#and carrie in the scene at the gift place ! the shirt and bag and pants gimeeee!

[squishious]

four weddings and a funeral is am movie full of people who's gender i want to steal

[ladamedusoif]

Cookies (Tim Rockford X F!Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 26

Pairing: Tim Rockford x F!Reader

Word Count: 1455

Rating: Explicit; 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Established relationship (Reader is Tim’s wife); workplace sex; fingering; unprotected but safe PiV sex (Reader is on birth control); no use of Y/N; no physical descriptions of Reader; strong language; when we say “fuck the police” this is what we mean

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Pedro Boys Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist!

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Tim kisses you on the cheek as he heads down to the precinct on Christmas Eve, overcoat in hand.

“I hate leaving you all, baby, but…”

You wrap him in a tight embrace and return his kiss. “Tim, you’re a good man. I’m sure Corinna appreciates you taking the Christmas Eve cover, so she can be at home for her baby’s first Christmas.”

Your husband’s ears pink up a little at your praise. “I guess. And older cops did it for us, too, when the kids were tiny.”

He looks over your shoulder into your mother’s kitchen, where your daughters are excitedly asking their grandma whether the Christmas cookies are cool enough to decorate. You turn and smile at the scene.

“I love you, Detective Rockford. We’ll save you some cookies. Come home safe.”

***

The cop at the front desk is thanking his lucky stars as he sips his umpteenth cup of filter coffee. It’s almost midnight on Christmas Eve, and - other than a couple of minor call-outs for the guys out in the patrol car to break up bar fights - he hasn’t had to book a single person into the cells.

It’s a goddamn Christmas miracle.

And then the door buzzes. He sighs in exasperation and checks the CCTV. A woman, wearing a winter hat and carrying a tote bag. He presses the button to let her in.

“Hello there, ma’am. Now, I have to warn you, as it’s Christmas Eve we don’t have a full complement of officers in tonight and - oh! Hi there, Mrs R!”

You smile as you take off your hat and scarf, and hand him a small tin. “Hey, Bryan. Tim in his office?”

“Sure is. Hey, these some of your famous cookies?”

You’re already climbing the stairs to your husband’s office. “Maybe. Open it and see if Santa thinks you’ve been a good cop this year.”

***

Tim’s at his desk, shirt sleeves rolled up and tie slightly loose, flipping through some papers with his glasses on. The desk lamp bathes him in a warm light, highlighting his handsome features, and you pause for a moment to take him in before you knock on the door.

He looks up in surprise before a broad smile spreads across his face. “Hello there, miss. What brings you to the precinct on a Christmas Eve?”

You carefully close the door and turn the little lock on the handle, before pulling down the blind. You reach into your bag and produce another cookie tin, sauntering over to Tim’s desk and placing it in front of him.

“So, everyone was tucked up in bed at home, and would you believe it? I met Santa Claus, leaving gifts for the girls.”

Your husband chuckles and pulls you onto his lap. “That so?”

You nod. “The man himself. And you know what he said?”

Tim shakes his head, eyes twinkling. You lean in and kiss him softly.

“He said that Tim Rockford had been a particularly good boy this year, and he should get an extra special gift.”

Tim’s eyes turn to the cookie tin. “The cookies?”

You shrug, reach for the tin, and open the lid. “You could say that, I guess. They’re part of the gift.”

He bursts out laughing when he looks inside and takes out a gingerbread man perfectly decorated to resemble - well, him. White shirt, black pants, dark hair and moustache, tie, and even a pair of shoulder holsters.

“Your handiwork?”

You throw your head back and laugh. “Damn right. Why wouldn’t I make cookies that look like the most delicious man I know?”

He eyes you up suspiciously, but a smile plays on his lips. “You said the cookies were part of the gift.”

You stand up and move his paperwork out of the way, clearing enough space on the desk so that you can sit up on it. “The other part is under my coat.”

Tim’s eyes widen as he reaches for the buttons on your knee-length woollen coat, unbuttoning them eagerly and pulling the coat open.

His mouth falls open. “Holy fuck, baby.”

“You like what you see?” You fight against all the anxieties and insecurities that haunt you about your body, focusing on the look of astonished desire that’s burning in your husband’s eyes.

Tim’s eyes roam over you, taking in the dark red bra and matching, high-waisted panties trimmed in black lace, the sheer black stockings. He carefully eases off your coat and throws it to one side, running his big hands gently over the soft skin of your shoulders as he slips down the straps of your bra.

“I love what I see.” His voice is a rapt whisper.

He slips his hands to your back and waist and pulls you tight to him as he kisses you deeply, moaning as you twine your fingers through his dark, grey-streaked curls. You bring your hands to his belt buckle, working it open and undoing his pants so you can palm his cock, already hardening under your touch.

Tim brings his mouth to the side of your neck and begins to softly bite and lick the sensitive skin, working his way down to your breasts as one hand holds you in place while the other tugs aside the lacy fabric that covers your pussy. “I fucking love what I see,” he grunts, pulling down the cups of your bra to expose your breasts. “I love you. My sexy fucking wife.”

You whine as two thick fingers trail across your folds before settling on your clit, working it steadily in the way only he knows. “I’m going to get you good and wet for me, my love,” Tim murmurs, encouraging you to lift your hips so he can ease off your panties.

“Mmmm… and then what are you going to do to me, Detective?”

He slips his fingers into your cunt, pulling a delighted gasp from you. “And then, Mrs Rockford, I plan on fucking you hard right here on this desk. But only if you come for me first.”

A hook of his fingers and you’re squealing with pleasure as Tim spreads you out in front of him, standing between your thighs as you continue to stroke his dick. He fucks you over and over with his fingers, watching you writhe and buck as you near your climax.

“C’mon, baby,” he whispers, eyes locked on yours. “You look so beautiful like this, all spread out and ready to come on my fingers. Can’t fuckin’ believe you’re mine, sometimes.” Your pussy tightens around him and he knows you’re about to come.

“Tim…Tim, fuck, I’m - oh, fuck, baby.” He keeps fingering you through the orgasm, sucking on your nipples as he extends the wave of pleasure running through you.

You reach up and undo his tie and unbutton his shirt, hitching up his under vest so you can feel the soft, warm skin of his belly against yours as he pushes himself inside you and begins to fuck you. You hitch up your legs around his waist to hold Tim in place, slipping your hands under his shirt and gripping his broad shoulders firmly as he takes you on his desk.

“Feel good?”

“Fucking incredible, Tim - you?”

He leans his head against your chest and flicks his tongue over your nipple. “Baby, you always feel amazing but this - fuck, this is so fuckin’ good. Feels so tight and wet for me. Listen to that.”

For a moment the only sound in the office is the lewd wetness, skin on skin, and your pants and moans.

“Can’t believe you did this for me, baby,” Tim grunts, speeding up his rhythm and making you whine, arching your back. “Came down here in nothing but lingerie, ready to fuck me…fuck, you’re incredible.”

You giggle a little. “Got lonely at home, my love. Needed to have my man.”

Tim’s faltering rhythm tells you he’s nearly there as he buries himself deeper inside you. “You’ve got him, baby. All yours. All…”

And he’s there, spilling inside you as he collapses on your chest.

***

Cleaned up but still a little dishevelled, you sit on the floor of the office and eat some of the cookies, accompanied by weak coffee.

In the distance, you can hear chimes signalling the hour.

“Hey. It’s midnight. Merry Christmas, Detective Rockford.”

Tim kisses you, tasting of ginger and sugar and spice and all things nice.

“Merry Christmas, Mrs Rockford. And thank you for my extra-special gift.”

[capsensislagamoprh]

Look. Depression, insomnia, and downstairs neighbors fighting at 6 am on the dot for two hours every day makes for a very s*tty sleep schedule. So I worked. Results? February’s first bag room of the month is ready. CRAPPY PICTURE TIME! Hold on to your snacks. I frikin tortured myself to make this oddly shaped pink horror. You’re gonna suffer with me. It’s gonna be a lot. The outside! Windows. Pocket windows for the changeable window scenes. Easy to store. Gold and red handles. Easy to grab and grip.

One hand lifting proof. This one is a touch heavy, so maybe carry it for your small being. Or if it’s for you, it ain’t no thing.

Simple tie strings. Easy open, easy close.

Okay, so hear me out. Floor underpinnings. Because the bag is oddly shaped, the floor needed underpinnings.

This is the actual floor. Opens up easy.

Slips right into place. Then you put on the actual floor. Push it into place, close the walls, tuck the pillars into the locking sockets, and...

Okay, let’s look at these window backgrounds. You can see the basic sky above. Now let's look at the Galaxy background.

Some enchanted forestry.

A mountainous scene. Of course, I did that stained-glass effect for the windows. Fantasy room? Mehbe.

Let’s address this. I only have so many doll parts. The skin tones don’t match. IGNORE THAT. I don’t know how to stain a vinyl body to match. I like her tanned. This is a rainbow high body with a Barbie head. I think a Skipper head would be more proportionate, but you know what? I kinda like it. Custom face up, hand made outfit. Shoes she can stand up in without a doll stand. Detailed accessories.

And I do love that hair! The pink shirt is actually a bodysuit. Got pants, or another bottom you want to put on? You can! Skirt matched with something else? You can! Necklace is also separate. I detailed a Barbie necklace into an original piece. Those earnings are ... sharable! With you! (Backs are in the tea pot.)

Her head is a little stiff, but the rest of her has that coveted Rainbow High flexibility. I think the head is stiff because it has an original neck peg set up... but I don’t know how to change that yet, so... SUFFAH!

These are the shoes I customed, detailed, and formed to allow the doll to stand up on their own. They will fit any Rainbow High with the healed feet.

Some details.

Yes, it’s time to look at details and interactions!

Wall on the left.

Wall on the right.

Lookin down to the middle with you!

Everything that comes with this set (doll and outfit included as well.) You got some plants, pillows, blanket/throw, books with actual words, tea set with snacks, teddy bear (legs and arms DO move), bouquet of roses and a gift. That holds a surprise gift for your doll inside. I will not open it. You want to see what it is? Buy the set and see for yourself. The seats open to hold it all. Just put it in, and pull the stuff out as you like.

And it all closes up into this tinny, eldritch horror.

Yes, you two can own this whole bag room and all its accessories. Just PM. Imma sew a bat.

[meetjosefa]

Happiness is an animated short film by Pat Kelly and Tom Caffey released on March 10, 2016.

The film started with an announcement from a train station. In most of the films, Trains can propel narratives forward and/or provides palpable stretches of suspense.

The scene the shift focus on a middle aged man waiting for a train. He was wearing a suit and tie, and carrying a brown suit case. This gives an idea that he is an office worker. It is an emotional scene, evident in the expression of the character as well as in the melancholic tune used in the background.

The man looks around and spotted an old man dressed like him – suit, tie, and suitcase. Based on how he reacted he seems unpleased for he can see his self in him. He took his phone out – which may be a reminder that he might be different. Displayed in his phone is his photo – young and fine – but it eventually turned into an old man, dressed like him, and still an office worker. This will mean that he will also grow old like the man he saw. He will have to deal the repetitive days of being a worker over and over again. He shook his head as a sign if disagreement. His expression then changed; determination is evident.

 From this, a series of differing scenarios are presented accompanied by a lively tune. First, there is a suitcase filled with close which is then carried by the man descending a plane. He is now dressed in a casual shirt and pants. This means that he is travelling. He is then having a relax morning – drinking coffee and reading some morning newspaper. The lively tune continues. From this and to the succeeding scenes, the man is living an ideal life everyone yearns for. The scene then shifted to two men doing sky diving which is evident in their blue and red overall suit and a parachute bag on their back. It is also evident based on how the wind blows against them, distorting their clothes, hair, and even their face. The scene then changed to him playing an online games – maybe a PS5 – and is enjoying the challenge and victory. He seemed to play all night for in the morning, he was sound asleep. The scene then shift into the man opening a cabinet. He found a box and an “old stuff” was written on it. It seems like this box hold a memory/ies that is stored for a long time. The man’s smile exudes a feeling of nostalgia. He opened the box and saw his old drawing reminding him of his childhood dream – a writer. Below it was a message from his dad. It seems like it is a gift for his birthday. He wrote “Don’t forget to live. Happy Birthday son. – Dad”. His dad probably saw his drawing for inside the box is a type writer – a tool certainly made for those who want to be a writer.  He took the typewriter out and started working. He placed a red mug, most certainly filled with coffee,  beside him which may mean he will be pulling an all-nighter. The scene then shifts to a bookstore. The excitedly enters, with head turned in all directions. But his gaze stopped in a book stand labeled as “New”. And there along with other publications is a book entitled “Haunting Dreams”. One can easily recognize that he is the author for his image sits on the cover page of the book. His excitement rose making him jump and shout in bliss. But then with his bold movement, he accidentally hit someone. It was a lady , dressed in gray, hair tied in bun, and carrying a book. It was an awkward meeting at first for they refuse to have their eyes met. The man’s face eventualky turned red with signifies attraction and a brewing romance. The lady then show no resistance for she chuckled in return. And its true! The scene then shifts to two people holding each others hand on top of a hill, enjoying the golden purple scenery of the sunset. The scene was oozing with hearts. They sat therr for a moment,  look into each others eyes, and eventually close the distance between them anticipating for a kiss.

But then before their lips met, the scene shifts again. The train arrives and the deafining screech of the train draws the man’s consciousness back to reality. He was an officeworker – dressed in suit and tie, and ia carrying a suitcase. The accompaniment also shifts back into an emotional melancholic tune. The man has this unpleasant reaction – brows furrowed and scowling- as he embark on the train.

In this film, the train does not serve its usual purpose which is to transport people, rather it is the persona’s consciousness that is being transported. From his ideal world – where he does everything he pleases and dreamed of – back to the his presented reality.

Happiness equates to satisfaction. The man is clearly not satisfied with the life he is now. He is full of what ifs, regrets, and unfulfilled dreams.  And so, he can only take pleasure in imagining these things on a distant horizon. But then reality has its way of coming back forcing us down unto life’s insipid scenario.

Nevertheless, one thing is for sure and everyone should understand this. You cannot appreciate the sun if there is no rain. You need to experience sadness for you to understand what real happiness is. If you want to live only by happiness, you can’t really understand life.

[dorimena]

𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖕𝖙.𝟏

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; monoma neito

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 5.1k of filth,

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; nsfw, Overstimulation, edging, dacryphilia, degradation/humilliation, cursing, cockwarming, crossdressing, school girl kink (?), mommy kink, pegging, cum play+eating, dom!fem reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; whiney Monoma, loud sex, Monoma in a skirt, soundproof dorms, mentions of other 1B characters, aged-up character, Monoma is 18 in this

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; this was meant to just be some long fic, but I find it easier to just divide it into 2 parts while I figure out how to write out the scene I actually wanted to get to. I got carried away. This is what I've been doing during holy week. My religious school would be ashamed of me. This has been proofread, but if there are still any mistakes, I apologize.

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦.; incomplete/in progress.

Monoma had a shit week.

It all started on Monday when his school pants ripped conveniently from the back as he bent down to pick up his fallen notebook. They didn’t even look like they would rip! So how did they...? All he could hear during his inner turmoil and growing embarrassment were murmurs of pity, whispers of curiosity, and his homeroom teacher calling his name countless times to send him back to the dorms to change. Permission slip in hand and underwear out, he silently nodded and made his out, all while ignoring a burning sensation in his eyes and sudden dryness in his throat.

(Walking out the doors with his blazer tied around his waist, he swore he heard a familiar giggle and mockery coming from a smart-mouthed girl.)

Tuesday came bulldozing so suddenly that it ran over him. Well, really it was Yaoyorozu’s canon that almost ran him over. 

The day, in general, was normal, none of his classmates made comments about the minor incident the day before, well, except for Y/N who asked if he sent his pants to be fixed or not. (He didn’t, so she demanded him to hand it over to her.) He didn’t go back to the dorms after their last class, since he has to carry out classroom cleaning duties after he accidentally pushed Bakugou into the mud last week. No, seriously, it was an accident. First off, he didn’t see the mud. Second off, he was messing around with Kaibara’s quirk, which spooked Nirengeki who was somehow walking close by to the hot-headed explosion man- and… well, Monoma mistook Bakugou for Honenuki. For some odd reason. How insulting to his intelligence and great memory skills.

So after such a tiring task of brooming, wiping, dusting, and inspecting, he expected to be knocked off his feet with whatever Kendo decided to cook for dinner, not Yaoyorozu’s canon. God, and he shrieked! Who fucking shrieks?! He’s 18, he’s not supposed to shriek! Unless you’re pegging him just right-  

Wednesday only sucked because you canceled your biweekly study session in favor of hanging out with the girls in 3A. Now, regardless of what people still say, he has matured and slowly grew out his competitiveness and “jealousy” over class A, and doesn’t really have much issue with most of them (mainly because Shinsou somehow helped him become more “friendly”). However, how dare you choose the girls over him! You’ve never done that. 

(And whether or not he was moody and pouty is just a hallucination of yours, he swears it.)

The only bad thing, if you could even call it that, that happened on Thursday was that it slipped his mind how much time he had left to use Tsuburaba’s quirk and lost against his good ol’ pal. 

Friday though… Friday was just really weird and he hated how it only felt weird for him. Maybe it’s pent up frustration with how the week went? Maybe it’s the pouty baby in him still being butthurt over Wednesday’s missed study date? Maybe it’s you staring at his legs and ass? Maybe it’s the way you look so delectable in your hero outfit? Maybe- well, now he was just overthinking it, and he rarely ever does! He was tempted on asking Shinsou to, y’know, brainwash him so he could forget this weird feeling of him feeling weird.

Now comes Saturday. 

Today is Saturday.

Today is 10:06 pm on a Saturday.

You’re over at his dorm for the already mentioned biweekly study date. He should feel happy, considering you brought over some snacks, ordered take-out from his favorite French restaurant, even played with his hair every time you guys had the 15-minute study break. 

But he’s not happy.  He’s not unhappy, but he isn’t happy? Again, the weird feeling he felt the day before hasn’t really left and it’s been crawling around his skin, only getting worse when he saw you coming in with pants. 

It’s not supposed to make him feel not happy, but you usually come over with a cute skirt or dress, showing enough of your thighs and panties to keep him up at night, fantasizing about them wrapped around his head, suffocating him as he eats you out so delicately or ferociously, littered with his desperate bites and kisses, making him whine out in horny pain-

“Monoma?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry as you ditch your phone to look over at your whining boyfriend. “You okay there?”

Shit. He must’ve gotten lost in his thoughts. “Yes, I am perfectly fine, darling.”

Now that’s weird. He’s speaking so softly, and he only ever does that after he’s cum at least a few times, or when he’s totally relaxed and ready to call it a night. Well, there are those few times where he lies and he speaks about the same.

Humming, you smile sweetly at him. 

“Are you sure about that, baby boy?”

Oh, that sent a shudder through his body, his white shirt suddenly feeling too thick and his shorts feeling a bit constricting. In other words, he’s now turned on.

He stays quiet, however, because he feels like his voice will give away his actual feelings, whether it continues being soft or it decides to crack and show how he’s ready to give himself away to you.

“Neito. I asked you a question.”

“No, mommy! I-I mean, I don’t know…” He huffed out, embarrassment now outweighing his neediness. God, why did you have to pull out the mommy card?! You’re so wicked. Did you not know how horrible his week was and now you want to be mean to him?

“What do you mean by that, baby?”

“Well, I’ve had a horrible week, mommy! You should know that!” 

“Don’t dare yell at me, Neito. Mommy’s trying to be patient and understanding, but if you’re going to just be a brat, then I should just leave you in time out, right?” Monoma gawked, his whole body and attention turned towards you as you got off of his bed, arms crossed and disappointment showing on your face. Really? You’re disappointed? Just as he opened his mouth to talk back, you spoke first.

“And here I brought one last gift for you. I’m here trying to be such a caring, doting girlfriend, and you start making assumptions about my efforts? Bad boy!”

Wait, gift? These were gifts? Oh! You… you were trying to comfort him? God, guess he was a bad boy. 

Seeing him deflate, eyes losing whatever snark they possessed, you sigh and walk towards your bag near the door. And this made him stand up so quickly he lost his footing and slightly fell forward, shocked that you could be leaving already, which you aren’t. Startled by his sudden movement, you quickly take out a plastic bag and hold it in front of him to show the last gift. 

It was quiet between you two, staring at each other before looking down at what you are holding. 

“What is that?” He’s the first to speak, blinking as he tries to figure out what the dark blue item could possibly be. It’s pleated, though, so-

“Is it the skirt you’ll change into?” And you laugh, shaking your head as you walk back to the bed and sit. 

“Not me, baby. You will change into it.” He’s going to be wearing a skirt? 

Blinking once more in confusion, he giggles awkwardly before frowning. 

“You’re joking, right?” Now it’s your turn to frown.

“No.” And you smile confidently. “I promise, if you wear the outfit in here, it’ll lead us to the actual last gift, hm?” You bat your eyelashes like a little girl asking her dad for a new Barbie doll, or whatever it is they bat their eyelashes for. You’re curious to see what he’ll do.

And you didn’t have to wait long for his decision to be made.

Sitting on your naked lap, thighs trembling in either overexertion or overstimulation, is a certain sweaty, defiled blond male with gorgeous teary, periwinkle eyes trying their best to focus down on you. 

After he swiftly and elegantly changed into the outfit, it came to show on his mirror that this wasn’t some random crop top and skirt combo, but a whole schoolgirl uniform: apart from a cropped school girl top and the pleated navy skirt, there were white thigh highs and cute hair clips. 

Turns out, you misunderstood his ‘subtle’ hints of some kinky schoolgirl skirt sex; you thought he was offering, with the way he’d bat his pretty eyelashes at you and stare at your skirt during lunch. Really, he was implying you stay with it on, somehow. 

Regardless of who was wrong, the fact your pretty boy is squirming uncontrollably with your strap-on deep inside him is something you just have to engrave in your mind. Who knows when you’ll be able to buy another skirt his size? You can’t wait to render it useless.

“Y-You’ve been thin-thinking for too-oo long!” Monoma whines, bringing a hand to wipe away his bothersome tears he doesn’t want you to see, huffing at the end before moaning loudly as you roll your hips upwards, the tip of the dildo teasing his sweet spot.

“Mm, I didn’t say you can speak yet, did I? Guess mommy spoiled you too much.” Sneering, you shift on the bedsheets under you while placing your hands on his thighs, slowly raking your nails upwards. You try your best to avoid the white thigh-high socks, not wanting to make him ticklish and forget why you’re even touching him there. 

Monoma shakingly gasps, squirming even more as he tries to have his pathetic, precum weeping dick grab the attention of either one of your hands but ends up staining the clothing covering it. Rolling your eyes, you smack the hairless skin hard enough to watch it quickly flush red and hear him groan, whether in pain, arousal or both.

“Stop it. You’re making me angry with how selfish you’re being. Isn’t mommy supposed to be satisfied first? Or did you forget our rules, baby?” 

“N-no! No! No, I- no!” Is whining all that he can do? He’s been whining or moaning for the past hour, with the occasional groans or gasps. You don’t want him to only whine, you need to see him cry. 

Cry prettily as he did on Monday when he thought no one was looking back at the dorms.  Watch him struggle to keep his whimpers of humiliation at bay. Make him forget all about his silly pride and stupid competitiveness against a class who doesn’t really see him as a threat, but just a crazy motherfucker (or so says Hagakure.)

“No what, Neito? ‘No mommy! I do know the rules!’ or ‘No mommy! I forgot the rules!’ C’mon, baby. I thought you knew how to speak properly? Now you’re making Bakugou seem eloquent.”

Oh no, you’re upset at him. Monoma gasps in offense, though, at the implication that the anger and pride-driven Bakugou is better than him at speaking. Ouch, okay, that actually kind of hurt but it was kinda hot? Kinda not? What’s wrong with him?

Yeah, what’s wrong with him? You’re expecting him to go on with his speech of how Bakugou isn’t anywhere near his expertise and social skills, how he’s clearly more coherent than the other, or the typical ‘how dare you’ sentences. What you didn’t expect was him to whimper and clasp his hands together as if asking for forgiveness so soon.

“No mo-mommy! I do know! Th-The rules, th-that is! I know ‘em!” 

“Then you’ll stop moving so much and let mommy continue marking you? If you do, and I’ll be repeating this for the last time, Neito, mommy might let you cum first, mm? Sounds good?”

“Ye-ES!” Okay, maybe you should’ve waited until he answered to land another slap on his thighs, although this one was close to his dick. Oh well, at least he’s making other sounds, but no struggle or tears. 

Leaving nail marks around the pale, smooth skin, even carving your name on both thighs with light scratches, you’re in awe at how he’s trying not to move too much. Then again, he is your sweet baby boy, who thrives and gets off of making you proud of him and cumming because of him. 

Lifting your eyes from the satisfying reddening skin to his face, you’re struck with awe again: finally, as if some god were listening to your wishes, you see him blinking rapidly as a new batch of tears quickly accumulate on his lashline and slowly trickle down his red cheeks before being furiously wiped away by him. Seems like this has been going on for a bit, seeing how his eyes are slightly red and his hands, clasped back together, if not tighter, look kind of wet. He didn’t want you to know he was trying not to cry and then failed so beautifully.

Gosh, and here you were expecting him to be a brat, to defy your authority over him, to challenge you like he usually does. 

(If only you had some mind-reading quirk, you would’ve known he actually had been planning his next moves.)

“Good job, baby! You let mommy mark you so pretty with her hands, and look! Mommy’s name is on your thighs, so that next time you touch yourself you won’t forget who you belong to- I mean, who you’re a baby boy for.” 

You’re basking in happiness, in pride, in complete bliss while he thanks you in small whimpers, hips twitching and hole clenching around your strap. Right, you forgot how long he has been cockwarming you; guess he deserves an even better award. He never manages to hold back for so long when sitting on your silicone cock.

Rubbing your palms around his thighs without moving your stare from his face, you command him to put his hands to use and lift the hem of the skirt, getting a good show of a new dribble of precum dropping heavily onto your pelvis. His dick is even shaking just as much as his body, pulsing even more than any other past encounter. It’s also competing against Kirishima’s red hair for the title of the “most red thing ever to exist”. 

Monoma’s opening and closing his mouth, eyebrows furrowed in question and silent begging.

“You can speak now.”

“M-Mommy, you pro-hah-mised t-to make hn-me cu-um!”

“...Watch that tone, little boy.” You glowered before continuing. “Remind mommy what she promised you and explain why you deserve it.”

Now you’re being unfair again and Monoma doesn’t want to deal with how you’re suddenly trying to milk out his responses to the way you want. Crossing his arms and glaring down at you, he mutters, “Wh-why should I? Did y-you forget?” 

Humming, you move your hands to his hips, rubbing your thumb on the cheap material covering them before beginning to lift him off, at least trying to. “Guess mommy should go back to her room since her baby boy decided to be a little bitch.”

“No!” That’s startling on both your ends hearing such a loud, anguished tone come out of him. Bottom lip trembling and quickly putting his hands to grip tightly at the skirt, Monoma holds back a sob. 

