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hintsofhoney · 1 year ago

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Suburban Legends

Pairing(s): Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve finally forces himself to confront his feelings at his ten year high school reunion.

Tags: 18+, fluff, pining, kissing, general horniness

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: I have never read a Steddie fic in my life but this came to me when I was listening to Suburban Legends by Taylor Swift the other day and I'm not mad about it. Thank you to my loves @makeadealwithdean and @wayward-dreamer for beta-ing 🤍 Enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Steve stared at the Welcome Back Hawkins High Class of ‘85! banner strung up over the gymnasium entrance, the green and orange stripes on the brick walls even more chipped and faded after ten additional years of wear and tear. He brought the plastic cup in his hand to his lips, recoiling when the taste of champagne flooded his mouth instead of punch. For some reason, he hadn’t thought they would be serving alcohol at this thing, regardless of his graduating class being two years away from 30. Being back in this gym made him feel like he was a teenager again, and he was wondering who spiked the punch bowl.

He watched the green doors as more of his former classmates filed in, and the DJ started to play Don’t You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds to get the party going. Steve huffed a laugh through his nose and shook his head, thinking back to the last time he’d heard that song. He remembered Eddie Munson reenacting the ending scene of The Breakfast Club on the football field nine years ago, after he finally walked the stage with the class of ‘86 and was handed his diploma. He had gotten some of the Hellfire kids to hack the loudspeakers and blast the song so he could live out his John Bender fantasy. Steve pushed the thought out of his head, just like he had trained himself to do anytime Eddie Munson crept into his mind. It had been nine years since he’d last seen the metalhead, since Steve ran out of the woods behind the football field that summer, nauseous and dizzy and paranoid, hoping no one had been hiding in the bushes to witness what had happened. Which was nothing, really – their lips hadn’t even touched – but it was closer than anything Steve could have handled at the time. He never saw Eddie again; rumor was that he had packed up his bags and went to chase his dreams in LA, and Steve decided to go to IU after all, and that was that. Anything that he and Eddie had was left in 1986. At least, that’s what Steve had kept telling himself.

“Harringtooon!” Tommy Hagan yelled through cupped hands, pulling Steve out of his thoughts. Carol was hanging onto his arm, and Steve tried to hide his surprised expression because that was not the couple that he had thought was going to withstand the test of time.

“Hey, Tommy! Carol!” Steve replied, pulling Tommy into a “bro hug” and giving Carol a pat on her shoulder. “Jesus, it’s been forever. How are you guys?”

“Good, man. Uhm –” Tommy paused and looked over at Carol, a questioning look on his face, and Carol nodded and smiled, her hand coming to rub over her belly as she smoothed her dress against her skin, revealing a barely-there bump.

“No way!” Steve exclaimed, his eyes growing wide. “Congratulations, guys!”

Tommy waved him off. “Thanks, man.” He pulled Carol into his side and gave her a quick kiss on her temple. Steve felt like he had stepped into an alternate universe, one where Tommy Hagan wasn’t an insufferable asshole and was actually fit to be a father. But he supposed that was what happened when you left your hometown and didn’t come back for nine years; people change even if everything else stays the same.

He spent a few minutes catching up with Tommy and Carol, who were “the Hagans” now, his eyes occasionally darting to the door to see if anyone else he cared to see had shown up, but most of his closest friends were a grade, if not grades below him. He found himself wishing that Henderson was here.

“Oh my God,” Carol suddenly snorted, and Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he followed her gaze. “Is that…?”

Steve gulped. “Munson, yeah.”

Tommy’s question of, “What is he even doing here? He wasn’t in our class, was he?” faded to the background as Steve focused in on his former best-friend-turned-crush-turned-stranger. He looked completely different, but exactly the same. His dark curls were pulled back into a ponytail, and he had black rectangle-framed glasses on. He was wearing black slacks and a white dress shirt rolled halfway up his forearms, a black and red tie around his neck that seemed to be the same pattern as the electric guitar he had in high school. His arm tattoos were on full display, which seemed to have tripled in the last decade. Steve’s eyes traveled back to Eddie’s face, his mouth going dry when he realized he had been caught staring. He quickly turned his attention to the cup in his hand, clearing his throat in front of Tommy and Carol.

“I’m, um –” Steve downed the remainder of his drink, hoping it would give him the courage he needed. “I’m gonna go ask what he’s doing here.”

He approached Eddie cautiously, not knowing how he would be received. He hoped nine years had been long enough to squash any remaining awkward tension, but then again, nine years hadn’t erased the thoughts of Eddie from Steve’s mind. He waited for Eddie to finish a conversation with a woman Steve didn’t recognize, before awkwardly clearing his throat once again, willing for Eddie to hear him over the music.

Eddie turned his head slowly, and then, “Steve Harrington, you son of a bitch.” He had a shit-eating grin on his face and Steve’s nerves dissipated almost instantly.

“Hey, Eds,” Steve grinned back, and suddenly it felt like no time had passed at all.

Eddie huffed a soft laugh. “Haven’t heard that nickname in a long time.” He stared down at the drink in his cup, swirling it around.

Just like that, Steve’s nerves were back. There’s one thing he had forgotten about Eddie — he could be so damn hard to read. “I – um – sorry.”

“Didn’t say I didn’t like it, Stevie.”

And now Steve felt like he was going to hurl. No one’s called him Stevie since, well, 1986. He swallowed down some champagne that was threatening to come to the surface along with all the feelings he’d spent a decade ignoring.

“What – um – what are you doing here?” Steve finally asked.

Eddie smirked before downing the rest of his drink. “I teach here, believe it or not.”

Steve chuckled. “Right. Or not.” When Eddie’s face remained serious, Steve raised his eyebrows. “You’re kidding. You ?”

“A lot can change in nine years, Harrington.”

“Right — yeah — I mean — I just — they hated you.”

Eddie laughed softly. “That they did. But I was in LA for a few years and it wasn’t for me. Place is a shithole, worse than here, Stevie. Can you believe that? Anyway, uh, well, Wayne wasn’t doing too hot so I moved back to help take care of him and got a job teaching these little shitheads music.”

“And you like it?”

“Love it,” he grinned, and Steve knew he was being genuine. “What about you, Harrington? What have you been up to since…?”

“Right. Uh, well, I went to IU, got a business degree, and now I’m managing a small company in Bloomington. And no, I don’t like it.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “And, uh… wife? Kids?”

Steve snorted. “No.”

“You could always move back to Hawkins, you know.”

“Right. Don’t tempt me, Munson.”

Eddie smiled. “It really is good to see you, Stevie. I’m glad I got guilted into working tonight.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head. “Yeah, uh, me too. See you around?”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

The reunion seemed to last forever, and if Steve was being honest, he would have left two hours ago if Eddie hadn’t been here. People were finally leaving, though, and without asking if he could, Steve followed suit in picking up everyone’s trash. He knew it would be obvious to Eddie at least, why he was staying back, but he felt himself not caring for the first time in a long time. He wasn’t entirely sure what these feelings were, but he found himself leaning into them instead of pretending that they didn’t exist. Maybe it was because he was older now, or because the world was different, or because he longed for the closure that he never got nine years ago. Or maybe it was all of those things.

He was throwing away a makeshift pyramid of dirty paper plates and plastic cups when Eddie came up beside him.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. This was your high school reunion.”

Steve chuckled. “I’d feel more at home at your ten year reunion. Or hell, even Henderson’s.”

“Yeah? You still talk to Buckley? Wheeler? All those other little shitheads?” Eddie asked fondly.

Steve smiled, nodding. “Yeah, yeah. Henderson and Sinclair are finishing up at IU, actually.”

“I know,” Eddie replied with a grin. “I was their favorite, remember?”

Steve playfully nudged him with his shoulder. “Shut up, Munson. I was there first.”

Eddie chuckled, tying the full trash bag in front of him but leaving it in the bin. “Janitor will come and take the bags out tonight,” he explained. He walked over to the middle of the gym and started up at the ceiling, his hands on his hips. Steve followed his gaze to see green and orange paper streamers haphazardly adorning the rafters.

“Didn’t think that one through, huh?” Steve teased, as he walked up behind Eddie.

Eddie spun around, mimicking Steve’s question in a voice that sounded not at all like Steve’s.

“Eddie, we’re heading out. Good luck with the streamers — told you it was a bad idea to throw ‘em up there!” the woman who Eddie had been talking to earlier called out, following two other women outside the gymnasium door.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Eddie mumbled back, sending a lazy wave of acknowledgment in their direction. He looked back up at the ceiling and let out a sigh.

“You don’t have a ladder?” Steve asked.

Eddie shook his head. “Not one that tall.”

Steve nodded, rocking back and forth on his heels with his hands awkwardly stuck in his pockets. With Eddie looking up at the ceiling, Steve could see some tattoos poking up from underneath his shirt collar, and he couldn’t help but wonder what Munson would look like without it on.

“You okay, Stevie?” Eddie questioned, snapping Steve out of his fantasy before it could progress any further.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Fine.”

Eddie smirked, his brown eyes staring into Steve’s. Steve’s breath hitched as Eddie reached for him, and his eyes followed Eddie’s hand as it pulled a piece of green tinsel from his hair.

“You’ve had that in your hair for an hour,” Eddie explained.

Steve could feel a warmth creep up into his cheeks as he stared down at the hardwood floor. There was a moment of silence, and then, “What’s your secret, Harrington?”

“What do you mean?” Steve replied.

“You look even better than you did in high school.”

Steve chuckled nervously. “Uhm, dunno.” He shrugged, his hands still in his pockets. He looked up hesitantly before returning the compliment. “You, uh, look good too, Eds. Different, but the same.”

Eddie took a small step toward him, leaving minimal space between them. Steve gulped nervously. What was happening?

“You still react the same when I compliment you,” Eddie observed.

“I do?”

“Mhm.”

“Still not used to hearing them, I guess,” Steve replied. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. No, seriously, what was happening?

“That’s a shame,” Eddie said.

“Yeah,” Steve croaked.

Eddie took a step closer. There were maybe two inches between them now. Steve stared at the man in front of him, his heart in his throat.

“What about being kissed? Are you used to that, yet?”

Steve could have thrown up. Jesus fucking Christ, was this actually happening?

“Uhm — y-yeah. I mean, by women. Uhm, but n-not by —”

Eddie smiled sweetly and reached out to tuck a stray hair behind Steve’s ear.

“We don’t have to, Stevie. If you’re uncomfortable —”

“No! No, I — uhm — I want to,” Steve reassured him.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause it might screw you up forever, Harrington.”

Steve huffed a laugh through his nose. “ Now who’s the cocky — oh .”

Steve felt a lot of things the moment Eddie’s lips met his. Relief that it happened. Regret that it didn’t, all those years ago. He felt everything suddenly fall into place, like despite what he had been telling himself all these years, this was what he had needed all along. His hands came to cup Eddie’s face as he deepened the kiss, wanting more of him, wanting to be closer , even if they couldn’t be any closer if they tried. Not with clothes on, anyway. He felt Eddie’s hand in his hair, the bulge in his slacks, and okay — they should really stop now. But Steve didn’t want to. He wanted to stay like this forever; a bundle of limbs standing in his high school gymnasium with the crush he could never admit to himself. The knot in his stomach turned into fireworks, and yeah… he was screwed. Forever.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson

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heyitsyn · 4 years ago

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Manager!Seijoh Part 3

a/n: yall i love seijoh so much like theyre my favorite school and my favorite boys and i know their names by heart and im just so SOFT for them !!!!!

also: yall will find out what other fandom ill be writing for in the future in this one

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

combined two anon requests:

- Could we get the boys reacting to finding out the seijoh manager is quite popular to both genders?? Maybe they over hear a confession?

- Why do I feel like half of the team would be all pouty when word comes around that a guy confessed to manager, the others would probably be annoyed/irritated. Oikawa being all bratty cause no matter what he tried,she never showed ant interest when he flirts. But now this boy comes alone ... (but like you said manager is too focused in school and the team)

MY HEART WAS RIPPED OUT OF MY CHEST AND THROWN INTO A BLENDER WHEN I SAW THIS PART OR JUST WHEN SEIJOH LOST IN GENERAL BC MY BABIES WORKED SO HARD AAAAAAA

oof girl the world is ending

so basically,,,,,

the entire just magically knew about what happened earlier and yahaba’s theory of team telepathy really does work bc not even a minute after it happened, they all spammed you messages and next thing you knew, oikawa was naruto-ing down from the 3rd floor to your class in the first floor

tbh, they shouldve seen this coming yanno?

you were ridiculously pretty and you carried yourself w such elegance and grace that it just seemed to hypnotize everyone into stopping what they were doing and watched you in awe doing the most mundane things like walking or sitting

lmao couldnt be me

your confessions usually happened over letters bc either tol boys kunimi or kindaichi are usually around you at all times so theyre too scared to do anything

hence why your locker was always filled with envelopes yet no upfront public confessions

it ranged from upperclassmen and upperclasswomen who expressed their interest in you and wanted to date you and get to know you better

but tf you dont even know them and you werent about to date a whole stranger

this made the boys a little peeved because you were popular with both the boys and the gals so they were constantly on edge on who was talking to you

it was like having an oikawa 2.0 but not indulging them and pretending theyre not even there

like when you walk to class and sit down, they would flock over and offer you drinks and snacks but you either turned them down or just flat-out ignored them

maybe this was what fueled others on more

your reserved attitude and your refusals made it look like you were playing hard to get and it was almost like a game on who could win the heart of the princess of seijoh

this was proven really difficult because not only do they have your dismissals, you also had guard dogs at every corner and would bite their head off at the slight indication of an interaction

however,,,,

today,,,

this morning,,,,

at 7:53 AM,,,,

they saw you walking down the hallway with a purple-haired boy holding your bag and you giggling at what he was saying

um EXCUSE ME MAAM WHAT

EVERYONE HAS BEEN TRYING TO GAIN YOUR AFFECTIONS FOR MONTHS YET YOU ARE HERE INTERACTING WITH A MALE WHO NO ONE EVEN KNOWS

ESPECIALLY SINCE HE WAS A MALE WHO WAS STANDING RIGHT THERE RIGHT NEXT TO YOU AND HE WASNT A MEMBER OF THE TEAM

!!!!!

and ofc, the boys would immediately know even though theyre spread all over the school

it was kyoken who saw you as he was leaning against your locker and his eyes narrowed before he secretly took a picture and sent it to yahaba, asking if there was a new guy who entered the team while he was away

when he replied with a panicked, ‘NO WHO IS THAT’

kyoken was already advancing to you

yahaba-san immediately sent the picture to the team group chat, that excluded you rood, and oikawa wasted no time and even pushed some fangirls so he could go to you

‘-and she destroyed my sheets’

you laughed at the story and hitoshi stared at you with awe in his eyes

how can someone laugh so beautifully?

like a snort should be considered ugly and gross but it was like cute little squeaks from you and he thought you were like a fairy

‘oh god, i wasnt-’

you were cut off with a hand that held your arm

you came face to face with the glaring face of one of your boys and you immediately turned to him in concern, immediately grasping an arm with the other hand on his cheek to look for any cuts

he rarely comes to you on a normal basis so you thought something was wrong

‘whats wrong, kyo-san? did you get into a fight? do you need me to patch you up?’

he didnt care what you were saying, instead heatedly glaring at this new guy, and grunted a response to agreeing with you going to the nurse

just anywhere to get you away from this,,,, stranger

‘toshi i have to-’

then you were cut off again

‘YYYYY/NNNNNNN-CHHHHHAAAANNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

‘OI SHITTYKAWA!’

‘OIKAWA-SAN!’

‘OIKAWA!’

‘CAPTAIN!’

from behind you, 5 tol looming figures were running towards you and next thing you knew, you were in the arms of your captain

‘oikawa-san! what are you doing?!’

oikawa held you tightly against his chest and had his arms tightly around your form to prevent you from being taken away

most of the volleyball team were now circling you and pointedly glaring at the poor boy who was so confused that he wasnt bothered by the death glares

‘oh, its you’

kunimi grumbled

‘kunimi, whats happening?’

hitoshi questioned

you fought away from the hold of oikawa and pushed mattsukawa and hanamaki to stand in front of shinsou hitoshi

‘so sorry about this, toshi. i’ll help you with your room later and ill text you when practice is finished, okay?’

you sheepishly smiled and he nodded, his own smile reassuring you

‘yep. ill see you later then’

‘bye’

you softly said and he turned to walk away

but as soon as he was out of sight, you turned around with a grim looking expression and your hands on your hips, a hard look in your eyes

‘boys, what was that?’

you gritted out

‘y/n-chan! don’t you see?! he was going to take you away! he was an intrude-OW!’

he yelped when you reached up and grabbed his ear before grabbing the other closest who was iwaizumi

they both whined and complained about the ear and slapped your hand but you didnt let up

‘he is a friend, oikawa-san. you have no right on who i can be friends and who i can hang out with because i still have a life outside the team!’

you scolded and the others hung their heads low like puppies

‘sorry, y/n-chan’

oikawa mumbled and iwaizumi also mumbled his apology so you let go of them, dusting off your hands

‘and the rest of you, hold back your captain and dont intimidate him like that!’

‘sorry’

you sighed but ruffled their hair before turning to go to class

‘now, be good boys and dont bother others like this again’

‘yes’

they chorused and you nodded, satisfied

‘ill hold you to it!’

you shouted as you walked down the hallway

when you turned a corner, oikawa grabbed kunimi by the arms

‘you know him, dont you? who is he? what class? address? mother’s name? father’s name? age-’

‘oi stop it, shittykawa’

but despite that, iwaizumi looked at the younger, expecting answers as well

kunimi sighed

‘thats shinsou hitoshi from class 1-3. we have gym together’

and ‘we’ was kunimi and you since you were both in the same class so you constantly saw this shinsou boy?

nuh uh, dont think so, francisco

from the looks of it, you were still single and there was a pining from shinso’s part, maybe yours they dont know

and they were going to do everything in their power to keep you away from him

this was excused to them as protecting their manager from someone else and they werent going to let you be taken by someone else

during practice, they grilled you over your relationship with him

‘i honestly dont know why this is your business but if you must know, his adoptive father, aizawa-san, is my mother’s co-worker and i usually catsit for them. dont worry, we’re not dating. just friends, that’s all’

but they know it wasnt just a friendship type of situation

so when the 4 third years saw you being confessed to by this ‘friend’ outside, they almost toppled out the window as they tried to listen to what was being said

‘shittykawa get off my back!’

‘nuh uh! i want to see clearly!’

‘everyone needs to know that code red is happening!’

yall what

mattsun took a picture and sent it to the gc about their princess being confessed to

no one replied, possibly too upset or too busy sulking

kyoken actually had to be excused outside bc he was glaring at everyone and everything and the teacher and students were so scared that they had to take him out of class

they were even more peeved when you just walked in like nothing happened

you didnt mention the confession to anyone else the whole day and when you entered the gym, it was very tense

the coaches even looked confused

‘did you guys fight?’

you questioned but no one answered

kunimi and kindaichi were playing with a ball and glaring at it as it hit the floor

the 2nd years yes including kyobabie were pouting to the side

the 3rd years looked annoyed and pissed off

overall just not seijoh babie vibes

i am uncomfortable with the energy we have created in the gym today🧚✨

‘hey’

you gently said and walked to the captain to figure out what was going on

‘oikawa-san, what happened?’

‘are you dating him now, y/n?’

the seriousness in his voice shocked you and you took a step back in surprise

your expression made him think that you did accept the confession and he scoffed before walking away and doing a jump serve that sounded like a canon blasting

but you were actually confused and surprised that they even knew bc you were sure it was a secluded area where no one could see you

‘dating,,,? dating who?’

you asked to them and the 3rd years just knitted their eyebrows

‘dont play coy, y/n-chan’

oikawa hissed

‘no matter how many times i flirted or asked you on dates, you never said yes. never agreed or even showed a little bit of interest. on me!! your captain!!! but now!!! this little grape boy comes along and you suddenly start dating just because he has cats! what kinda bias is this?!’

he started ranting and whining and being a brat that you pinched his nose shut

‘oi, oikawa-san, are you jumping to conclusions again? first the hickey accident and now this?’

he made a whining noise for you to let go and rubbed his nose when you finally let go

you turned around to face the others and you sighed, massaging your temples

‘everyone, who spread this misunderstanding?’

no one pointed to anyone but their gazes settled on the thick eyebrow boy that you were sure wouldnt have ratted you out

a noise of surprise and betrayal escaped from you as mattsun quickly scrambled to get everyone to stop staring at him

‘MATTSUN-SAN! YOU-!’

you pointed at him and mattsun rushed forward to grab your hands before holding them close to his chest

‘y/n-chan, we just saw you when we were passing! it was makki who wanted to tell the others!’

the betrayal made iwa laugh but makki ran up to kick mattsun to the side

‘youre the one who committed the deed! i was merely suggesting it! it was iwaizumi who wanted to watch them first!’

‘IWA-SAN!’

you gasped at the normally chill third year and you didnt expect him to be the one who started it first

iwa panicked and held his hands out cautiously

‘y/n-chan, understand that i was just worried and i didnt want you to be outside by yourself after what happened, okay? i didnt know he was confessing to you’

you closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose tightly

‘again! whoever and whatever happens in my love life is my business! mine! and only mine! you cannot control it and get angry at ME because i do want a boyfriend and i do want to experience dating bc i want to know how it feels to be loved like that! so i wont let a bunch of children stop me from having that!’

the third years shared a look before they they gave up and nodded in defeat

but oikawa was the most offended

‘Y/N-CHAN! I ASK YOU ON DATES ALL THE TIME AND I ALWAYS OFFER TO GIVE YOU THAT LOVE SO WHY CAN’T IT BE ME?! WHAT DOES THAT GRAPE HUMANOID HAVE THAT I DONT?!’

he whined and stomped his foot after crossing his arms and a pout on his face

you shook your head, not even bothering to answer that, and went to the others

‘dont be mad and be upset, okay? i refused him bc i have no time for a relationship when im too busy looking after my own boys. i really dont want to add another’

kindaichi and yahaba’s face scrunched as they rushed forward to hug you

‘we thought you would leave us y/n-chan!’

