#still weird they were so quiet on christmas and would love sign of life from phil

[dandp]

I didn't remember them being quite so radio silent before but I looked and last year at this time they were fully quiet for 2+ weeks so I think we might be in this for a bit longer 😔

[captainsimagines]

pretty woman, this is me trying || eleven

Summary: Bucky Barnes does not like to be touched. He’s completely ready to live a distant life and give up when the time is right. Until Stark hires him his own personal pretty woman. Over time, Bucky Barnes begins to learn how to touch again. How to feel again. How to love himself again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female SexWorker!Reader

Trope(s): Holiday Fanfic ; Slow-Burn ; Friends to Lovers

Based on the Song(s): sweet nothing by Taylor Swift and Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

(11/14)

Mini-Series

Warnings: unprotected sex; overthinking idiots; past references to SA

Word Count: 2,680+

~

     Bucky had asked to come over and spend the night since tomorrow he would be overstimulated. It was a way to prepare himself, he said. Quiet before the chaos, a singular person to speak with before the nameless faces, the smell of a home before expensive alcohol.  

Although, knowing Tony, he’d definitely go all out and spice the place up with some notes of pine, cinnamon, and peppermint.

For now, Bucky was content to lay on your sofa and watch you play with Axel. The older dog jumped from one side to the other, barking in between pats on the head.

“Do you love me more than you love Bucky?”

“Hey, watch it.”

“Whisper it to me.”

Bucky sighed your name as he slid from the couch to the floor. “Don’t put ideas into his head.”

“We should think about getting him a friend!” To that, Axel sneezed and snorted.

“That was a weird sound,” Bucky pointed out, genuinely worried. It was a combination of breathing in and clearing the throat, and it sounded like it hurt.

“It’s probably allergies. Fall and winter do that to animals.”

“Dogs can get allergies?”

You hummed, smoothing the fur on Axel’s back. “Lainey’s dog used to get a yearly injection that helped with it. Or sometimes dogs breathe in things that block their nostrils. Something like that. He’ll pass it soon.”

Bucky grimaced, still unconvinced. “I��m going to overthink.”

You giggled, “I entirely expect you to. You’re a new dad, you have every right.”

Bucky blushed at that description. He had thought about having children in the 40s. Find a cute girl, either Jewish or Catholic to appease his parents, and pop out about four kids. Then the draft stole him from that opportunity and—

Bucky always wanted to be a dad. Nowadays, he’s not so sure.

He watched you brush through Axel’s hair, wondering if you planned on having children. If you could have children. If you never even thought about it.

If Bucky were going to have children still, he thinks having one with you would be nice.

“I’ll take him to the vet with you in the New Year. But trust me, it’s nothing to worry about.”

Bucky doesn’t know why he allowed negative thoughts to taint this moment. Why he was thinking about it at all, really. It wasn’t like you gave him any indication of doing him dirty after all this.

But that voice was impossible to ignore as it cruelly whispered, She won’t just be yours in the New Years.  

“You… You still want to be my friend in January?”

“What? Was there a deadline to my friendship or—” Your realization sits like a block of wet cement in his stomach.  “...Something.”

He avoided eye contact as he said, “Stark pays you after the Christmas Ball.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t want to leave you.”

Fuck, your voice was so sincere as you said it, too. He didn’t doubt you wanted to remain his friend. But all your time was literally scheduled for him right now. What’s going to happen when your schedule clears and he’s simply back to being one of your clients?

Bucky was a client.

“You weren’t paid for more.”

You stopped petting Axel to look directly at him, angry. “I’m going to need you to stop reminding me of that, or trying to make me feel guilty for it.”

“It’s true. You wouldn’t have tried speaking to me if there weren't dollar signs attached,” he said, shrugging his heavy shoulders.

“Are you trying to get me to scream at you? Of course I wouldn’t have! You’re an Avenger, I’m a civilian. That’s like flirting with a celebrity and hoping they can get past the fact that I’m nothing.”

He grimaced, “Don’t call yourself nothing.”

“You’re treating me like a hooker,” you enunciated, voice low.

Bucky scoffed, standing to distance himself from you. From the conversation his dumbass had thrown himself in. “I’ve never once treated you like a hooker.”

It was silent for a few seconds. Bucky listened to the wisps from the candles, a sound you probably couldn’t even hear. He focused on the smell of the cookies you had just taken out of the oven. He focused on his own, damaged mind and how it dug a gigantic hole for him to jump in.

In the quietest voice he had ever heard from you, unnatural indeed, you breathed, “You just did.”

Something in his chest turned. Froze over and condemned him to Hell. He was back in that freezer, forced to watch the world spin on as he couldn’t lift a muscle.

Good, he thought. He deserved it.

You shook your head, as if physically shaking his words off you, and went to stand. “Look, if you didn’t want me… Then why did you ask for me?”

He said nothing. A muscle jumped in his cheek but still, he said nothing.

Because he hadn’t asked for you. He had sat back and followed an order.

“Look at me,” you confronted him. “I’m accepting that money because it’s a part of the job. But I will be your friend afterward. I will clear my schedule just to share breakfast with you. To walk Axel with you. You are my friend.”

“I can give you money.”

You reared back as if you had been hit. “How is that different?”

“A one time exchange. It’s not attached to my time or my sanity.”

You stared at him for a long while, blinking in confusion. In shock maybe, Bucky wasn’t so sure. “You’re gonna give me one hundred thousand dollars?”

“I will give you the sun and all its solar flares if it means remaining your friend.”

Something raw danced in your eyes. As if his words hit a sensitive patch.

Had you ever been in love? Had any of your clients pulled such a reaction from you? Had someone from your past nearly convince you to stay with them in your hometown?

Bucky wanted to be the only one. The only one to occupy your time, to share a seat at your dinner table, to joke around with.

At this point, you had helped heal half his soul. He could do without the other half if it meant remaining in your thoughts.

“Don’t try to buy me,” you commanded, swiping a stray hair from your forehead.

“Do you see my problem now?”

Your shoulders slumped. You stared at him with obvious indecision. Then, softly and without much anger added, you said, “You weren’t supposed to like me so much.”

This wasn’t just a friendship anymore. Not just companionship. Bucky hadn’t felt this way ever, not even before the war. He was either worrying about tuberculosis, paying rent, or getting shot. Never had he felt like he was allowed to just worry about one thing. To just worry about someone falling in love with him or not.

“But I do,” he admitted, matching your shrug. He stepped closer, pausing in case you wanted to take a step back. You remained where you were, arms at your side and watching him move.

“I’m not used to it,” you whispered, your eyes turning softer as Bucky cupped your cheeks in his hands. He laid his forehead against yours, holding you steady.

“Me neither.”

He could hear your heartbeat. If he listened too closely, he could also hear the blood rushing through your veins.

When he was forced on his stomach and told to lie still, he had tuned out the world and focused on the systems working inside his body. Listening to his cold blood was one of them. In those hours of pure horror, his blood swished and churned at the speed of light. No barriers, no stops, no obstacles to burst through.

Your blood ran, but ran warm.

A tear slipped from his eye, moistening his upper lip.

“Bucky…” you breathed, reaching up to cup his hands with yours.

“Can I touch you?”

He shut down the cruel voice purring at him, replacing it instead with his own.

He is your friend. Not your client.

You have a choice in who you sleep with. He is not forcing you.

He has a choice in who touches him. And you respect that.

He is your friend. You are his.

And he wants you.

You nodded quickly, lifting your eyes up to his. “Yes.”

Verbal permission was all he needed.

It takes a lot less time to strip each other of your multiple layers. To lay each other down and decide through gentle touches and soft words how you both wanted this to play out. Every kiss, every lick, every grip from your hands had Bucky seeing stars. Those stars that shined just for a single person, never for the rest of the world. Those stars hidden behind the fame chasers, their light stronger than those that came before them.

He responded to each one of your moans, listened to the sentences you formed, followed your fingers as they trailed down his naked chest. It was the knowledge that you enjoyed this too, that you wanted to take pleasure in his pleasure, that helped him stifle the voices in his head. He’d be lying if he said those voices weren’t talking non-stop, adding hideous meanings to everything you did. Voices that tried to convince Bucky you were faking this, that he was hurting you instead of loving you.

But all he had to do was look at you, hear your tender voice speak kind words he thought his mind would never fathom. All that trust that had been cultivated between you two over the last three weeks thus supporting his weight and helping him support yours.

“Are you sure?” you whispered, completely bare beneath him. Your chest brushed against his, a rather holy feeling. He had already spent fifteen minutes studying the feeling of each breast with his tongue.

“I’m sure,” he responded, holding his hard cock in his flesh hand, angling it toward your warm heat. You looked wetter than last time, and felt wetter, too. He ran the tip across your slit, reveling in the small sounds it pulled from your throat, then slowly pressed inside.

His body responded unlike what he originally believed.

Territorial, but in your beautiful favor.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, adjusting your hips. Bucky pushed in a little deeper, savoring the squeeze. He monitored every emotion that passed on your face, everything that was uttered from your lips. He did not want to detach his pleasure from yours.

He at least knew that. Sex was enjoyable when all members were enjoying it.

“You feel so good,” Bucky admitted, dipping his face into the crook of your neck. Once he was fully seated inside, he lowered his chest those few inches more so you were attached completely. You grasped at his back, keeping your nails from puncturing his skin. Then Bucky began moving, began chasing what he had lost so many years ago, only to find it much more polished and refined than the last time he saw it.

When there was a certain angle he hit that made you shout repeatedly, he made sure to hit it again and again. At a slow pace, deep, working that coil in your stomach to its bare bones. The base of his own spine tightened and drove him forward, begging him to bury himself inside you for all hours of the day.

And if his body cooperated, he wouldn’t argue with that prospect.

“Another,” you breathed, the word a struggle to form. “Another position.”

Bucky carefully removed himself from you, waiting as you readjusted yourself at the foot of the bed. But his breath caught in his lungs as you bent over, facing away from him, presenting yourself in all your eagerness.

“No,” he said, turning away.

“The mirror, Bucky,” you reasoned, holding yourself up with flat palms. “The mirror is right there. You’ll be able to see my face the entire time.”

He swallowed, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“You don’t even have to bend me over. Just hold me up, be behind me, try this with me.”

He hadn’t explicitly told you that this position wasn’t a good one for him. You probably pieced it together yourself. He didn’t want to think you were using this time to experiment, to hold up your end of the bargain. That would kill him.

But it was the light across your face, the innocence splattered there that showed Bucky you were just giving him the chance. The option. If he said no again, then you would plop right back down onto your back and enjoy it all the same.

Bucky doesn’t think he could ever be in that position himself again. It’s why he worked out alone, never danced to modern music, and why he piled pillows in front and behind him when he slept. It’s the one thing he won’t ever experiment with.

Having you in that position was ultimately a chance for Bucky to take something back. It wasn’t an invitation to do what was done to him, but to create an alternate image. A new image. Placing himself as the person behind, watching through the mirror as this position brought his partner pleasure.

He settled behind you, lifting you up. He slowly traced his hands down your body, over your breasts, over your stomach. The mirror offered him an amazing view. A thin layer of sweat covering both your bodies; your hair was disheveled, visible goosebumps erupted along your arms and thighs, and a delicious shine coated your inner thighs.

Bucky kicked your knees further apart, smiling when your voice jumped, and plunged back into you. Spreading a palm over your chest and a metal one across your lower stomach, he delighted in the new angle. Watching as your jaw slacked, how your throat bobbed with each difficult swallow, how your eyes closed then widened whenever he hit a particular spot. He watched it all through the mirror, how his cock went in and out of you. It was slightly visible—perhaps it would be obvious if he spread you even wider.

“Look at how I fuck you,” he groaned, holding your chin up as it threatened to fall. He met your gaze in the mirror, grinning as his words caused you to mewl wildly. “I want you to come around me. Can you do that?”

You nodded, your voice apparently still strangled. Your breathing quickened, and after a few deep thrusts, you complied. Coming around him with a shout, pushing your ass back to him in a plea to aid you until the end.

Bucky held you close to his chest, relishing in the complete warmth, and laid his sweaty cheek against yours. His hair fell from the hair tie, cascading in rich waves. He tried to plant kisses on your cheek, but it was hopeless. He came with a soft groan, cheek on cheek, his breath mingled with yours.

His trust in you glowing brilliant.

Afterward, he ran a bath and thanked the Heavens that your bathtub was big enough to fit yourself and a super soldier. You filled it with bubbles and lit a peppermint-scented candle. The two of you spent an hour cleaning up—or rather, thirty minutes cleaning and thirty minutes making Santa beards from the bubbles.

He would call that entirely productive.

~

    Your finger hovered over the button for ten minutes. Bucky peacefully slumbered on the left side of your bed, on his stomach and snoring softly. There were scars along his back, stretching down to his slender hips. His lower half was covered with the blanket, but you had seen the scars on his bottom and thighs, too.

Every inch of him was bruised and battered, deserving of kisses and gentle brushes.

You messaged your clients a short paragraph explaining why you were no longer able to take appointments or engage in sexual activity with them. The same paragraph, none mentioning finding someone else instead.

Then you finally clicked the button, and deleted your account.

~

[mountswhore]

𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 — mason mount

summary: chelsea’s massage therapist, and mason’s long term crush, had moved to a different club. but after reuniting at nationals, you realise just how much you missed him.

notes: requests are open, just ask! this is so fucking long, please read when you have time.

“I will take care of you.” + “I could never get tired of you.”

for @masterclassbaby

“she’s pretty,” mason hummed, chin in the palm of his hands and eyes gazing at you. chelsea’s newest sports massage therapist. he watched as you conversed with a few of the injured teammates, the boys on either side of him laughing at his blushed cheeks.

“mounty’s in love.” chilly sang, pushing mason gently. the three of them were laying on the turf, waiting for their trainer to arrive and being introduced to the pretty lady who would be massaging their injured limbs from now on. “go on, make a move before kai does. you know he will.”

“i’m not making any moves,” mason huffed and pushed himself to his feet, ben following suit and pulling a ball towards him with his foot, “can i appreciate her beauty without wanting to make a move?” ben rolled his eyes at his friend, eyes now focused on the ball for the first time in twenty minutes.

“so you’re just going to stare at her, like a creep.” ben stated, stopping the ball with the side of his foot and kicked it back to mason. “noted.” mason was barely focused, looking over to you every time you laughed or your voice echoed. he’d laugh with you, crinkling his nose when you did, it was sickening.

ben had kicked the ball to mason’s feet, where is stilled and hadn’t even broken his stare. he had ‘regained control of the ball’ by kicking mason’s ankles, which had definitely caught his attention and caused him to hiss in pain. “you fucker, what did you do that for?”

“i just gave you a reason to talk to her, you clown.” ben revealed sarcastically, mason limping over to you as you held a look of concern.

“everything okay, mount?” you politely asked, the slight touch on his back as well as hearing his name fall from your mouth was sending him into a frenzy. he just nodded, and followed you inside to where your new office resided. “what the hell happened? last time i looked, you were kicking a ball about with chilly.”

your voice was as silky as he’d imagined. “yeah, he’s a bit slow. so he thought kicking me in the ankles would be a wise idea.” you couldn’t help but giggle at the man’s joke, avoiding his gaze as you were sure to blush. this man was attractive, but it was your first day, you had to remain professional.

“i better get to work,” you huffed, rubbing some hand sanitiser onto your hands and pulling his socks down. “we can’t have chelsea’s best player injured a few days before the game,” you’d finally met eyes and stared at each other for a brief second, before bashful looking away.

“you think that?” mason almost sounded unsure of himself.

“of course,” you grinned and applied some pressure to the side of his ankle, “i’d say you’re one of the best.” mason hummed almost silently, resting his head back on the table. it didn’t hurt, and if anything, he’d have to thank chilly for kicking his ankles, as it got you two talking.

weeks had passed, mason visiting your office most days with random excuses.

“my legs are fine. but maybe a shoulder rub for good luck?”

“i bought you a smoothie.”

“it’s cold outside, and i told the boys my thighs were sore.”

“now i’m just bored.”

every time he’d appear, you’d just pull up a chair instead of prepping the table. he’d talk to you about the most random of things, the pair of you having an intense debate on whether or not ross and rachel were on a break. he’d quickly become your favourite visitor.

“mr. mount, to what do i owe the pleasure?” you questioned, knowing it was him just by the way he fiddled with the handle before opening the door. he grinned at the nickname, sitting in the desk chair beside you.

“i actually came to ask if you wanted to go for a drink tonight. the boys were meant to, but now it looks like i’m all alone.” mason explained, a white lie thrown into the mix. he wasn’t being left by the boys, he asked them to cancel, so he could spend some with you. “so, you fancy it?”

“sure.” you smiled, accepting his invitation before you could overthink your way into cancelling. “i’ll text you my address.” he nodded his head, resting his head on his hands as you got on with paperwork. you could see out of the corner of your eye, he was staring at you as you worked. he had no training to be getting on with, and saw a better pastime in watching you work.

when you’d finally finished work and gotten yourself dressed up, mason was even more in awe of you. you looked adorable at work, and now he’d seen you in a new light. it’s like seeing your crush outside of school, it’s weird not seeing them in uniform, but seeing a new layer of them was good. he’d picked you up and taken you to the nicest pub he could find, it was a quiet one. it was a pub you had to pay extra for to sit on the terrace with a table to yourself. but he was willing to go the distance.

“it’s weird not seeing you in your kit.” you mentioned, staring at his impeccable sense of fashion. like he’d been ripped from the front page of asos. mason chuckled loudly and sipped on his beer, after doing a brief ‘cheers’ with you. it was british tradition, after all.

“i know. i’m used to seeing you in leggings and a chelsea top.” mason observed, his cheeks blushing at the way you looked at him. he felt the butterflies begin to swarm in his stomach, like they did on the way here. “now you’re in a dress, i can see your legs.” his eyes widened at the weird statement that just fell from his lips, face burning with embarrassment. “sorry, that sounded so creepy.”

you burst into laughter, feeling anything but disturbed. in fact, you felt more comfortable with him. “don’t worry about it, you’re easy to feel comfortable with.” mason took this chance to hide his rosy cheeks by sipping on his beer. the pair of you conversed for well over an hour, your conversations from work spilling into the mix too. and soon enough you were laughing on the walk back to your home.

“that’s hilarious. i can’t believe we could’ve almost met years ago.” you exclaimed, mason proud of recalling that memory. the pair of you remembered an awful christmas concert that happened in a town near central london, and were almost inches apart unknowingly covering your ears at the screeches made by the backup singers.

you’d ended up at your door, mason standing just centimetres away from your face. you knew what he wanted, and you wanted it to. so, with the confidence given to you by the mixer you’d just downed a while ago, you closed the gap between you and engaged in a sweet kiss with him. it was well overdue, mason’s teammates would say as he told them the following day.

you’d settled in really nicely with the team, enjoying every day you spent at the training grounds. you’d only been on that one drink date with mason, always planning to reschedule another but you’d both be too busy to do so. it didn’t stop you from texting nonstop and have some late night facetime calls. you were really beginning to like each other. it was as if nothing could ruin your happiness you felt with your life at this moment.

until you’d been pulled aside and told by chelsea’s own manager that a man united massage therapist had quit, offering you the job. it would mean your whole life would shift, you’d have to move, you’d have to make friends with a team all over again, and leave mason. you couldn’t bear telling him, which you’d also been told to do. you’d have to break the news to your beloved team, who would come and cheer with you after a win, and always pester you with random requests. you were each of their’s personal assistant almost, loving your relationship with them all. and mason, you knew he’d be crushed, the girl he was so deeply falling for, being told to move to another club.

you were on edge since that very morning, not being your usual joking self with your boys as they came in for their sessions. you’d weakly smile at them and make small talk whilst tending to their stiff joints, then let them leave. all the boys carried on with their day, assuming you were just having a bad day. but mason could see through you, he could tell something was playing on your mind.

as you were putting pressure on mason’s ankle, which he’d been take off the pitch for last week, he grabbed your arm gently. sitting up, he pulled you close to him and held you how he usually did. his hands grazing your sides and his eyes almost burning holes into your own. “talk to me, pretty. what’s on your mind?”

you shook your head. “i’d go easy on the foot today, mount. i don’t want to see you benched next game.” would you even be able to see their next game? it brought you close to tears throughout the day, but being trapped in a room with mason, you were bound to cry and tell him everything.

his grip didn’t leave your arm, instead he pulled you closer to him and held you close to his chest, now standing and towering over you. you felt a sob erupt through your chest, opening the flood gates as you cried into him. he’d never seen you like this, you were always his smiling ball of sunshine. “talk to me, y/n.”

“they’re moving me.” you simply stated, hoping not to say another word and him just understand completely. but it didn’t work like that, none of the team knew. mason would be the first to know, and you had to tell the rest of the team before the day was up. as this weekend you’d be arranging accommodation in manchester whilst you looked for permanent residence, as well as meeting the team and staff you’d be working for.

“what?”

“they’re moving me to united, mase. a therapist quit over there and they asked for me, your manager signed me over a few days ago. and i’m gonna be leaving you boys.” you explained, mason’s grip on you loosening as he tried to come to terms with what you were saying. he’d had his fair share of bad news in his life, but this was the biggest blow he’d felt in a while.

“they can’t do that,” mason stuttered over his tears, a frown cast upon his face, “they can’t just expect you to pack up and leave.” you placed your hands over his cheeks, forcing him to look down at you. that’s when his tears began to fall, looking so vulnerably at each other in this time of sadness.

“they can, mason. and they have, i need to go this weekend to meet the team and look to move up there.” you admitted, your hands refused to leave his face. you were soaking up every bit of mason you could before you left. long-distance didn’t work for either of you, especially with how busy you both were. the only time you’d see each other would be if chelsea were to play united.

“i can’t lose you, y/n.” he confessed, pulling you into him and resting his head above yours. it wasn’t just losing a girl he was seeing, it was losing someone he loved. he’d fallen deeply in love with you — but telling you would just hinder your movement. he couldn’t make it any harder than it was, it would ruin you. he just had to let you go.

that afternoon, you’d thought about what you were going to say and met the boys on the pitch. the second mason saw you, it took everything in him to not cry into his hands. but he managed to stay strong. you stood weakly beside the team manager, avoiding everyone’s eyes and fiddling with your jumper sleeves.

“afternoon boys,” you greeted them, hearing a few cheers and whistles, they loved you, “i have some news. today will be my last day working with you. i’ve been transferred to united, which will take full effect this weekend. you guys have my number if you just want to talk rubbish, or have any questions for me.” it was a long while of hugging them all, laughing with them and repeating little inside jokes with them.

“what are you going to do without me, huh?” you asked reece, who just chuckled and gave you a squeeze. “i’ll miss you all, you know who i’ll be cheering on if you ever go against united.”

you’d settled in at united perfectly, but something was missing. it was always going to feel this way, nothing would ever break the bond you shared with the chelsea boys. even when they went head to head, and you’d catch mason’s eyes on the pitch, you��d have to hide your smile when they scored, and try even harder if mason was the one putting it in the back of the net. you got on well with the boys here, but you found yourself missing the boys back at chelsea, and most of all, mason.

months had passed since your move to manchester, and you were heading out of your office on a particular tiring friday afternoon, walking past united’s manager, who always seemed to be on his way to something.

“ah, y/n, just who i needed to see.” he commented, stopping you as you were headed out to find a late rashford for his session. “keep an eye on your emails tonight, please. you’ve been included in an international offer.” you nodded, not hearing anything past the word ‘email’. and when you’d gotten home that evening, waiting for your takeaway to arrive, you mindlessly scrolled your emails.

something about the upcoming world cup, saying you’d been selected as the teams massage therapist. it burned your eyes as you danced around your tiny living room; so happy to have a chance at seeing any of the chelsea boys again. you’d thought that after all these months of just seeing mason’s face in his instagram posts, he’d have forgotten about you and moved on. but it was the furthest from the truth.

mason watched over your socials for months, seeing your various pictures with the likes of rashford, shaw, and lingard. he made sure you had friends and was having a good time up north. but every night he’d go to bed, yearning for you and the time you both spent together. missing your first kiss, missing hearing the sound of your laugh in real life, not just through another footballers videos. he missed spending hours on the phone. and although he had a chance to reconnect with you, it would be too much for the both of you to handle. he’d miss you so much more, knowing you were simply unobtainable.

after signing all of the correct documents to show you could in fact work for the national team, you were on your way to the training grounds and coping with living in the camp alongside the boys and other members of staff. it was better than your tiny manchester apartment, that was for sure. you weren’t really needed outside for training, so you set up your office and began on your paperwork. time passed a lot quicker here than it did when you worked at united, it was nearing your lunch break already. a knock was placed at your door, bringing your out of your work daze.

“hello, stranger.” you heard from behind you, heart overjoyed that it was actually him. it was your mason. you turned round to greet him, standing up and immediately pulling him into a hug. it felt familiar, the only bit of familiarity you had in this place. “god, i missed you.” he even smelt the same, as creepy as it was to say.

“i knew you’d be called up,” you admitted to him, looking up at his red face. it was just like the first time, he was so nervous to talk to you, “you’re still my best player.” his hands found your cheeks, taking advantage of the affection not feeling awkward. it was as if you never left.

“you don’t understand how much i’ve missed you all these months, y/n,” he whispered, face centimetres away from yours. “how much i’ve wanted to kiss you again.” you wanted it too, you finally felt like you found your missing piece. but you had to remain professional, this was national level now, not just club level.

“trust me,” you whispered back at him, holding your hands above his own, “i’ve wanted to kiss this pretty face, too. but we have to be professional.” he nodded, understanding that if they were caught, you’d be the one facing repercussions, not him. so he respected your choice and stood back.

