#thing whole thing is about three thousand words long and took hours. god damn

[noperopesaredope]

My Voltron Self-Insert OC

Recently, I've been choosing to embrace my inner "cringe" and start creating/reviving my more self-indulgent and goofy fan OCs. Specifically, ones that I'd typically feel "embarrassed" for making. I haven't made too many self-insert OCs over the years, however, I have made one or two, and did have a special "can travel between worlds OC" (who turned into a psychosis-induced coping mechanism for depression). Recently, I remembered one of these self-insert OCs of mine, and decided to bring her back to life.

She holds such a special place in my heart, and I can't bring myself to hate her, especially since she was created during a time when I was still discovering a lot of myself. She is actually an early sign of my gender fluidity, as she has a very masculine name with a very feminine appearance and pronouns. But even then, she’ll fuck around with gender. It doesn't matter to her. She was how I first realized that maybe I’m not cis, and I love her for that.

Plus, I lowkey kinda like her as a character? She was just really fun for me to work with. She was also both very similar to me at the time and very different. For example, she used she/her pronouns, as I was still figuring out my pronouns and gender identity at the time, and I prefer making female characters.

Her personality and the way she presents herself is also very different from both how I was then and how I am now. She honestly seems like a completely different person from me, but I still think of her as a self-insert, because that was the intent at the time. She is pretty cringy in some areas and a little bit OP, but even at the time, I tried to tone her down a bit.

So, without further ado, here is my old Voltron self-insert (warning: this is gonna be long):

Daniel Nathaniel!!!

Daniel is the "Orange Paladin". She is a bit complicated in backstory and stuff, so get ready guys, because this is gonna get a bit wild. There were a lot of intentional "holes" in the backstory with a few twists here and there, so I decided to write what I remembered and fill in the blanks with what I thought would be cool and fit.

Plotline:

Daniel Nathaniel was introduced in Season 2 in an episode titled “The Orange Paladin”. It starts where Voltron is battling a fleet of Galra, and is beginning to get overwhelmed. They aren’t completely losing by any means, but in order to win, they just need a tiny bit of backup. Suddenly, out of nowhere, what appears to be another Voltron lion (but a bit smaller and orange) bursts in and starts assisting them. Everyone is shocked, but they continue fighting, and they win the battle. They then manage to contact the person piloting the strange new lion, and tell them to meet up with them on a nearby planet.

The person agrees, and when they all step outside and watch the new lion land, the entrance to the lion opens, and out steps Daniel. She introduces herself and says that she has a lot of explaining to do. They invite her inside the castle, and once they all sit down, Daniel begins telling her “backstory.” 

She was once a cadet at the Garrison, and when she heard about the missing cadets, she decided to do some investigating. She ended up discovering the cave where the Blue Lion was originally hidden, and found a few clues related to Voltron. She managed to do some digging on the little bits and pieces of history that gave clues to what the lions even were. This led her to a different remote location where she discovered a secret "arch" type thing that turned out to be a portal to a different planet.

There, she stumbled across the “Orange Lion”, and was able to connect with it. Due to the link between lions and their paladins and the fact that the Orange Lion has more telepathic abilities, Daniel was able to learn more about what exactly Voltron was and what the deal was with the Orange Lion. Allegedly, the Orange Lion was not one of the original lions, but one that was made later as a sort of “power up.” 

It didn’t need to be present to form Voltron, it would just be able to attach itself to it and give it extra strength. It was made much later than the others, as a new comet was found around the time Zarkon was beginning to act up. Altean scientists turned it into a small, extra “upgrade” lion that could attach to Voltron, a failsafe for backup due to the escalating conflict. Due to it being finished right near the end of the war, there was no time to find a paladin for it, and it was hidden even further away than the other lions.

Allura and Coran are confused, as they don’t remember any of this. Daniel says that her lion said that Haggar probably messed with everyone’s memories of the Orange Lion so that, in case they managed to get Voltron back together, nobody remembers to look for the Orange Lion. Allura and Coran vaguely recall the Orange Lion, but the memories feel fuzzy and off. However, they don’t question it much.

(Important sidenote: Daniel is lying)

Daniel becomes a member of the team and fights as backup in battle. She also becomes close to the others quite quickly. There are hints here and there of Daniel knowing more than she says, and being in on secrets that she shouldn’t know, but it is continuously brushed off. There are also a lot of holes in her story, especially when she talks about her life before Voltron. In general, there is something incredibly suspicious about her, but it’s just subtle enough for the characters not to question it. However, the show draws just enough attention to these inconsistencies for it to be clear that the viewer is supposed to notice that something is wrong here.

She is wary of Lotor and believes that he is lying, and she says that something feels off about Shiro during Seasons 3-6. There are generally a lot of moments where she appears to know more about people than she lets on.

When everyone learns that Shiro is a clone, they all clearly seem to feel betrayed and want the real Shiro back. But Daniel cautiously argues in favor of the clone, saying that he is currently being mind controlled, and that even if he was kinda being the worst, they still spent a while getting to know Clone Shiro. 

For all they know, he himself might not know that he isn’t the real Shiro. Maybe he himself wasn’t real, but the memories were, and she “knows in her heart” that he wasn’t pretending. Every battle they fought together, every memory they made together, every moment of friendship, all of it was genuine. This speech is written to be emotional, but slightly suspicious, as though Daniel is hiding some things.

The other characters begin to suspect that something is up, and it seems like she is speaking for more than just Clone Shiro. They question her a bit, but eventually decide to just leave it be for now. Small side note about the Clone Shiro plotline: we at some point have a scene in the special realm (can’t remember what it’s called) where the souls of OG Shiro and Clone Shiro get to interact. OG Shiro reveals to Clone Shiro that he was a clone. Clone Shiro is clearly distraught by this, and starts having an existential crisis. He understands that OG deserves to come back, but Clone also doesn’t want to disappear.

OG realizes that despite not being the best, Clone still clearly cares about the team, and he is still his own person. OG ends up giving him an offer. They both want to be Shiro. And right now, their team wants OG back, but OG understands that Clone doesn’t deserve to be left behind or erased. So the best solution would be to merge their souls together and become one person. That way, they can both exist and have the best of both worlds. Clone is hesitant at first, but realizes the advantages to this, and he agrees.

They shake hands, and when Shiro wakes up, he reveals to the team that they (evenly, so it isn’t like there is a dominant personality) merged together into one, and he might be a bit different now, but he’s still Shiro. I believe that this allows everything to be mostly the same, but feels less cruel to Clone Shiro and is more sweet. I remember watching it for the first time and being upset by the whole thing, since Clone Shiro clearly wasn’t trying to betray anyone, and he still formed those bonds with the others. So I decided to fix it a bit by explaining it a little further.

Anyways, back to Daniel. During the latter half of the series, it is revealed that Daniel has been lying about everything this whole time. And when I say everything, I mean everything. I might make this occur during the Season 6 finale, soon after Clone Shiro is revealed, making it a bit of a double hit. Partway through the battle at the end of Season 6, during a big and important moment, Daniel is dramatically injured in front of everyone in the fighting.

An important thing to note here is that, despite fighting multiple harsh battles throughout the series, Daniel has never really gotten hurt before, even minor injuries. Things that have hurt the rest of the team don’t hurt her, or she is consistently the quickest to recover, with no notable damage. It’s almost unusual, and may actually be subtly pointed out at some point. It’s often played off as a coincidence, but astute viewers will notice that something is wrong here.

But when Daniel finally gets injured, it’s significant, as she straight up loses an ear, causing her to bleed in excess. It isn’t overly gorey, with her covering that area with her hand, and the injury isn’t focused on, but the blood is clearly there. But instead of red blood, she is bleeding green. She stands there in shock as the other characters present look at the ground to the detached ear, which has turned into what looks like a blue, bat-ear-shaped ear. Daniel looks at the ear, then the others as different areas of her body begin to shift and change into something different, but in a held back way. She is trying to hold it back.

Pidge (who is likely the one standing closest to her, asks “who are you?” Daniel quickly says that she is still Daniel, and that she isn’t a fake version. Pidge then says “well, you clearly aren’t who you pretend you are.” And finally, Daniel admits that the Orange Paladin never really existed, that it was all a lie, and almost everything they knew about her was made up. There is no Fake Daniel, because Daniel was always fake.

She then passes out due to blood loss, and they manage to patch her up while trying to figure out their next steps. When she eventually wakes up, Daniel decides to tell everyone the truth.

She is what’s known as a Mutivesstallus, a member of a species which was nearly wiped out by Zarkon and the Galra. Mutivessallum (the plural for Mutivesstallus) have two primary abilities: shapeshifting and extreme mind powers. They are able to read minds, peer into others’ memories, slightly alter existing memories (though this is harder, and once someone realizes that the memory was false, they will remember the original memory), and generally scan people’s psychies. They can often figure out more about a person than the person knows about themselves. Mutivessallum are often hyper-empathic and very understanding, and have the unfortunate flaw of constantly giving others the benefit of the doubt and being overly forgiving.

Mutivessallum’s shapeshifting is only limited to organic and living species, and they have a harder time shifting into beings that are larger than them. However, with time and practice, a Mutivessallus is able to shift into a large variety of things. Daniel, having lived for a long while (she’s still somewhat young for her species, but has existed for quite a while due to longer lifespans), is relatively experienced enough to shapeshift into something like a human, which is about her size. However, due to me not wanting her to get too OP, she has a harder time shifting into bigger creatures, or can only shift into a select few due to practicing shifting into specific ones with similar biology to her kind.

After many of the Mutivessallum were destroyed, Daniel (who’s real name is something else, but none of the other characters can pronounce it, so she says they can still call her Daniel) was left alone and vengeful. She wished to destroy Zarkon, but didn’t have the means to, and all she could do was wander space and travel to other planets. Then, word spread about Voltron, and Daniel became hopeful. She wanted to help them defeat Zarkon and maybe become a member of their team. For complicated reasons (even before this reveal, she is consistently shown to think in a very different way from everyone else and has an unusual line of logic), she decides to go and find a legendary wish-granting being who is able to create most anything in the universe. Due to already being close to said being, she asks them to help her make a Voltron lion of her own so she can join Voltron and help them.

The being thinks that this is a bad idea, but Daniel manages to convince them to do it, and together, they design something extremely close to a lion that can be semi-compatible with Voltron. The being then grants her wish, and Daniel's beloved ship is transformed into this thing. Daniel believes that the team won’t accept her if she is her real self, so she decides to make a person for herself that will “make them more comfortable around me.” She does some research on humans, and gives herself a unique human form with a false identity. “They will trust another human like them than a random creature like me.” 

Upon meeting the team and them beginning to ask questions, Daniel begins to panic, and worries that they will kick her out if they learn the truth about her and her lion. So she lies. She later works on constructing a more stable and well thought out backstory for herself, and using her powers, she manages to trick everyone into believing her story.

Everyone feels extremely betrayed and conflicted, because she has been a legitimately great friend to them, and she seems legitimately sorry. She’s also done a lot of stuff that has gained their trust, and proven that she genuinely wants to be a part of the team. She cares about them and thinks of them as a second family to her, and she fully believes in their cause. The problem is that she lied to them for a long while, and basically gaslit them. They decide not to kick her out, but they do let her know that she’ll need to earn their trust back, and stop lying. From then on, Daniel mostly remains in her true form, and she changes her lion to be its own thing.

This is good, because the Orange Lion was previously slightly messing up the balance between the lions, and it was already basically its own thing. Daniel begins to let her true self show and separates herself from her human persona. But everyone soon realizes that her persona and her true self weren’t completely separate. Yes, her identity was fake, but her personality was not. Some of her human-specific interests were things she used to seem more human, but once she tried them, she genuinely enjoyed them, and even continued to engage in the same hobbies as she did when she was pretending to be human.

Even elements of her fictional life on Earth are not that different from her real life. She had a younger sibling, and most of the stories she told about her friends and family are slightly true, just altered to fit with Earth customs.

About 5 or so episodes into Season 7, a few of the others catch her hanging out in her human form, and she admits that she feels comfortable in it, and that every form she creates for herself feels like one of her “true forms”. Her human form isn’t just a persona, and she confesses that she feels like her real self in both forms. They all agree that she can still go into her human form, she just shouldn’t pretend that she was born a human, and that this is merely one of her alternate forms.

So for the rest of the series, Daniel switches back and forth between forms, and even shifts into other forms that she has taken on in the past. She also is more open about using her powers, letting the others know when she has sensed something with her powers or found out something. She later admits that she feels incredibly free being every version of herself and not hiding anything. 

Gradually, the others forgive her, and begin to trust her again, especially since she doesn’t use her powers on them. She still senses their emotions and can subtly read what is generally on their mind, but that is because she can’t turn off that part of her powers. They understand this, and she rarely does anything with any knowledge she has on them. Even though her role in the team has somewhat changed, everyone still feels like she is a part of the team, she is just more similar to Coran or Season 1-2 Allura now.

So, that’s most of what I have for Daniel’s storyline in the series! This post is getting pretty long, so I will soon make a part 2 explaining her personality (which is probably more important than her storyline, but whatever) and her relationships with the other characters. But for now, I hope you liked her.

When I first created Daniel in middle school, I realized that there were lots of holes in her backstory, to the point that I even made it so that the others were suspicious of her. It just didn’t make much sense for there to be another lion, and I always wanted her to pick up on more than she should. I early on had given her mind powers that allowed her to know more than she should, but even then that felt out of place. Slightly later on, but still during middle school, I wanted her to secretly be an alien, but it just added a few more holes. Why wasn’t anyone questioning it? 

Then, recently, while coming back to her, I thought, “what if all her odd character traits were the point? What if she was a character who was able to slightly manipulate the world around her so that she could be important to the story? What if she was a slightly meta commentary on how self-inserts will manipulate the entire story and lore in order to make the author feel like they can belong in this fictional world?” I thought that could be pretty fun, so I ran with it. Daniel is not supposed to fit. Her backstory is supposed to not make sense. She is not supposed to be there. That is the point.

However, she doesn’t do all this out of malice. She does it because she wants somewhere to belong. She wants to belong to a specific group of people, she wants to fit in with them and join them on adventures and be cool like them. But she can’t find a way to do that, so she twists the world around her in order to fit into the narrative. I try to be careful about how I present her morality, and how she isn’t a bad person, but she has done something bad by manipulating and lying. It does take some work for the team to forgive her, but they do learn to forgive her, because she changes and grows. And even if her story was fake, the bonds were real. Her personality is real. Even her fake identity has some genuineness to it.

I really loved working on her, especially the meta aspect of her story, and I enjoy writing about her and her interactions with the team. She is a sweetheart who is flawed and messy, and even though she can be a bit of a Mary Sue, I don’t really care. Plus, that is the idea. She is supposed to be a Mary Sue on a narrative level, and even then, she breaks some of the conventions because her actions have consequences and she fails frequently.

So she is generally a fun character to me, and I hope other people think she’s interesting. But at the end of the day, she was born a self-indulgent self insert, and I don’t really care if people think she is cringy. I enjoyed writing about her, and I hope to make more art of her, since she was really fun to draw. I hope some of ya’ll are willing to hear more about her. Stay tuned if you’re curious!

[akystaracer22]

I have a habit almost nobody practices. It's stupid, completely inconsequential and I've even been bullied for it. But I like it, and it's become such an important part of me that I can't change it if I tried.

It's called Timekeeping.

A thousand milliseconds in a second.

Sixty seconds in a minute.

Sixty minutes in an hour

Twenty-four hours in a day

Seven days in a week.

My habit goes on.

It's always there at the back of my mind, keeping track of that funny little thing called time.

I know it's been exactly Ten years, Four months, Two weeks, One day, Twelve hours, Thirty-seven minutes and Sixteen seconds as of this moment since I have started this habit. It was hard at first, what with the whole concept of time being all but erased from the planet, but the old internet was still reliable for those who used it. The concept of time fascinated me from the moment I first heard of it, and I couldn't help myself, I became possibly the only human alive to keep track of it.

It had its upsides and its downsides however, like all things did. The adults didn't really like it at first, and my peers bullied the fuck out of me for it. But it almost became a challenge for me, how good could I get at "keeping track of time" as I call it.

Turns out pretty good.

Today when I woke up I was able to tell that I'd been asleep for exactly seven hours, three minutes and twenty four seconds, which is supposedly below average from what I read.

Later, when one of my classmates asked how long it would be until first period ended, before anyone could reply with the stupid boring "Soon" or "When the bell ring's" I blurted out "Twelve minutes and Fourty-eight seconds."

Believe it or not but I'm not trying to sound pretentious. When the concept of time becomes applicable my mouth works before my brain does. My class know the basics of my "Timekeeping Condition" as the adults call it. They know the units and how many are in what but... they don't get it get it.

Being able to "tell time" as the old humans put it is just part of who I am now... and it's weird. I know it is. I tried to stop once too but all it took was my friend joking about how he'd been alive forever and the words "Fifteen years, Eight months, One Week, Six Days, Thirty-two minutes, and Fourty-nine seconds," slipped out before I even had time to process I said them. That was One year, Eleven months, Three weeks, Two days, and exactly One hour ago.

Two day's, Eight hours, Fourty mintues and Two seconds later found me in the office of my local GP, but that moment with my friend was when I realised that it was going too far.

I'd only seen my friends birth certificate once, his family was super traditional and it was the only thing with a time in the house.

It was the first time I was ever scared of my ability to keep track of time.

It was like I'd been cursed with some sort of time related affliction, maybe it was the gods way of punishing the people of earth for forgetting that once so important measurement. That pillar of society that has been forgotten in the changing tides of history.

My parents certainly thought so, yelling at the doctor and Seven Hours, Thirteen minutes and Seven seconds later the Psychiatrist that the doctor referred me to. Pleading to find something to fix me, to save me from myself.

I felt like a madman that day.

I still have to have tests taken, scientists just love to try and figure out just how my brain got so damn good at this. How it's able to latch onto those specific numbers associated with time - my Math grades demonstrated it was just time - and keep track so perfectly that even years later I can tell people with complete accuracy the exact time and date they requested.

"When did the session start."

Fifteen minutes, Thirty seconds, and One Hundred and Eighty-Six milliseconds from now.

"How long has it been since you have last eaten."

Three hours, Twelve minutes, Seven seconds, Eight Hundred and Two milliseconds ago.

"What will the date be in 103... day's? is that the term you use for it?"

April the Third Thirty Twenty-one.

Every Two Weeks, since that fateful day they learned my little habit had taken over too much of me.

I felt like a lab rat... I was one.

I don't know what will happen to me come the inevitable summer holiday's. I'm seventeen now I know what will happen.

My parents never said a word about employment or further education. They talked about moving, about this nice little place I'd feel at home. They talked about a cage.

I have to go to school each day knowing I'm ticking closer to my last day free. I think my friend knows it too, he stopped asking me to play time keeper for me. He started asking me more questions of how it worked. He asked me to teach him how to tell time like I can.

I hate how much it means to me to actually have someone sitting with me every day whenever possible, listening intently as I'm able to explain in depth with an actual person, a friend, how I tell time.

Just Yesterday he was able to announce how much longer until the bell rang to signal the end of lunch. I hugged him for the rest of that time because it just felt so good to have someone else keep track of the time for a second I almost felt human. What my friend did was more than any of the whackjobs "monitoring" me ever thought to do.

He also came over to my house and discussed way's he could potentially become a full on Psychiatrist in the future, he had a whole path mapped out and everything. He definitely has the grades to do it.

He shouldn't be doing all this for me, I'm just too desperate to say no.

When in doubt, just keep the internal clock ticking Horace.

Just keep it ticking.

It’s the year 3020, and humans have achieved immortality through advanced technology. However, with the option of living forever, the concept of time has lost all meaning. Write a story about an average day in this new reality.

[egcdeath]

finders keepers

summary: did captain america just steal your cat?

pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, strangers to lovers

author’s note: it’s been way too long since i wrote some pure, self indulgent fluff. this has been quite the refreshing experience for me but i think it’s back to our regularly scheduled program after this ;)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Miso had an air of arrogance that you admired. She took the world by its kitty balls, doing whatever she pleased whenever she pleased. Your cat left the apartment for sometimes days at a time, and frequently led male cats to your door. To you, your cat was more like a roommate than a pet, hogging up most of your bed, standing on the counter while you attempted to make food for yourself, and leaving most areas dirtier than she originally found it. 

Okay, maybe you were personifying your cat a little too much. But after moving out to D.C., you were unspeakably lonely. Most days, it felt like Miso was all you had, and that you were all Miso had (save for her army of cat boyfriends). 

This made things all the more concerning for you when you’d realized that you hadn’t seen your cat companion in five days. Five whole days without the comforting vibration of her purr, her ungodly hours of wakeup calls demanding to be played with, or pet. The cherry on top was that the cat food outside your door appeared to be completely untouched.

In your frenzied realization of your missing cat, your mind raced with a thousand different terrible situations your dear Miso could’ve found herself in. You frantically clicked through pictures of her on an online album and attempted to find a photo that would capture her white fur with large blobs of auburn, and her vibrant blue eyes to put on your ‘MISSING’ sign. The longer you clicked, the more that you began to worry that she had been caught and kidnapped by some terrible person with bad intentions. 

You finally threw together the poster, sending it to your phone so that you could print it off at the OfficeMax down the street. Luckily for you, you didn’t make it that far, as the moment you began to lock the closed door of your apartment, you saw the unmistakable figure of your cat. 

In the arms of your neighbor.

Now, you’d never met Steve. He was an Avenger, Captain America to be exact, and you were just… you. You’d convinced yourself that attempting to introduce yourself to him would ultimately end in failure, and an embarrassing one at that. Maybe he’d scoff and walk away, or call Tony Stark in front of you and tell him about the crazy woman he just encountered. 

But none of that mattered. Captain America was stealing your fucking cat. 

“Excuse me, sir?” You asked, stepping away from your door and approaching the Greek God of a man to the right of you. 

“Oh, hey! We must be n-“

“You have my cat,” you said bluntly.

“I’m sorry, what?” Steve seemed to do a double take

“My cat, y’know, the feline in your arms.”

“Well, maybe we just have similar looking cats. This is Arabella.”

You nearly scoffed at this, shaking your head. First, Captain America kidnapped your cat, and now he’s trying to convince you that it’s not your cat? Yeah, you’d know Miso from a mile away. And what kind of name is Arabella?

“Arabella is a great name for her,” Steve retorted, pulling the cat closer to his chest. Shit, did you say that out loud?

“Well I think it’s time for Miso to come back home,” the cat’s ears perked at this, and she glanced over at you. The sight of you made her wiggle and hop out of Steve’s tight embrace, landing on her feet and trotting over to you. The damn cat rubbed her face against your calf and purred as if she hadn’t been cheating on you for long enough to have gained a new name.

You squatted down and rubbed the back of your hand against her cheek, and shook your head at your pet, “you’re getting put on probation, young lady.” 

She didn’t seem to mind, pacing back and forth around you. You glanced up and saw Steve with a rather neutral expression on his face, as if he was masking whatever it was that he was feeling.

“I’m sorry about that, ma’am. Uh, maybe I’ll see you both around sometime,” disappointment coated his every word before he opened up his apartment door and promptly closed it behind him. 

You were surprised at how quickly he conceded, but you weren’t particularly mad about it either. You weren’t sure what you’d do if you never got your Miso back.

——

A whole day later, you’d been in your apartment typing up an email when a soft rapping at your door got your attention.

“Just a second!” you called, hopping up and hurrying to the door. When you opened it, Steve was standing in front of you, waiting with an oversized box in his hands.

“These are some of Ar- Miso?” he trailed off, waiting for you to confirm the name, and you gave him a tiny nod. “These are some of Miso’s toys. I just figured if she’s not staying at my place anymore…”

As if on cue, Miso strolled up to the door, and stretched her arms up on Steve’s leg, begging to be picked up. The man glanced at you for approval, and you gave a dismissive shrug before he set down the box, and held up the cat.

Steve frowned as he held her, and frankly, it pulled on your heart strings. You had to remind yourself that this man had been holding your cat captive for at least a week, and at most… who knows. 

She clearly had a connection with him, and that was what intrigued you most. Miso was a very picky cat, and it was only occasionally that she found someone that she genuinely liked, let alone wanted to be picked up by. If you continued to watch the display of affection in front of you, you might just cave.

“Uh, I left something in the oven for a little too long, so I should probably go get that. Thanks for stopping by.”

Steve nodded, understanding that it was time for him to exit.

——

You should’ve seen this coming the minute Miso was back in your home. You stepped out of the shower one morning to find your front door slightly ajar, and your animal nowhere to be found. 

You huffed, frustrated that just three days after you told yourself that your cat was completely indoor from that point on, she had escaped. She could literally be anywhere at this point.

In a whirlwind, you threw on a sweatshirt and pants, ready to go print out the missing posters that you had designed just a few days ago. As you slipped on sneakers, you realized something very crucial. She might just be at Steve’s place.

You groaned aloud, rubbing your temple as you thought of how difficult your cat was being. You were becoming a bit nervous to approach Steve, you hadn’t gotten off to the greatest start, and if your cat wasn’t there, things might just be awkward.

Regardless, you knew you needed to try, so you exited your own home, and knocked on the door of Steve’s.

A few moments later, he appeared with your cat in tow. 

“Hey!” he paused and trailed off, “I never got your name before.”

“That’s what you care about right now?” you glanced down at your animal. “It’s Y/N, by the way.”

“Hi, Y/N. Miso and I were just enjoying breakfast, if you’d like to join us?”

Was Steve shooting his shot? 

“I appreciate your offer, but I think I’m alright. I have to get back to work, and my cat is still in your custody,” your eyes flickered down to the animal who stood proudly by his side. 

“Maybe some other time,” he shrugged. “You work from home?”

You nodded, then squatted down to get eye level with your cat. 

“I’m jealous,” he chuckled. “Alright, I’ll stop bothering you now. Bye Miso, see you around, Y/N.”

You picked up your cat, who briefly dug her nails into the ground in resistance before submitting to her capture. As you brought her back home, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made the right choice.

——

Ever since you’d discovered Miso, or Arabella’s secret life, it’s like you couldn’t stop noticing her connection to Steve. 

Some days, she’d be gone until the dead of night, when she’d meow and paw at your front door until you woke up. Other times she’d be laying in bed with you, and she smelled distinctly of your neighbor. Your cat had single handedly turned a stranger into a thoroughly integrated part of your life.

It was as if Miso was now your child, and Steve your ex-husband in a Cold War style custody battle, where Miso seemed to prefer her father. It was slightly disheartening. At the very least, you knew she was in good hands. 

You held a throw pillow to your chest while you watched a rerun of a sitcom on your television, procrastinating in your work for as long as you possibly could. The sound of a knock on your door pulled you from your trance, and as you peeked through the peephole of your door, you saw a slightly distorted Steve.

Opening up the door, you gave him just the faintest hint of a smile, “what’s up, neighbor? Need me to grab you some treats for Arabella, or something?”