“I’m so-sorry, mommy! ‘m not a-a, um, little b-bitch. I’m sorry.” Ending with a whisper, he slowly puts all of his body weight down on your lap, wanting to keep you there and make it impossible to lift him off, and hangs his head in defeat. (Really, it’s because of shame, but you’ll never hear that from him.)

Do you not realize how hard he’s shaking? He can feel his heartbeat in his ears and hear it from his brain. He’s all sweaty and flushed red, his pupils dilate every time you look deep into them. He’s seen the way your eyes light up when glancing at his weeping dick, and he loves how wet it looks, it feels, it sounds, whenever he shifts. 

Most importantly, other than his neglected manhood slowly turning a shade of purple, his prostate has been teased for so long that he just wants to ride you hard enough to find bruises tomorrow and hypothetically ‘destroy your cock’.

“If you’re sorry, you’ll tell me what I want to hear. I’m not going to repeat what I asked for.”

Gulping to ease down the shame building up in his body, he lifts his head enough to catch your gaze before softly responding. 

“Mommy, um, promised I-I get to cum… she’ll m-make me cum if I-I stopped movin’ s’ much.” Goddamn it, Monoma, get yourself together! “I d-deserve this be-because I stopped. Was a g-good ba-um, baby boy.” He loves hates it when you make him do this, even if not often.

Satisfied with the answer you’ll probably only ever hear once and as clear as possible, you nod your head. 

“Then fuck yourself on my cock, Neito.”

No need to repeat yourself. Every little noise he tried so hard to hold back, every twitch and shudder he tried so hard to subdue, every twist of his face to show off the agonizing pleasure is quickly overcoming his insides and dick.

He’s whimpering so loudly, so shamelessly, as he bounces greedily on your lap. Loud and wet skin slapping against each other, and you at first thought, through every lost huff of air, that it’d be his ass connecting to your lube-covered thighs. Instead, your eyes shift towards his crying cock, the way spurts and spurts of precum are left on your lower abdomen, how this furiously blushing extremity keeps slapping itself onto you with every one of his desperate bounces. It’s even wetter than moments ago, you would’ve thought it’d be lube.

Monoma opens his eyes, which seemed to have closed at some point, and looks down at your face, huffing out airy whines of ‘what’, not knowing what you’re looking at. His dick has been wet with his precum for the past hour, so what could be new?

Until he looks down at himself and is mesmerized with how his dick, heavy with unreleased cum and flushed with blood, is tainting and slapping against your beautiful skin with his horny juice- wait, how stupid is he to refer to his precum as ‘horny juice?’ 

Stupid enough to forget to close his mouth and make his built up drool mix in with the mess below, his whimpers and whiny moans turning into high-pitched cries of your name and loud moans, a normal person would worry about their neighbors. The more he stares at himself, the louder he gets and the sloppier his hips gyrate.

Until he suddenly feels the tip of the toy punch against his prostate. 

“Ahn! AGAIN! A-aga-again! Nngain!” Monoma screams, eyes crossing and welling up with old and new built-up tears, ready to drip down. He’s gripping and pulling the hem of his skirt in all directions, his hands never staying still even when a light rip could be heard upon a harsh pull. He recreates the same move, thighs quivering and tensing, begging to be closed. Each accurate hit to his sensitive spot forces out a louder cry and threatens his tears to let loose. 

His movements get sloppier and lazier. Seems like he’s tiring out, which isn’t good. Sure, you’re hoping to make him cry with pretty tears and ugly sobs, but you were also hoping to make him do so repeatedly. Then again, if he’s tired out, there wouldn't be much fight or snark from him and maybe you can still make him cry freely. 

Good thing you know how to execute fantastic sneak attacks against him.

Under the pillow where your head is situated, you reach for a not-so-small device that kind of looks like a walkie-talkie. Monoma sees this when trying to focus his sight, tensing up at the thought that maybe you were recording this for some benefit or blackmail. But why would you want to blackmail your own boyfriend? Had he done something not to your liking?

The answer came in the form of loud buzzing and sudden quaking starting from deep inside him. 

“Wh-wh-wha-what is- hnngh, st-sto-op!”  Monoma wails out, almost falling onto your body with how powerful the vibrations are churning hot inside of him. His vision is getting blurry, blocked by the tears that finally, finally are let go and kiss his cheeks with every hot trail left behind. 

“You, oh, want me to stop?” He can kind of see your wicked grin, the mockery in your tone and amusement oozing out making him let even more tears fall. Why would you want to stop? 

“St-sto-op?! No? N-no! No! P-pluh-plea- nnnghh!” 

Ah, so he’s gone dumb. He doesn’t realize he said to stop. Well, now you can either continue watching him break on your lap and admire the waterfall of precum and fresh tears and make him continue working for his orgasm; or, you can tease him some more while turning up the intensity of the toy, now that it’s pleasuring you for once. The way it tickles your clit is enough to make your panting much more noticeable and thighs tense. You wonder how a setting at 4 could already drag out such reactions from the blond male. Enticed now, you decide to go with the second choice. 

“P-pluh-plea…? Didn’t think y-you’d be stupid! Where did m-my smart-mouthed baby go? Ugh.” 

“N-n’where m’mmy! ‘m h-here- Fuck! Fuck, pl-please! Please! Mo-more? Nngh!”

“You’re slurring, b-baby. But, you a-asked politely.” You hover your thumb over the ‘+’ button, hips grinding upward to drag out some more tears, more cries, more whimpers as you melt into the bed.

“Mommy’s g-gonna count to 10, al-alright? Ugh, then you’ll c-cum, mm. Understand?” 

You’ve never seen so much eagerness come from Monoma before, well, not unless it’s because he knows he’ll win at something or get to prove his worth even more. But the way he nods reminds you of a bobblehead: empty in the head, cute to look at. 

“G-good. Don’t forget t-to keep riding m-mommy’s big, th-thick cock.” You then lower your voice, sending shivers down his spine even with how hot he feels. “Understand?”

You don’t wait to see more of his eager nods. You press down on the button until it reaches the maximum intensity, which makes your hips jolt up so harshly, thrusting the silicon toy back up to him that it’s enough to make him squeal. Now that’s new. 

As much as you’re enjoying how satisfying the stimulation is on your wet cunt, you can’t help but moan out loud Monoma’s name as the boy’s reduced to short-lived squeals and rapid hiccups, so rapid that you’re beginning to think he might be hyperventilating. Worried, you bring your thumb to reduce the intensity before feeling him grind so desperately on your lap. So without any more distractions or hesitations, you quickly begin the countdown.

“Ten.” Monoma repeats with a strained moan, his hands flailing about as he tries to grab purchase onto something, letting go of his ‘forgotten’ skirt.

“N-nine.” Monoma finally plants his trembling hands onto your shoulders, pinning you down enough to give enough strength to his arms. Hovering over you, you frown at his skirt-covered dick. 

“Ei-eight.” Monoma tenses his thighs as much as possible to stop the shaking. Even if it didn’t do much, he begins riding you again with more vigor and desperation than previously. A high-pitched whine of your name quickly leaves him as his sensitive dick receives friction from the fabric covering it, the stain that had dried over time reviving as more precum marks it.

“Seven- shit.” Monoma’s trying to look down at you. He can’t really see much of anything, not with his tears never stopping or his mind not setting back into an intellectual phase. He can barely think to say anything else but lewd chants of your name and ‘please’, ‘more’, ‘faster’. It’s not until he moans out a timid “f-fu-ugh- fuck!” that you pay mind to the rapidly growing heat in your stomach.

“Six! Fuck, Neito!” Monoma’s continuous chants and growing volume suddenly sound babbled as he drools down on you, his saliva hitting your chin before you growl up at him. No words are exchanged as he swallows the liquid that had accumulated, although with difficulty. His thighs are beginning to burn and shake with exhaustion, quaking even worse than when he was cockwarming you. His riding turned into hard bouncing, finally stealing your breath away physically and providing some movement on the other end of the silicone toy to press harder onto your clit. 

“Fi-five!” Monoma’s eyes cross for the second time, staying longer in that position as he chokes on his scream, all because you’re beginning to meet up with your own thrusts. Your feet planted on the bed as you let go of the control for the vibrator, gripping onto his hips tightly to match him with you. You’re beginning to moan so sweetly, gasping out his name loud enough for him to-

“Cl-clo-ose! F-ugh-fuck! Fuck! Clo-oooose!” 

“Ho-hold it! Hold i-it, baby, a-almost the-there!” God, the heat is growing so deep in you that you know this will be violent.

“Four- shiiit.” Monoma’s sobbing now, ever since you told him to hold it. Mission accomplished, so far. He’s blinking rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears and allow him to actually see you. He needs to see your lewd faces, ignoring the fact he is probably rivaling yours. The intense need to cum is building up far too quickly for him to even catch up and he just wants to cum right here, right now. But if he does, you’ll punish him. So, he tries his best to hold it. 

“Three! Three, Neito!” Monoma’s trying so hard to not cum, to not even think about it, but how can he if his prostate is being overstimulated and his cock keeps receiving such familiar friction, enough to make him sob even louder. He’s not going to make it.

“T-two! Lif-ft your sk-skirt!” Monoma can’t or else he’ll fall on you. But you’re grabbing onto him so hard that he hasn’t felt the need to support himself on your shoulders. Using whatever energy he has left, he throws himself up to his old sitting position, making his bouncing sloppier and unsynchronized with your thrusts. He quickly grabs onto the wet hem, biting his lip as he tries to swallow and control his sobs. Lifting it, he’s rewarded with the sight of his slick covered cock, so red and noticeably throbbing that his eyes slightly roll to the back of his head.

“One! Fuck, one!” Monoma’s mouth opens wide, his throat constricting as every choked moan and cry tries to escape while his ass begins to tighten alarmingly fast around the toy. He jumps when he feels something wrap around him, quickly looking down at himself again to see, then feel, you viciously stroke him. And that does it.

“Cum.”

Monoma gasps as he relaxes his thighs and lets go. One more hit to his prostate and he’s…

He’s quiet.

Your eyes are as wide as dinner plates as you watch him reach his orgasm: on you, in all his beautiful glory, is Monoma Neito. A guy whose back is arched at a certain angle you’re sure it’s uncomfortable. A guy whose nipples are completely being seen through the drenched crop top. A guy whose mouth is leaking trails of drool, but not as much as his eyes are leaking streams of unstoppable tears. A guy whose face is so red and sweaty, his bangs are striking to the skin and his eye color pops out more. A guy whose only warning of his cum leaving his body, as much as his soul had, is to roll his eyes so violently to the back of his head and convulse forward.

You forget about your orgasm as you try your best to support his body in the current position, not wanting him to fall on you or backward. Well, maybe you should’ve let him fall onto you.

His cum spurts seem to be gold medal Olympians in ‘how far can we reach’ and ‘how much can we be’. The first one barely misses your eyes, but the second one hits you on the forehead. With each spurt leaving his twitching cock, Monoma hiccups whiney and loud words of gratitude and mercy, hips jumping up, torso jolting forward. His knuckles are white upon the unforgivable grip he has on his absolutely ruined skirt, slowly but surely being dirtied with each load forced out of him with the still-buzzing toy inside him.

This whole scene is enough to remind you about turning down the intensity of the vibrations while grinding slowly, both to help milk him out his incredibly overwhelming high and to bring you back to the tip of paradise. 

By the time he’s done, he nearly collapses on you but first lifts himself, somehow, off of the toy before leaning back onto your lifted thighs. He’s still twitching, the color of his face slowly coming back as his eyes dry up from the tears. The socks have moved a bit down on his legs and most of the pretty hello-kitty themed hair clips are barely fastened on his hair. You’re pretty sure some are littered around the bed.

Monoma’s eyeing his mess curiously and taking in a cum-covered you before he scoops up some of his cum, tastes himself and you both moan softly. You turn the toy off, still rolling your hips as much as possible to ride out your harsh, hot, and wet orgasm. You’re pretty sure you somehow squirted, but that doesn’t matter too much right now. 

Because the moment Monoma came back to his senses and made eye contact with you, you find yourself living in a slow-motion picture: with a shaky hand, he uses the same fingers to write down his first name before scooping up as much of his excess cum and, without any warning, moves forward to thrust his fingers in your mouth, dragging the pads of his fingertips down onto your tongue as you swallow. 

Pulling his fingers out slowly while giggling breathlessly, his signature smirk grows onto his blissed-out face.

“H-how do I ta-taste, m-mommy?”

[all-about-seggs]

Ardent Affections :

Pairing : Timeskip + Virgin! Sakusa Kiyoomi x Female reader

Rating : 18+, Explicit

Word count : 3k

Warnings : Smut and fluff (and holy shit I ended up including a bit of angst) , Loss of virginity, blow job, fingering, vaginal sex, established relationships.

A/n: I prefer dirtier side of Smuts but this was as far as I could go with Saku sooooo I hope my fluffy smut isn't cringey >.<.

Putting the plum filled onigiri in the clean plastic container, you give it another look over to make sure it's tidy enough, afterall, the person you made this for was nothing if not picky. But, you also knew he loved umeboshi, so after a few successful weeks of your relationship with Sakusa, you went ahead and bought more than enough dried plums to practice making something he won't be able to refuse. It didn't take long to reach the gym he was practicing at, with lunch time approaching, he'd be on his break too, giving you the perfect chance to have some alone time.

One would think, that no boyfriend would refuse their significant other's cooking but falling in love with him as well as dating him made you realise it wasn't the status quo. He was, at the very least, peculiar. Always on his own, Sakusa never felt the need to be involved with a lot of people, ironical as it may be for someone who played a team sport, his idiosyncrasies made it hard for most people to get close to him. That's why the sight of a cluster of high shool girls flocking your boyfriend, to give him their handmade goods was comical yet unsettling.

It wasn't something you got jealous at, but it's something that made you second guess yourself instead, whenever the thought of making him something pooped in your head, this same scene played infront of your eyes. Sakusa surrounded by a bunch of girls with heart eyes, wanting to give him stuff. On the verge of losing his polite demeanor, Sakusa almost gave them a taste of his blunt indifference if it weren't for some faculty member intervening. Today was the same.

With the perfect excuse, he pulled himself away from the group and sauntered towards you, eye twitching with a look that screamed ' I saw you having fun on my expense'. You quickly pulled yourself out of the gloomy thoughts and greeted him with your regular smile.

" I didn't wanted to disturb your fan meet", the cheeky tone in your voice added to his annoyance.

" I assure you that you didn't, besides you know I don't like hand made stuff ", he grumbled, voice carrying the regular icky note you were used to but it caused the dull ache in your heart grew. Before you could answer, you saw Bokuto running towards your direction, making you jump with his boisterous greeting,

" HEY! Y/n chan!... Are you gonna join us for lunch as well ?", The look in his face was as cute as his voice which was cutoff by Sakusa's cold one,

" No. I don't like the places you go to eat. Also, I'm done for today so we have no reason to stay.", Curt and to the point, Sakusa answered him and gestured you with his eyes to follow him instead.

" Geez, it's like he can never let loose!, Y/n chan! You should ask him to open up more!", pouting, the energetic male glared at Sakusa's retreating form.

"Ummm, Sorry Bokuto! He still doesn't know how to..... People? I guess? But he's trying! I know he is! So don't worry... We'll catch up with you guys sometime else okay?", With a slight bow, you trailed after your boyfriend, leaving a deflated Bokuto behind.

As you walked behind him, you thought about the first time the both of you met, he didn't even looked at you properly before leaving just like he was right now, about how you had to put your feelings out in the open first so that he'd finally notice them, how, for the last few days your garbage can only had dozens of messed up onigiri, and how the lunch you packed was getting colder by the minute as it layed still in your bag.

You were lost in thought for the rest of the way, he wasn't one to talk much but your constant silence was not something that often happened. Still not being used to initiating small talks, all he could do was gaze at the dazed look on your face.

The two of you made your way back to his apartment that the sports facility provided the players. You had been here a couple of times before but never long enough to actually call it 'staying over'.

" Why are we at your place?", You quietly ask, making him pause before speaking.

" I did say I was done with practice for the day", opening the front door he ushered you in. It was unsurprisingly neat, the entrance not having any useless items, infact everything in his place had a purpose or use.

It was a big step, him letting anyone in his personal space, considering his high maintenance personality you thought he'd dip you in a bucket of sanitizer everyday but he was a lot more chill when you both take your respective baths. He still goes in first.

The moment you stepped outside the bathroom, you saw a nervous looking Sakusa was sitting on the edge of his bed.

" Did you really wanted to have lunch with those guys?", His abrupt question caught you off guard, so apparently he took your silencein the wrong way, but it still warmed your heart to know he noticed and cared enough to talk about it, albeit clumsily.

" Is that why you think I was quite on our way here?", The reply you gave made him avert his eyes, whether it was out of embarrassment or the awkwardness in the room, it didn't change the fact that your sudden change in behaviour was noted by your boyfriend.

" If you have something to say, then I want you to tell me, I'm afraid I won't know otherwise", Sakusa added, finally looking at you with his deadpan yet sharp look.

He was right, every couple needs to have proper communication in order for their relationship to succeed, so with that in mind you decided to tell him about what's bothering you.

Walking over to his side, you sat next to him,

" I made you lunch today, but when I saw you rejecting your fans gifts saying you don't like handmade stuff, it- bothered me.", Your reasoning might've been a little selfish, it's not like you wanted to force anything on him just because you were his girlfriend but the fear of getting rejected always made you hold back on so many things.

" So I didn't give it to you, and then I just started having a trail of depressing thoughts about how maybe I'm the only one who wants anything from this relationship, I mean we haven't even done anything more than kissing Kiyoomi.", To you, this confession was nothing more than the frustrations you've built up. He was silently listening as you went on, not interrupting until you were done.

" I see....", His soft baritone was laced I'm regret as he brought his hands to you head, gently combing the strands, " I'm sorry, I made you feel that way, it's obvious that both of us need to work on our communication skills but there is one thing you got wrong", saying that, his hand combing you hair pushed you forward until you were right in front of his glossy lips,

" It should go without saying that I wouldn't let you in here if I didn't loved you, and you wouldn't be in this bed either if I didn't wanted you.", By the end of his sentence, his hot mouth covered your in a demonically passionate kiss which was all teeth and tongue. It was probably your longest kiss as well, making you grip his shoulders so hard it would've probably left marks if it weren't for his taut musculature. You pressed you hands on his sculpted chest, feeling his nipples harden as you slowly run you thumbs over them. Sakusa pulled away from you to catch a few breaths, his lips shining with your mixed saliva.

" I've never done this before......", hesitation crossed his eyes which soon melted into a look of determination as he brought his face near yours.

"But if it's with you, I know I'll like it", he panted, pulling you on his lap to continue his ministrations from a more closer proximity. The uncharacteristically deep kiss encouraged your hands to roam around more, to feel all of his ripped form through the fabric of his thin shirt. Your hand grazed his crotch, this contact alone was enough to make him twitch, his virginity showing, the blush on his cheeks spreaded all the way to his neck.

The front of his shorts looked so strained,It was painfully clear how much his cock was begging for attention, so you pushed Sakusa back until he was lying flat on the bed, feet still on the floor. Searching his eyes for any objections, you pulled his waistband down to reveal his bulging member. It suited a big guy like him, his thick cock felt so hot and heavy in you hand it took everything in you to stop yourself from jumping on it right away.

" Hggg... Wait... It's-", his voiced carried more embarrassment than discomfort but you stopped nonetheless.

" Dirty?.....is that what you want to say?", questioningly, you looked at him from between his legs as he nodded.

" Well sex is better dirty but, I'll try not to make a mess okay?", With a wink you grabbed his shaft with one hand and took his tip in your mouth. The warm, wet insides of your mouth touching the sensitive head of his cock made him shudder in pleasure but he didn't make more than a hum. Maybe your boyfriend was still embarrassed but now that you finally get to go down on him, you made it a personal goal to hear his moans.

Detemined to hear his beautiful whimpers, you added pressure on his member through your tongue as you moved your lips up and down, swallowing him as much as you could. Droll dripping from the side of your mouth and his precum gave you enough lubrication to increase you pace, going harder and harder until you felt your teeth make contact with his sensitive shaft, that must've hurt, you thought but atleast it got a reaction out of him.

" AH-.....mmmhh Y/n damnit.....you're doing it too roughly", you heard him complain from above you,

" I just rough housed you a little..... Anyway, you can't blame a girl who's been abstaining herself from fucking her hot boyfriend ", with a pop you pulled him out of your mouth and looked up at the wide eyed Sakusa with an uncharacteristic boldness that even surprised you. Maybe it was because of the situation or because you two had a heart to heart conversation about your feelings just now but you felt oddly comfortable with him more than you ever did before. You knew he loved you enough to put up with anything you'd throw at him at his point, so why not push your luck?

"......well aren't you a vulgar little girl", regaining his composure, Sakusa propped himself on his elbows to give you his trademark deadpan look. You squeeze his balls teasingly in an attempt to rile him up further, his face contorts a little before he shoots you a glare.

" I'm going to make you regret that", with nothing more than a growl he grabbed your hand to make lie face down beside him, for a second you thought he'd spank you, but the moment you raised you head from the mattress to see what's going on, a big hand was on your head pushing your face down again, his other hand ghosting over the hem of your t-shirt.

" It's my turn now, so you better behave", emphasizing the behave he first pulled your shirt off of your shoulders, then swiftly getting rid of your pants. This was an interesting turn of event, just a moment ago your virgin boyfriend was squirming like a pathetic little boy but with just a little teasing made him switch into daddy mode, you'd be lying if you said it wasn't thrilling.

You laid there stark naked as you heard a few rustling sounds coming from behind, indicating Sakusa taking his cloths off. His long, deft fingers grabbed your hips, raising them a slightly off the surface of the mattress, the digits of his right hand crept near your dripping core as if wondering if he should touch you or not, you moved your hips closer so you could feel his touch but he retreated his hand, only to pinch one of your butt cheek. The tease.

" If you're expecting me to eat you out too then keep dreaming..... but since I made you wait so long, I'll give you something else today", his matter of fact tone was even as he traced two long fingers up your slit taking in all of your juices, he pushed them inside your aching pussy. His thick digits rubbing your walls made you moan in the pillow, with his thumb he started rubbing your engorged clit. His actions were not exactly gentle but you didn't wanted them to be either, you wanted him to pound you into the mattress so bad but maybe it was asking too much from someone inexperienced.

" You like this right?", It wasn't exactly a question, as his increased his speed, with his free hand he pinched your ass again leaving small red marks in the fleshy patch of skin. Your first orgasm in so many weeks approached you with an intense force, making you buck you hips in Sakusa's hand. Just as your pussy started clenching around the fingers that was inside it, he withdrew his hand leaving you with a strange sense of emptiness.

" Not so fast y/n, it's more efficient it we cum together, besides I know you want more than just my fingers", his voice carrying the cockiness of someone far more experienced but you can't complain, for both his actions and words were easily bringing you closer to the edge. Ignoring the stickiness of his fingers he lightly massaged your butt cheeks before kneeling right behind them. The sight of your flushed, naked body was enough to get him going, something that he dare not admit.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him opening his bedside drawer to retrieve a condom. Well, atleast one of you were prepared for this, just as he finished putting on the thin protection, he asked you,

" I'm putting it in y/n", he didn't make it sound like a question but it wasn't until you nodded in approval, that he moved. Groaning lightly, Sakusa entered you inch by inch, making the process as slow as possible so could clearly feel the delicious stretch his thick cock provided. You were already panting by the time he bottomed out in you, as he started moving his hips you rolled yours to match his pace, creating a steady rhythm.

Both your pants and body were in sync, building up pleasure that soon reached its peak, the roll of your hips and the sound of his name from your mouth urged him to take a hold of your hips and drive his pulsating member further into your cunt. He felt your walls clenching around him when your body experienced the well awaited orgasm, quivering beneath him like. The sudden pressure added on to his cock made your boyfriend follow right after. The both of you were still riding your high when he lowered his torso on to your back, sweat slicked bodies on top of each other, you wondered what kind of face he would be making right about now. Hoping it wasn't one of disgust, you turned your face to the side, his endearing curls tickling your ears as he kept his nose buried in the nape of your neck.

There was a serene quality to the room where the two of you laid still until Sakusa got up abruptly, you knew that it was bath time even before he uttered anything.

" Let's eat", his soft voice seemed almost like a whisper which was confusing and astonishing at the same time when he tossed one towel to you and quickly wiped himself with the other.

Making quick work of the cleaning, you both went to the living room where you pulled out the bento box from your bag. It felt cold against your hand but this time it didn't make you sad because now you were sure that the person next to you wouldn't reject it.

Opening the box, you noticed they got a little crushed, probably because of you tossing your bag aside dejectedly when you first arrived, the previously well made onigiri lost their original shape but you hoped they tasted the same.

Gingerly showing him the box you thought about quickly explaining it's condition and telling him about how you made it in the most hygienic way possible for a human but the words died in your mouth when Sakusa briskly took one piece out and munched on the distorted rice ball. You watched him chew, waiting became too nerve-racking so you blurted, " How is it Kiyoomi?!", Talk about putting pressure on a guy but it didn't deter him from telling you the truth.

" It's good", the simple reply he gave was the best, you thought, his words were never grandiose, just to the point that's what made you believe them everytime he decides to be honest with you.

"Next time...", He mumbled in between his increasing breaths and tinted cheeks,"Lets make it together".

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Part 10

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Love and Hope

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Other Characters: OFCs: Jill (Y/N’s sister), Evie and Mia (Y/N’s nieces), OMC: Brian (Y/N’s brother-in-law)

Word Count: 6,385 (notes in bold, thoughts, texts, song lyrics in italics). 

Part Summary: As Christmas time approaches, Y/N and Dean are sad they can’t spend this time together as she goes home to New York for the holidays. However, their Christmas presents to each other prove that they have a future together.

Warnings: Slight angst, brief mention of reader’s exes, Dean’s self-deprecation rears its ugly head (slightly), Dean being sweet (yes, that’s a warning), Fluff (yes, it’s true, you read that correctly lol)

Music: It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas by Jason Manns (Y/N at the airport scene), Let It Snow by Bing Crosby (playing in the background of Y/N and her sister girl talk scene), Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas by Jensen Ackles and Jason Manns (Christmas Eve scenes)

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist 

A/N: It’s a Christmas chapter! Yay! Great timing as it’s the first day of the holiday season! Thank you to everyone who has been reading and loving this series. I never thought it would get as much love as it has, and I’m so grateful to every single one of you! There’s only 5 parts and an epilogue left after this, I can’t believe we’re almost at the end, but there’s still quite a bit of story to tell. I’m so excited for you guys to see what happens! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Life’s Lessons Masterlist

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics! Check her out for all your AU needs, and for festive themes!!!

Y/N smiled as she watched the kids rushing out the front doors of the school. It was officially the end of the day and the start of the holidays. She pulled her coat a little tighter around herself, as she called out to some students to be careful on the sidewalk, as it had snowed overnight. It was December 22nd, and school had let out early. In a few short hours, she was flying out to New York to spend the holidays with her family. She was nervous about the weather and was praying that her flight wouldn’t be grounded. She was also nervous to be headed home but considering Ethan had made the permanent move to L.A. she doubted he would be there.

