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skzleeknow12 · 3 years

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Final Escape - Lee Know

Warning: Yandere themes (I do not support yandere themes in reality, this is just for the story), mentions of blood and death

Word Count: Approximately 2.8k

…

He picked up her limp form and quickly ran into the woods, not stopping even when her weight somehow seemed to drag him down. She had a petite body, why did it suddenly weigh so much? After running for what felt like hours, he hid behind a large tree, knowing there was no way anyone would venture this far into the woods. Finally, it was just the two of them again, just as he liked.

Minho laid her blood-stained body onto the ground and took her hand in his, rubbing small circles onto the back of hers.

“You can wake up now,” he murmured softly, “no one will find us here. It’s only the two of us here, just how we like it. Open your eyes.” She remained still, not even breathing at a normal volume to show she was awake. Minho was getting impatient; she knew how much he hated being made to wait; so where had this sudden confidence come from that stopped her from listening to him.

“Get up,” he said once again, lightly shaking her arm. He decided he wouldn’t get angry just yet, he would wait for her to open her eyes first. Afterall, he knew she would end up listening to him. She loved him too much not to. However he was shocked to see that she hadn’t moved a single muscle since he laid her down. That was it; enough was enough. Minho held his hand in the air before harshly bringing it down to her cheek, causing the sound of the slap to echo in the quiet wooded area. Yet she did not stir. He slapped her again and again, but she gave no reaction. Her face remained deadly pale; even the force of his hand was not enough to cause a red imprint on her cheek. Minho realised with a start that she looked very similar to… a dead person. No, she couldn’t be dead. He loved her and she loved him, there was no way she would leave him like that.

Minho grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her wildly whilst shrieking her name brokenly, but it did nothing.

“WAKE UP!” he screamed as her head lolled to the side, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, looking eerily empty. “STOP PLAYING AROUND, OPEN YOUR EYES! LOOK AT ME!” He suddenly felt a weird texture coating her silky hair. Confused, Minho turned her body around so that her face was towards the ground. He gingerly felt the back of her hair when he caught the sudden stench of blood coming from it. He furrowed his eyebrows as the memories of the previous hours of that day came back to him.

“Minho where are we going?” she asked, fear evident in her tone as she glanced around the car nervously. Minho merely chuckled in a sinister manner as he kept one hand on the steering wheel whilst the other held her hand rather tightly, hurting her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in mock-confusion. “You’re the one who wanted to go out for a bit, so we’re going. Besides, I have a little surprise for you.” She couldn’t do anything apart from sit still in fear. The radio was on and Minho was happily humming to the familiar song. He didn’t look angry, quite the opposite actually, but she had a bad feeling about this. Minho seemed in a mood too good to be true. He had a smile on his face that to others would look charming, but she knew him well enough to know that the reason for it had to be something inhumane and gruesome.

She tried to think back to remember if she had done anything to make him angry, but nothing came to her mind. She had gone out shopping a few days ago with her friends and then in the evening she had dinner with them and the guys in a restaurant. She suddenly realised that she had forgotten to tell Minho that she was going out with her friends for her birthday. To be honest, she had assumed that, like every weekday, he would be coming home late so she didn’t think it was a problem. She remembered coming home a bit drunk but she couldn’t remember anything else, other than the fact that she could somehow smell her favourite meal cooking from the kitchen. She had been so exhausted though, that she had paid no attention to it and gone straight to bed, and she just realised as she was sitting in the car that Minho’s private studies light was on… meaning he had been home.

She grew increasingly tense, and if Minho noticed he didn’t let on that he had.

“Wait why are we here?” she asked suddenly. She realised that Minho was driving towards the edge of the woods where an old, abandoned warehouse was situated. Minho merely chuckled in response and didn’t reply, causing her to grab onto his arm without thinking. She was shocked at herself and immediately regretted her actions, knowing for sure she would get punished for her behaviour, but Minho just raised an eyebrow with an amused expression on his face.

“You’re getting bolder, love,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road, “a bit too bold for my liking.” She saw how his grip tightened on the wheel and she immediately let go of his arm, shrinking back in her seat. “Let’s talk about the sudden wave of disobedience that’s come over you, shall we? Like when you tried to escape me by going out for dinner with those excuses you call friends?” she felt her chest tighten with anxiety when she heard the tone of his voice, and mentally slapped herself for not telling him. Of course now he was bound to get the wrong idea. She decided to play dumb.

“W-what do you mean?” she stuttered, closing her eyes at her stupidity. “I d-did tell you I was gonna go for a bit.” Minho sighed deeply and she knew he was controlling his sure-to-come outburst.

“Then why are you stuttering, love?” he asked with an evil smirk plastered across his face. When she didn’t reply, he grew angry and banged his hand against the wheel, causing it to honk loudly. “ANSWER ME!” She remained silent and Minho rolled his eyes. “Were you really so desperate to see those boys and run away with them?” her eyes widened and she quickly shook her head at his wrong accusation, but to his corrupt brain, it looked as if she was getting defensive just because she had been caught. “DON’T LIE TO ME! WAS MY LOVE NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU?” and as suddenly as his anger came it went, causing the car to go silent once more, which she knew was not a good sign. She turned her head to analyse his facial expressions, and was horrified when she saw a sadistic smile on his face as he kept his eyes on the road. “Don’t worry darling, you won’t get to try and run away with them again, I’ve made sure of it.” She tensed up and was visibly shaking due to fear of what Minho had done, and that made him satisfied, knowing what kind of effect he had on her.

They finally reached outside the old warehouse and the two got out of the car. Minho started walking towards the entrance of the warehouse and for a minute, she thought of running away before his cold voice stopped her.

“Don’t even think of running away love, you know I would eventually find you,” he said menacingly and she gulped because she knew he was right. There was no way he would rest until he found her, and it was with the thought of this that she followed him into the warehouse. It was eerily quiet and dark inside and there was a strange stench in the room, until Minho flipped the switch and the lights turned on. What she saw next made her want to puke.

In front of her was a long table filled with different food and desserts as well as a big birthday cake; it seemed like it was all for her. However, sitting on the chairs behind the table were none other than her friends she had met up with for her birthday, all bloodied and beaten and quite visibly dead. She gasped loudly and turned to look at Minho, who had his nose wrinkled in disgust as he looked at the sight in front of them.

“Disgusting,” he muttered under his breath as he grabbed her hand and led her forward, much to her horror, “making the birthday room smell already. Don’t worry love, we’ll leave as soon as we finish your birthday celebrations.”

“M-minho…” she mumbled as she fought the tears in her eyes. She could feel her breakfast coming up her throat and swallowed roughly. “What… what have you done?” Minho looked at her with fake confusion on his face.

“What do you mean love?” he asked innocently. “Don’t you like my surprise? I worked so hard on it.” She felt so horrified and disgusted that she had no idea what to even say to him.

“My friends…” she whispered as she looked at her friend’s dead bodies. Their faces were covered with blood and their throats had been slit, revealing all the blood and gore underneath the skin. Minho’s eyebrows furrowed with annoyance as he heard the worry in her tone for her pathetic friends. He knew that if it had been him in their place she wouldn’t have been upset at all.

“Ah yes, I see why these pathetic excuses for friends would ruin the mood a bit,” he said, mocking thoughtfulness. “Have a seat love, we can celebrate by ourselves-”

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?!” she suddenly screamed, making him pause in surprise; she had never raised her voice at him like this and it annoyed him even more that it was due to her friends. Even after their death they continued coming between the two. She walked towards him and started banging her fists against his chest, abundant tears running down her cheeks uncontrollably. “WHY? WHAT DID THEY DO THAT YOU HAD TO DO THIS? HUH? WHY DID YOU DO THIS?” Minho easily caught her two fists and threw her onto the floor, looking at her pathetically whimpering on the floor. He crouched down to her level and reached his hand out towards her face, lifting her chin so that they were maintaining eye contact. He ignored the way she flinched away from him and kept a tight hold on her chin.

“I did this,” he whispered sinisterly, “because they were taking you away from me. You even sneaked out to meet them without my permission, I had to do something. They won’t bother us now.” She cried harder at the truth of his last sentence; her friends wouldn’t be able to do anything anymore.

“They’re… my friends, Minho… I didn’t… sneak out… we just c-celebrated my… birthday,” she gasped between heavy sobs and for a second Minho had the tiniest bit of sympathy for her, until he realised she had just taken advantage of his love for her. It seemed he would have to punish her more severely. Clearly her last punishment of isolation in the basement wasn’t enough. But he couldn’t let her anticipate any kind of punishment, which was why with a heavy sigh, he got up and went to the table, grimacing as he looked at the dead people in front of him. He grabbed a plate and put a big slice of cake on it before bringing it to her. However, she just pushed it away harshly, causing him to roll his eyes in annoyance as he sat down in front of her. He grabbed her face with his one hand, causing her cheeks to squish together and open. He ignored her protests and put a big piece of the slice of cake into her mouth as she coughed and choked. He forced his fingers into her mouth, pushing the cake in even more until she had no choice but to obey and eat the cake. He smiled, pleased with himself as he gave the cake to her, and she had enough sense this time to just take it and eat it herself.

“It’s nice, right?” he asked, “I ordered and designed it myself.” She merely replied with a nod, too numb from crying to do anything else. Minho sighed for the umpteenth time whilst clicking his teeth together. He realised she wasn’t going to let him enjoy the “party”, so he stood up, pulling her up with him. “Let’s go home,” he said as he pulled her out through the doorway, not allowing her to give one last glance at her friends. That was when the warning signs started flashing in her brain; she couldn’t go home with him. There was no telling what he would do with her when they got back and she didn’t want to be trapped there again. She had to escape. Minho let go of her hand for one second and she took the opportunity and immediately started running away from him, mentally cursing her short legs for not taking her further. As she ran she looked over her shoulder and to her horror, she saw Minho just standing next to the car, staring at her whilst smiling.

“I’ll give you a head-start,” he called to her and she forced her legs to go faster, “and then I’ll come.” She immediately started sprinting faster, realising she was nearing the woods that marked the end of the city. However, now was not the time to be scared of the woods; she had to get away as soon as possible. But soon, she heard the sound of a car engine and when she turned around to look, she nearly fainted when she saw Minho getting increasingly closer to her in the car. The car was speeding up and she knew she wouldn’t be able to escape him. Finally with a frustrated and terrified shriek, she threw herself down onto the ground and she heard the car come to a stop. She hid her face as she heard his footsteps approach her. She felt him stand above her and felt sick as she heard him chuckling.

“You really thought you could escape me?” he asked amusedly and he leant down to yank her up by her hair, causing her to yelp loudly. His glare was hard and she immediately regretted giving up running away. “Get in the car, we’ll discuss this at home.” She hesitated before stubbornly shaking her head, unable to form any sentences. She would not go home, she couldn’t. He would kill her with his torture and punishments.

“What do you mean no?” he asked, teeth gritted as he shook her hard. She shook her head again and Minho pushed her backwards, causing her to stumble into a tree until she was pushed up against it. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her forward before smashing her back into the tree multiple times.

“ALL I HAVE DONE IS LOVED YOU AND YET YOU TRY TO RUN AWAY FROM ME?” he yelled as he carried on his actions, paying no attention to her pleas for him to stop, or the way her eyes rolled into the back of her head, or how her head suddenly slumped forward. He was fuming and he wasn’t paying attention to anything else. “YOU BELONG TO ME AND ONLY ME! YOU WILL COME HOME WITH ME, WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!” He let go of her and she slumped before falling to the ground harshly. Minho kicked her roughly before running his fingers through his hair frustratedly. He looked at the tree and for a second was shocked to see the red liquid dripping down it but disregarded it quickly as he looked at her form on the ground.

Minho gasped as he remembered the red liquid on the tree and realised that that was the exact place where he had hit her head against. He put his fingers on the back of her head and was terrified to find blood on his hands. He looked down at her face and noticed how all the colour had faded, how her lips were grey and crusty. He opened her eyes and saw how they were unfocused. He put his hand to her neck, trying to feel a pulse and screamed when he couldn’t find one. He grabbed her body and held her against himself tightly, as if that would stop her from leaving him forever. His grip was so tight and he cradled her against him as he pleaded for her to open her eyes, to not leave him. He screamed her name, but got no response. He would never get a response from her again. She had finally escaped him, forever.

A.N// Thank you for taking the time out for reading this :)

#stray kids #lee know #stray kids angst #yandere stray kids #lee know imagines #lee know fanfic

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sheeple · 4 years

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The intern | 14: The Monday after

GIFS NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): intern!au / fluff / mild angst Group(s): NCT / Red Velvet Pairing(s): Moon Taeil x fem!reader Summary: The new Elysion Publishings intern is the youngest they ever had. It’s not a problem until she grabs the attention of the IT guy. Warning(s): Age-gap of five years A/n: Look who b a c k [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist]

I rub my eyes as I walk out of my apartment building. I almost didn’t close an eye last night since my body’s buzzing with excitement. I mean, who wouldn’t when you get into your first real relationship.

I suddenly hear the honk of a car and I look up, worried that I walked into the busy morning traffic without looking midst my thinking.

Instead, I see Taeil with his car in front of me with a bright smile. A smile automatically spreads on my face and I walk towards him, to give him a hug.

“Good morning”, I say with a bright smile as I Taeil kisses me on my forehead. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up for work, of course.” He turns around and opens the car door for me to slip in.

I put my backpack at my feet and put on my seatbelt as Taeil jogs over to the other side.

“How did you sleep?”, he asks as we drive away, his eyes scanning the side streets for incoming traffic.

“I didn’t sleep a lot but when I finally closed my eyes, I slept great. You?” I place my elbow on the middle console and lean my head on it while looking towards him.

“I slept like a baby because I was visited by an angel in my dreams.” he wiggles with his eyebrows and I immediately know what he means.

I groan and slap his hand that rests on the middle console. “So cheesy.”

Taeil smirks and grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers, bringing our hands to his lips and placing a soft kiss on my knuckles.

If I saw it by other people, I would have gagged. But for some reason, I don’t mind. Maybe it’s the person who does it or it is because I am growing soft.

We arrive soon after at the parking space of Ely and we hop out of the car, still holding each other's hand as we walk into the lobby.

Before we walk through the security gates stops Taeil us and turn towards me.

“I have to be in the server room so I have to part with you, my sugar drop. What’s on your agenda today?”

I frown and cringe at the stupid nickname he gave me. “First of all, ew. Secondly, at ten I have a call with my teacher and team leader Byun about my evaluation and show him around the department. But I’m free at lunch.”

Taeil smiles. “Great. I’ll see you for lunch between half-past twelve and one?”

I nod and give him a kiss on his cheek before sending him off. “Now go before you’re late.”

He waves one last time before almost bumping into someone and walking away. I shake my head and turn around, scanning my pass and walking towards the elevators.

Suddenly, Johnny and Wendy appear out of nothing and drag me away. They push me into an unoccupied room and sit me down in one of the many chairs.

“Spill”, grins Johnny and leans against the doorframe. So I start to tell about our evening. About the fire, the diner, and the necklace.

“Does that mean..?”, questions Wendy with the biggest smile on her face and I nod shyly, hiding my face behind my hands.

The two of them cheer loudly and high fave each other, jumping up and down. I expected positive feedback but this positive? Never guessed in a million years.

“So did you two...” Johnny wiggles with his eyebrows and I scrunch my nose in disgust.

“Ew, of course not! Who do you think I am?”

Johnny nods. “True. You wouldn’t have─”

Wendy holds up her hand. “Don’t you dare to finish that sentence.” She glares at him before looking at her phone. “Come on, ‘Yong is looking for us.”

When Johnny told Taeyong the news, he flipped. He wouldn’t stop smiling and grinning the whole morning. I also didn’t miss the exchange of money between the two guys.

“I would get 25.000 Won if you guys ended up together after your date”, explains Taeyong with a big fat smirk on his face.

I roll my eyes. Boys will be boys.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around. Team leader Byun smiles at me as he has a clipboard under his arm. “Everything is set up in meeting room 3.”

I quickly grab my laptop and wave goodbye to my friends as Byun and walk towards the meeting room and he turns on the fogging of the glass.

“Are you nervous?”, questions Byun as I set up my laptop to the larger screen.

I hum. “Not really. Well... a bit? If that makes sense. My grade is depending on how well I explain. And of course, how you filled in the form I send you.”

Byun whips out two sheets from his clipboard and places them on the table. “I send them to your teacher and we’ll go through them before the call begins.”

“Okay”, I nod with a sigh, my palms sweaty.

“The first question, the student is professionally informed. Out of an Inadequate, Sufficient, and Outstanding, I gave you an Outstanding.” Mr Byun glances at me and I smile brightly. “After the last review, she began to ask more questions and has been progressing greatly.”

“That was definitely one of my learning points, to not be afraid to ask more question. I try, it’s not always easy.” I scratch the back of my hand, a nervous habit of mine.

Byun smiles proudly. “Two: the student is motivated. Outstanding. Despite moving to the other side of the world and being in a foreign country, you have always been very motivated. When everyone was busy and you didn’t have an assignment, you asked around to help the others.”

Byun nods. “I asked around the department, and they all greatly appreciated it. Especially during Black Friday when everyone had a lot to do.”

I run a hand through my hair, forgetting it is in a low ponytail. “I just... thought it was normal? And I enjoy helping others!”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. Just make sure that nobody could misuse your generosity. Continuing, number three: the student works independently on their tasks. Another Outstanding. Absolutely. When I asked if she finished something, she already had sent it to me or someone else for a quick check. Only thing, please let it know so nobody has to ask for the status.”

Byun chuckles as he sees me nodding. “Yeah, I sometimes can be pretty caught up in work and forget about notifying you.”

“Fourth question: the student is communicative and socially skilled in dealing with both colleagues and customers. Outstanding. Y/n has a very professional attitude and is a full-fledged college within an adult environment.”

"And the last question. The student works focused on their learning goals. Outstanding. As I said earlier, she has been working on asking more questions and it shows that she still is learning every day. And that’s perfectly normal.”

A blush creeps up my cheeks as I can’t handle the number of compliments I have received in ten minutes. “Thank you, Team leader. I greatly appreciate the feedback.”

A content sigh leaves his lips. “It all good. You are a delightful person and pleasant intern.”

I and wipe away a tear harshly. “Stupid tear and overemotional personality”, I grumble as I grab a tissue that Byun holds out for me.

“Oh stop you, otherwise I’m going to cry too”, he snivels and looks up at the ceiling, obviously blinking away some tears. I laugh and blow my nose, wiping my eyes before throwing the tissue in the trash.

With a sigh, he shakes his head. “Okay, the sad moment is over and now we’re going to think happy thoughts. We don’t want your teacher to see us with all red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, do we?”

I laugh and nod, done with the whole sappy stuff.

With a sigh, I take place on one of the tables with Wendy, Johnny, and Taeyong in the company’s cafe. I pull out the sandwich I made this morning from a plastic bag. The three others take place in front of me and I frown.

“What’s wrong with you guys? Why is nobody sitting next to me?” I look at them with my eyebrows furrowed.

“Because lover boy is coming down this way with his friend”, says Taeyong with a grin and I turn around. Taeil meets my eyes and quickens his pace, Sicheng trailing behind him.

Taeil kisses my forehead before sitting down next to me. Sicheng looks at his friend in disgust and reluctantly takes place.

“Hi Sicheng”, I chuckle, ignoring my pouting boyfriend. He gives me a short nod with a smile. “How are you?”

“Baby”, Taeil cuts Sicheng off, fluttering his eyelashes. Johnny and Wendy both gag as Taeyong looks at us disgusted.

I shake my head, unwarping my sandwich from the plastic bag. “You’re too much, Moon Taeil.”

“How went the call with your teacher, by the way?”, asks Taeil with a slight smile on his lips.

“She and Team leader Byun cried”, laughs Wendy and I kick her under the table.

“Was I that bad?” He frowns and rubs my arms, “I’m sorry babe.”

“Oh no, on the contrary! I got amazing feedback, here look.” I give Taeil and Sicheng my feedback. “I cried because of all the compliments and I couldn’t handle it.”

Taeil shakes his head and kisses my temple as he lays an arm over my shoulders. “I’m proud of you for such wonderful marks. This is your final review, right?”

I nod while taking a bite out of my sandwich. “Yup, it’s only a couple more weeks, my break not counting, before I am finished here and need to go home.”

With me acknowledging that I have to go home, a topic we all have been ignoring for the longest of time, the mood drops.

