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sirensmojo · 3 years

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"Depth Over Distance" Hubby! Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Angst & Fluff.

Summary: Tommy remembers the time he fell in love with you when he realizes that you are falling out of love with him.

A/N: It's Tommy's point of view all along. [it was supposed to be out yesterday but I fell asleep WAY TOO SOON and on my computer....]

PS: Inspired by "Keep your Head up" by Ben Howard.

*Masterlist*

*Arrow House*

The clock was ticking, it was the only sound that could be heard in the office, along with the smoke Tommy exhaled. His eyes were blankly staring at the void forward him, his vision blurred by his thoughts.

She was standing in the chair right in front of him but she wasn’t saying anything, she probably didn’t even notice he was standing near her.

She wouldn’t even look at him in the eyes anymore or even throw a single glance his way. He used to say he’ll not eat with Y/N when just coming home from the House Of Commons, but for several months she wasn’t even expecting him at all. When he would arrive late for dinner, he would rush to the dining room but found it empty.

No plates on the table, and no Y/N waiting for him. It was maids that would welcome him and tell him his wife took supper earlier before going to bed, using the excuse that “she had to wake up early”.

What was she doing early in the morning anyway?

Why was she out all day long? But most of all, why wasn't she looking at him anymore?

Y/N and Tom met during the war, she was a nurse in his department. Being a tunneler meant you weren’t going out often, but when you did, it was solely to put out the bodies of the dead or reach for help for those who were deeply wounded.

He remembers she used to always come to him to take care of his scars when he refused to let anyone touch him until all his soldiers would be taken care of.

She wasn’t saying anything when he would do so, but her eyes… Tommy remembers vividly the way she was looking at him, the aggressive burning fire that was animating her eyes and her stern look contrasting with the way her lids softly fluttered whenever he would catch her looking at him.

She used to panic a little before understanding it was his way to tell her she could take care of his wounds and scars.

Her touches were so soft and sweet, her skin was always smooth and cold. Not in a bad way, it was easing his own that was burning like hot coals.

Being under the ground in very tiny tunnels with all his soldiers, Tommy had to take on his shoulders an amount of pressure no one could ever even imagine, he had to give them orders and lead them to death from time to time. No errors would be acceptable, so he had to calculate everything for everyone.

The air down there was toxic, hot and tense. That’s why he loved Y/N’s skin being cold, it would remind him about the life above the ground, what fresh air felt like, and even if at the time he hadn’t had much space to think about that, she was bringing him hope.

A hope that would be killed as soon as he was back in the tunnels, but still. He could taste hope somehow, so it was better than nothing.

When returning home, he forgot about her for some time, but soon enough, the universe, destiny, or whatever, sent his angel back in the streets of small heath.

She was working in a bakery, and soon, Thomas was bringing bread everywhere he would go. Even in family meetings or the betting shop. Every occasion was an invitation to visit the woman that didn’t seem to recognize him… Or so he thought.

“Y/N! Give your Sergent Major what he needs and close the shop! We need you at the back!”

Her cheeks reddened.

“I’m coming!” Y/N responded by turning her head to the back door before slowly facing Tommy again. She was keeping her head down, but when she met the icy blue staring-eyes of the man she once knew in another time, she cleared her throat and gained composure again.

“So what do you want?”

“Huh?” He responded, aghast.

“What bread this time?” She answered back and he raised his brows.

“You remember me?” He will not order anything, but he wanted the truth.

“Who can forget what happened there.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement and the bitter tone of her voice alarmed him. Did he do something to her personally or was that tone about the war itself? Tom was confused.

He frowned and was staring at the woman in front of him.

“You heard my boss, I gotta close.” She let out before she walked around the counter to join him. She seemed to be aware he was going there only to see her, that’s why she didn’t wait any longer to put him out of the bakery shop.

Tommy, that was now out, under the rain, turned back to look at her through the windows, confusion filling his eyes.

She was aware of his scheme and she indeed kicked him out the shop.

Her attitude made him forget he was a peaky blinder and that he should be served like a fucking Prince. With her, he only felt like a simple man. Not that it was a bad thing, but since he returned his business was the only thing he could think about until he saw her again.

Now she became the key to this other dimension where Tommy Shelby was just Tommy Shelby, not the leader of a backstreet gang, not the head of the Shelby family, no. None of those things mattered or even existed in that dimension. It was just him, her, and the way she was looking at him.

Tom maybe didn’t know what to say that day, but he eventually came back the next day with only one purpose: She will not kick him out this time. This wasn’t too ambitious, or was it?

Because last time she made no effort to kick him out. Her Y/C/E eyes were enough for Tommy to be unable to say anything back.

But he wanted to believe this time will be different.

He pushed the heavy glass door and entered, no clients. He quickly glanced behind the counter but he was surprised to see a blonde girl. It wasn’t Y/N.

“Mr Shelby!” The woman began, a huge smile on her face, she surely knew about his position in this town. “What brings you here? Can I help you?”

But he glimpsed a form, in the tiny room at the back of the shop, and here she was, lifting huge bags of flour from the ground.

He turned back to the girl that was speaking to him and cleared his throat, “Give me my everyday order.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand… It’s my first time serving clients, I do not know what you usually take…” She seemed sorry and scared. So, she heard about what happened when the peaky blinders didn’t have what they wanted.

He got out a cig, lightening it up slowly before puffing on it and lifted his eyes back on the woman, “Well, bring someone who knows.” Was all he said.

“Y/N, please come!” The blondie girl ran to the back door.

“Is it something you do often, to frighten people?” Y/N asked, outright, when nearing the counter.

“Give me my everyday order.” He was looking deep into her eyes, and he could swear he saw her gritted her teeth as the muscle of her jaw tensed.

She grabbed a couple of pieces and wrapped them in fabric, shaking her head.

“Is it something you want to tell me?” He raised his brows, still smoking.

She handed him his order and exhaled, “I don’t understand why you chose that path. Haven’t you got enough with the killings?” She looked at him straight in the eyes, and he would swear she was looking into his soul.

Tommy didn’t say anything for a moment, his body stiffened. It was when his cigarettes burnt his knuckles that he blinked, grunting. He frowned and looked at the burning on his pale skin as the cigarette fell on the ground.

How did she do that? It was as if she understood him better than he did. And her words made him feel like he was cheating on himself.

She grabbed his hand in both of hers, which startled the man that looked up to her face.

It had been forever he hadn't seen her that close, her hair falling perfectly on each side of her face, framing her judging look. “Now you act like you don’t remember who you are, huh? Or maybe you truly forgot.”

Her words echoed in his mind but he was still desperately searching for their meaning. What was she saying?

“So, you hate me.” He concluded, not because that was what he thought but because it was his way of knowing what he truly wanted to know without directly asking her a question. He didn’t need her to think he cared what she thought, even if that was the case.

She put his knuckle in her mouth while frowning at him,” No, I don’t hate you, of course, no.” She was taken aback by his remark. As if it was the dumbest thing she'd ever heard.

“So, what is it? You always be looking at me with those eyes,” he pointed to her with his free hand. That’s when he realized his finger in her mouth, making him flutter his lids a couple times out of confusion, “like I did something wrong.” He concluded while staring at her mouth.

Y/N scoffed, “Stop speaking in the name of my eyes. It’s not my fault if you see your own conscience in them.” She said as letting go of his finger.

She pulled his arm, leading him in the tiny room at the back of the bakery shop. “Sit.” She motioned a dusty table and two chairs while she went away.

Tommy obeyed, patiently waiting for her.

He rewinds the time and hears her voice again, “It’s not my fault if you see your own conscience in them”, well. Maybe she was right. Maybe all of the things he thought he saw in her was in imagination, but here he was, about to have a full conversation with the woman that saw the real him.

“Give me your finger,” she let out while sitting right next to him. “I never hated you, Tommy. It’s who you become that I can’t stand. I thought you discovered your true self there, I guess I was wrong.”

“Don’t speak in my name. It’s not my fault if you see a version of me you want to see and not who I am.”

She lifted her gaze to his, “I saw you looking at your soldiers there. You felt powerless in front of their distress, and it seemed to burn you from the inside. I’m not lying.” She said, putting some kind of liquid on his burn.

“That’s why I become who I’m becoming.” He snapped back, staring at her movements, wincing of pain.

“To never be powerless…” She muttered utterly to herself, but he heard her, and noticed her nodding to herself, she was genuinely trying to understand him.

“And I saw you.” She tied a piece of tissue around his knuckle before exhaling deeply.

“Back then, yea” He completed before she could add anything as if to let her know he wasn’t the same anymore.

“It’s so depressing how you want everything out of life but not the life itself.” She smiled at him faintly, raising a hand to his cheek.

She fondled his skin and shamelessly brought her lips to his, kissing him softly.

Tommy was surprised but in a good way. Now he was sure about what he felt between them since the war.

He put a hand at the back of her head, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, his other hand she took care of cupped one of her cheeks, tenderly.

He couldn’t believe it was the same Y/N in his vivid memories that was ignoring him right now.

He wanted to say something, but the words refused to form in his mind, and his voice was tied in his throat.

He knew she never approved his business even if she never said anything, and he was pretty sure this was the reason he was forced to watch the spaces grow between them.

A heaviness settled on his chest, making him cough even harder than usual. He abruptly crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and clenched his jaw as he grabbed the paper Y/N was reading.

He wanted her attention, he wanted her to look at him the way she used to. He wanted to see his own conscience in her eyes, he needed his wife. And she wasn’t there anymore, or maybe it was him who wasn't there?

Maybe the fact he entered politics was the last straw that broke the camel’s back? It was love or business and he made a decision.

That last thought made sense and would explain why she didn’t even look at him after he grabbed the paper and just left the office without saying anything.

(...)

In the morning, as he just entered the Shelby Brother Company Limited’s office, he saw his wife, sitting in one of the two armchairs in front of his desk.

“Y/N.” His voice was full of expectations.

When he saw the suitcase near her legs, he realized what was bound to happen.

“Sit.” She spoke with a low voice. And that’s when he realized...

It was him who changed. She was still as calm as usual, her hair still perfectly framing her face by falling at each side of her head.

Her Y/C/E eyes that, for the first time in months, met his blue ones were still animated by the same burning fire that when he found her in the bakery shop.

She was the same.

He came and sat at his desk, taking advantage of the fact she didn’t refuse to look at him, to stare at her face, printing as many details as he could before she would vanish, because that’s what she’ll do. He knows it.

“You had been away.” He succeeded saying. He didn’t want her to go silent again or to ignore him, so he made a step towards her, hoping she would do the same.

Tommy didn’t speak the first words coming to his mind, he meant something while saying this.

He wasn’t talking about distance here, no. He was talking about depth, she had been far too in-depth for him to reach for her.

She seemed to understand the depth he meant because she quickly looked away, fleeing the judgment in his icy stern eyes.

“Keep your mind set in your ways. It’s who you are now.” She mutters, giving him a faint smile.

He knew a ‘but’ would be coming at some point, he was patiently waiting for the sentence to drop on his head, so she could finish him off as if her ignoring him didn’t already do enough damage.

“It’s the time we go separate ways, Tom. But it’s okay, cause I’ll always remember you the same….” She tilted her head to the side, closing her eyes abruptly. A couple of tears racing at the corners of her eyes, “Eyes like wildflowers… with your demons of change.”

So that was it, he was right, he was the one who let her down, the one who changed.

“May you find happiness there… May all our hopes all turn out right.” She concluded, finally opening back her eyes.

He closed his eyes at each of her sentences, they were like bullets to him. One hitting him deeper than the previous.

No tears were to be found in her eyes anymore, it was his Y/N right here, right there. The one that once saw him, but couldn’t see him now.

#Hubby! Tommy Shelby #Husband Tommy Shelby #Thomas Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x Reader #Peaky Blinders

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caranfindel · 4 years

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Recap/review 15.20: “Carry On”

I’ll warn you right now - I did not hate it.

THEN: Chuck loses. Jack is God. The Winchesters are finally free.

NOW: Friends, get ready for a whole lot of fan service in the next few minutes. It's like TPTB have been reading everything we say and giving us what we want.

As a song about "ordinary life" plays, Dean's retro alarm clock goes off at 8:00. He shuts it off and sits up so we can see he's wearing a henley shirt (fan service points: 1). As he stretches, he's greeted by Miracle the dog (fan service points: 2)! Who is apparently his dog and definitely not Sam's!

But it's okay because LOOK AT THEM.

Meanwhile, Sam is running (fan service points: 3) and enjoying the beautiful day. When he gets home, he cooks (fan service points: 4) the same dry scrambled eggs that Stevie made for Charlie. Dean wanders in, wearing the dead guy robe, just as two slices of toast pop out of the toaster. I am not giving the robe any points because I don't think it's anything we all publicly long for and get excited about when it comes up, but I am willing to consider any opposing arguments. Sam, wearing just a t-shirt (5 points), tells Dean "it's hot" and I say mmm, yes it is. Dean adorably burns his hands on the hot toast and then brushes his teeth. You know what, I think the robe deserves a point after all. We're up to 6.

And we're not even two minutes into the episode.

And then they JUST KEEP COMING because Sam walks in, exposing his tattoo (7) because he's SHIRTLESS (8), scrubbing at his WET HAIR (9) with a towel, and I curse The Husband for deciding to watch with me because it means it would be kind of awkward to rewind and watch this a few more times. There's not even any dialog I can pretend I didn't catch.

I was NOT PREPARED FOR THIS.

He pulls on the grey v-neck t-shirt of sex (10) and proceeds to carefully make his bed. Dean, meanwhile, kind of sloppily throws his bed together and calls it done. Domestic Winchesters for 11 fan service points, please. Part of me feels like Dean's messy room is OOC, considering how proud he was to have his own room in the first place. But then I have to consider the trunk of the Impala, especially when compared to the hyper-organized neatness of her trunk when Sam's all alone in Mystery Spot, and it feels right. (Why am I thinking about Sam being all alone in Mystery Spot? NO REASON, NO REASON AT ALL.)

Sam's hair in his face while he makes his bed? Yes, please (12 points).

Dean washes the breakfast dishes (13), sneaking some leftover (because they were nasty) eggs to Miracle and looking around to make sure Sam doesn't see, because obviously Sam's going to be the one who doesn't want the dog to get table scraps. Sam put on a plaid shirt earlier, but we see him in the laundry room back down to one v-neck t-shirt (thank you Jack). He's reading as his laundry tumbles in the dryer, and he has to kick the dryer once to stop it from making noise, which I guess is why he's in there babysitting it. I keep reading on Tumblr that people want "at least one laundry scene," as if that didn't exist in The Monster at the End of This Book, but here's your laundry scene, friends. You were right to want it; it is marvelous (14).

Just look at that collection of plaid shirts and tell me it doesn't make you happy.

Dean times himself assembling a gun, complete with plenty of hand closeups (15) and then sits in the library with Miracle, scratching his ears (Miracle's, not his own) and apparently looking for a case. Sam comes in and joins them. He hasn't found anything, but Dean gets a serious look on his face and says "I got something."

Spoiler alert: It is my heart.

Title card!

The Impala pulls to a stop and the guys get out, still with serious looks on their faces. Oddly, the episode title flashes on screen really quickly. Or maybe it's just me. "Sure you're ready for this?" says Sam. "Oh, I don't have a choice," answers Dean. "This is my destiny." And that is exactly how I felt about watching this episode, friends. Not ready, but no choice. The camera pans to show that the boys are at the 43rd Annual Akron Pie Fest. In Akron, Iowa? Just north of Sioux City? Five hour drive? Say hi to Jody and the girls while you're there? Probably not. Probably in Akron, Ohio, almost 16 hours away.

(NO ONE CARES. STOP IT.)

Give me a break. This might be the last time I ever get to calculate driving time.

Anyway. Just pies! Nothing serious! Whew, I was concerned for a second. Dean is emotional.

This is just so beautiful.

Are you crying?

What? No. You're crying, I'm not.

No one is crying. There is no reason for ANYONE to cry.

Sam sits on a bench and watches happy pie eating families (sob). Dean returns with a giant box with six slices of pie (16 points). He sits next to Sam, and they have this conversation:

What's wrong?

Nothing. I'm fine.

Nah, come on, I know that face. That's Sad!Sam face.

I'm not Sad!Sam. I just. I'm thinking about Cas, you know? Jack. If they could be here.

Yeah, I know, I think about them too. You know what, that pain's not gonna go away, right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is going to be for nothing.

Dean's right, Sam. Do not be sad. We will have no Sad!Sam tonight. Live your life, or else those sacrifices are wasted. (ahem.) Sam responds by pushing a slice of pumpkin pie into Dean's face. "I've wanted to do that for a very long time," he laughs. "You're right, I do feel better!" Dean scraping the pie off his face and eating it is pretty adorable.

I'd pay good money to lick that off his face. And not just because I love pumpkin pie.

Not quite 6 minutes in and we're up to at least 16 guaranteed bits of pure fan service. Just sweet, domestic Winchester brothers living their lives. How long has this been going on? I've decided it's been at least a year since the last episode. Maybe longer. A good long time. Lots of time for them to enjoy their newfound freedom. But right now things are getting dark. Because it's nighttime, and because I think somebody's about to die.

A mom sends two young brothers upstairs for bathtime. They pause when the doorbell rings. No one seems to be there, but then the dad is stabbed by people wearing creepy masks. The boys run into their room and hide. From their room, we hear the mom scream, and then a thump. One of the masked guys comes into the room and, after a fake-out when we think they might be safe, drags the boys out from under the bed.

So, domestic life in the bunker and then a hunt? Wow. We're getting it all. What a great episode, full of the things we love.

Is this Becky Rosen's living room?

Daytime. Agents Kripke and Singer (ugh, really? Kripke is good, but how about honoring someone other than the current regime?) show up at the scene. They learn that the dad's blood was drained, the mom is alive but her tongue was ripped out (wow), and the kids were taken. The mom drew a picture of the masks they wore, which the brothers recognize.

In a lovely, picturesque spot, the guys flip through John's journal. And I didn't realize we hadn't seen the journal in a while, but Tumblr informs me many of us were exicted to see it again, so boom. 17 points.

You know what this is? Mimes. Evil mimes.

Yeah. Or vampires.

VampMIMES. Son of a bitch!

Dean comes up with a silly portmanteau name for a monster? That will be 18 points. Sam determines the vamps will be heading for Canton if they follow their pattern, and the victims are families who live on the outskirts of town with children between the ages of five and ten. Well, that couldn't be too difficult to narrow down in a city with a population of over 70,000.

I'll handwave it. The lip biting. You’re welcome.

Night. Canton, I presume. Two masked vamps get out of a van. One of them gets decapitated by Dean. The other is shot in the leg, and then the head, by Sam. Well, he's a vampire, so of course it didn't kill him, but the bullet was soaked in dead man's blood. {Sidebar: "Soaked?" Dipped, maybe, but do you soak metal? Discuss.} They ask where the missing kids are, and the vamp is all, you're gonna let me go if I tell you? "No," Dean explains, adorably disappointed that the vamp isn't a mime after all. "This isn't a you walk out of here kind of situation. But see, if you tell us quick, you get this." He displays his bloody machete. "But if you take your time, you get, you get that." And "that" is a switchblade which Sam casually pops open right on cue.

Yeah, I'll take that. I'll take that itty bitty one.

It's a bad choice.

You see, this, this is quick. It's clean, you know? No muss, no fuss. You blink and you're dead.

But a blade this small, I'm gonna have to keep sawing and sawing to get your head off. And you'll feel it. Every muscle, tendon. Every inch. Could take hours.

Oh, and if those kids are dead? He's gonna use a spoon.

GUYS. I said it before and I’ll say it again. I absolutely love when they remind us that Sam Winchester, that sweet boy with the huge heart and the endless supply of empathy and the puppy dog eyes, I love it when they remind us that he is a fucking psycho when he needs to be. I'm not going to give it a point, because I don't think it's anything we've asked for, but again I'm willing to hear all arguments. Especially if they come with detailed examples of Sam going psycho. Just for evidence, you know.

Just casually talkin' bout torturing you to death. No big.

The vampire wisely decides to reveal the location of the nest where the kids are being held. Next we see the Impala pulling up in front of some kind of barn. The guys open the trunk to get their gear out, and Dean pulls out a throwing star. "Come on. One time." Sam says no. There will be plenty of other times for Dean to use his throwing stars, I'm sure.