‘stay as ours forever, okay?’

you were so relieved that they werent as aggressive as the oldests and gave each player their own favorite hugs

but you stopped in front of kyo, not really knowing how to hug him since youve never exactly showed any type of affection like that

so you were just awkwardly standing there with raised arms but he patted your head, you smiling and leaning more to his touch

‘hm, kyo-san, ya finally warming up to me?’

you teased but he scoffed, gently headbutting you with his forehead against yours

‘now, everyone! dont misunderstand and know that for as long as i will be a manager, i wont be in a relationship bc my time as a manager is too crucial since i would probably have to look after you so you dont get yourself to jail. a boyfriend is adding more boys in to that list and i dont want that. you will be my boys forever and i wont be taken from you so please trust on me and stop being so overprotective bc i wont give them the affection or wishes they want!’

oikawa teared up and was about to go trample you but he was held back

‘no! i want a hug! i want a family hug! cmon, iwa-chan!’

practice went by quickly but you demanded them to do 10 diving laps in punishment for all the misunderstandings theyve created

but they gladly did it bc it meant that you wont be taken from them and you would be theirs forever and their cute manager is going to pay attention to them and them only

i got serious yandere vibes from this but its so heartwarming that theyre so overprotective and lowkey you got yourself a harem

after practice, they all wanted to walk home with you but you told them that shinsou’s house was the other direction

‘y/n-chan! you said you wouldn’t-’

you rolled your eyes

‘oikawa-san, just because i refused that confession doesnt mean i will stop earning money. i still have to catsit for his family and earn my money!’

they only agreed when kyo said that he was walking that way too but they were still weary and jealous bc he got to spend more time with you than them

as you were both walking, you looked up at him

‘kyo-san, what type of hug do you like?’

‘hah?’

he looked down at you bc we short with wide eyes and flushed cheeks

you smiled and looked forward, skipping slightly

‘everyone in the team has their own special hugs. i want everyone to have one bc you all are individually special to me so-’

but he stopped walking and pulled arm before he lifted you up, making you squeak and wrap your legs around his waist

thank god you were wearing your tracksuit and not your skirt

‘k-kyo-san?’

bruh is it obv that kyoken is one of my favorite seijoh boys like bls love on him

he didnt want you to see his flustered expression bc he still has a reputation to uphold, yanno?

so he tucked it in your neck and you softly smiled before playing with the baby hairs at the base of his neck

‘you like this kind then, kyo-san? kinda aggressive but perfectly suits you, yanno?’

he just grunted and you laughed

he wasnt about to tell you that he liked holding you on his arms bc you were so tiny and so you that holding you like this makes him feel like he was protecting you and feel good about himself bc he gets to be the one who shields you from the world

yuhhhhh get it kyo

‘so yahaba-san told me that you got kicked out of class bc you scared the teacher and kids?’

you questioned and he left his spot on your neck and pulled his face back so you could clearly see his face

it was red and possibly flustered but you just snickered

he still held you by his strong arms so you were able to move your small hands to his face where he flinched at first but relaxed when you touched his cheeks

your fingers gently pulled the sides of his lips and you tilted your head to the side

‘you,,, look really handsome when you smile, kyo-san’

you whispered and he was so surprised that his tough mask fell and was replaced by wide eyes and his eyebrows rose up, the intimidating look disappearing from his eyes

‘i-i do?’

you bit your lip bc this was so different from the aggressive kyo you knew and you didnt expect this type of innocence that he just showed you

maybe he wasnt so innocent from the fights and arguments he has started or been in

but he was so innocent to soft touches and compliments bc he wasnt exposed to it, only used to the ones that were said due to the aura he exuded or his looks

‘yep, you do. so keep smiling for me, kay? dont have to be around the others or all the time, but i,,, want to see it sometimes’

he blinked at you but quickly went back to your neck to hide the big smile that was threatening to come out

you felt his lips move and you laughed

‘noooo! kyo-san!!! i want to see your smilee!!! dont hide it!!!’

but it was cut short when a familiar shout was heard from the other side of the street that was near the school

it seemed that oikawa was worried about you walking alone with kyoken so he followed you both with the other third years

‘kyoken-chan! y/n-chan!’

he shouted in betrayal

you were about to get away from kyo’s hold but he tightened his grip and leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead, still staring straight at the captain

‘mine’

again, do you know what happened next?

oikawa screamed

this was actually pretty funny to write bc wowza oikawa is so oikawa and hes just so oikawa-like, yanno? and im still simping over kyoken and shinsou is my ult fave in bnha and i really love him like ugghhhh :’)

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haikyuu-appreciation-club · 4 years ago

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Pancakes for Dinner

{Hey Pretty Lady}

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chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

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series masterlist

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It was difficult for Bokuto to focus on anything else that day, other than the anticipation bubbling up inside of him. He was dying to know who you were and what you were like, causing tomorrow morning feel like years away.

Akaashi got the tail end of Bokuto’s speculation, listening to him babble about their so called “mystery girl” as they walked home,

“Maybe she smells like flowers? Or maybe she-”

Akaashi promptly cut him off, knowing he’d ramble on forever if he didn’t stop his train of thought now,

“Bokuto-san, you’ll know all about her tomorrow morning. You just have to be patient.”

Bokuto let out a whine as he threw his head back in distaste,

“But Akaashi, you know I dont have that kind of patience!”

“I’m well aware of that, but just try your best. All you have to do is finish up your assignments for today and go to sleep. Then you’ll be able to meet her.”

As if a switch had been flipped, Bokuto turned to Akaashi with a determined look on his face and gave a few vigorous nods. A small smile tugged at akaashi lips as he shook his head at his friend’s antics.

The two parted ways not long after, bidding a due before they separated, allowing Bokuto to sprint to his front door while Akaashi continued his walk to the train station.

As the night dragged on, Bokuto fumbled through his school work. Blank answers were scattered all across his page as he tried to jump to the ones he actually understood and avoid the ones that made his stomach twist up in knots. At this rate Bokuto was not only interested in getting to know the type of person you were but also if you really had the ability to help him improve in his academics.

After some time, everything he had learned grew foggy in his mind once more, causing him to disregarded the leftover work in frustration.

As he flopped on his bed, pout dancing on his lips in dissatisfaction, an idea flooded his mind. Eagerly snatching his phone off his nightstand, his fingers worked quickly and eventually lead him to type your name into the search bar of instagram.

He found your account quite fast, a specific aspect picked it apart from the rest as he hovered his finger over the button. Unfortunately for him however, he discovered that you liked to keep your social life more private then others, not allowing just anyone to get a glimpse of your world. He groaned as he threw his phone across his bed, pouting at the fact that he wouldn’t get the opportunity to explore what you were like before the morning arrived.

After a night of failed attempts, Bokuto snugged into the covers, cuddling his pillow as his eyes grew heavier. He sent a quick goodnight text to the team group chat, as he did every night, before he allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

•·················•·················•

By the time morning rolled around, Bokuto wasted no time placing himself in front of the door to the principal’s office, practically jumping up and down from excitement alone. Most people would find his eagerness to be annoying and unnecessary, but he figured someone who was taking time out of their day to help him was someone worth being excited about.

His knuckles ricocheted off the door as his loud knocks filled the room on the opposing wall. After a few moments, the door flew open, giving a clear view of the tall man who had arranged this meeting,

“Ah, Mr. Bokuto. I’m glad you could join us. Please come in!”

As soon as Bokuto stepped into the dusty room, his focus was immediately drawn to you. You sat in an old battered chair, the same one he had sat in the day prior, as you flipped through a packet of some sort.

Once you heard the door closed, your eyes snapped towards the direction of the noise, meeting Bokuto’s in the process. A sweet smile spread across your face before you set the packet on the desk in front of you and stood up. Bokuto immediately bounced towards you and pulled you into a friendly hug, letting him introduce himself whilst you were still in his hold,

“Hey hey hey! I’m Bokuto! You must be y/n, i’ve heard a lot about you!”

You immediately went stiff, not expecting such an intimate greeting the first time you met the boy. The most you expected was a handshake or something of the sort, but you found yourself quickly warming up to the gesture nonetheless, eventually wrapping your arms around him as you returned his introduction,

“Hi Bokuto, It’s nice to meet you.”

Bokuto pulled away from the hug, a bright grin present on his face and he ruffled your hair a bit,

“Nice to meet you too!”

The principal watched this whole ordeal unfold from his desk. He was confused to say the least but neither of you seemed to mind the odd acknowledgment, so he didn’t pay it much mind.

Clearing his throat, the attention was brought back to him as he began to speak,

“i have explained the current situation to the both of you and now it’s up to you to come up with a plan that best suits the two of you. I have given y/n a packet of the topics you’ll be focusing on currently, so she’ll be able to walk you through anything you’re having difficulty with.” he looked back and forth from the two of you before letting out a soft sigh, “Basically, as long as Bokuto’s grades have improved by December, i don’t care what the two of you do.”

The two of you nodded in understanding, Bokuto doing so a little more violently but still in good spirits.

The principal smiled at the both of you, glad that he didn’t have to take up too much time out of his day spent on this situation, before letting the two of you off the hook.

•·················•·················•

Bokuto was practically dying of boredom by the time his last class of the day had ended. Everyday seemed to be on repeat lately and he was growing very tired of it.

As he turned to finally leave the confinement of the classroom, the sight of a figure caused him to jump. He was so engrossed in quickly packing his bag, eager to get to practice and spike to his heart’s content, that he failed to noticed the girl that took a seat on top of the desk next to his,

“Whoops, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Bokuto relaxed once he had noticed the scary figure was in fact you. He crossed his arms and shot a frown in your direction due to your accusation,

“You didn’t scare me! I never get scared y/n, ever! What are you doing here anyways?”

You let out a hum in consideration before nodding your head and bringing your book bag to sit on your lap,

“Right, never gets scared, noted.” you smiled before pulling out a piece of paper, “We have to set up a day to study so I was thinking we could get together this weekend. I came to give you my number so we can stay in touch.”

His features relaxed and were quickly replaced by a smile as he ripped the paper from your hands. He examined the piece of paper before returning his gaze to you once more,

“Oh, right! Thank you, y/n. I have to get to practice but I'll see you this weekend!”

You watched as his broad figure dashed out the door and towards the direction of the gym.

You let out a chuckle at his retreating form. Bokuto Kotaro was definitely different than anyone you'd ever met before, but was that really such a bad thing? Who knew?

A million other questions danced in your head since the meeting with the boy, but you knew only time could tell. You smiled at the thought before throwing your bag back over your shoulder.

There was one thing you already knew for sure;

These next few months would definitely be a roller coaster.

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taglist:

@goopy465 @al3x1ss @whosaskinguniverse @kenmas-grease @tsum-tsxmus @ray-ofmoonlight @simpparty @marvel-ing-at-it-all @ineedsomefoodpls @owlnymph @alittlebitofrain

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vodkaxtonic · 4 years ago

Text

Hot Chocolate •Steve Rogers x Reader•

Summary: Steve gets sick and Y/N takes care of him, which involves a lot of Steve’s whining, hot chocolate and cuddles.

Wordcount: 1,8k

!Not my gif!

It was a rare occasion that Steve got sick, but it happened. The super soldier serum made him almost perfect, however viruses certainly didn’t give one fuck about that. So, he still managed to catch a bad cold with a fever. But everyone that knew Steve knew that he was a thickheaded man who never took a break from anything, not matter how bad he was feeling.

“Y/N get your goddamn boyfriend before he collapses in the gym.” Tony groaned on the other side of the phone in annoyance as he watched Steve rip apart the punching bag, heavily panting. Y/N didn’t know what was going on since Steve had decided to stay at the compound for a week to make some mission plans with the rest of the team. However, Steve working out until he collapses? That was a thing that worried Y/N. “I’m on my way.” Y/N sighed, shaking her hand as she walked to outside, putting her phone away before getting into the car.

“Did anything happen?” Y/N asked as she walked up to Clint who was waiting for her patiently by the door. “Not to my knowledge.” He wasn’t lying. As much as he wanted to know why Steve was punching holes into multiple punching bags, he didn’t know. Y/N sighed deeply as she walked inside with Clint, soon the face of Tony peeking up behind a corner, accompanied by a relieved groan. “Thank god you’re here.” “What happened?” Y/N’s voice was layered with worry. Who wouldn’t worry when she got a call that her boyfriend was going berserk in the gym? “Well...” “Spit it out, Stark.” Y/N said, her voice demanding as she crossed her arms, looking at Tony who was smirking. “Steve got sick and has a fever, so we called him off this mission, he went on and threw a tantrum in the gym. These poor punching bags...” Y/N couldn’t help but bark a laugh. He got sick and that’s why he was mad? “This man will be the death of me.” Y/N chuckled, sighing before she made her way over to the gym.

And Tony wasn’t lying. The floor of the gym was covered in sand, against the window were 5 punching bags stacked which were either half full or completely empty. “Steve?” Y/N said as she entered the room, making Steve turn around. “Hey, what are you doing here?” Steve muttered. He was panting, more than usual when he had his, let’s call it, ‘workout’. His face seemed unusually flushed and his voice was croaky, not to forget the stuffy nose that made itself present every time he talked. “Tony called me.” Y/N muttered, walking her way over to her boyfriend. He looked pale, tired. However, he’d never admit that he was worn out from getting sick and letting the rest of his tantrum out on punching bags. “Tony told me you are sick. And that you terminated five of his expensive punching bags in rage.” Y/N explained, crossing her arms as she looked at her boyfriend, her look demanding. “Traitor.” He muttered, looking past Y/N at the door where Tony was standing, flipping him the finger. “It’s fine, Y/N. This will be over tomorrow, I’m just under the weather.“ Steve miserably tried to convince his girlfriend. “Steve, you are a super soldier, however, you’re still human. If you don’t cure this out right, you could be longer off the field than a week.” Y/N muttered, placing her hand onto his forearm. Steve groaned in annoyance as he ripped the bandages, he had wrapped around his knuckles, off. “I’m not particularly mad that I can’t go, I’m mad because people were counting on me to have their back and suddenly, I’m pulled off this mission two days prior to it.” He sighed, disappointed in himself as his light blue eyes met the ground, everything more interesting than his girlfriend right now. “So, you think you let them down?” She raised her eyebrows. Steve has always been a man that put everyone's favors and needs in front of his own. Which sometimes was a bless, but most of the time a curse, just like right now. “Steve, I think the others will manage one mission without you.” Y/N’s expression softened at her boyfriend who seemed more than disappointed in himself for getting sick, which wasn’t even his fault. “How about we go home? I’ll make you some chicken soup, I’ll make you hot chocolate and we can spend the next week together, just the two of us.” Y/N proposed with a smile, wrapping her arms around Steve’s waist, ignoring the strong smell of sweat that was coming off him. Steve sighed as he let his hands slither around her back before completely embracing her. “Admittedly, this doesn’t sound too bad.”

Soon they were in their car, and within minutes Steve was knocked out against the window, quiet snores escaping his mouth as his fingers were still intertwined with Y/N’S. And Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she took a quick glance at her boyfriend, his hair was messy as his head leaned against the cool glass, one of his legs propped on the seat and the other against the dashboard.

“Steve, you need to get up, I can’t carry you up the stairs.” Y/N sighed as she heard Steve whine. He was visibly shivering, making her frown. The serum made Steve basically a living heater, and she knew when he was shivering that it probably wasn’t that light after all. “I don’t wanna.” He muttered, halfway opening his eyes. “You have to or else you’ll freeze to death in this car.” She sighed, crouching down as she placed her hand onto his knee, looking at Steve who was still seated in the car.

After 10 minutes of convincing, Steve trotted up the stairs behind her, already panting again. A stuffed nose and stairs weren’t really the best of friends. Y/N unlocked the door of the apartment and the only thing Steve wanted to do was fall onto the couch, his muscles and bones aching. He honestly couldn’t remember when the last time was, he felt this bad. “Stop right there.” Once again Steve whined, his legs feeling like jelly as he turned back around to Y/N. “You take a shower and I’m preparing us a bath, what do you think?” Steve wanted to groan, instead he just sighed and nodded, making his way over to the bathroom.

The shower was quick, not only because standing was incredibly hard and exhausting for Steve right now, but also because his girlfriend was already seated in the bathtub and he didn’t want anything else than to spend some quality couple-bath-time together. Steve only now realized how much he had missed this as he slipped into the bathtub, his back leaning against her chest as he sighed deeply when he was embraced by the warmth of the water. Since HYDRA decided to pop up everywhere out of the sudden, they haven’t had time together. Either he was on mission or he was at the compound the whole day, just to come home to an empty bed because his girlfriend once again had to work the nightshift in the hospital. “I missed this.” Y/N sighed, almost as if she was reading his thoughts. “Me too. But it would be a lot better if I wasn’t sick.” He muttered, resting his head on her shoulder as she let her hands roam over his shoulders, starting to massage them, once again making him sigh. “Well, it’s a nice change for once, usually I’m the one you have to take care of.” She chuckled, pressing a light kiss onto the side of neck before leaning back again.

When both decided that the water was turning cold, they decided to finally leave the bath. “C’mere.” Y/N muttered softly, draping the bathrobe around Steve who lazily put his arms through the sleeves while Y/N tied it together. “What would I do without you?” Steve sighed, his hands finding their way to her waist as he looked at her with the most adoring look, even Y/N had to keep herself from aww-ing. “Probably fall into bed sweaty, cry because you’re too sick to make yourself food and call Bucky to come over to take care of you?” She grinned, teasing him. “Probably.” He chuckled. Y/N smiled as she got on her tippy toes, pressing a kiss onto Steve’s lips, making him also smile into the kiss.

“Are you hungry?” Steve shook his head before letting himself fall onto the bed, making it creak. “Do you want a hot chocolate?” The only thing signaling Y/N that Steve wasn’t instantly knocked out as soon as he hit the pillow was a nod, his face still buried in the pillow.

Luckily it didn’t take too long to make the hot chocolates, as Y/N walked over to the bedroom with two cups. “Steve, are you awake?” Y/N whispered softly as she put the cups onto the dresser beside their bed, sitting down. “You know I can’t sleep when you’re not around.” He muttered, and it was true. Ever since Y/N came into his life, she was his anchor, and when he was on mission or in the compound or she had to work late again, he didn’t seem to be able to sleep. Not until he felt her slither into his arms again, her body pressed against his so that there was no space in between them. Then he was finally able to get some proper rest. “I got you some hot chocolate.” She smiled as she saw his eyes open, before groaning deeply as he sat up. “Thank you.” He smiled as he pressed a kiss onto her cheek, taking the hot chocolate. He was obsessed with it, not only because his girlfriend made the best hot chocolate, but because it reminded him so much of his mother when he’d get sick. Often, they barely had money to survive the month, but his mother always made sure that he had his favorite chocolate to make hot chocolate in case he got sick again or Bucky came over.

When Steve finished his cup, he had to fight to keep his eyes open as he laid down further down, his girlfriend following suit as she laid down beside him. “I wanna cuddle.” He whined quietly, pouting as he placed his head on her breast, his leg draping over her legs, intertwining with hers. “Thank you.” Steve muttered tiredly, not being able to keep his eyes open any longer. “For what?” Y/N’s voice was quiet, soft, gentle as she let her fingers run through his semi-wet hair. “For taking care of me.” He muttered, lazily placing a kiss onto the exposed part between her breast caused by her bathrobe before placing his head down. And after a few minutes she could hear his breaths even out, signaling her that he had fallen asleep and with a small smile she closed her eyes, laying the duvet over them before pulling him closer, now slowly falling asleep too with the sound of the TV in the background.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x y/n #chris evans #marvel #avengers #the first avenger #tony stark #hawkeye #clint barton #iron man #fluff

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justjessame · 4 years ago

Text

Put Me In Coach 4

The rest of my senior year was pretty fucking pleasant. Negan and I spent as much time together as we could manage, he’d told his wife that he wanted freedom and moved into a nicer than I’d expected short term apartment. It was far enough from school and my house for visits to be easy. Or at least unnoticeable by anyone we didn’t want to notice.

Mom suspected I might have ‘a special guy’ in my life, but I nearly spit my water out during dinner when she made the assumption it was Joe. Fuck, I was choking.

“No,” I gasped, taking my napkin in hand to try to wipe my face and chest dry of the dribbles. I cleared my throat, drying to get my air and voice back. “Joe and I didn’t work out.” Under fucking statement of the decade. “There’s someone, but we’re in the early stages.” I had to force myself not to give a weird giggle that was threatening to erupt. Early stages? He’d left his wife. We fucked like bunnies every single chance we got. And right now? He was making noises about transferring to a school near the college I was heading off to.

“Do we get to meet this mystery boy?” My dad asked, suddenly more interested in me than in his slice of roast.

I nearly shivered at the absolute horror of Negan facing off against my suit and tie wearing father. Shit. “Like I said, Dad, it’s still early.” I took another sip of water, hoping I’d get to swallow it this time.

Dinner went on at a more normal tone after that. Dad went back to studying the meat, Mom went back to tsk-ing at the centerpiece, and I was left to focus on how I was going to tell them. How should I, their only child and pride of their lives, explain to them that I’ve fallen in love with a married man who happened to be my gym teacher? Fuck a duck sideways with a rusty pitchfork. Once I’d eaten my fill, I left the table and rushed upstairs. Shit, just fucking shit.

My phone dinged and I smiled through the terrifying reality of my future.

Coming over tonight, princess?

My grin grew as my fingers flashed across the keyboard.

Oh I better be cumming. Over and over. Tonight.

I hit send and tossed the phone down as I pulled open my closet doors. I heard the ding of his reply and then the phone rang. I pulled out a dress and tossed it on the bed. Picking up the phone, I was surprised to hear Eric’s voice instead of Negan’s.

“Don’t sound so fucking happy to hear my voice, you rancid whore.” I could hear his eyes roll from across the street. “I know you’re probably three steps away from riding Coach Negan into a really really hot fucking lather, but I NEED you.”

“Stop being so melodramatic, you fucking Queen.” I mocked. “What’s the issue?”

He was freaking out alright. He had a date, a really important date, to him anyway. And he was having a full on panic attack over his outfit. Honestly, this boy was worse than Mary. After promising, repeatedly, to come over as soon as I was ready for my own ‘date’, I hung up and checked the text that came in first.

