#or me rushing to an appointment and then waiting in the reception area where the not-so-nice office lady is watching me

[thescreaminghat]

two moods in the dungeon

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #laios touden #senshi #laios #my last two braincells #or me rushing to an appointment and then waiting in the reception area where the not-so-nice office lady is watching me #theyre so funny to me

[leiamorgainedelalune]

Bring Me to Life

A Dark AU Multifandom/OC Erotica Story

Mafia Princess #2

Prologue

Author's Note

Characters from other fandoms appear such as Ari Levinson, Ransom Drysdale, and Lloyd Hansen but Andy Barber is the man focus. This chapter contains pregnancy loss from self induced abortion, some mild physical violence towards women, discussing of sex trade/prostitution, organized crime, forced sex work, other types of abuse, etc. This is a very mature story so I highly advise that minors DNI. The italic lyric sections are from the song posted at the beginning of the chapter. You can also get the song info from the playlist. - Leia

So go on and scream, scream at me

I'm so far away (So far away)

I won't be broken again (Again)

I've got to breathe

I can't keep going under

Andy Barber had spend the day in his office piecing together evidence on a case when the phone on his desk, breaking his concentration.

"Andy Barber," He answered quickly.

"Mr. Barber, I'm calling from Newton General Hospital," replied the feminine voice on the other end. "It's about your wife, Laurie."

"Do I need to get over there?"

"The Doctor believes that would be best."

"I'll be right there."

Laurie was six months pregnant with their first child. They'd been married close to a year now. To say he was worried was an understatement. He left his office without hesitation and rushed over to the hospital. He walked straight up to the reception desk frantically to know where to go.

"Excuse me. I'm Andy Barber," he spoke, practically out of breath. "I was told my wife Laurie is here."

The receptionist typed quickly before responding, "She's in surgery, but the maternity waiting area is on the third floor."

"Thank you."

Andy went to the elevator and selected the third floor. He walked off when it stopped and looked for the waiting room, which didn't take him long to find. He found a lonely seat in the corner and took it. He wasn't fond of sitting and waiting but it was better than pacing a hole in the floor. His mind racing. What the bell could have possibly happened to Laurie and their unborn baby? She told him everything was perfect at the last appointment since he was forced to miss it due to being in court. There has been nothing wrong at any of the other appointments and everything at home seemed fine. He wasn't sure what to think or even feel as his face feel into his hands. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he finally heard the name "Barber" called from the doorway. He practically jumped from where he sat when he stood up and had to resist the urge to run to the doorway. He did walk a little faster than normal until he reached the figure in the doorway.

"Mr. Barber?" The male doctor questioned.

"I'm Andy Barber," He answered.

"I'm Dr. Weston. Please come with me."

Andy followed the doctor into the hallway and waited for him to speak. He took in a deep breath, as he was unsure what he was about to hear.

"Mr. Barber, I want to start out with your wife is fine," Dr. Weston began. "However, we had to perform an emergent C section when she arrived. She was bleeding and in advanced pre-term labor. I'm so very sorry, but your son was stillborn upon delivery."

Andy was in shock, but needed to know more. He felt like he was about to hit the floor, like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He just couldn't believe this!

"Dr. Weston, do you have any idea what cause this to happen?" Andy questioned in disbelief. "My wife wasn't having any problems at all with the pregnancy."

"That's the thing, Mr. Barber, is this is very abnormal given how your wife's pregnancy has gone," the Doctor responded. "So, we did run tests."

"What did this?"

"It appears that your wife ingested exorbitant amounts of an herb called black cohosh. We, also, found pitocin in her system. When she was questioned about these things, she admitted to taking them both to end the pregnancy but said no more than that."

Andy was instantly filled with anger and trying with everything in him not to boil over with rage. He'd just been told his wife had essentially killed their unborn child. His marriage was a lie. He was living a lie. Who did he marry? What kind of monster essentially murders their child? He could feel the tears he was fighting as he wanted to mourn his son. He couldn't continue to live this lie that Laurie had turned their marriage and life into. His marriage was over and he wouldn't ever be able to trust her again. She had murdered their child, their son. He'd never be able to look at her again without wanting to rage for what she's done.

"Thank you, Dr. Weston, for your full disclosure and honesty," Andy stated.

"Would you like to see your wife?" the doctor inquired curiously.

"No. Knowing what she's done, I can't even look at her."

"Is there anything I should tell her?"

"No. She'll find it all out when she gets the divorce papers before you even discharge her. I'm going to see my lawyer now."

"I am truly sorry I had to be the one to deliver such news to you, Mr. Barber."

"I appreciate that. However, you're not at fault here for anything. This is all on Laurie for her actions."

The Doctor firmly shook Andy's hand before walking away. Andy, himself, was a bundle of so many emotions in that moment. He had been looking forward to becoming a dad and Laurie had just stolen that from him. She, also, ruined their marriage. Now all he cared about was ridding himself of her forever.

Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies (So I don't know what's real)

(So I don't know what's real and what's not)

(Don't know what's real and what's not)

Always confusing the thoughts in my head

So I can't trust myself anymore

Caroline McKenna was putting the finished touches on her make-up. It was a special night, her eighteenth birthday, and she was more than looking forward to the celebrations. She had just stepped out of her bathroom and into her bedroom when three armed men she didn't recognize burst in the door. She suddenly frozen in fear as two of the three grabbed her by the arms. Her breathing was ragged and heavy as they drug her across the floor to the third man.

"Aren't you a pretty thing," the third commented as he put a hand under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "You will do nicely. The Boss is going to want to see her."

She could feel tears start to fall from her eyes and roll down her cheeks as their grip on her began to tighten. What was going on?

"What do you want with me?" Caroline asked, trying her best not to sob.

"You're about to find out," the same man as before answered. "Now bring her."

She started to cry as she was dragged from her room forcefully then down the hallway with them stopping at the stairs. Then, one of the men let her go while the other roughly tossed her over his shoulder, causing her dress to ride up and partially exposing her lace panties. She could hear the comments about what the other could see and it made her skin crawl. At the bottom of the stairs, she was placed back onto her feet and both men once again resumed their tight grip on her. They then went back to basically dragging her to where they wanted her to go until reaching the open doorway of her father's study.

She was taken into this room much more gently where a man who wasn't her father sat behind his desk with a ruggedly handsome and soft faced body guard standing just behind him. Her father was seated in a chair off to the side and another man stood just behind him pointing a gun at his head. The man sitting behind the desk had to be the Boss. He looked at the one who seemed to be above the two that had basically man handled her into the room then back to her as if he were examining her.

"Release her," he commanded in a calm but cool tone to the lackeys that had been holding her then turned his attention to her once she was free of their grip. "Come to me, pretty one."

Caroline walked to the desk and then around it to this stranger, this man they referred to as the Boss, fearing what would happen if she did not do as he wished. She approached him without a word. He reached out and gently pulled her closer to him, turning her completely around to fully examine her body just short of removing her clothes.

"What is your name, pretty one?" He asked her.

"Caroline," she answered quietly.

"And Sean McKenna here is your father?"

"He is, sir."

"So very, polite. You taught your daughter so well, Sean. Oh, sweet girl, your father is greatly indebted to me, so he's given me you."

"Wha...what? For what?"

"To earn the money to pay his debts as well as continue to sustain him, your mother, and younger siblings."

"How am I supposed to do that? How will I do that? What about my life, Dad?"

"If your father cared about your life, sweet girl, he wouldn't have given you to me. You will make money the best way pretty girls like you do in this world, with your body. You will be one of my special girls so you will be well cared for. Men will pay for time with you and the privilege to touch your body, among other things. This will be how you make money for me and the money your father needs."

Caroline was in complete shock as she felt the tears forming in her eyes again. She couldn't believe this! She turned around to look at his father who had his head down so he didn't have to face her because he couldn't. Of course he couldn't! He was a coward who put her into a forced life of sex work for possibly the rest of her life.

"This is my son, James," the Boss stated, introducing the one who had obviously been in charge before then he motioned towards the man behind him. "And this is Ari Levinson, my head of security."

Her father said nothing to this and she took a deep breath. She was going to go with this and be willing. Her father made it obvious he cared nothing about her considering that he was willing to make such an arrangement in the first place.

"What do you want of me? I won't fight you or make you force me," she said to the older man in front of her.

"Go with Ari to your room and pack essentials. You will stay under my close eye since James treated you so poorly with Ari as your personal guard. The rest of your things will be sent for," the boss responded.

"Yes, sir."

"Ari will take you to your new home. Put her in the suite attached to yours, Ari, so that you can keep a close eye on her."

"Of course, Boss," Ari replied with a slight smile before he walked over to her and offered her his arm.

Caroline took Ari's arm and walked out of the study with him. She hadn't realized the tears that were rolling down her cheeks by the time she reached the stairs. She directed him up the stairs and then down the hallway to her bedroom door. Of course, it would very soon no longer be her room at all. Once they were in the room with the door shut behind them she stepped forward a couple of paces and turned around to face the rugged but handsome man. He approached her quietly, his blue eyes shining brightly at her. The look in his eyes was kind as he softly wiped away her tears with his hands and gave her a smile.

"I won't hurt you, pretty girl," he spoke softly. "The Boss won't either, though he can't let your father know that. He has a reputation to maintain."

"What do you mean?" She questioned. "I thought..."

"You're being taken to the Boss's home to stay, not where the girls live. He's putting you under his protection."

She was confused. What did all this mean? What was really happening?

"It means that no one can ever touch you without your consent until you're more comfortable or choose the life," Ari explained.

"The boss isn't forcing me into anything at all?" Caroline asked in response.

"No, he's not, but James will, which is why you have me."

"You're here to protect me?"

"And, I'm the best."

She smiled at him. He was a handsome man that was oozing with confidence. She couldn't help but be grateful for the news he'd given her. She was so inexperienced, having only had sex once, and the thought of selling her body for it was terrifying. She desired greatly to be touched but was cynical about anything more than sex after his a man she tried giving her heart to had crushed her.

"Are you allowed to touch me?" She inquired of him.

"Have you ever been touched?" He questioned in response.

"Only once."

"I'm allowed with consent as long as we keep it secret."

"Will you touch me?"

"Oh, pretty girl, you're going to be so much trouble for me, aren't you?"

"I may not want to be one of the girls yet but I want to be touched."

Caroline backed up until she was leaning against the bed then slipped her arms out of her dress, allowing it to drop to the floor and pool at her feet. She stood before him in only a matching black lace bra and panty set. Ari followed her towards the bed, stripping his clothes off as he approached her. By the time he got to the bed, he was in nothing but his boxers. He pulled her against him then captured her lips in a fierce kiss. She needed to feel something good. Her father had condemned her to this life, and she was going to find a way to enjoy it. She got lucky that the Boss was putting her under special protection to give her some choices and control in this new life. Caroline did know one thing as Ari deepened the kiss and that was that she'd never, ever forgive her father for sentencing her to this life. She was choosing Ari right now, but who knew what else the future held for her. There wouldn't always be men like Ari though she hoped to god there would be a lot of men that would be as good to her as he was being right now.

I'm dying again

I'm going under (Going under)

Drowning in you (Drowning in you)

I'm falling forever (Falling forever)

I've got to break through

I'm going under

Author's Note

I have completed writing Chapters 1 and 2. They will be posted soon. Chapter 3 is in process. I’ve also been working on part 1 which is Carli’s prequel story. It can be read and told in conjunction with this and I’ll go ahead and say there will be a third book which will be the final one. - Leia

Read more by visiting my Masterlist

#chris evans #original character #smutty fanfiction #dark fanfiction #ari levinson #andy barber #mafia fanfic #mafiaprincess #mob andy barber #mob ari levinson #mob fic #alternate universe #secrets and lies #sex worker #18+ only #minors dni #mafia boss #mob boss #pregnancy loss #mature theme #emotional abuse #verbal abuse #physical abuse #smut warning #secret romance #romance #mafia romance #sex trade #child loss #dark story

[ichigoromi]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 | 𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 | 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐩 | 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

I strongly believe that Bokuto may kind of a himbo but he look like he has high street intelligence. I'm sure he has matured over the years.

This headcanon was inspired by another ASMR video by Monodrama STUDIO. Do head to his channel if you want some fluffy Korean boyfriend ASMR videos!

Hope y'all enjoy this!

Bokuto Koutarou

Ever since you returned from your trip from Hokkaido, you were feeling a little under the weather.

You brushed it off as a little cold and continued to work.

When you and Bokuto were on the call with each other, he noticed how your voice doesn't sound like usual.

You reassured him that you were exhausted and just needed more sleep.

He was worried, but he trusts you to take care of yourself since you have been the responsible one.

It has been a week, and your symptoms are getting worse.

You had to turn down a date night with Bokuto since you felt awful and could not even get out of bed.

Bokuto was upset, but he understood and went out with his friends instead.

You took some painkillers and went back to sleep after calling him to cancel the date.

In fact, you did not sleep; you actually fainted in your bed.

You woke up in the middle of the night with cold sweat on your back and your head feeling heavier than ever.

You struggled to sit up in your own bed, and every movement hurts.

There was only one person that you could call for help.

Hearing your weak and soft voice, Bokuto immediately jumps out of his bed and rushes to your apartment.

He drives to your apartment while trying to remain calm and abiding by the traffic rules simultaneously.

He hurriedly keys in your pin and enters your apartment.

Oh, the sight of you, heavily panting in pain and struggling to sit up straight, breaks his heart immediately.

"Baby, can you stand by yourself, or do you need me to carry you?" Bokuto frowns as he noticed how pale you looked.

"Can you carry me, please? My whole body hurts." You requested and winced when you tried moving your arm. He went to the living room and got back with a mask.

You wore the mask and slip on a warm cardigan with the help of Bokuto. He carries you in his arms and heads down to the parking lot where his car is.

When he was driving you to the hospital, you could feel upset and disappointed that you did not care for yourself well.

The wait at the reception area was not long since Bokuto had booked an appointment in advance with his family doctor for you, which you did not expect him to do.

While you were getting examined, you could feel his stares at the back of your neck.

Turns out you have to get an IV drip and a week off from work.

"Why didn't you immediately go see a doctor when you are sick? Baby, I'm pretty upset that you are not taking care of yourself well enough. That's it, you are moving in with me." He announced loudly, and you quickly shushed him as the other patients send glares in your direction.

He was genuine upset, and he has been frowning from your apartment to the hospital.

"I'm sorry for making you worried. But, I am glad to have such a capable and reliable boyfriend. Thank you for caring, Kou." You praised him, and his usual smile is back.

"Of course! Aren't you glad that I am your boyfriend? See, your boyfriend can do everything!" He boasted, and you smiled.

"Babe, you still need me to help you file your taxes." You teased him, and he pouts.

"Only that! So, how about we start looking for a house together when you get better?"

You nodded your head and rest your head against the pillow, and he held your hand and leans his head on your lap.

Seeing how fast he fell asleep on your lap, you really feel glad to have a boyfriend like Bokuto by your side. Maybe living together does not sound like a bad idea now.

Yes! I've written another Bokuto headcanon! I just love this big cuddly owl. It's been some time I've written about Bokuto, and this headcanon was so fluffy!

I hope y'all enjoy reading! Thank you for reading!

Stay safe and healthy!

With love,

Rosalie🍓

#bokuto koutarou #bokuto headcanons #bokuto x you #bokuto koutarou heacanons #bokuto fluff #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #msby bj #msby x you #msby headcanons #msby bokuto #bokuto kōtarō

[justthehiddleswrites]

Unexpected Delivery | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary:  You are 37 weeks pregnant when Tom books a vacation to a secluded cabin in the mountains of Scotland. You are assured you won't go into labor while gone but after an intimate moment with Tom, your water breaks. You are snowed in and the ambulance won't get there in time. Tom must now deliver the baby.

Warnings: implied smut, labor and giving birth

-

“Honey, we could have just stayed at a nice posh hotel in London,” you grumbled as you attempted to get out of the car, “You know in civilization.”

Tom hustled around to help you out. At 37 weeks pregnant, you weren’t as spry as normal.

“Come on, darling. Where is your sense of adventure?” He threw you one of his lady killer smiles.

“Being sat on by your child along with my bladder, that’s were. I swear she is all limbs just like her father.”

Tom chuckled and helped you across the short path and up the stairs to the cabin. He leaned over so his head was next to your swollen stomach.

“Listen in there, be nice to your mother. She is working hard to keep you safe. And she has had to do it without your dad.”

This trip had been all Tom’s idea. For most of the pregnancy, Tom had been away filming in Thailand. This was not the first time Tom had been away for big events. Your sister’s wedding. Graduations and important work events. But having to attend ultrasounds and midwife appointments on your own hit you hard. Pregnancy hormones only made it worse. You spent many nights crying into the phone to Tom and him reassuring you everything was fine and he would be there when it mattered.

It had been near Christmas when shooting finally wrapped. Tom had insisted on a baby moon before your due date. By then flying was off the table, so you two needed to pick somewhere within driving distance. You had suggested a posh hotel in London with a spa where you could be pampered. Tom, afraid of paparazzi, invading this precious time, chose a secluded cabin in Scotland.

“Are you sure we won’t get stuck up here?” you worried as a light dusting of snow started to cover the landscape. The doctor assured both of you at the last visit this baby wasn’t coming for at least two weeks, with your family’s history of overdue babies. But it did not make you worry any less. The nearest hospital was over an hour away. You did not want to have this baby in the mountains.

Tom kissed your forehead as he opened the front door.

“I checked the forecast, and only light snow. You have nothing to fear.”

You gave a weak smile, not convinced as you looked back and saw the snow beginning to cover the car.

About an hour later, Tom got a fire burning and a kettle going on the stove. The cabin was cozy. You shed your layers as you got inside. You were your own portable space heater these days. Tom brought over hot chocolate for you and hot tea for himself as the two of you settled underneath a thick quilt on the couch. You let out a sigh.

“It is cozy.”

“I’m glad you enjoy it. It’s not enough to make up for these past nine months, but now that filming is over, I intend to focus all my attention on you and this precious cargo.”

Tom rubbed his hand over your belly. You smiled and then winced as your stomach tightened.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

You rubbed the back of Tom’s hand.

“Just Braxton Hicks. They have getting worse over the last few weeks.”

Tom moved his hands to your shoulders and began to massage your tight shoulders. You let your head sink to your chest.

“That feels fantastic.”

Tom continued to work on the knots and move his hands to your back, kneading the space between your shoulder blades. You let a groan out.

“Darling, if you kept making such obscene noises, I will not be able to keep my hands to myself.”

Tom’s hands wandered to the front of your shirt, where he cupped your ample breasts. You let a chuckle go.

“Isn’t that what got us in this mess in the first place?”

Tom laughed as he turned you to take you into a deep embrace. His lips were soft but urgent. Both of your hands flew to his neck and hair, pulling him closer and deeper. God, you had missed him! Tom lowered you to the couch with a gentle hand, placing you on your side. However, you sat up and grabbed Tom’s arm.

“What?” he questioned as you tugged on him to follow.

“Honey, I am too big to have sex with you on a sofa. I saw a nice, big, and cozy king sized bed. Let’s do this right.”

Tom’s face lit up, and he grabbed both of your hands and dragged you to the bedroom. He had missed you as well! And his libido felt it too! The two of you didn’t even bother to shut the door before getting down to business.

***

After your lovemaking, the two of you fell asleep. You woke first and headed to the kitchen. The Braxton Hicks continued, and you winced with each contraction. Grabbing a coffee mug, you doubled over in pain, the mug crashing to the floor shattering.

“Tom!”

Your husband ran at the tone of your voice. He was panting as he found you on the floor. It was only then you noticed the wetness between your legs.

“Tom! My water broke. This baby is coming!” you panicked.

Tom’s eyes widened as he ran his hands through his hair. Still groggy from his slumber, he was trying to process everything happening. Shirtless, he rushed to the front door to start the car. The bitter cold hit his skin like needles and it dismayed him to see several feet of snow buried the car. There was no way he could dig it out in time!

“Tom!” you screamed as the contractions became more painful. “What is going on?”

“We’re snowed in!”

“WHAT?!”

“I’m sorry, darling. I will call an ambulance.” Tom replied, a shake in his voice.

By some miracle, he had reception. He dialed emergency and explained the situation. He gave them the address of the cabin. They told him to stay on the line until the paramedics could get there. Tom ran over to where you still lying on the ground. He helped you up to the armchair in the living area. You started to scream.

“Tom, I don’t think the baby can wait for an ambulance. She is ready to make her appearance sooner rather than later.”

You began to breathe like you learned in your birthing classes. Tom started yelling at the person on the phone in a panic.

“What do I do?!”

Tom listened intently to the voice on the line with a stern look on his face, nodding along with the instructions. He put the phone down and began to gather supplies: towels and blankets. He put the kettle on the stove and began boiling some water.

“Done. Now what?”

The color drained from Tom’s face as the operator told him the next step. He gulped and headed towards you.

He grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it. Sweat beaded across your forehead and the pain kept you from saying too much. Another contraction hit and you screamed.

“AAAHHHH!” you squeezed Tom’s hand hard and his knees buckled for a moment.

As the contraction subsided, Tom attempted to extract his hand from your grip but you just held on tighter. He placed his other hand on top of yours.

“I have to check your progress,” you looked at him in disbelief as you released his hand, “But not to worry, I’m a doctor.”

“That was for a movie, you idiot! I don’t want Dr. Laing to deliver this baby.”

His joke fell flat, and he refrained telling anymore for the rest of your labor. He pulled up your skirt and checked on your dilation. When his face came back into view, he looked ashen. He picked up the phone.

“The baby is crowning.”

You panicked.

“What?!” You felt a new sensation, “Tom! I want to push!”

Tom threw the phone down and returned to you.

“Not yet darling. No jokes. You are having this baby now. I will coach you through it. But you have to wait until I tell you push.”

You nodded your head. Tom placed a towel underneath your legs and grabbed some blankets to put beside him. You felt a contraction coming.

“All right, Y/N, Push!!”

You bore down and grunted.

“Three… Four…. doing great… Eight… Nine…”

At ten, you relaxed.

“Doing wonderfully,” Tom reassured as he massaged your knee. You felt another contraction coming on, “Here we go again. Push!”

You began to push again. Tom continued to encourage you. This continued for about three contractions. Tom looked up at you.

“All right, love. This last one should do it. I need to you push as hard as you can. You know you are tired, but you.. can.. do.. this.”

He looked up with his blue eyes filled with tears, pleading you to be strong for not just him but for your daughter you were about to meet. You nodded your head as you felt the contraction begin.

“PUSH!”

You pushed with all your might and before long you felt a release and moments later, you heard the cries of a baby. Tom worked to wrap the baby and placed her on your chest. The tears pricking his eyes.

“You did it! She is here. Meet our daughter.”

You started crying as you stared down at the tiny being you just gave birth to.

“She’s perfect,” you whispered as you kissed Tom softly on the lips.

“Just like her mother.” Tom beamed, “And I believe her name is going be…”

“Evelyn Rose.”

Tom seemed shocked.

“I thought you didn’t like the name Evelyn.”

“I changed my mind. Pregnant woman’s prerogative.”

Tom chuckled.

“Very well. Little Miss Evelyn Rose Hiddleston, welcome to the world.”

The two of you cooed over the baby until the paramedics showed up about twenty minutes later. They rushed to take care of you and the baby as they shuffled Tom to the perimeter. They transported all three of you to the hospital. Once you settled into a room, Tom joined you. You smiled at him.

“Hey.”

“Hey. This has been some day.”

You smiled.

“Now come on, where is your sense of adventure?”

Tom laughed.

“On the floor of that cabin when I delivered my daughter.”

“Oh, but think of the story.”

Tom winced. The papers would have a field day.

“True, but I was worried about you and Little Miss Evelyn here.”

He pointed to bassinet beside your bed where your child was sleeping for the moment.

“Well next time, let me pick where we stay and I will forgive you.”

The two of you laughed and Tom climbed into your bed to embrace you. Just as he settled Evelyn stirred and began to cry.

“Welcome to parenthood,” you said to Tom as you handed him a bottle, “Dad.”

Tom couldn’t argue that.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine

[jtsfavslut]

The Wedding Planner

Description: The number one rule when it comes to wedding planning is 'Don't fall in love with either of your clients.' What if you already were?

Warnings: soft smut

Word Count: 3.4k+

"Lillie, cue the lights and get the bride for me, thanks," you spoke into your little Bluetooth thing allowing you to communicate with your entire without disturbing any of the guests.

You watched as the lights dimmed down and the music began playing as the bride and her father walked up to the altar, feeling proud of yourself for planning such a wedding at a short notice. Everyone was in awe when she passed the guests, she wanted a princess fantasy wedding, so you and your team gave her a princess fantasy.

"Y/N, everything is all set for the reception," Lillie whispered standing next to you while watching the ceremony as well.

"Thank you, I don't know how I could work without you," you sighed and she shook her head.

"I think you would do fine," she said, making you scoff.

"I don't think so. You're my assistant, you know how I like things to be done," you said and she nodded her head this time with a smile.

"Oh Lillie, we can't go to the reception today. We have an important appointment at the same time. We need to leave in around….. ten minutes," you paused to look at your watch, "so if you could please go over the reception one more time, while I finalize some stuff here, that would be great,"

"Okay, I'll meet you by the entrance," she said before quickly walking away nodding her head.

"Okay, guys! Great work today, as always," you said into the 'microphone' getting thanks from everyone, "I'll see you guys tomorrow at our meeting, bye guys,"

You grabbed your things from a small room where you were settled in and walked to your car where Lillie was waiting.

"So, who are we working for now?" she asked as you opened the car getting inside.

"Some big YouTuber and a model," you sighed turning on the car after putting your seatbelt on, "She was kinda cocky on the phone, I'm not gonna lie," you sighed making her chuckle.

"Aren't they all like that?" She asked and you shrugged.

"I don't know, but let's hope my judgment is wrong," you sighed making a few turns before pulling up to your office.

You've owned a Wedding Planning service for a couple of years now. You used to work for someone but you were the best of the best, so you decided to part ways, and it was going great. You've planned for many celebrities and important people, so your company was doing well.

"Is that her?" Lillie asked pointing to a brunette girl that was waiting by the door. "I think so," you replied with a shrug, and got out of the car with Lillie following close behind.

"Hi, how can we help you today?" you asked with a smile as you approached the girl.

"Hey, I'm Tylah, we had an appointment today," she said, returning your smile as you unlocked the door.

"It's great to meet you, sorry if we're late we just came back from a wedding," you apologized walking in as she shook her head.

"You guys are fine, in your defense this was a bit rushed," she said and you slowly nodded your head with a smile and walked her to your office.

"Okay, I'm just going to quickly explain how the process works, is that alright?" you asked and she nodded her head, "Okay, so, the first thing we do is look into venues or places of interest, and we also write important things down, to go over things that the bride and the groom want. After that, we go to the venues to help you pick one out, then we get into the actual planning since we have a clear image of the venue, then we go dress picking if you haven't done that already, flower picking, and my team will take care of all the decorations, while me and Lillie go over everything, and stay close with you, by that I mean we do the rehearsal, choreographies, train the best man for his speech and the maid of honor, and make sure you like everything before we bring the plan to live," you explained as she nodded her head and listened.

"That sounds great. When do we start?"

"We can start the first 'phase' tomorrow, is the groom coming in?" you asked and she nodded her head.

"Great, you can come in anytime in the morning, and I will be here, do you have any questions?" you asked.

"No I'm great, we'll come by at 7 if that's okay?" she said and you nodded your head.

"That's perfect, I'll see you tomorrow," you replied, getting up from your chair to walk her out.

"Thank you so much for doing this after I called out of nowhere," she said with a smile.

"It's okay, thank you for coming to us. Have a great day," you replied before she left the building.

"How was she?" Lillie asked, making you shake your head.

"She was actually really nice," you said with a smile. "Lillie you can go home now, make sure to be here before seven,"

"Okay, thank you. Make sure to eat something, you haven't eaten anything all day," she said and you nodded your head.

"I'll grab something on the way home," you replied, walking away to grab your stuff, "Drive safe," you shouted when you heard the door opening.

"You too," she shouted back.

The next day you were up at 5 am, getting ready and eating breakfast to be out the door by 6, and getting to your office at 6:30.  You were never a person to be late, you were always on time, or before time, but never late. It's just how you were wired, which is great when it comes to planning stuff. For every event you plan, you have a schedule detailed to the last minute, wanting to give your clients their dream wedding. The wedding you never got to have, for a certain reason which motivated you to give them exactly what they want.

"Good morning Lillie, you ready for today?" you said as you walked inside your establishment to be met with Lillie.

"As always, did you eat anything?" she asked and you nodded your head. "Good, I don't want you passing out on me, again," she said, making you shake your head.

"I won't, I promise," you sighed before walking away to your office and setting everything up.