The guys enter the barn and find it apparently empty, although we see masked vamps peeking at them from outside. They find the kids locked in a closet, but four vampires appear before they can escape. They shoo the boys outside and shoot the vampires with their dead man's blood bullets from a safe distance. No, they don't. Why? I got no goddamn idea.

{Sidebar: At some point during this fight, I realized they hadn't played "Carry On Wayward Son" at the beginning. And that we got a regular montage, not a season finale extended montage.}

Sam gets knocked unconscious, and Dean loses his machete and then gets pinned by a couple of vamps. But they don't kill him; they just hold him down while an unmasked vampire strolls in. Dean recognizes her from season 1, and pretends not to notice Sam's now-conscious hand surreptitiously creeping toward his machete. Suddenly the vampire loses her head, because Sam is behind her, and the fight starts up again. Dean gets thrown into a wall right next to a big metal spike, which we focus on oddly. And then he gets thrown onto the spike. Oops. Sam kills the last of the vamps and doesn't notice Dean's predicament. He's all, cool, fight's over, let's go get those kids out of here. "Sam," Dean says, "I don't think I'm going anywhere."

Dean tells Sam there's something stuck in his back and it "feels like it's right through me." He keeps touching his chest as if he expects to feel it poking through. Sam reaches around to touch his back and his hand comes back bloody, and if that gives you All Hell Breaks Loose feels, there's a good reason. Sam tries to pull Dean off the spike, but Dean stops him. "It feels like this thing's holding me together right now." Sam's starting to panic and so am I. He wants to go get the first aid kid and call for help, but Dean stops him. And y'all, I'm just gonna have to type the whole thing out.

Sam, Sam. Stay with me. Please, stay with me, please.

Okay. Yeah.

Okay. Okay. Uh. Right. All right, listen to me. Um. You get those boys and you get them someplace safe, all right?

Dean? WE are gonna get them somewhere safe.

No. You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right? I mean, look at us. Saving people, hunting things, it's what we do.

Stop, Dean, just stop

It's okay. It's okay. it's good. It's good. We had one hell of a ride, man.

I will find away, okay? I will find another way.

No. No. No, no no no no. No bringing me back, okay? You know that always ends bad.

Dean, please.

I'm fading pretty quick, so, there's a few things I need you to hear. Come here. Let me look at you. There he is. I am so proud of you, Sam. You know that? I've always looked up to you. Remember when we were kids, you were so damn smart. You never took any of Dad's crap. I never knew how you did that. And you're stronger than me. You always have been. Hey, did I ever tell you, that night that I came for you when you were in school? You know, when dad hadn't come back from his hunting trip?

Uh, the woman in white.

The woman in white, that's right. I must have stood outside your door for hours, cause I didn't know what you would say. I thought you'd tell me to get lost, or get dead. And I didn't know what I would have done if I didn't have you. Cause I was so scared. I was scared. Cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It's always been you and me.

Then don't leave me. Don't leave me. I can't do this alone.

Yes you can.

Well, I don't want to.

Hey. I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna be with you. Right here. Every day. Every day you're out there, and you're living, and you're fighting, cause you, you always keep fighting. You hear me? I'll be there, every step. I love you so much. My baby brother. Well, I did not think this would be the day. But it is, it is, and that's okay. I need you, I need you to promise me. I need you to tell me that it's okay. I need you to tell me it's okay. Look at me. I need. I need. I need you to tell me it's okay. Tell me it's okay.

Dean. It's okay. You can go now.

Bye, Sam.

NO, IT IS NOT OKAY. THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF OKAY.

And of course I haven't described Sam's face as he understands what's happening, Dean's occasional spasms of pain, the handholding, the fucking FOREHEAD TOUCH, the tears, the way Dean's hand drops away, the way Sam's hands shake as he clutches his dead brother (hello, AHBL again).

Maybe we just need to watch it.

Gifs borrowed from @jaredandjensen.

And there's also the Always Keep Fighting shoutout, the "I love you," Dean calling Sam his "baby brother," the "I can't do this alone/Yes you can/Well I don't want to" parallel with 1.01. Infinite points, friends. I can't count that high.

(Things not to think about: Sam putting Dean's body in the back seat, and then putting the two young brothers in the front and driving them to safety. Sam driving 15 hours back to Lebanon with his brother's body. Do not think about these things.)

Aftermath. Sam and Miracle, and no one else, are giving Dean a hunter's funeral. And I know Covid means Sam couldn't have any friends there, but also? This is kind of perfect. Sam facing it alone. The song we hear as Sam lights his brother's pyre is "Brothers in Arms" by Dire Straits, in case you're not emotionally wrecked yet.

Yeah, I'm already there, thanks anyway.

Next we see Sam's slightly more modern alarm going off at 8:00. Note that Sam gets up later now, because at the beginning of the episode, he had already gone for a run and was cooking breakfast when Dean woke at 8:00. But now there's no one to cook for so he doesn't need to get back early and I AM NOT OKAY.

ANYWAY.

Sam gets up and faces his lonely day. He cooks eggs. One piece of toast pops up. He sits in the library with Miracle and looks at the names carved into the table. He wanders the halls with his dog at his side. (SAM HAVING A DOG WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE HIM HAPPY. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE US HAPPY. HOW DARE YOU.)

{Sidebar: Has Sam ever had a dog when he wasn't at a low point in his already-low life? Discuss.}

Eventually he finds himself at the door to Dean's room. The room is just as Dean left it, kind of messy, kind of very full of Dean. He sits on Dean's bed and pets the dog and cries and it should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that I am ROLLING AROUND IN ALL OF THIS BEAUTIFUL PAIN.

No one at all.

@annianvi thinks he’s wearing Dean’s hoodie when he cooks his sad lonely breakfast? Could it be?

Sam hears a phone buzzing in Dean's desk. He digs out the one labeled "Dean's other other phone" and answers. The caller asks for "Agent Bon Jovi" and says he's had some bodies turn up without hearts in Austin. "A friend of mine, Donna Hanscum, said you were the one to call." Oooh, are we sending him to Austin? Is Walker, Texas Ranger just going to be another fake name and fake badge? Now that's how you do a spinoff!

{Sidebar: Does Donna know about Dean? Did Sam tell anyone yet? Is the trying to get him out of the bunker and keep him busy? If so, wouldn't she have given the guy Sam's number, not Dean's other other phone? But maybe it's someone she talked to weeks ago. Discuss.}

Sam tells the caller he is on his way, and we see him with a packed bag, heading out of the bunker with Miracle. He turns to look one last time and then turns off all the lights. We haven't seen the bunker this dark since the day they found it. I don't think he's ever coming back. Goodbye, bunker. I know some people hated you, but I was not one of them. {Sidebar: Did he give the bunker key to anyone? Surely he wouldn't want all those resources to go to waste!}

So, I guess the episode title refers to Sam having (choosing?) to carry on after he loses his brother. THIS IS FINE.

Now we're back at Dean's pyre, and this time we drift up with the smoke. We catch up with Dean, outdoors, in a lovely setting with trees and birds. "Well, at least I made it to Heaven," he says. "Yep," someone answers. It's Bobby! Real Bobby, not AU Bobby! Dean's actually standing next to a building - a cabin, maybe - and Bobby is sitting on the porch.

What memory is this?

It ain't, ya idjit.

Yeah it is. Cause the last I heard, you, you were in in Heaven's lockup.

Was. Now I'm not. That kid of yours, before he went wherever, made some changes here. Busted my ass out. And then he, well, set some things right. Tore down all the walls. Heaven ain't just reliving your golden oldies any more. It's what it always should have been. Everyone happy, everyone together. Rufus lives about five miles that way. With Aretha. Thought she'd have better taste. And your mom and dad, they got a place over yonder. It ain't just Heaven, Dean. It's the Heaven you deserve. And we been waiting for you.

So Jack did all that.

Well, Cas helped. It's a big new world out there. You'll see.

So, I guess Cas made it out of the Empty? Dean smiles at that, but doesn't suggest finding him or anything. I approve. Bobby pulls out a couple of beers (the green cooler made it into Heaven!!!) and they share some bad beer. Dean comments that Heaven is "almost perfect," and Bobby knows EXACTLY what's missing, because of course he does. "He'll be along. Time up here, it's different. You got everything you could ever want, or need, or dream. So I guess the question is, what are you gonna do now, Dean?" Well, Dean doesn't have everything he could ever want or need, but he does see one thing - Baby. With her Kansas plates! Friends, that's two things I requested before the end that I didn't think I would ever see: a forehead touch, and Baby wearing her original plates. Thank you, Jack.

Dean's face lights up. "I think I'll go for a drive." As he walks to his car, we see the cabin is actually Harvelle's Roadhouse, albeit smaller, I think. Dean settles into his car and says "Hey, Baby" and when he turns her on, "Carry On Wayward Son" begins to play.

I know he looks good in Purgatory, but DAMN if he don't look fine in Heaven, too.

We cut to the name Dean, which is embroidered on - a little boy's overalls. Sam's little boy. Oh, wow. I was not prepared for this. Sam has a son named Dean, and we switch back and forth between Dean driving through Heaven and scenes of Sam's life with his son and his mysterious, barely-seen wife. She has long dark hair, and I'd like to point out that she could easily be either Eileen or Dr. Cara Roberts. Just saying. Sam's house is full of family photos, including the one of him and Dean from his memory box and a new one from the episode Lebanon. I never thought about the fact that they might have actually taken a photo, and if they did, would it still be around after Sam smashed the pearl? Well, obviously, yes. We see Sam throwing a ball with his son, helping him with his homework (Sam in glasses? Check!) and just obviously really loving this kid and giving him the childhood he never had. We also see a really, really unfortunate grey wig that I refuse to screencap. You're welcome. As aging Sam sits in the hundred-year-old car in his garage, his dead brother drives happily along dirt roads in Heaven, and I'd prefer my Heaven have paved roads, thanks.

We end in Sam's house, now complete with hospital bed. Sam could be in his 80s or even 90s, which means he could have lived another 50 years, more or less, after Dean died. His son doesn't look any older than his 20s or 30s (and also looks vaguely South Asian to me), and I wonder how old Sam was when he finally let himself have a family. Remember when Dean said his happy ending was for Sam to have kids and get old? Well, he got it, finally. Did Sam get a regular job? Did he keep hunting? We don't know. What we do know is that his son has a anti-possession tattoo. Some people have taken this to mean young Dean is a hunter, but I don't think we can jump to that conclusion. It could just be 1) Dean wanted a tattoo like his father's, or b) Sam knows there are still demons out there and that his son would naturally be a target, hunter or not.

All right, I had to screencap teary-eyed Sam grasping the steering wheel and reliving his years with his brother in this car, so we can just pretend we don't see The Wig, okay?

Sam's evidently in hospice care. Or maybe we'll all have hospital beds in our houses in 50 years. Who knows. His son sits on the bed and takes his hand. Sam smiles at him, and Dean says "Dad, it's okay. You can go now." PARALLELLS! As some woman sings "Carry On Wayward Son" for whatever reason (why didn't they use the lovely a cappella version they already had from Fan Fiction?), Sam places his hand on Dean's and takes his last breath.

{Sidebar: Where is Sam's wife in all of this? Divorced? Already dead? She doesn't seem to be in the family pictures, so I'm going with divorced. Discuss.}

Heaven. Oh, guys. I've done this rewatch without tearing up at all but I'm about to tip over. The Impala pulls onto a bridge. Dean gets out. (Now your life's no longer empty, surely Heaven waits for you.) He stands at the bridge railing, enjoying Heaven, smiling. And then he feels something and he smiles even more because he knows it's Sam. Oh god, Jensen did such a good job here. Just this fucking smile killed me dead. "Hey, Sammy," he says. He turns and there is Sam, wearing the same outfit he wore in 1.01 (they both are, but Sam's is a bigger departure from his later years). Why? I don't know. But I know it means Sam Winchester is spending eternity in something that isn't a plaid shirt. How do we feel about that?

"Dean," Sam says. They face each other and smile, and it's the smile of we just survived a hunt I didn't think we'd survive or our son just overpowered God or something along those lines. Then they embrace, and I love the way Sam hesitates just a little before clapping a hand on Dean's back. Like he's afraid it isn't really happening, and he doesn't want to break the illusion. I also love that Dean, as always, takes the top (oh, get your minds out of the gutter) and hugs as if he were taller than Sam. Then Dean puts his hand on the back of Sam's neck and turns him to admire the view and he has this joyous smile like now, this is FINALLY Heaven. And he gazes at Sam like look, Sammy, look what we did. Look what we get. The lack of dialog in this scene is just ~chef's kiss~. The camera goes wide and we see the three main characters, Sam and Dean and Baby, enjoying the Heaven they deserve.

I would like to know where they filmed this, because it's gorgeous even without the Winchesters.

Did Sam's entire life go by in the span of Dean's drive? Or did Dean just decide he'd drive until his brother arrived, no matter how long it took? And how much do I love the fact that he could have gone and visited his parents but instead he said "nah, I'll drive around and wait for Sam?" SO MUCH, PEOPLE. SO MUCH.

Also, can we talk about the fact that Sam didn't know what to expect in Heaven? I mean, Ash said they were soulmates and would share a Heaven, but why would he believe that? And he might have even still believed he'd have a hard time getting into Heaven. What a relief it must have been to show up on Dean's bridge.

And then Jared and Jensen thank us. You're welcome, boys. Thank you.

So. Thursday night I was mildly positive about the episode. But on rewatch, I'm extremely positive. Sure, I would have loved the Six Feet Under ending where we see everyone's fate. And maybe that would have happened if not for Covid. But I'm just relieved we didn't get the Game of Thrones or How I Met Your Mother endings. I'm not sure this current cohort could have done better, honestly. Sam wanted a normal family life. Dean wanted Sam to have a normal family life. But Sam was never going to stop hunting as long as Dean was hunting. And Dean wasn't going to stop hunting as long as he was alive. Dean got the end he wanted/expected and the Heaven he earned (and Sam caring for Jack was directly responsible for Heaven's improvements). Sam got to live a normal life and have a family. As I said earlier, I suspect his marriage didn't last. (Or maybe he and Eileen or Cara got married for insurance purposes, and happily co-parented little Dean, but knew they weren't each other's one true love.) But I actually prefer that. Dean loved Sam more than he loved anyone. Sam loved Dean the same way. I'm glad Sam got to have a child (who he loves as much as his brother, but in a different way), but I don't want Sam and Dean to share their Heaven with Sam's wife.

Now, would I have done Dean's death differently? Yes. I did appreciate that they had him upright, so the brothers were face to face, just like AHBL. But being impaled on a spike was just less dramatic that I would have liked. I would have preferred that Sam immediately see his brother was dying, instead of Dean having to explain it to him. Dean could have had his jugular torn, slowly bleeding out, and still been on his knees (held up by Sam, hell yes) making his deathbed speech. And then I wouldn't have thought "would an ambulance be here by now if you'd called them?" halfway through it.

{Sidebar: What if Sam had fed Dean some blood from one of the dead vamps. Wouldn't that have kept him undead long enough to get fixed up, and then they could have done the vampire cure? Discuss.}

I know some people are very unhappy about the finale. Honestly, from what I can tell, most of those people are hard-core Destiel shippers. And I guess they wanted, as they always do, for the Dean and Castiel relationship to be more important than the Dean and Sam relationship. Sorry, guys, that was never gonna happen. In the end, it came down to the epic love story of Sam and Dean, just as it should have.

So, I'm sad and I'm happy. I'm bereft and I'm full. I miss my boys, but my boys will always be with me. I hope you guys will be with me for a long time, too.

#spn #15.20 #spoilers #recap #tv recaps

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comicgeekscomicgeek · 3 years

Text

Their Hero Academia - Chapter 77: Kids Will be Kids

Presenting the next chapter of my highly self-indulgent next gen MHA fic!

Find the rest here!

It didn't take long for Kenta to find Bioshock. He was talking at the first aid station that had been set up with another Hero that Kenta didn't recognize. Bioshock had explained early that, while he couldn't turn back time so that an injury had never happened in the first place, like Doc Clock's Rewind, his Cell Activation could speed up the normal recovery process of routine injuries (Provided you didn't have type AB blood.). An explosion in the near distance reminded Kenta that this meant The Rookies could keep working him and his classmates right up until the point of exhaustion, however much punishment they took. He swallowed as he approached them.

"Uhm, Boost Rush told me to report to you, sir."

"Hi there!" Bioshock turned away from his conversation and then gestured to the other hero. "This is Bezoar. His Quirk, Tongue Tank, is also tied to what he eats, so I wanted to use it for a demonstration."

Bezoar raised a hand in greeting. "Hey kid. How's it going?" He was tall, though not on the order of All Might or even Boost Rush, but more like the size of Kenta's father. He was more rounded at all the edges though. He had muted facial features, hardly any presence of a nose, and his hair was brown and fluffy. He was also somewhat pudgy for a Pro Hero; not to the extent that it had to be the result of his Quirk like Fat Gum, but just a normal heavyset person.

Kenta raised a hand in return, a little confused but paying attention. This guy must have been busy elsewhere so far, as he didn't remember Shinso gushing about him previously. His classmate's Hero Worship (Heh. He’d have tell Takuma that one.) was useful for identifying Pros. "I'm... good."

"Okay, so, here's his Quirk being used a couple of days ago, after improper nutritional--" Bioshock began.

"You mean eating like a /normal/ person." Bezoar cut him off. "Nobody likes your kale and oat smoothies, Shimano."

"--after improper nutritional intake." Bioshock continued, turning his head away from his coworker indignantly. He turned a tablet he'd been holding towards Kenta, and a video played. Kenta watched as the Bezoar in the video unhinged his jaw and his tongue transformed into a tank cannon. He fired some sort of projectile that shattered a large rock to bits. "Not bad, but now, after a meal that was centered around iron and calcium content..." He turned back to Bezoar.

The heavy-set man smirked. He then dropped down to brace himself on all fours as he activated his Quirk and took aim at a nearby boulder. Bioshock covered his ears and called out "Firing range in use!" just moments before the shot was released. There was a roar of air as the projectile took off. This time, the rock didn't shatter, but the one about a hundred yards behind it DID, as the first one now had a neatly created hole in it. Bioshock looked smug as Bezoar brushed himself off and stood back up. "Thank you. You can go back to the long-range group." Bezoar gave him a brief nod and trundled off.

"...I don't mean to be rude, sir, and I get that was impressive, but I'm not sure what it has to do with me." Kenta furrowed his brow. That was about as far from his Quirk as Suneater’s had been. All three involved eating, but there wasn’t much more to link them.

“So,” Bioshock said, “let’s start with this? What’s your Quirk?”

Kenta blinked slowly. “It’s officially registered as “Appetite.” I can eat just about anything, whether or not it’s really food.”

Bioshock drew himself up, grinning. "I studied your medical file from Eri—excuse me, Doc Clock. There's more to your Quirk than just 'eating stuff'. You're able to intake /way/ more than a human normally can, with no apparent ill effect, with highly efficient processing since you’re not the size of a small house, and more than that--" He moved forward, clearly becoming excited now, and took Kenta's face in his hands, pulling his jaw open and examining him. "Your teeth are practically indestructible, and the interior of your mouth, esophagus, and connected digestive elements are similarly impervious.”

Kenta could swear he'd seen the same gleam in the Iida twins eyes when they started talking about some piece of technology. "I see..." He managed to awkwardly respond around the fingers pulling at his mouth, before Bioshock finally calmed down somewhat, turning to gesture at the table behind him.

"What this means, is that your body is capable of incredibly fast absorption of consumed materials, as well as withstanding certain things that would be... well, let's say /volatile/. We're going to test your responses to things to elevate your adrenal levels, blood oxygen, and other measurable statistics... before we move on to the fun stuff." He grinned, and Kenta wasn't sure if he should be scared or not.

***

“I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m just going to lie here and be dead.”

Chihiro just sighed. Despite the theatrics, Mika had a point. They were all pretty much exhausted from having spent the day training. There’d been a short break for lunch, but it was been almost non-stop training otherwise. She’d spent considerable time unleashing powerful discharges of electricity, stopping just before she reached the point where it started to affect her brain. Well, almost. One particularly bad discharge had left her a sputtering mess until Bioshock had applied his Quirk and accelerated her recovery. That had been embarrassing. She’d been pushing her limits for a while now and hadn’t had any issues with blowing out her brains. Of course, she’d also been relying more and more on the Support equipment built into her costume as well, making use of the different tools and outlets for regulating her electricity. Her costume, along with those of a few others who made more extensive use of Support devices, was here, currently stored away until the Rookies decided it was time to train with it.

