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nerdzzone · 3 years

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Luckless Romance

Summary: When Whitney Taylor was lucky enough to get the job of a lifetime doing a photoshoot for Marvel Studios, she didn’t expect to come away from the experience with a new friend. Especially not a friend that she quickly fell head over heels for.

Convinced that those feelings were completely one sided, she kept them to herself - until one night changed everything.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Prequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy + -More Hearts Than Mine-

Note: While this is set before the other two parts of this story, I would definitely recommend reading the other two first if you haven’t already. I know that might seem odd, but I do think it flows better that way. This is more of an aside than an introduction, I think, but it could just be that I wrote them in this order so that’s how it makes sense to me.

Anyway! Thank you to everyone who has been eagerly awaiting this part of their story. The support has been so motivating and I’m already working on more little snippets of their lives together that should hopefully be posted soon.

Please let me know what you think!

_____

August 2015

Growing up in Los Angeles - especially with a rather well known uncle - I was very aware that celebrities were really just normal people who usually weren't deserving of the obsessive adoration they received from the general public.

That being said, it still felt very surreal when I found myself sitting around a table with some of Hollywood's biggest stars as we celebrated the end of a long and tiring photo shoot in which I was the photographer. Three weeks earlier, I had been slaving away at a department store portrait studio taking boring, uninspired family photos, so the contrast between that and where I was now - sharing drinks with the cast of Marvel's next big movie after wrapping my first real photography gig - would be enough to make anyone feel a tad awestruck.

It didn't help that it had all come together so quickly that I'd hardly had time to wrap my head around it. The photographer that they originally had lined up to do the shoot had some kind of family emergency and had to drop out at the last minute. They were going to postpone the shoot indefinitely, but my family connections with Iron Man provided another solution. My uncle Rob wasted no time in giving Marvel my name and portfolio and less than twenty-four hours later I was signing a contract for the biggest career opportunity I'd ever had.

I was endlessly grateful - the pay was far better than I was getting at the department store and there was plenty of potential for more Marvel related photo shoots in the future - but the pressure was nerve wracking. I'd hardly slept at all in the few days leading up to it and by the time we wrapped, I was exhausted. As the adrenaline faded and the relief that I survived kicked in, I was very much looking forward to crawling into my bed with a nice glass of wine to get a good night's sleep before I started the editing process the next day.

But there was no time for rest with this crowd and it was quickly decided that we were all going out for some kind of unofficial wrap party. The official one had been two weeks before when they'd finished filming in Georgia, but now that they were reunited in L.A., it seemed another celebration was necessary. I'd protested at first and tried to sneak off before they could realize I was gone, but my uncle thwarted my plan and, after a few minutes of heavy guilting about how long it had been since I'd spent any time with him, I reluctantly agreed.

Which was how I found myself sitting at a table in a private room of a popular bar with my uncle - Robert Downey Jr - my Aunt Susan, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Scarlett Johannsen and Paul Rudd. There were other cast members and their friends dotted around the room, some sitting by the bar while others played pool, and I couldn't help but take a moment to be grateful that I'd been given a chance to join this team of incredibly talented people in some small way.

I was also taking a moment to be grateful that my placement in the booth we were sitting in gave me the opportunity to be sandwiched between the wall and Chris Evans - who smelt so good that it should probably be illegal.

There'd been a spark between us all day. He was attractive - I'd known that going in, it was a pretty beautiful cast - but seeing him in person with all his Captain America muscles was really quite a sight.

But it was more than just that.

There was something about the way he looked at me, flashing me those blush inducing smirks along side his teasing comments and the way he was so genuinely kind and polite to me throughout the whole day. I was sure that my uncle had warned them that this was my first high profile shoot, but Chris had been incredibly supportive and he never came across as condescending if he offered me any suggestions. He checked in with me throughout the day to make sure that I wasn't getting too overwhelmed and it was very much appreciated despite the fact that his effortless flirting often left me more distracted than productive.

Sitting next to him now, feeling his thigh pressed against mine due to the tight squeeze needed to fit our whole group around the table, had me very distracted again until my uncle dragged me back into the conversation.

"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"

His question, or more likely the displeasure in his voice when he asked it, captured the attention of the table and all eyes were on me as I shrugged.

"He's great as far as I know, but I haven't talked to him in a while," I admitted. "We broke up a couple of months ago."

"Thank god for that," Robert grinned. "It's about time!"

"Don't be insensitive," Susan scolded him, which probably would have been deserved if I didn't know how accurate of a statement it was. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I think she means 'what horrible thing did he do that finally made you come to your senses'?"

Susan swatted at her husband, but I cringed at the memory.

"It was really bad. I don't even want to tell you."

His jaw tightened at that remark as his glee shifted to something more like concern.

"What did he do? Do I need to assemble my team of Avengers and kick his ass?"

I giggled at the thought of that happening as all the men around the table voiced their willingness to help.

"Thank you, but no, I'd rather you didn't," I assured them. "It wasn't anything horrific, it's just embarrassing that I ever went out with someone as sleezy as he was."

Chris glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.

"Well, in that case, you gotta tell us now..."

The rest of the group nodded in agreement and I, rather foolishly, looked at my uncle for support, but all I received was a shrug and a raise of his eyebrow as if to say 'go on'. So, against my better judgment and with a sigh of shame and regret, I explained.

"He took me out for drinks on my birthday and invited some woman that he met on Tinder to join us," I informed them. "Apparently, without my knowledge, he'd advertised that we were looking for someone to join us for a threesome that night which was his birthday gift to me."

There was a collective widening of eyes and, after approximately two seconds of stunned silence, a howl of laughter came from my uncle. The rest of the group, however, seemed unsure what to say until Paul spoke up.

"Well, was that was you asked for?"

"No!" I shrieked in protest. "I mean, to each their own, but no! Absolutely not!"

My uncle looked like he was about to cry from laughter as the rest of the group joined in with him. All except for Chris, who was biting back a smile with what seemed to be a considerable amount of effort.

"Guys, c'mon, don't laugh at that!" He scolded them. "That's horrible!"

"Oh, don't feel too bad for her," Robert warned him, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The guy took her to Hooters on their first date and she still agreed to see him again."

It was true and looking back, I had no way to justify such a poor choice. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a long sip from the gin and tonic in front of me.

"Shut up," I huffed. "He said he just liked the wings there..."

"That's classic," Sebastian smirked. "That's what they all say!"

"Why did you even agree to go out with a man named Trent?" Anthony chimed in. "There's no way someone named Trent isn't going to be a douche bag."

Chris laughed then, throwing his head back as his hand came up to rest on his chest.

"That's true!" He howled and, as embarrassed as I was by the situation, I couldn't help but feel a different kind of flush at the sound of his heartfelt laugh.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," Susan chimed in despite the smile on her face as well. "It sounds like poor Whitney has learned her lesson so there's no need to make her feel any worse."

Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.

"As long as she promises to make better choices."

I appreciated that he had my best interest at heart, but I rolled my eyes anyway in a show of annoyance.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm swearing off men for a while so there will be no choices made at all, good or bad, for the foreseeable future."

Susan frowned at that information, clearly displeased by my resignation to being alone, but luckily, a distraction arrived at our table and forced a change of subject - a distraction in the form of Jeremy Renner with a very full tray of shots.

Everyone cheered at the sight of him, but my uncle nudged me under the table to draw my attention back towards him.

"This is why I call him the Lord of the Underworld," he warned me. "Be careful..."

"Don't listen to him!" Jeremy insisted, handing out two shots to everyone except my aunt and uncle who weren't drinking. "I just know how to encourage everyone to have a good time."

"Does this group need any encouragement?"

Scarlett's question earned a laugh from the crowd, but Jeremy nodded his head.

"Apparently so or you wouldn't all be sitting in a corner, nursing your first drinks!" He pointed out. "So, drink up!"

He lifted a shot glass in the air and we all copied the action, giving a 'cheers' before tossing back the sharp tequila he'd chosen. The second shot went down almost immediately after and as I felt it burning down my throat, I knew we were in for quite a night.

"So, how are we going to do this?" Chris asked as we stood around a ping pong table with Anthony and Scarlett a bit later in the evening. "Girls against boys?"

"No way, man," Anthony shook his head, putting his arm around Scarlett's shoulders. "I want this one on my team."

"Ouch," Chris smirked. "But whatever, I was just trying to make it fair. If you want to play against the two best players then that's your choice."

"You literally met her today," Scarlett reminded him with a laugh. "How would you know what her ping pong skills are like?"

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my uncle beat me to it as he chimed in from where he sat at a nearby table.

"She's terrible at almost every sport, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for with competitive spirit."

"Terrible is harsh!"

My protest did nothing to reassure Chris though as he shook his head.

"Good thing I have enough skill for the both of us then."

"I have skills!" I insisted. "Let's stop messing around and I'll prove it."

Anthony joined in the laughter at my expense as he bounced the ball on the table.

"Alright, do we all know the rules?" He asked. "The ball has to bounce once on your side of the table before you can hit it back."

"First to ten?" Chris suggested. "We'll let you guys go first."

We all agreed and Anthony bounced the ball again as he prepared to serve. He started off slow and gentle, lobbing it over slowly enough that I returned it with no trouble. However, when Scarlett hit it back, Chris made it clear he was here to play as he hit it with enough force that Scarlett had to leap out of the way to avoid being hit.

"Yes!" I cheered, reaching over to high five Chris. "Nice one!"

"Okay, I see how it is," Anthony shook his head as he tossed the ball back to us for our serve. "No holding back now."

Chris smirked as he easily caught the ball. He didn't waste any time before throwing it back with a hard serve, but this time they were ready for it and Anthony hit it back easily. He aimed it at me, which I could only assume was deliberate due to my uncle's doubts of my abilities, but I managed to send it straight back. His surprise at my success was clear as he was unprepared for it to be heading back in his direction and we scored another point.

"Beginners luck!"

Robert's interjection from the sidelines earned him a rude gesture from me, but I knew he was probably right - unless the last couple of drinks had somehow sharpened my reflexes and I seriously doubted that as I was already well on my way past tipsy.

However, the next few rounds showed that my uncle had been wrong and I, apparently, had quite a knack for table tennis. Chris and I worked together like a dream and were absolutely decimating Scarlett and Anthony. The game was almost over as fast as it started, but when we only needed one more point Chris suddenly appeared to give up. He missed shot after shot and we were quickly losing our lead which was making me lose my temper.

"Dammit, Chris," I huffed, trying to suppress my annoyance as he missed a very easy ball. "Get it together over there!"

"Me?!" He gawked. "I thought you were going to get that one!"

"It was clearly on your side!"

"If that's what you think," he started as he picked up the ball and came back to the table. "Then you need to get your eyes tested, sweetheart."

"Don't 'sweetheart' me," I shot back. "Start paying more attention before you make us lose."

"Whatever you say," he smirked at me before adding: "Sweetheart."

I shot him a glare and - without thinking - I swatted his very hard to ignore, perfectly sculpted bum with my paddle. He yelped, catching the ball that he'd just thrown into the air with the intention of serving and stared at me wide-eyed. I was almost as surprised by the action as he was and I opened my mouth to apologize, but I was interrupted before I could.

"Careful there, Whitney," Sebastian warned from where he sat with my uncle at the spectator's table. "That's Marvel property!"

"They're very protective of it too," Anthony joked. "It's one of their best assets."

"Yeah, so show it some respect," Chris demanded, looking cocky despite the slight red tint to his cheeks. "And anyway, if you're trying to get me to focus then I don't think making me think about spanking is a great strategy."

"Ooh," I giggled. "Someone get me the number for TMZ! I've got tomorrow's headline ready for them: 'Chris Evans likes to be spanked'!"

Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gently served the ball.

"Who said I like to be the one receiving?"

My mouth went dry when I realized what he was implying and several uncalled fantasies flashed through my brain. With that short little sentence, images filled my mind of him using his large hands for something entirely different to what they were currently doing - something that perhaps involved bending me over his lap. I felt a wave of heat wash over me at that thought as my gaze was drawn to him while I wondered if he was aware of the effect that he had on me. I was so pathetically distracted that I didn't even see the ball coming back towards us until it hit me on the side of my head.

Despite my embarrassing blunder, Chris and I managed to get ourselves together quickly enough to still win the game and our victory was promptly celebrated by another round of drinks.

My aunt and uncle left not long after that as they were eager to get home to their young children, but my uncle couldn't go without a few parting words when I hugged them goodbye.

"Chris is a good man," he informed me. "I'm not sure what his stance is on threesomes, but he wouldn't take you to Hooters on a first date, that's for sure."

I could tell what he was implying, but I questioned him anyway. The only answer I could pull out of him was a teasing wink and Susan ushered him out the door with a roll of her eyes and firm instructions for me to call them soon.

I tried to push his comment from my mind because the thought of a man as handsome, funny and intelligent as Chris Evans even considering the idea of taking me on a date seemed like insanity, but I would have been lying if I said it didn't instill a tiny flicker of hope in me. I was fairly certain that he had been flirting with me so maybe it wasn't entirely as far-fetched as my low self-esteem would have me believe.

I tried not to dwell on his words too much through the rest of the evening, but it was hard to shake the idea from my mind. Especially with how tactile he was with me. Whether it was when we moved on to dancing and he pulled me close, whenever we were walking to the bar and kept his arm draped around my waist or when we eventually settled on a pair of bar stools, sitting close enough that my knees were tucked between his.

That was how we were sat, tucked together at the bar, when I finished another drink and realized that the fuzziness in my head and the weight of my eyelids were telling me that it was time to head home. I wasn't eager for the night to end, I wanted to stay in this little flirtatious bubble as long as possible, but I could feel the alcohol induced fatigue hitting me and I knew I needed to leave before I no longer had the energy.

"How are you getting home?" Chris asked when I announced my departure. "Do you want some company while you wait for a cab?"

"Oh, that's okay," I assured him as I slid off the bar stool I'd been sitting on. "I'm just gonna walk."

"Walk?" He raised an eyebrow. "Where do you live?"

"Only about twenty minutes away," I shrugged. "It's no big deal."

I was being purposely vague, but Chris' questions persisted until I finally confessed what neighbourhood I lived in. Once I did, a worried look clouded his face.

"Really? That's not a great area..."

"It's not that bad!" I insisted. "I mean, I'll definitely move once the photography thing picks up and I would appreciate if you don't tell my uncle, but it's not that bad."

"He doesn't know?" Chris raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that could only be interpreted as one of judgment. I nodded in answer to his question and he sighed, tossing back the last of the beer in front of him before standing up as well. "Just let me say goodbye and I'll walk with you."

"No, no, you don't have to do that! Stay with your friends."

"My Ma would kill me if she found out I let a woman walk home alone and I'm guessing Robert would have something to say about it too from what you just said," he insisted, flashing me one of his dazzling smiles. "Besides, I was gonna head out soon anyway."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded in response.

"Absolutely."

I felt bad that he was leaving because of me, but I had a feeling that any arguments would be futile. I followed him around the room, saying goodbye to the few people who were still at the bar before we headed outside. As soon as the fresh air hit me, I really felt the full affects of the several drinks I'd had throughout the night and I was quite grateful for Chris' company on my walk.

"Thanks for doing this. I'm sorry you had to leave early."

Chris had pulled his baseball hat lower on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity a bit more, but the people bustling in the streets were too oblivious or drunk to pay much attention.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled down at me. "It was time for me to go anyway. I've had enough wild nights with Renner to know that nothing good happens after midnight."

"Oh, I see how it is," I smirked. "I thought this was a chivalrous gesture, but it's just an act of self-preservation."

Chris laughed, a deep laugh that made my smirk slide into a grin, as he held out his arm for me to take which I happily did.

"Can't it be both?"

"I suppose. I guess you must be pretty chivalrous to take on a role like Captain America." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks heat up. "Sorry, that was dumb. I sound like some shitty interviewer. Like, 'tell me what aspects of the character you see in yourself'."

I'd put on a bad, faux news anchor voice for the last part of that sentence and I felt Chris' arm shake as he chuckled, but he shook his head.

"Nah, it's fine. It's a fair question," he assured me. "I think I've always been pretty chivalrous. I'm close with my mom and two sisters so they made sure I knew how to treat a lady. But that is one bonus of playing a character like Cap, he has such strong morals and such a steady sense of right and wrong, it inspires me to be as much like him as I can be."

Just as he finished his thought, I stumbled over an uneven part of the sidewalk and was only saved from face planting by his grip on my arm. I flushed with embarrassment again, but the alcohol in my system had me dissolving into giggles.

"Sorry, thank you. Wow, I'd say you really do have some Captain America traits." I flashed him a smile. "Was it like a lifelong dream for you? If you don't mind me asking, last question about it, I promise."

"You can ask all the questions you want," he shrugged and it seemed genuine, not just an expected assurance. "But no, it wasn't. I actually turned it down several times."

"Really? You did? Isn't a role like that every actor's dream?"

"Probably," he nodded. "But I did the Marvel thing with Fantastic Four and even that little taste of fame was almost too much for me. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I'm so grateful for all the opportunities I've been given, but it can be a lot to deal with."

"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. " I was already having panic attacks, so I wasn't sure that I could handle taking that next step. But it's more just the total lack of privacy that comes with fame. Not just for me either, I knew it would affect my whole family."

"That makes sense," I nodded, knowing from my own experience that he was absolutely right. There'd been a few unfortunate incidents on slow news days where articles about 'Robert Downey Jr.'s niece' had popped up after some of my poorer choices in life. "Are you glad that you went for it now?"

"Absolutely! It was the best thing I've ever done. There are times when I still struggle, I don't do well at the premieres with all the pressure and the people, but the whole cast is like a family so the support is amazing."

"It's really sweet how close you guys all seem to be."

"It makes a big difference," Chris agreed as we turned off the main street in the direction of my neighbourhood. "But what about you? Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"

I paused for a moment as I tried to get my rather tipsy brain to figure out the simplest response to his question.

"Yes and no," I finally answered. "I've always loved photography, but I never really considered it as a career until about two years ago. I actually went to university to study accounting."

"Accounting? Wow, so you're a math wiz?"

"Hardly," I giggled. "It was what my dad wanted me to do to guarantee myself a solid career, but I hated it. I flunked out within a year. I'm not entirely sure that my dad has ever forgiven me for it, he was really disappointed in me."

"But surely he just wants you to be happy, whatever job you have..."

"You would think so," I shrugged. "Doesn't feel like it all the time though. He's very against the whole starving artist thing. He's not a bad person, but he's very practical and just can't understand how suffocating an office job would be for someone who likes to be creative. I get the impression that just being around me these days exasperates him."

I felt another blush cover my cheeks as I realized I was over-sharing. It could easily be blamed on the alcohol, but Chris was a good listener and I found him very easy to talk to.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "That was more information than you probably needed."

"You don't need to apologize so much," Chris assured me. "I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to hear the answer."

"Sor-" I paused. "Bad habit, I guess."

Chris squeezed my arm and shot me a reassuring smile before getting our conversation back on track.

"So, what made you persevere with photography in the end?"

"I just really enjoy doing it. I love capturing those unexpected moments, like the awkward laughter in between poses, the moments when people have their guard down and don't realize how beautiful they look. Then, when I get to share the photos I've taken with people and they see themselves in a different way, the joy it brings them makes it worth any financial struggles." As I finished my explanation, a thought struck me. "I actually got some good ones today, just on my phone when you guys first came in, not doing the planned and posed stuff."

They'd all been so excited to see each other even though it was just a few short weeks since they'd wrapped the film. It was sweet and I hadn't been able to resist capturing their reunion.

"Really? Could I see them?"

"If you give me your phone number, I can send them to you," I smiled up at him. "That would actually be helpful. They're obviously different than the ones I took for the actual shoot, but you can tell me if they're any good or if you think I just got the job because of my connections."

I reached into my bag and handed my phone to Chris so he could type in his number which he did before shooting me a skeptical glance.

"Do you really think your connection to Robert is the only reason you got the job?"

"Well, it was all so last minute. I can't help, but assume it's a mix of desperation and some pulled strings," I admitted. "But I know this is my one shot. Robert really believes in people making their own way in life so if I totally blow this opportunity, I know he won't fight for them to have me back again and I wouldn't want him to."

We turned another corner, taking us just a few blocks from my apartment building as Chris answered.

"I'm sure he wouldn't have gotten you the job if there was any chance that he thought you would fail," Chris assured me. "But he is a good person to have in your corner. I probably wouldn't have taken the Captain America gig at all if it wasn't for him convincing me I could do it. He can be very persuasive."

I smiled at that information. I knew my uncle didn't like to take no for an answer so I could imagine how that conversation went.

"He can be very encouraging when he needs to be," I agreed. "Even if that encouragement sometimes comes out in the form of publicly shaming someone for their taste in men."

Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.

"C'mon, you gotta admit you deserved that."

"I did not!"

"He took you to Hooters and you didn't run away as fast as possible," Chris reminded me as if I could have forgotten such an embarrassing decision. "If that's not deserving of some public shaming then I don't know what is."

"Dating is hard these days," I huffed. "Maybe it would be easier if I had giant muscles like you, but it's hard to meet people."

"I think having muscles the size of mine would actually make you less hot."

I couldn't bite back the giggle that slipped from my lips as I looked up at him with a questioning raise of my eyebrows.

"Less hot?" I asked. "That would imply that you think I'm hot now."

"I do," Chris smirked confidently. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words instantly made my cheeks heat up again. I'd baited him into the compliment, but I didn't expect his blunt and honest answer. I was stunned into a momentary silence that only made Chris' smirk grow wider until I giggled once again.

"You're just drunk."

"I am not," Chris chuckled. "Well, maybe a little, but that doesn't change the facts."

There was a grin on my face and I felt like a little schoolgirl with a crush. Chris Evans just called me gorgeous. Any woman who said they didn't swoon in that situation was probably lying.

"That's very sweet of you to say," I told him, trying to play it cool. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."

Chris squeezed my arm again as he flashed me a smile.

My apartment building was in sight now, just half a block away, and I was disappointed that our evening was about to end.

I was comfortable with Chris. He was nice and easy to talk to and I'd had more fun and laughs with him in the last few hours than I'd had throughout most of my last relationship. But despite our harmless flirting, I knew he was too good for me. I knew that I didn't stand a chance with him and that when the alcohol wore off and the sun came up, he would see that. As much as I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I could hardly keep us walking in circles around the block without him noticing so I reluctantly slowed to a stop outside my building.

"This is me..."

Chris looked up and nodded slowly.

"It doesn't look so bad."

"Because it's not!" I insisted. "Honestly, this isn't that bad of a neighbourhood."

"Well, it's not that great either, Whitney."

Another giggle slipped from my lips as I pulled my keys out of my purse, reluctantly slipping my arm from his.

"Your accent makes my name sound funny," I teased. "You don't say Whitney, you say Win-ney."

Chris laughed, but shook his head.

"Now who's drunk."

"Oh, definitely me," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."

He said my name wrong on purpose that time, but there was something about it that put a smile on my face. Emboldened by the alcohol and by his flirtatious nature, I decided to take a chance.

"Do you want to come up for a bit?" I asked. "One last drink maybe?"

Chris hesitated, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head.

"Nah, I should probably get home. I think I've had enough drinks for tonight." His solid reasoning eased the blow of rejection slightly, but it still burned me up inside. "Thanks for the invite though, maybe I'll take you up on that offer another time."

"Sure," I nodded, hoping I was masking my disappointment. "That would be nice."

"Great," he grinned before pulling me into a hug. "It was nice to meet you, Winnie. I have a feeling that we're going to be good friends."

Friends.

Good friends.

His words echoed in my head as I agreed and slipped out of his grasp. We said our goodbyes, I thanked him for escorting me home and I watched as he walked back down the street before I went inside.

Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.

At least he'd made himself clear and subtly let me down easy before I had chance to form any wrong ideas about what our relationship was or could be. It hurt and I would be lying if I said it didn't feel a bit like a stab in the heart, but I was glad that he'd put me in my place before I made a fool of myself by making a move.

I knew I'd been getting ahead of myself anyway. I knew he was way out of my league, but he'd called me gorgeous and walked me home. He'd even given me a nickname. Maybe I'm just easy to impress, but it felt like he was interested. I guess being a big star in Hollywood requires a certain level of charm though and he was probably just used to being naturally flirtatious with most of the women he encounters.

I sighed as I let myself into my apartment and tossed my bag on the table by the door. I'd felt like the luckiest girl in the world only moments earlier and now I was back to feeling like I was a romantic lost cause. I dragged myself through the motions of getting ready for bed and flopped down on top of the blankets - it was too hot to be under them and I didn't have the luxury of air conditioning.

Perhaps it was for the best that Chris declined my invitation to come upstairs, I thought to myself. This apartment was hardly up to Hollywood standards, it was hardly up to my own standards even if it was all that I could afford.

As my head laid on the pillow and my heart sat heavy in my chest, I told myself that it was fine. If Chris wanted to just be friends then I would be grateful that he even wanted that. I made a mental note to send him those pictures in the morning - because I'd promised to and not because I was curious to see what kind of response I would get when he was sober - and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of my new friend.

---

July 2016

And so, we were friends. Good friends, maybe even great friends.

I sent Chris the photos he’d asked for the day after we met and we spent most of that day messaging back and forth. Our friendship only grew from there and, whenever he was in town, we spent as much time together as we possibly could.

But we kept things very much friendly.

There was some flirtatious exchanges, but I respected his wishes and kept the feelings that I'd developed to myself.

My career really took off in the year after we met as well. That first Marvel photo shoot had gone incredibly well which led to several more contracts with them as well as other high profile jobs. It was a long, busy year, but I was grateful and relished in my success.

I'd even managed to move into a new apartment in a much nicer neighbourhood which felt like quite a big achievement and had finally silenced Chris' fretting about my safety. I moved in May, but our busy schedules kept him from seeing my upgraded home for himself until that summer, almost a year after we met. He was returning to L.A. from a trip home to Massachusetts and we hadn't seen each other in months so I was very eager for our reunion. Despite the fact that were still in constant communication, I'd missed him terribly and had been counting down the minutes until he would be arriving at my place.

"So," My friend's voiced echoed through my phone from where it sat on the bathroom counter while I finished curling my hair into beachy waves. "Are you going to finally make a move tonight?"

"No," I scoffed. "Of course not, Hannah. I've not seen him in a while now, I want us to have a good time. I don't want to make him uncomfortable and ruin everything."

"I will bet you a thousand dollars that it wouldn't ruin everything," she insisted. "Honestly, I will give you a thousand dollars if you make a move tonight and it goes badly."

I rolled my eyes as I finished the last curly wave and reached for my hairspray.

"You can't put a price on my friendship with Chris."

"Oh my god," she groaned. "He's told you that he thinks you're gorgeous, he makes time to hang out with you whenever he can and he texts you every single day. He treats you better than any boyfriend you've ever had. How can you think he doesn't have feelings for you?"

I took a moment to spray my hair and give myself one last look over before taking her off speaker and answering the question as I walked towards my kitchen.

"Because he straight up told me that he wants to be friends," I reminded her. "And he's never given me any other signs that he's interested in anything more."

"He doesn't need to give you any signs. When someone looks at you the way that he looks at you that says enough."

"Well, I'm going to need him to say a little more."

Another groan came through the phone as the buzzer to my apartment rang.

"You're impossible."

"I know, I know, and my lack of self-esteem will make me die alone," I said, repeating the words she'd told me a hundred times. "But he's here now, so you're going to have to save your criticisms for another time."

"Just tell him how you feel," she huffed. "I expect a full report in the morning."

The buzzer rang again as I agreed and said my goodbyes to my friend. I took a deep breath and a moment to push Hannah's words from my mind before pressing the button on the intercom.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Win, it's me! Let me up."

I pressed the button to unlock the door and felt my lips slide into a cheek aching grin just from the sound of his voice. It had been too long since we'd had a chance to hang out and I was very much looking forward to a nice evening together.

It took him barely a minute to get up to my apartment, knocking twice before letting himself in.

"Hey!" I grinned, rushing towards him as he held his arms open. I threw mine around him as soon as I was close enough and squeezed him tightly. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too," he smiled. "Nice place you got here, someone's doing well for themselves."

"Oh, please," I giggled, slipping out of his arms. "I've seen your house, Mr. Evans. This is a dump compared to where you live."

"Nah, this place is great!"

"It's definitely an improvement," I admitted as I led him towards the kitchen. "Would you like a drink? I bought that beer you like."

"You didn't have to do that. I would have been fine with whatever you have in," he chided me, but I waved him off and assured him it was fine. "What's the plan for tonight anyway?"

I shrugged as I opened the fridge to get a beer out for him and a bottle of wine for myself.

"I don't mind. Do you want to go out for drinks later or just stay here? It is a Saturday so everywhere around here will be packed with women in their early twenties if you'd like your ego stroked a bit."

I was referring to the last time we'd gone out and made the mistake of going to a bar that turned out to be pretty unfriendly to celebrities. A lot of places in L.A. made it easy for celebrities to go under the radar, but the place we'd gone to apparently wasn't one of them. There was a steady stream of beautiful young women trying their luck with Chris all night until we eventually fled and went back to his place just to give him some peace.

Chris laughed, clearly understanding what I was referencing, but he shook his head.

"Honestly? I'd prefer to stay in tonight," he admitted, but a smirk slid onto his face as he very obviously gave me a once over. "But you got all dressed up and it would be a shame to waste an outfit like that on a night in."

"Oh, this old thing?" I glanced down at the short black sundress I was wearing, a blush covering my cheeks from his compliment. "I just put this on in case we did decide to go out, but staying in sounds good to me. I'm well stocked with supplies."

I gestured to the wine and beer on the counter and the few bottles of hard liquor behind them.

"Then we'll stay in?"

"Sure," I nodded as a thought hit me and I gasped with excitement. "Oh, we can sit on my balcony! It over looks the park and I just got a new little couch for it."

"Very fancy," Chris laughed. "You really are doing well for yourself."

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes. "I don’t think Ikea patio furniture is a particularly high aspiration for anyone."

"Don't sell yourself short! You're finally getting recognition for your talent and that's worth celebrating."

I smiled as I led him through the living room and opened the door to my balcony with a flourish. The heat of July in California hit us immediately, but the balcony was shaded which made it a more reasonable temperature.

"This is nice," Chris nodded approvingly. "Well done, Winnie."

He sat on the couch and held his beer up towards me. I gently clinked my glass against it before sitting next to him. I thanked him once I was settled, hiding the width of my grin with my glass as I took a sip.

"So, how was Massachusetts?" I asked, curling my feet underneath me. "Do you have much more time off or are you back at it pretty quick?"

"I've actually got some time off," Chris informed me. "I think I'll probably spend most of it back home. It was great being there the last few weeks. It just feels better than L.A."

"Most places probably feel better than L.A.," I pointed out with a scoff. "This place is exhausting."

"You should come visit some time," Chris suggested before flashing me a smirk. "I feel bad leaving you here when I'm clearly your only friend."

