#NOBODY WAS HAVING SEX ON THAT DAMN METEOR

[sneetsnootyoit]

Hate to Love You

Chapter 1

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI) Canon-typical violence, rough sex, sort of enemies to lovers, some humiliation, face-slapping, Jack Daniels is a switch, smut obviously, oral sex, face sitting, hair pulling, dirty talk, you two get snowed in, reader has chronic pain and uses marijuana byproducts, multiple orgasms, degradation, praise kink, begging, P in V sex, NO USE ON Y/N

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: I have been working on this fic for so long and if nobody likes it I might actually cry

Tag list: @str84pedro @ariundercovers @ezras--moon

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When you joined the Statesmen, your goal was to live up to your mother’s legacy. She was known as ‘Agent Bourbon,’ and she was one of the best they had. When you were growing up, she taught you everything you’d need to know to be an agent under the guise of ‘self defense,  because the world was a dangerous place. When she started teaching you how to use weapons, your suspicions began, and because she had taught you so well, it didn’t take you very long to discover the true nature of the distillery she worked for.

When you confronted her, instead of being angry with you for spying on her, she was incredibly proud, because it told her that you knew how to utilize the skills she taught you. She was completely transparent with you, but had you swear that you would keep the secret, and in return, she would teach you to be an agent. As soon as you were old enough, she convinced Champ to bring you in as a junior agent. You worked as a surveillance agent and they called you ‘Tonic.’ You hated it, because it meant you wouldn’t be working in the field. Your mother promised you that you would get the chance to be a field agent when you got older, and she was right, but unfortunately, she wasn’t there when you finally became one.

When you became a field agent, your name went from being ‘Tonic’ to ‘Bourbon.’ You were working from the Kentucky office while your mother was in the field on the day she died. For the longest time, you blamed yourself, claiming that you were the cause of her death. It took almost three years to be convinced that it was something completely out of your control. When it happened, almost everyone came to offer their condolences, although most seemed to be simple formalities, there were a few that seemed genuine.

A year after your mother’s death, you asked Champ to transfer you. Home office had too many memories, and you needed a fresh start. You packed up the house and sold it, buying a place in New York with the money from the house and the money you made at Statesmen. Champ sent agents to help you move, and they helped you get your new place set up. It was a decent-sized condo with a wonderful view of the city. 

That was the start of your new life, and you were ready to work hard to become just as amazing as your mother. At first, Agent Whiskey refused to let you go on field missions, but when Champ chewed him out, he had to start sending you out. It didn’t take long for him to realize that your mother trained you well, and you were a force to be reckoned with. It started off fine, but over the years, you began to grow weary of him. He was the most annoying thing in the world to you. The two of you would be in the middle of a mission, and he’d be flirting with you through your comms. At first, it was charming and it made you feel giddy inside, but when you realized that it wasn’t just you he was constantly flirting with, you grew tired. Aside from the flirting, he was a damn good agent. He’d flip between telling you how pretty your eyes were and how well he’d treat you if you gave him a chance and slicing people in half with his electric lasso, back to back with you while you shattered someone’s skull with your meteor hammer.

It continued like that for years, and got to the point when annoyance became hatred. You despised working with him, and you often told people you would rather chew off your own foot than choose to be on a mission with Whiskey. And yet Champ kept sending you on missions with him. You had to remain professional and tolerate him while you were working together, but as soon as the mission was over, you kept your distance, and when he bothered you, you regularly told him to eat shit. You weren’t sure when you fell for him, but when you realized you had, you decided to mask it with an extra dose of ‘I hate you,’ and you made sure he was well aware of just how much you hated him. The more you expressed your hate, the more determined his flirting became, and it was a vicious cycle of hate and flirting between the two of you.

That was how you ended up in what you considered to be in both the best and worst predicament you’d ever been in.

You and Agent Whiskey were out on a mission up in the mountains. You were infiltrating a facility that had sensitive information they’d stolen from the Statesmen. Your job was to eliminate the threat and get the files returned to Champ’s office, erasing the rest. It was going just fine at first. You’d cleared your path to the main control room and you were in the process of getting all the files downloaded and erased while Whiskey was taking out the remaining targets (although you told him to wait until you were finished so you could go together) when Ginger Ale alerted you that he was in trouble. She showed you the feed from his glasses and you audibly groaned.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Whiskey?!” You exclaimed, slamming your fist onto the console.

“It’s not my fault these fuckers ambushed me, sugar,” he replied, his usual arrogance very present in his tone. He was trying very hard not to sound bothered by the situation he'd gotten himself in.

“See, to me, it looks like you don’t need any help-”

“Because I don’t! I told Ginger to call you and tell you that you looked good in that snowsuit.”

You groaned again and shook your head. “One, shut the fuck up, you fucking pig. Two, your feed absolutely tells me otherwise!” You yelled, looking at the computer to see how close you were to being done with transferring and wiping the files. They were almost done, and you sighed. “Can you manage to stay alive for maybe five more minutes?”

You didn’t get an answer, and you were concerned for only a moment because a couple minutes after you asked that question, the door behind you burst open, and there was Whiskey with a trail of gunfire behind him. 

“You fuck!” You screamed, ducking down to avoid getting shot while you pulled your gun from your bag. You pressed yourself against the wall while you loaded the magazine into the weapon, before peeking around the doorframe, taking aim and shooting different targets. You watched them fall one-by-one while Whiskey used his lasso on those you weren’t taking out (he’d apparently run out of ammo). Ginger wasn’t joking when she said he was in trouble, and Whiskey wasn’t joking when he said he was ambushed. When the last person you could see was cut in half, you lowered your weapon and breathed out, scanning the hallway for movement while listening for footsteps. Whiskey opened his mouth to speak and you punched him in the face, glaring at him with a ‘shut the fuck up’ look.

You didn’t hear any movement, so you quietly made your way back to the computer. You watched the 99% become 100%, then you took the hard drive and stuck it in one of your pockets. Even though the computer had been completely wiped, you were told not to leave any risk for recovery, so you used the weight of your meteor hammer to smash open the main panel and you began to place the explosive charges Ginger had given to you inside the console. 

While you were angrily working, Whiskey was still standing in the same spot he was in when you punched him, flabbergasted (and a little turned on). You’d never actually hit him before. You always threatened, but never actually did it. What he was going to tell you was that on his way back to you, he’d trailed his own charges throughout the building and they were on a timer. When he saw you placing yours, it reminded him that he had something important to tell you, but first he gathered what little equipment you brought and he grabbed your arm once you’d finished. “We have to get out of here! The place is gonna blow any second!” He whispered to you, making your face go white.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that?!” 

“You punched me before I could!”

“Yeah, because I was listening for footsteps! You could’ve told me when you saw me- fucking nevermind,” you huffed, running through the hallways with your weapons at the ready, Agent Whiskey in tow.

The two of you barely made it out before the whole place exploded behind you, taking your escape vehicle with it, and you ended up getting knocked down into the snow. As soon as you were able to get your bearings, you noticed the clouds in the sky. “Fucking hell…great! Just fucking great! Ginger, find me a cabin or a building as close as fucking possible. Based on the way the sky is looking, we’re in for a fucking blizzard and I’ll be damned if I die in the snow.”

Whiskey stared at you, astonished and enamored, not really listening to what Ginger had to say as he followed you. He wasn’t paying attention to anything other than you. He was admiring your beauty and skill, trying his best not to get an erection when the memory of you punching him in the face crossed his mind. Fuck, that was hot, he thought, trying to even out his labored breaths.

You were following Ginger’s directions to an abandoned cabin that belonged to a dead man, walking as fast as you could through the snow so you could find shelter before the blizzard started. Luckily for the two of you, when you arrived, it was evident that the man had recently died, because the cabin still had furniture and firewood. You made Whiskey bring the firewood inside while you continued to talk to Ginger about when you’d be able to be extracted. She told you that by the time they got an extraction team out there, the blizzard would have most likely begun by then, so you and Whiskey had to wait out the blizzard and stay in the cabin until it was safe for the extraction team to come get you. While you talked to Ginger, Whiskey worked on getting a fire started, that way there would at least have some heat in the cabin. You told Ginger you were going to try and get some rest before you took your glasses off and tucked them away somewhere safe, and Whiskey did the same.

“You know, this would be a great time for-”

“Don’t you ever shut up?!” You snapped, glaring at him.

He looked surprised for just a second before his signature smirk appeared on his face and he chuckled. “You’ll have to make me, darlin’. I’m not-”

“Shut the fuck up! For fuck’s sake! You could’ve gotten both of us killed! What were you thinking, bringing those guys back to me? Your job was to-”

“Take a breath, sugar. It’s okay, we’ve got plenty of time to-”

“Stop!” You exclaimed, looking at him with a fury that he’d never seen before burning in your eyes. “Just fucking stop! Shit! It’s not okay! What the fuck is wrong with you? When I started working for Statesmen with my Mom, I thought you were some cool, cute, older guy that worked with her, and I was going to be able to work alongside you and be just as amazing as she was! And then I start actually working with you and all you do is fucking flirt!”

He was taken aback by your outburst, and you were fully expecting him to apologize, or at least stop acting like an idiot, but you were very wrong. “You thought I was cool? And cute?”

“What the f- That’s what you take away from that?! For fuck’s sake! This is why I fucking hate you!”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“Wh- really? You really don’t know why?! You don’t take anything seriously when we work together, and you’re always fucking flirting! You walk around with this arrogant ‘I can do anything’ look, and you act all suave, and you look at me with that smug fucking smile and your stupid eyes looking at me like I’m everything you’ve ever fucking dreamed of. You act serious every so often and then you’re out making sexual innuendos at me and at Ginger and you’re just a stupid fucking whore! Or at least that’s what you fucking act like.” 

By the end of your rant, you were panting and trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest from the rush of adrenaline you’d just received. Whiskey slowly approached you and stood in front of you with that exact smug grin on his face that you were complaining about. “Did that make you feel better, darlin’?”

That was what did it for you. You growled at him as you grabbed him by the lapels of his snowsuit and you slammed him against the wall, knocking off his hat and making the decorations on the wall shake. When his back hit the wall, all of the air was knocked out of his lungs and it pushed out an involuntary moan. While you had him pinned to the wall, you gave him an incredulous look. 

“Did you just fucking moan?” You asked, a bewildered laugh passing through your lips. “What, you like this shit? You like being thrown around?” 

Your words were making Whiskey feel hot, even though the cabin was freezing cold, and he could feel himself growing hard under his snowsuit, praying you wouldn’t notice, but you did. “Wh- are you hard right now? Holy shit, you are!” You exclaimed, reaching down to roughly squeeze his thick cock through the suit. Whiskey let out a choked moan and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall. You had to pretend you weren't impressed by what you had in your hand. "You really are a whore. A pathetic little slut.”

Whiskey’s breaths were coming out ragged and it was taking everything for him not to whimper as you squeezed his dick. Both fortunately and unfortunately, his resolve faltered and a small sound escaped him, making you raise your eyebrows. “Oh, fuck it,” you said brusquely, fisting a hand in his hair and crashing your lips into his. Whiskey let out a surprised gasp when the two of you connected, turning into a moan when your other hand was replaced by your thigh pressing against his crotch. With your other hand free, you wrapped it around his throat, but you didn’t squeeze. You parted for only a moment to breathe, then you recaptured his lips, biting at his split lip (split from when you punched him). You pressed yourself harder against him and he moaned again, allowing you to push your tongue into his mouth. He immediately surrendered to you and you could taste his blood while you explored the wet cavern. His hands slowly moved up to grasp your hips and you pulled away from him, giving his hair a sharp tug. Now that there was enough space to see each others’ faces, you could see the desperate need and complete adoration in his eyes, and he could see the anger on your face, and the desire in yours.

"Do you want this?" You asked him, and he nodded fervently. He opened his mouth to say something else, but you didn’t give him time to speak as you began dragging him to where you assumed the bedroom was, but when you opened the door, you found that it was actually the bathroom. You let out an annoyed groan and opened the next door, revealing the quaint bedroom, and you pushed him in, towards the bed. He started trying to remove your clothes and you slapped him, then grabbed him by his face, squeezing his cheeks. “You get what I give you, understand? You’re not the one in control here, you fucking slut.”

Whiskey let out what sounded like a squeak and nodded as best he could while he was in your grasp. You released him so you could begin undressing him, quickly and with precision. Even in your lustful state, you were still able to remove his clothing without fumbling over every zipper, buckle, and button. When you had him down to just his boxers, you shoved him towards the bed and nodded towards it. “Get on the bed.”

He nodded again and sat in the middle of the bed, waiting patiently for your next instruction while he watched you. You pushed him to lay back while you began taking off your own clothes, but only a little at a time. First, your boots and your snowsuit, then your pants and socks. You stood there in your shirt and underwear and looked him over with a scrutinous gaze. You could see just how hard he was with the tent in his boxers and the little wet spot on the fabric that covered his tip. You hummed and climbed on top of him, straddling his waist and hovering over him. He was flushed and already panting, hands gripping the blankets on the bed with the effort he was putting forth to not touch you. He’d already made that mistake once, and even though he liked when you smacked him around, he didn’t want to risk you deciding to stop.

You slowly began to inch your way up the bed, crawling forward until you were just above his chest. You had him move his arms so you could situate yourself above his face, and you stayed there, teasing him and once again getting confirmation. “You fucking want this?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, looking into your eyes.

“Then fucking beg for it.”

His eyes widened and his cock twitched, the very thought of having to beg you to let him touch you making him want you even more. You were both extremely aware of the fact that if he truly wanted to, he could flip you over and take control. But he didn’t. He was letting you do this, and there was a part of you deep inside that felt warm at the thought that Agent Whiskey trusted you enough to give you control like that.

