will be with you all day tomorrow."
Akari snorted. "That's not fair why can't you come with me it's not the same with mom." I stroked her hair. "Don't be mean Akari mom is fun at fieldtrips. When I was your age she would always sit with me in the bus along with all my friends."
"What's so fun about that? It sounds pretty lame to me." I pinched her cheek. "She would use her quirck to make magic tricks." I released my hand from her cheek. While she rubbed her red cheek and continued walking.
"Alright, you have a point there mom's magic tricks are pretty cool. Wow look at that look sis it's him!" Akari pointed a finger at the televisions from a store on our right side. I turned my head to Akari along with Himawari running over to the glass window where other people passing by took a glance or ignored it and continued on with their day.
"You guys we are going to be la-"
"Just In the Number Two Hero Endeavor has done it again. Earlier this morning he captured one of the villains whom was on the most wanted list for killing several people around Tokyo. There are a few casualties but nothing to serious luckily civilains could now feel free to walk around the street without feeling scared look there he comes now. Mr. Endeavor Sir can we get a word!." The reporter and cameras all gathered around Endeavor with the villain tied in a rope. Endeavor crossed his arms smirking at his surroundings and directly to the cameras. "Mr. Endeavor how did you managed to captured such a villain who was on the search for almost two years." He asked placing the microphone over to him. Endeavor took a step forward to the camera and spoke.
"It doesn't matter how he was captured all you need to know is this villain will not hurt another civilain he will be in jail for a very long time. The Number Two Hero will always be here to proect everyone that's my job as a hero." Endeavor walked away from the reporters making them chase over him to get another interview out of him. The screen turned black and people cheered including my two younger sisters. The small crowd that was gathered around the small shop disappeared one by one.
"Endeavor's so cool don't, you think so sis?" Himawari asked running over to me as Akari followed behind.
"I know right! When I grow up I want to become a hero just like him!" I snapped my head towards them. I clucthed my hands near my side.
"Don't you ever repeat that again do you hear me Akari you could never be like him and you will never meet him ever! Now come on we can't be late for school." The rest of the way to school it was silent both girls know not to talk back when I get angry.
Once arriving to school Akari walked away from us to her friends leaving himawari and I alone. Hima glanced at her sister then back at me. "Why did you get mad at us big sis?" She asked hugging my leg staring me back with those big brown eyes of hers.
I looked down at her then back at the ground. "Because...."
"Do you not like Endeavor sis? Because you never get mad at us often Akari is sad because you yelled at us but, we didn't do anything wrong."
I shook my head kneeling down to her height. "Me not liking.... him has nothing to do with me getting mad at her I promise."
"Then why don't you go apologize to her?" She sure isn't making this easy maybe I should apologize to her. I just wish she wouldn't look up to someone who doesn't know the true him. Underneath all the fame and glory he doesn't give a crap about anyone.
"Himawari i'm here what do you want." Akari stood next to hima.
"Big sis wants to apologize to you now do it quick i'll leave you two alone." Hima ran away over to her friends. Akari kicked a pebble with her shoe ignoring eye contact with me.
"Listen I shouldn't had yelled at you. I was just angry because you ran off without my permission and took Hima with you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you okay...... and about what I said forget it you have the right to look up at any hero you want just please... choose someone better like All Might or Best Jeanist. Don't you think Enj- Endeavor is always grumpy and doesn't like other's company. Do you want to be like him? And talk like this. I'm Endeavor and am the number two hero. I get so angry that I burn myself with my own quirk." I spoke trying to immitate his voice.
Akari laughed shaking her head. "Not anymore I want to be like All Might because he always smiles and saves people with a smile!" She yelled.
"See people who save people with a smile are a lot kinder than those who can't never seem to smile." The bell suddenly rang indicating its time for class to start.
"I promise to take you and Hima for ice cream after school now hurry before you get late to class." I hugged her from behind planting a kiss on her forehead and released her.