"Excuse me, that is not true!" I protested, my jaw dropping at his insult as he chuckled at his own joke. "I have plenty of friends, thank you very much. All those liquor bottles on the counter are leftover from my very crowded house-warming party."

"Oh, no, Winnie," he laughed, his hand coming up to his chest. "Don't try and provide evidence that you have friends. That makes you seem even more pathetic."

"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"

"Imaginary ones don't count."

I couldn't help, but laugh at that insult as I shook my head.

"You're so rude. I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because you have no one else." He shot me a very over the top look of pity until I swatted his arm and he dissolved into laughter again. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Seriously though, you should come out to Massachusetts sometime. I'll show you around."

"That would be fun," I agreed. "I'm pretty busy with work over the summer, but I think I'm in New York for a shoot in September. I could maybe tie a trip in with that if you're still out there."

"I should be if nothing else comes up," Chris nodded. "And fall is a great time to come. It's gorgeous."

"I bet. It would be nice to experience a season instead of just this sweltering L.A. heat all the time."

I made a face to emphasize my point as I sipped my drink and Chris eyed me suspiciously.

"I can't help, but get the impression that you're not loving it here at the moment..."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Not really. I thought moving into a better apartment would help, but I'm just kinda tired of it, I guess."

"It can be draining here," he nodded. "Have you thought about moving somewhere else?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"Not really. I'd miss my family too much. I'd have to have a good reason, I think, or know someone wherever I was going."

"Well, you'll always know someone in Massachusetts," he smiled. "And my Ma would love you. I'm sure she'd take you in right away."

"Awe, Mama Evans. I'd love to meet her...Mostly so I could demand an apology for her part in raising such a horrible man."

Chris threw his head back with another chest grab worthy laugh.

"Oh man, I know. My brother is pretty awful."

I snorted a laugh at his comeback, but shook my head.

"Scott was delightful the few times I met him," I informed him. "I was clearly talking about you."

"Me?!" He gasped dramatically. "What are you talking about? I'm a total gentleman."

"Imaginary friends don't count," I repeated his words back to him in a very bad impression of his deep voice and Boston accent. "Yeah, you're such a gentleman."

"It's called a joke, Winnie," he teased. "Try having a sense of humour."

I stuck my tongue out at him in response, but I had to admit that the teasing was nice. I really had missed him while he was away and I was relieved that we fell back together so naturally that it was like we'd never been apart.

Our conversation continued to flow well into the night and so did our drinks. A few hours later and several alcoholic beverages down, the temperature was starting to drop a bit as the sun set, but our conversation was just starting to heat up.

"So," Chris turned to me with a smirk as he sipped the tequila sunrise I'd just made for him. He'd sworn he wouldn't like it, that it would be too sweet, but apparently he was too tipsy to really care. "How's your love life these days? Any more trips to Hooters?"

I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.

"I need more alcohol if we're going to delve into my love life."

Mostly because the biggest detriment to my romantic life was currently sitting on the couch with me, but I wasn't going to volunteer that information. Chris nudged the bottom of the glass in my hand, gently enough not to spill any but firmly enough to lift it slightly.

"Drink up then because I'm curious. Especially after a statement like that."

The irony of someone who was very vocal about how much they hated being constantly interrogated and harassed about their love life trying to do that exact thing to me wasn't lost on me, but I knew he'd keep pestering me until I opened up. I did as Chris suggested and took a large swig of my drink before answering him.

"No, there hasn't been any more dates at Hooters lately," I assured him. "But I did go on a date last week that was disappointing in it's own way."

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? How so?"

"He turned out to be a Robert Downey Jr. fanboy," I admitted, rolling my eyes as Chris let out a laugh. "It was going well until I made the mistake of mentioning that he's my uncle. He wouldn't shut up about him - stop laughing! - It was awful. Honestly, he went on and on! I eventually asked him if he'd rather be on a date with my uncle than me."

"And what did he say?"

I scowled at the memory.

"He said yes and asked for his number." That admission drew another howl of laughter from Chris and I couldn't help, but giggle along with him despite my shaking head. "Honestly, Chris, it's not funny. I have the worst luck."

"You have the worst taste in men." He corrected and I wondered briefly if he'd be less confident in that statement if he knew that he was my taste, even more so when he continued. "You're only interested in the douchey guys and then you're always shocked when they act like assholes."

"That is so not true!" I protested. "How am I supposed to know they're going to be douche bags? We talk for like two days on a dating app before we meet up and they always seem normal!"

"What was this one's job?"

I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.

"A club promoter."

"Exactly!" Chris groaned. "And hadn't the one before him quit his job to try and get famous on YouTube?"

"Instagram," I corrected. "But, so what? I struggled for a long time before my career went anywhere. You can't judge people by something like that."

"For the most part, I agree with you," Chris nodded. "But there are some careers that only attract a certain kind of person."

I huffed at his logic, but there was some truth to what he was saying.

"Dating is just hard these days," I insisted. "Besides, from what I've seen online lately, you're one to talk about messy relationships."

Now it was Chris' turn to take a gulp of the drink in his hand as he raised an eyebrow at my claim.

"Everything you read about me is bullshit, you know that. I haven't dated anyone lately, people just like to make things up."

"Oh, what I was reading the other day wasn't really about who you were dating."

That got his attention as he shot me a surprised look.

"What was it about then?"

"I thought it was all bullshit?" I smirked. "Does it matter what it was if it's not true?"

Chris shrugged.

"Even if it's not true, I like to know what people are saying about me."

"And you don't have a team to provide you with that information?"

"I do," he nodded. "But they don't tell me everything so I'd love to know what you read."

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling shy about disclosing what I'd seen. I took a moment to figure out how to say it before telling him.

"I stumbled across an article that claimed an anonymous source, who recently spent the night with you, told them that you are not particularly skilled at going down on a woman."

Chris' jaw dropped and I couldn't help, but laugh again at the outrage on his face.

"That's fuckin' bullshit!" He protested. "Why would anyone believe an anonymous source? It's obviously not true! Why would they even write that?"

I smirked again as I tried to hold back the laughter bubbling up inside me. Of course, I didn't believe an anonymous source and I felt bad for Chris that mean rumours like that were being spread around the internet, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to tease him about it anyway.

"I don't know. She must have had some kind of proof, they wouldn't have published it without fact checking."

"They absolutely would!" Chris laughed incredulously. "They publish anything that gets clicks!"

I shrugged and tried to stifle the giggles still fighting to come out.

"It seemed pretty believable to me. I'm not trying to be mean, but maybe just take the criticism and use it to grow."

"I don't need to use it to grow!" He insisted. "I have plenty of skills in that area, I've never had any complaints."

"Until now."

"It's not true!"

"Unfortunately, I'll never know..."

I froze, hearing my words echo through my head as Chris' eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before a twinkle appeared. It was a simple statement, but we both picked up on what it implied, especially with the hint of intrigue, almost challenge, in my voice.

Chris tossed back the last of his drink and then shifted, sitting up a bit straighter as the look of annoyance on his face had changed into something almost cocky. I took a sip of my own drink, hoping to drown the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach as the cool evening breeze suddenly did nothing to ease the heat that surrounded us.

"Well, how am I suppose to prove it to you?"

He moved his hand until it was resting on my knee and I had to stifle a gasp at the sensation. We were fairly affectionate and much more touchy with each other than many friends were, but this felt different. There was a tension between us now and I swallowed hard, not wanting the alcohol in my system to make me misinterpret anything.

"I don't know." I bit my lip as he stared me down, a smirk back on his face now. "Why don't you de-describe it?"

Demonstrate.

Demonstrate was the word that I was looking for, the word that was on the tip of my tongue.

Describe was not quite as flirtatious. It was like I'd just set him some kind of essay assignment. I cringed, but Chris was unfazed as he chuckled and nodded his head.

"Alright," he shrugged. "Where should I start?"

Before I even had time to answer, he began his explanation.

His voice was low as he spoke, sparing no detail. He described every kiss, every touch and every little tease. By the time he was describing how much he liked to watch whoever was he was pleasuring, looking up from where his face was buried to see her orgasm roll through her body, I was almost shamelessly panting. His hand was still on my leg, stroking higher and higher on my thigh and I felt more aroused from his words than I had from the last few sexual encounters that I'd had.

He was watching me when he finished speaking, a smirk on his face and his eyes narrowed in a seductive stare as I took a shaky breath.

It was now or never.

Tossing back the last of my drink, I put my glass on the table. Then, I took the glass in his hand and did the same.

He was watching me the whole time, meeting my eyes as I sat back on the couch. My mind was running a mile a minute as the gravity of the situation hit me, but I tried to push all thoughts of doubt from my head as I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes flicked down to watch the movement and that was all the confirmation I needed.

I darted forward fast enough that I wouldn't have time to change my mind and pressed my lips against his.

There was a brief moment when he froze. I felt his hand tense on my thigh and his body seemed more rigid than it had moments ago, but he recovered quickly and a low growl came from his throat before his hands moved to my waist and effortlessly lifted me into his lap.

I gasped at the movement, momentarily taking my lips away from his, but before I could even mumble out any comments on his strength, he'd pressed our lips together again.

It was a sloppy kiss. Spurred on by our mounting tension and the panic bubbling inside me that any minute now he would change his mind and push me away in disgust, our movements were frantic and desperate. My hands slid around his neck, one moving up to the back of his head as if I needed to hold him in place, but his fingers digging into my waist made me think that he was having the same thought.

Eventually though, the need for air forced us apart and I rested my forehead against his as we fought to catch our breath. The pause in our actions gave my brain time to catch up to my body and I immediately felt the nerves kick in.

Logically, I knew we should slow things down and talk about what this meant. My feelings for Chris went deeper than a drunken hook up and I was setting myself up for heartbreak if he wasn't on the same page. However, there was a more impulsive part of my brain that didn't care. I'd wanted this for so long, surely I deserved a chance to just enjoy it.

As if Chris could read my mind, his deep voice cut through my thoughts.

"Are we really doing this?"

I bit my lip, knowing this was the time to voice any concerns that I had, but as I stared into his eyes, I couldn't make myself jeopardize the moment.

"Yes," I nodded. "I'm in if you are?"

A smirk slid onto Chris' face as he nodded as well.

"I've been waiting almost a whole fuckin' year for this," he admitted. "I'm absolutely in."

I felt my heart flutter at his confession. If he'd been waiting for this as long as I had then that must have meant that we were on the same page. No one waits that long for a meaningless fuck, he would have made a move by now if there wasn't more to it.

In an effort to silence my overactive brain, I pressed my lips back against his which proved to be the perfect distraction. All worries and cares slipped from my mind as his tongue slipped back into my mouth and his hands drifted down to cup my ass. I could practically feel them burning through my thin dress and as they squeezed slightly, pressing my hips closer towards his, I could tell that my panties were already much damper than was probably reasonable.

But the anticipation was practically killing me.

My body felt like it was on fire as every brush of his tongue, every caress of my skin, every sigh that fell from his lips against my mouth, had me writing against him like a cat in heat. Often, when I'd imagined what this moment would be like, I'd assumed it would be slow - we'd take our time and savour every touch - but I hadn't factored in just how desperate we'd both be or how quickly I would be filled with the absolute need for there to be less layers of fabric between us.

Chris sucked in a deep breath as his lips moved from mine, sliding lower to kiss along my jaw. I could feel a bulge growing between us, telling me that he was as overeager as I was so, as shivers tingled down my spine from the trail his mouth was taking, I fought through the distractions to speak.

"Chris," I panted. "Let's go inside."

His lips paused their movement as he nuzzled into my neck.

"Not much of an exhibitionist?"

"Not on the first date."

My words were teasing and a shrug of my shoulders accompanied my response, earning a chuckle from Chris.

"Alright, that's fair."

I nudged his head away from my skin so I could press another soft kiss to his lips.

My intention was to then climb off of his lap and lead him into my apartment, but he had other ideas as his hands slid under my thighs and his grip tightened. With one smooth motion and an impressive show of strength, he stood from the couch and lifted me up with him. I gasped and rushed to wrap my legs around his waist for stability, but the smirk on his face and the bulge of his bicep told me that it probably wasn't necessary. He was incredibly strong and it sent another flush of arousal through me at the thought of the beautifully sculpted physique under his clothes.

"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"

I mumbled the words in an attempt to keep my mind busy and stop myself before I started rubbing myself against his stomach. With the way my legs were positioned there was merely a shirt and my panties between us and it was entirely too tempting.

"Nah, got a month or two before that starts again," he informed me, quirking an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

I pointed him towards the door of my bedroom before answering as I tried to keep the shock out of my voice.

"So, you're like, always this strong?"

Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.

"Well, I'm no club promoter," he teased. "But I do tend to stay at a certain level of fitness for when the job does require it."

My jaw dropped at his audacity to bring that up again at a moment like this, but I couldn't stop the snort of laughter that slipped out.

"Shut up," I demanded, letting my thumb stroke against the soft skin on the back of his neck. "Before I come to my senses and ask you to leave."

Now it was Chris' turn to laugh as he gently tossed me onto the bed before crawling over me like a lion stalking it's prey.

"C'mon," he smirked as he hovered over me. "I think we both know that the last thing you want me to do right now is leave."

With that, he pressed his lips back against mine before I had chance to argue. Not that I would have, because he was absolutely right. There was a long list of things I wanted him to do, but leaving was not one of them. In fact, as I let my arms slid over his toned shoulders, I pulled him even closer.

I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to hear every little grunt and moan, I wanted to feel every inch of his body against mine, I wanted to see his muscles quiver and twitch with pleasure, I wanted him inside me and we'd barely even started. A year of waiting would make anyone desperate and, as much as I was revelling in his talented mouth as it moved against my own, I was eager to see what else he could do with it.

Sliding my hands down along his back, I ran them over his waist until they were at the hem of his shirt and, in an attempt to move things along, I slid them back up over his stomach, bringing his shirt with them. I paused, taking a moment to trace over his abs and he chuckled, moving his lips down to nuzzle them into my neck.

"That tickles," he mumbled against my skin as I smiled.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that these muscles are real."

"They are," he smiled up at me. "Are you impressed?"

"Maybe a little," I admitted with a smile of my own. "I'll be more impressed if you get these clothes out of the way and let me admire you properly."

He chuckled again, but didn't fight as I pulled his shirt over his head. The light in the room was dim and the way we were positioned didn't give me an optimal view, but what I could see was enough to draw a soft gasp from my lips.

I'd seen him shirtless and in even less from a few sneaky Google searches and watching his old movies, but seeing it all right in front of me was quite a treat. I had to double check that I wasn't drooling at the sight as I openly stared, my mouth slightly agape.

I realized I was probably ogling him a little too long when a faint blush covered his cheeks and he ducked his head back against my neck. He placed another soft kiss against my skin before he spoke.

"Now, it's your turn."

"Okay," I agreed, swallowing hard. "But just keep in mind that I don't look like that."

I ran my hands up and down his sides to emphasize what I was referring to and I felt more than heard him chuckle as he peered up at me once more.

"I'd be disappointed if we had the same upper body," he teased. "I mean, if I'm being honest."

I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.

"You know what I mean," I insisted. "I'm not sculpted by the Gods like you are."

His head fell back against my shoulder as he shook with laughter before shaking his head.

"You have nothing to worry about," he assured me. "You're too hard on yourself. You're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words took me back to the first night we met as the sincerity in his voice was the same as it had been back then. And there was something about the confidence with which he spoke that had me believing him.

So, as his hands slid under my dress - teasing the outside of my thighs in a way that had me biting my lip to force back a moan - I pushed any negative thoughts or doubts about myself from my mind. I even felt a hint of pride when my dress was discarded, exposing my lack of bra, and making Chris' eyes darken as they scoured over my body.

"Fuck, Winnie," he groaned as he soaked in the sight of my exposed chest. "You're beautiful."

I felt my heart flutter at the genuine awe in his voice and at his word choice. Gorgeous, hot, sexy - those are all compliments I would have loved to receive from him, but beautiful. It seemed deeper, more romantic. There was a brief reminder from the voice in my head that perhaps the importance of such a simple word was a signal I shouldn't be moving forward with this without having a very serious conversation about feelings first, but I was quick to ignore it as I pulled Chris back to my lips.

It seemed he was as desperate to move things along as I was though as his mouth didn't linger against mine for very long before it was trailing a path down my neck. He paused when he got to my chest, letting out a groan as he nuzzled the skin before sucking it just hard enough to leave a faint mark when he moved back. The sight had me squirming beneath him and he shot me a smirk before moving his lips to my nipple.

Gasping at the sensation, I arched up towards him as he continued to nip and tease me. If his current actions were anything to go by then whoever wrote the article that I read was very sorely mistaken. He appeared to be incredibly talented with his mouth and by the time he moved away from my nipple to continue his path down my body, my chest was heaving and I was sure that I was just one gentle touch away from my peak.

However, I was disappointed when he got to the top of my panties and, after licking along the skin of my lower stomach, pushed himself up and moved off of me to stand at the foot of my bed. I whined in protest, wanting him as close to me as possible, but all I got was a smirk in response.

"Patience," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans.

I wanted to pout, to argue that I'd been patient enough in the last year, but any complaints died on my tongue as he pushed his jeans to the floor. As he stood in front of me, only in his underwear, my sense of urgency was replaced by an appreciation for the chance to admire his chiselled body. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view and he chuckled at the look of wonder that I was sure was on my face.

His underwear was the next thing to go and the anticipation turned quickly to shock as my jaw dropped at what he revealed. I could have assumed from the large bulge that he was quite well-endowed, but seeing it confirmed sent a whole new flush of arousal through me. I mumbled out a 'wow' as I bit my lip and tried to take it all in - he truly was a gorgeous man.

"Like what you see?"

His question snapped me out of my daze as he knelt back down on the end of the bed.

"Very much so," I nodded, desperate to feel his body over mine once again. "Come back up here."

"No," Chris grinned as he ducked down to place a kiss on my ankle. "Not yet."

Again, part of me wanted to argue and demand that he return his mouth to mine and get things moving, but before I could even open my mouth, he made his intentions clear - by tracing his fingers up my leg with his lips close behind.

I was quivering under his touch, still leaning up on my elbows when he reached the edge of the panties I was wearing. He glanced up at me as he licked along the lace before he bit into the material and tugged. I lifted my hips to ease his struggle as he yanked my panties down my legs with his teeth. The sight of it had me squeezing my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction, but as soon as my underwear joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, he was quick to pull my legs apart again.

"Keep 'em open for me," he demanded, that damn smirk still firmly on his face. "I've got something to prove."

I giggled at that statement, but did as he asked. I was still watching his movements, until he dipped his head forehead and pressed his lips against me. That first moment of contact was enough to have my head flopping back against the pillows as my hands shot down to grip his hair. I was vaguely aware of him mumbling something about how wet I was, but my brain was too busy trying to process the pleasure he was giving me to take in his words.

He wasted no time demonstrating everything that he'd described to me earlier that night. His tongue was focused and precise in its movements and, contrary to what I read, he clearly knew what he was doing as he easily narrowed in on my clit. It wasn't enough though. I needed more pressure, more friction, and I pushed up towards him with a moan on my lips to urge him on. He wasn't having any of that as his hands looped under my thighs to settle on my hips, holding me in place, but he increased the pressure as he apparently understood what I needed despite my lack of ability to verbalize it.

I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.

He sucked and licked with an urgency that I very much appreciated, flicking his tongue in just the right spot at just the right speed to have me trembling beneath him. I managed to gasp out a warning 'oh god' as my hands gripped his hair even tighter and I fell apart into a puddle of whimpers and moans. My orgasm hit me more fiercely than I'd imagined in my wildest fantasies of this moment and I arched up against him, his name pouring from my lips like a chant as he continued his efforts with a low groan of his own only adding to my pleasure.

As my breathing started to slow, Chris gently ceased his movements and moved his head back before resting his chin on my thigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me.

"Well?"

"I'm going to write my own article," I told him, feeling that wonderful post peak bliss wash over me. "Because someone was obviously very misinformed."

Chris chuckled before pulling his hands from my hips to plant them on the bed and drag himself back over me.

"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."

"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement as his lips hovered above mine. "Now, let's see what else you can do."

Chris flashed me a smile and kissed me briefly before leaning back just enough to reach down and take his cock in his hand. Another moan fell from my lips as he rubbed it against me for a moment before nudging against my entrance and finally pressing inside. He moved slowly, but even so, I winced at the sensation. The slight burn as I stretched around him felt good but there was an undeniable ache as well. Sensing my hesitation, Chris paused and dropped his head for another soft kiss. I waited a moment, until the initial spark of discomfort had passed before pressing my hips up towards him.

He took the hint and continued his slow, almost torturous, movement until he was fully inside. The burning pain returned as it felt like he was taking up every inch of space I had to offer, but it felt incredible.

"Fuck," he breathed against my neck where his head had settled again. "You're tight..."

He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.

"Only because you're huge."

I felt a puff of laughter before he nipped at my shoulder.

"Thank you."

I would have smacked him for his cocky tone, but he moved then and suddenly my mind was blank of anything other than how good it felt. His movements were slow at first, every thrust dragging every inch of him against every nerve inside me, but his restraint quickly waned as his pace increased.

I let out a moan as my head fell back against the pillows and I hitched my leg higher on his hip. He moved his hand to the back of my thigh to hold it in place as he built a steady rhythm that had us both panting as I fought to match his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his short beard rubbed against my skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was like he was completely encompassing me, smothering all of my senses and I could feel the pressure building again in the pit of my stomach in a way that it all felt like too much, but not enough all at the same time. I clenched around him, earning a groan of approval from Chris as I swore I could feel him twitch inside me. The pleasure was building quickly and his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until suddenly he pulled out of me completely.

I felt empty and immediately wanted him back inside of me, my disappointment only growing as he pushed himself up to kneel back on his heels. The only compensation was how good he looked, muscles tight and his cock hard, practically throbbing and shiny from my being drenched in my wetness.

"Turn over," he instructed, his raspy voice bringing me back to the task at hand.

It took a moment for me to process his words, but I giggled as soon as I did.

"What?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"Nothing," I laughed again as I pushed myself up to do as he asked. "You just really are 'clearly' an ass man."

A look of realization crossed his face as he cringed slightly, his hand pausing from where he had reached down to stroke himself. I settled on my knees with my back to him as he answered.

"You heard about that?"

He was referring to the comments that he made on Anna Faris' podcast and I nodded my head.

"Everyone heard about that," I teased.

He chuckled, but didn't deny it as I leaned forward to rest on my hands. The wetness between my legs felt cool from the air in the room and I suddenly felt very exposed, knowing what the view must look like from his position. Again, my worries were brief though as his hands settled on my ass, kneading and squeezing as he let out a low groan.

"With an ass like this though, can you blame me?" He asked, sliding the fingers of one hand down towards the part of me that was practically throbbing with need. My head fell forward as he gently brushed over my clit before sinking two fingers inside me. It wasn't enough, not after the stretch of his cock, but he moved them with almost criminal precision against a spot that made me tense as I moaned with pleasure. "You've been drivin' me wild ever since that night we met. Those black jeans were so tight, it was like you were poured into 'em."

His words were muttered low and quiet and as much as I appreciated the compliment, I was such a puddle of mush from the movement of his fingers that I couldn't string together a sentence in response. He kept talking, whispering words of encouragement and adoration and it only added to my pleasure, but it wasn't until his thumb pressed against my clit that I felt myself start to bubble over. With a cry that I hoped served as a warning of my impending climax, I arched my back to press myself further towards him.

"Atta girl, Winnie..."

His breath was hot against the cheek of my ass and he continued his actions, placing a soft kiss on my skin. I was close, so close, but just not quite there until he did something that surprised me and sank his teeth into the spot his mouth was resting on. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was enough to leave a mark and it was definitely enough to send me over the edge. Moaning out his name again as I pressed back towards him, I felt myself quivering around his fingers as the pleasure tore through my body.

My elbows were quaking with effort as they tried to hold me up while he kept his fingers gently working until my orgasm came to an end. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I knew I wanted him inside me again so I shot him a look over my shoulder.

"Chris," I panted. "Fuck me, please."

His eyes darkened at my request, but he wasted no time, quickly shifting until he was positioned behind me and sliding himself back inside. He felt even bigger in our new position and his need was made clear as his hands settled on my hips to use them as leverage, thrusting into me at a much more frantic pace than he had before.

The stretch and feel of him deep inside me had me moaning and arching my back once again, but I was doubtful that I would reach another peak - until Chris slid one of his hands from my hip, over my stomach and back down to my clit. The sensation combined with his movements and all the noises pouring from his mouth had a tightness in my stomach forming again with shocking speed. It was just shy of overwhelming as my two previous orgasms had left me feeling rather sensitive already, but when Chris picked up the pace even more, his grunts and groans getting more desperate, I leaned into the sensation. It only took a minute or two more before he finally pressed himself deep inside me, stilling as he let out a low moan and I followed him over the edge once more.

After a few final thrusts through his release, Chris leaned forward to press his chest against my back. I could feel how hard he was breathing and soaked in the moment of bliss until my arms finally gave out underneath me. We landed in a heap face down on the bed, but Chris quickly rolled off of me before pulling me tight against his side.

"Wow," he breathed out. "Winnie, that was...wow."

I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.

"It was," I agreed. "I take back any doubts about your abilities."

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Thanks," he smiled as I peered up at him until he let a yawn slip out. "Mind if I stay here tonight?"

His question made my own smile widen even more.

"Of course not!"

He breathed out a sigh of relief at my words as I felt a wave of reassurance myself. He wanted to stay. He wasn't about to rush out the door the moment we were done and I filed that information away as more evidence that we were on the same page.

I felt like I should get up - to use the bathroom and offer my guest some water - but our activities had my whole body feeling like jelly. I was vaguely aware of a mumbled 'goodnight' from Chris, but I found myself drifting off to sleep before I could even respond.

The next morning as I slowly woke up, it took me a moment to remember why I was naked and why there was a pleasant, but very noticeable ache between my thighs. As the memory came back to me, a smile slid onto my face, but when I rolled over to find the bed empty, a flicker of worry sparked in the pit of my stomach. Especially when a glance at the clock told me that it was only seven in the morning. We couldn't have fallen asleep much before one so there was no good reason for him to be out of bed already.

I called out his name, hopeful that he would respond, but I wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't. The dread I was feeling intensified at the silence around me and I dragged myself out of bed with the intention of checking if he was in the bathroom or perhaps back out on the balcony. However, the sight of what was on the floor, or more accurately what wasn’t on the floor, made me pause. My dress and panties were laying where they'd been tossed, but his clothes were no where to be seen.

Trying to keep a level head, I quickly pulled on the oversized shirt that I usually slept in and ventured out of my bedroom, but my fears were quickly confirmed. My apartment was empty.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as I desperately tried to rationalize his disappearance. Maybe he woke up early and went out to get us breakfast and coffee? The dull throbbing in my head told me that I could certainly use a good shot of caffeine and it was a pretty safe bet that he was feeling the same. But, when he didn't return after half an hour, I assumed that theory was just an optimistic wish.

After forty-five minutes of sitting on my couch, watching the door - willing it to open and for Chris to appear - I sent him a text. I tried to keep it low key and chill, but after another hour of staring at my phone, the words "Hey, where'd you go?" started to seem more and more desperate.

By ten o'clock with no response and no sign of Chris returning, I accepted the situation for what it was.

He wasn't coming back.

It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.

We'd risked our entire relationship for one night of wonderful, incredible, but meaningless sex and he didn't even have the guts to stick around long enough to talk to me about it.

One stupid night and I'd lost one of my best friends.

The thought brought tears to my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I was blubbering like a baby as I curled up on my couch. I was devastated and heartbroken. I'd let myself believe that maybe he wanted me the same way that I wanted him because we were so close and I never would have imagined that he would let it go that far just to ditch me in the morning without even a goodbye. Surely, after a year of such strong friendship, I deserved more than that.

But no matter how stupid and naive I felt in that moment, nothing would compare to the level of utter foolishness I felt later that day when I was tiding up and realized that there wasn't a condom in sight.

Part Two

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans one shot #once bitten/more hearts

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar Part 4

(The side characters strike again!)

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Part 2.5 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Part 3

L!MC= Lucifer’s kid | M!MC= Mammon’s kid | A!MC=Asmo’s kid

Let’s get right to it!

The Uncle That Hardcore Simps For His Spouse In the Most Wholesome Way (Diavolo)

Gasp! More half-demon kids? Oh my! Maybe if he tried again next year a kid of his own would pop down! Hang on- he hadn’t slept with a human in almost a century... dang. No kids for him...

...maybe...

Remember when I said Diavolo would try to do those stereotypical dad (tm) things and be hip with the kids? Yeah he keeps doing that.

The number of broken windows related to wayward baseballs goes up 150%. At least that’s how they all figured out that M!MC is nearsighted like their dad!

M!MC had developed a bit of a habit of telling Diavolo about cool human stuff and making the Crown Prince even more interested in the human world than normal.

You may be thinking “what’s so bad about that?” well, the number of yo-yos at RAD went up so high that Lucifer had to ban them.

Belphie and Satan, being the rebels they are, became yo-yo masters specifically to spite Lucifer.

It was sort of like the fidget spinners craze if you were in school for that.

Oh, hi Lord Diavolo. What’s a fidget spinner? It’s this- I should stop talking...

Since no one learned their lesson from the previous incident, Diavolo threw another BBQ.

“Why are we doing this again?” L!MC asked to no one in particular.

“Don’t worry, L!MC. I’ve taken every precaution possible to make sure that what happened last time doesn’t happen again.” Diavolo said and continued in his crusade to cover the entire pathway with sidewalk chalk doodles.

L!MC, Luke, Diavolo, M!MC, Belphie, and A!MC were all busily drawing a wide variety of doodles and drawings with chalk while the other guests milled around nearby. A!MC was in the middle of drawing quite the nice looking Cerberus chibi, while M!MC and Belphie were drawing a lot of stick figures. L!MC and Luke had just finished a wonderful drawing of... an alpaca? Giraffe? Thing...? Hell, even they didn’t know what it was.

Diavolo looked over at M!MC’s stick figure army with a big smile on his face. “So what are all of them doing? It looks like that one’s flying!”

You could practically hear the Addam’s Family theme play as M!MC and Belphie looked at each other and grinned.

“Oh Belphie was just talking about L!MC’s flying lesson fails and I felt that an artist’s rendition was needed.” M!MC explained, he began to point out certain doodles. “Here’s L!MC getting up off the ground, then there’s them actually flying, and this is them falling in the fountain.”

L!MC looked over at the chalk and glared at M!MC. “It’s generous to call that an artist’s rendition. It looks like crap.”

“And what did you draw?” Belphie smirked at the alpaca-giraffe-thing, Luke protectively covered up the drawing (side note, Luke was wearing white and playing with sidewalk chalk, by the end of the day he looked like a walking pride flag).

“None of your business!” Luke huffed.