“When are you... leaving”, asks Sicheng softly.

“Eighteenth of January is my last day, but I can stretch my departure until the week of the 25th.” I let out a sigh. The idea of my leaving everyone to go back to school... sounds awful. But it’s not like I have a choice. It’s my exam year so I have to go back.

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crutchie-with-a-y · 3 years

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hey yo i love your stuff so much, i really liked your sarah and jack stuff, so i was wondering if you could do a modern one?? super angsty lol i'm in a mood

Thank You for the request, I’m so happy you like my writing! This isn’t as angsty as I would like, but I wanted to get you a response ASAP! Hope you enjoy!

Jack Kelly hadn't slept in two days. He didn't mean to, it just sort of happened. The first night he'd stayed up watching Disney movies with his girlfriend Sarah. The second night, well, he'd just been too stressed to sleep. Sarah had left his house slightly annoyed with him after he accidentally spilled a cup of coffee on her sweater. It was the pink one with Ms. Piggy on it, her favorite. And she didn't leave because of the dark brown stain, she was already getting ready to leave anyway, she had to go home and get her uniform for work in a few hours. She didn't actually seem that upset over it anyway. Or maybe she did? No, if she was she would have told him. Sarah was always so good at communicating. But maybe he made her really, REALLY mad, and she was too considerate to go off on him. But she could probably get the stain out anyway why would she be that mad? Either way, Jack Kelly had been overthinking the situation for the past 24 hours because of the exchange they'd had while she was leaving.

"Call me when you're off work, maybe I can get you pizza or something to make up for the sweater?" Jack had said, holding open the door for her.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever," Sarah had sighed as she stepped out the door.

But she had never called. And when Jack called her two hours after the latest she'd ever worked, she didn't pick up. And when she didn't respond for three more hours, Jack had called again, apologizing profusely. No response. He had texted a few times. Nothing. At about two am, Jack had tossed his phone behind the couch and given up, turning on the news and picking up his sketch pad. It was about 6 am, and a detailed portrait of Sarah giggling adorably in her Ms. Piggy sweater had found its way onto his page. He'd drawn it from memory, the image of her leaning against him with that cute smile on her face as Olaf sang about getting gorgeously tan in summer. He smiled at it, even in smudged granite, she was so pretty. And so mad at him, he thought, his eyes falling to Ms. Piggy's face on her sweater. God, how could he be so stupid? He let his forehead fall forward, resting against the paper with a sigh.

"JACK! JACK OPEN THE DOOR!" Jack woke up to a pounding at his door three hours later. He shot up. Sarah?

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JACK GET OFF YOUR MOODY BULLSHIT AND OPEN UP!" Nope, Katherine. He scrambled towards the door, wondering what the cause was of such alarm. He pulled it open to see Katherine and Elmer staring at him with frantic looks.

"Why the FUCK haven't you responded to any of our messages?'" Katherine stuck her face in his.

"We've been trying to reach you for hours!" Elmer shook his phone in the air.

"I haven't been on my phone-"

"Ohhhh, he hasn't been on his phooooone." Katherine rolled his eyes.

"Kath, shut up," Elmer said and turned back to Jack. "C'mon, bro, we gotta go."

"Go? Go where?" Jack had dashed back into his living room to retrieve his phone.

"The hospital! Let's go." Katherine waved him back towards them. Jack froze.

"The hospital? W-why would we go there?" Katherine and Elmer looked at each other before turning back to him with a softer look. He felt his stomach drop.

"Jack," Elmer said. "Sarah was in a car accident last night."

"Oh my god, oh my god." Jack was aggressively swiping through his missed messages, tears brimming in his eyes.

"Jack it's going to be okay, the lady from the hospital said-"

"I don't CARE what the lady from the hospital said," Jack interrupted Katherine as they sped towards the hospital in her car. "My girlfriend was in a CAR ACCIDENT and I couldn't even be bothered to pick up my phone! Oh my god."

"Jack, it's alright, she's going to be okay." Elmer turned around in the passenger seat to try and calm him down.

"And why haven't you two been to see her?" Jack lashed out, upset at everything and everyone.

"We were on a road trip to Scarsdale visiting Katherine's Aunt when we got the call, four hours away. They said you were listed as her emergency contact but they couldn't reach you." Elmer's response only upset Jack even more, and he clenched his head in his hands as hot tears fell down his face.

"Jack, it's okay," Katherine looked at him in the review mirror as she turned the steering wheel. "We're here." Jack shot out of the car before Katherine could pull into a parking spot, almost getting hit by a gray sedan in the process. The car honked loudly, but he kept running, speeding through the revolving doors and up to the front desk as fast as his legs could take him. He didn't slow down fast enough, slamming into the front edge of the desk.

"I need the room of a...Sarah Jacobs," Jack said, holding his stomach as he tried to catch his breath. A middle-aged man with a black beard and thick-framed glasses looked up at him and then down at his computer.

"Uhhh, Yes, Ms. Jacob's in room 47, right down that way," The man pointed to his left. "May I ask who is visiting?"

"Jack Kelly," Jack said, pushing off the desk in the direction the man had pointed.

"Wait, you'll need this!" Jack turned around as the man tossed him a laminated visitor's pass on a bright yellow lanyard.

"Thanks," Jack pulled it over his neck as he sprinted back down the hall, narrowly avoiding nurses pushing carts and other visitors. "Forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty-" Jack stumbled backward in shock as he reached his girlfriend's room, tears brimming again in his eyes. Hanging on the door handle on a hangar with a plastic cover over it was the Ms. Piggy sweatshirt. And covering the coffee was a dark red bloodstain.

Right when Jack thought he would pass out, the door swung open as a nurse exited the room, laughing to someone over her shoulder. She turned her head and smiled warmly when she saw him.

"Oh! Are you Mr. Kelly?"

"Jack!" From behind her, a voice called Jack back down to earth. Jack darted past the nurse and into the room.

Sarah lay propped up in a bed against bright white pillows and bright white sheets. Her right leg was in a cast and a black brace gripped her hand. Her hospital gown drooped slightly off her shoulder to show a strip of gauze in the center of her chest.

"Jack! Jack, where were you? I was so w-" Jack walked right up to her bedside and delicately but passionately kissed her, cutting her off.

"I'm so sorry," He said softly, rubbing a cut he had noticed on her lip. "Are you alright?"

"Ah, yes, mmhmm," Sarah blinked. "Yeah, I'm fine. But what the hell happened to you? The nurse said you hadn't answered any calls. "

"Well, I-" Jack looked at his feet. He was embarrassed. And Sarah could tell.

"What?" She squinted at him with a smirk.

"I just, ah," He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. "You didn't call me or respond to any of my messages, so I figured you were still mad."

"Mad? What would I be mad about?" Sarah tried to remember the day before, and suddenly she raised her eyebrows at me. "No, Jack. I know you didn't..."

"I don't know, it was your favorite-"

"Oh for fucks sake, Jack."

"It was a really big stain!"

"Do you hear yourself?" Sarah laughed exasperatedly. "You are trying to justify to me why I would be mad at you for something as stupid as spilling coffee on my sweater." Jack scrunched up his nose.

"Well, when you put it like that...."

"It's quite dumb, correct." She crossed her arms and huffed dramatically. They stared at each other for a minute before bursting out in loud, silly laughter.

"Can I get you a new sweater?" Jack chuckled as he pulled Sarah into his chest, who giggled as she nodded. And there, at that moment, she looked exactly how he had pictured her in her sweater watching Frozen. Exactly as he had drawn her. "And until Amazon delivers that sweater," Jack pulled back and reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper, "I hope this can make up for it." He handed Sarah the sketch and she marveled at it, the intense detail, shading, and, of course, how realistic of a Ms. Piggy he had a drawn. She looked back at him.

"Only if you at least attempt to stop overthinking everything." Jack grinned at her.

"Deal," He said, leaning down and pressing a loving kiss onto her lips.

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deans-mind-palace · 4 years

Text

Suspirium (Pt.6)

Pairing: Prof!Sam x Reader

Summary: You’re in your last year of your Classics and Mordern Languages studies and you’re majoring in Latin and English. Then you get assigned to a different Latin teacher. And damn, he loves his subject. Too bad that he’s also hot. What is just a childish crush soon develops into something way more complicated.

Word Count: 1,748

Warnings: Fluff and not-so-slowburn-anymore

Author’s Note: Chapter 6. Just had a look at my notes. If I want to get that all into twelve chaps they’ll definitely have to be longer... We’ll see...

Like always, my tag lists for Sam (thereby also for this story) are OPEN

Or you catch up here: Suspirium - Masterlist

"Sorry, I can't come to Ash's housewarming party," you declared when you sat with your tray across from Brooks and next to Maddie. You stole some fries from Brooks while continuing your explanation. "I have an appointment with Professor Winchester later today." Brooks and Maddie moaned at the same time. "Since you took this job as teaching assistant, you've hardly had time for us." Maddie complained and your heart grew heavy. It wasn't because you felt bad about spending so little time with your friends, but because you realized you didn't want to spend any time with them at all when you could be sitting on the green sofa at Sam's office at the same time. "Guys, hey! That's not even true. Only Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. The other four days of the week are all yours." You smiled at your friends. Brooks watched you prudently, but Maddie changed the subject and blabbed on happily. Brooks' eyes never left you.

"Hey, Sam." you greeted the young man and threw a smile at him as soon as you closed the door to his office behind you. He responded immediately. "Hey." As usual, you took your place on his couch. The springs squeaked under your weight as it was an older model, but Sam still had it from his student days. He'd told you how he stole it with his brother from a dumpster and hauled it all the way back to the dorm with him. He just couldn't get rid of it after that.

"What's on for today?" you asked and Sam lifted his eyes from some papers he was grading. Your eyes fell on your manuscript, which was on his desk. Colorful sticky notes stuck out between the pages. "It would be nice if you could help me grade some of the freshmen's papers today. I would also need a PowerPoint presentation. I have sent you the materials by e-mail. Maybe you could copy a stack of handouts? Only if that's all right." You laughed. "Sam. I'm your teaching assistant, that's what I do." Sam nodded in relief and a smile spread from his lips.

The rain pattered against the windows and poured down the glass in tiny trickles. The sky outside the window was grey. You worked side by side in silence for some time. You on the sofa,Sam at his desk. You had already copied the handouts and were now busy designing the slides of your presentation. Meanwhile, Sam went over some of the homework with a red pencil and scribbled notes on the edge of the paper in his small, neat handwriting. Soon he had finished the first stack and put the pen aside. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. You looked up in surprise. "Are you all right?" "Hm?" he asked. "ls everything all right?" "Oh, yes yes. How's the presentation going?" he asked. He stood up in one motion. He suppressed a yawn, stretched, and his back popped loudly. Sam grimaced. Then he crossed the room and bent over you to get a look at your laptop. His arms were resting on the back of the sofa, left and right of your shoulders. The soft filling was seeping out under the man's weight and his aftershave was getting up your nose. His chin hovered just inches above your hair and brown streaks fell into his face.

"You look tired, Sam," you said, looking anxiously at your professor. Sam turned his head and you looked into each other's eyes. Your noses were just a little bit apart. He smiled tired. If you'd just stretch a little, you could - "Just a little exhausted, that's all." You felt sorry for him when you saw the bags under his eyes. The rain was pattering against the glass in a monotonous melody. The sound slowly lulled you in. "How about we stop for today and start over some other time? I'll take the essays home and correct them there and you go home and rest." Sam seemed to wrestle with himself, rubbing his forehead with one hand. Then he shook his head. "No. I promised to go over the first few pages of your manuscript with you. I don't want to break my part of the bargain." That statement put a smile on your face. In a burst of courage, you reached behind you with your hand and put it on Sam's. He didn't pull it away.

"It's all right, Sammy," you replied, biting your tongue as the nickname slipped from your lips. Actually, you only called him that in your mind. "Sammy, huh? Only Dean calls me that." He smiled. Dean was his brother. You knew that much now. He had a picture of himself and his brother in a drawer of his desk. "I - um" Shit, that was embarrassing. "Sorry, Sam - I didn't mean to -" But Sam interrupted your rambling. "No, no, it's okay. Sammy's okay." He smiled warmly at you. But even the smile couldn't take the weariness out of his eyes. "So how about it? Why don't we just take some time and go over my manuscript sometime? It doesn't have to be today." You were still very close, and your neck started to hurt from looking up all the time. Sam was taller than you and you always had to look up anyway, but you liked it. You loved his height. You wondered if he was that big everywhere. You blushed from your own thoughts. What was wrong with you? Sam looked at you questioningly and you were glad he couldn't read your mind. "Let's do it this way. Do you have any plans for Sunday? I mean, Sunday's probably stupid because you're studying or partying or dating your boyfriend or-" "Sam, I don't have boyfriend." Did you remind him, albeit a little too quickly, to pause for a moment, confused. "Sunday's okay," you hurriedly declared. Sam nodded. "I'll give you my number anyway, in case something comes up." Then he fell silent. "I'd forgotten the department's not even open on Sunday." Sam suddenly remembered. "But if it's not inconvenient, we can go over the manuscript at my place and maybe order Chinese food for the nerves." "Sounds like a good plan. I'm in." Sam scribbled his number on a piece of paper and handed it to you.

"All right, I'll go now." You were gonna say goodbye and pack your bag. Sam took one look out the window. There were still big drops running down the windows. "Did you come by car?" Sam asked you. "No, I walked." Sam immediately grabbed his car keys. "Come on, I'll give you a ride." You tried to refuse. "No, it's okay. I can walk. It's not that far." "Y/N, I'm definitely not gonna let you walk home in this weather." Sam replied, looking at you seriously. "Think of it as reparations." he asked you. You sighed and admitted defeat because you felt how important it was to him. "Very well." He took your bag with a smile and grabbed his leather jacket off the chair. "Let's go."

Your spirits stopped you as soon as you were under a ledge outside the building. The rain had gotten heavier again and the drains of the street overflowed. Streams of water started flowing over the road. Cars pushed themselves over the asphalt in slow queues and stirred up the water again. "I guess we'll have to run." Sam snorted at your comment. "By the time we get through there, we'll have had three showers. Let's take my jacket." He spread his jacket over his head, telling you to come closer. He held his jacket over both of you and you ran. The water splashed under your feet as you ran across the parking lot.

In a hurry, Sam unlocked the car. You hopped in. Your hair dripped down your faces and then you looked at each other. The moment your eyes met, you burst out laughing. His eyes sparkled in the dim, gray daylight that slowly faded. They crinkled at the corners when he laughed and dimples appeared on his cheeks.

Sam started the car and the wiper moved across the windscreen. In the rain the headlights of oncoming cars were blurred, the rain pattered on the roof of the car and otherwise there was a pleasant silence. Sam stopped at a traffic light and looked over at you. As soon as your eyes met, you burst out laughing again. Suddenly you fell silent and looked at each other intensely. You didn't know who started it, but suddenly you came closer and closer. Sam's eyes left yours and moved to your lips. Only a few seconds before your lips met, the sound of honking tore you away from your magic moment. As suddenly as the moment had come, it vanished. Sam cleared his throat and you looked ahead in surprise to see that the light had turned green.

Neither of you said anything until Sam arrived at the address you had given him. He turned off the engine and for a moment there was complete silence. Nothing but the rain and your breathing could be heard. Your heart was pounding hard and you were afraid he could hear it.

"Well... here we are," Sam muttered, avoiding your gaze. "Hmm. This is it," you replied, but made no move. "Thanks for the ride, Sam." You thanked him. "No problem." There you go again. "Well, I'll be off." You didn't know what you were waiting for, so you unbuckled your seat belt. "Get home safe, Sam." The rain had turned into a downpour, and you were worried about Sam. " Text me when you get home." That might seem strange, but it was important for you to know he got home safe. You opened the door of the car to get out, when Sam's hand suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. With a jerk, you landed back in the seat. Even before you could open your mouth to ask what was going on, Sam's lips pressed against yours. They moved softly against yours and you sighed comfortably into the kiss. The taste of coffee, chocolate and mint blended into a mixture you couldn't resist. Gently, Sam pulled you closer, while the kiss gained fire. Your hands buried themselves in his hair and he stroked your cheek while his other hand rested on your waist. Sam's tongue brushed across your lips and you let him in. He teased you and you smiled into the kiss. His soft lips gently caressed yours.

None of you noticed at that moment how your phone lit up because a new message had arrived.

Adam: We need to talk.

Wanna get tagged for recent updates on this story? Head to my bio and add yourself to my Sam taglist or drop an ask in.

Sam Tags: @ashthefirefox @rintheemolion @fortheentries @vexhye @traceyaudette @zeppette @thewintersoldierswife @outofnowhere82 @mimzy1994 @myopiamystical

#sam x reader #sam winchester #sam x y/n #sam x you #professor!sam #professor!au #jared padalecki #jared x reader #spn fanfic series #spn #supernatural #suspirium #spnfamily #spn fandom #spn fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural cast

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Échappé / Chapter 1 (Branjie) - DenDenMonMon

Échappé: Slipping movement in which a dancer starts in a closed position and ends in an opened one.

For: svpermodel

A/N:

Hi. Hello. Welcome!

So I have never written Branjie before, please, be patient since this is my first attempt. This was a crazy idea that a friend started ranting about on Twitter. I couldn’t help myself and just HAD to bring it to life. Even when I did significant research on them, there’s a huge chance you are about to read a version of Branjie that exists only in my head, tweaked a little by said friend.

Also, I’m Trixya trash, through and through, so expect a lot of that in the background.

Enjoy!

AO3 Link

Échappé

Chapter one

“You know, you can just admit that we are lost.” Brooke laughed dryly from the backseat. Her big sunglasses slid down the bridge of her nose slightly. She pushed them back into place with a smile pasted on her lips.

Ben looked at her through the rear view mirror, the single curl bouncing on his forehead to the movement. He had his lips twisted to the side in a cheeky grin, gladly welcoming the friendly banter.

“If you must know, I am very sure of where we are. I just need to find a street that actually goes down.”

Brooke didn’t bother in replying. Her eyes rolled on their own, even when they were hidden behind the black shades. She changed her crossed legs, switching to left over right, and looked out the window.

She liked Los Angeles, she liked it a lot. Sure, she used to live in, probably, the biggest metropolis in the country, but this wasn’t her calm and relaxed Canada. Downton LA was ugly, dirty, dangerous, and she loved every bit of it. That was the whole charm about it. She could stare at those old buildings all day. They seemed to belong in so many different eras and times, yet, they coexisted in harmony, creating this mix-match look that somehow fit perfectly together. The sidewalks were always crowded with people from all over the world, in all these different colors and shapes, and speaking so many languages. They were always walking fast and never waiting for the red hand to change to cross the street.

The car finally went left. There were honking sounds following the movement, and Brooke was sure that her driver had taken an unauthorized turn.

She held onto the handle on the door with a smile, amused by the way her body slid on the seat. The smile stayed there. Even when Ben kept mumbling complaints under his breath, Brooke couldn’t help but smile. She was happy. She had traveled the world and eaten the most amazing food; she had lived in exotic places and fallen in love with wildly interesting people, but she had never felt so content in her life. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought, at the very happy thought.

Brooke Lynn Hytes had just turned thirty, and her life was right where she wanted it to be. It hadn’t been easy, but she wouldn’t change a single thing about it. In a way, she liked how she had to fight for what she wanted, it gave her a certain perspective on life she could only obtain through struggle. She celebrated every victory and embraced every failure. Learned and grew from every experience, appreciated every achievement, and made sure to keep a quick and smart sense of humor; which her mom had taught her. Mom’s are always right after all.

She didn’t like to consider herself a lucky person. Everything Brooke had, she had worked for it. Nothing had been given to her for free, and opportunities had most definitely never simply fallen into her lap. When it came to her family, though, she knew that God, or the universe, or merely luck, had worked in her favor, landing her in the most amazing environment for any kid to grow up in. She, and all of her siblings, were always given the chance to be free, express themselves, go after their goals and trust their instincts. That’s how she managed to follow her passion and turn the life she dreamed about into a reality.

Being a ballerina had always been her aspiration. There was a world of a difference between her current self and that dreamy girl - the girl who would take advantage of any flat surface to try and pull dance moves she had just seen on TV. Brooke remembered being in her shared bedroom, pushing her sister’s stuff to the side so she could have more space to practice. Her legs were weak and untrained.