“Kinda the opposite,” he gestured with his head down to the cat squirming in his hands. “I’m gonna be gone on a mission for the next week or so. I just wanted to let you know that if Miso gets out, she’s not with me.” 

Steve set her down on your carpet, and she happily collapsed at your feet, “keep her safe for me, alright?” 

——

You took a deep breath as you approached his door, hoping he hadn’t left just yet. You fiddled with the sticky note containing your number, and polaroid photo of your cat in your hand, considering turning around and scrapping the idea all together. 

It was silly to think that an Avenger would ever bother reaching out to you. You were probably overstepping anyway. Steve would think you were a freak and take full custody of your beloved Miso once and for all. 

Going against your better judgment, you set down the polaroid-note combo and quickly slid it under Steve’s door. Whatever happened happened.

The next morning, you were pleased to receive a notification from an unknown number. 

Send Miso pics?

You were more than happy to oblige. 

——

Over the course of Steve’s week-long mission, you’d sent several pictures and videos of your cat doing random things. Trying to get on the table, sleeping on top of your dryer, and even playing with one of the toys Steve provided.

Surprisingly, Steve wasn’t as dry of a texter as you thought he’d be. He was eating up all of the Miso content, and would occasionally even ask for you to send more photos. 

The final night of his mission, you were surprised when you received a FaceTime request, at first writing it off as a technical error (he was from a different time period, after all), but the follow up call demonstrated his intentions.

You cautiously picked up, the knot in your stomach growing as you did so, “hello?”

“Hi!” Steve greeted optimistically, the phone just a bit too close to his face. “Any Miso sightings?”

“Yeah, she’s actually sleeping on my foot right now,” you chuckled, flipping the camera so you could show her off in your dim, lamp-lit bedroom. 

“So cute,” he hummed, “how have you been?”

“Me?” you laughed quietly, “I’m not the one on a top secret mission in god-knows-where. But I’ve been fine. How are you?”

“Honestly? I’m pretty tired. Kinda can’t wait to get home and see you and Miso,” he said in a quieter voice. 

Your brain stalled out for a second. Steve was excited to see you? You hoped that you were reading this the right way, as you were more than willing to go with whatever it was that Steve was putting down.

“We’ll be expecting an immediate visit from you, then. I’ll let Miso know that she needs to start kneading a bread loaf for you as soon as possible. Any idea of what time you’re getting into D.C.?” 

“Probably late morning, but it really depends on when Natasha gets up.”

You had a moment where you realized that you were talking to a real life superhero, and he had just referenced his friend… who was also a superhero. You paused for a second. 

“Y/N? Hey, you still here?”

“Yeah! Yeah. I just zoned out for a sec. Well, you better get here safe or else someone is going to be very annoyed with you.”

Steve laughed softly across the line, and you adjusted yourself in bed, yawning softly.

“I’m sorry, I forgot how late it is over there,” Steve apologized.

“Don’t worry, I was up anyway. One of Miso’s boyfriends is pretty upset that he can’t come in here and spend the night with her.”

“Which one?”

“I think that grey one. I don’t really know what his voice sounds like, but she’s been leading him on lately,” you responded, eliciting a laugh from both you and Steve. 

“Try to get some sleep, okay? I don’t need you snoozing while I come to visit our girl.”

“You are something else, Steve Rogers,” you said fondly, adjusting your phone one last time as you hugged a pillow. “I’ll get to sleep. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

You hung up, and cuddled into your pillow with a sigh. Calling your dreams that night sweet was an understatement. 

——

You seemed to be Steve’s first stop after his mission, stopping at your door with his duffel bag still attached to his arm, and wearing a slightly dirty and much too small white t-shirt.

Expecting his presence, you quickly got the door and gave him a toothy grin. 

“It’s so good to see your face without a screen,” Steve commented. Internally, you swooned. 

“I could say the same for you, Steve.”

Miso had been summoned by the sound of Steve’s voice, practically sprinting to the door and meowing at him on the top of her lungs. 

“Miso really appreciates you coming here to see her first,” you added as he lifted her up and quietly cooed into her wrinkly head. “Feel free to take her for the next few days. I’m sure she’s getting tired of me.”

Steve shook his head at you, and grinned, “that’s so sweet of you,” he briefly looked down at his wristwatch, and his brows raised.

“Shit. I have to go, but I promise to see you soon. I’m glad to see that everything is well. Take care, Y/N,” Steve began making his way back to his own apartment, and you watched him with the semblance of a frown. 

You really needed to stop longing for the unobtainable. 

——

You hadn’t heard from Steve in a few days following his return, and your brief interaction with him. Part of you wondered if he was avoiding you for some  reason. 

Your phone lit up the room as it went off, and you grabbed it to look at the notification you received.

A picture of Steve grinning with Miso sitting on his chest looked back at you with a simple message connected to it.

Wanna come over? :D

[rowanaelinn]

Safe Place

rowaelin month day four : librairies @rowaelinscourt

warning: not descriptive nsfw content

Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius could be described as a calm male. Out of all his companions, he probably was the one with the most self-control and he thanked the Gods for it every time one of his friends said something stupid.

However, it didn’t apply when his wife was concerned. Around Aelin, Rowan’s self-control seemed to vanish. She had the ability to get him angry, to become a blushing mess or a soft idiot with just one sentence. There was no control around his mate and it was one of the reasons he loved her.

But when he woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, Rowan lost the little human part he had in himself. Rowan lost all control the moment he smelled a lingering scent of fear. Her fear.

Has she been taken again?

Has it all been a dream? Had he not got her back?

In a second, Rowan was standing, knives at the ready around his waist. He would fight to get her back if he had to. Not having Aelin by his side made him feel like all the air in the world was gone.

Rowan wanted to yell at himself for falling asleep, he should have protected her.

In all the times her Fireheart was in danger, Rowan was never there to protect her. What a poor excuse of a husband and mate he was. He still didn't know why his queen was keeping him and hadn't already thrown him out. He was useless. Completely useless.

He kept complaining because of the royal duties, kept saying he liked being a prince just fine because it didn’t bring him any mess. His only role as King Consort, mate, and husband was to protect Aelin and he had shown the world how bad he was at it. Multiple times.

She wasn’t okay, he could feel her sadness from her side of the bond. Rowan felt like a prick for being relieved at the feeling of her emotions just because it meant she was still alive and not in a damn iron coffin that blocked every chance for them to communicate.

First, he came out of the royal apartments, following Aelin’s faint scent. She had become so damn good at hiding herself with her magic, a trick Fenrys taught all of them. It was a useful skill to have, Rowan was relieved most of the time no one could track her with her scent but he wasn’t tonight. Not when he needed to see her.

Thankfully with Aelin’s condition lately, her scent was stronger which meant she couldn’t cover up all of it. He refused to imagine she had been taken away until he had searched the entire castle twice. She had to be here, somewhere.

He went first to the kitchen, hoping to find her behind the counter, a plate with chocolate cake in front of her. She would look up, fork still in mouth and she would smile guiltily at him. She would apologize, saying she was always so hungry lately and he would shake it off, taking another fork and join her even if he hated cake. Just to show her she wasn’t alone.

But when he opened the door, the kitchen was empty, making Rowan’s heart clench.

Next, he went to the throne room, hoping to find her sitting on her throne, a sad smile on her face she would try to conceal with a smirk. He would ask her what she was doing here and she would tell him she needed to be alone and to feel in power, and what better than her throne to make her feel powerful? But this room was empty too, and Rowan’s heart crushed a little further.

Maybe she was in the inside cemetery, kneeling between both her parent’s graves. She would look up at him and wouldn’t try to hide her tears. She would have a smile on her face, telling him she needed to feel close to them. To be between the two of them without waking up with blood everywhere. Rowan would nod and sit behind her, letting her rest her back on his chest and he would let her cry bringing her all the comfort she needed. But she wasn’t here, and Rowan didn’t know where to look for her now.

If they were in Rifthold, he would probably think she was speaking to either Sam or Nehemia, telling both of them everything about what happened in their court since the last time she spoke to them.

But they weren’t in Adarlan so it left only one place where she could be. His walk to the library was slow, slower than he wished. He could just shift and fly instead of taking all the stairs but if she was there she would make fun of him for it, she had enough to tease him already.

When he arrived at the library, as always, he was dazzled by the splendor of the room. The last time the librarians counted, Aelin and Rowan owned three hundred thousand books and that was a decade ago, just after the construction work was finished.

Aelin had cried and laughed and smiled for hours when she first saw it, walking through all the sections to see every book, then made love to Rowan on the floor, more tenderly than they were both used to, to thank him.

As if seized by a frenzy, Rowan walked like a mad man through the library to find her. He regretted giving her something so big, having to look at every fucking row. There were so many places to hide.

After what seemed like hours, Roan saw familiar blonde hair. He let a sob come out in relief. She wasn't gone. There was no Valg Queen that had pulled her away from Rowan, no, his Fireheart was just sitting on a couch that looked very comfortable, six pillows behind her back.

"Rowan?" She asked, raising her eyes full of concern. "Is everything okay?" Her eyebrows were furrowed.

Instead of answering, he rushed to her side, falling onto her lap to be on the same level as her and scanning her entire body to make sure she was okay and truly in front of him.

His eyes fell on a small scar on her right knee, a scar she had made during one of their training sessions. He remembered kissing the mark every night for weeks when he noticed it after enjoying his wife's goddess body. He hadn't noticed that she was injured during their workout and he felt terrible about it.

Aelin kept telling him he was fussing, but he knew deep down she liked it. She loved to be cherished and protected. He dropped his head to her lap, unable to fight a sob. She put her book aside, sitting straighter and one of her hands found her way in his hair. Rowan hated himself for the tears streaming down his face as he looked up at her, he hated himself even more for the look of agony on his mate’s face.

“Speak to me, please.” She begged him, her hand still playing in his hair.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even and strong but he couldn’t. “I thought you were gone.” He breathed deeply, trying to calm down and focusing on where he touched her, his hands and arms on her legs. “I woke up to an empty bed and your fearful scent and I panicked.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Rowan.”

“You weren’t supposed to go anywhere either last time but you still did.” He hated the poisonous words the moment they felt his mouth but his mate didn’t seem hurt, knowing anger was his way to cope.  “I’m sorry,” He hid his face on her leg, not wanting to see her hurt face.

“Don’t be,” Was the only thing she said as she kept stroking his hair. She was too good to him, she had always been. She had known so much pain her entire life but she was still an amazing person, Rowan didn’t know how much strength it must take her. The Gods knew Rowan lacked that particular strength when the time had come, he had turned into the worst version of himself. He admired his Fireheart.

After a moment, Rowan looked back at her and she smiled, his entire world brightened at this. She was okay, she was right here with him. She was safe.

“How are you?” He asked, feeling selfish for crying when she was the one who had a nightmare.

“We’re both okay, Rowan.” She reassured him as her free hand came to rest on her slightly rounded belly. Rowan’s heart swelled at the sight, he still couldn’t believe it. After years, decades, of trying Azlin was pregnant. She had been glowing for the past four months, even if she said otherwise.

“Is she still kicking?” He asked, one of his hands joining Aelin’s.

“Your son is restless, I hope you slept enough in your life because he’s not going to let us sleep much once he’s here.”

Both Aelin and him had a divergence of opinion on their baby’s sex. Aelin was sure it was a boy, whereas Rowan believed it was a girl. A girl had been their oldest in the vision he had for months when Aelin was gone. It had been too realistic to be a dream, had felt too real.

Yrene knew and had asked them if they wanted to know, but both of them agreed they wanted to keep it secret. They had too many surprises in their lives and none of them had been good, but this one would be. No more surprises unless it’s a good one.

“She’ll be worth every sleepless night.” His lips turned into a smile at the idea of a little Aelin and Rowan.

Aelin snorted. “Wait until you have to change diapers.”

At that, Rowan laughed, soon followed by Aelin. When he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes, his smile faded. “What did you dream of?” He asked, needing to know why his wife had left their room after a nightmare instead of waking him up.

She lost her smile too, her body tenser than moments ago. “Nothing important.”

“Please, tell me.”

She took a deep breath and some time to answer. Rowan didn’t mind, he’d give her eternity if she needed as long as he knew what troubled his wife. He got up, lifted Aelin's legs so he could sit next to her, and then rested her legs on his while he caressed her thighs in comfort. “I was you.”

“With Maeve?”

She shook her head making his confusion grow. She had already told him about nightmares of him being taken on that beach, of him being whipped and tortured for months. He had held her as she cried, as she told him the pain of losing him would have been so much more than the pain she experienced all these months away from him.

“In Arobynn’s cave.” She whispered as tears pooled in her eyes. He wouldn’t take her in his arms, he would wait for her to do it first, no need to overwhelm her. “With your eyes missing, whole body destroyed and a cold body.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Fireheart…”

“Have you ever dreamed of me like that?” She asked and he knew she didn’t mean just dreams of her, dead.

“I did.” He admitted, his heart beating faster at the thought of it. “First in Wendlyn, when you left for Rifthold. Every time I closed my eyes I lived the day I found Lyria over and over again. But it wasn’t her small body that I saw, it was yours. It haunted me for months.” He took a deep breath, controlling his emotions. Aelin was crying, she didn’t need someone else to become a wreck. “Then when you told me you were pregnant, it started again.”

It happened more than he wanted to admit. He knew it wouldn’t happen, it was impossible, but he still could see her dead body in front of his destroyed mountain home.

Aelin didn’t say anything but she straddled him, his hands finding her waist as her fingers slipped through his hair. Her forehead came to rest on his as they both closed their eyes, enjoying each other’s company. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

His hand stroked her back, his fingers drawing the lines of his tattoo he knew by heart now. Every part of her body was written in his mind. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I know it’s rare lately.” Her warm hand cupped his cheek and he sighed in her embrace. “Whenever I don’t feel okay and you’re not around, I come here.”

“The library?”

“Or the theater if I feel like walking.” Which wasn’t a lot lately, his wife’s pregnancy was taking her so much energy they didn’t go to the theater in months. She was always so tired or in pain, he knew she missed it. “Whenever I’m here, I feel so close to you, as if part of your soul was here between these walls.”

His heart clenched at it, he lifted up his head, his lips settled gently on hers. He kissed her languidly, generously, putting as much love and passion as he could. He loved her so much he felt like dying. He would die without her.

Slowly, she began to unbutton his shirt, her tongue continuing to play with Rowan's. The kiss turned from passionate to needy. He needed the reassurance she was here, she was with him, and his mate knew it.

In a matter of moments, Rowan was shirtless and had pulled her nightgown over her head, revealing her naked body. Aelin had gained weight in the years since the war, her body that had once been too thin was now full. She had had a hard time adjusting, she had been starving most of her life. Even during her years with Arobynn, she was always under a strict diet to stay the best. She had never been in a stable enough place for her to thrive.

So when her flat stomach rounded out, thighs grew and cheeks filled out, it was a shock. Rowan had been there to worship her body day and night, reminding her that she was just living, and seeing her happy was the most beautiful thing Rowan had ever seen.

One of Rowan’s hands was teasing Aelin’s sensitive nipple, tearing little cries out of her perfect, delicate, lips. Her hands undid his buckle quickly as Rowan lifted his hips to slide his pants and underwear down, freeing his hard member.

Aelin didn’t waste time before taking him, her hand around him applying just the right amount of pressure. His hand slipped between her legs, directly finding her wet and warm entrance. They moaned together as Aelin’s hand movement quickened and Rowan plunged two fingers in her warmth, hitting that spot inside of her that made her scream every time.

As good as it was, Rowan craved something else, so when he groaned Aelin understood. He pulled out his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste her. No matter how many years had passed since the first time, Rowan kept being surprised at how good she tasted. He moaned around his fingers as Aelin teased her entrance with his erection before sinking down, making both of their heads drop back.

Being inside of her had always felt so good, had always felt so right, as if he had been born just to do this. Her belly prevented their chests from touching but Rowan didn’t mind as he ran his hands on every inch of her skin as she started moving.

Aelin kept bouncing slowly on top of him, taking her time as she chased her pleasure, and once again Rowan realized how much he loved her. His Fireheart, his mate, his wife, and his best friend.

He loved her so damn much and he told her so, repeated it over and over again as they both fell over the edge, gripping the other’s skin as they reached the peak of pleasure.

They were both breathless as he lifted her up, pulling out of her and he used his shirt to clean her up. He didn’t want to get dressed not yet, anyway. He lied on his side, tucking his Fireheart next to him. That way, every inch of his front could touch her back. One of his hands came to rest on her belly as he took her book, opening it to where she had left a bookmark.

“What are you doing?” She asked him, her voice sleepy. He used his magic to extinguish most of the candles in the bookstore, leaving only the ones behind him lit to give him some light. "Shhh." He said softly into her ear, moving slightly to be more comfortable, and pulled her even closer to him. "You don't have to come back to reality now."  He told her then began to read her book aloud.

He couldn’t see her but deep down, he left her smile as she put her hand against his, both of them holding their baby as they hugged each other.

Aelin fell asleep quickly but Rowan didn’t stop reading, even if after many hours his voice became hoarse and his throat hurt. But if his Fireheart heard him maybe she would know he was still here, even in her sleep.

—————

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy

[t-lostinworlds]

Dear Santa (Tom Holland)

a/n: this made me want a baby, preferably with tom but anyway. here’s my gift to you lot for the holidays! i hope you enjoy this one <3

pairing: dad!tom holland x female!reader trope/genre: Dad AU;��slight angst; fluff summary: It’s a yearly thing for Tom and your daughter to write letters to Santa together on what they want for Christmas. Only this time around, it was over video call given that Tom was miles away from his two—three, including Tessa—beautiful girls. Santa did get the letters though... warnings: tom being such a dad (which is a warning in its own right), a dash of ‘missing you’ angst, it’s so fluffy that i died a couple times, bad pun/dad joke & a lil steamy in the end. word count: 7.2k+

masterlist in bio & pinned post

-:-:-:-:-

"Dada!"

"Hello, angel," Tom gushed, heart warming up ten times over as he looked right at his four-year-old daughter's beautiful and chubby face. Her little hand waved enthusiastically while she sat on the tall chair in the dining area, her beam turning brighter at the sight of him. "How was your day?" He slid himself in the little nook he had in his trailer, placing his laptop on the table in front of him and getting himself comfy as he listened to her tiny voice babble. Some of her words were mispronounced, sentences cut short and randomly stringed together but Tom listened to every single one of it with much interest.

"What?! She didn't," he gasped exaggeratedly when she talked about Tessa sitting on her while they played in the living room, the pup barking soon after to make her presence known.

"She did! 'N Tessa so heavy dada."

The young lad heard your sweet giggle next and his whole body softened even more at the sound. He leaned back on the seat with the brightest smile he could ever wear. Although Tom could feel the sting in his chest gradually grow when you came into view.

The curve on your lips was tender and sweet, one that he could never get enough of even after years of seeing it, one that he's so dearly missed seeing in person. Tom felt his heart ache the more he stared at his two precious girls, both looking at him with smiles. But still, he can see it, the tiny specks of sadness in your eyes all because he was thousands of miles away, five days before Christmas.

He would absolutely do anything to be in the same room with you two right now. Hell, even to just be in the same country but alas, work and duties. Tom has been away for roughly five months and the last time he's seen you two in the flesh was two months ago when you came over and visited him on set. Now, it was the holidays and he's still not home. And Tom can attest that it's one of, if not the worst feeling in the world.

It wasn't in his plan to be so far away at this time but his schedule is ever changing which led him to still be at work nearing Christmas. He'd done the best he could to try and make it before or on the 25th but it wasn't set on stone. No real and solid plans until the actual day which was very gut wrenching.

It was the first Christmas he's away, after all.

But at this moment, Tom has been lucky enough to have a few hours off this afternoon given that night shoots were the agenda of the day. And even though he should be using this time to get a few hours of sleep in before a very long night, of course, Tom took this opportunity to video call over instead. He just got done eating lunch but it was already dinnertime back in London, and he so badly needs to see your beautiful faces before you went to bed.

"Thalia, sweetie, go wash your hands for a sec, yeah?" you hummed, running your fingers gently through her curly hair, one she got from him. Although her eyes, her smile and overall beauty? It was all you, Tom thinks so at least. Well, except for that cute nose that she got from him as well. The more she grows, the more it shows how she's the perfect mixture of her parents, and it honestly makes his heart soar. Thalia is the reminder of the love you and Tom have, one that's pure and strong that blossomed into this joyful, precious and beautiful little girl.

She looked up at you with a soft pout, pointing towards the screen as she shook her head. "Bu—"

"I'll be right here pumpkin, don't worry. Listen to mummy," Tom chuckled softly. Upon seeing the apologetic smile you flashed him, he knew that you saw the flicker of sadness that crossed his features. You always do see right through him. He shot you a small reassuring nod, a silent way to tell you it was okay.

"No go anywhere," Thalia warned, narrowing her eyes at him.

Tom felt his heart break even more but he flashed her a wide grin, crossing his finger over his heart and said, "I promise."

Thalia reached a hand out for you to take, a sweet smile on your face as you curled your fingers around her tiny ones. "There you go," you said, helping her off the seat.

"Thank you," she hummed, tugging your hand to urge you to lean down. A lovely giggle vibrated in your chest once Thalia placed a wholesome smack on your lips, the sight making Tom's heart skip a couple beats.

"You're welcome, angel," you said. Thalia disappeared from the screen, Tom assuming she had swiftly made her way over her little stairs that he had built for her a couple months back, just so she could reach the sink. "Careful," you called out, the soft grunts of the little girl echoing in the kitchen along with Tessa pitter-patters on the tiles. Tom knew she was in a rush up the stairs, eager to get her hands clean so she can go back to talking to him. He doesn't know if the thought made his heart soar or break a couple more pieces.

You turned back to look at him through the screen, a shy smile erupting on your features the moment you saw him already gawking at you with the proudest grin on his lips. He just can't help but admire the goddess before him. You just look so stunning and gorgeous in a simple knitted sweater, you, his wife.

That alone was honestly enough to make Tom combust with the love that fills him up ten times over. But then, by the heavens above, you're such an amazing mother. He genuinely doesn't know what to do with himself. You make him feel like he's on top of the world. Both you and Thalia make him feel so, so happy.

"Damn, how did I get so lucky," he gushed, gaze locked with yours with adoration coating his orbs. "I mean, look at you, the fact that I get to call you my wife? Whew." He shook his head in pure disbelief, blowing out his cheeks in the process. You let out a bashful laugh with a roll of your eyes, his smile only growing at your reaction. It makes Tom's heart melt whenever you get all timid when he showers you with compliments and affections, all the more reason for him to keep doing it as often as he can.

"All clean!" Thalia exclaimed as she climbed back onto her seat with your guidance, showing her palms to him with a bright smile.

"That's my girl," Tom said proudly, shooting her a wink with a grin to match.

You moved the laptop farther so Tom could see both of you clearly. Disappearing for a moment, Tom heard you speaking to Tessa, handing the doggo her dinner he presumed. You came back into view soon after with two plates on hand, placing one in front of Thalia—to which she adorably clapped with a soft 'thank you'—and setting yours right beside hers. Tom simply watched with a smug smile as you handed the young girl her utensils before you sat yourself down. Your little girl waited for you to get situated without touching her food. Then you and Thalia locked eyes, lifting your spoons and taking a bite at the same time with giggles coming out of you both.

The amount of times Tom could literally die and resurrect at the adorable scene before him was immeasurable. He was unable to wipe the love-struck grin painted on his lips, cheeks hurting but totally worth it.

"Oh, that was a very big bite," he commented when Thalia took another spoonful. Tom adjusted the sleeves of his flannel shirt, pulling it up his forearms for him to easily prop his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his palm as he admired his two precious girls.

"Hmm, so good!" Thalia nodded enthusiastically, eyes all squinted with her cheeks puffed out as she chewed her food as thoroughly and as carefully as she could. Although a little bit of it still managed to stick to her chin, Thalia quick to clean it up with the napkin you placed right beside her plate.

God she's growing up fast.

Tom felt his eyes sting at the thought of his little girl growing to be not-so-little anymore. Not long ago he was the one who'd wipe the little crumbs and mess off her face, but now she can do it all on her own. He could honestly cry.

"You know what, I'm so jealous of you young lady," he huffed, leaning back with his arms crossed and a deep crease on the middle of his brows. "It's unfair how you get to eat mummy's cooking every day."

"I sent Sam some of my recipes, didn't I?" you asked, amusement laced in your tone as you furrowed your brows at him.

"Yeah, but it still isn't the same when it's you cooking because then I can give you hugs and kisses during the process." Tom pouted. "That's one of my favourite parts aside from eating."

"Ew, dada, cheesy."

Tom's mouth fell agape as his gaze snapped towards Thalia and then at you—to which you only shrugged with a giggle—and back to his daughter. "Okay, who taught you that?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Uncle Haz!" Thalia exclaimed proudly, nodding her head as she continued eating.

Tom shook his head disappointedly as he locked eyes with you. "I've been telling you, love, Harrison is a bad influence on her," he grumbled, jokingly of course.

"Oh hush, it's not like what she said was a lie," you pointed out with a knowing smile.

"Hey!" He pouted.

Thalia giggled at his reaction. "Dada cheesy," she repeated.

Tom sighed, shaking his head but the smile never did leave his lips. It never could whenever his eyes are on you two. He was going to confront Harrison about that though; makes Tom wonder what other things that blonde lad has taught his daughter.

"How was your morning, bub?" you asked with a soft smile.

Tom relaxed in his seat as he proceeded to recount the events that happened earlier all while you both continued to eat your dinner.

"—and then we got to visit the children's hospital and gave out presents, which was nice."

"They met Spider-Man?" Thalia queried.

Tom gave her a nod with a wide smile on his face. "Yes, they did."

It's still surreal to him how he's managed to now have the fifth movie of the franchise. It was the last installment which was somewhat bittersweet on its own right. Nonetheless, Tom was very thankful with the run of his career as the famous web-slinger. Lucky and blessed would be huge understatements to describe his life. Even more so now that he's got a wonderful, beautiful daughter and an amazing, gorgeous wife.

"Dada a real life superhero."

Yup, he definitely couldn't get even luckier than this.

Tom let out a coo, bottom lip jutted out as he looked at you and then at Thalia with a little gloss in his eyes. "I could literally burst into tears right now. You own my heart, darling," he gushed. Eyes glancing back at you, he sighed, "You both do."

The warmth and love you held in your eyes glowed some more, his smile widening at the beautiful sight as he tilted his head at you sweetly. Turning back to his daughter, Thalia flashed him a wide smile, setting her spoon and fork down with a satisfied hum.

"Finish already?" Tom asked.

She nodded enthusiastically. "It's letter time!"

Tom can't help but chuckle. It's been a yearly thing for him and her to write their letters to Santa every 20th, always the same schedule which was after dinner. Thalia has grown accustomed to the tradition real quick despite only doing it for only a few years. Well, she is just four.

"Alright, alright, why don't you help mummy clean up while I'll go get my pen and special paper," he said with a wriggle of his brows. The young girl clapped cheerfully as she grabbed for your hand before hopping off her seat, gently taking her plate from the table and carrying it to the sink.

