#thank u all again for sticking with me and sorry for the wait xxx

[anachilles]

chapt 6; whiskey neat, coffee black 🥃

[18:09] Buck 🥃: Are you okay, John? [18:12] You: So I was special, then. Good to know. [18:13] Buck 🥃: John. [18:14] You: Mild concussion, but nothing to worry about, really. The most anti-climactic, uninspired of head trauma events. [18:14] Buck 🥃: Entirely preferable to a more ‘climactic’ or ‘inspired’ head trauma. If any kind of head trauma at all is ‘preferable’. [18:14] Buck 🥃: I’m glad to hear that, though. That you’re okay. [18:16] You: Awwww, you’re sweet. Thank-you. [18:16] You: Doubly so, for the tender, loving Nurse Nightingale routine earlier as well. The recovery positioning could use some work, but hey. Just my expert opinion. [18:20] Buck 🥃: Was that the good news, or the ‘less than good news’? [18:21] You: Oh, no, that was definitely the good news. [18:23] You: I’m also being forced to take a couple days off work, so you gave me your number to bother you with at exactly the right time.

-> read here on AO3! <-

tag list:

@alienoresimagines ||

@joeyalohadream ||

@imasexypotato ||

@clevenhq ||

@neverfellforyou ||

@buckyclevens ||

@coastiewife465 ||

@shoequeeny ||

@onyxsboxes ||

@thru00thepages22 ||

@doctorstrangeherself

@shprka

@carnevol

[angelsdean]

hi, love your dean studies! i haven't read them all yet (gonna tho) those are so interesting and funny and poignant. love you for that! thank you!

question: have you studied deans prejudice toward new ppl whose are forced to him by someone else but himself? cause they are family or blood or smt. like samuel or adam or jack or even cas (or specially cas). imo dean needs to make his own mind about new ppl like if they are worthy to be family/friends with. cause, like u have said, dean doesn't like to leave anyone who he loves, so you have to earn his love, cause its for ever.

and how in the beginning he wants to be "family again" with sam and john cause he loves them and they know him. and not wanna make new friends cause its exhausting.

random ppl are okay cause he knows hes not gonna see them ever again. thats different and easy to deal with. and being a class clown helps alot.

im sorry, my english is little rusty, but hopefully u get what i mean. this feature of deans is so close to me, im exactly like that. not buying a pig in a poke. wanna study them first :)

love to hear your notions about this matter some day. xxx

hiii ! thank you, i'm glad to hear you're enjoying my dean studies!

To answer your question, that's a really interesting angle and not one I've thought about much but it definitely makes sense that Dean would be more hesitant to let people in / warm up to them because it's an emotional investment. When he goes in, he goes ALL in. And it would be easier for him to keep people at arms length, especially at first when he's not sure if he can trust them or if they'll even stick around long enough to become a fixture in his life.

Though I'd say it is very hard for Dean not to get invested in people. He's naturally very caring and empathetic and he wants to help people and protect them and take them in under his wing. But I can definitely see what you're saying that he might wait a little, try to get a feel for someone, out of a way to protect himself. Because yeah, what happens if he gets invested and then they leave him? Oh those abandonment issues !!

Anyways, thanks for this message. Definitely something to think about.

[primasveraas-writing]

“(it’s not about deserve)" -Kylo Ren x Reader

Request: “Hey you! Can you write one imagine with Kylo where he doesn't now how to show affection to her and he is afraid to lose her because of that? Thank u ❣️❣️❣️” - @hlstead

Reader is gender-neutral. Thank you for waiting so very long!

WORD COUNT: 507

XXX

You kiss him and he reciprocates, wrapping his arms around you. A happy hum vibrates against his lips and you grin. Kylo drops your gaze when you part, but he stays close and thinks of kissing you again.

But he doesn’t, and he’s the first to pull away. Your hand lingers near his, but he doesn’t take it. Instead, silence permeates the room as you both settle down to sleep.

It’s a pattern, a familiar one. You initiate every kiss, every point of contact. You’re the first to smile at him, to compliment him, and he lags behind, only brave once you prod him forward.

Kylo lies awake, debating this. It’s not good enough- he loves you, he should shower you with affection, kiss every inch of your beautiful skin, and sing your praises. It’s what you deserve, to know all his love, and he’s inadequate at best when it comes to this.

Your breathing deepens, and Kylo turns to look at you. Stray hair falls across your forehead, framing your peaceful features. Your lips are slightly parted, hot air brushing against Kylo’s skin with every exhale.

“I love you,” he whispers, voice rumbling in the silence of your room. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t stir. Part of Kylo wants to wake you and beg for forgiveness, and the rest of him thinks he should get up and leave, abandoning you to a happier fate with a partner you deserve. It’s inevitable, anyway; one day you’ll realize Kylo isn’t enough and it’ll all be over.

His breath catches, the upset sticking in his throat and welling in his eyes. He shifts to swipe at his cheeks, and that’s when you wake, your voice groggy but urgent.

“What’s wrong?” Kylo doesn’t have the words. “Hey, it’s okay,” you murmur, sitting up so you can cup his face in your hands. “Breathe with me, alright?”

Kylo obeys but averts his eyes. His body is tense, his jaw set in a way you’ve come to know means frustration, and you stroke the back of his hand until he’s relaxed just a fraction.

“Tell me,” you say, and it’s a gentle demand. Kylo lets the silence prevail a moment longer, then:

“You’re going to leave. Because I don’t deserve you.”

A startled laugh escapes you, and Kylo bristles, but there's a deep sympathy in your eyes. You grasp his hand, squeezing tight.

"Why do you think that?"

"I'm not affectionate. I don't… I'm not ever going to be the one who's gentle and caring the way you are."

"I know," you say, and Kylo closes his eyes in defeat. "That's not why I love you."

He starts, finally looking up at you. "I don't-"

"There are a thousand ways to show me you love me. And you do. Just not with kisses and roses and petnames." You pause, letting your words sink in. "You do love me, right?"

"I do," Kylo replies instantly, then he relaxes, sagging against your shoulder. "I do love you."

"I know," you reply. "I love you too."

[pishufics]

study date(s)

"Bertholdt knows that he needs to start trying. It’s junior year, and he’d rather not stay stuck in the same class next year as a senior. If he fails the next test, he’s in some shit. So, he's going to ask you for help."

pairing - bertholdt hoover x reader

tags - high school au, fluff, humor, texting

warnings - none

author’s note -  this was just a one shot but i kept writing lol it kind of switches between you and bertholdt, but i don't directly say his thoughts, it's kind of like 2nd person omniscient if that's even a thing LOL

lmk how the texting reads, i'll change it if it's weird

reblogs and comments are appreciated ! mwah

ao3 

chapter 1 - two days

reinah: I swear if you don’t just ASK her

Do you want to be held back?

bertoto: relax okay i’ll do it :(

r: Okay, okay

Lmk how it goes

b: i never said i was asking today

Bertholdt sighs and locks his phone once he sees Reiner start to type a reply.

Bertholdt is struggling with English, which surprises him. He’s a good student in every other class, but the moment Mr. Ackermann starts talking, he finds himself dozing off, missing the lecture. Recently, though, he’s awake in class, but still not paying attention. All his focus is on you, who sat in the middle of the classroom while he sat in the back, due to his height (he didn’t really mind, though; better chance of not getting caught asleep).

One day, due to some miraculous occurrence, the short, stern teacher actually had the boy’s attention, but not for long.

“Does anyone have number three?” Mr. Ackermann asked. Bertholdt definitely didn’t. He hoped someone would raise their hand so the teacher wouldn’t resort to calling a random name.

To his relief, you did.

“I think what the author was trying to convey was…”

Bertholdt didn’t really get what you were saying, but he admired your intelligence. You knew the material and could explain it in detail, while he couldn’t even recall the book's name in question.

He started to admire more of your traits - he gazed as you would lightly, but briskly, tap your foot in frustration when you didn’t know an answer and smile at the way your face relaxed when you finally got it. Seeing your motivation in class kickstarted his.

Bertholdt knows that he needs to start trying. It’s junior year, and he’d rather not stay stuck in the same class next year as a senior. If he fails the next test, he’s in some shit.

So, he's going to ask you for help.

...Tomorrow.

-

“Girl, I don’t have any more fucking gum. I drove up to Costco, bought the value sized pack, and you somehow managed to chew all of it.” You say exasperatedly, shutting your locker.

Sasha pouts. “Are you sureeee? There’s prolly half a stick left in your front pocket…”

You swat her hand away. “There’s. Nothing. Left. I promise.” She continues to stare at your bag.

“Fuckin-” You mutter, reaching into your bag and pulling out a snack-size bag of Cheezits. They’re one of your favorite snacks, but you know you can’t win when it comes to Sasha and food. You reluctantly hand the bag to her.

“Thanks, y/n!” She smiles and tears open the bag.

“Yknow, you can be annoying as shit, Sasha.”

She winks at you and eats her stolen prize. You turn to leave and head to 3rd period. English.

Hm. You’re usually greeted by your other best friend around now-

“Yeoooo!!” Oh, there he is. Connie daps you up before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “What’s good?”

“I don’t really wanna go to 3rd," you answer. "Sasha stole my Cheezits."

“Does anyone really wanna go to any class? And that's your fault, you know you can't bring food without Sasha's fatass taking it,” Connie replies, and Sasha punches his shoulder.

“Okay, I know...have you started studying for the test?”

He blankly stares at you. Guess not. You have the same teacher, but different periods, so you can’t keep an eye on him.

“Nevermind. I’ll see y’all later.” You throw up a peace sign and head in the opposite direction.

It’s not like you’re bad at English, but you just don’t like school in general. You go to class to get your participation grade, then go home.

There might be another reason you tolerate 3rd period, though, and it isn’t the professor. (He is pretty fine, but he's an adult, so you don’t let your thoughts escalate).

-

Mr. Ackermann didn’t like assigning things online, so most of the work in this class was on paper, contrasting your other classes where everything was digital. Kind of annoying, but you’ve learned to deal with it.

You mainly use mechanical pencils because you hate the way wooden ones write, but one day, to your slight dismay, you forgot them at home. Just your luck.

There’s a container of pencils and a sharpener in the back of the classroom, so you stand up to go retrieve one and notice a tall boy asleep in a desk not too far back from yours.

Bertholdt Hoover.

You knew him, of course. You find it a little rude to not know your classmates' names; you’ve dealt with numerous “who?”s in previous years and don’t want to put anyone through that, so you make sure to pay attention during introductions.

You chuckle at sight. The class has barely even started, and the guy is already dozing. In an awkward position, at that. One of his long legs is across the other, cramped underneath the desk. His head was laying on his right arm with his left against his hair. You thought to wake him up, but he looked so peaceful, you couldn't bring yourself to do it, plus, it's not your business. Mr Ackermann somehow didn't notice either, so Bertholdt always had a good rest in 3rd period English.

Every time you walked into class, you checked to see what weird position he would be sleeping in. You found yourself looking forward to it- he looked kinda cute when he was sleeping- but he stopped one day. You were a little disappointed, but glad to know that he was starting to pay attention in class. You still glanced at him as you walked in- he's a pretty attractive guy. No harm in just looking...

-

You shrug your backpack off and sit at your desk, stretching your legs out a bit. The walk from your locker to this classroom was kind of far. You reach into your bag, get your mechanical pencil out, and wait for Mr Ackermann to pass out the first assignment.

Just then, you hear someone walk up to your desk, and you glance over.

‘Oh, it’s Bertholdt. I don’t think we’ve ever spoken.’ You feel your face heat up, wondering what he wanted from you.

“Hey, y/n…” He nervously starts.

“Hey. Need something?”

“Yeah, actually...about the upcoming test.”

You hum in curiosity. “What about it?”

He clears his throat. “I’m lowkey failing this class, and if I mess up this test, I’ll have to retake this class next year. Do you think you could, uh…”

Bertholdt inhales in an attempt to calm himself down. It doesn’t really work.

“Could you help me study?” Phew. He managed to get it out pretty well and made a mental note to give himself a pat on the back later. But he hasn’t fully succeeded yet; you still need to agree.

You weren't opposed to the idea. You kind of figured he would be struggling in class a bit since he used to sleep all the time. It’s alright with you, and you wouldn’t mind a potential new friend. Sasha and Connie were exhausting at times.

“Yeah, sure. When?” You pause. “Actually, just text me.” You hold out your hand, asking for his phone.

Bertholdt was practically shaking in his sneakers as he reached into his pocket and handed you his unlocked phone with the contacts app open. You actually agreed! And you were giving him your number! Reiner was going to be so proud, he smiled to himself.

As you type in your info, you appreciate the cleanliness of his phone. That shows you that he’s at least hygienic.

“Aight. Here you go,” you return his device. “See you later.” You smile.

Bertholdt can’t believe this is happening.

Mr Ackermann’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “Oi, Hoover. Sit down.”

Startled, he jumps back a bit at the sudden acknowledgement. He was focused on you and tuned everything else out.

“Sorry, sir.” Bertholdt gives you a quick grin and turns to go back to his desk. Once he sits, he looks down at the new contact:

y/n :)

xxx-xxx-xxxx

Bertholdt can’t help but smile. Just seeing your name and number on his screen made him giddy, and he thought that the smiley face you added was adorable.

His thoughts are interrupted yet again, but not by the teacher. He looks down at his phone, which just buzzed.

| Messages

reinah

Did you do it yet bruh

Good timing. Bertholdt taps on the notification and goes to type a reply, but decides to send him a screenshot of your contact…with your number scribbled out. Reiner was a flirt, and he didn’t want to risk anything.

r: YOOOOOOOOOO HOLY SHIT U ACTUALLY DID IT

Bertholdt rolls his eyes and puts his phone in his backpack. He was going to pay attention- for real - today. He didn't want to seem too clueless when you tutored him.

“Can anyone tell me what rhetorical strategy is being used here?” Mr. Ackermann asked.

Bertholdt certainly could not. But that was changing soon, with your help.

--

“Okaay, we got Ms. Tutor over here now,” Sasha smiles in between bites of a burger.

“Do you even know how to, like, teach, though?” Connie gives you a skeptical look.

“It prolly isn’t too hard. All I gotta do is help him study. If he needs help understanding a concept, I’ll just explain it,” you defend yourself. “We still have two weeks. Ion mind making flashcards or something.”

“You’re getting into it, huh?” Sasha laughs.

Your face heats in embarrassment. “Girl, you know it isn’t like that.”

“And why not? You’re always bitching about how lonely you are. High school isn’t gonna last forever…” she replies.

“I have no recollection of saying anything like that.” You glare. But she isn’t exactly wrong. You’d like to experience the “high school romance” you’ve heard so much about, and Bertholdt is pretty cute. It’s not like dating is a significant concern, though.

“I’m always here as an option, y/n,” Connie winks as he takes a sip of his soda.

“Hell nah.”

Across the cafeteria, Bertholdt is trying to eat a sandwich, but Reiner won’t leave him alone. He was right about Reiner being proud, but Bertholdt almost forgot how persistent the jock could get.

“I didn’t think you had the balls, dude. I was ready to see English 3 on your schedule again next year,” He grins, arm around his taller friend's shoulders.

“...Can I eat?” Bertholdt sighs and shrugs his friend away.

“Have you texted her yet? What day are you gonna hang out with her? You gonna bring her anything? Flowers or somethin’? Girls like that kinda stuff.”

Bertholdt didn’t really think that was true.

“First off, no, not yet. I need to see when I can actually go. Second, no, I am not bringing her anything. I didn’t say it was a date. She’s going to help me study.”

“Fine, man. At least try to seem more interesting, yknow, so she can like...be interested in you.”

“Are you saying I’m boring? Ouch,” He jokingly pouts and rolls his eyes at Reiner’s double usage of ‘interesting.’

“You said it, not me.”

“Okay, I don’t wanna hear that from you...if it came from Annie, then I’d believe it.” Bertholdt looks in the blonde’s direction. She took a bite from her burger, looked up from her phone, and shrugged.

“Damn, for real?” Bertholdt sinks. He didn’t think he was that dull. He did lots of interesting stuff, like…

Like…

Bertholdt sighs in defeat.

“It’s fine. Maybe y/n likes boring,” Bertholdt huffs, taking another bite from his sandwich.

“Yeah, okay, keep telling yourself that and see where it gets you…” Reiner mumbles.

“Come again?”

“Nothing, man…”

School's been over for an hour or two. You’re aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you feel a buzz, and glance towards the top of the screen.

| Messages

xxx-xxx-xxxx

hey

it’s bertholdt 😁

where should we meet up?

Your heart starts to beat a little faster. ‘Relax, girl… don't act like he's asking you out or something,’ you tell yourself.

y/n: hey!

how abt the library?

+  what day/ time works for you?

You add his number to your contacts as you wait for his response.

bertholdt :^)

is saturday at 3 okay?

y/n: yep

do you need a ride or anything?

b: no, but thank you

see you then ☺️

y/n: alrighty :)

You smile at his use of emojis, send what he requested, then swipe down on your screen to check the day (what? It's normal to forget sometimes.) Wednesday. Two days.

You feel like it would be awkward to study with Bertholdt considering you aren’t really friends, so you decide to text him a little more so it isn't too bad when the day arrives.

----

“See? That wasn’t so hard!” Reiner exclaims. “You could’ve tried to talk to her more, but it went good!”

“I think it would’ve been weird if I did say anything else. Best to leave it at that…” Bertholdt exclaims, trying to calm himself down. He had two days.

He wonders what he should do now. Study so he could impress you? Do something to make himself seem more interesting? What would he even do...?

Bertholdt taps back onto the conversation to reread it for the 6th time. Was there anything he could’ve said different? Should he try asking you someth-

Oh, wait-? You’re typing?

“Oh shit- Dude, she’s saying something else. What do I do?” He begins to panic. Did you suddenly decide he wasn’t worth your time? Were you cancelling?

y/n: sooo

how’s your day been?

Whaaaaaatttt?? You actually...care to ask?

Bertholdt stared at his phone in surprise.

“What’d she say? Cmon! Don’t just look, dude!”

“She...asked how my day’s been-”

“-You gotta reply now! You were on the chat when she said it, so she knows you’ve read it!” Reiner urges.

Shit. He doesn't have enough time to think of a good reply.

good, but better since i’m texting you 😉|

The hell? No, that’s weird. And too soon. He tries again...

pretty good, thanks!

kinda stressing over the test, haha

how’s your day going?

There we go. He twiddles his thumbs as he waits for your reply.

y/n :)

oh, dw, it’ll be fine !

my day was okay

sasha took my last bag of cheez its :(

b: ah, i'm sorry abt that :(

+ yeah, you're right

have you as my tutor :)

“Nice job man! That was...kinda flirty? You’ll get there!” Reiner ruffles his hair in encouragement, and Bertholdt shoos him away. He stares at his phone in anticipation. Was that too much?

----

i have you as my tutor :)

You lean your head on your pillow and feel your face heat up at the compliment ( was that a compliment?)

It’s not like you’re dumb, so he’s not wrong to think that. Your lips curl into a smile as you reread the message. But how do you reply? Should you compliment him back? You don’t really know.

if you’re saying i’m smart, thank you :))

hoping that wasn't sarcasm lol

You wait a minute, and he doesn’t reply, so you decide to ask another question.

is there anything specific you wanna focus on?

You cringe at the double texting, but hope that it doesn't make him think you're weird. You swipe away from the conversation and scroll on various apps as you wait.

b: ofc it wasn’t sarcasm, you're really smart, y/n!

i'm mainly struggling with rhetorical strategies and logical fallacies, but i could

use a general review too

if that's okay with you

You bury your almost overheating face into your pillow. Why is something like that getting you flustered, you wonder. You sit up, take a deep breath, and focus on the second part of his message. You're pretty good with what he needs work on, and a general review should be easy to put together.

y/n :) okay, we can focus on the first 2 on saturday

we can review the unit on other days

see you at school:)

At this point, you really don’t know how this conversation could go any further, so you ended it. Bertholdt returns your goodbye.

You exhale and sit up in your bed. Hopefully tutoring him won’t be too awkward now that you’ve spoken to him a bit, and there's still tomorrow at school to speak to him. You find yourself excited for the study date tutoring session, since you could get your homework done too.

"Two days," you smile.

[whumphoarder]

Who Needs Disney When You Have Russell Crowe?

Summary: When Peter’s ear infection gets a little out of hand, Tony and Morgan have slightly different ideas of how to help.

Word count: 1,874

Genre: Sickfic, domestic fluff, Whump Lite™

A/N: Thanks to @xxx-cat-xxx for beta-reading and ideas <3

Link to read on Ao3

Peter wakes to the sound of quiet whimpering.

It takes a few seconds for his groggy brain to register where he is, but the warm glow of the bunny-shaped night light on the opposite wall illuminating the Arendelle toy castle and the pile of stuffed animals on the floor gives it away. He’s in Morgan’s room. Morgan, who insisted on getting a bunk bed for her sixth birthday so that she and Peter could have sleepovers whenever he came to visit.

Morgan, who is clearly in the midst of a nightmare.

“Mo...” Peter whispers hoarsely. There are a few more quiet, pained whimpers. “Mo,” he tries again, louder. His left ear is throbbing and it’s ridiculously stuffy in this room—he’s actually sweating. Kicking the tangled bed covers off of himself, he lifts a hand to tap the wooden bed frame over his head. She stirs. “Morgan, wake u-up.” His voice cracks on the last word.

Morgan sits up in her bunk. “Yeah?” she asks drowsily. She leans over the edge of bed to look at him, strands of her long hair falling in her face. “What is it?”

She doesn’t seem particularly upset, which Peter finds strange. “Did… did you have a b-bad dream?” he asks.

In the dim light of the room, he can just make out her curious expression. “I don’t think so.” She swings her legs over the side of the bed and shimmies backwards down the ladder. “Did you?”

“Wh-What?” His ear is ringing, the pain feeling almost bone-deep. There’s another whimper, barely audible.

“You’re crying,” she says simply, perching herself on the edge of his bed. Her brow knits together. “Are you sad?”

Peter wipes the back of his hand roughly across his face and finds it’s wet with tears. It takes a second for his addled brain to realize that she’s right, and then an instant wave of self-consciousness washes over him as he looks into the eyes of the frowning six-year-old. “No, sorry, ‘m fine.” He pushes himself up on his elbows, hurriedly brushing the tears away.

Morgan’s eyes go wide. “You’re bleeding!” she gasps.

“Huh?” Peter follows her horrified gaze down to the pillow he’s been using. It’s covered in something dark and sticky. Alarmed, he lifts a shaky hand to his throbbing ear and feels more liquid trickling down. “Oh – um – wow, uh...”

“I’m getting Daddy!” Morgan declares, jumping up from the mattress and spinning on her heel. “Hang on!”

“Wait, no, don’t freak him—”

But she’s already out of the room.

“...out.” With a small groan, Peter carefully sits the rest of the way up and flips the lamp on. The pastel lilac pillowcase is stained with a mixture of blood and yellowish fluid. Grimacing, he grabs some tissues from the box on Morgan’s dresser and dabs them carefully at his dripping ear, hissing sharply at the stabbing pain it causes.

Within a minute, Morgan is back, dragging the hand of a disheveled but surprisingly alert-looking Tony in after her. “See? He’s crying and bleeding out of his ears!” she blurts.

“Just one ear,” Peter corrects, lowering the tissue down to look at the fresh blood and pus on it. “Gross...”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Oh, well in that case I’ll just go back to bed—you’re perfectly fine.” He moves over to the bed, Morgan following close behind. “Anything you wanna share with the class? You take any good hits to the noggin’ recently? Blow something up?”

Peter shakes his head as much as he dares, which only increases the ringing sensation. “No, nothing like that,” he mutters. He wishes this was something cool and Spider-Man related, but he’s pretty sure it’s just his patented Parker Luck™. “Ear started hurting a couple days ago,” he admits. “Thought it would go away.”

Tony pulls out his phone and flips on the flashlight. “Can I see it?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, wincing. He bites his lower lip and does his best to keep as still as possible as Tony peers into his ear with the light.

“What does it look like?” Morgan asks curiously.

“Ugly as hell...” Tony mutters. He flicks the light off and turns to Peter. “Pretty sure you ruptured your eardrum, kiddo.”

“Ah.” The pain seems to ramp up with the confirmation. That checks out. Certainly feels like someone just bored a hole through his ear. He can feel the fluid dripping out down his cheek.

Tony must notice it too because he grimaces and pulls a couple more tissues out of the box to hand him. “You know, if you weren’t feeling well, you could have told us that when you got here,” he points out. “Instead of waiting until”—he glances at his lock screen—“3:37 in the morning.”

Peter manages a small smirk. “Gotta keep you on your toes. You know, now that you’re retired and all...”

Looking very unamused, Tony extends a hand and helps pull Peter up to standing. The movement only increases the throbbing in his ear and Peter squeezes his eyes shut tightly against a wave of dizziness.

“Alright?” Tony checks, still gripping his arm tightly.

“Yeah,” Peter breathes, the ringing growing louder. “Sorry. Just... really hurts.”

“He can have some of my medicine,” Morgan offers in a slightly hushed voice. “The one Mommy gives me when my ears hurt.”