“Please,” he begged, his voice wavering and needy. "Bourbon, please let me taste you. Sit on my face and use me to make you feel good. Shit, I need to know what you taste like…what you sound like when I shove my tongue in your pussy. I’ll give- fuck, I’ll do anything. I’ll be so good for you, I swear. Just, please…”

Fuck, he’s hot when he begs…

You hummed and looked like you were considering your options before you looked back down at him. “If you can get my underwear off without making me get up, I’ll let you taste me,” you challenged, a smirk on your face as you watched the wheels turn in his head. When you saw the little lightbulb go off, you were curious what he would do, and you yelped as he grabbed the fabric and literally tore it off you. He practically shredded the garment, and once he managed to snap the elastic, he tossed it to the floor and looked up at you, waiting. You couldn’t mask your surprise, so you let him see it before giving him a smirk and began to lower yourself down. His eyes were drawn to your core and his cock twitched at the sight of it. You stopped when you were just barely hovering over his mouth and he looked up to ask why you stopped when you spoke. “Make me cum and I’ll let you fuck me,” you told him, waiting for him to nod and accept yet another challenge.

Based on his arrogant attitude, you figured that he was all talk, or that he’d at least not be that great at giving head, but you were very wrong. When he opened his mouth for you and you lowered yourself down, he seemed like he was in home territory. He pressed his tongue into you and moaned deeply, making you gasp as you felt his mustache rubbing against your clit. He could tell how wet you’d started to get and he had to stop himself from smirking against you. He did so by dragging his tongue through your folds and circling around your clit, pulling it into his mouth to pay it some extra attention. You groaned from above him and braced a hand on the wall while the other reached down to tug on his hair, making him moan again. You ground yourself down against his mouth and he moved back down to lick long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, devouring you like you were his last meal on Earth. 

You moaned when he pressed his tongue inside you again and nosed at your clit, making you keen above him. You held onto his hair tightly and squeezed his head with your legs, not caring whether he could breathe or not. Whiskey was enjoying every second and he felt like he could cum just from this, without touching himself at all. He had to fight it as he continued to work you towards your edge. He used his tongue to fuck you and you felt his teeth scrape over your most sensitive parts. It was the most amazing you’d ever experienced and you could feel yourself getting closer. You started grinding on his face again, holding him by his hair so you could chase your finale. You were a mess above him, panting and moaning while your other hand stayed on the wall, and Whiskey could feel it when you came, the way you twitched above him and your moans became more guttural. He continued to eat you, because he felt as if he couldn’t get enough, and you had to pull him away from you while you caught your breath. 

When your breathing had evened out, you slowly scooted back down his torso, pulling off your shirt in the process, and everything underneath it. Whiskey moaned at the sight of you, and he raised his hands up, but they only hovered over your thighs, and he gave you a pleading look. “Please, let me touch you.”

You placed your hands on his wrists and guided them onto your waist before you leaned down to kiss him. This one was less rough and more hungry, and you could taste yourself on his lips. Whiskey began to roam your body with his hands, dragging his rough fingertips over the smooth skin of your back and shoulders, running his fingers through your hair and caressing you gently. You wanted to melt into his touch, but you were still pissed about him fucking up the mission. You allowed him to explore for a moment more before you sat back up and unmounted him, kneeling next to him. "Get up. Show me that dick isn't just there for decoration," you ordered, eyes trailing down to his painfully hard erection. "I hope you're as good at fucking as you are at eating pussy."

When given the permission, Whiskey got up and made room for you to lay down on the bed. You spread your legs for him while you got comfortable and you watched him remove his boxers and toss them to the floor. "You don't have a-"

"It's fine. Quit procrastinating and prove to me that you're not all talk, Agent Whiskey."

"Yes ma’am," he replied, pumping his cock a few times before he rubbed his head through your folds. You jumped a little at the feeling, and you opened your mouth in a silent moan when he started to push in. He was big, and the stretch was painful, but it hurt so good. He took it slow and held your thighs while he kept pushing, watching your reactions while he filled you up. He fed it to you, inch by inch, and his eyes darted between your face and your core as it swallowed his cock. When he reached the hilt, he shuddered and moaned, squeezing your thighs. "Fuck, that's so good…so fuckin' tight."

He was giving you a moment to adjust to his size while his hands began exploring your torso again, carefully palming your breasts. He brushed his thumbs over your nipples and they hardened under his touch. You clenched your walls around him when he dragged his tongue over one of your nipples and he bucked into you, fingers toying with the other. You arched into him and huffed. "You gonna just sit there or are you gonna fuck me?"

He took that as an invitation and he began to move slowly while trailing kisses up to your jaw, rolling his hips with every thrust. You couldn’t hold back your moans when you felt the way he was stretching you open, arms on either side of your head to keep him stable. "Fuck, your pussy feels so good," he murmured, nipping and kissing whatever skin he could reach. 

His thrusts started to pick up speed and you gasped when you felt him hit a spot inside that made you see stars. You let your noises flow freely while you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him a new angle to fuck you in. He started hitting that spot more frequently and you arched your back, a high-pitched sound emanating from your mouth. You started to roll your hips in time with his thrusts when they started to increase in pace. "Oh shit, fuck yeah…Oh fuck, yes just like that," you moaned, pulling Whiskey down so you could suck a mark onto his neck, not caring about the fact that it would definitely be visible. He groaned at the pain of your teeth digging into him and his speed began to increase. 

Even though you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he got you in bed, he was making you feel so good that you didn’t even care. You moaned against his neck as he pounded into you and your fingers found their way back into his hair. You pulled on it and at the same time, he grabbed your legs and pushed your knees up so he could hook your legs over his shoulders. You practically mewled as his cock started to hit that spot that made you see stars over and over, pounding deeply into you. You were pulling his hair so hard that you were almost pulling it out, and Whiskey loved it. He continued his pace, getting rougher with every thrust until the bed was thudding loudly against the wall. 

You had moved your head to the other side of his neck and you were panting and moaning in his ear while you listened to him babble in yours. "Oh fuck…Bourbon, you feel so fucking good…wanna fuck you like this all the time…fuck pull my hair harder…please…oh fuck, just like that…you're so fucking perfect, I fucking love this pussy."

While you listened, you could feel a second orgasm building inside you and you were desperately trying to get there, doing everything you could to get him to fuck you harder. "Fucking hell... oh fuck, right there…oh my g- oh fuck, yes, right there, good boy, yes! Fuck…harder, fuck me harder," you said to him, fingers gripping him tightly.

Being called a 'good boy' awoke something in Whiskey that he hadn't been aware of before, and he fucking loved it. He did exactly what you asked, keeping the same pace but thrusting harder, drilling into you at a pace that left you almost screaming. 

"Fuckfuckfuck, yes! Fuck, that's so fucking good! Oh fuck, you're such a good boy…shit, Jack, I'm gonna fucking cum!" 

That was the first time you ever called him by his name instead of 'Agent Whiskey,' and he loved the sound of his name coming from your mouth. He loved the way you praised him and he was so close.

He let his forehead drop to your shoulder and he panted heavily, almost whining against you and he moaned out your name. Not 'Bourbon'. Your name. After he said it once, he started repeating it over and over like a prayer, moans turning to whimpers as he released inside you, and you groaned when you felt him begin to spill inside you. Then you realized he was about to stop and you squeezed him with your legs. "Don't fucking stop, don't you fucking stop!" You demanded, chasing your orgasm that was sitting right on the edge.

Whiskey moaned out your name again, in the most pathetic way, and you came hard, your walls clamping down around him while you bit into his shoulder, stifling the loud, guttural moan that ripped through you. Whiskey's thrusts slowed to a stop and you both stayed there for a second before he carefully released your legs, helping you to drop them back at his sides. You were sweaty and the cold air of the cabin suddenly hit both of you, making you shiver.

You slowly sat up and clenched as you let Whiskey’s softening cock slip out of you, trying desperately to avoid leaking any cum out while you made your way to the bathroom. It was always a good idea to pee after sex so you didn't get a UTI. 

After you used the restroom and you were sure all of the cum leaked out, you went to go wash your hands and try to sleep. You hated sleeping in day clothes, and you'd rather sleep naked than wear the clothes you had to bed. When you exited the bathroom, you started to feel that dull, all too familiar ache in your bones that would soon be vibrating and pulsing throughout most of your body. Hopefully sleep will help, you thought to yourself as you saw Whiskey sitting on the side of the bed, starting to put his clothes back on. 

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm getting dressed so I can go sleep on the couch."

You paused for a second, hating what you were about to say, but excited at the thought. "The fuck you are. Pull the sheets back and get in that damn bed," you said harshly, pulling the curtains over the windows to block the extra light, since there wasn't a light switch to turn off lights.

Whiskey gave you a confused look and you gave him an expectant one while you climbed into the bed. When he joined you, you grabbed his hip and pulled him close, pressing your front against his back. You pulled the blankets up around you and you held him in your arms, breathing against the back of his neck. He shivered and was about to say something when you interrupted, grabbing a handful of his hair and yanking his head back. "Don't say a fucking word." 

You could feel his attempt at a nod and you released his head, wrapping your arms around him again as you murmured "go the fuck to sleep."

—-----------------------

A few hours into the night, you're awoken from a dead sleep by the creaking of the cabin, the sound of the wind outside, and the sharp pains shooting through your nerves. Whiskey was still fast asleep, but the fire was almost out. You could feel it in the lack of warmth. Reluctantly, you left the comfort of the bed to go investigate the strange creaking sounds, put more wood on the fire, and look through your bag to see if you packed emergency anything. Digging through the bag, you managed to find a bottle of your THC oil that you made, but you were almost out. You sighed and unscrewed the dropper and put a few drops under your tongue, letting them soak in while you put the bottle away. You also got out your glasses to see if Ginger left any messages, and there were a couple, but they made your stomach drop.

20:07 - It looks like the blizzard is going to be a heavy one. It may be a few hours or even a few days before we can get you.

21:43 - I think you might end up getting snowed in. I'm so sorry.

23:58 - We're going to have to dig you out when the weather dies down. Don't kill Agent Whiskey, please.

You groaned as you read the messages on the display of the glasses and you took them off, putting them back. After you made sure the fire was going again, you went to go check one of the windows, but you couldn’t see anything because of how bad the snow was. You couldn’t tell if you were snowed in or not, but regardless, you despised the idea of being stuck in a cabin with Whiskey. It wasn’t just because it was Whiskey, either. It was because just like him, you were almost head over heels in fucking love with him, except you hated it. You hated the idea of someone making you so vulnerable, so you masked it with hatred because you'd be damned if you let another loved one die. Since you'd already crossed the line you'd drawn by sleeping with him, then sharing a bed with him afterwards, you were afraid you'd let your feelings slip out. You had to come up with a plan, but at the same time, you were cold and wanted to go back to bed. 

It was decided that while you were laying in bed, you would come up with a plan, so you got back under the blankets and got comfortable, facing away from Whiskey. Unfortunately for you, at that moment, he turned over in his sleep and unconsciously pulled you to him, holding you close in his arms. You hated that you loved it, and you had to fight the urge to turn and punch him. You eventually let yourself relax under his touch and you started to drift off while you were trying to plan how you'd avoid accidentally revealing your feelings. The plan was to continue pretending you hate him, same as before, and definitely not sleep with him again.

[davestriderpostscratch]

nobody was having sex on that damn meteor

[glassessence]

Oikawa headcanons | SFW & NSFW

Nobody asked for this, but I just love him so much. Thinking of making this a series and expanding to other pretty HQ boys ^^

O I K A W A   T O O R U     |     S F W 

Good with his hands. His fingers are long and slender and calloused, but incredibly nimble. Loves braiding hair. Knows all the basics and is damn good at them too.

Likes cuddling, but loves to be cuddled. If you initiate cuddling, homeboy just melts. Hold him close and run your hands through his hair. Being the best setter around Miyagi means he’s always taking care of his team, so he’s super appreciative of small moments when he can just relax in someone else’s arms.

Usually you two are just a mess of limbs in bed. His arms loose around you, his legs tangled with yours under a sky quilted with stars. It’s chaotic, but comforting.

He loves falling asleep with you. He tries to not fall asleep before you do (which fails half the time lol) because his favourite moment is the space in between. When you’re asleep and he’s drifting and the whole world feels ethereal. In the quiet hours of the night, when the world is slow and soft, that’s when his dreams feel closer than ever, especially with you by his side.

We all know this boy is obsessed with volleyball, but he’s also a star nerd. He adores the starry skies and is always trying to teach you about it. Stargazing dates. Meteor shower reminders sneakily put into your calendar. Flirty texts telling you about rare celestial events. Wrapped in blankets and cradling hot cups of tea, amidst the cold night and icy winds, you and Oikawa have seen as far as the four moons of Jupiter through his telescope.

His love languages are words of affirmation, gift giving and quality time. He doesn’t always have time for you since the man lives and breathes volleyball, so he makes sure that the time you do have together is meaningful. He likes coming home with surprises for you. Never anything big, sometimes something silly and always something that makes you smile.

Is totally the type of person to bring you a Hershey’s kiss as a meme on date night though. (dw, he always makes it up to you later).

Definitely a Slytherin. No contest.

His favourite subject is literature. Hates the concept of “the chosen one” and is into surprisingly dark subject matter. He’s probably into Greek tragedies, tbh. Relates to the hero’s downfall whilst also refusing to fall to the same fate.

Cannot handle spice for the life of him. Mild all the way for this boi.

Would never wear ugly Christmas sweaters with you. They go against his pretty setter aesthetic. Would totally wear disgustingly cute matching outfits with you though.

