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#i tried to post this submission last night but my phone made the text go all weird
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Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 3
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Chapter 3: If You Want To View Paradise
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Fandom: Night Hunter
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC 
Word count: 5.5K
Summary: Kamaria Mansfield is hired at the Minnesota Police Department as an intern. Detective Walter Marshall is overworked and unsatisfied. Takes place post-film.
Chapter Summary: Walter and Kamaria explore aspects of their relationship, including control and vulnerability. This chapter is pretty emotional, so heed the warnings!
Chapter warnings: Walter says ‘Fuck’ a lot, soft!Dom!Walter, spicy texting, sexting, unrealistic working hours of a detective I’m sure of it, emotional moments, flashback to a violent incident, aftercare
A/N: Very Walter-centric chapter. I wanted to get inside his head. But also, Kamaria is my protagonist, so I made her the beginning and end of the chapter. Un-beta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
Cross-posted on AO3
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
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Kamaria’s POV
Monday Night
I had to call him Sir at least once. For science. Just to see if my hypothesis was correct. And it was. Seems my ‘handsome stranger’ likes to be in charge. And I like the thought of him in charge. A few other thoughts run through my mind at that.
My shyness went right out the door! I can’t believe I just told this man that his growl went straight to my kittycat. Well, I did use an emoji. But he understood very well.
And he didn’t have to growl like that and get me all hot and bothered, had me squeezing my thighs together the whole ride home.
And he called me Princess! My submissive ass was salivating so I had to drop another ‘Yes Sir’.
I ate my salad and got into bed so quickly to sate this need, my head could have spun. After I quenched my appetite in various ways, a thought occurred to me. What happens now? How do I act around him, knowing what I know and what he knows? 
I’ll figure that shit out later, I guess. My brain is fried and my clit is blitzed. Put a fork in me, cuz I’m done. 
Damn, I can’t wait til I’m wrecked because of him…
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Walter’s POV
Tuesday Morning
I wake up to my phone trumpeting ‘How Soon Is Now?’ by The Smiths. I’m still in my clothes from last night, my half-hard dick still out. Awesome. I gently tuck myself back in, noting that the skin is still sensitive to the touch. I did promise to beat it like it owed me money.
I silence my phone and think back to last night. Texting with Kam had been…enlightening. Turns out my suspicions were correct. She likes to be submissive, maybe even a little bratty too. I’ll tame her only if she gets out of line. 
Can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. If she liked the growl, she’ll enjoy my feral side. But I won’t get ahead of myself. Haven’t even kissed her yet.
Yet being the keyword. I plan on devouring her lips. Both sets. There I go getting ahead of myself again. I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing.
I shoot her a quick text, I want her to know I’m thinking of her.
Me: Good morning Beautiful
I set my phone to the side and get undressed to take a shower. As I’m getting the water to temperature, my phone dings twice.
Kam: No ‘Princess’?
Kam: 🥺
That fucking emoji is gonna be the death of me, I am declaring it right now.
Me: Good morning beautiful Princess
Me: Is that better?
Kam: Yessssssss
Kam: NOW I can start my day 😉
Kam: How did you sleep?
Me: I passed right out after a little…strenuous activity.
Let’s see how she handles that.
Kam: I also passed out after some ‘strenuous activity’.
Kam: A shame we couldn’t have coordinated that better…
Sounds like she handled that like a champ, and she is insinuating we could have helped each other. This woman!
Me: Are you saying we could have…
Me: Helped each other, Princess?
A full thirty seconds pass before my phone dings again. By that time, I am already in the shower. She will just have to wait. And I will have to wait as well, even though I could just as easily look at the lock screen from the shower door. Nah, patience is the key here. Patience for me and perhaps anxiety for her. I finish my shower, not toweling off, and reach for my phone which has dinged multiple times by now.
Kam: I mean there is always FaceTime
Kam: And I do live pretty close to work
Kam: So in essence, we are probably close to each other
Kam: Not that I’m saying I’m ready for a FaceTime booty call
Kam: Or another kind of booty call
Kam: It’s been…a while for me 🥺
Me: How long has it been Princess?
Kam: Over a year 😫
A fucking year? And no one has turned that pussy into mincemeat? Why am I suddenly angry? I know why. It’s because my brain can’t fathom this woman not getting everything she wants all the time.
Me: Was that by choice? Bad breakup? 
Kam: You don’t know the half of it. 
Kam: But I wanna tell you about it. Just not over text, in person is better.
Me: I’m all ears. When you’re ready.
Me: There is no rush Princess
Kam: Thank you Sir, ok I need to shower and get ready
Me: I already showered
Me: [image sent]
Why the fuck do I always have sender’s remorse? It’s only my chest, not my dick or anything. Oh, but my Adonis belt is visible a tad. And I’m still wet from the shower.
Kam: 🥵🥵🥵
Kam: Sir!!! 
Kam: That’s what you’re hiding under those layers??
Me: Lol 
Kam: I wanna rub my hands through that thicket of hair
Me: And here I thought Princess was a shy one
Kam: Oh, I’m not as shy with texting…
Kam: I haven’t even kissed you yet
Kam: And I’m already thinking of other ways to use my mouth
Kam: 🤤😛
Kam: How am I gonna focus at work?
Me: Keep calm and Carry On Princess
Kam: 😡
There’s my little brat. Let’s see how far she takes it.
Me: Is that backtalk??
Kam: NO!!!!!!
Kam: I just…am frustrated now
And she can reign it in after a little encouragement. I like that.
Me: Good. Stay frustrated. 
Kam: 🥺
Me: Get ready for work Princess
Me: I’ll see you soon
Me: Text me when you get there
And with that, I put down my phone and get ready for my day and ignore whether or not my phone dings.
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Walter’s POV
Tuesday Morning (continued)
I’m out the door after a while, ending up in the parking lot. Not in my usual spot as it was taken by a cute little silver Toyota, the driver checking herself out in the rearview mirror. I could crash this truck staring at her.
Me: You’re at work
Me: But I didn’t receive a text telling me so
Me: Hmm 🤔
Kam: I swear I just got here
Kam: I promise!!
Kam: Wait where are you??
Me: Be a good girl and go on in
Kam: Yes Sir
Not even an ounce of brattiness. Just an obeyed command. Fuck. I watch as she exits her car and locks it, walking towards the entrance. I exit my vehicle, just to the left of her, watching as she walks right by and into the building, smiling as she does. I notice she is wearing a heather grey box-pleat skirt and the way it hugs that ass is magical, the tops of her pink thigh-high socks are visibly hugging those deliciously thick thighs.
I send off a few texts as I follow behind her a few paces back.
Me: Hate to see you go
Me: Love to watch you leave 
Me: 🍑
Me: A thing of beauty
I wait until she looks up at me from her phone screen and I toss her a grin, brushing past her as I walk to my office. Imperceptibly to anyone else around us, of course. We just look like two colleagues exchanging pleasantries.
Kam: Thank you 😊
Kam: Have to get to work now Sir
Me: Good girl
Me: Busy day today, but I’ll be sure to walk you out later
Me: See you then
Kam: See you later Sir
And with that, I ignore my phone for the rest of the day. 
Not that I had to, Kam behaved herself. Every time I peeked at her desk, I saw that she was typing away on whatever assignment she was given. She goes out to lunch with the twins again today. I’m glad she is forming a routine here. Something to keep her busy on days I can’t seem to get a break. Like today.
Rachel barges in around 3 pm, fire in her eyes. No doubt something went wrong with the search teams this morning.
I was right, in a way.
“He lied,” Rachel scowls, throwing down the map of the bodies, “Not about the first four. The last body on this map isn’t who he said it would be. Why lie? I mean, after all the work you did to get it out of him. After all the work I put into this.” She sits in the chair across from me defeatedly.
Even after all this time, it’s hard to watch her be upset.
“Look, this is still a win. Even if he only gave us four out of five, that’s four more than we originally had. Four families can lay their loved ones to rest,” I tilt my head to try and reason with her, “This guy probably doesn’t even realize that he just made his situation worse by exposing that information.”
“You’re right. This is a win,” she blows out a satisfied breath, “I mean, if anything, now we have six confirmed kills. How often do killers bury their victims in the same place as another killer right?” 
It would almost be comical if it wasn’t about murder.
“Exactly. Now, we need to get the location of that last body. Are you up for that?” I ask, secretly hoping she wants me to rough him up again.
“Yeah, I got this. If I need you, I’ll send Harper to come to collect you,” She stands up and reaches for my hand over the desk. 
I take hers, knowing she just needed a positive touch in that moment. “You got this,” I say, letting her hand go after a slight squeeze.
“Detective Marshall?” Kamaria stands in my doorway, file in one hand, the hem of her pink button-up sweater clutched in the other hand. 
Fuck.
Rachel lets go of my hand a little too slowly, waving as she hightails it out of my office.
“Um, the file you requested on, uh,-”
“That wasn’t what it looked like, Kam,” I get up and close the door slightly, making sure Rachel is down the hall. I stand just within arm’s reach.
“So, you weren’t holding her hand?” Her bottom lip quivers and I hate myself for being the cause of it.
“I did hold her hand, but it was nothing more than a friendly gesture. She’s dealing with a tough case at the moment. I just wanted to let her know I’m here for her. I promise that’s all.” I’m rambling now, it would seem.
“And you don’t like her?” She clutches the file to her chest, not yet looking me in the eye.
“I used to like her,” I watch as she stiffens slightly, “Now I barely tolerate her. She’s my ex.”
She finally looks up at me, an unshed tear in her eye. “Do you like me?”
“Yes,” I take the file from her hands and throw it on my desk. Using my thumb, I wipe at the tear as it threatens to fall upon her cheek, “I like you.”
“I like you too, I promise I’m not some jealous little girl and I probably have no right to be anyway. I just don’t have a good history with my ex and I saw her hand in yours and I…just…” She rattled on, wrapping her arms around herself and clutching the fabric of her sweater through shaky fingers.
“You have every right to be confused right now. I comforted my ex, the ex who literally told me she doesn’t need me. But let me make one thing clear,” I take her hands in mine and lean down so my forehead touches hers, “Yours are the hands I want to hold.” 
I can feel her breathing pick up as she tilts her head to look from the door back to me. I don’t see the kiss coming, but the surprise of it has me reeling. Feeling her lips against mine is like breathing for the first time. Our tongues mingling is akin to tasting water after being in the desert. My hands long to wander but settle against her face. Our first kiss ends in panting breaths and passion restrained.
“Fuck,” is all I can croak out.
“Ditto,” she smiles, landing another peck at the corner of my mouth. 
“Do you have plans tonight?” I put feelers out, wondering if she’d like to continue this.
“You tell me, Sir,” she is delighted when that response earns her a low growl. We are so close, I’m sure she can feel it rumble in my chest.
“Let me cook for you at my place tonight. We can talk and spend time together,” I press, hoping this isn’t too soon to invite her over.
“I’d like that,” she leans back to look into my eyes, “May I have one more kiss? Just one and then I’ll go and let you get back to work.”
“Just one?” I ask, sly grin unhidden. She nods, biting her bottom lip. I reach up and tug that lip free of her teeth and lean in. I debate saying ‘No’ to watch her squirm, but we both need this.
I put my hand behind her head and slot our mouths together. Promises untold and wishes unmade dream up an expanse that we occupy for a few moments more. We pull back to catch our breaths, and before I take her right here on my desk.
“Go back to work, Princess. We have about,” I check my watch and look back to her, “An hour and a half til the end of the day. Think you can make it without letting your mind wander too much?” I question. My thumb is ghosting over her bottom lip before she takes the digit into her mouth, letting it go with a little sucking sound. That goes right to my dick and it takes everything out of me to not adjust right myself right in front of her.
“I can handle it, Sir” she murmured, stamping a kiss on the tip of my nose, “The question is, can you?” She moves to back out of the office, but I pull her back in, spinning her around so that her back is flush against me.
I growl lowly, nuzzling into her ear while holding her hips against the evidence of her handiwork. “Feel that, Princess? That is all your doing. No one else does that to me,” I admitted, letting her try and squirm against me before guiding her toward the door again, “Feel free to think about that, and thanks again for the file.” I bellow, smiling at her as I opened the door for her to leave.
She is visibly flustered but wipes it away before going back to her desk without another word. This is too much fun. 
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Walter’s POV
Tuesday Evening
At about twelve after five, a knock on my door pulls my attention. Kamaria stands there, holding her coat and purse while dramatically checking a non-existent watch on her wrist. 
“Quarter past a freckle, is it?” I shake my head and she laughs, coming all the way into the office. 
“A freckle, indeed,” she teased, “I have a request, by the way. And you’re more than welcome to deny the said request. But you did also say that ‘mine are the hands you want to hold’ though”, she encouraged while doing a spot-on posh English accent to mimic my words. 
“And your request would be…?” I wondered, watching as her face adorably scrunches up in thought, “Does Princess want to hold my hand as we walk out?” The look of disbelief on her face is 100% worth overcoming my fear of public displays of affection.
“How…ok, maybe I did make it a bit obvious. But I also wanna see Nina and Sophie’s faces when they realize I wasn’t joking about having my eye on someone. They kept trying to get me to talk to the waiter at the diner and give him my number.” She twirls one of her locs around a finger, while I push down the urge to get jealous about a waiter making eyes at her.
“I’ll hold your hand on the way out, under one condition,” She tilts her head and raises her eyebrows as I speak, curious about what she’ll have to agree to. “You let me eat you out tonight until I’m satisfied. No more, no less.” I dared, searching her eyes for intimidation of any kind.
“Hold up, you’ll hold my hand AND you wanna eat me out? Say less! Let’s get out of here, Sir,” she gushed, no doubt forgetting the phrase ‘until I’m satisfied’. 
She’ll remember soon enough.
I stand up, grabbing my coat from the hook by the door. I reach out my hand to hold hers, and she smiles, locking our fingers. We walk out of my office, and down the hallway. I throw on my coat and help Kam into hers. The baffled faces of the twins as we walk by are more than enough, but the sputtering Nina does as I kiss Kam’s cheek is enough to do it all over again. Kam waves goodnight to her friends and we exit the building.
We walk to her car and I make sure she has my address programmed into her phone’s GPS before kissing her through the open car window. I get in my truck, pull out and wait for her to follow me. Before long, we are in the driveway and I’m taking her hand to help her out.
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Walter’s POV
Tuesday Evening (continued)
While I am in the kitchen, whipping up a quick penne alfredo, I allow Kam to roam through the living room. She turns on a playlist from her phone to play on my Bluetooth speaker. She seems to like music that she can move to, and I do enjoy watching. As I set up our plates on the dining room table, I watch as she sways to a favorite of mine, ‘Human’ by Rag’n’Bone Man. 
‘Oh, some people got the real problems
Some people out of luck
Some people think I can solve them
Lord heavens above
I'm only human after all
I'm only human after all
Don't put the blame on me
Don't put the blame on me’
I walk up behind her and slot my arms around her waist, swaying along with her. “Dinner is ready, Princess,” I informed, leaning to kiss her cheek. She beams at me, peeking around me at the table.
“It smells wonderful and I am starving,” she piped over the sound of the music. 
She turns the volume down on the speaker and switches it to some light classical music. I recognize a piano arrangement of ‘Pure Imagination’ as she comes to join me at the table. I pull out her chair for her and she allows me to do so, my love language on full display. I sit across from her and nod for her to eat.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone cook for me before. I’m in my early thirties and I’m being romanticized and I’ll be honest, I don’t quite understand how to process this,” she says, twirling some noodles on her fork, “So, I’m doing what I always do and I’m letting my brain force words out of my mouth at high speed.” She stops herself, shoving almost too much food into her mouth and the most sinful moan follows. Noticing the smile on my face as I chew my first bite, she realizes all too quickly that I enjoy her sounds as she does mine.
“Good?” I surmise as she tries to hide her enjoyment.
“Very good,” she nods, stopping before taking another bite, “I absolutely love pasta. I’ve never met a pasta I don’t like. From a simple spaghetti to an intricate tagliatelli. I fucking love it. I love food. I’m sure that’s evident, right?” She shakes her head at herself, no doubt berating herself for putting herself down.
I put my fork down and put my hand over hers. “You know, it’s not hard to see your inner struggle with self-confidence. But, if I may say, the way you immediately try and correct yourself is astounding. In the same breath, you reign it in. A lot of us wish we had the same power. Don’t sell yourself so short.” I posit, trying to reassure her.
“I know that self-confidence is not exactly my strong suit. But I am confident about certain things in my life. Like my fashion sense and my taste in music,” she pauses, putting down her fork, “But before you? My preference for companionship left a lot to be desired.”
“How so?” I prod, giving her the space to talk freely.
“Um, that’s a long story honestly. But I want you to know the long and short of it, so I’ll just come out with it. I was in a long-term Dom/sub relationship where I was emotionally abused. And he went on to cheat on me multiple times…with my best friend of all people, which is why I find it difficult to trust most people. When I find a connection with someone, I tend to latch on to them tightly or push them away completely. I feel like I only know two emotions sometimes. Fear and loneliness.” Her hands reflexively flex, as if they are grabbing at the air. I place mine over hers and squeeze, urging her to continue.
“My ex, Christopher, and I met in college where we were art majors. He was absolutely beautiful. Sun-kissed skin, gorgeous blonde hair like spun gold, and these eyes that could draw you in making you feel like you were the only one in the room. We were like night and day, complete opposites. But he was relentless in his pursuit of me. He used to say I was his muse, a real starving artist type, ya know? Even though his parents paid for everything. Pretty soon, he moved me into his loft, with promises of love and understanding and I fell for every line he could throw out. Every lie, I fell for. Every half-truth, I believed. I was in love and nothing else mattered.” She squeezes my hand, and I rub the back of hers with my thumb.
“Soon after I agreed to marry him, he began to refer to me as his property. I was his, but he was never truly mine. He would comment on my weight, restricting my diet and putting on what I later realized were diet pills. He would say my best friend Britnee and I would be the perfect soulmate for him if we could somehow meld our personalities and bodies together. I would just laugh, I had no idea that I was being abused. I thought I was just in love with someone who wanted me to be better for them. And by better, what it really meant was, completely different. He wanted a doll. Someone he could parade around and do hideous acts to. Someone who wouldn’t complain about being mistreated.” Her breathing picks up and her eyes become vacant.
“He had never raised his hand to me in anger until the night I found out he and Britnee were having sex. There were times, of course, when he would take a ‘scene’ too far but I was able to bury those after a while. I told him I was leaving. He told me I couldn’t leave because I had no one to run to. That was true, my mother had given up on me completely when I was a child because she never wanted to be a mother. And my Dad was halfway across the world, working on his photography career. I was alone except for those two people who were draining me. One who treated me like a doormat and one who wanted what I had, weirdly enough. I walked in on them in our fucking bed and he gets mad at me, punching me full-force in the jaw. I barely reacted, I just knew I was done. When I say I barely reacted, it is a slight misjudgment of action. I picked up the nearest thing I could, my old sculpture of a heart I did my first week of art school and I hit him over the head with it.” I can only stifle a gasp, not sure where this was headed, but my interest was piqued tenfold at that moment.
“I hit him so hard that it knocked him out, and gave him a bit of brain damage as well. My Dad always told me that if a man raises his hands to a woman, she has every right to defend herself to whatever degree necessary. So, I did. And he never pressed charges against me. I doubt he even really remembers a lot of what he did. If he did, pressing charges would only shed light on the emotional abuse I suffered, so why bother?” She peeks at me for a second before continuing.
“I left that night. Never saw Britnee again either. And last I heard, Christopher was in rehab and quit art school. I was hospitalized soon after. I had gone to class for weeks after the incident until one day, I just stood up in class and started screaming and wouldn’t stop until EMTs were called and I was sedated. It was like my energy reserves were finally depleted. I had nothing left to hold onto. I was in the hospital for a week or two, medicated and getting therapy to deal with PTSD from being with a narcissistic lover and a terrible best friend. Until Nina and Sophia, I gave up on finding friends and letting people in. They still don’t know the details, but they know I had a bad breakup over a year ago. But I wanted to tell you the truth, I want you to know everything. So you can decide if I’m worth it.” She adds in the last sentence almost as a whisper.
“Where is Christopher now?” I coaxed, worried about her safety.
“Last I heard, and that was a year ago, he moved with his Dad back to Europe to be closer to his family. He still doesn’t remember what happened and I’m not sure I want him to.”
I place my hand on her cheek, ghosting over her warm skin. “Thank you for telling me. It means a lot to me that you would trust me with your past enough to bring me into the loop. And, please, believe me, this only makes me understand you more. It does not make me want to stop getting to know you.” She latches on to my hand where it rests on her cheek and locks eyes with me.
“Even after all I’ve said, you still want to be with me?” She chokes out, her armor cracking under the pressure of her truth.
“Of course I do, Princess. I, very much, still want to be with you. If you’ll let me,” I let go of her as she rounds the dining table and falls into my lap, crying her eyes out. “Shhh, I’m here, baby girl.” I cling to her in my arms, as tight as I can manage to try and convey that she is truly safe now.
I pick her up in my arms and carry her to the couch. I hold her in my lap and rest her head on my chest, running my thumb along her cheek as tears fall. “I’m right here, I’m not letting go.” I hum, rocking her back and forth in my arms.
“I…don’t like…seeming…weak,” she cries, still trying to hold onto a strong thread of her past.
“And you don’t seem weak. You are so strong for telling me. So strong. And I am so proud of you. Now, let me be strong for you, ok? You just reopened some old wounds and your body and spirit are going to need to rest. So let them. And I’ll be right here when you’re ready to talk again. I’m not going anywhere, Angel.” I kiss her forehead as she settles into me.
“You…wanted to…be intimate. I ruined it,” she whimpers, clutching my arms as I hold her tight.
“No, you didn’t ruin a thing. Don’t worry about that, my main concern is your safety and your comfort. You will never be alone as long as I’m here, I promise you that. Now, rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” I feel her body snuggle down and relax into me. 
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Kamaria’s POV
Tuesday Evening 
I awake late in the evening, still perched on Walter’s lap. His arms are still around me, his head tilted against the back of the couch. Soft snores escape his lips, his chest rising and falling in a comforting rhythm. I look at the clock on the bookshelf as it blinks at 9:27. The Bluetooth speaker now softly playing ‘Clair de Lune’. 
I look back to Walter as he shifts in his sleep, never letting me go. The serenity in which we sit contradicts our earlier conversation. I try and reconcile that I needed aftercare after speaking about my past relationship. I did lay it all out on the line, I’m actually not that surprised that my entire body needed a recharge.
I listen to the song float on to the ending and reach up to caress Walter’s face. He slowly smiles, eyes still closed, turning his head to kiss my palm.
“There’s my Angel,” he looks down at me, “How are you feeling?”
“Lighter, like a weight, has been lifted,” I sighed, placing my hand on his chest, “You’re the first person outside of my therapist to know about all this.”
“Thank you for letting me in, for trusting me with it,” he cooed, placing his hand over mine.
“For the record? I also like being called Angel, especially in this kind of setting,” I admit, not wanting to use the word and risk embarrassment.
“Do you mean especially during aftercare?” he soothed, no doubt reading my mind.
“Yes,” I mumble, cuddling into him, “and I really like to hear ‘Clair de Lune’. It helps to ground me.”
“Alright. I think I’ve got it. Hold you tight, call you Angel, and play your comfort song. We’ll add to the list if need be.” His sweet voice is truly a marvel to go along with his massive frame.
We look into each other’s eyes for a beat, leaning in at the same time to press our lips together. Not as passionate as earlier in the day, but it doesn’t need to be. This kiss is more of a tenderness than a need to thrill.
“I think I need to head home, I really am still quite tired and need to let you get rest,” I mutter, secretly hoping he doesn’t ask me to stay, not knowing whether or not I’m ready to stay.
“Yes, it is late. And I wouldn’t want you feeling too tired for work tomorrow,” he cautioned, lifting himself effortlessly with me still in his arms. He places me down on my feet and kisses my forehead. “I’ll walk you to your car, Princess.”
My tiny hand in his massive paw genuinely makes my heart flutter as we take our time to kiss goodbye, leaning against my car. I could kiss him until the sun rises, but instead, he pulls away and straightens my coat collar around my neck. I’m not used to being cared for and I think he can tell, but he still does the most anyway. Before he lets me go, he pulls off his sweater and shoves it in my hands, making me promise to text him when I get home. Did I just get a ‘boyfriend sweater’ shoved at me? 
I get home, immediately shedding layers in the bedroom and putting on his sweater, sending a quick text.
Me: Home now!
Walter Marshall: Is it weird I gave you a jumper and not a hoodie?
Me: It smells like you, I’ll take all the jumpers you wanna donate
Walter Marshall: You’re wearing it now aren’t you
Me: [image sent]
Walter Marshall: It suits you
Walter Marshall: Godddd those legs
Walter Marshall: Can’t wait to have them wrapped around me
Me: Around your shoulders or your hips?
Me: 😈
Walter Marshall: Both?
Walter Marshall: Both.
Walter Marshall: Both are good.
Me: Dork
Walter Marshall: You like this dork and he likes you back so what does that make you
Me: Seriously lucky 😇
Walter Marshall: Good. 
Walter Marshall: It’s late Princess
Walter Marshall: Ready for bed?
Me: Ready
Me: Cuddle me?
Walter Marshall: Always
Walter Marshall: Night Princess
Me: Night Sir
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A/N: It was touch and go there for a second, hope you enjoyed it!! 💜💙
Chapter 4
**Tag List**
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stonedstargazer666 · 2 years
Text
So I'm gonna be keeping a dream journal type thing, and posting the more interesting ones. So here is the first one. Please let me know what you think.
Sep 05, 2022
Isaac, TJ, and I were taking turns play zombies. Issac had just gotten a new place, and wanted us to spend the night. Knowing Issac, I knew there was something else. Just thinking about what else he had in mind, made my legs quiver. I quickly distracted myself, by looking at Facebook on my phone while TJ and him played. I felt eyes on me, casting a quick glance I saw that Isaac was staring at me. I started feeling warm, he knew. I saw him smirking at my reaction, pulling my knees to my chest. I watched TJ obliterate the hellhounds or whatever they are called, trying to ignore the looks Isaac was giving me.
After about five minutes since the last hellhound round, TJ finally was killed.
"Damn man! You did pretty good" Isaac said, I nodded.
" Yeah babe, that's the longest I've seen you survive by yourself." I said, relaxing. I slipped my legs into TJ's lap, and rested against the arm of the couch. In full view of Isaac, I smirked at him. TJ set the controller on the table, and leaned back. Talking to Isaac about something. I tuned them out, looking at my phone. Looking through Facebook, I relaxed more. Then I remembered I had my mod, and my disposable thc pen. I wanted to ask if I could smoke inside, but that was usually our sign. Biting my bottom lip, I sat there thinking about what to do.
"You ok raven?" Isaac asked, concerned. 'faker' I thought.
"Y-yeah" I said, looking him in the eyes. Raising my eyebrow.
"Was just wanted to smoke." I shrugged, looking back at my phone.
"Go for it, you don't even have to go outside." He said, I smiled.
"Well now I wanna go outside." I said getting up from the couch, and stretching.
Oh, you're actually going out?" TJ asked, I stopped.
"Umm maybe?" I asked, not knowing what to say.
"If it's ok with you, I'd rather stay inside." TJ said, I nodded.
"Yeah that's fine." I said, walking towards the door for my shoes.
"My mom wanted to talk for a few anyway." I said, bracing myself against the wall. Pulling on my shoes, and slipping into my jacket I gave myself a final check to make sure I had everything. I looked back to see that TJ had picked up the controller ready to play another game. I shot Isaac a quick glance, raising my eyebrow when he looked at me.
'he says that he's manipulative, and he's proved that multiple times to me already…' I thought to myself, making my way to his apartment complexes smoking area.
I got my mod out, and took a few hits. Texting my mom instead of calling, I didn't want her to even find out what was going on. Or how long it's been going on for that matter. I took out my disposable thc pen and took a hit. It didn't matter if I was sober or stoned. My body reacted just the same. Submissive. I was lost in thought, when I vaguely heard someone walking behind me. The walking stopped right behind me, a small chill running down my spine. Deciding to ignore the presence, I unlocked my phone to answer my mom's text. I felt hands slowly, and firmly grip my hips.
'damn I knew I should've sit down!' I yelled mentally. I tried ignoring it, and kept texting my mom. I felt the hands slide up underneath my jacket and shirt. Gripping my waist. An involuntary squeak left my lips, I tried to cover it with a cough. But it was too late.
" Put your stuff down, now." He said, from behind me. Rubbing up against my ass, I could feel how hard he was. I wriggled out of his grasp, and walked to the nearest table to set my stuff down. I kept my hands on the table, steadying my breathing. I felt him come up behind me, one hand on my hip the other up between my shoulders. Pushing me down, until my cheek rested on the tabletop.
"Keep your hands where they are, and keep your mouth shut." He growled in my left ear, knowing that I couldn't hear well in that ear. But I could feel the vibration from his voice. I shuddered and nodded. Biting my bottom lip, I felt him rubbing through my leggings. I let out a small whimper, I knew how this was going down. Isaac was going to rile me up, and then leave. Leaving me to calm down as much as I can, then he'll continue to tease until he can see an opportunity to get inside of me.
He had heard the whimper, and the hand between my shoulders pushed down a little. Causing me to gasp through my nose, biting my lip harder.
"Stay down" he said, pulling his hand away. I nodded, the table lightly scratching my cheek. I kept my hands on the table, and closed my eyes. Isaac pulled my legs apart, and pulled my leggings down just a little bit. My thighs shook with anticipation, I heard him chuckle.
" My my, someone is excited.." he trailed off, one of his hands reached around slipping into my pants. His hand made it's way to my clit, slowly making circles. My eyes snapped open, as my body tensed.
"God, Raven you are soaked. Lucky for you these are black. But there are puddles around, and I had the foresight to bring an extra pair of pants for you." He whispered in my ear, I nodded. He continued to rub my clit, and rubbed his hard on against my ass.
"You're staying the night, I'll have more time to tease you. But for now, I'm going to fuck you. Reward you for being such a good girl, and acting normal around TJ." Isaac grunted, I let out a soft breathy moan. It was barely a whisper.
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what-i-call-men · 3 years
Text
Jiggle physics
Jeff Pfister x female!reader
Warnings: SMUT, dominant reader, sub Jeff, some degradation towards Jeff, a bit of voyeurism at the end (reader finds out mutt saw the whole thing)
Request: My fic thought for the night (up for grabs) but it’s Jeff pfister. Reader is a dancer/instructor and Jeff studies her for “jiggle physics”. Thought is definitely a smut
One again I am stealing a picture from @copy-of-a-cheeto because I love the icons they make. Thank you!!
Also thank you to @divineruler for proof reading
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It was another day for you to begin with. You were working at a small gym in town after your other job hadn't really worked out. You were freshly graduated from college and needed somewhere to work while you looked for other opportunities, a gym was your best option. Now you weren't an avid gym person, but you did enjoy dancing so you ended up instructing a Zumba class. It was more of a hip hop class because your gym was right near a college town, and early 00s Spanish didn't reach college kids as much as hip hop and rap music.
This week you had specifically scheduled a dirty Thursday class, uncensored music and a lot of confidence boosting music. You were doing your last few songs, pushing everyone to their "sexy limits" as you put it. You had stripped off your tank top, now just in your sports bra and leggings. When you were stripping off your top, you had a few of your regulars whistle or cheer, some even joining you as they knew the choreography. You ended your last high energy song and started your cool downs, opting to leave the shirt off as you were definitely sweating right now.