She went back into the school and quickly packed up her things. She said goodbye to all the teachers and to Chuck and walked out with Cas and Charlie.

“Alright, here” Charlie said, as she handed her a small present in the parking lot.

“Oh Charlie, thank you” Y/N smiled, as she took it and handed one over to her as well. Y/N opened the gift, smiling as she saw the earrings she wanted during a time when she and Charlie had gone shopping, but didn’t buy.

Charlie hugged her after opening hers, a beautiful scarf that had her favorite colors.

Cas and Y/N exchanged gifts too, a new tie, white with little books on it for him because “blue may be your color, but you can branch out” and a leather-bound journal for her.

“Merry Christmas” all three of them hugged and called out to each other before they drove home.

Y/N hurried to get home as she still had a few more things to pack before she left in the evening. She had messaged Mark a few days after the incident with him, telling him that it was really over and to never call her, ever again. So far, it seemed like he had gotten the message, having not tried to contact her at all in the last few weeks. She was incredibly thankful for that. She was also thankful that in that time, she and Dean had been hanging out a lot, too. It was all very innocent and simple, just watching movies and making dinner together, or ordering take-out if they didn’t feel like cooking, after they both finished work. After that first night when they slept in her bed, they hadn’t done more than that. She was beginning to wonder when Dean would ask her out, and whether she should just ask him. Though she knew that maybe they just needed a little more time.

When she got home, she unzipped her boots and walked around in socked feet. She picked her suitcase which was half packed already and put it on the bed. She started putting some clothes and shoes and other items that she would need, including a few last-minute presents for her nieces.

Once she was finally finished packing, Y/N got changed into the clothes she’d be wearing to travel. A loose, grey, high-neck sweater and dark grey scarf, black pants and her grey coat, and white sneakers to make it easier on her feet in the airport. She had her carry-on and check-in bags ready by the door, needing both for this trip as she had to carry so many presents with her. She couldn’t wait to see her family after so many months away from them.

Dean shrugged on a thicker plaid shirt, wrapped a scarf around his neck and then his brown leather jacket. He picked up the rectangle shaped present he had wrapped horribly (he had never been good at that) and opened the front door, leaving the house and closing it.

He walked down the porch steps and across the path in his front yard, where he had cleared the snow off to the sides. He walked across the street and down the path of Y/N’s yard, which he had cleared for her, walking up her porch steps. He stood in front of the door and let out a big breath, pushing the doorbell. He had her present in his hand and he wanted to give it to her at that very moment. He had enlisted Dorothy’s help in finding it for Y/N, after an idea popped into his head and he couldn’t get rid of it. Considering Dorothy had connections, she had managed to get him a decent price on it; it was expensive but at least it didn’t cost him an absolute fortune once she haggled the price down.

The door opened, and Y/N was shocked to see Dean standing there. She stood at the threshold and admired how adorable he looked all rugged up to protect himself from the cold.

“Hi” she smiled, softly.

“Hi” he smirked, walking in when she stepped aside. “You leaving soon?”

“Yeah, my cab should be here any minute” she said, shutting the door.

Dean nodded, as he handed the present over to her. “Here.”

“Oh, Dean” she smiled at him, as she took it from him. “I was going to leave yours at your door, but-” she stopped herself as she tucked the present under her arm, gesturing for him to wait and walked into her office.

Dean watched as she came back, carrying a large, thin, rectangular shape wrapped up in silver wrapping and a giant red ribbon, tied into a bow.

“This is for you” she smiled, handing it over to him. “But you can’t open it until midnight, after Christmas Eve is over.”

“Okay. Wow. Thanks” he said, looking over it and wondering what the hell it was. “You can’t open yours till then, either.”

“New York’s an hour ahead” she laughed.

“Doesn’t matter. We both open them on our midnight. Deal?” he asked, smirking.

“Deal” she nodded, with a smile.

“So… New York. I’m glad you’ll get to see your folks for the holidays” he said, his smirk fading away knowing that she’d be so far away. He was happy for her, though. She deserved to see her family after so many months away.

“I can’t wait” she beamed. “Just to see them all, hug and cuddle my little nieces, soak up the holiday spirit.”

“That’s great.” He smirked. Seeing her love for her family made him positive that his own would love her, and she would love them.

He looked down at the present in her hand and smirked. He really hoped that it would let her know what he felt for her. Y/N looked at the present she got him and hoped that he’d like it. It was something for his new building where he was going to have the restoration garage. It would look amazing in his office, there.

A car horn honking pulled them out of their thoughts, and Y/N glanced down at her watch. She looked up at him smiling brightly.

“Merry Christmas, Dean” she said.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N” he smirked.

She moved in and wrapped her arms around his neck. His automatically came around her waist, pulling her into the hug. They held each other for a moment, basking in each other’s touch, their eyes closed. They jumped apart as the car horn sounded again.

Y/N laughed as she gathered her things. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Yeah” he agreed. “Here, let me help.”

Dean placed his huge present outside on the porch as Y/N walked out and closed the door to her house, locking it securely. Dean walked down the porch steps, with her check-in suitcase, putting it in the trunk of the cab. Y/N walked down and opened the door to the backseat, as Dean took her carry-on and put that in the trunk as well.  She waited for a moment, as Dean walked over to her after closing the trunk. She really wished she could stay back and spend time with him, but she had to see her family. She was really looking forward to it, but she couldn’t help but feel sad that she wouldn’t be with Dean.

He looked down at her, looking as beautiful as the day he first saw her. He hated that he wouldn’t get to see her over Christmas and New Years’, wishing that she could stay back, and they could spend the holidays together. He wished he could see the look on her face when she opened the present from him, but he would have to settle for hearing whether she liked it or not. He was really going to miss her. Kiss her! He thought to himself as he continued to look at her. Before he could think twice, he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers, softly.

It didn’t take long for it to deepen, as Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck. She smiled into the kiss, as he pulled her closer, their lips moving against each other’s. They were finally in each other’s arms again. There was so much behind the kiss; a promise of more to come, a promise of their future together, a promise of things being better for both of them. Y/N was the one to pull away, regretfully, but she had a plane to catch. “I really have to go” she said, frowning as she looked up at him. “But um… it’s about time you did that” she said, biting her lip.

Dean groaned when he saw her do that. “Don’t, sweetheart, or I won’t let you get on that plane.”

She laughed as she stopped. “Bye.” She leaned in and pecked his lips.

“Bye” he said, returning her smile.

With one last glance at him, she got into the cab. Dean watched it drive away with a smile on his face. He suddenly couldn’t wait to see her again.

Y/N eyes scanned over the crowds at the airport, trying to spot her dad. She had shoved her way through baggage claim and picked up her check-in and was now trying to find her father through the throngs of people embracing each other, excited to get their holiday celebrations underway. By the time they had a quick lay-over in Atlanta and flew into New York, it was 8.30pm, which was the scheduled time, and she was incredibly thankful to whatever higher power there was that got her there. It was still a 2-hour drive to Rhinebeck, and her family would most likely be sleeping by the time she got home, but at least she’d see them properly in the morning.

As the crowd around her cleared, she spotted her father and beamed as he saw her too, waving frantically. She rushed over to him and launched herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. She felt tears prick her eyes as she laughed, happy to finally see him again.

“Oh sweetie, let me look at you” he said, pulling away from the hug and holding her at arms’ length. “You look different.” He eyed her, his brows knitted together.

“I’m still the same me, dad” she shrugged, laughing slightly.

“It’s so good to see you” he smiled, his eyes glistening. “Come on, let’s go.”

As they walked out of the airport, a bearded man with glasses was jamming “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” on his guitar. His case was open in front of him, and Y/N quickly walked over, dropping a 20-dollar bill in.

“Thanks” he smiled. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” she called back and then hurried over to her dad, who was wheeling her bags to the parking lot. She smiled as she walked beside him; Christmas was her favorite holiday, and it was already off to a great start.

The drive back home was filled with Y/N catching up on everything she had missed. Her dad told her that her mom was going crazy with excitement of her being there soon and was making sure everything was perfect. Y/N laughed; her mom didn’t need to do anything extra to make things special considering it always would be no matter what, but she wouldn’t be her mom if she didn’t.

When they arrived home, Y/N gasped as she saw the house decorated so beautifully. The lights and decorations on the house were as stunning as always, and she was glad she got to see them again. As they went in, Y/N laughed quietly to herself as saw her mother, fast asleep on one couch, and her brother-in-law asleep on the other. Her sister and the kids were most likely asleep upstairs.

“I’ll get them up, you go upstairs” her dad whispered. “Brian can carry that up.” He gestured to her large suitcase.

“Thanks, dad” she whispered, as she quietly walked up the stairs with her carry-on.

She walked to her old bedroom and flicked on the light. She laughed slightly as she saw it still hadn’t changed at all since before she left for college. All her Backstreet Boys and NSYNC posters were still up on one wall, her Led Zeppelin ones still up on the other. She really had an eclectic taste in music. She heard a soft knock on the door and turned, seeing her brother-in-law, Brian, walk in with her suitcase. She smiled as she walked over, hugging him tightly.

“Jill’s gonna freak in the morning. I tried waking her up but Evie’s practically sleeping on top of her” Brian said, laughing slightly.

“I’ll catch them in the morning” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

Brian nodded, smiling at her. “It’s good to have you home. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight” she said, watching him leave and shut the door behind him.

Y/N quickly got changed for bed and slipped under the covers. As she drifted off, she couldn’t wait to see everyone else in the morning.

It was great to be home.

“Auntie Y/N!” a little voice yelled as it barrelled through Y/N’s room and bounced up on the bed.

Y/N gasped and flinched as a little body flung itself over her. She relaxed when she realized where she was, and held her 5-year-old niece, Evie tighter.

“I’m so happy you’re here” she smiled down at Y/N.

“So am I, sweetie” Y/N smiled, rocking her side to side as she didn’t let go.

Y/N looked up at the door when she saw her sister standing against the doorframe, holding her 8-month-old niece, Mia on her hip.

“This one wants to say hi, too” Jill said, smiling.

Y/N got up from bed, Evie stuck to her leg as she walked over to her sister. She hugged her tight, feeling a few tears escape down her face.

“I missed you, so much” Y/N said, holding Jill tighter.

“I missed you too” Jill said, pulling away and smiling at her.

Y/N smiled as she saw the baby. She was so big now, having only been 4 months when she left for Lawrence. She reached for her, but little Mia scrunched her face up, squirming into her mother.

“This one needs to be fed, so you get cleaned up and come downstairs. Mom’s making breakfast” Jill said, kissing Y/N’s cheek and taking the girls out of the room.

Y/N quickly brushed her teeth and threw her robe on over her pyjamas. She raced down the stairs and into the kitchen, smiling when she saw her mom’s back as she stood at the stove.

“Mom” Y/N said, as she walked over.

Her mom turned around and nearly started crying on the spot. She rushed over and took Y/N in her arms, hugging her tight.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here” her mom said to her as she pulled away, wiping her eyes.

“Me too” Y/N smiled.

“Alright, the pancakes are almost done. So, sit down and help yourself, and everyone else will down soon” her mom said, gesturing to the table that was already set.

“Can’t I help with something?” Y/N asked, frowning.

“No, you just got here, honey. Relax, we’ll put you to work tomorrow” her mom laughed, as she playfully shoved her towards the dining table.

Y/N laughed and shook her head as she walked over, licking her lips at the sight of the delicious breakfast.

After a great breakfast with her family, Y/N helped Evie decorate another gingerbread house, because the two she did with grandma yesterday weren’t enough. Jill sat with Mia on her lap, across from Y/N at the dining table, as Let It Snow played in the background through the house. Brian had gone back to their house to get some more bottles for the baby, and her parents had rushed out to deliver some homemade Christmas cake to their friends. So, Y/N was glad she and her sister were alone for a while, to have some proper girl talk.

“So…” Jill trailed off, as she distracted the baby with her toy, and tried to ice a piece of the gingerbread house with one hand. “How are things with Mark?”

Y/N smiled, sheepishly, feeling guilty she hadn’t told her sister yet. “Things are… over.”

“What?” Jill asked, wide eyes looking up at her.

Y/N shrugged, as she iced one part of the roof for the gingerbread house. “Things got a little… complicated.”

“Well, considering I only know whatever you told me up to the third date, I need the specifics” Jill said, shifting Mia when she started to fuss.

“I know, I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a while” Y/N frowned, looking up at her sister.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Don’t apologize. I mean, we’ve both been busy” Jill laughed slightly, gesturing her head between her two daughters.

Y/N looked at Evie sitting next to her and smiled, seeing her niece in full concentration as she decorated, her tongue sticking out.

“This one has to leave, though” Y/N said, looking at Evie and then Jill.

Jill nodded in understanding. “Evie, honey. Can you stop what you’re doing for a second?”

“What is it, mommy?” Evie asked, her big eyes looking at her mom.

“Can you make sure all the presents are kept neatly under the tree?” Jill asked her in return.

“Okay” she replied, simply, not understanding why she had to go but doing it anyway.

Once she was out of earshot, Jill turned to Y/N. “Okay. Spill.”

Y/N took the next few moments to tell Jill everything that had happened with Mark.

“Fuck” Jill remarked, not knowing what to say.

“Yeah” Y/N nodded.

A short pause fell between them as Jill thought about everything her sister just told her.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Jill asked, her eyes teary.

“I didn’t want you guys to worry about me” Y/N replied, shaking her head. “And don’t tell mom and dad, they’d freak out. I’ll tell them myself at a later stage.”

Jill sighed, but nodded. “Okay.”

“Thank you” Y/N smiled, softly. She bit her lip, wondering if she should tell her sister about Dean too. Maybe it was too soon?

Jill tapped her fingers on the table as she watched her sister, her face looking like her brain was overloaded with thoughts.

“There’s something else” Jill said, knowingly. “Isn’t there?”

Y/N looked at her sister, tentatively. She wasn’t sure if she should say it or not.

Jill cocked her head to the side, a smile gracing her face as she understood. “Who is he?”

Y/N scoffed, impressed with her sister’s intuition.

She spent another couple of minutes telling Jill everything about Dean. She felt a smile tug at her lips as she talked about him. After everything she had been through in the past, and then with Mark, she thought for minute back there she’d never be able to think of dating someone again, but things were different with Dean.

“So… when you get back, what’s going to happen?” Jill asked, curious about what she was thinking of doing.

“I… don’t know, but… I know that he’s it now” Y/N replied, her smile growing.

Jill smiled. “I gotta say, I’ve never seen you like this. Yeah sure, you’ve been with a few guys, but this is different.”

“It feels different this time” Y/N nodded. “I don’t want to get my hopes up, but… it feels like this is it. And I know he’s some years older than me, but that doesn’t matter to me.”

Truth be told, men who were slightly older than her were a turn on for her. Plus, she had only ever been with guys her own age. Maybe it was time for a change.

In that moment, Y/N’s baby niece started to fuss in Jill’s lap.

“Oh, honey. You can’t be hungry, I just fed you” Jill said, frowning as she didn’t know what was wrong.

Y/N got up and walked over to their side of the table. She slowly picked up the baby and held her close, lightly bouncing her. Little Mia smiled and Jill smiled, too.

“She just needs a little lovin’ from her aunt” Y/N smiled, kissing her niece’s chubby cheek.

Jill admired her sister with the baby. “You look good like that.”

“Stop” Y/N laughed, shaking her head. She didn’t need those thoughts in her head at that moment. She had always loved children, and couldn’t wait to have her own, but she wondered if Dean was the one who she would have them with. Did he even want any?

The doorbell rang and interrupted them. Y/N gave little Mia back to Jill and walked to the front door. She screamed when she opened it and saw Katie smiling at her. The friends hugged tightly, laughing.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Katie said, swaying them side to side.

“Me too” Y/N tearfully told her, letting go of her and letting her into the house. “You just missed girl talk, though.”

“Well, catch me up. I’m all ears” Katie said, walking into the house, taking off her coat.

Y/N laughed as she followed behind her, ready to divulge everything she told Jill to her best friend as well.

The next day brought a whirlwind of familial chaos, as Y/N’s family got everything ready for Christmas Eve dinner. Christmas carols were playing in the background, as her mom worked on the ham, her dad helped with all the sides and her sister was in charge of decorating the rest of the house, the table and setting it. Brian was keeping the kids entertained and Y/N was making pudding and few other treats for dessert.

It took all day, but they finally got everything ready and in time for dinner. As everyone got dressed and ready, Y/N took some time to admire the house. The lights were dimmed, the candles were lit, and everything was bathed in a beautiful glow. The lights on the tree were shining, and the fireplace crackled, adding to the ambience of the room. She was so glad to be here with her family and to spend this time with them.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas,

Let your heart be light

From now on,

Our troubles will be out of sight

She quickly had a shower, and then got ready for dinner in a red, A-line dress, with sleeves that came to her mid-forearm. She pinned her Y/H/C hair into a bun, a few strands framing her face. She put on her nude heels and then went downstairs to join her family.

Dinner was absolutely divine, and her mom had outdone herself, yet again. Everything from the ham to the pudding for dessert was perfect, and everyone was absolutely stuffed by the end. They all relaxed on the couch and sang some carols, drank eggnog and enjoyed the fact that they were all together again. For the first time in a long time, Y/N had no fear about Ethan or Mark, or any of the other troubles she had had in the past. All she needed was her family and hoped that the man who she had fallen in love from the minute she saw him, would also be a permanent figure in her life.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas,

Make the Yule-tide gay,

From now on,

Our troubles will be miles away

It was pretty much the same vibe over at the Winchesters.

Mary had assigned jobs for everyone, stating to the boys that they weren’t getting out of it just because they didn’t live at home anymore. She made Eileen and Sam come early as well as Dean, so that they could all do their assigned jobs.

Once everything was ready before dinner, everyone put on their ugly Christmas sweaters, a Winchester tradition that was something silly but fun. Bobby, Ellen and Jo arrived, and they all greeted each other. They sat around talking and laughing as they ate, and afterwards sat around on the couches, listening to carols while drinking eggnog. No one trusted Sam with it anymore, so it was Eileen’s job to mix it since she joined their family. Dean smiled as he looked around at his family, content for the first time in years.

Here we are as in olden days,

Happy golden days of yore

Loving friends who are dear to us,

Gather near to us once more

However, Dean was the first one to notice when Eileen wasn’t drinking any. He gestured to her and then signed “are you okay?”, which was just one of the things of what little he knew, but he was trying to get better at it. She nodded and then smiled at Sam. They had a small conversation between themselves, before Sam turned to everyone with a huge smile on his face.

“Well, now’s as good a time as any to tell you… we’re having a baby” he said, beaming. “Eileen’s 16 weeks in.”

Dean’s eyes widened but his smile grew as he got up, and hugged his brother first, Mary and Eileen hugging as Mary cried. Everyone hugged the expecting parents, before they all sat back down.

“Congratulations, guys” Dean said, as he returned to one side of the couch. “That’s awesome, seriously.”

Sam smiled as he kissed Eileen’s cheek. “Thanks, Dean.”

“Oh, I can’t wait for my first grandchild!” Mary exclaimed, as John kissed her head.

Dean’s mind wandered off as Eileen and Sam were talking about moving into a bigger place. Mary was listening intently, but Dean couldn’t focus on the conversation. He couldn’t have been happier for his little brother and sister-in-law. They were going to make great parents; he knew that to be the absolute truth. However, he couldn’t help but feel an unexpected sadness wash over him. He never thought of himself as the “having kids” type of guy, hell, he never pictured himself in a serious relationship. That was when he was younger though. As he got older, he realized he wanted those things, and even though he was happy for Sam, he felt a little jealous sometimes that his little brother would have all of that before he did.

The last year of his life had been a waste, as he tried to salvage a relationship with Lisa. He couldn’t help but think where he would be if he had broken up with her a year ago. Mostly likely with Y/N as soon as she got to Lawrence he thought as he tried to concentrate on the conversation his family was having. It was no use though, as his mind continued torment him with the possibilities that could’ve been, if he had just claimed his freedom sooner.

Dean silently excused himself and walked out to the back porch of his childhood home. He let out a long breath, seeing it cloud up in the cold. He sipped the eggnog, feeling the kick of the alcohol warm him up. He smiled sadly as he thought about Y/N, so far away from him, in New York with her own family. He wondered what she wanted from life and whether their wants would align, whether having a family was something she wanted or not. He really hoped so.

“Merry freakin’ Christmas” he mumbled to himself. He never had a problem with being alone, but as he got older it had started to become a fear for him. Maybe that was why it took so long to see the whole truth with Lisa.

“Sure is” he heard someone say behind him. He turned and saw his mom standing behind him.

“I’ll be back in soon, mom” he said, turning away from her.

“Actually” she started as she stood next to him and faced him. “I was thinking we could talk.”

“About?” he asked, staring down at his eggnog.

Mary was quiet for a moment before she spoke. “Who is she?”

Dean scoffed as he closed his eyes. Of course his mom had figured it out.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, his jaw clenched. “She’s… she’s the best person I’ve ever known and… I have no idea if I should do anything about this because honestly, she deserves more than me.”

“Isn’t that up to her?” Mary asked, knowingly. “If you’re spending so much time with her, and I know you have because I’ve hardly seen you over the last few weeks, then doesn’t that mean that she wants to give you a chance?”

Dean blinked a few times as he took in what Mary just said. “I guess.”

“Then all you have to is take the leap” Mary smiled.

Dean nodded slowly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Yeah.”

Mary nodded. “Just know, you have to bring her here because we need to meet her.”

Dean groaned and laughed, shaking his head. “Great.”

Mary smiled, leaning over to kiss his cold cheek. “Come inside soon, it’s way too cold.”

“I will” he promised as he watched her go back in.

Dean smirked as he thought about how Y/N would actually fit in with his family. He knew he needed to muster up the courage and just ask her out. Let go of the fear that had developed because of everything that had happened with Lisa. Maybe it was too soon after, but the truth was, he didn’t want more time. He was ready to be happy.

Through the years

We all be together,

If the Fates allow

Hang a shining star upon the highest bough.

At midnight, Y/N and her family all wished each other a Merry Christmas, before they cleared everything up and each of them headed to bed. They would be up in several hours again, to open the presents anyway. As she went upstairs, there was one thing she needed to do before she headed to bed. Walking into her room, she shut the door and walked over to her carry-on bag. She opened it and found the present from Dean. She moved the bag back to the floor and then sat down on her bed, the present in her hand.

She laughed a little as she saw the envelope on it had her name but also “READ AFTER OPENING” in Dean’s all caps writing. She opened the wrapping, frowning when the thing was wrapped in brown paper as well. She unwrapped the brown paper, noticing that it was a very old but beautiful, hardcover book. She frowned again, but as she turned the book around and saw the spine, she gasped loudly.

In her hand, was an early edition of her favorite novel of all time, Jane Eyre. Y/N’s eyes widened as they started to well up with tears. She remembered telling him it was her favorite at dinner with him. It was yet another thing he remembered about her, the Led Zeppelin album being the first. She felt the tears rolling down her face as she opened the book, slowly flicking through it. She closed it and hugged it to her chest. She couldn’t believe he had done this for her.

She put the book in her lap and picked up the envelope, opening it and sliding the card out. Opening the card, she smiled through tears as she read his words.

Merry Christmas, sweetheart.

I hate that you’re not here with me, but I can’t wait until you’re back. There’s a lot that I wanna say, but I’ve never been good with words. So, I’m just gonna do my best.

I’ve never been surer of anything, than I am that you’re the greatest person that I’ll ever know. You’re beautiful, smart, strong as all hell, and have the kindest heart of anyone I know. I know how freaking lucky I am that you’re in my life.

I hope this present lets you know how much you mean to me. How much you’ll always mean to me.

Y/N, this is it for me. You’re it for me. I need you to know that.

Have an amazing time with your family and I’ll see you as soon as you get back.

Dean

She laughed through her tears, shaking her head. She had never been surer of anything either; that he was the greatest man she had ever known. That she was so madly in love with him, and she couldn’t wait to tell him that someday.

And have yourself a merry little Christmas

When it reached midnight in Kansas, Dean said a quick “Merry Christmas” to everyone, but everyone kept wondering why he was heading off so quickly.

“You know, you can just stay the night to open presents in the morning” Mary told him as she handed out warm cider to everybody.

“No, there’s uh… something I gotta do” Dean said, putting his jacket on.

“Something or… someone?” Jo asked, smiling suspiciously.

“Shut up, Jo” he groaned, glaring at her.

Jo laughed as she and Sam looked at each other.

“Seriously, what’s the rush, kid?” Bobby asked, curiously.

“Can a man not have a little time to himself anymore? Jeez” Dean grumbled, shaking his head.

“Alright, everyone leave him alone” Mary said, calming everyone down. “He’ll be back soon anyway.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek, patting his shoulder.

He would be back in several hours anyway to open presents with everyone, but at that moment he had to see what was awaiting him.

When he got home, he walked over to the big present from Y/N, resting against a wall in his living room. He chuckled as he looked over the size of it, wondering what the hell she had gotten him. He opened the large bow, letting it fall away. He dug his finger into the edge of the wrapping and ripped it open, at every side to see the present more clearly.

“Holy shit” he gasped as his mouth open in awe.

The present was a large black frame, with a black and white photo of his beloved Baby, shining away in the sun. It looked like his backyard in the background of it, and he had to wonder how she took this photo. On the corner of the frame was an envelope with his name written on it. He took it and opened it, smirking as he saw her handwriting.

Merry Christmas, Dean!

I took this photo for you to hang in your new office at the restoration site. There’s nothing better to convince the customers to bring their cars to you than a picture of Baby.

I’m so proud of you for everything you’re working towards. It’s going to bring so many amazing things your way; don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

I hope that the new year brings you everything you wish for, because if there’s anyone who deserves it, it’s you. You’ve been an amazing support to me, and I’ll never forget everything you’ve done for me. Ever.

I can’t wait to see you when I get back and just be near you again.

Y/N xx

He smirked as he read over the note a few times. She really was something else. He couldn’t believe that someone like her would want someone like him, but he knew how lucky he was that she was in his life.

And have yourself a merry little Christmas

He looked at the clock and saw that it was ten past midnight, which meant it was ten past 1am in New York. Y/N was probably asleep, but he really wanted to speak to her. He sent her a quick text, asking if she was awake. When he got a reply instantly that she was, he dialled her number. In New York, Y/N sat up instantly when her phone rang and picked it up.

“Hi” she said, smiling. “Dean, I… I don’t even know what to say.”

“Did I make the English teacher speechless?” he teased with a smirk on his face.

“Yes” she admitted. “Dean, it’s… thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Dean smiled. “Well, it’s like I’ve said before, sweetheart. You don’t ever have to thank me.”

“Did you… did you mean it? What you said?” she asked. She already knew it was the truth, but she just needed to hear it. She just needed to know for certain.

“Yes” he replied. There was no pause. No hesitation.

Y/N felt tears welling up in her eyes all over again. “You’re… you’re it for me, too.”

Dean smiled, feeling like his heart would burst from her confession that she felt the same.