"what about me sis." Himawari came running towards me hugging my waist and gaved her a kiss on the forhead too. "Hurry Hima i'll see you later." Akari waited for her little sister and walked inside the building together. I made my way to the other building of the school.
FLASHBACK:
It was during summer break before attending my first year in college when I had a planned a big surprise for Enji. I had bought brand new yukata's for couples. Enji's yukata was inside a big blue and grey box with a light baby blue bow. I placed the box on the brown table in the middle of the living room with a note attached to his present. I took a shower and got ready to meet him at the festival before he came home from work. I had asked him earlier today what time he would get home and said around six if nothing important came up. Once I was fully dressed I took a quick picture and saved it before grabbing my purse and exited the apartment.
When I reached the outside of the building the sun was settling down. A few patches of the sky had a colored of pink mixed with yellow indicating summer time was just beginning. The air was warm yet fresh at the same time. A big smile was plastered on my face as I walked down the street alone admiring the great afternoon many couples walked ahead of me wearing yukata's or kimonos holding hands together walking next to each other. As I walked behind the adorable couple's I couldn't help but imagine how my relationship with Enji would be if he wasn't a pro hero or yet.... married. I was his lover after all there's no way I could ever become his girlfriend.
I wiped the tears that where slipping out of my eyes before it ruined my make up. I continued my way towards the temple where the festival is being held in. When I reached the temple the sun was no where to be seen but the beautiful night sky filled with stars and a full moon makes everything light up. The festival was full with people standing at the food stands ordering food or walking in a group.
From kids to teenagers to even old people are enjoying the festival. I was the only person who was on her own but I knew soon it will change when Enji gets here. Speaking of Enji he should had gotten home already maybe I should call him. But first i'm going to go get something to eat. I skipped happily at the caramel apple stand to buy an apple. After buying the delicious apple I decided to call Enji and see if he's gotten the surprise. I took my phone out of the bag and dialed Enji's number while taking bites of the apple while I waited for him to answer.
After the fourth ring he had finally picked up the phone. "Hey, Enji are you home from work yet." I spoke between chews.
"Yes i'm outside the building where are you, what's that loud noise in the background?" He asked annoyed.
I smiled enjoying the great atmosphere. "Just go inside the apartment there's a surprise waiting for you."
"What the hell are you talking about. I'm walking inside now." I could hear the sound of keys and the closing of a door. After a few seconds I could hear him dropping off the keys on the table where the present is laid out for him. "A blue Yukata? why did you buy something I don't wear, where the hell are you."
I giggled. "It's for you silly I want you to wear it right now and meet me in the festival that's near by..... I was thinking that this could be our first d-
"I'm not going, we aren't a couple your my lover get it through your thick skull how many times do I have to repeat over and over again for you to understand that we aren't in a relationship. I never did this crap with my wife and am not going to do it with you."
My lips quiver the apple I was eating seconds ago lands on the ground getting covered in dirt all over it. The atmosphere around me fell suffocating I want to cry and screamed at the world. "B-but E-En-ji I wanted to... I thought w-we could spend time together like any couple."
"We aren't a couple gosh darn it [Y/N] can't you understand what I just said! Do you want the entire world to know about my affair with an eighteen year old! Do you want to ruin my career!" Enji growl throught the phone.
"But Enji-"
"No buts! You know what i'm going home I don't want to see your face today!" Enji hanged up the phone before I could speak again.
"But I love you Enji....."
Enji had used his quirk to burn the blue Yukata and threw the box away ripping it in pieces. He grabbed his belongings and left to his house. When I got back to the apartment the place was a mess. There where pieces of burned clothing everywhere. The placed reaked of fire but when I realized the burned clothing was the Yukata I gave him my tears had finally fell.
"[LAST NAME] Sensei you're crying are you alright?" My memory came back to school. The voice of a student brought me back to reality.
I wiped the tears that I didn't know I was crying and smiled back at them. "I'm alright just got something in my eye maybe its this air that causes me allergies but go on continue doing your work so you can go play with your classmates." They nodded and continued to do their classwork while I spaced out again.
