#marathon? already started and we’re the first mile

[sassmill]

I hate this fucking puppet

[bunniandhoney]

Angst | He doesn’t realize what he has until it’s gone, fast-forward he sees her back at the premiere

P.s Just for fun , Idk how he is Irl he is a sweetheart tho

Dear Anon,

How did you know I love angst? 😏

xoxo,

Bunni

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Life’s a Marathon

Jacob takes his best friend for granted.

Y/N found herself in the most awkward predicaments. Never by her own design but certainly by the construction of her best friend Jacob.

“I think i might’ve fucked up” Jacob says looking down at Y/N as she ties her shoes. “I think I’m going to have to agree, neither one of us should be running a marathon this early or really at all.” YN replies with a grim look on her face.

She definitely shouldn’t have agreed to this. She hates sweating and gets her daily exercise from the 25 minute walk from her apartment to her office job. But since she has a burning crush on her best friend she has such a hard time telling Jacob no, actually she’s never fully told Jacob no.

Like that time in Year 10 when he’d ask her to help with his final paper. Even though she was behind on hers and working extra shifts at the cafe she still did his, resulting in her earning a C+ on her paper and an A on his. Or when she told him she just wanted a relaxing night in for her 18th, but Jacob insisted on hitting up every pub in the city. She then spent the last moments of her 18th birthday rubbing Jacob’s back as he emptied his guts in the toilet. This is what best friends do though, they sacrifice, they care, and apparently they run marathons with zero training.

Finally on her feet Jacob pulls her in by her shoulders. “ Quick let’s take a selfie to remember this moment”, with wide grins facing his phone Jacob takes the picture.

“Will all runners please make their way to the starting line” the announcer says.

YN is starting to feel sick. “ You know I can always wait for you at the checkpoints and cheer”

“Yeah but where would the fun be in that? Besides you can’t leave me now, we’re at the starting line.” Dragging her feet YN follows an excited Jacob to the starting line with the rest of the runners.

The sound of the gun signals the runners to start, and they’re off…well Jacob is. YN is already at the back of the pack within 60 seconds of the race starting and her best friend is nowhere to be found.

When she finally finishes the first mile, she’s slightly winded but not awful, the second clearly wears her down though because she’s practically walking. Huffing and puffing she tries to pick her pace back up as she sees the finish line. She sees Jacob at the end cheering for her, or at least that’s what she thinks because her vision seems a little blurry and black dots are spotting her vision. Yn is almost there, almost at the end when everything goes dark.

People are laughing at her. YN can hear it as she comes to; wait is that Jacob laughing at her? Blinking her eyes open she does see him laughing but it’s joined by a woman’s laugh, a very pretty woman now that her vision is clearing up.

“Jac—“ the rasp coming from her voice is unrecognizable, but does the trick because Jacob looks down at her.

“You’re awake!” says the pretty lady on her other side.

“I’m Dr. Sams, I was the medic on the scene when you passed out. Can you tell me your name?”

—

Sitting under a cooling tent with ice packs on most of her body and being forced to chug down gatorade is probably top 5 most embarrassing moments especially since the only other person under there is a 65 year old man who threw out his knee, and said he felt too hot under the medic tent. “It’s alright doll, my first race wasn’t sunshine and rainbows either, " he says with a grin.

“Dr. Sams said you’re clear if you’re ready to go. Should probably take you home to rest.” Jacob says helping YN up. The car ride back to her apartment is dead silent besides the loud tension between Jacob’s guilt and YN's embarrassment. When he pulls into her garage Jacob decides to break the ice. “Look i’m really sorry love, you were right the marathon was not a good idea. I’m sure dehydration was not in your weekend plans.”

A sympathetic smile, the same one she always gives when Jacob screws up, graces her face. “It’s not your fault I’m an adult, and should’ve known that I was feeling way too bad to continue.”

Walking up to YN’s apartment Jacob can’t help but to be apologetic still. Laying YN on the couch and getting her a bottle of water from the fridge Jacob, trying to ease any leftover tension yells, "Well at least something good came from today?”

And honestly nothing is coming to YN’s mind, in fact, today was about as horrible as it could get for her.

She was spontaneously woken up at the crack of dawn.

The “Big Suprise” her best friend/crush for her was a damn marathon

She had to run a marathon

And lastly, she passed out in front of hundreds of people including Jacob. Yeah, there couldn’t possibly be anything good.

“The cute medic that was helping you, well we were chatting so I’m taking her out tonight!”

Mentally adding this to the list of horrible things happening today YN groans, “My head is pounding, what did you say?”

“I’ve got a date with a hot doctor babe!” he yells back gleefully.

YM closes her eyes silently hoping that what’s happening is that she’s in a dream and when she wakes up it’ll be noon, she will just now be getting up, and planning to spend the whole day in a big Tshirt (no pants of course). But when she peeks open one of her eyes she sees her best friend walking back with a glass of orange juice and some painkillers. “ Here you go, Dr. Sams said this might help with any aches or fatigue.”

Nope, not a dream, but a terrible nightmare.

Jacob finally heads out, claiming he needs to prepare for his date, leaving YN alone and feeling incredibly achey. In the 15 years she’s known Jacob he has only had a girlfriend twice.

Once in Year 9, Elizabeth Brown, ended up being on the receiving end of Jacob’s turn of a horrid “Spin the Bottle” game. Elizabeth claimed Jacob was the best kisser in the world and deemed him her boyfriend. Which to her point was very true as YN and Jacob had been practicing for years at that point. Jacob beaming with pride accepted the title for approximately 17 days before he claimed she was way too clingy and broke it off.

The next was years later in university when he dated Sasha Davies for TWO whole years. YN just knew she’d lost him. But Sasha was quite rude and incredibly judgey, so when she found out that Jacob passed up a regular job for acting, she dumped him, leaving YN to pick up the pieces. Since then Jacob had sworn off dating until he was settled in his career as a full time actor, claiming that YN and his mum were the only women he needed in his life.

So why on earth are things changing now! She thought she was all he needed, even if nothing went further than friendship. YN is not near spiteful enough to ruin a relationship, so for now she’ll just sit back and see if anything comes of this one date.

—

Unfortunately, everything comes from one date, because it turns into two and three. Then eventually Yvanne (Dr. Sams) and Jacob are practicing living together in a matter of months. It’s not that Jacob ignores YN, no, he tries to include her in almost everything the couple does. He even tries to do a weekly coffee date with YN just to check in on her, but YN can’t do it. She can’t watch him kiss and hug another woman, buy her odd but sentimental gifts, or even open the bloody car door for someone else. She can’t watch him be in love with anyone else while her heart still craves him.

So she pulls away, just slightly so he doesn’t notice. Her plan is working beautifully since Jacob is enamored with Yvanne. It simply looks as if she wants him to spend more time with his girlfriend. Well, it was working beautifully until Jacob drops an absolute bomb on her during one of their coffee dates.

“You’re going to do what!?!?! “ she screeches in the corner booth, causing too many eyes to look their way.

“Woah calm down. Look I’m going off to shoot the movie and want Yvanne to know I’m serious; that I’m in this for the long haul, for forever.”

“I think there are other ways to show you’re serious than marrying her. For fucks sake J you all haven’t been together a whole year yet!” YN fumes.

“It’ll be a longish engagement, and honestly I thought you’d be happier for me. You’re my best friend in the whole world, I haven’t even told my mum this yet.” He replies diffendently.

Now YN sees it, she sees him slipping away. It’s clear that as always, Jacob has made up his mind and in turn has decided both of their fates for them.

“You’re right, it just caught me by suprise. I’m so happy for you”

“Really”

“Of course, J, you know I just want you to be happy, you’re my best friend.” YN rewards him with a suffering smile.

For three weeks after the news YN goes completely ghost. Every call and text Jacob attempts to make goes unanswered, but she can’t do it. She can’t watch this happen or pretend to be okay, even when she thought she could. Jacob stops by her apartment at the end of week three to check on her since she’d clearly been avoiding him. But when he reaches under the ficus pot outside her apartment door he realizes it’s gone. YN had taken the key and moved it. This officially sends Jacob into a rage because that key was reserved for him, now he’s banging on her door yelling for her to “Let me in because I know you’re in there!”

A puffy-eyed YN opens the door just as Jacob raises his fist again. She’s been crying, she can’t stop, not since the day she left that cafe. “Hey J, what’s going on?”

“You’ve been ignoring me!” he says stepping into her apartment, which is shockingly a mess. She’s always been a bit of a neat freak, cleaning up everyone’s mess all the time. “You’ve been ignoring me, and you’ve been crying.”

“Oh. I’m fin—“

“Please don’t do that shit with me. The pretending, because I know you better than anyone in this world so come off it!”

For some reason this pisses YN off to a degree she’s never known before.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, Jacob Scipio! How dare you come banging on MY door expecting anything from me, you, you selfish bastard!”

Eyebrows raised in shock Jacob uses his silence as a reply.

With tears starting to roll down her face YN cries, “ I have spent years following behind you, trying to make sure nothing ever inconveniences you. Making sure that Jacob is happy, that he’s in perfect health, that he’s got his lines down packed, and not because I wanted something in return but because I cared for you. Hell, I loved you Jacob. Then you expect me to jump for joy when you want to propose to a girl you’ve known for 9 months! So, no Jacob, you don’t know me!”

“YN, I’m so—“

“Please don’t apologize, just leave, I want to be alone.”

His head hung low Jacob turns to walk back out of her apartment. “Umm, I wanted to give you this. I hope you can make it.” he says sitting an envelope on her coffee table. When Jacob walks out that door YN expects to never see her best friend again and she crumbles to the floor letting the tears wrack through her body.

1 ½ year later —

Jacob would like to say that he couldn’t be happier. At the premier of one of the biggest movies of his life, he should be overjoyed. And don’t get him wrong, he's extremely happy and grateful. He’s a trending topic, he has his amazing cast mates, and his extremely supportive family here with him. But the one person he’s hoped to see is nowhere to be found.

When he’d left that save the date on her coffee table a year and a half ago he knew that wouldn’t solve whatever issues they had, so he had his mother send her an official invitation through the mail three months ago. Even though YN wanted nothing to do with Jacob, their lives couldn’t help but to be intertwined, they’d known each other for over half their lives.

This separation had been hell for him, as he knew it would be as soon as he left her apartment that day. He cut things off with Yvanne two days later, unable to proceed with the engagement. He spent the rest of the time thinking about how right YN was, he was a selfish bastard. Almost her whole life has been spent accommodating him and so he vowed that if he ever got the chance he would do right by his best friend.

But he couldn’t do that because for the past 550 days he hasn’t so much as heard her voice let alone seen her, and while he hopes she would show up tonight for his premiere, he also knows that it’s a long shot; a consequence of hurting the people who love you.

Jacob takes one last look as he walks into the already packed theater. Sitting next to his mom Jacob relaxes into his seat and just before the lights go down he hears a breathless “Sorry I’m late, this LA traffic is awful!”

There she is, on day 551, the only person he cared to see, his very reason for being and she sits next to him filling his lungs with fresh air and her jasmine scented perfume. “You came.”

“Well of course, I couldn’t miss you on the big screen. Plus both of our mothers threatened me.” YN says with a bright smile.

She’s different, they both are, and they can only hope that fate hasn’t given up on them yet.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

thanks again for letting me write this for you, i had so much fun!

IDK, I’m kinda feeling a part 2 in my spirit, so lmk if that something y’all would be interested in!

also thanks for all the love on my other posts, i’m still taking requests so let them free!!!

[orchidniins]

Serendipitous Beginnings Pt. 1 | Arthur Frederick

Summary: Y/N moves to London to pursue her dreams and reconnect with her best friend But what she doesn't expect is a cute neighbor and a new exciting chapter of her life. Pairings: ArthurTV x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 6.4k A/N: FIRST FIC!!!!!! I’m so down bad for Arthur and just wish there was more on tumblr about this literal walking green flag of a man. I wanted this to be a cute little fic. But I feel like I got a little carried away with the story. But I also think that I need to start somewhere. Maybe the next fics I write after this will be a little more to the point. The more I write, the better I’ll get. I'm always open to suggestions and requests. Hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist ⟡ Part 2

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The bustling streets of London welcome you as you step out of the taxi. Having grown up in a small town just outside of London, you’d always fantasized about what life in the big city was like. Sure, your past academic pursuits had given you the opportunity to live all across the world, but London was always the ultimate destination - the place you dreamed of settling down in.

Securing a spot in the archeology PHD program of your dreams was the culmination of years of hardwork and determination. Those late-night study sessions, caffeine-fueled cramming marathons and years spent away from home were finally paying off. It marked the beginning of an exciting new chapter.

Like clockwork, Sienna bursts out of the main entrance of the building and engulfs you in a bone-crushing hug.

Sienna and you went way back. From the eager little girl who lived next door to becoming your closest confidante, she’d been through everything with you. Despite the miles between you over the years – ever since you left for the States to pursue your bachelor's degree and she moved to London for her’s – she remained one of the few constants in your life.

Your day wasn’t complete without a minimum three-hour facetime session. So naturally, after your family, she was the first person you informed of your move. True to form, she’d already cleaned out her spare bedroom and sent you a photo of the door adorned with a makeshift sign that read "Y/N’s Bedroom." It was safe to say that you were excited to reconnect with your childhood best friend and focus on your work. Little did you know, your life was about to take an unexpected turn.

“I can’t believe you're finally here!”, Sienna exclaimed, finally letting you out of her embrace. “I can’t believe it either! I’d started to believe that you only existed on my phone screen”, you replied, pulling her into another hug, which she gladly returned.

“Come on now, we have much to catch up on”, pulling out of the embrace, Sienna grabs one of your oversized suitcases and starts lugging it into the building, you follow closely with a huge grin on your face.

As you entered the apartment, you couldn't help but admire the cozy atmosphere. Sienna always had an eclectic taste, much like yours. She was a bit of a collector and she always made sure to keep and display the souvenirs you sent her from all the museums and dig sites that you had visited and worked at.

You look to the side of the living room that was littered with boxes, “All your stuff got here a few days ago”, Sienna informs you as she shuts the door behind her.

“There should be one or two boxes coming in today that I shipped out a little later”, I mentioned, Sienna nods in understanding. “While we’re on the topic of shipping boxes, have you had a chance to send that cretin’s stuff back to him?” you ask her as you kick off your shoes and take your coat off.

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about Joey,” Sienna groaned. “He said he’d come by to pick his stuff up later, so I’ve just left a box by the door”, she added, plopping down on the couch and signaling for you to join her. ”But what I really want to know is, how’s your love life? What happened to that guy you were talking to last month? The one from your internship?”, she asks, a curious glint in her eyes.

“Hmmm, yeah, things didn’t work out”, you drawled out. “He was really nice when it was just the two of us, and he wasn’t too bad in bed either, but once we were at our work, things got weird. He’d treat me completely different. Honestly he was a real prick," you explained, throwing an arm around her. "No more guys for me. I guess it’s just you and me, babe," you sighed, earning a laugh from her.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

The next hour or two passed in unpacking and catching up when you received a notification on your phone saying a package had been dropped off at the downstairs lobby. "The rest of my stuff just got delivered. I’m heading downstairs," you announced to Sienna, who had just ventured into the kitchen to get dinner started.

You spot the box as soon as you exit the elevator. You sign for the package at the front desk and pick up the heavy box. Perhaps thinking you could manage a nearly 40kg box full of books by yourself wasn’t the best idea after all.

Lost in the effort of balancing the hefty box, you were completely oblivious to your surroundings. As soon as you turn to head towards the elevator, you feel yourself colliding with what felt like someone's side, causing you to stumble back a step. The impact was enough to make you wince, but that was the least of your worries.

With a dreadful realization, you watch in horror as the bottom of the box gives way, sending a cascade of books tumbling onto the stranger's feet.

“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry,” you begin to profusely apologize to the man in front of you who is now bent over, clutching his ankle. Quickly chucking the box to the side, you kneel down to inspect his foot. ”Please tell me you’re okay. I’m so sorry. I should have been paying attention,” you continue your string of apologies, hoping that the man wasn’t hurt too badly.

The man winces slightly as you examine his foot, but instantly looks down at you with a reassuring smile. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'm okay, really," he tries to assure you, trying to alleviate your guilt. His smile catches you off guard, you stay frozen for a second, momentarily captivated by his warm smile and almost sparkling brown eyes. However, you quickly shake yourself out of it, realizing that this might not be the best time.

"Liar," you retorted with a hint of skepticism, knowing very well that anyone in their right mind would have cursed you out by now.

The man furrows his eyebrows and lets out a light chuckle. "No, really, I'm okay," he insists, standing up straight to show you that he was fine. You couldn't help but exhale a sigh of relief as you fully stood up as well, grateful that your clumsiness hadn't caused any serious harm.

With a slight laugh, the man gestures towards the pile of books on the ground. "Either you have a shopping problem or you just moved in," he remarks, a playful glint in his eyes.

You laugh in response, shaking your head. "I do have a shopping problem, but this is from just having moved in. My fault for thinking I'd be able to manage," you admit sheepishly.

You bend down to reach for the box to put it back together. You're surprised when the man gets down to your level and starts helping you out.

Mumbling a small thanks, you both begin placing the books back into the reassembled box. As you do this, you take a moment to observe his face. He looks to be around your age, with messy brown hair, and honestly, he was kind of cute.

The man picks up a book titled "A History of Archaeological Thought" and reads the title out in interest, quickly flipping through the pages. “I've actually read this one," he remarks, holding up one of your books on ancient roman archeology "Found it quite interesting."

You look at him slightly surprised and say, "Oh, you have? One of my professors from uni recommended it to me. It's really fascinating."

"These are all archaeology and history textbooks," he observes, gesturing to the pile of books.

You put the last book in the box and stand up along with him, laughing slightly. "Haha, yes, some of them are old textbooks from university. The rest are just stuff I've collected over the years."

He looks at you in awe and exclaims, "You're an archaeologist? That's so cool! I've never met an archaeologist before." The sparkle in his eyes returns, and you almost feel yourself slightly melt at the sight of them. You find yourself flashing him a wide smile. There's something about the genuine curiosity and admiration in his gaze that warms your heart.

Before you can say something, your phone rings. Excusing yourself for a moment, you check your phone and see that Sienna is calling, likely worried by how long it's taken you to pick up a delivery. "Sorry, just a minute," you say to the man, turning to the side to answer your cell. He nods in understanding.

"Hey, Sienna," you answer.

"Girl, what happened? Where are you?" Sienna's voice comes through, concerned.

"Long story, but I'll be up in a minute," you assure her.

"Please, come quick. Joey just texted me; he said he'll be here in like 5 minutes to pick up his stuff and I really don't want to be alone when he gets here," Sienna explains anxiously.

"Ok, yeah, I’ll be right up" you respond, sensing the urgency in her voice.

You hang up the call, tucking your phone quickly into your back pocket, you turn back to the handsome stranger. "Sorry about that, but I actually need to go," you apologize, feeling a twinge of disappointment that your conversation was just cut short.

"Ha, don't worry about it," he reassures you with a warm smile.

You apologize again for his foot and thank him for the help. As you go to bend down to pick up the box, he beats you to it, lifting it effortlessly. "Oh, you don't have to," you insist, but he shakes his head with a small laugh.

"Don't want to risk you possibly injuring someone else," he quips playfully.

You look at him with mock hurt and reply, "Rude!" before bursting into laughter, appreciating his kindness despite what had just happened.

As he begins to walk towards the elevator, you follow suit. You suddenly realize just how warm your cheeks had gotten and you quickly fan your face to cool down before you enter the elevator. Once inside, you press the button for your floor and glance around awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. The tension is palpable, but there's also a subtle excitement lingering in the air.

Arriving at your floor, you lead the way to your new flat, with him following without hesitation. Standing outside your door, you turn to him and say, "Well, this is me. Thanks again, you really didn't have to."

He responds with a gentle smile, "Again, it wasn't a bother. I'm glad to help." He sets the box down next to your door.

You stand in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say next when it suddenly dawns on you that you didn’t know the man’s name. Just as you’re about to introduce yourself, your attention is abruptly pulled away by the sound of your name being called from a distance.

"Y/N!" You spot Sienna's nightmare of an ex strolling towards your door, and you know that if you don't go inside right away, Sienna would probably kill you.

Quickly moving to unlock your door, you turn around to the attractive man and flash him a final smile. "Well, I appreciate the help. I'll see you around," you say hastily.

"Goodbye," He replies with a nod, understanding the urgency in your departure.

With that, you pick up the box and swiftly slip into your door, the sound of it shutting behind you signaling the end of your unexpected encounter.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

A week had passed since your fateful encounter with your charming neighbor, yet his presence continued lingering in your mind, a constant reminder of your missed opportunity to exchange names. Mentally scolding yourself for the oversight, you couldn't help but replay the encounter in your head repeatedly, wishing you had seized the chance to learn more about him.

The past week kept you fairly busy, preparing for the start of term on Monday. Despite that, the thoughts of him persisted more than you'd like to admit. Each time you stepped into the elevator or the lobby of your apartment, you secretly hoped for another chance meeting. Though you were someone who always tried to look presentable when stepping out, you found yourself putting in extra effort, something that didn’t go unnoticed by your flatmate.

"This usually isn't like you. Hoping to run into someone?" Sienna teases you with a knowing smirk as you prepare for the day ahead. With an interview for a teaching assistant position in the morning, lunch plans with your future classmates and some pending errands, today was shaping up to be quite hectic.

"You know," you explain to Sienna, "I just need to meet a bunch of people today, trying to make a good first impression that's all." Sienna's excitement bubbles as she responds, "Speaking of meeting new people, we're going to a party tonight!"

Usually, you were pretty social, but with all the tasks on your list today, the only thing getting you through the day is the thought of getting home and sinking into your bed. "I have quite a long day ahead, and all I want is to rest once I'm back," you confess to Sienna. But she's the persistent type that doesn’t take no for an answer, "You're in London now. New place. New life. You need to make some new friends as well," she insists. "Come on, it'll be fun. You can meet some of my friends."

"Fine, I'll see if I'm feeling up to it once I'm back in the evening," you reluctantly agree and bid her goodbye. “Good luck on your interview!” Sienna screams as you head out the door.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

You return home to a dimly lit flat, only illuminated by the lamp next to the couch and the light emanating from Sienna’s room. You feel a wave of relief as you kick off your shoes, finally able to give your feet a break after being on them all day. You attempt to move as quietly as possible, hoping to sneak past Sienna and retreat to your bedroom for some much-needed rest. However, it seems as though she possesses some sort of mind reading ability, as she calls out to you in a sing-songy tone, "Hey Y/N… Don't even think about sneaking off. Get in here."

You weakly protest, "But…" before Sienna shuts down any objections with a firm, "No buts. Get in here." Giving up, you toss your purse and the shopping bags onto the couch and reluctantly make your way into her room.

Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, you offer a half-hearted, "You called?"