Making dinner, pasta ok?

Fuck, I’d just eaten with the fucking parents. Shit. Maybe I could SQUEEZE a small serving in.

Sure.

I prayed that I could choke down more food. Negan was trying so fucking hard to go full on real relationship with me, that having him cook dinner was a huge deal. I just hadn’t had the fucking forethought to NOT eat. I pulled on the dress I’d chosen, slipped a pair of flats on my feet and brushed out my hair so the curls fell just right down my back. A tiny headband to keep my far too long fucking bangs out of my face, and I was ready to head out. Another ding sounded and I swore.

Bitch, the fuck you at?

Damn it, Eric. I typed in my assurances that I was on my fucking way NOW, and then a quick shout of parting to Mom and Dad and I was out the door. It took seconds to cross the street and walk into Eric’s house. Knocking was unnecessary with Eric’s family. Unlike my parents, his were shockingly progressive and open. I shouted out a greeting to his mom and looked up to see him glaring down at me from the top of the staircase. Jesus calm down.

“Get your fucking ass up here, you goddamn witch.” Damn it, son. I rushed up as his mom’s laughter followed me. She was as used to his weirdness as I was, more so I guess since she’d pooped him out.

Entering his room, I sucked in a breath. It looked like an Old Navy had exploded inside. I’d never seen so many clothes just EVERYWHERE. Fuck. “What the shit?” I looked around and finally my eyes landed on him standing near the completely empty closet.

“Help.” He squeaked. And I fought laughing.

A half an hour later, Eric was dressed, his hair was coiffed, and he looked hot. Well, hot for a totally flaming gay dude who was thirsty for dick. Hugging him and giving him a pep talk, I rushed back out the front door with another shouted parting to his mom and was in my car on the way to Negan’s.

My phone rang as I was pulling into his parking lot. “Hello?” I answered as I parked.

“Princess? Are you alright?” Shit, I hadn’t let him know about Eric.

I gave a quiet chuckle. “I’m here, Negan. Eric had an-” I rolled my eyes at the use of the word. “Emergency.”

“Is he OK?” The concern in my voice made me want to slap Eric shitless. I was out of the car and walking up the sidewalk as I shook my head.

“He’s fine,” I answered, smiling as I heard him exhale in relief. “Not that he has the perfect outfit.”

“WHAT?” I held back a laugh and his door opened in front of me. He was looking at me like I was insane as I tucked my phone in my bag. “An outfit is an emergency?” I came closer and wrapped my arms around his waist.

“Have you met Eric?” I felt him nod above me. “Yes, an outfit is an emergency.” I tilted my head back to look up at him as he pulled me inside and shut the door. “Kiss me.” It wasn’t really a demand, but more like an urgent request. He raised an eyebrow. “Please.” Smiling, he lowered his face to mine and gave me what I wanted.

I could smell the tomatoes he’d used in the sauce. I could smell the yeast of the bread he was heating. And yet, the ONLY thing I wanted to taste was him. Which is why I groaned when he pulled away. Fuck.

“Come on, sweetheart, dinner first, then-” he left it hanging. I bit my lip and let him link the fingers of our hand and pull me along to the kitchen. He’d set the table with a candle and dimmed the lights. Ugh, who knew that Coach Negan could be romantic? I mentally raised my hand. Me.

He held my chair and after I sat took his own. “How was your day?” I asked, as he dished his own serving out. Handing me the bowls, I took slightly more than I wanted or thought I could stomach shoveling in. I grabbed the smallest slice of warm bread I could, and waited for him to take his first bite.

“Not bad,” he answered, after he swallowed. He was watching me and glanced at my plate. “Not hungry?” Fuck.

“For food?” I countered, hoping that sounding as starving for him as I always seemed to be would do the trick.

He smirked and took another bite. “Eat, princess, you’re gonna need your strength.” Fuck, that twist in my stomach of want and lust came hard and fast.

I twirled my pasta around my fork and took a bite. Shit. I moaned at the flavor. Jesus God, who fucking would have guessed that he could fucking cook? I looked up at him and saw, even through the dim light and candle flame flickering, how dark his eyes looked. Damn. Swallowing carefully, I licked my lip and saw his eyes flick to the movement. “Something wrong?”

“Not sure I’ve ever heard that noise come out of your mouth, Amara.” How fucking low could his voice get? “Makes me want to find out what else makes you make that noise.” Shit, I had to squeeze my thighs together at that promise.

“You up for that challenge, Coach?” I asked, playing with my fork.

“You trying to dare me, princess?” He volleyed back.

And then dinner was forgotten, even if that fucking sauce alone made me want to rethink my position for a moment, but then my position was on top of the counter of the small bar and he was cradled between my knees and I forgot the fucking problem all together. He was inside of me and his mouth was latched onto my neck as I made some noises that no human being had possibly ever made in the history of humankind.

“Fuck, Amara,” he breathed into my skin and I growled at the feeling. “That’s right, sweetheart, clamp right the fuck down on me.” I arched forward into his body and he hissed and pulled away from my neck. His eyes on mine, he kept thrusting, watching my face as I bit my lip to keep from screaming. “Let go, princess, we’re all the fuck alone, remember?” And I did. I screamed his name. I begged, I pleaded. I demanded, I ordered. I wanted so fucking much and I got every damn thing I asked for.

Panting and leaning into me, I felt Negan chuckle. “When did you eat with your parents?” I grinned at him, fuck, he knew everything.

“About ten minutes before you told me you were making me dinner.” I answered, holding him to me with my knees tight. “I’m sorry.” I kissed his chin, then his cheek. “I’m sorry I was late.” A kiss to his forehead. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that I’d eaten.” I kissed his nose. “I’m sorry that I don’t have room for more of that fucking amazing sauce you made.” He chuckled again. “I’m sorry that you’re trying so fucking hard and I keep screwing up.” My lips brushed his.

“Amara,” he pulled back so he could look me fully in the face. “You’re not screwing up, honey.” He brushed his nose against mine. “This is new, so fucking new, for both of us. We get a learning curve.” His lips met mine again. “But,” he’d pulled back a bit again. “If you don’t fucking learn to call or text to tell me you’re gonna be fucking late? You won’t be able to sit for a goddamn week.” Shit.

It took a while. That learning curve he offered, for us to find our stride. Our new normal. I’d give him a heads up when I couldn’t bow out of dinner with Mom and Dad. He’d give me a heads up if he wanted to treat me to dinner, or a movie, which we did without blinking. We dated. Like normal people would. Well, if one of the normal people had a career that could be ruined if the relationship he was enjoying with the other normal person became public.

We found ways to do dates that didn’t threaten either of our futures. Or our combined future? Shit, I was usually so verbose. The point is, we found a retro drive thru in a nearby town that we took full advantage of, sometimes we even paid attention to the movie playing. We had dinner in small diners. We found ways to be a couple without having to face any negative parts that us being together could potentially cause. Mostly.

I had texted him to let him know that dinner with the parents was mandatory, for reasons unspecified by the parents. I didn’t let him know that I’d been given a dress code for the dinner. Or that my mom was shooting me weird looks. Why? Because I didn’t fucking understand the underlying current of the fucking requests.

Not until, about twenty minutes before this required to attend dinner was scheduled to start, the doorbell rang. “Amara, sweetie, could you answer the door?” My mom called from the kitchen.

Sure, fuck, why not? I thought, glancing in the entryway mirror at the dress my mom had practically picked out of my closet for me to wear. Actually, she did pick it out. Literally. Opening the door I bit back an actual curse. Joe Malberry and an older couple that must be his parents. What the literal hell?

“Good evening.” I offered, breeding taking over my warring brain. Joe was eyeing me head to toe and I was considering making my mom do more than tsk over the fucking centerpiece. I stood back and let the three of them in. They weren’t wearing coats, so I didn’t have to offer to collect them like a fucking coat check girl.

“Ah, hello,” my mom breathed as she glided into the entryway. “Welcome to our home.” She wasn’t looking at me, so I doubt she noticed my look of fucking irritation at this bullshit. “I’m so happy you accepted my invitation on such short notice.” What the fuck?

She was ushering them into the family room where I could hear my dad greeting them. I was glaring so hard at my mother’s back that she should have felt scorch marks. Damn her. I pulled my cell from a pocket in my dress and shot a text to Eric.

Mom invited JOE FUCKING MALBERRY and his FUCKING PARENTS for DINNER. I am going to fucking commit parricide.

I felt the vibration of his reply almost immediately as I slowly walked to the family room.

JESUS...Negan’s gonna fucking tan your ass so hard that it’ll be picked up on infrared scanners for miles.

Fuck. I rolled my eyes. Choices. Text Negan for the heads up, like a good girl and good partner? Or pretend that I wasn’t in the fucking Twilight Zone of all dinners? I tapped out the text.

I didn’t know. I FUCKING swear I didn’t know. But Mom invited Joe and his parents for dinner tonight. Fuck. I’d rather be with you. Or on the moon right now.

I heard and felt nothing come from my cell. Nothing. No vibrations. No ding. No ring. Nothing. But as we were sitting down in the dining room, the doorbell chimed. Fuck. I closed my eyes, and waited.

“Amara, darling,” I opened my eyes to see my mom asking with her eyes for me to answer the damn door. Thank god.

“Yes, of course.” I stood up and noticed that Joe hadn’t rushed to hold my chair. Unlike Negan, by the way. “Excuse me.”

I nearly ran to the door, hoping beyond hope that Eric had come to my rescue. But standing on the other side of the door wasn’t Eric. It wasn’t Mary. Instead, Negan was standing there looking like a fucking thundercloud. Shit.

“Amara,” he gritted through his teeth. I must have looked scared because he pulled me to him and held me to his chest. “You OK?” I nodded, and breathed in his scent.

“Yeah, just REALLY didn’t fucking expect to attend the dinner party from hell tonight.” I was murmuring into his chest. “Thank you for coming to check on me.”

“That’s not why I’m here, sweetheart.” What? Shit. “I’m here to meet your parents.” Damn it.

#coach negan x student #negan x ofc #The Walking Dead #Smut

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

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Catch Me if You Can (7/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/N: Oh my, oh my! Something big happened last chapter, didn’t it? Sorry for the delay in posting! I got on a prompt kick and didn’t want to overwhelm you guys with words! But don’t worry! I’ve officially written 19 chapters of this story😱 and still have some more to go! Shout out to @resident-of-storybrooke for beta-ing all these bad boys!

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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Tag list: @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @snowbellewells @karenfrommisthaven @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @emmas-storybook @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera@jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @galaxyzxstark @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer

-/-

One. Two.

It’s a repetitive motion that Emma can’t stop, her fist continuously hitting against the punching bag in front of her until she’s finished with her reps and every inch of her body feels like some kind of expired jell-o that’s at the bottom of her kitchen cabinets.

Why did she ever even buy jell-o? That is not something that she usually would have even bought unless she was randomly trying to attempt to make a recipe to take to dinner at David and Mary Margaret’s.

That must have been an odd day. What would she even have been making?

Emma drops the gloves she borrowed from the hotel into the basket, her hands slicked in sweat, and wipes her forehead down with the back of her forearm before bending down to pick up her phone and walk out of the gym. She can already feel that she overdid it today, that she’s barely going to be able to move tomorrow, but in the words of Elle Woods, happy people don’t kill their husbands.

Wait. What?

She definitely skipped forward on the lines there. She was most definitely leaning more toward exercise giving endorphins and making people happy or marginally less frustrated with the state of their lives. She’s on the second half of that spectrum, and she’s not afraid to admit it.

To herself at least. There is absolutely no way that she’s telling someone else what exactly it is that’s going on in her head. That’s probably unhealthy, but she’s not going to worry about that right now.

Ducking out of the gym, she immediately moves toward the back staircase of the hotel she’s staying in, avoiding the breakfast buffet area no matter how much she wants a bottle of water and something to eat. She bets they have waffles. But nope. No. She is not entertaining the idea, and she is not going there. The team is staying at this hotel (thanks David for nearly always booking them in the same place when that’s most definitely not necessary), and she is avoiding Killian Jones at all costs.

Because she kissed him.

(And he kissed her back.)

She fucking kissed Killian Jones, who is most definitely high on the list of people she should not be kissing, and yet she knows exactly how soft his lips are compared to the scruff on his chin. She knows that he makes this deep growl noise when she bites his lip, and she knows that he likes to focus on one lip at a time, specifically her upper one.

She knows that it feels damn good.

She knows a lot more than she should because she should never know how it feels to kiss him.

After he asked her out, after all of the fame and harassment and annoyances that came with that, she told herself that she would be pissed at him, that she would hate him and be annoyed and absolutely have nothing to do with him outside of a professional capacity.

That lasted for a solid two minutes once she saw him again.

It’s this…tether of sorts between them, and she doesn’t understand it. Their conversations are easy, even if they’re not always fluid, and she flirts with him. She knows that she does. She’d have to be blind and deaf and incompetent not to realize this, and she kind of hates herself for falling into the trap that so many others have fallen into. And it’s not that he has a full dating history, that he was once more known for who he was sleeping with than how his arm was working. That’s not it at all.

(Though she does have thoughts and questions and worries because she can spot a man running from something from a mile away, and that’s exactly what all of that had to have been. He was not sleeping around like that simply because he could.)

It’s her job.

She hates that she’s been flirting with him because of her job. She hates that she kissed him because of that.

Professionalism is important to her, and she’s hated how she’s rarely been taken seriously. A female working in sports, especially male-focused sports, is a rarity. Most women are shoved off to the side to only commentate on softball or women’s soccer (which is just soccer, by the way) or the WNBA. They’re not allowed to work with the men, the networks not promoting them, but Emma was promoted. She got the job even without much on-air experience, and even if it was partially because of David, she still did that for herself.

And she worked hard to make sure that she was taken seriously.

Then Killian Jones asked her out, and eighty percent of that effort went down the drain in one quick motion under the loud cheers of the stadium crowd and the rapid beating of her heart.

So, she can’t be kissing him in tunnels in the stadium or flirting with him over breakfast. She simply can��t. Because then there’s a picture of them somewhere, that picture makes its way to her bosses, and she’s having to sit in an HR meeting even though it’s not actually against the rules for her to date a player. But the rules don’t matter when it’s the rumors that will kill her.

Rumors make the world go round while also destroying lives all at once.

People will wonder if she’s been sleeping with Killian since before he asked her out. That’ll make them wonder if she slept her way to her job, which would validate the thoughts of so many people. If they date and break up, she’ll never be known for her job again. She’ll always be known as Jones’s ex, and no part of her is under the impression that she’ll be transferred to another team. She’ll be forced to interview him and record segments and commentate on his games.

All of her credibility will disappear, and she simply can’t do that.

Not when she’s been working so hard to build it up.

Neal was always making fun of her for her job, for her major, for her love of baseball, of tennis, of soccer, of anything. She put up it with it at first, being young and so stupidly in love that she thought he could walk on the moon without any help, but as the years dragged on, as she continued to work at ESPN while in college, it really started to take a toll on her that her boyfriend diminished her choices as if her career was a silly little hobby that meant nothing. She gets it. She’s not a doctor or a human right’s lawyer or a teacher. She’s not changing the world. But this is what she does, what she enjoys, and no one should ever be allowed to make her feel bad for that.

If you love someone, you don’t diminish their interests.

Neal made her feel like the shittiest person in the world every single time she put her job or school above him. Even if it was simply that she couldn’t go out to a bar with him because she needed to study, he made her feel like she was doing him some kind of disservice, like she owed him her time instead of giving it to herself.

The two of them had so many issues, some that she never got to resolve, but the biggest was that he consistently made her feel like she was nothing but a girl playing pretend in having a career and a family just like she’d been doing her entire life.

Asshole.

Walsh was the same way, but even he didn’t mess her up and make her question everything in the way that Neal did. If he did, she imagines her work experience would be even more different now, that having to see him occasionally would be more than a little annoyance.

Another reason dating someone she works with is a horrible idea.

Emma does all of this for herself because she loves it, but at the back of her mind, she can still hear his voice telling her that she’s not good enough and should leave all of this to the professionals. All she wants is for that voice to go away, for him to stop taking up space in her mind.

And that’s exactly why she can’t make out with Killian Jones again. It would be a horrific idea in every single way. Her body says yes, her mind says hell no.

Okay, it could be that her body says hell yes and her mind says a very quiet no, but that’s not at all what’s supposed to be happening. Signals are getting crossed somewhere.

Once she’s to her hotel room’s floor, she pushes open the stairwell door and checks to make sure there’s no one around like the paranoid person that she is, before jogging down the carpeted hallway to her room. Ruby isn’t with her for this trip, so she’s got the room to herself. It’s quiet, and while Emma can appreciate that, she kind of misses Ruby. They’re pretty much attached at the hip at all times, so the few times a year where Emma travels and Ruby doesn’t or vice versa are a little lonely. At least she doesn’t have to room with someone she doesn’t really know. That happened once, and that’s an experience Emma never wants to have again.

Her phone rings in her hand, and she nearly drops it from the shock, only pulling herself together enough to answer and place it on speaker so that she doesn’t have to hold it up to her sweaty ear.

“Mom is pissed at you,” David practically yells to her, something he does whenever he’s walking outside the office. Sure enough, she can hear the faint sounds of traffic and construction.

Ignoring the fact that he just called Ruth her mom, something he always seems to do, she sighs and flops down on the bed, not caring how sweaty she is. “Because I missed Easter? I told her that was happening ahead of time. I’m literally across the country, David.”

“She misses you.”

“I talk to her all of the time.”

“That’s not the same as going home, and you know it.”

Emma huffs, kicking her foot against the carpet. “I know that, but I don’t have several days off until a few weeks from now. I can go spend a month up there once the season is over.”

“That’s not entirely true. You still work for us full time, technically. Not the team.”

“I know that.”

“I’m just saying – ”

“David.”

“What?”

“Is she really pissed at me?”

“No,” he exhales, the background noise disappearing in the way that she knows that it does when he’s walked back into the office. “It was different having a holiday without you is all. Maybe I’ll invite her to come stay with us when you’re home for a bit. That way it’s the best of both worlds.”

“Okay, Hannah Montana.”

“We are both too old for that reference.”

“I’m only a year older than Miley Cyrus.”

“That makes me feel ancient.”

“Well, you are.” Emma twists her hands in the sheets on the bed, causing them to wrinkle before letting go. “I have to be at the stadium in two hours, but I promise I’ll call Ruth tomorrow before I get on the plane to go to San Francisco.”

“She’d like that. How are you? How’s California? I feel like we never get to talk when you’re on the road.”

“I freaking love California,” she sighs, putting her phone to the side so she can get out of these sweaty clothes and into a robe. “The weather is so nice this time of year, there’s a beach, the food is great. The traffic sucks, but the traffic sucks at home too. I don’t know. I feel like if I had to live somewhere else, it’d be out here.”

“I’m pretty sure Mom will be even more annoyed if you move across the country.”

“That’s what you got out of that?”

“Pretty much.”

Emma groans as she struggles to get her sports bra off, having to tug and pull until it snaps free and slaps against her skin. “I would never leave you guys. Or Ruby and Graham. I need someone to cook all of my meals for me. I’m too dependent on that.”

“Like the adult you are.”

“Exactly.” She finally gets her bra off, which feels like some kind of triumph, and tosses it onto the desk where all of her notes for today’s game. “David, I’ve got to get ready for today, but I’ll talk to you later, okay? Tell Marg and Leo that I’m invading the house on my off day when I get home.”

“They’ll both be at school that day.”

“After they get home. I’m obviously going to sleep throughout the entire morning.”

“Obviously. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

-/-

The Dodgers absolutely obliterate the Yankees that afternoon. 11-2.

Killian gets pulled in the bottom of the third.

Will Scarlet nearly gets thrown out for arguing with the umpire.

August Booth loses his footing and falls against third base in a move that has everyone saying he has a wooden leg for all of his flexibility.

It’s an all-around disaster of a game, a horrible way to close the series, and when she goes into the clubhouse to try to talk about it and break down what happened, the only man who will even acknowledge her is Eric Fisher. He barely gives her anything.

Not a great day at the office for anyone.

-/-

It’s two hours after the game is finished that she finally gets back to the hotel. There’s a sour feeling in her stomach over it all, frustration with the loss and with her coverage. The guys are usually pretty good at talking to her, coaches and managers included, but sometimes when there’s a loss like that, no one feels like acknowledging her presence. It’s fine. Honestly and truly it is. She wouldn’t want to talk to an annoying reporter after having her ass handed to her on a silver platter either, but that doesn’t make her feel any better about anything.

Maybe the sour feeling in her stomach has to do with the fact that she hasn’t eaten anything other than a granola bar all day. She knows not to do that, honestly and truly, but since she’s trying not to eat in front of a camera after the last few games that she’s worked, she didn’t get something to eat at work today. She definitely should have stolen some of the fruit from the craft services table inside of the press box when she went up there to get her microphone.

After flipping through the room service catalog and deciding that there is no way in hell she’s paying that much for a bowl of pasta, she orders a box of pizza to be delivered, and starts scrolling through the channels on her television trying to find a movie to watch. She needs to pack up for her early flight tomorrow, but since she’s already in her sweatpants and has taken her bra off, that seems like far too much effort. She’ll do it in the morning. Working under pressure has always kind of been her thing.

Finally, she decides on Titanic. It doesn’t matter how many times she’s seen it before. It’s a classic, and it’ll keep her entertained. Just as Rose and Jack are standing at the helm of the boat with their arms in the air, her hotel phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Miss Swan,” the voice says, “your pizza is here, but you have to come to the lobby to get it.”

She groans a little before speaking. “Okay, that’s fine. I’ll be right there.”

Emma rises from the bed and hastily puts on her sneakers, tucking the laces into the shoes instead of tying them, and walks out of her hotel room so that she can go down to the lobby to get her pizza. This better be good pizza, but it probably won’t even matter with how hungry she is.

She finds the guy easily, handing him his tip as he hands her the small box, and she thinks she’s made it home free until she turns around and practically runs into Ariel Fisher.

“Hi, Emma,” she smiles, as bright and friendly as she always is. Seriously. She’s always friendly and polished, and Emma is literally wearing sweatpants and a tank top with no bra. Her shoes aren’t even tied. “How are you?”