She couldn’t help but touch her toned thigh through the fabric of her skirt. Her body had truly come a long way.

As much as her parents wanted to help her to pursue that dream, money had been tight, and dance academies have never been cheap.

Brooke had fond memories of small dance groups she went to after class, at a tiny community center across from the school. For only a few bucks a week, she could dance with her friends for an hour per day, guided by an overly-enthusiastic Zumba instructor who really liked children. Those were enough credentials for the director of the place, who allowed her to teach. Brooke had no complaints, though. Those were her favorite dance years, before she was ‘discovered’ - when dancing was all about having fun, when dancing wasn’t a career. She had to admit, it was a job she loved, but a job nonetheless.

On the street, a mother angrily pulled her child by the arm. The girl seemed to walk a little too slow for the mom’s taste. Blonde curls created a jumping curtain around the girl’s face, who deliberately refused to move faster. Brooke saw so much of herself in the small child, the stubborn resemblance making her chuckle in her seat.

“See? Told you I knew where we were,” Ben said triumphantly. His words only meant he had finally found the right route again. He was a very talkative man, and just then did Brooke realize he had been quiet for a long time, probably trying to figure out his away around that part of the city.

The thought brought a new question to her mind. “DeLa, where are we? Is this still downtown?”

Her eyes once again met Ben’s through the mirror, what looked almost like an apologetic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, but according to this thing…” His fingers tapped on the GPS integrated in the dashboard. “We only need to go a few blocks down, enter the ten, and we’ll be on our merry way.” The silly smile was obnoxious, mainly because it was genuine. Brooke couldn’t stand the idea of someone being so happy all the time, but leave it to BenDeLaCreme to be able to pull it off.

Once he’d gotten some sense of direction, Ben went back to his usual self, giving random information he knew about the buildings around them, and how the government’s money only went to certain parts of the city, leaving this side completely forgotten.

After taking a right turn, the street grew smaller, the four lines merging into one and slowing them down.

Brooke didn’t welcome the traffic very well. The day was hot and she could feel her shirt sticking to her back. She ran a hand around her ear, pushing nonexistent loose strands back into place. Her blonde hair was perfectly tied in a bun at the back of her head, just like a prima ballerina should always wear it. Not a strand fell out of place, ever, she was always careful about that. Sitting in a car for so long, with nothing to do but entertain Ben’s pointless conversation, forced her hands to play with imaginary hair.

Suddenly, her eyes were pulled to the scene taking place across the street, her back straightened and her jaw dropped dramatically. She took the round sunglasses away from her face, just to have a clear view of what was happening in the corner of the park.

Her flat hand hit the front seat a few times with more force than she intended. “Ben, pull over.”

“What, now? Where? Why?”

“Oh, God, just do it!”

The cars around them were not moving much, traffic finally doing some good for them. Ben easily moved out of the way and found a spot to parallel park. The tires of the SUV hadn’t fully stopped when Brooke was opening her door and stepping down.

Her high heels hitting the pavement were barely audible above the loud music and inevitable sounds of children playing around her. She had to step on grass but she didn’t even care, she kept going and going, trying to balance the best she could in those shoes, until she reached her destination.

A group of young girls had a speaker perched on a bench. The round tube shined bright colors that immediately got drowned by the sunrays. Brooke didn’t recognize the music, but she liked the Latin flavor it had. Her mind was instantly thinking of intricate ballroom dances that could be performed to that song. Nonetheless, the girls dancing to it had a very different idea. Their hips moved to a synchronized rhythm, even when they were clearly freestyling. Each had their own take on the song, the beats awakening unique moves for each of their limbs but, at the same time, they clearly worked together. They looked like a perfectly structured dance team.

The song ended and the five girls giggled happily. They hugged and shared high-fives, proud of the creation they had just given life to.

She didn’t even think about it, Brooke clapped her hands slowly but loudly. She knew the smile on her face, open-mouthed and all teeth, probably looked stupid, but she wouldn’t do anything to hide it. What she had just witnessed wasn’t like anything she had ever seen in her life before. The way those girls had danced, so effortlessly, yet so accurate in technique, made her feel a certain warmth in her stomach she couldn’t really identify. She had come alive by their little performance, her heart was still beating to the rhythm of the song she didn’t even know.

All eyes went to her. The girls stopped their celebration and looked up at her. Brooke didn’t know, but they were not particularly used to see tall ladies in black pencil skirts, fancy white shirts, and sky-high stilettos. They stared at her with big questioning eyes as they lined up a few steps away from her.

“Hi!” She finally let out. It was supposed to be kind and welcoming, trying to ease the tension, but excitement made her almost yell the word at them. “You guys are so good! Are you part of a dance group?”

They looked among each other, until one of them nodded her head. If someone had instructed these girls not to talk to strangers, they should be really proud right now.

In yet another attempt to try and be friendly, Brooke bent her knees and placed her hands on her thighs, trying, unsuccessfully, to be at their eye level. She ended up sitting on her heels instead.

“You really are amazing! I wish I could dance like you, would you teach me?” Her ears filled with the innocent sound of girly giggles. Her smile only grew wider.

One of the girls, who Brooke had right away recognized as the leader, eyed her from the side. Her stare was analytical, scanning her up and down, and actually pondering if she could be taught. “I don’t think you could do it,” was her professional opinion.

Brooke’s jaw was somewhere near the floor, partly in exaggeration to entertain the children, but mostly shocked at the unfiltered comment of the girl. She couldn’t be more than ten years old and yet she carried herself like a fully grown adult. Her clothes were colorful and her frizzy hair threatened to break out of the braid adorning the side of her head. Her skin was dark and, mixed with the slightly detectable accent, Brooke deduced she at least had some Latin descendance. No wonder she had no issue speaking her mind.

Just when she was about to ask them who was their teacher, the question answered itself. They all heard a voice yelling from behind them. The girls froze for a moment, understanding the admonishing words barked at them in Spanish.

Then came a vision in red, black and denim shorts.

“Who is you and what the fuck you doing talking to my babies?”

Brooke’s eyes widened. She crossed her arms on top of her chest with a stern look on her face. “Excuse me, maybe you shouldn’t curse in front of the children.” Her statement came out more like a question, almost asking if the girl standing in front of her understood the damage.

There was a thin braid at the top of the girl’s head, adorned with rhinestones along the way; the rest of her hair went all the way down to her waist in natural waves. The long red curls bounced as she shook her head. “Huh? You serious, girl? How I talk is none of your business. Thank you very much. Plus, they know better than to repeat those words, right, girls? Or you wanna get’cha little asses whooped?”

They all shook their heads, amused smiles spread across their faces, indicating that the words directed to them meant no harm.

Honestly, there was something intimidating about the young woman standing in front of her. Brooke had to admit as much. It wasn’t her size, she was tiny, but her presence was grand. She wore high heel boots that went all the way up to her thighs, still a long distance from where her tiny shorts ended; and that black crop top hid barely enough of her chest. Her silver hoop earrings, that pretty much rested on her shoulders, caught the sun, blinding Brooke for a moment, and making her realize she had done nothing but stare at her for too long.

“Ya done?” The girl asked, her long lashes blinking rapidly. “You need me to turn around or somethin’?”

That was enough to fully snap Brooke out of her observations. She shook her head to physically exist that weird daze. “I apologize. Hello, I’m Brooke, Brooke Lynn Hytes.” She smiled and extended her hand, trying to be as cordial as possible.

The laugh that followed her words, she hadn’t expected. “What kind of name is that? You from New York?”

“I’m from Toronto,” Brooke offered, completely aware of the other girl’s chain of thoughts, and not falling for it. She was too used to be bullied by the unintended pun placed on her name, she had learned a rather delicate way to deal with it.

“Your parents wanted to live there or some shit? What’s the deal with that, bitch?”

That last word had thrown her off guard. Brooke was used to hearing it among her teammates, it was a term of endearment, usually the start of fun banter. Having it fall from the lips of a stranger made her feel uneasy, even when the few letters carried no harm in her direction. She retracted her hand, letting it land awkwardly on her hip.

“Yeah, okay, listen, child, don’t go all serious on me, okay? It was a stupid joke, alright? No offense to mommy and daddy and their dream vacation spot. I’m Vanessa,” she said as she closed the gap between them, grabbing Brooke’s hand without permission and shaking it at an unusual speed. “Nice to meet you, Brooke.”

Her shoulders squared up. Brooke was a strong, independent, successful woman, she was always cool and collected. There was no plausible explanation as to why this young woman, with caramel skin glistening in the harsh sun, was making her feel so… insecure?

Vanessa let go of Brooke’s hand, theatrically placing it back against her hip. “Alright, Imma ask you one more time. Are you, like, some kind of fancy-ass predator here to steal my girls and sell them to slavery, or…?”

“What?! No!” Brooke replied shocked, her voice tinted with indignation. She brought both her hands up to her hips, stretching her back and neck to at least feel some leverage, even if it was just her height. “Just, I saw the kids dancing and was taken away by their talent.” She craned her neck to look behind Vanessa, where the girls were patiently waiting for the grown-ups to be done speaking. “Are they your students?”

“Yeah.” Vanessa smiled proudly, directing her attention to them for a moment. “And they’re late for their stretching class!” Her high heeled boot was raised, pretending to send a kick their way, even though they were too far behind. “You better drag ya little asses inside before Miss Yvie comes and fucking skin you alive or some weird shit like that. You know she’s into all that freaky stuff.”

The girls ran in playful delight. Brooke followed them with her eyes until they reached a small building in the middle of the park. It looked familiar, she had never been on that part of the city, yet she felt like the construction was something she had visited before.

“Is that… your community center?”

Suddenly, Vanessa’s eyes seemed to light up. “Oh, shit! You are that-that–” her hand flailed in front of her as her brain tried to find the right noun, coming out empty. “The lady that’s supposed to give us the money, right?! The government help we applied for!”

Before Brooke could reply, before she could deny the title just given to her, Vanessa was stomping her way back into the building, throwing words into the air that Brooke didn’t catch. Her strides were short but powerful. The red and black plaid shirt that covered her bottom bounced to the rhythm of her hips in a hypnotizing way.

“Well, c’mon!”

It took Vanessa to yell over her shoulder to take Brooke out of her trance. She walked with fast steps behind her, unsuccessfully trying to catch up. She looked down, unable to stop herself from comparing her light steps against the forceful ones of the powerhouse in front of her. Of course, Brooke had to remind herself that she was a ballerina. She had been taught her entire life to be graceful. Feet should not make a sound when hitting the ground, that was one of the primary rules. So, she decided to stay true to her learnings and slowed down the pace, leaving Vanessa to stand by the front door for a few more seconds, waiting for her to reach it.

The first thing Brooke spotted when she walked in was a big sign next to the front desk. It read ‘We can save the center!’ in big blue letters against white background. It had a thermometer drawn on one side. The marks on it were set in intervals of five thousand, going from zero to fifty, and it had a big dollar sign at the top. Red marker covered the bottom, barely reaching the number ten.

Behind the desk was a blonde girl with big hair, overdrawn lips, extremely pink cheeks, and way too much mascara on her heavy lashes. Her complete attention was set on the phone in her hand as she popped pink bubbles of gum.

“This is Trixie,” Vanessa informed Brooke as they walked by her. “She helps with the makeup. I have no idea what she’s doing here right now. Don’t pay attention to her, she won’t pay attention to you, anyways.”

In response, the girl lifted her middle finger, but didn’t look up from her phone.

Vanessa took her around the place, showing Brooke the small indoor basketball court, and the few craft rooms. She mentioned a pool at the back but that was being cleaned, so it was better not to see it now. They walked through a small gym, where generic work out equipment had been placed. Vanessa explained someone had built them from scratch using metallic waste from the construction site where he used to work.

Music could be heard when they reached the back of the place. Those were the multipurpose rooms. They used them to teach yoga, zumba, karate, and modern dance; which was Vanessa’s class. They stopped by the room with the loud music flowing. There were around twenty girls in there –including the ones she had seen at the park– each supporting themselves on their hands and bare feet, forming an arch with their backs. A thin young woman, with limbs that seemed to go on forever, and skin as smooth and rich as milk chocolate, corrected the girls and helped them place their backs in the right position.

The tour ended back at the front desk. “See? Don’t tell me it ain’t cute. This is such an important place for the community,” Vanessa spoke with such enthusiasm it was contagious. “Grandmas come knit while the kids play basketball or dance their booties off. This is not a nice neighborhood, you see? So we need good things. This is a really good thing and we would like to keep it. If you could, please, not sell it to those big companies that only care about shit like parking space, that would, you know, really help us a lot.”

Brooke blinked a couple of times, she had completely forgotten about the misunderstanding. She had been so wrapped up in the way Vanessa talked about the place, making her fall in love with it right from the start, that she never found a moment to clarify who she was. Learning that they could lose it broke her heart. And then she had to think of an easy way to let them know she was not the salvation they had been expecting… or maybe she was?

Her hand landed on the desk, the other one found its rightful place on her hip. “Umm, I don’t know how to say this, but… I can’t make the government help you.”

Vanessa looked around, her weight shifting from one foot to the other in clear annoyance. “I knew it! This fucking administration doesn’t give a shit about–”

Brooke lifted her hand, making Vanessa’s rant die on her lips. “But only because I don’t work for the government like you thought.”

“Ha!” A scream-like laugh came from behind them. “She’s got you, V!” Trixie said before getting up and walking away, not willing to waste her time on them anymore.

Vanessa’s jaw hung low in surprise. “Then why the fuck you made me give you a goddamn tour of the place?”

“I didn’t–” Brooke was unable to answer, Vanessa’s anger filling up the space around them.

“You showed here with all you-your big money shoes and executive clothes, looking all cah-ching, cah-ching, and you can’t even help us!”

Brooke was reaching the end of her patience. The palm of her hand landed loudly against the desk, regaining Vanessa’s attention. “Listen here. I never said I couldn’t help you, okay? If you could stop for one minute and pay attention. I direct a dance company–”

“Oh, Mary! You are fuckin’ competition, aren’t you? You are here to steal our moves! Nah ah. No, ma’am. Not on my watch, Momma. You better get going.” Vanessa’s index finger pointed towards the door, her arm fully extended, and her face showing nothing but fury.

Instead of exiting, Brooke took a few steps closer, towering her. The heat radiating from Vanessa’s body was tickling her skin. “I could help you,” she said slowly and carefully. “My company can make a generous donation so you can save this place.”

Vanessa didn’t even flinch, her feet hit the ground one at the time, her jaw was clenched, and her stare pierced right into Brooke’s soul. “We are not a charity. We don’t need no free money. Go, now.” The words came out low but full of force.

Brooke was not going to accept being treated like that. She looked up at the thermometer sign, spotting a date for the first time in the top left corner.

“See you in two months. I’ll love to see the demolition of this place.”

And, with that, she walked out the door, not even bothering to look back to see Vanessa’s reaction. The girl had just gotten on her bad side, and there was no turning back.

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading and giving this story a chance, please don’t forget to let me know what you think.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #yvie oddly #trixie mattel #lesbian au #dance au #echappe #dendenmonmon #submission #bendelacreme

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lovelyrocker · 5 years

Text

~RPF ~Warnings - None ~ Jensen, Jared, Lexi(OFC), Alan Ackles ~Jared x Lexi(Eventually) ~Word Count 3,327

Alexia stared out of the window of the beige luxury car, her head leaning against the door. She ignored the sounds of honking car horns in the hot Texas heat of late July. Her earphones blared classic rock and 90’s punk music as she sat there in her grunge tank top, ripped jeans, dark eye makeup and raven hair, pulled back into a messy bun.

“This isn’t a punishment, Lexi.” Her father, Alan, spoke as she rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that afternoon.

“Oh, come on!” She gawked at him. “Does this really require shipping me across the country?”

“Alexia Ann Ackles, I am not shipping you anywhere.” He stated in a stern tone. “Brookston is a very prestigious preparatory academy. You will be challenged there. You won’t get bored nearly as easily. This will be good for you.”

“Did, did you hear yourself just there?” Lexi spoke pointing a finger “Prep school. Do I look like the prep school type?” She went on gesturing to her appearance with red and black manicured fingernails. “You know maybe this is a mistake. I’ve been known to be irrational at times.”

“Lexi, just try it for a semester or two, then we’ll see what happens.” He went on sliding easily through the afternoon traffic.

“At least its with Jay.” She mumbled with a shoulder shrug.

“That’s a positive right there.” He waved his hand again. “All that quality time with him. I know how much you miss him when he is in Vancouver.” Placing his hand back on the steering wheel he exhaled.

Today, fifteen year old Alexia Ann Ackles, Lexi as she preferred, a nickname given to her by her big brother, Jensen, was making the move from Dallas Texas to Vancouver Canada to live with her big brother. The already high school senior was in advanced level classes and nearly three years ahead of her peers. Her parents, Alan and Donna,felt that she needed a challenge. Over the past year Lexi had gotten into minor trouble and, as Donna put it “got mixed in with the wrong crowd.” Her parents felt that she needed a change, something different.

Due to encouragement a few months prior, Lexi applied to a very prestigious prep school in Vancouver. Brookston Academy was known as one of the toughest schools to get into in Vancouver. When Lexi got her acceptance letter Alan and Donna were filled with such pride.

“I don’t get it.” Alan chided. “A month ago you were over the moon with excitement about getting accepted. What changed?”

Lexi exhaled loudly. “It’s not that I DON’T want to go, it’s just-”

“You’re scared.” Alan interrupted with a knowing expression. “I get that, honey. You have barely ever left Texas. It’s normal. But this is a good idea. It will broaden your horizons and give you life experience that kids your age don’t get.”

“I know, dad. It’s the across the continent thing that freaks me out just a bit.” Her gaze cast down to her feet once more.

“Kiddo, what does your gut tell you?” He asked with a side glance.

“That I would be stupid not to do this.”

“Well, there you go.” He commented knowingly. “What do I always tell you, your brothers and your sister?”

“If you don’t try then you can’t complain.”

“Exactly!”

Lexi shook her head and couldn’t help but laugh at her father. She knew everything he did was out of love and came from a loving, caring place.

Pulling into the airport he looked to her. “Do you want me to walk in with you, kid?”

“Dad, I got this.”

“Come here.” Pulling her into a hug he squeezed her tightly. “Jensen will be there to pick you up when you land. Be sure to text us both when you land.”

“I know, I know.” She gave an eye roll and then a smile. “I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, kiddo.”

Waiting two hours, going through airport security and all the headache that was required to board, Lexi finally sat down in her seat. Letting her head fall back against the seat she closed her eyes taking a much needed deep breath she felt the vibrations of her phone in her pocket.

>>Dork 7:02am You should probably be boarding about now.

<<Punk 7:02am How do you do that?!

>>Dork 7:03am I’m magic

<<Punk 7:03am Oh really? Then turn my 6hr flight into a 30min one.

>>Dork 7:03am Not that good, Punk.

<<Punk 7:04am Love ya, you Dork!

>>Dork 7:04am Love you too Punk.

Lexi smiled, turning off her phone. Jensen and Lexi were thick as thieves despite their twenty one year age difference. Nearly five years ago while Jensen was working in Los Angeles, he was plagued by a deviant that kept trespassing in his backyard and going through his garbage. That deviant turned out to be an eleven year old Lexi. She was living in and out of foster homes due to parents who would rather get high than be actual parents and take care of her.

After months of short run ins between Jensen and Lexi, Jensen decided to take her under his wind and watch out for her. As time passed she melted his and his parents' hearts with her personality. Lexi managed to fit in with them so well. He parents overdosed and passed away a short time later and that’s when Jensen talked to his parents about the idea of Lexi becoming an Ackles officially. He originally wanted to be the one to adopt her but his age and her age would have made that tricky. Alan stepped in and Jensen became big brother. A fatherly big brother but big brother nonetheless.

Fast forward five years and now you have a bright, well brought up young woman that was making a giant leap to further her future. A future that was non existent five years ago. Pulling out her journal she slipped on her headphones and settled in for the flight.

Six hours and fifty two minutes later , the plane landed with a rough jerk in Vancouver. Gathering her things, Lexi filed in line to exit the plane. Powering up her phone she was greeted with a message.

>>Dork 1:26pm Hey Punk I hate to do this to you but I got called back on set. Jare is gonna pick you up. Be nice. Don’t hurt him.

Lexi smiled at her brother’s message turning to the baggage claim, she heard a familiar voice. “Excuse me miss but you look lost.” Lexi turned to see Jared standing behind her, a small bouquet of white roses in hand. He stood in his tall glory, a white beanie atop his head, a hoodie and dark jeans.

