#a week and 4k+ words later and its finally done

[abiiors]

chocolate // ross macdonald x reader

valentine's week - day 2: love potion

a/n: this is about abiior ross specifically hehe (short hair, shot beard etc) cw: use of aphrodisiacs against their knowledge (lets suspend our belief there), masturbation (f), implied voyeurism, unprotected sex oops (they're too horny to think it through) wc: 4k

sweet taste of chocolate dissolves on your tongue as elena continues to recount her latest holiday to belgium. she has that “just back from holiday” tan on her and you laugh along to her stories, popping another square of chocolate in your mouth while sorting through the pile of gifts she’s brought for everyone. 

a heap of chocolate wrappers sits between the two of you and you’re certain you have enough sugar in you to feed a small village—still, the sweetness lingers on your tongue and makes you sigh wistfully every time you think about it. 

“i’m seeing ross later,” you slip in quietly when she takes a breath between her rambling and elena’s eyes go round. 

“seeing him seeing him? you finally asked him out?”

your head hangs in shame at the question and you can’t help the wince that leaves you. elena tsks. “oh babe, come on! he’s such a sweet guy and he clearly likes you back.”

“you don’t know that!”

several seconds pass and elena arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. she’s right, you know she’s right. you’ve had this silly, desparate crush for six months now and you should have done the mature adult thing of asking him out. but your heart races every time he’s near and every single word in your head disappears along with all sane and rational thoughts. 

“well,” you shrug, “can i take some chocolate for him? he’s got a sweet tooth.”

elena smirks and flicks your hand away before you can reach for one. 

“only if you promise to ask him out. a coffee date. that’s as casual as it gets!”

you blanch at her but she stands her ground forcing you to at least mull it over in your head. 

once again, she is right. you can ask him out for a coffee and pretend it’s just a friendly little thing if the vibes seem purely platonic. you’ll figure it out. you know you will. 

scrunching your eyes shut, you give in. “fine… fine, i’ll do it.”

elena squeals, pulling you into a tight hug. you giggle at her excitement but let the butterflies take flight in your stomach. once she lets go, she points behind her. 

“the fridge has a better selection. go take as many as you want.”

you’re out of the chair and halfway to the kitchen before she’s even done speaking, big goofy grin on your face at the thought of meeting him later and teasing him when he inhales the chocolates faster than humanly possible. 

the fridge is messy as usual—half empty bottles of milk, some past their expiry date, opened bags of cheese and old chinese takeout. you ignore all of it and dig your way to the back to find the rest of them (in elena’s little hidden space in the fridge to keep it away from her boyfriend). 

most of them are the usual ones and you take a few to put it in your bag. a new one catches your eye—it’s just a simple black square with a golden heart embossed on the cover, not one you’ve tried yet and it instantly piques your interest so you take two of them and put the bag back in its place. 

then you close the fridge and make your way back to the living room.

the backstage at the band’s practice show is chaos incarnate. everyone’s in a rush to set up things in their proper place. the props are strewn on the stage, waiting for their permanent place, the instruments are neatly arranged in a corner and ross is leaning against the wall, cigarette in one hand, phone in the other. his thumb scrolls on his screen. a second later, he snorts, types something on his phone and you feel yours buzzing in your pocket with an incoming text. 

it makes your silly heart skip a beat. 

his head snaps up when you clear your throat. a warm smile spreads across his face, and he quickly stubs out his cigarette, tossing it into a nearby bin. 

“didn't expect to see you here so bright and early," he says, pushing off the wall to approach you. at his full height, ross is nearly a head taller. on top of that, he’s been working out and staying fit, his beard’s sparser than it was before, his hair neatly cut and gelled back perfectly. 

ross looks devastatingly handsome, a proper rockstar. you look like… you. 

“wanted to see you–uh, see what you were getting up to,” you hope the breathlessness stays out of your voice, you hope he hasn’t noticed you blatantly checking him out. 

all that goes flying out the window the moment he gathers you into a hug. his body is warm and solid, his t-shirt soft and familiar. the scent of his aftershave surrounds you thoroughly, invades all your senses until you just debate throwing all caution to the wind and jumping him right here. 

the hug lasts longer than you would have expected. 

when he pulls back there’s a faint flush on his cheeks (probably the heating, you rationalise) and a wide grin on his face. 

“are you excited?”

“to watch you play? always!”

you cringe at how eager it sounds, how desperate. fortunately, ross giggles and offers you his arm. 

“come on, let me give you a tour.”

twenty minutes later, you’re back where you started, arm in arm and excited about the concept of the new show, about their new setlist and the live debuts of some new tracks. ross is already beaming with excitement and his eyes crinkle in they way they do only when he’s genuinely happy. it’s infectious. more often than not you find yourself staring at him and giving him a loopy smile. 

utterly fucking love-sick. 

“jamie’s gone all out too,” he continues. “there’s a whole dressing arena for us even though this isn’t a real show. we wanted to try out a couple styles i guess.”

“oh, you’re a fashion icon now?” you tease and he rolls his eyes fondly. 

“let me show you what patti’s got for us,” he offers and once again, you take his arm and follow him to some corner of the arena.

the dressing room is pretty much what you’d expected—a room full of mirrors and closet doors. there’s a sofa in the corner and bottles of water on the table. clothes are scattered across chairs and hanging on racks, each outfit carefully selected for the show, each outfit a statement aesthetic for every member on stage. 

and that’s pretty much it.

you plop onto the sofa. moments later ross does the same, slinging an arm around your shoulder that’s almost-a-cuddle-but-not-really. you desperately pray he can’t hear your hammering heart that’s almost in your throat now. he’s so cool and casual, so comfortable in the silence. you on the other hand, desperately feel the need to fill it. 

“elena’s back from her holiday. stole some chocolates from her stache for you.” 

his playful grin returns and ross straightens eagerly. “you really are a sweetheart.”

the word does funny things to your insides, almost like there’s an entire flock of birds going haywire in there until his hands comes to rest on your knee and every thought in your head goes quiet. 

“go on then, show us what you got.” 

one by one you pull them out—bonbons and candy and silly little heart-shaped sweets that were everywhere in preparation for valentine’s day. his face lights up like a kid at christmas, he unravels the nearest sweet, moaning at its sweetness dissolving on his tongue just like you had. 

you stare at him unabashedly. 

“i got this too,” you pull out the two black squares, handing him one. “dunno what they are but they looked fancy enough. i haven’t tried them yet though.”

together, you unwrap them and look at the dark square inside. they look nothing special, they smell like regular dark chocolate too. perhaps they’re a little richer than the ones before, slightly better but he shrugs and moves on to the next bonbon. 

you do the same.

if the arena was chaotic before, it’s damn near cocophonous now. somewhere, someone’s yelling for all the instruments to be moved. jamie and matty are in a heated discussion with a few other creative consultants. adam has his headphones in and he’s plucking something on the guitar. george is nowhere to be seen and ross is on stage making sure his bass is tuned just the way he wants it. 

you take the moment to stare at him while he’s busy. a stubborn strand of hair escapes onto his forehead, falling into his eyes while he focuses on the bass in his hands. his mouth is parted in concentration, eyebrows scrunched together with an adorable little crease in between. 

a quick thought flashes in your brain—what would it be like to walk up to him and straddle him right now? to set his bass aside and demand his attention in a way you’ve never even imagined before. to kiss away his frown until everyone and everything in the room fades away into the background. 

the butterflies in your stomach come back with a vengeance. ross shifts in his seat. 

“will you settle a debate for us, love?” matty’s voice startles you enough that you almost stumble back but he’s already passionately begun explaining the dilemma. 

you try to focus on him, you really do. usually, it’s fun to give your input on things, fun to listen to his everchanging and eccentric ideas as he tries to explain his vision in a cohesive way. but your attention can’t stop drifting to the man on stage. 

your eyes can’t seem to move away from his fingers as they pick string after string. 

heat simmers under your skin at the sight of them. interestingly enough, ross fidgets with the collar of his t-shirt and wipes a few beads of sweat off his forehead. 

“are you… listening?” matty snaps his fingers, his face contorted in a puzzled look while jamie looks on impatiently. 

“sorry, i—”

before you have the chance to finish again, they’re back at each other’s throats, bickering like an old married couple. you don’t even notice when they walk away and their voices peter out. you keep your eyes trained on ross and the hollow of his throat and his hands. subconsciously, you clench your thighs together.

what the fuck is wrong with you.

this isn’t the time or place to be horny. and yet the more strings he plucks, they more it reverberates through your entire body and makes your head spin with lust and heat. this is getting out of control and you cannot fucking figure out the reason behind it. 

hurriedly, you make your way back to the dressing room. it’s deserted by now—everyone including the band and the crew are by the stage. it’s your luck that the room isn’t locked, that not a single person seems to be in this part of the arena. 

you chest heaves as you slam the door shut, beelining to the sofa in a fucking daze. the chocolate wrappers from before sit innocently in the bin in the corner. you struggle with a bottle of water, gulping in down in hopes that it would cool you just a little. some of it spills down your top, the cotton sticks to your skin and the feel of it against your nipples feels overwhelming. electric, if you are being honest. 

curses spil from your lips as you throw yourself on the sofa, on the left side of it, where ross had sat before. your mind conjures up the scent of his aftershave again, the feel of his hand on your knee, and you imagine it trailing up—fingers testing and taunting until they’re at the waistband of your jeans. until they’re dipping inside your underwear and swiping through your slick folds. 

your breath catches and your hand drifts to the crotch of your jeans. 

maybe if you could just take the edge off a bit. maybe if you could just do this and then never think of it again and then go back to to your day and never look ross in the eye ever again. your cunt pulses in rhythm with your heartbeat, which is already racing faster than it should be.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think of him then. his body hovering on top of yours, pressing down on top of you until he sinks into you so deep that you feel him in your gut. you think of his lips, fucking perfect and so out of your leage. you think of the calloused pad of his fingers tracing your lip, your cupid’s bow. 

against your better judgment, you sink further into the sofa, running your hands on your breasts, stomach, the insides of your thighs, all the while imagining how ross’ calloused fingers felt on your back and waist the countless times you'd hugged before. how they would feel in other places.

it’s fucking depraved but the thrill of it feels so sinfully good that you can’t stop your fingers from tracing circles over your clit—languid and loose.

your fingers feels too small, too soft. this isn’t what your body wants. it desperately craves him but he’s busy doing his actual job. your ears ring with the bloodrush and every touch against your skin feels like a zap of electricity passing through you. 

one hand buried deep between your legs and the other kneading and massaging your nipples, you are on cloud nine. once or twice, you bite your lip to keep the moans down but what’s the point? the solid concrete walls would keep all the sounds inside anyway. 

your pants fill the room, sweat gathers on your forehead and you feel it drawing closer, some semblance of a release at least. through the haze you see ross standing by the door, still as a statue, his mouth slightly open.

“ross…” you moan softly, willing this hallucination to come closer, to replace your hands with his, and finish what you started, but he doesn’t move.

a second passed by and then another, and then as if you’ve been doused with cold water, your entire body goes numb and cold.

he’s here. he’s not a hallucination or a figment of your lust-filled imagination, he is really. fucking. here.

you go cold and then hot again, sure that your entire face—hell, your entire body—has gone beetroot red. helplessly, you scramble to get your hands away from you, as if that would salvage anything at this point. as if that would wipe his memory of the last five minutes. 

how did he even get here without you hearing so much as a creak? and you’d just moaned his name for fuck’s sake. the blood drains from your face, your heart stutters—this time for all the wrong reasons. 

‘ross…’ your voice sounds all high-pitched and thin. all wrong and panicked.

ross only stalks toward you, deliberately slow and graceful, and stops a few inches away from the sofa. too far, the pervy part of your brain chimes in, he’s still standing a bit too far away. his eyes look dark and stormy, his face utterly fucking calm.

you try to suppress the tremor in your limbs, try to look anywhere but at him. (ideally, you try to look for something sharp to stab yourself with) and it’s then that your body betrays your entirely. slowly, as if against your will, your eyes slide down his body and linger on the bulge in his trousers. hard and prominent and fucking big enough to make you salivate despite the current situation.

“what are you doing here?” the words comes out as a weak whisper. 

“watching you.”

his voice sounds deep and husky, with a dangerous edge to it. his eyes roam all over your body, or whatever’s visible of it—over your stomach and a sliver of underboob—and heat, more intense than you felt just minutes before, floods your entire body. 

and yet, you still can’t look him in the eye. 

“you are fucking stunning,” he breathes.

the words make your brain short-circuit. hastily, you try to cover your face, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole and spit you out into some parallel universe where ross just doesn’t exist anymore. 

“oh, baby,” he tuts, moving closer until you’re face-to-face, and even now it isn’t enough. inspite of your humiliation, you want him closer, on top of you, and under your skin, and inside you, pounding into you until you are dumb and drooling.

he hooks a finger under your chin, tilting it up so that you have no choice but to look him in the eye. your mouth goes dry at the sight of them. his pupils are dilated to the point where his hazel eyes are almost completely black.

“don’t–don’t hide from me… you have no idea how long, i…” the rest of it dies on his lips when you whimper. your body feels liquid, blood flowing through your veins like molten lava, searing every inch of skin that’s begging for his touch. 

“so touch me then,” the voice that comes out of you is pathetic, needy, but you can’t care less right now. if you had to stay in this state of limbo anymore the flimsy little thread holding the last of your sanity together would snap.

agonisingly slow, he pulls his t-shirt over his head. his chest gleams with sweat, tattoos starkly visible against his pale skin and you want to trace each and every one of them with your tongue, memorise all the grooves of his body with your fingers, fill up his scent into your lungs until it’s all you can smell. 

just in his trousers now, he settles over you, knee pressed between your wide-open legs, brushing against your clothed clit. you hiss at the barest of touches. ross looking down at you is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, enough that you moan his name again. and again when he kisses you, softly at first and then harder, urgent and feverish. 

his hands toy with the hem of your top and you nod fervently, eager to be rid of it. his tongue traces every inch of your mouth. 

“just how i imagined you would taste,” he breathes in between kisses, and the words spear through the haze in your brain, burrowing themselves deep in there.

“you thought about how i’d taste?” 

tenderly, he kisses your jaw, peppers a few more kisses on your cheek. “every moment of these last few months.”

you say something unintelligible, dumbstruck by how fucking sweet he sounds in the middle of everything. his hand trails up and down your spine, raising goosebumps in their wake, while his mouth continues to kiss your jaw, your neck, your cleavage. all you can do is tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him as close as you possibly can. unable to take it any longer, you fumble with the buckle of his belt, undoing the button and unzipping his trousers till you can palm him through his boxers. in spite of them still covering him, you moan at how big he feels, how deliciously thick and hard.

something in him snaps at the sound. it’s as if he’d been holding back until now, but now he grabs the hem of your top and slips it clean off you. his discarded trousers join the small heap on the floor and he takes one of your nipples in his mouth while pinching the other between his fingers.

“i need you inside me. please ross…”

“ride me,” he says instantly and you nod, flipping until he’s on the sofa and you’re on his lap, fumbling to get out of your jeans and underwear while he pulls his boxers down. 

with one hand around your waist, ross lifts you up until his tip’s grazing your cunt. “go on darling, you can take me,” his voice trembles with barely controlled restraint. and you might as well be his puppet because you obey instantly, sinking onto him until he’s deep inside you, until you feel the delicious stretch and burn.

your gasp makes him groan. 

his fingers grip your face gently, moving it to make you look at the giant mirrors next to you, at your bodies locked together. 

“look at you…” he moans and thrusts up into you. you mewl at the suddenness of it, but it’s impossible to look away from the image in the mirror. you bouncing on his cock, rutting and moving your hips, shamelessly chasing ecstasy. his face slack with pleasure, his eyes roaming all over your body, taking in every inch of it while you take in every inch of him. 

his thrusts are slow in the beginning, punishing almost and you try to increase the pace, digging your nails into his shoulders, until he’s smiling smugly at all the desperately written so clearly all over your face. 

“faster,” you almost beg and he obliges instantly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. his fingers work at your clit again; pinching and rubbing, until you can no longer look at the mirror, can’t look at anything as your eyes roll back into your head and stars wink on the insides of your lids. 

filthy words fill the room mixed with groans and moans from both of you. it almost feels like a trance—to feel him so deep inside you that your head buzzes, pleasure coild in your belly and you squirm and writhe, trying to feel more of him, greedy and insatiable. 

heat builds in your stomach, the feeling from before starts at the base of your spine again, travelling up until it’s spreading throughout your body, to your fingertips. from the way ross’ thrusts turn wild and erratic, you know he’s close too. 

“you feel so good, so–so fucking perfect,” you tell him, trying to get the words out in between moans and gasps. 

“oh baby,” he coos, “we are fucking perfect together, aren’t we.”

frantically, you nod, capturing his mouth in another feverish hot kiss. “yes, yes.”

because that’s what you’ve been dying to hear for months now, dying to know that he felt the same want and yearning you did. 

when the orgasm finally hits, you almost black out, eyes rolling to the back of your head. your loud moans fill the room, overshadowing any sounds he makes, but you’re too far gone to care. the sound undoes him within moments and ross thrusts hard into you, cumming with a loud groan. you feel the cum spilling in you and running down your thighs, sticky and wet. 

vaguely, you’re aware if slumping forward and pressing your face into his chest. ross strokes your hair softly until you can get your breathing back to normal. 

you giggle in his chest when the conversation with elena springs back into your mind. it feels so far away now, like it happened days ago instead of hours ago. 

“what?” ross asks, sounding a bit amused. 

“i was supposed to ask you out for coffee. elena dared me, in exchange for the chocolate.”

he giggles at your answer, pressing a quick kiss on your head, which instantly makes your heart melt. 

“those chocolates were… something.”

you snort. that’s one way to put it. finally, you pull away, looking at him properly for the first time. his face is flushed and coated in sweat but he looks… happy. more than you’ve seen him before. 

“so… coffee?” you bite your lip, irrationally shy now of all times. 

ross kisses you in response, sweet and slow, a proper chaste kiss as if you’re not sat on his lap, still naked and dripping with his cum. but you kiss him back equally slow, giggling like a teenager. 

“like you have to ask.”

lemme know what you think <33

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[ssuperficialspacecadett]

Pollen and Plottin'

Chapter Five of the Through the Scope series | Chapter Six

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4K

Chapter Overview: You have a morning out of hell and all signs point to Frankie to bail you out.

Notes: I fucking knew i would be back this week LMAOOO,, finals next week and then i'll finally be free from the shackles of uni !! this gif was playing on repeat in my brain while i was writing and lorddd it made it so hard to concentrate,, i updated the tag list so i hope i added everyone that was kind enough to ask to be on it ((: as usual .. my asks are always open & happy reading <3

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You must have done something truly heinous in your past life to warrant this series of unfortunate events this Tuesday morning. The first issue makes itself known to you when your alarm doesn’t go off this morning. Your body must have known that you were getting a suspicious amount of sleep because thankfully it wakes you up with an hour to get ready. Issue number two comes in the form of empty bottles. You jump out of the shower in record breaking time. Body wrapped in a towel, skin still littered in water droplets, you scour your bathroom counter for your hair products. A frustrated sigh leaves you when you notice that your products are in the trash can. You knew that you should have left yourself a note to go pick up more the second you ran out. 

“Bright side. Bright side. There's always a bright side.” You repeat your new mantra down the hall to the kitchen.

As you wait for your coffee to brew, you try to change your way of thinking. Yes, you woke up late, but at least you had an hour to get ready. Yes, you didn’t have any hair products, but at least you got to shower. See? Not so bad looking now, huh? When the coffee is done you remove the pot from its stand and set it on your counter. You make your way to the fridge to pull out your creamer and then your cabinets to retrieve your favorite mug. Unfortunately, your depth perception is off because as you bring your mug and creamer to the counter you knock the coffee pot into the sink. It must have been right on the edge and you just didn’t realize it. Tears prick your eyes as you watch the third issue of the morning disappear down the drain. You don’t think there is a bright side to this problem. With time not acting as your friend, breakfast will have to take a backseat. Before you head out the door you grab your keys and your tote and pray that whatever higher power is fucking with you has had its fill. But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

You hop in your car and start it up. No. And start it up. Oh God no. Third time's the charm and…

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” You wail. 

The panic is setting in now. You can feel bile gurgling in your stomach and trying to claw its way up into your throat. This sort of thing usually wouldn’t bother you this much, but coupled with all the bullshit from this morning, you were at your wits end. Before anxiety completely envelops you, you pull out your phone to call Benny and explain the situation.

“Oh shit, are you alright?”

“Physically? Yes. Mentally? Ask me tomorrow.”

“At least your sense of humor is still intact,” He offers. “Don’t worry about coming in today. I had to learn how to hold it down before I hired you so I’m not worried about that. Just take today to figure out what’s wrong with your car and keep me posted. Maybe you can give Catfish a ring? He works at an auto body shop that shouldn’t be too far from you.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Benny. Yeah, he mentioned that. I’ll call him and then let you know what happens. Talk to you later!”

You toss your phone into your passenger seat and rest your head on your steering wheel. The panic you were feeling has subsided now due to a solution presenting itself, but nervousness began to blossom in its place when that solution turned out to be Frankie. The first time you called him isn’t supposed to be like this. You aren’t really sure how you wanted the first time to go, but you definitely wanted to have a better reason to talk than your fucked up car. A buzzing sound next to you announces the arrival of a text. You take a deep, centering breath and lift your head up before grabbing your phone. It’s Benny sending you the address of Frankie’s shop. You click the link and it takes you to your phone's map. It really isn’t too far from you; only 10 minutes down the road. 

You pull up Frankie’s contact, but hesitate before you press it. A small twinge of guilt rolls through you as you surrender to the idea of calling another man for help with a job that has always been done by your father. The one thing he loved more than looking at cars was fixing them up. He had made you watch him work all through your childhood, so you knew how to change your tire, your oil, and both your head and tail lights. This felt like a betrayal when, in reality, it wasn’t. There wasn’t anything he could do in his current situation to help you. And telling him what was going on would only hurt him as he would inevitably come to the same conclusion you did. With your guilt temporarily satiated, you call Frankie. 

He must have been concerned when he saw that it was you calling because he answers on the second ring and his voice is higher pitched than normal. “Hello?”

“Hey, Frankie it's me. Well obviously you know it's me. I’m sure you have caller ID. I’m sorry, I’m rambling, but I think I need to cash in on that car help you offered earlier.” 

“Are you safe? What happened?” His tone is panicky.

“Yes. I’m completely safe.” You hear him sigh quietly on the other end of the phone. “My car just won’t start and I can’t figure out what's wrong with it. I didn’t leave any lights on last night, my gas tank is half full, and, for once in my life, my check engine light isn’t on.”

“I like your little run down, but it's going to be hard for me to figure out what's wrong with it until I actually see the vehicle in person. Tell you what, I’ll drive out to see you right now and have one of my guys bring out a tow truck to pick it up.”

“Wait no you don’t have to do that! I don’t want to make you leave work over something silly like this. I can just wait until the tow truck gets here and takes me to the shop.”

“And I don’t want you to have to deal with this alone, silly or not, got it?”

“Got it.” 

You’re sitting on the curb to the left of your car when you see Frankie pull into the parking lot with his white pickup. He waves at you through his windshield as he parks in the open spot to the right of your car. You figure that it's now or never and dust yourself off as you walk over to his driver's side. 

“So, are you going to be able to fix him?”

“Him?” He says skeptically, stepping out of his truck. 

“My car? He’s a boy?”

“You know most people refer to vehicles as women, but you know what, to each their own.” He looks over the hood of his truck at your car. “My apologies sir. I’ll do everything in my power to get you up and running again.”

Frankie has you pop your hood while he goes back and pops his own and grabs jumper cables from the backseat. Although you offer to help him, he insists that you relax while does it himself. The way he says it makes you feel cared for rather than pushed to the side because he doesn’t believe that you’re capable. He is able to jumpstart your car, but each time the engine dies after idling for a few minutes. When he realizes that no matter how many times he tries to jump it the engine won’t stay on he unhooks the cables and puts them away. 

“See anything?”

He’s taking a closer look at everything that's under your hood. The gray shirt he's wearing is doing a beautiful job of showing off how defined his arms really are. The cotton material stretches over his bicep as he moves his arm to reach something. It dawns on you that he rarely wears shirts, or clothes in general, that allow his body to be visible. Your heart aches when you think about him feeling insecure as he stands next to the other men. Even though you haven’t seen them without their clothes off, Benny excluded, you can tell how toned each of them are. You wish you could tell him that it doesn’t matter to you. You wish you could tell him that the way his stomach is currently peeking out from under his shirt is incredibly sexy to you. There’s nothing you would change about him because if you did there would be less of him for you to look at. 

“Everything looks good up here.” He sighs tiredly and shuts your hood. “The issue must be your undercarriage.”

“My what?”

“Your car’s undercarriage!” He couldn’t have spit those words out faster. “I’m sure there isn’t anything wrong w-with your undercarriage.” 

“Frankie, I’m just messing with you.” Your hand comes to rest on his arm as you laugh. “I knew what you meant.”

The Florida sun did a good job of blurring the line between him blushing and him standing out in the heat for too long. 

“Hey, do you want some water? It’s the least I could do since you’re helping me out so much.”

“It’s really no big deal.” He reassures you. “But water would be great.”

You turn and start heading to the staircase that leads to the second floor of your apartment complex. You make it up about three steps before you realize that Frankie isn’t following you. 

“I thought you wanted water?” You ask turning to face him.

“In your apartment?”

“Last I checked, that's where I keep it? Come on, Frankie, I’m not gonna bite you.”

With a small smile from him, you face back around and continue to make your way up the stairs. When you reach your door you suddenly become self conscious about the way your apartment is set up. You haven’t had the time to decorate since you got here and the lack of personal touches in your apartment made that painfully obvious. 

“Sorry my place is a little bland.” You open the door and lead him inside to the kitchen. “I want to get some art for my walls so the place can really be brought together. It’s a little dumb though since I’m only here temporarily.” 

“I don’t think it’s dumb, but I like the way it feels in here.”

“Oh yeah?” You pull the brita out of your fridge and set it down on the counter. “What does it feel like?” 

He sees you reaching out for the cabinet that's next to him. He turns around to open it and hands you two cups without missing a beat in the conversation. “It’s kinda hard to explain. Maybe the best word I can use to describe it is…homey? I know you said you wanted more things in here, but I don’t really think items make a place feel like a home.”

“That’s way existential, Frankie.” You look up at him while filling each of y’alls glasses. “But, that does mean a lot since you’re my first guest.”

“Fuck off, no I’m not.” He says grabbing his drink.

You nod in confirmation while you take a sip of your water.

“What about your dad?”

“I actually go visit him. He’s in a retirement home, his own choice, but he had a stroke a little less than a month ago. It was bad enough to have him start physical therapy so he could retrain the muscles in his legs.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Fortunately, he’s doing better. He’s a stubborn old bastard that's for sure.”

“That’s good,” He holds out his glass to you. “Cheers to your dad and cheers for me being your first house guest.”

As you clink your glasses together you realize how much better the place feels with Frankie’s presence. The walls don’t look as bare. The sink's constant drip isn’t as loud. And the sunlight shines a little brighter through your perpetually cloudy glass windows.

“The place isn’t all bland.” He motions to the vase full of white lilies sitting on your small kitchen table. “Those are nice.”

“They didn’t have my favorite ones at the store when I went a few days ago,” you say as you walk over to smell them. “But aren’t these just beautiful?”

“Yes. Absolutely beautiful.”

Soft brown eyes meet yours when you shift your body to face him again. You can’t help but feel flustered under his intoxicating gaze.

“What?” There was no sun to explain away the heat radiating off your cheeks now.

“You have some pollen on your nose.” He takes his finger and points to his own. “Just there.”

“Aw fuck.” You rub off your nose as quickly as you can. Embarrassment courses through your veins as Frankie stays quiet and simply watches you. “Did I get it all?”

Pink lips part into a smile as he shakes his head at you. “It might be easier if I get it for you. Is that okay?”

“Y-yes.”

He sets his cup down on the counter behind him and starts walking the few feet over to you. As he closes the gap between y'all, he rubs his hands down the sides of his jeans. He looks so much taller when he’s this close. You try to focus on controlling your breathing as he raises his hand and lets it hover over your nose. As soon as he brushes the skin, your eyes flutter close at the sensation. His calloused hands caress you so delicately that you feel as if you are made of the finest of china. You only open them when you feel his touch leave your body. He’s staring down at you with pupils blown out.

“Is it-is it all gone?” You don’t know why you're whispering when he's standing right in front of you. 

“You’re pollen free.” He whispers back.

Neither of you make a move to escape the close proximity. You watch his eyes slowly travel from your own eyes to your lip and back up again. You hope he can see by the way you’re looking at him that you’re begging for him to touch you, to kiss you. He takes a half step closer. His hand brushes against yours down at your side. 

Honk! Honk! Honk! 

Frankie closes his eyes like he's in agonizing pain and steps back from you. “I think your car’s ride is here.” 

“Well umm,” You clear your throat. “I guess we shouldn’t keep your coworker waiting, huh?”

***

“So we got some bad news and we got some good news. The bad news is that it looks like one of your cylinders misfired and it’s going to be out of commission until it can be fixed. The good news is that we are having a slow day today so it should be fixed by this afternoon.”

“I really wish you would have led with the good news.” 

“Where's the suspense in that?”

“Thank you again for helping me with this, Frankie.” The two of you exit the shop and stand in front of his truck. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Probably would have called some other loser who works in an auto body shop.” He shrugs.

“You’re not a loser.” You wrap your arms around your body. “At least not to me.” 

“I uhh-thank you for saying that.” 

You return his shrug with a soft smile. 

“Did you want me too-umm-drop you off at the gym?” He checks his watch. “You’ve only missed about an hour and a half of your day.”

“No, don’t worry about it. Benny said I could take the day when I talked to him about what was going on this morning. I’ll probably uber home and find something to occupy myself with until my car is ready.” 

Your stomach choses now to loudly make its presence known.

Frankie raises one of his eyebrows at you. “Have you eaten today?”

“I was planning on it, but then the universe decided that it wasn’t in the cards for me.”

“Want to go get breakfast? With me? I could eat.”

“As lovely as that sounds, I’ve already taken up so much of your time already! I don’t want to get you in trouble at work!”

“Oh, come on. Playing hooky isn’t fun when you do it by yourself. Plus, I’ve got some vacation time racked up that I can use for today

You knew your answer even before you spoke it. The opportunity to spend more time with him is one you would have to be crazy to pass up. It may not be a date, but it was a start. And everything has to start somewhere.

“Fine, but you’re driving.”

***

“Please tell me you didn’t call us here to help you close up, Benny.”

It was unusually quiet in the gym today. It wasn’t the lack of grunting from the weight lifters, or the obnoxious sounds coming from the washing machine, or even the chatter of patrons in between their boxing rounds. It was the lack of you. Benny thought that he could handle it just like before, but he was wrong. He found himself wandering up to the front desk to share each and every miniscule thought that popped into his head only to find it empty time and time again. You had completely enmeshed yourself into his daily routine and he didn’t notice until now. It seemed that even the guests noticed your absence. He found himself getting asked where you were or when you would be coming back. You did so much around the gym that he didn’t even realize and he cursed himself for taking you for granted. The next time you had car trouble he swore he would pick you up himself because he could do this alone. He couldn’t do this without his friend. But, that isn’t why he called them in.

“Yeah, what gives?” Pope adds to Will’s previous statement. “And where’s our girl?”

“Number one: no I didn’t call y’all to help me close. Number two: I gave her the day off because she was having car trouble and wouldn’t be able to make it in.” 

It takes him assuring his friends multiple times and showing them your update texts for them to stop worrying about you. 

“Alright that explains her, but where's Catfish?” Will presses.

Benny sighs deeply and walks around to sit in your empty chair. He closes his eyes and leans his head back before he answers his brother.

“He’s actually the reason why I called y’all over. I found out that he’s been talking to Rochelle again.”

“As much as we don’t fuckin’ like it, we knew that she texted him about getting back together.”

“You were there that night. This is old news.” Pope sounds annoyed, but Benny can’t track if it's aimed at him specifically or at the contents of the conversation.

“He’s been talking on the phone with her. I feel like thats a bit more serious than a fuckin’ text, Pope.”

Benny’s quick retort is enough to silence him, but Will starts panicking. An emotion that is just as foreign for him to feel as it is to see him display. 

“No fuckin’ way, man. No fuckin’ way he would do that.”

“That’s what I thought too, but she overheard him talking with Rochelle when she saw him out a few weeks back. Why would she lie about that? She had no knowledge of Rochelle before then.”

“Fuck! FUCK!”