“Thanks for the photo. It’s so freaking awesome, Y/N” he smirked as he looked over at it.

“You’re welcome” she said, smiling. “But Dean, now our presents are totally uneven. This would’ve been so expensive-” she said as she picked the book, but Dean cut her off.

“Hey, no. It’s not about that, okay? I knew… I knew that I wanted you to have it. Plus, with Dorothy’s help it wasn’t too expensive, so we’re good” he reassured her.

“Okay” she said, nodding.

Dean looked up at the time and knew he should end the call. “I should let you go. Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean” she smiled as they both hung up the phone.

That morning, as they fell asleep for a few more hours before they had to wake up again, even with miles and miles between them, they fell asleep with dreams of each other. They fell into a peaceful slumber, knowing this was the start of something magical for both of them.

And have yourself a merry little Christmas now

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @katehuntington @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma​ @parinarain​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @mandalou29​ @castiels-a-winchester @ellewritesfix05​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @supraveng​ @roonyxx​ @supernatural-love14​ @vicmc624​ @prettyboyswow​ @lunarmoon8​

[nicka-nell]

Osamu, fluff, 13, 30, childhood friends and Ukai, angst, 26, 46 thanks!

A heartbreaking break-up (Ukai x reader)

Childhood friends to lovers (Osamu x reader)

Aiii Ukai angst. Poor old man, I love him, but well I hope it’s angsty enough. TT.TT I hope you like it ♥

Valentine’s Day - Prompt Event | Masterlist (coming soon)

Pairing: Ukai x reader

Warning: angst, a hint of nsfw, cheating, break-up, mention of alcohol

Prompts:

26. “They don’t need to know.”

46. “Did you at least think of me, when you were having sex with her?”

In a relationship, there are always difficulties. You too had experienced a lot together. At that time you were still a manager in the last school year, when Ukai came to your school and started as a coach.

You had gotten along well, and it didn’t take long for both of you to understand that there was a closer connection between you than between all the others. It didn’t take long for the two of you to be alone in the gym, which you still wanted to clean up when he had unexpectedly kissed you. It also happened quickly that the two of you had decided on this secret love, because as long as you were in school, no one should know that you were together.

It was hard for you to act like you always did. Also, for him it was difficult at that time to see how the boys had flirted with you and he could do nothing about it. You fought a lot, but after you graduated, everything was different.

You could officially go outside as a couple, were in love and had rarely arguments. If you’ve had a fight, it’s about things that every couple argues about. Sometimes it was about Ukai always putting his coffee cup on the dishwasher, and not directly into it, or also about you always sticking your hair to the tiles under the shower and not rinsing them away.

Now over five years have passed, unfortunately, everyday life catches up with you before you graduate. Because you fight repeatedly. Mostly for no reason for small things that degenerate into a big argument.

So far that you lie in bed crying while Ukai sleeps on your sofa in the living room. Sometimes he was even away for days, had used the room in his shop as a retreat. Yet he was always the one who came back, who had apologized and told you over and over again that you could do everything together. Still, everything feels weird to you.

You meet your old schoolmate and talk to him about all your worries and fears. But he only tells you that you should not worry and should just trust Ukai. And so you do. This time, you want to trust him more, want to be the one who apologizes to him for all your disputes.

So you go to his favorite whisky shop. You look there for a whisky he does not have yet and also buy him a pack of his favorite cigarettes as well as a book with different volleyball strategies. That would certainly help him as a coach.

Adorned with a sweet gift basket, you take the apology gift into your hands, look at the kitchen clock again before you make your way to your old school and his place of instruction. When you arrive, all the students should be gone, only Ukai should be in the hall. Maybe just one or the other student who wants some tips.

The buttons of her blouse rattle as they fall to the ground, Ukai’s hands move hastily over her shapely upper body, while his lips passionately kiss her neck. “Haaah fuck, Keishin! We haa… We should stop.” She only cries as she pulls his head up and shoves her tongue down his throat. 

Her cheeks are red, her eyes large and round, her lips already swollen, and the dark red lipstick barely on her lips. “What if someone shows up? What if we get caught? That wouldn’t be good for both of us.” She breathes in a shaky voice as she spreads her legs so that Ukai can thrust into her better.

“They don’t need to know. And nobody’s going to find out if you keep your voice quiet.” He whispers as he continues to kiss her neck before hitting the fat of her thighs and pressing deep into her one last time before he comes. He plays on her bud until she also comes to her climax loudly and falls behind on the coarse sports mat.

Without really paying much attention to her, he steps away and draws the condom from his now half-stiff member as he knots it together and throws it into the trash can next to him before putting on his pants again.

The hall is empty as you step into it, but Ukai’s bag is still next to the entrance. Thoughtfully you look through the sports hall when you suddenly hear a loud moan from the storeroom. Your entire body is suddenly constricting.

You feel your heart stopping, afraid of what to expect when you go there. But your body moves on its own, taking you to the room where Ukai and you used to spend a lot of time. Your hand trembles terribly as you lay it on the door handle and open the door, hoping you have misheard and there is nothing to find behind this door except an empty storage room. But it’s not like that.

Because all you see is your beloved boyfriend closing his belt, his sweater still in the corner on the floor, while a young woman is lying on the sports mat. The young new gym teacher Ukai told you about. The teacher that Ukai found terribly tiring, loud and annoying.

And now she lies there, with the top open, the skirt and panties only sloppily pulled to the side, as if the two had no time. Trembling, she lifts her chest up and down as if she had just had her best orgasm. “Kei… shin?”

Like a loud siren, your soft, shaky voice enters Ukai’s ears. Let his heart come to a standstill as his eyes look at you, frightened.

They’re looking at the face he’s been seeing every day for years. On the lips, he kisses every day. The eyes he looks at every time he tells you he loves you more than anything. But they don’t shine.

No, your face is full of disappointment, full of sorrow, your lip trembles terribly and your otherwise shiny eyes now shine from the tears you are trying to hold back frantically. But you can’t hold them back anymore.

They roll over the cheeks, which Ukai had always pinched, when you once again told him that he had grown old, when he rubbed his back and complained how much it hurts. 

You keep silent for a long time until you turn around and try to get out of here as soon as possible. But Ukai’s body acts faster than yours, as his hand grasps your wrist, draws you to him when he looks into your crying eyes.

“Did you at least think of me, when you were having sex with her?” You yell at him, but he won’t answer. He just looks at you like he doesn’t know what to do. “How long are you doing it with… her?!” You keep screaming, your voice is accompanied by your sniffle. But Ukai doesn’t say a word.

You feel so silly; you wanted to make things right. That you worried, while he’s probably been sleeping with that disgusting woman for weeks, if not months. Disgusted, you pull away from him, turn around to leave the hall, but you quickly feel Ukai’s arms as they wrap around your body.

“I’m so sorry… I am so sorry Y/n. I don’t even know what got into me. I don’t even know why I did it. But believe me when I tell you, it was just today. This one time, and I know it’s one time too many.”

Your whole body trembles in his arms. With every word that comes out of his mouth, your body quivers more and more. With grief, with disappointment, with anger.

“I’m an incredible idiot. An asshole. But please, I love you Y/n. I’ve always loved you, and God damn it, I still love you so much. Please forgive me, I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately. Please forgive me this last time. I want to make it up to you. Please let me show you I’m sorry. Please… don’t go!” Now his voice trembles even more than your own body, but you can no longer hear his words.

You pull yourself away from him one last time with full force, throw him the basket with the gifts at his feet and whisper to him quietly that it is too late for his apologies. Just for a brief moment he looks at the gift basket, at the content that makes him happy, because there is so much love in it.

But when he looks up in the direction you were standing before, there’s nothing left. But Ukai knows he can fix it. After all, you two are destined for each other. You’re his young bird and he’s your old cat.

But when Ukai comes home, the apartment is empty. He knows you need some time for yourself, and he knows it’s not right to call you right now. So he waits. Because you were meant to be together.

Yet even after a week, the apartment is empty, just as empty as the whiskey you gave him. Even after a month, it’s as empty as his heart. Still, after more than two years, the apartment is empty and cold. Lonely without you. 

Your things weren’t in the apartment after a week, because you picked them up while he was at work. His T-shirt, which you always wore, doesn’t smell like you anymore. He bought your perfume, sprayed it on his T-shirt so he could at least carry your scent. But this is not the same. Because your scent was different. Everything is different without you. Cold and dreary.

The messages he sends you are always one-sided, because you do not answer. Even your friends won’t tell him anything. Your coworkers, too, because they won’t let him see you. He can’t even go to your new apartment because he doesn’t know where you are.

You had disappeared from the scene. In front of the stores where you’ve always been, you weren’t anymore. There was no trace of you in any of the places you used to visit together. Only your photos show him what he had done wrong.

That he’d thrown away the love of his life for a woman he couldn’t even stand. Only photos and his memory of you remain. Because you’re gone, and you always will be.

How long has it been since you met those two brothers? Actually, as long as you can remember. Because when you started crawling on your knees and hands on the floor, the two guys have already taken their first steps. When you went to school, the two of them were one class above you and they were always looking out for you. Even in high school, the two have always had a watchful eye.

Pairing: Osamu x reader (childhood friends to lovers)

Warning: just fluff

Prompts: 

13. “You can’t say you haven’t thought about it? I have.”

30. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

The better they thought it was that you took the job as manager of the volleyball club. Because that way they could take care of you even better. But even though both boys had tried to protect their little girl, Osamu was always the one you liked more. Then he was like a knight to you.

Back then, it was Osamu who always let you play volleyball with them. You were not good at volleyball, and at every practice Atsumu had only tossed Osamu the ball.

Your gaze got sadder and sadder, your tears were almost tingling, and all you really wanted to do was leave when Osamu gave you the ball and told you with a slim smile that you were going to make it.

When you fell, he was the one who wiped the tears from your eyes, who glued a band-aid over the tiny graze wound and said that everything was going to be fine. He was also the one who comforted you at your first lovesickness. The one who comforted you in your second relationship. He’s always been there for you.

And at some point, you also had to realize that he was not only there for you, but that he was also the one for whom you feel more than just friendship. But is that right? No… Because you are friends, always have been and always will be. At least if you don’t tell him about your feelings. If you do, you’re sure you’ll destroy your friendship.

So you try to plunge back into a relationship that distracts you from your true feelings for a brief moment. At the end, even this one doesn’t last long and you quickly find yourself back in Osamu’s arms.

“When are you gonna tell her, idiot?” Hisses Atsumu, who stands annoyed in the doorframe of his brother’s room. But Osamu is just sitting at his desk, watching a cooking video on his laptop, while his thoughts are somewhere else. 

“Don’t ignore me, Samu!” His brother shouts angrily to him, as he suddenly stands right next to him and flicks his forefinger and thumb against his forehead. “Are you out of your mind, you fool? What are you doing here?” Osamu tries to sound angry, but his voice is calm, almost bored, just like his expression. 

“You told me months ago that you’d be the happier one of us both. You and your shop! Then change this and don’t cry like a stupid crybaby! Go to her and tell her you love her, or I will!” Groaning, he grabs his brother’s jersey collar, shakes him several times until their two faces only minimally are separate from each other.

But it does not take long until the blond man’s back touches the ground, with a dull sound and Osamu is now sitting on him. “Shut your mouth! You have no idea! You can’t understand this because you’ve never been so good friends with her. My feelings for her don’t matter! If she’s happy, I’m happy too, so stay out of it if you do not know, idiot!” He yells at him before the two men start fighting like they used to back in childhood. Rolling back and forth on the floor, slapping each other in the face and throwing stupid sayings at each other’s heads.

“Stop talking shit like that! You’d be happy with her! Not if only she’s happy! But I don’t care, do what you want. This is your life you’re screwing up. I’m going to bed. Because I have an important game tomorrow! Right, a game with MY volleyball club. With the club that makes me happy! Because I AM happy!” 

Without even waiting for an answer from Osamu, he slams the bedroom door and leaves his twin alone in silence. “It is best to prepare the dough the day before, as it must rest for twenty-four hours.” When Osamu hears the cook talking from his laptop, he gets up and looks at the video, where he doesn’t even know why he turned it on in the first place.

“Fuck it…” He just curses, folds his laptop and walks into the hallway to put on his shoes and jacket. This conversation has given him a headache, and fresh air is best for him. His hands hide in his pocket, his face is serious as he looks up into the bright moon. Only it glows in the sky. Not a single star is visible.

Again and again Atsumu’s words go through his head, and again he has to agree with his brother. And it annoys him…

Osamu doesn’t know how long he’s been walking around. But he doesn’t want to go home now. He doesn’t want to go back to the place where his brother’s voice gets in his head. He has no desire to listen to Atsumu, that he currently has such a much happier life than he. Because it’s true. Atsumu has everything he wanted. An fantastic volleyball career.

Even the grey-haired man has his Onigiri shop. And he was sure that this would make him completely fulfilled and happy. But this one piece of the puzzle is missing. The last part you need to make a puzzle into a complete picture. You. 

Shaking his head, he lowers it, as he looks forward when he suddenly finds himself in front of a door so familiar to him. Without knowing it, he wandered around the area to end up standing in front of a front door that makes his heart beat several beats faster. On your doorstep.

No, he has to leave. Whatever brought him here has to get him home now. Convinced to turn around and walk, his body acts as if another person were controlling it. Because instead of leaving, he rings.

His hand gets sweaty despite the cold outside. For a blink of an eye, he quickly thinks about turning around and leaving. It’s already the middle of the night and it’s quite possible that you’re already asleep. Yeah, he should go. Osamu just wants to put one foot back, move his body as the creaking wood makes him swallow and puts his body in a heat wave.

Tired, you stand before him, your hair stands out in all directions, he can see sleep in the corners of your eyes. Only your cute plush socks and an old T-shirt adorn your body. His Shirt. 

“Samu? What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.” It hurts him to see you like this. In his things and knowing that you will never be his. It hurts him to know that he’s leaving right now and you’ll only see each other again as friends. Still, he just doesn’t know where to go at the moment.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” He says so quietly that you can only guess his words. But you open the door just one more piece, grab his icy hand and drag him into your apartment. You want to know if anything happened, but he just shakes his head thoughtfully.

It’s stupid of Osamu to think you can’t see through his lie. Sighing, you drag him into your living room, letting him understand without a word that he should sit down before you leave him for a moment.

Immersed in his thoughts, he does not notice how you come back with a delicious smelling green tea. You hand it over to him with your beautifully shining eyes as your fingers brush for a lash. “Thank you.” He breathes calmly, looking into the greenish water, just to see his reflection.

He doesn’t notice your hands trying to find their way to his lap. How they lie down on it and your eyes look up to him under your long eyelashes. You say nothing, just look while he smiles back at you almost sad, and puts the tea on the table, just to place your hands in his and drive his thumb over the back of your hand. He had often wondered what it would feel like to have your fingers linked, what it’s like to kiss them and look at your face full of love.

Osamu does not know what is going on in his head, but completely absent-minded, he opens his mouth while his gaze still remains on your hands. “Your hands are so soft Y/n. I’d love to know how soft your lips feel.” 

Too late, he realizes that he has heard his voice not only in the head. Because your hands twitch briefly in his, making him look into your glowing and totally surprised face. Osamu’s heart is beating wildly. His pulse is racing and he knows it’s too late now to talk his way out of this situation. Again Atsumu’s words return to his thoughts.

Say her. 

You guys have been friends for so long when he first start thinking about things like kissing you for the first time. So maybe you did that too sometime? He has to try. He has to risk it. Or is he just ruining everything?

“I mean… You can’t say you haven’t thought about it? I have.” He tries to be as serious as possible, hoping you don’t realize how nervous he actually is. But his hands press yours even more tightly when you do not answer him, just simply look at him silently with big eyes.

He’s the one who destroyed it. Your friendship. Everything you’ve built together. All these years destroyed in a moment. If he were alone now, he would punch his fist against a wall, or just lie in silence in his bed.

“So did I, Samu.” Your voice is only silent in his ears, but for him your words were crystal clear. You didn’t abandon him. No, but you didn’t say you felt that way too. At least at the moment.

Hesitantly, you move a little closer to the gray-haired man. You won’t let go of his hands for a second. 

In the yellowish glowing ceiling light, you keep silent, look the other only quietly in the eyes, while you listen to your own loud beating heart. And before he knows it, Osamu’s face is just a nose tip away from yours. He can feel your breath on his lips. Smells your sweet scent and realizes that you’re still not backing off.

That your hands hold his, like you’re afraid he’ll let you go. No, he just has to try. It’s now or never. “Will… Will you allow me to kiss you?” He whispers softly to you, drawing you with his dark eyes into his spell.

He makes you speechless, even though you want to say something. But your voice just doesn’t come. Instead, you nod slowly, looking down at his mouth until you close your eyes and feel his warm lips.

Your grip on his hands becomes looser, which makes Osamu detach from them and gently encloses your cheek with one hand, while his other moves to the back of your head and pulls you closer to his body.

Your lips are soft, your body warm and your taste wonderful. He won’t let you go, nor do you want to. As if he were afraid of losing you, he buries his hand in your hair, pressing you even closer to him. No, he won’t let you go again, because you’re his last piece of the puzzle. The piece he missed to be happy.

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 26

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 26 - Photograph

From the South Third Ring Road overpass, turn right and cross a small road covered by empress trees to reach Shenjiayuan.

The fragments of low-rise buildings and the chaotic street stalls on both sides of the street were standoffish in such a modern city. However, this was one of the country's famous antique marketplaces, and tens of thousands of people came here every day with lots of money to spend, risking being baked by the sun and getting heatstroke by lingering around each of the stalls, hoping to find one or two hidden treasures stashed away in a corner somewhere. It was an industry gaining some traction. There were many speculators, collectors, tourists, calligraphers, painters, and even gamblers among them. They firmly believe that a city thousands of years old hid unknown wealth somewhere. It was this mentality that gave them a similar look; intoxicated and wild-eyed with a long outstretched tongue, drooling over the crude high antique imitations on the stalls.

This was the place where Lin Yan made countless memories when he was a teenager. The middle school he went to was nearby. After school, he often came here alone with his schoolbag on his back. Back then, there weren't as many people. There was a very polluted river nearby that hadn't been turned into a landfill yet. The air was always filled with the smell of stinky salted fish. The vendors who set up stalls hadn't yet learned to casually laze about while sneaking glances at the faces of customers to judge how much money they could cheat out of them.

The old days were like rolls of yellowed newspapers. A young man in a light blue school uniform walked through it, exchanging his pocket money for a piece of colored glaze from the late Qing Dynasty. He squatted in front of a stall to sift through the options. The old man at the stall was smoking a cigarette while telling the story of Liulichang in the late Qing Dynasty. Lin Yan didn't know why he was only interested in street stalls when kids his age were saving up to buy posters of celebrities. Just like when they were gushing over the Belgian chocolates their relatives brought home, he was still obsessed for years with the pot full of honey hard candy the old lady in front of the school had.

The wood, rice paper, and the dusty rusticity of the old objects held a taste of time, and teenage Lin Yan couldn't help but be immersed in it. Like a lone fish in the stream.

The sun was shining on the ground at 3 o'clock that afternoon. Lin Yan carried a bulging bag in his left hand and a cup of roasted sencha milk tea in his right. He paced slowly in the crowd, the grass green V-neck T-shirt and cotton calf-length pants standing out. He didn't know why antique hunters liked to wear black, the dust on their clothes making them look like they had just crawled out of the ground.

"Here, it's weirdly hot. Do you want a sip?" Lin Yan shook the milk tea, the ice cube hitting the wall of the cup with a soft thud. Onlookers thought he was talking to the air when actually there was an invisible person next to him helping take off some of the weight of the bag. That mean, even though Lin Yan was carrying a lot of things, it didn't take much effort.

Xiao Yu lowered his head and took a sip where Lin Yan had touched. He bit on the straw a few times and turned his head.

Lin Yan wanted to laugh a little, and brought the cup back to the corner of his mouth.

A-Yan said that Xiao Yu might remember more following him around, so Lin Yan took him to the antique market after breakfast, hoping that something from his own time period might bring something back. Who would've guessed that, after going through all these stalls, lots of purchases were made but there was no progress with the ghost's memory. Lin Yan glanced at the bag in his hand. It was stuffed with clothes bought from a well-known Hanfu store in Shenjiayuan. They were well-made and expensive. Most people only bought them to complete a Hanfu set for their collection. For Lin Yan to buy these kinds of clothes on a daily errand, that was really a rare sight. Even the clerk couldn't help but do a double take.

Xiao Yu didn't understand the time they were currently living in, so he stood his ground and refused to adapt his style to the times. Lin Yan rolled his eyes and glared at him bitterly. He thought, you're the boss here making me throw away my money while I'm just your servant who follows behind you and pays.

Right after they left one store, before he could recover from the purchase, Xiao Yu suddenly stopped when he passed a woodworking shop. Lin Yan looked at the store’s gorgeous decorations and pieces of pearwood and red sandalwood furniture, whining that he really couldn't afford this stuff. Xiao Yu ignored him and dragged him inside. Thirty minutes later, Lin Yan swiped his card to check out under the watchful eye of the clerk and bought a beautiful Tongzhi wood guqin.

"Oh great ancestor, what more do you want?" Lin Yan tucked the order slip from the woodworking shop into his pocket and glared daggers at Xiao Yu.

Xiao Yu shook his head nonchalantly.

There were more people on the street. Some of them didn't know the treasures that they had found, and they couldn't hide their excitement, sneaking a peek at what they have just bought. Some of them had grim faces, looking like they had been ripped off. There were also groups of foreign tourists wearing Lei Feng hats gathered at the roadside to buy shadow puppets. Occasionally, they turned around and curiously look at the antique city, which was built in the traditional Chinese-style.

In the market area to the south, there were large ancient buildings imitating Ming and Qing style architecture. The bustling narrow street seemed like scene straight out of the Water Margin. The wooden window on the second floor were pushed up, supported by a short stick. Looking up, he could see customers sipping tea. The shopkeeper was a short man, busily carrying a large teapot back and forth.

The narrow street lead to a large emerald-green stall covered with plastic tarps to offer shade from the sun. Lin Yan and Xiao Yu walked under the shadow of the tarps when they heard a familiar voice yelling loudly.

"Look at how green the colour is and how good the water head* is! You won't be able to find another one at this price anywhere in Shenjiayuan!" The peddler selling jade pieces had a round belly, one foot on the stool, holding up a transparent fortune bracelet, spittle flying everywhere. The plainly dressed middle-aged woman in front of the stall looked hesitant. She took the bracelet and took another look at it.

*(T/N: Water head [水头] refers to how light shines through jade. Kind of like how the light would look if it were shining through water. There's a list of transparencies if you want to look at how jade is graded, but basically the best jade has a vivid colour with even transparency across the whole piece.)

"It's too expensive, lower the price a bit." The woman said sincerely.

"It's so green, so transparent, I can't go any lower. Miss, if you want a lower price, it'll affect my livelihood. Don't waste my time." The peddler grabbed the bracelet, his eyes bulging.

"I wanted to buy it for my daughter as a birthday gift. It's too expensive. It'd be a pity if she dropped it. Give me the lowest you can go."

"Here." The peddler rolled his eyes. He took out his calculator, punched in a few numbers, and showed it to the woman in front of him, "Is this all right? I can't go any lower!"

Lin Yan couldn't help but lean over and glance at the numbers on the screen. He let out a laugh.

The peddler squinted at him.

Lin Yan shook his head. He took the bracelet and said to the woman: "Don't buy this, he's fooling you."

"Hey, hey, what are you trying to say? I'm running an honest business here. If you don't believe me, go around and ask. . ."

Lin Yan smirked. He put the roasted sencha tea cup on the stall and held the bracelet at a different angle. The curved surface reflected the light from the plastic roof. He said to the woman buying the bracelet: "Look at the blurred edges of the reflection. If you look closely, you can see that there are very fine meshes on the surface." Lin Yan raised the bracelet to let the light through. "There is purple fluorescence inside, indicating that the reason this bracelet is so transparent because of acid washing and a glue filling."

"Also, notice how the green is only sitting on the surface and doesn't reach the middle. That means it was dyed after the fact. This thing is worth one or two hundred yuan. Don't buy it."

The peddler's nose and eyes scrunched up. At first glance, they looked like a dried walnut.

"Oh." The middle-aged woman hurriedly stuffed an envelope containing the money back into her bag, repeatedly thanking Lin Yan.

When she left, the peddler huffed. Pissed, he turned his head away, not looking at Lin Yan. Even his swollen belly seemed to be flatter than before.

"What else should I do when I notice that someone with money on the street?"

Lin Yan roughly flicked the peddler's forehead: "Everyone here has money. It's embarrassing to lie like this, there's no skill in it."

Several surrounding stalls burst out laughing. The peddler rolled his eyes back to normal. He grabbed Lin Yan’s milk tea and poured a few mouthfuls out of the plastic lid. He muttered while he crunched on the ice cubes: “I don't fool people in this business. It's not my fault their eyesight is poor. No refunds is the standard."

This much was true. Antique jade sales rely on good eyesight. Figuring out which store has more genuine products than fake depends on the customer. They can't return them either so the shop doesn't have to admit they were fakes. Lin Yan clicked his tongue: "These people don't know what to look for. You're just trying to make your father think you're good at this job."

The peddler rolled his eyes, knowing that he was in a bad position and couldn't say anything.

Lin Yan had been a frequent visitor to this antique market since he was a child. Since choosing his major in university, he preferred to come to the small stalls to practice his appraisal skills when he had nothing else to do. See what was selling for a high price but was bought for a low price. He was also kind and helped others pick out the best items, so many peddlers knew him. For example, Lin Yan first met this guy's father, a very honest old man. He even took out the receipt with the price he paid for it when he bargained with customers. Unfortunately, when Lin Yan graduated from high school, the old man fell ill and his son took over the business. and this was the leeching peddler in from of him.

Lin Yan wasn't polite with him. When he walked around the stall, he took out a copper box from under the table. Inside were piles of Ming and Qing paperweights. These objects were all family heirlooms that the original stall owner received from nearby residents’ homes when he was young. Lin Yan had just remembered this box of objects then dragged Xiao Yu over to look at them. Brass mirrors, jade bracelets, thumb rings, snuff boxes, tobacco pipes; Xiao Yu looked over them all and just shook his head. Lin Yan threw the last piece back into the box and patted the dust on his clothes, a little frustrated.

"That box has been there for ages and no one's ever touched it. What are you looking at it for?" The peddler kept squinting at him and was too curious not to ask about it.

"Looking for Ming Dynasty artifacts for my classes." Lin Yan actually didn't know what he was looking for. He moved on and put the box back.

"Ming Dynasty?" The peddler didn't care about the bracelet anymore. "Old man Liu has lots stashed away."

"No, no, no. . ." Lin Yan hurriedly refused, but he thought about it and sighed, "Forget it. I've been shopping all day and haven't gone there. I'll give it a try."

"Don't say the wrong thing. Good luck." The peddler made a face.