"I keep telling myself I will forget about you but it's impossible because you will forever be my first love."
________________________
Thank you for reading this fanfic of Enji. I apologize for the bad grammar and mistakes. English isn't my first language so writing could get a bit difficult. Another thing dont bring any hate because I know not everyone likes Endeavor. Thank you for reading see you next time! One last thing every character from Izuku to Tenya will be the same age as the reader so in their early 20s. And U.A will become a University.
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Whatever It Takes-Part 7
Part 1 Master List
DEAN
I seem to have a history of doing the wrong thing for the right reasons.
When we were kids, everyone considered Sammy to be the responsible one, even though he was younger than me. He was an amazing student, he was kind, and he always tried to see the good in people. I was a hothead with a chip on my shoulder who was more interested in girls and cars than anything academic.
“Sam Winchester is going places.” His teachers would often say before quickly adding, “If he can escape that no-good family of his.”
It was bad after Mom died. Dad had never been easy, but Mom was the glue that held our family together. When she was gone my father drowned his sorrows in booze and spent most nights passed out in front of the TV. He simply didn’t know how to go on without his beloved Omega.
Sam hadn’t presented yet, but with as tall as he was getting, I was pretty sure he would be Alpha like Dad and me, which sucked for him. In the movies they made it seem like finding your Omega was your own personal ‘Happily Ever After’.
If claiming an Omega and losing her meant I would become a mess like my father, then there was no way I was ever going to put my mark on anyone. It just wasn’t worth the trouble.
I had been on a date with Rhonda Hurley and stayed out past curfew. She was a hot little piece of Omega tail who was always up for a good time, and her parents were out for the night. She knew I was just looking to get laid, and she was okay with that.
If I was lucky, the old man would still at the bar and I could sneak in. But as I walked towards the house, I saw the Impala in the driveway and I cursed under my breath. When was I ever lucky?
I eased the front door open, and my father looked up from the TV, beer in hand. “You stink of Omega. Out fucking some slut?”
“I’m going to bed.” There was no point in lying. We’d had this conversation too many times before.
He looked at me sadly. “I used to be just like you. I never believed in true love, just wanted a warm pussy to pop my knot in. Then I saw your Mom. And she was it for me. Someday your gonna meet your Omega and she’s gonna knock you on your ass. I hope I’m there when it happens so I can laugh my ass off.”
“You’re gonna wake Sam,” I said through clenched teeth. I was so tired of this, and of him. He thought he knew me so well. “Go sleep it off,” I said before turning and heading up the stairs to my room.
******
I tried to rehearse in my head exactly what I wanted to say to my brother. There was so much riding on this conversation. I wanted to tell him about Y/N, of course. He would be surprised to hear that his commitment-phobic brother had found his Omega.
Sam had suspected there was more to the story with Y/N than I was letting on. After we ran into Y/N and that dickhead Pete at Harvelle’s, I was so distracted that I was barely paying attention to a word he was said. “Who is that girl really, Dean?” he finally demanded after I had completely stopped listening to him.
“She’s just a friend.” I snapped, my eyes searching for her over Sam’s head of their own volition.
“But……” he protested.
“Drop it, Sammy. I mean it.”
Something in my voice told him I wasn’t kidding around, so he did.
*****
I kind of fell into the whole Alpha4 thing by accident. Dad had just died, and it wasn’t until after that I’d found out about the second mortgage and the money he owed Bobby. Bobby was like family and had offered me a job at his garage. Sam had been accepted at Stanford, but even with the scholarship, there still wasn’t enough money. I took all the overtime Bobby would give me, working six days a week until I practically collapsed from exhaustion.
One evening, Bobby closed the shop early because Steve was getting married and we were all going out for beers to celebrate. The last thing I wanted to do after a long day was freaking socialize, but Steve was a good guy and I deserved a night out. When we got to the bar, I was surprised to see Benny, who used to work with us but had left a few months ago.