"She's getting so big, love," Tom breathed out, looking at you with his bottom lip jutted out.

"I know," you sighed, eyes on Thalia before you tilted your head at him with that gorgeous smile of yours, nothing but adoration coating your orbs.

Smile turning into a mischievous smirk, he wriggled his brows at you. "Should we make another one?" he purred, voice low and guttural but quiet.

"Thomas!" you hissed as softly as you could. You looked at your little girl briefly and Tom literally saw the relief that washed over your face before you turned back to him with a death glare. "She hasn't asked about that yet and I swear if you're the reason why she starts now—"

"Tessa, not the spoon!"

Your head whipped towards the direction of that little voice before you turned back to Tom with narrowed eyes. "You behave yourself, Mr. Holland," you warned, raising a brow at him and then walking off screen.

"Love you, Mrs. Holland!" he called out with a chuckle.

***

"Dada don't peek!" Thalia gasped once she saw Tom craning his neck teasingly. She glared at him as she covered her paper with her little hand, which was honestly the cutest thing ever.

"I'm not, I'm not," he chuckled, going back to writing his letter.

He wasn't really asking for presents. Well, realistically, he doesn't need to. Of course he could pretend and not write anything at all but he feels a little bad lying to his daughter. So, he resulted to jotting down the things he already has rather than asking for more. All of his yearly letters had consisted of nothing but gratefulness as he lists down what he's been blessed with and was so thankful for, you and Thalia always at the top of that list.

The party has been moved to Thalia's room now, the little girl fresh out her bath and was wrapped in her PJs. The laptop was right on the little desk she had in the corner where she practices her writing, reading and even drawings.

It was where they always write the letters. The previous years, Tom would sit right beside her in one of the tiny chairs as he helps her write. But now, instead of side by side, they were looking at each other through the screen, which honestly makes Tom's heart ache. To add to that, she was writing on her own too, a bittersweet feeling coursing through his bones. Because as much as how he feels so proud to see his little girl know—slowly but surely—how to write, there's always going to be a part of him that clings to the memory of her little hand encased in his much larger ones as he helps her navigate the pencil around the paper, letter by letter.

God, she needs to slow down on growing up. Tom can't honestly handle it.

"You peeked again!" she squealed when she saw Tom lift his brows with widened eyes as he tried to get a look at her paper. Thalia quickly glanced over her shoulder, pointing at the screen with a pout, so obviously telling on him which made him let out a hearty laugh. You came into view right behind the little girl, toys on hand which Tom knows you got off from the floor. There's always so many of them littered around her room. Well, he admits, he does spoil his little girl, sometimes.

"Dada, no peeking," you scolded playfully, raising a knowing brow at him, Tom's heart melting at the seams at your use of the nickname.

"I didn't see anything, I promise." He threw both his hands up in surrender, scrunching his nose at Thalia who only stuck her tongue out at him in response. You disappeared from shot again, continuing what you were doing, Tom assumed. He turned back to his daughter. "Now, write your name at the bottom so Santa knows who it's from. And then put it in the envelope and give it to mummy," he instructed.

Thalia scribbled a few more lines before taking the paper in hand, folding it up as best as she could—all wonky and uneven which is so darn cute—and then carefully sliding it in the envelope provided for her. She then lifted it up to you once you made your way back over to her desk. "Done!" she exclaimed proudly.

"Great job, angel," Tom commended. "Now, time to brush your teeth."

Thalia nodded before turning behind her to catch your eyes. "Mama, help please." She pointed towards the laptop as a way for her to say that she wants to bring it with her, never wasting any time to talk or just see him. Again, Tom doesn't know if his heart could melt or break at the thought.

You nodded with a hum just as she rushed towards the bathroom across the hall, you right on her tail as you carried the computer in your arms.

"Ugh, my heart literally soars every time I hear her call you mama," Tom groaned as he shook his head. "Never gets old."

"Stop being so adorable when I can't kiss you right now," you muttered.

Tom smirked, shooting you a teasing wink to which you only responded with a playful roll of your eyes before you placed the laptop by the sink. Thalia was back on screen again, already brushing her teeth like a pro. Tom knows he's being a broken record but she genuinely needs to stop growing up too fast.

It's not good for his dad heart.

"Smile, sweetheart," Tom hummed once she saw her finish, the little girl showing her rows of teeth at him proudly. "Very pretty," he cooed.

"Thank you," she said with a cute giggle. The little girl bounded back to her room and climbed on the bed, you following suit with the laptop in hand. You gently placed it at the foot and on an angle so Tom could see you both clearly as you tucked her in. "Tessa!" Thalia squealed, tiny fits of giggles escaping her lips soon after as the pup circled around to find a comfy spot before settling right next to her.

The lovely doggo has become Thalia's best friend, personal cuddle buddy, and bodyguard. Wherever she goes, Tessa is always in tow. They always, always sleep beside each other every night and it's honestly the most wholesome thing in the world.

The room became dim when you turned off the main light, leaving the lamp on as Thalia wiggled a few more times before finally settling down. "Story, dada?" she yawned.

Tom nodded with a smile, leaning over the table as he switched up his voice a little. "In a kingdom far, far away..." he started, Tessa resting her head on the little girl's tummy as if she wants to have a piece of the story as well. His smile widened when you sat beside your daughter, your fingers caressing through her hair lovingly as you listened.

Tom can't help but pout at you, missing the way those same fingers feel against his scalp as you run them through his hair. You shook your head with a soft laugh, raising your brow to urge him to keep going with the story.

Gasps and giggles escaped out of Thalia as she listened to him all throughout his impromptu fantasy world. She made sure to throw in her two cents, turning the story to how whatever way she sees fit.

"...and then the princess climbed on her dragon with her new found freedom as she flew into the sunset. The end," Tom finished, his little girl letting out another yawn with her eyes now barely open. He can't stop his heart from melting at the sight. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you," he cooed.

"G'night dada. Love you too," she hummed, eyes fluttering close as she threw her arm over Tessa.

"I'll see you soon my princesses," Tom whispered, eyes flickering over at his pup and daughter with a bittersweet smile.

Tom caught sight of the stars that circled around the room when you switched off the lamp and turned her night light on. You flashed him a smile as you took the laptop in your hand and ventured out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind you.

***

"How about you, my love, what's in your letter for Santa?" Tom asked as you settled yourself down on your shared bed, back against the headboard with the computer on your lap. The screen really doesn't do you much justice on how gorgeous you look, especially now when you got changed and opted on wearing his hoodie.

"I just want you home," you whispered, hand going over your mouth in realization that you said it out loud. Tom saw the guilt spread across your features once you locked eyes with him.

"I'm trying, darling," Tom sighed, hand running through his hair dejectedly, ache coursing through his chest at the sound of longing in your voice.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you rushed.

"No, nothing to apologise for, love," he said, flashing you a sad yet reassuring smile. "It kills me too, being so far away from you both. But I'll see what I can do okay?"

You shook your head, brows furrowed in worry. "You've already done all that you could, Tom."

"But I feel like I should be doing more," he admitted, frown settling on his lips as he held your gaze. Oh how he wished he could take the sadness away from your orbs, to feel your warmth as he pulls you into his embrace. He wants nothing more than to cover you with kisses, to whisper sweet nothings onto your skin to replace your frown with those giggles he adores. "I miss you so much," Tom sighed.

"I miss you too—"

"Tom—oh, hey, Y/N."

You smiled softly. "Hi, Harry."

"I hate to be the one to say this but they need you on set now," Harry said in dismay, shooting you and Tom a guilty smile.

Tom looked at the clock, shock befalling him on how fast time had passed. It didn't even feel like he's been sat in this little nook for five hours, didn't feel like he's talked to you enough at all. He thought he had a few hours more, not a couple minutes left.

His eyes landed back on you briefly and you only flashed him a small smile. Tom turned to his brother with a nod. "Yeah, okay, I'll be right behind you," he said.

"Tell Thalia her favourite uncle said hi," Harry said to you with a proud smile.

Tom shook his head at his brother's bold claim given that Thalia hasn't said that at all. She hasn't shown to have favourites, nor does she have anyone who she likes to spend time with, more. But being competitive lads, it was natural for his brothers—which includes Harrison, Tuwaine and Jacob—to compete for the title of her favourite uncle. She's just spoiled to bits really.

You let out a laugh, though it was a faint one, smile not as wide as you nodded at the twin. "Will do, Harry."

Harry flashed you one last smile before he turned to give Tom a curt nod, hand coming up to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze. Tom smiled at him gratefully, patting his hand before the younger lad made his way out of the trailer. Turning back to you, Tom felt his heart drop to his stomach.

"Darling, please don't cry," he whispered, hand instinctively reaching for you, a harsh foot stepping on his heart when his fingertips only got as far as touching the screen.

"I'm not," you muttered, blowing out your cheeks as you leaned to the side, so obviously trying to wipe your tears off screen. Tom still saw it though, and even if he didn't, he knows you like that back of his hand. The smallest change in your voice could tell him all.

Tom did his best to keep himself together, flashing you a small, comforting smile once you met his gaze again. "I'll see you soon alright?" he said. "I love you so much, darling."

You nodded, frown settling in your lips as you sighed, "I love you too, Tom, oh so much."

"Goodnight, my love." Tom tilted his head at you with a knowing grin. "Dream of me," he teased, earning a small giggle from you.

"Always."

***

"Is dada not coming home, mama?"

It was the 24th of December and your heart could do nothing but ache at your daughter's question. You tried your best to not let your frown be so prominent while you tucked her to bed.

"We don't know yet, lovie," you sighed, hand caressing her cheek tenderly. "But maybe dada will be here the moment you wake up tomorrow," you added, shooting her a knowing wink despite the sharp stab in your heart given that it was still uncertain.

Tom hasn't called at all the whole day. He only sent you a text earlier this morning explaining that he was going to be busy, hence why he won't be able to call. Strings of apologies buzzed through your phone even despite telling him over and over that it was okay. You know that guilt is eating him up whole right now, know for a fact that he's beating himself up black and blue by still not being home on Christmas Eve.

Thalia flashed you her sweet smile and a nod in response, not pressing anymore about her father's absence.

She's really smart for her age, so you wouldn't doubt it at all that she understands why Tom is away right now. You did tell her that her dad wasn't going to be joining dinner this time and she simply said, ''S okay. Dada is a superhero and superheroes are very busy.' And it honestly took everything in you to not start bawling at the dinner table.

"Story time, mama," Thalia hummed, taking your hand in hers as she tugged you closer.

"Okay, scoot a little you two," you said, both Tessa and Thalia making room for you to sit on the edge of the bed. "Once upon a time..."

***

With Thalia fast asleep, you treaded towards the door, leaving it slightly open—for Tessa in case she has businesses to attend to in the middle of the night—behind you and made your downstairs, turning on the little lights on the steps in the process. You went inside the living room, walking over to the wooden stool by the Christmas tree to take the plate of cookies and the glass of milk. You emptied the glass as you made your way to the kitchen, placing the cookies back in the jar and then putting the dirty dishes in the sink.

Venturing into the guest bedroom, you took out the bag filled with the few gifts you had wrapped up the day before. It wasn't a lot, just a couple of toys for both Tessa and Thalia. The little girl really hasn't asked much this year aside from a few toys she saw on TV or at the mall. And what she had on her letter...it was a bit difficult to get.

You slipped back inside the living room, placing the gifts under the tree along with the few sweets inside the stockings. Once you've turned off the electric fireplace, you went over to the tree lights next. But before you could even get to the plug, you suddenly heard the creaking sound of the front door opening and then closing, making you shoot straight up and freeze in your spot. Your heart pounded against your chest, hands trembling at the thought of a break in. Your mind ran a hundred miles per hour as you thought about what to do, ready to sprint upstairs to get to your daughter. You felt your breath hitch when you saw a figure emerged in the entryway.

But then you saw that it was him.

"Tom?" you gasped, eyes wide and glossed up, mouth opening in closing in pure shock as you stared right at your husband.

His face was now in full view as he pulled the hood of his hoodie down. A loving smile played on his lips, one you missed seeing in person. Your heart stuttered as you held each other's eyes, so many emotions swimming in those brown orbs but the love and satisfaction outshined everything else.

"Hi, darling," he sighed in pure content, that voice you love so dearly clear and real, not muffled by the poor quality of the laptop speakers. "Do I not get a welcome home hug?" he teased when you stayed in your spot, unmoving and simply gawking at him. Tom opened his arms wide for you to easily jump into.

Once you've got a hold of reality, you just ran to him full sprint, a sob escaping your lips as he caught you right in his embrace. Tom wrapped his arms around you with a shaky breath, squeezing you oh so tightly as he rocked you side to side. You breathed him in, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, hands fisting the material of his hoodie from behind as your body raked with soft sobs.

Tom pulled away briefly to cup your face in both hands, thumb wiping away the tears that sat on your skin. He smiled at you all adoringly, eyes turning glossy before he swiftly pressed his lips right on yours. You let out a whine as you melted into the kiss, fingers taking home in the mesh of his curls on the back of his head as you held onto him, to physically feel him, just to make sure that he was actually real.

"I fucking missed you so much," Tom groaned against your lips, arms back around your waist to pull you inhumanely closer. His warmth was quick to coat you both inside and out, the feeling of his lips on yours familiar but never fails makes your head spin. His embrace felt like home and oh how much you've missed it.

You pulled away to give into your lungs' needs, but only just a little, both of you in dire need to keep each other as close as possible. The tips of your noses brushed against each other as your chests heaved, though the smile on your lips never did waver.

You stared into his brown orbs, your brows furrowed lightly in question. "But how—"

"Once they gave me the go I took the first flight home," he said, pressing his forehead against yours as he stared right into your eyes with utmost love and the widest grin on his lips to match. You placed your hand on his cheek, Tom turning his head to press his lips against your palm briefly before he leaned into your touch.

"I can't believe you're actually here," you whispered.

"I couldn't miss spending Christmas with my two—" Tom stopped himself when he heard the pitter-patter of paws down the stairs. You turned to see Tessa bounding towards your direction, jumping right at Tom as he crouched down to greet her with a chuckle, "Right, three favourite girls."

Then a small voice spoke, "Dada?"

Tom's head shot up, his handsome face glowing even more, remaining crouched on the floor as he spread his arms. "There's my sweet pumpkin."

Thalia ran to him as fast as her little legs would let her. Laughs came out of the young girl, the sweet sound echoing around the room as Tom lifted her up and spun her around.

"Yay! Santa got my letter!" she cheered, both hands up in the air.

Tom settled her in his strong arms with a soft furrow of his brows. He looked at you confused.

Later, you mouthed.

Tom nodded as he turned back to his little girl. "I missed you so much, my princess," he said, littering her face with loud kisses to which Thalia squealed and giggled in response.

You wrapped your arms around yourself with a satisfied hum and a wide smile on your face. To see Tom be such an amazing and loving father never fails to make your heart grow twice its size, never fails to make you fall even deeper for your man, your husband.

The lovely sight of him and Thalia made your body tingle in more ways than one, a thought crossing your mind, a feeling in your bones telling you that it was the perfect time. It made you smile wider, heat dusting your cheeks as you tilted your head at your husband and daughter.

Tom caught you staring, a proud smirk erupting on those lips of his as he shot you wink. You can't help but roll your eyes at his smugness.

Of course he knows the effects he has on you, knows how him being such a dad makes your heart flutter. But also, how it makes your body fill up with heat and want that you'd have to resist the urge to pounce on him. It probably was obvious in the way you look at him, easily sees it in your eyes because he knows you, he is your husband after all.

But then again, maybe he knows because he's just the same, if not much more intense. The amount of times he's gushed over and over how he wants to put another baby in you whenever he sees you taking care of Thalia goes to prove that point.

It's an equal reaction really, both of you just as whipped for each other.

"Come here, darling." He beckoned you over with a sweet smile, resting Thalia on his hip as he held a hand out for you to which you gladly took. He pulled you closer, giving you a soft peck on the lips before snaking an arm around your waist. You wrapped your arm around the small of his back, chin on his shoulder as you looked at him with utmost love. He shifted his eyes from you and Thalia as he sighed, "It feels so good to be home."

It was such a picture perfect moment, a pure family in love. There was nothing but wide smiles on all your faces, happy to finally be in each other's embrace after so long. Plus, Tessa sat right in front looking at her humans lovingly with her tail wagging enthusiastically.

Thalia's head fell onto her father's shoulder as she let out a loud yawn, tiny fists rubbing over her eyes before she wrapped her arms around his neck. Your heart melted at the adorably sight, a soft coo escaping your lips as you reached over to brush the stray her that landed on her face.

Tom chuckled, turning slightly to give his daughter a kiss on the forehead. "Let's get you back to bed yeah?"

***

Tom came inside your shared bedroom just as you slipped the envelope inside your drawer. Closing it, you leaned back against the headboard with a smile, eyes landing back on your man who stood still in his place.

Tom had his back pressed against the closed door, staring right at you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"You going to join me in bed or are you just going to ogle?" you teased, raising your brow at him with a tilt of your head.

Tom chuckled, pulling himself off the door and sauntering over to you all while slowly stripping off his clothing, starting with his hoodie to his shirt and leaving them across the floor.

He's lucky you miss him too much to call him out on that, willing to give him a pass since he did just got off from a flight. He'll probably pick them up tomorrow though. If not then, he'll definitely hear from you.

By the time he's reached your side, he was left in nothing but his boxer shorts.

"She asleep?" you asked, looking up at your husband lovingly as he towered over you, standing on your side of the bed.

"Mm-hmm." He bit his lip with a smirk as he leaned down, hands on either side of your thighs that were hidden under the covers. "I've got such a beautiful wife huh," he muttered, brushing the tip of his nose against yours all adoringly before he captured your lips in his with a satisfied hum.

You giggled between the kiss, fingers lost in his hair as you pulled him closer, lips moving in sync like they've never been apart for so long. Tom nibbled at your bottom lip, a low groan erupting in his chest when you let him in, your tongues meeting as his hand landed on your thigh with a hot squeeze. You basked in his taste for a few moments more, letting him explore your mouth just to feel him closer, especially after months of being deprived from each other. Your hands slid down to rest on his broad shoulders, giving them a squeeze before you pulled away.

"Before you get too excited, I suggest you read Thalia's letter first," you said with a soft giggle.

Tom let out a hearty laugh, nodding in agreement and giving you once last peck before he jumped over you as threw himself on his side of the bed. The whole mattress bounced due to his weight, earning a pointed eye roll from you. Always a dork no matter what.

He slipped himself inside the covers, settling back against the headboard just as you rummaged through your drawer. You handed him an already opened envelope before you laid your head on his shoulder, slinging an arm over his naked torso as you snuggled to his side. Tom took out the piece of paper, a smile erupting on his lips once he unfolded it, eyes catching sight of his daughter's messy handwriting.

His strong arm wrapping around your shoulder, Tom pulled you closer, giving you a tender squeeze before he read the letter out loud:

Dear Santa,

Please bring dada home.

Me, mama and Tessa miss him so much and I don't want mama to be sad anymore.

Thank you, Santa.

Thalia

Tom tore his eyes off the paper to look at you with a pout, brown orbs glossing up as he placed the paper back in its envelope and set it aside. Snaking both his arms around your form, he gave you a loving squeeze. "Such a sweetheart with a big heart, just like her mother," he hummed, leaning down to give your forehead a sweet kiss.

"I read that at the mall when I did last minute shopping. I had to rush to the bathroom to get myself together. I got so stressed because I don't know if you were coming home or not. Which would then go down to explaining to her that Santa didn't get her letter and I really didn't want to break her heart like that," you elaborated, Tom's fingers caressing your arm comfortingly. "And then I was walking past this comic book store and saw this life size cardboard cutout of you as Spider-Man with the mask off. I was really contemplating if I should just get that instead," you laughed.

"You should've," Tom chuckled.

"And creep her out? No." You shook your head with a giggle. You pulled away from him slightly, his hands sliding down to rest on the small of your back once you did so. With your palm flat against his toned chest, you gawked at his handsome face with nothing but love. "Yet here you are, always here to save the day," you hummed.

Tom smiled widely at you, hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek fondly before he pulled you down for a passion-filled kiss.

"Now," he murmured against your lips, hand sneaking down and under the covers, fingers hot against your bare thigh. He gave it a pointed squeeze before he pulled away slightly. "What do you want, my gorgeous wife?" he purred, a certain glow in those brown orbs as his smirk grew.

With a quick peck on his lips, you release yourself from his grasp for a second so you can reach inside your drawer. You gave him another envelope, a sealed one this time, Tom taking it with a confused look on his face. Lying down on your side, you propped your head up with your hand as you waited for him to read it.

Brows furrowed, Tom opened it and pulled out the letter, pupils moving slowly as he scanned the words. You can't help but giggle once you saw the shift of emotions on his face, his eyebrows rising as he stared at your handwriting wide-eyed.

Dear my lovely Tom,

Thalia is due a younger sibling, don't you think?

Love, Y/N ;)

Never have you ever seen Tom move so fast in your life.

Your sweet laugh echoed around the room as he immediately pulled the covers off your body so he could get himself on top of you without any hindrance. He hovered above you with a wide smirk on his lips, strong hands gripping your thighs as he threw them around his waist, body slotted in between your legs with ease.

He didn't waste any more time as he swiftly dipped his head to capture your lips with utmost love but also, need. The kiss was hot, rushed, a little messy and filled with absolute fervour.

Arms taking home around his shoulder, you pulled him closer into you, your heels digging into the small of his back, both of you groaning at the familiar closeness, bodies fitting perfectly together like two puzzle pieces.

Tom slipped his tongue in your mouth with ease when rutted his hip once which earned a gasp from you. He did it again with a low growl, to make you feel just how badly he needs you. And oh you can feel it alright, feel it really hard. There was the obvious desperation coursing in you both; it's been months after all.

Pulling away for a moment, Tom wriggled his brows at you with lust-filled eyes and a love-struck smirk. Your chest was heaving as you stared right into those brown orbs, ones that turned even darker as his hands took hold of the hem of your—his—shirt. He was ready to pull it off of you but not before saying,

"I guess Santa isn't the only one emptying his sack this Christmas."

"Thomas!"

-:-:-:-:-

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[astaroth1357]

Long Distance Longing with the Brothers

Want a little angst and sweetness? I love how this turned out and I think it’s a new favorite for me. I honestly should wait to post it... But I have no patience, I love it too much. Weirdly enough, thank Taylor Swift’s new album for giving me this idea. Go figure. 🤷‍♀️

Warnings: Angst, implied starvation

Intro:

The brothers knew it was going to happen eventually. The year can't last forever, and at some point they were going to have to say goodbye to their human for the break… But that didn't make the situation any easier. Nobody likes being so far from the one they love. It was only a matter of time before our boys are reaching a breaking point...

Lucifer

Lucifer has never really had a reason to not to work before… Like, yeah there are those days where things get stressful and he takes a step back, but actually taking an extended period of time to just... not work? A "vacation" if you will? He’s never had the desire. What would he even do with himself?

Well, for the first time in literal God knows how many centuries, he had an answer for that question. He was going to be with MC.

And that's exactly what he told Diavolo when he finally accepted that missing the MC was negatively affecting his work. 

He wanted a… "vacation."

Diavolo had never once thought Lucifer would ever ask, and to be fair the man never thought he would either, but he's more than happy to give his friend a few days off to visit his dear human.

Whatever brief hit that his pride took by having to admit that he needed a break was more than made up for by finally seeing the MC again. He knew he missed them, painfully aware of that fact, but just the sight of them waiting to meet him outside the portal was enough to nearly take his breath away…

His first vacation was sure to be paradise. 

Mammon 

Oh, the distance was killing this poor boy. Any day where he can’t have the MC on his arm feels worse than when he's on a losing streak…

Speaking of a losing streak, he's been stuck in one for a whole month without his beloved partner in crime with him. Did he lose his lucky charm or was he just too down in the dumps to gamble well? Anyone's guess.

Well he got fucking sick of it. He wanted to see the MC, ASAP. But how would he get to the human world…?

It takes a week but he gets an idea. It took another for it to actually trigger.

Like clockwork one of the witches he's regularly in debt to, one that just happens to be a bad gambler herself, summoned him out to give her a little extra luck. Usually, he'd just kick whatever slot machine she’s parked herself at and be done with it but this time he's got to ask… How long does that summon spell last, eh?

He made a new sort of bargain. She gets to take Goldie out for a spin if she gave him some time in exchange… 24 hours to be exact.

He didn't waste a second after striking the deal because he had a lot of flying to do.

The MC probably didn't expect to hear frantic knocking on their door at the break of dawn, nor to find a beat tired and disheveled Mammon leaning outside it….

But he embraced them for all it's worth anyway. If it meant feeling them in his arms again, he'd trade away the whole world if he had to...

Leviathan 

He… didn’t do so well with the distance. Like at all. He'd mope around the house, constantly bemoaning how unfair things were. Not even his favorite games can give him any joy because those were the games he used to play with MC…

Sneaking in the occasional video call was pretty much the only thing that could make him smile anymore. Just seeing their face felt like getting a cold drink in the middle of a scorching desert… But he wanted more.

Thankfully, the MC themselves gave him a really, really good idea…

For two weeks straight, Levi seemed to get out of whatever funk he was in to help out around the House… Like, really help out. Suck-up levels of help out. It creeped everybody out...

After a time he finally approached Lucifer and made a simple request. There was an anime convention going on in the human world soon and he'd like to attend…

The ulterior motive for this little visit is practically written on the wall, but he'd been acting so damn unnerving for the past two weeks Lucifer just gave him permission to make him stop.

When the MC agreed to meet him on the opening day, they said they'd be dressed up as someone he'd recognize. Frankly, he was expecting Henry or maybe Ruri-chan but he was completely floored to see them waiting for him dressed in a familiar black hoodie with coral-like horns on their head and a carefully crafted serpent's tail behind them.

To this day he still can't decide what made him happier: seeing the love of his life so adoringly dressed as him or finally feeling their body collide with his after they came running to each other outside the convention hall...

In the end it probably doesn't matter because for that whole day alone, he finally felt like he had everything he could of ever wanted right there with him.

Satan 

Satan's not one for idle moping so when he felt that yearning in his chest finally hit a tipping point, he didn't whine. He didn't complain. He got up and did something about it.

Teleportation magic is tricky to master and dangerous to perform even with sufficient skill. One wrong move and you could end up smearing yourself across three different continents…

But like that would stop him.

He pulled out every book he could find on the subject, researched for days, then practiced for weeks. First on books and apples, then on some of Lucifer’s belongings.

He had to keep making new excuses to throw Lucifer off the scent (especially after he started sending some of his shirts away to different parts of the house) but after some time, it finally paid off.

Satan was probably the last person the MC would have expected to see show up in their room randomly one night, sitting casually by a lamp and reading a book like he didn't just master time and space just to come say hi.

But who was going to be all that picky when they could finally shower their nerdy cat-lover in all the love and kisses they've both been missing for months now?