"Yes, get your cute butt in here and get ready. You can borrow one of my tops if you want," Sienna responds. Though you pout for a moment, Sienna's pointed glare leaves you with no room for argument. You finally agree, "Fine… I'll go put something on. I'll be right back." Sienna nods, continuing to put on her mascara.

Returning to your bedroom, you rummage through a box of clothes that you had yet to unpack. Finally settling on a pair of black wide-leg jeans, a black bralette, and a sheer black top to layer over it. Quickly changing, you grab your makeup bag and head back into Sienna's room.

"You look so hot! If I were a guy, I'd be all over you," she says with a wink. "I know right!" you playfully reply as you start to retouch your makeup beside her in the mirror.

As you apply a fresh coat of lipstick, you inquire, "Where is this party by the way?" Sienna responds, "Oh, it's right upstairs. It's a house party at my friend George’s place."

"Cool, but I don't want to stay too long. I actually feel like I'll drop dead any second after the long day I've had," you tell Sienna, hoping she'll understand your need for an early night, but you can't help but feel a twang of hope in your heart that you might run into the cute brown-eyed stranger there.

Sienna turns to you with a playful salute, saying, "Yes, ma'am. We'll just have a few drinks, mingle around. We won't be there long." Her words reassure you, and you offer her an appreciative smile as the two of you share a laugh.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

As you and Sienna stand outside of George's flat, you hear the sounds of laughter and music echo from inside. With an encouraging grin, Sienna grabs you by the arms and pushes open the door, pulling you into the flat.

Your eyes scan the room, taking in the sights and sounds of the party. Despite your fatigue, a spark of excitement blooms within you; it's been a while since you've had the opportunity to drink a little and let loose.

Sienna's eyes scan the room. and an excited smile lights up her face as she spots someone. "George!", she calls out enthusiastically, waving to catch the attention of a brown haired man.

He gives Sienna a slightly intoxicated smile as he stumbles over to where the two of you stand. "Hi! You made it!," he greets her with a hug.

Sienna responds with a smile, saying, "Of course! Any excuse to get drunk," as she pulls away and turns slightly towards you. "George, this is my other half, Y/N," she introduces, prompting you to flash him a smile and lean in for a side hug, which he reciprocates.

"Hey, Y/N, how are you finding London so far?" George inquires, prompting you to reply, "Oh, it's been great, and it's a plus living with Sienna…"

"Well, let me introduce you to the rest of the gang and get you guys a drink. Come." He leads the two of you near the kitchen, where you see two men chatting with solo cups in hand. George gestures towards the drinks and encourages you to help yourselves, handing you each a cup as well.

You quickly fix yourself a drink and take a sip, the cold liquid adding some life back into you. You turn around to see Sienna and George now in a conversation with the two other guys. You grab your drink and head over to join them.

"Guys, this is Y/N," Sienna introduces you to the two men in front of you, slinging an arm around you in the process. "Y/N, this is Chris and this is Arthur," Sienna continues, "They live here too. We have another Arthur; he should be around here somewhere," George adds as he takes a look around the room.

Arthur extends his hand and says, "It's nice to finally meet you. Sienna doesn't shut up about you." Chris chimes in, "Yeah, we know everything… even the thing with the door." You look at him in shock and lightly laugh, replying, "Yeah....I am not drunk enough to get into the whole door story." you say taking a large swig of your drink, earning a laugh from the group.

30 minutes and many vodka shots later, you get to learn a little more about the boys. The conversation is flowing and filled with laughter. You find out that all of them are YouTubers and create content on the internet. George makes videos on YouTube and Tik-Tok, and Chris made football videos. Arthur, in particular, was a musician, which you spent a few good minutes remarking how cool that was.

After conversing a bit more, Sienna takes you around the room and introduces you to few more people. Some lived in the building and others were mutual friends that she had with George, Chris and Arthur.

You are chatting with a few girls when George joins the group, more shots in hand, "No more...I'm like another shot away from throwing up," you tell him.

"That's fine. I'll find someone to hold your hair back," he says with a chuckle, placing a shot glass in your hand and in the already drunk state you were in, you comply.

Even more shots later, you excuse yourself to go to the restroom. George tells you to use the en-suite in his room and despite George's instructions, it takes you all but 5 seconds to forget in your intoxicated state.

You head in the general direction that he pointed you in and walk down the hall, stumbling into the first bedroom that you see. The room has a cozy and warm atmosphere. There is a filming set up on the desk in the corner, a bookshelf overflowing with books and a white piano placed against one of the walls. At first glance, you don't feel like the room fits the vibe that George had, but you brushed it off and made a beeline to the toilet.

You finish your business and step out of the restroom. As you exit, you hear the door of the balcony open wider, and at that moment it dawns on you that you might have unintentionally entered someone else's private space by mistake.

Without a second thought, you try to head straight out the door, hoping to completely avoid any interaction at all. But with the alcohol slowing down your reaction time, you're only able to take maybe four steps before you hear a man's voice, "Oh, hello."

In that moment, you just want to make a run for it, but instead, you turn around to face whoever's room this was. You're pleasantly surprised when you come face to face with a familiar warm smile.

"Hey", you reply with slight surprise in your tone, a smile creeping up on your face. His face lights up with a bright smile at the sight of the person that was occupying space in his mind for the past week.

"Hide everything heavy, else I might drop it on your foot," you say, your face scrunching at your embarrassing attempt to make this interaction less awkward. Your words earn you a laugh.

"Oh, sorry btw," you blurt out, pointing to the restroom door. "George said I could use the one in his room, but I got confused and ended up here. I know I probably should have checked to see if there was someone else here first. Haha, I don't always think too straight when I'm drunk, you know, especially because it's been almost 6 months since I drank last so, I'm usually not a lightweight, but I guess the large pause from drinking has kind of turned me into one." you word vomit in your drunken state.

You pause for a second to catch your breath, all while the man in front of you takes it all in with an amused smile on his face. "Oh shit, I'm rambling, aren't I? Sorry for that," your words are accompanied with a slight stumble even while just standing, and the man quickly rushes to your side. "Woah there," he says, helping you regain balance. "Come sit down." He leads you and sits you down on the edge of his bed, taking a seat next to you.

"Oh! I'm Y/N, by the way. Sorry I didn't catch your name last time," you finally introduce yourself, hoping to clear the awkward air. He smiles warmly. "I'm Arthur," he says, his voice soft and friendly.

"So you're the fourth flatmate," you remark, trying to keep the conversation flowing smoothly.

"Yeah, that's me," Arthur confirms with a nod. "The elusive fourth flatmate," he adds with a chuckle. "I've been friends with the boys for a while, but I just moved in a a few weeks ago."

As Arthur talks about how he met each of his flatmates, you can't help but be drawn in by his charming and slightly goofy personality. You also didn't mind just staring at his handsome face for a while. You find yourself smiling at his easy demeanor, pleasantly surprised by how instantly at ease you started to feel around him as you two spoke, as if you'd known each other much longer than your short interactions.

You learn that Arthur is a YouTuber too, specializing in TV show commentary and reaction videos. You make a mental note to check out his channel, along with the others', when you manage to find the time.

He says, "You know, I totally felt like an idiot the other day for not getting your name." You chuckle softly, feeling a bit relieved that he brought it up first.

"Oh no, that was totally on me," you admit sheepishly, "I was in a bit of a hurry." you quickly recover, flashing him a warm smile. "But it's nice seeing you again," you say sincerely.

"Likewise," Arthur replies, a hint of relief in his voice. "I was hoping we'd run into each other again."

"Is your boyfriend here as well?" Arthur asks, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. For a moment, you almost feel like you misheard him. "I'm sorry, what?" you ask, taken aback. "Your boyfriend, the guy from the hall the other week, don't you live together?" he asks, with furrowed brows.

"Oh, no, he wasn't my boyfriend," you clarify, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I live with my friend Sienna. He's her ex; he was just coming over to pick up some of the stuff he left behind." You swear you see relief wash over Arthur's face.

"But where did you get that impression?" you ask, intrigued.

Arthur hesitates for a moment before answering, "Well, before he went into your flat, he said that his girlfriend lived there, tried to size me up, and then told me to stay away from your place."

You look at him in shock. "He did what!?" you exclaim, "Are you serious?", you say, making a mental note to strangle Joey if you were to ever see him again.

Arthur nods, a sympathetic expression on his face. "Yeah, I found the bloke a little dodgy. Weird character."

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, now you know why he's her ex," you quip, shaking your head.

After a moment of silence, Arthur clears his throat, his tone slightly hesitant. "So, you're single?" he asks, his gaze meeting yours. You notice a hint of nervousness in his voice, and he quickly adds, "I-I don't mean to make you uncomfortable with that question…"

You offer him a reassuring smile. "No, no, it's okay," you reassure him, appreciating his concern. "Yes, I'm single," you confirm, feeling a sense of ease in his presence.

Arthur visibly relaxes, relieved by your response. "Good to know," he says with a small, sheepish grin. You can't help but find his reaction incredibly cute, and you let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, just focusing on finding my footing here in London," you explain, your tone light.

Arthur leans in with curiosity. "So, what brings you to London?" he asks, genuine interest gleaming in his eyes. You can't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest, surprised and pleased by the level of interest he's showing, unable to recall any guy you've talked to who has shown such genuine curiosity about your life.

You smile, feeling a sense of connection as you share a bit of your story. "Well, I'm actually starting my Ph.D. next week," you reveal. "It's been my dream program for as long as I can remember."

His eyebrows raise in intrigue. "Wow! a Ph.D.? That's impressive. In archeology?" he asks, his interest piqued. He laughs softly, and adds "I remember from the books you dropped on me."

You laugh, appreciating his recall. "Yes, that's the one," you confirm, feeling your heart melting at how attentive he was.

"Wow, archaeology sounds fascinating," Arthur remarks, leaning in with genuine interest, and you realize just how close he had gotten during this conversation. "How did you get into it?"

You smile, reminiscing about your journey. "Well, it's kind of because of my father," you begin, "He was a Greek history professor, and some of my youngest memories are of sitting in on his lectures when I was little and he has always been very supportive of me learning about other cultures and their histories."

Arthur's eyes light up with curiosity as he listens intently.

"So I just knew," you continue, "When it was time for uni, it just felt write to study archeology. Though I was studying in the States up until now, I traveled to various countries, exploring different archaeological sites." Arthur nods, captivated by your story.

And just like that, the conversation flows effortlessly between you, diving deeper into the world of archaeology and sharing your mutual fascination with the subject. You also ask him about his journey in becoming a youtuber and are extremely impressed by how he transitioned from being a lawyer to a content creator. With each new detail he shares, you find yourself being just a little more attracted to him.

As you continue on with your conversation, your attention is drawn away when you hear a knock on the open door of the room.

George peaks his head into the room, you get up and face him, realizing that you had completely forgotten that you even were at a party. Time had slipped away as you spoke with Arthur.

You check your phone, and were slightly shocked to see that almost 2 hours had passed by since you came stumbling into Arthur's room.

"Y/N, I was looking for you," George says, concern evident in his voice. "Sienna seems a bit out of it. I think you should take her home."

Immediately, you're on your feet, concern for your friend overriding any other thoughts. You follow George back into the living room, Arthur following closely behind. You see that the crowd had thinned out a bit but the music was still playing and there were still people chatting and drinking.

Sienna is sprawled out on the couch, her hair covering her face. You crouch down next to her, gently brushing her hair away. "Are you okay, babe?" you ask softly.

Sienna's eyes flutter open, and she springs up, throwing her arms around you. "Y/N! Where were you all night? I wanted to drink more with you!" she exclaims. Then, she turns to George and demands, "Get us more shots, George!"

George looks between the two of you and shakes his head with a smile. "Water it is," he says and heads to the kitchen to get some.

Sienna spots Arthur standing behind you. "Hey there," she says cheerfully. She'd always been the more social one between you two and absolutely loved meeting new people.

Arthur comes over and crouches next to you, introducing himself to her. "You must be Sienna. I'm Arthur, another one of George's flatmates," he says warmly. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?" He asks, and you find yourself looking at Arthur with a smile, touched by how sweet he was being.

"You're the guy that Y/N almost decapitated last week," she teases, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, completely ignoring Arthur's questions. "Oh, you are cute!"

Sienna then glances at you, a goofy smile spreading across her face. "You were right, he is cute," she says, with a playful wink in your direction.

As Sienna's playful words sink in, you feel a blush creeping up on your face. Sienna always lost whatever little filter she had when she was drunk.

You catch Arthur glancing at you for a second, and you quickly avert your gaze, attempting to hide your flushing cheeks.

George returns with a bottle of water and hands it to you. You get Sienna to drink as much as she can.

"I should get her to bed then," you announce to the boys. Moving to pick her up, you find her weight causing you to stumble. Just as you're about to lose your balance, Arthur steps in to help, stabilizing both of you.

"I'll help get her back home," Arthur offers. You flash him an appreciative smile. Grateful for his assistance, you nod in agreement.

"It was great meeting you George," you say with a smile as he hands you Sienna's bag.

"It was great meeting you too," George replies warmly. "Take care yeah?", you nod in response.

With a final wave, you and Arthur begin to make your way out of the apartment, Sienna leaning on both of you for support.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

"Alright, Sienna, we're home," you say gently as you now stand in front of your door, slightly nudging her, waking her up, as she had managed to doze off while you were getting the door open. You carefully guide her through the door with Arthur's assistance.

"Her bedroom is just down the hall." You say to Arthur and he helps you get her to her room.

"Let's get you settled then," you say to Sienna as you lay her in her bed and take her heels off. Arthur steps aside for a moment while you tuck Sienna into bed and ensure she's comfortable.

Once Sienna is settled, you glance at Arthur and gesture him to leave with you. The two of you leave her bedroom as quietly as possible, and you step outside your flat so you can thank him and see him off.

You and Arthur stand in the hallway outside your door, a quiet moment settling between you.

"Thank you again for helping me with Sienna," you say, breaking the silence.

Arthur shakes his head, "It wasn't a bother at all," he replies sincerely, his eyes reflecting genuine kindness. Then, he remarks, "You and Sienna seem really close."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, we've known each other since we were about 10 years old. She's probably the only person in the world who knows me better than I know myself," you explain. Arthur listens attentively, admiring you as you talk about your best friend with a slight twinkle in your eye.

Arthur nods with a smile. "It was great seeing you again," he says, and you return his smile, expressing your mutual sentiment.

He then reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone. "Could I get your number?" he asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he hands you his phone.

You take the phone with a smile, feeling the subtle tension building in the air. After exchanging numbers, a moment of silence passes as you gaze into each other's eyes. In that moment, you notice just how close he's stood, his height easily towering over you.

In a low voice, you say, "I really enjoyed speaking with you today," with a smile. Arthur replies, "So did I."

The tension between you grows palpable, and Arthur breaks the silence. "I think we should hang out more often," he suggests.

"Yeah, I think so too," you reply, excitement lacing your voice.

Maybe it was the alcohol that was still flowing in your system, or maybe it was the feeling of anticipation that was building, almost like each of you was waiting for the other to say or do something, or maybe it was just this gorgeous man standing ever so close to you, with his pretty brown eyes and a charming smile that was already getting you weak at your knees. Whatever the reason may be, all you knew is that you were feeling surprisingly bold tonight.

Without another word, you lean in, deciding to shoot your shot with the guy who only came into your life a week ago. Arthur reciprocates, leaning in and connecting his lips with yours. His hands come up to your waist, giving it a light squeeze as he pulls you almost flush against his hard chest. The sudden contact causes a light gasp to escape your mouth. Arthur takes the chance as he slips his hot tongue into your mouth. Arthur's tongue explores your mouth, sending shivers down your spine and a warmth spreads down your body.

He gently pushes you up against your door as he deepens the kiss further. You find yourself melting into his touch, your arms moving up to wrap around his neck. You give his fluffy soft hair a slight tug, causing Arthur to let out a low groan and he tries to get even closer to you, as if that were even physically possible anymore.

You feel his warm hand snake up the back of your shirt and settle on the low of your back, the sensation turning your legs to jelly.

If someone would have told you a month a ago that you’d be making out with a guy you had just met outside of your flat in London, you would have laughed at their face.

This particular moment was absolutely perfect and you did not wanna stop anytime soon.

Eventually, the two of you pull away breathless, panting for air. Both of you look at each other with matching lust-filled eyes and flushed cheeks.

In that moment the both of you let out a laugh, now feeling a lot lighter after breaking the tension.

Arthur takes a step back and looks like he is about to say something. But, before he can get a word in, a loud thud interrupts the moment from inside your flat.

The sounds causes you to jolt and step away from the door. You turn around to open the door, hoping that Sienna hadn't hurt herself in her drunk state.

Before you stepped into you flat, you turn to Arthur. "I had a really good time tonight," you say, smiling. He returns you that swoon worthy smile of his.

"I'll see you later." He says with a goodbye.

With that, you head inside, a goofy smile of your own plastered across your face. You lean against your door and take a moment to process what just happened.

"Y/N", your thoughts are interrupted as you hear Sienna call out to you from inside her bedroom.

"Coming," you reply, heading in her direction, your mind still reeling from the passionate moment you shared with Arthur.

Once you had made sure that Sienna was all good and tucked back into bed, you find yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, with flushed cheeks, replaying the events of tonight.

Your phone dings beside you, lighting up your dark bedroom. You peer over to see a "Hi" from an unknown number and at that moment you knew that this new chapter of your life in London, might just be the best one yet.

Part 2

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: AAAAAAHHHH! I still can't believe that I've finally gotten my first fic up. I kind of want to write a part 2 for this fic. I’m envisioning cute museum dates and late night ramblings. Something that is in the same universe as this story. Let me know what you think.

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊

[wearywinchester]

Not Going Anywhere

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When he nearly loses you, Dean finds he can’t stand the thought of that happening.

Requested by Anonymous: “May I please request a one shot of dean and reader with her having an internal bleeding. You know when the character seems fine but then boom they collapse and turns out they're not fine at all?? I LIIIVE for that shit... The shock, the realization, the worry....”

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: angst, injury, bleeding, shock, anxiety, mentions of alcohol, guilt, fluff

You sat slumped in the backseat of the Impala, exhausted from the hunt. Fortunately, it’d been close to the bunker, close enough that you didn’t need a motel room overnight. Close enough that the drive hadn’t been terribly long like most cases were. You felt like you’d been run over by a semi two times over, a certain weakness running through you that left you feeling less than okay.

You watched quietly as the rain came down and trickled against the chilled windows of the car, falling into each other as they raced down the glass before fresh ones took their place in an instant. It was gloomy weather, something you could have found yourself seeking comfort in on any given day, something that otherwise would have been cozy had you not felt the way you did.

But you did, and it wasn’t leaving any time soon.

Dean had the heat cranked up because he could see that you were cold, could tell by the way you wrapped your arms around yourself. The ache and burn in your stomach had yet to subside, Dean having cleaned your wound before setting off to go home earlier that day, but that didn’t stop it from hurting.

You were less than comfortable, as far from it as you could be as you sat behind Sam. You missed the way Dean had glanced at you in the rear view more often than not, his concern evident in the crease between his brows, deepening each and every time he looked. He saw your agitation, the way your face contorted in discomfort as you slumped against the seat. You couldn’t sit still even if your life depended on it, constantly moving in your seat despite the way the hurt in your abdomen is screaming at you otherwise.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so restless in your life more than you were in that moment, anxiety settling in heavily the more you sat stuck in that car. There wasn’t anything in particular for you to feel this way over—you’d ridden in this car more times than you could count for years, having sat in the very same spot for far longer than this trip has been before. You’d done it all before without fail, without a problem, but this time was different.

It was different and he knew it.

Any other time you’d start a conversation about any and everything, singing along with him to nearly any song that came on the radio for the sake of getting on Sam’s nerves. Any other time you’d take a nap if you were tired, especially on a day like that where the clouds and rain offered ample comfort to allow you to do so, but this wasn’t any other time. This time you looked like you were two seconds from hopping out at the next red light, and it didn’t sit right with him.

“Sweetheart, you okay back there?” He calls out over his shoulder.

You’re not even sure if the words came out of his mouth, not even sure if you heard him as you shifted your gaze. When he didn’t get a response he looked in his mirror at you, calling out your name once more with more concern than the last.

You sat up a little straighter, glancing at him with eyes squinted slightly in confusion. “‘M fine, De.”

He wasn’t entirely convinced of that, not even a little bit as you blinked, trying to gather yourself a bit more than in that moment as he turned down the road that led to the bunker. You had a habit of saying you’re fine when you’re not, and you’re so clearly the opposite and he finds himself grateful he’s home, you’re home. But that doesn’t soothe the worry boiling over in the pit of his stomach, clouding his mind of anything and everything revolving around you.

Your words were merely words as they fell from your lips, that feeling simmering within you feeling awfully bad as you sit there, as the impala descended down into the bunker’s garage. The fluorescent lights were harsh on your eyes, your wince inevitable as you fought the groan sitting in the back of your throat. Dean didn’t need to be worrying over you, though he surely already was.

You think you just need a rest, a few hours sleeping in your own bed would do you some good. It had to.

You hadn’t fully registered the fact that the car had come to a stop, put in park in its usual spot and it gave Dean enough time to round the back end of it before you tried to get out on your own. When he pulls the door open you’ve got that look, one that tugs at his heart because you look so miserable, so tired and defeated. He crouches down closer to your level as you sit there, watches as you take a deep breath to try and steady the race of your heart. To try and calm the queasy feeling in your stomach.

“Sweetheart?” He asks, eyes on you in search of any indication that you’d been listening. You were, you really were, but you were trying to get a handle on how you felt. “Baby, we’re home.”

You nod then, turning your head to look at him with a soft smile in an attempt to assure him you’d heard him. He stood to his feet and held his hand out, gentle as he helped out of the car. You tried to ignore the rush that came down over you the moment you got up, tried to swallow down the intensifying nausea that’d swirled around in your stomach just begging to come up. You tried your hardest and it was proving to be a challenge.

You were dizzy when you stood to your feet, almost overwhelming, but you were quick to balance yourself and you brushed it off. You’d been in the car for the past two hours, doing nothing but sit in the same position for the majority of that time and you’d yet to eat or drink anything. A little dizziness seemed reasonable upon standing in your mind, not to mention the way your head had been hurting for nearly the same amount of time as the drive home.

You felt his hand slip from yours in favor of wrapping around you to steady you, to help you as you walked but you shrugged him off just as quickly, flashing him a look.

“De, I’m fine. You don’t need to fuss over me,” you say, and the look on his face shows just how much he disagrees with you. You could see it with the dimples forming by the very corners of his mouth and the raise of his eyebrow.

“Y/n—”

“I’m serious. I just need a little sleep and I’ll be fine,” you say, smiling once more in hopes he’d settle down, but you knew he wouldn’t.