“what about when the day’s over, and we go back to the camp,” he suggested, a hand on your shoulder to stop you from turning around, “what would you say to me then?” you just shrugged, sitting back down in your chair and continuing your work. the remainder of your day was quiet, just talking about a few people tomorrow that have stiff joints that need loosening. you’d made your way back to camp, opening your door and sighing as you took your shoes off.

what room are you in? mason texted, waiting outside his door.

you’re eager, i just finished work. but i’m on the floor above you, room 39. you texted him back, speedily changing your attire for something more comfortable and freshening up. mason would be up here within seconds. and whilst there were no rules stating that the squad shouldn’t be in staff members rooms, it felt wrong.

“you’re gonna have to leave when nobody can see you.” you sighed, opening your door to an eager mason. he wormed past you and sat on your bed, semi annoyed that your bed was comfortable than his.

“so not only do you get a room to yourself, you get a bed that doesn’t feel like a plank of wood.” mason stated, clearly getting comfortable on your bed. “i just might have to stay here.” you rolled your eyes and sat beside him, resting your head on the pillow. “you tired?”

instead of saying anything, you nodded and inched closer to him. his right hand was drawing delicate patterns on your exposed arm, whilst the other was wrapped around you. this was the moment he wanted with you, even when you were working at chelsea. but it’s happening now and that’s all he cared about. holding the girl he still deeply loved in his arms.

“i’ll go down to dinner soon,” he mentioned, even if you could hear him or not, “maybe i’ll bring you something up.” a small kiss was placed on your temple, mason snuggling into you a bit more.

the next day, you knew you had some sessions. so you were up early, a text from mason on your phone.

i left late last night, i fell asleep once i came back from dinner. i hope you had a good night.

you blushed at his text, getting yourself prepared for the day. the boys had a match coming up soon and you wanted to be on top of your game, making sure they were all stretched and ready. you sat in your office, prepping your table and your paper work for the first person to enter.

you’d worked with grealish, bellingham, and lingard today. and they only had a few more hours training until they were done for the day. you sighed in your seat and rested your head against your desk, arms and hands sore. your handle was violently shoved down, your door opening in the process. startled, you watched declan carry his best mate in.

“he rolled his ankle taking a kick,” declan explained, helping his friend onto the table. you quickly sanitised your hands and pulled his sock down to observe his ankle. “will he be okay for the game in a few days?”

“yes, dec. he’ll be out in no time.” you reassured his friend, mason smiling through the sharp pain shooting through his ankle. declan had left shortly afterwards, leaving you to giggle at mason.

“what you giggling at, hm?” mason questioned, a finger tickling your side. you squirmed and brushed a hand over his head, his features relaxing under your touch.

“it’s always the ankles, hm?” you retorted, mason rolling his eyes before letting out a laugh of his own. “let’s get you back on your feet in time for this game.” you had taken his boot and sock off, applying gentle pressure to the sides of his ankle and seeing how badly he reacted to the pain.

after the next few days of training, it was finally time for the match. you stood nervously on the side of the pitch, watching the ball being passed around. you watched as it had gone to mason, someone from the opposing team sliding into mason, and knocking his ankles together. he fell and began to yell in pain, the medics rushing over to him and assessing the pain. after realising it was not too serious, but he still had to be taken off, they’d given the job to you.

mason sat on one of the chairs beside you, head leaned back as you pulled his socks down. he winced as your small, cold fingers had pressed different parts of his ankle, but it didn’t feel bad. in fact, it was quite relieving. “it really is always the ankles,” mason finally agreed, making you chuckle and sit on the floor opposite him, “god, it fucking hurts.”

“i will take care of you,” you mentioned, your hand sliding into his. he smiled at the contact, his free hands gently tickling your side. this small amount of public affection felt scary, but good. you knew someone would pick up on it, but you didn’t care in the slightest. you had been away from mason for far too long. months and months apart, yearning for each other every second you were awake.

when the match was over, england scoring a whopping 4-0, mason was by your side for the rest of the evening. even getting onto the coach to go home, he sat beside you the whole way; his hand in yours and his head gently resting against your shoulders. when heading back to camp, knowing you had a day’s break before the boys were back on for training again in time for the next match, mason followed you to your room. you didn’t mind, neither did anybody else really.

you’d gotten into bed beside him that night, eyes heavy from the amount of work you’d both put in today, and the buzzed feeling from declaring victory had awoken something in him. he had the urge to kiss you, like he has every moment he’s spent with you recently, but more than that. he wanted to tell you he loved you, but decided to keep quiet. he wanted to save it for another day, maybe someday more special, when you weren’t trying to catch up on sleep between games.

“are you tired of me?” mason asked, releasing his voice into the darkness. he had no idea whether you were awake or asleep, as half an hour had passed of you both enjoying each other’s presence. you were wide awake, although your eyes told a different story.

“i’m tired in general,” you admitted, rolling over to face him, barely catching his pearly whites in the dark, “but i could never get tired of you.” mason’s heart was beating through his chest, reaching out for your hand to place onto it. it was a special moment — feeling his heart rapidly paced from your words, you’d barely noticed mason’s arm around you as he pulled you into him.

“good, because i’m not letting you go again,” he spoke quietly, your hand now replaced with your head, feeling his pulses on your cheekbone. you smiled for the millionth time that day, happy you had your mason back.

[snowywrites]

Monika x Fem!reader

summary: fluffy fic of Monika and the reader on the reader's birthday.

word count: 2.4k

As far as birthdays go, this one wasn't really anything too special. Well, maybe you're being a little too cynical. After all, last year you hadn't really gotten to spend your birthday with any friends- you'd been preoccupied with getting home to watch the newest season of your favorite anime.

This year, however, Sayori had managed to get you into the Literature Club, and it had, not to be dramatic, changed your life. For better or worse, that was yet to be seen.

"Y/N, is everything okay?" Sayori asks expectantly, bright blue eyes examining you with bewilderment.

You focus back on the present, giving your friend a reassuring smile. "Yeah, sorry! Everything's great." And you aren't lying; today for the club meeting, Natsuki had brought cupcakes for everyone to share, Sayori had actually not realized what day it was and so gave you a 'birthday hug,' Yuri had given you a copy of one of her favorite horror novels as a gift, even signed by the author, and yet...

You can't help but give a very small sigh. "I just kind of miss Monika, I guess."

Sayori, Natsuki, and Yuri all exchange glances in their respective chairs at one of the club tables. They then all focus on you with varying expressions: Sayori with mischief, Natsuki with exasperation, and Yuri with knowing amusement.

"What? Don't look at me like that!" You squeak defensively, feeling your face begin to heat up at what they were implying. "I only meant that it's- it's weird being at a meeting without our club president! T-That's all." Not that this could be called a meeting per se- more like a celebration between friends.

Sayori giggles at your reaction, and you hear Yuri whisper to Natsuki, "The lady doth protest too much," which elicits a snort of laughter from the pink-haired tsundere.

You groan, standing up abruptly from your seat and smoothing down your school uniform a bit, self-conscious all of a sudden. As your embarrassment dies down though, you feel a wave of affection for your fellow club members. As much as they tend to tease you about your little crush on Monika, they had made your birthday really special this year, and you were grateful. "Anyway, thank you guys again for everything! I had a lot of fun," you say earnestly, deciding it was probably time to wrap up and head home.

Sayori bounces up to join you, and you bid your farewells to Natsuki and Yuri, gathering up your things and heading out of the classroom.

Sayori glances back to make sure that Natsuki and Yuri are in fact walking away, and then she reaches out to stop you. "Uhm, Y/N...?"

You pause to look at her expectantly, unsure of why she's much less energetic now than she was a few minutes ago. "Yes?"

"I-I was actually supposed to tell you something," your best friend begins, uncharacteristically quiet. You wonder briefly why she hadn't mentioned this before... maybe she had been debating on whether or not she actually wanted to tell you whatever it is, considering how the words are practically being dragged from her at this point. "Ah, well, Monika asked me to, that is. The reason she couldn't come to the Literature Club today was because she was stuck at a meeting with the student council, but..." Sayori exhales in what could be a sigh. "She did still wanna see you for your birthday, so she hoped you could stop by there and wait for her."

You stand there in the mostly empty hall of the school, puzzled at why this news would bring such a reaction from your friend- especially when it makes you feel so fluttery inside. "Oh!" You try not to let it show, but you're fairly certain you're lighting up like a Christmas tree. "I see. Thank you for telling me, Sayori!"

As you turn to leave, you feel Sayori reach out to touch your shoulder, but she retracts her hand quickly. When you look back at her, she's her old self, giving you a big smile. "Yeah, I guess you're gonna go see her, huh? Well, I'll catch you later, Y/N!"

Before you can respond, Sayori dashes off, forgetting to wish you a happy birthday.

Well, that was weird. Then again, Sayori's been pretty off lately whenever you and Monika are involved.

The thought of the brunette is enough to make you forget all about whatever might be troubling your best friend, and you make your way through the school to the student council room with a giddy spring in your step. They must not be out yet since the halls are pretty deserted still.

You risk taking a peek through the little glass window on the door, and your hunch is confirmed. Students belonging to the council are all sitting in a circle of chairs, discussing... well, school-related business stuff. You aren't really sure what they do, exactly.

You catch sight of Monika at the head of them, naturally because she is the president, but you aren't expecting to see her with such an expression.

Usually, Monika seems to you warm, open, patient, and friendly... but here, she looks... not even bored, but more like she's utterly apathetic towards all the conversations going on around her. You've never seen her so uncaring, to the point where she seems almost irritated by the presence of everyone in the room with her.

Maybe she's having a bad day? The thought makes you a bit sad, and you find yourself wondering if she would even want to see you. Do the others in the council even realize she's so unlike herself?

As if to answer your silent question, one of the other students turns to Monika to say something, and when they do, the familiar expression you're used to your club president wearing slips back with ease onto her face. She listens attentively to whatever it is she's being told, and then she smiles and nods, commenting something you can't hear in return.

You watch the exchange, too fascinated to stop watching even if you do worry someone might notice you peeking inside for such a long minute. As soon as the student turns away from her, Monika is once again the picture of discontentment; you even notice her tapping her nails listlessly against the surface of the table they're all seated at.

The sound of the doorknob rattling causes you to leap backwards in shock, stumbling slightly over your own two feet. The meeting must be over, because someone is stepping out, and then another, and then you're hurriedly dodging out of the path of the entire student body as they file out, talking and laughing with one another as they head down the hall, eventually leaving you alone.

"Y/N?"

Looking away from their retreating figures, you face Monika and find her as she always is with you- curious emerald eyes and a friendly air about her. "Ah- hello," you greet her, trying not to sound as awkward as you feel about your... let's be honest, spying.

"I wasn't really sure that you'd show!" She exclaims, startling you with a sudden hug.

You've actually never gotten a hug from Monika, although you have a ton of hugs to compare hers to- Sayori throws herself at you pretty much daily, and hers tend to be suffocating, always too tight and lasting a bit too long.

From Monika, though? Her hug, despite making your head spin and your heart skip a beat, makes you feel so safe, secure... she's so warm and you can't help but be enamored with whatever perfume she uses.

Unfortunately, you're too stunned to return the embrace in time before Monika pulls back from you, and you could swear she has a faint blush on her cheeks. She doesn't apologize for her impromptu action, though, and you're glad for that.

"Why wouldn't I?" You ask, dumbstruck.

She studies you for a few seconds, and you get the idea that she's trying to detect if you're being serious or not. Eventually she says, "Oh, nevermind that! I am glad to see you, though. I have something I wanted to give you."

'Please refrain from saying something really stupid and cheesy like, 'the best gift you could give me is just getting to see you on my birthday,' you think to yourself. "A gift? You really didn't have to- or, I mean, you shouldn't have-! Not that I don't appreciate it, though...!" You don't typically struggle so much with your words, but you're still a little off your game after the lovely hug. It's like your mind is foggy, your tongue is twisted, and you simply can't think straight. Which isn't really new when you're around Monika, but today it's impacting you even more than normal. Maybe because you two are all alone for once, not surrounded by Sayori, Yuri, or Natsuki, or even any other students for that matter.

Monika gives a soft laugh. "I wanted to. Technically it's two somethings rather than one," she admits.

You find your mind racing as it tries to go over the potential possibilities. A book like Yuri? That would be very fitting, since you'd befriended Monika through the Literature Club.

You watch as she takes a gift box out of her bookbag, offering it to you with a sweet, "Happy birthday, Y/N."

God, you're definitely blushing. Like, fierce blushing. Either that or the school suddenly decided to turn fifty heaters on all at once. 'Geez, pull yourself together!! Act normal!' You internally berate yourself. If there had been any doubt before, it was all erased in this one instant- you were head over heels for your club president.

"Awh, thank you! It's nice of you." You accept the gift, examining it momentarily. As expected of the class star Monika, the box itself is wrapped perfectly. It's even your favorite color, with a matching ribbon tying it shut. Whether or not you're a sentimental person, you recognize that this is the sort of memento that could easily be kept for a long, long time. You glance back to your friend. "May I open it now?"

Monika nods. "Please do!"

You feel her gaze on you as you carefully untie the ribbon and open up the gift box to see what's inside.

She was right, it is more than one thing. They sort of go together though, you realize as you lift one of the presents up to admire it.

In your hand is a necklace. The chain is a light silver, and the pendant contains a pretty stone in the shape of a heart. The stone shimmers slightly as it reflects the light of the school hall.

"It's so pretty...!" You breathe.

"I'm glad, I thought it was pretty too," Monika says. She sounds calm, but when you glance at her you think she's ecstatic, but the expression is gone as soon as you blink, leaving you to wonder if it had been your imagination playing tricks on you. "It's your birthstone, did you notice?"

You hadn't noticed until she'd pointed it out, but it was indeed your birthstone. Monika is just... so very thoughtful. It's really no wonder she's so popular. "Thank you so much!!" You chirp, still somewhat surprised that she would go so far just for a birthday gift for you. You hadn't known her personally for very long, after all.

You set the necklace back down inside the box to bring out the other gift, another accessory- it's the same color as your birthstone necklace, but it actually reminds you of something else.

Yes, it's a big bow similar to Monika's own. If you were to wear it, it could even look like she and you were matching. You could just be reading too much into things, though...

"I.. love them. So much." You have an overwhelming urge to put your thoughts onto paper in order to give Monika the proper thanks that she deserves for being possibly the most generous person in existence, and because you feel like you're failing miserably at voicing just how touched you really are by these gifts. "I almost want to get you something in return...!"

Monika shakes her head in amusement. "It's your birthday, not mine." A contemplative finger rests on her chin as she adds, "Although... there is something you could do for me. If you wouldn't mind, of course."

Perplexed, you respond without giving yourself a chance to think about it. "Anything!"

You're rewarded with an affectionate smile from Monika, but it seems as though she was expecting that to be your answer.

She extends a hand for the gift box that you've already set both the bow and necklace back in, inquiring, "May I?"

Wordlessly, your intrigue piqued, you hand it back to her. She takes the bow out first, stepping closer to you.

It's not foolish of you to have been anticipating a kiss- even now you could very easily initiate one if you so chose, because of how terrifyingly close Monika is to you as she gently pulls your hair back for you, tying it back with the Y/FC bow and even brushing a stray lock of hair from your face after she does so.

While you're struggling to recover from your short-circuiting, Monika takes the necklace and places it around your neck. The brush of her fingers sends sparks of static against your skin, and you feel as if time is standing completely still, and it's just you and her in this world.

The faint click of the necklace as it clasps shut is what brings you back to reality, and all too soon Monika is stepping away from you again, still close but at a much more reasonable distance away.

She appraises your appearance and then smiles softly. "As I thought."

Is she being mysterious on purpose or does being around her just happen to kill your brain cells? "E-Eh?"

"You look lovely, Y/N."

The compliment makes you want to bury your face in your hands in the futile hopes of hiding your blush, but by now it's probably too late for that.

You stutter out your thanks, desperately trying to mend your scattered thoughts, and she once again wishes you a happy birthday, reminding you as well to bring your poetry assignment to the club meeting tomorrow.

As she's leaving, you realize you never got the chance to ask about the strange behavior she'd exhibited during the meeting with the other students.

[emotionallyits2009]

deancas fic rec list!

hello everyone! happy christmas to those who celebrate it, my gift to you is my fic rec list that i said i would make like a month ago. the only thing it is organized by is canonverse vs alternate universe. tried to cover a variety of subjects but there are in particular many fics of the genre “postcanon where cas is human and he and dean live together and slowly finally get their shit together” because i know what i’m about, son. HOPE U ENJOY. and if you wanna talk about any of them or rec me other fics please do. :) 

Canonverse:

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo, 30k, explicit “Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.” There are many fics set in a post-canon universe where Cas is human and he and Dean live together and slowly fall into a relationship. Imo this one is the best of the best of that genre. This was one of the first fics I read back in July when I was getting Back Into Supernatural where I was like oh fuck I’m like in this. Dean builds Cas planters and bookshelves and a chicken coop and they fight and work through it.

Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits, 10k, explicit For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. Really Gets the dynamic of Cas doesn’t think Dean wants him to stay/Dean thinks Cas will leave the first chance he gets. Also a nice example of Cas thinking he’s not wanted if he’s not useful/powerful and being told otherwise. Another all-time fave!

lonely hearts by outphastthemoat, 4.5k, gen He thinks he might give up having his own anything just to be able to step foot inside the room next door and sit on the edge of Dean’s bed instead. This one is for the CAS GIRLS who know what LONELINESS feels like.

Helionneiros by aeli_kindara, 24.2k, mature In which Dean visits his mother, and Claire takes Cas on a hunt. I’m always on the lookout for more fic with Claire and Jack. Jack doesn’t show up until the end here but the relationship between Cas and Claire is really nice.

Crawl by aeriallon, 11k, explicit It’s been almost four years since Castiel left Kansas; he'd eventually settled in an island town where he has a job, a house, and a life without the Winchesters. Every winter, Dean drives down to the coast to see him. Another fic where Cas is human but in this one he took some time for himself and got some distance from the Winchesters! He gets to be competent and weird as a human and we love that for him. I must warn you all that this fic contains one use of the phrase “making love” which would normally put me right off but it’s still worth reading. The first of a three-part series.

home where you hold me by microcomets, 1.6k, gen Cas and Dean, in the moments between their battles, ache for quiet spaces. Technically this is a coda to 10x20 but you don’t need the episode for context. Short and very sweet.

Build a Home by domesticadventures, 20.1k, teen After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them. He doesn’t. This one is so cute it’s like what if once they were done saving the world Sam and Dean actually invited other hunters to move into the bunker with them. Obviously Dean wants that to include Cas but doesn’t know how to use his words.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo, 22.4k, explicit This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore. Angst fic! They go on a road trip and Dean is severely fucked up post-Mark of Cain.

Unknown Quantities by xylodemon, 8.6k, explicit No one ever tells Dean anything. Another nice getting-together fic.

Creature of Habit by trinityofone, 5.2k, teen The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well. This one is ancient by destiel standards (written during season 5) but it manages to nail the married couple vibes they give off in later seasons. Cas is a bitch and Dean likes him so much. <3

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by Tuesday, 11.2k, mature Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this. Another old one that is a lot of fun! They get Accidental Angel Married and if you don’t enjoy dumb fanfiction tropes like that I don’t know what to say to you.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi, 4k, teen In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything. The OTHER accidental angel marriage fic written in 2010. 

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord, 24.8k, explicit A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there. At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history. Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe. Time travel is FUN. There’s an excellent part where (minor spoilers) future!Dean is like, “Guess what, asshole? You like me so much you marry me!!!!!!!!!!!” to 2008!Castiel that made me laugh out loud the first time I read it. Also just a good reminder of how most problems in life are temporary and if you could go back in time to talk to your younger self you’d be like, “Hey man. Chill out. You get through it.”

The Path of Fireflies by museaway, 63.7k, mature After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years. There’s a lot of amnesia fic and djinn fic out there were Dean wakes up ~suddenly together with Cas~ but I like this one in particular because he’s initially very confused and kind of a dick about it until he acknowledges that being with Cas makes him happy.

take the long way home by dothraki_shieldmaiden, 95k, explicit Three months ago, when Dean decided to retire, he thought his life was going to end up differently. He'd thought that he might get to have it all, Sam, Cas, Jack, and nice little place to live. Instead he gets Sam and Jack off on their Summer of Love Tour, radio silence from Cas, and a never-ending road trip consisting of himself. Still reeling from the loss of his grace, Castiel travels the country in search of hunts. Driven by a need to prove his usefulness, he pushes himself beyond all limits of endurance. Together, with the help of a few friends, a crumbling Victorian house, and a stray cat, Dean and Castiel patch themselves back together and create a home together. Do you wanna read almost one hundred thousand words of Dean and Cas having extremely intense feelings but refusing to voice them aloud? Haha of course you do that’s why you’re here. There’s also a lot about Cas adjusting to being human and being depressed about it which might resonate if you’ve ever felt weird about having a body. To be honest the author could stand to use a few more commas but there were also half a dozen moments that made me put my phone down and drag my hand slowly over my face and whisper “oh my god” to myself which is like, the ultimate measure of a good fanfiction so it gets to be on the list.

like moses and batman and james dean by saltyfeathers, 31.6k, explicit dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas. Have you seen the fanon (apparently pioneered by Mr. Jackles “Original Deankin” Ackles himself) that Dean used to prostitute himself to feed himself and Sam when they were younger? Are you interested in exploring that concept in fanfiction? Well, this is the only fic you need. Mind the tags on this one! It’s not what I’d call happy but it’s good.

Some Assembly Required by narrow_staircases, 47k, mature It’s September of 2005, and Dean Winchester, in an attempt to outrun old mistakes and painful memories, finds himself in southern Kentucky on a wild goose chase. He’s completely certain this weird religious movement he’s “investigating” is a hoax, despite the miraculous healings people report, and he’ll be back on the road in a day or two. Things are looking up when he meets Cas, an awkward (and gorgeous) graduate student who’s actually doing honest-to-god research into the local tent revival meetings. When that research takes a weird and personal turn, Dean’s left to face two very serious realities: one, this may be a real case after all, and two, he’s fallen way harder for Cas than he should ever have let himself. Stanford-era AU of Dean trying to avoid his father and getting in over his head on a case.

Alternate universe:

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets, 57k, mature Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The  professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen. Mundane AUs in this fandom have to be really, really good to catch my attention and this one is! It’s exactly what it says in the summary and the characterization is spot-on. 

Out to Drift by deathbanjo, 20.9k, mature Dean drives a black car with a loud engine. He lies too easily. He keeps a gun in the back of his jeans, and Castiel isn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Dean has killed someone before. Two people in fucked-up unstable situations meeting and forming a connection. Honestly guys I really just love deathbanjo.

[thegumballghost]

Burning House of Memories-Captain Becker/Reader-Part 1

Description:-  Working for the Anomaly Research Centre had never been easy. You've watched again and again as your friends have died or gone missing. For once the team hopes that they can breathe and enjoy the holiday season. Little did you know that it would be filled with mystery, anguish and love. All in your own home. Warning/Tags:- Death/Fighting/Blood (Later Parts)   Word count:-  2,260 Full Fic On AO3 

Part 2 

There had never been a dull moment in your line of work, it had become one of the many reasons you’d decided to stick with it. Even with all the occursions, fires, explosions and unfortunate deaths that came with the job, you couldn’t see yourself doing anything else.

However, being curled up at the back of a storage closet in your flat, tears wetting your eyes as you prayed whatever creature had made its way into the living room didn’t find you, you really started to question your decisions in life.

The day had been as you’d expected. Normal, quiet. With Christmas just around the corner, most ARC staff took their leave for the holidays. Leaving only its core members on duty and everyone else on stand-by for any anomalies they prayed wouldn’t appear. You were one of these unlucky people, left behind to finish up any paperwork or odd job.

The only reason you’d been granted a job here in the first place was due to your late grandfather who’d known the former leader, Nick Cutter from his university days. They’d worked on numerous projects together until your grandfather's retirement.

You yourself graduated from university with a master’s in archaeology and a bachelor's in mythology. With love for all things historical, paranormal and mythical. If it was weird and a mystery you were all up in it. Yet like most plans in this world, you ended up getting stuck with an office job in London, living with your grandfather until you could afford your own place.

That was until his ‘sudden’ passing. Cutter attended his funeral and after talking to you and seeing the same passion in you as him, offered you to join the ARC and continue his legacy. Your knowledge would prove to be a vital part of their research into this mysterious phenomenon known as anomalies.

Never did you expect so much death and devastation to come with the job. In such a short amount of time of being there, you had to watch so many of your co-workers die. Stephen Heart, Sarah Page someone who you’d considered your best friend and even Nick Cutter himself. Then there was Abby, Connor and Danny, all lost to the past.

Initially, you’d been made redundant when the ARC forcibly closed due to these events but as anomalies kept appearing you refused to sit idly by as countless people died. You begged James Lester for your job back and were hired alongside Jess Parker as a Field Coordinator.

The following months ended with you being trained to be out on the field until  Abby and Connor returned and you were essentially demoted back to your old role. Until recently when anomalies had been on the increase so you were regularly called out to help. To put it simply, you become the Jack of all trades.

For most of the day, you had sat in the archives. It was secluded, a part of the ARC that’s only frequent guests were anyone unlucky enough to get the job of writing reports yet it was still a vital part of the facility. That didn’t make it any less ominous. You’d tried your best to make the place more inviting by borrowing a blanket from storage and also a portable radio. Its signal was weak but with some adjusting and precise placing it picked up a local radio station which had been playing festive music all day so you were quite content.

You let out a large sigh of relief as you signed the last of the paperwork that had piled on top of your desk. Despite the blanket, your hands were freezing and numb from the bitter chill of the air conditioning Lester insisted was to be kept on even though it was cold outside. You pick up your mobile phone from the table and check the time, already past 5. Pm. ‘No wonder my hand hurts, I feel like I’m back at Uni again’ you think to yourself as you gather up the scattered papers, sorting them into piles of various categories. You were a hard worker but not exactly organised one-a trait you got from your grandfather.