“And what about that one?” Diavolo seemed completely oblivious to the hostility brewing between the two groups, A!MC was completely used to this and walked away to grab a drink.

“Ah, good eye, Lord Diavolo!” M!MC chirped. “This is a drawing of the time L!MC almost burned down your kitchen.”

Diavolo laughed and gave M!MC a few pats on the head. “Very accurate!”

“You’re so lucky I followed the rules and didn’t bring a water gun...” L!MC growled as they slowly reached for their backpack.

“Yeah... lucky. Real lucky...” M!MC nodded as they tried to casually reach for their bag, Belphie followed suit.

“I’m so glad we all followed the rules.” Luke smiled, his own hand inching towards his bag.

There was a brief moment of stillness before the four of them whipped out their water guns and pointed them at each other.

“This BBQ ain’t big enough for the both of us!” M!MC’s terrible cowboy impression aside, their gun was poised to shoot directly at Luke and L!MC’s alpaca-giraffe-thing.

“Everyone, I know this is a human world tradition but-”

Belphie silenced Diavolo by pointing his water gun at him. “Sh, don’t talk unless you have a water gun as well.”

Deciding not to smite Belphie for treason, Diavolo pulled his own water gun out of his shirt. “Okay, what now?”

“Now, we’re in a standoff...” L!MC glowered at M!MC, the air was practically crackling with hostility...

Until a burst of flames got everyone to whirl around to see A!MC with hairspray and a lighter.

“No water guns! I refuse to go home shivering and covered in grass again!”

Crisis averted. Everyone went to go fail at throwing beanbags into a hole instead of shooting each other.

That was probably for the best... Belphie filled everyone’s water guns with paint.

The Uncle That Does All the Cooking for Family Dinners (Barbatos)

Remember how I said that Barbs liked smol Lucifer? Yea, he likes smol Asmo too. Smol Asmo is willing to admit that they don’t know how to use an oven and is willing to learn.

M!MC is formally banned from being within 50 feet of the kitchen. It’s for the best.

A!MC often tries to get Barbatos to look into the possible futures so they can see if they can avoid messing anything up and A!MC is just so adorable that Barbatos actually thinks about it.

He still says no every single time.

“Could you at least tell me if I have the possibility of doing something embarrassing in the near future?”

“My apologies, A!MC, but no.”

“P-please?”

“The answer remains the same.”

A!MC sighed and went back to helping chop vegetables. Under Barbatos’ tutelage, A!MC’s cooking ability had increased tenfold, they could now make as many burgers as they wanted without worrying about burning down the kitchen.

Pitying the anxious half-demon, Barbatos sighed. “I cannot confirm nor deny a future where your outfit gets ruined.”

A!MC perked up. “H-huh?”

“I cannot confirm nor deny a future where your outfit gets ruined.”

Quickly understanding what Barbatos was trying to do, A!MC quickly nodded and spent the rest of the cooking time carefully taking note of their surroundings.

“Hey! What’re you guys doin’?” M!MC had managed to get in... damn! Everyone must have been putting their best efforts in keeping Solomon away from the kitchen and forgot about M!MC...

“We’re just finishing up, M!MC,” Barbatos had on his ‘oh no...’ smile. “We don’t need any help.”

“Really? You guys sure?”

“Why are you so interested?” A!MC asked.

“Lucifer said that idle hands are the devil’s playthings and that I should go look for something productive to do.” M!MC huffed. “Very ironic phrase.”

“F-fine, I guess you can...” A!MC searched for the least destructive task they could give. “Take the utensils and set the table.”

M!MC gave them a mock salute and grabbed the utensils, as they turned to leave, they knocked a large bowl of chopped fruit over, sending the fruit pieces flying.

Remembering Barbatos’ prediction, A!MC didn’t bother to try and stop the fruit from falling, they only grabbed the nearest big plate they could find and shielded their outfit from harm. The fruit splattered harmlessly against the shield.

“Whoops... my bad. You alright, A!MC?” M!MC asked as A!MC inspected their outfit.

“Y-yes actually...” A!MC turned to Barbatos, who was already getting the cleaning supplies.

“Thank you!” A!MC whispered.

Barbatos smiled and nodded. “You’re very welcome, A!MC.”

Barbatos now has two sorta-children. A!MC and Luke!

M!MC means well, I swear! He just shouldn’t be allowed in a cooking environment!

The Cousin That Your Mom Points at and Goes “Look at Him, He Helps With the Dishes, Be More Like Him.” (Simeon)

Oh man... time for some more embarrassing stories.

“Asmo was the most adorable child, it’s a shame he was such a troublemaker...”

“Really? My dad?”

“What about mine?”

“I think you can guess.”

I cannot comment on Simeon’s help with flying lessons because I refuse to Headcanon what Simeon’s wings look like until canon gives us a GLIMMER. LIKE SERIOUSLY SOLMARE IM CURIOUS-

I have a feeling the children were quite curious as well.

“What do you think his wings look like?” M!MC asked A!MC as the two peered around the corner of one of the hallways in Purgatory Hall.

“I bet they’re super nice. But besides that...” A!MC leaned over and squinted. “Why is Simeon writing with a pen and pencil? He’s writing a book... shouldn’t he use a computer?”

“Bold of you to assume he knows how to use a computer.” M!MC snickered.

A!MC frowned. “Don’t be mean... I’m sure he knows how...”

Simeon picked up his DDD and took a picture of his face, seemingly by accident, with the flash on, causing him to drop the phone in surprise.

“Probably...”

The two surveyed their angel friend like two wildlife documenters, here we see, the Simeon, not in his natural habitat, surrounded by confusing technology...

“Do you think if we scare him his wings might pop out in surprise?” M!MC wondered aloud, A!MC shrugged.

“Maybe... but I don’t think we should bother him...” A!MC whispered. “He looks busy.”

“What are you two doing?”

It took literally every bit of willpower for the two half demons to not scream in absolute terror at the sudden interruption.

Ah... it was just Solomon... in an apron... Solomon... in cooking clothes...

Oh no.

“Spying on Simeon?” Solomon asked.

“N-no...” A!MC giggled nervously. “Just crouching casually in this hallway...”

“...smooth, A!MC.” M!MC rolled their eyes.

“Well, it’s great that you two are here, I made lunch!”

A!MC and M!MC looked at each other in pure horror, they needed to get out of there!

“Uh- um... we’d love to but...” M!MC looked around frantically before just pointing at a random spot behind Solomon. “LOOK! A DISTRACTION!”

A!MC and M!MC ran out of there as fast as their legs could carry them. Finding out if Simeon had wings was not worth being poisoned. Not at all...

Good ol’ Simeon... Mr. Cristopher Peugeot on the other hand- M!MC had some questions for him.

“TSL is literally the most popular book series ever, does that mean you’re completely loaded?”

“Oh, no I’m not, I don’t have any use for human world money in the Celestial Realm. All the profits go to charity.”

“...Dude really?”

“That’s nice of you, Simeon!”

“You didn’t keep any of it..?”

Wait... Who the Hell Are You..? (Solomon)

So A!MC basically has three dads; Fabulous-dad, butler-dad, and wizard-dad!

“So you just... have capes lying around?”

“Yes, would you like a cape?”

“Okay if they don’t take the cape I want it.”

Solomon shows up to RAD with his nails painted different wacky styles every week, courtesy of A!MC.

Though- the unholy combination that is M!MC and Solomon is feared by all.

“Road work ahead?”

“Uh, yeah I sure hope it does.”

Solomon and M!MC’s rampant quoting of vines elicited another glare from Lucifer.

Despite Solomon having literally been alive since the seven rulers of hell were angels, he had kept up with pop culture fairly decently. Decently enough that M!MC had someone that wasn’t Levi to bounce memes off.

“Pff...” M!MC suppressed a laugh at a seemingly normal water bottle advertisement. “Enslaved moisture.”

“I’m not going crazy, right Simeon? You’re hearing this too?” Lucifer tiredly turned to the angel, who shook his head.

“This is just the tip of the iceberg. Solomon quacked at M!MC earlier and they lost their minds laughing about it.” Simeon shrugged, unbothered by the sorcerer and the half demon’s rampant meme-ing behind them.

Lucifer on the other hand, was quite bothered. Incredibly bothered, if you will. “If you two don’t shut up right now I’m going to-”

“Quick! We must abscond!” Solomon turned and heelied away, followed by M!MC. The shoes that Mammon bought to replace the ones lost during the casino incident were apparently heelies as well...

The day was saved when a rock jammed one of Solomon’s wheels and he slammed face first into the concrete. Yikes... that had to hurt.

A!MC had fun glow in the dark bandaids for Solomon to patch up his face. Even though he he could heal himself with magic, he let A!MC do what they wanted because they were just too adorable to say no to.

Asmo has pictures

The Cousin Squad (tm)

(Luke, L!MC, A!MC, and M!MC)

Ah yes, the bab squad. The most adorable group in the Devildom. Surrender your candy immediately or face destruction.

M!MC teases the crap out of Luke, and A!MC tries to stop it, but L!MC is the one who manages to actually make M!MC stop.

Only L!MC gets to pick on the smol angel. GOT IT?!

A!MC and Luke are already baking buddies because of butler-dad so they get along swimmingly.

Poor Luke’s the victim of many of M!MC’s shenanigans.

Luke: Are you sure this is safe, M!MC?

M!MC (about to put mentos into the bottle of coke Luke is holding): No.

L!MC and A!MC get along really well, being honest, everyone loves A!MC.

A!MC makes sure L!MC gets some sleep because they don’t want their cousin picking up on Lucifer’s habit of living off of coffee and coffee alone. L!MC doesn’t get it but they’re very grateful anyway.

M!MC and A!MC were friends from the start. Well... M!MC decided they were friends right from the start and A!MC did not have the ability to fight the power of friendship.

M!MC: You are being befriended. Please do not resist.

Since M!MC is great and amazing like their pop, they took it upon themselves to be the friend that speaks up when A!MC is too nervous to do so.

M!MC and L!MC? Lucifer and Mammon 2 electric boogaloo. Sorta.

L!MC and M!MC bicker all the time but the babs bounce back from their fights way easier.

One minute they’re at each other’s throats and the next they’re showing each other memes.

“There’s no escaping this.”

Lucifer stood between M!MC and the door... their one way ticket to freedom...

“You need to go to the dentist.”

The entire HOL plus the Purgatory Hall crew were getting ready to go visit the dentist to get their teeth cleaned. It was the time of the year that Mammon dreaded most... and his child felt the same way.

“My teeth are fine! Lemme stay home! I’ll hold down the fort with dad!” M!MC smiled and nodded as enthusiastically as they could, but even the most unobservant person couldn’t miss the sweat beading on their forehead.

“Beel.” Lucifer snapped his fingers and before M!MC could do anything Beel had thrown them over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Don’t worry M!MC, the dentist isn’t that scary.” Beel tried to assure them. By the way M!MC was still kicking and screaming, they were not convinced.

“Y-yeah kiddo, suck it up! Don’t be a baby! I’m just gonna take my car there-”

“MAAAAAAMOOOON?!”

“YIKES!”

Lucifer had the important task of keeping a hold of Mammon as the very large group made their way to the dentist’s office.

A devious little idea popped into L!MC’s head as they all sat down in the waiting room. They began to hum a familiar little tune.

“She said be a deeeentiiiist~ a dentist!” L!MC sang to M!MC, who’s attempts to escape increased tenfold after hearing the song.

A!MC began to hum along, not seeming to notice the commotion going on next to them.

“Son be a deeentiiiiiist~ people will pay you for causing them PAIN! She said be a deeentiiiiiist~”

Belphie perked up and smiled deviously as he realized what L!MC was doing, he began to sing along as well. The three were a veritable choir of terror to poor M!MC. Mammon did not understand his child’s terror and was more unnerved by what a great team Belphie and L!MC made.

Satan rolled his eyes and tried to focus on his book, Asmo was absorbed in his magazine, Levi was having a very in depth conversation with the fish in the aquarium, Simeon and Solomon chatted about school, and Luke was stuck watching the train wreck go down.

Thankfully, it was halted by Lucifer. “L!MC, A!MC, Belphegor, stop tormenting M!MC with show tunes.”

“You would have made a good dentist in another life, Lucifer,” Belphie cooed. “You know what they say, the only difference between a dentist and a sadist is that one has newer magazines.”

Asmo grimaced at his magazine. “Is it the sadist? Because I’m reading a magazine from 1843...”

The conversation was interrupted by one of the dental hygienists coming into the waiting room and saying that Mammon was up first. The Avatar of Greed’s final escape attempt was foiled by Satan (not even looking up from his book) clotheslining him.

Thirty minutes later, Mammon emerged from the forbidden dentist room, with the look of trauma in his eyes and eating a lollipop.

One by one, the group went in, A!MC took it upon themselves to try and make the rapidly panicking Luke feel better.

“It won’t be too scary, in the human world dentists are usually very nice.” A!MC smiled encouragingly.

“I-I’m sure that’s true but...” Luke looked around. “We aren’t in the human world...”

Asmo skipped back in and flashed a blinding grin to the group. “Absolutely perfect, no flaws! It’s your turn, A!MC!”

“If you die I get to say I told ya so!” M!MC shouted as A!MC walked into the dentist’s room.

They did not in fact, die because of the dentist. A!MC walked out and gave a thumbs up. “The dentist said they had never seen a kid with such perfect teeth.”

“That’s my baby!” Asmo chirped.

“M!MC, you’re up.” A!MC and Beel had to practically drag the poor kid out of the room and into the dentist area of doom.

“GO BE A DEEEEEENTIIIIIIST!” Belphie and L!MC shouted one last time as the doors shut. Wow, what dickheads...

Mammon probably would have tried to save his poor little bugger, but he was in the middle an impromptu therapy session with Simeon over the scary scraping dentist knife thingie.

Beel was the last to go, and he walked out of the dentist’s room with his face covered in blood, the dentist walked out after him, missing a hand.

“You tasted like toothpaste.” Beel sighed. “Not good.”

“Don’t worry,” The dentist said to Luke, who looked like he was about to pass out. “My hand will grow back in about four to five minutes.”

Luke, still terrified, nodded. L!MC patted him on the shoulder.

“Anyway, almost all of you are fine, but I have to recommend M!MC to the orthodontist.” The dentist flipped through their notepad one-handed. “Their secondary set of fangs are coming out crooked and need to be corrected with braces immediately.”

M!MC sat calmly for a moment, then attempted to sprint out the door. “NO NO NO NO NO!” One of the dental hygienists grabbed them by the back of their shirt and halted their escape.

“Sucks to be you.” L!MC smirked.

“And L!MC needs to fix their cross bite, braces are a strong possibility.”

The colour drained from L!MC’s face as the news dawned upon them. “Pardon, but what exactly are you talking about..?”

“Your top jaw and bottom jaw aren’t properly lined up.” The dentist explained. “It will lead to problems later if it’s not fixed now.”

Lucifer rubbed his temples and sighed. “L!MC, if you try and run away I swear...”

L!MC stiffened and shook their head. “I’m not some coward, I’m not running away. Just... what exactly are you going to do to my mouth?”

The dentist pulled up a few pictures of the braces and explained what would be done. L!MC nodded, and turned to their father with a big smile on their face.

“It won’t be so bad, mind if I go to the bathroom before I get the mold for my teeth made?”

Lucifer nodded and almost audibly sighed in relief. He basked in the glory of having a child that wasn’t afraid of the dentist and faced their fears like an adult-

L!MC sprinted past the dentist’s office, they had busted out of the bathroom window.

“...Beel.”

“Yep.”

A few minutes later, Beel returned with a completely irate L!MC who was screaming their demands to be put down and be allowed to run for the hills. Taking advantage of the distraction, M!MC ran for the door again, only for Belphie to tap them on the forehead.

M!MC collapsed into a snoring heap on the floor.

“FATHER! DON’T MAKE ME DO THIS!” L!MC practically screamed as they tried to wrestle themselves out of Beel’s bear hug.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “L!MC, calm yourself down. It’s just braces.”

“AS EVERYONE HERE AS MY WITNESSES I’LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS! NEVER!”

The half-demons in need of braces were dragged right back into the dentist’s area... poor fools.

“They’ll be okay... right?” Luke asked.

“Of course they will be. It’s just braces.” Simeon patted Luke on the head. “They’ll both be fine.”

The scream that came from down the hall right after Simeon said that did not reassure anyone.

“Hey,” Mammon piped up. “How much do braces cost?”

“From what I know about dental procedures,” Satan rubbed his chin. “A few thousand Grimm.”

“Mammon if you try and run for that door I will cut your credit card into a thousand pieces.” Lucifer growled.

Overall, it was a fairly average trip to the dentist. 0/10 would not recommend. A few weeks later L!MC and M!MC were fitted with their mouth prisons- I mean braces, and the two cousins bonded over their horrific mouth pain...

Seriously- braces suck.

——————————————

So! Those are the headcanons! Four and a half whole parts... phew... To all the people who enjoyed this series, thank you so so much for reading! You guys have been so super nice!

Fret not, I plan on writing more for this universe! From what I know about season 2 of Obey Me things will get... interesting. Stay tuned for more! Or don’t, I can’t force you.

...or can I?

#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me! headcanons #obey me! shall we date?#Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Diavolo #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Solomon #Obey me Mammon #Obey me MC #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #Obey me Luke #Obey me Barbatos #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Fic #Lucifer’s Kid

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creepling · 3 years

Text

am i not enough? (quackity x reader) - apocalypse!AU

( 。・_・。)人(。・_・。 ) | part of the @quackisinnit 1k event !

THE PROMPT IS . . . “ AM I NOT ENOUGH ? “

pairing: irl!quackity x genderneutral!reader (apocalypse!AU)

word count: 3,306

summary: the reader and alex become a duo while coming across each others paths during a zombie apocalypse. tensions rise as they set up camp in a warehouse, where alex begins to confess how he feels towards the reader. (angst into fluff <33)

tw: zombie apocalypse, blood (ment), cursing, guns, death, eating.

It had been three months since the fallen of mundane life. Three months of complete abnormality, everything known to be in existence that was worth caring about; completely gone. jobs, currency, education were becoming a historic relic. The world was put back to zero. Instead of cavemen and dinosaurs, the new species of flesh-eating corpse’s roamed in packs and seeked for fresh meat. They may have been slow, but they travelled in numbers and they could smell you from a mile away. I learned that your scent became less of a problem when you didn’t keep hygenic. My stence blended with the earth and blood and the roamers didn’t catch us out as much; so we used that to our advantage.

I only had one companion, his name was Alex. He was absolutely dumbfounded when I discovered him. I raided his abandoned home looking for supplies, and when I had to kill a roamer that vacaded in his bedroom; I found him curled up in a ball under his bed. He told me that he had been hiding the whole month when he realised help was to never come; so his only plan was to hide out until he ran out of supplies. That became a problem when I attempted to take them. We made the mutual agreement that if I was to take the supplies, he would come with me. I refused to stay and hide; that is how you get yourself killed. Thankfully he agreed to come with me, and we have been inseperable ever since. However, our bond is nothing close to a friendship, we just had to stick together to survive.

Alex’s main idea was to find a group, hoping by now someone had turned one of the surbubans into a mini civilization. We had travelled between three cities however and we found no sign of good company. As a duo, we have only killed one human within these three months. A man who tried to kill us at gunpoint in hopes of taking our things, to which we scarsely saved our lives by ducking behind a bar table. With one aimless shoot, I shot my gun and it pierced through the man’s chest. I saved our lives, but the sight of the man’s lifeless eyes still haunts me in my sleep.

One night, Alex found a two-store warehouse to shelter in while on a supply run. He suggested we camp on the second floor and catch up on our sleep and starvation, since we eventually got ahold of sleeping bags and tinned food. I agreed, but reminded him the stay can’t be perminant. He agreed also, still fixated on the idea of finding a commune.

While I made a fire and cooked food, I obvserved Alex drawing in a notepad. I failed to make out what he was doing so I asked, “What are you drawing?”

“I’m trying to draw a map.” He said to me, “It’s not accurate, but it will give us a rough idea of the roads until we find a map.”

“I didn’t take you as a smart person.” I said, hoping he didn’t think I meant it seriously. It was rare for me to joke in times like these, but when I did, my humour came off dry. Thankfully, my comment made Alex scoff out a chuckle.

“And I didn’t take you for a fighter.” Alex said. Since being with each other for two months, we both naturally adopted different roles that benefitted us. Alex was the navigator, the finder; he seemed to have a good sense of direction and I relied on him to not get lost. He also had a good eye and was always good at finding things such as second-way exits or food hiding in obscure places. For me, my job was a lot more physical. I was a good shoot, I knew how to make a fireplace, or bandage a wound. When things got dirty, I would get lucky and save our asses.

“Your food’s ready.” I said, handing him his warm can of chicken soup and a packet of chips. He thanked me, putting his notebook down and sitting cross-legged beside me. As we ate we sat in silence, the only sounds in the warehouse being our mouths chewing the food. We hadn’t ate in nearly a week. I tried my best to chew my chips before swallowing so I didn’t end up with stomache pain, but the instant flavour shot through my tongue and I instinctly ate them quickly. Alex finished his food within minutes, licking the chip packet and his fingers; scraping every last bit of soup from the can and into his mouth. I reluctantly did the same, feeling a little embarrassed; I have never felt so starved in my life.

“That was fucking amazing.” Alex sighed out, now heating his hands over the fire. I nodded in agreement, collecting the empty tin cans and keeping them next to our things. They will be handy for traps, tying them with strings and hanging them in the woods while hunting would let us know of intruders. It was the small things like that that has made us survive this long.

“Are you gonna go to sleep now? I could keep watch.” I offered, observing Alex’s bloodshot eyes. If we had mirrors, we would flinch at our reflections. Alex looked rough. He always wore his beanie, which he apparently did even before things got bad. He always had a collective spot of dirt on his nose and cheekbones no matter how clean we were, it’s where it always collected the most. His hands were the most dirty, dirt under his short nails and inbetween his fingers. From the rare occasions we touched hands, I felt the softness of his hands, compared to mine that felt aged and rough. His knuckles were stained with blood. Out of both of us, I was covered in the most blood. When I looked down, my hands had a reddish tint, observing more I could see small cuts on my hands from being idle with my knife when striking roamer’s heads. Without having to see, I knew I had sprays of blood on my face from the amount of times I killed roamers. To think when life was normal we cared so much about our appearence, but now activities like doing makeup, brushing your hair, brushing your teeth seemed so pointless. We were slowly becoming used to primitive life and deep down that scared me. I think it scared Alex too.

“I’m tired as fuck, but I know I won’t sleep.” Alex said in a low tone, looking at his hands full of shame. I nodded my head in understanding, knowing exactly how he was feeling. We hadn’t slept properly in months, instead when one person kept watch, the other just lay down with their eyes closed. We forgot what it was like to dream, or to feel hazy. We were constantly alert.

“Since we have no intention of sleeping. Why don’t we play a game?” Alex said. I cocked my eyebrow up in question. What game could we play that didn’t involve making noise and attracting attention?

“We ask each other 20 questions. Normally if you don’t want to answer a question- you would have to do a dare. But hey, wants the point in hiding nowadays?” Alex said, looking at me contently.

“We should be hiding ourselves more than ever, I think.” I said, adding fuel to the fire to keep it burning. “That way no one knows our weaknesses.”

“So you don’t trust me?” Alex said. His question threw me off. It’s not that I didn’t trust him, but maybe I was unwilling to get to know him. I had already lost the people close to me, and I was still in grieving. I was too afraid to get close with Alex. I always had the thought in the back of my head that one day, I might end up losing him. His intelligence may only get him so far.

“I understand.” Alex said, taking back his question. Seeing the hurt in my eyes, he must have realized what I was thinking. He lost his close ones too. We both lost so much, we had a mutual understanding about that. Yet, I looked at Alex, and he still felt like a mystery to me. He always pulled out jokes, even in times like these. However, in moments when he thought I wasn’t looking, I could see the pain concealed in his face. Sometimes I even heard him cry at night when he thought I was sleeping. Maybe it was about time we opened up to each other, instead of feeling like we need to suffer alone. We could be there for each other not just physically, but emotionally.

“Okay then, since it was your idea, you ask the first question.” I said, hugging my legs to my chest. Alex smiled a little at me, going into thought as he tried to think of a question.

“So, what did you do when life was normal?” He asked first.

I let out a sigh then replied, “I had a very normal life. Lived with my family, did average in school, worked a job to get money. I actually had plans of moving out to the city, I always wanted to go to LA. I never really had aspirations, just wanted to be content.” It sounded boring, but I was happy with my life. I had my ups and downs like everyone else. “What were you like?”

Alex smirked and looked away from me, seeming to become bashful. “I was a twitch streamer.” He said. “And had a Youtube channel. God- it sounds so stupid now that I say it. Like it was all pointless-”

“Were you like- famous?” I asked, trying to conceal a smile.

“Um- I guess you could say that. I had millions of followers.” Alex shook his head, “But I also went to college. I was studying law. I was always staying up late, barely sleeping; both studying and streaming all the time. It took up my whole life, that I just kinda forgot about everything else.”

“Well, you were obviously not famous, because I didn’t know who you were.” I jokingly said, nudging his side. That seemed to make him smile and feel less embarassed.

“So how the hell did you learn how to shoot if you lived such a normal life?” He asked.

“I just learned while doing it. My dad kept a gun.” I admitted, looking at the very same gun I had in the holster wrapped around my thigh. “He would teach me now and then how to use it, but I was never a shooter. The more roamers I shot, the more I got used to it.” Thinking about someone close to me made me chew the inside of my cheek anxiously.

To deflate my melancholy, I asked the next question. “Did you always wear that stupid hat?”

Alex chuckled and rubbed the top of his hat. “Yeah, twenty-four seven. I don’t why, I just find it comfortable. My “fans” would joke that I was bald because I never showed my hair.” He said, “God- saying the word fans sounds fucked up . . .”

“Maybe you’ll bump into one of them.” I said, “Heck- maybe there’s a commune right now dedicated to you, trying to find you and keep you safe.”

Alex laughed again, covering his face with his hands. I laughed alongside him, the first time I genuinely laughed in a good few weeks. Looking at Alex, seeing how I uplifted him, it struck a chord with me. As much as I didn’t like to show it, but he made affects on me that were indescribable. He made me feel just a little more contempt, without him I would probably not be able to cope for this long. We eventually locked eyes with each other, Alex’s gaze being longer than I expected. If it wasn’t for the blood, my face would have exposed the blush forming on my cheeks.

“Have you ever fell in love, (Y/N)?” Alex then asked me, which set me aback. The question was out the blew and I think Alex realised that as he looked away shyly, his gaze fixated on the flames of the fire to avoid my gaze. I still stared at him, almost in amazment, trying to conjuct a reasonable answer.

“I don’t know.” I answered. “I have loved people, yes, but- I don’t think I have been in love. You’re suppose to know when things like that happen, right?”

Alex didn’t answer me, he kept staring at the fire. I found myself admiring his side profile, watching how he slowly bit his lip; concealed in thought. I noticed how the glow of the flames contrasted with the darkness of his eyes, how the light outlined his complexion. When I realized I was staring for too long, I looked away, instead my eyes looked out the warehouse window, my eyes tracing the stars in the night sky.

“I feel like I have known you forever.” Alex admitted all at once. “It’s only been two months, but I have gotten close to you more than anyone I have in my whole life. It might sound crazy but- I believe we were suppose to come together that day.”

My gaze turned back to Alex when I felt his eyes lay upon me. His stare was soft, something I only seen in passing times. I was able to admire him for the first time since we met. In this moment, in the dead of night, away from danger and suspicion; I could look at him with full sentiment. I didn’t need to admire him when he was less suspecting it, afraid of receiving decline or making things awkward. In this moment I realized, I may have developed feelings more than companionship towards him. That excited me. But also terrified me.

“I feel that way with you, Alex.” I admitted, “But . . .”

I decided to choose my words carefully. This conversation was heading in a direction that made me nervous. The world is falling apart around us, and I couldn’t help but question our motives. We should be focusing on survival, not developing a relationship that could be destroyed at any second. Once we step out this warehouse, our chances of losing our lives become high. I wasn’t prepared to damage my mental state, it was already bad enough. I realized my long pause was making Alex shift nervously, so I looked at him in hopes my words would slip from my mouth.

I caved in, muttering lowly, “We should get some rest.” I got up on my feet and was ready to grab my sleeping bag and make up a place to rest, until I heard Alex get his his feet and say words that made my heart sink.

“Am I not enough?”

When I turned to look at him, the hurt was glistening in his eyes. He gulped dryly and he fumbled with his fingers. My eyes shifted from side to side as I was stuck with my words. I kept stammering, and I rubbed my face in stress, ready to plead my case. Until Alex jumped in.

“Don’t think I’m only saying these things to you because there is no one else, (Y/N). I have been thinking about this for a while, everytime I am left with my thoughts. I am certain I will still have the same feelings if we met when things didn’t go to shit. I don’t just think this because we have been the only people for each other. I really really like you, (Y/N). And because of the way the world is, I never want to lose you. I never want you to feel alone ever again. I not only want to protect you because we’re a team, I want to protect you because the thought of losing you pains me so much.”

For a split second I thought Alex was about to burst into tears. That was when I did something I thought I would never do again, which was pull him into my embrace. I hugged Alex so tight that I heard him gasp, freeze, until he eventually wrapped his arms around me and held me just as tight. My face buried into the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his body, his soft hands caressing my back and brushing his thumb down my spine in a soothing manner.

“You are enough, Alex.” I said, my words muffled by his body. I reached my lips to his ear so he could hear my words clearly. “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to like me, or be forced to like me just because we were brought together. I was afraid you thought you were stuck with me.”

I anticipated the day that once we meet other life, Alex would slowly fade away and forget who I was. Once he meets other people, we would go our seperate ways. I never knew why the hypothetical idea pained me so much, until now. As Alex pulled away from my embrace, looking me in the eyes in a loving manner that was foreign to me, his hands on my shoulders, I realized why that idea made my heart feel heavy. I never want him to leave me, I want him to always be by my side. Alex’s gaze was enough proof that he wanted the same.

Stimulated by his touch, I was taken aback when I felt his hand cup my cheek. The warmth of his breath breezing against my cheek, I inhaled as if oxygene was nonexistent. I never realized the proximity between us was slowly closing in and when I did my eyes fluttered shut. Alex hesitated for a split second before pressing his soft lips against my own. My neck bent slightly backwards and I shifted my head to the side to deepen into our kiss, my blood-stained hands grabbing the edges of his open jacket and holding him dearly close. The heat of the kiss intermingled with the heat from the fire, my cheeks and ears grew hot. Alex’s hands were surprisingly warm as he reached his hands under my shirt, pressing his fingers and palms on the middle of my back before running his touch down my spine. My breath became shaky and I felt my legs grow heavy under me, my hands cupped the back of his neck to keep myself uplifted, and luckily Alex’s arms held my weight and pressed my body against his. It felt like hours had went by between our lips moving in sync, our tongues grazing our bottom lip’s, our hands moving and resting on different parts of our bodies. His touch felt contagious, his kisses ranging between soft and passionate. I didn’t want to stop, I never wanted to let go. Between kisses I would mutter you are enough, you are enough which made Alex smile against my lips.