Will fists his hands behind his head and starts pacing around the gym lobby. The two other men can only stare as they watch him slowly unravel before their eyes. Pope was, and still is, Frankie’s best friend, but Will was the most affected by what happened. It’s his job to scrape vets off the street when they come back after tours, legal or not, and get them the help they need. What kind of man, what kind of friend is he that he let one of his own slip through his fingers? When the metaphorical shoe finally dropped and Frankie got busted, as much as Will wanted to say ‘I told you so’, he just held his hand through recovery. The feeling of being right was only second to seeing his friend get better. It took every ounce of strength Will, Pope, and Benny had to drag Frankie back into reality. Now that he is teetering on the edge again, Will is terrified that he doesn’t have enough left in him to save Frankie. Pope cuts in to attempt to stop Benny from causing Will to have another Publix level freakout. 

“What exactly did she hear?”

“She just said that he got a phone call and he immediately tensed up when he saw who was calling. Then, when he answered, he said her name.”

“Let’s not lose our heads, boys.” Pope turns toward Will who is still pacing. “We don’t know the context of the phone call, alright? Rochelle was the one that called him, not the other way around.”

“Does it matter?! She like a fuckin’ drug to him!” 

“You’re not fucking helping, Benny.” Pope seethes. 

Will regains some control over his emotions and pilots himself over to the front desk.

“Pope is right. We don’t have all the facts yet.” He lets out a weighted sigh and white knuckles the edge of the desk. “Let’s just keep an eye on him and this situation until we know, for sure, what’s really goin’ on.”

The suffocating tension in the room is shattered when Benny’s phone chimes with a text. 

You: My car is as good as new! Frankie and I even stopped to get some new air freshener scents for you to test out for the gym! See you tomorrow (:

“Ho-ly shit.” Benny lets out a low whistle.

“What?” The two other men speak in unison.

Benny just laughs to himself as he tosses Will the phone. 

“Well would you look at that?” Will echoes his brother's tune.

“Let me see that, huh?” Pope snatches the phone and reads the message you sent. “So that's why that pendejo hasn’t been answering my texts all damn day. He’s with her!”

“That sneaky bastard!” Benny laughs. “Yall think he likes her? He’s got to, right?”

“You really should get someone else to fill in for you at the fights every now and then.” Will snickers, all tension gone from his body. “Of course he likes her. He told us last Friday.” 

“I miss everything! Why didn’t anyone tell me?” He complains.

“Nevermind that.” Pope says as he returns the phone. “She might be the solution to our problem.” 

How’d you reckon?” Will inquires. 

“If we can get them together, there won’t be any room for Rochelle.” 

“We aren’t pimpin’ her out, Pope. That’s fucked up.”

“No, no.” He shakes his head. “We aren’t pimping her out, dumbass. Not if she likes him back that is. I mean, come on, you saw the way she was looking at him when they shared that beer the other night.”

“They shared a beer?!”

“Not now, Benny.” Will hushes. “Damn straight I saw that.”

Pope turns to Benny who still looks in shock because of what he just learned. 

“Can you do us a favor?”

“Anything if it means getting Rochelle out of the picture. Again.”

“Good man. Now we need you to keep your ears open for anything she says about Fish. We need to know where she stands before we do this and you’re the one that sees her everyday.”

“Hell yeah! I’m gonna be all over her!”

“Don’t be weird, Ben.” Will groan.

“Then it’s settled. When we figure out if she likes him or not…operation ‘catch-a-fish’ is a go.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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[thedo0zyslider]

I Love You (I'm Not Supposed Too) - Chapter Six: Secrets Kept No More - 4k Words

Fwhip finally finds out what Jimmy wanted to say all those months ago.

A03 Link

The next few days in the Ocean Empire were pretty routine. And boring. Every day is almost the same, save for a few moments when he and Jimmy would either sneak away together, or they got too tired of each other's presence and retreated to their chambers for a few hours. Other than that, they would wake up, and head to the Cod Empire to do whatever needed done. Helping a whole group of people properly establish themselves was a lot of work, work Fwhip hadn’t signed up for. But he helped anyways, because there was nothing else to do, not really.

The work was pretty standard, all things considered. They helped people get back on their feet, did boring government stuff Fwhip always zoned out on, like he did at home, built things, helped with the farms, and sometimes they were even put on babysitting duty. Though the half dragon wasn’t very trusted in that department for a few obvious reasons. Mainly the bigotry and his usual impulsiveness, but he didn’t mind. Fwhip was never a big fan of kids anyways. And then, at the end of the day, when the little tasks were done, they headed back to the Prisma Palace for dinner and whatever the Ocean Queen wanted them to do. If she wanted anything.

The half dragon is given a guest room, one with a giant, plush bed and a lot of decor on the wall. Merfolk liked to line their homes with shell and other such trinkets, as he’d come to notice, and the guest rooms were no exception. Just like the rest of the palace, his room was also very pink and blue and white. Fwhip thinks he could go his whole life without seeing this color palette ever again, and be perfectly content.

One morning, maybe a week or so into the trip, the future Count awakens earlier than normal. He doesn’t know why, but he does know the sun is streaming through his room’s window; meaning he should get out of bed pretty soon. He has a feeling the queen doesn’t take lightly to oversleepers, even if he had helped carry loads of stone and wood and whatnot around the swamp all yesterday and probably needed the extra rest. But whatever, her house, her rules, the ginger supposed.

He dresses in his normal attire, minus the black coat. He hates taking it off, but less layers means he won’t get as sweaty. Especially since he does manual labor most of the day, or a lot of walking. Fwhip was used to extreme heat in the forge, not the humidity of a swamp in the summertime. Also, it’s just less fabric to get all muddy and gross. His poor boots though will need to be deep cleaned when he’s home, all the shoes he brought with him will. It feels like there’s water permanently in the leather nowadays, even when there’s not.

But that’s not the focus right now. The focus is getting ready and then getting breakfast. Ocean cuisine was a little….unusual for his tastes, but he did like a few of the dishes. Disturbing meals including both salmon and cod aside. Thankfully those weren’t usually served at breakfast, so he could avoid them until dinner or lunch time most days. Usually .

Fwhip steps out of his door a few minutes later, right after he finishes his morning routine…..and realizes he doesn't have a clue where the dining hall would be in this gigantic place. He ate there for dinner the previous night, but this place is so huge compared to the Manor. He has no idea how to even get back there, despite having a small tour when he arrived. Also, it would feel very awkward walking in without Jimmy.

He mumbles something to himself, grumpy from another bad night of sleep. It was hard to get any rest with waves constantly roaring all night long. His sleep deprivation, which was worse than normal, was probably making the whole trip more unpleasant than it actually was. The Ocean and its Empire were quite pretty, one had to admit, and the half dragon was sure he’d enjoy it more if it would let him sleep .

The ginger walks down to Jimmy’s room as he grumbles, the only place in the Palace he’s somewhat sure of the location of. That and his guest room. Mostly because they are in close proximity to each other, likely done on purpose, and because they’re the two most important rooms he passes every evening. He thinks he’s figured out where the library (the above water one) is though. He thinks.

He finds the Prince’s room, with less struggle than he had a few days ago. Fwhip only turned the wrong corner a few times! Yesterday he’d done that like, six or seven, so, progress! And while he’s never really…..knocked on Jimmy’s door, he knows the other is awake around this time. The cod had woken him up from a restless sleep far too often, enough that was decently familiar with the others' general sleep shedulce. Visiting him real quick would be fine , especially if he got breakfast at the end of it.

Fwhip opens the door, and he really, really should've knocked. He opens the door to a shirtless Jimmy, presumably in the middle of changing, and it takes the half dragon a good minute of shocked staring to realize that a binder is covering his chest. Jimmy whips his head around to face him, some kind of fear clearly in his gaze. The future Count kinda wants to punch himself for being so stupid.

Once he has that realization, the half dragon feels himself start to fumble out of embarrassment. “Oh, shit , sorry —I didn’t know you were-" He stumbles over his words, feeling a blush start to creep up his face. He politely keeps his gaze on the floor, his hand searching for the doorknob once again. The young prince is not having any of this, and the half dragon can’t really blame him.

“Just leave, okay!?” The cod snaps at him, and Fwhip listens to this guy for what has to be one of the first times ever. He ducks his head back out as soon as he finds the knob again, closing the door behind him with a rather loud slam. Silently, he slides down against the nearest wall, and resists the urge to scream into his own hands. That had been mortifying for him, making that big of a mistake. He can’t even imagine how Jimmy must feel right now, being seen like that. Being seen in what has to be some kind of vulnerable moment, by someone he certainly doesn’t want to be vulnerable with.

He sits there, slumped against the wall for a few minutes; hands running over his face and through his now messy hair. The future Count isn't really sure what to do after…. that . Mainly there are just a lot of things going through Fwhip's head as he sits there. He's pretty flustered, not ever intending to do that, and is sure a fierce blush is currently coating his face. Part of him knows it might be better that he leaves, because Jimmy will very understandably be scared to next confront him. The other part doesn't feel right just leaving. He feels like he needs to apologize. No, Fwhip wants to apologize. He feels bad, which certainly is a new emotion around the young cod.

The castle is still quiet, and it seems their little encounter hadn't disturbed anyone, thank god. Fwhip didn't want their screaming to accidentally out Jimmy to anyone else, for he had already heard some terms the staff used towards the prince. No servants have even begun moving towards the hall yet, and no footsteps can be heard in the distance. The Ocean Empire has rather quiet mornings, as opposed to the Grimlands rather loud and explosive ones. Which is good right now, he supposes. A quiet castle gives you more time to regain your bearings.

There is some shuffling by the door, and the doorknob starts to turn once again. Fwhip, still pretty stricken by the whole ordeal despite his best efforts, looks up in surprise. His suitor doesn't emerge instantly, taking his time to fully leave his bedroom. But when he does, the sight only makes the half dragon feel even more guilty.

Jimmy slowly shuffles out, his bedroom door being shut quietly behind him. Probably not to disturb anyone else in any nearby rooms, if there are any. He's finished changing, now wearing a green tunic. Not a skintight one like merfolk usually wore, but one that was clearly meant for a bigger person. One clearly meant to hide things, Fwhip would now notice. He suspects it isn’t the first time Jimmy has denied his species traditional attire in front of him, and probably won't be the last. The cod's face is red, his eyes puffy, and a weak frown painting his face. Fwhip feels a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of Jimmy crying because of him and his dumb mistake.

"Are you okay?" He asks, meeting the others' gaze tentatively. The future Count has no idea if the other is angry at him and, for once, wouldn't blame him if he was.

"I'm fine." Jimmy says, and it is clearly a lie. He's shaking, and leaning on the wall for support. Like he'll collapse and break down if he doesn't do so. It's not hard to believe that he will, either.

"You're shaking, and your eyes are red." Fwhip points out, scanning over the blonde's face. He's been crying his eyes out, that much is clear. So much so that if Lizzie were to walk by, she'd probably punch the future Count on the spot.

"Why do you care?" The cod asks, slumping down next to him. He's even surprised Jimmy wants to sit next to him after that, but he lets it happen anyway. They sit a few inches apart, not enough to touch, but not far enough to feel fully awkward. It's just enough space for the time being.

"Because I'm not stupid. I know what I just did." Fwhip says, feeling a frown stretching onto his face the longer this conversation goes on. He doesn't like the tone the other has, whatever it is. It's upsetting.

Jimmy forces a smile, and lets out a broken sounding laugh. “Well, didn’t want you to see my boobs. But you were gonna one day I guess, since the mar-”

“Don’t.” Fwhip cuts him off, running a hand over his face again. “Please don’t joke about….any of that stuff, okay? Not a good time.” It will come to concern Fwhip slightly, the kind of self hating jokes Jimmy makes about the marriage and himself. Because he'll make more in the future, and the half dragon will have to knock the habit out of him he supposes. “Also, not really our thing.”

“Sorry. Sorry. I know, bad joke. I’m just…a little upset.” The cod mumbles, hanging his head a bit. Not in shame, just lingering embarrassment. Fwhip feels a wrong sort of feeling settling in his stomach, and frowns. “And yeah…that’s not our thing.”

“I know….you’re probably upset.” He says, wholly sincere with Jimmy. Probably for like, the second time ever if he’s being honest. Because he would hate himself if he was anything but sincere under today’s circumstances. They were far too serious for his usual attitude. "Sorry about walking in without knocking or anything…I won’t do it again."

Jimmy takes a moment to respond, the back of his head hitting the wall with a dull thunking sound. "It's fine, really. You were gonna find out eventually. Probably. I just wanted it to be under…different circumstances is all."

Fwhip hums, and wraps his tail around his legs. It had been awkwardly laying on the floor before now, and it was…..strangely comforting to wrap it around himself. Even though he wasn't the one who needed comfort right now. "Sorry about that too."

"Not the worst thing in the world." Jimmy hums, watching his movement. He seems like he's zoning out a little bit, his mind wandering elsewhere. To other things and other trains of thoughts, more troubling ones probably.

"I kinda already knew. Thought I should mention that." Fwhip hums, glancing away to stare at the wall. He doesn't want to see Jimmy’s face when he responds, whatever that response may be.

"Oh?" Is all the cod responds with. He sounds…curious, and only that. Thankfully. Fwhip didn't know if the other would've been angered by that or whatever.

He glances back at Jimmy when he explains it, and is met with a look of slight curiosity. Which is fair, to Jimmy’s credit, he passes very well. Fwhip is just very good at noticing details. “When they told us about the marriage, our parents called you a princess and stuff. And the staff have been too. I just didn't want to assume anything, y'know?"

"Yeah, my mom's probably the reason for that. I didn't take them for… that type of person." The blonde nods, taking the others' explanation into consideration for a moment. The ginger would pay so much money to know what's running through his head right now.

"No, they're not like that." Fwhip confirms, briefly thinking back on his parents. Despite whatever way they might have failed him and his sister before, they had always been nothing but supportive of their children's identities. One of the few good qualities they both shared, if they shared any at all. "I could mention it to them….?"

The offer is said tentatively, but Jimmy looks so incredibly relieved at hearing it. "Please." He says, and Fwhip nods. He cannot help but wonder what hell this boy has been living through for so long, to be so relieved when even the most basic decency is shown to him.

“Sorry about how we left things, when you were forgotten at the manor. By the way.” The half dragon adds, somehow remembering to say sorry for that. Take that , memory issues. “I was just….I was starting to guess and didn’t know how to ask you.”

“It’s okay..” Jimmy says, trying to crack a smile. It's weaker than he would probably like it to be, but it's a start. Fwhip grins back, and neither of them have anything more to say. Not immediately, at least.

“You don’t…have a problem with it do you?” Jimmy nearly whispers the question into the silence. They've been sitting in quiet for a few minutes, and Fwhip had grown content to stare at the Palace's prismarine walls until one of them decided to move again.

Fwhip tilts his head to the side curiously, a little scared of what the other is about to ask. “With what?”

“With me being….with me having girl stuff. And you having to marry that. ” Jimmy spits out some of the words with such venom, that Fwhip is shocked by it. He feels a surprising wave of pity wash over him, for this boy he hates so much, and it's the first time ever he has to stop himself from hugging the young cod.

“No, I don’t. Why the hell would I?” He says, like it is the easiest thing to say. Because it is. To the blonde it's something he never expected to hear.

“Oh…” Jimmy sounds…..so genuinely surprised at his answer. “It’s just…some people would. Some people do. ”

“Those people suck.” His answer is spit out in an instance, full of more passion than he thought was possible. Those people do suck. They suck a lot .

“Yeah.” Jimmy agrees meekly, hesitantly slumping down and resting his head on the half dragon's shoulder. Fwhip lets him do so, not caring that a merfolk is touching him right now. He needs it a lot right now, he figures.

They sit in the silence for a few seconds once more, in the white and blue hallway of the Prisma Palace. Two people who should, and do, hate each other, but aren't really acting like it. They haven't had the energy to act like it for a while, Fwhip thinks, with how shit everything is. How the world constantly throws terrible things at the both of them and expects the boys to just cope . That's what it feels like, anyways.

Maybe it'll be better when they're older.

"You do know you're not the only one of us who's like that, don't you?" Fwhip mumbles, his cheek now resting against the blonde's head. He doesn't know how long they've been in the hallway, but the palace hasn't started its normal routine yet. So he guesses it can't have been too long. Maybe one of the maids or cooks will find them, and ask why in the bloody hell two royals are sitting in a dirty hallway, cuddling.

Jimmy gets a little excited, as told by his tail smacking the wall a few times before he realizes it's moving. "No…?"

"Well, Xornorth’s nonbinary, and Sausage is pretty gender nonconforming.” Fwhip says, trying to remember everyone who's come out so far. He doesn't know all their labels, if some people have any, but he tries his best to get them right. “And Shrub isn't entirely a girl."

"Oh…I didn't know that." Jimmy hums, sounding happier than he had before. The half dragon briefly wonders if, when the thirteen of them are together again, that a labels debrief would make some people feel more included.

"None of us are straight either, I don’t think." Fwhip might’ve not been up to date on all the labels, but he was pretty sure of that fact. That their whole group were all horribly not straight in some way, some more obviously than others.

Jimmy lets out an amused snort at that. "Of course." That's the right phrase for it really, of course . Of course all the royal children are queer as hell. Of course most of their parents suck too. How else would it be with their little group?

"Why're you being so nice to me over this?" The cod adds on after a moment, cautious, and has every right to be so.

Fwhip resists the urge to roll his eyes, and spits out the honest truth. He really wonders if Jimmy thought that lowly of him before, say, maybe twenty to thirty minutes ago. The half dragon wouldn’t be surprised if he did, not after everything. "I don't like you and I think you're annoying as hell, but I'm not cruel ."

"Thanks for that, I guess." Jimmy mumbles, sounding shocked and surprised again. Fwhip hears that tone, he’s heard it too many times today, and truly starts to wish the world would be kinder to this poor fishboy. Sans himself and his very justified hatred, of course.

"Don't thank me for treating you like a human being." The half dragon snorts, and fixes Jimmy with a look . He’s pretty sure the meaning of it goes right over the blonde’s head, too. The utter idiot “And we have that truce, remember? No being assholes ‘till we’re hitched?”

“Yeah…the truce. Almost forgot about that.” Jimmy mumbles, sounding a little thoughtful once again. Maybe he’s been full of thoughts this whole time, and Fwhip’s just shit at noticing. Or he’s running out of words to describe the cod, because they have never interacted like this before. He has a very limited vocabulary when it comes to describing Jimmy. Today he is running out of words he hasn’t used, and also adding new ones. “We’re not good at following it, are we?” Jimmy keeps talking, and Fwhip barely hears him, lost in his own thoughts it seems. He hated how easy that was to do.

(Adding new ones like sad , and mistreated , and stressed , and traumatized and a whole bunch of other words he has no more room for in the half dragon’s never ending whirlwind of a mind.)

“No, but I like to think we’ve gotten better.” He mumbles out a response, taking a few precious seconds to clear his head. They’ve certainly gotten better, or at least more tolerable of each other’s presence, because Fwhip isn’t pinning Jimmy into a wall and holding him hard enough to bruise anymore. They had to have gotten better, because his mental health hasn’t. Both of their have probably gotten worse over the years, actually.

“We have to be. Because they’re all buying it. Every single one of them.” Jimmy says, and it’s the most confident he’s sounded in a while, and will sound all day. He also sounds more than a little scared, and Fwhip can’t help but share the sentiment a bit.

“Good. Good.” He mumbles, and doesn’t want to admit that he feels some of the same fear. They are going along with this whole thing out of fear, it’s the whole reason why they’re even sitting here in the first place. Fear of judgment, of failure of duty, of disappointment. Of what their parents would say. Even if they don’t really talk about it, both of them know that’s what’s happening. Body language always says a lot more than both the boys wish it would.

Jimmy changes the topic back to their earlier, less daunting one. It seems a lot still weighs on his mind, which is to be expected with a situation and life like this. "I want to get…the surgery for it, but, ah.…my mum won't let me.."

"Well, maybe you can get it before the wedding….?" Fwhip threw out the suggestion lightly, and gave a small shrug of his shoulders. Before the wedding was a vague timeframe. Realistically, that could be as soon as they’re both legal adults, or within the next five years. But it was a time frame that they could aim for, and that was better than nothing. And if Jimmy's mom wouldn’t let him get that surgery, than Fwhip would be the one throwing him in front of the healers instead, shitty parents be damned.

He’d really had enough of shitty parents recently.

"Hmph, maybe…" Jimmy mumbles. He hopes the sound in the other’s voice is hope, faux or real. They need some positive emotions right now, he’s already feeling emotionally drained from the guilt and the shame and whatnot. It’s not even seven in the morning, either.

“The truce extends to that too, by the way.” Fwhip adds, nudging the others shoulder with his own. He feels a grin start to bloom on his face. One of his shit-eating ones that always makes Gem groan and Sausage mirror it.

The cod gives him a confused look, his face scrunching up with the feeling. He’s not despondent anymore, so that’s a win for Team Fwhip! Sadly the only win today, but he might get some more as the hours wear on, especially if he keeps this attitude up. “Whaddya mean?”

“That means if someone’s being a transphobe, I get to deck them in the face. Even when we're married.” Fwhip explains, his grin getting larger. He does one of his normal hand gestures as he speaks, like he does with all his other explanations. Jimmy, well accustomed to the half dragon’s quirks, pays it no mind.

“Even my mum?” Jimmy asks, and sounds a little stupid when he does.

Fwhip nods, and feels tension unknot itself and leave the cod’s body from where they’re still pressed together. “Even your mom.”

“Heh, thanks.” Jimmy giggles, eventually having to muffle the laughter with his hand after a few minutes. Aannddd that’s two wins for team Fwhip, all within a minute or so of the last one. He better savor these — and this rare companionship with Jimmy — while the moment allows and before their normal bickering starts up once again.

“Again, don’t thank me.” Fwhip shrugs again, his tail finally uncurling from around himself. He doesn’t need any comforting measures, not immediately anyways. The tense and upset mood from earlier is long gone, now replaced with something lighter, even if both the royal’s hearts are still heavy with a lot of things.

“Force of habit, being polite is.” The cod says, his own tail swishing dully against the floor. It’s good to see he’s cheered up, and not crying anymore. And also not having to think about all the terrible treatment he receives. It’s good.

“So I’ve noticed.” Fwhip snorts, watching as the other starts to stand up. Jimmy gives all his limbs a stretch, since they’re still probably stiff from the night’s rest, and then holds a hand down to the other boy. The half dragon takes it without any complaint, or grumbles under his breath about having to touch a fish. Jimmy just helps him up, and it's probably the most simple yet complex interaction they’ve ever had. To date, anyways.

The Prince then starts to move down the hallway, past his door to where Fwhip thinks the dining hall is. The dining hall and a million other passageways and rooms he can’t remember. Dumb castles and their dumb, beautiful architecture. “Let’s go get breakfast, or something.”

“And where are we going after that?” The ginger follows behind, already mentally preparing himself for another six or more hours of helping the dumb cod people out. Him and Jimmy might be cool for today, but that doesn’t mean he suddenly likes all that mud and grime the swamp carries. Jimmy hums, sounding a little cheeky, and like he has his own shit-eating grin now smeared across his face. “Well, mom never said we had to be in the Cod Empire today. I was just scheduled there for three days this week…”

“So we’re getting a free day?” Fwhip thinks everything about him visibly lights up, from his voice to his demeanor. The mere thought of a free day, of finally being able to hide in his guest room, or the castle’s library, or wherever this dumb kingdom invented stuff, was enough to make his tail wag slightly. Anything, literally anything , but the horrible swamps and gross water again was going to make him beam.

“Basically, yeah.” Jimmy confirms, turning a corner without even thinking. Fwhip envy's everyone who has the dumb Palace mapped out already, and doesn’t struggle getting around. So he basically envies everyone who lives there.

“Finally, time away from you.” The ginger huffs, gloved hands being shoved in his coat pockets. He tries to commit the winding corridors to memory again, and hopes it goes a little better this time.

“Finally.” Jimmy agrees, right as they reach the dining hall for breakfast. Either they walked really fast for some reason, or Fwhip’s memory of the place truly is horrible. He never thought it was that close to the bedrooms. But hey, they’re not serving fried salmon for breakfast again today, so as long as that keeps happening, he won’t complain about the proximity to food. Especially if a free day follows after it. He rarely ever gets free days, here or at home There’s always something, some project or dumb responsibility thing, to do. But now he’s finally getting one after what has to be months , maybe even years.

Maybe his stay in the Ocean won’t be so bad after all.

[astxrwar]

i care about quentin beck so much please keep telling us about your thoughts and ideas. i am so totally not normal about him, he just has so much potential!! i adored your third chapter of ties that bind, i love the way you write him and you have such a way with words. its just very well done and im so glad there’s at least one other person on this planet who thinks about him <3

AHHHH THANK U ILY we can be deranged about him together <3

rn i'm working on chapter 4 (which is already at fucking 7k! that's not even counting the like 4k+ miscellaneous stuff I already have written that will go in later chapters!!! im on such a writing bender rn it's insane)

manic brain puke (SO MUCH OF IT. SORRY!!! i have the normal amount of thoughts.jpeg) about the details below the cut if you're interested

buttt basically premise is there are a few scenes covering from like december to about march, next semester stuff, etc, some Plot Details (for once! lmao) about trying to figure out PhD stuff that will be Relevant later on and then when you have to stay late again in like. march. right before spring break when banner's off at a conference in toronto for two days you end up forgetting your apartment keys in his office so they're like. locked in there until he gets back. anyway basically all alternative plans end up not working out and you end up just going with quentin to his apartment which you both are sure (well HE is sure, you're less sure than you are Determined lmao. you are both fucking Wrong) will change things exactly Zero Percent.

(spoilers. it does actually change things a non-zero-percent. are you,,, perhaps,,, friends now??? unthinkable)

anyway my thoughts are basically 1. atp you guys finally exchange phone numbers 2. you both realize actually hooking up in somebody's apartment (either of yours) is way better than hooking up on the sly in the bio building and then 3. your hot water boiler goes out in may and you end up there AGAIN for like a WEEK and stuff changes MORE and then 4. there starts to be some light angst and like. non-platonic feelings on both ends. shit starts to get messy because you start thinking about doing your dissertation in stark's lab and quentin is like. "absolutely fucking not and no I won't explain why <3" because of course they have beef.

quentin did his postdoc under tony in this au lol. he hates him because tony fucked up a patent for something quentin invented during the postdoc and it lost him a lot of money; obviously tony is stupid fucking rich (he owns and funds an entire university! insanely rich) but quentin is Not so it like. kind of irreparably broke their relationship. tony feels Bad and that's why 1. quentin is tenured despite being technically too young and gets paid a stupid amount for academia; like at least 100k. 2. he's not required to take on undergraduate researchers in his lab (a hassle, requires lots of teaching, usually a requirement for academic research) and 3. doesn't technically have to take on PhD students either. but he does not really tell you any of this explicitly, the details kind of just come together over time, and he definitely does not say why the thought of you joining stark's lab has him being like "absolutely fucking not lmao". a big part of it is that quentin is like... aware that tony just kind of Collects smart people (like him, bruce banner, basically the entire staff + his PhD students and postdocs) and in quentin's stupid little emotionally stunted baby brain he's like "he can't have this one!!!! this one is mine,,, >:((" and does he communicate this at all? no! mans is pathologically allergic to normal emotional availability sldkfsd

so despite historically avoiding taking on PhD researchers he's like. I will let you do your work in my lab if you don't go join stark's lab. But then the issue becomes like... dude you can't be my PhD advisor, we're fucking. that's not allowed. even just fucking your PI (lab manager basically) is a massive no-no and if it got out it would bring into question the reliability of literally all of your research (the fact aside that Quentin would never lie about science for anything. even for love. fuck that shit the way that he cares about people is by absolutely tearing their work to pieces not by pretending bad science is good. literally why he bothers you all the fucking time That's How He Cares It's Incredibly Dysfunctional but i digress) but i'm imagining that it's not really explicitly outlawed in the official code of ethics because it's tony stark's university lmao. He Is A Whore i'm sure he's fucked a lot of his PhD students/postdocs/etc. (Im thinking of having quentin and tony maybe have a past history when he did his postdoc. bisexual quentin supremacy. but also because it adds another layer to the whole "i do not want you to be around him At All" because he knows that tony is functionally incapable of having normal relationships with students. it's the ways that they are very similar but also very different etc etc) basically it becomes a whole deeply emotionally fraught Mess. bruce banner agrees to still be your PhD advisor despite you not doing work in his lab which is uncommon but not unheard of, but it's still like. either you and Quentin need to Stop Fucking or you need to agree that you're never going to have a bad breakup (I say this as if it's even a mutually agreed upon relationship and not just two morons incapable of admitting they care about each other) because it would absolutely ruin both your careers. angst(TM)

I probably will not make it an unhappy ending because I hate those. I have no idea how I'm going to end it though tbh

[stunt-lads]

Destiny’s gift; 

Cordelia’s gift (but a travel mug tho); 

Matt’s gift; 

Pitch’s gift; Pitch's sweater;

Deyanira’s gift (from pitch); Deya's bedroom

for extra ambience feel free to listen to this if ya want

fun fact i forgot the word bedpost while writing this :)))) 

Cordelia, Matt, Destiny, Deyanira and Tyrant are mine

Nox and Jackilyn are @thisgirllovesherfandoms' and im just borrowing them

He never thought he’d see her frazzled, thought the first and last time she let her guard down so much would be after their disastrous fake date. That was until the holidays rolled around.

The first few weeks into December things went okay. Deyanira was her normal self, snarky and catty, the way he liked her if he was being honest with himself. 

Jackilyn’s twin sister came to visit a few days before they would both leave to go home. The first time they met her, it was jarring for both Pitch and Jack to meet someone who looked identical to the bubbly and upbeat Jackilyn but was her complete opposite in fashion, personality, and attitude.

Deyanira treated them all to a movie and dinner, insisting on paying since her boss, North, was always incredibly generous with hours and holiday pay when December came around. 

Pitch didn’t know why Jackilyn kept asking if Deyanira was going to be alright. She asked, no exaggeration, at least six times over the course of two days. Every time Deyanira insisted she was fine and things were planned and good to go, a fond smile on her face at Jackilyn’s worrying.

A few days after she saw the twins off to the bus station her facade began to crack. Her normally calm demeanor was beginning to wear down as her family called to make more and more plans and make sure things were still ready to go.

Pitch found it fascinating.

When he saw Jack off to the train station a week after Jackilyn and Nox left Deyanira looked about ready to snap. A near constant twitch was in her left eye and she looked like she hadn’t slept in a month.

He knew Destiny was a lot for Deyanira but that couldn’t be the only thing. He decided to figure it out and walked over one morning, knocking on her door, two coffees in hand.

When she opened it she looked exhausted, bags under her eyes, her hair disheveled and her clothes crumpled like she slept in them. Or hadn’t changed out of them for a few days. Grey pajama bottoms and a band logo he didn’t recognize was on her shirt.  

He handed a coffee to her without a word and she was tired enough to smile gratefully and sincerely.

“Peppermint?” She asked after taking a sip and he smirked, nodding.

“‘Tis the season after all.” He sipped his own coffee, “I thought caffeine might be better than hot chocolate for you.”

She laughed softly and stepped aside. Welcoming him easily into her home. He walked in, impressed when he saw the setup. Their tree hadn’t been up before Jackilyn left but it was now, and completely decorated too, plus all the gifts were wrapped and perfectly placed underneath it.

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” She mumbled, walking past him and pushing wrapping paper and bows off the couch and ungracefully onto the floor, “My mom’s a stickler for tradition and it has to be perfect.”

She collapsed onto the couch, sighing with exhaustion, he sat beside her staring at the tree, it was nice, not real of course, he doubted a real tree was something Deyanira would buy, but it was decorated completely with the lights strung and ready to be plugged in.

He smiled when he saw some of the decorations, no doubt gifts from Nox, a skeleton here, a coffin there, and a--

“Is that a mouse skull?” He asks and it startles her a little from her doze, she jerks awake and he feels bad, but then she smiles and laughs.

“Yeah, Jackilyn found out I collect bones and found a mouse skull turned into an ornament at a garage sale.” She smiles fondly and he feels his heart race a little, he doesn’t think about why, “It’s normally in my room, but I bring it out around the holidays.”

She groans as she stands, stretching and shuffling into the kitchen, “Well, that’s enough of a break for now, I have to start baking and making food for Christmas.”

“Do you want help?” It’s out of his mouth before he can stop himself, but he doesn’t doubt his decision when she looks at him hopefully, “Jack’s not here and my family doesn’t visit for the holidays, so I’m not doing anything anyways.”

“Honestly that would help a lot.” She pauses and then her familiar smirk is back, “So long as you don’t burn the food.”

He rolls his eyes, barely containing his own smirk, “No promises.”

They mesh well and before long the baking of all the cookies is done, the rest of the wrapping is done, and even the food is prepped for Christmas, what can be prepped anyways, and she looks so relieved and relaxed as they sit together on her couch, watching cheesy monster movies interspersed with Christmas movies.

“So, since you helped, I suppose it’s only polite that I invite you to Christmas dinner.” She says as she picks a new movie off Netflix, “If you don’t have any plans anyways I mean.”

“...Is this going to be as disastrous as our fake date?” He asks and grins at the glare she shoots at him.