Maybe she’d been relying on it too much. There was no shame, she knew, in using whatever it took to be her best and most effective self. But what was she going to do if there was an emergency and she didn’t have access to that? It was something she was going to have to chew on.

Of course, Mika had to go and try and be extra during dinner…

“Hey!’ Anime Fukidashi shouted, pulling her plate out of the way. The plate and food somehow turned animated as soon as she touched them. Chihiro was making a concentrated effort not to think about it. Fukidashi was just confusing at the best of times. “If you’re going to be dead, watch the horns!”

Slowly, Mika raised her head back up off the table. “Fine, I’m not dead. I haven’t made a will yet anyway. Who knows what might happen to my porn collection if I don’t make a plan for it!”

That got a booming laugh out of Yoarashi. “Oh, babe,” he laughed. “You really are too much!” The giant boy somehow managed to still have entirely too much energy. “I would be happy to take possession of your collection should anything unfortunate happen!”

Chihiro stared down at her plate. “Can we not talk about porn while we’re eating?” She still couldn’t believe Mika had somehow managed to have her giant boyfriend at the summer training camp. The odds of that were so astronomical that she wouldn’t have been able to figure them out even if she’d been good at math.

Not that she had any right to complain, of course. Her own not-quite boyfriend was here too. Her not-quite boyfriend who was already making her jewelry and who had all but promised that she’d want to kiss him again.

Which she didn’t. Just to be clear.

Yet.

“Fine,” Mika whined. “Just be a downer, Chi.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “Right. So sorry to bring down the mood.”

“See that you are.”

“I do have to say, Mika,” Fukidashi said, “you really hit the jackpot with Yoarashi here. Especially compared to Monoma. It’s just like I Upgraded My Boyfriend and I Never Looked Back!”

“You do realize I’m sitting right here, don’t you?” Monoma asked irritably, from where he was sitting next to Chihiro. She could understand his irritation at the comparison. Yoarashi had at least a foot of height on him and a considerable amount of muscle as well. And nobody liked being considered a poorer version of someone else. She felt inadequate enough compared to some of her friends (usually Mika) sometimes.

“That’s what makes it more fun,” Fukidashi said, rubbing her hands together. “You’re so easy to rile up, Monoma.”

“Oh, please, do not tease Monoma!” Yoarashi boomed. He looked over at the smaller boy. “But I want you to know, Monoma, that as Mika’s current boyfriend, I hold you, her ex, no ill will! I hope we can be friends!”

Monoma held his gaze for a long moment, blinking slowly. “Friends,” he said, utterly deadpan. “Sure. Right.”

Yoarashi let out another laugh, completely blind to Monoma’s sarcasm. Or possibly being deliberately obtuse. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure. “Holy Hurricanes, thank goodness! I was afraid you would hate me!”

Monoma’s jaw clenched for a moment before he responded. “Of course not,” he said, still deadpan. Yoarashi still didn’t notice, but Fukidashi was stifling a laugh. Even Mika was rolling her eyes.

“So, Shiro,” Mika said, likely trying to prevent a fight, “you look mostly dead yourself.”

“Oh, thanks,” he snapped.

“No,” Mika said, and here her tone shifted to something more sympathetic, “I’m serious. You look beat to hell. Training taking that much out of you?”

Monoma frowned. Chihiro had to admit, Mika was right. They were all exhausted, but he looked like he’d been through an extra kind of hell. “My asshole cousin,” he said. “He takes particular delight in beating the stuffing out of me. ‘Evasion practice,’ he calls it.”

Chihiro frowned. She gave him a slight nudge with one of her Cords. “Is that all it is?” she asked. He sounded pretty defeated again.

“Oh, no, never enough for him,” Monoma groaned. “He had to get all psychological on me too. Telling me I don’t have to prove anything. As if that was going to do anything but make me try harder. Or that I need to stop being jealous of people with greater raw power.”

There was an awkward pause. Mika gave Fukidashi a stern look that silenced anything she might have added to the conversation. Yoarashi seemed completely oblivious.

“It just makes it worse that he’s right,” Monoma said, causing Mika to breathe a sigh of relief. “I just wish he wasn’t so damn smug about it.”

“You know what you need, ‘Ro?” Mika asked. And now it was Chihiro’s turn to groan. No good ever came of Mika starting a sentence with “you know what you need.” She had plenty of personal experience getting drawn into crazy schemes when that happened.

“Extensive psychological counseling?” Fukidashi asked.

“A distraction,” Mika said. She pointed across the cafeteria, where Koda was sitting and talking with Aoyama and Shoji. “We’re going to get Koda and Aoyama together. Operation: Summer Love.”

“Now I know why you didn’t invite Tetsutetsu to sit with us,” Chihiro said. “She’d have put a stop to this.” She really needed to start hanging around with Izumi more. This kind of thing never happened with her.

***

“You okay?” Isamu asked. “You’ve been staring at that table for a while now.”

Kana shook her head, her orange ponytail swaying. “I’m not sure. I know Mika and Fukidashi are up to something. And they’re probably looping Monoma, Kaminari, and Yoarashi in. This has disaster written all over it.”

“Do we need to do something about it?” Midoriya asked. “Mineta wrangling is actually on the official list of Class Representative duties.”

Isamu was pretty sure that was a joke. Given how Kana laughed at it and that Midoriya was smiling, it probably was. Probably.

“Eh, we can probably let it play out,” Kana said. “She and Monoma will mostly cancel each other out. Mika’s ‘zany schemes’ usually backfire anyway.” There was the slightest hint of doom in her voice, like someone who’s decided to step out of the way of a runaway train, but knew that train was still going to hit someone.

“Yeah, I guess,” Midoriya said.

“She does occasionally give good advice,” Sora Iida, sitting next to him, said. “She did suggest the bikini on our trip to Todoroki’s resort. You did enjoy that, did you not?”

Midoriya went several shades of red, fast enough that Isamu was concerned he might combust. “Ah, yeah,” Midoriya said when he could speak. “That was… good.”

“What about you, Shinso?” Isamu asked, in-between bites of food, to give Midoriya time to recover. It wasn’t anything special, served from the Rookies’ mess hall, but there was plenty of it. Bioshock had apparently designed the menu to provide them with the maximum amount of nutrition and energy, though he was pretty sure he’d heard Vanish Veil refer to it as ‘health food junk.’ He looked over at the purple-haired boy. “You doing all right?”

Shinso was drinking from a steaming cup of tea that Bioshock had provided him with. Even with the protections his Quirk offered him, the kid could only scream so much before it started hurting his throat. He nodded and flashed a thumbs’ up, being under instructions not to talk until he was back in training. Given how much he liked to talk, it had to be killing him.

Isamu gave him a thumb’s up in return. “So, Midoriya,” he said, “is Ground Zero always that scary?”

“What?” Midoriya asked, surprised. He quickly shook his head. “Oh, oh no. He’s not usually scary. He’s just intense. But really… this is him being pretty sedate.” Beside him, Shinso’s head was bobbing like one of those novelty drinking birds.

Isamu gulped. If what they’d seen so far—shouting instructions, generally giving off scary vibes, arguing with and insulting Aizawa, Super-Ball, and the Rookies—was sedate, he wasn’t sure he wanted to see intense. At one point, Ground Zero’s argument with Vanish Veil had gotten so intense, he’d been certain they were going to come to blows. Only Bioshock’s intervention had staved off violence.

“Relax,” Kana assured him. “I’m friends with Katsumi, remember? At least twenty percent of all that… Ground Zero-ness… is just an act.”

He shook his head. “Why am I not as reassured by that as I’d like?”

A large shadow fell over the table and Isamu turned to see the Shiketsu girl, Tatsuma. She was, in a word, imposing, with powerful arms and legs. But the most imposing thing about her didn’t seem to be raw physical might. Instead, she just seemed to possess an aura of power and menace that was impossible to ignore. He gulped.

“Oh, hi,” Midoriya said. “Do you want to sit with us?” He waved in Kana’s general direction. “I’m Toshinori Midoriya, and this is Kana Tetsutetsu, we’re the Class Reps for Class 1-A and 1-B. And these are my friends, Sora Iida, Isamu Haimawari and Shota Shinso.”

Shinso perked up and started to open his mouth, but then seemed to remember he wasn’t supposed to talk. He seemed to settle for giving a friendly wave.

Tatsuma looked down at them, food tray in hand. “I know who you are,” she said, with a gaze that seemed especially fixated on Midoriya. “Some of you are practically royalty to some people.”

Midoriya swallowed hard. “It’s, ah, it’s really not like that…”

“I am not accusing you of asking for it or even enjoying it, but let’s not pretend it doesn’t exist,” she said in a neutral tone. After a moment she sat down. “My name is Chie Tatsuma, class representative of Shiketsu 1A.”

It had taken nearly most of the first term, but Isamu had gotten used to living and training with the children of some of the world’s greatest Heroes. But it didn’t change the fact that Midoriya, Iida, and Kana were all the children of highly ranked Heroes. All of them had a parent in the Top Ten even. Shinso’s parents were Underground Heroes, of course, but still well known within the right circles.

“Looking forward to working with you,” Kana said, diplomatically.

Shinso reached over and frantically patted Midoriya's arm. When Midoriya gave him his attention, Shinso made several complicated gestures with his hands, first pointing at Tatsuma, then making some kind of gesture that ended with him flapping his hands like wings.

Somehow, Midoriya seemed to figure it out. “Oh!” he said. “Right, thanks, Shota. Tatsuma… are you related to Ryukyu?”

The Dragoon Hero? Now there was a name Isamu hadn’t heard in a long time… He vaguely recalled she’d been a rising star for a quite a few years, before slowly falling out of favor.

For a moment, a small half-smile crossed the tall girl’s face. “Yes. She’s my mother.” She looked at the other students, all of whom were children of the generation after Ryukyu’s time. “Mother was keen to not have children until she retired.”

There were a few Pro-Heroes like that, Isamu realized. If he remembered the Sports Festival right, Vlad King had a daughter in Class 1-C. And the Shiketsu students also included Pixie-Bob’s adopted son.

“I thought so,” Midoriya said. “Mom was always sorry they didn’t get to work together more.”

The smile grew by a small bit. “The feeling was mutual. I remember sitting in the den watching the news as a child. Uravity had just rescued a large number of people from a boating accident. Mother looked at me and said “I knew that girl was going to be great.”

Midoriya nodded and smiled at that. “She does a lot of great work. We’re all proud of her.”

“Both admirable women,” Iida agreed. “My uncle also worked with Ryukyu a few times. He always spoke very highly of her. The youngest woman ever to reach the Top Ten. She likely inspired many up and coming female Heroes.”

The moment the ranking system was brought up, Chie’s eyes flashed into a gold, slit-pupiled shape. A tearing of wood could be heard. Chie's hand had dug into the table, causing the small area to splinter. When she spoke again, it was in a tone of cool anger.

“The Ranking System is a slap in the face to every Pro who takes on the role of hero. It claims to give you something to aspire to, when in fact it promotes inferiority in everyone who is not considered part of the elite. My mother spent her whole career thinking she wasn’t doing enough. Thinking she didn’t deserve the things she earned.” She took a deep breath, then let it out, traces of smoke escaping her nostrils. “You said it in innocence, so I will not hold it against you, but kindly please do not bring up that travesty of a system in my presence again.”

It had taken nearly everything Isamu had not to jump when Tatsuma had splintered the table. He must have been getting better. Then again, compared to Kirishima-Bakugo’s explosive rage, Tatsuma’s cool anger was much less harsh on the nerves. But she was still definitely scary, just in her own way.

“My apologies,” Iida said.

“I can’t say I agree,” Midoriya said. “Dad always said the rankings were mostly to give people a little bit of a show, remind them they’ve got people watching out for them. Make things a little less scary if there was something there that regular people could get invested in. There’s people who took it too seriously, like Endeavor, but most Heroes aren’t after the rankings. Dad bounces back and forth from the top spot with Uncle Mirio all the time, and it’s no big deal for him.”

Isamu winced. He liked Midoriya a lot, and he knew Deku was about as humble a person as could exist, especially considering his power and ranking, but he had to know that wasn’t how it looked from the outside...

Chie slowly rose from the table. Her eyes remained reptilian in countenance, and a slow trickle of smoke exhaled from Chie’s nostrils. A definite hint of sulfur could be smelled in the area.

“Really? Back and forth to the number two spot? My, what a fall from grace. Has he ever had to deal with the fact that no matter how many lives he’s saved, how many disasters he’s averted, and no matter how many villains he’s helped capture, that it’s just not enough for people to respect you the same as those above?”

She stared into Midoriya’s eyes, her tone still cool, but now with a definite hint of contained rage. “Has he been so convinced by the system that he is somehow unworthy of even the paltriest scraps the Hero Commission throws his way? To work his absolute hardest for the people, and then be demoted for something that was no fault of his own?” She then let out a bitter chuckle, which briefly showed hints of sharpened teeth. “A show. Yes. That’s what the system is. Something for the people on the street to speculate and make bets on who’s going to rise, and who’s going to be a “nobody who will never sniff the Top Ten.” She leaned very close to Midoriya then, the smoke much thicker. “Don’t talk to me of the good of the Ranking System unless you’ve heard your mother cry herself to sleep because it makes her feel she’s not good enough!”

It was then that words in a foreign tongue could be heard. Chie turned to the girl with the white streak in her hair. Chie said something back in the same language. The girl replied, her voice soft, consoling. Chie gritted her teeth, nodded, and walked away from the table.

Midroiya gulped again. Shinso just sat there, wide-eyed and shell-shocked. There was an awkward silence in the air for a moment. “I…” Midoriya began, but he couldn’t seem to find the right words. “I think I messed that up,” he said finally. It was the closest Isamu could ever recall to seeing him look defeated. Even back on I-Island, when things had looked pretty damn desperate…

Iida gave him a small squeeze. “You could not have known,” she said.

Kana gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sure you’ll have a chance to make it up to her,” she told him.

Isamu held up a hand. “Speaking as the closest thing to normal at this table, maybe… don’t?” he tried. “I mean, I know you guys aren’t all arrogant or high and mighty or anything, but maybe… just don’t poke the hornet’s nest here? Be friendly, sure, but I don’t think this is a difference of opinion or anything simple. I don’t think you’re going to be able to fix it.”

Midoriya shook his head. He just looked so defeated, like his whole worldview had taken a punch. “I guess…”

***

“You okay there, Kimmie?” Takuma asked. The invisible girl had gone stiff for a moment, a bite of food halfway to her mouth. She was definitely starting at something, but he couldn’t tell what. When she wasn’t wearing anything in her hair, it was almost impossible to tell where she was looking. Of course, Kenta seemed to have figured out the secret.

“Yeah, something up?” Kenta asked.

Kimiko set her chopsticks down. “Someone, somewhere here, is trying to ship people. I can feel it in my bones.”

“Oh,” he said.

“Oh?!” Kimiko shouted. Her arms started to flail through the air. “Is that all you can say?!”

“Why’s that such a big deal, Kimmie?” Kenta asked desperately. He was scooting slightly outside of his girlfriend’s hitting range.

“Because they’re doing it without me!”

GLUP!

“Ah, Ojiro?” Rika Bondo asked. “Mind taking your fist out of my head?” Takuma had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Kimiko’s fist was buried in the slime-girl’s skull up to her wrist, having pierced it during her flailing.

“What? Oh, ew! Ew! Ew!” Kimiko quickly withdrew her hand, enough slime sticking to her fingers to coat them like body paint. “Oh, ewwww! It’s sticking to me! Eeeewww!” She shook her hand wildly, trying to dislodge the slime.

“Ojiro!” Tensei said, his own arms flailing through the air, albeit much more mechanically than Kimiko’s. “Please be careful, lest the slime contaminate our food!”

“Hey!” Bondo said. “That slime is me! I’m perfectly sanitary!”

“Ha ha ha!” Kitiara Kaniyashiki let out a laugh. “Oh, we definitely gotta start hanging around with you guys more. You’re a lot more fun than Haimawari. Dunno what Tetsutetsu sees in the guy. He’s a real nervous wreck compared to you all!”

“Hey,” Kenta protested, “Haimawari’s a good guy.

“Yeah,” Kaniyashiki said, “I’m sure he is. And that’s what makes him boring. He’s so ‘aw shucks’ it’s ridiculous.”

“Speaking of shipping,” Bondo said, now that Kimiko had stopped flailing everywhere, “any new shipping gossip, Ojiro?”

Kimiko seemed to light up at that. Takuma could hear the smile in her voice. “Oh, you like my show?!”

“Fukidashi got us turned into it,” Bondo told her.

“Hey, what about our parts?” Takuma asked. “Me and Kenta have shows too you know!”

“Eh,” Kaniyashiki said, waving a hand in the air. “I like the part where you slam into a wall when you’re swinging around. Bet Doc Clock hates patching you up after that.”

Takuma winced at that, countless memories of Doc Clock yelling at him and occasionally hitting him on the head with her reflex hammer flashing through his head. Most of the time, U.A.’s doctor was a sweet woman, but when her temper got up, it was very easy to see that she was Aizawa’s daughter. Words like “you idiot” and “what were you thinking?” and “if it was up to me, I’d expel you!” came readily to her lips. And she really didn’t seem to understand that fame was worth any amount of bruises and broken bones.

“She… might have had some choice words about it,” he admitted.

Kenta practically choked on his food. His friend had an unusual spread in front of him, both regular foods and a bowl full of miscellaneous small objects like nuts, bolts, and screws. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

Tensei likewise winced. “I have advised against such reckless behavior many times. Every time you injure yourself, my heart nearly skips a beat!” He considered this. “Or rather, it would if I possessed an underlying heart condition. As it is, it simply creates an accelerated heartrate and additional levels of stress, which when paired together, are not healthy.”

“Aw, babe,” Takuma said, batting his eyelashes at his boyfriend, “you really do care.” He focused his attention back at Kenta, pointing menacingly. “And you… no comments from the peanut gallery!”

“I thought I was a co-star?”

“Stop bringing logic into this!”

***

Koharu took a long sip of her smoothie. It was sweet, the way she liked it. Having an all liquid diet was limiting sometimes, so she was always grateful for options that were filling and tasted good.

“You were right,” she said. “I can’t recall ever being this tired before, even after the Sports Festival.” And she’d gotten the stuffing nearly knocked out of her several times there. But the Rookies and their teachers had definitely been pushing them hard, her included. On the one hand, she was happy to be treated no differently than the more experienced Hero students. On the other hand, talk about being thrown in the deep end… She brushed her antenna out of her face, as they were starting to droop.

Tokoyami nodded, looking very tired as well. Her familiar, Frog-Shadow, had retreated inside her when she’d sat down, saying that she was “going to her room for a nap”. Tokyami hadn’t even rolled her eyes in annoyance at that, which just showed how tired she was. She was carefully angling food into the side of her beak, mechanically and lifelessly. It looked a bit odd, but Koharu didn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to commenting on how other people had to eat. “Even hearing my parents speak of it, I hadn’t expected it to be this grueling…”

“Mmm-hmm,” Todoroki agreed, slurping noodles into her mouth. She’d taken several large and colorful pills when they’d sat down to eat. Koharu didn’t know what they were, but Todoroki had taken them with such little fanfare or effort that it had to be a pretty regular thing. She wasn’t going to be so rude as to ask about them though. It definitely wasn’t her business to pry into, though Todoroki did look especially tired, compared to everyone else.

Todoroki swallowed. “My apologies. I should not try and talk with my mouth full. But I hope you are not finding the training too difficult, Kocho?”

She shook her head. “No, I can keep up, it’s just… intense. And you guys do this kind of training every day?” She wasn’t about to admit that she’d never worked this hard in her life, especially not in front of the kids of Pro-Heroes. She didn’t need them thinking she couldn’t cut it. She didn’t need herself thinking she couldn’t cut it.

“Not quite,” Tokoyami said. “Some of our Heroics classes are purely theoretical, dealing with law and history. But the physical training is still very demanding and often mentally exhausting as well, depending on how complex it is.”

Well, that made sense. Not everything could be punching the bad guys in the face. And there were plenty of stories in the news of Heroes who failed to follow policies and procedures and were censured, suspended, or even stripped of their licenses on fair occasions. It usually made mention of what Hero School they had graduated from and it had rarely, if ever, been U.A. or Shiketsu. Better to study hard now than end up on the news.