“Hey, Skyscraper!” She exclaimed reaching on her tiptoes to hug him. “My God, did you get taller?”

Jared swooped her up in a bear huge and gave her a quick spin before setting her back to the ground. “Well, hello to you, yoo beautiful. These are for you.”

“My favorite!” She exclaimed, burying her nose into the flowers. “Thank you, Jare!”

“What’s it been, like two months?” He asked looking her over.

“About, but it doesn’t feel that long.”

“That’s because you are always at my house.” He jested. “I swear you are one of the few people Gen trust the kids with.”

Lexi grabbed her bag with excitement. ‘Oh, speaking of!” She said handing Jared a folded up piece of paper. “Your little artist have been channeling Picasso lately.”

Jared with a smile of pride, chuckled. “I can see that.” He grinned reading the words ‘we miss you daddy’. “Oh and Gen told me Sheppy learned a new word at the pool the other day.”

“Okay?” Lexi gave him a confused stare.

“What was it?” Jared said playfully. “Oh yeah, bobbies.”

Lexi let out a laugh. “Dude, I was holding him and he just pinched me and shouted ‘boobies!’ I just take it That he will be a boob man.”

Jared shook his head with another laugh as they headed to the car. Once inside Lexi turned to him. “Locate the nearest Starbucks, please. I feel like a zombie.” She told him buckling her seat belt.

Pulling around the corner Lexi handed Jared a card. “Venti iced cinnamon dolce, please.”

“Put that away.” Jared instructed as he turned and order both coffee.

“Yes, sir!” Lexi gave him a mock salute.

It was a forty five minute drive to the house filled with small chit chat and catching up. Jared noticed something was different about Lexi. Sure, he hadn’t seen her in two months and she was a changing teenager, but something was indeed different. He couldn't put his finger on it.

Pulling into the drive Lexi gawked at the house. “Geez!” She looked tp Jared then back to the house. “It’s like ten times the size it looked in the pictures!” She exclaimed looking at the house for the first time.

“Yeah, well when you have three kids coming and going, you need big.” Jared said grabbing her bags and making his way to the door.

“Dude, I can get my own bags.”

“What do you have in here? A dead body?” Jared asked as he opened the door.

“No, that’s in the other bag.” She joked following him in the house.

“This is you room.” Jared told her as they reached up stairs. “Jensen got the room on the end and i’m across from you.” He sat the bags on the bed. “Do you need help unpacking?”

“Nah, I think I can manage.” She told him looking out the windows. “Dude you can see mountains!” Jared laughed at her excitement. “So, Jay’s directing this week?”

“Yeah, they had to reshoot a few shots that need to be in tonight. So looks like you’re stuck with me awhile.”

“Good, I may need you for some high shelves.” She poked fun.

By late that night Lexi and Jared had unpacked most of the boxes. The sun had long set and the temperature dropped. It was much different from the humidity in Texas. Their evening was mostly spent laughing till their stomachs hurt and catching up on things.

“Lex, this small box of stuff, where do you want it?” Jared asked opening it looking through pictures and movie ticket stubs. “Looks like keepsakes.”

“Let me see.” She said walking over. Jared watched as her expression changed when she looked in the box. “Oh, um, just, I’ll, I’ll take it.” She grabbed the box and set it at the bottom of her closet, tossing stuff over it.

“An ex?”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“I know that look you had on your face.”

“You hungry?” She asked changing the subject giving little acknowledgement to the comment or question.

Jared, picking up on her reluctancy, went with her. “Grilled cheese?”

At midnight that night Jensen walked through the front door, tossing his jacket on the couch. “Where is my little punk!?”

“Hey you big dork!” She ran into his arms squeezing him tightly.

“How was your flight? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to pick you up.” He held her hands in his.

“It’s all good. I had good company.”

“You look like you’ve grown since I last saw you!” Jensen looked at her.

“Just my boobs and butt.”

“Yeah, keep those covered.” He laughed pulling her into another hug before moving to the living room.

“Jared showed me a map of the city and I’ve already pinpointed the coffee shops and shopping centers.” Lexi explains sitting.

“Of course.”

“So, tell me, how is directing?”

The next morning Lexi was awakened by the sound of men laughing and talking loudly downstairs. Having went to bed in her normal tank top and shorts, Lexi was freezing. She would definitely need time to adjust to the weather difference. She drug herself out of bed and dug through a few leftover boxes till she found her Chili Peppers hoodie. Pulling it over her head she got up and headed downstairs.

The sun hadn’t even risen yet and the men walked around the kitchen bustling with energy, laughing. Lexi walked into the kitchen and saw Cliff standing with coffee in hand.

“I’m sorry, punk. Did we wake you?” Jensen asked pouring a cup of coffee.

“Y’all have big mouths.” Lexi sat at the counter laying her head on her folded arms.

“That little touch of southern drawl is so cute.” Cliff said setting the cup of coffee in front of her.

“Cliffy, you always knew the way to my heart.” She said as she sat up.

“When do you start school?” Cliff asked.

“Monday.”

“Later wanna come hang on set?” Jensen asked lacing his boots.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, as long as you behave.”

“Hell yes!” She told him. “Just let me get a few more hours of shut eye first. Beauty sleep is a necessity after traveling across the continent.”

“You’re beautiful.” Jensen told her as he leaned kissing her forehead before leaving.

Late morning rolled around and Lexi and Cliff were pulling up to the entry gate at Warner Bros. Cliff handed her a pass. “Keep this on you till the guard and security get used to who you are. After the get familiar with you you won’t really need other than to get in and out of the lot.”

“Okay, got ya.” She slipped the pass over her head.

Cliff introduced her to people as they passed on their way to the set. When they reached the set Jensen greeted her in his normal tight hug and excitement. It was easy to see he loved having his little sister around. He boasted on her and made sure she met everyone she hadn’t had the chance to meet. When the camera was rolling Lexi couldn't help but be amazed at how precise her brother was behind the camera as well as in front. She admired him in his determination to seek greatness in his task.

“Why do you look so concentrated?” Jared asked handing her a bottle or water.

“Jensen looks so in his element.” Lexi said. “And you,” She turned to Jared. “You are intense during certain scenes, just, wow!” She chuckled.

“When you truly love your job it comes natural.”

“Yeah, well I hope I find something I’m this passionate about.”

“You plan on going to college?”

“Yeah. I’m expected to.” She sipped on her water. “It’ll help me figure out what I want to do with my life. I haven’t even decided on a university yet.”

“Actually, I only have till the end of the school year.”

“Oh, right!” Jared pointed. “You’re a few grades ahead.”

“Yup, weirdo smart kid, right here.” Lexi pointed at herself.

“Nothing wrong with being smart.” Jared commented.

Lexi spent the entire rest of the day on set observing every possible thing she could. Lexi always had a love of learning. She was like a sponge just waiting to absorb whatever she could and took advantage of every opportunity she had to learn something new. After eight hours of asking questions and taking note of all that was going on around her, she made herself comfortable in her big brother’s chair.

“Somebody is worn out.” Jared said motioning to Lexi laying with her legs draped over one side of the chair and her head on the other, arms crossed over her chest.

A smile spread across his lips as he looked over seeing his little sister. Making his way over, he pushed her hair from her face. “Hey, punk, wake up.” He spoke softly.

Lexi opened her eyes and gave a chucked as she exhaled. “I totally just fell asleep in your chair didn’t I?” She covered her face with her hands.

“But you look so cute.” Jared crooned showed her a picture he’d taken on his phone.

“Oh, God, delete that!” She said standing. ~

Monday morning rolled around and by five am Lexi was already wide awake. Her nerves wouldn’t allow her to sleep much later than four thirty that morning. She sat at the counter with a cup of coffee dress in her new school uniform.

“Nice threads, preppy.” Jensen smiled walking down stairs.

“Haha.” Lexi said sipping her coffee in the khaki skirt and white button down blouse.

“Nervous?”

“A little.” She shrugged. “Just not sure what to expect. What if people think i’m weird or make fun of my accent?”

Jensen sipped from his cup. “Okay, one, you barely have an accent. And the little bit of one you do have is adorable.” Lexi rolled her eyes. “And two, you will do great, because you’re an Ackles. We kick ass.” Lexi couldn’t hold back her laugh at him. “You sure you don’t want me to drive you?”

“Positive. Cliff will drop me off this morning and I’ll walk back.”

“Whoa, walk back?” Jensen asked hearing this new information.

“It’s not far.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll walk the few blocks from school to the bus stop, then the two blocks from the bus stop here.”

“I don’t want you walking home alone. I’ll tell Cliff to pick you up.”

“No, Jay, I don’t want you putting people out of their way for me. I’ll be fine, I’ll manage.”

Jensen and Lexi had a stare down for a moment then Jensen huffed. “Okay, how about this, Cliff will drop you off and pick you up for one week.” He saw Lexi about to protest then he spoke again. “Just long enough to give you time to get used to the surroundings.”

Lexi rolled her eyes. “Fine, deal.”

Cliff and Lexi pulled into the school and she looked around at all the students with a mixture of anxiety and dread. “You’ll be fine.” Clif k9 f spoke. “If anyone messes with you, kick ‘em in the crotch.”

Lexi laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She took a deep breath grabbing her bag. “Here goes nothing.” She opened the door.

“Have a good day and good luck.” Cliff said as Lexi leaned in the big black SUV meeting Cliff’s extended fist with her own. “I’ll be back at three.”

“See, ya.” Lexi said closing the door and walking into the school.

She found her locker easier that she thought she would. Placing her books in, she looked at the paper in her hand and found her first class. Finding a seat in the back of the classroom, Leci sat quiet messing around on her phone trying to remain unnoticed.

“Morning, class!” She heard a woman say loudly causing her peers to begin seating themselves and quiet down. “When you’re ready.” The woman said urging the students to settle suddenly. “We have a new student joining us.” “Lexi’s eyes shut in panic. Do they seriously do this in every country? Lexi thought. The embarrassment of being introduced to the entire class when all you want is to blend in. As if being fifteen and a senior was bad enough. “Please, welcome Alexia Ackles.”

Everyone turned to her as she gave a small wave from her seat. “It, it’s Lexi, actually. E- everyone calls me Lexi.”

“Alright then, Lexi, want to tell us something about yourself?”

Not really, she thought. “Uh, I’m Lexi and I just moved up here from Texas.”

“Ackles as in Jensen Ackles?” A blonde girl with way too much makeup asked from across the classroom.

“Tall guy, green eyes, bow legs? Yeah, that’s my brother.” She said with a touch of cynicism in her voice.

“Welcome to Vancouver and welcome to Brookston, Lexi.” The teacher said as she then began her lesson.

Lexi was more appreciative that the focus was no longer on her. Taking a small but deep breath she took her books out and began following along with the lesson. She could do this, she told herself.

TAGS:

@saxxxyjared

#SPN #spnfamily #supernatural #Jared Padalecki #Jensen Ackles #RPF #spn rpf #JaredxOFC #OFC

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weartirondad · 5 years

Text

And You Would Smile (And That Would Be Enough) 6/6

5 times Tony helps pull Peter away from an anxiety built cliff and the 1 time Peter is on his own. (part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v)

FF.net I ao3

Today was a good day.

Like, a good day as in the sun was shining, tickling Peter’s nose through the classroom window and when he got out it was neither too warm nor too hot.

Good as in Flash was out sick, they had gotten back two tests both of which he had aced and Ned kept going on and on about the latest Lego newsletter and all the new sets in it.

Good as in it was Friday and he would spent the weekend with Tony at the tower with May, Pepper, Rhodey and Happy joining them for a movie night on Saturday.

It was an almost suspiciously good day.

Peter tried to shove that nagging voice in his head somewhere in the deep abysses of his mind because he would not let his stupid anxiety ruin this perfectly fine day for him. Much to his own surprise it actually worked for once, leaving him to stroll through the floors one last time that week with a clear head and a big smile.

“Are you planning on going out before heading to Mr. Stark’s?”

They had stopped walking, standing just outside the school doors, and Ned was looking at him excitedly, voice skipping very inconspicuously when he emphasized his secret coded message. Peter was too happy to point it out to him, though, and there was no one around anyway so he just shook his head while enjoying the warm sun on his face.

“Nope, Tony has the suit for reparation after a teensy tiny knife fight on Wednesday,” he told his guy-in-the-chair with a sheepish smile and what he hoped were an innocent flutter of his eyelashes. “I’ll go out when I get to the tower, though, I’m sure he’s already been done with it since like the middle of the night on Wednesday but he’s a little mad about me getting stabbed in the first place so he’s drawing it out.”

Ned stared at him for him minute before letting out a huff that was half annoyed, half amused. “Well, at least he’s giving you the don’t-get-stabbed-talk so I don’t have to. Seriously, dude, you’re supposed to avoid getting hit.”

“Well, gee, now that you say that it makes so much more sense,” he shot back with an eye roll, digging through his backpack with one hand looking for his phone, “Are you taking the bus home?”

“Nah, my mum’s picking me up so I can help her grocery shopping.”

Peter grimaced sympathetically but pulled out his phone and headphones in triumph, “But at least you’ll get to choose which flavor Doritos she’s buying. Ah, man,” he sighed when his phone gave a sad beep before shutting down, “Can I have your phone real quick to text Tony that I’m walking over?”

His best friend was suddenly incapable of forming sentences. “You wanna. Text, uh, Tony real quick,” he repeated, eyes widening and Peter had to work really hard to stifle a laugh. “You, uh, Tony Stark. My phone. Uh.”

“Ned?” He waved his hand in front of the star-struck teenager before simply grabbing the phone he had been asking for from Ned’s lax grip. It took him a minute to type a message and send it to one of the three numbers he actually knew by heart (For emergencies, something May had insisted on since he’d been able to count) and when he was done and the phone back in Ned’s grasp the boy was still blinking ahead stupidly. That is, until a car honked loudly and his mum called for him.

He gave his friend a gentle shove in the right direction before patting his back and saying his goodbyes and greetings to Mrs. Leeds. “See you tomorrow!”

Then Peter was alone and started walking in the direction of the tower, phone and headphones back in his backpack, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket and with a happy skip in his step. He absorbed the noises of the city, the honking of cars, occasional shouts and bustling people, enjoying the normality of it all. It were moments like these when he felt like a normal teenager. Right now his enhanced senses weren’t bothering him, they were simply a way to feel more of the beauty of the day, they made him special without standing out.

He’d been born and raised in New York and the loud noises on the street actually held familiarity when they weren’t overwhelming him. On days like these, when he was at peace with the world and himself, he liked that it was never really quiet and that he was never really alone but rather part of something. He was part of a group of people who were all doing their own thing without knowing what the person next to them was going through.

There was a beauty to that kind of anonymity and connectivity –

A scream pulled him out of his musings. A barely audible cry for help. A kid’s voice.

The second his brain had registered the noise and filed it under important and ‘immediate reaction advised’ the back of his neck started buzzing. It was an unpleasant feeling that Ned liked to call his Spidey sense and that was useful about five out of ten times. And of course it would start going off when he had already established that there was something going on.

Still, he let the hum urge him on and it didn’t take him long to make out what was making the child scream.

There, towering above him, was a skyscraper and it was burning.

A large crowd of people were already assembled in front of the building in a safe distance, ambulances standing all around while several fire workers were working on putting out the fire. Strangely enough there was significantly less uproar and turmoil in the masses than he had expected.

They all seemed weirdly… settled. Scared, dusty and covered in small bruises but not as if they were looking for someone. The fire workers were only running out of the building, no one was charging in to save the child.

“What’s going on?” he asked a middle- aged man who was staring up at the fire, face scrunched up in worry.

He looked down at the kid before telling him that the fire alarm had started half an hour ago and that luckily everyone inside had already been saved and when he started talking about property damage and insurance Peter broke away.

“Hey! Sorry!” He yelled, sprinting over to the barrier to get the fire workers’ attention. “Hey! There’s someone still in there! There’s-“ His voice broke off but luckily a woman had heard him and he could only hope that she would listen because being so close to a building that was destined to collapse was doing wonders for his state of mind.

“Calm down, sweetie. There’s no one in there. We checked every floor.” He hated adults with a passion just then. He hated not having his suit with him. They would’ve listened to Spider- Man.

“I swear, there’s someone still in there! I- It’s,” he spluttered, heart beating too fast and breaths coming in too shaky to form a real sentence let alone thought. “You need- You need to check again!”

She looked at him with compassion but damn her he didn’t want compassion. “We will check again, okay, but we can’t go that high up anymore, the fire’s been working through the building’s core. But we’ll look for your brother, okay? What’s your name? You might want to-“

Peter had already slipped away, pure panic gripping his heart at the sight in front of him. But he could still hear the voice. It was interrupted by more coughing with every scream but the kid was there and the fire worker’s weren’t fast enough and-

Without thinking he doubled back and went to the back of the building where no one was watching before starting his climb up.

His hands were sweating but he couldn’t think about how he could fall to his death with just a wrong step, he couldn’t think of-

“Mommy! Please!”

The kid’s voice pulled him from his spiraling thoughts and it was so close now. He must be on the right floor. He just needed to get inside. Of course it was one of the floors that had flames leaking out at the sides.

Funnily enough his hand wasn’t shaking when he lifted it from the side of the building to throw a punch into a nearby window. His hand was steady even when his whole body was vibrating with pure, unadulterated fear.

“Hello?” he tried, voice choking on his spit, as he climbed through the shattered window awkwardly. Shards of glass were ripping through his clothes and skin but he ignored them in favor of trying to orientate himself and listening for a reply.

There was none and for a moment he felt like passing out. Oh god, what if this was the wrong floor?

There was, however, a tiny whimper somewhere to his right.

Peter dropped down to his knees and adjusted his hoodie so it was at least covering his mouth before slowly crawling through the – not yet burning – remains of a living room until he reached a little boy, not older than four that was cowering behind a turned table.

“Hey, I’m Peter,” the teenager tried to address him before he touched him, worried the boy would freak out, but the second he realized that there was someone else there, he leaped up and clung to him like he was a lifeline. Which, he probably was in that moment. At least the hope for one.

“I-I’m s-so sc-sca-red,” he hiccupped into Peter’s neck who was holding tightly onto the tiny body in his arms, trying to sooth him through patting his hair in a similar fashion May and Tony usually did for him. He’s mind was going into overdrive figuring out how to get out but he couldn’t move them before he hadn’t calmed him down at least a little bit. “M-my m-mommy went d-downs-stairs a-and-“ he broke off into another sob and Peter shushed him gently.

“It’s okay, I’m getting you out,” he whispered softly and, really, he thought he was doing a fantastic job at keeping the appearance of calm. “We just need to get to the window and then we can climb out, okay? Can you climb? What’s your name, buddy?”

The little boy nodded and introduced himself as Sam and he was glad because if he was responsive then Peter could just keep on rambling to ignore the fact that every single fiber in his body was screaming ‘You’re gonna die’ all at once.

Together they made their way over to where Peter had come in from. But the crawl was going so slowly, too slowly. He needed to get ou-

With a loud bang part of the ceiling came crashing down.

Nononononono

Peter let go of the boy as gently as he could which wasn’t all that gently and the kid whimpered again, pulling the backpack off of Peter’s back when he was in the middle of turning around. He let him though, his entire being focused on the rubble that was blocking their way to the window.

It was dusty and everything was burning and water was dripping from the burst pipes.

He fell to his knees. He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t. He would die. He couldn’t get out. There was too much, too-

Another crack and he reacted before he fully realized what was happening and then he was there again. He was holding up part of the ceiling, rubble and debris coming down on him and Sam was screaming.

Oh god. Sam.

Peter blinked, biting back the scream at the bottom of his throat and blinking through the tears running down his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” he managed to choke out, “It’s gonna be okay.”

His heart would combust. He was sure of it. There was no way he could survive this again. There was no way the building wouldn’t crush him this time. Squish him like a tiny bug. Like he had no backbone at all. He was Atlas, carrying the sky, stopping two worlds from colliding, only he wasn’t strong enough.

God.

“May,” he sobbed, legs shaking under the weight of the concrete and with the burden of his panic. “T-Tony.”

He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t strong enough. He wasn’t –

In front of him sat Sam, tiny body shaking with sobs as he clung to the backpack he had ripped from Peter’s back. His backpack –

Yes! He almost cried with relief when he realized what that meant. But he was already crying anyway so maybe his tears were just mixing at this point.

