#you’ll not like the person I am when this season starts sorry in advanced

[samcoving]

I’m sorry!! Short hair Carol, crossbow, trying to find Daryl,riding Daryl’s bike, possibly blowing shit up along with“to find home is to find each other”🏹💀🖤

[shuahoonie]

out of love [tom holland]

PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader 

SUMMARY: being close friends with your ex is fine, right? even if your love for them was unparalleled among others. even if you were still in the process of moving on from them. even if you know they’re happy with someone else. even if you have no clue whether they loved you like you loved them. 

WARNINGS: foul language, so much angst, it starts ok at first then goes downhill from there. i literally write things on the go so i don’t know if this will have fluff at some point 

(if it does and i didn’t state it here, send me a cute photo of tom and a message of: ok wow she pulled thru 🤪; and if it doesn’t have fluff, send me a meme and a message of: miss girl i simply cannot today ✋😃)  

WORD COUNT: 5.6k 

A/N: hello! tonight, we are going to be sad!!! i know i usually like to write about all things fluff, but this?? this is just for me because i am having one of those episodes. i just need to feel something again aside from the stress of writing 3 academic papers per week lmao. i’m def not expecting people to like this type of vibe but yannoe. i apologize in advance. 

this is inspired by that one episode from new girl (season 6 x ep 16)

gif credits: @thollandgifs​ 

vanessa’s masterlist | taglist form | part two - pandemonium ​​

“You know, you can still live with us right?” Your friend Maia commented as she placed the box, labelled “fine china that mom gave me but will i ever use them?”, on the kitchen island. 

“I know,” You murmured dropping the heavy case of pots and pans on the floor. “But maybe living alone will be good for me.” You replied, forcing a smile. “Besides, I don’t want to int—“

“Hey, Y/N, where do you want this?” Harrison asked as he held out a box that’s labelled with “books that my grandpa passed on. HANDLE WITH CARE!” 

“Oh, just set it down on the living room—“ before you could even finish, Harrison dropped the box on the floor as if it was nothing. “Harrison!” You hissed, as you quickly rushed to check on the box. 

“Y/N, babe, they’re just books. Surely they can withstand any amount of pressure, yeah?” Haz tried to reassure you. 

“Haz, those books are from my grandpa—which I’m sure he got from his grandpa.” You sighed. “They’re really old and fragile, so I just want them to be in a well enough condition to stand in my bookcase.” 

“‘m sorry,” He murmured, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s just, why do you have to move out?” Harrison asked, frustrated at the whole thing. 

“Like I told Maia, maybe having my own place will be good for me.” You replied calmly, as you neatly put the box filled with your grandpa’s books in the corner room—the initial place where you want to build your bookcase. “It’s been a while since I’ve lived on my own.” 

“Yeah,” Harrison acknowledged “But there’s absolutely no reason for you to move out. You can’t possibly leave me with her!” He pointed at Maia who let out an audible gasp. Harrison was being dramatic of course.  

“Haz—“ You were trying to fight off a laugh. “You two are my constants and if I became dependant on having you two at my convenience, it’s going to be a huge problem.” 

“In my opinion, I don’t see it as a problem.” Maia pointed out childishly. You shook your head in disbelief. You had to move out because you miss having a place to yourself— a place where you can be at your complete worst and you don’t have to think about your friends worrying about you. 

Besides, moving out means you don’t have to see Tom that often and that was a bonus in your book. It wasn’t a sour breakup per se, it’s just really difficult to feel happy for your ex when he practically showcases how different he is now with his girlfriend. 

You prided yourself as a mature and well-rounded person who could be complete friends with her ex as if that’s normal. You could only keep the façade for so long. 

Four months. It’s been four months since you and Tom broke up. You lived with Maia soon after the breakup and that enough was a blessing. Maia couldn’t bear to handle the fact that you would be alone at a time like this. Harrison usually crashes at Maia’s so he was bound to move in with you two. In fact, he was always there more often than you. 

That was the point where you were convinced that Harrison liked Maia and that Maia liked Harrison.

Conveniently, you and Tom never ‘officially’ moved in together so you could avoid him freely at all costs.

Of course, that was eventually going to end soon. You and Tom were in the same friend group so you were bound to see each other, much to your dismay. You couldn’t exactly make Harrison and Maia pick friends because it’s not fair for anyone. 

You were all friends before you and Tom decided to date. Maybe that’s why people say to never date a friend—especially if they’re near and dear. 

You were coming back from work when you found people in the living room, and as if the universe really wanted to test you, it was the least likely people you’d expect to see. 

“Y/N!” Maia’s voice was pure panic. “I didn’t know you’d be home this early.” 

Your eyes quickly flickered between the two people standing across you before you diverted your attention to Maia. “Uh—yeah. There wasn’t really much to do in the office so I came home early.” 

Maia turned to Harrison who was equally lost on how to handle the situation. I mean, who wouldn’t?! What were you supposed to do when your friend drops in unannounced with their new girlfriend and to makes the matters worse, your other friend—whom your friend dated before— decides to come home early? 

You didn’t know how what kind of spirit took over your body that prompted you to extend your hand to the girl sitting beside your ex and say: “Hello, I’m Y/N.” 

The girl looked surprised but shook your hand in return. “Nadine,” Nadine smiled slyly “I—um, I’m Tom’s girlfriend.” 

Tom looked mildly uncomfortable but you chose to ignore it. You were becoming good at that—ignoring Tom. 

You returned the smile at Nadine. You could feel the burning stares from your friends, mostly Maia. You cleared your throat and said, “I’ll just be in my room to finish the papers I need to send to my editor if you’ll excuse me.” 

Before you left completely, you gave Nadine another smile and said, “It’s nice to meet you again, Nadine.”

You don’t remember how you got to your room but that was the least of your concern. You were just undeniably overwhelmed with what just happened that you didn’t even notice that there was a knock on your door. 

When you opened the door, it was the last person you expected to see standing in your doorframe. 

“Can we talk?” Tom asked in almost a whisper. 

You gave him a half shrug and opened the door slightly wider for him. 

“We’re okay, right?” He asked, looking at you in the eye. 

At this point, you convinced yourself that you were numb. You never talked about the breakup. You never overtly said anything about what you felt. You felt empty. You convinced yourself that you were empty. 

You stared back at Tom and without missing a beat, you replied “Of course. Why shouldn’t we?” 

“Just admit that you two will miss me,” You teased, grabbing another box from Maia. 

“Only if you admit that you’re moving out for an entirely different reason,” Maia whispered carefully as her eyes flickered towards Tom who was also helping with your move out. 

You pressed your lips together and acted like he wasn’t even there. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said, you know, like a liar. 

You weren’t a vocal person. The idea of talking about your feelings was really difficult for you so you try your best to avoid it. Actually, it’s worse than that. You’d go to extreme lengths to avoid confrontation.

Obviously, it wasn’t healthy. You would always distance yourself whenever you feel emotionally exhausted, and you really meant that distance. It wasn’t bad at first—maybe a day or two was all you needed before you felt comfortable enough to be around people again. 

Then it became worse when you were in university. You were beyond unreachable. Aside from being emotionally exhausted, you were mentally drained too. You were always buried with papers and readings which was unavoidable but it took a huge toll on you. So whenever you get a chance to get a break, you completely shut off from people. 

Your friends definitely noticed it and they tried their best to help. 

Tom was among the people who definitely went out of their way to help you. He would always drop by at your dorm with food or coffee—he would literally just drop them off, most of the time. He would leave small notes that up to this day, you still kept and tucked away in a box. 

Both Maia and Harrison followed Tom’s approach. They would all alternate on who’s dropping what and when. Some days, Maia would drop off a new skincare product she’s been using or a lovely box of macarons from your favourite patisserie. 

On other days, Harrison would drop off some of his home-cooked meals or maybe a book he saw from a local bookstore—a book that reminded him of you.

Tom was very persistent though. He would sometimes wait out on the hall, just so he could see you and reassure himself (and your friends) that you were okay. 

You found it taxing at first—you would often try your best to match the energy from your friends, which only left you exhausted at the end of the day. You wanted space and you clearly weren’t getting that from Tom. You did acknowledge that he only did it out of pure concern. 

You often wondered why he did that, staying, but you didn’t ask him. You never did.

Maybe you were afraid that you’d come off as rude or that you’d seem ungrateful for dismissing someone when they’ve clearly taken the time off their day just to check on you. 

However, every time you’d open that door, it always seemed that Tom would breathe a huge sigh of relief when you lock eyes. Even if it was just for a quick second. You wondered about that too.

Tom wasn’t really being intrusive. Most of the time, he will leave a few minutes after you’d open the door to get the things your friends would drop off. You’d always ask him if he wants to stay inside for a bit, but he’d always decline.

Except for that one time, though. That one time that you knew you were going to fall in love.

It was the week of midterms and deadlines. You were knee-deep with papers from different classes that demanded to be finished that week, one of which was a research paper that practically tied you to your laptop and made you consume an unhealthy amount of caffeine. 

It wasn’t until 2 am when you were about to go on a quick drive to a McDonald’s but saw Tom dozed off in the hallway, his back pressed against the wall.

“Tom,” You shook him gently, trying not to startle him. “Tom, wake up.”

His eyes slowly fluttered open, seemingly disoriented at first but would soon fall into the warm familiarity that your face always brings. 

“Why are you sleeping in the hall?” You asked quietly, careful not to make a fuss. The walls in your dorm were very thin and you learned that the hard way. You’d think they’d put a disclaimer about that in the lease when you’re housing a bunch of university students with raging sex drives. 

It took Tom a minute to fully comprehend the question, seeing that the bright fluorescent light was being harsh on him and that he’s generally like that when being jolted awake. 

“Oh, erm, I—” Tom was finding the right words to use. He can’t exactly exclaim ‘I’ve been worried sick about you!’ out of nowhere. Instead he said, “I was waiting for you to open the door, just to see if you’re alright.” 

“All night?”

Tom scratched the back of his neck. “It seemed that way, yeah.” He muttered sheepishly. 

You were dumbfounded. Surely this was the first time someone actually fell asleep outside your door, waiting for you to come out. It was sweet but highly unnecessary. 

“I was just about to head out and get some McDonald’s, do you wanna come with?” You asked, giving him a hand to hoist himself up. 

“I should get going—“ 

“Have you eaten yet?” You asked cutting him off, taking Tom by surprise. He shook his head no. “Then you should really come.” You said, jingling your car keys in front of him.

Tom was debating whether or not to go with you. It’s been a while since you hung out, but that was the same case for everyone. None of your friends have properly hung out with you ever since the semester started. 

Tom should say yes, right? 

“Let’s go, Tommy,” You said as you grabbed his hand and dragged him across the hall. “I’ve been staring at my laptop all day and I really need some unhealthy food to balance out the concerning amount of caffeine I’ve consumed.” 

“Is that why you’re practically bouncing off the walls?” Tom asked amused, trying to keep up with your pace with your hand holding his. 

“Totally,” You grinned at him. “I need to wear out the caffeine or else, I’d have to skip my morning class again.” 

“French?” 

You nodded. “They’re counting the amount of absences in that class and I really need to keep my shit together.” 

“‘m not exactly sure why you took that as an elective,” Tom commented, properly wrapping his hand around yours with fingers interlacing each other.  

You tried to ignore it, you really did, but the warm feeling that settled around your stomach drove you crazy. 

“Why not? I think it’s cool to learn another language.” You nudged him playfully which he gladly returned. 

“I know and trust me, I’m in awe that you’re learning another language! erm—I guess it’s just I feel like you’re overworking yourself too much.” Tom pointed out softly, hoping he didn’t come off as rude or intrusive. 

“Eh, I don’t mind.” You replied “It’s what drives me to keep going and for me that’s more than enough. Even if it leaves me little to no sleep, even if it takes too much of my time—it’s enough reason for me to do it.” 

Tom stared at you in admiration as soon as those words slipped out your mouth and you didn’t even notice it. You were walking towards the student parking lot, consumed by the twinkling lights from the neighbouring lanes near campus. 

Maybe if you weren’t busy consuming the quiet campus grounds, you’d notice the very first time Tom fell in love with you. 

“Besides, I know a phrase in french now.”

“Hm—and what’s that, then?” 

“Je ne suis pas l’escargot” 

“L’escargot? Isn’t that—“ 

“I am not a snail,” You giggled. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

Tom laughed, “I supposed so.” 

Maybe if you weren’t so afraid of confrontation, you’d have an idea of when Tom knew that you were his person.

See, the thing is— you needed to face reality sooner or later and both your friends could see right through it. 

“Honestly, Y/N, how on earth can your box of art materials be this heavy—” Tom appeared in front of the door frame, heaving as he carried the box from two flights of stairs. 

You quickly averted your gaze from Maia, who was staring at you expectantly, and cleared your throat. “You can just set them by the door, Tom. I don’t know where to put them yet.” You said as you tried your best to act normal. 

“You sure? They’re a tad heavy and I don’t want you to strain yourself.” Tom asked with furrowed brows. 

All you could do was nod. The last thing you wanted was Tom’s focused attention on you.

“If you say so,” Tom sighed in defeat “I’m going to grab more boxes—Baby, you don’t have to carry that!” Tom was quick to disappear as he urgently dashed towards his girlfriend, Nadine. 

“Oh, but I want to help, Tommy.” You heard Nadine say sweetly, assuming she was also pouting. 

You could see Maia roll her eyes, urging you to give her a nudge and a taunting look. “Maia,” you called her out, silently pleading her to stop. 

Maia settled down but she wasn’t exactly calm about it either. “I’m still not sure why she’s here.” She murmured. You and Harrison were close enough that you can hear her rambles—which was expected from her anyway. 

Maia and Nadine go way back—like toddlers and playgrounds kind of way. Though that sounds figuratively adorable in a way, Maia and Nadine never got along. 

Nadine used to date Maia’s brother, which already caused Maia a great demise. As one could expect, the relationship didn’t end well. She left him out of nowhere, saying she needs to find herself—or something along those lines. 

A week after the breakup, what Nadine found was herself in the arms of another man. Of course, Maia���s brother was devastated—He truly loved Nadine. Maia had to be the pillar that her brother leaned on. It took Maia a great amount of time to help her brother pick up the pieces that Nadine left. 

So yeah—Maia wasn’t thrilled when she heard that Tom was Nadine’s new boyfriend. 

“She offered to help, Mai,” You whispered “Who am I to deny help?” 

Maia looked at you as if you managed to empty your head while you were moving in between flats. “She’s been after me ever since we were kids. She’s also the reason why it took my brother months to get out of bed,” Maia deadpanned “and She’s Tom’s new girlfriend. Remember Tom? Your ex?” She said rather loudly.

You gave her a tiny pinch on her arm, causing her to yelp. “Maia, are you nuts?!”

Harrison left the two of you so he could grab more boxes, while you and Maia bickered silently amongst each other. 

“You are thicker than I thought—Seriously, Y/N. Quit pinching me!” Maia aggressively rubbed her arm. 

“They’re going to hear you!” You hissed. “The last thing I want is for those two to get involved.” 

“Babe, they’re already involved. Tom, especially.” Maia remarked. “I see the way you look at Tom. I also see the pain you feel whenever he’s with she who must not be named.” 

“I’m not doing this Maia,” you mumbled as you walked past her. Your objective was now to help Harrison with the remaining boxes. Your objective was anything but to talk about you and Tom. 

“You have to face it sooner or later, Y/N.” Maia called out “I’m not leaving you or this apartment until you tell me what really happened.” 

“What’s going on?” Harrison asked as he entered the apartment, carrying three sets of boxes. You grabbed one from him and actively avoided his question. 

Before Maia could reply, Tom and Nadine appeared on the doorframe, with Nadine practically glued to Tom. 

“Harrison got the last remaining boxes so we’re heading off now,” Tom announced as Nadine’s face painted with clear desperation to get out of your place. “Are we still going bowling tonight?” Tom asked before Nadine whispered something in Tom’s ear and left.

“I’m actually exhausted so I’ll pass,” You answered, obviously avoiding spending time with your ex and his current girlfriend. You’re not that pathetic. 

“Same might actually have to just drink the night away,” Maia responded with a grin.

“Well, there’s no way I’m third-wheeling so I’m good,” Harrison said as he threw himself towards the plush teal couch that you snagged from a flea market. 

For the tiniest second, Tom seemed disappointed but gave a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, maybe we can reschedule our bowling night, then?” He asked. “It’s not as fun to go bowling with just the two people.” 

You, Harrison, and Maia all shared a look. You weren’t on board with bowling-night, to begin with, but you didn’t want Tom to feel as if you were avoiding him—which you were but no one needs to know that. 

Maia looked at you, waiting for an answer because god knows she will solely depend on her decision based on yours. You don’t even have an answer, to begin with. 

“What are you two supposed to do then?” Harrison asked Tom. Thank god for Harrison.

“I might take Nadine to this poetry jam event that she’s been dying to go to” Tom replied with a soft voice. 

“A poetry night?” Maia almost wanted to laugh “You don’t even have the slightest interest in literature, Tom.” Maia didn’t mean to offend him or maybe she did? She wasn’t completely fond of Tom ever since you and Tom broke up—well, she wasn’t fond of the idea that Tom was dating her ‘arch nemesis’, but Tom was her friend and so were you. 

“I know that, Mai.” Tom rolled his eyes “but Nadine likes it and I’ll do everything to make her happy.” That left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“If you say so,” Maia murmured before she took a quick look at you. She looked like she wants to give you the biggest hug. But you held a stoic look on your face—something that you picked up because you were afraid of confrontation. 

“I’m serious,” Tom defended, lost in his feelings, which only irked Maia even more. 

“I know, I heard you— we heard you,” Maia replied, her face showing only one emotion: annoyed. “God, read the room,” Maia grumbled to herself. Harrison had to reach for her hand, urging her to calm down. 

“I really love her,” Tom whispered. That left a slap in the face. 

It was a cold Saturday afternoon and it has been raining almost all day. It was one of the rare weekends that you weren’t really occupied to do anything other than to lay on your couch and consume a copious amount of entertainment.

Despite the spitting rain, you actually want to head out this time. Being confined to your desk and the university was torture especially since you couldn’t do anything about it—the four of you were graduating this year, no one could afford to slack off. 

You and Tom were cuddled against the sofa— Tom was busy watching something on TV while you were busy scrolling on your phone. 

“Hey, Tom?” 

“Yes, my sweet girl?” 

“Do you want to go downtown?” You asked, looking at your phone as you read the details of an event happening this weekend.

“Right now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “There’s a book fair being held at the local theatre.” You rested your chin on top of his chest and gave him a pout. You were getting sick of being cooped up between your study table and the library. This book fair was a change of scenery and it’s definitely right up your alley.

“But it’s raining, darling” Tom tried to say in the softest way possible. It’s not exactly up in Tom’s interests though.

“I know,” You sighed “I guess I’m just getting sick of this place.”

“You’re getting sick of me?” Tom asked with a huge pout. He was kidding of course. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of you, Tom.” You chuckled softly. 

“Okay,” He hummed, pulling you closer to him—if that was even possible. “Then can we stay like this for a while?” 

“Anything for you, angel.” You whispered as you closed the details about the local book fair. Maybe next time. 

Soon after Tom left, Maia pulled you to her side and asked, “You okay, babe?” 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You feigned innocence. It was clear as day that you weren’t okay, your friends knew that. 

Knowing that you weren’t going to budge, Maia walked towards the kitchen and brought out a bottle of wine from the fridge. 

Harrison raised an eyebrow at her and asked, “When did you manage to put that in the fridge?” All of you had been occupied with grabbing boxes that there was no way that Maia had the time to put wine in the fridge, let alone obtain them from somewhere.

“It was supposed to be a celebratory drink for Y/N’s new place,” Maia replied as she set the wine and three various mugs on the coffee table. “Obviously, that’s not happening now.” Drinking wine using the oddly designed mugs you collected over the years was a cry for help. 

“It’s 4 pm, Mai.” You pointed out as you stared at the white LED clock that you bought off Amazon—another impulse purchase enabled from scrolling on Pinterest for way too long. “We haven’t even had lunch yet.” 

“Oh please,” Maia snorted “If there’s one thing that I’ve picked up from university, it’s drinking with little to no food consumption.” 

“And if there’s one thing that I’ve picked up from university, it’s cancelling all of my plans for the entire day because I have to tend your hungover-self, Mai,” Harrison remarked as he grabbed the bottle and placed it back on the fridge. “I’m ordering food and no one’s drinking until everyone has finished a meal.” 

You heard Maia mutter a string of curses but most especially the part that she said, “This is not the version of daddy that I envisioned Harrison to be.” 

All of a sudden Maia’s idea of binge drinking doesn’t seem like a bad idea, you thought. 

Turns out Harrison had no intention of letting any of you drink. He was pretty adamant about not having to babysit two drunk messes in one night. 

“As if babysitting one isn’t enough,” You recalled Harrison say. He was obviously pertaining to Maia, in which she just huffed the entire time. You often wondered if Maia and Harrison noticed the obvious tension between them, because personally you found it endearing. It was no question that they were meant for each other. 

“Y/N, you still haven’t told us whatever happened between you and Tom.” Maia suddenly pointed out. You, Maia, and Harrison were still in the living room, silently watching TV. 

You were actively avoiding this conversation for the longest time as you haven’t told anyone about it, and based by the curious faces of your friends, you figured that Tom didn’t tell anyone about it either. You’re still not sure whether that’s a relief or not.  

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You mumbled. It’s not like you were lying, there really was barely anything to talk about. Heck—You and Tom never got to talk about it properly either. 

“We see the way you look at him, Y/N.” Harrison replied softly. “I think there is something.” 

“Look—” Maia sat up properly “I know you’re not really vocal about your feelings, but the fact that you’ve never talked nor showed any emotion about your breakup terrifies me, babe.” Maia’s tone was laced with concern. 

“I remember the day you told us about it too,” Harrison couldn’t hide his concern too “We were having brunch together at our usual diner and half-way through our meal, you promptly said “We broke up” when Maia asked where Tom was,” Harrison recalled it like it was a fever dream. He and Maia had already expected that you weren’t going to tell them about the breakup when it just happened. However, it baffles them that it’s been over a year since you and Tom broke up, and not one word has been said about it. 

It was silent for a while, except for Criminal Minds that was playing on the TV. You blankly stared at the screen, hoping that you’d catch whatever the agents were saying. It was impossible, especially when all your mind could focus on was the recollection of the day Tom knocked on your door at 1 am to breakup.  

You were relatively busy that day from volunteer work, so you haven’t seen any of your friends the entire day—or Tom for that matter. Actually, you haven’t seen Tom in a few days. He would send texts periodically throughout the day but they were always short and most of the time, you always forget to reply. 

You figured Tom was busy with his own thing and both of you established early on in your relationship that texting—or lack thereof— shouldn’t account to your relationship, especially since both of you are equally bad at it. 

You didn’t think any of it since you were bound to see your boyfriend and your friends tomorrow for brunch anyway. He will have your undivided attention by then. 

So imagine your surprise when you heard a soft knock from your door at 1 am, only to find Tom in disarray. His eyes were bloodshot red, tears falling down his face. His messy curls were masked under the hood from his jumper. 

At first you were in panic, you thought that something terrible had happened to any of your friends—his family even. 

But as soon as Tom dropped to his knees and whispered, “I’m sorry,” you had a clear idea what was bound to happen next. 

It’s been silent for a while. The door was still open and Tom sat out in the hall with his back leaning against your wall. You did the same thing except you were on the other side of the wall that Tom was leaning on. 

You two were close enough to the door frame that you could hear each other, actually facing each other was a whole other thing. Tears kept streaming down your face as you kept your eyes closed and rested your head against the wall. 

At some point in your relationship, you prepared yourself in case this happened— that you would accept whatever happens between you and Tom. You didn’t exactly anticipate that it would happen so soon. 

“Was there someone else?” You asked quietly. It was the first time you spoke after Tom dropped to his knees. You hoped there wasn’t. In fact, you silently begged to yourself that there wasn’t someone else, because you knew that you couldn’t handle that. 

“No, no—of course not.” Tom immediately answers.”I could never do that to you.” 

It was silent again. You were starting to feel numb—you tried your best to gather your thoughts and forced words out of your mouth, but you couldn’t. 

“Are we not worth fighting anymore?” You practically whispered. It was a gamble— you weren’t exactly sure if Tom had heard it and you don’t have enough strength to ask it again. 

“Y/N,” Tom sniffled. “You can’t say that.” He placed his hand on top of yours. You had your hand resting on the floor and you didn’t exactly notice that it served as an invitation for Tom hold it again. 

You love Tom with all your heart. He kept dismissing it but Tom made you a better person. He made you feel like love can be expressed through different forms of things—not just words.

You loved him by exclusively making time for him. You went on museum dates where he would make cheesy remarks, saying that you’re the most remarkable piece of art in the entire place. You went on dates to watch football games—you never understood it but Tom was happy, so you were happy.

You loved him through your touch. You would often massage his back because he had been tirelessly working himself to the core. He didn’t ask for it but you knew it would make him feel better. Your touch didn’t have to be intimate—though you expressed it through that way too

You loved him through mindless actions. Almost every time you would stop by at the local cafe to grab yourself some coffee, you would always recite Tom’s favourite order on autopilot. 

You loved him through silence. Study dates were gems for you. Even if you didn’t talk for the entirety of it and even if you were the only one who studied for the most part and Tom was just playing on his phone, having Tom beside you was enough.

You loved him so much that it pains you to think that maybe you weren’t enough for him. 

“I don’t think I can fight for someone who doesn’t even want to,” You muttered bitterly. “Just answer the question, Tom.” 

He didn’t answer. All you could hear were the silent sobs that you two were trying to hold back. At this point, you knew you wouldn’t look at Tom. Your heart wouldn’t take it—it will crush you. 

“Are you not happy anymore?” Your voice cracked as you broke into a sob.

“Y/N—“ Tom squeezed your hand even more. You’re going to miss it, but you had to let go. 

“Tom, if I’m standing in the way of your happiness then we should end this.” You cleared your throat and pulled your hand away. There’s a ghostly feeling that still lingered from Tom’s touch. 