“Dunno, buut I doubt it, Destiny is...subdued around our parents.”

He feels like there’s something there, something she doesn’t talk about, but he doesn’t pry, it’s not his place. Not yet anyway, but he files the info away for a later date.

“Well, sure I guess,” He pauses as the opening title begins playing on the tv, “Wait, do I have to wear a Christmas sweater?”

She laughs, “Absolutely. As gaudy as you can actually. It’s something I always do, it irritates my mother and my dad loves them.”

“Perfect, I have a terrible one that I always wear.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence, neither one thinking much as they lean on each other and intertwine their fingers while they watch the movie.

Her family shows up at roughly noon on the 23rd of December. Or...most of her family.

He knows this because he hears a dog barking and it draws his attention enough to open the door.

He sees a beast of a German Shepherd and Deyanira kneeling before it, cooing softly and smiling so genuinely his heart stops for a second. She sees him and he thinks he imagines the way her eyes light up and her smile broadens.

“Pitch!” She sounds so excited and he just smiles awkwardly, raising an eyebrow slightly, “Dad, this is Pitch, he’s a friend.”

Pitch now realizes Destiny is in the hallway as well, with a man he’s never seen before, who reaches a hand out readily to shake his.

Pitch, still in pajamas suddenly feels embarrassed and on display but he composes himself and smiles easily, shaking the man’s hand.

“Pitch, this is my father Matthew Todd.”

“Pleasure to meet you Mr. Todd.” He speaks easily and shakes the man’s hand firmly.

Matthew laughs and it's deep and genuine, “I’m just Matt.”

“You already know Destiny,” Deyanira continues, unperturbed by the fact Pitch is in pajamas -- and he’s sure she’s aware how awkward he feels.

Destiny for her part smiles and gives a polite nod to him, “And this.” Deyanira says, grabbing the sides of the dog’s face and smooshing it lovingly, “Is Tyrant.”

She dissolves into baby talk that has the dog wiggling his whole body with his excited tail wagging. Pitch doesn’t miss the muzzle on the dog, or the spiked collar, and hesitates.

“Is he friendly?” He asks as he kneels beside the dog as well.

“Not at all!” Deyanira says cheerfully and Pitch laughs, but he knows how to deal with dogs and holds his hand out to let the big guy smell him. Tyrant tenses and Pitch is grateful for the barrier between them, but then, just as suddenly as he tensed, he’s relaxed again and pushing his body against Pitch for pets.

Pitch isn’t the only one who is surprised by the mood shift, especially not if Destiny’s soft hum and Deyanira’s gentle gasp are anything to go by. No one says anything aside from Deyanira starting to gush and praise the dog while Pitch stands up.

“Get dressed and come over.” Matt says as they all herd into Deyanira’s apartment, and Pitch nods before going to do just that.

Things go amazingly, Matt is incredibly funny and lighthearted and Destiny loves talking about some of the clients she gets, no names of course, but some of the stories are too good not to share.

Tyrant lets him pet him and scratch behind his ears, and even, much to everyone else’s surprise, lets Pitch play tug-o-war with him on the floor. When he lays down to sleep later, exhausted from playing, he lays at Pitch and Deyanira’s feet.

Pitch feels like he’s home, or rather, like he’s with Jack’s family, and it’s nice.

“Oh, Dey, mother will be arriving tomorrow morning.” Destiny says as they wind down and Pitch considers heading home, the mood shifts suddenly and even Matt seems to shift uncomfortably.

“...Okay.” Is all she says and Pitch files it away with the other comment she had made.

At 10 pm he heads home, with Deyanira seeing him out the door and chewing her lip nervously. He feels a tension set in when she closes the door behind her, standing in the hallway with him, and he eyes her curiously.

“Will you...” She licks her lips and he can feel how vulnerable she is from posture and body language alone, “Please come back tomorrow. Please spend Christmas with m--us.”

It’s a whisper, like she’s conspiring, and he knows how she must feel in that instant and does what he does best.

“I had already planned on it. You invited me earlier in the week and if you think I’m giving up free food, you’re mad.”

Her relief is palpable and he grins when she rolls her eyes, “Leave it to you to just want to come over for the free food.”

“Of course. What else do you think I visit for?” He snarks and then his breath catches in his throat as she hugs him tight.

“Thank you.” She whispers and then she’s gone, back inside her apartment and he’s left blinking in the hallway, heart racing and stomach in knots.

He doesn’t think about the feelings and what they mean as he heads inside his own apartment.

He understood, when she arrived, why Jackilyn had asked if Deya was going to be okay roughly 20 times. He also understood why Destiny and Deyanira both were so tense around their mother.

He didn’t really follow fashion, but he never thought that Cordelia Todd was their mother. It made sense in hindsight, how many people realistically have the last name Todd, and how could Destiny have afforded to travel for the years she did, but he never made the connection until she arrived.

She was...something.

Pitch was already at Deyanira’s place, sharing a coffee with Matt while Destiny and Deyanira tried to find a good Christmas movie for background noise.

The knock was sharp and unexpected, Tyrant leapt to his feet and barked once before racing to the door. Somehow, even with her being albino, Pitch saw the color fully drain from Deyanira’s face.

She stood, her legs shaking a little, and approached the door with purpose. When she opened it, there was no greeting before her mother simply walked inside.

“Honestly Deyanira, couldn’t you answer the door any faster?” Her voice was reprimanding, and Pitch watched as she walked in, barely looking at her other daughter or her husband.

“Where will we be sleeping?”

“My bed.” Deyanira answered in a monotone voice.

“Your bed? Where do you plan on sleeping then?” She asked, rounding on her eldest daughter, “Don’t tell me the couch. That’s no place for a woman to sleep Deyanira.”

Matt cleared his throat before she could continue her tirade, “Delia, dear, meet Pitch, Deyanira’s neighbor. He’ll be joining us for Christmas.”

Pitch smiled, and hoped it wasn’t forced as she turned around to face him, scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes.

“Pitch?” She asked with obvious disdain, “Forgive me, but what kind of name is that?”

“It’s a nickname Mrs. Todd, my full name is often too difficult to pronounce for most people.” His voice must have sounded as snooty as he hoped because both Deyanira and Destiny cracked a smile, he kept a straight face however, as he continued, “My full name is Kozmotis Pitchiner, but Pitch is fine.”

He felt some sort of smug satisfaction when she called him Pitch later in the evening.

Their tradition, that Mrs. Todd is a stickler for, is that they open one gift on Christmas Eve.

So everyone is handed a gift, even Pitch who flounders a bit and sheepishly says “I didn’t grab your gift...” which Deyanira smiles knowingly at and he realizes he walked right into admitting he shopped for her.

“You can bring it in the morning.” She says with a wink and he sighs dramatically. It makes Destiny giggle and Matt smile, but Mrs. Todd narrows her eyes and scoffs softly.

Everyone tears into their gifts with abandon, even Tyrant rips the paper off his, revealing a plastic squeaky hamburger. Immediately he starts squeaking it and carries it around to everyone, showing it off and squeaking it in their faces.

Deyanira opens a gift from her father, a book on ancient embalming practices, and she thanks him profusely before cracking it open immediately.

Matt opens one from Destiny, revealing a nice and comfortable shirt, one that says “I love my daughter” in big letter with “(yes she bought me this t-shirt)” underneath it. He laughs and thanks her, proclaiming he’ll wear it under his sweater tomorrow.

Mrs. Todd also opens one from Destiny, it’s a travel mug and what it says makes her smile fondly, her facade of stern and overbearing cracking just a tiny bit.

“What’s it say, dear?” Matt asks, and Deyanira even looks up from her book.

“Dear Mom, thanks for putting up with a spoiled, ungrateful, messy, bratty child like my sibling. Love your favorite.”

Deyanira throws a pillow at her sister that has them all laughing, even Deyanira herself smiles and shakes her head.

Destiny opens a gift from their mother, she gasps softly as an extremely fuzzy sweater is revealed, it looks expensive, even to Pitch’s untrained eyes, and Destiny leaps off the floor, embracing her mother before putting the sweater on.

It’s big and bulky and Pitch personally thinks it’s hideous but he doesn’t know anything about fashion.

He feels eyes on him and swallows nervously before he opens his gift from Deyanira, it’s small and in a box, and he laughs before opening it.

“Hope it’s not a ring.” Deyanira snorts but she watches him close and he feels his throat close up a little bit when he sees the necklace, nestled softly in fabric padding. It looks like a camera lense, and he smiles taking it out of the box carefully.

Destiny gasps softly and makes an “ooo” sound when she sees it. Tyrant sniffs it, getting dog nose marks on it before losing interest and squeaking his toy again. Pitch puts it on, not making eye contact with Deyanira as Destiny cleans up the wrapping paper.

Matt plays with Tyrant, throwing crumpled and wadded up paper at the dog until he grumbles about it and starts tearing them up smaller. Distracted from his new toy for a moment too long. Destiny snatches it and squeaks it, running around the apartment as Tyrant chases her.

Pitch swallows past the lump in his throat and leans over before whispering a soft “Thank you.”

Deyanira just smiles and whispers just as softly, “You’re welcome.”

Only Mrs. Todd sees the exchange, unbeknownst to the two sitting by each other on the floor.

Pitch leaves shortly after, Deyanira telling him he can’t come back until tomorrow, and he better bring her gift.

He doesn’t stop touching the necklace all through his nightly routine.

He’s up at 7 am. Like every Christmas, but surprisingly he gets a knock on his door at 9.

He opens it in confusion, only to find a distraught Destiny at his door.

“What--”

“Dey won’t come out of her room.” The tone she takes makes him more alert suddenly, coffee mug in his hand held tighter, “She and mother got in an argument after you left last night,” She starts and he immediately sets his mug down, picking up his keys and Deyanira’s gift without thinking about it, “they went to bed angry and now that mom and dad are out of her room she’s locked herself in and I don’t know what to do and I don’t want to bother Jackil--”

But he’s already opening the door to Deyanira and Jackilyn’s apartment.

It smells divine, Matt apparently cooks when stressed because he’s started the preparations for dinner already. Mrs Todd sits on the couch, face blank as she stares at the television and Matt himself is knocking gently on Deyanira’s door.

Tyrant growls from the other side when Matt asks to come in.

Destiny follows Pitch close as he strides across the room to Deyanira’s bedroom door.

Pitch knocks firmly, “Let me in.” His tone leaves no room for argument.

There’s silence before she says, “Only you. I don’t want to see anyone else.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” They hear the lock click and he moves fast, sliding in and closing the door behind him, easily locking it once more before the others can even attempt to speak.

Tyrant is on the floor by her bed, little more than a black mass in the dim lighting of the room. She is laying on her side, facing away from the door.

His first order of business is walking across the room to the window, he opens the curtains and is nearly blinded by the brightness of the white snow.

Tyrant growls when he approaches the bed and Pitch just shushes him before sitting by Deyanira’s feet.

They sit in silence for a while before he clears his throat.

“So...Let’s start with, good morning and Merry Christmas.”

She scoffs and curls up tighter.

“Listen, I also hate the holidays but you can’t open your gift laying down.” He leans against the bedpost.

Deyanira is quiet and he wonders if she’s ignoring him but then she sighs and sits up, she readjusts and keeps her back to the head of the bed, she smiles when she sees his gaudy sweater.

“What the fuck is that.” She barely holds back a laugh.

“My hideous Christmas sweater.” He says casually, “It even lights up.” He presses the button and sure enough the lights on the tinsley green tree start flashing happily.

“I...Am speechless.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

They lapse into a silence again and he gently nudges her with his foot. “What happened?”

She sighs and closes her eyes, tilting her head back against the wall, and he sees her vulnerable again like on the elevator, “My mother...I...she wants me to model her fashion again, says I should because how of pretty I am. How I’m ‘wasting my beauty’ working dumb jobs and...”

She trails off and opens her eyes, a blush forming high on her face, “She saw yesterday, when you thanked me, and she thinks...I shouldn’t ‘think about a family’ when I ‘can’t even support myself financially.’”

“...Well it’s a good thing showing gratitude can’t get someone pregnant then or Jackilyn would be a mother by now.”

She laughs, it’s a bark of laughter that’s sudden and startling enough for Tyrant to jump onto the bed and sniff her curiously. They dissolve into laughter and when she’s done and they’ve composed themselves he hands her the gift he’d been holding onto.

“I’m sure you have a sweater already picked out for today,” He says casually as she opens the gift, “But it screamed your name when I saw it so...”

The black sweatshirt is immediately put on when she reads what it says, a grin on her face the entire time.

“Thank you.” She says softly and sincerely.

He smiles before whispering, “Careful, we don’t want you pregnant now do we?”

She laughs and then goes quiet, she moves closer, suddenly in his space and he’s sure she can hear his heart racing in his chest, but instead of saying anything she hugs him again, he pretends not to notice the tears leaking from her eyes as she sniffles against him.

He returns the embrace and they sit like that for a while until Tyrant breaks them up, nuzzling his face in between their arms and demanding hugs as well, slobber covered squeaky toy and all.

They break apart and laugh at the dogs antics and before either one knows what’s happening Deyanira leans forward and kisses him. His mind sort of stops, train of thought derailing in an explosive crash.

She is apparently unfazed, easily standing up and pulling him up with her.

He still hasn’t regained himself by the time she opens the door, Tyrant bolting into the living room, squeaking the toy all the way, and the two of them following after him.

Her eyes are red from crying but no one says anything, opting instead to simply hug her and things are uneasy but calm, Mrs. Todd eyes him closely and he wonders what she’s thinking before Matt asks for his help in the kitchen.

The day seems to flash past and before he knows it, it’s already 11 pm. He’s seated on the floor, back to the couch, with Deyanira sitting behind him on the sofa itself. Sprawled across his lap is Tyrant, squeaky hamburger nearby and assortment of other new toys strewn across the apartment.

Destiny is beside her sister, the two of them playfully arguing over which movie to pick, and Matt and Cordelia, because she had insisted at dinner that he call her that, sat together on the other sofa, occasionally whispering to one another.

He yawned and sighed, moving the dead weight dog off his lap, “Time for me to head to bed. Thank you for having me join you for today.”

They all bid him goodnight and he headed home.

A knock sounded on his apartment door when he was in the middle of brushing his teeth, so with toothbrush in mouth and pajama shirt slung over his shoulder, he didn’t even check to see who it was before opening the door.

Before him stood Cordelia. He felt exposed but she spoke before he could say anything.

“You make my daughter happier than I’ve seen her in a long time. You and her roommate are good for her.”

He blinked owlishly, but she continued, once again before he could speak.

“I don’t know if you two plan to spend the rest of your lives together or just have fun but I approve of whatever you two decide. I just want her happy and healthy and you seem to want the same.” She smiled and gently patted his cheek as he blinked again.

And then she turned and left to go back to Deyanira’s and he was left in the doorway with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and his shirt still slung over his shoulder.  

When he closed the door he wondered what the hell just happened.

The next couple of days flew past, and before long Deyanira’s family was leaving. They all said their goodbyes and Matt pulled Pitch aside, and suddenly Pitch was apprehensive.

“Listen, I have no idea what your relationship with my Deyanira is, but she seems genuinely happy with you around so whatever it is, you’re doing great.”

Once again, as he rambled on, Pitch couldn’t get a word in edgewise and before he knew it they were gone.

And then it was just the two of them. And Tyrant.

Deyanira had apparently talked to the landlady of the building and she had said so long as the dog doesn’t bark too much she didn’t care if he stayed.

“Guess Jackilyn is getting a dog for Christmas.” Deyanira had laughed when she told Pitch about it.

And then they were sitting on the couch together again, this time with Tyrant at their feet, and their hands again intertwined easily.

“...Are we dating?” He asked suddenly and she turned to look at him curiously.

“Uhhh,” She said elequently, “I mean...Not technically, no...Why? Do you want to be?”

“I...don’t know.” He said turning to look at her curiously as well.

“Oh good, great, perfect, because neither do I.” She was sincere, he could tell, which made him laugh.

“We are a mess.” He whispered before leaning close and kissing her cheek.

“Absolutely.” She laughed, and they cuddled up together again, watching something more geared for Halloween than Christmas, but it didn't matter. They were happy.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 8)

a/n: oh my! we have finally reached the end of this story and I never thought it would turn out to be this long but im happy it did! thank you for reading and loving it, and now, enjoy the last part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4k

warning: just pure fluff

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“Girl, even if you don’t win, you’ll surely take the title of the hottest woman on the red carpet tonight.”

Florence’s words make you chuckle, but you try not to move your lips too much as the makeup artist finishes up the last touches on them, using a nude shade.

“Stop, my head is big enough already,” you tell her, giving her a look through the mirror. She is standing a few feet behind you, already wearing her beautiful, golden Versace gown that hugs her perfectly. Her hair is up in a neat bun so her back can be on full display and the diamonds in her ears can also shine brightly. She looks amazing while she is the opposite of what you’ll look like tonight.

Rhonda, the makeup artist has an amazing notion about your look when you showed her the gown you’d be wearing tonight and since the dress is not the sparkly kind, like Florence’s, she went a little heavier with the glitter on your eyes, using mostly whitish-silver colors, creating rosy cheeks and topping it with nude, glossy lips. Your hair is in loose curls with a bunch of extension, creating the illusion that you might as well be Rapunzel herself tonight. But you are the most excited about the gown that’s already waiting for you to be finally put on.

“What time is it?” you ask Florence as you don’t have your phone on you, but she has hers in her hands already.

“We still have half an hour before we have to leave. Dude, I can’t believe you are an Oscar nominee and might turn into a winner tonight!” she sighs, eyes shining bright with excitement. She hasn’t come off of this high for days, so over the Moon that you get to walk the red carpet tonight as a nominee.

“Don’t jinx it, Flo,” you warn her.

There’s a knock on the door of the hotel suit you’ve occupied for the glamming and Florence is quick to rush to it answering, but you both know who it is. As she throws the door open Harry comes to your sight, looking  as handsome as ever, wearing his custom made Gucci suit with a pink dress shirt underneath that matches your gown perfectly.

“Florence, you look wonderful!” his british accent fills the room, making you smile. Rhonda sets your makeup with some spray and you’re finally done. Standing up you move your legs around a bit as they went a little numb from all the sitting.

“Thank you! Pink suits you well, Harry,” your friend compliments your man and you watch them smiling.

When Harry’s eyes set on you, the light up, his smile widening from ear to ear. He looks spotless, freshly shaved, his hair recently cut and combed into place for a change. Not that you don’t like it when it’s all tousled and messy, especially when it’s because of your fingers.

“Angel, wow!” he breathes out as he walks up to you, taking your hands in his. You know he wants to kiss you, but doesn’t want to risk messing your lips up, so he is left with admiring you with only his eyes.

“Just wait until you see her in the dress!” Florence chimes in making you chuckle. You kept your dress a secret, wanting to surprise him with the first look. You gave out only the most necessary details for Lambert so the two of you could match.

“You’d be great like this too,” he teases, taking a look at your fluffy robe.

“I’m not going to the Oscars in a robe,” you tell him with a narrow-eyed look.

“I know, I’m just saying that you’d still be stunning,” he mumbles with a boyish smirk.

“Y/N? Time to choose a necklace!” Your stylist, Rupert appears from the room where your gown is hanging. He has a few jewelry boxes in his hands and he sets them all to the coffee table, opening up you are met with four breathtakingly beautiful diamond necklaces, each of them different yet so magical looking, you can’t decide which one you like the most.

“Harry, which one do you like the most?” you ask, kneeling down next to the table, mesmerized by the jewelries in front of you. Harry leans down and inspects them one by one before poking on the last one in the row. It has three rows of diamonds, not too big, the stones in the last row are shaped like water droplets, it’s such an elegant looking piece, it surely caught your eyes as well and you think it would be perfect with the dress.

“This one,” he tells you and you nod, shutting the other boxes, satisfied with the choice.

“Alright, time to get you into the gown, girl,” Rupert winks, gesturing at you to follow him into the room.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Harry, risking a quick peck on his lips before you disappear in your temporary dressing room.

You fell in love with the gown on the first fitting when Rupert pulled it out, still in the finishing phase. It still has pins in it, but it already took your breath away. It has a massive A-line skirt and a tight upper part that hugs your body perfectly, a row of buttons running down the middle of it. The sleeves are puffy, but then end in a tight run from a little above your wrists, the same set of buttons appearing like on your chest. It’s giving out some Victorian style vibes in a more sophisticated and simpler way, but it’s by far your favorite dress you’ve ever worn to any event.

It surely needs the extra pair of hands from Rupert to put it on, but once you are secured in it, you feel like a princess straight out of a fairytale and surely, your prince is standing on the other side of the double doors.

“Alright! Everyone get ready for the big reveal!” Rupert announces, sneaking out the room so he can open the door for you. He waits a few moments as you hear everyone shuffle around outside, probably lining up to see you walk out in your finished state. “Okay, three! Two! One! Welcome our Oscar nominee!” he cheers, a round of applause is heard before you even appear, but it’s quickly replaced with gasps when Rupert pulls the doors open and they get the first glimpse of you in your gown.

“Holy fuck!” Florence gasps, mouth hanging open as she keeps raking your form up and down. Your eyes find Harry’s gaze and you see him in a state you haven’t often found him in the past almost two years you’ve been dating. He is completely speechless, eyes glued to you in awe as if he just saw an angel in real life.

“Y/N, I—wow,” he breathes out, still at a loss of words.

“You like it?” you ask with a shy smile.

“I fucking love it, baby. You look… You really are an angel,” he tells you, making you chuckle at his words.

“Would you please help me put on the necklace?” you ask him and he nods eagerly, carefully taking the jewelry out of its box and walking behind you, he brings it around your neck, his fingers delicately working on the clasp. Once it’s all set, you step to the floor to ceiling mirror, taking in the final look.

“There won’t be a straight woman left on Earth once you step on the red carpet,” Florence bluntly comments, making everyone in the room laugh.

“Let’s take some photos, I need to immortalize this masterpiece,” Rupert gestures around, already grabbing his camera.

The next ten minutes you take hundreds of photos, alone, with Florence and then with Harry. He still seems a little stunned by your look, feeling shy when he circles his arm around your waist, but it’s cute that you can still have such an effect on him after being together for almost two years.

Florence snaps some with your phone as well, your favorite is when he held your waist and leant you back, making you arch backwards as your noses touched since he couldn’t kiss you. You already know it’ll end up as your lockscreen, replacing the selfie the two of you took on your latest trip to Hawaii.

When it’s time to leave you grab your little purse with your phone and other necessities and the three of you pile up in a minivan, since your dress needs all the space so it doesn’t get wrinkled before you step out to the red carpet.

As you sit in the car and watch the buildings pass by, your nerves start to rise in you. When the nominations came out a month ago it seemed so far, you couldn’t imagine yourself actually attending the Academy Awards, but now here you are, on your way to find out if you’ve been good enough to be the best.

Your role in Sinful Heaven has brought a lot to your life aside from the nomination. The three months of filming was one of the hardest times in your life you’ve ever worked through and at some points, you didn’t even think you’d get through it. Working so closely with Levi took a toll on you while you were trying to prove in such a heavy and serious role. It was a mess especially at the beginning when you and Harry were still in this weird phase, but that eventually turned right when he literally punched Levi in the face and ten minutes later asked you to be his girlfriend. It’s a badass way to start a relationship and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, especially because it put Levi into place or at least scared him enough to get off your back for the rest of the filming.

When Harry left following that visit, you couldn’t see each other until filming wrapped and you flew straight to him and travelled with him for the next two weeks, hopping from one city to the other, watching him perform every other night and spending all your time with him.

When the movie premiered eight months later, you didn’t appear with Harry by your side, Maya was your date for the evening, but by that time everyone knew you and Harry are an official couple. Neither of you felt like hiding it or caring about what others would think and you were able to focus on each other and rely on the strong foundation you’ve built for your relationship.

He was there with you when the nominations came out and probably screamed louder when your name appeared in the list. With tearing eyes and choked out sobs you jumped into his arms as he mumbled into your ear.

“I’m so proud of you, Angel. So, so proud!”

And now you are on your way to the show, only hours away from finding out if your dreams will come true tonight. Harry squeezes your hand and you turn to face him, his soft eyes meeting yours.

“Nervous?” he asks with a small smile.

“Very,” you admit with an airy chuckle.

“Whatever happens tonight, I’m very proud of you. Don’t forget that.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze back.

Since it’s the first time you and Harry appear on the red carpet as a couple, once you set your feet out of the car, everyone goes nuts. He helps you out and even fixes your dress so it falls just perfectly around your frame before he offers his arm. You link your through it, taking a deep breath as the two of you start walking down the carpet, posing for the photographers.

You feel powerful and strong, like it’s the peak of your career, but you also feel that it wouldn’t be the same without Harry by your side even though he is making sure to let you shine tonight. At one point he even steps back for a moment so photographers can snap you alone and you think it’s such a caring move from him.

You feel a little dizzy from all the flashlights by the time you walk into the theater, Harry holding your hand tightly as he leads you to your seats.

You’ve been to plenty award shows and it’s not even your first Academy Awards appearance either, but for obvious reasons, it’s the most important. Sitting in your plush chair, you can barely stop yourself from continuously fidgeting as one category follows the other and it’s still not yours.

Then following a jaw-dropping performance from Dua Lipa, Chris Evans walks out with a golden statue and an envelope in his hands and your heart skips a beat, but not because of the man himself, but because you know he is the presenter of the Best Actress category.

Your hold on Harry’s hand on your lap tightens and you glue your eyes to the big screens behind Chris as he smiles around.

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to be here and to present the award for Best Actress. The theater tonight is filled with exceptional talents, but let’s see the nominees,” he speaks into the microphone and then he starts listing the names.

Emma Stone, Anne Hathaway, Margot Robbie and Rooney Mara are called and a camera fixates on each of them when Chris says their names, all smiling brightly and waving around before your name is called at the end. Taking a deep breath you plaster your most wonderful smile across your face, waving around like the other nominees did before the big screen splits, showing the five of you simultaneously.

“We’ve seen some spectacular performances from these ladies and now let’s see who proved herself to be the best this year.”

Chris flips the envelope open and pulls the little paper out that has the winner’s name written on it and for a moment you’re convinced you’ll pass out. You’ve never felt this anxious before and you’re gripping Harry’s hand so tightly you’re surprised he hasn’t pulled it back, but he is patiently putting up with your nerves, his eyes glued to the man on the stage as well.

“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…” Chris starts with a charming smile, holding a short pause before he finally says the name. “Y/N Y/L/N for her role as Marie Davidson in Sinful Heaven!”

Your mouth hangs open, ears ringing as you process that your name was called. Everyone around you jumps up, including Harry, who is screaming just like when the nominations came out, while you are completely blank. It takes you a couple of moments to realize that you in fact just won your first Oscar and everyone is waiting for you to go and get your little statue.

“Baby! Baby you won!” Harry cheers as he helps you up from your seat and you throw yourself into his arms as reality sets in. “I fucking love you, Angel. Go and get your Oscar!” he laughs, pride all over his face as he urges you to walk up to the stage.

“Walk me up, please!” you stammer, not trusting yourself with walking in this fragile state. He offers his hand without a second thought, walking you to the stage where Chris is politely waiting for you to help you up on the stairs.

“Thank you,” you breathe out once you’re finally up on the stage, every set of eyes on you as Chris hands you the little statue.

“Congratulations,” he smiles as the two of you exchange two kisses on the cheeks before he steps aside and lets you give a speech.

You thought about writing a few words beforehand, but you figured if you end up being the winner you’d forget the whole thing, so there would be no use and that’s the case. Your mind is still blank as you look down at the award in your hands, the crowd still cheering on you, giving you a few extra moments to figure out what to say.

“I uhh—I don’t even know what to say, this feels like a dream,” you admit talking into the microphone, the clapping dying down so that everyone can hear your words. “I want to thank to everyone who worked on Sinful Heaven, because I wouldn’t be here without them. To my wonderful director and amazing costars, it’s been such a wonderful journey with you all. Thank you to my friends and family who were there with me from the very start, believing in me when I was losing faith in myself, thank you for never giving up on me. To my parents who I assume are now crying in front of the TV,” you add chuckling softly, imagining your mom and dad in tears as they listen to your words. “This is a wonderful sign to me that I am where I need to be and that I’m on the right path, so thank you for giving me even more motivation to keep me going on my way.”

Your eyes roam around all the guests until they fall on one proud man staring at you in his Gucci suit and pink dress shirt, his green eyes looking glossy as he listens to your words.

“And last but not least, thank you to one special person, because I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here tonight without him. I have one thing to tell you.” Forgetting about everyone in the theater you hold up the Oscar in your hand as you finish your speech: “Never have I ever loved someone like I love you.”

The crowd starts cheering again as you step away from the microphone and Chris is quick to jog up to you and help you down the stairs, Harry rushing back to take your hand once Chris lets go of it.

You catch him wipe a tear off his cheek as the two of you walk back to your seats hand in hand. Once you are settled, you take a deep breath and turn to Harry who is already looking at you, the same proud smile you saw from the stage still on his handsome face.

“I have never,” he tells you as his answer to the last line of your speech and you chuckle as your free hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. The lipstick on your lips long forgotten as you finally kiss him for the first time tonight.

“I have never either,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again and again.

***

  Smiling around you wait for the audience to quiet down as you make yourself comfortable in the familiar armchair. It’s such a nostalgic feeling to sit here again.

“Y/N, it’s so nice to have you here again,” Ellen greets you once the clapping has stopped.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course. A lot has happened since the last time you were here, you won an Oscar just a few weeks ago, congratulations!”

The cheering starts again as a picture of you appears on the screen behind you, wearing your iconic pink gown, holding your Oscar in your hands.

“Thank you,” you shyly smile, still not entirely in peace with the fact that you are now an Oscar winning actress.

“Such a major thing, congrats.”

“Thank you, it is a huge thing, yes.”

“Do you already have a spot for the award? Does it have a designated place?”

“Well, for now it is in my study along with some more mementos, but I’m planning to have a little stand made in the living room,” you share your plans.

“Surely, I would want to show it off if I had an Oscar,” Ellen chuckles. “You have such a busy time behind you, have you been up to something new lately?”

“We finished filming the third season of The Umbrella Academy, so now I’m having a little break before I jump into anything new.”

“Sounds nice, you deserve all the relaxing. Anything planned while you’re on a break? A new book to read, or maybe a concert to go to?” she asks and you already know where this is heading.

“You know you can just ask if I’m planning to attend a Harry Styles concert,” you bluntly tell her, making the audience and Ellen laugh.

“Well, I was just asking around about your plans, but I’m happy you plan to visit Harry’s concert! It’s also good to know that the situation has changed since the last time you were here, you definitely have been to one of his concerts since then.”

“I have been, yes,” you admit smirking.

“And I assume the two of you are now very close, am I right?” she asks and suddenly a paparazzi photo of the two of you appears where you’re walking down the street hand in hand just a couple of weeks ago.

“You could say that,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.

“Amazing, because he is going to join us now. Everyone, please welcome Harry Styles!” Ellen announces and turning around you spot Harry walking out from backstage, the audience screaming for him. He shyly waves around walking up to the center, greeting Ellen with a kiss on the cheek before he turns to you, pecking your lips shortly as he sits down next to you.

“Harry, so good to see you again,” Ellen smiles at him.

“Good t’ see you as well,” he nods.

“So, the last time you two were sitting here, you—it was the first time you ever met, right?”

“Right,” you nod with Harry.

“And now you are…” she gestures at the two of you, not finishing the sentence, but everyone knows what she meant by that.

“And now we are… not strangers anymore,” Harry says chuckling, making everyone in the studio laugh.

“Certainly,” Ellen nods. “Alright, I thought that we could play another game, just to bring back some nice memories,” she explains, reaching behind her armchair, grabbing the familiar board from her, flipping it in your hands with a nostalgic smile.

“Can we keep it PG rated though?” Harry asks, examining his board before looking up at Ellen.

“No,” she simply answers, reaching for her cards as the audience starts laughing. “Okay, you know how to play it, no need for explanation. Here is the first one: Never have I ever used my fame to get in somewhere.”

Ellen is quick to show the I HAVE side of her board and you slowly do the same while Harry thinks to himself.

“Oh come on, you surely have,” you elbow him playfully as he smirks in your way, holding up the same side as you and Ellen.

“We all have, it’s not a shame,” Ellen shrugs. “Next one. Never have I ever forgotten the name of someone right after they introduced themselves.”

Ellen holds up the I HAVE side and you do the same again while this time Harry flips it over to I HAVE NEVER confidently.

“Really?” Ellen asks him, surprised at his answer.

“I’m good with names,” he simply shrugs.

“That’s a good trait. Alright, let’s move on. Never have I ever punched someone in the face.”

It’s a sneaky and very shady statement. Just a few days after the incident with Levi, word got out that he was punched, a few blurry pictures floating around the internet of his bruise, then fans figured out it had to happen around the time Harry visited set and people were quick to put the picture together and assume that Harry was the one who hit Levi, but it was never confirmed.