Focus, Peter.

“S-sam?” he managed to get out through gritted tears, thankful that the boy seemed to trust him enough to immediately sit up at his voice. Then again, he was currently holding up the part of the building that would’ve smashed them both otherwise.

Let’s not think about that.

“Can you open my backpack?” he asked, trying to breathe through the panic that was still rolling over him in waves, threatening to take over, threatening to drown him. Nope. He had to get this done. Then he’d deal with his panic. “G-great, now do you see Ironman?”

One breath. Two breaths. Steady.

“You need to press the side of his heel,” he instructed the boy who nodded ferociously and did as he was told. Peter heard the faint sound telling him that the emergency message, including their current location, had been sent and now there was actually some relief in his panic.

“Will Ironman come to save us now?”

The voice sounded so tiny and, really, all Peter wanted to do was say yes, break down and let Tony save the day but Sam would die if he let go.

“Yeah, he will,” he managed to choke out anyway, “H-he’ll save us.” Only Peter wasn’t sure he wouldn’t collapse before that.

One breath. Two brea –

The smoke in his lungs made him choke and his head snap up. The smoke was getting thicker by the minute and he already couldn’t breathe properly.

“S-sam.” One breath. “You need to.” Two breaths. “Cover your nose.” Three breaths. “And mouth.”

But the boy was shaking again, obviously having realized that he wasn’t getting enough air either, and Peter couldn’t comfort him because he was trying to keep them from dying and he was trying not to let the weight crush him and he was-

“Sam. Press down on the blue thing, okay?” He couldn’t breathe. “Gr-great. Just h-hide y-your face i-in the bl-blue light.” One more inhale. Just one more. “That’s g-good. O-okay, s-stay l-like th-that. ‘S g-gonna gonna b-be o-okay.” Exhale.

Part of him relaxed when he saw Sam do as he was told but that gave all the other parts of time to focus on his barely suppressed panic. Which was not good.

Breathing. He had to keep breathing. He couldn’t but he had to.

One. Two.

He broke off with a sob, panting through the hoodie over his mouth. He couldn’t do it. His lungs wouldn’t open and even if they did, they would inhale smoke and dust and death and –

Gritting his teeth, Peter tried to stand up a little straighter and he started counting again. Tony would be there. Tony would come. He’d just have to survive until then.

One. Two. Thr-

The building moved and he let out a scream when some part of the ceiling impaled his back. No. Gaze fixated on the little boy, he bit back another scream and took another breath.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

He made it.

He made it through five breaths.

His heart was still beating too fast, his breathing was still coming out in gasps and his entire body was on fire but he made it through five breaths. He could do five more.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

With his eyes closed he imagined May standing next to him, her gentle hand on his upper arm and her warm smile resonating through his chest. May would never let him suffocate.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

His breaths were evening out.

Ned was rooting for him. He was clutching his hand with one hand and gave him a thumbs up with the other. His smile was pained but he was being strong for Peter. Ned believed he could do it.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

His galloping heart was slowing down.

He half expected Tony to join the group next and he almost staggered when his Uncle’s hand found his waist, the touch soothing some of the pain. His Uncle would help him carry the building.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

His body slowly stopped shaking.

Tony was standing right in front of him, a look of worried conviction flickering in his eyes. When he blinked it was gone and all that was left was love and pride and then a hand came to ruffle his hair and he lowered his head, letting the panicked tension leak out of his body. Tony would come.

Peter blinked when he felt his vitals had returned to normal. Well, as normal as they could be in a life threatening situation. He was thankful for the adrenalin coursing through his blood, certain that it was the only thing keeping the post-panic-attack fatigue at bay.

“Hey Sam,” he spoke up, voice scratchy with dust and smoke but steady and calm, “Are you holding up? Tony’ll be here any second, I swear.”

The boy had barely time to mumble an affirmative into the plushy before Peter could hear the sounds of repulsors closing in on them and suddenly the ceiling wasn’t as heavy anymore.

When he looked up from Sam, he found War Machine standing beside him, helping him hold up the building and Vision came flying through the path Rhodey had cleared on his way. The corner of his lips tucked up in tired satisfaction when he watched the android pick Sam up and retreat back to safety.

The boy was safe. He wasn’t carrying the sky anymore. The adrenalin leaked out of his body with the tension and Peter collapsed forward.

He never hit the ground though. Instead he hit the cool metal of the Iron- Man suit that enveloped him in strong metal arms and picked him up as if he weight nothing. He really did feel weightless just then. And so tired.

“Thanks for saving us,” he mumbled between coughs as he let his body go limp. His head fell to the shoulder of the suit and, it wasn’t the physical contact he was craving but it was something he associated with safety and so he let his mind drift, too. The last thing he picked up before everything went black was Tony’s voice, a little tinny through the suit.

“You did all the saving, squirt. We’re just providing the getaway car.”

Peter was hunched over his desk in the work shop, eyes squinted in concentration, tongue tucked between his front teeth and fingers moving quickly yet meticulously. Everything had to be perfect. This project had big shoes to fill.

“You done yet, kid?”

He looked up with a crocked smile, stopping his motions, when his mentor wandered over and heavy hands settled on his shoulders. His thumbs rubbed circles into his shoulder blades, letting Peter relax in his grasp while the tension from sitting still for so long slowly leaked out of him.

“Won’t get done if you keep doing that,” he mumbled in halfhearted complaint but didn’t move out of Tony’s personal space who seemed content to stay right where he was.

The older man chuckled, fingers now running through Peter’s curly strands. “Want me to help you?”

“Nope, you’re doing the tech and I’m getting the software done,” he insisted, “Since you wouldn’t let me help last time.”

Now the billionaire was full on laughing and Peter grinned. He had long since learned to cherish every one of Tony’s honest laughs and he prided himself on tickling them out of him more and more often. Some days tickling was actually involved. But not today. Today was a calm day spent in the lab where they mostly moved around in silence, throwing ideas back and forth every once in a while, and took a break from their usually busy lives. A wonderful kind of boring. Just what he needed.

“Software, really?” came the fond reply, “How long have you been sitting on that one?”

“Let’s just say I’ve been hoping you’d ask me for help for half an hour now,” he grinned back, earning yet another chuckle. He was leaning against Tony’s chest at this point and so the tiny vibrations the emotion prompted swept through his own body like a wave of warmth and home.

It had been so quiet earlier that it had gotten Peter thinking on how he was really missing his StarkPal that hadn’t been salvageable after almost catching on fire two days ago. Thinking back, he was sure Tony had already had plans to make him a new one, but as it was he had suggested they start working on one and while his mentor had figured out how to rebuild the tech (because, let’s be honest he was a lot faster at that stuff), Peter had jumped at the opportunity to sew the plushy.

He had done fairly well, too, considering Tony had only taught him how to use a sewing machine four hours ago.

“I’m done, I think,” he said, disrupting the comfortable silence that had descended on them, “Only way to tell is to turn him inside out and take a look.”

“Ready for the big reveal?”

Truth be told, the plushy wasn’t as perfectly executed as the first one that Tony had sewn but Peter couldn’t care less. Not when Tony looked at him like he had just single handedly managed world peace. Not when, after they had put the tech back in, the blue light was glowing as reassuringly as ever and the heartbeat matched the one that had gotten him through so many bad days.

Friday had been awful. Yet, somehow he had fought through his own demons and surprisingly enough he had come out on top. And he was really freaking proud of that.

“Thank you,” he whispered, plushy tucked under his arm as he reached out to engulf Tony in a bone crushing hug. He was so grateful, so unbelievably lucky to have all these people on his side. There was no way he would ever be able to put it into words, so he didn’t try past a, “Thank you for believing in me.”

Because that was what they did. That was what made him strong. That was what made him hope that someday he would be fine on his own.

“Love you, kid.”

Peter smiled. “I know.”

fin.

#irondad #irondad fic #tony stark #peter parker #josis fic #and you would smile (and that would be enough)#starkpal #5 + 1 fic

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mellicose · 6 years

Text

Pie Time

A Chris x Eva fluffy fic for a friend Rating: PG-13, for some profanity and sexual innuendo

Word count: 2760

Summary: Chris knows Eva’s having a hard week, and he shares an old household tradition with her to make things better.

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

Eva’s cell buzzed. She was correcting worksheets in her planning period, but as usual during that time of the month, it was harder to concentrate. When she looked at the phone, she smiled. It was Chris.

How you doing, love? x

Ugh x, she responded, and sighed.

Uh oh. Tiff with a student?

No. Exhausted. How’s work?

It’s a short day. Dinner?

I’m too tired to go out.

I’ll cook.

Really?

Of course. Requests?

Food.

I’ll do it at yours. Key’s still above the door?

Yeah.

I’ll see you later xo

Love you 💋, she responded, and put the phone down.

Why was it that he seemed to text her when she was feeling down? It’s like he knew, and it meant the whole world to her. She bit her lip, and got back to grading.

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

She hissed as another cramp rolled across her lower belly. A car beside her honked and made her jump. Traffic was shit for no noticeable reason.

It had to be today, when she wanted nothing more than to be home. On any other day, when her cold empty little apartment waited for her, the road was virtually empty. She groaned.

Cold sweat beaded her brow, and she turned up the AC. The motor rattled ominously. Her old car didn’t like pumping out cold air when it wasn’t moving. Warm air stirred the hair on her neck. She she sat in a warm puddle of damp. The car in front of her inched forward, then stopped suddenly. She stomped on her brakes and cursed, then giggled nervously.

He would be appalled at her mouth. She wiped her brow and turned up the AC. The air began to feel slightly cool. The sun beat on her left cheek, making it tingle. Another cramp made her curl into herself. It was really bad this month.

She squinted at her windshield. Just 10 more miles to home. She squeezed the steering wheel and sighed.

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

She limped into her apartment building and up the stairs. She didn’t care if he was just bluffing about cooking. His lovely, smiling face would be enough to make her forget-

As she got to the second floor, the warming smell of cooking made her lax with happiness. Before she could slide her key into the lock, he opened the door with a big smile.

“Welcome home!” he said, and pulled her inside. He hugged her tight, then took a better look at her face and sucked his teeth. “You look…”

“Terrible. You can say it,” she said, and dropped her bag. She kicked off her shoes and fell back into his arms. He smelled like herbs. She hid her face in the crook of his neck and took a deep breath. He rubbed her back and grunted softly.

“I’ve got to check on the filling,” he said, reluctantly let go of her, and jogged to her kitchenette. She looked around her living room. He had opened the curtains and put the pile of books on her table back in the bookcase. “You go change into something cozy. Pie’s almost in the oven.”

She trudged into her bedroom, stripped out of her dress and bra, and put on a pair of soft cotton shorts and her old high school gym t-shirt. Next, she went into the bathroom and washed off her makeup, and put her long hair in a messy bun at the top of her head. She groaned at the dark circles under her eyes, and eyed her breasts. She cupped them over her shirt and hissed at the ache.

“You want something cool to drink, sweetie?” he said from the kitchen.

“I’ll be right there!” she said, still scrutinizing herself in the mirror. She felt gross. Swollen. Horrible.

“Pie’s in the oven!” he shouted merrily. She bent closer to the mirror. She had just washed her face, but her skin was already getting oily again. She frowned, and fine lines appeared at the corners of her mouth. A wave of malaise rose from the pit of her belly.

“What you doing?” he said from the bathroom door.

“Nothing. Just stewing,” she said, and smiled at him. He smiled back, and it made her heart lurch. He was so sweet. But he wasn’t stupid.

“You looked a bit … perplexed,” he said as he hugged her. He mmm’d at her fragrant softness. He liked her like this - in her house clothes, no makeup. He loved the fact they were in a place in their relationship where she trusted him to see her that way.

He pulled her back into the living room and onto the sofa, where he put his arm around her.

“Have you ever had days when you look at yourself and think ‘what do they bloody see in me?’” she said, and pulled her feet underneath her.

His brow rose, then he crinkled his nose. “I try not to.”

“I’m tired. And crabby. And oily. And bloated. Like a bitchy balloon.”

“Balloons are oily?” he said, and kissed her temple. He tried not to giggle.

She rolled her eyes. “Harr harr,” she said, and made a face at him.

He shrugged. “Never ever heard of crabby balloons. The term is strange, honestly. Crabby.” He pinched his index and and middle fingers together.

“You’ve never had a giant, angry territorial crab stand between you and the safety of the beach parking lot,” she said, giving him a crooked grin. “Those buggers are quick, and those pincers really hurt.” She pouted.

“I can’t say I have,” he said. “I know there have to be crabs in Scotland, but I’ve never had an encounter with one.”

“There’s loads by my grandmum’s house on the island,” she said. “Thousands. Possibly millions. And they’re mean.”

“Do they eat them?” he said.

“‘Course they do. They eat just about anything,” she said.

“They eat the crabby,” he whispered, and tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear. He licked his bottom lip and smiled. She looked down at her hands before he noticed the hungry shine in her eyes. Despite her thoughts, her stomach growled. Loudly. He giggled.

“Someone’s hungry,” he said, and rose to check on something in the kitchen. He came back with a cold glass of white wine and handed it to her. She accepted it with a smile. He sipped on a bottle of mineral water.

“I thought you were bluffing about dinner,” she said. “I feel silly now.” She touched her lips to the wine.

“It’s alright. It’s usually been my sister and her friends cooking when you come over on weekends, but I know how. I can’t have turkey twizzlers and mash every night.”

She made a face and shook her head. “Yuck. No.”

“They’re not so bad. But a man can’t live on sausage alone,” he said. He put a pillow on his lap and patted it. She put the wine down and laid on it. He touched her hair. “May I?” She nodded, and he pulled her hair out of the bun and started to massage her scalp. It felt so good her nipples hardened. She made a sound deep in her throat.

“You say you’re crabby, but you’re more like a kitten,” he said, and ran his fingers through her silky waves.

“Am I?” she said, and darted to bite his hand softly. He put his hand over her mouth, then caressed her until her eyes closed.

“See? Exactly like a kitten,” he said, and started rubbing her neck. She moaned and shifted to give him better access.

“You like that?” he said. It made her cheeks burn, and she giggled it off.

“Yeah,” she said.

“If you don’t mind sitting up, I can rub your shoulders and back,” he said. She bounced up, and he patted the sofa. “On your stomach.” She obeyed, and he sat on the edge and started rubbing. She moaned a little more loudly.

“Sorry,” she said, then gasped as he found and kneaded at a sore muscle over her shoulder blade.

“It’s okay,” he said. “The sounds let me know if I’m doing it right.” She snorted, then shoved her head in the cushion. “Yeah yeah. That’s what he said.”

She trembled with laughter. “You know me too well already.”

“Uhuh,” he said, and started working his hands down her spine, to where the real ache was.

“Unsavory jests and innuendo,” he play-grumbled, and he caressed right over the waistband of her shorts. “May I?”

“Hmm?” she said.

“Lift your shirt a bit. I don’t want to give you friction burn,” he said.

“That wouldn’t be good,” she said archly. “Of course.” She lifted her shirt up so most of her back was exposed. He sucked his teeth when he saw the fading red marks where her bra bit into her sides.

“Awww,” he said, and rubbed gently at the marks. Unconsciously, his fingers followed them down the curve of her ribs, and they bumped up against softness. “Oops!” he said too cheerfully, but sweat beaded his brow. He had touched her breasts.

“It’s okay,” she said, her face still in the pillow. She lifted her head. “Bad bras. They can double as torture devices, but it’s laundry day, so…”

“Yeah. Of course,” he said, and rubbed her lower back. She was beautiful. Her shape fascinated him. She went from strong shoulders to a small waist that widened gracefully into her hips. He caressed her sides from underneath her arms to the outside of her hips. His stomach did a somersault. His heart pounded. He pressed his thumbs into the indentations on her back right above her butt, and she groaned and fidgeted.

“Almost there. Just a bit closer to the spine,” she said, and lowered the waistline of her shorts a few inches. His hands stopped moving. He traced the valley of her back from her waist down to her shorts, then squeezed her hips. She didn’t notice, so she turned around. Her smooth, flat belly was exposed nearly down to where her hair started. His hand rested on the wing of her hip. “Why’d you stop? You get bored?”

She was oblivious. He popped up with a smile.

“I should check on the pie,” he said, and jogged to the kitchen with his hands over his fly. He breathed deeply, trying not to think about the insistent throbbing between his legs. It’s just her body. Just muscle and skin over bone.

Bone. He sighed and wiped the sweat from his face. Bone.

She had a nice body. A soft body. Her skin smelled like flowers and her hair was soft and tangled in his fingers and her mouth was plump and luscious and clever-

“Whatcha doing?” she said as she walked in, rubbing her belly pensively. Just a glimpse made him turn the other way.

“Pie’s almost done,” he said, pressing his hips against the counter. She put her arms around him laid her head between his shoulder blades.

“So … why the pie? Is it your favorite?” she said, and tugged on his polo shirt.

“It’s a bit of a tradition,” he said. Surprisingly, her innocent touch made him start calming down.

“Really? How?” she said. He turned around and kissed the top of her head.

“You know I lived with my mother and my sister,” he said.

“Mmmhmm,” she said into his chest. She breathed him in. During this time of the month, her sense of smell sharpened, so she clearly smelled his laundry detergent, traces of the air freshener he used in his car, herbs, and underneath it all, him. Soap and clean, warm skin. She smiled.

“When I was younger, it was known as pie time.”

“Huh?” she said, looking up at him.

“Pie time. Chicken pot pie, hot water bottles and cheesy romantic comedies to cry out the hormones,” he said, blushing.

She started to understand. “Pie time, huh?”

“I don’t know whether if I was a woman, I’d want pie. It’s not my favorite - I prefer a hot, buttery mash and a roast - but they preferred it. Along with chocolate. And fruit. And crisps. Lots of crisps.”

“Ahhh,” she said, and smiled. He knew. Of course.

“I also brought you a tiny chocolate mousse cake, crisps, and a bag of cherries. And a DVD copy of Pride and Prejudice. Or Predator. I don’t quite know what you’re into but I wanted to cover all the bases,” he said.

She burst out laughing. “How’d you know?” she said. They’d only been together for five months.

“I can count,” he said, shrugging bashfully. “Also, you told me a few months back. It’s a full moon tonight.”

“Oh yeah,” she said. She had told him three months before, when she had been too tired for a romantic moonlit walk during a date. As ever, he was more kind than she deserved. She sniffed the air. The rich umami scent of pastry, chicken, and vegetables made her belly rumble again. Although she’d never thought of it, a lovely pot pie would just about hit the spot.

“Where’s the fruit?” she said.

“Go sit back down. I’ll bring them out to you,” he said, and kissed the tip of her nose. She ran back to the sofa and took a sip of her wine. Another cramp twisted deep in her belly, and she groaned. The running did it.

He came back with a bowl of freshly washed cherries and a grocery bag.

“What’s that?” she said, reaching for it. He sat down beside her and pulled it out of reach.

“The treats and the movies,” he said. She snatched the bowl of fruit and started eating. “Which do you prefer. The gore or the romance?”

“Predator,” she said through a mouthful of cherry.

“I had a feeling,” he said, pulling the DVD out with a sigh. She stopped chewing. He knew she liked a good horror film, but she knew that he hated them.

“We don’t have to watch it. It’s grisly,” she said, wiping her mouth. “You don’t like grisly.”

“This isn’t about me,” he said, and popped the movie in the player.

“But you’re here, and I won’t have you puking on my sofa when the creature rips out the soldier’s spine,” she said casually.

He made a horrified face. “That happens?”

“Yeah. Early in the film,” she said, and got up to take the DVD out of the player. “We’re watching Mr. Darcy.” She sat down hard beside him and pulled his arm over her shoulder. He smiled at her and kissed her forehead.

He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. “That’s alright with me.”

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

6 years later

Elena ran into the house in front of her father as he struggled with the grocery bags. She dropped her empty cartoon bookbag by the sofa and ran into the kitchen.

“The fidge-fridg-fidgerator door is open, daddy,” she said, tugging on her fluffy golden brown ponytail. Her tiny baby glasses glinted in the early afternoon light. She was the spitting image of him, except for her mum’s rosebud mouth and dark brown eyes.

“Close it, sweetheart! You’ll let the cold out,” he said, dropping the bags with a groan. She danced around him.

“Pie time! Pie time! Daddy’s gonnae make a pie time!” she sang joyfully, then nearly tripped him as she ran to help him put away the groceries. “I love tikky pat pie,” she said.

