#especially because he is young n technically he was already out by 24

[dogwittaablog]

you know what’s so fucking ironic about this whole Nolan Patrick situation? He was supposed to be the golden boy for the flyers as in their future captain one day and the key to their ticket to the playoff finals one day. Travis konecny was just a player that had some potential for the flyers. And now Travis is shaping up to be the next great flyer and Nolan is retired. Life comes at you fast huh

THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR REMINDERS, IM STILL TRYING TO GET THROUGH THE PAST 48 HOURS OF THESE SERIES OF EVENTS.

HES JUST OUT THERE SEEING HIS FRIEND/OLD TEAMMATE LIVE OUT HIS DREAMS THAT WERE SUPPOSED TO BE FULLFILLED BY HIM.

[peeterparkr]

perfidy;tom holland|9

chapter 9: the polaroid

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: tim, tom and the broken ankle

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings:  swearing, alcohol mention, angst, smut (skip the * if you don’t want to read it), car sex, marriage mention 

word count: 7.7k

here’s a playlist

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) : tweets, Instagram and a text

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wanna be tagged?

Hi, to make up for not posting yesterday, have a longer chapter.Tell me what you think. Stay safe. 

When seeing a story there’s always a before and after the story. If it doesn’t matter, then it shouldn’t be said. 

Problem is, it mattered to y/n, and Tom. Who were each dealing with a problem that technically shouldn’t matter to them but it did. It really did. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be talking about it. 

Tim had been kind enough to drive her to her building, but she had kept on talking, cueing Tim to follow after her, and when she hadn’t used the lift, Tim knew something was up. Because when y/n took the stairs, it meant she really didn’t want to go home yet. It’s something he had caught during their relationship. Sure, Tim may have not known her since children like the Hollands, but Tim had been the one to actually observe her. He had learned because he wanted to, not because he had lived with it. 

And he knew y/n didn’t do it on purpose, she probably didn’t even know she did it. But Tim followed after her knowing she probably really had to talk about it. 

Tim had regretted the breakup the moment it had happened because he had been the one to give up. But he thought he needed a breakup, because it was getting repetitive, not because he had stopped loving her. Especially not because of the reason for the breakup. They hadn’t really addressed it yet. Not again. He knew they had been on different stages of their relationship, but he never really thought how far off of each other they were. The worst part about their breakup was how aware he was that they still loved each other. 

He watched her as she was making her way up. 

“It’s wrong, right? This is wrong. You see it too, right?” She asked him. 

Timmy chuckled, “what is? The fact you’re not using the stairs?” 

“I… No, the fact that,” y/n stopped midway. “I… The fact that Harry and Emma are engaged.” 

“Why is it wrong?” Tim bit his lip. “They love each other.” 

“But… is it love really?” Y/N crossed her arms looking up. “No, no, I know it’s love it’s just…”

“What do you mean, y/n?” Tim dug his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the wall knowing y/n would probably sit any moment now.

“I don’t know … I know love and it,” she sighed as she finally slid her way down to sit on the stair. 

Tim smiled watching her but then sat beside her. “They do love each other.” 

“Well, yes they do,” she sighed, “I’m just…”

Tim watched her. 

“Harry asked me about it, and I told him not to do it and he did anyway?” She frowned. 

Tim chuckled softly, “you’re angry Harry didn’t listen to you for the first time.” 

Y/n shook her head. “Not really… but I am his best friend! And I’m sure Sam said no too, I talked about it with Sam, his twin brother and best friend told him to wait. And he didn’t.” 

“Why does he need to wait?”

“He’s young… he’s 22 and…wait at least until you turn 24, man, I dunno.” 

Timmy laughed. “But what does age have to do with that?”

“But think about it, Tim. It’s soon in their relationship.” 

“Maybe, but who’s to judge timing when it comes to love?” 

She sighed, “we wouldn’t know much about timing but…” 

Tim scrunched his nose. “You’re right I wouldn’t.” 

She closed her eyes. “Tim it’s .. not that.” 

He gave her a sad smile, “What is it really?”

She stayed quiet and leaned against the wall. Timmy watched her, and pushed a strand of her hair back. 

“I love Emma, alright? I seriously… she’s one of the best friends that could’ve come into my life,” y/n started. 

“But?” Timmy rested his head on his hand. 

She chuckled watching him. “But I know Harry.” 

“You know Harry,” Timothee agreed. 

“I’ve known him his whole life literally and—“

“So then you know he is in love with her,” Tim added.

Y/N bit her lip. “I know many things about Harry.”

Tim nodded. “Then?” 

“I think he’s not being fair,” she said. “He is… it’s just, they’re too young…”

“Too young?” Timothee watched her. “I think you’re just scared of marriage, y/n.” 

Y/N froze. “I’m not…”she suddenly turned colder. “but they’re not ready.” 

“How do you know that?” He asked.

She raised her hands. “It’s obvious!” 

“Well when I asked you, you said no because you weren’t ready and- if she said yes then it means she was ready.” 

“Tim.” 

“You said it, didn’t you? you said ‘I’m not ready and that’s why I’m saying no’.” 

“But I knew I wasn’t ready,” she gulped. 

Tim coughed. “And will you ever be?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Timmy.” 

“I, well, y/n, you know I’m willing to wait a lifetime for you, but…”

She stood up. “This wasn’t about us.” 

Timothee sighed. “Well, we hadn’t talked about it.” 

“I—-well…”

Timothee stood up. “I’m sorry y/n, but breaking up when knowing we both love each other isn’t easy, I mean we basically broke up because I loved you so much I proposed.” 

She glanced away. “That wasn’t the reason why we broke up.” 

“No, I know,” Tim dug his hands in his pockets. “it was leading towards it for a while, didn’t it?”

“No, I… Tim, I don’t want...look, I… I meant about Harry…” she sat back down. 

“I think you’re just scared that Harry shouldn’t have done it for the same reason as to why you said no,” Timmy pointed out. 

“It’s a completely different situation,” she frowned. 

“Is it really?” Tim day on a lower step. “Because I know you said no because you’re unsure about your feelings towards someone else.” 

She didn’t say anything for a bit. Maybe she didn’t want to admit it to herself. 

“No, Tim it wasn’t that.” 

“I’m…”he took a deep breath. “I’m okay with it, y/n, as okay as I can be.” 

“Tim.” 

“Look, I’ve seen the way you look at him,” he shrugged. 

She stood up and climbed upstairs nervously. “Tim, no, let’s not have his conversation, please I’m already struggling.” 

He closed his eyes. “I know, I see that,” he said as he rushed after her and stopped her. 

“See what?”

He scoffed. “The way you look at Tom? Maybe? God, y/n.”

“With pure hatred?” She defended herself as she let out a lsugh.  “Tim please I don’t really want to have this—“she kept going upstairs. 

“I think you should go for it,” he mentioned. 

She stopped and looked back at him. “What?” 

“Yes, go for it,” Tim insisted. “isn’t that kind of the reason we broke up?”

“No, Tim, let’s not go there,” she pushed.

“Y/N,” Timothee calmly followed after her. “we were friends before all of this and I know, I think… I think you should try something with him.”

She was confused, Tim tried to map out the emotions she was going through. She licked her lips as she only watched him. Tim only gave her a gentle reassuring smile. But of course she was perplexed, a man who claimed to love her telling her to go with someone else. 

“What?” She asked. 

“Give it a go.” 

“You’re insane.” 

He finally stepped on the same level as her. “Y/N, you loved him once, and I know there is still that feeling pounding your head.”

“And what would I even do?”

“Dunno, that I don’t want to know, but let yourself fall for him and then you’ll know it. Give it a go.” 

She bit her inner cheeks. “I would never give it a go again because he’s hurt me before, alright? My heart can’t bear that again, and I don’t feel anything—“

“There it is,” Tim chuckled. “So something has happened before.” 

She gulped and looked away. “Not really, no.”

“Are you sure?”

“I did have feelings for him,” she admitted. 

Tim laughed. “That’s brand new information!”

“Timmy.” 

“I am very aware y/n and he has feelings for you,” he pushed.

She rolled her eyes, and kept walking, Tim only followed after her. “That’s the part where I know you’re crazy.” 

He watched her with disbelief. “He looks at you the same way I look at you.” 

She laughed cynically. “No Tim, he doesn’t...maybe he looks with lust, I dunno he’s a devil.”

“Nono, I’m very observant, y/n,” he reminded her. “and I mean you do this with everyone,” he scoffed. “but you take his breath away.” 

“No.” 

“And lately he takes your breath away.” 

“No, Tim.” 

“I honestly,” Tim rubbed his face. “and I hate saying this,” he commented. “you don’t know how much I hate saying this y/n but I really think you should try something... get rid of that feeling you have because I know you, you probably have that little thought roaming in your head,” he pushed her hair back. “Go and try something with Tom, ask him out.” 

“Tim.” 

“You know you want another heartbreak from Tom,”he sentenced. “and if it takes another heartbreak for you to realize we’re meant to be then…” he shrugged, as his hands landed on her waist. 

“Timothee,” she said breathlessly.

“I’ll be here if you want to be in love, I’ll be here when he breaks your heart.” 

“Timmy.”

He stepped closer. “You know we’re perfect for each other.” 

She looked away. “Sometimes too perfect.” 

“But if you love Tom,” he let her go and stepped back. 

She frowned. “I don’t…”she confessed. “I should focus on my writing instead.” 

He followed once again after her, as she finally reached her apartment. 

“Ah yes, tell me what’s the story?”

She looked at the door, and laughed to herself. “I’m writing about falling in love.”

He chuckled. “Such an irony isn’t it.”

You wouldn’t believe it

He leaned against the door not letting her get in. “And how is that going?” 

“It’s… going, I am writing about someone falling in love with someone, the truth is I don’t know what makes people fall in love.” 

Tim smiled. “Hm, want me to tell you what made me fall in love with you?” He leaned close to her, making her blush. 

“Do tell.” She watched him, and she did exactly what he had expected her to do. She looked him in both eyes, her sight traveling from one eye to another..

“The way you look into both my eyes,” he grinned. 

She gloomed. “Hm?”

“You do this thing y/n,” but he couldn’t look away from seeing her. “when you look at both of them, your eyes travel, people usually only look at one eye but you always make sure to look at both, to make sure people know you really listen.”

She Cackled nervously. “And that’s what made you fall for me? That I probably can’t focus enough on one eye,” she appealed as she tried to search for her keys.

“Hey, I’m only starting okay? I love the way you’re so… you, you know? The way you don’t care about what everyone says, the way you—“he places his hand on her face. “The way you are brilliant, and so passionate and—ardent and—“

“Those are synonyms.” 

“And the way you don’t take bullshit from anyone,” he continued laughing as she finally opened the door, she didn’t walk in, she leaned against the door watching him.

“I give that vibe off yet—“she chuckled. “But you know? Does that make people fall in love?”

Tim only rested his arm right above her and watched her. “Dunno,” he gulped. “Maybe? Or maybe it’s the little details, the props, you know? Flower pots… it’s the moments y/n, a walk under the rain, losing breath after laughing,” he continued, as he could smell her perfume, and he heard her hands mingling with her keys. She was shaking, and Tim knew that her heartbeat was going fast, maybe not as fast as his. He knew she loved him. “Or a coffee in the morning, a kiss…” and he knew she wanted this too, so he didn’t hesitate on leaning over to give her a quick peck to taste the remaining cherry on her lips. He had seen her nibbling on cherries the whole day, supposedly they were for the drinks but Tim knew she loved the sweet taste of the sugary fruits.

She kissed him back, slowly and scared. But then she pushed him away. 

“No, Tim, please I can’t do this to you,” she confessed as he watched her. 

“Do what?” 

“No, no, I—“She looked down. “Tim I am really not—I don’t want to hurt you, alright? I need time… I…” 

He watched her. 

“This is too complicated,” she squeezed her eyes closed. 

Tim sighed as he walked back. “‘It’s alright,” he took a deep breath. “But just so you know, y/n, I am not giving up yet.” 

She sighed with a small smile. “Timmy.” 

“Tom will never be able to kiss you that way, I’m sure,” he pushed. “I’m sorry, I’ll… I’ll leave now. See you on set.” 

“Tim…” she looked up at him. “I’m sorry.” 

And he left, not knowing who had had their heart most broken. But he didn’t want to think about it. He used the elevator. 

Meanwhile, Tom was also freaking out over the sudden news of the engagement. 

“I don’t want to tell Harry he fucked up but he fucked up didn’t he? I love Emma and I know he loves her but this is wrong,” Tom said. 

“Yeah… I mean,” Haz didn’t really want to go over this with his best friend as he had already heard him talk and talk and talk about it on the ride.

“Getting married? That’s… crazy,” Tom continued.

“No, getting married is not crazy.” Haz rolled his eyes. 

“No I know but,” Tom opened his fridge to get a beer as he threw one at Haz.

“But what?” Haz asked as he opened it.

“The timing…” Tom took a long sip. 

“Doesn’t that just come in perfect time for you?” Haz pointed out. 

Tom frowned. “What do you mean?”

Harrison laughed. “Look, Tom, I didn’t ask much into it before but you are in love with y/n, and that is a big deal,” he commented. 

Tom coughed. “Not really...shit it’s weird you know.”

“I’d say I’m surprised,” Haz admitted. “but now that I’ve been thinking about it all day, you haven’t been subtle about it.”

Tom looked away. “What?” 

Haz chuckled and stared at him, incredulous. 

Tom waited for an explanation. 

“Come on,” Haz pushed. “The way you hate on Tim, they way that even if you claim to hate her—“

“I do hate her,” Tom interrupted.

“Even if you claim to hate her,” Haz emphasized. “You're always there.” 

Tom rolled his eyes. “Well but that’s because she’s important to my family.” 

“The way that you literally always find a way to be around her just to bother her, and the way you literally know everything about her… Like you literally know everything.”

“Everything she hates.” 

“Oh my god, why are you trying to deny this?”

“I’m not denying it… but that doesn’t have to do with anything.”

Harrison frowned. “Doesn’t it, though? You are in love with her, I know it, it’s okay to admit it.” 

“Well okay now that you put it that way,” Tom coughed. “Yes I am in love with her,” he continued. “But what do you want me to admit? That she takes my breath away every time I see her but I won’t... and yes she’s probably on my mind 24/7,” Tom sighed as he played with the beer cap. “and she’s literally driving me crazy and I want to kiss her all day long and fuck, she’s so pretty, and god, the way she speaks? And doesn’t care at all, and the way she turns everything pretty?” Tom smiled to himself. “God and she smells amazing doesn’t she? Like... I don’t know shit about flowers but I know she smells like them…” Tom bit his lip. “but ... that doesn’t matter because she won’t know this and if she knew this I’d blame you.” 

Harrison just blinked. “What the fuck?”

Tom frowned. “What?”

Haz laughed. “You are literally so in love with her.” 

“I’m not.” 

Harrison watched him with disbelief and not understanding one bit of Tom's head. 

“Okay yes I am, but it’s hard okay?” Tom gulped.”This is literally the first time I ever tell anybody. Dunno.” 

Harrison laughed. “Mate... but now it’s so clear,” Haz had to hold his head, “like... her last birthday?”

“What about it?”

“First, that’s why you were killing Timothee with your glance. “

“I hate Tim,” Tom barked. “He is annoying and boring. Because he’s so dreamy, and fuck, he gave her a ride didn’t he? He’s trying to take her back.” 

“And he will if you don’t do anything,” Haz pushed. 

Tom scoffed. “I can’t.”

“You need to pull another stunt as you did on her birthday?” 

“What stunt?” 

“Gosh, it makes so much sense now,” Haz asserted. “The gift you gave her?” 

Tom smirked, pleased of himself, he had known that he had been the one with the best gift. Not even Timothee with the new Polaroid. And the gift had had y/n texting him for a complete week believing there was something wrong with it, and that I’m any time it would turn out to be a prank. It wasn’t. 

“Please,” Tom scoffed arrogantly. “everyone knows she likes The Rolling Stones. She’s so typical.” 

“But giving her an original vinyl? Signed?” Haz pushed. 

Tom gulped. “I—well, what about it? I’m in love with her, now you know it.”

“Nothing, I’m just calling myself out for being so fucking blind—“Harrison dipped his drink. “How long has this been going on?”

Tom leaned against the counter. “I... well, since forever,” Tom smiled to himself. “Not that... Look, when I’ve dated other girls,” Tom coughed. “I’ve loved them and only them but somehow y/n always finds her way into my heart and that’s annoying like... god”

“I’m just surprised I didn’t notice,” Harrison said. 

“I’ve been pretty good at hiding it, even when we’ve kissed I’ve made everyone believe I didn’t like her,” he admitted.

“Even her huh?” Harrison questioned.

Tom sighed. “I couldn’t. Because Harry loved her and if she knew I liked her back when she liked me—Then I would’ve been an asshole to my brother because he’s been the one who was nice to her all this time. And he—He deserves someone like her, and she deserves someone like him.”

“But Harry is engaged now.” 

“That’s—I don’t know, I think he’s still in love with y/n,” Tom said. “And I feel like this is a perfect way for Harry  to escape rather than actually facing it.” 

Haz shook his head. “I think he really loves Emma.” 

“I do too, but marriage?” Tom frowned. “Dunno, maybe you’re right.”

Harrison nodded. “God, how was I so stupid? I can’t believe I never saw it.” 

“Well, stop it now, okay? I still dislike her and I will keep on disliking her, and I will act like I hate her.” 

Harrison frowned. “That’s very stupid.” 

“Is it? Look,” Tom took out his phone. “I’ll text her that I hate her and she’ll answer back just that she hates me too.” 

Haz frowned. “I don’t get it,” He frowned. “If you now know this, why don’t you just…?”

“It’s complicated.” 

Harrison frowned. “Dude she liked you too,” he reminded him. “Why would you do everything you’ve done if you—“

“I may have wanted her to know I liked her,” Tom admitted. “But then I remembered I shouldn’t and—I don’t think she’s ever believed I like her, even when... the fucking yellow flowers.” 

“I’ve never understood why it means so much between you both and why you always get tense when they mention it.” 

“It’s been a constant prop in our... relationship it’s... nothing,” Tom rubbed his face as his phone vibrated. “She just texted me back.” 

Haz watched him. “And?”

Tom coughed, blushing. “She just said… your place in 30?”

Harrison burst out laughing “She wants the d, great, but no, tell her not to come over.” 

Tom frowned. “Why not?” 

“A, I’m here.” 

“You can pretend you’re not.” 

Harrison frowned. “That’s gross, I… and okay, but a, I’m here and b) Tom, if you’re in love with her having this whole thing, will only make things worse. You should pursue a relationship instead.” 

“Who says I want a relationship? I’m alright like this.” 

Harrison rolled his eyes. “You’ll only end up hurting yourself.”

“I can’t want it,” Tom explained. “Besides, I think I’ve hurt her enough for her to not to want one.” 

“What do you know?” 

“I know her enough, alright? And she probably wants to go back to Timothee Chaglabob.”

“Chalamet-“

“I swear Harrison,” Tom rolled his eyes. “But—I mean if this whole benefits thing works out then I’m good, would I want a relationship where I can kiss her all day and be all adorable and take her everywhere and just make her laugh all day? No. I don’t want any of it, she’s annoying.”

Harrison only watched him, “are you fucking listening to yourself?” 

“Yes, I don’t—I am in love with her but I don’t like her.” 

Haz couldn’t believe what he was hearing, Tom was probably the most stupid man he’d ever met. 

“I genuinely can’t act nice around her,” Tom admitted. “I’m—I can’t.” 

“What if you try?” Haz frowned. “Take her somewhere nice, be romantic, see how she responds and then you’ll see how it goes.” 

“No.”

“You know what? I don’t even know why I’m arguing with you, you’re so stupid,” Haz said before heading to his bedroom. “Please don’t be too loud.” 

Tom only stared at his phone, and texted back: “come here now.”

And Tom knew it took her about 20 minutes to come, so he showered, and he got all dressed up, and then changed into something less nice, a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He even put on some lotion. He had combed his hair back then ruffled it a bit so it didn’t look bad. But he stared at the house? Did he have to light up some candles? Or was that too romantic and out of place for their new title. He lit some up anyway. Should he play music? He bit his lip but searched for some music. 

But this was stupid right? It didn’t have to be this way. It wasn’t romantic. This was not nice. 

But before he could even make a decision to turn everything off, y/n had knocked on the door. 

And he felt like this was wrong but he couldn’t act like it. And honestly, he’d be an idiot if he denied having any sex. 

But y/n was having her own thoughts. She felt guilty. But she technically had Tim’s approval. Didn’t she? But it was wrong and she didn’t know why. 

But she had to admit that Tom had left her hot and bothered after kissing her neck in the bathroom. Besides, she could try that thing with Tom. She had to change this whole sexual relationship into an actual relationship. Did she? Or maybe she could only have fun. 

Of course, that the moment she’d sent that text everything had probably gone to shit. When driving over to his place she realized how this sounded only like a random booty call when it actually wasn’t. Maybe it was. This was y/n wanting to talk with someone without being judged and someone who probably was on the same page as her. 