“I’m great,” she says, forcing a smile. “How are you? How’s Eric? He didn’t seem to be having too great of a day.”

Ariel shakes her head from side to side and rolls her eyes. “They’re all a bunch of oversized children. Seriously. They lose nearly as much as they win, but they never quite stop complaining.”

“I think that’s all men, if I’m honest.”

Ariel barks out a laugh, her red curls falling back behind her shoulders as her hand lands on her chest over her heart. “Absolutely true. Hey,” she starts, eyes glancing over Emma in a way that makes her stomach twist, “a few of us are sitting up on the roof right now. They have a bar and this charming little firepit. Why don’t you join us?”

“Uh,” she stutters, pulling her bottom lips between her teeth and trying to think of an excuse as to how to get out of this, “thank you, but I think I probably shouldn’t intrude. I was fully planning on kind of vegging out on my pizza.”

“You can do that up with us! It’s fine! If any of them try to take your food, swat them away. They’ve all eaten. Come on. It’ll be great.”

She has the word no on her tongue but never gets to say it as Ariel smiles at her again and grabs onto her elbow, pulling her along with her. Emma could easily say no again and walk away, but she finds herself following along in the elevators and listening to Ariel go on and on about how much she loves when they get to be in California for a week like this, even if they don’t get to stay in the same city the entire time. Emma can wholeheartedly agree with this, so she continues to make small talk as the floors tick off and the elevator door opens up to the rooftop.

The sun hasn’t quite set all the way, so there’s an orange tint to the darkness of the sky that reflects off the stringed lights that move across the roof. The noise level up here is already much louder than downstairs, and she can see the bar full of people as well as the large firepit with chairs surrounding it. Immediately, her eyes scan over the group, and she recognizes Eric, Will, Arthur, Robin, Phillip and Killian. Of course he’s there. Why would he not be? She also sees Arthur’s wife, Jennifer, and Belle French, Will’s girlfriend. It’s odd to know all of these people without really knowing them, and she feels like an intruder coming up here to sit with them.

At least everyone is dressed the way she is, and she doesn’t look like a total slob.

Okay, maybe she does.

Shit, she doesn’t have a bra on, it’s kind of chilly up here, and her tank top is far too thin. Idly, she wonders if she can make a break for it and run right now, but everyone has already seen her.

“I found a stray in the lobby,” Ariel sighs as she walks into the circle and sits in a chair next to her husband. “I pretty much dragged her to sit up here with us, and no one ask her for her pizza. That’s hers, and she’s not sharing.”

“That makes me sound great. Thanks,” she chuckles awkwardly as her eyes scan the circle for a place to sit, and because the world hates her, the only open chair is right next to Killian Jones.

Of-fucking-course.

He’s very pointedly not looking at her, which she both appreciates and hates, and maybe that’s what drives her to walk around the circle, the fire warming her a bit, and sit down into the lounge chair next to him, her pizza box sitting on the table in between them.

“Your attire is a little different there than usual, Swan,” Will points out, dangling his beer bottle in the air.

“So is yours. It’s probably a good thing they make you wear a uniform because your clothes don’t match at all.”

The conversation dies down around her, everyone stopping what they’re saying, and she can feel the blush rising to her cheeks until Belle starts giggling, her hand covering her mouth as her wine sloshes around in its glass in the other.

“She’s right, babe. Your outfit is awful.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“You have on a Hawaiian shirt, Scarlet,” Robin yells from his seat. “That isn’t even in style in Hawaii. All you need is a fanny pack.”

“I’ve heard those are coming back in style, actually,” Eric adds.

“Absolutely not,” Ariel laughs.

“Why do they call them fanny packs if they don’t go on your ass?” Emma questions in as she leans over and takes a slice of her pizza out of the box, figuring if she’s eating, she won’t have to talk as much.

“They’re supposed to be worn on your ass.” She twists her head to look at Killian at the same time that he looks at her, quickly glancing away and adjusting his faded Vanderbilt sweatshirt. “But people are assholes and steal shit, so everyone wears them on their stomach now.”

“Thank you, professor Jones,” Will mocks, doing a fake bow.

“I hate when you call me that.”

“It’s very fitting. You’re a know-it-all.”

“That is decidedly untrue.”

“I agree with Will,” Arthur adds in, and Emma can practically feel the tension between he and Killian simply by the tone of his voice. What the hell happened there? “You do act like you know everything.”

“I can guarantee that I don’t,” Killian grits out all the while she takes another bite of her pizza. She should have gotten popcorn instead because this is honestly like a show.

“It’s the way you talk,” Robin says kindly, and she subtly twists her head to the side to look at him. “You can’t help it. Your brain is always running through scenarios and coming up with questions and looking for more information. The way you look at stat sheets is insane. I think it all stems from your physics degree.”

“You have a physics degree?” she blurts out, and she can feel every head in the circle turn to look at her.

Outsider.

“No,” Killian says quietly, propping his jean covered legs up on the concrete rim of the fireplace. “I have most of one. I didn’t finish school before I got called up.”

“Huh, I didn’t know that.”

“There’s lots of things you don’t know about me, love.”

All of her intestines twist within her stomach, and she smiles at the intensity of his gaze before biting into her pizza crust. This is all a bit overwhelming yet fascinating, and this is probably the first time she’s ever spent time with all of these people outside of a baseball stadium. Well, except for Killian, but she’s decided that he doesn’t count.

“And most of them are not good,” Eric teases, only for Killian to hold up his middle finger at the man.

“Killian is fantastic,” Ariel gushes, betraying her husband. “Seriously. I love him, and you guys are all assholes to him sometimes.”

“Babe, I don’t think defending him like he’s in kindergarten is going to help his case. I don’t think he even has a case with Emma. Really, I’m surprised she’s even willing to be in a five-foot radius of him.”

“We can beat him up for you, if you want,” Will supplies.

“If you hit him in the face, though, he won’t be marketable anymore,” Belle laughs. Emma’s never really talked to her before, but she’s funny. That’s a good match for Will.

“I take offense to that,” Killian huffs, crossing his arms and letting his muscles flex under the material of his sweatshirt. “I am marketable for more than just my face.”

“Your ass is another one.”

“And technically your arm.”

“I’ve heard things about his thighs.”

“Oh, and his eyes.”

“That counts as part of his face.”

“You are all fucking assholes,” Killian laughs, his eyes crinkling as his head tilts back. “I spend all of my days with you people, being kind, helping with presents to buy for your wives and girlfriends, helping you win games, and all you do is give me shit in front of Emma when she already thinks that I’m the biggest ass in the world.”

“Not the biggest,” she corrects, the words flowing before she stops herself. Did she have wine or something today? Because she is not in her right mind. “I know at least a handful of people who I would put above you on that list. Will, for instance.”

A smile starts on the left side of Killian’s lips and stretches to the other, his white teeth on display as the now nearly completely fading sun sets a soft glow over his skin, making his tan deeper. She’s never going to deny that he’s attractive, that she’s attracted to him, but she has to deny the feeling of attraction that’s not physical. She’s kissed the lips making that smile, and her body tells her to do it again. But she can’t. Simply sitting up here with him is probably dangerous enough.

“You are much more fun outside of work, Emma Swan,” Will sighs, and it’s his voice that has her looking away from Killian and the way that his blue eyes were focused on her.

“I’m fun at work too, thank you very much. It’s just that with some of you guys, it’s like pulling teeth to get an interview. Eric was the only one who would even give me one today.”

“To be fair,” Robin sighs, “I wasn’t there.”

“No, no,” Eric laughs, kissing his wife’s head. “Don’t try to take this away from me. I got the gold star today. Maybe you’ll get it tomorrow.”

“Maybe I’ll also help us win tomorrow.”

From there it’s a roar of conversation, all of them debating back and forth about the game and what went wrong, what they should have done, what they will do next time. It’s a conversation she’s sure Al already had with them in the locker room after she left, but it’s still fascinating to see them have it in such a casual setting where they all have drinks in their hands or their phones out. She swears that August Booth hasn’t looked up from the notebook he’s writing in the entire time she’s been out here, and Arthur’s wife hasn’t said a single word, even to Arthur.

By the time that she’s been out there for an hour, goosebumps rising on her arms, she’s learned more about the personal lives of the players than she has in her three years of covering the team. Will is most definitely the one who jokes around the most, and Belle is always bringing him back to earth. Robin reminds her of David in the way that he plays the role of Dad despite being near the same age as most everyone out here. Eric and Ariel remind her of David and Mary Margaret too, except a little bit more fun, and it’s kind of this weird connection that she’s making between the people in her personal life and the people in her professional.

Robin, August, Phillip, Arthur, and Jennifer have all gone inside, each of them excusing themselves throughout the hour, and the roar of conversation has dulled to quiet ones between the six of them that remain.

She’s finished half of her pizza by this point, but since she’s starting to feel awkward again, she opens up the box and takes a slice out, biting into it only to see Killian take a picture of her eating with her phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” she mumbles, covering her mouth.

He smiles and takes another picture before putting his phone in his lap. “I didn’t see you eating on the jumbotron today, so I figured the tradition of people filming you needed to continue.”

“That’s really weird.”

“Never said I wasn’t.”

She finishes chewing and puts her half-eaten slice down on top of the box. “I have purposefully been avoiding eating while working since it’s obviously now a running joke.”

“That’s why I had to continue it.” He moves his eyebrows across his forehead, and a chill runs down her spine, causing her to rub her hands over her arm to combat some of the chill. “You cold, Swan?”

“I’m fine,” she lies.

“I can see the gooseflesh on your arms.”

“It’s fine.” She waves him away and adjusts her tank top, crossing her arms over her chest because she can see her nipples through the material. “Nothing the fire can’t fix.”

Suddenly Killian leans forward and grabs onto the nape of his sweatshirt, pulling it over his head. His shirt comes up with the movement, revealing muscles and hair on his stomach, and she glances down quickly before looking up to him holding his sweatshirt out to her, the chain he wears around his neck shining against his black shirt.

“Here,” he offers, a soft smile on his face.

“That’s not necessary.”

“Love, please. I know you can’t be warm. It’s fine. It’s just a sweatshirt, not a marriage proposal.”

She will do anything to have him not continue that kind of thought process, so she quickly takes the sweatshirt and pulls it over her head. It’s soft, obviously well loved, and probably about two sizes too big for her as the arms are a little long and the hemline would most likely land below her ass.

“Thank you,” she smiles, nodding her head. “I’ll give it back before I go to my room.”

“Of course you will. That’s my favorite sweatshirt. It’s not getting out of my sight.”

“Why do I feel like you would do murderous things if I don’t give this back?”

“Because I would.”

She laughs and curves her legs up underneath her thighs as the picks up her pizza again. She is eating nothing but vegetables tomorrow. “You want something to eat? It’s all I can offer in return for the sweatshirt.”

“Is it all just pepperoni and cheese?”

“Yep. It’s not like anything at home, but it’ll do.”

He nods his head and leans over to open the box, perusing the pieces before taking two and folding them together. “I think sometimes people try to add too much to their pizzas. Toppings are great, but sometimes simple is better. Classics are classics for a reason.”

“You’re one of those people who thinks everyone should read classic books, aren’t you?”

“They’re good.”

“Not all of them are.”

“You’re disturbed.”

“Maybe.”

“Thank you for the pizza,” he mumbles, taking a large bite as he adjusts in his seat, leaning in a little closer to Emma as they speak. “I’ll pay you back for it.”

“It was, like, ten bucks,” she promises, reaching her hand forward to touch his forearm to reassure him. “It’s fine.”

“It’s the gentlemanly thing to do to pay you back.”

“Oh, so now you’re a gentleman?”

He winks, and heat rises on her cheeks as her eyes glance from his lashes to his lips. “I’m always a gentleman.”

All of the sudden, his words sink in. He may simply be offering to pay for half of a pizza for her, but the implication of more is behind it. He’s asked her out on a date, they’ve shared a really good kiss, and she can’t do this no matter how much she wants to.

Oh wow. She wants to.

But she can’t.

Her career is too important to her, and she absolutely cannot ruin that, not now. Dating Killian, even considering it, is a horrible idea for approximately seventeen different reasons. He wouldn’t just break her heart if it didn’t work out, he’d break her career too.

It’s all too much, and even if they’re simply having a conversation right now, she can read between the lines.

Rising from her chair with a rapidly beating heart, she finally notices that all of the people around them have disappeared, only people she doesn’t know filling the seats.

“Swan?”

“Emma?”

“Yeah?” she gasps, twisting her head back to look at Killian.

He smiles, and guilt settles into her stomach. “What are you doing?”

“I, um,” she mumbles, already taking a step away, “just remembered that my flight is super early tomorrow, and I haven’t packed. So I’ve got to go. Enjoy the pizza. I’ll see you in San Francisco.”

She’s running. She knows that she is. There’s no denying it, and she doesn’t even care until she’s in the elevator and the mirrored doors are closing in front of her to show that she’s still wearing his sweatshirt, the scent of Killian Jones overwhelming her.

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #Captain Swan

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

Text

Complex Love, Ch 1 (kamasia) - Crazy4Kameron

A/N: This is the very first thing that I have ever written and I just have to say a huge thank you to Mac and Alex, because without them this wouldn't have been possible. They patiently answered all of my questions and bounced ideas around with me, all while encouraging me. So THANK YOU a million times over!! I have never finished anything in my life, so I am very proud of this work and can't wait to see where it may go. Thanks hy-jinkx and imalwaysaslutfordrag for beta-ing this. Love both so much

St.Charles Recreation and Cultural Complex was built and sponsored by the Mathews and Daly Architecture Company. It was a huge blessing to not only the town but the community as well, providing tons of new jobs and a place for the kids of St. Charles to stay out of trouble. This thing had everything, including an indoor water park, ice rink, and state of the art gym, plus lots of office space to hold classes and meetings. There was even a kitchen for cooking classes.

Working at the reception desk at St.Charles Cultural and Recreation Complex was not exactly a dream job, but moving out for college with her roommate Monet who also happened to work at the complex and needing to help out financially at home meant that she needed the money. Asia’s real dream was to run her own costume design company, making outfits for theatres, dance groups, figure skaters. She was always designing new outfits for her little sisters’ dolls or fixing holes and tears in shirts and pants to make them last just a little while longer. Turning old scraps of cloth into something new and watching the way her sisters’ faces would light up when they saw the new dress-up costume Asia had made for them always seemed to make the time and effort worth it.

It was finally the end of the day, and Asia was looking forward to going home to make dinner, put on some music and study. It’s not that this job was hard by any means, but the days seemed to drag on and she could think of at least 20 things that she would much rather be doing. If she didn’t need the money to pay her rent, she never would have taken the job in the first place.

Asia was just packing up and thinking about what she was going to make to eat when she heard someone tapping their nails on the desk. As she looked up she saw a tiny, perfectly put together girl. She looked more like a doll than a human, with her porcelain painted skin, long eyelashes and plump lips. Her platinum blonde curls lay perfectly down her back. Asia recognized her instantly, it was hard not to know exactly who this beauty was, she was impossible to miss. Blair St.Clair had gone to high school with Asia. The girl was a few years younger than her, but Asia recognized the stereotypical southern belle from the years of hearing tales about the pretty new girl from her fellow classmates. Everyone had been infatuated with Blair since her family moved to town in her ninth grade year. Asia didn’t blame them.

"Hey, Blair. Sorry, I didn’t see you there, sis." Asia said as she finished packing her bag.

“No big thing girl, I’m just waiting for someone. I love your hair, did you do something new?”

Asia reached up to play with loose waves that frame her face, “Thanks, but it’s the same as the last time I saw you. So, if you don’t mind me asking, who are you waiting for, cause I’ve never seen you here before. So he must be really special.” wiggling her eyebrows and giving Blair a playful wink.

“Oh no, it’s nothing like that! I’m just waiting for…” but before Blair could finish, the most beautiful girl that Asia had ever seen came walking around the corner. There was just something about the way her red ponytail swung from side to side in perfect time with her hips. Her muscular creamy arms were covered in tattoos, but Asia’s eyes immediately fell on a very large tattoo covering the girl’s ample chest As she got closer, Asia realized that she also had a tattoo on her neck too. It was hard for Asia not to stare.

Asia knew she must look like a pervert or something, the way she was ogling this fiery goddess from head to toe. Checking out the way her tights hugged every inch of her perfectly sculpted legs and hips, her shirt was just tight enough you could tell she had a toned stomach and cut low enough to get a perfect view of her full breasts. Something inside Asia just didn’t care, it was like her brain had short-circuited, and she no longer knew how to act human anymore. She prayed that the tattooed beauty wouldn't come over to the desk because there was no way that she was going to be able to speak anytime soon. How long has she worked at the center and why have I never seen her before? I would definitely remember seeing someone as radiantly beautiful as her. Just please, don’t come over here, please, please… Oh, fuck is she coming this way…?

It was just her luck, she was walking directly towards her. Asia knew she needed to reboot her brain into remembering words, she was an intelligent woman and words had never been something she was at a loss for, until now. Why was this redheaded goddess affecting her like this?

---

As Kameron walked out of the changing rooms, with her freshly washed hair in a ponytail and her bag on her shoulder, she was mentally trying to remember if she had everything that she needed when she noticed her sister talking to the girl at the reception desk. She had flawlessly smooth chocolate skin that made Kameron want to touch it, and the way her wavy brown hair framed her face was sinful. Kameron noticed the girl was staring at her and wondered if she had a stain on her clothes or if her shirt was showing too much cleavage and began to get a little self-conscious.

There is no way that she is checking me out. A girl like that would never go for a gym rat like me. Definitely not checking me out. Kameron was pulled from her thoughts when she reached the desk were Blair was waiting.

---

“Hello, Earth to Asia...are you okay?” Blair was waving her hand in front of Asia’s face.

Asia knew someone was talking to her but she was too lost in her thoughts to hear what they were saying fully only catching the end of the question. “What. Yeah. Sorry. I’m fine."

“You sure because you spaced out pretty hard there for a second?”

Asia looked over at the red-headed goddess again. “Positive,” she flashed her a bright smile.

“Okaaaay well…. I was saying I'd like to introduce you to my sister Kameron. Kameron, Asia, Asia, Kameron. Kameron is a trainer at the gym.”

"Hi, nice to meet you," was all that Asia was able to manage to get out as a smile she couldn't hold back crossed her lips.

“Hey,” was all Kameron could say as a shy smile crossed her lips and a blush began to heat up her cheeks. That perfect white smile was too much for her to handle.

There was an awkward silence as the two girls just stared at each other, Blair looking between them wondering if either was going to say anything else. Blair finally broke the silence. "Well we should get going, Kameron, we don't want to be late for dinner. You know how your mom hates it when we're late."

"What. Oh yeah, she does hate when we're late for dinner. " Kameron finally broke eye contact and looked down at the countertop, both of her hands held the shoulder strap of her duffle bag just so she had something to do with all the nervous energy she was feeling. "I'll wait out by the car for you." With a shy smile and a wave, Kameron made her way to the door before anyone else could say anything.

"Okay!" Shouted Blair.

Asia couldn’t help but take a quick look at Kameron’s perfect plump ass as her hips swung tantalizingly from side to side as she walked away, or at least she thought she had only taken a quick look.

“So, you enjoying the view? Blair chuckled.

Busted. Don’t let her know you were looking.

“I didn’t even know you had a sister till right now. Did she go to school with us?” Asia asked, tilting her head to the side and giving Blair a questioning look with a fading smile on her face. She knew she was avoiding answering the question, but she had to redirect the focus. She couldn’t let Blair know that she was indeed checking out Kameron, even if she had made it obvious.

“Technically she’s my step-sister, our parents married the summer before we moved here. And no, she was homeschooled… She’s around the same age as you.” Blair said as a sly smile began to form on her lips. ”But seriously though I really have to get going. It was so good seeing you again though. I hope you have a good night.” She said, grabbing her purse off the counter.

“Yeah, it was good seeing you again too. Have a good night, Blair.”

As Blair reached the doors she stopped and turned back towards the desk, “Hey Asia, just be careful with her. She might look tough, but she’s really shy and soft-spoken.”

“Wait what! I wasn’t even-” but Asia quickly realized that she was talking to herself, as the door closed behind Blair.

---

When Asia finally made it home and took her shoes off by the front door, she was not only met with the sound of loud music coming from the kitchen but also the unmistakable smell of burning; which could only mean one thing. That her roommate must be trying to cook, again. Making her way to the kitchen, Asia found Monet, waving a dish towel in front of the stove, as smoke was pouring out.

“What in Jesus’ name are you doing?” Asia asked as loudly as she could standing in the doorway, not only so she could be heard over the music, but out of fear that her roommate might actually burn the apartment down this time.

Monet turned around suddenly realizing that Asia was home and turned the music off so that they wouldn’t have to yell to hear each other. “OH! Welcome home honey, how was your day? Good, good. Bitch I was trying to make dinner “

“No, what it looks like you’re trying to do is burn our apartment down, and give me a nervous breakdown in the process.” Asia grabbed another dish towel to help clear the smoke.” You know full well you can’t cook, so why did you even try?”

“I thought I would be a good roommate and do something nice for you for once.”

“If you really wanted to be a good roommate you could have just cleaned up the apartment, instead of making a bigger mess for me to clean. I have enough things to take care of when I come home from work, cleaning up after your raggedy-ass, shouldn’t have to be one of them.”

Monet’s phone suddenly dinged on the counter, abruptly putting an end to their bickering. After a minute Monet put her phone back down with a smile on her face and continued to clean up the kitchen, with Asia’s help.

“Speaking of work, how was work? Anything interesting happen today?” Monet asked wiggling her eyebrows.

Asia’s thoughts instantly returned to Kameron. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what Blair had said. What did she mean don’t hurt her? Asia had only just met this girl and had no idea if she would ever see her again. But she knew if she told her friend about the beauty that she would never hear the end of it. “Nope, same old boring shit like every other day. Why are you asking?”

"No reason just looks like you had a hard day, so you go relax, I’ll clean up this mess and order food, I’ll let you know when it gets here." Monet was being suspiciously civil for some reason, but Asia couldn't quite put her finger on why.