That night, everything we had to worry about became last priority. The focus all throughout was each other, making up for the days where affection couldn’t be shown. In the dead of night, there wasn’t a roamer in sight. Instead of hearing narls and groans or screams of pain, there was only the faint sounds of nature. The full moon glistened, as if to be a prediction for the emotions spilling between us. I promised myself from this moment on, as I admired Alex, I would protect him no matter what. I will make sure he always feels safe as long as he is beside me. He will always be enough, if not more.

TAGLIST: @momo-has-a-gun @diggorysmalfoy @quack42069 (join my taglist)

#quackity x reader #irl!quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #gender neutral reader #quackity x gn!reader #quackity imagine #quackity fanfic #mcyt fanfic #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #youtuber imagine #quackity angst #quackity fluff #apocalypse!AU #mcyt apocalypse au #quackity apocalypse au

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cali-holland · 4 years

Text

Risk It All- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Osterfield!Reader

Prompt: (Royalty!AU) As the princess, you have to hide your relationship with Tom, the stable hand. When your mother sets up a jousting tournament with the prize of your hand, Tom must risk it all to win your heart.

Word Count: 4100

A/N: This is for @geminiparkers ‘s writing challenge under the AU brother’s best friend and the scenario forbidden love and special thanks to @duskholland for proofreading this and correcting me when i literally made up a word

~ Also a melee is a tournament where two groups of knights reenact a battle, and i’m pretty sure we all can picture a joust… but i’m not historically accurate with any of this so oh well

Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist

*Moodboard is mine, pics used are not *

~~~~~~

The castle was quiet that afternoon. Harrison was off attending to some royal duties with your mother, and you found yourself making your way down the familiar path to the stables on the far side of the castle. You smiled to yourself as you crossed the cobblestoned road. You pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside, your gown catching the stray pieces of hay that lay on the floor. Your smile grew wider as you saw a familiar figure, reorganizing the hay bales to make room for tomorrow’s import.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Tom said, not even sparing a glance in your direction as you came over to him.

“Are you really going to tell a princess what to do, stable boy?” You asked teasingly, a smile playing on your lips. “No one followed me. We’re safe.”

With a laugh, Tom turned around to face you, dusting the hay from his hands on his raggedy pants. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. You leaned into his touch, your hands roaming underneath his old shirt, ghosting over his abs that rivaled those of any knight in the kingdom. He pulled away, regretfully admitting, “We shouldn’t- the other stable hands will be here soon.”

“Right.” You let out a small sigh, but neither of you made any effort to move out of each other’s arms. “I wish that we could be together, really together.”

“I wish that, too, but you know the law.”

It was a risky business, all of this sneaking around to be together. You were the princess, you weren’t allowed to marry anyone less than a knight, and Tom was a stable boy, whose family served yours for generations. Despite his status, you would trade your silk gowns and other luxuries for him in a heartbeat, but he wouldn’t let you. Tom feared you’d be unhappy if you left your family, your status, your life for him. The rendezvouses were your only chance at being happy with Tom, even for a few moments. If anyone found out and turned Tom in, he could face dire consequences, and it would be out of your power to protect him.

“I have a gift for you.” Tom said, his hand left your side to pull the gift from his pocket. You looked in awe of the delicate necklace. With one diamond hanging from the silver chain, it was simple, but beautiful. It was much smaller than any of your necklaces, ones that had been made from the best jewels in the world, but it was by far the best necklace you’d ever received. You felt a pit grow in your stomach as you realized that this necklace must’ve cost a fortune by Tom’s standards. “I know it’s not much, but I had the village jeweler make it special, just for you.”

“Tom, it’s beautiful.” You smiled at him, “How much did this cost you?”

“Don’t worry about it, princess. It’s a gift, I don’t expect or need repayment.” He insisted, holding up the necklace, “May I?”

You nodded, slowly turning around so that he could put it on you. The chain was long enough that you could conceal the diamond underneath your dress because, while you admired it, it would draw attention to the two of you. You turned back around in Tom’s arms and leaned in to kiss him again.

Hearing the handle to the stable door creak, you and Tom stepped away from each other’s embrace. He returned to his work, moving the bales of hay around, while you turned to your horse, acting as if you were simply in the stable to care for her. When Harrison stepped through the door, you knew you were being beckoned away from Tom.

“Mother would like to see us.” Harrison told you, and you nodded, stepping away from your horse. He turned to Tom, who had paused his actions, “I’ll be going on a hunt tomorrow with the knights. You should come.”

“I’ll have the horses ready.” He replied. Although Tom was not a knight, Harrison always treated him better than a regular stable boy. In fact, you’d dare to say that Tom was Harrison’s best friend with how the two often spent time together, whether it be on a hunt or training. Tom was a knight, all but in name.

You followed Harrison out of the stables, not bidding Tom more than a simple goodbye. As Harrison fell into step beside you on the way to the throne room, you spoke up, “Did mother say why she needed us?”

“No, but it sounded important.” Harrison replied, his shoulders shrugging a little. “What were you doing in the stables?” It wasn’t an accusatory question, but it certainly felt like one. “I was tending to my horse.”

“That’s what the stable hands are for.” He stated. A small smirk grew on his face. In a hushed tone, he teased, “Was there a certain stable hand you wanted to tend to?”

You bit back an unladylike scoff, “There most certainly was not.” You insisted, acting as if you weren’t currently wearing a pendant from said stable hand.

“I have a hard time believing that.” Harrison dropped his voice even quieter as you two came to a halt outside of the throne room.

You didn’t have time to question him before the grand doors opened, and you two were greeted with the guards lining the throne room and your mother sitting rather anxiously on her throne. Hesitantly, you and Harrison stepped forward until you were directly before her.

“Mother, you called for us.” You said graciously.

“Us? No, I asked Harrison to find you, so that I may speak with you alone.” She corrected you, and you looked over at your brother skeptically.

“I thought perhaps Y/N would feel more comfortable with my presence.” Harrison explained. When your mother just nodded, you spoke up again.

“Have I done something wrong?” You asked, your eyes trailing back to your mother in confusion.

“No, my dear. It has come to my attention, though, that you have caught the eye of suitors within and outside of our kingdom.”

“Suitors?” You didn’t want to believe that you heard her right. Surely, she couldn’t mean-

“Prospective husbands. Princes and dukes alike have taken notice that you are of age and without a suitor.” Your mother stood from her throne and stepped towards you, taking your hands in hers. “I have made the decision that there will be a tournament for your hand.”

“Do I not get a say in any of this?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady, but your racing mind, clammy hands, and aching heart made that difficult. All you could think about was Tom and the beautiful necklace secretly dangling around your neck.

“No, our family has done tournaments with the price of the princess’s hand for centuries. Your father had to win a tournament to earn my hand, remember? It will start in two days' time.” You wanted to say something, wanted to tell her that your heart already belonged to the best suitor, but your tongue was caught in your mouth. You wordlessly nodded, though it broke your heart to do so. Your mother smiled and let go of your hands to return to her seat, “It is settled then. The princes and dukes shall arrive tomorrow. We need more servants in the castle to tend to our guests.”

“Will they not bring their own?” Harrison asked, and she shook her head.

“We cannot expect our guests to bring their servants with them. After tomorrow’s hunt, I want all the stable hands to serve our guests.” She insisted. You spared a glance at Harrison, and you could’ve sworn you saw his nose twitch in disapproval. “That’ll be all.”

You and Harrison silently made your way out of the throne room. As Harrison tried to rush off to his bedroom, you grabbed him by the arm, effectively stalling his plans.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “You knew there was going to be a tournament for my hand, and you didn’t say anything. How long has mother been planning this?”

Harrison let out a sigh, “She’s been corresponding with the other princes and dukes for a month, but I promise I only found out today. I wanted to stay because I knew you’d be crushed by the news.”

“Crushed? Harrison, my life is being sold off to the champion of a vicious sport. I’d say I’m well passed crushed.” There was no hiding the bitterness in your voice. You let go of him and turned to leave to your own chambers.

Quietly, Harrison called out to you, “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Harrison didn’t even have to say the name because you both clearly knew it was Tom he spoke of. You looked back at your brother and with a sad nod, you answered, “Yes. He is not a prince or a duke, and I love him anyway.”

The corridor was quiet for a moment before Harrison spoke up again, “Your secret’s safe with me, but be careful. You both mean a lot to me.”

That night, you hardly slept. You couldn’t stop thinking about Tom and the fact that, in mere hours, you’d be meeting the men championing for your hand. When the sun rose, you stood from your bed and watched from your window as the night was replaced by morning. From your tower, you could see Harrison and his group of knights walking across the courtyard to the stables with the castle’s best hounds, where Tom was waiting for them. As the men all settled onto their horses, Tom looked up, his eyes catching sight of you from your window. Though he was far away, you could tell there was a smile on his face.

He didn’t know yet. You didn’t have time to sneak off to see him yesterday, and you weren’t sure how to deliver the news. You stayed at your window, watching as they all rode off through the castle gate and into the nearby woods, the hounds close at the horses’ sides. A knock on your door from your own servants told you it was time to get ready for the day.

“Bit slow this morning?” Tom asked Harrison as he rode beside him on the familiar trail. The knights were ahead of them, keeping up with the hounds as they searched for today’s kill.

“Not particularly looking forward to tonight.” Harrison muttered, an unimpressed look on his face.

“My mother said there were guests coming. Who are they?” It was a simple question, but it stirred a regretful feeling in Harrison. Tom’s mother was the queen’s closest servant— she knew exactly who was coming. Why she didn’t tell Tom, Harrison didn’t know, but he had a guess.

“Suitors.” He replied. “There will be a tournament, beginning tomorrow for Y/N’s hand.”

Tom immediately stopped his horse, coming to a standstill in the forest as the rest of the nights rode on. Harrison halted as well and turned his horse so he could face his friend. “Oh, I didn’t realize-“

“Tom, I know about you and Y/N.” When he registered the fear in his friend’s eyes, Harrison quickly spoke up, “I won’t tell. You’ve always been a good friend to me, and you don’t treat me differently as the crown prince. I have no reason to wish you or my sister that kind of misfortune.”

“Thank you.” Tom said, taken aback by the prince’s words. They continued their walk as Harrison continued his explanation of the dire events to come.

“My mother’s put together an entire tournament, and the suitors will come tonight. She also expects the stablehands to act as servants to the guests.”

“You mean I’d have to serve one of the suitors?”

“I’m afraid so.” Harrison let out a sigh, and Tom grimaced at the thought. Not only was he going to have to sit back while you married some noble prince or duke, but now he’d have to humiliatingly serve your future husband. Harrison paused in thought, “When we get back to the castle, remind me to look over the tournament scrolls.”

“What use are the tournament scrolls to you?” Tom asked.

With a small chuckle, Harrison responded, “I think I know a way you and Y/N can be together.”

Tom opened his mouth to question him, but the hounds barking ahead pulled them back to the reality of the hunt. The two hurried to catch up to the other knights, ready to partake in the hunting party.

That afternoon, when Harrison, Tom, and the rest of the hunting party returned, the word had spread around the castle of the coming guests. While Tom and the other stable hands took care of the horses, Harrison made his way to the castle library. He searched through the library until he came across the specific tournament scroll he had been searching for. With a smirk on his face, he took the scroll and hurried to find Tom before the welcoming ceremony.

Meanwhile, you adjusted the tiara on your head as you looked yourself over in the mirror again. As much as you dreaded this moment, you just wanted this ordeal to be over with; you’d never be truly happy if you weren’t with Tom. When your servants left you alone in your room, you slipped the small diamond necklace on, letting it fall underneath the material of your dress.

“Y/N? It’s time, my dear.” Your mother called to you from the other side of the door. You stepped out of your room, smiling at your mother through your discomfort.

“I’m ready.” You told her. You walked with your mother down the halls and stairs to the throne room. Your names were announced, and everyone parted ways for the two of you to walk down the aisle. Your mother took her seat at her throne, right in the middle, while you sat in your own throne beside her. Harrison was already seated at this throne on the other side of your mother, his own crown shining brightly under the candlelight. Beside your throne was a small desk, and the royal advisor was seated there with a quill and scroll, prepared to take down the names of the princes and dukes.

By just your third “it’s a pleasure to meet you”, you were bored with the welcoming event. None of the princes or dukes or even knights caught your eye as potential husband material. Still, you remained polite in your kind smiles and words of faux genuinity.

“Prince Arthur, your highness.” A young, blond prince said, bowing respectfully to you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You had heard many stories about him; he was the best jouster in his kingdom. He was by far the most attractive of the suitors. Your eyes didn’t remain on the prince for long as he moved on, and you immediately recognized the next suitor.

“Tom, your highness.” A nervous, yet determined smile played on Tom’s lips while he looked at you. Before you could speak, there was a call from the crowd.

“He’s a stable boy, not a knight!” The bystander exclaimed. Tom’s eyes shifted anxiously over to Harrison, who calmly stood up.

“If he is a stable boy, he cannot-” Your mother started, but Harrison shook his head.

“By law, a tournament is open to any man of age, not exclusively knights or princes or dukes. Tom may proceed in the challenge.” He announced, definitively.

As your mother went to speak again, you cut her off, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You bit back a smile as Tom proudly walked off.

The names went on, and, with each additional suitor, you wondered if Tom could succeed in this tournament. Tournaments were a demonstration of military and combat skills, both of which he had limited experience of in comparison to the others. It was a deadly tournament; you just hoped he knew what he’d gotten himself into.

While Tom was allowed to enter, he still had to act as a servant to the castle guests, which meant that, later that evening, while all of the other suitors were asleep, Tom had to work. He was used to cleaning equestrian tack as a stable hand, but he wasn’t used to cleaning them in the dead of night. He was already tired from the preparation for and cleanup after the hunt, and now he was stressed over this upcoming tournament. At this rate, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to clean his own armor and tack in time.

Meanwhile, you could hardly sleep again. From your window, you could see the candle light illuminating the stables, and you knew Tom was down there. Grabbing a couple blankets, you slipped out of your bedroom quietly. You snuck down to the stables, pushing the door open as quietly as possible. Perched on a hay bale as he worked on polishing a helmet, Tom jumped from the sudden noise.

“You scared me.” He said, quietly, bags already forming under his eyes.

“I thought you might need some company.” You replied, sitting beside him on the hay. As you draped a blanket over his shoulders, he smiled gratuitously.

“You should be sleeping.” Tom insisted. He began to polish the helmet some more, making sure it was spotless.

“So should you.” You cuddled into his side, seeking his warmth from the cold night air in the stables. “It’s going to be dangerous, you know that?”

“Yes, but Harrison and I have been training together, so I can work a sword.” He replied. “Plus, how hard can a melee be?”

“Tom, it’s a joust, not a melee. I don’t think I’d let you fight if it was a melee.” You laughed a little, and he paused his polishing.

“You don’t think I can win a melee?” Tom asked, looking down at you on his shoulder. You sat up to face him properly.

“I don’t know. These suitors all have military backgrounds. And I’d rather run away with you and abandon my title than have you die trying to win my hand.” You answered, quietly. “A joust isn’t nearly as dangerous, but please, be safe.”

“I will.” Tom gave you a quick kiss, “And I will win tomorrow.”

“My knight in shining armor.” You smiled as your hand ran through his hair, appreciating the messy curls.

“I’m no knight, and I don’t know about shining, but it’s armor.” He nodded over to the rusted armor in the corner. “I’m borrowing it from the widowed milkmaid.”

“Tom,” You laughed a little, knowing exactly how that milkmaid was widowed, as if the crack in the breastplate wasn’t a give away enough. “You can’t wear that.”

“What do I wear then? It’s a bit late for me to ask the blacksmith to custom make armor.” He joked with a small yawn, and you shook your head at him, cupping his cheek.

“I’ll handle it.” You assured him as you pulled him in for another kiss. Tom dropped the helmet and the polishing rag, the metal clanging on the cobblestone of the stable floor, and his hands found your waist. Though the next few days would determine your future, tonight was all about Tom.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of the stable door opening. It took you a moment to figure out why you were in the stables before you realized that you had fallen asleep there in Tom’s arms. Tom woke up startled, just the same. You both thought that this could be it, the end of it all, until you realized who was there.

“Y/N, get up before your servants come looking for you.” Harrison urged. You and Tom hurried to stand up and gather blankets. “I thought I told you both to be careful.”

“It was an accident.” You stated, but he just sighed.

“Come on, I need to sneak you into the castle. We can’t have the suitors seeing you like this.” He gestured to your nightgown, which covered you modestly, but he was right; it was rather unladylike to be out in a nightgown. As you and Harrison went to leave the stables, Tom started to finish his job from last night, cleaning Prince Arthur’s armor. “Oh, and Tom, ride my horse for jousting today. He’s never lost a joust.”

Tom looked at his friend incredulously before looking over at the stallion in the stall. “Thank you.”

“That reminds me,” You spoke up, “Harrison, where’s your old armor?”

In just a few hours, it was time for the joust. You sat in the front row of the arena with your mother seated beside you. The suitors began to emerge from their private tents along the sidelines as the announcer called out each name. Harrison came out of Tom’s tent, bearing your own house sigil, and made his way to his seat beside you. Your brother gave you a playful nudge as Tom’s name was called and he stepped out of the tent. It was odd to see him wearing the same armor Harrison had retired just last year, but you felt a sense of pride overcome you. The armor wasn’t bad, but the royal men got new armor every year; besides, Harrison hadn’t been to war, so it wasn’t used much.

The tournament’s first round began, and each suitor got ready for their respective joust. It was a simple jousting tournament; each suitor would take on one other suitor, and the winner would progress to the next round. The rounds would progress until there was one distinct winner left.

You did your best to conceal your nerves for Tom, though one of your hands played with the small chain around your neck. As Tom mounted his horse (technically Harrison’s horse), he got ready for his joust- the first one of the day. He picked up his wooden lance and adjusted the helmet to cover his face. You watched with bated breath while he and his opponent took off, riding towards each other at full speed. A breath of relief coursed through you as Tom’s opponent was struck, falling to the ground.

He had won, but it was the first of many jousts that he had to win. Removing his helmet, Tom sent you a cheeky wink, one that did not go unspotted by your mother beside you. He dismounted and led the horse away, leaving the arena for the next joust.

“So far, so good.” Harrison mumbled to you. He wanted Tom to pull this off, just as much as you did.

“Let’s hope your horse’s winning streak keeps up.” You whispered back to your brother.

The jousting tournament continued on, and every time it was Tom’s turn, the same hopeful nerves came back. Finally, it was down to the last two suitors- Tom and Prince Arthur. As the two got on their horses and into position at either end of the arena, Harrison’s hand slipped into yours, reassuringly squeezing it.

“Come on, Tom.” You muttered under your breath, eyes fixated on him. You held your breath anxiously as the horses went barreling towards each other. Your heart jumped when Tom’s lance made contact with the prince’s armor, and he went crashing to the ground. Tom took off his helmet, and his eyes immediately found you, smiling victoriously.

“He’s a stable boy.” Your mother breathed out incredulously.

“Mother, if he must be a knight to marry Y/N-” Harrison started, ready to wholeheartedly defend Tom, but she cut him off.

“Please, Harrison.” She shushed him, “Prepare the other knights. We’ll have a knighting ceremony this evening. Now,” She paused, smiling at you, “I do believe Y/N has a victor to go meet.”

You looked at your mother in surprise, a smile of disbelief on your face. Wordlessly, you stood up as Tom made his way over to the three of you. He bowed before you, making you let out a laugh. “You won. You did it. And mother will make you a knight, too.”

“A knight? We can really be together then?” He asked you, and you nodded. Without hesitating, Tom wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss, happy that now he could kiss you publicly. “I love you, my princess.”

“And I love you, my future prince.”

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart @joyleenl @t-o-m-hollands @lonikje @sleepybesson @sunkisseddreamer @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @gorrillaglue23 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkeys @duskholland @biebsmylife95 @dummiesshort @perspectiveparker @miraclesoflove

Tom Tag List: @quaksonhehe @tomkindholland

#chloe1kwritingchallenge #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland fic

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aweecrush · 3 years

Text

Prologue

Tuesday, October 16th 2007

“Jesus, I can’t believe you’re actually in the fucking plane - took you long enough! If I had known it took a wedding to get your arse back home, I would have had a couple by now, for God’s sake .”

“Michelle, you promised you wouldn’t start! ” Clare’s reproachful voice rose.

“Aye, first, I didn’t promise shit, and second, I told you, she’s not chickening out so chill out - right Erin?”

Despite the culpability and shame pricking at her skin, her heart warmed at their traditional bickering she wished she’d hear more often. At their voices. And, most of all, at knowing that in a few hours, she’d get to hear them for real.

Feck, she’d missed these eejits.

“Well, I’m not actually in the plane yet, we’re waiting to board. And then I still have that stupid long flight, and then the stupid long wait at stupid London, so don’t wait up - but yes, I’m definitely on my way,” she promised, earning herself an earful of high pitched cackles and happy swears.

Her heart welled up.

“So, how is the bride doing? She wasn’t home when I called earlier, and all Mammy could talk about was how the caterer was driving her crazy and how aunt Sarah almost set her own hair on fire trying a new hairdo she’d like to nail for the ceremony.”

Michelle snorted. “ Yeah, hilarious so it was. You should have seen your dad’s face, mental. ”

“It was terrifying,” Clare corrected, apparently still shaken.

Then, perked up. “Orla’s going to look so cute though - I can’t wait for you to see the dress!” Erin tried to ignore the sting of not having been there for such an important moment.

“We’re still trying to convince her out of drawing anything on it, but I’m not sure we’ll win this one, to be honest. Also, we’ve got everything almost ready to go for the bachelorette party, although I do need you to help me stop Michelle from bringing the tons of drugs she wants to, because - ”

“For feck’s sake Clare, Orla would love it! The girl is tying the knot, she deserves to get properly shit faced.”

“She said she wanted something small!”

“She said she would have liked to have a little something with just the five of us the night before. She never said anything about the actual bachelorette party being small - or fucking boring for that matter!”

“Just the five of us?”

The words spilled out before she could stop them, stupid that she was. At the other end of the line, the girls went uncharastically silent, and Erin cursed herself.

Feck.

“I mean, that’s grand. It’s cool, I thought it was just going to be one big night for the bachelorette party before the big day, but - I mean, that’s even better! Grand - cool.”

Christ on a bike, that was pathetic. She was.

“Yeah...The thing is, Orla wanted a wee night with just us Derry girls the night before the bachelorette party, hanging at the bar and stuff you know, because - Well, just because.” Poor Clare was rambling now, in a typical panicked Clare kind of way. “And we thought - Well, then we thought about it, and it turns out it’s not going to work, just timing-wise and stuff, so - “

“So the point is we dropped it.”

“Right. Yep.”

Again, silence, only betrayed by the hammering in her chest that she hoped her friends wouldn’t hear over her cellphone.

“Oh okay, well - that’s a shame.” Her casual slash over the top fake disappointment tone did nothing to help convince anyone, of course, herself included. She winced.

She promised herself it wasn’t going to be like this, though. She wasn’t going to ruin this for anyone - not a chance.

For God’s sake, catch yourself on Erin.

Pushing all dangerous thoughts aside, Erin took a deep breath. “In any case, I’m sure it’ll all be fine - really fine.”

There were another few seconds of silence, and she could just picture the worried look they were sharing - probably very similar to the one they had that particular, fateful day. To the one they had again when she told them she was moving away. Then -

“You bet it’ll be fine - feck, it will be absolutely brilliant is what it is! Wait til you see my dress, Erin - my tits look amazing in it.”

As it turned out, running all over the city for work for the past ten days and dangerously flirting with the limits of sleep deprivation did have a perk: her whole, eight hours flight, Erin slept like a log.

(Truth was, she could have done without the look of contempt and the ‘Miss? You have drool on your face’ from that stupid flight attendant who woke her up when they landed, but still - all in all, it went well.)

The wait at Stansted airport, however, was pure hell.

Because of the jitters, mostly.

Growing up, despite how much she loved to complain about them, Erin had never actually considered living away from her family. Well, not that far, at least - she’d always known she would leave Derry after high school, which they did, and it was glorious. War or not, she had a pretty nice life as a child and then a teenager, but those college years and the first ones that had followed - they were the best of her life.

Still, it was only Belfast at the time, and Belfast was a two hours drive from home. Erin knew that at some point, she wanted to go out in the world, maybe live abroad for a while, but this - New-York, all on her own, away for so long? She hadn’t planned that. Didn’t, really - it all went so fast, in the end.

It was a good thing too, because if she had stopped and thought about it for too long, she wasn’t sure she would have gone through with it.

(Then again, what else could she have done?)

Despite her dreams, and her need for independence, and her eagerness to see the world, Erin had never thought that she’d leave her family for that far, for that long. Orla had come to see her once, thank goodness, but Jesus -

On the last picture her Ma had sent her, Anna had grown so much, she almost looked like a wee woman. She’d forgotten the exact colour of that lipstick aunt Sarah wore all the time, she couldn’t remember each wrinkle on Granda’s beautiful face like she used to, and sometimes, she was afraid she was forgetting her Da’s smell and what her Ma’s voice sounded like in real life. She’d missed them so much, it hurt (a lot, often).

She just couldn’t wait any longer to get back to that crazy bunch, and those last, endless few hours? Torture so it was.

She was half considering starting to work on her next article to pass the time when across from her, Erin spotted a young couple bickering, their luggages next to their seats. She was a beautiful thing, red hair tied in a messy bun, and his brown curls fell above his forehead, all messed up.

She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could make out their accents. He looked like he was trying to make her smile, leaning over so he could kiss her, and she was doing everything she could not to laugh, weakly trying to escape his arms around hers, her pretense wavering with every second.

They were probably in their early twenties, just out of uni or something. They looked happy.

Her chest tightened, and suddenly, Erin felt the urge to cry.

Well, that was quick.

Shite. Shite shite shite.

It was okay, though - it was all fine. She knew herself by now - she was emotional as heck most days of the year (crazy, her Ma would say), but the day of her returning back home, with accumulated fatigue and an Atlantic crossing flight in her feet? Of course she'd get misty eyed at the first occasion. At anything, this just happened to be what, because they were very cute and - it was a coincidence, nothing more.

It was nothing.

The girl laughed, though, giving him a small slap over the head before she let him nuzzle his face in the crook of her neck. She brushed his forehead with her lips, a soft smile on them, and kept talking.

It was difficult, then, not to think about another time, another long wait, at the Bali airport this time. It was difficult, not to think about another English fella with wild, brown curls.

It was impossible, really, not to think about him.

Memories of a perfect trip came flooding back, of burnt skin and drunken smiles, of blue waters and green eyes. The tickles of the sun, the softness of his fingers over her exposed neck, her naked arms. Sweaty bodies pressed together during hot nights, slow breathes, so many new sights discovered, fingers intertwined.

Sometimes, the memory of his face hidden against her neck was so vivid, she could almost feel it. Just like she did now.

Her breath caught.

Sweet suffering Jesus.

Experience had taught her that she had to stop now - needed to, really, before her mind wandered to anything more. To everything else, every little thing that could, and would, make her heart ache even more than it already did.

(That’s another thing she’d found out: as it happened, the expression “heartbreak” wasn’t, in fact, an overly dramatic turn of words. Quite accurately descriptive it was, actually.

She often wondered when hers would stop feeling like it had been ripped into a million little pieces, but she was starting to lose faith that it ever would.)

Of course, she should have seen it coming, she knew that. She had, in fact. True to herself, she’d tried to ignore it, but she knew full well that with her coming back home, it would come back.

This painful, sneaky way every little thing seemed to remind her of before - of a life that felt so far away now.

Over the months, the many months since she’d been gone, she’d gotten it almost under control. Everyday life brought its distractions, particularly in a city like New-York: running between brunches and dinners, partying with her cool American friends, writing for a newspaper in the Big Apple, it was easy, forgetting what you wanted to, if only for so long. She was becoming a real life city girl, a full time one, and that was exactly what her busy brain - her treacherous heart - needed.

With time, every sight, every sound, every smell no longer reminded her of home - the place, the person. With time, she’d moved on.

Yes, sometimes - often - she’d wavered, but that was normal: having been close to someone meant that they lived with you forever, she couldn’t help that. At some point, it would just die down enough that she’d just be able to call it the past without her insides hurting.

(She thought it would, with Matt. Maybe not with the others before him, they were just passing through - but with him, she thought it would. She couldn’t really explain how it all made the permanent weight on her chest even heavier instead, somehow.)

But it hadn’t died down yet, and even though it was normal and okay and to be expected, six weeks ago, Erin had booked her tickets, and six weeks ago, she had lost the grip over the carefully built barriers she’d made sure to rise in the meantime for - well, self-preservation, really.

It started small. The song that had played this one special night, resonating through Starbucks as she waited for her drink. That sweatshirt her colleague bought one day that reminded her of another one. That scarf in the store that looked so much like Doctor Who’s.

But then...Then, it was every day, every damn day, just like the beginning - even worse, if she was being honest. Up until yesterday, when she boarded that damn plane.

Up until now, in this stupid airport where she didn’t want to cry.

Arms tightened around her own chest, Erin willed herself not to, even though it was becoming evident that there was no ignoring the memories and the aching now. Even though, just like she feared, it was becoming perfectly clear that there was no escaping anymore, no pretending that she wasn’t the worst person in this Goddamn country, that the worst hadn’t happened.

Even though she could feel the fear mixed with longing and excitement and dread and a million other emotions that had painfully, permanently taken residence in her stomach now that she was home.

(That had taken roots there ever since the day she left, so it did.)

Shite.

Sitting back up, Erin shook herself. No, no, no, no - she could do this.

She’d grown, she’d prepared herself. She’d even planned what to say if...She was ready. Responsable, mature, and ready. And she won’t have to face this alone.

In a few hours, she was going to see the people who raised her. In a couple of days, wee Orla was getting married. She’d come up with excuses after excuses not to come home, even for Christmas - babbling something about being overloaded with work even though it made her heart ache to know she’ll be alone for the holidays for the first time in her life. Even though she knew full well her Ma didn’t buy a single word, very aware of the real reason she was staying away. She didn’t say a single word, though, and Erin was grateful.

No more, though.

For months and months, Erin had found reasons to stay away for the exact reasons that were chipping away at her heart more and more by the second, but now her baby cousin was getting married, and she’d see her family, and they’ll hold her close, and she’ll find a way to bury all the stuff that was so, so much more difficult to ignore now that she was coming home.

Maybe - maybe it will be difficult, but they’ll be here to help her through it. She’ll be there for her family, and they’ll be here for her.

Fighting the urge to reach out for the folded photograph in her wallet (the one that brought so much comfort and so much else she’d rather avoid at the same time, the one she clinged to but pretended she didn’t), Erin just breathed, and moved to change seats.

Everything would be fine, in the end. It will be grand.

Except her family didn’t come.

No one did.

It was eight thirty in the morning, and, her cellphone penibly stuck between her ear and shoulder as she struggled to zip her jacket to protect herself from the freezing cold, Erin tried to swallow her disappointment.

“Aye I’m sorry love, it looks like you’re going to have to get a cab,” her Ma announced before yelling something at her Granda in the distance.

Erin couldn’t help but notice the fact that she didn’t seem that sorry, not at all in fact. “Your Da was going to come get you, but there’s a problem of some kind where the reception is, and he had to take Orla.”

Erin nodded, even though her Ma couldn’t see her. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just - ”

“We’ll give you the money back for the cab when you arrive. Alright, I gotta go love, we’re checking the hair accessories for the big day - see you in a bit.” And with that, she hung up.

Well.

Here went her big welcome home, eh.

Again, it was nothing, though, she reasoned. She was a grown up now, of course she understood that something had come up, and that this all delayed their big reunion from only an hour, tops. So really, there was no reason to get upset.

None.

She wished she wasn’t getting upset.

From what she told her, Clare would be putting together gift bags now, and there was absolutely no doubt that Michelle was still snoring. Pocketing her cell as best as she could, Erin bit the inside of her cheek and started looking for the only plan B she had left, ignoring the burning in her eyes. It really was nothing - she’ll be fine.

It didn’t matter that she took forever to get a cab, for some reason, or that her luggage fell over her foot when they tried to put it in the truck, or that her handbag crashed on the floor and spilled everywhere.

Erin did know she tended to be over dramatic - and yes, maybe borderline crazy, Ma wasn't completely wrong - but she was more mature now, so instead of getting riled up, instead of being crushed by the fact that her family didn’t seem to have missed her as much as she did them, and that the land she grew up on was sending her sign after sign that she wasn’t welcomed back, Erin breathed.

Instead of being violently overwhelmed by memories at every corner of the place she’d grown up in, the place where they met and it all began, she did - she tried to breathe, slowly, carefully, squeezing her scarf in her hand a little too tight.

(That was another thing about your close ones not coming to get you at the airport after you left your country to run away: there wasn’t much to distract you from the memories you were running away from.)

She wouldn’t cry. She was just tired, and being stupid, and she wasn’t coming home with puffy red eyes - no way.

They passed the mall they all used to hang out at, and her throat tightened so much, it felt like the air had left the inside of the car. She saw the movie theater he was always so eager to bring her to in the distance, and a familiar pang of missing shot through her chest. Her heart twisted that particular way when they drove by the hiding spot of their early days, but even though she wondered how she was still holding her tears, she did.

After what felt like an eternity, the car finally pulled up her street, and Erin hadn’t shed one silly tear. She’d done it. She could do it.

By the time she pushed their small barrier and started for the couple of stairs, all Erin wanted was to collapse into bed and black out. Orla and Da wouldn’t be home, Ana would probably still be asleep, and given the day and time, Grandda would have gone for his walk. She’d give a big hug to Ma and Aunt Sarah, pretext a headache, and go lie down.

As she struggled to get her bags through the door while keeping the damn thing open, Erin shouted, cursing herself at how strangled her voice sounded. “I’m home!”

Finally managing to get everything and herself inside, she collapsed on the wall behind her, only now taking in the wallpaper, the coat hangers, the shoes by the entry.

Damn - she was home.

The emotion was so striking, she didn’t quite have the time to stop the tears from welling up in her yes, taken by surprise.

She moved before it all became too much and shrugged off her coat, feeling her insides warm at the familiar surroundings, and yet her heart ache at not having the usual voices that went with it, the faces that she wanted so much to see. She shouted again, but there was still no response.

Ma and aunt Sarah must have had something to do, then. It was fine, she thought as she pushed the living door open. It was, she’d just grab a glass of water and -

“SURPRISE!”

And just like that, Saturday Night started playing from somewhere, overcoming the shouting and the party whistles that had broken the silence so suddenly, Erin had jumped out, her back hitting doorframe behind her. There was colours and and noise and arms waving in every direction, and Erin vaguely realized that she was covered in confetti that matched the balloons and the hats.

Somehow, she noticed that they all had one: Michelle, up on the sofa, Clare, jumping in place at the other side of the room, Orla and the giant teddy bear she was holding. Anna, her pink one stuck on top of her mass of blond hair. Aunt Sarah and Grandda, both holding hands and arboring the same green one. Her Ma, her Da, tears in their eyes, huge grins on their faces, red and yellow ones falling over.

Her brain had stopped functionning, so she couldn't be sure, but Erin thought that her legs were giving out.

Before they did, though, both her parents closed the distance and hugged her close, whispering things she couldn't quite make sense of just yet. Their voices in her ear, their smell surrounding her, Erin broke her promise to herself, and finally let the tears come flooding as she held them back as close as she could.

She was home.

#erin x james #james x erin #jerin #derry girls #fanfiction #mine

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

For the meet ugly prompts, 02 indruck?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one and interpreted the prompt kind of broadly. It's set in the same world as this Sternclay prompt

Fun fact: there is a fire lookout in the Monogahela, but the structure I describe is based on more elaborate ones elsewhere

02. I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless

Only in Duck’s life would “dream job” and “months alone in the woods” be equivalent.

The Bickle Nob Fire Lookout is a coveted position, and Duck is pretty fucking flattered they chose him as the ranger for July and August. He took the high clearance off-roader to get here, he’s got his bags full of everything he needs not to die of boredom (or anything else) and his schedule of supply drops. He’s as ready as can be and so fucking excited when he opens the door of the wide-windowed cabin.

Then he jumps back, startled to find a skinny, silver-haired man asleep on the floor.

“Uh, sir? This site is off-limits to visitors.”

The man wakes up in a series of catastrophic movements; he bangs into the wall, tangles in his blanket, and nearly stumbles out the window when he manages to stand.

“I, I’m sorry, I didn’t foresee anyone coming here.”

“Department spent all of June arguin’ about whether it was worth allocatin funds for this, so that’s why the place was empty. Fire up North two weeks ago scared ‘em enough to send me up here.” Duck explains with a casual smile; after all, even if he’s way off the trail, there’s no reason to assume this guy is out to cause trouble, “if you got lost hikin, I’m happy to radio down and ask for someone to come get you and take you back to your camp.”

“Nono, I, ah, I’m not lost. One needs to have a destination to be lost.”

“O-kay. Uh, well, whatever you’re lookin for, I’m afraid this ain’t it. This buildin is for the fire lookout only.”

“I promise I’ll be very unobtrusive. I even have my own supplies, you won’t have to worry about me in the slightest.” The man smiles,opening one of his two bags to show it crammed with shiny packets of food.

Duck shakes his head, “Can’t do it, sorry. I’m serious though, if you need a ride into town I can get a hold of someone who can help. Maybe, uh, you could find whatever you’re lookin for there?”

“No” the man sags, but begins zipping up his bags, “I do not think I will find it there. I am sorry for intruding.” He steps out the door, turning towards the deeper woods on the western slope.

“You need a map?” Duck calls. The man doesn’t so much as look over his shoulder.

Duck unpacks as much as he can, checks the weather station and notes the readings suggest those thunderheads on the far horizon are coming his way. By dinnertime, they’re right on top of him, rain pattering on the roof and thunder rattling the windows. He’s scanning the trees when he spots a metallic flash, not of lightning but of silver hair. His mystery visitor is huddled under a tree, wind forcing the hood of his raincoat back over and over again.

The rules and regulations in the forest are there to keep the environment and visitors safe. If something doesn’t violate those basic requirements, Duck sees no reason not to bend them.

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

“I really cannot stress how grateful I am that you allowed me back in.” The visitor, who introduced himself as Indrid, finishes packing their scant trash into the can, “I promise that as soon as the storm passes I’ll leave you be.”