An ass man for sure. His favourite outfit on you is tight jeans and a pretty top. Ya boi’s a bit of a sucker for the elegance in simplicity.

NSFW under the cut, ya filthy animals ;) 

O I K A W A   T O O R U     |     N S F W 

Likes having his hair pulled. Not too roughly, but deep kisses with your fist in his hair is a massive turn-on for him. One of the easiest ways to get him in the mood.

Is a massive tease. To him, there’s nothing better than watching you squirm, getting you all hot and bothered, feeling the slick between your legs and knowing it’s all for him. It’s heady, it’s hot, it’s a power trip and he thrives in your heavy breathing and soft whimpers for him.

Switch. Either way, he never loses his quips and wit. He’s always got something smartass to say to you. It’s one of his charms. Plays it up for playful punishment during sub-play.

He’s willing to try almost anything with you. In fact, he quite enjoys being pegged when the mood strikes. Just don’t suggest anything involving other people. This man has been fighting for his place his whole life; the thought that he may not be enough for you would crush him.

(he might be willing if it was iwaizumi though… )

Slow and sensual sex with this man is a gift from the gods. He knows how to please. Long kisses. Tender touches. Deep thrusts while he gazes into your eyes and tells you how much he loves you. How good you feel. How good you make him feel. Treasure these nights. They are jewels in the dark.

Gives oral liberally and enjoys it too. This boy’s tongue works fast with words, but it works even faster with the taste of you in his mouth. Nimble fingers and a talented tongue make for a deadly combo.

Prefers handjobs over blowjobs. Loves getting a handjob from you while you kiss his neck. Blowjobs are hot too, but there’s just something so fucking sexy when your lips ghost over his neck, your hand tugging on his cock and your fingers clenched in his hair.

Oikawa would never scream or groan loudly enough for the neighbours to hear, but he does make a lot of noise. Soft grunts. Loud gasps. Moans. Lots of muttered curses and gibberish. Your name. A lot. You make him feel good and he wants to make damn sure you know it too.

Aftercare from him is the best. He knows he’s used you. He knows you’re tired. So he’s incredibly gentle with you. He’ll press tender kisses to your forehead, rub the soreness from your body and clean you up. He’ll make you warm tea and food if you’re hungry. This boy will take care of anything you need with hearts in his eyes.

[kewltie]

anyway, abo au where alpha prohero ground zero decides it's time to start a family of his own but he doesn't have a mate and neither does he want one so he signs up for an omega surrogate program & meet his former childhood friend who will now carry his baby for him. 

izuku is a male omega w/ v v v high fertility even for his secondary sex and a strong body which make him an ideal surrogate to give birth healthy babies. w/ the program izuku contracted, izuku had given birth to several babies for various ppl over the years & babies are all happy and that's all that matter.

being a surrogate wasn't ever part of his dream but izuku is an omega & quirkless in a world that doesn't exactly appreciate either. one day when he was fruitlessly working at his 9 to 5 job, a rep from the company approached him w/ a pamphlet about surrogacy. the paid is v v good, the prenatal care & pregnancy compensation is all taken care of by the clients and his company, and he can select and choose which jobs to take. many families and ppl in the world cant have kids of their own for various reasons and izuku is HELPING THEM ACHIEVE THEIR DREAM. in his own way izuku is helping these people!!!!  He may not be saving lives has a hero that he always wanted to be but he's giving them their hope and dream in a child they all want so izuku does his job proudly. the only sadness he gets from it that once it's over the baby isn't his anymore bc he's contracted to sign over his parental rights to his clients.

so he tries desperately not to fall desperately in love w/ each of the babies he had. it's... tough but he loves them all the same. the good point is that some of his clients will let him talk and meet w/ their child’s birth parent so izuku isn't deprived of that connection.

it's a quiet and unconventional job, but izuku is happy w/ this lifestyle that he had chosen even as it make DATING AN ABSOLUTE pain. how do you explain to ppl that no you're not marry yet or date anyone but you have several kids floating around all over japan in various household??? lol /o\ this made him feel terribly alone thinking how he wants a family of his own one day after seeing how he's making his client so happy w/ their new baby in their arms. happiness wrapped in a surreal sadness as he watched his babies w/ their new family wishing for that happiness for himself one day but while izuku is settled in his bubble of melancholy an solitude, katsuki BUSTED DOWN THAT DOOR when he made a requested to have a surrogate. NOT JUST ANYONE WILL DO, the best one you FUCKING GOT: experience, results, good health, strong quirk, smart, and not some fucking easy omega.

the qualifications and requirements are obscene and ridiculous lolol but he paid through the roof to get the absolute best for his future child. izuku hits every one of these markers except... for the quirk one. the program hesitate to bring the two to meet but katsuki is impatience. he had been delayed and delayed over and over again for months as they try to match up a good surrogate partner for him. every one of them he had quickly rejected v v loudly and walked out on the meeting. izuku is literally their last hope as katsuki throws another fit.

katsuki is getting older now, close to his 30s annd still stuck in singlehood while all his colleagues and friends settle down with a family of their own. his parents, esp his old hag, has been relentlessly nagging him to GIVE HER A BABY ALREADY SHE WANTS TO BE A GRANDMA BEFORE SHE DIE so w/ all kind of pressures, he said fuck it, i'll give you a fucking BABY but i dont need a mate to do it but in truth he earnestly does want a baby for his own bc the idea of raising a tiny human w/ all the trails and errors and potentially fucking up is humbling & huge responsibility.  he thinks he’s up for it like the pro-stage where he's standing at the top now, he can conquered it w sheer force and effort as he does w/ any challenge that he face. Parenthood will be his greatest battle and hurdle he has to overcome and he's going to fucking ACE IT. so katsuki is 10000% in this and he wants the best surrogate for his baby.

the program finally have izuku & katsuki meet after wasting 5 months of trying to find katsuki a suitable partner that he won't reject right away. so their first meeting go something like this: multiple slam doors, a table is flipped, and a lot of yelling.

it went great because izuku is hired right away. Just kidding.

katsuki had thought it was some giant fucking joke the moment izuku had walked through that door. "Who the fuck set this up?!" he demanded, kicking a coffee table over. so furious that his hands were shaking bc the idea of the length he'd went through and hoops he'd jumped over to get here JUST SO HE CAN BE MAKE A FOOL OUT OF, he'd stormed out a sec later, slamming doors violently on his way out and they had to dragged his ass back w/ the fervent promise that no IT'S NOT A PRANK AND WE HAVE NOTHING TO DO W/ CHARGEBOLT OR RED RIOT, PLS PLS LISTEN TO US.

he came back to izuku's unperturbed face as he took a sip of his coffee and katsuki snapped defensively, "i hope you won't fucking be drinking that piss when you're pregnant with my baby."

Unimpressed, Izuku replied, "good thing im not pregnant yet bc who said i would agree."

Flustered and red in the face w/ anger bc THE AUDACITY OF IZUKU TO REJECT HIM WHEN KATSUKI SHOULD BE THE ONE TO DOING IN THE FIRST PLACE!! izuku was the one who doesn't deserve to carry his child!! but the director of the program hurriedly assured him that izuku IS THE *BEST*. he got a pages of recommendation/referral, glowing reviews, and every client of his had never been happier bc of him. all his pregnancy were carried to full term and the babies are all good & strong. izuku himself go the gym when he's not on the job, keeping a healthy lifestyle. he doesn't drink or smoke (which katsuki emphasized in his requirement) and his family doesn't have any record any genetic disorder. he may not have finish college but he test high in his IQ and he take his job v v v seriously. the only problem was... he's quirkless.

it's a thing izuku always make it point for all his clients to know what they could potentially get w/ their children if they chose him. some walked away but most stayed with bc izuku is THE BEST OF THE BEST and they want kid more than they want a manufactured perfect child.

"will that be a problem?" izuku asked, meeting his eyes dead on. "does the thought of having a quirkless child anger you?"

katsuki bristles, clenching & unclenching his hands at his side. though no much had change over the years, he's older now, not that dumbass kid anymore, misguided by his own sense of pride and arrogance and warped by prejudice and the superiority of his quirk. He had left that behind in UA, who happily beaten the idiocy out of him. now, he doesn't care if his child is quirkless or not bc they're his and he'll raise and love them all the same. if the world treat his kid crap for being quirkless, he'll teach them to fuck the world up till it bow down and kiss their ass bc they're a bakugou and they don't settle for anything less, which brought back to the point that izuku REALLY IS THE BEST THEY GOT.

so he shook his head and said, "it doesn't matter whether they're quirkless or not bc they're mine and i always take good care of what's mine."

Izuku's eyes widen and for fraction of a second his cool mask of difference crack under katsuki's heartfelt and sincere words. They havent seen each other since middle school, that’s over a decade, and katsuki truly have grown up into someone the entire world can admire and hold up on a pedestal as the no. 1 hero in the country.

"And what about you? you're okay with me?" katsuki retorted. "with the kind of volatile *history* that we shared."

Izuku paused, and then, he said quietly, "i'm not that petty to deny you a child bc of our past bc neither of us are the kids we were back then."

katsuki stood up. "get him the paperworks and have him sign it. i want him and nobody else."

Izuku jerked up in surprised. "that's it? you dont want to ask me anything else? don't you want to go through my records and background to make sure that im the right fit for you."

katsuki stared down at him and it was like pinned under glass before he said, "we may have changed, but something are still the same. you still want to help ppl even if this is a roundabout way  to do it. i trust my instinct and my instinct is screaming at me to give you a fucking chance." He looked away, scratching the back of his head as he continued, "if there's one thing that is made clear to me now is that you're a good person and i was a shittyass kid for not realizing that sooner."

izuku's breath hitched. it's not an apology but it's damn close.

and with that he left izuku dizzy with a confusing cocktail of warmth, shock, and something far too nebulous and strange for him to put a finger to yet. when he first realized it was katsuki who was looking for a surrogate, he'd steel himself of the rejection & lashing out to come. izuku had spent his entire life rejected one way or another, so he was mentally prepare for this to be added to pile esp from the man who had hurt him repeatedly before. when katsuki had left for U.A. and izuku in the dust, they rarely have anything to do w/ each other after that even as he'd followed katsuki meteoric rise to the top, his blazing trajectory that placed him as the current no.1 bc despite everything, katsuki truly is amazing and deserved his place. he just never thought they would meet again in the sort of situation where a baby is the bargaining chip.

izuku was prepared for everything that katsuki would throw at him... but not his fervent agreement. now, izuku got to face the fact that for a year they're going to spend in each other pocket as izuku tries to carry not only katsuki's baby but his hope and future too. it's going to be either a total nightmare or some v v surreal dream bc it's bakugou katsuki with all that fame and temper and strong armed will and izuku is just... plain old izuku. he never had a client w/ such power and weight to throw around and so high profile that every know his name.

oh what did he sign up for, izuku thought as the door to the meeting room was slammed open again and katsuki glared at the director. "wait i want it all to be done today," katsuki said. "put my sperms in him as soon as possible."

izuku dropped his face into his hand and sighed.

the process of getting izuku impregnated is all v clinical and boring. izuku goes under a pseudo heat simulation that fool his body to think he's actually going into heat so his fertility up even more so during this period and he get artificially inseminated w/ katsuki's sperm. this is actually a process and takes several days & even weeks to prepare bc waiting for izuku's most fertile window during his heat period is v v important to have higher chance of success NORMALLY but w/ advance tech izuku can go under a pseudo heat that trigger release of eggs  so they can get it all done pretty quickly and dont have to wait for nature to set it up for them.

katsuki already provided enough sperm to last a fucking lifetime bc he's an overly prepared asshole and it's three days later when they meet back at the clinic to start the process. all of this is under the watchful care of doctors and nurses to make sure everything go right. izuku had done this many times before for his previous clients so this isn't new to him at all but it's the first time that a client specifically demand to be part of the entire process.

izuku stares him down and tells him in no uncertain detail bc it's already weird enough to be the one to carry his former childhood friend's baby but to have him watch izuku get inseminated w/ his sperm?? YEA OK, no. katsuki glowers bc he just want everything to GO SMOOTHLY. his micromanagement & obsessiveness drives the clinic insane but izuku kinda finds it funny and cute?? maybe bc he's aware that it's just katsuki's nerves acting up since this is so terribly new and terrifying for him and HE DOESN'T LIKE IT WHEN THINGS ARENT UNDER HIS CONTROL.

neither katsuki or izuku is alone this bc surrogacy isn't about either them it's about the baby and the ppl who helps make it possible and that's both of them. the surrogate who carries the unborn fetus and donor who gives a part of themselves to make it all possible. izuku hesitates before deciding screw it & reaches out and holds katsuki's hand in comfort AS THOUGH KATSUKI THE ONE GETTING THE PROCEDURE DONE TO HIM. "i'll be fine," he insists. "i've done this plenty of times before and dr. abe even longer than that with 20yrs of experience so i'll be ok."

"I'm not worry," katsuki snaps, even though he squeezes Izuku's hand hard enough that izuku is afraid his bones might crack under the pressure. "i know you'll be fucking fine, wont he dr. abe?" he stares down at the doctor with the full force of his wrath that the doctor shifts nervously.

"o-of course, bakugou-san," dr abe is quick to assure him. "our best ppl is on the job."

izuku rolls his eyes bc while heat inducing artificial insemination isn't exactly a new tech but there's a risk to any kind of medical procedure. it's low though and izuku isn't worry.

katsuki lets him go and izuku just sends him a quick reassuring smile over his shoulder even as katsuki can't take his eyes off of the entire trip to the surgical room. the process takes around 1-2 hours max & izuku comes out of it mostly woozy & still under heat related stress.

he needs to rest the next few days as he lets nature and w/ the help of science takes it course. izuku rests up at the clinic that provide him 24hrs care to make sure everything is alright which is all normal and part of the procedure. what surprise him is that katsuki visiting him DAILY. he actually bring izuku's home cooked meals that are carefully & thoughtfully prepared (healthy food choices!!) that it silences him for a moment.