After dinner, the girls decided to go watch TV. Asia had been thinking about Kameron all night. She couldn’t help but hope that she would see her again soon. She was actually somewhat excited to go to work now. Hopefully, the next time she saw her she would get to talk to her a little longer, maybe get to know her.

"So you still never told me how your day was?" Monet asked nonchalantly well flipping through the channels trying to find something to watch. “Normally you tell me about your day as soon as you walk in the door. You sure nothing happened at work today?”

“ I would have told you about my day if you hadn't been trying to burn our apartment down when I got home. I’m pretty sure I already told you though, my day was boring and long as usual,” Asia said trying to avoid the subject altogether.

“You just seem kinda out of today is all, you were really quiet at dinner. You sure you didn’t meet anyone exciting or interesting today?”

“I met new people every day, that’s kinda my job, Monet”

“Yes, but I’m more interested in whether or not you met a certain redhead.” Monet with a wicked grin spread across her lips.

Asia let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, “Oh Lord, who told you!”

“Brianna, you know Cracks can’t keep a secret”, Monet could see Asia’s eyebrows raise with an unimpressed look on her face, “ who heard it from Vixen, who may have heard it from Blair after she left the complex tonight.”

“Seriously, y'all some grown-ass adults, why you still need to gossip like you’re in high school.”

“Look it’s just been so long since you’ve even been interested in anyone, we’ve all been worried about you. All you ever seem to do is go to school, work on your outfits, study and go to work. I’m happy that you’re living your dreams and all but you still need to take some time for yourself every once in a while. You know go out and relax, meet people, have a social life outside of me, maybe get a little action If you know what I mean.” Monet winked at Asia with a sly smile.

“I really don’t want to talk about this anymore, plus who I may or may not like is none of you or your chatty little friends business.” Asia let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose she took a breath to focus herself before she continued. “ But yes I do like Kameron. She’s beautiful, and I would like to get to know her better.” Asia pointed her finger at Monet to silence her as she continued, “But I DO NOT need any help from you or any of your friends. I don’t want you to interject in any way. I will do this in my own time and at whatever pace feels comfortable to me. And that’s even if Kameron likes me too.”

Holding her hands up in mock defence, giggling “ Okay fine, have it your way. I and my friends won’t get involved.”

“Thank you. Now if we’re finished, I need to go try and study before bed, so good night.”

---

Asia had been sitting on her bed, staring blankly at her open sketchbook for the past 20 minutes, nothing but thoughts of the nights' previous encounter with a certain redhead running through her mind. No one had ever affected her like this before. Why was this woman who hadn’t even said more than 2 words to her taking over her mind? Asia didn’t know but she knows that she needed to find out what it was about her that was doing this to her. She really hoped that she would get to see that gorgeous redhead again soon because she didn’t know how much more of this she could take.

#rpdr fanfiction #kameron michaels #asia o'hara #asia x kameron #lesbian au #fluff #shy kam #useless lesbians #complex love #crazy4kameron

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sadrien · 7 years ago

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a truth so loud

ao3

my remix for week 4 of @thinkoutsidethelovesquare!!!! it's been a super awesome month, so thank you to everyone who participated! i was actually so excited to do this and i had so much fun~

i remixed and i'm ready to be found by @adrisin!! definitely make sure you check out the original fic! thank you to @megatraven for beta-ing <3

enjoy!

Adrien tries to plaster a smile on his face as he shuts the car door— trying not to slam it no matter how frustrated he is, because all it will get him is a lecture about behavior and attitude after school, and if there’s anything he’s not in the mood for, it’s that.

He waves at Nathalie with his plaster smile, feeling no more disappointed than usual when she doesn’t wave back, and spins on his heel to face the school. Anxiety weighs down on him like an anchor, one that holds him back for a moment even after the first bell has rang.

He skids into the classroom, seconds after the bell has stopped ringing.

Ms. Bustier raises an eyebrow at him before marking him down as late.

Adrien winces as he takes his seat. When Nathalie sees the tardy on his attendance report, she’ll have words.

He hates when Nathalie has words.

Adrien tries his best to focus on the lesson, but he can't. His father’s voice is echoing in his head, over and over and over again.

“She used to be your best friend!”

He grips his pencil tighter.

If he could’ve kept his childhood best friend, he would’ve. But both him and Chloé have changed over the years. Homeschooling just meant that he hadn’t seen how much she had changed until now. And now— Now he has to make some choices about the people he hangs out with. And he is not thrilled by that.

“Her father is very powerful—”

Adrien squeezes his eyes shut.

“You okay, man?” Nino asks softly, putting a hand on Adrien’s back.

Adrien nods and opens his eyes, staring down the whiteboard. He writes down what Ms. Bustier has written — though none of the actual words are really processing — and focuses on just getting through the day.

Just one day.

Nino watches silently as Adrien hauls his bag on and leaves the classroom without a word. Adrien turns away from the school’s entrance and gym. He must be headed to the library.

Nino chews on the end of his pen. Something is wrong and he doesn’t like it. After a moment he sighs and twists around, knocking on the desk to break up Marinette and Alya’s conversation.

Marinette leans away from Alya, blushing a little. “What’s up?”

“Have you noticed something…off about Adrien today?” Nino asks, trying his best to sound casual and totally not at all concerned.

Alya and Marinette exchange a look.

“Something was definitely wrong,” Alya says, pursing her lips. “But he hasn’t said anything to me.”

Marinette shakes her head. “Sorry, Nino,” she apologizes. She pats his hand. “You could try asking him?”

Nino looks toward the door. “I don’t know. I don’t think he really wants to talk about it…”

“What?” Alix asks, hopping on top of Nino’s desk and criss-crossing her legs. “Are we talking about the clouds blocking out the sun?”

Marinette rolls her eyes.

Nino adjusts his hat. “You know what’s wrong with Adrien?”

“Duh.” She blows a bubble with her gum.

“I’ll pop that,” Alya says flatly. “Come on, girl! Details!”

Alix leans back on her hands and pops the bubble herself. “I don’t know how none of you have heard. His dad is being a jerkass. Told him that he wasn’t spending enough time with drama queen over there,” she juts a thumb over toward Chloé's desk, “and that he’d get cut off from public school unless he either talks to her more or has a good reason not too.” Alix raises her eyebrows, says, “Juicy stuff,” and blows another bubble.

“What kind of bullshit ultimatum is that?!” Alya protests, crossing her arms. She turns to Marinette. “Have I told you today that I hate Gabriel Agreste, because I hate Gabriel Agreste.”

Marinette shakes her head. “Exactly the kind of ultimatum you’d expect from someone like Monsieur Agreste,” she points out.

Alya deflates a little. “Yeah,” she murmurs.

Nino taps his pen against the desk a few times before he shoves it in his bag. “I have to go,” he mumbles, yanking his bag onto a shoulder.

“Give him love from us!” Alya shouts as Nino hurries out the door.

Adrien rubs his temples as he stares at his history textbook. He’s found a quiet spot in the library, he’s listening to calming music, he’s been careful about his breathing. Why does he still feel like the world is closing above him?

The Marquis de Lafayette is doing something in history, and Adrien can’t seem to read enough of his book to find out what it is.

“Adrikins!” he hears someone whisper shriek from across the library.

Adrien holds back a groan and forces himself to smile and pull out an earbud. Just one. Classical music still plays in the other ear, sixty beats per minute, calming. Relaxing. Soothing. It’s fine. “Chloé! Hi!” He tries not to wince. Has he always sounded that fake?

“So,” she drawls, leaning on the table. “Adri, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me to Restaurant Lasserre tonight for dinner!” Her voice is high and bright— her camera voice. Her public voice. Her performing voice.

Because that’s all this ever is.

A performance.

He can think of all the times that it was something more, but right now, they’re both nothing more than two names, two names with large numbers attached to them. He can see it in how her mouth smiles more than her eyes do, how her body language is exaggerated to the extreme.

Adrien swallows thickly. “I…”

Chloé bats her eyelashes. He might be seeing things. She seems more desperate than usual.

He sweeps his eyes around the library. He needs time. He needs more time. He needs to decide what to do and say before—

Adrien makes eye contact with Nino, who’s peering out at them from behind a bookcase. Nino’s eyes widen in surprise.

This might work.

He very well might ruin his friendship with Nino forever and expose his feelings along the way, but fuck it, he needs a way out of this conversation and he needs it now.

“I wish I could, Chlo, but I have— I have a date,” he stutters.

Nino’s jaw drops.

Adrien grabs Nino’s hand and yanks him around the corner to stand next to him. “A date! With Nino! Yeah!”

Nino is perfect. Ridiculously cute, way too nice, his best friend— there’s the problem of his dad but he’ll figure that out later, and besides, Nino is really, really cute.

He leans over and kisses Nino on the cheek. He can feel the heat of Nino’s blush under his lips and knows Nino is resisting the urge to pull his hat down over his eyes.

Chloé forces a laugh, sort of high and hysterical. “What?!” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, what?”

Yup, Adrien hadn’t been planning to come out this way either, but hey, plans change.

“You can't date him,” Chloé starts.

“Why not?” Adrien asks, crossing his arms.

“He’s—” She gestures wildly to Nino. Nino pulls a face.

Adrien huffs and tries to hold himself together. “What is he?”

“First of all, a guy—”

“So?”

Chloé blinks a few times. “So…you’ve…” She puts her hands on her hips. “You like girls!”

“Bisexuality exists,” Nino supplies helpfully.

Chloé shoots him a dangerous glare and Adrien knows it’s time to step away from the situation. Of course Chloé knows bisexuality is a thing. If anything, she’s probably just annoyed that Adrien never mentioned it whenever they talked about stuff like this.

He'd never found the words or courage.

“Sorry Chloé, but I’m going out with Nino tonight,” Adrien apologizes, lifting their joined hands.

“Where?” she asks sharply.

“The Restaurant Lasserre,” he says trying not to wince. Yikes.

She narrows her eyes at him. “You better actually be going. I will be there. You need a backup plan.” She glares daggers at Nino.

“Wow, fuck you,” Nion mutters under his breath.

“Bye, Chloé.” Adrien hopes he looks confident and cool because he honestly feels like he’s going to throw up.

She scoffs and turns on her heel, storming out of the library.

He’s going to have to talk to her later and that thought is almost worse than everything else that just happened. He should have enough money to buy more time, but it doesn’t work like that and now everything is—

Oh no.

Adrien turns to Nino with wide eyes, knowing his expression is probably one of pure panic and anxiety. “Oh god, I’m so sorry for dragging you into this.”

Nino blinks quickly a few times. “Uh… I mean, it’s fine, dude. I’d do anything for you.” He pauses for a second, eyes wide. “Sorry for making you go out with me,” he adds quickly.

Adrien tilts his head. “Making me? Didn’t I ask you out? Sort of? In a weird—” He shakes his head and cuts himself off. “I mean if you’re fine with doing this because you don’t have to if you don’t want to, I can go tell Chloé the truth right now if you—”

“Dude,” Nino puts a hand on his shoulder, “it’s fine. I’m always up to going out to dinner with my best friend.”

Right. Best friend. They’re still just friends, no matter what bullshit Adrien’s mouth says when his brain to mouth filter vanishes.

“And I’m okay with keeping up the act as long as you need,” Nino continues. “I don’t mind.”

“You’re sure?” Adrien asks.

“Anything for you,” Nino repeats. “I have to get to work now, but I’ll text you about tonight later, cool?”

Adrien nods. “Yeah, thank you so much.”

Nino gives him a little salute as he leaves the library.

Adrien sinks into his chair and buries his face in his hands. He is so fucked.

Nino gets halfway to work on pure adrenaline. Then he stops in the middle of the sidewalk and says, “Oh shit,” really loudly.

Someone with a little kid gives him a dirty look.

He grimaces and starts walking again, pulling his phone out of his pocket and selecting Alya’s number. They don’t call often — texting is so much easier for both of them, plus, emojis — but he doesn’t actually think he can handle typing out words right now.

Alya picks up mid-ring. “Hey, Nino! Listen, why didn’t you—”

“Adrien asked me out,” he blurts out. How is he standing up right now?

“One second,” Alya says calmly. He hears her put her phone down and say something, but it’s too muffled for him to make out the words. Then he hears a very loud “Holy shit!” and someone scream.

“You’re on speaker now,” Alya says.

“He asked you out?!” Marinette asks. “Oh my god, Nino! That’s so—”

“He only did it because of Chloé,” Nino explains quickly. “He didn’t want to hang out with her today and I was there and—”

“Boo,” Alya interrupts.

“Hey, at least someone took a move,” Marinette says. “Even if it’s…not really the way you wanted it?”

Nino can practically see Alya nodding. “We can work with this,” she insists.

Nino rubs the bridge of his nose. “I’ve never even said anything to you two about this before, how do you even know that I—?”

“Nino, I love you,” Marinette says simply. “But you are just so so so obvious when you have a crush.”

Alya hums in agreement.

“Fuck my life,” Nino mutters. “Do you think he— wait hold on, I’ve got another call.” He pulls his phone away from his ear to find out who’s interrupting his crisis.

Adrien.

“Sorry, guys,” he says quickly. “I have to go, Adrien’s calling.”

“Boy,” Alya says, “you better—”

Beep beep beep.

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” He tries to see if there’s any change in his voice when he talks to Adrien. He doesn’t doubt that he’s super obvious, but what had Marinette and Alya noticed specifically?

“I have news,” Adrien says, in a sort of breathless way that makes Nino smile despite himself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! Big news! I mean, maybe not that big but considering… I mean—”

“You’re rambling,” Nino points out gently.

“Right! I talked to my dad.”

Nino stops walking, blood cold.

“Because…um yeah, I know that didn’t go well last time. But uh— it went well! He actually approved of…you know.”

Nino swallows. He’s about to respond when he realizes he doesn’t actually know what Gabriel approved of. If it’s the bi thing or the dating thing or the Nino thing. “Uh, I don’t think I do? What part of like…all the stuff that happened today did he approve of?” “I mean…specifically the dating part. Specifically the you part. I’m guessing that means he’s okay with all of it.”

Nino laughs nervously. “Seriously? Like…seriously?” He has made a very clear point to steer clear from Gabriel Agreste whenever he can. He hasn’t exactly gotten past the whole Bubbler incident. He probably will one day. When Gabriel stops being a dick. Or when Adrien moves out and gets far away.

Nino is making sure he gets far, far away.

“Hey, you’re great,” Adrien says sincerely. “No matter what my dad may say. I’ll see you tonight?”

Nino nods before he realizes that Adrien can’t see that over the phone. “Yeah man, I’ll see you then.”

Adrien takes a deep breath as he adjusts his tie in the mirror. He’s probably adjusted it three or four times at this point, but he’s nervous. Fake date or not.

“We’re going to miss patrol tonight,” Plagg wines. “We’re going to miss patrol, and why? Because the boy can’t keep it in his pants that’s why.”

Adrien rolls his eyes. “So when I want to patrol, you’re so tired that you don’t think you can move another inch. But when I want to skip—”

“Yada yada yada, it’s all just noise to me, kid.” Plagg floats up to block his face in the mirror. “If you’re going to make me suffer through this, do you at least have some Camembert?”

“Nope.” Adrien steps to the side and runs his hand through his hair, checking his reflection. “You’ve had enough—” Plagg scoffs. “—and I need to save some for tonight when I go on patrol.”

Plagg eyes him. “So you’re going to ditch your date? Your best friend date? Your ‘I have a disgusting crush on you and refuse to say anything for whatever reason or another and it’s gross’ date? And I thought you were smart.”

Adrien gives him a flat look. “I’m going to do a quick, five minute patrol, and then go back to Nino. Just make sure everything’s okay.”

Plagg stares at him for a long moment and then zips away, off to find something more interesting to do. “It’s your funeral,” he says from his trash can.

Alya grins and throws open the closet doors. “You have to give us something to work with here. Give me an angle to shoot for.”

Nino sits in his desk chair, that Alya had dragged to the center of his room and shoved him into, and tries not to glance back to the drawer Tikki is sleeping in too often. Marinette is standing behind him, resting her arms on the back of the chair and slowly making it turn back and for a bit. It’s kind of comforting among the whirlwind that is Alya Césaire.

“An angle?” he asks.

Marinette taps his head and smiles down at him. “She means ‘what do you want Adrien to think of you as’.” Nino stares at her. “Do you want cute?” Marinette continues, waving a hand. “Mysterious? Nice?”

“Sexy?” Alya asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

Nino sinks down lower in his chair. “I don’t trust you, can’t Marinette do this?”

Alya scowls and crosses her arms as Marinette laughs.

“It’ll be fine,” Marinette promises. “I’m here to make sure that Alya doesn’t send you out in something awful. But believe me, Alya is better at the actual dating aspect of this.”

Alya flips her hair over her shoulder. “Of course I am. Now come on,” she snaps, “angle.”

Nino sighs and pulls off his hat. “I don’t know man, I just want Adrien to see…me? I guess?” Marinette coos above him. “I want him to like me because of me, not because I’m wearing a nice outfit. Plus, he asked me out to get out of dinner with Chloé so it’s not like…” He gestures with a hand for a second before shrugging.

Alya puts her hands on her hips. “Please. I’ve — we’ve — seen the way he looks at you. If this was just an accident, then I’m Ladybug.”

Nino bites back a smile as Alya disappears into his closet.

“Don’t worry so much,” Marinette says, spinning Nino around to face her. “If it helps, don’t think about it as a date too much. You’re going out to dinner with your best friend. If it becomes something more, just go with the flow. You’re good at that.”

He smiles weakly. “Thanks, Mar.”

“I’ve got it!” Alya shouts from his closet. Marinette turns Nino so he can see the shirt she’s holding up.

He looks up to Marinette for a second opinion.

She gives him a thumbs up.

Adrien checks his watch. He takes a sip of water, puts down his glass, and checks again.

He’s a little early, but he’s also kind of paranoid. He doesn’t think Nino would stand him up, but what if? He shoves those thoughts to the back of his mind and checks his watch once more. He’s trying to keep from obsessively watching the door, but obsessively checking the time isn’t much better. If anything, it probably just looks sad.

He can’t stop himself and glances toward the door.

Nino is standing by the door, and he’s somehow managed to look more attractive than usual.

He’s wearing a blue button up shirt with grey vest over it and slightly darker gray pants. His hair looks slightly different, but Adrien can’t place exactly what he did differently, because he’s kind of distracted by just…all of Nino.

That was a gayer thought than Adrien was ready for.

“Adrien!”

Adrien winces as Chloé comes running up to the table, fake worry painted on her face. “Hey, Chloé,” he mumbles.

“Poor Adrien,” she croons. “All alone and—”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Nino asks. He bumps Chloé’s shoulder as he passes her to sit down. “Sorry I was late, thanks for waiting.” He gives Adrien a crooked smile. He looks up to Chloé with a bored expression. “Hey, we’re sort of on a date so could you…” He makes a dismissive motion with his hand.

Chloé scowls. “But—”

“Bye.”

She spins on her heel, dress swishing around her legs as she storms off.

Adrien puffs up his cheeks and blows air out of his mouth. “Thanks for that.” Nino shrugs. “No problem, dude. She’s a lot to deal with when you’re not in the mood.” He gives Adrien a knowing look as he picks up his glass of water.

Adrien gives him a relieved smile. “Yeah, she’s…yeah.” He spent most of the day trying to decide what to do about Chloé and he’s still coming up blank. Dating Nino is a good reason not to be around Chloé until he decides, but he’s not sure how long he can handle the fake part of this fake dating thing.

Crash!

The building shakes as someone lands on the pavement outside, the sidewalk buckling under the force of their landing.

Adrien grimaces as the murmur of the restaurant gets louder and looks outside, dread pooling in his stomach. An obnoxiously colored akuma laughs as people run away screaming.

Really? Tonight?

“I am the Bookworm!” they shout. “Let all children learn!”

“Well that’s lame,” Nino mutters.

Adrien hears Chloé shriek as the akuma shatters a window near her. He turns to Nino, cursing silently. “Get out of here! I’ll follow you!” He watches the Bookworm leap into the air out of his peripheral vision.

Nino shakes his head. “No, I’ll follow you.”

“I’ll follow you.”

“No, you.”

Adrien gives Nino an exasperated look. “No, you—”

The Bookworm lands with another crash, denting the top of a car.

“Go!” Nino shouts, grabbing Adrien’s hand and throwing him forward.

Adrien’s mind goes blank and he runs. He sprints to the bathroom without looking back and ducks into one of the stalls, eyeing the tiny window near the sink. He can make that work.

“Plagg,” he hisses, “claws out!”

Chat forces the bathroom window open and squeezes his way out, tumbling out onto the street right in front of the Bookworm.

He stands and dusts off his hands. “You know,” he drawls. “I was having a really nice night before you showed up.” He glares at them for a moment before he leaps into action, hoping that Ladybug is nearby, because he has to apologize to Nino for skipping out on their date.

It doesn’t take Ladybug and Chat too long to defeat the Bookworm.

They stand on the roof, looking out over the rooftops of Paris. The lights of the streets against the colors of the sky is something else. Artistic and beautiful and all that.

“So,” Chat says suddenly, “how’d you get here so quickly?”

Ladybug looks to him in confusion. “What do you mean? You were here first?”

Chat shrugs. “Yeah, but I know what I was doing. I have no clue what you do with your time.” He looks to Ladybug with large, questioning eyes.

They’re weirdly familiar.

Ladybug shrugs. There’s no real reason to soften it, no matter how Chat might feel. He knows at some point Chat had feelings for him but… “I was on a date,” he says simply.

Chat perks up a surprising amount. “No way! So was I!”

Ladybug blinks. “You…were?” He glances toward the restaurant across the street. “What were you doing?”

“Getting dinner. Or, you know, starting to when…” Chat hooks his thumbs together to make a butterfly. “Only got to the drinks part of dinner. You?”

“Same here.” Ladybug throws his yoyo up and down a few times. “Feel kind of bad for abandoning my date.”

Chat sighs. “Yeah mine was…kind of a mess.”

Ladybug frowns. “What happened? Bad date?”