It took a few moments, but eventually he dropped his hand to his side reluctantly and eyed you carefully, cautious as he watched you walk ahead into the bunker’s hallway towards your shared room. He knew you better than you thought, better than you knew yourself. He knew you like the back of his hand, but you were just as stubborn as he was and that’s the problem.

You flickered between bouts of nausea and none at all, between feeling fine, like you said you were, and feeling like you’d been drug all the way home tied to the trunk of the Impala. It was something that worsened the more you dwelled on the feeling, something you wished would subside.

You felt a beat of relief upon seeing the golden eleven mounted on that familiar wooden door come into view just down the hall, could smell the faint scent of Dean’s cologne wafting over you as he walked by towards Sam.

You were almost there, then you could lay down for a good long while, tuck yourself into that memory foam bed that was unbelievably comfortable and smelled every bit like Dean, and rest like you’d been longing to do since the moment you left to come home that day. You could rest in the comfort of your shared space for as long as you needed to get better. You were almost there.

But you weren’t.

In that moment, you felt like you were miles away from your destination, you felt like the conversation the two of them were having just a few feet away had been miles away from you, their voices muffled far more than they should be for how close they’d really been to you.

You slowed yourself to a wavering stop for a minute just to gather yourself a little more than you were then and there, reaching out for the wall that was just a little farther than you anticipated it to be. Your ears began to ring slightly, gradually, as that same nausea made its unpleasant return in your stomach, eyes squeezing shut just for a moment. You weren’t aware of just how awful you looked in that moment, but you knew it couldn’t have been too good if it was a reflection of how you were feeling in that very same moment. To be quite honest you felt like you’d just run a marathon with the way you couldn’t catch your breath, with the way your heart had been hammering within your chest at a faster than normal pace.

You felt like a walking, breathing disaster, and sure enough, you looked like it too.

Dean’s brows furrowed when he followed Sam’s gaze, to you, to you who stood there unsure of yourself as a flurry of emotions flashed over your face within a second’s time. A number of emotions, none of anything positive being displayed and it intensified the worries he’d had running through him. A sheen of sweat had glistened over your skin despite the chill that ran through you, your vision doubled as you opened your eyes once more to try and give Dean a glance.

“Y/n?” Your name fell from his lips, soft and hesitant at first as the initial confusion took over, his mouth going dry as he approached you.

“I’m…” you start, nodding your head as you swallow thickly. “I’m fine, Dean. I just…"

Your words were failing you, your ability to form a coherent thought failing you in that moment as you lost all means of balance, teetering on the edge of collapsing before you’d gone and done it. The shout of your name had come off as an echo to you, the impact of the floor having been cold and unforgiving as you fell, too weak to catch yourself.

He hated just how limp you felt in his arms as he knelt beside you, the pain jolting through him from dropping to his knees on the concrete floor having been the very least of his concerns as he watched you. Panic had lanced through him as your head lulled, caught in the crook of his arm as his other hand grabbed your face. Despite the sweat gleaming across your skin, your cheeks were void of any heat that you’d expect to feel and it only added to his upset.

“Y/n!” He called out, your brows furrowing as you felt yourself go from bad to worse, a steady declining feeling blanketing you. “Sweetheart, stay with me.”

His voice was loud, carrying through the winding hall in an echoing display of his fear, the sound taunting him as it bounced off the walls. You nodded weakly, despite the way your heartbeat hammered loudly in your ears enough to muffle what he’d been saying to Sam, or the way you couldn’t hold yourself up if it weren’t for the way he held you. Despite that, you nodded for him.

That ache from the wound you’d walked away from that hunt with was still very much there, that you knew. You knew things didn’t look good for you in that moment, not with the way Dean looked at you as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, or the fear in his eyes when he’d pressed his fingers to the side of your neck, your pulse faint but bounding beneath his fingertips. Things were continuing to go from bad to worse, to far beyond that and you knew that wasn’t a good sign.

You knew it the moment that feeling hit you in the car an hour earlier and the panic you felt was only increasing the more you thought things over.

You should have said something then, you know that now. You should have stopped saying you were fine when you so clearly weren’t, should have stopped doing what you always do and downplay a situation in fear of thinking about the outcome. You should have known better than to think it’d be as easy as Dean patching you up, not after what that spirit did to you. Nothing in hunting is ever as good as it seems, as easy as it seems, and you should have said something earlier.

Because now, now you were quite sure you were facing your fate when you didn’t have time to prepare for it. And that’s what scared you the most. It could have been something trivial, that’s what you’d been longing for it to be, but you knew it was just your own denial telling you that.

“Dean,” you say, taking a breath as you look up at him. The green eyes you loved so much were filled with a kind of emotion you never liked to see. “I—I just want you to know—”

“No, no c’mon. We’re not doing this sweetheart, okay?”

Nausea hit him like a ton of bricks at the sight of the crimson that slowly began to stain your teeth when you coughed, rage bursting through him in waves over the situation he doesn’t know how to control the ending of. Over the fact that he doesn’t think he can control the outcome for the love of his life in his very arms. He knows nothing in this life is guaranteed, not for the life of someone who hunts the world’s worst monsters.

He’s lost so much in his life, but damn does this one hurt.

“I don’t feel so good,” you murmur instead, watching the expressions flicker across his face through half closed eyes as you groan, brows furrowing at the expression he’d been looking at you with. “What is it?”

He couldn’t tell you what he saw, he wouldn’t do it.

“I know you don’t,” he says softly, chuckling despite it being void of humor, running his hand over your head. “I know you don’t but you’re gonna be okay, you hear me?”

All you could do was hum and nod, a soft noise you can’t quite tell had left your lips as the weight of your eyelids grew heavier and heavier. You were tired, that much was true. But he tapped your cheek with his hand lightly, grabbing ahold of your face.

“Don’t do that,” he urged, “please, don’t do that.”

He looked to Sam, a mirrored look of panic looking back at him that didn’t do much to soothe his stresses.

He feels near paralyzed when his gaze drops to you again, your eyes closed. He’d grabbed your face and called your name till his throat felt like sandpaper, till it felt like he swallowed a thousand knives he shouted your name. He held you tight in his arms as his mind worried in a frenzy of fear, calling out desperately for the one person that could help.

Cas.

If there was one thing that Dean Winchester knew how to do, it was worry. He’d worry himself to death over the ones he loved, in fact, there wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do to keep them safe. But worry is what he’d done for the last two and a half hours and nothing else.

If it was possible, one might think he’d wear a hole in the floor from his pacing at the foot of the bed in the bunkers infirmary. Cas had come in a moment’s notice much to Dean’s relief, had swooped in quite literally and healed you the way he hoped you could be.

It turns out that spirit had done more than just graze you, had gone a little deeper than either of you had thought. It turns out you’d been bleeding more than just on the surface, and that it hadn’t actually slowed to a stop once he’d patched you up back there. You were bleeding this whole time, you just didn’t know it until it almost became too late.

It all made sense now, the way you were acting in the car. The restlessness, the agitation and the way you couldn’t sit still. He knew there was something wrong even when you refused to admit it, and he hated it when you did that. Hated it when you kept your pain to yourself when you really didn’t need to, in favor of staving his worry and trying to be independent, and that’s something he knew well.

But that wasn’t the point, the point was you were lying there in that bed almost within an inch of your life had Cas not come. The point was he nearly lost you in his arms and he couldn’t help the blame that sparked and burst within him that maybe he shouldn’t have believed you when you said you were fine. He didn’t, but he felt he should have kept pushing, kept prying to get you to admit it. Thinking that maybe he should have known there was more to that injury by the way your face crinkled up when it happened, by the way you fell to the floor for a moment or two before you stood back on your feet.

He felt like this was on him, and it was tearing him up from the inside out.

Dean ran through a myriad of emotions that night, each one hitting harder than the last. He was scared, the mere thought of losing someone he found himself rapidly not being able to see himself living without having scared him more than he’d care to even admit. He was angry, his fear masked behind clenched jaws and hands running through hair, chairs kicked and chest heaving. Angry at himself for not having gotten to you sooner back there.

It was a never ending cycle of fear and anger and guilt, a cycle he felt he’d always feel in one way or another so long as the ones he loves keep getting hurt when he feels he has the means to prevent it somehow.

For the better part of that two hours, apart from the anxious pacing, he sat at your side as you rested. He was reluctant to leave your side should something happen again. He couldn’t handle that and he knew it. He sat there with his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. He held your hand for a while, thumb absentmindedly brushing over your knuckles as his foot tapped and his knee bounced subconsciously.

For the better part of that two hours, the events of what lead up to that point had replayed in his mind over and over in a taunting loop, having worsened the feeling he held each and every time it restarted. Each time he recalled something more in the way you’d looked in the car, in the way you acted, in the way you felt in his arms.

Cas had to tell him a million times over that you’d be okay. That wound on your stomach had been healed, everything had been healed as though it was never there. He told him a thousand times over that you were stable, you were okay. You were okay, but he couldn’t find it in himself to get over it just yet.

The last time Cas had said it was when he believed it, it was when he couldn’t be in that room another second otherwise he just might crack. He couldn’t bear to see you laying there like that, no matter the fact that you were just fine. It made his stomach churn and twist in knots.

He left, the stack of lore books swept off the table in the library in his wake, a string of curses leaving his lips. He went to your shared room first, the door slamming roughly behind him. He was angry at no one else but himself despite the fact that he shouldn’t be, but he’ll beg to differ on that a thousand times over.

When you woke up, the infirmary was empty. You’d seen the chair at your bedside that hadn’t normally been there. And if it wasn’t telling enough of Dean’s presence, the weight of his jacket splaying warmly overtop of you was sure to make it all the more obvious he’d been there.

You were sore as you sat up, stiff from having been laying in the same position for an amount of time you were sure of. But, when you lifted the hem of your shirt, that burning wound had no longer resided where it’d been. That nausea had since dissolved, that headache had gone away for the most part, and the weakness you felt, the dizziness, it’d all gone away. You knew it was done with the help of no one other than Cas.

You were sure Dean had been there with you for quite some time, but you also knew Dean better than to think he’d handle it well. You knew by the way you’d woken up by yourself that he’d handled it horribly. He gets worked up over injuries that are on a smaller scale, but this, this was far different than that. Inches from meeting your fate had been much too different than that and you knew he’d disappeared to sulk by himself.

You sighed when you pushed yourself off the bed, leaving the empty infirmary before navigating the bunker. The sight of the books splaying messily across the floor had been an indication of something you already suspected, the quiet in the air having added to the tension only followed when one of the three of you had been angry.

Your bedroom was empty, the blankets stretching over to his side of the bed having been wrinkled some from where he’d been sitting. A photo of the two of you had been sitting there on the nightstand, half-tucked under the base of the lamp sitting lit atop it, the drawer not closed all the way.

The Impala was still in the garage where he’d parked it hours ago, a frown tugging at your lips at the sight of the very hallway everything had taken place.

You knew where he’d be at this hour, at one where everyone should be asleep. Sam had been, you were sure of that, but if Dean hadn’t been in either of those places, you knew where he’d be.

A knowing sigh left your lips as you stepped down into the kitchen, the very one you’d been looking for sitting at the table. You saw the bottle of whiskey on the table and you saw the glass in his hand. You saw the way his hair had been a ruffled mess and you saw the ivory of his knuckles as he held that very same glass. You knew that all too well, you knew he’d been all sorts of torn up inside. He was.

“Knew I’d find you here,” you say, his head turning at the sound of your voice.

You could see the relief flooding his expression as he looked up at you, at the way his eyes widened and the way his face lit up just a little bit more than before, though it didn’t take long for the crease between his brows to deepen once more as you sat down next to him. He’s quiet for a moment before he presses a lingering kiss to your temple, and another as his next words are murmured against your skin.

“Sweetheart, you should be in bed, you’ve been through it today.”

You could hear the fatigue in the softness of his tone, could feel his nose brush against your temple before he turned away.

“Without you?” Your words are lighter as a soft smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

He chuckles, half-humorous as he shakes his head, swirling the whiskey around in his glass. He swallows thickly, thoughts weighing heavy on his mind as a million words sit on the tip of his tongue. You knew a little humor didn’t do much to stave off that feeling he held.

“‘M fine, Dean.”

“Don’t say that,” he says, head shaking before he brings the glass up to his mouth and swallows the rest of his drink, pouring himself another.

You saw the way his eyes were rimmed a pale shade of pink. Dean Winchester wasn’t one to cry too often, but you could always tell when he had been. His eyes were red and so was the very tip of his nose, flushed a soft pink and the quiver in his lip hadn’t quite left just yet.

“I’m serious, Dean. I’m okay.”

“Well you weren’t a few hours ago, Y/n. You were damn near dead,” he says, louder than before as his jaw tenses.

“Well I’m not,” you counter, the huff that puffs through his nose an indication of his frustration.

“I’m glad this is just another day to you, Y/n.”

He brings his hands up to his face, rubbing over it in frustration as he sniffs. You saw that quiver just a little more now, one he hid behind his glass as he tipped his head back and drank it.

“For cryin’ out loud you still got blood on your teeth, Y/n,” he says, softer this time as the tension in his jaw loosens.

You sigh softly, more so to yourself as you stay quiet for a moment or two, your tongue swiping over your teeth before you bite the inside of your cheek. You can see the emotions flicker and roll through him, can see the guilt written clear across his face to match the feeling simmering in the pit of his stomach. When you got up, he’d expected you to just walk away, though instead you find yourself leaning atop the wooden table.

You snag the glass from the loose grip he had on it, setting it aside as he drug his hands down his face.

Your shoulders drop a fraction as you look down at your hands for a moment, foot tapping quietly against the floor. When you looked at him, his gaze was on the table, the inside of his cheek between his teeth. You bring your hand up to smooth over his hair before your palm settles on his cheek, thumb brushing over his chin. His eyes lift to yours, weary and upset.

You don’t fail to miss the way he leans into your touch no matter how subtle, or the way the clench in his jaw dissipates the rest of the way before your hand drops to your lap.

“There was nothing you could’ve done differently back there, De. No matter how much you think otherwise,” you say, watching that tension return as he looks away. “I know that’s what you’re thinking right now, but I’m still here. Now you don’t have to believe me on this, and I know you won’t, but you were there when I needed you the most. And that’s the only thing that matters to me. So you can be mad at yourself all you want, you can blame yourself all you want, but I’m not blaming this on you.”

He sat quietly, simmering in his own silence with closed eyes as his chest heaves a bit more than normal. You swipe your thumb across the crease between his brows, smoothing it softly as you watch the way he bites the inside of his cheek. Dean Winchester’s got a whole lot of stubbornness in him, but a whole lot of softness no matter how many layers of anger and frustration and worry sit atop it.

You move from the table after a beat of silence, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He relaxed under your embrace, more so when you dipped down from behind him and pressed a kiss on his cheek, one more for good measure.

You don’t know what to say for a little while as your head rests against his, arms dangling over his shoulders as you clasp your hands together loosely. You know for a fact he’s still beating himself up for this, that was something you knew was unavoidable. But that was something you could handle.

“Come to bed, De, it’s late,” you murmur, kissing his cheek once, twice, three times.

He hums at first, nodding his head. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

You let him go with a soft squeeze to his shoulders, spinning on your heel as you sigh softly. But it doesn’t take more than a mere few seconds before you hear him move around.

“Sweetheart, wait.”

You turn around once more, brow raised in curiosity.

He’s hesitant for a moment before he crosses the room in a couple of steps, arms around you in an instant. You wrap yours around his neck, his embrace near bone crushing as his face tucks into your neck. His stubble is rough against your skin, the softness of your smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He’s got fistfuls of your shirt in his palms, holding you close as you stand up on your toes.

“What do you say we ditch hunting for a little while?” He mumbles into your neck, your soft laughter immediate as you lean back to look at him. “Don’t want you dyin’ on me again, sweetheart.”

You bit your cheek for a moment as you shook your head, fighting a smile. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Winchester.”

He rolls his eyes, looking to the side as he fights the beginnings of his smile. “Yeah, well, I’m good with that.”

The tension he held minutes ago lessened some, his expression softer as he looked down at you. You lean on your toes and kiss him softly, lingering just over his lips for a few seconds before kissing him once more with a smile as you speak up.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @campingmonkey @agalliasi @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath

[squidwen]

🐺Cross-Country Calamity🐺

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Summary: The annual cross-country run has finally come and, whether you like it or not, you’re doomed to spend your morning baking in sweltering heat and pushing your legs until they scream.

When you trip and twist your ankle you wonder if there’s any point in hoping someone will help you, especially when certain athletic students seem hellbent on winning.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The Great Seven must have grown tired of your prayers to survive the Cross-Country run. You’d had your hands clasped together all morning begging them to fill you with some divine stamina.

In the dining hall, dozens of students from your gym class had overflowed their plates with protein in preparation for the big event. But their discussions all seemed to point towards the same question:

What was the point in running at all?

Winning was out of the question. Especially against Jack and Vil whom ran for fun and had physiques like marble statues. The pair were nowhere to be seen at breakfast. No doubt they were already warming up on the field.

•~•~•

Your gym kit clung to your skin. The race hadn’t even started yet but you were dripping with sweat. Vargas had chosen to host the run on the hottest day of the year.

Was it too late to fake an injury?

“Take your marks!” Vargas raised the start pistol high into the air. After quickly checking no one was on a broom- BANG! You were off.

A few souls were stupid enough to sprint ahead, but were soon overtaken by those going at a steady pace.

Your heart trembled in your chest. Lactic acid gnawed at your muscles, begging you to stop. But once you’d gotten over the first bout of exhaustion, you settled into a steady jog. Others were beginning to find their rhythm, too, and soon the race became spaced out.

•~•~•

Unkempt grass ticked your ankles, birds twittered in trees; making bets amongst themselves on which runner would beat whom. A dainty breeze glided across your boiling skin and kindly chilled it. You almost forgot you were on a run at all.

Is this how Jack and Vil feel when they run? you wondered. No wonder they did it for fun. Jogging through the countryside was blissful. Your leisurely pace had probably put you at the back by now, but you didn’t care.

“Don’t drag your feet as much, you might hurt your ankle.”

You jumped and spun around, colliding straight into Jack Howl. You couldn’t believe it. Surely the wolf beastman ought to have been miles ahead of you. Did that mean you weren’t as bad as thought?

“Thanks,” you squeaked, pushing yourself off his chest. The two of you settled back into a rhythm after exchanging awkward apologies. “Why are you so far behind?” you asked. “Don’t you do ten laps of the school before breakfast every day.”

“We’re not passed the halfway point yet.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Vil and I have a bet to see who’ll win. Even though I’m a beastman that exercises a lot, I’m not immune to the fact if I over-exert myself I’ll bonk out. It’s best to go slow for 95% of a marathon, and then burn everything you’ve got left at the end.”

“If we’re not even at 50% I don’t see how I’ll even see 95% of this through.”

“And at 10%, when the lactic acid kicks in, no one can imagine getting to 50%. Yet here we are.”

Jack slicked his hair back from his scalp. His muscles glistened with sweat as his chest rose and fell like a powerful engine. There was certainly something about the strongest kid at school subtly reassuring you that made you want to see this through to the end. Even if you weren’t in contest with anyone, the determination to prove Jack’s words weren’t wasted was enough to spur you on.

•~•~•

The morning ticked by and you hadn’t seen anyone for most of it. The occasional students you passed were walking and chatting. Regardless of how much Jack barked at them to at least try and run the whole thing, he was shrugged off.

“They could be worse,” you said, running a little faster to keep from getting scolded yourself. “During cross-country at my old school these boys parked their cars at checkpoints around the course. Whenever a teacher was coming, they’d brake and run to a different car. They were caught in the end and we made to do the whole race again in the pouring rain days later.”

Jack clamped his lips together. Had you upset him? Had you opened yourself up to receive a lecture on those boys’ behalf? His face contorted as if pressure was building inside it. Then, to your relief, his mouth burst open with a booming laugh. 

“Serves them right!”

You would have laughed too had you not smelled musty perfume on the air. Vil Schoenheit suddenly came running up behind you. His stride, his breathing, the way his sleeves were rolled up to his toned biceps, was perfect. You’d forgotten how powerful the man was under his dainty exterior. “Kick it into high gear now, Jack,” he said, picking up the pace. “The finish line’s practically a stone’s throw away.”

“Go on!” You clapped Jack on the back. 

Jack didn’t need to be told twice. Without taking his eyes off his competition he picked up his knees and started running. It was incredible. How did he have the strength to do that? Vil’s shoulders tensed at Jack’s heavy footsteps crushing the grass behind him.

You didn’t want to miss a second of their silent fight.

Somehow, you had a little bit of stamina left. Jack and Vil were neck and neck. When one pulled forward, the other pushed themselves to catch up. They seemed like perfect counterbalances, forever exchanging strength from one to another so they never lost their flow.

You were so absorbed in what you saw that you hadn’t noticed your shoelaces had come undone. Jack had been right. You shouldn’t have dragged your feet so much. If you had listened, maybe you wouldn’t have tripped on them. Maybe you wouldn’t have fallen over. Maybe you wouldn’t have heard your ankle click.

Pain shot up your leg. You screamed.

Jack’s ears twitched. He spun around and froze at the sight of you writhing on the grass. Vil’s less sensitive ears didn’t seem to hear you. And if they did, he ignored you and kept powering ahead. Jack was caught at a cross roads.

Ever since turning up in Twisted Wonderland the likes of Jack Howl was the last kind of person you’d expected to befriend. He was - quite literally - a lone wolf, with physical fitness and sporting prowess being his key motivations. Despite being a part of your first-year squad, his commitment to exercise was what kept him from mingling with you and the others the most.

Still, you clung to the hope he’d help you. 

Jack turned and ran after Vil again. 

You weren’t sure what you were crying over: the pain in your ankle, or the fact you’d been left like a wounded horse to fend for itself. You tried to focus on the fact you wanted Jack to win. It took your mind off it, a little. Friends supported each other, right? You didn’t want him to fail because of you. 

•~•~•

“UNLEASH THE BEAST!”

You turned towards the sudden cry and saw a cloud with paws bounding towards you. Now you’d definitely gone mad from the heat. It looked like a shaggy sheep. A sheep with sharp teeth. And fur. Whatever it was you couldn’t get away from it. You were too tired to even scream. 

Once the beast was upon you it immediately shimmied its snout under your back and shook its shoulders to ease you onto its hide.

Fur, soft as silk, stroked your clammy face. You felt like a cygnet in its mother’s eiderdown. Satisfied about how it had positioned you, the wolf took off at a leisurely pace. You winced and seethed, but your noises were always met with the wolf looking back to check on you.

Before long, you reached the finish line.

Most of the students were already there, laying on the grass with increasingly reddening skin. Vil was one of the few still standing. He stood with his arms crossed and head cocked back in triumph.

“Turning into your wolf form, Jack?” said Mr Vargas, looking up from his clipboard. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to run the whole thing again for cheatin- Oh.”