The shop run by old man Liu was quite famous in Shenjiayuan. Not just because he was the only antique peddler to sell only sell antique pictures, but also because he was notoriously grumpy. Every day, he'd leave the shop and hang up his old camera in the park to make money. Whenever he went to the shop to buy something, the owner was never there. Walking down the street, he ran into him wearing an old Mao suit, cursing and waving around. His thin mantis-like face was slanted and a pair of glasses rested on his nose at an angle. Sometimes the lens' were shattered like cobwebs, and sometimes the lens' weren't there at all.

His shop sells old photographs of the old city, hung densely from the floor to the ceiling. Because old photographs were difficult to reprint, they were also very expensive. The sub districts of Qianmen, Dashilan, old gardens in the setting sun in 1872, passers-by in long gowns with thin faces and numb eyes. The TV station came to interview him, but only half the program was filmed. From photographers to reporters, old man Liu chewed them all out without exception. The interview never went anywhere, and the shop still didn't have any business. The old man still walked around outside with his camera everyday.

The shop was in the northwest corner of Shenjiayuan and its location was considered unlucky. There was a symbol meant to ward off evil spirits designed by a famous Feng Shui master hung on the door. Xiao Yu couldn't enter and stood at the door waiting for Lin Yan.

Lin Yan looked at the ominous storefront. For the first time, he felt reluctant to part with Xiao Yu.

Unsurprisingly, Old Man Liu wasn't in the shop. A seven or eight-year-old girl in a red jacket was facing away from him. She was pointing at a photo on the wall and muttering something. When she heard someone enter the door, she turned back and grinned at Lin Yan.

Lin Yan was a little surprised. This little girl was his neighbor. Although he didn’t know where she lived, he often saw her running around in the yard downstairs in a dirty red dress. Sometimes when Lin Yan went out to buy dinner at night, he saw her playing with cats in the yard, no one coming to bring her home. He hadn't seen her often in the past month and he didn't expect to see her here.

Was it possible she was related to that strange old man? No wonder no one cared about her playing outside everyday, Lin Yan thought.

"Why are you here by yourself?" Lin Yan knelt down and asked her in a soft voice.

The little girl was lean, her eyes staring straight at Lin Yan, grinning silently. Lin Yan suddenly felt that the little girl’s smile probably made people feel uncomfortable. It didn’t seem right to call it a smile, but just a casual grin. The corners of her mouth were upturned but her eyes were dull. Wearing such an old jacket in summer, she seemed to be left behind by the times, like the rest of the photos in the room.

Lin Yan hesitated on whether he leave and wait outside for the strange old man.

"What the hell you XX, I XXXX. . ." Lin Yan was distracted, and suddenly there was a thud. Old man Liu hugging his broken camera fell through the front door. He fell on all fours in an extremely embarrassed posture, landing on the only part of the floor that had sunlight hitting it.

"A-Are you okay?" Lin Yan rushed over to help. Unexpectedly, the old man gave him a sour look. He rolled over and sat on the ground, patting the dirt on his knees, and continued his tirade of curses towards the door relentlessly. Lin Yan stood awkwardly off to the side, neither leaving nor staying.

The old man felt he had cursed enough. He grunted and got to his feet. When he turned his head and saw Lin Yan, his eyes widened like he had discovered a whole new world, and said with a quacking voice: "What are you doing here?"

"I came to buy something." Lin Yan didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Shouldn't that be the first thing the shop owner thinks of when he sees a customer in the store?

"Leave. What is there to buy? Young people are clueless." The old man held his stern gaze and walked around behind the counter, irritated: "Why are you still standing there? You have no business being here!"

Lin Yan didn't want to talk nonsense with the old man, so he pat his back and turned to leave.

"Hey! Wait!" The old man yelled. Lin Yan had just reached the door and was so frightened by the voice that he came to a halt.

"You look good, I'll take a picture of you." The old man suddenly walked out from behind the counter with his camera in hand. He grabbed Lin Yan by the collar and pulled him into the room. After couple of pushes, he stood beside the little girl. He squatted down involuntarily, and the shutter sounded with a few clicks. The old man's furrowed face appeared from behind the camera and he smacked his lips with satisfaction.

After the shutter, several photos appeared from the top of the camera. The old man took one in his hand and glanced at it. He pulled one out and shoved it at Lin Yan: "You take it."

Lin Yan was shown the strength of this old man. He turned his face angrily, trying to walk out, rubbing his shoulder: "I don't want to."

"Take it!" The old man yelled in Lin Yan's ear, making his ears ring.

Lin Yan took it and glanced speechlessly. He saw that in the black-and-white picture he stood like a wooden pole, staring expressionlessly at the wall. The background was dimmed, and the entire thing looked like a horror picture people would share online.

What's wrong with. . .

Lin Yan eyes widened and a nerve in his head popped. He couldn't help taking a step back, looking at himself in the photo. When he looked at the spot where he was standing when the picture was taken, it felt like a bucket of ice water was poured over his head.

The little girl who took the picture with him just now wasn't in the photo. He was the only person in the black and white background straight out of a horror movie.

Lin Yan hesitantly looked up. The girl in red was standing where he stood, wearing an out-of-date ragged jacket, grinning at him biting her fingernail.

"Hehe, hehe." The old man held up the camera to his crooked eyes and a piece of the lens fell to the ground. "Perfect, great picture."

Lin Yan crawled out of the house.

The sun was bitterly hot and the bustling street was swarming with people. Xiao Yu was standing casually by the doorway. Lin Yan couldn't say a word, swallowing hard. He rushed over and wrapped him up in a fierce hug.

[lesbianlotties]

would you have it any other way? | Andy x Quynh

The Old Guard Mini Bang 2020 | @theoldguardevents |  Art created by @elenorasweet​ can be found here

Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Andy | Andromache the Scythian/Quynh | Noriko Words:  6773 Summary: If you put together the age of all the other immortals, it still wouldn't match the number of years that Andy and Quynh have loved each other. Their love, the oldest, the strongest, and the truest thing they both have ever known in their endless lives, might be about to go through the most challenging test yet. The entire team, the entire family, is going through one of its most difficult times so far, including the appearance of a new immortal. Meanwhile, Andy and Quynh have a secret within themselves that they also have to deal with, but, at least, they're happy to be dealing with all of it together, as they were always supposed to do.

aka basically just the exact same plot of the movie, but Quynh is there the entire time because canon is too cruel and i said no thank you

Golden light filled the streets of Morocco and two women walked there as confident as if they could command the very sunlight to their will.

Andy wore black from head to toe and nobody dared stare at her long enough to notice the details. The gun on the waist of her pants, the knife on the heel of her boots, the thin thread from which an ancient pendant hung from, the backpack filled with gifts for her family, and the dark dragon printed on her t-shirt. She looked ready to kill, but so heavily charged with emotional specifics that nothing she did could possibly be taken as meaningless. In conclusion, she looked like she had plenty of reasons, several people in fact, that she was more than ready to kill for. One of them, and pretty obviously judging by the way her otherwise stone-cold face lighted up with a smile every time their hands so much as brushed, was the woman right beside her.

The lightness of Quynh’s outfit, much more fashionable than Andy’s, didn’t exactly make her look any more approachable. She wore a fresh white shirt and stylish, cream-colored pants, but she knew how to hide a dagger in any kind of attire, and if her purse carried nothing but a gun, that was still a deliberate fashion choice. Both women wore dark sunglasses but, where Andy’s frown warned people she wouldn’t hesitate to begin or end any kind of trouble by whatever means necessary, Quynh’s little smile was more of a promise there would be trouble following her.

Still, when the annoying sounds of a bike got impossibly close and a man finally caught up with the women, stopping his bike right ahead of them, Andy and Quynh grinned with genuine affection.

“Booker,” they greeted him in unison.

“Ladies,” the frenchman playfully bowed his head, parked his bike, and then with easy familiarity wrapped his arms around both women, “You guys good? Did you travel?”

Andy fondly patted him in the back and when they all pulled back from the hug she answered, “We did. And I brought you something.” 

While Booker admired his first edition copy of “A Hundred Years of Solitude,” Quynh chuckled and led them forward.

“Don’t be fooled, Sebastien, I got the gift for you, Andromache only carried it on her cute little bag,” Quynh looked back once, smirking at Andy, and reached out to brush her fingers to the other woman’s wrist, teasing.

--

When the doors of the hotel room opened, for an instant, time stopped. Time crashed, time got all tangled up on itself, turned over on its own head. Time was meaningless. Because, how many times had this exact scene played itself in the past thousand years? Andy embraced Nicky with all solemnity and all-encompassing care they felt for one another and the people around them. Quynh pretty much jumped into Joe’s arms, almost, but never completely, catching him off guard. He spun her around once and when he put her down she kissed his cheek with all the unmeasurable love that to this day still made him happily blush. The hugs continued, of course. Joe lifted Andy up in a bear hug that got a laugh from her unlike any other in the world. Then Quynh hugged Nicky, allowing herself a second of safety and warmth surrounded by his arms before playfully doing her best to lift him up. He laughed like only the people in that room had ever heard him.

Greetings, jokes, and gifts exchanged, Quynh let herself fall on one of the couches beside Andy. She had a feeling this moment of bliss wouldn’t last too long and that was the only reason she didn’t allow herself to truly get comfortable at least resting her legs on top of Andy’s. But, she was content for the time being, watching the love of her life get absolutely, almost inappropriately lost in a sweet piece of baklava.

It’s been centuries and this never gets old, Quynh thought, shaking her head fondly as she broke her own gifted baklava in imperfect halves. As always, she ate the smaller half. As always, she saved the rest of Andy.

All too soon the conversation shifted to the reason behind their reunion. It’s a job, we can do some good, this is what we do, we’re not helping, they said. Andy sighed and stood up, walked to the window, and addressed Quynh. “What do you think?” Andy asked her, even though she probably knew, even though it was always the same.

Quynh, who, at that point had twisted herself on the couch into a more comfortable, most probably improper position, thought about it for a second. All around her, her family had felt compelled at one point or another to aid humanity for all possible reasons. Duty, sheer goodness of the heart, guilt, nothing better to do. Personally, she was a restless person. She couldn’t stand being still in a place for long, let alone be useless for longer than to catch her breath and have some fun, her mind wouldn’t let her, her heart wouldn’t allow it. But she didn’t let the struggles of the world plague her every thought, not like Andy did.

“Let’s hear him out,” she said finally, unsurprisingly. If they had had to vote at the moment she wouldn’t have said yes. She would have agreed with Andy, it was too risky, and probably useless. But, every time, as soon as she heard the details of whatever horror humanity was currently inflicting on itself, she’d be the first one out of her seat, ready to right all the wrongs of the world.

Carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders for thousands of years, Andy got used to the feeling. But that didn’t mean it ever stopped being so fucking heavy. It got heavier each passing day and, just lately, Quynh was finding it increasingly difficult to soothe that burden on her lover’s back, to get her to share a little of the strain. She could see, like she didn’t ever remember seeing, Andy truly struggling with the weight of it all or, more specifically, with the conviction it was any worth it to keep holding on. Handling her part of the weight, plus her determination to help the love of her life, it was its own kind of burden on Quynh’s shoulders, but she wasn’t focusing on her own pain, physical, psychological, or of any kind, she didn’t want to.

Almost without Andy noticing, Quynh walked up behind her. The shorter woman wrapped her arms around Andy and kissed her shoulder. They stared out the window for a moment longer before Quynh stated, “This one’s special,” she murmured, fearless as always to put into words what the other woman felt to her core, “I am going with you.”

Usually, Andy would meet with their contacts alone or with Booker, they made a good team. And it was always useful to have a plan B, to make it seem like they had a trick under their sleeves, like they were more in numbers than anyone would ever know, to hold back laughter when poor devils that thought they could play smart with them had to face a meeting with Quynh and Nicky. So, that day, Andy, Quynh, and Booker, met with James Copley.

They accepted the job.

--

Even if Andy didn’t secretly hold the belief that her own heart continued to beat after countless deaths partially out of sheer desire to beat along with Quynh’s heart. Even if she wasn’t forever, eternally in love with the other woman. Even still, Andy would have been thankful to have her on her team, to travel with her, to fight alongside Quynh.

Nobody would question Quynh’s professionalism. She hadn’t selfishly or accidentally endangered her team or their missions too many times more than any of the others had throughout the centuries. She just had the strange little talent of knowing exactly when and where and how much she could push the boundaries of their professionalism in order to make the most out of their time on Earth.

In helicopters, she playfully disregarded security measures. In deserts, she walked with a spring on her step. Wearing a picture-perfect ponytail, dark sunglasses, and all-black clothes that somehow she had forced to fit into a greater fashion sense than any mercenary had ever been known for, she did every little thing only she could get away with. Starting with genuinely trying to distract Nicky when he was about to shoot two guards at once, as she had dared him to do, but just because she trusted him, because she’d taught him that move herself. Then, being the only one quick enough to shoot just once before the five of them died on that kill floor. Lastly, winking at Andy as they came back to life, with holes on their clothes and wounds still healing and just seconds away from tearing down a small army of men.

Quynh was a synonym for life, Andy thought, she is life, I am alive because she is life, and I will live as long as she is with me. Quynh lived her endless life in bold, bright strokes of a brush. And things, the best and worst of them would have probably been so much easier, simpler, if Quynh had been just that, excitement, energy, a mischievous smile. But of course, she was so much more

Quynh was gentleness in places that knew only hostility. She was capable of conjuring patience and calm in the blink of an eye. She was endless conversations and fantastic stories. She carried little kids when they saved them, she found ways to make women feel safe and men believe in peace. She washed Andy’s hair with all the care in the world, and she made sure none of the boys had any blood left in their beards after a battle. She held Andy’s hands because she could tell Andy needed her, but she held so tightly because she needed Andy. At times she was quiet. She was thoughtful. With really big events she took her time to process them instead of any relatively usual impulsiveness. A trait of hers that pained Andy because she knew, the longer Quynh thought about something, the longer she was hurting.

Quynh believed in revenge. She always had. Her heart could fit millions of good, selfless, benevolent feelings, but she still believed in revenge. If the stars aligned for her, she’d kill James Copley herself. But it was never so easy, was it? They had made mistakes too, that day. Could she get revenge on herself? Self-recrimination was one excruciating characteristic she shared with the love of her life. There was no use in pondering about it, if it was a coincidence or if they had picked it up after the other one. At least, one thing more powerful than that was the fierceness with which they’d protect the ones they loved, resulting in them perfectly protecting each other, even from themselves.

--

They were on a train somewhere away from their latest mistake. Booker had started to snore and Joe and Nicky had been perfectly still in each other’s arms for a while now. Andy’s thoughts were too loud to let her sleep, and Quynh’s thoughts too dangerous to keep herself awake for them. She was laying down, with her head comfortably resting on Andy’s lap, even if the rest of her body was unusually uncomfortable in the rough surface where they lay.

“Sleep,” Andy would tell her every few minutes, mindlessly slipping into the old habit of a dead language that only they could remember.

“I can’t, not without you. Sleep with me, my heart. Sleep,” Quynh replied, again and again, the ancient words coming out almost easier than modern English ever did.

“Sleep,” Andy insisted, soothingly running her fingers through her lover’s hair, even after Quynh fell asleep, just until she slept too.

It didn’t last long though… there was Nile.

“She’s beautiful,” Quynh said, somewhat sadly, a minute later as they all discussed what they saw of the new immortal in their dreams, “and smarter and braver than she knows what to do with.” 

She exchanged a look with Andy, silent understanding of what it all meant. It wasn’t the most convenient of moments, but it had never been convenient at all, right? Together they had welcomed four other immortals, and it never got easier. Not when Lykon died. Not when having to explain to Joe and Nicky why they’d never win the war one of them had started. Not when watching Booker lose himself when he lost his family. And it certainly wouldn’t be easy to explain to the new kid how an endless life would mean the ending of the life she already had.

But Nile Freeman was beautiful, smart, and brave. Quynh could tell. Just as she once said Lykon was a hero unlike anybody else, and Joe and Nicky were naturally kind, and Booker was, well, he had been mostly just tired. Her favorite judgment, however, remained that one of a day thousands of years ago when she woke up from a dream, firmly convinced that she had just dreamt of the love of her life.

--

“Good. You’re awake,” Quynh smiled down at Nile.

While Andy was driving the car, Quynh had insisted on sitting in the back to keep company to the new kid. Nevermind the young woman was unconscious after Quynh had allowed Andy to go pick her up by herself.

“Who- What’s going on?” Nile mumbled. Her head hurt and she could barely make sense of the scene around her beyond being in a strange vehicle with an unknown woman gently smiling at her.

“I know you probably have a lot of questions- Ugh, fuck!” Quynh’s explanation was cut short when Nile’s knife pierced through her chest.

An instant later, the young woman had kicked open the trunk of the car and fallen off it.

“What the fuck?! Quynh are you okay?” Andy slammed the brakes of the car and quickly got out. She had been trying to be nonchalant about this whole thing, but a line had been crossed. “Did you just stab my wife?!” she yelled at the retreating figure of Nile, and pulled out her gun.

“Andromache, don’t!” Quynh reached her just in time to make it so that Andy shot only at the ground near Nile. The surprise made her stumble and fall, but it could’ve been worse.

“She stabbed you!” Andy protested, frowning and the blood that was tragically staining Quynh’s otherwise perfectly white t-shirt.

“And we kidnapped her,” Quynh gave her wife a pointed look and with a hand on her arm prompted her to walk forward to properly introduce themselves to the newcomer.

“Who are you?” Nile asked when they were close enough to talk. She was still on the ground, breathing heavily and trying to think of a way to get out of this situation. In front of her were standing two women, one with short brown hair, a black tank top, and a look in her eyes incredibly threatening. Beside her was another woman of long black hair, wearing a now blood-stained white t-shirt with rolled sleeves and looking a little too put together for the desert they were in, she was smiling, but she somehow didn’t seem much more friendly than the other one.

Before replying, Andy shared a look with Quynh, as if finding all necessary answers there. “Don’t worry,” she said at last, “You’re safe, you’re not in any danger. We are… we are people like you. I know you just figured out you can’t die, we can’t either. I know it might not look like it at the moment, but we are saving you from much worse situations. We don’t have all the answers, kid. But you don’t have to figure it out alone, okay?” There was a pause then where Andy and Quynh exchanged another look. It might have been reassuring or encouraging, teasing, or amused. It could have been an entire silent conversation in the span of a second. But the point was that Andy looked at Nile once more and with more relaxed features added, “Now, could you please get back in the car?”

Andy offered Nile her hand, and helped the young woman stand back up. When Andy started walking away, Quynh turned to look at Nile. “Her name is Andromache, you should probably call her Andy. And my name’s Quynh,” She offered her hand to Nile, smiled when she heard her name, and then immediately tightened her hold until it almost hurt. “If you stab me again, you’re going to regret it,” she winked, and she was smiling, and Nile was fascinated by the perfect balance of menacing and welcoming in that gesture. “Welcome to the team!” Quynh added in a sing-song, turning around and following Andy back to the car.

--

Throughout history, Quynh had to sleep in the strangest of places. It was just a part of their lives, warriors couldn’t be picky about a place to rest their heads for a few hours. Besides, with one of Andy’s arms draped over her waist, Quynh felt safe enough to fall asleep even in the sketchy plane of an even sketchier… businessman, of sorts. However, her sleep was interrupted after a while when, in a matter of seconds, she made a move to turn around, found herself restrained, her struggle woke up Andy, they realized they had their wrists chained to the seats of the plane, and the new kid was pointing a gun at the pilot of the plane.

“Oh, this will be fun,” Quynh mumbled through a yawn, getting comfortable in her place.

She smiled when the pilot played dead as instructed by Andy. “Yeah, I do not recommend it,” she said when Nile swore she wouldn’t jump off a plane. “Not me?” she playfully pouted when Nile freed Any first. And she grinned expectantly as she watched the two other women engage in a fight that she knew was necessary and more meaningful than any outsider would have guessed. She teased Andy, cheered Nile on, and threw her head back laughing when the young woman got two hits at Andy’s face.

After the fight was over, Andy took the keys from Nile and got Quynh out of her restraints. The newest immortal was still standing, looking a little lost and teary-eyed in the middle of the plane, when Quynh stood up and faced her. “My turn?” she playfully asked, and felt her heart swell with affection at the sight of the confusion and hint of irritation in the young woman’s face. “I’m kidding,” Quynh said softly and smiled genuinely this time. Then she opened her arms, a silent offer that she wouldn’t push and wouldn’t be offended if rejected but-

Nile stepped forward and lightly wrapped her arms around Quynh’s shoulders, accepting the hug. It was strange, it was completely unfamiliar, but so much had happened in the past day or so. She had died, for fucks sake, she deserved a hug. “I’m sorry for stabbing you,” Nile grumbled.

In response, Quynh chuckled, “It probably won’t be the last time. And you can thank me for the clothes, Andromache alone would have kept you in your bloody uniform.”

--

“You two are the oldest,” Nile stared seriously at the two women at the other side of the table.

Andy and Quynh exchanged a look. “Andromache is a little bit older,” Quynh said with a smile.

“How old?” Nile asked.

“It’s not our first millennium I can tell you that,” Quynh took a sip of wine and leaned back on her chair.

“How old?” Nile insisted.

“Too old,” Andy said with finality.

--

The night wasn’t quiet, it never was in that place though. They were all accustomed to the sounds of the planes, and Nile had been exhausted enough to fall asleep despite the noise. Still, Quynh was so in tune with her lover’s mind, that she felt Andy’s thoughts to be even louder than the planes above their heads. When everyone else had gone to sleep, she had stayed in one of the armchairs, talking with Andy about everything, and nothing, and their upcoming mission. At least, they had been talking about that, until Andy’s worries got the best of her and she was rendered silent, staring at her own hand as if it was the first time she saw it.

From her place curled up in the other chair, Quynh stared at her. She wouldn’t be surprised if she had figured it out before Andy herself. She could say with certainty she knew Andy’s body better than she knew her own. Their way of living had made it so that at times they went years without facing an actual mirror. In all her years Quynh had stared at Andy way more than at herself. Had loved her intensely, tenderly, carefully, hurriedly, in every way they had possibly thought of. She had held her in her arms as she died and came back to life more times than she could count. There was no language, in all languages humanity had ever come up with, for Quynh describe the intimate connection she shared with Andy. It would have been a deadly offense to her for anyone to think that she hadn’t noticed a change, in Andy’s eyes, in her hands, in her skin, in the very way she was breathing.

Andy had been lost in her thoughts until she noticed Quynh perching herself on the arm of the chair she was in.

“I’m sorry, my love, what were you saying?” Andy looked up at her, just realizing she had stopped listening and talking a while ago.

Quynh sighed and met Andy’s eyes, kicking through any and all walls the other woman could attempt to put up to hide her real thoughts. Andy’s eyes widened a little when she realized Quynh was already caught up with her train of thought, but she didn’t have anything to say, not yet.

“I was saying…” Quynh started to say, picking up Andy’s hand to kiss her knuckles and then hold on tightly, “That you look beautiful tonight, my heart,” She felt a knot on her throat and it only worsened when Andy smiled at her. It was a unique smile, amused, genuine, she was thankful, she wasn’t afraid, but there was an apology in there somewhere. “As beautiful as the first day I saw you,” Quynh added with all the conviction she could muster without breaking down.

Both women were still silent, staring at their intertwined hands when Nile woke up from a nightmare, gasping for air.

--

“His name was Lykon,” Andy said, trying to explain to Nile why she’d just had a nightmare of a warrior dying from a wound on his stomach. “He was the third immortal. Only Quynh and I got to know him. He died before the rest of you were born, way before.”

“He was dying,” Nile whispered, “He was… he was bleeding so much, and there was no way to stop it. He was calm, he felt… ready but, it hurt. It hurt too much, and I don’t think he wanted to die.”

Andy didn’t need to turn around to know that, behind her, Quynh was standing by the dining table, holding to its edge until her knuckles were white, and her eyes were burning a hole on the ground. Lykon’s death would never stop hurting them, not really. He was Quynh’s best friend in a way that nobody could ever match again. He was far from the first soldier Andy lost, but definitely the one loss that hurt her the most. Plus, only with his death, and after thousands of years of life, the two women had to face the reality that they weren’t completely immortal, and losing each other would forever be a possibility.

“He was the best warrior, and man, I’ve ever met,” Andy stated, her voice steady, unwavering, honoring him, even thousands of years later, “He was all full of courage, light, skill and… smiles.” She made a quick pause, allowing herself to remember one of the most painful days of her entire existence on this Earth. “We were fighting a small battle, nothing we hadn’t done a hundred times before. Everything was going according to plan, seamlessly. We got hurt, we stood back up. Until… he didn’t. He got hurt, and his wounds didn’t heal. Just like that. His time had come. Nothing we can do about it.”

Nile closed her eyes for a second. She still had an arm holding on to her own abdomen. “Why am I dreaming of him?” she asked, opening her eyes to glare at Andy.

“The dreams stop when we meet. Then they restart, when one of us dies. Those dreams, memories of them, they aren’t constant, but they don’t stop,” Andy explained, taking a quick look at the rest of her team, the three men that had dreamed of Lykon their entire lives without ever meeting him. “They won’t always be of his death, I promise,” Andy tried to explain, but a second later Nile was standing up and hurrying out the door.

After another meaningful look to the other half of her family, Andy grabbed a gun out of habit, and followed the young woman outside.

“I’m going with you,” Quynh said, as Andy passed beside her, “I need some air.” And the group was split in half, for longer than any of them could have expected. 

--

“Wait for my signal,” Andy said to Nile before turning around, accepting the sword Quynh was holding out for her. Then the two of them confidently moved toward the abandoned church, to wait for a group of soldiers that during their last seconds of life would deeply regret ever taking that job.

“I could have done this by myself, you know?” Andy smiled at Quynh from their hiding place among the shadows.

“You could, doesn’t mean you have to,” Quynh replied, making an effort to not even hint at the fact that for the first time ever Andy’s mortality wasn’t as certain as it had always been. Instead, Quynh put on the playful smile that she knew Andy needed to see in her. “My heart, it’s been an eternity already, please accept that for as long as I’m here, you’ll never have to do anything alone.”

Quynh kissed Andy’s cheek and a second later she urged her lover to get out and dive, almost literally, into the fight waiting for them. Quynh let her go first, Andy always went first, and usually, Quynh didn’t complain. She loved looking at her wife conquer a battle fearlessly, almost effortlessly, it was a sight worth all the treasures in the world. But then, of course, as soon as one of the men showed even the remote intention of pulling a knife from behind Andy, Quynh was already there, making sure he didn’t live enough to even picture Andy hurt because of him. 

It went on and on, almost too easily. Andy and Quynh fighting side by side, picking up guns and swinging their swords and not letting their enemies even a chance to think about the goddesses of war that had stepped in their paths. It was over as quickly as it started. The whole place catching fire, Joe and Nicky already too far away, Nile and Booker in the backseat of the car.

Quynh had been there to guard Andy’s back, and keep her from any serious injury, and maybe she was the only one looking for confirmation of her greatest fears, but the fact remained that she could hardly tear her eyes away from Andy’s bruised knuckles holding the steering wheel. Insignificant little bruises, but they were there, not healing as they should. 