Just as you started to file some of the documents away in a cabinet behind you, there was a knock on the open door of the room. It makes you jump but you play it off with a smile as you turn around to welcome your guest. (It had been about 5 hours since you’d spoken to anybody) “Yes? Can I help-Oh, Becker?” You’re again caught off guard but for an entirely different reason. He gives a nod as he lifts a disposable coffee cup in your direction, “Coffee run, as requested by Lester” You blink a couple of times in disbelief before turning to face the man with a teasing smirk, “Congratulations, I didn’t know you got promoted to the coffee boy!” “Thank you, I’ve been working towards it my whole life” Becker's tone was blunt but you could see him holding back the urge to smile. You set down the papers on top of the cabinet before walking over to the door, thanking him as you take the cup from his hand. Usually, you didn’t like to consume caffeine after a certain time of day but you always made an exception out of manners. Besides, it's likely the only Christmas present any of them were getting from their boss.

The warmth starts to envelop your hands and already you feel a little bit more human again. As you take a sip however you’re not met with the earthy tones of the coffee beans but instead with the sweet taste of chocolate, cream and was that a hint of peppermint? You glance up at Becker who needed no words to give an answer to your obvious question, “It’s peppermint hot chocolate” He mutters, looking nowhere in particular. “...someone told me it's a favourite of yours” “Jess” You quietly sigh at her typical antics and shake your head, “This is exactly what I needed Becker, Thank you” you hoped the heat from your cheeks was being seen as the warmth from the beverage and not from this unusually cute gesture. He gives another nod before taking a sip of his own drink. The circle of friends you’d developed in the ARC was somewhat small. After the death of Sarah, 90% of staff were made redundant and didn’t return. Plus you were apprehensive to get close to anyone, scared of losing them again.

Since you started your job, Abby and Connor have always been happy to talk to you. Connor's love for video games had continuously been a topic of conversation you enjoyed and you’d frequently trade games. Abby appreciated having someone else around who was as fascinated by the creatures as she was and didn’t want to instantly kill them. Rex was always put into your care if she was gone on a mission for a couple of days-you loved that little green lizard. You’d only briefly met Danny during his time at the ARC and cursed him with the number of write-ups you’d had to do each time he had to be detained for his behaviour. Despite this, a sick part of you loved this unhinged bastard. There was something about him you liked, he was this wildcard that kept you on your toes, you missed him quite a lot but never told anyone. Jess was probably the one you were closest to. Being someone you worked with every day you enjoyed her bubbly and sweet personality plus she’s a surprisingly good drinking buddy to have on weekends! Her company during those months without the original team there were pivotal, you wouldn’t have managed without her.

Matt didn’t so much as look at you most of the time whilst Emily had started to warm up to conversation. (One day you hoped you could talk to her about the past, it was the history nut in you). And Lester was well….Lester. Despite that, you appreciated him letting you continue your role here.

Then there was the man who was standing in front of you.

Captain Hilary James Becker.

“You just about finished in here?” Becker asked, motioning his cup towards your organised mess with a raised brow. “Thankfully” You reply, placing down your cup on the table and returning to the cabinet, “Just a few things to put away and OH actually while you’re here-” You turn back around and motion to a pile of papers on the desk, “If you could take a look at of those and sign them for me, please? I was going to come to find you once I’d finished here but since you’re here now-unless you have somewhere else to be of course”

Becker didn’t even hesitate to step inside as you made the request, almost like he was relieved to be given such an ordinary task,  “Please if I go back up there Lester will have me scrubbing toilets”

You laugh as you watch him happily settle down on your chair and grab the suggested papers before you turned back to your own work, “Aah, so you are buying time fetching my drink down here? Someone else could’ve easily done it. You’d think the Captain of security would be extremely busy counting his guns and checking passes”

There was a bit of a pause that made your smile grow wider, you’d caught him out. “Shut up (L/N)...”  He muttered

Never when you started this job did you expect to gain the fattest crush on the soldier boy. This man was simply hired to keep you all out of harm's way. The yes sir, no sir, I’ll shoot first and ask questions later, sir. Yet despite this strict and by-the-book approach, his sarcastic and dry humour (and good looks) had rubbed off on you a lot. But most of all it had been his tendency to care. It may have been his job but even after losing your own, he reached out to you, making sure you were okay after the death of Sarah and everything else.

Ever since you were re-hired, he’d helped train you to work alongside him in the field. Knowing full well you didn’t want to watch another friend die. Neither of you had confessed any feelings towards one other, in fact, you weren’t even sure if it was one-sided or not. Part of you didn’t want to because as soon as you did, it was going to make it hurt so much more if anything ever happened to either of you. Jenny had been a prime example of that with Cutter. “So any plans for Christmas then?” After a few minutes of ‘shutting up,’ you decided to change the subject. Moving back to the table to collect the next set of documents to file. “Yes, if all goes to plan” He started, not looking up, “I’ll have the delightful company of my family on their estate for a few days” “That sounds lovely” You smile. His personal life was never something you liked to pry him on, it seemed to be a touchy subject although he always answered your question regardless, be it vague. “Depends if you enjoy sitting around a table of 30 or so people” Becker huffs, “I’d much rather fight dinosaurs” He quickly changes the subject with a simple, “You?” “My family are away to my sisters in New Zealand for the holidays and since Jess is away for a week to spend time with her family I said I’d take up coms duty. So assuming no anomalies appear I’ll be spending it at home. If they do then maybe I’ll share a roast dinner with our pet dinos down in the holding bay” a small chuckle escapes you at the thought.

“Ah yes, Jess told me to inform you that all the portable equipment is sitting ready for you to take home. I’ve also issued you a tranquillizer in case you’re needed on the field”  Becker puts the pen down and neatens the papers before looking back up at you, “If you need help with anything don’t hesitate to call, alright?” His words were obviously work-related yet still, they made your chest swell. It embarrassed you that such nonchalant words would make you feel such a way. But then they weren’t said by him to everyone, not in such a personal manner. Or were you looking too much into it? You mentally sigh and reach over to grab your drink. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks Captain” You smile and take a sip to hide your obviously flushed cheeks. “Okay, everything looks to be in order so I should get-” Becker's voice was cut off by the noise everyone had been dreading. You exchange glances, annoyed and tired glances. Until as quickly as it started, the alarm stopped and the looks became one of confusion. “I didn’t imagine that, right?” You walk over to the radio, turning it off. The room was filled with silence, no alarm, no shouting. Becker goes towards the door, eyebrow raised as he listens, “No it-” Again the alarm goes off but this time it's only mere seconds before it stops again. He looks back at you, “I’m going to check it out” You nod and smile, “I’ll quickly finish up here and join you”

With a final glance from Becker, you began you packed everything up and made your way to the HUB, holding your blanket and radio close to your chest.

[artaxerxesthegreat]

Playing with Fire: Part 10

A/N: Everyone in this story is 18+, if minors are mentioned they aren’t getting in any weird, sick, twisted situations with adults. I also use female pronouns for the reader and the reader may be a bit OC. I would also prefer that minors DO NOT interact with this at all. Thank you.

Warnings: Dream based, Actors mixed with characters, College AU!, Mixed universes, Raffey Cassidy stands in as Sprite, Swearing, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, mild violence (?), implied sexual content, mentions of bullying, college strife, MCU/X-Men/Spider-Man/Actors mashed in one universe, self- doubt, insecurities, depression, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, family issues, mentions of disabilities, (Please let me know if I’ve missed something too.)

Red: Makarri signing

Purple: Maya signing

Bold Italicized: Reader signing

Word count: almost 4K

The quiet is so deafening that I almost missed her 4 small words. She said them with so much respect and reverence that I was sure she was talking to someone else.

“Because you love him.”

.

.

.

So much ugly crying.

So much.

————————-

—10 years later—

Sitting on the airplane I gaze out of the window watching the clouds below me, it’s nerve wracking and peaceful all at the same time, but it helps my calm mind down. After what happened at my aunt’s house all those years ago I need some calmness; there are times when I still break down and cry, but it’s become easier as time goes on. I never did see any of them again, last I heard Ikaris moved to the Mid- West and Sprite moved to London with Sersi and her new boyfriend Dane; it was a little weird hearing that but it’s not my problem, so I could care less.

As for…him, I was told that he was traveling around a bit; someone said he moved to the Amazon or something, and I’m happy for him. I know my sanity would crumble away completely if I had to see him or hear his voice again. I was a mess for the next 2 years, my friends never let me out of their sight- even Jane and Darcy looked after me. I apologized to so many people for how depressed I was and they all said the same thing,

“Shut up, Y/N, you have no reason to apologize for being sad, depressed or anything else, okay? You are allowed to feel, just let us keep helping you.”

I know I didn’t deserve their time, energy, or love, but I’m grateful every single day for it.

Now, 10 years later, a few of us are meeting up in New York for Christmas. I'm super excited to see everyone- well, almost everyone. Unfortunately we’ve lost some really good friends over the years, which is one of the reasons we’re meeting up now. Life is too short, and you never really think about it until you lose someone you hold dear. This had always been a plan we’ve been playing with for years, but never found the time; when we all graduated some moved away because of jobs, and others got married and had families; I, on the other hand, stayed at the college working as the new head of the English Department.

After Professor Xavier retired, he jokingly said I should apply for the position, so I did. It’s been really fun and very interesting. Many students can’t believe that I’m in charge of everything that happens in the department; it’s so funny seeing their faces when they walk in my office. If I had a nickel for every time someone came into my office asking for my boss, I’d be a rich woman. I’d look at them and say,

“My boss? You mean the president of the college?”

Their faces are priceless, I’ve actually taken a few pictures and hung them up in my office- with their permission, of course.

I did try getting into the dating scene again, but I prefer to be by myself for the time being. Natasha even tried setting me up with this guy from Wakanda, but we were better as friends, when that didn’t work she tried getting me with Tony, but I knew he had a thing for Pepper so we stayed friends instead. Nat was annoyed and enlisted the help of everyone else to get me with someone. Normally I’d be mad, but I couldn’t help but laugh at their efforts, it was sweet, but I knew I wasn’t quite ready to take that step.

…

“Guys, seriously I’m okay. I don’t need to be in a relationship right now.” I sip on my Long Island Iced Tea smiling at their stressed out faces.

“But Y/N,” Clint says looking around our large table, with guilt in his eyes.

“We just don't want you to feel like you’re-” Jane starts.

“-A 3rd wheel.” Darcy interrupts.

“…Nooo, I was going to say ‘left out’.” Jane finishes glaring at Darcy.

“Same thing.” She and Natasha say at the same time.

“Guys, I’m alright. I love hearing about your families and whatnot. It’s not hurting me in any way, trust me.” I say honestly, “Now, Clint, you were talking about how your wife is a badass and your youngest is learning sign language.”

They all share a look but let it go, and Clint finishes his tale.

It was a bit hard seeing everyone with their other half, but I’m not trying to rush anything. I did meet someone a few weeks after that night. We went out for coffee a few times, tried dating, but we had different wants and needs- he wanted to get married and I needed him to come out of the closet.

When he did finally come out, he couldn’t be happier, I even had a little party for him and that’s where he met his now boyfriend Warren or Angel, as we call him. They really are the cutest!

Needless to say Nat wasn’t thrilled that I was still single and ‘threatened’ me saying she was going to run me over if I didn’t bring a date for Bucky and Sam’s wedding-

Oh. So, a lot of stuff happened the last few years. One being that Steve married Peggy after they reconnected, and Jubilee and Bucky went their separate ways when he came out to her. She was chill with it and they still hang out every now and again. Bucky and Sam started dating after Steve yelled at them to stop pretending they hated each other and just make out already.

-Anyway I did bring someone to their wedding, my very good friend Dr. Otto Octavius. Their faces were so worth it, and his face when I asked him was too.

“Hey Doc!” I lean on the doorframe of his empty classroom with a smile on my face as he stares at me for a few seconds, probably trying to figure out who I am.

“Oh, uh hello.”

I smile to myself knowing he doesn’t remember me, so I walk into his classroom and stand in front of his desk, “It’s the haircut isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry?… OH! Y/N, I hardly recognized you, I know I knew your voice, but yes the haircut threw me for a second.” He smiles widely sitting down in his chair, he offers me a seat, “Sit, sit. How’s everything going on at the English Department?”

“Pretty well, I have some new pictures to put up in my office.” He chuckles at this, “How’s everything here?”

“Fine, just fine.” I raise a brow at him, sighing deeply he confesses, “I don’t know what’s wrong with students nowadays. They think they know everything, it irks me to no end, Y/N. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Laughing I pat his shoulder sympathetically, “I know, I know. It’s gonna be okay, you’ll get through this. You remember when I took your class? You looked like you were going to have an aneurysm, with all my questions.”

“That was completely different, and you know it.” He deadpans glaring at me, “You were in my class for two weeks, and ONLY because they messed up your schedule.”

“And when they fixed it you never saw me again, doesn’t that warm your heart?” I bat my eyelashes at the older man who just stares at me unimpressed.

“Never saw you again? Please, you made it your mission to pop up in my classes and office whenever you had the chance.”

“Yes, but that was far, few and in between my dear doctor.”

“Yeah, not far enough.” He grumbles.

“Hey!” I swat his arm causing him to laugh loudly, “Well, at least I gave you a 2 ½ year break.”

“That you did…” He takes in my features wondering if he can ask, I give him a reassuring smile. He’s still very careful about that whole thing, “… How are you doing? Really?”

“I’m doing good.” I say after taking a deep breath, “It was hard- beyond hard, but if I didn’t have the friends or family I had I’d probably still be hiding away, or worse.”

“I’m glad you’re better, I was shocked to see you waiting by my office. I thought you got bored of me or transferred to another school.”

“I could never be bored of you Dr. Otto. You’re like, my other dad.”

“Thank you.” He rolls his eyes, failing to hide his smile, “My goal in life is to be a ‘Father to all’.”

“Well. You’re doing a great job!” I smile cheekily at him spinning around in my chair.

“…So have you heard from any of them?”

“Nope. And I’m fine with that, I just wish people would stop treating me like I’m glass though.”

“We’re just concerned for you is all.”

“I know, but there are things in life that we all have to deal with; some good, and some bad, but at some point we have to face our demons. My demons are spread out around the world, and I’ve recovered from my wounds- most of which were self-inflicted.” I take a moment to think about my next words, “When the time is right, I’ll face them again. I might not be meeting the same people, but next time I’ll be ready. And I won’t be put down so easily.”

“Good. I’d hate to tell Norman there’s someone else we’d have to hunt down.”

“Oh my god, I can’t with you two.” I laugh resting my head in my hands, “How is your husband by the way?”

“…what…?”

I give him a knowing look and watch as his face turns red with embarrassment, “Doc, you don’t flaunt it, but he sure does, plus you called him ‘Norman’ not ‘Mr. Osborn’. Plus plus- that’s plus squared- he asked me if his husband was ‘taking time to eat lunch instead of coffee like he does for breakfast and sometimes dinner’.” After a few seconds, he closes his eyes letting out a heavy groan rubbing his face, “You good?”

“I’m gonna kill him!” It comes out muffled due to his hands still on his face.

“Oops, sorry.” We turn our attention to the man standing in the doorway with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Hi Mr. Osborn- or should I say Norman~.” I send Dr. Otto an impish grin.

“AaaaaaaauuuuugGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!”

“Norman is fine Y/N, how’s my favorite person- you know, other than completely embarrassed.” He sits on Otto’s desk; smile never leaving his face as he gazes at the red faced Octavius.

“I’ve been better.” He grumbles looking at a spot on his desk.

Norman just laughs sending me a wink and I remember why I even came down here in the first place.

“Oh, Norman I’m so glad you’re here because I have a question to ask you guys.”

“NO.” Otto says quickly.

“I didn’t even- Norman.” I whined slumping in my chair.

“You didn’t even give her a chance dear.” He tuts at Otto brushing some of Otto’s hair out of his face. Otto gives us both a deep sigh, before gesturing to me to continue.

“Thank you, now I was going to ask if I could borrow your husband for a weekend.”

“Whose husband?!” Otto snaps his head in my direction.

“His.” I smirk, pointing at Norman, “It’s nothing crazy, just for a wedding.”

“What makes you think I’d just let him go with you to some random person's wedding?”

“Two reasons,” I hold up two fingers, still smirking, “One, it’s a gay wedding, and two-”

“Take him!” Norman says holding up his hands, “Take him with my blessing!”

“She didn’t even say the second reason!” Otto says bewildered.

“It doesn’t matter.” Norman chuckles, “Besides, knowing Y/N, she was probably just going to say ‘it’s a gay wedding’ again but with more emphasis.”

“I was.”

“See.” We both share a smile as Otto just throws his head back staring at the ceiling.

“I hate the both of you.”

“…Riiiiii~gggghhhhhht.” We cackle high-fiving each other.

“When is the wedding?”

“I email you the details, I know how old school you are.” I stand up putting my chair back in its place.

“Not that old school.” Norman adds with a laugh as Otto glares at him. His glare lasts for about half a second as he now tries to hide his smile as Norman kisses his forehead.

“You guys are so cute.” I smile at them sweetly as they both blush, “Thanks again for this, you both are a lifesaver. See you later!”

At the wedding Nat watches us not believing that I actually brought Dr. Octavius as a date but let it go, because at least I didn’t come alone.

Everyone else was just like “… Is that legal? Can she do that?… I thought he was gay?”

“Shut up guys, at least she didn’t come alone.”

….

I look at the picture of us on my phone and I smile sadly at it, “God I miss you, Nat. We all do.” Looking back out the window again I can see the pink of the sunset fill the clouds. Locking my phone I turn my attention to my laptop and try to knock some work out of the way.

About 2 hours later I finally land in New York and make my way to my hotel, I take some time to relax before I have to go back out into the cold. My phone ‘pings’ and looking at it, I see that everyone is pretty much in New York already and we’ll be meeting up at the giant Christmas tree.

“Time to go.”

I pull on my winter coat and begin my trek into the cold, walking through the streets I see so many people laughing and window shopping. Young and old. It brings a smile to my face and I continue walking, until I hear an almost too familiar voice. I stop walking and look around the busy streets making sure I heard wrong.

“There is no way, there’s no way.” I mutter to myself with wide eyes, I feel my heart racing as I spin around like a crazy person getting weird looks from some people- they’ve got to be tourists, the real New Yorkers ignore me. My phone ‘pings’ again and I see that Clint is asking where I’m at, “It’s all in your head, Y/N. You didn’t hear him. He isn’t here.”

Tucking my phone away I briskly walk the next 4 blocks, and let me tell you I wish I just took a cab. I’m freezing by the time I make it to the Christmas Tree and everyone is standing around waiting for me.

“Hey guys!” I say walking up to our little group- it’s not really little. Pepper and her daughter, Clint with his wife and kids, Kate, Yelena, Kurt, Warren, Bucky, Sam, Bruce, Wanda and her twins and Vision, and Kitty with her son and Colossus.

Turning around I’m greeted with smiles and hella warm hugs, which I gratefully accept.

“Y/N, how have you been? It’s been too long.” Pepper rubs her hand on my back as we hug.

“I know, I’m so glad we can all get together. I’ve been pretty well actually. Hey there pretty girl!” I give Morgan a tight hug and boop her nose.

“Hi~!” She giggles as I spin her around, Clint’s youngest and Wanda’s twins see this and start demanding to be spun around too.

“Aaauuggghhhhh, you see what you've done Y/N?” Clint groans, spinning his son around.

“I’m not sorry.” I giggle putting down Morgan moving to Wanda’s twins, “And how are you two fine young lads doing?”

“GOOD~!”

“Wow, are they always in sync?”

“Pretty much.” Wanda chuckles ruffling their hair, “Well, I don’t know about you guys but I’m gonna go get some hot chocolate.”

“That sounds good.” Kate says linking arms with Yelena as they walk to the Starbucks on the corner.

“You guys go get the hot chocolate while Clint and I go get the candles.” Laura says as the rest of us just stand around.

“Can we go watch the people skate mommy?” Kitty’s son asks from his perch on Colossus’ shoulders.

“Sure!” Looking at us we all agree and stand on the top steps watching the people below skate.

“I’m gonna walk around for a bit, okay guys?” I say pointing in the direction I’m going.

“Be careful, it may be Christmas but it’s still New York.” Bucky says with concern with his arm around his husband's shoulders.

“I’ll be fine, if anything I’ll scream really loudly and flail my arms around like a crazy person. No one will mess with me then.” I laugh at his eye roll and Kurt asks if he wants Warren and himself to join me, “Nah, I’ll good guys, really.”

Making my way down the steps I lean on the railing smiling at the people that skate past me, I do a double take when I see someone that looks vaguely familiar to me. I guess I was staring really hard because he skates over to me with an angry expression.

“Ah shit.” I mumble standing up straight.

“You got a problem, lady?” He snaps.

“Do you, asshole?” I snap back, “This is a bad idea. He looks like a thug.”

A girl in black skates between us putting her hands up signing to him, he signs back with anger and then points at me, turning to me she mean-mugs me and then just stares at me.

“Uhhhhh, hi.” I lean back, giving her an awkward half wave.

“Y/N?”

“…Yeah?”

“It’s me Maya.”

“Hi, Maya…” I send a quick glance to the guy behind her and then it clicks, “OH MY GOD MAYA! How are you? It’s been forever!”

“I know! It’s so nice to see you again. What brings you to New York?” She smiles warmly at me as we catch up. “I’m sorry about him, you just don’t know what crazy people are hanging around.”

“It’s fine, honestly I was ready to scream and flail around.”

She punches my arm playfully as we laugh. Everything was going fine until I heard that voice again, this time closer and clearer.

“Makarri, be careful!”

I look past Maya and her friend as a whirl of red speeds by, following behind the blur of red is a man dressed in a black overcoat and dark red beanie, but I know that side profile from anywhere. I’d spent too much time memorizing that face.

“What’s wrong? Y/N?” I feel Maya shake my arm, but I can’t respond, I’m stuck watching him skate by.

“Hey you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Maya’s friend says blocking my sight. Blinking quickly I look back at them.

“Wha, oh haha, you- huh? I’m good, I’m fine. Look, it was super nice seeing you again, Maya. We definitely need to catch up some more, but I’m gonna get back to my group before they think someone kidnapped me.” I joke, smiling as I give them a hug goodbye. I know from their faces they are thoroughly confused, but I can’t be bothered by that. Quickly I start walking to the steps when I feel someone grab my arm.

“Apparently not quickly enough.”

Snapping my head back I see Makarri staring at me with a wide smile, and I don’t feel uncomfortable at all! I glance behind her, but I don’t see my ‘Ghost of Christmas Past’ so I calm down a bit, turning my attention back to her.

“Hi.” She signs.

“Hey, how’s it going?” I sign visibly uncomfortable, she looks a bit sad and I give her a tight smile. She never did anything to me, and I want her to know that, it’s who she’s with that scares me. She looks behind her shoulder and turns back to me not seeing the cause of my fear.

“I’m doing well. Are you?”

“…Oh. OH, yeah, yyeeeaaahhhh. I’m ginger, peachy, cardinal and keen!”

“…Y/N, this is the second time I meet you but I’m not dumb.”

“Haaa ahhh yeah, right.” I nod as I look at my boots searching for my words, she lightly touches my arm making me look back at her.

“I hope you are doing well, and I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. I won’t keep you anymore.” I can see the sincerity in her eyes and nodding in thanks. I take a step back, and then decide to give her an impromptu hug.

She was caught off guard and I sign to her, “Now we’re even.”

She laughs and when I’m about to turn I hear his voice again.

“Makarri what are you doin-”

I’ve heard people say that they’ve felt time stand still, but I’ve never experienced it. It was like a dream, all the noise of people screaming and laughing seemed to fade away, and the rest of the world with it, until it was just us standing a few feet away from each other. It felt like an eternity and a few seconds all at the same time.

His face was exactly the same, still youthful and unbothered by anything, his eyes had a gleam of maturity to them now- but I suppose after 10 years that’s bound to happen. His voice was no longer disguised by an American accent, but the beautiful Irish I’d grown to miss and hope I’d never hear again. Even though his hair was covered by the beanie I can see that he no longer dyes it blonde- guess he grew out of that too.

I wanted to leave so badly, but my feet were glued to the ground, but I also wanted to run to him and hug and tell him I’m sorry; but his last words to me still ring in my ears.

“Don’t ever talk to me ever again. I want nothing to do with you, and if you ever show your face in front of me again you will want to make sure you aren’t alone.” I feel the color drawing from my face and the air leave my lungs as I remember the part that keeps me up at night. I still dread every waking moment I’m alone on campus; that very last part “‘Make sure you aren’t alone’…Alone. I- I’m alone!”

Putting all my strength and will into taking a step back, he takes one forward. My eyes widen at this and I feel my heart hammering in my chest again, trying to listen to my fight or flight response, I find that I can’t move again. Looking back at him, I see his lips are moving but I can’t hear him. I can’t hear anything except for the blood rushing to my ears and the thumping of my heart.

——————————

Tag list: @aquanova99 @tompetersebbuckyhazleo @treaclesquirrel

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

[rason-rodd]

The Boy Who Didn’t Like Christmas - Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: You decide to surprise Jason with a Christmas tree but things don’t go as planed. Did he really just call you a friend? 