"you know im not pregnant yet," izuku points out helpfully. "do you want me to explain how biology work in case UA didn't go over it in their curriculum?"

"shut your face and just eat," katsuki says with a glower, and watches intensely as izuku eats every bite and not leave a single piece behind. while there he harasses izuku's nurses and doctors, asking for izuku's vital stats and probing questions about the surgery & his health.it's so annoying and overbearing, but izuku can't help the smile threatening to break through his defense bc that's just like katsuki shoving his business into everything and dominating the entire process even though it is IZUKU who is going through it all. it's dreadfully cute.

izuku is fully recovered after several days of rest as expected and he is, once again surprised, to see katsuki is right there every step of the way as he is release from the clinic. katsuki who took a short shift today just so he can pick izuku up, which IS SUPER RARE. katsuki is a total workaholic and married to his job kind of pro hero so for him to take half a day off is beyond shocking for everyone?? bc HE GOT ENOUGH VACATION/SICK DAYS TO TAKE SEVERAL MONTHS OFF w/o any worry, but he came to take izuku home and make sure everything is in order.

it's not that izuku didn't have any clients wanting to be so involve in the whole surrogacy/pregnancy process but katsuki takes it into a whole new lvl w/ how much he inserts himself into izuku's life like it's not just the baby he care about but izuku too. he delivers izuku home and make sure izuku have his emergency contacts at all time in case ANYTHING, ABSOLUTEY ANYTHING HAPPEN and he wants izuku to text him daily with updates even for stupid things. he's obsessive and demanding and nervous, and izuku thinks it's funny as hell.

so for the next several weeks, izuku flood katsuki's phone w/ commentary about his days that HAS NOTHING TO DO W/ his chance of being pregnant. since izuku full time job is just being a surrogate, he mostly spend his days wandering around the city, reading, volunteering, etc. izuku updates katsuki on his daily activities and while he doesn't always get a reply immediately but his updates are always left on read and sometimes katsuki would leave some *encouraging* word like 'yea,' or 'okay' and izuku doesn't know why but he finds them comforting all the same.

 when he wanders around the city, he'll text katsuki his coordinates bc katsuki is paranoid &wants him to keep away from dangerous area or area under villain attack, he would take pictures of the heroes he see and katsuki would have a snarky comments on each & every one of them. it's in this moments that the two of them really come alive. izuku get a glimpse of the world that he could have had if he had a quirk and pursue his dream of going pro hero and insights on what it's like to be bakugou katsuki, the man standing at the pinnacle of the pro hero scene.

At this point katsuki is even more engaged in izuku's text now. he becomes interest in the books izuku is currently reading, the outreach programs izuku super passionate about esp for young and disenfranchise quirkless youths. then there are izuku's rowdy neighbors and their hilariously complicated love life that izuku is terribly invested bc of his lack of one.

"i think higa-san is going to break up with him today," izuku would update him one day, after watching his neighbors have another blow out.

katsuki texts back an hour later: "yea right, the guy is spineless coward. he wouldn't ever go through it."

izuku lets out a smile as he stares down at the text. it's the most fun izuku ever had in the middle of a job that he forget they're not friends at all but client and surrogate. this is a job for him and izuku is an end to a mean for katsuki. it doesn't mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything. Why is he even trying?

Izuku has been doing the job for seven years and carried his pregnancy to full terms five times. he knows the routine even though each client he had were different from one another and not all pregnancy are the same, but he knows what to expect and prepare. nothing truly surprised him anymore. Or at least they shouldn’t. ,his world didn't suddenly change w/ katsuki's arrival in his ordinary life. izuku is still very much the same person, but all the same he wake up everyday w/ renews energy and lightens heart, looking forward to seeing the text notification from katsuki popping up on his phone screen.

he finds himself looking forward to their interaction the most throughout his days. a glimpse into katsuki's world and what it means to be a part of his life again however temporary it is bc izuku knows there is a time limit to this. he's only allow to talk like this w/ katsuki bc he's doing him a favor, a job, an obligation in exchange of money. they're in a relationship artificially made, they're not friends or colleagues and izuku may be carrying katsuki's baby in the future but he's not a parent w/ katsuki.

He’s an incubator.

these thoughts feel tangibly familiar to his past cases where he had carried the fetus to full term and had to part ways with his baby and the client/parents and separate himself from their lives after the birth but it had never hurt in this way like the thoughts alone would cut his heart into pieces now. it's beyond selfish to get attach and izuku tries to maintain a careful distance w/ katsuki bc they're client and an employee, but katsuki is relentless. he won't settle for just for pieces of izuku and his life. he wants it all. Izuku may be weak enough to give it to him…

 he invests himself into izuku's life, his interest, his worries and thoughts. to katsuki, izuku isn't just an incubator but someone who shares the other half of his baby's genes so of fucking course he IS INVESTED BC izuku is just as important as the fetus he could be carrying right now but izuku has a hard time wrapping his head around it bc while izuku was w/ his other client they were all kind and caring to him during his surrogacy but never to this length. they weren't interest in him as a person but someone who is a means to an end, a tool to make their dream come true.

izuku isn't hurt by that regard bc he knows getting involve w/ your surrogate can be a hot mess & confusing for the baby growing up so izuku knows how to keep his distance and careful to keep his heart walled up but katsuki has a habit of breaking things. He’s so very, very good at it, especially distubring the peace of izuku’s heart.

katsuki may be relentless w/ his attention & dedication but izuku's walls went down embarrassingly easy as though he was waiting for katsuki to reach out toward him after all the years apart and shake him loose from his bubble of solitude. katsuki doesn't realize how affected izuku is by his clumsy and gestures, but izuku won't tell. He’s too embarrassed to ever bring it up because even after all these years katsuki still has such a sever effect on him.

so izuku lends himself to enjoy this upcoming months as much as he can bc once it's over they will part ways again as though they exist solely in different space and the only chance he'll get to see katsuki and the baby is through the screen of his tv. it doesn't bring him any comfort but it's manageable. izuku can deal with it. he got years to get used to it by now.  It’s not gentle but it’s a blunt kind of truth that mend with time.

several weeks after since izuku did the procedure, he doesn't feel any different but izuku wakes up one morning and he could feel a strangeness settling over his body. there are a lot of old wives tales about pregnant omegas and women and most of them are false, standing against scientific knowledge but izuku been going around this block five times already, so he realizes there may be some truths to a few of them.

he gets out of bed and makes breakfast before making sure to send a text and photo to katsuki about his meals bc katsuki is ANAL about making izuku eat right. katsuki motherhenning him miles away even as he is out on patrol is still the most hilarious and weirdly sweet thing, izuku finds. it doesn't feel suffocating at all to him. sometimes he when the thought slip out of him unconsciously he thinks this is what it's like to have an alpha of his own, but katsuki isn't his by any means.

izuku forgoes his favorite breakfast meal this time and go for something he rarely eats. a food that he normally doesn't chose but it feels right this time. it all clicks. the signs were all there several days back. the frequent bathroom usage, his breasts throbbing, and cramps. he'd seen it already but this morning it lines up perfectly like it was all meant to be, like everything is built up just for this moment right here.

so with a bounce to his steps, he waits for katsuki's text back. It takes a few mins when katsuki get back from his morning run bc he got a routine and is terribly predictable in that regard. his following texts rip into izuku's choice of food bc IT ISN'T HIS USUAL at all and katsuki have colorful words about the kind of junk izuku force feed into his body and DOESN'T HE KNOW HOW TO TAKE CARE OF HIMSELF. HOW THE FUCK DID HE SURVIVES ALL THESE YEARS ON HIS OWN.

izuku smiles down at his phone even though katsuki is blasting him and everything he choose to be, but HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT IT ALL MEANS. it's kinda adorable so when katsuki get into a slow rant about food group and healthy life choices, izuku cuts in:

me: oh btw im pregnant :)

he didn't get any get any respond from katsuki for the next five mins so during that time izuku makes fresh cup of juice to drink while katsuki works to settle down his panic. when he comes back fifteen mins later, it's to a series of angry keymash and texts.

kacchan: a;sjdasdf

kacchan: as;dlifucccck

kacchan: fuck fuck fuck

kacchan: are you serious?!

kacchan: DONT FUCKING JOKE WIHT ME DEKU

kacchan: i'm coming over right now

kacchan: you better be sitting down

kacchan: don't fucking move even an inch

kacchan: YOU HEAR ME

me: ok

izuku sits there peacefully, enjoying his cup of juice as he waits for katsuki's arrival. one of his hand rests over his stomach carefully & though he hadn't taken any test or get his bloodwork done, he knows, instinctively & intimately that there is a life growing inside of him.

it's all very silly and unproven since there's no concrete evidence to support any of it, but maybe it's his omega instinct, maybe it's his experience as a carrier who brought five children into this world, or maybe it's just wishful thinking on his part, but he knows and this is a truth that won’t be brought down.

izuku takes his job v seriously bc people's happiness hinged on his ability to give them a child they earnestly had wished for so he of course he would want to be pregnant as soon as possible, but--izuku looks down at his stomach, this time even more so he wants it to be real.

 he wants to be the one to fulfilled katsuki's earnest wish and give him the child he desired. it's as much a part of his job, his duty, but also something he selfishly wants for himself. this baby, this child will be his only connection to katsuki once his job his completed. they'll part ways after this--no more late night phone calls, morning texts, and silly anecdotes they exchange to each other everyday bc izuku is unlikely to ever see him again. their worlds are just too far apart, like the two planets stuck in orbit but never meeting but at least with this child, izuku knows there is always a piece of him w/ katsuki always. so more than anything, this child will be his gift to katsuki.

he picks up his phone & sends katsuki a text.

me: if you dont mind, could you pick up a pregnancy test just to be sure?

izuku knows himself & his body, but he wants to be 110% sure for katsuki's sake. he doesn't want to get katsuki's hope up only to crush it later. katsuki's respond back is quick and telling.

kacchan: will three do?

kacchan: do you need anything else?

kacchan: i'll get them

izuku pauses, frowning hard as he looks down at his phone.

me: please don't text and drive

me: also, try stay below the speed limits

me: i dont want you to die before you see your child.

this time it takes longer to get a respond back.

kacchan: dont fucking talk to me about the speed laws kacchan: im not a reckless idiot

kacchan: my entire job description is to uphold the law so degenerates dont fucking run amok

kacchan: ... im not driving right now

izuku's brows furrow in thought before a smile cracks across his face.

me: kacchan... did you pull over to the side just to yell at me?

me: that's so terribly cautious and cute of you :3c

me: you're already on your way to becoming a great dad.

kacchan: FUCK YOU!!!!!!

Izuku laughs, light and so tinged with joy that it feels so strange to him to be this happy about something silly as this.

me: not a chance but thanks.

me: dont forget to buy my pregnancy test and i dont need anything else. just come here as soon as possible afterward

and he leaves it that. katsuki doesnt text him back anymore, leaving izuku to wait for his arrival with anticipation. he should get up and clean the apartment so it's presentable at least to katsuki. he hadn't had a guest in a while so this would get a good change but katsuki's warning still loop in his head. getting up to clean the apartment would constitute moving around and izuku is barely into his first trimester so, it's not like he's straining his body or anything. katsuki is just being an overbearing anxious new father.

izuku had seen that before in his past clients, who constantly fret over izuku's health but they're not THE GROUND ZERO and he has the nagging suspicious that he doesn't want to test katsuki's thinning patience with him. it's fun to tease him like this but he knows his limit. so izuku continues to sit there & waits, playing w/ his phone as he scrolls through the hero news site to check any interesting updates. izuku may have long let go of his dream but he can't disconnect from it completely. it's how he stay in the loop w/o actually being a part of it.

izuku's eyes widen as he spots a tweet on the #groundzero tag on twitter that sits atop of all others: "no jokes, guys i think i just a saw #groundzero stormed into my store and headed toward the omega’s hygiene care aisle. he bought a bunch of stuff before heading out.”

it already got a several thousands likes and retweets, with a flood of comments that ranged from "what?? sounds fake lol" or "okay, who would have guess gz would be the one to secretly keeping an omega on the side" and others are filled with more confusion and disbelief.

izuku makes a face. his contract binds him to confidentially and assurance that his identity remains quiet. he never had any problem with his identity being exposed w/ any of previous clients but then again he never had such a famous client before. this--is going to be a headache. he chews down on his lower lip in thought as he shuts down his phone. he's going to have to remind katsuki to be more careful next time lest they figure out what katsuki is up to... and who izuku is to him. not his friend, not his sweetheart, not his omega but his surrogate.

just as izuku ponders about doing damage control, there is a series of loud insistent knocks on his apartment door. izuku blinks and hurriedly to the door w/o any thought who is on the other side bc somehow he knows it got to be *him*.

he opens to door to katsuki's scowling face.

"i told you to not fucking move," katsuki scolds, and pushes his way inside w/o any invite, carefully moving izuku to the side like izuku is made of glass which make izuku annoyed right away but also painfully fond in that . he's an overprotective idiot but he's trying and that's--*something*.

 "how else would i let you in then," izuku retorts, rolling his eyes as he leads katsuki into apartment. "im only couple of weeks pregnant at most and you're already asking for miracles."

katsuki scoffs but doesn't argue as he hands izuku a full plastic bag. "okay, start peeing."

"I--" Izuku opens the bag and looks inside, staring down at the pregnancy tests stuffed to the rim of the small bag, all eleven boxes of them, "I dont have enough pee for this."

katsuki frowns. "drink a lot of water then," he suggests.