--

Quynh had to take a step back when Nile explained to Andy why she couldn’t go along with them. That experience was hurting Quynh more than anyone realized. She felt physical pain in a way she couldn’t explain. She had accepted Nile as a member of their family, she already felt protective, and charmed by the young woman. It hurt to watch her go, it hurt to watch her pick a different side when they needed her.

Andy seemed to understand though, of course she did. Andy had been a leader for pretty much as long as she had been alive, which was… a lot. Andy could make sense of why everybody did what they did, in and out of battle it seemed, and she always explained it to Quynh in a way that was too forgiving of the others. It hurt Quynh to watch Andy understand what was the right thing to do, it hurt because there was no one and there would never be anyone like Andy. It hurt Quynh because she could never do what Andy does, be like Andy, and she didn’t ever want to take over that role, didn’t even want to picture it, and now she might have to.

So, it was only Andy, Quynh, and Booker stepping into Copley’s office. It felt wrong, Quynh couldn’t explain why but it did. What kind of man is so calm when three immortal warriors are pointing at him with guns?

Well, the explanation lies with the third immortal, Booker, who wasn’t aiming at Copley at all. He was shaking, making the most difficult decision of his life, even if it was just a small part of the worst decision that he had already taken a while ago. He was thinking about how long they take to heal. He was thinking about who would react the quickest, and who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him in the head for shooting her wife. So, he shot Quynh in the heart, killing her instantly, and buying himself enough time to shoot Andy near the stomach. Andy had enough time to shoot him in the leg, but her gun fell off her grip, and she fell to her knees.

By the time Quynh came back to her senses, there were tears streaming down Andy’s face, and there was a wound on her stomach that wouldn’t stop bleeding. Quynh gritted her teeth and accepted the pain, forced herself to accept Andy’s mortality, Booker’s betrayal, her own rage, and her even greater heartache. She wanted to reach out to Andy, she wanted to kill Booker a thousand times over this, she wanted to just lie there and hope for it all to be a nightmare. She didn’t have a chance to do any of that before she was restrained by a group of strange men taking her and her broken family away.

--

“Fuck! Let me go,” Quynh groaned as she was being securely tied down to one of the beds in Merrick’s lab. She was the only one fighting it. “Let me kill him just once and I’ll gladly settle down after. Fucking-”

Andy was staring at her while the doctor sedated Quynh for the third time already. If she had had the strength, maybe Andy would have smiled. It was the natural reaction, to smile when she watched Quynh fight, smile when Quynh was bold, when she was playful, when she loved Andy in every way possible, and beyond. It didn’t feel right then, to look at the love of her life and feel only the need to start crying. From her point of view, this was the end for Andy. The weight of the world had finally become too much for her to bear. The world had finally crumbled down around her, taking her family down with it, turning Booker against her, rendering Joe and Nicky helpless, and Quynh… Quynh would lose her any moment now. Was this where all their promises would break?

--

Their time in Merrick’s lab was anything but boring. Quynh had been angry enough, had been quick enough, to knock out one of the doctors and free one of her hands on one occasion. That was as far as she got. She was sedated two times more. Each time she woke up was more frightening for her than the last. Andy’s name was the first thing coming out of her lips, and the first thing she heard was her lover’s reassuring “I’m here. Still here, Quynh, still here.” But it could only be so reassuring when “here” was one of the worst places they had ever been.

Two memories had made its way to the forefront of Quynh’s mind. One, the first time Andy and her died after Lykon’s definitive death. She had never felt as scared as she was during the seconds it took Andy to come back, and she had never been as desperate to come back to life, back to Andy, as she did that time. The second memory, the witches’ trials, the iron coffin, the feeling of being trapped, entirely hopeless. Andy had escaped just in time to follow in a different ship, but she couldn’t stop them from throwing Quynh to the ocean. She jumped right after her, but it still took hours to free Quynh from her prison. Some nights she still had nightmares where they didn’t manage it at all. This couldn’t be it. Not again. Quynh knew she had to fight with everything she had but, what if it wasn’t enough?

Andy wasn’t putting up a fight. Her hopelessness pained Quynh more than she could put into words, but it also inspired her to fight harder, to get all of them out of there. But it was difficult. It couldn’t be impossible, but it was difficult. She couldn’t even hear herself think. There was Joe fighting Booker, and Quynh related to that anger, but she had new priorities. There was Nicky trying to calm Joe down, and Quynh understood his silent rage, but she didn’t have time to listen to all their words. Least of all, she couldn’t stand the noise of Booker trying to defend himself. Loudest of all, however, was Andy’s silence, and Quynh’s own heart, breaking in her chest.

--

Nile’s arrival had been the closest thing to a miracle the four immortals had seen in their long, long lives. Quynh grinned as soon as she saw her, because it wasn’t a miracle, it was the most, if not only reasonable thing she’d seen in days. She had known, maybe since the moment that Nile had stabbed her, that the young woman had the potential to be everything the world needed, and more. At least, at the moment, she was everything the group needed, and that much was clear. Nile was hope, and just the sight of her was enough to send the five warriors up to their feet and ready to fight. 

Andy convinced Booker to stand up, and convinced Joe to postpone the arguing. However, nobody, except for Booker, flinched at all at the moment Quynh confidently and calmly walked up to him just to punch him in the face strong enough for him to require a few seconds to recover. It was enough, for the moment. They had bigger problems waiting for them on the other side of the doors.

The fight was equal parts exciting and terrifying. It wasn’t the most difficult thing they’d done, but it was the first time they did it while one of them was mortal. It wasn’t easy, trusting their backs to Booker during the fight, but it came naturally enough. It was their priority, but it was undeniably difficult, to think of protecting Andy. Andy, who always moved first, Andy who regularly died for them, Andy who barely adjusted her fighting to be a little more defensive than usual, but not enough. Quynh and Nile found a common ground there, fighting anything and everyone, including Andy herself, to make sure the newly-mortal woman remained safe enough. If Andy slipped away from them at one moment, well, that much was inevitable.

--

There was one moment, right before the worst of the fight.

“Are you going to let her do this?!” Nile asked Quynh, talking about Andy refusing to wear any protection and insisting on entering the fight first.

Quynh was resting her back against the wall, eyes closed and breathing heavily. She had never felt this exhausted for as long as she could remember. Her body was screaming, her mind was beyond overwhelmed, and her heart couldn’t exactly handle the emotional stakes of the situation. There would be pain in seeing Andy risk her life, the only life she had. There would be pain in seeing Andy be careful, in seeing the love of her life, who Quynh had associated with invincibility for all of her life, act anything but unbreakable. Quynh could ask, she could very seriously ask and she could probably get Andy to take a step back for once in her life.

“I can’t stop her,” Quynh replied finally. But not in the way Nile thought right then. She couldn’t stop her, because Quynh knew and understood her wife and so she knew that to ask this of Andy at that moment, it would be an offense she wouldn’t be able to take back. Andy needed this moment, even if it was the last one, especially if it was the last one. They would walk into this battle as they always had and if it was up to them, they would also walk away from it as they always had.

--

Finally, it was all over. The boys were chasing the elevator down to catch Merrick, Andy and Nile were standing by the window, talking. Quynh was just rounding a corner, walking toward them with a smile, when something hit her in the head hard enough to knock her down to the ground. 

Quynh fought with everything she had to stay conscious. She opened her eyes, and Merrick was pointing his gun at Andy. She closed her eyes and heard gunshots. She opened her eyes, and only Andy was standing there, looking proud as ever.

“Is it over?” Quynh asked Andy with a smile while the taller woman offered her a hand to get her up to her feet.

“Which part?” Andy laughed.

They were both a little unsteady on their feet but, holding on to each other, they walked over to the elevator and started their descent. It was the first quiet moment they had to themselves in days. They could finally breathe, they could finally take a good look at each other and let the reality of their situation settle in around them.

“How do you feel?” Quynh asked.

“How do you feel?” Andy turned the question around on her. She smiled when she noticed the confusion on Quynh’s face. “You’re bleeding, my love,” she explained, her voice breaking just slightly. Andy moved a hand to Quynh’s face and one of her fingers just lightly grazed the small wound where Merrick had hit her with the handle of Andy’s labrys. Quynh hissed in pain. She had felt it for a short while already, and the confirmation wasn’t as startling as it should have been. She wasn’t healing either. “But you were out there, risking yourself for me,” it was just a statement on Andy’s part, not really a question, but not completely a reprimand either.

“Well, obviously,” Quynh replied, smiling as genuinely as ever, smiling in that particular way that Andy loved more than ever, brighter than any star, more meaningful than any combination of words could dream of being.

“We will figure this out together,” Andy said, taking Quynh’s bruised hand and interlocking their blood-stained fingers with all the tenderness they had accumulated through three thousand years of love for each other and the world around them. “Just you and me,” she promised.

Quynh looked at her, her best friend, the love of her life, the person she admired the most, the person she’d die a thousand times and come back for, her favorite endless source of happiness and passion, purpose and strength. They had first made this promise back when they didn’t know an “end” was even possible for them. This time would be the most difficult occasion when Quynh would have to say the words, but also the most important. “Until the end,” she swore, meaning the words more than ever before.

The doors of the elevator opened, and Andy and Quynh walked out, hand in hand, facing the beginning of their end bravely, happily, ready, as long as they were together.

[five-miles-over]

New Girl (High School!Commodus x Reader)

Summary: You are a new student at Institutum Romanus Educational (which is supposed to be Latin for “Roman Educational Institute”) and come across some fascinating characters (I mean classmates). Sort of based off a ‘Gladiator’ AU listicle. Hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: A cheesy meet-cute scene

Word Count: 1,663

When you’d came to Rome to visit your father during your winter holiday, you had only hoped it would be a temporary break from your mundane life back in your hometown. Perhaps you’d get a chance to see the quaint streets covered in frost, or visit the Tiber River. And like most children, you would get a present - maybe new clothes, or a gadget. A brochure for a new school was certainly not what you were expecting as a gift.

Yet here you were, on your first day of the new semester in January, walking to your first period. All you were hoping for was nothing but a peaceful end to your 10th year. You were now to be a student at the Institutum Romanus Educational, or IRE as many playfully called it. It was perplexing to you why a school would insist upon retaining its Latin name, but your parents said it was reinstated by its current principal Marcus Aurelius. He was supposedly an admirer of the Classics and wanted his children to have a good understanding of ancient languages.

The first period of the day was Physics, which you never had a huge affinity towards, but were certainly not averse to. The teacher was kind, and he seemed to be quite enthusiastic about the content he was talking about. After being armed with two problem sets about electromagnetism, you had to walk across the entire building to your next class - English.

Throughout the hall, many of the sights weren’t very different from your old school - there were cliques of people talking to each other, and a few couples making out in front of the lockers. Campaign posters of a girl named Lucilla Aurelius were plastered across the wall. You were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her on your way to class and by gods, the posters did not do her justice. She was gorgeous.

Flanked by two “minions” or girls wearing blouses and skirts similar to the pink-and-white combination she was wearing, she held a box of buttons that said, “Vote for Lucilla, Vote for Rome” on them. With a charismatic grin, she was passing them out to various people and telling them to vote for her for their Student Body President.

Another voice rose from the cacophony in the hallways. “I wouldn’t even know if a rat had chewed off the ends of her thin strands, that’s how ugly that girl’s haircut is.” A bald boy wearing an Assassin’s Creed shirt loomed over a girl with a pixie cut, who was crying.

He was answered by a larger boy, a seemingly more bulky one. “Quinn, I don’t think that’s how to get over being dumped. Just leave her alone.”

“Hagen, you piece of meat.” Quinn grumbled, leaving the tiny girl to pick up her books from the floor. Hagen gave her the rest of her things and sent her off to class.

When you entered your English class, you heaved a sigh of relief that you were on time. The board saying ‘Hamlet’ assured you that you had reached the correct classroom. The seats were almost all filled except for one placed in front of a green-eyed boy with cropped dark hair.

He was probably the perfect mix of gothic and preppy - his bangs were long enough to fall over his brow, and he wore a barely noticeable layer of eyeliner. His crisp, black button-down, paired with his skinny jeans and black designer boots, served as a stark contrast to the sweat pants and hoodies many of the other male students wore.

You waved politely only to find him idly writing something in a journal. It looked like something in elaborate cursive, and you would’ve looked further if the teacher didn’t begin taking attendance. And if it doing so wouldn’t make you look completely creepy.

Within moments, the teacher began lecturing about one of Shakespeare’s most famous tragedies, calling upon various students to read scenes out loud for the rest of the class. A few kids named Gregory and Falcon read for the parts of Polonius, the chamberlain of Denmark, and Laertes, the son of Polonius.

You were nearly caught by surprise when the teacher invited you to read Ophelia’s lines in front of the class from Act 1, Scene 3 of the play. It wasn’t exactly on your agenda to attract much attention on your first day, but you decided to accept anyways. Standing in front of the class, you read Ophelia’s lines loud and clear while your green-eyed mystery, named Commodus, read Hamlet’s lines with passion. He seemed like he was born for this role.

“Thank you, both of you.” Your teacher applauded both of you after the scene was completed. When you returned to your seat, you saw a hand reach towards you from behind, holding a yellow sticky note. Quickly taking it, you tucked it under your knee before you could get caught.

“Commie’s passing notes in class again,” Gregory taunted, leading the entire class to laugh with him as the boy sitting behind you fumed with embarrassment. “Infatuated with the girl reading Ophelia, he seems to forget when the stage ends and when real life begins.”

The teacher’s eyebrows furrowed at Gregory’s remark. “Y/N, is this true? Did Commodus give you a note?”

“No, not at all,” you lied for him. “He didn’t give me a note at all, I just dropped my sticky notes and he gave them back to me.” Ignoring Gregory’s eye-rolling, the teacher reluctantly accepted your alibi and continued to lecture until the bell rung.

“Nice reading voice.” A boy in a burnt orange jacket offered you a kind smile as you both left the classroom. “You, uh, the new girl?”

“I am, thanks,” you nodded. “And you are?”

“The new boy,” he joked. “Sort of - I came here a few months ago from Australia. Actually Spain’s my homeland - I was born there.”

“So you’re a Spaniard?”

“No, I’m Max, but Spaniard works,” he winked, eliciting a laugh from you. “Want me to walk you to your next class?”

“If it’s not too much trouble for you,” you answered. “You wouldn’t by chance happen to know where World History is?

Max grinned. “That’s just where I’m headed. You looked confused when you entered - thought you could use a friendly face on your first day.”

“Thank you for making me feel a bit more welcome, Max.” You replied, letting him lead you through the crowd of students. Unbeknownst to the both of you, a pair of jealous peridot eyes followed the two of you until you turned the corner and disappeared.

Later that day, when lunchtime came around, your eyes widened at the color and variety of the flavorful dishes being served. It was almost like they were being prepared by gourmet chefs. You couldn’t help but smile at how pretty your tray looked; penne with a creamy tomato sauce, arugula salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, a piece of bread, and freshly cut fruit.

Deciding against the crowded cafeteria, you decided to take a chance to explore some of the other hallways in your new school. You wondered just how big your new school could possibly be. Did they have an indoor pool, a large gymnasium, a library,…or an auditorium? Holding your tray close to your chest, you walked into the large theater. In the center of the breathtakingly colossal stage, you found Commodus sitting cross-legged next to his shoulder bag and a thermos.

“Hello,” you quietly greeted him, approaching the edge of the stage and climbing up.

“Shouldn’t you be eating in the cafeteria?”, he asked, slightly perplexed, looking up from the book he was reading.”No,” you replied, placing your backpack down. “It wasn’t really my scene at my old school. I used to eat in the library or the music room.”

Commodus hummed in acknowledgment, returning to his copy of Dracula and his thermos of black coffee. “Where’s your lunch?” You asked, sitting next to him.

“I don’t usually eat any. I’m too busy.”

You pushed your tray towards him. “Would you like to share some of mine?”

“Yes, thank you.” He ripped off a piece of the bread and dipped it into the pasta sauce before chewing it. Commodus allowed himself a few more bites partially because he didn’t want to seem rude and…you seemed likable.

A few moments of silence took place while the two of you ate before you glanced at the clock. “Well…it’s time for me to go to my next class,” you commented.

“Oh…” His eyes looked slightly downcast when you told him you had to leave. “You look lovely!” You froze at his sudden compliment. “That…that was what I hoped to tell you in that note I gave you. That you look exquisite - your hair, your lips, your eyes- it reminded me of Lady Ophelia when you read her lines. You’re…you look more beguiling than she would be.”

“That’s quite sweet of you, Commodus.” You said with a small smile, flabbergasted. “Thank you, I…I’m quite flattered.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t like it. Most people don’t understand my references or my vocabulary.” Commodus stammered, relieved that you didn’t find him disturbing for comparing you to a Shakespearean heroine. “Thank you for sharing your lunch and your time with me, Y/N.”  

“Of course,” you extended your hand, expecting to shake his. “It was nice meeting you, Commodus.”

Accepting your gesture, he clasped your hand and softly kissed your knuckles, causing you to blush. Usually, princes from fairytales would do something so chivalrous. “It was nice meeting you too,” Commodus replied.

“I’ll see you later, then.” You carried your tray and backpack and began leaving the auditorium. Commodus watched you leave, hoping that perhaps you wouldn’t be like many of the other new kids, pretending to be nice before getting swept away by the popular students. That perhaps you would be…just as special as he already thought you were.

[blankdblank]

Hobbit Soulmate Pt 28

“Hey Richy Rich,” you said with your phone on the bed on speaker as you stood one legged hunched over removing your shoes.

In a chuckle he asked, “Juggling with your shoes again,”

“This zipper, hates me.” Even Lee chuckled while easing his tie looser and you asked, “How is England? Perfectly misty?”

“Yes, you are missing the morning moors, my Love. So, tell me how the film went. And I will be expecting reactions from Lee as well.” Stirring a smirk onto his face being included.

All through the film was shared as you changed into sweats and a sweater with thick fuzzy socks added while Lee had sweats and a t shirt ending up sitting beside you flipping through the muted tv channels for something to fall asleep to. “So what are the plans after this?”

“Well I was heading back to the apartment for some more lounging time but Lee keeps trying to goad me to Canada to try out for a spot on his show starting in January.”

Richard, “Ooh, where does that film?”

Lee smirked answering, “By Niagara Falls.”

Richard, “My film is shooting near there, and a bit farther north, but you should give it a go we could get a place by his. Scope it out.”

Rolling your eyes to Lee’s beaming grin you said, “I’m counting this as a coup.”

Richard chuckled, “You know you’d end up at one of our sets either way, if they are needing actors best get paid for your time anyways.”

“Fine, I will try out for the girl who talks to inanimate objects.”

Lee, “You will love the show. It’s more than just that.”

.

From cuddled up in your own beds to the credits when Richard had long since hung up sleep was hoarded as long as possible until Lee grumbled through picking up the wake up call and warning they would call the taxi for you. Smiling at his hitting the button in your Polaroid to capture your mess of arms and curls right before the struggle to get up out of bed would ensue.

Airport breakfast came with his frozen grin locked your way making you say, “I said I’d audition, don’t you go getting excited like I already got the part.”

“Well, when we land I’ll give them a call see when the next open audition is and we can head up for you to see my place.”

“How is it?”

“It is a palace compared to my place in New York.” Making you giggle, “Two bedrooms with a bath and kitchen, separate, with hot water and a few closets.”

“Look at you all fancy.” Making him chuckle again.

“Still only has an inflatable mattress but I could spring for some lawn chairs for company.”

“How little we actually need when we are just starting out.”

“No doubt with Richard you could afford something much bigger.”

“We don’t need bigger. I have bigger.”

That had him laugh and you giggle as he said, “You have a bed and a half.”

“And a bath and a half, plus closet and sitting room with living and seating room. Little mansion of my own. See, bigger. When would I ever find another like it. You buy a penthouse you got to clean a penthouse.”

“Ugh, just keeping the mildew off the tiles in my kitchen shower is hard enough.”

“Have you tried that mint soap I told you about?”

“Couldn’t find it.”

“Mmm, I’ll show you when we get back.”

Waves from a few of the workers in the diner you’d chosen had you grinning in one of the young ladies timid trot over holding the same magazine you’d posed in the last time you came to California. “Could you sign this?” Just about turned to tears at her lack of a pen until you shook your head reaching into your carry on bag bringing one out that you almost giggled through the half paragraph of a message she wanted. Back again she hurried squealing to her excited friends showing it off as you finished up eating through Lee’s hushed chuckles and muttered comments. Once on your feet to throw trash away turning for the doorway however found a few more workers on their breaks with scattered bits of paper and old newspapers for you to sign for them as well along with Lee. Who after a confirmation of his drop in on Law and Order took turns with your pen as well bashfully scribbling his name for the small crowd that scattered as fast as it had gathered freeing you back to your gate.

Loudly a shriek had you gripping Lee’s arm and a woman hurried over, “Milla Jovovich!”

Once at your side she shoved a magazine in your palms you looked to then up again, “No-,”

“Oh my gosh I can’t wait until all my friends hear I ran into you!!”

Instantly her phone was on and she was calling some woman named Timberlie and you glanced up at Lee asking softly, “How do you spell that name?”

Lee shrugged and you rolled your eyes marking an M followed by a squiggle and the same after what could either be a J or a Y to be safe. Timidly onto the half wall behind her on her pacing around the gate you left the magazine and marker and backed away creeping to the check in gate leaving her to her fantasy encounter. With a grin you reached into your bag to hand over your boarding passes to the just about giggling woman behind the counter who read your name and you asked, “Do I look like Milla Jovovich?”

“I mean, I guess, if you kinda close your eyes a bit. Ignore the hair and the eyes, and I think she’s taller. And not so, curvy.”

“Thought so.”

Lee, “Was she the one in that space film with Bruce Willis?”

“I think that was her name.”

Lee looked you over and said, “They got the Russian part right. Hmm, fun times.”

“Not for her when she finds out.”

Making the woman chuckle and pass your tickets back, “I don’t think that matters, Honey. Just made her year it seems. Either way should be boarding soon. She’s up in first class so she won’t bother you.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, honey.”

Once in the seats you sighed and looked to Lee asking, “I’m guessing you have your script with you?”

His smile split wider and in the tucking of your legs onto the seat with knees laid across his leg closest to yours. Scoring closer he passed you the script saying, “Just the one for the pilot, but it’s so good. Just ignore the post its.”

Into your palms the script for Wonderfalls settled and you cracked the cover page hearing the woman squealing to her friend that you were reading a script making the woman behind the counter wonder who you might actually be as she didn’t recognize your name or face exactly. “I work in the gift shop, nice. Tons of retail background.” Making Lee chuckle as you turned from the first page, commenting on first how you got he powers and smiling as oh smirked at the actions the little figurine told you to take to ‘save the day’ as others would in various situations throughout the show.

A call to board had you holding a finger in the script page folded around it as Lee grabbed both your carry on bags following you back to the desk once pretty much everyone else was boarded. Letting you take up your seat in the back of the plane so very far from the woman up front no doubt having expected to have been seated near you. Five hours two bags of pretzels and tiny cans of v8 later and you sighed relenting to Lee after he’d shared from his post it packed notebook on all he’d studied up on the subject his character had his degree in centered around religions of the world that comes into question when he learns about what gift his sister now has. To his puppy dog stare you sighed out, “It does sound like it’d be fun. Doubt I’d have to do much romancing in it.”

“Oh you’ll have a crush, I think, at best a date. No throwing down in this show from what we were told except for my character and Tracy.”

“Wow,” Making him chuckle bashfully.

“Just a shirtless post tryst scene. She agreed to bra and quick pop into jeans after. I will be wearing pants. Just a few make out scenes after so many episodes of rivaling banter.”

“I do love a good enemies to lovers tale.” Making him smile again, “So, who am I crushing on? How does he look? Am I going for muscle head or average joe with a heart of gold or do I have to gag through the falling for the bad boy cliche?”

“I think, joe? He’s not too muscular. Tyron Leitso, he kind of looks a bit like me, blue eyes though. Ooh, he was in Dinotopia, the one breaking all the rules.”

“Ok, haven’t seen that one yet.” you said with a nod. “But I can always pester him with my Dino knowledge, good.” Making him chuckle again.

“Yes we can see that when we get back, I have a copy of the tapes, and our sister is blonde,”

“Bit of a mish mash family picture we have.”

“Yes, she doesn’t like either of us very much but likes me more for having accomplished something.”

“Nice,” you replied through a giggle.

“Apparently also secretly gay.”

“Ooh,” Making him chuckle again, “That should be an interesting twist. Hope we bond over the fact I’m not going to be a dick bout that.”

“Not sure yet. There is some bonding. Mostly you’ll be working with me, which was why it was so stunning the other actress dropped out, sort of leaves me hanging.”

“Must be a very tall tree,” you teased making him smirk again in easing his tray table up while you slid your bag back under your seat readying for the landing he took your hand for.

“Ha ha.”

Outside the gate you exited through following the crowd to the packed halls back out to the familiar luggage claim you kept to his side hoping that lady wouldn’t follow trying to ask you more about a woman you could barely recall the face of in your mind outside of her makeup covered self.

Just the eyes stuck, yet with bags on your backs to the shuttle you went passing the flashes of cameras that went off in your exit you and Lee gave quick grins to and continued along. Apparently one of those friends had called the press and after your semi known self was photographed by a couple of the cameramen the others waited murmuring about the better known actress they didn’t realize was coming to New York. You would have giggled if you hadn’t known that a few of those guys lived off those paydays and missing out could be bad for them if they didn’t make it up somehow with another find.

.

With burgers and fries across a towel laid out on your bed you watched the films on your vhs player refusing to move the tv to the sitting room only to have to move it back later. “He did not just quote Queen,” Lee chuckled around his mouthful and you groaned, “Ugh, and she bought it.”

A bit later you grinned at the ping pong scene, “Aww, Zippo. Now I’m going to have dreams about Dinos for weeks. Cyrus and the Lord Mayor, have to add them to my dream costar list.”

“I think Capt Oonu should narrate books. Such a great voice.” You giggled as he said, “I would listen to whatever he narrated.”

“Rosemary, I’ve seen her in something. The face isn’t clicking but I’ve heard her voice before. And it’s just picking at me.”

“Same as Zippo, I’ve heard that voice.”

Hours you watched the films then to the sunrise you caught his eye and he asked, “Did you want to go pick up our tickets?”

That had you giggling, “You want to leave today?” He blinked at you and you sighed, “Just a day trip or should I bring a bag?”

“Just a day trip.”

You shook your head and sighed, “You could have said something at the airport.”

“But I had to get my package from the desk.” That had you giggle and say, “Alright, let me at least change my shirt.” You said heading to the closet tugging the t shirt off to pull on a clean spaghetti strap tank top you put on under a nicer t shirt not coated in sun stains, though both kept inching up over your middle causing you to grab a baggy flannel and your jacket. Hastily you brushed your teeth as he did the same using his kit from his bag you dropped at his place on the way down along with his package from his grandma out in Oklahoma he would unwrap later. Grabbing a book to go through you added to your bag along with a spare resume and headshot you shouldered. The apartment was locked up and down you went to meet him in the lobby where he hung up from his call to the office for the show he confirmed an open audition was going to be started by the time you got there.