“Please, Y/N, let me explain—“ 

“It’s okay, Tom.” You whispered. “I understand.” 

“You know I love you, Y/N.” 

“I love you too, Tom.” 

“But—“ 

“But maybe it’s best if we end it, I know. I got it.” You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down from crying. “Maybe it’s better if we stayed as friends.” Maybe it’s better to realize that whatever you and Tom had were too good to be true—that your love will never compare to the love he deserves. 

“Do you want the truth?” You asked your friends, with tears forming in your eyes. You can’t even decipher how they looked at you because of the tears clouding your vision. 

Were they looking at you in pity? Empathy? Sadness? 

“The truth is—I’m mad.” You gritted the words through your teeth. This was the first time your friends had seen you like this. All of the pent-up sadness, aggression, and hurt you felt was starting to get the best of you. 

“I’m angry. I’m hurt.” You snarled, furiously wiping the tears from your face. “I’m angry at the fact that I can’t seem to be genuinely happy for Tom. I’m hurt at the idea he seems to be a better boyfriend for Nadine, that he constantly makes an effort for her.”

“I don’t even know if he even loved me the way that I loved him,” Your voice became quiet “and it’s selfish for me to think that way because I never fought for it—for us. That’s enough reason to keep me up at night.” 

That’s enough reason for you to wonder if you’ll be capable of loving someone so deeply again. 

PERMANENT TAGLIST: 

@quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11 @tomshufflepuff @spider-babe @goodgirlgonetom @tabi-toast​ 

[evienyx]

Hey so uh, sorry that this is kinda a personal question and unrelated to what you usually post but you seem really nice and I was wondering how you figured out that you were ace? I’ve been struggling with this myself for a while now, and was just wondering if you had any advice or something. Please don’t feel obligated to respond or anything, I totally get that this is kinda a weird question and might make you uncomfy, so sorry about that in advance. Thanks!

Well, I’m going to start off by saying that everyone is different. You won’t figure it out the same way I figured it out, just like how I didn’t figure it out the same way any of my friends did. That’s all right. Take all the time that you need.

Additionally, I only really figured this out for myself in the last few years, and one day something may happen that I identify with a different sexuality and that’s also okay. This is not a ‘one-and-done’ kinda thing. It’s all right. This is your thing. Yours.

For me, it was around my freshman year of high school that I started realizing that I had never really gotten to that phase where I started obsessing over anyone. Now, in middle school, even though that was the time when a lot of people around me really started going hard into the dating thing, I never did. I skipped a year in school, though, so it would make sense for me to be about a year or so later than everyone else hopping on the hype train of teenhood, but halfway through my first year of high school, it was still pretty mute.

People around me would joke constantly, say things like “Oh, well, once she gets her first crush, everything will change.” I remember distinctly my cousin asking me if I had a crush on anyone, and then me saying no, and then my grandma patting me on the cheek and saying “You just haven’t found the right boy yet.”

So, for most of freshman year, I sort of just accepted what people around me said, that I was a “late-bloomer” and I would one day fall for someone hard and everything would make sense. 

When the end of freshman year came around, I was quite sure that I was just another straight girl, who would get the whole ‘attraction thing’ soon enough. 

As the months went on, though, I realized a few things.

1. Whatever thing was meant to change, didn’t come to fruition.

2. I was perfectly fine and open to dating someone, but I didn’t care about what they looked like. When friends and cousins and the like would show pictures of actors and talk about how hot the actor was, I’d agree, but almost completely on a baseline objective level.

and 3. I was completely uninterested in the idea of sex. I didn’t seek it out, or care about it. It was barely even spared a thought in my mind.

I started thinking that there might be something wrong with me, or that maybe I had felt sexual attraction toward someone, and I just hadn’t noticed. But the further into the year I got, the more I came to recognize the fact that that was not the case. 

I recall on one specific wet day in the late winter of that year, I was walking my dog on the one day the temperatures were slightly decent, and I was just scrolling through the internet aimlessly when I noticed something that caught my eye. It was a post (which I cannot find) of around two dozen pride flags, each with a name and description of the sexaulity or gender identity it represented.

That day, walking the dog through slush that got melting snow stuck to his paws and mud clinging to my boots, as the temperature prepared to drop below freezing for another week, I learned, for the first time, what Asexuality was.

I had seen the flag before, of course, and heard the term ‘ace,’ but I had never looked into it, thought about it. I didn’t think much of it at that moment, either. I just filed it away and moved on to exhale sharply through my nose at whatever ‘Stonks’ meme came up on my feed next.

Quite a while (as in, literal years) passed, though, and I found myself thinking about the idea of ‘Asexuality’ that I had heard about more and more. 

The one thing that really held me back was the fact that I was fine with the concept of having sex with someone, though I was only really interested in doing it for the experience/intimacy, and possibly in the future to have a child, and I thought to myself, “I can’t be Asexual if I want to have a kid. That’s not how it works.”

Surprisingly (or maybe not surprisingly at all), there was one thing that really did it for me in the end, and that was when Muffin ( @muffinlance ) announced on Tumblr (in a post I cannot find) that she was going to be having a baby.

An asexual (married too, so take that grandma!), having a baby. While still being asexual.

I looked into it, discovered the idea of someone being Asexual Sex-Positive, Sex-Neutral, or Sex-Negative. I found out, truly, about the idea of being Demisexual, or Gray Axsexual. The idea of an Asexuality Spectrum was opened up to me, and I realized suddenly that all of my worries, everything that had been holding me back, didn’t matter. 

My Tumblr bio shortly after changed from ‘she/her’ to ‘she/her, ace’ and it was one of the best feelings in the entire world. I don’t quite think I’ll ever be able to describe to someone who never went through the experience of finally feeling like your belong, if only for that one moment.

(also, currently, I’m of the opinion that I am either Biromantic or Panromantic. I’m leaning more towards bi, but I’m completely open still. I also have still not dated a single person ever, so who knows. That’s not what this is about, just thought I’d mention it)

You should take all the time you need, find what fits you. It’s weird to hear, and it’s hard to do, but I’m quite sure that once you find it, you’ll know it.

Last holiday season, while at a gathering with the more intensely religious and traditional side of my family, a cousin of mine sang “I Kissed a Boy,” by Adele, but changed the lyrics to “I Kissed a Girl,” so as not to appear ‘gay’ in any way, shape, or form. 

I noticed a different cousin of mine looking a bit upset while he sang the song, and so I talked to her alone afterward to see if they were all right, and after just a few minutes of speaking about nothing in particular, he came out to me in a hallway at a holiday party when no one else but me was around. And, in return, I did the same and came out to them.

He was the first family member I ever came out to, and that was the first time I truly told someone my sexuality. I told them I was asexual, and they accepted it and we hugged and it was one of the more exhilarating moments of my entire life.

So, in the end, how did I figure out I was ace?

I just sort of did. I feel I could have done more research earlier than I did, but that’s all right. It all worked out. I figured it out, and I promise you will, too. And if you get it wrong a few times before you get it right? That’s perfectly okay, too.

Anyway, one more additional personal thought about something I noticed that I think is kinda weird:

Muffin and her actions and stuff are so weirdly tied to such random core parts of my life. I published the first chapter of Fractures because I was encouraged and inspired when I saw her own stories. I finally figured out my sexuality and felt like I belonged, like one of those flags was mine, because of her. It’s just a bit crazy to me. Thanks, I guess, Muffin.

All right, that’s about it. I hope this helps, at least a bit. 

I wish you the best, anon, in figuring out who you are. You can take as long as you need or want, you don’t need to stick to a choice. This is your identity. This is yours. Not a single person gets a choice in the matter besides you. Good luck, and remember, you’ve always got me in your corner. If anyone ever gives you shit about this kinda thing, send ‘em my way. I did Tae Kwon Do for two-and-a-half years, and I’m also constantly fueled by spite and Twix bars. We’re all here for you. 

That goes for anyone. Don’t be afraid to embrace who you are. I’m proud of you, we’re all proud of you. This is who you are. Enjoy it.

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

I don't think people are giving lavinia enough love so allow me to start: could someone write a fic where mc gets hurt by someone and lavinia just sort of...snaps? Afterwards she comforts mc making sure she's alright? Thank you in advance!

You had never seen so much rage in Lavinia’s face, not even when she had discovered someone had trampled with the spell on her heart. You squint, dazed, mind too numb to remember what was wrong but still alert enough to recognize her expression.

There was something unhinged about it now, nothing but a murderous avalanche, and for a second you feel something spark within you at the sight. Your body is already moving, automatically seeking to match Lavinia’s rage with pure stubbornness, before your mind finally registers the fact that her ire isn’t directed at you at all.

“Oh,” you mumble, logic trying to pierce through the fog ruling your mind. “Why—”

Lavinia’s saying something. No, she’s screaming it, body heaving with the force of it, and you wonder why you can’t hear her until the raging wind that you had been somehow ignoring until now hits you with its full, frigid force, and what the hell is happening why is Lavinia so mad why is your side hurting so damn much—

“Rebecca!”

You fall into someone’s arms. It takes a second for you to recognize Nora, her expression marred by sheer terror, eyes wide and trembling like a crumbling autumn leaf under the first snow of winter.

She holds you absentmindedly, focused on something behind you before your yelp of pain draws her attention, magic already swirling at her fingertips as she murmurs something under her breath.

“You’re going to be okay, I swear,” she says — her hands are quivering. Maybe it’s from the cold. You hope it’s from the cold, and not something else, someone else.

“Lavinia, why is — what happened?”

“You got attacked by someone and—” she freezes for a split second when she sees the yellow glow on her hands before frowning, her earlier fear melting away by her usual laser-sharp focus. “No wonder you’re so out of it! The blade she used was cursed!”

“Oh, yey, another curse.”

“This is going to sting.”

“What? Wait, what are you going—?”

Nora is always prepared, it seems. Your gaze locks on the potion she’s suddenly holding, worried by its grey color, but Nora has already turned it over before you can express your concerns. For a second it feels as if someone has injected atmosphere-cold into your veins, and your mouth opens in a soundless scream before everything suddenly becomes clearer.

Right, right, you had been in the forest with Lavinia, trying to get through her — for the third time this week, by the way, because the Ice Queen was determined to avoid you and was being frustratingly successful in doing so — when there had been this flash of red and blinding pain. Nora must have been close by… collecting herbs, maybe?

You grit your teeth, forcing yourself to ignore the pain coating your side, and turn your head at the right time to see Lavinia slamming another woman onto the floor as if she were nothing but a broken doll, specks of snow thrown into the wind by the impact. At some point during the fight, Lavinia had turned the forest clearing into an ice ring, adding a whole blizzard on top. The snow swirled around her like angry, tiny knives, and you had no doubt the other woman hadn’t stood a chance.

A small shiver ran down your spine, not of fear, but of the pure awe, rushing into your soul like spring water.

“This is all I can manage. My magic is limited here,” Lavinia had explained not too long ago, blue eyes twinkling soft and distant like moonlight, and you wonder how much she is really capable of if this is all she can work with right now. What would she be able to do in her world? What could she do with the sheer force of winter at her beck and call?

You can’t help but marvel over the thought, at how your body feels light and small when you contemplate it.

But then her eyes snap in your direction, two tiny pinpricks of pure rage, her gaze carrying the power and danger of a natural disaster. There’s a small flicker of a season change — of a thaw — when she sees you’re okay, but it disappears when she focuses on the person beside you. Time seems to slow down.

For a second you think the situation is going to escalate horribly. For a second you think the blonde might have mistaken Nora’s help for another attack, and by the way Lavinia’s hand twitches that’s her first impression, but she remains frozen on her spot like a faraway, pale star. She’s still half-crunched over her opponent’s unconscious body.

Slowly — very, very slowly, as if fate threatened to cut her string as soon as she made a sudden movement — Nora edges away from you. “I— I’ll just… go.”

Lavinia’s shoulders lose their tension as if hit by summer’s heat. She nods, stiffly. “Thank you.”

Nora spares a look at you, laying on frost-coated grass and propelled by your elbows like a bad model from some cheap magazine, and seems relieved you’re no longer in danger, disappearing a second later.

Lavinia is next to you immediately, frowning at the gash there. It isn’t bleeding, even though you both know it should. The Ice Queen leans forward ever so slightly, her touch feather-soft, and you’re struck by how different she is now. A moment ago, she had been a merciless avalanche, a Wendigo wreaking havoc, but now the genuine softness and worry in her eyes make you want to melt. You can’t help but lean into her, letting her act as your anchor.

She pauses when you flinch at her gentle touch near your wound. She frowns.

“She used a Velbetro infusion? But that would mean you were—”

You catch the way her eyes flicker towards the discarded weapon that had injured you, a dark shadow falling over expression. You guess what she’s going to say. Your hand cups her cheek, applying just enough pressure to make her look at you again, and the sweet surprise that thaws any dark thoughts she was about to have makes your skin buzz with energy.

“Slowly amassing an impressive collection of curses? You bet I am.”

She blinks, taken aback, the twitch at the corner of her lips indicating she found your snark reassuring. “Might want to dial it back a little, then, chaos girl. Good thing the Velbetro neutralized this one.” She focuses on your side, again. “How’s the sting?”

Truth be told, with her so close — too close — the pain had taken a secondary priority. Now that she reminded you of it, the pain crawled back with a vengeance. Once again, Lavinia remains an anchor as your hand tightens on her arm, nails digging into her skin. To her credit, the blonde doesn’t even blink.

“That bad?” She asks, tone surprisingly kind. “Let’s wait a moment, then. We need to go back to your house and dress the wound before the effect disappears though. You’ll start bleeding then — and badly.”

“Yey, yet another thing to look forward to.”

“…I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner. I would have been able to prevent—”

“It’s fine.”

“It should have been obvious, though. Of course she’d take the chance to hunt me down when my magic is weak, and of course she’d target you—”

“Your magic isn’t weak at all, you totally schooled her!”

“Only because she was too distracted gloating. I—”

“I’m fine, Lavinia. C’mon, help me get to my house.”

Her eyes are faraway portals of grief, but she nods anyway, falling quiet as she helps you up with extreme care. The way back is silent, fast. You hadn’t been too far from your house to begin with. Lavinia loops an arm around your waist and presses you to her, expression stony and neutral, but you’re still eternally grateful to her.

[twomoonstwosuns]

at first sight [bonus chapter]

back to you [series masterlist]

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warning: none? language?

word count: 2.5k

a/n: well im sorry this took so long to get up...we are struggling hard right now. and if you are too, know you're not alone and we’ll get through this <3 stay tuned for this same chapter but from poe’s POV

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

New year, new me. You told yourself the same thing at the beginning of each school year. 

Although it was usually just said on New Year’s Eve in preparations for the brand new year, you felt it applied to starting a new semester as well: new classes, new teachers, new schedule, new routine. It was also the beginning of your senior year of college, your last first day of school ever. So in a way, you were preparing for something new. You’d graduate before you knew it and then adulthood would creep up on you. 

But you could hardly wait to see what the next two semesters would bring you in the meantime. 

You made sure to leave your apartment early to stop at your favorite coffee stand in the student center. Waving at your friend Qi’Ra behind the counter, you got yourself in line and replied to your mom and sister’s happy first day texts. 

“I knew I’d find you here.”

The familiar voice of your best friend Karé made you smile and you squealed quietly as you hugged her. She had spent the night with her boyfriend Snap after being out of town the last week before school, so you hadn’t seen her after you moved in.

“I’ve missed you! How was your vacation?”

“Awesome as usual. Weather was amazing, we spent everyday out on the water. Snap’s sunburn is finally starting to heal.”

“God yeah, you sent me that picture of his back…that looked awful.”

She nodded. “He was all ‘oh, there’s lots of clouds in the sky, it’s not going to be that bad’ and now I get to hold this over him for the rest of his life.”

You laughed as she rolled her eyes as you finally got to the counter. Qi’Ra already knew your order by heart and, like the first day of every new semester, she gave you your drink free of charge. She whipped it up right away, handing it to you with the promise of getting together soon. You and Karé walked outside, the bright sunshine making your drink sweat and the both wish you didn’t have to spend the next couple hours stuck inside. 

“So, how’s the stuff with your dad going?”

You shrugged. “If I had spoken to him at all since he walked out, I’d have something to tell you.”

Karé’s shoulders slumped. “No…seriously?”

You sighed and nodded as you stirred your drink.

“Not one word. I told you my uncle came by a few days after he left to tell us he was okay?” Karé nodded. “A couple of weeks went by and the next thing I know, he’s filing for divorce. But he hasn’t actually talked to Tallie and I.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry…”

You sighed heavily and shook your head. “It’s whatever. Nothing I can do. Haven’t talked to him since and he abandoned us for his secretary so I don’t plan on talking to him at all.”

Karé nodded slowly and reached over and squeezed your arm and you gave her a small smile of appreciation.

“Anyway…what class are you off to first?”

“My advanced math class.” You made a face and she chuckled. “Yeah, you’re not jealous at all, are you?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, I get to start out my day with my half semester class…three hours, twice a week, tons of homework.”

“Fun. Who’s your professor?”

You grabbed your phone from your pocket, bringing up your schedule and looking at the details.

“Uhhh, Dameron. Heard of him?”

“I think he’s one of the newer teachers here.”

“Well, hopefully he’s good.” You took a sip of your drink and checked the time on your phone. “Guess I’ll go find out.”

“See you later, then.”

Karé gave you a quick hug and you walked in opposite directions. You walked to the building of your classroom and though you were grateful for the air conditioning, you hoped that since it was the first day you’d be let out early. The sun was out, flowers were still blooming along the sidewalks despite the late season. Fall semester was always the one you dreaded the most…stuck inside staring at four blank walls during your favorite kind of weather. 

The classroom was on the third level, which meant minimal traffic in the halls and big windows that showed a great view of campus. The blinds were open, allowing sunlight to flood into the room and making it that much more welcoming. A few students were already seated and the professor nowhere in sight but his stuff at his desk. You made your way into the room, not finding a friend yet, and walked to a seat right around the middle of the room. You took your things out and waited and scrolled through three different social media apps as more students trickled in. Your name was called and you looked up and saw a girl you worked with the previous semester and smiled as she sat down next to you. At least you kind of knew one person in the class. 

“Alright, let’s get started.”

One glance up at the source of the voice was not enough as you practically did a double take. Your professor was an extremely handsome man. Dark hair sat on top of his head in a mess of curls that laid just between styled and unruly. You could see from your seat that his eyes were dark…brown, maybe. He was young; you guessed that he couldn’t be more than thirty-five. As he came around from behind his desk, you took notice of the way his dark blue jeans fit snugly around   big thighs. His sleeves were pushed up to show off tan forearms and as he leaned back against his desk, he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest.

“Good morning, everyone.” Three simple words grabbed the attention of every girl in class. “I’m Professor Dameron. I hope you all had a great summer. I don’t know about some of you, but I am very excited to get this semester going.”

There was some polite laughter. He was using a light, friendly tone of voice, making sure his very first impression on people wouldn’t wasn’t a bad one. 

“Subject-wise, this is one of my favorite classes to teach. The only way I could get this class in this year was to teach it in half the amount of time as a normal class. I’m warning you now, this is going to be a busy class. We are fitting about fifteen weeks worth of stuff into seven weeks. Attendance is going to be very, very important.” 

Some of the students visibly gulped, others nodded slowly as the realization of how much work would have to go into this class started to sink in. “Don’t worry, I will have lots of resources to help you guys. Um, just an example…I will make all of the lectures and slides available on the portal after class, including any key notes from the textbook and discussions that come up during class. That being said, you still need to attend class. I’ll go over more of this when we go through the syllabus.”

You admired him as he spoke. The hint of smile on his face showed his excitement for the class and the new semester. His voice was smooth like honey and you were sure you could listen to him spout off the most boring stuff in the world and not tire of it.

“First things first…attendance.” He turned to grab his clipboard and you and the girl next to you both checked out his ass. “In lied of just calling your names, we’re going to do an icebreaker.”

The collection of heavy sighs made him chuckle lightly. “I know, I know…they’re not always fun and you’ll probably do a whole bunch more after today. Personally, I like to get to know my students. We’ll be spending a lot of time together this semester and the more comfortable you feel talking to me, the more open you’ll be to telling me what you need to help you succeed in this class. So, let’s do it and get it over with. Tell me your name, something fun you did over the summer, your favorite type of music and…what do you think? Favorite color? Favorite animal? “Let’s do favorite animal.”

Glancing around, you saw people look anywhere but at their teacher, hoping they wouldn’t catch his eye and make them go first. 

“Alright, come on guys, you’re acting like I’m going to pull your teeth out. I’ll go first. My name is Poe, this summer I visited my dad in Colorado where I grew up and saw friends that live on both coasts. I’m a big fan of classic rock but catch me jamming to a pop song every now and then…” That got some laughs from the class and he laughed with them. “Seriously, anything by the Weeknd.”

“The Weeknd has a lot of songs about sex,” the girl next to you whispered and you nearly choked as you took a sip out of your water bottle. 

“And my favorite animal is a dog. Alright, let’s start in the back.”

One by one students introduced themselves. He asked questions about their summer jobs and their summer vacations, genuinely interested in the details and making them feel comfortable talking to him. A couple of people named weird animals as their favorite, such as lizards and dinosaurs, that spurred further discussions and got the class completely off track. It was all fun and games until you got to your row and you counted how many people were before you and practiced what you would say in your head.

“Okay, um, I’m Y/N…” Poe looked at the attendance list, finding your name and marking you down in attendance. “I didn’t do anything super special over the summer, just worked my two jobs and went to the cabin with friends and family. I like pretty much any kind of music, as long as it’s got a good beat I don’t really care what genre it is…though I am a sucker for pop music sometimes. And my favorite animal is an elephant.”

Poe cracked a smile and you let out a quiet sigh of relief as the girl next to you introduced herself. As social as you were, you still hated speaking in front of a classroom full of people. 

“Okay, see? That wasn’t so bad.” Poe teased as the last person finished speaking. A few people laughed and you smiled. Almost an hour into class and you already knew this would be one of the classes you’d look forward to the most. “Let’s start going over the syllabus. I’ll have you pass these down and I’ll bring it up on the screen here…”

He handed a stack of papers to a student in the front row and they started passing them down. Poe went back around his desk and connected his laptop to the projector. The desktop image of a Corgi laying in the grass with a toy appeared and you along with half the girls in the class let out not subtle aww’s.

“That’s my dog, Beebs.” Poe smiled sheepishly when he noticed the screen had popped up.

“How old is he?” One of the girls from the back asked. 

“He’s probably three, three and a half…I rescued him as a puppy so I’m not too sure.”

More aww’s filled the room as he brought the syllabus up onto the screen. You grabbed one when it reached you and passed it along and a quick glance through the five pages showed the class schedule and detailed expectations. When everyone had a copy, he started going over it, talking about the schedule in extreme detail and laying out what a typical class day would look like.

Poe finished up the syllabus and gave you a fifteen minute break before diving into the first chapter. His teaching style was the dream, the way that every teacher should teach: not too fast, not too slow, answering every single question before moving on, and making sure everyone was keeping up. 

Despite it being a three hour class, you no longer dreaded it…you knew that Poe would do as much as he could to help you all succeed. 

“Alright, homework for Thursday: chapter two, print out the study guide and start working on it. We’ll finish our chapter one discussion then as well. You’re good to go.”

You gathered up your things, shoving them into your backpack and checking the time to see you had just enough to grab something to eat before your next class. You had just reached the top of the stairs when you realized you hadn’t put your water bottle into your backpack. Letting out an annoyed groan, you doubled back up the stairs towards your classroom. You snuck in past a couple of students that were just leaving and beelined for your desk, making Poe look up at you.

“Sorry, forgot my water bottle.”

You found it tucked under your seat and grabbed it, giving him a small smile as you passed to head back out the door. 

“Why elephant?”

Looking back at him, you saw an easy smile on his face. “Sorry?”

“You said your favorite animal was an elephant. Usually it’s household pets or animals that live in the forest…or apparently lizards and t-rex’s. Why elephant?”

You shrugged with a nervous smile. “I, um…I don’t know. I just think they’re beautiful and strong and they roll around in the mud and water and act like such babies…baby elephants actually suck on their trunks like babies suck on their fingers—“

“Do they?” You blushed hard, feeling like you just made a fool of yourself. “So you don’t just think they’re cute…you’re practically an expert on them?”

His tone wasn’t teasing like you expected, but instead curious at the knowledge you shared. 

“No, I actually saw that on one of those random Facebook videos.”

A heartfelt laugh erupted from his chest and you laughed with him. 

“I know what you’re talking about,” he said as he continued packing up his bag. “They’re those videos that are on random pages you liked years ago or from a news source…I’ve actually found some good recipes from them.”

“So you know. Random but good information.”

He nodded and you felt your phone buzz in your hand. You looked down at it and saw a message and noticed the time. 

“I should go, um I have class…I’ll see you around, Mr. Dameron.”

You gave him a small wave and internally cringed at yourself as you headed towards the door, the flush of embarrassment in your face.

It was going to be an interesting semester. 

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[twoidiotwriters1]

Snowy stop (Din Djarin x Fem! Reader)

A/N:  And we start with little Christmas stories! Merry early Christmas, everyone!

P.S. The only reason I did this taking it for a Christmas thing, is because it has snow. Enjoy

P.S. 2. Yes, I am still crying for the end of the second season of The Mandalorian. 

Warnings: Spoiler not spoiler of season 2, I guess.

"Where do we go now?" I sit in the passenger seat.

"There are still three days to reach Nevarro,” answers the Mandalorian.

"But we've been wandering in space for over two weeks," I complain.

"If we make fewer stops, we’ll get there faster.”

"And the food will end faster too," I reply.

He sighs, presses a few buttons, and turns his chair to see me through his helmet visor.

"You know how this is, Y/N.”

“We have never been so long on the ship. We can get to a nearby planet, buy food, and that's it. Surely it won't take long–“

“We don't have enough credits for food. Which means I have to find a job and it would take more time."

I bite my lower lip hiding a smile.

"You know how this works, Din.”

He sighs again.