Tony lets out a short laugh. “That’s nice of you, sweetie, but I don’t think grape-flavored Children’s Motrin is gonna cut it here.” He gestures up to the top bunk. “Why don’t you hop back up there and try to sleep some more while I go get Peter fixed up?”

Morgan sticks her lip out in a pout. “But I’m not tired now.”

Instant guilt comes over Peter at having woken her up, but Tony doesn’t miss a beat.

“Nope, you are, you just forgot,” he says knowingly. He lets go of Peter’s arm for a second to scoop the now quietly giggling six-year-old up and deposit her on the top bunk. “Count some sheep, kid,” he advises, flipping off the lamp and snagging Peter’s ruined pillow to toss in the laundry.

With Morgan situated, Tony guides Peter out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He leaves Peter to clean up in the bathroom before heading to the kitchen in search of some kind of painkiller that might work on an enhanced metabolism.

Eventually, Tony returns with a bottle of Tylenol-Codeine, a glass of water, and an apologetic look. “It’s the strongest stuff we’ve got here. Might take the edge off at least.”

Peter murmurs his thanks and takes the pills, mostly to humor him. They both know it’s a lost cause. He can burn through a dose of morphine in less than ten minutes; there’s no way over-the-counter meds are going to do anything.

“First thing in the morning, I’ll take you to see Bruce,” Tony promises. “We’ll get you on some antibiotics and something better for the pain.”

Peter just hums in response.

Tony sighs. “We can try a heating pad,” he suggests. “That helps Morgan sometimes.”

“Sure.” Peter shrugs, listless. He’ll do anything at this point to make his ear stop aching.

Tony locates the heating pad and gets Peter set up on the chaise section of the couch under a blanket with the heating pad resting on the pillow under his ear. It helps marginally, which is slightly more than Peter can say for the pills.

“Sorry, kiddo. If only you’d known me in the nineties,” Tony says with a sad chuckle. “Could’ve tried all kinds of stuff on you.”

Peter lets out a short, empty laugh. “Yeah, too bad. Sure May would’ve loved that…”

Tony settles down onto the other end of the couch and flips on the TV for distraction. After a bit of channel flipping, he picks a period war drama about a badass sea captain fighting during the Napoleonic Wars, starring Russell Crowe.

(It was that or “My Strange Addiction” on TLC, and neither of them felt like watching a woman eat a couch).

Peter doesn’t exactly sleep, but he closes his eyes and drifts in and out while the movie plays low in the background. He’s kind of queasy—probably a combination of the otherwise useless drugs and the low grade fever he’s pretty sure he’s got going—but it’s nothing too awful. At least the sounds of cannons firing and battles being waged on screen drown out the incessant ringing in his head.

He isn’t sure how much time passes before a new voice joins the mix in a stage-whisper:

“Are they gonna cut his arm off?”

Peter’s eyes snap open. He sees Tony dozing on the other end of the sofa, so he sits up a little straighter and turns around to look at the staircase behind him. Sure enough, Morgan is sitting on the fourth step from the bottom, just high enough to see over the couch to the TV.

“I thought you went back to bed,” Peter whispers.

Morgan shrugs. “Counting sheep is boring.” She stands up and tiptoes down the rest of the stairs and into the living room. “Are they gonna cut his arm off?” she repeats.

Peter looks back at the movie. The ship’s doctor is in the midst of a rather intense amputation scene on a young boy’s infected arm. “Yeah, looks like it,” he says through a wince. He should probably change the channel to something more child-friendly, but Tony’s got the remote balanced on his knee and he’s all the way on the other end of the sofa. Oh well.

Morgan nods at the screen, looking impressed. Then she looks back to Peter. “Does your ear still hurt a lot?”

“Nah, it’s not so bad,” Peter lies. “No need to cut it off or anything.” He scoots over on the cushion a bit. “You wanna sit here with me?”

“Yeah.” She nods and hops up onto the couch beside him, snuggling against his right side. “Did Daddy give you medicine?” she inquires.

“Yeah, he did,” Peter assures.

She nods approvingly. “And did he give you the heater thingy?”

Peter lifts the heating pad up slightly for her to see. “Yep.”

“Good.” She nods again. “And cuddles?”

“Eh…” His gaze drifting to his quietly snoring mentor, Peter smirks a bit. “I think I’m getting too old for those.”

“Everybody needs cuddles,” she says knowingly. Scooting a little closer to him, she wraps her arms around his waist. “See?”

A small smile creeps across Peter’s lips. “Yeah, I see.”

They sit there for a moment, Peter doing his best to focus on the steady pressure of the six-year-old’s gentle squeeze rather than the thumping in his head. It’s almost peaceful.

“Either that, or you need a stick,” Morgan pipes up, breaking the spell.

Peter’s brow furrows. “A stick?”

“To bite down on,” she explains, pointing at the TV. “Like the boy in the movie.”

Peter blinks, then shifts his gaze sideways to the little girl watching nineteenth-century field surgery technique with genuine interest.

“It’s so he doesn’t scream,” she informs.

Peter holds out his hand. “Just give me the remote, Mo.”

X

Link to all my fics

If you enjoyed this story, you might also like: Adventures at the Stark Lake House

[ironmansuuucks]

Hello! uh is it alright if I requested a lil something something?? um! The reader coming home really really drunk after a girls night out and they basically can’t function properly, so Dewey helps take off makeup and clothes and what not and getting them ready for bed??? If you don’t want to write it or is overwhelmed by asks, I completely understand dude, no pressure I just really love your writing a lot xxx

this was one of my favourite requests oh my gosh...

dewey finn x reader

Thank you for this lovely request and for your beautiful words💜 I wasn’t loving this one until I wrote the ending and it pulled it all together hehe and now I love it and i hope you do to @large-unit 💜💜

As always, @thewolfisapartofmysoul always amazes me with her beautiful aesthetics, thank u so much for this one my angel💜

As usual, Friday nights out with the girls had been messy. This Friday had been messier than normal, and you knew your limits, but tonight you well and truly exceeded them. Normally you attempted to try and stick to one drink, be it wine or vodka, or rum, but tonight you thought you were clever and decided to mix everything. “Rookie mistake” you could practically hear Dewey’s condescending voice.

You tried to be as quiet as possible when you opened the door to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, Dewey Finn. Your sweet sweet Dewey Finn. In your drunken state you were mumbling to yourself “shh-hh, gotta be quiet shhh”. But your actions rejected these mutterings.

The door seemed to be louder than ever as you closed it, your hand bag hitting the tiled floor with a bang. “shhhh” you told it, holding your finger up to your mouth looking down at the door, then the bag.

Your mind was in a frenzy, with the world spinning faster than normal, your legs giving way as you slumped against the door.

“baby, is that you?” Dewey called from the living room, a little concerned. Dewey would never sleep until you were home when you went out. He was too worried about you and kept his phone next to him all night in case his girl needed him.

He wandered out into the kitchen to see if it was you. “babe?” he turned the corner and seen you sitting on the floor, leaning against he door. He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at your punch-drunk and dazed being.

“shh-hh, Dewey’s slee-ping” you shushed him, your eyes closed and head against he door.

“well, someone’s had too much to drink.. again…” he plodded over to you snickering, plopping himself on the floor in front of your feet.

Dewey began to unlace your doc martens, but you pulled back before he could. “hey! I-I have a-a boyfriend” you slurred, pointing your finger, warning him.

“no shit” Dewey snorted, a smile brushed his lips as he grabbed your foot and held it tighter, managing to undo your laces.

You peeled open your eyes and frantically moved your sweaty hair out of your face, lighting up when you notice Dewey sitting in front of you, fighting with your boots. A smile quickly spread across your face as you flung your arms out “baaaa-aaabe! You’re here!” you bellowed, excited to see your boyfriend and his cute messy, tired face and hair.

“yeah I most certainly am.. now how did you get home this time my angel?” Dewey’s protective boyfriend side always came out when you stumbled through the door yourself, worried you had been left to walk home alone.

You twisted your mouth to the side, looking up for inspiration, confused. Everything was a bit fuzzy. Well, really fuzzy.

“uuuuuuh…..” you tried your best to remember.

Dewey pulled your first boot off and quickly got to work on the second. He sat with his legs open, at either side of your leg and pulled your foot towards him a little, making you slide along the floor, and down the door a bit. He briefly looked up at you trying to remember and smirked, before looking back down at your triple noted laces.

“was it maybe.. a car… maybe with Stacey… and Aimee?” he quizzed, eager to find out to settle his mind.

You knitted your eyebrows for a second before slightly remembering singing Galway Girl on the ride home with your friends. “oh! Yesyesyesyeys we were sing-ing uhhh Galloway Guy or something…”

Dewey nodded his head knowingly, “so it was Jason that picked you up... that’s fine.” Jason was Aimee’s boyfriend, and the one that normally picked you guys up on Fridays. It tended to alternate between Jason and Dewey.

After pulling off your second boot and tossing them to the side, Dewey pulled himself up, shaking his head and sniggering at the state you were in. Your hair was everywhere, one of your eyelashes was pretty much hanging off, not to mention the slight smudge of your lip gloss. His eyes wandered down and noticed the stain that tainted your red body suit. You had pretty much spilled an entire VBL down yourself and almost had a fight with the guy who knocked you and made you spill it.

He stood over you and grabbed your hands to pull you up.

“C’mon you..” he tried to pull but you resisted and slid further down the door. “nooooo” you whined, throwing your head back. Dewey rolled his eyes playfully, sighing at you. He pulled your arms up, but you went limp and let your head flop backwards. “leave me he-re I’m too tiiirreeed” you moaned.

“y/n, come on… you’re gonna hurt yourself!”. You pulled against him in protest “just leave me heeeerre”.

Eventually Dewey just picked you up, ignoring your drunken protests, and carried you to your bedroom, sitting you on the edge of the bed. He pointed his finger at you as you swayed a little, eyes half-lidded, smiling up at him.

“stay” he warned, smirking at you. He was trying not to laugh too much, because he knew that if he laughed and provoked you then he would have no hope in hell at settling you down for sleep.

You pointed your finger back at him, narrowing your eyes, still slightly swaying. “or what?”. You smirked.

Dewey turned around and searched for the baby wipes in the dimly lit bedroom. “you don’t… wanna find out…” he joked.

Dewey came and sat on the bed next to you, his hands finding your face and turning it to look at him softly. He smiled at your features. Your tired eyes and slumped form. He wouldn’t change any of this for the world.

“look at that face…” he squeezed your cheeks lightly, making you giggle. “I can tell you who won’t be laughing in the morning…” he raised one of his eyebrows, suppressing a laugh, knowing how moody you were gonna be in a matter of hours.

You continued to look at him in awe, he was the most beautiful man in the world to you. His sleepy eyes, and flushed face making you fall in love all over again. Dewey looked into your sparkling eyes and blushed a little at the way you looked at him. He kissed you quickly on your lips before taking a make up wipe out of the pack.

“first things first… lets get these contraptions off your beautiful face…” he gently took off your fake eyelashes one by one, setting them on your nightstand, knowing you would wear them again. He was so thoughtful, how did you get so lucky?

“mmmm I love you…” you hummed, leaning into kiss him, but you just fell against him instead. Dewey grinned, and shook his head, “ohhhh I can’t wait to see you in the morning”. “you- you’re just so beautiful” you continued humming into his chest. “and so cosy.. and you smell like cinnamon…” you trailed off as you started to slip into sleep.

Dewey put his hands under your arms and lifted you up. “make up and pyjamas and then you can sleep my darling”. You simply hummed in response, your eyes closed, slowly drifting.

Dewey ran the baby wipe across your face a few times, getting off as much as he could before he stood you up and started to get you undressed. All he could smell was whatever you had been drinking. H couldn’t quite put his finger on what the aroma was. “y/n what the hell were you drinking?” he muttered, unbuttoning your skirt.

“mmm lil bit of everything darling” you nonchalantly replied.

Dewey raised his eyebrows, his mouth moving to a shocked pose and looked up at you; he was crouching down, attempting to unbutton your body suit.

“uh, oh.. rookie mistake” he smirked. You simply rolled your eyes.

“im fi-“ you brought your hand up to your mouth, vomit threatening to spill. Dewey flinched a little. “if you’re gonna be sick you gotta tell me.”

You breathed in through your nose deeply and swallowed. “I’m- I’m fine.”

Finally he unbuttoned your body suit and started to lift it above your head. He had seen you like this too many times, nothing phased him anymore.

“Dewey Finn… don’t ya think you should take me to dinner first?” you flirted a little.

“oh ha ha, I’ve never heard that one before… only every freaking Friday night” he snorted.

As usual, Dewey already had your pyjamas sitting on your bed, waiting for you coming home, and he’d set up some pain killers and water on the bed side table just before you got home.

Eventually, he managed to get you pyjamas on and he had grabbed a bobble to tie your hair up. As he was softly pulling your hair into a low pony tail you sighed.. on the verge of tears.

“why am I such a mess” you sobbed a little.

Dewey shook his head and smiled, you always got like this at the end of the night; a little bit weepy and feeling sorry for yourself. You were fine really, just drunk.

“you’re not a mess baby.. you’re… a spicy disaster” he chuckled to himself. As he pulled back the bed sheets for you. You sobbed harder “why are you so mean to me”.

You got into bed, stepping over the bucket placed at your feet in case you woke up needing to puke.

Dewey continued to laugh under his breath, smirking. “I’m sorry my love…” he turned off the side light and climbed into bed next to you.

“I’m sorry, I’ll take you to McDonald’s tomorrow for chicken nuggets to make up for it… deal?” he scooted over to you, pulling you into him.

“mmm deal… I love chicken nuggets…” you managed before you drifted off to sleep in his arms.

“yeah I know you do..” he wiped the stray hairs from your face as he kissed your forehead.

“and I love you.. my spicy little chicken nugget”.

tags: @thewolfisapartofmysoul @paxenera​ @heknowshisherbs​ @missihart23​ @geminiacally​ @go-commander-kim​ @gegehaddock​ @baby-beej​ @sadpuppetshows​ @hoodoo12​ @large-unit​ @thats-specific​ @vicunaburger​ @stranger-strings​ @bugdrinkss​ @ssheinaa​ @demonwifey​ @beetle-herbs​

[larryfanficwriter98]

Chapter Four

{ My idea of the flowers, painting, and pearl necklace because I need visual things. sorry. if you don't want pictures just let me know}

Harry was wrapping the framed painting in bubble wrap when his phone started ringing. He grabbed it. frowning when he saw it was a facetime request from Louis. Which was weird for many reasons especially since it was currently 2 in the morning in Manchester. Harry hesitated but accepted it only to laugh when he saw Louis was completely drunk and squinting at the phone.

"Louis.. Louis no. You can't call your boyfriend drunk off your ass."

"Yes, I can. Leave me alone. I want to call him."

"Louis you will regret in the morning and besides you remember our rule. Friends don't let friends drunk call boyfriends. Or text. Or just handle a phone in general. So give it here."

"No." Harry quickly started recording his screen so he could send it to Louis tomorrow.

"Fine. I need to go find Niall and Zayn then we are leaving got it?"

"Got it, dad."

"Nialler!" Louis frowned at the screen and tapped at it.

"Call Hazzy. Call Hazzy. Siri... Siri.. call- Liam my phone isn't calling him!" Louis yelled over the sound of the music and people in the pub

"Louis do not climb on the table. No get down people are going to think you're a dancer with that ass of yours. No, don't shake it. Fucking christ Louis. How you've not been approached all night is beyond me with the way you do things."

The phone was on the table that Louis was currently standing on with a drink in his hand. He was shaking, what Harry now knew was a very round ass as a song played in the music. Harry put his phone against the stand so he could go back to bubble wrapping while also paying attention to a very cute drunk Louis. Eventually, Louis and the others were dragged to a car than inside a house. Louis had been telling the phone to call ''Hazzy'' for the past ten minutes.

"Go to sleep Louis." Liam said as pushed Louis onto the bed, Louis whined as he looked at his phone.

"Siri. Text Hazzy night night xxx. Kay? Bye." Harry covered his mouth as Louis fell asleep almost immediately

"Night night Louis." Harry said as he looked at the phone screen, studying Louis' features. He was cute and breathtaking even with his flushed face from alcohol and the cold wintery air. Harry ended the recording then the facetime shaking his head we he sent Louis the video.

Night Louis xx

Louis was able to not look at the video until he was soaking in the tub only a few hours later. He had woken up puking and he very much regretted taking Niall up on the drinking contest. He had known of course to never try and out drink an Irish, but he had already been drunk and he was stupid when he drank. He watched the video twice, once to see what he did as he didn’t remember anything and the second time to see Harry's reaction to everything.

They had never spoken about what they looked like, but for some reason, Louis was not at all surprised to see Harry with a curly bun resting on the top of his head as if he hadn't brushed it yet. Which no judgment from Louis, everyone has those days. He also wasn't surprised to see he had soft muscles like he was mo muscular, but not buff and not overly so, just enough to give a soft outline of his forearms. His jawline was perfect and he had a brilliant smile and his emotions portrayed in his eyes open as he glanced at the phone regularly.

Louis watched as he bubbled wrapped what Louis was assuming his next set of gifts there was already a long skinny box taped and closed that Louis thought Harry put a painting in. Louis also saw a scatter of fake flowers again on the ground around him. Louis knew Harry from somewhere, he just couldn't place it and it bothered him as he paused the video staring at Harry's face as he looked at the camera. Not able to think too much on it Louis moved on. He got out of the bath and headed back to bed to sleep some more.

***

The next few days were without texting because Harry was going from Sydney to Los Angeles, Sydney was almost a full day ahead of L.A, 17 hours to be exact so Harry took two days, after a 13-hour flight, to settle into the time zone differences. It also meant that Harry was now 8 hours behind London which means Louis now woke up first and went to sleep first, not the other way around. It took a few days to adjust to it, but they did adjust eventually. Louis only accidentally woke Harry up once.

Harry had sent the package of Chinese and Australian souvenirs before he had gotten on a flight. Louis had gotten a notification telling him he had packages delivered at the p.o boxes so after work he had headed there excitedly. He headed to the locker and pulled out the two 20x20x20 boxes then pulled out a 37x4x27 picture box. He put the items in his car and grabbed the note that was sticking out and Harry told him to look for.

Before going home head here if it's before 8pm.

There was an address written in the note so Louis typed it into his Maps and headed there parking upfront of a flower shop. He shook his head as he got out walking inside the.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"I don't know. My boyfriend-"

"You're Louis then. This way dear." Louis followed the woman to a back room where she grabbed a beautiful bouquet of flowers, "he told us to pick them for a long-distance partner. We made sure love was represented too much as he told us you guys wanted to wait to see each other in person. He did say you two were exclusive and committed so we made sure represent that. Faithfulness and admiration as well as honesty, trust, and longing." Louis blushed as he accepted the bouquet

"Thank you."

"Of course dear." Louis headed to his car and grabbed his phone texting Harry that the flowers were beautiful and that he'll send pictures when he got home. He had been debating whether to tell Harry his address so he could just send it to the house and as he struggled to only make one trip inside he decided he would do that.

"Need help?" Liam asked already grabbing the picture box and flowers, "how's the boyfriend? Spoiling you rotten still I see.

"Leave him alone. It's cute." Louis set the box on the coffee table then grabbed the picture box and sat that on top of it.

He then headed to where he had put the vase from Denmark at the end table in the hall that had a clutter of mail, keys, and other knick-knacks they didn’t bother to clear away. He filled the vase with water then carried it to the living room, he put his flowers inside the vase then carried it upstairs setting it on his bedside table. Louis adjusted a few things then took a picture of it sending it to Harry.

Hurrying downstairs he was anxious to see the picture, he had let it slip he liked Chinese paintings when Harry was sending pictures of an art gallery he was visiting. Louis hadn't thought of it, but now that he saw what could possibly be a painting he was a little worried that it may have come off wrongly. He didn’t want Harry to think he only wanted these gifts, not that he didn’t appreciate them and love them, but they weren't wanted.

"Open up the long box first." Niall said eagerly

"I was going to Neil." Louis grabbed the box and broke the tape pulling out a beautifully framed painting of pink flowers and black bark that make Louis smile as he thought it matched his real flowers upstairs. He set it off to the side then set the box off to the ground sp he could open a 20x20x20 box. Ripping the tape he laughed seeing Christmas wrapping paper wrapped around different items. There was a letter there and he unfolded it reading its contents,

Louis,

Do not open until Christmas except the one with the double bow. Open that one on the 24th. I'll be free on the 23rd, 24th, 25th, 26th, 31st, and 1st. Make sure to have it set up as soon as you open it for skyping.

Harry xx.

Louis set the letter off to the side and grabbed the first gift with a green bow. He frowned though when he saw it was addressed to Niall.

"This is for you Niall. Harry says not to open it u too Christmas though."

"What? Really? Sweet." Louis handed him the rectangular package then pulled out another rectangular box with Niall's name. "Is he trying to win us over?" Niall asked

"He's just thoughtful like that." Louis said with a shrug as he pulled out two packages with a lighter green bow.

They had Zayn’s name on them so he handed them to him. Liam's two packages had a white bow on them and the rest had red bows. Louis set them under the tree carefully nothing the one package at the bottom had two bows, a red and green. The second box had a few packaged wrapped in birthday wrapping paper with a note telling him not to open them until his birthday. He set them under the tree as well for now then pulled out the Teddy bears for China and Australia.

The China souvenirs consisted of a few different teas for Louis with descriptions of what they tasted like to Harry without anything added to them. A few large paper cuttings with a note saying they are placed in windows in China and at night with a light on it looked " cool ". Louis chuckled as the simple explanation as he set them aside he did like them, the bright red was beautiful. He was already thinking of ways to decorate his room with a Chinese accent wall above his headboard. Next was a Chinese silk wall hanging that was a beautiful blue shade. Following that was some sweats, a few Chinese knots, a box of beautifully painted chopsticks, and then the last thing was a long rectangular box. The sticky note on it read,

I have a set too. I wear mine often, but you don't have to wear them I just wanted to get you a pair to have. Never know when you may need them.

Louis opened the box revealing a three chain set of pearls. Louis grinned and ran a gentle finger over them. He has seen a glimpse of Harry's pearl's over his shirt during their facetime. Louis still couldn't quite place where he knew Harry from and it's been bugging him.

Moving on for the Australian souvenirs the first thing was a lot of T2 Tea products which Louis was grateful for. He loved trying new teas and the fact Harry has bought at least one tea product from each country meant a lot to Louis and showed him that Harry paid attention. After the tea, it was some classic Vegemite with a note telling Louis it tasted like three days old Thai take out that had Louis laughing. There a side note saying no one was allowed to taste it without it being recorded.

Following the Vegemite was some food and snacks, an adorable koala ceramic mug, a 3D Ned Kelly mug that Zayn took and claimed as his own. Following those, there were some kid-friendly wooden puzzles, 21 kookaburras, koala, kangaroo, emu, and crocodile growing eggs for each child and staff member at the daycare center. 25 paint your own boomerang kits for the daycare and the lads that they were going to paint later that night as they share a bottle of whiskey together. Then the last few items were just small Australian animal bouncy balls for the daycare and of course some teas.

"He really likes those kids." Liam said as he examined the boomerang kit

"We both want a big family one day, that's something we have mentioned in passing and he knows I adore the kids at the daycare. He loves kids."

"You two have talked about kids?"

"Not like that, but yes it sort of came up while we were talking about the daycare." Louis shrugged as he put the kids’ things in the box to take it to the daycare after the holidays. Today had been the last day of work until the 2nd of January. He set that box aside then packed the rest of his stuff in the other box and headed up to his room to decorate.

[queencarolinemikaelson]

That One Time Caroline Forbes Lied to the Truth Circle

//klaroline au week// - day 7 - trope x trope best friend’s little sister x first time sex This is a long one, folks. NSFW. Enjoy!

xxx

There were many moments in Caroline Forbes’ life that led her to this excruciating moment.

God, dammmmit, how she wished to be literally anywhere else but here.

But she wasn’t anywhere else. She was here, and this was happening.

“Tyler after the football finals, in Junior year,” Elena stated.

“No, wasn’t it Matt? At that New Year’s party?” Bonnie chimed in. “Sorry, Bekah.”

“I’m well aware of Matt’s romance before me with not one, but two in this circle.”

“You know, Caroline,” Katherine said. “I don’t think I actually know this story?”

“Wait, I don’t think even I know this story, either,” said Elena.

“I don’t know if I want to know this story,” Stefan mumbled.

Bloody hell, bloody hell.

She could feel the honest truth forcing its way from her, she could not defy the sanctity of Truth or Dare! The mixture of honour and tequila in her blood wouldn’t allow it!

“What was the question again?” Caroline asked, feigning ignorance to buy a tiny bit more time.

“Who did you lose your virginity to?” the group chorused. 

It was a story Caroline had kept as close to her chest as her heart itself, for more reasons than she could count, the main of which were sitting in that circle right now.

In a somewhat out of body experience – maybe brought on by the quart of tequila in her system, or maybe just from the sheer mortification of it all – Caroline could see very clearly every moment in her life that progressed her on this path. Whence she was but a wee four-year-old, all the way to the 22-year-old she was now.