Because this had her on the edge and as she had typed in some words to her script she actually took into account that she didn’t want to do this. 

She needed to change the script. She could lie. She could write about it without living it. But she wrote about it: enemies with benefits. It had a ring to it, it sounded catchy. Hating each other in the day, but pretending to love at night. It wasn’t a sin. Because she technically didn’t have to try anything, maybe she could tell her boss that she really didn’t want to pull such a shitty thing. But writing about sleeping with the enemy… it was sexy. 

This was so selfish of her. But Tim had reason on what he’d say, maybe she did want to give one last chance to this. She wouldn’t compel, however.  How could she? 

She was scared but the moment Tim had told her to give it a go, a thought had swirled in her mind. Could she give it a go? 

But she hated him. There was some kind of awakening inside her. But she had to remember what he’d put her through. And how even with this he could turn around and run the other way, far from her. And she won’t be able to hide again.

But sleeping with him couldn’t hurt as long as she wasn’t the one to catch feelings.

When the door was opened she saw Tom, with his hair wet, and smelling so good, his lotion suffocating her and begging her lips to go straight to his neck. The drops on his forehead only there to fill her imagination. 

He gave her a grin, but then stared at her sweatpants. 

He gave her a second glance and chuckled. “So how is this—“

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to talk to and I really don’t want to tell Harry because well it involves him and I had to talk to someone but I don’t know why I thought of you.” 

Tom blinked. “You…what?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.” 

Tom chuckled. “Why?”

“I dunno. You know what? Forget it, it’s silly… so,” she squeezed her eyes closed. “Pants off, Holland,” she ordered as she then pushed him against the wall, slamming the door closed and then smashed her lips against his, forcing Tom to close his eyes and place his hands on her waist, his fingers pressing down on her back. She could taste a fainted beer on his lips, and she could smell his shampoo, she could tell he had just showered. 

He laughed as he pulled away. “That’s—That’s?”

“I’m sorry I’ve never had a booty call before.” 

“I can tell.” 

She rolled her eyes and playfully nudged him, letting him go. 

“But you wanted to talk?” He chuckled mockingly. “I didn’t know kids these days were calling it that way.” 

“Forget it.” She looked around and chuckled to herself. “Candles? And music?” 

Tom chuckled. “I—well.” 

“You’re a hopeless romantic aren't you?” 

“Yeah I was about to turn them off, though,” he admitted. “I kind of forgot I was going to sleep with my worst enemy.” 

He blew out the candles and turned off the music. 

She chuckled. “This is stupid.” 

“Why? Want me to turn them back on?”

“I don’t know, it just—is,” she said. “Besides, I think this is the first time I haven’t had any alcohol on me before doing this.”

“Huh, we’ve been pretty drunk, right?” He bit his lip.“What did you want to talk about?” He wondered as he approached her.

“Nothing.” 

“What if we—talk about it while we go for some alcohol?” 

“You want to talk?”

“That can be another benefit.” He took her hand back. 

She frowned as she watched him, unsure as to why he was acting this particular way. He cupped her cheek, but then frowned.“Weren’t you with Tim?”

She blinked. “What?”

“I saw you leave with him,” he commented. 

“I… well, I was but…”

He smirked. “Hm, he can’t satisfy you—and that's why you come to me.” 

“What the fuck Tom?” She pinched him on his arm, earning a laugh from him. 

“Let’s go for a drive, we need alcohol,” he yelled as he took out his keys. 

“You know what? No, fuck off,” she stormed off to her car as Tom followed after her. 

“Y/N, no, come on, come on,” he stopped her, taking her from her waist, hugging her from behind placing kisses on her neck. Tom had learned quickly. A kiss on her neck would have her down on her knees. Of course, like everything Tom learned about her, he’d be using it as a weapon. 

“Why are you so obsessed with Tim?” She frowned, as he continued to pepper her neck with sloppy wet kisses, making her stomach fill up with butterflies. “Tom.” But he didn’t stop, his hands were now travelling down her stomach, as he sucked on slightly on her neck and then his lips delicately landed on her collarbone. “Thomas,” she closed her eyes. 

He snickered against her neck. “You sure you want to leave?” 

She closed her eyes as she felt his hot breath against that sweet spot on her neck. She nudged his ribs and then pushed him back.

“Y/N,” he smirked with lust as he pulled her back to him. “Hm, should we go back inside?” He asked as his lips landed on hers, biting on her bottom lip. 

She cupped his ass and then deepened the kiss, now he was the one to soothe into her touch, as she slid her tongue in.

She pulled away as he was left dumbfounded, earning a smirk from y/n. “No. Let’s go for that drive.” 

He blinked. “Y/N.” 

“Cmon let’s go” 

“Y/N.” 

“Haz is in there, isn’t he?” She questioned. 

“He’s asleep.” 

She looked away. 

“I have beer,” he explained. “We can chug down 8 of them at once and then you’ll forget it’s me who you’re screwing and pretend it’s someone else.” 

She scoffed. “Like who?” 

“I dunno, Chris Evans.” 

She laughed. “I’m not pretending I’m screwing someone else, I just have to… Get to the idea.” 

He placed his hands on her waist. “So?” 

“No, I’m angry at you,” she pushed him away and then headed to her car.

He let out a cackle, and followed after her, he pecked her cheek before pushing her slightly. “Isn’t that the point, though?” 

“No,” she got into her car. 

He laughed not letting her close the door. “I love your car is old, just adds in more to the aesthetic.” 

“Can you let me close the door?” She begged. 

“No,” he chuckled as he sat on her lap. 

“Thomas.” 

He chuckled. “Hm,” his cold lips landed on her chin. “Y/N.” 

*

She closed her eyes, and Tom slowly closed the door. Y/N opened her eyes with surprise as Tom was now letting his hands inside her t-shirt. 

He started to nibble on her ear as she closed her eyes back, her hands roaming through his hair, he licked near the earlobe. Y/n blushed as she then walked her fingers through his chest lining every muscle on his body. 

Her fingers shrivelled at the end of his t-shirt as she slowly pulled it off. He smirked as he finally kissed her lips, slowly and coordinated at first but the kiss getting sloppier as her fingers pressed against his bare skin. He tried shifting her as his hands cupped her breasts now, kneading them as he pleased. 

She let out a soft moan, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue now sliding in. Tom took her waist in his hands as he then tried to pick her up. 

“What are you doing?” She asked between kisses as he tried moving her. 

“Sh,” was the only response he gave her. But he reached for something under the seat desperately . He finally reached for something as he pushed the car seat back, giving them slightly more space to move. 

He kissed her again, smiling slightly against her lips. 

He managed to pull off her shirt, revealing the red lacy bra she had so kindly and carefully chosen. 

He took a second to stare at it, catching his breath as he stared at the red bow in the middle of her breasts. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, y/n,” he gasped as he looked at her face now, with her hair puffed up, and only her eyes covered with slight mascara and a faint pink from the makeup she’d worn at the party. A trace of red lipstick was seen there too. 

She grinned at him as she pulled him back down to meet her lips with him, she giggled against the kiss. 

“I hate you but I can’t believe how beautiful you are,” he caressed her cheeks with his lips. He dug into his pocket and took out his wallet, searching for the condom.

She didn’t say anything as she slightly bucked her hips against his, her core pooled from every single kiss he had placed on her body, she grinned herself against him to get a sort of friction. Tom managed to move just slightly to path down his way to her chest, leaving a trail of his kisses as it shined with the streetlight. 

Her hands went down to his sweatpants that were hiding nothing as his hard length was begging to come out. Her slick hand found its way inside his sweatpants as she palmed above his boxers. He only curved up his hips as she started to graze the tip of his cockhead, as it twitched with the slightest touch. 

He curved again but now hitting the claxon, both of them scared by the loud noise, they laughed at each other. 

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath as she tried to hide her giggles. “We have to be careful.” 

“No shit,” he laughed as his hands migrated to her thighs, opening her as he managed to pull down her own sweats, revealing the red lacy panties matching with her bra. “All dolled up for me?” He asked cockily as his fingers brushed the little bow on the fabric. 

She bit her bottom lip as he found his way down to nuzzle her breasts. She was feeling just slightly guilty that Tim had kissed her just hours before. The little space they had could only give them such movements, but her hand didn’t leave his cock as she traced it up and down, his length swelling up . He  moaned just slightly and cursed under his breath as he pushed down his underwear, he couldn’t help it anymore. 

“I need you,” she whispered. “Tom, I need you,” she moaned. He wrapped the condom around him. 

He nodded fervently as he finally without any warning, pulled down her red panties and pushed into her. He had to take a deep breath as he felt her drenched pussy covering him up. She moaned, enjoying the full blister as he had filled her up. 

“So tight,” he moaned as he shifted above her, slowly bucking his hips up and down, her hands landed on his ass, as if trying to push her further into her. 

“Oh god,” she gasped, as she danced her own hips around him, with the reduced space they had to barely move but the friction against the seat. 

Tom was deep buried in and he slowly started to hip in and out quickly, finding a pace that had y/n moaning his name, but he covered her mouth, and she pushed him further in, trying to avoid another claxon accident as before. 

And the windows were fogging up from the heat created between them. Y/N needed to get her grip as Tom kept pushing into her, filling her up until he could feel himself in her stomach roughly. His lips trying to catch hers in between gasps and moans. 

 “Tom,” was all she could say as her fingers painted down in the blurred window. Her back now moving faster with the help of her sweat. 

She was rolling her eyes back with delight as Tom was hitting her right in the spot, she reached down to circle her clit but Tom replaced her hand with his, as he circled it slowly, teasing her at first. But then rubbed it fast enough for her to wash out her orgasm. 

But her own hands scratched his back as she was trying to catch her own breath,  as she tried to get a grip of the reality that was going in between. The smell of sweat combined with his lotion and her own perfume. The taste of beer combined with her own taste of cherries. 

She couldn’t hear anything, only his gasps and her name coming from under his breath. She moaned just slightly as he thrust in and out, a fast rhythm, that was getting sloppier with each thrust. 

He was shaking and he finally curved in, he groaned but then finally shivered as he came right into her, her clenching pussy just tightening it. 

He moaned her name, throwing his head back as he then plopped himself above her, catching her breath. He finally pulled out but remained kissing her neck.

*

He kissed her once again, as she caught her breath, little gasps as her fingers swirled around his hair. She stared into his caramel eyes and then cupped his face, pecking his lips just slightly, his hair now combined with droplets of his sweat and the water from his earlier shower. His cheeks red as he continued kissing her. 

“Shall we go for that ride now?” He asked, chuckling slightly. 

“I don’t know if I can drive,” she admitted as she moved her legs, panting softly. 

He smirked cockily. “Hm, I’ll be driving your car then.” 

She rolled her eyes as he tried to sit up, once against hitting the claxon letting out a loud noise.

 They laughed at each other. 

“Well if Haz wasn’t up, then he sure is by now,” he chuckled. 

He pulled up his underwear and sweatpants.

“Mmh, drive shirtless,” she pleaded. 

He smirked. “Alright.” 

The ride was quiet at the beginning. Y/n had put in Tom’s t-shirt. Tom’s hand would land on her thigh every now and then but y/n would flick it off. However, her own hand hadn’t left his leg. He would cough and slightly move trying to remain calm. Y/N only smirked. 

“You  hungry?” He asked, as his hand landed on Hers, squeezing it slightly. 

“Yeah, a bit.” 

“I’m craving breakfast,” he commented as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing it lightly. 

“At 1am?” She laughed pulling her hand back. 

“Why not?” 

“Isn’t like a worldwide known rule not to have breakfast with your booty call?” She pointed out. 

He laughed. “I love how you keep calling me a booty call.” 

“Well aren’t you?” She giggled. 

He grinned. “Well, but it’s not the morning so it wouldn’t be cheating the rules, it’s against the rules to have breakfast the next morning.” 

“Huh.”

He chuckled. “And I know this place that’s open 24/7.” 

“But isn’t it against our other rules? We are enemies, Holland.” 

“I’ll make you choke on a waffle, don’t worry,” he pushed. “And besides we can get it to go and have it somewhere else, therefore… Not breaking any rules.” 

She sighed. “Fine. Let’s go have breakfast.” 

-

Y/N had to give him his shirt back as they went to the place. But as soon as they were back in the car, y/n was hesitating. She would be driving now.

“It’s late, Tom I should probably go back home,” she reminded him. “I’ll drive you home and—“

“Or we could go to the treehouse,” he commented. 

“The treehouse? At 3 in the morning?” She laughed. “I’m not sneaking into your parents’ house.” 

“Why not?” He laughed. “It’s not sneaking in, really, I’ve got the keys, and I’m allowed to go there.”

She chuckled. “You really want to take me to your parents’ house to have breakfast?” 

Tom scrunched his nose. “Well if you put it that way.” 

“That would get you in trouble wouldn’t it?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Let’s go then,” she smirked as she took a sip of her milkshake. 

And they were quiet for the ride, as Tom would only sing along to the songs playing on the radio. Y/n’s old car couldn’t play anything but cassettes, which at the moment Tom didn’t really want to listen to. He knew most cassettes had been a gift by Timmy. 

He had been honest, he loved her car. An old, silver vintage car.  It belonged to her grandparents and she had been keen on getting it back on.

Tom only watched her as she was licking the tip of her lips and focused on the road. Or so did Tom think. 

Because what he didn’t know was that y/n was debating with herself over the current events. The fact that Harry was engaged. The fact that Timmy had kissed her and the fact that she had ended up having car sex with Tom anyway. 

But she stayed quiet, and even quieter as they sneaked into the Holland’s household, y/n trying not to chuckle as they made their way to the garden. 

They managed to climb to the top, y/n being helped by Tom as they tried to get their breakfast intact as they pushed it up. 

Eventually, they were at their old treehouse, where there were too many memories for them to even remember. 

Their breakfast hadn’t really survived as the now soggy pancakes and waffles were crumbled up. They didn’t care anyway.

Tom had been brushing her hand for a while now as they peacefully and quietly ate. They were on the floor of the treehouse sitting right in front of each other. The food placed in front of them as they both ate from each other’s plate. 

“Are we gonna talk about it, though?” She asked as she pulled back her hand just as Tom had brushed it again. This was too nice for it to be real. She was only expecting Tom to pull any kind of stupid stunt he liked to pull.

Tom cleared his throat, glancing slightly at her. “What?”

“Your brother? going insane?” 

Tom laughed, “Ah you think it too?” 

“It is insane, he asked me about it like two weeks ago and—“

“You said no, right?” He frowned. 

“Yes I said no, I told him that he should wait—“

“Because he should!” Tom agreed. 

She looked down at the waffle with strawberries. “This is crazy.” 

Tom licked remaining syrup off his fingers. “Haz didn’t agree with me.”

“And Tim didn’t agree with me.” 

“Ugh,” Tom groaned.  “Timothee Chalkboard.” 

She only smiled, rolling her eyes. “Why do you hate him?”

“He’s dumb—“

“He’s not.”

“ and I can’t believe you are so smitten with him.”

“We’ve had this conversation before, Tom,” she rolled her eyes. 

He chuckled as he stared down at the food. “God but what do you see in him?” 

Y/n cleared her throat. “I am not dating him anymore, I’m not—”

He smirked. “Oh, so you are not into him.” 

“That’s not what I said,” she rolled her eyes. 

Tom scooted closer, as he poked her with a soggy bite of waffle. “Are you into someone else?” 

She groaned cleaning her cheek. “Hm no, not really,” she looked away. “But going back to your brother it’s crazy right?” 

“Super crazy like Harry you’re so-” 

“Young! Yes, and they’re not—”

“Ready!” Tom finished growling. “I mean they do love each other.” 

Y/n nodded. “But it feels off right?” 

Tom nodded in agreement as he smiled at her.  “Gosh, who are we? Agreeing on something?”

Y/n laughed. “Right?”

“We sleep together and we agree on things?” Tom squeezed his eyes. 

“Ha, maybe everyone was right,” she commented. 

“Huh, maybe they were,” Tom grinned. 

Because truly everyone was right. Even if they were stupid enough to admit it. 

“This place brings back so many memories,” Tom admitted as he looked around, it looked dusty and old and really forgotten. Some toys were there, boxes full of crayons. Stories waiting to be told. 

“Yeah, like the time you pushed me off and I broke my ankle,” y/n recalled. 

Tom laughed. “I’m sorry, I was an asshole.” 

“Was?” She questioned. “I’m probably being poisoned right now.” 

“Mmh,” he reached for her pancake. “I didn’t, see?” 

“You haven’t had any of my milkshake, could be here,” she pointed out as she took a sip. 

He grinned. “You figured my evil plan, killing you with milkshake.” 

She chuckled. “But so many memories, yes,” she looked around. “I think this is the place where we filmed amazing movies here, you remember?”

“I do,” he laughed. “But please we have more memories rather than only when children.” 

“I remember that one time when you were...17 I think and you got drunk and jumped off and landed on me,” she recalled again. 

“Shit, that was your... “ 

“Elbow, yep,” she laughed. “You really have a thing with breaking my bones, huh?” 

He smirked. “Yeah, almost broke your legs tonight.” 

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes. 

“No, but… Really, I’m sorry I was a real asshole to you all these years,” he apologized. 

“Oh, so this is what I needed? We had to have sex for you to finally realize what big of an asshole you were?” 

He gulped. “No, I knew it.” 

“That makes it worse,” she groaned as she rolled her eyes. 

“I know.” 

“But,” she chuckled. “All good now, you bought me a pancake so I can’t be mad at you,” she grinned as she took a bite. “That is until you come up with another type of bullshit.” 

“So pancakes now, huh? Not yellow flowers got it,” he smiled sadly. 

“Yes, pancakes,” she cleared her throat, as she then reached for her backpack, pulling out a Polaroid camera. “Wait, smile.” 

Tom watched her but then smiled at her, posing as he took a bite. And y/n snpped the picutre, as Tom leaned over to see it, and then y/n waited for the picture to dry out, she could feel him breathing against her neck, he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and she knew it when it finally revealed itself, so simple, a picutre of Tom biting on a waffle in the middle of the night. But she knew it, she’d give it a go.

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[angst-fairygodmother]

Light Fingers (The Umbrella Academy)

Diego’s vigilantism brings him repeatedly across the path of a young cat burglar. But as he finds himself developing feelings for the thief, he begins to wonder if there’s more to her than meets the eye, and whether they’re really on opposite sides. And as their relationship deepens, it brings with it a plot involving his estranged adopted father, and threatens to destroy all of them.

CHAPTER 13: DARKNESS FALLS

Word Count: 2362 Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader Rating: T Content Warnings: swearing, references to violence (canon-typical), heavy angst, sort of spoilers for TUA season 1? Cross-posted to AO3: here

Previous Chapter: Confrontation || Masterlist

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Two weeks after your visit to the Academy, and everything that followed, a headline caught your eye as you poured coffee for a couple at the diner. ‘Eccentric Billionaire Reginald Hargreeves Under Federal Investigation. Crimes include Smuggling, Arms Dealing, Fraud’ screamed out at you in bold black print and you barely managed not to scald yourself as your hand trembled.

Your mind was racing. It hadn’t seemed real, when you were making phone calls and “visiting old friends” and whispering in the right, or wrong, ears. It was a stab in the dark, that you never expected to amount to anything. But it seemed like someone, somewhere, had listened and moved on D.S. Umbrella and your father-in-law.

A bubble of elation built up in your chest. Unable to contain yourself, you yelled out that you were taking your 15, despite the earliness of the hour, and jogged down the street to pick up a copy of the morning paper for yourself. As you scanned the article, more snippets jumped out: “midnight raid,” “suspicious and hazardous materials,” “illegal within city limits.” They also mentioned looking into his accounts, heavy investigation into recent break-ins at the warehouse that authorities suspected were to cover up evidence, and a re-examination of the adoption records for his now infamous Academy of children. That last one made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t wanted to drag Diego or his family into any of this, and certainly not risk having his world flipped upside down. Still, there was hope nothing would come of that bit, and he would never have to be involved, and everything else was well worth it.

With a giddy giggle, relieved and stunned that things were going better than you could have hoped, you tucked the paper into your bag and returned to work, feeling lighter than you had in a while.

~

“This is insane,” Diego said, dropping onto the couch, head in his hands and the copy of the paper you’d brought home on the table in front of him.

“Is it?” you countered, sitting down on the far end and tucking your knees up to your chest. “We knew he was up to something…”

“But not this! Why would he raise us the way he did if he was a criminal?”

“Covering his tracks maybe? Or there’s something bigger here we haven’t put together.”

“You’re not even a little surprised by this,” there was something flat to his tone.

You shrugged, knowing that he knew you too well to deny it.

“What did you do?”

“Technically, nothing.” He fixed with you a firm, unamused expression that made you sigh. “I just talked to people. Gossip, anonymous tips, that sort of thing. I didn’t really think anyone would listen.”

His jaw clenched as he struggled to reign in his anger. “Who else did you talk to?”