"We won’t make stops,” he says and returns to the control panel.

"Oh, come on. Aren't you tired of being in front of those buttons, walking just to go to the bathroom, eat or go to sleep?" He ignores me. "I don't even know when was the last time you slept on your cot!”

I see how he tenses.

"I'm trying to continue the journey so that we can get there faster and you stop complaining," He growls.

"I would complain less if you even rested like a normal person.”

“I am not a normal person. I am a Mandalorian.”

"Yes of course, now you’re going to tell me that not sleeping is the rule that follows after not removing the helmet–”

"Why don't you go see how the child is?"

I roll my eyes.

“I hate when you’re so stubborn. That happens to you for not breathing fresh air…”

"Stop complaining and go with the child.”

"Alright, grumpy,” I say getting up.

I go down the metal staircase and walk down the small hallway until I reach the 'rooms'. Two capsules, in one Mando and the baby sleep, in the other there is only me, although it also depends on the baby's mood, sometimes wants to be with me and others with him.

As I get closer I hear the happy cooing of the little green creature, who is sitting in the little makeshift hammock. I smile and take him in my arms.

"Good morning, my little bean,” I pat his huge ears and he babbles happily. “Let's make you something to eat. I'm sorry, it’ll be the same as the whole week, your father is a disinterested grump who doesn't want to buy you anything else,” the baby babbles again as if he were answering. "I know, you should tell him something…”

But before he could coo anything, the ship shakes brutally and a crash is heard outside of it. The movement makes me fall and I do my best not to hurt the baby. I hug him against my chest and approach a wall. The alarm sounds and for a few seconds the light goes out. Then all is quiet and the ship stops.

"You're good?" I ask the baby.

Strong footsteps are heard approaching us and the imposing figure of Mando crouches in front of me.

“Are you okay?" He asks agitated. I nod and move my arm so the baby comes out of hiding. Din sighs in relief when he sees us.

"What happened?”

He sighs and taps his helmet.

"Something happened to the engine.”

I frown. He knows I don't know anything about ships, so he doesn't bother using big words, but he always tries to explain it to me so I can learn. This time it is different. He wants to avoid it. He stands up and offers his hand to help me.

"Something with the motor?" I ask suspicious.

“It's nothing, I can fix it.”

"Did someone attack us?" An idea crosses my mind and I can't help but smile. "The engine overheated, didn't it?"

He doesn't respond, which makes me laugh.

"There is nothing funny about it.”

"Of course not, grumpy," I say sarcastically. I lift the baby a little. "Did you hear that? Now we’ll have to land on a planet. You’ll finally be able to see the sun again!” The green creature just laughs.

Din growls.

"Don't be so dramatic.”

"Come on, Little bean. We’ll have something for breakfast and then explore a new planet,” I say ignoring the man's comment and walk to the kitchen.

***

"You have to be kidding me,” I say seeing the great landscape in front of me.

"What's going on?" Din asks next to me. I'm sure he's grinning like an asshole now. "You wanted to make a stop, right?"

All terrain is covered in an extremely thick layer of snow. Some bare trees surround the horizon and in the distance are some cabins, perhaps a town.

"But, you can hardly see the sun!” I complain seeing the cloudy sky.

"Now you complain about the planet?"

I sigh.

"Oh well. I'll go for more clothes…”

It doesn't take me that long to choose something more ‘appropriate’, but no matter how much I put on another layer of clothing, the wind cuts through my bones, making me shiver.

"If I become an ice sculture, it will remain on your conscience,” I say returning to the ramp.

"Come on," he says laughing.

Din keeps the baby warm in a bag and hides him with his cape so as not to attract attention. As always, he leaves me behind. But something besides my short legs is stopping me: the snow is so thick that it’s difficult for me to raise my legs again with each step and when I look up to see Din, I am infuriated to see that he has no problem.

"Hey, wait for me!" I yell at him, but he never turns around. I curse under my breath. And as if my luck couldn't get worse, after taking another step, I don't feel anything solid and I fall into the snow, leaving only my head in view. I complain and try to get up, but any movement makes it worse. It's like I'm in quicksand. "Din!" I screech.

I remove the snow from my body, but nothing works, only after a few minutes the Mandalorian returns. He looks at me from above with his arms crossed.

"Do you have a problem, princess?"

"I'm stuck," I say, pouting.

"I thought so,” he says taking my hand.

The rest of the way was better as Din had no choice but to carry me on his back. Only until we got to town, was I able to get off and feel the stable cobbled ground.

The three of us went into the first restaurant and sat at a table.

"I'll go find a job,” he informs us and he goes to talk to other people.

I sigh and remove my scarf. I put the baby in his high chair. A waitress comes over and I order two plates of soup, it's the only thing we can have.

"Do you like this place, Grogu?" The baby babbles and trembles slightly so I put my scarf around him.

The waitress comes back and we both eat until Din arrives.

“I got something. It shouldn't take more than two days.”

I nod and finish my soup. When we pay we return to the cold.

"Do you think that with the money from your work we can get more clothes?" I ask him, hugging my body.

“Maybe,” He tilts his helmet. “The ship is too far to return. They gave me an advance, we’ll stay in a cabin tonight.”

The room is big enough to have a double bed and the capsule where the baby sleeps. It’s nothing out of the ordinary and it doesn’t even bother us that it doesn’t have two beds, at this point we have gotten used to sleeping anywhere.

Also, I could never complain about sleeping near Din and neither does he.

The baby falls asleep as soon as he touches his pillow and I run to the warm blankets on the bed.

“I will go find information. Is it okay if you stay here alone?" says the Mandalorian preparing his blaster.

Normally, where he goes we go with him, but it’s not difficult to see that both the baby and I prefer to stay.

Din leaves and I spend at least two hours alone doing nothing more than getting some sleep and distracting me with some hologram videos that the hostel offers, but a bang disrupts our peace. In the corridors of the hostel gunshots and screams are heard causing the baby to wake up.

Instinctively, I close the curtains and turn to the capsule. A new shot is heard and the baby presses the button to close the crib. I laugh and push him into a corner, pull out my blaster and open the door a little. I slowly went out until I reached the stairs, went down to the first floor and crouched down reaching the corner that overlooks the hall.

"The child and the girl with the Mandalorian!" yells a Twi'lek pointing at the receptionist. She answers with our room number.

The machine nods and turns to the front door. Then a group of at least eight Twi'leks and other unfriendly creatures enter the hall ready to go in search of us.

“Shit…” I ran back to our room, closed the door and pushed a piece of furniture against it. We take my things and bring the capsule closer. From my bag I take out the emergency intercom. "Mando!" I call and while I wait I look around the room for some other way out.

“Y/N?" He answers back.

"There is a group of Twi'leks in the hostel, I counted six and other creatures, but I'm sure more are coming,” screams and more shots are heard. "I will not be able to deal with all!” I say agitated.

"Get out of there!”

I roll my eyes-

"Great idea, how did I not think of it?" I go into the bathroom and find a tall window. “Bingo."

"Cyar'ika?"

"I found a way out, but…” Someone knocks on our door. I take the baby and go out the window very carefully.

Only that this time I do appreciate the thick layer of snow. Grogu and I go down smoothly, although running is hard for me.

I return to town and problems chase us. More enemies gen here from every part of the place.

"There!" Someone yells pointing at us.

I don't wait any longer, I put Grogu in my bag and run towards the nearby woods, where at least the snow lets me run more easily.

I hear screams behind me and some shots graze my body. I dodge attacks and trees, but I know this won't work for long. No tree is thick enough to hide us. Only until I get to a recognized part does an idea occur to me.

I deviate from the forest and in the distance I see the Razor Crest, now I just hope not to be wrong.

***

Every part of my body is about to freeze. Inside my sweater, the baby moves and his head pops out.

“I-I don't hear n-nothing. T-it's your turn…” I raise my arm and with what little strength I have left I push the snow around us a little. As soon as any light is visible, I push the baby out so he can get out. "G-g-go f-for-” I complain. “He-help…”

The light increases and I can only feel the little hands of the child trying to remove the snow, at one point he even uses his powers, but it doesn’t take long for a shadow to arrive and now the snow moves with more force.

I raise my head and see the Mandalorian armor.

“Cyar'ika."

"I- I’m- I’m stuck.”

***

As soon as Din scooped me up to the Razor Crest along with the baby, he did his best to warm us up. After a quick, hot shower, I now find myself in front of the radiator with both my and Din's clothes and a warm blanket. But even so, my body doesn't stop shaking.

Grogu is asleep in his hammock, he didn't have so much trouble, I kept him safe before falling into the snow.

Din's footsteps come closer and he sits next to me on the floor in front of the radiator. He raises an arm behind me, but I jump away.

“You'll be better with my body heat.”

I smile thinking of a comment that would make him uncomfortable, but I decide to lose the opportunity for now.

"Y-you, your b-beskar is frozen,” I say pointing to the armor.

“Oh."

Din leaves and after what was maybe half an hour, he returns to his place next to me wearing only a black sweater and pants. This time I let him hold me.

He leans against the wall behind us, settling in to sit me on his lap and wrap me in his arms. I sigh resting my head on his chest.

“It was a great idea what you did. Dangerous and stupid, but it worked,” He says hoarsely without his helmet modulator. Although I have already seen him without it, sometimes he still uses it and only when he’s comfortable does he take it off. Like now.

"N-no, I didn't know what else to do,” I reply. "I-I'm sorry about your work."

"It doesn’t matter. I thought I had lost you,” He tells me tightening his hug. “But I also knew that you would find some way to escape. When I saw Grogu moving the snow, I could breathe again.”

I lift my head and he looks back at me.

"N-no, you won't get rid of u-us so e-easily,” We both laugh and Din leans in to kiss me.

"I don't plan on doing it for a long time, my ka’rta," he replies. Din kisses my forehead and I return to his chest. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, Cyar'ika"

I smile.

"I love you too, Din.”

[storydays]

Season 1, Episode 2, p1

".and in the final round, the Buzzard-Wasps, won with a decisive knock-out." Korra read the newspaper eagerly before peeking over at Tenzin. "What do you say we go to the arena tonight, catch a few pro-bending matches?" She grinned hopefully at the airbender. "That sport is a mockery of the noble tradition of bending." He snapped, ignoring you as your coughed into your morning (tea/coffee/hot chocolate). As intelligent as he is, the man hadn't a clue of where or why you spent so much time in the city. You couldn't keep it a secret from your Aunties, and Aunt Lin or Pema were usually the ones who patched you up.

"Come on, Tenzin, I've dreamed about seeing a pro-bending match since I was a kid, and now I'm just a ferry ride away from the arena." She gestured out towards the city. "Korra, you're not here to watch that drivel. You're here to finish your avatar training. So for the time being, I want you to remain on the island." He took another sip of his tea, as you took another bite of your breakfast. "Is that why you're keeping the White Lotus sentries around to watch my every move?" She waved her hand towards the soldiers, who were standing around the room. "Yes, in order to learn airbending, I believe you require a calm, quiet environment free from any distractions." Tenzin finished sternly.

"All right, you're the master." Korra relented, looking out the window, longingly. It was quite yet tense before you abruptly stood up from the table and stormed off angrily, catching the attention of everyone in the room. "(Y/N)? Where are you going?" Korra asked, confused by your behavior. "Fine! Going to meditate!" You grumble, feeling guilty at your Aunt's concerned look. You quickly made your way to the tree you and your Grandfather planted when you were younger, and sat down, crossing your body into a half-lotus position, breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth, praying for a peaceful session.

Your prayers went unanswered.

--Vision start--

You found yourself watching a middle aged Aang look around curiously. The old monk smiled seeing a small figure curled up on the tip of Air Temple Island, before sitting next to said figure. The two remained silent until the smaller sniffed, and pulled his tunic tighter in its fist. "Are you ready to talk about it, grandson?" You walked closer, to see a young you, look up at him with teary eyes. "Hi, Papa." Younger you sniffled, wiping a tear away. "I'm sorry I left dinner like that." Aang merely pulled you to sit on his lap, and wrapped his cloak around you, waiting patiently for you to say what was wrong, because he knew you wouldn't cry over something so little.

"Now, it's not nice to lie about something so small like that. What's really bothering you, my little monkey?" Aang asked with a mischievous grin. Your (e/c) eyes peered at him from under your bangs. "I'm just scared, of the future." You admitted. "What do you mean?" asked Aang. "When I'm sleeping, I see things. I see the next Avatar, but I can't see their face. I-I know their a waterbender because of their clothes, but that's it. And then I see different endings based on her choices, and the world keeps changing and I am afraid--" "Okay, okay. (Y/N), take a breath, you're hyperventilating. You need to relax, before you pass out. Copy me, alright?"

Aang put your hand on his chest, and mimicked deep breathing. He'd dealt with plenty of panic attacks with the Gaang, and of course with his own kids. Eventually you calmed down and that's when Aang spoke again. "I know the future is scary, and no one can truly prepare for it, but what we can do, is be ready to make the future brighter. And if you're seeing the future Avatar, that must mean your destinies are intertwined tighter than I thought. I know the Spirits have a plan for why they're allowing you to see the future. You've already made us so proud, (Y/N). You're a dual bender, and a master of both air and water at such a young age.

"I know you'll make the world proud." Aang stood up, and began carrying you into the library, as your stomach growled at you. The Airbender laughed, and gestured to two plates of dumplings. "Thanks, Papa Aang." You mumble, curling next to him, as he set a small fire up. "Of course, monkey. Now I believe I owed you the story of how Zuko found his mom.."

--Vision end--

You slowly opened your eyes, as you heard multiple steps heading towards you. Your cousins, Uncle and friend all looked back at you with varying smiles. "(Y/N), are you finished with your morning meditation?" Tenzin questioned. You stood up, stretching your back and legs, before answering him. "Yes, Uncle. Is it time for Korra's first lesson in airbending?" "Yes, now come along everyone." You all headed towards a airbender's best friend. "What is that contraption?" Korra asked aloud. "A time-honored tool that teaches the most fundamental aspect of airbending." You rolled your eyes before muttering to the kids, "Or the first step to airbending. Unless, you preferred the long winded version of saying it." You smirk at Tenzin's irritated face.

"Jinora, would you like to explain this exercise, while (Y/N) demonstrates?" Tenzin said, sending you a raised eyebrow, as you got ready. "Well, the goal is to weave your way through the gates and make it to the other side without touching them." Jinora explained. "Seems easy enough." Korra stated. "Jinora forgot to mention you gotta make it through while the gates are spinning." Ikki said, cheekily.

Tenzin stepped forward and sent a sharp gust of wind through the gates, as you then stepped forward. You then began dancing in the wind, fast, fluid, and soft in your movements. "The key is to be like the leaf. Flow with the movement of the gates. Airbending is all about spiral movements. When you meet resistance, you must be able to switch direction at a moment's notice." Tenzin finished, as you sent an equally strong wind, letting Korra know that it was her turn. "Let's do this." she stated, confident.

Now being a air nomad monk, you shouldn't feel as smug as you were. But your mother was from the Northern Water Tribe...so you could feel as smug as you wanted. This was a lesson she needed to learn to be a better airbender, Avatar, and a person. She ran in head first, grunting as she ran into different gates. You snickered, as she fell on her butt, in front of the other Airbenders. Growling, Korra ran back inside, not learning from her previous mistakes. "Korra, don't force your way through!" Jinora called, climbing on your back, to get a better look. "Dance! Dance like the wind!" Ikki encouraged. "Be the leaf!" Meelo danced.

Not listening, Korra groaned, as the gates made her dizzy. Tenzin rolled his eyes groaning. You chuckle, landing next to him, as Jinora jumped down and went with her siblings to look down at the Avatar. You raised your hand, before turning to your uncle. "Well, that was fun. Same time, same place tomorrow?" Your grin widen at your Uncle's annoyed glare, before walking down the steps, whistling softly, feeling Nevermore land on your shoulder. "Hey Nevermore. Ready for some practice?" The (fav color) dragon squealed happily as you made your way to the training area.

You turned towards the sound of footsteps following you. "Yes, Jinora?" You smiled as she blushed at being caught, but she spoke up. "Well, I was just wondering if I could help you with Nevermore's training today?" She asked hopefully. You nod, gesturing her to come forward. "All right, now we're going to work on her flight today. She's getting bigger and it's almost time for her to mature. I need you to keep a steady wind flow, okay?" And this was how Pema found you both before lunch. "Thanks for your help, Jinora." You ruffled her hair, before helping your Aunt serve lunch.

--Later that night--

You stretch your limbs before putting on your uniform, and walking out with Bolin and Mako. "All right, guys. We got this!" You grin, making Bolin mirror your grin and Mako smirked. As soon as the game started, you could hear the announcer speaking over the speakers. You tuned into what he was saying, letting your body take over for the fight. "Ladies and gentleman, I'm coming to you live, from Republic City's pro-bending arena, where tonight, the best in the world continue for a spot in the upcoming championship tournament. Grab your snacks and your kids because this next match is going to be a doozy!"

You grin underneath your helmet, focusing on the game. The announcer rambled on in the background, as you were dancing behind Mako's quick movements and Bolin's sturdy form. Catching the other team off guard was your forte. "This Mako's got moxie! He advances, fires two quick shots. Yomo is hammered back into zone three, by the Fire Ferret's sneaky waterbender, oh! I stand correct folks, Yomo was sent into the sink by (Your fake name)! Now it's up to the rest of Yomo's team to earn their spot! Clock is winding down, can they hold it? The Fire Ferret's line up to pull out their famous Guilt Triple! One, two, and three and the opposing team is in the drain! The Fire Ferrets are in the championships! They're in the championship!!"

The crowd went wild! Screaming your names, as you all walked off to the locker room, chatting happily. "You really came through with the move, (Y/N)!" Mako chuckled, unwrapping his knuckles, as you ran a hand through your hair, ruffling your bangs, ignoring Bolin's wide eyed stare. "Take a picture, Bo. It'll last longer." You snicker, as he blushed at being caught."Sorry, it's just so cool having a airbending master," He whispered those words softly, "Right in front of me! I wanna see you do it!" He begged, using the puppy eyes on you. "No, Bolin. We already talked about this. No one can know. Now, are you gonna sit there, whining, or are you gonna come eat with us?"

You and Mako were waiting by the door, dressed in street clothes(First outfit; instead of sleeves you have one fishnet glove going up one elbow). You were wearing Water Tribe clothes, and waiting for the Earthbender. Mako snickered, watching his brother get dressed quickly, before following you to a restaurant to relax and act like teenagers for a change. You walk with your hands behind your head, looking at the stars, sighing contently, but you couldn't help but wonder:

'What are we going to do now, Mom?'

--The next morning--

You tied your hair up in a man bun, before dusting off your airbender clothing from any wrinkles, and heading out the door. You'd overslept from how exhausted you were from last night's match, and now you rushed to join your family for morning meditation. "Hey, (Y/N)! We missed you at breakfast." Ikki clung to you like a monkey, as you swung her back and forth. "Hey, Cheeky Ikki. Sorry, I was really tired last night, but I'll grab a quick bite to eat after this." Your Uncle smiled at the scene before clearing his throat. "Nice to see you joining us for meditation, (Y/N). It's been a while." He admitted, as you sat next to Jinora.

"Yes it *yawn* has." You covered your mouth, before grinning sleepily at your uncle's confused glare. "All right, everyone. Begin." He commanded. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply, finding your self, sagging in relief as you did not have a vision around your family. You twitch, hearing Korra shuffle and move around. Korra kept shuffling and you cracked your eyes open, irritation flooding them. "Korra, relax." You snap. "I think I'm doing it wrong." She huffed. "There's nothing to do! Let your mind and spirit be free, for air is the element of freedom." Tenzin reminded her.

Korra laughed sarcastically and you snort quietly. Tenzin was not amused. "Is something funny?" He asked, raising a bushy eyebrow at the two of you. "Yeah, you're telling me to embrace freedom, but you won't even let me listen to the radio. And forget about leaving this island." The blue eyed avatar pouted. "Please, Korra. Look at Meelo, he's able to meditate peacefully." Tenzin gestured to his only son. You snicker, looking at the smallest airbender. "Actually Uncle, I think he's asleep." Meelo snored loudly, as Tenzin balked. "Wait, what? Ahh, at least he's got the relaxing part down.: He tried weakly.

"Whatever. None of this airbending stuff makes any sense to me." Korra grumbled. "Korra, I know it's seems frustrating, but the way he's teaching you, it's not only going to help you airbend, but this will help you learn to be patient, and as the Avatar, peace keeping and patience go hand in hand." You spoke up, as your cousins finished their meditation and you picked a sleepy Meelo.

"Yeah, like you know anything about being the Avatar, (Y/N)." Korra said sarcastically, yet arrogantly. You paused in your steps down the mini temple, and turned your (e/c) glare into the Southern Water Tribe girl. "I know more than you think, Korra." You hiss, storming off with a sleepy Meelo, and an worried Ikki and Jinora.

Korra scoffed, looking at Tenzin.

"What's his problem?" She asked, as his gray eyes barred into her soul. "Korra, you need to apologize once he's calmed down. That was rude, and he was only trying to help you. Just like I am. There will be a time when you will want his help, and he may not be there or want to help you if you continue to act like this. Grow up, girl." Tenzin said, sternly before walking off to find you.

"Please, like he's one to talk." Korra did feel guilty, but was too proud to admit it. But she wasn't dumb enough to find you right now.

Even she doesn't want to be on your bad side.

[let-it-raines]

Walking the Baseline (Year: 2015)

Summary: This should be the happiest he’s been in years, but it’s not. He and Emma already had wildly different schedules, but now that she’s no longer on tour, it feels like they barely see each other. When they do, it’s for a day here, a week there, two if they’re lucky. That’s no way to live when his girlfriend is carrying their baby and freaking out about it more than he is.

If only he could have a bloody break from tennis to focus on his personal life for once.  

He’s got to be careful what he asks for.

Rating: Teen +

a/n: Hello again! I know these have been slow going, but I’m here with another installment! This may or may not be the last one. I haven’t decided on that yet, so we’ll see what happens there as I know there are many more things that could be told in this universe but don’t know how much motivation I have to write them 😘

ao3: 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 (CURRENT) | 2016 (original one-shot) |

Tumblr: 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 (CURRENT) | 2016 (original one-shot) |

-/-

November 2014.

Shit.

“This is bad,” Rob says from across the room, as if that isn’t the most obvious bit of information on the planet right now. “What are you going to do, mate?”

He wants to do a myriad of things, but he can’t right now.

“Play my match and then call Emma and make sure she’s okay.” Killian shrugs and bends down at the knees to squat against the wall. He hits the timer on his phone for a minute, and he tries to focus on that instead of the news Ariel just texted him.

He’s not doing great at that. All these years of being able to block life out before a match have suddenly deteriorated.

“Do you want to call her now?” Robin prods.

“She won’t answer if I call now. Watch.” Killian exits out of the timer and hits Emma’s number on his phone. It rings and rings and rings, and she never answers. He stands from his squat and tries again. Still, no answer. “Emma, darling,” he speaks into the phone, “I’m about to play, so I can’t talk to you anytime soon. I love you. Everything is alright, yeah? We knew this was going to happen at some point, but I’m sorry it happened this way. I’ll call you as soon as I can. You and the babe stay safe, alright?”

“Do you think that’s going to do any good?”

“No,” Killian answers honestly, “it’s not. She’s going to be freaking the hell out, and nothing is going to calm her down, certainly not me.”

He thumbs through his phone once more, looking through his texts and clicking on the links Ariel sent him. It’s pictures of Emma in her neighborhood, which is supposed to be private. That is a lie, though, because someone managed to take pictures of Emma walking to get her mail, her clothes tight enough that the roundness of her stomach is obvious, especially compared to how she usually looks.

It’s not good. Not good at all.

After the US Open, Emma stopped playing, telling the WTA she was out for the rest of the season on injury. A few people know because of how often Emma has to get drug tested, but it’s all been a well-kept secret.

That is no longer true.

Bloody hell.

“Mr. Jones,” the tournament director says when he pokes his head in the warm-up room, “it’s time to go.”

“Aye, I’ll be right there.” He stands from his squat and stretches out his legs, jumping up and down a few times before grabbing his racket bag from the floor. “Rob, get Ariel to try calling Emma while I’m playing. She’s more likely to talk to her than any of us.”

“I’ll try.” Rob nods and claps his hand over Killian’s back. “Good luck in your match. I know it’s a rubber, but don’t be a loser.”

Killian blows air out of his nose with his laugh. “I’ll try not to be a loser. My fucking motto for life.”

-/-

Killian isn’t a loser that day, but he is out of the tournament. He hates the season-ending final, how it’s a round robin event. He lost the same amount of matches as the man who got to advance to the semi-finals but because he lost three more games, he’s packing his bags to go home.

(Though, he didn’t hate it when he won it years ago, but now is not the time to think of his own hypocrisy.)

To his home here in London, half an hour away from the tournament, instead of back in America with Emma. It’s been odd staying here for the past two weeks. For so long, he was used to living here alone. Sure, Ariel and Rob would pop in, especially after Milah, but it was his home. It was a place to sleep and shower and watch television between having to constantly be on the road and in the air. Then Emma came along and though she’s here less frequently, she’s made her mark.

Some of her clothes litter his closet, her mugs fill his cabinets, blankets she has bought are in the baskets in his den. She hasn’t been here since mid-September when they needed to get away for a little while, but she’s still everywhere. Killian has been finding her bobby pins in his carpet the entire time he’s been here.

The only thing of Emma’s that isn’t here is Emma.

The sun has set outside, darkness taking over, and though it’s past midnight in America, Killian presses Emma’s name on his phone as he sets the timer on the oven for his dinner.

“Hello?”

“Now, tell me why you’ll answer your phone at one in the morning but not during daylight hours?”

“Because I’m a stubborn ass with no real sense of time.”

Killian huffs and moves to his living room, plopping down on the couch. “Now, I thought that was me.”

“It is. We both are. It’s why we’re dating.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“Well, I could say other things, but I’m trying to work on my dirty jokes, trying to say fewer of them.”