“Yeah, about that.” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “you really don’t got anywhere to call home, do you?”

Indrid opens his mouth. Duck stares, pointedly, at the holes in his white shirt and the worn shoes sticking out from frayed jeans.

“....No, I do not.”

“In that case, you stay here the next two months, on two conditions: one, you don’t get in the way of me doin what I’m here to do. Two, you don’t tell anyone I let you do this. Deal?”

“Yes, yes absolutely” Indrid shakes his hand, bouncing up and down a bit, “thank you so much. You will barely know I’m here.”

This turns out to be completely true and utterly false.

Indrid does keep to himself most of the day; he draws, reads, lays in the sun outside the cabin and generally stays out of Ducks way while he’s working. But he’s also the person who sits and jokes with him during meals, who eagerly follows Duck’s hand when he points out interesting birds or plants, and watches intently when Duck reads his instruments.

He never thought he could live in a fifteen by fifteen foot space with another person and not have a full head of grey by the end of it. Indrid Cold is the exception that proves the rule, Duck certain he’ll never be able to be cooped up with anyone but Indrid ever again.

It helps that he still gets his quiet time; Indrid will got out for walks, even watches for smoke so Duck can do the same. They use the wild foraging guide and Duck’s knowledge of local plants to bring back extra food. Indrid was particularly pleased when he located some wild blackberries. When Duck reminded him to watch out for bears near the berry patch, Indrid simply smirked and said there was only one bear on the mountain who could get him.

Duck’s daydreaming of what Indrid might do if caught on his way back from a dusk walk. And, more urgently, how he can convince Indrid that he wants to sleep outside tomorrow night. So it takes two tries of the front door before he notices it’s locked.

“Indrid?” he knocks, “you in there?” Stepping back, he finds the windows hastily covered by his bedsheets and blankets. He knocks harder, “that’s real fuckin dangerous, if there’s a fire we won’t see it. ‘Drid! Open the damn door!”

He continues banging, unanswered, as the moon--two days from full--rises above.

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

Indrid covers his ears to block out Duck’s increasingly worried shouts from outside. This is the right choice, the best of a bad bunch; it will keep Duck and anyone else nearby safe. The ranger will probably turn him away come morning, rightly furious at his irrationality. Indrid resolves not to argue with him; he’ll slink back into the trees, just like he did the last time someone threw him out for his transgressions.

It starts in his chest, his heartbeat climbing to marathon speeds in spite of him holding still. Then his skin prickles, silver hair sprouting from every follicle, followed by his back bowing in pain and his jaw elongating with a crack. From there the adrenaline kicks in, flooding his body so the transformation doesn’t render him unconscious (and therefore helpless) with pain. When next he raises his head, a werewolf with glowing, red eyes looks back at him from the darkened windows.

Beyond the covered windows, someone howls. Then he scents it, another of his kind coming dangerously close. He has to go out, he can’t leave Duck out there with something that will rip him apart, surely he likes the human enough for his mind to see him as a friend, not prey-

CRACK

The door splinters off its hinges; he growls, ready to defend his home. A deeper growl answers him as a larger wolf, black-furred and yellow eyed, stalks across the threshold.

“What. the. Fuck?” the newcomer snaps, “I told you, you can only stay if you don’t fuck up my work and locking me out comes real fuckin close to that!”

He cocks his head “Duck?”

“No, I’m the fuckin president of the united states.”

“I, I’m so sorry.” Indrid drops to all fours, then flattens to his belly just to be safe, “I didn’t know, I just wanted to be sure I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Duck points to the broken door, “you coulda just done that from the opposite side and I woulda been dinner.”

“No I, I know that if I confine myself I tend to be...calmer. I don’t get overstimulated and then agitated.”

“You coulda just told me. Lockin me out is real rude.”

Indrid whines, crawls close enough to nose at him.

“You don’t gotta do that; I ain't assertin dominance or some shit, I’m just a little annoyed.”

He whines again, “please don’t make me leave.”

“I won’t.” Duck’s voice turns softer.

“And you will not get angry at me for not being appropriately grateful for your leniency?”

Duck frowns, “Aw jesus, did you come from one of those old-school packs?

“Yes” Indrid grumbles, hating himself for how easily he fell into manners he loathes, how deep the teachings of his home run.

Duck eases him up so they’re both sitting, then noses the side of his face, “We don't do that around here. Least, I don't. I don’t spend a ton of time with most of the other Weres when they’re wolfed-out, but they ain’t big on tradition and hierarchy the rest of the time.”

“Ah. That’s, that’s good.”

The other Were stretches, stands and pads about the room, removing the make-shift curtains, “You gotta teach me how you’re so fuckin accurate on when the moon is full enough to make us shift whether or not we want to; I thought I had a day left. I, uh, I was gonna ask you to sleep in here while I ‘slept under the stars’ so you wouldn’t know.”

“You’re not afraid of hurting someone?”

“Nah, especially not this far out. Sometimes I hunt deer, but whatever strain of this I got doesn’t go feral unless some shit goes majorly wrong.” He drops the blankets on the floor, “don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like huntin tonight. Or stargazin. I’m beat from work.”

“Agreed. Transforming against my will always makes me tired.”

Duck lays down on the floor,yawns, “In that case: sleep tight ‘Drid.”

Indrid tries to do just that. But every time he catches Duck’s scent he wishes he could move closer to him, then remembers that would be rude, and continues in that back and forth until he’s wide awake. It doesn’t help that his Were form runs cold; he’s shivering in spite of it still being close to eighty degrees.

His ears flick at Duck’s footfalls. Then a warm, bulky frame curls around his freezing, lanky one.

“This okay?” Duck carefully drapes an arm over him.

Indrid sighs, feeling safer than he has in a year, “better than.”

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

“I’m a seer.”

Duck looks up from his breakfast, mouth full but question clear.

“Last night, you asked me how I knew we’d transform. Seeing the future makes it rather easy.”

“Damn, that does sound handy.”

“In many ways it is. Though it carries some, ah, some downsides.” Indrid steers his thoughts towards safer paths, “If you’d like, I could use it to help you with the fire lookout.”

The ranger grins, the expression twice as warm as his fur the night before, “That’d be fuckin great.”

Indrid smiles back, keeps his eyes on the windows so as not to look longingly back at the rumpled sheets. They awoke this morning in a heap, Duck’s modesty preserved only by a blanket and Indrid’s hair stuck in all directions. He’d been ready to apologize for not moving away before dawn, but Duck simply reached out, stroked his hair down, and asked if he wanted coffee.

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

“You’re right, you can see more animals this way.” They’re perched, fully transformed, on the rocks outside the cabin. Indrid knows how to use his night vision for hunting, but Duck is teaching him how to use it for more peaceful matters.

“Yeah, long as you stay put most animals get up the nerve to nose around some.”

They’d transformed side by side, Duck banging his head in the process. Indrid licked near the bruise and made soothing, sympathetic sounds when Duck whined and cursed his luck. Back home, being demonstrative was frowned upon; here, Duck seems to always be casually bumping their bodies together.

When they go to bed several hours after moonrise, they curl up side by side without hesitation. It’s so very easy to tune out his visions when Duck is near and Indrid falls asleep while the ranger is still whispering about the birds they can hear.

He wakes up an hour later in a panic, disasters of visions past tearing through his mind.

“‘Drid? What’s wrong?” Duck noses the base of his neck.

“Nothing. Just a bad dream.” He closes his eyes, tries to focus on Duck’s scent, his breath, the wind in the trees, but still the ghosts of his memories lurk in the corners of his vision.

“Can I try somethin?” Duck murmurs. Indrid thought he’d gone back to sleep.

“Of course.”

Teeth tenderly and ever so carefully clamp the fur and skin of his neck. He goes limp in one breath. He was high status enough that no one ever did this to him, but goodness does he wish they had

The ranger let’s go, “Do I need to do it again?”

“Please.”

Duck obliges and Indrid whimpers, melting shamelessly in his arms.

“Thank you. I think I can sleep now.”

“Any time, ‘Drid. Uh, before you, uh, go to sleep there’s somethin I wanna ask you. Since you need a place to stay, do you, uh, wanna stay with me? In Kepler.”

“You’d really like that? You, if this is out of pity-”

“It ain’t.”

There were no futures where it was. Indrid wanted to hear the words all the same.

“Besides” Duck nuzzles him, “we already know we make damn good roommates.”

Indrid can’t help it; he howls, brief and joyful, safe in the knowledge that Duck will be ready with a laugh and a kiss in reply.

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #meet ugly #taz amnesty #werewolf au

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marrys-dream-world · 3 years

Text

you drank so much sunlight you’re drowning in it

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Summary: When Marinette agreed to pretend to be Adrien's girlfriend so he could throw his father off the scent of his actual girlfriend, Ladybug, she didn't think anything could go wrong during the span of one dinner. Turns out she was wrong, of course. Fortunately, there's always a friendly cat looking out for her.

Notes: Guess who was inspired? This is a companion piece to “lovers alone wear sunlight”, but can be read as a stand alone.

One lesson that Marinette had to learn quickly after becoming Ladybug was that there was always a chance of even the best made plans going sideways.

So when she slept through her alarm, had to rush into getting dressed for class, dumped salt instead of sugar in her coffee and tried to eat her croissant so fast before class started that she choked and had to be escorted to the infirmary by a worried Alya, she tried to not see it as an omen of what was to come. She held her head high and soldiered on through the day with her mismatched shoes and mouth tasting like a mix of salt and bitterness, not letting any of it bother her.

She did have one weakness, however.

“Marinette, can I talk to you?” There it was. Suddenly, her knees felt weak.

Be still, my beating heart. She scolded.

Adrien had rushed to ask her as soon as Ms. Bustier finished the class for lunch, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room. At that, he flushed and figdted on the spot.

“Alone?” He added quietly, doing a decent job at ignoring the way their classmates leaned in.

“I- hum, yeah, I mean, yeah.” She said eloquently, feeling her neck burn. “Won’t you home at lunch? No, lunch at home? E-eat lunch at home? Today?”

“Not today, no.” He said. He casually put his hand on her shoulder and leaned in to whisper in her ear. She wondered if he could hear her heartbeat. “I need your help.”

Wasn’t that a bucket of cold water?

She straightened up. “Of course! C’mon.”

Marinette grasped his wrist in one hand and her backpack in another, pulling a stunned Adrien from the classroom. She caught a glimpse of her classmate’s knowing smile, Alya’s confused face, Chloe trying to pretend she wasn’t watching and Lila looking contemplative. She took him to a classroom that was usually empty around lunch time, something she knew from always needing a handy place to transform to fight akumas like Lunch Lady.

“No one comes here at this hour.” She reassured him and he relaxed against a table. “No one will overhear or anything.”

My father said that he heard it from a “reliable source from school”. He had told Ladybug, the day before. I think there’s someone spying on me for him.

“Marinette, I… Wow, this is awkward.” Adrien said, putting his hands in his pockets and kicking the air in front of him.

“Take your time.” She said. It sure wasn’t an easy tale to tell.

“Okay, this will sound really weird, but let me finish: father told me yesterday that he knows I’m dating someone and I told him you’re my secret girlfriend.” He started, tensing up again. When she just raised an eyebrow and nodded, he went on. “I panicked. I do have a girlfriend, but I can’t introduce her to my father due to some personal reason, but he wouldn’t accept that. And I can’t deny it because, apparently, everyone says I’m ‘obviously lovesick’ and my father wouldn’t believe otherwise.”

Well, there’s her confirmation that he read through the “Lovesick Agreste: is Paris’ biggest teenager bachelor off the market?” articles. Not that anyone in class hadn’t noticed his sighs and blushes and random daydreaming. She liked to think she was more subtle than that.

“So I told him it was you because you’re one of my best friends and he likes you a lot!” Hearing it for a second time doesn’t make the idea that Gabriel Agreste likes her any less surreal. “But now he wants to meet you for dinner today and I know it’s a lot to ask, but will you pretend to be my girlfriend? Just for today?”

Marinette stared at him for a moment. She had known the full story almost as soon as it happened, Adrien spilling it and his plan for dinner to Ladybug the night before. It had given her time to prepare and she was grateful, having no idea how she would react if he had caught her blindsided. But it was still weird watching it play out, like the merging of an outsider perspective and her own.

“Can I ask a question?” She managed to croak out. There was really only one answer she wanted.

Adrien twitched. “Y-yes, of course.”

“This girl… does she make you happy?”

Adrien looked straight into her eyes and answered solemnly. “Deliriously happy.”

Marinette couldn’t hold back the grin that took over her face.

“Let’s do this, then!” Her heart was swelling so much she thought it would burst out of her chest. “Adrien Agreste, I’ll be your fake girlfriend!”

The beaming smile she received made it worth it already. She just had to be discreet about it.

“Soooo… What did Adrien want to talk about?” Alíx asked, a teasing grin on her face that was matched by Mylene, Rose and Juleka. They had crowdened her desk as soon as class let out.

“He just wanted help with… homework.” Marinette word-vomited. Alya paused on putting her things away to facepalm.

“Marinette, it’s okay, you don’t need to pretend.” Mylene said calmly, which only confused her.

“Pretend to what?”

Rose laughed. “We know you’re dating Adrien.”

Marinette.exe has stopped working.

“You know what?”

“We understand you’re trying to keep it a secret, but you’re not exactly subtle. You both keep daydreaming in class and smiling and blushing.” Juleka pointed out. Fine, maybe she wasn’t as subtle as she thought. “It’s okay, we won’t tell anyone.”

There’s nothing to tell! She wanted to scream.

We aren’t dating at all. Are you guys crazy? She wanted to deny.

Then, something in her mind clicked.

“You guys figured me out.” Marinette said, injecting a proportionate amount of defeat into her voice. Distantly, she heard Alya choke. “Adrien and I are dating…”

The four girls cheered.

“... but we were keeping it a secret because his father is, you know. “ They all nodded, including Alya. Unfortunately, they did know Gabriel Agreste. “But he figured it out and now I’m going to have dinner at his house today.”

Rose and Alya let out high pitched screams for two very different reasons.

“Oh, Marinette, you’re formally meeting your in-laws, this is serious!” Rose chirped. Marinette decided to focus on that instead of Alya’s murderous eyes. “We have to give you a makeover!”

“Great idea!” Marinette shouted, jumping up from her seat and avoiding Alya’s hand that was trying to claw into her arm. “Everyone is invited to my house today!”

Sorry, Alya. She thought as the other girls started to talk over each other as Alya silently fumed. But I can’t have this conversation right now.

She did regret that decision, eventually.

Between Alíx’s surprisingly accurate tips on how rich people ate dinner and which fork to absolutely not use for salad, Juleka’s makeup tips and Rose and Mylene’s debates on which outfit suited her the best, Marinette is left even more nervous. It doesn’t help that Alya spends the whole time sitting in the corner, just staring at Marinette. Even when Marinette brings out her favorite tart as a peace offering, Alya eats it, paper mold and all, while staring deeply into her eyes.

It was incredibly unsettling.

“Ta-da!” Rose chirps, presenting a dolled up Marinette to her four-people audience. They all clapped.

Marinette looked into the mirror. She could admit she looked amazing, make up well-done and outfit impeccable. But at what cost?

“Our baby is all grown up.” Alíx said, wiping a fake tear from her cheek. “She even knows how to use forks now.”

She swallowed back a sob. After Marinette misused the fish fork for the eleventh time, Alíx had taken to ripping an Adrien picture everytime she got it wrong. She learned pretty quickly after that.

“Great work, girls.” Alya said, her first words in three hours. She got up from the chair and clasped her hands. “Now, Mama Alya needs to have a word alone with her daughter.”

“Of course!” Mylene said, finishing putting the rest of Marinette’s clothes away.

As the girls left, Marinette looked longingly at her window and only stopped thinking of escaping, halfway through a plan, when she saw the look on Alya’s face.

“So, peach really brings out my complexion, huh? Or maybe Juleka is just that good with makeup.” She tried.

Tikki, coming out of her hiding place, sighed.

“Marinette, that’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

“What? I think I had worse makeup looks before.”

“Marinette.”

She winced. “In my defense, I don’t think this makes it into the top 10 dumbest things I’ve ever done.”

“Why did you tell the girls you’re dating Adrien?”

“Because I am dating Adrien.”

“Ladybug is dating Adrien.” And by Alya’s tone, her opinion hasn’t improved on that either.

“And Marinette is helping Adrien throw off his father from that by pretending to be his girlfriend.” Marinette said, then, at Alya dumbfounded look, made jazz hands and added a weak: “Ta-da.”

“Tikki.” Alya said, voice restraining a mix of frustration and desperation. “Why do you let Marinette do dumb stuff like this?”

Tikki swallowed a whole cookie. “I don’t control the speed in which Marinette does dumb stuff.”

“Hey!”

“Why not?”

“I’m still here, you know?”

Tikki and Alya’s combo stare shut her up.

“How do you get yourself in these situations?” Alya asked, helplessly.

“Welcome to my life.” Tikki said, offering Alya a cookie. They toasted before biting into their perspective treats.

“It’s not that bad.” Marinette said. Neither gave her a response.

The Agrestes sent her a car to take her to dinner.

Alya and her parents sent her off. Her, on her tenth fruit tart and judging-and-supportive-at-the-same-time stare, and them, her mother comforting her crying father that wailed that “his little girl had grown up”. The three of them demanded at least fifty pictures before they let her go. She loved her family, but the quiet ride there was a respite to gather her thoughts and calm down enough to not make a fool of herself.

So, of course, when she got to the house and saw Adrien in a carefully styled outfit and his father waiting for her on the top of the stairs, she tripped on her heels and was only saved by falling into the hard concrete by the Gorilla’s grip on the back of her dress.

“Marinette.” Adrien said adoringly as she reached the top of the stairs, cheeks flushed and eyes shining.

He could be an actor if he wanted. She thought, dazed, as she took the hand he offered her.

“Good evening, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.” Gabriel Agreste said, nodding at her.

“Good evening, Mr. Agreste.” She responded, managing to keep her voice from trembling.

The dining room was excessive, much bigger than she thought it would be needed for a three-people dinner. Adrien, like a gentleman, held her hand till she was seated and sent her a fond look. She barely managed an awkward smile back. It was weird, trying to pretend to be in love with Adrien when she was in love with. Hell, they were dating, he just didn’t know that. Would he recognize her lovesick look as the same he got from Ladybug? That the way their hands fit together was familiar? These questions wouldn’t leave her mind.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng, that’s an interesting dress you’re wearing.” Mr. Agreste said as the first course was served. Marinette’s hands immediately went for the right fork as the sound of paper ripping ringed in her ears. “Care to say where you got it?”

“I, uh, designed it myself.” She said, gesturing vaguely. “It’s a new piece.”

“Marinette is a very talented designer.” Adrien said and she puffed up a little, chest full of pride.

“I was not speaking to you, Adrien.” His father said curtly and the light in her boyfriend’s eyes dimmed.

Ah, another reason she wasn’t looking forward to dinner. All of Adrien's friends know him as a very strict and overprotective man, but Ladybug, as Adrien’s girlfriend and constant secret visitor to the Agreste Mansion, knew better. She saw how he constantly put Adrien down, berating him for the slightest mistake and made him cancel plans last minute because of missed notes on a piano performance. Adrien was genuinely scared of his father and if Marinette wasn’t doing this whole thing to help him, she would dump the bowl of hot soup she was now sipping on his father’s lap.

“But you’re right. The dress is craftily-made.” Mr. Agreste said. “You’re looking for a future in the fashion scene, right, Ms. Dupain-Cheng?”

“Yes, that’s actually why Adrien and I are dating in secret.” She said, noticing the glint in his eyes. “We don't want anyone to think I’m using him to climb up the scene or anything like that.”

“An admirable effort.” He said and Adrien beamed at her. He really had the prettiest smile in the world, it never failed to raise butterflies in her stomach. “Tell me more about your dress. How did you choose the material?”

The main course continued like that, Marinette and Mr. Agreste talking about fashion and Adrien’s interjections now being welcomed. She got enough pointers and constructive criticisms that her hands itched for a notebook to write it all down. Adrien looked incredibly happy, throwing her sunshine-filled gazes and grasping at her hands every time he wanted to punctuate a sentence.

I love him. She thought.

Of course, that’s why it went south before dessert.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I must admit that you’re an admirable young woman.” Mr. Agreste said and she allowed her feeling of pride to swell, before he popped it like a balloon at his next words: “And completely unfit for the Agreste Brand image.”

“What?” Adrien and Marinette shouted at the same time, shocked.

“No matter your intentions, the media will see this as a young designer trying to get an advantage in the industry by dating the heir to a fashion empire.” He said simply.

“But it’s not true!” Marinette blurted out.

“It doesn’t matter.” He dismissed, before continuing, voice cruel: “There’s also the problem of your background.”

It felt like someone scooped out Marinette’s stomach and filled the empty space with ice.

“M-my background?”

“Father…” Adrien started, surprisingly firm.

“You’re a baker’s daughter, Ms. Dupain-Cheng, hardly worthy of the Agreste name.” Mr Agreste said, like it wasn’t breaking her heart. “You two have to break up before this… fling tarnishes the family image.”

“Father!” Adrien said, sounding more serious than she ever heard him. “How can you even say something like that?”

Marinette felt like she was underwater, everything felt muffled and Adrien and his father sounded like they were both far away. This couldn’t be happening to her.

“I… have to go.” She said, getting up from her chair. “I’m sorry, Adrien.”

She left, ignoring Adrien’s calls of her name and running into the streets. Her feet hurt from her shoes, so she stepped into an alley and opened her bag, deaf to Tikki’s reassurances and transformed quickly. She swung through the city before detransforming near her house and coming in the front door, her parents excited inquiries quickly giving away to fretting that left her wrapped in blankets in her room with a tub of ice cream on her lap and a worried Tikki on her hair.

Thank god Alya already left. Marinette thought. If one more person looked at her with a pitying gaze, she would scream.

“I’m fine, Tikki. I’m not sad.” It was true, her whole body just felt numb. There wasn’t room for anything else. “I just want to be alone for a moment.”

With that, she climbed up to her balcony, leaving Tikki alone with a phone that was buzzing with dozens of unseen messages.

The cold air nipped at her skin, but she refused to go down and get more blankets. She stared unseeing at the blinking lights of the city. She wanted to stay there and watch them. She wanted to fly through them. Neither felt like enough, so she closed her eyes.

“What’s upsetting such a pretty lady on a pretty night like this?”

She snapped her head to the side at the sound of that voice. A voice she hadn’t heard directed at her since…

“You could at least pretend that you actually think I’m your partner and trust me , how about that?!”

“Chat Noir…” She gasped, hungrily driking in his messy blond hair and grinning mouth that didn’t hide worried his cat-like eyes were.

Eyes that wouldn’t look into hers since the fight where he found out she told someone her identity and the issues that spiraled from that.

“Hey, Marinette.” He said, sitting down beside her. “So?”

She tilted her head. “So what?”

“What got you so upset?”

“I-I’m not upset.” She said, a tremble escaping into her voice.

He raised a hand to her cheek, touching gently. She watched, entranced.

“You’re crying.” Chat Noir said, soflty.

“Oh.” Marinette said and it was like a dam broke.

Chat Noir held her as she sobbed, huge tears rolling down her red face as her body trembled. It should feel weird, they only met as Marinette and Chat Noir a handful of times, but her heart knew her partner and could never feel anything but safe in his arms.

“It’s okay, princess.” He said, the nickname falling easily from his tongue. “Cry all you need.”

And she did, until it seemed like she had, finally, run out.

“S-sorry.” She mumbled against his shoulder.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He reassured, stroking her hair. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

She sat up, detangling herself from his arms. His eyes flashed with something that she couldn’t quite place.

“I went out to help a friend and it ended up pretty badly.” Marinette said, wiping her cheeks with her blanket.

“Did you two have a fight?” He asked, oddly subdued.

“Not exactly, it’s not really his fault but… I don’t want to talk to my friend right now.”

Because how could she even begin to explain that it wasn’t Adrien’s fault, but she couldn’t bear to see his face right now? That it was a fake date, but the fact that his father wouldn’t approve of her even if it was real broke her heart? That it wasn’t because of anything she could change and didn’t want to change, anyway, but her essence itself? To look at the guilty face of her friend, her secret boyfriend, wouldn’t help her at all.

“I understand.”

“Because of you and Ladybug?” The words left her mouth before she could think them through.

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean me and Ladybug?”

“I-I, erm.” She swallowed heavily. “I mean, Alya said you two are probably fighting, since you are going on all-solo patrols and have been kinda stiff during akuma fights.”

He deflated. “I didn’t see anything on the Ladyblog.”

“She wouldn’t put ammunition for Shadow Moth on the Ladyblog.” She defended. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I… don’t know?” He looked genuinely confused. “I haven’t really talked about this with anyone but my kwami.”

She was surprised he said that, before realizing he thought she knew what a kwami was because of Mullo and her time as Multimouse.

“You can vent if you want. You already saw me being all, you know.” She gestured vaguely at herself. “Just say as much as you want.”

“Ladybug and I did have a fight. We don’t let it interfere with our job or anything, but our friendship is kinda on the rocks right.” He said quietly, cat ears dropping. “I can’t tell you why, but sometimes it just feels like I’m not important to her.”

“Of course you are!” She exclaimed, protests falling automatically from her mouth like on hero discussion day at school.

(She was officially banned from debates after she made a student that said Chat Noir sucked cry.)

“Am I really?” He chuckled, self-deprecating. “Everyone thinks Ladybug is the best. I don’t blame them, they’re right. But when they call me a sidekick, they might just be right. She doesn’t see me as her partner, she doesn’t trust me.”

His voice cracked at the end and she wrapped him in her arms.

“You won’t let me help you, Ladybug.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She said, holding back tears as it was his turn to cry.

He laughed wetly. “Why? It’s not your fault.”

But it is. “I’m still sorry.”

“It's just… I love her.” He said and it ached. “I love her so much but I don’t think she cares about me half as much as I care about her.”

“Of course she does.” Marinette said, but her words sounded weak even to her own ears.

“She doesn’t.” He answered, simply.

“I wish… I wish I could make her love you.” She said, surprising him and herself so much it startled a laugh out of him.

“There’s no need for that, I’m not mad she doesn’t love me like this or anything.” Chat Noir said, honestly. “I just want to know she cares.”

“She cares.” Marinette defended fiercely. “I care.”

His eyes softened. “That means a lot to me, princess.”

Then he took her hand, mindful of his claws, and squeezed. Together, they watched the lights until she fell asleep.

Her heart felt full.

#Marinette Dupain-Cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #ladybug #ml fic #my stuff #adrinette #marichat #fake dating #you drank so much sunlight you're drowning in it #lovers alone wear sunlight #companion piece

19 notes · View notes

hooniee · 3 years

Text

— ꒰‧⁺paris run away *ೃ༄

↷ heeseung x reader ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷genre: fluff | comdey ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ warnings: not proofread | none! ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ synopsis: (y/n) just graduates from high school and feel incomplete but doesn’t know what’s missing. a trip to paris might be able to fix that ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ author note: this is @enhypenwriters event of the month! strangers to lovers <3 i think this was my favorite to write out of the three pieces but i feel like it’s lacking some flare :( i think it still turned out okay though. i hope you enjoy <3 ⋯ ♡ᵎ

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*

you should have listened to sunoo when he said that it wasn't a good plan to travel to a foreign country on impulse.

you wouldn’t say you’ve ever been the most courageous person in your life. determined to break that trend, you planned this super out of the blue trip without much thought.

yeah. maybe this was a bit TOO courageous.

you didn't comprehend what compelled you yet here you were, arriving at paris charles de gaulle airport.

you stared at the large windows of the airport, viewing the plane that you had just left.

the gate for the concluding passengers had been locked by the flight stewardesses.

one of the stewardesses obtained eye contact with you, before shooting a smile and lightly bowing her head.

you absentmindedly returned the gesture, mind elsewhere.

bustling throughout the airport were people hurrying to their connecting flight or slumping into their lover's arms

people carried two or more suitcases with various bags strapped on their bodies, nothing on you besides a petite sling purse and one small carry on suitcase.

as weaved your way through the mass of stressed travelers, you briefly thought to yourself

how the hell did you get here?

2 days earlier

clusters of kids outfitted in blue gowns and caps could be recognized a mile away.

the graduation from high school to university.

your friend minji encloses her arm around your shoulder, your arm resting on her waist.

minji’s mom was stood in front of the both of you, gesturing wildly as she tried to take the ‘perfect graduation photo’ as she had put it

"okay pose! get a little closer, perfect. 1, 2, 3" your friend's mom counts.

the camera shudders which creates a beaming light to flash, eyes faintly twitching.

shrieks could be heard throughout the campus as girls queued up to take their final photographs with the popular guys.

minji's mom draws back the camera and we check the picture.

"it's cute," minji exclaims, peering at it a bit more closer. you nod your head in approval.

you would miss minji, one of the friends you could constantly count on in math class when you neglected to do your homework from binging korean dramas.

"i'll send you the picture later (y/n)! don't forget about me alright? you have my socials and you can always talk to me," minji grasps your hands

you smile, feeling sad at the departure of your best friend, "of course minji, don't forget me either"

"i could never," she brings you into a secure hug.

"sweet pea perfume," you say and she chuckles. sweat pea was minji's preferred perfume and you would miss that aroma.

"i have to go now, but i'll see you around okay?" minji says.

you could notice tears well up in her eyes and she fans her eyes to prevent the tears.

"don't cry ji, i'll start crying," you joked. "i live near here and you can always visit me! my door will always be open."

she smiled, "the same goes for you." her mother shouts her name before she has to go.

"alright, see you around," you wave to her as she leaves.

on the opposite side of the garden, your mom signals to you with your bouquet of red roses in hand.

"are you ready honey?" she asks you and you smile, nodding your head.

the car ride was in pleasant quietness, light radio music fluttering in. you had taken off your cap and laid it in the car seat next to you accompanying with your bouquet.

you had glimpsed outside to see your campus still arranged with your classmates, beaming and posing for additional pictures.

you bitterly smiled.

for the first time, graduation didn't appear like one of those liberating scenes of a movie,

1 day ago

you sprawled on his bed, staring straight up. a fan in your hand, fanning the perspiration that threatened to come.

your eyes match the fan's speed directly above your neighbor and best friend, sunoo's, bed.

his air conditioner was broken. with the avail of those elementary paper fans and the only fan stationed in the house, you were able to find comfort

you questioned if he ever got frightened of it dropping on him when he slept.

sunoo occupies the bathroom that's joined to his room, applying some light powder.

your mind strays, more thoughts simmering in the back of your brain. you sigh for the 10th time and sunoo being exasperated, allows out a loud groan.

it draws you out of your daze and you snap your head towards him."

"what is with you? what is on your mind sunshine?" he shuts his cushion, flinging himself on the bed.

"are you ever scared of the fan falling on you?" you felt the bed dip

"no, it's been like that for years, and don't change the subject. what's wrong?" sunoo retorted

"what makes you say that? i'm fine, " you answer

"uh-huh," sunoo rolls his eyes

it's the blatant eye-roll rather than the hushed one, he implied business

"you've been sighing for the past ten minutes, spill," sunoo says

of course, sunoo could recognize your distress. what sort of best friend would he be if he couldn't distinguish your emotions?

you huff, " okay then"

"i don't know why but i just feel stuck? i just graduated high school and nothing feels different, i mean it doesn't have to, but what do i do now? maybe i just watched too many movies"

sunoo tsked, " (y/n). sweetie, i graduated last year and i'm still stuck here. i do nothing besides go out or stay in my room. no in-between."

"but you have something sunoo. you have a bunch of your friends, you're an instagram star and i don't know, it's just different, "

it was accurate, sunoo was extremely popular. he had a bunch of friends and acquaintances from being the vice president.

sunoo inflated up on social media for his content from makeup to dance practices, a versatile instagram star.

you conceal your face with your hands before emitting a loud groan.

sunoo remarks, "i don't know how i can help you (y/n)? maybe you should try to rest a bit"

"easy for you to say, you, who isn’t dealing with a mid-life crisis, " you whine.

"this isn't a mid-life crisis, this is a post-graduation crisis which is totally normal. how about going out of town? obviously not to paris or whatever but maybe, what was her name again? minjoo's town!" sunoo suggested.

"obviously not to paris"

"not to paris"

"to paris"

"paris"

what about paris? paris was considerably away from your town and had a ring on the tip of your tongue.

you had sprung up, grasping sunoo by the shoulder and shaking him, "you're a genius sunoo! paris is a genius idea."

sunoo's eyes widen and he shakes his head while attempting to pry your hands off of him.

"no, you have to think rationally-"

you released sunoo from your hold which let him stabilize his spinning head.

"and i am! i need something new. being in this town for my whole life makes me realize, maybe i just need a spontaneous trip. "

your words scarcely blur together, adrenaline rushing through your blood as you understood this could jolt you out of your post-graduation slump.

"but-"

"no buts! pass me my laptop,"

present-day

you are currently disliking your choice, anxiety rushing through your veins, but it's too overdue to have other opinions.

you had landed in france and this was a life-altering moment; a chance of a lifetime.

peering nearby, you squint at the tiny english translations of the signs. you pull out your phone.

you open up the camera to see if zooming in would improve it for your eyes. as if on cue, your stomach rumbles vaguely making you startled.

you panicked as the pocket that was previously supplied with snacks became loaded with empty wrappers.

maybe if you would be lost in this wonderful city, you might as well try some of their famous pastries.

your muscles had retracted, the result of finally getting some movement after being restrained in a metal machine that was adjacent to the fiery sun.

you stumbled across this petite bakery and enter, sparingly bowing your head.

the owner was an older lady with her greying hair that designed it to resemble ashy highlights, pulled into a loose bun.

"que puis-je vous offrir?" she smiles.

"i'm sorry, i don't speak french?" you admit, embarrassed

as much as you assumed duolingo and rosetta stone could benefit you on a flight to paris, the only thing you could accomplish to say without messing up is "bonjour"

"that's fine mademoiselle! what can i offer you?" the lady shifts to englsih

you let out a sigh of relief, appreciative for blundering into this bakery.

"may i have your most popular pastry to go and a water bottle?" you smile, fishing out some euros.

you had looked down to the currency that you had exchanged before embarking on the plane.

"of course mademoiselle!" she says, reaching behind the counter and with her gloved hand, seizing a chocolate croissant.

"that will be 4.12 euros!" she rings you up in the cashier.

"is this the right amount? i'm not very good at counting euros," you revealed your hand where the money was.

she nodded her head and took the money, printing your receipt out. before giving you your receipt, she interviews you with a question that you weren't confident in answering"

"if you don't mind me asking, why are you here in france? not to sound rude! but i'm just curious"

you softly smile, sensing the kindness illuminating from her tone of voice. she wasn't rude at all and she was asking a simple question, but your brain struggled to obtain an answer.

"well, i would say i'm here to explore? i just finished high school and life felt incomplete. my best friend jokingly said "go to paris" and so I booked a ticket."

you look back up at her to see her delicate gaze. the rustling of the paper bag stopped the moment of silence

"that's amazing mademoiselle! france is the city for that. you must visit the notre-dam cathedral while you're here, it's beautiful. and maybe even find some love?"

she winks at you and you engage with a small giggle.

just like the show "emily in paris," you could merely fantasize about living a life like hers but it was an altered universe. she was an employed woman and you; a fresh graduate from high school.

"maybe! but i'm not looking forward to dating right now"

it wasn't a lie nor the truth. you would love to date someone right now but dating someone from a foreign country with a language barrier? not the most desirable idea. the owner laughs, handing you your pastry and water bottle.

"thank you for dropping by here mademoiselle! please enjoy your time in france,"

"merci beaucoup" you stumbled out, providing a small wave out.

the airport seemed to be more crowded than before. slowly opening the wrapping, you take a bite of the chocolate croissant and let out an audible gasp.

unquestionably, one of the greatest pastries you have tried in your life.

you promptly pull out your phone, snapping a picture for your instagram story. it was an adorable picture with the bakery in the background with the chocolate croissant in hand.

with "just landed" as your caption, you posted it to your close friends story. almost a second later, sunoo request to video call you.

you were welcomed by a piercing shriek into the phone.

"YAH I WAS JUST GREETED BY YOUR PARENTS WHO SAID YOU WERE AT A SLEEPOVER FOR A COUPLE DAYS? SLEEPOVER MY FOOT? YOU'RE IN PARIS-"

sunoo screeches over the phone and you timidly grimace, turning down the volume as people begin to stare.

"sunoo, i'm currently in a public airport with no earbuds plugged in, can you please STOP screaming?" you whispered audibly to him.

"OH, I FORG- sorry," sunoo sheepishly responds.

"my parents would never let me go this far so i just had to lie that i was going to a sleepover at minji's house which is out of town. plus i'm only going to be here for two days," you consult him.

"you saw me buy the tickets sunoo. why are you scolding me now? shouldn't you have tried to stop me while i was in the middle of buying the tickets?" you added.

"well now i want you to come back, who am i supposed to hang out with for the next 2 days?"

though it was dark in the setting sunoo was in, you could practically see his pouting face.

"you could hang out with jake? or sunghoon? aren't they both your friends?"

jake and sunghoon went to the same school as sunoo and you're buddies with them. you've known each other since middle school but jake and sunghoon were always closer to each other just like you and sunoo.

"jake and sunghoon hyung are busy on a vacation together in the bahamas"

you stifled a laugh in, "good luck being alone for the next two days."

"not funny (y/n)! besides that point, what if you get caught?"

"don't worry, i won't get caught because you're the only one who knows about this .as long as you don't rat me out sunoo," you scowl at him.

"i won't, i won't, i promise but you have to buy me something? deal?”

you roll your eyes, "deal mr. sunoo-shi, i have to go now. i need to try to find my hotel"

"be safe, love you!"

"i will! love you too"

you sulk after the call ends. without your best friend on your side, you felt a little feeble and lost but it's not time to be pondering like that.

paris awaits and you couldn't linger at the airport the whole day.

first challenge

getting to your hotel was a struggling. wandering around a city with no basis of the language besides "hello" and "thank you so much", didn't do enough for you.

first, you had to find a taxi that could converse in english. most people had turned you down as you couldn't speak french.

thankfully, it was a fortunate day and you met this kind lady who had coffee-colored curly locks, gentle chocolate eyes, and light freckles scattered around her face.

"do you speak english?" you crisscrossed your fingers, your legs close to giving out after scrambling for taxi drivers

"yeah, i do mademoiselle! would you like to hop in?" she extended a friendly smile and you had never felt bricks lift off your chest faster.

she opened the back of the taxi and you scouted in, permitting your purse to lay on your lap.