"Y/N, they're here," Lillie said, knocking on your door.

"Let em' in please," you said and she nodded her head before walking away.

"Good morning, how are we doing?" you asked once you felt people walking inside the room, not taking your eyes off the computer.

"We're good, how are you doing?" Tylah replied making you smile.

"I'm doing grea-," you began saying before looking up to be met with who you least expected to see. "I'm doing great, just fine," you continued after clearing your throat. That was a lie.

You weren't expecting to see him again. At least not in your office.

His eyes stared at you, while you tried to avoid all sorts of eye contact with him, so you tried to focus on Tylah as she spoke about the things she liked, and what was important to her.

Her phone started ringing and she excused herself before answering it, "I'm sorry guys but I have to go. You don't need me anymore anyways. Grayson, make sure the things you want matches with mine yeah?" he said before walking away leaving you and Grayson alone.

And after what seemed like hours of silence, you decided to speak.

"So Grayson, what things do you like? What do you need to have at your wedding?" you asked in your nicest tone while looking into your computer.

"Y/N, look at me," he sighed, and you looked up at the ceiling before turning to look at him, trying to hide any emotion you were feeling.

"Listen-," he began saying before you cut him off, shaking your head.

"- Grayson, please don't waste my time. Not again. So please tell me what you like so that I can write it down and we can start planning your wedding," you sighed shaking your head.

"I don't know what I like," he shrugged, making you sigh.

"Of course you don't," you whispered mainly to yourself, "What colors do you like the most, flowers, what's your aesthetic, just something?"

"I like green, and minimalist," he said and you nodded your head, and typed it into the computer, and turned off your heart for the day, and the next 6 months.

"How about flowers?" you asked and he shook his head.

"None, after what you told me, I don't like any," he whispered and you nodded your head.

"Well, that was my personal opinion, flowers are not actually for dead people Grayson," you chuckled.

"I know, but as you said, they die, just like people," he replied and you shrugged.

"Yeah, anyway. Do you have any place where you want this to take place? And areas that interest you, for the uh- for the honeymoon?" you asked, the words, the words getting stuck in the back of your throat.

"I don't know. What did Tylah say?" he asked.

"She said an afternoon in Paris," you said trying to hold back a laugh as you read, "have walks around all the parks, and visit all the restaurants and clubs,"

"I don't want to do that," he whispered and you shook your head.

"Let me guess, yeah? You would rather go to Australia or Hawaii, without any clubs," you said and he slowly nodded his head.

"I'll see what I can do, and come up with an agreement where you both get what you want," you added, writing it down on a sticky note.

"I'm sorry," he said and you looked at him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this. This must be weird for you, planning your ex's honeymoon," he said and you shook your head.

"It is weird, but what's weirder is planning a wedding and then having to plan another one with that same Groom but this time with the first bride's sister," you said, making his eyes widen.

"I'm not even going to ask questions," he said and you nodded your head.

"Yeah, it was a struggle, but it is what it is," you shrugged before closing your laptop. "Anyways, I'll see you guys after tomorrow to go and visit the venues," you sighed before getting up from your seat.

After Grayson left, you quickly called Lillie into your office.

"Lillie, you're gonna have to take over this wedding for me," you sighed and she gave you a look.

"What do you mean? Did you break the rules? It's too soon," she said and you shook your head.

"No, it's been broken. Remember the story I told you," you said and she nodded her head.

"It's him, Lillie. It's Grayson. And now he's getting married and I'm the planner," you sighed as tears threatened to spill.

"But you don't love him right?"

"I do, Lillie. I never stopped. That's why you have to plan it, I'll come up with an excuse as to why I can't do it," you said wiping the few tears that managed to escape.

"I can't Y/N, I'm sorry, she asked for you specifically, she wants the best wedding planner in the state, and that's you," you said and you shook your head.

"I don't think I can continue this. He left me after I had everything planned he left me, and I don't think I can plan this without breaking down halfway," you sighed before taking a sip of your water.

"Yes you can," you said standing next to grabbing on your shoulders to make you look at her, "pretend you hate him. Make yourself believe you hate him, even if you don't, at least until the wedding is over,"  she said and you nodded your head. "You never told me the full story. Do you want to talk about it, it might help?"

"Well, we started dating in High School, then he had to leave but we stayed strong, even after he had to fly to LA and go to Jersey all the time. When he finally moved to LA, we made it work, I was still in school and he was out here doing what he had to. Graduation came around and I got into Stanford so I moved out here with him. A couple of months later, he proposed and we got engaged. We planned our wedding all by yourself, and three months later he called it off. In his car."

Flashback:

"Y/N, can we talk?" he asked you as he pulled into his driveway.

"Sure, is everything okay? Did something happen?" you asked, taking off your seatbelt and turning to look at him.

"I just, I just think we're rushing a bit," he said, his words hitting your heart with a knife.

"What do you mean," you asked, your voice coming out broken.

"I think we should take a break," he said, his tone cold and bitter.

Breaking your heart with every word he spat.

"Grayson, you can't ask someone to marry you and then ask for a break. That's not how it works. You can't ask me to marry you and say we're rushing. We've been together for 5 almost six years, how are we rushing?" you asked, anger clouding your mind.

"Because I don't want to be with you anymore," he spat, finally crushing your heart.

"So why the fuck did you take me on a fucking date tonight? Why the fuck did you ask me to marry you? You don't lose feelings for a person in month Grayson. Why the hell did you ask me to marry you, and move in with you when you don't fucking want me?" you slightly shouted before getting out of the car, walking to who knows where in the rain.

That night you walked for what seemed years but was only a couple hours. You found a hotel and stayed there. Never wanting to see Grayson Dolan in your life.

You cried and cried. You cried until no tears came out. Cried until your sobs could no longer be heard. You cried until you felt nothing.

He broke you, for no absolute reason. He came up with a fantasy and shared it with you, only to take away and crush you.

You wondered if you've done anything if you hurt him in any way. But you just couldn't come up with an answer.

Mainly because you never did.

You did nothing but love him. You were there for him. Always. You stopped studying just to listen to his rants. You gave him advice. You tried to help him in every way you could.

But clearly, that wasn't enough.

The way he spat the words replayed on your mind over and over.

'Because I don't want to be with you anymore,' was engraved on your brain for months.

What hurt the most was the way he just didn't care about you. He didn't bother to look for you. He didn't care whether you were safe or not. He didn't care about anything.

Back to reality:

"That's fucked up," she sighed and you nodded your head.

"What's more fucked up is that I still love him," you sighed and shook your head, "I tried to force myself into hating him, for breaking me, for crushing my heart," you sighed laying your head on your desk.

"But I couldn't because, for the bad things he did, the good things outweigh them. Each and every time. Every time I thought of when he hurt me, I remembered all the good times, all the times he loved me. All the times he flew me over or flew to Jersey. But he claimed we rushed, but now he's getting married, a year after he left me?" you sighed and finally left the tears fall.

"I just don't understand what I did wrong. I gave him my all Lillie, I gave him everything times one hundred and that wasn't enough. And what hurt the most was the way he said it, "Because I don't want to be with you anymore," he said it so carelessly, so bitter, like if he never wanted me in the first place. Like if he hated me," you sobbed and she moved to the side to hug you.

"Y/N, from what you're telling me, you did nothing wrong," she sighed, running her hands through your hair.

"So why did he leave me? If I was enough, why did he leave me?"

"Because he doesn't deserve you. Because you'll always be better than he ever was," you said and you shook your head.

"And why does it still hurt? Why is he back in my life," you sighed sniffling.

"I don't know. But remember how you told me there's a reason behind every time? Then there's a reason behind why he's back in your life. And it's up to you to figure it out," she said and you nodded your head.

"Thank you. I'm gonna go home for the day, can you stay here today?" you asked and she nodded your head.

You went home and cried again. You cried in the shower. You cried as you made yourself dinner, you cried while watching a sad movie that you put on to make yourself even sadder, and you cried as you fell asleep, until a knock on your door woke you up.

"What are you doing here?" you gasped as you opened your door to be met with him.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he sighed and you shook your head.

"No, no, please don't do this," you sighed shaking your head. "How did you get my address?"

"That's not the point, Y/N. The point is that I never stopped thinking about you, I never did," he said making you sob.

"Grayson please, you can't do this. You're engaged, you're getting married. Please don't hurt me again," you shook your head, trying to close the door before he stopped you by slamming his lips against yours.

Your hands moved up, getting tangled in his hair as he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, as he walked inside and closed the door with his foot.

He laid you down on the couch, his lips moving down to your neck, instantly finding the spot that always made you melt.

Your hands moved from his neck to the hem of his shirt, signaling to take it off, which he did, following with yours.

And piece by piece, all pieces of clothing were discarded and thrown on the ground.

"Ready?" he asked and you softly nodded your head. A gasp falling past your lips when you felt him push.

"Fuck I missed you," he groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him, making you moan.

"Gray," you moaned clutching on to his shoulder as his lips drew small marks on your neck.

And after all the bliss and good feeling moments, you felt disgusting.

Whatever happened was not enough to overpower whatever you were feeling about yourself.

"No. no. no, what did I do?" you asked yourself after slipping your clothes back on.

"Grayson what did we do? We shouldn't have done that, oh my God," you started freaking out before Grayson moved towards you and grabbed your hands.

"It's okay, she did it to me too," he shrugged and you shook your head.

"No, it's wrong, and did you just use me to get back at her?"

"What? No, I told you I missed you," he said and you shook your head.

"Well, you can't miss me. I can't believe I just did that, that's rule number five," you whispered. "Grayson you need to leave please,"

"What?"

"I said you need to leave. We've already done more than enough. This is not professional at all, and I can't risk losing everything so please leave, before you hurt me more than you have and before you hurt her too," you getting up from the couch and walking to the door.

"What about what you want?" he said, making you let out a sarcastic chuckle.

"What I wanted died years ago, and now I need you to leave and to never speak of this again,"

this sucks ass

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[incidentreport31]

Episode One: In the Middle of the Street TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts.]

[Intro music players.]

ANNOUNCER:

Three-Eyed Frog Presents: Incident Report Number 31.

[Theme song fades to a stop.]

[click recorder on]

ARCHIVIST:

Test. Test. One, two, three. (mutters) Bloody hell, why does it smell like something died in here? Well, guess we can’t prove something didn’t, eh? The recorder seems to be working, at least.

My name is Val West. I’m the newly appointed head archivist at The [REDACTED] Institute, which documents people’s possible experiences with the supernatural for both emotional support purposes and to get recovery time off of work, school, et cetera if the trauma is deemed severe enough by their employers or other supervisory staff.[beat as they scoff] Supernatural doctor’s note, innit...

The Head of the Institute, Mr. Neil Banks, has asked me to record these accounts because, well, there actually isn’t really a good reason. [mutters] Didn’t spend eight years getting a masters in library sciences to read stories into a dusty tape recorder, but, we all have to get by.

I do, at least, have people to assist me: two researchers: Zach Zamuel-Imogen Baker, and Christine Lewis, along with, I’m told, a very well-respected psychologist: one [hesitant] Dr. Oliver Possum, who will be advising me on any cases where there is necessary psychological follow up. I haven’t actually met any of them yet, but hopefully they will be helpful.

I was also explicitly told not to look behind the bookshelf to my left, so I will be looking behind the bookshelf later today...right. Guess I should get started, then.

[Sound of papers tapped on desk to organize them]

ARCHIVIST:

[They clear their throat.] For the consideration of Ortolan Bunting Law Firm: Ayla Stephenson’s encounter with a house that did not exist and her subsequent request for thirty hours of paid time off. No date given. Fine by me. Not gonna lose sleep over improperly filled out paperwork. Well. Start? I suppose? Yes.

[ACCOUNT.]

I feel the need to start with this, so you fully understand what I’m trying to say. I have a feeling you’ll just dismiss my story otherwise. I’ve lived here going on ten years now. Moved here on the promise of a job from the same company that I still work for today: Ortolan Bunting Law Firm. I drive the same route to work every day. I mean, I looked up the quickest way on the map when I first moved to town, and hey, who am I to question that? If it works it works. No need to make something difficult when the map’ll just figure it for you that first day, right?

I guess I’m getting a bit off topic here, but my point is that I’ve been going the same way for a decade, which is to say that I know the route to and from work like the back of my hand. Sure, maybe I don’t pay attention to every detail every day, I mean after ten years, the drive is almost an unconscious thing-

ARCHIVIST:

(mutters) Not a great way to build up your story’s credibility but, I digress.

[ACCOUNT.]

-but I still know all the road’s quirks, even if they don’t stick out to me after all this time. I know that the first left turn light on the way lasts for about two seconds and if you’re more than two cars behind in line, you’ll have to wait a whole cycle to go. I know there’s a business center that, god knows why, has their logo done in comic sans just off to the right before I merge onto the highway. Once I’m on that freeway for about fifteen minutes, I can see this drive through coffee place on one of the adjacent streets. Every single morning the line’s backed up out to the street- you’d think there’d be a better way to do that, but that’s more of a personal gripe and certainly not the point. On my way back from work, I take a few side streets to avoid rush hour traffic on the main road- just the way the map recommended on my first day, of course, I’m not looking to get lost in the backroads. There’s a few old houses, sometimes I see elderly couples sitting out on their porches. Sometimes they wave and I do have the decency to wave back, though some of my colleagues might not believe you… I’m afraid I’ve been a bit put off by this whole experience and have been taking it out on some of my coworkers. All the more reason to give me the [THE ARCHIVIST sighs this last part out as they are once again pulled out of the story] time off that I so kindly requested.

ARCHIVIST:

That last line is crossed out. It appears that Ms. Stephenson was reluctant for her Firm to read that bit if this ever got back around to them. To be honest, the way that this is going, I’m not so sure that plea would have done anything for her, but I am, of course, to remain the impartial academic in my work here, so I suppose I’ll allow the defacing of Institute paperwork just this once, even if the scribbles are rather unprofessional.

[ACCOUNT.]

There're a few empty lots there too. I think at one point, the city wanted to buy them up and make a park, but I don’t think they ever got around to it. Really don’t think they will now. I’m getting ahead of myself. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’ve been going the same way day in and day out for ten years… I’d notice if something was different.

ARCHIVIST:

I’m assuming… that is the point of this report yes? [beat] Continuing on.

[ACCOUNT.]

Nothing that day was really any different, I’d say. Just drove to work, hit all the usual landmarks: waiting to turn at the light, glancing at the comic sans sign, thinking that that coffee shop is definitely obstructing traffic, the usual. Went to work, got through the day with… minor amounts of stress… I mean it’s legal work, it isn’t fun, but somebody’s gotta do it. Got off right at five, gathered up my things and left. I took my usual streets, not really minding anything, but I noticed no one was out on the porches. That’s not unusual, I know, people can be inconsistent, it’s not a big deal, but looking back? Maybe they knew something was off… I mean if I’d lived in that neighborhood I certainly would have.

[Eerie music begins playing.]

I always drive with the radio on, can’t stand being alone with my thoughts on a busy street where road rage can make its way into my thoughts. Guess I should’ve mentioned that earlier, huh? Either way it seems important that I say it’s part of my daily life. I do it every day, and I’ve never had a problem with reception in that area, so when the sound started to glitch out, I thought something was wrong with my car. It was frustrating, sure, but not a big deal, even if I don’t necessarily enjoy the sound of static more than the average person.

I went through the usual useless attempts to fix it, of course. Smacked it a few times, turned it off and on again, but nothing changed. In the end, I just turned it off as I kept driving. Figured my own thoughts were better than the white noise that faded in and out of my speaker at an unpredictable volume. Things were fine for a few minutes. I’d almost gotten to the end of the street when I realized something wasn’t quite right.

At first, I thought maybe the light was just reflecting into my eyes weird. Maybe I’d just seen something out of the corner of my eye that there was a fine explanation for. Because… I knew this road. And there had never been a house there before. I was sure of it. A whole house isn’t something that could go up in a night, but you know that, you aren’t an idiot.

[Record scratch, cutting the music off.]

ARCHIVIST:

[pretentious bastard] I’d certainly like to think so, yes.

[ACCOUNT.]

But there it was. It wasn’t right next to the other houses, a few lots down the road instead. Other than my knowledge that it wasn’t there before, though, it could have blended into the neighborhood without anyone noticing.All things considered, it was a pretty nice house. Sure, it was done up in that fancy Victorian style and therefore inherently a little unnerving, you know how those old places just seem a little haunted even if they’re perfectly put together?

Still, beyond that, it was fine. Not broken down in that sort of creepy ghost way that you see in movies, or anything. The paint was pretty well done, only a little aged from the sun, and all the wood on the wrap-around porch was together. I mean if I was building a murder house, I would’ve splintered the boards and peeled up the exterior wall a bit, something along those lines, you know? It looked like someone could have been living out of it. Totally normal.

I know what you’re thinking, that I got out and had a look, but I can’t say I did. As the sun was going down? While I was all of a sudden unsure of my own thoughts? Really? No way in hell. I’m not an idiot either. So I kept driving. As I passed by, I got this strange feeling… like I wasn’t alone on the street. I don’t know if I imagined it or not, but with how much I was already questioning what I knew, I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer, and I sped away, not wanting to stick around any longer than I had to. Now, when I got home, I went through stages of denial before realizing that, hey, it wasn’t my damn neighborhood, and therefore not actually a problem that I would have to deal with.

At least until I was driving back from work the next afternoon. Funny how that works… your problems don’t just disappear because you’ve chosen to ignore them. Although ignore is a strong word considering I spent all day at work worrying about whether or not I should trust myself and whether or not I would see the house again when I drove home… I could’ve gone another route, of course. Could’ve gone even one street over and left it at that.

But that isn’t how it works, is it? I was so unsure of my own thoughts that I’d rather put myself in a situation that seemed potentially harmful than not know if I was wrong or not. [beat] So I went down the same route, just like I’d been conditioned to for the last decade. Once again, the couples were inside. They had to know something was wrong, I mean I was able to realize the house shouldn’t have been there and I didn’t even live in the neighborhood. I slowed my car to a snail’s pace as I inspected all about the street that I could. Not really sure what I was looking for if I’m being honest, but when I got to the house, I’d convinced myself that, yes, in fact, it was as real as the rest of the places on the block.

I don’t think it was really a conscious decision when I stopped the car. I’d just been going so slow already and… well I’d reached my target, hadn’t I? I sat and gazed over the house for a few moments. Looking over the perfect condition it seemed to be in, to no avail. It seemed to be perfectly normal. Maybe… Maybe I was really just in my head about all of this. Was it really that hard to believe? I should’ve just left, stopped staring at this place. Sitting there wasn’t going to change the fact that it was there, whether or not I could really trust my mind.

But… then I saw the curtains in the front window move. I snapped my gaze over to where I’d seen the motion and there was a little boy staring at me through the glass. He looked off to something behind the curtain before looking back over and waving, grinning a gap toothed smile at me. I... Well I wasn’t quite sure what to do with that so… I waved back. What else was I supposed to do? In an instance, I became convinced that I’d really just made the whole thing up. If there really was someone inside and nothing untoward seemed to be going on, the kid had seemed perfectly happy after all, then it had to be a real house. And really, if it had been some big spooky master plan, then why would he have acknowledged me? I’ve been to the movie theatre. I know children in horror flicks can be creepy, but just straight up waving at me like I was just another neighbor and nothing was going on? Didn’t exactly set up the sinister mood that I figured would have come from the place.

And then a hand shot out and. The kid recoiled as it shut, looking disappointed that he’d been caught doing something it was evident he wasn't supposed to. And I snapped back into trusting myself and sticking with my gut. I didn’t like the look of that. At all. Unfortunately, my whole life, I’ve generally been prone to the third fear response rather than either of the useful ones: I freeze. This time was no different. I couldn’t bring myself to drive away.

[In the background, eerie music begins playing.]

I sat there in dead silence for what felt like hours with a vague feeling of unease hanging in the air when the door opened. A man stepped out, wearing this fine tailored suit that I’d seen clients wealthier than I would ever be wear into my office and carried himself with the confidence of a person that knows no one is going to cross them. Despite all that, his face was soft. Approachable. Kind, even. Seemed like the kind of guy that knew he had money, but was willing to help you if you’d just say thank you afterwards.

As he approached my car he called out to me: “Hello there!”

Nice and friendly. Even with the strangeness of a few moments ago and my lingering unease, I could hardly bring myself to believe that this man would do anything to me. Sure, I was still stuck to my seat in fear, but he seemed perfectly safe. Maybe that’s just what it’s like to be charismatic though, looking back. I wasn’t sure what to do at that point, but my pre-programmed social response got the better of me and I rolled down my window to meet him.

“Hi.” I said. Just a simple greeting until I could really figure out what was happening.

He put one hand on the top of my car and leaned down to meet my eyes. As he spoke, his smile never faded: “So… I take it… you can see this place?”

Well, I was so taken aback I wasn’t really sure what to say, so I just nodded. And the next thing he said, well… threw me a bit off. He stood up, brushed off his pants calmly, turned back to the house, began walking, and he just said-

[Record scratch, cutting the music off.]

ARCHIVIST:

Now there’s a profanity here that I will not repeat, but it seems Ayla’s statement finishes there.

[The Archivist sighs and shuffles their papers.]

ARCHIVIST:

There’s not much followup to be done here. Ayla gave us a street address, but didn’t actually tell us which house it was. [mutters] Perhaps she’s more of an idiot than she claims to be.

Regardless, upon investigating the street, nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary, though none of our staff were familiar enough with the area to tell which houses should and shouldn’t be there. In my personal opinion, this is a mere case of a poor attention span. I can’t blame Ayla, I suppose, but was it really worth coming here and telling a whole dramatic story over it?

[scoff] There are some other areas of this statement that leave room for questioning and research, such as the radio static and the house’s residents. For now, however, I will be filing this one under “Irrelevant” in my mind. End recording.

[Recorder clicks on.]

[Recorder clicks back on.]

[There’s footsteps as HR walks down the hall. They knock on the Archivist’s office door. Meanwhile, the Archivist can be heard moving something.]

HR:

[muffled] Uh, hello? I’ve got something for the Archivist.

ARCHIVIST:

Oh, uh, yes, of course. Just let me— [They curse as they are heard tripping over piles of statements.]

[A pause.]

HR:

...should I come back at a later time, or—?

[The door suddenly swings open.]

ARCHIVIST:

Right. Blimey. Sorry about that, mate. What’s all this, then?

HR:

Er, are you the head archivist?

ARCHIVIST:

That depends, who’s asking?

HR:

Your HR. I’m also an intern under Mr. Banks, which brings about a whole array of other useless titles, but for your purposes, I’m just HR. My name is Luca.

ARCHIVIST:

Oh! Lovely. Mr. Banks told me I’d be seeing you. Um, pleasure to meet you.

HR:

Thanks, you—wait, wh—?

ARCHIVIST:

[trying to change the subject] Say, why are you here, Luca? Any plans for after your internship? I mean, surely, you have a field of study, a career plan?

HR:

[slowly, growing increasingly confused] Oh, um, yeah. I, um—well, I started here—um, yeah, after my internship, I. Uh.

ARCHIVIST:

It’s alright if you don’t have a plan, y’know. Took me a while to figure all my stuff out, and, well, I got out alive, didn’t I?

HR:

No, it’s just—I know I have something, I just. Um. [desperately trying to change the subject] What are you doing in there, exactly?

ARCHIVIST:

[beat] Oh, just some housekeeping.

HR:

...and that required you to move an entire bookshelf?

[A long pause.]

ARCHIVIST:

Listen, I know what this looks like.

HR:

Doesn’t he have a weird thing about that?

ARCHIVIST:

[passionate] Which is exactly why I did it! I mean, they’re not the heaviest bookshelves in the world, so it’s certainly not a matter of safety.

HR:

[mutters] As if Mr. Banks has ever valued the life and safety of his employees.

[Both are heard walking back into the office towards where the bookshelf was.]

ARCHIVIST:

[cont.] Which means there must have been something weird about the bookshelf—and I was right. See, look, there’s like a weird...hole. Thing.

HR:

...I’m guessing that’s why Mr. Banks made me bring you a shovel?

ARCHIVIST:

Hm? Oh, right, the shovel. Kind of forgot I had asked for that.

HR:

How did you not notice I was carrying it when I came here?

ARCHIVIST:

You see, within the hole, there’s this big mound of dirt, and I have reason to believe that there’s something hidden beneath.

HR:

[They sniff, then, disgusted] Oh god, why does it smell like something died in there?

ARCHIVIST:

That’s what I’m trying to find out.

HR:

Look, can’t you just...I don’t know, leave it? Like, just put the bookshelf back, spray some air freshener, and then be done with it? I really don’t want to have to write this up.

ARCHIVIST:

You expect me to work under these conditions? Having a mysterious hole in my wall with no idea what’s lurking within?

HR:

Look, I just think this is a really stupid idea. If Mr. Banks finds out—

ARCHIVIST:

He’s not going to! You— [they huff a sigh.] Would you just hand me my shovel? I’m going in!

HR:

Whatever you say.

[HR hands the Archivist the shovel.]

ARCHIVIST:

Thank you.

[They are heard shoveling for some time, before the Archivist finally seems to hit something.]

HR:

Is...is that…?

ARCHIVIST:

My god.

HR:

That’s a dead body.

ARCHIVIST:

Appears to be. [beat.] Do you know who it is?

HR:

I mean, they’re sort of hard to recognize now.

ARCHIVIST:

Perhaps the previous archivist?

HR:

I dunno, I never knew them.

[A long pause.]

ARCHIVIST:

Right, then. Back to work. Mind helping me move this bookshelf?

HR:

(under their breath) God, I’m gonna have to write this up, aren’t I?

[Recorder clicks off.]

[Theme music plays.]

[CREDITS.]

Incident Report Number 31 is a podcast made by Three-Eyed Frog Presents. This episode, “In the Middle of the Street,” was written, directed, and produced by Val West and Luka Miller with sound design by Luka Miller. This episode featured Val West as the Archivist and Luka Miller as HR. Music is produced by Luka Miller. To keep up with the show and find transcripts, make sure to follow us on our Twitter at @IR31Pod and on tumblr at @IncidentReport31. To contact us with any questions or concerns, feel free to email us at [email protected]. Thanks so much for listening!

#ir31pod transcripts

[writer-k-pop]

Misunderstood (P1)

그는 직원들을 정말 아낀다. He really cares about his employees.

Description: Starting as the secretary for the CEO of Starlight Entertainment should be exciting, But since moving from the engineering world to the entertainment world, you're not caught up on all the gossip and rumors floating around but you've heard some floating on the media. Will the rumors be true or is the CEO hiding another side of himself? Warnings: BRIEF mention of workplace inappropriateness (absolutely no details) otherwise nothing that I can think of Genre: Angst, Fiction, CEO!Soonyoung/Hoshi x Fem! Reader Word Count: 3.8k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

The first day was somewhat of a blur, with only some moments sticking in my mind. I wasn't planning on the day going the way it did but I guess it's what kept me from getting fired.

It wasn't a secret that the CEO of Starlight Enterainment was supposedly hard to work with even though he has a very successful company. So walking into the company was slightly, very daunting and nerve wracking.

The lobby was busy with people walking to and from. Some dressed in business attires with bags probably carrying folders. Some were in casual clothes dragging large outfit or make up bags behind them: the stylists. Then there were the youngest looking people in sweats and many carrying backpacks: the trainees.

It was very different from the strictly business professional engineering company I had come from. After leap frogging through the lobby, I made it to the front desk.

"Hi, how can I help you today?" The receptionist asked with a pleasant smile which I returned.

"Hi, my name is (y/n) and I'm supposed to be starting today." I told her, "I have a meeting with, uh, Ms. Lee."

The receptionist scrolls through her computer, looking for my specific appointment.

"Ah, yes. I'll let her know you're here." The receptionist nodded at me before hesitating for the briefest of seconds. "Are you by chance the new secretary for Mr. Kwon?"

The other receptionist at the desk looked over at the mention of the CEO.

I cleared my throat and glanced between the two receptionists. "I am."

The second my answer hit their ears and their faces changed to expressions filled with pity. "Well, I'll let know Ms. Lee that you're here. You can wait over there," She gestured towards a small area with a few chairs. "And it was very nice to meet you, (y/n)." She added like it was the last time I was ever going to see her. Which seemed odd to me since it was only my first day.

I sat in a chair and absentmindedly watched the people pass by. Only a few minutes had passed when I heard a voice call out my name.

"(y/n)?"

I turned and met with smiling face of Ms. Lee. She was dressed in a pair of nude slacks with a black button up blouse. Simple, sleek style.

"Hi, how are you?" I rose to my feet and shook her hand.

"I'm as well as can be for a Monday morning." She said with a half laugh.

I smiled, "I understand that feeling."

Ms. Lee led me towards the elevators while speaking about some formalities. "This is the lobby. If you go just beyond the bathroom sign, there's a cafe that makes a pretty mean coffee."