The slow sounds of Just the two of Us by Grover Washington jr played through the speakers as you instructed your class to stretch out. As you faced them, you couldn't help but catch a glance of blonde hair from outside the glass doors to the room. It looked familiar but you couldn't put your finger on it as you continued your instruction. After you finished your cool down, you moved to gather your things as some of the students chatted with you. One of your best friends had walked out to run to the locker room and came back, running up to you and pinching your arm a bit. "You'll never guess who is outside looking for you." She whispered so others wouldn't hear.
Turning to her you rubbed the now pained part of your arm and raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Um I don't know, Ryan Reynolds ready to sweep me off my feet?" You asked and reached down to pick up your gym bag and tank top, choosing to toss it in the bag rather than putting it on. Your friend followed you out of the classroom with the rest of the remaining class. "No, it's fucking Jeff and Mutt from high school." She whispered and nodded to the front desk where they stood, talking to a receptionist. You looked at them for a second.
"And they have those same dumb haircuts from when they were 12." You choked back a quiet laugh as you approached the front desk. Mutt saw you first and then elbowed Jeff to look up at you. "Hey boys, long time no see." You said and walked up to the pair, holding out your membership card to the front desk people to clock you out. "What warrants such an abrupt visit from the resident horny weeb club." You said and led the boys out, your friend keeping a close distance behind the group.
"Hey y/n, can we talk to you alone? We have a job offer for you?" Mutt said and glanced at your friend. You stopped outside the gym and nodded to your friend to go to the car you shared. "What job could you two possibly have for me? Last I heard you guys were just trolling random people online and spam liking my Instagram pictures." You said and crossed your arms. You weren't really friends with the two in high school, but you did have a friendly teasing relationship with them, rather than really making fun of them like others did. You were really only nice because you never knew who'd end up going crazy, and you'd rather not be on someone's shit list.
"We recently ran into... a lot of money. And we wanted to hire you at our robotics company." Jeff said and gestured excitedly at you. He definitely was on something from the way he had a shake to his hands. "Uh... you two know I majored in archeology? I don't know the first thing past how to google." You said and looked mainly at Jeff. God if he didn't have that stupid haircut still, you'd be tempted to say he got hot. He's got a pretty good body and he looked pretty good in comparison to Mutt. It would help him a lot if he didn't still dress and look like he was 12.
"We're aware. It has nothing to do with your degree. Here, this is what you'd make if you come to work for us." Mutt grabbed a card from his pocket and a pen that hung from your bag pocket. When he handed you the paper you had to blink at the numbers for a second. "Annually?" "Weekly" Jeff corrected your question. You stared at the paper for a second. "How do I know you guys aren't just high or something? How'd you even find me?" You asked and Mutt and Jeff looked at each other before Jeff grabbed his keys from his pocket. He clicked the unlock button and a Rolls Royce beeped from where it was parked only a few spots away from where you stood. "If you're interested come pay us a visit." Mutt pointed at the business card he had handed you and the two walked to the car before you could say anything.
When you got home of course you researched the company name on the card. Kineros Robotics had made actual headlines and pictures of the men were on different sites about their sudden influx of money to their company from a generous anonymous donation. You glanced at the card and pursed your lips before pulling up Instagram, going to Jeff's page, glancing at the pictures he's posted and biting your lip. God you could really tell he was either still a virgin or very submissive in some sense. He wasn't like any of the gym bros that hit on you or messaged you. With a small surge of courage, you hit the 'message' button and typed out a quick text.
After messaging back and forth about the job opportunity for about two days, you found yourself standing outside the main entrance to the robotics lab. You walked down the hall to see glass doors and just a buzzer. You buzzed and were quickly let in. "You guys should get a receptionist or someth-" your words were cut off when you saw what was really in the room. There were humanoid robot figures and a lot of latex parts just laying around. A lot of these parts were tits or asses, all different shapes and sizes but there seemed to be something off with all of them.
"Hey I'm glad you made it. You can set yourself up in the room over there." Mutt said as he stared down at his computer. The room was all white, some windows around but pretty much all of them had shade covering them with little to no light peeking through. There was a pile of white powder sitting at each desk. Oh so they were coked out and making sex dolls. What the actual fuck did this have to do with you? "Set my stuff up...?" You asked softly and Jeff stood from his desk to lead you to the room.
"I didn't tell you what you were here for?" He asked as he opened the door to the next room. You shook your head and looked at the hardwood floor and speaker set up. "We need you to be a model. See... our last few latex prints came out... less than desirable- jiggle wise. Our math was way off and we need these to be as real as possible." Jeff said and walked to a small cabinet in the corner of the room. "I need you to put this on so we can monitor your motions to make our robots more realistic." He said and handed you what was barely any cloth. It looked like those dotted suits superheroes wore so their suits could be cgi but instead of a suit it was a bikini top and what is pretty much a skimpy pair of bottoms that were basically bathing suit bottoms with how little they covered.
"Jeff, you didn't mention this." You said and took the clothes slowly as he headed back out to the door. "Just put those on and I'll be back in a few." He said and glanced over your body again quickly before closing the door. You decided to send a quick text to your best friend- just a "here's what I'm doing in case I get murdered" text. After that you slipped the clothes on and stared at yourself in the mirror beside the little cabinet. You could tell this was a makeshift dance room. That was probably what they were looking for. Good thing jiggle physics was your thing in class.
Jeff came back a couple minutes later with a laptop in his hands. He stopped and gulped when he looked over your body in the skimpy outfit, quickly opting to sit on the ground as he monitored the points on the laptop. "Go ahead." He said and positioned the laptop on his lap, having to adjust himself a bit a couple of times. "Jeff... I need music." You said and moved to grab your phone, nodding to the speaker system, him shrugging and letting you do so. As you leaned over the speaker you glanced in the mirror beside you and he was very much staring right at your ass. God if he wasn't such a virgin you'd probably be disgusted. That was probably why they didn't know the right jiggle physics for a woman's body.
You started playing some of your best twerk music, trying to shake off how weird it was to have just Jeff staring at his computer then back to you as you danced. You tried to just close your eyes and get into the choreography as you ignored the awkwardness of Jeff obviously having a boner and you just twerking for him to collect data. You did a few hip swirls and then some quick shakes, glancing at yourself in the mirror. Honestly as you looked you didn't realize you had given Jeff a perfect look of your ass. He ran a hand through his hair as the song began to wrap up. You went to your phone to change the song and decided to strike up a small conversation.
"So… are you getting good data?" You asked and just got a simple nod from Jeff, his stupidly cute bowl cut bobbing back and forth as he nodded. "So you're making sex robots huh?" You asked as you looked through your playlist nonchalantly bending over a bit to give Jeff a good view of your chest. He once again responded with a nod as you started the next song. It was a bit more sexy than the last one. "Why don't you monitor the jiggle physics of sex then?" You asked as you lowered the volume of the song, starting your choreography, which included some moves where you're on the ground, shaking and bouncing as if you were riding someone. "I'm sure they are more accurate than me dancing." You said as you pushed yourself down to the ground chest first with your ass up and facing Jeff.
He adjusted a bit and you moved yourself a bit closer to where he was seated as he chose not to answer you. "If you want more accurate results Jeff, you need the jiggle physics of sex." You stated and gently moved the computer off his lap, placing it on the ground as you gently moved to straddle his legs. "The reason you and Mutt can't get the math right is because you need to really experience a woman's body during sex and neither of you could rope in a girl to fuck you for science. Am I right?" You asked Jeff as you leaned into him, settling yourself on his lap. His face was so red as his eyes kept flicking from your chest to your face. He just nodded silently to your question.
"Jeff, I'm gonna need you to verbally respond to me. I want to hear you say it." You said and ran your hands from his shoulders and down his chest. He took a deep shaky breath. "Fu- I need you to fuck me for science." He said softly and looked up to you as you tutted at him.
"No honey, the other thing." You said and pushed your fingers under the hem of his shirt. He gulped and took in another breath. "I can't get anyone to fuck me. Please y/n I need you." He pretty much whimpered under you as you pushed up to the balls of your feet, leaning forward and beginning to shake your ass a bit from where you sat on his lap. You rolled your hips slowly forwards and pushed your chest against his, leaning up next to his ear. "That's better." You whispered and then left a small wet kiss under his ear. Slowly working down his neck in small wet kisses and sucks.
You could feel his body tense as you reached down between you and gently palmed at him. God you could tell how hard he was without looking. You smirked a bit and continued to suck small hickies on his neck and under his ear as you quickly undid his button and fly, grabbing his dick from his boxers. Wow if you would've known he was packing you probably would've slept with him in high school, but everyone just assumed he wasn't and that was why he didn't get girls. You pumped him slowly and you could hear him let out small moans and whimpers, wanting to stay quiet on the off chance Mutt heard over the music.
As you pumped him you gently bit his earlobe to get his attention. "If you wanna get inside me baby, you gotta help me out." You said quietly and he nodded and willingly let you take his hands and place them on your ass. He gave a small gentle squeeze and you smirked as you felt him twitch in your hand. "God... fuck... holy shit..." he muttered as you rolled your hips against his thighs, wanting to at least stimulate yourself a little bit.
"You wanna make sure my monitoring is ok baby?" You whispered and he glanced over at the laptop, still reading the outfit you wore. You grabbed his cock again, now moving yourself to push your bottoms to the side. Slowly sinking down on to him, you could've sworn Jeff came right then. And he did. But that wasn't going to stop you from helping him out for the 'sake of science'. You grabbed his hands and placed them on your waist so as to not interfere with his readings. Slowly you began to bounce on him, feeling all parts of your body begin to bounce. Jeff was letting out the most sinful noises. Honestly it sounded like he only knew what moaning was from women in porn, but you didn't mind- honestly it was hot to have him be so responsive.
"Oh baby you're gonna be too loud, Mutt might interrupt us and you wouldn't want that would you? Don't want him to find you moaning like a whore for me." You said lowly as you reached up to gently squeeze his throat. He closed his mouth and nodded at you as you continued to bounce on him. God you could tell how close he was to coming again, but lord knows you weren't done with him. His moans got quieter but he still let out small whines from below you. You reached down to rub your own clit as you bounced on top of him. "Fuck baby, you wanna fuck me so bad? How about you get that data you need by pounding me from behind?" You muttered and climbed off of him.
He barely questioned you when you did so, only whining a little at the loss of contact. As you turned around and got on your knees, pushing your ass up in the air, he quickly moved to his own knees, pushing into you and beginning to thrust at a rapid pace. You could definitely tell his knowledge of sex is from video games and porn because he kinda went wild. He pounded hard and you couldn't help but moan out as he grabbed your waist with a tight grip. After he got a hang on his speed, he reached forwards and pulled you up, pushing you against the mirrored wall he had been leaning against, he paused momentarily to undo the bikini top, and as soon as it dropped to the ground he was grabbing your tits from behind.
You pushed back against him, your face now pushed against the foggy mirror as he thrusted into you hard. "Fuck.... fuck y/n." He grunted out quietly as his thrust became more sporadic and sloppy. You could tell he was gonna come again, so you reached behind your head and grabbed his hair firmly. "You're not coming again until I cum. You fucking hear me?" You groaned as he continued to thrust into you. He nodded and reached around in front of you, fumbling for your clit for a moment before you corrected his hand placement and showed him the correct movement. He rubbed quickly and in pace with his thrusts, you could tell from his look in the mirror that he was trying so hard not to cum.
As soon as you finally reached the edge, you let out a loud and pretty pornographic moan of his name mixed with some swearing and praises. "God... fuck Jeff you feel so good in me. I want you to cum baby. I want you to cum in me baby." You thrusted back on him and kept your hand firmly tugging at his hair. It was only seconds before he was coming in you, his own face twisted in pleasure as you looked at him through the mirror. He slowed to a stop and slowly removed himself from you. You only caught your breath for a couple moments before there was a knock on the door.
"Hey those were good readings, we're gonna need you here again tomorrow so we can get some other position readings." Mutt called through the door. You looked at Jeff. "Could he see the reading the whole time?" You asked Jeff quietly. He bit his lips and nodded. "I assumed you knew because you saw this room through the glass when you walked in." Jeff said and pointed to the mirror which was in fact a one way mirror you had seen walking in from the lab, which you falsely assumed was a window because of the shade. "So mutt saw the whole thing?" You asked softly, slowly piecing everything together. Jeff nodded, scared you were gonna be upset. You only shrugged and reached over to gently grab his throat again. "Guess now he knows how good of a whore you are for me then." And god if he hadn't just come, Jeff probably would've come again from that action alone. Damn you were gonna have fun working here.
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downondilaudid · 4 years
Text
Not Just a Genius
This is a third part to Anatomy Lesson, second part to Secret Sex Buddy.
Requested: Yes
Prompts: None
Word Count: 5.2K
Warnings: Smut of course
“Never hide things from hardcore thinkers. They get more aggravated, more provoked by confusion than the most painful truths.”
― Criss Jami
You walked into work, your steps slightly slower than usual. You and Spencer had, let's call it a late night. Spencer had spent the night but took his own car to work to not raise any suspicion. You had arrived first, actually early for once, you assumed Spencer had stopped to get coffee. He had woken you up early this morning, horny as hell, forcing you to give him a blowjob, after that neither of you could go to sleep. You pulled out your phone getting ready to send him a text. 
Y/N: You better be bringing me some coffee. 
You stuffed your phone into your back pocket. “Gasp, is the one and only Y/N Y/L walking like she had some hot sexy time last night?” A voice teased from behind you. 
You let out a mix between a laugh and a scoff, “really, Pen?” 
She giggled, “oh please, you don’t need to be a profiler to tell you had a good time. So, who is this sex genius, do we know him?”
That’s one way to put it, you thought to yourself. You set your stuff down at your desk, Penelope hovering over you like a bee. 
“Don’t worry about it, Pen. You don’t know him.” You answered.
“Know who?” Another voice chimed in. 
You turned, seeing Spencer walk over to your desk, a drink carrier filled with two coffees in his hand. Before you could answer, Garcia took the opportunity to poke more fun at you. 
“Y/N’s supposed sex genius she was with last night. No girl walks like that unless she’s had a wild night.”
“Garcia!” You groaned out, running your hands over your face. 
“Oh, please, it’s only Spencer!” She laughed, before patting you on the head and bouncing off to her computer room. 
Spencer watched Garcia walk away, before turning back to you, “sex genius, huh?” He questioned, a smirk on his face.
“Her words, not mine.” You teased, grabbing your coffee from the carrier, taking a sip of the warm liquid.
Spencer rested his hand on your desk, leaning over you slightly, “hmm, so you don’t think I’m a sex genius, sweetheart?” His voice was low and teasing, a beautiful sound to hear in the morning. 
“I-uh, Spencer we’re at work!” 
“Please, baby? I really need you.” Spencer whined.
You rolled your eyes, turning in your chair so you were facing him directly, “go take care of yourself in the bathroom.” 
Spencer leaned in closer, his plump lip catching on his teeth, “please, sweetheart. Just suck me off real quick, we can go down to the file room. Remember last time we were there?” He leaned in once more so his lips were next to your ear, his next words came out in a low whisper, “you had such a hard time keeping quiet for me.” He brought his hand up, running it over your bottom lip. “I need you, baby.” 
Ugh, he knew exactly what buttons to push, he knew exactly what to do to get you to break. Luckily, your brain overpowered your body, and you pushed him back lightly, “no, Spence. We’re at work, you can fuck me later. Garcia’s already suspicious, and JJ already knows.” 
Spencer groaned lightly, he knew you were right, he was just too horny to accept it. 
Turns out Spencer would have to wait a while, you had a case. A case that took place in Austin, Texas, three men had turned up dead, all with the same M.O.
You took a step back, a finger placed against your chin in concentration. You and JJ were putting together a victim board, and so far you could only tell that these three men were all very openly gay. 
“They were all taken from different gay bars, the only connection is that they’re gay.” You stated.
“We’ll see what Garcia can find about their lives. It’s not against their sexuality. All unnecessary  wounds were done post-mortem, they either didn’t want to hurt them or are trying to make some sort of statement.” Hotch deciphered. 
You nodded along. 
You were talking to one of the officers, who, unfortunately, was being extremely unprofessional. He was making sexual jokes left and right, alluding to how “good he’d bet you’d be in bed.” It was revolting, you didn’t even know this man. 
“You’re sure this is all the gay bars in the area?” You questioned, pointing to a list of bars he had handed you. 
“That I know of, babydoll. Granted, I’m not gay.” He stated, adding a wink to the end of his statement. 
You cringed, trying your best to keep up a professional act, “alright, thank you.” 
He smirked at you, nodding his head, “anytime, doll, and I do mean anytime.”
You turned away rolling your eyes as you brought the list to Hotch, this case better be over quickly, you thought. 
Apparently, luck was on your side, the case had ended quickly. Apparently, a man had been frequenting these bars, picking out the most flamboyant men, killing them for media attention to bring awareness of the struggles the LGBTQ+ community goes through. His brother had recently taken his own life, due to avid bullying from his peers because of his homosexuality. 
The case was overall disturbing, and you couldn’t wait to get to the hotel and take a nice warm bath. 
You were clad in a towel, waiting for the bath to fill up, when a knock sounded through the room. You let out a sigh, praying that this conversation wouldn’t take away your warm bath. 
You peeked through the peephole, you could only see a torso, clad in a blazer, button-down shirt, and a tie. You unlocked the door, pulling it open to peek your head out. 
“What do you want, Spence? It’s late” 
He placed his hand against the door, pushing it open and slipping in. His eyes were dark, and filled with desire. “I saw that officer flirting with you earlier.” 
You groaned, “everyone did. It was so obvious.” Your hand tightened the towel on your body, walking into the bathroom to turn off the running faucet. You leaned over the side of the tub, your towel riding up your thighs.
Spencer hummed in approval behind you, one of his hands brushing gently up your thigh. “Why didn’t you stop him if it was so obvious?”
“I was trying to be professional, Spencer. A lot of women get hit on, we just choose to brush it off.” You reasoned. A yelp escaped your mouth when a hand yanked on your hair, the towel falling from your body onto the side of the tub. Spencer pulled you up, his clothed hips rocking into your bare ass. 
“Spencer” you sighed breathily, squirming lightly in his grip. 
He ignored you, his hands grabbing your elbows to pull you harder against him as he ground into you. “You know you’re mine, right?”
You nodded meekly, pressing your ass back against his crotch. “Please, just do something, Spence.” 
“I want to hear you say it, say you’re mine.” He whispered. Despite the two of you being unofficial, you were unofficially official. This was his way of letting you know, communicating through rough kisses and late nights, that the two of you were indeed exclusive. 
“I’m yours” you muttered, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt him pepper kisses over your neck, working his way down to your shoulder blades. 
“Bend over the tub.” He commanded, grabbing your hair and pushing your head forward, you stumbled to your knees, crying out at the pain. His hand released your hair, digging into your hips, he shoved you forward so the front of your thighs hit the tub. 
You yelped once more, shooting your hand out into the warm water to keep yourself from falling headfirst into the bath. “Spencer, fuck” you groaned out.
He chuckled behind you, before landing a sharp slap to your ass. Your body jolted forward at the impact, a low moan falling from your lips. Spencer laughed, a genuine laugh, “you like that, baby? You like it when I mark your pretty little ass?” His hand came crashing down again, this time harder. 
You choked on a moan, your ribs digging painfully into the side of the tub. His hand rubbed the soft flesh of your ass, trailing down the back of your thighs and back up. 
A gasp left your lips as his hand dipped into your folds, sliding up and down slowly. “You’re so wet for me… how pathetic.” 
You whimpered lightly, trying to push yourself back onto his hand. You felt so amazingly filthy at that moment, his words should’ve hurt, they should’ve humiliated you, but instead, they only made you wetter. His hand retreated, “oh, no, no, sweet girl. You’ll get what I want when I want.” Spencer chided.
He loved seeing you like this, he loved making you like this, so desperate to be fucked. It made sense when you really thought about it, he was quite submissive in his workplace and dominating you gave him that authority that he craved.
His large hand crashed down onto your backside, and you yelped at the stinging, “shit!” One of your arms reached out of the water, grabbing onto the other side of the tub. You jolted forward as Spencer continued his assault on your backside, alternating between cheeks. 
Mewls and moans escaped your mouth, you tried your hardest to keep them in, praying you wouldn’t alert the team. The worst thing that could happen is someone coming to check on you and finding you naked, bent over the side of the tub, with Spencer at your backside.
“You look so pretty with my handprints all over your ass.” He muttered, his hands running over the soft flesh, kneading it ever so often. 
You hummed lightly at his words, subconsciously pushing back into his grip. A low chuckle left his mouth, you felt him lean over your back, his hard-on pressing up against your ass. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck, and his hand ran up your back to tug on your hair. Your arm bracing itself against the tub fell back into the water as your head was jerked back. “Are you ready for me to fuck you?” 
“Yes, yes, daddy.” It took every ounce of strength you had to resist pushing back against him. “Please, please-” you were cut off by a shriek as Spencer's hand smacked your ass once again. 
“I don’t think you are.” He teased, his fingers trailing up and down the burning flesh of your ass.
A moan left your mouth, not able to hold back, you pushed back against him, begging for friction. Spencer’s hand yanked so hard on your hair you were pulled from the tub, and onto your sore knees. Spencer’s breath was heavy against your ear as he whispered, “I’m starting to think you’re deaf with how much you’re disobeying.”
You whimpered lightly, “sorry, I’m sorry.” Despite your words, you rolled your hips, grinding your sore ass into his pelvis. 
Spencer growled at the friction, sighing angrily through his nose, “fine,” his hand released your hair, roughly grabbing your arms, he pinned them together behind your back with one hand. “You want to cum so bad? You’re going to cum.” 
Two of his fingers filled your pussy quickly, rubbing against your walls. “Fuck!” You cried, your head dropping forward with a strangled moan. Spencer’s hand holding your arms shoved forward, digging your ribs into the side of the tub.
“You’re going to cum on my fingers, again, and again, until I decide I want to fuck you.” He spat, his fingers curling as his hand picked up speed. 
Your back arched as your orgasm neared. Moans and mantras of Spencer’s name tumbling from your lips. “Spencer, Spencer-fuck, daddy.” 
He chuckled in your ear, his fingers working impossibly faster, “cum, cum on my finger.” 
A flash of white filled your vision, your eyes squeezed shut. Shivers ran up your spine, and your head tilted back with a moan. Spencer’s fingers didn’t stop their relentless pace, working you through your orgasm. 
“Hmm… again.” Spencer commanded, stopping momentarily to add a third finger. You groaned, leaning forward to try and escape the overstimulation. But, Spencer’s grip on your arms tightened, pulling your back onto his fingers. “Shit!” You yelled, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. The obscene sounds of his fingers working in and out of your went cunt filled the room. 
“Are you going to cum? You going to cum all over my fingers?” Spencer questioned, as his fingers brushed against your g-spot. 
Your thighs shook around his hand, groaning as your second orgasm coursed through your body. “Fuck-daddy, yes!” A sob tore through your mouth, your vocal cords strained and raw, all thoughts of the team completely disregarded. 
“Good girl” Spencer praised, his fingers slowing as you came down from your high. 
You panted, your shoulders aching from the grip Spencer had on your arms. “Please, please fuck me.” 
“With my fingers? Since you asked so nicely.” Spencer teased, a fourth finger prodding at your entrance. 
“No! No, no, your cock!” You cried, genuine tears flowing down your face. 
“That’s not what you said,” he whispered, as he pushed his fourth finger into you, stretching your walls. 
You screamed, thrashing in his grasp, “Spencer, fuck-fuck.” You were delirious, mind completely clouded with a suffocating lust. It was like you and Spencer were the only two humans on planet earth, the only beings that mattered. 
“One more and I’ll give you my cock” Spencer groaned out in your ear, his own primal lust beginning to take over. 
Broken cries of his name were the only words you managed to say as your third orgasm consumed you, the pressure building in your stomach finally being released. 
“There you go” Spencer praised, pulling his hand from your cunt, as your juices ran down your thighs. 
“Spence-I can’t” you whimpered out, your thighs still shaking from your orgasms. 
Shuffling could be heard from behind you, followed by clothes rustling and the distinct sound of a zipper. “I didn’t ask if you could, you’re going to, baby.” 
He released his hold on your arms, and your body fell forward once more, arms just barely catching yourself from plummeting headfirst into the tub. The head of his cock brushed against your sensitive cunt, and Spencer’s hands grabbed onto your hips, sharply tugging you back onto him. 
You let out a loud scream, the pain and pleasure blending together to form a sweet bliss. “Fuck” you moaned, his hands helping to guide your hips back to his. 
“Fuck, that's it, Y/N” Spencer moaned, adjusting his grip on your hips, the sheen layer of sweat on your bodies causing them to slip. 
Spencer’s hips slammed into your bruised ass, the sound of his skin colliding with yours echoing throughout the bathroom. Your knees were definitely going to be a pretty shade of pink tomorrow. 
Then, strangely, all of the sensations were gone, Spencer had scooted away from you, leaving you empty and used. “Spence what the fu-ah!” 
As you were about to question him, his hands dug into your hips again, yanking you away from the tub. Your arms slipped from the tub, falling to the floor. Before you could get out another word, Spencer’s hand was on the back of your head, gripping your hair. He pushed your head down, causing your arms to collapse, leaving your ass in the air, and the side of your face squished against the cool tile. 
A sob tore through your chest as you felt him fill you once more, and your nails scratched against the tile, searching for something to hold onto. Spencer growled into your ear, lust possessing his body as he pounded into you viciously. You had no clue how you were going to be able to walk tomorrow without arousing suspicion. 
                                                            … 
When you thought of the jet, you thought of peace, it was the calm after the storm. After seeing the horrors of your job, it was pure tranquility to gaze out the window at the blue sky and feel the slight bumps as you ascended through the clouds. 
“You okay, Y/L?” Derek asked from beside you. 
“Hmm?” You said, his deep voice pulling you from your pensive state.
His brows furrowed at you, his head tilting slightly. 
“Oh, yeah, I’m good. I was just looking at the clouds.” 
Derek nodded, starting to pull the headphones hanging around his neck back up to his ears. 
“Did you guys hear that couple last night?” Emily chimed in.
Your breath hitched in your throat, and it took all of your willpower to not shoot a glare at Spencer, but you knew that would only arouse suspicion. 
“Yeah, they were… loud.” JJ said, and you could feel her blue orbs bearing into you. Shit
“Someone was getting some.” Derek chuckled. 
Emily and JJ laughed along, and you took this as your opportunity to gaze up at Spencer, seeing his nose stuffed in a book, eyes speedily scanning the pages. The title definitely wasn’t written in English. 
Spencer’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, one of his eyebrows quirked in a questioning manner. You quickly looked at your lap, like a schoolgirl who had been caught staring at her crush.
“Speaking of, Penelope told me you’ve found some sort of sex genius, Y/N” Emily teased, leaning forward slightly. 
“Ooooh, now I’m listening,” Derek said, turning his attention to you. 
Your eyes darted to JJ, a nervous smile on your face, “he’s not a sex genius, he’s just a guy I met.”
“Oh, so there definitely is someone,” Derek concluded with a laugh. 
You groaned, “I’m going to kill Penelope.”
They chuckled at your statement before Emily spoke up “he must be good if he’s hindering your ability to walk into work.”  
A blush crept onto your face as the three of them erupted into a fit of laughter, you hid your face in your hands, sighing in annoyance. If only they knew said “sex genius” was sitting five feet away from them. 
“Leave Y/N alone.” A gruff voice spoke, a small smile on Hotch’s face as he walked by.
“Thank you!” You screeched, your hand gesturing to him. 
“Did Hotch just smile?” JJ asked, a giggle in her voice.
                                                             … 
You dragged your sore body into your apartment, lazily tossing your keys onto the kitchen counter. The case wasn’t horribly rough, as mild as murder can get. But, Spencer was definitely rough, not that you disliked it. 
You stripped off your blouse, throwing it in the laundry bin, working on your pants next, which you had worn due to your bruised knees. Right as you were about to unclip your bra, a knock sounded from the front door. 
A groan could be heard throughout the room as you trudged to the door, eye peeking into the peephole. Another groan escaped your mouth at the sight of Spencer, you begrudgingly unlocked the door, pulling it open.
“Spencer, what the hell? I’m still sore, and tired.” You complained, turning on your heel to walk back inside. 
Spencer followed, his eyes trailing you like a predator to prey, he leaned leisurely against the counter, his arms crossed. “I never really punished you for letting that officer flirt with you.” He voiced aloud. 
You rolled your eyes, turning to face him, your hands planted sassily on your hips, “seriously you wouldn’t call dicking me down with my face against the floor a punishment?” 
Spencer laughed, a smirk dawning his face, “hardly” his head tilted slightly watching as you shifted your weight in discomfort. 
You weren’t uncomfortable with him, per se, but rather, how vulnerable you felt. You stood, clad in a lacey bra and panties, and he stood, fully clothed, just watching you.  
“C’ mere,” he said, gesturing with his hand. You complied, walking towards him with an awkward shyness. His hand brushed some stray hair from your face, tucking it securely behind your ear. “You’re such a pretty girl, you know that?” 
A shiver washed through your body at his touch, his fingertips trailing lightly down the side of your face, and to your shoulder, playing with the strap of your bra. “Y/N” he started, his hand grazing between the valley of your breasts. “You know that right?” He questioned, his tone more assertive than before. 
You bit down on your lip lightly, nodding your head. His hand trailed back up your chest, curling under the strap of your bra, and in one sharp tug, he had pulled you to his chest, growling lowly in your ear. “Then you understand why I’m not fond of you allowing men to flirt with you, thinking they have a chance with you?” 
Each sharp breath you took pushed your chest even further into his, eyes bearing up at him. He released your bra strap, resting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you away from him. “Then, make it up to me.”
You grabbed onto his arm, steadying yourself as you dropped to your knees. You reached out, beginning to unbuckle his belt, before his hand grabbed yours, halting your movement. “Ah, ah, bra off first.” He teased, his own hands finishing unbuckling his belt. His lust-filled eyes watched as you reached behind your back, unclasping your bra, and sliding it off your shoulders. 
He hummed in approval, and his hand reached into his slacks, pushing them down slightly as he pulled out his hard cock. His head fell back with a groan as you quickly wrapped your lips around the head, your pointer finger running up the vein on the underside. 
He let you tease, surprisingly, and his hand laced in your hair, pulling some of it out of your face. “Fuck” he muttered breathlessly. 
You moaned lightly around him, taking more of him into your mouth, hand wrapping around what you couldn’t fit. Spencer groaned, his brows knitting together, as his hand applied pressure to the back of your head, forcing you down on him. 
You let your hand fall from his length, placing it at the back of his thigh to brace yourself. You breathed steadily through your nose, suppressing your gag reflex as you took him deeper. His hand stopped, grabbing a fist full of your hair, and pulling your head back. 
“That’s it, baby, show me how sorry you are.” His words seemed to ignite something in you, the grip on his thigh tightened, and you bobbed your head along his length. Spencer moaned at the feeling of your lips around him, yanking back on your hair, causing you to gag slightly. “Good girl” he praised, and a muffled whimper escaped your mouth. 
You pulled back, slower this time, letting your tongue run along his cock. “Hmm… you want me to cum in your mouth or your cunt?” Spencer asked, pulling your head off his cock, saliva dribbling down from the corners of your mouth.
“Cum in my pussy, please?” You begged, both of your hands pressed against his thighs, begging at his feet like a puppy. 
Spencer smiled down at you, one of his hands stroking your face affectionately. “Okay, sweetheart.” His hands grabbed yours, helping you to your feet. Once you were upright, one of his strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him for a soft kiss. You hummed lightly, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “Bedroom, I want you to ride me.”
You grinned at him, giddily grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hall. 