He giggled. Her little four year-old tongue couldn’t quite get it right yet.

“It’s chicken pot pie,” he said.

“I know,” she said, nodding her head gravely. “But I like saying tikky pat pie. Tikky pat-tikky pat-tikky pat pieeee.” She ran into the living room of the cottage him and Eva shared, and jumped on the sofa.

“Momma’s coming home soon?” she yelled as she turned on the TV. “I miss her.”

“School lets out in an hour,” he said as he took the jar of flour out of the pantry.

“Why I come out earlier?” she asked, quite sensibly. She walked back into the kitchen.

“Because you only stay half a day now. But next year, you stay the whole day, just like mummy,” he said.

“Why only half?” she said. She hugged his leg as he cut the fat into the flour to make the pastry.

“Because the people at the school know just how much I love you, and how much I’d miss you if you were gone the whole day,” he said. She wriggled and hugged him tighter.

“What about next year, daddy? Won’t you miss me then?” she said.

“Of course. Let’s not think about it,” he said, and patted her head. He patted the dough into a ball and started on the chicken.

“I love pie time,” Elena said, and ran back into the living room, were an old episode of Spongebob blared from the TV. He smiled and sliced celery. His little girl, still so innocent and sweet. There was still lots of time, right?

But he knew better. Time flies.

Sooner than he wanted, he’d be making pies especially for her too.

I’m linking @sameastonartist , since she made the request.

#Chris from Learners #Chris x Eva #and Elena too #David Tennant #fan fiction #I hope you like it!

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gallivantingheart · 6 years

Text

Lyrical Hearts (Part 4)

Synopsis: Post-What Can I Do/I Loved You/When You Love Someone Saga. Young K - Brian - Younghyun - whatever you wanted to call him - was known for being unknown. At least until you caught him and his band practicing late one afternoon. This is the narrative of your soft, tentative beginnings with the gruff bassist.

Pairing: Young K/Brian/Younghyun x fem!Reader

Genre: Romance. General? Acquaintance-to Friends-to Lovers?

Word Count: 1641

Listening Recommendations: Day6 - Now (From Immortal Songs 2) & Day6 - I’m Serious

A/N: We’re getting to good stuff, I swear! Next chapter solves some stuff, hopefully.

The Beginning || Part 3

If you're feeling poetic, you might think, what's in a name? Sure, most people call him Brian - it's what he'd introduced himself as first day of school. Younghyun Kang, but Brian's easier. Who knew one word, nine letters, would cause such a reaction?

"So, what's it supposed to mean?" You say to Somi and Dani on the bus ride over to yours. "A name is only a little part of who you are. Surely it can't mean that much, especially coming out of my mouth."

"Well, at least you know why he looks at you the way he does." Somi says airily.

The three of you had nabbed a trio of seats right by the back door, Somi in the middle. She's snacking on her biscuits she made in food tech., doing her best to hide them from the bus drivers' line of sight. The slightest whiff of food consumption could get her kicked off - school kid and all - and you know all too well the pains of having to walk to your place. Still, you're a bit smug about it. Dani thought he didn't like you.

Now, Dani isn't always so negative. She's known you for years and the only way to ground you at all is to try and get you to think of the worst. Try, being key here. She's just gotten good at it since fifth grade.

You shake your head, plunging your hand into the clear plastic bag sat carefully in Somi's lap. "I just...I don't get it. I don't get him. He's been nothing but confusing. Have boys always been like this?"

Valentine's Day rears its' love struck and rather ugly head on Wednesday. There is romance and heartbreak thick in the air. You can tell that Dowoon is gearing up on Monday for the day, a little on edge and a bit more quiet than usual. You remember that to most of the girls in class, the drummer is an intelligent, sweet and soft-spoken boy, holding the right amount of light and mystery to lure in young, hormonal high school girls in droves. The same mystery Younghyun couldn't seem to balance - not that he minded at all. Since October, the enigmatic pair had gotten closer, the bassist discreetly watching after Dowoon and sometimes giving him an out from the fawning fans. It was clear that Young K cared, in his own frigid way.

The girls on the bus that morning - particularly Haebin, a short and slender girl with heavy bangs - are babbling and gushing about their gifts to their admirees (Mainly Dowoon). What would his reaction be to their homemade chocolate or cool pen? Would this year be the year it changed? You groan loudly, partly at their antics, partly at the delay announced over the bus's radio - burst water main. You turn your music up.

Due to the mild delay, the girls don't get much of a chance to shower Dowoon with their objects of affection. You see his shoulders relax and white grip on his phone fade as the bell rings.

Lunch break turns into a shrill, pink hell. The moment the bell rings and the teacher slopes out the room, there is a blizzard of movement from all corners of the room. Girls scrambling to pull out their presents and drop them in front of him first. He's patted and cooed at like a sweet kitten yet swarmed like he's aggravated a hive of bees. Gifts, wrapped wonderfully and of varying functionality are landed on his desk. Your jaw drops, sending a horrified look Young K's way. Is this what everyone sees when they think of high school girls, you think. The mild delinquent's sharp voice and oddly soft hands aren't enough to protect his friend like usual. Dowoon is sliding his headphones in, patient but helpless sight glancing you through the masses.

He can't live like that - it has to be inhumane; surely there is a law against it somewhere. You take a look around the class, trying to think of an idea that can help. Donghae is laughing as he heads out to the hall. Hopefully no one would recognise it...

You scribble his number on a scrap of paper and pull out of our seat. "I got Dowoon's number!"

The squeals fall silent, an eerie stillness rippling throughout the horde of females. Together they turn, latching onto the note thrust like a flaming torch above your head. As they rush your place in a deafening battle cry, you see Dowoon slither out the door. He throws you a pitying, thankful smile.

Sorry. Thanks. He mouths.

You can barely muster a grimace as you push and pull, trying to distract for long enough. There is shriek (which you realise a second later is your own) and a yank to your tie, another at the end of your hair. Crazy, all of them are crazy, you chant in your mind. Somi is too stunned to even consider assisting, Dani too petite to do much.

You miss Younghyun's proud smirk, hidden behind a phone screen.

[Unknown] Received 4:27pm Thanks for today. Hopefully I can pay you back somehow, soon. Y.D.

Your "heroic" act doesn't go unnoticed the next day, Jae howling with laughter as he reenacts it the only way he can with all those limbs. Once in a while, young K will smirk, repeating a line. He likes to do that you find, if something amuses him and you think the habit is just as funny.

"Valiant effort." Younghyun says dryly by the window baring the hallway.

"I'm surprised you even made it out alive. Those girls were...wahh." Wonpil adds, shaking his head.

He fluffs at his fringe before aiming his intent toward the monotone keys. It's so easy for him to get lost in the melodies that he weaves with his fingers. Even you can see how the world fades around him and you're not even doing anything.

"Yeah, not unscathed though. Banged my hip against my desk a few times." You thrust out your forearm under Sungjin's nose. "And do you see that, hmm? That's someone's fingers - their actual hand! I had no idea until yesterday how easily I could bruise."

Poor Dowoon looks a little guilty and you lunge out to swiftly remedy it. It wasn't his fault that he was so nice as to draw in all the girls. If you were a bit less in the clouds or nose to the ground you might have jumped on the bandwagon too.

"It's not your fault though, Dowoonie. They just think you're really great, and they're right. I don't know how you manage it, Younghyun."

He plucks at a chord, then crosses it out in his notes (still got your pen.) "I don't. But the kid needs help, so I do what I can. A thanks might be nice."

The phrase must come up a lot between them because all Dowoon does is roll his eyes and bare his scrunched smile, twirling his drumsticks in his nimble grasp.

You shrug on your blazer when you get out to the hallway, the windows of most classrooms open as they're cleaned out for the day. You jump at a particularly loud honk on the road and Wonpil giggles, his bag seeming too big for his gentle frame. Walking down the hall with the five of them can’t help but give you a vague feeling of warmth and familiarity, a little similar to the many nights spent sprawled out on Dani's cold floor with sugar running high in your systems. Jae walks next to you, his towering figure sways like a willow, shadowing you from the sunset.

"Okay, so Brian -"

"Young K!"

Jae rolls his eyes. "Yeah, Brian, saw my math marks the other day. Called me stupid!" He whirls, pointing a long finger behind him. "I'm older than you, you know! Respect your elders!"

"Shut up."

The bassist flicks some vaguely rude signal, which no one really bats an eye at. The elder of the two turns back to you, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his grey hoodie and pulling a face. You think back to the middle of last year when he got red paint all over his blazer, rendering it out of commission from then on out. Art class has never been the same.

"See what we had to put up with before you showed up? All the abuse! Anyway, so I'm stupid now. 62/100 - mum flipped. What did you get?"

You hang you head. "Yeah, not much better - 77. I'm so glad that mum knows about my thing for literature - I've never been good at numbers. She says as long as I marry someone who can do it, I'm smooth sailing."

You chuckle as Jae splutters into violent laughter, ricocheting off the walls as the sound races down the halls. Younghyun falls into step with you, ruffling his dark fringe.

"If you need help with math, I got 99/100." He says to you.

"Since when? And what about me?" Jae whines from your other side.

"Since none of your business. Jae, you have Soojung." Younghyun retorts simply.

It doesn't really explain much, seeing as you know for a fact that Jae and Soojung are in the same boat when it comes to the subject. So you laugh, curling your hand round the sleeve of your jacket to lightly whack your thigh. Grumbling some curses under his breath, Jae drops back to hassle Dowoon.

You don't speak of your surprise at Young K's marks. Nor of the faint confusion sitting in the back of your mind every moment he’s around. He just keeps shocking you, with no signs of stopping. You suppose you’ll just have to get used to it.

(you won't.)

#day6writersnet #day6 young k scenarios #day6 young k imagine #day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 fic #day6 #day6 young k #written

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idonthinkyoureadyforinformant · 4 years

Text

The fluorescent fixture on the ceiling above her head buzzed loudly, and sounded like a fly's futile efforts at escape against a closed window. Age revealed in their darkened ends, the long pair of luminous tubes flickered, and one of the bulbs burned dim orange rather than the bright white of its twin. Someone needed to replace the failing bulb and fix that annoying buzz, Mia thought.

Mia nervously waited in the dingy room, seated in an uncomfortable chair with her hands cuffed behind her back. Her mind raced. Were these handcuffs necessary? Couldn't the police see she was a respectable member of society? How could Josh be so stupid and get them both in this horrible mess? She had warned him about this, but as usual, he didn't listen. She was tired of having to mother him.

Mia loved her husband, Josh, and overlooked his many flaws. He was a talented high school science teacher at a prestigious private school, adored by his students and their parents alike. But Josh had concealed a minor blemish -- up until this point -- to his otherwise flawless portrait of a perfect citizen. Josh liked smoking marijuana a lot. Perhaps too much. With an academic background in botany, he also enjoyed applying his scientific knowledge to cultivating the illegal plant for his personal and recreational use.

While perfectly lawful to do in some states, Josh's activity was a felony punishable by up to 12-years prison where they presently lived. Josh had converted a small walk-in closet in their house into a grow room — the reason why they were both under arrest now, treated like common criminals, and why she was sitting here frightened and alone.

She wondered how the police found out. Did one of Josh's worthless pothead friends get busted and turn him in for a lighter sentence? Was it the helicopter she heard late one evening -- interrupting her peaceful sleep with its blades tearing through the cool night air -- equipped with a snooperscope that saw the heat on their roof from Josh's 1000-watt metal halide light? Maybe their electric consumption gave it away? What difference did it make now anyway? They were already in trouble.

"Wow, this one's a real looker," Detective Sanchez mumbled to her partner as she stared through the two-way mirror at the beautiful 24-year-old suspect she was about to interrogate.

"Yeah, they had eight plants growing hydroponically under a 1000-watt metal halide light. A small, sophisticated operation," the gruff voice of Detective Earl Noyse replied. Only a few ounces of smokable bud seized, but in typical police fashion, roots, stems and even the medium the plants grew in were weighed, greatly inflating the amount and the charges.

The door opened.

Sanchez entered the interrogation room, visually raking the gorgeous blond sitting at the old wooden table. The girl stared back at Sanchez with stunning blue eyes and silky blond hair that flowed past her shoulders in threads of gold as smooth as a sheet of water.

Mia watched the older, rather plain-looking woman walk toward her. Detective Sanchez wore her greying hair up in a tight bun and had what could be described as a slightly weathered, man-like appearance. She held a folder in her hand.

Sanchez slapped the folder down in front of Mia and dragged a wooden chair out from underneath the table. The heavy chair growled in a high-pitchl as it reluctantly slid across the floor.

Sanchez sat in front of Mia, her face an expressionless mask. "Seems like you and Josh have been busy entrepreneurs. Possession, manufacture and distribution of a Schedule I drug carries a pretty stiff penalty."

"I already explained all this to that other detective — Detective Nose."

"Noyse," Sanchez interjected.

Mia rolled her eyes. "Whatever his name is — Josh only grows it for personal use. He only had eight plants. How does that amount to manufacture and distribution?"

"Listen, dearie, we confiscated over 15 pounds of weed from your house. Both you and Josh are looking at felony records and 12 years in prison unless you cooperate."

Mia's voice rose higher with indignation. "There's no way those eight little plants equal 15 pounds. You can't charge us with that! I want to speak with an attorney."

Detective Sanchez was not going to tolerate Mia's uppity attitude. She needed to bring this young girl down a few notches.

Sanchez rose from her chair, her palms remaining flat on the table, her face now red and only inches from Mia as she leaned toward her and yelled. "Listen, sweetheart, you want to speak to an attorney? Fine! But then we're throwing the book at both of you. You can say good bye to each other and to your house, your car, and all those nice things you and Josh have acquired. He'll never work as a teacher again. His career and your futures will be ruined. I'll see to it!"

Mia felt Detective Sanchez' hot breath and spittle blast against her cheeks as the angry detective shouted into her face.

Sanchez sat down, resumed a calm demeanor and continued as if her previous rant never occurred. "Or you can cooperate with us. All of this can go away and your husband, Josh, can continue teaching. Otherwise, you're both looking at lengthy prison time away from each other. It's your choice."

Tears began flowing from Mia's eyes. "What do you mean, 'cooperate'? I don't even smoke marijuana, you can give me a drug test right now. I told Josh not to grow that stuff."

Mia spoke the truth. She very rarely used marijuana. It made her too paranoid and nervous, but Sanchez didn't care and wasn't buying anything Mia said. Bigger fish swam in the ocean of scum and Mia looked like perfect bait to catch them. "We have a big drug problem in this city, which you can help us solve. We know who distributes the drugs, but we need to find sources, who else is involved. We want to bust Reggie Johnson, but first we need to find out who he gets his drugs from."

Mia sniffled. "Who's Reggie Johnson?"

Was this girl serious or was she just playing stupid? How could she not know about Reggie Johnson? Everyone on the street, and part of the drug trade in this city, knew about Reggie Johnson, the high-ranking gangster responsible for murders, heinous crimes, and the area's rich supply of illicit drugs. Detective Sanchez was going to bring him down, and this hot young female was going to help her do it.

Mia's suburban life had sheltered her from the likes of Reggie Johnson. Her anonymity was perfect, and perhaps her ignorance was for the best too.

"Stand up for me," Sanchez barked.

"What?"

"Just do it and turn around."

Mia timidly rose from her chair, with her head down and shoulders hunched over in fear as she turned around.

"Stand straight!"

Mia's back straightened upon command. The baggy sweat pants she wore poorly concealed what could only be described as an incredibly tight and sexy ass from hours she had spent working out at the gym.

"You'll do just fine," Sanchez mumbled to herself as she studied the perfect curves of Mia's beautifully slender figure. She was exactly Reggie Johnson's type — young, white with perky c-cup tits and an hour glass figure; a gorgeous face with big blue eyes and silky blond hair.

*****************

They lived in a well-kept, modest sized home — the only house on a secluded street in an otherwise suburban area populated by soccer moms and dads who coached little league baseball on the weekends for their young children. An ideal place for kids of their own they planned to have soon. The yard was neatly trimmed and heavily shaded by two large oaks that reached over the house like two giant hands about to shake with each other.

Mia stood in the living room. "I have to do it, Josh. I'm sorry, but it's the only way. If I don't do this for them, they'll send us both to jail. You'll lose your job, have a felony record and never teach again. Why didn't you just listen to me? I told you not to grow that stuff and to stop smoking it."

Josh stared at her as she spoke, his face wearing his confusion. At 5' 10" tall and perhaps 145 pounds wet, he was never much of an athlete, his frame best described as wiry. How could the police suddenly send her off as an informant without any preparation? It didn't seem safe or right. "Well, where are you going?"

"I'm not sure," Mia answered. "Detective Sanchez didn't tell me yet."

Above his wire-framed glasses, his eyebrows now knitted together with concern. How could she not know where she was going? "When will you be home?"

Detective Sanchez hadn't told her that yet either. "I don't know."

"You're not sure; you don't know," Josh mimicked. "Well, what can you tell me?"

"Nothing — all Detective Sanchez told me is she needs me to find out about some guy named Ryan or something. I can't remember his name. I was so nervous."

"Oh that's just great. You don't know who this is, where you're going, what you'll be doing, or when you'll be back." Josh sat in his chair, crossed his arms, and pouted like an angry child. "You're not the five-o, Mia."

"I don't want to do it, Josh. But we don't have a choice."

A car horn honked for Mia from their driveway and Josh jumped from his chair.

Mia wrapped her arms around her husband, gave him a big hug and kiss. "Please, Josh, I have to go now. I'll call as soon as I can, but it may be a while. I'm not supposed to contact anyone I know while doing this."

Josh melted in her embrace and returned her hug. "I'm sorry Mia. You're right — this is all my fault. But I didn't mean to do this to us. The laws in this country are so fucked up. You know why they originally illegalized weed back in 1937?"

Mia shook her head.

"They thought black men used it to seduce white women. Isn't that ridiculous? It's all because of racism. And here we are in 2016 suffering the consequences of unjust laws based on bigotry."

The horn honked again.

"Please be careful and call me as soon as you can," Josh added.

Mia tore herself away from him. Josh followed her to the front door, where she grabbed her packed suitcase.

He stood at the doorway and unenthusiastically waved farewell as Mia entered an older Honda Accord Detective Sanchez drove.

***************

A man and woman shouted curse words at each other from the neighboring unit while their baby cried, and the sound of distant sirens drifted through the air.

"I don't want to wear this stuff," Mia complained, pulling down at the short, tightly-fitting mini skirt so it would cover more of her legs. "This is too short and I feel uncomfortable wearing a thong underneath it like this. Please let me put on something else."

"You're either going to do this and get the information I need, or I'll file those charges with the DA. What's it going to be? I'm getting tired of hearing you whine."

Mia didn't like any of this. Sanchez made her share this disgusting rat infested apartment in a bad inner-city neighborhood with some crack whore, and now she made Mia wear this slutty outfit. "Aren't you going to give me a wire or something?"

Sanchez believed Mia and her husband were low-life drug dealers. Small fry perhaps, but not much better than Johnson. Sanchez' only concern for Mia as her informant was in using her to catch Johnson, nothing more. To that end, she was expendable. Mia obviously didn't understand their working relationship yet. "You're an informant, not an undercover cop. Reggie Johnson will likely check you for a bug anyway. That's if you ever get near him. We can't risk him finding out that you're working for us."

"But it's been three days already. Please, I want to see my husband. When can I see Josh? I'm tired of hanging out at that stupid club with all those black men hitting on me all night. How am I supposed to make friends with this Reggie Johnson guy anyway and find out all this stuff for you? I haven't even seen him there yet."

Sanchez squinted her eyes and looked at Mia angrily. "That's your problem. Use your imagination. I'm sure a cute girl like you can put your good looks to use and figure something out, but you better do it quickly. The sooner you do, the sooner you can see Josh. The clock is ticking and you're running out of time. If you don't get me some information soon, I'll have you and Josh prosecuted and sent to prison."

"No, please don't do that. I'll get the information you want..."

While Detective Sanchez prepared Mia, her colleague, Detective Noyse, secretly met with Reggie Johnson.

Steel and glass skyscrapers contained fiery reflections of the setting sun like the surface of a calm sea. From Reggie's penthouse apartment, Noyse gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window at a breathtaking view of the city. "Funny how nice it all looks from way up here. It's only when you're actually on the ground and part of it that the filth and ugliness become apparent, I guess."