It all started when her father left her mother, admitting he love for another man. It rocked the little conservative town of Mystic Falls, and left the little Forbes family a little littler. But at the end of the day, Caroline loved her father, loved her step father, and loved that they were happy.

Then there was her mother. Elizabeth Forbes, while rightly distraught about the divorce, was self-aware enough to know that her relationship with Bill was not true love. So when her high school sweet heart happened to move back to Mystic Falls, two motherless kids in toe, Liz took it as a sign from the universe. Only two years later, Liz Forbes became Liz Salvatore, and Caroline gained another step-father and two brothers, Damon and Stefan.

Caroline supposed Damon deserved an honourable mention in this memory-lane-trip. Because, at seven years her senior, Damon was a built-in babysitter for the youngest in their blended family. And Liz and Giuseppe grew quite comfortable with that fact, thank you very much. But as soon as Damon got his first set of car keys, there was no way in Mystic Falls – or even in hell, for that matter – he was sticking around to babysit his 9-year-old sister?

Of course, once Damon would no longer babysit Caroline, the Forbes/Salvatore parents just had to find someone. After all, Damon wouldn’t do it – because “DUH I have a life? Why are you trying to ruin to it?” – and Stefan, well Stefan was old enough at thirteen to get himself to and from school and extra-curricular activities. But he was certainly not old enough to mind Caroline. So who better to ask than Elijah Mikaelson. He was polite, whip smart, gracious, kind and the most charming teen in town. Elijah’s role in this entire saga, however, was to come into play years later.

And of course, of course, Stefan played a huge part. Stefan was her other big brother, and he was her yard stick for something that was cool. And, more pertinently, Stefan chose to become best friends with another of the Mikaelsons, Elijah’s younger brother, Klaus. But she would get to Klaus later.

Caroline supposed, there wouldn’t be this story without the rest of the Mikaelson family, would there? Finn, Kol, Rebekah, and Henrik. Finn didn’t really play his part, as innocuous as he was. But the three younger Mikaelsons certainly did, and their mother, Esther. If it hadn’t been for them, the events of that weekend, that Caroline was so reticent to share, happened as a direct result of their existence.

Caroline knew she had to take some responsibility. She had organised tonight’s event. She suggested playing their old high school favourite game. She was there that night. And it took two to tango, after all. But god, couldn’t they just drop it?  

Which just brought her back to Klaus. None of this would be possible without Klaus.

Klaus was Stefan’s best friend, since nearly before Stefan was Caroline’s brother. The two had been inseparable their entire middle school lives, with not much changing well into their high school and college life. Klaus was smart, funny, and gorgeous, just like Stefan, and so of course they were quite the dominant pair strutting around Mystic Falls high.

Bloody Klaus. He always starred in the bits of her life she was most closed off about. He was the only one who saw her her bikini strap break when she was 13, leaving her chest completely bare. He’d quickly given her the giant pink flamingo he had been floating on, instructing her to use it to cover herself, while he grabbed a towel she could use. It was a moment that had completely mortified Caroline, but they had never mentioned it again.

He was also there when, at the age of 15, she had gotten tangled in the strappy sandals she was wearing to a party and fallen flat on the bitumen. He’d doubled over laughing, until she sat up dazed, blood running from a nasty, dirty cut on her face. His mirth had vanished and he rushed her to his house, which was much nearer than hers. She was his best friend’s little sister, of course he would look after her. That’s just what good people did. Caroline would never forget his 17-year-old fingers tenderly cleaning her wound, while she fidgeted distractedly. It was another moment they’d never spoken of again.

And of course, he played the starring role in the story they were trying to needle out of her right that very moment. It was a moment he had once again never mentioned again.

“So uhh... the question again…” Beetroot-red-Caroline squeaked.

“Come on, Caroline! Stop trying to weasel your way out of this!”

“A lady never kisses and tells,” Caroline said, positively willing the swelling in her face to go down. “Why are we playing this dumb game anyway?

“Caroline Elizabeth Forbes,” Elena said, sternly. “You will not sully the purity of the truth or dare circle!”

“You’ve been making all of us confess to our deepest darkest secrets for years, because of your insistence upon the integrity of this dumb game,” Bonnie chided. 

“Yeah, Caroline,” Marcel drawled. “You made me admit all the stuff I did with Charlotte, while my new girlfriend was in the circle. You can cough up one lousy virginity story.”

Caroline helplessly looked from her friends to her brother, who just shrugged sympathetically. Stefan loved his sister, but she did have quite the way of squeezing people’s deepest secrets out of them.

“You’ve made your bed, Care,” Stefan said, ruffling her hair. “What do you think, Klaus, think she’s gotta suck it up and give us a bit of a story?”

Caroline turned her imploring eyes to Klaus.

“Please, I really don’t want to share this story,” Caroline said pointedly, almost as if she was talking directly to Klaus. “It’s private, you know.”

The protests from the group were instant. Caroline was usually the first person to tell you that you had to be honest and truthful, especially in truth or dare. It was the rules and what a better way to have hilarious fun that making people spill their secrets.

Klaus didn’t know why she was so reticent to sharing her first time story. Tyler had been her boyfriend, nothing saucy to ruffle her beautiful feathers. Just high school sweethearts trying things.

“Guys please,” Caroline beseeched.

“Nope, no way Caroline, those puppy dog eyes will not get you out of this!” Elena said, stubbornly.

“Come on, Care, it can’t be that bad!”

“Tyler wasn’t a bad guy even if he did peak in high school!”

“You gotta tell us!”

“Car-o-line! Car-o-line! Car-o-line!”

Suddenly someone in the group started chanting her name, the same way they chanted U-S-A on game days.

“Car-o-line! Car-o-line! Car-o-line!”

More and more people joined in, until the whole group was shouting, “Car-o-line! Car-o-line! Car-o-line!”, and crowding in on her.

“Fine!” she shouted, a little more aggressively that she would have liked, but it had the desired effect of shutting everyone up.

“I will not tell you who it was with, because that is my business,” she said, pompously. “But it was at that Founders’ Christmas party senior year.”

Before anyone else could protest her caginess, or even respond, Caroline was up and gone.

“The Founders’ Christmas party senior year?” Elena said, confused.

“I wasn’t there when you guys were seniors,” Stefan said.

“Neither was I,” Katherine added, and a number of the Mystic Fall alum nodded their absentia. “Esther hosted it, I think? I remember Elijah complaining about how tense Mama Mikaelson was about it.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Rebekah said, her eyes flicking to Klaus, shrewdly.

“Wait, Klaus, that was the year were there, right?” Stefan said, his brow furrowing, trying to pull details from his mind. “My parents and your mom roped you into going home to stay with Caroline, and help your mom. Do you remember Caroline hanging around anyone?”

“Not to my knowledge, no,” Klaus said, with every ounce of cool, calm, collectedness in the world.

“Caroline was so mad our parents made her have a babysitter,” Stefan chuckled at the memory. “It was probably because she wanted to shag this mystery person without anyone being any the wiser.”

“And none of us were!” Elena said. “I can’t believe she never told us! Why is it such a secret?”

“Who knows,” Kat said. “But also who cares, she’s not here anymore. Truth or dare, Stefan!”

As his best friend chose dare, Klaus sighed in a bit of relief, but also in revelation.

Opting to take a moment to collect his thoughts, Klaus left the circle to get something stronger to drink than beer; a goodly amount of the bottom shelf whiskey to be precise.

He gulped it all in one go because he lied. He lied to the whole truth circle.

Klaus did remember someone hanging around Caroline that weekend.

It was him.

xxx

Four years earlier.

It was four years prior to that fateful night when Elijah’s role in the humiliation had starred.

Elijah was Caroline’s faithful – or fateful as this case may be – babysitter all the way up until she turned 12, and Elijah regretfully moved away from college. Caroline would miss him, as he had been minding her twice to three times a week for the past three years. But when he left, Liz and Giuseppe, fell into the trap many parents do with their youngest, and decided Caroline was definitely mature enough at the ripe old age of twelve to take care of herself after school.

Sometimes she would hang out with Bonnie and Elena. Sometimes she would have an after school activity. Sometimes Stefan would let her tag along to whatever he was doing. But most days though, Caroline took herself home, and hung out by herself until her brother, or parents came home.

It was a good, independent life, even if a tad lonely. Perfect for someone as old as her.

So, imagine when, in her final year of high school, after six whole years of being her own babysitter, Giuseppe and Liz were going to be away for a week on a business trip, turned mini-vacation, and they insisted on finding someone to stay with Caroline. As she was too young to stay by herself, for a whole week after all.

This offended Caroline on many levels.

She was eighteen, for heaven’s sake. She would have school during the day, she’d been a lone ranger in the after school hours for years. She wasn’t suddenly going to be terrified at night by herself?

And what was she supposed to get up to at night anyway? Sure, she was a party animal, and the best party planner her age, but there was absolutely no way any of the year would go to an illicit party at the Salvatore house. Caroline was the daughter of the town sheriff; that wrath was a fate no teenager would willingly bring on.

Caroline made these arguments loudly, infuriatedly, and petulantly. But nope her parents would not have it.

“You can look after yourself sweetie, we know,” they implored her. “But we just don’t want to be worrying about you all alone while we’re trying to relax.”

Caroline’s protests didn’t change, but neither did theirs.

They, of course, asked Stefan first.

“Please Stefan,” they said over the phone. “She’s your sister, and you love her.”

And Stefan did love her. Caroline was his favourite girl in the whole world, and he couldn’t wait until she lived in the same college town as he did so they could party their lives away together. But there was no way in hell he was giving up a weekend just to go home and mind his baby sister. Not this close to finals. Not when he almost convinced Valerie Tulle to finally go out with him.

And especially not because Caroline had text him before their parents even called him, and threatened the life of his Bon Jovi vinyl collection if he agreed.

So Stefan had politely declined his parents, citing a very imminent, very important, but also quite vague exam in his reasoning.

So, the Forbes-Salvatore parents half-heartedly ran the request past Damon.

“Please Damon,” they begged him. “She’s your sister and you love her.”

And Damon did love her, at least begrudgingly – it was hard not to love the bouncy ball of blonde. But there was not a chance that he would leave the office for an entire week, only to drive from New York to Mystic Falls to mind his younger sister.

And especially not when Caroline text him, begging to turn down their parents. She just wanted some alone time.

So he declined his parents – “Wall Street doesn’t just take vacations.”

Maybe if Elijah had never been he babysitter, Caroline’s mother and step-father would have left their search at Stefan and Damon. And given up the whole search as a bad job.

But no.

This was when Liz and Giuseppe even went as far as calling Elijah.

Luckily, for Caroline though, her former babysitter, as touched as he was that they still thought so highly of him, was busy in the first few months of a new job, so was unavailable.  

And after that, Caroline honestly thought she had won. Who on earth would they ask? She was 18! She didn’t need a baby sitter. No one in their right mind would agree to baby sitting an 18-year-old.

At least, that’s what she thought, until approximately three days before her parents were due to leave and Liz came in to where Caroline was studying to talk to her.

“So, Klaus is going to be here at about 5pm on Saturday, does that sound okay? You’ll be okay for the rest of the day?”

“Wait, what?” Caroline exclaimed, slightly thrown.

“Klaus is staying here while we’re away this week, remember? I thought I’d run it by him, given that Elijah was always so reliable, and he is, after all, Stefan’s best friend,” Liz said, seemingly baffled that her daughter didn’t know this information. “I told you all this last week?”

“Oh my god, what? No you didn’t?!”

“I did wonder why you didn’t put up more of a fight,” Liz mused. “Well, this isn’t up for discussion, Caroline. He’s basically just here anyway so we don’t have to worry about you here alone at night. Klaus is here for the week, and that’s final.”

And with that, Liz turned on her heel and went back to packing, leaving a tongue tied Caroline in her wake.

And so sat a truly grumpy Caroline that Saturday, waiting exasperatedly for her ‘babysitter’ to arrive.

When the knock at the door came, just after 5pm, as Liz had promised, Caroline pulled open the door a fiery look in her eyes.

“What on earth were you thinking?” she griped, without so much as a ‘hello’. “Did it not occur to you that I’m actually an adult? I don’t need a sitter.”

“Well hello to you too, love,” he drawled, giving her that wicked grin he always gave when he was stirring the pot. “I wasn’t aware that I was so unwanted in this household.”

“Don’t be cute with me, Klaus,” Caroline snipped, not having any of it. “Like, didn’t you even ask Stefan? Did it not cross you little mind to go ‘hey, best friend, your parents want me to babysit your adult sister for a week, why can’t you do it?’”

The final sentence Caroline put on her best mockery of his English accent, and flopped melodramatically onto the nearest couch.

“If you had asked that,” Caroline continued, now addressing the ceiling in the living room. “You would know that they did ask Stefan and he refused because I asked him to. I don’t want baby sitting! I just want to be able to use my house the way I want to for a change!”

Caroline felt her own frown so deep, so petulant, on her face, that she wryly admitted to herself, maybe she wasn’t as mature as she liked to think she was. But that wasn’t the point.

“I could have eaten whatever I wanted. Danced to loud, cringe music. I could have studied with no pants on! And now I don’t have that!”

Klaus just grinned his little grin, and picked up his bag.

“I’m sorry for ruining your no-pants plans, Caroline.”

Which was all he said before trying to dart upstairs to put his bag in the spare room.

“That’s your take away?” Caroline cried, dragging herself from the couch. “That I just wanted to wear no pants for the week? Nothing about the fact I can, as a matter of fact, look after myself!”

Klaus laughed at her, she really looked so completely stubborn and done with him already.

“Love, eat whatever, dance to whatever, wear pants, wear no pants, it’s all the same to me,” Klaus replied. “You can pretend I’m not here as much as you like. In fact, that might be the best outcome for us both.”

With that, and a wink, Klaus shut the spare room door in Caroline’s face, which only served to infuriate the Forbes woman even more.

With another giant huff, Caroline stomped back down the stairs, and flopped again on the living room couch again.

It was a few hours later when Klaus resurfaced.

In those hours, Caroline hadn’t done much more than sulk about her situation, but she also baked a cake, and started cooking dinner, feeling ever so slightly bad about her nastiness and petulance.

He was, after all, just being a good family friend, even if it did irritate Caroline’s personal preferences. And she liked Klaus. Of course she did, she’d know him forever. And it would be a little bit not awful to not have to be alone the entire week.

As he strode down the stairs, the garlic-y smells of a pasta sauce filled his nose.

If he were honest, Klaus had been wary of agreeing to this week. Rightly so, apparently. She was his best friend’s little sister, not exactly the top of the list of activities for a college student.

But soon after he got the call from Liz, and before he had a chance to talk to Stefan, Klaus received a call from his mother, Esther. And Esther told him, in no uncertain terms, he would accept Liz’s offer. Much like Caroline’s, Klaus’ protestations had fallen on unsympathetic ears. Esther’s insistence that Klaus came to stay with Caroline was just as much about her own personal gain. As a self-employed event planner and mother of six, Esther found herself with more to do than sense most of the time.

She was putting on the biggest event of the year for Mystic Falls, and with still three kids at home she thought she may forget to feed them amidst all the kerfuffle which was the week leading up to the Founders’ Christmas party. So, when Liz mentioned asking Klaus to stay with Caroline, Esther knew she would feel much better with an extra pair of hands on deck.

“During the school hours, Niklaus,” Esther said, sternly down the phone. “You will cook food for the fridge, and the freezer, so the kids can help themselves. You will run any errands I need of you. And you will do the school pick up and drop off.”

Klaus had, obviously, groaned, but was secretly glad for the excuse to say yes. He enjoyed going to Mystic Falls, because college sometimes became a little too much. It would be good to unwind a little. And even if his mother was going to be in her high-strung planning mood Klaus could vanish in the evening, because after all, he had an obligation to Caroline.

It would be a nice week.

“So,” Klaus said, leaning on the kitchen bench, feeling a little awkward. Sure he and Caroline had spent a small amount of time alone over their lives, but definitely nothing like this, and definitely not in a number of years.

“So,” Caroline mimicked.

“I suppose, I hardly even know much about you these days, sweetheart,” he said, flashing his signature dimples at her. “Your hopes, dreams, everything you want in life.”

Caroline just scoffed while stirring the pasta, though unexpectedly, even to himself, Klaus was delighted to see a slight blush, and just a feather of a smile settle on her face.

“Come on, Caroline,” he said. “I’m serious! You have to talk to me at some point. I am here all week, remember?”

“Uh! Don’t remind me!” she groaned. “Why did you agree to stay here anyway?”

“My mother is planning the Founders’ Christmas thing next weekend,” Klaus said, picking at some of the carrots Caroline cut for the pasta. “She demanded I agree to stay with you, so I can help her while you’re at school.”

“Why couldn’t she just ask you to stay with her and help her?” Caroline asked.

“I assume because she thought it would be a much more attractive offer for me,” Klaus shrugged. “Here with you is likely to be a lot calmer fro me than if I stay there.”

Caroline nodded, but was distracted from answering, as Klaus tried to nab a couple more bits of vegetable to snack on.

“Hey!” she chided. “That’s to go with dinner, keep your grubby paws off!”

Klaus laughed, and waited until she turned back to the saucepan on the stove, before grabbing a piece anyway and popping them into his mouth.

“I heard that,” Caroline snapped. “See, I’m already regretting you being here.”

From there, the rest of the evening was fine. Caroline was still mildly annoyed she had a babysitter, but, she reasoned, Klaus wasn’t so bad.

If the task had fallen to Elijah, Caroline would definitely have felt obliged to be a host the whole week. If it was Damon, he would have made her be his minion the entire time. If it was Stefan, the week would have been them having a semi-party every night, and Caroline would have gotten absolutely no work done.

So, if there was any outcome that required a babysitter, this was the best one.

Klaus gave her company at meal times, but gave her space when she wanted it.

Though, when school finished on Tuesday, a couple of days later, Caroline felt herself not wanting as much space as usual. It had been a long, boring day at school, and even though cheer practice after school had been fun, Caroline was still looking for a bit of interaction.

“Klaus,” Caroline called as she came in from practice. “Klaus, are you here?”

There was no answer.

Curiously, she nosed her way around the house, looking for her current housemate. There was definite evidence that he was around, his car in the drive for one, but there was not a sound nor a movement to alert her to his whereabouts.

“Ka-lau-ssss,” she said, exasperatedly. “Jeez, I finally start wanting you around the damn house, and now you’re suddenly Harry Houdini!”

“Oh, you want me now do you?”

Caroline jumped about a foot in the air, as Klaus spoke into her ear.

“What on earth is your game?” Caroline shrieked, punching him in the chest. “You’re supposed to be babysitting me! Not trying to kill me!”

Klaus just laughed at her – a habit that was becoming far too common, if you asked Caroline.

“Not trying to kill you, love,” he said, mirth still laced in his voice. “Just trying to entertain myself.”

“Can’t you entertain yourself by getting yourself off, like a normal college student,” Caroline huffed, still trying to slow her heart rate.

Though, her statement didn’t do a great job of slowing her heart rate, as she considered the substance of what she said.

“Been thinking about me getting myself off, sweetheart?” Klaus said, slipping a little flirt into his voice, before he could stop himself.

“No! I just… I was just saying… shut up!” Caroline spluttered, going an excellent shade of pink.

“Come on, love,” he goaded, still with that inexplicable flirt in his voice. “It’s not that disgusting a thought is it?”

His eyes were locked with hers, and she could feel herself crumbling a little under his gaze. He had kissed boys before, and done other things with them, but she’d never really explored much. And it was wildly inappropriate to wonder about her older brother’s best friend as a sexual being, but she definitely found herself doing it in that moment.

She had to shake herself a little after a moment, and unable to find the right way to answer to Klaus’ question, she ignored it.

“I thought we could have pizza for dinner,” Caroline said. “Maybe go for a walk or watch a movie? I’m still full of energy after cheer practice, I don’t want to just sit in my room and ignore you like I did last night.”

Klaus opted to allow for the change of subject.

“Have extra energy, love? I’m sure I can think of something we can entertain ourselves somehow.”

Well, almost.

Caroline rolled her eyes, hard, and stalked away from him.

“Fine!” she growled. “I thought it could be nice, but since you can’t keep your mind from the gutter, Klaus, I’ll just…. Entertain myself!”

Caroline by this point, was at her bedroom door, and managed to slam it in his face. And she felt quite proud of her timing, until she heard a hearty laugh from the other side of the door, and Caroline realised exactly what she said.

She groaned loudly to herself. Though was inconveniently still thrumming with energy from the day, just now with a second lot of energy joining the rest.

Later that night, it was Klaus’ turn to cook Caroline a silent apology meal. The same way she cooked for him the night he arrived.

He wasn’t sure what had got into him. Winding up Caroline was just such a delicious exercise. The shades of pink she turned, the entendres she inadvertently made, the adorably over the top facial expressions he elicited. It was just quite fun.

But after an hour of feeling a little pleased with himself about it all, he started feeling a little guilty.

She was an adult, and she was an exceptionally beautiful adult – although he’d never let himself admit that to himself before and never would again (she was Stefan’s sister after all) – but she was still young. It wasn’t like he was 1000-years-old and she just 18 – he was only two years older than her – but he didn’t know where she was on her sexual journey. Flirting her into knots when he was quite confident in his sexuality, and she not so much, just felt a bit ick.

Klaus decided as much fun as flirting with Caroline had been, he was going to leave that ball in her court, so to speak. If she wanted to flirt with him overtly, then he would pick up what she put down, but wouldn’t initiate it.

“Hey Klaus,” Caroline said softly, when she finally surfaced for dinner. “This isn’t pizza.”

She still had a bit of pent up energy, but was wary because of before. Although it felt surprisingly good to flirt with Klaus, she felt it was a bit of a dangerous line to toe.

“Well spotted,” he intoned, sardonically. “I thought we could partake in a well loved, alliterative tradition; Taco Tuesday.”

Caroline smiled a little brighter. If he wasn’t going to mention earlier, then neither would she.

“That sounds nice!” she replied. “I have some tequila upstairs if you want margaritas to go with it?”

“Caroline Elizabeth Forbes!” Klaus exclaimed, in mock indignance. “It’s a school night!”

She rolled her eyes in response, and flounced upstairs to get the bottles she needed.

When she came back down, she set to work on the cocktails for the two of them.

“You know Caroline,” Klaus said. “I still don’t know much about you anymore. Tell me about yourself.”

“What don’t you know about me? You’ve known me since you were like eight?” Caroline said, squeezing a lime.

“Be that as it may, I hardly paid you any mind while in high school, and now I don’t live here,” Klaus reasoned. “Have you made any decisions about what or where you’ll study?”

“Not really,” she began, before thinking a couple moments longer. “I’d obviously love to do event planning or management. It would really be in keeping with skills I already have, but on the other hand, why waste money on a degree in something I’m already basically professional at. Another thing that was interesting to me was broadcast journalism, but as mom so rudely, but very fairly, pointed out, I barely watch the news as it is. I could do nursing, though blood makes me a bit squeamish.”

As Caroline continued to chatter about what she might want to do with her life, Klaus watched her, and noted the fondness he felt toward her. It was nice listening to her.

“I’m just rambling though, sorry,” Caroline said, a little embarrassed of herself. “I’m always doing that.”

“Not a problem in the slightest, Caroline,” Klaus said, throwing her a genuine smile. “It is nice.”

Caroline smiled shyly back at him, and blushed a little. He sounded so sincere, and it was so at odds with her usual interactions with Klaus.

“Any other thoughts on your future?” Klaus asked.

“Not really,” Caroline said. “I know people think I’m so planned and structured. But I think I want to go with the flow for a while, work out who I am before I settle for anything.”

“That’s very wise, love,” he said. “And I believe our food is ready.”

“Perfect timing!” Caroline grinned. “Margaritas are too!”

“Shall we take our dinner in the lounge?”

“No way, you animal!” Caroline laughed, grabbing the margarita jug in one hand and the glasses in the other. “We are having party food, which means we dine in the party room!”

“The den, I take it?”

“Correct!”

With that, Caroline was off, leaving Klaus to bring all the dishes for dinner into the den, where Caroline was setting up some elaborate game for them already.

“Steady on, sweetheart!” Klaus laughed at her. “How are we supposed to eat and play beer pong at the same time?”

“Oh, Klaus, honey, this isn’t beer pong!” Caroline laughed. “It’s the greatest board game you’ll ever play. I’m prototyping a drinking game for when I go to college.”

“Silly me,” Klaus drawled. “Explain the rules while we eat. But tuck in love, before it gets cold.”

The two friends whiled away the next few hours playing Caroline’s game. Klaus had to hand it to her, the girl knew what made a good drinking game.

It was just after 11pm when they decided to stop playing. Even by that time, there was not a clear winner.

“This is why I am prototyping, Klaus!” Caroline said, swatting playfully at him. “So I can discover where there are holes in the game play. I obviously have to work on the point system more!”

Both of them were definitely well past tipsy, but not quite properly drunk yet. They were in that happy, buzzing period where everything was that little bit heightened. Jokes were funnier, jibes were more meaningful, and flirts were more sensual.

“I probably should go to bed,” Caroline said through her buzz. “Or I’ll regret this in the morning.”

“How could you regret such quality time with me, my love?” Klaus teased.