Glancing at your boyfriend you are fighting your smile back, holding up the I HAVE NEVER side as he is looking back at you slyly, continuously flipping his board before it finally lands on I HAVE, the audience immediately rumbling at the partial confirmation and seemingly Ellen is also amazed by Harry’s honesty.

“Alright, interesting. Love that for you, Harry,” he comments making everyone laugh as you reach over and give Harry’s hand a squeeze. “Last one,” Ellen announces, reading the last statement from her cards. “Never have I ever fallen in love with someone I played never have I ever with.”

Ellen quickly shows her I HAVE NEVER side as you suck your lips into your mouth, glancing at Harry again. You share a look before you both slowly raise your boards, both reading the same sign on them: I HAVE.

[alwaysmarveling]

Socks

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: toxic relationships, small mentions of death, gaslighting, fighting, and miscarriage

Word Count: 4k (literally exactly 4k, I’m kinda proud)

A/N: Based on the song “1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back” by Olivia Rodrigo as suggested by @vancityfire13, I hope this meets all your hopes and expectations <3 also technically this is my first prompt from someone who’s not me??!

You met Wanda at the library. Your legs crossed, eyebrows scrunched, and bottom lip caught between your teeth, you’d settled in the familiar corner of the library's world languages section. That area was always quiet, which you’d found out after many trips to the library as a kid. When the occasional patron did wander through, perusing the shelves, sometimes they brought family or friends, weaving together sounds and syllables that had to be from another language. It was the only sound you’d tolerate while you were immersed in your reading. Well, to be fully honest, you loved it, wondering what the hushed voices were saying, what stories they were telling. So Wanda’s English was a jarring wake-up call.

“I like your socks.” Her eyes flashed to your ankles, leaving you wondering if she was more drawn to the sky blue color or the characters covering it.

You’d noticed the brunette walking the aisles about ten minutes ago. Unlike most, she ran her fingers along the worn spines, seeming only half-interested in what the titles read.

“Thanks.” Your voice was cold, unwelcoming. She gave you a terse nod before heading off, her footsteps silent against the worn carpet. You thought she was gone.

-

A week later, you were back at your spot. You’d finally finished the work you’d been putting off for weeks, just about to reward yourself with a reread of Little Women, a book you’d read an uncountable number of times since you were a child. She was an unwelcome interruption.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but-”

“I was looking for a book for my brother. His name is Pietro. Was Pietro. There was a Sokovian fairytale he always loved. Begged my mother to read it to us every night. He could recite it by memory by the time he was five, knew every word. I thought I did too.” Your eyes traced down the curve of her spine. Your mother would have scolded you for standing so poorly.

“I’m sorry for your loss” was all you said, your lips forming a tight line when you finished.

“I couldn’t- I can’t remember the title.”

“I can try to help you find it?” You weren’t sure why you offered, maybe the lost look in her eyes, the growing strength of her accent as she talked, or the way her fingers traced her empty palms. No one should leave a library empty-handed.

“Do you speak Sokovian?” The corners of her eyes creased as you shook your head.

“I suppose you won’t be much help then, will you?” Her words held no bite, only the sadness of a stranger who was trying to hold herself together, her emotions threatening to unravel her at the weakened seams. You matched her facial expression out of sympathy, but she was gone before you had a chance to apologize.

-

“Do you like Disney?” she had asked you. Her eyes were back on your ankles. You were wearing the same socks as when the two of you first met. You were milliseconds away from answering, your tongue already against the roof of your mouth, ready to shut down the conversation immediately afterward. But then you noticed the way her hands fidgeted in her lap, her fingers always moving, almost like they were dancing. You sighed. You should be nicer; she’d really done nothing wrong.

“It’s alright.” Your shoulders raised and dropped, your answer purposefully vague. “Did you manage to find the book?” The darkening of her eyes was enough to tell you that, no, she hadn’t found it. “What’s the main character’s name?” Her gaze followed you as you pulled out your laptop.

“Boleslav,” she answered finally. Her gaze was timid, unsure. Why were you helping her? You’d been so closed off before. 

“Do you know any major points of the story? The names of the other characters?” Before she could answer, you eyed the pillow that sat next to you. She took a seat.

The two of you poured over Google, eventually finding the story and its location in the library. But by that point, you were too wrapped up in your findings on the Internet to get up. Too wrapped up in each other.

---

Wanda insisted she make it up to you, for finding the book for her.

“For helping me find my brother,” she insisted, pulling you out of the library. If she was anyone else, you would have responded by saying that she could make it up to you by leaving you alone with your books, but she wasn’t anyone else. So you let her tug you out of the building, Mirabelle, the librarian, giving you a wink upon seeing you leaving the building with someone else, soft smiles gracing your faces.

You thought she would’ve brought you to coffee, but it seemed you hadn’t yet developed the ability to understand her. She brought you to the city, a small store on the corner. Socks lined the walls, the different colors and patterns flooding your vision.

“Your Disney ones looked old.” You half-nodded as you scanned the store, your hand going limp in hers. You remembered learning about rods and cones in class ages ago, not quite remembering what each one did but remembering that one of them was involved in seeing colors. Those—whatever they were called—must’ve been on overdrive.

You picked one pair for her, and she, one for you. You wore those socks constantly, slipping them over your feet the second they were out of the wash. You never told Wanda about it, but you didn’t have to; her eyes fell to your ankles every time she saw you, a small smile on her face. You didn’t know if you did it for her reaction or simply because you loved them. Maybe it was both.

---

Wanda drew you into her world. Some might have used the word “yanked” given how quickly your relationship moved. But that made it sound involuntary, as if she’d forced you to move in with her when she’d asked you exactly eight months after your first date. And if you’d known she had powers when you first met her, you might’ve agreed. Maybe she’d entranced you and now you were stuck with her, even if you didn’t really want to be.

But the truth was that you did, you wanted to be with her every second you could. And though magic never left her hands when she was with you, even her name was magic, the way those two syllables rang beautifully in the air as she formally introduced herself for the first time. She spoke English when she talked to you, but you swore that whatever left her mouth was a language of her own, so elegant, sweet, and charming in a way that no English speaker could replicate.

But, one night, her words twisted into daggers, punctuated syllables sharpening into dangerous ends, the beginning of each sentence like a handle she grabbed and used to hurt you further, twist until it was lodged as deeply into your chest as it could go.

You weren’t sure what you did to make it happen. Maybe it was just a bad night. She was drunk, after all, home from some party with the Avengers that you hadn’t gone to. The two of you had talked it over before, though, both agreeing that it was too soon in your relationship to attend anything where it’d be publicly released, which was why you were confused about why she was cursing you out for abandoning her, not being there when you needed her.

You promised that you’d be sure to go next time. Wanda just turned around, dismissing you without another word. You weren’t sure what was worse, the silence or her words. She somehow missed the tears that streamed down your face.

-

The next day, she knocked on your door. This time, she was the one in tears, the rate at which they fell only increasing when she saw how puffy your eyes were.

“I- I’m sorry,” she bumbled, the sounds tumbling out of her mouth like a barrel coming down the Niagara Falls. She couldn’t have stopped them if she tried. You watched her struggle through an apology, something about her insecurities being magnified as she saw all the other couples around her seemingly happy. She just wanted that. And even though her speech was much more clumsy than the usual effortless diction you were used to hearing from her, you allowed her words to draw you in, provide you shelter from the horrors you’d experienced yesterday, when your heart raced and blood rushed your ears and your palms were so sweaty you couldn’t get a grip on anything. You allowed her arms to draw you in, make you feel safe. You allowed her to bring you home.

---

Wanda saw a side of you that no one had ever seen before. Scratch that, Wanda saw all of you. Where others would’ve looked away or missed the true meaning of your words, she dug deeper. You lived your whole life with a mask on, swapping one out for another to appease those around you. Wanda took them all off.

But she didn’t force them off; she made you want to take them off. You were the one who peeled them off one by one, the experience being extremely unnerving every time you revealed that much more of yourself to her, but you always found yourself relieved at the end. Because she accepted you, she loved you.

Right?

---

You called her once, during a mission. It was something the two of you had been doing ever since you started dating. You would ask how she was doing, make sure she was okay, and she’d do the same for you. Of course, when her missions were off-the-grid you didn’t call, but if the two of you were allowed to stay in contact, she insisted that you guys do so.

“I have to make sure my love is okay,” she’d murmured, just before she left for her first mission since the two of you started your relationship. She was holding you in her arms as the two of you swayed back and forth. Your feet were bare for once, the cold kitchen tile underfoot grounding the both of you. Neither of you had wanted to let go; your hands were clasped firmly together around her waist, and hers rested on top of yours. But eventually, the incessant honking from Tony became too much, and the two of you reluctantly moved apart.

“I’ll call you the second I can, yeah? And make sure you call me in the morning when you wake up.”

“I will,” you nodded as Wanda’s hand came up to brush against your cheek.

But somehow she’d forgotten about your agreement, and nothing but annoyance filled your ear, the phone pressed up against it.

“Y/N, I really don’t have time for this right now.” You sucked in a breath, her tone an instant reminder of that night she’d yelled at you. But that was so long ago. And you hadn’t done anything; there wasn’t a party you’d missed since then, not a moment since then that you’d let her feel alone. Or was there?

“I- I’m sorry,” you stuttered. “Should I call you back later?” All you got was a sigh, doubt and panic filling your chest in the momentary silence.

“We’ll see. Goodbye, milaya.” There was barely a pause in between her voice and the disconnect tone. You weren’t sure if the pet name was sincere or a habit leftover from the good times.

Were you still in the good times?

What went wrong?

Where did you go wrong?

-

She came back from the mission, and all was well again. She spun you around and around, her melodious giggles filling your ears and causing the corners of your mouth to lift. But you couldn’t help your brows from cinching inwards, wondering where this Wanda had been when you’d called. Was it just another fluke, or maybe something you’d imagined?

“I love you, printsessa, so, so much,” Wanda whispered. You loved the way her smooth voice filled your ears, made you feel whole again. Maybe it was the kitchen? Was that the place she felt safe, the place where she felt like she could love you fully? Maybe that’s why she seemed so closed off during the mission. When you didn’t respond, too lost in thought, she spoke up again.

“Detka, d’you know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me? I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her eyes sparkled. No red mist emerged from her fingertips, but you swore Wanda’s essence was magic in and of itself. How could you ever deny her?

You surrendered.

“I love you too. More than anything in the world.”

---

The next day, Wanda woke you up with excitement filling her voice, insisting that you come with her to the compound to pick up some of the things she’d left behind. 

“I want to show you off,” she’d laughed as she rolled you over.

“We’ve already met, babe. They love me, you’ve said so yourself,” you groaned. She shook her head as she corralled you into the bathroom.

“You haven’t met all of them! Now c’mon, let’s go!” You agreed, and she was right, there were lots of new people there.

“You must be Y/N, right?” You nodded as you shook the man’s hand.

“I’m Clint. I’ve heard, um, lots about you. And your socks.” The two of you laughed at his joke, but something about his chuckle was off. His smile never quite reached his eyes. Wanda whisked you off too soon for you to figure out why though, bringing you over to a rather large man. No, god, he’s a god. Thor, he said. His name is Thor.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’d responded.

“The love of my life,” Wanda sighed, her voice wispy and dreamy. The god’s eyebrows had raised at that.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you then, Y/N. I didn’t know Wanda was so fortunate as to have a love so strong.” Sometimes you had to remind yourself of that too. “You are very lucky, my friend.” Am I? 

-

You exchanged jokes with Natasha, learned of some of Bruce and Tony’s new projects, listened to stories of Thor’s childhood adventures on Asgard; the night went well. Until it didn’t.

You were yanked into a mostly empty room, the door quickly shut behind you. Was that a flash of red you’d seen in the corner of your eye?

“What did you do?” someone hissed. The voice was familiar, but by this point, you weren’t sure if it filled you with dread or joy when you heard it. Was that part of the excitement of your relationship, trying to figure out the complexities of it all, trying to predict which version of your lover you’d get this time?

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “I didn’t do anything, Wanda, I swear!”

“Then why is Clint telling me to break up with you? What did you say to him?” Your head shook, your whole body shook. This was news to you.

“I didn’t say anything. Please, Wan-”

“How am I supposed to believe that, Y/N? Do you really think he’d just make that up out of nowhere?” You tried to find the words, the ones you should say, the ones she’d want you to say. You had nothing. The witch’s anger grew, her hands slamming down on her sides. “God, Y/N! It’s like sometimes I don’t even know who you are!”

But wait, that was how you felt. Wasn’t it? Or had you dreamed that up too? What had you done?

“Wanda, I promise I didn’t do anything. I’ve been friendly to him all night.”

“So you expect me to believe he’s lying, then.” Your eyes fell to her chest, its rise and fall rapid but deep, going up and down several times before she spoke again. “Y/N, he named his child after my brother. Why would he lie to me?” You could do nothing, say nothing to fix this. You weren’t sure exactly what you did, but you’d messed up. Again.

“Maybe he’s right, then.” Her hand ran through her hair, the brown locks that you loved to twist around your own fingers, play with as she laid in your lap, a show playing in the background. You missed those times.

But weren’t you just doing that last night?

You weren’t sure. It seemed like so long ago.

---

Weeks, months, even a year passed. Wanda had apologized for that night at the compound. She’d also apologized for the countless number of other times the two of you had fought since then. But it was okay, you’d thought, because for all those arguments was an equal number of moments where the two of you laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe, slow-danced at 3 AM, used your hairbrushes as microphones to sing concerts for your millions of fans. At least, you thought it was an equal number. Did number matter anyway?

Wanda went from being your girlfriend, to being your fiancé, to being your wife. Like Thor had said, you were “very lucky.” You are very lucky. Because right now, you’re looking down at the stick in your hand, and there are two lines, not one. The two of you had done something so many couldn’t; that was a huge blessing. And now you had to tell Wanda.

Finding the box was harder than you thought, but the other part was much easier. All you had to do was go to the store Wanda had taken you to all that time ago, the small store on the corner. And when the brunette lifted open the lid to find a pair of socks so tiny they could only be for one thing, one person, one baby, she knew. She was ecstatic. You were relieved.

-

Four weeks. Four weeks later from that day was the worst day of your life. Just as quickly as the baby had come, it had gone. He or she was gone. Was it your fault? The doctor had been quick to shut those thoughts down, insisting that there were many factors that could’ve caused the miscarriage, but you certainly weren’t one of them.

But Wanda didn’t talk to you for a whole week, spending the nights in the guest bedroom to avoid you. It was the longest the two of you had gone without speaking. That had to mean something, right?

It did. It meant that it shouldn’t have been a surprise when you came home from work the following Monday to find half of the things missing. All of her things.

The box was still there, though; you saw it out of the corner of your eye. It sat on top of a cabinet, the two socks poking out of the top.

The two of you had fallen in love with those tiny socks faster than you’d fallen in love with each other. They held so much love, so much promise. But now they were empty, devoid of anything they might’ve held just hours before. They were nothing more than a painful reminder of what could have been, what should have been. Meanwhile, your own socks were still on, the same ones Wanda had given to you on your first date. You weren’t sure you could take them off if you tried. Was that a reminder too? Did it have significance?

The ticking of the clock suddenly caught your attention. You had been standing at the doorway for thirty minutes, but what were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to go somewhere? Where would you go? Wanda was gone, not leaving any clue as to where she could’ve run off to, and you were alone. 

When was the last time you’d been truly alone?

Didn’t you use to like being alone?

You grabbed your keys. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, but whatever it was, you wouldn’t find it here.

-

You push open the door, always the one on the right. Walk twenty or so steps through the entrance, turn left. Take another left, then walk-

It was different. Completely different. The shelves weren’t the same color, metal had been swapped for wood, the carpet was new; what had happened?

“Y/N, sweetie, is that you?” Mirabelle’s voice. At least she was still here. You turned to face her, taking in her wrinkled face, the tortoiseshell glasses that had been perched on her nose since you met her as a child. “Oh my goodness, it is! We haven’t seen you in ages. We were all so worried.”

“Wha- what happened to the library?” Her kind smile flipped, her lips separated with their corners turning downwards.

“We got a renovation at the end of last year, honey. Didn’t you see it on the news?”

“Right,” you nodded, swallowing again, trying to push down the lump that had been growing in your throat for over an hour. “Um, where’s the world languages section?”

“Upstairs, love. Take two rights and you’ll see it. Enjoy your visit, okay?” You nodded again, pressing your lips into a wavering smile that Mirabelle accepted.

You found the section easily enough, pushing yourself into one of the beanbags that crowded the floor. It was quiet—you supposed not many people came to the library on a late Tuesday afternoon—but something was missing.

No, that wasn’t it. Nothing was missing. Everything had changed, and you couldn’t settle yourself no matter how hard you tried. You couldn’t recognize the white walls or the large windows that surrounded you. You couldn’t recognize the book in your shaking hands; the title read “Little Women,” but it lacked the comfort and familiarity it once brought you. You couldn’t recognize the artwork that hung on the walls, the large signs suspended from the ceiling.

You caught a reflection in the shiny metal of a book cart that lay several feet away from you.

You couldn’t recognize yourself.

When you finally left the library, Mirabelle frowned as she watched you exit the doors, not stopping to check out a book like you always did. No one should ever leave a library empty-handed. You’d forgotten that too.

---

She came back less than a week later, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes rimmed with red as she stumbled her way through an apology.

“It was a mistake, detka, I promise. I made such an awful mistake, and I’ll never forgive myself. I won’t blame you if you don’t forgive me either.” You stared at her, neither your eyes nor your mouth moving as you tried to take in what she was saying, tried to come up with an adequate response.

Which had changed more, the library or you?

“Please, you’re the only thing that matters in my life. I can’t lose you.” The melody of her once-full voice was broken, the chords fragmented and notes falling out of tune. It was as broken as you’d felt for the past few days. Maybe she understood. But you couldn’t think anymore because you were suddenly in her arms again, her tears soaking your shirt as she sobbed.

The library had been renovated, its modernity and welcoming environment being a major improvement to the once somewhat dilapidated building. You had slipped, your feet wrapped in the socks Wanda had given you as you stumbled down the dark, crooked hallway of your life, trying desperately to get a hand on the wall, grab a solid footing.

You had two options: save yourself or fall.

“Please, Y/N, please. Promise you’ll stay.” 

You fell backwards, your head being the first to slam into the floor.

“Of course I’ll stay, Wan. I’d never leave you.”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever get up. After all, changed or not, what’s a library without its books? Who are you without her?

-----

🏷 : @007giu

[roger-that-cap]

what a lovely dream it is

english major!wanda x english major!fem!reader

summary: who would have thought that wanda, the self proclaimed queen of reading science fiction, would be just as obsessed with shakespeare as you? 

warnings: one use of the word “su*cide”. shakespeare. nerds quoting lines. bad writing. (i challenged myself into writing this in an hour and a half). cringey writing (there is a difference)

word count: 4k!

You and Wanda connected at first because you two spoke the same language from different regions. It felt like she spoke British English, and you spoke American English. You were on the same wavelength but not exactly the same individual wave, but it was as close as you had ever gotten with someone who you deemed worth your time. 

While everyone else was partying or drinking until they threw up or flaunting around bags with white powder in them, you sat with your back to the wall after studying, reading a classic, knowing that the change of her leaning against the same wall and doing the exact same thing you were was high. 

You met her in the library, on your third day at your university. You were trying to find your group of authors, your little nook where you would feel the safest in the entire school. You had stumbled right into the fantasy section, looked around for a second, and then tripped over a brown boot that was just at the start of the science fiction shelf. 

“I’m so sorry,” a woman’s voice murmured, and you just shook your head and said that it was okay, much more interested in the way that your hands suffered from the fall on the carpet than the girl. Until you looked up. 

It was everything about her that stunned you. The brown hair, the flush of her cheeks, the apologetic look in her pale blue eyes that caressed her features to sit in one beautiful and genuine expression. The moment your eyes landed on her, you swore that your heart stopped and started in the same second, and then took a run for it with all of the parts of your brain that you needed to make a coherent thought. 

 You promised yourself in that moment that you would never forget the way the woman in front of you looked. And despite seeing hundreds of more faces throughout your self-tour, you never truly did forget it. If you didn’t know any better, if you were perhaps any younger and less exposed to the cruelty of the world and fate and its way of not giving you what you wanted, you would have been certain that the universe had finally given you the contemporary meet cute that you yearned for. 

But then, you saw which aisle she was in. You looked at the books and recognized the authors just to be sure, and then you turned to look at her. “You’re into science fiction?” 

 Her apologetic look fell completely into a look of pure surprise, and then excitement, almost as if she thought that she found someone else who liked the genre she did. “Well, it’s the best genre that was ever written.” 

  “Wow, how wrong,” you found yourself saying, and somehow, you knew that the look of offense on her face was all for fun. “It’s definitely gothic literature.” The look she gave you was one that you would never forget. 

  A week later, you ran into her in the cafeteria, holding a copy of The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, your beat up one from home that you would put your life on the line for. The cover was torn up a bit and the pages were dog eared, from a time where you hadn’t discovered the way that bookmarks changed lives. It was the copy your cousin got you, and it was your favorite gift to date. 

  She was holding The Martian Chronicles. You nearly gagged. 

At first, you thought she hadn’t seen you, or hadn’t recognized you, which was even worse. You sighed under your breath and said, “at least it’s not Nineteen Eighty Four,” and watched in complete horror as she turned around. 

She locked eyes with you immediately, and her own eyes widened when she saw you, and then she grinned when she undoubtedly recognized you and your disdain for science fiction. “No, it’s even better than Nineteen Eighty Four.” 

“Anything is better than that,” you said, swallowing down your nerves at speaking to the girl again, kicking yourself for being so nervous despite not even knowing her name. 

She gave you that same “offended” look she gave you during your first interaction, and you cracked a small smile. “Um, don’t you voluntarily go into the gothic section?” 

The smile dropped. “The most valid section in the library? Sure do.” 

She smiled too, a genuine grin as she took a step forward and extended her hand. For a second, you just looked at it, the calmness that came with the discussion of literature suddenly washed away so far back into your mind that you panicked for a moment, not reaching for her hand until you saw it shake in just the slightest, like she was regretting even doing it. 

You nearly bumped your elbow on the table trying to stand up and shake her hand. Your hands connected and you grinned so wide it felt like your face had split open. You told her your name and she repeated it to make sure she had heard you loud and clear, and then, she smiled even brighter. 

“Nice to meet you, Dracula. I’m Wanda.” And that was where it started. 

As your library meetups started to become more intentional than not, you learned that not only was Wanda a student that stayed in the dorms, but the student who was next door to you. You learned that she pretty much kept to herself for the most part besides a few other people at the university, and that she kept a small circle. You learned that her favorite book was Brave New World. You learned that she would rather shy away from classic romance novels, even though you didn’t mind them, and that she hated gothic literature. You loved it. Your favorite book was The Picture of Dorian Gray, for god's sake. So, you hated each other’s favorite genres. 

  But you both loved symbolism. And you were both English majors. And for some very odd, very coincidental reason, you both met in what was nowhere near the middle- Shakespearean plays. 

  Now, that was something that you were always made fun of for as a child. No one wanted to hang out with the girl who quoted Shakespeare, especially if it wasn’t even from Romeo and Juliet. Reading normal books just made you look “smart”, but you knew that genuinely enjoying plays would make you look pretentious. So you had always kept it to yourself when you left your hometown. Until Wanda came along. 

Wanda came along, and suddenly, you found yourself quoting tragedies and getting the correct response back. Sometimes, she would even start it first. You would do nerdy things like halfway reenact scenes because even you guys weren’t that nerdy… you supposed. 

One morning, you and Wanda were in a study group (that was hardly productive because it was just Wanda’s little circle that was actually astoundingly close), and she looked over your shoulder to see your computer, where you were hardly typing an essay about the importance of the establishment of places for higher education. She put her chin against your shoulder, sat there for a minute, and then turned her head to whisper in your ear, “nothing will come of nothing.” It was embarrassing, the way your eyes lit up at hearing her voice, and even more so when Natasha, Wanda’s extremely perceptive friend, picked up on what you were feeling. The red head shot you the widest grin ever known to man. 

“C’mere, Frankenstein,” Wanda said one night, already looking over at you while you tried to finish your work for the day.

You held back the smile on your face as you sat on your bed, one leg over it while you typed. “I’m right here.” 

“No, here,” she emphasized, and then she was patting the spot on the small couch in your room, the same look in her eyes that always came with when she asked for any kind of physical contact. 

  That was by far the worst thing about Wanda, and it hardly had anything to do with her. She was touch starved, and touch was your love language. Her asking you to hold her on the couch used to mean nothing to you, because at one point, you just thought she was pretty. But now, holding her hand on top of the table while you both were submerged in your respective worlds felt like a promise ring. Letting her rest her head on your shoulder and in your neck felt like giving your vulnerability over to her, and feeling her hand rub against your back felt like she was taking it and guarding it. But you knew she didn’t feel the same way, not at all. 

She was straight. 

But it did you no good when she quoted back some of your favorite lines. It didn’t help when she said all of the romantic lines towards you at the drop of a hat, almost like she didn’t even realize what she was saying. She didn’t understand the way your heart died and was revived every time she said something like that, something that was so dear and vulnerable to you. And she certainly never would, because you would never tell her. 

Now that you thought about it, allowing yourself to fall for her was the dumbest and most destructive thing you could have ever done. The first bookworm who didn’t make fun of you for your knowledge and love of old plays was the one that took hold of your heart, and now you were paying for being such an idiot. Now you would have to sit through three more years of school with her being your friend, just your friend, while you pined over her. It was going to be hell.  

And was it. You had to sit through her saying the most romantic of Shakespearean quotes every day and act like she wasn’t making your heart shake. You had to listen to her speaking the language that you two shared and pretend that you just wanted to be her friend. You were so attached to her and everything that you two had established together, and you couldn’t ruin it by giving her googly eyes. She was way too important for that. Because now, she was way more than a person who you could talk to about old plays. She was the person that you could talk to about anything, without a doubt. Anything but the intense crush that you were harboring for her, and the way that she made your heart sing and your soul ascend whenever you smelled her perfume or saw her smile. Anything but that. 

§§

 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” You looked up from your book only to see Wanda looking over at you, lying down on the blanket and just watching you. You swore later on when you were alone that you imagined it, but for a moment you could have sworn that you saw a flash of adoration in her eyes. “Thou art more lovely and more temperate.” 

You were choking on the inside. Your face was blank, but your mind was going haywire, and you couldn't think of anhytnign besides holding back the urge to say something that you had no chance of taking back. “You’re in a sonnet mood today, aren’t you?” 

“And what mood are you in today, Jekyll?” 

“I’m in the mood to finish this book,” you teased, and she rolled her eyes. 

“What if I’m in the mood to sit and watch a movie?” 

“Then you should do it,” you said, going the way your heart clenched at the thought of her cutting your friendly outing short. “I’ll follow you in an hour or two.”

She gave you a look. “You know I don’t go anywhere without you.”  

“You can go watch a movie, Wands.” You sighed out, closing your book and wedging your pointer finger between the pages so that you wouldn't get lost. 

 “I’ll wait,” she said, and you shook your head at her. 

“I don’t want to hold you back from getting in time with your favorite sci fi movies.”

“Can I go forward when my heart is here?”  

You were hit with such a wave of longing that you had to shut your eyes for a moment, but it looked like it was simply a long blink. “You’re so cheesy.” 

“I want to hear one,” Wanda said, leaning on her elbows as she stared up at you, and your heart pounded. She looked celestial, glowing under the sunlight with growing grass around her and a sweet smile budding on her face. “You never quote any back to me anymore, you know?” 

You knew, for sure. It was on purpose that you didn’t quote back. If you were to continue the conversation in romantic quotes, it was going to feel way too real to you. You could handle Wanda and her touches, but you were not going to be able to handle quoting Romeo and Juliet to her. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled softly, and then you heard her make a sound with her tongue, a displeased clicking noise.

  You looked up at her and lost your breath again, and your mental footing. There she was, looking up at you with her pretty eyes, giving you a look more intense than she had ever given you before. She was… it was almost like she was waiting for something, like she knew something. She was staring up at you and leaning on her hand in a way that was so oddly domestic in your mind, and you could almost see in your mind the way that she would do that if you woke up in the same bed, like she was waiting for you to wake up and trying to memorize your face. It made you warm on the inside, and just like she always managed to do, your brain turned to mush. 

“Conscience doth make cowards of us all,” you blurt, and you saw her brows pull in for a second. You blinked. 

  “Huh?” 

You were panicking on the inside. There were plenty of ways that she could have taken the quote that you had chosen, but you knew exactly what it sounded like. A half assed love confession. “You know, from Hamlet,” 

“Of course I know it’s from Hamlet, Jekyll.” She shook her head at you and sat up, crossing her legs without breaking eye contact. “But why that quote? You know so many, and you chose the one about death.” 

Unfortunately, it’s death by silence in this context, not by swords. “You said you wanted to hear a line,” you said, shrugging as you opened your book, trying to get rid of the embarrassment that you knew would stick to you for hours and hours. 

 “What a line,” she said, and then she rolled over to look up at the sky. Minutes later, you heard her sigh. “What a line.” 

§§

Romeo + Juliet was a classic for your movie night. At first, Wanda showed it to you after you boycotted it for years, despite your male celebrity crush being one of the main characters in it. You had always avoided watching because of the modernism, but one Wanda made you sit down and watch it, you actually found good things about it. For instance, the party scene. 

  “It was done wonderfully,” Wanda would always say from beside you after your extremely predictable comment of the scene being a masterpiece. 

Like always, there were a few moments of silence as you two watched the movie together, shoulder to shoulder on the small couch in your dorm while your roommate was off getting high. You watched the rest of it in near silence, halfway focused on the movie while the other part of your mind was split in two; feeling blessed that Wanda was even there with you, soclose, and feeling cursed that she was so close but so far. It was the perfect moment to hold her close like you wanted to so badly, but the timing wasn’t right. And that killed you. 

“Do you ever think about how they fell in love so fast?” Wanda asked, and you shrugged your shoulders. “I’d say that they were encroaching on soulmate territory.” 

“Soulmates, or foolish teenagers?” 

“I hardly know of any teenagers who would die for each other, even if they thought they were in love,” Wanda pointed out, and you rolled your eyes at her. “Don’t give me that face. I’m right, and you know it.” 

“I’ll always let you believe it, sci fi.” 

“But, really, don’t you ever want something like that?” 

You turned your face from the screen and looked at her incredulously, like she had gone mad while completing the process of growing three heads. “A suicide pact?” 

She groaned and threw her head back. “No. A love like that. Take away the death and violence, and look at what they had.” 

“It bloomed too quickly to have much potential later in life,” you countered. “That was infatuation, and that never lasts long.”

“You think that they both died for infatuation?”

“I think that they were young, and it’s hard to tell the difference between love and infatuation at any age, let alone as a teenager. I think they thought they loved each other to the ends of the earth, but I guess they’ll never know.” 

“You’re so cynical. Just like a person whose favorite is gothic literature.” You laughed, leaning forward towards her without even noticing what you were doing. “Do you believe in love?” 

“Of course I do,” you answered, giving her a look. “I’m just saying, Romeo and Juliet were not in true love. They were confused.” 

Then, the playful air that the conversation was flowing on changed so quickly that you nearly got whiplash and your heart started racing. The way Wanda was looking at you sent a chill down your spine, and in that moment, you were worried. “Are you confused?” 

You took in a breath. “About what?” 

“About anything,” she said slowly, almost like she felt like she was walking on thin ice with skates on. “Books, people, love, food, sexuality,” she ignored the way that you choked, “writing a paper, how to get  a strike in bowling. Or how to realize that Romeo and Juliet were definitely in love.” 

“You’re so intent on proving that they were to me,” you said, a laugh bubbling over and into your words. “Why are you suddenly so passionate about them now?” 

“The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.” 

Your heart jumped out of your chest again, and your hands clenched into weak  fists as you tried to will yourself into not assuming that she was talking about you. And then, white hot panic struck you at the thought of her being in love with someone else. “Speak low if you speak of love.” 

“Why should I?” Wands asked, shifting from her position on the couch to put a hand under her chin and watch you, her kind eyes afire with something that you had yet to see in them yet. “Really, Jekyll. Why?”

You hardly waited a full second before responding as truthfully as you ever would. “I’m afraid.” Before she could get a word in, you shook your head and finally loosened your lips, letting all of your worries and fears slide right through your teeth. “I’m afraid that I’ve fallen in love with someone who can never love me back. I’m scared to admit that I’ve been in love with you for a long time.  I’m afraid that you aren’t into girls.” You saw her make a face, almost like she couldn't believe that you were even suggesting the things that you were. “I don’t quote Shakespeare to you anymore because it feels too real to have you say lines like that back to me. I think that I’ve latched onto you without even meaning to, and now I don’t know if I can ever let you go.” 