He stepped in first, pushing off his blazer, his hands beginning to unbutton his dress shirt, “you going to help me?”
“Of course, daddy” you replied, stepping forward to work on his pants while he took off his shirt. 
A dreamy sigh left your throat as you watched Spencer clamber onto the bed, turning to prop himself up against the pillows. Quickly, you shed your panties, not bothering to look at the obvious wet patch. “Ride daddy,” Spencer said, his hands folded behind his head. 
You crawled onto the bed, stopping next to Spencer, about to throw a leg over him, when his hand grabbed your hip, stopping you. Your brows knitted in confusion, “Spene-” 
“Wrong way, sweet girl.” Spencer smirked at you.
Your jaw dropped, “Spencer, please, I want to see you” you groaned out.
He chuckled at your whining, his hand pointing forward as he spoke, “you will, baby. And I get to see your pretty little ass.” Your gaze followed his hand, jaw dropping even further when you saw what he was pointing to. Your vanity mirror. 
“Okay” you replied meekly, turning your body towards the mirror and crawling over his lap. His hands met your hips, helping you onto him. 
One of Spencer’s hands left your hip, using it to guide his cock up and down your cunt. “Fuck” you moaned, your hands digging into the soft flesh of Spencer’s bare thighs. “Please, daddy, ple-fuck!” You cried as his cock slipped into you. You ground your hips down onto him, moaning as your walls dragged along his length. 
“Such a good girl” Spencer growled, one hand on your hip, and the other coming down to smack your ass. You shrieked, your hips working faster, your gaze fell onto the mirror, watching as your tits bounced and Spencer’s cock disappeared inside you. You moaned at the sinful sight, you didn’t think watching yourself fuck could be so erotic, but guess you were wrong. 
“You love this don’t you, baby? Such a slut for me, love watching you ride me.” Spencer muttered, the exhaustive lust beginning to overpower your tired bodies. 
You could feel the tension coiling in your stomach as you weakly nodded at Spencer’s words. “Can I cum? I wanna cum for you.” You groaned out, one of your hands leaving his thigh to rub small circles against your clit. 
His hand grabbed your hair, yanking your head back as he growled out “you’re mine. Say it, tell me who you belong to!” 
You cried out, your hips beginning to falter as Spencer rolled his hips up into you. Your eyes crossed, a weak moan falling from your lips. “You, you-I’m yours” 
Spencer grunted harshly, giving another sharp tug to your scalp, “watch yourself, see how pretty you look when you cum around my cock.” 
A squeal left your body as your orgasm hit you like a train. His hand released your hair, causing you to fall forward, arms planted firmly against the comforter as your body tensed. You watched in the mirror, as moans spilled from you, and Spencer grunted behind you, his own orgasm washing over him. Your mouth was open in a silent scream, and your thighs shook around Spencer’s. His hands shot to your hips, digging into your skin, his nails leaving crescents and red streaks as he readjusted his grip, pulling you down onto him one last time.
                                                           …
You basked in the feeling of Spencer’s warm body against yours, head laying against his chest, listening to his heart beat. 
Spencer’s hand ran soothingly through your hair, “I love you” his raw husky voice broke the silence.
You giggled like a schoolgirl, tilting your head to look up at him, “I love you more.” 
“Actually, statistically men tend to say ‘I love you first,’ which I did not. Women do tend to say ‘I love you’ around ten times more than men. Men and women express their feelings of love and affection in different ways. Men are usually-” 
His rant was silenced by your lips melting into his, upturned in a smile. You pulled back, a smile still on your face, “we have all day to ourselves tomorrow, go to sleep.” 
Spencer chuckled, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer into him. His lips placed a kiss to the top of your head, the two of you drifting off to sleep in each other's embrace. 
The unfortunate ringing of your cell phones brought you out of your slumber. You rolled over groggily, grabbing your phone. Pulling it away from your face, you let your eyes adjust to the light. You were met with the sight of two neglected notifications. 
Hotch: We have a case, meet at 9.
At least it was an hour later than usual.
One missed call: Aaron Hotchner. 
Fuck. Your eyes darted to the time at the top of your phone, your stomach doing backflips as your read, 9:12.
You scrambled from the bed, whacking Spencer awake in the process. “Jesus, Y/N” he groaned, sleepily running a hand over his face. 
“Get up” you said, grabbing his clothes from the floor and chunking them at him, “we have a case, we’re late.” 
He was out of bed so quick on any other day you would've thought he had watched a dead body be resurrected. “I can’t wear these clothes, I wore them yesterday!”
“There’s no time to stop, we’re already ten minutes late!” You groaned, throwing on a t-shirt, hoping you could dress up the look with a blazer.
“Dammit” he cursed, following your lead. 
Spencer walked through the glass doors, you hobbling behind him, still sore from yesterday. At the sight of the two of you, all jaws dropped to the floor. 
“No. Way.” Emily enunciated, her head shaking in disbelief. 
Derek laughed loudly, “you’ve been holding out on us, pretty boy.” He said between breaths.
“W-what? No-I don’t-we didn’t” The two of you began to defend yourselves, talking over each other, a stupid move in a room full of profilers. 
“Y/L your shirts on inside-out, and I’m pretty sure that’s the blazer Spencer wore yesterday.” Derek pointed out, now catching his breath. 
You looked down and sure enough, he was right, your shirt was on inside-out, and you had unknowingly grabbed Spencer’s blazer from the floor. No wonder it was so big. 
“So Spencer’s not just a genius, but a sex genius!” Garcia squealed, an enthusiastic smile curling her purple painted lips. 
Spencer flushed at the comment, his hands digging into his pockets. “Dear God” you mumbled, burying your face in your hands. 
You all shuffled into the briefing room, taking your seats. “And cue the never ending teasing.” You groaned. 
“Did they finally figure it out? You two need to stop sneaking around like teenagers.” JJ chimed in, walking into the room, handing files out to everyone. 
“What, you knew?” Emily gasped, looking at JJ bewildered. 
“You guys told JJ?” Derek accused. 
“Oh, no one told JJ, JJ found out herself when the two decided to get frisky at the club!” JJ laughed, joining in on the torment. 
“Ah, ah, ah! Stop it, stop!” You cried, not being able to stop the smile that broke out onto your red face. 
“Leave the teenagers alone, we have a case.” Hotch said, making his appearance in the room. 
“Seriously, you too?” 
“At least we don’t have to sneak around anymore.” Spencer pointed out meekly, peeking up at you, his red face matching yours. 
You giggled at the revelation, things would definitely be different now, and maybe for the better. 
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spencersawkward · 3 years
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switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 2
summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.
word count: 3.5k
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Richard Slessman's bedroom looks like something straight out of a serial killer documentary. floral wallpaper taunts Morgan and I as we walk inside. a model airplane hangs above his bed; cheap medals-- the kind kids get for participation-- decorate the area above his desk, which is littered with books about forensics. there's a carousel of CDs, too.
"whoa." is my brilliant analysis.
"we should have Garcia check out this guy's laptop." Morgan starts to wander around the room, trying to piece together Slessman's head just by examining his things. a group of cops are already huddled at the table with the laptop open, and I realize too late what they're doing.
"log in password." one of them plucks a post-it off the screen, starts to type it in.
"wait, wait--" Morgan and I nearly lunge toward them, but the crackling sound of a fizzing motherboard tells me we're too late. the screen goes black.
"it's not turning back on." Genius #1 observes. Morgan sighs and squeezes his eyes shut in frustration.
"yeah, and it won't. it's a false password."
the cops stare up at us blankly.
"it triggers a complete shut down of his system." I clarify. they share a look, deservedly feeling stupid. I want to roll my eyes, but Morgan's told me that the police on these cases get defensive most of the time; they don't like us on their turf. one glance from my partner, though, and those guys flee the room without another word.
I pull out my phone and dial Garcia's number in the hopes that she can salvage whatever's left of this asshole's computer. we arrested him an hour ago and we can only hold him with probable cause because we don't have any charges yet. this house search could be our only chance to get him in custody.
"well hello, my fresh-faced beauty queen." Penelope answers on the second ring. a slight smile turns up the corners of my mouth.
"hi, Penelope." I watch Derek plugging something into the laptop, then opening another monitor next to it. "listen, Morgan's trying to set up Richard Slessman's computer and I was wondering if you'd be able to hack into it."
"oh, kitten," she sighs contentedly. "that's my bread and butter."
"great. I'm putting you on speaker." I press a button and wait for Morgan to talk. he's typing furiously until a tab pops up with the words "Deadbolt Defense" in bold above a box for a password.
"what's the six at the bottom of the screen mean?" I ask.
"remaining password attempts until it wipes the hard drive." Morgan replies. shit.
"Penelope, there might be a journal or document or something that tells us where Heather is." I inform her.
"what system are we talking?" she asks.
"Deadbolt Defense?"
"Deadbolt is the number one crack-resistant software out there, hon. you're gonna need to get inside this guy's head for the password."
my heart sinks. when my colleague double takes, it makes me think that this is a rare occurrence.
"babygirl, are you serious?" Morgan complains. my shoulders droop. Penelope has been nothing short of genius since I got here. slicing through sealed files and unfurling secret criminal records is always ridiculously easy for her.
"sorry, handsome."
"thanks anyway." I hang up and shove my phone into my back pocket. "so... what now?"
"now," Morgan takes another look around the room. "we get creative."
...
somehow, I wind up in the attic. I don't really know how this happens, seeing as I started by flipping through discs in Slessman's weird quasi-childlike bedroom, but it's certainly an interesting space. Christmas lights are strung about, along with some shawl-like material that drapes raw ceiling.
the laptop sits in front of me, password cursor blinking mockingly while I sit in the chair. my head is aching. despite having the unit go through every single one of the CDs in search of the most-played one (hoping it'll crack the password), there's been nothing.
at least there have been other successes since we got here: we know that Slessman isn't operating on his own. he's the submissive in a partnership with Timothy Vogel, a prison guard where he was incarcerated a while back. the problem is that Vogel was onto us and fled to the kidnapping site, which we can't find. I feel useless sitting here with nothing to offer.
I consider going back downstairs and perusing the room again when I hear footsteps on the stairs. Reid's head pops into the room, spinning a bent paper clip between his fingers.
"hey." I greet curiously.
"I've been thinking about the CDs." he responds, walking over to me. I rub the heels of my hands against my eyes.
"we tried it, Reid. there's nothing there," I slam my back to the cushions with an exasperated groan. "if we don't find something, this girl is dead."
instead of replying, Reid bends down next to the laptop in front of me, squinting at the DVD slot in the side. he pokes the end of his bent paper clip into the small opening.
"I think we may have missed the obvious." he murmurs, working diligently. I scowl.
"what do you--?" in response to my question, the DVD slot pops open and out slides a copy of a Metallica CD. Reid and I look at each other with wide eyes before I snatch the disc out of of the computer and stare at it. "what made you think of this?"
"it was the only empty case." he shrugs. I grin at him.
"okay, okay," we still don't have the password. I read the cover of the case he hands me. "I'm an insomniac who listens to Metallica to fall asleep. what song would make me do that?"
Spencer frowns, grabs the thing back from my hands, and scans the track list within the span of a second.
"'Enter Sandman'." he says. I watch the puzzle pieces fall into place in his brain, those lips parting with a slight smile playing at the edges. his eyes gleam with satisfaction.
"you are a national treasure." I type like the wind, unlocking the screen and immediately digging into his files. Spencer peers over my shoulder as we search for any indication of Heather's location.
"fucking bingo." I mutter when a video feed pops up. it's black-and-white, showing a crate in the corner of the room with a light hanging above it. Heather's inside, eyes duct taped and hands tied in front of her.
Spencer is already dialing Hotch's number. the blood drains from my face as I watch her trying to breathe through the gag in her mouth.
nothing in the feed is helpful in terms of finding out where she is. it's a nondescript room with wooden floors, mostly shrouded in darkness except for the light hanging overhead.
"wait a minute." I pause what I'm doing.
"hm?" Reid asks. I hit a few keys, trying something.
"I'm lining up the last twelve images." I explain as he watches me work. the photos sit in a grid on the screen, causing my heart to stop in my chest when I notice what I've been meaning to find. "look at the light."
"it's shifting positions like it's swaying," he notices. "like the earth is tilting."
"the ocean." I nod. we share another glance, both of our hearts hammering. we're so close to solving this, I can feel it in my chest. "we need to tell Hotch. find out if there are any piers or docks near here. there's no way he could get the webcam image from the middle of the ocean."
Reid nods, runs downstairs as fast as he possibly can. when he goes, I notice the board in the corner of the room: Go, mid-game. I've never learned how to play.
...
by the time I get back to my apartment that night, my limbs feel like jello. I collapse into the chair by my door and rub my eyes again. my head is still pounding now that the adrenaline rush has subsided. we ended up finding Vogel at the docks; Heather is safe. Hotch was shot in the arm, but he'll be fine. and I'm still a little in shock.
I hate the rumble of my stomach as I realize I haven't eaten since this morning. my head was too full of other thoughts to even consider food and after such a long day, I can barely fathom getting up to change into pajamas.
my phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to see that Garcia texted me.
what are you up to? followed by a series of emojis that make me smile. I sink deeper into the seat before replying.
nothing why?
can I bring over takeout?
I stare at the message for a second with surprise. Garcia is fun and we've had drinks as a team, but I've never hung out with her one-on-one before. I'm curious.
sure. what genre of food should I expect?
Thai. send me your order!
that sounds so good right now, I almost order it myself. part of me is nervous about hanging out with a team member by myself, except she's been so friendly to me. Penelope was the first person to make me feel at home, aside from Prentiss.
I wait patiently for her to arrive, watching some TV and working my way through some leftover paperwork. my thoughts are everywhere right now, but when she tells me she's downstairs, I try to put it all out of my mind.
"hey!" I open the door to see Garcia with an armful of plastic bags.
"I have your curry, and I got chicken satay and spring rolls and fried rice in case you're still hungry." she beams at me. her bracelets make a pleasant clinking noise as she waves the goodies around.
"a woman after my own heart." I smile, stepping aside to let her in. we head upstairs and before long, we're settled on my couch with a full display of food on the coffee table. I heap my plate while she looks around my space.
"this place is so cute!" she says through a bite of spring roll.
"thanks. I've had it for about two years now. that window over there was really the selling point." I point to the enormous view of downtown DC, which is sparkling right now. there's another chair set in front of it, where I sometimes read or nap in my free time.
as we eat, Penelope and I gossip about work and the city and everything else. she's really easy to talk to. when I ask about her life, she doesn't seem guarded at all; unlike a lot of FBI agents I've met, she wears her experiences on her sleeve.
"how are you liking the team so far?" she asks a similar question as I received this morning. I smile to myself before answering truthfully.
"everyone is great. Hotch is kind of terrifying, but I've worked with people like him before." I shrug. he reminds me of one of my old professors: perpetually stoic to the point where he doesn't even seem like a real person. she laughs.
"he's super nice once you get to know him."
"really?" I look up.
"definitely. he's just always got that scowl on his face. don't let it put you off." she pats my hand reassuringly. I sigh, finish chewing my bite. there's been something prodding me since visiting Garcia's tech lair for the first time, when she showed me her collection of puppy calendars and fuzzy pens.
"can I ask you a question?"
"anything, my love." she smiles warmly. I hesitate, hoping I don't ruin the moment somehow.
"how did you get involved in the FBI? you just don't seem very..." my sentence trails off.
"government oriented?" she laughs. "I used to do a lot of hacking in my free time, and I got into some stuff that the government didn't like. and, um-- you know that saying, 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em'?"
I nod.
"it was like that, except they hired me. and I love it." she finishes the last spring roll. I think on this, imagining Penelope doing something so serious that the American government hired her on the spot for her skills. it's interesting.
"so you don't profile at all." I state.
"technically no, but I've picked up a couple things." she smirks.
"oh, yeah? like what?"
"well, it's obvious that you're never home, based on the lack of decoration here." she refers to the mostly blank walls of my apartment. aside from a couple photos of my friends and family, there's not much unique to me. "and you've obviously got a candle addiction." she points to the various spots around the living room, where half-burned pots of wax sit patiently awaiting their next light.
"that's definitely true." I laugh. she gets up and starts to smell the various candles.
"I like this one a lot." she sets down my chai vanilla one. I let her go through my things, despite the fact that Garcia is incredibly reserved about people touching her own little office trinkets. she picks up stray books and memorabilia, occasionally making a comment.
while she does, I finish my curry. I'm way too tired to resist her search, anyway. I'll be curling up in bed soon and praying that tomorrow is a paperwork day. eventually, she settles onto the cushions again.
"you seem tired," she says when she glimpses the dark circles beneath my eyes. "I'll get out of your hair."
"what? oh, I'm sorry." I draw myself up a little more. "this last case just took a lot out of me."
"they all do." she gives me a soft expression, then pats my knee as she stands.
"Penelope." I say as she gathers up her coat and purse.
"yes, darling?"
"thanks. for the food and for coming over." I smile gratefully at her. the tech analyst stands at my door with a look on her face that makes me think we're going to be good friends.
"anytime." she heads out, leaving me on the couch. I stare at the mess of empty takeout boxes that I told her to leave. now that I've eaten, getting up to clean the space is even more difficult. I trudge about the apartment, wash some dishes, and head off to bed.
my body is too exhausted to remember the dreams.
...
"oh my god, I'm so sorry!" I practically sprint into the conference room, swinging my bag down by my feet as I grab the last open chair. JJ is standing at the front of the room with a new case on the screen. everyone stares at me as I settle in. "my train was super delayed."
"everyone is allowed to be late," Hotch barely glances up from the case file. "once."
a chill runs down my spine and my face flushes an embarrassing red as JJ passes me the remaining file. keeping my head down, she notices my discomfort and clears her throat.
"okay, you guys are heading to Arizona today." she clicks a button. some pictures pop up for us to see. "Bradshaw College in Tempe has had six fires in seven months."
it's a video recording of a building from the outside, and two students talking about a fire inside. the camera shifts to show them in their own dorm, examining a strange wet spot leaking into their room. and then one of them catches on fire.
he burns to death on tape. it's jarring, the shrieking noises he lets out as the flames engulf his body. they travel up his legs alarmingly fast, so much so that it's obviously chemical.
"the first fire was in March, the second in May. the third didn't happen until September." JJ explains once the clip is over. "and then two weeks later, there were three that happened in one night."
"he's speeding up." Prentiss observes from her spot next to me.
"82% of arsonists are white males between seventeen and twenty-seven. female arsonists are far less common, with motives usually limited to revenge." Reid sits across the table, adjusting his watch.
I raise my eyebrows at his fact and look more at the crime scene photos. burned flesh is definitely an uncomfortable sight, one that makes my stomach churn.
"sounds like he's a student." Morgan taps his pen against his fingertip and leans back in his chair.
"I wouldn't be so sure," Hotch continues to read the document. "we don't want to rely too much on precedent."
at this, I press my knuckles to my chin and try to think of other suspects. he's obviously doing these during the school year, but that doesn't necessitate that he's a student. he could be working on campus-- a professor, even.
"there's a rapid escalation. he's gone from the damage to a building to something far more satisfying." Morgan closes the file and we all look to Hotch.
"wheels up in thirty." he says. I get up to grab my go-bag and gather some things from my desk, my cheeks burning at the memory of being late again. I've never done that before, but I don't want to start now. maybe it's best if I start coming in early, just in case my train gets delayed again. I can't risk losing this job, or being moved to a different department. it was enough of a hassle switching from sex crimes to the BAU. I really want to settle into this position, and that includes having the unit chief not hate me.
"hey." Prentiss catches my wrist just as I'm hurrying out of the room. I turn to her.
"hi."
"a little birdy told me that you and Reid pretty much single-handedly solved that case yesterday." she smiles.
"oh, no. it wasn't just us." I shake my head.
"quit being modest. nice job." she nudges my shoulder as we walk down the steps to the bullpen. "also, I brought a couple of those horticulture magazines that I told you about. we should read them on the jet."
"no way!" I pause at my desk, grinning.
"one of them has a whole section on caring for orchids."
"orchids?" Morgan overhears her from his desk. he appears deeply concerned with our discussion.
"if you have to ask, you wouldn't understand." she smirks. he turns his attention to me in hopes of a clearer answer.
"it's plant care." my explanation seems to be enough to bore him, however, because he just shrugs and returns to packing his bag up. Emily waves the stack of magazines at me before I head over to her desk.
she doesn't really seem like the type of person to be into it, but when Emily caught sight of the air plants I've got scattered on my desk my first week, we got wrapped up in a conversation about them. there's a special magazine subscription as well that has a bunch of helpful tips about where to buy and how to keep them healthy.
I'm flipping through one of the copies on the way to the elevator, my nose buried in a section about how much to water Hoyas, when Reid and JJ pop in next to me. the blonde is on the phone with someone, presumably the Tempe police. I haven't seen much of her recently-- she's been staying behind for most cases-- but she sends me a sweet smile before returning to her call.
"what are you reading?" Spencer's eyes hungrily run over the paper, as if seeing something he hasn't already absorbed in that big brain is unbearable. his hair is slicked back as usual, and his tie is sort of crooked; he's not aware of it. I hold the material between us so he can take a peek.
"a magazine about plants that Prentiss and I like."
"fascinating. can I see?" he grabs it before I can answer, although I don't think he means to. his fingertip runs down the page quickly, and then he's flipping them like mad, staring at the pictures. my eyes widen at how eager he is; I guess his curiosity is enough to override any awkwardness.
"did you know that owning indoor plants is actually correlated to overall mood improvements?" he asks me once he finishes reading, attention still focused on the back cover. the elevator door to the main level slides open.
"no, but I'm proof of it," I take back the reading material and put it in my bag. we walk out into the lobby. his long legs mean that my pace has to quicken a bit in order to keep up. "something about taking care of them is quite nice. they don't need as much attention as a pet, but they still rely on you."
"interesting." he nods.
"I like to think so."
"maybe I'll get one." he muses more to himself than anyone else. I smile at his open-mindedness, keep my eyes on the tiles we're walking over. maybe he, Prentiss, and I can have our own affinity club. he would become more knowledgeable than both of us combined within the span of a week.
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drxwsyni · 4 years
Text
Denied︱Yandere Shindo Yo x f!Reader
Prompt: “I can’t wait any longer.”
Trope: Jealous!Character x Friend!Character
a/n: This is my submission for the weekly nsfw prompt from the @bnhabookclub! I’m feeling really self-conscious about posting this so I hope it turned out okay. I don’t have any content for this character so I figured this might be a good start. Please read the warnings and only continue if you’re comfortable with them. This is set in a college/university au, quirks still exist and everyone is 18+.
5.8k words
Warnings: dubcon/noncon, swearing, some degradation at the end, yandere behaviour
_____
He was just another guy in your department at first.
Lingering in the study hall, making small talk with other students before lectures. You saw him a lot, but nothing ever moved past brief glances.
Your friends were the ones who introduced you to him. Whether you should be grateful or not was beyond you at this point.
It was late, you had a night class and were packing your laptop into your backpack at the end of a lecture. A Friday night usually didn’t mean much for you. Just as you were at the moment, your plans would usually lean towards the monotonous side. The comfort of your dorm room played a large part in those plans―but not tonight.
Those who chose to grace you with their presence time and time again, while you wouldn’t always consider them your friends, were set on dragging you out with them for drinks. You didn’t necessarily mind it, but the pushiness wasn’t completely appreciated. Especially when it came in the form of a couple not so restrained individuals.
Every friend group has their flirts, yours being no exception. Only now there was a new addition.
Shindo Yo.
He made his presence very clear. Transferring into your class right before the deadline for availability, he quickly wormed his way into your life. It was a matter of keeping himself in all the right places where he knew you would be.
Like with the peers you chose to hang around with, of course.
It was sickeningly quick, the way Yo grew comfortable in your presence. The whole night was spent trying to weasel your way from his side. It was a task that proved to be much harder than it should’ve.
You’d shove off the arm draped over your shoulders, or move away from his frame leaning against yours at a bar table. He just met you, yet he was already so goddamn clingy. As far as you were concerned, it only proved what kind of person he was. Someone who got too comfortable too quickly―absolutely no awareness for someone's boundaries.
As much as you hoped he’d leave you alone after that painfully tiring night out, he didn’t. Yo sat down in the seat beside you the next class you two had together.
A cheeky, “This seat taken?” Of course it wasn’t―you always got to class early so there was never anyone occupying the surrounding area for a while. Which meant he had time to chat your ear off until the prof showed up.
“Don’t think I got your number last Friday.” You knew he was looking at you with that shit eating grin. There was no way you’d give him the time of day to look though.
“You didn’t.” You pretended to read a page in your textbook in an attempt to silently convey how much you’d rather not to speak to him.
“That’s right, I didn’t.” He paused, presumably waiting for something else from you. And when you didn’t speak, he did. “I think it only makes sense I did get it though.”
You spared him a side glance, noting his jovial attitude, “And why is that?” Sounding a little snarky wasn’t your intention, but the excessive amount of affection he’d shown deemed it permissible.
He gave a half-hearted chuckle, “We’re in the same class, we hang with the same people. And now,” he put his laptop and water bottle on the table in front of the two of you, “we sit together. Don’t you think it’s only natural that we exchanged numbers?”
He acted so casual, his tone so friendly that it was hard to deny him. And in an act of reflex, you didn’t. “I guess not...but we could just―”
“Here. Make a new contact for yourself.” Yo extended his unlocked phone towards you, and with a reluctant hand you took it. The contacts app was already open, so you started to type in your information.
“Not gonna give me your phone too?” You looked up at the man who was waiting expectedly, eyeing the device that was resting on your textbook before looking back at you.
“Oh, uh...yeah, sorry.” Mildly embarrassed, you handed him your phone as you spoke, not before unlocking it and opening the same app. His fingers brushed yours as he took it from you, and for a moment you wondered if the contact was just as intentional as all the other times he insisted on touching you last Friday.
The two of you sat in silence as you finished filling out the contact form.
He returned your device, you doing the same. You mentally rolled your eyes upon seeing the heart emoticons Yo placed next to his name.
“Now that that’s out of the way, why don’t we start hanging out more? From what I’ve seen you don’t exactly make a point in talking to anyone. You could use the company.”
Was that supposed to sound friendly?
“Ah, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with school and―”
“Oh, c’mon. I’m sure you can find some free time. If it’s parties you’re not big on we can just study together.”
You looked at him, slightly offended at the interruption but also confused at the offer of studying. He seemed like the kind of guy to just wing it through all his classes. Going out for more drinks certainly wasn’t on your to do list and it was something you presumed he was more inclined to suggest. But studying―that was something you could do. “I guess...if you’re okay with that. I’ve got some free time after this class, it’s alright if you’re too busy though.”
“No, I’m good too. Why don’t you send me your schedule so I know when you’re free.”
It was a harmless suggestion. Convenient even―he wouldn’t have to pester you over when it was a good time to study. But something about that smile of his didn’t sit right. It was more like a grin―suggestive in a way.
It made you uneasy.
You took out your phone, “I’ve got a lot of classes so I’m not sure we’ll be able to see each other very often.” Opening his contact, you attached the image of your schedule to the text and sent it. A second later and his phone buzzed atop the table.
“Perfect. Would you look at that, our schedules are actually pretty similar.” Yo was scanning the timetable, meanwhile you weren’t feeling so pleased hearing that you might have to be around him more than you could handle.
He looked like he was going to say something else, but just as he opened his mouth to speak the professor walked into the room. You hadn’t even realized it, but amidst your conversation with Yo the majority of the students had filed in.
It looked like the instructor was still getting ready for the lecture, booting up the terminal at the front of the room to display a powerpoint.
“You mind if I borrow a pencil? Forgot some stuff in my dorm.” He was back to looking at you with that smile of his. Maybe it really was just a friendly gesture, nothing more.
You were probably overthinking things.
“Yeah, gimme a sec―” Rooting through your pencil case, you managed to locate a spare utensil for the man. Offering it to him with a quiet “Here,” Yo took it from your hand.
“Thanks cutie.”
The professor started up the powerpoint. All attention shifted to the front of the room, meanwhile yours remained on the nonchalant behaviour of the man sitting next to you.
_____
The lecture was over before you knew it. Note taking and trying not to fall asleep were the main battles to be had, aside from trying to distract yourself from Yo.
Was he closer than he was before the professor started speaking?
“Hey, earth to (y/n).”
You looked up at his soft brown eyes, “What? Oh, sorry―zoned out a little.” Awkwardly, you stuffed your notes and laptop into your bag.
Yo laughed a little at your state, “Yeah, I can tell.” He began doing the same before continuing, “So, where did you wanna study. I know of a nice little place in the library on this side of campus. Or maybe if you’re hungry we can go to that new cafe that opened up down the street…”
Right, you promised him you’d study.
Somehow in your muddled thoughts the declaration got lost on you, but naturally such a thing would never happen to Yo. He was much too persistent for that.
The library was secluded. Not a good idea.
“The cafe should be fine. Is there anything in particular you want to go over?” All your belongings were effectively shoved into your bag. You stood up, retrieving the light jacket that was hanging off the back of your chair.
Yo began doing the same, picking up a discarded sweater. “Hmm, I think I just wanna go over the basics. But I’d be more than happy to help you out with anything.” He was pulling on the article of clothing, pushing the chair in with his leg. “I’ve actually got pretty good grades in this class. Think you need a tutor?”
His tone was almost teasing, but you paid no mind. “I think I’m good. Why don’t we just focus on the material from today’s lecture. Not quite sure I retained most of it to be honest.”
“Cool, you can borrow my notes if you missed anything.”
He was already walking in the direction of the door before you could respond, his backpack lazily slung over his shoulder.
You wouldn’t lie to yourself. Studying with someone was better than being alone. It’s just...Yo was very eager. You’d known him for less than a week, and he was already acting like you were lifetime friends. Actually, it felt like it was a little more than that.
But you’d keep it as friends. Besides, you weren’t about to abandon the people you had long-term committed relationships with for fresh meat.
Following him out of the room, you tried to maintain a safe distance between the two of you. Both physically and in conversation―it was safer that way.
_____
It would appear that Yo really was as intelligent as he claimed. You missed more than you thought from the lecture, and the man didn’t hesitate for a second when it came to diligently explaining the content.
Surprisingly, the time you spent with him was enjoyable. Perhaps you judged him too soon. There were no complaints on his end as you went over the material. A back and forth that should be painstakingly tedious was nothing but the sort.
You just studied. Disregarding a few flirtatious comments here and there, he was mostly respectable. And when the time came to go your separate ways, you did so with a hint of reluctance. However, that too was quickly disregardable.
The relaxing atmosphere of your dorm was much preferable.
It wasn’t the last time Yo asked to study with you. Surely enough, when the opportunity presented itself, he had one thing in mind. Always a one sided initiation, he would send you a quick text, asking if you were free.
You were always free, and when it came to something as harmless as studying there wasn’t anything to hold you back from holing up in a cafe with Yo after class.
But that wasn’t enough for him.
Too much distance, you presumed. It wasn’t something you minded―you preferred it that way. But Yo was a man committed to closeness. And he wanted to be close to you.
He came to your dorm room unannounced, passing it off as checking up on you. And if you weren’t doing anything you would be soon, him always insisting that an impromptu study session was in need.
You had no clue how he found your dorm room.
Yo was nice to you. Patient, understanding―a little touchy, but still. He was nice. It made it easy to overlook his less than ideal traits.
The traits that had him slowly integrating himself into your everyday life. Or at least trying to.
He suggested doing something that didn’t involve hovering over textbooks and drowning in the scent of freshly brewed coffee. Going out for dinner, seeing that new movie that just came out, going to a live music performance at the bar.