Asmodeus 

If you took Asmo at his word, then the sheer depths of longing and despair he was experiencing while the MC was away could far outweigh that of anyone else to ever have existed in the history of all time.

He was the Avatar of Lust, desire was in his nature. Couple that with a burning need to have his lover as close to him as he possibly could and it was safe to say he was losing his mind!

This might have been the reason Solomon finally gave in after his 16th-ish time trying to beg the sorcerer to help him. He really was quite pitiful in this state...

When Solomon told Asmo that he could smuggle him out of the teleportation gate between the Devildom and human world ONLY if he could magically disguised his appearance, he was kind of expecting Asmo to refuse. This was Asmo he was talking about. He honestly thought that he'd rather die than deprive the world of his beauty so selfishly…

The world is full of surprises, ain't it?

No matter where they were, no matter what they were doing, the MC was suddenly mowed over by a "stranger" running at them at top speed like an Olympic sprinter. It’d probably have been pretty scary before Solomon lifted the enchantment shortly after to reveal their demon’s gorgeously familiar face.

Solomon wasn't going to let him stay too long, lest he incur the wrath of Lucifer, but Asmo couldn't care less. Be it a thousand hours or a few short seconds, he could always find a way to make his time with the MC last a lifetime...

Beelzebub

Fun fact, Hell freezes over a little every time Beel says "I'm not hungry…" No. Seriously. A freezing wind blasts across the entire Devildom like the realm itself gets a sudden chill...

So imagine the levels of panic that went through pretty much everyone there when his appetite started to fail him.

It's not like the poor baby could help it, food just tasted so much better when the MC was there that eating without them was like trying to digest actual disappointment… He got tired of trying after a while.

A few days of this behavior were worrying, but when he started to get a little thinner the family went into an uproar, starting with Belphie but soon spreading to the rest of the House as well.

Lucifer's soft spot for the twins may have influenced his decision. I mean, it was awfully generous of him to get Diavolo to approve of an fully sanctioned, planned meeting between Beel and the MC. He probably wouldn’t have offered that to anyone else...

Not that Beel cared about all that background favoritism anyway. Hell, on the day that he was finally allowed to see them, he couldn't be bothered by anything other than holding the MC close and hoping they'd never let him go again.

His appetite did return to him eventually, of course, but as long as he had his human with him even the cheapest street taco tasted like a fine five star-meal.

Belphegor 

Frankly, Belphegor was sick and tired of missing people.

Ever since the Celestial War he missed Lilith. When he was stuck in the attic, he missed Beel. And now that the MC was away he was supposed to just sit patiently and miss them too? No way. Not happening. Something about that had to change.

It wasn’t the first time he'd gone to Lucifer in an angry huff, but admittedly he had more ammo than usual...

There was a… discussion between the two. It went on for a couple hours… There may have been some words to the effect of, "Don't you think you owe me?" exchanged… 

Honestly, it was kind of amazing Belphie didn't end up in another attic "timeout" by the end of it. But he got what he wanted, so what's to complain about?

With a little persuasion on his part, Lucifer managed to get Diavolo to approve of a weekly visit for the two, SO LONG as Belphie stayed on his best behavior in the human world.

There wasn’t really much worry about him acting up, though, since he'd have his nap buddy back. It would be pretty hard to be a threat to humanity when he was too busy staying snuggled up to his favorite person until well past noon...

[sunny-sings-sooth]

Daphne

Words: 4.5k

TW: Sexual assault, abuse

Here's my retelling of the myth of Apollo and Daphne! Highly experimental, as I usually write in first person and not so poetically. Hope you enjoy, and if anything doesn't make sense lemme know and I will add some context here. (Also FYI some of the dialogues are pulled directly from Homer's narration)

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Phoebus Apollonas had been alive too long.

He was young by god standards, barely over a millenia old, and still one of the youngest Olympians. And yet he had grown exhausted. He’d been suffering the curse of life long enough to see the boy he used to be -- Phoebus -- die. The demise of the boy began when, in attempt to protect his sister Artemis, he had committed his first murder and thereby lost her forever. The boy decayed further when he’d held the corpses of his sons in his arms. And he’d finally killed the boy with his own hands when he turned his grief-fueled wrath on mortals. Phoebus, the bright, the innocent, the golden prince of Olympus, was dead. All that remained was Apollonas, the destroyer, the terror, the monstrous god of plague.

Except he no longer wished to be Apollonas. Apollonas was addicted to alcohol, drowning himself in it so that he wouldn’t have to face the memories that had murdered Phoebus. Apollonas had struck his younger brother Hermes, the only friend he had left, in drunken rage. Apollonas was despicable and deserved death. He could never be Phoebus again; that he knew and had accepted. But perhaps he could rid himself of Apollonas and become just Apollo. That did not mean erasing Apollonas; he had too many crimes to pay for, and running away would be a dishonor to all those who had suffered at his hands. He would repent for everything he had done as Apollonas, and thereby recreate himself as Apollo.

The first thing he needed to do was to break alcohol’s hold on him, which meant distancing himself from Dionysus. He didn’t want to abandon his youngest brother, but the temptation to drink was too strong in his presence. He hoped Dionysus would understand, and that he would one day be strong enough to bridge the gap of his creation.

He had been clean for three whole days. It didn’t seem like much -- blink of an eye in the lengthy lives of gods -- but that alone had taken him all his willpower. In the absence of the gallons of drink he had been consuming daily, not only was he plagued by memories and sheer self-hatred, he suddenly became highly attuned to the gossip that trailed him. Every moment on Olympus, hundreds of eyes were trained on him, and the whispers never escaped his sharp ears. It wasn’t that he was not used to being the center of attention, but rather the harsh truth of their statements. Phoebus Apollonas is a murderer. He flayed Marsyas alive for daring to challenge him. He curses anyone who questions his authority. He has killed thousands with his plague arrows. He is a monster. He knew these were all true and that he deserved to be pierced by such words, but the anxiousness caused by his withdrawal made them unbearable, and he had to escape to the woods. Here he found solace. Here he could work to slowly put himself together again until he was strong enough to face those who he wronged.

If he hadn’t been so lost in thought, then perhaps he would’ve heard the flap of wings before Eros was standing before him. He nearly dropped the silver bow that he’d been restringing and looked up to meet the other god’s gaze. Eros was the only man Apollonas considered a possible competitor in terms of beauty; his fair skin was smooth as a pearl, his wings the color of one, his features the aspiration of every artist’s portrait. And yet there was something unnerving about the other god. Perhaps it was his hair that, while comparable to a young maiden’s blush, was also the same shade as blood. Perhaps it was the deep red hue of his eyes, made of crushed hearts and rubies. And perhaps it wasn’t his appearance at all, but the mystique that surrounded him; he was the fourth being to come into existence and was old as time itself, and that was one of the only two things Apollonas knew about him.

“Phoebus Apollona,” Eros stated in greeting, and Apollonas hated how wrong it sounded, though he couldn’t tell if it was the names themselves or simply the one who spoke them.

“What do you want?” He couldn’t hide his irritation. The other thing he knew about Eros was that he was the god of love, and love had only ever caused Apollonas pain. He had no reason to like the god nor felt the need to veil his displeasure. All he wanted was the solitude necessary to rework himself.

“I was simply admiring your bow, oh He Who Shoots From Afar.” There was no missing the mockery in Eros’s voice, and his eyes gleamed as he gazed at the weapon. “Why, your skill is almost comparable to my own! Perhaps with some effort, you can become the greatest archer in the land.”

“Are you implying that you are the greatest archer?” Eros nodded, and one glance at the winged god’s slim arms and the modest bow slung across his back sent Apollonas into a fit of laughter. It was many moments before he could calm himself enough to speak. “What have you to do with the arms of men, you feeble thing?”

“I am merely suggesting I may be god of archery as you are god of plague.” Apollonas’s head snapped up at the idea, and his hands curled into fists as he stood, towering over the shorter god. If Eros was a painter’s fantasy, then Apollonas was a sculptor’s. His toned body was the epitome of perfection, the ideal balance between strength and beauty. He was well aware of this fact, and though he rarely preferred to use his appearance for intimidation purposes, Eros’s insult necessitated such action.

“Do not lay claim to my honors,” he hissed, his sky blue eyes glinting with divine power. Archery was the one constant he could always rely on. With his bow and arrows, he could protect and punish, wound and save. It was the one part of him that stayed no matter if he was Phoebus or Apollonas or whoever, and he’d be damned if he allowed this worthless winged wretch to even suggest taking that from him.

“Let us put it to test, then,” Eros declared, unfazed by the archer’s anger. What would the ancient deity have to fear from the youth? He was well aware of his capability, and little did Apollonas know he was falling into another trap, his emotions and naivety deceiving him once more. He was but a pawn in Eros’s game. “What say you to a battle of skill?”

Apollonas did not grace the other with an answer, lifting his weapon and drawing an arrow from his golden quiver in response. The toned muscles of his back flexed as he pulled back the string and released, and the arrow had barely gone forth an inch before he sent forward another, and then yet another. His arms were but a blur as arrow after arrow went flying, striking the most minuscule of targets: the pupil of a fly’s eye, the thread of a spider’s web, the stem of a single olive. Apollonas did not stop until his quiver lay empty, and he took in the perfect shots before him that seemed almost artistic by his hand. No matter how low he may have descended in these past years, there was no denying the masterpiece he created from the most basic of weapons. This was his domain. He couldn’t keep his lips from curling in conceit as he turned to Eros.

“That gear becomes my shoulders best,” he declared, setting his bow back beside his quiver to draw emphasis to the weapons that had adorned him for centuries. “I wound my enemies; I wound wild beasts. My countless arrows slew the bloated Python, whose vast coils across so many acres spread their blight. You and your loves!” Apollonas couldn’t hold back his scoff at the mention of Eros’s inferior work. “You have your torch to light them. Let that content you. Never claim my fame!”

“Your bow, Phoebus Apollona, may vanquish all, but mine shall vanquish you. As every creature yields to power divine, shall your glory yield to mine.” At Eros’s threat, an enraged response was making its way up Apollonas’s throat, but before it could spill off his tongue, the love god drew his own golden-tipped arrow. In the blink of an eye, he shot it forth right into the other god’s heart before taking flight.

Apollonas stumbled back, a gasp more of shock than pain escaping him as he clasped his hands over his chest, fingers fumbling for the arrow. However, it had already dissolved into him, its magic making its home in his body. He felt something ooze into his heart and bloodstream, shoot up his spine, ensnare his mind. He turned his attention inward, trying to identify the invader, but he could not locate it, nor could he compare it to anything he had ever felt before. What had Eros done? He lifted his head, searching for the god, but instead his gaze fell upon another figure altogether.

There, a few feet away, stood the sweet river nymph Daphne. He knew her -- he knew the names of many of the nymphs that resided in these woods -- but beyond a passing glance and a murmured greeting, she had never caught his attention. But now… he couldn’t seem to look away, his lips parting in awe as he stared at her, dumbfounded. Had she always been so breathtaking? How could he have missed such a beauty? Her dark locks flowed down like a waterfall of ink. What it would be to hold that silky hair between his fingers, to braid it and adorn it with flowers and beads! Her eyes were a startling shade of not blue, not green, but something between the two, and he could spend hours drowning in their depths. Her figure had the slightest curve to it, the outline of a river, and he imagined that her body had been crafted to fit against his perfectly. He saw her, loved her, wanted her.

“Daphne.” Apollonas whispered her name, marvelling at the nectar-like flavor that coated his tongue. If just her name was so sweet, then how must her lips taste? Looking was not enough. The urge to find out was unbearable, the earlier argument stolen from his mind entirely as he found himself tossing aside his bow and quiver. What did archery matter when he could master the bow of her lips instead? He would claim it, make it and the rest of her his and his alone. He took a step forth, a giddy smile alighting his features.

“St-stay back,” the nymph stammered, icy fear coiling in the depths of her stomach. She could read his intentions clearly on his face, from the crazed look in his eyes to the wolfish grin he wore to the way his hands reached towards her. Daphne knew all too well what this man planned to do with her, and that should she fall into his grasp, she would not be able to stop him from having his way. So when he took another step forward, she turned and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Apollonas gaped only a moment before rushing after her, an arrow released from its bow.

“Daphne, please wait! I am no foe! You don’t need to fear me!” he cried out after her. Daphne did not answer him, her thoughts only on escaping. Thorns and brambles tore at the bare skin of her calves, yet she refused to slow down. “You run as if I am a wolf and you a lamb, but that is not so! It is love that spurs me! Don’t fly so fast, lest you fall and wound yourself!”

“Leave me be, you horrid man!” she shrieked, not stopping even as her dress got caught on the surrounding plants and began to tear, revealing her to him little by little. Apollonas’s brows furrowed in worry at the sight of bloodied cuts on her legs. From within him a voice called out: What are you doing, Apollona? Why are you tormenting this poor girl? Leave her be! You will not have your way with her! But before the voice could say more, he caught a glimpse of the bare skin of her thigh, and everything left his mind. His conscience was once more bound and gagged by Eros’s power, forced to watch it all in horror. Speaking of the god of love, he also watched, flying unnoticed above them, yet he felt only amusement from the sight. The sheer terror that had contorted Daphne’s face and drawn panicked tears from her eyes made him smirk, and Apollonas’s frantic yelling drew out peals of laughter. They had both bent to his will so easily, and he was eager to see how this played out.

“You run because you do not know. I am no peasant, no shepherd!” Apollonas called out to her again. She was only afraid because he didn’t know who he was. He knew the moment she realized his true identity, she would stop and turn to him with a blessed smile. “I am the son of Zeus, prince of Olympus, lord of Delphi. By me things future, past and present are revealed. I shape the harmony of songs and strings. You will be happy as my bride, dear Daphne! I will see that your every wish is granted and that no desire goes unfulfilled. Please stay!”

“No! My only desire is to escape you!” Yet this would not be granted, as her body was beginning to fail her. Try as she might, she could not outrun Apollonas; he was strong from years of training and battle, and though she was swift and sure-footed, she had used up all her limited mortal strength. Her legs trembled with every step, her lungs two pits of fire in her chest. And so her traitorous body came to a stop as she gasped for breath, and Apollonas finally had her. He held her hip tightly, freezing her in place. Had he been in his senses and had control over his own body, he’d never have done this, and his conscience screamed within him. But he was deaf to it, the lust coursing through him silencing all else. His eyes soaked in her bare skin when he would’ve shielded them, his hands pulled her closer when he would’ve let her go, and he was ready to claim her when he would’ve done anything but this crime.

“My love.” His warm breath brushed against her ear as he leaned down, pressing his lips against the pale column of her neck. Daphne gasped and tried to pull herself away, but his grip was too strong, utterly unbreakable. How could she escape a god? She was helpless and frail, trapped and alone. There was no one to aid her, no one to stop Apollonas from running his hands down her body and forcing himself against her. And then he was turning her around, wishing to taste her lips, and a final plea escaped her.

“Help me, Peneus!” she screamed for her father. She knew her father could do nothing against an Olympian, but perhaps he could do something to her, and she would accept any escape from this fate. “Open the earth to enclose me, or change my form, which has brought me into this danger! Let me be free of this man from this moment forward!”

Daphne’s prayer was answered, and she was changing.

A stiffness had taken over her body, the swiftness that had protected her for so long sacrificed to escape Apollonas. Her arms lifted of their own accord, her fingers elongating up and her feet rooting into the ground. The dark waterfall split into a hundred streams that lightened to a soft green. Her curved figure fell away as her body thinned into a single arc, her legs fusing and her hands reaching higher and higher. Bark was creeping up from her extremities, down what were now branches and up what had transformed into a trunk. It conquered her shoulders, her chest, her neck. A soft sigh, her last breath, escaped her just as her lips were encased.

Apollonas’s lips met rough bark that cut at his soft skin. With a small gasp, his eyes flew open and he looked straight into Daphne’s piercing eyes. The waves in them had finally calmed, as the storm that had tormented them could no longer ripple its waters. He stared into those beautiful orbs, breathing her name, and watched as they shut forever.

Apollonas couldn’t tear his gaze away, his mind still unable to process the transformation that had unfolded before him. His hand trembled as he raised it, placing flat against the trunk of the tree. A steady pulse graced his fingertips -- a heartbeat. Daphne’s heartbeat. She was this tree, this sorrowful laurel tree, lost from him forever. His legs gave out beneath him as he wept, wrapping his arms around her and leaning his head against her bark. And yet the lust hadn’t left him, and he was kissing the wood over and over, whispering her name and an endless string of apologies as the skin of his lips tore and blood dripped down his chin.

“Oh, Daphne. My Daphne,” he cried, yearning what could’ve been. He thought the image of her smiling sweetly at him, kissing his cheek and calling him ‘husband’, was a vision, a prophecy promising that he could be the source of her happiness until the end of time. But he was wrong. It had been a fantasy, a dream that had slipped out of his grasp. And now she was gone. His sobs doubled in intensity as grief wracked him, and he didn’t notice Eros approaching until he spoke.

“Isn’t this a beautiful sight?” the god of love asked, his lips twisting into a smirk. “Phoebus Apollonas, broken and filthy inside and out. A slave to his desires. Do you accept defeat, oh lustful one?”

Apollonas turned to the other god, and the grief in him sharpened to rage. His beautiful Daphne, the love of his life, had been stolen from him, snatched right out of his hands, and the cause of it all was simply standing there, taking amusement in his loss. He reached for his bow only to find it missing, and so he lunged forth and tackled Eros to the ground, wrapping his hands around the smaller man’s thin neck.

“You monster,” Apollonas growled, his sky blue eyes glowing with divine power. This horrid creature had taken his Daphne from him and deserved nothing less than death. Apollonas would deliver him to the gates of Tartarus himself if necessary. The man must pay for his crimes. He increased the pressure, causing the other god to choke under his iron grip. “You did this!”

“Oh no, Apollona. I merely gave you a nudge. The rest was all you,” Eros gasped out, managing to laugh even as his windpipe threatened to collapse altogether. The sun god’s brows furrowed at the statement, and Eros subtly waved his hand, calming the effects of his magic. “And who knows what you’ll do next if I keep nudging you forth? You’ll be giving your father quite the competition, won’t you?”

The spell finally broke, and Apollonas’s grip slackened as the lust drained out of him and the truth became clear. He had chased Daphne. He had chased Daphne with the intention to force himself on her. He had tried to kiss her and claim her as his own with no care for her terror. He pushed her so far that she thought it better to lose her humanity than to be his. Oh Fates, what had he done? You are the most wicked person to live, Phoebus Apollona. You are no better than your father. You did this to that poor girl. You ruined her.

“N-no,” he whispered, backing away from Eros and clamping his hands over his ears, but it was in vain. The voice came not from outside but from within, where his conscience was finally free to reclaim its owner. And so Apollonas relived the incident that had just taken place. He saw himself chase after her just as Python had chased him and his family, heard his plans to ruin her just as he believed Orion had intended with Artemis, felt himself force himself upon her just as Zeus did to his mother Leto. Never in his life had something been so achingly clear to him as this truth: while he had spent his whole life painting others as wicked, he had been the most terrible monster all along. Apollonas doubled over, spilling his insides onto the earth as though he could purge the maliciousness from his body. But alas, he could not; he was born the destroyer, and he had truly lived up to his name. He could not tell if his scream remained in his soul or ripped out of him. He didn’t know if it was tears or fire spilling from his eyes. All he knew was the terrible truth that he has been blind to all his life.

“You are weak, boy. But I can make you strong,” Eros declared, towering over the hysterical god. He wondered how Olympus would react to seeing their golden heir broken on the ground, sobbing like a spoiled child. He could only imagine they’d be just as entertained as he. Still, the time for games was over. Making sure to avoid the pool of vomit, he crouched down and placed a thin finger under Apollonas’s chin, forcing the young god to meet his gaze. “Here is my offer to you: vow to me on the river Styx that you will follow my every command, and I will save you from further humiliation and heartbreak.”

“What, so I can spend my life blind and deaf, a mindless slave to a heartless man?” A dry, humorless laugh slipped out of Apollonas’s lips. He had seen and tasted truth, and he would not give that up to become Eros’s puppet. He scowled and spat at the love god’s feet, glaring into those blood-red eyes. “That is what I think of your offer.”

“I expected the god of intellect to be wiser than this, but I now see the difference between you and Athena.” Eros sneered, wrinkling his nose at the sorry display. “Do not be hasty, godling, and ponder my words carefully. I am offering you invulnerability. I will harden your heart to stone so that none may hurt you. Without your greatest weakness, you will be unstoppable. You will never have to feel such pain again.”

Apollonas paused for a moment, considering Eros’s claim. To never feel this soul-tearing agony again? To be free of the organ that rebelled against his mind at every moment? Now that he contemplated it, the offer was quite tempting. Without his heart, he would only have to rely on his body and mind, both of which were immaculate. He would indeed be unstoppable, finally the golden heir of Olympus he was expected to be. And yet… his gaze moved to the laurel tree, and a single leaf drifted down before him. Apollonas caught it in the palm of his hand, carefully tracing its pale green veins. If he were to remove his heart, to lose his ability to feel, would that not be a dishonor to Daphne? After all he had put her through, did she not deserve to be mourned and remembered? And what about all the others, every mortal that had suffered at his hand? He would be spitting on their graves by choosing to run away from the pain that, in the face of what torment they had lived through, was nothing. And so Apollonas rose to his feet, stretching to full height and then kneeling down so that his face was merely inches from the love god’s. “Rot. In. Tartarus.”

“You really should have chosen the easy path,” Eros muttered, the smirk sliding off his face as he grit his teeth. Apollonas wanted to regret? Then he’d give him reason to regret. His hands flew to Apollonas’s temples, freezing the younger god in place. Eros’s eyes glowed, twin pits of lava, and his voice boomed as he invoked his ancient power. “I curse you, Phoebus Apollona. May love be your enemy and your heart a traitor. May you be powerless to control the whims of your desire, and may you be the cause of pain to those you love, over and over until the end of time itself.”

Apollonas fell to the ground once more, struggling as the curse rooted itself deep in his soul, at the very essence of his being. By the time his throat had grown too raw for him to continue screaming, Eros had already flown away, leaving behind nothing but punishment. He found himself crawling back to the laurel tree, to Daphne, leaning his forehead against her trunk as he wept. He wept for her, for those before her, and for those after her.

“I’m sorry, Daphne,” he whispered, holding on so tightly the bark dug into his skin and realizing how powerless he really was. “I’d change you back if I could, sweet nymph, but I cannot. Instead, I swear by the river Styx, I won’t let you be forgotten. I bless you so that your leaves are never shed and instead will be woven in wreaths that will become a symbol of honor, the very thing I tried to steal from you. Let mankind see me to be the monster I am if that means your memory will live on. And even if your name no longer forms on the lips of men, they will live on eternally upon my own. This I vow to you.”

With this, he lay one last touch upon the tree before turning away, trudging his leaden feet back to Olympus. He heard the whispers as he arrived in the city, but he paid them no mind and made way to his house. Barely moments after he entered, his fingers scurried over the wall until they found the loose brick that he yanked out and tossed aside. His hands trembled in a moment of hesitation before reaching in. He grasped the bottle of his poison, his secret, his solace. Apollonas lifted it to his lips, tears running down his face, and drank his worries away.

[minmindreaming]

Dad Mode | Chapter 1

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: Fluff (with the smallest sprinkle of angst)

Pairings: Dad!Namjoon x Teacher!Reader (feat Kid!Jungkook)

Summary: It’s been three years since the first time he walked into your classroom, small, shy son in his arms, already whining about the first day of class. Yet even as Jungkook now turns 6 you still feel yourself blushing around his cute dad, Namjoon. What happens when you find yourself alone with him? And the two of you struggle to keep your crushes at bay

A.N: 2 years later and I come back with a freaking Dad!Namjoon fic, of course...

A soft giggle made the man turn around, his eyes wide as he looked around frantically. To the casual listener the sound wouldn’t have sounded any different than any of the other kids running around the playground, but Namjoon could pick that one out in any crowd. He stood up, looking over the large seesaw for his little trickster, but alas, once again he couldn’t find him. “Jungkook I swear to god… I lost okay? I lost, just come out” But the small boy was nowhere to be seen. Namjoon sighed heavily, not even being able to mask his worry as other parents played with their kids happily. “Jungkook… please I-” “Need some help?” The sun shone from behind your frame, blinding Namjoon for a second before he was able to focus his sight. Your smile was the first thing he noticed, as soft as he remembered, always shining with a sense of calmness that even his own nerves couldn’t beat. “I can’t find him…” he admitted without fear, he knew that after all this time there was no way you’d judge him You laughed softly, nodding as you crotched down to his level, looking around the area as you focused your hearing to find the same soft giggle Namjoon had been listening for, “he’s always been the best at hide and seek” you admitted, laughing a tad harder as Namjoon sighed in exasperation. Your eyes trailed towards the large plastic castle left of the seesaw, a few brown strands peaking up from the top floor of the tower, a small smile covering your lips as you spoke, “Kookie… I was about to go start with the class games… But I guess since you’re not here I’m gonna have to ask Taehyung to help m-” and like clockwork, those tiny brown eyes were staring right at you “No!” Namjoon’s mouth fell agape as he saw his son sliding down the castle’s yellow slide and running straight at you, as if he hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes making a fool out of his dad. You opened your arms and instantly the 6 year old ran into them, clinging to you with all the confidence in the world, knowing damn well that he was gonna be the one helping with the class games. “You promised I could help!” he exclaimed, pouting as you stood up with him in your arms “Well, you’re the one who was slacking in your duties to go play hide and seek” you answered, trying hard not to laugh at his shocked face. “It’s not my fault!! Daddy took too long to find me…” And now it was Namjoon’s turn to pout. You turned to the man, giggling softly as he stuttered, trying to think about something to say, something to protect his integrity as a dad… But Jungkook was right, Namjoon had absolutely no idea where he was. You shook your head softly at Namjoon, making sure he knew it was okay before you put Jungkook down on his feet, ignoring the small pout the boy gave you before he ran straight towards his dad’s side. “Why don’t you go get the rest of the boys into our room Kookie? I’m just gonna clean up here and i’ll be right there okay?” you asked as you smiled at him softly The boy nodded excitedly, always happy to help, and not a second later he was running towards the small kindergarten you had started a few years ago. You watched the boy with a small smile, even the sight of him bringing you a sense of joy you knew was special.  