Warning : Fluff, Humor, Slight Angst  

Author’s note: A new Bat-Christmas one shot, this time with Jason (the last one will be with Dick). I tried to make Reader as general neutral as possible. Hope you’ll like it

“You’re clearly not from the Hill … or the Narrows.” You were pretty certain the rebuke would have hurt ten times more if Dana Harlowe had said everything she was keeping well hidden in her badass heart. But there was no need to say more. It was clear she didn’t hold you close to her heart.       To her, you were the pain in the ass from Uptown Gotham, the one who certainly knew nothing about striving to get out of the dirt and who had certainly always get what she wanted by simply twitching her nose. In a nutshell, everything she was happy not to be. But you had one thing in common. Or at least, one person. Jason Todd.         Dana had known him for over a decade. You had known him for a couple of months. But you as well as she had learned to deeply care about him, except that one of you had let things go way beyond friendship quite a couple of times. That one being you.     “I was just suggesting bringing Jason a Christmas tree to decorate his apartment, Dana. That’s it.” You tried to defend yourself as you buried you hands in your pocket.           “And how many times should I tell you that Jason hates Christmas?” You sighed as you both could barely keep your annoyance to yourself anymore. “No one really hates Christmas.” “So what you’re going to show up to his place with a goddamn tree, all dolled up, flutter your eyelashes and hope he won’t be mad at you?”     You shrugged. “That’s an idea”

***

And Dana hadn’t been able to stop you. So, one Sunday afternoon you showed up to Jason’s place with a bag filled with brand new Christmas decorations and a heavy tree that had made you sweat streams to carry in the old staircases and, with a tired sigh, you rang at Jason’s door. He opened it without waiting or looking through the spyhole, apparently not thinking (or caring) about the possibility of a lunatic waiting on his doorstep with a deadly weapon. “You know I could have been a very angry elf with a gun. You should use that little peephole”     “ Y/N” He looked astonished to see you here, especially with all that Christmas stuff “I…” “By the way, you should also write your co-ownership trustee and ask for an elevator. Yours stairs are a living hell.” You declared to make sure he wouldn’t have time to realise or protest against what you were planning to do. “Give me a hand, would you?” You asked as you tried to drag the tree by the crown inside the apartment, sprinkling the ancient wooden floor with pine needles.     “Explain.” Jason demanded as he helped you carry the Christmas tree to the corner of his living room and erect it. “There! Perfect.” You clapped your hands, proud that the tree was still looking good despite the mistreatment you have given it and also because it was standing in Jason’s apartment, contradicting all of Dana’s sayings that “a Christmas tree will never cross Jason Todd’s doorstep”. “Suck it, Dana!”         “Alright. You’re weird today. What’s with the tree?” Jason’s face seemed a bit twisted, as he didn’t know if he should smile or be worried. “Next week, it’s Christmas. You can’t celebrate Christmas without a Christmas tree.”       He frowned, definitely looking for the right words in his beautiful yet tortured head of his to be sure he would not kill your excitement or hurt your feelings. “Y/N. I wasn’t planning on celebrating Christmas this year.” “I know. Dana told me about you being Scrooge Jr.” You joked, not caring at all, as you opened the plastic bag full of decorations to empty it on the couch. “That’s a bit overstating things.” Jason scratched his head. He had never heard anyone compare him to Dicken’s famous character. “I mean. Not liking Christmas doesn’t make me a miserly bitter old man.”       “Were you planning on spending Christmas alone sitting on your couch with cold noodles, watching Netflix and calling Christmas humbug?” He waited before answering, trying to see how he could debunk you little argument. But there was no way. “Not Netflix. Cutthroat Kitchen.”           “Oh my god. You’re Scrooge.” You sighed, exasperated before showing a beautiful transparent Christmas ball with little snowflakes inside. “Look how cute!” Your enthusiasm made him smile discreetly but not discreetly enough to go unnoticed. “I guess there’s no way I’m gonna stop you, right?” You shook your head. “You can still try but no. I’m going to give you some Christmas spirit, choke you with it if I must and I won’t leave this place until you love it. And mark my word, I will use string lights if needed” You threatened as you showed him the lights. “You would really tie me up to the tree? You know BDSM is not my thing.”           “ No I would tie myself to the tree. Because as much as I know you can throw that tree away once I’m gone, I’m sure you won’t be able do so if I’m tied to it.”             “And why so?” He smirked, curious to know your reason. “Cause you like me too much.” Was he really an open book? He never thought so but there was something with you, something weird and unusual that could make him act in strange ways. Perhaps was he getting soft. “And also, because you wouldn’t get my very special gift if you kick me out.” Jason squinted and you played with your eyebrows as you bit your lower lip so that he would get the naughty message. That eventually made him laugh and he tried to remember when was the last time he thought sexy could be funny.         “Ah. The things I would do for you.” He kissed the top of your head softly, making your shiver and close your eyes and for a second you tried to resist the sudden urge to catch him by the neck and kiss him on the lips. Not that he would have minded, you thought. But there was a difference between occasional sex and displays of affection. “Let’s do this. Before you decide to make me sing Mariah Carey.”       “Oh …” You pretended to think about the idea with a finger over your lips. “Don’t push it.”

And so you ended up decorating the Christmas together, laughing and chatting about some random stuff until you dared ask. “Why don’t you like Christmas?” Jason froze for a moment and you saw him close his eyes to take a deep breath. “Well it’s difficult to like Christmas when you’ve got a family like mine.” He finally declared as he hung a Christmas ball on a branch.         “You mean Bruce …” You supposed though you were not sure of you should continue this conversation. “If only there was just Bruce.” You decided to be quiet when you noticed his sudden bitterness but he chose to keep talking. “I never had a proper Christmas as a kid. When mum wasn’t completely stoned on the bathroom floor, dad was in jail. And when we were finally together, well … Let’s say Christmas spirit wasn’t something the Todd family knew about.”             “I’m sorry.” You said, wondering if you should hug him or at least caress his arm as a sign of comfort. “Don’t be. Plus, it’s not like I cared that much about Christmas as a kid anyway.” You could tell it was a lie, a huge bad lie only made to mask some deep-rooted wound, a lie Jason had learned by heart as if it was a mere line and had probably served to anyone around him for as long as he could remember. It wasn’t hard to guess. You just had to see how hurt he looked deep down in his beautiful tortured eyes. “I mean, there are other days to offer gifts.”       “Sure.” You had a light smile and you focused again on the decoration of your tree. “But I appreciate what you’re doing, Y/N”       “By what I’m doing, you mean … making you celebrate the event you hate the most without complaining?” You tried to joke. “That.” He chuckled. “And being a good friend.” A friend? Was friend really the right word? Well, maybe … in a way … or not. After all, what friends occasionally end up fucking when the sexual tension becomes too hard to handle?     “I know you’re doing this because of your permanent worry about me. But you don’t need to worry. I’m fine.”           “I’m sure you are.” You sighed and Jason caught your hands in his. “Hey. I’m a tough guy. I’ve got thunder thighs and sharp abs. You said it yourself”. You chuckled briefly, remembering the time when you told him this. Pretty sure you were naked and drunk by the way.           “I know you’re tough Jason. Actually, you’re certainly the toughest person I know. But I’m not stupid. And I know there are things that you’re hiding from me.” He suddenly frowned and you felt his grip around your hands loosening, as if he was ready to run away from you. “And I’m not asking you to tell me what it is. I understand that you have your secrets. I do to. I just … I just want you to be honest with me, to tell me when you feel low, when you need me.” You added as you grabbed his arms to keep him close. “We’re … friends after all, aren’t we?” You hated that argument but you decided to use anyway, just to see his reaction.     “Yeah. Yeah, sure.” Jason whispered after a second of heavy silence. “We’re friends.” Not the reaction you wanted.   “Good.” You let go of him and went back to hanging Christmas balls but you both could feel the weird tension, the awkwardness and you couldn’t help but blame yourself for ruining that moment which had begun so well. You should have listened to Dana. “Maybe I should go.” You declared as you resigned yourself to get the hell out of here before making things worse between you two.     “No!” Jason almost shouted. “No. We … Let’s finish the tree first okay? Please” You sighed. “Plus you mentioned a gift, right?” Normally that comment would have made you smirk but not today, not now. “That’s not a gift you give friends, Jason”

***

“You played the friends card? Not cool.” Jason suddenly remembered the little mental note he had left for himself the last time he had talked to Dick about his love life. ‘Never again.’ But Roy was gone and so were Artemis and Bizarro or any other friends he could have confessed to. “But we are friends.” He tried to justify himself. “I think.”     Dick shook his head, slightly exasperated yet amused by his little brother. “You saying ‘I think’ makes me believe you don’t see Y/N as a friend.”             “Why does it have to be so complicated?” Jason sighed as he tried to remember when was the last time he had seen you as merely a friend.       “Because it’s love and nothing is ever simple when it comes to love. No need to be a relationship expert to know this.” Jason glanced at Dick who was smiling at him. “I hope you don’t consider yourself an expert considering the failure that is your love life and your on and off relationship with Babs.” Dick shrugged. Yes, apparently he was. Cocky boy wonder. “I’m expert enough to know you don’t call someone you have sex with a friend.” “Oh come on! Ever heard of friends with benefits?” Jason harrumphed, slightly annoyed by his predecessor’s judgemental attitude right now.   “Jason please. You guys are not friends with benefits and you know why? Cause your relationship is not platonic at all. You like Y/N and Y/N likes you. But you are too unconfident or too scared to admit it so you end up having sex when you don’t know how to handle your feelings anymore. Now can we take care of that bunch of lousy criminals before they escape with the money?”             As much as it hurt Jason to admit it, Dick was right. He liked you. He liked you a lot. Maybe he was in love with you even, he didn’t know. But what he really knew right now was that he had screwed up, bad, and that he wanted to fix things between you two.

***

You turned your key in the keyhole, exhausted by your long day at work and blaming the snow that had literally frozen your toes and fingers on your way back home. “Maybe I should ask for a ugly pair of Uggs for Christ…mas”           You couldn’t move, your limbs as frozen as your fingers and toes or maybe worse. Eyes widened you looked around you and at the thousands colourful lights illuminating your entire apartment and the Christmas decorations scattered all over the furniture. “What the hell happened here?”             “Do you like it?” You yelled and jumped and, out of pure reflex and fear, punched hard the person standing right behind you before you could realise it was actually Jason. “Oh my god, Jay.” He groaned and put a hand over his nose to calm the pain. “Damn. I think you broke it.”   “Let me see.” You tried to remove his hand from his face to see how badly injured he was. “No! Don’t touch it. Don’t touch it.” He cried out as a sign of protest but eventually let you take him inside right to your couch where you left him an instant to go fetch some ice in the freezer. “What are you doing here that late?” You asked as you came back to sit by his side. “I wanted to surprise you. I guess it worked.” He hissed as you finally put the small bag of ice against his nose.             “You did this?” You asked as you looked again around you. There were probably at least dozens of flickering string lights hanging from the ceiling above your head as well as fake snow all over the floor of the living room and miniature Christmas trees and other lovely decorations carefully placed on the furniture. “Yeah.”           “How? When?” You couldn’t believe he had done this.             “This afternoon while you were gone. I entered by the window. You know you should check if they’re close before leaving.” You smile when you understood the nod to what you had told him last you saw each other. “Why?”     “ Well. Because it’s dangerous of course. I mean a lunatic could enter and turn your place into a Christmas shop. Oops too late.”     “ No, I mean. Why did you do this?” You asked again, not really in the mood to laugh at his joke right now. “It’s Christmas, isn’t it? … And I like you” He said while looking at you right in the eye. “And not as a friend. Cause clearly we’re not friends and we’re not …” You dropped the bag of ice to catch Jason by the neck and kiss him passionately. How long have you waited for him to finally say it. “Ow. Ow. Easy.” Jason complained right against your lips when your nose pressed too hard against his. “Sorry.” You whispered with a smile. “Don’t smile at my pain. I’m really hurt.”   “Aren’t you a tough guy?” You teased, using his own arguments against him.         “Not when I’m with you.” He confessed and approached your face again, slowly and carefully, to kiss your soft lips with a delicacy that made you shiver. “There are so many things I want to tell you, Y/N.”       “ Then say them.” You whispered still close to his face, feeling his hot breath against your skin. “It would ruin Christmas’ spirit.”   “I thought you didn’t like Christmas.”       “I lied.”

[kingreywrites]

The Smolder Tragedy

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 3314

Summary: A very concussed and very out of it Eugene Fitzherbert comes to a devastating conclusion about his smolder. His kidnappers are not all that sympathetic about it.

Note: that title is so corny god asgfdgh anyway, this is a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic, but there’s quite a bit of hurt!! So be warned that there is talk of a concussion, some violence (because he’s kidnapped), and also a mention of spiked water (he’s mostly fine though but I’d rather be safe)

Read on ao3

Now that he was thinking about it, Eugene realised that the smolder never... truly worked on anyone. Well, when he was younger, adults tended to go easier on him if he made a somewhat cute face at them, and in the following years, doing it never hurt his chances with the people who were already attracted to him. But neither of these facts actually attested of the efficiency of the smolder in itself, and if Rapunzel was left particularly unimpressed, Eugene wasn't sure anyone had ever really swooned because of it.

Oh, the demon Rapunzel from the weird mirror dimension did swoon that one time. Was that a good sign, or a bad one?

"The hell are you talking about?" someone growled, entering the room loudly and making Eugene's headache worse, if that was even possible.

That guy was one of the reasons Eugene was thinking about his smolder's actual abilities - or lack thereof. Because see, if the smolder worked, which he was now doubting, he could simply use it on this guy, and that would make him swoon, and Eugene would use the distraction to get free from the chair he was tied on, and get out of here quickly. But Eugene didn't think the smolder would work. Not because Mr Beetle here (lovingly named after the bug which landed on his head during Eugene's kidnapping - he'll get to that part later) was immune to his charms, but because maybe... perhaps... the smolder had never been effective?

This was devastating news. Truth really was the heaviest burden a man could bear.

Beetle grabbed his hair and pulled his head back roughly, making Eugene see stars and forget, for a moment, the whole smolder dilemma. But then he was being yelled at things he could barely understand between the buzzing in his ears and the concussion he got earlier - without forgetting the stuff they made him drink that made his head all fuzzy and his thoughts completely muddled - and he couldn't help but wonder if he could smolder his way out of here. That'd be nice. It had been what, four days since they got their hands on him? Five? Eugene was bored now.

"If-," he coughed, feeling like the hoarse voice he could hear wasn't his own, "if I tried to seduce you, would you break my nose?"

Going by the way his head was slammed back again, Eugene took it as a yes. That was a shame, truly. He knew that his life was different today, that he had changed for the better and was now the Captain of Corona's Guard, so really, he didn't need the smolder - but he loved that silly little trick. It felt like discovering that Santa wasn't real all over again. Not that he ever believed in Santa, since the matrons didn't see fit to talk about that particular tradition when everyone knew that orphans wouldn't get Christmas gifts, but that's what Eugene thought it must feel like.

His head hurt a lot.

A big hand tipped his chin up, since he had been looking at his pants and the stains on them (would he be able to get the blood out?), and he realised that Beetle was trying to make him drink that weird stuff again. The one that made his head feel like it was floating above his shoulders, and made him feel warm in the most disgustingly sweaty way. Eugene hated it. So he kept his lips as tightly closed as he could, and trashed in the chair to make it more difficult on that goon.

This was becoming ridiculous. The fact that he even got kidnapped already hurt enough as it was - they got the best of him after a very exhausting day, and pointed a crossbow at his heart before hitting him so hard over the head he was pretty sure he stayed unconscious for a few hours straight... which Rapunzel would probably think was pretty concerning. For his part, he was more annoyed about the constant headache than anything. Mostly, he couldn't believe he got kidnapped.

He didn't even remember if anyone had seen him, and hoped no one had gotten hurt during the whole ordeal. In any case, he was pretty embarrassed and, to add insult to injury, they didn't even care about him. He was Captain of the Guard for god's sake, you'd think that would make him interesting enough, but no, they only wanted him to pressure the royal family.

Being used as leverage sucked. Thinking that they might hurt the people he loved by using him made him feel sick, even more than their weird drugged water did.

"If you keep being difficult you're gonna regret it," Beetle threatened, and Eugene would have told him that he was the one who would regret stuff soon, if he hadn't been also preoccupied with keeping his mouth shut. Which, ironically, was something people had asked of him a lot in his life, and that he had always refused to do - until someone tried to force him to keep it open. He never did like authority, after all. The matrons would always tell him that he was a troublemaker of the worst kind, and that someday, life would get back at him for the chaos he created. They were yet to be proved right about that one but-

Beetle punched him in the gut, making Eugene gasp and cough in pain, before his nose was pinched and he was forced to swallow the water, nearly choking on it.

"Rude," he noted weakly when it was over, his throat on fire as he heaved. Already, he could feel the fuzziness coming back with a vengeance, his vision blurring at the edges because of whatever mysterious compound they forced him to drink. He'd have to ask Varian about it. The kid would know, certainly, or would at least be excited to research it, and it was fun when Varian was excited. He still had that weird maniacal villain vibe mixed with his genuine and adorable love for sciency things, and that was an interesting combination to see in action.

The door to Eugene's cell was slammed shut and, in the dim light, he understood that he was alone once again. Beetle didn't even say goodbye. It was okay, though, because Eugene didn't think he could have answered without puking - the entire world was swimming in front of his eyes. Closing them only made everything even more unsteady, and now Eugene wondered if he could even try to do a good smolder in that state. He couldn’t feel his face.

His eyes were heavy, and it didn't take long before he passed out again.

------

Next time Eugene woke up, it was to the sound of yelling outside the door of his cell, loud and definitely not the kind of voices he wanted to hear. Maybe it was stupid, but each time he opened his eyes, he hoped to find Rapunzel here, ready to rescue him, but it hadn't happened… yet.

Trying to raise his head only awakened the ache in his neck and back from the terrible position he was in - he hated sleeping on chairs. Being homeless for a good part of his life had taught him that the bare ground was always preferable, but he didn't think he could argue about his sleeping conditions with his kidnappers. He pulled on the rope that was keeping his hands tied behind his back, and noticed that it was giving a little. If he could just-

"Your plan better work!" someone yelled, startling him - but it was still coming from behind the door. "You don't realise what we're risking with this!"

"Of course it'll work! Do you really think that the son-in-law of the King and the husband of the Princess is worthless? They're gonna listen to us because they'll want him back."

That was… touching, in a strange way. Not that Eugene enjoyed being taken for ransom, or whatever it was they wanted to do, but it did remind him that he had a family, and that they would fight to get him back. Rapunzel was probably worried out of her mind, right now, and this was enough to spur him into action again, because he didn't want to simply wait here for rescue like an idiot.

"What if they attack us?" the scared guy yelled again, as Eugene pulled on his bounds again, ignoring the sharp sting of the rope cutting into his skin, and his ever-present nausea. "What if- what if instead of paying, the guards find us and destroy our base?"

In Eugene's opinion, the guards weren't really the threat here - this guy didn't want to know what Rapunzel would do to him if she found them. The thought was enough to make him chuckle, which in turn made him realise that the weird water might still be having an effect on him, because he hadn't managed to keep himself quiet. Not great.

His fingers fumbled with the knot he could feel, trying to get it to loosen even more. Unfortunately, the door of his cell -more like a closet than a cell to be honest- was thrown open, and he had to act as innocent as possible.

Going by the glare he received, he was doing a poor job of it.

The new guy (he'd call him Martin, because he had a Martin face) seemed to enjoy kicking him around a bit more. The only silver lining was that he seemed intent on kicking his ribs, and consequently left his poor head alone. Still not the best, but Eugene would take it. He didn't have much choice anyway, since Martin decided to greet him with his fists today.

"Feeling better yet?" Eugene breathed when he thought it was over. He earned another kick for the trouble.

"You better hope they pay what we ask of them," Martin snarled, way too close for Eugene's comfort. "Because I can't say that I won't enjoy killing you if it comes to that."

"Aww, I'm touched, truly," was all Eugene could say, before a hand ended up around his throat, and he couldn't talk anymore. He vaguely heard Martin threatening him again, but honestly, the guy should realise that it was difficult to be afraid of him when Eugene was barely conscious enough to understand him.

It went down the same way as it always did, these days. Eugene was forced to drink that damned drugged water -it was getting more disgusting each time-, and he couldn't breathe, and the Martin guy said something about hurting Rapunzel, and if you think you're gonna be able to touch her you've got another thing coming you assho-

And Eugene lost consciousness. Again.

------

When he woke up again, Eugene couldn’t breathe. The world was loud, too loud, his vision was swimming and the room spinning under him, and he couldn't- it was as if his breaths were getting stuck in his ribcage, and was he still being choked, what-

"Hey, Eugene, it's okay, look at me-"

Dragging in air painfully, he opened his eyes to a slit, meeting the frantic and oh so green ones of- Rapunzel?

"Come on, it's okay, breathe with me," she said, voice low, and he listened to her - how could he not? For a moment, when it felt like he was still dangerously tethering on the edge of choking, he wondered if she was even real, or if it was all a dream conjured by the lack of oxygen. Then, she brushed his hair back, her palm warm and tangible on his cheek, and it felt real enough that he melted into it.

"That's it," she encouraged him gently, one hand resting lightly on his heaving chest. "That's it, breathe. I won't let them hurt you anymore."

He couldn't hold back a nervous chuckle at that, but going by the pinch of her eyebrows, that wasn't the right reaction. After a few seconds, when he finally felt like his lungs weren't about to explode, he tried to smile at her. It only seemed to worry her more.

Her fingers trailed along his jaw, tracing what he knew were dark bruises on his skin. She went higher, to his hair, and touched something that immediately made him flinch.

"Sorry, sorry, I-" she exclaimed quickly, pushing his hair away again. "I'm gonna get you out of here."

His perceptions were still blurred, as if he was underwater, but he could hear now the sounds of fighting and chaos coming from behind the door. Rescue. He was being rescued - Rapunzel was rescuing him. He knew she would do it.

"Well, I wish I had been a little quicker," Rapunzel said, her voice wobbly.

"You're just in time Sunshine," he whispered, his throat raw.

"Am I?"

He didn't like the self-deprecation in her tone, nor the worry that didn't seem able to leave her features, and he felt guilty for being the cause of it. If he hadn't been kidnapped-

"Eugene? Eugene, stay with me," Rapunzel asked, with an urgency that made him realise he had closed his eyes. Huh. He was dizzy. "I know, I'm sorry, just- I'm gonna free you, okay?"

He blinked, trying to look at her so she would stop sounding so… scared. She was fumbling with the ropes holding his left hand in place. There was the sound of an explosion outside, right as she got rid of the first one, and she threw an indecipherable look at the door.

He wanted… He wanted her to stop looking so sad. He didn't like it when she was sad. Could he do something about it? Well-

"The smolder doesn't work," he mumbled dejectedly. Rapunzel was taking care of his bound legs now, though he didn't remember her freeing his right hand. He moved it slowly, feeling as if the limb wasn't his own, and wondered how much the weird water was still affecting him.

"Weird water?" Rapunzel repeated. He wasn't sure how to not voice all his thoughts aloud, apparently, which he's sure his dad would find amusing.

Since Rapunzel was still looking at him, Eugene took a few seconds to remember her question and simply hummed, head swimming. That seemed to make her even more unhappy, and he could get disliking the water, but he didn't like when Rapunzel was unhappy. "Do you... think the smolder ever, uh... worked?" he asked, trying to distract her.

"I'm sure it did," she answered, in the same gentle tone she used on people she disagreed with.

"It- it never worked on you, though. And it wouldn't have worked on Beetle, or- or- Martin," he pressed. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, and now his feet were free but he really didn't have the energy to try and get up. He didn't want to puke on Rapunzel, too.

She didn't reply. Instead, she looped one of his arms around her neck, and braced her hand against his ribs. He winced, and she apologised quietly, but before he could try to argue that he didn't think he could do it, she made him stand up swiftly, grip tightening around him when his knees inevitably buckled. He closed his eyes tightly, ears ringing painfully and stomach churning, and he was grateful that he could count on Rapunzel to not let him fall on his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she kept repeating, adjusting his weight to stop him from sliding down further. "I know it's hard, but I'll get you to safety, I promise, just hang on-"

Eugene could guess that he really didn't look great if she was that desperate to comfort him. To be fair, he didn't feel great either. He could barely follow her words, couldn't stand up on his own, and had to focus all his energy into not being sick as Rapunzel helped him walk. It clearly wasn't his best day.

He tried to regain his footing, so she didn't have to drag him with her, but his legs were shaky and he nearly fell again. He thought Rapunzel was going to toss him over her shoulder and run, which he knew she could do, and he also knew his body wouldn't appreciate as much as usual given his current dizziness, but that was exactly the moment Maximus arrived to the rescue. Or maybe they arrived to Maximus? There were more people around them, more noises and voices too, and Eugene couldn’t follow anything of what was happening. He thought he heard Lance, and felt another hand holding him up, but all he could focus on was Rapunzel being here, and Rapunzel talking to him, and calling his name, his one beacon of light when the pain in his head grew to be too much to bear.

He felt her hand in his, and realised that he had been laid down somewhere. He wanted to reassure her, but couldn’t do much more but feebly squeeze her fingers, hoping she would understand. And then, because he was tired and in pain, and because he knew that, now that she was here, he was going to be okay, Eugene passed out.

------

“You are evil,” Eugene moaned, hiding his face under his pillow while Rapunzel laughed innocently.

"What, I'm trying to help!" she smiled, coming to sit next to him on the bed. He felt the mattress dip under her weight, and took a peek at her, groaning again when he saw how smug she seemed. "I even made flyers and everything!"

She didn't seem to care about the annoyed look he threw her way, instead putting a bunch of papers in his hands. On it, his face, lips pursued and eyebrows raised, with the text asking the people of Corona to come test his “infamous smolder” by themselves. At this moment, Eugene would have preferred to have his old wanted posters thrown in his face - it would be way less embarrassing than… this.

“Come on Eugene, what better way to know for certain than to experiment? You seemed really bummed out about your smolder!”

“I wasn’t in my right mind,” he grumbled. “You can’t hold me accountable for my concussed ramblings!”

Her expression softened at that, and her hand came to caress his cheek, gently trailing up to the bandages still around his wound. Her touch was soft enough to not sting, and he couldn’t keep up his facade of annoyance when it was so obvious she simply wanted to make him laugh.

“I love you, you know?” he breathed, and she had a second to look pleasantly surprised before she leant down and kissed him.