"It's on the desk," Reggie replied, finishing his last rep of bench presses. The muscles in his arms and chest looked like they were about to rip through his tight brown skin as he gritted his teeth.

Noyse placed a folder he had brought with him on the desk and picked up the thick envelope Reggie had left there for him. He opened the envelope and briefly thumbed through a stack of hundred-dollar bills it contained before quietly placing it inside his jacket pocket and returning to the view outside the window.

Reggie sat up from gym equipment in the middle of his expansive living room, and used a white towel hanging around his neck to wipe sweat from his face. He glanced at the closing stock prices running across the bottom of an enormous LED TV hung like a picture on the wall. He had made over $800K in the market today, he silently noted, pointing a remote control toward the set. The screen went black. "Anything I need to know?"

His six-pack abs noticeable, Reggie walked to the desk.

Noyse turned from the window. "You might want to look over the contents of that folder carefully. Sanchez is on a high horse again and she's after you and your suppliers. She recruited a new informant we busted a few days ago."

Reggie opened the folder containing Mia Warren's mug shot and arrest record. "Nice," he muttered out loud to himself, the picture less than flattering to Mia, but her beauty apparent to him anyway. He read through her report. "Hmm —married, 24-years-old, and no kids. Busted for growing weed. Tsk-tsk — naughty girl."

"The husband admitted it was his. She seems pretty straight-laced, but you never know these days."

Reggie looked up from the folder. "It's an election year. A sizable contribution to a certain incumbent's re-election campaign should take care of Detective Sanchez' investigation. In the meantime, I gotta check Mrs. Warren out. May wanna tap me some that fine white pussy. Keep that cute little informant preoccupied."

"The husband should appreciate that very much," Detective Noyse dryly replied.

Reggie returned Noyse's sarcasm with a grin. "That's what he gets for breaking the law, cutting into my business — and not doing it very well, I might add."

*************

From across a crowded, dimly lit dance club, her golden blond hair and beautiful skin stood out like headlights on a deserted road at night. Very few Caucasians frequented this establishment, and none of them had ever looked as good as her. Reggie studied how the softer features of her nose, eyes, and mouth accentuated her sharp cheekbones to produce the loveliest face. The tight miniskirt she wore only amplified an equally gorgeous figure that could easily belong to a supermodel and drew unwanted attention from practically every male in the joint.

Unaware of Reggie's presence, Mia stood by the bar watching some black couple dance next to her, the girl obscenely thrusting her pelvis into the guy's leg, oblivious it seemed to all else around her. An offensive rap song blasted, making even the floors and walls vibrate.

Mia hated this place, but Sanchez said this was Reggie Johnson's hangout, although he had not appeared here for the past three nights.

"Damn, you beautiful. Let me buy you a drink," she heard a voice say with a familiar African American accent. She was so tired of hearing that stupid accent and having to tell these ignorant black men that she was not interested. She rolled her eyes up and sighed. She had lost count of how many men had already hit on her this evening. She wanted to get out of this place and be with Josh. There was no way in Hell she would ever cheat on her husband or be with some nasty black guy.

Mia irritatedly turned around to tell whoever it was this time to buzz off and leave her alone.

Her eyes climbed up the muscular stature of an enormous black man, as if trying to find the top of a skyscraper. In the darkness, she somehow missed the monstrous bulge in his pants. She almost blew it, about to tell him to get lost like all the other inferior black men she had encountered this evening, before her eyes finally reached his face.

Mia suddenly realized that the gigantic man speaking to her was Reggie Johnson — the man she had been waiting for. He wore a Polo shirt and a thick gold necklace, grey silk slacks, and an expensive sports jacket. Diamond rings that looked big enough to sink the Titanic adorned his fingers.

Mia nervously forced a smile. Her opportunity finally arrived, yet her mind was blank as to what to say. "Hi," she managed to squeak out.

Reggie looked at the almost empty glass Mia held. "Whatcha drinking?"

Mia was not much of a drinker, and her tumbler contained remnants of ice water — the only substance she ever intended to consume here. But she remembered Detective Sanchez' threats — Josh's career in ruins, criminal records marring their future, 12 years in prison. Little time remained. She needed information about Reggie and his suppliers to give Sanchez. Too much was at stake to let her nerves get in her way now. This was her chance and she could not let it slip away. "I'll have whatever you're drinking."

Reggie turned to the bartender. "A Crown on the rocks for me and this lovely woman. Make 'em doubles".

The bartender briefly raised an eyebrow, thinking he might have misheard Reggie. The only thing Mia had ordered from him the past three nights was ice water. He proceeded to fill two tumblers with ice and generous amounts of the amber liquid without question. "Anything else, Mr. Johnson?"

Reggie gave him a fifty-dollar bill. "Not now. Keep the change."

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson."

Reggie handed Mia the glass. "Come on, let's sit somewhere quiet and talk."

They sat at a small table away from the music. Mia remained incredibly nervous. She quickly forced down the contents of her glass and felt fire form in her stomach.

"Wow, you really slammed that down. I ain't seen many women drink like that. I'll get you another. I don't want to drink by myself."

Mia stared blankly at him a moment as she waited for the fire in her gut to simmer. Although she rarely drank, she possessed the ability to hold her liquor well.

Reggie signaled a nearby server. "Bring my pretty friend here another double of Crown, on the rocks."

Mia began to feel the calming effects of alcohol she just consumed enter her bloodstream. "What's your name?"

"Reggie Johnson — and who, may I inquire, do I have the pleasure of meeting."

"I'm Mia."

"Where you from, Mia? I never seen you 'round here before. No way could I ever miss someone as beautiful as you."

She caught herself from almost fumbling the whole thing by telling him her real address. Mia's nervousness returned. She had forgotten the address where she was staying with the crack whore. "I just moved here — to a place on North 89th Street and Milton Avenue. Do you know the area?"

Ch. 2

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mylittledragonhoard · 6 years

Photo

Prompt: Imaginary Friends

AO3 Link

Warnings: Clowns

Part 1 of 2

Kili was five when he was forever traumatized and his deep rooted fear of clowns was planted.

The circus had been innocent enough – and it wasn’t like Kili had been screaming and crying the entire time…just half way through their visit when a clown had popped up out of nowhere to give both him and his older brother, Fili, a balloon animal each.

The poor clown, who apologized profusely the moment the small child began to wail, wasn’t even that scary looking. He wore a curly rainbow wig, and had the typical white face paint, red around his mouth, blue triangles drawn around his eyes, and a bright red nose that made Fili giggle ecstatically when the man made it honk.

He wasn’t scary, but to the sobbing five year old, he was terrifying.

Fili didn’t think so, and being a whole year older than Kili, thought the clown was awesome and his little brother was being a baby. He didn’t speak to Kili for the rest of the day because they’d had to cut their trip to the circus short since the little boy wouldn’t stop crying. That only made Kili more upset because Fili was his best friend and he didn’t like it when the older boy was mad at him.

Luckily, by the end of the day the fiasco at the circus had been forgotten and the two boys were laughing and playing together as always. Kili didn't even have any nightmares that night and the thought of clowns faded to the back of his mind to make room for better things.

Until two days later.

"Kili, love, please go tell your brother to wash up. Dinner's ready." Their mom requested as she helped Kili pack up his colouring book and crayons from the table. "And make sure you wash your hands too." She smiled and poked his nose before kissing the top of his head.

"Okay Mommy." He grinned as he slipped off his chair, taking his book and crayons with him as he scampered up the stairs to the room he shared with his brother.

As he got closer to the door, he heard Fili's giggling coming from inside. Curious as to what could have been so fun without Kili being there, the small child pushed the door open more and stepped inside.

His brother jumped up from the floor quickly and turned to stare at Kili with wide eyes before relaxing when he realized it wasn’t one of his parents.

"Mommy says dinner." Kili began, unsure why Fili would have startled like he had. His brother had been sitting in front of their closet and didn't even have any toys out, so he hadn't been doing anything wrong.

The blond let out a sigh that sounded relieved before he looked back toward the closet door. It was a wide closet with two sliding doors that ran along tracks built into the floor and the ceiling. The doors would fold to each side when pushed open and at that moment they were only open a few inches.

"It's only Kili." Fili seemed to be explaining, but clearly the only other person in the room was Kili, and Kili didn't need that explained.

Before he could ask, Fili was waving him over to the closet with an excited grin on his face. "Kili! Come meet Strings!"

Confused as to what his brother was talking about, Kili hesitantly joined him, colouring book and box of crayons held tightly against his chest. Had Fili brought home an animal?

"Who's Strings?" Kili wondered as he peered around and didn't see anything that stood out.

"He's my new friend." Fili explained and pointed to the closet. No, he wasn't pointing to the closet; he was pointing inside the closet. "He followed us home from the circus and wants to be our friend." Fili explained. "He's a clown - but not a scary one so you don't have to be afraid of him."

Kili immediately remembered the clown with the balloons and the terror he'd felt, and his insides turned to ice at the idea of a clown in their closet, in their room. But surely there wasn't really someone in there, right? His brother was making fun of him! "It's not funny, Fili!" He scowled to cover his fear, but even then there was a little hitch in his voice as his eyes burned with tears. Fear or anger; he was too young to tell. "There's no dumb clown in the closet!" He threw his book and crayons onto his bed to be taken care of later.

"Yes there is!" Fili insisted and crossed his arms, face set in a stubborn frown. Kili always knew when his big brother was lying – neither of them was very good at it, and this was not Fili’s lying face. "Fine. He didn't want to be your friend anyway." The older boy huffed and turned away from Kili before stomping toward the door. "I'll be back later so we can play more, Strings." He promised before finally leaving the room.

It took Kili a couple of seconds to realize he'd been left alone, and though he was sure his brother had just been trying to scare him, he wasn't taking a chance and fled the room right after him.

Their father checked the closet that night before they went to sleep, moving clothes and toys to make sure he was as thorough as he could be.

Fili sat in his bed glaring at Kili the entire time, arms crossed over his chest and blue eyes colder than Kili had ever seen them.

Their father announced that the closet was monster free and both boys were tucked in and kissed goodnight.

As Kili snuggled down under his covers, he couldn't help but throw at his grumpy brother, "Told you there was no clown in the closet."

He heard Fili snort in the dark. "Of course not. He didn't want to be caught so he's been hiding under your bed."

Kili wasn’t able to sleep that night.

After that the small boy found himself playing by himself more and more as Fili wanted to play more with his new friend than his boring baby brother. Kili thought Fili was the boring one since he only ever wanted to play in front of the stupid closet instead of going outside and finding frogs and bugs to play with like they usually did.

At first the younger boy was upset that Fili didn’t want to play with him unless they both played with Strings, but there was no way he wanted to play with a clown. Imaginary or not.

Both their parents assured him that Fili would eventually get tired of his imaginary friend and want to play with Kili again, so Kili held onto that hope and continued to play on his own all the while fiercely missing his best friend.

There was no way Kili could have known that he was about to lose what was most important to him.

Whispering woke him up one night when their room was still dark and he couldn’t see a thing. Half asleep, he lay beneath his warm blankets and listened, wondering if he was just dreaming the sounds. Nothing happened for a few minutes, so the boy began to drift off again.

Until, “But what about Kili?”

It was Fili, words spoken in the lowest whisper the six year old could manage.

For a few seconds Kili could have believed that his brother was just talking in his sleep, but then he heard that whisper, and that was not Fili.

“But...he’s my best friend.” Fili responded, voice reluctant and a little sad. “I don’t want to leave him…”

There were more whispers and the longer Kili had to listen to them, the more his hairs stood on end. His body seemed so cold it was frozen where it had been snug and warm just a few moments ago.

“Promise we can come back and play with him?” Fili was asking, resigned. “…okay then. Let’s go!”

And then there was the familiar sound of the closet door sliding open, and then shuffling across the floor.

Kili didn’t know how he knew, but he knew it was Fili moving inside, and despite his fear, he couldn’t let his brother go anywhere. He gathered all the courage he could to try and move, a cry already falling from his mouth as he finally flung his covers away. “FILI NO!” He screamed so loudly that it covered the sound of the closet doors slamming together as they closed.

The sound of their parents rushing to the room came only moments later, and the door was opened and the light was turned on.

“Kili? What’s wrong sweetheart?” Their mother was beside him in an instant, pulling him into her arms as she tried to calm his sobbing.

“Where’s your brother?” Their father asked prompting Kili to look over at the bed he already knew was empty. Fili’s covers had been flung to the side and the impression his body had made in the mattress and pillow were still visible. This made the young boy choke on his sadness as he buried his face in his mother’s shoulder. He pointed a shaky hand at the closet, unable to explain.

“Is he trying to scare you again?” Their father frowned as he stepped toward the doors. “Fili, this isn’t funny. If you don’t come out here this instant and apologize to your brother, you’re grounded!” He waited a moment before growing impatient and flinging open the closet doors.

Kili knew that Fili wouldn’t be stepping out or apologizing, and he knew what they’d find when those doors were thrown open.

Nothing.

Because Fili was gone.

#durin drabble spooktacular #halloween fiki 2017 #my writing #I'm really proud of this one X3

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luxvitae · 7 years

Text

It’s Us | Namjoon

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Good news: you went into labor. Bad news: where the fuck is your husband?

“It’s four in the goddamn morning I wanna go home”, Taehyung whined, head hitting the surface of the soundboard with a hollow ‘thud’.

“I’ve been here since yesterday”, Yoongi said, glaring at the back of the younger’s head, “Feel blessed you piece of shit.”

“One more time Jungkook. Try to accent the first beats a little more this time”, Namjoon said into the recording booth, starting the backtrack all over again.

Jimin and Hoseok were already out cold on the couch facing the booth, Seokjin about ready to drop dead. All seven had been in the studio since seven the night before, recording over and over again to get the parts just right. Their producer had already left for the night, but Yoongi and Namjoon wanted to keep going. They said there was already a flow, something they weren’t sure would come back if they had started up again in the next session.

“Hyung don’t you have a pregnant wife to attend to?”, Jimin had whined when they were all forced to stay in the studio together.

Yes, Namjoon did have a pregnant wife to attend to, but he knew that you were more than capable of looking after yourself, especially with your sister and himself just a call away to help if something went wrong. Which is why, as the leader, he locked all the members in the studio with the goal of rough recording all the songs that were going to hopefully be on the new album.

“Guys one more chorus and we can go home”, Namjoon called, hearing Jimin wake up immediately, choking on the snore he was half way through.

“Seriously?”, he asks, shooting up when he saw the older nod, hitting awake Hoseok and Seokjin next to him.

“One more chorus you nutsacks then we can go home. Lead the way daddy-o”, Jimin said loudly, marching straight into the booth, pushing Jungkook to the side.

It had been a running joke in the past eight and a half months, calling Namjoon daddy. It was disgusting and cringeworthy and wrong sounding in every possible way, but the way his ears turn red is entertaining enough for all the boys to enjoy.

Halfway into the chorus, Yoongi gets a phone call, interrupting the session. All the boys groan at the noise signifying that they’re recording that section all over again. From the top. Leaving the room to answer the call, the boys start up again, Namjoon taking over the sound board.

The chorus was going smooth, just the way Namjoon needed it to go so he could dismiss everyone to go home, but when they were almost done, Yoongi burst into the room with wild eyes, clutching his phone in his hand.

“Namjoon we gotta go”

You were having the time of your life, believe me, you were. It was four in the morning, Hoseok had rerouted the wifi signal so it was perfectly strong by the couch, the cord for your phone charger was long enough so you could lay down, and you had just finished the first of four half frozen peanut butter pop tarts that surrounded you while Safety, you and Namjoon’s German Shepherd, laid his head in your lap. It was eight and a half months into your pregnancy and yeah, you were getting close to your due date, but judging from the doctor’s appointment you went to last week, there was nothing to do but wait

“Hi baby”, you cooed, rubbing your belly slowly but gently, smiling as Safety just nuzzled his nose against the bump.

“Everyone’s waiting for you to come out. Daddy’s working really hard so he can stay with us for a little bit. All your uncle’s are excited”, you whispered even if you didn’t need to; no one else was in the house anyway. But whispering had felt more personal, like you had a stronger connection to the little being inside of you.

The gender reveal had yet to happen, but you and Namjoon agreed that you would wait until the little nugget is born before finding out what the sex was. Of course you had your preference whether it was a boy or a girl, but as you caressed your stomach, you didn’t find it in yourself to care. Boy or girl, you and Namjoon are going to love them just the same.

Your husband of one year wasn’t home yet, knowing he was working hard at the studio with the boys. Their comeback was soon approaching and when that was done, he was to be given a break since you would've gave birth by then. Of course, you didn't mind. You loved that Namjoon took both the boys and his family into consideration when planning with their CEO.

Reruns of old Friends’ episodes had began playing just as you were starting to doze off. The baby was suspiciously calm under your touch, but you couldn’t complain. If it meant getting a decent power nap in for the first time in a few months, you were down.

It wasn’t until Safety started to whine loudly and the first wave of pain washed over you that you realized your water had broke.

Widening your eyes, you looked at Safety who pushed your phone to you.

“It’s baby time”

The studio was in chaos as soon as Yoongi broke the news. Seokjin ran off to get the car, Yoongi was rushing to save all the recordings they did today, Hoseok called all the managers and Namjoon’s parents, while the three youngest were in charge of cleaning up and gathering the things Namjoon keeps at the studio in case the day came when they were there. And it just so happened they were.

“Jungkook move your fat ass out of the way!”

“Where the fuck is the fucking car keys I swear to god I’m gonna kill whoever hid it-”

“STOP TOUCHING THE SOUND BOARD IF YOU DON’T WANNA BE HERE ANOTHER TEN HOURS TOMORROW

“Taehyung get the fucking bag-”

“The bag is in the fucking car-”

“The bag is in the closet you dumbfucks

“Namjoon don’t just stand there!”

The leader couldn’t help it. His wife, the beautiful woman he loved so much, was going to give birth to your first child.

You were giving birth.

YOU WERE GIVING BIRTH

“HOLY SHIT I’M ABOUT TO BE A DAD”, Namjoon yelled, almost knocking over one of Yoongi’s stupid Yankee candles he lights whenever he’s working on something.

“No fuck”, Jimin said sarcastically, pushing the older out the door and through the hall since he was deemed incapable of walking on his own fast enough.

“I’m about to be a father!”, Namjoon said, his big brain shouting it over and over in his head until he made himself dizzy.

“Alright daddy get into the car”, the younger said as soon as Seokjin pulled up with the van, all six boys trying to get into the car all at the same time.

“Does everyone had their seatbelts on-”

“SEOKJIN FUCKING DRIVE”

“CUT THE ATTITUDE JUNG HOSEOK”

“Y/n, honey, you have to breath properly okay? You’re not going to help anyone if you hyperventilate”, your sister said, trying to calm you down as the contractions started to get worse.

“I want- I want my- ahh- I want my h-husband”, you breathed out, letting little screams leave your mouth as another wave hit you.

The ride to the hospital with your sister was not a helpful one, especially when the older was someone who had failed the road test a total of seven times before getting her license. You couldn’t believe the time had come; you weren’t expecting it in the least. The week before, you just had a doctor’s appointment to check on the progress of the baby and the due date wasn’t until for another week or so.

“I know, I know sweetie. He’s on his way with all the boys, but he’s coming from the studio, he’s not going to be here for another twenty minutes”, your sister said, grimacing when you squeezed her hand a little too tight.

The contractions were starting to get more frequent, each one having about five seconds between to let you breathe, but that was almost impossible. It was so painful; feeling like someone was splitting you in half from the inside out.

The doctor came in after ten minutes, checking up on you and how much you dilated to determine if you were ready to start pushing, but you didn’t want to start until Namjoon was by your side. Each contraction was overlapping now, not giving you any time to think about how fucking painful it was. Sweat had rolled down your face and around your neck, the nurse wiping it off when she had the time to.

“Breathe, y/n, breathe”, your sister said, breathing herself to get you to follow her, but you couldn’t. Your mind was clouded with pain as the doctor administered more epidural.

“Mrs. Kim, I think you’re ready to start pushing”, the doctor said, glancing under the sheet to see you fully dilated.

“No”, you grunted, “I’m AHHHH I’m not pushing until my husband is her- AHHHH”

“Is there any other way to get there?!”, Yoongi yelled, honking the horn into the traffic for Seokjin who was busy trying to look up other routes they could take.