Izuku shoots him a glare. "that's not funny," he snaps.

katsuki's frowns deepen. "i'm not being funny," he says.

Izuku sighs and just digs his hand into the bag to grab a handful of the boxes. "i'll do only two so dont even." he throws the rest of the bag at katsuki and heads toward the bathroom.

it horrifyingly takes them all 30mins to be done w/ the tests bc katsuki v loudly insisted that he should do more than two, kept on banging on the bathroom door to let him know that. izuku gritted his teeth and took three more and really DID RAN OUT OF PEE AFTER THE FIFTH ONE.

the wait for the test results which only take a mins or two is ramped up by katsuki anxiously pacing back and forth in front of izuku until izuku grabs him by the sleeve of his shirt and drags him down to the sit next to him in the couch. "it'll be okay," he assures katsuki.

katsuki scowls and brushes off his touch, but he seems to breathe a little easier after that. the first three tests gives them a positive, the fourth is a negative, and the fifth is a positive. izuku frowns at the result. he knows in his heart that is w/o a doubt pregnant and the majority of the results support that but, he casts a nervous glance katsuki whose face is seemingly troubled, that's probably not enough for katsuki who spend a load of money to afford izuku's time, commitment, and body. Izuku is expensive but so is katsuki’s time and investment.

he definitely wants more than a dubious result that isn't 100% guarantee that izuku's pregnant and even if izuku tells him that he is truly pregnant bc izuku knows his own body, that may not go well either. "we can get the bloodwork done tomorrow to check for sure," izuku tries to assures him. Sometimes science speak louder than a parental instinct.

katsuki stares at him, eyes so intently focus on izuku that he feels like's a butterfly pinned under katsuki's gaze. abruptly, he reaches a hand out and grabs Izuku's own, giving it a quick and purposeful squeeze. "Move in with me," he says, sounding so grave and serious.

izuku gets up from his seat. "Do you want something to drink?" he asks, already heading toward the kitchen. "suddenly, im parched."

"did you hear what i just said?!" katsuki demands, trailing after him like a yapping puppy on his heels. "And sit the fuck down! let me get it."

abruptly, izuku stops and turns around to face katsuki with a glower on his face. "im just pregnant and not an invalid," he snaps, annoyance prickling at him. he had been doing this longer than katsuki could even imagine. "And i can get the drinks myself in my *own* home thank you." katsuki's eyes widen slightly at the sharp tone izuku had quickly adapted and heaves a sigh, carding a hand through his hair in frustration like izuku is the one being purposely difficult here. "I--fuck--" He frowns, face scrunches as he search for his next words. izuku waits it out, patient and silence against the inner turmoil that must now be swirling inside of katsuki.

katsuki's gaze drops to the floor, hands balling at his side. his breathing even out as he grimaces. "sorry," he finally settles on with a quiet mumble.

Izuku steps back in surprise. shock, really. "w--wait can repeat that again because i just thought i heard you apologized without any prompting."

katsuki flushes, ducking his head. "shut the fuck up. im not going to repeat myself," he rebukes, but the damage had been done.

Despite the years tempering his recklessness out he can't help wanting to poke the hornet's nest. "i honestly didn't think sorry was in your vocabulary, kacchan," he teases, grinning.

katsuki flinches back as though struck, surprising izuku once more. the words were said in jest, meant to ease katsuki into a laugh or close to it at least but something like pained flickers across Katsuki's face that immediately izuku wants to take it all back, but katsuki's expression had already closed up.

Izuku's heart hurt, thinking that he'd lost him. he'd pushed too hard. they're aren't friends, barely acquaintances really. just a client-employee dynamic that izuku should have been careful of. he always know where to toe the line of the boundaries of his job and with his client, but--they were doing so well that he'd hoped. been so hopeful because it had almost feels like they were sort of friends again.

izuku and katsuki had always orbit each other's world but childish pride, anger, and superiority had torn them apart and izuku was pushed out of Katsuki’s life. now that they're older, izuku is no longer that child blindingly infatuated with this remarkable person before him. he knows what he's capable of and katsuki had certainly earned his place at the top of the world but he won't be cowed either. so it's fine if katsuki doesn't want to fall back into a some kind of make shift friendship with him. it's fine if he just want to think izuku is just a walking incubator for his child. izuku will survive. He had survive this long without katsuki ‘s looming shadow after all.

katsuki hunches over as he grits his teeth. "fuck."

izuku blinks.

  "i'm not that shitty fucked up kid anymore," katsuki nearly growl out, pinning izuku with a look of full intent. "I'm," he swallows, hesitant, wary, "i'm trying to be a better person, a friend, a son, and most importantly a father now that we have a spawn coming our way."

Izuku's heart quickens at the 'we' usage even though it probably means nothing. nothing at all. katsuki was only just opening himself to him. this is something that startling new and truly welcoming experience for katsuki and izuku shouldn't mistake it for anything else. he can't be too greedy. so he steps forward, wanting to reach out and touch katsuki to affirm of his existence, but he doesn't. not when katsuki is like an exposed wire right now--twitchy, nervous, and just a little shy of imploding from carving himself open for izuku to see all his true feelings and motives.

izuku smiles.

"If i didn't think you were a good person then i wouldn't have entrusted this child,” he touches his still flat stomach, knowing life is stirring underneath his palm, "with you." katsuki truly had grown up. he'll be a good father, izuku muses but it's a bittersweet feeling. "i still want my independence though," he continues. "i've done this many times before so you can stop treating me like i'm going to break if you breath the wrong way. thousands and millions of omegas and women have been doing this a lot longer than me and they're fine. im fine, so breathe."

katsuki's presses his lip together into a grim line. "I know that," he shakes his head, "but you dont have to this alone. i'll want to be there with you every step of the way even if it mean you need someone to run to the grocery store for some shitty midnight craving. I want to be the first person you think about when you need any kind of assistance not because you're weak or helpless but because you just need someone, so let me be that person for you," he finishes, looking on in pained after spouting such sweet sentiments.

it makes izuku want to laugh, but he doesn't think that would be welcoming right now because katsuki still got his pride after all. "I'll think about it," he acquiesce, heart warming several hundred degrees as though he's standing under the direct sunlight of bakugou katsuki.

katsuki grimaces, clearly unhappy with izuku's non-answer but he relents anyway with a long heave. "ok, ok, i can deal with that," he says like the words alone was hard enough to swallow, "but if you change your mind at any moment just let fucking know!"

Oh, no, izuku thinks helplessly. he wants to give katsuki a treat for being so annoyingly overbearing but considerate in his own clumsy ways. "well, if you behave yourself, i might even consider taking you with me to my OBGYN doc this thursday," he says casually with a shrug.

Katsuki scowls, but he stands up straighter. "I'll--" he looks away, flushed with an earnest yearning spread across his face, "be good, okay?"

Izuku quietly tucks a smile between his pressed lips before it break through even though this is terrible for his weak, weak heart.

[camillemontespan]

intoxicated thoughts [drake x camille] [one shot]

LAST FIC OF THE WEEKEND! 

I got caught up writing Drake and Camille angst. I felt inspired. This is so angsty. I hope it has some humour? And I hope I captured Drake’s POV. This follows similar fics I’ve done in relation to his dreams, you can find them on my master list. 

Warnings: Just a lot of swearing because it’s Drunk Drake. 

@moonlightgem7​ @burnsoslow​ @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ @ibldw-main​  @emichelle​ @rainbowsinthestorm​

@jovialyouthmusic​ @saivilo​ @loveellamae​ @mskaneko​  @katedrakeohd​ @sirbeepsalot​ @dcbbw​ @gardeningourmet​ @pug-bitch​ @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​ @drakesensworld​   @walkerswhiskeygirl​   ***********************************************************************

You woke me up again. 

That’s the fifth night in a row now. This is getting ridiculous. 

The fifth night in a row where I wake up in a tangle of sheets soaked with my sweat, my heart pounding and the other side of the bed empty. I wake up alone, as always. But the image of you is clear in my mind’s eye.

What happened this time? Ah yeah. We were in this garden that had cherry blossom trees  growing and the sun was shining. I was sat down on a deckchair with a bottle of beer in my hand and I was watching you play with this little girl on the grass. 

The little girl’s face wasn’t clear; hell, she could have been pixelated. I don’t remember what she looked like. But I remember you perfectly. You were wearing a red sundress with spaghetti straps. Your skin glimmered in the sunlight. You were laughing and twirling the little girl around. 

You turned to where I was sitting and asked the little girl, ‘Shall we ask daddy to play with us?’

That was when I woke up.

That’s how this works, you see. Every night, I go to bed and fall asleep. You appear in my dreams, we do cute things like get married, have kids, typical cutesy things, and that’s when I bolt up from my slumber. Every night, I wake and every night I clamber out of bed to pour myself a glass of whiskey. 

Whiskey helps.  Whiskey clouds my thoughts and soon makes me sleepy again. My head hits the pillow and I surrender to a dreamless state, one devoid of thoughts of you.

That’s how this works.

So, I’m pouring myself whiskey now. A good double measure, that will help. I swear to God, my alcohol intake has quadrupled since I met you. 

*********************************************************************

I work hard to not think of you during the day and I gotta admit, I’ve become pretty good at it. It’s easy after a while. As soon as I think of you, I pinch myself hard and that reminds me to think of something else. It’s at night time that my mind betrays me and the image of you runs rampant. 

Whenever I see you in the day, I’m.. indifferent. I act like I tolerate your company, which is for your own good. Really, it is. But sometimes, you make me laugh. And smile. And you make me more talkative which is fucking annoying because I hate talking. 

You always seem to want me around which doesn’t make sense. Why would you want me around you? I’m Drake Walker. I’m nobody. The only friend I have is Liam while the other courtiers act like I don’t exist. When people start acting like you barely make an impact, you start to believe it. 

But you make an effort to talk to me. You ask me to sit beside you at dinner, when you could just sit with Liam or Maxwell. Maybe it’s because you know I’ll be sat near the end of the table, talking to no one, while trying to work out which fork is the correct one to use. You pity me, that’s it.

Question: why are there so many forks?!

This whiskey tastes good. You know my dad always drank whiskey? That’s why I drink it. I guess it makes me feel sorta close to him if I drink his favourite tipple. Is that tragic? Whatever, I don’t care..

I’m thinking about you again, acting like you’re here. Why do I do this to myself? Why prolong the angsty torture? 

Sometimes, I think I should just fuck a random girl and that’ll put aside any feelings I have for you. Kiara always seems keen, she flirts a lot, but I couldn’t bear the idea of leading her on. I may not have a lot of emotion but I’m not an asshole. I was raised right by my mom and I have a sister. I treat women with respect.

The thing is, no other woman really compares to you. You shine. You bring a little sparkle with you wherever you go and you just get on with it. You haven’t let this suitor competition intimidate you. Never played polo before? Fuck it, you’ll learn how. Never danced the Cordonian Waltz? Fuck it, you’ll constantly rehearse the steps until you get it right.

Which brings me to my next thing.

You’re trying so hard to be good at this competition which means you want to win. You want to win so you will marry Liam. 

That’s the harsh reality I have to drill into my thick skull. 

Fuck, I need another whiskey. There we go. Double measure, nice, nice, nice. 

But we’ve shared moments together! We shared fucking whiskey in Olivia’s cellar. Now that was good fucking whiskey. We drank and talked and joked. For one time, my walls were down and you saw the real Drake Walker. You seemed to like me. 

Then another other time, we went out for dinner! To an Italian restaurant! Like a date! Whyyyy? Why did I invite you out? It was like Lady and the Tramp. Except we’re not dogs and there was no accordion playing waiter or singing and we didn’t have the last string of spaghetti and I didn’t give you a meatball, but still, it was close. It was weirdly intimate.  

Have you ever seen Lady and the Tramp? Those Siamese cats are fucking terrifying. Anyway… more whiskey please. It doesn’t seem to be working right now, why are you still in my fucking head? Get out of my head. Just once, I want you out of my head so I can get some sleep. 

*************************************************

The whiskey is not working. I tried to sleep again but no, you keep running around in my head. All I see is you. Your smile. Your brown eyes with gold flecks. Your ass when you wear those jeans that shape you perfectly. 

Damn, your ass.

I’m reaching for that whiskey bottle again. Another measure will do it; it’ll help me sleep. It burns my throat as I swallow, fiery medicine. The room is spinning a little which is a good sign because it means I’ll soon be close to blacking out. Every little helps.

Do you know I like you? I don’t think you do. I think I confuse you. One minute, I’m sarcastic and the next, I’m making a joke. Fucks sake, I call you by your last name all the time which you will definitely see as a slight. I don’t mean it; it’s the only way to keep you at arms length. If I say your name to your face, it means I’ve let you in. But I got no issue with saying your name right now.

Camille. Camille. Camille.

It sounds delicious on my tongue. 

Drake and Camille. 

No, stop it. This is the equivalent of writing your name paired with my last name on the back of a notebook like a school girl. And I, Drake Jackson Walker, am not a school girl. I am a 28 year old grown ass man with a potential drinking problem. 

Camille Walker.

Jesus, I need more whiskey. 

*************************************************************

Okay, so I’ll tell you about the dream I had last night. We were in bed together - no, not having sex - just in bed. Innocent. You were snuggled up into the crook of my arm and reading aloud from your book to me. I think it was a book of love poems. I can’t remember which poem it was, though I don’t actually know any poems so why am I wasting time trying to work out which poem you read out for me?

It was a cosy dream. It was a boring dream, yes, but it showed a snapshot of a life I guess I wouldn’t mind having? That make sense? That’s what I think these dreams are - they’re my subconscious showing me things I actually want but will never have. 