“I love you too, Eugene,” she smiled fondly.

“You’re the only person I care to seduce anyway,” he laughed. “I guess I’ll have to live with the smolder being ineffective.”

“If that helps,” she murmured, climbing fully on the bed to lie down next to him, “I feel pretty seduced by you already.”

“Ah yeah?” he grinned. “Well, I’m pretty seduced by you too, Sunshine. You’re my hero after all,” he said, and though he had intended it as a joke, his tone was too earnest to be mistaken as anything but the truth. He could still see glimpses of guilt in Rapunzel’s expression, when he knew she had done everything in her power to find him as quickly as she could - he’d repeat it as much as she needed to finally see it too.

Rapunzel watched him, before cupping his cheek and bringing their lips together once again. He knew he would need to rest again soon, and that his constant headache would probably spike if he didn’t, but for now, he kissed her back, and it felt like everything was alright again. Because it was, in all the ways that mattered.

She saved him, and they were together - he wouldn’t ask for anything more.

[adamfoolcry]

of coffees and holidays (d.sc)

pairings: Ballerina!Sicheng x CafeOwner!FemReader

rating: 13+

warnings: swearing

genre: angst and fluff

synopsis: Your and Sicheng's love story in five coffees with varying degrees of sweetness spanning five Christmases.

word count: 3k+

a/n: for @127-mile, I hope I did justice for your prompt. Hope you enjoy reading it. Happy Holidays! 🎅 Thank you to @neoculturechristmas for organizing such fun event. It can be read in chronological order if y'all wanted to. I promise it's a happy ending. Not proofread so please excuse the mistakes, I am so dumb. Please reach out to me if you would like to do so. - xo aria

Christmas 2019 - Espresso

Outside as flakes of snow fell from the sky, like a light shower of glitter from the heavens, the elusive holiday spirit seemingly present in the air; you watched a young couple huddled together to share warmth, fingers intertwined, cheeks glowing red partnered with coy smiles on their faces, and a family of three in admiration of their son as he showed off his Christmas gift. The streetlights emitting an orange glow providing an aura of softness, making everything come together to form a picturesque scene.

Heartwarming as these scenes were, they failed to evoke any emotion out of you; if anything you feel excluded from it entirely. To you the world behind the cafe's glass windows is just a film you're screening in the cinemas, and you were nothing but a mere spectator. You continue to stare listlessly at the throngs of people passing by until they all mesh into a blur of colors your eyes couldn't catch fast enough. That's better.

Inside the cafe although decorated with trinkets for the holidays there was an air of sadness permeating every corner and seated itself onto the furnishings. Lately it seems like sadness is following you around everywhere - like a shadow - and instead of trailing behind you it looms over you shrouding your every thought until it completely consumes you.

No one stepped foot inside the cafe and with no one to entertain your mind drifts to him. Sicheng.

How many days has it been? Since you last saw him. You've lost count, a lie you tell yourself to make the dull ache in your chest bearable. 

It's a torture how you could recall that day - the day you lost him - so vividly as if you are forced to relive it every time the silence eats away at your resolve; to tuck the moment into the deep recesses of your mind, where it can't hurt you. When every little thing reminds you of him, his favorite spot at the cafe, black turtlenecks and that undeleted grainy picture of his sitting in your gallery. 

You could never forget the look on his face, resignation etched into every crevice of his features, a forlorn smile on his lips. 

"I see," he said in a bittersweet tone before he turned his back at you. 

The slam of the door is the nail that hits the coffin. Sicheng is gone. He has already walked out of your life. That was the last you saw of him for he never visited the cafe again.

A month passed by when Sicheng called you. Your heart leaped as his name flashed on your screen and your thumb shakily pressed the answer button; afterwards lifting it near your ear.

There was no greeting as he uttered in his low voice that you have missed so much, "My flight to Russia is this Saturday." 

Your heart sank.

"I want you to see me off, ______." 

Don't go please stay with me but there are certain thoughts that weren't meant to be put into words so instead, "I'll be there." You reassured him.

But you never showed up at the airport that Saturday. Instead, you were at the cafe staring at the screen of your phone blinking on and off as a wave of notifications with his name flooded your phone. Why make things harder? As if him leaving wasn't hard enough. You pressed the power button long enough to shut down your phone.

The following days passed away into months that's a haze in your mind. You can't recall anything worth remembering. You quickly filled up your schedule with mundane tasks just to have something to do filling every gap of your vacant time. 

At night you fell straight to bed, your body collapsing from the physical strain you have subjected it with. Establishing a packed routine without idle time so you don't have time to linger on the dull ache in your chest - always there like a festering wound. This works until you find your list of chores unexpectedly accomplished earlier than you planned, the cafe shrouded in still quietness. 

Alone with nothing else to do the dull ache amplified to a crippling one and it bites you right back in your face, forcing you to acknowledge the hollow feeling that seems to reside in your chest permanently. Your eyes would be heavier, your vision blurry, trying to blink away the tears but ultimately failing as it trails down your cheeks; you clutch at your chest because it hurts and you regret that the last you'll see of Sicheng is that face of hurt he wore.

Christmas 2016 - Vanilla Latte

You placed the cup of vanilla latte sitting on a saucer on the table daintily, pushing the saucer across the wooden table towards the customer, avoiding to make any noise. The customer seemed so engrossed with the novel he is reading - nose almost touching the pages - that you don't want to disturb him. 

The said customer is a regular, there was not a month that he hasn't visited the cafe. Showing up five minutes after you flip the signage to open, with no fail not even a minute late. 

Wearing all black from head to toe, a tall lithe figure, and an androgynous facial structure, your guess is that he works as a model. Even now without trying he is captivating; he makes the cafe look like a set for a magazine spread just by lounging in the matching cherry wood table and chair, and you can't help but stand there and shamelessly stare at him. god really has his favorites.

His work must require him to travel to different countries and have photoshoots in scenic spots, oh how you wish you could also jetset to other countries. Packed schedule for the day that he doesn't have time to think about what he is going to do next. That is a luxury you don't have especially in the ber months for there is a decline in customers and with no one to entertain, your mind goes on an overdrive pondering on uncharted waters of how you have nothing else going for you but run this cafe.

Aside from his penchant to wear all black, read a novel while drinking his choice of beverage - choice of beverage you ask? - you see the other peculiar thing about this man is that he doesn't have a 'regular drink'. Most if not all people who go to a cafe know what they are going to order before they have set foot inside. This man doesn't, his eyes would flit on the menu, scanning from left to right and back again. It is almost ritual like, this would go on for a good minute or two as you drum your fingers on the counter waiting for his order. 

The snow is falling outside covering the otherwise grey pavement white, decorations for the festivities hung around the four corners of your quaint cafe. Yet here he is, nursing a cup of coffee instead of being somewhere else. Doesn't he have a family? to celebrate Christmas with?

"Can I help you?" The man said, turning his face slightly in your direction not quite yet abandoning the book in his hand.

"Ohh uhmm-" you were jolted out of your trance, startled you took a sidestep only to collide with the chair where a large unzipped duffel bag was placed. The contents of the bag spilled over. 

"Shit! I am sorry." You quickly knelt to the ground to pick up the scattered items on the floor, the man joined you. Charger, earphones, epsom salt, bandage, and tiger balm ointment as you picked up the items you also increasingly grew baffled. What a weird assortment of things. You reached for the item that somehow managed to get under the table and as your fingers came in contact with the rough material of the cloth you learned that your assumption of his job was wrong. A man's canvas ballet shoes.

I thought he was a model.

"What?" The man questioned. You wince to yourself you just didn't say that out loud. You emerge from under the table to find that the man was looking at you too intently for your liking. His eyes sought out yours waiting for an explanation and as if you owe him one you started explaining yourself. 

"Well, you are tall and extremely handsome so .." Cringing as the words flew out of your mouth. The man chuckled at your confession, a tell tale sign of a smile on the corner of his lips.

"I am flattered really but as you can deduct by now I actually do ballet." He rose to his feet and offered you his hand to help you stand up. 

Unlike other days where he will leave the cafe after an hour or two, this time he stayed and unlike other days where you find yourself alone in the cafe; you find yourself enjoying the company of this mysterious man. 

Where you quickly learned that all your presumptions about him have little truth in it. You learned that his name is Sicheng, and he is a principal dancer for the Korean National Ballet company not a model although with his looks he might as well be one. Yes, he travels but mostly for tours and performances. He practices an average of eight hours a day. 

Your fascination for his life spurred the conversation as if you were friends catching up with each other. With the book set aside and the contents of the cup long empty you two didn't notice how much time had passed. He bid you goodbye with a promise to visit you again tomorrow. As you watch his retreating figure getting smaller, the snow piling on top of each other over the glass windows of the cafe there was a smile on your lips - the warmth of a newfound friendship is akin to a good cup of coffee - making you warm from the inside out.

Christmas 2017 - Cappuccino

"Surprise me," Sicheng said leaning on his hip at the counter, arms crossed on his chest, when you asked him what he would like to drink. Standing there he looked like the culmination of your dreams.

Maybe it's the iridescent lights from the numerous christmas lights that flickered on his face making him look more exquisite or the grin he gave you after. You did surprise him but not in the way he was expecting and to be honest you are also shocked by your sudden brazenness as you lean in to kiss his plush lips. The kiss didn't last long, a little more than a peck but long enough for you to regret it.

"I .. I am sorry," you stammered burying your heating up face in your hands, embarrassed. You didn't even see Sicheng's reaction, was he appalled? You peeked through your fingers to find out, when Sicheng started laughing, tipping his head back a little, eyes crinkled in mirth, his right hand covering the half of his handsome face. 

You want nothing more than to shrivel up in one corner. He started tugging at your wrists, pulling your hands away from your burning face.

"Mind giving me more of that surprise?" The corner of his lips curved upwards, nose slightly crinkled, and you wished to etch his face to memory.

Christmas 2018 - Americano

He was late, you glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, it is now 11 P.M. and soon Christmas will be over. 

The americano you have prepared already cold, his untouched while yours halfway finished. It's fine though because you know that this will be the first of the many Christmases you have to spend without Sicheng. You must get used to spending it alone again. 

Musing to yourself your mind quickly took a trip down the memory lane of his last visit to the cafe before he got on tour with the company for one of the holiday stage productions. 

--------

You have only heard the thud of the door as it closed on its hinges. You are currently cleaning the countertop back bowed and eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you meticulously scrubbed at the stubborn grease that won’t budge, lifting your head to do the customary greeting, when something or rather someone barreled straight to where you are, engulfing you in a tight hug that shoved you headfirst into that someone’s chest your nose burrowed deeply into the black cloth. 

Recognizing the intoxicating scent of light musk and citrus, relief flooded you as you hugged Sicheng back. You don't know how long the two of you stayed in that position basking yourself with his warmth just a little longer.

He's real, he's here a safe and solid presence by your side. You can count by one hand the things that have endured with you throughout the years, other than the cafe which you have run since your mother got sick, dropping out of college to keep it going. And one of those is Sicheng you've found in him stability and comfort your past partners can't give you.

Sicheng pulled away putting some distance between the two of you, his arms naturally falling at his sides. He was wearing one of his brightest smiles, the apple of his cheeks high and pronounced on his face.

"_______, I've been offered the position of principal dancer at Bolshoi Ballet in Russia," He can't help but smile again clearly enthusiastic with the prospect of joining one of the most prestigious ballet companies.

It took you a moment to answer settling with an unconvincing, "Wow." You don't know how to react with his news, but you feel dread in the pit of your stomach. You don't like the idea of him leaving. You try not to let it show in your face.

"I know. I was also surprised." As if sensing the change in your demeanor he asked concerned, "Is something wrong, ______?" 

"Nothing let me whip you a drink I found from the net," you brushed him off with a wave of your hand. 

----------

"Hey _______, I am sorry there was some minor traffic that held us back," Sicheng announced his entrance that broke your reverie. Setting his duffel bag on the floor to sit on the opposite chair facing you.

His hair tousled, cheeks rosy and nose red but despite his healthy complexion you can also see the pronounced bags under his eyes with a tinge of violet. He looks tired and in dire need of rest. Yet he headed straight to the cafe instead of his apartment. 

"Sicheng I've wanted to tell you something," perching your arms on the table to fiddle with the ear of the cup.

"Yeah?" Sicheng asked, staring right at you.

"I think," you cast your eyes down on the table, and with a small voice continued, "we should break up." 

"You think?" 

"I mean we should"

"Why?"

"I ... it's just that it will be easier for you." Your hands started gesticulating in the air.

"Don't give me that bull shit. You are not the judge of that," Sicheng replied in a cold manner.

"It's just you have this life before me and you'll also have a life after me." Your voice cracked, and you gathered your strength to look at him. "I am grateful that you have been a part of my life. You are crazy talented and right now the world opens up in front you and you deserve better. I can't give you that I ..-," clutching at your chest, "I am just me."

"It's nice to know that you think of me as some temporary phase in your life and here I am fool enough to think that maybe you'll want to come with me to Russia," a cruel laugh slipped from his lips, "christ, I can't even choose what coffee I'll be having and finally for once in my life I've never been so sure of anything," voice trailing, "but us.

"So I'll still ask because I know I will regret it, if I don't. Do you want to come with me?" Sicheng pierced you with his eyes, wearing his heart out on a sleeve. Leaving himself unguarded and hoping you'll come through.

But you have never been brave. "I'll stay and you go."

"I see," he said in a bittersweet tone before he turned his back at you. 

Christmas 2020 - White Chocolate Mocha

"I told you Renjun you don't have to do your shift at Christmas." You look up to reprimand Renjun, and instead are met with familiar feline eyes that seem to see right through you. There stood Sicheng looking like an intricate piece of art displayed in the museums. It is more painful to look at him than anybody warned it would be. It hurts how familiar you are with him still dressed in black - turtleneck and slacks, his trusty duffel bag hanging on one shoulder, he's still the same but now you are nothing more than a past fling to him.

"Hey," Sicheng walked towards the counter greeting you.

"Hey," you shake your head from the trance that took over you, "Oh I'll make you something."

"I'll have a white chocolate mocha." Slightly surprised by his request it took you a second to start preparing it.

"When did you come back?" You inquired as you moved about to prepare his drink.

"Yesterday night" 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have fetched me?" He asked nonchalantly.

You momentarily stiffen evading to answer the question you throw another at him, "How are you? Is Russia treating you well?"

"Can we cut the crap out? As much as I love dancing, I don't like dancing around in circles. I've come back for one reason only." 

"Will you come with me to London?"

Looking at Sicheng standing there - after how much you have hurt him - you thought you will never see him again and you have long accepted that punishment. You are not brave and you will never be but

"Yes, I'd love to go with you."

what you have with him is worth it.

a/n: Read more of my works for NCT here:masterlist

[thefanficmonster]

Promise

Anthony (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Death scenes, Grief, Housefire, Angst, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Romance

Summary: Sneaked glances and pass-by smiles are often times the start of the most beautiful of love stories. Sadly, many of those stories end too quickly, too soon for the souls in love to be able to enjoy them. This is the story of Y/N and Anthony. The love story that started with a promise and ended in flames.

Requested by @niksoiio Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I apologize for taking so long, but here it finally is! I know how excited you were for this fic, so I hope it fulfills your expectations and doesn’t let you down! Please enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

Never is a love story as pure as one long awaited to commence. The souls patiently waiting to intertwine, the emotions dying to shine through more than just glances and secret smiles. Feelings to mix, collide and dance together, creating a symphony of a lifetime. The symphony of love that lives beyond the end of the very souls that sparked it.

This is a love story, a story of loss, and a clear example, proof that a love simply doesn’t die. It’s an everlasting flame - burning brighter than the one that attempted to destroy it.

                                                              ~~~

“You seem restless tonight.“ Anthony walks into the living room, placing a cup of hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of Y/N who’s reading the back cover of the book he has been keeping himself busy with lately. 

Y/N has been Tanya’s friend since they met in middle school. When their friendship carried over into high school, that’s when her and Tanya’s adoptive brother Anthony met. They instantly became friends, sharing their love for thrillers and murder mysteries, similar taste in music and relatively similar personalities - the quiet peacemakers. The lovers, not fighters. Well, not fighters unless necessary. They are both protectors with many people they care about and would do anything to keep them safe. The two of them are pretty similar that way. 

Very compatible, as some would say. Tanya being the first to notice the connection between two of the closest people in her life. Knowing the shyness of the two and their self-doubt, she chose not to speak up about it until spoken to, expecting them to take ages to finally see what’s been going on between them. Guess she wasn’t far from the truth.

On this night Y/N and Tanya were supposed to spend their time studying together for the last exam of the semester before Christmas break began. They have agreed to meet at the Clarke house at six PM in the afternoon which has long passed and Tanya is still yet to return from the date she went on with her boyfriend Vince. She promised Y/N she’d make it home by six, but now it’s eight and there’s no sign of her whatsoever. A snowstorm started slowly taking over the town approximately two hours ago, probably the reason behind her friend’s absence, but to Y/N’s dismay, also the reason she’d have to spend the night at the Clarke household because her parents wouldn’t be able to collect her in this weather, especially not with the run-down car they drive.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She nods in gratitude at the boy who sits down on the couch next to her as she takes the mug containing the hot beverage with as firm of a grip as she can muster with her shaky hands. 

She has indeed been restless since she arrived. Walking into the house, apart from Anthony who had let her in, the first person she saw was the youngest member of the family - Megan. The little girl has never done anything to her in particular, but there has always been something about her that has unnerved Y/N. Something in her eyes and demeanor, how empty and hollow her gaze was, almost like she was looking through people and objects instead of at them. The smile she sent her as a greeting sent chills down her spine, leaving her hands and knees shaky and her body jittery as if the house was colder than the outdoors. The thought that she’d have to sleep in this house made her stomach clench with discomfort, a sickening feeling of wrong taking over her mind and body.

“Maybe it’s the exam. You know, if Tanya doesn’t make it, I can help you. It’s not a difficult subject, after all.“ Anthony attempts to reassure her, giving her a sympathetic look as he takes a sip of his own cup.

She gives him a soft smile and another nod of appreciation for his offer, “No, it’s not that. Or at least I think it isn’t. Exams don’t make me nervous until after I’ve finished them, if that makes sense.” She giggles weakly, basking in the warmth of the porcelain cup in her ice cold hands. It doesn’t have much of an effect though - instead of warming up her skin, her hands are basically cooling the drink and she still feels as tense and endangered as ever. “But a study partner could be pretty useful, thank you.”

After finishing the rather disappointing movie they found on TV as well as their drinks, they make their way to Anthony’s room to actually get some studying done because, judging by the nearing of nine PM and the constant lack of her friend, she wouldn’t be returning on time. Anne attempts to offer them before they go, an offer which they turn down in favor of making the most of the time they have left before their brains would require rest for the day.

“You see, I get that it’s far less complicated than it seems, but I’m terrible at paying attention in classes, let alone at taking notes.“ Y/N admits while they take a short ten minute break between note-reading and revising the chapters they’ll have an exam on the following day.

Anthony’s eyebrows furrow, “Why’s that? I mean, the professor isn’t boring. Not to me, at least.“

She shakes her head, “No, no, far from it. The rare time’s I’ve managed to focus I quite enjoyed the lectures. But I tend to get too stuck inside my head to hear anything else. My brain gets overwhelmed by the future, by what’s gonna happen five minutes, five days or maybe even five years from the present moment. I sometimes get so lost in those thoughts that I end up...this is gonna sound weird, but I feel like I end up living them.” Somewhere along the lines she could no longer hold his gaze, embarrassed and afraid of how his opinion of her might change with this newly revealed information.

However, much to her surprise, when her eyes meet his again he’s looking at her with nothing but intrigue and child-like curiosity. No amusement or humor or mocking, just wondering, hoping to find out more. Little does she know, that’s how he always looks at her when she is facing the other way. “That’s so interesting. I guess the real question is: Do the things you imagine ever end up coming true?” It was said with a lighthearted smile with the intention of easing the tension in her, calming her nerves, but he had unintentionally struck a chord.

She nods her head, her eyes widening slightly, “Well that’s the weirdest part - they do. Almost all the time unless I do something to prevent it. It freaks me out every time.” An aura of fear surrounds and inhabits her as her gaze wanders away from his again, this time subconsciously, “It scares me so much, Anthony. I know something’s terribly wrong with me. I’m a freak of nature or...I don’t even know what. I just know it’s bad. And I probably shouldn’t have told you all of this cause you now won’t ever look at me the same, you will avoid me. Call me crazy behind my back. I see why but-...”

Before the petrified girl could continue rambling, Anthony takes hold of her hands, firm and comforting. The sudden, unexpected contact of their hands silences her, freezing her eyes on his as she breathes heavily in hopes to stabilize her rapid heart and far worse shakiness. With his hands holding hers, she feels protected, guarded from whatever the future may hold and from the very fact that she could probably find out if she tried. For once though, she doesn’t feel like she has to. She doesn’t need to see what will happen and prepare, she trusts it won’t be so bad as long as she has this boy holding her by the hands, looking at her with such softness in his green orbs staring back at her.

“But that’s all nonsense, Y/N. I’d never say something behind your back, especially not something meanspirited or ill-willed. You...“ he trails off, hesitating for just a moment longer, deciding against prolonging this grey area his feelings have been locked in for far too long as it is, “You are very important to me, more than you know. I could never see you as anything but amazing, mesmerizing. You’re you, Y/N. And that’s why....“ Hesitation and doubt make one final attempt at beating his courage bloody. Much like last time, they fail and Anthony carries on, “That’s the reason I’ve fallen in love with you, Y/N. Quirks, oddities, they are all beautiful cause they are yours. And I love them cause they make you who you are.“

He has somehow managed to turn the tables on her, leaving her to be the speechless one despite her having just revealed her freaky ‘abilities’ to him. What looks like a fiasco in her mind he’s made seem like a perfectly put together kaleidoscope. Like every piece of her shattered courage and bravery is back in it’s spot. Although he’s somewhat managed to put her together, she’s still a long way from being whole, which is why words have failed her now. She hasn’t felt so complete in so long, and now the final piece missing is that response that just refuses to leave her chest.

Seeing her stunned as she is, Anthony feels the need to apologize, justify his out-of-the-blue confession that startled her so much, “I know I should’ve you sooner, or at least picked a better moment but-...”

It’s her turn to cut him off though her method is much more efficient - silencing him by pressing her lips against his.   Though caught off-guard, Anthony is quick to respond to it, kissing her back with the same amount of love she’s put in on her end.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m so sor- WHOA!“ The two pull apart at the sound of the familiar female voice that has suddenly filled the room. Tanya has picked the worst of moments to be coming home, and she’s more than aware of it. Despite feeling guilty for interrupting her brother and best friend’s moment, she’s also glad she didn’t miss it. After all, she’s been watching the two suffer in silence, pining for each other since the start of their high school freshmen year and even now that they’re in college. They’ve been quiet about their feelings for more than four years and she can’t be happier to finally see the prophecy fulfilled. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for you two to finally succumb to your hearts and turn those lame brains you have off?! Oh this is a relief like no other.” The older girl laughs, pleased with the outcome of four years of looking on at two very important people in her life adoring one another and not saying a word. Needless to say, she’s proud of them.

“Do you know what knocking is, Tanya?“ Anthony is the first to recover from the initial shock of his sister’s appearance.

“Only in theory. Not in practice.“ She replies sarcastically, giving a pleased smile that speaks volumes of how her spirits have been lifted all thanks to them. “I’ll go downstairs, pretend I didn’t see what I saw, make myself a cup of tea to warm up and when I come back I want to see that you two have pulled yourselves together. Your faces are burning red.” She instructs, backing out of the room but not before fixing them a narrow-eyed warning look.

She wasn’t wrong - they are indeed blushing a deep red and all they can do is smile when they look at each other, giggling a tiny bit.

Suddenly, Y/N’s eyes widen as though she has just remembered something of great importance. “Wait.” She mutters, more to herself than to Anthony. Her hand swiftly slides the ring off the middle finger of her left hand and offers it to Anthony, “Here.” The boy takes it hesitantly, turning it between his fingers as gently and cautiously as he can as though the ring would crack if his grip became any firmer. “By taking in, you’re making a statement, a promise. A promise that you won’t change your mind about me...about us by tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or by next week.” She’s unable to look at him yet again, instead focusing on her fidgeting hands rested in her lap.

After a brief moment of contemplating, Anthony hands her back the ring, “I don’t need to make a promise, I know I won’t change my mind. You could look into the future and see for yourself too.” He tells her reassuringly, a sweet smile on his face to show the lightheartedness of what he’s said, afraid it might be offensive to her if he didn’t clarify.

She shakes her head, “For once in my life I don’t want spoilers for the future. I’ll just let it play out. I’ll see it when it happens.” She pushes the ring back to him, “But I still want you to keep this. A reminder, if not a promise. A reminder that I promise to love you for a very long time.”

A warmth spreads throughout his chest, the wholesomeness of the moment having reached to his heart and soul. He curls his fingers over the ring protectively, “Alright, I’ll take it. As a promise that I too promise to love you for even longer.”

The strings of emotion connecting them are slowly being pulled, bringing them closer once again. They both lean in, ready to feel that incredible magic of a love-filled kiss another time.

“Consider this me knocking! My hands are kinda full so just open the door if I can come in!“ Lips less then an inch apart, they’re interrupted by the shout coming from the other side of the bedroom door.

The young pair laugh, accepting that their moment will have to be postponed before Anthony goes to let his sister, who’s carrying a cup of tea and some snacks, in. All Y/N can think about is how much happiness she’s found so unexpectedly, in a place she was all but willing to stay at. Life is full of surprises and unforeseen moments, so many things one can never predict. And even though Y/N can predict them, now she’d rather not. She now understands the importance of surprises in life and she wants to cherish them properly.

                                                            *  *  *

Flames, fear, screams, shouts, cries. All painted on the backs of her eyelids. The mortifying images playing out in front of her jolt her awake.