“Oh so I’m your love now, am I?” Caroline giggled. “Not just a plain old love.”

“You get special consideration for making me laugh,” Klaus stated, matter-of-factly.

“I get it,” Caroline said, as she sprung up from the couch. “There’s levels, am I right?”

“And what on earth do you mean by that, Caroline,” he replied, getting up to follow after her.

“Oh you know,” she said, as she began climbing the stairs. “Everyone gets ‘love’, right? The ones you like a little more get ‘sweetheart’. And then the best people get ‘my love’?”

Caroline stopped midway up the stairs to turn around and raise her eyebrows triumphantly at him. Klaus, stopped his ascent when he was just a step below her, and he was awfully close to her. But in this tipsy state, he didn’t much mind.

“That’s right, my love,” Klaus said, cockily.

She leaned in, her face so close to his, he could count the freckles on her cheeks. Even though she was a full step above him, she was just at his eye level. Her heavy eyes bored into his and Klaus could have sworn her eyes flicked to his lips. And he certainly would by lying to himself if he said his eyes didn’t flick to hers.

“That’s what I thought,” Caroline said, her voice as low as he ever heard it.

With her eyes still locked with his, a tiny, mischievous smile lit her face, and she began chewing on her bottom lip.

It was Caroline unlike he’d ever seen her before. Enticing, intriguing, exciting. And that was enough to make him want her. But add just a hint of the forbidden in the mix, and boy, did it make her that much more alluring.

She leaned in a fraction closer, and Klaus was sure he was about to feel the glory of her lips on his, when his phone started buzzing loudly in his pocket.

Caroline visibly shook herself, apparently regaining her composure much faster than he was able to.

“You should get that.”

The voice was still Caroline’s, it was still kind and melodic, but he couldn’t help but feel he lost something secret.

“Klaus, the phone,” Caroline urged.

Finally pulled from his trance, Klaus reached into his pocket to grab his still ringing phone.

“Hello,” he answered.

“Klaus!”

Caroline only heard a loud voice excitedly say Klaus’ name, and she already heard enough.

With nothing more than a gesture upstairs to her bedroom, Caroline was off to sleep.

She didn’t escape fast enough, before she heard the tail end of Klaus’ conversation.

“I’m busy,” he said. “Hanging out with the best people. Goodbye.” 

Hearing that made a warm glow spread through her.

It was still alight within her the next night when she and Klaus were sitting in the lounge watching a movie after dinner. 

“So, am I invited to the event this weekend?” Caroline asked, about 45 minutes into the movie.

“It’s the founders’ Christmas party. You are part of two founding families, Caroline,” Klaus replied, sardonically. “I think you have a weightier invitation than I do.”

Caroline just laughed.

“But in all seriousness,” Klaus said. “Mother made a point of saying just today to make sure you come along. You’ll be the only representative of the Forbes and Salvatore family in attendance this year apparently.

“I guess that’s right,” Caroline said, pondering. “I will be all alone!”

“You will hardly be alone, love,” Klaus said, chuckling at her dramatics. “Elena and Bonnie will be there.”

“No actually,” Caroline said. “Elena and Jeremy are going to some family reunion thing out of town, and Bonnie is will be visiting her cousin.”

“What about my siblings?”

“Come on, Klaus,” Caroline chided. “All of them will have their friends there. Plus, your sister is dating Matt, my ex. Not super keen to hang out with those two just yet, as much as I like them both.”

“Well, there’s nothing else for it,” Klaus stated, with a tiny wink. “You’ll have to be my date for the evening.”

“I’ll have to be your date, will I?” Caroline asked, a little coolly.

“Yes you will, my love,” Klaus teased.

Caroline laughed, her faux-cool exterior cracking.

“Fine, I’ll be your date, Klaus,” Caroline said, that flirtatious smile back on her face. “But only if you wear a suit, and court me somehow. And get me a gift, obviously. I don’t put out otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t dream of you putting out for me, sweetheart,” he replied, trying desperately to play it as cool as she seemed to be. “But I can definitely find a suit.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” she replied.

At that moment, she hauled herself up from the couch, and began to pick up the plates in front of them, left over from dinner.

“Don’t worry about that yet, love,” Klaus said, covering her hand with his, and gently indicating to leave the chores for later.

Caroline flicked her eyes from their joined hands to his eyes.

“Stay,” he urged.

Caroline let herself be pulled back onto the couch, although this time she was far closer to Klaus than she had been, and he did not let go of her hand. And she wasn’t quite sure why, but she felt very comfortable to stay tangled up in him.

For the remainder of the film, neither of them spoke much, other than a bit of banter dragging the movie, but their bodies stayed close, and their hands locked. Every now and then Caroline would stroke her foot delicately along Klaus’ leg, or Klaus would draw circles with his thumb on her skin.

After it finished, they stayed in a similar state of sweet, both ignoring the complete insanity of what they were doing; just chatting, laughing, teasing.

And that’s how it was for the next couple of days. They spent every possible moment together; furtive glances, lingering touches, and enough entendre to keep both of them dizzy for each other. Though they still hadn’t taken it any further. While it was just implied attraction, it seemed much easier to deny.

When Saturday morning dawned, Caroline could hardly contain her excitement.

Now, she had been giving herself stern talking tos all week, because she knew once her parents were home, and Klaus left, things would go right back to the way they were. It would be like he was never there.

She knew that. She knew it would be that way, she knew it would have to be that way, she knew, no matter what this dalliance was, Klaus wouldn’t let it be any other way. And frankly, she wouldn’t let it be any other way.

But gosh, for the moment, it felt damn good to be so wrapped up in someone.

“Morning, my love,” Klaus yawned, as he came down the stairs the morning of the party. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah! Really well,” Caroline replied. “I was thinking of making pancakes for breakfast. Sound good?”

Klaus nodded his affirmative, before turning to put a pot of coffee on.

“What plans do you have for the day?” Klaus asked, just as the coffee machine began to whirr.

“Not really much, just breakfast, relax a bit, then I’ll start getting ready for the party at some point,” Caroline replied, smiling at him. “I have a very handsome date tonight?”

“Do you just?”

And boy, did she just.

Because later that day, as she descended the stairs, she nearly choked. For, standing at the bottom of the steps, with that god-damn perfect smirk quirking his lips, was Klaus, looking positively devastating in a crisp dark, navy suit.

“You scrub up well, Mikaelson,” Caroline praised, managing to keep her cool, and keep from actually choking.

“As do you, Forbes,” Klaus replied. “You are stunning.”

And she was. Her off-the-shoulder dress was the perfect package, for such a beautiful woman. Klaus honestly wasn’t sure how he was going to go back to Caroline being just his best friend’s little sister. Maybe he could never go back.

“I got you something,” Klaus said, handing her a long, thin box.

Caroline’s brow furrowed slightly, even though her eyes were wide, as she took the gift. She popped the lid of the box, and was met with a sparkling bracelet twinkling back at her.

“Klaus, it’s beautiful,” she said, in awe. “But I can’t accept this.”

“Come now, Caroline. This is that gift you demanded,” Klaus chuckled, taking the bracelet from her hand and beginning to attach it to her wrist. “Although, I still don’t expect you to put out, even though I met your demands.”

Caroline laughed out loud, remembering their conversation from days before.

“You really know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?” Caroline asked.

“Only the very best,” he replied, winking. “But we best be off. Mother will have my bow tie, and the head above it, if we are too late.”

“Yeah, you know the bow tie? Weird choice.”

Before too long, the two of them were stepping through the doors of the Mikaelson Mansion – the scene for the party that particular evening.

Caroline really was in awe of Mrs Mikaelson and her unrivalled ability to put on a show. Everything was twinkling, or sparkling, the soft music playing in the background was classy but not the usual boring string music that normally played at this sort of thing.

“Niklaus! Caroline!”

The hostess herself swanned over to the almost couple the moment they were through the door.

“It is so lovely to have you both here.”

“Thank you for having me, Mrs Mikaelson,” Caroline said, sweetly. “This place looks amazing.”

“Yes, mother,” Klaus interjected. “You’ve truly outdone yourself.”

“Oh, stop it,” the older woman beamed. “I’m glad you two are here, now the grand total of young people is at about 15. I did so hope more of your classmates would come along, Caroline.”

“Me too,” Caroline sympathised. “But you know this time of year, just so busy!”

“Yes, yes, well, I suppose,” Esther said, as another few guests arrived. “I must be off, do enjoy yourselves, and say goodbye before you leave.”

With that, the Mikaelson matriarch was off, leaving Caroline and Klaus to the party.

The two of them walked deeper into the house, a little awkwardly. They had been cooped up all week, just the two of them, and now they were out in the open, not particularly sure how to interact.

“Maybe we get some drinks?” Klaus said.

“Yeah, as if they’ll serve us alcohol. We’re both underage. Your mom’s the host, my mom’s the sheriff!”

“We can have orange juice or coke, sweetheart,” Klaus chuckled.

“Hi you two!” a voice said, from behind them.

It was Rebekah, who was holding a bit too tightly to her boyfriend’s hand.

“Hi,” Caroline said back, tensing a little. She was over Matt, she had to remind herself. “You guys having a good time.”

“Yes!” Rebekah exclaimed. “Most of my friend group is here. Not many seniors though, just you and Matt as far as I can tell.”

“Yeah,” Caroline said. “Honestly, though, without Bonnie and Elena, I’m pretty fresh out of my best buddies.”

Rebekah laughed in response, and then launched into her thoughts on Caroline’s current routines about the cheer squad.

The two girls spoke for a while, Matt and Klaus making gruff males-who-don’t-have-much-in-common small talk, until the lights lowered further, and the stately classical music, gave way to more popular tunes played by a DJ.

“Oh my gosh, Matt! It’s our song!” Rebekah shrieked, as a fairly non-descript pop song began to play.

With that, they were off into the middle of the crowd, dancing joyfully. 

Caroline felt a little pang in her chest. Partly out of the loss of such an easy boyfriend, as Matt was. But more for the fact that she and Klaus didn’t have a song, and never would. Tomorrow, her parents would be home, Klaus would be gone, and their moment would be over.

She and Klaus stood watching the crowd for a few minutes, when the song changed, and a Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas began to play.

“Care to dance, my love?” Klaus asked, almost tenderly.

She smiled, and let him lead her into the fray.

He pulled her close, close enough to drive them both crazy, but still far enough away to maintain that increasingly elusive plausible deniability.

“Does that make this our song?” Klaus murmured to her as they held each other.

“Do we need a song?” Caroline asked, doubtfully.

He didn’t answer, but he did pull her fractionally closer, even as he cast his eyes downward for a moment.

They remained silent for the rest of the song, though as the next started, Caroline’s face cracked into a smile.

“You know what, yes,” she said. “That is our song. I’ve had a really great time this week Klaus, no matter what.”

“Me too, my love,” he said, softly.

“Why don’t we get going?” Caroline asked, as though making an internal decision. “We can play loud music back at the Salvatore mansion, and maybe make our fun.”

Klaus nodded briskly, and she strode away from him. Following after her at a slower pace, his heart sped up slightly at the thought of what Caroline maybe had in mind. His best friend’s sister she may have been, but Klaus couldn’t deny the way his body had been consistently reacting to her the past few days.

“You two leaving so soon?”

Esther caught them as they were right at the exit. Klaus hoped Caroline would have an excuse because he certainly didn’t know how to explain to his mother that he was leaving her party early, with a girl, to go back to the girl’s empty house.

“Yes, Mrs Mikaelson,” Caroline said, with sincere sadness in her voice. “I have been trying to be really strict with my curfew lately, being a senior and all. I’ve got to keep my nose down if I want to get into my first choice college.”

“If it’s for college, I suppose I can’t fault your commitment to your studies.”

“I can send Klaus back after he’s dropped me off, if you’d like?”

“Only if he wants to, Caroline,” Esther replied. “I have a feeling he only came today because you were interested. Niklaus will do what Nikaus wants, and nothing more.”

“Okay then, we better get going then,” Caroline said with a bright, charming smile. “Thank you so much for having us. You wait until I tell the girls at school what they missed because they had plans!”

Klaus bid his mother goodbye, and the two were off.

“You should win an academy award for that performance, Ms Forbes,” Klaus quipped.

“That’s because it’s not untrue!” Caroline said to him, as they both clambered into the car. “You’ve been a horrible influence on me! Since the start of semester, every week night, I’ve been in bed before ten, and every weekend I’ve been in by eleven. Admittedly, it’s only nine now, but still.”

“I didn’t realise I was in such proper company,” Klaus joked.

“Oh shush, I can party after I get into college, and I have no idea what I want to do, so I’m keeping my options open.”

“So, if I call on you for a party the moment you finish finals, I can be sure of party animal Caroline in full force.”

“You sure can, Klaus, and that’s a promise.”

Klaus smirked, as he started the drive back to the Salvatore house. He fully intended to collect on that promise.

“So, what do you want to drink?” Caroline asked, when they arrived back.

“Whatever you’re having love,” Klaus said.

“I don’t think I’ll have any,” she said, before winking. “I don’t need alcohol to have fun.”

“I’m sure you don’t, sweetheart,” Klaus said. “But it sure can help get the fun started.”

“Yeah, I know,” Caroline said. “But, I meant what I said to you earlier. I’ve been really bad this week. It’s been so fun with you, but I want to at least be able to look my parents in the face tomorrow and not have to lie about boozing all night tonight.”

“Right you are, love,” Klaus smiled. “Not an enviable task I’m sure; lying to the sheriff.”

“Do you want something to eat?” Caroline asked, striding into the kitchen. “The food at the party was lovely, but it sure was small.”

Klaus chuckled, he knew what she meant. Finger food was always the choice of snack for that sort of party.

“We came back to have our own party,” Klaus replied. “So party food is always a good start.”

Klaus was leaning against the kitchen bench when Caroline pulled out some ingredients to make grilled cheese sandwiches for them both.

When they polished off the sandwiches, Klaus looked at Caroline, his head tilted to the side.

“What now?” he asked her.

“Are you sure you don’t want a drink?” she checked.

“My eyes will be as open as yours, Caroline.”

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

“That could be nice,” he replied, though he noticed an unfamiliar, but exciting glint in her eyes.

“Or we could do something else,” Caroline said, as she pushed herself off the counter to looped her fingers though his belt loops and pulled him closer to her.

Klaus settled his hands on her waist, his mouth a little dry, and his heart pounded a somewhat faster. She was looking at him with such determination, and any resolve he pretending to have wavered.

And then she pressed her soft lips to his, and it completely crumbled.

When Klaus would replay that night in his head, as he secretly would many times in the years to come, he would always edit in a pause, where he showed some semblance of restraint, where he didn’t kiss back straight away.

But in reality, so lost was he in instant euphoria, he fell headlong into the moment.

He brought his hands up to cup her face, pulling it even closer than it already was. He tilted his head to the other side to open his mouth, and deepen the kiss.

For the intensity of the moment, it was still quite innocent.

After a few more seconds, Caroline pulled away, her nose and cheeks delightfully rose coloured, her pupils dilated.

She sucked her lips a little nervously, and looked at him through her long lashes. She ran her hands down his arms to interlock her fingers with his. Without saying a word, unable to get enough, he placed a few chaste kisses to her lips.

“Klaus,” she said, her voice laden. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

He softly, playfully, ran his nose up the side of her face, until his eyes met hers, he smiled faintly, and nodded.

Caroline used their linked hands to lead Klaus from the kitchen, up the stairs, stopping at her bedroom door.

“Are you sure, Caroline?” Klaus asked.

“Are you?” she replied.

“Yes.”

The word hung between them, signing away any plausibly deniability. But they were both too wrapped in each other to quite mind.

Caroline opened the door, and let him in.

For the first time since Caroline kissed him, Klaus was curious to the world beyond her. He had never been into her room before, in all the years he’d been in and out of that house.

It was tastefully decorated, of course it was, and had such an eclectic mix of trinkets and doo-dads from Caroline’s life. A photo of her, Elena, and Bonnie as young girls, a souvenir model of the Eiffel Tower, a figurine of Harry Potter, her Miss Mystic Falls trophy. It was such a study in Caroline, and he felt his heart clench at the thought that beyond tomorrow, he would no longer be able to study her.

As Klaus appraised her room, Caroline appraised herself in her mirror. She noted her extra flushed complexion, and her mildly smudged make up. She noticed her slender shoulders, and how striking she actually looked. She wondered how Klaus saw her.

As she gazed upon herself, she wondered if this was the right thing to do. She had always imagined having sex for the first time with someone she loved, or at least someone she was in a relationship with. Klaus was neither of those things.

Sure, she fancied him a bit. And had for a long time, but in the way girls tended to do about their older siblings’ friends. She’d fancied Damon’s friend Ric for a while as well, didn’t mean she wanted to sleep with him.

She wasn’t sure what it was about Klaus, but she wanted him.

Plus, she was sick of pretending. Half the people at school thought she’d slept with Matt, and the other half thought it was Tyler. Even Bonnie and Elena just assumed she had. They never really asked her, more wrapped up in their own drama. And it was always something she was too awkward about to correct.

With both Matt and Tyler, they’d done some stuff, but Caroline had never felt comfortable enough with them or with herself, to want to take that next step.

But with Klaus, boy, she wanted it. She had been aching for him all week. In a way she hadn’t before. And she may not have had sex, but she knew how to help herself out thank you very much – and she had.

The long and short of it all was, she was ready. She wanted it to be this way. It may not have matched the picture in her head, but it felt better. And that, more than anything, steeled her resolve that this was what she wanted.

She turned away from the mirror, and faced him.

“So,” she said.

“So,” he repeated.

He moved toward her, and placed his hands on her bare shoulders, gently rubbing his palm back and forward over the exposed skin.

She leaned up to catch his lips once more, this time a little more passionately than the last.

Klaus responded instantly, sliding his hands from her shoulders to begin exploring the curves of her waist, and butt.

Caroline began walking them backward, until they hit the bed, and she pulled him on top of her. Being horizontal with him, on her bed, amped up the ever rising excitement in her, and she couldn’t help the pushing herself up to alleviate some of the pressure.

“That felt nice,” she murmured to him, between kisses.

They remained in that position for a while, Caroline not particularly sure how to progress things along, but also not wanting to admit this to her lover.

Though, before too long, the increasingly impatient Klaus, sat up to rid himself of his button down shirt, before settling himself on propped elbows above her.

Caroline was in total awe of his body. In high school, Klaus had never had a dad-bod or anything, but has also never been particularly jacked. But the man above her now was toned and defined in an incredibly alluring way.

Before she could stop herself, Caroline was running her hands softly over his skin, trying to commit to memory every dip and crevice in his body.

“Sorry,” she said shyly, when she shook herself out of the stupor.

“I am yours tonight, Caroline,” he replied, his eyes hungry for her. “Explore all you want.”

Caroline smiled appreciatively at him, and briefly wondered if he knew what he was doing. But she brushed that off almost immediately. That was for future Caroline to fret about.

After a little longer exploring his body, Klaus began slowly running his hands down from her shoulders again, though this time, he caught her dress on the way down. It pulled down easily, and soon revealed Caroline’s perfect body to his eyes.

“You are a picture, Caroline,” he said, with a strangled note to his voice, as he took in the matching red lace strapless bra and panties.

Caroline smiled, a little abashed by the look in his eyes. Though buoyed by it also, Caroline reached for the zip of his pants, and undid it. Rather than awkwardly wriggle under him to make her attempt with her hands, Caroline laid back down and brought her flexible legs upward, locking her dainty toes into the waistband of the pants. She deftly manoeuvred the pants down his legs enough that he could simply shake them off himself.

She internally congratulated herself on that move. She’d seen it once in an adult movie she watched, and she was stoked that she managed to do it without it being completely awkward.

Now both almost completely naked, they resumed their kissing, though this time everything became a little more frenzied. Both of them were losing the little self-control they had, their skin rubbing together intoxicatingly. They only paused when Caroline rid herself of her bra, leaving her breasts to bounce freely.

Klaus immediately cupped with mounds with his coarse hands, further tightening the spring in Caroline’s abdomen. He honestly didn’t think he’d ever touched such perfect breasts before, and it was driving him wild.

Klaus changed positions and suddenly he was kissing himself down her body, before he went to place an open mouthed kiss on the apex of her thighs through her underwear.

“What are you doing?” she asked, a little alarmed by this turn of events.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Klaus replied, instantly looking guilty. All the girls he’d tried this on with had been like putty in his hands. “I thought you might like…”

“Umm, I guess,” she said, self-consciously, turning bright red. “No one has ever…”

She left the sentence hanging, and looked just about anywhere than at his face between her legs.

“I don’t have to, Caroline,” he said, trying to calm her unease. “But if you want me to, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

“Do I have… to um… I guess…” she said, stumbling for the way she could say what she wanted. “Will you want the same?”

“I don’t know who you’ve been sleeping with, Caroline,” Klaus chuckled, completely missing the guilty look Caroline’s face. “But I will not make you do anything you don’t want to do. And I won’t even hold your own pleasure to ransom for it. There’s no fun in that for me.”

“Oh, okay, I guess I…” she started, still not quite sure what she wanted. “Can you… umm… do your thing… for a bit, then we see?”

Klaus nodded. Though, before he went back to his task, he crawled back up her body, and kissed her lightly on the mouth, looking deeply into her eyes.

“You’re beautiful, Caroline,” he whispered. “Just relax, and make sure you tell me what you want. I’m not some high school jock solely interested in my own pleasure.”

He winked, and kissed her again, before adding in the most diabolical voice Caroline ever heard, “I’m very interested in your pleasure too.”

That was enough to halt her embarrassment, and have her spring coiling again. There was something particularly sexy about someone wanting her pleasure, as well as their own.

She caught herself briefly pondering whether Klaus would spoil her for boys her own age, but before she could explore that thought any more, the thought was whipped from her mind, as Klaus hooked his fingers into her strappy panties, left her bare in front of him, and placed his mouth on the heat between her legs.

It felt quite unlike anything she had experienced before

He kissed at her a few times, before he started flicking his tongue back and forward over her clitoris. It was fire. He slowly added one of his fingers into her, then two, pulling them in and out at an increasing pace. She couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped her mouth.

“Klaus,” Caroline asked, after a few minutes, her voice a lot more strangled with want than last she spoke. “I want you now, I think.”

Klaus had never heard anything sexier in his life, and he was all too willing to abide. He gave only a few more thrusts of his fingers, before he pulled them out, and finally pulled his own underwear off.

With both bodies now completely nude, the tension in the room buzzed up a notch.

Klaus settled himself back over her, and kissed her, hard.

Caroline could now reach his cock. And reach it she did. She took it into her hand and began to stroke up and down, imagining with each stroke that he was pumping into her.

“Condom?” Klaus asked, trying his absolute utmost to be responsible, when all he wanted to do was thrust into her, consequences be damned.

She scrambled from the bed, and went into her en suite, to pull out a couple of the little foil packets.

As she crossed back to him, he grabbed at her waist to pull her down onto him as quickly as possible, and he began attacking her lips again. They lost themselves in that for a moment before Caroline pressed the condom into Klaus’ hand.

He moved off her and onto his back, to tear the packet open, and remove the item. He reached down to roll the latex over himself, then rolled back so he was bearing over her once more.

Caroline’s breathing hitched with every breath, anticipation sizzling every part of her body. Klaus reached between them to grab his cock, and guided it toward her opening. He teased her a little with it, running the tip of his penis along her folds, until she mewled for more.

Delicately, Klaus began to push into her. He pushed slowly, centimetre by centimetre, until she fully gloved him.

“You feel…” she said, barely able to get the words out. “Amazing.”

“God, Caroline,” he said, nearly embarrassed at how desperate he was to move in her. “This is incredible.”

“Move, Klaus, please.”

Only too happy to obliged, Klaus pulled himself from her and slid back in, with more speed that the last time. Then he went again, quicker still.

Soon, Klaus was set in a steady rhythm, and Caroline couldn’t believe what she was feeling. She clung to him, and was astounded to feel herself wanting more and more. Her hands made their way to his muscular ass and gripped it. She found if she used her grip on his butt to push him further into her, they both let out moans of pleasure

She found her breathing grow a bit ragged, as she studied Klaus face, his brow furrowed, his mouth slightly open from the pleasure.

“Caroline,” Klaus said, his voice strained. “I’m going to come.”

She couldn’t help but gasp at the pure need in his voice, then again when she felt the twitch from his cock as he came into her.

They both lay there panting for a few moments, and Caroline couldn’t believe what had just happened.

He kissed her tenderly, before easing himself out of her. He got up and padded into her bathroom, to dispose of the condom, but was back as soon as he could. He felt the loss of her body instantly.

Caroline smiled shyly at him again, like she had earlier in the night.

“Sorry I didn’t…,” she said, once again not finding the right words. “You know… come for you.”

Klaus’ face twisted, a little bit in embarrassment, little bit in sympathy, but mostly in amusement for her innocent remark.

“Caroline, I would have been more offended if you had faked it,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. “I should be apologising for not helping you get there.”

“I don’t really know how to get there,” she admitted in a whisper. She never admitted it out loud before, and she was mortified with herself that she had then.

But Klaus smiled understandingly at her.

“I don’t think that’s uncommon,” he said. “And practice makes perfect, right?”