“Oh, you should never do that. I like when you’re dirty.” Emma’s silent on the other end of the line, and Killian waits for her to speak, to make another joke, to ask him if he could litter this conversation with innuendos. When she doesn’t, he decides it’s better to bite the bullet now than to drag it out. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I want to change what I was wearing to get the mail this morning,” Emma says through gritted teeth. “I don’t know how I could have been so damn stupid.”

“It’s a private area. You thought you were safe. It’s understandable, love. Don’t beat yourself up about it. You were going to have to tell everyone eventually.”

“Eventually being the key word.” She whistles, and if he had to guess, she’s sitting in bed with a tub of icing in her lap and one of her favorite shows on the television. She’ll beat herself up about the icing tomorrow even if she shouldn’t. “Mary Margaret took my phone for a little while so I couldn’t check anything online. That’s why I didn’t answer you when you called earlier. It’s been…a day. I’m sorry you didn’t make it to the semi-finals.”

“Yeah, me too,” he tells her, allowing himself to wallow for a moment. “I get to come home to you sooner, though.”

“I’ve saved the tree for you to help me put up. And Mary Margaret has started on the sides for Thanksgiving. There’s going to be so much food for you to pig out on before off-season training starts.”

He can hear the smile now. Good.

“There’s nothing I’m looking forward to more. I’ve heard there’s such a thing as a dad bod, and I fully intend on getting one this holiday season.”

Emma blows air out her nose. “You and I both know that’s not true. You’re too vain for that.”

“I am devilishly handsome, aren’t I?”

“I’ll let you keep thinking that. Killian?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine. I mean, I’ll be fine. This entire…situation has sucked, but I’m slowly coming around to it. What happens, happens, and I’ll deal with it. If I can get through half the things I’ve gotten through, I can get through a human being growing inside of me and the world knowing about it. I think the hardest part is how bored I am. Do you have any idea what it’s like to constantly be on the move and then for it to suddenly stop?”

“No, I don’t.” He pulls a blanket over his lap to warm him. “I hope I never find out.”

“I hope you don’t either.” Emma yawns, and the corners of Killian’s lips tug up. Maybe this means she’ll try to sleep instead of staying up worrying all night. “I think I’m going to go to sleep. Or at least try.”

“Goodnight, Swan. I love you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

-/-

Killian gets two weeks off in Florida for Thanksgiving and to have a break from training. It’s lovely to do nothing if only for a moment (he would be horrible having to take the extended break like Emma) and to spend it with Emma and her family, but then it’s back to practice and tweaking his game during the off-season.

Rob and Nemo work him harder than they ever have, bemoaning him about his slow legs and his age – he’s nearly twenty-nine, which was once considered ancient in his sport – but he keeps pushing through. Hours are spent on the court and in the gym, and the rest of his days are spent with Emma, going on walks and watching TV in their house. She’s still practicing and going to the gym, even if those are modified to how they were before, and if Killian closes his eyes, it’s almost like normal.

But then, slowly, December passes, Christmas lights everywhere fading a little every day, and Killian is packing several suitcases for the month he’s going to spend in Australia. Three years ago, Australia is where it all began for them, and it’s odd to be going without Emma.

She’s made a rule that most of their conversations have to be about things other than the baby. Part of it is because Mary Margaret overloaded Emma with baby talk. It was constantly about names and clothing and what color the nursery should be painted. If it wasn’t that, it was book after book about pregnancy, hormone changes, and the many processes that happen when giving birth.

Even for Killian, who isn’t particular about medical procedures, that was too much. He loves Mary Margaret as much as Emma does, and while she’s great most of the time, it all has been a little much.

The media attention has been too.

Thus, Emma’s rules. Their lives are supposed to go on as normal with the occasional conversation about the baby, usually when it’s absolutely necessary or when it’s late at night and they’re in bed or lounging on the couch watching TV and Killian’s hand finds Emma’s ever-growing stomach.

He thinks that’s what’s so bloody difficult for him as he zips up his suitcase. He’s going to be gone for a month, and in that month, everything can and will change.

Killian is missing seeing his child grow and missing being with his girlfriend, and as much as he loves what he does, as passionate as he is about having the fucking best job in the world, he would trade it all to not have to give up so much of their lives.

Emma would never let him.

She’d slap him if she knew he was even having these thoughts.

“Do you like this jacket?” Emma asks as she shuffles through their closet next to him. “I mean, I like that it’s red, but do you think it’s too bold?”

Killian turns and looks, glancing up and down at Emma. “I like the red leather.”

Emma nods and smiles, looking at herself in the mirror and tugging the coat over her stomach. “One day again, it’ll zip up.” She rolls her eyes and then begins to take it off, but Killian stops and walks toward her, running his fingers over the lapels until she’s flush against him.

“One day,” he echoes before dipping his head to her neck and running his lips across her jaw, “but for now, I think it’s fine to not have you covered up.”

Emma cranes her neck and makes a nose he’s going to memorize and take with him all the way to Australia. “That was a horrible line. You need to be a better flirt. This isn’t working for me at all.”

His hand falls from her shoulder and slowly makes its way to her ass before he has a firm grip. She makes that noise again, and Killian smirks against her neck.

“Well,” he drawls, making his accent as thick as he can as he nibbles at her ear, “I have forty-five minutes before I have to go. What do you say I use about fifteen of those focusing on you?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Oh, absolutely. I want to take in as much of you as I can while I can.”

“Dirty,” he whispers in her ear before kissing her and walking her out of the closet and back to the bedroom.

-/-

January 2015.

ES: Good luck today, babe! Or tomorrow. I’m not really sure what time it is in Australia, but I do know I will not be awake for your match.

Killian laughs at his phone. He’s been here three weeks, and Emma still hasn’t gotten the time difference down. He figured she wouldn’t be too bad with it since she makes this trip every year, but according to David, he changed all of Emma’s clocks and she never really knows the difference after the first two days.

It’s technically yesterday afternoon back home, or at least it was when she sent this, and he texts her back, thanking her and promising to call after his practice.

He’s got the first night session match in RLA tonight for his quarterfinal match, and if that weren’t three in the morning back home, he knows Emma would be up for it.

He wouldn’t ask anyone to be awake at that ungodly hour for him.

“Have you finished your hair yet?” Ariel asks.

She’s sitting on his bed in his hotel room, has been for an hour even though he definitely did not invite her over, and he’s had to listen to her rambling about sponsorship pitches and contract negotiations and all the things he hates the entire time. So he’s spending a little extra time messing with his hair and shaving his beard. She’s used to this, of course, and probably knows the exact amount of time it’ll take him to get ready better than he does.

“Not quite, love.”

“You know you’re going to put it under a hat and get it all sweaty, right? It doesn’t matter what it looks like.”

Killian shakes his head and puts his razor down before walking out of the bathroom to peek his head over at Ariel. “Are you really that bored that you can’t find something else to do other than bother me?”

She sits up and props herself on her elbows, her red hair flowing down her back, but a small bit gets stuck in her eye. She quickly blows it off. “It’s a big match day, and you’re nervous. I’ve been sent here to keep you occupied so you can’t think about how nervous you are or how much you miss Emma or how much you want to write an entire book of poetry about how much you love her.”

“I have never said that last part,” he counters.

“But you’ve thought it, Mr. Darcy. You and your big ole heart and your obsession with your girlfriend and your baby.”

Killian chuckles and leans against the wall. He crosses his arms over his chest and arches a brow. “Am I not supposed to be in love with my girlfriend and our child?”

Ariel shrugs. “I just think that for someone who loves a woman that much, there might be a ring and a question rattling around somewhere.”

His eyes roll, and outwardly, he deals with the question with annoyance. Inwardly, his heart quickens and he thinks some things he’s been trying not to.

Some things that, well, shake him to his core and make his breathing a little more difficult than normal.

He and Emma have talked about marriage, but it’s always been brief, seemingly inconsequential. It’s something they’d consider a long way down the road, maybe when their lives are normal, when they can profess their love to each other without any professional blowbacks.

With how the game is progressing and how long players are starting to play now, and more than just the top guys, he doesn’t know when that’ll be.

Killian loves Emma. Emma loves him. They’ve both made each other better people and committed to each other and to their unborn daughter, and Killian doesn’t see that ever changing, marriage license or not.

“A,” he whispers, his fingers tapping over his bicep, “Whatever happens with us is as much up to Emma as it is to me. We like how things are now, and I can write a book of poetry on our love no matter if she is my wife or not.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just want to go to that wedding. I feel like it would be the party of a lifetime.”

“Tell you what, I’ll take you to the party of a lifetime when I win this damn tournament. We’ll go clubbing like we both don’t go to bed for ten when we can.”

Ariel winks. “You’ve got yourself a deal. Now, come on, we’ve got things to do, and you’re making us late with all your unnecessary primping.”

“Because I’m that damn good-looking and should accentuate it when I can.”

Ariel rises from the bed wand comes over to pat his shoulder. “Whatever you tell yourself to sleep that night.”

-/-

Killian runs through his practice with ease, and he feels good. He’s seeing the ball clearly, doesn’t feel any aches in his body, and though his opponent has handed Killian’s ass to him on a silver platter many times, he’s feeling good about tonight.

Until he isn’t.

It’s the second set when it happens.

Killian is up a set and has two break points to solidify a lead when he’s running down a forehand and loses his footing on the court. His ankle is the first thing to twist, and before he can think, he’s propelling forward toward the ground.

For the entirety of his life, Killian has been told not to fall on his wrists. It’s the first thing any athlete learns. Hell, it’s the first thing anyone learns, but instinct takes over him in that moment. He’s trying to keep from landing flat on his face, and so he lands on his left wrist.

His fucking left wrist, which has caused him trouble his entire career.

Now, though, as he sits on his courtside chair and the tournament medical examiner touches him, he knows this is worse than any injury he’s had in the past.

Fucking hell, he has to pull out of the tournament.

He doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to play for the rest of the season.

Shit.  

Should have fallen on his face and knocked out his teeth. He could still play with no teeth.

-/-

“It’s a fracture,” a doctor tells him that night as he sits in a hospital bed in nothing but one of those awful paper gowns. “You’ll want to consult with your physicians back in Britain, but I’d say a ten-week recovery at the least, six months at most.”

“That’s not exactly a short time span,” Killian grumbles. “You can’t give me something more exact?”

He shrugs. “I think it’ll most likely be about three months for you, but you won’t know until you start playing again. It’s more the rehab than the recovery that I would worry about.”

“Thank you, Dr. Weissman,” Rob tells the doc, dismissing him before Killian can take the piss out of the man for doing his job. Dr. Weissman nods and leaves the room, and all that’s left are Killian, Rob, and Ariel. Nemo is back at the hotel, probably watching the video of Killian ruining their season over and over again. “How are you feeling, Jones?”

“Just peachy,” he lies, flashing them his brightest smile before it falls. He pushes his hair back and yanks at the strands, pulling hard enough for it to hurt. “Fuck.”

What has he done to himself?

People are playing longer now, but what if he isn’t one of those? What if this is the injury that begins the slow deterioration of his career? The one that whittles him away from a great player to a star trying too hard to hang onto his shine?

He hates himself for even thinking that because it’s conceited and self-loathing and all the other things he’s tried not to be lately. He was the one who had to talk Emma through something similar, to tell her that the pregnancy wouldn’t be the end of her career, that one day she’d be standing at the top of the podium again with a shiny trophy in hand.

It all felt so convincing when he was telling her that.

But he’s also an asshole who can seldom take his own advice.

And what Emma is going through is much harder than what he is, so how dare he even compare the two situations?

Seriously.

Fuck.

-/-

February 2015. 

David picks him up at the airport in Florida, but it could have been a stranger and Killian wouldn’t know the difference. He’s been moping on a plane for twenty-four hours and doesn’t notice much of anything.

That is until he walks in the front door of his home and is wrapped in the tightest embrace he’s ever felt. Emma, like always, smells of vanilla and flowers, and he inhales her scent. It’s been a month without it, and he never wants to lose it again. Her hand comes into his hair, scratching down to his skull, and she pulls him as close as possible, her stomach pressed between them. She’s seven months along now, was six when he left, and the difference feels almost impossible to describe.

He tries not to think of all he’s missed, not when he’s back in her arms once more.

What a beautiful place to be.

He’s thought that his world was falling apart, that he had no control over anything, and it was one disaster after another.

As his uninjured arm run up and down Emma’s back and he continues to breathe in her scent and her warmth, he’s reminded that his world, the most important one, is more solid than it’s been since he lost Liam.

If his brother could see him in this moment, even when his mind and body are at low points, Killian would hope that Liam would be proud of Killian’s accomplishments instead of disappointed in Killian’s failures.

“I missed you,” Emma whispers against his cheek.

“I missed you, too, Swan. You have no idea how much.”

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.” His hand comes to rest in her ponytail. “I promise I will be.”

-/-

The world seems to stop for the both of them, and it’s not just because Killian spends his first week at home moping in bed, watching more TV than he has in years. Emma joins him, lounging with her legs crossed over his, basically using his body to make herself comfortable when her back is sore, and if it weren’t for food delivery services, they likely wouldn’t eat. Well, at the very least, they wouldn’t eat any proper meals. Emma’s doctor wouldn’t like that.

Killian’s doctor, on the other hand, has encouraged him to stay active but to rest his wrist. He’s not supposed to pick up a racket except to lightly hit a few forehands, and he definitely isn’t supposed to do any weight work in the gym lest he wants his arms to become horribly unbalanced.

It’s a change in lifestyle, and Killian hates it.

He obviously still hates himself because he spends a hell of a lot of time online looking at articles and tweets about the Australian Open. Half of them are about him, half are about the eventually winners, and a small sprinkling are about how Emma couldn’t defend her title because of her pregnancy.

That sends him into another spiral, and in the darkness of their bedroom, he reads article after article about how Emma Swan will never come back to the game, about how she’s ruined her career, about how if she does come back, she shouldn’t have a protected ranking because pregnancy is not an injury and does not merit any help in building back a ranking.

Absolute bullshit.

How is the WTA the largest sports organization for women and yet it has no pregnancy protections for its players?

That sets him off more than anything else, and as Killian reads article after article and tweet after tweet, and he hopes to God that Emma hasn’t spent her nights reading this like he has.

What kind of darkness has he stumbled into, and how does he get out of it?

“Get up.”

Killian groans and rolls over, burying his face in his pillow and trying to go back to the sleep he didn’t know he’d fallen into. His head is screaming at him.

“KJ, get up.” He feels Emma’s hands on him, shaking his shoulders, but he ignores her. The last thing he wants to do is open his eyes and get out of bed. “My water broke.”

He immediately flips over and sits up, staring at Emma who is standing over the bed with her arms crossed over her chest. “Are you serious? What are you doing just standing there? Have you called your doctor? It’s too soon for your water to have broken.”

Her eyes roll. “My water did not break. It’s noon, and you’re still in bed. Get up.”

“Now, that’s just cruel. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I didn’t expect for you to be coherent enough to really listen.” Emma sits down on the edge of the bed and leans in to kiss his cheek and brush his hair back. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Now I’m never going to believe you if you tell me your water has broken.”

Emma shrugs. “Next time I say it, I promise I will mean it.” Her hands wander down his side, moving over his collarbones and through tufts of hair on his chest. She’s always fond of doing that. “Look, I get the moping and the internet doom scrolling. I’ve been through that, and I support you doing whatever you need to do.”

“I feel like there’s a but coming.”

“But,” Emma continues, “this baby girl is coming in two months, possibly less, and I don’t know if you’ve looked in the nursery since you got home, but it’s all boxes and disassembled furniture.”

“You didn’t get to all that while I was gone?” She yanks on his hair, and he grits his teeth to keep from yelping. “Only teasing, love.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t get to it. All of this baby stuff freaks me out and after putting together one railing for the crib and having a hormonal meltdown because I didn’t want it to be my fault if the crib fell apart while she was sleeping in it, I stopped. Figured it’d be better if you were here.”

“So that it’d be my fault if the crib fell apart?”

“Exactly.” She tilts her head toward the bedroom door. “I made you coffee, so get your ass out of bed and lend me a hand.”

He raises his broken, wrapped up wrist. “Was that pun intended?”

“Believe it or not, no.” She leans in to kiss his cheek once more. “I’m not going to kick you while you’re down.”

“You’re just going to kick me out of bed.”

“Exactly.”

His legs slowly drag him out of bed and to the kitchen, where he takes the pain medication he’s allowed to take, downs some water, and drinks his coffee. It’ll be awhile before the caffeine and medication kick in, so he tries to blink himself awake to get rid of the sleepiness and the pain.

It doesn’t work.

He does, however.

Emma’s been up for awhile and has moved all the boxes in the nursery into their own sections. It’s just as chaotic as it was before, but it at least looks a little more put together. Killian settles down in front of the crib, reads through the instructions, and he starts piecing things together while Emma works on the dresser. She flits around the room, helping him when he needs it, and as much as he’d like to say they finish quickly, they don’t. It takes them all morning just to do those two pieces of furniture and for him to fix the roller on the glider, and he’s exhausted.

Maybe he can convince Emma to take a nap with him later.

After he exercises. He has to move a little today. His body hasn’t been this stiff on a non-tournament day in ages.

Okay, so maybe nap first, then exercise. That sounds like a better plan.

“What the bloody hell is this doing in here?” Killian asks. He bends down and picks up Emma’s gold medal, dangling it on his arm, which is a much safer space than the floor under a stack of books where it was.

“Oh, yeah,” Emma hums, “Mary Margaret wanted me to display that in here.”

“Why?”

“Well, she wanted me to put some of my trophies in here, but I said that was weird and probably a little dangerous. But then she suggested we do, like, this little wall collage of some things about us for her. That’s the achievement I’m proudest of, at least professionally, and I figured it would be kind of badass for my kid to know her mom was an Olympian.”

“Is,” Killian corrects while he walks toward Emma and tucks some strands of hair behind her ear. “Her mom is an Olympian. Present tense.”

Emma shakes her head and looks away, eyelids covering those beautiful green eyes of hers. “Was. I don’t know if I’ll ever get back to competition, Killian. I’ve been reading what exactly my body is going to go through, which, big mistake by the way, and I don’t know how I’m going to get back into competition shape to work my way back up to the top. I spent most of my life conditioning my body to be an athlete. I don’t think it knows how to be a mom and an athlete.”

“You’re always going to be an Olympian and an athlete,” he promises, meaning every word, “and it’s not going to be easy getting back. The cards are fucking stacked against you. But if there’s anyone who can persevere through hardship, it’s you. And me and the babe will be right here with you.”

“Except you’ll probably be back on tour traveling again. Hopefully your wrist will be healed soon, way before she comes.”

Killian leans forward and dips his head down to rest his forehead against Emma’s. “I’m staying with the two of you for as long as I can. Can’t get rid of me that easily, Swan. You’re stuck with me for life.”

“That isn’t as appealing sounding as you think it is.”

Killian tilts his head back with laughter before kissing Emma’s temple. He still hasn’t brushed his teeth this morning and has some major coffee breath. He’s surprised she hasn’t kicked him out of the house yet. She surely will if he attempts to kiss her.

“Let’s install these shelves and then go take a nap, yeah? Get rid of all our fears for a little while with sleeping. Maybe we’ll even go for a walk tonight since the neighborhood is now extra secure.”

“Sounds like a plan, KJ. Oh,” Emma gasps, moving away from him and reaching into a basket to pull out an old book. “I meant to tell you this, but I was shopping for books online and I found one from when I was a kid. I used to read it in the foster system, and I don’t know, it would bring me comfort. I thought maybe it would be a good name for her.”

She hands him the book, and he looks over the cover, reading the words written in large print.

“Olivia,” he whispers, sounding out the name on his tongue. “Olivia Swan-Jones.”

He can’t wait to meet her.

And he can’t wait for her to see what a badass her mom is, and how Emma is definitely going to stand at the top of that podium again.

Hopefully he is too.

-/-

-/-

tag list: @capthamm​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @klynn-stormz​ @scarletslippers​ @jrob64​ @snowbellewells​ @therealstartraveller776​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @sherifemma​ @galaxyzxstark​ @galadriel26​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @nikkiemms @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @superchocovian​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @marrtinski​ @mayquita​ @mariakov81​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @tornadoamy​ @cluttermind​ @lfh1226-linda @itsfabianadocarmo​ @iam2307​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @kktabjones​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @ouatxxxxx​

[generalfoolish]

Feel The Heat

Part Three: Architect

Rating: 18+ (minors take a hike)

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, implied drinking and driving (hey! don't do this!), some making out, mentions of sex but no actual sex, and some trauma reflection.

Word count: 3k

Pairing: Frankie “Fish” Morales x OC Juniper Collins

Summary: Idiocy continues. June and Frankie have a date, and a sleepover.

A/N: Hey babes! Sorry for this one in advance. She's not my best. She's also a hundred percent filler. We love her because she's necessary, though. I know it's a little shorter, but I have finals and a million other ideas keeping me from putting the work in. Also, I kind of like where I left it. Feel free to yell at me. Enjoy, anyway 💕

Masterlist | Part Two | Part Four

June took another sip of the wine, she had nearly drained the bottle; and she didn’t even want to know what number beer Frankie was on, but it was good. They had been propped up in the restaurant for long enough that the waiter stopped coming over.

“So what’s Fish about? I’m dying to know.” She asked brazenly, her cheeks tinged pink from the wine, and though her lipstick was long gone, her lips were stained red.

“Ah, I was wondering if you were gonna ask. It’s...not interesting.” He finally said, and they both laughed. “I like to fish, and the spot I go to has a bunch of catfish. I’ve been that way since forever, and in basics the name just stuck. Catfish, that is. The guys shortened it later to just Fish, which is...unfortunate.” June leaned forward on her elbows, and listened. She realized she was in trouble. This man could make anything sound interesting.

“Why’d they need to shorten it? Catfish is pretty easy to say.” She mused, more to herself than him. He took a sip of his beer.

“It was in spec ops, and it was just a mouth full during the shit.” He told her, glancing down. She took the hint.

“Do you eat catfish? I don’t really like it.” She admitted.

“What? No, that can’t be right. It’s great.” He laughed, and took another sip.

“Yeah, great if you love eating a muddy bottom-feeder.” She retorted, rolling her eyes.

“You like shellfish? Lobster? Because, I got news for you.” He said, smirking, and she laughed.

“Can you cook it?”

“Of course, I can.” He scoffed.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to cook some for me.” She teased lightly, the alcohol swimming in her mind.

“No way.” He said flatly. Her face fell, and he continued. “You want to eat it, you gotta catch it first.” She grimaced and shook her head.

“Not so much for fishing.” She explained, dropping her eyes from his gaze.

“What do you do then? Besides, follow my every movement.” He added playfully and she laughed.

“I took up gardening recently.” She reminded him, tilting her wine cup towards him. Samantha wasn’t too far off, he was pretty great.

“It’s a little late in the season, to start.” He told her gently. She squared her shoulders before letting them fall.

“Yeah. I had this great plan, until I thought about it at all. Day drinking has gotten me into more difficult spots though.” She huffed out a laugh. “See, there’s this grumpy farmer I wanted to impress. I wanted to...well, it sounds stupid now, but I wanted to prove that I wasn’t just a pretty face. I was going to bring you something I had grown.” She laughed, and wiped her eyes. “I didn’t think about growing seasons, or the fact that it takes a miserably long time for anything to actually grow.” He laughed with her easily, and she smiled.

“I can’t wait to see what you grow, and I hope you’ll consider me when you have to give most of it away so it doesn’t spoil.” He chuckled, but she could tell he was being earnest.

“I also write.” She blurted out. She was looking to change the subject before it got too deep, before they could get tangled in the implications, and the first thing that came to mind was something she hadn’t told anyone. Ever. The only person who knew she wrote was her publicist, and even she knew June under her pseudonym. She flushed, and tried to backpedal. “I mean it’s not a big deal. It’s really just like not a big deal at all.” He studied her face carefully, before speaking.

“Sounds like not a big deal,” He repeated, each word weighted. “But, if you ever want to tell me about it, I would love to hear.” He smiled and leveled his gaze at hers. She felt incredibly stupid for even bringing it up, but he had managed to give her a graceful out. She wondered if she shouldn’t tell him. She had no idea if this was even a date anymore, and she wanted the weight off her chest. She squared her shoulders again.

“Okay, you drug it out of me,” she laughed, and downed her glass. “I am a published author and no one in my real life knows.” She didn’t follow up. Her words hung in the air, heavy and bloated, before he cleared his throat.

“Why would you share that with me?” The confusion was apparent on his face, and it wasn’t what she was expecting. He looked incredibly touched at the gesture, as if she had just given him access to her most intimate secrets. She paused, and realized dumbly that she had. She had absolutely just revealed to him what might be her darkest secret; and as tame as it was, it was hers.

“I don’t really know.” She said flatly. She felt odd though, as she didn’t regret it. In fact, she felt relieved. “It feels good though.” She assured him.

“What have you published?”

“A half dozen novels about cowboys.” She told him, lamely.

“Cowboys?” He asked with a smile dancing on his lips.

“Cowboys.” She repeated with her own coy smile. “It’s a series, and it is not popular. But, I love it, actually.” She continued, a little bashful. “I lost money the first few years, but sales are actually picking up. I’ll never make my living that way, but I love it just the same.” Her cheeks were blazing hot, and  she finished in a whisper. He nodded, feeling that much closer to her.

The waiter came over to tell them that they should leave, and the pair laughed at how long they’d been sitting and talking. June was disappointed to bring the night to a close, but knew she had class in the morning. Frankie walked her to her car, and leaned heavily against it.

“You going to be alright to drive home?” She asked, watching him sway slightly.

“No.” He told her flatly, a chuckle following. “I’ll get a cab.” She rolled her eyes.

“How old are you? Get in, I’ll take you home.” She told him, pulling him around to the passenger side. He fought her a little.

“I’m out of the way, I don’t want you to have to back track.”

“Fine, we can go back to mine, and in the morning I’ll drop you by your truck. This is on my way.” The proposition was out in the world before she considered it. The words were hanging between them before she had a chance to worry the details out. It seemed simple enough, but the implications went deeper than she was ready to admit. Her worries were confirmed when she heard him suck in a sharp breath.