Wanda was silent. She was watching you, as quietly as the sun hovered over the earth while she shone her light. Your heart had never beat so fast before as you watched her watch you with a face so blank that you were sure that she hadn’t retained a damn thing that you pulled from the depths of your heart. Then, the daunting thought that she had heard and understood everything but chose not to act swallowed you whole, and your hands started to shake. You gave a humorless laugh and finally looked away from the woman who had raised your spirits and crushed them all within five minutes. “I’m sorry. I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?” 

“I’m so sorry.” You repeated, shaking your head and closing your eyes for a second as hot tears burned in them. When they opened, a fat tear sappetered onto your hand. I’m such an idiot. You looked to the screen, and then saw Romeo screaming, on the ground, and you could hear the words even though your ears were rushing with blood. I defy you, stars. “You don't have to say anything back, I know you don’t feel the same.” Your eyes pulled away from the screen. “I can leave- wait, um, this is my dorm. I-” 

“Doubt thou the stars are fire,” Wanda started slowly, and your brows furrowed as you heard the words fall from her lips. Fuck. You knew what this ended with, and still, you couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.”

Your eyes were wide by the end of it, watery and fixed on her. “W-what?” 

“How could you not have known?” Wanda asked softly, and you but your lip to stop from bursting into tears. 

“I thought you were straight!” You accused, and to your surprise, she laughed. 

“No, sweetheart.” Your heart stuttered. “I’m not.” 

Your breathing was still slightly heavy as you tried to get a  grip on everything that was happening. “You… you feel the same way?” 

“Of course I do, Jekyll.” She said, and you found yourself falling for her expressive eyes all over again as she stared up at you.  You reached your hand out experimentally, like she did the second time you ever met, and you waited that torturous moment for her to take your hand in a way that was much different than all the other times you shared a touch. This touch was the moment of truth.

She took your hand, kissed your knuckles, and put your palm on her cheek. 

“The very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly to your service.” 

“This can’t be anything but a dream,” you murmured, feeling her cheek in your hand and the way they were warm and flushed. The softness was bringing you in and out of your head, and every time you went back to reality, you were thrusted into a little sliver of paradise. 

“Well, what a lovely dream it is, then.” Her lips found yours. The movie played on, the clock kept its incessant ticking, and your leg was starting to tingle from sitting on it in the same position for so long. But to you, time absolutely stopped. And as long as a particular science fiction nerd was in front of you, nothing that ticked or clicked or buzzed was ever going to matter. 

*******

i said i wasn’t going to post this, but i did it anyway!! hope you guys enjoyed this fic!! it was a lot of fun to write but it also made me mad nervous LMAO let’s hope this wasn’t absolute dogshit

@teenwonder i know you said you wanted a tag on my stuff so here it is, love!! 💕💕

[alltheficsiwant]

Here We Go Again | Epilogue

Epilogue | Best Made Plans

Summary: After the events of July, everybody went through changes of plans as they accommodate the new chapter of finally having the upside down completely close. Now as they look to the future, they make that camping trip come true.

Warnings: Mentions of broken families and separation. If these are triggering, please read with CAUTION. Also, there is a LOT OF FLUFF and A LITTLE SPICYYYYY. ;)

Words: 4k

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader ; Nancy Wheeler x Jonathan Byers

Author's Note: Hello everyone! THIS IS IT. This is the last part. :) Thank you for everyone who had joined me on this journey. I am grateful to everyone. So as a thank you, I added a little spicy on the end though its not the FULL ON SPICY (I haven't really wrote something. I'm--- just--- shy?) But I hope you guys like.

Again! Thank you everyone. Though if you have thoughts and questions. I'm happy for you to tell through my asks! :D Its open and just send things there or anything at all (no hate please).

This is unedited! I apologize for any errors from the spelling and the grammar. :) ENJOY - J xxxx

Part EIGHT | Prequel | Masterlist

Three Months Later…

You can hear Max and Lucas singing too enthusiastically at Dustin who was near one of the tents they are trying to set up. Teasing him about his song with Suzie at the radio. Dustin just tries to ignore them or on occasion throws a finger at them. The couple just continues as they set up another tent.

You watched them fondly, specifically Max as she was all smiles at the moment. Different from July. After the funeral, it has been hard for Neil, Sarah and Max. They struggled until a few weeks later, Neil left. Max and her mom had to move and they found themselves in the same trailer park with Eddie.

You were there all throughout. Sarah thanking you for helping them and supporting Max. Max at the same time, tried to close herself off. She didn’t want to talk about Billy but one night, when you told her that you would be staying at Eddie’s just in case she needs you. She came knocking at 3 am in the morning and cried her heart out.

You just listened. Apparently, Billy had improved since the incident between the two of you. Max said that you were the one who was able to get through Billy’s head. He tried to prove himself. He tried to be good but the Mind Flayer got him. All you can feel is regret and you just hope that you could have done more. You should have observed him more. After all, he kept coming to you yet you didn’t do anything.

Instead, you became Max’s confidante more than Lucas. Who she tried to push away for a while. It was Eddie who talked to her about that which made Eddie her other confidante when it comes to Lucas. You were fine by that. After all, you aren’t exactly good with feelings.

Slowly, Max came back to herself or as much as she could until she learned El will be moving. She was sad for a while but you assured her that she would be fine. She still has the others.

You can’t help but look over at El.

She, Mike and Will are doing their best to set up another one. Though something was a bit off at El. Her movements are timid and slow. You even caught her staring hard at something at one of the tent pieces before she huffed and reached down for it instead. 

She lost her powers. Everybody knew that. After the events, Dr. Owens assessed Eleven’s state and came to a conclusion that she lost her powers. Eleven took it hard. After losing her home, Hopper and now her powers. She fears she has nothing left. 

Joyce, bless her soul, decided to take her into her family after the funeral held for the people who died Though the catch, they had to move to California. Far away from Hawkins, so that the Mind Flayer would not attempt to go out the third time around. Owens made sure that the lab was sealed off and everything was shut. There is no way now to reopen it.

The decision for the Byers together with Eleven hit the group with sadness. It was crying galore as the decision was made for the safety of everyone involved.

That is where Eddie sprung up the idea of this camping trip. A farewell of some sorts for the Byers and El. They all agreed.

Now here they are, trying to make the most of what's left of summer before fall comes.

“Hey Sweetheart,” An arm wrapped around your waist from behind. You jumped a bit, still a little sensitive since July but you ease back against the familiar chest. You leaned your head to the side, baring your neck to Eddie who swiftly swooped down to kiss it. Before he hooked his chin over your shoulder to watch everybody setting up the camp.

“Have you brought the booze for the adults later?” You asked and you felt Eddie nod.

“Yup, also bought the things we need for S’mores,” He mentioned and you gasped to look at him with wide eyes. Excitement filling them.

“You bought the big marshmallow ones?” You asked as you turned around in his arms and threw yours around his shoulder. You stood at your tiptoes as Eddie met you halfway.

“Extra large,” he mused before he crashed his lips against yours. You giggle through the kiss as he continues to describe the mallows he had bought in detail.

“It also has less sugar. The kids would not be running around later tonight,”

“They better be, we need adult time,” You said not thinking of your words but Eddie who caught raised his brows at that.

“Adult time huh? Are we moving to that stage already, Spitfire?” He teased and when it finally clicked to you. You gasp and hit your shoulder softly making him laugh.

“We have kids around Eds,” You told him and Eddie just looked at you shocked.

“So, if the kids aren’t around—”

“Stop being a perv,” you moaned out as you fought the smile that was threatening to come out. You were trying to be stern but seeing Eddie’s mischievous eyes and playful smirk always get to you.

“You love me,” He just said with a shrug and you sobered a bit as you reached up to hold his face. You placed another kiss on his lips, soft and slow before you pulled away. Leaving him a bit dazed as you ran your tongue against your lips tasting him.

“Yeah I do,” Eddie can’t help but laugh as he leaned again to kiss you more. The two of you lost in your own world until you heard a groan.

“Oh come on! I just turned around for five minutes and you guys are making out?!” You and Eddie broke apart to see Steve standing there with a hand on his hip. A towel hangs on his shoulder with a stern look on his face.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” You teased and he just rolled his eyes at you as he brought the bags he was holding on the other hand to the table near the two of you two.

“Can you both please keep your hands off each other for a minute and help me set up. We have a camping to do,”

After everybody went to work, it was already dark out when the group settled around a campfire that Jonathan and Nancy had set up. You all just finished dinner and are currently utilizing the fire to make S’mores. Dustin and Will are off the side, declaring that they will be making epic S’mores. Lucas and Max are cuddled up while they roast some while Mike and El fumble their way through the making of it.

Nancy and Jonathan opted out of it as they took a six pack, choosing to have an alone time. While you are tempted to do that, you know the couple needs that after all Jonathan will be moving to California.

Robin and Steve are conversing. Apparently, the two went job hunting and they were hired by Family Video. Thanks to Robin’s quick thinking. You are sitting on a big lounging chair that Eddie bought so that he could have you seated on his lap with your back against his chest.

It was filled with chatter until suddenly Dustin stood up clearing his throat. He caught everyone’s attention as they all stopped doing what they were doing.

“Thank you,” Dustin said as he noticed all eyes were on him. “I know we are here guys to celebrate and also make the most of our time with each other,” Dustin trailed off looking at Will and then at Eleven.

“I just want to say that even though we lost some, I’m happy that all of us are safe and it's over,” Dustin mumbled as he looked down at his feet while he fiddled with his hands. “And even if our group was only brought upon by the upside down. It won’t end here,” Dustin declared.

“He’s right,” Mike spoke up as they looked back at him. “And even if Will and El would be leaving, we are all going to remain friends,”

“That’s what friends are for right?” Max chimed in as everyone agreed.

“Woah, us included?” Steve suddenly spoke up as they looked at him.

“Yeah, despite you guys being old,” A lot of protest came from the four of you while Dustin snickered. “You guys made sure we were safe and risked your lives for us.”

“And for that we thank you,” El muttered as she looked at everyone until her eyes landed on you.

You smiled as you leaned against and snuggled on Eddie’s chest. “You guys are always welcome at the house,” You offered.

“Hey! That’s my house too,” Steve protested. “Besides these kids would just run amok there,”

You just narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t pretend you hate them Mom,” The group laughed at Steve’s affronted face.

“Let’s toast then,” Robin suddenly stood up holding her S’mores. “To friendship,”

Everybody scrambled to their feet as they picked up their own S’mores and smiled. “To friendship!”

Later that evening, as the kids settled down. Eddie went for a smoke while Robin herded the kids. You and Steve were left to clean. 

You were busy collecting cans when you heard Steve calling your name. You look up to see him staring at you.

“What?” You asked you as you continue your tasks though you are still listening to him.

“We haven’t really talked about what you did with the kids. They told me what happened to the Cabin,” He muttered.

Right, Steve has been trying to talk to you about that night and you avoided him because you have nothing to say really. You were doing it because you wanted everyone safe. You wanted to do something for them.

“You would have done the same,” You just muttered trying to dismiss the topic. You finished up your task as you looked up at Steve who was shaking his head.

“Yes, but hearing their stories. You didn’t have to do all those things okay? You were helping enough,” Steve reasoned as you just looked away from him. “You could have hold on for a second more,”

“Steve—”

“Listen to me,” His sharp tone made you look at him as his face turned serious. He dropped whatever he was holding to walk to you.

 “I don’t want this bullshit of you playing a hero. Especially when I’m not there. Do you know how helpless I feel wishing I was there instead of going through a Russian base camp? It's exactly what I felt about Utah,” Steve started as he looked at you. Tears springing in his eyes. “I nearly lost you at UTAH, where I could have done something. I don’t want to have to go through the regret of not being with you this time. I don’t want to hear the story of me nearly losing you.  I want to be there to stop it from even being a story. You are my family. Hell, the only family that is there for me for once and not off to some business trip.”

You stared at him. You didn’t know that. You and Steve never really delved on what he felt. 

“You can’t protect me from everything—”

“Then I will protect you on what I can protect you from,” Steve cut you off. “So, the next thing like this happens. You stick by my side or follow Eddie’s lead,”

“Eddie’s lead?”

“Yes, because he might not have been a hero type of man but for you he is and I like that his first instinct is to run and most of the time. I recommend that,”

You can’t help but laugh at the sudden show of trust to Eddie. All throughout the relationship, he and Eddie are kind of in the middle line of being friends and being a pain in the ass for each other.

“Promise me this time, give me your word. No playing hero. You run, you run. You got it?”

You stared at Steve for a while before you nodded. “I got it,”

“Good, now C’mere,” He opened his arms and you quickly walked into it hugging him to you. The both of you stayed like that until someone cleared their throat.

You both turned to see Jonathan and Nancy are back. Standing there timidly.

“Umm, we are here to help clean,” Nancy said. Steve let you go as he looked everywhere but them.

“Sure,” you said to her and gave her a smile. 

“I’ll go check on Robin,” Steve said and offered them a smile before he turned to you. He gave ‘yikes’ face before he wandered off calling for his friend.

Jonathan picked up on Steve’s task while Nancy walked towards you.

“You okay?” You asked quietly as you glanced at Jonathan who walked away a bit before looking back at Nancy.

“Yeah, we talked.” She mumbled to you as she started to clean up the food you guys had consumed. You do that same as you picked up the bag where the cans were.

“And?” You trailed off as you glanced at her.

“We will be okay,” Nancy smiled as she looked back at Jonathan. “I love him but his family needs him now more than ever,”

You nodded and reached out to pat her back. “You’ll be fine,”

“Thanks,” with that the two of you went back to work. A couple more minutes and you all finished cleaning. Eddie had helped at the last few. Robin hand wandered off to the tent where El and Max were. She will be bunking with them while Steve will be bunking with Dustin. 

Jonathan and Nancy have a tent a little away from the kids. You on the other hand trusted Eddie to set it up.

“Where is our tent?” You asked as Eddie took your hand and guided you to the same path towards where the van is parked. 

“Ummm, I kind of left our tent intentionally at my trailer—”

“Eddie!” You started as the scolding is by the tip of your tongue. For the love that is holy and high, how are the two of you going to– “Oh,” you stopped short as Eddie hastily walked over as the Van came into view then opened the back of it without any preamble.

His arms opened wide with a gesture of a silent “ta-da!” as he looked over at you. His smile is sheepish but his eyes tell otherwise.

“I made the Van as our tent,” he explained as you stared at it. It was far from the previous set up. It looked like those vans that are converted into a house. It has deck with a bed on it that probably fit the two of you. It has the fairy lights still and the familiar carpet that you sit with him when you are both hang out at the lover's lake. There are book shelves and counters. Then a fan can be seen inside. It was completely different.

He told you it was faulty but he apparently had other plans. For the past week, he had been hitching a ride with you on your motorbike. Claiming that the Van is being fixed by Jaeger since he was back in town almost two months ago. You didn’t think any of it. It was a moving deathtrap and with a reckless driver like Eddie, it's bound to malfunction from time to time. At least Jaeger would have told Eddie if it was still deemed to be driven.

You actually came in at the campsite riding along Steve and Robin. So, it was the first time you saw the Van again.

“Are these the repairs you are telling me about?” You asked as you pieced together everything and Eddie nodded as he looked inside with a grin.

“Yes, I had Jaeger's help with lighting and all but I converted it into a camping van. You know? When we go on trips– and oh!” Eddie suddenly said as he took your hand and dragged you to the side of the Van. A metal railing was clipped on the side. You stared at it confused.

“What is it?”

“A motorbike railing. You know, so that we can still have the motorbike with us when we do trips,”

You blinked at Eddie before you turned your head back to the railing and the van. Trips? What does he mean—

Eddie must have seen your confusion and decided to speak up again.

“Ugh, right, I forgot to fucking ask you— so stupid Eddie—” Eddie cleared his throat as he looked at you. “Would you like maybe, go on a trip with me? You know like drive from several town and just sight see,”

You stared at him a bit overwhelmed. He made plans on a road trip for just the two of you? But–

“Your school, you have school Eddie. You still need—”

“I know! This is not yet finished. I still need to add some features to make it livable but,” he trailed off as he looked everywhere but you. “I was hoping this is a motivation for me– to you know, graduate. Have something to look forward to,” He mumbled.

You swallowed as you took a step forward to him. Your eyes now trained to him and not the van.

“You want to go on road trip with me?” You asked again and Eddie nodded.

“Of course sweetheart. No one else, just you.” Eddie said as he looked back at you hopeful. You bit your lip.

Trying to go through the emotions you are feeling right now.

Elation, because you have been hoping for something. Anything, really. To make you finally decide what you wanted to do in the future. Taking a gap year, you thought it would be wise to just get a job and all but you knew deep down it wouldn’t help you decide. You haven’t explored any options really. Now Eddie is giving you an option. To explore with him.

Hope, that when the school year comes, Eddie will graduate. You think this is the best motivation he could have. You two can take a break for a moment before you both jump in the reality of being fully adults.

Lastly, Love. You knew you are so fucking in love with Eddie Munson because for your whole life nobody really cared to add you to their plans (Except Steve, he’s the best cousin you can ask for). Hearing Eddie having— making plans that you are included makes you love him more. Finally, you belong — with him.

“Okay,” you quietly responded. Just like on the night he first said he loves you. When Eddie heard that he perked up, the cloud in his eyes cleared up and he now looks at you with a smile on his face.

“Okay?” Eddie asked again and you nodded. He let out a whoop before he ran to you to lift you in his arms. You squealed as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and your legs around his waist as he twirled you around.

After that, he started to pepper your face with kisses. From you cheeks to your eyelids, to your brows and everywhere except your lips making you giggle.

“Eddie!” You squealed but instead of stopping he dived in and kissed you on the lips. You still for a moment before you melted in his arms as the two of you kissed. You don’t know how long the two of you did just that. You up in his arms as both of your lips moved softly. Savoring each other in the last week of summer.

Though as the kiss progressed, Eddie moved blindly until he set you over the made up bed at the back of the van. Once his hands were free, he had one cupped cheek while the other pulled you flushed against his body. Not leaving any space behind as he stood between your legs.

You can’t help but feel your body go hot as he did that. Your arms tightened around his shoulders as your hand went through his curls. Scratching his scalp that elicited a groan from Eddie. You heard him inhale sharply through his nose and pulled away abruptly. Making you chase his lips but he didn’t make you wait as he tilted his head and he guided yours the way he wanted to plunge back in.

His kiss became heavier and harder making you groan in return. Then you felt his tongue on the bottom of your lip asking for entrance. Your grip on his hair tightened before you opened your mouth.

This time, Eddie moaned as your shy tongue met his. Your lips danced with each other until you can’t help but squeeze your thighs and heat started to pool between them. That made Eddie groan and bucked his hips accidentally brushing something hard against your stomach. That made you gasp and froze for a bit.

When Eddie felt that, the kiss ended abruptly as he pulled away. A trail of saliva connected both of your lips as you stared at him wide-eyed. The two of you are breathing hard.

“Shit!” Eddie exclaimed as he started to pull away. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I got carried—”

“Eddie,” You quietly breathed out as your thighs tightened around his hips and pulled him to you. This time the unmistakable bulge on his pants met your core as you guide him to lean his forehead against you. Eddie involuntarily bucked his hips making you moan.

“Baby what are you doing?”

“I-I just,” you stuttered out. The two of you have not been in this kind of position. Every time the make out sessions get a bit heated. It's usually Eddie who stops this just like now and you always let him but this time. This time, you don’t want it to stop. You want it with him.

You planned to do it with him anyway but you thought you would never be ready. Until the events of July happened and you knew that you cannot make the two of you wait that long. Besides if he is making plans for next year, he is in it for a long run and so are you. 

“I love you,” you blurted out and you felt him relax a bit in your arms as he caressed your face. You leaned against his palm. Your bodies still flushed together and your foreheads kissing. “You making plans with me in them. It made me realize that I love you so damn much and I want to do everything. Everything with you.”

“Oh baby,” Eddie mumbled as he leaned down to lay a soft kiss against your lips. The both of you softly kissed for a while before you pulled away.

“And I want this—”You grinded your heated core against the bulge on his pants making him groan. “With you Eddie,”

You saw Eddie swallowed as he closed his eyes as if trying to regulate his thoughts but you didn’t want him to think anymore. You want it now.

“A-are you sure baby? B-because this might be in the moment—”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off as you make him look at you. “I’m sure Eddie, make love to me please?”

Eddie shakily breathed out as he looked down at you. His eyes shining with love as he smiled.

“I love you,” is all he said and as you said those words back. He dived in determined to make this the best night of your life.

That night, Eddie made love to you for the first time. He was so careful, asking questions and making sure you are not having panic attacks.

You didn’t because you knew you were in the arms of the person who wouldn’t hurt and your mind solely focused on the fact that for the next few days. You, him and everyone else are safe.

You pray to God or to whoever it is high above. That you will remain that way for a long long time.

The End…

[avintagekiss24]

APPEARANCES || FRANK ADLER

pairing: Frank Adler x black!reader || word count: 5,898 || warnings: smut, sex, slight ass play, a little bit of dirty talk, swearing || request: your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere during a downpour and Frank comes to you rescue 

authors note: fic number #2 for the 4k celebration! this was requested by @stargazingfangirl18​! hope you like, babe! line divider by @firefly-graphics​​!

“Uncle Frank, where are you?”

You smile gently as Mary’s words hit your ears. You send your eyes towards her as she talks on your phone, pacing slowly, her little fingers playing with the hem of her Girls Scout vest. You hear a deep, muffled voice on the other end and turn your eyes back to the laptop in your lap, continuing to tap away at the keys.

“Okay, okay… yes… no… okay… I will… okay, bye.” She plops down next to you, holding out her hand containing your phone,  “He’s on his way. He said thanks for sitting with me.”

You wave her off, winking, “I owe you for all the help you’ve given me this semester.”

The young blonde leans over, placing her hands on your lap as she starts to read the dissertation you’re working on. She pushes some of her blonde hair out of her face as she mumbles, “This is good, except you forgot the negative here… and you need to carry the two here.” She says, pointing to the screen.

You tilt your head and squint your eyes, rereading your work quickly before you shake your head as a slow smile creeps on your face, “Shit.”

Mary looks back at you and smiles widely before leaning back over in her spot, “Can I play Angry Birds on your phone?”

“Well, I owe you again for telling me to carry this two, so yes,” you laugh as you delete the last two lines of your work to start treworking the problem, correctly this time, but you can’t get your fingers to move. You glance down the hallway as students in the small college building move about and spot the vending machine - your stomach rumbling as if on queue, “You want some chips or something, Mary?” you ask, grabbing your purse.

“Doritos please,” She answers, not looking up from your phone, “And a coke.”

You laugh a little as you stand, “Your Uncle is gonna kill me.”

“No he won’t, that’s what he had for breakfast this morning.”

“Wow,” You laugh, shaking your head as you start for the machine, “Don’t move, please.”

You move to the vending machine, pulling out your debit card and swiping it before tapping on the Doritos for Mary and the Cheetos for yourself. You pay for two cokes, (you’ve already ruined your diet with the Cheetos, might as well go all out) and turn on your heel to head back to your seat by the front doors. Just as you're handing the snacks to Mary, the doors open, a cool gust of wind washing over the two of you.

“Finally,” Mary says, rolling her eyes as she stands, “You’re late Uncle Frank.”

“I know it, I know.” He starts, running his hands through his damp hair, “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Mary asks, scrunching her face at him before she turns her attention back to you, “Thank you for the chips and the coke.”

“You’re very welcome. I’ll see you Monday, study buddy?” You ask, raising your hand for a high five.

The little monster slaps your hand with hers, her toothy grin stretching across her face, “You got it.”

“Thank you for sitting with her,” Frank says, glancing up at you as he helps her with her backpack, “And for feeding her.”

You wave him off as you pack up your own bag, “It’s no problem. She’s literally the only reason I’m passing this class, so I can certainly sit with her for fifteen or twenty minutes here and there.”

He smiles at you and you smile back at him, diverting your eyes after a few seconds. You don’t have time for hot uncles. Especially hot, tan uncles who work on boat engines for a living that wear loose Hawaiian button downs and old, dirty jeans. You certainly don’t have time in your life for hot uncles whose bicep muscles flex softly as he puts his nieces backpack on her shoulders.  Nope, you definitely don’t have time for hot, slightly grumpy uncles.

“You be careful out there, the rain is supposed to get worse for the rest of the night.”

“Thanks,” you say, unable to wipe the stupid smile off your face as Frank and Mary move towards the front door, “You too.”

He smiles again as he pushes open the door for the little human, “See you Monday.”

You lift your hand, wiggling your fingers a little as they push out into the wind and the rain. You watch as they run towards his old truck, Frank throwing open the passenger door for her before he slams it shut once she’s in. He jogs around the front of the trunk and then peels out of the parking lot, leaving you standing there, staring out of the glass doors like an idiot. You sigh - you really wish you had time for hot ass uncles.

You throw your messenger bag over your shoulder and grab your math book, holding it over your head as you push through the threshold of the doors out into the rain. You jog towards your old - and when you say old, you mean old. Your baby has two hundred thousand miles on her, a wonky tail light that sometimes comes on and sometimes doesn’t, and a passenger side window that doesn’t roll down all the way, but she’s always done right by you; until recently. You just need her to hold on for a few more weeks - until your dad comes down to visit his favorite girl and shell out a downpayment for a new car.

You toss the heavy math book into the passenger seat and dumb your bag onto the floor board before you put the key in the ignition and turn. It takes a minute, but the engine finally turns over and you pull out of the parking lot to head home - but you should stop by the store because you know you’re not going to want to do it later.

You groan as you slow to a stop at the intersection, cutting your eyes towards the Whole Foods to your left, and then the Taco Bell that sits on the corner to the right. God, a Mexican pizza sounds good… a Mexican pizza, Warrior Nun, and your couch sounds even better. A car honks behind you, startling you out of your daze, and you quickly take a left, heading towards the Whole Foods. Your scale will thank you later.

----

You waste longer than you intend in the Whole Foods and by the time you’re finished, it's pouring outside. Being the responsible adult that you are, you of course left your umbrella at home. So, of course, you and your groceries are soaked by the time you get them into the backseat and you get yourself back behind the wheel. You huff, pushing your wet, soon to be frizzy hair out of your face before slamming your key back into the ignition.

“Come on baby,” you whisper, “Come on, come on.”

After a few more prayers, it turns over, the heat (which is about the only thing that works the way it should) blasting over your chilled body. You rub your hands together quickly, eyeing the Taco Bell as Linkin Park blasts through the speakers. You’re soaked, starving, and no thanks to the thoughts of hot ass uncles and their stupid Hawaiian shirts, suddenly super horny - you deserve a Mexican pizza… and a chalupa… and some nacho fries… and a Baja Blast.

----

Your mood has improved greatly as the smell of tacos fill your nostrils. You tap along to the loud metal music blasting from the speakers as rain pelts down on your car. Ten more minutes and you’ll be home, in your pajamas, stuffing your face - this day can finally end.

Your car jerks suddenly, violently. Lights start flashing on the dash, the gauges pushing into the red as the car starts to die.

“Fuck!” You shout as you grip the wheel tightly, your eyes going wide, your heart starting to pound as you steer the car into the grass.

It rolls for a while before it finally comes to a stop. You turn the key, and hear nothing but clicks, “Shit,” you mumble, turning the key again and pumping the gas pedal, praying that it’ll start up, “Please, please, please.”

Click, click, click.

“Don’t do this to me!” You whine, turning the key again.

Click, click, click.

The lights on the dash flash again, the radio starts, the heat starts to blast, “Yes!” You squeal, bouncing in your seat.

It dies again.

You celebrated too soon.

“Fuck!”

You turn the key again.

No clicks.

No nothing.

You slam your head back into the seat and let your arms fall to your sides. Fuck. You sigh heavily and reach into the backseat, fumbling around until you feel your purse and pull it into your lap. You pull out your phone and tap the screen, but it stays black. You tap again, and then again, but nothing happens. You push the side button and groan when the red battery flashes across the screen. Of course. Of fucking course.

You throw the dead phone into the passenger seat and open your door, running around to the front of the car. You pop the hood, grunting and cursing as the heavy, hard rain drops down on you. Once the hood is up, you just stare at the engine. You don’t even know what you’re looking at, let alone what you should be looking for.

You tug on a few wires, push on the battery, you know, to make sure it’s in its place or whatever, wipe away old, wet leaves - but you’re completely lost, out of ideas and out of your element… in the middle of a downpour, with a dead phone. Just your luck.

A car drives by, splashing the puddled rainwater up onto you as you stand huddled under the hood. You slam your eyes closed, sucking your teeth before you count to ten, trying not to shout obscenities. You hear another car coming and naturally shift over a few feet to avoid being splashed again. A truck zooms past, but you hear it slow down within seconds. You peek over the hood as the truck comes to a complete stop and then is put in reverse. You’re half grateful but also half afraid - it is Florida.

“I thought that was you,” You hear a familiar voice call to you before a door opens and slams shut, “What happened?”

Relief floods over you as none other than Frank Adler, hottie McUncle pants, jogs towards you and joins your side, “God, I don’t know!” you whine, “I was driving home and it just stopped.”

“Let me take a look,” he mumbles more to himself than to you as he starts tugging and pushing on random wires, “Does it click or no, when you try and start it.”

“It was clicking, but now it’s not.”

He grunts a little, “Sounds like it’s probably the battery and the starter. When’s the last time you got an oil change?” You glance towards the sky, scrunching your face as you try and remember, “That’s too long to go without an oil change.” he chuckles, “I can get you fixed up, but not in all of this rain. Can I give you a lift somewhere?”

“No, I can’t - I can’t ask you to do that, I’ve taken enough of your time already and now you’re all soaked and,”

“I’m not gonna leave you in the rain,” he smirks, “Come on.”

“No, no, really! I can call somebody.” You lie, knowing good and damn well your phone is beyond dead. He scoffs, grabbing your hand, “I mean it, I have a backseat full of groceries!”

He pulls you into the street, opening the passenger side door to his truck and helps you in before he jogs back to your car. You watch as he grabs all of your groceries, all of them, in one hand at that, before he jogs back to his truck, opening the door again and depositing them at your feet. He runs back to your car, grabbing your backpack, purse, and your Taco Bell, before he jogs back to the truck, this time climbing into the drivers side.

“Frank,” you start, laughing nervously, “You really don’t have to do this. Really.”

“Don’t worry about it. I owe you anyway, for watching Mary whenever I’m running late.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Not really, but okay. I live off of Ventura.”

“Ventura?” He says as he pulls off, flipping a u-turn, “That’s like fifteen minutes from here. You can chill at my place, get cleaned up, eat your food, then hopefully the rain will have let up and I can come back and change out the battery.”

His place? You swallow hard. This is not how you’ve elaborately daydreamed about finally being alone with Frank Adler, “You don’t have to do that, I’m sure you and Mary have plans.”

“Nah,” he says absentmindedly as he drives, “She stays with Roberta on Friday nights. It’ll just be you and me.”

Great. Now you don’t even have a buffer. You tap your fingers nervously against your knees as you stare out the windshield, your mind - and heart - suddenly racing. You clear your throat and glance over at him, which is a bad idea. His skin is damp, his loose dark gray t-shirt - now soaked - sticking to his chest and stomach. You push your eyes to his outstretched forearm and have to take a breath. How is it possible to be attracted to a forearm? Has it honestly been that long for you? You flick your eyes back towards the windshield - you’re not even going to chance looking at his face.

He pulls you into a small trailer park, parking his truck in front of a turquoise house. The two of you grab your belongings, him again grabbing all of your groceries in one hand - another thing that turns you on that shouldn’t - and run towards his front door, Frank pushing his weight against it to pop it open.

He lets you push in first before he closes the door and sets your groceries on the counter. You glance around, finding an orange, one eye cat meowing at you from its place on the small table pushed against the wall.

“Fred,” he says, pushing the cat softly, “Off the table, come on man.”

Little remnants of Mary are scattered around, her small sneakers tucked underneath the chair, her Spongebob DVDs piled on top of the table, with advanced math books and an apple laptop. Frank is also scattered around the small, but strangely cozy place.  A motor - or what you think is a motor - sits on the coffee table in the living room, tools strewn around it, and an open but turned over philosophy book lays on the couch.

“Do you wanna shower? I have some clothes you can change into if you want.”

You snap your head towards him, blinking rapidly as your brain tries to keep up with his words, “Oh, um, yeah. Okay, yeah.”

You follow him nervously to the bathroom, where he points out that you how to jiggle the knob a little to get hot water before he disappears into his room, only to return with a pair of sweatpants, an old t-shirt, a large pullover hoodie, and some socks. Just as he leaves the bathroom, there’s a hint of a smile, more like a smirk, on his face before he dips his head and shuts the door behind him.

The butterflies that fill your stomach.

You turn towards the shower, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You slam your eyes closed. This is definitely not how you’ve envisioned this moment.

----

You step out of the bathroom twenty some odd minutes later, drowning in his sweats and hoodie, but warm and definitely feeling a lot better. Rain still beats down on the small house, seemingly harder than before. The TV is on, either wrestling or MMA or whatever playing, the sound low. Frank is in the kitchen, changed into a slightly dirty white t-shirt, complete with a little pocket, and baggy jeans, his feet bare - something else that turns you on that shouldn’t.