“So basically,” Koharu said, putting on a small grin, “I’ll be feeling this exhausted pretty much for the next two plus years. Is that what you’re saying?”

“You did join us of your own volition,” Todoroki said. “You knew the job was dangerous when you took it.”

That got a laugh out of Koharu, and a chirping one out of Tokoyami. “Yeah, okay,” she conceded. “Good point.”

“Hello? Pardon me, I don’t mean to interrupt.” The voice seemed to come from out of nowhere as there had been no sounds of footsteps preceding it. There stood the multi-eyed girl from Shiketsu, her six eyes blinking in a bit of a shy way, but with a beaming smile. “My name is Akira Shida. I thought it proper to introduce myself.”

Koharu nearly let out a small yelp, but she clamped her mouth shut hard. No matter how much she told herself the other girl was no threat, there was still some animal instinct that prompted the moth to fear the spider. Though even without the spider-thing, the ninja-sneaky thing was pretty startling all on its own. Even still, she would also admit, the other girl was otherwise kind of cute.

“Not at all,” Tokoyami said, giving the spider-girl a polite nod. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I’m Asuka Tokoyami.”

Todoroki gave a small wave. “Likewise. I am Izumi Todoroki.”

“And I’m Koharu Kocho,” Koharu added. “Nice to meet you.”

“Please,” Tokoyami went on, gesturing to the bench beside her, “sit. Join us.”

“Thank you kindly.” Suddenly the “spikes” on her back extended into eight spider-like limbs which carried her over in just a few seconds. They made no sound as the legs scurried across the ground, easily lifting Shida’s body up and placing her down at the lunch table. It reminded Kocho a bit of seeing Shoji extend and walk on his extra-four arms. Once she was seated, the legs quickly retracted into her back, once more looking like a set of eight spikes. “I wanted to apologize for Tatsuma’s behavior earlier. She’s very.. intense, but she has her reasons.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t know anything about having intense classmates like that,” Todoroki said, the corners of her mouth tugging upward in a mischievous smile.

“She is correct,” Tokoyami went on. “I’m reasonably confident Kirishima-Bakugo will behave herself, especially with her father here, but it isn’t impossible she’ll react violently if provoked enough.”

“She sure seemed like she didn’t like us,” Koharu said. She took a last drink of her smoothie, slurping up the remains. “Sorry. Noisier than I thought it was going to be.”

“Quite alright,” Shida assured them with a friendly smile. She frowned a bit at Tokoyami’s statement. “You may wish to advise her not to act on that impulse. Tatsuma is very strong.”

There was a small shift in Todoroki. Koharu knew that she and Kirishima-Bakugo were friends, but just based on what she’d seen of the two of them, it seemed even deeper than that. Todoroki seemed to be the only person who could make Kirishima-Bakugo back down from anything.

“As much as I am able to occasionally steer Katsumi,” Todoroki said, “she will ultimately make her own decisions. Especially where her pride is concerned.” She frowned in concern though. “But she is also too stubborn to know when to give up. How strong is ‘very strong’?”

Shida seemed reluctant for a moment. “I have a loyalty to my school, and to my classmates, so I can’t give you specifics. However, I don’t want any incidents that could impact the importance of this trip. It’s not broadcast like UA’s, but you’re aware Shiketsu has a Sports Festival as well?”

Todoroki nodded. “Yes. I have even attended a few of them, at Shinji’s father’s invitation. Very intense completion, if less focused on spectacle than ours.”

“Tatsuma won this year’s, but she did not just win. She dominated the tournament in a way no one has in decades. This tournament included myself, Kaz, Seung, and Shinji. Shinji’s stronger than his dad was at his age. He made it to the finals as well. He unleashed winds that damaged the very stadium, but Tatsuma still beat him with little trouble.” Akira’s eyes seemed like they were looking somewhere else for a moment. “She’s not someone you want to be across the ring from.”

And Kirishima-Bakugo hadn’t even made it out of the first round of the tournament, Koharu remembered, defeated by Todoroki’s elemental power, though it had been a very close thing. But Kirishima-Bakugo’s real power was in her ferocity, not her physical strength. Regardless, Koharu was grateful that she hadn’t had to fight either of them. Against fire, ice, and explosions, moth-powers probably wouldn’t have added up to much.

Yet, she told herself. Wasn’t much good yet. Once she got more training, maybe she could keep up.

“Shinji is incredibly powerful,” Todoroki replied. “Anyone who could take him down easily is formidable indeed.”

Tokaymi let out a frustrated sigh. She pinched the bridge of her beak with her fingertips. “Of course, that’s who she’d pick a fight with.”

“Maybe it won’t happen?” Koharu tried. She didn’t believe her own words, but it never hurt to be hopeful.

Todoroki frowned again. “I will tell her to use all caution. That is all I can promise.”

“Thank you. I will speak to Seung, if Tatsuma will listen to anyone it’s her. Granted Seung has her own reasons to dislike the status quo,” Shida said off-handedly. She was clearly someone who liked to talk, but probably didn’t always realize how much she was saying. Seung must have been the foreign Shiketsu student, Koharu realized.

“She was definitely giving us the evil eye when we got off the bus,” Koharu said. Like she’d been judging them actually, and assigning them a failing grade. “What was that us in particular or…?”

“That’s a very long story.” Shida thought for a moment. “It’s not you specifically, but she has little love for the Pro Hero system. At least Japan’s version of it.”

And yet she was enrolled in a Hero school? Maybe she was trying to change the system from within? The system wasn’t flawless, but it sure seemed like it was better than it was a couple of decades ago. “Ah, I won’t pry then,” she said.

“Are there any of your other classmates we should be concerned about?” Tokoyami asked. “Mineta’s boyfriend seems exuberant but harmless enough.”

“Oh Shinji’s a sweetheart,” Shida agreed. “Kazuchika’s a huge flirt. The only problem you’d have with him is him possibly hitting on you, but he gets the message if you’re not interested. That doesn’t mean he’d stop being flirtatious, just that he’s not actively trying to sweep you off your feet anymore. He means no harm, it’s just who he is.”

“Good,” Tokyami replied, seemingly satisfied with that. “Beyond Kirishima-Bakugo, I doubt you have anything to worry about from our class. Some of them can be a bit annoying or egotistical, but none of them would mean you any real harm.” She seemed to consider something. “Well, there is Mineta. She can be rather flirtatious as well.”

“There is Monoma,” Todoroki said. “That’s the blond boy, from 1-B. He may try to start something.”

Koharu frowned. “He seemed nice enough at the Sports Festival. He took losing to me pretty gracefully.” He’d even brought her snacks between matches. Though she knew interclass rivalries could get pretty intense. It did remind her she hadn’t spoken to him since then. She really should.

“Katsumi certainly does not like him,” Todoroki said. “Though the whole of it is a bit more complex. But he does believe in trying to make his class successful and proving their superiority. He may try to start an additional rivalry.”

Ah. A little too much class pride then. That’d do it.

“You may wish to try and keep him away from Tatsuma and Seung,” Shida advised. “I don’t “think” Tatsuma would care about it enough to do something, but Seung has a short fuse for, and I’m quoting here: “Stupid hero penis-jousting.” I probably horribly mangled that. I’m trying to learn Korean better, but it’s slow going.” She says this with a nervous chuckle.

“A bit blunt,” Todoroki said, trying and failing to hide a smile, “but quite accurate really.”

“I’ll speak to Tetsutetsu,” Tokyami said. She didn’t have the facial structure for a smile, but it sounded like she was trying not to laugh or groan in frustration and had somehow managed to split the difference. “She usually has a handle on him.”

“And I’ll talk to Chihiro,” Todoroki added. “Perhaps she can influence him now.”

There was the strong suggestion in their tones that neither of them had much confidence in that endeavor. But Koharu really didn’t have the context to make any real guesses as to how it might turn out. It certainly sounded like there were a lot of potential tinder boxes waiting to go off. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that...

#my hero academia #their hero academia #my writing #fan fiction #fan fic #kenta sato #takuma sero #toshi midoriya #isamu haimawari #chihiro kaminari #koharu kocho

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siobhom · 5 years

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Fic: The winner takes it all (A Peraltiago kid halloween heist fic)

This is a @b99fandomevents fic written for @yaboring-yabasic

Thank you for the prompt, hope you enjoy!

“Heist! Heist! Heist!” she continues to chant as they wander around the neighbourhood, candy bags held tight as they adhere to Amy’s pre-made chart of whose doors they’re allowed to knock on.

And Amy’s already worrying about the impending tantrum when Jake whispers, “We should put a little fake heist on for her.”

And so they end up in the living room, Jake and Amy grinning widely at Mia, as Jake holds Mr Zebra up high and Amy declares, “The winner needs to find and hold onto Mr Zebra until the clock says three, do you remember what the number three looks like Mia?”

Read it on AO3 here

Amy knows she’s one of Miss Ryan’s favourite parents. Of course it’s a disadvantage that she doesn’t get as much face-time as the mums who get to do regular pick-ups and drop offs, but she likes to think she makes up for lack of quantity with quality. She volunteers to help out on school trips, science fairs, sports days and other activities and projects whenever she can, along with helping to organise them, a binder ready for every eventuality. She’s also very engaged in Mia’s learning and development (she also has binders for this but doesn’t show these to teachers anymore after previous incidents where they felt like Amy was telling them how to do their jobs) and tries to attend all of the little award ceremonies (or make sure Jake attends the ones she can’t).

There are a couple of marks on her record, like the one time she had to pull out of helping with a play at the last minute due to a break in a case, and Jake had also been undercover that week, she had gotten Rosa to attend. And while Amy knew Mia was more than happy with that (probably happier than actually seeing her parents there, who praised everything she did and therefore were not difficult to impress, whereas impressing her favourite tia Rosa actually meant she had done something that was worth being impressed over) she had felt Miss Ryan’s judgement. There was also the time that she had gotten over-excited about a project and sent too many emails at once. But Amy has used her Most-likely-to-befriend-a-school-administrator spirit to maintain a good rapport with Miss Ryan and has regular discussions with her about Mia’s progress.

She has no reason to suspect this discussion will be any different to the usual ones. Okay, so it’s in person, which is a little out of the ordinary, especially at this point in the year where there aren’t any parent-teacher conferences and there’s nothing coming up that needs planning. But Amy thinks it’s probably just about something good Mia has done. She’s not worried.

Well, she’s not worried until Miss Ryan asks, in a gentle voice,

“Are you and Jake having problems of some kind?”

Amy tenses and Jake sits up straighter in his chair.

“No. Not at all, why, what’s going on?”

“Mia has expressed upset that you are making her choose between the two of you…”

“That’s… I don’t understand… We’re not fighting and even if we were… we would never!”

“…She said something about a Halloween Heist.”

“Oh.”

Amy’s immensely shocked and horrified (both that they’ve clearly caused Mia a lot of distress with their questionable actions and that she’s definitely not going to be Miss Ryan’s favourite parent anymore).

“I am so sorry about this, of course we won’t involve Mia in the heist any further and we’ll have a discussion with her about this whole thing.”

Jake says, “Actually we won’t take part in the heist at all this year and that way we won’t even be tempted.”

His grin is too bright and Amy already knows where his head is (that he’s a terrible father just like his father was) but that’s a ledge she’ll have to talk him off later. Now, her focus is on Miss Ryan, and as much as she hates the idea of forgoing the heist altogether, Mia’s teacher is frowning a little less and so Amy reluctantly agrees.

“Miss Ryan, we really are very sorry about this, I understand that some of our choices here have been questionable, and of course we take full responsibility and will do our best to fix the damage, but I hope you will give me a chance to explain the whole story. I really think that with full context you will understand a lot better,” Amy’s tone is slightly pleading and she gives Mia’s teacher an imploring look.

Miss Ryan has the same look on her face she gets when Amy has a New Plan that they both know is going to be very long.

“Of course, go ahead.”

And Amy sends her an apologetic look, because it is a long story, starting seven whole years ago.

----

Seven years earlier

After a long day of baby-friendly Halloween craft activities and trick-or-treating, Amy’s lounging on the couch, drinking coffee and waiting for her energy to pick back up: it’s heist time. All they have to do is wait for the baby-sitter. And then her cell starts ringing. She answers to the sound of coughing and spluttering, followed by the baby-sitter saying in a weak tinny voice,

“Ms Santiago, I’m very sorry, I’m sick.”

“So sorry to hear that sweetheart, I hope you feel better soon,” Amy says, hoping she’s masking her disappointment appropriately. She walks into the bedroom, where Jake is pretending he’s not doing something related to his heist-plan, “Baby-sitter’s sick.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So do you want to flip for who stays and who goes?”

“We should both stay,” Jake says.

Amy smiles. “That’s sweet, but there’s no reason for us to both miss out.”

Jake sends her a beaming smile in return.

A moment later, an idea strikes, and they both simultaneously say,

“Wait, did you plan this!?”

And

“You did this didn’t you!?”

“Me?” Jake retorts incredulous, “You’re the one who got a ‘phone call’ from the babysitter.”

“Yeah, a call clearly arranged by you! How much did you pay her to cancel?”

“Nothing. Because clearly the babysitter didn’t even call you.”

“Let’s call her back and find out.”

“Oh please, do you think I don’t know that you would have planned for that.”

“I suppose we’re at an impasse.”

“Yes, we are at an impasse,” Jake says with an eyebrow raise that says, look I used that big word correctly, we both know what that means, Amy just rolls her eyes in response, “I guess we’ll have to flip for it after all.”

They both inspect the coin thoroughly. Amy flips it and Jake calls, “Heads.”

“It’s heads,” Amy says, disappointment purposefully bleeding into her tone, if this is part of Jake’s plan she’s not letting him get away with it guilt-free.

“Yes! ...Wait; this is part of your plan too, isn’t it?” Jake accuses, “You want us all to think you’re not playing, just so you can go behind our backs again! Well I’m not falling for it! You go, I’m staying right here!”

“Or maybe that’s exactly what your plan is! I’m staying here.”

“I guess we’ll just have to both stay here then!”

“Yeah, I guess we will!”

They pause, both frowning.

“We could take her with us?”

“Ooh, yes. Let’s do that.”

They draw up a timetable of when they will take turns looking after her, it requires a lot of negotiation, mainly over the last half an hour of the heist (which they’ve ended up having to split into six minute slots, Jake has Mia for the final twelve minutes in exchange for Amy having her for the first half hour of the heist).

“This is the final schedule,” Amy says, “there will be no deviations, except that we are each allowed one emergency handover which can be used at any time up until the final hour of the heist.”

Amy, never one to forgo an opportunity, discretely plants a bug on Mia. Mia happily toddles near Amy, not understanding what’s going on but clearly enjoying the energy of the whole game. She almost regrets having to hand her over to Jake (she’s so adorable to watch).

As soon as Jake hands her back, Amy shuffles them to the evidence lock-up, retrieving the bug, and begins listening, she grins. Oh this is perfect! She laughs, loud and excited. And Mia joins her, clapping her hands together like only a toddler can.

“You’ve done very good work,” she tells her daughter, “well done.”

Mia claps more, squealing with laughter.

It’s then that Amy hears it; Jake planting a recording device of his own. She shakes her head, immediately rewinding and messing with the recording, she can definitely use this to spread misinformation, she smiles at Mia, telling her, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Six years earlier

“Heist!” Mia says the next year, eyeing the Halloween decorations as Jake puts her in her tiger costume.

“Heist! Heist! Heist!” she continues to chant as they wander around the neighbourhood, candy bags held tight as they adhere to Amy’s pre-made chart of whose doors they’re allowed to knock on.

And Amy’s already worrying about the impending tantrum when Jake whispers, “We should put a little fake heist on for her.”

Mia nods vigorously and enthusiastically.

Jake and Amy don’t put much effort into pretending to look, after all Mia is too busy running around looking for her stuffed toy to notice or care.

And later, she points to the three on the clock as she proudly clutches Mr Zebra.

Her parents clap and cheer. They tell Mia they love her, and put their coats on just as the babysitter takes her own off.

And their daughter is young enough that most kids her age wouldn’t question what’s happening here. But unfortunately, little Mia has inherited all of her parents detective instincts.

Her face falls.

“Heist?” Mia asks; her voice small.

But she doesn’t start bawling or throwing a tantrum, both things her parents could deal with. Instead she gives them a deeply disappointed look, that’s equal parts hurt someone-just-poked-his-abandonment-issues Jake (that Amy is powerless in the face of) and stressed an-authority-figure-expressed-dissatisfaction-in-her Amy (that Jake is powerless in the face of).

And so they cancel the baby-sitter and they both search her for recording devices three times before leaving.

Amy’s too focused on her plan to see how it happens, but somehow the heist ends like this:

Jake successfully gets Mia to run across the room to him carrying the heist object (a blue shoe). Amy’s enthralled- her heart filling up as she watches her daughter run with joy and determination. And as Jake swirls Mia around in celebration, both laughing a little uproariously, Amy thinks it’s almost worth losing.

Five years earlier

Mia’s just as excited the following year and this time they don’t even bother booking a baby-sitter, it’s understood that she’ll be coming with them.

Two thirds into the heist Mia gets her hands on the prize, a gold medallion, and starts caterwauling any time anyone even tries to take it off her.

“This is cheating. We should disqualify both of them,” Rosa says, pointing at Jake and Amy.

“I have nothing to do with this, if anyone should be disqualified it should be Jake!” Amy exclaims.

“Let’s just get the thing off of her,” Jake says, waving a peanut butter cup in her face, and then Mr Zebra, and then an Ipad showing her favourite episode of Doc Mcstuffins. Mia doesn’t budge. “Mia,” her husband says in a sing-song voice, “if you give me the shiny thing I will take you to Disneyland.”

“Jake!” Amy admonishes.

“Don’t act like you didn’t start this,” Jake replies.

“It’s got to be Amy!” Charles says.

“Unless Jake’s bluffing and he’s promised to actually only take her to Disneyland if she doesn’t give it up,” Rosa says.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s still a baby!” Terry says, “She’s probably just more interested in the shiny thing.”

“Or maybe Terry’s behind this whole thing, he got to her, just like he got to Cheddar,” Amy says.

And so the argument goes on and on and on.

Mia hands over the medallion to Amy with a minute left on the clock.

Four years earlier

“I’m a big girl and I’m going to decide what I do this year,” Mia states, and then quoting one of her favourite TV characters says, “I am a strong, indepeppendent, team player!”

“Of course you are sweetheart, it’s pronounced independent by the way.”

“In-de-pen-dent.”

“Very good. Well done.”

“What’s your plan mummy?” she asks.

“Daddy, I’m secretly on your team,” Mia whispers way-too-loud, but both of them pretend Amy hasn’t heard it even though they know she has.

“Mummy, I told daddy I’m secretly on his team but I’m actually secretly on your team!” Again, she’s well within Jake’s hearing range and the both of them smile indulgently.

Three years earlier

Mia is solidly team Jake. They make the best team: they are going to win. She has a little binder and everything. She says with her binders and his ridiculous spontaneous (and yes, she can pronounce it correctly) ideas they will be unstoppable.

Two years earlier

Mia is solidly team Amy (because daddy is a loser who made her lose).

One year earlier

Mia is solidly team Jake until an hour before the end when- in an act of ruthless betrayal- she reveals she’s been on team Amy all along.

----

“I see,” Miss Ryan says once the tale is done, seemingly happier now, “That makes more sense. I know that to adults it may seem like it’s just teams for a game, but children, especially at Mia’s age, when greater understanding of the world around them and concepts of empathy are becoming more fully formed, can be particularly sensitive to such things. Just be aware of that in the future.”

“Of course,” Amy says as Jake nods vigorously.

And so, on the 31st, Jake and Amy are sat snuggled on the couch, with a bad horror movie ready to play and mugs of hot chocolate warming their hands. And a bowl of candy ready for trick-or-treaters.

It’s pleasant, Amy thinks. “I’m so tempted to go to the heist right now,” she says.

“We can’t!”

“Mia’s not even here, she doesn’t ever have to know.”

“I still can’t believe she abandoned us to go trick-or-treating with Cagney and Lacey and Ava, we’re awesome at trick-or-treating!”

“I know! Our baby girl is growing up.”

“So the heist?”

“No, you’re right, we can’t. She’ll find out and then she’ll feel left out and she won’t tell anyone the next time she’s upset about something.”

“Cool, cool, cool.”

They watch the movie. Amy laughs at Jake’s commentary and temporarily forgets about the heist entirely.