So I guess you could call them nightmares. 

***********************************************************

The whiskey is finally working. My eyes are struggling to stay open and my body feels heavy. I’m definitely gonna be hungover tomorrow. Fuck, what excruciating event has the palace planned for tomorrow? 

Applewood.

Fuck, we’re visiting Applewood tomorrow. Fuck. 

The mere thought of that makes me want to drink more. I hate having to travel to fancy manor houses with the rest of court. There’s rarely time to steal for yourself. You have to be social. You can’t hide. You have to engage in small talk and ignore every barbed comment, every tiny dig and act like nothing bothers you. 

You’ve defended me to Olivia. I’ll never forget that. It was at Lythikos and Olivia was in a particularly bitchy mood. She brought up my sister and I walked out into the snow, not caring that it was rude. She went too far. 

I heard you tell her that if she didn’t wipe the smirk off her face then you would smack it off for her. You then followed me out, bundled up in a scarf and coat. For thirty minutes, we talked. We lay on our backs in the snow, looking up at the meteor shower, and talked. 

It would have been seen as a romantic moment for anyone. It was romantic. That was the beginning of my feelings you see; that was when I began to think that maybe, somehow, you cared for me. You even took my hand when we walked back to the lodge, saying it was for ‘safety.’

So why are you tryin’ so hard to win this contest? I can’t work you out. 

All I want is to tell you that I like you. Like really like you. But I can’t afford to be vulnerable because no doubt you will be chosen by Liam and you will marry him. You don’t need to know my feelings. I wouldn’t burden you with them.

Fuck I’m not usually this angsty. 

This is why I don’t talk to people or open up. Opening up is like opening Pandora’s box. I’d rather keep to myself, have no ties, no disappointment. Because, Camille, in the end, you will marry my best friend and I will have to deal with that. I’ll probably be best man at your wedding. I’ll have to say a speech about how good it is to see Liam in love. I’ll have to give some ‘funny’ anecdotes and then comment on how you’re too good for him but then I’ll laugh and say I’m kidding when really I fucking mean it.

Nah, I don’t mean that.

Fuck it, I do.

Whiskey. One more measure. 

****************************************************************

If we got married, it would be in Texas. I’d take you back to the ranch and we would exchange vows on the jetty by the lake. It would be a small affair; like, thirty people maximum? We would have guests choose from whiskey or wine - no champagne, I hate the fucking stuff - and we’d play rock and roll music. I can totally see you getting down to Elvis.

We can’t go on together with suspicious minds and we can't build our dreams on suspicious minds…

My mom loves Polk Salad Annie. You could dance with her to that song and sing along.  Then everyone would leave and it would just be us, dancing slowly by the lake. I dunno what our song would be. Maybe we would dance without music? Just listen to the sound of the crickets. Maybe I’d sing for you?

Fuck, I’m drunk. I never sing. 

But then we would kiss and the kiss would turn into something more. I would help you out of your wedding dress, careful not to rip it, and I would take you in my arms and I’d make love to you right there by the water.

Jesus, that thought’s got me really hard. 

***********************************************************

I needed that release. 

It’s 3am now. I need to sleep. I need to just stop thinking about you. I need to stop drinking whiskey. I need to stop jerking myself off as I imagine you naked under me. Right, bed time. I’m gonna just close my eyes, count some sheep and I’ll be asleep before I know it.

*********************************************************

Can’t sleep. What a shocker.

Another measure of whiskey. Just keep em’ comin’ invisible bartender.

You know, your room is just down the hall. I could just go to your door, knock and tell you how I feel. 

Yeah! Let’s fucking do it. Let’s tell you how I feel! Then I can come back here and get to sleep. And if you don’t feel the same, it’s cool because I can just say I was hammered (which I am FYI) and laugh it off. 

Yeah, I’m going to your room. We gotta talk.

***********************************************************

Camille woke up to slow knocking on her door. Groaning, she rubbed her bleary eyes and checked the alarm clock on the bedside table.

3.30am. Who was at her door at this time? If it was Maxwell again coming to tell her his new book idea, he would have another thing coming. 

She stumbled through the dark and unlocked her door to find Drake standing at the threshold.

Standing being a loose term. ‘Swaying’ seemed more apt. His eyes were bloodshot and red rimmed. His hair was ruffled and he was wearing a white t-shirt with check pyjama bottoms. He looked like he hadn’t had much sleep. He stank of whiskey. 

‘Drake?’

He pushed past her and practically fell into the room. He nearly knocked over the bedside lamp and cursed as he managed to catch it. ‘Fuck, sorry..’

His voice was slurred. He turned to face her and Camille waited to see what he was going to say. Like, why was he here?

‘We gotta talk,’ he said, his voice thick. ‘Bout ‘portant stuff.’

Camille frowned. ‘Important stuff?’

Drake nodded furiously. ‘Very important stuff.’

Camille wrung her hands together. ‘You’ve been drinking,’ she said softly. ‘Maybe go to sleep? We can talk in the morning-’

‘NO WE TALK NOW!’ Drake hollered, exasperation flooding his voice. ‘Now! It’s important.’

Camille sighed. ‘Okay. What do you want to talk about?’

Drake looked like he was bracing himself. He raised a finger in the air, swaying like a palm tree in the breeze, and was about to speak when his face suddenly turned green and he dry heaved.

Camille was alert instantly. ‘Drake? You okay?’

Drake shook his head, clapping his hand to his mouth. ‘Gonna be sick..’

Camille opened the door to the en-suite and pulled Drake inside. He fell to his knees and positioned himself over the toilet bowl, emptying the contents of his stomach. His fingers clenched the toilet rim as he threw up. 

Camille grabbed a flannel and poured it under the cold tap. Gently, she crouched down beside him and placed the flannel on his forehead that was beaded with sweat. ‘Shh Drake, it’s okay,’ she whispered, rubbing his back. She could feel his muscles tense as he heaved. 

‘Oh god, this is embarrassing,’ Drake groaned, before vomiting again. Camille smiled despite herself and continued to rub his back. 

‘We’ve all been there, Walker,’ she told him. ‘You’re human like the rest of us.’

Drake responded by throwing up again.

As she watched him, she felt that familiar sense of protectiveness for him. This was the Drake nobody else but her got to see. Granted, he was vomiting right now, but he was vulnerable. Why had he drank so much tonight? Why had he turned up at her door? What did he want to talk about? 

Was it about their friendship, to give it a loose name?

Or did he know she liked him? Like, really liked him?

Did he know she thought about him all the time and wanted to quit the competition?

Or maybe he had just found a really good bottle of whiskey and had wanted to tell her.

Drake stopped throwing up and wiped his mouth with the flannel.

‘Sorry..’ he muttered.

‘It’s okay. Can you stand?’

Drake nodded and pulled himself up. He promptly fell against the sink, making Camille reach out to grab him.  

‘Let’s get you to bed,’ she said, taking him by the arm. He leaned on her as she led him to her bed. 

‘No no, not your bed!’ he protested. ‘No-’

‘I’m not sending you back to your room where you may vomit in your sleep,’ Camille interrupted. ‘You’re staying with me tonight and that’s final.’

Drake wrinkled his nose. ‘Jesus, Montespan, you’re bossy.’

*************************************************************************

Camille curled up on her side and closed her eyes. She felt Drake roll over and his arm went around her body, pulling her in close. The gesture was intimate and very un-Drakelike. Confused, Camille turned to ask him if he was feeling alright. 

But he was asleep. 

He looked content and untroubled and for that reason, Camille didn’t wake him. She rolled back over and let him spoon her, eventually falling asleep herself.

[konako]

Hallo, good morning, good afternoon, good evening, whatever. Do you want to cry and scream a bit? Because, well, you made me think of all the Red ships all at once. Including the minor ones like Red Swan. And then I had to think about a world where they all happened.

And it’s funny how depending on the genre you’re in, the same situation can be so wildly different. Because at first I giggled, since I thought about it as a comedy. Like when Snow has calmed down that Ruby had sex with Emma, she’s also “well, I mean, if my daughter has to have sex with someone… at least I know it’s someone who… well, can take care of her…. like *that* and makes sure it is actually pretty damn fun”. And they compare notes and omg Red is so good at finding all their weak spots. It’s not like she has this playbook she uses on all of them, oh no, every seduction is personalized. Damn, that’s sexy.

But what if this is actually the greatest tragedy of Red’s life?! Hm? HMMM??? Wanna think about that?!

Because Red’s first kiss is with Peter. And she has all these fantasies about the one true love and running away with him and building a life and finding happiness. Because True Love and Happiness are THE biggest trademarks in the Enchanted Forest.

Yep, well, so that didn’t happen. She eats him. Oops. At least she is running away from home. But with Snow. Whom she crushes on. HARD. And there are nights they snuggle up. And okay, some kisses and all. Wow, even more. Guess this is the sinful lifestyle Granny talked about. She didn’t mention that this was fun! They never define what they have, but it makes them feel good.

But it ends when Charming enters the picture. Red isn’t actually jealous or truly hurt. It stings a bit having her life changed, but there is war and she is here for Snow. And her shot at happiness is something to fight for. (Red’s is dead, right?)

Then they are cursed and Ruby’s existence revolves around everybody calling her a slut - including Granny - because, yeah, okay, her clothes are provocative, she likes her boobs and cleavage and heavy make-up and flirting and all the attention. But there is never a relationship or anything. Ruby wants to leave town one day to find that. There is nobody really interesting enough for her here.

And when the curse does break, wow, what whiplash. Her style changes a bit. Dark, heavy, layers, more covered up, but not hiding all her curves. And she has to get used to the wolf all over, but omg isn’t Belle the sweetest darling? Who herself is trying to get over a bad relationship. Gold… pffffffff….. so Ruby and Belle get very close. It’s nice. Awkward dates in the library they keep calling “just hanging out”. The first tentative kiss while walking through the park at night, because there’s a meteor shower. And Ruby wishes to freeze this frame.

But wow, who could’ve known, Gold does change. He does noble shit, sacrificing his power. And Belle is so happy for him. What could Ruby do except to push Belle towards the happy ending the fairy tales promised her. When her beast can be free. Because surely she wasn’t the right beast, her curse is permanent, no kiss can take the wolf away (not that she really wants to).

Red’s shot at her happy ending is dead. There is no one true love. There’s only the distant memory of a very random hook-up she had with Emma during the curse and now they never speak about that, because it would be too awkward if Snow knew. Yet, such a random hook-up might help her get over losing Belle. (She was never hers anyway, it was spelt out from the start, right?)

And that is how she finds herself nursing a drink on the porch of the B&B, when Regina walks by. She is upset after an argument with the Charmings and tries to walk it off, instead of just poofing back home. A bit afraid she might crash her car. Ruby catcalls her and an empty bottle of scotch and an hour later they have raw hate sex upstairs.

Regina understands. Fuck, this whole thing started because Daniel died. Regina’s big true love died and everybody had to pay the price. Ruby feels pity, because Regina didn’t have those blissful years of forgetting it all. So she gives her a few moments of shutting her brain off due to orgasms. It’s such an unhealthy coping mechanism.

So they break it off, because they both get a bit too lost in this. Too much pain and misery and using each other. And Regina is trying to be better. To be part of a family. Ruby can’t keep calling in the middle of the night, climbing through Regina’s window and fucking her unconscious.

There is no place for Ruby to go. Whatever she has lost, it isn’t here. And she says tearful goodbyes without any kisses and months later Mulan rescues her. Oh Mulan, that beautiful hurt soul. Ruby talks herself into needing a wolf pack and she brings Mulan along, because that girl needs a purpose just as much.

It’s not as tragic as it is with Regina, because nobody died. But the night when Mulan finally confesses that her heart broke because of Aurora, Ruby holds her for hours and lets her cry. Mulan carries this weird sense of shame and Ruby could never be more tender than she is when she spoons up behind Mulan, gently stroking her arms, her stomache, just showing that human touch can be so wonderful. And never before has she so directly asked permission to kiss someone. And it’s amazing when Mulan says yes.

But there is this problem. What even are they doing? They haven’t found werewolves. Nowhere close to a lead. Mulan has her own home that she has been avoiding for so long. The land they are currently in is foreign to them both. They long for a place to settle, but both are incapable of forming roots. They just don’t know how and they are alone out here, even if they are together. It’s so scary. Mulan seemed a bit happier in Dun'broch, Merida might have a place. Ruby is still too mad at the witch to follow.

Red killed Peter. And in fairy tales there is only one true love. She never had a chance… right?

[francesderwent]

are there are songs from reputation that you think work really well for delena?

A WONDERFUL question, anon!!!  I went slightly overboard.  In my defense, the intersection of Taylor and TVD is one of my great loves.

Firstly: reputation as an album has its own, overall story arc, which fits Delena pretty neatly!  Just as reputation begins with the very rock bottom, and has to work its way upwards to the happily-ever-after which is truly earned because it’s found where there seems to be no hope – so, too, Damon and Elena meet each other in each of their darkest moments.  Damon has lost and been betrayed by Katherine, Elena is still devastated by her parents’ death.  Damon is distanced from his humanity; Elena is far from her true magnetically charismatic self.   But they see and recognize each other, even through their pain.  And they love each other.  They find peace together, in the midst of all the darkness and craziness and people insisting it can never work.  

That said, there are some individual songs that really scream “DELENA”

“…ready for it?” is the “it is right, just not right now” of songs.  As such, it is more from Damon’s perspective than Elena’s – as soon as Elena figures out “I know I’m gonna be with you” she does not “take her time,” she makes the jump straight from 0 to 100.  Also, the line “in the middle of the night in my dreams, you should see the things we do, baby”, paired with the restraint of the next line insisting on taking time, is a little reminiscent of Friday Night Bites, wherein Damon says he’s going to sneak into the Gilbert house in the middle of the night and do with little cheerleader Elena whatever he wants…and then he breaks in and just tenderly watches her sleep.    