Chat shakes his head. “No it was… I mean, it wasn’t the most ideal situation, which made it kind of a mess.” He shrugs. “I asked out my best friend.” Ladybug whistles lowly and Chat winces. “Yeah but it was like… I wanted to ask him out for a while, but I was kind of scared because…friends have never been part of my life before, you know?”

Ladybug didn’t know, actually. They don’t talk about their personal lives, it’s just not how they roll. He tries not to stare too much as Chat continues on.

“So not only was I trying to figure out a way to ask him out without potentially ruining our friendship, but that would also mean coming out and I wasn’t really sure if I was ready for that and then—” Chat laughs awkwardly. “Then one of my old friends asked me out to dinner.”

Ladybug’s yoyo hits his hand and then clatters to the ground when he doesn’t throw it.

Chat rubs the back of his neck and stares out across the skyline. “She asked me to dinner tonight and I’m kind of working through something with her, so I panicked, and he was there so I just…”

Ladybug stares at him, frozen in place. There’s no way, right? Chat can’t be— But it’s so specific, and there’s no way this is a common thing.

“We were having dinner nearby,” Chat says, gesturing vaguely in the direction of Restaurant Lasserre. Which Ladybug only knows because they were there together.

“I, uh, gotta go,” Ladybug says. He ignores Chat’s questioning look and spins away, shouting, “Have to check on my date, bye!” over his shoulder and running down the length of the roof before leaping off. He throws his yoyo and swings around the corner, trying to keep from panicking until he’s somewhere other than a hundred feet above the city.

He drops to the ground in an emptier part of Paris, earrings beeping. He ducks into a dark alleyway and detransforms in the darkness, slumping against the brick wall.

His phone vibrates in his pocket. He takes a deep breath and pulls it out, squinting at Adrien’s text in the darkness.

From: model boy To: mixtape master Hey are you okay?? I didn’t see you leave

Nino closes his eyes tightly and presses the screen to his forehead.

This is a mess. His entire life is a goddamn mess.

“Are you okay, Nino?” Tikki asks, pressing her paws to Nino’s nose.

“Adrien is Chat Noir.”

It feels weird saying outloud. Part of him feels like…he already should’ve known this? Or something? It’s kind of like a weight off his shoulders as an anchor drags him down.

Adrien is Chat Noir. Of course he is.

Tikki hums in agreement. “Yes he is.”

Nino cracks open an eye. “You knew?”

She smiles sheepishly. “Yeah.”

He groans and hits his head against the wall.

“Careful!”

“You know he has the biggest crush on Ladybug, right?” Nino mumbles.

“You’re Ladybug,” Tikki points out.

“Yeah but—”

She crosses her arms. “Nino Lahiffe, we are not having this conversation in a dirty back alley. If you’re going to put yourself down, at least do it while on a full stomach.”

Nino takes a deep breath and pushes away from the wall. “Yeah, yeah you’re right. Let’s go home.”

He tries to stay positive, but it’s a long walk and Adrien has always been the more optimistic one in their relationship.

“What did I do wrong?” Adrien checks his phone again as he paces around the room, Plagg lazily floating behind him. “I don’t know— What did I do?”

Plagg yawns. “I don’t know. You’re the genius here.”

“Plagg.”

Plagg floats toward the computer. “My fee is one piece of camembert per hint.”

Adrien tugs his hands through his hair. First, Ladybug bolts. Then Nino ignores him. He can deal with Ladybug later, but right now he really just wants to know if Nino is okay.

The rational part of him is saying ‘yes, of course Nino is okay, Ladybug fixes everything!’ The irrational part of him has been loudly freaking out for over an hour.

“Think about what you said to Ladybug,” Plagg says, voice flat. “Anything stick out to you?”

Adrien sinks into the chair in front of his computer. “I don’t know? I told him about my date with Nino? But I didn’t use names or anything—”

Plagg groans loudly.

Adrien spins around. “Is it something I said? When I was telling him about the date?” He chews on his lip as he tries to remember the conversation. Ladybug had seemed sort of weird when he was describing the events that lead up to the date but… “Ladybug is Nino’s friend,” he says slowly. “Do you think he knows— Would Nino have told him—?”

“How can you be missing something so obvious?” Plagg asks. “It’s literally staring you in the face.”

“What do you—”

Plagg flies over and yanks on Adrien’s hair until Adrien turns the chair to face the computer. The Ladyblog is up on the monitor, like it usually is. Right now, a video from the Pharaoh is playing silently.

Adrien shakes his head and looks to Plagg, who’s sitting next to the mouse. “Well if it’s really that obvious, I think you’re going to have to hit me with it a little harder.”

Plagg scowls and hits the mouse.

Adrien glances up to find himself staring at a hi-res picture of Ladybug. An incredible closeup that he can only thank Alya’s surprisingly good camera phone for. He finds himself staring into Ladybug’s eyes, something he’s spent way too long doing, when he suddenly gets the strangest feeling of familiarity. And a different type than the usual.

He’s seen those eyes before, behind something other than a mask.

He hears Ladybug’s voice in his mind, but it’s not the Ladybug from the videos or the Ladybug in his mind, it’s—

Adrien shoves away from his keyboard, almost falling backward in his chair as he does so. As soon as he regains his balance and his senses, he pulls himself closer again and types rapidly. He searches the Ladyblog, watching the people in the background instead of just Ladybug for once. The one person he’s never noticed was missing before.

The ‘Could You Be Ladybug?’ link in the upper righthand corner catches Adrien’s eye. He’s never bothered to click it before; Ladybug didn’t want him knowing who he was, so Adrien never tried to find out. But now—

He clicks the link and opens up a digital yearbook Alya had thrown together for everyone in the class while the page loads. He screenshots the picture and closes it, uploading Nino’s yearbook picture to the Ladyblog.

Adrien takes a few slow breaths as the little yoyo loading icon spins in and out. And in and out. In and out. In and out.

The yoyo vanishes. And Ladybug is smirking at him as he poses for a school picture.

Nino groans and pulls his pillow over his face. He’s about to complain to Tikki that he doesn’t want to be awake right now when she shushes him.

He lifts the pillow and squints into the darkness, looking over to glowing red numbers next to his bed. 24:37. He sits up and looks to Tikki when a dark shape lands on his balcony, catching his attention.

He’s about to go into fight or flight mode when he sees the cat ears against the dim glow of the city and realizes the footsteps are too light for anyone other than a feline superhero.

Tikki hovers by Nino’s shoulder and whispers. “He said he was coming a few minutes ago. I thought we had more time before— I’m sorry.”

Still half asleep, he pats the top of her head with a finger and says, “It’s chill. Gotta do it eventually, you know?” He throws off his covers and almost trips over the cable of his laptop charger, running a hand through his hair.

Nino pulls the balcony door open and Chat’s ears flick toward him.

It’s kind of cold out. Nino’s arms are covered in tiny goosebumps and he finds himself thinking that Chat probably shouldn’t remember his address still but— yeah. It makes sense that Chat knows.

Chat turns to look at him, eyes glowing in the darkness. He tilts his head at Nino, like he’s trying to piece something together. Which doesn’t make sense, because don’t they know everything now? All cards on the table?

Nino takes a few steps out on the balcony. The distance between them feels sort of impersonal. Too big for two people who are supposed to be best friends and went on a date a few hours ago, fake as it might have been.

They’re close enough that Nino could reach out and touch him. So he does. Just to make sure that Chat is actually there and he’s not dreaming or hallucinating or something. There’s a lot of magic in his life right now.

Nino’s palm presses against the textured spandex of Chat’s suit.

He’s definitely real. They’re doing this.

They stare at each other for a few moments, Nino’s hand on Chat’s chest and Chat’s eyes bright green and questioning.

“I don’t know what to do, LB,” Chat whispers. He looks away from Nino and down at his feet, ears pressed flat against his hair.

Nino pulls his hand back, not really sure what to do either. So he does what he always does when he’s not sure how to react to Adrien. He hugs him.

Nino wraps his arms around Chat’s neck and pulls him close, burying his face in Chat’s ridiculous, windswept superhero hair. Chat hugs him back, squeezing him tightly as ever, like Nino’s going to disappear from his arms or something.

This is whole thing was kind of a mess, wasn’t it? Chat falling for Ladybug, Nino being Ladybug. Nino falling for Adrien, Adrien being Chat. A weird love circle. Pretty messy and totally pointless.

It’s funny, because they probably could’ve and should’ve figured this out earlier. But they didn’t and now they have lost time to make up for.

So Nino pulls away and presses his lips against Chat’s and he’s sort of terrified but mostly just relieved. Because there’s no longer a circle of love, there’s just the two of them.

His lips taste like euphoria, like the feeling in the pit of Nino’s stomach when he reaches the top of the roller coaster and knows the drop was coming.

Chat is still for a moment and then he’s kissing Nino back, lips soft and hands gripping Nino’s shirt. There’s a flash of light that Nino sees behind closed eyelids, and he pulls away to see Adrien standing in front of him, breathless and smiling and perfect in all his imperfections.

Adrien cups Nino’s face in his hands and kisses him again, smiling widely against Nino’s lips.

“Did you know,” Nino asks when Adrien breaks the kiss, “that I have like, a really really big crush on you?”

Adrien presses their noses together. “That’s kind of gay.”

Nino laughs against Adrien’s lips before kissing him again and again. There’s nothing he wants more in the world than to be able to keep kissing Adrien Agreste under the starry night sky until the end of time.

#adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #adrinino #adrino #outsidethelovesquare #my fics #ITS DONE #a miracle and a half

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beatyoutothepunchline · 6 years ago

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A Dumb Girls Guide to Dinner for One

When I was a kid, I was given "A Smart Girls Guide" a series of practical advice books created by American Girl for helping tween girls navigate the awkward transition from childhood and becoming a young adult. These books covered everything from friendship troubles to boys, manners, middle school, and sticky situations. (As if that entire phase of my life *cringes at the awkward 7th-grade first-day-of-school photo* wasn't one in and of itself). For being such a "smart girl" you'd think some of these things would have come naturally to me, but apparently not because I was given seven of these books by different family members. Most of this information (if not entirely lost on me) was eventually rendered irrelevant. I am no longer in middle school, my friendships no longer are angsty and problematic, I slowly acquired manners, and have given up on men. That being said, as I now make the transition from a college student to grown ass woman, I wish there was a series of books with advice on things like, What to do when it is just you... in an apartment and you hate cooking but should probably eat something other than a gigantic Rice Krispie Treat. Because, hahaha... that definitely isn't what's happening right now... As the old saying goes, you only learn by doing. And I've only ever used an oven when it was absloutly necessary for my survival or to impress a man (Which, unless you enjoy/know how to cook is a monumental waste of time, speaking from personal experience). Luckily though, I've managed to come up with a few "dishes" along the way that are quick and easy enough for my dumbass to get by. NOTE: Before I get too far into this, I just want to say that this is all stuff I've found works for me. You can swap out or add anything. I'm not saying this is healthy (God knows I could use some more fruits and vegetables) and it might not be for everyone. So take what you want and leave the rest. Breakfast: I am occasionally a breakfast person. Only when I'm hungover, am on vacation, or am near Wheatfields in my hometown of Omaha, NE. On these such occasions, I splurge and get the croque madame and sangria, or the Nutella crepes and fancy coffee. However, every now and again, there is that weird Tuesday morning I want to eat but want to be economical, and in that kind of situation, this is what I do: Peanut Butter/Coffee/Protein Shake --1 Chocolate Premier Protein shake. (Or any protein shake/power of your choice. I like this kind because they sell in bulk at Costco. It's high in protein, low in sugar and is Keto friendly for those folks out there that are into that.) --1 spoon of peanut butter. I don't measure. I use the au natural PB from TJ's because it's cheap and a little better for you than Jiff or Skippy, but you do you man. --3 shakes of cinnamon. --A splash of vanilla extract. --1 Cup of coffee. If you are fancy this can be some Cold Brew, but if you are cheap like me I'm usually good with sticking some day old Folders in the fridge the night before and throwing that in there. (Optional) --1/2 a frozen banana. Gives it a little something extra in the taste department and can work like ice cubes if nothing else is chilled or frozen. Because breakfast shakes, like soft serve, gazpacho, and revenge is a dish best served ice cold. Then just blend it together whatever way you see fit. The stick blender your mom bought you exactly for this purpose that up until last month you only used for margaritas, a food processor some family member gave you when you graduated high school as if you'd be whipping up pesto on a nightly basis. "What a score! Thanks, Aunt Karen!" A hand blender, a KitchenAid mixer (assuming you took this whole cooking thing to the max and want to pretend your Martha Stewart). A bowl and a fork or a Ziplock bag (if your broke and or don't want to make the investment and/or missed the arm day at the gym). Lunch: At this point in the day, I'm usually getting done with a class or am about to wind sprint to one because I'm running late. I wish I was one of those people that was motivated enough to precut my imperfect produce shipment on Sunday night and make five perfectly portioned salasd to put in mason jars and drizzle on a homemade dressing, but I would be BS-ing you if I said I did that. Honestly, I've made it through most of college on vending machine lunches and have been totally content, but at some point, my Cherry Coke and pretzels are going to catch up and I'm going to lose all my hair or something. So I've got a few things I usually do for lunch that are quick and painless. Recently I rediscovered the simple quesadilla (or in my weird family we call them...) Torcheetas --1 handful of whatever kind of cheese you like. I personally dig the "Mexican blend" from TJ's. --1-8 tortillas (depending on how hungry you are). Let's get real, there's a healthy way to make this and then there is a drunk at three AM way to make this dish. --Saracha (or whatever salsa/sauce you're into) (Optional) --1 serving of frozen peas (for vegetables) --1 serving of beans (for protein) --side salad? (I don't usually do this, but it's something my mom would do to make it extra healthy. Doesn't have to be fancy, just lettuce, maybe some baby tomatoes.) If you have time turn on the skillet on low, throw some oil in the pan, gently swirling it until it evenly coats the bottom until toasted to perfection. But if you're in a hurry or just incredibly hungry a microwave will do just as fine. Dinner: Again, if I'm being perfectly honest most nights it's two slices of pizza from the 7/11 next to my building and a green tea or La Croix I keep stockpiled under my bed like an extreme couponer. So I usually do that or if I'm feeling it I'll do a salmon sandwich (which sounds gross but can be made to taste halfway decent. --Do yourself a favor. Buy yourself a decent loaf of bread. None of this off-brand Wonder Bread nonsense. It's weak and if it doesn't entirely fall apart in your hands as you eat it, it will stick to the roof of your mouth. Wheat bread has some health benefits but is dry as hell, bland, and usually more sugar than you think. Buy yourself a nice sourdough. It'll put you out three ish bucks. --Get yourself some canned salmon or tuna. Target usually has a 5 for 10 dollar deal on the Starkist Tuna. Costco sells really high-quality stuff canned stuff like the Kirkland Signature Wild Alaskan Pink Salmon. But if you're like, "Ew, no. I don't eat anything from a can," then there's always stuff in the deli. If you happen to live in a big city, I highly recommend small mom and pop deli shops because they sell things you can't get anywhere else and it's usually a little fresher. --MUSTARD (to taste). Okay, for real though. Personally, I am a dijon fiend but the generic stuff will do the job. (But you went the distance so far, so why half-ass it now?) Toast the bread. (Again, this small step makes a world of difference in the final product). And assemble. Add a side salad, peas. (A vegetable of some kind?) Then get realistic and pair it with a beer or a scoop of Cherry Garcia (and by scoop I mean accidental pint :/ whoops) because you are human, and maybe because it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, your year... I'll be there for you cause I've been there too. Look, this isn't going to turn into a Julie and Julia type situation because I hate cooking. I find zero joy in it. But, I'd also like to eat something other than gas station delicacies until I die, so... I'm going to try a few things out. While I'm off burning tortillas, I'd love to hear your half-assed meals and how to make them diversify my menu.

#theblondefiasco #writing #blogpost

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anavoliselenu · 7 years ago

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Creighton chapter 9

Fuck that. This woman owns me.

I grab my boxer briefs off the floor, using them to catch the mess as I force myself to slide my dick out of her. I could happily stay inside her forever. Get me a phone with a never-ending battery life and I could do my business right here, while I give her the business.

God, I’m a fucking pervert.

I lift Selena off the couch and into my arms. Her head lolls against my chest, and her arms hang limp.

“Baby, you okay?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Let’s get you in the bath and clean you up.”

“Mm-hmm.”

I chuckle at her languid response, and love that I’m the reason for it.

Settling her on the side of the tub, I flip on both faucets. Given that it’s the size of a small pool, it’ll take a while for it to fill. Without the insane water pressure I have, it would take an hour.

Crouching in front of her, I lift her chin and meet her still-dilated eyes. “You okay, babe? That was pretty intense.” She nods silently. “Give me the words.”

“I’m okay. I’m really, really . . . okay.”

I smile at her response and rest a hand on her thigh, not far from the pussy that has me by the balls.

“You want me to take the plug out?”

A pretty pink blush covers her face, and her gaze drops away from mine as she shakes her head.

“Is that a no?” Another silent nod. “Words, Selena.”

“No. I don’t want you to take it out yet,” she whispers to the floor.

My cock goes rock hard. Moments ago, I would have bet my jet that couldn’t happen this fast. I would have been wrong—and flying commercial.

“And why’s that?”

Her blush deepens when she replies, “Because I like it. And if I like that this much, I want to know what else I might . . . you know . . . like more. Which I’m assuming requires a little, um, prep? So yeah. That’s why.”

I feel her words in my dick and somewhere deep in my gut.

“Jesus Christ, Selena. You’re fucking amazing.”

I stand, scoop her back up, and settle us both in the partially filled tub. I keep her cradled in my arms, not wanting to let go of her yet. It’s like I’m worried that somehow she’ll slip away and I’ll lose her—and that’s not something I want to contemplate.

She leans her head against my chest, and I brush her hair away from her face so I can see her eyes. I don’t know what I’m hoping to see in them, but I know I need this connection as much as I think she does.

This is a novel feeling for me. Even with the few longer-term relationships I’ve had, I’ve never felt like this. I knew she was something special; I wouldn’t have done what I did and married her if I didn’t think so. But it was a crazy-ass stunt I cooked up on the spur of the moment, and I would have never guessed I’d start to feel like . . . this.

Whatever the hell this is.

I refuse to eat naked, and Justin’s narrowed gaze doesn’t change my mind.

And so instead, I’m wearing his T-shirt and sitting in the middle of his dining room table. It’s a very Sixteen Candles moment. I could swear I’m in the last scene, and I should be sitting on Jake Ryan’s table with Samantha’s birthday cake between us.

Except we don’t have a birthday cake between us—we have enough sushi for a party of five—and I’ve just lost another kind of virginity tonight, because I’ve never eaten raw fish before. I figured, what the hell, I’ve already done something way more off the wall, so why not? And I’m glad I did, because it was a-maz-ing.

I’m a total klutz with chopsticks, so I give up and pick up the piece of something Justin called a rainbow roll and dip it into soy sauce mixed with a small bump of wasabi. I hold my hand under it to catch the drips as I lift it to my mouth, already anticipating the symphony of flavors I’m about to unleash.

Justin’s smile is downright amused, but I don’t care. He might as well see how completely unsophisticated I still am in so many ways. At least he won’t expect to take me out to some fancy restaurant until I’ve had time to master chopsticks. It’s not like we used them to eat hot wings at the bowling alley.

I moan in delight as I savor the taste of the sushi I’ve just popped into my mouth. It’s so damn good, and I say so to Justin as soon as my mouth isn’t stuffed full.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“I can’t believe I never wanted to try it before. If I’d only known what I was missing . . .”

“I’m glad you’re open to trying new things, Selena.” His lips twitch into a less amused smile. “I can’t wait to see what we can conquer next.”

I lift my sweet tea, procured by Justin at my request, to take a sip. “It’ll have to wait until after the tour.” I note Justin’s frown and add, “You didn’t forget that, right?”

“No, but I forgot to tell the pilot.”

Oh, that’s not a good sign. “Maybe you should do that?”

He shoves a hand through his hair and slides off the table. I’m hoping he’s taking care of the situation, and in the meantime I watch the play of the muscles in his back, all the way down the waistband of his gym shorts, as he crosses the dining room and disappears into the kitchen. His voice carries, and I’m pleased to hear he’s making the call.

I pick up his half of the conversation.

“This is Karas. I’ll need the jet the day after tomorrow. Make sure it’s ready by four.”

“Good. Text me if anything comes up in preflight.”

“Thanks.”

I’m feeling the warm glow of contentment that he’s making sure I’m going to get back to Nashville early when he heads back into the dining room and climbs back onto the table. But not on his side. He settles himself behind me, lifting me so I sit on his lap.

“We’re going to teach you to eat with chopsticks.”

“This is going to get messier than it already is, then.”

“So be it.” He grabs the chopsticks with his left hand and places them in my right hand, positioning my fingers awkwardly around them. “Like this.”

He guides my chopstick-holding hand to the sushi and manipulates my fingers until we’ve picked up a piece and dipped it in soy sauce. Ever so carefully, we lift it toward my mouth. Which is right about when I realize what we’re doing is almost more intimate than when he bent me over the back of the couch.

My hand shakes, and the chopsticks lose their light grip right before it reaches my lips . . . and the cold rice and fish slips right down the neck of the T-shirt I’m wearing.

“Damn it,” I say. “I knew this was going to be a disaster.”

Sushi might be delicious, but it feels kinda gross now that the rice is stuck to my boobs and the fish is somewhere farther south, near my own tuna.

Justin chuckles before reaching his hand down the neck of the shirt and scooping up the remains. I twist and watch as he pops it into his mouth.

“Tastes even better.”

I slip my hand under the shirt and grab the errant piece of fish, holding it between a thumb and forefinger. He nips my fingers before snatching it up.

“How about we skip the chopsticks? I’m lucky if I can figure out which fork to use. Adding in completely new utensils isn’t really fair for this Kentucky girl.” I lean back against him, the novelty of this position not yet wearing off.

“Tell me about it.”

His question confuses me. “Tell you about what?”

“Being a Kentucky girl.”

I twist again to take in his expression. He looks genuinely curious, but that doesn’t really make me want to share. My upbringing was light years away from anything Justin can imagine.

“Nothing much to tell.”

“Now, that I don’t believe.”

I think about what I can tell him.