the women examined both directions of the road, looking out for passing cars and entered the driver's seat.

"where are you heading mademoiselle?"

you swiftly pull out your phone to your notes, "hotel le walt paris?"

you corked your eyebrow, making sure it was the right name before she nodded her head.

"a very famous hotel huh? right near the eiffel tower. i recommend that you wait till it gets dark and sit on the balcony to see the eiffel tower with lights. it's beautiful"

you smiled at the kind words of the lady, "i will surely try that! thank you miss..?"

"elena! elena is fine and you mademoiselle?"

"i'm (y/n)"

"it's nice to meet you"

"likewise"

the entire ride, you felt at some peace finally conversing with someone who understood english,

after a 30 minute drive, you had arrived at your destination.

feeling a sad departure from this mellow woman, who turned out to be 19 seeking to make some pocket money in the summer, she was one of the first people that you had grown connected with throughout this ride.

"elena, though it was a short time, thank you for keeping company"

you present her with a warm smile as she unlocks the door for you. you exit the taxi, clasping at your phone.

"here, give me your phone."

you softly planted it in elena's hand. you were perplexed about why she showed you your home screen until you realized you had a password.

you enter your password, giving it back to her. she did a bit of clicking and you could see her hands typing something in before returning the phone back to you.

"that's my instagram, stay in contact with me alright?"

you felt the sides of your lips curve into a slight smile. you dragged her into a soft hug.

"thank you elena"

she visibly hesitant before easing into the hug. she softly rubbed your back.

"i have to go, i might get fired if i stay here too long"

you bided her a fare-well. thirty minutes was an extended time to get a know a person.

and that was the first friend you met in france.

second challenge

checking into your hotel wasn't as difficult. most people could speak english and besides the uncanny looks that you received from the clerk, check-in was pretty smooth.

"here you are mademoiselle" the bellman lowers your suitcase in front of your hotel door.

"merci beaucoup," you smile and he returns the gesture before leaving you.

you look down in your hand where you are grasping the card tightly. you scan the card against the door meter and it flickers twice.

red, green

the door clicks before you push on it and reveal your hotel room.

at first glance, your mouth dropped.

the hotel room seemed better than it did on the online photographs which was a rare possibility.

though it was a small room, it was renovated beautifully.

overhead the king-sized bed, there was an extensive painting of the eiffel tower. a blue chair that held a place directly by the bed along with a little wooden table.

the hotel was fine but you definitely weren't

"(y/n) shut down in,"

"3"

"2"

"1"

before thinking, you throw yourself on the bed having the jet-lag kicking in. the bag offers a 'thump' sound as it connects with the ground.

'ouch that hurt'

you fish through your pocket, pulling out your phone. it was hardly twelve pm and you were already fatigued.

what was your strategy? you were in france for two days and you don't have a plan to do anything.

first things first, you needed to sort out this jet-lag.

1) taking a shower

showers are always a great way to awaken and could shake you from this daze. you endured a scream as your water turned to be ice cold. someone must be utilizing the hot water. that shower unmistakably woke you up

2) skincare

after getting out of the shower, skincare was the secondary way to wake up. cleansing with toner, dropping essence into the skin, and implementing a nice coat of moisturizer to lock-in.

3) fueling with food

food can beat anybody out of slumber if they're fueled with enthusiasm but you didn't have any food on you? that indicates it's time to go out and explore france.

unfastening up your suitcase, you drabble on what you can wear.

reconciling with a simple pair of denim shorts and a light pink tank top, you catch a fast mirror selfie.

being content with the ultimate product, you smile to yourself.

"phone, key, wallet," you whispered, securing the thoughts of having everything.

everything was arranged to go and it was time to tour paris.

third challenge

cruising through paris would be by notably the toughest challenge while you were here.

you had your phone to navigate solely with wifi and you couldn't be that favorable to be able to meet people who could speak english all the time.

you had entered a small restaurant, where you worked to communicate with people in defective french but they moderately understood what you wanted.

after that fiasco trying to order a chicken frricassee, you were able to appreciate your time there along with sending a picture to sunoo who reacted with,

"can that be the souvenir you bring back to me TT?"

you chuckled at the message, knowing typical sunoo, and finished up eating.

eating wasn't the one exclusive thing available in france. there were various activities but you were too afraid to venture any future for the hotel. getting lost too was easy.

that being said, eating after eating all you could do was roam around the city. it was around 2pm and you could spot a diverse crowd of people.

you could see kids. in uniforms that just got out of school or a cute couple that was experiencing their date.

you slightly squint and cover your eyes as the sun is at its highest point.

yes, paris was lovely and you would prefer to travel more but but you didn’ toriginally have a plan

for a couple of hours, you completed wandering around the area where your hotel is. you wished at moments like this that you would have jungwon, sunoo's friend, with you to help navigate you.

jungwon was also a friend you guys met in middle school but he went to your school. very mature for his age and great at preparation.

before you knew it, the sun had died down and it was time to retreat to the hotel.

'ah right! elena told me to look out at the eiffel tower as it gets darker'

you softly tread back to your hotel, observing the blisters at the back of your foot.

you could clearly sense the entire day of walking take a toll on your body.

you scan your key card and fling your bag to the floor as soon as you get inside. you open up your suitcase to change into suitable sleeping clothes.

you briskly cleansed your face and tied your hair back.

you had approached the balcony, guessing how to cautiously open the glass door.

you gradually shift the handle to the right and the door made a scanty creek. you gingerly put more stress on it, opening the balcony wide.

a distinct gasp could be heard from you.

subsequently taking a step onto your balcony, the frail breeze made you quiver in the long black tee that adorned your top half and the sweatpants that settled on your waist.

the balcony was small, barely able to move besides staying still.

you had peered to your right, glancing at the eiffel tower.

elena was correct. the eiffel tower was breath-taking at night. for the first time when landing in france, you could feel in harmony. below you was a crowded street.

it was only 8 pm yet you could feel your eyes droop as opposed to the bouncy pair of kids that ran through the moobs of people.

the radiant yellowish glow of the eiffel tower was able to save you from dozing off. you softly hum 'fly me to the moon,'

'fly me to the moon,' didn't have significance, it felt appropriate in the second.

you hadn't regarded it but a figure had gently peeked out of the other balcony, attentively listening to the silky melody that you were humming.

"nice song"

a voice interrupts and your humming had come to a halt, eyes widened.

you had turned to the origin of the voice and discovered the culprit

the balcony alongside you.

"thank you"

you glanced over, granting him a slight smile before he returns it.

"new to paris?"

he questioned, now you guys facing each other.

"yeah, just arrived this morning, and you?"

you asked before he softly smiles.

"not really, i've been here multiple times but the feeling is something i'll get used too."

you hum as a response

"how did you know to speak english to me? do i really act like a foriegner?"

you were growing more drowsy but this stranger was fascinating. who else could say they met someone and talked to them from a balcony romance?

"english song, random guess"

you nodded your head, not certain if he could see you but that was all you could muster up.

there grows stillness beside the bustling street below until the stranger breaks it.

"i know this sounds weird but since you're new here, would you like to go out with me tomorrow to travel the city?"

that question felt like ice water was just splashed onto your face. the proposal startled you.

the stranger didn't appear like a bad person. been to paris varied times, can acknowledge good music and good at conversation.

as much as this stranger flatter you, how could you trust him?

"as much as i would love to, how do i know that you're not trying to kidnap me, even worse, kill me?"

he stifles a laugh.

"hey knock it off, this is a very serious question, balcony boy"

you snicker, desiring to know the answer than anticipated.

"i promise you that i won't try to kidnap OR kill you. i'm just offering and you can even pat me down before we go out together."

this was by far one of the most peculiar offers you had received but this was THE stranger offer you came to france seeking.

you know sunoo would not advocate for numerous reasons and you can hear his voice already

"number one, dangerous"

"number two, dangerous!"

"number three, DANGEROUS!"

but sunoo isn't here right now. you chose to grab the opportunity. france had provided you luck today.

"alright then"

a moment of silence goes by before you hear him clearing his throat.

"you're serious right?"

he glances at you and your eyes lock. though you can't see that well due to the absence of light, you nod.

the eiffel tower gave you enough light that you could make our curious eyes, tall nose, fair skin that radiated in the soft lighting, and full lips that were curved into a smile

"i'll see you at the lobby at eight,"

next morning

to say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. you agreed to a stranger who claimed to know paris like the back of his palm. you met him off your balcony and now you were agreeing to go a date with him?

"you must be out of your mind!" sunoo exclaimed through the phone.

"well yes i must have been at 8 pm last night when fatigue was hitting the hardest but how can i say no now?"

"i don't know maybe, I DON'T KNOW YOU STRANGER DANGER?" sunoo shouts

and like you foretold last night, sunoo was not a big supporter of this idea. over the course of fifteen minutes, you had been continuously scolded by him.

you cringe, " sunoo, i promise that i'll be fine. i just need you to help me pick out an outfit"

sunoo rolls his eyes, "what are your options?"

though sunoo wasn't supportive of this, he couldn't let you go on a date without style.

you held up two choices; a blue floral dress that settled to your mid-thigh and a pink tennis skirt with a white cami shirt.

"well do we like this guy or do we like LIKE this guy?" sunoo questioned.

"what- well i literally met him last night? so i don't even like him, we're just going out for this one day since he offered"

"uh-huh, then the blue floral dress, it's hot there right?" sunoo says

"super hot," you groan.

you glance at the time, 7:00 am.

"i have to start getting ready sunoo, i'll update you later alright?" you smile

"alright, try not to get killed but have fun too! love you"

"love you too," you say back before hanging up.

you quickly hop in the shower and make sure to not take too long.

doing skincare, putting on the outfit, and spraying a little bit of perfume, you are ready to head out the door.

one last check to make sure you have all the things.

7:58 am

you quickly head down to see several people in the lobby.

a bellman, a pair of teenage girls who seemed like they were dragged here, a couple around the mid-40s trying to check-in, and a teenage boy that rested on one of the lobby seats.

it was evident who the balcony boy was but you just called out to be safe.

"balcony boy," you say.

the teenage boy that was seated turns around before flashing you a smile.

"miss singer,"

you airly chuckle at the nickname.

observing him in person was a lot different. you could see his long body proportion, bright eyes, sharp jawline, with fair skin that complimented his rich brown hair.

a distinct experience from seeing him on the balcony.

"i'm (y/n)! and you?" you ask

"i'm lee heeseung"

63 notes · View notes

karaboutmyart · 3 years

Text

rain

a frodo/sam drabble

hope you enjoy this!! I wanted to write something soft :)) this is my first ever time writing this pairing, so I hope its accurate IDK I tried my best <33

word count : 1,516

The blackening sky had grown over them, until naught but the moon was covered, which cast little light through the shadow of the clouds. Samwise had savored this light as he would savor a freshly picked apple in the autumn, yet even the sweetest flavor would not stay forever-- soon, the silver light of the moon had vanished as well, and he was left with nothing. The darkness seemed to shroud every corner, this night around, as it had begun to grow each day they came closer to the land of Mordor, the land of evil. He knew that soon his hope would diminish with this light, but right now, he would not let that be the case. Especially as he looked to his companion, Frodo, and saw his tired, pained expression in the blackness of night.

He turned this expression over in his head, mirroring it with his own frown, watching as Frodo bowed his head and clutched the ring around his neck-- acting as if he was keeping something hidden, a secret that only he could know. Yet Sam knew what this secret was-- yes, the ring was taking hold of him, slowly, and soon his master would submit to its taunts, its whispers, its chides. He kept his eyes upon Frodo, softening his frown, before creeping forward. Perhaps this secret was his own, but he would not let him give up, nor submit to the tenebrosity of his own self doubt; a darkness so thick that one could not see his own hand, even just mere inches from the cornea.

Sam gently brushed his fingers along Frodo's arm, causing the other to pull his head up and come eye to eye with him. The circles beneath his eyes were darker, swollen and red from obvious lack of sleep, and his face was pale. Sickly, he looked, his cheekbones visible and his jaw quivering ever so slightly upon the sight of Sam. The gardener slowly, and carefully, pulled his hand away, each finger leaving his master's arm with such caution, as if the other would break apart upon the separation of one another.

"Mister Frodo? How do you feel?" Sam murmured, visible lines of concern creasing his face. There was a small silence between them for the moment afterwards, rather than the sounds of a stream nearby. The darkness swayed.

"You should not worry about me, Samwise," Frodo responded back, his eyes softening along with the hand clasped around the Ring. He drew himself back, taking a small, trembling breath. He began again. "I am fine, after all. You should get some rest. We have a long journey tomorrow." There was no break in his voice, but Sam could see the hurt in his eyes. He was just as tired, and deserved just as much rest as he-- if not, more, and Sam let out a quicker, sterner breath.

"But you need rest too, Mister Frodo! Pardon my frustration, sir, but you've not slept for days-- and you've hardly eaten, at all. I've noticed it since we split from the fellowship, even before that. I can't help it. I worry about you, and there isn't anything I can do to cease that worry," he said, a small snap in the night.

Another pause. He was afraid Frodo would rear back and get angry with him, would yell, but the other merely turned to gaze at the dark clouds above them in the sky, a gentle autumn thunder rolling across the warm land. His lip quivered more, as if he would cry, but instead he let out a small chuckle. "I know there isn't stopping you from worrying over me, Sam," he murmured, "And I'm grateful to have you with me." He turned, returning his stare upon Sam, his hand reaching out to gently grab the other's. His fingers were cold as ice. But Sam did not let go.

Sam could feel a small flustered feeling build up beneath his chest, fluttering there like moths. He kept his eyes steady upon Frodo, and returned the handheld, looking down to their hands, wrapped together in a tender and loving sense. Yes, he could not deny what he felt with the other-- a sense of worry, of course, but also something deeper, something that lingered far longer than he could know. He thought of the promise he made to Gandalf, and knew that he didn't even need to promise this; he would have gone with Frodo to the end anyways.

"Oh, Sam," Frodo murmured, causing Samwise to look up and into his blue eyes, shining briefly beneath the temporary moonlight as the clouds continued to roll over, a gentle thunder accompanying his words, "The Ring is loud. Everyday, those whispers are tempting me to bring in straight into Mordor, and give into the Enemy. To give up. To put the Ring on and give it all away." He reached forward, and grabbed Sam's other hand. "But your voice is louder, Sam. You silence those words that the Enemy has to say. I do not know how far I will make it… but I know I would not have made it this far without you." His voice had wavered at the end, cracking with emotion. Sam immediately squeezed his hands, gently, staring upon his face.

"Oh, don't cry, Mister Frodo. I would have gone with you, anyhow. Because I love you, and I could not bear to see you so alone, and in such a state."

Their eyes had drifted to each other's lips, for a fleeting moment, and when Frodo had caught that, his hands relaxed beneath Sam's. He drew his face forward, hovering just in front of the other's. His breath had been quick, and his heart fluttered so fast behind his chest, that Sam could not help but notice that weight that seemed to lay upon his shoulders, the burden of the Ring written behind his face, underneath the softness, the fondness for his companion. They kept close, until Sam parted, drawing away with a flushed face and surprised expression.

The weight seemed to increase, sending a small panic through Sam's chest. He watched as Frodo's face fell for a small moment, before returning to it's typical, exhausted state. "Why did you pull away, my dear Sam?" He asked-- he did not sound hurt, only curious, full of understanding.

"I just… I'm worried, is all. About-- about kissing you. I don't want you to be disappointed, and it'll make it uncomfortable between us. You already have so much burden, Mister Frodo. And kissing you will only add to something to worry about," Sam rambled, his ears growing awfully warm as these words left his mouth. He already felt foolish, as if he had just embarrassed himself-- and perhaps he had, knowing that Frodo probably thought he was crazy, now.

Frodo raised both brows, and a small, amused smile settled upon his lips. "Oh, Sam," he chuckled, fondly, "My dearest Sam. You have nothing to worry about. I promise that much." He placed his hand on Sam's again, and drew his face back to the position before, just in front of his companion's. "You are my closest friend, and something even more in my heart. I am comfortable with you, always."

Sam could only relax at that, a small, soft smile spreading across his lips. He drew his face forward as well, eyes fluttering closed. Their lips brushed, a small hesitation following, before Frodo had surged forward and planted his lips upon Sam's. He held his lips there for quite some time, locked against the other's in a comfortable manner. One hand had felt around Sam's neck, sending a small shiver through the gardener. After a long moment, both had drawn away from each other, staring into each other's eyes. The sky had remained dark, deep clouds rumbling with thunder, but both seemed to not care.

Frodo smiled, but it was sad, and his eyes clouded over with thought. He slowly let go of Sam, but his hands found the other's, and they pressed closer to each other, knowing that it would rain soon, and they would need the touch for warmth. Yet Frodo remained quiet, and it had panicked Sam even further, wondering if he had been true about his feelings.

"Are you alright, Frodo?" Sam asked, as they huddled close to each other. It had soon begun to rain, big drops falling from the dark sky, until quickening into something lighter, yet harder, and soon both hobbits were drenched. Frodo gently tugged Sam, beckoning him towards a more sheltered area against the mountain. When they had gotten there, he turned to Sam, holding both of his hands, eyes sad, and full of love.

"I'm fine, Sam," he muttered, taking a small breath, "It's only… your lips."

There was a pause, as a calm thunder shook the cliffside, and rain fell gently around them, pitter-pattering in a way that showered the earth. It felt soft upon Sam's face, cooling the heat that began to pulse through him, upon Frodo's next words:

"They taste like home."

#my writing #lord of the rings #lotr frodo #lotr sam #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #frosam #samfro #writing #soft #drabble #lotr drabble

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dancingkirby · 3 years

Text

Shipping

I’m sorry, but it had to be done. Do y’all think this would work better as a Short Story, or just a oneshot on its own?

DAY 1

To celebrate the tenth anniversary of his ascension to the throne, Zuzu and Mai were off on a world tour. Azula had been left in charge of ruling the country. While Azula was glad that he was finally realizing that she wasn’t always thinking about world domination all the time, so far her regency had been extremely boring. Now, she was more than halfway through it, and absolutely nothing of note had happened.

Today had started out like all the others. She hadn’t slept great the night before because of the high winds that had battered Capital Island, and they hadn’t ebbed down very much by morning. She’d had trouble getting her hair to stay in its topknot while training. But the morning council meeting had proven as tedious as ever. Azula was paying the exact minimum amount of attention required as the ministers droned on about tax brackets; most of her brain was occupied on what she would have for lunch that day. Noodles were always nice, but she’d had them for two days in a row now. Anytime she ate any food on multiple consecutive days, there was always the risk of speculation among the courtiers that she might be pregnant. Never mind that she hadn’t even done any sex acts that could result in pregnancy for years…

The door to the meeting hall abruptly swung open. An out-of-breath messenger stood in the doorway, blushing deeply as nearly twenty pairs of annoyed eyes scrutinized him.

“You do realize that you are intruding on a confidential council meeting, correct?” Azula inquired of him.

“I’m t-terribly sorry, P-princess,” the messenger managed to get out. “But I was told that this needed your immediate attention.” Could it be…that something interesting was about to occur for a change?

“All right. What is it?” she asked. At her hand motion, the messenger climbed up to the dais and whispered in Azula’s ear.

“Okay. I’ll be right there. We will continue this meeting at a time to be determined later,” Azula stated.

So here she was on a tugboat, looking at the enormous cargo ship that had somehow gotten wedged into the Strait of Azulon. Azula turned to the old salt who was leading efforts to remove it and said, “Explain.”

“That ship is called the Agni-Given, Princess,” the man said somewhat stiltedly; it appeared that he was trying to rein in a sailor’s natural tendency to use copious foul language. “It’s one of the largest cargo ships in the world. Today, it was passing through the strait when the high winds pushed it off-course and into a sandbar. It also got tangled in some old nets from the Gates. We’ve been trying out dam…darndest to free it, but no luck.”

Azula took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly out of her nose. “And what have these initial attempts included?”

“We attached every tugboat in the harbor to it to try to pull it out, but it didn’t work, Princess. That fu…freaking thing is stuck deep into a sandbar. Next step would be to try to dig it out.”

“Explain how that would be accomplished.”

“Yes…well…”–the old man paused–“We ain’t sure yet, to be honest. The problem is that the place where the bow is stuck is seventy feet underwater. All of the excavating machines available were built for use on land. We was thinking of trying to get some of those new forklifts, try to extend their reach, and bring them out on boats, but…that would take time.”

“Forklifts? Is that the best you could come up with?” Azula demanded. She found herself imitating her brother’s famed nose-bridge pinch. This would not do at all. She needed an ingenue, someone who could design a whole new kind of machine if need be. And she thought she knew exactly where to find one.

DAY 2

It had been the end of a long day, without much progress being made. Azula was just about to demand that the larger, more comfortable boat they’d made ready for her today take her back to the harbor when, at long last, the other ship that she had been awaiting arrived. After this watercraft was tethered to hers, a figure came running down the gangplank, arms outstretched.

“Azula!” Sokka exclaimed. “How’s it going? We haven’t seen each other in forever…hey!” His attempts at embracing her had been thwarted by the princess grabbing his shirt at arm’s length.

“Not in public, remember?!” she hissed. Then, just as formally as if he were any old dignitary, she added in normal tones, “Councilman Sokka. It is good to see you here. I trust that your journey here was uneventful?”

“Yeah, except we had to go around the long way because of…well…that,” Sokka replied, gesturing at the still firmly-entrenched Agni-Given. “So how do you want me to assist, O Princess?” He did a little bow, and could not quite manage to keep a straight face.

“Watch it,” Azula reprimanded again. Whenever they encountered each other, she always needed to remind him that their relationship was a melding of intellects and occasionally flesh; romance had absolutely no place in it.

“I recall that you designed a vehicle that could travel underwater,” she explained. “Would it be possible to modify this concept and attach equipment for shoveling? Or perhaps even the capacity for finer manipulation to untangle the net remnants?”

Sokka took a few moments to consider as he beheld the enormous ship. Finally, he replied, “Yeah, I think that’d be possible. It’ll take a while to draw up plans and get everything built, though.”

“Very well,” Azula told him. “I suppose we shall have to simply endure each other’s company for a little longer.”

“’Endure?’ Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Sokka gave a wink that was obviously meant to be seductive, but in fact only made him look ridiculous. Azula elbowed him in the ribs.

They did, in fact, end up fucking that night, after Sokka had eaten what seemed to be about half of the palace’s food supply for dinner. They hadn’t seen each other in more than three years, and Azula was scrupulous about taking her contraceptive tea, so why not?

Sokka tried to kiss Azula after, but she didn’t let him.

DAY 3

Zuko had sent a message asking if he should cut his celebratory tour short and come home to help with this problem, but Azula quickly scribbled out a reply that they had everything under control.

Today was the day that Sokka would first meet with the team of engineers assigned to resolve this problem.

“And I’m sure that all of you will give him the respect that he deserves,” Azula told them in the most pleasant voice she could manage. Some of them were obviously pissy about being forced to consult with a man who was half most of their ages. Well, too bad. Anyone who tried to ignore him would be upbraided with the utmost harshness personally by her.

DAY 10

The manufacturing process had begun. Sokka informed her that he had dubbed this new invention the “shovelmarine.” He did not attempt to conceal his sheer glee at this horrible pun. Azula threw a pillow at him.

While the two of them worked by day and screwed by night, things were starting to get out of hand in the Harbor District. The plight of the Agni-Given had captured the imagination of the public, and kiosks had sprouted all over the piers selling miniature models of the grounded ship. It seemed that every single street musician in the city had composed his or her own ballad about the situation. Fan magazines had been established simply for the purpose of publishing the flood of stories and art that the more creatively-minded citizens had concocted. Azula had gotten a hand on one of these volumes, and her favorite story was a somewhat graphic recounting of a speculated liaison between the Agni-Given and the statue of her grandfather. Apparently, the statue was the dominant partner in this relationship…just as it should be.

This magazine had also included a drawing depicting her own activities with Sokka. She knew that she should be furious about this; that the culprit should be tracked down and executed, but she found it just too amusing. The picture was even surprisingly accurate, except that Azula had not actually handcuffed Sokka to her bedpost. They had improvised with the sash from her nightrobe instead.

DAY 16

“Okay, lets see what these shovelmarines can do!” Sokka said as the contraptions touched the open ocean for the first time. The two of them watched from the boat that was by now almost as familiar to Azula as her own suite of rooms at the palace were.

As it turned out, the shovelmarines (Azula had grudgingly accepted this terrible name) could do quite a bit. Over the next several days, they worked steadily at the problem. Finally, three weeks to the day after the Agni-Given had first gotten stuck, it once again floated freely, although it would be have to be drydocked to repair all the damage.

In his excitement, Sokka had tried to kiss Azula. She had initially resisted, but he had used his ultimate weapon: polar bear dog eyes.

“All right, but only once. And on the cheek,” she cautioned him.

DAY 25

Sokka had departed two days ago, and Azula hoped that he wouldn’t try to send love letters or anything stupid like that. He should know how it worked by now. Whenever they happened to meet, they would rekindle their affair for the duration of the visit, and then they went their separate ways until their next encounter. Of course, they wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever, but it would be fun while it lasted.

And today…Zuzu and Mai made their triumphant return from their tour.

“Wow,” said Zuko as the two of them stood at the harbor, observing as the last of the debris was carried away. “You and Sokka took care of that whole mess all on your own! Thank you, Azula.” At this point, he obviously knew from experience not to make any comments about her relationship with the nonbender.

“Why do you sound so surprised, brother?” Azula asked, turning toward him and raising an eyebrow. “It’s almost like I am, in fact, a competent ruler and don’t spend all of my days dreaming of bloodshed and destruction! Who would have ever guessed?”

“That’s not what…” Zuko began, but he could say no more as Azula caught him by surprise, got him in a headlock, and began inflicting a merciless noogie on him.

“Admit it, Zuko,” she crowed. “I’m awesome!”

“Okay, I surrender!” he squeaked out. “You’re awesome.”

She released him. “There. That wasn’t so hard, now, was it? Now let’s go get some ice cream.”

And so they did.

#azula #sokka #fanfic #sokkla #sort of #keep in mind that this is a rough draft

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

The Best Mistake of My Life - Pt.5

The A+ Day...

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2320

Summary: A soulmate AU. They say having a soulmate is a blessing. Who wouldn’t love the idea of star-crossed lovers, right?

You get to spend the day with the Avengers. Should you be excited or scared? Well, Steve is by your side, so...

Warnings: swearing, FLUFF, Steve’s friends being Steve’s friends… go figure

Story masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

You were very comfy and very warm. Maybe even too warm. Also, your covers were moving behind your back and that was a bit odd, but you blamed the sensation on the morning confusion. Your bed smelled nicer than usual too. You nuzzled closer into the moving warmth, content it stilled its movements.

Except that after that, it talked.

“Sorry to wake you,” the comforter whispered hoarsely and it was like a shot of adrenaline to your veins, making you jolt fully awake, sitting up straight, causing your head to pound with the swift movement.

That was Steve’s voice.

Because you were sleeping in Steve’s bed.

“Are you okay?” he asked lowly, but you couldn’t respond right away. The memories came rushing back to you, messy but warmly fuzzy images of last night.

You had danced with Steve. Steve had kissed you. Steve had kissed you a lot.

Your lips unwittingly curled up in a smile despite the abrupt wake-up process. You heard him moving at your side, sitting up as well, so you turned to him, still grinning in perfect contrast to his concerned face.

He looked adorable with his hair sticking in every direction, a bit sleepy expression on his face, and he was also still very much shirtless. You were sure you woke up to heaven.

“Sorry to freak out. I was just… ugh, confused for a bit,” you explained, keeping your voice on low level just like he did, worried you might disturb the peace. “Good morning, Steve.”

His face cleared of worried wrinkles and he charmed a smile for you. “Morning, doll. Slept well?”

“Very. You?”

“Yeah.”

You just stared at each other, grinning like fools, eyes sparkling. You must have looked ridiculous, but you didn’t care. Subconsciously, when he released you from the lock of his eyes, your gaze wandered over him, appreciating the lack of clothing. How could person have a body this marvellous? You knew it was probably the effect of the serum, but gosh. What a view.

Good morning indeed.

You noticed a blush spreading down his neck and quickly snapped your gaze back to where it was decent. But hey, when you were offered a view like this, you simply had to make the best of the opportunity!

Steve seemed a bit sheepish, but you couldn’t help but notice that a new glint appeared in his irises, something in the way he was watching you back that gave out that maybe, you weren’t the only person to enjoy the situation at hand. It took you a second to realize why that was – you were wearing his clothes.

You remembered Ryan telling you about what it felt like to him, seeing a girl – or a guy in his case – in his clothes. Like a flag on a flagpole, mark of ownership on a conquered land, he had told you.

No funny business had happened between you and Steve last night, but the thought still made your face hot all over. To cover your embarrassment, you ducked your head to Steve’s shoulder, resting your forehead on it.

Steve tensed at first, but quickly recovered and sank his fingers gently into your hair, very carefully caressing your scalp, wary of pulling at your hair and causing you pain. You hummed in appreciation, instinctively brushing the nearest patch of skin with your lips – an inked patch of skin. You smiled against your will at that. Your words. Your ridiculous first words to him.

His breath caught in his throat at your bold move, but a kiss landed at the top of our head, so you figured you didn’t overstep.

“How much do you hate morning breath?” he muttered, sounding a bit embarrassed.

“Not particularly…?” you answered, not sure where that headed.

Looking back, you really should have understood what he was asking. Then again, the pleasant surprise of his fingers gently finding your jaw and tilting your head so he could kiss you right on the lips, warm and soft and sweet, was worth the lack of your brain function. You melted, your palm finding a way to lie flat on his very bare chest, feeling every expansion of his ribcage, his skin burning. He deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair enough to make you notice and boy, did it do things to you. You sighed into his mouth, content and yet needy for more, a second from climbing into his lap, too fast development be damned.

Just as you were out of breath, he released you, his thumb drawing a soft circle on your cheek. It was cliché, but your fingertips were literally tingling with euphoria and excitement.

“Wow,” you breathed out, still feeling his breath tickling your lips as he had barely moved away. “Can I stay another night? Can I be woken up like this every morning?”

He gave a breathy laugh, making your eyes snap open, and you could see the blown black of his pupils, the gleam of wanting more now diluted with giddiness.

“Can’t say I’d complain,” he admitted with a lopsided smile radiant on his kiss-swollen lips.

God, he was so handsome. Had you mentally noted he was handsome before? You still couldn’t believe it.

“That an invitation?”

“I mean, if you convince Tony…”

“Oh god, I take it back,” you groaned, falling back to the sheets dramatically, rewarded with Steve’s light-hearted laugh.

He laid down on his side then, propped on his elbow, watching you with a soft smile. “Thank you for staying.”

You let out what surely was a very unattractive snort. “’Cause not having to go home and not having to hail a cab in the middle of the night was a real sacrifice…”

Steve was fully grinning now, dropping a playful kiss on your nose, which caused you to giggle.

“I know, my lady. Let me make up for the hardship you had suffered through with making you breakfast.”

“You sound like Thor. Also, offering breakfast to a girl? You are a dangerous man, Steve Rogers,” you stated, the stupid smile simply not disappearing from your face no matter how much you tried to get it under control; so you gave up on that. “You seem to know just the way to my heart.”

“I sure hope so. Are you coming with the adorable bed-hair or do you want a minute?”

You gasped at the cheeky comment, grabbing the pillow by his head to smack his stupidly perfect skull.

His laughter filled the room and you felt like the happiest person on Earth.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

When Steve led you to the communal kitchen and dining room ten minutes later, you were surprised to find three people already there. Clint was sitting at the bar, his head resting in his palm, a mug of coffee hazardously close in your opinion, just in case he would actually fell asleep and faceplanted on the counter; Bruce was sitting nearby, watching over him, while Natasha was standing at the cooker, making…

“Are those pancakes?” you gasped, your stomach instantly reacting to the smell, making you squirm in humiliation. Steve at your side chuckled, while Natasha grinned at you.

“Yep. There’s enough for you too. Unless Steve wants to impress you with his own cooking skills,” she teased and winked at him. He smiled bashfully in return.

“I mean… maybe next time? Since you already started…”

“Oh-ho, so there will be a next time?” Clint wolf-whistled, startling you with both the question and sudden sign of life.

“Let them be…. Coffee?” Bruce beckoned to the pot. You bit you lip bashfully. You didn’t want to be rude, but coffee… “Or maybe tea?”

You lighted up. “If it’s not too much trouble…”

“I’ll do it,” Steve hurried before the other man could rise from his seat. He pecked your temple. ”You go sit.”

“Yes, sir…”

Looking around, you weren’t sure where to. Between Bruce and Clint? Next to Clint since Bruce was at the bar stool at the end of the counter?

“You can sit next to Clint. It’s safe. This is his second mug of coffee,” Natasha supplied helpfully and you frowned in confusion. Perhaps an inside joke. “Yes, he is dangerous before he finishes his first.”

“Hey!” the man in question complained, but rolled his eyes for your benefit. “That’s actually accurate. You can sit here, I don’t bite.”

“He’s just a pain in everyone’s ass.”

“Morning to you too, Stark,” Clint saluted him and a mug of tea landed in front of you, soon followed by a stack of pancakes.

“You’re gonna spoil me. Thank you,” you said in earnest.

Natasha waved it off, while Steve let out a simple “Planning on it.”

“So you didn’t spoil her last night?” the billionaire hummed casually, pouring himself a coffee. Your eyes widened and you rather started eating to avoid an answer. Steve only sighed.

Neither of you replied, which earned you some raised eyebrows.

“She seems right at home in his clothes, huh?” Clint added and you shot him a look, mortified. Him too?

“She does, doesn’t she? Sign of a successful night?”

Steve grinded his teeth at Stark’s latest remark, turning a bit red in his face. You sipped your tea, figuring out a sassy response.

“Very successful. I slept like a baby. Sleeping duty fulfilled,” you announced and noticed that Bruce’s lips twitched as if he was holding back a smile. You continued. “That will be all, thank you for your questions. For further information, contact our PR department. ….Ouch, we don’t have one, looks like it’s none of your business then. Too bad…”

Tony’s mouth was theatrically hanging open, his hand clutching his chest and Clint’s eyes seemed rounder than a moment before; then again, that could just be because of the amount of caffeine in his system. Natasha chuckled, positioning a plate in front of Steve – his stack of pancakes was visibly taller and you wondered just how much he had to eat.

Speaking of Steve, he was smugly grinning into his mug. “I have nothing to add.”

“Still though. She’s like… shining or something. That’s released endorphins, I can tell. Good job, Cap.”

You internally whined.

If they keep that up, staying overnight is gonna start feeling like a sacrifice.

“Play nice, boys,” Natasha scolded them and you smiled at her gratefully. “Let the poor girl eat. She’s gotta make up for the calories Steve helped her burn…”

“You too?” you burst out simultaneously with Steve and Natasha raised her hands in a harmless gesture.

“I meant when you were dancing. What did you think I was talking about?” she asked innocently and everyone in the room but you two laughed.

“I hate you,” Steve mouthed at her and she just winked in return, turning her attention back to her cooking.

You wished for the Earth to swallow you, but you liked the teasing air hovering above the group of friends. You smiled reassuringly at Steve, stroking him arm shortly.

“It’s okay, Steve. I still like you despite your annoying friends,” you emphasized the last words, which was followed by affective aww from Clint, Tony and Natasha.

Steve smiled at you, apologetic and kind. “Thanks, doll. You’re the best.”

To show his appreciation, he kissed your cheek, the innocent gesture drawing a wolf-whistle from Tony.

“Get a room!”

You just rolled your eyes and stole a quick peck from Steve’s lips for a good measure. He tasted like coffee; it seemed you might grow fond of that taste after all.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Despite all the odds, everyone survived breakfast. They teased you once more after you asked about Thor, learning he had left in early morning because of an urgent matter on Asgard. After all, he was son of the King. And an Alien. And a demigod. Apparently, you knew those now. What an insanity your life became in such a short time.

The team went separate ways after the meddling over the most important meal of the day. Steve stayed with you, of course, showing you around the Tower. You marvelled at the view and despite having a tiny fear of heights, you agreed to Steve taking you outside at the top.

It was incredible. You found yourselves basically on the top of the world, steps slightly shaky, but with Steve’s firm reassurance. You trusted him not to let you fall. So trying to keep your mind of the potential life-ending fall, you busied your mind with how touchy-feely Steve quickly became after sharing the first kiss yesterday night. You loved it.

When you came to a stop, you were unable to resist the urge to spread your arms and let the gentle wind play with your hair and rather loose clothes; Steve’s hands found their way to your hips to steady you. Slowly, he moved further, his fingers running in a feather-light touch over your arms and threading his fingers with yours.

You giggled and dared to lean onto him with your back, testing the waters. His lips brushed your cheek and you couldn’t but turn your head, catching his mouth with yours in a searing kiss. He was so sweet. You trusted him with your life, knowing he would never allow you to even stumble, and yet you were falling, falling for him so hard. The realization was overwhelming.

How could you be… falling in love so fast?

Steve gently squeezed your fingers, brining your joined hands to your waist and you decided you didn’t care and let the kiss consume you.

When you finally parted, your eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze. You couldn’t stop smiling.

“Put Titanic on your list, huh?” you murmured, your brain turned into a useless mass of lovesick jello.

Laughter was twinkling in Steve’s eyes. “Not really. It’s a perk of the movie nights, we take turns in who’s picking.”