“I swear, he makes me look so bad…” Namjoon groaned, patting down his olive chino pants as he stepped towards you “He’s one of the happiest little boys I know Mr. Kim,” you started, giving him a genuine smile, “he makes you look great” Joon’s eyebrows rose at your words, staring back at you for a second before his eyes softened, whole body relaxing just as his dimples appeared on his face, a small, shy smile on his lips. “He really loves it when you’re able to join for break time, it’s easy to tell, that cheeky smile of his doesn’t leave his face for the rest of the day” you commented, trying not to sound too excited yourself. After all, you were only talking about Jungkook Namjoon looked back at the building Kook had run into, a small smile on his lips as he nods, “yeah… I wish I was able to come more often I just-” “It’s okay,” you said, a hand on his shoulder as you started walking towards the building, “that’s why I’m here Mr. Kim” Namjoon watched as you passed him, his eyes mindlessly trailing down your frame, taking in the way your strands of hair peaked out out your messy bun.. How your cream coloured blouse tucked into the back of your light jeans. The way you always looked entirely too perfect for someone who spent the day looking after children. He caught himself staring, shaking his head lightly before he followed you into the small building and towards the main classroom where he could hear the children welcoming you excitedly. He waved goodbye to a few familiar parents as they started heading home or towards work, the large red clock on the wall signalling to him that class was about to start and he himself should be making his way to work. But he couldn’t help but head in for another peek. He leaned against the classroom’s door frame, smiling as he saw Jungkook running up to you the second you reached your desk, the boy clearly enamored with his teacher. Namjoon tried to hide the smile it brought to his lips, knowing that one came from a deeper place, more dangerous… It wasn’t everyday that he was able to see Jungkook this happy with someone else, of course it would make him feel a certain type of way, but he shouldn’t let that interfere with the somewhat professional relationship he had with you. Jungkook’s caught sight of his father, his large front teeth on full display as he ran towards Namjoon, tiny arms trying their damn hardest to circle the tall man’s legs. Namjoon patted his hair down softly, smiling, “hey, I’ll be back later okay?” he tried, but Jungkook put up no fight, “I know” he smiled up at his dad. He knew Namjoon was always there to take him home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You were proud of the fact that you hardly let the kids see you anxious, knowing damn well how easily they can pick up on other people’s anxiety. But right now, listening to your favourite little boy crying his eyes out, it was getting really really hard to stay calm. You stepped closer to Jungkook's desk, the boy with his head shoved up against the wooden table as he tried hiding his tears from you, despite his wails being loud enough to fill the whole room. 

For almost an hour now you had tried calming him down, staying with him as he watched one by one the kids leave at the end of the day, his smile faltering with every single friend that walked out the door. But by the time the last one left, he could barely keep the sobs in. Despite the thousands of apologies Namjoon had already blasted your phone with, the man was still stuck at work. By now, you knew it was inevitable, and you couldn’t fault him from struggling to juggle his work and Jungkook, but the boy did not see it that way. “Kookie… Daddy is just late, you’ll be home soon okay?” you tried, flinching softly as Jungkook wailed louder, “Nooo… He left me here! He left me…” Your heart broke at the hurt you could hear in his voice, and as you looked at the clock once again, your mind was made up. You made your way to the other side of the room, dialling Namjoon’s number as you turned away from Jungkook. It didn’t take him long to pick up, and immediately you could hear the desperation in his voice, the man struggling to stay on the phone as he rushed into his car. “(Y/N) is everything okay?! I’m on my way! I’ll be there soon I-” “Mr.Kim,” you started calmly, not wanting to let him ramble on, “everything is fine, Jungkook is okay… I’m just…” you closed your eyes… trying to stop the blush making its way onto your face, this was what was best for Jungkook, “why don’t I drive him over to your house?” You could hear Namjoon pause, and for a second you regretted your decision, but just as Jungkook sobbed again the man spoke, “really?” “Yeah,” you continued, “I think Jungkook is just uncomfortable not being home, and I know it takes you longer to get here so it might be best for him if I just meet you at your home? It’s no trouble for me to drive hi-” “Yes! Oh my god (Y/N) yes, thank you so much, wow, I-” You cut him off again, the sound of him using your first name finally cracking you and making you blush, “it’s okay! He’ll just be happy to be home… I’ll see you soon then” you finished, perhaps a bit too rushed before you quickly hung up. You stared at the wall for a second, for the first time in years your crush coming back to hit you with full force. But you knew now was not the time to fangirl over the cute single dad at your work. Jungkook needed you, and you weren’t about to let a silly crush get in the way of making your little Kookie feel better. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time you rolled into Namjoon’s driveway Jungkook was all but knocked out in the back seat. His cheeks were still stained with tears, eyes still slightly puffy as the young boy struggled to keep them open. He had panicked so much earlier… No wonder he was tired. You parked the car, looking back at him for a second with a small frown. The way he freaked out, the things he said… You know he was thinking back to his mother. You didn’t know the details, and you know Jungkook was too young to remember. But the boy was too smart for his own good, surely by now he had put two and two together. It wasn’t hard, seeing all his friends always being dropped off by two parents while he always only had Namjoon. You sighed as you opened your door, walking back to grab him from his seat just as Namjoon opened the front door, running down the steps. You pulled Jungkook’s sleeping body into your arms, signalling for Namjoon to be quiet just as the man was about to speak. But he saw you, softening his steps as he got closer, a sad frown on his face as he got a glimpse of Kook’s cheeks. You gave Namjoon an understanding smile, following him towards the house before you passed the sleeping boy to his dad. Namjoon held Jungkook close, his hands gripping the boy a tad too tightly as he whispered towards you, “will you wait here a second? I’m just gonna take him upstairs” You nodded as you stepped inside the house with him, standing by the entrance as you watched Namjoon quickly make his way to the second floor. You took the time to look around, smiling softly as you saw both their personalities plastered around the home. You could see Namjoon’s style within the earthy tones that filled the home, the whole clearly decorated to perfection, before hurricane Jungkook took over with his action figures and games, laying over every furniture piece in the home. Your eyes shifted towards the stairs as you heard Namjoon walking back down, finally noticing his appearance. The usually put-together, care-free man had certainly had a stressful day. His bleached white hair had been pushed back, the sleeves of his brown shirt rolled up to his elbows, collar opened a button-too-low. You blinked a couple times before looking away, acting as if you were still just looking around as he reached you. “Miss. (L/N) I am so so sorry for this. I had absolutely no way of getting out of my meeting earlier and…” he tried, pushing his hair back once more as you raised your hands to calm him, “no no, don’t worry! Really, these things happen” He looked at you as if he wanted to apologise once more, but caught himself. Honestly, at this point even Namjoon couldn’t keep track of how many times he had done so that night, and in his mind no amount of apologies could make up for what had happened. You swayed slightly as you looked around, the awkwardness finally getting to you and flaring up your nerves. “I should go…” you muttered, trying your best to sound casual, but Namjoon was apparently hellbent on making your heart flutter. “Wait! Uhm… Can I make you some dinner?” he started, your eyes widening at the proposal, “Jungkook might be too tired to eat but I’m sure you’re hungry. Please, it’s the least I can do” For what felt like forever you just stood there speechless. You knew that any second now you would become a blushing mess, maybe you could still get out of it somehow? But as Namjoon saw the gears in your head turning he double down, the sweetest puppy eyes looking down at you as he insisted once more. So that’s where Jungkook gets it from… You giggled at your thought, nodding your head slowly and holding back the other giggle that his bright smile enlisted. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Namjoon was Jungkook’s dad, a client, you needed to be able to act normal around him. This little crush had gone on for way too long anyways. Namjoon led you towards the large kitchen, motioning for you to sit behind the large granite island as he made his way towards the fridge. You rested your chin on your hand as you sat down, watching him as he moved around, grabbing glasses and plates, only to stop as he looked for what to make. At this point you had known Namjoon for a while, and you had seen Jungkook play pranks on him enough to know when he got nervous. You leaned right to look around him, giggling softly as you noticed him staring at his weirdly stocked fridge blankly. His body picked up your giggle, and he turned around with a sheepish grin, clearly thinking about how he'd explain to you that he was a terrible cook. But he forgot that you were best friends with his kid. “You know, a little bird told me that you guys’ favourite meals come straight out of there, and not the fridge” you joked as you pointed to Namjoon’s phone sitting on the counter. The man turned to look at it, chuckling lightly as he knew there was no hiding things from you. He didn’t keep secrets from Jungkook and apparently Jungkook didn’t keep secrets from you either.  “Yeah… This household runs a little differently… I’m-” but he stopped himself. He had apologised enough tonight. Honestly, why was he even doing it that much? Namjoon couldn’t remember the last time he had been this nervous around a woman, especially after Jungkook was born. But whenever you were in the room he just couldn’t stop himself. It also didn’t help that you were kind, beautiful, Jungkook absolutely loved you, and you were so, absolutely, incredibly, ho- Breathe Namjoon. Without much thought he grabbed a bottle of white wine from the fridge, not noticing the look you gave him as he grabbed two glasses, chuckling to himself. He placed both glasses on the island across from you, only looking up at you as he was opening the bottle, and immediately realising what he was doing. “Fuck, I didn’t even ask. I’m sorry, I… Would you like some wine? Oh no wait you’re driving, I just, I-” You giggled at his reaction, shaking your head slightly, “it’s okay. It’s been a long day, I could have one glass, just one” He sighed in relief as you agreed, pouring both glasses before putting away the bottle and walking around the island towards your side. He passed it towards you before sitting on the stool beside you, a tad too close perhaps. Maybe this was where him and Jungkook had breakfast? For a second you dared imagine how cute the two would look, Jungkook asking for help to get on the stool, Namjoon feeding him as you grabbed both a glass of orange juice from the fridg- Why were you in that fantasy? You brought the glass to your lips to shut up your thoughts, the tang of the white wine making everything a little better. “Thank you Mr. Kim” “Namjoon” Your eyes widened slightly at his word, watching him as he chuckled, “you can call me Namjoon. I mean, we are having a glass of wine in my kitchen… And how long have we even known each other for, 3 years? I think it’s about time Miss. (L/N)” he grinned casually “(Y/N). You can call me (Y/N) then” you smiled, trying to hide the excitement of hearing it from his lips once again. “It has in fact been a long time though, 3 years this year… God I can’t believe Jungkook is 6” you whined, remembering the cute little boy that waddled into your class that first day. 

“You tell me, sometimes I think time is playing a trick on me…” he agreed. Namjoon took a sip of his wine before he turned his body towards you, his face a little more serious, “how was he?” 

You knew what he was asking about, and from the looks of it, he already knew the

answer. But you still wanted to try, “he was fine! A bit confused but you know he’s young and-” “Y/N…” 

You stopped, sighing before you told him the truth, “he thought you had just left him there… I had never seen Jungkook like that, he was terrified. I tried calming him down, it had only been an hour, but he was…” you trailed off, remembering how absolutely heartbroken the boy was. But as you looked at Namjoon, you could see the same exact feeling in him. “Is it because…?

“His mother… Yes” Namjoon sighed You noticed your own question, groaning at yourself for bringing it up, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry” But Namjoon shook his head, giving you a small smile, “it’s okay”. But why? Why was it okay? Namjoon rarely ever talked about Jungkook’s mother, yet somehow he felt inclined to tell you about it. Without thinking about it further he went on, “I haven’t talked about it much with Jungkook, but he knows. He was too young to remember, but he knows…” he sighed, taking another sip of his wine before he went on, “we were both young when she found out, too young to be having a kid. But I was so sure of it, I just wanted to be a dad. We actually tried, and it worked, for a little while. When Jungkook was just a baby he took up enough of our time that we didn’t really notice how badly things were going… But by the time he was two she just couldn’t take it anymore” For a moment, you found it hard not to feel resentment for a woman that would just leave Jungkook and Namjoon like that, but Joon didn’t seem to hold any grudge in his heart. “I was lucky enough to already have my career by then, but she was only just getting started. The pressure on new mothers is so insane… It wasn’t fair for me to make her give that all up for a life she didn’t want” He looked up at you, eyes widening slightly at the look of sadness you had, before he chuckled, shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down. I don’t blame her, or regret anything, it gave me Jungkook and that’s all I care about.” You wanted to say something, to tell him he was doing great and everything would be fine, that you were there for him. But who even were you? The teacher? Was it really your place to say anything. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself? What made you open up the school?” he asked, clearly wanting to change the subject You thought about it for a second, smiling to yourself as you remembered the journey it took to open your small little school, “I had always dreamed of working for myself,  and after my Masters it just seemed like the right choice. I was definitely ready to take the leap and open my own place but god I was so scared” you chuckled, a small blush on your cheeks, “I’ve always loved kids, I mean, I studied for this you know, but owning your own business is a whole other beast… I just knew that I wanted to be able to help kids on my own terms, without all the bureaucracy that came with my old school. They treated the children like clients there, I would never have been able to stay with a kid like Jungkook if a parent was late, and that’s not right…” You looked up at him, smiling softly as you noticed he was giving you his full attention, “It’s crazy to think that i’ve been doing this for almost 5 years now…” “I mean, given that i’ve trusted you with my son for over half of those, i’d say you’re doing a pretty good job” Namjoon offered, his dimples showing as he smiled at you You giggled, nodding, “thank you for that Mr.K- Namjoon… It’s honestly been such a treat to be able to watch Kookie grow.” 

“It makes me happy too. You’re probably one of the most consistent things in his life… I’m just glad he has some other than screw-up ol’ dad to rely on” 

Honestly, how many times had Namjoon had this conversation with himself? Jungkook was lucky to have you, you were probably the closest thing to a mother he had, and a freaking perfect one at that. Namjoon could not recall the amount of times he caught himself thinking about that, only to tell himself to stop being a creep. But it was almost impossible for him not to fall hard. You are practically everything he ever wanted. “He really loves you Namjoon,” you started, smiling at him as your hand mindlessly reached for his, “you should see the way he talks about you… You’re his hero. He’s a very lucky boy to have you as a dad and he knows it. It’s time you figure that out too” you giggled softly, trying to reassure him. Namjoon stared at you for a second, his expression unlike anything you’d seen before, yet you couldn’t make yourself look away. “You really love him, don’t you?” he asked Your eyes widened for a second, a blush making its way onto your face as you finally felt the reality of your words reach you. Was it too much? You didn’t want to seem weird or like you were prying too much. But you couldn’t hide the fact that Jungkook held a special place in your heart, one that not many of your students had touched. There was just something about him that just made you want to be there… “He’s a special boy” “You’re special”

Namjoon looked down at your hand atop of his, his own turning slowly to be able to grip your wrist, pulling you towards him slowly. He looked up, eyes fixed on yours as he searched for any sign of discomfort, but the gaze of pure hope you had simply solidified his resolve. Without much more thought his other hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a slow, deep kiss.

Your eyes fluttered shut, body leaning into his as you whimpered softly against his lips, the feeling of them on your making your mind go blank. You couldn’t stop yourself as you reached for his shirt, pulling him closer as your hands gripped the fabric tightly. And Namjoon was right there with you. He didn’t think twice about hoping off his stool, lips never leaving yours as he pushed your legs apart gently, moving to stand in between them before he deepened the kiss. Surely by now your whole body was on fire, hands gripping at every last inch of his shirt as you tried keeping yourself grounded somehow, trying your best to stay sane and calm, but as you felt Namjoons tongue running across your bottom lip, you lost it. “Namjoon…” you moan quietly Yet all it did was alert the man of exactly what you two were doing. “Fuck… (Y/N) I’m so sorry I, I didn’t mean to go this fast I just -” “No! I…” but how could you tell him you liked it without sounding too desperate? “Please…” you looked up at him, your hand gripping his shirt tighter. Namjoon stared back at you for a second, his eyes a tad wide before it finally hit him, and he wasn’t about to wait another second. He had waited almost 3 years already. His hands cupped your face, pulling you in for a heated kiss, the frustration of having waited this long apparent in how he held you close, lips moving as if in sync with yours. You two were practically drowning in each other,  you two pressing against each other in the most delicious of ways as the world around lay there forgotten. So much so no one heard the small steps walking down the staircase. “Daddy, what are you and Miss (Y/N) doing? The quiet voice made your flinch, both of you tearing away from each other so fast you were sure you could feel some whiplash from it, but it didn’t stop either of you from looking at Jungkook and shouting, “Jungkook!”  

[poguesrforlife]

Young and Beautiful | Rudy Pankow - Part 3

Okay first of all I’m sorry it took me so long but here is part three finally. Honestly I don’t know how to feel about this because at first I wanted it to be a filler chapter and then I thought I couldn't let you hang like this so I just poured it all out. I still have some more ideas about where this might go but you guys tell me if this feels already finished to you. AND AS ALWAYS THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! for all the love and support you give, I see you all and couldn't be more thankful xxx

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Trigger warning: alcohol, swearing, nothing too smutty, a little angst and a lot of jealousy

Word count: 3,741 word (god this is so long I’m sorry)

Y/N just got the role of her lifetime, starring beside the cast of Outer Banks in the second season as JJ’s love interest. It’s a dream come true and gets even dreamier when she meets Rudy Pankow her alleged love interest. Lines start to blur between reality and film and Y/N is left wondering if taking a leap of faith is worth risking her career.

[GIF not mine credits to owner]

Days passed and filming never stopped, neither did the thought of Rudy in your mind. It was constant, the sun rose and so did your thoughts of him, the night came and so did he in your dreams. By now you were convinced that this feeling would not go away anytime soon.

Maybe some distraction would do you good. 

“How about we go out tonight?” You proposed to the girls as you were lounging in your living room, painting toe-nails, scrolling through instagram and what-not. 

“Like out out?” Madelyne’s face lit up as she looked up from her bright yellow nail polish and passed the same expression to Madison. You nodded with a smile.

“I’d be down,” Madison agreed and sprang up from the couch in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, this is exciting! Let me call the boys,” Madelyne exclaimed and got up, waddling weirdly with her still wet toe nails to her phone on the kitchen bar.

Your face fell for a second. That was not exactly what you had in mind. You wanted a distraction from Rudy and him dancing in a sweaty club with beautiful women wouldn’t really help your current state of emotions. But you couldn’t let the girls know that. After shooting the other day they wouldn’t shut up about how one could feel the sexual tension between the two of you and you were just happy they hadn’t seen the sex scene.

“You good?” Bailey inquired as she noticed your sour face. You were quick to plaster a fake smile on your lips.

“Yeah, I’m just tired of sitting around all the time. This will do us some good!” You headed towards the bathroom to get a shower before going out and also to have a moment to yourself to prepare for tonight.

“The boys are down as well!” You heard Maddie scream from the kitchen and then she passed by you as fast as she could to look through her wardrobe. 

“Somebody is excited,” Bailey muttered beside you but joined her friend with a grin and helped her pick out something to wear. 

A couple hours later you were dressed to kill and ready to go. Even though you loved the Outer Banks clothing style, it reminded you of your hometown, it was nice to doll-up every now and then. Madison was taking pictures of you three in the big mirror besides the entry when you heard a knock on the door.

Madelyn was quick to open it and you were met with five handsome men staring back at you.

Chase escaped a whistle when he took all three of you in but you noticed how his eyes stayed on Madelyn just a bit too long. You made sure to remember asking him about it later. 

“Well, hot damn,” Rudy exclaimed as he entered the apartment and his eyes landed on the short dresses you were wearing.

“Eyes up here,” Madison warned him with a smile and pointed to her own brown ones.

“Not fair,” Austin gasped, clearly thinking you were playing with their feelings. Maybe you were. When Bailey had proposed to impress some folks tonight you at least had a special someone in mind. Who was to say the others didn’t have too?

Your eyes wandered over the boys outfits, all dressed up and looking incredibly handsome. Rudy sported a cream sweater and a cute little beige hat. You didn’t know why he would wear a hat to go clubbing but you knew he loved them. 

“Are you ready to head out then?” Drew smiled at you in his bright yellow shirt and motioned towards the door.

You piled out the door and headed downstairs to get an uber to your favourite club.

“I’m not sure if I like you in heels, Y/N. You’re almost as tall as me,” Chase pointed out as he walked behind you and took in your much taller figure.

“You’ll just have to deal with it, I guess,” You laughed and did an immaculate pirouette on your heels, something you had practiced a thousand times in your room back home.

“Would you look at her,” Madison squealed with joy as she watched your boost of confidence and joined you by linking your hands together and strutting down the sidewalk like it was a runway. 

It felt good to really feel yourself again after your uncertain emotions. Even though you noticed how a certain male’s eyes kept looking at your and your friend’s long legs, you didn’t care at the moment. You were having fun and you deserved it. 

All of you split up into several cars and then you were on your way to La Push, a vibrating ambient establishment the cast had dug out last year while filming in Charleston. The girls swore that you would have the best night out ever at that particular club.

You were not disappointed as you took in the colourful lights shining on the rustic open brick walls and the retro bar in the corner. The ages of the people were mixed all through but you could clearly see that everybody was enjoying themselves.

“Drinks?” Deion asked and nodded towards an empty table next to the bar and you all headed in the direction through the crowded area of dancing bodies.

“Milady.” Rudy offered you his hand with a posh English accent as you were about to try mastering a step in your heels. 

“Thank you, kind sir,” You smiled at him and put your hand in his and let him help you down. You couldn’t keep yourself from curtsying as he laughed at you playing along. His hand held yours tight in his as he led you to some barstools. 

“Gin Tonic with a lemon slice for the lady?” He ordered with a questioning look in your direction once the bartender got your attention. You couldn’t believe he memorised your go-to drink, as you nodded thankfully. “And a Corona for me please,” He finished and watched the bartender tend to your order.

After he payed for both of your drinks you thanked him, almost having to scream as the music was too loud, and he grabbed your hand back in his to help you down from the stool.

“Sure thing, sugar.” He gave you that unmistakable Rudy smile and once again the butterflies in your stomach began soaring. 

You had to pull yourself together. You were here to distract yourself from him not fall deeper for his charm. Although you had to admit he was not making it easy for you. 

Your other friends had ordered at the table and were ready to clink glasses once you joined them. 

“To a great night,” JD proposed and raised his glass.

“And to great friends,” You joined in and held up your own Gin Tonic.

“Hear, hear,” Austin agreed and the whole group cheered in joyous laughter as you brought your drinks to the middle. You greeted the familiar taste of the alcohol with open arms and enjoyed the light burning you were quite used to by now. 

Once you set your glass back on the table, Bailey raised a brow at your already half empty glass and you simply shrugged your shoulders. You needed to let loose tonight. 

“Dance with me,” You screamed over the music and grabbed her hand and your drink and made your way towards the dance floor.

Madison was the best dancer you knew and she proved it to you once again after some R&B music started playing. Your hips were shaking, your arms wildly flailing around and your feet shuffling over the floor as you downed your glass quickly. You already felt slightly buzzed, maybe you should have eaten more before going out. 

Jonathan joined the two of you quickly, just as good a dancer as your dear curly friend, and together they stole the show. You watched in awe as they moved to the music so carelessly and were a bit jealous at their easy-going nature. 

“C’mon Y/N, show me what you got!” Drew encouraged you suddenly from beside you with an outstretched hand. You slipped closer to him and swayed your hips as he twirled you around in his arms and laughed as he dipped you back. Maybe the distraction would work after all. You didn’t know for how long the both of you danced but you felt absolutely weightless. 

“I’m impressed Starkey,” You admitted as he flew with you over the dance floor, not once missing the beat. 

“Could say the same about you Y/L/N but I had a feeling you would be a good dancer,” He smirked and turned you around so your back was pressed against his chest and let his hands wander to your hips. 

At this point you were on your third drink, a bit too intoxicated, and not quite sure if this scenario would play out well. Drew was the perfect gentleman and absolutely sweet and handsome. You liked him a lot but… But he wasn’t Rudy. His hands on your body didn’t feel like a wildfire and his scent didn’t drive you crazy and his smile did not make your head spin. You cursed yourself for these thoughts. 

You looked up, your eyes roaming the club for a certain blond head of hair. You noticed Chase and Maddy dancing intimately with each other in one corner but chose to ignore it, you had a different mission. 

“I’ll be right back,” You told Drew with an apologetic smile as you turned to look at him and he looked confused for a second. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

“Be careful in here, it’s better if you don’t go by yourself,” He reminded you, always the protective type, and looked out over the club probably searching for Bailey.

“I’ll be fine,” You reassured him with a pad on the chest and slipped out of his embrace towards the restrooms.

On your way there you finally found your man of the hour. To your amusement Rudy was dancing with an elderly woman to some pop song and looked like he was having the time of his life. You felt the corners of your mouth lifting as you took in the scene. 

You slipped into the restroom to freshen up as your eyes met the mirror. The carefully applied makeup from Madison was smeared under your eyes, your lipstick long gone and your hair was basically a mess. But despite all you looked happy, you looked alive. You quickly touched up your appearance and rejoined the others. 

As soon as you stepped out however you were met with quite the unpleasant sight. There was a beautiful woman next to Rudy, one arm on his biceps as she leaned forwards to say something to him. It shouldn’t bother you, you knew that he was an attractive man with many qualities. But as his hand rested on her waist your throat tightened and you felt embarrassment deep in your bones. Of course he didn’t want you the same way you did. It was just acting and you were friends, it didn’t mean anything. But it had meant something, to you anyways. And that’s what you got for giving into your feelings. You watched them laughing together, inching closer to each other each second and your heart burned in pain. 

You turned around stumbling to your table as you tried to suppress the tears welling in your eyes. How could you have been so stupid? It was a stupid crush nothing more. 

Drew’s eyes lit up as you made your way towards his sitting figure at the table next to some of your friends. You had two choices here: Going home now and giving in to your stupid irrational feelings and ruining your night. Or doing what you were here for and distract yourself with a fucking good time. The answer came to you immediately.

“I don’t know about you guys but I was thinking about some tequila!” You proposed with a big fake smile as you looked at your friends and the others cheered in chorus.

“A round of tequila shots for the table please,” Chase told the waiter and soon enough salt, limes and shot glasses filled to the brim with the transparent liquid were brought to you.

“Cheers bitches!” You clinked glasses, licked up the salt on your hand, downed the shot of the devil’s brew and bit in the sour lime and laughed at the faces the others made after finishing their own shots.

You were having a good time tonight, even if it took killing your mind to do so. Which seemed to be the only option after another round of shots and some more Gin Tonics and you still felt like shit every time your eyes met Rudy’s figure. The girl from before was long gone but you couldn’t help but feel betrayed. How did he not see that you were obviously hooked on him? 

He came back to your table were everybody was laughing and having a good time, everyone except you it seemed.

“Are you alright?” He asked and plopped down beside you, throwing his arm over the couch behind you.

“Just peachy,” You heard the slurring in your voice yourself not as clear as you wanted it to be and cringed a bit. But just because you were drunk that didn’t mean you had a problem. You were fine.

“How much did you have to drink?” He inquired concerned and you saw his forehead wrinkle. Your hand automatically reached out to brush his worry away.

“What’s it to you, sugar?” You deliberately used the nickname he had given you before and you actually saw a smirk on his face as you drew your hand away from his forehead, the sour expression gone.

“I think it’s better if I take you home,” He laughed when you fell back against the couch trying to look mad at him.

“I can take myself home, thank you very much,” You argued, your words still a bit slurred. He could take the fucking girl from before home for all you cared. He hadn’t spoken to you all night and suddenly he wanted to take care of you. That’s not how that shit worked.

“Besides,” You interrupted him as he was about to say something else, “You didn’t dance with me all night. I really wanted to dance with you,” You pouted and cursed yourself a second after you registered what slipped out your mouth. Your eyes widened and you sat back up. Maybe you had an alcohol problem after all.