Jack knelt down. You were resting peacefully on his back…and how could you not have fallen asleep against such fluffy trapeziuses?

Vargas looked you over and sighed at your ankle. It had turned purple. If it wasn’t broken it was definitely sprained nastily. “Perhaps I’ll make an exception for this then. Everyone! Hit the showers! See you again tomorrow for flying class.”

While Vargas went off to get his first-aid kit, Jack busied himself by taking your shirt collar in his mouth and laying you down flat on the grass. He made sure to keep your ankle elevated on his back. The pain woke you up and he whined in apology.

A mere glance into the wolf’s eyes and you knew who it was immediately. “Jack?”

He chuffed affirmatively.

You couldn’t stop your smile. Did you seriously mean enough to someone in this world that they would sacrifice their pride just to make sure you were alright? The very thought made the tears flow.

Vargas came back with a pep in his step that put you at ease. Surely a bad injury wouldn’t make your teacher happy. “It’s a good thing it’s flying class tomorrow, (Y/N),” he said heartily. “Whether you have a broken ankle or a broken neck, you can still fly a broomstick.”

Or not.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Author note:

What’s this? 2 fan fictions in 2 days? Que!?

Yeah ^^” I’m back on the old horse by the looks of things.

Truth is that I’ve caught COVID and have not spent a second away from my computer over the last 4 days. It’s definitely an ideal time to get stuck in with writing. I hope you like this one :) I haven’t written a fic on Jack as one of the protagonists before!

[louisupdates]

After a series of big signings last year including Louis Tomlinson, 5 Seconds Of Summer and Craig David, BMG is set for another strong performance in 2022.

So far this year, the company has already announced a big deal with Rita Ora, as BMG continues to attract stars previously signed to major labels. Following albums with Columbia and EMI, Miles Kane recently released his first album with BMG, while Johnny Marr’s LP on the label is out this month.

The company’s roster has expanded along with its streaming presence. BMG maintained its 1.3% market share on Track Streams in 2021, according to Official Charts Company data. The company registered 1.64 billion streams, a 4% year-on-year increase.

“We're really pleased with the growth in our streaming business in ’21,” said Gemma Reilly-Hammond, BMG label co-head and vice president of marketing. “It was definitely something that was a key strategic objective for us to do.

“We’ve really strengthened our streaming team. James Farrelly joined us [from Marathon Artists, as director of streaming], which was a great hire, he's been brilliant, along with Simon Rugg [senior streaming manager] who was with us already, he’s also brilliant. They have done a great job of strategising and mapping out the plans. So it's down to roster and strategy, and I think both have come together beautifully actually. “

“We’re really pleased with how we're working with the DSPs, we've got a much firmer footing than we've ever had,” she added. “We're seeing some great results, not just in terms of volume of streams, but also editorial support across all the DSP partners. So yeah, we had a really good year and took a massive leap forward, I would say, on streaming last year.”

BMG had success on DSPs from launch with KSI, as well as growing Kylie Minogue’s streaming business since her signing.

“Kylie has been amazing,” said Reilly-Hammond. “Disco versus Golden, in terms of the streaming, has shown remarkable growth. We’re so happy with the streaming results, it just keeps going and going. The global footprint that's now been carved out - again - for Kylie is phenomenal.

“What we're really pleased with is that we're not just seeing growth in streams, we're seeing very meaningful growth in followers as well. The core audience and the engaged audience has grown dramatically for Kylie on Disco. So we're exceptionally happy with that too. We’re seeing lots of growth across all the key metrics for numerous projects. So we figure that we're doing something right there.”

Reilly-Hammond confirmed that BMG will continue to build the roster with signings in 2022, following a series of big deals last year.

“We’re ambitious,” she told Music Week, highlighting the impact of Duran Duran. In October, the band peaked at No.3 in the UK with Future Past, which has sales to date of 36,160.

“Similarly to Kylie, what we've achieved with Duran Duran and how that's evolved, the results we've seen from that across the world we're really pleased with,” said Reilly-Hammond. “We've had some really strong successes with more to come.”

BMG’s eye-catching signings last year included two global pop acts who are now independent following spells with major labels: Louis Tomlinson (formerly with Syco/Sony Music) and 5 Seconds Of Summer (Universal Music’s Capitol).

“We've started on 5 Seconds Of Summer, we’ve kicked that off already,” said Reilly-Hammond. “We put an anniversary track out in December, which marked their 10-year anniversary. It's a track that went out to fans, and then we'll look to kick everything off fully a bit later this year.”

“We can't wait for Louis [Tomlinson], it’s a really significant signing for us, we're looking forward to bringing that out in the world. So we’ve got lots ahead of us.”

Following a highly successful spell at Insanity, Craig David has now moved to BMG. Ahead of the album, 22, released on May 13, Craig David’s MNEK collaboration Who You Are has peaked at No.39. It has so far spent 12 weeks on the chart (107,930 sales - Official Charts Company).

“Craig is a big one for this year,” said Reilly-Hammond. “Who You Are, the track that we put out last year, has just been really sticky. It's just stuck around and has been performing really well for us. So it's a really good indicator of what's coming and for the album in May. Craig and his management team are fantastic to work with. So we're enjoying that one very much.”

[pastelxmelx]

✰︎ endless time ~ S.R.

⤷ a/n: here’s my very first attempt at Spencer Reid angst haha

- working on part 2 as we speak

⤷ pairing: spencer reid x reader

⤷ word count: 1.5k

⤷ summary: your past is gone and your future is with Spencer. oh how nice it is to have endless time with the one you love. until you don’t.

⤷ genre: angst

⤷ warnings: stabbing, gun shots, life-threatening injury, let me know if i missed anything!

     Everything was great with Spencer. You’d never been happier. Your life wasn’t the most joyful before, but joining the BAU and meeting him? It was exactly what you needed. Your relationship wasn’t perfect, no one’s was. But, it was as close as it was going to get. You didn’t fight often, and when you did you were quick to make up. You stuck by each other no matter what you were put through. Whether it be Spencer’s substance abuse, or the death of one of your close friends. Your relationship was truly a partnership, as you were able to work together so in sync that it only helped you while at work, instead of causing problems.

     On your weekends you’d have Star Trek or Doctor Who marathons. He’d make the popcorn and you’d run out to buy soda, then you’d both spend the next several hours cuddled up next to each other on the couch. After one of your cases, Spencer had grown a liking for pianos, so you took the chance to teach him what you knew, it was yet another hobby the two of you had together. Of course, working for the BAU didn’t leave much freetime for the two of you to indulge in your hobbies. But that would never put much of a strain on your relationship.

     When you were at work, the both of you were always sure to separate your relationship from the task at hand. While working on cases, you were more of a team than a couple. With Spencer, everything flowed so smoothly, time included. We’re always told that we never truly appreciate what we have until we lose it. When you were with Spencer, you both couldn’t help but feel like you truly had all the time in the world, like you had endless time. That was what made it hurt the worst.

     The team had been called out to Arizona to work on a fairly routine case. The unsub was abducting young women, and the profile suggested that he was a white man in his late thirties. You, Emily, and Spencer were at the station, he had finished working the geographic profile and was helping the two of you sort through leads with Penelope. Derek and JJ had gone to talk to the family of the latest victim, and Hotch and Rossi were talking to a potential witness to one of the abductions

     “Talk to me sugar,” Penelope said as she picked up the phone. “My brilliance is at your service.”

     You smiled, “Hey love, can you find out how many gyms there are within a 20 mile radius of the first abduction site? We think that may be where the unsub is finding his victims.”

     “Sure thing! There are three, anything you want me to look for to narrow that down?” she asked.

     “Can you check to see if any of them had programs designed to get people in shape for an event of some sort?”, Emily added.

     “Mhm! Oh, that only got rid of one,” Penelope said in a slightly dejected tone. “Anything else?”

     “Do either of the gyms have high drop-out rates? We think the unsub might be choosing from them,” Spencer said.

     “Hm, they’re both about the same. But! ForeverFitness is known for having a much rigorous program,” she answered.

     “Could you pull up a list of their employees?” you ask her, already knowing the answer she’d give you.

     “Can I? Don’t tell me you’re starting to doubt my magical abilities. It’s already pulled up, sweet sauce.”

     “Narrow it down to only the males,” Spencer told her. “We’re looking for someone in his late thirties who’d have access to a list of everyone who signed up for those programs.”

     “Got it! Hm, I still have a list of about 30 employees,” Penelope said after only a few moments.

     “That many? Do any of them have any complaints filed against them? Maybe something like harassing a gym member, or lashing out at a co-worker, or such?” you specified.

     “Also try looking for anyone who might’ve been suspended, or even someone who’s almost been fired,” Emily added.

     “Aha! I think I’ve got the guy you’re looking for! One Thomas Iverson, he has three complaints filed against him, all from different patrons, and one from a female co-worker. The work related one is for sexual harassment, though it was dropped soon after, and the other three were for aggression. He’s been suspended twice in the past year, but hasn’t been fired, probably because his boss is a family friend,” she explained.

     “Penny you’re a genius, do you have an address?” you asked, glad that you might have finally found the killer after such a tough week.

     “Tell me something I don’t know,” she said proudly, “and you bet I do, it’s already been sent to all of your phones!”

     “You’re the best,” Emily said, getting an ‘i know’ in response. You hung up and called Hotch to let him know what the three of you had found out. He told you to go check it out, and that he’d call Derek and JJ and that they’d all meet you there if Iverson turned out to be the unsub.

     The three of you arrived at the house, only to find that it was empty. You were looking through all of the rooms, and everything was going normally. If you didn’t find him, you’d try a different angle. And if you did, you’d take him in to hopefully close the case. If you found him, though. None of you were prepared for what would happen if he found you. None of you had even considered it. And yet, he did. The three of you had separated as you searched the house, and once you’d made it upstairs you’d spotted a moving figure.

     Before heading towards it you called out, “Guys, I think I have something.” You wanted to alert Spencer and Emily to get them to come upstairs, but you didn’t want Iverson to know that you’d spotted him specifically. You heard footsteps coming from downstairs, and knew they were on their way, so you slowly began to approach the room with your gun pointed ahead. “Iverson?” you said. “I’m with the FBI, put your hands up and step out where I can see you.”

     You entered the room, but before you had the time to process what was happening, you felt something sharp in your abdomen. Then the same pain appeared a few inches above, and a few inches to the side from that. You’d been stabbed three times. The next thing you heard before collapsing was a single gunshot, and your teammates calling out for you. You were conscious, but just barely. Not to mention the incredible pain that you were in. Iverson was dead, and you were soon to be next.

     You weren’t sure who it was, but one of them was trying to put pressure over your wounds. Was it working? That was something else that you weren’t sure of. You were teetering on the edge of consciousness, and whoever was with you was urging you to keep your eyes open. The ambulance was here, that’s what you were told. But, did that mean that everything was going to be okay? The ambulance was here, but did that mean that you were saved? Or was it too late? Maybe you’d find out, or maybe you wouldn’t.

     You couldn’t tell exactly what was happening, though you could tell that you were being moved around so you guessed that you were being placed into the ambulance. Someone was holding your hand, it must’ve been Spencer. Your eyes had closed, and you couldn’t find the strength to open them again. That didn’t have to be a bad sign though, you could still make it out of this alive. You were as calm as you could be. Maybe it wasn’t too late after all.

     Spencer, on the other hand, was in a full on panic. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to handle losing you. Not like this, not in any way. As Emily was trying to keep you from bleeding out, he was on the phone with Hotch who had assured him that paramedics were on their way. Sitting in the ambulance with you gave him some relief, as he was able to hold onto the hope that you’d live.

     But, his fear was still there, and it was still overwhelming. Sitting in the waiting room didn’t help his feeling of helplessness. You were rushed into surgery as soon as you got into the building, and there was nothing left for him to do. Nothing other than sitting down, waiting, and hoping you were alright.

     And you had to be alright. You just had to. After all, the two of you were supposed to have endless time.

[cyberbackerph]

Cyberbacker VS Virtual Assistant

I know you’re reading this because you want to look into the buzz of what seems to be a great addition to the economy in this generation of booming businesses and rising entrepreneurs. I’m also thinking you’re here because you want to choose convenience. By this, I mean, no commute, working in your sweats and being with your families. I know. I heard you. That’s what this is all about. Read along. Trust me, you’ll get what you’re looking for.

It’s safe to say that at this point we’re all aware of what virtual assistants do since there has been a surge of popularity for this kind of job.  At this point, it’s time to get you introduced to Cyberbackers and what we’re capable of.

Just like any other VA, we provide the same kind of services. However, there are some considerations you would need to know that would eventually make you want to be a Cyberbacker.

Filling in Gaps: Never be jobless again

“It’s like a difference with those who run in a marathon between a sprinter and a pacer. So sprinters are going to run hard, walk for a few miles, run hard, and walk for a couple more. While a pacer is consistent, on track, and they know exactly where they’re going to end up,” says our CyberAmo, Craig Goodliffe.

With that said, this is exactly the kind of comparison we want you to end up realizing. As a virtual assistant, you could be unsure of your direction, considering that many of them work as contractors with and, if unfortunate, no security in contracts. But as Cyberbackers, you are provided with all the assistance you need from pairing you up with your first client to your next. Cyberbackers know where their money is coming from, they know who their clients are, and they have a plan. If for some reason that client left the business or the agreement of the partnership ended, you still get to keep your job and expect a new contract without thinking of where you’d get your next client. That’s how proactive our company is.

Learn and Earn: Attend free training courses

In Cyberbacker, the learning never stops. We want you to process additional knowledge, and gain a new set of expertise because we don’t want to limit your capabilities. We take in people in the company because we saw potential, and we’re not stopping you from progressing with it, instead, we want you to foster, this time, as a leader. So we provide FREE training programs that help you manage tasks and go beyond your client’s needs. Whereas independent virtual assistants pay to take up these kinds of programs. Of course, paid training courses are investments, but this is already a great factor to consider because let’s face it… what we want here is to find the most practical way possible to lessen our expenses and increase our income.

This time…

I want you to think things over. I know and believe I’ve given you enough thought as to how great it is to be one of us. You don’t want to be a virtual assistant. You want to be a Cyberbacker, and there’s a big difference. We know you know it. All you need to do is to start with us NOW!

[thebookreader12345]

Unexpected

Pairing: Blake Gallo x reader

Summary: Y/N tells Blake some news he didn’t expect to hear, and the way he reacts makes her regret saying anything in the first place. But when Y/N is in an accident, he has to rethink his future

Requested: No

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and severe injuries, slight reference to abortion/adoption

Word Count: 2,341 Words

The whole firehouse was standing outside, sign at the ready. Blake was doing a 13 mile run today, and he was going to pass the firehouse any second now. He was even running in full PPE gear to raise awareness for cancer in firemen. I was bundled in my coat, and a beanie was resting on my head.

“Here he comes! Hold up the banner!” Stella shouted. Her along with a few others held the up banner they had made with the words “Go! Gallo! Go!” written on it. That’s when Gallo arrived, and when he saw the banner, a smile graced his lips. I cheered louder than the rest of the firehouse because Blake also happened to be my boyfriend, and I was really proud of him for doing this.

“You’ve got this babe!” I cheer. Blake then began jogging over in my direction, and when he reached me, he pulled me in for a kiss. I cupped his cheeks with my hands, and I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. His whole face had a reddish tint to it, possibly because he was running 13 miles in full gear, but it made him look adorable. “I love you,” I tell Blake as he pulled away.

“Love you too,” Blake replied before going off to continue his run. As Blake ran off, I suddenly felt a bit dizzy. I grabbed onto Ritter, who was closest to me, and he caught me in his arms as I sort of collapsed.

“Y/N! You okay?” Sylvie asked as Ritter wrapped an arm around me to keep me steady.

“I-I’m fine. Just got a bit dizzy,” I answer.

“You, fainted, Y/N. That’s not normal. Come on. We’re going to take you to Med,” Emily spoke and took me from Ritter’s arms. Her and Sylvie got me into the ambulance, and then we started the drive to Med. Thankfully, they didn’t put the sirens on, because I didn’t want to cause a scene over nothing. At the hospital, I was put into a trauma room, and a few minutes later, Dr. Manning walked in.

“Hey, Y/N. I heard you kind of fainted earlier. Everything okay?” Natalie questioned.

“I just got dizzy for a moment. I’m sure it was nothing,” I respond.

“Okay, but I want to run a few tests just to be sure. We’ll get you out of here as soon as possible,” Natalie told me. After about 2 hours, Natalie came back, meaning my tests were done. “Okay, so your blood pressure was a very low earlier. Have you eaten anything today?”

“I had a granola bar earlier, but before I could eat breakfast, we got a call,” I explain.

“Well, you’re going to need to be more on top of your eating now that you’re eating for two,” Natalie informed me.

“I-I’m sorry. What did you just say?” I ask.

“One of the tests detected hCG in your blood. It means that you’re pregnant. 6 weeks,” Natalie clarified. “So, who’s the lucky guy? Would it happen to be Blake Gallo, the very man standing right outside?”

“He’s out there? Please tell me he can’t hear us from out there,” I plead.

“Uh, no. He can’t hear us. Is there something wrong, Y/N?” Natalie quizzed.

I didn’t answer her, and instead asked another question. “Is it okay for me to go?”

“Sure. But Y/N, I think that you’ll be a great mother, and if Blake loves you as much as I believe he does, then he’s going to ecstatic,” Natalie confessed.

“Yeah. Sure. Bye, Nat,” I say and leave the room, only to bump into Blake.

“Hey. I got a call from Ritter saying that Brett and Foster were taking you to Med, so as soon as I finished the marathon I came straight here,” Blake said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I didn’t eat much today, so my blood pressure was low. That’s why I fainted. Nothing else is wrong,” I lie. “Can we get going?”

“Yeah. Of course. We can stop by the firehouse to get your stuff and then we can head to my place,” Blake answered.

“Actually, can you just drop me off at my apartment?” I question.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re looking a bit pale,” Blake exclaimed.

“I’m fine. I just want to get some sleep,” I murmur. Blake nodded and led me out to his car, and after we grabbed my stuff from the firehouse, he dropped me off at my apartment. I wanted to get some sleep, but all I could think about was the life growing inside of me, and how I would eventually have to tell Blake and everyone else. I should probably do it sooner than later, considering I had a dangerous profession, but part of me didn’t want to say anything. Blake and I had only been together a few months, and I didn’t want to ruin our relationship. At my next shift, the day was pretty slow. We hadn’t had any calls, which was unusual seeing as we were the busiest house. All I wanted to do was be alone, so I went into the gear closet and sat on the floor. After sitting there for a few minutes, I suddenly began to cry. I couldn’t help myself. It felt like my life was falling apart by the second. That’s when the door to the closet opened, and in walked Blake Gallo, the person I didn’t want to see.

“Hey,” Blake mumbled and crouched down in front of me. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry,” I sob as more tears fell from my eyes.

“Sorry for what?” Blake asked and used his thumbs to wipe the tears from my face. “You haven’t done anything wrong?” This caused more tears to escape, and I could see worry painted all over Blake’s features. I didn’t want to have to do this now, but I knew deep down that I had to. Blake needed to know.

“Blake, I’m pregnant,” I state.

“W-what?” Blake questioned.

“When I was at Med the other day, Natalie ran a few tests to make sure that nothing was seriously wrong with me, and she discovered that I was pregnant. I should have told you sooner, but I couldn’t bring myself to,” I disclose. Blake sat down across from me, and I could tell he was thinking about something from the look on his face. He was probably trying to figure out when this had happened, but I already knew. Natalie said that I was 6 weeks pregnant, and around 6-7 weeks ago, things got heated between Blake and I after a night at Molly’s. We were both so drunk that we forgot to use protection. It soon got to the point where Blake’s silence scared me, so I spoke up. “Can you say something? Please.”

“What do you want me to say?” Blake asked.

“I don’t know. Anything would be nice,” I exclaim.

“Well, I don’t have much to say. Excuse me,” Blake murmured and stood up before exiting the closet. At that moment, my whole world came crashing down. Blake had just walked out without saying a word, which basically meant he didn’t want to deal with a child. And how the hell was I supposed to do this on my own? Of course, there was always adoption or..... I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I couldn’t even think about it. I sighed and wiped the tears from my eyes, and once I felt ready, I exited the closet. That afternoon, we got a call about a house fire. Upon arriving at the scene, Casey was already doling out orders.

“L/N, you and I are going to examine the second floor and check for victims,” Matt ordered. I nodded and put my helmet on my head. As I went to walk towards the house, Blake grabbed a hold of my arm to stop me. I shook him off and continued walking towards the house, placing my mask on before heading inside. Flames were raging around us, and even through my gear, I could feel the heat. Matt then walked up the stairs with me following behind him. Smoke was gathering on the ceiling of every room, and it was getting hard to see. As we got to the second floor, we discovered a woman crawling towards the doors. “Ma’am, you’ve got to get out of here,” Matt demanded.

“I can’t,” the woman protested. “My husband. I think he’s still inside.”

“I’ll find him,” I tell Matt. “You get her outside.”

“Are you sure?” Matt asked me.

I nodded. “I’ve got this.” Matt then helped the woman up, and they made their way back downstairs. I poked my head into the first door, and looked around. “Fire Department! Call out!” No one answered, and it didn’t look like anyone was in there, so I moved onto the room down the hall. Just then, Boden came over the radio.

“L/N, get out of there! The place is about to blow!” Boden exclaimed.

“Just a minute, Chief. There could be another victim in here,” I reply and enter the next room, which had fire raging everywhere. As I stepped inside, the ceiling above me hissed, and seconds later, wooden beams and other materials fell from above. I moved out of the way just in time, but the bad news was that the doorway was now covered, and there was no way out. I looked around as the fire spread, hoping to find something that could get me out of here, and that’s when I saw the paint cans everywhere. This room was being remodeled. Just my luck because paint was highly flammable. At that moment, the fire reached the paint cans, and I had to make a split second decision. I ran at the window and threw myself into the glass, causing it to easily shatter. I flew from the second story just as the explosion went off behind me, sending flames out of every window in the house. I was in the air for a few seconds, and then came the fall. I hit the ground hard on my side, sending waves of pain through my body. Seconds later, I was being surrounded by my fellow co-workers.

“Y/N!” Matt shouted and removed my mask from my face. “Brett! Foster! We need some help over here!” My vision started going in and out as the pain became stronger. My whole body felt heavy, and I felt paralyzed. There was nothing I could do but sit here and take it. The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was the face of Blake Gallo.

Blake’s POV

Y/N’s head fell limp as I reached her, and I was immediately filled with worry. Brett and Foster ran over to us with their supplies, and Matt and I helped them slide the backboard under Y/N before lifting her up onto the gurney. 

“I’m thinking possible broken hip, maybe some internal bleeding. We need to get her to Med now,” Sylvie spoke and placed a breathing mask over Y/N’s face.

“What about the baby?” I question.