“A few journalists, some law enforcement that Patch put me in touch with who wouldn’t ask too many questions, some folks in my line of work. That one clearly didn’t go anywhere, or we would have heard by now, especially if there’s an investigation too.”

“Thieves?”

“No waitstaff.” You rolled your eyes.

“What for?”

“I thought...I figured if some other crews went in, free looting, it would make it harder to figure out what we took, cover our tracks some.”

“That doesn’t make sense. He already knew we were there. Y/N, what aren’t you telling me?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s done now. I’m sure nothing will happen, the authorities are probably in his pocket, and if not...Prison for someone like your father isn’t even that bad. It’s a penthouse, just one with a 24/7 guard at the door.”

Diego looked annoyed but didn’t say anything else. You bit your lip, the silence tense over the two of you.

“I’m sorry, Diego. I just thought...it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

He grunted in acknowledgement. A moment later, he stood, silently getting ready for bed, despite the relatively early hour, and went to bed without a word. You waited, fighting back tears, still curled on the couch. You didn’t expect Diego to be thrilled the way you were that something was happening with Reginald, but you also hadn’t predicted this anger.

“Y/N,” he called softly, an indeterminate time later, making you jump. “Come to bed, sweetheart.”

~

Things in the household felt fragile after that, even the dog could sense that both you and Diego were tip-toeing on eggshells, waiting for the outcome of the investigation, like the Sword of Damocles.

And then it dropped, with a breaking news bulletin, one that made you almost grateful that Diego had a late night at the gym. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shuddering, as you watched an all too familiar building go up in smoke.

“No one knows what, if anything, was taken by the miscreants seen fleeing the warehouse shortly before the explosion, or why they chose to destroy the structure so definitively,” the news anchor said, the rest of her words blending into a drone in the back of your mind.

At some point, you fell asleep there on the couch, waiting for Diego to come home, startled awake in the morning when the door slammed shut.

“Diego?” you asked, frowning and rising to greet him. “Are you okay?”

He laughed bitterly, shaking off your hand on his arm and stepping away. “You’re really asking me that, Y/N? After everything you’ve done?”

“What are you talking about, Diego?”

“I’m not an idiot Y/N.”

“No but evidently I am, because I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about, baby.”

“Don’t,” he growled, shaking his head again. “D.S. Umbrella. Thieves, an explosion. You’re honestly trying to tell me you had nothing to do with it?”

“I didn’t! Not...directly!” you protested. “I promised you that I wouldn’t go after him, so I called in friends who could, who would.”

“How is that any different?”

“I...you said yourself that he was dangerous, and he proved that to me. And I got scared okay? I panicked, and when I saw a solution, I took it. Torch and burn, and salt the earth seemed like a good idea.”

“And Luther? Was he part of your plan or just an acceptable casualty?”

“What do you mean?” your frown shifted from one of upset to confusion.

“Pogo called, last night. Dad sent Luther to the warehouse had he got caught in your friends’ chemical explosion. He’s lucky to be alive.”

There was a slight hitch to his voice as he spoke, and you knew that despite the years of tension between them, hearing such news about his brother had shaken Diego badly. And you hadn’t been there for him. You reached out for his hand, to comfort him as you usually would before recoiling.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen. No one was supposed to get hurt.”

Diego scoffed in disbelief, nostrils flaring angrily. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because I don’t hate your brother, and I had no reason to want that. Because your father was the one who sent him in, alone and probably unprepared even though he knew better than anyone what hazards were in there. Because I’m your wife, and I wouldn’t lie to you, not when it mattered. Because I never wanted any of this, I just couldn't sit back and do nothing.”

“Why not? And give me a straight answer this time, Y/N.”

“While you and Luther were busy getting out all your boyhood aggression or whatever, I tried to find answers just like we planned. Only instead I ended up having a nice little chat with Reginald. And he said that everything was staged, that it was an audition. That I passed. And he threatened you, and he called the Academy a failed experiment.”

“You never said anything to me.”

“I didn’t know how,” your voice was sharp, pleading. “I have even less answers than I did when we started. All I have is that your father didn’t care about you, but he did about me, for something. He was willing to let you die to test what I could do. He was okay with the idea of hurting you to keep me in line. I...I had to protect you. So I did the only thing I could think of to do.”

“We’re s-supposed to be a team.” His eyes were still dry, but you could see the pain written across his features, and you closed your eyes against the sight.

“I know,” you said softly.

“W-w-we could have figured it out t-to-tog-gether if you had ta-lked to me…”

“We tried that Diego,” you wanted so badly to reach out for him. You hated that you couldn’t. Not now. “It had us spinning in circles.”

"So you just shut m-m-me out?" His lip quivered.

“Would you have done any differently?” you gave up on even trying to keep your own emotions out of your voice, tilting your head in question as you looked at your husband, the man you loved, and said words that you knew were breaking both your hearts. “Honestly?”

He was painfully silent, lips pressed together and eyes downcast as he considered your words, and what his answer would be. Rather than let the question continue to stew, you forged onward, almost afraid of what would happen if you didn’t.

“I’m truly sorry that Luther got hurt, and glad he’ll be okay. But I still stand by what I did. It was the right choice to make. If anything, it worked out better than I had hoped.”

“H-how could you say t-tha-that?” despite his stutter there was outrage in his voice now, raising the pitch to almost a shout.

“If it’s him or you, as far as I’m concerned, there’s no choice. I’m not sorry for that.” You shrugged. “And maybe almost losing his last loyal son will be enough to get your father to back off, to rethink, stop doing...whatever it is he’s doing.”

Diego’s body tensed and his eyes narrowed to a glare, the full fury and hatred locked inside suddenly directed at you. There was no trace of the pain in his voice now and it made your blood run cold.

“Luther’s an asshole, but he’s m-y family.”

“I know that, Diego. And I know how much family means to you. That wasn’t how I—”

“You know, you’re starting to sound a lot like my father.”

You stared at him, aghast.

“You’ve been just like him this whole time, haven’t you?”

“What?” you couldn’t keep the break and horror from your voice, didn’t want to.

“All this scheming and planning. Using the rest of us as puppets. It’s all about the so-called greater good. And screw anyone that gets in your way.”

“Diego, that’s not—” You tried to pull your emotions back into check but couldn’t. Hot, desperate tears pooled in your eyes before spilling down your cheeks.

‘Not what?’ you froze to ask yourself. ‘Not fair? Not true? Isn’t it though? Wasn’t he completely right, that you and Reginald were circling each other, playing a game with each other? Lay a trap, dance away from it. Steal a piece of information, change it’s meaning. Capture a bishop, sacrifice a knight. Move and counter-move. For months now.’

“I’m going to the gym tonight,” he said, making a dismissive gesture when you remained silent for too long. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He turned on his heel, throwing a few things in a duffle bag haphazardly.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” you said quietly as you watched him pack, rooted in your spot in the living room.

“Of course it was a mistake!”

“I don’t mean things with your father or D.S. Umbrella,” you took a deep, shuddery breath. “I...I mean us.”

“What?” his voice dropped, all the anger leeching away as he hesitated in the middle of folding one of his turtlenecks.

You took a shuddering breath, “None of this would have happened if we hadn’t gotten tangled up trying to pretend we fit together, in each other’s lives.”

“Y/N. Stop.” He shook his head, words clipped and forced. “Don’t say that.”

“Say what Diego? What we’re both thinking? I love you, so much. More than I can possibly say. But...I don’t think that’s enough. I was...we were better off alone. Everyone was.”

“That’s not t-true.” He took a step toward you and you took a step back. He looked like the world had just dropped out from under him.

“Tell me I’m wrong. Please?” you begged, voice and lip trembling. “If you can say that, after everything I’ve done, after all of this, I’ll believe you. But...don’t say if it’s not true.”

“That’s it?”

“I don’t know.”

Your gut gnawed at you, the still image of the burning warehouse catching in the corner of your eye. It felt like he was going to forgive you, even for a moment, for that, for Luther, and you couldn’t fathom that. And the more you spoke, the more you found yourself meaning the words. You loved him, and he loved you, and that could only hurt.

“I should go,” he said, half-heartedly, almost asking you to stop him.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

His keys rattled as he picked them up, and the door closing behind him seemed louder than you had ever imagined possible. It felt like one of his daggers was protruding from your chest. You couldn’t breathe.

“Diego, wait!” you called shakily, throwing open the door but not quite chasing him into the hallway.

He stopped but didn’t turn around. Silence hung like a wall between you. Your tongue felt like lead. What could you possibly say to undo what you had just done?

The minutes dragged on, the silence unbroken.

With a sigh you could almost imagine wafting back to flutter over you, he started to move again, and you stood there until his back disappeared. Only when he was truly gone, did you sink to the floor.

“Goodbye Diego,” you murmured, the words trailing off into a sob.

[newcaptainofsquad9]

The Shakespeare Substitute {1} Kim Taehyung x black! fem! reader(College AU)

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: When your Shakespeare professor happens to be absent for the week due to illness, a handsome, yet familiar man steps in to teach for him. This happens to be Kim Taehyung, an old friend of yours back in high school, and an old crush of yours. He can’t help but stare at you throughout class, leaving you an anxious mess until the fifty minute class period is over. 

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance, College AU, Smut(in later parts)

Word Count: 1, 973

Warnings: None for this chapter anyway

Author’s Note: I know, another series! This one will be short (at least three parts) I promise! I’m open for requests for BTS and EXO  hope you enjoy!

I did a double take on my phone as I blink back up at the doorway. It’s already 2:07 and Mr. Green hasn’t shown up for class yet. 

“Did he send an email?” I ask, turning over to my friends James and Stacy. 

James turns his nose up before running a hand through his mini fro. 

“Look woman,” he scolds, “I checked it four times, refreshed and everything-it’s nothing!” 

I frown at his tone. I can’t tell whether he’s being sarcastic or if there’s something upsetting him. 

“You good?” I ask, “can’t really tell if you’re joking or not.”

James sighs while pushing the glasses up on his face. 

“Sorry Y/N/N, I’m just a bit overwhelmed,” he says. 

I nod.

“Classes already getting the best of you?” Stacy counters. 

James shakes his head vigorously. 

“The classes aren’t the fucking problem,” he groans, “Valentines day is coming up and I’m trying to decide on the fucking venue for Cody and I to have dinner! Got it all planned out and everything.”

I deadpan at his words. Is he seriously this worked up over a God damn date?

“Are you for real?” I ask. 

James pops his neck at me. 

“Of course it is,” he growls, “I don’t expect you to understand Ms. I’ve never dated a guy in my life.”

Of course he exposes me like this. A few of the girls in the front rows turn, they look disinterested, yet I’d like to keep this in my enter circle of friends. This may be a university setting, however rumors still spread like a fucking plague. And here I thought the high school tendencies would cease, I had too much faith in humanity to even fathom that. 

“You want to tell the entire class,” I say, “keep your voice down.”

Stacy scoots her desk closer, a sly grin and a hand below her chin. 

“Is he for real, Y/N? You never had a boyfriend?” she asks. 

I open my mouth, then close it as James gives me a “yeah go ahead and lie, I’mma spill the tea anyway” look. I’d rather tell them something before Mr.Green arrives and class actually starts. 

“Technically no,” I explain, “I’ve never dated anyone, well there was this guy back in high school, but he was way outta my league.”

James rolls his eyes while Stacy gasps.

“Out of your league?” she exclaims, “he’s got to be a Greek God, because you’re gorgeous.”

I shake her complement off. 

“Thanks, but when I tell you he’s out of my league he is,” I say, “he was from Korea, and dressed like your typical international student: wearing Gucci and Chanel as if it were Nike for us.”

“I own a pair of Gucci slides,” Stacy says.

James chuckles. 

“That doesn’t count, you got rich ass grandparents!” he hisses.

“Anyway,” I say, “all the girls wanted him, those preppy white ones especially, no offense Stacy, but yeah-he was also a grade above me so..”

Stacy sips her latte in confusion. 

“That still doesn’t explain how he was technically almost your boyfriend?”she asks. 

And here I thought she’d forget. Curse James and his big mouth. 

“Yeah, about that, uh well, we kinda became friends over lunch and ah,” I pause, the memory hitting me extremely fast and abruptly. 

Taehyung with that boxy smile of his as it fell. My heart lurched as he rubbed my shoulder. 

“I-I’m going back to Korea,” he said. 

“S-So is it over? Did we even have anything?” 

I barely got to ask as Taehyung’s lips met mine. It lingered prior to him pulling back. 

“Yeah, we did, but I don’t want you to hurt if it doesn’t work while I’m away,” he said. 

“Um, Y/N,” Stacy says, breaking me from the painful memory. “she, good?”

James leans across his desk to take my hand. 

“I can tell the rest,” he reassures, “if you’d let me?”

I nod and inhale. 

“Ok, so!” James starts like the complete Drama King that he is. “this kigga had the nerve to admit his feelings for Y/N during prom while his date was making out with the Physics professor!”

“Physics professor?” Stacy asks. 

“It’s a long story,” I say, “he was like in his twenties, she was 19, but it was still weird.”

“Oh, so, did he like you or-”

“Aparently so,” I say, “like he could have told me that he was going away, uh, I don’t know a few weeks or months before graduation!”

James pats my hand. 

“It’s ok sweetie,” he says, “he’s out of your life now.”

“What’s his name?” Stacy asks.

“Kim Tae-”

My words are cut off as someone enters the room and it isn’t Mr. Green. Instead, taking Mr. Green’s usual spot behind the brown colored podium is someone more youthful, and taller. His hair is in unkempt, medium length and jet black, matching his black turtleneck, blazer and pants. 

I look to his face again as the breath gets knocked from me. Taehyung. I reach over and tap James’ arm, forcing him to break from his fixed glare on the familiar man that just walked in.

“James, James, snap out of it,” I urge. 

“W-What girl! Do you see this sexy man?” 

I try to answer but I’m interrupted. 

“Hello class!” he greets, “Mr. Green fell ill so I’m here to teach Shakespeare in his stead!”

A collection of groans fall throughout the class while I’m still in shock. How is he here? He’s a sub? How the fuck?

“Now, now, it’s nothing serious, he should be back next week, but I’ll ensure that your final lessons on Twelfth Night run smoothly-ah! How could I forget, my name’s Kim Taehyung, I’m your sub for the week, but you can call me Taehyung.” 

James’ smile drops as he turns to me. 

“Oh shit,” he says, “oh shit, Y/N!”

Stacy turns my way as I lean down into my seat. 

“W-What?” she whispers. 

James glances Taehyung’s way before at Stacy. 

“That’s Y/N’s almost ex,” he whispers. 

Stacy opens her mouth, then covers it. This is my life now apparently. 

“Taehyung!” 

A hand shoots up from the front, from here I can see the long strands of blonde hair. 

“Yes?” he asks. 

“Uh, h-how old are you, uh, I mean you look young enough to be a first year university student,” she teases, “I-I mean not to be rude or anything.”

James rolls his eyes. 

“Of course she fucking did,” he says. 

I shake my head and watch as Taehyung chuckles. 

“No, you weren’t, it’s a simple observation, I’m 24 and I’m currently working on my masters, thus being a substitute is great experience for it.” 

The class nods in appreciation while all of the women and some men in the classroom admire Taehyung. God, can this class period end any sooner. 

“But enough about me,” Taehyung says, “let’s go through roll.” He pulls out Mr. Green’s grading book, so he must know him personally, or at least got it through the school. My heart quickens as he goes down the line: James answers with an overly enthusiastic ‘here’  and Stacy with a sliver of one. My eyes go forward as Taehyung stops for a moment prior to calling my name.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N,” he says it as if I weren’t real, like he has a hard time believing I’d take a damn Shakespeare class. 

“Here,” I say and sink back down into my seat. 

Taehyung steps around the podium and our eyes meet. He wets his lips as if to say something, but I look away. I can feel his eyes lingering on me before he goes back to roll. 

“And, Jessica?”

The same blonde haired girl who asked Taehyung that question shot her hand up again. 

“Here,” she says rather softly, a little too softly for my liking. 

God, why am I caring? Taehyung and I were hardly dating, I shouldn’t care. 

“A-All right, so let’s pick up with Act IV scene one,” Taehyung says as he glances around the class as every pulls out their copies of Twelfth Night. 

He stares at me once more prior to moving over to the whiteboard to write out the characters names. 

“Ok, who’d like to read for the part of Olivia?”

Jessica’s hand shoots up again, of course. 

...

Fifty minutes manage to crawl by, leaving us finished with Twelfth Night. 

“That shit was sooo convenient,” Stacy groans as she tosses her bag over her shoulder. 

James nods.

“Right, like Viola was a dude the entire time and suddenly Orsino’s got feelings,” he says, “he’s got to be bi at least.”

Taehyung grins. 

“Thanks for being so cool about this guys! Start reading Hamlet for Wednesday!” he announces. 

Everyone floods to the door at once, of course Jessica flutters her eyes at him before leaving. James and Stacy push through next, I try to keep up, yet I drop my water bottle. 

Taehyung crouches down quicker than I can react, scooping my bottle up into his arms. Our eyes meet again, this time I hold his black eyes and notice the somber nature within them. He looked the same way during graduation, as if I was fragile, like I couldn’t handle what he was going to tell me. I didn’t at the time, but now I’m over it. 

“Y/N,” he says my name carefully. 

I glance back down at my water bottle in his hands. 

“Can we talk, please?” he asks. 

“Can I have my water bottle?” I counter. 

Taehyung glances back down at it, bites his lip and stares back at me. 

“Y/N, just five minutes of your time,” he says. 

“I-I don’t have that long, I-I got class,” I lie.

Taehyung smirks. 

“If you had a class next then why were you chatting it up when the period ended,” he teases. 

“For fucks sake, of course you were watching,” I groan. 

Taehyung moves to shut the door, leaving me to stare at him incredulously.

“C’mon, just hear me out,” he urges. 

“Ok, then,” I let out as I slump down on top of a desk, “let’s talk.”

Taehyung sits on the desk across from me, biting his lips again before running a hand through his dark locks. 

“God, it’s so crazy seeing you here,” he bellows, “I-I mean, how have you been?”

I shrug. 

“Living, classes are going ok, been to a few clubs on campus, nothing really life changing,” I answer simply. 

Taehyung shifts up from his desk. 

“Don’t be that way, can you look at me?”

I look his way and almost recoil at how close he is now, nearly hovering over me. 

“T-Taehyung-”

He leans down against my ear. 

“I missed you,” he admits, “I may have called it off, but I never forgot about you.”

Is he serious?

He pulls away and our faces are inches away, his smoldering eyes holding mine again. 

“Here,” he says handing me the water bottle back, “and this.”

Taehyung scurries back over to the podium, tears out a piece of paper and writes on it. 

“If you want to talk, here’s my number, “ he says, “if you want this to stay in the past, it’ll stay there. I’ll play the well behaved sub.”

His words bring a smile to my lips and I can’t help but make the connection.

“We only kissed once and now you want to be well behaved?”

Taehyung chuckles. 

“I wouldn’t jump the gun too far, Y/N,” he says, “does that mean we can talk, again?”

I bite my lip at how eager he is. I don’t think he’s ever showed me this much attention in the past. 

“Maybe, let me see how much time I got after homework,” I say. 

Taehyung grins, opening the door, allowing me to step out. 

My false sense of bravado disappears as I begin to panic. 

[srhlsx]

Rewritten & Reposted March 24, 2021

MASTER | Ch. 14 | CHAPTER 15 | Ch. 16

You guessed that you had about twenty minutes until the official start of your next game, the finals for the girls that would determine who was the number one seed going into the Spring tournament. It was exciting to be so close to your goal, a thrill that was filling you up with bubbles of excitement and good anxiety. 

You’d been playing in games all morning, your body thoroughly exhausted at this point but running on adrenaline now. The previous night you had talked with Bokuto about sticking around after your games were done to catch his, something he was very excited and proud about. But for now, you had one more game to get through - one more game and you’d be back on the national’s stage.

Abscently munching on a piece of fruit, you heard the familiar tone of your phone ringing from deep in the depths of your sports bag. You pushed around a few of the other bags in the pile to get to yours, recognizing the contact name right away and sliding the screen to unlock and answer the call. 

“Mmf-” You mumbled, swallowing your food before trying again. “Hi, Baba.”

“(y/n), dear,” The older woman answered, sounding like she was outside with the wind blowing into the speaker of her phone. “Sweetie, we’re on our way to you. Hiroto cut himself while trimming the bushes outside and needs to go get stitches. I’m going to need to drop Eiji and Yua off-”

“W-what?” You stuttered out, panicking only slightly as you started to look around for your warm-up jacket. Some of your teammates noticed your sudden frenzy and laughed as you hobbled all over the little area you had claimed as your own in the hall. “We have a game in twenty minutes-”

“Dear, I know this is terrible, but I can’t take them with me, Eiji is losing his mind. We’ll be outside the main entrance in five minutes!”

It was lucky timing that you were on a break between your games at the moment, but also terrible luck because what were you supposed to do with a ten-year-old and a three-year-old at a high school volleyball tournament?