“I’d hate to impose…” He trailed, but she was already unlocking her car and shoving him in.

~~~

“Of course, I’ll take the couch, you’re my guest.” She told him, huffing in finality. He crossed his arms. Frankie had only barely agreed to the sleepover; he wasn’t getting bullied in the sleeping arrangement.

“No way. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch in your own home.”

“The couch is comfy, though. I slept there last night.”

“All the more reason you should get a proper night’s rest in your bed.” They glared at each other, and Frankie won. Or, so he thought.

“Fine. We’ll both sleep on the couch.” His laugh was sharp and loud, ripped out without warning. He wasn’t sure if it was the booze, but everything June had said had warmed his insides.

“That’s reasonable.” He agreed, and without thinking too much about the movement, he pulled her to the couch with him. He had meant for it to be smooth, and maybe a little romantic. Instead, it was messy and tangled, but when she landed face to face with him it was hard to argue his methods. He felt her breath on his lips, and he leaned forward, testing the waters, and skimmed his lips against hers. She responded in kind, pressing her lips to his with more urgency.

Frankie shifted June so that he was seated and she was straddling him. He pushed back into her kiss, and deepened it slightly. He ran his tongue against her lips, and when she parted them, he slipped his tongue in, tasting and exploring inside her mouth. He licked under her tongue, sucking it slightly, and managed to pull a soft moan from her. He pulled back for air, and noted how her pupils were blown black with lust, her bright eyes darkened. He wondered for a second if his own were so dark, and then she was on him again. She kissed and licked down his jaw and neck, before focusing on his ear. She nibbled the lobe, licked and sucked the sensitive skin around it.

When she pulled away, he almost whined at the loss. She was panting a little, and already swinging her leg off of him. He frowned at her movements, but didn't stop them. She sat heavily beside him, and pecked his cheek.

"Not that I don't want to continue...I just don't think it's a great idea. We've both been drinking, and it's a school night." The realization hit her like a brick wall. "Crap! Frankie! Do you need to get home to Liv?" He chuckled in response, which let her calm down a bit.

“No, she’s at a friend’s house tonight.” June breathed a sigh of relief, and Frankie felt his lips tug up. “Thanks for checking, though.” She nodded, and he just waited, not sure what she wanted next. He hoped it was more than making out. She cleared her throat and faced him, and he felt his smile fall. She looked too serious for anything light., and he braced for impact.

“The way I see it, Frankie, is we have two options here. One, we go upstairs, and I fuck you out of my system.” He inhaled sharply, and swallowed heavily. He could have laughed, if he wasn’t so shocked. “Option two, I go upstairs, alone, and tomorrow I take you to your truck. After that, maybe we can have another dinner...or maybe I’ll go fishing with you.” He did chuckle at her scrunched up face, this time. He considered her options for a moment.

“Why not a third, where both options play out?” He was teasing, mostly. Mostly, he assured himself.

“Well, that doesn’t work for me. I have had too many option three relationships take a nosedive, and I want to give this a chance. But, if you’re not interested in seeing where we could go, then let’s get on with the fun part.” He studied her face, etching every crinkle and freckle to memory. It was so intimate, he realized, being this close without touching. He wanted to take her upstairs. He didn’t really want to even take her upstairs, the couch was fine. She had been burning him since they had met, and he had had every opportunity to reach out and extinguish it. He hadn’t, and he knew why. He knew they could have something here. He had just spent hours with her, and he was already missing her presence. It wasn’t a choice he had to think hard about. He wanted to see her again. But, he wanted her tonight.

He leaned in and kissed her lips gently, pulling away before it could turn into anything more.

“Option two, please.” He noticed her eyes light up, but restrained himself. He could just kiss her all night, if she’d let him. He watched her leave the couch and disappear into another room. He took the opportunity to steady his breathing, and hopefully, calm himself down. She returned with an armful of blankets and pillows. He took them from her, and she stepped away, putting more distance between them than necessary.

“I have some old pajama shorts and a t-shirt from an ex, if you would like something more comfy to sleep in.” She offered, tossing a thumb behind her. He nodded as he made up the couch, not watching her disappear upstairs. She came back quickly and handed them off. He tried not to imagine who had left these behind, which option they had picked.

“Goodnight, Frankie. Kitchen is that way if you need water or anything. Bathroom is there, and I apologize for not having more sleepover supplies, it’s been...awhile.” She apologized, laughing. He waved her off.

“Goodnight, Ms. Collins. Sweet dreams.” He watched her retreat slowly upstairs before turning back to the couch. He was in trouble.

~~~

June tossed for a few hours before relenting. She’d never get to sleep otherwise, she told herself as she slipped her hand beneath her cotton shorts. No, she was too worked up, she reasoned as she made contact with her clit. She came hard in only a few minutes, thinking about how hard Frankie had been against her on the couch. She had been frantic, trying to slow them down, for her own sake. She was already falling hard for him; she didn’t need amazing sex to be the last nail in her coffin. She felt like she knew him, intimately, already. It was ridiculous, she kept reminding herself. It was someone who she had only met less than a week ago. She shouldn’t have invited him into her house. She didn’t need to see him in the morning light to confirm her fears. She had moaned his name into her pillow as she came; no, she knew just what she was in for.

She groaned as she remembered what she had said. “Fuck you out of my system?” She whispered again in the dark, cringing. Who was she? She didn’t talk like that. She taught six year olds. She tried to breathe deeply, and not go into a full-blown panic attack. How had she never gotten any better at flirting? She was grown, she could hook up and still have a relationship.

June squeezed her eyes shut against the memories threatening to crowd her, and reasoned she had made the better choice. They had been drinking, and it was too convenient. Hopefully, he didn’t think she was a psycho for inviting him over, making out with him hard, and then turning him down cold. Well, not cold, but lukewarm. She groaned again. Why was she acting like a teenager? She never fretted like this. Her mom’s cold words flashed in her mind, and she shuddered against them, willing them away. Too late, she thought about Terry.

Terrance, the one who had convinced her to move away from everyone. The one who had promised her everything, and then left her empty. The one who had no kind words or touches for her. The one who had left the taste of rust in her mouth.

She blinked against the tears, and tried to think about Frankie downstairs instead. All she could remember was the gruffness at the farmer’s market, the harsh words at the school, the disappointment in his eyes at dinner, and the coldness after she had turned down sex. She hugged herself tighter and tried to think about the soft touches he had given, the tender kiss, the personal stories, and the deep laugh she was falling in love with.