I looked towards the direction and quickly decided that I would stop by the next morning. The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival and opened its doors to an empty carriage.

We stepped in and Ms. Lee pressed the 10th floor button.

"I will be with you for a couple days to get you settled in so don't be afraid to ask me anything." She explained as the elevator doors closed and we began to ascend to my new office.

"Your desk will be inside Mr. Kwon's office, it'll be off to the side." Ms. Lee continued, "There is a receptionist outside the office to control the appointments."

"He has a receptionist and a secretary?" I wondered.

Ms. Lee nodded, "The receptionist keeps the company fort while you will accompany Mr. Kwon to meetings and outside company events and such."

"Interesting." I commented.

"Mr. Kwon is a very busy man." She informs me. "So you better wear comfortable shoes to work."

I looked down at my low heels and thanked my lucky stars that I decided to wear these instead of my stilettos.

"Is Mr. Kwon currently in his office?" I asked as the elevator reached the tenth floor and dinged.

"No, he's in a meeting." Ms. Lee informed me and walked out of the now open elevator doors.

As we walked towards Mr. Kwon's office, Ms. Lee pointed out different offices and rooms.

"Those three doors on the other side of the elevators are conference rooms. Mr. Kwon has many meetings in those rooms. The heads of each department have offices on this floor but as you can probably guess, they hardly use them." Ms. Lee randomly opened a door, revealing a clean, empty office.

I nodded, understanding that their jobs mainly take place all over the company instead of just in an office.

"This is my office." Ms. Lee opened the last door before the floor opens up slightly. "You can come find me anytime, I'm usually here. HR isn't needed everywhere like the others." She gave me a knowing look.

As we walked into the open space, a couch sat against the wall next to a pair of large double doors. A name plaque hung next to the doors with three words engraved in the gold plate: "CEO Mr. Kwon." A desk sat perpendicular to the doors. The male sitting behind the desk immediately stood up when he noticed Ms. Lee.

"Morning, Ms. Lee." The male greeted her with a small bow. "If you're looking for Mr. Kwon, he's in a meeting but should be wrapping up soon."

Ms. Lee shook her head, "I'm actually looking for you." She leaned against the tall reception desk.

"Well, then. What can I do for you?" He emphasized "I" and leaned forward slightly, ready to receive whatever task Ms. Lee was going to give him.

"This is (y/n). She's the new secretary starting today." Ms. Lee introduced me and I bowed in greeting.

"I'm Seungkwan." Seungkwan greeted before turning to Ms. Lee and giving her a look I couldn't quite decipher.

Ms. Lee rolled her eyes and moved towards the office, "This is your office, (y/n). Well, you get half of it."

We made our way inside and the good sized office shouldn't have surprised me but it did. It wasn't extremely crowded like some said and it wasn't extremely clean either. It just looked like ... an office. The desk was large with a couple folders placed on it. The monitors were placed normally and the filing cabinets were organized. But it was obviously the trash hadn't been taken out yet. It was overflowing with crumpled up pieces of paper.

"It's cute." I commented, moving towards the L shaped-desk. Setting my bag on the floor, I sat in the chair and turned on the computer.

Ms. Lee hands me a post it, "This is your username and the temporary password. When you enter the password, you'll be prompted to create your own password."

I nodded and typed the numbers and letters into the computer. Before Ms. Lee could say anything else, she was interrupted by a loud voice and multiple footsteps echoing through hallway.

"Where is Ms. Lee?" The loud voice asked. "She isn't in her office. Tell her to come to my office immediately." Something in his voice told me he wasn't all too happy about the conversation he needed to have with Ms. Lee.

"Seungkwan, do you kno- oh, Ms. Lee. There you are." A man dressed in a nicely tailored gray suit stopped when he noticed Ms. Lee opening the door to the office.  I immediately recognize him from all the news articles: Mr. Kwon. I also notice the few people behind him also stopped, careful not to step in front of the man in front.

"Here I am." Ms. Lee replied kindly.

Mr. Kwon gestured for her to follow him back into his office.

"Fix this and this." Mr. Kwon instructed sitting in his chair, handing a folder to one of the men who were following him earlier, "And do it right this time, please." The man grabbed the folder, bowed, then quickly made his way out of the office. "Inform the trainees that evaluations will be held this Friday. No time table yet." He informed the other two and then waved them out of the room.

Finally, Mr. Kwon acknowledged the two us standing a few feet from his desk.

"Ms. Lee." He sighed, leaning back in his chair, "Who do you have with you?" He asked the corner of his mouth raising for a second.

Before Ms. Lee could introduce me, I spoke first.

"I'm (y/n). I'll be your new secretary, starting today." I introduced myself.

Mr. Kwon seemed slightly taken aback that I would introduce myself when Ms. Lee was standing right next to me.

"Alright, then." Mr. Kwon smirked like he had something up his sleeve, "How about your first task." He folded his hands behind his head, looking smug like whatever the task was, I wouldn't pass. He seemed certain I wouldn't.

"Sure, sir." I accepted the challenge with innocence.

"What are the stories for today?" He asked without even looking in my direction.

"Stories, sir?" I repeated, unsure what he meant.

"What are the happenings of the world today?" He rephrased his question though it did little to resolve my confusion.

I scrunched my eyebrows together, trying to think of what exactly he meant. I felt Ms. Lee's eyes on me and then saw Mr. Kwon glance at me, waiting for an answer.

Feeling the pressure, I spit out whatever I could think of news worthy wise.

"Uh, the weather app said it was supposed to rain today but judging from the scarce cloud coverage, I highly doubt it. The bakery across the street is advertising for a new type of cake. Kim Kardashian cried over spilt milk. Literally. And there's a spelling mistake on your website. Under the "About the Staff" page, the word "excellent" in one of the choreographer's biography was spelled with two c's and two t's." I rushed out, saying words before processing what I was saying.

The seconds of silence that followed also brought a tsunami of embarrassment and I bowed my head, staring at my shoes.

Mr. Kwon stared at me before breaking the silence with a slow laugh that quickly turned into a full laugh.

I glanced at Ms. Lee who was nodding with approval.

"She did not actually cry over actual spilled milk." Mr. Kwon sat up properly.

I shrugged, "The DailyNews article said it was milk from the last mountain cow alive."

"And the spelling mistake." Mr. Kwon continues, "How did you find that?"

"I was curious about the people I would be working with so I read through your entire website." I explained, "It was a little confusing in terms of navigating it but I got through it all the same."

"No one has ever noticed it before." He pursed his lips and nodded, "Maybe this one will work Ms. Lee."

Ms. Lee smiled, "You wanted to talk to me earlier?" She asked.

When Ms. Lee reminded him, he instantly reverted back into full business mode. "Ah, yes. You remember Mr. Kim in production?"

Ms. Lee nodded.

"He's put in his two weeks, so we'll need to fill his spot." Mr. Kwon shuffled through some of the folders before giving Ms. Lee one of them. "I emailed you the description we've used in the past but, agh, what am I saying. You know the drill."

Ms. Lee chuckles, "Of course. I will have a draft written up and on your desk by tomorrow morning."

"Very well." Mr. Kwon gave a single nod then looked at me standing slightly awkwardly. "Do you have a notebook with you?" He asked.

I shook my head, "Not currently but I can go get one from my desk."

Mr. Kwon motions towards my desk, "Please do, we have some things to start on."

I nodded and walked the few feet to my desk with Ms. Lee following me. Once near the desk, I took a deep breath.

"I have to go to a meeting right now, but you should be okay for a little while, right?" Ms. Lee asked, folder still in her hands.

I nodded, confidence slowly growing.

"If you need anything, I'm sure Seungkwan will know some of the answers." Ms. Lee said before heading out.

After the doors closed behind Ms. Lee, I scooped up the new notebook from the drawer and a pen out of the holder. Looking back at Mr. Kwon, he was typing furiously staring at one of his monitors. I walked towards his desk, standing slightly behind the chairs placed in front of his desk.

"Take a seat." He simply stated, not taking his eyes off the computer.

I gave a small nod, though he wouldn't have noticed, and sat in one of the chairs with the notebook open and ready for notes to be taken on it.

"Alright," Mr. Kwon landed a final click on his mouse and turned to face me. "So, welcome to Starlight Entertainment. Blah, blah, blah. Can you move my 2pm appointment to 3pm instead?"

I wrote down the direction but soon realized I had no idea which company the appointment it was with. I looked up at him with my mouth slightly open, a question sitting on the edge of my tongue but Mr. Kwon beats me to it.

"It's with the styling team for the new group debuting in two months." Mr. Kwon finished for me.

"Right, okay, I can do that." I nodded and wrote down the information before looking back up at him.

"Also, I was reading your resume," He pulled out a sheet of paper that I recognized as my resume that I applied with.

"Must've been a very interesting read." I commented noticing how he still had my resume.

"Actually, yeah, I'm just curious how you went from an engineering company to us." Mr. Kwon flicked the paper with an actual interest in my career.

I scratched the back of my neck, having to think about the answer. "I mean it was fun and interesting but the workplace was not ideal for me. It was a bit... rowdy." I searched for a couple seconds to find the right word.

"Rowdy?" Mr. Kwon repeated, leaning forward with a twinge of concern.

I glanced around the room, unsure if I should be telling the CEO, who I just met today, about my previous workplace. "The employees were predominantly male and they were a little... unpleasant."

Mr. Kwon suddenly looked down at my resume, his eyes scanned the paper quickly.

"Mr. Park's employees?" Apparently he knew my previous boss, how convenient. "I can't believe I'm hearing that. That's ridiculous." He picked up his landline phone, punching a number into the keypad.

I scrunched my eyebrows together in confusion.

"You can go talk to Seungkwan about your other duties." Mr. Kwon waved me off with the phone up to his ear.

I stood and quickly made my way out of the office. Seungkwan stood as soon as the door opened but immediately relaxed when he saw me walk out and not Mr. Kwon.

"I was instructed to have you fill me in on my duties." I leaned my forearms on the desk, "So, Mr. Receptionist, what are my duties as a secretary?"

Seungkwan leaned forward on his hands, "Well, it's basically the same role as every other secretary role."

"So I take notes and get him coffee?" I reiterated recalling the stereotypical secretary role.

"And then some." Seungkwan wiggles his eyebrows.

My jaw dropped and I slapped his shoulders, "You, you are terrible."

A loud crash echoed through the doors that made both Seungkwan and I jump.

Faint yelling is heard, something along the lines of "Hire better employees and be better for society!"

I made a move towards the door but Seungkwan grabbed my shoulder, holding me back. When I looked over at him, he just shook his head 'no.'

"Why not?" I questioned, glancing between him and the doors.

"You'll figure it out soon enough." Seungkwan started just as something like pens scattered the floor, "You have to wait until he calls you in. He can get riled up over things. Especially mistreatment of people."

"But my desk is in there." I countered, "Mistreatment of people?" I asked.

Seungkwan nodded in confirmation. "If you read what the articles say about him, you wouldn't take him for that kind of guy but he really cares about his employees."

I cocked my head to the side, then his intercom beeped.

"(y/n), you can come back in." Mr. Kwon's voice statics.

"You'll find out." Seungkwan whispered and nudged me towards the office.

"Oh, okay." I said heading towards the doors, slightly, very confused.

Opening the door, I hesitated before walking in. As I suspected, his pen holder was knocked over, pens scattered all over the floor. The first crash must've been the trash can that he kicked over and sent the crumpled papers flying.

Mr. Kwon was picking up the crumpled paper and I decided to help with the pens. I set down my notebook and pen on my desk before kneeling down to pick up the few pens that made it all the way over by my desk.

"(y/n) you don't have to. I can get this." Mr. Kwon commented, placing a few papers into the trash bin.

"Oh, it's fine, Mr. Kwon. I don't mind helping." I shook my head and continued picking up pens, "Plus if I left you to do this all by yourself you could be here for hours and you might miss your next meeting."

Mr. Kwon paused and rested his arm on his bent knee. A small laugh left his mouth, "Hours, huh?"

"You never know, sir." I politely joked back.

He waved a hand, "Oh, please don't call me 'sir' or 'Mr. Kwon,' It's way too formal for someone who's going to be next to me everyday."

"Then what should I call you?" I asked walking over to the desk, righting his pen holder and placing the few picked up pens.

"Just call me Soonyoung." Mr- Soonyoung said with a sweet smile.

I smiled back and went back to picking up the fallen pens.

"I apologize for the way you were treated at your old company." Soonyoung said quietly, also going back to the scatters papers. "I didn't think Mr. Park's company was like that. Could you cancel all my future appointments with him? I won't be doing business with such a company."

"All of them?" I asked, turning to look at him with confusion.

Soonyoung nodded, "All of them." He confirmed.

"I-"

"Seungkwan can show you how to do that." He chuckles to himself. "If he could, he would be an amazing secretary for someone."

"If he could?" I wondered.

Soonyoung nodded. "Seungkwan had an accident before his time here and it ended with him having a bum knee. He can't be on it for long otherwise it pains him and then he's out for a couple days. It's why he's at the reception desk instead of walking around everywhere with me."

I picked up another pen as his words sunk in. But more than his words, his tone resonated more. The tone of care and concern for another person. Seungkwan was right. Soonyoung does care for his employees contrary to what every single article has said about him.

"Can I ask you a question?" I said, picking up the last of the pens and setting them in their holder as Soonyoung also finished.

"Shoot." Soonyoung sank down into his chair.

"Why don't you ever correct the articles that come out about you?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" He questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You obviously care for your employees. But yet there are articles constantly coming out about you that paint, well, not the best picture." I carefully explained, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

Soonyoung sighed and just shrugged. "You pick up on a lot." He commented before moving on, "I have a meeting in a few minutes. You don't have to come, it is just your first day."

I shook my head, "No, no, I can join you. Though, what should I bring?" I asked sheepishly, realizing I definitely don't know what I'm doing.

Soonyoung chuckles, "Just you, your phone, a notebook, and a pen."

"You can't go in there." Seungkwan's voice seeped through the door. "Ma'am, ma'am!"

The door swung open and a lady wearing a pencil skirt and a very tight blouse waltzed in with a stern expression etched onto her face.

"Would it kill you to return my damned calls?" She nearly screamed at him, marching straight to his desk.

Soonyoung slowly turned his chair to face the woman who I recognized as his previous wife, Irene, though I thought they were divorcing. I walked backwards towards my desk, doing my best to ignore the conversation.

"Why would I have to call you back?" Soonyoung asked with a calm voice.

"Because I'm your wife?" She answered with another question.

"I thought we were divorcing." Soonyoung replied as if her question was a joke.

"It isn't finalized yet and we need to talk." Irene rests her hands on her hips with a bucket of sass.

"About what?" Soonyoung nearly rolled his eyes at her.

Irene glanced back at me, questioning my presence.

"She stays." Soonyoung noticed her gaze. "That's her desk, this is her office too. If you are so keen to storm into my office during my work days, anything you say can be heard by anyone who is around to hear it." Soonyoung stood, placing his hands in his pocket to making his point more clear.

Irene sighed heavily before turning back to Soonyoung with her arms crossed. "I don't want to divorce."

The air in the room instantly went stale and the mood went cold.

"I'm sorry?" Soonyoung questioned, his tone much more shocked than I was expecting.

"I am rescinding my side of the divorce claim." Irene stated again, this time with more confidence.

Soonyoung sighed and leaned his hands on the edge of his desk, head tilted down.

"I will talk to you later about this. I am very busy right now, and you need to leave." He said lowly.

"That's always your excuse. And who cares who hears. What? This new secretary who's only going to last a couple days like they all do? Psh. You never cared about anyone, always caring only about the business and the business's need. You never care." Irene ranted and stomped out of the office with a huff.

The door slammed shut and when the dust settled, Soonyoung and I didn't move a muscle.

Soonyoung's head was still lowered and he was breathing hard.

Quickly understanding that he needed a distraction, I spoke first.

"So that meeting?" I said softly.

Soonyoung's head popped up quickly and he had to take a couple seconds to remind himself where he is.

"Yes, yes, we should make our way over there." Soonyoung picked up his portfolio. He made his way over to the door while I picked up my supplies. I looked up and he was standing by the door, holding it open for me. "And I would appreciate if you didn't tell anyone about what happened." He whispered as I passed.

#seventeen #seventeen imagine #hoshi imagine #kwon hoshi #soonyoung imagine #kwon soonyoung imagine #hoshi #soonyoung #seventeen hoshi imagine #seventeen soonyoung imagine #kwon hoshi imagine

[hedonisthierophant]

Aching abyss

Aching abyss

The doctors proclaimed that he was alive, crowed over their victory, their triumph in snatching his fragile form from the jaws of death and conspiracy. Clay wasn’t so sure that he believed them. Oh he knew intellectually that he lived. His eyes beheld what unfolded before them, he was aware of various scents perfuming the air, he heard the constant drone of life around him, he was able to process the flavors of his food, his body was warm, his lungs filled and emptied themselves of air in a regular fashion, his bones muscles ligaments and tendons obeyed his commands, he felt sensation against his skin, and most importantly, his heart beat. This could be objectively verified, all he had to do was press a hand against it and feel its steady rhythm. Yet, despite overwhelming empirical evidence to the contrary Clay felt that he had died during the faithful procedure and what the doctors had so pridefully revived was merely an empty shell, a purposeless, empty husk of a man.

Before the operation Clayton had always looked forward to it as the door through which he would step into his new lease on life. Now he looked back on it ruefully as a pyrrhic victory. The result of a twisted covenant with some deity who was spiteful at worst and apathetic at best, they had given him a new life and in exchange taken away Clay’s sense of being alive. Yes his body was here, but was Clay here? That was a more complicated question altogether.

Clay tried first to explain his situation to his physicians, they assured him that these sorts of feelings were par for the course in transplant patients and would pass in time. Clay next set up a meeting with a therapist, discreetly and through a series of intermediaries. He didn’t have the courage to go on any websites or call any numbers for himself. Instead he delegated what he assumed was the more burdensome task to an assistant, he was certain he’d known her name at one point but since the transplant everyone who worked with him seemed to lose their individuality in a sea of faceless underlings, drones whose existence was based around snapping to his soft commands. His sleek black town car pulled up to an equally sleek glass skyscraper. The glass had been tinted green and was interspersed with frames of obsidian. He mumbled the name of his destination to a security guard in the lobby.

He was directed to the 151st floor, some hopeful, grateful voice buried in the back of his mind spoke with an abrasive cheer and reminded him that he’d never have been able to walk up 151 flights of stairs before the operation, maybe he should just to say that he had, after all he had plenty of time before his appointment. A petulant, bitter, far louder voice simpered in return that perhaps he should and his unfeeling misery and run up all 151 flights until his new heart gave out and he ended up in the ground where he belonged. The loudest most omnipresent voice spoke next, it commanded him to simply ride the elevator instead, this voice was the herald the emptiness inside him, a mouth that spoke for the vast abyss where his feelings had once been. He rode the elevator, contemplating whether this parody of life was the price for cheating death? He had been so afraid of the silence and stillness of the grave he’d never considered the idea that they could be draped over him like a burial shroud before he passed away. As he strode down the hall he was steeling himself for some unimaginable and invasive horror. The things his mother would say if she knew that he was seeing shrink. A much younger Clayton had actually mistaken the word “shrink” for a slur such was the venom with which he heard it passed his mother’s lips. He’d used it as a weapon hoping to strike back at a girlhood called him to fragile to play and had been met with laughter that was cruel and worse yet laced with pity.

He entered an upscale reception area suffused with an aura of enforced calm. Diffused light came from a few lamps that had been covered in simple cloths in addition to their shades. Some well concealed noise machine was causing an approximation of the sounds of the surf to bleed through the space, the floor was covered by an enormous, lush, pale green carpet. A portly woman with mousy hair and oversized spectacles handed him the intake forms. He stared at them, his brain lazily processing words like “health conditions, medications, prior diagnoses, history of treatment, presenting issue, drug use, alcohol use, suicide attempts and ideation,” he stared numbly at the forms wondering what the correct pattern of checkboxes was that could possibly communicate what was wrong with him. After several idle minutes the receptionist looked over “don’t worry about it dear many people find it difficult to put in writing, you just have a talk with our provider and she’ll fill one out for you afterwards, it’s no trouble at all.” His mother was laughing at him berating him for his inability to fill out a simple form, his dawdling would make this person’s job that much harder, he was already inconveniencing them and he hadn’t even met them, he was overwhelmed by the feeling that his mirror presence here was a bother.

This entire endeavor was a mistake. For once his body reacted, his pulse hammered, beads of sweat carved frosty path down his brow, he couldn’t get enough oxygen, he was dizzy, his deal with death had only bought him a minor reprieve apparently, he’d come here to discover how to feel alive again and instead he was going to die in this waiting room. Distantly, some part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. The rushing of his blood and the incessant pain in his head brought back memories of the table and what was left of his composure shattered as it was assaulted by those recollections. He heard a faint whirring, it grew louder as though some angry machine were approaching him. His beleaguered mind wandered if perhaps the Grim Reaper rode a scooter? A powerful voice broke through the chaos within him. He was commanded to raise his head, instinctively he did so.

A woman sat in front of him he thought but he couldn’t be sure, his vision swam, threatening to blur into unconsciousness. “Mr. Beresford?” Hearing his father’s name brought a fresh wave of turmoil it felt as though his throat completely closed, in a few moments it was possible that he might be face to face with his father and bare the full brunt of his ridicule for this display of frailty, for the disappointment he caused his father, for the failure of a son that he was. “Clayton?...Clay?” Someone was calling him, it’d be rude not to respond, he couldn’t be rude he would be punished. Reflexively he fought to bring the image before him into focus. He failed, but he was able to force us stammered “Yes?” past his tremulous lips. His effort was immediately rewarded, “Clay I’m Dr Mensah. If you would like I can lead you in a breathing exercise that may provide you with some relief. Would you like me to do that? If not I would like you to know that panic attacks pass and I will stay here with you until this one does.” Her voice was infused with an iron certainty. Clay gave her a weak nod of his head that was almost perceptible amidst his twitching and hyperventilation. She spoke in a calm voice , “I would like you to inhale whilst I count to four, then hold your breath whilst I count to four again then I would like you to exhale whilst I count to four, and hold your breath a second time whilst I count to four final time. We will repeat the process if necessary. She began to count in a determined rhythm. One… Two… Three… Four. As though he was experiencing this from far-flung distant place he was aware of the ritualized pace of his lungs filling, waiting and then emptying. The chaos that gripped him receded ever so slightly. They completed the exercise twice more.

Clay was finally able to open his eyes and properly take in his rescuer. But he had some difficulty parsing the vision that greeted him. Her voice filled his ears again almost hypnotic in its steadiness and placidity. “I imagine that was quite a difficult experience. Would you like to talk about what you are feeling or would you prefer to rest? Perhaps some water? Clay nodded mutely. She turned away from him and the whirring returned, she made her way over to a low table he had noticed before that had the trappings of a miniaturized café. She retrieved a recycled paper cup from a pile and extracted a glistening portion of water from an expensive looking machine. She crossed the space between them accompanied only by the sound of whirring. She offered the cup to Clay. He reached out and nearly splattered it over the both of them. His hands and started to shake just as he may contact with the edge of the cup. He was already prepared with a thousand apologies ready on his tongue, already hearing a lecture from his mother about making a full of himself. But the woman’s grip was steely and sure. The cup hardly moved despite Clay’s embarrassing flailing. Her expression remained unchanged “may I assist you?” Clay’s face was burning with shame that all he could do was nod unwilling to risk another bout of tremors. With one hand she brought the cup to his lips and placed the other at the back of his neck as a sort of support as she tipped the cup up and he drank in the cool liquid. Clay should’ve been humiliated, should’ve been outraged should’ve been indignant. Yes he given his permission but how dare this woman presume to help him in this way as though he were an invalid or worse yet, a child. He was about to make her regret her trespass with some scathing remark but he was consumed by the thought that this woman was the first person to touch him in months since his mother died. He looked down at her and realized for the first time that the source of the whirring had been the wheelchair that she was occupying. “Would you like to accompany me to my office?” All Clay could do was nod, he rose, his limbs being more cooperative than he anticipated. The sound of Clay’s shoes against the carpet was all but inaudible so close to the whir.

  He followed Dr. Mensah into a lushly appointed space. Gently lit by fairy lights with a single enormous couch arrayed against one back wall. Round the space there were several chairs pointed in the general direction of the couch. The wall was painted a pale green broken up by paintings of forests, mountains, and oceans.” Please sit wherever you’d like, or stand if you prefer. Make yourself comfortable.” Clay obediently perched on the edge of the couch fighting the natural instinct let himself sink into it his mother had disapproved horribly of anything that ruined his posture. The woman parks her wheelchair directly across from the couch, and waits. They sit in silence for about a moment before Clay blurts out the first thing on his mind. “I don’t like doctors.” “Perhaps it would be better for you to think of me simply as Beatrice then?” Again the only tool in his repertoire was to nod . “I would like you to tell me about what brings you in today if you feel so inclined, I got a glimpse of the distress you experience but I’d like more information so that I may place it within the proper context.” Years of being and vandalized and thought of week have left Clay with a bit of a sore spot around being anything less than perfect in the view of other people. He makes an effort to straighten his back even further and speaks in the distant tone his mother had employed when dismissing other people’s preposterous ideas as she so often did. “Distress? You must be mistaken ma’am. I’m fine.” He stares at her impassive face. The woman before him is perched in what Clayton assumes is an extremely high-end model of wheelchair looking for all the world as if she were in a throne and questioning an errant peasant. Her body framed by black leather and paint of the same color. Her right leg sits crossed over her left, giving Clay the impression that he is but a subject addressing a monarch, he hasn’t felt that way since his mother died. She is dressed for all the world as though she is one of the many high-stakes powerbrokers that have surrounded Clay’s entire life. Cream colored pants and a cream-colored blazer adorn her form, Clay’s first impression of her would have been that she was distant and inaccessible, unconcerned with those beneath her but this train of thought was derailed by the decidedly more human touches that graced her ensemble. Bangles that would’ve been out of place in Wall Street office, a tribal necklace, nails done to perfection but not merely buffed and coated in clear polish as was the habit of ladies on Wall Street face painted with only the lightest coding of makeup, a subtle red to her lips and black around her eyes.. Her nails glimmered a soft lavender color and several rings adorned her fingers. Her hair was in locks and gathered into a regal looking knot atop her head, secured by a lavender colored cloth. As they stared at each other Clay felt that he was being examined by some class of being several orders of magnitude beyond his comprehension. Finally she spoke, her voice bathed in a quiet authority, “people who are fine do not often experience panic attacks in our waiting room, Clay.” With that simple sentence it’s as though she’s drained all of Clay’s reserves of hostility. She continues, “I would imagine that this was the first time you’ve experienced something like that, perhaps your standard experience is more that of numbness?”

The floodgates open and Clay imparts to her all the apathy that has infused his existence since it was restarted that day on the table. She listens as he describes feeling like a windup doll merely going through a set of preprogrammed motions, acting alive but not feeling it. He describes the profound disconnect between himself and his emotions. The well of nothingness that has consumed him. She listens without interruption and when Clay can no longer think of anything to say they are enshrouded in silence. Clay can’t bear silence, it was quiet times like this that he hated the most before the transplant. When there were no distractions around and he could hear his own heartbeat. He’d made a macabre game of counting the beats wondering how many he had left before he hit zero. The average person’s heart beat 3,195,648,000 during their lifetime Clay had been obsessed with cardiology as a child after learning about the ticking time bomb inside his chest. He been able to recite all sorts of minutia related to the organ and its functioning, of course a particular attention was paid to transplants and the various gruesome fates that could await poor souls who had no choice but to undergo them or worse yet be denied the opportunity to do even that. Clay had always known with certainty of the doomed that he would experience but the smallest fraction of that instead. People were supposed to live to around 80 and yet it was a miracle that he made it to 22.