He hasn’t noticed you yet and you’re unsure if you want him too. You run your hand over your hair, towel dried as best as you could and pulled into a tight bun to try and keep it from curling and frizzing, with a scrunchie that you hope is Mary’s. You shove your hands into the front pocket of the hoodie and take a few steps, clearing your throat as a small, nervous smile plays on your lips.

Frank glances over at you as the microwave beeps, “Feel better?”

You nod slowly, “Much. Thank you again.”

“Not a problem, although, I’ll need you to keep this to yourself. I have appearances to keep up.” He says with a straight face.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckle.

He nods and points at a house across a small patch of grass, “My neighbor, Roberta, thinks I’m a nice guy,” he shrugs and you laugh again, “So, I constantly have to remind her that I am not.”

Your smile grows as you see your phone plugged into the charger, knowing that you weren’t the one to do so, “Of course. I will be more than happy to let people know that you sped right past me in my desperate time of need.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles, holding out a plate to you, “You know they’re getting rid of the Mexican pizza, right?”

Your eyes widen as you take your heated up tacos from him, “No way!”

He throws up his hands as he pulls his microwavable burrito out of the wrapper and throws it on his plate, “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

You follow him into the living room and plop down on the opposite side of the couch, as far as you can get away from him, and tuck your feet underneath your butt, “The Mexican pizza is the staple of their menu, how could they do this?”

Frank shrugs again, “Trying to class the place up a bit I guess.”

You snort as you take a bite, “You can’t class up the drunk capital of the world, baby.”

The two of you fall into an easy silence as you eat, the rain still falling hard as you watch whatever it is you’re watching. You grimace as one man punches the other in the jaw before tackling him to the mat as they start to wrestle. You close your eyes and turn your head away, groaning as the same man starts rapidly punching the other in the face, “What um, what is this called?”

He chuckles, grabbing the remote, “Sorry, I’ll change it. Mary and I usually watch MMA together.”

“You let Mary watch this?” You ask shockingly, laughing a little.

He scrunches up his nose as he hisses, nodding his head slowly, “I probably shouldn’t, right? Too violent?”

“I mean,” you start, “Just a tad. I can see why she hit that kid in the face now.”

“Ah fuck, she told you about that?” He laughs, falling back into the couch.

“Oh yeah, she did.” You laugh harder.

He covers his face with his hands, “Not our most shining moment.”

You push your elbow into the back of the couch and prop your head up with your fist as you smile back at him. Hot uncle is really… hot in his element, and when he’s talking about the small, blonde human. It makes your ovaries quake.

“She’s a great kid, you know.” You say, “You’re doing great with her.”

He rolls his head towards you, a smirk tugging at his lips, “You think?”

His question catches you off guard a little - the earnesty of it. Like he really wants you to say yes. Like, he doesn’t believe that he’s doing a great job.

“Yeah. You are.”

He blinks at you - once, and then twice before he looks back at the tv, touching his knees together before he pushes them back out again. Mark down a third thing that turns you on - the manspread.

“She talks about you a lot,” he says after a few moments, “Not just to me, but Roberta too. She really likes you.”

You smile softly, “Yeah?”

He looks back over at you, nodding slowly, “Yeah. That’s half the reason Roberta comes to get her, you know, so she can have some girl time - talk about girl stuff. She needs that,” he nods again, clearing his throat, “And you, you know, you kinda help out with that in an unconscious way, so,” he clears his throat again, “It means a lot, it really does.”

You drop your head as a large smile spreads on your face, “Well,” you start, “Somebody has to offset your asshole-ness, so Roberta and I are doing our best.”

The two of you laugh again, him dropping his head, you glancing back at the tv as the air around you starts to suddenly shift. He takes a swig of his beer before he places it between his legs, holding the neck with both of his hands. He taps his thick fingers against the green bottle a few times before he turns his heads towards you, blinking as he chews on his bottom lip. Your lips part as your breath gets shallow, your eyes bouncing around his face.

Within a second, his lips are on yours, taking you by complete surprise. You’re frozen for a few seconds, your eyes still open, your breath hitching in your throat - but then… oh, but then. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into his kiss slowly, placing your hands on his shoulders and gripping ever so tightly. He releases your lips quickly before he delves back in, this time harder, his tongue pushing into your mouth for the very first time.

You can taste the faint alcohol on his lips and you moan - slipping your hand around his neck to push your fingers into his surprisingly soft hair. He fumbles with his beer, stretching out his arm trying to find the table. The bottle clangs against the edge and then the top before he just lets it go, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud as the rest of the golden liquid pours out onto the carpet.

He crawls towards you, his knees sinking into the couch as he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap and further down onto your back. You slip your hands up into his shirt, sliding them along his sides and up his sinewy back. You push yours hips into his as you feel his muscles flex underneath your fingers. The tips of his fingers are still cool from the beer bottle as they skirt across your stomach. You break the kiss to laugh at yourself when you jump at his touch, Frank’s low chuckle harmonizing with yours.

“You okay?” he whispers, a smile still on his face, his lips brushing against yours.

You nod, still giggling like an idiot, “Yeah, sorry,” you whisper, leaning up a little to kiss him again.

His hand continues to travel the length of you, reaching your bare breasts, where he cups gently. You gasp lightly as the pads of his fingers graze over your nipples, exciting them further as they tighten and protrude. He pushes his hips down into yours and rocks forward - so you can feel him. You dig your fingers into his sides, matching the slow pace of his hips with yours.

His lips push down to your jaw and neck, where he nips and sucks, his arm looping around your waist again. He pulls you into his lap as he sits back into the couch, his hands dragging up your back. You lean back and bite your bottom lip in uncertainty as your eyes search his. His lips are red and swollen, his eyes wide and sparkly as they drop to your lips before linking with yours again. He drops his hands to your waist, holding you firmly as he pushes his hips into yours.

You bunch the baggy hoodie and t-shirt that cover your chest and pull, bringing them both up over your head in one fell swoop and drop them to the floor. Frank takes a breath - deep and slow - as his eyes drop to your exposed flesh. He sends his eyes back up to yours seconds later and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as his hand slips up your back. He wraps his long fingers around the back of your neck and pulls you down, crashing your lips to his.

You reach for the bottom of his shirt, tugging it up, helping him shrug it off quickly before you fumble with the button on his jeans. He digs his fingers underneath the band of your sweatpants, lifting you up to yank them down your legs and throw them to the floor. You pop the button of his jeans and pull down his zipper before you reach for him, palming his warmth. He hisses, and pulls your body into his, tightening his grip on you as you stroke him.

He releases you just long enough to pull his jeans down his legs. He then grabs two handfuls of your ass, spreading your skin as the tip of his cock pushes against your slit. You grip his shoulders as you sink down on him - throwing your head back as he penetrates you. You feel his eyes on you as you gobble him up, wiggling your hips slowly as you adjust to his girth. He sinks back into the couch, resting his head on the back of it as his eyelids droop over his blues, his hands still gripping your ass.

You start to move. Pulling up on him before you sink back down, hissing as a fire starts to rage through you. You dig your nails into his shoulders before dragging them down his biceps as you let your head roll back on your neck, your mouth falling open as your eyes close.

Frank leans up to peer around the curve of your body to watch the primal connection between the two of you. He palms your ass hard, squeezing your flesh in his hands as he spreads it apart again as you bounce and rock into him. He slips a large hand up your back and spreads his fingers to push your naked chest into his. The hardness of his body against the softness of yours - your supple, full breasts pushing against his wide, hairy chest is… wildly erotic. The sturdiness of him, the tightness in which his hands hold you.

He starts to fuck up into you, bucking his hips to meet you on your way down - all the while keeping his hands full of your ass, kneading and groping -  feeling you. You wrap your arms around his neck and lean back, pulling him with you. He peppers hot, wet, furied kisses over and between your breasts and along your clavicles as his hips dig into yours.

It feels good - he feels good. He leans away from you, pulling you up with him as he stands, He wraps his hands around your thighs and kisses you hard as he starts to pull you through the living room and the kitchen, back into his bedroom. He closes the door with his foot and lays you down gently, climbing over top you, his knees pressing into the mattress. He drags his dick through your folds before he centers at your slit, pushing gently - slowly -  like he’s savoring the feeling.

He grabs your leg and hooks it over his waist as he starts to move again. He runs his hand the length of your calf, over your knee, down your thigh as he fucks you - harder than before, on the couch. You sweep your hands up his sides and along the small of his back, feeling his muscles as they flex while he fucks you good; deep. His name falls off your lips as more heat blooms across your skin, and he likes it - growls at it - the sound of his name rolling off of your tongue.

He grunts, squeezing your thigh in his hand as he pumps into you, “You feel so good, baby,” he slurs, “As good as I thought you’d feel.”

As good as I thought you’d feel. You slam your eyes closed as you groan at his admission. He pulls out of you suddenly and pushes his hands underneath your body, flipping you right over onto your stomach. He grabs your sides, his rough hands pulling you up onto your knees. He slips his hand between your folds and massages your clit with the pads of his fingers as he pushes into you again.

His free hand slips up your back, grabbing your shoulder and squeezing as he starts to fuck into you again. You grip the sheets in your hands as you lunge forward with each of his thrusts, your breasts bouncing, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the room. He releases your shoulder and flattens his hand between your shoulder blades, pushing hard to get you to rest your head and shoulders against the mattress. He grabs your hands and crosses them at the wrists over the small of your back as he holds them in just one of his large hands.

“God, Frank,” you groan, “Fuck.”

His thrusts are long and hard; pushing deep into your sex, stroking you in places that haven’t been touched in ages. Your wet muscles start to squeak with each push of his hips, a soft squish sound filling your ears. He grabs your ass again, squeezing hard, spreading you open so he can see all of you. You feel his fingers drift through your cheeks, circling your tight hole before his thumb starts to press gently.

You grit your teeth and push back into him as hard as you can, meeting his hips halfway. Your head swims as sweat and goosebumps pop up along your skin, your heart slamming against your chest. Electricity flashes through your body, making your toes curl as your ungodly howls float through the trailer. Hot uncle is a hot fuck - that’s for sure.

Frank slips out of you again but stays close - the tip of his cock still pressing against your slit. You open your eyes and glance back at him, your lips parted and breath heavy. He stares down at your cunt and ass, stroking himself from his base to his tip slowly, his free hand pulling softly on his balls. You pull your hand around to your sex and push your fingers along your clit, arching your back as you hiss loudly. You lick your lips as you keep your eyes on him - his hard, wide chest and thick biceps flexing as he pumps himself.

“This is a pretty pussy, baby girl,” he praises, releasing a deep breath, “So pretty.”

You whine at the words, your fingers picking up their pace as his praise falls over you. Your cunt is hot and swollen - so wet that your fingers glide with ease through your folds, your slick starting to slide down the inside of your thigh. You push your fingers into your opening and pump them quickly for him, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as he growls at the sight.

You pull your fingers out and start rubbing your clit again, pulsing your hips slightly as you watch Frank stroke himself. His tip glistens as precum spurts from his slit, dripping off of him and splashing on the sheets. He grabs your ass, jiggling your flesh playfully before he slides his cock through your folds. He positions himself right at your opening, but doesn’t push - he just waits.

You wiggle your hips, giggling a little before you push back onto him, a smile curling onto your lips as your muscles spread for him. You push until you’ve swallowed him whole, until your ass is flush against his hips, and you feel him deep. You pull forward and then push back, over and over until you’re thrashing against him; you’re eyes slammed closed, your sounds loud and high pitched.

He pulls you up onto your knees and flattens your back to his chest. He nips at your neck with his teeth as he glues his hands to your bouncing tits, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and index fingers. He pants in your ear, mumbling not so sweet nothings, his hot breath washing over the side of your face. He snakes his hand down your stomach - right down to your sex - and touches you ever so lightly.

That’s all it takes. Just the gentle tap of his rough fingers against your sensitive, sore, clit; and you’re gone. Your body tenses and then shudders as your orgasm spreads through you like lightening. Heat blooms across your skin as your pussy convulses - your clit jumping with each contraction, your muscles tightening around him.

He gets louder, his voice deeper and gruffer as each stroke gets harder and faster. Within minutes of your undoing, he’s spurting into you, coating your insides with his milky warmth. You fall forward onto your chest, Frank onto his back next to you as your chests heave. You stare at the opposite wall, blinking slowly as the world starts to center again - the sound of the television comes back to you -  the sound of the rain.

You roll your head towards him and he does the same, the two of you just blinking at one another until a fit of giggles erupt from you. You don’t even know why. You laugh so hard that you have to cover your face with your hands. This definitely isn’t the way you’ve imagined this going when you’ve had your hand down your pants at night in your apartment. He rolls over onto his side and props his head up with his palm, smiling at you as you laugh.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I don’t know why I’m laughing.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugs, “You have a nice laugh.”

“That’s not very asshole-y of you, Frank.”

He chuckles, nodding slowly, “That’s right, okay, yeah. You have an awful laugh.”

You point at him, “Appearances, right?”

----

You wake with a slight start. You sit up quickly, your eyes squinted as the sun breaks in through the crack in the shade over the window. A sleeping Frank lays beside you. He’s on his stomach, his hands shoved underneath the pillows that hold his head, facing away from you. The tv still plays in the living room. Your discarded clothes still in a heap on the floor, the beer bottle still tipped over.

You glance back at the window and lift the shade slowly, a smile spreading on your face as you spot your old Jetta parked next to his old truck. You lay back down and pull the covers up over your head just as he shifts beside you, stretching out his long arm until it finds your hip.

You close your eyes.

You can’t wait to tell everybody how big of an asshole Frank Adler is.

[acourtofsnakes]

Solus - Rogue, Chapter 1| Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader(F)

Summary: So I don’t want to give too much away, but a rough outline - You are Force Sensitive, and after being hunted your whole life, you’re not surprised to find another Mandalorian on your tail. What you didn’t expect, was THIS Mandalorian. Nor anything that happen’s after. And so begins a journey of two Rogues (three if you count the womp rat). 

Warnings: Not many in this chapter as it’s an opening but, mentions of death, angst?, swearing, fighting, my rusty writing after I haven’t done it in years, let me know if there’s anything else!!

AN: So, I think this might be a little messy in terms of tenses. It jumps around from the past to present a little too, so I’m sorry if its confusing… Let me know what you think!! And if you want to be added to the taglist!

Word count: Just over 4k.

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl

Rogue Taglist:  @snipskixandbeskar​ @weirdowithnobeardo

Mando’a translation: Solus - Alone

Alone.

That word had come to change its meaning over the years. When you were a small child, alone meant you were outside, playing in the grass and flowers with your parents just a few metres away indoors, within sight of you still. Close enough to come running should anything happen to you. Including that time you got stung by a bee and screamed so loudly the neighbours thought you were being raided.

A few years later, alone meant being shut away inside your room, windows closed, door firmly shut.

“It’s for your own safety, honey, you know what will happen… We don’t want this for you, we hate this, but we must keep you safe, my darling.”

You understood, of course. It was your own fault; you didn’t mean for it to happen… But just because you understood, it didn’t mean you had to like it.

A year on, alone changed properly for the first time.

The true meaning of the word hit you like a speeder when you were kneeling in the mess on the dusty ground.

Blood had soaked your knees, staining your tunic. It had coated your hands, your arms as you frantically shook the shoulders of your mother, willing her to open her eyes, to sit up and hold you. To stroke your hair and tell you it was okay, it was all just a bad dream. To take you home, where you could forget this whole thing.

It didn’t truly sink in until you heard your fathers strangled scream as he ran around the corner…

And then the sickening hiss and sizzle as the blaster hit him square in the chest. The way he tried to crawl across the ground to you and your mother, but there was a heavy white boot planted firmly in his back, a gloved hand yanking his head up and a vibroblade sliced across his throat.

His blood had coated your own bare feet as you ran to him.

You were only 12.

From that moment on… you were truly alone. No family. No more friends, they had all left when you showed them your power. Such a beautiful, natural thing, being in line with the Earth, the energy that connected all living things. It was rare, meant to be celebrated…

Instead, it just bought death upon those you loved.

So, as you ran from the horror scene within the market square, your parents blood baking onto your skin in the hot sun, you buried it. Deep inside, locking it in a box, surrounding it in darkness and keeping it hidden.