You continued to panic as you ripped off your playing shoes and slipped into some athletic slides, zipping your tracksuit jacket all the way to your chin as you tried to politely push your way through the crowd of people. When you got out to the front entrance area, Eiji and Yua were just getting out of the car, a sympathetic look on the woman’s face as she waved to you. You looked behind her to the old man sitting in the passenger seat and he waved at you with both hands, one wrapped in an old beach towel that you could see a little bit of blood bleeding through. You cringed.

“Hey you two,” You smiled down to your siblings. Yua bounded right up to you and jumped into your arms, Eiji following behind with a backpack on his back and a slightly paled expression. Blood and injuries were not something your younger brother was known to handle well, so it really was for the best that they were not going to the hospital with the older couple. 

What am I supposed to do now?

Eiji you knew could handle himself if he were alone, being mature beyond his ten years. But you couldn’t expect him to watch Yua, especially since he loved watching volleyball more than anything in the world and his attention would be wholly devoted to you and your team. Your siblings didn’t usually make it to your games anymore, especially this year without someone to accompany them. Think… think… think…

“Hey, hey, hey!”

“Oh, thank the gods you answered!” You breathed out, shouldering open the doors to the building while holding your sister on your hip and pushing your brother in front of you. “Tell me you’re here.”

“Yeah we just sat down, gonna try and watch you guys before we-”

“Great, awesome, whatever.” You interrupted in a huff, climbing a set of stairs and grunting a little from being shoved around by the crowd of people. “Sorry, that was rude. Um, are you guys in the spectator section?”

“Uh, yeah? Are you okay?”

“Just fine, we’re coming to see you.”

“We-”

You rounded the corner as you hung up on Bokuto, seeing his full team in an empty section of seats. They all matched in their gear, white tracksuits with black and gold detailing. You might’ve been intimidated had you not been on a mission to find one person in particular as the warmup clock continued to count down. 

“(y/n)!” Your eyes locked on familiar, bright gold orbs and you made an immediate line straight for the boy. 

Bokuto swore that the look of relief that came across your face was like the heavens opening up and smiling down on him. He’d never had someone look at him the way you did in that moment, and he was prepared to ride that high for the rest of his natural life. The sudden change in the air was also noticed by his teammates, their gazes turning from the girl’s teams practicing below them to your frenzied state as you charged straight for them, two young children in tow. They also noticed the sudden palpable air of excitement radiating off their captain as he stood up to greet you - good, something to motivate him today.

“Can they sit with you guys?” You asked hurriedly, setting Yua down before she squirmed out of your hold and fell on her own. She beamed at Bokuto and practically ran up to him, luckily he wasn’t holding anything or it would’ve been dropped when he caught your sister and gave her a squeeze. Eiji did his best to casually wave at Bokuto, eyeing the rest of his team respectfully before leaning over the railing to look down below at your team warming up.

“Y-yeah, of course?” He answered, confused. He moved around in his seat to help your sister get a little more comfortable as she climbed all over his shoulders. “All good?”

“Fine, just-” You waved your hand dismissively, taking in a deep breath and letting out a laugh that was just shy of being maniacal. “Another day, another problem! I seriously owe you.”

“Oh, I’ll think of something!” Bokuto beamed. As you were turning away you felt him grab onto your wrist and pull you back. You whipped around to face him, only to be brought right into his lips for a short kiss. You pulled away with wide eyes, his face a smug expression as he grinned up at you. “Good luck!”

You said goodbye to your siblings, pressing a kiss to the top of both their heads (and one to Bokuto’s making you laugh since he looked up at you childishly) and warning Yua in particular to be good for your friends, she only giggled mischievously. You turned on your heels quickly and jogged back down the steps, then running through the gym doors on the main level to get to your team and join warmups. 

As you hobbled up to them, you unzipped your track jacket and clumsily shoved your shoes on your feet. Rumi teased you playfully, tugging on the top-knot of hair piled on your head and then shoving you into position for the current drill as the seconds ticked down as she teased you endlessly.

“Babysitting for your girlfriend?” A voice leaned in towards Bokuto, a smug tone to it. He looked over and saw Konoha eye the two children with alarm, unsure if Bokuto was really the best fit for this.

“Hardly!” Bokuto laughed a little nervously, eyes shifting around to your two siblings to see if they heard someone call you his girlfriend. He hadn’t gotten to that point yet and he hated to admit it was killing him a little bit - he liked you so much. “We’re best buds! Right, Yu-chan?”

Your sister laughed as she stood on Bokuto’s lap facing him, she held out her hands and of course Bokuto knew what she wanted since they’d had a regular habit of playing together when he would be at your home. 

He stood up, grabbing Yua’s hands tightly while she stood balancing against his legs. Her tiny feet climbed up his chest and eventually she flipped herself over and landed with a light thump on the seat in front of them - Bokuto’s hands still grasping hers. They repeated this fun over and over again, Yua never growing tired and laughing the entire time. Her small laughter filled the area and made his teammates watch in shock, was Bokuto actually good with kids?

“Bokuto-san, have you seen (y/n) play?” He looked up to see your brother still completely focused on the end of the warmups below, hands gripping the railing tightly as his eyes lit up with excitement.

“We played a little at camp this summer,” Bokuto half shrugged, pulling Yua up into his arms right side up so he could properly sit back down with her. “Caught the end of a practice match once.”

Bokuto knew that Eiji loved volleyball, they’d had many good discussions about the game when Bokuto was over at your place to hang out. But the look that lit up in his eyes as he watched his older sister below was one the Bokuto recognized well - he was a fanatic.

“But you’ve never seen her play a real game?” Eiji asked, finally looking back at Bokuto and his teammates. “You’ve never seen her take it seriously?”

“I think she probably takes practice pretty seriously,” Bokuto wasn’t one-hundred percent sure your brother knew exactly what he meant.

Eiji deadpanned, “No. She doesn’t.”

“You mean to tell me the two of you got your ahh… uh butts handed to you and she wasn’t even taking it seriously?” Konoha had a hysterical look on his face, like this fact was the funniest thing in the world.

“Well, I wasn’t taking it seriously either!” Bokuto tried covering up, clearly flustered.

“Bokuto-san, you made us practice line shots for another hour.” Akaashi deadpanned from behind.

At the new voice and attention, Yua’s eyes sparked up. “Neechan is number one!” She pumped her little fists and clapped her hands excitedly.

“Technically, she’s number three.” Konoha mumbled.

“Actually, that’s not true either.” Eiji spoke up, coming to your defense almost immediately as he rustled through the backpack at his feet. The magazine he pulled out was already folded back to a particular page as he climbed on top of a chair and stretched out to hand it up towards Konoha. “Here. It came out yesterday.”

Other members of the team leaned forward to study the page the magazine was open to, an article in the familiar Volleyball Quarterly- this one was about top liberos for girls across Japan. As all their eyes scanned the words they slowly started to bulge with shocked expressions.

On the page was a dramatic outline of three columns, each topped with a stock image of a particular girl’s volleyball player they were featuring. There was the second year from Sarukawa listed third, the third year from Tsubakihara in second, and then in the top spot was a picture of a familiar face. 

“Originally they weren’t going to rank her,” Your brother commented. “Since she isn’t playing after high school and all, but obviously they had to after Interhigh.”

Smiling brightly at the camera, your hair was slightly shorter since the picture itself was from a previous year and you’d been growing yours out. You wore the black libero uniform for Shinzen proudly, hands posed on your hips and looking every part the superstar. 

Konoha turned slowly to look at Bokuto with a bit of disbelief in his eyes. Bokuto simply continued to smile and sing along to the song your sister had been making up about you being number one. “Have you seen this?” Konoha asked. “Did you know?”

“Of course I knew.” Bokuto paused his singing but didn’t look away from Yua for a moment, “She’s my girl.”

*

[stargazing-dreamer-girl]

Wounded - Part 5

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Isaac Lahey x reader

Summary: You were having fun with your friends when you heard of hunters about to attack. You fought them with your pack, but something happens and you have to fight a fight in yourself.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This concludes my Wounded miniseries. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

@megafandomsxassemble

Previous Part

Help is here

It took longer than you had thought and hoped to find them. You had hoped to be reunited with them the same day you left or at least the next.

Derek and you followed trace after trace, hint after hint. You listened to the rumors and the gossip, going from town to town. You grew more impatient with every town you left behind.

Derek was sure that you were in the correct state. It was just the right town you still needed to find. You didn’t have any experience in tracing people, so you left all of that to Derek who was basically a master which just mad you feel useless. Sometimes you felt like you were nothing more than a burden to Derek.

He talked to some people while you stood next to the car, being able to jump right back in or intervene if necessary. You sat down in the passenger seat when he wordlessly got into the car.

“There is talk about a pack that is being taken out slowly a few towns over. Knowing Scott he’ll go there to help out. Our best chance for now.” He explained while backing the car out of its spot.

You agreed with him and just a few minutes later, you were there.

You left the car parked in a 24 hour supermarket parking lot to raise no suspicions as you continued on by foot. Finding people who didn’t want to be found is not that easy. And packs that are being hunted to death are no different. But, you had the advantage that hunters had already found them.

You felt bad thinking of it like this, but it was the only thing that would help you find your friends. And it’s not like you were just gonna let the other pack die. You would fight first, reunite second. Given that your pack would be there as well. Otherwise you and Derek would have to be back on the road without any leads which wasn’t what you wanted at all.

It had been too long for you without them. Without your Alpha. Without Stiles’ sarcasm. Without Lydia’s wits. Without Isaac.

You shook that thought away. Now wasn’t the time for this. There were lives at stake and you were intended on not letting anybody die.

It was weird, but in a way you couldn’t wait to fight again. You were kind of excited, if you were honest with yourself. All that time you had spent resting and getting better had been frustrating and going back now ready to fight and continue your adventure made your fingers tingle.

You heard the fight before you saw it. Grunts and gunshots and screams were coming from a street ahead around the corner. You looked at Derek who nodded before you carefully approached the corner. Looking around it you could see some werewolves fighting hunters.  The hunters seemed to have the upper hand. You counted ten of them. They were close to winning the fight. Your pack was nowhere to be seen. 

You quickly explained the situation you had in front of you to Derek. There was barely time to come up with a whole plan, so you would just head straight into battle. You at least had the surprise effect on your side.

On Derek’s signal you ran around the corner and shoved one of the hunters off a girl who was held down by him. You gave her a small smile before helping her up and attacking the hunter who had been on top of her. He was just getting back up when you kicked him in the ribs which sent him to the floor again. You gave him another kick in the head knocking him out. 

Before, you would have just left him there, but now, that didn’t feel safe anymore. You searched his pockets and found a bunch of zip ties, so you used them to secure his hands behind his back and tied his ankles together. His weapons were thrown to the side, out of his reach.

In your attempts to tie the guy up, you were interrupted from time to time by another hunter who threw some punches at you which you dodged as good as possible. Some of them did hit you, but you were not easy to go down and landed some punches of your own, before the hunter concentrated on others again. 

After you knocked out and secured two of the hunters you looked around and assessed the situation. Derek was in the middle of fighting two guys at once, but one of the pack members was on the way to help him out. Six of the ten hunters were unconscious on the ground, a few werewolves as well. The others were still engaging in their fights.

You noticed the girl you had saved before fighting a grim looking woman. Her fighting skills were pretty good, so it must have taken the hunter a lot to actually pin her down. You decided to help her again because whether she was a good fighter or not, it was always good to have help.

As the hunter toppled a few steps back, you were standing there kicking her feet out from under her. She got back up quickly and started to throw punches at you. The girl came up behind her and started attacking her as well. With you two working together it didn’t take long to overpower the woman and take her out.

The fighting all around you had died down.

“Thank you for the help!” The girl said to you. “I’m Zura. And this is my pack.” She pointed around her.

You gave her your name and introduced Derek too who was engaged in a conversation himself.

“We didn’t expect any help. How did you find us?” Zura wanted to know.

“We’ve heard rumors and came to help. My pack made it their mission to help those supernaturals in need against the hunters.” You explained.

“Where is your pack then?” Zura asked looking around questioningly.

You let out a sigh. They weren’t here, so you would have to keep looking for them. You grew frustrated about not being with them and not finding them.

“We’d hoped they’d be here. We had to separate because I had a pretty serious injury and needed to heal. But they’re not.”

You advised Zura to get her pack out of town. She was a young Alpha, just like Scott. She even reminded you of him in the way she spoke about her pack.

Zura thanked you again for the help and advice, before she tended to her pack members. As soon as she stepped away, Derek walked up to your side. He had a few visible bruises on his face, but they were already starting to heal.

“They’re not here, Derek!” The frustration grew bigger. You just wanted to be with them again. Your pack was your family and you didn’t like to be separated from them for so long, especially without knowing anything about their wellbeing.

“I know. But we will find them. I doubt they’re gonna be far. We just need to gather some new information. I never thought they’d be that hard to find, given that Scott and Stiles are part of the pack.”

While Derek was talking you thought you had heard someone shouting your name, so you grabbed his arm to make him stop and listen.

“Did you hear that?” He looked at you in confusion. 

“What do you mea-“ But then you heard it again and apparently so did Derek. It was closer now and you were pretty sure you knew who that voice belonged to.

Just as you turned around you saw Isaac running around the corner. His eyes found you almost immediately. 

You let go of Derek’s arm and ran towards Isaac, a big smile on your face. When you reached him you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around his neck. He put his arms around your waist and squeezed tightly. All your worries disappeared into thin air and you felt… you felt like you were home.

“You found us!” He whispered into your ear and you could hear his smile.

“Well, technically, you found me.” You joked, slowly letting go of him, so you could look at his face. His eyes were glistening with tears, but so were yours. Your hands cradled his face softly and he leaned into your touch.

“I missed you!” You confessed in a quiet voice. 

“I missed you, too!” He answered. His voice was soft and so full of emotion that your heart skipped a beat.

Before you could say any more, you were jumped on by Kira and Lydia who also expressed how much they missed. It all ended in a group hug with the whole pack. Everyone was talking over each other.

You had missed this so much that tears started to spill from your eyes. You leaned into Isaac’s side contently, his arm around your waist while you listened to the girls catching you up on everything you had missed.

When you knew everything about their recent adventures, you grabbed Isaac’s hand and pulled him over to the other pack that had just watched on. You waved the rest of the pack with you and so you introduced them to Zura’s pack.

While everyone was getting to know each other and Scott talked to Derek and Zura, you were standing a bit off to the side with Isaac. 

You looked at your pack with a smile on your face, before you turned to Isaac.

“I didn’t get a chance to say it before, but I love you, too!” You finally told him.

He just grinned and pulled you into a kiss.

The End.

[scmyr]

luka sabbat. cis male. he/him. ／  samyr delcine just pulled up james joint by rihanna  — that song is so them ! you know, for a(n) twenty-four (24) year old retired actor / singer and rapper, i’ve heard they’re really -temperamental, but that they make up for it by being so +creative. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say smoke filled recording studios, messy handwriting, tattoos. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( LJ, 20, est, they/them )

career claim: roddy ricch, dababy, the weeknd

hey y’all! guess who’s back at it again with a new muse? it’s LJ, @kcia​‘s mun, and this is my second baby, samyr. i’ve actually had this idea in mind for a while, and i’m finally bringing him into fruition. if you’d like to plot with him, just drop a like on this post! 

basics.

NAME: samyr delcine. PRONOUNS: he/him AGE: twenty-four. BIRTH DATE: july 16th, 1995. BIRTH PLACE: port-au-prince, haiti. HOMETOWN: compton, california. CURRENT RESIDENCE: los angeles, california. NATIONALITY: haitian-american. ETHNICITY: afro-haitian, unidentified white side. RELIGION: non practicing christian. OCCUPATION: singer, rapper, songwriter, producer, retired actor. LANGUAGES: haitian-creole (native), haitian-french (native), english (fluent). SEXUAL ORIENTATION: confused. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: confused.

visual.

FACECLAIM: luka sabbat. EYE COLOR: dark brown. HAIR COLOR: dark brown. HEIGHT: 6 feet, 1 inch. WEIGHT: 149 pounds. TATTOOS: here, here, here. PIERCINGS: ears. NOTABLE TRAITS: lips, height, hair.

background.

he was born in port-au-prince, haiti to a single mother. he never met his father because his father was someone that his mother hooked up with while she was studying in the states. it was her last year in college and she didn’t know she was pregnant until she was about three months along. she took a year off and went back home so she could have him. she considered putting him up for adoption, but as soon as he was born and she looked into his eyes, she “fell in love with him and couldn’t part from him”, or that’s what she always tells samyr. 

when he was six years old and his mother was twenty-seven, she decided to go back to school and get her degree. she spent the first six years of his life working two full time jobs and a part time job just so she could provide for him and save money at the same time. after she saved enough money, she packed up their things and moved them to america, california to be exact, so she could graduate and get a better paying job. she finished up her criminal justice degree and got a job working as a law clerk while she put herself through law school. she finally graduated, passed the bar exam, and now she’s a highly sought after criminal attorney in the states. 

his childhood was a hard, yet happy time for him. hard because he and his mother lived in california while his mother worked for a very low salary. it was difficult for them to make ends meet, especially when she was still in school. even though she eventually became an extremely wealthy lawyer (she started making money around the time samyr was fifteen, but by then he was already making money from his show), things were hard at first. he was still a happy kid though. his mother gave him a lot of love, and he had friends and a cute puppy named chichi (she’s still alive, with her old ass ;-;) 

samyr’s first taste of the spot light was at a young age. he did a little bit of modeling for stores and brands, but didn’t really get his big break until he was 12 and landed one of the lead roles of a children’s sitcom. he loved acting when he first started doing it, and worked hard for the several seasons that he was apart of the show before it ended. he was nineteen when the show ended. he did cameos on other shows, and acted in a few movies during the course of the show too. 

he’s a very passionate and dedicated person, but once he’s finished with something and wipes his hands clean of it, he’s finished indefinitely. he felt as though after several years of acting on one show and doing other acting jobs, that he was ready to bring to a close the chapter of acting in his life. he enjoyed it, still does, but he wanted to pour all of his time and effort into the next aspect of his life - music.

he had actually started getting into music around the middle of his show’s run. he had been in the industry for a while and started making friends with musicians who had introduced him to the art of music. he quickly fell in love with it, not just singing and rapping, but the technical aspects of the music industry as well - producing, sound mixing, composition, e.t.c. 

he released his first music project while he was still acting. it was in 2011, and it was a mixtape that he dropped out of the blue. people didn’t know who it was at first because he just dropped it on soundcloud and his account wasn’t under his own name. but some fans ended up doing some digging and made the connection.

after that, he would occasionally drop music projects here and there (i’ll eventually make a little timeline of his music releases, more so for my own means of keeping track, but to also give you guys an idea of what he’s released so far!) 

now he focuses primarily on music. overall, his sound and lyrics are explicit, but there are still two sides to him - the ‘hard’ side (dababy, roddy ricch) and his softer side (the weeknd). he likes having that kind of duality, because it gives him the freedom to explore himself as a musician. 

personality

he’s a very hard worker, and extremely prideful. he doesn’t like accepting help from others, especially if he thinks they’re pitying him. he and his mother used to get a lot of “offers” of help, which were honestly just people feeling sorry for them, which he absolutely hated. he doesn’t even like asking for help when he knows he needs it. if you ever catch him asking for help, you best believe it’s because it’s his very last resort. 

if samyr’s face and name weren’t connected to his music, no one would even think that he was the one rapping and singing on his tracks. a lot of his music has explicit sexual innuendos and undertones, and holds a little aggression from time to time. it’s a complete contrast to samyr’s lowkey personality. what most people don’t know is that writing music is his outlet. he doesn’t get frustrated or angry (most of the time) because when he feels those things, he channels it into his writing. 

that being said, he does have a little bit of a temper. it’s something that his mother says he gets from his grandfather, a man he had never met because he passed away before his birth. he has a high tolerance for things, but if he’s pushed over the edge, he gets black out angry. he hates that though, which is why he stays ‘medicated’ most of the time (lmao he stays high) 

he’s so deep in the closet that he’s finding christimas presents. he knows that there’s nothing wrong with being gay, he’s an avid supporter of the lgbtq+ on social media platforms and such, but it’s just something that he struggles to accept about himself. his mother is very open minded, but he has a lot of family members who aren’t, and he doesn’t want them to disown him. 

kinda gets angry/upset if his own sexuality is brought up? maybe not really angry or upset, but just really defensive? again, finding christmas presents lol

very particular with and protective of his hair lol has definitely smacked a few people’s hands for trying to touch it

wanted connections

girl(s) that he’s dated in the past to as a way to somehow force himself to be straight. most of them ended due to him not being able to fully invest himself emotionally. we can discuss if they’re on good/bad terms! 

a few best friends, he definitely needs those 

if anyone has a muse that has songs with a male rapper featured, samyr’s your guy

the first guy he’s ever kissed 

relatives on his father’s side (he just recently started searching for his father, so it’d be interesting if he had cousins or half siblings around!)

someone that he confides in about his sexuality 

a guy who helps him explore his sexuality 

pr relationship(s) 

pr friendship(s) 

media fueled rivalry 

enemies

frenemies 

celebrity friends that are always seen out together (events, award shows, sports games, out shopping, e.t.c) 

literally anything?? i’m open to anything and everything!