“End Game” has three perspectives, so if you squint I think it can be about the love triangle: Damon proclaims, “I got a bad boy persona, that’s what they like / you love it, I love it too cause you my type / you hold me down and I protect you with my life”.  Stefan’s verse is both a little gentler and a little more cautious: “For all your beautiful traits and the way you do it with ease / for all my flaws, paranoia, and insecurities / I made mistakes and made some choices that’s hard to deny…I’ve passed days without fun, this endgame is the one”.  (Bonus points for “it’s easier to ignore it, believe me, ” because Stefan is King of Denial.)  And finally, we find Elena’s perspective in the bridge: “I don’t wanna be just another ex-love you don’t wanna see / I don’t wanna miss you like the other girls do.” She doesn’t want to lose either of them – but it’s the one who “calls my bluff on all my usual tricks” that she eventually chooses.

“I Did Something Bad” is not a Delena song. I’d posit that the first verse is Katherine and the second verse is Rebekah.

“Don’t Blame Me” is more of a Damon/Katherine song, but there’s something kind of charming about imagining a Damon in-love-with-Elena saying “don’t blame me, love made me crazy” when he’s accused of doing something nice or self-sacrificial.

“Delicate” reminds me a lot of pre-relationship s4 Delena, when Elena has just turned and is most self-conscious about who she is and how she’s perceived by her friends and family.  Damon looks at her and sees not a problem to be fixed, but the woman he loves, the most alive he’s ever seen her.  Also “sometimes when I look in your eyes, I pretend you’re mine, all the damn time” is a big time Delena mood.

“Look What You Made Me Do” is sort of the universal humanity-switch song.

“So It Goes” is one of Taylor’s saddest songs, tbh, because the phrase “so it goes” expresses a kind of determined inevitability. And in the past – in “Style” and in “You Are In Love” – she’s used the phrase to describe the way that relationships progress, how things fall into place despite difficulties.  Even though he’s been out and about with other girls, they fall back together because they can’t stop thinking about each other.  Relationships that start with one look in a dark room progress inevitably to pictures kept in an office downtown.  In 1989 particularly, Taylor insists stubbornly that as long as you have the courage to stay, things can work out.  As long as nobody leaves, things move along a set pathway: so it goes.  But with “So It Goes”, the track, what happens inevitably isn’t staying together, it’s not the relationship growing closer and more real.  It’s falling together and falling apart, and “doing a number” on each other.  What’s fated is the whole progression of believing that you’ve found something to keep, and then finding it’s just another thing to lose.  Destiny becomes fatalism.  And this, long story short, is pretty s5 delena.  For a moment, it looks like the love that pushed them both to be better versions of themselves is just going to twist and fall apart, like everything else that’s disappointed them in the past.  The magnetism and chemistry is still there - “'cause we break down a little, but when I get you alone, it’s so simple” – but now it looks like it could be leading them to their doom.  

“Gorgeous” fits pretty neatly into s3 Delena, particularly that one time when Damon is distracting Rebekah and Elena is distracting Stefan and they’re both mad about it.  Also, “you should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in a darkened room” is CLEARLY the hand-holding in the motel-room-of-sexual-tension, and the consequence is making out on the ice machine and embarrassing Jeremy.

“Getaway Car” is not a Delena song, as it is pretty clearly a Katherine song: “us traitors never win…that was the last time you ever saw me”.  But it does kind of describe the season 3 finale moment when Elena says she picks Stefan, “but maybe if we had met first…”  She was the first to leave, because she was thinking of the place where they first met – but she was wrong about where they first met, and that changed the whole arc of the story.

“King of My Heart” is a nice counter-point to “…ready for it?”, encapsulating how as soon as Elena realizes she loves Damon, she is “all at once” totally confident, totally committed, all-in.  “Your love is a secret I’m hoping, dreaming, dying to keep” is very Delena, as is “is this the end of all the endings? my broken bones are mending”.  “Baby, all at once, this is enough.”

“Dancing With Our Hands Tied” is another s4-5 early relationship fate-fighting bop.  “I’d kiss you as the lights went out, swaying as the room burned down, I’d hold you as the water rushes in if I could dance with you again” particularly reminds me of “I wanted to dance with you today”.

“Dress” is THE Delena song, because everyone thinks it’s just about sex - but it’s about someone seeing who you are, and about belonging to someone so deeply that it’s written all over you.  It’s about all the things which define you suddenly having a new meaning because of how truly you know you are loved.  “Everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing” = “What do they know about us?”.  “Even in my worst times, you could see the best of me” = “I like you now, just the way that you are.”  She doesn’t?? want him like a best friend????

“This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things” is a pretty great anthem for Damon “the fun brother” Salvatore and Elena “just as crazy as me” Gilbert.  Y’all know I love forgiveness and believe it is the truest kind of strength, but Elena and Damon both have petty sides, for sure.  This song is the moment where Elena walks in on Damon and the boys playing a drinking game to celebrate Katherine’s demise, and she says if anyone’s going to drink to it, she is.

“Call It What You Want” feels like a mid-s6 song to me, before Elena’s gotten her memories back, but when she’s beginning to realize just how lucky she is to have Damon back.  She doesn’t fully understand it yet – “call it what you want” – but she knows somehow that despite everything, this is where she belongs: “And I know I make the same mistakes, every time / bridges burn I never learn / at least I did one thing right.”  “You don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me” marks the decision to become human together.

“New Year’s Day” is sort of the perfect song for all the bookends of Damon and Elena’s story.  First, “there’s glitter on the floor after the party…you and me from the night before”: her eighteenth birthday party, the first time she realized she loved him.  “I stay when you’re lost and I’m scared and you’re turning away”: no matter what, they always survive. “I want your midnights”: the epic moments, the night of Miss Mystic Falls, the night at the motel, the night of the meteor shower thunderstorm – “but I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year’s day”: the everyday moments, cooking and sitting together on the sofa and going to parent-teacher conferences.  But midnight and new years day also symbolize the wild, powerful, heightened life of immortality and their peaceful, homey life with their family.  The song ends on “there’s glitter on the floor after the party…you and me forevermore”: Alaric and Jo’s wedding, when they decided they’re going to get married and be human together.

[elisaphoenix13]

Then And Now

Scott had come a long way from having a crush on Stephen. At the time, he wasn't sure why he liked the sorcerer but Tony was probably right when he said that Scott liked the Mama Bear side of him. It was most of the reason at least. Stephen's attractiveness and sex appeal was nothing to sneeze at, but Scott wasn't a homewrecker. Yes, he flirted, but it was in good fun.

As time passed though, Scott started to get depressed. Everyone had a special someone or a friend they preferred to hang out with, but he didn't have anyone. He felt like an outsider. Drinking nights were the only positive times with the participating members but even that started to lose its appeal over time. He was actually considering moving out of the tower and retiring from the Avengers after the battle with Thanos because he was convinced they didn't really need him.

Then Quill came. Tony stuck the spaceman with him and Cassie and that was the end of it. Scott didn't really mind. Helping Quill adjust to a more advanced Earth would be a distraction from his depression and loneliness...but he didn't realize how true that statement would be. Scott was at a point in his life where Cassie was really the only thing keeping him going. His marriage with Maggie failed, the budding relationship with Hope shriveled up before it really got anywhere because it never really felt right...Scott was lonely. He lived in a tower full of people but he never really got on with them like they did with others.

Quill was a breath of fresh air. He liked quite a few of the same things Scott did. He became Scott's friend. His best friend. He finally had a preferred someone and that was only the beginning. The pirate continued to crash through his life like a bull in a china shop and turned his world upside down. They laughed over their discovery of Quill's inability to cook with the stove or the oven, they danced like nobody's business in the most ridiculous ways when they got distracted from cleaning their floor, and Quill was even sweet to Cassie. So Scott decided to stay. Living with the Avengers was bearable with Quill around and they were even great battle partners.

Then something changed. Scott couldn't say when, but touches started to feel more intimate. One morning, Quill placed his hand on Scott's shoulder as he slipped behind him in the kitchen. Something he always did because the guy was huge, and it was just his way of silently letting Scott know that he was behind him so he didn't accidently turn and run into him. That time though, the touch sent not only goosebumps down his arm, but also shivers up his spine. Then they were told to get Quill some earth appropriate clothes, so they went to a decently priced store to figure out the pirate's style and then stocking him up on said style. The first time Quill came out of the fitting room with a tight fitting t-shirt that hugged every muscle, Scott's mind short-circuited. He just stared like a dumbass until Quill said his name for...what? The fifth time?

"Scott."

The ex-con blinks. "What?" He asks stupidly.

"Does it look that bad?"

"Nonono. It's fine!"

Quill gave him a weird look before shrugging and returning to the fitting room to change back into his own clothes. Scott hadn't been the only one to stare at Quill either and that had his depression coming back in waves. Quill was way out of his league and he could have anyone he wanted-

Wait.

Was he crushing on Quill?

He had to be. The usual touches suddenly had him shivering, he balked the first time he saw Quill without a shirt on, and his mouth even went dry as he watched the man work out down on the training floor. Something they also did together until it suddenly was a lot more appealing than it used to be. Scott didn't get much working out done like he used to. Quill was a distraction.

That thought haunted him for the rest of the day when they got back to the tower. Scott was crushing on Quill now, but even if he wasn't in a relationship, he could simply wink at someone and have them falling to their knees. Hell, that's what happened with him. Scott went from liking a married man that mothered all of the kids and practically parented the Avengers, to drooling over a man from space. A man bigger than him, bigger than Stephen, bigger than everyone (except Thor; but they were pretty closely matched), and all Scott could think now was please touch me more. Not only that, he felt safe around Quill. He provided the security that Scott didn't even know he wanted until he had it.

Maybe that's how it started. Their first mission together. There was a moment that Scott was being targeted by their enemy and Quill had tackled him out of the way just before he was shot. They went tumbling to the ground, but despite having his helmet on, Quill still held his head close until they came to a stop. After shooting the enemy that shot at Scott, he hovered over the younger man and made sure he was alright before they leapt back into battle. Then the whole fiasco with Quill's celestial powers reawakening happened and he admitted that seeing Scott hurt was his trigger.

Then Quill fucking kissed him.

It would be an understatement to say that Scott was elated after that. The touches came more often. They even lingered and he was pretty sure he was going to spontaneously combust on the spot every time Quill placed a hand on his hip and kept it there. Even now he still got that feeling. He drank in the attention like a dehydrated man, and Quill was happy to smother him with it. Their relationship escalated quickly but it had never felt so right. Scott felt more alive than he had in years. It was like they had known each other for years instead of months.

When Quill started to get protective of Cassie, Scott was gone for him. He was in love.

Then Scott's mind derailed again and pretty much stayed off the tracks for a while because he was desperate to know what the god was packing. Every time he saw Quill with his shirt off, he gaze flickered just a little lower before he forced his gaze back up to Quill's face who only smirked. Scott didn't have to wait much longer after that. The sex was mind-blowing and he found out that he loved being held. He craved it. Quill treated him like he was the most important thing in the universe, and Scott reveled in it.

Quill moved into his room and one night, Scott woke up from a nightmare. He made sure to move away from the pirate before sitting up on the side of the bed to calm himself, but to his surprise, a strong arm pulled him back down and against Quill's chest. The man proceeded to whisper sweet nothing's into Scott's ear until he relaxed and fell back asleep, and kept his hold on him for the rest of the night. Scott woke in the morning still secure against Quill, and was content to listen to him snore. It couldn't be called snoring though since he just sounded like an overgrown purring cat. Scott loved it though.

Quill had to leave for space for a few weeks to help the Guardians with a job, and it was the first time he left since they started their relationship. Days passed, and even though Scott knew there was no accurate time that Quill came back, a small part of his mind nagged that this was it. Maybe he was just a fling and Quill would stay in space and find someone much more appealing than Scott. That small part grew bigger and bigger the longer Quill was away, and it started to affect him during missions. He was distracted. He turned into a target for enemies because his distraction portrayed him as one of the weak links, so he was attacked. Thrown against a building. Scott scrambled to bolt from his approaching attacker, but being thrown against a building had his body screaming at him to sit still, so he could do nothing but sit and wait for his demise. Everyone else was too busy to help him.

But just as his attacker got close and Scott closed his eyes as he awaited the next attack, a bright light came down from the sky and hit the ground between him and the enemy. Scott's eyes widen in surprise when Quill whips out his guns and shoots not only the enemy in front of them, but also any nearby so that when he finally turns to Scott with his eyes blazing with galaxy colors, he can take some time to properly look him over.

"...you were gone longer than usual." Scott finally says and the galaxy colors in Quill's eyes fade back to his normal green irises.

"Scott." He says as he crouches down and reaches forward to make Scott's helmet fall back. "I will always come back for you."

Then, of course, Quill had to ruin the moment.

"I mean, I just came down like a damn meteor so if that doesn't mean anything then I don't know what does."

Scott actually laughed. "Here I thought I ruined the moments."

"Oh you definitely do...but I've been known to have my moments too." Quill admits as he stands back up and holds out his hand. "At least with you we can laugh about it."

Wasn't that the truth. Scott let his celestial boyfriend help him back to his feet before the god promptly called on his powers to use against their enemy. When Quill was like this, only Scott could fight side by side with him without the worry of being hurt, because they discovered that Scott was the only one that could bring Quill out of his trance. Because Scott wasn't viewed as a threat by the god in Quill. In the future, they would find out that Cassie wasn't viewed as a threat either.