“Dean! Long time no see, brother! Sorry to hear about your Dad.” Benny said, shaking my hand as he sat down next to me at the bar.
“Thanks.”
‘’How have you been? Are you working at another shop?” I asked. Benny had been my closest friend at the shop. I always laughed a lot when he was around. Then one day, he just gave his two weeks notice, saying he’d found something else.
Benny looked around to see if anyone was listening, and leaned in. “I don’t fix cars anymore. I found something much better. Making more money than I ever have.” He grinned at me, showing me the Rolex watch he was wearing.
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Doing what?”
Benny proceeded to tell me how he got paid to help Omegas through their heats. My mouth dropped. “Your an Alpha for hire?”
“I get paid for doing something I am biologically programmed to do anyway. Man, let me tell you. There is nothing like an Omega in heat. Best sex ever.” He said with a smirk. “You know, Dean, they are looking for new people. I bet you’d be pretty popular.”
When I asked, “How much does it pay?” I knew I was already considering it. Benny leaned over and whispered into my ear.
My mouth dropped open in shock. “Can you get me an interview?” I whispered quickly before I changed my mind. This may be just what I need to solve all my problems.
Benny waved the bartender over and ordered us both a shot. “My treat.” He said with a wink. He handed her a fifty and said, “keep ‘em comin’ sweetheart.” Grabbing a card from the same pocket, he slapped it on the bar in front of me. “Call her tomorrow, man! But tonight, we are celebrating.”
He handed me a shot, and I tucked the card into the pocket of my shirt. I raised my glass and clicked it against his. “Here’s to new beginnings!” I said over the noise of the crowd as we drained our shots.
PRESENT DAY
I was staring blindly out the window, drumming my fingers while absently downing my beer when I heard his voice. “It’s a little early for that, even for you.”
“Shut up, it’s never too early. Can I have another, and one for my friend here?”The server, a pretty little Omega looked between us and gave me a flirty wink. I didn’t even notice, I had way too much on my mind. But Sam certainly did.
“Dude, that Omega is totally into you,” Sam commented, while he ate his salad. His eyes were fixed appreciatively on her ample cleavage on display in her tight t-shirt. I had barely touched my burger while Sam seemed to be enjoying his usual bird food. We sat in near silence while we ate until I looked up and noticed him staring at me intently, eyes narrowed. “What?” I snapped impatiently.
“So, are you gonna tell me what’s on your mind or am I supposed to guess?” Sam finally asked me with a dimpled smirk. “What is your deal, Dean?”
“Can’t I just have lunch with my brother?” I say casually. “Do I need to have a deal?”
Sam put his fork down and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “Dude, you haven’t even noticed our waitress has been making eyes at you the whole time. That’s not the Dean I know.”
I rubbed my hands over my face tiredly. “You’re right, Sammy. I didn’t notice. And there’s a reason for that. I’ve met someone, and she’s it for me.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute! Is it that Omega we ran into at Harvelle’s that night I was visiting you?”
I nodded without speaking. Sam was always so smart.
He grinned knowingly. “I could tell by the way that you looked at her there was no way in hell she was just your ‘friend’. You looked like you wanted to rip that guys head off.”
Just the memory of that night made my fists clench in anger. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”
“So how did you meet her?” Sam asked curiously.
I knew this would come up at some point. It was the moment of truth. I wasn’t going to lie to my brother anymore. It was time to come clean. I took a deep breath and began to speak.
“For the past three years, I have been working at a company called Alpha4. Y/N started as a client of mine. It quickly became more. I crossed the line with her. “
Sam stared at me intently. “Alpha4? Isn’t that for Omegas when they are in heat?”
“Yeah.”
“So you’ve been having sex with Omegas in heat for money? I don’t understand, why would you do that?” Sam didn’t seem angry, just confused.
“Because I can’t make money like that working as a mechanic. Because I needed to make sure you could go to college. Because now I have enough money to buy my own garage.” I tried not to sound defensive.