I was born in a tiny town with one red blinking light. I’m not even sure that qualifies as a one-stoplight town. I never knew my father, probably because my mama wasn’t so sure who he was either. My earliest memory was stuffing all my toys and clothes in a garbage bag and dragging it behind me as we moved from trailer to trailer through the park as she hooked up with loser after loser. Paper-thin walls didn’t muffle the sound of her “earning” our keep.

I took refuge in music—putting my headphones on and turning up the volume to drown it all out. One of the least loser-ish of the losers gave me a hand-me-down iPod loaded with tons of country music. Living in Kentucky, that’s about all I heard anyway, but he had the classics too. Loretta Lynn, old Reba, the Man in Black—I soaked up their words and eventually started writing my own.

When I was fourteen, my mama hooked up with a man who had enough money to buy her a Cadillac Eldorado, but didn’t want to have anything to do with a kid. She clutched the keys to her new Eldo in her hand as she told me to pack my bags, because I was moving in with my gran.

Doing what I’ve done so many times before, I loaded everything I owned into a garbage bag and stuffed it in the trunk of the Eldo. My one and only ride in that car was across the river, where she dropped me off like a litter of unwanted kittens. I suppose I should be lucky she didn’t stop at the bridge and attempt to drown me. Gran lived a half mile from the happening hot spot in town: Pints and Pins, affectionately known as Brews and Balls by the locals.

But I couldn’t tell him most any of that. I decide on the streamlined version.

“I’m from a one-stoplight town. My gran raised me after my mama decided to do some exploring. It was better that way, because Mama bounced us around a lot, depending on what guy she was . . . dating at the time. I worked at a bowling alley to help make extra money.”

My gran and Brews and Balls were both my salvation in different ways. Gran because she welcomed me with open arms and gave me the unconditional love and stability I lacked for the first fourteen years of my life. Birthday cakes, Christmas presents—those things became expected instead of the hit-or-miss mess they were with my mama.

When he doesn’t speak, I continue to fill the silence. “Gran lived on Social Security, so every extra dollar helped.”

To myself I add, Because my mama sure didn’t send any home. Nope, after she packed up her Eldo and hooked it to the back of the rich man’s motorhome and rode out of town, we didn’t hear from her for years.

Shaking off the bitterness, I kept going. “Brews and Balls was the first stage I ever stood on to sing in front of people. One karaoke night, the crowd wasn’t getting into it, so Benny, the owner, decided to take matters into his own hands. He’d heard me singing to myself in the kitchen while I was frying up onion rings and hot wings and chicken fingers, and decided that I’d do just fine. He pushed me out of the kitchen and into the bar, not even giving me time to drop my apron. The song was ‘Born to Fly’ by Sara Evans. When I finished, there was dead silence . . . and then the crowd went crazy.”

I close my eyes, the memory still vivid in my head. When I stepped off the stage, Benny had tears in his eyes. “You surely were born to fly, Selena.” He was the first and only man ever to believe in me.

And wouldn’t he just be proud of me now? Mostly naked with a butt plug up my ass, sitting on this man’s lap who I married after spending a single night with him.

I push the thought away. I’m going back to Tennessee in less than forty-eight hours. Back to normal. Which was a crazy thought all by itself—that my normal is life on a tour bus, heading out to sing in front of crowds of thousands in stadiums across the country. That’s what I need to focus on, not the man whose chest I’m pressed against and the awkward silence I’m just now realizing has overtaken the room.

“How’d you go from karaoke in a bar to touring?”

“Benny pushed me to try out for Country Dreams, and when I got past the initial audition, I decided I couldn’t go because Gran’s health was getting rocky. I couldn’t leave her, and we couldn’t afford in-home care. But somehow, through the grapevine, my mama heard about the show and that I was going to turn it down, and she showed up on Gran’s doorstep the day before I needed to report to Nashville for filming. She promised she’d take care of Gran if I’d only just take this shot.”

I swallow, the lump in my throat growing. The last part of this story is the hardest, and the reason for the guilt that tugs at my soul on a regular basis.

“When the finals came around and I made the cut, my mama decided Gran could take care of herself, so she left her. She just wanted to be on TV when they showed my family in the audience, and meet some famous people.” I pause, my heart clenching at the memory. “But Gran fell and hit her head, and never woke up again. She died before I could make it home to even sit by her bedside.”

“I’m so sorry,” he starts, but all the emotions and memories are bursting through my walls, and I can’t stop.

“You want to know what it’s like to wish I’d never taken a shot at my dream because my selfishness—and my idiot move to trust my mama—was responsible for the death of the only person who ever really cared about me?”

“Selena—”

“Or that I’ve been ignoring dozens of missed calls and messages that I know are from her because she’s probably seen the news, and the only reason she’d be calling is for money?”

His arms wrap around me and squeeze me tight. “Selena, slow down. Breathe.”

His words highlight the fact that I’m breathing so fast, I’m liable to hyperventilate. Justin rubs my back as I force myself to slow my breaths until my chest rises and falls in time with his.

Crap. I can’t believe I just spilled all of that. I’ve officially shattered any illusion that Justin might have had about my background.

I pull away from him and stumble off the table. My soul is shredded with the telling of it, and I’m too raw to face him and his questions any longer.

“I think I’ve had enough sushi tonight. I need a shower to clean up now too.”

I don’t look him in the eye, and I don’t wait for a response. I turn on my heel and head for the bathroom.

His ominous words follow me inside. “This conversation isn’t over.”

I’m naked in bed, waiting for Selena, when I hear her voice coming from the bathroom. She’s singing. Even though it’s muffled by the water, glass, and walls between us, I can tell it’s heartbroken and haunting. I didn’t plan on that kind of emotional baggage from someone so young, but it’s impossible to ignore. She’s not broken, but she thinks she is.

The sound of her voice has me on my feet and crossing the room to stand in the bathroom doorway.

Steam fills the shower enclosure, but I can see her clearly enough to watch her rinse the shampoo from her hair. As the suds slide down her body, her voice grows quiet before she stops. I wonder if she realizes that I’m watching, but instead she presses both hands to the tile shower wall and leans forward.

In that moment, I know the water is drowning her tears, and I feel an urge I’ve never felt directed toward someone who wasn’t family: the urge to comfort. I dried my little sister’s tears once upon a time, but I never expected that another woman’s would affect me so acutely.

I want to walk into the shower and pull her into my arms, but I have a gut feeling that she wouldn’t welcome the knowledge that I’m seeing her at her weakest. Selena may be submissive sexually, but her inner fire and spark is driven by pride that I realize mirrors my own. She’s young, but she’s lived a hard life already.

I have the inexplicable desire to make it easy for her. To wash away the guilt and hurt in a way the water never will. But I don’t know how to do that. It’s something even my money can’t buy. And the very fact that I wish I could scares the fucking hell out of me in the way I’ve never experienced.

What is she doing to me? I want to own her, keep her, ensure that she’s mine, but I didn’t expect to feel like . . . like this. The intensity of my need would scare the shit out of her too.

I turn away when she pushes off the wall and reaches for the shower control to turn the water off. By the time she leaves the bathroom, I’m back in bed with a myriad of possible things to say running through my mind.

But every single thought flies from my brain when she walks into the bedroom, wet and naked.

Fuck, but the woman’s body is downright sinful. Full tits, small waist, flared hips, toned legs. Even as all of the blood in my brain rushes directly to my cock, I have enough brain cells firing to appreciate that she’s more than a traffic-stopping body. She also has invisible scars and insecurities that I need a map to navigate without triggering. I’m starting to comprehend the enormity of what I’ve undertaken when I said, “I do.”

She stops, and her teeth dig into her lower lip.

I wait, curious to see what she’s going to say. With Selena, I never really know—and I’m finding I like that unknown.

“Can you . . . help me out?”

I almost say that I’ll help her with any fucking thing she wants, but I don’t. “With what?”

She bites her lower lip again and lets it slide between her teeth. “With, um, the plug?”

A small smile curves my lips. “You didn’t take it out in the shower?”

A short, jerky shake of her head is her only answer.

“And why’s that, Selena?”

Her gaze drops to the floor, which won’t do. Sliding back into the roles that we’ve carved out is easier for me than addressing the events of tonight, and maybe that’s exactly what it takes to bring back the Selena I’m already addicted to.

“Look at me when you answer me.”

A blush I’m becoming more and more familiar with stains her cheeks as she lifts her gaze to mine once more.

“I thought since . . . you know, you put it in, that you should be the one to, um, take it out.”

She’s perfect.

“Good girl. If you’d taken it out without my permission, I would’ve had to spank that pretty ass.”

I toss the covers aside, swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and stand. Her attention immediately falls to my dick. I don’t correct her, because I like her attention there. She’ll be paying it a whole hell of a lot more attention in a few minutes. But first . . .

“Turn around and bend over.”

Her blush turns from a luscious pink to a fiery red.

“Excuse me?”

“Do I need to repeat myself? Because if so, your ass is going to be as red as your cheeks, sweet girl.”

Her throat works as she swallows. I open my mouth to repeat my command, but she spins on her heel and bends over before I can get out the words.

My hand flexes with the need to smack that heart-shaped ass. I don’t want to confuse her, but I can’t resist. I pull back and deliver a stinging slap just under the curve of her right ass cheek. She inhales sharply and starts to rise, but my hand at the small of her back holds her in position.

“Don’t move.”

“But—but why?”

I crouch and trail my hand down the side of her body, stopping to cup her breast and roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.

“Because I can, Selena. Because your body belongs to me. And because you want it.”

A shiver races through her and her nipple stiffens further, confirming my words.

I release my hold on her nipple and drop my hand to the back of her calf. I rise slowly as I drag my palm up the back of her leg to her ass. I find the base of the plug with my thumb and press against it.

I’m rewarded with another harsh intake of breath.

“I’m taking it out, but a bigger one is going back in tomorrow. I don’t have a lot of patience, and I can’t wait much longer to fuck this gorgeous ass.” I pull the plug out by the base and fuck her with it a few times before withdrawing it completely.

I turn toward the bathroom, but pause to tell her, “Be on your knees when I come back out. I’m going to fuck your mouth before we go to bed.”

She shivers visibly. My dirty girl.

I take care of the plug in the bathroom and return to find her waiting on her knees . . . just missing the mark of obedient because her hand is between her legs, and her eyes are closed as she rides out an orgasm.

I watch—raptly—because Selena in the throes of climax is the hottest fucking sight on the goddamn planet. But my enjoyment in watching her doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy punishing her even more.

“Couldn’t wait for me, I see.”

Her eyes snap open, and if it’s possible, her cheeks turn even redder. “I . . . I needed—”

“You needed to wait and take what I give you. And since you’ve already gotten yourself off, I guess that means you don’t need me to eat that pretty pussy until you’re so drunk off the pleasure, you can’t move.”

Crestfallen. That’s the word that perfectly describes her expression.

“But—”

“Keep that mouth open, baby, because you’re about to take my cock down that gorgeous throat of yours.”

Her jaw drops, and I smile.

“Perfect.” I step toward her, cupping her chin and running a thumb along her lower lip. “Fucking perfect.”

My cock is straining up toward my navel, so I grip the base and bring it to her lips. Her tongue slips out and flicks the head.

“Grab my ass with both hands. I want you in position, and I don’t want you tempted to fuck yourself with your fingers.”

She complies, and I feed my cock into her mouth. She takes more than she did the last time, and I know this won’t last long. I bump the back of her throat, and she gags a little.

“Swallow me, baby. I want to feel your throat work me.”

Again, she complies, and I begin to thrust. In and out, reveling in the hot, wet heaven of her mouth. She takes me like a champ, her little moans sending out vibrations I can feel in my balls.

I have the primitive urge to mark her as mine. I feel my sac tighten, and I decide I’ll finish on her tits next time.

“Ready, baby?”

She nods, and her nails dig into the muscles of my ass. I fucking love it.

My orgasm shoots down from my spine, and she swallows every drop that I give her. She’s the perfect fucking woman. The perfect fucking wife.

I help her off her knees after I’m finished, and wipe the edges of her mouth with my thumb.

“You’re a fucking goddess, Selena.”

Her answering smile is shy as I back her toward the bed. When the back of her legs touch the mattress, she sits, and I drop to my knees.

“And it’s my turn to worship.”

And worship, I do. Until she’s come three times, and I can still feel the marks her nails left in my scalp as I settle into bed and wrap myself around her, tucking my once-again hard cock between her ass cheeks.

As I’m dozing off, one hand cupping a breast, I wonder if I’ll ever be sated with her.

Something about last night—the sushi, sitting on the table, telling Justin about my past and the intimacy we shared after—trips my brain into a whole new side of married life. I’m afraid to trust it, afraid to rely on it. Skepticism is one quality I’ve got in spades.

So when I open my eyes the next morning, expecting to see an empty space in the bed beside me and yet Justin is there, a tiny bit of that skepticism fades away. Maybe I am a little bit important to him. I thought for sure he’d be off running an empire right now, leaving me alone again at the earliest possible moment. His presence provides some hint of validation that I don’t want to admit needing.

As these thoughts roll through my brain, I realize it’s only the second time I’ve seen him asleep, the first being the early hours of Christmas morning. But that morning, I only chanced a glance at him before I hurriedly shoved all my stuff in my bag and tiptoed to the door. He was supposed to be nothing more than a way to forget that I’ll never share another Christmas Eve with Gran . . . and yet now he’s my husband.

Face relaxed in sleep, he looks younger than his thirty-three years. Without that blinding intensity and those piercing eyes focused on me, I’m able to study him at my leisure. Dynamic. Ruthless. Driven. Those are three words I’d use to describe him. Even in sleep, he’s probably dreaming about conquering something.

I know I should wonder about his motivations behind this whole marriage, but I find that I don’t care. Whatever it was that sent him on this wild hair, I should find it in me to be grateful. Otherwise, I’d be wearing another man’s ring and living an even bigger farce.

Glancing down at the ring on my finger, I realize that I like it there. Warmth creeps into my veins at the sense of belonging I feel.

Crap. I’m starting to get attached. Danger!

The terrifying realization is interrupted when Justin’s eyes flick open and his gaze lands on me.

“Are you watching me sleep?”

I decide to go with the truth. “Yes.”

His lips curve up, and I catch a flash of his white teeth. I think it’s a genuine smile, but they’re so rare for him, I have to actually think about it.

When he stretches his arms overhead and the sheet falls away, his washboard abs rippling, I forget about the smile completely. How can a man who sits at a desk all day look like that?

My mouth opens before I can engage my brain. “Do you leave your desk to climb buildings or something? Seriously, those aren’t desk-jockey abs.”

His smile shifts into the smirk I’ve become very familiar with as his gaze jumps to mine.

“You’re saying you actually like something about me?”

Justin’s eyebrow goes up, and I know he’s having fun with me, so I give it back to him.

“I’m saying I’d like those abs on any man, so I guess I’m lucky they’re yours.”

His eyes narrow at my words. “Any man?”

His tone is quiet and even more intimidating than normal. I have only that tone as the slightest warning before he rolls and reaches for me. My squeak of surprise fills the room as he draws me closer and pins me beneath him, one forearm on either side of my head.

“There are no other men when it comes to you, do you understand me, Selena? None. You belong to me.”

Whoa. Holy possessive alpha-male alert, Batman.

I push up on my elbows, bringing my lips within a breath of his. “As long as that means there aren’t any other women for you, then we have a deal.”

“You think you can bargain with me?” Every movement of his lips brushes them across mine.

“I’m sure going to try,” I reply, my daring knowing no limits this morning.

“Sassy girl. You know that just makes me want to teach you a lesson, right?” His tone is a low growl, and his lips continue to tease mine with the hint of a kiss.

Untangling one of my arms from beneath me, I reach up and bury my fingers in his dark hair. “Then what are you waiting for?”

His lips crash down against mine, and words cease to be necessary.

Justin leaves the penthouse to head to work around ten a.m., and when he promises that he’ll be back to get me by seven, I actually believe him. Maybe it’s the look in his eye when he left the bed that clearly said he didn’t want to leave me there alone. It’s like something finally clicked, and like a train, we’ve shifted onto a different track. One where maybe we can figure out how to coexist peacefully.

When I finally drag myself out of bed, I shower and breeze through my morning routine, dressing in some of the most casual of the new clothes in my closet. Glancing at the TV, I think about turning it on, but really don’t want to know if my marriage to this complicated man is still the top story.

Justin promised days ago that if I just trust him, he’ll take care of the press side of things, and I shouldn’t worry because it’s a pointless waste of energy. I decided he was right and just buried my head in the sand. If a billionaire can’t stop them from saying what they’re going to say, how can I? It’s wasted effort.

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corneliussteinbeck · 8 years ago

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GGS Spotlight: Kourtney Thomas

Name: Kourtney Thomas Age: 32 Location: St. Louis, MO

What does being a Girl Gone Strong mean to you? It means embracing strength in all aspects of life — even when that’s not the path of least resistance, which honestly, it rarely is.

To me, being a Girl Gone Strong is about finding who you are and then fully staying true to that, even through the tough times.Through physical strength, I’ve learned more about myself than I ever thought possible, and that has allowed me to find and stand in my power while creating a big, beautiful life for myself.

Being a Girl Gone Strong means I can be unafraid to be fully myself in this world.

How long have you been strength training, and how did you get started? I’ve been strength training about seven or so years now. I spent much of my life avoiding activity of any kind, to the point of skipping gym class in school. But shortly after moving in with my now-husband, he inspired me on my movement journey. I, believe it or not, got started with P90X! That was my first real taste of strength training beyond cardio dance DVDs or aerobics with three-pound weights. Completing that three-month program sparked my interest in other activities, and that’s how I got started running.

I was a dedicated endurance runner for about four or five years, with minimal strength training. I kept my strength basis with some yoga and weight circuits, but nothing heavy, and usually not more than 1 or two days per week. After four marathons in two years, I burned out and turned to heavier strength training.

I had found GGS and Jen Sinkler, so I started with Lift Weights Faster. I also dabbled in Get Stronger Faster, the accompanying strength program. That proved to be a bit serious for my tastes and abilities at the time, so I picked up Modern Woman’s Guide to Strength Training and completed the Level 4 program. It was perfect for me, and that sparked my interest.

I then completed the Advanced program of Strong Curves and started seeing huge results, both in my strength, and in my physique. I was totally hooked! After those 16 weeks, I hired a personal coach.

With a goal of packing on more muscle, I started down the path of specific hypertrophy training and bodybuilding style splits. I was so apprehensive at first, but quickly fell in love.

I saw more change in my physique than anything I had ever done, my strength was still coming up, and I was absolutely more physically well-rounded than ever before. To this day, that’s what I’m still doing, and that’s what I’m still loving.

What does your typical workout look like? Right now, I work out in bodybuilding style split workouts. Typically, two upper body and two lower body days per week, with push/pull emphases. I’ll go through phases though where I split further and add focus days like glutes, delts, or arms. (Arm day will always be my favorite!) I always get in a main lift – a version of squats, benches, and deadlifts – and follow it up with plenty of fun accessory work.

I also love to run, and cardiovascular health is really important to me, so I run one or two days per week, or do some kind of interval workout on the step mill, bike, or rower another couple of days.

Favorite Lift: Does “any kind of biceps curl” count as a lift?! Past that, I’d go with RDLs. I love a good hip hinge and some killer posterior chain work.

Most memorable PR: It happened just recently. I had taken about a six-month break from a program, and longer than that from any kind of low-rep strength training or testing. I was kind of flowing and experimenting with my training, working on the Bigness Project, and definitely sticking to hypertrophy and higher rep stuff. I decided I wanted a bit more direction again, and hired a new coach. She added a lower body strength day to my program, and the very first day I hit triples of my highest one-rep max squat weight ever! I hadn’t done that in over a year, and this felt easy. Like, astonishingly easy. I was just so pumped that, even though I wasn’t working specifically on strength, it clearly continued to build throughout the year with consistency in training and progressive overload.

Top 5 songs on your training playlist:

Cake by the Ocean – DNCE (I’m obsessed with cake, and I love the ocean, so yeah.)

Life Itself – Glass Animals

Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked – Cage the Elephant

Light It Up – Major Lazer

Say You’ll Be There – Spice Girls

Next 5:

Good Vibrations – Marky Mark & the Funky Bunch

My Trigger – Miike Snow

California Love – 2Pac

Dreams – Beck

Silvertongue – Young the Giant

I love music.

Three things you must have with you at the gym or in your gym bag:

Resistance bands – mini-band for glute work and full band for dislocates and pull-aparts

Training journal – pen and paper for me!

Ipod & headphones – I know it’s going to be a rough day of training if I have to listen to the gym music!

Do you prefer to train alone or with others? Why? I actually prefer to train alone. My gym time is time where I just get in the zone. I put on my headphones, tune everything out, and focus on my muscles. I’m big on the mind-muscle connection, honing in on effort and exertion, and being really connected to my workout. If I’m training with someone else, it’s fun, of course! But I find that it distracts me a little bit from the focus I like to have.

That said, I’m more open to running or cardio with others. I do like to run alone to connect with nature and let my mind wander a little, but there are also times when I like to have company for distraction.

Most embarrassing gym moment: Constantly fiddling around with bumper plates! I find them so cumbersome, even with the little bar jack thing! But really, I honestly don’t get embarrassed in the gym. Most people are just minding their own business, so I don’t even worry about it.

Best compliment you’ve received lately: I recently had to collect a series of testimonials from clients and peers. The responses that I received blew me away and brought tears to my eyes for two days straight. Without any prompting, it became apparent to me that I am affecting people’s lives in exactly the way I am intending to, and that was the absolute best compliment I could ever receive. My favorite example:

Kourtney is the type of woman that makes you feel stronger, more grounded and more capable simply by being in her presence. The strength I get from my workout plan has seeped into every single part of my life and a lot of that is due to the support, guidance and inspiration I’ve gotten from Kourtney. She’s showed me how to consistently show up at the gym… and, more importantly, in my day-to-day life, in a BIG, bold way.

Most recent compliment you gave someone else: “You are a (expletive) ferocious spirit!” I have cool friends, and sometimes we potty mouth together with complete mutual understanding.