They fought side by side. Scott calmed him and brought him out of his trance after the battle was over, and then they went home. When Quill held him that night, that was when Scott realized that home was with Quill. Right here in his arms. Not the tower, but Quill. He was safety...love...family. Everything a home should be. Scott didn't know what he would do without it. He was loved. He was wanted.

It was the best thing in the universe.

[iwannawritepls]

Le Morte d’Arthur Thoughts P1

I’m lending Les Mis to a friend so here’s the first 10 chapters of Le Morte:

Book One

Chapter One

thats a really long chapter title wowzer

Cornwall has some really good folklore 

i should mention that i kinda knows what happens in these chapeters because i read teh first 7 about two years ago 

Boo come ‘round for dinner. Bring your wife :)

He wants to have sex with another mans wife oh nonono

Igraine is a good wife. Loyal wife. Guinevere’s foil…?

What is this logic? ‘If he doesn’t come round for dinner go to war with him?’ Whattt

The castle he’s in is…terrible…(the castle was called Terrabil)

He loves her so much that he’s sick

Or…or you’re just sick because this is medieval England and you drank some bad water?

‘You’re looking for Merlin? I’m Merlin!!’

Chapter Two

Another long title. I love that.

Gat Arthur. I love old English Oml

He didn’t ask what he wanted in return before he swore to give him anything he wanted? Rookie move.

What are you a fairy-tale witch?

Casual murder

…that’s kinda…ultra-violence...

3 hours after his death man Wowzer

Get thee to a nunnery!!!

Necromancy? Like...bringing the dead back? or necromancy like just magic?

Chapter Three

Toxic man

No hun you don’t have to sleep with him because he’s your husband

X to doubt

He’ll put his own kid aside and have his wife feed Arthur leaving Kay to be ignored…this is why Edmund was all bitter in King Lear

At least he didn’t say no to handing the kid over. It could’ve been worse

Chapter Four

Good. Get sick. I hate you.

And then and then and then and then

Good get sick again.

Let him dieeeee

His ghost just yeeted out of his body

Uther is dead at lasttttttt

Chapter Five

The archbishop of Canterbury (current) looks like that once science teacher who we all know was bullied in school and tried to be hip and down with the kids, but you just end up kinda hating him.

Was the sword was sent by god? Or by Merlin? Or what? Where did the sword come from? Did it just fall out of the sky like a meteor? The sword is actually a parasitic alien life form

God damn it Kay

Did nobody tell Arthur what this alien sword is?

That’s just bad planning. No knights guarding the sword when you said 10 would at all times? Really?

Parasite sword has found its host

‘He handled the sword by the handles’ good! Don’t handle a sword by the blade that’s how you lose fingers

Tom! New line for new speaker! At least use some damn speech marks I’m so confused

Oof imagine failing. I could pull the parasite sword out of the stone you just need to put salt on it. It’ll shrivel up like a leech

Chapter Six

Did Ector never figure out this Arthur was Uthers son? He got loads of stuff from uther right around the time that he got the baby and the baby was brought in a golden cloth and Oml like surely he knew!

Nobody: Ector: You’re adopted

Make my son one of the most important and influential positions in your court is all I ask

There’s a mix of Celtic and Christian holidays here. Candlemas and Christmas which is super interesting from a studying point of view because they’re coexisting and not clashing

Chapter six the chapter where Arthur pulls the sword out the anvil twelve thousand times

Ulfus lived!!

Chapter Seven

Even the poor are bored of watching Arthur pull the sword form the anvil

I’m glad to know that the rich have been self-serving throughout history. Like bacteria they scarcely evolve over time

What reason do you have to invade Scotland Arthur? What did the Scottish ever do to you?

What did Wales ever do to you. Next thing it’s gonna be Ireland.

Chapter Eight

The king of England lives in Wales nowwww (that’s just where he lives) this isn’t the Byzantine empire Arthur! Who do you think you are? Constantine?

That’s a threat

This reminds me of that scene from brave where they’re all racing each other on the boats to be the  first ones to land

Oof man rude. We won’t accept your gifts because you don’t have a beard!

what did Ireland do to you? Also was Tom a magician because he somehow knew England had all of them under their control for a hot minute

Whether they will or nill

Chapter Nine

Lot asks a question and Merlin Yeets out. Same tho

4 took on 300…Wowzer

Oh no. Not the horse. Whoops. I am so so very sad

His bling was so bright it blinded people

Skedadled

Chapter Ten

Oh he moved back to London cool cool

Wait I thought there were only 3 kings at war with him not 6

They’re bad barons then they can’t do the one thing they’re supposed to do

What are the rules for asking Merlin what to do? Why doesn’t everyone just ask Merlin? Like Arthur just asks him whenever so what are the rules?

Wow they’re getting help from the French???????? William the conqueror would be…not pleased tbh cus Normandy and France were not good friends for a hot minute

Did they just not know that there were kings outside of England?

What the fuck why are they about to get killed????

Oh that’s why

Smote what a great word

We want you to declare war on like 6 kings ‘that sounds like a reason to partyyyy’

Archbishops of Canterbury makes his return

Wow what a great time they must have had before going to war

[relatively--unknown]

“This time it’s gonna be different.”  

The statement was delivered with so much forced confidence that even I believed it.

Heero was leaning against the far wall of our shared living room, his arms tightly coiled across his chest, staring at me with his usual icy impassiveness.  If I hadn’t slept with the guy the night before, I woulda thought that he was an android. However, I knew for a fact that he was definitely flesh and blood, with all of the usual human functions, textures, and tastes.

“Somehow I doubt that,” he mumbled and performed an impressive eye roll.

“You’ve gotta give me a chance.  I know I fucked up… a couple of times … but you know I’m good for it.  Just give me another chance. The truth is I need ya. Your support…” I was rambling.  I didn’t know any other way to convince him other than to beg, which had worked in the past so why not toss that card into the game again?  Heero was a sucker for sympathy and pathetic pleading.

He was staring at me.  I frowned and looked away to study my hands, which at this point were grimy from wrenchin’ on a few bikes for the neighborhood kids.  Always pro bono.

I needed the money but I couldn’t take cash from kids.  However, my bike shop was sufferin’. Business was bad and he knew it, but I could tell from his hesitation and the lack of a snarky rebuttal that he was at least considering it.

I hated asking him for money.  Hell, I hated asking anyone for anything, but I didn’t know where else to turn.  Unlike other twenty-somethings my age, I had no credit to speak of, and no proper documentation to prove my date of birth and all of that bureaucratic bullshit.  Long story short, I went to the bank for a loan and they tossed me out so fast my ass barely left an imprint in that fuckin’ fancy leather chair. ‘ We can’t lend to a nobody,’  the prick behind the desk had grumbled at me.  I felt judged, stupid, foolish. Didn’t this guy know who I was ?  I wanted to toss that shit all into his face.

“Hey, buddy, I saved the damn planet once!”   “You see those universal credits you’re peddlin’? Yeah, wouldn’t be using Earth-Sphere currency if it wasn’t for me and my friends!”

But shit.  What’s the use?  Even without the gag order we all got restraining us from telling anyone of our involvement during Operation Meteor or the Eve Wars people still wouldn’t trust me.  Judgemental assholes, they see that you’re not wearing a three-piece suit and a tie and automatically think you’re scum. A workin’ man can’t go into a bank, they see your calluses and grease-stained hands and immediately write ya off.  

‘You’re twenty-five years old, with no formal education, work experience, family references or ties?  You want a loan for a bicycle shop? You’re a piece of shit, get outta here. ’

Yep.  I could tell by the face of that overstuffed, stiff suit that he had written me off the moment I walked into that bank.

So here I was, again, askin’ Heero for a few bucks to keep my shop open.  Just to make ends meet, until business picks up.

If it ever picked up.

L1 Colony B212 had gotten the bright idea to use all of their taxpayer money to upgrade the public transit system, which was all fine and dandy for the jerks working uptown who could spare a credit or two every day to ride the maglev, but for the rest of us down in the fabrication sector we had to rely on gettin’ around on our own.  They replaced the bike lanes on the streets with more train lines, which meant people couldn’t use their bikes.

Which meant fewer bicycle purchases and repairs.  Business tanked a month later.

I had been tryin’ everything to boost business.  Promotions, advertising. I had Hilde cyclin’ around the entire colony at all hours draggin’ banners and signs on a small trailer advertising the place.  Heero’s last loan had gone to more ads on the colony Comunet, emails, and even posters at the spaceport. Nothin’ had worked. Now I was gettin’ desperate.  

Howard had suggested that I host an event.  A bike race. The guy is a fuckin’ genius.

So the L1 Metric Century was born.  It was gonna be 62 miles of pure sex on wheels.  Okay, so bike races aren’t that hot or interesting compared to the fancy shuttlecraft orbital dives goin’ on in the Earth Sphere but hell, I’m hopin’ the nostalgia freaks will buy into it.  I just need some money to get the event off of the ground.

I had explained it all to Heero, who hadn’t said much while I ranted and raved my intentions and plans to him.  Now all I could do was wait for his judgment and to see if he’d be willing to invest in my scheme.

“Think about it,” I said quickly, seeing that he wasn’t entirely convinced.  “It would be a nice cultural event for the colony. If it takes off people from other colonies and Earth could come and compete and then people will come to my shop for equipment for conditionin’, and you will make your money back plus some.”  He was avoiding makin’ eye contact with me. Not a good sign.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.  “Okay, fine, I’ll suck your dick anytime you want.”  

I was joking.

Was I joking?

Okay, so maybe I wasn't joking.

He finally looked up at me, his dark eyebrow quirked.  “That won’t be necessary.”

That wasn’t what he said the night before.  It was our first time. Wasn’t it any good? I mean, he was makin’ noises I had never heard him make before, but maybe he was fakin’ it to boost my ever dwindling ego.  

Such a good friend.

Whatever.  It didn’t matter.  At this point, he could call me fustilarian and sucker punch me in the gut (again) for all I cared.  I needed cash, and I had finally reached the deepest, darkest levels of desperation.   I would do anything at this point to save my shop; sell a kidney, give a few hand jobs, or even climb into a seven-ton robotic killing machine.  Whatever it took.

Heero had to know how much this means to me.  Though we never spoke about it openly, I know he feels the same as I do.  Finally, years after all the shit had hit the fan, things were beginning to be normal for us.

I felt normal at the shop, having a place to call my own, going numb with the everyday grind of opening shop, tinkering, turning the sign to 'CLOSED' every night.  It had become the new rhythm to my life, the thing that kept me busy, that made me sane.  I didn't have time to feel weird, to reflect on the fucked up crap of the past.  It was just me, a socket wrench and a room full of frames and wheels.  It was amazing how the simplest of machines had managed to placate me, to help me focus and heal.

Heero knew.  He had to.  Nobody understood me like he did.

"Fine," he murmured, shrugged his shoulder and raked his teeth across his lower lip, eyes narrowing as if he were about to say something else.  I waited for the other shoe to drop, for him to put terms or conditions on it or at least an exorbitant amount of interest of somethin'.

Nothing happened.  He pushed off of the wall and lumbered into his room without another word.  As his door closed every one of my tense muscles released and I collapsed onto the couch, my body forming a relieved and happily quivering puddle of goo.

I got my second chance, and this time I would make it work.

[canaryatlaw]

Alrighty, so today wasn't bad, pretty good really. My mood has legit been so much better, which makes me think the medication is really working, which I'm pretty freaking happy about. I had PT at 1:30, so I set my alarm for 12:45 and woke up at like, 12:40 lol. But I got ready and headed over there, had a pretty good session, and came back home. Once getting home I tried to get my laptop to cooperate to do the stupid online lessons for my legal profession class but it was being really dumb and I wasn't able to accomplish much so that was annoying. At 4:30 I left for school, when I was walking down Main Street in my neighborhood there was a little boy wearing a shirt that said "SWAT" on it and he was like, crouching behind a tree, and as I walked past him he threw out this little plastic grenade, and I just like, looked at it, looked at him, and then made a big explosion sound and threw myself a couple feet. He had the cutest smile on his face, so precious. Got to school without incident, before class I was talking to my prof a bit about the child welfare system and if it's actually possible to have a well-functioning system because of all the competing interests that need to be honored. As we went through class she also spoke about litigation not always being the best way to solve social problems, like how there was a movement to model poverty law reform around the civil rights movement, but the majority of it just failed to effectuate any actual change, so that was definitely something for me to think about. Of course that doesn't limit the things lawyers can do in such situations, it's just about exploring more options. We had read one case that was from 1968 out of Alabama dealing with a welfare program based around "needy children", defining it as one or both parents being absent and not contributing to the child's life (there was an income test for the other parent too, but that's not important at the moment). The issue was that Alabama had changed the meaning of the word "parent" to include what they called "substitute fathers", that is, anyone who was cohabiting with the mother, or really just having sex with her because they didn't really have to even live there, just stop in on occasion, and whether they actually contributed to the family financially was completely irrelevant, so basically if Mom had a boyfriend all of her kids were cut off from the funding. Does that make you really fucking angry? Because it made me really fucking angry. Nobody in this whole scheme actually gives a damn about the kids, it's all about controlling the sex lives of (mostly black) women and pressing morality as a reasoning for laws, and all it does is hurt the children, and this is exactly the kind of shit I want to fight against. So that got me a bit fired up, in case you couldn't tell lol. Came home afterwards, and watched one episode of Smallville, which was the one with the flashbacks to Lex and Oliver's high school days (where Lex is played by a very little and adorable Lucas Grabeel) and then their present day situation with someone out to get them. That was probably the most far-fetched of the meteor Rock powers they have in the show, but whatever. And then I got ready for bed and this is long enough, I want to sleep now. Goodnight dolls. Stay awesome.