“You told me Dad had money saved!” Sam said indignantly, pushing up abruptly in his seat.
“Yeah, well I lied! There was nothing left when Dad died. My friend Benny hooked me up at Alpha4, and the work was easy and I was able to get you set up in school, and I started saving money for a garage of my own. Everything was going my way for once.” Sam’s eyes were locked on me. I had his full attention.
“And your girlfriend is okay with you sleeping with other Omegas?” Sam asked quietly.
I rolled my eyes at him. “It doesn’t matter. I quit. I don’t want to be with anyone but her. I got what I needed from this job, but I’m done with it forever. I don’t regret what I’ve been able to do thanks to Alpha4. I never would have met Y/N if it wasn’t for that place.” I felt lighter as I talked with Sam. The truth really does set you free.
“Wow.” Sam as he brushed his hair back from his face. “So am I going to get to meet your Omega or what?”
I grinned at him. “She really wants to meet you.”
Part 8
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2018-2019 Short Story
Prologue
It never crossed my mind on what jail would be like, nor how tight handcuffs would be. I reckon, when truly contemplating it, jail is timeout for adults. I hadn’t been in timeout for a while, until I snapped. There was only a short period of time in my life when my family was ‘perfect’, and I was happy, even though that was a lie. Some might think ‘too bad his family wasn’t better at lying, too bad the lie didn’t last longer’. They probably believe that withholding the truth could’ve prevented his demise, therefore impeding my incarceration. But I disagree. I’m glad I found out, I’m so very glad the awfulness dawned on me. Although I do regret the substantial bulk of hours that had passed before I retaliated. I supposed my vexation had to fester, crescendo right alongside my swelling courage. It happened quickly, but in retrospect it was agonizingly slow. The truth slapped me in the face everytime I turned my head, and kept my mouth shut. If I had an audience in the abrupt instant I shifted, blanked, surrendered my soul to my rage, I imagine their faces would’ve been stoic; silently watching the brutal scene unfold in slow motion, like a movie. And they would’ve been beholding the serving of justice. They’d have expected this outcome, long awaited it’s arrival. They would then ogle at their action hero; me. However, I had no adoring audience, lest my screaming mother was included. I remember my consequence clear, including all the gruesome details. First, I felt anger that made satan nod in approval. Next, I bashed his head in again and again, feeling his bones crack under the force of my bare fists,commencing a bloody leakage. I wrecked his face. That was entertaining. But I must confess that when I forced him to chant ‘sorry’, over, and over again, having him scream his apologies then letting him know they’ll never be enough, was certainly my favorite gift from the entire ordeal.
I will get out. I will not succumb again, and I will not fold onto violence, I had promised. Tis truly sad how some people make promises without ever the intent of keeping them. I, however, had every desire to see my words to fruition. But in truth, sustaining the livelihood I had been released to was near impossible. I had gotten out, I had been a free man. I was a man so free that the wild winds, and whims of liberty overwhelmed, and consumed me. I did not surrender rationale, and civil conduct for a brief redolent of brutality. Rather I disposed of my own autonomy to return… home. After many years stationed in such a distinct environment, naturally I became accustomed to the predictable and consequently familiar routine. I was comfortable there, prison, my unconventional home. When I tried to create somewhere else for myself, somewhere ‘real’, I was troubled, having to face trial after tribulation. Reuniting with my mother was worse than expected. I knew she hated me, evidence being all my declined calls, unread letters, empty visiting chairs, and rejected feelings. But experiencing her loathe directly became one of few regretful moments in my life. The depth at which I was unwelcome in my mother's line of sight had me feeling desolate. Such bleak emotions brought me to the bane of human existence - self reflection. Following my self imposed, miserable, roller coaster ride, I realized some important things. I cannot change the past, and to hold resentment against me for my actions, after so much time serves no good. I may not have family on the outside, but I certainly have people inside who who look out for me. People who care for me, and who I might dare to call family, of some sort. This ‘real world’ belittles me at every turn. I’m mistaken for the young boy that committed heinous crimes. There is no room for growth when preconceived judgements cling to who I am today, and who I’ll be tomorrow. To rise above, subvert expectations, prove them wrong, is a herculean task. Their bias is rooted strongly in fact of what I have done, so for I to say their weariness is unwarranted would be untrue. Yet beyond their rightful prejudice lies unkind actions. When they talked behind my back, and sneered at me. Most distressing behavior is the lack of respect; how getting an interview for a minimum wage job is unusually difficult. In the ‘real’ world success is placed so far out of my grasp. What was I meant to do? No family, no job, no home; I hadn’t a real shot at life.