[39hystericalqueens]

It’s A Hard Life (Brian May x Reader) Chapter 1

This series was written alongside a companion playlist. Each song on the playlist is related to a certain scene or moment within the story and while this fic can 100% be read without the playlist, it adds so much to the story to listen along as you read. Throughout this series, you will see numbers in parentheses within the text. Each number corresponds to a track on the playlist. For example, if you saw: (1), this would mean play the first track on the playlist before continuing on reading. Some of the songs serve to set the mood, some correspond with a song that is actually playing in the story, and some tell part of the story better than I can and so they help to drive the plot. I will say again that you don’t need the playlist to understand and enjoy this fic but I strongly recommend at least checking it out. 

MASTERLIST

Chapter 1

Warnings: Some swearing

A/N: It’s finally here! The first chapter of my Brian May x Reader fic, It���s A Hard Life. I worked really hard on this so I hope you all enjoy! Additionally, I don’t have a taglist yet so if you like what you read please message me and I’ll be sure to tag you in all future installments. 

Word Count: 4.8k (she’s a long first chapter)

October 1969

*beep beep beep*

*beep beep beep*

It never ceased to amaze you how jarring the sound of your alarm clock could be. Loud and unrelenting, it was especially obnoxious this morning because it signaled one thing: the beginning of the week. Grudgingly, you rolled over to check the time. 

6:45 AM

Ugh. In an hour you’d have to be in class, and not just any class. Professor Wesham’s Intermediate Music Theory course was taught at 8am sharp every morning five days a week. Professor Wesham was a rather vile man with a love for discipline, trick questions, and embarrassing his students in front of the rest of the class. He had no interest in being a professor and mentioned that at any moment he saw fit. Rather, he believed that music theory was a subject that very few could teach correctly, and so it was his duty as a musician to impart those teachings upon young students, no matter how much he hated it. If you could have you would have dropped his class after the first week, but for a degree in music performance, all levels of theory were required.

You looked over at the clock again. 

7:02 AM

C’mon Y/N, gonna have to get up sooner or later. 

With quite a bit of effort, you finally pulled yourself up and out of bed and into the first pair of jeans you saw lying on the floor. 

(1)

____

“...so when we’re looking to find a mode of a scale we can look to the intervals for the answers. Each mode has its own unique combination of whole tones and semitones, so if you know the patterns you can accurately alter the scale…”

As expected, class that morning was hellish. A thirty-minute lecture on the basics of modes followed by another twenty minutes of history and you found yourself slowly drifting back to sleep. Your thoughts were soon taken over by memories of being curled up in bed this morning and fantasies of what you would be eating for lunch in a few hours. 

Maybe spaghetti? Or soup? I could really go for soup today. With luck they’ll have that creamy tomato one that I love down at the cafe...

“Miss Y/L/N?!” Professor Wesham’s voice rang out through the lecture hall  

Shit.

“Miss Y/L/N I asked you a question, but it appears as though you can’t be bothered to pay attention to what I’m saying this morning. Have you heard a word of what I’ve said?” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but nothing came out. 

“That’s what I thought. Can anyone else answer my question? Anyone at all? Or are you all just going to sit there and stare at me like a bunch of deadbeats?!” 

Silence filled the hall and for a moment it seemed as though he was about to give up and move on when suddenly he yelled,

“Susie! What is the C Mixolydian scale?”

From the back of the hall, a faint voice answered, 

“It’s the 5th mode of the F major scale, it follows the Mixolydian interval pattern of whole whole semi whole whole semi whole, and the notes are C D E F G A and B flat.” 

“Correct.”

And with that, he moved on forward with the lesson. 

I could have answered that, you thought to yourself, all the bastard needed to do was repeat himself.

You sighed and silently took notes for the rest of the period. 

When class let out you made a beeline for the door, hurrying out of the building and down towards the green commons in front. You didn’t stop walking until you saw the sign for The Cafe. Located right in the center of the music department, The Cafe was your go-to spot. Coffee and pastries in the mornings, sandwiches and soup for lunch, and full-on dinner seven nights a week. Although technically open to the general public, the music students at Ealing had claimed the place for themselves long ago, and you had never seen it empty in your entire time at the college. Today was no exception. You pushed your way in and headed straight for the counter to order. 

“One creamy tomato soup please,” you said to the woman at the counter, and with your table number in hand, you found a small booth in the corner and collapsed into it. 

It had been a particularly difficult week for you. The new term just started a few weeks ago and already your professors were piling on work. Theory worksheets, composition assignments, and three new solos had all been handed to you in the past few weeks, and it wouldn’t have been so bad if you didn’t also have a job that demanded long shifts late at night. You worked at Selmer’s, the music store in town and, due to your schedule, almost exclusively worked the night shifts from  6 until closing at midnight. It wasn’t a bad gig by any means, in fact you really liked working there. You never knew who would walk through the door. One moment it would be a broke uni student popping in to buy new guitar strings and the next it could be a famous musician like Pete Townshend. Okay so maybe not Pete Townshend, but you had once sold Jim McCarty a set of drumsticks. It was your one claim to fame. 

As you ate your soup you enjoyably became lost in your own thoughts, so much so that you didn’t notice when someone sat down across from you. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” 

The voice of your best friend Freddie interrupted your quiet contemplation. You loved him to death but sometimes he really had the worst timing. 

The story of how you two met was actually quite funny. It was back in September of last year, the beginning of your first year of uni. The night before classes were set to start you had gone to a party and somehow ended up right in the middle of a game of truth or dare, only the rules had been altered slightly so that anyone who chose truth also had to take a shot. Being the relatively shy person that you were, you hadn’t taken many dares and as a result found yourself to be rather drunk. 

“Alright c’mon Y/N,” said a guy named Greg (he was in your year and studying music as well) “you can’t pick truth forever.”

“Ok fine, dare”

“I dare you,” Greg continued, “to make out with Freddie.” He gestured to a man who appeared to be just as drunk as you were sitting across the circle. He laughed and said, 

“Whenever you’re ready darling, I’ll just be over here waiting.” With a roll of your eyes toward Greg, you had crawled your way across the circle, straddled Freddie’s lap, and started to viciously make out with him to the best of your abilities in your drunken state. 

The next morning you had woken up wickedly hungover and as you walked down the street to find something for breakfast you had bumped into none other than Freddie from the night before. He had laughed at the state of both of you (“we need to make sure that neither one of us ever drinks that much again!”) and offered to take you out to breakfast and the rest was history. It was definitely an odd way to start a friendship, but you two found that you just clicked together. His outspoken nature balanced out your tendencies to sink back into the shadows, and your level-headedness counteracted his love of making decisions on a whim. It really was, at least you two thought so, the perfect friendship. 

“Hello? Y/N? Is anyone home in there?” Freddie continued as you looked up from your food. 

“Hey Fred,” you said, coming to terms with the fact that your time for quiet contemplation was over. “What brings you down here? I thought you had a class way at the other end of campus this morning.” 

“I did. And then I decided that I was feeling a bit peckish and could go for a bowl of The Cafe’s famous tomato soup, even if it is all the way on the other side of school. But this worked out perfectly, me running into you here, because I have something important to tell you!” 

He dramatically reached his hands out and motioned for you to take them in yours. 

“You know I have been following this band called Smile around for ages.” 

You nodded.

“And you know I’ve been begging you to come out and see one of their shows with me” 

Once again you nodded. At least once a month (if not more) Freddie would try and drag you along to one of their shows despite your efforts to tell him that rock concerts really weren’t your thing. 

“Well recently I’ve started to hang around with them properly, them being the band, and we’ve become rather close. You and I both know Tim of course but it’s the other band members that I’ve really started to click with. We’re even talking about getting a flat together. They still won’t let me sing in the band, but that’s an issue for another day. What I need to tell you is that they’re playing a free gig tomorrow night right here at Ealing and you and I are both going!”

You opened your mouth to protest but Freddie kept talking. 

“And don’t even try to get out of this one. I know for a fact that on Tuesdays you only work until 7, and I also know that you don’t have plans afterward because yesterday on the phone you expressed to me just how boring your week was going to be. So unless within the last 24 hours you have made plans to go out late on a Tuesday night after work, you have no excuse not to go with me to this.” 

You stared back at him in disbelief. 

“Alright Fred, you got me fair and square. I will go with you tomorrow,”

“Excellent!” he exclaimed, “I’ll be at Selmer’s to pick you up from work at 7 PM sharp tomorrow. Oh, this is going to be so fun!” 

“Sounds like a plan,” and then you added, “And just because I’m going this time it doesn’t mean you’ll get me to go next time.” 

“Fair enough,” Freddie said, “but you’re going to have so much fun tomorrow night that I won’t even have to ask you to go with me again.” 

And with that he sprung up and made his way over to the counter to order some food, leaving you alone to wonder what on earth you had gotten yourself into. 

——

The store was surprisingly slow for a Tuesday evening. Two hours into your shift and only three people had come in, and all within ten minutes of each other. To kill time you had started reorganizing the reed display, but quickly lost interest and for the past hour and a half you had simply been sitting behind the counter, listening to the old rock n roll music that played in the background, and thinking about nothing in particular. 

(2) 

🎵Without her I will be in misery (oh oh oh)

In misery (ooh ooh ooh)

My misery (la la la la la la) 🎵 

As the song came to a close you heard the bell over the door jingle, alerting you that someone had just walked through the door. You craned your neck around the counter to see a guy with long dirty blond hair looking around frantically as though he had lost something. 

“Hi,” you said, “Welcome to Selmer’s, can I help you find anyth-“

“Guitar strings!” he nearly shouted, “I need guitar strings!” 

“Okay,” you said slowly, “do you have any idea as to which type of strings?” 

“Oh shit...uh, I don’t know. The normal kind I guess? I just need strings!” he once again looked around frantically, eyes finally settling on the clock on the wall behind you. “Shit! I’m so going to be late!” 

“Ok slow down a second,” you said calmly, “what’s all the hurry about? What, are you about to go onstage any second now?” You had meant it as a joke but to your surprise, he screamed, 

“Yes!” 

“Oh shit sorry I didn’t actually think you were- ok, um, so you don’t know the type of string but do you know what model the guitar is?”

“It’s uh...oh dammit I don’t know.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but what kind of guitarist doesn’t know the kind of guitar they play?” 

“I’m not the guitarist,” he said, “I’m the drummer. Our guitarist broke a string like ten minutes ago so I ran out to grab him more while he helped the rest of our band keep setting up.”

“Ah, I see,” you said. “Well since you don’t know which kinds of strings he uses I’ll just give you some Fender 12 gauges. They’re pretty standard, I’ve got a lot of people who use them so hopefully that should be ok.” 

“Yeah, those should be alright.”

You rang up the package and handed it to him. 

“Thank you so much, you just saved our show.”

“My pleasure,” you said as you handed him the strings, “I hope these will work out for you guys tonight, and if not, well then you didn’t buy them here.” 

He laughed at your comment. 

“You’re funny,” he said. “Normally I would stay around and chat, maybe ask for your number, but I do kind of have to be going or else my bandmates will have my head on a spike. But it was great to meet you…uh….”

“Y/N,” you answered his unspoken question. 

“Great to meet you Y/N, I’m Roger.” Is all he said before turning on his heel and sauntering out through the doorway. You could tell he was trying to maintain a cool, laid back composure despite having burst through your door in a panic not ten minutes prior. You laughed to yourself, wondering if you would ever see him again. 

Looking at the clock you saw that it was eight till 7. Freddie would be here any minute. You got right to work closing up the store for the night. You were right in the middle of locking the window display cases when once again you heard the bell over the door ring. 

“Hello darling I hope you’re ready for a concert!” Freddie’s melodious voice sang out. 

“Hey Fred, just give me two more minutes and I’ll be ready to go,” you replied. 

“I have been absolutely restless all day today thinking about tonight,” Freddie continued, “We are going to have so much fun!” 

He made his way over to the counter and leaned against it, facing your back. “I really think you’re going to like their music,” he continued, “they’ve got a very real sound, none of that formulaic clean-cut bullshit.”

“I told you, Freddie,” you said, turning around to face him, “I make no promises as to whether or not I’ll like them. But they do sound quite lovely from the way you describe them.” 

With that, you shut off all the lights, lock up the doors, and the two of you were on your way. 

____

The concert was being held in the student center at Ealing, right in the middle of the campus. On a normal day the large open room was typically used for fundraisers, game nights, and a variety of other student-run activities, but every now and then the school would allow bands to put on shows. As you walked through the door you were immediately overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people packed into the room. All the tables and chairs had been pushed to the sides making it so it was barely possible to sit down, though there were a few people who had managed to squeeze themselves into a seat. You were about to follow their lead, your eyes fixed on an empty table close to the back, but Freddie grabbed you by the arm and pulled you both up to the very front. 

“Do we really have to be this close, Fred? I can hear just as well from back there,” you said, gesturing towards the table you had so lovingly had your eye on. 

“Darling we’re seeing a rock concert, not the symphony, it’s not just about being able to hear them. Watching them play and being right up in the middle of things is all part of the experience.” 

You looked at him rather quizzically. 

“Alright, but if I get my ears blown out tonight it’s your fault.”

“That’s the spirit! Now I’m going to go and get us both something to drink. I’ll be right back.” 

As you watched your friend disappear into the crowd of students you turned to focus your attention on the stage in front of you.  They had taken the small stage that permanently stayed in the back of the student center and never usually saw anything more exciting than experimental theater pieces put on by the drama students, and had completely transformed it into something out of a whimsical fever dream. Brightly colored metallic fabrics had been draped over the dingy, dust-filled curtain that hung behind the stage. In the center of the stage sat a drum kit with a giant red-lipped smile on the bass drum. To the side, there were two guitars on stands, a pretty standard bass guitar, which you recognized as Tim’s, and a guitar which you had never seen the likes of before. It was a bright cherry red color with a black pickguard and it was oddly round in shape. You had been working at a well-stocked music store for nearly two years now and had never seen any guitar that remotely resembled it before. To top it all off you saw that they had covered the lights facing the stage with different colored translucent films, further adding to the whimsical ambiance. 

You know, this actually seems like it’s going to be a lot of fun. Dammit, Fred, why’d you have to be right. 

You shook your head to yourself and began to look around to see if you could see Freddie anywhere when suddenly everyone started clapping. 

The band was making its way onstage. On bass, there was Tim Staffell. He went to Ealing, studying graphic design, and was a good friend of Freddie’s. The three of you often went out together for drinks. You then looked over to see the man behind the drum kit and couldn’t believe what you saw. Sitting there was Roger, the guy you had sold guitar strings to mere hours ago. 

“Ha!” You said aloud.

“What’s so funny?” Interjected Freddie, who had just appeared next to you holding two beers. 

“I know the drummer,” you said. 

“You know Roger?”

“Yeah,” you continue, chuckling, “I sold him guitar strings a few hours ago. He was in a right panic about it. Apparently, their guitarist broke one earlier and didn’t have any extras on hand.”

“Brian didn’t have any extra strings on him? That must have really caused a panic, I don’t think Brian has ever forgotten anything in his entire life.” 

“I’m assuming Brian is the guitarist?”

“Yeah, and he’s bloody brilliant at it. There he is right there.” Freddie pointed to the man standing on the right of the stage. He was incredibly tall and lanky, with a head full of unruly curly brown hair and deep brown eyes. He was wearing black pinstriped trousers and a white top which he had accessorized with the most interesting looking fuzzy vest. He exuded the most peculiar combination of confidence and recluse, and as he stood there fiddling with his guitar you couldn’t help but think he was the most beautiful person you had ever seen. 

You turned to say something to Freddie, but before you could get any words out Tim had started talking into the microphone. 

“Hello Ealing!” He shouted. He was met with a resounding chorus of cheers and whoops from the crowd. “We are Smile!” More cheers. “You all know me, I’m Tim Staffell, over there on guitar we have Brian May, and back there on the drums is Roger Taylor. We’ve got a good set for you tonight, all originals except for a few, and we’re going to start with a song called Step On Me.” 

At once they struck up an upbeat tune and it didn’t take long for the audience to start dancing and singing along with them. 

(3)

🎵Know what I said when I saw you crying

Hang on that’s folly

I was weak in the head out to meet your lying

You’re just a bad memory 

My life was going to be better

My why did I never ever see she’d step on me🎵

As you listened to them sing you couldn’t help but nod and dance along with the rest of the audience. Fred was right again, they really did have a sound the likes of which you had never heard before. Not only were their harmonies perfectly in tune, but they had an almost angelic quality to them that pulled you in, wanting to hear more. 

“Well now look who’s actually having a good time,” Freddie said to you as they finished their first song. I knew you would like them. 

“They really are something else,” you said, “although I would probably like them even more if I weren’t surrounded by so many people right now.” 

Freddie laughed. 

“I guess I’ll have to talk to Tim about getting you a private show then.”  

They went from song to song, each one more enjoyable than the last, and while you tried to keep your attention from wavering, you kept finding yourself drawn to Brian the guitarist. Freddie hadn’t been lying when he said that Brian was bloody brilliant at what he did. You watched him easily play his way through several guitar solos, making them sound effortless, though with your musical knowledge (and by the look on his face) you could tell that they were anything but that. He played with a look of concentration on his face, never wavering except for the few times he looked up and out into the crowd. It was then, you noticed, that a small smile would cross his face. 

All too soon Tim was at the microphone again, announcing that this would be their last song. You felt as if you could continue to listen to their music for hours and wished to yourself that the show wasn’t over yet. 

“You all have been such a great crowd tonight,” Tim went on, “and so to finish we’re going to be bringing you everyone’s favorite: Doing Alright!” 

If you thought you had liked the songs they had played the rest of the night, then you loved this one. It started out with a slow ballad, complete with more complex guitar work, but as it went on it morphed into hard rock with grit and feeling. You thought the juxtaposition of the two styles was a daring choice seeing as it would be easy to mess up, but they did it with such grace and style so that it completely worked. When the song finally came to a close and the band took their bows you joined in with the thunderous applause and cheering. 

“Fred, I’ve got to say it: I really did enjoy myself tonight. It was a little loud and crowded for my liking but I think the music and the show were able to make up for it, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll come with you again.”

“Oh that’s wonderful darling! I knew tonight was going to be a success. But it’s not quite over yet.”

“No?”

“Of course not! You didn’t think you were going to get away without meeting the band, also known as my new friends. C’mon, they’re probably around somewhere outside packing up.”

You and Freddie fought your way through the crowds of students to get to the door and out into the night air. As Freddie had said, you found Tim and Roger sitting on the back of a van which you could see was full up of their equipment. Brian was nowhere in sight. 

“Freddie! So glad you could make it!” Exclaimed Roger, standing up. “And,” he turned to you, “I don’t believe it. Y/N from the music store, why on earth didn’t you tell me you were coming to the show tonight?” 

“Mostly because I had no idea this was your band,” you replied, laughing. “Freddie here has been after me to see and meet you guys for ages.” 

“And,” said Roger, “what do you think?”

“Coming from someone who doesn’t tend to enjoy rock concerts, I thought you guys were wonderful. I did not expect to enjoy myself tonight as much as I did. I think you’ve really got something special here.”

“You flatter us too much,” said Tim, “if you keep talking like that we’re all gonna get big heads. And Roger’s is big enough as is.”

“Hey!” said Roger, but he smiled. 

“So,” you continue, “Freddie said you guys are thinking about getting a flat together?”

“Yeah, Brian and I found this place up the road a little, Brian’s our guitarist by the way,” said Roger. 

At the mention of his name, you could feel your heart flutter slightly in your chest.

“Freddie mentioned him,” you said, “Did the strings end up working out for him?”

“I thought they were fine, but Bri gets particular about these things. I guess they were the wrong brand or gauge or something like that. He kept going on about how he was going to sound awful tonight and his sound was going to be too abrasive.”

“Well yes, different strings are going to give you different sounds and I don’t know what he usually uses, but you guys sounded just great to me.”

Part of you desperately wanted to ask where he was right now, but you decided against it. 

Against your better judgment, you had let Freddie convince you to stay around and talk with him, Tim, and Roger for a while longer. In that time you learned that Roger was studying to be a dentist at London Hospital Medical School, and Brian was over at the Imperial College studying, as Roger put it, “some sort of space physics.” 

“He’s real into all that,” Roger continued, “but I can’t say the same for myself. I get good marks and all that, professors think I have a lot of ‘promise’, whatever that means, but a dentist for the rest of my life? I’m not sure I could handle that. Nah, I’m hoping to stay in rock n roll for as long as I can. What about you? You’re over at Ealing with Fred and Tim, right? Are you another graphic design nerd like these guys?”

“No, music actually. Nothing like what you guys do,” you added, seeing Roger’s face light up, “classical repertoire mostly. I play the flute.”

“You any good?”

“I suppose that’s a matter of opinion. Personally, I tend to think I’m shit, but you ask any music student and they’ll tell you the same thing.”