Jake and Amy both get up when they hear Cagney knock on the door, ready to great them and admire their respective candy hoards.

The last thing they expect is Mia grinning, holding up a trophy and exclaiming, “Suck it, losers!”

“What…what is happening?!”

Mia grins smugly, “I won the heist!”

Amy flitters between absolute outrage and absolute pride.

(And part of her is annoyed with herself because she really should’ve seen this coming. After all Mia has inherited all of her competitiveness and all of Jake’s competitiveness).

Before she can formulate words, Jake says, “Our baby girl really is growing up!”

“I know!” she replies, before turning to Mia, “Well played, congratulations!”

“Yeah, congrats! You earned this!” Jake adds.

“Thank you,” Mia says, doing an elaborate victory dance.

Amy hovers in Mia’s doorway that night, “You know your dad and I love you very much and we’re both very proud of you, not just for today.”

“I know mum.”

Amy continues, “Having said that. At next year’s heist, I’m going to destroy you.”

Mia smirks. “Not if I destroy you first.”

#b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #b99fandomevents #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #fic #my peraltiago stuff #my jake peralta stuff #my amy santiago stuff #my brooklyn 99 stuff

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chicgeekgirl89 · 4 years

Text

Breaking Down Doors: Chap. 2

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Sonny Quinn, Lisa Davis

Read Chapter 1 Here!

A/N: This chapter takes place right after “Unbecoming an Officer.”

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It was probably inevitable that he found himself banging on Lisa’s door at two in the morning. He was mid-knock when she wrenched it open from the inside. “Sonny? What are you doing here?”

She looked surprised and a little bit annoyed but he didn’t let that dissuade him as he pushed past her into the apartment. “I came to find out why the hell you didn’t call and tell me you were in jail.”

He’d left the bar an hour ago and driven in circles until he couldn’t take it anymore. His mind was buzzing and his skin felt so tense he wanted to crawl out of it. She’d gone to jail and there hadn’t even been so much as a phone call. To any of them. He wasn’t leaving until he knew why.

“Please come on in.” Lisa’s voice held sharp notes of sarcasm as she closed the door behind him. “Is there some reason you couldn’t ask me this at the bar? You had to show up here in the middle of the night and make a big scene instead?”

“Lisa!” She was avoiding the question and he was too twisted up to be graceful about how he dealt with it.

She crossed her arms, eyes narrow and fierce. “I had it handled.”

“Oh did you? How? By ignoring it and pretending it would go away? And then when it didn’t just going belly up without defending yourself? Is that how you had it handled?”

“What should I have done differently Sonny? Please, you’re the expert on bad drinking behavior, so go ahead, tell me. What exactly would you have done?”

“This ain’t about me!”

“You’re right, it’s not!” she snapped. “So I’m not sure why you came barging over here in the middle of the night acting like it’s any kind of your business how I handle myself and my career!”

“It might not be my business but it damn well should be yours!”

“I told you, I had it handled!”

“YOU DID NOT HAVE IT FUCKING HANDLED!” he roared.

“You know what?” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and glared at him defiance. “If you just came here to yell at me you can get the fuck out.”

“I didn’t—“ He ran a hand across his face in frustration and tried to lower his voice as he realized how aggressive he was coming across. “I didn’t come over to yell at you.”

“Then why? You made it pretty clear you didn’t want to be involved in my life anymore. Why the sudden interest?”

“Just answer the question!”

“I didn’t need help.”

He was tired of being put off. “God damn it Lisa! You have been acting like the weight of the entire fucking Navy is on your shoulders for months. If you believe for one second that we would have left you hanging on this, that if you’d called Brock or Trent or Clay and asked for help they would’a turned you down, you’re out of your god damn mind.”

She laughed grimly. “You can say that all you want, but when it comes down to it, I can’t just go to them the way you can. Not anymore. Being an officer changed things.”

“Then you should have called me!”

“Sonny you and I haven’t had a real conversation in months. I didn’t call you because we’re not friends anymore, which was your choice, not mine. You wanted me out of your personal life so I’m out.”

She’d thought he wanted her out when all he’d wanted, all he’d needed, was some space to breathe, to try and untangle the mess she’d made of his heart. He shook his head. “I didn’t mean for you to go and do something like this.”

“What do you want to hear?” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “That this was some kind of desperate cry for help? That losing you sent me into some sort of spiral? Hate to disappoint, but you’re not that special. I just screwed up. That’s it. Someone with your track record should understand that.”

She was hitting below the belt and it was working. “This ain’t—this ain’t you Lisa. We broke up because of the job. And then you just go and throw it away?” he asked.

“I didn’t throw it away! I didn’t—“ she worked her jaw, struggling for words, “I didn’t know what to do. I’m a woman in the Navy. I have fought my entire life to get where I am. And I knew that if I got called up for disciplinary action they probably wouldn’t see past my gender. I was just trying to figure out what to do and I ran out of time.”

She wasn’t wrong. He’d seen the inside of the bars a couple times, so had some of the other guys. It had never ended in anything more than a slap on the wrist. Granted she was an officer now and there were more serious consequences attached to her pay grade, but he’d seen other women ousted for less.

“That’s what you have us for,” he said quietly. “To figure things out when you can’t.”

“You all have to trust me with your lives. I can’t go around broadcasting to everybody that I’ve made a mistake.”

“Yes, you can. We’ve all been there. Nobody would have thought any less of you,” he said. “So next time, call. The team bail fund covers you just as much as anybody. We couldn’t do this without you.”

“Is that what you came over here for tonight? To tell me that the team needs me?”

Her question caught him off guard. “I…yeah. I guess so.”

His response brought her hackles back up. “You guess so? What kind of answer is that Sonny?”

“Listen Lisa, you were right. I shouldn’t even be here. I’ll get outta your hair.” He was just starting to realize what a mistake it had been to come here. He was opening them back up to a world of hurt and he needed to go before things went any further.

He turned to open the door but she grabbed his arm. “No! You don’t get to just barge in here and demand answers from me then walk away. Tell me why you really came over here. What, you just needed to blow off some steam?”

“No.”

“You felt guilty? You needed me to tell you that this wasn’t your fault?”

“Lisa I—“

“Well then what was it Sonny? Why are you here? This isn’t your problem, so why are you so upset about it?”

It was like lightning shot through the room. Before he could stop himself he turned and cupped her face in his hands, his lips finding hers in that familiar, intimate rhythm they’d perfected over so many months together. “I miss you,” he breathed when they pulled apart. “I miss you all day, every day. I pushed you away because I can’t—I can’t be close to you without wanting to drag you out of the room and kiss you until the sun comes up.”

She took in a sharp breath eyes locked on his as he continued. “When Jason told us that you were in trouble, all I could think about was getting back here to you. Because I think some of this is my fault. And I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you like that.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “And I promised myself I wouldn’t mess around with us anymore so I’m sorry. I should…I should go.”

But she grabbed the front of his shirt, dragging him back, pressing her mouth to his once more. His fingers threaded into her hair and he pulled her into his chest as she tightened her grip on him. She always fit so perfectly in his arms and having her pressed up against him for the first time in weeks lit his blood on fire.

Somehow they ended up on the couch, Sonny’s back going into the cushions as Lisa continued to kiss him like it was the only thing keeping her alive. “Lisa,” he managed, “we said we wouldn’t—“

“Please,” she whispered, voice thick with need. “Please I just—please.”

He should have stopped it there. He should have walked away and let a clearer head prevail. But he wanted her, he always wanted her, and when she began tugging off his shirt and reaching for his belt, he didn’t stop her. Instead he let the clock rewind to six months before, moving his body with hers as if no time had passed at all.

“You want to tell me how you got arrested now?” he asked later, when they were both wrapped up in one another’s arms, the familiar warmth of her pressed up against his side.

Despite their heated conversation he still wasn’t satisfied that she was telling the whole story. Something was hurting her and if he could figure out how to fix it, he was going to.

“Sonny we already talked about it.”

“We talked about what happened after. I want to know how you got there in the first place.”

She sighed. “I’d had a few. More than I usually would alone. A couple of guys started getting handsy, so I hit back. The cop grabbed me from behind, didn’t identify himself, so I just swung. Got him right in the nose. They took me in and that was it.”

“D’you break his nose?” he asked, a smile quirking his lips.

“Not the point Sonny.”

“Right. Yeah.” He rubbed a hand gently up and down her arm. “Something happen with Ronnie? Is that why you were drinking alone?”

She hesitated. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said. He’d pushed enough and he wasn’t going to force her, even if he thought she had something she needed to get off her chest.

“I know.” She seemed to be weighing her choices. They’d just cracked open Pandora’s box, again, and neither of them quite knew where the line was anymore. “I was supposed to meet her family. And then at the last second it just…it didn’t happen. I guess she’s not ready. And after all this I don’t know if it’ll ever happen.”

“She’s your sister,” Sonny said, “she’ll come around.”

“You don’t know Ronnie.”

“I know you. And if she doesn’t want to, that’s her loss,” he said firmly.

She grew so quiet that he thought she might have fallen asleep. “I’m really glad you came over,” she finally said.

Maybe in the morning when he had to walk away and leave her here, maybe then he would start to feel the guilt creeping in. But for now he just kissed her bare shoulder one more time and let himself be content.

#SEAL Team #Savis #Sonny Quinn #Lisa Davis #Breaking Down Doors #Unbecoming an Officer #SEAL Team Fanfic #Chapter 2 #Finally #Literally think this one took years off my life #Savis Fanfiction

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taronfanfic · 5 years

Text

Rewind

Masterlist

Chapter 28

As you washed away the grubby feeling of the night before you found a small smile that was refusing to leave your face. The thought of spending time with Taron didn’t fill you with dread anymore. He seemed so genuine, kind, caring and totally honest with you that you were struggling not to forgive him. You forced the image of him shielding his flat from you into your mind as you closed your eyes and let the water flow down your body. You let the scene you’d created play out, placing the girl you saw that night on his sofa and watching on as he closed the door to you and returned to her, climbing over her body and kissing her passionately. You focused in on their faces, making him look at her lovingly before he kissed her again, open mouthed with lots of tongue. It didn’t matter how many times you made it happen, the pain you’d felt that night wouldn’t return to your chest. It was the only thing that would convince you to walk away from Taron again, but you just didn’t feel it. You believed him when he said it was a mistake, you knew he was sorry, and knowing he still wanted you gave you a buzz of excitement that you couldn’t ignore.

Standing in front of his wardrobe wearing nothing but a towel gave you a massive hit of déjà vu. You knew exactly where to look and took out a pair of Taron’s boxers and tracksuit bottoms before also grabbing a t-shirt and throwing on his hoodie that had been left on the floor. The smell of it mixed with the scent of his shampoo that you’d used and enveloped you in memories of sleeping right next to him. It gave you a sense of peace which kept your earlier fears at bay.

“Perfect timing!” Taron pulled you back from your happy memories as you closed his bedroom door behind you and watched him place down two plates which were completely full with everything your hungover body was craving.

“Wow. The smell in here is heavenly.” You walked into his kitchen and stood next to him as you admired the breakfast he’d cooked and clocked the kettle steaming away.

“I’ve got you the biggest mug I could find because I know you’re a tea guzzler on a hangover.” He slid the mug along the worktop and then placed his arm around your shoulders casually. It was all too natural for you to wrap your arm around his back and lean in to his side and it had happened without you realising it. Once you registered you were there you couldn’t pull back, so you gave in entirely and turned your body into his to give him a proper hug.

“You’re the best.”

“I don’t want to speak to soon, but… I feel like I’ve got my best friend back already.” You could hear the smile in his voice as you continued to hold onto him.

“Don’t hold your breath, I’ve not tasted your cooking yet!” You teased as you let go of him and took one of the plates over to his small dining table. He finished making the tea and then sat down opposite you, watching you eat for a moment longer and smiling to himself before he picked up his cutlery.

“This is really surreal. I half want to stab myself with my fork to check I’m not dreaming.”

“Please don’t, that would put me right off my food and this is too good to waste.”

“Thanks.” He laughed softly. “Can I ask what it was that changed your mind? After last night I was sure you’d be out of here first thing, even after everything I said.”

“You may have to… repeat what you said.” You felt yourself blushing in embarrassment and tried to hide your eyes with your hand as you rubbed over your forehead. “I don’t remember much at all, just feeling really sick and dizzy.”

“You were definitely both of those things and determined to leave when I was trying to look after you. I got you into bed eventually and sat with you until you were asleep, told you how much I care about you. That whatever happens I still want you to be part of my life, even if that’s just as a friend…” It was obvious that Taron was paraphrasing and holding back this time around and you wished you were able to remember more. You looked straight into his eyes, willing him to elaborate and leave your heart fluttering but he stayed quiet.

“Well maybe it went straight to my subconscious mind instead because I woke up feeling very forgiving. I don’t want you to suffer over what happened anymore. I believe that it was a stupid mistake and something you’ll regret for a long time, and I forgive you for it.” Taron looked totally overwhelmed by your words. He placed his cutlery to the sides of his plate and ran both his hands over his head.

“Wow, are you sure?” You nodded back to him with a smile and he started to grin. “Thank you, Y/N. You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to hear that from you. Honestly, I didn’t know what else to do. The boys kept telling me to give it time, but my gut said you’d hate me forever.”

“The girls want me to hate you forever, but I can’t do that.”

“They’re just being protective over you and I’m pleased they’ve had your back.”

“They’ve been amazing, and I’ve been a mess.” You chuckled to yourself. “I can’t believe I let myself get in that state last night and still managed to end up here and not in that other guy’s bed.”

“I think I’m more relieved than you about that one, especially after how terrible your last one night stand choice was!”

“Oh god!” You stopped eating and covered your mouth as you remembered. “It was his friend! That’s why I came home, or nearly home, his mate was the terrible shag and I didn’t want to risk another one like it.”

“Are you serious?!” Taron laughed loudly and shook his head in disbelief.

“Don’t. Even the thought of it is mortifying… I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you. It’s destined to end badly!”

The silence hit both of you at the same time as you realised what you’d said. Your eyes locked onto his as you looked up from your plate, too scared to move another muscle.

“I… I just meant.” You paused as no explanations came to mind.

“Don’t.” Taron leant in and reached forward, waiting for you to take hold of his hand, but gave up quickly when you left him hanging and placed his palm down to the table instead. “Stop trying to run from this, Y/N.”

“I’m not. I just… you have no idea how hard it is to be sat here right now.” Your fingers ran through your damp hair as you lifted it up to the back of your head. “It’s so fucking conflicting, and everything is simple for you.”

“I wish it was.” He sighed as he sat back and sipped his tea instead. “If I put one foot wrong, say something in the wrong tone or come across as too forward you’ll be out that door in a flash and probably won’t speak to me again for at least another week.”

“That’s not true. I decided not to run earlier so we’re having this out, one way or the other, until it’s done.”

“Just be honest with me then. Tell me what you’re feeling, what you’re thinking, so I don’t have to keep second guessing.” Taron held onto your eye contact, still trying to read you as you thought over how to answer him.

“I feel really fucking vulnerable.” You felt the tears building in your eyes as you caved in and let your guard down to him. “I can’t switch off the feelings I had for you, it doesn’t work like that, so obviously I still like you. I can’t help but gravitate towards you because you made me feel something I’ve not felt in years. But it’s hard because you really hurt me, Taron.” You paused and took a shaky but deep breath as you wiped your tears from your cheeks. “It’s like a self-preservation thing because I’d be stupid to let it all happen again. I don’t want to be that girl.”

“You wouldn’t be. I’ll promise you now that I’d never let that happen.” He got up from his chair and you turned to the side as he moved around to crouch down in front of you. “I’ll never do anything like that again, we just need to start over and I know we can have something incredible. We both still feel it.” He placed his hands on your thighs. “I think you’re amazing. You’re beautiful, funny, caring-”

“Taron,” You cut him off with a smile as you ran your fingers through the top of his hair. “Enough. I want us to get back to what we had, or start over again too, but-” He dropped his head down as soon as you said the word ‘but’. “Look at me.”

“Don’t say it.” His eyes pleaded up at you.

“I just need to settle my head first. I want to go into it with certainty so there’ll be no doubts to get in the way.”

“You’re always going to have doubts, no matter how much time you give it. It’s natural and I won’t blame you for them, just tell me when you feel them, and I’ll be here to reassure you.”

“I know, I know. This is all a lot though so just give me some time, please?” You stroked your thumb over his cheek as you held the side of his face.

“Okay.” He agreed softly as he leant in to your touch. “I’ll be waiting.”

Tag List: @egerton-sweetie @amanda-tallmadge@lizziespidiepridie@leanimal90@anantheminmyheart22@aynsleywalker@bohemianrhapsody86@butterfliesslugswormsandothershi@manners-maketh-taron@livingincompletesilence@marvelmakeuplover@ohsosmutty@misspygmypie @manners-maketh-a-kingsman@courtmr@baileythepenguin@thomaslefteyebrow@witchymarvelspacecase @samanthasmileys

#Taron Egerton

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thewnchstrs · 6 years

Text

Hopeless

*not my gif

Pairing: DeanXreader

Disclaimers: mentions of self harm, self harm scars, crying, fluff

Word Count: 1,628

Masterlist

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“You really don’t want to swim, Y/N?” Dean shouted from the lake, his wet hair sticking to his forehead after Sam had dunked him under the freezing water.

I looked up from my phone, shielding my eyes from the sun to see them clearer since my sunglasses didn’t seem to be enough. I shook my head, “No, I’m good. The water’s freezing.”

“Aww, c’mon! You’ll get used to it!” Dean shouted back, a goofy smile playing on his face. My stomach twisted with uncertainty, subconsciously tugging down my shorts over my upper thighs, my still healing skin itching against the denim material.

“No, I’m...I’m alright.” I went back to my phone, praying that he wouldn’t prod any farther on the subject.

Even though he was just a smudge out in the middle of the water, I could practically see his shoulders fall slightly but nevertheless he let it go, continuing where him and Sam left off with tossing a football back and forth.

I sighed, relieved even if it was just momentarily. I discretely pulled the material of my shorts away to reveal the horizontal lines across my thighs, my fingers dancing across the upturned skin. They stared their ugly faces back up to me as if they were taunting me, daring me to do it just one more time-

“You alright?”

The voice nearly made me jump off of the towel on the sand, my heart pounding behind my ribcage. Sam towered over me as he reached for the sunblock laying a few feet away. Droplets of lake water rolled off of his nose and flung from his hair as he shook it around.

“Jesus, warn a girl next time.” I sputtered out, my hand clutched over my heart as I searched for my phone that had been in my hands not three seconds ago.

“Sorry,” Sam laughed, now reaching for his water bottle when he stopped in his tracks. I turned to look back at him, but his eyes seeming to get caught on the bright red lines across my thighs, his eyebrows cinched together in confusion.

My heart sunk as I quickly moved to roll the jeans back down, my throat beginning to knot at the thought of what I’d just allowed him to see.

“Y/N-”

I shook my head, “stop.”

“Y/N, what is that-”

“I said stop.” I nearly growled, making Sam flinch. There was no denying he knew what it was. His eyes desperately searched my face for some kind of explanation. I bit the inside of my lip, my eyes darting to where Dean was still in the water and then back to Sam who was now looking more concerned than I’d ever seen him. “Sam...Sam, please don’t tell Dean.”

His eyes widened slightly, “he doesn’t know?”

I didn’t answer him, ashamed of myself for letting this carry on for so long. I watched as he hung his head low between his shoulders, “you need to tell him, Y/N.”

“I know, I’ll get around to it-”

“No.” Sam said firmly, “You need to tell him tonight because if you don’t, I will.”

I was slightly taken back, “you wouldn’t-”

“I would.” He nodded, “I would tell him in a heartbeat, Y/N...you’re hurting yourself-”

“Okay,” I said, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “I’ll tell him tonight.”

Sam sighed, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder, an oddly comforting gesture. “Y/N...if you...if you ever need to talk about it. I’m here. I know how hard this life can be, and I- I may not be the first person you want to talk to, but I’m here.”

I willed myself to keep my tears at bay as I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything in fear of breaking down.

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The entire ride back to the bunker, my mind raced with all of the ways I could finally come clean to Dean. Any way I looked at it, I knew it was going to be one of the hardest things I’d have to admit to, and I’ve had to admit to a lot of things.

The nearly two and a half hour car ride back to the bunker seemed to fly by and before I knew it, we were pulling into the garage, Dean racing out of the car, “I call the shower first, there is sand in places sand should never be.”