“Baby? What baby?” Emily asked.

“Y/N’s pregnant,” I tell them. The ride to the hospital was chaos. Y/N wasn’t looking to good, and Sylvie eventually had to intubate her because she wasn’t breathing well enough. Sylvie said that was likely from a broken rib that may have punctured a lung. The whole ride, all I could think about was the baby. I had reacted badly when Y/N first told me, and I didn’t want her to think I didn’t care. When we got her the hospital, Will Halstead met us at the door.

“You have to save her, man. You have to save both of them,” I exclaim.

“Gallo, I will do everything I can to make sure her and the baby are safe,” Will confessed as he rolled her gurney into one of the empty trauma rooms.

Y/N’s POV

When I woke up, I felt a bit groggy. Like I had just woken up from a very deep sleep. I felt a bit of pain, but it was mostly muted down. I groaned and opened my eyes to see that I was in a hospital room. That’s when I remembered the fall, and I started freaking out a bit. Was the baby okay? Will then entered the room with his chart.

“I’m glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?” Will asked.

“I’m fine. How’s the baby?” I question.

“The baby is fine. It’s almost a miracle. That fall should have caused you more severe injuries,” Will explained. I let out a breath that I didn’t even know I was holding in. I was so grateful that the baby was okay. “Gallo is waiting outside. You want me to send him in?”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “I need to talk to him.” Will nodded and left the room, and seconds later, Blake walked in.

“Hey,” Blake murmured and took a seat in the chair next to my bed.

“Hey. Look, Blake, I know this is unexpected, and you don’t have to agree with me, but uh, I’m keeping the baby,” I inform him.

“That’s great, because I want to keep it too,” Blake responded. “Back at the firehouse, I had no right to leave you in the dark like that. We should have talked things through, and instead I left you alone. I know we’re young, but I love you, and I will love this baby more than anyone else in the world.”

I smiled. “That means a lot, Blake. I’m super scared, but I think we can survive this.”

“Me too. You get some rest, okay?” Blake told me and stood up.

“Actually, can you stay? I don’t want to be alone right now,” I say.

“Of course,” Blake stated and sat down. “And you know, while we’re alone, we could start discussing baby names.”

I laughed. “It’s a bit too early for that, but okay. So, what did you have in mind?”

____________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13​ @anotherfan07​

[anika-ann]

In the Spotlight (S.R)

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader    Word Count: 5050

Summary: The one where Tony pushes Steve into a photoshoot, rubbing his hands and smirking at such action being almost a practical joke; a great way to make Cap squirm for a good cause.

Well, the joke just might turn out to be on him.

Warnings: mention of child cancer patients and disabled kids, Tony being a bit of an ass, attempt at humour, some language

A/N: The idea is a courtesy from a wonderful person, chase-your-dreams-away who always saw Chris’ FILA 2015 photoshoot as Steve showing he actually can pose. Thank you, sweet! This one’s for you!

(gif not mine)

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“Ah, Cap! Just the guy I wanted to see!”

Tony’s voice reached Steve’s ears just as he entered the kitchen after his morning run and shower, his heart skipping a beat, his whole body instantly on alert; he wanted nothing but to spin on his heels and walk right back to where he came from.

It wasn’t that he dreaded to hear there was a mission; that would be fairly alright even if it meant that the world was once again a terrible place with horrible people who needed to be stopped in it. No, Steve’s fright was caused by something else entirely.

You see, living in the Avengers Tower meant spending extended periods of time in Tony Stark’s company. Spending extended periods of time in Tony’s company meant that one would learn how to recognize certain situations; Steve could easily tell when the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist had pulled an all-nighter in his lab, when he was in a long-term fight with Pepper, when he was annoyed, when he was delighted.

And this right here, the ‘Just the guy I wanted to see!’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully excited, beaming in a manner that told Steve that his friend was about to revel in the discomfort he was about to cause to him.

God help him.

Steve forced himself to continue walking, a tight mile on his lips.

“Morning to you too, Tony. What’s the matter?”

The man behind the legendary Ironman suit blatantly wiggled a finger at Steve, smirking; a clear sign that he already had his coffee, possibly with two shots of espresso.

“Morning. Glad you asked. You’re free in the afternoon, right?—Yeah, I already checked the agenda you keep with Jarvis-“ Make that three shots of espresso. Also, incredibly RUDE. But guess that what one gets when living in a building ran by an artificial intelligence. “-so I set up an appointment like four weeks ago-“

Steve shook his head, raising his hand in attempt to stop the rapid fire of words coming out of Tony’s mouth.

“Tony, hold on a second-“

“What?” the billionaire snapped, frowning. He hated being interrupted.

“First of all, I don’t have to share all my plans with Jarvis-“

“But you do. Sorry to break it to you, but you have no social life to keep under wraps.” Ruder. “…or do you have a hot date today?”

Steve was so embarrassed and so frustrated with the man that he was tempted to say yes just because. To make a point. But from the two men in the room, he was the less petty one, so he told him the truth.

“Well, no-“

“See? No problem here-“

“Yes there is!” Steve protested, crossing his arms on his chest as anger started to build there. “I could have had plans! You need to consult things with me! It’s about principle!”

Tony eyed Steve, unimpressed, his right brow arched. “Really? Principle? We’re gonna go there? I don’t think so. Aren’t you curious what the appointment is about?”

Steve sighed exasperatedly, so not done with the conversation Tony so carelessly dismissed, but he in fact was curious, wanting to be prepared for whatever insanity the man came up with.

Tony planning stuff usually equalled Pepper planning stuff, or both of them together, except Pepper had a habit of asking first before confirming the plans and setting appointments. Also, plans by Pepper usually equalled PR. Steve wasn’t too fond of PR stuff, genuinely hating shaking hands with politicians with smiles as fake as their election slogans.

“What’s the appointment about, Tony?” Steve asked to humour his not-exactly-a-friend-at-the-moment.

Tony smirked once again, a hint of mischief flashing in his dark irises.

“Feeling pretty today, Rogers?”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up, his muscles tensing; that sounded even worse than he had imagined.

“Huh?”

“Cause you’re gonna promote a new sports collection. You better start posing in front of the mirror to get your head in the game,” he mocked lightly, just as Steve predicted, basking in the horror that overtook Steve’s very being along with utter disbelief.

“What? Why?”

Steve did not enjoy being photographed. It usually involved ‘striking a pose’ or whatever the kids called it these days and once again, strained insincere smiles. Yeah, he was more than alright to take a picture with a fan if they were a kid who looked up to him. But other than that? Ugh.

“Come on! Lighten up, Rogers! It’s for charity!” Tony called out, stepping closer to pat Steve’s bicep. “Uh-huh, firm, good.”

Please let me leave, Steve begged the heavens, unsure if Tony was actually fawning over his muscles – serum-induced and supported by hard work, thank you very much – or if he was mocking Steve again.

“But seriously, it’s for charity that deals with enabling the disabled kids to do sports, any kind that’s possible with their impairment really. From some sort of a football to marathons or archery or whatever. It’s for a good thing.”

Steve felt the tension in his shoulders partly subdue, relaxing a bit. For one, that did sound like a good cause and for two, there was a barely noticeable change in Tony’s voice, just a little waver in his tone, giving away that for all the smirking and nudging and shit-talking, the genius cared for people and had a heart. Having a heart - Tony Stark’s most heavily guarded secret.

Steve sighed, his previously lost appetite returning.

“Alright, Tony. Where, when and what do I need to do?”

The other man patted his bicep again, this time in a truly friendly manner and grinned. “I’ll let Jarvis give you the details. You just try not to screw it up. Seriously, train how to smile in front of a mirror or something. Some poses, whatever. The photographer looks pretty good – not just professionally, if you know what I mean-“

Steve couldn’t help the eyeroll at the remark, one that was followed by Tony’s scandalized insulted gasp as he slowly made his leave, gesturing.

“-so I guess you don’t have to worry… much. Not sure if there will be trunks involved. Or a speedo. So, you know, keep it in your pants and don’t look anywhere I wouldn’t… which isn’t leaving much-“

“Bye, Tony,” Steve called after him, resisting the urge to childishly cover his ears just so he wouldn’t have to listen to the dirty teasing.

“What, it’s a valid concern we don’t want a lawsuit form her--“

“Go before I rattle you out to Pepper,” Steve grunted and at that, the genius grimaced and swiftly disappeared in the doorway.

Steve once again sighed and decided that he might need a bit more carbs in his breakfast than originally planned just so he survived today.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

You weren’t kidding anyone – you were a teeny tiny bit nervous. Your career had been rather colourful, you dipped your fingers in many kinds of photography and you still enjoyed the diversity, the various pictures of beauty – and there was a lot of beauty in the world to be captured – still calling out to you.

You had met famous people before too and you always managed… but Captain America was a whole new level of a challenge. You were feeling equal parts worried and damn lucky for being picked for the job; a job you wouldn’t get a penny for. Shooting a thing like this for charity with a name as great as Steve Rogers, that wasn’t about money – not quick one at least. It was about prestige.  

On the other hand, you would get almost any props you’d think of, within reason, of course – just saying a word was enough. And you had a few, images already painted in your head as you read on Steven Grant Rogers a bit more, got a good look on pictures online, and obviously, saw the collection.

Thinking about it, maybe it was him who should be scared, because excitement was the leading emotion of yours for while now.

You saw him arrive, the chatter about it instantly spreading like fire. And honestly? He did look a bit spooked, so you took the liberty to knock on the room he was provided with, the stylists already in.

“Come in!” sounded from the inside and you took a deep breath, poking your head in – and deciding that entering fully was more polite since you were about to introduce yourself.

“Good afternoon,” you greeted him, only a showing a smidge of nerves on the outside, you hoped.

As you offered your name, the blond man – built like a tank, a very handsome tank, with the sweetest inviting smile and bright eyes – rose from his seat immediately, holding out a hand to shake, introducing himself as well as if it was necessary. It was a nice sentiment, however.

“Please, call me Steve. Something tells me that formalities would only get in the way,” he said with a slight curve to his lips and you felt yourself relax right away. He’d be excellent to work with. Now you really couldn’t wait.

“Then you must call me by my name too. Thank you for suggesting it,” you accepted delightfully, eyeing the pair of stylists you had met before on similar projects; this kind of business was all about knowing the right people. You nodded at them, grinning. “Now, Steve, I have a very important mission for you.”

The captain’s eyebrows jumped at your wording – and at your teasing. You scolded yourself lightly for your choice of words, unwittingly nudging him towards the wrong headspace. You didn’t need a soldier now, quite the opposite.

“Oh?”

“I need you to tell these two lovely people what amount of make-up and what hairstyle you’re comfortable with,” you explained, earning a slightly confused tilt of Steve’s head. “Sure, I have a certain visual in my head, I’m sure they have too.” You exchanged a knowing look with them. “But most of all I need you to feel good.  If you’re pressured into something you hate, we can’t work any magic there.”

Steve nodded in understanding, stiffly, and you had a hunch that he might have been pressured into this whole thing.

“But please don’t leave on us now,” you added quickly and he huffed a short laugh, bittersweet, letting you know that you were correct in your assumption.

“I won’t leave. But thank you for the tip.”

Gosh, he was so polite and had a subtle air of greatness around him (also known as BD energy these days), you could bask in his presence forever – but you had to work.

“All in days’ work. I’ll see you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Your heart skipped an excited beat when a twinkle appeared in his brilliant blue irises and you were done for.

You really hoped your hands wouldn’t shake; you’d hate for the pictures to be blurry.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Once you were in your own kingdom of wonders, all nerves vanished, only child-like giddiness remaining. However, same couldn’t be said about Steve; he entered the space, fidgeting – not too obviously, but visibly enough – eyes flickering all over the room as if he just arrived to a Wonderland indeed.

If you were being honest, such a hunk of a man appearing so endearingly lost… he was kinda adorable.

You felt the corners of your lips automatically rise at your silly thoughts and at the image of him. Besides adorable, he sure looked hot in the white jacket. Who knew sportwear could look so alluring?

“Looking good here, Steve,” you called out as he approached and upon meeting your eyes, he attempted a smile too – little too apprehensive on the edges for you to believe it was honesty and not sheer professional courtesy. “Clothes feel good?”

You could see his expression melt into pure puzzlement at such question, clearly not having expected it.

“Oh… uhm, yes. Thank you.”

“I meant what I said. I need you to be comfortable, Steve,” you reminded him softly, earning a rather frantic nod.

“I… am.”

You could practically hear the unspoken ‘sort of’. Well, it was a work in progress.

“Little steps. Alright, so… I’m gonna be talking a lot. Cut me off whenever I’ll be getting on your nerves too much, okay? We’ll start with this set-up, with this background, obviously. I need to you to just walk to the centre- good, now turn your head to the left—a bit more… perfect.” Not.

Uh-huh. Probably his first time; you should have figured, though a heads-up would be nice. You should have asked dammit. You chewed on your lower lip, gears in your head spinning wildly as you tried to assess him.

Mm.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

His head snapped back to you in surprise and you couldn’t but chuckle, mock-frowning at him. He realized his mistake and quickly looked away, returning to the pose you had attempted to set him into before – his beautiful profile now dusted with pink.

“The colour?” you encouraged him and started taking photos even if you knew you wouldn’t use them, not with his shoulders so stiff and his expression slightly twisted in confusion still – even if he apparently tried to look natural.

“Uhm, blue.”

His face relaxed a fraction and you smiled to yourself.

“More sky-blue or royal blue or something entirely else?” you continued, not at all surprised when a second later you learned that it was sky-blue.

You thought it might be because of his eyes and you wondered; perhaps his eyes were the only thing that hadn’t changed during the serum transformation. His eyes were last straw to grasp at when his whole body suddenly didn’t feel like his.

Or maybe he was moonlighting as an artist, appreciating all kinds of beauty like you did and knew his stuff.

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t seen colour so well before his transformation and fell in love with the particular shade upon seeing the sky.

“Mm… ever had the time to appreciate the sight of the ocean? Breath-taking blue on the surface, matching the sky, reflecting the sunrays so sharp that it would make one squint—but you don’t, you can’t. Because damn, it’s so beautiful and you can feel the breeze in your hair, almost flowing between your fingers and you just have to keep your eyes open to commit to memory what it looks like, how it feels, the sand between your toes, the sun warm on your skin…”

You babbled on, your heart fluttering at how damn magnificent Steve looked now, gradually relaxing his posture, his eyes softening, the corners of his mouth subtly raised in a smile, not an artificial one, just a soft curve to his lips as he lost himself in a pleasant memory – or a daydream. You had to remind yourself to press the shutter release; it would be too easy to simply watch the man in front of you coming out of his shell, releasing his light and grace for everyone to see.

“Absolutely wonderful, Steve, thank you. Shall we move on?” you praised him softly and his absurdly long lashes fluttered as if he indeed woke up from a dream. He appeared to be a little lost again, but the smile remained on his lips.

“Of course. Where do you want me, ma’am-- I mean-“

“Oh hush!” you interrupted him rudely with a grin. He was too precious for words, resembling a puppy, all soft and loveable and  yet he was somehow so respectable; you’d have to watch yourself just so you wouldn’t fall in love with him in the short time you were given together. “No ma’am, we’ve been over this. Now…”

You instructed him to walk to the wall of a ‘beach house’, half of the background imitating the very beach you had described; you offered him a different jacket and a cap to hold in his hands, the item serving more than one purpose; one was the campaign, the other was to give him something to do with his hands.

For this picture, you had him looking at you, which made you fidget self-consciously for a change; this time, the story you came up with was to put both of you at ease.

At this point, Steve was an open book to you – or, well, open enough. You had done your reading on him a bit, sure, but now you truly started to see his personality – one of your favourite parts of doing photography coming into play.

“Alright. Posture is great. Now, do you often meet kids?”

Steve wasn’t as surprised at the question anymore, replying calmly, but almost without a thought.

“Yeah. We, uh, we sometimes go to the hospitals to make the patients’ day a bit better? It’s such a small thing to do, I know, for an oncological kid, but they are always delighted. And they are so brave, I feel like a—well, like a sucker compared to them.”

“Weren’t you sickly as a kid?” you questioned lowly and Steve’s gaze dropped as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his expression falling.

“Done your reading, huh?”

“The wonders of 21st century and our educational system. But I’m just bringing it up to make a point. I think that you can see them and that’s why they like you visiting so much. Something tells me that you can truly feel what they feel and they sense it – kids can be ridiculously intuitive. Maybe you share, I don’t know of course, but I think that somehow they just know and they see a fellow warrior who beat all the illnesses too. And they look up to you, because you give them hope. And not just sick kids. I bet you met a few kids claiming you’re their favourite superhero just because you have a frisbee.”

He chuckled at that and nodded, but you could see that what you had said before the funny bit touched him and it had been that part that had the desired effect – to pull him back where you wanted him, relaxed and positive.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“You’re not everyone’s hero for nothing, Steve, you’ve done some pretty heroic stuff to begin with. But I think it’s what behind the shield that some people find even more inspiring. Be proud of that too.”

The perfect shot was taken and you couldn’t but recall the quote I once saw a man so beautiful I started crying, because yeah, you could weep now. You quickly stood up and took few more pictures, because it was too good of an opportunity to pass up on.

“And look at you, turning into a model so easily when it comes to helping people, again,” you teased him lightly while being nothing but honest.

As at ease as he appeared now, you’d think he was doing this on a regular basis. As if you hadn’t been trying to coax out his true self out for everyone to see in a simple photo just a few minutes ago.

His hands found their way into the pockets of temporarily his jacket, gaze falling to the floor before his eyes locked onto yours, grateful and gentle.

“I’m pretty sure that’s all you. Thank you for being so patient with me. I thought this would remind me of the old days when I-” He hesitated, blue eyes lightly misted with doubt, so you beckoned for him to continue to speak freely. You’d got into some pretty deep stuff yourself just a moment ago after all. “-when I was a lab experiment to show off.”

You nodded in understanding, even if you couldn’t imagine what was it like; then again, in your early days, you had met enough parents who came to your atelier to show off their trophy children, so this wasn’t exactly a foreign concept.  

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sure that however you hated doing it, you were giving people hope back then too. And it’s not right to reduce person to a symbol, but symbols were and are important. As long as there are people who are able to see beyond the simplification, then I think it’s worth it. Then again, I never was anyone’s dancing monkey, so…” you shrugged, internally cringing at being such a blabbermouth, afraid that you came too far, put Steve off and that he would withdraw back to his shell.

But he didn’t. He gifted you a brilliant smile, one reaching his eyes.

“And all this?” you hummed, vaguely gesturing around, hoping he’d catch on. “I’m glad if you like the way I work, but the pictures? That’s not me, Steve, that’s you. And all I hope for is to show people a little bit more of you, throwing away the shield and letting them see that Steve Rogers is just as radiant.”

The intensity of his gaze now was enough to make your heart stop beating, his expression suddenly unreadable and you quickly covered your mouth, an apology already spilling from your lips.

“I’m so sorry if this made you uncomfortable and I turned into one of the fawning fangirls, that wasn’t my intention. You have to stop me when I get too much-“

“You’re didn’t and you don’t,” he smiled kindly and shook his head, appearing genuine. “I just never met anyone like you. And I mean that in the good way, just to be clear.”

You felt your face burn; because of your TMI talk and his compliment.

“T-thank you,” you stuttered out, causing his smile to turn radiant indeed.

He kept watching you, silent, eyes roaming your face, irises blue and intense—when had he got so close? Or did you walk to him? He was positively prettier upon closer inspection, all sharp edges to his jaw, lips calling out with how damn soft they would be, not to even mention his hair, and oh, was that a drop of green in his eyes? Oh wow, you could drown in that single drop, surrounded by the most enticing shade of blue and--- you closed your eyes and cleared your throat, trying your best to ignore the tingle in your fingertips and in your gut, pleasant warmth in your core-

“We, uhm, we should probably go back to work,” you whispered, licking your lips as you once again glanced at his and you swiftly spun on your heels, desperately trying to remember what shots you wanted to take next and if it was time for him to change already- oh god, you couldn’t possibly handle the thought of him losing clothes…

His expression dimmed a fraction, an epitome of slipping back into politeness. “Of course. Tell me how you need me… ma’am,” he teased, subtle quirk to his lips and you felt your cheeks burn hotter— but your breathing got easier as he was letting you know that you were still alright.

You had a half-mind to call him a soldier in the same manner, but you didn’t want him to slip into that persona.

“Oh, you have no idea what you signed up for, Steven.”

He chuckled, but followed you as you walked to the next scenery.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“What the hell, Rogers?!”

Tony’s voice reached Steve’s ears just as he entered the kitchen after his morning run and shower, his heart skipping a beat, his whole body instantly on alert; he wanted nothing but to spin on his heels and walk right back to where he came from.

Why?

You see, living in the Avengers Tower meant spending extended periods of time in Tony Stark’s company. Spending extended periods of time in Tony’s company meant that one would learn how to recognize certain situations; Steve could easily tell when the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist had pulled an all-nighter in his lab, when he was in a long-term fight with Pepper, when he was annoyed, when he was delighted.

And this right here, the ‘What the hell, Rogers?’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully exasperated and perplexed at some of Steve’s past actions probably, and that usually meant a lot of uncomfortable questions coming his way.

God help him.

Yet, he sighed and walked in, preferring to face his fate right away and go about his day as soon as possible.

“What did I do?”

“Jarvis, if you could, please,” Tony requested with a solemn expression, one of his thin holographic devices lighting up on the counter and instantly projecting several floating images as Steve walked closer.

Steve’s lips parted in surprise, shocked ‘oh’ escaping them as his heart was sent into frenzy.

Twenty images in total, photos of a blond man of Steve’s own body-built, clad in sportswear posing in every single one of them. His face was familiar too and yet somehow foreign; surely these couldn’t be real. There was no way Steve looked so confident and almost proud in some pictures, but mainly, appearing so comfortable in his skin.

Steve’s mind raced as he tried to associate the model with his own person and yet—he couldn’t but feel rather satisfied. Because this was most definitely him. And the photos were… well, not bad at all. Simultaneously, while his chest puffed with pride he desperately attempted not to let go into his head, he remembered precisely how these photos came to existence and who should totally take the credit here.

“That’s all you gonna say?! Oh?” Tony demanded, gesturing around the holograms as if these were corpus delicti of a serious offence and Steve was once again reminded of what Tony Stark was not; a patient man.

Steve felt a smile creep onto his lips as he shrugged.

“Oh, he says. You’re asking me what did you do?! THIS! If I knew you were a damn runaway model, I would have expected less fun than I did when imaging seeing you squirm! Look at this! These are way too good!”

Steve couldn’t disagree, mildly amused at Tony’s antics. In fact, he really was ridiculously content with the results of something he had dreaded and couldn’t have even hoped to turn out like this.

“…is that a bad thing?” he couldn’t but mock, earning an exasperated huff… and a smirk.