And that’s where it had stayed for the last 20 years.

~~~

Sorgan was a good place to be for a little while.

The air was breathable, the forests thick and lush, providing good cover, and the inhabitants were spread few and far between. It was quiet, the only habitable planet in its system, in fact, so it was… safe?

Well. That’s what you had told yourself when you made the split decision to come here after somehow managing to stow away on a ship that just happened to be going there.

You’d just been attacked by a Trandoshan bounty hunter, chased halfway across the planet you were on and forced to dump most of the belongings you’d managed to acquire for yourself in an effort to get away. The green lizard humanoid was… beyond eager. Hunting was their way of life, they thrived on the ritual of it and this one was no different. He was relentless. Constantly tasting the air for your scent with that disgusting flickering tongue. He’d even licked your neck once and you thought you might throw up all over his weird, scaly body. 

It had gone on for more than a week before you decided to try and get the jump on him. You laid a trap, using his eagerness against him and it had worked…. Mostly. You fought, hard, managed to sever his arm and you were just going in for the kill when out of nowhere the tables turned. Knocking away your weapons, he’d pinned you to the ground, a wickedly sharp blade pushing into your shoulder and scraping bone.

He took one look at you, battered, exhausted, blood soaking your shoulder and burst out laughing, preening in glee that he’d finally caught you, finally managed to capture the girl everyone wanted (you hadn’t bothered to ask if he was employed by the Republic or the Imperials. At this point, it didn’t matter anymore).

What he failed to notice in his gloating, was the vibroblade you pulled from the sheath on your thigh. One moment, he was laughing, the next, his head was thudding onto the ground next to your own, mouth still open in glee, reptilian tongue lolling out.

The next hour or so had been a blur, making your way through the town again, cloak pulled up over your head and over your shoulder to hide the wound. You’d managed to steal cloth and a tincture from a street vendor, binding and cleaning the knife wound whilst hiding in a small alley. It was there that you saw the ship, only a small cargo ship, the door left open. You’d slipped in like a ghost, settling between some crates of unidentifiable objects and let yourself slump, adrenaline leaving your body, leaving it shattered and full of pain. Too close. You’d almost been caught and taken back Maker knows where. Luckily you had that blade, one you’d stolen from an Imp a couple years back after he’d tried to capture you.

As you hid in the cargo hold, you heard the co-pilot ask about the turquoise planet.

“Sorgan? Why Sorgan? That place is beyond boring. I’m surprised the people living there haven’t started a war just for something to do.”

The pilot had laughed, “You’re right there. Barely anyone comes out here anymore. Most people don’t even remember it’s here.”

That suited you just fine then. A mostly empty planet with a krill-fishing village that kept to itself, swamps and forests… hey, maybe you’d finally get a chance to relax.

Since then, you’d found a little place in the forest, up high in some clustered branches, near a source of running water. It was high enough to stay out of the way of predators, but close enough to the ground that you’d be able to spot any enemies – and get away quickly.

You’d even made a friend here.

Well… sort of.

Your first night on the planet, you were trekking through the forests when your legs had just… given out. You were spent, mentally and physically, blood pooling through your fingers from the knife wound which had since opened up again. As you lay there, staring through the canopy, you decided that maybe this was it now. Maybe it was time to give up the fight.

You had been running for so long, it was a way of life now. Had more injuries than you could count and been hunted by twice as many people. Hunters and mercenaries of all species and origin, IG-11 droids, the occasional Imp or New Republic official, even a Mandalorian once – that one had been bad. You’d had to give in after you killed him and go to a hospital, he’d left a blaster hole in your thigh so deep you could see bone.

It was quiet here, peaceful, you remembered.  The treetops had begun to blur and swoop under you as you came to your decision.

I’m sorry, mumma, I’m sorry, papa. I tried, but I can’t do it anymore.

You had closed your eyes, giving into the darkness with a final goodbye and letting it wash over you like a tidal wave.

Only to be woken up what felt like seconds later by a wet nose and furry face pushing against your hand. Lifting your head, you’d blinked away the blurriness to find a rounded, big eared head resting on your hand. A Loth cat. It appeared that you’d gotten yourself a little friend.

Since then, she hadn’t left your side, following you everywhere, climbing up the trees and curling up on your lap of a night. You weren’t sure what had drawn her to you, but… it was the first companion you’d had in such a long time, and her warm body against yours was such a comforting feeling that you couldn’t bear to part with her.

That was a few weeks ago.

Nothing had happened in those few weeks. No fighting, no threats, no beeping of tracking fobs waking you in the night and sending you hurtling for the trees.

Nothing but trees, swamps and your furry little friend that you’d called Duru, after a childhood friend.

The only thing bothering you at this point, was your arm. You’d managed to smuggle some herbs from an apothecary hut in the fishing village, but it wasn’t healing properly. The wound had sealed, but it ached. Insistently. Some days it wasn’t too bad, but most of the time, it caused you enough grief that you struggled to grip anything. It was just lucky it was your non-dominant side.

A small groan left your lips as you rubbed at the skin around the wound, perched on a low branch, watching the village. The string of your bow dug into it, sending small shockwaves down your nerves and making your hand spasm. You shifted the bowstring, curling your hand into a fist and releasing it again to get some feeling back into it, an absent action as you just watched the day-to-day life of the village.

It soothed you in a way, just watching people go about their daily lives, how each person had a part to play. Even though you hadn’t met any of them and doubted they knew you were there, you liked and respected them nonetheless. So, whenever you snuck into the village for supplies, you always left something in return. Prey you’d shot down in the forest for food, herbs you’d gathered, fish you’d caught. Just a small way to say thank you to the for keeping you safe, even if they didn’t know it.

You weren’t sure how long you had been sat there for, eyes closed, one leg dangling from the branch and just enjoying the sunlight on your face, the cool and faintly briny breeze when Duru suddenly shot to her feet, a low growl rumbling from her throat. Your eyes snapped open in an instant, bow drawn and pointing into the forest, ignoring the lick of pain as your shoulder protested.

You scanned the branches, the ground below but… nothing. There was no-one there, but Duru was still staring, eyes fixed on something you couldn’t see. You huffed, leaning back against the trunk. She probably just saw a bird or a bug or something.

Still, you remained on edge for the rest of the afternoon, your hand flying to the hilt of your knife at every little crack of branches or whisper through the trees.

It took you a long time to sleep that night, but your body eventually gave in and fell into a somewhat fitful slumber, hand still resting on your bow just in case.

---

Beep.

Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Beep. Bee-

Within seconds, your eyes shot open and you were bolt upright. You knew that noise.

Instinct took over and you grabbed Duru, urging her still sleepy body onto your shoulders as you scrambled down the tree trunk… only to fall the last metre because of your shoulder.

Stifling the cry of pain, you shot back to your feet and took off running, in the opposite direction of that noise.

You’d been too relaxed, let your guard slip down too much here. You should have left the second Duru went on alert last night. Of course, her instincts were so much better than yours, but you ignored it. Like a fucking fool.

The curses kept slipping from your lips as you ran, not daring to see who was behind you just yet. Maybe you’d get lucky, maybe it was just a normal hunter, looking for a big job, not realising the countless that came before him or her. Or it.

You almost laughed to yourself as you zig-zagged through the trees, feet flying over the undergrowth.Maker, you had to get off this planet, it was making you too lax.

The predator’s presence was like a dark cloud behind you, slipping through the trees, lapping at your heels every time you thought you had gotten away. Trees and branches whipped past your face, stinging but you didn’t have time to brush them away. You didn’t even have time to turn your bow and shoot an arrow, the hunter was just that close. Your brain worked frantically, seeking for a way out, an escape, a distraction, anything.

Wait.

A distraction.

You cursed yourself again, drawing in a ragged gasp of air into your aching lungs as you fumbled at your belt. You had a small flash grenade in a pouch on your belt. You used to have three, you’d had them for years and only used them for dire situations. Like this one, you just need a distraction, even for just a few seconds to get up into a tree.

Duru dug her claws into your shoulders for grip – ow, claws -  as you activated the grenade and threw it over your bad shoulder without even turning around. The hunter was so close behind you, you knew it would work no matter where you aimed.

As the grenade exploded into light, you shielded both your eyes and Duru’s with the hood of your cloak, putting on a burst of speed and adrenaline and you bolted for a tree to your left, practically flying up into the canopy. Without hesitation, you began to make your way through the trees, almost sobbing with relief to the Maker that the branches intersect and cross over so that you can make your way across them.

After about 10 minutes of moving through the air, you stopped, hunkering down against the trunk of a huge willow tree as you tried to haul air into your lungs, whilst staying quiet. The pain in your shoulder nearly brought tears to your eyes, the ache in your chest but you stayed still, breathing in through your nose slowly, then out through your mouth, massaging the stitch in your side.

Was the hunter still all that way back? Was he looking for you on the ground? Maybe he was in the trees too, opposite you, watching and waiting to-

“You can’t hide from me.”

The voice came from below and somewhere to the right, a few metres away. On the ground then. The voice sounded male, a little distorted, but that may have just been the roaring of blood in your ears.

You barely breathed, scanning your surrounds and slowly rising to a crouch on the branch, calming your body into a hunters pace of your own. Slow, even movements, balancing your weight as you crept around the tree to a branch on the other side.

Even Duru was silent, hunkering around your neck, her head barely peeping out of your cloak.

“You might have evaded all the others, but you can’t run. Not from me.”

Typical. You rolled your eyes as you slipped along the branches like a phantom. Another hunter thinking he’d get the glory because he captured you. The faint call of fear in your blood quietened as you realised he was just like the others.

Let him gloat, you thought. He could be dispatched as easy as the ugly reptile last time. And his tongue. 

You kept your ears pricked as you eased over to the next tree, but you couldn’t hear him. Obviously trying to get the jump on you. You let out a silent laugh as you reached the adjoining tree and began to descend.

“I can bring you in warm. Or I can bring you in cold.”

You froze, going rigid, praying the leaves would hide you as one foot dangled in the air. He was right underneath you.

You dared a glance down, finally looking at your current attacker and…

Nearly fell from the tree.

Standing on the ground below you, pulse rifle pointed at you was a tall figure. Decked out in beskar armour so shiny you could have done your hair in it, the infamous helmet covering his face, tilted in an almost casual, cocky expression.

A Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian.

You’d heard whispers of this one. That beskar armour, more than any other Mandalorian has ever laid their hands on, paid for by the collection of a high-stakes bounty. A bounty which he stole back, from the hands of The Client and Stormtrooper bodyguards, breaking Guild code and going on the run. Wanted by The Galactic Empire, The Guild, and countless others, he became a rogue, travelling the Outer Rim with his little green child in tow, completing jobs and missions for normal people, all the while being hunted himself by Moff Gideon. He was relentless, one of the best, not hesitating to kill if someone threatened him or the Child.

Someone obviously wants you very, very badly, to call upon a wanted man to track you down.

And he obviously wants to bring you in just as much, to take the risk of this hunt. You briefly wonder just how much he’s being offered.

Fuck. You’re really screwed now, aren’t you?

All of this flashed through your mind in an instant, as your arm shook with the pull of your body weight on the wound. You made as if to move, put suddenly he’s there before you’ve even let your foot drop, a gloved hand grabbing the bottom of your cloak and yanking you to the ground with a thud. Duru made a yowl of protest, springing off your shoulder and into the trees, which you were relieved about because at least she’d be safe.

Twisting to avoid putting weight on your bad shoulder, you bared your teeth at him in a grin, “I bet you use that line on all the ladies, don’t you?”

Really?? This man, this Mandalorian was going to either kill or take you, and you were trying to flirt with him??

Shaking your head at yourself, you rose to your feet, grabbing your bow, thankful you spent 4 years saving the credits for it. It was made of a strong but flexible metal, perfectly shaped for your height, as familiar to you as your own arm. Its edges were razor sharp, a knifes edge. You spun, swinging it toward him and it lightly clanged as it met the armour on his forearm, the vibration skittering down your arm.

The Mandalorian lifted his other hand, a knife in it that he guided toward your side, “Only the ones that have a bigger bounty than I’ve ever seen on their head.”

You quickly jumped back, but not before he caught you, cutting through the fabric of your tunic and opening a small cut just under your ribs. “Ooh, now we’re onto flattery so soon? Careful, Mandalorian, I’d think you were trying to woo me, not kill me.” You flung out with your bow again, only to have him grab it, yanking it out of your grip and throwing it to the side.

Mandalorian made a faint noise, whether it was disgust or exasperation you didn’t know, “You talk too much” He came at you again, a flurry of fists and kicks that were almost too quick for you, making you realise that you weren’t just fighting some cocky hunter.

This was possibly the most dangerous Mandalorian out there, save for Boba Fett. He wasn’t going to let this go. You were a good fighter, excellent, even, but as you both danced a routine of attack and defence across the clearing, you realised… you just might not walk away from this.

You panted, ducking under his arm as he swung for you. Maybe… maybe you could go and seek help in the village, you could hide in a hut or a boat, beg them to take you in.

It was like he read your mind, seeing what you were planning to do, “Really? You’d lead me into the villages? Haven’t enough people died for you already?” His voice was like a rasp as it come out through the modulator, cutting straight through the clarity of the fight and into your heart, making you pause.

How did he know that? Your parents were common knowledge within the hunters of course, nearly everyone knew, but everyone else, those that tried to hide you…

~“Run!!! Y/N, run. Don’t look back, whatever you see, whatever you hear you must promise me you will not look back.”~

A hard impact to your jaw made you stumble backwards, dragging yourself back to the present. Asshole. He’d distracted you. “You’re talking to me about death? How many have you killed, Mandalorian?” You kicked out at his knee, your boot connected just under the plate that covered his thigh and he partially went down.

The Mandalorian grunted as he rose back to his feet, “I’ve killed, yes. But criminals. Murderers. People who deserve it. I haven’t killed innocent people.” He came for you again, fists up and his blaster out this time

You couldn’t help the shocked laugh as you avoided his advances, slashing out with another small knife, grinning when it found home in his shoulder, “You haven’t? What about all the Jedi your little clan murdered?” You spat out the word clan, punching him hard, ignoring the protest your knuckles made at the impact of the beskar. “You didn’t understand a people, so your first instinct was to slaughter them like animals.”

You could almost feel the frown behind the T-visor of his helmet, “That was before me, I was never a part of the war. And why do you care about the Jedi?”

~“Mumma!! I’m not leaving you!! I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, this is my fault, I shouldn’t have done anything, I’m sorry!!”

“Shhh, shhh, my darling. It’s alright. They just don’t understand you, that’s all. Which is why you have to run, you must go and find your father and be safe, please.”

“There she is!!! Over there! Kill anyone that tries to protect her”~

You hesitated, lost in memories of the past, explosions, screaming and blood. So much blood…

He shot out a grappling line from his vambrace and it wrapped around your ankle and he pulled you off balance and to the ground, again. Weapons made specifically to combat Jedi, people with the same abilities as you, reminding you just how hunted you were. He rose to his feet, walking over to you, “I don’t know why they want you. I don’t know what you’ve done. I don’t care. I just know that you’re a criminal, you’re wanted, and the price on your head is nearly as big as mine.”

You snarled at him, reaching for your vibrobrade and pulling it from your thigh.

He just sighed, kicking it from your hand with one foot easily and at the same time he jammed the end of his rifle against your shoulder, already having marked it as a weakness.

A howl of rage and pain ripped through your gritted teeth, and the edges of your vision started to go black. It was broken by the helmet coming into your eyesight, the moon bouncing off the surface, “Give in. You can’t win. Even if you beat me, more and more people will just keep coming after you.” His voice had turned to honey on a knife edge, persuasive. Wrong.

Right.

You shook your head, as if trying to shake off his words, deny the truth of it even as tears started to burn the back of your eyes. You arched your back from the floor, trying to get up, trying to shift his knee off of you but he was like a damn rock on you, pinning you to the floor. “Fuck off, you’re just as heartless as the rest of them.”

Your power cried out to be used, begged form that place buried deep within you, but you pushed it down. You wouldn’t, couldn’t. Instead, you swallowed, lifting your head and opening your mouth to scream.

Only for his hand to wrap around your throat, his fingers lightly pushing against you. It wasn’t enough to strangle you, or cut off your air supply, but the squeeze of his fingers was enough to warn you that he would do it if you tried to alert the villagers. The Mandalorian leaned down, close enough that you could see your reflection in the black visor. More honey dripped from that voice, worming into your head, your defences.

“More people will die for you. And I don’t think you want that. I won’t touch those villagers, but anyone after me might not be so lenient.” He tilted that stupid helmet, merely watching you struggle with another light squeeze around your throat, another slight prod into your shoulder.

~Explosions lit up the market, local people screaming and running for cover as spices and fruit flew through the air. You choked, searching through the smoke, until your bare feet landed in something warm and wet. Blood.~

As you glared up into the unrelenting metal, you caught your own reflections eyes. Bruised. Battered, snarling. A danger to anyone you came near. How many people had died because of you? Either directly or indirectly? All because you kept running. Maybe you just didn’t deserve it. Deserved to live freely. And hell, you were so tired. 20 years on the run, more if you count the years with your parents. Always having to look over your shoulder, never being able to completely trust another living person. The closest thing you’ve had to a friend in the last 5 years is a Loth cat, and even she left.

It was time to just… give in.

~“Mumma? Mumma wake up, please wake up. You have to, you have to get up, please mumma, PLEASE!!”~

You couldn’t do it anymore.

I’m sorry.

The Mandalorian saw the defeat in your eyes, the way your body slumped into the ground, your muscles relaxed. As a tear rolled down your cheek, you took one last glance at the stars, so you didn’t see him hesitate for just a second before using the shock of his rifle to knock you into darkness.

Next chapter

[espritmuse]

Zeke and Reiner birthday collab!! It was supposed to be longer but my sens of organisations is close to zero so I was late as usual @saccharine-darling collab!!!

4K words, smut ahead (but not that much lol)

Warning: reader is low-key cheating, semi public sex maybe angst too idk….

Perhaps the sun, always glorious and a harbinger of delight and bliss, reminded you of how dull and dreary your life was, while the moon and its obscurity brought you back to your slumbers and reveries.

On a bright day when everything seemed dark, questioning your relationship with Reiner, you met him, Zeke Yeager, like a light among the stars, like the moon eclipsing the sun for a mere moment, but maybe long enough to forget about how bright the sun used to shine.

—LUNAR ECLIPSE—

A single tiny piece of sunshine that seemed to escape from the firmament to find refuge, a curtain slightly ajar so that the darkness did not take over the whole room and one side of the bed unmade, the grey cotton sheets crumpled as usual, as they have been every morning for several months now. It was all these little details, in addition to your noisy alarm clock, the passers-by and the cars in the city streets, that brought you out of your long and sweet reverie, the one that allowed you to escape from your daily life, which was morose, to say the least.

You gathered up what courage you had left and got up after stretching your numb limbs from the awkward position you had been in while sleeping. Walking a few steps to reach the window, you opened the shutters and curtains to finally let the sweet sunshine into the sad room, which needed it. Although you had no desire to see him again, your stomach was just rumbling with anticipation of anything that might fill it. So you opened the white wooden door, turned the gold handle, and headed for the main room of your little flat.

"Morning." You greeted with a sigh before opening one of the small doors in the wall shelves to pick up a black patterned mug into which you poured coffee straight from the coffee pot.

"Hm." The short-haired man simply replied without even bothering to look in your direction, as if he didn't care about your presence anymore.

You didn't even care, you'd taught your heart not to feel bruised by every loveless move he made. He just couldn't stand you anymore, he didn't love you like he used to. You don't know what changed, what you could have done to make your sweet and loving boyfriend suddenly change his behaviour.. The idea that he had met someone else had crossed your mind more than once, but you didn't even dare ask him; you were frightened of the answer he might address you. Despite his silence, you never stopped loving him and it hurt you deeply that he could have gone to someone else, another girl, maybe more beautiful, funnier... It's all these questions that have little by little pushed you away from him in your turn.

"Did you sleep well? It was hot last night and I had a little trouble falling asleep.” But you tried to talk to him, no matter what, you always found something to say to try to reconnect with the man you loved.

With the summer, the heat and the sun, he had even more excuses to go out at all hours of the day so you had even less opportunity to see him. At times you can't help but think back to the days when you would jump into his arms as soon as you heard his keys turn in the front door lock, when you would spend the evening in each other's arms whispering sweet nothings. You think back on those moments with great melancholy, you don't even feel like the same man anymore.

“Yeah.” Once again, he didn't look at you; his head was turned towards the television, which was showing a programme even more boring than the questions you were asking him to break the ice. Slumped on the sofa, his left leg stretched out and the other bent; you sat down next to him and put your cup on the living room’s small coffee table.

"We could go out today, don't you think? I miss when we used to go for walks in the city Reiner." You asked, your eyes on him, and thankfully you noticed a small movement in his regard as if in a second he had recalled happy memories, memories where everything still seemed perfect.

"I...I already have stuff planned." He replied after a short moment, his gaze still evasive.

"Oh...Okay." You simply answered, not wanting to annoy him longer, maybe that was the reason; you were too much on his back, you were asking for too much attention...

Silently sipping your coffee, you pondered for a moment, your mind elsewhere. After a few minutes of communicating to yourself, you made your settlement. You were going to go out without him, you didn’t need him for everything. It had been weeks since you had been out with just yourself and you were beginning to miss it; when you officially moved in with him, away from your family, you lost touch with many of your friends so it was high time to meet new people and have some fun for once.

So the day passed, the noon and then the afternoon; you had decided to go out at night to appreciate everything even better, the big lights on the main boulevard, itself filled with people dancing -contrasting with their morose faces of the day-, the bars full of life, the stars overhanging the sky and giving it a bit of light in its solitary gloom...Everything seemed more beautiful once the sun was down. Perhaps the sun, always bright and a harbinger of delight and hapiness, reminded you of how dull and dreary your life was, while the moon and its night brought you back to your slumbers and reveries.

Using your phone, you took down the address of a bar in your town that you had spotted earlier on one of your walks. It was quite big but seemed to be a bit of an upmarket bar, given the prices of the drinks. But you didn't give up, it was your night out, all to yourself and it didn't matter if you ended up broke, you wanted to have fun for once.

So when night fell, you put on your best evening dress, a short black dress, hugging your body to perfection without being too tight, and your pumps of the same colour - a little high and uncomfortable, but that would be a problem for later -. And of course, you took forever to make yourself beautiful in the bathroom, make-up, eyebrows, nails... Who knows, maybe you were going to meet someone, or maybe somewhere in the back of your mind, you wished Reiner would see you like this, that he would fall in love with you again like he did a few years before when he saw you at that campus party. You would have liked him to compliment you, to ask you to stay home, or even to ask you out instead; but none of that; he was already off somewhere while you were primping in the next room.

Turning the key in the lock of the front door, you then went down the stairs quickly - trying not to fall with your impractical high heels - and went to the taxi you had ordered beforehand because, although the bar was not far away, you were still a woman in a short dress at night and you didn't want to put your life in danger. Once in the car, the driver began to drive carefully, exchanging a word or two with you so that the journey would not be too boring.

"So, a girls' night out? It's a beautiful day right now, even at night, you're lucky to see the stars in the city, with the pollution, not everyone gets to see them so often." The man says to you, hands on the wheel, looking straight ahead, preparing to brake at the red light.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm going out to have some fun." You simply replied to the white-haired, long-bearded widow with the same unkempt light colour.

"In my day, me and my friends used to run out of bars, unpaid!" He recalled with a smile as he looked at you through the car window to look at your smiling face, too. "So if you need me to wait for you outside the bar so you can escape, don't hesitate, the police have never caught me...yet."

"It's going to be hard for me to run around with these things on my feet...but I'll make a note, the prices are outrageous." You replied to his somewhat amusing remark.

The car had been driving for several minutes now and you saw the front of the bar, so the driver pulled over and waited for you to give him the money for the fare, which you said after digging into your wallet for a few seconds.

“Take care of yourself miss” He finally said before rolling up the driver's side window and leaving.

You breathed out a deep breath before crossing the street that separated you from the place. It was, like all the other signs of this kind, much more animated at this hour and more beautiful too. Its many lights of all colours and the people who surrounded it, some outside to smoke or drink and others, inside laughing with friends, that you could see between the half-open doors... All this gave an astonishing charm to this place.

Your legs a little shaky with hesitation, you finally entered, putting your hands on one of the glass doors to push it open slightly to give yourself more room to pass. You quickly made your way to the bar at the far right of the large room. To avoid people who had already had too much to drink, you stayed close to the walls, walking quickly along them to wait for the right place. Although your steps went in one direction, your eyes, curious as they are, turned towards the dance floor and the other people present. They seemed so happy, full of life, smiling, dancing... You wondered immediately if, like you, their lives were not a reflection of their current emotions, if, like you, they woke up in the morning, sad with the feeling that their lives are meaningless. They seem so happy at the time, but are they really happy once the sun rises, once the bar lights go out?

You took a seat on one of the leather stools placed at the counter, waiting for a waiter to ask you what you wanted to order. A simple whisky, that's what you took when the waiter came towards you.

Sipping your drink -or rather the second one, as you had swallowed the first one in record time-, you continued to look at the others, indefinitely, when you heard a voice break your precious silence; it was the bar's waiter once again but this, this time he was holding a small plate with two drinks on it.

"Excuse me, here," he placed two more glasses of whiskey in front of you, "The man over there paid for you." He nodded towards another part of the room to your puzzled look. In the distance, there was a group of men who looked like businessmen, from the black suits they were still wearing. You didn't know which man he was talking about, there were several of them; two with blond hair, one who looked very effeminate and the other with glasses and a beard; a dark-skinned man with closely shaved hair and finally a dark-haired man who seemed to be smaller in stature, especially compared to one of the blond men beside him.

You turned back your head to its original position, a little smile on your face, proud that your charm was still working, and what's more, on a man who seemed rather attractive - because, even if you didn't know which man the drink came from, the four of them were rather to your liking -

"Is this seat taken?" A deep yet soft voice suddenly asked, taking you out of your reverie.

You turned towards the noise you had just heard and noticed that a young man, about your age or maybe older, was pointing with his index finger at the chair next to yours. He was one of the guys you just saw some minutes prior, one of the blonde, the one with the beard and the round silver glasses.

“Oh...No. No, it’s not, you can take it,” you answered as naturally as possible, with a smile that had not yet left your lips. The unamed man said before sitting on the chair at your right, he had a cup in his hand, half empty.

“So...What a girl like you is doing here..” he leaned over a little to look at the other vacant seat on your left. “...all by herself?”

"Oh well, I was supposed to come with someone but they dropped me... so I preferred to come alone." you replied honestly, your eyes looking into his.

"He doesn't know what he's missing then." He added with a small smile and a discreet wink.

Although the man was attractive, you weren't used to that anymore; going out to bars, being accosted…Since you were with Reiner, you had developed the habit of always replying negatively to the advances of men. But at the moment everything was racing through your brain, you didn't even know what he was doing tonight and he didn't even bother to ask you where you were going, as if he didn't care anymore.

To have fun. That was the promise you made to yourself, and you decided to keep it.

"Zeke, nice to meet you. "You finally told him after he asked your name and, of course, you asked his in return.

Maybe it was the liquor, or maybe it was the sense of freedom you hadn't had the pleasure of feeling in months, but for some reason you'd ended up chatting with him for hours. You knew that time was passing, thanks to the waiter's digital watch that lit up every time he lifted his arm to look for a bottle up high, your eyes were directed straight to the sudden glimpse of light in the darkness.

He offered to dance, which you refused, for fear that your heels would give out under your inexperienced movements - or maybe those embarrassing movements were the real reason - and then he offered you something else, something a little daring, maybe even too daring for the short time you'd both been sitting at the bar.

You accepted, without even considering too much, maybe you should have? or maybe the adrenaline and the alcohol in your veins spoke for you. This man had appeared like lightning in the middle of a storm, the moon in the middle of a sky devoid of light. In other words, he was there at the right time.

So there you were, without really knowing how or why, sitting on the edge of one of the sinks in the bar's toilets, your dress somewhat raised so that your skin could come into contact with the cold surface of the piece of furniture, your legs spread -it was almost pathetic- and his hands placed on your half-opened thighs, rough hands, large and painted with several blue veins, contrasting with his rather light skin and which gave in spite of themselves a little colour to his light skin.

"Are you sure no one will come and disturb us here?" You asked, putting your hands on his chest, still dressed, although he had removed his black blazer. Only a white shirt prevented you from coming into direct contact with his skin, the one you wanted so much, now.

"Don't worry...just relax, okay?" He moved closer to you and placed a soft kiss on your neck that made your eyelids close almost instantly.

His lips began to move freely over your face and chest, as if they couldn't decide where to land. His arms were still wrapped around you, moving around your back, catching the fabric of your dress at times, as if to bring you closer to him.

While your eyelids were still closed, your ears were attentive to every little sound in the room, as if they were ready to inform your body of someone's arrival or, as was the case now, to hear the zip of his trousers being quickly undone.

"Are you sure?" You felt his warm breath next to your ears, as if he were telling you a well-kept secret.

"I'm sure." You retorted, ready to submit to one of the cardinal sins. Although, you would have much preferred that he took you home, for comfort, at least.

You felt his long, hot member between your thighs, with a long sigh of your own. He was already hard as a rock, and you wet as the ocean, for a flash of a second you wondered if this was his intention all along and if he had noticed you as soon as you stepped into that bar and then, a little heat growing in your crotch made you forget about this useless questioning.

You tried not to be too blatant, but as his pelvic thrusts got more profound and faster, you couldn't stop a few moans from escaping your lips.

"Fuck...a body like that.." He commented, using two of his fingers to push the fabric of the neckline of your dress and expose one of your breasts to the air.

"Zeke..." You moaned languidly as he continued his back and forth.

"What? You don't agree maybe? Look at you." He questioned, though his question was mostly rhetorical at this point because yes, indeed, you had noticed what a disadvantageous position you were in. "Poor girl... so desperate, I almost feel sorry for you, you know"

Then he stopped for a moment and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you down from the sink where your feet did not touch the floor. He turned you, a little violently, and pressed your belly against the surface of the sink, allowing him to have a full view of everything below, which, as you could imagine, he was most interested in.

He kept his burning hands on your hips - you could feel it even through the lmere piece of tissue that separated your skin from his - to help his pelvis move even harder, which released even more little moans from you, trying as hard as you could to muffle them with the palm of your hand, though it was more than futile.

"I'm almost there...Fuck you feel amazing..." he groaned in a hoarse voice, his movements becoming more and more tired but still rough, as if he wanted to get it over with quickly.

With all the alcohol you'd ingested -which you weren't really used to doing anymore- your envy was even bigger than usual but, strangely, your pleasure wasmore distant, as if each movement was taking you further away from the orgasm. But you didn't give up, your lower body was still on fire, as if insatiable, never satiated - although the fingers he placed on your clitoris helped a little with that -

With a final grunt from him and a long moan from you, your mutual pleasure finally came to an end. And suddenly all your senses came back to you; you felt his hips pressed against you, his hands roaming over your half-dressed body, the surface of the washbasin which was no longer really cold thanks to your own warmth, the air conditioning of the toilet which didn't even have a window and finally, the dimmed lights of the room.

He withdrew from you after a few seconds -or maybe a few minutes, you didn't even know anymore-, removed the soiled condom he had put on beforehand and wrapped it in paper before throwing it precautiously in the trash. Returning to you a moment later, he pulled up the black lace lingerie that had been left on one of your calves and pulled your dress back on, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder, in stark contrast to his rough actions earlier.

Once out of the toilet, under the innocent gaze of the other customers, he proposed to you, leaning against the wall near the exit, to meet him the next day, at an address he had given you, that of his flat. Should you? You had felt so good a few minutes before, but now that you had regained your senses, everything was confused. Sure he was charismatic, quite funny and cultured but Reiner couldn't leave your consciousness so easily, you had been through so much with him, you couldn't leave him after just one night with another man.

But you accepted. You were not committed to anything, you had only given him your name; you would have the whole day to think quietly, away from the hustle and bustle of the bar and with less alcohol flowing through your veins.

So after a simple kiss on your cheek, he called you a taxi and even opened the door for you, wishing you a good night. The ride was short, you didn't even think about him for a second but only about Morpheus, who seemed to be screaming your name, your comfortable bed was the only thing you craved now.

***

Just a tiny bit of sunlight sticking out of the door, one hand on the handle and the other on your purse, a great gulp of air escaping from your lungs and finally, the guilt that took over your mind suddenly, once the door was open.

What the fuck had you done.

The blond boy with the marked facial features was there, lying on the couch, his body covered by one of your blankets and, in his sleeping hand, his phone still open on the messaging application where you could read your name. You turned on your phone, something you hadn't done all evening.

"Where are you? You're not home." Please come back home I have a surprise for you. "Hey?" "Please tell me that you're okay at least. "I love you." "Sorry"

You were confused, it had been a long time since he had stopped sending you such messages, words that seemed to indicate his attachment to you. So you turned on one of the lamps in the living room to get a better look, because the light from the television wasn't bright enough to illuminate the whole room.

A table covered with a red tablecloth with small decorative patterns, a large candle in the centre, which had once been lit by the dripping wax but was now out and cold, two plates and cutlery, one full and one half eaten, and to top it all off, your old friend the Guilt, who was just whispering maliciously in your ears.

"You're back..."

At the sound of the still sleeping little voice, your eyes suddenly widened and your body felt heavy now, as if your legs were going to give out under your weight. But you turned back to him, not looking at all. He looked tired and was dressed in his pyjamas, a simple white tank top with grey shorts.

"Oh hi." You replied simply, a little confused by the situation.

He walked towards you, with a shy smile on his face, like a child trying to get close to a wild animal that might run away at any moment.

"I wanted to... "He looked down at your outfit and his gaze shifted for a moment, as if he'd just realised you'd spent the night away from home and, as he knew you didn't really have any friends here, that you'd spent it out there alone. But he didn't say a word and continued, "I wanted to apologise. I've been a shit to you and I know that. I'm so sorry, I know you deserve better, but I promise I'll make it up to you."

You frowned and opened your mouth, letting fresh air enter between your lips. Reiner probably read the confused and shocked expression on your face, so he continued.

"I had so much on my mind right now, you know, I feel so bad. I would do anything for you..I..I don't know...I should have told you about it my love I'm sorry." You saw a tear escape from his right eye, almost reaching his rosy cheek before he wiped it away with his hand, "Maybe we could try again?" with his fragile fingers, he took you by the hand and looked you straight in the eyes. "Please, I love you so much."

You should have been happy. You should have jumped into his arms, told him that all was forgiven, promised him a bright future, put your lips against his. But you were as if frozen, like a criminal before the police, like a slow prey before its fast predator.

So you stood there, forcing a small smile that on the surface said 'all is well' but in reality depicted your unhappiness even more than the tears. He responded to your smile, wrapping his warm arms around you, as you had so dreamed of, as you would have loved this very morning.

You couldn't even think straight. Had he planned all this for you? That's why he didn't want to go out. And you had gone elsewhere, while all he could think about was you, all he could think about was making things right.

Lying. It was the only solution. You wouldn't see Zeke again tomorrow, you would forget him, this evening would be a distant memory, like a dream so realistic that you would almost forget that it had never happened.

Like the moon on an eclipse day, it had hidden the sun, almost making you forget its beauty and warmth, temporarily providing some comfort in the dark night that the luminous orb had caused when it suddenly left.

It was tears that lulled you that night, under the mocking eye of the moon.

[woeisme-iamwoe]

an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 3

KageHina AND KuroKen because I’m very picky with these ships so there’s not a lot :/ 

KageHina:

The Cure for You (is You), by tsunderei (6k. T. canonverse) 

Brooo...cute shit

Kageyama knew they would separate after graduation. He knew he was going to miss Hinata. He just didn’t know he’d still be here, three years later, nursing an old crush that now seems more or less ruined by time and distance and stupidity. 

discovering the smile of one kageyama tobio, by emleewrites (8k. T. canonverse)

Innocence, pure innocence. Those are synonyms, shut up.  

Kageyama blinks once before a grin of his own spreads over his face. Shouyou’s breath halts in his lungs at the sight, and he wills for time to stop, just so he can drink it in. He sees it sometimes, when they’re playing - Kageyama’s fierce smile when they pull a combo off just right, when they show their opponents how possible the impossible can really be. But then there’s another serve, another rally, and the moment is gone.

'Shame', Shouyou thinks to himself, as he lets his eyes roam over Kageyama’s stupidly happy face, taking in the creases that are from joy rather than frowning, for a change. 'It’s a really nice smile.'

-

In which it's their third, and final, year in high school and Hinata has only one goal: to make Kageyama smile outside of volleyball.

 room to grow, by Mysecretfanmoments (6k. T. canonverse)

Third year Kageyama is considerate, careful, doesn't grab Hinata's hair. Hinata's still trying to figure out how he feels about it. 

where the night goes, by bigspoonnoya (20k. M. canon-divergence)

This one is very popular, and for good reason! It's beautiful. 

When their bond loses the immediate context of volleyball, they're left to consider why it's still so vital and important.

Meeting again, by chance, six years later.

 thirty-three days of mist and mountains, by tinygumdrops (curryramyeon) (36k. T. canon-divergence)

Kageyama, that’s a lot of paper, sir. I sure hope you recycle, god damn. 

Tobio runs by himself every day. Even though he can't shake off that awful feeling that something's closing in on him, he still does it. It's habit now.

When he gets a phone call that Hinata Shouyou is thinking of coming to Italy, Tobio feels like he has to run even faster.

(Or: Tobio has a month to prepare himself before his high school rival comes to visit him. They haven't spoken to each other for two years, and Tobio can't even remember what food Hinata likes. He's got a lot to think about.)

 soft serve, by tothemoon (9k words. T. canonverse):

Alternatively, the fic that made me immediately go out and buy a pint of ice cream after reading. So cute and fluffy! We’ve got a socially awkward Kageyama and, if I may, a little bit of a subdued Hinata.  Cute, cute, cute. Want ice cream. 

"I'm gonna run you over with this truck," Kageyama says, with only half of his usual conviction.

(Because frankly, he's still flabbergasted that Hinata would remember his favorite flavor.)

Or, in which Kageyama and Hinata drive an ice cream truck for a week, the former struggles with a crush, and the latter dares to eat the popsicles without paying.

 Fake it, Make it, by zadderlee (50k words. T. canonverse. Unfinished):

Ah yes, the classic fake dating that causes real feelings to arise. Here for the trope, will always be here for the trope. It is an unfinished fic, but it's still worth the read. Actually hilarious and Suga had me rolling. I take back what I said about only feeling safe alone with Iwa, I’d feel safe with Suga (lets be honest, with almost all of the Haikyuu boys. But not Atsumu. Rat bitch (I love him so much). 

"Because Kageyama is already dating someone!"

"Really? Who?"

“Me!” Hinata shouts suddenly, grabbing Kageyama’s hand as an afterthought and grinning triumphantly, like he’s somehow missed the implications of what he’s just done. Kageyama is going to kill him.

 touch, by buu (3k. T. canonverse)

Pure, young love. COVID-19 doesn’t exist yet. (WASH YOUR HANDS, DAMMIT)

Hinata doesn't notice it at first, really. It's small things, natural things, like when they sit together at lunch and Hinata ends up hooking his ankle over Kageyama's and he doesn't move away; in fact, he seems to not notice it, and go on eating his lunch like nothing's different. 

 we are the sparks that never fade, by thecivilunrest (4k. T. injury au)

A Kageyama injury fic and I never realized how painful that could be until I read this work. 

The first thing Hinata tells him after seven years is, “Toss to me.” 

 confession, by buu (3k. T. canonverse)

Just a really short, sweet school-boy love fic.

“You've been an ass to me for three weeks!” Hinata blurts, and finally the weight of it is pushing down on him. He's been trying to ignore it, telling himself it's just Kageyama being Kageyama, but this isn't like him, this is weird, and Hinata hates it. He's miserable.

 kisses, by buu (3k. T. canonverse)

So many smooches! So pure! 

There's a blur and Hinata remembers warm lips, surprisingly soft from someone who frowns all the time, and Kageyama's terrified face when he pulls back, and the electricity running through Hinata's entire body, heating his cheeks to match Kageyama's.

Kissing, it turns out, is as good as volleyball.

 Never More Cruel, by dawnstruck (3k. T. canonverse)

How have you not read this?? I know you haven't, so read it and smoosh in sweetness with me.  

Hinata starts fading away from him, and Kageyama tells himself that he doesn't mind.

Kuroken: 

teach me the way home, by icespyders (22k. T. canonverse)

WHY DOESN'T THIS HAVE MORE HITS?? 

Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

 Good Calls, MemeKonHQ (MemeKonYA) (4k. T. canonverse)

Captain Kenma, captain Kenma!