This left Sam and I to unload the car, and I pretended not to notice the way he glanced at me every five minutes as if if he were to let me out of his sight too long I’d disappear completely.

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“Whatta ya say to a movie night, huh?” Dean asked as he came back from his shower, his body bathed in a beautiful tan, his freckles now seeming to protrude from his cheeks and nose like I’d never seen them before.

I cleared my throat, Sam glanced at me, probably knowing where this was headed, “Actually, can I talk to you for a second?”

Dean’s demeanor instantly changed, his face contorting into confusion and then to worry, “is everything alright?”

“Just...sit down,” I said, my voice coming out as a whisper.

Dean’s eyes bounced from me to Sam, unsure as he slowly sat down next to me and at the same time, Sam stood from his spot, “I’ll be in my room.”

Dean watched as his brother made his way down the hallway, I didn’t speak until I heard his door shut behind him, “Dean, I- I have to tell you something.“

He watched me carefully, taking my hands in his, rubbing the tops of them with his thumbs, “Y/N...what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

I breathed in deeply. I knew I had to tell him. “It’s just, um...I haven’t exactly been...feeling like myself lately, and I...I didn’t know how to tell you-”

My words began faltering, tears clouding my vision. I couldn’t even look at him, my eyes glued to our hands. I felt Dean’s hand on my cheek and I instinctively leaned into it, something that used to bring me so much comfort.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Please,” He shook his head, not even sure what he was pleaded for me to do. I blinked twice, trying to pull myself together when I realized that showing him might just be simpler.

I slowly pulled my hands from his, my shaky hands moving to the bottom of my shorts as I rolled them backwards, praying to every God out there that maybe this was all just a horrible dream.

However, as I watched Dean’s reaction, I was slammed back into reality. His tender fingers tracing the small incisions from all of those times I’d felt so useless.

“Y/N...Y/N please don’t tell me this is what I think it is.“ His voice was beginning to shake which only made me feel worse. I was the absolute worst human alive.

“I’m sorry,” I cried, “I’m so sorry.”

Before I could process it, Dean pulled me close to his chest, one hand on my back and the other on the back of my head. “Shhh, you don’t have to apologize.”

My tears stained his grey t-shirt, my heart shattering as I let out months of pent up anger and sadness. I clutched his shoulder as if he were a live preserver and I was stranded at sea.

After a while of letting me cry, Dean slowly pulled away, holding my face in his hands, he was so hurt. “I don’t understand...Help me to understand, baby.”

I clenched my jaw, wishing that I could rewind the clock, wishing I had never done this in the first place. I shook my head, because at this point I didn’t even know. “I was just so sad. And I don’t know why because I know I shouldn’t be- I have you and Sam and Cas and I have such a good life for a hunter but for some reason it just all seemed to catch up to me and I didn’t know how to deal with it and I just feel so hopeless-”

Dean pulled me in again, resting a soothing hand on my back. “I wish you would have come to me.”

“I know and I’m sorry-”

“Stop apologizing, Y/N. This isn’t your fault. How you feel, hell I feel that way too sometimes. You can’t help it, you can’t control it. I would never want you to apologize for something like this.”

Just the words seemed pull a weight off of my chest because he’d finally said what I had been desperate to hear for so long. This isn’t my fault.

“But hey,” Dean said, pulling me away again, his green eyes searching mine. So full of love and concern I could nearly drown. “You’re my girl, right? And I love you, I love you so much. And if you ever, ever start to feel this way again, I need you to tell me, okay? And it has to stop. It’s going to be hard, but you’ve accomplished harder things.”

At first, I was reluctant. Hurting myself was a way for me to feel human, a way for me to remember I was still alive. But as I looked into Dean’s eyes, the eyes I fell in love with at that food truck in Pennsylvania, I knew he was right. And I knew that when it came down to it, I would do anything not to hurt him again.

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Forever Tag List

Dean Tag List

@winchesterdemon67

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glorifiedgpjfic · 6 years

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Glorified G- Chapter 22

A/N Hey, so this chapter has a really brief bit about suicide but it’s not too graphic, just a heads up. Also, I really hope you’re enjoying this if you are please let me know :)

Hesitantly Joanne pulled out of the kiss for a breath she looked at Eddie and he looked slightly confused, his azure eyes shone under the harsh light of the kitchen, his expression didn’t change and it was then that Joanne knew she had fucked up.

“I’m sorry Eddie-” She started, a blush creeping onto her cheeks, “I shouldn’t have. Fuck, um- let’s just pretend it never happened, rewind five minutes- I was making coffee, here’s your coffee let’s go back to the sofa and act norm-” Joanne’s rambling was cut off by Eddie removing the coffees from her hands and placing them down on the table before wrapping his arms around Jo’s waist and pulling her in for another kiss. She froze initially, it’s a pity kiss. A short moment passed and she responded to the kiss, running a hand through Eddie’s hair and tugging him closer- he stood ever so slightly on his tiptoes to reach Joanne’s face he cupped her cheek and broke the kiss, he shot her a cheeky grin before leaning up to give her a peck on the lips and on the cheek. Joanne’s hand flew to her cheek where he had just kissed her, this didn’t feel real- this didn’t happen to her, she never got the good guy, she got the Theos of the world- the manipulative, controlling, ultimatum-giving shitheads of the world. She had never once dated someone on Eddie’s level, he was everything; he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, he was intelligent, he was talented, he was caring, and he had emotional intelligence too- he was the kind of guy who you could rely on, he was everything.

Eddie could feel a blush creeping up his neck as Joanne zoned out and stared at him, he was in a state of shock- what just happened? He doubted himself and feared that Joanne was projecting her anxiety from the day onto him, and looking for a distraction of some kind. He stared back at her in amazement, he noticed her left eye had seven brown freckles mixed in with the green and her other eye was green but had more blue intruding around the edge of the iris, he had never noticed it before but it was only now that he was stood a few inches away from her that he took in her features.

Joanne came back to reality and saw that Eddie had now grabbed his mug of coffee and was hesitantly sipping it, she took hers and took a sip- scrunching her face up as she did, the coffee had not cooled down as she had hoped it would, out of the corner of her eye she could see Eddie trying to silence a laugh. There was an awkward tension in the room which they could both feel, but Joanne being the true Brit that she is decided to throw in a wonderful question designed to clear the air or make things a hell of a lot worse,

“So, does this mean you um like me? Or was it a ‘you nearly died I feel sorry for you let’s kiss’ kiss?” She asked looking at her coffee as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, Eddie made his way back towards Joanne,

“Of course I like you, Jo, you’re my best friend! It meant whatever you want it to mean.” He said with a shy smile, Joanne stood with her jaw practically on the floor- did I just get friendzoned???? She felt much worse now, he doesn’t like her like that- she’s just a friend. What did she want it to mean? How did she feel about Eddie?

She knew she felt something for Eddie but she couldn’t tell whether she didn’t like being alone and wanted to fill the void of an empty apartment and an empty heart. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she liked Eddie but was it platonic or romantic, she didn’t want it to be a one-way feeling. She hadn’t had a relationship since Theo, she had had a few dates but they all went to shit due to them feeling intimidated by Joanne’s job. At one point she began questioning her sexuality, which she was sure everyone did at some point, she had even been on a few dates with women- she found those dates easier but she didn’t know if she wanted to pursue a relationship with another woman. But with Eddie there was definitely some sort of attraction, she knew it from the moment he ditched the guys to check in on her, but he was probably still recovering from his relationship with Beth- she didn’t want to be a rebound, and she certainly didn’t want to use Eddie to make herself feel loved and cared about.

“What did you want it to mean Ed?” She asked looking at the floor, he paused momentarily before replying,

“I dunno. I mean I feel like it wasn’t just a kiss- I don’t think you’re the kind of person to kiss any random guy.”

“You aren’t some random guy Eddie,” She smiled at him and he stepped towards her,

“Personally I enjoyed the kiss.” He said with a cheeky grin, “and I’d be more than happy to do it again.” He took Joanne’s hand in his, “but I want you to want to too, I know you’ve had a really rough day and you might not be thinking straight, so we can just chill and see how you feel tomorrow-” Jo smiled at him, he was such a fucking good guy. She glanced at the clock and noticed it was getting late, Eddie let out a yawn,

“Are you sleepy?” She asked and he nodded, “stay with me?”

“Are you sure?” He asked and Joanne nodded in confirmation,

“It’s riskier to drive tired than to drive drunk- So I’d rather you stayed.” She informed him, she smirked to herself, smooth. He didn’t protest, which Joanne was grateful for.

Eddie had offered to sleep on the couch which Joanne refused to allow,

“Eddie, that couch isn’t mine, it’s been here for fuck knows how long- and have you sat on it? It is so uncomfy, you’re fine sleeping with me. There’s plenty of space.” She led him to her room, and while she was brushing her teeth he stripped down to just his t-shirt and boxers, he crawled into bed and waited for Joanne. Joanne washed her face and wandered back to her room, Eddie’s eyes were shut and he was breathing deeply, he must’ve been tired. She slid in next to him, facing him and pulled the duvet over her, tucking it under her chin. She felt Eddie stir and he leaned over to her and kissed her cheek before lazily throwing an arm over her, she was thankful for the dark so he couldn’t see the blush that had appeared on her cheeks.

“C’mon Jo- you gotta pick, who dies- Eddie or Eleanor. If you shot me now I’d pull the trigger on one of em- so you pick. Or an even better alternative for me, you choose yourself, I’d love nothing more than to watch the life leave your eyes as you bleed out in front of two of your closest friends.” The unsub in front of Joanne laughed wickedly, “Or I could kill all three of you, decisions, decisions.” He moved his gun to stroke his chin although he was in thought, Joanne flicked the safety off on her gun and pulled the trigger, she had aligned the shot while he had spoken to her, she was aiming right at his head. His body fell to the floor, she hit him. She let out a breath of relief, then she heard the evil cackling, “Joanne Taylor, I didn’t think you’d kill him for me. Your own best friend. Good aiming sugar.” Joanne turned to the voice, where Eddie had stood the unsub was now standing, she looked at who she had just shot to see Eddie lying in a pool of blood.

“NO!” She howled, Eddie wrapped his arms around her instantly and began whispering to her, she woke up with wet cheeks- she looked up to see Eddie, “Oh thank god!” She whispered pulling Eddie close to her, she clung to him for dear life he planted a kiss on her forehead and stroked her hair, she bit her lip to hold in a sob that she refused to let out she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him as close to her as was humanly possible,

“What happened?” He asked and she explained the nightmare to her and he didn’t question her or interrupt, he simply reassured her that it wasn’t real and that he wasn’t going anywhere, he peppered her head with kisses as she fell asleep holding him. He didn’t move the whole night and neither did Joanne, she didn’t have any more nightmares after that.

When Joanne woke up again it was nearly time for work, and she suddenly felt uncomfortably warm, forcing her eyes open she looked to see Eddie was still holding her tightly to him and he had his face buried in between her shoulder and her neck, she had one arm under him which felt numb she grinned though feeling completely safe sleeping beside Eddie. She began playing with Eddie’s hair while he slept and watching him sleep, in a totally not creepy way. She couldn’t see his face due to the position they were in but she watched his body rising and falling with each breath he took, she nudged him lightly,

“C’mon Eddie, I need to get up.” She whispered in his ear, he let out a groan,

“Five more minutes.” She decided it wouldn’t hurt to have a few more minutes cuddling Eddie,

“Hm, okay.” She could feel him smiling and he nuzzled closer to her. Who knew Eddie was such a hugger. Thinking back to the first time she saw him sing she honestly pegged him as an angry not very affectionate smol bean, but then even after talking to him once she knew she was so wrong. Five minutes flew past and Jo tried to wake Eddie again,

“Morning Ed, you gotta wake up.” He let out a groan again and slowly opened his eyes, they rested on Joanne who was smiling at him he couldn’t help himself but to lean in and kiss her, their lips met and Joanne noticed that this kiss was more gentle and slow than last nights when they broke apart Eddie’s face was tinted with a red glow, Joanne smiled and leant in kissing him again, she went to get out of bed but he still had his arms wrapped around her,

“I don’t wanna get up as it is- you aren’t helping.” She laughed and he let out a chuckle,

“I could get used to waking up like this,” He grinned and Jo felt herself blushing so she looked away from him, “C’mere.” He whispered in a husky voice that made Joanne blush, she propped herself up with her elbows and he sat up enough to kiss her one final time,

“I seriously need to get ready now.” She grinned at him,

“Can I take you out tonight?” He asked and she nodded, while she was scurrying around like a Tasmanian devil Eddie simply watched from the bed, he heard her cursing from the bathroom, “What’s up?” He called she simply continued swearing,

“I don’t have any clean fucking pants, I hate fuckin pencil skirts!” She complained from the other room, she walked back into the bedroom brushing her teeth before rummaging in her wardrobe and pulling out a black pencil skirt and a maroon shirt, she grabbed some tights and underwear and disappeared to the bathroom, the shower ran for a few minutes then she returned now dressed. Eddie observed how the skirt hugged her curves, his gaze wandered up to her shirt which she was still buttoning up, her wet hair was already beginning to curl randomly. She grabbed a small makeup bag and ran off to the bathroom he looked at her alarm clock and noticed that she was really running late, she returned with her makeup done, she grabbed a pair of black court heels.

“Fuck- I’m gonna be late- shitty shit shit!” She mumbled as she threw her blazer on, “Do you want a lift to the studio, Ed?” She asked and he shook his head,

“It’s all good I’ll drive myself, you’re rushing.” He quickly threw his clothes back on and was ready to leave, he and Jo walked to their cars together, before she got in her car she ran around to him and quickly pulled him in for a kiss,

“I’ll pick you up at eight.” He told her and she nodded,

“I’ll see you tonight then,” She kissed him on the cheek before tottering back to her car.

She arrived at work a few minutes late and managed to sneak in undetected, she took a seat at her desk and hoped she wouldn’t be out in the field today due to the fact she was wearing heels and a skirt, William had told her that she was needed at the morgue to see whether an apparent suicide was actually suicide- a jolly day then.

She stopped at a small shop to buy some vapour rub to put under her nose to stop the smell of the body from reaching her, when she made it to the morgue she applied the vapour rub and made her way in, introducing herself to the medical examiner, Moira. Moira led her over to the table where the body was, Joanne rarely had to go to the morgue and it gave her the creeps every time. Moira paused briefly before lifting the white sheet off the body, it was a young woman with a gunshot to the head, Joanne examined the entry point and the trajectory of the bullet, she came to the conclusion that it was a suicide- and that was her cue to leave, she thanked Moira and made her way back to the office, stopping off for coffee on her way. Once she got back in her car it dawned on her that she had a date tonight, the first date in years- then she began panicking about what to wear, the standard pre-date ritual. She got back to the office and managed to find some paperwork to do and William had a couple of conference calls that he called her in to help with, so it was a chilled day which was what she needed after yesterday. William and Eleanor had tried to force her to go home but she had refused because it would mean she’d be alone with nothing to do but dwell on the events.

The day flew by which Joanne was thankful for, and before she knew it she was getting ready for her date. She decided to leave her hair as it was, as for once it was actually curled nicely. She took her makeup off from work and did it properly, with foundation and a shimmery eyeshadow, she threw on some mascara and a bit of lipstick that was slightly darker than her natural lip colour. Then she wandered back to her wardrobe and began looking for something to wear, she didn’t know how dressy to go so she settled for a short black dress and her leather jacket and docs, just as she finished fastening her docs there was a knock at the door, she swung the door open to reveal Eddie in a black top with his corduroy jacket and black jeans, in his hand he held a large bunch of sunflowers, he handed them to Jo while looking at the floor bashfully,

“Thank you, Eddie, how’d you know sunflowers were my favourite?” She gave him a peck on the cheek, before turning to put the flowers in a vase,

“You told me when you came to San Diego,” He mumbled, why was he all shy all of a sudden,

“You remember from then? Jeez, I don’t even remember telling you.” She turned back to face him and he looked her over briefly,

“I remember most things you tell me, you look stunning Jo.” He smiled, she walked over and pulled him into a hug, she could tell how nervous he was,

“Eddie, it’s only me- you don’t need to be so on edge.” She gave him a warm smile which he returned, “So where are we going, Mr Vedder?” She asked.

“It’s a surprise!” He grinned.

#eddie vedder #eddie vedder fanfic #eddie vedder fanfiction #pearl jam #pearl jam fanfiction #pearl jam fanfic #grunge fanfiction #grunge fanfic #jeff ament #dave abbruzzese #mike mccready #stone gossard #fanfic

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olicitysecretsanta · 6 years

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Freeze Frame, Pause, Rewind, Stop

Hi, Ali ( @olicitysmoaky ) :-) Happy holidays and also happy belated birthday!!! You’ll see that I pretty much completely missed the mark concerning your suggestions (even though I did avoid your no-nos!), but I hope you’ll still enjoy this little monster of a fic!! This one may take some time to get through, but I’ve had a blast writing it and just couldn’t seem to stop myself ;-) Happy reading, happy holidays and a happy new year!! -Bri @bri617aroundtheworld

P.S.: Title inspired by P!nk’s song “For Now”

⁂⁂⁂

Felicity brushed a few errand snowflakes off her coat when she stepped into Table Salt. The upscale restaurant was bustling with positive energy and laughter-filled chatter. She hadn’t been here very often, due to the fact that it was quite expensive, but the few business dinners she’s had here were making her lick her lips in anticipation of the delicious food and wine, despite the big question mark that was her date for the night.

Gosh, there were so many things she’d rather be doing on the second night of Hanukkah.

A few years ago, she’d sworn to her best friend she’d never go on another blind date in her life, but when her grandma had sprung this thing on her earlier in the day, she’d found herself unable to say no.

“Good evening, Miss. Welcome to Table Salt,” the maître d’ greeted her with a kind smile, motioning for an attending to take her coat. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Hi, thank you. I have a reservation. Smoak, table for two?” she replied, hoping her grandma’s instructions were correct. How in the world she got a last minute reservation here was beyond her.

His eyes lit up in recognition and he nodded eagerly. “Ah, yes, of course, Ms. Smoak. Your dinner companion arrived a few minutes ago. If you follow me, I’ll be happy to show you to your table. Right this way.”

Quickly falling in stride with the older man, she swallowed down the new wave of nervousness that threatened to pull her under. Her date was already here. So much for her plan to take a few minutes to settle in, maybe enjoy a glass of wine to calm her nerves.

Weaving through the already occupied tables, she was too absorbed with not tripping and making sure her dress wasn’t riding up, otherwise she might’ve seen the train wreck coming. But by the time she arrived at her table and her eyes fell on her supposed dinner companion, it was already too late.

No fucking way.

This must be a mistake.

She will kill her grandma.

“Mr. Queen, your dinner companion has arrived,” the maître d’ alerted the man sitting at her table, who was focused on his phone. Of course, he was. Ignorant asshole.

Seemingly on autopilot, he got up from his chair, still typing away on his device before finally looking up when the maître d’ turned back to her, pulling out her chair. “Please have a seat, Ms. Smoak. Your grandmother already arranged for you to be served our classic three-course house special, but I’ll send a waiter your way to take your drink orders. Have a pleasant evening.”

She didn’t even have time to protest or bring up her hope that this was a misunderstanding before the older man vanished, probably sensing the immense displeasure radiating from both of them.

From across the table, slunk down in his chair again, Oliver stared at her in shock. “Felicity?”

“The one and only.”

Ugh, what a stupid thing to say. But before she could go on an epic ramble to correct her lame statement, the jerkwad opposite her cut in.

“Are you sure you’re at the right table? I’m supposed to meet someone.”

“Am I sure that my grandmother somehow managed to guilt-trip me into a blind date with the one guy I’d never voluntarily go on a date with?” she asked exasperatedly, silently cursing her conniving grandma. “Unfortunately, the answer to that is yes.”

“Wait. Your grandma… and my grandma… set us up?” he probed, eyebrows drawn together as he put two and two together.

“Seems like it,” she agreed, the beginnings of a headache settling in the back of her skull. “What did your grandma tell you?”

“That she wagered a date with me in a round of poker with her friends and she lost, so I had to come here to meet the granddaughter of one of her friends.”

“Yup. That sounds familiar.”

Damnit, grandma.

⁂ ⁂⁂ ⁂⁂⁂ 5 hours earlier

“You did what?”

“I won you a date with a very nice young man,” her grandma told her again with a calm voice, like this was something that happened every day.