Clay imparts all this to Beatrice in the same unfeeling monotone because the crushing silence summons the screaming voice of his mother commanding him to take control of the situation, do something say something, be the performer that she had raised and not the useless lout. It is with a serene tone that Beatrice tells him that all his feelings are be expected from someone who’d been living on borrowed time, with one parent absent in the other abusive, suffered a near-death experience brought on by betrayal, followed by the trauma of a string of losses. Her words were cloaked in validation and understanding, enshrouded in a sincere seeming empathy. Hearing her speak made Clay want to cry but he knew he would be unable to. The session lit a tiny spark of feeling within him for the first time since his rebirth. Clay instantly became an addict, he booked a session next week and mustering what dignity he could left the office bed goodbye to the receptionist and descended back to the mass of scurrying mortals living their lives far below the glittering towers that had made up Clay’s. His town car was waiting at the entrance to the building, piloted to perfection by Mercy. Mercy was his chauffeur, assistant, bodyguard, confidant, and the closest thing he had left to a friend. She wore a simple black chauffeur’s uniform and, her face bare of any makeup, red hair concealed. Since his death he found it hard to trust people, to let them near him either emotionally or physically. Mercy had impeccable references, a degree in management from Harvard. She was proficient in three forms of martial arts and possessed a frightening level of accuracy when wielding firearms. She was the only one allowed anywhere near Clayton, any requests from his father’s company all were filtered through her, she ran his calendar, made all the arrangements for every facet of his day, and so shepherded him through his life. These two women were the light houses in Clayton’s so-called life. Mercy roused him each day, presented him with decisions that needed to be made, drove him aimlessly through the city, provided his meals, kept up with his medication, she was an almost invisible, almost silent, benevolent guardian. Beatrice in their weekly sessions helped Clayton begin to assess the level of damage that had been done to him long before you died. She helped to foster that flicker of life within him. Until he confronted her with a dilemma that he was certain would cause her to leave him.

Clayton tried his best to bask in the pleasures of life, to rekindle the flame of actually living life. The finest food tasted like bitter ash, and had to be forced down his throat. He walked the galleries and viewed great works of art, pieces that had once stirred his soul. Before he died he could’ve stared at those paintings for hours and been absolutely captivated, now they did no more for him than a child’s fumbling scribble. He visited the Opera and bought expensive equipment with which to listen to his favorite music, everything sounded as though he were hearing it from underwater, dull, distant, and boring. Films that he loved as a child played before him on the vast expanse of his home theater screen, he couldn’t bring himself to connect with a single scene, to feel anything whatsoever. This is where Clayton ran into trouble, he was forbidden from doing anything strenuous, for anyone else that might be fine. However, when you lived in the condition that Clay did nearly any activity that could bring the faintest spark of enjoyment was considered strenuous. No more gentle laps in the pool, no more mild jogs in the park, no more calm morning workouts, anything like skiing or basketball was completely out of the question. So yes, Clayton lived but he wasn’t alive. He took his questions to the Internet he figured what he needed was some shot of dopamine or else a blast of adrenaline but every activity suggested by the thrill junkies in their wild and free death-defying corners of cyberspace was well beyond Clay’s current ability. He was not permitted to travel by plane as the elevation might put stress on his heart, so visions of some faraway location where he could simply bask in the beauty of nature or a new culture would have to remain so. What drove at Clay the deepest however was the physical manifestation of his loneliness, there were days when his limbs failed him and Mercy efficiently helped him dress, her steady hands doing work that his had been ,capable of since he was a mere child. Fastening buttons here, tying laces there. The experience would leave him burning with shame every time despite the fact that he had no pretenses at an invalid such as himself ever being afforded much modesty, let alone dignity. Worse than the shame though was the ache that burrowed deep within him, the lightest touch of her fingers against his flesh soothed the hollow throb within him reducing all-consuming agony to the slightest aching twinge for an exquisite instant. Vicious vultures circled constantly in his mind filling his thoughts with wicked whispers imparting upon him the knowledge that he may as well already be dead, that this wasn’t a life worth living. He laid all of these burdens at Beatrice’s feet, she sent him to a psychiatrist who prescribed first this antidepressant, and then that, the happy pills gave him energy, but no purpose or drive, he was merely a remote control toy whose batteries had been supercharged. He no longer slept until two in the afternoon and the vultures screeching had been reduced to near silence but the absence of that cacophony and the less time he spent in blissful unconsciousness, unburdened by his reality for precious hours he wished he could stretch into eternity, the more he was enveloped in emptiness. When you were always drowning in pain its briefest absence induced an incredible sense of euphoria, there was no pleasurable feeling but the sheer existence of even a single iota of life, of a moment free of agony became a dangerously addictive high, the sort of sheer bliss that all hedonists would trade their souls for. Clay’s realization came through his dreams. The nocturnal adventures that his subconscious conjured for him were often replete with reminders of his suffering. His father’s abuse and death, his mother’s disappointment, Sam’s betrayal and Jack’s complicity, his mother’s death. It was as though his psyche was daring him to find even the single weakest reason to go on, as though some demon, livid that it had been cheated when he escaped death, embarked on a quest to torture Clay night after night, to remind him of all his pain and loss until he saw the price he paid for the cursed gift that was his second chance and chose to reject it, this malignant creature would use his own mind to rake him over the coals, to turn his only sanctuary into a place of torment until he gave in and died, probably by his own hand, then the demon would be satisfied and absconded with his prize back to hell, satisfied in having righted this imbalance of the cosmic scales that had allowed Clay, however transiently to escape his fate.

Having survived the table and experiencing the visions or astral projection or whatever type of hallucination he had during the process had left Clay with at least some ability to command his mind to come to his aid. Like a mantra he hurt himself repeat over and over, “show me something nice, make me feel alive.” Once, twice, thrice, upon the fourth repetition there was a change. It was early morning and the once brilliant light of dawn that would’ve drawn a smile from Clay no matter what his mood had saturated every inch of his apartment. Clay was lounging in his favorite chair, luxuriating in the feel of the plush cushions conforming to his body, Mercy stood over him gently carting her fingers through his hair draining his worries away and causing the slightest flicker to spark in the candle that had come to represent Clay’s joie de vivre…for the first time since his death he awoke hard.

Clay was groggy at first and then conscious of the delicious friction of his cock rubbing against his underwear, the ghosts of dream-Mercy’s hands still gliding over his scalp. He reached down to cup himself astounded at the arousal he felt, it had been so long, since the morning before his death that his body had given him even a phantom help that he might be able to indulge one of his most base urges. He’d miserably resigned himself to subsisting on half memories of his last morning with Sam before he discovered her betrayal, the colors bled from those images and he hated himself. Distantly he wondered if he’d given himself the opportunity to seek other inspiration some thought not tainted with her memory to make him hard if it would’ve worked, but his body was so thoroughly uninterested in the possibility of ever feeling pleasure again right up until this morning. A happy sigh escaped his lips as he teased himself through the fabric of his silk pajama bottoms. In his nascent pleasure his eyes open sleepily and he realized that Mercy was due to enter his room in a matter of minutes to wake him and begin their daily routine. His arm darted out with the speed and urgency he had not felt since that day and he fired off a terse message to her informing her that he intended to sleep in for at least another half an hour. Predictably, Mercy responded with a simple affirmative nearly the instant after his finger pressed the send key.

 Without her Clay was free to bask in the return of at least a fragment of what it felt like to be human. Sure, it was the most primitive and unworthy fragment but it was something. He slid his clothes off with trembling h hands gasping at the feel of smooth fabric rubbing over the most sensitive parts of his body. He shivered and his nipples became rock hard as he was exposed to the chill air. The illicitness of the situation alone was enough to have him leaking, he brought a shaking index finger to slit and sent it on a slow journey back to his mouth. The taste of himself sent a spasm of shocked pleasure through his whole body. He had worried somewhere distant in the far dark reaches of his mind that he forgotten this. But resonance of recollections guided his movements and he moaned in quiet pleasure as his hands trailed up and down his body causing every hair to stand on end. He circled the shaft with his right hand and gave it the gentlest squeeze, a spurt of precum issued from the head and he laughed in boyish delight, delirious in the joy of rediscovering the art of self-love. Clayton spat into his hand and returned it to his twitching cock. Under normal circumstances he’d of turned his nose up at the idea of using saliva as lubricant but desperate times called for desperate measures and he was willing to abandon some of his principles for the chance to make this feel even the slightest bit better. He tweaked one nipple and almost embarrassed himself with the keening sound that it tore from his lips, rather he would be embarrassed if enough of his mind was not submerged in an ocean of want and could muster enough conscious thought to care. He brought his hand up to the other nipple and began playing with them in unison delicious shivers and twitches racing up his spine crossing him to cross and uncrossed his legs curl and uncurl his toes throw his head back and moaned as he wallowed in wildly wanton madness, mesmerized by the long forgotten pleasure he was capable of bringing himself. For the stolen half an hour he wasn’t Clayton Beresford Jr, the poor fragile billionaire, he was Clay, a horny 22-year-old like any other across the world who had the strength to do something about it. Delirious laughter escaped his lips as he began to massage his balls rolling them between his fingers gently tugging on the sensitive skin as it sent breathy gasps and moans up his throat. His head thrashed this way and then that in response to his ministrations his body giving a rapturous response to its own performance. Some faraway part of him was aware of the sweat that was beginning to soak his skin and distantly ever so faintly as though he were listening to the memory of the shadow of an echo from deep beneath the surface of water he heard his heartbeat. Clay let out a joyous little whoop as he brought himself closer and closer to that elusive peak of pleasure that he was chasing. His body on fire from the delicious torture, screaming at him that it wanted this, no that, that if Clay failed on this quest to satisfy himself that his very form would punish his loss by severing the single gossamer thread that allowed him to remain tethered to this mortal plane. Retribution for teasing himself and failing to deliver on the ultimate few instance of pleasure that would silence all the noise in his head and the complaints of his overtaxed body would be death, brutal in its suddenness. He felt as though he was quite literally, jerking off for his life. If he didn’t ascend to the peak of ecstasy the fire would reach his heart and it would stop once and for all and there would be no one to sacrifice themselves this time for the sake of him getting his rocks off. The train of thought made him laugh deliriously, winds and moans escaped his lips as reedy, needy breaths were all his lungs were capable of producing. He felt absolutely soaked with pre-come, a glance downward confirmed that there was so much of it that it spilled over his significant shaft and coded the light dusting of pubic hair and had spread to drip off his hips on both sides. He rutted mindlessly against his own hand for a few minutes more chasing ever ascending bubbles of bliss. His jaw hung open, his hair and body covered in sweat, heat rolling off him as though he were running a fever  yet still he could not reach his peak, his moans turned to sobs of anguish as he pursued a climax that was constantly just out of reach. His muscle contracted, his heart beat like a machine gun, his cock twitched and spasmed, all to no avail. No! No! No! He wanted to scream with every fiber of his being to roar out his anger and sadness at the uncaring gods who cursed him to live this way, tears streaked down his face as he felt the waves of pleasure begin to crash further and further away from him, for the storm that had gotten him this far to subside. Part of his body began to relax, this was for the best he was pushing himself too hard, this was his new normal and he was condemned to adjust to it. Was he to be denied final satisfaction even after all this momentum had been built up? He snarled in rage, no he looked down at himself and saw that his cock had turned a pained shade of purple and was gushing precum with anticipation, he was so close just a few more strokes, just a bit of a tighter grip, and he would come, come like people all over the world did every day and, he would spend a precious few seconds gliding on a cloud of euphoria. He would be alive again. Clays hips jerked and bucked wildly as, his stomach clenched and his toes curled in anticipation of Nirvana. He let out a guttural, wanton moan, half pleading with his body and have commanding it to finish this, to let his live for just a few seconds, to let him feel. Tears streamed down his face as the pleasure turned to pain and his body refused. Clayton’s desperate wail of sorrow was cut off by a sharp pain in his chest. Agony brought him back to himself and through eyes that could see all too clearly he heard an alarm shrieking on his phone and Mercy burst through the door, her fingers keying in 911 and bringing it halfway to her ear before she got a good look at her employer. The shame roasted Clay alive.

 An hour later after a litany of apologies and offers to find her better employment elsewhere and incoherent sobs, he whispered a stuttered explanation of his situation to Beatrice through the phone that Mercy held to his shaking body. His salvation arrived an hour after that. Mercy opened the door to his sprawling penthouse apartment and brought him a simple black blindfold which she affixed for him with customary professionalism. Clayton’s world was reduced to sounds than, he heard the enticing click of high heels on tile as a third person entered his bedroom. “Hello Clayton, I am Madame Olivia, I am a professional intimacy expert, a sexual surrogate, I’ve been informed of your difficulties and asked by Dr. Mensah to lend my talents to provide you with some relief and sense of normalcy. The blindfold was my suggestion as I worried that seeing my face might cause you to feel a sense of shame or unworthiness.” Do I have your consent to proceed?” Clay nods, her voice rings out, gentle yet firm, “Speak when spoken to Clay.” He shudders as a breathless Yes” escapes him. I am going to start out with small but intimate touches and we shall go from there until you give me a safe word.” Clay, what shall be your safeword?” she asked in a tone that spoke in equal measures of clinical competence and indulgent care. With absolute certainty Clay spoke the word “awake.” “And what shall be your return signal if you wish to resume our activities after you’ve used your safeword?” “Starving,” he says with an unfiltered honesty that surprises him.” “Very well.” Her voice is like warm honey, enticing and comforting all at once, but she speaks no more she advances upon him.

Clay has started to drip with anticipation again as he hears the click of her heels signal her approach. Each sharp, sure step a herald of his impending salvation. He whimpers as delicate, elegant fingers encircle his own, he’s only able to stand the rush of emotion and Ron need it comes from the simple pleasure of holding her hand for a pair of minutes before tears prick his eyes and he’s reminded of how pathetic he is before he gasps out his safeword. Instantly the hand is gone from his, as if by magic. If her touch had lit him aflame, her absence had frozen him he’s only able to bear one minute of wintry isolation and a fear of never having this opportunity again before he gasps out the return signal. They spend hours like that in a tortuously slow dance of advance and retreat, her hand moves from his to his forearm to his shoulder to his neck. He can only stand a few minutes of each touch at a time but even sooner he’s calling out for her again. She gently massages his neck and he mewls with pleasure. Only stopping her because he feels as though he could come from this alone. After his retreat is canceled and she moves forward once more her enchanted, soft hands caress his hair and rub gently against his scalp. He’s floating on waves of satisfaction. Eventually her fingers brushed delicately over the blindfold and he imagines that he can feel them running ever so gently over his eyelids themselves. Over the course of another few minutes she makes her way down to his nipples and begins to work them so much more softly than he had, he cries from the pleasure. She trails her hand over his abdominal muscles rubbing gentle circles into the quivering flesh. When he thinks that she’ll at last reaches caulk she takes a detour and skips over entirely and begins rubbing gently at his feet, massaging them with oil, that warm and has him twitching and gasping from the sensation of pleasure it’s causing to run through his body. They have to take five separate breaks before she is able to complete her work with his feet. Satisfied, she runs her hands back up his body and gently encircles his drenched caulk in her hand, his fluids mixed with the oil on her hands and create a divine sliding sensation free of all but the barest trace of friction behind the blindfold his eyes rolled back in his head. It feels so different from when he had done it in that ill advised session earlier, her hand is much smaller and more delicate than his own, the feel it creates is velvety. It smelled different the first time too, his fumbling attempts had filled the room with the smell of sex, sweat, and desperation combined with the odor of sadness. Now his senses are filled with the gentle floral notes of her perfume, some spice that seems to be emanating from the oil she uses, the faintest trace of his own arousal. The sounds are different as well, before they had been wild and desperate now his soft sighs, whimpers, groans, and moans, along with murmured pleas gently collide with the otherwise quiet air around them. She fondles his balls and works his shaft, tweaking and pulling just so. They are however engaged in a delicate balancing act, her mission is to help them achieve orgasm without putting too much strain on his body. It would be easy this would be over in a matter of minutes instead of the hours it’s taken so far if he could handle even the slightest bit of rougher or more frantic treatment. But the flame of pleasure inside him needs to be gently stoked and built up over time so that it does not burn him again. Eventually her hands wander back up and down his body in soothing patterns that he is not quite aware of. She returns and applies a helping of oil here and there massaging his chest tweaking his nipples in a heavenly rhythm and allowing his cock to relax and soften again before making another attempt. The edges of anger and desperation well up inside Clay and he begs her to be just a bit rougher with him let her nails dig into his skin to get this over with so that he no longer has to be spread out and vulnerable before her so that he can get off just like any other god damn young man in the city. She gives no verbal response instead she merely places her hand against his throat and squeezes gently, the most gentle of threats. His mouth goes dry as she massages his Adam’s apple and he murmurs an apology even as he can feel himself spilling a bit of pre-come at this change in dynamic.

There’s one part of his body that she’s avoided so far the garishly ugly scar that came with his new hollow existence. Clay can even bring himself to look upon it in the mirror. Eventually she slowly let her fingers trace it and he gasps as the sensitive scar tissue reacts to attach and waves of pleasure rolled down his body. He wants to stop her he wants to beg her not to do that not to remind him what he is not here in this safe place where it’s just the two of them under Mercy’s watchful eye. In response to his mumbled protests she merely presses harder against scar rubbing soft little circles into it that have him making a high keening sound somewhere between distress and pleasure. Tears fall freely from his eyes and soak the blindfold as he shakes his head vigorously but he cannot bring himself to use the safeword. She must sense that he’s conflicted about this because she redoubles her efforts rubbing it gently and stoking the flame of pleasure that she spent hours coaxing to life and to reaching new heights safely. Clayton can feel himself dripping, that’s not new he’s been absolutely soaked and alternating between rock hard and soft but hypersensitive in this slow burn arousal he’s been feeling for what feels like an eternity now. “Let go,” she commands. Clayton can only desperately shake his head filled with the new fear that if he does come that the fire will burn him again and stop his heart and he’ll die right here right now, he doesn’t like the way he’s living but he doesn’t want to die he’s terrified suddenly petrified of what the end of this night of pleasure will mean. “You’re safe, I’ve got you,” let go she impresses upon him yet again. Clayton is openly sobbing now. He knows he could use the safeword and bring this to an end but he’s trapped between death by fire and death by ice because he knows that stopping her before she’s done will kill him just as surely as allowing her to finish. “Let go,” Her words are infused with an unshakable authority as though she’s an angel giving a pronouncement from on high. Faced with that command, Clayton begins to relax, plenty of people say they want to die during sex. If this is how his life is going to end it’s not such a bad way to spend his final few moments he thinks, wryly. She leads him right up to the edge. No longer fighting his resisting body he allows himself to get closer and closer to oblivion pre-come pouring from his cock and his entire body shuddering, loud noises of pleasure leaving his mouth, but he’s unable to take that final step, to allow himself to plummet into a free fall of pleasure, until she presses a lingering kiss to the scar adorning his chest and says “Good boy.” Clayton’s world explodes. He hadn’t ever realized what the slow journey up the hill of pleasure could feel like, always concerned with raising up the mountain. It’s as though he’s burning but not with heat, as though he swallowed liquid sunlight all his nerve endings dance in pleasure, as electricity travels up and down his spine, his muscles clench for all their worth one final time and for the moment right before release he suspended in beautiful agony before his muscles relax and a euphoric moan leaves him as his cock spurts wave after wave of cum in the air, painting his stomach, torso, lashes and brows in his own seed. Tears, sweat and cum stain him and blend together as he collapses back onto his pillow and falls asleep, a beatific smile, his first since he died, adorning his angelic face He’s finally alive again.

#clay beresford #smut #awake

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Trapped”

Almost one year ago, someone tried to kill The Joker in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way, getting hit instead. With a fractured skull and broken bones, she was out of business for 6 months; when she finally recovered, The Queen of Gotham wasn’t the same anymore. Trapped inside her own mind and exhibiting severe cognitive impairment, Y/N’s life switched upside down without any hope of ever returning to normal.

Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5

“Do you think she’s faking it?” Santos whispers and his boss Jericho replies under his breath.

“Nope, not faking it. Y/N’s been like that since she recovered from the accident 5 months ago.”

The mobster and the newbie bodyguard watch you in silence while you cuddle with your yellow teddy bear: from time to time you kiss its forehead and then squeeze him tightly in your arms again.

“I heard rumors,” Santos addresses the gossip. “Is it true she’s like that because of Mister Joker?”

“Kind of,” Jericho mumbles. “Someone tried to kill him in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way; she got hit instead. Full impact, you know? Broken bones and fractured skull plus an inoperable hematoma that presses on her frontal lobe. She was out of business for 6 months and when she finally recovered… Well, you can see the result; major cognitive impairment. Not herself anymore…”

“You sure are informed boss,” Santos chuckles. “Weird a man like Mister Joker chose to allow this situation for so many months: 6 months for her to recover then 5 extra ones of this behavior… He’s not tolerant person.”

Jericho lifts his shoulders up, indifferent to the henchman’s insinuations.

“How do you think sex is?” Santos winks and a crabby voice freezes the words on his lips.

“Challenging,” J growls, displeased at the speculation on his private life.

The two mobsters turn in their chair and he passes by in a hurry, taking a sit by you on the small couch situated in the middle of the warehouse.

“I’m done inspecting the cargo, looks good. My crew is putting the money together for the payment; should be done shortly.”

Alarm chimes on his cellphone and he detaches a tiny pouch out of his suit’s pocket, getting your attention too.

“Hey Pumpkin, you have to take your meds.”

“Hm?...” the confused Y/N stares at him as she bounces the teddy bear on her knees.

“Here, take this,” J offers 3 capsules with a bottle of water and you have difficulty understanding the request. Yet he’s not annoyed and helps you regardless of having an audience: The Joker plainly doesn’t give a damn.

“Perhaps if you give her a lollipop she’ll be receptive; might improve sex also,” Santos snorts, ignoring Jericho’s instant warning:

“Watch your mouth!”

The offender is not worried though: he believes that being his boss’s protégé grants him immunity regarding his own carelessness.

“It might,” The King’s sinister grin creeps up on the red lips. “Thanks for the advice, I’ll try it.”

“She loves that teddy bear, huh?” Santos implies and surprisingly enough J explains why:

“I got it for her on our first date. We were walking downtown late at night, Y/N saw it displayed in a window at a toy store and loved it. So I shattered the glass, took it and both ran away since I triggered the alarm. I had this feeling that pretending to be sweet would get me laid.”

“Did it work?” the goon pressures for a confession, laughing at The Joker’s honest answer:

“No.”

“Sir!!” Panda yells from across the huge room. “Can we get you for a sec?”

“Excuse me,” he sneers and leaves the group while Jericho preaches to the bodyguard:

“Are you completely stupid?! Don’t say stuff like this in front of him!!”

“You’re one of his main business partners and he won’t risk initiating trouble. My opinion is that Y/N and Mister Joker are playing games, totally pretending about her condition. Let me try a puny experiment and find out if I’m correct.”

“What are you doing?!” the puzzled Jericho inquires as Santos gets up from his chair and sneaks by the sofa.

“I never had the pleasure of meeting Y/N, but if the information circulating around is accurate about her she will shred me to pieces if I do this.”  

He inspects the surroundings for a moment: not a soul nearby and the unexpected slap landing on your cheek makes you jump.

“Anybody home?” Santos bends over to analyze your reaction.

“Cut it out!” Jericho raises his voice, uneasy about his bodyguard’s deed.

“Mister Joker!!” Frost shouts from beyond a few creates he’s sorting out while keeping an eye on you.

Only idiots would have the impression J doesn’t have a system in place appointed to ensure your safety; obviously Santos is one of them.

“Boss!” Jonny reports to The Joker emerging from the back room. “Santos slapped Y/N!”

“I didn’t!” the latest defends his conduct, worried to notice your furious boyfriend stomping towards him.

“Let’s not be hasty,” Jericho attempts to fix this major mess-up yet The Clown Prince of Crime removes his gun from the holster, shooting Santos in the head: he knows Frost wouldn’t lie, thus he doesn’t need a justification for murder.

“Jesus, Mister Joker! You didn’t have to do that!” Jericho reprimands although he should zip it.

“You let him disrespect me on my territory?!” The Joker yanks at your hand. “Let’s go, Pumpkin!”

“I had no clue he’ll do it, ok?”

“If you can’t control your men, then give up leadership!” J drags you after him as you struggle to catch up. “The deal is off!” he screams and Jericho is unhappy about the outcome.

“What do you mean the deal is off??! We’ve been planning this for weeks!”

“Take your merchandize, disappear and I’ll enjoy my money, is that clear enough for you?!” the crazy green haired individual slams the gate, guiding you to the car in the parking lot. “Why are you such a pushover?” he angrily scolds. “I’m so tired of this crap!” J shoves Y/N in the passenger’s sit, aggravated to the point of blaming her for ruining his profitable transaction.

************* “That was such a good deal and I blew it! It’s all your fault!” he accelerates while you seek to make sense of everything thrown your way: when memories, concepts and sounds are melted in a brain lacking the affluence of logic, forming simple sentences physically hurts.

“You made me lose my temper!” The Joker lashes out since he’s aware his decision to cancel the arrangement with Jericho wasn’t the best. “You can’t defend yourself and you barely articulate elementary words! I miss having conversations with you, Y/N! Can your mind comprehend this?! You used to be funny, sassy and witty! You’re accountable for what happened, you dumb woman! I wouldn’t have done the same for you, I hope you know that!!!!”

You close your eyes, concentrating very hard on his remarks: something about wit, sass and… and…

It’s too much so you cover your ears, which prompts him to completely have a meltdown.

“Get out of the car!” he hits the breaks, leaning over to open the door on your side. “Get out I said!” he screams and forces you out against your will: you start crying, incapable of discerning what he wants and it makes you increasingly anxious. “Go be useless on your own!” he closes the door and takes off, abandoning Y/N without money or any other means in the industrial area outside Gotham City.

J continues to drive for another 15 minutes before halting at Southampton railway crossroads: the barriers are blocking the path and the red light keeps blinking, a sign the train is approaching. Not a lot to do besides waiting so he deeply exhales, still fuming at today’s events.

The Joker huffs at the sight of your teddy bear resting in between the seats; you probably dropped it when he nicely asked you to flee the vehicle.

Why are you attached to this boring stuffed animal to begin with? I mean, each time it requires washing you won’t budge from the laundry room until it’s returned to you. After the accident you carry it everywhere so maybe you wonder where it’s at…

J taps the steering wheel, pissed this idea randomly popped to bother him.

Nothing to be concerned about, he ditched you in the industrial area… that’s been closed for the last four years… the factories are empty, no people there… except creeps… searching for easy prey… like you…

“Fuck!” he abruptly backs out and the skid marks on the gravel certainly indicate he’s in no rush at all.

In less than 15 minutes he sees you limping on the right side of the road and slowly pulls over, waiting for you to get to the car. However, there’s a small fact The Joker didn’t anticipate: Y/N disregards the car plus its driver and keeps walking.

“Great…” he sighs. Stepping on his pride isn’t common practice for him, yet he grabs the yellow toy, sprints out of the SUV and follows the upset Queen. “Hey Pumpkin! Hey!!”  

You immediately turn around and stutter, frustrated:

“Y-you left me!!”

J is stunned to hear what he considers a whole tirade coming out of you; he’s positive it took a lot of effort.

“Umm…you forgot your teddy,” he extends his arms and you snatch it, hugging the plush bear to your chest. “I don’t understand what’s so important about a cheap…”

“Hm?” you frown, interrupting.

“The toy I got for you,” J repeats. “Why do you like it?” he simplifies the phrase so you can better process its meaning.

“Reminds…”, you strain really hard to organize your thoughts, “Reminds me… when you liked me… when I was… when I was  smart…” and you wipe your tears, upset. “Now… now I’m stupid…”

The Joker doesn’t know what to say and him not having a reply it’s a rare occurrence.

“You’re not stupid,” he mutters and because you won’t quit sobbing the question arises: “Hey Y/N, who’s my girl?”

What is he talking about…? A girl?...What girl?...

You spin to check your surrounding and J lectures, exasperated.

“For God’s sake, Princess. I’m talking about you: you’re my girl!”

“Hm?”

“Let’s put the neurons in your beautiful brain to rest, shall we? I think they’re oversaturated,” The Clown Prince of Crime decides, pleased to see he distracted you and you’re not crying anymore. “Are you hungry?”

You appear lost and he hints:

“You want food? We can get pizza, wings, possibly ice-cream from our favorite place. OK?”

“Pizza?” your face lights up and so does his without him realizing.

“A-ha. You love your peperoni, true?”

Oh boy, thank heavens the trick worked and you’re in the car again without any additional energy from his part; you didn’t caught on to it and it’s perfect. I guess your situation has a few perks.

“Hey Y/N, you know what else I miss?” The Joker cruises up the street, sulking. “Our fights! I swear I do! I lived for that shit! When you told me you hated me and I wanted to end you,” he snickers at the recollection. “If you hated me so much why did you save me?”

“No hate…” you smile and he’s truly amazed you kept up with his rambling. “Love…” you playfully touch his shoulder with the teddy bear’s paw.

The King of Gotham is speechless again; he avoids glaring in your direction and he’s relieved you don’t have enough transparency to notice how flustered he is.

“Pumpkin…” J grumbles in a low tone. “Do you believe that after that blood clot in your brain is reabsorbed, you’ll be more like your old self? The doctors said it won’t make a difference, but what the hell do they know?! Please say yes, even if it’s a lie. Hey Pumpkin,” he reiterates since you emotionlessly gaze at the landscape outside. “Say yes.”

“Hm?”

“SAY: YES,” The Joker persists.

“Yes?”