You denied him at each turn. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Yo. It was just that you had your suspicions about him. The relationship you two held was still newly formed. Maybe a month had gone by at the most, and during that time you were trying to get a better idea of the kind of person he was.
The person he didn’t let everyone see.
There was no way he was so effortlessly kind and helpful. He was a good friend, someone to study with. But there was concern to be held when it came to the prospect of who he really was. If there was a different personality underneath the layers of sweet sentiments and innocence, you needed to be aware of them.
He was a man to be kept at a distance at the moment, for your own sake.
Your other friends didn’t warrant the same treatment. You’d known them since graduating high school for the most part. Maybe a few of them were newer acquaintances, but they still had at least a year under their belt.
Another month went by, and you were still on the same level of friendship. Study buddies, with the occasional bout of small talk here and there.
But he was pushing you. The disconnect was getting to him. The visits to your dorm didn’t stop, and he started suggesting other, less public spots to go over the course content.
He brought up going to the library once again.
“They’ve got these private rooms we can rent so it’s easier to study. Doesn’t that sound better?”
You trusted Yo, but only to an extent. Not the way you trusted your other friends. And he saw that.
Two more months and not much had changed. Exams were rolling around and you needed to focus more than ever. But a little fun couldn’t hurt.
A few times here and there you were once again dragged out to social events. Parties, bar hopping―shameless behaviour.
Except it wasn’t―not to Yo.
He tagged along, like he would with any other excursion you went on. Like the first night you went out with him he was as clingy as ever. And just like before you kept pushing him off. Maybe not as much, but enough for there to be a difference. A difference between the way you treated him and the way you let all your other friends get close to you. That’s what was shameless―his complete disregard for your boundaries.
After one night of repeated resistance he got worse. The insisting attitude was amplified. He sat closer to you, and you did your best to subtly inch away. Sometimes you let him have his fun, but mostly you wanted to maintain that space that kept you safe. If he did turn out to be someone that wasn’t the man you’d been studying with for almost four months, you needed to have a way out. Being in public with him did the trick.
The two of you were burning the midnight oil―luckily the cafe on campus was open until the current ungodly hours of the night. Yo was as helpful as ever, going over the seemingly endless notes and lecture powerpoints as many times as you needed. You tried to help him, but he was too smart for his own good, or at least that’s how he acted.
And yet, his normal beaming personality―always a little too kind to feel genuine―just seemed a little...off.
You couldn't quite place where the feeling came from.
“Ahh, well I don’t know about you but I’m ready to pack it in,” he sighed with a stretch. The two of you were huddled around a small table, nearly completely covered in papers, textbooks, wayward sticky notes―you name it.
It was late, neither of you were really tired, but the idea of going over the same thing you’d been reading for the past three hours wasn’t appealing.
You agreed, “Yeah, I’m good with that. Thanks for helping me tonight, probably would’ve procrastinated otherwise.” It was the truth, you were a glutton for punishment, and avoiding the necessary was something you were prone to do.
“No problem, cutie. You know I don’t mind. I get a lot out of it too after all.”
You shook your head, lightly laughing at his claim. “Like you need it, your marks are practically perfect.”
Both of you were lazily moving your things into your respective bags while he responded. “It’s not just the studying, I get to spend time with you.”
You glanced up at him with an inquisitive look before disregarding the notion. “Yeah, okay. Well lemme know if you wanna cram a bit more before the exam. You know by now I’ve got nothing better to do.” Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you grabbed the empty mug and placed it with the other dirty cups at the counter.
Yo did the same, “Actually, would you mind stopping by my dorm really quick. For once there’s actually something I don’t get about the lessons. Maybe you could help?”
He was giving you the innocent smile, waiting for a response. “You mean like...right now?”
He nodded, “Yeah, it’ll only take a sec. Left the notes there by accident.”
It seemed harmless enough, and if it would be brief then surely you could spare the time to assist him.
You followed Yo out of the cafe, letting him lead you to the residence building he was staying in on campus. It wasn’t a long walk, and you were thankful given that you wanted to spend as little time as possible completing this final task of the night.
The journey up the elevator and to his room was done in silence, you taking in the familiar surroundings as your own dorm building was made to look almost identical. Eventually you arrived at his door, him unlocking it and letting you enter first.
He had one of the single room dorms, fit with a separate washroom and kitchen area.
“It’s just in my bedroom.” He moved past another door, and you remained trailing his path. “I’ve got it here somewhere...Here it is!”
He held out some papers being kept together by a staple in the corner. You took it, venturing further into the room as you scanned the documents.
“Ah, Yo...isn’t this stuff we’ve already gone over?”
You heard the door to his bedroom shut behind you, prompting you to turn in his direction. Yo still had his hand on the doorknob, a pensive look mixed with almost a brief moment of conflict. But that quickly faded.
“Y’know, I’ve been trying to figure out how I was gonna go about this for a while. I just...I can’t wait any longer. And honestly, I’m surprised you even came up here.” He laughed off the notion, eyes coming to rest on your form.
You put the papers down on the windowsill. “What are you talking about?”
He was looking at you with almost apathetic eyes, contrasting the slight smile that was just a little too off. “What, you think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been treating me?”
“I’m not sure I’m following, Yo...”
“You keep pushing me away. Time and time again…” He took a step forward, “You don’t do that with anyone else. Why is that?”
He was blocking the only exit to the room. You eyed the door, a pang of anxiety washing over you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about...Can we just go over the work―”
“Shut up. You know what I’m talking about.” He spoke slowly, drawing closer to you as he continued, “Your little friends don’t get the same treatment. You don’t mind getting close with them, do you?”
He was backing you further into the room, each stride he took forward being responded with a step behind from you. “What makes them so special, huh?”
Another step.
“They have something I don’t?”
Another step.
“I bet they’ve got you wrapped around their finger.”
Another step. His methodical and drawn out rant didn’t cease.
“And they’re probably fucking telling you to stay away from me, aren’t they?”
You hit the desk behind you, leaning back to put a desperate few more centimeters between the two of you. It left you at a loss for words, seeing this completely new side of him. Something threatening.
Yo was barely even a foot away, voice dangerously low. “Oh, sweetheart.” In an unexpected movement, he cupped your face with both hands, staring directly into your pleading eyes. “You don’t have to listen to them anymore.”
A little too gently in contrast to his demanding attitude, Yo pressed his lips against yours. You grabbed his forearms, attempting to pry him off. He only responded by deepening the kiss, pressing you further into the desk behind you. Unable to comprehend his actions, you stood there frozen.
He didn’t stop, one of his hands weaving its way into your hair, a leg pushing itself in between yours. Seemingly unsatisfied with your lack of reciprocation, he gave your locks a harsh tug. The brief pain made you gasp, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue past your parted lips. If you knew any better you might’ve just bit down on the offending intrusion, but something told you it would only bring bad news.
Yo held you against him until you were frantically pushing against his chest. The lack of oxygen must’ve been mutual, as soon he pulled away.
But he wasn’t quite done yet.
Moving past your lips, Yo began leaving a trail of light kisses―along your jawline, descending to the soft, supple flesh of your neck. The hand that once remained cupping your face had moved, opting to wrap around your waist to prevent you from squirming out of his grasp.
“Y-Yo, I don’t think―”
He bit down harshly on the junction between your neck and your collarbone, stopping your train of thought and earning a small yelp. A little gentler, he sucked on the spot before detaching from it, moving to place new marks on a few other areas.
The whole time you were at odds with yourself.
This was wrong. He was just a friend. It’s all you wanted him to be.
And yet, the nagging voice in the back of your head grew more and more distant with each passing second.
Yo paused his ministrations, “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this. You’re such a fucking tease, you know.”
In a swift movement he gripped your hips and lifted you into his arms, forcing you to wrap your legs around him for support.
“What are you doing? I think we should just―”
“Just what? It’s your fault I’m like this.” He was moving towards his bed, and upon reaching it laid you down at the foot of it. Not wasting a moment, he climbed over your form, nestling himself in between your legs. He leaned down to capture your lips with his once again. One hand next to your head was used to steady himself while the other moved to undo the buttons of your blouse.
Finally catching on to his actions, your own hands flew to the one fumbling with your top. You managed to break the kiss, a little breathless as you spoke, “Stop it Yo, please.”
He took both of your hands, using only one of his to pin them above you. Without the obstacle he resumed his attack on the other side of your neck, ignoring your pleading, now preferring to simply rip at the shirt. You heard a few buttons hit the ground as they flew from the fabric.
Sitting up slightly, Yo fixed his gaze on your now exposed chest. “So...fucking beautiful.” It came out in a breathy sigh, like the sight eased every tension in his body all at once.
He was getting impatient. His head dipped back down to your exposed chest, alternating between gently nipping at the skin and latching onto one spot for a few moments before moving on. His now free hand trailed down the side of your waist, inching lower and lower down your body.
It was a pitiful attempt―trying to pull your hands out of his grasp. Yo was much stronger than you once perceived, another thing to prove just how much you didn’t know about him. Your quiet pleas fell upon deaf ears, him paying no mind to your protests in favour of reaching some self satisfying goal.
The wandering hand slipped beneath the hem of your skirt, and you could feel his fingers brush against the seat of your panties. He momentarily pressed his fingers into the plush and covered skin. That didn’t seem to be enough for him though, as in a swift motion he pushed the fabric aside, a digit slipping between your folds. He massaged teasingly small circles repeatedly, making you unconsciously buck your hips in hopes of gaining more friction. After a few moments his fingers delved lower, gathering some of your slick in between them.
Yo smiled dangerously against your skin at the realization, “You’re fucking enjoying this, aren’t you?” His hot breath fanned against you as he chuckled. “Good, it’ll be easier for the both of us if you stopped acting like you didn’t want me.”
You whimpered at his crude words, turning your head to the side in shame. He was right, the heat you felt pooling from his actions wasn’t intended, at least not from you, but it was there nonetheless.
“C’mon, don’t get all shy now.” Without warning he pushed a single finger into your burning core, earning a shocked gasp from you. His thumb remained circling your clit as he pumped agonizingly slowly in and out of you. He added another digit soon after, the slight stretch making your face scrunch up in a small wince.
Assuming he’d gotten bored with leaving marks all over your chest, Yo moved up again to press his lips back into yours.
His fingers curled expertly inside you, reaching that soft, spongy area that sent your mind reeling. You were slowly falling apart around him. And in a moment when you were trying to come back to your senses, Yo activated his quirk, sending ripples of low vibrations through your core.
You jolted from the unexpected sensation before you felt your body reacting sickeningly quick to its effects. He didn’t cease his attack for a second, muffling the moans you tried desperately to hold back while greedily working his mouth against yours. Leaving no area unexplored, you could only let him consume you further as your body succumbed to his ministrations.
Yo’s actions grew more intense, his fingers moving faster in an almost brutal pace while he let his quirk grow in intensity every time he hit that sensitive spot, targeting it with each thrust. You felt the coil in your lower abdomen start to tighten as he slowly worked you towards release.
He broke the kiss, leaving you panting in his wake. “Fuck, I can feel you getting close.” Yo accentuated his claim with a few harsh pumps, somehow going deeper than before. You arched your back at the sensation, earning a pleased look to creep across his face.
“P-please, Yo. I w-wanna―”
“What? You wanna cum, is that it?” He lowered his head back to your neck, pressing light kisses into it before ghosting his lips against the shell of your ear. “I don’t know if I should let you. Been such a bitch to me these past few months, you think you deserve it?”
As if to prove his point, Yo halted his movements, retracting the effects of his quirk. You squirmed beneath him, whimpering at the loss of stimulation.
“I should make you beg for it. How does that sound?” Tantalizingly slowly, he began lazily pushing his fingers back into your heat, dragging them against your sensitive walls while removing them just as steadily. He repeated the action, smirking down at the sight of you writhing against his touch―or the lack of it.
“Yeah, I think that’s what you deserve. Go on, beg for―”
Before he could finish his demand, a few loud knocks could be heard at the door of his dorm room.
“Yo! You in there buddy!?” The voice of a man you didn’t recognize bellowed out from the other side of the door. Your body froze at the sound.
The last thing you wanted was someone finding you in this position. The thought made your blood run cold, and you looked up at Yo to see if he was having the same idea.
From the look on his face, he definitely wasn’t.
Yo ripped the hand away that was pinning your wrists down to the bed, instead clamping it firmly across your mouth. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, grasping at his grip on your face.
“Yeah, what’s up man!”
As soon as he spoke an intense bout of vibrations crashed through your core. He returned to thrusting in and out of your sopping heat, not relenting even as you thrashed against his hold.
It was too much―his quirk now more powerful than ever. He continued to rub tight circles into your clit with almost the same level of vibrations, maybe a little less intense than the ones he was sending through you with his other fingers.
The man outside his dorm spoke again. “I was just wondering if you had the notes from last class. Me and a few guys need them right now.”
Yo spoke without breaking eye contact with you, relishing in the way you tried to control the little noises as a result of his relentless movements. The glint in his eyes that you once saw was gone, now replaced with an empty darkness.
This was the Yo who was being kept from the public. The person you did your best to avoid for so long.
“I do actually, I’m in the middle of something―why don’t I stop by your place in a few minutes?”
You tried to close your legs, or somehow move away as you were pushed towards release faster with every passing second. Yo only pressed your head back into the mattress with more force, acting more as a warning than a way to keep you in place.
“Okay, sounds good man. Hey―are you with someone right now?”
His methods were wreaking havoc on your body. The fear of being caught and the intensity of his actions sent you over the edge. As if sensing you were done for, Yo let out a final wave of forceful vibrations, sending you crashing hard into an orgasm. Your eyes shut tightly as you rode out the blinding sensation, body seizing up completely.
You didn’t know how long it lasted for, but by the time you finally came down from your high it seemed the investigative man on the other side of the door was gone.
Yo removed his fingers, holding them up to his face in awe. Through your tear stained vision you could catch the glistening of your slick, stringing as he pulled his fingers apart. You watched in disgust as he continued to lap at the substance, sucking his own digits clean with a sinfully low moan resonating from his throat in the process.
Focusing anywhere but at him was a better option, but he wouldn’t have that. As you tried to turn your head again with eyes trying to distract themselves on something that wasn’t the man towering above you, the hand over your mouth moved to clamp around your jaw.
“Fucking look at me.” Yo turned your head back harshly at the demand, and your eyes met his. The threatening tone in his voice was one you’d never heard before.
“I’m gonna go give my buddy what he needs, and you’re gonna stay here until I’m done.”
He waited a few seconds, gauging your initial reaction. Finally, Yo released his hold, climbing off the bed and letting you curl into yourself in defence.
“If you’re gone when I get back, I’ll tell everyone just how much of a little slut you are. And we both know they’ll believe me, I’m way more likeable than you’ll ever be, princess.”
A pitiful sob wracked your body, soon turning into steady convulsions from crying. “I-I’m not...m’not a s-slut.”
He grabbed a notebook that was sitting on his bookshelf before walking to the side of the bed where you were trying to move towards in an attempt to leave. He crouched down next you you, petting down the hair on your head in an almost loving manner, “Oh I know that, but your friends don’t. They might let you tag along with them but I know they don’t really like you. Not how they like me.”
At his point you were sobbing into your hands, trying to rub away at the hot tears streaming down your face. “D-don’t―please don’t tell them that.”
Yo swiped a thumb across your cheek, doing little to rid them of your tears. “I won’t, you just be a good girl and nothing bad will happen, okay?” He gave your face a few reassuring pats before retracting his hand.
You were a mess―clothes disheveled and hair turned unruly.
He was bluffing. He had to have been.
“Don’t move, I’ll be back as soon as possible!” Yo was exiting the room, giving your crumpled form a final once over before leaving, notes in tow without letting you get out another word of protest. The door shut with a thud, and you could hear the signature click of a lock falling into place.
You could leave. You should leave.
And you wanted to, but his words kept repeating in your head. If he wasn’t bluffing then you weren’t too sure if your friends would take your side. It wasn’t just your friends either. Your family would find out, your school even.
Yo was a well liked man. A trusted man. You trusted him.
He was so good at what he did. Hiding his true intentions under that far too positive and easy going attitude. It made it easy to disregard him, and look at what happened when you did.
You denied him the satisfaction of such a closeness for so long, not even knowing what it was doing to him. Realistically, it shouldn’t have done anything. Any sane person would’ve taken the hint long ago to leave well enough alone.
But the absence of light in his eyes, the condescending attitude―all of it was evidence to show that he was everything but sane.
He’d be back soon.
And you stayed where you were.
498 notes · View notes
hutchhitched · 3 years
Text
Peeta Mellark, CEO
Written by: @hutchhitched​
Prompt 8: Peeta is a rich CEO and in love with another who disappeared before their marriage. So he withdraw within himself. But then he meets Katniss (her background is up to you) and falls in love for the second time. [submitted by @mysteriouslycraftyreview ]
Ratings/Warnings: E
A/N: I’m continuing to post the nine @everlarkficexchange prompts I took and then sat on throughout the early months of the pandemic. This is the fifth of the nine. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy. Huge thanks to @javistg for understanding the delays. While this submission fills the prompt, I have more in store for this couple.
 ______________
 Peeta Mellark tossed his glasses down on the desk and scrubbed a hand over his face. His tired eyes felt like they were full of sandpaper, and the stubble on his jaw was definitely not the look of a successful businessman, let alone the CEO of an up and coming manufacturing cooperation that was poised to break into the Fortune 500 in the very near future. Exhausted, he shoved at the pile of papers on his desk and cursed his luck. He needed an administrative assistant immediately. Like yesterday. Or two weeks ago.
 To be fair, he needed a lot more than a new administrative assistant. He’d been in a funk for the past year, since his fiancée sent him a text (seriously, a text?) and called off their wedding—three days before it was to take place.
 Cashmere’s rejection had been tough to take. He had loved her so much, still did, if he was telling the truth, and it hurt every day to go home to his empty apartment and not see her there. His friends, business acquaintances, and family all tried to make him feel better by telling him he was too good for her, but that didn’t help at all. Cashmere and he were good together for a long time. It wasn’t her fault that his ardor had grown after their engagement and hers had cooled. It sucked that her attraction to him had abated to friendship, but he didn’t regret anything other than that his marriage had never happened.
 Since his broken engagement, Peeta had retreated into himself. He didn’t spend much time with anyone, including his family or close friends who all wanted to help so much it made him anxious. He couldn’t handle their good intentions when all he wanted to do was curl up on the couch in sweats and binge shows and eat junk food. If he hadn’t been the head of a company, he would have done that every day. Instead, he went into the office and buried himself in his work before going home and heading to bed—incredibly alone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to his parents on the phone or grabbed lunch with anyone if it wasn’t for business.
 Sometimes he missed being part of the human race, interacting with others and seeing their eyes light up with joy when they laughed. He missed family dinners with his brothers and nights out at the club with Finnick, Darius, Thom, and Gale. But most of all, he missed being in love with someone. Having a relationship with a woman who wanted only him. A person to come home to and wake up with. A confidante who knew his secrets and faults and loved him anyway. More than anything, he was just really, really lonely and more than a little horny. He was an All-American adult male, after all, and it had been far too long since he’d been with anyone other than himself.
 Peeta pushed the intercom button on his phone and spoke into it. “Delly, can you come in here, please?”
 “Right away, sir.”
 Peeta smiled at Delly when she entered the room. As office manager, she’d worked her job and that of his missing assistant for too long. She deserved a raise. She also happened to be one of his oldest friends, which is why he managed to keep it together every day instead of losing it each time he thought about how empty his life was outside the office.
 “Delly, I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of the way things are going around here,” he said and idly twirled a pen between his fingers. “I think we need a change, don’t you?”
 “Sir?”
 “Delly, you’ve known me your whole life. Can you cut it out with the ‘sir’ bullshit? It’s me.”
 She visibly relaxed and sank into the chair opposite his desk. “What do you want to change, Peeta? Am I not doing a good enough job?”
 He winced at the worried furrow of her brow and chided himself for making her job harder than it already was. He made a mental note to submit the paperwork for a raise for her the next day.
 “You’re doing an amazing job,” he assured her, “but you’ve been covering for two people for months. It’s time I bite the bullet and get someone else in here.”
 “Do you want me to take a look at the resumés and send you the most qualified?” she offered. “I can go over them this evening and send them your way.”
 “No,” he insisted. “You’ve done enough. Go home. Take the weekend off, and don’t worry about anything. I just need the applicant file before you leave. I’ll review them and set up some interviews for early next week. Deal?”
 Her relief was palpable, and he tried to quell the guilt he felt for pushing her so hard instead of finding a replacement for his last assistant. She brought him the file right away, and he waved her out the office doors before she could find something else she had to do before she left. He’d flipped through several applications before his phone buzzed.
 “Finnick,” he answered. “How’s it going, man?”
 “Peeta Mellark, my man,” came the hearty response. “Haven’t seen you in months. It’s Friday. Come meet us at Ripper’s.”
 “I’d love to. I really would, but—”
 “But nothing, man. Get your ass down here. Time to rejoin the living.”
 “I can’t. Snowed under here.”
 “I will come drag you out of that office if you don’t get the fuck down here within the hour. I proposed. I will not take no for an answer.”
 “Congratulations, man, but I really—”
 “One hour, you asshole. You’ve been warned,” Finnick threatened and disconnected the call.
 Peeta heaved a heavy sigh and sat back in his chair. Finnick engaged. That was really something—something that made his insides twist and curl and hurt. Despite that, he had to go meet his friends. Finnick was the first to congratulate Peeta after he’d ask Cashmere to marry him and had been there after the breakup, too. Peeta couldn’t shirk, no matter how much he wanted to go home and hide.
 Frustrated and despondent, he packed up his laptop and files carefully before reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulling a bottle of whiskey from its depths. He poured two fingers of the dark liquid and loosened his tie. When he took a sip, the liquor burned a trail down his throat enough that he tugged the tie off completely and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. By the time he’d finished his drink, he’d also lost his jacket and rolled up his sleeves to reveal his forearms. At least this way he looked like a regular working schmuck instead of an uptight executive who had no life outside the office.
 Fortified by the drink and a burgeoning desire to reconnect with his friends, Peeta made his way uptown to Ripper’s. Memories hit him in the gut as soon as the door opened. The sounds and scents assailed him, and a flash of evenings out with his friends and his fiancée flickered in his head. Cashmere leaning over to kiss him as his friends whooped. The taste of her lips after they both shot tequila, lime and salt clinging to her lips. Finnick grinning at him when he got his last promotion. Gale and Darius ribbing him about a new crush. Thom announcing his impending fatherhood. So many memories, and all they did was remind him how desperately lonely he was, despite his financial and professional success.
 Except that did matter tonight. It was Finnick’s time to celebrate, and he wound his way through the tables to the back corner where his friends waited.
 “Peeta Mellark! The man, the myth, the legend, right here in Ripper’s with us lowly humans.”
 Peeta couldn’t help but chuckle. “Good to see you, too, Finn. It’s been too long.”
 “That’s not our fault. Is it, boys?”
 “Who are you calling a boy?” Gale snorted over his beer. “I only see men here. At least, those of us sitting down. You and Mister Hotshot might not have reached full maturity yet, though.”
 Peeta laughed as Finnick flipped off the other guys at the table and then settled into the booth. It felt good to see his friends again. He needed to remember to make more time for them in the future.
 “So, how’s the high life, man?” Thom asked.
 Peeta shrugged and ordered before answering. Thanking the waitress, he slumped down in his seat and admitted, “Crazy busy, as always. I need a new administrative assistant. I’m working Delly to death, and she deserves better.”
 “Some of us would like to see our wives,” Darius grunted. “Should never have agreed when she asked.”
 “Didn’t realize she had to ask permission to leave the house,” Peeta answered pointedly.
 “Oh, come on, man. I didn’t mean it like that,” Darius protested. “We just have one of those marriages where we talk things through and make decisions together.”
 He knew he shouldn’t, but he envied Darius and Thom their marriages and Finnick his engagement. Even Gale had a serious girlfriend, although he hadn’t met her yet. Maybe that was why it didn’t seem too far-fetched when he spoke.
 “My girlfriend’s in between jobs. She’s a fantastic office manager. Maybe she could help you out.”
 “Seriously?”
 “Sure. I’ll have her give you a call.”
 “Thanks, man. You’ve just saved my life.”
 Finnick leaned in and grinned cheekily. “Great. Then you can afford to get drunk tonight.”
 “I really can’t.”
 “Too bad. Here’s our first round of shots.”
 ****
 Peeta woke the next morning hung the hell over. How he’d allowed his friends, in particular Finnick, to convince him to stay and then do shots was beyond him. His only excuse was that it was the weekend, and he didn’t have to go to the office today. Otherwise, his headache and significant dehydration might have killed him. He managed to stagger to the kitchen where he brewed a pot of coffee and downed half a liter of water before his phone rang.
 “Hawthorne. What’s up?” he rasped into the receiver.
 “Hey, Peet. I know it’s early, but my girl’s here, and I suggested she call you about the job. She’s game for it, so I figured I might as well hook you two up before I forget. You free to chat?”
 Peeta grunted but agreed. Reaching for a mug, he poured himself some coffee and added cream before settling at the counter. He wasn’t prepared for the snarky voice that echoed through the phone, but he immediately straightened when he heard it. The woman on the other end of the line was a spitfire and sounded exactly like what he needed to help keep his office running and give his oldest friend a break.
 “Gale tells me you need some help keeping your workplace running smoothly. I can do that for you, but I don’t come cheap. Pay me well, don’t give me shit, and I’ll make your life easier.”
 “That’s quite an offer, Ms., uh…?”
 “Mason. Johanna Mason. I’ve been keeping corporate America organized for the past ten years. You have quite a reputation. Youngest CEO at Panem Industries in ages. Survived the Coriolanus Snow purge and caught the eye of the board of directors in a good way. I think you surprised everyone when they realized you weren’t just a piece in their games. Congratulations.”
 “Thank you,” he answered, impressed with her knowledge of the business world. Gale must have given her a heads up, but he suspected she’d already known more than most. “You seem to be a player, too. I’m impressed.”
 “I’m very impressive. I’m sure you’ve heard about some of my best attributes from your friend, so let’s just move past the posturing and get to the specifics,” she announced, her voice businesslike. “I can start Monday. Gale indicated this could be temporary or long-term, depending on your other assistants. I’m amenable to either. As for my salary—”
 Peeta almost blanched at the figure but wasn’t deterred by her request. Good office managers were worth every cent they were paid, and Ms. Mason—Johanna! She was his friend’s girlfriend, after all—seemed to be exactly what he needed.
 “I have one caveat,” he insisted. “Gale is my friend, and you and he are together, but you are my employee. Our relationship needs to stay professional.”
 “Gale, honey,” she purred. “Peeta wants me to be professional. You think I can handle that?”
 Peeta cringed at the wet sounds in his ear. He’d be offended if Gale hadn’t taken the phone briefly and hissed, “She’s good for it, Mellark. You won’t regret it.”
 “Fine,” he muttered. “Can I call you Johanna? You’re hired. Thirty-day trial, and a five percent raise once you’ve proven yourself.”
 “You won’t need thirty days for that.”
 He was almost positive she was right, and he looked forward to Monday when he could offer Delly some time off to spend with her family.
 ****
 “I need that folder,” Peeta announced into his phone and scribbled a few notes on the report before him. Johanna swept into his office a few seconds later. She’d only been working for him for a week, but she’d already revamp his world. Everything ran smoother; Delly’d already put in for some well-deserved vacation, and he hadn’t been subjected to any inappropriate knowledge of his friend from his new employee. “Thanks, Jo. Can you—”
 “Already done. Meeting with Heavensbee is moved up to 1:00, and you have a business lunch tomorrow with Seneca Crane at the Capitol Grill. Both indicated their interest when I arranged the details.”
 “You are a gift,” he said, distracted by the email he’d just received about a new project in China. “Seriously, thank you for everything you do.”
 “No thanks needed. You pay me enough. I’m happy to make your life better.”
 He chuckled and sat back when she plopped a hot chocolate in front of him. “How’d you know? This is my favorite.”
 “You forget who I’m banging on the weekend?”
 “Gale, of course.”
 “And I don’t wait for the weekend, either,” she said with a wink over her shoulder. He smiled fondly as she slipped out the door and back to her desk. He understood what his friend saw in her. She didn’t take any shit, was sexy as hell, and knew how to get stuff done. If he had fifteen more like her, he’d take over the world. Not that he was too far off from that anyway.
 ****
 “You mind if I take a long lunch tomorrow?” Johanna asked as she handed Peeta several files and watched him tuck them into his briefcase. “A girlfriend of mine just got back to town, and I promised I’d meet up with her. Won’t happen again.”
 “Take all the time you need,” he agreed. “Delly can handle everything while you’re gone. It’s not a problem.”
 “Thanks, boss,” she said with a wink. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Got a hot date with my man.”
 Peeta chuckled as he shrugged on his jacket. “Tell Gale I said hi. Been a while since we hung out at Ripper’s.”
 “That’s because I make it worth it to him not to leave the house.”
 “I’m sure you do,” he mumbled as he headed for the elevator.
 “Good luck on your date!” she called as the doors slid shut, and he groaned.
 If she hadn’t reminded him at the last second, he could have argued with her, but now it was too late. He’d stupidly agreed to a setup. It was only drinks at a cocktail bar around the corner, but he had a million things to do before the next day. He didn’t have time to make small talk with a woman he didn’t know as they both sipped overpriced drinks and tried to figure out how long they had to stay before they escaped with a modicum of dignity. If he didn’t have to answer to Johanna the next day, he’d skip, but he just didn’t want to hear it. With a sigh, he turned left out of the building and made his way to meet his date.
 “Rue?” he guessed when he met the slim, African American woman sitting at the bar alone. She was lovely and smart and very sweet, but he could tell within five minutes that they weren’t right for each other. He offered a second round, but she declined politely.
 “You’re a great guy,” she said with a kiss to his cheek when she slid from her stool to the ground. “I’m glad we met.”
 “Likewise,” he nodded. “Best of luck with your startup.”
 He watched her walk away with a half-smile on his face and a hint of regret. It wasn’t that she’d passed on him. That wasn’t it at all. Despite being a perfectly attractive woman, there wasn’t a spark between them, and he’d been too deeply in love before to settle for anything less. With another huge sigh—they seemed to be becoming a habit—he grabbed his suitcase and coat and headed home to his empty penthouse.
 He hated being lonely.
 ****
 “Johanna, can you come in here, please?” Peeta waited for her reply, but when he got nothing, he walked to his office door and poked his head out. “Jo?”
 Delly glanced up from her desk and replied, “She’s still at lunch. You told her to take the time, remember?”
 “I do, actually. Sorry. It slipped my mind.”
 At that moment, the elevator door opened, and his employee walked down the hall, chatting happily with another woman. She drew up when she saw him and narrowed her eyes.
 “It’s not even 1:00 yet. Surely, the place didn’t fall apart with me gone only 80 minutes.” Johanna rolled her eyes at him and waved to her companion. “Peeta Mellark, this is Katniss Everdeen. Katniss, Peeta. I left something in my desk for her. She’s not staying.”
 The woman in question glanced back and forth between him and her friend uncertainly. She was slight and unassuming with storm gray eyes and thick, dark hair worked into a loose braid. A few strands of hair escaped and framed her face, which was far prettier than he’d realized at first glance. Quickly, he snapped to attention. Stepping toward her, he extended his hand and waited for her to shake it. When she did, electricity sparked through him.
 “Ms. Everdeen,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Any friend of Johanna’s is a friend of mine. Welcome to Panem Industries.”
 “Sheesh! She’s not interviewing for a job,” Johanna snickered. She’s just here to get something from me, and she’s Gale’s friend, too. I’m surprised you haven’t met before now. Those two have been thick as thieves since they were tweens. You really haven’t heard of her before?”