“That’s not a thing, bubbe. You don’t just win dates for your granddaughter, or anyone else for that matter. People meet and decide to go on dates, not have it decided for them like they’re just two pawns in a game of chess.”

“What was I supposed to do? It was Gloria’s idea. She ran out of money during our poker night and asked if it was okay to wager a date with her grandson. Everybody agreed that it was fine, because, of course, we’ve all seen pictures of him and I knew he was just the right guy for you. It took some serious bluffing to get everybody else to fold, but you don’t mess with a Vegas girl.”

“And now, I have to go on a date with some guy I’ve never met before?”

“How’s that different from all those dating snaps you young people have?”

“Dating apps,” Felicity sighed. “And I wouldn’t know, because I don’t use them.”

“Which is why you haven’t got laid in way too long,” her grandma mumbled nonchalantly.

“Bubbe!” She turned to the older woman with wide eyes.

“Oh, come on, honey, it’s not a secret that you haven’t had sex since you broke up with that Willy guy almost a year ago, is it?”

How did she even know that?

“His name was Billy, and who says I haven’t had sex since him? And oh my god, why am I actually talking about this with you?”

“It’s healthy to talk about sex, sweetheart. I have no idea where you got your prudishness from.”

Not from your part of the family, that much is clear.

“Can we stop talking about my sex life and get back to the problem at hand? I don’t wanna go on a date with this mystery grandson of your friend. How do you know he’s a nice guy? Every grandmother loves their grandchildren and boasts about them. So, what if this guy is actually the biggest creep? What if he’s a criminal? At least give me his name, so I can run a quick background check on him.”

“I promise you that he’s a good guy, Felicity. I wouldn’t ask you to go on this date with him otherwise.”

“But why should I go in the first place? I’m sure this guy is just as unhappy to be a pawn in his grandmother’s game as I am. Can’t we just skip the inevitable awkwardness and get to the never seeing each other part already?”

“Because you never go out anymore. You just work, work, and work even more. And I’m worried you’ll look back in a few years and regret not having been more spontaneous and only concentrating on your work and being unhappy,” her grandma insisted, patting her cheek gently.

That gave her some pause. Yes, she was definitely working a lot at the moment, being no stranger to clocking 14 and 15 hours every day, even throwing in a few Saturdays every month. But that didn’t automatically equal being unhappy.

“I love you, bubbe, I really do. And I love that you worry about me, but you really don’t have to,” she replied calmly, hoping her grandmother could tell she was being absolutely serious. “I love my job. I love most of my colleagues. I get to make a difference in the world and that makes me happy.”

“But wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to share that happiness with? Someone to come home to? Someone to share your success with?”

“Nice? Sure. But not necessary. I’m happy being single right now.” Before her grandma could object, she quickly added, “That’s not to say I wanna stay single forever, but, at the moment, I don’t have the time to be in a relationship.”

For a second, it looked like she’d actually managed to convince Freida Smoak. Just for a second. “Fine, no relationship then. But what about casual sex? Surely, you can make some time for that…”

“Oh my god,” Felicity exclaimed, more exasperated than ever, turning to the third Smoak woman in the room who’d remained suspiciously silent throughout this extremely uncomfortable conversation. “Some help, mom?”

“Sure, honey,” Donna said with a serene smile. “Should I put two or three condoms in your purse?”

“You’re both unbelievable,” Felicity groaned, finally resigning herself to the fact that she couldn’t win an argument against the two of them when they ganged up on her like this. “When and where am I meeting this guy?”

It was just one date. What could possibly go wrong?

⁂⁂⁂ ⁂⁂ ⁂

⁂⁂⁂ ARROW ⁂⁂⁂

“I think I’ll just leave,” Felicity contemplated out loud, gaining his attention. “We can just lie to them and say we had a decent time, but nothing more would come of this. Right? Then we don’t have to sit here and pretend not to have a miserable time with each other.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow at her and let his eyes glide past her, hastily pasting on a fake smile that he hoped looked like he was having a good time. “Too late, because my grandma and mother just walked in and they definitely saw us,” he pressed out between gritted teeth.

“Why would your grandma and mother be here?” she hissed, her head whipping around to spot the woman in question.

He shifted in his seat, suddenly even more uncomfortable than before. “Well, I wasn’t exactly too enthusiastic when she told me about this date earlier and I think they just wanted to check that I actually showed up.”

Felicity snapped her mouth shut, cocking her head curiously. “Well, we could still leave and say we skipped dinner in favor of dessert,” she suggested with a shrug, before adding quietly, “That was my grandma’s plan all along anyway.”

Wait, what?

“You need your grandma’s meddling to get laid?”

“No,” she said, maybe a hair too quickly and defensively. There was definitely more to that than she was willing to share. “And who are you to judge, Mr. My-grandma-got-me-a-date-and-is-now-following-me-to-make-sure-I-have-a-good-time?” she added, more confidently this time.

Point taken.

He pressed his lips together. If there was one thing concerning Felicity Smoak he had major problems with was his love/hate relationship with whenever she called him on his shit. If mostly for the fact that he wasn’t used to that sort of behavior from non-family members. At work, most people were so intimidated by his last name that barely anyone ever dared to contradict him.

But, alas, Felicity Smoak wasn’t most people. He had to learn that the hard way very early on.

From day one, working in accounting had been a depressing, soul sucking exercise of patience and perseverance. He didn’t want to be there and the department head didn’t want him to be there either, but it had been his father’s brilliant idea to let him rotate through all essential departments of the company before establishing him in an executive position. Supposedly, that would give him the necessary holistic know-how to one day take over as CEO.

Five years ago, Oliver had relented when faced with the very real threat of being cut off financially from his parents unless he got his act together. Since then, he’d worked in a handful of different departments and even in overseas offices. Much to his surprise, he’d actually enjoyed the work. That was until he got transferred to accounting.

He’d been miserable at first, but then his boss had put him in charge of managing the IT department’s budget. And that’s where he’d crossed paths with Felicity Smoak, chief technological officer.

The only way he could describe her was as a spit fire.

She was the youngest CTO in the history of the company thanks to her double master’s degree from MIT at the tender age of 19 and her rapid, subsequent rise through the ranks at QC. Everybody he talked to about her could barely stop singing her praises because, apparently, she was perfect.

Admittedly, he himself had to work hard not to be drawn in by her natural charm at first, but that had quickly turned into complete disdain whenever he met her. Thanks, mom and dad, for the inferiority complex at work.

He hated her perfectly designed PowerPoint presentations, her insane confidence when speaking in front of executives, her stupidly brilliant ideas that would shape the future of the company, and her ray-of-sunshine positivity that lit up every room she entered. He fucking hated it all.

But what he hated most was that he was attracted to her. She was so goddamn smart and beautiful –good god, her legs were a work of art, and her ass should have its own religion and be worshipped everyday— and refreshingly honest that it almost overshadowed his immense dislike of everything else.

Almost.

But it wasn’t quite enough to keep his petulant, childish side from pointing out every little flaw he could find and make her life harder. Which, in turn, had turned into her making his life harder.

He was pretty sure that if they didn’t have all this shit between them, they could actually be friends… or more. Maybe this was fate giving him a second chance.

“No wonder you need your grandma’s help to score a date if this is how you treat women,” her voice ripped him out of his musings, reminding him that he totally ignored her for the past few minutes. “You know what, I think I’ll just go. I’ll make up an excuse about having a migraine or something.”

“No, wait,” he hurried to say, making a potentially life changing decision when he saw her moving from her seat. “Stay.” He covered her hand with his larger one on the table between them, pleasantly surprised when she stopped her retreat.

Maybe this was the perfect opportunity to finally make a change, put all of their grievances with each other behind them and turn their relationship around. Even if nothing more would come of it, it would certainly help to have a little less hostile work environment. Worst case scenario: everything stayed the same. Surely, this was worth a shot.

Her confused eyes moved slowly from their connected hands to his face.

“What are you doing?”

“Right, sorry.” He removed his hand, holding it up in defense. “Why don’t you stay? It’s just one dinner. We’ve done dinner before, right?”

“Yes, business dinners with plenty of other people who kept us from biting each other’s heads off,” she reminded him.

“Okay, fine, but still… we’re adults. We can mange to sit through a dinner together, right? Then neither of us has to lie to our grandmas and we can move on with our lives. I promise to be a better dinner companion than the past ten minutes.”

He was surprised to realize how much he actually wanted her to stay. Maybe his patent-pending Billion Dollar Oliver Queen Smile would help sway her.

Nope. The suspicious frown on her face told him otherwise.

“You’re paying, right?” she finally said, leaning back in her seat. “Because I’m gonna need a lot of really good wine to get through this night.”

“You can have all the wine,” he promised just as their waiter came around with a bottle of red and two salads.

“So, you’re just stingy about giving me money when we’re at work?”

And here we go, he thought.

“You really wanna talk about work?”

“Well, yeah. Why not? It’s not like this is a real date, so we might as well talk about you being a jerk to me all the time at work.”

“I’m not a jerk. I’m being a responsible accountant,” he shot back semi-truthfully. He knew he purposely was a jerk to her, but also to everybody else who didn’t do their work right.

“You’ve blocked literally every single budget proposal I’ve submitted since you started working in accounting,” she said, her voice accusatory.

He had already decided to try and mend fences, so he should probably tell her the truth instead of antagonize her like he usually did, right?

“Because you cut corners and submit incomplete paperwork. And you always use way too bloated calculations to justify the insane amounts you ask for,” he reasoned, pointing his fork at her before digging into his salad.

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do.”

“So, why did your predecessor have no problem greenlighting my budgets?” she challenged, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“I’m going out on a limb here, but I’d guess that he probably wanted to get in your pants.”

“No, he didn’t,” she denied vehemently.

“Really?” His eyebrows shot up. “He never asked you out? He never used the excuse of getting dinner or drinks to discuss your proposals? Never found a way to get you alone for a few minutes when you were out with work friends?”

“I…” She considered his words, cocking her head. “That was only…” She trailed off with a frown.

He knew he got her. “I went back and checked every proposal you filed before I got there. None of them were complete and none of them should’ve been granted.”

“And instead of just telling me this ten months ago, you thought it would be fun to make my life hell?” she questioned angrily. “Do you know how much shit I could’ve gotten done for the company this year, how much money I could’ve made if you hadn’t blocked my funding?”

“Your overblown funding, you mean,” he corrected her quickly. “I actually went ahead and ran your projects through the cost analyses that you were supposed to do, but didn’t do. With your projected costs, none of them would’ve broken even in the first fifteen years. They were good ideas, but that’s shitty business, which is why I felt quite justified in rejecting your proposals.”

“Again, why didn’t you just tell me?” she asked with an annoyed sigh, which he counted as silent acknowledgement of him being right. It was all about the small victories.

“I did. In the beginning, at least.”

Her eyebrows drew together as she contemplated his answer. “You rubbed it in my face that I didn’t get the money I asked for.”

“I’ll admit to getting some satisfaction out of the QC wonder child being bad at one thing, but I did offer to explain the correct process to you and you shut me down. Repeatedly.”

“Because you were being sleazy about it and making it very obviously sound like that was just an excuse to get me into your bed.”

He considered her answer, thinking back to the time her offered his help. “Fine,” he conceded, “my offer might’ve not been entirely without ulterior motives… but it wasn’t for the reason you think.”

“Then why?” She sounded genuinely curious, most of her anger having vanished.

“It was more a ploy to show that the wonder child wasn’t perfect. Show that you had flaws that couldn’t simply be overlooked,” he admitted.

“You keep calling me wonder child. What’s up with that?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he grimaced, scratching the back of his neck. Old habits die hard. “That’s the nickname Thea and I gave you.”

“Explain?” She was surprisingly calm about the whole thing, seeming open and interested in his response.

“I think it’s no secret that my parents like you. They like how smart you are, how mature and ambitious. They think you’re perfect. And they never fail to rub your achievements in our faces. At virtually every dinner it’s, ‘did you hear Felicity did this?’, and, ‘oh Felicity did that.’ They kinda established you as the golden standard of what success should look like, reminding both Thea and me that we’re far from that. And as petty and childish as it sounds and is, it felt good to see you fail at something that for once I was better at.”

Huh, no wonder she called him a jerk. He really was one.

“Wow… of all the reasons I suspected why you disliked me, this one never came to mind.”

They continued their dinner mostly in silence, sipping leisurely on their wines, doing some casual small talk here and there. Only when their waiter cleared the table, taking their orders for dessert, did Felicity break the increasingly prolonged and suffocating silence.

“Why did you tell me now?”

That was a good question. Why did he tell her?

“I don’t know. Because you asked?”

“I never asked before?”

“Not that I could recall, but then, usually, when we talk, things spin out of control pretty quickly.”

“Huh…”

He licked his lips and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for being an ass.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, clearly not having expected an apology. But that was what she deserved and what he definitely owed her.

Not giving her a chance to recover, he continued, “I never truly realized how incredibly stupid my reasons were until I verbalized them just now. It seemed to make sense to me in the beginning, but I now realize just how unnecessarily mean and asinine I’ve treated you just because I have validation issues with my parents. You shouldn’t have been dragged into that mess and your work definitely shouldn’t have suffered because I felt inadequate in their eyes.”

“That… I…” She blinked a few times, grasping for words. “I really don’t know what to say.”

“Well, luckily our desserts are coming, so you don’t have to say anything,” he chuckled, feeling lighter than before, like this apology was something that had just been weighing on his chest, waiting to get lifted off.

And even beyond that it felt weirdly liberating to have everything out in the open. He was honest when he said he’d never realized how bad his behavior had gotten until he replayed everything in his head and said the explanation out loud. It was stupid and really childish, and he really couldn’t blame her if she didn’t accept his apology.

“I’m sorry, too,” she finally blurted out.

“I really don’t see what you could apologize for,” he pointed out, confused. “You’re kinda the victim in all this. I mean, you were always confronting me at work and pushing my buttons and swamping me with useless budget proposals, but other than that you’re the innocent party here.”

“Not entirely. I…”– she hesitated –“… retaliated.”

“You… what?”

“I might’ve been responsible for your computer troubles, and your phone crashing all the time, and I kinda hacked your car’s onboard computer to only play holiday music during the summer.”

“That was you?”

“Mhhmmm…” she hummed, pursing her lips in semi-guilt and semi-mirth, before squeezing his hand. “I am sorry, though,” she quickly assured him. “Admittedly, only after hearing your reasons for being a dick— before that I felt quite justified. But I get disappointed parents who hold you to an unattainable standard and expect things from you. So, while I don’t approve of you taking out your grievances with them on me, I do kinda understand it.”

“And I understand why you felt the need to retaliate,” he assured her with a smile, still a bit baffled that she was behind his latest tech troubles.

“Did we just agree on something?”

“Seems like it, doesn’t it?”

She just hummed in response, slowly withdrawing her hand from his.

“So, where do we go from here?”

“We could try to be… friendly?” he suggested with a shrug.

“Friendly?”

“Yeah, you know, stop with the getting in the way and stepping on each other’s toes at every turn thing, and start being civil with each other.”

“I’d like that,” she said after thinking about it for a second.

“Good. Me, too.” He raised his glass of wine. “I’m guessing toasting to being friends would be a little presumptuous.”

She clinked her glass against his, a beautiful smile playing on her lips. “To colleagues who don’t hate each other anymore and may turn into friends in the future.”

“That’s a mouthful, but I’ll definitely take it.”

⁂⁂⁂ ARROW ⁂⁂⁂

One year later

As per usual around this time of year, the Queen Mansion had been turned into a winter wonderland, tastefully and ornately decorated to reflect Moira Queen’s impeccable taste. Maybe the most surprising thing about this party, considering all the fanfare on the grounds, was that it was a super lowkey, albeit insanely exclusive, affair.

She’d been surprised when she’d gotten an invitation, despite Oliver’s very excited announcement a few days before the arrival of the formal invitation. This wasn’t just any Christmas party. This was the Queen Family Christmas Party. From what she’d heard, the guest list usually didn’t exceed 60 people and typically consisted mostly of family and very close family friends.

So why was she here? Because she’d become really close friends with Oliver over the course of the last year, ever since their grandmothers had set them up for a blind date. It had started out cautiously, both of them unsure how to handle their new dynamic. But soon enough, smiles and nods while passing each other in the office and civilized work discussions had turned into her taking Oliver up on his previous offer to teach her about the budget proposal process and all the pesky, little, but necessary analyses and documents. Even after he’d moved on from the accounting department a few months after their blind date, he’d kept giving her advice and she’d kept running ideas by him.

When he started his new position as VP and, as a consequence, they didn’t see each other as often anymore during the day, they started going to lunch together a few times every week. That turned into movie nights, cooking at home, merging their groups of friends, and just hanging out together for the biggest parts of their free time.

So, maybe calling them really close friends wasn’t really cutting it. They were best friends. And as unbelievable as it would’ve sounded a year ago, she couldn’t and never wanted to imagine a life without Oliver in it.

“You’re here,” Oliver’s voice greeted her before she could even knock on the door.

“Of course.” She stepped on her toes to hug him tightly. “You’ve hyped this day up so much in the past weeks that I have rather high expectations now.”

“And they won’t be disappointed, I promise. Today will be awesome.”

“Well, then lead the way,” she said, finally disentangling from him. “Where can I put my stuff?”

“Right.” He clapped his hands together, buzzing with excitement. “You can leave your coat on. We’ll just put your things in my room and head right outside for the buffet.”

She pressed her lips together, watching the glint in his eyes. “You’re really excited, aren’t you?”

He licked his lips, his wide grin softened into an honest smile, eyes twinkling with happiness. “I’m just really happy to have you here this year.”

This sappy sucker! Going around melting her heart.

She stepped up to him again, pressing her lips against his jaw. “Shall we get this party started, then?”

⁂⁂⁂

A few hours later, party in full swing, Felicity was having the time of her life. Christmas might not have been her holiday, but the Queens sure knew how to make it a joyous occasion for everyone.

The afternoon had started with coffee, tea, and a huge buffet of cakes and all sorts of Christmas cookies set up in a spacious, beautifully decorated tent out on the grounds. The guests had mingled in the relaxed atmosphere, all adhering to the informal dress code Moira had mandated.

After a couple of hours of mingling in the warmth of the tent, some of the guys had gotten organized into two teams to start the annual backyard pond hockey game. Snuggled into her thick coat and with a steaming mug of mulled wine between her fingers, Felicity sat down on a bench close to the ice, watching Oliver glide effortlessly over the slick surface during warm ups.

Damn, that man could rock a Christmas sweater.

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Jenna,” a beautiful brunette woman said, plopping down next to Felicity.

“Oh, hi. I’m Felicity,” she greeted with a polite smile and turned back to the ice.

“So, which one is yours?”

“Excuse me?”

“Which of the guys is yours?”

“I…” She looked at Jenna questioningly.

The other woman huffed out a breath. “My husband, Stuart, is the guy in the brown sweater and my son is the little guy behind the goal back there.” She motioned to a young boy of about 9 or 10 who was surprisingly steady on his skates. “Who are you cheering on?”

“Oh, uh… guy in the green sweater,” Felicity said.

“You’re Oliver’s girlfriend?”

“What? No. Noooo, god no,” she quickly denied with a snort. “We’re friends.”

“Riiiight.” Jenna nodded with an arched eyebrow, clearly not believing her.

The game started, saving her from any more flailing justifications of her friendship with Oliver. Because that’s all there was. Friendship! Not that she wasn’t used to people assuming there was more –that happened all the time when they went out together— but it was just people’s small mindedness when it came to the old notion of men and women being incapable of being just friends.

Sure, their own group of friends joked all the time that Oliver and her routinely acted more like an old married couple, but that just spoke to the familiarity and trust they had in each other, okay?!

And, okay fine, they might’ve had some close brushes with trampling over the line when they’d had a little too much to drink, but they’d always stopped themselves before anything could happen. And either way, they just had a very tactile and trusting relationship. Uhh, friendship!

A pained yell, followed by sickening thud, ripped her out of her musings and she focused back on the ice where a huddle of players had formed around another player that was lying on the ground. A player in a dark green sweater. Shit! Oliver!

She bolted up from her seat, eating up the distance to the ice, only slowing down when she slipped and almost crashed. Sliding to a stop next to Oliver’s prone body, the ice beneath her knees digging right through the thin layer of her pants.

“Oliver? Oliver!” she urged, cold fingers skidding over his face. “Come one, wake up!”