“Good girl,” he smirks and hastens towards the city. “You want ice-cream first?” the inquiry continues, yet J is used to monologues regardless. “Are you gonna let me have a bite? Can you predict what else I would like a bite of?” he leans over and whispers in your ear.

“Hm?...” the disoriented Y/N crinkles her nose.

“Dammit!” The Clown Prince of Crime exclaims. “You’re supposed to mention it’s indecent and then agree to it, Y/N!”

What does he want now?... something about  a bite?

You reach over and take his hand, sinking your teeth in the laughing mouth tattoo.

J snorts and then starts cracking up with all his heart, the awkward noises making you giggle.

”What am I going to do with you, Princess?” he shakes his head, amused nevertheless at your interpretation.

The Queen doesn’t answer, very captivated by The Joker’s silver grin; one could estimate it makes her happy although she can’t pinpoint the reason why. Y/N snuggles with the teddy bear that the madman stole for her on their first date hoping he’ll get laid, already delighted about their upcoming lunch.

The woman may not be the same person she was before the accident, but at least one detail is unchanged: she’s still The Joker’s Pumpkin.    

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #the joker jared leto #the joker suicide squad #the joker #joker #joker fanfiction #joker imagine #joker jared leto #joker suicide squad #mister j #Mistah J #dc #dcu

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Medical Help

(Story Post; New Character!)

The building was rather unassuming at first. It appeared to be similar to the government building Theo worked out of, but a little bigger. Henderson used his ID to get them inside and then took him to the elevator. There were a lot of buttons inside which surprised Theo since the place was only a few stories high. After a moment he realised that the numbers on the bottom three quarters of the panel were all basement floors. Henderson selected one and they were on their way down quickly. The unexpected drop made Theo hold his stomach in shock. It felt like a lot of fluid sloshed around and it threw off his balance a bit that he had to grab Henderson for support. When the doors opened up, they were in a room that looked like any other reception at a small hospital or private practice. There was only one person in the waiting area minding their own business and they looked completely human. At the front desk, Theo saw what appeared to be the most beautiful human being he’d ever seen. Köbi smiled at them. “Hi there. Can I get your name, please?”

“Henderson Neil, but I brought my friend to be looked at,” Henderson said. “Do you have an appointment?” Köbi asked Theo. “No, but I'm looking for a second opinion on something and Henderson suggested I come here,” Theo said. “Oh, um... We don't usually take walk-ins I think... Lemme ask the doctor.” Köbi picked up the phone and called the doctor through the intercom. When it was picked up, he talked softly. “Hey, Syd. We have a walk-in here... They're with an employee... Okay, thank you.” “So?” Henderson probed. “You're in luck,” Köbi said. “We just had a no show, so the doctor has some time for you before the next patient. In the future though, we are very busy so you will have to make an appointment.” “Thanks a lot,” Henderson said. “Can I leave my buddy here in your hands? I gotta make a class.” Köbi nodded. “Mmhm. Can I get your name, buddy?” “It's Theo. Théodore Bernard.” Köbi typed it into his computer. “Ah, you're in the system. That's convenient for me...” “I'm sorry, I'm in the system?” “Yes, you're a government employee, right?” Köbi stated. “Even if you don't work directly with this department, APID has records of all government employees. It's a security thing.” “Oh... Okay, I see.” The doctor appeared from down the hall and placed a file folder at the front desk. “Köbi, I'm going to need you to input these while I'm with this patient, please.” “Sure thing.” Köbi took the file and placed it beside his computer. “This is Théo. He's your walk in.” Theo was a little surprised that Köbi actually pronounced his name the proper French way, but then again, he did have some kind of European accent. While he liked that, it was a little weird because he hadn’t heard it like that in months. “Hello, Théodore. I am Dr. Sydryn Aias. Please follow me,” Sydryn said, turning and heading back down the hall. The full name drop was a little weirder to hear. Usually only his aunt called him Théodore. “Oh, um...” Theo started following them. “Hi, doctor. Uh, I don't do it often, but last time I did a walk in, I had to fill out a form...” “Yes, yes. Information on your medical concern so that we can determine the level of urgency. No need,” Sydryn said bringing him to their office. “You can just tell me, although I imagine from the way your clothes don't fit that it has to do with sudden unanticipated growth in the mid-section.” “Y-Yeah!” Theo was a bit impressed. He located the exam table and got himself up onto it. “My doctor didn't really seem to think much of it, but I swear, when I woke up this morning, I just had a few rolls. Now it's like a beach ball.” “Théo, your gender, please,” Sydryn asked. “Oh, I'm a man,” Theo answered, though a little caught of guard. “He/Him. But it sounds like you guessed that I'm trans.” “Not necessarily, but it is relevant to the questioning,” Sydryn stated. “So, I imagine your GP ruled out pregnancy.” Theo nodded. “He did an ultrasound. It showed nothing more than fluid.” “Fluid?” Sydryn started typing on their computer. “In what part? Stomach? Liver? Intestine? Uterus? Kidney?” “He didn't say but I imagine it was just in the general...space of my stomach,” Theo said. “I dunno.” “You ‘dunno' is right... Do you have copies of this ultrasound?” Sydryn asked. “No, sorry.” “Fine... We'll have to do another.” Sydryn got up from their computer. “I recommend a trans-vaginal ultrasound but I won't do it if you're not comfortable with that, considering I am new to you.” Theo flushed. “Trans-vaginal...” He rubbed his forehead. “Honestly, I just want to know what's wrong with me, so whatever... Let's do it.” “Good. Do you have any ongoing medical conditions that may cause you pain in your pelvic region?” Sydryn asked. “No.” Theo shook his head. “Are you menstruating?” “Nope.” “Have you ever had a trans-vaginal ultrasound before?” “No. Does it hurt?” Sydryn shook their head. “It shouldn’t hurt, however some find it uncomfortable. The tool used is called a probe. It's about two centimetres in diameter and it is placed inside a condom and lubricated to ease passage into the vagina.” Theo chuckled uncomfortably. “You could've taken me to dinner first...” “It's better that you haven't eaten yet so that we can rule out any meals as an effect on your condition,” Sydryn replied. “Have you eaten recently?” “Not since lunch...” Theo said, a bit more uncomfortable since the doctor didn't share in his joke. “Good.” Sydryn got up and retrieved a patient gown for Theo. “Please put this on.” They pulled the curtain closed that encircled the exam table to allow Theo some privacy. Theo did as told, nervously undressing and pulling on the gown. The doctor had picked out a decently large one, so his middle didn't pull too much on the thin material. When he was done, he pulled back the curtain. Sydryn had stepped out for a moment but came back into the room when they heard the curtain. “Follow me, please.” Theo nodded and followed the doctor to another room where the imaging equipment was set up. He was directed up onto another exam bed and he reclined, resting his hands on his stomach. “Please rest your feet up on these platforms here and here,” Sydryn said, pointing to the pedal like appendages of the bed. Theo spread his legs as he did as told. He watched as the doctor prepared a very long probe and lubricated it. He tensed up instinctively as the probe was brought near his nether regions. “Theodore, please relax,” Sydryn said. “Have you had a pap smear before?” “Yeah.” “The pressure should be similar. Some would say this is easier,” Sydryn said. “Should you feel any pain however, do tell me.” “Okay.” Theo tried to breathe deep and relax himself. The probe was inserted moments later. The doctor looked to the monitor for information. For the next few minutes, they turned the transducer slowly, stopping occasionally to study the image. Theo didn’t really know what to look at so he just waited for it to be over. When it was, Sydryn removed the probe and set it aside to be cleaned later. “So?” Theo asked, putting his legs together. “Did it show anything?” Sydryn sighed. “It's inconclusive. However, it is clear that you have a large build-up of fluid within your uterus, much like with a pregnancy. There is an intact membrane like that of the amniotic sac, however there is no evidence of a foetus within. The question now is, what is this fluid build up and what caused it.” “So what do we do?” Theo asked. “I have this balloon of liquid in my uterus and what? Do I hope it goes away?” Sydryn shook their head. “No. I suggest we pop it.” Theo tensed at the thought. “Uh, what?” “If we, quote, break your water, unquote, we can, a., reduce the distension of your stomach, and b., collect some of the fluid as a sample and study it to determine its origin,” Sydryn explained. Theo rubbed his stomach. “...Oh... Do you think it's safe to do that?” Sydryn nodded. “Yes, it's like you're giving birth to an imaginary baby, but without a lot of the pain and stretching.” Theo swallowed hard. “If it'll make this stomach go away, then I guess let's do it...” Sydryn went to wash their hands and get new gloves. They called in Köbi from the front desk to assist and he got the tools ready. As Köbi was placing a plastic basin underneath the edge of the bed, Sydryn had Theo put his feet back up on the stirrups. “Now, is this going to hurt at all?” Theo asked. “It's not likely to hurt so much as give relief,” Sydryn said holding up what looked to be a hook on a stick. “It might feel like you're urinating but from a different hole.” “Alright...” The hook was inserted inside and Theo tried to relax again. After a moment inside, he felt a sudden popping sensation and then the rush of fluid out of his uterus and out between his legs. It was incredibly satisfying and he even noticed his stomach visibly deflate. “...Well, that's new,” he heard the doctor say. “What?” Theo asked. “Is something weird?” He sat up to try and see what the doctor was seeing. In the basin below the bed, a swirl of transparent but clearly blue and sparkly liquid pooled. Köbi had taken a sample in a beaker and left the room with it. “...Did that come out of me?” Theo asked, flabbergasted. “Indeed it did.” Sydryn pressed a little on Theo's stomach to coax the rest of the liquid out. When it seemed to have stopped, he gave Theo a towel and helped clean him up. “What is it?” Theo asked. “I can’t be sure,” Sydryn said. “We're going to run tests... For now though, I believe it's best you rest here overnight.” “What? But I have work—” “Your employer will be informed,” Sydryn said. “This is now an APID case and your health needs to be watched. This is a unique case, so we'll have to gather as much data as we can to determine the origin of this condition.” “...So I don't have a choice?” Theo asked. “Theo, the concern here is that we don't know what this might have done to you internally,” Sydryn said. “We don't know what affect it has on the human body beyond the distention. I can let you go home, but I believe it’s safest for you to remain here. If anything develops, we'd want you to have a medical professional nearby. It's up to you.” Theo rubbed the back of his neck. “Is this all covered by OHIP?” “A little late to ask that, and the answer is technically no, but there is no charge for diagnosis,” Sydryn stated. “Should we determine that there is non-human interference in you're health, which I am almost certain there is, then further care will be covered by our program.” “So... To be plain...?” Theo asked. “To be plain...If aliens or other non-human people are involved in this, a.k.a. this is not a human condition, you won't pay anything.” “And if there isn't?” “You won’t pay anything here, but you'll have to seek your usual human healthcare. Although I would suggest you find a new GP. Your current one is less than useful.” Theo nodded. “Okay, I understand...” “Do you have any questions?” “Yeah, well... Not exactly a question...” Theo looked at the doctor. “You say a lot of ‘human’ this, ‘non-human' that... Are you...human?” “It is not particularly polite around here to ask people whether they are human or not,” Sydryn answered. “Oh, I'm sorry...” “It's fine, it's your first time at APID. Please, have you chosen to stay as I requested?” “Well, where would I be staying?” Theo asked. “And I'm not really prepared for an overnight stay... I don’t have pyjamas or toiletries...” “I'll have the receptionist show you a room and he'll provide you any essentials you might need for the night,” Sydryn explained. “Let him know if you do plan on staying so that I am aware of the decision.” “Okay...” Theo got off the bed. “Should I go back and change?” “Please.”

After touring the overnight rooms they had, Theo agreed to stay. The rooms were much like a hotel and reasonably homely so he tried to treat it like a vacation. There was a set of buttons in the room near the bed, one of which he was he could use to call in a doctor or nurse to check in on him. He figured be might as well catch Henderson up so he texted him to call him when his class was over, and his friend kept the promise. Henderson sounded really excited about that idea that some alien had done this to Theo and he was rather proud that he'd called it. Theo reminded him that nothing was confirmed yet, but he was pretty sure Henderson was right as that liquid that had come out of him definitely looked otherworldly.

The next morning, Theo woke up groggy and delirious. It took him a minute to recognise where he was, then he sat up to get out of bed. It wasn't so easy as, once again, his stomach had swollen to unnatural proportions. He started to panic. What in the world was going on? Why was it back? They had drained him! It should've all left his body! Remembering the buttons, he picked the one to call the doctor. It was relatively early in the morning so he wasn’t sure if the doctor would be in, but sure enough, the pink haired physician was there within minutes. “It’s back,” Theo said, getting up and lifting his shirt. “What’s going on, doctor?” “Theodore, no need to reveal yourself,” Sydryn said. “I chose to prioritise looking into your case so I examined the substance we obtained yesterday and it is beyond what I’ve frankly ever seen. As such, I had to consult another doctor on the matter and I’d like them to speak with you.” Theo nodded, though he was starting to sweat a little. So far it seemed like no one knew what was happening to him and he just felt so lost. “Okay, um… So you don’t know anything?” “I know a lot of things, but this case in particular is new to me,” Sydryn said. “That doesn’t mean that I’m not trying to learn everything I can on the matter. I’d like to see you get through this.” That made him feel a little better. “Okay, who’s this other doctor?” Sydryn got up and went outside and returned with two others, one a handsome wavy-haired man with green tips and the other was none other than a Yulinian. Theo had never met a Yulinian, or any other alien for that matter, in his life and part of him was both very excited and another part was terribly nervous. He had no idea how to act and couldn’t help staring. “Théodore, this is Fay Demers and Dr. Ix,” Sydryn said. “Dr. Ix is our resident medical delegate from Yulin. They have been educating me on the physiology of various extraterrestrial species for the sake of my practice and I believe their knowledge on extraterrestrial life forms to be of benefit to you at this time.” Theo rubbed his legs nervously. “Hi, um, I’m Theo.” “It’s nice to meet you,” Dr. Ix said, smiling warmly. “I’m sure you’re feeling very worried for your health and I can assure you that this is the best place on this planet for you to receive the best care.” “Yeah, uh… Thanks.” Theo tried to look away, thinking he was making too much eye contact. “I’m really sorry if I act weird… I’ve just never met a Yulinian in person before.” “That’s quite alright,” the doctor said. “I get it a lot and frankly you’re one of the politer ones. Now, about your condition… I have a few questions.” “Okay, shoot.” “Have you been experiencing any strange dreams lately?” Dr. Ix asked. “Anything perhaps space related?” “Actually, yeah,” Theo said. “I have space dreams a lot.” “Can you describe them to me?” Dr. Ix pulled out a tablet to write on. “Yeah, um… Usually it’s the same dream from when I was younger,” Theo said. “I’m at a cottage with my friends, but I always breakaway to go look at the stars from the dock.” “How long have you been having this dream?” “I really don’t know. For as long as I can remember since that event.” “Has the dream changed at all within the last couple days?” “Yes! Actually, the night before last, I was on the dock but this time it was like…the night sky lifted me up into space,” Theo said. “And then it turned into a person with like, space hair. Galaxy hair.” Dr. Ix nodded silently, writing down some notes. Sydryn looked to the other doctor. “Does that line up?” “It does,” Dr. Ix said. “What does?” Theo asked. “You can diagnose me based on my dream?” Dr. Ix wobbled their head. “These types of ‘dreams’ are consistent with people we’ve found to share your condition. However, I also got to analyse the sample Dr. Aias procured and the two confirmed what I suspected you’re going through.” “So you know what’s wrong with me?” Theo asked, lighting up. “Yes,” Dr. Ix said. “I will say that not many beings go through what you are experiencing right now so our data is limited, but there is enough information that I believe we can help you with.” “So what is it? What’s wrong with me?” Dr. Ix crossed their hands over their tablet. “This appears to be a celestial pregnancy.” “Celestial what?” Theo placed his hands on his stomach. “I thought we determined I wasn’t pregnant…” “It was inconclusive,” Sydryn said. “What does it mean?” Theo asked. “Celestial pregnancy?” “You’ve been visited and impregnated by a celestial,” Dr. Ix said. “A celestial is a broad term for a number of extraterrestrial beings that do not inhabit planets but the space between them. Their existence and abilities are not easily explained by science, much like earthly creatures such as mermaids or dragons.” “Wait, hold on…” Theo said. “You’re comparing these celestial things to mythological creatures.” “I can assure you, they are not myths,” Sydryn stated. “The whereabouts and identities of such people are kept secret for their protection but they very much do exist.” “I for one am a merman,” Fay stated for the sake of proof. “Fay,” Sydryn warned. “You don’t know him…” “Relax, Syd. He’s clearly scared and harmless,” Fay stated. “Théo, I should probably explain why I’m here.” “You’re a merman?” Theo asked. Fay smiled and nodded. “Correct. I’m a case worker here at APID and Sydryn suggested I pick up your case.” “Fay here is one of our top case workers,” Sydryn stated. “He can help you with handling this condition on a more administrative and support level.” “Wait, hold on!” Theo said. “This is all a lot of information! I just want to know what we're going to do about this!” He patted his stomach. Dr. Ix nodded. “I'll continue. As I said, celestials are extraterrestrial beings. They do not belong to any one planet. Because of this, they are lesser known and often treated as mythological creatures. What we do know about some of them however is that on occasion they may visit a person in their sleep, often soothing them in pleasant dreams and they proceed to impregnate them with their celestial hybrid children. Implantation is certain and the, in your case, uterus swells with fluid to nurture the embryo as it grows.” “So you're saying...” Theo held his stomach. “This fluid builds up first? Then the baby grows inside it?” “Correct. You won't likely grow any larger than you are now, perhaps a bit more near the end of the pregnancy,” the doctor said. “From draining it yesterday, you only invited it to fill up again.” “Where is it coming from though?” Theo asked. “How can it fill up so fast?” “The fluid itself is...incredible to say the least. Exactly how it develops is hard to determine,” Dr. Ix said. “A microscopic examination showed that in fact, it contains micro-galaxies within. This is what feeds the offspring in the womb.” “I have...galaxies inside of me?” Theo asked. “Are you kidding?” “I don't kid,” Dr. Ix said. “I wouldn't concern yourself for the health of these galaxies. Something at such a small size is too delicate to worry about the condition of.” “I promise you; I'm not concerned about the health of micro-galaxies in my uterus,” Theo said, rubbing his head. “What do we do?” Dr. Ix placed a hand on Theo's shoulder. “We're going to monitor your pregnancy closely and make it as easy as possible for you. You'll get through this.” Theo shook his head. “But I don't want to be pregnant. I have no desire to have this kid. There has to be a way to get rid of it.” Sydryn shook their head. “Unfortunately, Théodore, the pregnancy is certain just as much as the implantation is. The will of a celestial is not one we can defy. This is why some cultures worship them as gods. We can help through the pregnancy, but we're not capable of terminating it. And I don’t mean it in the sense that we won’t or that we legally can’t. If we could, we would do so for you. There are no known methods for doing so.” Theo looked at all their faces, these people just staring at him. He knew they were there to help, but he couldn't help feeling despair. He started to tear up and tried wiping his eyes. “So...So I'm just stuck like this?” Fay came over to his side and rubbed his shoulder. “I know this is hard for you. This kind of thing is so uncommon and unheard of that it would make anyone scared. But you're not going to be alone through this and we're going to work out what we're going to do from here on. If it helps at all, think of it as being chosen by a higher power.” “On some planets,” Dr. Ix interjected, “These children are seen as blessings and become important pillars of their societies, oracles and shaman and so on. Their parents are treated like kings.” “Wait, am I expected to raise this thing?” Theo asked. “No, that is up to you,” Sydryn said. “You can take custody or APID will take them on as a ward. We wouldn't want to force you into parenthood against your will.” “But I have to give birth to it?” Theo inhaled sharply. “I... Guys, I can't process all this right now...” “Of course. It’s a lot,” Fay said. “It's not easy waking up to three strangers telling you a space alien impregnated you.” “Why don't you come with me,” Sydryn said, “And we'll do another examination just to determine your overall health today as well as get some measurements.” Theo nodded. “Okay.” “After you guys do that, I can get you some breakfast,” Fay said, patting Theo's arm. “What are you, an egg man? Bacon? Pancakes?” “Is there food here?” Theo asked. “Yes, of course. We have a lot of residents living here,” Fay said. “We have a really large cafeteria. But honestly, the food is really good.” “I wouldn't mind bacon and eggs,” Theo answered. “Thanks.” “Don't mention it,” Fay said. “Syd, can you send him to my office when you're done?” “Sure thing.” Sydryn motioned for everyone to leave the room. Theo called to them as Dr. Ix began to leave. “Sorry, um, I have another question.” “Yes?” Ix turned around. “How long will this pregnancy last?” “The few recorded celestial pregnancies lasted the length of a host species’ typical pregnancy so, it’ll likely be nine months,” Dr. Ix determined. “A whole nine months looking full term?” Theo paled. “No way.” Dr. Ix started to leave again. “I’ll be consulting on this with Dr. Aias. Should you wish to speak to me directly, you can come by my office. Dr. Aias can give you the location. I must go now however.” “Okay, bye…” The alien left behind Fay, and Sydryn was about to step out as well. “By the way, when Köbi had you fill out some forms last night, you put your aunt down as your emergency contact, correct?” Sydryn asked. “Yeah, why?” “Well, it's just that the address is a province over. Do you not have anyone in the city?” Theo shook his head. “I left my friends and family in Quebec to move here for my work.” “No contacts here? A significant other perhaps?” Sydryn asked. “What about that Henderson man?” “No, he's just a friend. We're co-workers, I couldn't make him my emergency contact.” “Very well, but I would suggest keeping your friends close,” Sydryn said. “Even a typical human pregnancy isn't easy to handle alone.” They paused then raised a finger. “Actually, there's a pregnancy group here at APID that could benefit you.” “Really?” Theo rubbed his neck. “For alien pregnancies?” “No, for pregnancies in general,” Sydryn said. “And if you’re worried about possibly being the only man they, it's actually majority men.” “You're kidding.” Theo lit up a bit. “Other pregnant men?” “Like Ix, I'm not a kidder. It is primarily for others who have experienced pregnancy and can share their knowledge and experiences. But I'm sure they can help you feel comfortable.” Theo nodded. “I think… Once I get my bearings in all this… I might actually think about going to that. Thanks.” “Let me know if and when you’d like to go,” Sydryn said. “They meet on Fridays. I sit in on occasion, but I can also understand if you’d rather I didn’t. Not everyone wants their doctor listening in on their personal life.” “Yeah, we’ll see…” Theo rubbed his neck. “Oh, um... I'm technically pregnant, right?” “You are pregnant, yes.” “Do I have to stop my injections?” The doctor shook their head. “Technically no, testosterone injections would not affect a celestial pregnancy, however it might cease to be effective in your transition considering the pregnancy will be preparing you for birth by raising your estrogen levels.” Theo swallowed hard. “Will it reverse my transition then?” “No, no... Fret not,” Sydryn said. “While you might find some changes seem reversed, a lot of FTM transition features are permanent. You're not likely to lose hair growth and your voice will remain the same. Your hips might get wider though...” Theo frowned. “So T. Not worth it.” “Not right now.” “I really should've scheduled a hysterectomy...” “We'll get through this. Don't worry.” Sydryn proceeded to do a physical examination, taking all of Theo’s measurements and checking his vitals. He was in good health despite the pregnancy, though it was clear the new weight was causing issues. Oddly, he didn’t have a single stretchmark from his rapid growth, and Syd suspected it was due to celestial influence. He was overall the same as he was before but with a bigger abdomen. After the exam, Sydryn suggested that Theo stay at APID one more night just to see if any changes occurred. If his growth had stabilised, then he could go home and they'd proceed from there. Theo agreed to it. He had breakfast with Fay after, and the other was keen on getting to know his new client. They talked for a while and Theo found out he was married with eight children. He and his husband both went to the pregnancy group that Sydryn had talked about and it made Theo feel a bit better about it, knowing he'd already know someone there. Theo talked about his job as a translator and they had that in common too; Fay apparently also translated for APID. As a siren however, it took him often no more than a few minutes with someone to learn their language without ever having heard it before. He could understand anyone, though he couldn't always speak the language of another species due to physiology. Theo only knew his native French and English. He was starting to think taking one of Henderson's classes wouldn't be a bad idea...

“Ta-da!” “What…is that?” Henderson was holding up a big bright green T-shirt with APID printed gaudily across the chest. He’d come back to APID after work to take Theo home. “I imagine your clothes don’t fit now so I got this for you on my way back from class.” “…Gee. Thanks.” Theo had already changed into his own clothes hours ago, but it was true, his own shirt did not fully cover his new burgeoning belly. He attempted to tuck his shirt into his pants but the slightest movement untucked it and it seemed like the APID shirt was going to have to be the one for the way home. “…You’d think the branding of a secret government organisation would be more subtle…” “It’s really not a secret anymore, you know that,” Henderson said. “And after the name change, they made up all this merch I guess to really sell the new name. I was lucky enough to get my hands on one of the limited edition throw blankets. Wanna come back to mine and see it?” “No, thanks… I really just want to go home,” Theodore said. “…I’ve had a shit day.” “Ah, I guess I’ll just have to bring it over then.” “Henderson!” Theo snapped. “I really don’t care about your blanket!” Henderson blinked and threw up his hands. “Sorry, I… Sorry. Bad day. Blankets don’t matter. You matter.” “Mon dieu…” Theo rubbed his face, his tears welling up again. “No, I’m sorry… I know you’re just trying to help…” Henderson panicked a moment. “Oh, shit... Um, it's gonna be okay...” He gave him a hug as best he could with Theo's belly digging into his gut. “Let's get you home.” Theo pulled away from Henderson after a few moments in the hug. “...I'll take the shirt.” Henderson nodded and handed it over. Theo proceeded to undress to his waist, his mood visibly falling once his stomach was exposed. Henderson restrained himself from reaching out and touching the belly again, knowing it would likely just upset Theo. Instead, he hooked his hands under his own armpits and tried not to watch. “So, um... Nine months of this, yeah?” “Yeah...” Theo sighed. “I don't know what I'm gonna do every day looking like this... Like, what will my boss think?” “Mm... You should ask these doctors here for a sick note of some kind, something to explain the swell and letting you off the hook in case you need some days off.” He pulled a hand out and snapped his fingers. “I got it. You've got a tumour.” “A tumour?” Theo grimaced. “What like, cancer? I don't want to lie about having cancer...” “No, no, it could be benign,” Henderson suggested. “But still not good for you because of the size. And-and it's complex and the only surgeon good enough to operate is away for the next nine months. How about that?” Theo stared at Henderson. “You're crazy.” Henderson shook his head. “Naw, you just don't want to admit that I'm a genius.” Theo sighed. “Just take me home...” “Yeah, yeah... Also, you're welcome.” “Huh?” “For the shirt.” “Oh. Yeah, I said ‘thanks' already.” “Sure, but I hadn't said ‘you're welcome' so I said it now. It's only polite.” “Whatever.”

#lore #Theo #Sydryn #Köbi #Henderson #Ix #alien #yulinian #Transman #trans preg

[youralternantpersonality]

End My Dear Friend

Warning: n/a

A/n: Here’s the end of it. I had fun writing this. It was in my brain for the longest, but I just didn’t want to make more than 5 chapters for my stories. Anyway, let me know what you think!

Sam (19), Paul (16), and Quil (15) gave up their ability to shift when they would have respectively been around 25-27 since Emily, Rachel, and Clair would age. They have kids���Emily: 3, Rachel: 2, and Clair: pregnant (Not really mentioned, but just clarification/to give an idea).

Comment if you’d like to be tagged

Tag:  @pillowjj​ @summeerrr​

***

A year later

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.” I turn around and smile.

“Vanity!” I run up to her and hug her. I was worried that she wouldn’t come. Having her here makes everything complete. We hear a knock on the door, and it’s Felix just to congratulate me. I give my thanks, and Vanity helps me finish up the final touches and helps me put my dress on.

It’s an Augusta Jones dress named Terri. It was something I saw and wanted ever since I was in 10th grade. The second I saw it, my heart skipped a beat, and I wanted to cry (I didn’t, I just wanted to). Vanity fluffed out the bottom of my dress and made sure it flattered me for the pictures they were about to take.

“You look so beautiful Y/n/n. If I was human, I would cry, love.” She tells me, wiping an invisible tear from her eyes. I laugh, and Alice comes in to make sure I am ready. If it wasn’t obvious, Alice volunteered/decided to be the wedding coordinator for our wedding. She rushes us to go downstairs. Because of my situation, I decided against having bridesmaids/brides-man. Instead, Jared volunteered to walk me down the aisle as a surprise.

I walk up to him and link my arm with his. My nerves start getting to me as the music changes to a soft violin musical playing.

“You ready, Blue?” I smile up at my brother of over 10 years and nod.