In Prison ...
I had worked my way up ranks to a respectable position. I wasn’t going to be a victim of extortion because I had a strong reputation. When provoked I fight back, but you don’t want to fight me because then you won’t be getting any good commissary. I had connections that sold tobacco, and connections to gangs. In prison, I had to hustle. After a while, I had managed to get a good footing there. Dare I say I managed to not only survive, but thrive.
Getting A Job
Consecutively I apply to numerous businesses. I turn up for interview upon interview. Yet each employer turns me down. Whether the few tattoos I possess are on display, or hidden, makes no difference to the outcome of my efforts. No-one wants to hear how I’m a changed man, ready to get my life right; No-one believes it either. Having been convicted of a crime, it seems I’m still paying the price. I refuse to give up. I’m not a quitter and I know there is job out there for me; I just have to find it.
Meeting My Mother
I lightly press my finger to the old, yellow doorbell before the entrance of my mother's home. As the familiar jingle rings, I straighten my jacket one final time before facing the past. I hear loud footsteps approaching the door, and the anticipation is torturous. I listen for the calming tune of chirping birds that had welcomed me back, but they cease to sing as the heavy brown door is swung open. There she is. As...old as ever? Her once dark black hair is now sprinkled with grays. Her face sags, and as her eyes settle over me, recognition washes over her features; then consequently her expression deepens. Gravity pulls her aging face farther and farther into her frown. Precariously she stumbles back, receding into her home. I step forward to catch her if she were to collapse, but am met with an outstretched arm. Palm facing me, saying halt. However she didn’t say halt, she yelled “No!” I too begin to fall. My smile and joy diminish. Replaced with confusion. “Mom, it’s me -” “NO!” She screams at my face. “No?” I whisper in the dumb of the wind. My mother hurts me, “No. You are not my son. I want you out. Leave, get out. Get out now. You’re disgraceful, you’re disgusting. You’re a killer. I hate you.” She pushes me back outside, when I had hardly taken a step in. She shoves and she yells. “I can’t even look at you!” She spits. I walk down the concrete steps of my mother's house. She continues to rage, “You are appalling!” My chest is heavy with sadness, but I don’t cry. I walk away from my childhood home. I walk away from my mother's incessant screams. Soon, I’m running. I’m running through the streets of this no-good world; my mother's words echo in my brain. “You’re horrible. You’re not my son, and I hate you.”
Self Reflection
The pair of my own brown eyes stared back at me through the foggy reflection of my bathroom mirror. “You’re horrible”. Never had I ever before felt so revolted by what I saw; entirely disgusted by the man in the mirror. I felt lonely, regretful, and most of all vile. “You’re horrible”. Embarrassed of not only my behavior, but myself as a living being. How could I? How could I do such things, I despaired. “You’re horrible”. My gaze shifted to the left then to the right with my turning head. Entirely appalled, and unable to watch myself any longer, my resolve crumbles, and my eyes waterfall as I walk away from my reflection. I’m horrible, I think. I don’t like me, I think. I don’t love me, I correct. I don’t wanna be me; I don’t wanna be him, I concede.
Invitation
He seemed a little disappointed, officer Leben. He said I shouldn't have screwed my life up again, but his slight smile told me he was glad to see me. And for the first time ever, I was glad to see him too.
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