You frowned in confusion. “Who chose Titanic?”

For some reason, Natasha didn’t strike you the type. Clearly, you were right, because Steve chuckled.

“Clint.”

You burst out laughing, Steve soon joining you. You wondered if the whole Manhattan could hear you. Once again, you had no care in the world.

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Part 6

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Tags are open, you want in or out, let me know :))

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I actually had to split it into two parts, because it was waaay to much fluff in one go an that coming from me? You better believe it!

Thank you for reading. Attempt at humour will come later, promise ;)

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #soulmate #soulmate au #avengers #mcu #reader insert #the best mistake of my life #anika ann

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theorajones · 3 years

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OR IS HE?

I present to you, the Michael Knight Manwhore Index!

This was shamelessly ripped off from inspired by Sara_merry’s Michael Knight Sex Project on LJ, which tragically appears to have been abandoned after the first 14 episodes. But having a) a ton of spare time on my hands due to the ongoing Coronapocalypse, b) a steadfast dedication to sitting around in my pajamas watching Knight Rider instead of cleaning the gutters or replacing my car’s valve cover gaskets and c) a burning need to know how accurate my estimate of Michael’s conquests was in my last trashy fanfic, I persevered.

Methodology: I assigned each prominent female guest character (and the occasional male and/or regular character) a probability of having gotten it on with Michael, based on my subjective interpretation of how much they flirted/made out/made plans for a romantic getaway/actually went on a romantic getaway. Episodes in which at least one character had a 50% or greater probability (including with characters who were talked about but not seen onscreen) were assigned a value of 1. Episodes with a 49% or lower probability were assigned a value of 0. Values were totaled to calculate each season’s MKMI number.

TL;DR results:

(# denotes probable sexytimes with someone who wasn’t seen onscreen, * denotes Michael’s participation was most likely non-consensual)

Season 1 MKMI number: 13

04 - Good Day at White Rock 05 - Slammin’ Sammy’s Stunt Show Spectacular 06 - Just My Bill # 07 - Not a Drop to Drink 08 - No Big Thing # 09 - Trust Doesn’t Rust # 10 - Inside Out 11 - The Final Verdict 13 - Forget Me Not 15 - Give Me Liberty... or Give Me Death 16 - The Topaz Connection 17 - A Nice, Indecent Little Town 20 - Knight Moves

Season 2 MKMI number: 6

06 - Return to Cadiz 07 - KITT the Cat 08 - Custom KITT 14 - Diamonds Aren’t a Girl’s Best Friend 18/19 - Goliath Returns * 23 - Let It Be Me

Season 3 MKMI number: 7

09 - Dead of Knight 12 - Custom Made Killer # 13 - Knight by A Nose 14 - Junk Yard Dog 15 - Buy Out 17 - The Nineteenth Hole 22 - Circus Knights

Season 4 MKMI number: 5

03 - KITTnap 08 - Many Happy Returns 12 - The Scent of Roses 16 - Redemption of a Champion 22 - Voo Doo Knight

Conclusion: Michael is not nearly as much of a manwhore as people think, at least based on what we see onscreen. Although he clearly does have a social life outside of what we’re shown in every episode, so there’s still a world of possibilities...

Detailed episode analysis below the cut:

s1e01/02 - Knight of the Phoenix

Lonnie - Don't seem to know each other very well, no signs of other than professional interest. Probability: 0%

Tanya - Some kind of working relationship as Michael Long, but she doesn't seem to recognize his voice as MK. Plus he was possibly still engaged to Stevie as ML.

T: "I can promise you a very rewarding... *partnership*." M: "Not this time."

Probability: 5% (as ML) 0% (as MK)

Maggie - She expresses regret at not going for him at the end, but also seems more interested in finding a father figure for her son. It's implied that Michael left town before anything could happen. He did say he'd come back and visit. Did he ever? Would Maggie be up for a fling even though she knows he can't settle down? Potentially but not necessarily.

Probability - 30%

s1e03 - Deadly Maneuvers

Robin - They keep things mostly professional during the investigation. Michael goes to his own hotel room. At the end, it looks like he and Devon are leaving together. Michael is wearing a different shirt in the last scene than in the one where he rescues Robin from the munitions range so it's unclear how much time has passed. Theoretically sexytimes could have transpired but there aren't really any strong suggestions that they have.

Probability: 10%

s1e04 - Good Day at White Rock

Sherry - "Keep driving." "For how long?" "Until one of us runs out of gas."

Probability: 95%

s1e05 - Slammin' Sammy's Stunt Show Spectacular

Lisa - She's definitely interested. And he's sticking around for another 3 weeks, so definitely some opportunity. He doesn't seem as flirtatious with her as he was with Sherry but it's definitely a possibility.

Probability: 70%

s1e06 - Just My Bill

Sabrina (offscreen) - Devon breaks Michael's date with her. Not enough info to draw any conclusions about whether it's a first and/or last date. A definite possibility.

Probability: 50%

Senator Maggie - That would have been subversive af, but alas, no.

Probability: 0%

Jane - Doesn't seem that into him at their first meeting. At their breakfast date he asks her how she slept, which presumably he'd know if he'd been there. She does go out to lunch with him and Devon at the end. Possible but not conclusive.

Probability: 25%

s1e07 - Not A Drop to Drink

Francesca - They have kind of a "channel the sexual tension into arguments" thing, but like Maggie in the pilot, she's probably looking more for somebody who can settle down. Another one where he talks at the end about coming back to visit but we don't know if he ever does. Maybe?

Probability: 50%

S1e08 - No Big Thing

The Unnamed 200-Mile Diversion Girl (offscreen) - I doubt he drove 200 miles out of his way just for coffee and friendly conversation.

Probability: 90%

Carol Reston - They have dinner together but seem to be keeping things strictly business. No apparent indication that they're romantically interested, no "Come back and visit sometime."

Probability: 0%

s1e09 - Trust Doesn't Rust

Rosalyn and/or Rosalie (offscreen) - "What's wrong with a little 'companionship'?"

Probability: 90%

Bonnie - They almost kiss after defeating KARR, but mutually think better of it. Presumably the moment passes and stays passed for another few seasons of UST.

Probability: 0%

s1e10 - Inside Out

(This ep has a higher than average amount of sexual innuendo, including KITT's breathless response to Bonnie adjusting his components, Michael commenting that Bonnie knows how to turn KITT on, KITT straight-facedly giving Michael an accounting of Bonnie's measurements after Michael wonders whether there's a real woman under her jumpsuit, and Michael & KITT's "Maybe I can get something from the girl"/ "I wouldn't touch that line with a 10 foot driveshaft" conversation. "Don't worry, I'll distract her."/"I'll bet." "What was that all about?"/"Biology.")

Linda - WTF was up with him grabbing her in the woods like a skeezoid rapist when he just wanted to give her dinner? She doesn't kick him in the balls so I guess that counts for something. They hug after a conversation in her room later, hold hands and smooch before she goes off to do... something mission related. She saves his ass and helps him drop off the bad guys at the prison. Do they celebrate later? Maybe.

Probability: 70%

s1e11 - The Final Verdict

Cheryl - They're pretty touchy-feely when he visits her in jail, and she gives him a pretty good kiss at the end. Odds are good that they had/will have a romantic relationship at some point.

Probability: 90%

s1e12- A Plush Ride

M: I wanna search Margo's room. K: I've heard that one before. M: It'll give you something to brood about during the night.

Margo - (spoiler alert) She's a terrorist. They get physical when she catches him searching her room but it doesn't turn into anything more than fighting. He kisses her (in front of everybody, wtf) after she (supposedly) saves him from being murdered by Jacobs. But the next time we see the two of them together, she's taking him prisoner. She's pretty touchy-feely with him while he's tied up but there's no time for her to do anything (and presumably he wouldn't be into it if she did, what with her being a terrorist and all).

Probability: 0%

Bonnie - Uncharacteristically flirtatious, appears to be a bit tipsy. No real implication that anything happened, though.

Probability: 0%

s1e13 - Forget Me Not

Maria Elena - They're flirting up a storm in their first scene. And their third one. And fourth one. Also she's frequently scantily clad around him. Michael to KITT in the last scene: "See you in two days, buddy." Oh yeah, he was planning something.

Probability: 95%

Micki - She's a little flirtatious too before she loses her memory (although he starts it by fake-flirting with her). And also feels comfortable enough to just run around in Michael's shirt and little else after she loses her memory, although she says she doesn't just meet guys at parties and go home with them (she thinks). He tells her she's a nice lady but doesn't seem that romantically interested in her.

Probability: 10% Until...

Maria Elena & Micki - They've become fast friends by the last scene and both kiss him on the cheek at the same time after he brings them both flowers (at KITT's instigation). Why do I get the feeling "Anybody wanna cruise a hamburger joint?" was as close as they could get to implying a threesome on 80s family hour tv?

Probability: 60%

s1e14 - Hearts of Stone

M: KITT, don't fall in love with one of these beautiful cars and run off on me, huh?

K: I wouldn't dream of it.

Angie - She's with Roberto. Also (spoiler alert) a scam artist criminal.

Probability - 0%

The blonde lady at the bar - They flirt and she tells him she hopes to see him later, but no indication that she ever does.

Probability: 5%

Devon - Oh man, the way he's eyeing Michael up in his hotel room. And if we're still in the pilot universe, Michael is a dead ringer for a young Wilton, whom I will never be unconvinced Devon wasn't either secretly in love with or a relationship with, s2 Devon Miles Heterosexuality Minutes be damned. We never really get any indication that Michael swings that way, though (at least with non-automotive males, *wink*).

Probability: 0%

The nurse - In the novelization she flirts with him and kisses him, but no indication of romantic interest in the actual episode.

Probability: 0%

s1e15 - Give Me Liberty... Or Give Me Death

Bonnie - He tries to ask her out, but she's busy spending the night with KITT. :D She also doesn't seem very impressed with his Liberty drama.

Probability: 0%

Liberty Cox - When she shows up in his room, he seems a lot less interested in her than she is in him, but he doesn't exactly fight her off when she starts kissing him. He tells KITT he went to bed and she went back to her room, but she's sure more pissed about not getting to ride along with him the next day than you'd think she'd be if all they'd done was smooch. Also she's back at FLAG HQ at the end so maybe she's spending some time in town.

Probability: 90%

Dorothy Ackridge - He tries to be flirtatious but she has no time for his shenanigans. she's grateful when he saves her life but doesn't express any romantic interest in him.

Probability: 0%

s1e16 - The Topaz Connection

Lauren Royce - She takes half the episode to warm up to him but they have fun in Vegas. "You do the cake, I'll do the champagne, and we'll see what else comes to mind." "Deal." Things look like they might be headed in a steamy direction as evidenced by the romantic music playing but they get cockblocked by Bob. They smooch before she gets on the bogus plane. In the last scene they kiss some more and she tells him they have some unfinished business.

Probability: 95%

s1e17 - A Nice, Indecent Little Town

KITT: Michael is... indisposed. Devon: Oh. That means he's either with a young lady or in jail.

Jobina - He's definitely turning on the charm. She helps Michael escape from jail (with KITT's assistance). "Is there anything this car can't do?" "I think a woman would be a better judge of that." "I beg your pardon?" I don't even know what that's supposed to mean but I want to believe it's something saucy. Not actually much indication onscreen that anything happened but in the last scene Michael says he hopes Jobina will stay in town and Bonnie asks if that's so he'll know where to find her. Michael responds, "Yeah, that's a thought." Possibilities here.

Probability: 50%

s1e18 - Chariot of Gold

Dr. Charlene Litton - He chats her up at the party, but it's in the line of duty. She's kind of condescending to him. She does break away from the creepy IQ cult and help Michael foil their plans, but isn't seen again.

Probability: 0%

Bonnie - They do their usual UST thing, and dance at the party until Devon cuts in. He's extremely protective of her. He talks her out of her brainwashing by telling her "We're a team, we love each other." He makes her breakfast and brings her a rose at the end. Still, no overt indication that anything beyond camaraderie happens.

Probability: 0%

s1e19 - White Bird

Stevie - Presumably they've gotten it on in the past but there was too much going on in this episode for anything to happen. Also presumably Wilton didn't do any renovations below Michael's neck so if they'd gotten it on she would have known with 100% certainty who he was.

Probability: 95% (as ML) 5% (as MK)

s1e20 - Knight Moves

Terri - He asks her to go dancing. She turns him down but finds him likable/trustworthy enough to let him give her a lift home. They seem to be bonding but when he goes in for a kiss she says goodnight and goes in the house (alone). His little smile afterwards suggests he's up for the challenge. After he saves her life and her other driver threatens to quit she tells him she really likes him and hugs her but doesn't push it further than that. She tells him the next day that it was the first time she ever wanted to kiss a man (but that she had before anyway D: ). At the end they do go dancing (and she puts on a dress because heaven forbid a tough woman should ever fail to embrace conventional femininity immediately upon being found attractive by any halfway decent dude) and it's a reasonable assumption that they did more than just *dance* until dawn. I kind of want to roast Michael a little for not being more aghast about the fact that she's kissed dudes she didn't really want to and for encouraging her to give up her Tomboy Terri persona but it was a less enlightened era and at least he didn't hit on her when she was vulnerable which is more than a lot of dudes of his time (or this one, for that matter) would have done so I'll cut him some slack.

Probability: 90%

s1e21 - Nobody Does It Better

Connie - He's checking her out on the tennis court but (spoiler alert) she gets murdered.

Probability: 0%

Flannery Roe - Things are off to a rocky start. She seems to take his "do you like to play?" at the club as a come on, pulls a gun on him (not entirely unjustifiably) when he corners her in the cul-de-sac and has him arrested on suspicion of being a stalker and/or rapist. She warms up to him a bit after he provides a comforting hug when she finds Connie's body but still gets a little shirty with him at the restaurant and turns down his offer of a ride home. She's antagonistic toward him when they meet again at the club. He saves her from the bad guys and for some reason she's back at the Foundation HQ at the end but they don't do any huggy-kissy stuff so odds are minimal.

Probability: 1%

s1e22 - Short Notice

K: Since you haven't asked, I'll tell you. It was demoralizing, demeaning. M: What? K: Police impound. M: Oh. You had me worried there for a minute.

Nicole - She keeps him at arm's length initially (understandably since she's hitching). Turns out she's another single mom, so her main preoccupation is getting her kid back, and she doesn't really care if she dicks Michael over in the process. He does get along well with her kid when they find her so that probably gets him a few points in her eyes. They hold hands after he beats all the bad guys in the western town and hug at the end but don't kiss. She's probably looking for a new dad for Natalie. He tells Natalie he hopes they'll see him again but nothing conclusive.

Probability: 10%

s2e01/02 - Goliath

Rita Wilcox - Another one where there was possible interest but probably wasn't time for anything to happen. She spends half the episode either pissed off at him or faking a relationship with Garthe, and then they're busy trying to take out Goliath. They hug after Garthe and Goliath are out of commission but don't kiss. At the end she's on her way out of town. It's unclear how much time has passed between that and the last scene but when she implies he should look her up if he's in LA, he doesn't mention that the Foundation's home base is in SoCal (or so it appears)? I don't think he's the type who wouldn't go for a woman he was interested in just because she'd hooked up with his evil twin (even if he was a little judgy when he found out she was shacking up with Garthe again), so maybe he's just not that into her.

Probability: 25%

s2e03 - Brother's Keeper

Lisa - Things aren't exactly off to a great start when he kidnaps her. She warms up to him a little by the end and they give each other a fairly chaste goodbye smooch. He says they'll see each other again and she says she hopes so. Maybe?

Probability: 30%

April: He's on a kidnapping spree and drags her to the beach at the end. Still, no real indicator that anything romantic is going to ensue.

Probability: 5%

s2e04 - Merchants of Death

Camela - They seem to keep it professional except for a goodbye kiss. Not even a "We'll see each other again." Odds are minimal.

Probability: 5%

s2e05 - Blind Spot

Julie - She's in some kind of platonic lifemate relationship with John, which may end up being more than platonic thanks to Michael's yenta-ing.

Probability: 0%

s2e06 - Return to Cadiz

Jennifer Shell - They have dinner together and she seems to open up to him but it isn't overtly romantic. They have a spat but hug and make up when he finds the secret treasure cave. She kisses him after he rescues her from the bad guys. An undisclosed amount of time has passed before they have dinner and he heads out but they do the "Will I see you again?/count on it" thing before she kisses him goodbye. It's possible, maybe even likely.

Probability: 50%

s2e07 - KITT the Cat

Grace - She's definitely flirting with him when she invites him to the party. And then tries to convince him she's not the burglar by making out with him. At the end he kisses her goodbye pretty interestedly while promising to keep a closer eye on her. Odds are good.

Probability: 85%

s2e08 - Custom KITT

Suzanne Weston - She's pretty overt about her interest in him, but when she shows up in his room he seems relieved when KITT beeps him on the comlink. She tells him he knows where to find her if he's ever in the mood for something other than "good, clean" fun, so by implication he hasn't been.

Probability: 0%

Carrie - She's into him enough to get jealous when she thinks he hooked up with Suzanne. "If our plan works and the thief tries to steal KITT tonight, you can thank me." She kisses him first, but then he kisses her and tells her that's "very close" to his way of wanting to be thanked. The implications aren't particularly subtle. They enthusiastically hug after catching the bad guys. When she wins the car show, they smooch with more "I don't know how to thank you... but I'm sure I'll think of a way" innuendo. He tells her he'll see her later, and I think it's a strong possibility that he will.

Probability: 90%

s2e09 - Soul Survivor

M: Devon, I felt something in here... I don't know, a presence... KITT's presence.

K: Oh Michael, do I look just dreadful? Be honest. M: KITT, what matters to me is who you are, not what you look like. Sure we don't have the car. So we can't turbo boost. So we can't go over 200 miles an hour. It was all icing on the cake anyway. It wasn't you. K: It wasn't? M: No, the car was fantastic but if you break it down it was steel, rubber and glass. We can always make another one. But you, you are a lot more than silicon chips and fancy circuitry, You're my buddy. You're my partner. KITT, you're one of a kind. K: Thank you, Michael. The feeling's mutual.

K: What was it like, Michael? M: What, KITT? K: Seeing my body functioning without me? Or you? M: A little spooky, let me tell ya. K: Did it seem like me? M: Yeah, it did and it didn't. It looked like you, but somehow it just wasn't the same. K: I don't understand. M: It didn't have your soul, KITT. Without that, it could never be the same. K: Thank you, Michael.

Adrianne - She techno-roofies him and the way Randy sticks his head in the door and then guiltily ducks back out as she's leaning over him on the couch kind of suggests he's walking in on something he knows he shouldn't see. Still, Michael appears to be fully clothed when he wakes up in a ditch. Adrianne is totally a creepy douchebag and/or rapist (as we will see more of in Goliath Returns) but she was probably too preoccupied with stealing KITT to do anything in this ep.

Probability: 20%

s2e10 - Ring of Fire

(This is one of two eps where Michael utters the phrase "come on, baby" to KITT while trying to get out of a jam. Obviously NBC's censors had to ruin our fun because it never happens again after this season.)

Layla - She's still married. Doesn't really express romantic interest in Michael and the hero of an 80s family hour tv series probably wouldn't have gotten it on with a married woman no matter how much of an abusive dick her husband was. They do kiss goodbye at the end and he tells her if she ever decides to leave the bayou, she knows where he'll be. If anything ever happens, it's probably in the distant future.

Probability: 5%

s2e11 - Knightmares

M: Whoa, you are hot! K: Quite true, Michael.

Cara - She tries to look out for him after he gets amnesia, but not a lot of indication that she's romantically interested in him, and he's too busy trying to figure out wtf is going on to hit on her. They hug after he rescues her from drowning but we don't see any more of them together.

Probability: 5%

s2e12 - Silent Knight

Marta - No real indication of romantic interest on either side. We don't see what they're doing as Tino is saying goodbye to KITT but considering he offered her a handshake and not a kiss or even a hug, it's probably safe to say nothing happened.

Probability: 0%

s2e13 - A Knight in Shining Armor

Katherine - She's a little young for him (Michael tells her the treasure was supposed to be her 21st birthday present so presumably she's legal but the fact that she's still in prep school makes her seem younger). Also this is another episode where he begins their acquaintance by first rescuing, then kidnapping the female lead. They don't particularly like each other at first, but hug after his "if nobody can hurt you, then nobody can love you" chat with her, again after he rescues her from the bad guy (again) and after escaping the cave collapse. It seems more friendly than romantic, though.He takes her hand in the cave but it comes off more as sharing a moment than a romantic overture. They kiss at the end but he tells her goodbye and leaves. No indication that they're going to see each other again.

Probability: 5%

s2e14 - Diamonds Aren't A Girl's Best Friend

Lauren - She makes out with him when he first shows up as part of her cover story and he clearly doesn't mind. He's pretty committed to maintaining their cover in subsequent scenes. In the last scene she tells him she'd like "to do it for real" but she's pretty clearly referring to kissing, not *it*. By implication they haven't done more than kiss at this point but when she asks if she'll see him again, he tells her "unless you change her name and move to Okinawa." Future potential.

Probability: 50%

Lauren's boss - She's kind of flirtatious with him when they first meet but no indicator that anything happens.

Probability: 0%

s2e15 - White Line Warriors

Cindy - She's with Ron, who is apparently pretty understanding since he doesn't seem to object to her giving Michael a thank-you kiss at the end.

Probability: 0%

s2e16 - Race For Life

April - He's emotionally supportive and her niece has been introduced to Michael and KITT but no significant indications of anything romantic.

Probability: 0%

s2e17 - Speed Demons

Sabrina - He comes to her rescue when Wade is harassing her at the party, They hug after she talks to him about Kelly. They give each other a chaste goodbye kiss but no real indication of romantic interest.

Probability: 0%

s2318/19 - Goliath Returns

Adrianne - This one gets an asterisk, because whatever happened in Garthe's creepy dungeon after the cutaway to a scandalized KITT didn't look consensual on Michael's side. She pretty obviously went down to there to sleep with him, and the way she staggers out in her bathrobe the next morning while Garthe bitches about how she slept in pretty strongly implies that she actually did, but Michael really seems the opposite of into her and her basically telling him "please me [in bed] and maybe I'll make sure my psycho boyfriend doesn't murder you" is rape by coercion if not by force. Did he grit his teeth and do it just to hedge his bets? Maybe.

Probability: 80%*

s20 - A Good Knight's Work

Gina - He's obviously interested and kisses her before he goes to MMM, but (spoiler alert) she's playing him. Except maybe she's not so bad because she lets him talk her out of shooting him and then they hug. They kiss goodbye at the end but she's going into witness protection and there isn't really any indication that they'll see each other again or that anything romantic transpired.

Probability: 10%

s2e21/22 - Mouth of the Snake

Joanna - She was more interested in Dalton. I deeply want to believe Dalton's invitation to Michael to hang out with them at the end was really an invitation to join them for a threesome because it's the only thing that would make this episode interesting, but Michael takes a rain check and heads out of town.

Probability: 0%

s2e23 - Let It Be Me

Stevie - She's still pretty broken up about her boyfriend's death. He kisses her when they go back to her apartment and she tells him she still dreams about him. The next scene they're wearing different clothes and seemingly some time has passed so maybe something happened after the cutaway?

Probability: 50%

s2e24 - Big Iron

Lucy - She was the woman who was coming out of the hotel room at the beginning. He seemed to be checking her out in that scene but obviously he's not going for a married woman even if she didn't have some other drama going on.

Probability: 0%

s3e01/02 - Knight of the Drones

Bonnie - They hug when he shows up at the university and he makes the "You can sail with me anytime" comment to her at the marina at the end and they link arms to walk to the boat, but not really anything more romantic than that.

Probability: 0%

Margo - She fakes romantic interest in him and he plays along, but (spoiler alert) she's setting him up to be murdered.

Probability: 0%

s3e03 - The Ice Bandits

Bonnie - They walk arm-in-arm into the diamond place, but Michael was making innuendoes about other women when she was sitting right next to him in the car 30 seconds previously so probably nothing really going on.

Probability: 5%

Jody - She's engaged to Charlie. Michael tells Charlie "She's not the one I'm interested in, it's *you*," with his standard flirtatious grin and god, that's hot. Spoiler alert: Charlie is a crook. Even after she finds out the truth she doesn't really express romantic interest in Michael although she does paint his portrait.

Probability: 5%

s3e04 - Knights of the Fast Lane

Diane - He's too preoccupied with Stacy's case to flirt. She hugs him after he rescues her but we don't see them together again.

Probability: 5%

The random cheerleader - She seems interested, but we don't see them together again either.

Probability: 5%

s3e05 - Halloween Knight

Bonnie - He's very protective. Tinhats would probably make something of the fact that her costume is Scarlett O'Hara and his is Rhett Butler. Still, nothing too overtly romantic.

Probability: 5%

Esmerelda - She'd probably put a love spell on him in a hot minute but I think he finds her a little terrifying.

Probability: 5%

Denise - She's friendly but not overly flirtatious. Also she gets murdered before anything can happen.

Probability: 0%

s3e06 - KITT vs. KARR

Mandy - She's with John. No indicators that they're interested in a threesome.

Probability: 0%

s3e07 - The Rotten Apples

Marilyn - They're hardcore flirting and she says she hopes to see him again. They kiss after he wins the mechanical bull contest, but then she catches a bus out of town. She kisses him goodbye and he does this "oh yeah, I still got it" move but we don't get any strong evidence that anything else happened.

Probability: 10%

Rebecca - Not a lot of flirtation, and the kids are always around cockblocking.

Probability: 10%

s3e08 - Knight in Disgrace

(I was almost too distracted by KITT and Michael in this ep to pay attention to the GOTW, lol. KITT's hurt confusion when Michael leaves and him being a total bitch to Michael's would-be replacement and the way he goes with Michael even when he thinks he's on the wrong side of the law, I'm *dying* here...)

Linda - She comes onto him and roofies him at the bar and he wakes up with his shirt undone, but she's Boyd's girlfriend and (spoiler alert) another hapless single mom so she probably didn't do anything untoward, assuming he was even conscious enough by the time she got him home. After she gets to know and trust him she doesn't make any moves on him and they don't smooch or anything at the end.

Probability: 5%

s3e09 - Dead of Knight

Cindy - It's not entirely clear what their relationship is. At the beginning it looks more like he's trying to pick up on her than they're actually dating. He's obviously really invested in helping her but he'd undoubtedly do the same for anybody who was in mortal peril because of him. At the end in the ambulance he calls her "baby" and says they have a date. In the last scene Cindy is leaving for Broadway soon but they're all together at the Foundation and it's unclear how much time has elapsed. Not conclusive but suggestive.

Probability: 50%

Renard's girlfriend - She's putting the moves on him while he's feverish and loopy and somehow his shirt has gotten unbuttoned but there's a guard in the room so probably nothing happened.

Probability: 10%

s3e10 - Lost Knight

"If I may be so bold, what on earth were you *doing* down there?"

(LBR, Michael is too busy angsting about KITT to try and get laid in this ep.)

Doug's mom - In a relationship, although at the end she decides to break things off with her boyfriend so she can focus more on her son. She and Michael kiss goodbye but it's improbable that there's anything more than that since she just said she doesn't need another man around right now.

Probability: 0%

s3e11 - Knight of the Chameleon

Tonie Baxter - They seem to know each other from a previous case. He kisses her on the forehead at the end of their first scene. They don't really seem to interact romantically during this episode. Michael gets distracted by KITT's contest winnings before they have a chance for a goodbye kiss.

Probability: 10%

s3e12 - Custom Made Killer

Unnamed Dancer (offscreen) - Devon: "You've been rather difficult to reach lately. Particularly last night." Michael: "I got a weakness for dancers." HIs protest that they're "innocent girls working their way through college" leaves little doubt about what kind of dancer this was.

Probability: 95%

Joan - No evidence of romantic interest. Also (spoiler alert) she's collaborating with the bad guys.

Probability: 0%

Debra - He flirts at the end and she kisses him goodbye. Lewis says "He'll be back" and she gives a suggestive eyebrow raise. Possible but not conclusive.

Probability: 25%

s3e13 - Knight By A Nose

M: KITT, how close are you? It's getting stuffy in here. K: Any closer and I'll have to marry this limo.

Maxine - They hug and he calls her "sweetheart" when he shows up. Devon accuses Michael of being biased because Max is attractive but he describes her as "a very, very close friend." Yet we never actually see them kiss. Maybe they really are just friends?

Probability: 25%

s3e14 - Junkyard Dog

Fran - He's too preoccupied with KITT to do much flirting for most of the episode, but they're having a picnic/makeout session together in the semi, seemingly alone, at the end. It's a reasonable assumption that things escalated at some point, even if they didn't want a scandalized KITT watching and commenting at that particular moment.

Probability: 80%

s3e15 - Buy Out

Mel - They keep it professional for most of the ep but after he catches the bad guy he tells her she's attractive without her welding mask and they kiss. We don't see them together again but it's possible that more happened.

Probability: 50%

s3e16 - Knightlines

Janet Morgan - She's recently widowed and not in the market yet. No romantic interaction.

Probability: 0%

s3e17 - The Nineteenth Hole

Daisy: Is that thing blown? KITT: I beg your pardon?

Jamie - After they fake being married at the hotel she kisses him before the race. Not a lot of other romantic interaction but he and Bonnie and Devon do seem to be sticking around to watch the race so something could happen.

Probability: 50%

Daisy - He flirts with her a little at the meetup but no indication that it goes beyond that.

Probability: 0%

s3e18 - Knight and Knerd

Allie - She rides off into the sunset with Elliot.

Probability: 0%

Receptionist at Gifford's - He flirts but no indication that it goes anywhere.

Probability: 0%

Vanessa Sutton - Apparently he gives a really good massage but she's (understandably) pissed off that he wasn't who she was expecting the massage from. Also she's a villain and is too busy setting him up to get murdered for anything to happen.

Probability: 0%

s3e19 - Ten Wheel Trouble

M: Hey, are you hungry back there, partner? K: Perhaps a little lonely, Michael. But rather enjoying my independence.

Sally - He turns on the charm when they first meet but things go south rapidly when he talks her brother into going to jail. By the end he's back in her good graces and she likes him enough to steal a kiss from him before he says goodbye. You know her hormonal teenage brain is thinking about it but for reasons that should be obvious, he isn't going there.

Probability: 0%

s3e20 - Knight In Retreat

KITT: Of course, there is one other possibility. Devon: What is that? KITT: The lady of the retreat. She's quite attractive. Of course, knowing Michael the way I do, it would strictly be in the line of duty.

Bianca - She seems to find him physically attractive, and maybe if she hadn't been so busy torturing him she would have tried to have a little fun with him. But considering what he suspects her of, he probably wouldn't have gone too far unless he absolutely had to.

Probability: 0%

Monica - She flirts with him at the bar and comments on what a waste it is to kill him, but nothing is likely to have happened due to both time constraints and her being Bianca's henchwoman.

Probability: 0%

s3e21 - Knight Strike

Sheila - She acts jealous when he makes the date with Tyler but he seems more exasperated than romantically interested in her. They kiss before he goes into the warehouse but it's fairly short and chaste. At the end, she goes off with O'Malley.

Probability: 0%

Tyler - She makes a date with him at the gun range but it's just a distraction. He flirts with her but it's all in the line of duty.

Probability: 0%

s3e22 - Circus Knights

Bonnie: I have to admit, Devon, he looks fantastic. Devon: Yes, in spite of that ridiculous costume he's wearing. Bonnie: No, I'm talking about KITT!

Terri - They keep things professional at first, although when they're in the car together she asks if circus-folk camaraderie is the only reason he's interested in helping her. He says he's be lying if he said yes and presumably she reads it as him being interested romantically. After his near-murder in the ring they have a heart-to-heart talk and kiss. At the end he tells her to call him if she needs anything. *Anything?* Hmmm...

Probability: 50%

Tiger - She hits on him but he's not into it.

Probability: 0%

s4e01/02 - Knight of the Juggernaut

K: I'm asking you how I look. M: You look great, same as always!

Marta - They have some chemistry in their first meeting. He asks her out when they get back to her apartment. But (spoiler alert) she's part of the conspiracy to steal the cernium and sets him up to get murdered (twice). He cools it on the flirting after the first incident (understandably, since if he takes her story at face value she was assaulted and possibly worse) although he still acts protective of her. After she helps them get the bad guys she's hanging out with the Foundation crew at the end but we don't see any more romantic interaction.

Probability: 25%

Jennifer - No overtly romantic interaction. They're antagonistic for most of the episode although they make up at the end.

Probability: 0%

s4e03 - KITTnap

Karen - She's doing her doctoral thesis on KITT and spending a lot of time with Michael in the progress. Judging by the way they're holding hands in their first scene and then making out at her apartment, there's obvious romantic interest. And she clearly has more than academic interest even after (spoiler alert) she gets held hostage by the bad guys so it's a reasonable assumption that if they weren't already banging they're going to at some point.

Probability: 95%

s4e04 - Sky Knight

Bonnie - He's pretty touchy-feely at the airport and they hug after saving the day but no overt romance.

Probability: 5%

s4e05 - Burial Ground

Susan - They keep it professional for most of the episode. He tries to hit on her at the end but she's in a relationship with Eagle. That doesn't stop her from giving him a goodbye kiss but no indicator that it goes any further than that.

Probability: 0%

s4e06 - The Wrong Crowd

Ann - She spends most of the episode being menaced and/or held hostage by the bikers and we don't really see them interact with each other in a non-case-related way.

Probability: 0%

RC - Michael is very tenderly concerned when he finds him knocked out by the side of the road. But probably neither of them swing that way.

Probability: 0%

s4e07 - Knight Sting

Gaye - She seems young. And also kind of annoying. He hugs her in the hospital but it doesn't look particularly romantic. No evidence of interest on either side.

Probability: 0%

Bonnie - He flirts with her when they're planning the operation and she shows him her dress. The rest of the episode they're too busy with the mission for any shenanigans.

Probability: 0%

RC - He's clearly been raiding Michael's closet for that sweater. But Michael is cool with it. No overt indication that they're more than bros, though.

Probability: 0%

s4e08 - Many Happy Returns

Amy - He's flirting up a storm but whoops, Devon is cockblocking and she's actually there with a mission for him. However, it's not all business and she surprises him with a birthday cupcake and some birthday smoochin', until duty calls again. She makes some innuendo about "getting to adolescence and maturity later" as he's leaving so she's obviously willing to take a rain check. She's back in the semi with them at the end and Michael invites her on vacation with him. We don't see her answer but it's a safe bet it's a yes.

Probability: 95%

s4e09 - Knight Racer

Elena - At first it's all business but they seem to be having fun dancing at the reception. They have a heart-to-heart talk in the parking lot until the hit man shows up. They hug after the big reveal about Elena's dad and the fight with Wayne's partner but don't kiss. Maybe Michael would think twice about getting involved with a friend of Bonnie's.

Probability: 10%

Unnamed track bunnies - Michael says it wasn't easy ignoring all those trophy queens and their phone numbers, implying that he did indeed ignore them (maybe more because he had to get back to the office than out of disinterest).

Probability: 0%

s4e10 - Knight Behind Bars

Julie - He agrees with KITT that she's cute, but they don't really express romantic interest to each other beyond a hug after he tosses Nelson into the ocean. Also at 20 she's a little young for him.

Probability: 0%

Gymnastics instructor - She flirtatiously tells him she's free the rest of the day, but he isn't. No indication that they see each other again.

Probability: 0%

s4e11 - Knight Song

Bonnie and/or RC - They're all playing hookie together and conspiring to keep it from Devon. Shenanigans?

Probability: 5%

Sanford - No indication of romantic interest, also she's a villain.

Probability: 0%

s4e12 - The Scent of Roses

K: I'm sorry, they don't allow cars in hospitals. I would have been closer. M: I know you would.

Stevie - They appear to have been staying at the beach house together so it's a safe bet, even if (spoiler alert) they never got to consummate their marriage.

Probability: 95%

s4e13 - Killer KITT

"Not now, Michael. I have a headache."

Bronwen - She and Michael barely interact, plus she's probably Berio's girlfriend.

Probability: 0%

s4e14 - Out of the Woods

Sam - He's flirtatious when they first get reacquainted but too busy working on the case for anything to happen before it's revealed that (spoiler alert) she's a villain. He does hug her when she surrenders at the end but I assume that trying to murder him is a dealbreaker.

Probability: 0%

Ellen - No real evidence of romantic interest and she says goodbye with a handshake rather than a kiss.

Probability: 0%

s4e15 - Deadly Knightshade

Bonnie - She's more preoccupied with Templeton. He does give her a swan in his magic act at the end.

Probability: 0%

Nancy - He's too busy with the investigation to even do much flirting.

Probability: 0%

s4e16 - Redemption of a Champion

Miss Cooper - Michael obviously has a hot date that most likely would have ended with some lovin' if he hadn't once again been cockblocked by KITT and Devon. At the end, Michael is dressed up for Date Night, Take 2, but gets called back to the semi again. Does she give him a third chance? I mean, *I* would...

Probability: 50%

Nurse Tremount - He flirts with her to get info and comforts her after she breaks down and confesses to the scam but no indication that it goes further than that. Plus she’s in an adulterous relationship with the villainous doctor.

Probability: 0%

s4e17 - Knight of A Thousand Devils

Claudia Terrell - She's a villain. When she makes a pseudo-date with him it's just to set him up.

Probability: 0%

Agent Jonas - They bet dinner on the arrest and Michael seems to be taking his death extremely personally. Juggernaut slash ships have been built on less. If he were a chick I'd say "extremely probable" except for the fact that Jonas was married with kids. Not that it stops some people, but it would most likely stop Michael.

Probability: 0%

"Ana-Lucia" - She keeps him up all night working on her car and he says he's going to come back after the race is over and demand equal time. Her response: "You won't have to demand." Plot twist: She's actually a Federale. We don't see her again after they apprehend the bad guy so it's questionable whether their flirtation was still valid for her real identity.

Probability: 10%

s4e18 - Hills of Fire

Sandra Rusk - Barely any interaction and also she's a villain.

Probability: 0%

Tess Hubbard: No significant romantic interaction. Probably too busy with her charitable work to go chasing after pretty-boys.

Probability: 0%

s4e19 - Knight Flight to Freedom

Lisa - Too busy dealing with a revolution for any shenanigans.

Probability: 0%

s4e20 - Fright Night

Karen - They keep things mostly professional but she buys him lunch at the end. No real indicator that it ends in anything romantic, though.

Probability: 5%

Liz - They flirt a little when he interviews her ("I appreciate your interest." "I'm interested!") but it doesn't really go anywhere.

Probability: 5%

s4e21 - Knight of the Rising Sun

N/A - No female guest characters and nothing particularly shippy with Bonnie.

Probability: 0%

s4e22 - Voo Doo Knight

Harana - She's a little flirtatious at the party. When she puts one of her zombifying earrings on him, she gets a little touchy-feely and tells him they could have had a future together but there are two of her goons in the room and she's sending him to the soon-to-be-demolished building so she probably doesn't have time to take advantage of him even if she wanted to do it with an audience.

Probability: 0%

Elizabeth - Michael nudges Devon into letting her stay an extra few days, and she seems pretty good with that. We don't see them kiss but they're engaged in a pretty intense hug at the end.

Probability: 90%

...at least he got to go out with a bang?

#knight rider #is srs bsns #long post #this was a much better use for my time #than my hamfisted car repair #and less likely to result in death by misadventure #than trying to clean the gutters

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