“Oh don’t be like that, Y/N,” interjected Freddie, “she’s bloody marvelous. She can play you Bach like you’ve never heard before, although Roger I don’t think you have ever heard it before.”

“Oh come off it, I’ve heard my fair share of the classical stuff.”

“Yes, next time you go to the symphony be sure to refer to it as ‘the classical stuff’ I’m sure you won’t get any funny looks at all.”

You and Tim howled with laughter at Freddie’s comment while Roger gave him a good punch in the shoulder. 

“Dear god, look at the time,” you said a moment later after having glanced at your watch. “Is it really two thirty in the morning?!”

“I suppose it is,” said Tim, “sure hasn’t felt that long.”

“I’ve really got to be going then,” you said.

“Aw c’mon stay out for a little longer with us,” said Tim, “Fred and I hardly get to see you anymore.”

“I know, and I wish that I could, but I’ve got class at 8 tomorrow morning and I should at least try to get some sleep.”

“Oh alright go on, we know you’re right,” said Freddie, “I should probably be going myself, I am quite exhausted.”

“See ya later Fred,” said Roger, “great to see you again, Y/N. You should come round to the flat once we get it, we’d all love to see you again and you can meet Brian as well.”

The flutter was back. 

“I definitely will,” you replied before giving them all a wave and starting back to your own flat. 

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome (again) to the Order of the Phoenix, Beth!

You have been accepted for the role of EMMELINE VANCE with the requested age change! We really loved reading your portrayal for Emmeline! We especially enjoyed the details you brought in about her family and upbringing, along with the fact that healing doesn’t always equal warm, gentle, and empathetic. We love having you on the dash already and are excited to see you bring this introspective healer to life!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Beth

AGE: 24

TIMEZONE: CST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I feel like I’m literally always around on Discord right now, even if I’m not on the dash. I’ve been trying to do replies at least every other day currently. Given the current COVID situation and summer upcoming, my activity probably won’t change until mid-August.

ANYTHING ELSE: N/A

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Emmeline Vance

AGE: 25

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Emmeline is a ciswoman who uses She/Her pronouns. If she were bold enough to use a label, bisexual would probably fit best, but Emmeline isn’t particularly open about her sexuality and desires. She’s always had more important things to focus on and didn’t really find dating worth the fuss. She’s had a few partners here and there, usually men, but Emmeline has never been in what she considers a serious relationship.

BLOOD STATUS: Halfblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Ravenclaw

ANY CHANGES: I wrote her age up there as 25 instead of 27 because with all the characters right at the same age, I kind of like the idea of her being just under that, of being familiar with them from school but not actually in that group. This isn’t a sticking point or anything, and I don’t have a problem with her still being 27.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Emmeline, a mind so fine, never really expected to shine. Cheesy rhyme? Perhaps. One that would annoy her? Oh, definitely. Emmeline is a person of practicality as often as is possible. Learning new things brings her great joy, but it’s as much about how that information can be used as anything else. Most of the time, Emmeline keeps information to herself. She’d rather be sure than spread false information, and when rumors at the subject of conversation, she’d rather leave things to be spread for themselves.

She has always had a deep fascination with understanding how things work, and sometimes that has meant taking them apart to put them back together. That problem-solving occasionally takes on a singular focus, which didn’t always make Emmeline popular among her peers going up. Given the right situation, she can be a bit intense. A lifetime of trying to monitor that intensity often has Emmeline defaulting to her second instinct: silence. It’s easier to wait and see what others bring to a situation. It’s easier to understand their perspectives, information, and biases when she doesn’t cloud it with her own first. Sometimes Emmeline will then engage in conversation, but if she senses a potential argument that she can’t win anyway, Emmeline often won’t try. She’ll leave it at that, whatever it is.

Still, as much as she pretends to be able to understand the situation as a whole, Emmeline knows she has shortcomings. She often fails to realize how infrequently the whole picture is considered. That’s not to say she’s more objective than most people. She isn’t. She’s just more likely to dig until she thinks she has the most complete story possible. Then she’ll dig a little more just to be sure. It means she has a lot of useless information, but it also means she’s not likely to argue back when someone is wrong when Emmeline doesn’t for sure know if her conclusions are correct. Instead she sits there quietly and just knows the other person is wrong.

Most people seem to expect healers to be especially empathetic. Emmeline is not. She does try. She tries to put herself in other people’s perspectives, but she’s much better doing that from a knowledge perspective than from an emotional one. “If I didn’t know why my skin was blue and steaming, I would also react negatively to someone else not knowing the cause,” instead of a more empathetic viewpoint like, “They are afraid because they don’t understand what’s going on.” She needs a bit of the concrete and the observable. Although Emmeline doesn’t externalize many of her thoughts, she struggles when other people do the same because she isn’t good at reading the emotion within the silence. At work, that’s easy enough to handle because she can ask patients how they’re feeling and coworkers for more information. With the Order, that’s a little more challenging, especially if it’s a conversation Emmeline isn’t technically in, just present for. They seem to happen often. After all, Emmeline is so easy to overlook.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

Life isn’t easy in the magical world with a surname that hasn’t been around for the last hundred years or so. Margaret Baxter knew that better than anyone as the child of two muggleborns, but she certainly didn’t do any climbing by marrying a muggle named Allan Vance. She practically lived like a muggle too. It wasn’t until her daughter Emmeline was seven that she fully understood that some of her horticulturist mother’s prettiest and most exciting plants weren’t ones her classmates knew. Nor could any of their mother’s produce a couple drops of dittany to heal scrapes and bruises before giving the ever important kiss to finish making it better. Emmeline grew up in an almost entirely muggle household with little bits of magic that Maggie couldn’t live without. Emmeline had to learn early on which were which, and she needed to know which things couldn’t be mentioned to her friends. Her own magic was most likely to appear when she was trying to make things work. Allan walked into the room one day to find his favorite working model train floating through the air in pieces as Emmeline skipped between them, pausing every once in a while to inspect one. Maggie was able to put it back together, but under his breath, Allan would still occasionally complain that the steam puffed too realistically now.

Allan was a postal worker who believed quite firmly in the importance of hard work and dedication. Had he been a magical man, he likely would have been in Hufflepuff. While that work ethic was something Emmeline did inherit, she was always more like her mother, interested in understanding above all else. Maggie’s interests ended up in herbology. She had a gift for determining how to help plants flourish and cross-develop to create viable hybrids with helpful gifts. While Emmeline never shared her mother’s interest in plants, she embraced Maggie’s methodology toward problem-solving. It became an important step forward for Emmeline.

OCCUPATION: 

Emmeline knew from fourth year on that she wanted to be a Healer.

She’d always been good at charms and transfiguration, and in her pursuit of theoretical knowledge about human transfiguration longer before she was old enough to actually do it, Emmeline stumbled upon healing textbooks in the Hogwarts library. They were all well and good, but they couldn’t tell her as much as a real teacher. She went to Madame Pomphrey initially just to have a few questions answered, but the woman knew so much about a subject Emmeline hadn’t realized went so many layers deep. Madame Pomphrey saw her spark and encouraged it, suggesting to Emmeline’s other professors side projects which might be of interest to the young Vance girl. By her seventh year, Emmeline was helping Slughorn brew a few healing potions and fetching herbs from the greenhouses whenever Madame Pomphrey asked. That gave her a head start on some of her peers when she applied for St. Mungo’s Healer Program and, when coupled with her impressive NEWT results, looked quite remarkable to her mentors. Emmeline completed the program as fast as possible, happy to be able to lend a hand and make a difference.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Emmeline learned early on that a person’s value is on what they can achieve, but the magical world is full of people who look at pedigree instead. She’s not even first generation. Not second either. She’s got two generations of magic flowing through her veins, but it’s not about the magic itself; it’s about the heritage that can be used as a weapon. Emmeline is not stranger to this weapon, and she watched it slowly grow stronger around her during her time in training as a Healer. From the first whispers of a group defying Lord Voldemort and his followers, Emmeline knew that was a group she needed to find. At first she didn’t know how, and Emmeline continued on as normal. She couldn’t sit idle forever, though, and it took a few months of listening around corners and staying quiet in the backs of rooms before she’d connected the group to Hogwarts. She didn’t know what it was called or who was involved, but if it happened at Hogwarts, Emmeline knew Albus Dumbledore had to know.

After graduation, Emmeline had continued to meet Poppy Pomphrey for tea at least once a month as they transitioned from a true student mentorship to friends. It was at one such tea that Emmeline revealed what she had learned and insisted that she needed an audience with Dumbledore about it. Poppy agreed to set it up, and less than a week later, Emmeline was a member of the Order of the Phoenix and already working to create a hospital space at the recently acquired Potter Estate. She found it a bit unsettling that such a young wix could have this kind of shelter to casually provide, but Emmeline wasn’t about to question it. James seemed sincere and wasn’t pandering to other purebloods, so Emmeline took it for what it was.

While she could do some to fight, Emmeline very rarely saw battle directly. Most of the time she paced around the Potter Estate until people started arriving back. She’d been pushed to her limits helping the Order. Emmeline was good at her job, but she hated that she had to strain so often. It wasn’t on her own account either. People shouldn’t be put at risk as often as they were. Still, they weren’t doing enough. Too many people got hurt for too little and sometimes no reward. Emmeline couldn’t stand it, especially when she suspected egos and misinformation contributed so frequently. No one ever seemed to be thorough enough when they clarified the facts, and even if they were, they shared half-truths. Emmeline has grown tired of people trying to hold things back. This is a war, and people are dying. Now is not the time to try and seem smart by keeping things to oneself.

SURVIVAL:

Emmeline’s life looks pretty standard from the outside. She lives in a small two bedroom flat and uses the second as an office and storeroom for healing supplies. She remembers to eat regularly and works her shifts at St. Mungo’s with no complaint. She checks in at the Potter Estate about every other day, even if it just means reorganizing her supply of pain potions. She hears things and she absorbs the information, and that cycle had become a bit of a sticking point in her life. Emmeline is so afraid of not being there when someone needs her that she’s allowed basically everything else in her life to slip into the background.

It was easy for her friends and family members to believe that Emmeline was just throwing herself into her work, perhaps too easy. There’s no turning back now, though. Emmeline made a choice, and it’s one she intends to see through. Some days that just means getting through to the next one. She has no idea what the future holds, and at this point, Emmeline is almost afraid of what comes after because it’s easier unimaginable horror or unknowable potential.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Emmeline is perhaps one of the people devoting the most time to the Order, and much of that is in direct service to her fellow members. One might expect that to translate to having more close confidantes in the group, but Emmeline doesn’t take it personally. She’s never been the most popular person in a room. Plus, not being the center of attention has its advantages.

One of those advantages is that she isn’t expected to respond positively if pureblood Order members mention their supremacist families. She hates hearing about it, and that’s just one more reminder that some people in the Order have more to lose than others if Lord Voldemort wins. People like Alice Longbottom have a safety net, family who would assumedly welcome them back, if there’s anything to forgive at all.

She knows that distrust doesn’t breed strong teamwork, but even the people she has no reason to mistrust don’t always leave Emmeline particularly inspired. So many of the members rush to conclusions without the proper facts to back them up, and Marlene McKinnon seems to be one of the worst. That’s not fair, Emmeline knows. She doesn’t know the witch’s full situation, but when every incorrect thing out of her mouth is said with such confidence, it’s hard not to take it personally. Marlene isn’t alone in this unfortunate attitude, but she is perhaps the one Emmeline is stuck dealing with most often. Emmeline tends to stay curt and to the point before quickly slipping away to find someone else for better assistance.

When group meetings so often don’t actually say what they’re meant to say, Emmeline grows frustrated and bored in them. Lately she’s taken to watching others in the circle at such things, and of late, she’s found a kindred soul in Peter Pettigrew. She wishes more people were like them, watching and learning instead of just assuming. She thinks meetings could run more efficiently then. The whole Order could really.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: I have no specific hopes or desires for Emmeline. Romance is far from a primary motivator for her, so it would take good chemistry to start anything.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Emmeline would consider herself fairly open-minded, if only because she likes to take all the information available, find more, and then use it to come to a conclusion. She isn’t going to hop on any fearmongering broomstick over werewolves being isolated when all the research and Madame Pomphrey can tell her they’re incapable of causing any more damage than the average wix during most phases of the moon. That’s the logic that Emmeline applies to a lot of people problems.

That said, she really doesn’t have time for people who refuse to learn. The world is full of information, and one of the most important things about learning is the ability to acknowledge when your previous understanding was incorrect and move on. Emmeline’s not sure she’s ever met a pureblood who could truly do that. They loved to pretend they understand what the world is like, even when they’re talking about things they don’t understand. Most don’t know anything about the muggles they claim to be so much better than. It absolutely frustrates her because the knowledge is right there. Unlike wizards, muggles don’t try to hide what they have and pretend it’s much better. They don’t even have television for Morgana’s sake! Muggle technology and medicine could be readily available if wix just got over themselves long enough to see it.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? I told myself I wasn’t going to apply for a fourth. That said, I have the time, am enjoying the writing, and felt the call for someone to round out my little collection. I don’t have anyone as level-headed as Emmeline or who manages to carry their confidence without arrogance like she does. I’m excited for the possibilities she creates.

PLOT DROP IDEAS: I do think it would be interesting down the line for someone to challenge Emmeline on something she feels passionately about. Maybe the Order could get ahold of something cursed/semi-cursed that Emmeline strongly disagrees with keeping around because the risks to themselves are higher than the potential rewards as a weapon? Perhaps there’s a building rumor or huge miscommunication that she’s heard enough (indirectly) from everyone involved, but she can’t get people to just talk to each other because they just keep assuming they know the truth when they’re missing major pieces.

ANYTHING ELSE? I love you all! You keep me inspired, clearly.

[savetheblackpaladin]

Could you do headcanons on what you think the paladins might do to comfort a s/o who is pregnant and in a lot of pain due to cartilage softening in their body? Or just a s/o whos in a shit ton of pain either one works

Round 2 in the pregnant S/O series!! Let’s do both at the same time with an S/O about to pop!

Under the cut bc it’s long

Shiro:

listen, the moment he finds out your pregnant he’s educating himself on everything he can, so when the pelvic pain starts he knows exactly what to do

he’s still panicking of course, because his love is in pain and he hates that technically he’s responsible for it, so he’s gonna baby you, goddammit!

he likes to massage your muscles in your inner thighs, hips, and lower pelvic area to ease the tightness and pain in your pelvis

it’s rather intimate and he’s probably gonna get handsy

especially since his hands are already right there and your making such lovely noises

I feel like Shiro might have a slight pregnancy kink, so watch out

absolutely helps you with appropriate exercise to help strengthen your back and ease the lower pain

he has you walk with him around the castle twice a day

hip tilt exercises 

yoga

no butterfly poses for you

hunts down hot packs and hogs them all for you

“I don’t care how sore you are Keith. Y/n needs them more than you.”

“Ok but are you dying? No? Then you don’t need the hot packs.”

“Hot packs? What are those?” Listen, no one is getting them.

you are getting massages all the time

your feet hurt? massage

your back aches? massage

twinge your neck from sleeping wrong? massage

your spawn literally has a foot or something in your ribs? massage

would literally walk behind you and carry your growing belly if he could

he’s done it a couple of times because he just loves it

speaking of belly

kisses you and it every morning. 

gently rests his head against your belly, trying to hear the heartbeat of your child(ren). he gets kicked in the jaw. a lot.

he’s the one to rub cocoa butter all over your belly day and night

no one gets within a foot of you during pregnancy without Shiro nearly flying to get there to make sure nothing happens to you or anybody gets too close

he’s got an irrational fear that one accidental bump would cause a miscarriage

he’s watching like a hawk whenever anyone else touches your bump bc this baby is due any moment and it’s going to be perfect so don’t you dare ruin this

as your due date comes closer, the less Shiro lets you do because you need to be conserving your strength and resting

makes you a wonderful nest to rest in and fetches you everything

goes so far as to stop training altogether and is by your side as much as he can (24 hours the week you’re due)

knows better than to try and cook for you so unfortunately Hunk is dragged into the kitchen at odd hours

he’s so excited to be a dad but you are still his number one concern. he’s so passionate and caring it brings your hormonal butt to tears nearly every day

Lance:

as the youngest son he knows exactly what pregnancy entails and is 100% the best boyfriend you could ask for during this time

the moment the pain starts in your joints/pelvis his is freaking on it!

His sister used to float in the ocean to ease her pain so he brings you down to the pool and holds you up while you float, singing soft songs until you nearly fall asleep

if you do fall asleep he’ll gently wrap you up in a towel and carry you back to your room

when a pregnancy pillow couldn’t be found on the ship he made one for you from extra pillows

his number one concern is your comfort

you best believe this boy knows pregnancy yoga, he had to go with his sisters a couple of times when daddy was working

lower pack pain? you know he’s running to the kitchen to heat up a hot pack at 2 in the morning

“Just you wait baby, daddy’s gone be back real quick!”

“Sorry I took so long, mi cariño, but I also grabbed you some of that food you’ve been craving. Also I brought the massage oil for your feet!!”

“Yeah yeah, I know you just wanted the hot pack but I thought it would be nice to get you other things too. You deserve it.”

doesn’t panic when you hurt, just does his best to ease it

the boy can cook! So you best believe he’s gonna go with all your cravings. You need pickles and peanut butter? yeah sure. raw onion? he’ll try. Taco bell refried beans? well that’s a little harder but yeah sure.

your pregnancy glow has him shook

to him you look like a goddess and he wants you to feel like one

he’s always bathing with you so he can rub his concoctions into your hair and skin that will leave you even brighter

also the way you look carrying his child while the water slides over your skin? oh man, that gets a man hot under the collar

also your hair is really silky now? He can’t stop touching it!

when your feet swell he’s ready with a pillow to get them elevated and a bottle of massage oil

the way his face lights up when you enter a room nearly brings a tear to your eye, he’s so proud of you

legit would show you off in the middle of battle if he could

“You wanna see what a perfect person looks like? Here’s a picture of my Y/n.”

Wolf whistles when you walk out a room

won’t baby you to excess but he knows your limits and he’s there for you on rough days with kind words and soft hands

loves watching everyone coo over you

he’s from a big family so it’s only normal to have the entire ship adoring you

it makes him feel good

always has a hand on your belly when you cuddle, gently rubbing his hands on it

legit cries every time he feels the baby move

His calmness during your pregnancy goes out the window the week you’re due

he’s asking about contractions every hour and the moment they start he’s got a timer out and he’s keeping track. he’s so nervous he’s sweating constantly and he can’t stop bouncing his leg

his hair is so messed up from all the times he’s run a hand through it because holy shit he’s gonna be a father in a few days and he thought he was ready but turns out he’s absolutely not ready to take care of an infant

you’ll have to keep him calm, good luck

Keith

A Mess™

he’s a special mix of fiercely protective and absolutely terrified for the entirety of your pregnancy

when the pain starts his first thought is that maybe you’re dying

once he realizes that it’s just your body getting ready to give birth, the guilt sets in

he’s determined to make you feel better but he really doesn’t have a clue as to what he can do? But he knows a lot about relieving sore muscles

he’s also a hot pack hoarder and you will be constantly supplied with a fresh one the moment he believes it’s gone cold

massages the moment you wake up, massages before bed, the moment he sees a twinge of pain in your face you get a massage

badgers Coran into giving him some sort of pain relieving lotion he can rub on your sore back and joints (after he’s confirmed 12 times that it will be safe for baby)

warm baths when the pain is nearly too much where Keith will keep you company by washing your hair, pouring the warm water over the skin that isn’t quite in the water, soft kisses to your hands and nose

hunts down a hover chair for you and has you use it the moment your feet start swelling up

follows you around like a puppy, a very lost and confused puppy

doesn’t let anyone near you except for Allura, Pidge, and Shiro.

everyone’s pretty sure it’s some sort of Galra thing

when Lance gets too close, he growls from across the room and stomps over over put protective arms around you. (”Rude.”, Lance tells him every time. But it’s only bc Keith sees him a worthy rival)

Hunk is allowed to bring you food but only after Keith deems it worthy with a thorough inspection

With Coran, Keith is just convince he wants to like, perform experiments or something on you. Coran isn’t bothered with it since he knows what Galra males are like with their future young

Keith feels a fierce pride watching Allura and Pidge cooing over you. If he were a bird, he would preen. But he usually just puffs out his chest and holds his head high.

He’s iffy about Shiro being near you but since he’s going to be the godfather and is Keith’s mentor, he has a special place. He’s gonna be nearby though, watching with careful eyes. 