“Then dance with me, sugar.” Your head whipped around as soon as you heard him. He leaned back against the couch, an easy smirk playing on his lips as he eyed your figure. He never looked sexier to you.

“Let’s go then!” You jumped from the table, a bit too fast and swaying a bit, but you had to prove something to yourself. You could easily be friends with Rudy without any sexual tension. You just had to separate him from your roles in your head.

His arm sneaked around your waist seconds after and he pulled you down towards the dance floor, making sure you didn’t miss any steps like before. The feeling of his hand around you drove you insane so you grabbed it and shove it away with a grin. You were perfectly capable of walking by yourself. He just laughed and shook his head at your swaying figure. You were not sure what exactly was so funny to him in this moment. 

His hands however found yours again quickly as he held them and twirled you around carefully, pushing and pulling you every which way. You absolutely adored him but you needed distance. God, why had you willingly agreed to dance with him? Well, it had been your idea but anyways. 

You were glad when a faster song by Lizzo started and you entangled yourself from him to sway your hips on your own. Not many knew it but you danced a lot better when you were drunk for some reason. You were a lot less uptight and celebrated every body part of yours with free flowing moves. Rudy obviously enjoyed your newfound confidence as he mirrored your carelessness to the beat and cheered for you. The both of you were singing along to the music, jumping up and down and shimmying back and forth, having the time of your life. At one point you stole his head and put it on yourself, convinced that you looked irresistible with it but Rudy just laughed and got it back before throwing to your table where Austin caught it with a grin.

“Have I told you how good you look tonight?” He screamed over the music as he pushed himself closer to your body. His scent invaded your space and you immediately forgot why you had wanted distance from him in the first place.

“Tell me again,” You giggled and got closer to him as well. The songs changed again, something more sultry and slower, maybe the Weeknd or Miguel you weren’t sure as your attention was directed at yet another man.

“You look absolutely radiant,” He breathed and his alcoholic breath mingled with yours that’s how close you were.

Rudy’s hands found your waist again and this time you didn’t push him away. The opposite, you rested your hands on his broad chest, feeling his fast beating heart under your right hand. He pulled you closer as you were obviously giving in to him and swayed his hips against yours, the movement making your head spin.

“Are you drunk?” You asked him. You needed him to be sober so at least one of you would remember this moment tomorrow after everything else faded away. You needed him to remember how your bodies felt pressed together in this moment. How your hearts were beating in synch to the bass rocking through you. 

“Absolutely intoxicated,” He answered with a straight, sexy voice. He didn’t sound drunk to you but his words proved you different. 

“Maybe we should-“ You stopped mid sentence as you pulled back and saw his hungry eyes directed at your lips. Whatever you wanted to say left your senses in that very second.

“…stop?” Rudy finished your sentence questioning but not making any moves to stop any of this, whatever this was. “I don’t ever want to stop. I just wanna spend forever getting high off what it feels like to be around you.”

Your breath caught at his words and your eyes slipped from his lips to his blue eyes, illuminated by the club lights occasionally. You saw the hunger in them, the unmistakable lust that was a hundred percent mirrored in your own y/e/c eyes.

He described perfectly what if felt like to be around him, like you were high, intoxicated by him. And that feeling, you never wanted it to end. 

“I’m drunk…” You told him but let out the ‘on you’ part that definitely was a part of this sentence.

“I know, me too. And I know we shouldn’t do anything that we might regret tomorrow,” He took a deep breath and one of his hands cupped your face. “But I can’t stay away from you any longer.”

“I feel the same,” You admitted and bit your lip to keep a smile from showing on your face. But it didn’t matter as Rudy’s lips moved into a grin.

“If two people can’t stay away from each other, maybe they aren’t supposed to.” You nearly groaned at his annoying habit of always being able to say the perfect thing at the right time. 

You moved closer to him, your arms slung around his neck and your hips still slowly moving to the music. Your eyelids dropped as your mouth longed for his, feeling his breath on your lips.

Unexpectedly soft his mouth landed on yours, so different from the kisses you shared on set. His lips slowly moved with yours, taking his time to get used to the feeling. And even though the heat from the other times lacked it was no less passionate. You poured every fibre of your being into kissing him and really feeling him. He tasted like tequila and forbidden dreams and if you weren’t drunk before, you definitely were now.

Rudy became more needy as the kiss went on, his lips moving faster and his hands pulling you closer against him. When his teeth caught your lower lip you were done for. Without any regard for reason you gave into him. His tongue slipped into your mouth battling with yours for dominance. Your mouths bumped clumsily against each other as you were smiling into the kiss, teeth biting here and there occasionally but you couldn’t care less. You had waited for this for too long to show any signs of hesitation. After what felt like an eternity you pulled apart, breathing heavily. Your eyes locked and it felt like ecstasy was coursing through your veins.

“There you are! We’ve been looking for you for at least an hour.” You were thrown into ice-cold water as JD’s voice pulled you back into reality. You looked at him, the rest of your friends heading towards the door. Rudy and you shuffled apart awkwardly and fixed yourself a little. Your short dress had ridden up and his hair was all over the place.

“C’mon guys, we’re leaving!” Chase shouted from afar.

Your eyes wandered to Rudy, a content smile lying on his swollen lips as he stared at the floor. His hand slipped around yours and he pulled you after him, walking backwards so he could look at you.

“Our little secret,” He said with a wink and cupped your cheek in his other hand, before pecking your lips once again secretly and then following the others outside and to the Ubers taking you back to your flats.

You were still not fully understanding what had just happened, if it was all a feverish dream caused by the alcohol. But every time you thought that this could only be in your imagination Rudy’s hand on your thigh or around your waist pulled you back into reality. This was no longer part of a role, this was real life. And you would enjoy every second of it.

Tags: @lovelymaybankk @sspidermanss @1d5sosddl @arthiriticcricket @teamnick @lieswithoutfairytales @styles-xoxo @normatural @k-k0129 @mileven-reddie @perfektionsmakel @1-800-imagines @http-cherries @golden-eroda @outofstyles13 @jj-maybank-stan @fandom-phaser @hopelesswritingxd @teenwaywardasgardian @poguecollins @jjswhore @xpastel-kawaiix @styles-edward-harry @rollinsstuff @obx-baby @masintahin @floretsoleil @ivebeenthinkingboutu @fandomxreaders @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @pookie-cleary @kiarascarreras @runway-to-my-aid @saturnspack @sunshinemadds @hucklebaefinn @baileythepenguin @spider6oy @whoreforouterbanks​ @diego-klaus-hargreeves​

(I hope I didn’t miss anyone! If you’re not on here but would like to be send me a quick message xx)

[fictionalabyss]

Saltine.

Pairing : Crowley x Plussize!Reader

Word count : 1,930

Warnings : AU (Crowley isn't a demon but is super fucking rich), Cam girl, Cam show, drinking, partial nudity

Header by : @sorenmarie87, as always. She's the best and I adore her and her work.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

The internet was filled with so many girls thinking they could get rich quick just by taking off their clothes. Like they were something special, something to behold. But really, they were one in a billion. Forgettable. Nothing different from the next person.

You were one in thousands. Slightly better odds.

Being a BBW, while nothing overly special on it’s own, did do one thing for you. People who ended up in your room knew what they wanted. They wanted a curvaceous goddess in their face. Curves and softness, something you had plenty of. The pool of plus size cam girls was smaller than the pool of everyone else.

Beyond that, you did what people paid you to do. If a guy paid you to fill your room with balloons and pop them one after another by sitting on them, you did it. Rub lotion all over your stomach and then spit on it, sure. Wear clothes that were two sizes too small, why not.

Tonight was kind of like that. Packages from a few regulars had shown up in your PObox, and one of them had contained a bottle of booze. Glencraig, a scotch whiskey you’d never heard of until James showed up in your chat room and paid for a private show where you drank and talked with him for an hour about two months ago. Now you had your own bottle. So you had taken a picture of it sitting between your legs, put it as your profile pic on the site and titled your chat “Me and Craig. Let’s see where this goes.”

Crowley’s bored and frustrated. The office is empty and he’s supposed to be working but he’s pent up. It’s been a long day of morons fucking shit up and he needed a god damn break. Billions of dollars at his disposal and he still couldn’t buy good fucking help to run his business.

He’s scrolling through women, looking for someone to catch his eye and quickly realizing he doesn’t think anyone will. They’re all the same. Once you’ve had one, you’d had them all, and he’s had plenty in his time. Fergus McLeod was no innocent. He was the farthest thing from it.

With a grunt of disapproval, he started looking for something different, hoping for something new. Key words being typed into searches, but nothing catching his eye in half of those either. Not for long, anyways. ‘BBW’ was a keyword he’d hit. Not many girls online, some of them into some niche things that he’d honestly consider, but all their pictures were the same. Every single one.

Except one. It had him leaning closer, trying to read the label. Interested enough in that at least, he hit join. What he found inside made his cock twitch.

A dark leather chair, not too different from one he  sat in himself. Smooth thick thighs he found himself wanting to bite into. And between them? The item that had taken hold of his interest, the reason he’d clicked to join. Glencraig. The bottle was freshly opened from the looks of it, about three fingers missing, so probably only on her second glass at most. He leaned in again, trying to get a closer look at the label. A soft curse fell from his lips when he saw the numbers 1974, and then ‘Aged 34 Years’. His cock twitched again, and he found himself reaching down to grip it through his slacks.

It was a close up of the bottle right now, and he wasn’t complaining. No one complained when she went to refill her glass, either. A whiskey glass was brought down to her thigh, then the bottle was brought out of where it was nestled, and a bare pussy was exposed. Chimes rang through his office, followed by a soft giggle as she poured, and then the bottle was placed back down, her pussy hidden once more behind the amber liquid and the black label. Then the camera moved.

It was tilted up more, following the glass as it was brought up to her lips and she took another sip. A shiver ran down her spine as it burned, and Crowley found himself smiling along with her. He heard another chime, then her laugh again. The tip amounted to about 75$, give or take.

“James, don’t be absurd, you already paid for the bottle.” She spoke as she pushed the camera back, giving a full view. Bottle between her legs and that seductive smile on her lips.

A message came up in the chat that read ‘Maybe I want you to be able to get yourself another. Hey guys! Let’s get her enough to order another bottle so we can have another night like this!’

The chat sped up, messages agreeing with the sentiment, and more chimes of tips being given for the cause. Another giggle came from her lips as she brought the glass back up to her mouth.

Not to be out done, Crowley made a donation of his own.

You were smiling, giggling, happy that everyone seemed to enjoy the theme of the room tonight. Glad that James approved of how you used his gift. You tilted the glass back just as a few chimes went off signaling more donations, and one of them made you choke on the scotch and spit it out. You stared at the screen, stunned as the liquid ran down off your chin.

Who the fuck was TheKing, and why did he just drop what had to be about 2 grand on you?

A new alert sounded, and you noticed you had a DM. Speak of the devil.

>> TheKing : From one Glencraig lover to another. I hope you enjoy it, love.

You stared at it, still in shock. In all your time as a cam girl, on here, on BBW specific sites, nothing like this had ever happened before. People bought gifts, sure, but this?

>> TheKing : Breathe, darling. >> TheKing : Don’t forget to breathe.

Realizing you had just been sitting there staring at the screen, you wiped your chin off and licked your lips, trying to collect yourself. The main chat was blowing up, you weren’t the only one dealing with shock and awe with what just happened.

“Uhm.” you breathed out awkwardly, not sure what to say, how to react. Was this real? “All hail The King?” an awkward chuckle followed the words, but the chat room was filled with messages of ‘all hail TheKing!’  “Should I bow.. or..” you joked, with a shy smile.

>> TheKing : No need to bow, love. >> TheKing : Though I wouldn’t say no to a conversation.

A soft smile graced your lips before you typed out your answer.

<< Saltine : We’re having a conversation. >> TheKing : I was thinking something a little more face to face. >> TheKing : I hear your voice, you hear mine.

You licked your lips, the general chat room forgotten for the moment. With money he dropped on you, your undivided attention for a moment was the least you could do.

<< Saltine : I don’t meet people from the site in person. It’s a safety issue, I’m sure you understand.

Three little dots in the corner let you know he was typing almost immediately.

>> TheKing : I wouldn’t expect you to, love. I meant more of a chat where I have my camera on too. Make it a little more intimate. I don’t mind paying for a private show where you don’t need to show anything. I would just like a drink with you.

You chewed on your bottom lip for a moment, considering the offer. Private shows didn’t really happen a whole lot, but when they did, it was charged by the minute so it was worth the time. You found yourself using your thumb to crack the knuckle of your index finger, and then your middle one before you nodded. “Yeah, we can do a private chat.” you spoke, letting the chatroom know your cam would be shutting off in there in a minute.

>> TheKing : You just made me a very happy man, darling. Whenever you’re ready, you let me know.

You were chewing on your lip as you waited for his cam to kick in. It was a moment of black before a bright light seemed to come on, and quickly it shifted. There was black in the middle of brightness, and then slowly the light seemed to adjust. It was a window. A massive window. As the lighting adjusted, you found yourself looking at a man in a suit and behind him, a city skyscape all laid out for him.  Glancing at the time, you wondered where in the world he was. Was it evening like where you were, the sun still holding on and not yet ready to set, or was that a morning glow behind him. Either way, it looked beautiful.

The man himself was something to behold. Not stunningly beautiful, not young and fit like some of the guys who popped up on camera for you, but captivating. He seemed to demand attention, radiating power. He was someone. A few very short hairs touched his forehead, he had a short beard as well, one you had the urge to run your fingertips over. Dark piercing eyes that you felt burning into you as one side of his mouth turned up into a smirk at your reaction of seeing him.

“H-hi.” you stuttered, then curse yourself for it.

His smile only widened. He brought a glass up, and that’s when you noticed the bottle on his desk. The same as the bottle still sitting between your thighs. He took a sip, then placed the glass down on the dark wood. “Why Saltine?” he asked, and you felt your stomach flutter at the accent.

“Because I’m so fucking salty all the time?” You gave him a shy smile. “Why TheKing? What are you the king of?”

“Your dreams.” He answered without hesitation and a fuck ton of confidence. He was cocky, he knew the effect he had on people and how to use it. “If you wish it.”

“Tempting.” you try to tease, lifting your own glass to your lips. “Why me?” you ask before sipping.

“Glencraig. Aged 30 years or more, there is no finer drink, love. It’s rare to find a woman with such tastes.”

“It was bought for me.”

“But you enjoy it, yes?” You gave him a nod. You had to admit, it wasn’t bad. “A woman of taste.” he smiled again. “What other things do you enjoy, Saltine? Money? Things? Travel?”

“Are you offering?” he intrigued you. He really did. Something about him made you want more and you didn’t even know him. “I could use a vacation.”

“Anywhere you want, darling. Where would you like to go?”

“Paris.” You answered quickly, and it didn’t seem to faze him at all. “Scotland.” you added. “England. Ireland. India. Japan. I want to see it all.”

His smile widened again. “Scotland, eh? It has been a while since I’ve been home.”

“I was joking.” you chuckled.

“I wasn’t. In another life, I could’ve given you everything you wanted and more with just a snap of my fingers.” You sat there, stunned again. “Choose a place and I’ll send you there. If you want, I’ll take the time and meet you there. The choice is yours, darling. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this interested in anything.”

“All because of a bottle of Craig?” you asked.

“Everything good in life starts with a quality scots. Be it a whiskey, or a scotsman.” he winked. “So where first?”

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[tatooedlaura-blog]

Fancy Paper Napkins

because doesn’t everybody eat their fancy meals with fancy paper napkins ...

Our Moments: Chapter 1: Five Words (post-Leonard Betts) Chapter 2: Sidebar Nonsense (post-Memento Mori) Chapter 3: Interim (floating somewhere around Unrequited) Chapter 4: Max 2.0 (post-Tempus Fugit/Max) Chapter 5: Shadowed Grey Eyes Chapter 6: The Warmest Thing I Own Chapter 7: Fancy Paper Napkins @today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

He actually slept, his mind calm, until he heard her whispering in his ear, “what are you cooking and when will it be ready?”

Opening his eyes, he saw hers staring at him, awake and bright, “what?”

“I’m hungry and I saw the crockpot plugged in.”

He broke into a grin, more from her proximity than anything else and forcing himself not to look at her mouth, not to think of that kiss, “mushrooms. Garlicy, buttery mushrooms that have been slow cooking in the crockpot,” looking over her head at the clock, “for four hours.” Sitting up quickly, “shit. I have to go stir them.”

Rolling off the bed, he disappeared down the hall, Scully close behind, “they won’t burn.”

“I’ll feel better when I see for myself.” Finally in the kitchen, he opened the crockpot, stirred with the big spoon, and glad to see the mushrooms soft and unburned, offered Scully a taste. Refusing with an, ‘I’d like to wait for dinner,’ he nodded towards the fridge, “go grab the steak, would you?”

They ate like civilized people, at the kitchen table, forks, knives, fancy paper napkins …

… “I refuse to use cloth ones because they’re too damn hard to clean.”

… “Did I say anything?”

… “No.”

… “Then why are you arguing at me?”

and a bottle of not-so-cheap wine Mulder found in his travels through Scully’s cupboards.

“I shouldn’t drink this.”

“Will it lower your inhibitions? Will you sweep off the coffee table and dance on it if I wave a bunch of ones at you? Will you tell me all your secrets?”

She couldn’t keep her hand from shaking as she poured them both glasses, “mostly I’m thinking that it’ll make me fall asleep even early that I probably would have already.”

Ignoring the tremor, “as long as you stay awake enough for ice cream.”

“I will do my best.”

She made it through half the steak, a bowl of mushroom, and three spoons of mashed potatoes, before finally giving in, trading her plate for Mulder’s empty, who continued to eat without pause. Watching him, she had to smile, “thank you.”

“For finishing your food? No problem.”

Not able to articulate at that particular moment that she was actually thanking him for a thousand things at once, she simply agreed, wondering if he’d figure it out on his own, “yeah, I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

Giving her a grin, he finished her food, then stood, “give me ten minutes to do dishes and put everything away, then we’ll argue about movies.”

“Let me load the dishwasher, at least. You won’t do it right and I’ll just have to redo it when you’re not looking.” Standing as well, she bumped hips with him as she walked past, “save me the trouble.”

Twisting up his leg, he hit her on the butt with his stocking foot, “smartass.”

They finally settled on several movies but still sitting on the couch, facing a blank TV and a window with a sunset just beginning to tint the room pink, Mulder gently poked her in the side, “how’re you doing?”

Feeling the urge to move, to take advantage of feeling okay for the moment, “I think I’d like to go for a walk.”

Up immediately, he leaned in, kissing the tip of her nose, “any destination in mind?”

“Just … around.”

“Around it is.”

&&&&&&&&&

Warm enough to wander without jackets, they headed out her front door and turned left, bare arm brushing bare arm as they walked. They didn’t say much, commenting on scurrying squirrels here, a cute cat in the window there, Mulder catching a waywardly stumbling child tripping past, “geez, if I had known we were going to be experiencing a Norman Rockwell painting, I would have combed my hair and put on a clean shirt.”

Her laughter hit his ears like his favorite song and reaching over, he took her hand, never asking, never letting go as they circled and turned, ambled and veered. She didn’t argue, her thin, cool fingers enjoying his warmth.

But even on her best days lately, she gave in quicker than she’d have liked, 45 being the magic number of minutes she lasted until, “I think I’m ready for some ice cream.”

Giving her hand a squeeze, “ice cream it is. What kind should we start with?”

Discussion ensued and by the time they were in their pajamas, they’d settled on dark fudge and peanut butter swirl to begin with. Two spoons dove in, two spoons sampled, occasionally Scully would pull her loaded spoon out and looking at Mulder, found his mouth wide open, waiting expectantly.

And by God, she fed him.

The first time felt a little weird but by the third time he did it, she was laughing, “can you not feed yourself fast enough?”

“Nope.”

That was good enough for her.

Once the gorging finished, they’d had at least one spoonful out of each carton Mulder had bought, six in all, the flavors running the gambit and Scully full and happy and sleepy. “Are you going to be able to sleep with all that sugar in your system?”

Mulder grinned, chocolate rimming his lips, “if not, I’ll have a TV to keep me company while you drool all over your pillow.” A relieved sigh, one she didn’t know she was holding, escaped, and Mulder cocked his head, suddenly worried, “y’a’right?”?”

And deciding there was no reason not to tell him, “I think I was nervous you were going to go home tonight and,” another sigh, this one embarrassed, “it’s been a really nice day and if you went home, it would be over and,” slight wobbly smile appearing, “I don’t want it to be over just yet.”

Knowing something funny was in order, he raised an eyebrow in her direction, “is that some veiled attempt at asking me to move in here?”

Her smile steadied, “just go start the movie.”

&&&&&&&&&

Midnight rolled around and even though Scully had given in and gone to bed, Mulder was still awake and indeed watching TV, some cooking show he’d never admit to enjoying but enjoyed nonetheless. The sound was off and suddenly, the quiet of the darkened apartment was broken by Scully calling from the bedroom, “Mulder?”

It didn’t sound like a nightmare which, in his mind, could only mean she needed help. Jogging down the hall, he was in her doorway a second later, “yeah? You okay?”

Still laying down, she met his nervous gaze, her own a unique brand of terrified confusion, “am I still here?”

Immediately walking to the other side of the bed, he crawled under the covers, his hand meeting her cheek after she rolled over to face him, “yeah. You’re right here, in your bed.” When her terror didn’t fade, he continued, quieter, moving to meet her forehead with his, “you’re with me, in your apartment,” hand moving to the back of her neck, “whatever you dreamt wasn’t real.”

“It will be.” Feeling the bed shake as she hitched a silent sob, she managed a cracked whisper, “I don’t want to die.” Her fingers ran over his cheek, his ear, “I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”

The tear escaped before he could blink it away but he kept the others in, reservoir full but holding, “we’re gonna beat this. I guarantee it.”

She couldn’t bring herself to believe him anymore and she couldn’t keep up the lie at this hour, “you don’t know that.”

“But I choose to believe it.” Hand in her hair by now, he pulled her close enough that their noses were smushed together and eyelashes tangled, “I need to believe it.”

Maybe she could pretend a little more after all, “do you believe enough for both of us?”

“I believe enough for this whole damn world. You should know that by now.”

She could only nod against him, bringing their mouths to millimeter distances but refraining, crippling fear not a good enough reason to cross the line between them, “can you stay right here with me, tonight?”

He crossed it for them, a quick brush of lips, a quick nuzzle of noses, “I won’t move until you do.”

“I don’t want you to leave me alone.”

Both knew the translation of that:

I don’t want to die alone.

&&&&&&&&

The next morning, Scully opened her eyes to find Mulder still sharing her pillow, not touching anymore but close enough to have him blurry in front of her instead of clear. For five seconds, she forgot her world and felt warm fuzzies chasing through her, up and down her spine, settling low.

Then, reality set in with a resounding thud.

Pulling back, she sat up, turning quickly so he wouldn’t see the tears racing down her face. Neither could ignore the echoing sob, however and Mulder, already half-awake, sat up, confusion clearing in a heartbeat as he slid across the mattress, arm around her front, hugging her back to his chest. Kissing her neck and that hated, fucking scar, “we’re gonna win. I swear to God, we’re gonna win.”

And they cried together.

[jackson--t]

Hi ! I hope you're doing well. I've had an idea for a one shot and though I could write it myself I don't think it could ever come out as beautiful as if you would write it so here it is.

I was thinking of Ivar and Heahmund as a couple. They haven't really had to spend too much time away from each other because whenever ine traveled with work the other would come along so maybe this time Ivar has to go alone because it's urgent and Heahmund can't come along cause he's stuck at work and unable to take a few days off. I was thinking Ivar would be so homesick. Like unable to sleep and stuff. And though he would have had to spend around a week away he won't be able to stay away for so long and return 3 days later and surprises Heahmund and they cuddle q lot and Ivar barely let's Heahmund go anywhere because he's touch starved.

You don't have to write it. It's just an idea but if you fancy it and want to I would feel honored to have my idea written by you and also very happy. Thank you ! Love ya!

Hello my dear, and I feel so honored that you want me to write this idea of yours! ❤️ As I already told you, it was a huge pleasure for me as I can identify myself with that situation very well, and I really hope that you like what I wrote and it turned maybe a little bit out the way you wanted it. Thank you so much! ❤️

Three days

Words: ~ 3k.

It's all pure fluff and stuff, and a bit of missing, obviously. xD

Ivar clenched his hand lightly around Heahmund's; he had been afraid, damned afraid of this day that was coming anyway - and it had just been there far too quickly, far too fleetingly, and most of all - far too hard.

He could feel Heahmund squeezing his hand a little tighter as well, but the big man only smiled slightly, while Ivar could already feel the tears in his eyes.

"I can't do that, no. I'd rather be out of a job." he snarled tensely, while Heahmund let out a soft snort. They had arrived at the final departure lounge, where he would soon be leaving - and where Ivar would have to say a final goodbye to Heahmund.

They had been a couple for maybe two years, had been through many ups and downs together - but they had never been apart for long. The longest they had spent without each other was one day. And that was only because Ivar had been far too offended at the time and had missed his bus when he had changed his mind after all. In that night, Ivar had sworn to himself that he would never again spend even one night apart from Heahmund - which had generally worked out well. When one of the two had to travel, they had taken each other with them. One had taken time off, the other was working; in this way they had been able to discover many places together. But this time it had been different. Since Heahmund had an important job to do, he couldn't take time off - just when Ivar had to fly away for a week for his job.

It was the first time Ivar had seriously considered just quitting; it was one thing to go to work and have your partner back in bed with you in the evening; but something completely different to have to go to sleep without him. The thought of it sent deep goosebumps down Ivar's body, and he sighed deeply.

"Honey, you're hurting me. It's only a week.", Heahmund said in a relaxed manner, trying to lightly release his hand from the clamp-like grip of Ivar's warm fingers; however, Ivar shook his head. Breathe in, breathe out, he told himself; but his eyes betrayed him. It wasn't really a tear that ran lightly from the corner of his eye, but Heahmund saw it anyway.

He made a soft clicking sound with his tongue and wrapped his arms tightly around the middle of Ivar's body; Ivar buried his face deep in Heahmund's black jacket, breathing in deeply the smell of his boyfriend. God, how he would miss him. Already his body felt drained, and his heart area became terribly heavy.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Heahmund. What are you going to do without me? Who's going to cook for you? And don't you dare meet anyone else.", Ivar mumbled dully into Heahmund's jacket, and he wrapped his arms tighter around Heahmund as he laughed softly and melodically.

"Babe, I'm not seeing anyone else. And besides, I'll probably survive a week without you! What are delivery services for, huh?" Heahmund replied, lifting Ivar's chin with a slight movement; Ivar blinked.

"Still. I should stay here." he grumbled, and Heahmund laughed softly.