“More than you know, Magenta.” He squeezed my arm and proceeded to walk me down. Up ahead, I see Embry, standing there in all his glory. I made him wear a white suit to match my dress. I remember Alice threatened him if he got a single drop of even sweat on it, she will have him by the throat and shake him like a chicken.

Walking up to the man I love, I could see a tear lightly stream down his face as he tried to keep his composure. I told him before, if he doesn’t cry, I’m going to re-walk down this damn isle. He knew I was serious too. Emmett, who became our ordained minister due to a loss bet he and Embry had, patted his shoulder in support. I was scared at first, but the nerves vanished as soon as Emmett opened his mouth.

“You may be seated.” He started, “Hello. And welcome, to this beautiful wedding. A Call wedding—bringing two different beings to one. Two different species, if you will, to one. Before we dive into these shenanigans, I would like to remind everyone what happens when two worlds collide,” I can see Charlie putting his head in his hand and shaking it. Emmett proceeded for 5 minutes, making sexual innuendos but also giving blessings. Two things that should not be in the same sentence.

The reception was beautiful. The pack demolished every last bit of food there was. Emmett brought out poker cards and had Charlie, him, Jared, Embry, Paul, and Billy playing poker at my wedding. If I didn’t think that Embry and I could have more weddings in our lifetime together, and if he didn’t look like the most handsome when he was laughing, I would be pissed right now.

But Alice was.

Twenty years later

It had been twenty years since I had seen the Cullen’s. For every birthday Renesmee had, Embry, Charlie, and I would take a trip to visit them. Ren desperately wanted to have him in her life, and so, Bella and Edward introduced them to each other, so long as there was a gag order on Charlie. Not to ask any questions and just enjoy the moment.

I will say that it was a stressful time when Ren was born. Bella did survive, and as soon as she was clear, hell broke loose. The Volturi tried to kill us, but luckily Alice and Jasper had their own trick up their sleeves. If I’m honest, it was hard seeing Vanity on the other side. But when it was decided that the Cullen’s broke no law, they left. Before leaving, like the spontaneous and child-like we are, we ran to each other and hugged before leaving. I knew we’d see each other again, but it just might be a while before we do.

A few days ago, Carlisle informed me that they will be heading back for a visit. Ren wanted to have her official seventeenth birthday where she was born. Something about wanting to feel the nostalgia of it all. Here we are, Jake, Embry, Emmett, Jared, and Paul moving furniture around. Emily, Leah, Clair, Kim, Rachel, and I are fixing a buffet in the kitchen. Sam, Seth, and Orion (Leah’s imprint—who’s also a shifter) went out to get some supplies for her party. Alice and Esme are drawing up plans to renovate the house afterward. Rosalie and Jasper decided they wanted to be friendly and cordial…so she worked on her car in the garage away from everyone, and Jasper went hunting. At least they’re trying.

“OK! Bella said they should be arriving soon! And they’re bringing Ren’s friend Nadya…who’s fully human and doesn’t know shit about our world. So, let's try to be normal…Emmett.” Alice says, looking at the big guy in the middle of the room with a cheeky smile.

“What!? I am completely professional.” We all looked at him and rolled our eyes. Rosalie came back from the garage and stood next to Emmett.

“Well, look who graced us with her presence,” Paul says, sarcastically. Rachel waddles out of the kitchen and scolds him. “What!?” There was crying coming from upstairs, and Emily runs up to her desperate child. Sam, Seth, and Orion pull up with the supplies that Alice specifically wanted and allowed the pixie to do as she pleased while everyone just watched. By the time she was done, Bella, Ren, Edward, and Nadya—with Sue, Billy, and Charlie behind them—pulled up. We all hid and waited until they enter the living room.

“SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY REN!!!” to say to her, and Nadya was shocked was an understatement. They screamed and held onto each other as if they were in a horror film…I mean, aren’t they, though? As Ren introduced and hugged/welcomed everyone here, two shapeshifters caught Nadya and Ren’s eyes.

“Oh, hell no,” Edward says, looking straight at Jake. Leah and Embry's bust out laughing at what just happened to not only Jake but also Seth.

“Edward, you know we can't control it,” Jake says. Jared in the background making bets with Quil and Embry on who’s going to win.

“I say Edward.” – Jared

“No shit, he’s a dad. Of course, he is.” – Quil

“My bets on Jake. He’ll attempt to reason with him.” – Embry

“Naw, Jake tried to take Bella. This might be anger he never knew he had.” Emmett joined in, betting $20. They had a pool of $60 at this point. Then I hear,

“Join…no fight…”

“I'm going to say no fight because Ren has power over both of them.” I join in, placing a $20 while smiling. Embry and Jared look at me, and before they can say anything, “NO TAKE BACKS!” Needless to say, I won the money, and the party continued. Edward chaperoned Jake and Ren the whole night. One wrong thought from Jake and his life was done. Treaty or no treaty. Seth, on the other hand, was flirting and having a ball with Nadya. I wonder how that’s going to end up.

After the party ended and everything was cleaned up, Nadya and Ren went to bed while Alice and Esme took over in renovating parts of the house that Nadya hasn’t seen, so she isn’t suspicious. Embry and I headed back to our house just on the outskirts of Forks and La Push. I didn’t get any special treatment just because I was Embry’s mate. But if I’m honest, I’m glad I wasn’t on the Reservation. At the time, my family was still there. The only time I was allowed was to visit my grandparent's grave.

Nana died of another heart attack, and Papa died soon afterward from the loss of Nana. That year I had gone missing. Aunt Lydia and dad had a falling out. Mom and dad split after two years, multiple counseling sessions, and marriage and therapy appointments. Nothing seemed to work between the two of them. I felt terrible. It felt as if that was my fault. Embry and Jared made sure that it wasn’t. It was hard to believe them, but eventually, I knew I had to move forward one way or another.

I tried to send anonymous letters to them; it helped some, but not enough. Although, a few years ago, dad and aunt Lydia finally rekindled their relationship, and Aunt Lydia reached out to mom. It was painful for all three of them, but they finally came to a neutral ground and grieved like they should’ve all those years ago. Aunt Lydia stayed in the area and got married to her second husband. Mom moved back to Texas and eventually started dating but not for a long while. And Dad moved to Seattle, where he met an old high school sweetheart of his.

I now lay in bed with my husband on Isle Esme, a gift from Carlisle and Esme for our 20th wedding anniversary. Do you know how hard it is to not explain to the natives on the island that all the food I got wasn’t for me, but for my husband? Do you also know how irritating, yet flattering, it was to see women attempt to flirt with Embry? He was awkward and continuously looked for my help. Other times, he would pass by them and blankly ignore them.

“You know, babe. Emmett gave us this gift that I think we should try out. Then go into town for a while.” I perk up at that and look at my husband.

“Oh yeah? What is it?” I said with excitement.

“A butterfly…” he shows and explains to me what it does. We test run it, and boy, does it make you want to grab the edge of a table and break it. Ironically, that’s precisely what I did. The bastard had it on high too, and I nearly lost my shit. Needless to say, we didn’t go into town until the next morning, and he still made me keep it on.

Later that night, while Embry was asleep, I glanced at him and just felt a rush of happiness submerge deep from within. This, this right here is the life I’ve been searching for. This is the life that I will be forever grateful for.

Part 1: Hello My Dear Friend

Part 2: Goodbye My Dear Friend

Part 3: Welcome My Dear Friend

Part 4: Why My Dear Friend

Part 5: End My Dear Friend

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#twilight #twilightsaga #twilightwolfpack #breakingdawnparttwo #new moon #newmoon #eclipse #breaking dawn #breakingdawn #BreakingDawnPart1 #breakingdawnpartone #BreakingDawnPart2 #embry call #embrycall #embry call x reader #embry-call-x-reader #embry call twilight #jared cameron #jaredcameron #Bella Swan #bella cullen #bellaswan #bellacullen #edward cullen #edwardcullen #theend #the end

[shiberpostshere]

THE GENTLE DRIZZLE OF THE NIGHT

Pairing → Kim Junmyeon (Suho) x Female Reader

Genre → Fluff

Word Count → 4K

Synopsis→ The beginning of the weekend, its drizzling all over the city and you take the chance of filling in for someone else’s blind date which soon turns out to be the best first date you’ve went on.

My Masterlists

The idea of blind dates often feels ambiguous for you to voluntarily participate in but you’re presented with a tricky situation where you are unable to decline. 

“I don’t do blind dates, Dia, you know that.” You answer with much difficulty as you rush towards the subway, the phone sandwiched between your shoulder and your ear. 

Your room-mate is determined on the other line, “I swear my colleague said she would go but I can’t just cancel on the guy last minute!” 

Climbing down the stairs you finally get a proper hold on the phone, “Why should I fill in at the last minute? I don’t want to.” Your persistence remains consistent. 

“(Y/N) please, just this once. He’s a great guy, you won’t regret it. I will feel really bad if I don’t keep my side of promise.” Her pleading voice wavers your decision.

The number of blind dates you went to as a college student still make you shudder. The time you were stood up, the time you had to cover the entire bill, the time your date won’t look up from their phone, all the worst possible scenarios. You definitely don’t need a strange man to ruin the beginning of a much needed weekend but you trust Dia just a little bit more than those who had set you up previously.

Huffing a sigh, you turn around to leave the station, “Fine!”

The answer earns you a shrilling cheer. “I swear, I owe you and I won’t forget about it, I won't.” 

Finding an empty spot near the bus station, you resume the conversation. “I am dressed in my casual clothes, I won’t stay if I don’t like him and he better not be a creep in his 40s.” You state the conditions. 

She lets out a sound of relief, “Don’t worry. I will send you his name, he made a reservation at a restaurant, it’s a casual setting and I LOVE YOU!” An unexpected kissing sound is delivered which you chuckle at.

“Okay, okay, I love you too, quickly text me the details, see you after!” The call ends and your phone pings with a message in a minute full of details regarding the stranger you’re about to go on a ‘date’ with. 

What the hell, what could go wrong? A blind date for Friday night it is. 

You glance down at your outfit, a loose tee and boyfriend jeans, you shrug, this will have to do. 

The restaurant Dia texted you details of is only a street away. Luckily, your last appointment happened to be in a popular area and so does this restaurant. 

It’s Friday night with gentle on and off drizzle that has set a pleasing, warm and dispersed filter over the entire city, adorning it with a muted, twinkling, coral hue. As you walk towards the restaurant, you detect the pungent remnants of the rain in the air. 

The night life is bustling with greasy street food and hurrying back home to relax after a long week of work and you’re making your way towards what might be a famous food place in the most basic attire ever. 

Checking the address again, you take a right turn. The place is called, 'Daydream' and not hard to spot as the neon sign blinks atop the building in it's silver glory.

A little hesitant, you take a peek inside. The ambience is inviting and intimate. The setting is definitely meant for couples and fancy meetings. Drawing in and out a few deep breaths, you attempt to fix your hair in the translucent glass and step inside. 

The humid heat of the outside world is left behind and you are greeted with a refreshing atmosphere blended with floral fragrance and rich aroma of delicacies. 

Dia, this is no way a place you come dressed in T-shirt and jeans. 

You approach the reception desk tentatively. 

“Good evening ma’am, Welcome to Daydream. How may I help you?” The male flashes you a polite smile. 

You mirror his expression, “Good evening, I am here to meet Mr. Kim, he made a reservation.” 

The receptionist nods, “One second ma’am, let me check.” He shifts his eyes to the computer screen whereas you begin to feel out of place a little more as the minutes on the clock tick by. 

“Yes, Mr. Kim has a reservation. If you would please follow me.” He gestures with his hand towards the main area. 

He leads you to a table that offers the view of the street on the other side, people walking by and the vehicles zooming by onto their business. You thank him as he pulls out a chair and leaves.

A minute since you’ve settled down and a woman approaches you. “Good evening ma’am, I am Aliah, I will be your server tonight. Would you like to order something or wait for the expected company to arrive?” 

“I would like to wait, thank you.” You answer, clutching your messenger bag for some familiarity in the setting that feels like it is lulling you into a trance, you experience only after sipping a well-aged, red wine.

 The restaurant is comfortably...elegant, brightness toned down to create a somber environment that keeps one’s attention on their company. 

The other tables except for a few empty ones are occupied by couples embraced in their own bubble of chatter. Unknowingly, your hand keeps reaching out to your hair to fix god-knows-what. While you wait, you decide to text Dia for conning you into believing that you are dressed for the occasion. 

It is hard to believe that just half an hour ago you were running around in a wedding hall, delivering instructions as your assistant jotted them down. 

“Hello, I am sorry I am a little late, I was--” A frantic voice interrupts your silence. 

The owner of the voice takes the seat in front of you and his expression continues to dissolve more and more into a puzzled one. 

Is there something on my face? God, I should’ve checked once in the bathroom if I knew a walking god would be sitting opposite to me. 

The male appears to be in his late twenties, dressed in a crisp, white shirt with accents of blue flowers on the front pocket, his gentle face studies you in a way as if he is attempting to solve a riddle. He is breathtaking. 

I am extremely under-dressed compared to him, fantastic!

“Oh no, please don’t worry about it, Dia mentioned in the message that you work a little farther from here. It is nice to meet you, I am (Y/N) (Y/L/N)” You stand up and offer him your hand, instantly regretting that your work ethics decided to reveal themselves now.  

He furrows his brows before standing up himself and taking your hand. “Oh, well, I am Kim Junmyeon, better known as Suho, whichever is fine, I guess.” Both of you move your hands in a mismatched manner and settle back in your seats. 

You are unable to shake your blind date jitters. 

“Is everything alright?” He inquires with concern. 

It’s best he knows before we begin, “Okay so, I know I am under-dressed for the date because I came here straight from work but I have to be honest with you.” You begin speaking and he leans back with his arms and legs crossed. “I haven’t been on a blind date for a long time and I wasn’t supposed to meet you today. The person you were supposed to meet cancelled last minute and Dia wanted to keep her promise and sent me instead.” With a soft exhale, you confess. 

The uncertainty fades off his features and he leans to the front, his right hand supporting his chin. “Oh well, that explains it. Thank you for being honest. It is quite unexpected but why don’t we make the best out of it?” His statement makes you smile to yourself with the way he delivers it, a look of assurance. 

“So, you’re alright with it?” 

Curiosity is evident on his features. “Yes, I don’t see why not. What about you?” 

You shrug. “Sure, why not, other than the fact that I am under-dressed.” 

His smile widens at your response, gaze ever so observant indicating that he is still calculating the situation. 

He lifts up his hand to call out the server. “Shall we begin the evening then?” 

The atmosphere of the restaurant and the comfort of the male you’ve just met settles you into a state of familiarity, without worrying about your hair or your outfit. Both of you study the menu together.

“What are your thoughts on seafood pasta?” 

A man after my heart. “I’d love seafood pasta. Wine?” 

“Red or white?” He looks up. 

“Let’s go with white for a change.” You close the menu. 

He nods, places the order and the server leaves. 

“That was a quick and harmonious decision, don’t you think?” Your fingers dance on your lap with excitement about the upcoming hearty dinner. 

His finger taps the menu. “I look forward to a good meal every day.” 

You grin. “That makes it two of us.” 

“Just a minute.” He sends a quick text and the conversation resumes. 

It begins on the note of stating your respective career and you’re least surprised to hear his. If he had made you guess, you’d answered correctly in a single attempt. 

“You manage a firm? It explains the choice of place.” You eye the surroundings. 

He shakes his head with an amused expression, “Managing the firm is a family business, I am a person who enjoys art as well. If you had the choice, what would you have selected?” 

You consider for a moment before replying. “I enjoy new flavours so I would like to eat at a hole in the wall restaurant that serves spicy food.” 

He hums. “Well, that’s a deal breaker, I cannot handle spicy food but I would love to come with for a second date.” 

His comment causes your lips to perk up naturally but you decide to hold it back. “Who said there would be a second date? I don’t think I can date someone who manages a firm or someone who mentions second date ten minutes into the first one. I am into someone who is open to new things.” 

He clasps his hands together and places them on the table. “Aren’t you being stereotypical? Also, my bold statement must prove something.” 

“Okay, kinda but tell me three out of the box things you have done.” You ask, putting on your best challenging expression. 

He chuckles. “I can name more than three, I went paragliding, I paint as a hobby and I think I am quite good at it, I have a winery in Italy, I also visit Hawaii to enjoy the sun and the beach and I--” He doesn’t even take a moment to ponder while listing such enviable activities and hobbies. 

“Okay, okay, now you’re just making me jealous. I haven’t indulged as much as you have and I apologize for being stereotypical.” He wears a victorious expression at your defeat. 

The food is finally served, wafting mouth-watering aroma, you two continue your conversation while digging in. 

“And you decided to be a wedding planner because you like planning events?” 

You nod, “I like the idea of planning things and then executing them. It is absolutely satisfying to see what was dreamt come to life.” 

He slightly softens at your answer. “Which wedding has been your favourite so far?” 

It comes to you instantly, “Oh, definitely the one I planned for an old couple in a manor. It wasn’t the venue or the decorations that made it special but the love they shared towards each other. I thought I had gotten over the ‘crying-at-every-wedding-phase’ but that day, I couldn’t hold myself back.” 

The food melts on your tongue, the wine adding a little kick. You are trying your best to keep your composure under his gaze that is highly alert. 

“That does sound beautiful. Everything you’ve said is quite contradictory to what I have experienced so far.” He sets down his spoons aside, leaning back into a relaxed state. 

“Likewise. It’s a first for me, going on a blind date with a lawyer. You belong to a different world but you feel familiar.” Placing down the fork, you finish as well but continue to sip your drink. 

He holds out his drink. “The familiarity perhaps comes from the way of accepting different things, which I see you are open to do. Like going on a blind date last minute.” 

You look at him with your mouth open, refusing to clink your glasses. “Okay, weird way of complimenting but take that back! I came so that you won’t feel like you’ve been stood up. I’ve had it happen and believe me, it’s not the best feeling.” 

A vague glimmer of wonder flashes across his face. 

“Alright, alright, yes, my fault but I am glad that it is you instead of the person who was supposed to show up.” His honest expression delivers the sincerity of his words. 

You fix your hair in a ponytail. “But what if that person is supposedly a better company than I am?” 

He reaches out and takes your hand, interrupting the course of tying your hair. “I don’t wish to think of what would have happened while I am enjoying the great company I have with me right now.” 

A little taken aback, you clear your throat and chuck the hair tie into your bag. “The feeling is mutual and I have to admit that you are beautiful, oh wait--” You say the last part out loud without realizing. 

He slightly tilts his head, eyes filled with piqued interest. “Am I beautiful?” 

The mesmerising tune of the violin offers you a little courage. “You are.” 

“But I definitely cannot surpass the level of looking so good in a T-shirt amongst women wearing dresses.” 

A sudden rush of heat takes all over you as you shift your eyes beyond the window to observe the nightlife. The gentle drizzling has begun again, illuminating the glow of the city. 

“What happened? Did I leave you speechless?” He pries further after his compliment. 

You cannot believe this smooth-talking man. “If you know you have then why do you ask? Do you want me to look as red as that traffic light there?” You point outside at the street. 

His palms cover his face as he laughs. “Do you want to eat dessert somewhere else? I know a great place that serves ice cream you cannot say no to.” 

Your eyes light up at the mention of ice cream. “How can one say no to ice cream?” 

“Amazing.” With that, he calls over the waiter again and you two split the bill. 

Thanking the server, you two step out of the dim-dizzying environment into the wet, busy streets of the city. 

“This way.” He begins walking and you step by his side as the mild drops are falling down from the midnight blue skies. “I am not carrying an umbrella with me.” 

“Neither am I.”  

“I guess a little rain won’t hurt.” He places both his hands into the pockets of his pants as he walks. 

The gentle droplets begin to cover your clothes and his, often landing on your eyes and clouding your vision for a brief moment. 

“The little rain is hurting in a way.” You say, making your way through the drift of people. 

He slowly pulls out his right hand, offering it to you. “Then we’ll have to hurry.” 

Without a second thought, you take his hand and he intertwines them together securely to make way carefully through the crowd. 

The night has shifted towards a more darker phase than before it began, the sky clear amidst the gentle drizzle. It’s hypnotising.

You feel grateful towards the woman who cancelled this date, otherwise you cannot imagine getting the opportunity to spend time with a man as pleasant and attractive as the one currently holding your hand. 

A mere five minutes of walking and you two halt in front of an ice cream store in an area less crowded than the one you were in before, you turn to him when you see it's a hole in a wall ice cream shop. 

“I see what you’re trying to do here.” He pulls you into the shop. 

Without looking back, he responds. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

This man is full of surprises. 

The chill in the shop causes both of you to shiver a little due your clothes brushed by the rain, you notice that they’re sticking to your body and even more to his that constantly catches your attention due to the sharp and tempting  definition. 

“Cone or cup?” His hand releases yours to pull out his wallet. 

“Cone and you’re paying?” 

“You can pay when we devour that spicy food.” 

You peek from his shoulders, “When did we decide that?” 

“We haven’t? Okay, we’ll talk about it over dessert. Which flavour do you want?” Ever since you’ve entered the shop, he still hasn’t met your eyes and yet continues to deliver statements that have you feeling flushed every minute. 

Scanning the options, you say, “One scoop of vanilla and one of chocolate.” 

“Two of the same please.” He pays the person behind the counter and hands you one cone. 

Before you can ask about where you will be eating, he takes your hand and walks out of the shop. “There is a park right in the front, a great place to own a shop, don’t you think?” 

“And we’ll be sitting on the drenched grass?” You happily skip behind him, careful about your ice cream. 

He turns around, his eyes turning into crescents. “Do you mind?” 

You shake your head, bewitched by his dampened hair sticking to his forehead, changing his appearance from the impersonal one at the restaurant to a more personal one under the streetlights. 

The park is abandoned due to the drizzle, the benches and the grass covered with an undisturbed sheet of droplets. 

You drop down and your jeans get soaked instantly. “I don’t think I should get up now, I will give people wrong ideas.” 

“Not many people on the street and I will keep your secret.” He winks, causing you to stick your tongue out in a disgusted manner. “Hold this, will you?” He hands you his ice cream and pushes his hair back from his face in a sleek motion. 

At the holy sight happening in front of you, you try not to crush the cones occupying both hands. His fingers undo the buttons on his wrist, rolling back his sleeves to his elbows and you can clearly see that the rain has casted a special spell of favouritism on him. 

“Don’t look at me like that, this is still our first date.” He plops down in front of you, taking back his ice cream that he eats in a not-so-subtle, sensual manner. 

This man is illegal.

You raise a brow, “And what does that mean?” You decide to implement his technique on him. 

He drives his face further causing you to reflexively move back. “I think it implies exactly what you’re thinking right now.” 

Defensively, you too, move forward and judging by his face, he didn't expect you to do so. “I’m thinking about stealing your ice cream right now.” 

His laughter livens up the numb environment. “Oh I know, don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing my ice cream.” 

“Oh my god, okay!” You roll your eyes and focus on your ice cream. 

His laughing doesn’t stop there, his delight keeps doubling the more you scrunch up your nose. “Alright, alright, it’s my fault, I’ll make it up to you.” 

“No, thank you.” Your teeth clatter as you savour the dessert. 

He pats the space right next to him. “Come here.” 

You slide closer within a heartbeat. “Yes?” 

“I have something to confess as well.” The sudden severity on his features shifts the mood. 

You nibble on the ice cream. “Go ahead, as long as you aren’t 42, it's fine.” 

He eyes you, dumbfounded. “Woman, do I look 42 to you?” 

You nudge him, “C’mon, just kidding, go on.” 

He draws in a deep breath and looks straight into your eyes with utmost sincerity. “I am not the supposed blind date you were to be meeting. I was there to meet a client who cancelled after I arrived, when I saw you, I thought the client came after all but when you confessed to what really it was, I decided to play along.” 

You blink once, then you blink twice and thrice to process what he’s just said. “Kim Junmyeon! What if I really stood someone up! My room-mate will kill me!” 

“Hey! I was the only person there who had a reservation under the name ‘Kim’, all the other tables were occupied after and yes, I am guilty, I am sorry but I cannot let go of an interesting person, an interesting woman at that.” He admits looking sinful, sinfully stunning even if he’s apologizing. 

You feel charmed yet mildly infuriated by his confession. 

“I’ve known you for an hour and half and I cannot believe I am already giving into your smooth talking so easily, let me see if my roommate has sent me death threats yet.” You pull out your phone to check if it is bombarded with messages and slump when you see numerous missed calls and texts from your roommate. 

However, as you read, they tell a different story. 

From: Dia

8:18: Why aren’t you answering my calls? (Y/N), I am sorry but he cancelled last minute due to an emergency, you can come home. 

8:21: Is everything okay? Please answer your calls, I don’t want you waiting for someone at the restaurant, it’s actually not so casual as I had mentioned. 

8:26: (Y/N) I am waiting for your reply, god, you and your habit of keeping your phone on silent. Don’t make me feel this awful!

8:30: I give up, TEXT ME ASAP YOU SEE THIS!!!!!!!!!!

You frantically type a response that you are doing well and receive a message of relief instantly. 

“So, how angry is he?” He is already aware that he is right yet he wants you to admit but you won’t be. 

“Why did you play along? I am not exactly the most charming person solely based on my appearance. Was it pity?” You nibble on the cone with your shoulders drooped.

He leans a little into your space. “No, it was your honesty. You can say that the liking for honesty comes with the profession.” His statement seems believable. 

“Honesty, hm?” You pull your knees closer to your chest.

He too finishes his dessert and diverts his attention solely on you. “I am being serious when I say that this has been a wonderful first date. You are beautiful (Y/N).” His fingers gently tucks a strand behind your ear, “Let me make it up to you.” 

His gaze makes you shiver more than the cold winds around you. 

He fingers travel to your cheek, pulling you closer. “May I?” 

You need a taste. You grab his neck and pull him closer. He understands your confirmation and his warm lips meet yours as his other hand pulls you right into his chest in a firm hold. 

His cold lips and yours alike move with an urgency to ignite a warmth in between, you can feel the thumping of his heart against your chest as he can feel yours. Even though he holds you close, his arm around your waist keeps pulling you in even further. His thumb gently caresses your cheek and you let your fingers weave through his damp locks. 

He pulls apart for a moment, your foreheads resting on each other, his eyes meet yours and he draws you in for another brief kiss that leaves you entirely breathless. He feels like a hearth, you cannot get enough. The sweet taste of vanilla and chocolate is being exchanged but it's not cold, it’s full of butterflies that are dancing in your stomach as you gasp the moment he oh-so-gently pecks on your lower lip with some mysterious magic. 

The kiss halts but you two do not separate. His chest heaves up and down and so does yours, his eyes are closed and so are yours, he holds you close and so do you. For a moment, you enjoy the silence to calm your senses that wish for you to unleash the hidden desires. 

You slowly open your eyes and greet his that are already open, a recognisable faint gleam floating within. 

“Did I make up for stealing your date and time?” He wraps his other free hand around you as well. 

You lock your arms around his neck. “Can we do this again after we eat spicy food?” 

He bites his lower lip. “Do you think it’s a good idea after eating spicy food?” He unlocks his arms to hold your cheeks. 

“I was talking about eating ice cream, what are you thinking about?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. 

His expression transforms into something beyond belief, making you snicker. “Yes, of course. I, too, was thinking about eating ice cream. Sure I was.” 

You begin laughing in his embrace, throwing your head back, the surroundings light up as he joins you, his forehead meeting yours as you two laugh your heart out. 

A/N: Hello! Yesterday, it was raining and I was listening to Self-Portrait, that album always leaves me speechless. I really wanted to let out those emotions so I wrote what came in my mind. It has been a long time since I’ve written and it felt liberating in a way. What do you think after reading it? Do let me know! What’s your favourite song from the mini album? 

#exo #exo imagines #exo fluff #exo scenarios #kpop #kim junmyeon #suho imagines #suho scenarios #kim junmyeon fluff #kim junmyeon scenarios #suho fluff #yixing #baekhyun #chanyeol #jongdae #kyungsoo #sehun #minseok #jongin #thegentledrizzleofthenight

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 4/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (much later in the story)

Content Warnings: Maybe some strong language. 

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

A/N: Without going into too much detail, I’m moving to a twice-a-week posting schedule. Mental health and mental illness are truly fickle things. This is the only way I can control mine right now. If I’d had my way, I would’ve posted the rest of the story in one go and taken a few months away from all social media. This was the proposed solution. Thank you for all the support and love over the last five years. It’s been my favorite adventure, so far. 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | 

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 4: Middle of the Road

October 25: Friday 

Friday is another night out at the Rabbit Hole, and for once Killian is there before her instead of the other way around. He’s in the middle of some animated story about lobsters, much to the amusement of those in attendance judging by their rapt expressions. There are two seats open at the table. One is the safe option, across from Killian and next to David. Or the other option is to sit at the head of this cacophony of tables and next to Killian directly. 