His first morning practice as a third year starts with a blur of gray and red moving fast towards him on his peripheral vision the moment he sets foot inside the gym, and then a pair of lanky arms gracelessly falling over him as Lev contorts himself in all sorts of ways to properly envelop him like some sort of octopus.

“Kenma-san!” He basically screams, thankfully far away enough from his sensitive ears that it doesn’t outright hurt. Lev puts his chin over the crown of his head and Kenma sighs, “Kenma-san! I am so happy! Some of the other second years thought you would bail on us! But you didn’t! Now you can keep tossing to me.”

(Or: Kenma's third year. Or part of it.)

 even if you're ahead for a bit, i will catch up, by ghostpot (4k. G. canonverse)

Kuroo sticking to it. 

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around. 

the golden route, by astersandstuff (12k. T. canonverse/road trip au)

Why is it so hard to find good kuroken fics? This is so good, though. Kenma and Kuroo in a van, on the road, kisses, and mackerel pike. 

“It’s a three-and-a-half hour walk,” Kenma points out, on the subject of the cat’s home in a town inside Ama District. “Why aren’t we taking the train?”

“That cancels out the point of a road trip,” Kuroo argues.

“Railroads are roads.”

“We’re currently leading a frugal existence.”

-

Or, in which two childhood friends go on a road trip and Kenma builds up a quest.

 love's not the way to treat a friend, by girltalk (8k. T. canonverse/post-canon)

How sweet! To be each other’s life lines. Drunk Bokuto is the best boy. 

There’s really nothing quite as revelatory as the silent minutes spent in bed during the aftermath of a wet dream involving you and your high-school best friend. 

 the walk home, by skiecas (42k. T. canonverse) 

Gorgeous. Author writes kurokens dynamic growing childhood through adulthood absolutely wonderfully. 

Kenma reluctantly spoons vanilla into his mouth, watching the sun set. And when everything is dusted in stripes of pale orange and purple and gold, he glances at Kuroo’s profile muddled in the shadows of the descending sun, and wonders whether he had somehow accidentally made friends with an impressive sort of boy. The ice-cream melted under his thumb feels maddeningly sticky, like he’ll never wash it away thoroughly enough and it would leave its mark wherever he touched before he could.

Kenma has never really thought of anyone as good-looking before, never really cared enough about these things to notice them. But Kuroo is objectively so, in this light, in this angle—maybe all the time.

(A Kuroo and Kenma life story, told in five acts).

[notchesandbullets]

BNHA: Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader) Masterlist

"You're safe now." He murmured into your hair as he held your trembling form, his sturdy tail wrapping around your waist and tightening to let you know that you weren't alone. "I've got you."

You were captured by Quirk Traffickers a long time ago. Abandoned by your parents, you bounced from owner to owner until you finally were presented with an opportunity to escape. Taking it without question, that's when you ran into him.

You're taken in by Aizawa and allowed to stay. Protected by your new family and friends, you're finally allowed to experience life to its fullest.

Contains reluctant Aizawa to soft Dadzawa, annoying brother Shinsou, pure Eri-chan, bakugou's notorious cursing, sweet and innocent fluff between reader-chan and Ojiro. First friend Ojiro to best friend and then lover. Featuring the rest of Class 1-A and them acting like hooligans.

This was supposed to be a 2k word oneshot but look what happened. credits for the anon who wanted a oneshot of ojiro giving reader a gift that spurred on this entirely self-indulgent fanfic xD ive been working on this for a month.

Barely any angst, mostly fluff overload because i couldnt help myself.

Word Count so far: 78k

Part 1 :  Crashing into Ojiro, Room Competition, meeting Class 1-A and Aizawa, who has some bad news for you when you’re discovered. (7k)

Part 2 :  Aizawa’s reluctant dad side kicks in when he sees you’re clearly distressed, fast friends with Midoriya, fluff with the girls of 1-A, Todoroki and Sato. (5.7k)

Part 3 :  Reuniting with Ojiro, protective Sero and Shoji, Aizawa’s temporary guardianship, Koda’s adorable rabbit and naptime. (4.8k)

Part 4 : Surprising them at school, Principal Nezu’s arrangement, Ojiro’s determination when it comes to anything concerning your health and safety. (4.2k)

Part 5 : Mall trip with the girls plus Kaminari, Shoji and Ojiro as you’re all followed by your scruffy homeroom teacher that would much rather sleep than chaperone you all. It’s not exactly what you expected when you’re cornered the second you’re left alone. (5k)

Part 6 : Shopping for clothes, food court and boba experience served with Ashido’s endless shipping and topped off with an incredibly protective Dadzawa. (5.8k)

Part 7 : Returning to Heights Alliance, Bakugou vs you, movie night at the dorms!! (3.8k)

Part 8 :  A kind gesture for Aizawa gone wrong, compensated for with a ton of fluff and shenanigans by the big three. Aizawa also being 100% done with Yamada. (4k)

Part 9 : Playdate with Ojiro’s little sister. You calling Aizawa ‘Dad’ for the first time. (4.3k)

Bonus Chapter : Clinginess (0.9k)

Part 10 : Class 1-A has a habit of spoiling you with presents of all kinds, Ojiro wants his gift for you to be special. His younger sister gives him an idea. (3.8k)

Part 11 : Internship with Hound Dog, Aizawa’s totally not jealous. You and Shinsou get along great, except when you don’t. Kayama and Yamada’s endless teasing of Aizawa who’s turned into a total dad to you both. Heavily inspired by the picture included. (4.7k)

Part 12 : The day for the Provisional Licensing Exam has arrived!! You attend to spectate along with your dad, when he runs into an old colleague of his. Aizawa gets reassured that he’s not a terrible father. Then, an unknown threat turns into an unexpected surprise (feat Todoroki) when a tuff of grey fur shows up. Class 1-A is chaotic and it’s even worse when you’re in the mix. (8.4k)

Part 13 :  After Aizawa gets hurt, you and Shinsou speed over to the hospital to make sure he’s okay and yell at him for worrying you like that. Ojiro tags along to give his support as well as check in on the four of his classmates that were hurt in the yakuza fight. A week later, Aizawa brings you in, hoping that you can connect with the little girl that they rescued and encourage her to eat something. He didn’t expect it to go so well but now he has one more little joy to look after. (6.7k)

Part 14 : Shinsou receives some surprising news, Eri-chan is adorable and Aizawa is 100% a proud dad. When you get back to Heights Alliance, Hagakure and Ashido have got a few tricks up their sleeves to push you and Ojiro together. Contains hints of all the ships: Kaminari x Jirou, Kirishima x Mina, Todoroki x Midoriya, Asui x Tokoyami. And a riveting game of truth or dare is finally enough for you and Ojiro to face the truth of the reason why your hearts beat so fast when you’re around each other. (9.9k)

[chaoticallysapphic]

Oh my heart

Summary: Lin never expected to have a soulmate, in a world where your mark appears whenever your soulmate is born she grew up completely blank. So when she’s thirty and it finally etches itself around her arm, she vows to never be with the one meant only for her. 

A/N: there is an age gap so if that's not your thing, then please don’t read. This will be a two, maybe three parter and the reader is Korra’s older sister who is also a waterbender, besides that I’ve tried to keep any physical descriptions of her as vague as possible.

Word count: 4k

Lin was terrified. Something she had longed for her entire life had finally appeared but at the worst possible time, those strange words etched onto her forearm stared back at her in a taunting manner, making fun of her new attempt at happiness. You wished for me all your life, aren’t you pleased? The voice in the back of her head taunted, but she wasn’t. A moment meant to be filled with joy was one drenched in dread. Lin had finally accepted her feelings for Tenzin, despite him having had his soulmate mark since he was sixteen. Her glances grew longer, her smile seemed reserved only for him, and she finally felt happy, until now of course. Thirty, that’s how old Lin was, which meant she was thirty years older than her soulmate which seemed wrong, disgusting even, so Lin did what she thought best, she burnt it off. She blamed it on a work-related incident when asked, a pesky firebending criminal got a little to close and she paid the price. No one knew she did it to herself in the darkness of her apartment with tears on her face, a hint of regret gnawing at her heart.

Two months later, Tenzin asked Lin out on a date and despite that nagging feeling that this was so wrong, she accepted. After a few months Tenzin made her forget about the burnt skin on her forearm, the shameful secret she’d take to the grave. She felt happy, so happy, she felt loved and accepted, like maybe she had a shot at a happily ever after despite his mark and her own. Lin knew he’d choose her, knew he loved her, and had nothing to worry about, so she laid her head on his chest as they basked in the sun on Air Temple Island.

                                                            -----

“You can’t force me into wanting kids!” Lin shouted, her hands waving around as she glared at Tenzin, his usual calm demeanor seemed to crack, his voice rising as he shouted back “I’m the last air bender there is! I have to keep the line going, I have to repopulate my kind!”

“I would be a terrible mother, I hate kids and I’d have to leave my job for at least nine months, I just made Chief!” Tenzin pinched the bridge of his nose, his pale complexion turning red with frustration, he loved how dedicated she was to her job, but it seemed to be all she cared about since getting promoted.

“I think we need a break from each other, maybe a week or t-”. Her eyes widened in horror at his words, her hand's grip at her hair in frustration as she cuts him off “fine, but I am coming back in a week and we are working this out for good, I’m tired of this argument.” Without letting him say another word, she stormed out and made her way back to republic city.

As the week dragged on, Lin put her colleagues through hell. Slamming doors so hard the glass on them shattered, an even shorter fuse than normal, she even fired two of her best detectives for trying to ask her what was wrong. Her apartment seemed cold, her nights seemed never-ending and an undeniable sense of dread clawed its way into her heart like she knew he was slipping away. Maybe she could have one kid, to make him happy and keep the air benders going. If it was an earth bender then fine, she’d have another, but she wouldn’t quit her job, wouldn’t loosen up on the hours and Tenzin would understand, right? He’d just be so happy to be a father that he wouldn’t care, he’d always respected her work before, what was to stop him after a kid or two?

She caved, she decided to go back to air temple island on the fifth day, a sense of determination to fix their relationship fueled each step and she tried to dismiss any fear she had of becoming a mother as she made her way up the steps to where she’d known Tenzin would be. In her state, she didn’t notice the pitying looks the acolytes sent her way, all she cared about was finding him. When she found him in the courtyard, she thought nothing of the young woman speaking to Tenzin with a wide grin but when she put her hand on his shoulder mid-laugh, Lin paused. Tenzin noticed her then, a million emotions flashed through his eyes before his shoulders sagged and a sorrowful expression settled on his face, and somehow, she knew.

Who could blame her when she wreaked havoc on a place she once called her sanctuary, when she wished misery on him before leaving her destruction behind, her fists clenched tight as the best thing she ever had slipped through her fingers.

                                                           -----

“Korra!” a feminine voice shouted from behind Tenzin, you pushed past him and ran forward to hug the avatar in the interrogation room, murmuring something to her in a furious tone. Lin rolled her eyes as she looked over at Tenzin who said smoothly “Lin, you are looking radiant as usual.”

“Cut the garbage Tenzin” she replied in an annoyed tone “why is the avatar in republic city? I thought you were supposed to be moving down to the south pole to train her.” you, who came in with Tenzin let go of Korra and walked over to stand by him, your arms crossed over your chest.

“It was too cold for his bald head” you answered right as Tenzin opened his mouth to speak “now why is my sister in so much trou-”. Lin tuned the rest of her words out as shock slammed into her like a rock wall. No. This wasn’t meant to happen, she’d scorched off any chance with her soulmate twenty years ago, or so she thought. But this… this twenty? Yes, a twenty-year-old water tribe girl with brows furrowed, and an expectant look on her face was it. You were what sometimes kept her up at night when she was so lonely it felt like the feeling would surely eat her up as Lin imagined some faceless figure who loved Lin with all their heart, someone who would never leave her.

“Lin?” Tenzin asked, putting his hand on her shoulder which successfully pulled her out of the raging ocean that was her thoughts, no not ocean, definitely nothing water-related. Lin looked into Tenzin's eyes, completely ignoring her one chance at happiness.

“Just get her out of my sight and keep her out of trouble” she practically growled out before storming off. Her heart was racing so fast she’d thought it’d surely give up any second now, maybe she should have known that her hasty decisions from her past would one day come back to sucker punch her in the gut.

“Well that was weird” Lin heard you say behind her as she continued to rush away from you before she accidentally said something. Lin vowed then that she would never say a single word to you. It was better this way anyway, who would want her? Bitter, old, scarred Lin who was practically married to her job and hated all things romantic ever since Tenzin crushed her heart beneath his shoe.

                                                           -----

She learned that your name was y/n a few days later, she heard Korra call out to you at the gala and when Lin followed Korra’s excited figure and her eyes landed on her soulmate, the wind was successfully knocked out of her for the second time since meeting y/n. You were wearing a deep blue satin dress that went down to the floor with a blue sheer shoulder shawl that had silver snowflakes embroidered onto it. Your hair was down instead of up, and you had a small amount of makeup on, just a bit of rouge and red lipstick. Lin thought it was the perfect amount, any more and it might distract someone from your beautiful eyes, or your enchanting smile. Her heart began to pound despite her desperate attempt at keeping her emotions in check. A large part of her hated this, hated you, and what this feeling blooming in her chest meant.

When Bolin came up to you and threw an arm over your shoulder, which caused you to laugh, Lin remembered that it would never happen. She shoved her feelings down and turned away from you as her thoughts went from how beautiful you were to how you would never love her.

Later on in the evening, Tarlock calls Lin over and she sees you peek around Korra to eye her curiously, a look of intrigue settles on your features as Lin pushes down any feelings she has at the fact that you’re looking at her and it feels like her whole body is on fire under your stare. “I believe you and avatar Korra have already met” Tarlock looks over at her with that sly look of his that she’s already determined means he’s up to no good.

“Just because the city is throwing you this big to do, don’t think you’re something special. You’ve done absolutely nothing to deserve this” she says to Korra, leaning down a bit to glare at the young avatar. Your curious gaze turns to one of annoyance as you glare at Lin. “Hey! Who gave you the right to be mean to my little sister,” you step in front of Korra almost protectively, as you stare her down. Don’t speak to her, look away, don’t reply, she tells herself. Lin turns on her feet and walks off, trying to seem as if she doesn’t care about what you said. “Why does she always ignore me?” she hears you say in an exasperated tone before she loses your voice over the loud music playing nearby.

                                                           -----

When Tenzin stands next to Lin at the pro-bending arena with you by his side, she’s not surprised. It seems the universe has decided to continuously throw you in her face, dangling you teasingly despite knowing her decision regarding your bond. You're holding a bag of fire flakes as you eagerly watch your sisters match, but soon your once excited expression turns to annoyance once the game starts. The Wolf Bats tipped the referee off. Lin wants to go beat the referee up until he starts being fair, just to see you smile once more.

“C’mon! This is bullshit” you shout as the Wolf Bats gain another point. Lin can’t help but notice the way your nose scrunches up as you continue to shout at the referee or how your hair which originally was pushed behind your ears has come loose and is framing your face so beautifully. Her left hand unconsciously grazes over her armor where her burn mark is as she watches you, completely tuning the game out. As Tenzin goes to shout something alongside you, his eyes catch Lin staring at you with a look of longing, he takes a step closer to Lin causing her to tear her eyes away from you and back to the match.

“Lin....” Tenzin begins but she clears her throat and mutters out a sharp “drop it.” To which Tenzin does, for now. Later on, as the match intensifies, Lin says “I can’t believe your sweet-tempered father was reincarnated into that girl, she’s tough as nails.” Lin doesn’t see it, but you smile at her words before deciding to tune out the rest of the conversation between the two, too focused on your sister to care.

You're practically seething at the outcome of this botched game, fire flakes are flying out of the bag as you shout in anger, not noticing the figure approaching with sinister intentions. By the time you do, it's because you're in excruciating pain as something electrifies you, your vision blurs and you make out Lin dropping onto the floor. The figure who electrocuted you steps over your body, you reach out to the Airbender, trying to warn him but nothing comes out of your mouth as he falls to the floor beside you. Soon your eyes droop closed due to the pain despite trying your hardest to stay awake.

When Lin awakens her muscles feel like they're about to give out and she lets out a weak groan as she slowly goes to stand up. Her eyes land on you the second her vision is no longer a blur and her heart fills with panic as she sees an equalist take you into their arms. She stumbles forward, not fully awake, and catches the attention of your capture. You let out a pained groan, in your unconscious state, the sound tugs at her heart and she’s suddenly filled with boiling rage. The equalist is shaking as he continues to stumble backward, another appears to help him take you away and without a second thought Lin shoots out her wires and wraps them around both of their ankles, she gives them a harsh yank which causes them to fall to the ground with a loud thud, for good measure she cuffs them to the floor, warping the metal of the floor beneath them around their wrists and ankles. You land on top of your capture, your eyes begin to flutter behind your lids and you finally stir awake. Pain wraps around your muscles, in your head you think maybe it's best to just lay still, momentarily forgetting about your situation.

You let out a whimper, knocking Lin out of her frozen state as she had gazed at you. Lin rushes forward and wraps an arm around your waist as she pulls you up onto your feet, you open your eyes, blinking the blurriness out of your eyesight. Lin takes you over to the railing as Tenzin also begins to regain consciousness and she props you up against the metal railing. You stare up at her in confusion, your mind is buzzing a mile a minute, not only at the situation at hand but at how her arms felt wrapped around you. “Uhm… Thanks for that.”

“Amon probably ordered them to kidnap you to hurt Korra” she replies, not realizing what she’s just done. Your eyes widen in shock at her words but before she can even notice your shocked state an explosion sets off behind you, sheets of metal from the bending platform go flying and she wraps her arms around you, forcing you to duck down so she can shield you with her body. You pull up a wave of water to protect you from oncoming flames. The heat of the steam from the water causes you both to begin sweating before the flames from the explosion recede only seconds later. You let go of the water, suddenly the discovery of Lin’s secret doesn’t seem so important as you think of your sister. When you passed out she was in the water below, surely she’s somewhere safe, right?

As if to answer your question, Korra appears as she hurtles herself up into the air with a large twisting waterspout. As it begins to falter and then completely goes out you let out a shout filled with terror “Korra!” Lin quickly gets up and shoots her metal wire out towards the roof to send her flying across the arena towards the avatar, before Korra can hit the fiery platform below, she shoots out a second wire to her waist and with all her might yanks her up into the air.

You stand beside Tenzin with wide eyes and bated breath, suddenly the two most important women in your life, I mean Lin has been ignoring you and you’ll have to figure out why later but she is your soulmate which does make her incredibly important to you, are out of your sight and dangerously fighting above as you uselessly stand there with your water bending abilities that won’t get you up there to help fight off equalists. Not being able to just stand by you summon water from below and create an ice bridge to the platform, if you can’t fight, you can try to put out the raging fire caused by the explosion.

“Y/n, wait!” Tenzin calls after but you're long gone. If you just stand there you’ll go insane and you have powers that can help, even if you don't get to kick some equalist ass.  Up above Lin finally lands on the glass dome and immediately sets out to take down as many people as she can at once, Korra watches in amazement for a moment as she wraps her wire at some guys foot and slams him into the roof before she gets knocked off the rope and lands onto the dome with a loud thud and the crackling of the glass starting to break below her.

It’s a collision of fire and electricity with metal wires flying towards the men and from below where you are using all your strength to put out the fire, it looks almost beautiful with the sparks of blue and flashes of red if not for the current circumstances. Tenzin has taken to help you with the fire by trying to use air to snuff it out. Suddenly glass from above sprinkles around them and you look up to see your little sister free falling once more.

“Tenzin can you do something with your air?!” You shout and he goes to try and send a force of air to help slow her down but she's going too fast, she’s flailing and if she doesn’t do something soon she’ll most likely die from the impact. As you run to the edge of the platform to try and save her yourself, Lin appears from above Korra and shoots a small wire to her so she can hold onto it like a rope.

Your shoulders sag in relief as you stumble away from the edge and use everything you’ve got to summon a massive wave to once and for all put out the fire. It works and the force of the water has it crashing into the stands taking with it some of the seats and any trash left behind in the frenzy. When you see Lin and Korra land  you race off towards the now soaking wet stands, using the water below as a set of frozen stairs to reach them. When you do, Lin has her hand on Korra’s shoulder and is saying something but you don’t make it out before you crush them both in a hug. Some sort of strangled sound of relief bubbles up through your throat as your hold on them tightens.

Korra wraps her arms around you, softly saying “thank the spirits you're okay” as Lin stays perfectly still. As her adrenaline slowly leaves her body and she realizes you aren’t in danger, she suddenly can’t be touched by you. She remains frozen until you pull away, you know it's not the time to bombard her so instead you offer Lin a thankful smile, too worried about how she’d react if you did anything else.

                                                           -----

A few days later you finally let Korra out of your sight, letting her run off to deal with her boy problems as you head towards the main police station. You tried to casually ask Tenzin what kind of tea Lin liked best, to which he’d furrowed his brows and said “why?” You simply shrugged and repeated your question. Apparently, it was jasmine, which was a favorite of yours as well so you stopped by your favorite tea shop and grabbed two to-go cups. As you enter the station you square your shoulders and give yourself a little pep talk “You can do this, you just need to march in and figure out why, maybe butter her up with the tea first of course, and then ask why, that’s if she lets you into the office…” you trail off once your eyes land on the door of Lin’s office, the words “Chief Beifong” are written in gold on the glass door which has a blind pulled down so you can’t see inside, which your slightly grateful for.

“Chief Beifong doesn’t want anyone to disturb her” one of the cops called out, but you ignore him and open the door, who cares, you deserve answers.

“I said I wanted to be alone, how brain dead are yo-” her words cut off as you walk in, balancing two cups in one hand so you can shut the door. You swallow, suddenly being in front of her has made most of your bravado slip away, along with your original plan, leaving you speechless. She doesn’t say anything, seeming to forget that she already spoke to you in the arena. You set the cups down and lift your shirt, which causes Lin to blush but you don’t stop until she can see her own words.

“I used to hate them… y’know,” you say quietly before dropping your shirt back down, Lin glares at her desk. “I used to be jealous of Korra and all the attention she got, so imagine growing up with her name etched onto your skin.”

She goes to open her mouth to speak, most likely to spew out some lie so you beat her to it. “I don’t know why, exactly, you kept it to yourself, I asked Tenzin the other day and he said you didn’t have a mark which is odd seeing as you are my soulmate." You pause, your voice softening, "you could have just told me straight away that you didn’t want me, didn’t want this instead of ignoring my existence and leaving me to wonder what I'd done to offend you.” Finally, she looks up from the desk and you make eye contact with her. You're trying so hard not to cry as you try to figure out what's going through her head, will she kick you out? Is your soulmate going to reject you?

“I thought…” Lin begins, she looks away from you, not being able to look you in the eyes anymore. “I thought I was doing you a favor, I’m old, and I’m not the most personable or charismatic person, I thought maybe you’d want someone your own age, maybe someone like your sisters' teammates.”

“So someone who is young and a guy? Did you think that maybe you should let me decide what I wanted instead of just assuming?”

“Look I gave up on the idea of having a soulmate years ago!” Lin shouts and you flinch away in surprise, “thirty years is a long time, do you know how I felt when those words suddenly appeared on me at thirty?”

“Oh, so you do have a mark!” You let out a disbelieving, angry laugh. “So you just went around telling everyone you didn’t have one, pretending the idea of me, of us, didn’t exist.” Tears cloud your vision and you let out a frustrated groan as you quickly gaze up at the ceiling in an attempt to keep them from falling. Lin’s gaze softens and she slowly stands from her desk.

“Y/n… I thought about it every day, but… We can’t be together, I’m far too old and I’ll just hold you back.” You scoff and aggressively wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks, your heart feels like it's beginning to crack.

“Your mark?” You croak out and cringe at how you sound. Lin hesitated before using her bending to take off the armor on her right arm. On her arm is a massive burn scar, you keep staring at it, not knowing what to say. Did someone else do that to her? As if she can read your thoughts, Lin says softly “I did it to myself a few days after it appeared.”

Oh. So this is what it's like to have your heart cleaved into two, what you felt just minutes before seems like nothing compared to the pain wrapping so tightly around you that it seems hard to breathe. She hated the idea of you so much she'd rather hurt herself and lie to everyone in her life. Without another word you turn your back on your soulmate, despite the sound of calling out to you, just like she did to you twenty years ago.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

My Side

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: language, lots of smut, prostate massage, fluff, some mentions of angst (but it’s very minimal)

Genre: Marriage AU

Word Count: 4K

Summary: Y/N has had her entire future planned out ever since she could remember: step one- graduate college (done), step two- find a good-paying job (done), step three- marry someone she adores (done), and step four- have kids (???). She understands that life is full of obstacles, but is it too much to ask for your husband to finally knock you up?

A/N: Big apology to this anon user who requested this and had to wait like 8 billion years for me to finish it.

The fertility clinic was unusually cold, and I found myself shivering in direct contradiction with the sweltering summer heat collecting outside of the office building. Maybe that was the point: the doctors wanted to keep you totally alert while you waited for what seemed like hours for a standard routine visit. Because I could’ve already fallen asleep at this point - taking advantage of my day off from work to do something other than fret over the working condition of my reproductive system.

Of course, there was also the issue of my grumpy husband who had been thoroughly displeased when he found out exactly what a pap smear test implied. “He was totally checking you out when we came in,” Chan said. “Then, he insisted on sticking that thing up your vagina?”

“Oh, give it a rest, Chan,” I said. “I knew they would do that before I even came here.”

“I think he just wanted to look at your pussy,” Chan insisted. “And he did it right in front of me like I didn’t even exist!”

“You weren’t forced to stay in the room,” I pointed out, which I would’ve preferred but Chan insisted on standing over me like some kind of jealous observer who actually wanted to watch such an intimate procedure. 

“Yeah, he would’ve preferred that,” Chan said, leaning further back in his chair. “How the hell is this even supposed to help us? We’ve only been trying for a few months.”

“Well, I want to make sure everything is working properly,” I said, and (just to spite him) I glanced down at his crotch. “What if you’re having performance issues, honey?”

“My dick works just fine,” Chan insisted. “But you know what? I think it’s partially your fault that we can’t pregnant. You’re putting too much pressure on him and it’s hard for me to focus.”

“Him?” I questioned with a grin. "Do you really want to personify your penis?”

“That’s not the point!” Chan exclaimed. “Did you even hear me, Y/N?”

“But what is the point, Chan? What exactly are you having trouble focusing on?” I asked. “We’re talking about fucking, not a tax audit. Keep the office out of our bedroom.”

“You don’t think I know the difference?”

“Apparently not since it requires more effort than necessary for you to orgasm,” I screeched, barely getting the words out before the doctor’s return.

Immediately, Chan and I were both forced smiles, pretending like we weren’t just having a pointless argument. “Well,” the doctor said. “Everything is fine on your end, Mrs. Bang. I guess that means we can perform some tests on your husband.”

“Oh, that would be great,” I said, even as Chan shifted restlessly from next to me. “Is there anything you need?”

“We’d like to ask you for a sperm sample,” the doctor replied while handing Chan a clear, transparent plastic cup that he accepted with obvious hesitation. “I’ll give you some time.”

“Thank you,” I said, looking over at Chan who was glaring at the cup as if personally offended by its presence.

But at least he waited until the doctor was gone before looking at me with wide eyes. “What do I do?” Chan asked, holding up the plastic cup while appearing thoroughly taken aback.

“It’s just masturbating,” I hissed at him.

“They want me to jerk off into this cup?” Chan gasped like the idea was so totally perplexing to him.

“How else will they get a sperm sample?” I asked him, rolling my eyes because I was growing impatient.

But Chan still hesitated, using one hand to hold the cup while his other traveled down to the front of his jeans. “Do I just...”

“Yes!” I shouted while standing up from my chair. “It’s nothing hard, Chan, you’ve been masturbating since 9th grade!” 

“Yeah, but it’s embarrassing to do it here,” Chan argued, and I sighed for what had to be the thousandth time that day.

“There’s a curtain for privacy,” I said, reaching for my bag from the floor. “I’ll be waiting outside until you’re done.”

“Y/N!” Chan whined, but I left without another word, hoping that Chan could get his shit together because I was exhausted and the prospect of the bed waiting for me at home was suddenly everything that I wanted.

It turned out that Chan and I were both perfectly healthy, and there should be nothing impeding my ability to finally get pregnant. Chan even managed to smile after our doctor complimented his sperm because they were powerful swimmers or whatever the hell that meant. But that had also been hours ago, and after a well-deserved nap, I was feeling exceptionally horny. Thankfully, Chan was never the type to turn down sex, and a few innocent kisses had turned into a full-blown pornography session within moments of me circling my hips against the front of his jeans.

“Fuck me, Chan,” I said, and he nodded eagerly as we both helped each other escape the obstacle of our clothes.

“You should apologize to my dick first,” Chan said teasingly when he had me spread open in front of him, fisting his cock as he started jerking himself off.

“What? Why?”

“You questioned my performance earlier,” Chan said with a shit-eating grin. “Maybe my cock isn’t good enough for you.”

“It’s fine,” I said, whining when I tried to wrap my hand around the base of his erection, only to have Chan knock it away with a sharp growl. "Alright!” I groaned. “I’m sorry I questioned your all-powerful shaft, okay? So, can you please just fuck me already?”

Chan chuckled at my easy compliance, and he ran his thumb across the slit of his cock before positioning himself at my wet entrance. “Remember that next time, Y/N,” he said, exhaling shakily when he started to push inside.

“Shit!” I cried, reaching out for his broad shoulders as I held on as tight as possible for the ride waiting ahead of me.

“Such a tight cunt,” Chan remarked, pausing a moment to grind himself against my insides just to feel the pressure around his cock.

“Go faster,” I requested, throwing my head back when he complied, smacking his hips into mine as he searched for the perfect angle to leave me seeing stars.

“Yeah?” Chan purred, and he started thrusting faster than before, dragging his cock against the pulsating walls of my cunt, forcing more arousal to leak out around him. “Look at how good you always take my cock, baby.”

I reveled in the praise, craning my neck to the side just so that I could watch him disappear inside of me over and over again to match the sensation of his thick cock filling me up so well that it was almost mind-numbingly good. The best part was the pleasing sound of Chan’s moans, and I admired the way that he held himself up over me so that his muscles were practically bulging as he rolled his hips with seductive grinds. Meanwhile, I was drooling over the visual of his bulging biceps, whining underneath him because Chan was being unusually rough. Not that I would ever complain since every thrust managed to brush the tip of his cock perfectly against my cervix.

But it was only after Chan reached down to add a finger to the already tight fit of his cock inside my pussy that I remembered something that I had read on the internet as part of my endless pregnancy research. My eyes flew open at the reminder, and the lustful haze surrounding my sex-addled brain quickly vanished. “Hold on, Chan,” I said, pushing against his chest and disrupting the steady rhythm he had been maintaining.

“W-what?” Chan stuttered, pulling out while watching me roll over onto my stomach. 

“This is a better position,” I said, raising my ass high into the air before giving him a teasing wiggle. 

“Whatever,” Chan grunted, still too gone in his pleasure to care that much about my shenanigans. He immediately caged me in with his thighs, fumbling with his erect cock before aligning the tip with my aching cunt. I was relieved when he started jostling his cock back where it belonged, meandering in elegant strokes that resulted in the best friction.

“Make sure you come,” I told him while decorating the pale skin of his shoulders with nail marks as I reached behind me. 

“You first,” Chan insisted, and my heart warmed at his selflessness even while it felt like all the blood inside of me was rushing south, moving through my veins and spilling over with a rapid descent that left me seeing white while Chan moved even quicker, thrusting like a man deprived. 

I felt him come only moments later with the familiar heat that I had grown to appreciate more and more over the last few months. Thereafter, I immediately reached for a pillow from behind me, wincing at the sensitivity that lingered between my legs. “What are you doing?” Chan asked when he collapsed on the bed next to me.

“It’s supposed to help,” I said, raising my hips to place the pillow directly underneath me. “This article said that raising your legs after sex can improve your chances.”

“That seems ridiculous, Y/N,” Chan said. 

“Hey! Blame your sperm,” I countered. “It’s not my fault they need an extra boost.”

“My sperm are just fine,” Chan grunted. “You heard the doctor. They’re excellent swimmers.”

“This is just a precaution,” I told him, sighing in relief when I reached down to cup my heat, ensuring that all of Chan’s cum stayed inside where it belonged.

For the past several weeks, work had become something of a chore that I was forced to endure on a regular basis. It was often a struggle to force my way through piles of paperwork or tedious emails that always said much of the same thing. After a while, I would find myself glaring at the clock because I was quite certain that time was moving slow for the sole purpose of annoying me.

There was also the issue of dealing with my colleagues, especially the ones who liked to gossip and had effectively made a whole thing out of my failed attempts at pregnancy. “Oh, Y/N,” they would tell me. “It’s been three months, hasn’t it?”

Like they didn’t have anything better to do with their lives besides meddle in mine. But the worst of them all were the ones who decided that they were some kind of authority figures and tried to give me helpful “advice.” Everything from the shit that I had already heard from my doctor and the articles online, to bizarre practices that left me wondering where they found their information.

My manager’s personal assistant was a frequent advocate. She was far more insistent than the rest of them because she already had two kids at home who she described as future Mozarts in the making. And because she had already been successful (twice, I might add), she always sat next to me at lunch with a new suggestion that supposedly guaranteed fertilization.

“It could be that he’s under too much pressure,” she told me before biting into her salad.

“I’m asking him to have sex with me, not invent a new computer,” I grumbled.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ve both been having a lot of sex, which might seem like a good idea,” she continued. “But it might actually turn out to be far worse.”

“What do you suggest then? Should I kick him out of the bedroom for a week or two?” I snarked, but she was hardly bothered by my sarcastic attitude.

“My husband and I tried stimulating him more directly,” she explained. “Maybe you could try it out.”

“How so?”

“It’s something like a prostate massage,” she revealed in a hushed tone as if it was top-secret information. “There’s all kinds of information about it on the internet.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said, wanting nothing more than to brush aside her words, but maybe I was too desperate because I found myself skimming through countless articles after lunch, soaking in the vast amounts of information that I uncovered.

And I left the office that day with a new strategy in mind to surprise my husband.

The moment I first walked through the door, I was yanking off my jacket and calling for Chan who ducked his head out of our bedroom. “Why the hell are you yelling?”

“Because I have a wonderful idea,” I said, practically skipping over to him and offering him a deep kiss.

“Y/N,” Chan murmured against my touch, grabbing my shoulders to pull me back. “What are you going on about?”

“Just take your stupid clothes off,” I said, skirting past him into the bedroom. “I want you naked on the bed.”

“You’re already horny?” Chan chuckled, but he made no protest of yanking his shirt over his head.

“I want to try something,” I told him, opening the door to our closet to search for something that we hadn’t used together in a long time.

“Should I be afraid?” Chan asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as he fisted his half-hard erection.

“Not if you have an open mind,” I said, turning around to hold up the bottle of lube, and Chan’s smile instantly vanished.

“What’s that for?”

“Well, tonight I’m using it on you,” I said, laughing at the way his forehead creased in confusion. “My co-worker actually made a pretty useful recommendation today.”

“Okay?...” Chan trailed off with an expression of perfect concentration - like he was doing his absolute best to understand.

“The internet called it prostate milking,” I explained, biting my lower lip to keep myself from laughing at the horrified expression on Chan’s face. “I want to stimulate your prostate.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” Chan asked.

“Look, it has a lot of medical benefits,” I said. “Plus, I read that it can feel really good.”

Chan squired anxiously on the bed when I sat down next to him, and I could see that his cock was perfectly flaccid between his legs. “I don’t know, Y/N-”

“Don’t worry,” I interrupted him. “This is perfectly normal. Now, be a good boy for me and get on your hands and knees.”

Chan frowned. “Good boy?” he grumbled before obeyed my command, crawling his way up the bed to position himself in the way I had suggested.

“There we go,” I said, softly running a hand down his spine. 

“So far, I’m not impressed,” Chan muttered.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” I said, situating myself behind him before palming his ass. “This looks better than I remember, Channie.”

“Yeah, I guess the squats helped,” Chan said, and he flinched when I snapped a glove in place over my right hand. “What’s that for?”

“You think I’m gonna mess around your ass without a glove?” I snorted. “That’s not very hygienic.”

“Hygienic, yeah, okay,” Chan huffed, and he let out a noise somewhere between a whine and a grunt when I opened the bottle of lube and drizzled some on my fingertips. 

“Hold still,” I said, trying to get him to relax when my finger started circling his asshole, pushing against the tight muscle which wasn’t so easy to penetrate. However, with enough perseverance, I forced one finger inside and heard Chan release a rather unattractive sound.

“How does it feel?” I asked him, trying to move my finger around like I had read online.

“It just feels like you’ve shoved your finger up my ass,” Chan snapped, and I knew not to take it personally since he wasn’t so willing to go along with my crazy scheme in the first place.

“Don’t be so tense,” I said, rubbing my hand along his lower back. “Should I use more lube?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, Y/N,” Chan groaned, and I could tell that he was growing frustrated.

I was also losing confidence - wondering if this had been a bad idea because it definitely wasn’t as easy as my co-worker promised. Plus, I could tell that Chan was uncomfortable, squirming around under me while his cock hung limply between his legs. Clearly, he wasn’t finding any pleasure from this, and maybe it was entirely my fault for jumping into this without more preparation. 

“Shit, Chan,” I said, removing my finger while releasing a sigh. “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have done this.”

I cleared my throat, feeling increasingly anxious when Chan refused to respond to my apology. He was still supporting himself on his hands in front of me, chest heaving up and down with each breath. I could see that the bright red tint to his ears betrayed his embarrassment and that only made me feel worse because the last thing I wanted to do was make this bad for him.

Eventually, Chan rolled off to the side of the bed, collecting his sweatpants from the floor before walking into the bathroom. I closed my eyes when the door slammed behind him, and I quietly left the bedroom to give Chan some privacy because it was obvious that he wasn’t pleased with the situation. 

So much for my co-worker’s stupid suggestion.

However, in the grand scheme of things, I was always the first to recognize when my actions warranted reprimand. 

After sleeping on the couch in the living room, I woke-up with a sore lower back and a guilty conscious. Chan had already left for work that morning, and he probably hadn’t paid me a single glance. But I probably deserved his wrath, which meant I would do everything that I could to make it up to him.

Consequently, I found myself flashing a bright smile at Chan’s office secretary who greeted me politely before calling Chan’s phone to see if he had some time to see me. There was a small part of me which worried that Chan might send me away because of last night’s events. Thankfully, his secretary waved me inside and I took a deep breath before opening the door while carrying the packed lunch I prepared for him.

Once inside, Chan offered me a cursory glance that only lasted a brief moment until his attention was once again focused on the file in front of him. “Channie,” I said, wincing at my shrill tone. “I brought you some lunch.”

I hesitated when Chan didn’t respond - walking over to his desk to carefully deposit the bag on his desk. I waited for a brief moment, but Chan refused to acknowledge me, which meant I needed to approach him more directly.  “I’m sorry about last night, Channie,” I said, coming around his desk to perch myself on the edge. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m also sorry about the past few months because I’ve been so desperate to finally have my positive pregnancy test that I started to really neglect you.”

The pen Chan had been writing with stopped in the middle of whatever sentence he had been writing, and my husband finally allowed me the privilege of looking into his dark brown eyes. “It’s hard for me to stay mad at you, Y/N,” Chan said, and I nearly burst into tears at the simple declaration.

“You deserve to be mad at me,” I said. “I can’t believe you let me get away with acting like this. You should get the husband of the year award or whatever.”

Chan chuckled, tossing his pencil aside. “Sweetheart, I know how much this means to you, and I want it just as much, but maybe it would be nice if we could be intimate sometimes without worrying about whether or not we’re following all those advice columns you read.”

“You’re right,” I agreed, and I pushed myself away from the edge of the desk and fell onto my knees in front of him - reaching out to grab his thighs between my hands. “What if I blew you right here in the office?”

Chan’s answering moan was enough to solidify my resolve, and I easily worked apart the belt fastening around his suit pants. My fingers worked with an experienced touch because this wasn’t the first time we had done something like this in his big executive office and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. “Fuck, Y/N,” Chan said, grabbing large handfuls of my hair while directing my lips closer to his exposed cock-head. 

“Let me take care of you, darling,” I said, offering a tentative lick to his pulsating tip. Chan was already hard, and I gave him a few strokes with my hand before allowing my mouth to take care of the rest - opening wide to take him as deep as I could without gagging. 

“Look at you,” Chan snarled, and his fingers traced the seam of my lips stretched obscenely around his cock. 

I moaned around his erection, and Chan closed his eyes as he fingers tightened their hold - hips moving every so often to force his cock even further down my throat. But I’m sure it made for one hell of a visual, and I hollowed my cheeks as I ran my tongue across the distinct vein trailing along the underside. 

“Keep going,” Chan said, and I could tell that he was close. And I started bobbing my head up and down, mimicking the same effect of his cock fucking my pussy, relaxing my throat and encouraging Chan to do whatever he needed to push himself over the edge.

He eventually came with an exaggerated groan, and I wrinkled my nose at the taste of him. Yet, I knew better than to let anything go to waste, and I struggled around the rawness of my throat as I swallowed - swiping my tongue around the head of his spent cock to clean up the excess.

“Was it good?” I asked him with a hoarse voice.

“Of course it was,” Chan replied, encouraging me off the floor and into his lap. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as I listened to his heart slow back down to normal. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said, teasing his lips across mine. “You’re not gonna freak out over the fact that we just wasted my perfectly good semen?”

I rolled my eyes before playfully hitting his shoulder. “It’s never a waste if it makes you come like that.”

He smiled, bringing out the fullness of his dimples, and we sat together while Chan ate his lunch and I mindlessly talked about the latest office gossip. It was moments like these that I loved more than anything about my marriage to Chan - pregnancy be damned. Ironically, it was only a few weeks later that I found myself looking down at a thin white strip with a blue cross displayed across the surface: positive.