She laughed, and swatted at him. She was also a little bit in awe that he had made her feel comfortable about something that had brought her such anxiety.

“Also, again, you’re sleeping with the wrong people if they don’t help you practice.”

Caroline blushed, and covered it by kissing him. She didn’t know why she was too embarrassed to tell Klaus this was her first time, when she so obviously gave him pleasure. But she just decided it was too much to share, she didn’t know if she would be able to if she tried.

���How about I get us a snack, and then we kiss some more?” he said, playfully, as he sprung out of bed to find something to cover himself. 

When he left the room a minute later in nothing but a towel, Caroline relaxed back to stare at the ceiling.

Unsure of how to feel.

Her body was still buzzing in the after glow, and she thought, even though she hadn’t had one of those really loud, body shaking orgasms she had seen the few times she watched porn, she’d also read enough articles about first times to know that this one had been a pretty special one.

By the time Klaus was back, chocolate bars and cups of tea in hand, Caroline had regained her most of her faculties, and she grinned at him.

“Well that was fun,” she said, as he handed her one of the mugs.

“That it was,” Klaus replied, chinking his mugs to hers. “Repeat?”

“When?” Caroline laughed.

The mood shifted slightly, both of them immediately a little uncomfortable with the question that had been chasing them all week.

What happens next?

“I’m not sure,” Klaus said, looking down at the drink in his hand.

“Me neither,” Caroline replied.

They were an absurd picture, Caroline was sure; a young couple, sitting completely naked, in silent awkwardness, drinking tea from dainty china cups.

“I don’t want to pretend this never happened,” Caroline confessed. How could she pretend? “But I understand if you do. Because of… you know… Stefan, and I’m in high school, or whatever.”

Caroline lips were tight, and her jaw was set, Klaus knew it was hard for her to say, and he appreciated it. But honestly, he didn’t know what he wanted to do.

“We did complicate things a little, didn’t we?”

“Yep,” she replied, popping the p audibly.

“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” Klaus posited, an underlying question in his voice.

“It doesn’t?” Caroline asked, raising her eyebrow.

“The age thing isn’t weird, especially since your brother dated your best friend and you had to be okay with it?” Klaus said, remembering the awful time throughout their final year of high school and first year of college when Stefan and Elena dated.

“Oh yeah, because I could ever have made Elena realise it was totally weird for me,” Caroline scoffed. “I love her, but she has got no self-awareness, and frankly no concept of a world not revolving around her.”

“Yes, I can imagine if you told her about this… about us, she would go all hysterical at you, all distraught about how I’m the reason she and Stefan broke up,” Klaus laughed.

“You’re so right, she hates you, I forgot!”

“Yes, and Bonnie doesn’t like me much either,” Klaus noted.

“Oh my god, I wish she would get over that! You and Stefan played one prank on her, and she will never let it me, or anyone else, forget it!”

“I’m still not sure how Stefan has been cleared of all charges, and yet I am still in the dog house after three years!” Klaus exclaimed. “Speaking of Stefan…”

“Honestly, he’s a wild card,” Caroline said. “He’s usually pretty understanding, but sometimes is a totally over protective ass, you know.”

“I can imagine he would avenge your innocence in subtle ways,” Klaus said. “Like would drop into random conversations with ethical questions about dating their friend’s siblings.”

“Yeah, probably,” Caroline giggled. “Imagine Elijah! ‘Niklaus! I used to babysit that girl!’”

“Yes! And ‘you are far too brutish for a sweet girl like, Caroline,’!” Klaus added. “Oh and think of Rebekah.”

“How could you sleep with my brother!” Caroline cried, in a high pitched, mock-English accent, imitating Rebekah. “How could you sleep with my ex, Bekah, if we want to get into the weeds on the girl code.”

“Bekah and Matt have slept together?” Klaus asked, sharply.

“Oh come on Klaus,” Caroline chided. “Given the conversation we’re having, maybe we not judge your sister for anything she wants.”

“There’s the rub though, sweetheart,” Klaus said, sadly. “That’s how the judgement will happen.”

“Does it matter?” Caroline asked, trying not to sound hurt.

“I don’t know,” Klaus said, honestly. “But rest assured you won’t be my dirty little secret. I refuse to let something I enjoyed so much be something I feel guilty about.”

There was such conviction in his voice that Caroline could have cried. And she did have to take a few deep breaths to stop the tears from visibly springing to her eyes. 

“Okay,” she said, decisively. “We won’t tell people, but we won’t lie if asked. That seems okay right?”

“Seems fair,” he replied, as he put his arm around her shoulders and drew her closer to her, and placed a gentle kiss to her mouth.

“And leaves it open for something else in the future,” she winked.

“Now that,” Klaus said, genuinely smiling. “Would be my pleasure.”

Caroline smiled back at him, and kissed him again, feeling content with their conversation.

It wasn’t until the next afternoon, when Liz and Giuseppe returned home, and thanked Klaus for being company for Caroline while they were away, did Caroline fully comprehend the feeling of sadness that was mixed in with the contentment.

“I’ll see you out,” Caroline said to Klaus, as he grabbed his bag and headed for the door.

“Chin up, my love,” Klaus said, nudging her with his elbow. “We don’t need your parents thinking I’m a bad babysitter. They’ll never ask me here again.”

“I had a really great time this week,” Caroline said, earnestly, as he packed his bag into the boot of his car.

“As did I, Caroline,” he replied. “I am looking forward to when you’re in college, maybe you’ll join me and Stefan. It would be nice to have you around.”

Caroline glowed a little from the compliment.

“And in any case, perhaps, when you’re done with senior year, and that party animal you promised me comes out to play,” Klaus said, cheekily. “Maybe you will invite me for one of your events.”

Caroline grinned at him, before wrapping her arms around him for a hug.

“I’ll see you,” she murmured.

“Thank you, Caroline.”

And with that, he was slipping into the front of his car and was driving off, leaving Caroline to just wave at his tail lights as he went.

xxx

Let me know what you think!!!

[soulangel]

Drinks and Kisses-Ravn

Summary: Hanging out with your friends is normally an excellent way to celebrate or forget troubles for a night. Somehow this time, your best friend and you have managed to find out the truth of each other’s feelings.

Group: Oneus’ Rav x fem!reader 

Genre: fluff, amusements, hint of steam

Warnings: There are a couple swear words in here, along with a small, steamy kissing scene (probably not idk it’s up to you)

Masterlist     Oneus Masterlist

    Honestly, you had no idea your friends were dragging you out for drinks. You thought it was going to be a little get together at one of their houses where you guys would drink, play games, and pass out on their couch or something. NOT going out to a crazy ass bar dressed all scantily in a short, blue cocktail dress with your heels on, being tipsy enough to flirt with people you didn’t even know. “Y/N! Come dance with us!” Your friend had called for you, pulling you away from your flirtatious friend you’d just met at the bar.

    You allowed her to drag you out to the floor where your best friend Ravn was smirking at you, his hand outstretched for you to hold onto before he pulled you close to him for the wackiest and most laugh-filled dancing you both have ever done together; and that’s saying something. You two love being weird and crazy together, but there were times you surpassed your normal craziness. This was one of those times.

    Your arms snaked around his neck and you both laughed happily as you danced to the songs playing, your other friends dancing around you with their own guys they either found or brought with them. “So, wanna get completely drunk tonight?” You asked him with a smirk, tilting your head toward the bar where there was a line starting to form.

    He gave you a frown, letting you know just by his posture alone that he wasn’t happy with where your thoughts were turning. You were never good when you were completely drunk, one of the reasons he had your friend pull you away from the bar. (Not at ALL because of the guy you were flirting with who seemed to be inching closer to you every word you spoke to him.) “I don’t know if I want to drink tonight. But by all means, you can drink away. I’ll be the designated driver.” He suggested, twirling you around a couple times before catching you in a dip.

    You laughed out loud at his antics and grinned up at him, scrunching your nose a little while he lifted you up to set you rightly on your feet. You both then made your way to the bar where he immediately bought you two shots and a regular alcoholic beverage to get you buzzing. Of course you made him take the shot with you at least before he completely shut down all attempts of drinking for the night. Since after that shot he asked the bartender for a glass of water and made sure to tell her that he was the designated driver for the two of you. She seemed to like the comment and gave him a nod in appreciation, even going so far as to thank him for telling her. You on the other hand were busy sipping on the other glass beverage you had, smiling happily to yourself in your own little world.

    You were starting to have fun the more drunk you got throughout the night, to the point the rest of your friends, save for Ravn, had all decided they were planning on going home. Ravn had to stay with you so you wouldn’t do absolutely stupid in your drunk state, and did everything in his power to make sure you weren’t a complete disaster everywhere you stepped on the floor and by the bar. “Have you had enough yet? I want to go home and sleep.” He whined for the 10th time in maybe 20 minutes.

    You tried your best to keep a straight face as you stared into his brown orbs, frowning the smallest amount to keep up appearances. “But...but…” You started, glancing around for a moment to see how empty it was getting in the bar anyway.

    Ravn smirked a little as your resolve started to crumble, practically sensing that you were going to be agreeing with him soon enough. He grabbed your coat and purse for you, helping you into the coat and sliding the purse onto your shoulder. He then wrapped that arm around his waist and his arm around your shoulder, guiding you out the door as you stumbled over yourself just the smallest amount.

    You both were able to walk maybe 20 feet away from the bar before you were whining about your feet hurting. “If you weren’t dancing and falling over every 5 seconds, they wouldn’t hurt so much.” Ravn replied with a snicker, flinching a little when you swatted his shoulder and pouted up at him.

    He stopped the both of you for a second and you continued pouting. “Oppaaaaaaaa. Can’t we just get a cab or something?” You whined as he turned to you for a second, seeing how you were truly doing at the moment.

    He sighed and gave a very sarcastic chuckle, yes you could tell-you know his quirks extraordinarily well, and shook his head a little. “You silly girl, don’t you remember we drove here? We’re walking to the car now.” He laughed finally, shaking due to his laughter while you just stared at him wide eyed.

    You blushed at the fact that you’d forgotten you drove here with him and grumbled softly, crossing your arms in a childish manner. He then unlocked the car that was directly in front of you and opened the passenger door, sweeping his arm toward it in a fake and grand way for you. It took you a couple seconds to see that it was the car you came in; you even ended up blinking a couple times to focus on the car before stepping towards it slowly. “We were in front of it and you didn’t say anything? Rude.” You grumbled, scrunching your nose at him with a small smile as you slipped into the seat and immediately put your seatbelt on.

    Luckily you were what people would call a functioning drunk, able to make your body cooperate semi-well as you’re under the influence of alcohol. You also were more paranoid and like a mother hen to everyone making sure they got home safely and telling them they’d better tell you when they got home, and the best one? asking Ravn consistently whether or not you both got in the correct car and if he knew where you were going. Now, just because you are able to function properly, doesn’t mean you’d remember some of the stuff you said and did...that’s the downside to all the liquor you can handle.

          xXx

    Your nose scrunched at the feeling of something brushing against it. Your head twitched. “Ssshhhh it’s okay Y/N, go to sleep.” Someone whispered to you, touching your sides and legs.

    Instead of listening to the person like your tired brain wanted, you screamed and flailed around, half wondering why you weren’t able to move your body and half wondering who was talking to you. “What-who-where-” “Y/N! It’s me, it’s Youngjo!” Your friend shouted at you, trying to make sure you didn’t fall and hurt yourself.

   You blinked your eyes open and looked at him, wide eyed and freaked out. “What happened?! I remember getting in the car and that’s it!” You yelled while looking down at your body, checking yourself over.

    Ravn flushed crimson as you continued to feel yourself up for your clothes and quickly tripped over his feet in the rush to sit next to you. One leg slipped out underneath him and he fell forward, crashing into you and accidentally slamming his lips against yours. You both fell back onto the couch with him landing on top of you, catching his weight on his left hand pressing into the armrest of the couch. He immediately stood up off the couch and left for the kitchen, stuttering out a loud apology.

    You just sat there for a minute, fingers to your lips and a small blush on your face as you thought through the events that just transpired. Your best friend, and crush of about 3 years, finally kissed you. Even if it was an accident, it was still amazing. You giggled a little at the thought and stood up straight stumbling only a little as you were apparently still tipsy. You giggled louder as you stumbled into his kitchen, watching him as he paced the kitchen in a panic.

    The moment he saw you in the doorway he gasped and rushed over to you, staying far enough away he wouldn’t touch you, but close enough to talk to you like a normal person. “Oh fuck. Jeez, damn, I’m so sorry Y/N! I seriously didn’t mean to kiss you. Please don’t be mad at-mmmph!”

    In the middle of his rambling you managed to press your hands to his cheeks and lean in quickly to kiss him. He tensed up for a moment as he felt the kiss before slowly relaxing into your hands, feeling your thumbs stroking his cheeks. You smiled into the kiss and took a step closer, hands trailing down his face, down his neck, and around his shoulders to wrap around his neck. He gently bit your bottom lip and took the last step toward you, his own arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you as close as he could. You opened your mouth the slightest bit and immediately felt his tongue stroking yours. His hands gripped you tighter as he bit your bottom lip, slowly pulling away from the kiss.

    After the kiss ended, he leaned back a little to stare at you wide eyed, mouth opening to say something. “U-Uh that was…”You pulled him back down to you and kissed him again, giggling at his response. “Yeah, it was. I like you a lot Youngjo. Enough to want to keep doing it, over and over again.” You said, a lot more serious than you felt as you were internally giggling at yourself at the stupidity of how you confessed.

    His eyes stayed wide open as he looked at you. “W-What? But….” He stuttered, his arms falling from your waist.

    You frowned a little and was about to step away from him when he wrapped his arms back around you and twirled you around, making you squeal out loud. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words!!!! We’re going out tomorrow. Tomorrow, on a real date, and no drinking.” He told you seriously, putting you down and sticking a finger in your face.

   To spite him, you gently bit his finger and then pouted when he pulled his hand quickly away. “Hey! That’s not nice.” He mumbled with a pout, watching as you just smirked and winked at him.