"I have something for you that will comfort you a little. I know you always claim you don't like these things and are too old for them - but you always hug your bear very fiercely for that when I come home at night. That's why...", Heahmund said and pulled something out of his jacket pocket; it was a small stuffed animal, a small, soft hyena, wearing a dark blue ribbon around its neck. Ivar had to swallow; he took the stuffed animal carefully in his hands and then blinked very gently up at Heahmund, who looked at him with a smile.

"A hyena! You remember I was particularly fond of those?" he murmured softly, and Heahmund nodded as his hand went lightly to the back of Ivar's neck.

"Sure. You took about 200 pictures, and you kept stressing how much you'd like one yourself, and that you'd keep it in the bedroom."

"In the bathroom, so it could have a tub!"

"Of course!" Heahmund snorted in amusement; through the hall came the distinct and final call for Ivar's Gate, and the voice again sent a terrible shiver down Ivar's spine. He pressed himself as tightly as he could against Heahmund and sobbed slightly; Heahmund's warm fingers stroked through his hair, which for once he had not braided today, and which was just wildly disheveled. Who else was he going to make himself pretty for when his future husband wasn't around?

"Shhht, it's going to be okay, Ivar. You have to go now.", Heahmund said softly; Ivar knew it was time, but he found it extremely difficult to let go of the warm and familiar body and the familiar, beloved smell.

They kissed firmly and as long as they could; before Heahmund softly broke the kiss and smiled at Ivar once more. "You call me as soon as you land, okay? And no cell phone on the plane!" he said with a wink, and Ivar rolled his eyes.

He wiped away the last of his tears and hugged the hyena tightly before shuffling towards his gate with infinitely heavy feet. He looked after Heahmund for as long as he could - and when his dearly beloved guy disappeared behind him, the whole feeling in his body became really crushing. He tried to calm himself down the aisles to the plane and not show his tears - which worked well as long as he kept chewing his lower lip and answering all questions from stewardesses and staff only with a dull nod.

But it wasn't until he was sitting in his seat on the plane that all his emotions suddenly came rushing up - especially when he put the little hyena down on his lap and squeezed it tightly. He knew it was Heahmund's way of letting him know he was there - but the takeoff still sucked. Normally, during airplane takeoffs, Ivar always held Heahmund's hand, and always huddled slightly against Heahmund's shoulder out of fear; now that he wasn't there, the plane takeoff was a thousand times worse for Ivar.

The flight itself went by quickly, it was also only two hours. But the first day in his seminar from work was not great. Ivar found it awful to keep in touch with Heahmund only through his cell phone. Every two minutes he glanced at the screen, waiting to receive another heart, or an "I love you, I miss you." He knew Heahmund was working, too - but his inner, offended side most wanted Heahmund to text him every second.

The distraction of the seminar made the day go by quickly, even though Ivar shut down easily; he barely listened, and when he fell into his bed at night, all the fierce violence of missing him came crashing down. It took him a few seconds, a few seconds and his little hyena, before he could breathe reasonably again and pull out his cell phone to call Heahmund.

"Hey, little guy. Are you okay?" Heahmund said; he sounded tired and exhausted, but tears immediately started to flow on Ivar's face.

"I want to go home, I don't feel like it anymore! I'm homesick as hell, and I already know I can't sleep in this shitty bed! Heahmund, come get me. You can work from here too!" Ivar grumbled, sniffling as Heahmund laughed softly.

"Babe, you know I can't do that. I've really had a lot of conversations today, and I'm really, really knackered. I'm about to go to sleep too."

"You sound really tired too. But still... How am I supposed to sleep without you?" Ivar whined softly as Heahmund tossed and turned, Ivar heard it clearly. "And you're not supposed to sleep on the couch, Heahmund."

"I'm about to go to bed. Are you stalking me?"

"No, but I know our couch." Ivar said, smiling slightly; although tears were running slightly from his eyes, he could not hide the smile. He hugged the hyena a little more to his chest, imagining for a moment that it was Heahmund's warm hand; it helped a little.

"You are unique, at least your ears are. Which, after all, only hear what they want to hear. I miss you, Ivar."

Ivar swallowed hard. "I miss you too."

"We can talk on the phone with video tomorrow, I'm really too tired today."

"All right. Sleep well, and don't touch yourself too much! I want the full load when I get back.", Ivar grinned slightly, and he heard Heahmund snort exactly: it was the snort that Ivar knew quite well he was imagining him naked, with Ivar lying underneath him, moaning and whimpering.

"Of course. The same goes for you. I want you trembling and fucking starved with me," Heahmund replied; "...I love you. If there's anything, get in touch!"

"I love you, too. Will do."

As soon as he hung up, Ivar's heart grew heavy again, terribly heavy. He felt like there was a heavy weight on his chest, almost crushing him. It was such a sickening feeling to be lying alone in this bed, so many miles from Heahmund.

"You're 20, you can do it," Ivar whispered to himself as he tucked himself in and snuggled comfortably. But no matter what he did, he couldn't sleep.

His thoughts kept circling around Heahmund, and his body and soul missed the man next to him just terribly. Ivar had the feeling that his body was in severe withdrawal, that he simply needed Heahmund to function at all. He remembered the smell, the so familiar smell of Heahmund's neck and chin as they lay over Ivar's head, taking him in; he remembered his fingers always sliding over Heahmund's chest, sometimes on shaved, smooth, skin, sometimes on something hairier... but either way, it was the most wonderful feeling in the world to sleep in Heahmund's warm embrace.

For as long as Ivar could remember, he had always slept with his head on Heahmund's chest or shoulder; he couldn't think of an evening when they hadn't somehow fallen asleep without physical contact. Even on the hottest summer nights, Ivar would always curl up against Heahmund's back like a little hedgehog, holding at least his one arm, no matter how much Heahmund grumbled in his half-sleep.

It was simply his means of falling asleep, of waking up, of feeling good all around. But now, so alone in this hotel room, he felt completely lost and abandoned. The pain after Heahmund's closeness was so gravely real that Ivar found it difficult to breathe normally at all; again and again small sobs interrupted his breathing, and he pressed the hyena very tightly against him; unfortunately, it no longer bore any traces of Heahmund's scent, and only now did Ivar remember that he had forgotten to pack a worn shirt of Heahmund's - and it was so bad for him in those seconds that he burst into sheer tears, which only subsided when he eventually fell asleep from exhaustion.

The next two days were an absolute nightmare for Ivar. He didn't want to and couldn't eat anything, hardly felt like doing anything with the others even though the weather was wonderful - and he cried so terribly after every phone call with Heahmund that he always had to calm down before he could do anything else.

This feeling didn't go away either, and it got worse. This terrible feeling that a very primary part of him was missing, that his better and more beautiful half was simply missing. This missing squeezed all the nice feelings out of him and took over almost his entire daily life - so much so, that on the third day he was fed up and pretended to be sick so he could fly home.

He didn't tell Heahmund about all the action, because he would have just said, "You can't do that," and put on his dad look, along with his glasses, which he needed to work. But Ivar didn't care what he would think; he wrote to a work colleague of Heahmund's beforehand and asked her if he was in the office - when she answered in the affirmative, Ivar decided that he would wait for him at home as a surprise.

It was like a warm hug when Ivar unlocked the door to their apartment and smelled the scent of Heahmund still in the air; his heart was still burning, and he could hardly breathe with excitement - but finally he was home again.

Ivar felt a little bad that he had lasted such a short time and had only managed three days without Heahmund. But he knew that he would not have been able to stand it any other way, and no matter what Heahmund would say - he would just be glad to hold the man in his arms again. It would take away all the pain, and finally the endless burdensome pressure from his chest.

As he wandered through the apartment and looked around, he discovered slight chaos in some corners; but he was not angry. Rather, he smiled from the bottom of his heart, because he saw exactly that Heahmund seemed to need him in everyday life as much as Ivar needed him. As he was already unpacking his suitcase in the bedroom, he discovered the photo album of all their travels on Heahmund's bedside table; it was still open, and Ivar carefully took the book in his hands.

It showed a page with four pictures where they had been together in Egypt; there were pyramids in the background, and Ivar kissed Heahmund on the cheek while the older man grabbed his butt. It was a wonderful photo, and Ivar had to hold back his tears hard. It touched him more than anything that Heahmund had apparently looked at these pictures, even though he had seemed so tough on the phone. It was a moment that was so precious to Ivar - even though it was just a small, hidden detail in their otherwise great relationship.

As the evening approached, Ivar had almost prepared Heahmund's favorite meal; he had placed the little hyena in the hallway so that it would be the first thing the older man would see when he came into the apartment. And indeed - after a little while Ivar heard the lock of the door open, and someone standing in the hallway, puzzled. For a moment, nothing was heard - Ivar bit his lower lip in gleeful excitement before quietly sneaking around the corner of the hallway. He lurked around the corner and saw Heahmund perplexedly picking up the hyena and eyeing it in his hand, and once he had his eyes on this beautiful man, Ivar could wait no longer.

He jumped around the corner and threw himself into Heahmund's arms; the older man was a little startled, but he caught Ivar effortlessly and immediately took him deep and tight in his arms. He even lifted him up slightly with the embrace, and Ivar smiled broadly as Heahmund kissed him breathlessly, demanding.

"Oh fuck, I missed you so much, my little burglar." he murmured against Ivar's cheek, and Ivar took his face in both hands and kissed him again, firmly and intimately. Although tears were running down his cheek, he finally let go of that terribly heavy feeling of missing him, and he could finally breathe freely again. His arms wrapped around Heahmund's neck as tightly as he could, and the older man held him effortlessly in his strong arms.

"I escaped." Ivar admitted dryly, and Heahmund laughed softly.

"How did you do that again, huh?"

"I said I was too sick, and I just flew. Heahmund, I couldn't go on without you, I'm so damn starved and it hurt so much and... oh, the food!", Ivar groaned and pressed one last kiss on Heahmund before breaking free from the hug and running to the kitchen.

They spent a wonderful dinner together, and Ivar talked an incredible amount, though he didn't actually catch that much; but he was immensely satisfied when he was finally able to lie down in Heahmund's arms in the evening, and the older man pulled him into an intimate embrace on the sofa.

Ivar inhaled the smell of Heahmund deeply and firmly and swore to himself that he would never let him go - at most when he had to go to the bathroom. But that was it. Far too much had he missed the pressure of strong arms around him, and didn't want to be left alone for another minute.

When Heahmund wanted to get something to snack on from the kitchen, Ivar grumbled; but he clung with his arms around Heahmund's broad shoulders and let himself be carried like a little monkey all the way to the kitchen, where Heahmund finally had to laugh.

"What are you doing, huh? Are you my little spider monkey again?" he said, amused, and pushed Ivar onto the kitchen table; Ivar chuckled lightly and wrapped his arms around Heahmund again, even though he actually wanted to go to the freezer to get some ice cream. But Ivar kept a tight grip on him, and additionally clamped his legs around Heahmund's hips.

The big man raised an eyebrow, slightly enraptured, and leaned down to Ivar; they kissed intimately, and Ivar felt Heahmund's warm hands slide under his shirt with a slight pleasant hum.

"Are you a little starved?" he murmured softly, and slowly began kissing Ivar's sensitive right side of his neck; a thousand butterflies raced through Ivar's body, and he opened his full lips slightly to let out a soft moan.

"Yes - starved for touch. After all, we have three days to make up, my big guy."

Heahmund's eyebrow rose again in rapture, and not a second passed before the two strong arms had Ivar firmly in their grasp once more, and they were kissing fiercely. And even as Heahmund pulled his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, he knew for sure that he never wanted to be without this man for even one more day. Fuck the job - he didn't need money.

He just needed the full love and absolute closeness of this incredible man with him, forever.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

@youbloodymadgenius @jadelynlace @punkrocknpearls (Uh, I don't remember if it was you who wanted to be tagged in stuff like this? xD Otherwise, I'm so sorry! <3)

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 5: The Three Day Hike

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

Oh, what was that you said about progress? Liu reveals what you could only guess and you reveal a deep secret that's been eating you alive. It doesn't go well.

A/N: I love writing you yelling at each other and then having deep emotional baggage moments Lol. I also just love angst, idk. I just do. It's fun to make characters hurt! Hope you guys are doing well. Smooches. As always, open to suggestions for nonsense.

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

A wall of shadow rose into the heavens above, melting into the clouds, and spreading darkness like ink through veins. Red light shone through the gaps in the clouds and the ground began to freeze before your feet. Kung Lao’s face was just before yours. His familiar long face, broad jaw, worry in his dark eyes, all things you missed so desperately. You touched his cheek and his skin turned gray beneath your fingertips.

“Wake up, Y/N.” He begged you and your fingers froze. Ice crackled over your palm and spread up your arm. “Please.” He grabbed your shoulders and you gasped at the feeling of cold in your chest, sudden and violent. Shutting your eyes tight you tried to breathe but when you opened them, you were in the little cabin, tucked neatly into bed, the bag with Kung Lao’s trinket in your arms.

You were alone in the cabin and trembling, so you pulled the bag closer to comfort you. A nightmare, of course. You’d had them a thousand times since he’d died but this felt different. Your hands were stained with ink and that worried you too. Kung Lao had been so desperate to wake you up and the imagery had been so obscure and yet specific. You’d suffered a curse of visions once, but Raiden had helped you through it. It had been worse when you were a kid but back then it had disappeared after a few years too. You’d grown out of it.

This hadn’t been a vision, right? Not in any way that you could interpret. It was just you missing Kung Lao and feeling guilty for living without him. Probably feeling guilty for sleeping with Liu Kang. And feeling guilty for making it harder on him.

Guilt. That was to blame.

You got ready for the day and slung your bag over your shoulder and stepped outside the cabin. The sun was shining and it was unseasonably warm. Liu Kang sat near the door in the grass meditating. That was much more like the Liu Kang you were used to. You smiled. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad. Last night had been nice. Even a little comforting.

“They offered us supplies for the hike. We should grab some before we go. Food at least.” You greeted him and he heaved an annoyed sigh and looked to you as if frustrated that you’d interrupted him. “Sorry-“

“I’m good.”

“…but it’s a… three… day….” You began and he returned to his meditation without hearing you out. Never mind. Bitchy Liu Kang was back. So much for that. You bit you tongue and decided it best to leave him be. There was no point in fighting so early in the morning. You were too shaky from your nightmare and had bigger things to think about than hot and cold Liu Kang. It was like he’d borrowed Kung Lao’s ego to make up for the loss of his brother. “Fine.” You went on your way. If he wanted to be a moron about it, then you would let him be a moron.

Once away from the intoxicating stink of Liu Kang, you felt much better. The people of the village were exceedingly kind and generous. You took only what you thought you would need for your journey and a day’s extra just in case something went wrong. Both you and Liu were resourceful so if you got into a pinch, you would manage. He’d trained his whole life for survival, and you’d gotten pretty good at it since coming to Raiden’s Temple.

You packed up the supplies and then thanked them again for their hospitality before heading out of town with Liu who was silent the whole time. He didn’t even say goodbye. It was going to be a long hike if he continued like this. You wished that Raiden would have just sent you alone. He had the foresight to know that it would be uncomfortable. Then again, you weren’t sure just how much Raiden knew of your complicated history. He was a god, what was he aware of? You didn’t know and you didn’t want to ask. You did kind of want to shake him and cry though.

Liu was infuriating for the rest of the day as if he were making up for being nice the night before. You’d fought about every crossroad. Fought about when to eat. When to sleep. When to take a break. What kind of tree was on the hill. Everything. Every time one of you opened your mouths it was a fight. He couldn’t be blamed for all of the annoying arguments. You were annoyed too and every so often you caught yourself saying things that you hadn’t meant to say in a tone that was far harsher than you’d meant it to be. You supposed one good conversation wouldn’t eliminate two months of snippiness and one wild night of passionate lovemaking gone wrong.

You tried to remind yourself that Raiden had known you were both grieving and had probably hoped that you would work through some of your grief together. You could picture him saying it. But you also could have strangled him by the end of that first day. On the second morning, you’d meditated on it and decided to focus on patience. You would try to listen to Liu Kang’s suggestions and come to an agreement with him rather than argue with him. But that only worked if Liu wasn’t picking a fight with you. Which he was. He was absolutely picking fights with you. Why was beyond you.

By the second night you were out of patience and had no grace left to deal with him. You had agreed upon a path that morning and he was changing it for the fifteenth time that day. You were tired. The more tired you became, the more aggressive he did. His attitude had drained you and so had the hike. So had the fighting. “If we go up this path then we can shave off some time.”

“Or we could get stuck again and end up backtracking for six hours and since you wouldn’t come with me to get supplies, we’ll run out. Then we’ll have to forage and waste even more time. Is it so much to ask that we just stick to the damn plan?” You were snippy again but tried to check your tone by the time you’d finished speaking.

“You can do whatever you want. I’m going this way.”

That was the problem. Your fighting was less like fighting and more him just being stubborn and obnoxious. You threw your bag down and marched in front of him to stop him from walking. That was it. The proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. “What is your problem? What is going on with you?” He was taken aback, surprised by your harsh tone. “I get it, Liu. You’re grieving. But you know what? I’m grieving too and your attitude the last couple of days? It’s absurd. You’re being a child. A petulant brat. Here I thought we’d made some headway and then you double down on being a bastard. You have to argue about every single thing. Every single decision is a fight! Then when I’m right you just don’t listen to me! You march off and do your own thing, which would be fine if you were alone or in charge. But you’re not either of those things.”

“Y/N, I…” He was stiff. Rigid.

“It’s exhausting! You are exhausting me! So, please, enlighten me and tell me why it is that you insist on being this exhausting! Why do you keep belittling me and then going out of your way to make this journey so much harder than it already is? We used to be a good team, I thought. We talked, I thought. You even kind of look at me with a little pity before you just…” You clasped your fists and let out a sound of frustration and then felt the blood pressure in your head as you finally breathed. Oops.

Liu was looking down at you, jaw clenched and you expected him to yell at you and correct you on what you thought like he’d done all those years ago when you’d been sleeping together. Your heart raced again as he looked you over.

“Every time I look at you, I see how hurt you are. How much worse I make it.”

You swore steam was coming out of your ears.

“How the fuck is you being an asshole helping any of that?”

“Maybe it’s easier for me to be mean. To argue with you. Maybe it’s better than watching you suffer for the same reasons I’m suffering on top of losing my best friend. And having to remember that I lost you to him in the first place.”

“Oh, don’t you dare.”

“Then thinking about the other night and…”

“Liu, I swear. Don’t do this shit. Don’t. Just don’t.” You pointed an angry and accusatory finger at him and tapped his chest with each of your next words. “Don’t turn this into that. Don’t.”

“You’re the one who got all high and mighty and asked why. I answered.”

“I came to you.” You had not expected to have this conversation with Liu in the middle of the woods or really ever. “I came to you before I gave him an answer. Don’t you dare make me feel guilty about that. I gave you a chance and you were a complete dick. Like wildly…. A dick!” You stuttered in frustration.

“I was a dick, huh?” He laughed in disbelief, rubbed his hand over his jaw, then walked away from you. He returned and pointed at you and then with a smack of his lips he threw his hand in the air as if to say fuck it. “Kung Lao came to me before you did. So yeah, I was a dick.”

“Excuse me?” You did a double take. What was that supposed to mean? Some of your anger deflated.

“Kung Lao… came to me… before… you… did.” He spoke slowly as though you’d had trouble understanding what he’d said. You could have smacked him right in the mouth. “He was already head over heels for you. How was I supposed to compete with that? Asked me if I was working up to something with you since you hesitated to tell him yes. I was honest… to an extent. Didn’t tell him that we’d already been there and done that for months.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was asking to be slapped. Just the way he chose his words and the bite that he spoke them with. It took every bit of your restraint not to just smack him to shut him up.

“I told him I was attracted to you and I’d been thinking about it. Kung Lao asked me to step aside because he thought he could love you.” Liu deflated a little too. The anger he’d built had petered out. Talking about Kung Lao drained him. You were still mad but also shocked. You were lost between being floored by this revelation and furious with his behavior. “So, I did, Y/N. I stepped aside.”

“And you had to be a real dick about it, huh?”

“Yeah. That’s why I was a dick. I watched that one conversation completely destroy our entire relationship. Our friendship.” Liu shrugged and looked suddenly exhausted. “Kung Lao deserved you more than I did. He was ready to jump in headfirst and I was just… nailing you.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and looked away from you but there was something smug about the way he phrased it. Then it was silent.

Where did you begin. Surprised? Confused? Hurt? Speechless? He’d crushed you. You’d thought that you’d had something tremendous and then he had made you feel cheap and worthless. You hated this conversation. You just wanted to be mad and move on. Accept that this wasn’t working and deal with it civilly. But the reasons it wasn’t working were too complicated. “You really hurt me.” You managed but your voice cracked and betrayed you. You were mad, dammit! Don’t cry, brain! You wanted to stomp off yelling about how he had some nerve dragging this baggage into the middle of a three-day hike, but you didn’t.

“It hurt me too, believe it or not.”

This couldn’t have gone worse. You supposed it actually could have but it felt pretty bad. To find out that it had been a lie after years of repeating it in your head? You were devastated. And you had to let it go. You didn’t know what would have happened if Liu had asked you to stay with him instead of being with Kung Lao and it hurt too much to theorize because that wasn’t what had happened. You loved Kung Lao. Your relationship had been far different than the one you’d had with Liu Kang, but you’d loved him nonetheless.

“I…” You began when you realized he was waiting for you to say something, almost desperately and that he had taken a step closer and invaded your personal space. “I’m sorry.” You were though you weren’t immediately sure what for. You just knew you were sorry. Sorry that you’d brought it up. Sorry that it had come to this. “That it wound up like this. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” Liu looked past you. “You and Kung Lao were happy for a time.”

“And what about you?”

“Does that matter?”

“Of course, it matters. We were friends first. Even when I was with Lao we were eventually close again.”

“Yeah, well, I was pissed at first. Mad at you. Mad at him.” He turned his gaze back to yours and dared to step closer which made you instantly on alert. It was obvious now that this had been on his mind for some time. You hadn’t considered yourself that important. There had been plenty of moments where things between you had been unsaid. You had never known and had no right to his innermost thoughts. That attraction had never burnt out. Even now, you were torn between smacking him and throwing your arms around him. “With time I realized that all I wanted was for you to be happy. You were happy, right?”

That was a probing question and you hated it. You meant to say yes. You had been happy, but instead you hesitated. Had you been? Of course, not all the time and things had been difficult the past few months, but Kung Lao’s memory was one that you would always cherish as having been happy. “Yeah. Yes.”

That had sounded terrible and forced.

Shit.

You walked away from him and sat down next to where you’d set your bag, defeated. Liu stood awkwardly before tapping a finger against his leg as if deciding if he wanted to pursue this conversation or return to the uncooperative mess that he’d been before. He sat next to you, leaving almost no gap between you. You were either going to have to remind him of your personal boundaries or get used to him being close.

“What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything, Liu.”

“You hesitated like… in a really big way. Weren’t you happy?” He was watching you but when you turned to look at him, he turned away.

“I love…” You hadn’t gotten used to the change in tenses yet. It was painful to misspeak. “I loved Kung Lao, but we were in a weird place before this and I… I don’t know what would have happened. I can’t pretend I do. We fought a lot these last few months over stupid things. Over big things. Over nothing.” You teared up but fought it back. You were not going to cry in front of Liu Kang after he had been a complete ass for two days straight. “And then he died, Liu. And finding out was like losing a part of myself. Something I’ll never get back and must learn to live without. I don’t know what would have happened because that chance was stolen from me. And I won’t complain about it. I won’t… because you lost your brother and I lost… a boyfriend and there’s no comparison.” You hesitated on the words, and you hated that you were struggling to breathe out of your nose. “We’d been together for years but…” You drifted off. The guilt was too much. Did he really expect you to air all of your dirty laundry to him? And why were you? He’d been such a dick.

“But what?”

“I don’t want to say.”

“Did you do something bad?”

“That’s relative.”

“I can help be a deciding factor on that if you like.” He half-heartedly joked but even as he did, he groaned in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. Then he rested his hand on your arm. “But what, Y/N?”

“I think I might hate you right now.”

“Don’t deflect.”

“Kung Lao proposed.” You hadn’t told anyone that. There was too much guilt for how it had happened. “Right before I left to run that errand.” Liu Kang shook his head as though you had doused him in cold water. “I told him no, not yet. I turned him down. I told him that we would talk more about it when I got back.” The guilt of turning him down and then having him wind up dead was unbearable. “I will live with that guilt forever. The look on his face when I didn’t jump for joy when he got down on one knee with a ring… oh I’ll never forget it.” You shook the image out of your head. You’d had nightmares about it on repeat. You should have just said yes and pretended it was a dream come true. That would have made him happy.

“I’m…” Liu Kang rubbed his temples then started again. “Why didn’t you say yes?”

“I meant what I said. We weren’t ready. We fought literally all the time. We had no clear vision of what our future looked like. We’d never talked about marriage or families or anything like that. On top of that, we were in a weird place. The tournament was coming and I… commitment makes me kind of itchy, you know? I felt like a villain, Liu. I feel like a villain. He just wanted to love me and tease me and be loved by me. That was it. It wasn’t more complicated than that for him.” You were proud of yourself for not breaking down into a sobbing puddle as you spoke. “And he died not knowing any of the reasons that I told him ‘not yet’. He died before we got to figure it out. That was all I wanted. Was time to figure it out. Time for us to just be and to figure out if it was right for us.”

“And now there’s no time.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t help it. You were going to cry. You closed your eyes and allowed the tears to gather and tried to keep them from falling. Liu was quiet and contemplative next to you. You’d both thrown huge revelations at each other. It was a lot to process.

You felt like a monster.

“You would have married him, huh?” Liu broke the silence, somewhat bravely you thought.

“I have no idea what I would have done because he’s gone and I’m alone.”

“You would have made him a very happy man.”

“Maybe. Even if I had, I don’t know if it would have made me happy and that kills me.”

“Yeah, that’s the tricky part, I guess.” Liu leaned his elbows on his knees. “You would have done it.”

“Bold of you to assume after everything.”

“I know you. You’re a people pleaser, Y/N.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on. You always folded when you and Kung Lao fought. Even with the big stuff, you just rolled over and let him have his way.”

“I am not arguing with you about this again especially not after losing him.” You’d had this fight before. Liu Kang had always tried to keep you from folding and stick to your guns. You had refused to talk to him about the personal stuff with Kung Lao but somehow Liu had always known when you were upset and managed to get it out of you. He’d always been there, you’d realized.

Guilt.

“If I had known it would end the way it did then I never would have once complained. I would have just made him happy for as long as I could.”

“So, what, only he got to be happy? You’re being ridiculous.”

“Liu Kang! I was happy!” You stared at him aghast. You had been happy. Most of your relationship had been incredibly happy. You’d fought and you’d been hurt sometimes, but that was normal.

“Yeah, except you weren’t sure if you were which is why you hesitated, right? That’s the real reason you turned him down.” There was that snippy tone again and you stiffened up as he grabbed your arm to turn you toward him. “At least have the guts to admit it, Y/N. Don’t fool yourself and definitely don’t try to fool me.”