“Will they be open at least or will we be absurdly early?”

“They are open, bit curious why I called about it, they did ask if I’d be up to being there for some run throughs last week. Said I was on my way up.”

“Nice,” you teased through his chuckle on your joint way out of the building back into the chilly air bound for chillier weather off to the airport again. Widely you grinned to the man behind the counter you had waved to on his way in as you were on the way out with narrowed eyes trying to figure out on his own why you were back so soon. “Got ambushed with a request to go to Canada.”

“Is that so,” he said flatly shifting his hands to type up the flights off to Canada. “We have one in thirty minutes.”

“Perfect.” He looked you over accepting your cash and ID for the ticket and you giggled saying, “Don’t worry, this is my second to last flight today.”

“You want a round trip then?”

“Um, I’m not entirely sure when I’ll be coming back tonight, or how long this audition will take. So no thank you, I’ll just have to pester them to fly me back at their desk.”

That had him chortle and roll his eyes, “I swear, you are here more than me sometimes.”

“Just wait till December, no doubt they’ll hang up my picture, number one customer right here.” You giggled out taking the ticket and cards he passed you back guiding you along to the security desk where the guard outside gave you the same giggle inducing once over.

“Don’t you have a home?” He teased taking your bag for the box to scan as you undid your belt to add to the box along with the odd combination of coins and a weird bottle cap you found earlier.

Lee chuckled and said, “My fault, she’s helping me on a show I’m filming with in January. Last minute drop out we need a new female lead.”

The guard said after you passed through the metal detector, “Two kids your age should not be flying this much. I couldn’t afford baseball tickets when I was your age.”

“Ooh, but my Grandpa got me this credit card, I get miles now.”

“Miles,” the other guard chuckled out shaking his head helping Lee through the detector.

The excited smile on your face had him shaking his head and you giggling, “Don’t miss your flight. And hurry back to get some sleep.”

“I’m on vacation till December after this, tons of time to sleep.”

“And I best not see either of you till then.” He called back as you both filled your pockets and hurried off with bags in hand to your gate in time to check in and file in for a mid plane seat this time.

.

One hour didn’t seem very long at all as once the wheels came up your head tapped his arm and you were blinking awake at his gentle nudge awake when the call for landing was given. The time skip showing how tired you didn’t realize you were. Still a ruffle of your loose curls you twisted up into an unrestrained ponytail you let go of for a moment of cool air on your neck and up you stood joining everyone else for the file out of the plane following Lee who had commandeered your bag as if to force a hostage situation.

Just a simple call warning he was coming and outside the airport was a driver who was on the phone, apparently passing on the news Lee was here shockingly with a guest. A bit confused he opened the door for Lee, who let you in first to follow after leaving the driver muttering about what you looked like. Softly you asked, “You did tell them I was coming, right?”

“Nope,” he said with a smile making you scoff and shake your head turning it to look up the window as the driver hopped in and hung up.

“Off to the studio we go!” He said cheerfully but stole yet another glance at you in the mirror.

Breaking the silence Lee said, “Tracy is gonna flip seeing you again.” Drawing your eyes to him with brow arched up. “Oh don’t, I told people I knew you when you won the Tony and were all over the press and I got so many stares like I was lying.”

“So you just show up with me?” You giggled out earning a nod from him in return before his huff and slide closer to let you lean against his chest through a peck on your forehead. “Incorrigible.”

“Always.” He said settling his cheek on top of your head settling in for the forty minute drive.

.

“You did not bring Jaqi Pear!” The voice was loud and clear from Tracy who was walking out of the studio office. Lee was blocking the view of his guest for the curious secretary peering through the window on the door behind Tracy who was tasked with finding out who Lee had brought and if they were meant to entertain them or not.

Once out Lee smiled saying, “Hey Tracy, look who I brought.”

Stepping aside for you to hop out making her let out an excited squeal of a sound closing the distance for a hug luring another face possibly of a producer to watch the scene playing on whose mouth dropped recognizing you from the premier Lee was photographed at they learned of the night prior. “Girl! I have not seen you since you graduated early abandoning us all for Broadway!” She pulled back at your soft giggle smiling as she said, “Now you have to tell me how you buy a sweater and end up with nine jobs!”

You giggled again saying, “It wasn’t nine, felt like it, but most of them were small. Extra blips.”

“I saw About a Boy, you were no blip.”

“I didn’t know it was that big! I was love interest number four! When do any of Hugh’s flings in his films get more than a blip when they’re not big names?”

She chuckled and Lee said in a nod of his head to the door, “I think we should go inside,”

Tracy said poking him in the side, “You! They were on their heads for a while wondering who you brought out here with you, please tell me you’re auditioning.” Smiling was her answer at the anxious vanishing act of your voice and she let out another giddy squeal guiding you to the door, “Oh this is going to be perfect. You have no idea, just no idea, two girls so far, a Barbie doll and an amazon woman built more for the Terminator than an adorable quirky show about a girl who talks to inanimate objects. Neither of which stayed for the full interview when they asked if there was a nude scene like they had been told.”

“Wow,”

“Well there’s three in the list for their first interview then they take turns with me, now Lee too, for the second.”

Once through the door the secretary smiled hurrying back to her desk after the producer had turned pretending to fix a clock mounted to the wall he couldn’t manage to hang again he hid behind a potted plant in the corner to follow your group to the desk where Tracy said in a point to you, “She’s auditioning.”

The secretary nodded and passed you the clipboard as you turned saying, “Oh go on, you two have work to do. I know this part so stop hovering you’ve caused enough drama Lee.”

Tracy smiled and turned seeing the producer taking wider side steps to catch up to the pair and ask about your wanting to try out for the part. Into an empty chair you sat crossing your legs for a desk to fill out the papers you turned in with the headshot and resume she paper clipped together and hurried in to the next room to the next stunned producer who showed it to the director as the girl in front of them took a breath readying for her scene. Through the wall you could hear loud awkward readings of the lines timed like a metronome in a flat tone possibly signaling she was throwing this audition or simply this was her first time. Looking to your book unlike the other girls watching the beaming girl strut her way out past who you would assume to be her gawking mother you bit back your smirk propping an arm up on the arm of your chair soon covered with your loose curls that had the other straight haired girls stealing lingering stares your way wondering why you and your apparently grungy self had come to try for this part to be lead in this show. They got called back however and both came out to be called in to the second reads while you finished off another chapter in The Way We Live Now, still stuck in your classic mood for novels to just wallow in missing your cuddle happy Richard so far from you.

“Miss Pear?” Closing the book you grinned at the friendly producer’s aid calling you back watching you add the book to your bag you brought with you into the first office you could just imagine Lee and Tracy pinning their ears to the wall between that and the second they were in to hear how this would go.

The bag was left on the seat and you looked over the sheet the producer handed you and to the camera the aid was manning you read off the snarky monologue you recognized from the script you borrowed from Lee all about the perils of working retail in the Niagara  Falls gift shop. By the third line the Producer had his eyes fixed on you and missed his line the aid read for him making him stutter glance her way only to have you pick up again for a rude interaction with a guy who refuses to buy anything after asking you a bunch of questions about a video playing in the shop.

Smiling again from the scoffing shake of your head to the imaginary back of the fleeing customer as you leaned into the chair standing in for the counter they had asked you to use. The page was handed back and moving your bag at his throat clearing in his hand gesture to sit you did settling on one of your bent legs to not be too terribly short across from the pair. “Do you have experience in retail? That seems, very authentic.”

Mid giggle you replied, “Yes, years of it, waitressing to working in shops to get through school to pay what was left on my tuition after scholarships.”

“Yes,” he said looking to your resume, “This says you went to Oxford and Julliard?”

“Yes, I got accepted into Oxford first, mainly for science, my dad said I had to have a backup plan, then my audition, word got back to me I was approved for Julliard too. Bit unusual but I mastered in both Drama, Arts and Science for my degrees.”

After a moment he wet his lips and asked, “How did you hear about this part?”

“Lee, um, I got two roles in two different horror films and my Mate hates to watch horror films in the theater so I asked Lee to go with me instead. He asked if I’d come to check out his apartment out here for the show and the role came up. It’s really a unique idea for a show, had to at least give it an audition.”

“You know Lee well?”

“He’s my best friend, he started at Julliard in my second year,” you answered with a grin making his split wider, “And I believe Tracy was in my year. I kept my head down for most of my first year, I was under five feet still and just didn’t have he energy for comments on that between classes.”

“And, there are, some interesting roles on here. Since your lead role on Broadway you’ve been mainly extras?”

“Yes, I, see I have a habit of being a last minute addition.” Causing his brow to tick up, “For Chicago on Broadway it was a couple weeks before the show was to go on that my teacher, who was choreographing it, tipped my name to the Director and head producers that I could fill in. I got back from Christmas holiday break in England to New York where they had a bunch of films recasting their extras so I got a stack of auditions. The Lord of the Rings was really the only one I got auditioning the old fashioned way and I got that for stunt and body doubling work under pounds of prosthetics. Other than my last film which I got for my ballet and musical training.”

“You’re not limiting yourself to simply musical or dance based roles then?”

“No,” you said with a shake of your head, “No Chicago was just one of my two musical ones with this last film I did.”

“And you feel you could hold the lead role in a tv show? I see this would be your first one.”

“I would be lying if I said I couldn’t hold the weight of it. I give all my projects my all and I don’t imagine filming a tv show would be any less work than for a film, I might not have been your first choice but I won’t let the Producers or Director down.”

“I don’t doubt that, Tony award, plus our other Producer saw your spot in Enough. Went on about how the purple eyed girl could have been given a larger spot to fit the talent.” Holding back your smirk you nodded as he asked, “Why do you think Lee would have thought you perfect for this?”

“We get on amazingly, so it wouldn’t be hard to melt into a good chemistry for scenes, including any sort of familiarity in moving around one another like siblings would depending on how small the sets are made for their childhood household. I suppose also for the retail bit he knows I’d be able to have experience no doubt on unruly customers or how people tend to distract themselves while alone working in a store.”

“Really,” he said with a grin, “How did you entertain yourself working alone?”

“Until Lee got there I would recite from books I’d read a million times until the store emptied then I had audio books I put into the boom box at the store until the guy filling paper goods shouted for some music or he’d fall asleep. Then of course I’d blast opera or the classic musical tapes I had.” Making him chuckle at your smirk, “Then Lee started there and I had someone to rehearse with or just chat on in circles through the night to keep him awake while he got used to working nights and going to school.”

“How do you think Lee or Tracy would take it if we were to choose against you?”

“They’ll survive.” You giggled out, “Honestly it wouldn’t really change anything my Mate has a film he’ll be working on in Canada while you are filming out here so I could still spend time with them and hear how everything is going.”

“Oh,” his brows inched up, “So you already plan on being out here at that time frame.”

You nodded, “I have two premiers in December, some press for a film late January, and another film out in mid to late January. Until September, I have a few things that have been lined up, but it’s all pretty flexible.”

“Well we don’t have much to film for winter scenes,” he muttered on his way to the door causing you to turn and stand at his opening the door, “If you’d give us a few moments we’ll call you back for the second round.” With a nod you went back to your former seat in the waiting room a bit confused if you’d given a good impression or not and with camera in hand he led his aid into the second office where you saw Lee and Tracy off in a third side office reading scripts no doubt until the pair entered the office next to theirs. The door shut and shaking your head you went for your book again and for what seemed to be far longer than you had seen the other girls wait you read until the door opened to the office after you heard a muffled shriek that made you flinch followed by a few loud thuds.

“Miss Pear?” Closing your book your face must have been priceless because she let out a bashful chuckle saying, “There was a bug, it fell on me.”

“Ah, ya, hate that.”

You said crossing to the doorway where you found Lee tying his boot back on letting out a weak chuckle, “You missed it, huge centipede.”

“Glad about that,” you said eyeing Tracy shivering off her crawling skin from seeing the bug just scooped away into the trash.

The second Producer asked, “You’re already planning on being out here in early January?”

“My Mate is filming here, well, in Canada, he hasn’t shared where exactly. Also said we could look into apartments near the one Lee rented. So it must be relatively close for him. I do have to be through Europe though near the end of the month.”

The Director shook his head, “No, no, only two episodes I believe heavy for winter months. We don’t have lengthy film windows for that, and even then we could touch up again in February if we would have missed something. Will you be here then?”

“Yes, one of my extra spots is being reshot in England, but it only should take a couple weeks. I’m just an extra blip in the film for some humor. Then I can just pop right back.”

The Director chuckled, “You really do bounce back and forth around the globe don’t you?”

That had you giggle, “You have no idea. But I’m used to it. Through school summer to fall in Julliard and Holiday break in Oxford then back again until summer for my semester back at Oxford. And New Zealand and Canada seem lovely alternatives for the ocean hopping paths too.”

Smoothing his hands down the sides of his jeans the first Producer watched the second pass you a page you looked over, “If you wouldn’t mind, Lee and Tracy have read up on the scene we’d like you to run through.”

You nodded and they set up some chairs and the spare table along the wall on your right for a mock set. Out of your jacket you shrugged leaving it by your bag along the wall stepping into place for what had the others smirking to themselves at how the three of you clearly had chemistry and a great flow already even just dropped into a scene. A few adjustments were made for the next few times you went through the scene and the second behind that one to ensure you might fit the mold they were looking for.

Facing them again you grinned holding a hand over Lee’s eyes giggling out, “Just ignore his face,” That had you giggle at his bump to your back and hug of your arm now being pinned to his chest so he could inspect the group that had just broken from their hushed conversation.

The Director was the one to say, “Well you certainly mesh well personality wise.”

At the glances from the Producers you knew it was something about how you looked, and the Second Producer asked, “Do you perm your hair?”

“No,” you shook your head, “And if you need it straightened or shorter or even dyed I’m good with that. I asked Lee about that earlier, he said the sister, other sister, is blonde.”

“That’s good,” the Director nodded, “Very good, I think blonde might be a bit too drastic a change, our original thought was for a brunette actress.”

You nodded and said, “Sure, about how long? Mine is to the middle of my back, but it can reach my waist if I straighten it.”

Tracy said, “Original girl’s was here,” she said on your upper bicep about to the level of your bust.

“Oh that’s no problem. I have some friends who have been dying to play with my hair.” That had brows rising on the Producers, “They’re licensed beauticians, work with pageants mainly a few films they’d give me a good deal since I have so much hair and they’d have to straighten it then cut it then dye it and straighten again. Giving them tons of time to play with it.” After a moment you said, “Plus Lee’s brows are kind of similar to mine, I have some colored contacts if you want me to wear those too.”

The Director said, “I think the purple should be fine. From a distance they kind of look blue, besides, the purple is sort of your charm. Can’t hide that.”

Lee’s hands shifted a bit more comfortably around your arm he lowered to rest across his belly thrilled to have had this go so well. “How are you with swim suit shots? We have a scene for a hot summer day with an actor being shirtless and in the script we would have you possibly in a bikini top and shorts sunbathing.”

“As long as it’s a sensible top that should be fine,” you giggled out, “We won’t be filming that in January, will we?”

“No,” the trio chuckled, the first Producer saying, “In Spring when we pick up filming again.”

The Director nodded and offered his hand yours was released for, “Welcome aboard then. We’ll send the contracts to your lawyer along with a firm timeline for filming so you can plan accordingly. Thank you, truly for coming along. We will let you know about the table read dates coming up through the next few months.”

Pt 29

Hobbit – Soulmate - @evyiione​​, @deepestfirefun​, @rhaenaatargaryen, @anastasialovers

X all Rich. A - @abiwim​, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress

X Lee P - @tigereyesf​

All –

@himoverflowers​​, @theincaprincess​​, @aspiringtranslator​​, @thegreyberet​​, @patanghill17​​, @jesgisborne​​, @curvestrology​​, @alishlieb​​, @jogregor​​, @armitageadoration​​, @fizzyxcustard​​, @lilith15000​​, @marvels-ghost​​, @catthefearless​​, @imjusthereforthereads​​, @c-s-stars​​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​​, @mariannetora​​, @shes-a-killer-kween​, @ggbbhehe4455

[its-starker15]

Peter Parker's Journey with Makeup!!

Pt 1.

Peter likes wearing May's make up, however he does it in secret. He still a beginner and he doesn't know how she will react. May has been amazing when he came out to her, but theres a nagging feeling that she will be disgusted. One day May finds Peter applying lipstick in her bathroom, Peter is embarrassed, but May being the sweetheart that she is tells him that she knew that he was wearing her make up. So brings a small Ulta bag that she had under her bed with a few stuff for Peter. Peter breaks down and covers her in kisses. After that Peter wears it more often, until it's is an everyday occurrence. He learned that people in school don't really care, sure at first every one was surprised, but after a few days they didn't care. Even Flash told him he looked good. His confidence was an all time high. However he isn't confident enough to wear it in front of Tony. So every time he goes to the tower he takes it off in the car. Happy knows not to tell anything to Tony after he first saw him when he went to his house to take May out on a date. So he always carries some wipes in his car.

One Saturday morning while Peter, Mj and Ned where playing some uno cards, Tony calls Peter for an Avengers emergency, Peter doesn't think twice before donning his suit and swinging off to Tony. After they go back to the Stark tower and Peter takes his mask off, completely forgetting that he is wearing a bit of make up. Tony just stares course he can't believe how cute Peter looks, he always looks cute, but now. There was something stirring inside if Tony that he couldn't explain. Peter doesn't understand why he is staring, but then he remembers. He is mortified. He can feel his eyes burning so he puts his mask on and runs of the helipad. So he swing his way back to May's, trowing his make up under the bed in a trash bag along with his Spidey suit and hids under the covers. May find him in the same place asleep many hours later, with mascara stain face and blotchy face. May doesn't know what happened but cleans his face with some make up wipes and stays with him until the next day.

Peter wakes up by a thumping sound, when he tries to move he feels a weight on top of his stomach where Peter finds May sleeping on him. He moves as fast as he can without distrurbing May, how she hasn't woken up by the knocking on the door he doesn't know. He looks at himself through the mirror expecting black trails down his cheek but any make up that he supposed to have was clean off. A small smile graces his cheeks. He runs and puts the first pants that he can find as the knocking gets more frantic. The thumping gets even louder accompanied by someone calling his name. He recognizes the voice, but he doesn't want to believe it's him, he is probably disgusted with him. But a darker part of him tells him is him, that he is here to fire him. Cause why would he work with a disgusting thin like him. He makes his way to the door, when his Spidey senses makes the base off his skull buzz. He jumps back on instincts, suddenly the doors slam open, falling off his it's base, on the other side is Tony blaster on hand. When they lock eyes the worry lines on Tony's face melt away when he sees Peter in his Hello Kitty pajamas. Tony strides up to Peter and gives him the biggest hug, squeezing tight the sleepy boy in his arms. Peter is shock, sure him and Tony have hug before, but can count them on one of his hands fingers still free. He doesn't know what to do, why is Tony hugging him? Isn't he disgusted with him?

Tony takes a step back, but still but still maintaining two hands on his shoulders. He looks at Peter confuse face, his eyes red as if he fell asleep crying. Tony knowing Peter he probably did. Even though he is feeling relieved that Peter is okay, he gets serious. "Peter I have been calling you all morning!! You and May both, and neither of you answer me!" He tells Peter a small frown forming in his face. Peters face falls, a look of regret falls present of his face. " Sorry Mr, Stark. I usually have my phone on vibrate, and May's, well I don't know about May's. But I'm sorry for worrying you." Tony melts a little bit at the younger mans apology. "Don't worry Peter, just don't run away like that ever again. You hear me young man??" Tony advises. He was worry sick when he couldn't contact both of them.

Peter being reminded of his actions of the day before chimes away from Tony hands, suddenly self conscious of his shirtless torso. "I'm sorry for yesterday, you didn't need to see my disgusting self like that" Peter apologize, red coloring face traveling to his ears down to his chest, eyes burning. Tony face falls and rapidly tries to reassure the young man in front of him. " Oh, no, no, no nonononooo! Hey Peter I don't think you are disgusting!! No actually is the other way around. You looked beautiful, you looked more confident lately. Do you wanna know why?" Peter nods shyly " it's because you are being true to yourself," Tony licks his chapped lips "and Peter I'm so proud of you because of it" at the mention of this words Peters dams breaks, tears falling unabashedly. Tony takes Peter in his arms, hugging him tight against his chest. Peter hugs him back this time the soft hum of the arc reactor against his ears is comforting.

"Finally you made up" May's voice surprised them, making them break the hug. "Hi-uumm hi May, Morning" Tony greets May trying to act as if nothing just happened. Then a loud crash startles the trio. They all look back to see that the door had completely fallen off the frame. "So donut??" A sheepish Tony says as he holds up a box of donut from the coffee table where a second box of donuts was present with three cups of coffee.

A furious expression colors May's face as Tony tries to act as everything is fine. Peter makes his scape to his room to change and put some decent clothes. He has an internal fight with himself. Should he wear makeup or not. He was about to go out with none when he remembers Tony's words. So he plops down on the floor and gets the bag of under the bed. Peter prays softly under his breath hoping that they weren't broken. It seems that his "Parker luck" wasn't acting up this time since nothing was broken. He put everything is his night table and turns on the LED mirror that MJ gifted him. Peter doesn't have much since make up is an expensive hobby, but he has enough makeup that he can make do. He has to redo his eyebrows two times, and his eyeliner was even this time. Now it was for the trickiest step, the eyelashes. Every time he wears them there's a part of the lash that always stick up. He already worked that pair two times before. He knows is because they are from the dollar stores, but good lashes are around $20. He completely gives up on them and throws them away. They didn't work anymore. He throws a peachy lipgloss. He looked pretty, but he felt like his outfit was too boyish. A pair of scissors catches Peter eyes. An idea popped into his head, it could either go really good or bad. But there wasn't anytime to regret because Peter already took his white shirt off, and was cutting it up. He tries it once again, the white shirt that fell on top of his jean, now sit softly a little bit higher of his belly bottom. Peter felt pretty, he snag a blue flannel shirt on his way out of his room.

Peter tries to act as nonchalant as possible, but in reality in anxiety was through the roof. He didn't know how they would react. When May's eyes landed on Peter she smiled. "You look nice Peter" he blushes and sends a watery smile toward his beloved Aunt. That was just like her making him feel secure when he tries something new without make a big scene out of it. He kisses her cheeks as he snatches a donut from box. Biting into it, the sweet taste of vanilla filling his mouth. A small moan comes out. He expected Tony to make a comment, but when hi didn't he looks around to see him missing. Without even making his question vocal Mays already answering. " He down talking with the building manager, paying for the replacement of the frame and the door. Again." Peter snort, because it's true that wasn't the first time that Tony has kicked down the door. Actually this would have been Tony 5th time kicking or blasting the door down. " You know we should totally give him the keys to the apartment, he already has the code to enter the building, why not the door. " I confess to May , because knowing Tony this won't be the last time it happens. "Yeah but then he will be appearing out of nowhere, without any sense of privacy" she responds back taking a sip of coffee. Peter takes the last bite of second donut, and taking a third that by the looks of it is filled with Nutella.

Peterhear a pair of foots step coming our way, he concentrate on it's heart beat, recognizing it. "so I got good news and-" Tony says scaring May out if the chair making her almost fall if I hadn't step in and saved her. Peter make sure that May is okay before directing his attention to Tony. Tony's jaws is a little slack his eyes not moving from Peter's torso. Peter doesn't make a move to close his flannel, but he can feel his face heating up. Tony clears his clear history a little bit before smiling towards Peter and then starting again " as I was saying I got good news and bad news" May has a face of confusion on his face before biting the bate. " What do you mean there's bad news?" Tony puts his more dashing smile "well the bad news is that he kicked you out" Peter lost his breath at that. He looked at may and saw her face ghostly white. Peter took her hand and made her sit down and fetching her some water, Peter looked at her at Tony, but Tony was smiling. Why was he smiling they just got kicked out and he was smiling. Anger was bubbling at his stomach, Peter was about to lash out at Tony when he was interrupt by the cause of his anger. "But the good news is that I just bought the apartment from him. It took a little bit of convincing, but by the low price of 600 thousand dollars the building is mine!" Tony finished with a wicked grin.

"WHAT?!!!!" Both Pete and May screamed.

To be continued...

[maximoffvizh]

fic: the sun is too bright for me (but your smile is brighter)

he’s imagined how he’ll tell people this story. ‘i grabbed her scarf when it blew out of her hands in the wind’ said in a dreamy voice. absolutely no mention of the vampire reflexes that allowed him to do that | scarletvision au: vision is a vampire trying very hard to pretend to be human for the sake of his new girlfriend. don’t ask him why he doesn’t want her to know

He tugs anxiously at the tight collar of his turtleneck, wondering whether he should drop down to an even lighter shade of blue. Maybe this rich colour is too much of a contrast to his pallor, maybe it shows that his eyes shine a brighter colour than they should, maybe it means that this magical woman will take one look at him and realise that he wears high necklines to hide the two distinct round scars on his neck.

Vision forces himself to step away from his wardrobe, smoothing his sweater down with anxious fingers. She won’t know. She has no reason to suspect that he’s a vampire, that there are bright white marks on his neck showing where the venom flowed into his blood and changed him that late fateful night. He isn’t like those who lean heavily into this part of their identity, dressed all in black with silk-lined capes around their shoulders, haunting the vampire bars and living in apartments filled with expensive furniture and black marble.

He lives as a normal twenty-seven year old, in a cosy apartment decorated in pops of warm yellow, attending night classes for his third degree and holding down a job as a copy-editor. He speaks French, Italian and Sokovian, he knits and crochets and paints, he plays violin and piano and all of those are accomplishments he’s sure anyone who puts their mind to it would have achieved at twenty-seven. It just happens that he was bitten and made into a vampire in the seventies, and has been aging at a snail’s pace ever since. It allows for plenty of time to master the skills of a child prodigy.

He wishes he could check his reflection as he leaves the apartment, but at least it just so happened that her shift today meant she wouldn’t be free until after dusk. No prickle of sunlight will touch his skin, and he intends to treat her at the wine bar and be able to take a walk with her in the moonlight. They can talk about their lives, and he’ll let her do most of the talking - hearing about her life will be far more interesting than telling the lies of his for the hundredth time.

Wanda is waiting outside the bar for him, and he pauses for a moment to admire her, the dark red dress that hugs her figure and her hair tumbling in gentle waves around her shoulders. A black coat skims around her, and she’s examining her nails as he crosses the street and says a soft, “Hi.”

She starts, almost dropping her purse, then smiles, colour flooding her cheeks. “You scared me!”

“I’m sorry,” he says, immediately horrified. Not even thirty seconds into the first date he’s had in almost fifteen years, and he’s messed it up.

“No, no, it’s okay,” she says, seemingly collecting herself. “It’s impressive, being that silent. How’d you learn that?”

“Master of hide and seek in school,” he lies quickly, and she giggles. It’s better than telling her he’s so silent because he’s a predator and she, with her blushing cheeks and beating heart, is technically prey. ‘I am, biologically speaking, supposed to eat you’ is not a sentence to say on a first date. Or ever.