A nightmare, it’s just a nightmare, she tells herself.

But upon opening her eyes she is met by the misty darkness of the smoke-filled room her and her best friend are currently in. 

A nightmare that she could’ve predicted and warned the others about.

“Y/N, get out of the window! I need to find Megan!“ Tanya tells her urgently, ushering her towards the windowsill, “Go! Anthony will catch you!“

Looking down at the snow*covered yard below, she sees Anthony’s figure, motioning for her to jump. She can barely hear him over the ringing and thumping in her head but she trusts him. She believes she’ll be ok if she chooses to rely on him. So, following both his and his sister’s instructions, she jumps, falling into his arms. For a few moments it’s all blank around her and in her head. She wonders if it’s just the feeling of the fall or the fact that she could’ve died so easily. Or maybe the close proximity to Anthony. Either way his whisper wakes her up from the blank trance she has fallen into.

“It’s ok, I got you.“ He steadies Y/N on her shaky feet, taking her head and leading her to the front of the house.

The next few minutes are a show of nothing but horror and pain. Her and Anthony witness it together, unable to do anything but look on as ever member of the Clarke family, one by one, has life escaping their bodies in the most brutal of ways: Tanya and Megan never made it out of the house; Mr. Clarke was caught under the fallen ceiling in the living room and Dennis was the worst, having impaled himself on the fence below the attic window.

They saw it all happen. They couldn’t do anything. Fear-ridden, powerless and helpless, frozen in their spots by the horrifying scenes playing out in front of them.  With tears brimming her eyes and blurring her vision and her knees almost completely giving out, Y/N felt a little bit of her die with each member of the family. A large chunk of her died along with them. She can only imagine how Anthony feels.

“Mom...“ The distressed boy mutters, “Mom’s still in there! Mom!“ Before she could stop him, he’s running towards what used to be the front door of the house and into the burning hallway.

Y/N’s heart drops, adrenaline and the primal instinct to save the person she loves kicking in bringing her legs to life, carrying her forward. “Anthony no!” A loud cry of desperation leaves her aching chest.

She too enters the hallway, surrounded by the overwhelming heat that feels like it’s burning her skin off. She doesn’t dwell on that though, instead she lunges forward, hands grabbing at Anthony’s arm with all her might and yanking him back with as much strength as she has left. Thankfully, it’s enough to send the boy stumbling back, falling on the snow out in the yard, falling to safety just in time.

Just when the ceiling in the hallway collapses. Directly on top of Y/N.

Like the last breath had been drawn out of Anthony’s lungs. Like his last hope had just been shredded to pieces.

Like his life ended along with her, his heart severed and plucked out of his chest, thrown into the flames.

He bows his head, uncontrollable cries leaving his body, each feeling like a punch to the gut - oh so painful and oh so dreadful. As though his very soul is draining from his body with each scream of agony. Then he spots the shimmer in the snow, the twinkle in his darkened vision.

The promise ring that had fallen out of his pocket, its smooth, gleaming surface unharmed, reflecting the raging flames in front of him. Its statement, its meaning standing stronger than ever - an everlasting love. A brightly burning flame ignited by two souls so adored by each other. And even though one of the flames that started the fire has been extinguished, the fire of love hasn’t wavered.

The ring is sending him a message:

This is far from the end of his love. Far from the end of hers either. When two souls intertwine the way theirs have, the bond cannot be broken.

                                                            *  *  *

Half a century has passed and Anthony has never missed the day - each year gracing the town of Little Hope with his presence to commemorate his late family and loved one, bringing a flower to each of their graves.

Survivor’s guilt still haunts him. That night’s events still keep him up at night and the images still seep into his dreams. However, now he has a way to cope with it. He writes. He writes in a diary but in such a way that it’s composed of letters. Letters addressed to different members of his family though the majority are love letters for Y/N. He tells her about his day, how he wishes she were by his side, how he whishes they had more time or acted on their feeling sooner.

How he loves her even more now, how they have remained connected.

“Funny how we haven’t run into each other before. Fifty years and this is the first time I’m seeing you here.“ The deep male voice startles him, “I knew we’d run into each other eventually.“

It’s Vince, Tanya’s boyfriend - the person who’s been placing the flowers Anthony find on Tanya’s grave every year. He always assumed it was him, another man forever in love with the soul that is left to linger after its body vanished. Another man chained by a memory, one he wouldn’t escape even if he could. He still loves Tanya, no doubt about it, and he wishes to never stop loving her. Him and Anthony are rather similar that way.

“Though it was you. No one else knows Tanya’s favorite flowers.“ Anthony motions to the bouquet of white flowers in Vince’s hands, “Surprised you’re still here.“ He knows it’s not the wisest thing to say to a man who’s suffering down the same road of guilt and grief - the road only lit by the everlasting love that has remained in his heart as well as Vince’s.

“Surprised you haven’t stopped coming around.“ He replies though they both know what’s insinuated - they understand why neither of them can let go. They’re bound to bodiless souls that reside here. They are both more than determined to stay as close as possible to those souls they are so hopelessly in love with.  Vince’s eyes trail down to Anthony’s hand which is holding the bouquet he was going to place on his sister’s grave. He catches the glint of a ring on his finger, “You’re married?”

The promise ring. He’s chosen to wear it in place of a wedding ring. It is not only a way to cope but it’s exactly what him and Y/N agreed on all those years ago - a reminder that they’ll love each other for a very long time. For forever.

“Yes. I’m married.“

He indeed is - to Y/N and the memory of her. To her soul that his will forever be connected to.

@artlovingbre  @sparrow-gg  @megandaisy9

[katsukikitten]

☆ Fluffy, fuzzy warmth - 1k words comments are appreciated

The punch hits the back of your throat giving you a bitter aftertaste having the opposite effect of quenching your thirst. Your eyes fall over the amassed bodies of the Pro-hero agency holiday party, it looked anything but fun. If anything you would use the word boring to describe the sad scene before you. 

Yawns escape mouths as people mingle outside of their usual cliques only to return to their patrol partners again. Everyone holding a cup of punch but nobody drinking it. You stare down into your own wishing someone has spiked the green liquid. 

"Bunch of stiffs am I right?" You say to your new patrol partner, someone who blended in well in this crowd. His two toned eyes slide to you in your fiery red dress before looking back into the crowd. 

Per the usual he says nothing and you sigh, holding up your full cup for emphasis. 

"I'm going to get more punch." But really that was code for 'I'm planning to get lost' not that he would read between the lines or that he even knew how. You had to admit one thing about the Todoroki man though,  he did know how to use his quirk and despite being so aloof he cleaned up nicely. Muscles sitting snugly in a starched white shirt and black vest. His white and red hair pushed back for once allowing for his sapphire and smoky quartz eye to be seen. You turn away from him and the throngs of murmuring people to look over the sad hors d'oeuvre table, really it was just cheese and crackers. 

Your eyes wander to the street below before going to the horizon of the skyline, the hotel sat on the fringes of the city and just a few blocks away was the start of the suburbs. Flickering lights catch your eye as snow blankets the city, an idea begins to form in your head. 

"Hey." You elbow Todoroki who looks down on you with an icy stare, "Let's ditch." 

"But the director hasn't come out yet." His voice is monotone as you wrap your arms around his bulky bicep. 

"Yea...but this is cooler. We see him almost everyday." You say pulling at the ox, he sighs allowing you to guide him out of the rented ballroom. Mindlessly following you until you hit the street. A guest of cold air rushes through the city streets sending a shiver down your spine. 

"Where are we going?" He asks, allowing you to cling to his left side as you guide him. 

"Light looking!" You exclaim while he gives you a confused look. His eyes instinctively darting to street lights.

"But we see the street lamps every day." He says confused and the look of bewilderment on his face causes you to laugh. It rings out in the quiet city streets, your laugh rings in Todoroki's stomach. He swallows thickly. 

"No, silly. Christmas light looking! You know where you walk around looking at people's decorations!" Excitement dances in your eyes as snow collects in your hair and onto the shoulders of your thin jacket. 

"I've never been light looking before." He admits, eyes glued to you. You try to keep the pity off of your face as you think of the rumors of the freshly transferred top hero. 

"He was bred to be a weapon."

And it showed now as it did in his everyday actions. In his monotone, apathetic actions as if he doesn't allow himself even an iota of emotion. Subconsciously you vowed to make this a night to remember, naturally allowing the joy to seep into your voice. 

"Then let's get started!" You pull at him, briskly walking the few blocks it takes to get to the nearest neighborhood. Even in that time in between shop windows were outlined in warm white or multicolored lights with trees of various sizes twinkling behind the glass. Each pane reflecting the same image, you wearing a bright smile and a dazzling dress hidden beneath a company jacket and himself wearing his suit and a look of confusion. 

Abruptly you stop in your tracks, taking a moment to catalog the streets and advise a plan to see the best lights while Todoroki soaks up the sights like a sponge. 

"This way!" You announce, allowing your hand to fall from his wrist and into his hand. Pulling at his fingers as you guided a helpless man through the dazzling darkness. Your trout slows to a stroll as before you're standing beside him, gently dropping his hand to cross your arms for warmth. Suddenly Todoroki's left hand had never felt so cold. His eyes stare down at you before you point to the first house. 

"Oh I love these blow ups. Look Santa is in a UFO on the roof!" You announce as heterochromatic eyes follow your finger. Sure enough the house has a spaceship atop its shingles as the roof line is defined by warm white lights. His eyes follow the length of the house until you point out the next. 

This goes on for a block before Todoroki finally catches onto the chattering of your teeth, still you're smiling through the chill in the air. Before he can suggest going back something grabs your attention as your hand absentmindedly latches onto his. Rushing to the flashing lights that seem to go to a silent tune. As the two of you approach the house you see a small sign by the front of the yard giving you a radio station the lights are illuminating to. 

"Oh, oh let me see your phone please, I think I left mine." You say impatiently fumbling with the pockets on his left side before he produces the phone from his right. You take it from his hands as politely as an excited person can before you find the radio station's website, a familiar melody filters from the speaker. You turn the music all the way up and point to the motion. Todoroki follows your finger once more, enjoying the sights and the sounds. 

He likes the way you hum the tune and softly sing the lyrics more than he likes the radio. Again those weird butterflies take flight in his stomach as his heart quickens. 

The two of you stand frozen for a song or two before moving along, you tuck the still singing phone into Todoroki's pocket. 

"Let's keep it on." You smile at him, wrapping yourself in your arms, fighting the chatter of your teeth as you pass a house or two. He wishes he could help keep you warm until he remembers what an old jade haired friend used to say. 

"I bet people love your right side in the winter. You're so warm even without using your quirk!" 

Suddenly Shoto's left hand is on your shoulder guiding you to the right side of his body. His strong, warm arm pulls you into him, your cheek pressed against his chest and your arms into his side. The smell of amber and campfire tickle your nose. You looked up at him shocked but instead of reacting to you he continued to walk forward as if this were nothing. A sigh of contentment falls from your lips in the form of fog. The only thing that would make this perfect would be food. Your stomach agrees with you growling loudly, loudly enough it can be heard over the lull of the music. Hot embarrassment creeps into your cheeks as you silently pray he hadn't heard it. 

But Shoto did hear that growl. A genuine laugh rumbles in his chest causing your flush to deepen, damn your stomach for being so loud. Something about his laugh makes your stomach knot. 

"They only had cheese and crackers there!" You say defensively while he keeps his rare smile, palm pleasantly hot against your skin.

"It's okay I'm hungry too." He admits.

"Then let's grab something to eat! You like cold soba right?" You rack your brain for a place that would sell it at this hour while he looks down at you and your cute inquisitive look. He thinks back on the night wondering what he would be doing if he hadn't let you drag him out into the drizzling cold. He would probably still be standing there frozen in his spot as the lifeless party went on around him, as life went on around him.

He had to admit he had never felt warmer standing next to you beneath the falling snow and the twinkling lights. Silently he vows to somehow make you feel as good as he does right now.

"Let's get something warm instead." He pulls you closer to him, emitting more heat than he does naturally, "Then we can finish light looking." 

[not-reagan]

milf: man i love forests

pairing: deforester boo seungkwan x frat boy mirror demon han jisung (side pairing reagan x rainbow)

genre: crack, strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au

warnings: cursing, brief supernatural elements, i don’t know if this applies but all lcase, and i listened to christmas music and abba while writing this

word count: 2.7k

authors note: happy birthday @miyuuraiura !! i am so sorry about this monstrosity being your birthday gift but you asked for it so it's your fault entirely. i was gonna include some context on this story for those who are not rainbow and i but actually i don't think i will.

seungkwan did what he could to get by. he loved nature, he really did, but sometimes you have to make moral sacrifices to survive. he was a college kid strapped for cash, and when he saw a sign reading “GET RICH QUICK, INVEST IN DEFORESTATION” in the summer going into his freshmen year, he jumped at the opportunity. sure, he would have rather been a freelance singer, hired for bar-mitzvahs and children's parties, but that job market was flooded at the moment.

jisung, on the other hand, had no care for nature. actually, he didn't care for any human things, apart from “banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches”. he hated quite a bit about earth, the worst of all to him being college. as a demon, he had no reason to attend university, but after he was summoned in the bathroom of a frat house by the school’s power couple; rainbow and reagan, he felt obliged to follow the two around and keep them company.

for seungkwan, his main job rarely required in person work. he usually just chose plots of land to demolish, and sent plans to local managers. the only time he actually had to knock down any trees himself was during his summer break. he has a part time job of course, but it didn't provide him enough cash to survive. for someone with a job as a deforester, he truly did do what he could to save the environment. he joined his schools environmental club, becoming vice president his sophomore year because of his work with them. he kept his job a secret, not even telling his parents where the influx of cash was coming from. he kept a low profile and went through the motions of life. he didn't have much of a social life, with his small amount of friends being from the environmental club.

han jisung found joy in witnessing his professors and fellow students lose their minds over his lack of effort in class. he did the bare minimum and still passed with flying colors. most of all, it angered his seatmate in earth science, who happened to be none other than boo seungkwan. seungkwan was a hard worker in everything he did, particularly in school. he didn't get the best grades, but by no means was he the worst. averaging a steady B+, seungkwan spent most of his nights studying or working, rarely going to parties and enjoying himself only through one person karaoke rooms.

this fact upset jisung. he didn't know why, but seeing seungkwan so tired every day made him feel sad(? jisung wasn't sure what it made him feel. it was an emotion he had never experienced before. rainbow told him it meant he had a crush. to this he threw an empty soda can at them). not to mention seungkwan’s upsetting karaoke addiction, which he knew all about the danger of because of reagan, who spent most of her weekends drunk and singing. jisung didn’t know why he took such a liking to seungkwan. what he did know was that he was ecstatic to find that they would be paired together for a project. a project that required quite a bit of teamwork, and a lot of after school work sessions.

seungkwan liked to think that he didn’t hate anyone. he hated evil people, like hitler and stalin and jyp, but he didn’t really hate anyone besides the worst of the worst. that was until he experienced jisung. he wasn’t sure why jisung always talked to him when he was trying to take notes in class. he especially wasn’t sure why he was so excited to be partnered up together for the project that was worth 25% of their grade. seungkwan was less than happy to have to cooperate with jisung for an extended period of time, and he was not looking forward to letting him into his dorm room, or going anywhere near jisung’s frat house. seungkwan had no idea what he was pushed into.

they planned to meet at the cafe on campus at 5:00 pm after class. seungkwan was less than happy. jisung was thrilled. when jisung arrived seungkwan was sitting at a table drinking an americano and working on an english essay. he wasn't sure how to approach him, slowly walked closer before tapping on his shoulder. seungkwan jolted in his seat.

“jesus fuck jisung. you scared the crap out of me,” seungkwan gasped. jisung’s ears flushed as he brought his hand to the back if his neck.

“sorry,” he started, pausing for a second before starting again, “why don't we get started?”. he swung his bag down to the ground as he took a seat. seungkwan offered a small, non genuine smile before pulling out the project’s guidelines.

“let's try to finish this as quickly as possible. im pretty busy and don't have much time to fool around.” seungkwan said. jisung felt his heart drop. did seungkwan really think that little of him? granted, he always dozed off in class but he got his work done on time and in an orderly fashion. he felt his mind begin to wander. if seungkwan felt this way about him now, how would he feel when he found out that jisung was a demon. would seungkwan start to like him if he knew him better? jisung couldn't figure out why he cared so much about how seungkwan perceived him. he had never had an issue with others opinions of him before, so what made seungkwan so different? for some reason, jisung felt the need to connect with seungkwan. if not for himself, then at least to help him let loose.

after working silently on each of their portions of the projects for 3 hours, jisung finally spoke up. “do you want to maybe come to my party next month? well, it's not my party, it's for rainbow’s birthday. i know you're not one for social interaction but it would be cool to see you there. i’ll give you the details if-”

“i’d love to go,” seungkwan cut off jisung’s rambling. to be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what he was agreeing to, but he knew it would shut jisung up, and seungkwan valued his peace and quiet. part of him also just felt downright bad for the other. he seemed to be trying awfully hard to become friends with seungkwan, and he wouldn’t admit it, seungkwan had started to warm up to the boy. he really wasn’t as much of an issue as he had thought before, and was actually really respectful of seungkwan’s wishes. maybe i’ll give him a chance, seungkwan thought before going back to his work.

over the next month, jisung and seungkwan continued meeting to work on their project. seungkwan was less short with the other, and jisung was still red faced every time seungkwan decided to talk to him, which became quite frequently over the next few weeks. jisung was starting to realize that the feelings he had for seungkwan were not simply platonic, and that he didn’t just want to be friends with him. with the help of rainbow and reagan, he had come to the conclusion that he really, really liked seungkwan, and that he was going to do something about it. remembering that he had invited seungkwan to the party, he devised a plan to not only tell seungkwan about his whole “i’m actually a demon” thing, but also about his true feelings. it wouldn't be easy, but it was what he had to do.

a month later, seungkwan still wasn’t exactly sure why he had agreed to go to jisungs frat house at 9:00 pm on a saturday night. yet there he was, standing on the front porch of a large house, wondering if he should bite the bullet and walk in, or spare himself and leave right then. he didn't get a choice, however, as rainbow and reagan stepped out of the house giggling while clutching onto each other. both stopped in their tracks when they saw seungkwan. the couple and seungkwan stared at each other for a good minute before seungkwan shook himself from his trance.

“hey rainbow!” seungkwan started, “and reagan too. i know we aren’t super close, but jisung invited me and i thought i’d just drop by and wish you a happy birthday.” he passed her a birthday card filled with $50 bucks and then turned to leave. “i’ll leave you guys now. have a great birthday!” before seungkwan could get very far, however, rainbow grabbed him by the arm.

“hey, i’d love if you’d stay! at least go say hi to jisung. i’m sure he’d like to see you,” she said, silently making note to have jisung pay her back for being a great wingwoman.

“he’s probably hiding in the second floor bathroom. if you don't see him in there, just say his name three times in front of the mirror. he’ll appear.” reagan explained. seungkwan thought she was joking. how wrong he was.

following his entrance to the house, he had to refuse not one, not two, but three different people who were looking to give him bottles or cups of something which seungkwan presumed to be various types of alcohol. navigating through the house was difficult, reaching the stairs to the second floor only after running into numerous people borderline fucking on two large couches in the living room, a smoke circle taking place in what seungkwan assumed to be a dining room, and a very aggressive makeout session against a wall. once he finally reached the second floor, he had some difficulty finding the bathroom, accidentally walking in on reagan and rainbow, who had miraculously made it upstairs faster than he had.

“if you don’t stop shitting constantly i am going to break up with you! also, stop taking feet pics! it’s weird!” he heard rainbow shout.

“at least i can eat seafood! how does it make your head hurt? you’re the weakest link! that fucking seafood platter was delicious. and you know what, i’m glad i didn’t have to share it with you!” reagan responded. seungkwan quickly shut the door, not wanting to get involved in whatever drunken argument was going on there. after a bit more searching, he finally stumbled across the right room. knocking first to see if anyone was in there, he entered, and to his surprise, nobody was there. jisung was nowhere to be seen. seungkwan reviewed his options. he could a) leave the party, or b) continue to look around the packed house. but there was another option. he thought about it for a second.

“what's the harm in trying,” seungkwan thought out loud, before staring directly into the mirror.

“han jisung, han jisung, han jisung.”

nothing happened. that's what seungkwan thought, until a minute later the lights in the bathroom flickered off and the mirror began to glow. “what. the. fuck,” seungkwan managed to squeak out before falling backwards into the tub. first a leg emerged, then two arms, and finally the rest of jisung’s body.

“i feel like the genie in aladin every time i have to get into a fucking mirror,” jisung complained before seeing seungkwan toppled over. to that view, he jumped down off the counter and moved to help him up. seungkwan, aside from falling, seemed to be reacting well to the whole situation, at least in the sense that instead of freaking out he seemed to be in a state of shock. jisung took this as a good sign, and lifted the motionless body up onto the toilet seat.

“hey seungkwan, you there?” jisung waved his hand in front of seungkwan's face as he slowly came to his senses.

“what kind of twisted party trick was that?” seungkwan asked, pretty seriously. jisung just laughed.

“you summoned me from the mirror. i’m like a funny version of michael jackson except i'm a demon and not a man in the mirror.” jisung explained. seungkwan just stared. “are you ok kwan? do you want me to get you some water?”

“it was… kind of sick.” seungkwan stated. he didn't know why he wasn't scared. under any other circumstance like this one, he probably would have shit his pants. for some reason he felt comfortable around jisung. he felt warm. he felt seen. it was something he hadn't felt before. that's when he realized. he wondered why it took himself to long to figure it out. he never hated jisung. he just didn't know what to do with the fact that he made him feel special, and that he felt as though he belonged when they were together. it had hit him why he was so nervous the whole night, why he had wanted to make such a good impression, and why he was willing to embarrass himself by calling out jisungs name as opposed to just choosing to go home. it was because he loved him.

“can i tell you something?” both of the boys said at the same time. jisung giggled and seungkwan flushed red. **authors note! bonus starts here**

“you first,” seungkwan offered. he wasn't exactly sure he would be able to make it through a sentence without getting any redder than he already was.

jisung took this opportunity to finally get his true feelings out into the air, “i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-”

“you're rambling again,” seungkwan told him. jisung flushed a dark shade of pink. “it's a habit of yours. i think it's cute actually.” seungkwan wasn't sure where his sudden surge of confidence came from, but he was glad it came. he was standing up now, holding jisungs hands in his. jisungs heart was racing a mile a minute as he looked down at their intertwined hands and them back up, catching seungkwan looking directly at his lips. “can… can i kiss you?” seungkwan stuttered out. jisung couldn't find his words, so he opted to just nod.

when their lips connected, seungkwan could have sworn he heard fireworks. he did later find out that someone was setting off a firework in the back yard, but it was the thought that counted. their lips melted together perfectly, and seungkwan wondered why it took him so long to admit his feelings to himself. he could have been kissing jisung for a month before this.

once they finally parted, seungkwan spoke softly, “i like you too. i think that's pretty obvious now but just in case you didn't know.” jisung had the dumbest, most confused face on, and seungkwan had the brightest smile he'd ever had. seungkwan had rendered jisung speechless, for once in his life. not long after, they started kissing again, content with their emotions and their new relationship.

seungkwan was never one to believe that good things were permanent. he was overdramatic, stubborn, and hated interacting with people outside his small social circle. that was until han jisung came along. he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he could let someone else into his life.

jisung was a simple man. well, not a man, but he was simple nonetheless. he liked banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches. well maybe there was one more thing he liked. he knew for sure he liked boo seungkwan. maybe he loved him. maybe seungkwan even felt the same way.

-fin

**BONUS**

reagan and rainbow leaned up against the door to eavesdrop on their matchmaking work.

“holy shit!” reagan gasped.

“what is it?? tell me what happened. you're hogging up the door!” rainbow hissed.

“our boy is so grown up,” reagan pretended to cry. “put your goddamn ear up here.” rainbow felt her ear connect with the cold door just as jisung confessed his feelings.

“i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-” his next words were cut off on the girls side of the door as reagan squealed.

“shut your mouth! seungkwans saying something!!” rainbow said, obviously annoyed that reagan was obstructing her ability to hear the exchange.

“can… can i kiss you?” they heard seungkwan say. both looked at each other in shock.

“oh. my. god.” was all rainbow could say.

“i think we should give them some alone time,” reagan suggested as she tugged rainbow down the hall.

“i think we need some alone time for ourselves,” rainbow said as reagan pushed her into a random room and locked the door behind them.

[ohsnapcracklepopfriends]

To be named GGMU fic: Part three - Drunk Mancs and Karaoke Don't Mix

After way too long, I'm back with another instalment of my GGMU fic (three parts down, four to go). Sorry, it took so long, life has been insanely hectic. I just wrote this in an hour of power writing, I hope you like it. Part one and part two if you haven't read them <3

Christmas parties at Sky were generally a disaster. Not only did they usually involve a room full of people all too competitive for their own good, there was usually the presence of both alcohol and cell phones which were a dangerous combination. All of this was worse to witness sober. Jamie had made the terrible decision of being the designated driver. Gary had one rule that he’d made clear to Jamie when they first started going out together: do not put drunk Gary in a cab. Gary’s a handsy drunk with zero self-control. They both know sitting in the back of a cab with drunk Gary was a recipe for a traumatized cabbie and a couple of disastrous news articles in the morning. So Jamie had agreed to drive, and that was fine. He was fine with it, truly. Jamie watched as Gary danced around in the bar they had rented out, jumping around freely while Graeme looked on with his disapproving grimace. Jamie wished he could be dancing with him, blaming it on the alcohol.