It was no use, she decided. Mid-spiral, she wasn’t good enough for anyone. She was glad she hadn’t invited him up. She was glad she wouldn’t be used by another man. She would drop him off in the morning, and then that would be that. If she didn’t start loving herself, no one would.

~~~

Frankie stretched against the soft material as light started trickling in through the blinds. He could hear the birds outside, and he whistled softly in tune. He folded the bedding, and padded to the kitchen.

After looking around a bit, he settled on coffee and pancakes. He had noticed the canned tomatoes in the cupboard, and made a note to ask June if they were the ones she had bought from him. He got busy mixing the pancakes together while the coffee brewed. He hadn’t slept so good in years. He had expected a sore back, at least, but that damn couch was probably better than his lumpy old mattress. He cut some berries up, while the pancakes were frying, and smiled as he heard June walk in.

“Morning!” He greeted, cheerfully. She winced, and he let a small chuckle out. “Sorry, uhm, coffee’s ready.” She nodded, but didn’t say anything else. He turned back to the oven, wondering if she just wasn’t a morning person. He noticed she felt colder this morning, and hoped it was because she was hungover.

“You were right about the couch, super comfortable.” He told her as she settled in at the counter. She only nodded, which he barely caught. He turned to face her, one hand on his hip and the other holding the spatula.

“Everything okay?” She nodded again, and he frowned. Something was definitely wrong, but if she wasn’t telling him what could he do. He made her a plate of pancakes and berries, and made one for himself. He sat down beside her, and she ate in silence. In fact, she didn’t say anything to him until they made it back to his truck.

“Have a nice day.” She had mumbled, her lips tight. He gaped a bit before getting out, and slamming the door a little harder than he had meant to. He got into his truck as she sped off, and he slammed the door.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked the steering wheel.

“Whatever,” He said, tightly, throwing the truck into drive.

[67impalaandwhisky]

Destiny Is Heaven Sent

Summary: Knowing Dean Winchester since you were fifteen, you’ve always been pulled in his direction. Always wanting to open up the rattled and broken cage your heart lives in. But when the child you’ve been raising together dies, you find yourself closing up the cage of your heart again. And if destiny has one thing for you, it’s to break you down before bringing you back up.

Characters: Dean x You, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, OFC’s, OMC’s, (Ongoing)

This Series Is Set Through Seasons 1-6 With Knowledge That The Bunker Exists

Rating: 18+

Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Grieving, Mentions of Rape and Defilement (As Per A Case), Show Level Violence, Swearing, Smut, Impreg Kink, Blood, Fighting, Drinking, Dean Being Dean, Fluff, Angst, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader

Warnings For This Chapter: Physical Violence, Angst, Fluff

Chapter 6.

Cold couldn't even begin to describe the night you two met. 

Left alone at the Right Swing Motel, you had done all your father said to do until he came back. You would only answer the door when you heard the secret knock. You put salt on every surface and even cleaned a gun or two as old sitcom reruns berate your ears through the fuzzy television screen. 

Being left alone in old dingey motels didn't bother you as much as it used to. You've practically grown up in these small rooms that house two twin beds and water stained ceilings. You've gotten used to eating whatever junk you could get out of the vending machines and drinking whatever soda was cheapest-- usually Tab. 

But, you never got over being alone on holidays. That bothered you still. There were holidays like Thanksgiving and Easter that your mom would brush your hair with a special brush over one hundred times until it was shining like brand new. That's a memory that has branded into the cortex of your very being. 

Or, when your mom used to put on Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer every Christmas Eve and let you sip her spiked eggnog before telling you to keep it a secret from your dad. 

Your eyes flicker over to the brush that you hold dear and it's a hard lump to swallow as you stare at the cheap and peeling wallpaper of your room.

Maybe if you just leave, for just a minute you'll be alright. If you just get a snack from the vending machine and a soda… Get some fresh air… Your dad would never know. He'd never find out.

You shove your knife into your combat boot before grabbing a few dollars and opening the door just a smidgeon to not break the salt line before worming your way through the small crack.

Your feet are silent and quick as you wrap your sheepskin jacket tighter around your body. Maybe you'll get a Twix bar and if you can afford it, a can of Coke. 

The gentle breeze that blows through your hair doesn't make you stop short, it's the sounds of feet that accompany it that do.

Tilting your head, you grip at your thigh high combat boot before slowly wrapping your hand around your knife. 

"Stupid." You murmur about yourself before continuing to walk to the vending machine.

You can hear the feet continue to follow you and your heart begins to beat so fast due to nervousness you can hear it in your ears.

Shakily you take the money out of your pocket with your free hand and feed it into the vending machine. You can see a shadow looming behind you on the ground and it inches closer and closer as you input D-7 into the large machine.

With a shaky sigh, you pull the knife from your boot before whirling around and grabbing the assailant by the arm. Tugging the body back and jamming him up against the machine, you press the knife to his throat as you bare your teeth at him.

"Why are you following me!?" You bark out as he holds a knife back up to your throat.

His eyes are as green as the forest on a summer's day. His handsome face smattered with freckles as he gives you a sly grin. His chest beneath your arm is rippled and smooth and you press the knife tighter as he slowly brings his hand up to his lips cautiously.

Tugging his upper lip upwards, he shows you hole-free gums before looking at your neck. The demon warding necklace you wear makes him raise an eyebrow and he begins to smile as he pulls the knife away from your throat.

"Dean Winchester. Wanna share that Twix with a handsome stranger, sweetheart?" 

You heard every earnest word that fell from your best friends lips last night. You didn't know he felt any sort of way about you like that. He made it very known since you were younger than nothing would ever go on between the both of you.

Which is why you pushed down the feelings you've been marinating inside of your chest for forever.

Dean is usually really good at pretending that things never happened. Especially deep and meaningful talks or...practically anything that showed his raw emotion. But, this morning after last night, he was awkward and odd like when you were kids. You could hear Sam and Dean shifting around the motel room silently until the decided to go get breakfast. Leaving you on your lonesome to heal.

Sitting up in bed, you groan loudly. Your body feels like you've been in twenty car accidents in the span of one very vengeful spirited evening.

"Hey, Cas. I'm sorry to bother you but I need a little help here." You call out in the empty motel room.

You shakily grab the water that has been left for on the bedside table as you let out a gentle whimper before hearing wings flutter.

"Hello, Y/N." You hear from the corner of the room and you give him a gentle smile in return.

"You're hurt." He says, concern riddling his voice as his trench coat shifts with his legs.

With a grimace, you nod to him as you lean up against the headboard of the motel bed.

"Yeah...I took a beating last night and I know you aren't only good for healing but I wanna help the boys finish this j-" Before you can even finish his hand is on you, the blueish-white light radiates throughout your chest and your body feels warm and safe. Taking his hand away, you feel brand new and you crack your neck loudly before sighing happily.

"Thanks Cassy." You whisper and he gives you a gentle smile before standing back up.

"I thought you called me for other reasons." He mumbles, but you still catch it as you take another gulp of water.

Raising an eyebrow, you fold your arms after setting down the glass of water. "And those other reasons would be?" You ask him.

It's not rare to see deer in headlights Castiel but it's a sure tell that he's hiding something.

"Oh...Just about...this case. Yes, this case you're working." He averts his eyes from yours as your eyebrows raise questionably.

"Cas… you wanna tell me what's going on?" You ask slowly, standing to your full height which is still shorter than his by all accounts.

He grunts nervously as he looks around the room as if to find any reason as to why he should leave.

"Castiel." You call to him quickly and he opens his mouth.

"If you fly out of here I will summon you in a ring of holy fire and make you talk to me. So fess up. There's no lying between family. I told you this already." You say, venom enlacing your voice as you step towards the angel.

"Yes. I'm aware. I'm sorry." He says before sitting down on Sam's bed with a huff.

"What are you hiding from me?" You ask gently as you sit beside him.

"The truth. About you and Dean." His voice is serious and you crane your neck towards him as if you could hear him better that way.

"Come again?" You grumble.

"Dean has been making me keep it a secret from you. And, I am truly sorry." He says and you snap your fingers quickly as your brain starts to become jumbled and confused.

"What secret? Just tell me." You whine before looking out the window to see if the Impala was coming back.

The angel's hands wipe nervously at the knees of his pants before looking you in the eyes.

"You and Dean. You are destined to be together. Like how, John and Mary Winchester were destined. You and Dean are as well. It's been going over the angel radio for years but then it stopped and now it's back. Dean doesn't want to be with you because-" 

"Because he doesn't do destiny and he doesn't do anything that is forced of him." You finish before running your hands through your hair.

You feel as if you've been punched in the gut. 

"And he's been hiding this from me?" You ask Cas as he stands back up.

He nods to you slowly, "Yes. Dean has been trying very hard to keep this destiny thing away from you. He doesn't want you to feel hurt. He's known about it since he was a teenager." 

You scoff loudly before closing your eyes. 

Is that why he's always been just that much more distant from you? Why he batted down your advances when you were younger? All because of this stupid prophecy?

That's the problem with Dean Winchester. He will do anything and everything in his power to make something nonexistent if HE deems it will save the other person. He never thinks of how others will feel in the end. As long as he does what he thinks is right, then that's the end of any conversation or action.

You can hear the Impala's loud engine as it pulls back into it's parking spot.

"Thanks Cas." You tell him and he nods before taking off.

It's not something you can wrap your head around so easily.

You were destined to be his and he's pushed you away so severely all these years. All because of what? That God wants you to be together? 

Is he fucking serious?

The motel room door swings open and your hands clenched into fists as your older best friend strides into the room.

"Morning, Candy girl. I got you pancakes!" Dean cheers as he sets the food and coffee down on the small table by the window.

Just even looking at him makes you sneer.

"Sammy." You call as he shuts the door.

His eyes slowly land on you as you stand up.

"Why don't you go take a walk?" You ask slowly as you crack your neck.

He swallows thickly and Dean's eyes look over at you sharper than a whip.

"Okay." Sammy says quickly, grabbing his coffee and scurrying out the room.

"What's wrong?" Dean asks as the door slams shut.

"You." You seethe through clenched teeth before grabbing his tee-shirt and slamming him into the motel wall.

"WHOA!" Dean yells as he grips onto your shoulders.

Looking up into his evergreen eyes, you can feel your gut churning and squeezing inside of you.

"How dare you?" You whisper venomously as you beat your fists into his chest.

He groans loudly, his head lolling back against the floral printed wall as he pushes you away from him.

"How dare I what?!" He yells, shoving you away.

Your bare feet dig into the carpet beneath you. Your grip on him tightens and he grimaces a bit at the painful clenching of your fists.

"How dare you decide what is best for me." You say. Shoving him with your whole weight, he stumbles before the back of his knees hit the bed. He wobbles slightly before falling onto his back as you advance at him.

"You wanna clue me in on what the fuck is going on right now?!" He barks out as he grips your hips roughly as you straddle him.

You give a short chuckle, one devoid of any true humor as he keeps you in place with his large hands. 

"Cas came and he told me. He told me this secret you've been keeping all the goddamn years I've known you." You admit to him. His hands falter from your hips to your thighs as he takes in your words.

His jaw muscles tighten and his eyes narrow at you--the simple action taking your breath away from the recesses of your chest.

"Goddammit Cas." He growls before flipping you onto your back so he is above you.

He pins your arms at your sides before locking them in place with his knees, "Y/N. Now, you listen to me-"

"No! I'm sick to death of it! Do you know that I've liked you since we were fifteen? Do you have any idea how hurt I was that you made me feel like I meant absolutely nothing to you?" 

His hardened eyes soften, the forest green irises with pretty flecks of new day yellow bore into yours as you yell up at him.

"Why don't you fucking get it?! You've pushed me away because of some stupid destiny?!" You yell at him, wriggling underneath his body as his eyes flutter shut.

"I'm protecting you from...from-"

"You're not protecting anyone! I'm a grown ass adult, De! You're doing what you think is best. Because if I know one thing, one thing at all, it's that Dean Winchester does whatever the fuck he wants because he thinks it's best and everyone else just better fucking hop aboard or they're cast to the wayside!" You counter as he sighs gently.

"All that stuff last night, the whole 'I don't want to stay away from you anymore' bullshit. Was that a lie? Was that to protect me?" You bark out.

His eyes snap open, his lips parting before scoffing as he bends down.

"No it wasn't a fucking lie! I meant that shit, Y/N! I've been trying so fucking hard to act like myself around you-- to act like I'm not worried about you every damn second of the day!" He says as he presses his hands to your shoulders.

"So what then?" You ask as his hand reaches up to caress your cheek.

He lets his thumb graze your cheekbone before taking a deep inhale through his nose. You can see the way his pupils dance back and forth that his brain is wracking for answers. 

"Don't push me away, De. Not this time." You practically beg of him. 

He leans over you to grab the whisky bottle on the bedside table. He spins the top off before taking a large chug, the brown alcohol coats his lips and throat before he grimaces at the burn. 

He holds the bottle out to your lips and you part them softly to accept his offer. He tilts the bottle gently and you hum to him that you've had enough before swallowing and cringing at the burn yourself.

Sitting back on his heels, he runs his hands through his hair before sighing.

"It started with my dad. He always told me that you and I were meant to be. That...That you came into my life for a reason and I should be grateful to have someone so perfectly made for me." He smirks to himself, the corner of his lips flicking upward before he takes another sip of alcohol. 

"And, I couldn't have agreed more. Y'know? From the second you took charge when we met and you put that blade to my neck, I thought 'Wow. This girl, she's exactly what I want.' You were fearless and beautiful. Passionate and powerful." He chuckles to himself and your heart begins to pick up speed as he truly lets his soul do the talking.

You begin to count the freckles on his face once more. Begin to take in everything he is in his entirety above you.

"I fell in love with you so easily. It's almost sinful how much I love you. But then it never seemed to stop-- all the destiny crap. It just kept piling on and on. And, somewhere along the way, being a Winchester and knowing that anyone that's close to us gets hurt-- I didn't want that for you, Y/N. So I was selfless in making sure you thought I didn't like you in that way. So maybe you would get over me. Over us. Over...What we should be." His voice drops with each sentence and you can see the guilt riddling his face with each word that passes from his pretty pink lips.

"You never even gave me a choice. Never even let me decide what I wanted." He clicks his teeth as he climbs off you before looking down at you as you sit up on your elbows.

"You don't need me. You don't need the danger that comes with me." He whispers.

Here we go. The same Dean song and dance that riles you up and sets you in seeing red.

"You don't get to tell me what I need! I do! I make my own decisions! I've loved you from the jump! And I can take care of myself, thank you very much if you haven't seen it already! What hurt me the most was that you always made it seen like I was never good enough for you." He takes an uneasy breath as you stand up before him.

"I've never...never meant to make you feel that way. I...Y/N you're so much better than anything or anyone I could hope to be with." He whispers earnestly, his hands press to either side of your face as he looks down at you.

"We're supposed to be together. Have kids. Get married. And our kids will be vessels for God or what heavenly douchebag and I can't have that." He says as he closes his eyes.

You can understand him. Truly. But, the oldest brother always walks around like he has the world on his shoulders and the burden is all his. 

"No one can tell us what is or isn't supposed to happen. Vessels have to say yes. And, if your kids were anything like you-- they wouldn't say yes if they had an ounce of your DNA in them." Dean lets out a small chuckle before his head lolls back.

His eyes open, he takes in the dirty water stains on the motel room ceiling before pressing his lips into a straight line.

"Everything you said last night. You meant it?" You ask softly.

"With all my being." He whispers as you wrap your arms around him.

"Then stop being afraid and let us work out our own destiny." You whisper.

"Y/N." He sounds breathless in his reply.

His index finger tips your chin upwards, his thumb traces your lower lip before he curses gently above you.

"Fuck it." He mumbles before his lips come crashing down to yours. His lips are soft and plush against yours. You can taste the whisky on him as the tip of his tongue licks across the seam of your lips.

You've dreamt about this since you were fifteen and all of your dreams could never have done this justice. 

His mouth opens just enough to suck your lower lip between his teeth and he nibbles on it until you're mewling and whinging before him.

"Fuck." He groans gently. His arm wraps around you before dropping you down to the mattress below.

"De." You whisper softly as he runs his fingers over his reddened lips. Your hands caress over his tee-shirt to his shoulders and you whimper as his head bows back down.

"God, your skin is so soft." He whispers against the shell of your ear as his hand dips beneath your tank top.

His hand splays over your stomach as he takes his time kissing and sucking down the column of your throat. 

Panting and mewling for more, you can barely hear the lock click open to the motel room before the sound of Sam clearing his throat rips you both out of your actions.

"Oh. Gross." Sam mumbles as he puts his hand over his eyes.

"I will shoot you." Dean threatens, he doesn't budge above you as you swat at his chest to get off. Your cheeks burn pink at the embarrassment of being caught by your best friend.

"I'm never going to unsee that for as long as I live. We have to go take care of this ghost but I see you've forgotten." Sam says before slamming the door shut.

You press your hand to your mouth as you give a giggle. Dean looks back down at you with a broad smile before tilting his head.

"Is it something I said?" He jokes. 

He runs his thumb over the apple of your cheek once more.

"Make our own destiny, huh?" He whispers against your lips and you nod gently as he kisses you.

"I like the sound of that, Candy girl." He mumbles before helping you up.

"Me too." You say as your fingers press to your lips. You can still feel his lips on yours, like a distant but not forgotten dream.

Your nerves are frazzled and fritzing as he hugs you tightly.

"I love you." He murmurs. You can hear how difficult it is to push out the words. You know he barely ever does this. He barely says it to Sam. But, it means so much to hear them from him.

"I love you too, De." He has a smile on his face as his chin rests atop your head. 

The smile only grows as he feels the burden of all these years slowly drifting off of his body.

"Let's go gank this bitch, huh?" He asks as he pulls back.

You smile as he kisses your forehead and you can barely contain the teenage-like giggle you give as he winks at you.

Making your own destiny sounds better than anything.

Destiny Is Heaven Sent Taglist: @roonyxx​​​​​, @deans-baby-momma​​​​​, @supernatural-love14​​, @winchest09​

Forever Dean Tags: @akshi8278​​​​

Forever Tags: @mariaenchanted​​​

[shinebrite97]

Part 6

Read Part 5 here

        With one bag under each arm, Mammon's leathery wings fluttered, propelling him through the devildom sky.          "Stupid Lucifer sendin' me to the castle. Why the hell is Yuri stayin' there anyway?" He wondered. "What's she got goin' on with Lord Diavolo? And why the hell did he take her out of class today?"

        He'd figured he'd come prepared, packing a bag for her with everything Lucifer had instructed him to, and then one for himself.         No one was going to keep his human away from him, no matter who they were.         He could see the castle below, swooping down and landing at the door to knock.         "Mammon," Barbatos said with a steep bow. "Thank you for coming all this way."         "Where's Yuri?" He asked.         "She is with the young master." He replied. "I can give her a message if you need."          "No need for all that," he replied. "Just show me where she and I are stayin' tonight and I'll take it from there."         "I beg your pardon?" Barbatos asked.         "Ain't I her demon? Ain't I the one Lucifer put in charge of her safety?" He argued defensively. "Just tryna do my job!"          "I assure you, Mammon. No harm will come to Yuri while she is here. I believe the Young Master will be keeping her attention until very late into the night. She will have proper rest and nutrition and we will escort her to RAD tomorrow." He bowed politely. "If you'll allow me, I will bring her belongings to her room and I will send her your regards. Have a good evening Mammon."         "But…"          The door shut with finality, leaving Mammon standing alone and with only one packed bag.          "Are you kiddin' me?"

                                                    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

         "It's the same for all the royal men of my lineage." Diavolo said. "As soon as an heir is old enough to be groomed for the throne, the old king falls into a deep slumber in a world beneath this one, and as soon as the power is transferred, the slumber ends and the old king passes on."         "Really?" Yuri asked.              "Yes." Diavolo replied. "I suppose that would seem strange to you."          Yuri nodded, taking the last cold sip of her tea. Knowing the pot was empty, she instead stretched her arms out over the tome in front of her, tapping her fingernails against a page right over a section of text in archaic latin.         "So if the king is just in a deep sleep and not dead, is that just in case the heir can't fulfil the duties of king? And before the heir is ready, the king can rise to lead if needed?"         "Correct!" Diavolo beamed. "Very clever, Yuri."          "And...if I may ask….how long has your father been in his slumber?"          "One thousand years." He replied.          "And um….how old are you?" She asked. Diavolo paused, his bright smile dimming as he leaned on the back of the empty chair beside Yuri.         "Oh...uhm…"         "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that...it's so personal-"          "No," he said. "It's quite alright. I'm just...trying to remember," Diavolo closed his eyes, lips parting slightly as he whispered the numbers rising exponentially, pausing to think, before continuing up.         "Six thousand sixty-two." He said.         "Oh…" her response came out as more of an exhale than a phrase. A stuttered thing that sent his heart into a frenzy as the sudden and unexpected fear of rejection kick-started him into speaking again.         "Listen, Yuri. I know I shouldn't have asked you to do this…The differences are so extreme. In comparison-"          "I would have thought you were closer to my age," she admitted. "The way you hold yourself, how you talk and act, and all the pranks you've pulled on us since I've returned….it's easy to forget sometimes….but it wouldn't really matter, would it?" Yuri knew she was rambling now, but seeing his golden eyes affix to her, all his attention hovering over her in that soft smile of his, how he instantly sealed his mouth, giving her all the time she needed to organize her thoughts, it made her feel more brazen. Sure, this was the future king of hell, a lord, someone she should fear. But she didn't.          It was Diavolo. Her first kind face in this realm. Someone who confided in her, who turned around and gave her attention when she needed it. She nodded, smiling even brighter as she sat up straight, keeping her eyes directly in his.         "If I played house with you, or Lucifer, or really anyone here, I'd be severely outranked in age, or power, or experience...but if I have to play a part to help someone advance, I'm glad it's you."          "Yuri...are you sure." He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she nodded assent.          "You're a great friend, Diavolo. I appreciate you, and I'd like to do whatever I can to help you achieve your goals."         "Yuri…" he grinned hugely, sitting down in the empty chair beside her and reached over, brushing a stray piece of brown hair over her shoulder. "I swear...you...the celestial Realm….no….uhm,” Yuri smiled shyly, feeling a tad proud of herself for flustering him like this.         “May I…?" He asked. She was confused, only for a moment, when she saw his hands raise, seemingly to either side of her head and he advanced slowly, giving her time to decline. She relaxed her posture, placing all her trust in him and what he was about to do.          His arms came around her shoulders squeezing and pulling her closer to his chest. A firm squish and then he eased his grip, still keeping her face to his chest.         "I'm afraid I am speechless." He said. "But thank you very much. It means so much more to me than you could ever know." Yuri hummed as she accepted his tight hug, unable to speak with her lips pressed into his uniform robe, but nodded.         A hesitant clearing of Barbatos's throat left the two scrambling back, adjusting his clothes and her hair to recover some dignity, only to be met by his smug smile.          "I'm sorry to interrupt," he said. "But dinner is ready to be served. Shall I bring the plates down here?"         "No," Diavolo replied. "It's about time we took a break anyway." He stood up, holding a hand out for Yuri who took it long enough to stand up, and walking beside him as they followed Barbatos up to the dining room.

                                                      ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

        After such an extravagant dinner at Ristorante Six the evening before, Yuri had no idea what to expect with a dinner in the castle.         The one good thing was not sharing a kitchen with Solomon this time.          They sat at opposite ends of a far-too-long table, separated by a beautifully vintage candelabra, one she hadn't seen the last time she'd visited with the brothers, though knowing how rowdy meals could get with that bunch, she understood why.         Barbatos served soup and small plates with a flourish, explaining each plate as he placed them down, pouring wine into glasses before them. Explaining how it would pair with the seasonings, and how it would cut the fats of the meat. While Yuri felt very overwhelmed by the specifics of the meal, Diavolo stayed silent, swirling the wine in his goblet and taking in the vapors as they rose.         "Thank you Barbatos." He said. "That will be all."          With a bow, he quickly left the room, leaving the two of them alone. Several feet apart, but feeling the lingering touch of their embrace just moments before.         "So…" Yuri started.         "Yes?" He asked.         "It looks delicious." She said.         "Barbatos is an artist in the kitchen," he agreed.         "And the wine…"          "It's a blend that will affect humans as well, so be careful, Yuri." She smiled, taking a sip just big enough to dip her tongue into it cautiously. It was bitter, first, vaporous and zinging her taste buds, enough to make her eyes water, but once the initial shock faded, it was hints of cherries. Sweet and earthy. She never considered herself much of a wine person, but after the first few sips, she grew to like it. Not to mention, it did taste good with the food served.          One glass turned into two, and by the time she'd finished it, she felt the edges of her brain growing foggy.          "Are you ready to continue with our reading?" He asked. Yuri stretched, rolling her neck and nodded.         "Yessir." She said, Diavolo stood up first, walking over the length of the table and once again extending his hand to her.         "You sure know how to impress a lady." She said.         "Oh...I-" Diavolo blushed, mirroring the heat in her own cheeks as her bold statement.         “I um…" she paused. "It's the wine." She giggled. "Social lubricant."         "I don't think I've ever heard that before."         "Maybe I could teach you a thing or two then…" she smirked.         "Maybe we should call it a night instead..." Diavolo replied.          "Oh, no, I'm fine." She squeaked. "I'm sorry, Ill drop the jokes."         "It's getting late," he said. "I would hate if you were tired tomorrow because I kept you up all night."          "Solid argument," she replied. "So are you going to show me to my room now?"          "Oh, yes...that's what I'm going to do!"          Diavolo walked in front of her, his prominent footfall shaking the sconces on the walls. The air was standing between them now, silent and a bit awkward.         "Lord Diavolo…" she said. "I'm sorry….did I make things weird?"          "What do you mean, Yuri?" He asked.         "With my comments at dinner...and with my rambling…earlier in the underground library."          "No…" he said. "I'll admit it caught me off-guard, but not for the reasons you'd think."         "Okay…" she paused, trying desperately to gain his attention, to lock her eyes to his. To try to communicate all the things she couldn't bring herself to say out loud.          "Thank you, Yuri." He said.         "For what?" She asked.         "For everything." He smiled. He finally stopped walking outside a sturdy wooden door and turned on his heel to face her. His broad smile took up his whole face, and he brought his hand up, resting it gently atop her head.         "You've done more for me in the last few days than anyone has ever wanted to do in all my years...and you’re so willing. I really appreciate it."          "It's no problem, Diavolo."         "Well here, we are...goodnight Yuri."          He opened the door, offering a sweeping gesture with his hand and smiled. She nodded, stepping through the threshold and giving him a small smile.         "Goodnight, Diavolo."         Her smile lasted until the moment he closed the door, finally alone, she saw the packed bag on the bed with a fresh uniform, her favorite nightgown, her hairbrush and toothbrush and some fancy lotions no doubt packed by Asmodeus. As she slid her DDD out of her pocket, turning it on, she scoffed.         Late? She wondered. It's only 8:30.         Outside the door, Diavolo finally let out the deep breath he'd been holding, sliding down the length of the door until he landed heavily on his rear, he placed a hand over his chest, hoping to calm the rapid pulse he's developed as he ran mental olympics, trying to make heads and tails of the evening that just transpired

[kisskissbanggang]

The Sabotage of Simkung House - Part 1

[Stray Kids Multi Fic - 5K Words/20Min. Read - Lee Know x Female Reader - Non-Idol!au, Variety!au - NSFW/Smut, Plot - Reverse Harems, Variety Shows, Secret Hook-Ups]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Masterlist | Feedback

This was your weirdest casting call yet. The assistant was taking the longest time looking back and forth from your headshot to your CV, and it was making you anxious. You could be doing better things on a Thursday night than get scrutinized more than usual. Finally, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of near silence on your end, the assistant motioned for the casting director to come over. This new person looked from the CV, to the headshot, to you, in a repeated loop until they ultimately asked you to stand up, turn in a circle, and walk around the room. You felt like a show dog, but relief finally came as the casting director motioned for you to follow, not leave. Was this your weirdest casting call ever? Probably. Would you pass up an opportunity to sign? Of course not. 

Yet another eager assistant trotted up to intercept you as casting led you down the hall.  “I got this,” he explained, politely shooing away the casting director and redirecting you into a new office. 

“Hi,” he greeted as he sat you in a chair, “so we’re glad you're here. I’m Felix,” he introduced himself, offering you a hand to shake before he sat you in a chair in front of the big desk in the room. He remained standing as he animatedly explained himself. “I’m the assistant for our executive producer. We know this has been a little unorthodox.”

“That's fine! I know some AV producers have really high standards,” you shrugged with a polite smile. You hadn't been shooting adult videos long, but in the time since you started you’d definitely had some weird auditions. None as weird as this, still, but weird nonetheless. 

“Right,” Felix nodded, “we were impressed with your materials. I'm already familiar with your work--” he blurted out before cranking back, biting into his lip as he blushed. You modestly nodded for him to continue. “--but I never realized you had such credentials otherwise. You have a very nice acting resume.”

“I've never needed both before,” you explained apologetically, “so I just left everything on there.”

“No no! It’s better than I could've dreamed of. I had no clue you went to school. And you’re bilingual? I thought I recalled you using English once or twice in streams, but I never realized--” Felix paused again, realizing his continued admission. You nodded for him to get going once again. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you kindly encouraged, “I’m glad you’re familiar with my work.”

“I am,” he eagerly nodded as he pulled some materials out from a folder sitting on the desk , “And we want you. So can I explain?” He waited for your approval once more before he launched in. We’re casting a new variety show. It’s called Noesengnam House.” The first piece of material he slid across the desk was a logo: a cheesy, bubbly text in front of a silhouette of a chiseled man with a graduation cap on. You raised an eyebrow. However, being enthusiastic was key to landing any gig, so despite any doubts you put on a smile. 

“Alright. So we’re focusing on smart, sexy guys?”

“We’re making smart, sexy guys,” Felix clarifies, and he’s so proud as he passes five headshots across the desk. You’ve always been puzzled by these overenthusiastic assistants, like they have a stake in every good idea so they have to be good. “This is like charm school, but for guys. The catch is they have to get equal marks in all their subjects by the end of the season in order for all of them to win their prizes.”

You got the smallest bit distracted looking over the faces of these five men, wondering how charm school worked as a concept with porn actors. “So the subjects are…?”

“What,” Felix suddenly halted, “not interested in the prizes?”

“I assume it’s money,” you flippantly shrugged, “so what are they supposed to be getting high marks in? I assume I'm working with them, so I'm interested in what they’re doing.”

It was Felix’s turn to shrug. Somehow, he apparently hadn’t predicted this. “The usual: manners, fitness, home economics, academics. They’re all secretly cast to have a specialty, so they have to work together to figure out each other's strengths and weaknesses.”

You finally held up your hands to formally stop him. “I'm sorry,” you politely apologized, “but I think I'm missing something. Where do I fit in?”

“Ah, that's the fun part. We cast them for variety, not for adult content. This will be their first venture.”

“For all of them?” You dubiously marveled, starkly curious how this would affect their performances. Almost no one was ever proud of their first time for more than sentimental reasons. 

“Yes, all of them,” Felix proudly nodded, “in our counterpart series, Simkung House.” He slid a new logo across the desk, the first crossed out and a bubbly pink text replacing it, with the silhouette of a -- no, really -- french maid tickling her duster under the chin of the man in the original design. The cartoon male even had blush added. You raised a sharp eyebrow at Felix. 

“Simkung? Who's the heartthrob, me or them?”

He jokingly waved you off, as if you could dare be so modest. “You, of course. They’re the stars of the daytime show, and you're the star of the nighttime show. Every good dormitory needs a housekeeper.”

“Daytime show?” You asked, backtracking. Your head was starting to swim with details.

“Yes. We actually have a daytime slot for Noesengnam House.”

“And so this--” you tapped on the gaudy pink logo in front of you, “is airing? On television?”

Felix slowed down a second. “Not quite,” he admitted, “it’s an online subscription for a well-negotiated price. Our clientele are loyal, and word of mouth has been our biggest asset.”

“So I just sleep with everyone.”