 “Why would I have?”
 “I thought you and Gale were tight?”
 “We are tight. What does that have to do with anything?”
 Katniss smiled wryly and spoke in a smoky voice that shot straight to his groin. “Gale and I were best friends for years. We had a rough patch when he developed feelings for me in high school. Didn’t talk much through college, but we worked it out. I think Jo’s just surprised he didn’t mention me to his friends.”
 “You okay there, boss?” Johanna asked, her eyes wary as she observed him.
 Peeta shook himself, aware that he’d been frozen as Katniss’ voice washed over him. “Fine! I’m fine. Katniss, it’s wonderful to meet you. Johanna, I need to see you in my office when you’re finished with your friend.”
 He moved quickly and closed the door behind him. Walking on unsteady legs back to his desk, he sank into his chair. Needless to say, he was unsettled. Something about those smoke colored eyes and husky voice had reached inside him and pulled feelings to the surface he hadn’t felt in ages, and it was disconcerting in a way he wasn’t quite ready to admit. Flustered, he turned in his chair and gazed out over the city until Johanna entered his office. It was only then that he could expel Katniss from his mind.
 ****
 “You know, it’s bad enough that you foisted your girlfriend on me as an employee,” Peeta teased as he downed another whiskey. “The least you could do is pass on your best friend’s number. No, scratch that. The least you could do was warn me your best friend from high school is smoking hot now.”
 Gale tipped his head back and laughed hard at his friend and Peeta’s obvious attempt to weasel Katniss’ number from him. Finnick and Thom hooted their amusement, and Darius waved to the waitress for another round of drinks. Peeta hadn’t meant to end up at Ripper’s again, but he’d been off kilter all week. When Finn had asked, Peeta shrugged and went.
 “You only like me for my girlfriends,” Gale teased and clinked his glass with Thom. “To be fair, they are pretty spectacular. I have great taste in women.”
 “Says the most modest man alive,” Finnick crowed. “You like them wild, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
 “Wait,” Peeta blurted. “Wild? Katniss?”
 “Not in the traditional sense,” Gale drawled after a long pull of his beer. “Nothing like Jo. She’s amazing—completely herself, likes to party, will rip me apart with her bare hands if I cross her—but Katniss is something else. Feisty but stealthy. She can skin a squirrel and look like an angel doing it. I’ve never been able to explain her to anyone. She really has no idea the effect she has.”
 “But you dated? You two?” Peeta prodded. Something about the thought of Gale kissing the woman he’d met made his stomach clench.
 “Not for long. She wasn’t much interested, but I would have given my left arm for her back in the day. She’s only improved with age. I’m lucky she still bothers with little old me.”
 Peeta snorted and flicked his eyes to each of his friends. Gale may not have been the best-looking guy in the group—Finn pretty much had that locked no matter who was around—but Gale’s tall, dark, and brooding nature made him pretty popular with the opposite sex. He hadn’t had trouble meeting women in ages. Unlike Peeta, who’d had terrible luck with women both before and after Cashmere. Couldn’t get them to look at him instead of his money now that he was wealthy, and he’d been dismissed for being way too nice when he was younger. His former fiancée had been an exception, but then he couldn’t get her to stay, with or without his bank account.
 “But seriously, dude. Help a guy out. I’ve been single for ages,” Peeta wheedled, but Gale just shook his head.
 “If she asks, I’ll give your info, but there’s no way I’m gonna try to set her up. I value my life and limbs too much to intervene.”
 “You just said you would have given your left arm for her!”
 “Back in high school and college, man. Not now. I need them both for the work I do.”
 Peeta conceded then. It wasn’t like him to pump his friends for information about women, and he wasn’t going to start now. Maybe she’d come by work again with Jo, or maybe Johanna would—
 No. Johanna would not. That was a terrible idea, so Peeta shoved Katniss Everdeen from his mind and sipped his drink. If nothing else, he could use a night out with his friends.
 ****
 Later that night, when Peeta lay in bed alone, his penthouse dark and empty, and his heart shriveling with sadness, he allowed Katniss to flutter through his thoughts. If he imagined her in love with him, no one could prove it. Just like there were no witnesses when he reached into his sleep pants and palmed his half-hard cock.
 He hadn’t masturbated with anyone particular in mind for a very long time—not since Cashmere and he had been a couple. There was something intensely erotic about stroking himself with mental images of a specific woman smiling at him, touching him, taking his dick in her mouth and sucking until—
 “Oh, fuck,” he hissed as he swelled and hardened. “Katniss. Yeah, just like that.”
 He fumbled in his bedside table for some lube and was so worked up he squirted half the bottle onto his pelvis. Rubbing his hand in the fluid, he groaned when he wrapped his hand back around his erection and tugged. His hips bucked, and his headboard slapped against the wall. Startled by the sound, he bit his lip and shook his head.
 It seemed wrong to jack off like this when he barely knew her. Stranger fantasies were fine, but this was one of his best mate’s long-time friends. Johanna would rip him apart if she knew what Peeta was doing and leave the leftovers for Gale to destroy.
 God, he didn’t care, he realized. Something about Katniss Everdeen made him want to throw caution to the wind. He’d been a goner since he first heard her voice, and he’d paid his dues with his loneliness. One night of lustful thoughts and indulgence seemed like a just reward for being single for so long. He’d only met her once, but there were all the tell-tale signs of a massive crush. Except, yes, he was attracted to her, but he also wondered if he might have a case of love at first sight. She invaded his thoughts constantly, and he ached to see her again.
 Until that could happen, though, he needed some relief. Closing his eyes and tossing his head back into the pillow, he moved his hand until he gained a steady rhythm. The wet squelching sounds of the lube on his skin echoed through the apartment and stirred mental images that made his breath come harder and faster.
 In his fantasy, her lithe body bounced on top of him, riding him with abandon and wanton pleasure painting her face. Her small breasts jiggled prettily with dusty nipples pert and pointed and inviting his mouth to lavish them with attention. His fist tightened, he jerked harder, and then—
 He whited out, stars bursting behind his eyelids, ecstasy flooding his body, and all the tension draining through ropes of thick fluid painting his torso. Dazed, he lay there for several minutes, doing nothing but enjoying the lazy tingle in his veins and the dopey grin turning up his lips with delight. His spent cock filled his right fist, and he squeezed it a few times to keep the buzz going.
 When he could think clearly again, he opened his eyes and snorted at the mess. He was sticky and sweaty and slick with his cum and lube. Covered in his ejaculate, he stumbled to the bathroom on shaky legs. He meant to rinse off and then drop into a dreamless sleep, but he ended up hard and wanting a second time as the water coursed over him. Turning the temperature to cold didn’t help either. Only another round with his fist calmed him enough to fall into a restless, dream-filled slumber. His body insisted on round three the next morning.
 Within a few days, a pattern emerged. He woke hard, masturbated, and then went to the office where two women ran his world. When he returned home, he beat off again, sometimes two times, before he was able to sleep. By the second week, Peeta had to admit his feelings for Katniss weren’t going away.
 His only choice was to get her to fall in love with him, too, or his name was Peeta Mellark. CEO of Panem Industries, captain of industry, jilted fiancé, and desperately in love with Katniss Everdeen. Johanna was going to have a field day with this.
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stevenbasic · 4 years
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Sitting alone in the small chair in front of her desk, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was already being submissive, that he was acting contrite, before the meeting even began. He’d been cowed by what happened last night, and could swear the girls were looking at him funny when he skulked into his office this morning. Did they all know already?? What happened with Randi? It all made him nervous, and he knew it did nothing but undermine his authority and make him look weak.
And then there were the stream of aggressively confident posts Melissa had put on Instagram last night, and those he’d woken up to. “I’m proud of being a woman”? #simpforme, #motheryourman, #getready?  “there’s gonna be a lot more of it”?? #stronger #bigger #successful. And - the baby-bird thing??? Jesus. It was like he was watching her spread her wings and he felt, this morning, like he was just cowering in her shadow. 
She’d texted him this morning, said she’d wanted to meet with him in her office at 9, and had cleared the patients from his schedule. It was 9:05, looking at his watch. Every moment that went by felt like another nail in the coffin of his control of the office. I can’t let this happen, he tried to steel himself, I have to somehow show that I’m in charge.
But then, he heard it. The unmistakable staccato of her heels approaching down the hallway - click-clack-click-clack, echoing like gunshots - was heavier than one would expect in the corridor. The sound made his heart start to race. Why am I so nervous??  The Instagram posts and the events of last night - the girls in his apartment, him stupidly letting Randi once again have her way with him - had him on edge. Plus, he slept lousy. What did Melissa want to meet about?
click-clack-click-clack. She was almost there. 
Remember, he told himself, she works for you. 
But as soon as she walked in, when she entered the room and seemed to draw all light to her, he immediately felt himself to be in the presence of a more powerful person. Reflexively, he stood, and tried to keep from gaping. Oh my god she’s huge, he balked, astounded by her height. The only reason she hadn’t had to duck to get through the doorway was because she’d had such large, eight-foot doors installed.
“Good morning,” she said, her smile ebullient, happy to find him here and deferentially waiting for her, standing at attention, “Oh, so chivalrous! I like a man with good manners.” She watched his face as he took in her outfit, her figure, how tall she was in her new shoes. Immediately she knew she’d chosen right: the aggressively low-cut pink sweater, the high-waisted, dark grey pants that helped make her look both hippy, authoritative and even leggier than usual. And then there were the shoes. 
“th-those are some heels,” he admitted, his obsequious gaze finding the safest place to linger: her feet and the black, patent leather pumps which made her...oh my god...he couldn’t bear to think how tall she’d be. 
“Yeah huh?” she smiled, appreciating the crack in his voice, the submissive body language he was already assuming, standing there for her. She moved towards her desk, making sure to step as close to him as possible. “My friend Abby dropped them off for me this morning. They’re eight inches.”
“w-wow,” was all he could manage, dwarfed as he felt as she - standing well more than a foot taller than him - passed by. He knew he’d already started acting the simp, taken off his guard by her appearance, and was too dazed to resolve himself otherwise. 
“They make me almost six-foot ten,” she stated, seeing how flabbergasted by her height he seemed. Something inside her urged her to step back closer to him, stand above him, demonstrate how big she was and make him feel small. That feeling made her tingle dangerously, rushed blood to her chest, and it was a hard instinct to fight back. But instead she knew she should proceed carefully with him, start business, and so she moved behind her desk. “You’re waiting for me to sit, aren’t you?” she asked with an approving smile, “such a gentleman.”
“Oh, haha, yeah I guess…” he said, still finding himself awkwardly standing in place, fidgeting. 
“Looks like your mother trained you right," she responded, and immediately saw the wince in his expression. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie,” she cooed, as he cast his eyes aside, “I forgot. Forgive me?”  She watched him nod, wanly. It was obviously, even to this day, a tender subject with him. I have to remember, she thought to herself, poor thing didn’t have a proper mommy. 
"Well, every girl likes a respectful man,” she continued, with a munificent smile. Standing behind her desk, she felt the authority the office’s place of power gave her. “Especially one who knows his place in front of the alpha female. But no...sit.”
He looked at her as if confused. She was waiting for him patiently, like she was testing his resolve. Reflexively, though, he began to sit, and felt immediately emasculated as she remained standing. 
“Good boy,” she said in approval, allowing mischief into her smile for the first time. Oooo this is funn, she caught herself musing. 
The shock of that - the infantile little praise, the talk of “alpha female” - was not one he’d expected. She’d played around like this last week, at the beach conference...but hearing it here in the office was another thing altogether. “We’re - haha - w-we’re still doing that?” he asked, looking up at her, feeling a dark shiver of self-abasement and secretly marveling at the perfect hourglass her trim but wantonly full figure cut above him, silhouetted against the white wall behind. 
“oooo remember, sweetie,” she replied, “we’re alone, it’s just you and me.” With that, on cue, she tapped a button on her desk and the door to the office closed behind him; she liked the startled look that brought to him. “We don’t have to worry about what anyone else thinks and just fall into our...natural roles,” she purred, putting her hands on the desk to lean over towards him. She smiled as his eyes predictably darted to her cleavage. “We’ll just let nature take its course,” she stated, “How does that sound, Dr. J?”
“Oh, uh…” he stammered, temporarily spellbound by the sheer volume of bosom she’d put on display. This sweater, he found himself thinking, she wore this on purpose. And just as he was almost able to tear his gaze away from her breasts, she casually squeezed them together and his eyes remained fixed, for more than a moment too long. Letting nature take its course, he thought, might end up with my face buried up to my ears. 
And so she had him speechless, already; that got her grinning. She brushed away an imaginary nothing from the swell of her right beast, keeping his gaze fixed right where she wanted it. Melissa knew what she needed to say in this meeting, the words she had prepared to get him to do what she wanted. But, gauging his reaction, she was seeing already that she wouldn’t have to work too hard. Her tits could do the heavy lifting. 
“Enjoying the view?” she asked, after finally drawing her fingers away from her chest and immediately causing him to look away. He flushed red, caught staring.  ”Omigosh you’re so cute when you’re blushing,” she giggled, only to cause a wave of jiggles to joggle through her chest, drawing his hapless gaze for another brief second. Her breasts were just so big, the huge soft swells of her cleavage the main attraction in the room and a magnet to his eyes. 
She laughed. “So, you know why I’m dressed like this, right?” she asked, a wry smile acknowledging the blatant aggression of her outfit, “the heels, the tight pants…” For a moment she looked down at her own chest, then locked eyes with him. “...the boobage?”
“Uhhhh….”
”You know what I'm going to ask for, of course?” she continued, becoming struck by how adorable he was in his tongue-tied, defenseless denseness. 
“A-a raise?” he asked, struggling with all his will to keep her gaze. 
Her laugh was deep and sultry, one of a woman pleased. “No haha but…” she said, as she then gathered her arms under her breasts, cradling them to exaggerate their size, “…could I get one if I asked really nicely?”
Oh my god, he thought, as he felt his dick start to stiffen, no. this is...too much. But he didn’t have the will to protest, scold her. “Y-you know money’s been tight…”
“Haha I’m joking, you know I’m teasing!” she laughed, enjoying the bewildered look on his face and standing up straight again, “I know your numbers are down. But that’s why we need to talk, about Abby…”
Abby, he thought, she’s the sales-rep friend...from that weird pharm company. He’d resisted meeting with her from the beginning, unwilling to waste precious time on another salesmonkey pushing snake oil. He’d been inundated with their brochures, ignored countless phone messages, avoided their research papers in his email, and still he had no idea what their product really was. It seemed like they made one thing and one thing only: some sort of supplement for women of childbearing age. His was a geriatric practice! Why would they want him to be part of some clinical trial? It really made no sense and he’s really wanted no part of it. 
But he knew Melissa felt otherwise.
Indeed, she knew getting a meeting together was important to Evolution Pharmaceuticals, really the main reason Abby had sent her the posting for this job in the first place. Abby had encouraged her to go for the position even though it was frankly above her abilities. But it was something, a challenge, a job maybe she could grow into…
...and now she fully intended to, in spades. 
Melissa leaned in further again, over the desk towards him, her suddenly soft doe-eyes seeking his out. “Remember..it’s just you and me,” she sweetly cooed, putting her full breasts once again on obvious display for him, “nobody’s going to think less of you if you agree to this…” She allowed her chest to slowly push forward, her shoulders back.  “...just let nature take its course.”
She knew he heard the encouragement in her voice. Her beauty held real power that she knew how to use, and she intended to put him at ease. In the moment, she knew he didn’t even realize that it was already working. Her eyes searched his and saw something they were looking for.  A warm smile formed on her lips and she continued to let her body do all the work. His eyes all but unabashedly on her tits again, this was already happening just the way Abby said it would. 
“So...about meeting with Abby...” she began, letting go just the faintest waft of her pheromones, to drift across the desk, just enough to-
“yes okay I’ll do it,” he answered, without even having to be asked. 
What?? Haha omigod. 
“You...will?” she beamed, her smile becoming a sudden, dazzling grin. It can’t be that easy, can it? Admittedly a bit surprised she was immediately struck by one self-aggrandizing thought: she loved being this beautiful...and this big. She loved the feeling of being stronger and more powerful than those around her. She loved how her body, her buxom sexuality, could be so simply and so extravagantly too much for people; how it reduced them to putty in her hands, paralyzing them for her with nothing more than a smile and a look. And, what’s more, she was beginning to realize what else she could accomplish, given the time. She knew, secretly, that the bigger she got, the more Melissssy there was, the easier it would all become.
So bring it on, she thought to herself, give me more.  She had to keep herself from laughing. Who needs an associate’s degree when you wear an I-cup?
“Ok I’ll call her, put it in your schedule right away,” Melissa said in victory, knowing she had to be gentle and watching as he had begun, it seemed, to sheepishly shrink into the chair below her. This was emasculating for him, she knew, capitulating like he was in his utter defenselessness. It gave her a thrill, she had to admit, flexing her authority here in the office, dwarfing him like this, dwarfing a man. She knew it was possibly unfair, that she’d had the deck stacked against him by coming at him with all this in his most fragile moments...but it needed to be done, and she would show him it was all for the best. And, she thought slyly, she would someday make it up to him, make him forget how little she’d just made him feel. Unless, of course, he likes that sort of thing... 
But in the meantime-“, she knew she had other work to do, and as the saying goes about the hot iron and the striking-
“Let’s talk about new staff,” she said innocently, “I want to hire twelve more girls.”
“T-twelve?” he blurted, shaken a bit back to himself, “Really? Didn’t we lose just, like...five?” 
“It was three, and then three part-timers,” she corrected him, “But I want to bring on twelve full-time people. A nurse practitioner, maybe a PA, a nurse Nurse Asstha...Attess…”
“Aesthetician?” he helped, even through his disarray.
“Yes, that..!” she giggled, “I’ll learn how to say that someday!” Twirling her hair girlishly in between the fingers of one hand, she stood again. “New providers, they’ll all need support staff, plus we have to replace the girls in accounting,” she listed, now starting to step away from behind her desk, “and we need a new supervisor for the front desk, unless you think Audrey is up for the job…?”
He paused, a bit confused, watching as she lazily stepped towards him. Was she actually asking for his opinion? Wait...he thought, why am I surprised by th- This was obviously getting away from him too quickly. “Uh, sure, but…” he began, “are you positive we can handle so many ne-”
“Oh, sweetie,” she cooed, now standing right next to him, above him, noticing how he’d reflexively turned his chair to face her, “we can handle it no problem. Maybe it’s just you that’s having some trouble?” She looked down at him, her employer, and mused on how anxious and small he looked. She reached down to tenderly push a wayward lock of hair behind his ear. “Besides...don’t you want to see us grow?”
What did she mean? “W-well, yes, of course,” he agreed, fighting the urge to turn his head, nuzzle his face into her soft hand as it continued to stroke his temple, above his ear, “of course I want the p-practice to do well. To, uh...grow.” His thoughts drifted to a day, maybe not far away, of an office she’d built for him, of being surrounded by more women than he could count, all young and beautiful, all doting on him...and of course, all beholden to her. 
Is that what she meant by wanting to “see us grow”?
“So, uh, sure…” he said, knowing again it was another little surrender, “hire whoever you want…” He knew this was reckless, foolish even, and could only hope beyond hope that this money from - what was it? Lean In? - would be enough. 
Melissa - thrilled again but now keeping her grin in check - saw the doubt in his face. She understood this was hard on him, watching the reins of his business being taken by another, and knew she should...reward him.
She stroked his hair - oooo he had such nice hair - and thought to herself. 
It was just like Abby said. This was a man, she considered, remembering the type of pictures he’d been hoarding on his computer, who needed a strong female figure. This was a man, remembering what he’d told her about his childhood, who craved a woman’s constant attention, unconditional affection. This was a man - it almost made her giggle - who needed a mommy. 
Just last night in DM Ms. Zazanetti - oops, I’m supposed to call her ‘Sara’! - had told it to her straight, made her understand. It's not taboo that he’d been stockpiling pictures of beautiful, ultra-bosomy, giant women on his computer, but rather the reasonable needs of manchild who never really had a childhood. He had told it to her himself, the night at that bull-riding bar: that he “never really had a mother.” And she’d heard it from Rina - who come to find out used to work here, and was one of his old flings - he’d lost her at a very young age.
Omigod the poor thing!
She knelt down in front of him, heart growing in her chest as she looked deep into his eyes. The desperation, she knew, ran deep in his mind, looking for fully blossomed women. His breast obsession was  a consequence of what he missed as a child, a toddler, an infant - being coddled, nurtured, loved. And, she reminded herself, it wasn’t just pictures of random huge, big-breasted women he’d had on his computer. There were also countless pictures of her. It was a significant moment, when she’d realized what she represented to him, what she could strive to be for him - even if his male pride keeps him from ever really expressing himself, admitting what he needs. 
#motheryourman, remember?
Still gazing at him, wondering what he was thinking, she smiled to herself. Well, he’s not “your man” but - haha - close enough, right?
“You’ve been doing such a good job, being so strong,” she said to him, tenderly, taking one of his hands into both of hers and resting it on his lap, “especially with everything going on.”
”uhhh...what do u mean?” he asked. There was - good god - so much going on. But...looking into her eyes, he suddenly knew what she meant.
“When were you going to tell me? I had to hear it from Marisela,” she said, sounding a bit sad that he would not confide in her, about his troubles at home...or, rather, what used to be his home, “I thought we were friends…”
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Thanks to GTScity reader @sherlock for inspirations and ideas - they really helped the post coalesce. And to FantasticMrMoose - fans may notice that a few passages are all but stolen right from "Sexy Lexie": awesome story!
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aibrepus · 3 years
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Hello. This is probably my last post on this blog, I don't intend to post any more after that. My reach for some reason has been getting ridiculously small these days and I have over 300 followers who don't interact with me, in any way.
This is more of an outburst than anything else. I am constantly taking impulsive desperate attitudes that are supposed to make people look at me and this is just one more of them, although it almost never works. I doubt anyone will read this.
My name is C. I am 16 years old. I'm brazilian, so I apologize for gramatical mistakes. I wrote this text when I was 15 or 14, but I updated it. I've tried to publicize it before. I'm trying again.
First, I have a dysfunctional family. It was something that happened when my stepfather arrived many years ago, I was 6 or 7 at the time. My mom is divorced and I don't know my biological dad. She raised me and my older brother on her own and was always looking for steady partners because of - which I didn't understand before but now I see - financial issues. She was a teacher, now retired, so our condition of life was very simple. My stepfather is also retired and has always been paid very well, compared to her. So they started dating and I was too young to see any problems with that or even to understand what that meant. He brought more money to our family and the financial stability that my mother was looking for. We left a tiny and falling apart house to live in a much bigger and more beautiful one. He looked ok at first. But after a while it seemed that my stepfather didn't really like the way our family worked or the way my mother treated me and my brother and decided that he wanted things his way. I also remember very well the first times he raised his voice to me or my brother and one of the things I most regret in life is to have let him go around dictating rules over us from the beginning, because letting it all happen just ruined my family. My stepfather started to become unbearable for both of us. Nothing was ever good for him. He was always pointing out defects in everything we did. He was always screaming. He was always talking to my mother about how she had raised us wrong. Everything had to be his way, how he wanted it, when he wanted it. It became a problem for us in a very short time. My mother also ended up moving to something a little more like him, since the way she acted "was not good". I remember thinking to myself about these things since I was 8 years old. My brother and I hated him. Soon my mother and stepfather became my two greatest enemies and this is still the case today.
Basically, to save your time, I spent all these last years of my life hating my stepfather so hard that everything he does disgusts me. When I'm on his side, it feels like I'm on the side of a complete stranger. Everything I do inside this house is meticulously thought out and planned to please everyone and especially him. The simplest tasks become nervous anxiety at the thought that I may be doing something wrong. Anything is a reason to complain and raise his voice. And now, as I said, it is not just him, because my mother is not very different and recently it has been even worse. In the beginning of my adolescence, when my family became really unbearable, I started to isolate myself in my room all day and now I just go out to eat and use the bathroom. And I do it precisely to avoid meeting anyone. I don't even eat with them anymore.
My mother is a submissive woman who knows very well that our family is horrible but we still depend on his money. That's why they never fought and got along as far as possible because she never opposes him, always agrees on everything. My relationship with her is terrible. I remember that before my stepfather our life was simpler but we were happy in some way and now because of the decision that my mother made our family is totally over. Nobody here spends a day without complaining about the other. My brother is always getting more credit than I am for things he doesn't even do. I have always been a good daughter. I were always a quiet child, my grades were always great. My brother is a grown man with 20 years on his back who can't find a job, is still in high school because he repeated two years and does nothing at home but always receives the best things while I always stay with the rest and have to run after absolutely everything. I see people talking about their brothers with that "we fight, but we love each other" story and all I can feel is envy because I never had this relationship with him. We hate each other as much as we hate my stepfather.
Last year, when I had just returned from school, the two fought. My mom was still working, so she wasn't at home. I was inside my room with the door closed, as usual. Recently my mother had talked to my stepfather about us to try to ease the situation. I heard him entering the room where my brother was. He complained about collecting clothes on the clothesline. He muttered "and then you two complain about me" and then went to the kitchen. My brother followed and retaliated for the first time. My stepfather must have come over to hold him or something and they started fighting. Really fighting. Punching each other. I heard the sound of someone fiddling with the sink drainer and then my stepfather told my brother to lower something. I was terrified. I started to cry and to shake. I took out my cell phone and my headphones and put the music on at maximum so I wouldn't have to listen. I sent a message to my mom saying what was going on. Of course, one hour they stopped. I was crying all afternoon. I've never been so scared.
Most of my problems are related to my family.
2016 was the worst year of my life because of them. The fights were very constant since the beginning of the year. At that time I was entering 6th grade and my grades plummeted. I couldn't concentrate on classes, I didn't have the willpower to do the activities, or the school works that I never used to do, or anything, whether it was related to school or not. Before that the situation was already terrible but I believe that that year it started to really get worse. I had no friends. I had just changed schools and was completely alone. My self-esteem was horrible. There was only one girl who talked to me but she was always exchanging me for other people and leaving me aside. I was always an introvert, very quiet, and I couldn't make friends at all. This girl was doing me really bad - once, we were talking to our history teacher and she told me that I was despicable for being very pessimistic and for, according to her, "not living". When I heard that I didn't think too much about it but then I started to think and I have never felt so bad in my life. I spent weeks thinking about it. I started to accept as true the fact that I was unable to make friends because I was a despicable person and that is why no one liked me. It was the most painful thing I have ever heard.
Still in 2016, we made a travel to the south because my stepfather is from there. We went to visit his family and it was not the first time, actually. It happened in December. I was really excited but the travel only resulted in more fights. The only thing I asked my mother for was a book I saw in a store that was about depression and I ended up earning nothing, just like my brother. I was really upset. My stepfather kept on teasing me. We were all asleep in his parents' living room and one night, when everyone else was asleep, I laid on the mattress crying low all night.
I was constantly thinking about suicide. It scares me to think about the possibility that, if I had an easy and fast way at the time, this could have happened. I was thinking of talking to someone at the life appreciation center but I didn't. I did a lot of research on the technique they used and realized that perhaps their rhetorical questions would not help me prevent my own suicide if I got in touch. In the end, I never told any of this to anyone. There are only two people who know the whole situation but apart from them, no one else knows what I went through that year and what I go through now. Not even my own family knew that I was thinking of killing myself because of them.
I was alone. I couldn't count on my family. I couldn't count on friends because I didn't have any. I couldn't count on anyone because I just didn't trust anyone for that. Totally alone, thinking about suicide. I was 11 years old.
In 2019 I started to self harm. I was in 9th grade and at the beginning of the school year I found a small razor inside the used art book when I first opened it. It was the opportunity I was in need of. I started to cut my legs instead of my arms so my family wouldn't see. My mom saw it, anyway. I said I did that because of them. Yes, my mother was desperate, she cried, she told me that she had related to my stepfather for the money and that my father was abusive to her and so on. She said that if she had known that my brother and I would be so unhappy, she would not have done that. And I started attending a psychologist.
What good did it do?
Me, who at first was moved by the things that my mother told me, blaming myself for being a terrible daughter and for giving her such disgust, in the end I saw her returning to the same disparaging habits as before. I still go to a psychologist today, but a different one from the first.
First, the psychologist never helped me and does not help me at all. They are the two who know what happens, although I no longer have contact with the first one. I basically go into the clinic so she can tell me everything I want to hear and everything I already know. The treatment is having no effect on my point of view and I suggested to her that perhaps medications would improve my mood, my lack of desire for everything, my lack of hunger and my insomnia. My mom was really upset because she didn't want me to take medication, but my psychologist is insisting and the consultation with the psychiatrist will probably happen sometime. But secondly, right after I started going to psychologists, my mother did absolutely nothing to change my reality at home and started to fight and yell at me in the same way that she did before. I was really stupid to have fallen into that little theater of hers. The problem is in them, and it is useless to send me to a psychologist in the hope of making me better if when I return home the same problems are repeated and everyone goes back to fighting, complaining and throwing everything at me. My stepfather never even bothered to change his conduct because of that but I expected a lot more from my mom. Pathetic to believe that something was going to change. She is spending money aimlessly on consultations and I wonder if that is what she pays so dearly for. To upset me and then send me to a psychologist for not being able to take care of her own children hoping that this will change something.
Anyway, I don't tell her that consultations don't work because I don't want to waste my time with another exhausting discussion. I always heard from people that I should talk to my family if something was wrong. I've tried to talk to them a million times and I'm where I am. There is no conversation here. All of this about my consultations is very frustrating because I always hear people talking about therapy as if it were something miraculous that will definitely help, which just doesn't happen to me. Going to psychologists does not help me.
In conclusion, I still don't stop at the urge to self-harm. My leg is full of scars and there is no one to see them. My psychologist doesn't know. I suppose she doesn't even know that I'm there because of that. In fact, there are many things that my psychologist doesn't know because I don't tell her.
Again, in 2019, thanks to a girl in my classroom, I also started drinking. I asked her to go to one of these teenage meetings and she told me that they went to the market every Wednesday to drink and smoke. Another opportunity that I needed. I thought it was time to stop being the good daughter. I tried to be it for a long time for my family. They didn't deserve to have a trophy daughter to go around showing off to friends like they did to me. I went out with them that day and drank. Very simple, actually. I found out that I am very weak. I got drunk, of course. I threw up a lot when I got home. Nobody noticed anything. And I've been in this for a long time now. I also started drinking at the beginning of the school year. When I'm drunk, I don't have to be thinking about school, or my family, or friends, or anything else. My bad reality is much lighter.
I didn't want to have to resort to drinking and smoking to be able to forget what I live inside my house. I really didn't want to. I didn't want to be that teenager. I didn't want to have to do that. I didn't want this to be the only way to make me happy for at least a few hours. I didn't want any of that.
I'm not in it because I think it's cool or because I want to be a cool teenager who drinks and smokes. It started out as a form of revenge, but then I discovered that it could actually be a valve.
I know I'm throwing my life in the trash. I know I shouldn't be doing any of this. But I need my ways to get out of this house. I can't stay in a toxic place all the time that makes me sad all the time. I avoid going back here when I'm out. I just don't want to be here anymore. I linger on the street when I come back from school so I don't have to arrive so soon. I used to go out every week. And I hope I'll be out again when the pandemic is over.
The saddest thing about the self-destructive way of life is when no one notices it. In so long that I do this, my family has never noticed. I kept coming home drunk and the most my mother ever did was to suspect when I said I was going out on my birthday. I disguise it very well, so that must be the reason.