While still terrified of being a father, Keith loves putting his hands on your bump 

panicked when he first felt a kick but he put his hands back immediately and kind of laughed nervously as the kicking continued

talks to your bump at night, before bed. He wonders if baby will recognize his voice outside the womb

kisses you and bump before a mission for good luck

High-key thinks you are amazing to be able to go through pregnancy, especially as the due date comes closer

Ask Keith who’s the toughest on team voltron and he’ll say you every time

your glow? He loves it and he just wants you any way he can have you. it drives him up a wall. in a good way

when he learns exactly what happens to a body though pregnancy his eyes go super wide and he’s just in shock. Like you are doing all that??? HE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW CARTILAGE COULD SOFTEN WHAAAAA?????? YOU ARE AMAZING!!!!!!

the week you’re due he’s in full-on dad mode. something in his DNA just clicked and he’s excited/protective/and a little scary

absolutely no one is allowed to touch you unless you initiate first because he’s ready to rip an arm off 

he just wants you nice and safe in a nest of sorts, building your strength and safe from others

he’s by your side 24/7 with his hand in yours or on your lower back

only leaves you to get you things and he runs the entire way

doesn’t care if he’s being ridiculous because he needs to protect his mate and young

however he looses it the moment contractions start and screams for everyone to come help because he is scared

so so scared

he’s switching between pacing back and forth while Shiro and Lance try to calm him down and holding your hand

he’s crying because ofc it hurts you and this time, there is nothing he can do

can not wait for this to be over. does not want to go through this again

Hunk:

also ate up all related pregnancy literature he could find because he wants to be prepared  for everything

even reads up on other species just in case there’s similarities 

might have screamed when he learned that your stomach muscles literally separate late in pregnancy due to the pressure of the uterus expanding

scratch that. Definitely screamed.

engineers you a sling-type thing that supports your belly to help with the pain

as such you tend to have less lower back pain, even if you think you look a little silly

the moment the joint pain starts up he’s ready!

with warm comfort food. you are gonna be a well-fed pregnant person

found all the extra pillows in the castle and you must recline like a greek god before the pain gets too bad

snuggles with you and rubs whatever is sore. will do so for hours. 

the moment he wakes up he just looks at you for a few minutes, adoring your glow and peaceful face before gently resting a hand on your tummy

kisses!! so many kisses!!! your face!! your belly!! he’s enamored with you!!!

gives you puppy eyes every time you enter the room

when you start doing the pregnancy waddle his heart almost bursts

he’s so overcome with love he starts tearing up a bit

if you stay still long enough he’ll walk up behind you and just hold you under your belly, letting you lean against him

does all your pregnancy workouts with you and surprisingly won’t let you slack off

“Yeah I know you’re tired, but you’ll thank me later when you have the strength to pop out a literal human being.”

“That wasn’t 20 reps. Do it again. Wha–? No complaining you need the strength! C’mon Cupcake!”

So many compliments, like everything out of his mouth is a compliment

“You like glorious today, Cupcake.”

“I wish I could paint what you look like right now in this moment. And no. Selfies aren’t the same.”

“There’s my beautiful pregnant Cupcake, looking adorable as ever!”

“Have I told you how much I love you today? Because it wasn’t enough.”

As the due date draws closer Hunk is surprisingly calm

he knows he can’t panic right now because you need him to be strong

don’t worry, he’s panicking internally

His nerves got the best of him one day and he spent the entire week making a crib out of space junk

with a matching mobile

he’s now making baby toys in his spare time bc he might as well start spoiling this child now

Allura:

SHE IS CONCERN

humans are so squishy compared to alteans????

what does she do?????

WHAT IF YOUR BELLY EXPLODES DUE TO THE PRESSURE OF CARRYING A CHILD?????

you might have to convince her that you’re going to be fine. Humans are surprisingly sturdy when it comes to child carrying

Allura: “Sounds fake, but okay…”

when the lower back pain starts she’s like “Ohmygawd they’re going to die”

but she’s there for you, asking what she can do to help while she holds your hand

shows you Altean techniques to ease pain that are surprisingly helpful? Like pressure point stuff!

totally into aroma therapy so be prepared for her to be lighting incense type stuff that actually works and helps relax you and your muscles

Goes to Coran every ten minutes for advice. He helped raise her and had kids before so of course he knows what he’s doing, right? RIGHT?

shows you all her baby photos that Alfor kept on the ship, keeping you laughing with funny stories 

happens to find altean baby toys/clothes/crib/ etc and excitedly brings them to you when you’re too sore to move too much

doesn’t want you over reaching yourself and lets you have her hover chair from the comics

she may be a princess but you are her Queen/King and she will do anything you ask of her

lots of time is spent in the Altean pool so you can exercise without pressuring your sore joints and feet

she finds you the comfiest clothes to wear as you get bigger, loving how adorable you look in altean robes

I feel like Alteans are nuzzlers

likes to walk up behind you and nuzzle your hair before quickly kissing your ear (she thinks only yours are cute)

tucks you under her chin at night and wraps her arms around your belly, content to breathe your scent

super cuddly the farther along you get, until she’s pretty much latched to your side

she works out hella hard now because she’s got a child coming to protect too

you thought she was lethal before? now she’s outright deadly

sings altean lullabies to your bump at night before sometimes falling asleep on your chest

thinks your swollen feet are hilarious because that doesn’t happen to Alteans

but she’s willing to massage them for you

in between her giggles because they’re huge!!!!

also when your belly button pops out? HILARIOUS SHE’S CRYING WHAT ARE HUMANS?????

she’s got the crib set up next to your guy’s bed the week you’re due

she’s ready to do this!!!! BRING ON MOTHERHOOD

will carry you sometimes whether you want her to or not, she likes the heavy feel of her pregnant boo in her arms

in awe when the baby’s foot/arm can be seen stretching out your belly

“She’s reaching for her mommy!!!”

she’s convinced it’s a girl (she’s right)

“Who’s a good little baby floating in embryonic fluid? You are! You are!!”

Coran:

in the original Voltron he had a family once so Coran is already prepared!

although a little concerned with how a human body with hold up with a hybrid

he’s already figured out what to do if your body tries to reject the baby

you’re a little concerned about being potentially injected with anti bodies but he’ll thoroughly test it out with your blood first before the real deal

the chillest because he’s already gone through this once

has the pool on reserve at all times for pain-free floating

“Don’t worry love, I will hold your growing belly for you when you’re too tired!”

finds Altean maternity clothes that help support your body as it changes

totally has some pain-soothing/coco butter type altean cream to spoil your growing belly with

thought he was too old for this but seeing your belly swell with his child has filled him with energy befitting someone 100 years younger

he’s so bouncy and excited

he’s got an education plan already lined up and this kid isn’t even born yet

he’s dusting off his culinary skills because this poppa is gonna provide

warns you about the pain of softening cartilage like a month before it actually happens (another biological difference between alteans and humans) 

he was actually worried for a bit there that humans didn’t do that and he was concerned about the birthing process

huge sigh of relief when the pain did happen (you were a bit miffed)

“It just means everything is going according to plan! Now let’s get you comfortable. Maternity clothes help but they can only do so much!”

Doesn’t find the swollen feet as hilarious as Allura did, he was actually worried your body was having troubles

“Is--Are those supposed to do that?”

Once he’s convinced it is, in fact normal, he’s all about elevating them on pillows and gently massaging them until the swelling goes down

He’s fascinated by how the human body changes differently that the Altean and he thinks you’re amazing!

pokes where your muscles have separated on your belly

“And it just goes back? Without surgery??”

Appreciates your hips widening because mm, mm, daddy likes!

“Your what grows bigger???”

Mustaches tickle on your belly but Coran continues to pepper it with kisses every morning and night

Not a good singer. At all. Doesn’t stop him from trying to sing lullabies to your belly.

Doesn’t want to leave bed ever. He just wants to cradle you and his future baby all day long.

Absolutely cannot wait to be a dad again

[manawhaat]

Knight In Dark Flannel

Title: Knight In Dark Flannel

Characters: Claire x Dean, Sam, Mick, brief mentions of Cas. 

Summary: Dean can’t shake the anxiety, the thoughts of how this all could have been so much worse. Claire is in the same boat, and the two of them turn to each other for relief. 

Warnings: Spn s12 spoilers, slightly angsty feels, slight anxiety, smut of all kinds (Including unprotected. Don’t follow my bad example, wrap it up, kids.), virgin!Claire (mostly virgin), Sam hoarding stealing free food for Dean because they’re fucking adorable little vulture babies. 

Word Count: 5k

A/n: HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you to @mrswhozeewhatsis​ for being brilliant, thorough, and fucking wonderful as fuck, and to both her and @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid​ for taking the time to beta this fic. I also used the whole italic thing in this fic more than I think I ever have, so there’s that, and it’s also present tense, which was a bitch for my past tense self to write. 

** It’s set during 12x16 Ladies Drink Free, so if you’re not up to date, be warned that there will be spoilers. And if you aren’t into Claire and Dean fucking and you’re already all judgy, just scroll past this and don’t wast your (or my) time reading something you’re going to hate. If you do read this, thank you! (And let me know what you think <3) **

Dean had a daughter... at one point… she’s dead, now, but he is, technically, a father- a protector- and always has been, even before the age of six. He started with Sam, and the instinct to watch out for others has followed him through his life from person to person, never really giving him a choice in the matter when the flight or fight moments arise. Sure, he’s a rambler, but he never puts himself before anyone else, especially not anyone whom he’s come to love.

Silence surrounds the four as Baby holds Mick, Claire, and the Winchesters safe. It’s been one hell of a night and Dean’s eyes keep shooting back to where Sam and Claire are sitting in the back seat. At that douchewad werewolf’s house, she’d been able to take advantage of his running water and clean her up enough to not look conspicuous when they reach the hotel. As Dean keeps glancing back, she looks fine, normal, even, but that doesn’t change any of what he’s seen her go through tonight, or the concern he feels for her well being that he just can’t shake. It’s an itch under his skin that he just can’t scratch and it’s making him antsy. When the Impala is driven off by some young valet, Claire finally risks a look at Dean.

‘Poor, bastard,’ she thinks to herself, watching him try to shake off what she can only assume is agitation. She’s come to care way too much about him for her own damn good. Little does she know, he feels the same way about her.

“We’ll be adding a room for the young Miss, tonight,” Mick says kindly to the man at the front desk, and it’s his voice, so fucking British and out of place, that snaps her out of her daze.  

“Oh, I don’t need a whole extra room,” Claire interrupts in a rush, her voice effectively stopping the men and demanding their attention. “It might be nice to not be alone tonight.” She ignores the question in the back of her mind of why she doesn’t want to be alone. It’s because it’s been a long day and she was a werewolf for most of it, not because Dean’s still got that nervous, over-caffeinated look about him.

“You can bunk with me,” Sam smiles down at her.

God, Sam’s nice, but he’s not the kind of comfort she wants tonight. She wants quiet understanding and dumb jokes, not overly perceptive prodding and polite distance. “And have you steal all the conditioner? Sorry, Fabio,” Claire laughs a little, shifting her gaze between the brothers. “I can just crash on Dean’s couch. You said they were suites, right?”

As the words leave her mouth, Sam and Dean’s expressions are identical. The looks on their faces say, ‘What the fuck?’, but their parted mouths remain silent. Unphased by the request, Mick shoots Claire a curt smile and makes for the elevator, the two gawking men left behind when Claire rolls her eyes and follows after the Brit. A quiet thank you falls from her lips and Mick simply nods before entering his room, Sam smiling wide when she turns and thanks him, the two wrapping each other in their arms before Dean’s key card is snatched from his mildly shaky hands.

Alone in his room, Dean watches as Claire kicks around a bit before falling onto his bed with a dramatic huff. He’s not sure what her deal is, but he’s not letting it phase him; instead, he’s getting comfortable, taking off his 80 fucking layers and is down to his jeans and tee, bare feet on the hardwood that just feels so different from the shaggy, stained carpet in his usual kind of joint. The itch under his skin is ramped up, now, even though she’s safe in the same room, and he fumbles with his bag while he questions it. The whole time he’s been trying to avoid her, give her some space to think or whatever-the-fuck while he mills around the room, but when he turns and sees her sitting there with what look like tears in her eyes, he takes a step toward her. She’s usually so feisty, so hardened and filled with the same sass and sarcasm he holds, but here in this quiet room, after all that’s happened, she’s shooting up and pushing herself into his chest, holding onto him and burying her face in his shoulder when he wraps his arms around her and smooths his hands over her back.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, Claire. You’re okay. I got you. You’re safe,” Dean coos, thoughts running wild and worrying between every worst case scenario that’s crossed his mind about her in the last 24 hours. As he holds her, his brow furrows while his hands try to reassure him that she’s there, she’s whole, she’s human, she’s safe, she’s okay.

After what feels like hours, but was probably only seconds, she finally loosens her hold on him. It’s quiet, but she thanks him ‘for everything’ with a shy smile, and he simply nods before letting her go, grabbing his sweatpants, and heading into the bathroom. When he comes out, Claire’s changed, sitting at the edge of the king sized bed in a black tank and grey boxers. For a number of reasons, he winces before he decides he doesn’t even want to know where, or who, those came from. ‘Some dude’ would be her answer if he asked, though, Target would be the truth. For Dean, thinking about the boxers is safer than thinking about the thin, skimpy tank top, or how this is most he’s ever seen of Claire, well, ever.

The air is thicker, laced with tension that she’s radiating, so Dean shakes off his own thoughts, leans against the edge of the desk, and stares her down the way only Dean Winchester can. Claire’s looking at her hands, her feet, the door, anything but his green eyes, and she’s shifting as if she’s avoiding saying something.

“Are....are you gonna tell Cas?” she finally asks, her voice quiet and wavering like the remorseful child she’d swear she isn’t, and Dean smiles a bit.

“Probably.” He shrugs his shoulders and sniffs, putting on his best “disapproving authority figure” face.

“He’s not my dad, ya know,” she huffs, the look on her face telling him that she doesn’t want Cas worrying about her, hidden beneath a layer of lingering teenage rebellion, of course.

“I know,” he nods.

“Neither are you, Dean,” she says, voice laced with something. For his own sanity, Dean tries to ignore that something. She’s so young; too young, for that. Isn’t she?

“Doesn’t mean I don’t care,” he shrugs. “Doesn’t mean that this-” he gestures to her, between them- “whole thing, you hunting, everything that happened tonight…” Dean takes a long breath and lets his eyes fall closed before steeling himself and meeting her gaze. “Doesn’t mean that you don’t scare the shit outta me.”

“Teenage girl scaring the shit out of Dean Winchester?” Claire’s eyes sparkle as she laughs in spite of herself. She’s trying to keep up her facade, but Dean sees right through it.

“Yeah, Claire, you scare the shit out of me.” The weight of his words make her stiffen just a bit as Dean’s body pushes off the desk he’s leaning against. “Just like Sam does. Just like Cas does. Just like- like my mom, and-and Jody, and everyone else in my life that I can’t lose,” he explains, almost rambling. “You’re part of that. You-” he breaks mid-word to scrub a hand over his face, stepping closer and pacing a little right in front of her, trying to release a little of the anxiety that still clings to him from the events of the day.

Claire pushes herself to her feet and is reaching out for him, saying, “Hey, in case you didn’t notice, you didn’t lose me. I’m still here, old man,” and smiling softly when he stops and stares down at her. His eyes pin her in place, and she cranes her neck to hold his gaze. He’s so tall; she often forgets how big Dean is. 

“Damn right you are,” he sighs in relief, reaching out and cupping her face, laying a long kiss to her temple and wrapping his arms around as much of her as he can, holding her close.

Dean’s fingers get lost in her blonde hair, and her hands come up to hold onto his arms, feeling his thick muscles tense when he pulls back and catches those blue eyes of hers. There’s a moment of fear that passes through them both, thoughts of what could have happened, of how much agony she’d been in. Dean’s reliving it all, having to stop his brain from going back to that time when he had to step outside because he couldn’t handle seeing her in so much pain. When he stood outside, still able to hear her screams and grunts while tears threatened to overwhelm him at the thought of her dying so painfully. What would he tell Jody? What would he tell Cas? What would he tell himself when he looked in the mirror? Claire marvels at how revealing Dean’s eyes are, no less revealing than a movie screen with the events of the day playing right there in front of her. She squeezes his arms and he’s back, seeing her in front of him, whole and safe. Then, his lips are on her face once more; pressing across her cheek, over her nose and forehead, and with an acutely and decidedly conscious slant of her head, her lips are pressing against his. He tries to pull back, thinking it’s some kind of mistake, but her mouth follows his, keeping their lips to one another’s; soft, closed, until she parts her lips and lets his notch into hers.

It’s new. Odd. Wrong? But it feels so right. They have so much chemistry, so much likeness in them that when she stands on her tiptoes and presses her lips closer to his, Dean lets it happen instead of pulling away like that voice in his head tells him he should. In that moment, he is lost, and not sure he ever wants to be found.

The kiss is long, slow, with just a little push and pull and the faintest whimpers Dean’s ever heard being sighed into his mouth at the taste of his tongue and feel of his scruff. Each little sound sends a thrill up and down his spine and settles deep and warm in his belly. When they finally pull away, Claire tries and fails to hide her blush, grabbing his wrist and leading him to the bed. Her eyes plead with him, and he can’t say no. Not when she’s looking at him like that; not after everything that’s happened tonight. At that moment, he’d give her the world if she asked, and offer to strap it to Baby’s roof  and haul it around for her if she wanted.

When he’s settled in beneath the soft covers and the light’s turned off, she inches closer until he gets the hint and wraps her in his arms. Their chests are pressed together, hearts trying to match the other’s beat and failing with every shift of their bodies. They’re just hugging, his chin atop her head, legs loosely tangled, but It’s so exhilarating. As the shock wears off and they begin lulling into each other, she tilts her head and noses along his sharp jaw.

The action is enough to jumpstart their hearts again, and their skin on skin contact is almost like a live wire, shooting electricity through their bloodstream. She moves her arm from beneath his and smooths her hand up the cords of muscle, her chipped black fingernails pushing through his hair and gently pulling his lips back to hers.

Claire knows what to expect now. She knows how soft and warm and perfect he is when he kisses her. She knows how fucking full Dean’s lips are, how they slide against hers and how his tongue knows just how to press and flick and make her feel things she’s never even dared to dream of before. But Dean’s full of tricks, full of life and experience that comes with his age. He can keep her guessing and on her toes ‘till she’s thirty, but now’s not the time for any of that. Everything between them is too delicate, so he lets her lips slide against his, lets her hands hold him, and kisses her right back.  

Their mouths are unstoppable and before either can realize, the kiss turns heady, desperate, full of too much emotion on both ends for either of them to stop. Dean pushes against Claire ‘till she’s under him. She’s so fragile, so small, her fair skin smooth under his hands as he starts exploring, slipping his calloused fingers under the hem of her tank and up her stomach.

Dean knows he’s probably pushing some kind of boundary, so he stops, his breath fanning over her lips as he speaks. “If you’re uncomfortable or anything, Claire, you gotta tell me. I’ll stop, no problem. All you gotta do is ask.” His offer is earnest and she gets it, but she has no plans on stopping this now that it’s started.

“Don’t,” she pleads. “Don’t stop.” Her voice doesn’t hold an ounce of uncertainty, so, nodding her consent with her small hands guiding his, Dean continues.

On Dean’s journey over Claire’s body, she can’t stop writhing. She’s eager and almost anxious when they start pulling off each other’s clothes. Dean’s left in only his boxers and she can feel him hardening against her thigh as he sucks marks to her neck. He finds the spot on her shoulder that bore a monster’s bite just hours earlier and erases that memory by taking the skin into his own mouth and marking it for himself. Rough hands push her tank up and over her head, sending shivers down her spine. He works his way down her chest, eyes closed while he latches onto a nipple and sucks, swirling his tongue and revelling in the way she calls his name. The sound prompts him to pull away, flick his eyes up to hers, and reattach his mouth to the other nipple, watching her face contort as he teases her.

Peppering wet kisses and marks down her body, Dean is lying on his stomach, knocking her knees open around his broad shoulders and smoothing his hands up her thighs. His freckled hands swallow them before coming to rest on her hip and stomach while she props herself up on her elbows to watch, insecurity in her eyes and her messy blonde hair spilling over her shoulders and breasts. She knows what’s coming, but she needs to see Dean’s face when he does it; needs to see his face and all the comfort that it brings her as she enters this unknown territory with him; with Dean. The man’s been some kind of mentor for her from the time Cas took Jimmy from her life. Dean’s been there; teaching her how to hunt, showing her how accept her new family and life with Jody, and making her feel safe when no one else could. Trusting Dean with this, well, it’s the easiest thing she could do.  

Pleasure like she’s never known bursts through her when Dean’s mouth meets her core, the thin material of her panties not enough to keep out the wet heat of his tongue and mouth from seeping into her skin. With the way she’s looking right now, Dean can’t wait to get her panties off, see her spread open and taste her properly, so he doesn’t. The sound of fabric ripping is both exhilarating and shocking to her as Dean rips her panties at the side seams, smirking like the bastard he is and tossing the destroyed garment over his shoulder.

“Those were my favorite pair,” Claire huffs, poorly stifling a smile.

“I’ll buy you another pair,” Dean grins cockily, using his broad hands to push her thighs open. The smile curling Dean’s lips falters and he puckers, blows a long breath over her pussy and grips her thighs when a small hiss escapes her pink lips. “Goddamn,” Dean marvels, using his fingers to gently touch her, smoothing his fingertips over her lips and spreading them slowly, watching her expressions before swiping the pad of his thumb up her slit to spread her arousal up to her clit.