Jamie took a sip of his apple juice--which was fucking good, okay? Back off. He swished it around in his mouth, pretending it was something stronger. He swallowed and looked up. Gary was still jumping around without a care in the world. Jamie could tell he was really drunk. Gary was a total lightweight and he’d probably had about four beers to get to this point. Jamie chuckled to himself, thinking back to the nights they’d shared together when they first started dating. They’d spent quite a few nights on the floor of Gary’s living room with a bottle of wine and a bag of crisps. Jamie treasured those nights. He treasured the moments where Gary was buzzing and less scared of his emotions, letting them just enjoy their time together without Gary’s mind spinning.

Gary looked in Jamie’s direction. His face lit up when he saw Jamie leaning against the counter. He scrambled over until he stood right up against Jamie’s shoes.

“Did you see Redders?” Gary asked in a rush. Jamie laughed at the big goofy smile on his lips. He did, in fact, see Redders. Redders had taken to the small stage in the corner after his third pint. He’d been singing away at the top of his lungs--very poorly, Jamie might add--for the past hour or so.

“I want to sing, James. Come sing with me.” He tugged at Jamie’s arm. Jamie had fallen for this trap before. Last year he’d made the mistake of joining Gary for some drunk karaoke and ended up trending on Twitter. Jamie was not a singer for a reason.

“I’m sure Redders will sing with you” Jamie offered. Gary pouted. Gary was one of those people who were easy to imagine as a child. He could see a younger Gary in the way he acted when he was tired, grumpy, stubborn, and bleary-eyed. He could see a younger Gary in the way he giggled at Jamie’s jokes. He could see a younger Gary in the way he pouted during times like this, trying to sway Jamie to agree with him. It worked more than Jamie liked to admit.

“I’ll come and watch you?” Jamie tried to bargain again. Gary nodded this time and dragged Jamie towards the stage. Jamie happily let himself be pulled along. Gary’s hand was warm and sweaty where it was clutching at Jamie’s, but Jamie didn’t mind. After playing football for that long, he couldn’t be bothered by sweat anymore. After one testimonial match, Jamie found he actually liked Gary sweaty: he liked to lick beads of sweat off of Gary’s furrowed brows and watch him shutter--but that’s a story for another time.

Jamie wished they could stay like this, Gary holding his hand tightly, tugging insistently on it every few seconds, but all too soon, they found themselves at the stage. Gary dropped his hand and hopped up onto the small, wooden platform. Redders was still on the stage, red-faced and (poorly) belting the ending to Tainted Love. The stage was so small that the two men took up most of the space. Gary reached behind Redders to grab the second microphone. He grabbed Redders by the shoulder and whispered in his ear. Redders’ amused smile made Jamie nervous: what the hell did this drunk idiot have in mind?

Redders jumped off the stage with far too much grace for someone as injury prone and drunk as Jamie knew he was. He ran over to the karaoke machine and picked their song before scurrying back onto the stage to join Gary. Jamie was confused when the guitar started and he couldn’t place it.

“I got chills--” Redders started to sing and realization set into Jamie’s mind. Oh dear god, he thought, they’re doing Grease. “--It’s electrifying!” Jamie groaned. He couldn’t help himself. There was no way this wouldn’t somehow end up on Twitter. He knew sober Gary would not find this nearly as funny if it made headlines. Jamie started scanning the crowd for people with their phones out. Thankfully, most people had either gone home or were drowning themselves at the bar, after all, what was free booze for? Jamie noticed Geoff filming out of the corner of his eye. He practically ran over to him.

“You better shape up!” Gary starting singing now. He was by no means an angel, if Jamie was honest he was pretty fucking terrible. But like everything Gary did, he sang with a fiery passion and excitement that just made it utterly endearing. Jamie loved it when Gary sang.

“Give me that,” Jamie grabbed Geoff’s phone from his hands, which was pretty easy considering how sloshed he was. He barely even protested as Jamie deleted the videos and shut off his phone because Jamie was smart and knew Geoff was too far gone to figure out how to turn it back on.

“--tooooooo my heart I must be trueeeeeeee,” Gary was dancing around on the stage and Jamie couldn’t help but take a moment to stop worrying and just admire the carefree smile of his boyfriend, so blissfully happy as he made a fool out of himself in front of all of their colleagues. Jamie noticed that Gary was staring at him. Gary then brought his hand up to point directly at him.

“You’re the one that I want! Oh! Oh! Oh! Jamie!” Oh no. Oh no. This was a complete disaster. Jamie couldn’t stop himself, he jumped up on the stage. The limited space meant he had to stand pressed against Gary. Gary just smiled up at him and shoved his microphone up to Jamie’s lips. And as much as he hated it, Jamie could never deny him anything.

“Oh yes indeed,” Jamie half-sang, half spoke. It was awkward and hard to listen to even to his own ears, but Gary beamed at him and Jamie felt a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

And then he remembered why he got up here in the first place: not to sing, not to smile at Gary like a big, lovesick dork--no, he was here to put an end to this. He was here to take Gary home safely before any further disaster could strike just like he’d promised.

“If you’re filled with affection--” Redders started to sing again. Jamie used this opportunity to make their escape. He pried the microphone from Gary’s hands before placing it gently on the stage. He put his arm around Gary’s middle and firmly led him off the stage.

“Where are we going?” Gary asked. He was looking up at Jamie from where he was tucked against Jamie’s side. Jamie knew it was probably too intimate a position for them to hold in public but he found he was too exhausted to care.

“We’re going home, love,” Jamie said softly against Gary’s ear. Gary gave him a wicked grin and started to worm his fingers under Jamie’s jacket. Jamie pushed his arm away holding it against Gary’s side. This was not the time or place.

“You’re going to make me wait for it?” Gary asked. “That’s okay. It’ll be better when you fuck me later. I’ll be so ready. I’ll be begging for you.” Jamie let out a long breath. Fuck. Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you looked at it, they were out of the bar, walking down the street towards Jamie’s car. On the bright side, no one was close enough to hear Gary being far too drunk to care that he’s being far too loud. However, anyone could be on the street: reporters, idiots with cameras, though now Jamie is realizing that those are kind of the same thing. Jamie’s kidding, of course. He guessed he was kind of a journalist himself now. He generally thought of journalists as no-life drama vultures for the Daily Mail or worse The S*n.

Jamie was pretty used to wrangling drunk Gary into vehicles against his will, but this time was different. Gary was usually uncooperative just for the sake of being uncooperative. This trait just worsened after a few pints. That night Gary was shockingly content, though. He wasn’t argumentative or difficult, he was sweet and happy. He leaned into Jamie’s side on their walk and looked up at him like he just signed Messi for Man United (which Jamie couldn’t do obviously, and even if he could, he wouldn’t). When it came time to get into Jamie’s car, Gary went without complaint, let alone their usual wrestling match. Jamie was honestly getting kind of worried.

“Are you high?” He asked as he put the car in reverse. Jamie had never known Gary to smoke but he figured it was a possible explanation for his strange behaviour. Gary hummed in confusion.

“What?” He asked. Gary’s face was smushed against the passenger window, fogging up the glass with every breath.

“Are you okay?” Jamie rephrased his question for Gary’s scrambled brain, “you seem weird.”

“I’m not weird, James,” he said, his words even more drawn out than usual, “I’m happy.” He started humming something under his breath but it was so quiet that Jamie could not make it out over the engine. “Singing makes me happy, Jamie,” Gary said and Jamie knew. Gary was generally not as public of a singer as he had been that night, but he always loved singing. He sang in the shower, something that Jamie found entirely endearing. Jamie loved waking up in the morning to the sound of water and Gary’s slow voice. Jamie remembered Gary doing karaoke all the way back in their England days. He and Crouchy were always the most enthusiastic, though Jamie would never have guessed that until he saw it with his own eyes.

“I know,” Jamie said, “it makes me happy, too.” It was probably a little too honest but Jamie knew Gary wouldn’t notice. Even if he did notice, he wouldn’t remember it in the morning.

“Do you want me to sing to you?” And yet again, Jamie just couldn’t say no to Gary. Jamie expected more of what he’d heard at the pub: some eighties songs, maybe an NSYNC song or two (Redders loved NSYNC). He didn’t expect Gary to start happily singing Glory Glory Man United in his fucking car.

“Gary, what the hell?” Jamie protested but Gary just shushed him and kept singing. Jamie could hear his feet tapping against the mat of the car. And right when Jamie was about to smack Gary in the head, he realized something: Gary was drunk. Now obviously it didn’t take a genius to figure that out: he’d been steadily drinking since the party began and you could see the drunkenness in his red, flushed ears. But Jamie realized that Gary’s drunk brain was prone to forgetting basic, fundamental information. Like, for example, that Jamie was a Scouser.

Jamie figured that in Gary’s drunk brain, he wanted to sing a song to make Jamie happy. But like he’d forgotten that Tracey played netball on New Year the year before or that he was a right-back on one especially wild Wednesday night, he had forgotten that the song that brought his manc heart so much joy, did not spark the same happy memories for his boyfriend. He wasn’t trying to get on Jamie’s nerves and that knowledge comforted Jamie enough not to reach over and strangle him. So Jamie just let him sing and quietly suffered as he drove along. He tried to tamp down the simmering irritation the song automatically sparked in the pit of his stomach.

Mercifully for Jamie, Gary drifted off in the passenger’s seat less than ten minutes into their drive. Jamie instead drove the rest of the way to the sound of Gary’s loud snores.

[heyitmelexie]

Shopping

Javier Peña x GN!Reader

Word count: 1600 Warnings: soft!Javi, self-deprecating!Javi, one (1) mention of (rough) love-making

A/N: Day 5 of the December Writing Challenge by @honeymandos​! ❤️ This takes place after season 3. Javi deserves some rest and lots of love!

-----------------------------------------------------------

The streets of Laredo are bathed in colours, dozens of Christmas decorations adorning the shops and houses around you. Their lights are blinking in ever changing rhythms and festive music plays in the shops as you pass them, your fingers laced with Javi’s.

Javi never really cared about Christmas a lot since he moved away from his family. He hadn’t really celebrated it in the past years, too occupied with hunting down Pablo and then the Cali cartel.

This year’s Christmas is the first time he’s properly celebrating it in ten years.

Sure, the two of you would always kind of celebrate it together. But it was not enough, he knew that. He felt awful for keeping this away from you, knowing how much you loved Christmas. But he didn’t even have a break on the holidays. Work took him away from you for basically every day and it wasn’t really possible to celebrate a proper Christmas. But this year he was planning to go all out. Just for you.

Both of you have gone back to the States a few months ago, now that the Cali cartel had finally been shut down. You bought a house together and had decided to settle down, finally lay low and enjoy a life without danger lurking around every corner.

It took him a little while to get used to it, but now he’s enjoying it to the fullest. Every day with you is a blessing to him. He enjoys watching you dance around the kitchen in only his shirt and some undies while cooking. Gets lost in the way you scrunch your nose and frown, being the cutest thing he has ever seen, while being totally absorbed by a book. He enjoys doing absolutely nothing with you all day. You would lay in bed, your head on his chest, one leg draped over his lap and one arm laying in his stomach, gently caressing his skin.

These are his favourite days with you. In the past ten years he was never able to relax for a while, empty his mind and just lay around, not worrying about a thing. Now he can’t get enough of it. The two of you would talk about anything for hours, then make soft love, sometimes even rough if you’re in the mood for it. If you’re hungry you’d just order food, even twice that day because neither of you wants to move. You both relish in the presence of each other and he feels twenty years younger when he’s with you. He feels simply amazing since you two moved in together and it’s all just because of you.

Even back in Bogotá he could only go through it all because you were there to hold him together. Every day, when he came home, he would just hold you. Most of the times you were asleep already, but would snuggle into him and that was all he needed.

Your unique smell, the softness of your body against his, your quiet little snores, the gentle smile that you wore on your lips even while you were sleeping. All of you, it put him at ease and let him forget the horrors he faced every day. You were his anchor, and he was beyond grateful for having you in his life.

Now, as he walks next to you, one hand in yours and the other carrying several bags full of Christmas presents, he feels at peace.

He smiles at your expression of wonder and excitement, big eyes looking at all the decorations and things in the showcases, head moving back and forth, trying to take in as much as you can. The lights of the decorations make your eyes sparkle and he feels his heart swell with love and affection. It is a sight he would never tire of.

“Oh, baby, look at that!” you suddenly say, pulling him towards a showcase that is not decorated too much. Artificial fir branches hanging from the ceiling and laying in the showcase, adorned with silver baubles and simple white fairy lights. The two of you stop in front of it and Javi looks inside to see what you are so giddy about.

It is a black leather jacket, quite similar to the one he owns, but more modern.

You look up at him with a big smile. Both of you know his jacket is well-worn by now, old, the leather breaking in some places. And it got a little tight around the middle.

He looks at the price and gently shakes his head at you before pulling you away from the shop, further down the road. It is too expensive and he’d rather buy something nice for you. He wants to spoil you absolutely rotten after you had to waive all those years, because of him.

You pout but walk next to him, looking at all the other shops.

After a while you tell him to go look for a place to eat dinner at, that you would go back to that one toy store because you forgot something for your niece that you had seen in the showcase while walking past it. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before you go back and he turns to look for a restaurant.

Under no circumstances would you allow him to be selfless any longer. He had given you all he had, even when he was at his lowest and now, he wouldn’t stop this.

You enjoy giving him anything he needs and wants, the affection in his eyes would never fail to make your heart beat three times faster and your smile to almost split your face in half. He is your everything and you would spoil him just like he spoils you. He deserves it.

You know he will keep the old jacket as well. It’s still in rather good condition and would just need a little bit more care. But, and you admit that this might sound a bit selfish, you don’t want him to get rid of his little belly. It’s cute and soft and you love to put your head on it. You adore his laughs when you would blow raspberries on it and his shivers while letting your fingertips gently glide over the soft skin. It’s a sign of him finally getting the quiet life he deserves.

So you go back to that shop and buy the jacket. You don’t care about the price, all you can think about is the smile he would try to suppress at your stubbornness and the knowledge that he would be happy about the present, even if he won’t say it. But you knew. Because he would show you instead of saying it.

Around 15 minutes later you walk back down the street, looking around to see where he is. Javi stands in front of a Chinese restaurant a bit further down the street. You make your way over to him and then stand right in front of him, causing him to smile down at you before he gently kisses your lips. You hum and your smile widens.

“Got what you were looking for, mi amor?” He looks down at the bag in your hand and frowns.

“That doesn’t sound like a toy store. Hm, weird.” He stares at the bag and his brain rattles. The name, he had read it somewhere today.

When his brain finally finds the answer, he looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Tell me you didn’t.”

“I did” you say, softly cupping his cheek with one hand.

His sighs and looks down at the ground.

“It’s too expensive. I don’t de-“ You press a finger to his lips, silencing him.

“Baby, you deserve the world. You went through hell and back. And you still managed to spoil me and give me everything you had. You gave and continue to give me the world and under no circumstances will I ever let you be selfless again.” You gently kiss his lips and he closes his eyes.

“You didn’t have to…” he says and then opens his eyes again to look at you. They glisten with unshed tears.

“But I wanted to. I know Christmas is not about money and tons of presents. The past Christmases have all been wonderful still, because I had them with you. We could live in a shack, with no money whatsoever. No tree, no presents, nothing. And it’d still be the best Christmas because I’d have you. Because I know you love me as much as I love you. That’s more than I could ever ask for. But I want to gift you things. Because it brings me joy when you open them and you look at me like I’m an angel sent from heaven” you whisper against his lips.

“That’s because you are” he whispers back, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. You giggle softly.

He presses his forehead against yours, nuzzling your nose with his.

“I’m grateful for you. I know you know that, but I want you to hear it too. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. Without you I wouldn’t be the man I am today. And I will be forever grateful for your gentleness, your patience and your love. You are an angel sent from above. And whatever greater power there is, they sent you to rescue me. And you did just that.”

Tears fill your eyes and you gently caress his cheek.

“We rescued each other, mi alma.” You say before pressing your lips to his.

-------------------------------------------

mi amor = my love

mi alma = my soul

As always, lemme know what you think, lovelies! ❤️

@absurdthirst​

[keanureevesisbae]

The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Chapter 5

Summary: After a short two day break, Adelaide finally comes back to the cottage. During their next challenge however, things don’t go to plan. 

Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)

Wordcount: 7.9k (I know, this is a lot, but I don’t know what happened to me

Warnings: Descriptions of a haunted house and what can be found in them.

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

I’ve been here in Italy for a week and a half now, but I have to take a small break, because the I had to travel to Switzerland. It was only for two days, to sign some papers and meet up with the director. The filming process isn’t starting for three more months, but it’s nice to know a bit more about it and to finally see the director in real life.

Plus it felt like I finally had time to breath, when I’m not being surrounded by camera’s. Henry and I prerecorded our challenges, so the schedule isn’t messed up.

Two days ago, the second episode aired and I actually liked the way people write about us and me. For once I’m not the ditz, but I’m the daredevil and actually quite smart.

I’m in the back of a taxi, as the driver soars over the roads. Thankfully he can’t hear me because of the plastic that separates us and from the looks of it, he doesn’t want to talk to me. That’s a good thing, because I see my dad wants to FaceTime me. ‘Hi,’ I say when I pick up.

Ever since I have been making a lot of money, he started to look even better and better. Not because I’m paying for his botox, but because he finally can relax. Years of overworking himself, stressing over me and my mom, it took a toll on him. Though he still works hard to make sure my mom is happy, it’s nothing compared to what he had to do.

The smile on my father’s face when he sees me is priceless. Even when I was younger, his entire face would light up when he saw me. I’m happy to know that I still have that effect on my dad, even when there is an ocean in between us and we’re on FaceTime. ‘You look so pretty,’ is the first thing he tells me.

He is an absolute sweetheart. ‘Thank you.’

‘Where are you?’

‘I’m in a taxi, appa. I went to Switzerland for my new movie. Now I’m on my way back to Italy, to the cottage I’m staying at.’

‘Right,’ he says. He tilts his head. ‘You okay?’

‘I’m totally fine,’ I tell him. ‘Why? Don’t you like the show?’

He smiles, holding his phone very close to his face, as if he is closer to me then. ‘I do, but you look tired.’

I simply shrug. ‘I’m okay. How is eomma? She likes the show?’

Dad nods. ‘She is resting now, but she loves the show. Tell me, you like this Henry guy?’

Why am I blushing? What a way to give yourself away, Adelaide Park. ‘I like being around him, yes.’

‘Don’t lie,’ he says. ‘I taught you better than to lie to your appa. You like like him, right? I can tell, you know. Your smile when you’re with him tells me enough and you do that thing.’

My brows furrow together. ‘What thing?’

‘You touchy.’

‘That sounds perverted,’ I say. ‘And by the way, I’m not touchy.’

‘You are,’ dad tells me and this man is dead serious. ‘You touch his arm in your sleep. You always do that when you sleep, touch the other person. I remember when you were little girl, maybe five, and it was summer. It was very hot. Normally at that age, you always lay next to me, very close, because you were scared. But it was too hot, so you only placed your hand on my arm, because you couldn’t sleep without psychically knowing that I was there.’

I’m so grateful that there are no camera’s around, because this is one way to get exposed.

‘Also, you are happy around him. I haven’t seen you like that in a long time,’ he says with a smile.

I lean my head against the head rest. ‘I’m always happy,’ I tell him. ‘Not just because of him.’

He simply nods. ‘I see you don’t want to talk about it. That’s okay, I understand. You don’t want to talk about your love life with your appa.’

‘This is barely a love life,’ I chuckle.

‘It’s more than you have now.’

I purse my lips together, to not burst out into laughter. ‘Thanks for putting it into perspective.’

‘You take good care of yourself?’

‘Yes, dad.’

He nods. ‘I’m very proud of you,’ he says in all seriousness. ‘Only a daughter of mine eats fried spider like it’s nothing.’

I keep thinking about that challenge. It was disgusting, sure, but it’s true what I said: I can eat anything. One time, we didn’t have anything to eat and my dad was desperate. After spending an entire day at school, with only half an apple, I was starving and crying. It was pretty rough weather outside, so he couldn’t go on his usual round of finding food behind the restaurants, something he did when it was a situation like this. He went to the garden and found us some earthworms. My mom refused to eat it, after dad sort of made a meal out of it. She told him she wasn’t going to accept that we were that poor that we needed to eat earthworms.

What was next? He was going to snatch the snails out of the yard? He was going to catch a pigeon? Go fishing in the lake a few kilometers from our house?

They started fighting. My mom was mad at my dad, my dad thought she was being ungrateful. Just to stop them from fighting, I ate the fried earthworm and despite it being disgusting, I was too hungry and needed something in my stomach. It instantly stopped them from fighting and my dad was proud of me eating it. My mom even ate one, because she didn’t want me to think any less of her, she told me years later.

We talk for a bit and then he has to hang up, since he needs to do some groceries. I stare at the picture he send me yesterday. We don’t have many pictures of us from when I was younger, but he actually found the only one we have of the three of us. It was during Christmas. Both him and my mom were home when I was seven and the neighbor came over with her polaroid camera. She made a picture of us and during a clean up session, my dad found it again.

I remember what he texted with the picture: I loved you when you were born, I loved you when you were my little princess and I still love you now you are my hardworking princess. I’m so proud of you.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts, when I see that Henry wants to FaceTime. I answer the call and see his handsome face appear on my screen. ‘There you are,’ he says, a grin spread across his face. ‘Are you almost home?’

Home. I never had a place that I called home. It was always the people that made a place home. My parents were my home and since I moved out for my career in the acting industry, I have an apartment where I stay, but it’s never a home. I can’t seem to turn it into a home.

But staying in this cottage with Henry, felt homey, but I didn’t dare to call it a home, not wanting to come across weird or desperate.

However Henry does it now and it makes my heart skip a beat.

I look at the navigation screen and say: ‘Forty minutes.’

‘I miss you,’ he admits.

This shouldn’t make me blush like it does right now. I can’t stop my smile. ‘You miss me?’ I teasingly ask.

‘A whole lot, Addy. The place is so quiet without you here.’ He flashes me a dashing smile and sits outside on the doorstep, in the nice evening sun. ‘How was Switzerland?’

‘It was okay,’ I tell him. ‘The place where we are going to shoot is beautiful.’

‘Did the director have someone in mind for the love interest?’

I nod. ‘Yes, he is thinking about asking David Castañeda again. We also starred in another movie together and he liked our chemistry.’

When I told Henry about what the movie was about, he simply raised his eyebrows. It’s about a woman who goes to Switzerland, she is a journalist and needs to write a story about a mysterious man who owns way too many dogs and no one seems to understand him.

I don’t really need to explain how the rest of the movie will go, since it’s still a romantic comedy, thus pretty self explanatory what is going to happen.

‘But if David says no…?’

‘We’re back at square one,’ I say. ‘You sure I can’t pursue you?’

‘You, Addy, can pursue me any day.’ He winks at me, but I don’t understand the joke. ‘I think you wanted to persuade me, not pursue me.’

Oh shit, this is embarrassing. I’m tempted to open the car door while we’re going this fast, simply to throw myself out. ‘Yeah, I meant persuade. Sorry, English is hard.’

Henry smiles, but it disappears when he looks at me on his screen and he tilts his head in the process. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You have watery eyes.’

I clear my throat, before I blink away the tears in my eyes, because I indeed have watery eyes. ‘Really, it’s fine.’

‘Sure?’

Though I want to tell him a bit more about my private life, the words never roll out of my mouth. Like something is physically stopping me. However, now I say: ‘My dad called me. Just wanted to know how I was.’

Henry nods. ‘When was the last time you saw him?’

‘Think eight months ago. I just miss him a lot, just like I miss my mom.’

‘Understandably so.’ He leans against the doorframe, while he simply stares at his screen. ‘What did they think of the show?’

‘They liked it, but they like every single thing I’m in. They rewatch interviews, movies and episodes of Remembering High School when they miss me.’ I smile, thinking about the millions of videos that my dad send me of them rewatching episodes. He would film himself and say sweet things about how his daughter is the most talented one on the screen, or that his daughter is the prettiest. I know that he sends those videos to me, but he also sends them to friends. ‘I think I just realized now how much I miss them.’

‘That’s totally understandable,’ Henry says. ‘Are you going to visit them once this is over?’

‘I think so.’

Henry smiles. ‘Well, they can be proud of you and they should be. I am proud of you too,’ he says. ‘I mean, you totally put me to shame with that food challenge. I even got a message from Angela Bassett, saying how you are by far the coolest and that I’m a wimp.’

I chuckle. ‘That’s sweet and she is right.’

We talk for a while and those forty minutes fly by. The taxi stops in front of the cottage and Henry stands up with a bright smile. He always looks so happy to see me. The chauffeur hands me my bag and after I thanked him, he gets in again and drives off. Henry walks over to me and snakes his arms around my waist, lifting me up after he pulled me close to his body. ‘I’m happy to know that you aren’t going to leave me here again in this cottage,’ he says. ‘It felt like every second went by at least seven times.’

Sure, what he said was sweet, but I can’t seem to focus on those words, since this is the tightest hug someone has given me, apart from my parents of course. This is actually the first time he is hugging me. I press my nose in his shoulder, taking in his familiar scent and I close my eyes.

I’m really home now.

He lets go of me way too quickly. ‘I made you dinner.’

‘Really?’ I ask. ‘What did you make me?’

‘Pasta bolognese. When in Rome, right?’ He points a daring finger at me and says: ‘Don’t you dare say we aren’t in Rome.’

‘I wouldn’t dare,’ I chuckle. He holds out his hand and I give him my bag, before we walk into the cottage. During dinner, I tell him more about the movie and how beautiful the little town was where we’re going to film.

‘Isn’t it tiring, though?’ Henry asks. ‘To constantly play in romantic comedies?’

He asked me this before, but I didn’t know him that well to answer truthfully. Now I do know him well enough, to at least be sort of honest, without sounding like an ungrateful bitch. I simply shrug. ‘Sometimes I wished I would get other offers, but I guess I just have the face for romantic comedies.’