“Oh my god. Oh My God. OH MY GOD. I NEED TO BE AT THE HOSPITAL RIGHT.NOW.”, Namjoon yelled, the panic and excitement getting the best of him as he rolled down the window and yelling at the car in front of them.

Just as he was rolling the window back up, his phone rang, his sister in law’s name flashing.

“Hello-”

“NAMJOON SHE’S READY TO START PUSHING WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU DUMMIES”, your sister yelled, Namjoon grimacing and pulling the phone away from his ear.

“We’re stuck in traffic trying to get there- wait. SHE’S READY TO PUSH?! ALREADY?!”, the older yelled into the phone, causing Hoseok to jump in his seat.

“Seokjin-”, Jungkook called, warning the older to either hurry the fuck up or they’ll all die in the car from too much carbon dioxide from Namjoon’s heavy breathing.

“I swear to god Kim Seokjin if you don’t hurry up-”

“FOUND IT”

“OH MY-”

“-GOD WHERE THE FUCK IS MY HUSBAND”, you screamed, holding your sister’s hand a little too tight for comfort from the pain you were going through.

Even if you didn’t want to push just yet, baby didn’t really want to wait for daddy. But holy crap, if you knew how much pain that was actually going to be, you probably would’ve mentally prepared yourself a little better.

“Breath. Breathe sweetie breathe”, you sister coached, not bothered by your iron grip on her own hand.

“Mrs. Kim, you need to start pushing the baby won’t be able to withstand the pressure”, the doctor said, positioning herself between your legs to administer another shot of epidural for you.

“My husband-”

“Y/n, Namjoon will be here soon, but you have to start pushing”, your sister said seriously next to you, only being able to see her eyes behind the mask she had to wear.

“Okay”, you said breathlessly, the sweat and tears mixing together as you finally listened to the doctor and started to push.

“Okay here’s the plan”, Seokjin said, the hospital finally in sight, “Yoongi and Hoseok takes Namjoon to the room, Taehyung and Jungkook is reserving seats for the seven of us in the waiting room, Jimin is waiting for me in the lobby to park the car, and Namjoon you’re getting the fuck into that room, okay? Alright great”

Once the light turned green, Seokjin stepped on the gas, turning into the hospital drop off area. In a record time of three seconds, all six men were out of the car, dragging bags and each other through the doors.

Namjoon, on the other hand, was the first one out of the car, into the lobby, and at the reception, your name ready to roll off his tongue before even reaching the counter.

“My wife- giving birth- Kim”, the older said breathlessly, already positioning himself to start running when the man told him the room number.

“Kim y/n?”

“Yes. Yes Kim y/n c’mon man my wife is giving birth you gotta be faster than this”

“Delivery room 34”

Taking off in the first direction he saw, Namjoon zoomed through the hospital, trying to avoid obstacles the best he could.

“NAMJOON DELIVERY ROOMS ARE THIS WAY”

“I’m gonna kill him AHHHHHH when he gets here”, you screamed, having pushed three times already.

The pain was excruciating; having to push a body out of your own. But the only thing you could think of was the fact that this body, this being, is yours and Namjoon’s. It’s your baby to love and protect. But damn if Namjoon really wasn’t here in the next two seconds you were going to flip the table you were laying on. There was no way you were going to let him miss the birth of your first child. Not when it was this painful.

Just as the doctor was counting to three again for another push, the door of the delivery room opened and in scrambled a flustered Namjoon still trying to tie the hospital scrubs and the hair cap between his teeth.

“Namj-”

“Push!”

You screamed as you pushed on impulse, feeling the crown of the baby’s head breach and you swear under your breath because holy shit this baby took on Namjoon’s big head.

“Why are you just standing there?! Get over here!”, you hear your sister yell at your husband as the waves of pain somewhat decrease.

“I'm not sure I want to”, Namjoon said, voice shaky from hearing your screams of pain.

“What are you-”

“KIM NAMJOON GET OVER HERE OR SO HELP ME I WILL SAW OFF YOUR DICK SO WE DON’T HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS AGAIN”

Being at your side in the blink of an eye, he grabbed your hand from your sister’s hold only to regret it. You clamped onto his hand, the other running through your hair as you breathed heavily.

“Baby we’re having a baby”, he whispered in your ear and if you weren't being told to push a small being out of your vagaina, then you would've choked up.

You were having a baby. You and Namjoon were having a baby. This baby is the creation of you and Kim Namjoon. Holy crap. This baby is 110% you and Namjoon. This baby is your future with your husband who you love so much.

“Namjoon”, you wheezed, feeling lightheaded from all the effort pushing took out from you, “It hurts so much. I don’t think I can-”

“No no no. Love, no. C’mon you can do this. I’m right here”, he said, kissing the top of your head repeatedly as your chest rose and fell in quick intervals.

“You’re going great Y/n, just one more push”, the doctor encouraged, all the nurses rushing around you to get the towels and the portable crib.

It felt like you were surrounded in a sea of pain; the baby’s shoulders expanding your vigina way more than you felt comfortable. You couldn’t feel anything other than the pain. Just when you were thinking of giving up and going into a forced c-section, Namjoon squeezed your hand tighter than it was around his own, stroking your head in peaceful intervals. He kissed your head and wiped your sweat from your face, and at that moment you knew. This baby, this child, is your family now, and there was no way someone, even yourself, was going to take that away from you.

So, with a huge gulp of air and a squeeze from Namjoon’s hand, you closed your eyes and pushed with all the effort you could muster from the fours hours you had been in labor. The fuzzy feeling in your head came back from the strain, but you didn’t stop. You weren’t going to stop until the baby was born. So you held your breath and pushed harder than you could comprehend, bringing Namjoon’s hand to your chest as you curled into yourself in attempts to gather more strength.

“Just a little more y/n. Come on you got this”, you heard your sister say next to you.

It wasn’t until you heard the shrill cry of a newborn baby that you realized it was all over. Falling back against the bed, you breathed heavily, eyes still closed, ready to pass out from exhaustion, but the sinking of reality stopped you. The baby was born. You and Namjoon had another addition to your family. That fact alone was enough to have you shed tears of happiness mixing with the tears from the pain.

“Sweetie, you did it”, Namjoon said, his own tears mixing with yours as he pressed a quick peck on your forehead, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Date of Birth: March 28, 2019 at 8:16 am at 19 inches and 8 pounds. Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Kim, you gave birth to a healthy baby boy”, the doctor beamed at the two of you, wiping the excess blood from the tiny body.

“Mr. Kim, would you like to cut the umbilical cord?”

Namjoon looked at you with excited eyes, but a film of fear over them. You just smiled tiredly, nodding your head to encourage him to go. He didn’t want to hurt you, but as he took the scissors from the nurse’s hands and positioned it right in the middle of the cord, he choked up all over again, taking a peek at his new son.

You were out like a light before Namjoon could even cut the cord, all the pushing and anesthetics wearing you out more than you were physically used to. Originally, you had feared falling asleep and missing out on the chance of naming the baby for two reasons: 1) you were missing the second important part of any birth and 2) there was no way in hell you were trusting Namjoon (Kim Namjoon of all people) to give a name to a baby much less his own.

“Mr. Kim, would you like to name him now or wait until your wife wakes up?”, one of the nurses asked as your son was being transported from the delivery room to the nursery to be cleaned.

Namjoon just smiled, knowing you were scared of him naming the baby on his own, but he had a great name up his sleeve that he knew even you would approve of.

“Kim Hyunwoo. His name is Kim Hyungwoo.”

“Hey guys”, Namjoon greeted tiredly, exiting the delivery room to see the boys asleep uncomfortable positions on the plastic waiting room chairs.

Shooting awake at the sound of their leader’s voice, all six of them were up and at him in less than a minute, their excited gazes overriding the need for sleep.

“How’d it go?”

“Is sister-in-law okay?”

“How’s the baby?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“What’s the name?”

“Size?”

“STOP”, Namjoon said loudly, looking at all the member’s expecting gazes with a smug look.

“It’s a boy”

All at once, the boy’s voices were loud and overlapping, all of them wondering if the new baby was named after them.

“Is he named after me?”, Hoseok asked, shaking Namjoon’s arm to get his attention above all the other boys who wanted to know the same thing.

The older just frowned playfully. “Why would my precious child be named after any of you idiots?”

“What’s his name then?”

“Kim Hyunwoo”

“HYUN IS CLOSE ENOUGH TO HYUNG”

“Taehyung shut up”

Staring through the big window that overlooked all the newborn babies in the nursery, Namjoon just smiled to himself as he spotted his son resting peacefully in one of the small beds. He definitely had your rosy cheeks and cheekbones from what the new dad could tell from so far away.

“Take a good look now before he starts to grow up”, a voice said behind him, Yoongi’s arm coming across to rest on the younger’s shoulder. “How’s it feel?”

Namjoon just lightly, tears slowly clouding his eyes. “It’s so surreal. It feels as if just yesterday I was getting married to the woman of my dreams and all of a sudden we’ve built a family. It feels like a dream that I wouldn’t mind not waking up from.”

Yoongi just smiled at him, feeling the happiness radiating off of his skin. It had been a long journey for both you and Namjoon; Yoongi could definitely admit to that, but he was proud of the both of you. Not only was Namjoon the first one of them to settle down, but he was the first member of BTS. He was the one that made what all seven of them were today, and Yoongi felt more than pride in seeing his leader, no, brother so happy. He deserved it.

Just as Yoongi was about to walk back to the waiting room to join the other boys in a hospital cafeteria food breakfast, Namjoon stopped the him.

“Hyung I- Y/n and I were wondering if... if you would be Hyunwoo’s godfather?”, Namjoon said, looking at him with a hopeful smile.

Pulling the younger into a tight hug, Yoongi ignored the prickling feeling in the back of his eyes and just playfully sneered at him.

“Of course I’ll be his godfather you assnugget”

Of all the things you have woken up to, nothing could compare to waking up and seeing a nervous Namjoon next to an equally nervous nurse as your husband picked up your son for the first time.

An unconscious smiled tugged at your lips as the nervousness was slowly replaced by amazement as Namjoon looked down at the baby and saw himself in him. The cute little button nose and the wide eyes looking up at his father in wonder; you felt at ease seeing your son’s tiny hands wrapped around Namjoon’s finger.

“Hi baby”, you heard him say softly once the nurse left to give him some alone time, “my name is Namjoon. I’m your dad. It’s nice to meet you Kim Hyunwoo. You gave mommy a little bit of a hard time these last few hours, but you just wanted to meet her, huh? You look just like mommy, so beautiful. And you’re going to grow strong and tall one day, but mommy and daddy are going to be right beside you, to protect you and to love you”

Looking over to where you lay, he met your eyes in a soft gaze and slowly walked over to your bedside as you pushed yourself up to meet him halfway, your husband adding a little bounce in his step to keep the baby calm.

“Alright Hyunwoo, time to meet mommy. Show off that charm daddy gave you”, Namjoon said playfully, transferring the baby into your arms.

Seeing your son for the first time felt like the wind was knocked out of your lungs, his whole being was breathtaking. You could see how he resembled both you and Namjoon and you couldn’t help but get a little teary as your son, Hyunwoo, opened his bright eyes and reached for your face with his tiny baby hands. Namjoon, smiling at the first meeting of mother and son, just sat next to you on the bed, wrapping you up in a warm embrace that made you even more emotional.

“Hi Hyunwoo I’m mommy”, you greeted through watery giggled, your own hand coming up to gently meet his, “It’s nice to meet you.”

a/n: so i didn’t realize tumblr unlinked and deleted this post so here it is again LOL

-M♡♡

#reup #namjoon #namjoon scenario #namjoon imagine #rap monster #rap monster scenarios #rap monster imagine #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts #bangtan boys #pjay writing

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amyrose13 · 5 years

Text

Meowtron Mayhem Ch. 1

Hey, so uhh, I realized that there aren't much VLD Animal AU around so I decided to make one. First time making one though, but I absolutely LOVE Voltron and all of the characters. So I apologize if I don't quite catch their characters pretty well. Anyways, here it is!

Chapter 1: KITTY SQUAD SURPRISE

You were really on the verge on tearing out the roots of your hair at this very moment.

So this morning, you woke up late for school since you forgot to alarm your clock for a very important quiz on your (Least fav. subject) that just so happens to be the first subject on the first class period, missing your time to have breakfast since you only had enough time for your daily shower. And then, because that you had forgotten your textbook on said subject on your way towards the school bus stop, you made a run back to your house to get that annoying item back.

Thus, missing the freaking bus, and as well as your quiz after spending a good fifty minutes long run towards the school.

Only for the school gates to be closed by the you had reached it.

So you decided to go home, and maybe buy something to eat so your stomach wouldn't complain about the lack of food fuel. But then you stopped after reaching for a void space in your pocket where your wallet is supposed to be.

Two heartbeats later, and you realized that you had forgotten your wallet. Back. Home.

"SONOFA—"

For the sake of keeping this story's maturity rate up to only a good K to T, we will be using gentle curse words and censored words for the little children.

So after cursing your vocal chords to the heavens for the extreme bad luck, you walked/stomped back to your house, since you couldn't pay for your bus communion fee like usual with the lint in your pocket. And you were emitting a huge wave of dark energy, being hungry, agitated and irritated beyond everything in every moment of it all.

"Could this day get any worse?" You grumbled, walking down the pedestrian lane after getting the okay sign for you to walk the street.

Then there was a sudden loud honking of a vehicle, forcing your head to whirl at your right in shock and instinctively taking a huge step backward—

—Only for a motorcycle to whizz past you and splashing water on your face from the puddle that he had ACCIDENTALLY had on his way.

"For. The. Love. Of...!" Fuming at the rider who had increased your bad karma by 24%, you screamed your head at him, "THE LIGHTS WERE RED, NUMBSKULL!"

So there you are.

Walking back home, happily skipping on your feet with water soaked on your uniform. Loving it.

You were scowling so deep that you could have that expression etched on your face forever as you walked up towards your front porch. And this moment, you were ready to change back into your comfortable house clothes and flop back into your bed to watch some movies. Probably check out if there was any updation on Big Hero 6 The Series's second season.

When you stopped dead on your tracks after seeing something laid down on your front doorstep.

A box.

[Seriously?] You thought irritatedly, taking deep breathes to try and calm yourself. [Don't tell me Mr. Paul's delivery service made a mistake on the address again.]

Yeah, you had a common occurence when your neighbor's package delivery had a mixup with the package service pretty often. Random memory: there was this one time when you had been waiting for a package of the PS4 that you had ordered online and opened up a package by accident, which turns out that there was a mixup of the exchanged addresses between your neighbor and the delivery service.

The contents of the wrong package was... well, to put it plainly, you had a bad trauma after seeing it.

But it was pretty much your own fault and stupidity of NOT checking the box properly.

Anyways, so you were about to pick it up when the box moved.

It. Moved.

A bit stunned, you slowly poked the box with the tip of your shoe.

It shook again.

And this time, you heard what seems to be a tiny mewl.

"Don't tell me..." you trailed off. Quickly fishing out your house key that was on your combination-locked mail slot, you opened the door and knelt down to carry the box. A chorus of meows and shuffling inside gave you the clear idea that there were cats in the box.

Thankfully, the box had tiny holes on them for the little litter to breathe in so you weren't worried of dead animals inside.

Closing the door behind you, you walked into your living room and put down the box on top on the table. You ripped off the tape that kept the box flaps closed and lo, and behold, five pairs of feline eyes stared at you.

And you had to keep your jaw away from dropping to the ground, because.... well, to put it simply, you were starstruck by the cuteness overload.

"Whoa..." you could only gaped in disbelief.

They all looked at you and scampered to the edge of the box, meowing and hissing in trying to intimidate you, with the seemingly oldest of the litter in front of them like it was protecting the others since it was crouching low on all fours—wait, no. Not four. Three.

You did a double-take when you saw that the oldest feline had a missing stump where a leg supposed to be. And almost immediately, your heartstrings were violently tugged as your heart told you to take them in. Now.

First step, you have to earn their trust. Right now, they are literally going to scratch your eyes out if you try to grab them without proving that you're a good person.

"Hey, it's alright," You gently cooed, reaching your hand out in front of them to show that you meant no harm to them. "I won't hurt you, I promise." For good measures, you made a reassuring smile at them.

Five minutes passed by as you patiently waited for a reaction out of the five felines, until one of them decided to make the first step.

The one who approached you first padded with an imaginary air of flourishing confidence and stood on its hind legs with its front legs clinging against the edge of the box as it leaned up as close as it can to you. Then you heard a loud rumbling sound from its throat, and you blinked your (eye color) eyes in surprise.

Did.... did it just purred at you?

You blinked in baffled surprise as the feline purred at you before it affectionately rubbed its head against your hand.

A small snort of amusement escaped your lips and you moved your palm on its head, caressing its head gently with the tips of your fingers.

"Well, aren't you the little flirt, huh?" You teased, elating the cat to meow happily in reply.

The next one to come forward seemed to be the smallest and the youngest out of the bunch. It looked like its had just finished its kitten stage and had just began its junior age. And it had white and light orange fur that seemed to almost hidden its short legs, but it does go along with its tiny ears, round head, pinkish short snub nose and its big round green eyes.

It stared at you curiously and meowed, sniffing the air in front of you. A bit confused and hesitant, you slowly reached your other hand out to it. The young kitty seemed to be a bit slow as it carefully inspected your hand before sniffing it. Then it moved its head eagerly and made a small lick on one of your fingers before it licked the rest of it while mewling quietly in a cute manner. You laughed softly at the ticklish sensation and gently ran a smooth hand down its spine, and the kitty arched into your palm with a small rumble. Seems like it likes it.

It turned its head to one of her companions and meowed, almost giving you the idea that it was giving them the all clear signal that you were safe. Then one of them hesitantly approached you next.

The third feline that had padded towards you my attention was the one with mocha brown furred and cinnamon-colored eyes. It looked like around its prime age, and was nervously looking at you like you planned on eating it for lunch.

Huh, weird.

"Hey, boy." You cooed, clicking your tongue as you gently reached out a hand towards it.

It shrunk back warily and that made you stop mid-way. However, he carefully sniffed your hand before it proved that you were a good person and licked your hand in a shy manner.

Well, you got your approval.

Soon enough, you got them to warm up to you as much as they can.

The oldest feline of the bunch who had black fur except for his head that had some white and his paws as well, deemed you to be a friendly stranger and purred lowly as you reached a hand out to him and scratched the male behind his left ear.

You gently and carefully placed each one of them down on your carpeted floor, watching in interest and curiosity of how they'll adjust to their new home.

The oldest feline, which you will call him Shiro because of the white tufts of fur on his head, sat down on his rear as he looked at his surroundings before he looked at you. He gave you a cattish look resembling of a person wondering what to do next.

Then the burly cat of the bunch backed away and smack against the woodest post of your flower vase table, yowled in surprise and fell onto its back. You snickered, watching him trying to get back standing on his paws while looking like a turtle. Meanwhile, the youngest of the litter was curiously padding on the hem of your curtains.

All in all, you have a good feeling about them.

"Well, you guys looked like a friendly bunch, huh?" You mused, smiling at the three of them.

But then you jolted in surprise when the first cat from earlier suddenly yowled loudly in aggression as he smacked a black furred cat with strange purplish eyes. Said cat didn't liked the sudden violence and hissed angrily as he pawed the feline back.

"Hey, hey—Hey! You two, stop!" You exclaimed, quickly tugging the two apart by the scruff of their necks. You glared sternly at them, not liking their attitudes. "There will be no roughhousing between you two while you guys are here. Is that clear?"

The glare that you gave them meant serious business. And the two of them stared at you, with their ears slowly flattened against their heads like they were disappointed by their actions.

Seeing that they aren't going to fight anymore, you then placed them back down on the ground.

You sighed to yourself, running a hand through your hair. Well, as far as you know, the next best thing to do for them is to take care of them, right? Easy-peasy.

Probably.

So. Yeah. There.

Oh, these are the cat breeds that I thought up for each of our favorite Paladins:

Keith (Russian Blue)

Lance (Somali)

Hunk (Persian)

Shiro (Ragamuffin)

Pidge (Exotic Shorthair)

Now I first thought of Keith as a Ragamuffin cat at first, but when I looked up Russian Blue cats, I found out that they are the "stranger-danger" type before they cozy up to whoever they meet after a few days, give or take. Anyways, if I can—and if you guys like to—I will start on Chapter 2 soon.

:))

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