Favorite meal: I joke that I love to live the #turkeysandwich life, but really, I do love sandwiches! My favorite fancy meal is a really high-quality, well-cooked pork chop with a perfect sear and delicious sides. Followed up with some kind of dark chocolate goodness for dessert!

Favorite way to treat yourself: Indulging in trash TV. I love TV. Like, way too much! Every time I travel, I stay up way too late watching stupid stuff on cable (we don’t have cable at our house anymore) and loving it – think Naked and Afraid, Duck Dynasty, My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding…

Favorite quote: “And though she be but little, she is fierce.” William Shakespeare (So much a favorite, it’s tattooed on my foot.)

Favorite book: I’m far more into fiction than nonfiction, so my top three right now are:

Lamb by Christopher Moore

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

A Salty Piece of Land by Jimmy Buffett

I also love anything political satire (think: Christopher Buckley) or science fiction/fantasy (The Martian, the Red Rising Trilogy, Divergent Trilogy, The Rook, Harry Potter, etc.).

And fitness specific, I love The New Encyclopedia of Modern Bodybuilding by Arnold, Strong by Lou Schuler and Alwyn Cosgrove, Daniels’ Running Formula by Jack Daniels, and Superflex by Cory Everson.

What inspires and motivates you? Cliché, maybe, but my tribe. I never really had one until about the last year or so, and opening up and connecting with so many amazing women inspires and motivates me daily. I spent a lot of time in my life competing with the women I now stand side by side with and encourage. It’s crazy how different it can be to admire them and see them as inspiration instead of competition, or as someone or something else I’m not stacking up to.

My friends, my husband, my clients, and all the women I don’t even know inspire and motivate me daily to continue doing what I’m doing and using my voice to create a bigger, better space for all of us.

What do you do? I’m a personal trainer and coach. I do most of my work online through virtual coaching, and focus on training for bigness – physically, emotionally, and mentally. My tagline is Become the Boss of Your Body™: Watch Your Life Take Shape™ for a reason. When you determine what you want for yourself physically and find comfort and confidence in your own skin, it changes far more than the shape of your body. It changes your life.

What else do you do? I love to ride my motorcycle when the weather is good! I ride a Harley-Davidson Softail Deluxe, and her name is Alexandra. Nothing makes me feel more powerful and free than riding.

My husband and I also like to go camping and hiking. We enjoy traveling to both new and familiar places, and always keep New Orleans on our list each year.

I love to read, hence the long answer for favorite books above.

I honestly really do love movement, so I love going to the gym and bro-ing out. It’s like my second home because I find it so fun.

Describe a typical day in your life, from waking up to bedtime: I get up at 6am. I head into the dining room where I keep my phone, clear off all my notifications, and take my resting heart rate. Then I head into my office to start working for the day. That usually starts with coaching in my Facebook coaching group and returning client emails.

Most mornings I then go to a client session or two. Then I come back home and work on client programming or write for several hours, with a lunch break mixed in somewhere. Sometimes, I have to attend to the business stuff like catching up on Quickbooks, or I’ll have a new client meeting.

Late afternoon, I close up shop and head to the gym for an hour or two. When I get home from the gym, my husband and I cook and eat dinner, watch an hour or two of TV, then shower and head to bed. Usually TV off by 9pm and lights out by 10pm.

Your next training goal: Uh, bigger arms. Always bigger arms.

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What are you most grateful for? This life! I am grateful for everything, big and small, every single day.

But I’m the most grateful for my husband, my best friend and partner in this crazy life who supports me in everything I want to do. And also puts up with all of my weirdness!

What life accomplishment are you most proud of? I’m pretty proud I started my own business and it’s actually become successful.

I was always someone who was perfectly happy working for someone else, not wanting to shoulder the responsibility of making big-time decisions for my livelihood – or so I thought.

Turns out, the opposite is true, and I am much happier and more successful working for myself.

Being an entrepreneur is not without daily struggles, but every one of them is worth it. I own the decisions and the struggles, I own the triumphs.

I’m also incredibly proud of riding my motorcycle to Sturgis and back. It was a crazy ride, several thousand miles, and it was a huge accomplishment, mentally and physically.

Which three words best describe you? Thoughtful, Forthright (this is a much better word than “doesn’t-put-up-with-bullshit!”), Supportive

What’s a risk you’ve taken recently, and how did it turn out? Going to the Radiance Retreat this year was a big risk for me. It was a big investment, it was totally intimidating, and it was very much outside my comfort zone. My entire life, I’ve struggled with female relationships, and this was basically jumping into one huge female relationship! But it changed my life. Taking that risk of attending an event that was really scary for me turned out better than I could have ever imagined. Not only did I get a return on my investment picking up business knowledge, I forged friendships – like, actual, true, deep friendships, and quickly! – and that was well worth the anxiety leading up to the trip and the price of admission.

Beyond that, it opened doors for me because it pushed me over the hump with similar things. Since the Retreat in May, I’ve done more things that brought up old fears or self-doubt with much more ease, and that has enhanced my life exponentially. It’s been a big year for growth, and it started with taking that risk.

What’s the coolest “side effect” you’ve noticed from strength training? Finding more and different common ground with new people. I get a lot of questions that often start with, “Wow, I love your arms!” and often they’re with genuine interest. Then, it’s fun to have a little chat about the gym and give people a quick little motivational boost for whatever they’re trying to accomplish. It’s been fun to connect with other lifters and fitness professionals to nerd out about lifting too.

How has lifting weights changed your life? Do you have like five minutes for me to talk your ear off? How has it not changed my life? Lifting weights, in all its different varieties, has opened up my life beyond what I ever thought possible.

Not only has lifting weights made me physically stronger, but it has made me so much stronger mentally and emotionally. Learning how to work through physical stress only increases your tools for being able to deal with other stress in life.

Taking control of my choices in the weight room and for my body allows me to take control of choices in the rest of my life.

Lifting has changed my physique beyond what I ever thought possible – especially when I started training specifically for hypertrophy. I’ve packed on muscle, completely changed my shape, and embraced my body fully from head to toe, which I wasn’t sure was possible. Some days are better than others, because hello, I’m human, but more than ever, I am truly happy with how I look – because I’m happy with how I feel. I’m bigger and heavier than I’ve ever been before, but lifting weights has completely changed my relationship with what that means. I want to be bigger. Because I want to be more.

And because of lifting, my confidence has shot to the moon, and that has spilled into every aspect of my life. If it weren’t for my journey in lifting, I never would have met some of the best friends I have now. I never would have connected with the GGS family. I never would have bonded with Jen over a fire one night to talk about how we could bring this feeling to as many women as possible.

I’m so fortunate that lifting weights has literally become my business. Before I started lifting seriously, lifting heavy, I didn’t have a lot of direction. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do or could do, and for whom. But when I found my place in strength and size, I found my conviction, my voice, and exactly how I wanted to show up in this world personally and professionally.

Lifting weights has forever changed my body, my mind, and my spirit, more than anything I’ve ever done. There is a reason why my favorite hashtag is #bigarmsbiglife:

Tapping into your strength and size under the iron translates to the freedom to create much bigger world for yourself.

Speaking of confidence boosts… I stink at clothes. Clothes are so hard! I don’t think I’m alone there either – it’s not an inherent ability to look like a Pinterest pin every day. It was always something very frustrating for me. So, last year I worked with a wardrobe stylist to completely revamp my wardrobe. We cleaned my closet of everything that either didn’t fit me or wasn’t a good style fit for me. Then, we discussed what made me feel good, shopped for it, and styled it. Besides lifting weights, this has been one of the best things I’ve ever done! It takes such a weight off every day to know what to wear and how to wear it. I have always felt pretty good about my body, but now I feel 100 percent confident walking out the door because I feel good about my clothes, too. I think people underestimate the importance of feeling good about your clothes, and I can’t suggest working with a stylist enough—it’s just like hiring a personal trainer!

I read The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up, which helped me to get rid of a lot of stuff I didn’t need, and also helped me not to just replace it with other new stuff. I pretty much use a loose capsule wardrobe at this point, which now includes a lot of accessories, including scarves. I always wanted to wear scarves, so it was one of the first things I told her I wanted to work on. I also used to stink at scarves, so this is a video we took to help me figure it out, haha! I love it because you can see my face, like, “WTF, stupid scarf!” And then I’m like, “Whew, OK! Finally! I can do this!”

youtube

What do you want to say to other women who might be nervous or hesitant about strength training? Please, give it a try. It doesn’t have to look like what it looks like on someone else. Social media is great, but it’s also really tough these days. You can sign onto Instagram and see super-jacked women crushing a barbell, or super-strong women talking about how they only squatted 275 – among about a million other comparisons – and it becomes completely overwhelming. There are days that even other Girls Gone Strong make me feel down on myself!

But it’s not about that. It’s not about competition or trying to beat anyone or anything, including yourself or “who you were yesterday.” Strength training is named aptly – it will help you find the strength you didn’t even know you needed or wanted, if you’ll open yourself up to it. And there are so many different ways to train! From conditioning circuits to powerlifting and everything in between, there are a million things to try until you find your match.

And I know the actual gym can be scary, especially if you were never an athlete. And I get that, because I wasn’t one. I remember having butterflies in my stomach the entire first week I started going. But you have options – start with a basic program (GGS has great resources!), hire a coach, even if it’s for only a few sessions to get some confidence with basic movements, or start at home! Be patient – stick to your program for the full, prescribed amount of time! – and just watch. Be open to the possibilities.

Discern the BS. The weight loss industry is still feeding us lies. The science and evidence tell us that strength training is actually the best way to reach many of our common goals – not to mention it provides us with a cornucopia of physical and mental health benefits.

One step at a time. One workout at a time. One day at a time. Try it. Experiment. Stick with it. Find out what Girls Gone Strong means to you!

Connect with Kourtney on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and on Snapchat: kthomasfitness.

Feeling inspired?

If you’re inspired by Kourtney, read on to learn more about—and join!—our community of strong, supportive women…

The post GGS Spotlight: Kourtney Thomas appeared first on Girls Gone Strong.

from Blogger http://corneliussteinbeck.blogspot.com/2017/02/ggs-spotlight-kourtney-thomas.html

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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don't make me wait another day, chapter 3: good as hell (kamasia) - holtzmanns, writworm42

A/N: Last chapter, Kameron and Asia continued their flirtation over text and agreed to have another session. This chapter, Kameron prepares for their second session before being Very Distracted in it. Thank you Bean for beta-ing, we love you!!!

Title from Good as Hell by Lizzo

The week creeps by far too slowly for Kameron��s liking. It doesn’t matter how many clients she sees, how many hours she clocks, how many appointments or errands or other things she fills her personal time with. By Monday, everything starts to meld together, a blob of meaningless, tedious chores.

Well. A blob of meaningless, tedious chores, except for one small detail.

On Thursday, at 3 p.m. on the dot, she’s going to see Asia again.

“That’s all very romantic,” Kameron’s coworker, A’keria, interrupts her story with a roll of her eyes, “but if you tell me how sick you are of waiting for Thursday one more time, imma have to go drown myself in the pool.”

“Oh, leave her alone, Kiki!” Another of Kameron’s friends, Vanessa, pipes up from her place at the front desk. “You just bitter ‘cause you ain’t got no man.”

“Please, bitch, you ain’t any better than miss Kam over here. Where’s Brooke Lynn, anyway, you finally separated her from your clingy ass?” A’keria grunts, glaring daggers at Vanessa as the other woman blushes deeply.

“She’s cleaning the pool,” Vanessa grumbles under her breath.

“Excellent, so she drownin’ herself already, too.”

“You’re both the worst.” Kameron grumps before a gym member comes by to ask Vanessa a question, breaking up their conversation. It’s not that she doesn’t think she’s being annoying–she knows she is, she’d probably be fed up too if she had to listen to herself. But at the same time, she can’t help it.

Asia O’Hara, the gorgeous woman with the white teeth and the amazing sense of humour, is going to be spending time with her again in less than a week. In just a few days, she’s going to be spending a whole hour with her.

A lot can happen in an hour.

Her phone buzzes beside her, interrupting her thoughts. Before she can grab it, though, a long, pale hand swipes it up for her.

“Oooh, Asia again?” Brooke grins, waggling her eyebrows over the top of Kameron’s phone. “You guys text a lot for girls who’ve just met.”

“Give me my phone back.” Kameron snatches it away from her hands, furiously keying in her password as Brooke snickers fucking lesbians under her breath. “And go fist Vanessa while you’re at it.”

She looks up her phone just in time to see Brooke thrust her fist in the air as she walks away.

A: Say, I was thinking…

K: Yeah, I do that a lot too

Kameron smiles to herself as she sends that text off, hoping that as cheesy as it is, it’ll make Asia laugh.

A: BITCH

Mission accomplished. Before she can enjoy the moment though, three dots pop up on the screen, and her heart stops for a moment.

A: Seriously. I was thinking

A: I probs need new workout gear. I don’t have much.

A: Just a sports bra and some shorts maybe

A: I want something with good support tho.

Kameron’s throat goes dry, all thoughts in her mind suddenly scattered like ping pong balls. Asia’s flirting with her. This is a clear, blatant display of trying to turn Kameron on, trying to get her to imagine Asia in tight spandex shorts and a sports bra that puts just a little cleavage on display. Isn’t it?

Kameron is Asia’s personal trainer, and she’s texted Kameron for advice on things like how to do a particular home exercise in the past. Maybe she only wants a recommendation of where to buy new clothes, that’s a possibility too, and there could be no flirtation at all-

“Bitch, she’s flirting with you.” Vanessa’s scratchy voice over her shoulder makes Kameron jump. She’s about to chew Vanessa out for reading her screen when another text comes through, and Vanessa smiles wickedly as they both turn to look at what it says.

A: How d’you feel about something like this?

The attached picture nearly makes Kameron’s mouth go dry. It’s a mirror shot, Asia twisted slightly to the side. Maroon leggings hug Asia’s ass perfectly, and she really doesn’t even need to do the crap ton of squats that Kameron always forces on her clients.

Asia has one of those body types that’s naturally muscular, naturally defined, the kind that usually makes Kameron grumble out of jealousy because she has to actually work for her own. Asia, though, with the slight indentation of abs that peek out above her high waisted shorts, makes Kameron feel more lightheaded than anything else. Asia’s matching bra crisscrosses over her shoulder blades, tracing around the muscles of her back and framing her breasts in a way that makes Kameron dizzy, her eyes moving frantically to pick a spot to focus on first ( how is she supposed to pick a spot to focus on first?).

And if there’s any doubt that Asia knows exactly what she’s doing, another text follows up, one that’s almost mocking in its blatancy.

A: So you think these will have enough support?

Kameron lets out a laugh in disbelief, because Asia’s really trying to kill her, she is, and having a grand old time while doing so.

Though two can play at this game.

K: Mm, tough to say. We’ll have to test that out together, won’t we?

There’s no response for a moment, enough time for Kameron to come dangerously close to spiralling, wondering if she’s said too much, too soon.

“Still texting her?” Brooke taps her fingers on the other side of the counter and Kameron jumps, nearly dropping her phone in the process.

“Nope! Nope. Why do you guys care so much, anyway?” So what if she’s texting Asia? Especially if she hasn’t replied. Why hasn’t she replied yet-

Bzz.

“Bitch, look at this!” Kameron is pulled back sharply as Vanessa materializes behind her, grabbing onto her shoulder for support as she cranes up on her tiptoes to peek at the text message that pops up on her screen.

A: can’t wait to see how you like them in action ;)

“Damn, I know you’re lesbians, but y’all move fast!” Vanessa’s voice is gleeful as she dances around to the other side of the counter, leaning against Brooke’s side and beaming when she wraps an arm around her.

“Your girlfriend is literally beside you right now.” Kameron points between the two of them.

Vanessa flips her ponytail over her shoulder. “And?”

Kameron rolls her eyes, turning away from the others with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t have to be here, I got a session to get to.”

“At two-thirty? Huh, A’keria, did you know we were doin’ sessions on the half-hour now?”

“Hm, you know, that’s funny, ‘cause I’m lookin’ at the schedule right now, and Kam doesn’t even have anything until four…”

“Prep time!” Kameron fires back over her shoulder and flips the others off as she hurries away, but she’s unable to keep the smile off her face as she goes.

____

Kameron spends a bit longer than necessary choosing her outfit on Thursday morning. Sure, the muscle tee she goes for shows off her arms, though she’s most definitely not wearing it for a specific reason, nor is she wearing the spandex shorts to get a certain someone’s attention.

Most definitely not.

Lo and behold, Asia is wearing the sports bra and leggings from the picture that she had sent earlier in the week, the one that feels like it’s branded onto Kameron’s eyelids because she can’t stop thinking about it. Kameron can feel herself swallow hard while she tries to keep her eyes up, waving at Asia as she walks in and drops her duffle bag on the counter.

“Hey, Kam.” Asia’s voice is sugary sweet and the toss of her ponytail over her shoulder would almost make Kameron laugh, if it wasn’t fucking hot at the same time.

“Hey.” Kameron can’t help the slight curve of her lip. She’s been looking forward to this hour more than she wants to admit. “Ready for me to kick your ass in the gym again?”

“ Bitch, first of all, I’m fit as hell-”

“That you are.”

“-and - wait, hey .” Asia pokes Kameron’s side. “Second of all, you really should kick my ass outside of the gym. I mean, what?”

Asia spins on her heels and walks to drop her duffle bag in the change room before Kameron even processes what she says, her mouth dropping open when she sees the way that Asia winks at her before disappearing behind the door.

Kameron wants to take it back. She’s not ready for the mini heart attack that Asia will mostly likely be responsible for causing.

Asia returns and Kameron rolls out her shoulders, gathering her thoughts because she is at work, and Asia is her client, and she can’t exactly do anything stupid while on the clock, no matter how much she wants to. And no matter how much Asia is hinting that she wants the same.

That can wait. Kameron’s patient.

Kameron tries to keep her cool as Asia starts her warm up, running through the exercises that she’s going to take Asia through in her head. They’re things that she’s done a million times with clients, but with Asia, it feels different - Kameron really wants to impress her, get her to come back. Catch her interest.

Asia wipes the sweat from her brow as she rises from her last burpee, panting. “I will never, ever forgive you for making me do these. Never. It’s been two minutes and my legs are already jelly.”

Kameron passes Asia her water bottle, her eyes trailing along the curve of Asia’s jawline as she grabs a drink. “That was only our first exercise.”

Asia groans. “Remind me why I come to your sadistic ass for personal training again?”

“A part of you enjoys it, I can tell.” Kameron grins. It’s unfair, really, that Asia still looks good after breaking a sweat.

“Pfft.” Asia grumbles underneath her breath as she tucks a stray later behind her ear. “As if.”

“Admit it, you do.”

“Make me.” Asia grins at her with a wicked gleam in her eyes, her tongue peeking between her lips which is distracting enough to make Kameron’s eyes flit downwards.

“Okay.” Kameron smirks, noticing Asia’s slight raise of her eyebrows. “Let’s do five more burpee reps then. C’mon.”

“Bitch.”

Kameron’s proud of herself, really, for staying professional throughout their warmup and the beginning of when Asia begins lifting. At least, until she has to spot Asia.

Her fingertips ghost along Asia’s bare sides, along the small strip of midriff showing between her sports bra and the top of her leggings. Kameron can see the goosebumps rising along Asia’s skin as she shifts her hands to support her back. It’s a contrast from the way that they’re sweating underneath the almost suffocating heat of the gym, the stuffiness not quite overbearing enough to keep Kameron from feeling a shiver run through her system.

“Next one, I’m going to have you squat while holding the bar above your head.” Kameron lifts the bar, handing it to Asia who grunts.

“No extra weights on it?” Asia lifts the bar up above her head, arms beginning to tremble, and Kameron snorts as she lifts her own hands up to the bar to stabilize Asia’s grip.

“Gotta start with just the bar first. It weighs fifteen pounds on its own.” Kameron brings her hands down slowly as Asia’s grip on the bar becomes stronger.

“Fifteen? Damn, I don’t want anymore weights on top of this.”

“Now squat with it.” Kameron has to hold in a laugh when Asia makes a face of disbelief.

“Bend my legs? While holding this shit? I’m not going to be able to get back up.” Asia huffs, her grip tightening on the bar.

“Just try. If you get stuck, I’ll help you get back up.” Kameron can’t help herself, really, from the wink that she sends in Asia’s direction. Especially because it makes Asia blush, before she lets out a scoff.

“You will, huh?”

“I’m very supportive.”

“Yeah, I bet you are.”

Kameron’s not sure if she’s imagining the way that Asia’s glance flits from her eyes down to her lips, then back up, the way that her tongue peeks out from between her lips. She distracts herself from the fact that all she wants to do is lean in, kiss Asia, maybe bite on her lower lip and see if it makes her moan because-

She’s still at work.

So she takes a step back, coming to stand behind Asia before she starts her reps. Her hands hover near the bar without quite touching, should Asia need the support. Asia’s warm in front of her, the beads of sweat dripping down the back of her neck showing the effort that she’s putting in to keep bar up, along with her shaky hands.

By the time the session is over, Kameron’s absolutely twitching. It doesn’t help, really, when they finish and high five and Asia takes the opportunity to lean on Kameron, an elbow on her shoulder. Asia’s wiping the sweat from her brow, the muscles of her taut stomach lightly shifting as she breathes, and somehow it’s fucking hot. Kameron’s parched, and it’s not for water.

“So, do I get a reward or something for surviving that session?” Asia tilts her head as she looks over, the gleam in her eyes making Kameron’s mind travel a million miles an hour.

“Depends on what what you want.” Kameron doesn’t miss a beat, doesn’t hide the way that she slowly drags her eyes from Asia’s face down her frame, knowing that Asia’s watching.

“You should come and find out.” Asia lifts her elbow from Kameron’s shoulder, turning on her heels to flounce towards the changing rooms, the very ones where Kameron knows there are rows and rows of showers.

The wink that Asia throws at her before letting the door swing closed behind her is enough to get her to follow, after dropping her clipboard behind the front desk without a second thought.

Good thing Asia’s her last client for the day.

#rpdr fanfiction #kameron michaels #asia o'hara #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #akeria davenport #asia x kameron #lesbian au #fluff #dont make me wait another day #holtzmanns #writworm42

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