‘What kind of genre would you like to play in?’

‘Like a thriller or an action movie,’ I say. ‘More serious, you know? Maybe even Lara Croft one day. That would be amazing.’

‘You would nail Lara Croft,’ he says. ‘I feel like you have a lot of potential to play in tons of different movies. You would do great in a drama too, but a thriller is something I would like you to star in. Really different from what you do now.’

‘Don’t you ever want to play in a romantic comedy or something really serious?’ I ask him. ‘A drama for example?’

‘I would like to try it out one day,’ he says.

‘I think you would be great in a romantic comedy. You have that charm that women fall for.’

Henry cocks an eyebrow. ‘A charm you say?’

‘Yeah, exactly.’ I smile at him, stirring through my pasta. ‘What is a role you really want to portray one day? I mean, you already played Superman, that was pretty awesome.’

He nods. ‘Maybe James Bond one day.’

‘Why would you want to do that?’

‘I mean… It’s James Bond. That’s almost every men’s dream.’ Henry takes a sip of his water, as he clearly is studying my face. ‘Why? Don’t you like James Bond?’

I shake my head. ‘My mom hated the movies with a passion when I was growing up. It’s kind of sexist, really. I feel like, if you should ever play a movie with something like that, you should look into a movie where they create a whole new legendary character. Just like Keanu Reeves is the start of a John Wick legacy, you could be the start of something else.’ I smile at him, before adding: ‘You deserve better than to portray James Bond, Henry.’

He plays with his food for a second, before he looks at me again. ‘You think so?’

I nod. ‘Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you.’

Henry smiles. ‘Well, I’ll consider it.’

After we finish our dinner, I take a shower and get dressed in my pajamas. Despite the fact that I only drove back to the cottage today from Switzerland, I am really tired. Before I would go to bed early, simply to avoid falling in sleep in front of him, but now we usually get in bed together. We talk about tons of stuff before we actually fall asleep, still with the wall of pillows between us.

My mind is nearly in Dreamland already. I turn on my side and wrap my leg and arm around the pillows, my fingertips accidentally caressing his soft skin. ‘You don’t mind me doing this?’ I groggily whisper, still remembering my dad’s words that I’m apparently doing that thing.

‘I don’t,’ Henry says. ‘I think it’s sweet.’

I open my eyes for a brief second and I see him already looking at me, a smile toying on his face.

‘Go to sleep, Addy. Tomorrow you and I go swimming in the morning, remember?’

‘Oh right,’ I yawn, closing my eyes again. Somehow my hand finds his and I hesitate for a second. Should I pull my hand back or just leave it here? Thankfully I don’t have to think about that, because Henry wraps his fingers through mine and whispers: ‘Good night, Adelaide.’

‘Good night,’ I mumble, slowly drifting off to sleep.

◎ ◎ ◎

The next morning, I’m back in the insanely cold pool again with Henry. We’ve done this two times before now, but I still don’t trust myself enough to do something alone in the water. Even if it’s just holding the edge, as I’m sort of swimming by myself, Henry close by. I know that even if I do that, he wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

‘No, no, no,’ I quickly say, when he suggests that same idea, for the second time this morning. ‘Don’t let go of me, please.’

‘Addy, have I ever let go of you, when you didn’t want me to?’ he asks me. He decides to answer his own question. ‘No, I have never done that, so I’m not going to do that now. I’m just going to remove one hand from your waist to hold your hand, okay?’

‘No,’ I whine.

Henry starts to chuckle. ‘What’s up with you today?’ he asks. ‘You’re shaking. Is the water that cold or are you scared?’

‘I’m scared,’ I admit. ‘I know that I have to do it myself one day and at least try a bit alone, but not today. Please.’

‘Okay, not today,’ he assures me. ‘You seem a bit tense. Is everything okay?’

I sigh. ‘I just got a text from my dad this morning,’ I whisper, but loud enough for him to hear it, maybe not loud enough for the “hidden” camera’s that are stationed in the garden to pick up. ‘It’s just that my mom has a cold and that always worries me.’

‘Why?’ he asks, as he stops walking in the water.

I don’t want to tell him, but I know that I eventually will. My arms are wrapped around his shoulders, while his fingers are circling on my skin. It’s such a small, yet caring gesture from his side. ‘My mom is paralyzed from the waist down,’ I tell him. ‘But… She… After she got paralyzed, she never got back to her old health, if that makes sense. She is very prone to colds and a simply cold can turn into a nasty flu and that can result into her needing to go to the hospital. She ended up in the emergency room a few times and each time I wasn’t home. My dad always tells me not to worry about her, just like my mom tells me not to worry, but it’s hard. I worry a lot about them all the time, especially when she’s sick.’

Henry doesn’t say anything, he simply studies my face. ‘I had no idea,’ he tells me. ‘Come here.’ He pulls me towards his body and I nuzzle my face in his neck. ‘I’m so sorry, Addy. I understand you worry a lot about them, but… I just have to ask: why don’t you tone it down with the movies, so you can be with them?’

I pull back and say: ‘Because… I want to provide for them.’

‘Why?’ His blue eyes almost look innocent. I have to hold myself in, not to brush the wet curls out of his face, not to press my nose against his cheek, to kiss his jaw, feeling the short hairs puncture my lips. I can’t stop myself falling in love with him. He is everything that I was apparently looking for in a man. He is kind, he is patient and he is caring. He knows how to cook, he can read me like the back of his hand and yesterday, the way he held my hand when I went to sleep, is making me feel all sorts of things.

But there is one thing that I know: if he ever becomes a bigger part of my life, he should know more about me. I have been dodging it for too long now, but I should tell him. And even if we don’t become an item, I know that we will end up as friends. I know that after the Celebrity Project ends, I don’t ever want him out of my life again.

‘When I grew up, we were very poor,’ I say. ‘Like, my dad had to work long hours in a factory, my mom became a live in nanny and I had to raise myself. My dad barely ate after a long day of work, so mom and I could have most of it, when my mom would be home to eat it. I went to one of the only schools that was close by and was free. It wasn’t a great school, I don’t even think my teachers remember me at all. We couldn’t afford testing for me, something that my parents didn’t even know about, because they couldn’t miss a day at their jobs and I did my own parent teacher meetings.’

‘Geez, Adelaide,’ he says. ‘I’m so sorry.’

I clear my throat, because I don’t want to cry. ‘When I was nineteen, I was working at a diner, to help meet ends back at home, since I couldn’t go to college, my mom was hit by a car and left paralyzed. The medical bills were out of the roof and she needed physical therapy, but we couldn’t afford it. And that’s the whole reason I started acting in ‘Remembering High School’. I had zero acting experience, but I needed the money. After I made that money and my year on the show was up, I got offered two different movies. A romantic comedy or a thriller, but from the looks of it, the romantic comedy would definitely make more. Thankfully I chose that movie, because the thriller was a big flop. Every penny I earned from that movie and a few after that, went to my parents, for their bills.’

Henry nods and removes his hand from my waist, so he can wipe the tears of my cheeks.  Not that it helps, since his hand is still wet from the water. ‘You are amazing,’ he says. ‘I think you are by far the most amazing woman on this earth. Do you still do that? Give your money to your parents?’

I nod. ‘I don’t really know what I should do with it and my parents worked so hard for me. This is my way of thanking them.’

Henry pulls me closer to him, his arms around my body and I let out a tiny sob that I was holding in, when I bury my face in his strong shoulder. ‘It’s okay,’ he whispers. ‘If you want to go home, you just go home, okay? I totally understand. Your family is more important than this show.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.’

‘No, no, no, don’t say something like that. I understand. It’s very personal and this isn’t something that you just tell people. You are amazing, Addy, please remember that, okay?’

I nod, before slowly pulling back, so I can look at him again. Henry is smiling. ‘What?’ I ask.

‘You just keep on surprising,’ he says. ‘And in these days that I’m spending time with you, I’ve gotten to know you in a way that I never thought would be possible. Angela spoke so highly of you, though she barely knew you. Now I know you quite well and I can’t speak anything but highly of you.’

I let out a nervous chuckle. ‘You don’t have to.’

‘But I will anyways,’ he smiles. ‘Let’s get out of the pool now, you are freezing.’ We go to the edge and when I climbed out, I grab my towel and wrap it around me. Henry’s perfectly shaped body, with the right hip-shoulder ratio… I can’t help but look.

‘Henry,’ I say, causing him to look up. ‘Thank you.’

He chuckles. ‘Not a single problem, Adelaide.’

◎ ◎ ◎

Dad: No need to worry. Eomma will make it, it’s a tiny flu.

Adelaide: Sure?

Dad: More than sure. Enjoy your time.

Dad: I love you 😘

Adelaide: I love you too 😘

I keep thinking about my dad’s texts. I mean, he tells me that it will be alright and I should believe him. Back in the day, he was always right and that shouldn’t change now.

After our little swimming adventure, Henry and I got ready for the day and now we’re standing in front of a haunted house, waiting for the host of today to get ready. What exactly the challenge is for today, I don’t know, but I’m not looking forward to it at all.

The rest on the other hand seem to be totally fine. Henry places both of his hands on my shoulders and I look back, placing the top of my head against his chest. Even upside down, he is beautiful looking. I bet I look like a moron. ‘Are you okay?’ he quietly asks.

‘I’m fine.’ Thankfully over the course of the years, I have become a better liar, which I think is a skill thanks to my acting career. I have always been a master at hiding my emotions, but when people get closer to me (just my parents, but nowadays Henry too), it’s harder, because they see right through me.

And right now, I’m not fine. My mom is sick and I don’t know how she is doing as we speak. We have to go through the haunted house and I’m afraid that they are going to make us go individually. I really want to go with Henry, because then I can just hop on his back, bury my face in his neck and not look.

However, this show is the stupidest thing I’ve ever participated in, because we have to go through the haunted house all by ourselves, while even doing some challenges while we’re inside.

My heart is racing and I can’t even look at the big screen outside of the house, without jumping. Henry is still standing behind me, with his hands still on my shoulders, his thumbs pressing into the tight muscles to make them less tense. ‘Relax,’ he whispers, when someone else is going inside. ‘You’re going to be fine.’

But I can’t believe him. I’m not going to be fine. Justin screams his lungs out when someone pops up in front of him, as he is trying to solve a Rubik’s cube. Jennifer is hiding in a corner, while she is singing one of her own songs. And when it’s Henry’s turn, he has to solve a sudoku, but he jumps at every little sound and that is really not easing my mind. If a man like him, who nearly tripped over his own feet because I moved the fried tarantula in his face, screams like this when he hears water drip on the floor, how the hell am I supposed to do this?

After watching everyone else go, it’s time for me. I feel like my petite frame reminds them of a kindergartner, because they all wish me extra good luck. Jennifer even pulls me into a motherly hug and whispers that I’ve got this.

But do I have it in me to finish this?

I push open the door and I step into the house of horrors. I could eat the most disgusting looking snacks and people called me a daredevil. I can manage this. This isn’t that terrifying. It’s just fake, it’s like acting.

Only this set looks scary as hell and there is no one out here to say cut.

The lights start to flicker, something they didn’t do before. How am I supposed to read and answer eventual questions if I have to do that? I take a step forward, but my heart is pounding so loud, that my eardrums hurt.

The steps are minuscule, but at least I’m taking steps forward. Every door, every corner, every closed window… It makes me hesitant, but so far, nothing has happened. Maybe the actors that work here feel sorry for me.

I could crawl over the floor, I think to myself. Maybe that would be—

Something falls down from the ceiling and bounces on the floor. I jump backwards, letting out a scream that is more a high whistle note. When I finally can open my eyes again, I notice it’s a head and just a head. ‘It’s fake,’ I tell myself out loud. ‘It’s fake.

But then the head starts to scream, causing me to scream and a tiny sob escapes my lips. No, no, no, this can’t be happening.

I quickly jump over it and hurry myself through the rest of the hall.

Because I’m simply just walking and not paying attention, I bump into a wall and I go left, but someone with a fucking knife comes out of the door and I stumble backwards. Thankfully this person keeps standing in the doorframe and I crawl past them, but he or she keeps standing in the doorway, not attacking me. ‘Thank you,’ I squeak, my throat tightening, almost like someone is physically choking me.

Okay, I managed this and I see a clipboard with some questions on a table. I press my back against the wall, so I can see everyone.

What is the capital of Russia? Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, I think to myself. If these are the questions, I’m out of here within a minute.

I hear footsteps and the light that was flickering two seconds ago, is completely out. It’s dark. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

I can’t see anything, but I hear screams and dark voices. I try to catch my breath, when the light come back on and I’m surrounded by a bloody nurse, a creepy clown and oh my, is that not one, but three zombies? They are really close to me and I can’t help up but scream bloody murder, as I hide my face behind the clipboard. ‘No, go away, go away!’

Is that a fucking chainsaw?

I open my eyes for a second, only to see that someone who looks like Chucky is really close now with a chainsaw. This doesn’t seem fake anymore. This seems way too real and my brain is going crazy. What is happening? Am I dying?

I start to cough, as the tears run over my cheeks. ‘No, stop, please!’

I hear something, but the pounding of my heart is too hard for me to hear what is happening. All I can do is cry, shake and cough as the tears nearly make me choke.

‘Addy, I’m here,’ I hear a voice say, but I keep hiding my face in my face, kicking my feet and I hit something. ‘Ouch, no, no, it’s me, Henry. Don’t worry, it’s all over.’

I peek through my fingers, to see the lights are on and all the scary people that cornered me, are gone. The only one I see now, is Henry. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes hurt from crying. I try to say something, but my breathing is all over the place.

Henry holds my hands and places one on my own chest and the other on his. ‘Try to breath with me, Adelaide,’ he says to me. ‘Now breath in deeply.’ He takes a deep breath, holds it for a second, before slowly breathing out. I try to copy him, but my breathing is too erratic. It takes at least ten times before I’m finally sort of managing. ‘Very good,’ he says in a soft tone. ‘Very good.’

‘Is it over?’ I whimper.

Henry nods, holding my hand tightly in his. ‘It’s all over. I’m so sorry that this happened to you and I’m sorry I didn’t come in here way sooner. I should’ve noticed that this was too much.’

‘Did we lose?’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ he says sternly. ‘You shouldn’t worry about that.’ Henry stands up and pulls me with him, but my legs feel like jello and simply give out, because of all the adrenaline that is breaking down. I cling onto his shirt, as he holds me up by my waist.

‘I can’t anymore,’ I cry, as I bury my face into his shirt, not caring about wiping my tears on the fabric. ‘I’m so scared.’

‘I know,’ he sighs. ‘Fuck, I know.’ He hoists me up in his arms, guiding me into wrapping my legs around his waist. ‘Don’t look,’ he tells me.

I don’t even want to look at this awful, awful place anymore, so I bury my face into his neck, as he walks out of the haunted house. He places me on the soft grass and he runs his fingers through my disheveled hair. ‘Addy, listen to me,’ he says, ‘you’re breathing is good, but you need to make sure that it stays like this okay?’

I simply nod. ‘I’m just so embarrassed.’

‘There is absolutely no need to be embarrassed,’ he tells me. ‘You can stop with this program if you want. I mean, I totally understand that you want to quit.’

‘I think I just want tomorrow off,’ I whisper. ‘And do nothing.’

‘I understand,’ he says. ‘You want to go home?’

Home. ‘As long as you are there.’

Henry smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘I’m not leaving you, Addy. Not after this.’

◎ ◎ ◎

When Henry and I are home, I feel disgusting. I could actually use a shower, but I’m too afraid of standing in the shower cabin by myself and I don’t want to shower with Henry (our friendship is too fragile for that), so a simple washing cloth should do the trick.

The producers of the Celebrity Project gave me the next day off and depending on how I feel after tomorrow, I will decide whether or not I’m staying here. I don’t want to give up and I think I can overcome this.

Henry sits next to me on the couch, as we both stare at the television. We have been watching Mamma Mia, simply because of the ABBA songs and the story line is predictable and predictability is exactly what I need right now. ‘You want something to drink?’ he asks me, when the credits are rolling on the screen.

I shake my head. ‘No, thank you.’

‘How are you feeling?’

‘I don’t know,’ I whisper.

‘Do you want to go to bed?’ he suggests. ‘We could do that. I bet you are tired.’

I am tired and the fact that he said that we could do that, must indicate that he is going to stay with me, right? I simply nod and he says he is going to close off. To be alone is not what I want right now, so I follow him around the cottage like a puppy.

When we’re in bed, I ask him if he wants to leave the light on his nightstand on. I still sit up straight in bed, my arms wrapped around my knees. Henry places a hand on my back.

‘I’m scared,’ I whisper, as I feel my heart pounding painfully in my chest.

He sighs deeply. ‘I know. Is there anything I can do for you?’

I turn my head to the side, so I can look at him. ‘Can… Can you… Can you hold me, please?’ Tears burn in my eyes. ‘I’m so scared, Henry.’

He throws the pillows from the bed, before I crawl into his inviting arms. I place my head on his chest, my arm wrapped around his waist. ‘Breath, Addy,’ he whispers. ‘It’s all okay now, I’m right here with you. Nothing can happen to you now.’

However, the tears come again and they aren’t stopping. His large hand cups my cheek, his thumb caressing the skin right underneath my eye. He lets me cry, even though I have been crying a lot for the past few hours.

I force myself to stop, because I’m out of breath and I’m just too tired to cry anymore. Henry pulls me closer to his broad and heavy frame.

‘There, there,’ he says in a soft tone. ‘You are all okay now.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper.

‘No need to be sorry, Addy. You just try and go to sleep, because you are really tired and after this day… You should just sleep, okay?’

During the night, I wake up a few times, but every single time I’m closely tugged into Henry’s protective arms. Sometimes he is behind me, his face buried in my neck or my hair, our hands linked. Sometimes I have my head on his shoulder and then my face is nuzzled in his neck. But every time I wake up, he is still awake. ‘Go back to sleep,’ he whispers, his fingers drawing soothing circles on my skin.

And as if his voice is working like hypnosis, I drift off right back to sleep.

◎ ◎ ◎

The next day, Henry has been nothing but a sweetheart to me and halfway through the day, I feel a whole lot better and decide to stay here and finish the competition. I don’t care that we are last and that we are probably going to lose anyways.

The two of us decide to take a walk through a large orchard, with trees filled with apples and oranges. We end up on a lovely field and I plop down in the grass. The sun is burning on my skin, but I chose a spot near a tree, so we can alternate between sitting in the sun and the shadows.

Henry and I lean against the tree when the sun is too hot for us to sit in, as we stare ahead of us. ‘You know,’ he says, ‘I was wondering something.’

‘Tell me.’

‘You kept your personal life very private over the course of the years. Why was that?’

‘I thought it wasn’t anyones business.’ I look to the side and chuckle. ‘That’s the I try to be really tough-answer, but the truth is: I was embarrassed. No one at school knew about my situation at home and I certainly didn’t want the entire world to know.’

‘You didn’t have any friends?’

I shake my head. ‘Yet again: I was too embarrassed to share this with anyone. Besides, I was the weird girl who wore the same clothes for three days on end.’

‘Kids can be cruel,’ he says, referring to his own past.

I wrap my arms around his strong one, pressing my cheek against his bicep. ‘They can.’

‘Can I ask something else?’

‘You can.’

‘Have you ever dated?’

I place my chin on his arm, so I can actually look at him again. ‘No, I have never.’

‘You have played alongside quite a few single guys. Was there not a spark in real life?’

‘Goodness gracious, Henry, you sound like you’re in a retirement home. A spark in real life? Really?’

He chuckles. ‘You get what I’m saying.’

‘I do,’ I say with a smile. ‘But to answer your question, no, there wasn’t. I mean, I remain in contact with some of them and we’re still friendly, but I never let them in. Not like how I’m with you.’ I place my cheek against his bicep again, but one of my hands slides down his arm. He intertwines his fingers with mine and his thumb draws soft figures on my skin.

Henry nods. ‘You know,’ he says, ‘you are really one of a kind.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you do something that no one else does. You haven’t mentioned my appearance once since we are here.’

‘Really?’ I ask frowning. ‘I thought about your appearance quite a few times.’

He smiles. ‘But you never voiced it. You know, it’s flattering that people comment about my appearance, but you don’t do that. You comment about my personality traits and I don’t want to become all sappy, but… It means a lot.’

‘You are sappy,’ I mumble, causing him to laugh. ‘But since we are being sappy with one another, I should tell you that… You are one of a kind too. You give me a chance. I remember one of the first times I was having issues with speaking and you didn’t fill in the rest. You just waited till I could finish my sentence. That means… a lot. Also, Henry, you… You ran into the haunted house for me.’

‘How…’

‘I saw the footage,’ I say with a smile, remembering what I saw this morning.

He was standing outside, his arms crossed in front of his chest, a deep frown between his brows. ‘Can you just leave the lights on?’ he asked. ‘Flickering lights make it harder for Adelaide to concentrate.’

But there was no response. He shook his head, clenched his jaw and eventually he simply walked away. He went in the haunted house, pressed the “Stop” button, before rushing towards me, pulling some of the actors away. ‘It’s over,’ he told them. ‘Get the fuck out of here.’

After seeing the footage, it made my heart swell like crazy. ‘Quite romantic, really,’ I chuckle.

He laughs, but it sounds more nervous this time. ‘Well… It was nothing.’

‘It meant the world to me,’ I retort. And because of that, I think I’m even more in love with you than I already was. However it doesn’t leave my lips. I don’t want to scare him off.

‘This never happened to me before,’ Henry says. ‘Feeling about someone like this.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like how I feel about you.’ He squeezes my hand, before continuing by saying: ‘I care so much about you, Adelaide. Before you told me about your life, after you told me about your life. Even if we don’t win this contest, I did win something else. I won the privilege to get to know you.’

‘You care for me,’ I repeat, letting those words process for a bit. But that’s not falling in love with me.

‘And,’ he continues, ‘I’m slowly falling for you too.’

I resit, so I don’t strain my neck when I look at him. ‘What?’

He holds my hand tightly in his, as if he is afraid that I might slip away. ‘I’m falling in love with you, Adelaide Park.’

I bite my lip. ‘You are?’

‘I am,’ he confirms. ‘Even if we don’t win this show, I want to figure out how we can manage after this. Maybe you can even tone it down with your movies.’

I chuckle, hiding my face in my hand. ‘Maybe I can do that.’ I look at our linked hands and I whisper: ‘I’m falling love with you too, Henry Cavill.’

‘You are?’ he asks with a smile. ‘Lucky me.’

We don’t say anything. I just look into his eyes, trying to figure out what he is thinking. I can see him staring at my lips, before he moistens his own. ‘When I kiss you,’ he says, ‘there is one problem. I fear that I can’t stop then, but I also want us to remain a little secret. For time being of course.’

I nod. ‘Then you don’t kiss me.’

‘But I want to,’ he chuckles.

‘You have to pick one of the options.’

‘What do you want?’

‘I mean…’ I purse my lips together. ‘I wouldn’t mind if we kissed.’

Henry pulls me closer by my hand. I lose a bit of my balance, so I fall against his chest. ‘Careful now, Addy,’ he chuckles. ‘We don’t want any injuries, now do we?’

‘Shut up.’ I finally place my hand on his cheek and as my thumb is slowly caressing his soft skin, I accidentally graze over his velvety lips. He turns his head, to kiss the palm of my hand.

‘Can I kiss you?’ he asks against my skin, as he places his hand on mine, so he can press another, but more firm kiss on the inside of my hand. ‘You can say no.’

‘I want to kiss you,’ I hoarsely whisper. ‘Badly so.’

‘Badly so,’ he repeats with a self fulfilled grin on his face. He leans in closer to me and teasingly kisses my cheek, the tip of my nose and even my forehead. ‘Where?’ he whispers. ‘Where do you want me to kiss you?’

‘Right here,’ I whisper, before pressing my lips on his. They fit perfectly on each other. I cradle his face in my hands, as he pulls me closer to his body, though my legs are in the way. Without even thinking about it, I sit on his lap, causing him to smile underneath the kiss.

‘Badly so it was,’ he mumbles against my lips, his hands slipping underneath my shirt. He opens his mouth and carefully his tongue invades my mouth. I whimper, as his fingers dig into my back, his thumbs softly circling my stomach.

How many on screen kisses have I done?

Billions.

How many felt like this?

None.

I pull back, so I can catch my breath, but he is not giving me a break. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, pressing wet kisses on my delicate skin. ‘Can we stay here forever?’ he asks against my collarbone. ‘I don’t want to go back to the camera’s.’

‘Me neither,’ I whisper. I place my pointer finger underneath his chin, lifting his face. ‘How are we going to do this back at the cottage?’

‘Well,’ he chuckles, ‘we are already behaving like a cute couple, so we don’t have to change a lot about that. Just have to hold back the kisses.’

My fingers run through his curls, messing them up a little, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Henry simply smiles at me. ‘I think we can manage that,’ I say, smiling back at him.

‘Can I have another kiss?’ he asks.

‘You can,’ I whisper, before he captures my lips again. This kiss is even more intense and my fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt, when we hear someone clear their throat. We look up, to see a little boy staring at us, while his grandmother is screaming something in the back. ‘Maybe we should find another place,’ I suggest, stepping off his lap.

‘Yeah,’ Henry says, ‘maybe we should.’

◎ ◎ ◎

Adelaide: You were right.

Adelaide: I like Henry a lot

Dad: I’m always right

Adelaide: And I kissed him.

Dad: You didn’t?

Adelaide: I did, but please keep this a secret.

Dad: I can tell your eomma right?

Adelaide: Yes you can

Adelaide: I love you 😘

Dad: I love you too, future mrs. Cavill

Adelaide: Please, don’t.

◎ ◎ ◎

Taglist: @thelastsock​ // @jolly-polly​ // @henrythickcavill​ // @maan24​ // @diegos-butt​ / @agniavateira​ // @onlyhenrys​ // @turkish276​ //