    His face turned at least 50 shades of red.

~~~~~

Taglist: @kimgeonhak​

[doof-doofblog]

"I Want Him Here With Me, With Us!"

Tuesday 2nd June 2020

Good evening everyone! As promised here is the second post of the day following up from tonight's episode. Just want to say thank you to those who like my posts, it keeps me going and I enjoy writing for you all. We all know how epic last night's episode was, I've been looking forward to seeing tonight's episode. Ooh it was quite a packed episode tonight, feel like there might be a bit to cover.

Right so let's start with Ruby, today was the day she was moving into her own place. For the past few episodes now she and Martin have been flirting non-stop, in front of Max also. It's only right for Max to feel uncomfortable and angry. He's tried to go along with the "open-relationship" arrangement that Ruby wanted, but he's found it incredibly hard watching Ruby get close to Martin. I don't think I really understand why they both have it in for each other, is it mainly because they have both been in love with the same woman - i.e Stacey! Now there's a second woman that they're both interested in, only happens to be Stacey's best friend! Is it nuts, or is it just me? I don't think anything like that would happen in real life! But then again, who am I to know? I do kinda feel sorry for Max, he's being playing along to Ruby's tune for a while now, trying to please her and excite her, woo her, even make sure her club wasn't full of drug dealers, but it's as if she's not interested. I'm sure she just said that she wants a bit of fun! But to full on admit that she actually wants to take a chance with Martin, that must've been a kick in the gut for him! It's a shame, I feel Max has been very unlucky in the love with the amount of women he's been with on the square, some people believe Stacey was his one true love, I happen to believe it was Tanya. Him and Ruby, it wasn't going to last was it?

Uh-oh ... so Ben's ear had been bleeding while he slept ... off topic a second, but can I just say the way that Callum was looking at Ben while he slept was incredibly cute! ... Anyway, due to events happening the night before, Ben has been left with complete hearing loss - the blood has happened because of the gun shot which Danny shot so close to Ben's good ear. To me it seems as if Callum isn't aware as yet, but it's only a matter of time. When Jack told him about the robbery job at Stratford, Callum instantly thought of Ben. He knew he was away that night, Ben told him he had spent the night with Lexi, but was he telling the truth? We as viewers know he's not, but after showing a video of him and Lexi together, Callum was so apologetic to his boyfriend. It's true Ben has had a bit of a reputation in the past, and there is always a chance he could go back to doing dodgy work, but Callum seemed so relieved and believed his boyfriend was telling the truth. I have a horrible feeling things are going to turn upsetting once he finds out the truth. I think the only way Callum will find out will be down to Ben's hearing loss, he'll come to realise that Ben is completely deaf and I think he'll try to find out how and why. That scene between Sharon and Callum, I found it quite a good one, Callum was clearly asking for advice about how to handle being in a relationship with someone and yet knowing they get up to no good, Sharon explained to him that he just has to trust Ben, he loves him and that should be enough, regardless of what Ben may get involved in, he loves him and he would never see him come to harm. Awww, how lovely was it to see Frankie back! I believe that we will start to see her more and more in the next few episodes, Ben will begin to struggle even more with his complete hearing loss, will he eventually tell Callum the truth and will they go to Frankie for help? Could Frankie be able to show Ben the ways of living complete deafness? Either way I'm looking forward to seeing more from her, I think she's a brilliant character to have a in a soap, I'm kinda hoping they make her a regular, and not just for a small stint in Ben's story-line, could she become a regular if the viewers love her?!

Does anyone else feel sorry for Tiffany also? Keegan hadn't spoken a word to her all day, ignored her calls and left the house before she woke up and didn't leave her a note or a message. It's true Keegan hasn't had much luck over the past few months, but digging his head in the sand and claiming defeat is not going to help the situation. Tiffany has done everything she can to support him and he's given her nothing back in return, nothing but grief, telling her that she doesn't understand, even though she's doing everything in her power to try and understand her husband and be there to support him. In tonight's episode we saw Tiff open up to Denise about how things are going in their relationship, she admitted it has been hard and that Keegan barely acknowledges her now. Denise praised her for sticking by him and urged her not to give up. Only to then find Keegan a while later, and he told he was leaving with his Mum, without her. I feel like Keegan is being selfish right now, why would he do that to her? Tiffany was clearly heartbroken, after everything they've both been through, why would he leave her in the lurch? Would he really have left and not told her if he hadn't seen her?!

Which brings me to the next topic of Karen leaving, it was kinda obvious that they wouldn't leave. Something was bound to happen, Sharon would not have been able to be stay away from her son, knowing full well he was due to leave the square, with the chance of her never seeing him again. But what does this mean for Tiffany now? Now Karen has been asked to stay, does that mean Keegan will still go on his own? Or have his plans to leave now been ruined and will he have to stay and face the music to? I don't know how quickly that will be forgotten but how will Tiffany be able to forgive him for preparing to up and leave without her? I'm happy Sharon finally saw sense and asked Karen to stay. Through out the whole episode, you knew Sharon was battling with her thoughts about what do about Kayden, I kept thinking "Will she?", "Won't She?" ... Part of me is thinking that she's doing it for Dennis, after finding the cuddly toy that was found in Dennis's belongings, she's done a complete U-turn and come to the conclusion that Dennis would not have wanted her to do this, he would've wanted her to give the young child an amazing life, just as she gave him! But now, what does it mean for both her and Phil? The look on Phil's face was far from happy ... it was anger, disgust ... purely due to the fact that it's another man's baby. How is Phil going to cope bringing up another man's child? It was the reason they split up in the first place, is Phil going to buy Sharon the Vic and let her live in there with Kayden and that will be it? I'm curious if Phil will be able to get past the fact that it's Keanu's child. He loves Sharon, and she loves him, the only thing that will come between them is baby Kayden. I'm intrigued as to what may happen next, will Phil learn to live with it? Who knows? Will Sharon even end up in the Vic? I feel like it was an obvious twist but an interesting one also, there are still many of people involved when it comes to baby Kayden ... Ben, Phil, Karen, Sharon, Kathy, Ian - how is Kayden staying with Sharon going to affect everyone? I get the feeling some will be happy, some not so much!

Thanks again everyone for taking your time to read my blog. Sadly we have wait yet another week for more of our favourite soap. It's been a dramatic week and there are so many questions going around in my head of which direction each story-line could go! I'm really excited to see more and I hope you're just excited as I am! Keep yourself safe everyone and look after yourselves. I'll be back again next Monday. Goodnight folks! Thank you again! xXx

[maaaaaatryoshka0325]

Tourniquet - Han Jisung Gang AU Part 6

(Part1) (Part2) (Part3) (Part4) (Part5) (Part7) (Part8) (Part9)

“Jisung... What happened to your lip?” You asked.

“W-What?” He asked.

Despite it being dark, you could see a bruise at the corner of his mouth.

“Is that a bruise?” You asked.

“It’s nothing.” He said.

“It’s clearly not nothing.” You pointed out, reaching your hand out.

He grabbed your wrist and you flinched. His eyes widened as he looked at your hand, which was close to his face. You felt his grip loosen as he held your wrist.

“What happened?” You asked.

“I was uh... Rough housing with the guys.” He said.

You reached your fingers out a little more and softly rubbed the spot that was bruised. He closed his eyes as your soft fingers caressed the area.

“You guys should be more careful when messing around.” You said.

 His big eyes brightened as he looked down at you.

“Awe, are you worried about me?” He asked.

“Shut up, jerk.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes.

He smiled at you and looked around.

“Are you walking home?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You replied, looking at him.

“Alone? This late?” He asked.

“Nothing bad has happened.” You said.

“That doesn’t mean something WON’T happen.” He pointed out.

“Awe, are you worried about me?” You mocked his voice.

He rolled his eyes and turned away from you, walking towards your apartment.

“So what if I am?” He asked lowly.

Your face turned red as you followed him, walking beside him. The smell of his cologne hit your nose and you couldn’t help but feel a bit better. He was quiet as he walked, seemingly lost in thought.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“Yeah, why?” He asked, looking at you with a smile.

“You never answered me or showed up to school, and when I see you, you have a bruise on your lip, “You pointed out. “And you’re being really quiet.”

“Sorry mom.” He teased, sticking his tongue out.

You rolled your eyes and he let out a small laugh.

“No but really, I’m fine. I was just busy, no need to worry about me.” He said with a big smile.

When you got to your apartment he ruffled your hair.

“Goodnight Y/N.” He said with a smile.

“Goodnight Jisung. Don’t forget to let me know if you got home okay.” You said a little firmly.

“Alright mom.” He laughed, sticking his tongue out at you.

You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out back before heading into your apartment after he had walked away. You quickly showered and plopped on your couch, putting a movie on. You were engrossed in the movie when your phone went off and you saw a text from Jisung.

Jisung: I’m home now mom, you don’t have to worry ;P

You: Good. I’ll see you in school tomorrow?

Jisung: Oh now I HAVE to go to school? You’re killing me, mom.

You: Shut up, idiot.

Jisung: Haha, Goodnight Y/N.

You: Goodnight, Jisung.

You smiled at your phone and continued to watch the movie as your eyes began to feel heavy as you drifted off.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It hurts. Everything hurts. I’ve lost everything, and everyone I love. I can’t move, I can’t breathe, I can’t do anything. My back stings. My bones ache. What did I do to deserve this? Why am I still alive? I’m better off dead. Please, please just end this already.

You woke up to your alarm going off and you stretched. You groaned as your neck hurt from sleep on the couch. You quickly washed up and headed out the door, when you realized, you still had Jisung’s book bag. You picked it up and grunted when you realized how heavy it was.

You: I still have your book bag.

Jisung: Good shit, I was just looking for it. Do you want me to stop over and grab it? You: Nah, I can bring it. I’ll see you there.

Jisung: Ok.

You made your way, grunting and heaving, with both book bags. When you made it to the courtyard of the school, Jisung was standing there. He was clad in a leather jacket with a white T-shirt underneath, and tight black ripped jeans with a chain hanging from one side. 

He turned around and laughed when he saw you dragging yourself with both bags.

“I told you I could come and get mine.” He laughed, grabbing it and slinging it over his shoulder.

His hair was parted that day, and it made his face much more handsome than usual.

“No point in walking an extra 20 minutes.” You pointed out, huffing to catch your breath.

He softly stroked your hair and smiled at you.

“Thank you.” He said.

Your heart skipped a beat and you turned away to hide your red face.

“Do you wanna do something after classes? Maybe go to the cafe and then see a movie?” He asked.

‘U-Um, sure.” You said with a smile.

His eyes brightened again as he waved you off before heading to class.

XXXX

You finished your assignment for Korean just before the class, as you had a free study period right before hand. You handed it in and sat at your desk as Minchul walked by.

“I see you handed in your assignment, I’m glad you got it done in time.” He said with a smile.

“Me too.” You laughed.

He sat next to you and took out his notes.

“Mind if I stay here?” He asked.

“Oh, no problem.” You said, trying to be nice.

“I don’t know when I got lazy, but man, have I been slacking.” He said.

“Oh me too. I just recently started procrastinating with assignments.” You said.

“Really? I try and push myself hard to do them, but it usually takes me DAYS instead of hours to do it.” He laughed.

“I wait until last second and stress that I won’t have enough time.” You laughed.

“Man, that IS stressful.” He said.

“You’re telling me, I’ll be confident I won’t procrastinate like that again, and I end up doing it anyways.” You giggled.

He laughed and shook his head. He was pretty easy to converse with, which you found odd. You never thought you’d be friends with the class president, as the way he made himself out to be, but he was actually pretty cool.

“What are you doing after classes? Wanna go to a cafe?” He asked.

“Oh, I actually have plans today.” You said.

“Oh, maybe next time.” He said with a smile.

You nodded and walked out of Korean. You felt something hit the back of your head, and Hyunjin approached you.

“Listen Y/N, I’m sorry for being a jerk the other day. It was rude and uncalled for.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I forgive you.” You said, sticking your tongue out.

He rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Good.” Is all he said as he walked away.

You felt a hand ruffle your hair, and you looked over to see Chan.

‘Oh, hey Chan.” You greeted.

“Hey Y/N. Since when are you friends with Minchul?” He asked.

“I don’t know, he’s just been nice to me since I’ve gotten here and even more so recently.” You said. “Why?”

“No reason, he just didn’t seem like the type you’d hangout with. He’s so flashy and you’re the opposite.” He said.

“Yeah, I didn’t think he and I would get along either. He’s really nice though.” You said with a shrug.

“That’s good.” He said with a smile.

XXXX

After classes you met Jisung in the courtyard. He smiled at you as you approached him.

“Lets drop our bags off at Changbin’s, then we’ll head over to the cafe and then the theater.” He said.

You nodded as you followed him to Changbin’s. He took your bag and dropped it off inside, insisting it’ll only take a second. You quickly took your smaller bag and rolled some perfume on. He came back out, his eyes shining as he beckoned you to follow.

You both walked around the city as you approached the cafe and ordered drinks, and a few cakes. You quickly paid as he was looking at something else, and when he noticed, he pouted as you both sat at a booth.

“Hey, girls shouldn’t pay.” He said.

“Don’t pout, a simple thank you will do.” You giggled.

He rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He said.

“You’re welcome, Jisung.” You said with a smart ass tone.

He stuck his finger in one of the cakes and wiped it on your cheek. You gasped as he smirked at you before sticking his finger in his mouth.

“Ooooh, that icing is good.” He said with a smirk.

“Is it?” You asked, grabbing a hand full and smacking it on his mouth.

His eyes widened as you both looked at each other before cracking up.

“I swear, we’re such kids when we hangout.” He laughed.

“Hey, you started it.” You laughed, holding your stomach.

He shook his head as he laughed and wiped his face off. You decided to make a quick apology, since you shoved half a cake in his face. You stuck your fork into one and held it near his mouth.

“Try this one.” You said.

“You’re not gonna shove it down my throat, are  you?” He asked.

“No, just try it.” You giggled.

He took the bite off of it and chewed, his eyes glistening.

“OOOOH, that’s GOOD.” He exclaimed.

You both laughed at his reaction and finished the cakes and your drinks. You both walked to the theater and picked out a horror movie. You both sat down as the movie started.

You liked horror movies, you really did. But the jump scares always got you, and this movie was full of them. You jumped and squeaked and Jisung giggled every time. His hand was resting on the arm rest and you grabbed it when the worst jump scared happened. Your face turned red when you realized what you did, and you were about to let go, when he squeezed your hand.

“If you get scared you can squeeze it. Just don’t break my hand.” He giggled.

XXX

“I thought I told you NOT to break my hand. I thought you liked horror movies anyways?” Jisung pouted, holding his throbbing hand.

“I do, the jump scares just get me sometimes.” You laughed.

“Obviously. My hand can feel it.” He pouted.

“Do you want me to kiss it better?” You asked in a teasing tone.

He smirked and held his hand out, which you smacked away.

“Ow! Hey, you offered!” He complained.

“Yeah, whatever.” You huffed, your face red.

You both walked and talked, laughing as he walked you to Changbin’s to grab your stuff. 

“You were so funny when you were scared. Your color drained from your face, and you looked like the ghost in the movie.” He laughed.

“Shut up before I actually break your hand!” You laughed.

“I’m sorry, it was just too funny.” He said.

‘You wanna know what’s funny?” You asked, a playful smile on your face.

“What?” He asked, scrunching his nose as he looked at you.

“You-” 

“Well isn’t this just cute.” 

You both turned as you saw a man leaning against a light post, a crooked smile on his face as he looked at the both of you.

“I’ve been looking for you, Han Jisung.” He said.

Jisung pushed you behind him and you gave him a confused look. 

“What do you want Wooyoung?” He asked.

The man name Wooyoung chuckled and stood up all the way, his eyes narrowing.

“You know exactly what I want Jisung.” He snarled as another man appeared.

“Y/N, I need you to run, okay?” He said, looking at you.

“Jisung, what are you-”

“Just do it! Okay?” His voice was firm and you nodded as you ran, constantly looking back.

This idiot! What did he get himself into?

You ran only a few blocks away and dropped down against a wall, panting. You knew you should probably run further, but you didn’t want to leave him. You panted for a couple minutes before standing up and peeking around a building. You were anxious. What if he gets hurt? What if they kidnap him? What if they KILL him?

You bit your lip in frustration as you closed your eyes and leaned the back of your head against the wall.

“Y/N?” You heard a familair voice call for you.

You quickly walked around the building and looked around.

‘Y/N?!” You heard his voice getting louder.

“Jisung!” You called back. 

You heard fast approaching footsteps and turned around, seeing him appearing. His eyes were wide with worry as he looked at you. His nose was bleeding as he sighed in relief. He wiped his nose and walked towards you.

‘Y/N I’m so sorry-”

You cut him off as you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“Idiot... What are you getting yourself into?” You asked.

His cologne filled your senses and you closed your eyes as you buried your face into him. He wrapped his arms around you tightly buried his face into your hair.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He breathed, cradling the back of your head as he held you tightly. “I’m sorry.”

[oghoneytryst]

savior;

continuation from the sunflower. series / part 3

where a fan becomes a friend

a/n: thank u for being so patient with this. my inspiration and writing just ... hasn’t been it lately, but I'm really pushing through and i am so happy to have finished this part. honestly, we’ve got a long road ahead of us, but I will try my absolute best to drive this wild ride down.

pls let me know how you feel about this part! pls be nice b/c I'm currently in sad bitch hours :-)

also sorry that tumblr is a weirdo and made the format for text super strange, idk what to do about it but i hope it doesn’t affect anything!

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

~ Nov. 14 ~

Every digit embodies a shapely mark of intimidation; all ten, with their loops and their curves that shower in iridescence through her late morning eyes. Midnight ink saturates the sticky note’s pale yellow, tiny creases in the square body and little curls at the edges. She knows the value of this ordinary paper, and in her hands, it dances in the flame of eternal possibilities.

The pregnant woman sits on an office chair with desperation in her chest. Beneath the buttons and ruffles of her bright marigold blouse, her heart beats against her clammy skin. Heavy thighs stick to the squish of the chair, a mermaid’s tail in a muted pencil skirt. The material expands and shapes over her little bump; her growing joy; her inconvenient little bundle that she adores so much.

As a result of her punishable overthinking, she tears away the inside of her cheek, gnawing teeth at war by mindless command. In a pile of her worries, the minimal harm is at the very bottom. At the top are these ten digits that transfix her curious eyes. It isn’t as if she hasn’t considered dialing the number before. Insignificant pregnancy whines, however, cannot compare with the favor she would be asking of him now.

Without trouble, she recalls the days that had followed Harry’s visit. She recalls her tears on the couch, angry at nothing, angry at everything; the frustrating changes of her body, the awful work days. In all of her recollections, she complains to her roommate, who she admires greatly for putting up with all of her dramatics.

On the 6th, she had obsessively craved some Dippin’ Dots. It had been on the 6th that Aaron found himself arguing with a pregnant woman, a feat he had never wanted. It hadn’t mattered that such a pregnant woman had been his infuriatingly needy roommate, someone he actually does care for. He really had no trouble telling her no after her incredibly annoying behavior that afternoon.

She, of course, is never able to control her pregnant mannerisms. Yet, Aaron has always been suspicious of what she had been like prior to the bun in her oven. He has only ever known her as a woman-carrying-child in need, so perhaps during this process a lot of her personality hyphens instead of alters.

Nonetheless, her demand had been frankly impossible on the 6th. The nearest Dippin’ Dots is more than a half hour drive away from their home, and nighttime had been approaching soon. There hadn’t been a chance that Aaron would bear through Los Angeles traffic for, quote, “fucking balls of ice cream.”

So, with the fire of the sun drizzling to a bedazzling California sky, she had wept over nothing and everything at once. The timeline of her pregnancy had not made her emotions plausible. Instead, it had been the collective world turning against her on a tiring, unwelcomed day.

In the flash of a second, she had heard the ding in her fuzzy brain. The sticky note with the fruitful digits ... maybe he has some connections! Maybe he can bring us some! Do you think? If he’s not busy? What if he has a special freezer meant for his own supply of Dippin’ Dots?

It had been harmless on her part; an oh-so-bright idea crafted from a momentary desire for soft frozen food. She had been so close to make the call, if not for her dearest roommate and his not-so-delicate intervention. Aaron, the man who she believes admires Harry more than she does. With a high percentage of certitude, she knows he’d be first in line to invite the Cheshire man back to their unimpressive home. 

In truth, that had been the reason for his disapproval of ringing him up that night. He believed it to be lunacy, sharp scissors at the ready in order to cut the special ties she had somehow knotted up with Harry. The man’s exact words – in that richly Northwestern accent – had been: “if you ever need something, please, don’t hesitate to call this number.” Something, in Aaron’s eyes, had not been anything. While he does not have a single doubt that the rock star would fly to her rescue in any situation, he advised against calling him for certain things.

Not everyone is so fortunate to have Harry in their lives. Aaron, with all of his respect for the man, knew that this had been a game to play carefully. If his pregnant roommate really enjoyed Harry’s company, she would have to play every card right, especially with a man as reserved as he is.

His points had been compelling, but she had not seen it as seriously. Her intuition had not stopped her from rethinking her decision once and twice and thrice. In the end, she had put her trust in Aaron’s madman words and had not called Harry. In the days that had followed, his charismatic voice lured in the back of her head whenever she scanned the sticky note, second-guessing herself about whether her temptation to call him had been worthy enough of his time.

It had been more difficult to resist calling when she had been alone one unfortunate night. The bustle of the neighborhood brought her to a reality that she did not particularly enjoy. Forced by the comfort of her pregnancy pillow, there had been a magnetic pull of the stars that whispered to her eyes through an overbearing distance.

She only wanted a friend that night. Someone to talk with, to hear their voice so that it could bring her back to the bit of sanity she had left. Previous nights, Aaron had been a solace for her, soft-spoken words lulling her to sleep after suffocating in the clouds for too long. Except that night, he ended up at his workplace until the late hour, and she recognized her loneliness as dangerously frightening.

For hours she cried, wanting a hug, wanting something to make her feel real and existent and safe. On that night, in her most calamitous moments, she later came to notice the vivacity of her swollen stomach. It had been – always is – comforting to feel something there, even without having to actually feel movement. It had been therapeutic to whisper her fears and truths. It had been on that night, she would never be alone again.

She hasn’t thought to call the number since. While it has only been a mere 10 days, there feels to be an infinite timeline of moments in-between. She knows it to be more accurate for him and his busy, ever-changing schedule.

They’d had a conversation last time, when he brought her that treasured gift. He sat on the dusty floorboards, her rested on a heavenly cloud with a smile to match. It had been simple, a little awkward at times, though never once had it felt forced. She feared them reverting back to strangers, to sense the shift in energy that would put a strain on her heart.

She scans the note again. xxx-xxx-xxxx. A dime of kisses, where no other option lies.

With her phone face-up on the receptionist’s desk, she rolls her eyes. Messages of apologies and excuses flood in, though her scant aggression dissolves into an antsy frown. She cannot be mad at Cindy/Sydney for cancelling on her, especially when she does not even know her actual name. The frustration of her anger devolves into frustration of herself, for this damn appointment that she had not set up a backup plan for.

“Excuse me?”

Breaking up with an intense, one-sided conversation, she raises her head to a sheepish man in his late 30’s, early 40’s. He stands at a short height on the other side of the receptionist’s desk, square glasses disguising his truest features.

She grins at him, a cheery delight overpowering her honest glum. “Hi, how are you?” her voice chirps, a shift in her behavior that she considers a skill-set. “What can I do for you today?”

“Uh, I’ve already spoken with you. I have an appointment with Sanders at 10 and you told me to fill out a form. I’m still waiting for it.”

The woman’s smile falters at the man’s irresolute explanation. He ends each sentence as though it is a question, not wanting to step on a wrong foot. She takes in his appearance, and there is familiarity in his rusty red, untucked polo. 

“Right.” Her eyes close in repent of her common forgetfulness. “That’s right. I’m sorry.” She scurries to get the papers together on a clipboard, pushing the rolling chair in every different direction. “I’ve just been a little slow today.” The man laughs off the mistake, assuring her that there are no worries.

“Really, no trouble at all.” 

He thanks her for the form once it is secure in his hands and walks to the waiting area. This accidentally precedes her rushing to hand him the sticky note, to which she quickly realizes her mistake before he has a chance to read the numbers. He sits down in a modern arm chair next to its twin, where a young preteen girl shifts around nervously. Out of plain assumption, she recognizes the pair as a father-daughter duo. The man smiles at the girl, crossing his legs, trying to console her nerves as best as he can with humor.

The pregnant receptionist smiles.

The ventilated air of the office smoothens in her lungs.

For her child, she would do anything – everything. As hesitant thoughts surge through in hungry waves, she dials the number in her phone anyway. In the back of her head, she contemplates whether it is actually his number or if it belongs to an assistant of his. It doesn’t sound completely off from what a celebrity would do. He doesn’t know who she is. It’s better to play it safe than to make a foolish mistake that he later regrets. 

The trio of short, snippy buzzes vibrate through the line. It is an electric feeling, comforting almost to hear its warm murmur during her wait.

“—Hello?”

Her languid eyes illuminate in the mirror of neon signs; her body freezes over with a blizzard of nerves. His voice is somehow deeper than she remembers from 10 days ago, an ironic sultriness in his polite tone.

“Hello?” he asks again with a tad more infliction in the single word.

“...H-Hello,” she responds, tongue running dry and the last sensible part of her brain sabotaging her. Why didn’t I prepare for this? It is feasible that deep in her subconscious, she had expected an assistant to answer. She practically wanted an assistant to answer. 

He repeats himself, “Hello,” a little more chirp in the melody of a mockingbird.

“Hi. Harry?”

“Who’s calling?”

The question stumbles her for a second. Is it good or bad that he cannot recognize her voice? Admittedly a consequence on her part for taking so long to reach out. She answers anyway, her name spoken with so much dubiety, but really, what is she afraid of? 

“You know, the uh, the one from—”

“Oh—”

“From Mel’s and, the one with ... pregnant, y’know—”

“Yeah!” he exclaims, echoing her name through a mildly static output. “Of course. How are you? Doing alright? Baby’s fine?” 

She pulls away from the phone to breathe, suddenly elated over his reaction. His charisma is virtually magical. She touches her cheek to the screen again to answer:

“I’m doing great, thank you. Baby’s fine, I hope.”

A delay of worry replaces his lack of an immediate response. “You hope? Why, what’s – is there something wrong?”

“No!” she bursts out, the father and daughter staring back at her in surprise. She nervously chuckles and smiles at them, deflating in her chair as she continues. “No, sorry, that came out wrong. I meant to say ... well, I’m sure the baby’s fine. Nothing feels wrong, but I do have an appointment for an ultrasound today.”

A faint crackle from the line resonates in her ear. She clearly pictures Harry’s sigh of relief.

“Really? That’s great. I hope it all goes well.”

“Thanks! Thank you, I do too—” she snickers, “Obviously, but I have uh ... there’s a bit of a predicament.”

“Predicament? Fancy word.”

“Right, well, it’s not so much of a fancy situation that I’m in. See, I was supposed to be picked up later today by Cindy Sydney so that she could take me from work to the appointment, but she just called and cancelled because she has to pick up her aunt from the airport. She got the dates mixed up somehow, which makes no sense because pregnancy has made me very forgetful, and even I didn’t get the dates wrong. I think that might have to do with the planner, it does keep me organized, but even then—”

“Darling,” Harry stops her, unaware of how she chokes on her own tongue at the endearment. Darling. Darling again! From darling to love, she is in a storm of beating hearts. “You’re gonna ‘ave to slow down. What – you don’t have a way to get to your appointment, is it?”

“Yes. Right. I don’t have enough for an Uber or a Lyft right now without affecting my budget for next month. She offered to pay for it, that or for cancellation fees, but I don’t really trust those kinds of transportations right now, and I already got approval from my manager, so switching the date would just be super inconvenient.”

“Right. I understand.”

“I’m so sorry, it’s just that no one else that I know of is available, and I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy. I wouldn’t be calling if—”

“No, no, that’s alright. I’m glad that you’re calling.”

The pregnant woman simpers, a needle pricking at her heart. “R-Really?”

“Of course. I would be more than glad to help. If you could just send me the location of your workplace and where you’re getting your ultrasound ... what time is your appointment?”

“At 2. I want to get there maybe fifteen minutes earlier. You’ll never know how much the traffic will back up at that time. Is it okay if uh ... are, are you picking me up or...?”

“Yeah, why?”