His gaze flicks over to her, as if he senses her thoughts, and as the story wraps up to the raucous laughter of their whole group, he puts on a satisfied little smile and lifts his hand in greeting. 

It looks as though he’s gotten the approval of both Snow and David, so that’s a mark in the right column. 

When her drink is set down in front of her, she wanders over, making a split second decision to sit at the head of the table. 

“Seems like I missed the best part of the evening,” she says as she settles in beside him.

“Long story short, the lobsters won the battle,” Killian tells her, smiling and sipping from the bottle in front of him. “How was your day at work, Swan?”

“David hit a new record in computer freeze-ups, so it was a little long.”

“It’s not my fault the computers are still running Windows 95,” David argues, his scowl not directed at Emma but at the ancient technology they’re currently running in the station. 

“And it’s not my fault you just decided this year that you wanted to start digitizing the last fifty years of records we have,” Emma retorts, losing the battle with herself and sticking her tongue out at David when he does the same to her. “Also, I would definitely argue that it is your fault that our equipment is so damn old.”

“Have you spoken to Regina about upgrade budgets?” This comes from the other end of the table, where Robin is seated, and almost every head swivels to look at him. “Ah, that’s right. You’re all terrified of my fiance. How silly of me to forget.” The blase tone has no offense to it; Robin is simply used to the stunned silence he gets at the obvious suggestion of asking Mayor Mills for budget increases in certain departments. It’s no big deal to him, the guy dating her, because one day he walked into her office to talk to her about a playground rebuild and suddenly they were seen everywhere.

Of course, back then, everywhere they were seen included heavy amounts of arguing. Then, suddenly, one day they were everywhere and making out. So that was an interesting development for a sleepy little town. 

“You know, I forgot that since she started dating you she’s been much easier to talk to,” Emma mentions. “Maybe I’ll schedule an appointment with her and ask about getting some upgrades in the station.”

“It’s best that you do this one on your own. She’s still mad at me for dragging a pack of dogs through those daffodils she had in front of Town Hall,” David admits.

“Only a little, mate,” Robin adds, winking when David looks at him. 

“Isn’t it rather handy to have the expat club around, love?” Killian nudges her with his elbow when he says it, grinning wide when she makes eye contact.

“It’s not so bad, I guess,” she responds with her own smile back. 

After a couple hours, the length of the day starts to weigh on her and she can feel her eyes drooping shut even with the group still in full swing. 

“Okay, I’m calling it a night,” she announces to their side of the table. 

“I’ll walk with you, Swan, if you’ll allow me. I’m at the end of my night, as well.”

It’s on the tip of her tongue to dismiss him, but Snow catches her eye and gives her one of her meaningful looks. She gives one of her own back, indicating that yeah, fine, okay she gets the message.

“Okay. Let’s go,” she says lamely, instead of whatever objection had been waiting.

Outside, they both take a moment to adjust to the quiet and the wind, with Emma pulling out her beanie and pulling it on snugly.

“I need to remember my own,” Killian says, indicating the hat on her head. “You’d think I would be better suited for cold weather given the track record of my home country.”

“After I moved back it was a struggle to get used to the temperatures again,” Emma admits.

“Moved back?”

“From Florida. I spent three years down there,” she says, leaving out all the rest of the story on purpose. But the answer seems to suit Killian just fine. 

“I never officially lived anywhere else until I moved here,” he tells her as they walk down the street. “Visited a lot of places in the Navy, but official, permanent addresses were all in the same town.”

“The Navy, huh?”

“Aye. One day you’ll get to hear all about my sordid but charming history,” he says, a teasing note to the words. 

It’s so easy, walking the short distance with him. She almost tells him she can take the rest alone when they hit their corner but she resists, instead leading him again along the path to her building. He stops when she does, still standing a respectable distance away. 

“Thanks for walking with me,” she says quietly. In truth, she wants to ask him up for a cup of coffee or something, but she can’t remember the last time she’s had a man in her home and now doesn’t feel like a good time to try when it’s getting late and she wasn’t lying about how tired she is.

“Always a pleasure. Goodnight.”

She responds in kind, itching like she did that first time he walked her home to reach out, to have some form of physical signature to end the evening. 

He’s just turning away when she moves again, grabbing his arm and going for a quick kiss on his cheek but he turns and the peck ends landing right on the corner of his mouth. Rather than sink into the comforting embrace of awkwardness, she stands her ground against the urge to run.

“Thank you again,” he tells him.

“For what?”

“Everything. Walking me home. Understanding. Not pushing me. I’m trying to get on the same level, and I wanted you to know that.” 

“All at your own pace, Swan. Goodnight,” he says again, his smile tinged with peace.

She makes sure to give him one last wave and smile when she gets to the door, liking the way this night ended much more than the last time he walked her home. 

-x- October 30: Wednesday

While Storybrooke is a small town, it doesn’t mean Mayor Mills has an abundance of time. As such, Emma can’t get an appointment until Wednesday. It’s something to break up the monotony of the day, however, so she doesn’t mind. Right before lunch time, she heads to the stately office building and waits her turn behind various townspeople requests.

It’s such a simple meeting, with professional courtesies and barely any spare chatting or gossip. Regina’s never really been the type, even before she got together with Robin. While he’s certainly made her more approachable, the meeting is still over about ten minutes after it begins, and Emma comes away from it with more than she anticipated.

Armed with her upgrades budget and a wishlist a mile long, Emma heads outside and starts walking back to the station. Across the street is NeverEndings and she slows down a bit, weighing the decision to go in. Ultimately, the idea of surprising Killian and maybe asking him if he wants to grab lunch with her is what sends her crossing, pulling open the heavy wooden door and rushing into the reception area. 

The last couple days have been really nice with him. They walk together in the mornings, and sometimes she loops her arm through his while they cross the street. She has snuck him two kisses outside of the library so that Granny doesn’t see it when he leaves her at the front of the diner. 

And today, she didn’t even have to stop at the diner. Instead, Killian was waiting at their corner with a second mug of coffee. The least she can do is give him his afternoon caffeine fix. 

It turns out the office building is a little more active during the day compared to when she brought him his dinner. She stands there in shock for a moment, remembering that there are people that work here that aren’t Killian, or Will, or Robin, and trying to decide if this really was a good idea. 

She’s just about to turn around and head out again when the secretary, a woman named Anna, calls out to her. 

“It’s nice to see you, Emma! It’s been too long! Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“Um, I’m actually here to see Killian? Killian Jones?”

“He’s in his office. Do you need me to take you back?”

“No, thanks. I know the way. Thanks Anna.”

It looks like Anna is about to launch into something else to say - the woman has a penchant for talking far too much but is one of the nicest people she’s ever met - but Emma moves quickly beyond the desk and back towards the office she knows. 

She weaves her way through the halls again, finding Killian’s door wide open this time. He’s not alone, however, and she startles when she sees a young teenager sitting in the chair across from Killian’s desk. Like he can sense she’s there, the man in question glances away from his computer screen and makes eye contact with her. 

“Ah, Swan! Good afternoon. Henry, just give me one moment,” he tells the young man in the chair, starting to rise from his own. 

“Sorry, I didn’t -” 

The boy turns then, curious brown eyes landing on her, so familiar that it steals all the breath in her lungs momentarily. Even his hair looks the same color as Neal’s. 

“I didn’t know you were busy. Never mind,” she says quickly, turning from the door and all but running back out through the front doors before Killian even has a chance to finish standing up.

“Emma?” 

His voice follows her down the hallway, but she doesn’t slow down, doesn’t even stop to consider what this may look like to him. The only thing she’s concerned with is getting away from the memories she wishes she could forget. 

Her feet take her to Granny’s - something about this place is the heart of Storybrooke and so everyone always ends up here one way or another - but it’s mostly a trip for comfort rather than necessity this time.

In that regard, the proprietress must sense her needs, because she’s handing over a bear claw fresh from the fryer while Emma waits for her usual lunch to cook. Directly after, a mug of hot cocoa is placed in front of her, cinnamon already sprinkled over the whipped cream. 

“How much do I owe you?”

“Same as always,” Granny says without slowing down in her movements behind the counter. “Dessert’s on me. The hot chocolate is from that one over there.”

Emma glances to where she’s pointing, expecting to see David or Ruby or anyone besides Will settling into a booth along the windows. He raises his own mug and turns back to his conversation with Belle, but she has a feeling that’s not the end of the moment just yet. 

She’s halfway through pushing her lunch around her plate when Will wanders over and props against the counter where she’s seated. 

“Did she put the rum in it like I asked?” he asks, pointing to the mug in her hands. Suddenly, she wonders if there was a different tang to the usual comfort today but Will’s smile is one she recognizes. “Only joking, lass. I know you’re on the clock. But surely you could’ve used it with the way you looked when you ran from the office.”

“You saw that?” She wants to cringe, to run away and hide again, but Will isn’t judging her so it’s not the end of the world. 

“Sped right past me as I was on my way back to Killian’s office. You know him and I go way back?”

“I thought you just met when he moved here.”

“Hardly. Met right before he joined the Navy through some literary club thing he was in. He was interning at the London branch when this position opened up and I told Robin to hire him and stop having all those brains wasted on fetching coffee and being a gopher.”

“Leaving England for a junior editor position had to be a big decision. Why would he come all this way for a spot he probably would’ve gotten if he stuck it out over there?”

“That’s all his story to tell you. But there is something I’ll tell you about Killian,” Will starts, and Emma won’t lie and say her heart doesn’t stutter at the words. She’s expecting the worst, as always, but she nods at him to continue.

“He hasn’t been in a relationship for a long time. Had his heart broken clean in two. If I’m not mistaken, that’s something the two of you have in common,” he says gently. There’s something about the way he says it. This is a level of friendship they’ve never crossed, preferring witty banter and faked hatred to show their friendly affection for each other instead.

“I’m guessing he doesn’t know you’re telling me this?” Emma asks.

“No. Probably tell me to mind me own bloody business. But it’s funny. About a month and a half ago he started smiling the way he did, before life got to him.” He gives her a look at that, before Belle is back by his side. Her fingers link with his like she doesn’t even know she’s doing it, and the sight makes something in Emma’s stomach clench with want. 

They turn to leave her, but Emma calls back to Will before he gets too far.

“Thanks. I’ll try not to be too mean to you from now on,” she says.

“Bollocks! That’s half the fun of it!” he exclaims, grinning ear to ear and turning around as Emma laughs. 

She doesn’t particularly want to return to the station but knows she should go back to work. The rest of her day is spent intently focusing on the files she’s copying. When David leaves for the day, she tells him to go on ahead. If he’s worried, he knows better than to push for information right now, which works just fine for her. She’ll talk when she’s ready.

When the last file of her stack is completed, she finally shuts everything down, looking up to find Mulan kicked back at her desk and reading a book. 

“Never thought you’d give up,” the other woman mutters without looking away. “Go home. David delivered food to your apartment over an hour ago.”

“I’m going. But not because you told me to,” Emma points out. She stands, bending and twisting and stretching until all the pops and cracks from her back have helped ease some of the pain she feels. 

With more amiable separating words from both of them, Emma finally leaves Mulan to take over the next shift, knowing that Phillip will probably be in after his aptly named son, Phillip, is put to bed for the evening. Her walk home is trudging, at best. Even knowing that David dropped off food for her isn’t helping pick up her feet any. 

The shock of seeing a kid look that much like Neal is enough to sour a whole day, if not the whole rest of the week. 

It’s not just that Neal left her, and that he left in the middle of the night while she slept, but that he did it because he thought Emma was pregnant. There was no indication that she even was. She had a stomach bug, three days of her head in the toilet which was preceded by her mentioning she had a craving for Granny’s grilled cheese sandwiches and a chocolate milkshake from back home.

Not even bothering to do the math or ask about her cycle, he just assumed that the cravings and the vomiting meant she was pregnant. They’d had sex once. For roughly thirty seconds until he complained that she was too tight and he pulled out. And he’d been wearing a condom. 

The anger of it starts fueling her into moving again, and she almost rushes right past Granny’s when she hears the calling of her name. 

“Evening, Swan!” Killian greets her from where he’s kicked back in one of the chairs on the patio, even though it’s far too cold to be sitting out here like that.

She waves, something jerky and unsure, and keeps moving along. She had no intentions of waltzing into his office and then fleeing like it was the scene of a crime this morning, and it’s mostly embarrassment that has her feet moving quicker. 

“Come on, Swan. Don’t make a man drink alone.”

“Not in the mood for a drink. Or a man,” she says, half-zoned out and just wanting to get home to try to process the rest of her emotions. 

“Emma, sweetheart?” he asks, hurt evident in his voice, and when she doesn’t slow down he gets up from the chair he was in and moves after her. “Wait a moment, Swan. What’s happened? What did I do between this morning and when you stopped by my office?” 

The fact that he thinks it’s his fault is what has her slowing minimally and letting him catch her around the forearm with his prosthetic hook. He uses that momentum to coax her to turn around, and the look on his face is finally what makes her cave. He doesn’t deserve the brunt of her fuckery. He’s been so patient through everything else, and while any other man in her life would’ve probably run at her first change of heart, this one has stood nearby with no pressure, no conditions asked. She fights through that heavy feeling in her chest, past the lump in her throat, so she can maybe even try to explain what happened. 

“It’s not you. I just… was reminded of my past and why I’m not good at this kind of thing.

“You’ve got to trust that I have no ill intentions here.”

“You think this is because I don’t trust you?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Of course I trust you. But it doesn’t change the fact that everyone I’ve ever been with has left me behind.” It’s probably the first time Emma has ever admitted any of this out loud, and suddenly what she thought was just a slight case of emotions feels a lot more like a boulder sitting in her stomach. For the tiniest moment, she’s afraid she’ll start crying. Her voice is almost garbled when she speaks again, fighting past the emotions welling up. “Neal, Graham… even Walsh. They left me in one way or another.” He doesn’t know them yet, doesn’t know what they did, but letting their names out into the open takes away some of their power.

Moving just a bit closer, Killian holds eye contact with her, probably just as much for him as for her. “Well, love. You don’t have to worry about me. I may leave this area on occasions, but I’ve no intention of leaving you unless you tell me to.”

It could just be an empty promise, but coming from Killian it sounds like a genuine one. She nods, just a fraction of her chin tilting down, to show him she understands. He moves forward the rest of the way, his intent clear without being overpowering. And then he’s kissing her, his arm coming snugly around her waist. 

It’s different from their first kiss and the small affectionate gestures they’ve shared recently. There’s something more than intention behind it and without the spontaneous factor involved, it’s calmer if not less intense. It doesn’t occur to her to be ashamed that they are standing in the middle of the street because how can she care about anything else when Killian is doing his best to remind her what human connection feels like with each subsequent press of his lips? 

This is enough for now, the start of a new routine for them. She always just assumed he was some nerdy dude with an office job, but really, Killian is like twenty things all wrapped into one and she’s discovering she’s eager to uncover each layer of him one at a time. 

With that thought, her final hang-ups fall away and she surrenders instead to the warm lips attached to the man that has changed her mind about dating. She thinks to tell him that, but then he’s shifting, his hand sliding into her hair as his left arm pulls her closer and then she’s all but crawling into his jacket. He’s warm, chasing away the chill she’s felt not just because of the temperatures but because of the hole she let herself sink into earlier. Chest to chest, she can feel the sound that rumbles through him when she wraps her arms around his waist. 

There’s a part of her that wants to know, desperately, why she was resisting this - resisting him, but she knows there’s still miles to go before all the dark spots fall away from her memories. This is a good start, though. It’s just them, figuring things out and also making out like they’re a couple of teenagers.

“There are better places to do that than the middle of the road.” It’s Granny’s voice that springs them apart. 

“Seriously?!” Emma says, looking over Killian’s shoulder at the older woman. 

Granny just gives her one of her patented looks and goes back inside, leaving them alone again.

“Would it be all right if I walked you home?”

“Sure. I’d like that,” Emma answers, taking his hand as they start heading that way. “Are you dressing up for Halloween tomorrow?”

“Aye. Quite the get-up I’ve got, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

He hums his agreement, but not saying anything more about it. “How about you, love? What have you cooked up for a costume?”

“I don’t normally dress up,” Emma admits. “But I think I can pull something together easily enough.” Even as she says it, she’s thinking of the parts of a suit she has at home. Surely she can pull that off with a couple accessories, right? It’s too good of an idea not to try, and so even though she's sad to say goodnight to Killian after the moment they’ve just had, she’s also excited to get inside and go tearing through her closet.

She makes sure to thoroughly kiss him goodnight before she does, however.

-x-

Chapter 5

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan ff #sarah writes ff #csrt

[maluminspace]

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Platonic Ashton Irwin/Calum Hood/Luke Hemmings/Michael Clifford/Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Requested: anon

Please could you write something with the boys helping the reader after a suicide attempt

Trigger Warnings: sucide attempt, references to cutting wrists, feelings of hopelessness, depression, anxiety

A/N: I am aware that the subjects of depression and suicide are very serious and delicate. I would never write something like this lightly. I was asked by an anonymous follower to write this because they wanted a part of their story to be told. It’s for that reason that I wanted to write this. I have realised recently that there are a whole bunch of people in this fandom who don’t feel they can relate to the biggest part of fanfic out there for one reason or another. Some can’t relate to most stories because of their gender identification (or lack thereof) or their sexual orientation, which I have taken a big step in addressing recently. Other people, however, can’t relate due to other reasons. I wanted to give all those people, especially the brave person that approached me for this, something to show that they are not alone. I realise that there are plenty of triggering things in this and I urge you to only read it if you feel like you can. If you want to reblog it, please do so with all of the necessary trigger warnings. As I’ve said before, fanfic was probably originally meant as a fun escape, something meant to be lighthearted. However I feel like it can be very valuable in giving people alternative fiction to read,where they feel a little more seen and hopefully less alone. Once again I ask you all to proceed with caution, the last thing I want is to trigger anyone. I’ve tried to keep references to the actual attempt to a very minimum. This is meant to concentrate on the recovery aspect. I’d like to end this note by sending my love and support to everyone who can relate to this any way.

Thank you to @mermaidcashton for editing for me <3

***

Running a fingertip over the fading scars on your wrist, you listen to the general day-to-day noises beyond your little room on the psych ward for the last time. 

It’s kind of hard to believe that you’ll be leaving here in a few minutes, hoping never to return again. You’re pretty sure that you won’t need to. The lovely staff here have done their job, now it’s time for you to take your recovery to the next level.

Of course you’re nervous. On some level you’ve been partly dreading this day. Going home to the place where it happened isn’t going to be easy and you know that. It’s not going to do you any good to worry about that now, though. It’s better to focus on the positives, instead. Luckily there is a lot of those. Firstly, you have every right to feel very proud of yourself. You’ve completed your sixty days here and made an amazing start on your road to recovery. Secondly, you’re being rewarded by returning home to your four favourite people in the whole world. They were downstairs right now, signing you out at reception, just waiting to take you back to the cozy little house you all shared. Thirdly, you get to sleep in your own bed tonight! Something you’ve been looking forward to almost as much as the millions of hugs you’re about to get from your four best friends.

“Are you ready dear.” 

Your nurse’s kind voice breaks through your thoughts and pulls your attention to the door of the tiny bedroom that had been your home for the last two months. You immediately drop your hands to your sides, looking almost guilty at having been rubbing your scars, albeit subconsciously. 

“Your friends are here to take you home.” The nurse smiles kindly, gesturing towards the corridor behind her. 

You return her friendly gesture, scooping up your backpack before allowing your nurse to lead you down to reception. The hallway is fairly quiet. You can hear the muffled sound of your fellow patients chatting away to each other in one of the large communal areas as you pass it.

As you leave the ward, your nurse explains that you’ll be given a weekly appointment with a therapist that you’ll continue to see for as long as necessary. That thought eases your worries a little, knowing that you’ll still have that element of professional support.

When you reach the reception area, all of the nerves and apprehension you’ve been harbouring temporarily melt away as you lay eyes on your four best friends. They already have the rest of your possessions and it finally seems real; you’re going home.

The four ridiculously tall men are gathered near the desk, talking quietly. They’ve visited you every single week since you’d been admitted to hospital, however they somehow look different out here and it brings a bright smile to your face. The biggest difference from their weekly visits is that they’re all together this time. Usually they take it turns to come and see you so that you have at least one person there at every visiting session. That’s all over now, you get to see all four of them every single day from now on, which is something you will never take for granted again. 

As the four men are deep in conversation, you have time to thank your nurse and say goodbye to her before you make your way over to them.

“I hope you boys aren’t gossiping about me.” You tease, grinning excitedly as you finally allow yourself to believe that you’ll be leaving with them in a minute or so.

All four of them look over at you with exactly the expression you’d pictured on each of their faces.

Luke and Michael immediately break into the biggest, most beaming smiles you can ever remember seeing on their handsome faces. Ashton’s smile is a little more muted and apprehensive, he’s always been the worrier and you expect nothing less of him. Calum on the other hand doesn’t smile at all, he hangs back as the other three rush to engulf you in a hug. It’s not because he’s not happy or excited to see you, he’s just always been the quiet one. He knows that today has the potential to really overwhelm you, so staying true to his character, he patiently awaits his turn.

As you savour being engulfed by the other three, you motion for Calum to join in. “This is a group hug moment, Cal…” you reassure him before Ashton reaches over to pull him into the huddle. He doesn’t take much convincing, he muscles into the hug between Ashton and Luke, resting his forehead against yours before placing a soft kiss to it. The others shower you with pecks to your cheeks and head, as well, friendly little gestures that let you know just how much you’ve been missed.

It feels as though time stands still for while. As much as you enjoy being suspended in that moment, you’ve been in this place long enough. “Are we going to stand here all day or are you lot actually going to take me home?” You ask, a nervous giggle escaping you. 

“Of course we’re taking you home, Tiny!” Ashton replies softly. “We just needed that group hug. It’s been a while since all five of us were in the same place at the same time.”

The use of your fond nickname melts away a few more of your nerves about leaving the psych ward. You’ve always loved being the shortest in your friendship group and the name ‘Tiny’  was one of the main reasons why. “Well I hope you’ve stocked up the house with all the food and stuff we need for the weekend because I want at least a forty eight hour cuddle fest.”

“This is why you’ve always been my favourite friend!” Michael exclaims, his emerald eyes brimming with fondness. “You understand the importance of cuddling which is why I am claiming the spot next to you on the sofa! We’ll make a duvet nest and make Luke wait on us hand and foot.” He smirks at the tallest man as he backs away from the huddle.

“Why me?!” Luke protests, “I love cuddles as much as you do!”

Michael scoffs as he takes your backpack and heads across the lobby towards the exit. “Whatever you say, breadstick.”

Luke heads off after Michael, his face set in a defiant expression as he begins to protest.

“I’m so sorry you had to come back to this,Tiny.” Calum mumbles as he slings an arm around your shoulders. “As you can tell, those two idiots haven’t changed a bit. They’re still as ridiculous as ever.”

“Good.” You reply. “I’d have been disappointed if they weren’t.”

Just as Calum begins to lead you towards the door, Ashton stops you both, gesturing towards the reception desk. “Before you resume your role as our much needed peace keeper, you need to sign out and get your appointment for next week.” He looks almost apologetic, like he’s scared of ruining your happy moment.

You offer him an understanding smile before stepping over to the desk. The friendly receptionist hands you a clipboard with a form attached before indicating the box you need to sign in. You scribble your signature and take the little slip of paper that informs you of the date and time of your therapy appointment for the following week. After thanking the lady once more you rejoin Ashton and Calum, allowing them to lead you outside. 

As you step through the automatic your doors your heart threatens to burst out of your chest. You’re not sure whether that’s more because you’re nervous or excited, it’s most likely a mixture of both.

Little things that you’d taken for granted before coming here suddenly seem incredibly significant. The sound of the gravel crunching beneath your shoes, the distant rumble of traffic on the main road, passers by smiling at you out of friendly courtesy instead of sympathy and the feeling that you can literally go anywhere you please right now. It’s all a bit overwhelming but Calum and Ashton are a comforting presence beside you, grounding you but remaining silent as though they just instinctively know what you need.

Luke and Michael are standing beside the familiar beat-up old SUV, still bickering until the moment they notice you walking towards them. “Your carriage awaits!” Luke grins, “I’m sitting next to you in the back, that’s non-negotiable!”

“Of course!” You smile, taking one last glance at the hospital over your shoulder. “It’s always you me and Mike in the back, it’s the dads’ job to drive us around, isn’t it?”

“We’re only the designated drivers because the rest of you can’t be trusted behind the wheel!” Ashton chuckles, “Luke drives like a grandpa and Michael thinks he’s fucking Baby Driver.” 

You couldn’t argue with that statement and it seems that Luke and Michael can’t either as they don’t even try to protest. The youngest friend traits round to the other side of the car whilst Michael holds the nearest car door open for you. “It’s good to have you back,Tiny.” He smiles, ruffling your hair as you duck your head to climb into the backseat. 

To avoid getting too sappy, something very easily done around your best friends, particularly Michael, you opt for a light response. “It’s good to be back, as long as you’ve all left my room well alone whilst I’ve been gone.”

Your friends exchange mischievous glances and you’re immediately suspicious. “It’s almost exactly as you left it.” Luke smirks as he plugs in your seatbelt for you. 

“Almost?” You question warily, “what have you dorks done?”

“Wow we almost made it five minutes before before you insulted us, I’m impressed.” Michael giggles as he shuffles onto the seat beside you and fastens his own seatbelt. 

The blonde’s words prove to be an impressive distraction, successfully leading into a full blown discussion on who throws the most insults at the other four. By the time everyone is securely belted, you’ve completely forgotten about the hint that something’s been changed in your beloved bedroom. 

“Everyone ready, then?” Ashton asks, although his soft hazel eyes meet yours in the rear-view mirror and you know that the question is specifically for you. 

You dip your head in a clear nod, you’ve never more ready to return home. 

Your eldest friend smiles at you understandingly as he starts the car. 

Part of you wants to take one last look at the hospital as Ashton pulls out of the parking space. You resist the urge, though, settling for watching the imposing building’s reflection disappear from the rear-view mirror as your friend drives out of the parking lot and onto the road. 

The five of you remain silent for a while as Calum leans forward in the front passenger seat to put on the radio. The familiar songs make the atmosphere a bit less tense. Not that it’s uncomfortable at all, it’s just obvious that your friends aren’t entirely sure what they should do now. They want to be there for you but it’s not always clear how to do that in the best way. It’s understandable of course, how are they supposed to know exactly what you need from them if you don’t talk to them. That’s one of the things you’ve been learning to do; to open up. As you try to think of a way to open up a relaxed conversation, you subconsciously begin to scratch at the scars on your wrists again. The raised lines over your veins are proof that you are healing both on the inside and the outside. It’s not good for you to pick at them, you know that, it’s just a bad habit that you can’t seem to shake yet.

Without saying a single word, Michael reaches for your hand, gently intertwining his fingers with yours and bringing your hand to rest on the seat between the two you, safely enclosed in his. Luke does the same with your other hand, both boys offering you a soft smile before returning their attention to the street on either side of the car. The caring gestures mean more to you than you’ll ever be able to express and you’re more determined than ever to make something of the second chance you’ve been given at life.

You give yourself a moment to process how lucky you are to have such a stable support network. These four men might be huge idiots at times but they’re the best friends anyone could ever hope of having. You allow the warmth from Michael and Luke on either side of you to calm your mind a bit before settling on a topic to hopefully get a conversation flowing. “So have you got any new gossip since the last time you came to visit?” You ask, looking at each man in turn. “Has Kevin from number 63 stopped bragging about his new Jag yet?”

Ashton huffs indignantly as the other three start laughing. The eldest friend has never really gotten on all that well this particular neighbor and always gets very wound up by his many annoying habits. Of course, you and your other three housemates like to tease him about it relentlessly. 

“That fucking dick…” Ashton huffs. “If I have to hear about how fast that stupid car can go one more time, I swear I’m gonna key it!”

“As you can see…” Calum smirks, twisting in his seat to look back at you. “Ashton’s attempts at making friends with all of our neighbours is going really well.”

Obviously trying to keep his strong feelings about this matter at an acceptable level, Ashton tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “It’s only him that I have a problem with, his wife is really nice…”

“Yeah we know you like Jillian, Ash…” Michael teases. “We’ve all seen you take a sneaky look at her ass when she walks past our house in those tiny shorts she likes to wear…”

Ashton’s ears and cheeks immediately turn crimson as he tries to deny the allegation.

You laugh freely, pleased that your plan has started work. Luckily the Kevin and Jillian discussion leads on to other gossip and general chit-chat that ends up passing the time easily and before you know it, Ashton is pulling into the gravel driveway in front of the house the five of you share.