“Whoa,” she gasps, and hips buck involuntarily at the contact with her sensitive nub.

“I already told you, sweetheart, if this is too much, just tell me,” Dean offers again, laying kisses to her inner thighs, the look on her face making him feel like she’s hiding something.

“Fuck.” She’s conflicted, breathing heavily, and turning a light shade of pink with Dean, not some random guy from school or wherever-the-fuck, so close to her.

“What is it, baby girl?”

“Baby girl, huh?” Claire huffs in near annoyance. “Dean...I-” she stops before she can even start.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dean’s cooing, sliding up her body and taking her face in his hands. She won’t meet his eyes and he knows that whatever it is it’s big for her, hard for her to spit out.

“This is...I-” she stops mid sentence again. “I’ve never,” Claire finally gets out, voice quiet, cheeks red, eyes looking anywhere but Dean’s. “I mean, I’ve done stuff, but-”

“You’re a virgin...” Dean smiles and Claire forces her evading gaze to his face, shocked when she doesn’t find a drop of disappointment in his eyes. “That’s nothing to worry about, sweetheart. We all were at one point, this just tells me that this is that much more special for you...if you want to keep going, of course.”

Dean’s offer is clear and she regards him for a long moment, searching for any flicker in his reassuring eyes. They’re so fucking green, and he’s so soft, warm, understanding. It’s all so much it almost hurts, but she wants it, needs it, now more than ever; to feel connected to someone like this, and Dean is the best person she can think of to have her virginity.

‘Not like you’re saving it or anything,’ she’s thinking to herself, smirking a little before wrapping her arms around the man above her and pulling him in for a kiss that tells him everything he needs to know.

Now Dean’s kissing his way back down to the crux of her legs, lips ghosting over her pussy long enough for him to bask in the fact that he’s going to be the first person to truly worship and satisfy her before leaning in and settling his mouth over her. The first noise she lets out has him fighting his every desire to wreck her, make her cum in 2.5 seconds and fuck her into the mattress. However, it’s her first time; she was shy about admitting it, and Dean has zero plans of fucking this up for her. He’s all about pleasing his partners, and Claire is too special to him.

Dean takes care of her, shows her how gentle he can be, how good he can make her feel, what it’s like to have a man worship her body and draw the breath from her lungs in acute pleasure. He’s moving his mouth over her, tasting and sucking and gripping her hips when she cums for the first time. It’s the first orgasm that she hasn’t given herself, and it’s Dean’s to cherish, draw out, and work her through.

Claire is sucking in breaths like the air is vanishing from the room as she comes down, her blue eyes fluttering open to see Dean pushing his boxers off and stroking himself slowly. She’s never actually seen a dick in real life, and the sight of it has a heat flooding her lower belly. He’s thick, long, and she can’t resist reaching out to feel his skin, drawing back hesitantly when he hisses at the contact.

“It’s okay, Claire,” he rasps, looking down at her, and the way her name sounds coming out of his mouth has her own watering and her hand reaching back out, wrapping around him and moving experimentally. The way he grunts is a good enough sign that she’s not fucking it up, so she continues, pumping and spreading precum over his shaft and watching this man she’s known since she was a little girl rock and roll his hips toward her. It’s driving Dean wild the way she’s touching him, so inexperienced but such a natural, and she’s growing eager, yearning to feel him inside her.

“Okay, fuck-Claire, lay back, sweetheart,” Dean groans, moving her hand away from his length and stalking her up the bed.

“Should we use a condom?” she asks, feeling stupid as it comes out of her mouth.

“Probably,” Dean laughs a little, “I’ve got one in my bag,” he says.

It’s a quick thought that has her reaching out and stopping him before he can move off of her, saying, “It’s okay. I mean, you’re clean, this is my first time...you can pull out or I can take something tomorrow. I-I wanna feel you, Dean,” she admits, cheeks rosy for the millionth time tonight.

Her bold words are surprising, but if she’s okay with it, then Dean is, too.  “Claire, are you sure?” And there it is, her name on his lips, driving her wild and making her slam her mouth against his, her kiss giving him the answer he’s looking for.

The weight of his head at her entrance is new, hell, all of it is new, but with Dean, she’s ready for it. Their eyes are locked and he’s prepared to stop at any sign of uncertainty, but she knows what she wants, and she practically begs for it when Dean slowly starts pushing in.

Claire’s walls are hot around him, so fucking tight, and the way she’s breathing deep and licking her lips and digging her fingers into his skin tells him that she’s enjoying it so far. So, he pushes further, stopping when she winces slightly and continuing after she gives him the green light. Pressed together like this, Dean’s mind lands on the thought of Cas and what he’d say if he knew what was happening right now. He knows that Cas isn’t her father, but Jimmy was, and without him here, Cas is the closest thing to a dad that Claire has.

“Whatever you’re thinking, knock it off,” she huffs under him, seeing the thought on his face and pushing it away, bringing him back into the moment. “Dean, move,” she begs, legs wriggling in anticipation and a moan falling from her lips as he draws out.

Their movements happen so naturally, and before either can realise, Dean’s showing her how a man is supposed to treat a woman, what the meaning of ‘making love’ is, and she’s there for it; eyes screwed shut and hands digging into his skin, arching up into him and meeting him thrust for thrust. He’s making sure it’s all about her, that she’s being taken care of and that her first time isn’t just some split decision fuck. He wants the first kisses and touches to have meaning for her, and he’s happy he’s the one able to give that to her. It’s been a fucking emotional night, and a lot of feelings he didn’t realize he had are now hanging in the air between them as he presses and pulls and grinds his hips into hers.  

“Dean!” That unmistakable ‘almost there’ is laced in her voice when she cries out his name, and he’s quick to press his lips to hers.

“It’s okay, I’m right here, Claire. Go ahead, let it happen.”

Dean’s encouragement surrounds her and his efforts double. Claire’s fingers are going white as they dig into Dean’s arms, shoulders, back, and ass, her body covered in sweat and Dean’s breath on her lips when that pit in her stomach opens up and swallows her whole.

It’s like nothing she’s felt before when she cums, walls fluttering around the cock pushing in and out of her, body arching up and vision going black for a second while her world crumbles around her. She can hear Dean in the back of her head, past the sound of her blood rushing through her veins. He’s grunting her name, growling, ‘fuck, fuck, Claire, honey, I-’ before he starts cumming inside her. Dean makes an effort to pull out, but he’s already in her, and she wants to feel it all, so her hands pull at his hips and she lifts her own up off the bed to keep him inside her as he pulses and makes noises that only leave her wanting more.

As Dean fills her, continues to pump his hips into hers, Claire can feel the slick mixture of their arousals sopping out of her, spreading onto her lips and sliding down between her cheeks. Their breaths are ragged and Dean is slumping into her, groaning her name and letting his weight push her into the mattress as she claws at his back, writhing and moaning as her orgasm stretches into a second, smaller one. She shudders with pleasure as he pulls out, his fingers reaching between them to rub her clit in small circles and work her through it, wetness coating his fingertips as his cum slowly oozes out of her. It’s an odd feeling, but she can get past it as she comes down with Dean pressing kisses to her parted mouth.

The moment that’s hanging between them when their orgasms wear off is one of pure connectivity. They can’t tear their eyes off each other and their lips are like magnets as they bask in their afterglow, only breaking apart when Dean forces himself to pull away and grab a washcloth to clean up.

Once they’re settled back in the bed, with Dean’s arms wrapped around her again, Claire breaks her silence, quietly saying, “Dean?” He hums and she takes a breath. “Can we not tell anyone about this?” she asks.

Dean laughs a little and replies, “Duh,”, the two of them sharing a smile and kiss before falling into sleep.

Morning comes faster than it should, and they take it slow, showering together and leaving kisses on each other’s skin. And when they’re dressed and ready to head downstairs, Dean stops her with his hand around her wrist.

Bringing her hand up to his lips, he places a soft kiss to her knuckles, smiling down at the young woman before him. “Claire, I-”

“Stop,” she cuts him off. “Whatever you’re gonna say, just...don’t.” She sighs and pushes a hand through her hair before continuing. “I don’t know what this is, what last night was,” she breathes out a laugh, “other than amazing…” and he’s beaming back down at her, “but let’s just leave it alone for now. Figure it out later,’ she suggests, and he agrees.

Dean can’t be chasing something with his best friend’s ‘daughter’, especially not right now, but he’s betting that he won’t be able to get her out of his head for a while to come. He’s smiling almost foolishly and she can’t help but roll her blue eyes before leaning in and kissing him good and long before grabbing her shit and making her way out of his room and to the elevator.

This place has a continental breakfast, and Claire is chuckling to herself as she sits at the small table with Mick and Sam, tea and a scone in front of the Brit and a feast made of free food in front of Sam. Dean is nowhere to be found, but when Sam starts stashing bagels and donuts wrapped in napkins into his jacket pockets, she can only assume they’re for Dean to eat the road. When they eat their fill, the three make their way out front just in time for Baby to pull up to the valet entrance.

“Gassed and ready to go,” Dean affirms to Sam as he makes his way to the trio.

“Well, good luck, Claire,” Mick smiles, shaking her hand. Claire curtly thanks him before he takes his seat in Baby’s backseat.  

Turning to Sam and Dean, she can only think, ‘God, these assholes are like the big brothers I never asked for.’ But Dean, he can’t fill that space anymore, and she’s okay with it.

Sam hugs her long and warm, as always, and Dean’s body is solid against hers when she wraps her arms around his shoulders, and she can’t help but breathe him in so she can have it as a lasting memory, at least until she sees him again. Dean does the same, holding her a second longer than he should if he doesn’t want Sam to get suspicious. Breaking away from her is about the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and thinking of her being out in the world, alone, hunting, scares the shit out of him. He has to let her go, though. He has to, whether he likes it or not.

She’s walking to her car, then, bags in hand when the sounds of boots nearing ring in her ears. When she turns, Dean’s jogging toward her, brown bag in hand.

“Something for the road,” he says, dumbly amused with his choice of words. Claire chuckles when she opens the bag and finds a box of ‘Plan B’, a couple of candy bars, and a small wad of money.

“You’re so old,” she giggles. “Thanks,” she smiles, stepping forward and kissing his cheek while the others aren’t looking.

Dean shoots a wink down at her and it has her heart constricting in her chest, not wanting to leave. But she has to, so she tosses her bags in the back and plops down into the driver’s seat, pulling out of the parking lot with green eyes in her rear view, and god-knows-what in her future. Dean stands in the parking lot watching her car disappear into the distance, sending up a prayer to a God he hopes might listen, just this once, to keep her safe until she’s back under his protection again.

[i-like-your-genitalia]

all of 'em?

I love you, whoever you are anon! You cater to my need for attention 😂

1: Let’s start with a tricky one; what is the real reason you are confused right now?

Okay whether or not my sexual attraction to guys is because I’m actually attracted to them or it is because from birth I’ve been told that I need and have to be sexually attracted to them

Also taxes and mortgages

2: Do you ever get “good morning” texts from anyone?

Yes, my best friend and my girlfriend

3: If your significant other smoked pot, would you care?

Nah not really! As long as it wasn’t affecting their ability to function at work and with others and wasn’t costing us financially

4: Do you find it easy to trust? N/A

5: What were you doing at 11PM last night?

Rewatching criminal minds

6: You’re drunk and lost walking down the road; who is with you?

Probably my sister or one of my best friends lmao

7: What would you do if you found out you had been cheated on?

Fuck, I honestly don’t know. I’d like to say I’d go off! But I hate confrontation so I’d probably leave and never talk to them again

8: Are you close with your dad?

Yeah, we have our ups and downs but we are close!

9: I bet you kissed someone last night, right?

I wish I had been kissing @dysfunctionalgroup

10: What are you listening to?

Humble (ft Emma Sameth) by Crvde

11: You can only drink ONE liquid for the rest of your life - what is it?

Orange juice

12: Do you like hickeys?

Yes ahaha, but I think it’s a little tacky to have heaps of visible ones (like on your neck and they are excessive)

13: What time do you go to bed?

Anytime between 9pm to 2am

14: Is there someone who continuously lets you down? N/A

15: Can you text as quickly with one hand as you do both? N/A

16: Do you always answer your texts?N/A

17: Do you hate the person you fell the hardest for?

I don’t hate them but it flickers between neutral feelings and anger

18: When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends?

I’m talking to them right now

19: Is there someone that makes you happy every time you see them?

Yes

20: What was your last thought before you went to bed last night?

I am going regret going to sleep at 2 when I wake up

21: Is anyone else in the room with you?

Sadly no

22: Do you believe what goes around comes around?

Yes definitely, good vibes and do as you want to be done by

23: Were you happier four months ago than you are now?

In some ways yes, but also I’m not exactly unhappy right now!

24: Is there someone you wish you could fix things with? N/A

25: In the past week, have you cried? N/A

26: What colour is the shirt you are wearing?

Right now? I’m not wearing one, it’s way too hot!

27: Do people ever call you by your surname?

I don’t think i have ever been called it? Unless you count it in a professional setting? Like Ms —-?

28: Is anyone ignoring you right now?

Lmao probably?

29: Do you have a best friend? N/A

30: Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the last person you kissed?

Not particularly no!

31: Who was your last call/text message from?

My last call was from my sister telling me to come see her in her room! And last text message to one of my mates

32: Are you mad at anyone?

Yes one of sister friends! She treats her boyfriend like shit! He’s too good for her tbh

33: Have you ever kissed someone older than you?

Yeah Ahahaha

34: How old will the last person you kissed be on his/her next birthday?

Fuck idk????

35: How many more days until your birthday? N/A

36: Do you have any summer plans yet?

Work, sleep, eat, try not to be too anti social

37: Do you have any good friends of the opposite sex?

Used to! Turns out dudes can be bigger snakes and drama queens than girls

38: Are you keeping anything from your best friend(s) now?

Nah, honestly she probably knows too much about me

39: Do you have a secret that you’ve never told anyone?

Yeah, and I’m not gonna tell what it is

40: Have you ever regretted kissing someone?

Nah, not really

41: Do you think age matters in relationships?

Yes, don’t date someone who is underage, especially if the fact they are young is the main reason you want to date! As for older people, like a 25 yr old with like 50 yr old! Then whatever floats your boat!

42: Are you available?

I’m with someone, it is technically an open relationship! However I’m not actively looking for anyone else at the moment!

43: How many people have you had real, strong feelings for since high school ended?

Since I’ve been out of high school???? Probably 2?

44: If you had to get a piercing (not ears), what would you get?

I want a nipple piercing but I have inverted nipples so that not gonna really work out for me

45: Do you believe exes can be friends? N/A

46: Do you regret anything?

Not admitting my feelings to someone earlier and not being friends with my best friend earlier!!!

47: Honestly, what’s on your mind right now?

How bad my chafing is going to be tomorrow and what episode of criminal minds I’m up to!

48: Did you ever lose a best friend?

Yeah, I’ve lost a few sadly

49: Was your last kiss a mistake? N/A

50: Why aren’t you pursuing the person you like?

Well I am, but it’s very long distance, just over 12,000 miles. So we are together but also it’s difficult!

51: Has the last person you kissed ever seen you cry?

Nah!

52: Do you still talk with the person you LAST kissed?

Nope

53: What was the last thing you ate?

Burger and curly fries

54: Did you get any compliments today?

Yes but I’m always up for more 👌🏽💕

55: Where are you going on your next vacation?

Fingers crossed for Disneyland (France) or Barcelona but it’ll probably be the UK

56: Do you own anything from other countries?

Yeah Ahahaha

57: Are most of your friend guys or girls?

It used to be a good mix but at the moment it’s mostly girls

58: Where have you lived most of your life?

New Zealand 🇳🇿♥️

59: When was the last time you took a long drive?

New Zealand probably when I drove to Upper Hutt (which is is like a solid hour and a bit from where I lived and I was freaking out that I was gonna drive past it and have to drive all the way to Masterton)

60: Have you ever played Spin the Bottle?

Ahahah yes! It was so long ago

61: Have you ever TPd someone’s house?

Never, I kinda want to try it tho

62: Who do you text the most?

Probably my sister

63: What was the last movie you saw?

All the shrek movies

64: What’s preventing your current boyfriend/girlfriend from going back to their ex?

The fact they hate their ex and he’s a complete douche canoe

65: How many boyfriends/girlfriends did you have in 2011?

I don’t think I’d even had one at that point! I was like 13

66: Is the last person you kissed younger than you?

No but my first boyfriend was 😂

67: Do you curse around your parents?

No, but one day I’m going to slip up!

68: Are you happy with where you live?

I’d rather be back in New Zealand! But Spain is definitely an awesome place to say I’ve lived

69: Picture of yourself?

70: Are you a monogamous person or do you believe in open-ended relationships?

Okay, both! It’s all about what you are your partner are comfortable with! I’d be happy in a monogamous relationship and I’m happy with an open one! As long as boundaries and communication is clear!

71: Have you ever been dumped?

Yeah ahahahahah

72: What do you most like about making out?

Being close with someone, that they are your focus and you are theirs!

73: Have you ever casually made out with someone who you weren’t seriously involved with?

Yeah!

74: When you kiss someone for the first time, is it usually you who initiates it or the other?

Most of my kisses (which despite how it sounds have been fairly limited) are usually initiated by the other person

75: What part of a person’s body do you find most attractive? N/A

76: Who was the last person you talked to last night before you went to bed?

My girlfriend

77: Had sex with someone you knew less than an hour?

Nope!

78: Had sex with someone you didn’t know their name?

Nope!

79: What makes your heart flutter and brings a big cheesy smile to your face?

Compliments of any kind tbh, and thoughtful actions and words! Also food

80: Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already?

Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t be opposed too it

81: Has someone who had a crush on you ever confessed to you?

82: Do you tell a lot of people when you have a crush?

It all depends, the more serious the crush the less likely I am to tell people

83: Do you miss your last sweetie?

Yeah, but as a friends

84: Last time you slow danced with someone?

My girlfriend at the school ball! We weren’t dating then tho!

85: Have you ever ‘dated’ someone you’ve never met?

I wouldn’t say dated, but I’ve had a thing with someone I’d never met in real life

86: How can I win your heart?

Good food, compliments and pampering me

87: What is your astrological sign?

Leo 🦁

88: What were you doing last night at 12 AM?

Still watching criminal minds

89: Do you cook?

Yeah I actually quite like cooking

90: Have you ever gotten back in touch with an old flame after a time of more than 3 months of no communication?

Yeah, my first boyfriend! We broke up and it was alg! And even tho we lived close we never talked or caught up. But we went on holiday to the same place! So when I saw him the next year! We kinda settles back into how we were, when we were together 😂

91: If you’re single right now, do you wish you were in a relationship? N/A

92: Do you prefer to date various people or do you pretty much fall into monogamous relationships quickly?

I’ve only had 2-3 serious relationships but casually dated a few people!

93: What physical traits do you look for in a potential interest? N/A

94: Name four things that you wish you had!

MoneyMy girlfriend and best friend close byMy dream jobA house, that I wasn’t having to pay off

95: Are you a player?

Not purposely

96: Have you ever kissed 2 people in one day?

Not romantically or sexually! But probably in a platonic setting ????

97: Are you a tease?

Not intentionally

98: Ever meet anyone you met on Tumblr?

Sadly not yet! But fingers crossed I’ll get to see @geek-without-a-social-life and @lovely-babbi soon! 🤞🏽🤞🏽🤞🏽🤞🏽🤞🏽

99: Have you ever been deeply in love with someone? N/A

100: Anybody on Tumblr that you’d go on a date with?

@dysfunctionalgroup also all my amazing mutuals! If I wasn’t such a broke bitch! I’d fly and take each one of you on a date 😘😘😘

101: Hugs or Kisses? N/A

102: Are you too shy to ask someone out?

Only if the other person is more extroverted than me, if I’m the more extroverted one! I’d make the first move

103: The first thing you notice about the opposite sex?

How built their shoulders and arms are, then their face!

104: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you babe?

Yesss, I love pet names

105: If a sexy person was pursuing you, but you knew he/she was in relationship, would you go for it?

Depends on their relationship? If it was causal or open then alg? But if not! I’d not so kindly to fuck off and that if they are looking for attention elsewhere! At least be decent enough to break up with the other person

106: Do you flirt a lot?

Kinda, it’s more just too banter

107: Your last kiss?

I while I was clubbing! I met a guy I knew and we had a brief make out session!

108: Have you kissed more than 5 people since the start of 2012?

Nah it probably been max 4

109: Have you kissed anyone in the past month?

Lmao no one

110: If you could kiss anyone who would it be?

My girlfriend

111: Do you know who you’ll kiss next?

Hopefully someone hot

112: Does someone like you currently?

Yes my girlfriend and at least one other person

113: Do you currently have feelings for anyone?

Ya, my girlfriend

114: Do you like to be in serious relationships or just flings?

Serious relationships, but flings are still a good time!

115: Ever made out with just a friend?

Not that I can remember

116: Are you happier single or in a relationship?

They are different kinds of happy! So either way I’m content