“N-No, nothing, I just ... didn’t know if you were busy. Didn’t want to assume.”

“Yeah, my schedule’s fine. Not really doing anything that I can’t do later, so everything’s fine.”

“Oh, okay. Good. Great. So, uh, is it okay if you arrive here at, say, one-oh-five-ish?” 

“Oddly specific.” Harry chuckles. “But sure. I can make that happen.” 

“Great! Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“You’re quite welcome ... thank you for calling.”

While her appreciation for him has always been so strong, this heavy thump in her pink and red organ is nearly unbearable. Ever since he fell intertwining into her life, she tries her hardest to ignore whatever feelings may occur. Now it seems more ideal to control it than to suppress it.

“You’re welcome,” she speaks softly, 16 again with a crush on a boy. “Thank you for picking up.”

Unbeknownst to her, he smiles on the other end. “S’ my pleasure. Now, get back to work, you over-achiever!” His accent purposely thickens on his second sentence, eliciting a natural, honest laugh. “Don’t forget to send me the addresses. I’ll make sure everything works out.”

Their phone call ends with innocent expressions of repetitive gratitude and gentle goodbyes. The pregnant woman does not waste a second to send him the addresses via text message, not allowing herself to fall victim to her lapse of memory. She checks over the numbers, the street names, the zip codes – all more than once, to make sure that all is well and not in metaphorical flames.

new message: Got it. See you later. H

H. She bites on her silky lip, a refreshing taste from her natural balm. She is familiar with the signoff, though she doesn’t know if it is something he does regularly or if it is only a one-time confirmation that this is, in fact, his number. Does he expect her to save his ten digits in her contact’s list, somewhere underneath a family member and above an old friend? She is giddy, undoubtedly so. An unspoken dream of hers as a plain teenager unraveling into reality! It causes the brightest smile this orthodontist office has ever seen.

So much esteem fills her up at eleven in the morning, and to her expectation, the hours go by very slowly. Alternating clients, each with different lives, somehow bound to this one place and time. Sorting forms and making calls and opening emails; a distraction in one way or another, but neither can steal her attention entirely.

Due to a much-needed bathroom break, she almost misses the message. Relieving her bladder had not been the first or even second of the day, but it is important that she stays hydrated, and this is especially true during her pregnancy. She really cannot afford a preventable trip to the emergency room right now.

When she reaches the receptionist’s desk, the message hides behind the black screen of her phone for an entire minute. She is lucky that her outdated iPhone can still be trusted by reminding her of a message succeeding two minutes from when she receives it.

new message: I’m outside. Toyota Camry in black. 

Despite her anticipation for his arrival, the message throws her off any and all guards. Primarily it is because he arrives six minutes before their agreed time, whereas her friends are usually a few minutes late. Secondarily... 

“Toyota?” she whispers to herself, eyebrows arching together. She isn’t too up to speed with car models, but she is more than certain that Harry has driven some different sort of vehicles in his time. The only moment she can ever recall him in a Toyota had been that commercial he had done years ago.

Regardless, she raises steadily from her chair on wheels, pushing it back as she collects her belongings. It is without trouble that she notices the slight shake of her hand, the sweat collecting on different sections of her skin. She ignores it. “Ang!” she calls, groaning at the absolute mess of her work bag. It is more professional than her casual bucket bag, wide with its faux leather, but it is just as much of an interior travesty.

She picks up her phone to send a one-handed message:

Conch.

Coming* 

Be out soon.

“Ang!”

There is a franticness to her as she steps around the receptionist’s desk. She sports an added height in her footwear, something that she tries to savor before her feet start to swell. She thinks it will be unbearable to wear heels then, but she’s not for certain.

“I’m here, I’m here!” Ang announces, stepping into the light of the front area in her navy scrubs. “Sorry, nena, I had an alarm set for one in case you forgot. Guess it didn’t go off.” 

The pregnant woman watches her coworker situate herself on the rolling chair. “No, no, you’re fine, it’s not one yet. Honestly, I don’t think I would’ve been able to forget. I’m just so excited, you have no idea.”

“No, I don’t.” Ang smiles. “You’re about to see your child! That’s a huge deal.”

“I know! I know, I can’t wait.”

“I can. Especially until Stefan buys me a ring. Otherwise, I’m going to keep working on my career.”

The woman smiles at her friend, thanking her once more for taking over her station while she is gone. She repeats the same gratitude, expressing how much this truly means to her, because it all comes from her honest heart. She really is in awe of how willing people are to help her when she is in need.

“Also, turn that alarm off before it starts ringing. It makes me anxious every time I hear it.”

“You and I both.” Ang snickers. “You’re off to your appointment then?” 

“Yes, my uh, my ride’s here so ... better early than late when it comes to these things, y’know?”

“Mm-hmm. Who’s taking you?”

The pregnant woman hesitates. “A friend. Has the day off from work, thankfully.” 

Ang begins to sift through a small pile of paperwork, sparing her coworker a measly glance. She’s not unfamiliar with the receptionist’s work, so she takes this as an opportunity to rest her active legs. She can also recognize the strange tone of the pregnant woman, a shaky smile that carries suspicion.

She doesn’t think too much on it. “Great. Be safe. Let me know how it goes.”

For that, the pregnant woman is grateful. “Thank you.” She smiles, a frail wave in Ang’s direction as she blindly scurries away. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

She almost runs belly first into the glass door, but stutters her movements before any panic arises from Ang. Still, she sighs with relief when she hears the chime above her pregnant coworker’s head. “...Be careful.”

“Got it! Bye!”

The woman’s face twists in agony as she exits the office. A tenacious heat buries her in an embrace. Parallel to the sidewalk she stands upon is a dark vehicle, a protective tint rises from the brim of the tires and extends beyond the sleek windows. She gravitates in its direction at the sound of the passanger door unlocking, considering it symbolic, the single click of the door a new breath of feasibilities. 

She stalks a couple feet to her right where the car reeks with caution. It isn’t until the passanger windows rolls down that she can sense her blood settle and burst all at once. “Hi.” Harry leans forward at his side, revealing his face amongst the darkness of his surroundings.

“Hey, hi,” she greets him back through the open window. “Good to see you. Nice car.” 

“Thanks.” He smiles, scarce eyes pulling to her every movement. In the most mundane activities – fingertips at the door handle, crouching to the seat, buckling the seatbelt – she highlights his curiosity. “Good to see you as well. Also, s’ actually not my car.”

With her lips as barriers around a reusable straw, she pretends to be surprised. “It’s not?” she smacks her tongue, relishing in the purity of her water.

Harry shifts the gear in drive, setting the GPS up and maneuvering out of the lot with high-alert. “No. I’ve borrowed it.”

“Why—”

“Starting route to—” The animatronic voice interrupts their conversation.

She tries again, “Why would you do that?” with slight disappointment in their reunion. It lacks excitement, but somehow picks up where it’s been left off. No longer a drastic stretch in time are those 10 days.

Harry shrugs casually, turning onto the main road where other vehicles swim along. “Draws less attention.” He pauses, to which she then decides to look over. With the exception of him driving, she gets the impression that he avoids her eyes more so to keep her from catching the sadness in his. There is only a sprinkle, a shimmer that is never truly absent. “Thought you’d might be a little anxious about your appointment,” he continues, “Didn’t want you to have to worry about something else.”

“Oh.” She warms up, her organs all collectively combusting. “Thanks. Thank you for thinking of that.” Her words express gratitude with ease, but the glimmer in her eyes twinge with empathy. She doesn’t ponder over her privacy, or how simple it is for her to go out and do as she pleases. Since his 16th year, he had not been so lucky.

“Of course,” he replies, professionally monotone, as though he can shut off even the faintest flicker of emotion. “S’ my pleasure. How are you feeling? Nervous?”

“Uh, yeah, a little. I’m really jittery and I’ve been drinking water nonstop. On top of that, my bladder is the size of a bean. I’m really good at holding it in though, so I’m not afraid of ruining your seats or anything. Or ... not your seats, but your seats for now. Not like ... not that you were even thinking about that...”

Harry chuckles throughout the entirety of her run-on spoken thoughts. It is never at her – no, never. It is because of her, because despite any situation, she is this fountain of goodness drowning in gold. “Very nervous then?” he teases.

“Yeah ... sorry.”

“No, it’s alright. Nothing to be ashamed about. It’s an important day for you. I’d expect—”

“Turn left on—”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he finishes, lowering the volume of his pesky GPS. “Must be surreal, if anything.” The robotic voice is still present, but becomes more of a background noise that allows them both to speak freely. 

“Oh yeah, completely. It’s like ... it’s like I can’t feel them yet, like movement wise, but ... I don’t know. I guess ... obviously I know they’re in there, but even without movement I can feel them. I know they’re present, heartbeat and everything. Does this – is any of this making sense?”

“Yeah,” he quips amusingly, “it is. Even if it didn’t, doesn’t matter. It makes sense to you and that’s more than enough validation.” 

“Mmm. Right, but it’s still nice to have someone understand.”

Harry sneaks a glance in his peripheral, inhaling and exhaling as to settle into the moment. “I know—”

“In 500 feet, keep right—” 

“What was, uh—” he digs into another topic, the robotic voice somehow a savior that refreshes the conversation. “What you said on the phone about ... Sin City, I think it was?”

“What?”

“You said something about being picked up near Sin City? From your work to your appointment? I thought there might’ve been a store or somethin’ near your job, but I don’t think I saw anything like that.”

“Sin ... oh!” The woman laughs, slapping her knee consciously. “Cindy Sydney. She’s my ... well, yeah, I guess she’s my friend.”

“Cindy Sydney?” he repeats, slowly enunciating every syllable so as to make sure he’s got it right. “Huh. Eh ... that airport story makes more sense. Didn’t know who you were talking about.”

“Yeah, my bad. I know I tend to ramble, probably explains why no one calls me anymore. They can’t even understand what I’m saying.”

“I understood!” he proclaims, expression of his pride lacing around his lazy smile. “Yeah, got it now. Cindy Sydney. That’s really her name? Like ... Phillip Phillips?” 

“No.” The woman laughs, almost choking on her water. “N-No, it’s ... I don’t know her name, to be honest. One of them might be it.”

“Wh—how do you not know?”

“Okay, so basically, I met her maybe a month and a half ago? Somewhere around two months, I guess. And it wasn’t like this everyday sort of meeting at, say, a retail store or something. Can you believe that one night I wake up to use the bathroom I half-pay for, and this woman who I’ve never seen before comes out, no pants, maybe underwear, and what I now assume to be Aaron’s shirt?”

“Aaron?” Harry questions nonchalantly, as though the thought of him is of half-importance. “What, like a—”

“Yeah, so, he usually never brings anyone home. If anything, he’ll go over to someone else’s and come back really early in the morning. So, picture me, pregnant, really loopy because I have to pee, half-awake mind you, running into a complete stranger in my own home.”

Harry adds dramatically, “In the middle of the night!”

“Exactly! So, while I’m tiredly freaking out, trying to not literally piss myself, she’s apologizing and introducing herself. I don’t know if I heard Cindy or Sydney, hence why she’s both, but it could be neither. Anyway, we ended up talking in the hallway and I told her about my situation and why I was living with Aaron. She was actually really nice and offered to drive me whenever I needed a ride.”

“Hmm. Interesting how that played out.” He shoots her a look, to which she can only shrug. “Why haven’t you asked Aaron what her name is?”

“I did! I think he’s annoyed that I befriended his one night stand because he told me her name was Sierra. Then again, he probably doesn’t know himself.”

“Jesus. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

“Oh, it’s too late for that. I’ll just be extremely awkward. I really do feel bad about it though. She is a nice person, except for, y’know, cancelling on a pregnant woman. I mean, it’s not a huge deal or anything, but ... c’mon. Would you ever do something like that?”

“Dunno,” he playfully smirks, “Maybe if she forgot my name...”

“I didn’t forget it! I never knew it!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking. But I have noticed that you like to play the, uh, the pregnant card a lot.”

“Oh yeah!” she fixes her position on the seat, pulling the seatbelt to her preferred adjustment. “Not a doubt about it. Coming from a place where no one really took me seriously. I mean, yeah, maybe I was a little dramatic when I was younger, but that shouldn’t invalidate my feelings. Now it’s like ... you have to take me seriously. Not only am I going to raise a child on my own, I’m literally growing said child inside of me. Isn’t that just ... just fucking amazing?”

Harry stops at the red stoplight, which he is glad for, because now he can look over and mesmerize at her. He can see before him a woman who smiles at the window, water bottle between her thighs, hands on her belly. It’s grown a bit, he thinks, and it is truly, wonderfully, unimaginably powerful.

“Yeah,” he silently agrees, “fuckin’ amazing.”

The woman smiles, but her wandering eyes suddenly widen with worry. She holds her hands out, an aura around her belly as she props an inch forward. “Did I...” she thinks aloud, “I didn’t ask you how you were doing today. How are you, Harry?”

She looks at him with features full of soft inquiry. The now green light ever so symbolic, he wonders how magical such a mundane thing must be in the dark of the night. “M’ alright,” he answers, pressing on the gas, somewhat wishing that the drive never ends. “Thank you for asking.”

~

Her angled feet dangle from her seat on the examination table. Harry sits in front of her on a separate chair, leaning back in a position juiced with supremacy. His index finger taps against his lips in sync with the tick of the black and white wall clock. 

“So, you work as an orthodontist?”

She looks to Harry with her body stiff in discomfort. “No,” she answers, noticeably quieter in such a mellow area. “Just at the office. I’m a receptionist. Didn’t go to like ... an orthodontist school or anything. Even if I did, I’d probably still be there. Probably takes a lot of years.”

“Right,” he agrees. “A receptionist, then? Do you like it?”

“Sure. It’s not my dream job, but it pays the bills. Plus, I get along with everyone in the office. They’re like ... my distant second family.”

“Alright...” he gradually begins to smile. “What’s your dream job then?”

The woman shrugs, so quickly that it is considerably sad. “I don’t know. I went to community college undecided.”

“What did you graduate in?”

“Well, I got my A.A., but beyond that I haven’t ... finished. I transferred to the nearest University but after a semester or two I just ... I just didn’t finish.” She looks to her lap where her fingers play with the material of her blouse. Harry discreetly frowns at her dejected expression, an ambience of regret seeping out of her system. “It’s hard enough for people to get a job with a Bachelor’s degree. Competition is high, especially in Los Angeles. I’m lucky as it is with just my A.A.”

“Yeah. I understand. M’ sorry for bringing it up. Didn’t mean to pry.”

Her features immediately shine with worry. “No, it’s completely fine. I’m the same way. Always curious.” She forces a laugh, but the intention is sincere enough. “If anything, thank you for asking, or even ... caring at all. Not a lot of people show an interest in me, especially not after this one.”

She points an accusatory finger to her belly, which he takes as another opportunity to marvel. It is so fascinating to him, as he believes it would be to anybody. This power she holds, the strength she gives off. This strange and endearing woman who he had met by questionable circumstances of fate – she opens his eyes to something he’s not quite sure of yet.

“Anyway, being a receptionist is fine for me,” she continues. “I’m basically Pam Beasley except knocked up and without a Jim Halpert. I mean, she was pregnant twice, but by then she was already married.”

Harry narrows his eyes. “I’m sorry, who?”

“Oh ... um, The Office reference.”

“Ah. Alright. Still haven’t seen it.”

“Finished the series again. At least Pam wasn’t a receptionist forever.” She allows her eyes to wander around the room. “...Thanks for coming in with me,” she offers, meekly smiling amidst a thick, awkward air. “I’m sorry if it’s super weird, they’re probably going to assume you’re the dad, so just so you know—”

“Oh—” 

“Just so you can be prepared—”

“Right, no, it’s fine. It’s good. That’s fine.”

“...Really?”

“Of course. I mean ... like, I’m not the father, duh, but it’s harmless. I’m honored to be here with you either way.” 

She looks down to her belly, where her freshly painted nails – she’d recoated for the special occasion – search tenderly. “I didn’t ... picture it like this. Not everyone wants to have a baby, or get married, or things like that. But those who do ... you just can’t help but picture it, y’know? You dream about your wedding, what the venue will look like, what you’ll dance to or wear. Or when you have a kid, you imagine that first look. Your first look at your baby to know they’re actually in there, and you can almost see your whole future right before your eyes.”

By now, Harry is in a trance of both comprehension and disbelief. For him, it is difficult to find people in which he can relate his thoughts to; someone he can honestly understand. With the spontaneous flow of his life, he isn’t able to picture the future as he once did at 16. Yet, as her defenseless words spew out, he contemplates the quick flash in his eyes.

She smiles, and though it does not reach her eyes, it is authentic in the purest sense. “I ... wish the circumstances were different. No one ever really wants to picture it like this.”

He doesn’t find offense in her honestly, no matter how poorly she constructs it. If anything, with his entire body and soul, he aches to turn back time. “I understand,” he says, because while she most certainly does not need or depend on the father, she had pictured it differently. He knows that she had pictured herself to be in love instead of broken and built up again. She doesn’t need him, but she wants him, at least a little bit. It is for that that he can never entirely hate him.

“...Except you,” she confesses shyly. “And I’m not just saying that for obvious reasons. If you weren’t here, I’d be alone. I probably wouldn’t even be here. That’s why I’m always thanking you, because it really does mean more than you can imagine. Being alone is fine, I can sort of manage, but ... it’s nicer to have someone with you, y’know?”

“...Yeah.” Harry blushes, failing to cover it up with a cough and a sniffle. “I’m ... I know. I understand.”

The sound of the door unlatching rattles their bodies. “Hi!” the doctor storms in, breaking their moment. The two of them smile, the pregnant woman nods as her name from the lips of the lady in the form of a question. “This must be papa?”

The pregnant woman silently snickers at her oh-so-psychic abilities. She offers Harry a witty raise of the brow, but due to the blindness of her pride, she fails to recognize the cheeky glint in his eyes. As she opens her mouth to deny the doctor’s innocent assumption, Harry chimes in and steals her words. Except, they’re not her words at all.

“Yes,” he announces, his accent supplying to the playful sarcasm of his tone. “Yes, that is me. As Maury would say ... I am the father.” 

To say she is shocked ... well, it is not all that off-character. Harry is a humorous man, one that loves to entertain. The statement makes her do a double-take, jaw opening with a single throaty chuckle. He responds with an animated grin and cartoon wink – how can she not play along?

“Right.” She nods. “This is my baby daddy ... Halpert.”

Harry snickers, but covers it with a cough. “Halpert. Yes. Says so on my birth certificate.”

The doctor smiles at them both, amused by their charade. She has probably seen many acts in this office, so she lets their humor be. Besides that, she begins by asking a few simple questions, reconfirming everything before directing the woman to lie on her back.

“Sorry I didn’t dress practically,” she discloses, “I just came from work. Didn’t really have time to change, or even think about bringing clothes to change into.”

“It’s no problem. We’ll just open this up...” The doctor starts with the lowest button on her blouse, continuing to undo the following three. “And lower this down a little,” she continues, carefully dragging the upper part of her pencil skirt down until her belly is nicely exposed.

The pregnant woman tries to ignore the discomfort that she feels. Firstly, lying on her back is a nightmare without her pillow. Secondly, with her blouse pried open, a mere centimeter of her bra peaks out. Harry sitting next to her is the third basis of her discomfort, intense concentration on his part with the upmost awareness. The fourth, the icing on the cake, is like literal icing. While the doctor had told her to prepare for the cool gel, it doesn’t make it any less frosty on her skin.

Despite it all, her minds swivels around a haze. The doctor’s equipment runs along her stomach, eager to discover. Her hands clench without her noticing. She feels as if her lungs run out of oxygen – she forgets to breathe! Nothing is important to her other than what the doctor has to say about what can be seen on that unreadable screen, the one where she strains her neck to catch even a glimpse of meaningless motion.

She looks to the doctor, taking in every feature that may indicate something, anything. She momentarily forgets about Harry, who leans forward in his seat, risking everything by placing a hand over her knuckles. She doesn’t notice. All she can focus on is the doctor’s smile.

“Found them,” she announces, continuing her movement with more confidence than before. 

“You...” the pregnant woman’s chest deflates. Her breath hitches, needing more than two words to convince her that everything is okay. “...You found?”

“Yes. There’s the head,” the doctor points to the screen, brown muck never more beautiful. “the body...” The woman listens, matching up the body part with the picture on the screen. A wave of newfound contentment vanishes every worry away – almost, because really, she can’t help herself. “Everything looks great, mama.”

“Mom...” she stumbles out, swallowing thickly as her fingers fall loose. She shakes her head, overcome with every emotion she’s ever known on top of those that are entirely new to her.

Harry smiles at her, noticing the light drips swaying down her cheeks. “That’s your baby,” he says, disregarding the possibility of destroying his cover as Halpert. He himself begins to empathize with this woman, this calm of a storm that he’s only known for a few short weeks. “Congratulations.”

“C—” She can’t seem to tear her eyes away from the screen, the ache in her neck multiplying, but she just doesn’t care. “My baby...” she speaks softly, the room almost entirely silent, but still it feels like there are a million things going on at once. And yes, she is smiling. She is over the moon, over this entire universe and the next. It is dangerous territories to be so elevated, and she knows this to be true when she begins to feel the low.

~

A bitter California sun never truly settles. When she walks out of the imaging center, heels scraping against the dry and jagged sidewalk, she winces and sighs. Her blouse now intact, her skirt lifted again, but the residue of the gel makes it stick to her skin more than any perspiration. In her hands, she holds onto the envelope with the printed pictures of her son or daughter – she doesn’t know yet. With the baby’s position, it had been a little hard to tell. She’s relieved for it though. There had only been so much that she could absorb in such a short, life-changing moment. 

Harry follows after her, already with his shaded sunglasses scooted close to his face. He mimics her position as she leans against the side of the Toyota, staring down at an enclosed envelope. Very steadily, she lifts the flap open and slides the picture out, running a thumb over the body of her child. 

“Sorry you couldn’t find out the gender today,” he speaks up, observing the way she cradles the print. It is natural, the way she possesses that tender quality of a mother. “Must have ... must be—”

“It’s fine,” she says, not wanting to hear the end of his sentence. “It’s not like I’ll never know.” 

“Right.”

“Right.”

“Good. Still a beautiful moment, eh?”

“Yeah...”

“Thank you for letting me be a part of it.”

She looks up at him, but the connection is blocked by his sunglasses. She smiles either way. “You’re welcome. That sounds weird to be saying.”

He looks down, ankles crossed, hands in his pocket. “I know I can’t, um ... ever know what you’re feeling, but ... how are you feeling?”

“...Good?”

“What I mean is ... I’ve never been to an ultrasound. I’ve been friends with lots of pregnant women, and I know that doesn’t mean I have a clue about ... I just, for the moments like these, I imagine the woman to be happy. Happier than happy, and I just ... I don’t know. How are you feeling?”

A period of elongated seconds pass as the pregnant woman considers his talk. Birds chirp, an ambulance sounds in the near distance, and the faintest wind kisses her face with the leaves of the rustling trees. “I’m ... happy,” she answers truthfully, closing her eyes as the burn in her chest rises up her throat and to her nose.

“And...” Harry presses on, noticing how her answer hangs off the edge of a cliff.

She swallows, face molding like a ceramic statue on which the rain pours. “...And scared.” Her voice quivers. She doesn’t want to open her eyes. She’s far too cowardly to envision the colors. 

Harry stands still, watching as she unravels the rawest parts of her. He doesn’t want to ask why – it should be obvious to everyone. She is a single mother-to-be. Her life is moving quicker than she could have ever imagined. Of course, she is scared. It would be strange of her not to be. Therefore, he doesn’t ask, but instead calls to her. In a faint second, she breathes in, coming alive to the world again. Her shaky hands wipe frantically at her blinking eyes, a sorry attempt to erase the remnants of her weakness.

“God...” she scoffs. “I can’t – why am I crying? This is so dumb.”

Harry shakes his head, his entire body now turning to her. “No, it’s not. So, you’re scared. Everyone is. I am. Why wouldn’t you want to be scared?”

“Because I don’t know what I’m doing!” she bellows, entirely turning to him. As her words sink in and flow on, he slides off his glasses, letting them hang from the fine stitch of his t-shirt collar. “Or – or what I’m going to do. I’m ... I was a child yesterday. That’s what it felt like. I was ... searching for independence and purpose and now I’m...” A breath trickles out. “I don’t want to ruin this child, Harry. But I have absolutely no clue what I’m doing.”

“No,” Harry argues. “No, you won’t. I know you won’t. You’re going to do everything you possibly can for your child. That alone makes you an incredible mum.” By now, his hands are on her shoulders, thumbs absentmindedly smoothening her nerves. “And incredible mums don’t know the answer to everything, that’s what makes them so incredible. They don’t know anything!”

She sniffles at the sidewalk. “Yours does,” she mumbles, indicating how well-rounded she sees this kind man. The manner in which he had been raised ... he is a foundation for reckless excellence.

“To be fair, I’m her second child,” he reasons, even tittering a little. “When she had my sister, she didn’t know what she was doing ... but she learned. Even after all these years, she’s still learning. You can’t expect yourself to be perfect ... at least, perfect without any flaws. You’re scared, that’s ... it’s important. You can’t skip that stage, alright?”

She reluctantly nods, but she has to admit to herself that his charisma is magical. To be a mother at her age – perhaps it is not uncommon. Yet, it is a vague new-coming of an experience. This growth that she possesses, her body ever-changing in the autumn to spring, the little person that will resemble parts of her and no one else. If that is not a future more uncertain...

“You’re going to be excellent. An excellent mum. And you’re not alone. You have Aaron. Maybe Cindy Sydney Sierra, if her aunt’s not visiting ... and you always have a friend in me.”

...but how sad it would be to plan every waking moment and every dying night. How safe it would feel to stumble upon no surprise. In the end, a future without uncertainty is no future at all. She doesn’t know what she will do when her baby fusses and whines and drives their mother to insanity. Previously oblivious of the happiness it will bring, the overwhelming flutter in her chest is a euphoric feeling like no other. To love another person unconditionally, entirely – to be loved in return – that is the greatest and only certainty she will never need.

[tommyparkerr]

Not so Scary | Peter Parker x Reader

I got another request done! Now I just have one left from the prompt list I posted AGES ago and two in my inbox! I’m really excited to write them, but don’t be expecting them to come out anytime real soon...I’m uber busy, loves. But I’ll write whenever I can!!

Requested by @hollandandi : “hey! here’s a request for your plane ride! maybe something along the lines of peter or tom coming home late from a mission/work and you’ve been up watching scary movies for hours with Tess - when he gets home, you are so on edge from the films that you grab something to protect yourself (like a lamp) and hide behind the door, ready to pounce? lol something like that? maybe you even hit him accidentally and then take care of him? something fluffy! thanks and have a safe flight🧠💓”

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: Mentions of blood, F L U F F

-Masterlist-

N O T S O S C A R Y :

You’d been home alone all day. Peter had said something about Mr. Stark needing him for a mission of some sorts, and he assured you that it wasn’t anything too dangerous and that he’d be careful before leaving, but you were still anxious. Tony rarely, if ever, called Peter to help with a mission unless he absolutely had to, so either he had been lying when he told Peter it wasn’t that dangerous or Peter was lying when he told you Tony had said such a thing; you didn’t particularly like either side of that coin.

Obviously you were racked with worry and stress as soon as Peter was gone, so what did you do? You had a marathon of horror films.

Not the smartest idea you’d ever had. But then again, you usually left the smarts to Peter.

It was dark out now. Peter still hadn’t returned home and your nerves had risen to an insane state. Your hands were nearly trembling as they clutched Captain. Captain didn’t seem to mind, though, as she seemed just as scared and desperate for comfort as you—she’d been watching the films with you. The white ball of fluff whined and barked when you cuddled her closer in anticipation of the next scene, almost as if she could sense what was coming too.

Within the silence you heard a scratch resonate from your bedroom, followed closely by a slow screech. Captain looked nervous, and that alone was enough for you to pause the movie, hop up, and grab the nearest object to you to use as a weapon—which just so happened to be the only lamp in your apartment. But you doubted Peter would mind if you broke it saving yourself.

Slowly you and Captain crept to the bedroom door and waited. Blood was pumping through your veins, the sound of it rushing through your ears and blocking out all other noise. A shadow walked out just as you got close to the room and you faintly heard Captain barking as you reached up and swung the lamp over the top of the figure.

There was a heavy thud as it hit its mark and then a groan. Captain was going crazy now, jumping up and down but sticking to your side all the same. You went to hit the shadow again but it suddenly caught your hand midair, making you shriek in fright. Captain went for the bite as soon as she heard you scream, attaching her jaw the best she could to the intruder’s leg.

“Ow! Captain, it’s me! C’mon girl, get off now! You don’t have to protect Y/N from me!”

“Peter?” you gasped.

“Who else would it be?” he exclaimed, dropping your wrist.

You set the lamp down and fumbled to find the light switch. When you did, you saw that Peter had already taken the suit off and was currently dressed in a long sleeved shirt and boxers. He had lots of yellowish bruises and blood was caked around his nose, but it was old and dried already, making you thank the heavens once more for Peter’s healing factor.