“Fuck you, Liu.” You pulled your arm free.

“Yeah, that was probably part of the problem too, wasn’t it?”

You smacked him across the face and hard, then pulled your hand back to your chest, surprised you’d done it. He rubbed his jaw that immediately turned red and turned his gaze away from you, nodding his head slowly.

“I deserved that.”

You picked up your bag and walked away from him. You didn’t need this. You didn’t need him rubbing your failures and guilt in your face. You didn’t need him taking his complicated feelings and burying you in them. You didn’t need him making you second guess yourself. Kung Lao was dead. You wouldn’t dishonor his memory with this crap.

You weren’t sure how long you marched away for, but it had been long enough. Leaning your head back, you breathed, and fought tears that you knew you should just let out but god dammit, if Liu Kang followed you and found you crying then you would be furious. The last thing you wanted was his comfort right now. Besides, every time you got close like that you ended up naked and you couldn’t emotionally do that right now!

His comfort was double sided with guilt. There was no comfort for you like this. You leaned against a tree and held your bag close and closed your eyes. Sometime later, Liu Kang joined you but he didn’t try to talk to you even if you could feel him watching you. It took ages but you finally fell asleep, angrily holding your bag against your chest.

Next Chapter >>

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 24: Something Was Off- Agent Whiskey

Day 24: Something Was Off - Agent Whiskey 

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader (Apple) 

This prompt was requested by @littlevodika​. Thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy this continuation of the Whiskey/Apple relationship. 

Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff​ @josepedropascal​ 

This is part three, you can read the other two parts below. 

Part 1 (Day 1 Heartbeat)  Part 2 (Day 8 Dot, Dot, Dot) 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 23: Whispers - Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear how much I love you. So please don’t take my sunshine away…” Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels serenades the small bundle in his arms. 

All swaddled in a pink blanket, Magnolia Daniels eyes droop and a small smile graces her sweet little face as she watches her daddy sway to the music. The sounds of his deep velvety voice and his warm chest lull her into sleep. 

Jack places a kiss on her forehead before laying her in the bassinet beside your side of the bed. He crawls back into bed and wraps his long arms around you tucking you back into his chest, and sighing. “Thank you,” he whispers, “that little girl and you are my entire world,” he kisses your head gently before drifting back off to sleep. 

Maggie makes her presence known several hours later when she wakes with the sunshine and begins to fuss. You lift her from the bassinet and pull down your sleep shirt, putting her to your breast to suckle. You close your eyes to get a few more moments of sleep when you feel eyes on you. 

You slowly open to see Jack watching you both with rapt attention. This has always been his favorite part of you becoming parents, he loves to watch his daughter eat. “That is a sight I will never tire of sugar,” he croons at you. 

After you switch and she finishes he eagerly scoops her up and burps her against his shoulder. Dipping down to kiss you sweetly, “you sleep mama, I will make breakfast for us, and then we can get going.” 

You smile and nod watching the former playboy of Statesman babble nonsense to his infant daughter. So much had changed since you found out you were pregnant. Jack had resigned from fieldwork, only working on training new recruits. You had cut back on your hours in the weapons design lab. Both of you in favor of spending more time with your precious girl.  

In the six months since she had been born you both hadn’t left her side but tonight for the first time that was going to change. Uncle Tequila was going to give you both a much needed night out while he watched his goddaughter. 

Tequila had been your best friend since preschool and had even recommended you for the job at Statesman. He was the most supportive friend you could have asked for and loved little Magnolia almost as much as you and Jack. He doted on her endlessly and never failed to show up with some toy or trinket for her from his travels. When Jack had asked him about watching her you were pleasantly surprised and Tequila was ecstatic. 

It took a few days to even prepare for going out with pumping extra milk, but the idea of a few hours alone with Jack was too good to pass up. You drifted back to sleep dreaming of a romantic night out with your boyfriend. 

When you later roused from sleep it was to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and bacon. You shower and get dressed quickly before walking into the living room and sweeping your daughter into your arms. She giggles and holds your cheeks before pulling tightly on your hair. You look up and see Jack with a big smile on his face as he watches his two favorite girls. 

The rest of the day passes uneventfully as you handle the daily chores, nap time, diaper changes, tummy time, and feedings. Jack is always there to help with everything, and before long Uncle Tequila is at the door holding a small wooden maraca. 

“I was in Spain last week and had to get something for my Maggie Moo,” he coos at the little girl whose eyes brighten at her favorite Uncle. 

You kiss him on the cheek, “thank you Tequila for watching her.” 

“Anything for my sweet goddaughter. You’re prettier than a Magnolia in May,” he tickles her gently. 

You run to your room and change into a white sundress with bright yellow sunflowers on it, brown cowgirl boots, and your jean jacket. Coming back out to see Jack dressed in his cowboy boots, dark jeans, maroon button-up, black leather jacket, and trusty black stetson. You take a moment to appreciate the fine broad specimen you had acquired. Damn, he is too sexy, words don’t do him justice. 

“Sweet Jesus sugar, you are the most beautiful woman to grace this earth,” he pulls you close and plants a kiss on your lips. Giggling as he turns toward his daughter, “isn’t your mama beautiful?” he questions kissing her cheeks before giving her to you. You kiss her and hug her close before giving her over to her Uncle. 

“Now you remember, the extra milk is already bottled and in the fridge, and all the important numbers are on the fridge, and we can be reached if you need anything just call ou-” 

“Apple! Go out with Whiskey, I got this.” Tequila pushes you both out the front door locking it behind you. 

“Did we just get kicked out of our own apartment?” you point back towards the door and then at a laughing Jack. 

“It would seem so sugar. Come on,” he grabs your hand, “I have something special planned for tonight.” 

“You’ve been very hush-hush about this night out...what are you planning Jack?” you question. 

Jack only smiles before helping you into the Bronco. You pass through the city lights of downtown Kentucky. The penthouse where you lived was close to Statesman but not exactly where you had imagined raising your children. 

You drive for another thirty minutes before you turn off the highway into a less populated area. Something was off, this didn’t seem like a normal night out with dinner or a movie, you were out in the middle of nowhere. 

You pull into the driveway of a ranch-style house, the nearest neighbor half a mile down the road. You slowly get out the bronco, “Where...where are we, Jack?”

He says nothing only leads you to the door and unlocks it pulling you inside. The house is gorgeous, a mix of farmhouse and craftsman style features. Large vaulted ceilings with wooden beams and cherry hardwood floors. He flicks on a light and in the middle of the floor is a blanket, pillows, and a picnic basket.

He leads you over to the set-up and pulls you down to sit against him as he pours you each a glass of Apple Whiskey a personal favorite of yours. “Jack...this is incredible...but, what is all this?” you gesture to the space around you. 

“Well as of three o’clock yesterday this is our house sugar,” he holds your hand lightly.

“You...you bought us a house?” your eyes brim with unshed tears. 

He nods, before standing to pace the room. “I...I know how much you hate living in the city and Magnolia needs space to run and grow in the great outdoors. The whole property is five acres, with plenty of space for us. There’s even a small apple orchard outback. I...I wanted to make a gesture to tell you how much I love you, and how much I want to be with you.” 

“Oh Jack,” you rise to your feet and pull him down to kiss you. Wrapping your arms around his neck, your forehead resting against his. “I love you so damn much Jack Daniels.” 

“This is one more thing...I bought for the house, I feel like every house deserves a good door mat. Why don’t you go look at the one I picked out.” 

You laugh, “I don’t know how the mat can compete with this house but I am eager to see what you picked out,” you walk over to the door and look down. 

Daniels Family Est. 2021 

The air is knocked out of your lungs and you spin to find Jack behind you on one knee. “Oh my god…” you whisper. 

“Agent Apple, weapons guru of Statesman, mother of my beautiful Magnolia, and the love of my life. I will love and protect you forever with everything that I have darlin’. I want to live in this house with you, have more babies with you, laugh, make love, and grow old with you.” Tears swim in his eyes as he pulls out a small ring box and pops the lid revealing a silver ring with a princess cut emerald surrounded by a circle of diamonds. 

“Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asks. 

“YES!” you shout dropping to your knees and kissing him, “yes, Jack a thousand times, yes!” 

He slides the ring onto your finger, and you admire it. The moment is interrupted by the shrill sound of the cell phone. Jack pulls his out and answers on Facetime. 

“Did you ask yet?! Did she say yes?!” Tequila begs holding up a giggling Magnolia up to the screen. 

You laugh, “YES! I did say yes!” 

“Yahoo! Did ya hear that Maggie Moo your mama and daddy are gonna get married!” she squeals and claps. 

You look up at Jack and smile, this was your family and you couldn’t wait to make him your husband. 

[raendown]

I return from the dead with a fic that isn't even for the Naruto fandom and I don't really have an explanation for myself.

Pairing: SamBucky Word count: 2317 Fandom: MCU Summary: Visiting Steve was always strange now that the guy was old and retired. Still, of all the things Sam expected out of today, witnessing a prime example of gay panic from the co-worker that's been mysteriously avoiding him was not one of them.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info under the header!

Honestly, the fact that Steve's house smelled like prunes was probably one of the funniest things that Sam had ever heard in his life. More than anything he would have loved to go back in time, to the days of reading about glorified heroes in history textbooks, and tell his fifteen year old self that Captain America, Steve Rogers, retired in a house that smelled like prunes. God, his best friend just had to throw himself in to being old the way he threw himself in to everything else.

"Is there a special reason for you visiting?" Steve's voice was more tremulous these days, less steady but no less warm. Just hearing him again after the shameful amount of weeks it had been since his last visit made Sam grin.

"Nah, just thought I'd pop in and see if you'd expired yet. Your birthday's coming up. Gonna be, what, three hundred? A thousand?"

Steve narrowed his eyes but there was fondness in them so it wasn't very scary even if he could probably still tackle Sam across the room if he wanted to. At this point it would hurt him too but he could do it. "You, young man, are-"

He looked chagrined at himself when Sam cut him off with a laugh.

"You shitting me? Did you really just call me young man? See if I ever let you live that down."

His friend grumbled but accepted the teasing as his due. That was just what he got for going back in time and doubling down on being so much older than his own best friends.

Since it had indeed been a little too long after they last saw each other there was quite a bit of catching up for them to do. Over cool glasses of sweet tea and a plate of cookies the two of them spent a pleasant couple of hours shooting the shit until Sam could almost forget the years that stretched between them now. It was jarring, sometimes, looking away from those clear blue eyes to realize all over again just how many wrinkles they were set in. Sometimes he hated it. Other times he could only smile to know that at least one of their ragtag bunch had found the peace they were looking for.

Eventually all that sweet tea went right to his bladder and Sam excused himself to use the bathroom. When he returned he took in the sight of his friend all snug under one of the blankets his late wife had knit and sighed, feeling maudlin suddenly for no good reason.

"I should probably get out of your hair," he said. "Let you get in your afternoon nap or whatever. No, stay there man, I'll clean up." His smile was easy as he snagged the dishes from their grazing and hauled it all over to the kitchen.

"You sure?" Steve's voice floated after him. "Nothing else you want to get off your chest?"

"Huh?"

Sam frowned at the cups he'd just placed in the sink, running back through his mind. They'd talked about pretty much everything he could think of.

"You didn't mention Buck once, you know. I thought the two of you were friends now."

"Ah. Yeah. So did I." The corners of his mouth twisted with a little bitterness, a little confusion. After everything they'd been through and the number of times Bucky had accepted his invitations down to Delacroix he'd thought they were well past the point of calling themselves friends. Maybe he himself felt something a little more than that but he knew better than to push.

That was probably why Bucky's sudden radio silence hurt so much though.

"Trouble in paradise?" Steve called from the other room and Sam snorted.

“Shit, I don’t know. One minute we’re fine and the next he just up and disappears on me again. I may or may not have checked a bunch of obituaries for your name just in case because I have no idea what I might have done to piss him off.” Sam pursed his lips. He’s already gone over all this with Sarah a half dozen times and in all the recounts he’d done of their last couple missions he still couldn’t find any particularly bad moment between him and his best friend. Unfortunately the sweet tea he was glaring at didn’t have any answers either so he snatched the pitcher up and moved to put it in the fridge.

“Have you tried, oh I don’t know, asking him what’s wrong?”

“You think I didn’t try that?”

Steve’s hum drifted down the hallway with a distinct note of sass. “Neither one of you is very famous for your communication.”

“Excuse you, I was a counselor. A certified veteran’s counselor. Communicating with people was literally my job until your overly buff ass came running around all ‘on your left’ and ‘everyone I know is trying to kill me’.” Sam huffed as he snapped the fridge closed. “I damn well tried to talk to him but he’s not answering my texts or my calls. Short of breaking in to his apartment I don’t really know what else you want me to do.”

Without any other excuses to keep him in the kitchen Sam heaved a sigh, knowing he couldn’t dawdle any longer. He could only get to the door by going though the living room so his choices were either run away out the back, which he would never ever hear the end of, or go back in to the living room and face Steve with his stupidly wise and knowing eyes. Seriously, let a guy live to almost two hundred and suddenly he thought he knew everything. Annoying was what it was.

He was only halfway down the hall when he heard the front door open. Sam very carefully swallowed down the jibe he’d just been about to deliver and hoped that meant what he thought it meant. Maybe Steve had finally gone vague after all and bailed in the middle of their conversation; he’d rather chase a crazy old coot down the street than talk about his feelings regarding one James Buchanan Barnes. Actually if he looked at it from the right angle then chasing an old coot down the street was pretty much his job description whenever he and his partner teamed up on missions. Sam was just glad they hadn’t been called in to one since this whole silent treatment had started because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know whether or not Bucky would still have his back even when the guy was mad at him over reasons unknown.

Two more steps and Sam froze in his tracks, eyes wide with disbelief. Bucky’s shoulders were hunched in to himself with something bridling on panic as he fit himself through the front door and kicked it shut behind himself, eyes wild and fixed on the ground between his feet, nervous energy pouring out of him in a way Sam hadn’t seen before. From his spot on the couch Steve watched his childhood friend let himself in with serene indifference.

“Didn’t know you’d be over today,” was all he said. Then he smiled benignly when Bucky let out a soft whine.

“Help,” Bucky pleaded. “I’m dying.”

Then Bucky slid down to his knees and face planted in the carpet, arms and legs splaying out wide. Steve hummed.

“You know,” he murmured, “no one ever believes me when I tell them you’re this dramatic.”

“Steve! I’m having a crisis!”

“I tell everyone you’re a drama queen and they just shake their heads at me.”

“This is important! You have to kill me, Steve. Or I’m gonna just- just-!” Bucky’s voice petered out with another extended whine muffled by the carpet that probably didn’t smell any better from that close up.

Crossing one leg over the other, Steve folded his hands in his lap with a great lack of concern for the ridiculous scene playing out before him. Sam remained frozen in the hallway, wondering if Bucky even realized he was there, but he got an answer to that almost faster than if he’d bothered to ask himself.

“What’s wrong, pal?”

“It’s Sam!” Bucky cried. His arms lifted up like wings to flail briefly before falling back to the floor in a boneless sprawl. “Please just crush my head or something. I can’t take this.”

“Ah, yes, I hear you’ve been avoiding him.”

Whatever kind of noise Bucky was trying to make, it came out sounding more like he was choking on carpet fumes. “Of course I’m avoiding him!”

“Now why on earth would you do that?”

“I want to stick my tongue in the gap between his teeth!” Bucky said, entirely unaware of the sparks that were suddenly running up Sam’s spine in the hallway. “Help me, Steve! I want to press my thumb in the little dimple on his back. He has a dimple on his back! Why!? Steve I want to hold his hand! What the fuck!”

Steve had both eyebrows up near his hairline and the most shit eating grin any human on the planet had ever worn when he turned his head to look at Sam. Frozen with his eyes on the figure currently panicking in to the floor, Sam paid him no attention. He was busy processing. After getting to know Bucky, inviting him to stay in Delacroix time and time again, the dramatics weren’t actually that much of a surprise. Obviously as they grew closer he’d gotten a number of glimpses in to who the real Bucky Barnes was under the grouchy veneer he presented to the world. Watching him starfish on the ground and whine wasn’t too far from what he’d already seen.

Hearing him say anything about his tongue in conjecture with Sam’s teeth, on the other hand, now that was a bit unexpected. More than a bit.

“I think Shuri called this ‘gay panic’ and honestly I’m in agreement,” Bucky went on mindlessly. “If I have to watch him go through one more workout and not grab his ass with both hands then I’m just going to rip both of them off. Who needs hands if I cannot grab Sam Wilson’s ass with them!?”

“You may be slightly exaggerating the situation, I feel,” Steve told him.

Bucky snorted. “I am not. I absolutely am not. Why is he so hot? And nice? I hate that. Except I don’t. Steve why is he so nice to me?”

“That might be a question you should ask him.”

“Oh yeah, sure, I’ve got lots of questions for him! Hey Sam, why are you nice to me? Hey Sam, can I lick your cheekbones? Hey Sam, how big is your cock?”

“Well. Not that I’ve ever thought to ask that myself but, alright. Go on, Sam, how big is it?”

Sam had just enough time to cross his arms over his chest and assume a very casual pose leaning against the wall beside him before Bucky’s head shot up off the carpet. If possible, his eyes were even more wild than before when he fixed them on Steve, full of the deepest betrayal. Then he very slowly dragged them sideways to see the man he’d just been panicking over. Sam gave him a very friendly smile.

“Depends on your frame of reference,” he admitted. “I’d say sizeable.”

“Nnnggggg.”

“Hi Buck.”

“Ggnnn.”

While Steve very poorly disguised a laugh behind one hand, Sam pushed off from the wall and sauntered further in to the living room. Bucky slammed his face back in to the carpet.

“Leave me here to die,” he pleaded in a very small voice. Sam tutted, reaching for the front door, only looking over his shoulder once he was halfway through it.

“Come on, Buck, can’t lick my cheekbones if you don’t get off the floor. It was a nice visit, Steve, but don’t be looking out your front curtains for a bit. I think I’ll let Bucky decide for himself what sizeable means.” He thanked god for the mercy of Steve’s house being situated out here so far from any other homes, surrounded on all sides by enough trees that you couldn’t see it from the road. A gorgeous little island of privacy. Sam was fairly sure he wasn’t the only one grateful for this, judging by the mad scrambling noises he could hear going on behind him.

Bucky’s voice garbled out something that sounded like ‘fuck you, thank you, bye forever’ and then Sam was listening to the slam of the front door barely a second before strong hands were wrapping themselves around his hips. He laughed even as Bucky’s face came in to view.

“Greatest assassin of several generations and you didn't notice my truck in the driveway?” he said.

“I may have been a bit distracted.” That was definitely a pout on Bucky’s lips.

“By being so hot for all of this”-Sam gestured vaguely down his own body-“that you literally ceased being able to function.”

He didn’t expect such easy agreement as the sheepish nod that followed his words. “Pretty much.”

Sam blinked slowly once, twice. For one long moment he considered teasing the man. Then he decided that their time was much better spent doing things they’d both obviously been wanting to do while assuming they would never get the chance.

“I was promised a tongue in my teeth. Are you gonna get to that any time soon or am I gonna sit here and pine some more for something I apparently could have had all along?”

Bucky keened piteously. Then he surged forward to follow through on his own promises and Sam really hoped that Steve had taken his words to heart about the curtains. The man was way too old to be seeing all the ways they were about to defile the side of this truck.

[riddlegecko]

Would you perhaps be interested in writing a Between the Lines ficlet with some Paulkins fluff (established relationship)??

Perhaps I would! This takes place in an in-between point in the story, where Emma's back in Clivesdale, and she and Paul are long-distance. This kinda ended up being a bit more fluff and angst than I intended, whoopsie.

"It was that long!?"

"Yeah, I had so much to say about how bad it was, that the review ended up being nearly fifty pages long!"

"Jesus Christ, Paul!"

It had been about a month since Emma returned to Clivesdale from Arrowhead- after that awful blizzard had shut down the airport for three whole weeks, and her relationship with Paul was still going strong. It was odd, how fast their relationship had progressed during that extended visit to Colorado, the tension between them having boiled over into what she thought would be a one-night stand not too long into her stay at Paul's home. But things kept escalating, and now they were essentially a couple. Even now, as Emma was back in her dinky little apartment in Clivesdale, they were chatting away on what was now a three hour video call.

Right now, they were talking about work. Not Emma's job as a freelance artist, or Paul's work on his book. No, they were just talking about their day jobs. Paul's as a movie reviewer for the local Arrowhead paper, and Emma's as a cashier at a shitty little garden supply shop across the street from where she lived. Paul was in the midst of a story of how he was tasked with reviewing some new trashy sex comedy, and ended up hating it so much that a simple paragraph just would not suffice. That was something Emma had grown to love about Paul, whether he loved or hated a movie, you'd be hearing about it in great detail.

"Listen, if you had seen the movie, you'd understand where I'm coming from!" Paul argued over Emma's amused laughter. "It was so bad!"

"I don't doubt that!" Emma snickered, shaking her head. She took a moment to straighten her posture in her desk chair. "I've seen the trailers, it looked like a trash fire. But fifty pages?"

"That's almost word-for-word what my boss said when I turned in the first draft!" Paul said, earning another bout of laughter out of Emma. She managed to catch a glimpse of Paul's face on her screen as she laughed, he was wearing that dorky, endearing smile of his that lit up his whole face. Once she calmed down, he continued on. "So, how have things been at Duncan's since you returned home?"

Emma shrugged. "Eh, business as usual," she replied. "Selling fertilizer and ugly-as-sin, overpriced garden gnomes, can't really complain."

"Hm," Paul hummed with a nod. "How about on the art side of things? Get any good commissions lately?"

With a grumble, Emma shook her head, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the desk. "God, I wish," she answered. "I haven't gotten any work emails since I got back!"

"Well, once I get this damn book published, you're getting thirty percent of the earnings," Paul reminded her with a playful wink. "Not to mention, you got that big pay day from whats-his-face here in Arrowhead!"

Emma nodded. "Yeah, Mac Johnson."

Truth be told, Paul wasn't the only reason she'd gone to Arrowhead. If he'd been the only one to commission her, she could've easily done his illustrations from home. But on the very same day Paul had sent her that first email, she gotten another one fron the same town! Some dude named Mac Johnson wanted her to come down to Arrowhead and paint a mural on the side of the rehearsal hall of his theater. He was a... strange man, but Emma had gotten three-thousand dollars for her work! Not to mention, she would've never met Paul in person if it wasn't for him.

"Right, Mac Johnson," Paul mused. "Have you heard anything else from him, by the way?"

"Last week he sent me a picture of the cast of the Arrowhead Playhouse's upcoming production of Rent posing by the mural," Emma recalled. "But that's about it."

Paul simply nodded with another hum. A thought that had been nagging at Emma since she received that picture emerged in her head once more. She didn't know what compelled her to share it, but she soon found herself talking again.

"It's too bad I had to leave so soon," she said, catching Paul's attention. "I would've liked to see that production."

"Really?" Paul inquired.

"Mhm," Emma replied. "I was really into Rent in high school, but I never got to see a production of it anywhere. My dad thought it was too scandalous, or whatever. I wouldn't've minded seeing the show in Arrowhead."

With a muttered "hang on a second" under his breath, Paul began typing on his keyboard, presumably in a separate tab. He hummed as his eyes scanned over the screen, but not in a tuneless sort of way. No, the way he was humming now... it almost sounded like "I'll Cover You", one of the songs from Rent. After a moment, he began to murmur something.

"February 4th to the 9th..." he said.

Emma's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Paul, are you looking up showtimes for the production?" she asked, befuddled. Paul nodded in reply, a small smile gracing his features. "Why? I don't really have the funds to fly back to Colorado and see a mediocre community theater show right now..."

Paul chuckled. "I know that," he said. "I'm looking for me."

Emma stopped to consider that. "How come?" she questioned. "I thought you hated musicals."

"Oh, I do," Paul confirmed without missing a beat. "But if it's something you enjoyed once, then I wanna check it out."

A beat. Emma felt her heart flutter in her chest at the sincerity in his tone. "Y-you don't have to do that..." she stammered, fighting back a dumb, smitten little grin.

A teasing glint appeared in Paul's strikingly blue eyes. "But I want to," he said. "Even if it means sitting through something I ultimately end up disliking, we'll at least have one more thing to talk about!"

For some reason, that same longing feeling that Emma would get when she first started crushing on Paul re-emerged inside her. The fact that he wanted to sit through something he knew he wasn't going to like, all in the name of experiencing something Emma had once enjoyed... God, it was times like these where she remembered why that time spent in Arrowhead with him was so wonderful. Why Paul was so wonderful.

His patience and understanding, his dry sense of humor, his stupid adorable smile, the loving way he looked at her, how he'd hold her and run his fingers through her hair...

"Emma?" Paul suddenly piped up in concern. "Are you okay?"

Emma blinked in surprise, realizing her eyes had been welling up. A warm flush washed over her face. Why did emotions have to be so embarrassing?

"It, um... It's nothing," Emma sputtered sheepishly, blinking the tears back. "It's just, uh... I miss you, Paul. Like... a lot..."

A sad, sympathetic smile crossed Paul's face. "I miss you too, Em." he admitted.

"I mean, fuck, I hate it here," Emma vented, feeling her emotions take over. "Like, I've told you already, I fucking hate Clivesdale."

Paul nodded, and perhaps Emma was imagining things, but she could've sworn she saw a very familiar spark in his eyes. The kind of look a fellow Hatchetfield local would get when someone would mention Clivesdale, before replying with a resounding "Fuck Clivesdale!". But before Emma could question if her tear-blurred eyes were playing tricks on her, Paul piped up again.

"Well, maybe one day..." he began, his voice brimming with that doting gentleness that made Emma's heart melt every time. "You can come back and visit soon."

Emma sniffled, hoping he hadn't noticed that a tear had just rolled down her cheek. "I sure as shit hope so," she huffed, hating how emotional she had just gotten on a damn video call over a conversation about community theatre of all things. She sniffed again, roughly wiping a hand over her cheek. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me..."

"Hey, it's okay, Em, I understand," Paul assured her gently. "I know how you feel."

Emma nodded, recalling a long, late-night conversation they'd had back in Arrowhead about their lives. How lonely they had been before meeting each other. Paul had recently started taking steps to improve in that regard, even happily telling Emma a few weeks back that he'd started seeing a therapist whose number he'd been holding onto for nearly four years. But Emma... Emma just didn't know what to do. She was in a town she hated, surrounded by people she hated, her only family dead in a freak accident, and the person she loved was on the other side of the country. She had only been in Arrowhead for a month, and it already felt more like home than Clivesdale ever had.

She didn't know if she could ever truly be happy living in Clivesdale.

When Emma didn't respond, Paul spoke up again. "Emma?" he said, catching her attention. "It's going to be okay. Okay?"

Emma smiled despite herself at the gentle earnestness in his tone. "Okay," she said, nodding. "I love you, Paul."

Paul appeared slightly taken aback, clearly still not used to hearing that from her. Nonetheless, he smiled back. "I love you too, Emma."