“Of course not,” Felix grinned, wagging a cheeky finger at you. “You’re working for a prize as well.” He slid a new graphic across the desk, this one a table of information. One row had a heart, the one below had a broken heart, and the one on the bottom simply had a question mark. The zeroes populating the prize side of the infographic made your pulse race. “Our five budding bachelors are all yours for the taking, but they can’t find out about each other. They each have to think they’re the one you chose. If you bed one of them, that’s 50 million won.”

Felix’s grin grew more wicked as your eyes widened.

“If one of them finds out about the others, you’ll lose 60 million won each. So control of information is key.”

“And what’s this?” You asked suspiciously, pointing at the ominous question mark. 

“That,” he explained, “is for added drama being incited. You’ll find out later.”

“So what if I get all five?” You asked, feeling a bit foolish for getting excited.

“Then you get the prize,” Felix said seriously, “There's 500 million won at hand here, but you don't get to earn any of your penalties back for anyone finding out.”

You felt a little nauseous. That much money could get you a modest house, and maybe a car, and maybe all sorts of things. 

“Where’s the contract?” You cautiously asked, not wanting to sound too eager. 

“Of course,” Felix nodded as he pulled out two packets from under his pile of promotional material, one for each show, “I figured you’ll want copies for your manager--”

“I manage myself,” you firmly replied to Felix’s surprise, taking the copies from him and grabbing a pen from your bag. You flipped through, immediately crossing out any transfer of representation and exclusivity clauses. You had to be able to work after this, and you had to be able to keep up your own streams on the side during production if the schedule allowed. Your pen paused as you hit something interesting. 

“What’s this about accommodations?”

“We’ve leased a house for production instead of making a studio more habitable for the cast. You’ll need to be accessible at all times given our schedule.”

“So my stream…?”

“Sadly, you’ll need to take a hiatus,” Felix pouted a little in sympathy, “but we’re confident you’ll find new fans. Now, are you going to use that pen to sign? Or do you want time?”

A miniature war broke out in your head over the prospects, but you quickly tried to decipher why -- the contract practically led in with the fact you’d get five million up front. That would help pay the bills in advance and settle some debt that had sat while money was tight. If you said no, someone else would say yes. You would meet new guys and network, and possibly come out with more money than you had going in. 

You signed. 

---

Felix wasn’t around on your first day on set, but you had his card in case you needed him. You wheeled your one suitcase to the front door of the handsome house, and an assistant immediately herded you to your room, further away from the chaos currently happening in the main living space. The bottom floor of the house mostly contained the impressive home gym, but appeared to also be where the laundry room and your room were located. You noted cameras tucked into all sorts of corners and crevices, some more obvious than others. 

Your room was modest, with a small bathroom attached and its own fair share of cameras around. It was cutely decorated, a little feminine with warm string lights and soft textiles, but not very personal. It could've been any girl's room, but for now, it was yours. Felix had assured you that the cameras in here would only ever be on at night, and always with a signal of one of the bulbs on your string lights blinking. You opened your closet to get a feel of the space and where you could put your things when you saw your uniforms set out for you. A number of soft blouses with coordinating skirts hung on padded hangers, ready for you to mix and match. When you opened the drawers beside them, you found pairs of sensible tights and delicate pantyhose, some patterned and some not. Thankfully, the costumes were pretty sensible. You didn't want to be parading around in a french maid costume, swishing petticoats in boys’ faces or bending at the waist to show off some frilly panties. If the show wanted you to actually seduce these men and do it with some romance and dignity, the modestly cute uniforms would work just fine. You did also bring some of your own clothes, something Felix so graciously insisted upon, so you had options should you grow tired of the same look. 

You unpacked and changed into a pale pink blouse with a black pencil skirt and some grey tights before heading upstairs where you were immediately intercepted by another assistant. 

“Noona,” the younger man politely greeted, “you must be our housekeeper.” You nodded with a smile in return, popping the first button on your blouse when the assistant held up a lavalier mic to clip on. He quickly averted his eyes as you threaded the cord down and around to your back, endearing you, but just a little. 

“What's your name?” You asked, watching for some sound tech to signal that you were fine or needed adjustments. 

“I’m Seungmin, noona. You can let me know if you need anything. For now, we'll get you to a stylist and get you today's pages.” Seungmin showed you upstairs to the attic of the grand house, a de facto control center just above the main floor. A stylist swept you up and sat you in a chair while Seungmin fetched your pages. As the first episode, you would really only get a short introduction with the other staff: a cook, and a valet. For some reason, these cast members didn’t also reside in the house, but you didn’t need to question the producers at the moment and cause trouble. The main cast appeared to be downstairs already getting set for their first takes, their voices muffled through the thick rugs placed on the floor on this level. A text beeped through your phone that you had stashed in the pocket of your apron, and you opened it. 

>How's my star? Ready for your first day? Can I get a picture? I have the big boss here. 

You rolled your eyes at Felix’s antics, but took a reluctantly cute selfie anyhow, even winking for the camera.

>Perfect. It's like your first day of school and I'm so proud lmao. Big boss says to tone down the sass. Clients are more into Hidden Charm. 

A heavy sigh fell from your chest. You were already nervous for your first real variety debut, let alone with the show tonight lurking ahead. Seungmin appeared right next to you, ready to lead you downstairs as the stylist set your hair one last time. 

The lights in the living room were a bit irritating and took a second to adjust to, but the room itself was great. The home was impeccably decorated, modern and smart and just cozy enough to not feel sterile. You were sat next to your other Staff cast members while the main cast finished up in the dining room, your introductions awkward and brief. An errant bead of sweat traveled from the nape of your neck down your back when the rest of the cast were led into the living room, tempting you to shiver until the crew was done setting up. 

You watched, distracted in the middle of rising from your seat when the cast filed in from the dining room down the hall, stretching and chatting as they took a quick break. The boys all had on some coordinating iteration of the same uniform, capitalizing on the ‘college boys in their dorm’ concept the show was toying with. First was Minho, a perfectly pressed crease undisturbed on his slacks despite filming all morning, and his sleeves bundled up over his hands as he nonchalantly entered the room and immediately took a seat on the couch. Next came Jisung, glasses gradually sliding too low and one end of his necktie a little too short. Changbin followed, looking down his long nose at a loose thread on his sweater vest, with Hyunjin right behind stopping him to fuss over it himself. He stooped down to see better and brazenly reached under the material to pull the loose thread back through before being prodded along by Chan pulling up the rear. Hyunjin straightened up, smoothing out his blazer and adjusting his beret before joining the rest of the boys on the long sofa, Minho now having scooted off to sit on a tufted ottoman. Chan casually rerolled his shirt sleeves and brushed a hand through his ashy blonde hair, opting to stand until the crew was ready. The assistant director stepping in to run down the scene finally pulled you out of your reverie. Clearly, your co-stars’ headshots didn't do them justice, but did they think the same of yours?

The scene was simple: following the round-table of introductions in the previous scene, the cast meets the staff before picking roommates. That was it, that was your big debut, and for some reason it was nerve-wracking. You and the staff all nodded greetings before filming even began, before you took your marks off camera. The boys were all polite, but none of them treated you with any familiarity. You would have to remember to ask Felix if they actually had seen your headshot before coming to set. 

Finally, cameras rolled. As the Seniors of the group, Minho and Chan led the discussion, but Chan was clearly filling his role as the show’s host. He spoke well, and with plenty of charm, but something definitely struck you as odd about him. You just couldn’t pinpoint what. Your cue snapped you out of your train of thought and you suddenly remembered you were nervous, just as you walked on set and into the irritating lights. The valet introduced himself first, and then the cook, and, to your horror… You forgot your cheesy intro line. 

What was it?

Amazing. Your first shot would require a reshoot, and it would be because of a flub. 

You momentarily floundered, opting instead to roll with it and improvise. 

“Hello, boys,” you beamed as you greeted them, “I’m your housekeeper. Keep a good home while you're here, since I'll be the one cleaning it. I hope you have nothing to hide.” You topped it off with a wink, and the boys all shared a momentary air of surprise. You didn't blame them -- it was awkward, cringy, and too ‘sassy.’ The Big Boss probably hated it. 

But the boys laughed. Actually laughed. The take finished without any more problems, and the stylist ran up to reset your hair between takes. 

“Was it bad?” You whispered as she touched up your makeup. 

“No, I liked it!” She smiled, reassuring you a little. In fact, the AD asked you to run it again the way you had, surprised you could improvise at all. The retake went more smoothly, and you finally allowed yourself a sigh of relief as the scene cut for transition. 

As the boys finally wrapped up, you set about your other duties. When the cameras weren't formally set and manned, the planted cameras caught plenty of action from the boys. The valet had it easy; he was come-and-go as the plot necessitated, but you and the cook actually worked. Your contract outlined that while the boys were usually “on” from eight o'clock to eight o'clock, that you were an actual part-timer during the day and working at night. You could “work” your show during the day, but you couldn't interfere with the daytime activities. If you were needed as a housekeeper during the day, then that was priority, and these bookshelves apparently came with dust on them. You set about dusting as the boys transitioned from their scripted work to more casual filming. They each gave you a look as they filed back out of the living room to get set up in their rooms. Some expressions were cryptic, Hyunjin and Chan especially, but some were clear, like Minho’s small grin as he subtly looked you up and down as you reached for a tall shelf. Not wanting to shy away from an opportunity, you smiled back. 

The rest of your day was pretty simple, all things considered. You dusted and swept and tidied up a little, but since all five men had just started living in the house, there wasn’t much else at the moment. The house calmed down considerably as the huge crew dispersed for the day, now resembling just a mostly normal home. You hung out and snacked in your room as you heard everyone eating upstairs, only emerging once you heard their chairs scooting free of the dinner table. At that moment, one of the bulbs on your string lights blinked three times and then turned off. 

You immediately straightened up where you sat in bed and cheerily waved at the camera. Felix had outlined that you would never have to do much talking if you didn’t feel like it. You rose from your bed, turning to fix the bow in your apron before heading out of your room, giving the camera an extra wave. As you turned to ascend the stairs, a figure landed right on the bottom step in front of you, making you jump with a startled laugh. 

“Chan--!” You gasped into a giggle. “I'm so sorry, you surprised me.”

“I’m sorry, noona, I’ll be more careful,” he nodded cordially as he briskly moved to step around you. You quickly took note of the basket in his hands. 

“Wait!” You jumped back in front of him. “You don’t have to do your own laundry, you know. Besides, you already have some on night one?” You held your hands open for him to set the basket into and he hesitated before reluctantly giving it up to you. 

“It’ll take some getting used to, noona, thank you. I just wanted to take care of my uniform and my street clothes from before I got to set.”

“Fair enough,” you smiled warmly despite his stiff demeanor, turning heel back towards the laundry room as Chan hesitated again before heading back up the stairs. Working quickly, you set about separating the meager pile of laundry and getting them started on washing before you returned to your original plan and headed upstairs yourself. 

Through the living room was the dining room, and beyond that was the kitchen down the hall. You peered in, spying a sink full of dishes from dinner. You pulled on some gloves and got to washing when your ears perked up at the sound of the kitchen door swinging open. Just like that, your assumption was right: someone had to be a late-night snacker in the cast. And, of course, it was Minho. 

“I'm sure you could’ve eaten with us if you wanted,” Minho slyly grinned as he pulled open a cabinet and peered inside. His uniform was swapped out for a much comfier number, a simple henley shirt and pajama pants. The thin layers hugged the subtle outlines of his figure and suggested that despite his casual nature, he still put in effort for his looks. He came away from the cabinet with a box of cookies and offered it to you. You smiled and silently declined. 

“I appreciate that, Minho, but I'm just the help.”

“Yeah, but you’re pretty,” he said bluntly, quietly picking the box open, “and I feel like we could be friends.”

You watched, quietly impressed with how cool Minho could be. He silently, nonchalantly took a bite of a cookie and offered you a bite of the same. Could you really say no to an advance like that? 

Sure you could. Where was the fun in making it easy? You spied a camera in the corner of the kitchen, tucked under the hanging cabinets. Stepping aside, Minho instinctively circled with you, opening your conversation up for the camera. 

“It’s only the first night, Minho,” you teasingly scolded as you leaned forward and took a bite of the proffered cookie, “you shouldn't be so eager.”

Minho surprised you again, his thumb instantly at your lip and cleaning off a crumb you hadn't even felt. 

“Are you sure you're just the help?” He laughed quietly. “You don't act like it.”

“I can act however you want me to,” you teased back, enjoying the way his eyes lit up at your little repartee. You locked gazes as you let his thumb caress your bottom lip, watching for his reaction when dipped your chin to take the digit between your lips for just a moment. You took a step back, leaning back against the counter. His turn now. Minho set the box of cookies down, a devilish grin tugging at his lip as he stepped closer. 

When the door swung open once again. You both rapidly turned away from each other, your hands plunging back into the sink and Minho turning back to the cabinets. Changbin blinked at the two of you. 

“‘Sup,” Minho cheerily greeted, “I'm making myself something to eat. Want anything?”

“Nah,” Changbin shook his head as his eyes darted between the two of you before settling on the box of cookies on the counter. He stiffly reached between you both and grabbed it. “I'll be just fine with this. Unless you wanted--?”

“No, thanks, that's fine, like I said, making myself something,” Minho enthusiastically prattled on, making himself look busy as he started facetiously searching for pans in the bottom cabinets under the counter. Changbin raised an eyebrow before shrugging, popping open the box of cookies and digging in as he left the kitchen. 

A beat passed in the silence as you both waited for Changbin’s footsteps to disappear, but you didn’t get a chance to say anything before you felt Minho press up behind you where you stood at the sink. You let yourself have a small smile as he reached his arms around you, grabbing a kitchen towel and pulling your hands out of the sink to dry them. His head leaned down over your shoulder, his breath tickling your neck as he took his time before you grew impatient. You leaned back against his chest, opening up your neck for him. Minho breathed you in and brushed your hair back, the impression of his smirk pressed into you as his lips brushed against the delicate skin. 

You turned in his arms, playfully pushing him back a couple inches by the hips, and he instantly stepped closer, getting on with it already and driving his lips against yours. His flannel pajama pants did next to nothing to hide his growing erection he was currently grinding into your thigh. You kissed him deep, readily spreading your legs for him as his hands searched you and played with the hem of your skirt. 

“Right here?” You asked coyly. 

“As if we weren't pushing for that this whole time already,” Minho chuckled as he kissed you up and back against the counter. He spun you back around, pressing your hips against the sink as he kissed and nibbled at your neck. “Say it,” he implored. 

“Fuck me,” you replied breathlessly, gasping as Minho immediately pulled your skirt up around your hips and bent you over the sink, his fingers dipping below the waist of your tights and tugging them down. His fingertips probed your dripping entrance from behind and you gave an encouraging moan for him to continue. “What,” you grinned back over your shoulder, “chickening out?”

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting this,” he teased, “you sure you want it? You did say it's the first night.”

“Give it to me,” you said adamantly. Minho smiled back as he pulled out his hard length. One hand gripped your hip as he guided himself in, groaning as your depths took him deep. You squeaked out a surprised moan when he bottomed out before both his hands were on your hips now and pulling you deeper around him. 

You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep from getting too loud as Minho fucked you over the sink, his hips bucking hard against you as his length filled you up. Once he set a reliable rhythm, one hand crept lower, between your legs to caress your clit as he fucked you.

“I want to make you cum,” Minho gritted behind you, “tell me how and I'll do it.”

“Keep doing what you’re doing and you will,” you taunted. 

Minho seemed pleased with your answer, his fingers still rubbing firm circles on your clit as his cock drove in and out of you even faster. You pushed your hips back against his, gripping the counter hard as the refined angle helped hit your spot more consistently. Minho let out a deep groan at the sound of your quickening whimpers, the sound of you approaching your orgasm making it difficult for him to keep up his own pace. 

“Minho,” you gasped, “I’m gonna--!”

You threw your head back as you cried out, quickly muffled when Minho pressed his own hand over your mouth. He kept it there, his other hand still holding firm onto your hip as he fucked you through your orgasm and on his way to his own. You whined and moaned into his palm, the way his own desperate groans combined with his stuttering grip on you making you lightheaded. He came hard, suddenly, emptying himself inside you as he gritted out hushed curses and panted breaths. 

You both stayed there, connected at the hips before Minho pulled out and brought you back up from the ledge of the sink. It was sweet, the way he helped put you back together and kissed your cheek. 

“Thanks,” he panted with a grin, still catching his breath, “hope this won’t make anything weird.”

“Of course not,” you smiled back as you brushed your fingers through your hair, “we can even do it again some time if you’d like.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. What’re friends for?” You winked, and Minho’s laugh was almost bashful as he playfully nudged your shoulder. His hand lingered on yours before he gave a cute wave and finally walked out of the kitchen. 

You waited a beat for Minho’s footsteps to disappear before you found the closest camera in the corner of the kitchen and gave it a wave and a smile. You finished the dishes and left them to dry and exited the kitchen, nearly screaming in surprise as you ran right into someone. 

Another assistant, blinking in surprised relief and taking a deep breath. 

“Well done, noona,” the assistant laughed quietly. 

“Who are--”

“Jeongin, noona, sorry.”

“Where have you been hiding?” You asked, bewildered. 

“Upstairs in the control room. I come in when the day crew leaves to help supervise in case you need anything.” He handed you a bottle of water and you nodded your gratitude, uncapping and taking a sip as you looked him over. He was an actual infant. He must've gotten roped into the industry right out of school. “Any other plans tonight?”

“Don’t think so,” you chuckled. “The show won’t be much fun if I get everything done in one week.”

“Sounds good, noona. You’ll be getting some rest then?” 

“Sure will.” You waved goodbye to the assistant as he crept back up the stairs and you headed down towards your room, making a quick stop to make a change over in Chan’s laundry for him. 

You stripped down in the comfort of your room, waving as the camera blinked on and you pulled on your pajamas. The sheets were welcoming as you crawled into bed, blowing a kiss to your viewers before the camera blinked back off. Your phone buzzed with a text from Felix as your eyelids grew heavy. 

>Good show tonight. Great start. The big boss loved it. Can you wear the dark blue blouse tomorrow? I want to see if it looks better than the pink. And don't make tonight a habit. We gotta keep things interesting. ;)

You sighed, now suddenly curious how you would “keep things interesting” between all five boys and wondering who would be next. 

[september000]

“hireath”

PART II

oikawa tooru x reader

“cause I remember the rush, when forever is us.”

Winter came quickly, her trees as barren and as cold as the sun. It was time to roll down our skirts and wear those thick cotton stockings. As the season progressed, I found brushing fingertips with Oikawa to have more of a considerable meaning. Ever since I had come to the realization that I had feelings for the boy, the weekly tutoring sessions became more painful. Every smile, grin and laugh we shared felt like cicadas chirping inside of me, violent and chattering. There were so many times I had wanted to vomit all the thoughts I had of him. I wanted to take his lips in my mouth and drink him up. For the first time in my life, I began to feel flustered by my thoughts.

“You know (Y/N)-chan, I can’t thank you enough for helping me.” He purred. He shuffled closer to me. It was not uncommon for him to make these advances, ever since he looked up at me on that gym floor. I was new to love, but not new to the intents of boys. Evelyn has told me stories of the guys she’s dated, the way they would stare at her creamy thighs and bubblegum lips. Still, I favorited Oikawa, he was different. He felt different. So I pretended to not acknowledge his approaches. Looking back on it, maybe that’s what drew him closer to me. I was nonchalant in my ways of love. “Let me take you out somewhere.” He breathes, fixing his glasses. Pen tapping methodically against the notebook. I stifled back a choked expression. I chuckle with nervousness and maybe flattery.

“You’re too sweet, I couldn’t do that to you.” I argue.

“I offered,” he said smoothly, “it would be my pleasure.” Coaxes Oikawa. He seems more bold now, he cups my hands and intertwined our fingers so lovingly. Yet he does it so effortlessly. Like he does this with all the girls that tutor him.

“Alright.” I concede. “I’ll go.” He yelps in happiness and I laugh a little in his childish nature. It felt really good to make someone happy like that. Oikawa wrinkles his nose and squints his eyes at me, inspecting something.

“You have a really gorgeous smile.” He tells me. I am taken aback yet again. His charisma was getting to be a little too much.

“No, you’re just trying to be a flirt.” I gave a quiet laugh as my lips turned upwards too readily.

“You know me so well, (Y/N).” He tilts his head to the side. “There’s a new bakery that opened up in Sendai. I heard it has the best custard buns. We should go together.”

“And probably the best milk bread, right?” I chuckle. The feeling of playful banter was foreign to me, as I’d never had anyone except Evelyn. Oikawa’s eyes crinkle and relish in my cheekiness.

“Well I should start heading out.” He looks over me one last time. The view of the cafe shows the horizon, a mess of oranges, pinks and blues.

“See ya.” I said.

“I’ll call you later tonight.” He whispers, it was a pretty thing. He then disappears onto the fading street, and I just stare into the notebook. A stupid grin plastered on my face.

I spent most of that night thinking about him, and all the little things he had done to warm my heart. I sat restless on the bed, tossing and tumbling. Waiting for his call. I had ended up falling asleep, phone in hand and ringer turned all the way up.

He never called. When I awoke to no text or missed call from him an ugly feeling took place in my stomach.

In class, I couldn’t hide my disappointment. When I told Evelyn she simply frowned and took my hand. I knew what her gaze said . ‘I told you so.’

But Oikawa profusely apologized when we passed each other in the halls. He said something came up, and the small anger I held diffused quickly. But I tried to move past him.

“What about Sunday?” He stopped me, hand grasping my arm. His touch alerted me. I looked around and saw girls staring. My face felt hot.

“Sure. Sounds nice.” I smile. It seemed Oikawa didn’t realize the prying eyes. Or maybe he did and just didn’t care. Probably the latter.

“Great, it’s a date!” He exclaims and walks away. Chest upturned and unwavering. I walk quickly to my class. Then there was Evelyn, sitting next to my bento box. My legs shook with excitement.

“He made it official, Evie.” I spoke in English, I didn’t want the prying eyes to become prying ears. “He said it was a date!” I laughed in disbelief. This time, Evelyn did not grimace. She just looks surprised. I knew what she was thinking yet again. ‘Oikawa Tooru is never known for taking girls on dates, he just amuses them.’ I just hugged her in a fit of joy, and she hugged me back, she knew how good it felt to be plagued with contentment.

Sunday came around quicker than expected-- I had thought that the days before would be thick and lingering. Like watching paint dry, but it was as cold as it was quick.

I remember it was Saturday night, I had tore open my closet, my room has never been this messy before. I was on a facetime call with Evelyn at the time trying to figure out what to wear.

“I don’t really go out a lot,” I sigh in annoyance. “I barely have anything to wear.”

“Yeah, I know right? You dress like a NEET outside of school, thank god we wear uniforms.” Joked Evelyn.

“Ha ha ha,” I snide, “you’re so funny, now shut up and help me out.” I laughed. I grab a navy blue sweatshirt. It was abundant in warmth and cozy. I slowly slip off my shorts and search for a bottom. In the corner of my eye, I see an unfamiliar skirt.

“Wait Evie, did you ever have a plaid skirt?” I ask, as I rarely wear skirts. I focus the camera on the skirt and Evie hollers at me.

“That’s where it’s been. Oh my god (Y/N) you have no idea how long I’ve been looking for that shit.”

“You always leave your crap at my house.” I deadpan. She just smirks.

“It’s just a parting gift.”

“Then you don’t mind if I try it on, right?” I stepped into the skirt, it fit a little snug, but it still felt perfect. I show her my outfit in the camera.

“Holy shit (Y/N),” she boomed. “You look hot! You need to wear skirts more often.” I meekly blush in her praise.

“You should definitely wear that.” She said.

“With some tights?”

“With some tights.” I signed off later that night.

I was uncharastically anxious again and rolled tirelessly in the bed. I laid awake, tangled in a mess of stuffed animals and plush blankets. It was 12 am when he had texted me.

Oikawa Tooru : I’m excited for today, I bet you’ll look really pretty. Let’s meet at 11.

At first I couldn’t believe it, the amount of power a person can have over someone. With a simple text, I felt my heart crawl up my throat as it lodged itself there. My fingers were so eager to answer back with so much love and zeal. But I contained the feeling. “Be careful.” Evelyn had said.

I think I should’ve been more wary, though.

Me: alright, goodnight.

Oikawa Tooru: Goodnight (Y/N), sweet dreams <3.

I stared up at my ceiling and gave a gentle kiss to my phone. I was not a very religious person, but I thanked God that night, for giving me such a wonderful boy. After I put the phone down, I slept like the dead.

When I awoke, frost decorated my windows, the sharp sun caressed my face. I groaned in displeasure and stretched, bones cracking and joints popping. It was around 9. I think waiting is the worst part. I paced back and forth, cleaning up my room, sweeping the floor that didn’t need to be swept, studying for things that didn’t need anymore attention. I sat upon my bed, dumbfounded in my boredom. But eventually the time came, though I did not rush as I thought I would. ‘Don’t rush it. Be patient.’ I had told myself. ‘No one likes a desperate girl.’ So I pulled up my tights. Black adorning (S/C) skin. I zipped up the plaid skirt methodically and carefully. Drawing out every movement. I wore my best bra and did my makeup. But I don’t even think you could call it anything substantial back then. Coral red lip tint with mascara. Simple.

Oikawa Tooru: Good morning :). I’m on my way.

When I had left for the door, I had seen a note over a mess of tinfoil. ‘I had to pick up some extra hours at the hospital. Sorry baby. Love you.’ She had written. I lift up the tinfoil and it’s a pitiful attempt at omurice. I bitterly smiled and threw it away, I was going to eat with him anyways, though I’ve never done such a thing like that before. That was the start of it.

As I took the train I felt hot and stuffy, the sweatshirt becoming unbearable yet my legs shivered. It felt unfamiliar to dress for someone else. To do things for someone for the sake of their pleasure— this was something I just couldn’t comprehend. On that train, I felt as big and as small as I could be. I was going on my first date. With the Oikawa Tooru.

It was not a long walk from the station, couples, families and their children alike seemed to litter the sidewalks in a content fashion. Bubble coats and wool scarves swaddled them. The bakery was very quaint, not quite the place I would’ve expected Oikawa to pick, though I saw him through the window, excitement awaited me.

end of second chapter!!! probably gonna be 3 more chapters as this is very short!!! thank u for 20 followers :)!! I appreciate u all

[a-forgotten-spirit]

Chained To Him (7)

Pairing: Dad Aizawa x reader (platonic), Dad Mic x reader (Platonic), Bakugou x reader (slow build)

Summary: The last rounds in the sports festival

Words: +- 4000

Warnings: Orphan, villains parents, you watched the season you’ll be fine, broken bones, fixing broken bones, the sports festival arc, 

A/N: I tried to make it as similar to the original had to change who characters fight to move it along. I apologize this took awhile, I am beyond busy.

Tags:  @puppetofyourdreams​ @aurorahoneybuns @star-witchs-blog​ @mha4life007​

Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 ________________________________________________________________ Chapter 7

I was going to win, no one was going to stop me. I didn’t care, I was going to win. There will be no exceptions. I walked back to the room I was occupying and was getting ready for the next fights. If they progressed then I would be fighting them. I hadn’t even looked at my next opponent but I would win, it didn’t matter. To begin the second round it was Midoriya versus Todoroki. Todoroki was an opponent worth watching; he was the only one I worried for when facing Bakugou, even though he had two quirks like myself he had morals and didn’t seem to like to fight. He looked as though he wished to prove something to not only the world but himself. Little whispers flowed around me of their thoughts and I smiled.

“The son of Endeavour” I smiled, I already knew that. I was there the day he got recommended, I was there when his father came to give my own fathers papers and things so he could attend. He was the only one I was worried about, he wanted to win this. The fight in his eyes said so.

The fight began and I sat and watched intently, my body leaned forward and eyes narrowed, I was meant to be in the stands but I wanted to be here. No one would distract me today. Todoroki started with a cloud of ice towards the green-ette but a simple flick of a finger and Midoriya was still standing teeth grit and eyes wide. This would be a good fight, though Midoriya was hurting himself in the end. It was all a matter of how long he could go for. More ice and another flick, he only had eight fingers left and he had to be in pain. There is no way he couldn’t be. Another wave of ice and another flick, this was going to be awhile. The air looked cold and frostbitten, so did Todoroki’s arms. Another wave and yet another flick. Then Todoroki was running on ice, another flick and then an attack from Todoroki, Midoriya jumped and then ice and another flick. This was ridiculous. He was hurting himself to win. This whole thing was meant to show off your quirk. Todoroki was back up with a breath of ice.

“Shaking” I tilted my head “arm too cold” I smirked, he had to regulate himself but he seemed to not want to use his other side. I wondered why “Father” I nodded. He didn’t want to use his father's power, it made sense. More ice and another flick. Todoroki caught himself. He had amazing control of his power. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but Midoriya was yelling it seemed, he was shaking. Maybe it would have been better to sit in the stands so I could hear what he was saying. A scream from Midoriya with a clenched fist that had to strike pain through him, I waited. Time wasn’t moving as I sat there my hands in my lap leaning forward, waiting. Todoroki was on the move, running eyes narrowed. He was slower. “Too cold” I nodded.

He jumped but then was punched across the field not without a hit to Midoriya's arm, though the other was up within seconds. The fight was back and forth, I believe Midnight would soon step in. She had too, right? Back and forth, ice and flicks. This was never going to end, they had to stop them before one got brutally injured. Todoroki was shaking, Midoriya was out of fingers. This would end soon, though I didn’t know who was going to win, it wasn’t even far from it but Todoroki needed to get his head in the game. Ice spread over his side as they came together with a punch to his abdomen and he looked dead, body falling. I wanted to look away, he looked sad, so very sad. Then his other side was alight, firing raging around him, he was using both sides. There was no way he was to lose now. The ice melted, he was regulating his temperature, he was going to win, there was no way he couldn’t with his full quirk. Then we were about to fight but with power, ice, fire and cement colliding the area burst with force and then when the smoke cleared it was Todoroki who was the one in bounds and standing.

The area had to be cleaned up then the next match Iida versus the girl from 1-B, the one with the vines, was over relatively quickly. Iida simple ran her out of bounds, it wasn’t that exciting and I could easily dodge his attack with my chains. A good show of his quirk and speed though so I couldn’t complain. I stood up, I was next. I would win, there was no room for failure. I was doing this so I could fight Bakugou, I was doing this for my parents. I was doing this to show the world I wasn’t villainous. It was my turn, I walked out into the field, my steps slow, everyone was quiet. This is a well-anticipated match, we both could stand still and fight. We both were ranged attacks but that’s what he was expecting. When on the field I bowed to him and he bowed back. I was going to win this.

“Begin” Midnight shouted and then Dark shadow was coming straight for me. He was moving quickly as I stood still and then at the last moment I crouched the chains burst from my back and attacked quickly and without hesitance. I was then running, I wasn’t even looking in the dark shadow, my eyes narrowed as I ran towards Tokoyami.

More chains tied up Dark Shadow and then I sent out a punch, dodged. I dodged his attack with a simple move of my shoulder though I never let my eyes drift from his own. My eyes narrowed and he widened. I ducked and he jumped, high pulling himself towards the sky to dodge. My chains faded and then knew ones as I threw myself into the air.

“I apologise” I called out and grabbed his leg with a chain and threw him towards the ground harshly “but I refuse to lose” dark shadow was brought down with him as I let myself fall to the ground with a thud then coming to my full height. “Are you able to fight?” I asked and stood, he could give up if he wished. He was up and breathing heavily. “Again”

I was running and a dark shadow was coming toward me, I ducked bending my knees and skidding along the ground chains coming to protect my body as I skid, I pushed myself up and then began to fight Dark shadow, he was stronger and I was pushed back. Chains dug into the ground and held him off. “Dark shadow” Tokoyami yelled and I blocked another hit.

“I will not lose” I yelled and then slammed my foot into the ground and pushed, I was pushing dark shadow “I will not lose” I yelled again. I wasn’t going to lose this, I was going to show everyone I could win. I didn’t need the other half of my quirk, I could win. I felt a hit to my side and I went flying digging my hands and chains into the ground to hold myself in the field. I looked up to see Tokoyami pulling a fist into his body.

I needed to pay more attention. I stood up and held my rib cage, it was a good hit. I smirked and stood fully cracking my neck from the whiplash and turned to them. I would not lose. I will not lose. Dark shadow was racing towards me, claws out and mouth wide. Chains stopped him and threw him into the ground with a grunt. I walked forward, slowly my feet connected with the ground.

“He is watching” I nodded “He is strong” I nodded again. “We will win” I smiled and then I was running, faster than ever as I came to his back my hands out and grabbed his shoulders and I jumped and twisted and then brought him down beneath me. Chains came out and held his arms down as I straddled him to the ground.