Since I started entering adolescence, I have never made friends again - although I remember that feeling of loneliness from a very young age. There were some people I talked to at school, but I never trusted anyone. A friend to me would be much more than someone you just talk to or hang out with on a daily basis, I think. I can't talk to people. I cannot introduce myself to them. I can't socialize with them. Nowhere. Not on the internet, not at school, not even on the street when i'm drinking.
I did a lot of research and I'm almost sure that I have a severe social phobia and I'm going to talk about it with my psychologist.
I tried to make up for it by posting the texts I write on reading platforms to see if I could get any fame from it. I always wrote. My texts are mostly oneshots that I write according to what I am feeling, so my thoughts and my personal life are very much exposed in them. My constant readings have improved my vocabulary and grammar. I really care about my texts. And I also draw. I have been drawing since I was little and also regularly, so I draw very well. Everyone knows that I draw well but nobody knows about my texts. Writing and drawing is all I know how to do. My texts and drawings are all I have. My family took a lot of things from me. My family is still taking everything from me, but I put my heart into every word and illustration because it is the only thing I have left. But it doesn't matter. I've posted more than 30 short stories out there that hardly receive views, just like the illustrations I post. I wanted to work with one of these things and pursue a career mainly with drawing but I am a failure in both. Nobody reads my stories and nobody sees my drawings.
Sometimes I take the texts from my own diary. Sometimes, they carry so much truth and so much need that I collapse on myself in the end. My own tales move me. I put all of myself in them and in the drawings. I produce them with all my soul. But whatever. I don't think it's enough for people.
That is the question.
I feel like a ghost. It's almost as if I don't exist anywhere.
I am totally alone. I don't feel loved by anyone. At home I have a dysfunctional family and the only person here who seems to care about me is my mother, disregarding that she is also responsible for having ruined my life. At school, I am completely alone in the classroom, or at lunch, or any other part of the day, and I simply don't speak to anyone. On the street, I still have to settle for the least amount of people who also ignore me and hardly talk to me or take my desires and opinions into consideration. In social networks, where I should get support from people like me or at least disclose the only things I know how to do, I end up receiving the same cold indifference and I end up being alone anyway.
It seems that nobody cares about me. It seems that if I died, it wouldn't make any difference. It feels like I'm in the wrong place.
Everyone always says things like "you are not alone" or "there are people who love you" and etc., but I literally have no one. I can't socialize anywhere. Everyone ignores me. Everyone makes me feel like I don't exist. I am a failure at everything.
I dont know what I'm doing here. Reaching adulthood and leaving this place is the only hope I have of being able to be happy.
I wanted to have a normal life. A normal family. Friends. People who care about me. People who love me. I would give literally anything to have the childhood that I didn't have because of people who were supposed to love and support me and actually made me hate my own life. Anything to be a normal teenager who doesn't need to resort to self-mutilation or drugs to escape problems. Anything to at least have some friends.
I don't know what to do.
I've tried everything to make people like me. I've tried for a long time to be someone I'm not for that. I am constantly taking desperate and impulsive actions just to see if I can get anything, such as this post, but it is always in vain. They say that if you don't give up, you get things. I've been here trying for so long. I put so much of myself in drawings and texts. What do I get from that? What do I get out of trying? I've been doing these things for so long. All these years trying. All these years of holding on. I'm tired of trying. I'm tired of holding on.
All I want most in life is just for someone to look at me. Someone to look at me and see all these things. Someone to show that they care. Anything. I just wanted someone to care.
I’m practically screaming for help and it just seems like nobody cares.
On this quarantine, I have been without talking to practically anyone other than my family and my psychologist for months. Nobody came after me. Nobody sent me a message. Nobody even gave me a "happy birthday". I disappeared, deleted my few contacts, stopped using my inactive Whatsapp. Nobody asked me why. Nobody even noticed. Nobody cares enough. Nobody ever cares enough.
I wake up every day with the first thought that my life is terrible and that I will still have to deal with this family and this loneliness for a long time before I can get out of it. I have no motivation for anything else. Writing and drawing no longer seem like flashy activities. They are no longer helping. I can't stop crying all the time. My mother and stepfather made me an extremely sensitive person. I go around showing people that I have a strong personality, or that I am a cold and impassive person when in fact I am completely falling apart and nothing hurts more than knowing that no one cares. Just listening to someone screaming in an argument, even if it's not me, is enough to make me nervous.
I've been in this for a long time and I can't take it anymore. I wanted to have a happy childhood and adolescence and I just can't have it. I'm too young to be having these problems. I was too young in 2016 to be having suicidal thoughts. I was too young to start drinking because of these problems. I was too young to start self-harm, too, because of these problems. I'm too young to be suffering like that.
And I know that I no longer have the opportunity to be happy for now, while I'm here.
This must be another cry for help that I am exposing in vain. I've already sent emails to certain people, I've done posts like this before, I've posted explicit oneshots about my conditions, I've done threads on twitter. I've done everything I could, I've played all my cards. I am literally alone, not much else that can help me. All these things were calls for help, but there is no one to notice them.
I'm tired of being ignored.
I'm tired of not being seen by people.
I'm tired of being here like an idiot posting all these things and giving all these clues and being ignored by everyone. I'm tired of doing it all in vain. I'm tired of keep trying.
I bet this is just another waste of time.
20 notes · View notes
saffronwritings · 3 years
Text
Be There
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warnings: Parental in Hospital due to health, cursing
pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader 
A/N: I get very nervous thinking about posting my work on tumblr but I figured I'd give a whirl. Please be nice :)  Also I do not own the banner and if you want me to credit you let me know!!
Bakugou had noticed that you had been off from the moment you stepped into class this morning. Your normal cheerful demeanor had been shifted into one that was just complacent. Something about the way you forced yourself to talk to the rest of your classmates had bothered him immensely.
Although he would never admit it, he cared deeply for you. He had fallen for you little charms and even thought that you quirk was rather handy, being able to manipulate others with your hypnotic voice. There had been times where he thought you were using your powers against him, but plenty of times you had reassured the hot head that you only use it when necessary.
You had quickly found your way into the Bakusquad, as you had quickly bonded with Jirou and Mina. Not only that, but you seemed to not mind how ill-tempered Bakugou was. Even with his outbursts towards you at times, you seemed to just smile and act as if he had not hurt your feelings. He had noticed the times he had and made sure to apologize in solitude because he dared not show his soft side to the rest of his friend group. You personally enjoyed seeing these softer sides of the angry boy as you felt like he could confide in you. ‘
However, today was so much different. How could you have changed so quickly overnight and what was the cause of it? Did someone from another class say something to upset you once again? Those general studies students tended to say that your quirk was cheating and that you did not deserve your spot in class 1-A. Bakugou had time and time again scared away those sidekicks into submission. You had not said anything that was bothering you, and although the rest of the Bakusquad seemingly had not noticed, Bakugou did.
He stalked after you once class had let out and he had grabbed your wrist while in passing, dragging you into a vacant classroom. This had startled you enough to let out an embarrassed squeak. He closed the door behind him so no wondering eyes could disturb the two of you. “What’s going on Bakugou?” You asked confused, still seemingly dazed. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He bluntly stated, cutting straight to what was bothering him.
Your gaze suddenly shifted from confusion to acknowledgement. Of course, he was going to notice something was wrong. He was scarily perceptive. You waved your hand in front of you and attempted to fake laugh at his question. “Silly, Katsuki.” You teased, attempted to brush past him back out into the hallway. “Just tired from studying last night is all. We have a lot of our final tests coming up.” You lied, hand on the sliding door. He just scoffed and you could feel his eye roll even without looking at the blonde boy.
He watched you carefully as you stalked out of the classroom, avoiding the confrontation he was attempting to have. However, he was not going to force you to tell him anything you did not feel comfortable with. It was not his place to demand information from you. The last thing he needed was you pushing him as to why he wanted to know what was wrong. The thought alone almost set off tiny explosions in his hands. He wanted to squash whatever was bothering you to bring that smile of yours back onto your lovely face.
Kirishima had bothered him from time and time again about asking you out for a date. No matter how many times the explosive boy tried to correct him, Kirishima knew Bakugou was smitten for you. He kept it to himself, as much as he wanted to tell the rest of the squad. Bakugou scoffed and walked out of the classroom moments after you. He caught up with you and the rest of his classmates in the lunchroom. His apatite was gone though, watching you go about your day in a lackadaisical manner. Watching miserably from the sidelines had affected his own attitude.
“Jeez Bakugou, if you’re not hungry today, I’ll gladly take your food for you.” Kaminari perked up, staring at his uneaten lunch. “Piss off, Sparky.” Bakugou barked back immediately. “You’ve been so crabby today, so much so more than usual.” Kaminari replied, backing away from the blonde. He hated to admit it, but the stupid lightning bolt was right. Was he really going to let your bad day also affect him? Frustrated, he attempted to try and eat part of his lunch. When you gave him a concerning look, he just turned away and ate in silence.
Things really took a turn for the worse during your hero training. The two of you had been paired up together in a simulation fight. You had to retrieve a citizen from a collapsing building and fight off your other classmates. You were up against Momo and Ojiro. This normally would have been a cinch for the two of you, especially with how well you worked together. Even though your quirk relied on consciousness and influence, your combat skills were above the rest. Well, aside from Izuku and Katsuki that is. However, with your mind out of focus, you were easily overtaken by that Creation quirk of Momo’s. Aizawa had called the match and suddenly you heard multiple explosions go off.
“Bakugou, you need to chill.” Kirishima said, trying to lighten the mood up. “No! We lost because the Siren girl can’t get her head together!” He shouted, staring daggers over to you. You flinched back at his outburst. “Why can’t you just get over whatever it is you’re upset about and do your damned job as a hero! You can’t be this out of focus in the field or no agency is going to take you!” He barked more. There was silence throughout the entire class. You turned away to head towards the changing rooms when Present Mic had arrived at the simulation grounds, calling your name. The look of concern only etched itself further on your face seeing the look in Present Mic’s face. Everyone’s attention then turned from Bakugou to you. Watching as Mic whispered something to and watching your face change from upset to distraught.
Immediately you were quickly following Present Mic out of the training arena. The class erupted in questions, wondering what was going on. Aizawa quieted the class and tried to get the rest of his students back in order. “Listen, we need to finish this lesson. Unless you all want extra homework.” He threatened. The class quieted and returned to the lesson. However, something was not sitting right with Bakugou. Almost instantly he was regretting taking his anger out on you. “What do you think Y/N was taken away for?” Jirou asked quietly while watching Todoroki and Ochaco go against Hagakure and Iida. “I don’t know, it looked serious though.” Kirishima noted, with Kaminari nodding along to his statement. “I hope she’s okay.” Mina whispered. “She will be. At least I hope she will be.” Bakugou thought.
The next morning was even worse. Bakugou had barely slept a wink. He had texted you after school apologizing for exploding on you, and that he was just worried about you. You did not respond to his message. Even worse, the text message was not even opened. When he arrived in class, you were missing from your usual spot. If there was anyone who was almost as stubborn as Iida about getting to class early, it was you. “Is Y/N not here yet?” Kirishima asked from behind Bakugou. He had not even noticed he was standing and staring idly at your desk. “No.” He answered before going over and sitting down at his own desk.
The rest of the squad had arrived and found themselves gathering around Bakugou’s desk like they did every morning. Usually he hated this, but when you were around, he did not mind it as much. Your presence was clearly missing, and it was obvious that it bothered him. “Had no one heard from Y/N? I tried texting her last night, however, she didn’t answer me.” Mina had asked, looking at her phone once again. “Nothing on my end, I sent her a text as soon as we got out of school.” Jirou interjected. “Same here.” Kirishima chimed in. Bakugou stayed quiet, only getting more worried. He had tuned out their continuing conversation until Aizawa had entered the room. The Bakusquad had quickly dispersed and sat in their assigned seats.
There was a grim look on Aizawa’s face, and it had sent an unsettling feeling into Bakugou’s stomach. Once the class had quieted down, Aizawa had taken in a deep breath before addressing the classroom. “Y/N will not be attending school for the rest of the week. Yesterday her mother was admitted into the hospital and is in critical condition. She will be staying by her side in the hospital.” He stated, making the class gasp in surprise. Bakugou’s heart could have leap out of his throat. You could hear a pin drop from the class being so quiet. “We will write a condolence card for her and send it to her address by the end of the week.” He continued to speak but all Bakugou could hear was ringing in his ears. Had he heard his teacher correctly? Your mother was extremely ill. You had to have seen her health declining and had not said a word to anyone. Up until yesterday, you had played it off as if everything in your homelife was okay.
Aizawa had changed the subject back to what he was teaching yesterday. He was reviewing the material that was covered the day before. However, Bakugou could not stop the crackling in his hands. He slammed his hands on his desk and stood up. The eruptions in his hands going off, burning a spot on his desk. A few students jumped, however, most of them were used to Bakugou’s outbursts. Except, this time he was dead quiet. Everyone turned around to look at him, but before Aizawa could say a word, Bakugou was walking out of the classroom. “Bakugou! Where are you going?” Kirishima yelled after him. However, Bakugou tuned him out. His pace quickened as he traveled through the school. He did not bother to stop at his locker or change into his normal shoes. As soon as he stepped foot outside of the school gates, he broke into a sprint.
You had invited him over to your house once. Asking him if he could help you study for one of your exams. He found his feet doing all the work as he raced towards where he knew you lived. He was not sure what he was going to do once he arrived, but he knew he had to be there. Before he knew it, he noticed the street coming to an end and he knew around the corner was your house. Suddenly, he got extremely nervous, just leaving school to go comfort you. Would you even let him after yelling at you yesterday? He had to try. He slowed his pace as he approached your house.
You were sitting on your front step, weeping quietly with your head in your hands. His heart broke in half seeing you in such a state. You were just beyond the gate, but he was so hesitant to push the gate open. When he heard your soft crying turn into full on sobs, that is when he found the courage to push the gate open and was by your side in the matter of seconds. Before you could even process what was happening, he had pulled you into his embrace and held onto you tightly. “Katsuki??” You asked in surprise. “I’m sorry. I should not have yelled at you yesterday. You needed me to be there for you. So, now I am. And I want you to cry. I want you to feel safe around me. I’m never going to let you feel that way again.” He explained, holding onto you as if he was afraid to lose you too.
You started to cry harder and gripped onto him tightly. The two of you had stayed like that for a while. He just let you cry because that is what you needed. He dares not judge you for feeling the way you did right now. He was going to be there for you from now on. “Thank you.” You finally whispered once you had caught your breath from heavily crying. “Don’t thank me, dummy.” He answered back, “It’s what I should have done from the get-go. When Aizawa told the class what happened, I flung myself out of my chair to get my ass here.”.
“But why?” You asked, almost bewildered. You had pulled away from his embrace to wipe your wet eyes. You felt his calloused hand carefully caress your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen from your bloodshot eyes. “Do I have to spell it out to you?” He huffed. In that moment, you had noticed his face turn a bright red. Even though you had just lost your mother and your heart yearned for her, for just a moment you had felt it flutter. “This has to be the shittiest timing, Y/N. I don’t want to take away from your pain, in any way…” He started to say, tripping over his words. You immediately pulled him into another embrace, throwing him off guard.
“You will never take anything away from me. Thank you for being here for me. Thank you for always caring about me, Katsuki.” You whispered, making the boy even more flustered. He huffed in protest, but he knew he enjoyed the attention. The two of you separated from the embrace and Katsuki felt bold enough to lean in to kiss you, softly but a bit forcefully on the lips. This action truly shocked you for a moment. He quickly pulled back realizing what he had just done. “I shouldn’t have done that. I should go.” He said quickly, standing up from his seated position. Before he could bolt out the gate, he heard you say his name. He turned around only to find your face inches from his, making him blush immensely. You pecked him on the cheek and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” You asked. And although your eyes had been puffy and bloodshot from crying, snot was dripping down your nose, and it looked like you had not slept in days, he still found you so incredibly beautiful.
“Tch. Fine.” He grumbled, following in your lead, but not letting go of your hand.
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atiny-exol · 4 years
Text
Innocent! Straykids their Yandere s/o punishes them
Warning: this is a yandere reaction, this contains a toxic relationship, abuse, torture, blood and some dark topics if you are uncomfortable with that please don't read it.
Chan
He is the nicest and loveliest person you know
Always nice to you and everyone around him
And that's the problem
You hate it when he talks with other people
Epically girls
So it isn't a surprise that you had enough one day
Chan really was just nice to the young lady and helped her with some heavy stuff but of course you got jealous
As soon as you arrived home later, you locked the door and told him that you hate it when he is flirting with other people
He didn't really understand what you mean.. He was just nice wasn't he?
You cried infront of him and told him how horrible and terrible you felt while he flirted with this girl
How insecure you are and how much it scares you that he might leave you for someone better
It wasn't the first time that you manipulated him and it isn't the last time
Let's say that he won't talk that nicely to others anymore because he doesn't want to hurt you and just wants the best for you
So his punishment is more psychological
,,B.. Babygirl/Babyboy? W.. Why why are you crying? Did I do something wrong again? I'm sorry I'm. Really sorry." Chans wrapped his strong arm around you waist and pets you head with the other hand. ,,N.. No no..its fine c.. Chan it's fine." you cried out under fake sobs, and behind his back a smirk appeared on your face. He is so easy to manipulate.
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Minho
You kidnapped the poor guy, but at least you took your cats with him
You know how much he loves his cats
But he he gives them more attention when you. You will take them away
Lock him up and just let him out if he gives you the attention you need
You aren't physically
You just know that the cats are the only interaction he will have with something what breaths beside you
And he wouldn't stand it if you hurt his precious cats
He never breaks the limit so he isn't sure if you really hurt his cats or not
But to be honest he doesn't want to find it out
,,No Minho you don't understand that! You won't give me attention while you pet this stupid things!" Minho looked at you with big eyes and carefully put the cat down his lap and on the ground, before he looked away. ,,Y/N s.. See I.. I'm sorry.. I" ,,A sorry won't fix that Minho~" with a soft voice you continued. ,,Never do that again or I have to lock you in the basement again without your cats."
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Changbin
Changbin is a very feisty one
He doesn't want to play by your rules and he will do everything to break them
He tries to run away multiple times
And you are getting tired of it
Yes it is funny to see the climpse of happiness in his eyes then he steps outside for a second
And yes it's sadistically satisfying to see how his happiness turns into fear and anger as soon as he realizes that it was a trap
It is funny and yes you loved it
But that doesn't mean that you will let him do that over and over again
Killing for Changbin? No problem for you
You will drag some friends from him one by one in the basement let him watch how you torture them and then he can decide witch one dies first
If he doesn't give in you will break him into submission
Loud and painful screams echo through the silent and dark basement as you stabbed the knive inside the thigh of your newest victim. A satisfied and sadistic giggle left your mouth as you smudged the blood other the face of them, before you turned around to your tied up boyfriend. ,,Come on binnie which one should si kill first? Choose wisely because the other one will get more pain for the next hour."
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Hyunjin
Let me make one thing clear this one isn't that easy to break
You are his best friend for some time
You love him
You are possessive over him
He is the one who gives you the will to live and he
He is just so ignorant
One day he told you that he has a girlfriend now
And you would not only hate her bur also hyunjin
But you love him too and you want to make Jim yours
Breaking hyunjin is one goal you tried not to do but after this you aren't that nice anymore
You tied him on a chair and pulled out a knive
Your initials now over his collarbone
After that you brought his girlfriend in the room and killed her infront of him
Let's say he won't break your heart again
The black haired girl layed on the floor, infront of Hyunjins feet, shaking in fear as she saw how you stepped near to her. The inner sadist came out and your once so lovely face is twisted into a psychotic smile to her, before you stepped on her hand, letting her scream another time in pain. ,,Hyunjin is mind just mine and you-" you squatted infront of her and with a rough pull on her hair you brought her face near yours. ,,You will never change that."
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Jisung
Best boy
He is a whole sunshine does everything to make you happy and would never betray you
At least you thought that
One time you came home and Jisung wasn't around
His clothes are gone and you couldn't track his mobile phone anymore
You cried a lot but then you got angry
He did the only thing you asked him not to do
He left you
And he will regret it
It wasn't impossible to find him
And once you though him
He tried to tell people that you are going to hurt whim that you are sick
But you made the lie that he is mentally not stable and that he is confused
No one believed him
And now you have him back again
His punishment is easy
He won't go out anymore, you take the affection you gave him away and you treat him like a doll
Nothing and I mean nothing is done by himself anymore
If you don't need him right now he is tied to the bed, gagged and unable to do anything
You love him and you don't want to lose him ever again
,,My precious little doll." you said while you are deep down in your own happy mindset, where everything is good and Jisung is living a happy life with you together. The reality is far away from that. Jisung is laying on the bed, eyes closed, mouth filled with a gag and a few tears running down his cheek while he wished that he never made the mistake to try to leave you.
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Felix
He was your best friend for such a long time
And you loved him since your childhood
As you confessed to him and he returned the feeling you were so happy
But Felix soon realized that the relationship isn't going like he wanted it to be
You are jealous very easily no one can come near him without you throwing a tantrum
He can't talk to anyone anymore because you would get angry at him
But you can't understand why he doesn't like it
It just showy that you love him so much and that you won't let someone steal him away
But as he tries to break up with you
You lost everything
Of course you would let him go at first
But after this night no one and I mean no one saw him again
Because he is sitting in the house you made just for you and him
He can't leave it
And you still need to remind him that he can never break up with you again
That's why you should show him how much he hurted you with that
,,Come on lixie. It isn't that worse."you said while you rolled your eyes and layed the teaser on the table beside you. ,,You didn't understand yet how much it hurt me when you tried to break up with me. You don't know it yet." Another deep sigh left your mouth and you looked at your other tools laying on the table, placing the hammer inside your hand, and as soon as your fingers wrapped around the cruel tool you can see the fear in his eyes. ,,That's it. That's what I want to see." Incomprehensible words left his gagged mouth and another giggle is heard from you. ,,Don't worry soon you understand the pain I felt.
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Seungmin
You stalked him for so long and he didn't even know that you existed
You took photos of him at every activity he did
A whole room just with photos from him
Let's say some of them aren't that innocent
Punishing Seungmin?
Yes because one day you decided to take him
You want him to fall in love with you
So you texted him
But he was so rude towards you
Lling you that he doesn't know who you are and that you are probably a psycho
So you blackmailed him with some photos
And if he didn't believe you and block you
The photos are on all social media platforms till he apologizes
Disbelieving what he just saw, eungmin shakes his head and thinks that all of this is just a big bad nightmare, but as he opened Instagram again and saw the same pictures over and over again, tears collected in his eyes and he quickly unblocked the person who threatened him yesterday.
,,I'm sorry please I won't do it again. Please... D.. Dont post pictures of me like that again. "
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Jeongin
He is the easiest to manipulate
Soon in your relationship you arrange it that he has no one beside you
All his friends disappeared one by one and no one wants to talk to him anymore
If he doesn't behave well you will threat him that you will leave him
That no one will ever love him the same way you love him
That everyone will hurt him
And Jeongin believes you. Especially if you are older he will believe you
Everything you say is true in his mind and he doesn't think twice about it
You have him wrapped around your little finger and if he still acts like a brat you will treat him like a child
Early bedtime, no sweet, not going outside and no affection
So.. Let's say he won't do it that often
,,What did I say Jeongin baby? " ,,N.. No sweets after 9pm N.. Noona/H.. Hyung."the younger said while his head hand low and his look shows that he is sorry that he disappointed you. ,,And what did you do Baby?" ,,I a.. Ate sweets after 9pm without asking." ,,That's right. Now go to the separate room. You sleep alone today." His eyes widden in shock and he looked at you with teary eyes. ,,N.. Noona/Hyung p. Please n." ,,I won't repeat that Jeongin. Go."
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250 notes · View notes
songtoyou · 3 years
Text
Chapter 12: Switch - Part One
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Tolerate It
Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character
Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).
Word Count: 3,791
Warnings: Swearing
Story Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.
Chapter Summary: Easter has arrived. Tommy is spending it with his family, while Rose is forced to spend time with her ex. We learn that Tommy does not always want to be in control. 
A/N: This chapter will have two parts.
I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.
Tag list: @owenniasstars​
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There was a part of Tommy that wished he did not have to be in control all of the time. It was understandable that he be the one in charge of his business as he had no other person to rely on to step up to the plate. Michael was still too young. Also, Tommy had been developing doubts and distrust towards his cousin. It didn’t help that Michael would schedule secret meetings with potential business partners and act as if he was doing it to help Tommy and the company. Tommy used to rely on and confide in his Aunt Polly. Yet, she began to distance herself more and more from the company, especially since getting remarried to Aberama Gold, a fellow business associate to Tommy. John and Arthur had their business deals to worry about, and Ada spent most of her time in the States.
He wished Grace was still alive. She was Tommy’s number one supporter. He shared almost everything with Grace (the legal side) and truly valued her advice and opinions. When Tommy was with Grace, he was able just to be himself. He was allowed to be calm and not have to overwork his mind. He didn’t have to be in control.
It was only with Grace that Tommy allowed another person to have total control over him in the bedroom. Both he and Grace shared characteristics of a dominant and submissive. They often switched roles, with Tommy as the dominant and Grace as the submissive, and vice versa. He loved it when Grace used to dominate him. No one would have suspected the sweet-natured blonde woman had an alpha personality behind closed doors, who was and controlling and overtly sexual.
With Grace gone, Tommy never allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of anyone. Lizzie tried to get Tommy to open that side of him up, but he denied her. He couldn’t do it. A part of Tommy felt as if it would be a betrayal to Grace. Both Ada and Polly constantly told Tommy that it was okay for him to move on from Grace.
“She gave you, on her deathbed, the permission to move on, Thomas. Respect your deceased wife’s wishes,” Aunt Polly would tell him. 
“Find someone to have a family with, Tommy. Charlie deserves to have a mother figure in his life and possible siblings if it were to happen. Let yourself be happy,” were Ada’s words of encouragement. 
No doubt Tommy would hear those exact words at his sister’s house this Sunday afternoon to celebrate Easter with the entire Shelby clan. Boy, it was going to be a long day. Charlie ended up spending the night at Ada’s with his cousins. Tommy was glad for that as indeed his sister would provide his son with an Easter basket. Tommy was not one for decorative or holiday pleasantries. That was all Grace. When Grace passed, Ada, Polly, or Esme would be the ones to step in and make sure Charlie celebrated his birthday with a party or invite him over for holiday festivities. Guilt would riddle Tommy at that notion that he could not provide his only child with a happy environment. Yes, Tommy loved Charlie dearly. However, Tommy could not deny that he lacked in other emotional departments. He was not one for sentiments or terms of endearment.
Another subject Tommy was not keen to have brought up was his “relationship” with Rose Turner. Unfortunately, he knew better than to expect his family members to rile him up about her and ask questions. None of them knew how Tommy met Rose. It was the same with Lizzie. While both Arthur and John were not faithful to their wives, neither were allowed to be members of Excelsior Club. He had mentioned Arthur and John to Tatiana to inquire if they could become members. Tatiana stated that they were both a liability. “Your brothers are too reckless and don’t fit the standards of our usual clientele. They are, how do I put this nicely? They are too ‘rough around the edges,’ so to speak,” Tatiana said dismissively when Tommy first started going to the Club.
It didn’t matter to Tommy either way; his brothers still managed to do fine all on their own. Besides, Arthur and John were not the faces of Shelby Company Limited; Tommy was and had an image to protect. If Tommy went down in disgrace, it would be for his business dealings, not that he kept himself in the company of whores.
However, Tommy could not help his growing feelings for Rose. There was an energy about her that was attractive to him that he could not quite understand why. Tommy was not sure if it was because Rose was able to adhere to his wicked desires. It amazed Tommy how she was keen on submitting and doing almost anything to please him. During scenes, Rose responded to Tommy as if he was the only man she needed, the only man she desired. And it felt genuine, not put on. There would be moments during aftercare where Rose would look at Tommy with such admiration and respect, that at first, it made him feel uneasy. But after a while, he came come to desire that look. That Tommy would do whatever it took to make sure Rose always looked at him in such away. Tommy found that he craved Rose’s respect, which caught him off guard. 
Tommy soon realized that he also respected Rose and how she would do anything for her son. He admired that notion about her. She willingly entered into a line of work that could be demanding, demeaning, and possibly dangerous to provide for her child was not something that Tommy took lightly or was flippant about it. He would never refer to Rose as a “hooker with a heart of gold.” No, she was much more than a trope. Tommy knew Rose did not need a knight and shining armor to save her. 
Lizzie wanted Tommy to save her. At the time, Tommy was in no position to be someone’s hero. He was too bruised, too shattered, too broken. 
Now, here Tommy was at his sister’s home celebrating Easter. He sat back and watched everyone. The laughter, the smiles, Tommy felt like he didn’t belong. Tommy felt like he couldn’t breathe, so he stepped out back to smoke a cigarette since Ada did not allow smoking in her home.
The inhale of nicotine helped soothe Tommy’s anxiety and calm his nerves. Often, he wished he was back on opium. It was his way of coping after coming home from Afghanistan. He was only able to get clean because of Grace and her support. He never touched the stuff after getting clean, but there were still cravings. The feelings that came with the high brought such bliss. The satisfaction that nothing could harm you. Those weren’t going to go away magically overnight. 
Tommy’s solitude was interrupted when his son, nephews, and nieces ran outside with their baskets to search for eggs. He looked at his watch and sighed. He was not sure how much longer he could stand this. 
As the children flittered around the yard, Tommy took out his phone. He opened the message from one of the Blinders he had assigned to watch over Rose that day. The text message Tommy received earlier unsettled him. It was a picture of Rose exiting her house with Louis and a man. The three got in a car and drove off. At first sight of the image, Tommy felt enraged. He immediately wanted to know who this man was and why he was with Rose. Tommy was livid. Fortunately, he calmed himself down when Rose sent him a text an hour later.
Rose: I know you have your guys watching over Louis and me. While I do appreciate that, it is a little much. The man I am with is Louis’s father, Nick. We are going out for an Easter brunch. Nothing for you to worry about, and Happy Easter. 
Tommy didn’t respond, but he was grateful that Rose cleared things up. He knew his reaction to the picture was ridiculous. The slight pang of jealously surprised Tommy. He didn’t quite know where it came from; it was the same feeling when Rose told him that Changretta contacted her. He was still unsure about what to do with Changretta. First, it was only business that Changretta was causing Tommy grief; now, the man was gearing up to steal his girl. Tommy realized that he must have been too lenient when dealing with the Changrettas now overstepping their boundaries. Tommy and the Peaky Blinders would have to put them in their place for good. 
Tommy would make sure that Rose was not a casualty if a war broke out. He was not going to lose her or the war.
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“Mum! Come on!” Louis yelled. He was dressed and ready to go, but his mum was taking forever. “What is taking so long?”
“In a minute!” Rose shouted back. She was ready but was busy doing making an Easter basket for Louis. Rose placed the items strategically in the basket. She grabbed the basket and walked down the stairs. “Happy Easter, my little man.”
Rose handed the basket to Louis, who had a look of confusion and annoyance on his face. “What the Hell, Mum? Is this what you have been doing for the last thirty minutes?”
“Yes,” Rose said. “Don’t you like it?”
Louis sighed and placed the basket on the table. “I’m too old for an Easter basket,” he moaned but still looked through the basket to see what he got. “Holy shit! A new iPhone! AirPods!”
“Still want the basket?” Rose questioned sarcastically. “I mean, I’ll take it back if you don’t want it.”
“No, I want it. Mum, thank you,” Louis beamed with happiness and hugged Rose. 
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. You’re a good kid. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mum.”
Their tender moment was cut short when the doorbell rang. “Who the bloody Hell could that be?” Rose asked, confused.
“It is probably Dad. I told him it would be easier to pick us up,” Louis explained and went to open the door. “Dad! So good to see you.” 