“Well… not, I guess. My little black heart is just… disappointed.”

Ah, yes. The heavily guarded secret – Tony Stark did have a heart and contrary to popular opinion, it was not little or black.

“No, it’s not.”

“Hush!” Tony shushed him, a twinkle appearing in his eye, amusement mixing with satisfaction. “But seriously. What the hell? Since when do you… pose? Like this? Like… wow.”

“Careful there, Stark, you’ll make him blush,” Natasha hummed as she entered the communal kitchen, checking out the flowing pictures with interest and a curve to her lips. “These are pretty great. You did well, Rogers.”

And all of sudden, Steve couldn’t handle the praise anymore; it had been fun with Tony, but now when Natasha joined in, swiftly followed by a wolf-whistle from Sam at her heels…  it felt wrong to brag about this, it wasn’t fair – he wasn’t the one who deserved to be given the majority of the merit.

“It’s… it wasn’t me, really…“ he admitted sheepishly.

And it wasn’t. It was all you.

Looking at the photos, he could tell what you were talking about when you pressed the shutter release for every single one of them. Painting the vivid image of the ocean just with your words. Calling him a hero in a way no one ever had. Pleading him to be proud of what he had accomplished. Making him feel those things, causing him to gradually gain confidence, feeling good in his own skin even when being at the centre of attention, encouraging him to suggest a pose on his own. Hell, Steve might go as far as to say that he had been having fun.

But it was all you.

“Looks a lot like you, man,” Sam chuckled and Steve would have shot him an annoyed glare hadn’t he been so embarrassed and self-conscious to admit who was to blame for the pictures turning out so great.

Because… yeah, Steve wasn’t vain or tried not to be, but these were pretty swell. You were a magician, you had to be. And he had fallen straight into the trap of your charms.

“Har har… the photographer was amazing. She made me feel-” He didn’t even know how to describe it without making himself look like a complete fool… for you. “-great. She was really supportive the whole time, sometimes even making me forget she was taking shots.”

“Alert!” Tony cried out all of sudden, nearly causing Steve to jump out of his skin. “I sense romance! How’s Cap heart, Jarvis? Has the security been breached? Should we run some scans-”

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve huffed in irritation, attempting to hide how precisely the billionaire hit the nail on its head.

“Awww, now he is blushing,” Natasha teased and Steve felt the heat in his cheeks burn.

“Well, luckily for him, there was a business card along with the printed photos that arrived this morning.”

Steve’s head immediately snapped Tony’s direction, curious and excited. You left a business card? That was—it probably didn’t mean anything along the lines he wished, but still!

The billionaire held out the simple creamy-coloured item between two fingers, but quickly snatched it away when Steve reached for it. Steve shot him a murderous glare. Dammit man-child!

“Full story or you’re not getting any, pun intended.”

“Oh, go to hell, Stark-”

“Come on, Stark. We all know he has some work ethics unlike you. Let him start a thing before you interrogate him. Plus, if he’s got a phone number from a hot girl for the free work he did, good for him. Give him the card,” Natasha supported the poor blond and Tony rolled his eyes before shooting the Widow a look of betrayal. Sam just chuckled at their antics. Steve snatched the card before they could change their mind, while Natasha smiled behind her cup. “We expect a full report later though.”

She exchanged a high-five with Sam under the bar, but Steve was too busy examining the card and having his heart beating incredibly fast to feel exasperated at his childish friends.

As he flipped the card in his fingers, he felt a wide smile spread his lips at their own accord.

If you ever need another photoshoot or anything at all, don’t hesitate to call. xxx

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

S.R. masterlist

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Thank you for reading :-*

Link to the inspiration post will be in reblog!

What can I say to my defence? I just really like making Steve happy, okay?

And yeah, the 2016 FILA is perfect too, but this fic is a result of a suggestion of a friend and babyface CE is more Steve, what can I say…

[fishmongeringstudies]

scene two, aka whatever is left of this air conditioning unit

this evening i microwaved my first cup of kraft instant mac and cheese. the print on the side said to stick it in the microwave for three and a half minutes and then add in the cheese and stir vigorously, so that's what i did, but when i took it out there was a frothy boiling mess on the glass plate and an ungodly amount of water left in the cup so i poured out half of the water and added the cheese and 'stirred vigorously' and the whole thing tasted kind of like if you tried to describe the experience of going on a rollercoaster to someone whose only experience with transport is a horse-drawn cart, by which i mean it wasn't terrible, because terrible implies that an effort was made to be good. it is my humble belief that kraft instant mac and cheese has never aspired towards anything.

this morning i woke up sweating. the rooms in this dorm don't have a/c, but at least they have me. unfortunately they are likely to not have me too very soon, precisely because they don't have a/c. in hot weather a/c and i imply each other like a pair of lovers in a horrible codependent relationship that starts out on the best possible foot and starts to worry their friends and family when both of them go missing for three weeks at a time and are found in some dingy motel next to the movie theater drinking dorito-infused sprite while marathoning old animated barbie movies and eventually ends with one party riding off into the sunset on a stolen e-scooter and the other one becoming a fitness influencer on instagram. instagram is useful for some things like stalking people you might want to kidnap and stick in your basement for a few days and contacting friends who have progressed past the need for neanderthal-style text messaging. fitness influencers are not one of those things.

did you know? there were a hundred and forty-four freshmen on campus this spring. according to the corny welcome to the class of 2024 post on the admissions blog, there are three hundred and seventy-three of us in total. i stuck the numbers in the calculator app because i have progressed past the need for neanderthal-style quick math; that's thirty-eight percent. did you know? i've been a college student for a year now, and i've only met thirty-eight percent of my own class.

not to be dramatic, but i'm aggressively stirring another cup of kraft instant mac and cheese right now. not to be dramatic but i've stuck a body in your basement. it's a promise ring. what am i promising? i'm promising i'll come see you.

i think if i get a car i will feel like a real american. of course i will never be a real american because 1) i spent eighteen years living in singapore and 2) i have the spiritual capacity of a well-endowed british opera singer and 3) i don't actually want to be one but the idea has its appeals, like pretending you're part of a group with an identity that isn't an obscure gender alignment (chicken) you came up with on the fly (see? chicken). improvisation has always been my strong suit (for my january term class we had to post self-intros on moodle and for my interesting skill i said i was good at improvisational running. someone commented asking me what improvisational running was. i said i could start running at very unexpected times of the day, like in the lunch line or in the middle of an x-ray examination or while i'm brushing my teeth. this spring i've proven myself to be everything, it turns out, but a liar). forgetting where i started a sentence is also my strong suit. confrontation is not my strong suit.

maybe i should learn to drive. but who is going to teach me? every day we stray further from god, like little bath toys stuck in the pacific ocean getting fucked up by the dolphins, who have gotten bored with the lack of traffic recently and have decided to start their own acting troupe. i am writing this under the impression that there are dolphins in the pacific ocean. if i am wrong please do not correct me. ignorance is bliss. blocking the numbers of people who have set fire to your proverbial house (you live in a dorm room, after all, which doesn't count as a real place to come back to) in various interesting ways without meaning to is also bliss.

the mac and cheese was terrible. but all things are the first time you try them. like how your first novel is three pages long in papyrus font size fifteen on a word document your mom unearths a decade later when she's cleaning the hard drive on your computer. like how the first time you go to target by yourself you pin the wrong target on google maps and end up walking beside a highway getting blasted by fumes for half a mile instead of taking a nice cottagecore jaunt through the bougie neighborhood your school is located in. like how your first semester of college is this huge fucky clusterfuck of absolute horsefuckery that's so bad, even your older friends who've already done undergrad and grad school and passed out in a dumpster behind a denny's a few times in their lifetime are kind of impressed with you.

my first semester of college was a three hour dark souls speedrun. now we're stopping to enjoy the scenery. and what wonderful scenery it is! actually it's very bad. summer is boring because it reminds me of home and the geographical location of home is not itself very bad but i was very depressed for a while so the psychological associations will take a while to unlearn, like maybe five months or five decades. that's fine. i didn't come to america to get away from the monster under the bed. i am the monster. and now i am in america the world is the bed and did you know? i'm pretty tall. so it's fine. i'll break this bedframe. i'll shatter it to pieces.

05.22.21

[northmammon]

first sentence! : “alright fine, you win!”

send me a first sentence and i'll write a blurb

thank you for sending one in! this was fun :)

"Alright fine, you win!" Hotch feigned exasperation. "One more, but after that, we’re watching something else.”

Jack grinned as he clamored over his father and hopped off of the small couch they were sharing. It was cramped and uncomfortable, just like the rest of the apartment they had been staying in for the past two months. It had taken six weeks for Jack to stop locking himself away in his newfound bedroom, and nearly eight for him to agree to a movie night. Now, they had been having a makeshift Star Wars marathon, cycling through the same six films at random.

As much as he had protested when Jack suggested The Return of the Jedi for the third time that week, Hotch knew he wouldn't grow tired of it.

How could he when Jack groaned at his bad impressions ("Yoda does not sound like that Dad"), or when he starts to discuss the mechanics behind the special effects, information courtesy of the Star Wars: Fascinating Facts! book Spencer had gotten him for Christmas, complete with added annotations of concepts Jack didn't quite understand yet but repeated anyway. He wasn't able to take the book with him into WITSEC, but he had read it enough times that he could recite it from memory.

Jack raced back to his previous spot as the opening credits began to play, already starting his stream of facts for the film. Hotch had heard it before but let him continue anyway. It was the first time he had seen Jack genuinely smile since they had left their home. And as Jack leaned against his chest, blanket tucked around his shoulders and still speaking a mile a minute, Hotch felt a genuine smile start to tug at his lips as well.

[kickingitwithkirk]

Rain pt II

Summary: After Supernaturals end Jensen’s life turned upside down. A year later an unexpected movie offer gives his career a second chance but it comes with an unexpected surprises.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x OFC Lili

Word Count: 1034

Warnings: cursing, nervous Jensen

* This is a slow burn series

Part I

A/N: This story has components from my favorite W. Somerset Maugham short Rain and Lace by Shirley Conran.

“I swear.. your..trying to...fucking kill me,” Jensen gasped as he falls onto the grassy knoll. Jared looks down at him laughing. He had been running with Jensen four times a week for the last month, pushing him to go further each week.

“We’ve only gone five miles…”

“I’m not training for a fucking marathon!”

“You said you wanted to do this and told me not to go easy.”

Jensen lays back on the grass, “I know and I appreciate it Jay, I’m just cranky cause..”

“Your menopausal?”

“Funny. No, I’m fucking hungry! Last night I couldn't stop dreaming about those damn double bacon cheeseburgers Dean used to eat.”

Jensen’s new diet was similar to what the Marvel actors did and he swore he’d never do again.

He normally watched what he ate, exercised regularly and was lucky he didn’t have to push too hard to stay in shape but he’d gotten used to nibbling on sweets, thanks to Jared’s addiction, always having something surgery on set. It was the first time he envied his friends hummingbird metabolism, would’ve made this reduction so much easier.

The absolute worst was no alcohol at all ‘cause dammit, he likes his drink.

Jared sat down next to him stretching, “You're doing really good, I can see the changes already.” Jensen’s cheekbones were more prominent and the soft overlay on his abdomen was gone, his toned abs more noticeable, giving him the lean, muscular look like he had in his early twenties, even though he hadn’t put on any muscle mass.

“I still can’t wrap my head around why me? I don’t physically look the part, Davidson’s described more like you Sasquatch, all hair and rangly.” He smirks earning him bitchface.

“I read the book and yeah, you're not exactly type but by the time you lose the weight, makeup and wardrobe, you’ll pull it off. How much you down?”

“Eighteen.”

“That’s good, you’re slightly ahead. Once your there, it’s maintenance.”

Jensen sighed remembering how much Jared had to put away, on top of his already huge daily caloric intake, to bulk up and kept on for demon blood and soulless!Sam a decade ago.

Jared gets up extending his extra large hand and pulls a groaning Jensen with him.

***

October

Jensen's sitting by himself in the green room waiting for the press junket to start texting with Chris Kane about getting together while he was in California.

His other co-stars were seated close together chatting amicably, having either previously worked together on other projects or through events they’d attended.

“Cheer up mate, we’re not all a bunch of snobby assholes, well...some of us aren’t.” He looked up as David Tennant draped his lanky self over a nearby chair. He’d gotten to know the Scotsman a bit when his wife Emily guest starred as Kate the werewolf on Supernatural.

“Just watch yourself around Dockerty,” he says in a staged whisper making her glance over at them. David flashes his signature smile making her roll her eyes, resumes her conversation with Sally Hawking, Jamie Dornan and Jay Laga’aia, “she’s been known to make a porcupine look positively cuddly.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jensen remarks, “since she’s playing my wife,” the comment makes David chuckle, “Sally’s seems genuine, you lucked out there.”

David rubs his chin thoughtfully, “Since we don’t know who the leading lady of our ensemble is yet we might be better off cuddling up to the porcupine.”

Jensen remained noncommittal, figuring it’d be better not to antagonize anyone since they would be stuck together for the next four months; three weeks of rehearsals to shake any bugs left out of the script. costume fittings, makeup and hair while work was being completed on the island thousands of miles from the U.S. where they’d be filming during the region’s rainy season.

A PA walked in, “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to face the firing squad.”

***

Jensen nervously tapped his fingers against his thick thigh backstage waiting for his name to be called. This junket was making him uneasy, not knowing what the press would ask since Zimmer, who preferred to keep everything close to the vest with his projects, had only released minimal information about this production. 

He hoped the coverage would be favorable since in this ensemble he was not only an odd man out but leading sticks out like a sore thumb man out.

They could hear Zimmer thanking the press, briefly answering questions about the minimal info in the press packets. The announcer went right into a bit of background filler about each of their carriers before introductions.

“At this moment we would usually introduce both leading actors together but unfortunately the lead actresses flight is delayed due to mechanical issues and is on another flight, hopefully to be here soon.”

There’s a brief pause, “This gentleman is better known for his previous hit television series, the longest running of its genre, ending last year after an unprecedented fifteen seasons. Please welcome Mr. Jensen Ackles.”

Jensen counted to five and stepped out onto the stage.

***

“Ms. Dockerty, how does this part compare to that of Lady Mary, since both characters are from roughly the same time period.”

“I’m not sure if we can compare…” Michelle was answering when David picked up his glasses putting them on distracting Jensen. Squinting at someone across the ballroom chucks softly to himself.

Jensen notices a woman dressed in a well worn leather jacket leaning against the back wall. He couldn’t make out her face clearly with the size of the hall but something was familiar.

It starts in the back of the room: a buzzing murmur along the last row of journalists, word spreading, people turning around to gander at the mysterious lady in the back turns into pandemonium.

It’s complete chaos as the whole press core got their full attention on her, some standing up on chairs shouting her name trying to get her to look their way for a coveted shot.

“It appears our leading lady has arrived.” David bemusedly yells to be heard as Michelle was caught saying “fucking hell,” over the open mic. Jensen can do nothing but sit in shocked silence.

Lili.

tbc

Tagging: SPN @donnaintx​​​​​​

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva​​​​​​

Rain @stoneyggirl​​​​​​

[kushamikaitou]

A dusty attic

Akechi hadn't fully deduced what he hoped to accomplish by spending time with Akira Kurusu.  In truth, it was a puzzle he actively avoided because his train of thought tended to veer into uncomfortable territory when he examined it too closely. Certainly there were plenty of valid reasons to maintain a relationship with Kurusu - information gathering, enemy infiltration, calculated flirting as a means to distract. Sure, he never hesitated to let Kurusu know how much he enjoyed their little dates, but that was for Kurusu's benefit of course. And yet a niggling little voice at the back of his mind reminded him that those reasons were justification rather than cause, a bud of concern that there was too much truth to his words and the primary reason he chose to spend time with Kurusu was that he simply did enjoy the other boy's company.  

These were the thoughts Akechi tried to force out of his mind on the walk from Yongen-jaya station to Cafe Leblanc one cloudy Saturday afternoon in early November.  It had taken him all of twenty seconds to accept an invitation to join Kurusu in his bedroom for a horror movie marathon, and it wasn't until after he had agreed that he considered what he'd committed to, or why he'd been so eager.  It was something in the wording of the text he'd realized, as if there was an implication that the selected films might be too frightening for him to handle.  Akechi was no coward, and he made that perfectly clear in his response. "Cool, I'll make popcorn," Kurusu had replied.

He exhaled sharply and pushed open the door to the cafe.  Sakura gave him a curt nod from behind the counter.  "Kid's upstairs, waiting for you."

"Ah... thank you.  Excuse me."  He heard Sakura chuckle softly behind him and grumble something about youth as he headed to the back of the shop.

He knocked softly on the banister and Kurusu all but leapt from where he was lounging on the couch.  "Hey, you made it," he said with a cheeky grin.  On the table beside him was a large bowl of popcorn and two mugs of coffee.  "Ready for some nightmare fuel?"

"I hardly think a few blockbuster films will reduce me to nightmares, but I'm happy to indulge nonetheless. Will your cat not be joining us today?"

"Nah, he's not into horror and gore. I think he's off sneaking into a rom-com in Shibuya with Ann." Akira glanced over his shoulder as if expecting Morgana to yowl in protest and Akechi stifled a chuckle as he removed his coat and draped it neatly over the railing.

"So." Akira began casually, strolling toward the back of the room. "We can sit on the couch if you want, but... the bed might be more comfy.  I got some pillows I can prop up."  

"This is your home after all, so I will defer to you." He gave Kurusu a quick wink and didn't miss the dusting of pink on the other boy's cheeks.

"Right this way, then." He gestured toward the mattress laid atop several old milk crates.  

Akechi placed his coffee on the shelf next to the bed and sat down carefully, not wanting to crack the altogether precarious arrangement of the "bed." Akira fell beside him in a haphazard flop, and in his wake a cloud of dust billowed from the mattress. On an inhale, Akechi felt a sharp prickle in his sinuses. The room typically had a fair amount of dust floating through it, he had noticed the few times he'd joined the Phantom Thieves there for a meeting, but he'd never been quite so close to the source of it. He wondered for a moment how Kurusu was able to sleep at all in such conditions.

Not wanting to derail the plans or make things uncomfortable, he willed his nose to cease its itching and his eyes not to water.  Kurusu, meanwhile, grabbed the bowl of popcorn from where he'd set it on the chair next to the bed and sidled up next to him.  "Alrighty, we're starting with Pach Saw. Here we go, last chance to chicken out."

"Of course not. Unless that is what you desi-hh..." His eyes fluttered, the sneeze refused to be held back any longer and exploded with a grunt of breath into his arm. "My apologies. What you desire?"

"Um... bless you.  Nope, I'm good.  Popcorn?"  Akira pressed play on the remote and shifted the bowl a bit to his left but refused to look Akechi in the eye, flushed a bashful shade of red. Akechi gave him a discerning look, contemplating the curious reaction before returning his attention to the movie.

He grabbed a handful of popcorn and settled into Akira's side, toeing the line of flirtation as always. The exposition was nearly complete when he was overcome by three more desperate rapid-fire sneezes, each more violent than the last, his body curling in on itself in an attempt to absorb the shock.

"Wow, are you OK?" Akira touched his arm lightly, rigidly, his face now crimson. "Here, I'll grab you some tissues." He shifted off the bed and reached for the workbench to his right.

"Oh, don't mind me. Though... yes, actually tissues would be rather helpful." Akechi sniffed, arm still covering his nose, trying to ward off the next set until the tissues were in his hand. Kurusu certainly was acting strangely. They'd become bolder and bolder over the past few months with their lighthearted competitive flirting, and in each incident the boy had seemed nearly unflappable.  Yet he'd barely touched Kurusu today and here he was coming apart at the seams.  Why was his composure suddenly eluding him?

"Of course."  Akira handed him a customized tissue box with a black and white cat on the side that looked suspiciously like Morgana, still observing him with judgement even when miles away.

Akechi muttered a quick thanks and yanked one from the box just in time to double over with a renewed fit, breath hitching wildly in between violent bursts.  Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes and he finished the set with a loud blow as the first victim fell to a bloody chainsaw on the screen behind them. "Whew, excuse me for interrupting the movie you were looking forward to.  I believe this mattress is a bit dustier than what I'm ah-hh accustomed to. One moment." He held up the index finger of his right hand and sneezed once more into his left elbow. Through tears he eyed the cloud of dust in the air, which seemed to never settle but circled above them like fish in a tank, and then blew again sharply into the tissue and dabbed his eyes. He sensed the pressure of grey eyes staring in his direction, but when he turned his attention to Akira the other boy was turning his gaze toward the remote.

"No problem, we can rewind.  Sorry about the dust..." Akira's voice was barely above a mumble, eyes fixed on his hands in his lap and face flushed a deep shade of vermillion. Akechi's curiosity got the better of him. He narrowed his eyes toward the boy next to him and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder.

"Kurusu, are you alright? You seem to be quite troubled by the effect the dust is having on me. I assure you it's not a problem I can't manage." He scrubbed his crinkling nose with the back of his wrist and gave a wet sniff.

Akechi could barely see Akira's grey eyes turn toward him behind the light reflecting on his glasses, hand at the back of his neck, as Akechi held him in checkmate. Terrified, caught and with nowhere to run. The thrill of the upper hand thrummed through Akechi's spine, even if he wasn't sure why it belonged to him. "Uh... well... yeah. You're cute is all."

Akechi stared back, unsatisfied with the explanation. Certainly that much had been established already. In fact, Kurusu had told him explicitly that he was cute months ago when he fluffed his hair in public and forced him to wear those stupid fake glasses and plenty of times since. He moved the hand from Akira to his chin in contemplation.  This sheepishness was new and the reason for it remained a mystery.

Sensing his confusion, Akira explained further. "It's just... um... seeing you lose control. There's something really... nice about it."

The pieces started to fit into place. Akechi's expression clicked a few degrees toward mischief as he twirled a lock of hair around his index finger. "Pardon if I'm off base, but it seems you're the one who's lost control. Humor me in elaborating exactly what it is you enjoy?" he requested sweetly. Akira was practically malfunctioning at the request, and Akechi was practically giddy with how handily he was winning the exchange, still he wanted to make Kurusu say it out loud. He watched as the other boy located his resolve and pulled the shattered pieces of his composure together in an instant, effectively turning the tables with a hint of Joker's smirk. He removed his glasses and set them gently on the ledge behind him without breaking eye contact.

"I like watching you sneeze."

Akechi's eyes widened slightly as he processed the confession. The confidence was a stark shift from the sputtering from moments earlier, but not entirely unexpected. Now, though, Akechi needed to do something bold to stay ahead. He looked at the boy next to him and set his mind on his next move. "Hmm. A bit strange, but I can work with it."

In a swift motion, he leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against Akira's, one hand to Akira's shoulder and the other reaching around the back of his neck, pulling him close. Akira took to the kiss like a duck to water, wrapping his arms around Akechi and threading his hands through the detective's soft tangle of hair, grabbing Akechi's lower lip with his teeth and then releasing it to slide their tongues together. Several soft moans escaped both of their lips, lost in the heat of one another as electricity surged between them.