He struggled for a moment and then he let his head rest back “You win” I smiled and then came the cheers as I left his body and stood, chains coming back as I held out a hand. He took it and I pulled him up as a dark shadow came and looked down.

I held his hands and bowed at the waist “Thank you” I whispered and looked back up. “Both of you. Thank you for the fight and sorry for going a bit overboard” he shook his head and smiled with dark shadow.

“You’re welcome” then we left the field, my hands leaving his own, I waved to the dark shadow and then the cheers, Pa was announcing my win but my eyes lifted to Bakugou and my hand rose with a point. I was indicating he was next.

I walked out to the field and when in the tunnel I smiled, wide and my hands began to shake, I won. I won, I would be moving on. I would win, Bakugou just had to win. I smiled wider. One more fight then Bakugou, if he won. He did, he won against Kirishima. Kirishima had an amazing defence with his quirk but continuous explosions would put anyone off. Bakugou also had amazing reflexes and agility, it was more than insane. He wasn’t human, his quirk had nothing to do with his speed or agility on foot yet he dodged like he knew the others moved in advance. Continuous explosions and the overuse of Kirishima’s quirk meant Bakugou was going to win.

Now he just had to beat Todoroki and I had to beat Iida, then we could fight. One more match, one more match. I was up first. I brushed off my legs and then I was walking out onto the field. I sighed out, he was fast, the fastest in our class. I bowed as did he then the fight began. He was running, I had not anticipated his speed, I sunk to the ground missing his arms by millimetres. Chains sprouted and he was off and running. How was I meant to catch someone I couldn’t. I could use the other half of my quirk, I looked down to my hand and sighed and shook my head, no. The only person worthy of that is Bakugou, I would beat him. There was no way I wouldn't beat him.

He was at my side and my arm rose to deflect his attack as I smiled and twisted, throwing a kick into his side, he tripped but was up and running away quickly. I nodded. All the information was rushing through my mind. My eyes couldn’t catch him and my chains relied on my eyes. I sighed and closed my eyes.

“She’s closing her eyes” Pa yelled and I let all my senses die as I put everything into feeling. His body was moving, running toward me. A chain came and he dodged, faster. I stood still and then waited, another attack, another dodge. Another attack and another dodge. I needed him in the perfect spot, the perfect spot. He needed to move slightly, now. My eyes burst open and I ran grabbing his arm and throwing him harshly over my shoulder eyes wide and then slammed him into the ground with a grunt. Chains were then placed at the ready as I stood looking down at him.

He nodded and then I stepped back, my chains curling around my torso and then one of my legs. Something they did when they wished to be out but not in the air. I stood back hearing the cheers as he quickly got up and smiled with a bow, I bowed back. Then I was off chained firmly around my body as I walked out. Once in the tunnel, the smile was wide and proud as I jumped around.

“He must win” I nodded, Katsuki had to win, he was going to win. I knew he was going to win, he would, no questions asked. Though I couldn’t stop the worry. “You won” I nodded, I did win. I won fair and square with only my chains. With Bakugou’s speed and strength, I doubted I could beat him without the use of my full quirk.

I walked back into the room and waited for Todoroki and Bakugou' fight. Todoroki was range attacks while Bakugou preferred close combat but could do range. The bigger the explosion the more force behind it, my chains could keep me in place. I could win against him, I hoped. Though if he got in close then there wasn’t much I could do, I believe his agility and speed much outweigh my own so there wasn’t much to do in that aspect, I just had to keep him at a distance.

I sat back and waited for Todoroki and Bakugou, I was beyond worried, this matchup was insane. Both their power and their might was commendable but I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking. I wanted to verse Bakugou, I wanted to show the world I could be a hero. I wanted to be someone people looked up too and could see as an up and coming hero. I wanted to win, I wanted to fairly win and for that, I needed to use my full quirk so I could win fairly.

The fight began as most with Todoroki, ice clouded the stadium, Bakugou, on the other hand, was moving so rapidly to try and explode the ice faster than it was coming at him but then he was covered. Was it done? Was this over, did Bakugou lose that quickly? The stadium shook periodically, each seeming hit shook the area but no one was attacking. My eyes were wide, he was in there, he was getting out, right? The ice was cracking and then an explosion and he was out, jumping over the ice steam came off his hands. He was so fast being able to dodge quickly, he used an explosion to get out of way. That was training beyond belief. Grabbing Todoroki’s shoulder he flipped and then threw the poor male, ice caught him. It was fast, I couldn’t feel pain from my chains but if enough damage was done I was sure I’d feel something. Todoroki was surfing but with Bakugou in the air, he was caught but then thrown. No fire? He could have potentially won if he did. Explosions came from his palms loud and one after another. Bakugou was screaming, I could even hear him. He was offended Todoroki isn't using his full power, I would too. I would give him a fair fight. Todoroki was on fire and Bakugou was coming through the air and at the moment of impact the fire extinguished, ice steaming and shattering in the air. The smoke cleared and Bakugou was on the ground while Todoroki, on the other hand, was sprawled out on his ice. Bakugou was running at him, grabbed his shirt and then he too fell Midnight behind him. It wasn’t a real win in his eyes. I could see that. Midnight announced the winner and then we would take a break until he awoke.

I leaned back “He won, unfairly” I nodded to the voice by my ear, “I thought, fair, others didn’t” breath “try hard” I nodded. The voice was right, Todoroki didn’t try. He let his fire extinguish. I sighed out and calmed my racing heart, he wouldn’t be out for long and with the last match, I knew I was going to be on the receiving end of that anger. I wanted it, I wanted to win. Everyone knew he was strong but now this was my time, my time to show the world who I was and what I was capable of.

A teacher came in and told me Bakugou was awake and ready, also mentioning he was not happy and overall in a feral mood. I smiled and got up off the chair and began my walk to the stadium, I could see the light at the end and then the cheers. The screaming and cheering as I walked out and then looked forward to the glaring male, he was more than pissed, small explosions leaving his palms.

When I was in the stadium I smiled at him and bowed, his head lowered and I sighed out. “I saw your last fight, I can feel the anger” I spoke out and everyone went silent. I didn’t talk so this was new. He growled and eyes narrowed.

“You better bring everything you’ve got” he screamed and his hand was out small explosions coming from his palms as I looked over his form, shoulders tensed and eyes wide.

I smiled and my hands came to the bottom of my jumped I pulled it over my head and threw it to the side, I stretched my arms and then looked at him “Don’t worry Bakugou” I smirked letting my arms fall “Earn the rest of my quirk” I wanted to irk him, make him madder than he already was. I wanted a true angered fight Don’t hold back”

Then the fight began, it was fast he was up and coming in threw the air. I could fight in the air too, chains sprouted and I was in the air coming full force at him. An explosion came to my side but I dodged grabbing his shoulder twisting us and chains went to the ground as I pushed him down and we were barreling towards the ground. At the point of impact, an explosion went off as I was thrown off and slammed against the ground. The smoke cleared and we were both getting up to look at each other.

His smile was wide as he looked me over “That was a good idea” he dusted off his pants and then he was running “But you’re slow” an explosion close and I was pulled out of the way by an unseen force. Another explosion and I was pulled down to the ground and a chain came up to push his arm out of the way and another went off.

I rose and punched his stomach but then an explosion came to my mid and I was off and flying as my back collided with the ground and then I was pulled out of the way by a chain. I stood and my eyes drifted over to his form. I could not win, he was far too powerful. This is only half of my power, I could win this. I turned and my chains dug into the ground to hold myself in place, I was too close to the edge as is. My hands came up to protect myself from the debris. I sighed out and cracked my neck.

“You’re strong Bakugou” I smiled and looked down to my palm “Chains can only do so much” his eyes narrowed and a smirk came rushing to his face. “I want a fair fight, I want to show everyone I am better than you” We were similar, I wanted to show I was worthy of winning. I looked up to the Bakugou “Hello” I whispered and felt the board coming from my chest as I stood and watched him, everyone was silent. Within seconds I was ready, eyes black and veins from my eyes the same, my hands black. Then we were at it again.

Chains came up from the ground and tried to grab him as I watched and looked him over, he was faster and more powerful than before he wanted to win. He was pushing chains, I could feel it but when he was in front of me an explosion went off at my mid and I was flying, my arm flinging over my head and a crack could be heard. I rose and grabbed my arm, throwing it to the side, a crack being heard, loud and I shook it off.

“You can’t break an Ouija board, you know that Bakugou” I was then running and the fight began once more explosions and chains collided, I was looking at them like a Kraken coming from the Earth to attack him. He was fast though. I ran but he sure and I was thrown but he grabbed my back as I soared and exploded me towards the ground on my front. I gasped and got up slowly holding my chest.

“You can’t break it but it is in front of your other organs” I laughed and stood fully looking at him as I smiled and nodded. “Don’t you underestimate me” he screamed and was in the sky again doing his fancy little missile trick like he did with Todoroki.

I couldn’t dodge and no chains could help me “Shield” a voice whispered “Chains, people, protect” my eyes widened and chains dug into the Earth as I also dug my boots into the Earth. I sighed out and grit my teeth.

“Spirit Shield” I screamed and chains came out quickly encircling my body and then standing in front of me as he impacted. I had my hands out to hold it as I held it up and grunted. Smoke encircled the stadium and when it passed I swayed as the chains came to wrap around my body, Bakugou was up and smiling.

“It looked like you didn’t do that” he yelled but I could see his arm shaking. He was reaching his limit, I was too. I sighed out as he shook out his arms and began to walk “You didn’t do you” he snarled and I shrugged.

“What can I say” a chain came out “Each loop in the chain is a spirit I have met and kept in my board” my hand came to trace over my chest feeling the grooves. “They protect their board” I narrowed my eyes and then a chain wrapped around his waist “But this one, this one I’m controlling” I then rose him and then slammed him into the ground as I ran over and chains went over his arms and legs to keep him to the ground. I crouched and put my hand on his chest. He was breathing heavily and then let his head fall back onto the ground “Thank you” I smiled and then stood back up letting the chains go and grabbing his hand and bringing him up.

“Fuck you” he whispered but that smirk still on his face. I smiled and a chain slowly wrapped around my leg. I bowed and his head went down too. Then I was smiling and jumping around.

“Aizawa Y/N is the winner” I jumped up my hands rising as the cheers and screams were heard. I was so happy, I was smiling more as I looked up my parents and then the screaming came.

“That’s my princess” I stopped and flushed “Aizawa Y/N, is the winner” I was surprised the glass didn’t break but I did notice Dad happily smiling. I was beyond happy, nothing could be better than this.

“Good job Y/N, you won. You won’t win next time” I turned to Bakugou and smiled as I punched his shoulder and smiled. He lightly got pushed but then he was fun as I put my hands on my hips.

“Goodbye,” the black faded but the chain stayed as I smiled and then we were taken to the back to get ready for the award ceremony. I was over the moon, my mind was racing as I smiled and jumped down the tunnel. ________________________________________________________________

Chapter 8

[astraeagreengrass]

The Queen's Husband [5/?]

When her reign is threatened, the Queen of Ergona must find a husband to secure her throne.

Word Count: 2.545

Warnings: Smut, fluff, Steve Rogers (yes, that deserves a warning of its own). English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

A/N: This chapter is just a filler, but I hope I can make it up to you guys with some Steve fluff. I'm hoping to post more regularly now that I am quarantined, although I'm still working from home and online classes will begin next week. How are you doing? I hope everyone is safe and healthy. If you ever need to talk, my askbox is open. Sending my love to you ♡

His fingertips woke you before sunlight did.

Delicate digits traced a path from your tailbone to your nape and down again, a feather's caress to your spine. He praised the bones and vertebrates that sustained you in the same meticulous way he praised the rest of your body: the soles of your feet, the palms of your hands, the ends of your hair. Throughout the night, nothing, not a single piece of what you were, escaped his careful loving. You never imagined sex could be this special.

Your cocoon was still relatively dark, the curtains of the four poster bed shielding you and your lover from the outside world, at least until it inevitably came barging in. Today was the first day of the rest of your lives - not as husband and wife but as King and Queen and Ergona. Steve had done plenty of teaching yesterday, but now it was your time.

Turning, you found him, lying on his side, head propped on his right arm, lazy smile on his face. Adonis.

Traditionally, men and women of nobility wouldn't sleep together. They each had their separate bedrooms, sometimes linked by a door, sharing a bed only when necessary. But Steve stayed over. You choked on a laugh.

“What is it?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“I'm thinking of Wanda, Nat and everyone that was probably waiting outside the door for you to leave last night."

He chuckled, pulling you over to him with his free arm. His chest was warm, somehow warmer than the bed furs, and you tucked yourself in it, carefully threading your fingers through his patch of hair.

“Do you regret it?" his voice was muffled by the soft press of his lips on the top of your head.

“No” you kissed the skin above his heart. “In fact, I think you should come back tonight.”

His hold tightened around your body and you sighed in content. Was this love? Being so at ease and relaxed with someone you couldn't be bothered by your appearance, your responsibilities or your nasty morning breath? And how did it come to this? How did Steve sneak his way into your heavily guarded heart, tearing down your walls as easily as he took his next breath?

And why did none of these questions mattered in the blissful aftermath of your nuptials?

It didn't last long, of course. As you predicted, a knock on your door announced the end of the dream and the start of your day. It was Monday, which meant the privy council would gather at precisely ten o’clock, and not even the all the wine from the wedding feast would halt your advisors’ punctuality. You groaned, pressing harder into your husband's embrace, unwilling to let him go even as Wanda's embarrassed voice announced:

“Your Majesties?” she knocked again. “I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's past nine. The privy council awaits.”

“Don’t go” you whispered.

Steve kissed your temple, your cheek, your shoulder. The hand on your hip ran the length of your arm and cradled the back of your head, angling it so he could take your lips in his. It was slow and sweet, but tasted like goodbye. You hated it.

You pushed him into the mattress, knees on each side of his body and hands sprawled on his strong pecs. There was something wickedly satisfying in overpowering a man like Steve, to watch his gaze grow dark as you hovered above him. It filled your head with the dirtiest fantasies, which, up until last eve, were completely unknown to you.

You kissed him again, fiercer this time. Your teeth pulled on his bottom lip while his palm moved to your ass. He squeezed it hard enough to leave a handprint and his fingers found the way to your core, causing you to whimper. Despite the arousal you were sore, sharp pain lacing your sex from the loss of your virginity.

“Does it hurt?” Steve haltered.

You heard Wanda knock again, but it was ignored.

“A little” you muttered, eyes casting down in embarrassment.

He lifted you like a feather, switching positions gently - how naive of you to think you could ever truly outmatch his strength.

“I’ll make you feel better, my love” he promised, raining pecks down your torso until he reached the top of your mound. Your breath hitched, but, even so, your legs opened to him. These sheets had known more promises of trust in the course of a night than you did in a whole life, all sworn in his whispers of care and attention.  

Your back arched at the first swipe of his tongue. Steve held your thighs, keeping them apart as he delved between your legs. It was filthy but downright glorious, the way he licked, sucked and bit on your most private parts, all the while his beard scratched the delicate skin of your inner thighs. Erotic sounds filled your ears as you lost yourself to the delirious feeling of giving yourself to him.

You were going to be late.

Lord Fury was annoyed and Lord Strange was nonchalant but Lord Stark and Lady Romanoff looked positively delighted when you and Steve finally arrived to the Small Council meeting, over an hour later than you were supposed to.

A new chair was added to one end of the table to accommodate the King. Scrolls and parchments were ready to be examined and the map of the continent, meticulously painted on the floor to the left side of the room, gleamed brighter with a fresh coat of color.

All four advisors rose as you entered. This was Steve's first commitment as sovereign. You'd given him some reading material on laws and tax procedures during the summer so he could get used to what was to come, and, of course, he was more than well versed in military affairs, but the Small Council was the place where politics happened. Once a week you’d welcome the lords in the General Assembly and listen to their concerns and demands, but, ultimely, decisions were made in these chambers.

Steve would have to learn the ways of Ergona with the same dedication he had for his swordsmanship, but as fast as it would take to strike down an enemy. You married him to secure the throne, yet keeping it required wits and dexterity. The King  was about to enter a battlefield bloodier than any other he's ever faced.

You believed he could do it. If there was anyone that could, it was him.

“Your Majesties” Lord Stark commenced with a happy smirk. “How nice of you to finally join us.”

If Steve could kill your uncle right then and there, he would. Red flushed through his cheeks and down his neck, but he could only gawk, speechless. Sam, the bastard that he was, snickered from his post at the door.

“Tony…” Steve was disconcerted. “I mean, Lord Stark. We are… Sorry to have kept this Council waiting.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Your Grace” you interrupted, shooting daggers at Tony with your eyes.

“It is true, Your Grace” Natasha added, a smirk hidden in the corner of her mouth. “This Council is here to serve you, not the other way around.”

With a pointed look to Tony, who was disguising his chuckles with a fake cough, she continued:

“The royal wedding and King Steve’s coronation left Ergona in very high spirits. Add to that the defeat of Zerbolia and we have, perhaps, the best moment in Queen Y/N’s reign so far. We must seize this opportunity to strengthen the bond with the common folk.”

“It is customary for new monarchs to travel across the kingdom after their coronation” Lord Strange explained to Steve. “But since we are approaching Winter, I would advise you to wait until Spring.”

“Indeed” Natasha said. “The last crops will be harvested in the coming weeks, then the villages will prepare their storages. We could arrange your travels for around the Spring Festival.”

The Spring Festival marked the end of the winter months and the beginning of the new harvest season. It was the most important tradition in Ergona, a time when families and friends came to together to celebrate life and wish for prosperity.

“What do you think, Your Grace?” you asked.

“You're not a stranger to travel, right?” he pointed out. “I know you often visit the provinces.”

“Yes. I made it a personal goal of mine to reach those who can’t easily reach me, but this would be something for you. To introduce you as the new King. They know you as Captain, not monarch.”

“Your work in the military brings you renown amongst the people, Your Grace” Lord Fury clarified. “But history shows that they have a hard time taking to new rulers. Even with this initial approval, things can still shift dramatically.”

“What about their lords?” Steve inquired.

“Oh, they are overjoyed” Lord Stark quipped. “But I’ll give it until next week before they have something new to complain about.”

“The General Assembly is in four days” you stated. “Lady Natasha, what are the prospects?”

“They’ll come at the King like wolves" she turned to Steve. “Support is volatile. If the lords think you’re not prepared, they won’t hesitate to show their displeasure.”

“It is impossible for me to learn everything there is to learn by Friday” the King blurted.

“You’ll never learn everything” you said. “But we can divert their attention."

“What do you propose, Your Grace?” Lord Strange crossed his hands over the table.

“A ball, of course” you smiled.

“Excuse me, Your Grace” Lord Fury grimaced. “But how could a ball help us?”

“The nobility likes their parties, Lord Fury. It keeps them entertained and if they’re entertained they won’t bother asking the King the hard questions, thus giving His Majesty the time to go through our most important matters" you elucidated.

"This is not a bad idea" Natasha pondered. "We could have the ball under the pretense of celebrating the Yule season. This way, the lords will have time to return to their lands, oversee the winter preparations and return to the capital. You could hold off General Assembly meetings until then."

"His Grace still has to address them on Friday" Lord Stark pointed out.

You looked over to Steve. A frown marred his beautiful features as he took note of the rapid exchange between you and your advisors. He was clearly out of his element, more used to following orders than giving them. It served only as a reminder of how much he was sacrificing for you - casting aside his career, exposing himself to scrutiny of the critics, facing the fear of the unknown.

All of it for you.

"Well" you exhaled. "This council has four days to aid His Grace. I suggest we start now."

Steam clouded the room in billowing white clouds smelling like orange blossom and patchouli. The water was too hot, tinting Steve's skin a light shade of pink. His head hung from the edge of the tub, eyes closed, basking in relaxation, while his hands still stroked your left foot. Directly across from him, you said:

"You still haven't told me who holds Osuva."

He groaned.

"The Van Dynes?" he mumbled. "No, the Hogans. The Van Dynes hold Fort Murahainen."

"Are they friends?"

"Yes. Lady Van Dyne welcomed Lord Hogan to her estate on the last Spring Festival."

"Why is Fort Murahainen named as such?"

"Because the fields surrounding it are home to a large population of ants."

He lifted his head, gaze finding yours over the scented bath. You were in the royal chambers - your parents' old quarters, which you'd refused to take when you were crowned. But you were married now, and it was uncalled for a King to sneak back to his room in the middle of the night. These new chambers consisted of two dormitories separated by their own private door. So far, only one of them had been used.

Steve leaned forward, taking the parchment from your hands and tossing it somewhere behind you. His arms laced around your waist, pulling you to his lap. Water sloshed around you, spilling from the tub to the wooden floor. The light from the fire bathed him in golden glow. Your fingers traced a scar on his collaborne.

"How'd you get that?" you rasped.

"Aviko" he laced your fingers, palm to palm. "We were ambushed by a Zerbolian militia. Their sword work is ordinary, but they're great with arrows. One of them shot me and I rolled over the river bank. Bucky pulled me out."

You kissed him gently above the puckered skin, going upwards towards his neck, jawline and chin. He nuzzled you, beard scratching your cheek in a ticklish caress.  Your lips met halfway, tongues and teeth clashing in an intricate, personal dance. Steve twisted in your embrace, swiftly pulling you under him. The muscles in his arms hypnotized you as he grabbed edge lip of the tub, hovering above you.

Your hips opened to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he entered you gently.

"Fuck" he breathed out in pleasure, fingerprints digging in your hips.

Every night was like this: you'd go over the long list of names, laws and customs Steve had to memorize, always ending up in the tub, the chaise, the bed. Even the carpet once. It was a most peculiar learning method, but it was working and you weren't complaining. Sex was wonderful, but, more than that, the feeling of being with your husband tugged on your heartstrings, filling your soul with the most fantastic, overwhelming joy.

For the first time, you had more than Ergona. It felt bold and audacious, even guilt-driving, to think of something solely for your happiness, but, in moments such as these - so close to him, each kiss more as vital as your next breath - your concerns flew out the window like the last breaths of autumn before winter came.  

You were falling in love and you felt undefeatable.

"Is it time?” the bald man asked.

“Not yet” the other one responded. “We need to wait until she’s pregnant.”

“Then what?”

“Then we take Stark out of the picture. Without him she’s vulnerable. Fury is loyal to the country, not the crown, and Strange cares more about his ancient arts than politics, but Stark would give his life for hers.”

“And the King?”

“It would be a shame if something were to keep him away from Court, wouldn’t it?”

The bald man tensed, and his companion noticed his brief hesitation.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“No!” he assured. “But how will you do it?”

“I’m traveling to the mountains at the end of the week. I’ll speak to the Baron. He wants nothing more than to get his revenge on Captain Rogers.”

The bald man was quick to noticed how the other referred to the King by his former title.

“Zerbolia’s navy was crushed no less than six months ago. The military's at it's prime. How can you be sure the Baron will risk it?”

“He will.”

His companion’s certainty disconcerted the bald man, but he couldn’t turn back now. The wheels were spinning and a new game was at play.

Ergona would be the battlefield.

[rennyforpresident]

Renny’s BBSim: First Boots THE FINALE!!!

For the last time, Welcome back to BIIIIIIIIIG BROTHER!

@ashleaevans @bathroom-sand @kaysarswhore @kayysarridha @kelleekim @lahallucinations @maxdoesbb @misshoh @music-obsessednerd @nerdphobic @nomwastaken @pawn2393 @phylisisley @remember-caltoru @rennyforpresident @shaolinbynature

Welcome to the finale of Renny’s BBSim: First Boots! 95 days ago, 16 former first boots went to bat to try and redeem themselves in the BB house. So far, 13 of them have fallen short of the prize, but three remain standing, ready to duke it out.

@ashleaevans. Someone who started off as furniture quickly became a house contender. Often the center of drama, he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, and made clear who his alliances were whenever he was given the chance. With two HOHs and Vetos under his belt, he has a formidable track record. Will he be the one to take the jury votes?

@pawn2393. Someone who laid low the entire season and relied wholly on his alliance to get him further. Some call it piggybacking, some call it meat shielding. I call it smart. He just won his first veto, and while competitions aren’t his strong suit, his social game has been nothing but on point. Will the jury recognize this and reward him with the half million dollar prize?

@shaolinbynature. This competition BEAST has won FIVE HOHs this summer. Completely redeeming their track record wasn’t enough, though, and she got involved in numerous deals and alliances, even finding love along the way. She also didn’t shy away from drama, and had several legendary fights during her stay in the house. Will her record precede here and earn her the grand prize?

These are your three finalists. The jury will decide between two of them, and in order to determine which two, we need to have our final HOH competition of the summer!

Round 1 is endurance. The competition seems easy, but as the waters act up and the weather turns bad, people get cold, and the complaints start rolling in. 

After 48 minutes, someone loses concentration and accidentally removes their hand from their key

@ashleaevans: “FUCK! No no no no no I didn’t mean it!”

But unfortunately, he remains out. The other two battle it out to the end, and stay in their boats for almost three hours. @ashleaevans is sitting on the sidelines doing nothing, waiting for this to be over.

@shaolinbynature whispering: “Hey, @pawn2393, if I get off do you promise me you’ll take me to the end? I swear to you I’ll take you.”

@pawn2393: “Deal dude. I can’t sit next to someone as likeable as him.”

After another quick confirmation, @shaolinbynature pretends to slip his hand off, and 

@pawn2393! You will advance to part 3 of the final HOH competition.

This one will test our houseguests’ memory, as well as speed. If they remember everything about this season, they’ll be golden!

Once both houseguests compete, they gather in the backyard for the results.

@ashleaevans, you had a time of 12:13. Good job!

@shaolinbynature, you will need to beat this time in order to advance to round 3 of the final HOH. Your time is...

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11:20! Which means

The two houseguests competing in the final HOH are @shaolinbynature and @pawn2393. Unfortunately, @ashleaevans, you will be sitting this out.

@ashleaevans in the DR: “I’m a little pissed that I’m sitting this out. But I have faith that @pawn2393 can pull this out. He’s on kind of a winning streak right now”

(It’s called encore presentation because this is literally the same competition as last week’s HOH lmao)

The two stand on giant scales, ready to compete. The stress from the competition is palpable, and even Arisa and Julie are nervous. 

After 8 rounds of questions, the game ends with a score of 6-5. The winner of the final HOH, and the person who has guaranteed themselves a spot in the final 2, is...

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@pawn2393! You have secured your spot in the final 2, and earned the right to decide who will be sitting next to you!

Arisa: “Congratulations everyone on making it to the finale! But even more congratulations to @pawn2393! Before you make this final decision, both of our nominees get one more chance to sway your vote and plead their case. @ashleaevans, you’re up first.”

@ashleaevans: “You know how much I adore you, and I respect you infinitely. I have faith once again in your decision, and I know our deal will hold true. There’s no way you’d choose to sit next to @shaolinbynature in the end, and I have complete faith that we’ll honor our deal and be the final 2.”

@shaolinbynature: “If you want a shot at winning, you’ll take me. I’ve pissed those people off; the only one @ashleaevans has pissed off is @kaysarswhore, and you’ll have that vote against me too. I am telling you straight up, do not screw this up. Put him on jury and secure his vote too.”

Arisa: “When you’re ready, please stand and cast your vote to evict.”

@pawn2393: “I am so sorry about this, but I have played this game a certain way and I can’t change now. There’s no way I can be in final 2 with you. I vote to evict...

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Arisa: “Come on out, @shaolinbynature!”

Arisa: “So close! Where did you go wrong??”

@shaolinbynature: “Not winning an extra comp! I knew I was screwed when I lost, there was no convincing @pawn2393. I’m pissed that I’m not still in there”

Arisa: “If you had won, who would you have taken with you?”

@shaolinbynature: “Oh @pawn2393 without a doubt. They’ve been floating this entire game, and @ashleaevans definitely has some jury votes on his side. That was an easy choice.”

Arisa: “Well, we are so sad to see you fall just short of the finish line, but we have a winner to crown! Let’s bring out the rest of the jury for jury questioning!

When @phylisisley sees @shaolinbynature, she immediately tears up, and both of them hug for the first time in weeks. No one really looks excited to see @ashleaevans and @pawn2393 as the final 2.

@nomwastaken: “My question is for @pawn2393. We were in an alliance together, and yet you chose to go against it in favor of who you’re sitting with. Why did you do that, and do you feel bad?”

@pawn2393: “I did it because I knew the alliance would only protect me for so long. I was at the bottom of that totem pole after you left, and there was nothing I could do about it. I did my best to play both sides so that no one would see me as a threat and take out my allies before they take out me. Leaving the alliance was one of the best decisions I made in the game, and I stand by it 100%”

@lahallucinations: “My question is for @ashleaevans. @kaysarswhore was a prime target for weeks, yet you failed to take her out. Why should I vote for you when you couldn’t convince people to vote out a threat like her?”

@ashleaevans: “I did my best and fought my hardest. There was no convincing people once their minds were made up in this house. It took me winning two separate HOHs to finally be able to vote her out, and I’m proud that she went out on my HOH.”

@kelleekim: “My question is for @pawn2393. Why should I vote for you when you were furniture most of the season? I didn’t see you make any real moves, and most of the jury agrees.”

@pawn2393: “That was my strategy, to hide all of my moves from you all. I worked with the Block Destroyers and cultivated a secret relationship with @ashleaevans at the same time. This protected me during the double and after that. I was the voice in every HOHs ear when they were nominating, and I was the puppeteer the whole time. You not recognizing that means my strategy worked.”

@kaysarswhore: “My question is for @ashleaevans. I think we all know where my vote is going tonight, but I want to ask what your biggest move in this game was, other than taking me out.”

@ashleaevans: “My biggest move was using chaos as my friend. Shifting the target off my back by throwing it on other people was good for me, and I did it multiple times. I did it with you, I did it with all the members of the big alliance. My biggest move was getting in fights, and I stand by all of them.”

@shaolinbynature: “My question is for @pawn2393. I won 5 HOHs, and I can’t remember you being in my ear. Whose ear were you in, like you said you were?”

@pawn2393: “Well, I was in @ashleaevans‘s ear and @kaysarswhore‘s ear for the most part, but me being tight with both sides of the house influenced your decisions too. I disagree that I wasn’t in your ear, because you never put me up.”

Arisa: “That’s all the jury questions we have! Now it’s time for the final pleas.”

@ashleaevans: “I have played this game hard. I knew I had a target on my back from the beginning, and I knew that I had to play. I won competitions and took out threats to my game. I made strategic moves with who I talked to and interacted with to ensure that I’d be sitting here. I couldn’t have done it without @pawn2393, but my game was my own. Vote for me, because I deserve this.”

@pawn2393: “I played a quiet game, yes, but I also played an effective one. No one in here considered me a threat, and I made it to the end virtually scratch free. I won at the end when my safety was dependent on it, and I voted out the biggest comp beast this game has ever seen. I controlled others’ HOHs throughout the season, and I played this damn game. I have proven that I am a BB great, and I deserve this title.”

Arisa: “Alright jury! Time to vote!”

@shaolinbynature votes for @ashleaevans to win. She respects the game he’s played, and knows that every move he made was to advance in the game.

@phylisisley does the same. She respects the fact that @ashleaevans never lost sight of the prize, and played hard.

@kaysarswhore votes for @pawn2393. She would never cast her vote for @ashleaevans to win, and is happy to hopefully see a Block Destroyer win the game.

@nerdphobic feels the same way. He wants a Block Destroyer to win, and genuinely feels like @pawn2393 played the better game.

@nomwastaken feels differently. He knows that @ashleaevans was the one who took him out, and he’ll be damned if he goes out at the hands of anyone but the winner.

@misshoh also wants @ashleaevans to win this. She believes @pawn2393​ made two fatal mistakes by having the opportunity to vote out @ashleaevans​ and failing to. She wants to show him the error of his ways.

@lahallucinations​ disagrees, and thinks @pawn2393​ deserves to win. She doesn’t respect the loud game that @ashleaevans​ played, and wants to see a quiet assassin win.

And if anyone respects quiet games, it’s @kelleekim​. He votes for @pawn2393​ to win as well, because quiet players stick together.

The vote is 4-4. @remember-caltoru​ is the deciding vote, and will determine the winner.

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@remember-caltoru​ votes for @ashleaevans​ to win. He recognizes that he had the balls to play hard, and respects that immensely. He respects someone who isn’t afraid to speak their mind.

Which means!!!

Congratulations king!! Certified Legend!!

BUT THERE’S MORE!

For the past two weeks, America has been voting for who they want to be America’s Favorite Player and receive a cash prize of $25,000! And the winner of AFP is...

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@misshoh​! Keep throwing pizza rolls, bc they love it!

That’s it for this BBSim! This was so much fun to write, and I hope y’all enjoyed it! I don’t think I’ll do another one any time soon, but thank you all for playing!!

Here are the stats for the season!