Without really meaning to, you tighten your grip on Michael’s and Luke’s hand, having held them contentedly for the whole journey. As excited as you are to be home, a flurry of butterflies take up residency in your tummy as you look up at the house where it all happened almost three months ago. Unfortunately this house will always hold those terrible memories but you’re determined to fill it with new, much happier ones now.

“You okay,Tiny?” Michael asks, his tone quiet and caring. “Do you need a minute before we head inside?”

You shake your head, knowing that thinking too long will only heighten your anxiety. “No, I’m good…” You confirm, finally letting go of your friends’ hands so that they can get out of the car.

“We’ve got so many surprises for you, by the way.” Ashton announces as he unclips his seatbelt. “Including a fridge and freezer full of all of your favourite food!”

“Does that include buttery popcorn?” You ask hopefully, shuffling along the back seat now that Luke’s stepped out onto the driveway.

Calum scoffs, turning back to look at you fully from the front seat. “That was the very first thing on our ‘welcome home’ shopping list for you.”

Your heart is so full of love for your friends in that moment that it almost brings tears to your eyes. “You really are the best.” You mumble offering Calum a watery smile before climbing out of the car.

“If you’re that excited about the popcorn then you’re gonna lose your shit when you see what else we’ve done!” Luke beams. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders as the others grab your things and lock up the car.

Michael runs past you, slinging your backpack over his shoulder. “He’s right, but you have to close your eyes before we go inside!”

Even Calum and Ashton, the most mature and sensible of your friends, are acting kind of giddy with excitement as they sidle past to open the front door. 

“Do I really have to close my eyes?” You pout, “you know I’m clumsy, what if I fall?”

“We’ll never let that happen, Tiny.” Ashton reassures you. “Now close your eyes and we’ll lead you in, okay?”

Of course you trust them, but you feel a little bit silly as you close your eyes. The unmistakable sound of the key turning in the lock and the front door swinging open, signal that you can walk forward, Luke and Calum both lead you into the house, telling you when to take the one step up into the hallway. 

You’re utterly confused as to what this huge surprise is, but you wait until you hear the front door being closed behind you before you ask if you can open your eyes yet.

It’s another couple of seconds, during which you hear your friends scurrying around, before Calum finally says “Okay!” the smile in his voice is obvious and you find yourself opening your eyes even quicker just to get a glimpse of it. 

Sure enough, all four of your friends are looking back at you with beaming grins. Calum’s and Ashton’s cheeks dimple adorably, Michael’s eyes are scrunched in the corners the way they always do when he smiles particularly enthusiastically and Luke’s lips are curved prettily in that ‘model’ smile he always does. 

For a moment, you’re so focused on how much you love these dorks, that you don’t realise that your first surprise is actually all around you. You gasp when you notice that the hallway has been repainted and the tired old side table has been replaced with a rather ornate new one.

“You always said that grey would be a nice colour in here.” Ashton mutters, stroking the back of his neck nervously. “Do you like it?”

Nodding, you traipse over to the side table to find a bunch of pictures perched on it. Happy tears spring to your eyes when you take in all the happy memories that they represent; the trip you all took to the beach a couple of years ago, the barbeque you held last summer where Ashton burnt the halloumi and Michael wouldn’t speak to him for the rest of the night and the first selfie that the five of you took on the first day you all moved in together. 

“I chose those frames.” Michael announces proudly, placing a hand on your shoulder, “They look nice, don’t they?”

“Perfect.” You confirm, your voice sounding thick over the lump in your throat.

“There’s so much more to show you, though!” Luke interjects, taking your hand and leading you through to the kitchen. “We didn’t change too much in here because we know you love it the way it is, but we did get buy some new mugs…” He gestures to where five mugs are sitting on the counter near the sink, each one with a big gold letter on, the first letter of each of your names. 

“They have our star signs on the back, too!” Ashton adds excitably. “You know I’m a sucker for that stuff.” He picks up the nearest mug which happens to be his own and proudly shows the cancer constellation on the back of it in the same shiny gold as the ‘A’ emblazoned on the front.

You take it from him to get a closer look. “They’re so nice!” You exclaim before placing it back down next to the rest.

“Yeah, perfect for these…” Michael grins, opening a cupboard to reveal a whole shelf of different flavour tea, coffee and hot chocolate. 

Giggling at the sweet gesture you give each of them a quick hug. “You’re all the best, you know?”

“You haven’t even seen the best parts yet.” Ashton shrugs, “Come look at the sitting room!”

You follow him back through the hallway and into the living room, grinning at the pretty new sofa they’ve squeezed into the cozy room. 

“It’s a corner sofa, so we can all fit on it!” Luke squeals, “no more fighting over has to sit alone in the arm chair.”

There’s no denying that all of your buddies have put in a lot of effort to freshen up the house ready for your arrival today. A shiny ‘Welcome Home!’ banner has been hung on the fireplace and on one side of the fancy new sofa, there’s a neat pile of blankets, duvets and pillows ready for the nest that you’ll inevitably be making very soon. 

“You’ve all gone to so much trouble.” You sniffle. “You’ll never know how grateful I am.”

“Nothing’s any trouble when it’s for you, Tiny..” Calum smiles softly. 

It’s only then that you realise he’s been very quiet up ‘til now. “Is everything okay, Cal?” You ask, touching his arm gently. “You look anxious.”

Calum nods but his expression remains slightly tense. “I just… Well I hope you like the last part of this surprise, that’s all.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it!” You reassure him. “Where is it?”

“Upstairs.” He replies anxiously, gesturing back out into the hallway.

You feel a knot of dread tighten in your stomach as you hear Michael and Luke scurry up the stairs ahead of you. Judging by the nervous glances that Calum and Ashton share, you have a feeling that this part of the surprise is going to be somehow directly linked to what happened last time you were up there and part of you doesn’t want to know what it is.

“It’s okay, Tiny.” Ashton reassures you. “It’s a nice surprise, I promise.”

There’s no reason to doubt your friends now, they’ve done so much to help you so far that it’s obvious they’re just trying to make today special and so far they’ve succeeded. As you allow them to lead you up the stairs, you notice that pretty new paintings and a few other photographs have appeared on the walls.

“Ashton painted those.” Michael beams, shooting your eldest friend a proud glance. “We told him they were too good to keep stuffed down the side of his bed!”

You nod in agreement. Each picture is beautiful in it’s own right, all of them colourful and expressive, just like Ashton himself.

Once you reach the top of the stairs you fully expect to be led to your room, presuming that the final part of the surprise is that they’ve redecorated your room or something. Therefore, you’re utterly shocked and confused when your friends lead you towards Calum’s room.

“Okay, so you’re going to have to use your imagination a little bit.” Calum explains, “We’d have loved to have finished it for you, but… Well, we needed you to be here to finish it with us really.” 

Your confusion grows as Ashton pushes open the door. To your bewilderment, All of Calum’s furniture and possessions are gone. The room is entirely empty besides a bed, which you immediately recognise as your own.

“We didn’t want to move all of your stuff without your permission, but we thought you’d like this room better than your old one.” Calum clarifies. “It has this big window and we know how much you’ve always wanted a window seat, Ashton says he can build one for you.”

“Calum…” You gasp, tears spilling over on to your cheeks. “I can’t take your room, this is… you love having the big room!”

Michael scoffs as he rushes over to wrap you in a hug. “Don’t worry about him, he gets to share with me until we can move him into your old room. Although, he’ll probably stay there forever because, we all know he’s the clingy one.”

You laugh at the way the blonde lowers his voice like he’s telling you a secret. “I think you’ll find that’s you.” You giggle, squeezing him tightly. 

Michael fakes being offended as he pulls away from you so that you can take a look at your new room properly.

“Maybe we can take a trip into town in the next few days, pick out some paint and furniture… We can have this all set up for you within a week or two if we get to work soon.” Calum suggests.

You perch on the end of your bed feeling totally lost for words as you glance around your new spacious room. “That sounds great but I’m gonna need at least a thousand hugs first, you guys are too much.”

One by one each of your friend’s surround you, Calum and Michael on either side of you, Ashton and Luke crouching down in front of you.

“We thought this would help you to have a nice fresh new start.” Luke smiles softly. “Plus you’re closer to my room now so it’ll be way easier for me to sneak in and watch trashy movies with you when these losers are all asleep.”

It’s obvious that there’s a bunch of reasons why your friends have done this, but it’s very clear that the overriding one is love. They love you unconditionally and the feeling is entirely mutual.

Tag list: @clffrd @byxthexway @afuckingunicornn @painkillerash @moonchildsblack @calumbbyyy @h0tsos @loveroflrh @sexgodashton @megz1985 @myfalsedevotion @aulxna @honeyedlashton @tea4sykes @ghostofmashton @fairyintheglass @cashworthy @cashtonasfuck @opheliaaurora23 @5sosnsfw @wildmichaelflower @myloverboyash @loverofcashton @irwinkitten @cxddlyash @wildmalumflower @cashtonasff5sos @iovehemmings​ @kindawannacryx @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @celticclifford @5-secondsofcolor

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #ot4 #platonic ot4 #tw: past suicide attempt #tw: suicide #tw: wrist cutting #tw: self harm #5sos blurb #5sos fic #michael clifford #calum hood #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #my writing

[iamknicole]

Just the Two of Us (20)

HAHN AU

Excuse any typos please!

Two weeks passed since the trip to Savannah and things had been relatively quiet. Lainey, Marcie and Melissa were moved into the house Caleb had fixed up. Both, Marcie and Melissa had served their husbands with divorce papers. Lainey knew her brothers, her father and boyfriend were all working hard to fix and handle things so she didn't protest when she realized she had a detail. Bishop was already following her, another person didn't bother her.

Charles had been back and forth from Atlanta to Savannah without Lainey knowing. He wanted to focus on business and not lead anybody to her new place just in case they were dumb enough to follow her.

He walked in the Love Train diner taking a moment to look around. Once he found who he was looking for, he winked at one of the owners an older woman before going to the booth. Making himself comfortable, he smiled at the man across from him.

"Mitchell Malone, you are not a hard man to find." He said coolly.

Mitch had to do a double take when he looked up from the menu. "What can I do for you, Charles?"

Charles chuckled picking up the menu in front of him opening it up. "You should get the pot roast, it's pretty good. And for the record, governor will always do from you. Alright, Mitchell?"

"You know I could kill you right now? There is a price on your head, ya know?"

"Hmm, I think I might try the iron city meatloaf. Did you know that the woman who owns this diner, Ms. Hattie, named that after Mama Rose? She loved it so much."

Mitch stared at him sitting the menu down. "Did you not hear me?"

Charles kept his eyes on his menu, "Maybe you're more of a chicken man. You have a lot in common."

"What's that mean, Charles?"

"I think I was very clear about what you could call me," Charles responded his eyes still on the menu, "You know Mama Rose is a sweet woman. She always tells me that she wishes you had even a little piece of what I have in me."

"Don't you dare bring up my grandmother."

The waitress approached the table for their orders, Charles took the initiative to order for them both disregarding Mitch's disdain. After he ordered, Charles turned his attention back to the man sitting across from him.

"I can do what I want, she's my grandmother as well. She invited me into the family a while ago," he smiled, "Yeah, you're her favorite grandchild but me? I am her favorite everything. When she's in trouble, when she needs anything she calls me. When I need anything, she volunteers to handle it."

Mitch grunted. "You say that to say what?"

"If and when Mama Rose finds out what you and those clowns are planning, family or not, she'll handle it. I won't even have to lift a finger if I don't want to."

"Yeah okay, dude. Whatever."

The waitress brought their drinks and food with a special message for Charles from Hattie. Quickly, Charles said his grace and started to eat his meatloaf.

"Eat up, no sense in having this conversation on an empty stomach. And don't worry, it's on me."

Begrudgingly, Mitch started to eat his food looking cautiously around the diner. He wasn't sure who or if anyone had come in with Charles so he kept his eyes opened. The thought of calling his uncle came and went, by the time his uncle got there Charles would've been long gone.

"You're familiar with Alaina Parker?"

"Yeah I know Lainey. Why?"

Charles corrected him quickly, "Alaina. I was told that not only do you have a growing obsession with her but you can't keep your hands to yourself when it comes to her."

"Don't know what you're talking about."

Charles hummed. "No, you know. I'm sure of it. Whatever you're thinking about that concerns her in any capacity, it'd be in your best interest if you let them remain thoughts."

"Look, I'm grown. I'm gonna do what I want."

"That's right you're gonna do what you want," Charles repeated then took a sip of his drink, "And if you do what you want that includes Alaina in any way then I'm gonna do what I want to you and whoever else that's involved."

Mitch leaned onto the table. "Is that a threat?"

"No, not at all, Mitchell. I am not threatening you, I'm simply telling you what's going to happen. And if you think what her brother did to you was painful then you don't want me to get my hands on you."

Mitch eyed him, his nostrils glared in annoyance. He couldn't believe Charles was trying to scare him. No one ever tries a Malone like that and gets away with it.

"You just watch your back, Governor."

"Only cowards kill from behind. Malones aren't cowards," Charles said wiping his mouth and getting up, "Or did you forget?"

Charles tossed the money on the table then strolled out of the fine going to the waiting SUV. He knew he'd put a fire in Mitch, that's exactly what he wanted. Mama Rose anyways told him how impulsive Mitch could be and that's exactly what he wanted.

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

Melissa sat in the middle of her bed waiting for Benny to come out her bathroom from taking his shower. She figured out a way to tell him that would hopefully put a smile on his face. Ten minutes later, Benny came out the bathroom in a t-shirt and basketball shorts going to plop on the bed beside her.

"You good? Look like you thinking?" He asked rubbing his head.

"Yeah tryna remember this riddle I learned today."

Benny laughed, "Look at you but you said mine were annoying."

Laughing, Melissa turned to face him on the bed. "They are annoying. Mine are actually good."

"Yeah yeah. Lay it on me then."

"I’m small but very important and loved already. I’m free to make but expensive over time. You’ll see me very soon but you cannot see me yet. What am I?"

Benny frowned thinking and repeating what she'd said. "Free to make but expensive over time? What the hell?"

Melissa laughed, "Think really hard, B."

He sat quietly, mumbling occasionally to himself. To be honest, it was getting harder and harder for Melissa not to blurt it out. She wanted him to know but she wanted him to work for it.

"See me soon but not yet ... small but important and loved," he said softly. A minute later he clapped and sat up. "I figured it out!"

"What's the answer, B?" Melissa laughed.

"Its a baby, that's the answer. Gone and tell me I'm right. Go head."

She nodded having his hand putting it on her stomach. "You're right, B. Its a baby."

Looking from her face to his hand and back again, a slow smile spread across his face. "A baby? We havin' a baby?"

"Yes, we're having a baby. You happy?"

Benny moved his hands to her face and kissed her urgently. "Yooo ... I'm havin' a baby. I can't believe this shit. That's my baby in there."

"That's right. I'll get a DNA test if you want, B. I don't mind."

"Nah," he said quickly, "Ain't no need for that. This baby couldn't be nobody's but mine. That's all me."

"You sure?"

"I'm damn sure. That's my baby and so are you."

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

Because of the appointment she had with Veronica and Victoria, Lainey let her stylist know that they weren't opening until 1pm. As soon as she pulled into the parking lot she noticed something was wrong. Throwing her car in park, she hopped out with her phone in her hand rushing to the salon where a few of her other girls were standing, staring.

"What the hell happened?" She asked looking at the broken glass everywhere from the window and doors. "What is this?"

One of the girls shrugged telling her they had all just gotten there right before she did. Nodding, Lainey carefully walked truth the glass and into her salon glancing momentarily at the all but destroyed doors. Tears stung her eyes with every step she took. Her salon had been destroyed. Dryers and sinks ripped from the wall so water had been spraying everywhere from the pipes, chairs ripped from the floor and beat to hell, all the mirrors were smashed. The computer in the reception area was smashed, there was damage to the desk as well. Her plants were uprooted scattered around along with the soil. Her pictures, her signs were all broken. There were things spraypainted along the walls that she didn't bother to read.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times but nothing came out.

"You want us to call the police, Lainey?"

Lainey shook her head slowly. "No, no don't. My brothers."

Taking the hint, her employee left her and went to make the call. Lainey's phone started to vibrate in her hand, she answered it slowly putting it to her ear.

"You free? Or you back at work?" Charles asked with joy in his voice.

"Charles," she whispered trying not to cry alerting him.

"What is it? What's wrong, baby?"

"My ... they ... its ruined," she mumbled still looking around.

"What's ruined? I dont understand."

"My salon," she cried into the phone. "Its ruined."

"Shit, I'm coming. I got the chopper on standby, thirty minutes at the most but I'm coming."

Lainey stumbled into the only chair that was still somewhat in tact and put her free hand on her face crying. Charles tried to soothe he as best he could but he knew she was devastated which pissed him off. He knew this wasn't a one and done, this was a warning and he was about to give one of his own.

#hahn au #just the two of us #have and have nots au

[naturaldisasterfanfiction]

21.

Throwing my phone onto the bed, that was an interesting conversation with my midwife. She is not happy at all, and I understand why because when my twenty week scan was done I was gone on that jet, she told me off and now I feel bad. I understand her concern, she asked if I saw anyone while out here, she said it’s your first baby and you have not come back, you haven’t cared to find out how the baby is doing “who was that? You were so quiet? Was it Jay?” Chris asked as he came out of the bathroom “the midwife, her angry British accent had me shook. She didn’t care for who I was, she told me off. Like bitch, you know who I am but I get it, so I am just letting it go but she made points” Chris pulled a face “did you tell her you was busy riding my dick?” I laughed shaking my head “no I did not! But she said ok your baby is moving but we need to see how she is doing inside, is she ready to come out. Is she ok, am I ok. They have had no update, no care. She was even more annoyed when I said I want a water birth and said well we need to actually talk to you, but she is right. I have not cared to contact them at all. She has booked me in for a check-up. She wants to do birthing exercises , I have done nothing and now I know that the birth is going to be dramatic now” the midwife is right, I have just ran off and I am just like the baby is moving, but not cared for the rest “I’ve not had the antenatal appointments I am supposed too and I am just getting so far along, I’ve been bad” does this make me a bad parent already “I don’t know this shit at all but I will agree with you” side eyeing Chris “saying I am a bad mother? Thank you!” I spat “you’re not, just there is a lot going on but we going back today so, oh wait. That means you’re going alone, oh no” Chris realised “who’s the bad parent now” I laughed, he is stood there judging me and he ain’t even going to be there “we both bad, wow. I mean that is the perfect love story, sorry though. That I won’t be there for you” he apologised, bless him “don’t be, I will have my mother she is arriving in London at the same time as me” Chris frowned as he threw his clothes in his bag “I mentioned my mother and you frown? She will be there you know, she doesn’t hate you, but she may side eye you at times. She wants to be there for me, she will be there at the birth but you are the one I want there holding my hand Chris, not everyone hates you” I can only assume he feels he will be pushed out “just your mom and me?” Chris asked “yes, so we are spending Christmas together, how romantic” Chris smiled “that is ok, I can take that. I thought it would be everyone?” shaking my head “I want peace” I am scared about this whole birthing business; I don’t need to have so much noise.

I am going to miss Chris so much; I am sad that he is leaving me because I do want him to be with me. I wanted him to go back with me, just to help me along because he is so caring towards me, just to have that male touch and loving. He is so caring towards me even though I go out of my way to try and do things and I am going to miss that about him, I don’t know how long he will be there for, let me ask actually “how long do you think you will be gone for?” walking around the bed “uhm, I don’t know. I need to make sure my dogs are ok, my cars are ok, my home. Also Royalty is ok, I need to make sure she has presents for Christmas too, Also Aeko. I need to make sure my affairs here are all good, but I am not sure how long that will take. I hope soon, trust me. I can’t let them know that I am moving so I have to do this all myself, I can’t trust people anymore. I can’t trust to tell them that I am moving to London because they will air me out, someone is always selling a story about me you see, but I will be quick of course” nodding my head, I am sad to be honest “you’re sad ain’t you” Chris said, resting my head on his chest with my head down “I am just going to miss you” I mumbled, I have enjoyed my time with him “and then you will be putting up with me for years to come, we good. I know we will” Chris wrapped his arms around me, I just want this forever “I love you so much” Chris pressed a kiss to my head, it sucks that he has to go there and then I am here, it’s just a big gap between us both.

My hand on my bump as I made my way to the living room, Royalty is so loud, like her father “everyone packed up then” I said walking in, Royalty became so quiet and sat down “I can’t believe that I can’t just get on the jet with Chris!” Jahleel spat, he is complaining “look” sitting down next to Mel “I can’t have you just coming off the jet with Chris, risk all this just for your ass to be comfortable? Mel, Dennis and Tina are not flying with him either, you have them” which he does “who is going with you?” Chris asked “me, myself and I. They have to go back to Cali and me, going to London. But they can’t go with you, not risking it. Dennis will be back, but he is seeing his family” Chris let out an oh “but then you’re alone? That is not good” I chuckled “yes but Chris my mom will be meeting me there, I will be ok. Just please do this as planned, Chris is going first and then we can go to the airport” this has to happen, so they need to be on board with this “bullshit ain’t it, having to hide. You shouldn’t fly on your own, what if something happens?” I really wanted to be the dramatic one, but Chris has clearly taken over, once again “like what? Unless the plane crashes” Chris mean mugged me “that would be my luck actually” Chris got up from the couch, Mel shook her head at me but what does he want me to do, go with him “let’s just not complain, we have come this far to not get caught. We need to think of Rihanna and the baby, the stress we could add to it if the world finds out beforehand, let’s just do it” Dennis is thinking of me “thank you, now come on. The next time you see me Tina there will be a baby in hand” I pointed out “wow, that is true. I am so excited” Tina ran over to me, she hugged me tight “love you so much Robyn” I cooed out, she is so cute when she listens of course.

Making my way to the reception area where Chris and Royalty are stood waiting to go, Chris stormed out earlier, but I didn’t chase him “the car is here?” I said, it should be anyways “yeah, why didn’t you say that you are flying alone?” Chris asked but he knows why “I didn’t want this reaction I will be ok, I am used to flying around alone, you know me. I hope to see you soon agian Royalty” I smiled lightly “but you got me” he retorted “I do but right now I don’t, you have things you need to do and I am ok with that. I need you to do what you need to do, I will be waiting for you” Chris frowned at me, I hate when he frowns “you always do Robyn! Don’t say that, I don’t care about shit in Cali, it’s you I care about” taking in a deep breath “we spoke about your mouth didn’t we? Stop” I pointed at him, his daughter is right there “it’s hard for me Chris, think of me” my voice broke, I don’t want to cry “I can’t do this” turning back around wiping my tears, walking towards the kitchen. I just want him to just do it for me and I hate that he is going but here we are, yes we have to hide but what does he want me to do we are stuck in this until we are ready, well me, until I am ready. Dabbing my face with the paper towel “I don’t want you to cry, why are you crying?” Chris said, he held my arms and I just cried. I am upset he is going, like I am trying to do it all, but I just can’t sometimes, I want him with me.

He needs to go, or it will make him late “just stop what you are saying ok, that was not nice, and I hope she didn’t understand it. Don’t mind me, call me when you get on your jet” Chris shook his head “you’re upset and it’s like my fault?” I smiled lightly “it’s not, it’s just nobody likes us to be happy. We will see each other again, just take your time though because you don’t need to rush. I am just sad to see you go Chris” Chris nodded his head “I can go to London with you and then go to California” bless him “just go, I love you” smiling at him “I love you too” crossing my arms across my chest walking off, I just rather not see him go. I do need him, I want him there with me for these appointments, it’s just not the same with my mom and I don’t want to say it to him because then it’s just added pressure for him. I hope when I turn around he’s gone because I rather he just goes, I will get over it of course, I always do but I feel him still here. Slowly turning around, my heart sank, and it sank because he’s still here “why?” now I am going to cry again, like I knew he was here because I felt him “I don’t want to leave you like this Robyn, I just feel I am doing wrong by going” shaking my head “you’re doing worse by being here, we will eventually be together” Mel walked into the kitchen finally “you two just need to do it, like Chris just go. I know it is hard” I swallowed hard staring at Chris “I am sorry, I love you though. And crumbs” he makes me smile so much “don’t be sorry, I love you too” Chris turned around to go, Mel rolled her eyes “you two are either too in love or hate each other” she is right, but I am going to miss him.

I really wish I were getting on the jet with Chris, I wish it were us together going to London. I really wanted Chris with me for the scans, but it is what it is, now I am on the jet alone, but I will be fine, I will get over it and I will do what I need to do. Like my home needs to be fixed up, I need to make my home an actual home so there is that. Chris is so quick, like I just text him that I am on the jet and have taken off and he is already facetiming me. Answering the facetime “hey” smiling at my phone “riri, hi!” Royalty shouted waving at the camera “hey baby, is your dad being good?” I asked “he is, he has gone toilet and he said I need to keep you until then. I never seen my dad cry before until now” I cooed out “well tell me when you need it to happen again, I can make him cry again” Royalty giggled “he’s stupid butt, I can’t wait for when I can be best friends with you and not need to hide but I will promise to not tell nobody, I will just say who is Rihanna? I don’t know her” she is cute “Exactly, but your refusal to call me Robyn will get you banned from the home, just like your dad calling me a dumpling but I am excited for you to come again. It will be good” Royalty cheesed so wide “give me now” the phone got snatched from her “my dumpling, I love you. How are you? I miss you already” smiling at Chris, I could just watch him “same, me and our princess is feeling it. I just felt emotional about leaving you. I wanted you to be with me, but all is well Chris, we will be soon. Ok?” Chris poked his lips out, his sad little face “I’m gonna turn this jet to London now” watching his rub his head “ain’t no problem, excuse me! Mr Pilot! Turn this jet around” he shouted while laughing “Chris! I swear, don’t bother” he laughed walking off “I am joking, my bad. But I will, for you. I can’t even smoke, shit is driving me crazy” I am thinking where is Chris walking too because he is on the jet, he is pacing.

Stifling out a yawn “you should be landing now so you can now leave me alone” he won’t get off facetime “never!” he shouted “whatever, you thought of any baby names? I am open to ideas?” I might as well ask him, he may have some idea on what he would like to call out baby “erm, Reiko or Akari” staring at Chris “sorry, were you trying to call my child some Chinese thing? I think not, you’re now not allowed to breathe a name near me” I am being deass, Chris snorted laughing “I hear these names on Anime shows, you know. Shit is different but what you thinking? I honestly don’t mind, you know me. I like watching these things” he is banned “well I think I would like to name her Fenty Clara Brown; I think it’s perfect. It may be my only baby, but it’s up to you too, so her name would be Fenty Brown, so like I am thinking. We may come into business together with that anyways. When she is older she will have all this to her, it’s just fitting” I have been thinking “business? Me and you?” Chris questioned “well Black Pyramid is pretty much dead, I been thinking for you to be more serious with your clothes, more fashion. That means actually speaking to people in high places, if I take you under my wing, Fenty Brown can be a thing. Welcome to my world that you may dislike but I was thinking” I don’t want him to think he is trapped now “you really thinking that? I am actually happy about that” I grinned at him “you know I got you, but like it’s a different game on what I deal with” I hope he is ready for that.

I keep telling Royalty to not say a word, we are back in Cali now and outside her home “dad, wait a minute” she said turning to me, stopping us walking to the home “before we go inside, I am super excited about what happened and I can’t wait to have more time with her now I will not say it again!” I chuckled, this all she keeps doing. Telling me how happy she is about meeting Rihanna, also that she is her step mother “if you snitch on me then you won’t ever see her or I won’t be able to see you” I am trying to scare her “I won’t! Promise” nodding my head believing her, I don’t think Royalty will because she wants to Rihanna again so she will keep quiet. Royalty ran off to her house and Nia opened the door “my big baby! Oh my god, I missed her” Nia said hugging her “same mom!” I stopped watching them both embrace, Nia missed her a lot “this tan, oh wow. Look at you, mommy miss you” Roro has got a good tan on herself, playing out in the sun “she is so happy, it is nice to see all the smiles. You honestly proved that you could have her, she is so happy” Nia said to me “yeah well I have grown, you know how it is. One point in your life you need too, I may be going back to court. So I can have my own daughter, no offence to you. I am doing it at my mom, but we good. We had good time, lots of talking but I am tired right now so I will be gone. See you soon little momma” smiling at Royalty, I know she won’t say anything.

I am not sure if I feel happy or sad to be back home, I mean this is my home, but I feel like it ain’t my home at the same time. I mean my stuff is still here, nothing has happened badly but what is it like inside my home. Pushing the door open, it’s loud in here which I have grown accustomed to not hearing such noise, I am used to the peace I have been living with Robyn. Walking through to the living area “oh shit, look at this nigga. He is back with the darkest tan!” Krista was the first to say and to clock me here, I am not even the slightest bit happy to be back. Just seeing the tired ass regime they got, pussy and drugs in my home. The room has become quiet but they just don’t know what to say, they know I am back but not the same person.

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