Akechi felt an itch begin to blossom, tensed and barely broke the kiss in time with a mumbled "sorry" before quickly lifting his arm and muffling a pair of sneezes to the side.

"Mmm, don't apologize." Akira growled low, hunger in his eyes as they met Akechi's. "And don't break away next time."

Next time was nearly immediate, and Akechi heeded the command and only barely turned, this time directing his fit into the dip above Akira's collarbone.  Akira ran his hands up and down Akechi's back, feeling his muscles tense with every release as he shuddered against him.  As soon as Akechi had a moment to catch his breath, Akira lifted his face toward him and, despite the fact that he was now congested and sniffly, kissed him deeply and desperately, and then peppered the corners of his mouth and his cheeks and his nose with little nibbles.

He leaned backward, one arm still firmly holding Akechi, to snag a few tissues. "Bless you, honey."  His voice was too full of affection. It sent a shock of panic through Akechi's core and his mind flashed to the job he'd have to complete in a few short weeks.

A blood-curdling scream erupted in the room and both boys jumped. The latest chainsaw massacre victim collapsed in the screen behind them.  A shared laugh, and then Akechi blew into the tissue.  Akira leaned in and nuzzled his hair as he did.

Akechi didn't have time to analyze his concerns with this latest show of affection because an instant later they were on one another again. Akira shifted his weight and pushed Akechi's shoulders down, laying him flat on the dusty bed. Akechi slid his hands under Akira's tshirt and ran them along the smooth, taut muscle of his torso. Akira leaned down onto his forearms and worked both of his hands into Akechi's hair, dragging his nails along his scalp as their eyes locked.

The next sneeze snuck up on him and as he jerked forward, it tugged sharply at Akira's grip on his hair, forcing a sharp, keening noise from his throat. Kurusu looked shocked and apologetic for about half a second and made a move to extricate himself but a look at Akechi's face told him that the moan had been one of pleasure. A half smirk broke across his face and he silenced the sound from Akechi's lips with his own, lowered his body to press him hard into the mattress. Akira shifted his head and whispered mischief into Akechi's ear.

"Like that, huh? Maybe I can help."

His lips brushed feather light against the tip of Akechi's nose, then minty breath ghosted over his face, intensifying the tickle. Akira watched his nose as it scrunched and twitched, reacting to the attention, and once he was certain they were at the point of no return he turned his head to the side and kissed Akechi on the cheek as he bent forward, leashed by his hair. The release of the sneeze, the pin-prick on his scalp from the tug, his growing excitement rutting against Akira's hips. It was too much. Another. More pulling. More rutting. Akira's lips, warm and pressed to his own. Again and again.

Akira pulled his head back to look at him. "God, you're beautiful," he whispered and Akechi whined softly as he gazed into his rival's eyes, tears pricking the corners of his own, from the allergy or the pain or the affection - he wasn't sure.

Abruptly, Akira pulled away, carefully untangling his hands from Akechi's hair, and rolled himself into a seated position.  He leaned for the tissues and handed one over. Akechi felt a surge of frustration from the whiplash.

"Sorry. I realized where this is going, and the shop is open and Sojiro's right downstairs and..."

"It's fine. You're right, we shouldn't, it would complicate too much."

"Haha, it's not too complicated already?"

"I suppose it is."

A thick silence hung in the air for a moment, both burning to continue, but sobering to the reality. Akechi blew his nose again and then reached for the shelf and took a languid sip of his coffee, which was fully cooled but still bursting with nuanced flavors, just like every cup he'd had at Leblanc. If only his life could be as simple as this - room-temperature coffee, secretly ignoring stupid movies in the bedroom of his rival. If only their relationship's hurdles were limited to societal expectations and monotony. If only they'd met a few years earlier, before Akechi was whisked into a dangerous world of shadows and committed to a job that stripped him of his humanity.

Warm fingers threaded through his own and squeezed, and he looked up to see Akira's face contorted into a somber expression of concern. "Maybe it doesn't have to be so complicated. You don't have to do everything alone, you know."

A surge of hatred for Kurusu burned behind his eyes. Naive, trusting, hero-of-the-masses Kurusu who thinks that the power of friendship will solve all of life's problems. Whose rolodex is filled to the brim with a gaggle of adoring followers who he truly considers friends. Whose affection would evaporate in an instant if he knew what kind of a monster Akechi really was. What can he do, but do his best to win? He can't prove that he's deserving so he has to prove that he's better. He didn't need Kurusu, he'd never needed anyone's help to scrounge his way up from the dregs and come out on top, sparkling and polished.

Gently but swiftly, he freed his fingers from Kurusu's hold and flashed a muted media smile. "Not to worry, Kurusu. As I told you before, we can't simply deviate from the paths we follow, but as long as we're working together you'll have my strength." He combed and smoothed his fingers through his hair, feeling it return to its typical relaxed state.

"Hmm." Akira turned away and nodded, expression suddenly blank. Akechi understood that the rejection must sting, but he felt another thrum of pleasure from having regained control of his emotions and the upper hand. The rest of his body seemed to follow suit as well - he sniffled a bit, but the itch had settled into a dull, pounding headache. Preferable, he thought, pain was easier to mask, after all.

They sat in silence for the remainder of the movie, close but not touching, not bothering to rewind through the parts they'd missed. By the time Akechi had finished the last of his coffee and the murderer was brutally disemboweled with his own chainsaw he found himself relieved that it was only Kurusu who had witnessed his lapse in judgement. He felt confident that given his embarrassment over his kink, he wouldn't go sharing the events of the afternoon with all of his friends. No, this secret would die with Kurusu within the month.

The credits rolled, and Akechi smoothed the evidence of their earlier activities from his shirt.

"Well. Many thanks for the invitation, Kurusu. I must be getting back to the station now, a detective's work never ends I'm afraid."

Kurusu's face remained infuriatingly passive, no doubt retreated behind his own mask of indifference. He turned to gather the empty coffee mugs.

"I'm certain you understand why we can't continue. We are on opposite sides of the law after all."

"Sure." Kurusu nodded reasonably.

"Although."  Akechi tilted his head, searching Kurusu's still-bare face for the eagerness he'd seen earlier but came away empty. "It was rather enjoyable. One more for the road perhaps?" He leaned in and planted one last soft, chaste kiss on Kurusu's lips. The other boy kissed back, but made no other motion to pull Akechi in. Smart, he knows when to stop reaching.

"See you later, Akechi." Kurusu waved nonchalantly with the ghost of a smile and strolled back toward his workbench.

"Goodbye, Kurusu."

Akechi donned his jacket and as he descended the attic stairs, waving politely to Sakura before stepping back out into the November chill, he contemplated how utterly baffling Kurusu continued to be. The two of them had fallen into a pattern - revealing intimate pieces of themselves and disappearing into smoke and mirrors in turn.

No matter, no use in spending too much time and energy there. Perhaps Kurusu would be good for a few more battles, but Akechi had already won the war. His head still throbbed and he could still taste Kurusu on his lips, but he smirked to himself as he walked toward the station.

[thewidowsghost]

Chapter 28

Previously on Fox:

(Y/n) walks over to the bathroom and changes real quick and hangs her uniform up in the closet and pulls out her black and white Nikes from earlier in the morning, and pulls them on and tying them.

"I thought you wanted to see how we went before we told anyone?" (Y/n) asks, sitting on the edge of the bed beside Natasha.

"I feel like we're going to be together for a long time," Natasha admits and (Y/n) smiles warmly.

"Forever," (Y/n) says, giving her a soft kiss, and Natasha's heart swells. "Come on," (Y/n) stands up, offering her hand and Natasha takes it, the two walking out into the living room.

3rd Person POV

"Hey (Y/n)," Sam says and he throws her a Gatorade and she catches it.

"Is everyone coming to watch like the last time?" (Y/n) asks as the three walk out of the house and towards the track.

"You don't think they want to see Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers 2.0 in another race?" Sam says, and (Y/n) shakes her head, letting out a breath of laughter. "I almost won the last time."

"Nope, I ran 15 miles in 45 minutes, you really trying me?" (Y/n) asks teasingly.

"Holy crap there's a lot of people here," Natasha says, looking around and looking at the outdoor bleachers where about a hundred fifty people are sitting, talking excitedly.

"This usually is how it happens," a new voice says, and the three turn to see a woman, probably five foot three, dirty blond hair, and silver eyes.

"Umansky," Sam says.

"Sasha," (Y/n) adds, "you're the new Drill Commander. Nice to see you stepping up," (Y/n) smiles at the younger woman.

"Yeah, well, I had some inspiration," Sasha says.

"(Y/n) does tend to inspire people," Natasha says and (Y/n) smiles warmly at her girlfriend.

"Aww Nat, that's sweet," (Y/n) says.

"Hi, I've never seen you around here. I'm Sasha," Sasha says, nodding to Natasha.

"I'm Natasha, (Y/n)'s girlfriend," Natasha says.

"You've been gone for three months," Ryan says, coming up. "Been training to beat Sam again? Already beat him in the relationship category."

(Y/n) laughs while Sam fake pouts. (Y/n) takes a sip of Gatorade before Ryan turns to Natasha. "Wanna come and sit with us and watch?" he asks.

"Sure," Natasha answers. "Want me to hold that?" she gestures to (Y/n)'s Gatorade.

"Thanks, wish me luck," (Y/n) says.

"I bet you won't need it," Natasha says and (Y/n) goes a little red.

"Come on, slow poke," Sam calls over his shoulder and (Y/n) rolls her eyes and jogs after him.

"Right, you've got a half marathon run today," Ryan says into a microphone and everyone goes silent, their eyes fixed on the to friendly competitors. "That's twenty-six laps."

(Y/n) sits down on the track and stretches. "You still haven't learned to stretch before you run?" she asks Sam, teasingly. "You might be faster," she jumps to her feet.

"Right," Ryan says, "Get ready," (Y/n) relaxes slightly, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "Get set. Go!"

(Y/n) starts off at a slow jog, letting Sam pull ahead of her for a couple of laps then she speeds up, almost at a full sprint and surpassing Sam and lapping him about ten times.

"On your left," (Y/n) says teasingly, passing Sam again.

"Yep."

"On your left."

"Yep."

(Y/n) comes up behind him again. "Don't say it, don't say it!"

"On your right."

"Seriously!" Sam breaks into a sprint and hold out for a little while when (Y/n) finishes, ten laps before Sam.

"Right Sam," (Y/n) calls as he approaches. (Y/n) jogs and keeps pace with Sam until he finishes. "Not bad, Sammy," (Y/n) says.

"You just ran 18 miles in no time whatsoever," Sam says, "and you're barely sweating."

"She's special," Natasha says, coming over to meet the two friends. Sam's laughs as (Y/n)'s cheeks dust a light red.

"I'm not the only one," (Y/n) says.

"You two are disgustingly cute," Sam says and (Y/n) laughs.

Sasha runs over to meet the three. "Captain," she addresses (Y/n), "I have the Drill Team ready to start if you would like to begin now."

"Please Sasha, just call me (Y/n), and sure, let's go," (Y/n) says.

"That's not respectful to you," Sasha says, leading (Y/n) and Natasha into the gym.

"It's alright," (Y/n) says firmly.

After a moment, Sasha nods.

"Here," Natasha hands (Y/n) her Gatorade and (Y/n) takes it, giving Natasha a smile before taking a sip.

Natasha and (Y/n) sit on the bleachers, (Y/n) waiting for the rest of the Drill Team members to show up.

"What do you want to do when we get home?" (Y/n) asks.

"I'm kind of feeling just hanging around before we have to go back to work," Natasha answers.

"I was hoping you were going to say that," (Y/n) leans up against her girlfriend for a little while.

After about five minutes, the Drill Team walks in and (Y/n) stands up. "Duty calls," (Y/n) says cheerfully, bending down to kiss Natasha on the cheek before walking over to the Drill Team.

"Sasha, come here," (Y/n) says, coming to attention at the top left-hand corner of the gym. Sasha jogs over and comes to attention beside (Y/n). "Now, have them fall in. Make sure you don't yell, project. There's a big difference between yelling and projecting."

"Platoon, fall in," Sasha calls, not being able to be heard over the air conditioning.

"Here, listen," (Y/n) clears her throat. "Platoon, fall in!" the Drill Team hurries over and falls in, adjusting to be in the correct position. "You want to make your voice, well, deeper I guess. Have them go to at ease," (Y/n) tells the shorter woman beside her.

"Platoon, at ease!" Sasha orders, and the platoon crisply moves to the position of at ease, their feet fifteen inches apart, their arms folded behind their back.

(Y/n) moves to stand in front of Thomas, the new Company Guideon. "When you go to at ease, you want to slide your hand up and turn it as you go. Here," (Y/n) holds out her hand for the Guideon and Thomas hand it to her, the woman almost taller than the pole.

(Y/n) comes to attention in front of Thomas, and then proceeds to move to at ease, her hand sliding up and pushing the Guideon out to tilt at a forty-five degree angle in front of her. Then she snaps back to attention, her feet coming together and sliding her hand back down, the Guideon coming to sit parallel to her. (Y/n) hands Thomas the Guideon.

Going back to stand by Sasha, she nods to Amelia, the First Squad leader, and the Asian woman smiles back at her former Drill Commander.

"Have them come to attention now," (Y/n) says, walking around and catching Natasha's eye, and she sends her girlfriend a smile from across the gym.

"Platoon, attention!"

The whole platoon snaps to attention, and (Y/n) nods. She circles to stand by Sasha again, and begins to explain how to direct the platoon, Natasha watching her girlfriend talking to the shorter woman, a soft smile crossing the green eyed woman's face.

"I'm going to go sit by Natasha, and you've got to direct the platoon so I can still hear you," (Y/n) says and Sasha nods.

(Y/n) jogs over to sit by Natasha and nods to Sasha to begin. (Y/n) grabs her Gatorade and takes a sip watching as Sasha marches the platoon around the gym, Sasha's commands getting better with each on she gives.

"She's good," (Y/n) says.

"She had a good teacher," Natasha says, and (Y/n) smiles softly, her (E/C) gaze sparkling happily.

(Y/n) raises her hand and Sasha brings the platoon to a halt. The (H/C) haired woman catches sight of a drill saber sitting on the bleaches not far away from her and she grabs it, flicking the scabbard off skillfully, Natasha taking note of the movement as (Y/n) walks away. (Y/n) flashes a smile over her shoulder, Natasha smiling softly back, as (Y/n) buckles the sword belt around her waist.

(Y/n) walks back over to Sasha, Natasha watching her girlfriend exchange a few words with Sasha, resting the sword on her shoulder, (Y/n) showing Sasha how to swing it. Sasha draws her saber from her belt, and then (Y/n) steps away, motioning for them to continue.

(Y/n) watches for a little while, the dulled blade of the saber still resting against her shoulder. After a few minutes, (Y/n) has the platoon stop again, in position to do an eyes right, a movement to salute the officers observing the platoons.

(Y/n) stands by Sasha and goes through the movements to march up to the Guideon, in front of the first squad leader. Then she turns to Thomas, who was looking a little uncertain.

(Y/n) sheaths the saber, and walks over to Thomas. "You're doing fine," (Y/n) tells the nervous eighteen year old. "Do you know how to do an eyes right?" she asks and Thomas shakes his head. Thomas hands the Captain the Guideon.

"What you're going to want to do," (Y/n) takes the Guideon and pulls it up and out, the Guideon pole parallel to the floor. "You pull it up," (Y/n) pulls the Guideon back up, and then demonstrates the movement in slow motion, "and out. So when you're marching, you do the same thing, but you'll want to pull it out enough so you don't impale Stephen behind you." Stephen is a tall, blond haired man with piercing blue eyes. "Do you want to see me do it, or do you think you can do it on your own?"

"Could you show me once?" Thomas asks.

(Y/n) falls into the Guideon's place in the platoon. "Platoon, Attention!" she commands, her voice echoing strongly through the gym. "Forward," on the command forward, (Y/n) uses her left hand to slide the Guideon up about six inches, "March!" The Platoon moves steadily forward at (Y/n)'s cadents, "Left! Left! Left! Right! Right! Eyes, Right!" on Eyes Right, (Y/n) snaps the Guidon forward holding it steady until she gives the command, "Ready, Front!" On Ready, (Y/n) slaps the pole with her left hand, and on Front, she pulls it back down. "Platoon, Halt!" the platoon takes a step then stops. Then she turns to Thomas who had been marching beside her. "Get the drift?" she asks and the short brunet nods.

(Y/n) hand the young man the Guideon back and draws the saber again, and walks over to stand by Sasha.

"Give them two, To-the-Rears, and then give them a Halt," (Y/n) says. "I want you to try."

Sasha nods, and goes as (Y/n) had said, effectively turning the platoon around to stand in the correct position.

(Y/n) nods and Sasha marches up to stand next to Thomas. Sasha leads her platoon through the Eyes Right and when she's done, brings the platoon to a halt.

(Y/n) sheaths the saber again and walks up to Sasha. "You're doing amazing!"

"Thanks (Y/n)," Sasha says, lifting her head proudly.

"I don't think you guys need me anymore," (Y/n) says and the whole platoon looks over at the same time, startling (Y/n) a little, forgetting that they sometimes did that. "I'm impressed with your progress, all of you." (Y/n) nods to her former drill team, and they all cheer loudly, Natasha looking up, a concerned expression on her face. Then her expression shifts into a smile as she sees the drill team hoisting (Y/n) onto their shoulders.

"This feels like a liability issue," (Y/n) says and they all laugh. "Don't drop me," she warns, though she was used to it. Every time they won a drill meet, this would happen.

After a minute, they set (Y/n) back on the ground, and (Y/n) unbuckles her sword belt and holding it out to Amelia. A surprised expression on her face. "Are you sure?" she asks, and (Y/n) nods. Amelia takes the sword belt and the rest of the team murmurs their approval.

(Y/n) then turns to Sasha, "Good job," she wraps the shorter woman in a hug, a friendly smile on her face. "It's nice to see how much you've improved since last year."

"Thank you so much," Sasha says, then she nods towards Natasha. "She's a catch."

"Oh, I know," (Y/n) smiles, nodding to Sasha, then walking over to Natasha. The redhead stands up and the two women walk over to the door to go outside.

"Hey (Y/n)," the two turn around to see Amelia, (Y/n)'s old sword belt still in her hand.

"Amelia, what is it?" then (Y/n) realizes what's up and she shakes her head. "Okay, fine. One last time."

(Y/n) shifts into a lion, and lets out a loud roar and the drill team cheers again. (Y/n) shifts back into herself and shares an amused glance with Natasha before the two walk outside.

The two make their way - (Y/n) leading - to Ryan's office.

(Y/n) knocks on the doorframe before she walks in.

"I heard the roar from here, I take it everything went well," Ryan says, looking up from his paperwork.

"Yeah actually, Sasha learns quickly. I think that my work here is done," (Y/n) tells her former Commanding Officer.

"Good, you and Natasha can go back home now," Ryan says and (Y/n) nods. The blond man stands up and walks around his desk. "Thanks for coming back to help," he says, bringing her in for a hug.

"No problem, I told you that if you needed me to call," (Y/n) says, stepping back out of the hug.

Then Ryan turns to Natasha. "It was really nice to meet you Natasha," the blond pulls Natasha into a hug and the redhead tenses for a moment before relaxing at (Y/n)'s nod.

Ryan steps back and smiles. "See you around."

"Bye!" (Y/n) waves and her and Natasha walk out of the office, (Y/n) gently taking Natasha's hand.

"You're really good with a sword," Natasha comments as the two walk back to the house Sam had where their stuff was. "I saw you flick the sword out of the scabbard, that takes skill."

"I got into sword fighting after I graduated from college," (Y/n) explains. (Y/n) opens the door to the house and walks into the bedroom and grabs her uniform out of the closet and folding it and placing it into her suitcase.

The two finish and grab their stuff, and walk out to the Quinjet to go back home.

Word Count: 2610 words

So, the next chapter is going to be a timeskip of about a year. Y'all wanted more Father Tony and daughter moments, so y'all gonna get it.

See y'all!

Love,

           Kaitlynn 😍❤

The Drill Team thing is actually based on my own experiences, and I thought it would be fun to add some of my own touch to the story. I've got some pictures down below for any of you interested people. I'm the tiny, short child with a saber up front.

Imma tag peoples now: @confusinggemini612, @gay-disaster826, @thelastavenger-3000, @osugahunnyicedtea, @night-howl199, @minicastle, @happilyeverafterfantasybooks, @billiebanner, @me-and-sweatpants, @scottjudah, @scarlet-raccoon, @whore-for-charlynch, @nyx-aria, @night-howl199, @brittanyrenne2004, @juegamiri29, @minicastle, @peggycarter-steverogers, @gay-disaster826, @guitargodme, @avengers-avenging, @natashadeservedbetter2​

[a-detraque-barista]

Our Haunted House

Title: Our Haunted House

Rating: M

Word Count: 5.4k

Genre: yandere, horror, smut

Warnings: cursing, yandere behaviors, mention of blood, tentacle fucking, buckets of cum, biting, marking, possessiveness, unprotected sex

Summary: On your first trip back to the Halloween Fest you ran into a quiet but attractive man. Once you get separated from your friends he can’t keep himself from touching you.

A/N: HAPPY SPOOKS DAY EVERYONE!!!! A perfect rainy day (not for trick or treaters) for Halloween and to stay home and have a  Halloween Movie Marathon while eating candy and other junk food. Anyway, this is my very first smut and I hope you all like it. I also entered this in @bang-tan-bitches​ writing challenge, Monster Mash. So go check out all the other amazing stories posted in the challenge and show them some love and now on with tentacley Jimin  💜 💜 💜

    The music box played alone on the stage. It reminded you of carnival music but there was a dark undertone to it. You were only twelve and your father decided to bring you to the annual Halloween Fest. You never got scared when someone jumped out in front of you. For some reason, you have never felt fear. Nothing ever frightened you like other people. 

Your mother had voiced her concerns on more than one occasion. Calling you a freak, a monster, even going as far as a demon. She doesn’t speak to you anymore. Ignoring your existence and spending her time drinking wine and watching trash television. 

The stage you sat a few rows away from had gone completely dark before a clown was in the spotlight. His makeup was done terribly. His lips were painted black which was peeling and the white paint on his face was cracking. As he smiled widely you could clearly see black smudges on his yellow teeth.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!! I am your host for this evening! And tonight I welcome you to The Clowning. I did not come up with the name by the way,” he spat as he spoke with a fake speech impediment. “And now I present to you, Stabby the Prankster.”

Your father’s eyebrow raised, just as many other parents at the name. Then a clown wearing all red and black popped out from behind the curtain. A laugh similar to Woody the Woodpecker reached your ears. And just as his name entailed, he had knives in both hands. His makeup was just as terrible as the first. Instead, his eyes had red circles and his cheeks had red spots on top of the cracking white paint. 