Rose stood back, arms crossed, as Louis hugged his father. It was a sight that had Rose feel a pang in her chest. It reminded her that the three of them could have been a family, a typical family. That is what Louis deserved. Nick looked over at Rose and smiled at her. It was a warm and genuine smile. Rose felt like she was sixteen all over again.
“Rosie, you look…beautiful as always,” Nick complimented and went in for a hug but stopped himself. “We can hug, right?’
Rose scoffed, “Of course we can hug, weirdo.” The former lovers embraced, and Rose felt a familiarity, the feeling of being safe and uncertain. She pulled away. “Well, we better get going. Louis, where did you decide we go to eat?”
“Bella Roma. Can we stop by an Apple store after we’re done eating? I want to be able to switch over from my old iPhone to the new one. Mum, got me a new iPhone.” Louis held up his phone to his dad.
“Nice,” Nick admired. 
“We’ll see. Come, let’s get going,” Rose ordered and ushered everyone out of the house. Locking up, Rose turned around to see Louis and Nick walked towards a car. “Wow. Is this your car, Nick?”
“Don’t act so shocked. It is a used car, but yes, it is mine,” he told Rose. “It is a 2017 Hyundai Elantra. Got a pretty good price for it too.”
“Very nice,” Rose approved as she got inside, with Louis settling himself comfortably in the back seat. 
“Dad has a full-time job now. Isn’t that right, Dad,” Louis spoke up eagerly.
Nick started the car and drove away from the house. It would not be too long before they arrived at the restaurant. “Where do you work?” Rose asked, trying to hide the tone of suspicion in her voice. 
“My father took pity on me. I work at his insurance company. It took a while for him to trust me again. But Mum told Dad to give me a chance, especially when I got out of….”
“Prison,” Rose interrupted, and she noticed Nick straighten up in his seat. “That is good to hear. I’m glad your relationship with your parents is better. Better than mine, that is for sure,” she added under her breath. 
It was not long until Nick parked near Bella Roma. Once they entered the restaurant, the three were seated quickly. Rose sat on one side, while Nick and Louis sat together on the other side. Rose sat back and watched the interaction between father and son. It was sweet to watch Louis interact with his father. As Rose looked between the two, she was reminded how much they both looked so very much alike. It was eerie. Dark brown hair and brown eyes were two of the features they shared, along with a dimple on their chin. 
Soon, their waitress stopped by to get drink orders. “I’ll just have water, thank you,” said Rose. Truthfully, she would have liked a glass of wine to help take the edge off. However, Rose didn’t want anything to hinder her guard up around Nick.
They ended up ordering pizza to share and a plate of arancini as a starter. Louis was the one to dominate the conversation. He was desperately trying to get his parents to interact more. Louis kept praising his dad’s accomplishments to get his mum’s attention. “Mum, did you know dad volunteers to help underprivileged kids. It’s like, what did you refer to it as, a nice version of scared straight?”
Nick chuckled, “Something like that. I figured I could do something good and help guide kids to not make the same mistakes as me.”
Rose bit her tongue. For Louis’s sake, she would be nice. However, she wanted to bite back and ask Nick what he considers mistakes he has made throughout his life. Rose hoped he didn’t view Louis as some mistake. That would set her off. Rose picked at her pizza; she found herself not hungry all of a sudden. Nick and Louis continued to talk amongst themselves about mundane topics such as school, sports, music, etc.
At that moment, Rose’s thoughts drifted to Tommy. She wondered what he was doing, and kind of wished he was with her. That thought caught Rose off guard. She pulled out her phone and sent him a quick text. She wanted to let him know that she was out with Louis and Nick, along with wishing him a happy Easter. There were times where Rose wished she didn’t have to leave Tommy after their rendezvous in the hotel that Friday. She always felt safe with Tommy. There was a sense of security and a feeling of being protected. 
Rose found herself that the more she hung around Tommy, the more she began to trust him, and the more Rose began to like Tommy, which scared her. She was not supposed to develop feelings for him. He was a client, after all. He paid for her services. She willingly allowed him to do unspeakable sexual acts to her. Rose was willing to let Tommy do things she would never allow any other man to do to her. She wondered what made Tommy different compared to someone like Luca or Alfie. Probably because, in a weird sense, Tommy treated Rose like a human being and not some toy. Yes, she knew Tommy tended to be possessive, but he still respected Rose’s boundaries. Rose trusted Tommy not ever to cross them. 
“Rosie, are you still here?” Nick asked. He waved his hand in front of Rose’s face to get her attention.
“What?” Rose shook her head to clear her mind. “Sorry, what’s going on?”
“Dad asked you about the guy you are currently seeing,” Louis answered. He was frustrated that his dad brought up Tommy. 
“Oh yeah, what about Tommy?” 
“Just wondered how long you have been seeing this guy? How did you two meeting by the way?” Nick questioned. “I’ll be frank; I was stunned to find out that the mother of my child is dating the one and only Tommy Shelby. Isn’t he an OBE?”
Rose shrugged her shoulders at the question, “I guess he is an OBE. I don’t know; he has yet to show me his medal or whatever it is they get. You know, Tommy is just a guy I met, and we hit it off. Nothing too outrageous.”
“Is it serious?” Again, another question from Nick.
Louis sighed in annoyance, and Rose quickly picked up on her son’s discomfort on the subject of Tommy. “Let’s see if they have dessert,” Rose changed the subject and tried to wave over their waitress.
“Have you met him, Louis?” asked Nick turning towards his son.
Rolling her eyes, Rose interceded, “No, he has not met Tommy.”
“And I don’t want to,” Louis mumbled under his breath.
“Hey, here is an idea, how we don’t talk about Tommy, okay,” ordered Rose, and both guys agreed.
After sharing a tiramisu, Rose had enough and was ready to get back home. Nick offered to pay, and Rose didn’t fight him on it. She figured it was his way of showing he had his own money and could provide a meal for them. With their leftovers boxed up, Rose led the way back to Nick’s car. 
“Louis, did you still want to go to the Apple store?” Rose asked him. 
“Can we? I thought you wanted to get back home.”
“I do, but we can get the leftovers in the fridge, and I can take you,” replied Rose. Truthfully, she did not want to go. She had enough excitement for one day.
Suddenly, Nick piped in, “I can take him if you feel like staying home.”
Rose turned around to look at Louis, “Is that okay with you?”
“That’s fine,” answered Louis, happily. He was excited to get to spend some alone time with his dad.
Nick parked in front of the house. Rose and Louis and got out of the car. He handed the pizza boxes to Rose and got in the front seat. “I’ll see you late, sweetie. By Nick. Take care.”
“Bye, Rosie. Talk to you later.”
Rose waved them off and walked towards the house. She breathed a sigh of relief upon entry. She went upstairs to undress and put on a pair of comfortable sweats and sweater. All Rose wanted to do was relax. 
Looking at the clock, it was only 3:30 PM. Lunch with Nick felt like it went on longer. As Rose was about to settle herself on the couch to watch television, the doorbell rang. “Now, who the Hell is that?” 
“Fucking ‘ell, people. It’s Easter Sunday, for God’s sake.” She walked to the front door and opened it to find none other than Tommy Shelby. 
“Tommy, what are you doing here?” inquired Rose, totally not expecting it to be him. 
Clearing his throat, Tommy shuffled on his feet. He looked down, then up at Rose. “I…I needed to get out and away. It was all too much.” 
Rose was confused by what Tommy was telling her. She motioned for Tommy to come inside, and he obliged. “What do you mean it was all too much? Are you okay?”
Guiding Tommy to the couch, Rose sat down next to him. She was concerned since she had never seen Tommy like this before. It was as if he was lost.
Tommy sighed, “I was at my sister’s house. Everyone was there, my brothers, their wives and kids, Aunt Polly and her husband, his kids. Everyone had someone but me. I was alone. Charlie was there, of course, but it if feels like the bond we once had is dwindling. He doesn’t need me. I watched him play with his cousins and interact with his aunts and uncles and realized that my son is better off without me.”
Rose was shocked at Tommy’s words. She scooted closer to him and placed a supported hand on his knee. “Tommy, no. That is not true. Of course, your son needs you. You are his father. You’re his family.”
“He has other family members who can give him the love and attention he deserves. Maybe I should have listened to Grace’s parents and had Charlie live with them.”
“No. Tommy, listen to me,” Rose began and made Tommy look at her. “Charlie is your son. You love him. You told me that you love him. He is a part of you and Grace. If you give Charlie up, you will regret it. Then you truly will lose him.”
“It would be better for him….”
“No, it would not. It would only scar that child for the rest of his life. He will feel that you abandoned him,” Rose stated firmly. “You’re not thinking clearly. It’s a holiday. We all get weird when we are forced to hang around family members. Just stay here for a while and relax.”
Rose found that her hand moved from Tommy’s knee to his hand sitting back on the couch. He was holding on tight as if he was afraid Rose would disappear. She used her other hand to cover his. Rose wanted Tommy to know that she was not going anywhere. Taking in Tommy’s appearance, he was dressed in blue jeans, a black sweater, and black boots. It was the most casual look Rose had ever seen Tommy. She was always used to seeing him in suits. It was a nice change. However, the look on his face was one of sadness and defeat. 
“Tell me what you need, Tommy?” Rose asked. She pulled Tommy closer to her and wrapped an arm around him. “Tell me how I can make it better,” she crooned in his ear and ran her fingers through his hair. 
What did Tommy want? He was unsure. A part of Tommy didn’t want to feel always in control. That he could let go and be in the moment. That’s what he wanted; he wanted to be in the moment with Rose. Just the two of them, sitting together. “I just want to sit here, with you, Rose. That’s all I want right now. I don’t want to think about anything.”
Kissing the top of Tommy’s head, Rose leaned her head on his. “Okay, we can do that, Tommy. I’m here. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”
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fridayfirefly · 4 years
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Quarantine Chapter One: Beginning
Written for the Maribat April Angst Apocalypse
Quarantine Masterlist | AO3
A/N: The craziest part of this fic is that I actually started writing it before coronavirus became the big crisis of 2020. My fic doesn't have anything to do with coronavirus, despite its name. However, due to the fact that I’ve been in quarantine for over half of March (and haven’t left my house for twenty days) I’ve taken some inspiration from real life events.
Quarantine is my submission for the Maribat April Angst Apocalypse (@april-angst-apocalypse) (though most of the angst is concentrated in the middle chapters, and it does have a happy ending). It's completely written, with 20 chapters, totaling 26,000 words. I already have a posting schedule set up and everything, so you can expect regular updates from me for once.
This fic occurs pre-episodes Heart Hunter and Miracle Queen, so Chloé still has redemption-arc potential and the identities of Rena Rouge, Carapace, Viperion, and Ryuko haven't been revealed to Hawkmoth.
If you want to be added to the Quarantine taglist, send me an ask, a message, or just comment on this post. 
[Sunday October 18]
The Quarantine started at midnight on the third Sunday in October. There wasn’t any warning, no emergency broadcasts or press conferences to get the word out. One moment Paris functioned as just another city in France. A moment later, a force field surrounded Paris, stopping all movement in and out of the city. There was chaos on the border for hours, as people desperately tried to get in and out of Paris. But it was no use - the force field was impenetrable. Before the sun rose that day, the force field had already gotten its name: The Wall.
Marinette woke up that morning with a phone full of news alerts. She learned about The Wall in bits and pieces. All across the news were accounts of the chaos at the border, but not the full story as to how it got there or how long it would be staying. Just like every other resident of Paris, Marinette didn’t yet have the full story. Unlike her fellow Parisians, however, Marinette needed the full story. Marinette was Ladybug, defender of Paris. The Wall threatened her city, and she couldn't let that be.
At noon, the Justice League sent out an announcement to the people of Paris. Their city had been put under quarantine in order to prevent Hawkmoth's destruction from spreading. Mayor Bourgeoise, their democratically elected mayor, was being replaced by a Council chosen by the Justice League. Free will and civil liberties were being put on hold so that the Justice League could decide the fate of Paris.
There was an immediate outcry, but protest was futile against the Justice League. They had too much power, too much authority for any single citizen to change their minds. There had always been speculation over the potential for Justice League intervention in Paris - especially since Hawkmoth's akumas had been growing in strength over the past few years. However, it had always been assumed that the Justice League would be helping alongside Ladybug and Chat Noir. Instead, the Justice League ignored Paris's superheroes entirely.
Ladybug and Chat Noir attempted to make contact with the Justice League. They approached the Paris Council, demanding a say in the fate of Paris. Finally, that afternoon, they were brought in front of the Paris Council to plead their case.
"Chat Noir and I have worked hard to protect Paris from Hawkmoth for almost four years. While the situation is not perfect, Paris is still thriving, despite everything working against it." Cameras flashed as reporters took photos and videos of Ladybug's speech. Marinette simply kept her head high. After three years as Ladybug, she was used to having her picture taken. "What the Justice League has done to Paris is wrong. We demand that you take down The Wall."
"Ladybug. Chat Noir." A massive television screen turned on, revealing the face of Batman, head of the Justice League. "While the Justice League appreciates your input into the situation, your arguments do not change the reality of Paris's situation. The last akuma, Exterminator, caused too much damage for the Justice League to ignore. Hawkmoth is a dangerous supervillain, and the two of you have been powerless to stop his attacks. The Paris Quarantine will not be broken until Hawkmoth is neutralized and behind bars."
"This is an injustice," protested Ladybug. "The people of Paris deserve their freedom."
"The decision has already been made. The Justice League expects both of you to be respectful of the wishes of the Council. You may continue your futile fight against Hawkmoth's akumas, but know that the Justice League will be working tirelessly to take down the real threat - Hawkmoth himself. Your assistance is no longer needed."
The screen turned off. Ladybug stood there in shocked silence, waiting for it to turn back on. She didn't expect the fight to be easy, but she thought that she would at least be able to negotiate with the Justice League. She didn't expect her arguments to be shut down entirely.
"Ladybug, can we ask you a few questions?" a reporter called out from the back of the room.
"We won't be taking questions today," replied Chat Noir. He gently took Ladybug by the elbow and started to guide her out of the room. "Just know that no matter what, Ladybug and I will always be fighting for Paris's best interest."
Ladybug joined Chat on a half-hearted patrol. They made their way through the city in silence, both trying to wrap their heads around the gravity of the situation. This was an opponent they couldn't fight with Lucky Charm and Cataclysm. Ladybug wasn't knowledgeable in the intricacies of politics; she didn't know what petitions or protests would be necessary to get through to the Justice League.
Marinette returned home that night, feeling nothing but anger. She paced around her room, clenching and unclenching her fists. There was a storm raging inside her head. The Justice League was holding her city hostage, and there was nothing Ladybug could do about. Marinette knew that the Quarantine was unjust. How could Batman do that to her city?
"Marinette, calm down." Tikki rested one hand on Marinette's shoulder. "You have to stay positive. Too much anger could attract an akuma."
"Sorry, Tikki." Marinette sighed. She stopped pacing and sat down in front of her desk. A half-finished dress sat in front of her, waiting to be finished, but Marinette didn't have the motivation to pick it up again. She considered texting Damian for support, but Marinette was so exhausted that she didn't think she could make it through a whole conversation. "I think I'll go to bed early tonight. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a better day."
"Goodnight, Marinette."
Marinette got ready for bed in a daze, feeling weary. She could already anticipate the nightmares that would follow her into sleep. It never mattered how much sleep she got - Marinette always woke up feeling like a failure, feeling like her world was ending. There was only one way for her life to get better, and that was for Paris to be free from Hawkmoth. Unfortunately, there was no solution in sight. Marinette didn't sleep well that night, but it was no surprise to her.
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edwinmuch · 4 years
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overachiever ✧ {zion}
summary: in which straight A student riley takes a break from her procrastinating to help pretty boy zion with more than just his homework
author’s note: @softhottie‘s submission for @temperaryheart‘s 700 follower challenge! literally posting on the last day but better late than never, right? (haven’t written for leisure in a while so fair warning)
prompt: prettymuch lyric (bolded)
warnings: mention of drugs, smut (oral, daddy kink, overstimulation, edging)
word count: 3.5k
No on-campus college experience is complete without the following things: sleepless coffee-driven nights, at least one blackout drunk party experience, and a casual hookup or two. Third year Sociology major Zion could definitely say he’s checked off all of the above (several times, he might add). He was especially well-versed in the collegiate sport of hooking up. In fact, he would probably be considered something of an MVP. He’s had his fair share of players in his game. But like with any sport, it takes strategy. There was a secret artform to finding the most opportune times for intimacy when in college. Shared rooms and thin walls don’t exactly allow for privacy, especially when the room in question is shared with a nosy Italian business major named Nick.
This is why Zion decided to make every second count when he discovered his best friend and roommate Nick would be out of their dorm room for a few hours. According to Nick, his abnormal psychology midterm was “going to be the death of him.” It was his last exam before finals week, and he knew he couldn’t afford to fail so he announced that he would be spending that entire Thursday evening in the library studying for it. Zion tried to hide his excitement at his friend’s departure.
“Damn bro, that sucks. Happy studying though,” he managed to utter on Nick’s way out, feigning concern.
When the door finally shut, it took him all of 30 seconds to dial up his favorite girl as of late: Riley Williams, this fiery Women’s and Gender Studies major who resided in his building on the floor above his. They had met in his 10AM sociology class about two and a half months ago. She was hard not to notice when her hand shot up for almost every question, portraying herself as someone who obviously reads over the required text after class. But unlike others, Zion actually paid more attention to her cute tendency to absentmindedly let her pen linger between her glossy lips when she found herself concentrating deeply and her seemingly never-ending collection of flattering outfits. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice the way her curves looked in one of her cropped cardigan and plaid mini skirt ensembles or the hypnotizing glint of her signature “B-A-B-Y” silver link necklace that adorned her collarbones so well. Despite her engagement in class and endearing mannerisms, she still came off as standoffish, working alone during paired in-class assignments and rolling her eyes at less than intelligent answers from other students in response to the professor’s questions. But, after the fourth lecture of her sitting in her unassigned assigned seat next to his, he decided to take a chance and strike up a conversation, relieved to be met with her dimpled, wide tooth smile; the rest was history.
He doesn’t really know how their current arrangement really came to be. It started off as occasional study sessions in Zion’s room since she obviously knew her material. Then, it had quickly become invitations to binge-watch Bojack Horseman, a show Riley prided herself on introducing to him, or to share a blunt with him and Nick at the end of a particularly stressful school week. But eventually, a few lines had blurred when an innocent smoke sesh (sans Nick) had a salacious end involving her on all fours and her clothes long discarded on his bedroom floor. With this new dynamic between them, he’s made a habit of calling or texting her when late night thoughts of her became too enticing to resist. He hadn’t been hitting her line lately though, the stress of studying for exams and completing assignments keeping them apart. But with midterm season coming to a close and Nick finally being out of his hair, the eager boy was aching to finally invite his favorite girl over once again.
“Hey Z. What’s up?” Riley answered on the second ring, the mellifluous sound of her voice already getting him worked up.
“Hey beautiful. So, Nick is out of the room for tonight,” Zion boasted, the smirk on his face apparent even through the phone.
She waited for him to continue, thinking there was more, but he never did.
“…Okay, and? What’s that gotta do with me? Why should I drop everything to help you get a nut? I’m in the middle of writing a paper, you know,” she replied as she flicked through Netflix titles. He didn’t need to know that her “paper writing” actually equated to television streaming. Her point still stands.
“Babyyy come on, stop playin’,” he whined, “You know, I’m never selfish. Besides, the post-nut clarity of an orgasm or two will help you focus on your paper. Just gimme an hour, please?”
“Ugh I don’t know.” Although the specificities of their current relationship (or situationship, rather) had never been fully discussed, Riley must admit his sweet delivery of “baby” really made her insides scramble. At this point, she was ready to be laid up in Zion’s bed (preferably under him), especially since she wasn’t actually doing anything productive anyway, but she was also ready to hear him beg for it.
“Please baby, it’s been weeks since I’ve had you to myself. I’ll make it worth your while. Nick’s probably gonna be gone most of the night too so when you show up, m’gonna put this time to use,” the insatiable boy persuaded, the seductive rasp of his voice prominent in his last few words.
“Welllll, when you put it like that,” she began, smiling to herself as she was almost able to hear Zion’s excitement through the phone, “I’ll be there in 20.”
~~~
Riley stepped off the elevator and trodded down the RA-decorated hallway in her pink fuzzy slides to Zion’s dorm room door where she placed a soft knock. She barely had time to collect herself before the door swung open revealing a shirtless Zion leaning against the doorframe, his platinum-dyed dreads braided back into two cornrows and his dark gray cotton sweatpants hanging low enough to reveal almost the entirety of his happy trail. He wasted no time pulling her into the room. She couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face at her observation of the atmosphere Zion had created for her. His Himalayan salt lamp lit the room up in a sensuous coral hue while Next Town Down’s Lovers Theme (Interlude) played in the background.
“Next Town Down, huh?” she teased with a quirk of her lips, knowing she put him on to the musical group.
Zion smiled down at her with a set of dimples to match her own. “Yeah I know you like them. Thought it might help put you in the mood,” he shrugged smugly with his devilish smile still present on his face.
“Oh please! I know you bump them when I’m not around,” she giggled, poking him in his chest as she made her point.
“Yeah whatever,” he chuckled, his hands falling to her hips. He slowly backed them up towards his plush loveseat in the corner of the room. Once the back of his calves touched the suede material of the couch, he plopped onto the cushion. Riley followed suit, climbing onto his lap with her knees digging into the cushion on either side of him and her freshly manicured hands finding their way wrapped behind his head.
Zion made sure the dainty girl was comfortable in his lap before his large hands snaked up her luscious thighs, rubbing her up and down before finding their place on her derrière with a squeeze.
“Mmm I missed you baby.”
“Oh really? How much?” she whispered in his ear, sending chills up his spine.
“Don’t worry, imma show you.” And with that, he started his determined campaign on her neck, kissing up the area of exposed flesh even going as far as to flick his tongue out as he reached her jawline. She pulled away for a moment to slip her cropped sweatshirt over her head, fluffing out the resultant curls of her day old twist out once it passed over her head. She was left with nothing covering her upper half as she had made the deliberate decision not to wear bra to come over.
She couldn’t contain the soft moans and content sighs that escaped her lips. As he sponged wet kisses to the sensitive spot under her earlobe and his nimble fingers worked her hardening nipples, she instinctively ground her hips into his for some added friction between them.
“Need these off you too ma,” Zion whispered, snapping the waistband of her sweat shorts. And with no hesitation she complied, getting up briefly to slide them down her supple legs. She silently thanked herself for her lingerie selection; the pink and navy blue lace of her panties graciously highlighted the warm bronze undertones of her golden brown skin as well as the generous curve of her ass.
She sunk back down onto his lap, hands carefully placed on his shoulders as she returned to grinding against Zion’s ever hardening member with a little more fervor. Before the boy could utter another word, Riley pressed her lips against his in a feverish kiss.
Zion reciprocated with the same amount of enthusiasm, accepting every sloppy collision of their tongues and sensuous bite of his bottom lip with a gratified squeeze of her thigh with one hand and a rub of her lower back with the other. She quickly began her descent down his neck. Nipping, licking, sucking from his jawline to his collarbone.
A lazy smile crept upon Zion’s face as a chuckle passed his lips. “For someone who ain’t even wanna come over here, you sure are eager, huh?”
“Shut up,” she smiled against his skin, “Listen, you promised me ‘an orgasm or two’ and I intend on getting it.”
“And I’m a man of my word baby girl.” And with that challenge, Zion hooked his strong hands under Riley’s thick thighs and hoisted her from the couch, allowing her to lock her legs around his torso. Without pulling their lips away from each other, Zion walked them to his extra large twin sized bed.
He lowered her onto the bed so that her legs dangled off the end. He slinked between her legs before dropping to his knees in front of her. Riley rose off the bed slightly to lean back on her elbows; she watched as he ran his soft hands up her awaiting thighs, never losing eye contact as he did so. His nimble fingers stopped at the elastic waistband of her panties. He smirked as he mentally took note of the ever-growing wet spot in its crotch area before deftly slipping the cloth barrier down her legs and onto the carpeted floor.
“Mmm so wet for me baby,” he wasted no time hooking her legs onto his shoulders.
“Just for you,” she breathed out as a shuddered moan while Zion left lingering kisses up her inner thigh until he reached her throbbing center. He hovered there for a bit, blowing lightly against her folds. She hissed at the sudden cold air hitting her soaking cunt.
“God Zion, do something,” she whined, absentmindedly pushing his head further toward the area she needed him most.
Her wish was his command as he kissed and sucked on her folds before dipping his tongue in between them to lick a stripe at her opening. He took this time to admire her and take note of how cute she looked laying there with her bottom lip drawn between her teeth. That’s when his eager tongue found her sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking figure eights into it before sucking.
“Ahh feels so good,” Riley moaned in a whisper, grabbing at his blond locs as he lapped at her bud. Her hips began instinctively lifting slightly off the mattress as she was nearing her peak. Zion’s large hands took hold of them to anchor her and continue his gluttonous feast.
It wasn’t long before she was met with the all too familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach as she gushed into Zion’s awaiting mouth. Her eyes screwed shut and her mouth fell open allowing a loud stream of obscenities to flow from it.
Once her thighs stopped trembling, Zion released their hold from around his neck and rose from his place on his knees. Riley backed up toward the headboard so her entire body could spread across the bed and she could watch Zion’s every move. In two swift motions, Zion’s sweats were removed from his body to reveal that he was wearing nothing else underneath. He crawled on top of her and placed a wet, needy kiss to her lips. He licked into her mouth sloppily, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue.  
“What next baby?” he uttered breathily between messy kisses. She placed her hand on his chest to signal for him to pull away for a moment. He complied looking down at her flushed face and swollen lips.
“Can I sit on it?” she said softly in the most innocent tone possible. The sight of her plump lips pulled into a pout and her doe eyes peering up at him through her cascading lashes were enough to make his dick twitch.
“Course baby,” he punctuated his confirmation with a kiss to her lips before climbing off of her and landing on his back. He laid comfortably against his pillow, waiting for her to make her next move.
Riley sat up and swung her leg over his body. She hovered over his length before Zion helped her sink down onto it. She winced at the initial stretch but released a satisfied sigh once she finally bottomed out.
After taking a moment to adjust to his size, she began to rock her hips back and forth. Once she found her rhythm, Zion got comfortable, hands clasped behind his head watching her titties bounce as she moved above him. She placed her palms on his chest to steady herself and give herself more leverage to bounce on him more quickly.
“Fuck Daddy, you feel so good,” she drawled out with each swivel of her hips. She praised herself internally at the coy slip of the pet name, knowing how much it riled him up during their last rendezvous. As she expected, the sweet phrase flicked a switch for the boy whose large hands found themselves grabbing at her sides hungrily. It was always a surprise to him when she was vulgar during sex as she was usually prim and proper in any other scenario, but his surprise was most certainly not a complaint.
“Say that shit again,” he growled, beginning to thrust up into her.
“You f-feel so good insi-ide me, Daddy,” she moaned, falling forward in response to a particularly forceful slap to her ass. Zion took this opportunity to capture one of her breasts in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around her erect little bud.
Riley began to fall apart above him, the sinful sound of their skin slapping against each other and the full feeling of him thrusting into her so deeply were taking their toll on her. She could barely form a coherent sentence through her incessant whimpers.
“So cl- close,” she stuttered, digging her nails into his shoulders as she prepared herself for a second orgasm, the buildup much more intense than the last. She loudly cried out a chant of “Yes daddy”s, uncontrollably clenching around him while he continued to rail into her from below. She rode out her high, the longest she’d had in a while. Before long, she fell forward onto her lover’s chest in exhaustion with a drawn-out exaggerated sigh.
Just as she was ready to roll off of him and call it a night, Zion reached up and grabbed her by the throat, whispering in her ear, “You ready for number 3 baby?”
Her eyes widened as she weakly replied, catching her breath, “You said one or two. I already came twice.”
With a mischievous smirk, Zion eyed her naked body with the same hunger he had when she first walked through the door. “Yeah well I also said I’d make it worth your while. What can I say? I’m an overachiever,” he chuckled darkly, easing her off of his length. She winced at the newfound emptiness.
“All fours for me baby,” he rasped, sitting up and allowing her to spread out on her hands and knees in front of him.
“Yes daddy,” she did as she was told. Her glistening core and the remarkable roundedness of her rump on full display. He palmed a large handful of her ass, earning a sharp inhale from her.
“So good for me baby,” Zion whispered, palming more of her flesh into his hand before winding it back for another good slap across her right buttcheek. She moaned loudly in response, falling forward on her elbows from the impact.
He lined himself up, teasing her entrance. The tickle of his squishy head rubbing against her opening was becoming unbearable as she was aching to be filled up for a second time. At the sound of Riley whimpering with her bottom lip caught between her teeth, Zion pushed into her slowly, egged on by her surprised gasp. Just as he was about to fill her to her hilt, he took a moment to admire how he seemed to fit inside her so perfectly, almost as if he was the sword to her sheath.
He started off slow to allow Riley to adjust and to ensure that he didn’t bust immediately. He’d been holding off from his release to make sure his girl had gotten multiple. So, needless to say, he was at risk of busting very soon.
His slow thrusts eventually stilled to a complete halt. Before she could open her mouth to complain, his hand came down to spank her bottom once again. He kneaded the area he just slapped as he grumbled to her, “Throw that shit back for me, mama.” And without skipping a beat, Riley began to rock herself back and forth, allowing her ass to crash against him continuously. The sound of her cheeks clapping against his front and her strangled moans at the feeling of getting herself off on him was like music to his ears.  
“Who’s making you feel this good baby?” Zion questioned with yet another smack to her rear.
“You daddy, only you,” she drawled on, speeding up slightly out of an eagerness to please him.
He was so blown away by her ability to take him so well. But he was not surprised when her movements eventually lost their rhythm, knowing she was probably close to her peak. So in an attempt to regain control, he roughly locked his hands at her hips before ramming into her at a relentless pace.
“Oh my god Zion!” she shouted, leaving her mouth hanging wide open. Her strained cries became louder with every snap of his hips.
If this assault on her insides wasn’t enough, not only did Zion dig his knees further into the sheets, allowing himself to lean back and pound into her at a deliciously pleasurable new angle, but he also skimmed his fingers down her front to ferociously rub circles into her pearl. The sensation was almost too much to bear, especially considering the two orgasms she already had under her belt. Her eyes flew shut as she hit her forearm against the bed repeatedly in a motion that most wrestlers would recognize as a “tap out.”
“Ah fuck, m’not gonna last daddy!” she screamed, legs beginning to quiver.
“Me either baby,” he grunted shortly before she pulsed around him so deliciously, milking him for every hot spurt he had in him.
They languidly rode out their climaxes together until Zion gently pulled out of Riley allowing them both to lay back against his satin pillowcases. She clung to his side nuzzling her face into his chest, appreciative of the post-orgasm high he provided her.
“Okay, ‘Mr. Overachiever’,” Riley sighed, still a bit out of breath as she looked up at him with her bright eyes and lazy smile.
“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” he hummed, smacking an obnoxious smooch to her cheek, “Where’s your phone? I’m changing my name in your contacts to that right now.”
He eyed her brightly colored, flower pressed phone case from across the room and attempted to climb off the bed to retrieve the girl’s smartphone from the couch where, until that moment, it had been forgotten.
“No, stoppp,” she giggled, slinging her leg across his torso and pushing his shoulders into the mattress before he could even make a move. He playfully grabbed at her waist, tickling her sides to try to overpower her. She squirmed under his grasp.