Luckily, she talks enough for both of them through their date. Telling him about her cat and her friends and her job and her childhood, talking about the country he saw before war devastated it, stood on its hills and watch dawn stripe the sky pale lavender. He’s content to listen, to hear her accent emerge more the longer she talks, to take in all of her. He can see the myriad shades of green in her eyes, the dark spread of her eyelashes, the faint freckles scattered across her nose breaking through the thin layer of make-up. Every twitch of her fingers draws his eyes, and he can smell the musk of her perfume, and beneath that the sweetness of her skin, his eyes tracing over the web of veins crisscrossing her wrist.

He takes a deep breath to clear his head, and instead takes a long sip of wine. Wanda giggles and says, “Slow down, handsome, I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you home.” She reaches across the table and brushes a stain away from the corner of his mouth, her finger so warm against his skin, and he stares at her for a long moment before he ducks his head.

Their walk through the park takes them to a stream, a picturesque curved bridge, and he grins helplessly when she tangles their gloved hands together, tossing her hair back over one shoulder and smiling at him. She pauses at the arch of the bridge, and he looks down at the colours caught in the water, at the trembling reflection of the moon.

Then her lips are on his, scalding hot, and he leans into this first romantic contact in so long, the first real human contact in years. Her hand touches his cheek and doesn’t jerk back at the cool of his skin, but cradles him closer. His arms wrap around her and he’s sure that he wouldn’t even notice if the bridge collapsed beneath them.

He does, however, notice when it starts to rain. But Wanda just beams at him and pulls her umbrella from her bag, raising it above them and continuing to kiss him. It feels like a scene from one of the movies he loved so much in the eighties, still watches despite Sam insisting that he has to get a more modern taste in his media, and he smiles against her mouth.

Being in a relationship - that’s what this is, a relationship, a beautiful woman who cheerfully and casually calls him her boyfriend and brings him coffee and buys him novelty socks just because - is somewhat difficult when he’s keeping such a huge secret from her. But he can’t bring himself to tell her. She thinks he’s just a normal guy, admires his cosy apartment and beams when he answers her questions in her language, gushes over the painting and scarf he gifts her for her birthday and lingers in his arms even when he makes excuses about poor circulation and not being able to warm her up.

She’s also shrewd, and clever, and it’s difficult to fool her. He can put her off kissing him after she’s eaten Italian by lying that he’s allergic to garlic, but he ruins that by kissing her when she leaves and having to quickly backtrack and claim the allergy isn’t so severe that it will affect him if he doesn’t ingest garlic. She wears a silver necklace one night that makes his nose itch and his eyes water, and the first excuse that comes to mind is that he just got very emotional over the sight of an old man pushing his equally old dog in a red wagon. He tries to put her off taking photos again and again, until she thinks he’s ashamed of her and that turns into a three-day silence before he turns up at her door with an armful of flowers and a mouthful of apologies, and she kisses him and promises she won’t do anything he isn’t ready for.

She falls out his lap, rumpled and panting and wanting, after they’ve been carefully and slowly making out for minutes at a time, her skirt tugged up high on her thighs and her shirt riding up, and he feebly lies that he has a migraine and leaves her apartment. He’s thrumming with desire, shaking with it, and his fangs are dropped and he runs his tongue over their points with a shudder of horrors. If she’d felt them...if they’d gone further...if he’d hurt her...he has to break up with her.

“Or you could just tell her the truth,” Sam says. He’s lounging on his couch, playing MarioKart, and Vision is fretting on the gaudy rug he’s always hated that Sam bought. For someone who was born in the eighties and turned in the early noughties, Sam really has a thing for the garish seventies aesthetic. “Vampires are common knowledge, she’s not gonna run away screaming.”

“You don’t know that,” Vision says, miserably picking at the seal of a blood pouch. He can still see Wanda’s eyes dark with desire, feel the press of her hips into his, and he can imagine how he looks after dinner. Fangs dropped and stained crimson at the tips. She’d be horrified to see him like this. “I really like her, and-”

“And the last time you really liked somebody you ended up hiding from the crazy father that thought you were a demon and tried to shoot you, I know,” Sam says, and Vision shivers at the memory. Virginia’s father screaming about the devil and his monsters, the bullet that passed harmlessly through him, diving into a river and letting the current carry him away, emerging hours later with nothing to show for it but the filth that caked him, the silvery scar in his chest and the knowledge that getting too close to humans is dangerous. “But times have changed, my friend. We’re an acknowledged species. And this girl doesn’t have a father to chase you with a shotgun, anyway.”

Vision throws the blood pouch at his head. Sam catches it, tears the corner off with a quick flick of his head, and drains it without losing first place in his game. And Vision mopes to bed, lying awake as the sun rises.

He doesn’t see Wanda for a week, avoids her calls and answering her texts. He paints sad dark paintings, works harder, and spends his nights reading long rambling stories about love and crying while Sam makes fun of him. He stares down the barrel of eternity and no more time with her, and he pretends that he isn’t upset. Pretends that he knew that an ending was inevitable, because a relationship between a vampire and a human can’t work out.

He pretends that even when Ian proposes to Sam, and he realises that maybe it can.

To: Wanda

Hey. I’m really sorry. Can we talk?

The knock on his door comes three hours after the fateful text, and Wanda is in his apartment. She’s wearing an enormous grey hoodie and leggings, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and carrying a coffee cup. And she stares at him witheringly, arching an eyebrow, and says, “So you ghosted me for a week, and you wanna talk?”

“I’m so sorry,” he says weakly. “I...I didn’t know what else to do.”

“If you didn’t wanna have sex with me, all you had to do was say so,” she says, and the defiance is fading into hurt, and guilt is pouring hot and gnawing into his chest and he wishes he was human. That he could take her in his arms and show her all the things he wants to do without being paralysingly afraid of hurting her. “If you want to break up-”

“No!” he insists, and she looks up, her eyes narrowed. “No, the last thing I want to do is end this. I...Wanda, you make me feel human-”

“But you are...” She trails off, and her eyes drop to his neck, deliberately bared. “You’re a vampire, aren’t you?”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.” He slumps back on the couch, and she’s still standing, moving closer. “I...the last relationship I had ended in her father chasing me off the property with a gun, before people really understood vampires, and I couldn’t...I can’t bear to think about losing you because of this.” He pushes a hand through his hair, and says, “But if you want to leave...if this is all too much for you...I won’t begrudge you your decision. It would be for your safety-”

“Vizh.” Her voice is soft, sweet, and she cups his face between her hands before she cradles his head to her stomach, and he closes his eyes and breathes her in. “You make me feel safe. It doesn’t matter to me what you are, you’re clearly in control of yourself. And now it makes sense why we only meet at night, and why you don’t wanna take photos, and why you don’t like when I eat Italian, and why you flinched every time I touched you when I was wearing silver jewellery...” She trails off, and he lifts his head to see her frowning adorably. “But why wouldn’t you have sex with me?”

“Oh...um...” If he could blush, he certainly would with her curious expression and her bright eyes. “See...it’s hard for us...vampires, I mean...to control ourselves with human...lovers. And I’m scared that I...I might get carried away and hurt you. Because I...we’d be so close. I’d hear your heart so loudly, and we’d be...naked. And things. I don’t...I don’t want you to get hurt. Not by me.”

“Oh sweetie.” She lifts his chin and plants a simple, sweet kiss on his lips. “You could never hurt me.” Then she smirks, slides into his lap, and breathes, “And make no mistake - I’ll always be the one in control.”

She kisses him, long and hard and dirty, and his breath rasps into her mouth. Her kisses trace a path from the corner of his mouth to his ear, and she whispers, “By the way, you’re a terrible liar. I’ve known from the start.” A tug of her teeth on his earlobe, and she breathes, “Fucking a vampire is on my bucket list. But only if I top.”

If a dead heart could come pounding back to life, that would be the sentence that does it.

[neon-caskets]

No more, no less

Three X Reader from 6 Underground.

~~Three wants a relationship with the reader, but to her, the relationship is just friends with benefits. The reader is the Vegas decoy, and this brings Three’s feelings to the surface~~

TW// Blood, death, swearing (it’s a Ryan Reynolds movie, this was to be expected lmao), Four being a smooth-talker, unprotected sex, oral sex (both parties receiving), my mediocre writing lmao

Requested by anonymous: “Can you please write a Three x Reader for Six underground where he's jealous and wants a real relationship but readers just wants friends/co worker with benefits. Thank you so much! Love your blog!”

I love this idea! Hope this was something like what you wanted

(Y/n = Your Name, h/c = hair color, e/c = eye color, s/c = skin color, you get the idea lol)

“One, I swear to God, if even one of those gross old men put so much as a finger on me because of this getup...” You muttered as you stepped out of the private jet’s bathroom in your outfit. Red lingerie with intricate lace and stockings. “Well?” You pushed h/c hair behind her ears, e/c eyes avoiding the group out of awkwardness.

The other ghosts gave you a quick glance over, Three’s eyes hovering longer than they should have. None of the others knew about your secret evening meetups, what Three and Eight did in the dead of night when the two of you were alone. They, You, if you wanted to remain on the team, needed to keep it this way. He eventually pulled his eyes away from the lingerie that hugged every curve of your s/c skin.

“Do I look like a lady hired to please the four generals?” You rephrased, raising your brows.

“Definitely,” Five nodded quickly. “You really look the part...” She trailed off as a whistle interrupted her.

Four whistled at you and everyone rolled their eyes. One shook his head, “You’ve got no subtlety.”

“Because I need subtlety,” The blond-haired British parkour expert retorted. He gave you a blink-and-you-miss-it wink and commented, “You look good. Really good.”

“Keep it in your pants, Four,” Seven remarked, tossing you a red dress that would cling to your skin. “I’ll go set up a sniper nest.” He left quickly after, duffel bag with a sniper rifle inside in his hand.

You slid the dress on over your head and asked Four, “Zip me up?”

As the others busied themselves for the job, Four placed one hand on your hip from behind and the other on the zip of your dress, whispering so softly that only you could hear, “Honestly, Eight, I could, but really I just want to take it off you again.” Four did love to be suggestive.

You didn’t notice the look of sheer jealousy being shot towards you and Four from Three. He was barely able to bite his tongue as he put on his disguise and prosthetics and hid away his handgun.

Four knew to behave and zipped up your dress. He passed you a smile that reminded you just how hot you looked right now in your sexy little number, and then he left to prepare for his part of the job too.

Three watched as you left the jet and headed towards the Las Vegas hotel and racetrack. To say he was jealous was an understatement.

~~A little later~~

You tagged along with the other ladies heading to the hotel room of the Turgistan generals. It was your job to find the one that knew the most about where the brother of the Turgistan dictator was being held, get him away from the others, and keep him busy whilst Two and Three cleared the room and neutralized potential threats.

The generals weren’t exactly eye candy. Three was sweet and, as you’d discovered, definitely hit the spot. These four older men were a little less pleasant. When the leading lady introduced the group as a ‘gift’ to the generals, you tried not to gag.

There were six ladies including you, so you hopped onto the glass table at the side of the lush hotel suite and held the knuckle of your index finger between your lipstick red lips as the other women started showing off their lingerie in a strip show for the generals. You crossed one leg over the other as you observed not the scene of ladies hired to please these men, but the room itself. With a keen ear, you heard one of the generals tell another in a thick Turgistan accent, “What a reward for what you know! Do you think we would be getting this reward if you weren’t so knowledgable on our leader’s brother?”

In their racy lingerie, the ladies split up, two to two men, one to another, and you hopped down from the table and placed yourself in front of the man who you decided probably knew the most. A false smile crawled over your lips, but a joyous one formed on his face. You led him to the enormous bedroom, leaving your red high heels outside the door as a sign for Two and Three when they arrived.

Both you and the general looked back to the door when you heard the other women shriek and someone’s body hit the floor, but you distracted the general by holding his face in one hand and making him look at you, “Sounds like they’re having a good time.”

Fuck this. You internally died as the general started loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. Seriously, fuck this.

The door burst open, and Two and Three strode in. You sighed in relief before grabbing the general by the tie, tightening it, and shoving his face down against the bed as Three aimed a gun at him and Two handcuffed the ladies to the furniture in the living room.

“Thank God you got here when you did. There was not a chance in hell I was stripping for this dude,” You told Three, who smiled proudly. Then you gave your attention to the general, “You’re the last living general. Tell us everything you know, or we kill you too.”

“It’s too late,” He began shakily. “The deal is done. Two tons of gas, delivered by tomorrow.”

Then One, disguised as what you guessed was meant to be a biker, walked in. “Where are you keeping Rovach’s brother? Three seconds, be specific. Talk! Three... two...”

“Ni Hai Tower. Hong Kong. Penthouse.”

“... One.”

Three put a bullet through the general’s head and he fell to the floor.

“Why did Two and Three get to be tennis players and I got this?” You asked One, gesturing to your outfit.

One stared at Two then Three, “Tennis players? That’s what those disguises are?” He sighed, shaking his head, walking away.

“Your costume’s stupid too, motorcycle dick!” Three called after him. You sighed heavily, hanging your head back tiredly. You followed Two and Three out to help them handcuff the other women to the furniture and drag the bodies of the generals into a neat pile in the corner. 

Two then, graciously, told you that she was able to carry on from here and that your shoes would trail the blood out, so she took over for you. This gave you the opportunity to explore the hotel suite for a while. It was huge. Everything was expensive. In fact, it was its own enormous, fancy floor. You heard Two shout an ‘Au Revoir’ to you and Three, then she left to find One and the others. 

Three startled you when he opened the door from a lounge area on the opposite side of the floor to where the generals had been killed. You noticed the thoughtful look in his eyes, like he was lost in his own mind, and you gently took his hand, “You okay?” He sighed before cupping your face with his free hand, pressing his lips to yours. This was how many of your interludes began, he would lead the way and you’d follow, but this time felt like he was leading down a different road. One that wasn’t as clear to see down. one that you couldn’t pinpoint on a map. You pulled back, “What’s going on, Three?”

“I didn’t like the way Cuatro was looking at you. He was practically undressing you with his eyes.” Three kissed your palms and continued, “And then you get sent here to be the decoy for the general? Dressed like this? It’s enough to make any man go mad, mi amor.”

You felt your chest become heavy, as if your heart started pumping liquid lead instead of blood. One recruited you because of your ability to read people, and right now, Three was an open book. You knew this was a possible side effect. You knew it was a risk. But Three was addictive, enticing. You had him once as a late-night hookup and from there you were hooked. The nights became regular meetings, in your trailer back in the Californian desert, or in his. The casual conversations when the others weren’t around slowly became conversations about what your lives were like before faking your deaths, personal things. The friendly touches when you passed, small things like a hand to a shoulder, started to feel like they sparked things in each of you; for you, they meant you were overdue a hookup with Three, but for him, they were his feelings for you blossoming. It was as you’d feared; he wanted this to be more. He wanted a relationship.

“Three... we can’t. I just... I just don’t feel the same,” You told him honestly, deciding that prolonging this would hurt him more, and you cared enough not to do that to him. Three’s eyes glazed as he processed your words. And soft as you’d tried to be, cushioning the blow that you knew would still hurt, you still felt guilt. “Three, I’m sorry.”

He dropped your hand gently, his fingers trailing out of yours slowly, hesitantly. “It’s alright.” But he was forlorn, uncertain. His eyes met yours and he then told you, “I found the biggest bed I’ve ever seen in my life, if you’re interested.”

A small smile crept up on you. “Sounds fun.”

~~Shortly after~~

One of Three’s hands was next to your head, the other against your jaw as you kissed, your back up against the wall. It was heated, passionate, needy. Three's lips locked onto your collarbone, sucking a grouping of hickeys onto your skin, kissing each one that he made. You gave Three a slight push back as you unzipped your dress and it pooled at your feet. You kicked off your heels and Three's eyes raked over her body.

"Fuck," He mumbled into another kiss, "You're gorgeous." He pulled his shirt off and dropped his pants, lifting you by the thighs towards the bed.

Three's lips met yours for another deep kiss as his hands reached behind you to unclip your bra. It was thrown to the floor quickly, and Three's mouth found your breasts, kissing a trail between them, tongue swirling around your nipple as his hand fondled the other. You arched your back as you gradually became more and more turned on. You ran your hands up Three's muscular chest as he toyed with your nipples and left love-bites across your chest.

You reached down, hand finding Three's boxers. His breath hitched in his throat as you palmed him and he got harder. Your other hand dug into his back as he sucked and nibbled the sweet spot on your collar.

Three sat up and hurriedly shuffled out of his shorts, not wanting to wait another second. He hooked his fingers to your panties and looked up at you for confirmation. You nodded and lifted your hips as Three slid your panties off of you, leaving you both totally exposed to each other.

Three sat between your legs, trailing two fingers down your inner thigh, watching the way your brows softened and your bottom lip was clamped between your teeth. You were already so wet for him. He held the apex of your thigh as he brought his head down to lick up your soaked womanhood, eliciting a desirous moan from you beneath him. Three ever so lightly kissed your clit and you gasped in response. Every kiss and lap of his tongue had a raw intensity, yet it numbed your mind. He ran one finger down your slit before pushing two inside, curling up as he continued licking at you, lapping up the wetness.

You writhed under Three as he pumped two fingers into you and continued to send tingles of electricity through your core as a coil of heat started to pool there, waiting to unravel.

And then he pulled out, licking his fingers clean of the shiny wetness that they had sustained. Slowly, he kissed from your navel, all across your stomach and chest, leaving a few more hickeys before molding his lips to yours again. It was like you both were meant for this, lips fitting together so perfectly, bodies moving in sync with each other.

Three teasingly rubbed his hard cock up and down your slick folds, loving the way you mewled and whined out his name, practically begging. Your fingers dug into Three’s back as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, breathing you in as he slowly pushed himself into you, stretching you open, filling you with warmth.

You scraped one hand up Three's back as a moan flew from your lips. Three trailed one of his hands up your other arm which was by your head and laced his fingers with yours as he thrust into you. Three's eyes flickered up to yours for a split second and a smile blossomed on his face, absorbing each detail on your face, lower lip between your teeth in pleasure. To him, you looked like a goddess. Glowing. He then took your lips against his, kissing you deeply as he started to become sloppy in his thrusts from tiring.

You held her arms around Three's neck, legs wrapped around him, making his cock hit your g-spot with each thrust. You arched your back again as the knot of heat that made a home in your abdomen grew. "I'm gonna come..."

"Come for me," Three said huskily into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth, nibbling lightly. A few thrusts after and the heat in you burst and you came all over Three's cock.

Three was close to his own climax and pulled out quickly, sitting on his knees. You crawled over to him and left a feather-light kiss on the tip of his cock. You pumped him a few times, licked up his full length, and took him in your mouth. You bobbed up and down on him. One of Three’s hands tugged on your hair as you took his full length in your mouth, squeezing his balls, earning a moan from Three.

"I'm close..." Three moaned as you continued bobbing on him, swirling your tongue across the head, licking away leaking pre-cum. When you felt his cock twitch in your mouth, you took him to the back of your throat, nearly gagging from the size, and Three came. You swallowed every drop, and Three fell to the bed beside you.

Three took you in his arms, both of you melting into another kiss. More gentle than the ones you just shared. It was filled with warmth. Three rubbed circles onto your hip with his thumb, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"You know," You began with a smile, fingers lightly tracing the curvature of Three's collarbone, "I have a theory."

"Oh yeah?" Three arched a brow, a small smile tugging his lips upward as he softly trailed his fingers up and down the small of your back. "What's that?"

"One only made the no-fucking rule because he's too much of an asshole to get laid."

Warm laughter filled the quiet. You liked the noise. Three nodded, his eyes finding your e/c ones. "Yeah, that is a good theory." One of Three's hands held your face as his expression softened, "What do we do now? We can't let the others know about this, can we?"

You shook your head, "No, no we can't." You sighed and lay your hands on Three's chest, "But maybe... maybe we could do this again? Not as a couple, I don’t think being a couple in this line of work is a good idea. If something happened to one of us and the other was left behind...” You sighed heavily, burying your head further into Three’s chest. “But I think we can keep having these little meetings, can’t we?”

“Of course we can,” Three nodded, humming into your hair. “But can I ask you one thing?”

You murmured a soft yes.

“Can we tell each other our names at least?”

Your reply was an even softer agreement this time as sleep tried to overpower you. 

Three smiled, “I’m Javier. Javi.”

And before you drifted into a slumber protected by the strong arms enveloping you, you replied, “I’m Y/n.”

[conceptstage]

Hey Molly

For Mollymauk Lives Fest Day Five: Resurrection AO3

The diamonds are heavy when they carry them in. Five years of scrimping and saving, of taking dangerous jobs because they paid so damn well, of taking low paying jobs just to make something instead of sitting around the Xorhaus moping, and it had all come to this. The table was draped with several blankets and pillows as they poured the diamonds out of the bags and into the center, spreading them out in a single layer. Jester was bouncing on the tips of her toes, biting her lip nervously. “Do you think we have enough?” she asked. Her hair had grown out in the last several years, though she had pulled all of it up into a high bun on the back of her head to keep it out of her way for this. There was a single strand of curled blue hair that dangled near her nose and she blew it away.

Her style had matured over the years, though her dress this day was still pink. It was less frilly and puffy and hung to the middle of her thighs. She’d ditched the corset and her old, green, short cloak but the Traveler still had a prominent place on the sash around her hips.

Caduceus was standing next to her with a large, kind hand on her shoulder. It had been a while since he’d come to visit them. The Grove was doing well now but Shady Creek was always a threat to the Wildmother’s expanding reach and influence in the area so he preferred not to leave Nila and her tribe alone there more than a few times a year, though he made a special trip out when they sent him a letter saying that they had finally acquired enough money. His hair was so long now it reached his still thin hips and was beautifully braided over his shoulder. He still wore the same armor but there were dents and cuts on it that told the story of his adventures. When he had left with them the very first time, the carapace had been spotless.

“I’m not the best at math, but Caleb has assured me that he has done the calculations. It will be enough.”

Fjord carried in the next bag and dumped it over onto the table, using his scarred, calloused hands to spread them out. He gave Jester a playful smile. “I’m surprised Veth hasn’t nicked any of it yet.” His real accent sounded smooth and Jester still felt a little thrill when she heard it, even after so long. His undercut had grown out to match the rest of his hair and there was only a bit more black than gray in it anymore. His usual armor had been put aside for today and he was wearing a loose gray tunic and black pants. The amulet around his neck had the Wildmother’s symbol carved into it, handmade by Caduceus for the Wildmother’s champion.

Veth kicked him in the back of the knee. Her dark brown hair was trimmed short with a shiny blue sapphire comb pushed through it. The comb had been a gift from Caleb after she’d been changed back into a halfling almost a year ago. She was wearing a handmade dress decorated with buttons and embroidery. Jester had helped her design it but she had sewn it all herself. “Dick!” she said, her three month old daughter in one arm and a small bag of diamonds in the other.

Fjord chuckled. “When Jessie’s first word is ‘Dick’ I’m gonna laugh so fucking hard.”

“So the fuck will I, what makes you so goddamn special?” Luc and Yeza were standing off to the side, leaning against each other and watching the scene with interest but not wanting to intrude on what was clearly a Mighty Nein moment. Veth handed off Jessie to Fjord so that she could climb up the step stool to dump the gems.

Fjord grinned at the baby and held her close, letting her hold onto his finger. “Hey there, little baby. Are you excited to meet-” he paused. “What will she call him? I’m Uncle Fjord, she’s Auntie Jester…”

Veth shrugged and held her arms out to take her child back. “He can pick. I get the feeling he’s not gonna like Uncle or Auntie. Those are too standard, he’ll want something more dramatic.”

They both looked up with Yasha stepped in the door of the war room, three bags of diamonds in her fists. Veth gave her a small smile and hurried over to stand beside her husband and clear the way. Fjord stepped around the table to stand beside Jester, gently pulling her close and kissing her hair. She looked up at him with a smile.

Yasha hesitated in the doorway, then stepped fully inside. “Beau has the last bag,” she said, sitting down two of the bags on the ground beside the table and dumping them out one by one. Her hair was fully black now, still braided in some places but mostly still loose around her shoulders. There was a scar, almost three years old now, across her left eye, leaving it milky white and difficult to see through.

When she had dumped out the last bag, Beau stepped into the doorway, a single bag tossed over her shoulder. “This it?” She asked, meeting everyone’s eyes one by one. She still routinely shaved her undercut but had grown out the hair on top of her head and it was braided down her back. Jester said it made her look like a storybook heroine. She didn’t wear blue anymore, not since the falling out with the Cobalt Soul and Dairon. She wore a dark green crop top and tan harem pants with jade on her wrists and neck and a gold ring in her nose.

Fjord nodded. “Caleb said there were ten bags, that’s nine empty bags over there. I think we’re ready once you pour out yours.”

She nodded and stepped towards the table, dumping out the last bag of diamonds. Veth and Yeza exchanged a silent glance and he nodded, kissing her cheek and taking their daughter. He lead Luc out of the room but the boy paused to kiss his mother’s cheek as well. She smiled, her eyes a little wet and whispered to him that she would see him at dinner.

After they left and Beau finished dumping her diamonds, Caleb stepped into the room. He paused in the doorway and took a deep breath, looking over the table and doing some math in his head. He nodded, confident that they had enough. His red-brown hair was about shoulder length and tied back at the nape of his neck. He was wearing a nice shirt and a leather vest. His pants were pressed and his shoes were shined. He only broke out this outfit on special occasions. None of them had seen it since Luc’s last birthday party. He had a silk scarf around his neck to half hide the slowly fading burn scar that crawled up his neck from under his shirt and ended just under his ear and behind the back of his jaw.

“You look very nice, Caleb,” Jester said, smiling kindly.

“You look fucking uncomfortable,” Beau said, smirking. “You sure you want him to wake up and think you still have that giant stick up your ass after all these years?”

Caleb flipped her off. He had become very free with that over the last several years. She secretly considered it a bonding moment every time. When he came up to the table she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He sighed and laid his hand over hers to comfort her back. They had both been waiting for this moment since they’d seen their friend murdered five years ago. Everyone started forming a circle around the table, looking down at the pile of diamonds. Beau reached out to put a hand on Yasha’s arm. Her expression was stoic, but they knew her well enough to see how nervous and excited she was.

“Ready?” Fjord asked.

“As we will ever be,” muttered Caleb.

Beau grinned. “Let’s get the fucking show on the road.”

Caduceus held his hands out over the table. He closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath and, suddenly, the diamonds shattered. They started floating around in the air above the table like a collection of stars, glittering in the moonlight that shone in the Rosohna sky outside the window.

After a few more seconds of quiet muttering, the diamonds started to coalesce in the shape of a body. There was a pop and the diamonds disappeared, leaving a tattooed purple body on the table in their place. At first, no one breathed. No one shifted, no one spoke.

Then, red tiefling eyes blinked open and looked around at them in confusion, then recognition. He grinned tiredly with pointed teeth and the entire room let out the breath it’d been holding.

“Hey, Molly.”