He jumped down from the stage and in front of the first row viewers. His bulging eyes looked from left to right before lunging straight ahead and swiftly slit the young boy’s throat.

Screaming followed as people began to rush towards the exit. Your father picked you up and began to run with you tightly in his arms. Pushing his way through, he got to just outside the door before stopping dead in his tracks. Everyone around the two of you gasped as they saw the dagger sticking out of his back. 

Your father looked down at you and smiled weakly before dropping to his knees and before he could fall forward onto you, a family friend hoisted you onto her hip. She ran with you as you looked back to your now-dead father lying on the floor. 

The clown that had thrown the knife had made his way to your dad’s body and locked gazes with you. His smile was gone and he was no longer slashing townspeople one by one. He seemed as if he was worried about something.

The clown that had claimed to be the host grabbed Stabby by the neck and threw him back into the auditorium before disappearing behind the doors himself. 

“It’s going to be okay sweetie. They can’t hurt you. There’s nothing you have to worry about,” the woman carrying you said softly as you began to cry. Your father was the only one that cared about you. And you were old enough to know that.

It’s been around a decade since then. You moved out of your mother’s house into your own. You finally had your own space. Your mother didn’t talk to you much after what happened. Only a few words every couple of weeks.

As you grew older, nobody realized your dad was one of the victims. Which led you to make friends. Your best friends were Jennie and Mark, they even wanted to be your roommates. You may not live alone but you still consider this your own space, compared to your mom’s house. 

You laid in your bed as you played on your phone. It was already four in the morning, but you couldn’t sleep. Nothing worked. Listening to classical music, drinking some of Jennie’s chamomile tea, tossing and turning. Now you stared at your white ceiling thinking of other ways to fall asleep. 

Halloween is coming up and you had to think of ways to decorate the house. No wonder why you can’t sleep, your mind always wanders off. Still, you think about all the decorations you have in storage in the attic and think of new ones you could buy. 

As you zone out you see something in the corner of your eye. Quickly looking to the side, you see nothing but your closed closet door and look back up at the ceiling to see swirling patterns begin to slither across. They were navy blue mixed with graphite grey. They were like vines twisting and curling around each other. Your eyebrows furrowed as the vine-like tendrils became bigger like they were getting closer. You feel the smooth tip of the reaching blue vine graze your nose. You attempt to sink further into the bed but as you run out of space the tendril still follows and moves to the side to comfortingly caress the side of your face. It was gentle and you could feel your eyelids becoming heavier. 

Trying to fight it, you struggle to keep your eyes open. Even attempting to hit it away with your hand but another tendril grabbed your wrist, with the utmost care. It laid your hand back down softly as if it didn’t want to cause you any pain, even a little. 

Your eyes were closed by the time the most soothing voice you’ve ever heard say, “You have all the power over me.”

Mark jumping onto your bed while Jennie made an alarm go off on her phone was what woke you up. Mark began to shake you violently as he laughed, “It’s one in the afternoon, lazy ass. Get up.”

You weren’t able to say anything until he finished shaking you. Even then you didn’t say anything and just groaned. Mark and Jennie both started to jump on the bed and stopped abruptly to hear what you had to say.

“Fuck you,” you swiped your leg into theirs to make them fall. Jennie landed on her back on the bed and Mark landed on the floor. 

“So mean,” Mark grumbled from the floor. You sat up and leaned on your elbow to give him a blank look when he popped his head up. 

“So annoying.”

Mark laid back down on the floor to sulk while Jennie turned to you, “Wanna go to the Halloween Fest with us? I know you never go but it’ll be fun.” 

You got up and walked to your bathroom connected to your room, closing the door behind you. You never told them about your father being one of the victims during what they called, Hallow’s Eve Massacre. You had always thought it was a dull name. Created by none other than the group of moms that have nothing better to do than to drink overcomplicated coffee that was too expensive for their small sizes and get into other people’s business like it’s their own.

Standing at the sink you thought about the pros and cons of going. Pros. Delicious seasonal foods, haunted houses, everything scary you love, and getting out of the house with your two best friends.

Cons. Paranoia, especially of clowns and stages, people you don’t like to even be within a ten-mile radius, and going outside.

You supposed the pros outweigh the cons. Who knows, it could be fun.

You regret your decision the moment you walked through the admission stands. Looking around you saw many clowns. Or were they your former classmates? It was hard to tell. None of these-

“Ow!” Landing on your ass you ended up dropping your coffee.

“I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” The man who bumped into you kneeled down to make sure you were okay. You felt like you've seen his face before but couldn't really pinpoint where you've seen him.

"Yeah-yeah. I'm fine," you felt him begin to pull you up by your arms to stand up directly in front of him. “Are you okay? I mean I ran into you-”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good,” you stood there awkwardly and watched as his hand soothingly rubbed your forearms. It felt comforting. His hands were warm and it seeped through your jacket and into your skin. 

“Jennie, I think we’re interrupting something,” Mark joked as he leaned into Jennie’s side like he was whispering to her but spoke in a normal, almost loud voice.

Your face gained a red hue as you stepped away from the man who tried to look into your very soul, “Sorry again. I’ll try to pay more attention.” You stared at the ground and began to quickly walk away from the man.

“Please don’t. I’d love to run into you again sometime,” he called out before turning the other way and continued his path to wherever he was going. You kept walking with Jennie and Mark until you arrived at the part of the fairgrounds where they had all the rides. 

First, you rode the Twirling Tangerines, inside the large oranges there was a wheel you could all turn. Then, you rode the Spider, where you sat in a cart-like box that spun as the arms lifted you up and down.

You were on your way to the haunted house when you turned to Mark, “I think I just saw-” Noticing he’s not with you, you look around the crowd to try and spot him. “Jennie, where’d Mark go?”

She turned to you and looked around as well, “How the hell could we lose him?” She took out her phone from her pocket and clicked on his contact to call him. He didn’t answer.

“We’ll have to split up and look for him,” you shrugged as you headed toward back the way you came and Jennie veering left from the way you were going.

It took almost half an hour before you get a call from Jennie, telling you she found him. She failed to mention the man that Mark had crossed paths with on his adventure. 

You met them at one of the tents where they had a rigged game for people to play as stuffed animals hung from the top. You may or may not have stopped at the apple cider stand on your way to the game tent.

“Woooooow. You didn’t get us any?” Mark was obviously hurt but you didn’t really care. “You shouldn’t have wandered off like you did cause then we’d both have apple cider right now,” you took a sip of your hot drink while looking at him.

Your eyes shift to the man who you had bumped into earlier. You began to cough up the warm beverage that was trying to intrude into your lungs from your sharp intake of breath. Coughing into your sleeve, you tried to breathe again before asking, “What are you doing here?”

“Mark ran into me while I was heading toward the Baker’s Street and he was looking somewhere else,” his smile was so big it made his eyes turned into crescent moons. It almost made you want to smile. He walked closer to you before reaching out his hand to you, “My name’s Jimin. What’s yours?”

You stood there wide-eyed and shocked before snapping out of it and taking his hand. Maybe a bit too eagerly, “Y/n.” You took your hand back and turned to Mark and Jennie, “Ready for the haunted house?”

Mark groaned and Jennie gave an unconvincing “yeah” as she kind of curled into herself. You lead the way and never turned to look if Jimin had ended up following you or went ventured off somewhere else. 

You didn’t really know what to do with guys. Keeping to yourself you never really talked to people. Especially guys so it was kind of new and weird for you to speak with such an attractive guy that wasn’t a close friend like Mark. 

Walking up to the house you showed the wristband you got at the admissions booth to allow you to go in. 

"I'm sorry sir. If you don't have a wristband then I can't let you in," the woman at the entrance practically spat the person she was talking to.

You turned around to see her speaking to Jimin and felt kind of annoyed by how she spoke to him. She didn’t really have any reason to be so rude, that you knew of. “He did have one, I saw it on his wrist a few minutes ago,” you don't know why you were vouching for this guy. You just felt like it, you guessed.

The lady reluctantly nodded him through with a sneer. He smiled politely towards her before joining your group into the dark foyer.

As a dressed up ghoul jumped out in front of you and Jimin, you did nothing but stare blankly at the man while Mark yelped and Jennie gasped. How Jimin ended up next to you, you didn't know. 

Jimin noticed how the jump scare didn't frighten you. He found it intriguing, in fact. You didn’t even bat an eyelid. 

“Where’s Mark?” Jimin’s head snapped to you as you looked around for your not-so-bright friend once again. Jimin began to look around with you.

“You must be fucking kidding me,” Jennie sighed before saying, “I’ll go look for him so he doesn’t make any weird friends in here.”

Leaving you and Jimin alone, you kept walking through the hallways and up the staircase. Many people attempted to scare you but none of them succeeded. And Jimin tried not to laugh at your reaction to their attempts. It’s not that he was making fun of you. He was just amused how much effort the actors put into being frightening and all they get is your eyebrow raised at most. 

You felt Jimin take your hand gently and slowly tighten his grip into a comfortable hold, “I’m scared.” 

Immediately, you could tell he wasn’t scared at all. He just wanted a reason to hold your hand like he was smooth. But you didn’t really have the heart to take your hand away. And you didn’t really want to. You felt him come closer to you bit by bit until your shoulders were rubbing against each other.

“You wouldn’t mind if I held you would you?” Jimin broke the eerie silence that sat between you two.

“Why do you want to?” you found the question odd but weren’t completely opposed to it. You weren’t a hoe but he just made you feel comfortable. 

“Cause I want to get closer to you.”

“But you’re already close to me,” you smiled. “I suppose.”

He reciprocated your smile and let go of your hand to wrap around your shoulders. He tugged you closer so you were tucked into his side. The warmth from his body kept you from shivering because of the freezing temperatures inside the building. 

Seeing a door crack open not far down the hallway, you expected someone to jump out of the room. Getting close enough to look into the bedroom, no one jumped out. Jimin noticed your interest in the room and peeked inside with you. The only thing in the room was a wardrobe, a desk, a king-sized bed, and a mirror hanging in front of the desk. All were caked with dust. 

“Must be an extra room they decided not to use,” you concluded before you took a glance at Jimin, only to meet his eyes. You quickly looked away and awkwardly scanned the room.

All you heard were his footsteps before feeling his grip your arm to turn you towards him, “Keep your eyes on me.” 

Your cheeks felt like the sun had been shining on them for hours. And as he demanded, you kept your eyes on him. The thumb on the hand that rested on the side of your face came up to slightly pull down your bottom lip.

“You wouldn’t mind, right?” he said quietly then bit his lip while looking at yours.

Shaking your head gently, Jimin kissed you without a second thought. It was rough and hungry. He didn’t hold back for a second. Licking your lips, practically begging for access. You parted your lips slightly and that’s all he needed to slip his tongue into your mouth. No inch was left untouched. He started to walk forward making you walk back until the back of your knees hit the bed. 

After falling back on the bed, Jimin practically ripped off his thick black hoodie, showing the loose white shirt beneath. It was thin and the neckline hung well below his collarbones. The hoodie landed somewhere by the door as he got down on the floor on his knees. He gently took hold of the waistband on your pants before pulling them down slowly. As they pooled around your ankles, he came back up to start peppering kisses along your inner thighs. 

“I’m sorry baby girl, I would take my time with you but I can’t wait anymore,” his voice was thick with arousal as he tore off your shoes, socks, and pants. “I need to have you.”

Jimin ripped your panties from your waist and fell to the floor in shreds, “I’ll get you new ones.” 

Trailing more kisses down your thighs he got closer and closer to your core. His fingers began to skim over your folds and dip between them to land right on your clit. Rubbing small circles around it, his soft lips were at the apex of your thigh. 

He was so gentle with you, you weren’t sure how to feel. Adored, impatient, excited. Personally, you were never the vanilla type.

    Jimin was so close to your core, so close. But he pulled away at the last second. You whined, at which Jimin laughed at, as he pulled his shirt off from over his head. Tossing his shirt away he climbed back up your body.

    “There’s something I need to show you,” Jimin’s eyes were dark with excitement as he hovered over you.

    Your puzzled look was all he needed to continue to show what he meant. He was groaning as his head hung and his expression made it seem like he was in pain. You didn’t understand what was happening until you saw the tendrils coming out from his back. They were cobalt blue. Two were thinner than the other two. They grew and grew towards the ceiling but stopped just short of it. Once they were straight, as if they were stretching, they curled back down towards you and Jimin. They floated in the air and you stared at them. You weren’t appalled. No, you were...curious. You would’ve never thought he was anything other than human. 

    It’s not like you believed in aliens and werewolves it’s just you the type of person that thought, maybe they do exist, maybe they don’t. It looks like they do.

    “Are you gonna fuck me with those or not?” you said half-joking.

    “You’re not disgusted? Horrified?” Jimin could not believe what he was hearing. You wanted him to fuck you with his tentacles. You wanted him.

    “No, why would I be? I’m surprised and I have some questions but those can wait till later. Don’t you think?” you answered honestly and looked Jimin in the eyes while you said it. And after you said it, the tendrils behind Jimin visibly relaxed. 

    Jimin’s eyes lit up for only a second before he attacks your neck with his pillowy lips. One of the smaller tentacles reaches down between your legs causing you to get surprised and you try to close them. Jimin sucks on your neck harder as he held your legs open with his right hand, “It’s okay, jagi. I’ll make you feel good.”

    As Jimin nibbles on a particularly sensitive spot, you moaned. He almost came right then and there. Your voice was already music to his ears. But your moans? Absolutely heavenly. He tried his best to keep his body from shaking from the numerous shivers. Part of him couldn’t even believe that this was happening. He was touching you, breathing in your scent, pleasuring you. It was his dreams coming true and he was intoxicated with everything you.

    The tentacle between your legs began to rub your clit faster than what Jimin did. More moans started to escape you and your head tilted back into the pillows. Jimin was still making his way all-around your neck, making sure he was marking your neck thoroughly. 

You felt the other small tendril circling your entrance. Becoming coated with your arousal. It slowly began to enter, inch by inch. It was about the same thickness as your trusty vibrator at home so you stretched to its girth with ease. Its smooth texture slipped past your walls effortlessly. 

Jimin was starting to groan the deeper the tendril went. His breath became heavy as he nuzzled his face into your neck, “Jagi~ you’re so tight around him. I can’t wait until my cock is inside your hot cunt. Can I, jagiya?”

“Yes, please. I want you to fuck me,” you said brokenly in between moans.

Jimin sat up and quickly unbuttoned his pants and took them off swiftly. The two larger tentacles reached down to you and took off your coat and shirt. You arched from the building pressure in your abdomen just in time for them to take your bra off. 

The tentacle fucking you took up a hastened pace. It was starting to go deeper and deeper with every thrust. The knot in your lower stomach grew tauter. Jimin kissed you feverishly and swallowed your moans as you got closer to the peak. The very last thrust of the tendril made you come the hardest you’ve ever came before. You felt the tendril in your stomach as it spurted. As did every other tentacle and even Jimin’s cock was spewing out cum.

Jimin’s moan was getting you excited again. It was deep and guttural. You were panting as you felt full of his cum and felt more cum on your chest and stomach. 

“I didn’t know all of them had cum,” you chuckled as you regained your breath. 

Jimin laughs with you, “Now you know how I felt the first time I jerked off.”

His statement made you laugh harder as both of you came down from your highs. The appendage slowly began to pull out of your cum-filled cunt. You whimpered from the sensitivity. Jimin’s cum flowed out of your entrance before Jimin plugged you up with the tip of his cock.

Feeling the head, you realized just how big Jimin was. Being too distracted to notice earlier. Jimin could tell your realization by your expression.

“What’s the matter, jagi? Never had anyone this big before?” Jimin knows he was being a tease. Even though he doesn’t want to even think about the others who’ve touched you. Only he can touch you like this. He’s the only one who can pleasure you.

You knew what he was doing. He was getting smug. But you didn’t really have the patience to play games with him.

“Who knows.”

Jimin’s smirk fell as yours grew. Jimin stared into your eyes as he slammed his entire length into you in one thrust.

“You know I’ve stuffed you full. I don’t think there’s even any room for one of my tentacles. I can feel how I’m stretching you,” Jimin wasn’t going to let you win this one. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist to bring you with him as he sat back on his heels. Your chest heaved from his massive girth inside you. One small tendril wrapped around your wrists and held them above your head, the other small one began to circle at your puckered hole while a larger one spread your right cheek to give it room. And lastly, the last, larger tentacle curled around one of your breasts. 

Jimin slowly pulled out his thick cock before slamming back into your hot cunt. His moans mixed with yours as his pace became faster. Soon he was slamming in and out of you at a bruising pace. The appendage at your tight hole caught some of yours and Jimin’s combined cum and lubed you up. 

At first, it only dipped in its tip. After a few thrusts, it started to go further. Still taking on a slow pace, it steadily enlarged your hole. 

Jimin’s right arm let go of your waist to support himself above you as he leaned forward. He was still pistoning in and out of you with no intention of slowing down. Hair stuck to his forehead as did yours. Moans left you uncontrollably as both of your holes were being fucked and your tit was being gripped.

You felt the pressure on your breast vanish before feeling the said tendril slither up your neck. You hear Jimin breathe out a laugh as he saw his appendage shyly touch you.

“I think he wants to know if you could suck him,” Jimin smirked, knowing that’s exactly what it wanted. 

Opening your mouth, the tendril appeared to become a light blue as it took the invitation. You felt the tentacle practically purr from the wetness and warmth from your mouth. It thrusted into you languidly. Not going very deep so it wouldn’t hurt you. 

“Look at you. Being a slut for me. All your holes are filled with parts of me.”

His thrusts were becoming sloppy. And the tendril in your mouth was going down into your throat until you were gagging with every plunge. Your ass was so stretched out you knew that there was going to be a gap now. Maybe not a large one but there will be one. And Jimin was still pounding your swollen cunt with his massive girth. 

The tendril around your wrists let go to reach down to rub your clit in quick, small circles. You’re loud, almost screaming moans were muffled by the deep throating appendage.

You could feel you were getting so close to your release. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach building. By Jimin’s groans growing louder and his sloppy pace, you tell he was close too. 

He opened his eyes to see your body being completely surrounded by him. He let his arm fall around your waist again but he laid his head between your tits and put the rest of his energy into the last few hard pumps and stilled as he felt your walls flutter around him. 

Your eyes rolled into your skull and Jimin squeezed his eyes closed tightly. Your walls milked Jimin’s cock as it pulsed and shot cum inside you. You felt all the tentacles pulse out cum into your throat, ass, and onto your clit and mound. 

Reaching up to Jimin’s hair, you carded your fingers through the strands. Both of you were trying to calm your breathing down. Jimin was still coming but the tendril down your throat pulled out so you could breathe more easily. 

Jimin began to kiss your sternum after he came down from his high. You glanced down and back up, only to glance down again to notice a visible bulge in your stomach, that's still growing. 

"How much cum do you have?!" you exclaimed as you watched it grow bit by bit. 

"Don't pretend you don't like it," Jimin's smug attitude was still there as he knew he was right by your silence.

Jimin reluctantly pulled out of you and he didn’t mind how much cum was pouring out of your cunt. He knew there were going to be many more times like this. And that’s when he’ll worry about keeping you plugged up but for now, he just wanted to fall asleep next to you.

He pulled your exhausted body back up to the pillows with using the help from his now sky blue tentacles before they slowly retracted back into the slits in his back. 

“We should probably go, Mark and Jennie might be worried about us,” trying to sit up Jimin pulled you back down.

“No need to be in a hurry, jagi. You’re too exhausted to go out looking for him-them right?” Jimin brushed the hair from your forehead so he could see your eyes more clearly.

“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s just hope none of the employees find us,” you huffed out a laugh as you snuggled further into the covers. 

Jimin wrapped his arms around you and entangled his legs with yours. He wasn’t able to even doze off until you were sound asleep. He tried not to think about what just happened so he wouldn’t become hard and wake you up. He needed the whole night to transform this place back to the original with how worn out he is.

“Goodnight jagi. Tomorrow you’ll start your new life here with me. In our own haunted house.”

You woke up to Jimin hugging you tightly beneath the warm blanket that you had dirtied just a few hours ago. Your muscles didn’t want to make any effort to move so you had to lay there until you had the energy to get up and get dressed. Stretching out your legs a bit you felt a crack somewhere in your spine. You’re puzzled about how that would affect your back but you don’t worry about it. Nuzzling back into Jimin’s neck, you finally remembered Jennie and Mark being in the house with you. They must have gone home without you given how long it’s been.

They were adults, no reason to really worry about them. You tucked the blanket over your shoulder to hide from the cold draft. Jimin felt you moving around so he got impossibly closer to you and pulled the blanket up to his neck so it covered most of your head.

You groaned and tilted your head up causing your chin to rest on his chest making your lips pout. He cracked an eye open to see what you were doing. Seeing your sleepy, pouty face made him let out a breathy chuckle.

Jimin leaned down to kiss your forehead, “Did you sleep well?” He continued his kisses all over your face, moving down to reach your nose.

“Mm-hm,” your eyes were still closed when you thought about what it was. “Do you know what time it is?”

“No,” he kept smothering your face in kisses.

“I have to go home soon.”

“No.”

“No? I kinda do. I need clean clothes, I need a shower, and I need to check up on Jennie and Mark,” you began to untangle yourself from Jimin’s arms and legs only to have him roll you over to lay on you. “Jimin~ I have to get up,” laughing you tried to roll back over Jimin had you completely pinned. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said quietly into your ear before he kissed right below your lobe. “My marks are fading already, stay still.”

You huffed as he darkened the already almost purple hickeys on your neck, “After this, you have to get off me so I can go home.” 

“But you can’t go home. You live here now, with me,” he pushed himself up with his forearms on the mattress. His eyes were stone. But they were warm as they bore into yours. “You’re not leaving me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” you whispered as you maintained eye contact. “How can either of us live here when it’s just a stage for townspeople to dress up and scare people?”

“It seems, you haven’t noticed the change in the room,” Jimin smirked as his eyes left yours to scan the room, causing you to follow his actions. 

The room was no longer a dirty beige with dust-covered furniture. It’s the same exact room except, it was gray. Everything in the room was gray beside you two. The window that had light from the fair shining through was completely blacked out. And the mirror above the desk was completely shattered. Little to no pieces remained in the frame. 

“Besides, your friends tried to find us but they kind of got trapped,” He laid back down next to you and rested his head on his hand. “So there’s no need to worry about them, sweetheart.”

You pushed his arm off and swung your legs onto the floor but you felt the familiar wetness from one of Jimin’s tentacles wrap around your abdomen. It made you sit back down and pulled you back to Jimin.

“It’s true that you have all the power over me. However, that doesn’t mean I’ll let you go.”

Your heart undoubtedly fluttered.