“Nah, I’m changing that shit. Maybe people will see it and think I’m tutoring you for once. Whatchu think?” he joked, his hearty laugh combining with her pleading giggles.
Their tickle fight continued until it devolved into a soft, comfortably silent cuddle between them, thoughts of paper deadlines or interfering roommates being long forgotten, and Zion wouldn’t have it any other way.
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maruzzewrites · 4 years
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hey hey hey it’s okay! this was the anonymous submission anon, i suggest just copy and paste this onto a text post then answer it like it was an ask. please keep me “”anonymous””, thank you for entertaining me and a whole bunch of people by the way 💛
have you got any headcanons for la squadra and a chronically ill s/o? cause i do and im going to share them with you so suffer. this is all pretty unrealistic for their characters but im sick of people thinking being chronically ill meaning you can’t have fun or be silly so here we are!!
fellow disabled guy first! i imagine melone and s/o would do rock paper scissors to figure out who has to go get medicine from the hospital. melone always wins >:O . the cupboards are full of fruit and soup because that’s the easiest and healthiest thing that won’t make you feel sick when you’re forced to take medicine.
Dinner nights are just “do you want soup or soup?” “HMMMMMM what about soup?” “melone i almost forgot about that wow you’re so smart”. the house is always extremely warm because heat prevents joint pain so barely anyone comes over to melone and s/o’s place.
that’s likely a positive thing because melone refuses to wear anything else at home aside from a crop top and shorts “melone! put on better clothes the neighbors can see you!” “ew that’s ableist” “melONE NO”
formaggio’s a drifter so he likes that s/o is always stuck in one place because it’s not like they can run away or kick him out easily and he’s just like “oh? you want me to leave? then take me out” and disabled reader is just “i’d call the police on you but you took my phone you fucko”
risotto is scared to lean on them or hug them too hard but s/o at this point is practically numb from being in so much pain so they encourage it. when he finds out risotto is all like “you should not be numb! stop hugging me and take your medication!!!” but dumbass s/o just thinks “heheh hug boyfriend good”
pesci works in a family business selling fish or whatever but s/o tips their shop if they make deliveries to their apartment and pesci always does it because it’s the only excuse he can think of to talk to them and it gets to a point he starts offering to do other grocery shopping for them because he really likes them but has no idea how else to talk to them
ANOTHER formaggio idea is there’s a huge hill and he and s/o grab their wheelchair so they can go stupid fast and so he just sits on reader’s lap as they hecking zooooooom down the road. of course wheelchair wheels were not made for that so they both go into the air and skiiiid down the hill because they’re both chaotic idiots
my own chronic pain makes it so i cant handle the cold so ghia and i go to the skating rink but i barely last ten seconds before i cant walk. therefore he goes and gets one of those walkers they use for beginners on ice, he puts me on that, and then we zoooom around the rink.
if anyone else comes like risotto or something they just push the ice walker between ghia and ris like i’m just a heavy hockey puck. if the ice skating rink doesn’t have walkers, there’s always chipped ice on the rink so in a small corner of the rink i can just sit and chill on the ice while making tiny snowmen.
i then gift it to ghiaccio once he’s done training and then he falls madly in love with me after witnessing my amazing snowmen skills
I can imagine ghiaccio and s/o going grocery shopping but then their legs hurt too much so after ten minutes of begging he lets s/o ride in the shopping trolley so long as he can still put food in there. it starts getting really heavy and s/o is like “ghiaccio honey please stop it’s getting hard to breath with the weight” “then perish”
hope this works for you, dude! also no problem, i’m glad you and my followers like what i put out!
i’m not disabled/chronically ill so take what i say with that in mind. i also think melone is chronically ill but my personal headcanon is that he has stomach/digestive issues and just doesn’t eat when he feels pain. hopefully, his s/o isn’t like that and will actually make him eat something they can both digest.
risotto is probably extremely worried, all the time, if he has the opportunity to carry his s/o anywhere he prefers that option. no, he doesn’t take advantage of that, what are you saying? he also likes to make his s/o lay on him when they sleep, oddly enough he is perfectly still when he has weight on him. never, ever sleep with them too close if they aren’t directly on him, he is scared of hurting them!
formaggio sometimes forgets, like it just passes his mind. but he is so quick to jump into the opportunity to be goofy with it, so he will do any silly thing you ask because he really doesn’t want you to be brought down by your illness and you should feel perfectly normal and comfortable in your own skin. but he is also perfectly fine just taking a lazy day with you.
pesci is ready whenever you call him, whatever you want to ask. he’s the good lad who helps old ladies with groceries if they allow him, so he is willing to do it for you too. and escort you anywhere you want. he just wants to be helpful for you.
prosciutto is very much a worrier in this case, but he’s very much into encouraging you to do things on your own if you manage. he’s always serious so you would have a hard time making him be goofy with you, but he’s also extremely gentle and doesn’t get rough with you because he knows you didn’t choose your condition, he just wants to support you.
illuso is a bit lost at first, but he would bring you into the mirror realm to make you enjoy things you would have a hard time enjoy in the normal world. he also has safehouses all around his world and he is one to cat nap, so just lay with him in this pile of pillows. 
i think ghiaccio would be very good at dealing with pain, he learnt when he was an ice skater how to deal with painful injuries and he tries his best to soothe you. but he also gets pissed off when you insist on being in contact with ice when you get hurt by it, so he always brings scarves and gloves and beanies to warm you up after and he doesn’t care it’s august! think before you act!
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katlyn1948 · 4 years
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On My Way: For the Gendrya Gift Exchange
@thereluctantbadger this is for you! I enjoyed doing this for the @gendrya-gift-exchange
I hope you enjoy!! 
Also I wanted to add, I left the story quite open ended, so don’t hate me if you don’t like open ended stories!!! 
On My Way
Katlyn1948
Summary:
Based off of the prompt: Gendry is trying to get to the hospital before Arya gives birth.
Notes:
For TheReluctantBadger.
So...this is my submission for Gendrya Gift Exchange. I am not going to lie, I had a hard time with this prompt and this story is REALLY dialogue heavy. I had a lot of different ideas of what I wanted to do, but they all just seemed meh. I finally came up with this alternating POV's idea and what Arya and Gendry are doing individually. I didn't have time to edit this as well, I've been really busy at work (it is always like this at the end of the year) and have hardly any time to write any of my WIPs. The deadline for this was tomorrow and I wanted to post it today because I know I wouldn't have time to do it tomorrow. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!!
Work Text:
ARYA
Arya was uncomfortable.
She was more than that; she was miserable.
It was two weeks well past her due date and she was sure that her child would never come into the world. Why she even agreed to have a child was beside her. Sure, Gendry had begged and pleaded and gave her the cutest, stupidest puppy dog eyes known to man. However, the fact that she actually caved still astounded her. She never considered herself the motherly type, yet as her pregnancy progressed, she found herself falling in love with the being growing inside her.
She was ready, that she was sure of; she just needed to get it out of her womb.
Restless nights began the beginning of her third trimester and eventually kicking Gendry out of the bed was the only sure way she could get a moderate good night’s rest, but when the end of her pregnancy (or so she thought) approached, sleep was the last thing she could get. Her swollen stomach and the constant somersaults her baby insisted on doing kept her up most of the night. Not even the kind presence of her husband could soothe her insomnia.
“Maybe we should walk the neighborhood. I heard it could help induce labor.” Gendry stated three days after her due date.
Arya was sitting on the couch opposite him, fiddling with crochet needles and yarn. She taken up the hobby the moment her OBGYN put her on strict bed rest because of her petite frame and sheer size of her over grown belly. She wanted to make a simple hat of the baby, but it was turning more into a sock, despite her constant efforts.
“Gendry, I’m fine. The doctor said that these things are normal. I’m sure the baby will come in a few days’ time.” She said as she struggled with the current row of stiches.
Gendry snorted, “Watch it come so unexpectedly, not even you nor I will be prepared.”
Arya’s eyes snapped up to meet his, a very distinctive glare pooling from her irises, “Don’t you dare jinx me. I have been prepared since the doctor put me on bed rest. I am ready for this baby, are you?”
“Of course I am! I just finished setting up the crib and the walls of the nursery are pained that soft pale yellow you wanted.” Gendry pretended to be insulted by Arya’s words, gasping with feigned innocence.
Arya scoffed, “It’s more to it than that.”
She shook her head at him, returning her attention to the pile of yarn sitting on her lap. It really was futile effort, for she was never one for such crafts. She knew how to sew a button on shirt of course, but crocheting was an entirely different feat.
Arya struggled with the last few stiches before finally throwing the needles across the living room with a resounding clank.
“Is everything alright?” Gendry asked as he moved by her side.
“No.” Arya whimpered. “I really want this baby out of me.”
Gendry sighed, pulling Arya into his arms so she could rest on his chest. “The baby will come and she will be perfect just like her mother.”
“She?”
“I feel like it’s a girl, don’t you?”
Arya groaned, “I don’t know, maybe it should make its way into the world so I can find out!”
She poked at her belly, trying to get a ruse out of the babe within her. A few moments passed before a noticeable kick protruded, causing Arya to grunt in discomfort.
“I don’t think she liked that.” Gendry teased.
Arya turned in his arms, punching his gut a little more forcefully than she intended, “Shut up, stupid.”
GENDRY
He had fallen asleep on the couch with Arya nestled in his arms.
She has been so uncomfortable as of late, that he tried to do anything he could to help with her ever growing stomach, even if it meant giving up his bed.
The first time he was kicked out of their room, he was sure that he had done something stupid. There were plenty of times where Gendry would do something without thinking, causing Arya to completely ghost him, even if he was two feet away.
But that night he knew that there was nothing that he had done that day that could have caused her to be upset with him, so instead of marching off to the couch without question, he huffed and barged into their room, with the lights on full blast.
“What in the bloody seven hells is wrong with you!” She barked from their bed.
“Why are you kicking me out of our bed. I know I didn’t do anything.” Gendry countered, his lips pursing in annoyance.
He could hear Arya’s muffled groan from under her pillow as she threw their duvet off her body, “I know you didn’t do anything, you stupid bull! I kicked you out because you’re uncomfortable.”
Gendry looked at with confusion, “I’m…uncomfortable?”
“Yes! With this growing baby and your sheer size, I cannot find a comfortable position to sleep in, so I kicked you out. Surely, you don’t want your pregnant wife sleeping on the couch.” She questioned.
Gendry’s cheeks went red, “No?”
“Good answer. Now, if you please, shut of the damn light and let me sleep!” Before Gendry could understand what was going on, a white pillow came flying towards his face. He dodged it easily but complied with his wife’s wishes and made himself comfortable on the couch.
Three months had gone by and he was still confided to the couch, unable to get a decent rest since. He didn’t complain, but his back sure was screaming from the lack of a proper bed. He knew how miserable Arya had been, considering she was nearing two weeks past her due date, and anything he could to help appease her uncomfortableness, he would gladly do.
This night, however, she had fallen asleep right with him, and he was sure that this was the first night she truly had a good rest since kicking him out of their room.
He groaned a bit as he shifted from under her, being mindful not wake her. He reached to the couch side table and clicked his phone, watching as the screen illuminated to read the time. It was nearing 7 am and he was surprised that he already had four missed calls and six text messages from Clegane.
“Shit!” he whispered as he read one of the messages sent.
Two of their mechanics had rang sick and the shop was behind on appointments.
Although Gendry was out for the rest of year, considering Arya was about to pop, he knew that Clegane would need the extra hands. He may have been co-owner, but he still had a responsibility to their clients. So, with a defeated sigh, he gently shook Arya to wake her from her slumber.
“Arya, love, I need to get up.”
He watched as she crinkled her face in annoyance, letting a yawn escape her lips, “Why? You don’t have to go to work.”
“But I do.”
That got her attention. She sprang up from his chest and gave him a glare.
“Don’t look at me like that. Clegane called and two of our mechanics rang sick, I have to go.” He countered.
“Gendry, Sandor can call any of your other mechanics; let one of them come in.”
Gendry shook his head, “I can’t do that. Lem is out on holiday; I doubt he is even in the country, and Anguy his with Beric on a supply run. It will only be for a few hours and I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone.”
“It’s three days before Christmas, Gen. It is one of the busiest days of the year for travel. Everyone is trying to get their car maintenance before they leave on gods know what kind of road trip. Imagine the traffic out there now; you won’t be home until late.”
“Isn’t Sansa supposed to stop by today and have tea? Spend some time with her, I’m sure there is lots you two need to catch up on.” He smiled.
“I’m not some gossiping house wife, but it would be nice to spend time with her.” She said with a defeated sigh.
Gendry smiled, “Great! Now I have to get ready.” He placed a quick kiss on her lips before shuffling out from under her.
“You tell Sandor that if you’re not home by seven, I’ll castrate him!” Gendry heard her yell as he ran off into their bedroom.
He chuckled under his breath before yelling back, “As you wish, milady.”
ARYA
It was nearing 10 AM and Arya was bored out of her mind.
Gendry had left her to do the right thing and Sansa was 45 minutes late due to the ridiculous amounts of traffic that had transpired, leaving Arya alone and miserable. She had given up on her crochet hat, unable to take the painstakingly precision it required to make such a thing. She opted out on buying a light-yellow knitted hat on Amazon three minutes after she threw the yarn and crocheting needles in the garbage bin.
There were so many Nintendo Switch games she could play and the stupid computer players on Super Smash Bros. were not taking it easy on her.
Being bed rest, or as she liked to call it, ‘House Arrest’, was becoming more an issue for Arya than she thought it would be.
For three months straight she had to ‘take it easy’ and ‘be mindful’ so that she didn’t put her baby or herself as risk. Arya understood that she had to be careful, but she wasn’t expecting bed rest to be so restraining. Sure, she could get up and walk about her house or even make her way to the back yard for some fresh air, but anything else seemed like a big no-no.
Her OB-GYN gave her the go ahead to do some light exercises, but not at the gym and certainly nothing that she used to do before getting pregnant.
It was suffocating, and she was beginning to hate being pregnant.
She wanted her freedom, or a least a trip to the grocery store without having to get permission. She couldn’t wait for the baby to be here and in her arms, for at least she would be able to get out of her house when it did finally arrive, even if it is a trip to the hospital.
She grumbled in frustration for a few more minutes before her doorbell rang, indicating that Sansa had finally made it through the traffic.
Arya struggled a bit to lift herself from the couch, huffing for a breath as she finally got her bearings. She waddled over to the door and swiftly pulled it open, immediately pulling her sister into an awkward hug.
“Oh, look at you! You’re so-”
“If you say big, I will punch you.” She deadpanned.
“Radiating. You’re so radiating.” Sansa quickly recovered.
Arya stepped aside from the entryway and allowed her sister to enter the house.
“So, where is Gendry?” Sansa said as she shrugged off her coat and draped it across a dining chair.
“At work. Apparently two of his mechanics rang sick and he had to go and cover the shift.”
“But he is supposed to be out until the new year. What was Sandor thinking?”
Arya shrugged, “I tried to convince him to stay, but you know how Gendry is. He wouldn’t be able to leave the shop like that.”
“He is such a good man; you really did get lucky with him.” Sansa sighed.
“I did, didn’t I?” Arya chuckled.
The two sisters enjoyed the comfortable silence as Arya made her way into the kitchen, pouring two mugs of hot tea. She shuffled her way back to the dining table and gently placed the mug on the table for Sansa to grab.
“So, how have you been?” Sansa asked as she took a sip of her tea.
“Tired, irritable, cranky…I mean the list goes on.”
“Well, you look like you’re about to pop.”
Arya scoffed, “I wish! The baby is nearly two weeks late and it won’t stop kicking me to death!”
Sansa’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head when she hears her sister’s words, “Two weeks! Arya, have you told your doctor?”
“Of course, I have!”
“And?”
“They will induce on Christmas Eve, if the baby doesn’t come before then.” She admitted.
Sansa sighed, “Okay, does Gendry know? And that is just in two days, It won’t be long until you have your baby in your arms.”
Arya groaned in frustration, “No, he doesn’t know and that’s not the point, Sansa.”
“Then what is it?”
Arya took a breath in order to gather her bearings, “I don’t want to be induced. I want this baby to come when it’s ready, not because some doctor had to make it so. I want to do this the right way.”
Sansa looked at her sister. For the first time in her life, she saw Arya vulnerable and afraid and all she could do was sweep her little sister in her arms and hug her.
“It will be alright. You have two days, right. That gives this baby plenty of time to come on its own volition.”
Arya embraced her sister tightly and was thankful for her visit.
She hadn’t seen her Sansa since last Christmas, and she was sorely missing sister constant advice. They may not have gotten along when they were younger, but now as adults she was grateful for Sansa.
“I hope you’re right.” Arya whispered as they pulled away from their hug.
She hadn’t realized that Sansa’s tea mug was sitting on the edge of the table when she knocked it over with her elbow, causing it to shatter on the hardwood floor.
“Shit!” She cursed as she bent down to pick up the mess.
Arya was no more than halfway over when she felt an immediate pressure in lower back, along with the steady stream of liquid running down her legs. She gasped and pulled herself straight before placing a hand over her protruding stomach.
“What is it?” Sansa asked as she rose from her dining chair to aid her sister.
“I think…I think my water just broke.”
GENDRY
The normal fifteen-minute drive it took to get from his house to the shop turned into a 45-minute obstacle from hell. To Gendry, it seemed as if everyone on the face of the planet was trying to get out of King’s Landing, making it near impossible to get to the shop any sooner.
He could already hear Clegane’s mouth and would have to brace himself for a whole slew of profanities that was sure to come his way as soon as he entered the shop.
Why he went into business with the famed boxer, Sandon ‘The Hound’ Clegane, was beyond Gendry. He knew he had a soft spot for Arya, considering he trained her for nearly decade in competitive boxing, but Gendry never believed that he would agree to open a mechanic shop with him.
It was a desperate move on Gendry’s end, that turned out to be rewarding. Sure, he had to suffer constant verbal abuse from the man, but it could have been worse, or at least that’s what Gendry tells himself.
For three and half years they’ve been in business. One would think that after spending all that time with one another, they would grow to become friends, but that was far from what happened. If anything, their constant bickering has only gotten worse, making for interesting work days.
Gendry rounded the corner, seeing his shop come into view.
It was modest; no where near some of the other mechanic shops that were around King’ Landing, but it had a welcoming feel that invited all types of people from around the area. In the short time they’ve been open, the shop has grown quite the clientele. Everything from high politicians to working class citizens; they all came for the services that Gendry and Clegane had to offer.
“Gendry? What are you doing here?” A familiar voice stopped him on the way to the back of the shop.
He turned as was greeted by the same blue eyes that he possessed. His sister, Mya, was seated at the receptionist desk with a large cup of coffee and a half-eaten cheese Danish. She looked exhausted and hadn’t expected her brother to walk in.
“Clegane called me in, considering we are two men down.” He said with a shrug.
“Fucking Clegane! I told him not to call you. He knows that Arya can pop at any moment, besides you are on holiday for another three weeks!” She scolded him.
Gendry rose his hands in defense, “Hey, don’t take it out on me, tell the other boss man.”
“I’m going to kill him.” She huffed.
Gendry chuckled before realizing that she shouldn’t have been there.
“Wait, what are you doing here? Don’t you have today off? Where is Bella?” He threw questions at her.
Mya sighed, “Bella had an audition today, so she asked me to cover her shift. She should be here in a couple of minutes to relieve me. I must get back home to the girls.”
“How long have you been here?” He asked as he wandered over to the desk, placing his elbows on the desk.
“Since one in the morning. You know, you should really re-consider this whole 24-hour thing.” She said with a yawn.
“And who is with the girls?”
“Edric.”
Gendry scoffed, “You left Edric alone with children? I’d say you have a better chance at keeping them alive here at the shop.”
“Oh, I’m sure he will be hiding away in a corner when I get home.” She chuckled.
Gendry smiled before turning back to head to the back of the shop.
“Oh wait! Before I forget…Edric told me that father wants to spend Christmas with us. I really don’t want to and I’m sure you and Arya want to take it slow, with the baby and everything.”
“Actually, the Starks are coming for Christmas, so Arya and I will be spending the holiday with them.”
“In your tiny house?”
“Gods no! The Starks have a manor here in King’s Landing, we will be there. You’re welcome to join. I’m sure the girls would love it and Robb’s boys are going to be there.”  He admitted.
Mya nodded, “I think I’ll take you up on that offer. The girls loved spending time with them at Sansa’s wedding last summer. They will be glad to see them again.”
“Good then it’s settled. Now, I have to hurry to the back before Clegane rips my head off.”
Mya chuckled and waved her brother off, “Go.”
Gendry smiled and jogged off towards the back, preparing himself for the worst.
He managed to slip into the break room without Clegane seeing him and pulled on his work overalls. Every inch of the grey-blue suit was covered in grease spots. There was a whole in the front left breast area and the seem of one of his sleeves was coming apart. The overalls had been with since his first days as a mechanic and Mott’s and he wasn’t willing to part with them just yet. The zipper still worked, and for the most part, it was in one piece. Clegane had called is a piece of shit, and Gendry couldn’t argue with his sentiments, but they were nostalgic for Gendry and so long as they still did their job, the overalls were staying on his body.
He pulled on his steel-toe work boots (he learned from his past mistakes) and laced them tight to keep them in place. Slamming the locker closed, he made his way to the work floor where three of his workers were working on two different cars.
“Oi! If it doesn’t need two people, then one you lot get our arse working on that back car.” He yelled, pointing to the mini van across the shop floor.
One of the newer mechanics, Oliver, scurried over to the minivan and began assessing what needed to be done.
“Well its about fucking time you showed up!” Clegane staggered over to Gendry with a very distinguished glare.
“Sorry, Clegane, the traffic was horrible.” Gendry tried to reason.
“Cry me a fucking river, Baratheon. We have appointments back up to fucking Winterfell and not enough men to cover it. I’ve already got bitched on by some snooty politician’s wife and a butcher nearly severed my head. I don’t have time for your sob stories. Oh, and turn off that fucking phone of yours, yeah? I don’t need you distracted.”
“But, Clegane, I can’t do that. Arya is-”
“I know the she wolf is about to pop, but if she hasn’t given birth now, she ain’t going to in the next couple of hours. Now, turn it off before I break the fucking thing.” He turned on his heel and stomped off towards the other mechanics on the floor, barking out commands as he did so.
Gendry cursed under his breath, praying to the gods above that nothing happened while he was working.
ARYA
The pressure in her back began to increase as Sansa weaved her way through the horrible traffic that had descended upon King’s Landing. She could feel the throbbing pains hit her every five minutes and she was sure they would never make it to the hospital on time.
She tried to focus on her breathing and not the buzzing world around her, but Sansa’s constant screaming at people who couldn’t even hear her made it near impossible.
“Have you tried calling him again?” Arya asked through gritted teeth. Sansa had been trying to ring Gendry for the last hour, but the call would go to voicemail every time. It was becoming annoying and Arya swore that if Gendry missed the birth of their child, she would string him up by his testicles and never sleep with him again.
“There is no answer-move out of the fucking way!”  She yelled once more.
“Well did you try the shop?”
“The line is busy. Probably all the last-minute people trying to get their cars fixed before the new year.”
Arya groaned as another wave of pain hit. “Uh…try Mya. I think she has a shift today-ahh.”
Sansa nodded and began dialing the number on her phone and placing it to her ear.
“Uh, Mya?...Hi! this is Sansa Stark-yes, Arya’s sister. Are you at the shop?....Oh, well is there a way to reach them?....Well the line is busy…..Arya is in labor….yes, and we’ve tried his cell, but it goes straight to voicemail….he what?!....My sister is going to kill him…..will you?.....that would be great!....see you then, bye!”
“Wha-what did she say?” Arya huffed.
“Well, she’s not at the shop. She left about fifteen minutes ago, but she doesn’t live far and is headed back over there. It seems Sandor made Gendry shut off his phone.”
Arya groaned and she clutched her stomach, “WHAT! I’m going to murder them both! Oh my gods! Are we there yet?!”
Sweat was dripping down her face and the pain was becoming increasingly unbearable. She wasn’t sure how long it would be until the baby finally did come, but she hoped it wasn’t until its father made his appearance.
“We should be there in about two minutes, maybe five.”
Arya grimaced, “For your sake, I hope its two.”
GENDRY
Work came easily for Gendry and he could easily find himself distracted with it. He enjoyed the pastime and found a real comfort in doing what he did. Since he was a teenager, he had been working in shops across King’s Landing, picking up skills from other mechanics along the way.
It wasn’t until he reached Mott’s shop that he realized he could do this for a living.
Mott taught him almost everything he needed to know how to do the trade and when it was time for him to leave and try to make is own way, he took all that knowledge and made it into what his shop is today.
There was something about working with steel and metal and all the intricate little parts of car that intrigued Gendry. It was like a puzzle that he couldn’t wait to piece together.
He was working on a very expensive car with a very expensive engine problem.
Tyrion Lannister had used it for street racing…again and ruined the engine by doing so. It wasn’t an easy fix and it sure wasn’t a fast one, but Gendry new what the problem was and could easily have it done before the end of the day.
He had quoted the play boy for two days work, but if he managed to stay on schedule, then he could be a full day ahead.
He was under the car, so anything going on around him he could hardly hear. He was trying to patch through some wires when he was dragged out from under the car with Sandor Clegane looming over him.
“What the fuck, Clegane! I was working!”
“Not anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
Clegane threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to a person behind him.
Gendry groaned as he lifted himself up, wiping his dirty hands on his overalls. He thought he was about to meet with another client, not his older sister who he last seen just two hours prior.
Her expression looked grim and her face pale. It looked like she had received bad news. Gendry swiftly made his way over to where his stood, gently placing his hands on her shoulders, “Mya, what’s wrong? Are the girls okay?”
Mya nodded, “The girls are fine, but you’re not.”
“What do you mean?”
“Arya is in labor and she nor Sansa have been able to get ahold of you! Why in the seven hells would you turn off your phone!”
“Well Clegane made me-wait, what? Arya is in labor!”
Mya scoffed, “Yes, you daft buffoon! Now come on, we have to go!”
Gendry nodded and scurried after his sister, leaving the shop and Sandon Clegane behind.
ARYA
The steady beep of machines echoed around the hospital room.
As soon as Sansa pulled up to the ER, the nurses were able to get Arya situated into a room, with everything she needed to be settled.
The epidural was less than pleasant, but the effects the medicine was giving was like heaven to Arya.
Sansa had been making phone calls to all the necessary people, letting them know that she was due to give birth at any hour. Of course, she may have been over exaggerating, considering Arya’s OB-GYN put her at seven centimeters dilated.  
“Well, Arya, it’s a good thing you came in when you did. You very well may have had this baby in the car if it wasn’t for your sister’s driving.” Her doctor, Margaery Tyrell, explained.
“I didn’t realize she has such road rage until today.” She laughed.
“Yes, well you were-are in labor.” Sansa countered.
“Let’s hope your husband is able to make it through that unruly traffic.” Dr. Tyrell assured.
Sansa nodded, “Yes, let’s hope.”
Dr. Tyrell gave a small smile before exiting the room, leaving the two sisters.
They had tried to call Gendry four more times since settling in, yet there was still no answer. Arya was beginning to worry and hoped that he would make it. His lack of communication was not comforting, and the last thing Arya needed was the added stress of not knowing where her husband was.
Gendry was never late…for anything, yet he decides that today would be a good day to be.
GENDRY
Gendry was a timid man, for the most part, but now he was keeping true to the nickname Arya had given him. Like a bull, he was forcing his way through the traffic, trying to reach the hospital before his child entered the world. His hand was on the horn more than it was on the steering wheel, and his anger flared anytime someone decided to cut him off.
“Gendry, brother, maybe you should slow down? The last thing you need a speeding ticket.” Mya tried to reason with him, but he was unstoppable.
“Mya, I have to get to the hospital. Arya could be giving birth as we speak!”
“Okay, she’s not. I just texted Sansa, and the doctor puts her at about eight centimeters. I’d say we have an hour or two tops before she ready to push, that is if she is progressing normally. But if she’s progressing faster than normal then…”
“Then what?”
“Then maybe ten or fifteen minutes.”
“Shit!”
ARYA
“Where is he!” Arya exclaimed. She was becoming increasingly paranoid, and it did little to help her current situation.
“I told you he is on his way. Mya said they should be here in ten minutes.” Sansa said calmly from across the hospital room.
“Sansa, I’m not sure I have ten minutes. I am eight centimeters, probably nearing nine. I can feel the pressure and I’m sure I will have to push here soon.” The tears began to stream down her face, and she was sure she looked like a blubbering idiot. This shouldn’t have made her emotional, but between her missing husband and the impending birth of her child, she couldn’t help but let them flow.
“Arya, he will be here, and if not, then I am right by your side.” Sansa crossed the room and bent down to give her sister a hug.
Arya smiled and returned the embrace, hoping that Gendry made his appearance soon.
A ding from Sansa’s phone interrupted their sisterly hug.
Sansa grabbed the phone from the small table and huffed in frustration.
“What? What is it?” Arya asked.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Well, where are you going? Sansa? What’s happening?”
GENDRY
He wasn’t sure how he made it to the hospital in under twenty minutes, but he did. His truck was parked haphazardly and his paces to the front desk were large. Mya was struggling to keep up with him, but he didn’t care. His main goal was to find Arya’s room and be there for his wife and child.
“Excuse me?” He said to the receptionist at the front desk.
She was chatting with several nurses, completely unaware of his presence.
He cleared his throat and said once more, “Excuse me?”
“Yes?” The receptionist asked with a very snooty voice.
“I am looking for Arya Stark’s room number.”
“Name?”
“I just said it was ‘Arya Stark’.” He deadpanned.
The receptionist sighed, “Your name.”
“It’s Gendry Baratheon, I’m her husband.”
“Then why isn’t she under Arya Baratheon?” the receptionist stalled.
“Because she kept her maiden name…look that is besides the point. I need to know what room number she is in. She is about to give birth to our child, and I need to be there.” He said a little frantically.
“Sir, there is no need for hostility. Please be patient while I look her up in my systems.”
Gendry gave a curt laugh, “Hostility? I am not being hostile. If anything, you are the one being hostile! I just need to know my wife’s room number!”
“Sir, please calm down before I call security. Now we have to verify who you say you are, that could take a couple of minutes. So please be pati-”
“Fucking hells!” Gendry yelled as he slammed his fists against the desk.
He grumbled in frustration as he fished his forgotten phone out of his overall pocket. He quickly turned it on and typed frantically on the keyboard, waiting for a reply. A few seconds later and his phone dinged with a response.
“Sir, we need your ID.” The receptionist cooed from the desk.
“Look, I forgot my wallet in the car, but my sister-in-law is coming down and I’ll go up with her.” He assured.
“We cannot allow th-”
“Is there a problem?”
Gendry’s lips curled into a smile as he saw the familiar red flame of hair make her way to the desk.
“Ma’am, please give me a moment.”
“No, you see, this is Gendry Baratheon. Maybe you’ve heard of his father, Robert Baratheon? The famed political power house that nearly became Prime Minster? Or perhaps you’ve heard of my father, Eddard Stark? Councilman of the north? How do you think they would react if I told them that Gendry here had to miss the birth of his child because of silly nonsense?” She smirked.
“I-I, well…”
“Exactly what I thought. Now, please excuse us.”
Gendry smirked and followed Sansa up to the maternity ward, where Arya’s room was now filled with doctors and nurses alike.
“Just in time, Mr. Baratheon. Mrs. Stark here is about ready to push.” Dr. Tyrell smiled.
Gendry smiled and pushed his way through the nurses in order to get in Arya’s side.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it.” She huffed.
“And miss this? You’re crazy.” He gave her a small kiss and prepared to meet his child.
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