You practically leaped into his arms, making him stumble.

“I mean, it’s good to see you too, but what’s with the change of heart? Just a few moments ago you were trying to kill me.”

You shook your head and clutched him tighter. “Did I hurt you?” you mumbled.

“No more than I already am,” he chuckled. When you didn’t let go within a few minutes and didn’t look like you were planning to anytime soon, he softly said, “I need to clean up, baby.”

“Yeah, you stink,” you agreed.

His giggle rumbled through his chest. “Then why are you still holding on?”

“Because I was worried,” you admitted. “You never disappear for that long without checking in.”

Peter sighed and brushed his hand over your hair. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to worry you like that. But I’m here now, see? I’m okay.”

You exhaled and nodded, hesitantly stepping out of his grasp. Captain whined and nuzzled against Peter, kind of like she was saying, Sorry for trying to bite your leg off.

“As much as I admire your courage, Cap, you’re gonna have to wait until you’re a little bigger to do any real damage,” Peter cooed, lifting the puppy up and accepting her barrage of kisses. He smiled and handed her to you, giving you both kisses before heading back to take a shower.

You debated waiting right there for him, but you took a look at the bent and broken lamp and winced, knowing you had to have hurt him more than he was willing to admit. You put Captain down and let her follow you into the kitchen where you grabbed an ice pack. You immediately dropped it at the pain that ran up your hand and groaned when you saw the blood running down your palm; the adrenaline from earlier must have been numbing the pain while it lasted.

You picked up the ice pack with your uninjured hand and set it on the counter before going to the sink and running the cold water over your bloody hand. When the blood washed away you were relieved to see that the cuts didn’t look too deep and that no glass shards seemed to have stuck in your skin.

“Hey, Peter?” you yelled when the shower water turned off.

“Yeah?” he called back.

“Can you bring a couple band aids when you come out?”

He didn’t reply after that, and you only had to wait a few moments before he was stumbling out, his hair dripping water on the floor and his clothes sticking to his wet skin. His eyes went wide when he saw the blood smeared on the ice pack and he looked panicky.

“I’m fine, Pete,” you assured him. “It’s just a little blood. I cut myself when I hit you with the lamp.”

He didn’t respond, only turning the sink off, taking your hand, and carefully inspecting it. “Does it hurt?” he quietly asked.

“It stings a little, but that’s it. It’s nothing really. I’m fine.”

He gave you a look before unwrapping the band aids he brought and caringly placing them over the cuts. You kissed his cheek as a thank you before grabbing the forgotten ice pack, rinsing the blood off, and putting it on the back of Peter’s head. He didn’t fight you on this, going with you when you led him back to the living room and cuddled up to him on the couch. He adjusted the both of you until you were comfortably leaning back against his chest and a blanket was keeping your bodies warm. Captain eagerly jumped up when you stopped wiggling and slipped her way into your lap, circling a few times before plopping down.

Peter started to laugh when you pushed play on the remote, letting the eerie music fill the room again. “No wonder you were so jumpy!” You shrugged as you pet the yellow lab in front of you and turned your head to rest over Peter’s heart. The steady thumping calmed you. “You should really stop watching these, Y/N,” he said more quiet this time, his voice concerned.

“They entertain me. Scare me enough to keep me awake.”

“They also make you hit me in the back of the head with our only lamp and cut your hand from the impact.”

“Which is entertaining.”

You could practically hear Peter roll his eyes, but he silenced so you could continue watching the movie anyway. Captain fell asleep, probably as comforted as you by the presence of Peter and your much calmer persona. Pretty soon you started to drift off too, and you turned away from the tv to snuggle further into your boyfriend’s chest. His other hand came around you now, the coldness from the ice pack seeping through your sweatshirt.

“Scare you enough to keep you awake, huh?” Peter teased, rubbing your back.

You hummed, closing your eyes. “S’not so scary when I’m with you,” you mumbled.

Peter held you tighter and kissed your head. “Go to sleep, Y/N. We can spend tomorrow doing whatever you want since I was gone today, but for now, sleep. I love you.”

The words were on the tip of your tongue, the I love you, too, but they never made it past your lips before the world went quiet and you slipped into the darkness awaiting you.

XxX

Permanent Tag: @lemirabitur @my-meant-to-find-blog @jongindeepbreath @tomspideyweb @farfromjustordinary @tomsstarlight @delicately-written @catstielanddeanthedog @tom-holland-and-textposts @spiderman-n @wtfholland @hollandandi

[tinfcomic]

Hey there! I love the comic and especially the recent developments we've seen😏👌🔥 As a writer myself, I was wondering if u lay out and plan the whole story/chapter first or kind of make it up as u go. Also do the readers ever influence ur decisions like the comments we give u? Or have u always stuck with what u have in mind cos that's something I struggle with 😂 thanks! Love u!! Xxx

Hi anon!! Thanks so much, I’m glad you’re liking it!!! 😚💕 What I can’t wait for is next chapter… 😉

I’m a huge believer in not being too attached to very specific ideas, so what I do is plan out the most important parts and work around that, letting them influence all my decisions. These include:

the overall goal/theme for the comic

important plot points I need to take place

the ending of the entire comic

Usually when you have all these planned out, no matter what you change in the middle, it’s fine because it’ll always point you to where you need to go! As I made TINF, I added and got rid of ideas for chapters, depending if I felt like it was too excessive or unnecessary.

I’m a huge fan of summaries! Since I don’t like getting attached to ideas, what I do is use TINF’s chapters to stay organized. You probably noticed most chapters are more episodic rather than connecting… that makes it easier for me LOL. Especially with this second half of TINF, I have a bullet point list of chapters because each chapter is accomplishing something very specific. When working on a chapter, I always:

remind myself what I want to accomplish with the chapter (+ why it’s important; this usually always ties back to the overall goal/plot/ending of the comic, whether it’s an active plot point or getting a character to a certain point in their development)

make an ordered list of events that will take place in the chapter

write the introduction

write the ending (to make sure the chapter content won’t feel completely bonkers/random LOL)

I include all of these in a summary, sprinkle it with ideas I like, and then let it run its course through thumbnailing. My characters notoriously have a mind of their own, so I’m pretty lax with my connecting actions (the middle stuff that gets me to each event I’ve planned). I usually leave those specifics to the thumbnailing stage because it’s easier for me to make decisions when I can visually see/feel what’s going on.

Depending on preference, writing webcomics can be way different than writing a graphic novel, too, in terms of pacing. Since TINF only updates 2x/week, I try my best to plan each page to feel satisfying enough since the story updates slowly, which is also why I don’t find being married to specifics beneficial. Always gotta adjust where I’m ending a page, you know? 😂 That’s just me, though… I think most people probably don’t care LOL

I have all the chapters til the end of the comic planned out in a list, but the closer I get, the more I work on the smaller details (I’m also open to adding/removing chapter ideas, which is why I never say how many chapters are left). I always like tying things together and having repetitive actions for characters, so I enjoy an “organically structured” writing style, where I adjust things as I please while still following a guideline LOLOL.

I’ve never changed an idea because of something a reader has said! I think it’s important to stick to your guideline ideas because it’ll make your story feel a lot more consistent if you stay true to your voice. A lot of readers have had great ideas and I LOVE reading them, but I’ve got a very strong Nicole-style 😂 also, if you know where your characters’ growth/stories are headed, you have more insight so your ideas are probably more fitting!

But, I HAVE adjusted certain things if I notice the majority of people aren’t reading a scene/page/character how I intended them to. It’s our job as storytellers to properly convey our intentions, so if I have to emphasize or adjust to be more clear in something, I’m not afraid to do that. 😁💕

My #1 advice if you’re struggling and finding yourself wanting to incorporate readers’ ideas, though, is to tell your initial story ideas to a friend before working on your page/chapter/comic! My bff @thrynnie​ is my editor LOL I tell her what I want to accomplish and what my ideas are, and she helps me make them stronger! She’ll also tell me if something makes sense/doesn’t make sense/should be emphasized/etc. Sometimes even just mentioning our ideas outloud helps us decide if we like them or not, but I can tell you 100% of the time that telling someone else that’s not in your head + seeing your process is suuuuper helpful. 😂

I hope that helps !?!?! This got so long, I’m sorry……… I love storytelling LOLOL XOXO thanks again!! 💘💘💘

[shipmistress9]

Not one of Them - 4

A/N: Wow, the reactions to this story are overwhelming! =O I don't know what to say except THANK YOU!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

. o O o .

Hey, I'm at Tesco's. Do you want me to get something for you?

It was kind of a ritual. When Hiccup was about to spent the night at Heather's, he went shopping on his way toward her and then would ask if she wanted anything. And she always did! It was cute, he supposed. Their... thing! Hiccup didn't really get it when Heather explained it to him but that was true for many things concerning their relationship.

And it wasn't as if he couldn't afford it. His mother had left him enough money. Technically he didn't even need to work if he wouldn't love his job so much. But it was strange nonetheless. Astrid had always insisted on paying her own bills even if he would have taken over hers gladly.

Patiently, he waited for Heather's order of the day. What would it be today? Some expensive liqueur? Or praline? Or was her perfume used up? Her requests were a bit eclectic sometimes and he'd stopped wondering by now. But when her reply came, it surprised him nonetheless.

Sorry, love.

I totally forgot! You can't come over today, I'm not at home.

I need to help my brother, he's gotten into some mischief again.

C U soon. XXX

Hiccup frowned at his phone but then just shrugged and walked over to the till. That was another thing that was strange in a way. Shouldn't he be sad not to see her tonight? Or disappointed at least? Hiccup felt none of that. Instead, he felt elated. Maybe he could spend the night with Astrid on their sofa for once again, simply watching a movie or two. It had been ages since the last time they'd done that! Or just talk, chat a bit. They hadn't talked at all lately, even though Astrid seemed like she desperately needed to talk about something. She was so gloomy all the time, not laughing or joking like she used to.

Hiccup knew that was his fault, though. He barely had any time for her anymore since he saw Heather regularly. That was another thing on his list of weirdness, why Heather dislikes Astrid so much and didn't want him to spend time with her. She was his best friend, wasn't he allowed to spend time with his best friend? But Astrid had just given him a small smile when he'd addressed that topic. A girl has the right to be wary of her boyfriend's female best friend, she'd said and had left him standing. And had become even more reclusive ever since.

Boyfriend though... Another thing on the list. He hadn't planned to throw himself into a solid and exclusive relationship right away. When he'd thought about trying something more solid, he'd thought about seeing a girl more regularly, get to know her and get accustomed to the idea of a relationship without too many rules to start with. But Heather had just rolled her eyes at that and had explained to him how a relationship worked. It was new and complicated but he wanted to try and not ruin everything right away.

Although, by now he wasn't so sure it had been a good idea to try it with Heather. She was alright, pretty and nice but also a bit annoying sometimes. He didn't mind spending his free time with her even though spending it with Astrid had been more fun. And the sex... Well, the sex was great, he couldn't deny that. But it still felt like something was missing and hadn't that been the point of a relationship? To get rid of that feeling in particular? Well, no success there...

He wanted to talk about it all with Astrid. They used to talk about stuff like that! But there was a distance between them lately, one he didn't like but also one he couldn't get rid of. Maybe tonight! Maybe they could finally talk.

When Hiccup parked his beloved Night Fury next to Astrid's Stormfly, he couldn't suppress a smile. So she was home! She'd said so but she could have changed her mind and go to the club after all. She'd done so frequently lately, with or without him and Heather.

Grinning good-humouredly to himself, he all but skipped up the steps to their flat. He unlocked the door and got rid of his leather jacket before he heard the noises. Deep and obviously male grunts, the distinct slapping of skin on skin, and beneath those noises Astrid's low and soft whimpering and gasping. Fuck, she had company. Literally... And from the fact that he could hear them this clearly here in the entrance room, they had to be in in the living room, directly on the other side of the door. That left him only two options. He could wait here until they were done and pretend not to be here or...

Hiccup opened the door to the living room and stepped inside. He'd intended to simply walk past them, unnoticed if possible but couldn't help but pause when he saw them. Well... saw her!

He could see Astrid's bare upper half behind the backrest of one of their sofas as she apparently rode some bloke beneath her. The guy was hidden from his view but the little Hiccup saw, was enough. Astrid was bouncing up and down, head thrown back, eyes closed and her body covered in glistening sweat. A few strands of her hair had become loose from the thick plait on her back, now sticking enticingly to her neck and he couldn't help but stare at her. She was beautiful like a Goddess, even more so than he could have conjured up in his wildest dreams and the sight made his blood boil.

Then she suddenly stopped, eyes wide and a shocked expression on her face – as she stared at him!

"Hiccup!" she screeched, followed by some grumbled protest from below her.

"Erm...hi...," he muttered and averted his eyes after all. "Ah... Don't let me disturb you. I'll just... erm... go and..." he made some indistinct gestures with his hand and fled past them and the kitchen toward the corridor that led to his room. The moment the door closed behind him, his hand was down in his pants, stroking his throbbing cock. Gods, she was personified perfection! So beautiful and sexy and... and Astrid!

Through the paper-thin walls and the rush of blood in his ears, he could hear voices, low and murmuring but still perfectly comprehensible.

"Was that the guy you told me about?" came a deep voice from the other room. "Your friend?"

"Yeah..." Astrid sounded uncomfortable. "But he shouldn't be here"

"So what?" The bloke's unconcerned voice. "Ah, hey! What are you doing, honey?"

"I need to talk to him!" Oh, Hiccup was fucked!

"Without any clothes on?" The guy sounded disbelieving now and Astrid's only answer were some mumbled curses.

Hastily, Hiccup rightened his pants and pretended to be busy getting off his riding leather when Astrid entered his room. She had a thin blanket wrapped around her body, to his utmost relief and disappointment alike, and gave him an unreadable look.

"Hey!" she finally breathed insecurely and all Hiccup could do was answer with the same awkward "Hey"

"You're back early," Astrid pointed out after a pause and Hiccup nodded.

"Yeah," he replied lamely. "Heather kind of stood me up. Has to help her brother or something" He shrugged. It didn't really matter anyway, he wasn't capable of thinking about Heather right now.

"I see," Astrid whispered, awkwardly averting her gaze. "I... I'm sorry for that just now! I didn't think you'd come back and..." She bit her lip and Hiccup couldn't help a warm feeling spreading through his chest.

"Hey, it's okay. It's not like similar hasn't happened the other way around already," He jokingly tried to cheer her up. He didn't want her to feel uncomfortable. Not with him! But then another thought occurred to him and he frowned. "I just... didn't you say you want to spend the night at home? Where did he come from? It's a little early to be back from the club already" At that, a fierce blush spread over Astrid's face and it would have been endearing under different circumstances.

"Erm, right," she started hesitantly. "See... Ahm... His name is Eret. And he... well, he's kind of... my boyfriend"

"Your... what?" Disbelievingly, Hiccup gazed at here. "When did that happen?"

"Yeah, I... I wanted to tell you earlier already. But there never seemed to be the right moment so..." She trailed off and threw him an apologetic look.

"But... how..." Hiccup sputtered. He'd thought he knew what happened in her life! And now she had a boyfriend? Why hadn't she told him?

"Well, we met about... a week ago," Astrid began hesitantly. "He approached me in the club one night. You and Heather had already left and... and it just... seemed to click. We talked for hours about movies and shows and music and so on. It was fun! And he didn't even want sex. And then he called me right the next day, asked whether I wanted to meet him for a drink and... and you know how I hate it when guys unnecessarily hold me in suspense, so I agreed and we talked for hours again before we spent the night in his flat and... and..." Her cheeks were bright pink now and her eyes gleaming. Somehow, Hiccup felt awful but he didn't want to let her see that. She seemed genuinely happy and he didn't want to ruin that for her. It had been a long time since he'd seen her smiling like that after all.

"Hey, that sounds great!" He said with more enthusiasm than he really felt. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" But Astrid gave him no answer to that, just looked at him strangely with a smile that didn't seem to reach her eyes. Then she shook her head, turned and left his room without another word.

Hiccup stared after her at the closed door for a while. He was happy for her! He wanted her to be happy! And if this Eret-guy made her happy then he was happy, too! He told himself this over and over but couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling that tainted his thoughts. He wanted to be happy for her, but couldn't.

Without really knowing why he groaned in frustration and flung his leathers into a corner. He needed to calm down, to think. Why was he so upset all of a sudden? A shower! Maybe he would be able to think clearly again after he'd taken a shower. Making sure Astrid and her boyfriend were safely in her room now, he went to the bathroom and firmly locked the door.

The hot water was soothing and relaxing. For several minutes, Hiccup stood with his head resting against the tiled wall and let the stream run down his back. She had a boyfriend and that was good! He made her happy! Why was it then that he couldn't stop thinking about her? How she'd looked at him, not really smiling? How she'd come into his room, effectively naked beneath that thin blanket? The sight of her when he'd entered the living room...

Oh, Gods... This thought alone made him painfully hard in an instant and he couldn't help but reach for his pulsing cock. It had always been kind of a dream, one he'd hoped might come true one day. Seeing Astrid bouncing up and down, breasts swaying with her movement and her dark blue eyes locked on his even while pleasure consumed her. His hand moved faster up and down his shaft and it took an embarrassingly short amount of time until he came, painting the tiles in hot white stripes. With an ashamed whimper, he sank to his knees a moment later, burying his head in his arms.

He'd always barred himself from using her as inspiration to whack off. Yes, she was hot but it was still wrong. She was not one of them, one of those girls he just had sex with. She was his best friend and deserved better than this! And she had a boyfriend now, he had no business lusting after another man's girlfriend. And, almost as an afterthought, he had a girlfriend, too. Shouldn't he rather picture her?

Groaning and with a considerable amount of self-contempt, he fought himself back on his feet and cleaned up the mess he'd made.

The obvious one, at least.

. o O o .

I had to reorder the following events and can't promise that there'll be an update tomorrow. I promise to hurry, though...

Next chapter

[thecuriouscrusader]

Secretary of the Year

Pairing: Dean Smith x Castiel

Word Count: 2093

Prompt: "I've been killing myself with all this paperwork. It took me thirty minutes to make this hat."

Tags: ‘It’s A Terrible Life’ AU, Humour, Secretary Cas, Sassy Cas, Protective Cas, Basically BAMF Cas, Mentions of Harassment, Boss/Employee to ?

Summary: Cas is not the most typical secretary but he sure as hell gets the job done. 

A/N: Written for @queencflair‘s 2 Broke 2 Care Challenge. An awesome challenge, this was so fun to write! Once again thank you to the awesome @mrsgabrieltrickster for proof reading x

"Good morning, Mr. Smith."

"Mornin', Cas" Dean smiled. "What's on the agenda today?" 

"Uh...give me a moment." 

Dean sighed as he halted next to his secretary's desk. 

"Cas, if you haven't been arranging my schedule then what the hell have you been doing all morning?" 

"I've been killing myself with all this paperwork!" Castiel replied indignantly as he indicated to the heap of documents perched on the edge of his desk. “And, it took me thirty minutes to make this hat" he beamed proudly as he pulled the yellow paper construction out of his drawer. 

Dean hung his head despairingly. "Cas those papers better not be important.”

"They’re from Adler, so of course they aren’t" Castiel replied as he typed on his computer. "It's as if he's never heard of e-mail. Troglodyte." 

Dean tried to fight back a smile because he knew was supposed to be the stern boss, but he failed because it was true; Adler was a douche.

"Okay, you have a lunch meeting at Sotto with Dick Roman, and your report for Mr. Crowley is due at the end of the day." 

"Great" Dean said sarcastically. "Wasn't I supposed to have a meeting with Amara from accounting too?" 

"No, I cancelled that" Castiel said.

"Why?" Dean asked. 

"Because she's a crazy bi-" 

"Smith!" 

Both men looked over to see Zachariah Adler approaching them. 

"What the hell?" Dean whispered to Cas. "I haven't even had my coffee yet, I can't deal with him." 

"I'll handle it" Castiel murmured as he stood up. "Wait" he said as stood up and made a halt gesture in Adler's direction. Alder stopped and glared at Castiel with a perturbed frown. "How may I help you?" Castiel asked.

"I want to talk to Smith." 

"Mr. Smith isn't available at the moment." 

"He's standing right there!" 

"No, no, I’m afraid he’s very busy" Castiel said as he opened the office door and ushered Dean inside. 

Adler scoffed. "This is ridiculous." 

"No, what's ridiculous is that you think you can drop in on a busy man like Mr. Smith without an appointment" Castiel retorted. "Now, you can take a seat and wait for me to announce you, as is proper, or you can make an appointment for a later time." 

"How dare you speak to me like this!?" Adler spat. "I am your superior! I ought to fire you this instant." 

"Well then I'm afraid you'll be looking for a new director of sales because if I go then so will Mr. Smith" Castiel claimed. "He is rather fond of me. And I know he's the best salesman you have so there is no way you would risk losing him." 

Adler took a deep breath. "I'll be back at three" he said through gritted teeth.

Castiel calmly sat down at his computer and typed in silence for a couple of minutes. He could see that Adler was getting even more impatient as time dragged on.

"He can't do three-"

"Forget it!" Adler said as he threw his arm in the air with exasperation. "I'll just send him an e-mail!" 

"Oh, so you have heard of those" Castiel mumbled to himself as Adler stormed away. 

Dean came out of his office laughing.

"Cas, man, you're a miracle worker" he said as he squeezed his secretary’s shoulder.

"That's why you hired me" Castiel smiled. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to make a sword to go with my hat" he said as he grabbed a bunch of paper. “My niece has challenged me to a duel.”

Dean shook his head with disbelief.

"Cas, you know I'm way more than just fond of you, right?" 

"I do, Mr. Smith." 

A week later Dean arrived at work to find that Castiel was absent. He went into his office and was taken by surprise when he found a bunch of flowers on his desk. There was a note attached which read:

Dean, I've really missed our meetings and I can't stop thinking about you. I hope you get well soon, love Amara xxx 

"Get well soon?" Dean murmured confusedly.

There was a knock on the door and Castiel entered carrying some smoothies.

"Good morning, Mr. Smith" he smiled. "I finished your schedule early so I went to get you a kale smoothie since you insist on being on this ridiculous diet."

"There's nothing wrong with being healthy, Cas" Dean reasoned as he took the smoothie. "Thanks." 

"Well, I'll stick to caramel" Castiel said as he took a sip of his own drink. 

"Do you know what this is supposed to mean?" Dean asked as he handed Cas the note from Amara.

"Ah..." Castiel said sheepishly. 

Dean sighed as he sat as his desk. "Cas, what did you say?" 

"Nothing!" Castiel said defensively as he sat at the opposite side of Dean's desk. "I might have simply implied to Amara that you were recovering from bronchitis." 

"Why would you do that?" Dean asked incredulously. 

"Because I don't think you should be around her" Castiel reasoned. "She stalks you. She just comes up with idiotic excuses to meet you every other day; she makes inappropriate comments and leaves even more inappropriate gifts." 

"What's so inappropriate about flowers?" Dean asked.

"Trust me I have confiscated many things that she's obviously bought from stores you have to be over eighteen to enter" Castiel said. "I don't understand why you won't go to human resources about her. She's one step away from groping you-"

"Cas, that's enough" Dean said sternly. "Look, I know that Amara is a little-" 

"-insane" Castiel cut in. 

"Intense" Dean said. "But I can't avoid her forever. Besides, as soon as she thinks I've recovered she's going to want to set up another meeting. I appreciate you looking out for me but I can handle her, alright?" 

"Alright" Castiel nodded. "I understand. I have to find a long term solution." 

Dean sighed. "Cas, no. You've done the opposite and ignored everything I just said." 

"With all due respect, Mr. Smith, I am your secretary, which means it is my job to take care of you and make sure that your days run smoothly. That includes dealing with Amara." 

"Well could you at least say that like you're not going to murder her?" Dean asked. 

Castiel raised his eyebrow and smirked before standing up and heading out of the office. 

"Cas, that wasn't a suggestion" Dean called desperately. "Cas?!" 

Dean did not ask about Amara again until a few days later, mostly because he was scared of the answer. He and Cas were in his office eating lunch when he decided to bring it up.

"So, I haven't heard from Amara since the flowers..." 

"That's because I told her we were engaged." 

Dean was silent for a few moments as he processed the statement. "You did what now?"

"I figured that if Amara thought you were in a permanent relationship she would back off." 

"What if she tells people?" Dean fretted.

"She won't. She won't want anyone to know that she's been lying about your undying love for her." 

"I don't think that combating her with another lie gives you the moral high ground" Dean said uncertainly. 

"Well if you don't want it to be a lie you better find me a diamond ring" Castiel replied. 

Dean burst out laughing. "How are you both the best and the worst secretary I've ever had?" he asked.

Castiel shrugged. "It's a fine line to walk, but I manage." 

There was a knock on the door. Castiel got up and answered it.

"Oh, Mr. Wesson, what a pleasant surprise" he smiled as he stepped aside. 

"Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, call me Sam" the young man insisted. "You're way above me in the pecking order." 

"That doesn't mean you deserve any less respect" Castiel insisted. 

"Yeah, Cas is only an ass to his superiors" Dean pointed out. 

"They deserve it" Castiel said with a smirk at his boss. "What can we do for you, Sam?" He asked kindly as he turned back to the IT assistant. 

"Well, you know how I kinda, sorta...hate my job?" Sam asked sheepishly. Dean nodded. "Well, they just announced that they're looking for a paralegal in the legal department, which is something I'm way more interested in, and I was wondering if you could give me a reference so that I could apply." 

"Yeah, of course!" Dean grinned. "That's awesome, Sammy. Stay and grab a bite with us and we'll talk things over." 

"Thanks that would be great! I'll just go get something from the cafeteria-" 

"That's okay, I'll get you something for the executives lounge" Castiel said. He snatched Dean's wallet off his desk. "Mr. Smith is paying." He left before Dean or Sam could protest.

Sam laughed. "He really does go above and beyond." 

"Yeah, well, he can be disrespectful as hell but I don't know what I'd do without him" Dean said.

"No, Dean, he goes way beyond" Sam stressed. "He's crazy protective of you." 

"I tell him to rein it in sometimes but he won't listen." 

Sam sighed. "It's not a bad thing. It's a...unique thing. You seriously haven't noticed?" 

Dean frowned in contemplation. 

"You...you're saying that Cas is into me?" 

"I'm not saying anything" Sam said as he held up his hands defensively. "I just think it could be a possibility." 

"I don't think so, man. I'm not even sure Cas has feelings." 

"Okay" Sam said dismissively. "Sorry, I thought you would have noticed, and it’s not really my place.”

"It's okay, we're friends" Dean assured him. "But Cas and I are a good team. I don't want to say anything that could jeopardize that." 

"Yeah, of course" Sam said understandingly.

But that did not put Dean’s mind at ease.

The following evening Dean was attending an elegant gala after work to smooth over some potential investors, so he had brought a fresh suit to change into at the office.

He was struggling with his bowtie when Cas entered.

“Mr. Smith, your car has arrived.”

“Thanks. Sorry, Cas, I didn’t realize you were still here” Dean said.

“Well, I couldn’t leave. I knew you were going to need help” Castiel smiled as he indicated to Dean’s tie.

“Cas, you come to work with a backwards tie every morning” Dean sighed as he stood up.

“Yeah, well, I learned to tie them on other people in case of such incidents as this” Castiel said as he took over. “There” he said after a few moments of straightening the tie out. “You are ready to go schmoozing, Mr. Bond.”

Dean smiled softly. “Thanks, Moneypenny.”

“She was actually M’s assistant” Castiel pointed out. “She and Bond just…fooled around at the office” he ended with a wink.

Dean laughed. “We could fool around at the office” he teased.

“Mmm…well if we ever do it’s going to be in Adler’s office” Castiel said seriously. “That would be a big middle finger in his smug face.”

Dean laughed. “Sure. Anyway, I better go. Have a good night.”

“I’m going home to watch Game of Thrones and eat left over Chinese food with my cat; my night is gonna be way better than yours.”

Dean smiled at him again before heading out of the office.

He was waiting for the elevator when his conversation with Sam started playing in his mind again. He thought about all the times Castiel had stood up for him against insufferable co-workers, how at ease they were with each other, and how no matter how crappy the day was they always made each other laugh. They did not have a typical boss/employee relationship, but Dean loved it.  He supposed there really was only one way to find out if the flirtatious banter meant anything more to Cas too.

He hurried back down the hall to find Castiel pulling on his trench coat as he got ready to leave.

“Cas!”

“Mr. Smith?” Castiel asked concernedly as Dean looked a little out of sorts.

“Listen, I really hate going to these things” Dean confessed. “They’re so boring, but…I just thought that maybe if you came with me we could get drunk on expensive champagne we didn’t have to pay for and make of fun what everyone is wearing. Maybe we could go get pizza afterwards? The food they serve is always portioned for ants.”

“That does sound like fun” Castiel smirked.

“Right?” Dean beamed.  “So, what do you say?”

“It’s a date” Castiel smiled.

“Yeah” Dean grinned with equal enthusiasm. “It’s a date.”