“Miss?” a voice behind her asked. “Could you please take step back? I’m the Queen family physician.” When she scooted back enough for him to take a closer look without letting go off Oliver’s hand, the older man she recognized as one of the guests turned to someone else, “Andrew, could you please keep pressure on that wound?”

Wound? What wound?

Finally ripping her worried gaze from his pale face, she let her eyes wander down his body, frantically looking for any visible injuries. Her stomach dropped when she reached his thigh where another man was pressing against a wound, his hands covered in blood.

No, she couldn’t lose him.

He had to be okay.

She wasn’t sure if she made a distressed sound, but the doctor turned his eerily calming gaze to her, giving her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Miss, he’ll be just fine. The wound isn’t too deep and the fall just knocked him out. You should have him back by your side in no time.”

⁂⁂⁂

She was tired. God, she was so damn tired.

Oliver had woken up after only a couple of minutes of being unconscious, but to treat the cut on his thigh, left there by the blade of someone else’s skate he’d collided with, he’d been given a mild sedative and local anesthesia.

It had only been about half an hour since the accident, but it felt like hours had passed. She felt drained of all energy. So completely exhausted from worrying about him.

For a second, seeing him lying there, unconscious and pale, lifeless, she’d thought the worst. For a second, her best friend was gone.

For a second, the man she…

The man she… what?

No, don’t do it, Felicity. Don’t be a cliché. Don’t be one of those people that needs a tragedy to realize how they really feel about someone.

Even though, technically, that wasn’t quite the case. She definitely knew how she felt about Oliver. She’d just never admitted it out loud, because that would open a Pandora’s box of epic proportions. She really couldn’t go down that road. Not with his baggage. And her baggage. And the fact that they still kinda worked together. It was just unthinkable, the notion of them being together, so why think about it at all and agonize over one-sided feelings that would never be reciprocated?

“F’licity?”

“I’m here.”

“My head hurts,” he mumbled, eyes still closed.

She traced his cheek with her fingertips. “I know. Try to get a little more rest, okay?”

“Mhhh,” he hummed, his eyes blinking slowly open. “You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine”— her fingers stilled on his skin —“just focus on yourself, alright?”

“Always think of you,” he mumbled, turning his face into her touch, letting first his stubble and then his soft lips drag along her fingers. “Sorry for scaring you.” He was becoming a little more lucid, keeping his eyes open a for a few seconds at a time.

“And how would you know you scared me and probably took five years off of me?” she asked, unable to hide her smile.

“Because I know you,” he sighed. “You always worry about me.”

“Yes, and my sanity and life expectancy would appreciate it if you never scared me like that again,” she scolded him gently, tapping his nose.

“I’ll do my best.”

“You better. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

“I’ll always be with you,” he whispered with a dopey grin, sleep dragging him back under. “Stay with me?” he asked, moving the edge of his blanket out of the way, making space for her.

For the life of her, she couldn’t resist. There were very few things in this world that were better than falling asleep in Oliver Queen’s arms, so she wasn’t about to pass on his invitation.

“Rest, Oliver. I’ll be here.”

⁂⁂⁂ ARROW ⁂⁂⁂

1 week later

New Year’s Eve.

His favorite excuse to get drunk and make out with random women.

At least it used to be.

Now, it was a different story.

He’d come to appreciate the occasion for what it was: the end of one year and the beginning of a new one. An evening of dreams and hopes and endless possibilities. Especially, tonight.

Wow, when had he turned into such a sap? And when did he stop minding that he was?

“You look dapper,” Felicity greeted him. Yup, there was his answer.

He turned to her, trying and probably failing to school his features at the sight of her. “And you look beautiful,” he told her, bending down to kiss his best friend’s cheek in greeting, not missing the slight blush his words provoked.

“Always sweet-talking,” she teased him, straightening his tie with practiced ease. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing, really,” he sighed, wisely deciding not to tell her about the numerous attempts of some of the guests of hitting on him in not so subtle ways. Whenever she witnessed that kind of behavior around him she always rolled her eyes, showing those tiny sparks of jealousy.

“You’ll work yourself to death one of these days.” He was only half joking, mostly genuinely worried that all the overtime she’d been clocking this year was finally going to take a toll on her health.

“You know me, when I get in the zone I can’t help myself,” she played off his concern.

“So, I’m guessing you won’t make a new year’s resolution to work less next year?”

“I will actually,” she told him, with a smirk, knowing full well she’d managed to surprise him.

“Really?” Yeah, he’d only believe that when he saw it.

“Really. Don’t sound so shocked. I’m well aware that I’ve been stretching myself thin this year,” she said, entwining their fingers. “I got swept up in the excitement of the new project and focused most of my time on it. I know I still got to spend plenty of my free time with my friends, but I also noticed that I said ‘no’ more often than before because some nights I was just too tired or still stuck in the office. I’m determined to make a change next year.”

“Does that mean I’ll get to spend more time with you?” he asked cheekily, happy to hear she did actually have every intention to take better care of herself.

“If you play your cards right.” She smiled up at him. “But I gotta warn you, Cait has already claimed every second and third Friday of the month for girl’s nights.”

He frowned. “That’s a lot of Fridays.”

“It is,” she agreed. “But I’m open for negotiations. If you can make me a better offer, I might reconsider.”

“I do believe I have the better wine. And I’ll cook for you.”

“Mhhh, that might just do the trick.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Tommy cut in from the side, looking not even a little sorry for the rude intrusion, “but I just had to come over and tell you how ravishing you look tonight, Felicity. You clearly dressed to impress and I for one am very impressed.”

“Tommy,” Felicity acknowledged his unwelcome arrival, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly at Oliver for his best friend’s typical comment, “always a pleasure to see you.”

“Don’t sound too enthusiastic, Ms. Smoak. I know I’m interrupting your little”—he gesticulated at them wildly—“thing, but my mother has asked me to make myself useful and ask someone to dance. Since my girlfriend ditched me on this joyous occasion for a weekend with her friends, I thought you’d be the safest option in this pool of pariahs.”

Oh, buddy.

“Did you just call all these women here pariahs?” she asked with narrowed eyes, very clearly displeased by his choice of words.

“I know that sounds bad,” Tommy allowed, but plowed on, “but you haven’t been here to see how they’ve been circling us with calculating eyes, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on the juicy, fresh pieces of premium steak they think we are.”

“What a terrible burden it must be,” she mocked. “How do you possibly survive being treated like nothing more than a piece of meat? What a horrible thing to do to another human being… Whatever will you do about all this unwanted attention?”

God, Oliver just loved this woman for not letting either of them ever get away with comments like that.

Tommy shifted uneasily, pursing his lips. “You’ve made your point, Smoak. No need to rub it in further. I apologize for my insensitive comparison.”

She smiled brightly at him, patting his cheek. “There may be hope yet.” Turning to Oliver, she held out her clutch. “Can you please hold this while I help Merlyn with his duties?”

“Of course. I’ll be over by the bar,” he said before watching them take off to the dance floor. When Tommy turned around mimicking the motion of cracking a whip towards him, he only dignified it with an eye roll. Jerk.

⁂⁂⁂

Hours later, the party was in full swing and, once again, he found himself in a secluded corner, while Felicity had been whisked away to the dance floor by yet another man. Wasn’t that the theme of the evening? He’d honestly lost count of how many guys she’d danced with after Tommy.

It was 11.40 and he was getting antsy. He had a plan and with every minute that got them closer to midnight, his nerves flared up a little more. And not just his nerves, but also his doubts. Should he do it? Should he risk it? Should he abort his mission like he’d done half a dozen times in the last few months?

Oh, to hell with it.

He was done with this giant ‘what if’ looming over his life. It was time to make a change.

With that thought fueling his confidence, he made his way across the dance floor, tapping Felicity’s current dance partner on the shoulder. “Hey, may I cut in?”

The other man grumbled, but stepped away when Felicity gave him a nod.

Standing in front of her now, in the middle of the dance floor, not moving, felt a little weird, but he didn’t come to dance with her. Not yet. “Hey, can I steal you away for a second?”

“It’s almost midnight,” she reminded him with a frown, cocking her head, trying to figure out what he was up to.

“I know. Just trust me.”

She let a beat pass, pursing her lips. “Fine… Where are we going?”

“The roof.”

“The roof? Oliver it’s freezing outside.”

“We’ll grab our coats. It’ll be fine. Just trust me.”

She sighed exasperatedly at his dodgy behavior and he knew that she wanted to protest some more and prod him for information to solve the mystery he presented her with, but she finally relented. “Fine, lead the way.”

Alright, show time.

She’d only protested mildly when they’d taken the stairs to the door that led to the roof. When they stepped out of the building a brisk gush of cold air caught them, making them both shiver and tighten their coats.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“Alright, you know I’m not good at keeping silent. What are you up to, Queen?” she asked, taking his outstretched hand despite her impatience. “This better be good, I’m freezing my ass off.”

He didn’t say anything, leading her to their right, bringing his surprise into view.

There was a beat of silence before, “Uhm, Oliver?” Her voice sounded hesitant. “What is this?”

“My surprise?”

“Oh-kay…” she drawled out, apparently unsure what to make of this. “And you want to me to check if this is okay for your date?” There was something in her tone that he’d rarely heard from her in the past year, ever since they started being friends: annoyance.

Het let his eyes glide over his setup in confusion. With Thea’s help he’d brought up a plethora of blankets and pillows, arranging them in the middle of a sea of little lanterns that were twinkling in the dark night. Next to the blankets was a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses, as well as some of the party’s hors d’oeuvres to snack on. Wasn’t it abundantly clear what he was trying to do?

“Uhh, what?”

“You brought me here to see if this was romantic enough for whomever you plan to bring up here?”, she inquired, her tone nipping.

“What? No!” He stared at her, completely bewildered. Did she really not piece this together on her own? “This is for you.”

A beat of silence.

“Me? Really?” She stared right back, eyes wide with confusion. “Oliver, this is clearly meant to be some sort of romantic gesture.”

“Yeah, it is.” He huffed out a frustrated breath. God, okay, he could admit that this didn’t go as planned and maybe he did this all wrong. “It’s for you. There’s no one else I wanted to bring up here. Just you.”

“But… why?”

Man, she was really making this a lot harder than he’d anticipated.

“I thought this would be a romantic setting to ask you out. You know, watch the fireworks from up here. Ring in the new year.” That was generally considered romantic, right?

“Ohhh.” Her eyes widened.

“Yeah,” he sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “I see now that I should’ve maybe used more words to set this up, but I can do that now.” He turned to her, taking her hands in his. “Felicity, I know we had kind of a weird start with our little feud in the office and then our grandmothers setting us up on the blind date, but I feel like we’ve come a long way since then.

“You’re one of my best friends and I’ve realized over the last few months that I feel a lot more for you than just friendship. So, I was wondering if maybe you felt the same and if you’d like to go on a date with me. A real one this time. No meddling grandmas.” He smiled brightly at her, hoping she could see how serious he was.

She stared at him for a few, long, excruciating seconds, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times without any sound coming out.

She was clearly surprised by his words, but it was the next emotion that crossed her face that made his heart plummet. Apprehension.

Well, shit. She was going to turn him down.

“I like you, Oliver,” she finally whispered, frantically looking for the right words to break his heart. “I really do. I love having you as my friend.” She wiggled one of her hands out of his grasp, laying it flat against his chest, as if that could somehow prevent his heart from breaking into little pieces. “I just… I don’t see you… us… as something more. I don’t think that would work. We don’t fit together. We’re so different when it comes to relationships, the idea of you and me being in one seems pretty unthinkable.”

Unthinkable.

She thought they were unthinkable.

That sounded really damn final.

He closed his eyes, willing his mind and body to keep his disappointed reaction at bay. “Right… uhm…” he trailed off, unsuccessful in his search for words.

Oh, shit what had he done?

Had he really misread her this much? How could he have misjudged their situation like this?

God, he felt like throwing up.

“Oliver.”

He cleared his throat, reluctantly opening his eyes. For the first time in the almost two years that he’d known her, he dreaded the sight of her.

He pasted on a smile that he knew must‘ve looked fake as hell, but it was all he could muster. “It’s… okay, Felicity. I thought you…” He let go of her other hand, bringing it up to scratch his forehead, and cleared his throat again. “I thought there was more, but I guess I… was wrong.” So very, very wrong.

She looked at him with sadness, a hint of doubt in her eyes that would’ve probably given him hope if she hadn’t been so clear a few minutes ago.

“I… I’m sorry, Oliver.”

That coaxed a semi-bitter, semi-disbelieving laugh out of him. “For not feeling the same way? Don’t be.” He meant that. He’d never want her to feel obligated to lie and respond in kind just to please him. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“No, Oliver, that’s not-“

He cut in, not feeling like he could take her pity, “Can we just… can we just forget the last ten minutes ever happen?” Oh, god, was his voice really quivering as much as it sounded like? “I don’t want my stupidity to hurt our friendship.”

His vision started swimming as the thought of just having lost her manifested in his mind. Being rejected when asking her out was one thing, but completely losing her friendship because he’d put her on the spot, now that was unthinkable.

“Can we please just forget about this?” he pleaded.

She looked like she wanted to protest, but pressed her lips together and nodded.

Good, with any luck, at least there might be a chance to salvage their friendship.

“Come on, I’ll bring you back to the party,” he said, voice still heavy with emotion, but soldiering through.

Once again, she looked hesitant, like something else was burning on her tongue or she might have second thoughts. But she swallowed it down, nodding again and followed him to the door to the staircase.

The walk down to the party was painfully silent and he was more than glad that as soon as they reentered the big, festively decked out conference room, Felicity got whisked away by someone from her department. That gave Oliver the chance to finally take a breath.

With one final look at Felicity across the room, he turned on his heels and went back up into the staircase, tracing back his earlier steps. There was just no way he could be in the same room with her right now, not when all his dreams about them had just crashed and burned so spectacularly.

The wind seemed to greet him with a fiercer bite when he stepped out on the roof for the second time. The cold immediately crept inside his suit, making a shiver run down his spine, but he welcomed the slight burn on his skin this time.

His gaze landed on the setup he’d carefully assembled. He was supposed to be lying there with Felicity, cuddled up, sipping champagne, counting down the minutes to midnight.

Supposed to…

How had everything turned into such a crap-show so quickly?

Tonight was supposed to be a good night, damn it.

One minute, he was happy and hopeful, on the verge of dating the woman of his dreams, and in the next, he was alone.

He plopped down on the mountain of blankets, letting his back hit the cushioned ground, staring up at the night sky. The clouded darkness refused to offer him any answers to his questions.

How had he misread the signs? How had he convinced himself that Felicity had feelings for him, too? And how the hell was he supposed to put this behind them? How was she supposed to put his unwanted advances behind them?

He’d been so caught up in his new-found optimism and feelings for this woman that he never really stopped to consider what kind of an incredibly awkward position he’d put her in. Yeah, sure, he’d considered the possibility of being turned down, but somehow that situation never looked so fucking devastating in his mind. He’d imagined it would hurt and make things a little weird, but the reality felt so much worse.

He felt lost, unsure, confused, disappointed, angry at himself. A tiny part of him was even angry at Felicity for not feeling the same, even though he knew that wasn’t fair. People couldn’t be forced to love someone.

Fuck, he’d been so sure that there was something brewing between them. They’d become close pretty quickly and he thought he’d figured her out. Thought he knew her and her tells. Thought he knew how she behaved when she was attracted to someone. But tonight just proved how foolishly wrong he’d been.

Maybe he could go on a prolonged business trip to put some time and distance between them to help make things less awkward. Maybe after a few weeks they could put this behind them and move on. Not that he thought he could just turn off his feelings like that. But he could try. He had to try if he wanted to salvage their friendship. And he did. Life without Felicity was no longer an option. Even if all she would ever feel for him was friendship.

The first thunderous crack and a bright, colorful flash of fireworks going off high above his head ripped him straight out of his thoughts.

Midnight.

Happy New Year, he thought bitterly.

If tonight was any indication of what 2018 would look like, he already dreaded the next 365 days with a vengeance.

He heard the scrunching sound of the gravel that covered the rooftop, alerting him to someone’s arrival. Probably Thea who’d known about his plans and probably wanted to know if he chickened out again after she spotted Felicity at the party when she was supposed to be up here with him. Gosh, he really wasn’t in the mood.

Slamming his eyes shut, he waited for his sister’s disapproving voice to rip into him, but instead he only felt someone sit down next to him. Hey, she was smart, maybe she’d put the pieces together and decided to take it easy on him.

“Oliver.”

That was most definitely not his sister. And it was most definitely the last person’s voice he expected to hear. Felicity.

Ripping his eyes open, he quickly sat up, indeed faced with his blonde friend.

For just one second he felt hope surge through his body until he remembered what she’d said: unthinkable.

One word was enough to crush whatever hope he had left.

Felicity grabbed his hands, clutching them in her shaking ones, and he had to use every ounce of willpower to keep from pulling away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, sadness and guilt so goddamn clear in her voice.

He laughed bitterly. “Don’t. Please don’t. Literally the only thing that could make me feel worse right now is to get your pity.”

“And what about an apology?” she asked quietly.

“Felicity,” he sighed, getting increasingly frustrated with her. This just felt like she was pouring salt in his wounds. Couldn’t they just move the fuck on? “I told you you have nothing to be sorry for. You don’t feel the same way, and while that does hurt to hear, it’s okay. It sucks. It really, really sucks, but it’s okay. I’ll get over it, I promise! I just need a little bit of time.”

“That’s not…” she sighed, running a hand through her locks. “I lied.”

He looked at her with a frown etched into his forehead, not understanding what she meant.

“Earlier… when I said I didn’t see us as something more, I lied.”

What?

He swallowed hard, willing his brain to catch up and comprehend what was happening. “I don’t understand,” he finally breathed out.

“I panicked. You completely caught me off-guard with this.” She motioned around. “I mean, I really didn’t see any of this coming. Not in a million years. I’ve spent the better part of this year convincing myself that there’d never be more between us. That we’d only ever be friends. That you’d only ever see me as a friend.

“So, when you asked me out, I was so shocked I panicked. I used every defense mechanism I had just in case you were just joking or I was reading into things or this was just one of those spur of the moment things that people come up with when alcohol is flowing and everybody around them is happy and in love.”

“So, you’re saying…” What was she saying? That she felt more for him? That she wanted a do-over? That he wasn’t clear enough with his intentions earlier and she’d misunderstood?

She took a deep breath. “I’m saying that you were right. There is more between us.”

“I… So… Are you sure?” he stuttered, still unable to really catch up with what was happening.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said, voice so damn steady and sure that he was inclined to believe her, and yet…

“But then why…”

“Because I panicked. Because when you said you felt more, all I could think about was all the different ways I could get hurt. And I know that’s selfish and you didn’t deserve that, but that’s just what happened.”

“I’d never purposely hurt you, Felicity.”

“I know,” she insisted, grimacing. “But then I remembered how my ex told me the exact same thing, and a few weeks later I found him in bed with another woman. And that made me think of some of the things I’ve read about you, and even though I knew it wasn’t a fair comparison, it still stuck.” Her words were slipping out quicker, her breathing unsteady. “I mean, deep down I know you’re not like Billy and I know you’re not like party boy Ollie Queen anymore, but there was still this little voice of doubt and insecurity in my head that I stupidly decided to listen to instead of what my heart was telling me.”

“And what was your heart telling you?” he asked with bated breath.

A smile tugged at her lips. “That none of my doubts or deep-seeded insecurities changed the fact that I’m in love with you.”

He sucked in a breath. Did she just…? Holy crap, she did.

“Felicity…” Please don’t let this be emotions and guilt running high, making her feel like she had to say it.

“No, I’m not just saying it now to make you feel better or because I feel guilty for hurting you earlier by lying to you,” she answered his question before he could even ask, quickly adding, “Even though I do feel really bad about that and I’m sorry.”

She tugged on his hands in emphasis. “I’m telling you because it’s the truth. I don’t really know when it happened, but sometime during the past year I fell in love with you and for too long I let my insecurities and doubts hold me back. I had myself absolutely convinced you’d never see me as more than just a friend. And even if by some miracle you did, that we still wouldn’t work out.

“But now, I’m just so done with living with all these questions and ‘what ifs’ that keep me from living my life to the fullest,” she said with a hopeful smile. “I wanna take this jump with you. Figuratively speaking, obviously, because you know I’m terrified of heights.” That elicited a knowing laugh from him. “I love you,” she continued, more serious, “and I want to be with you and I’m done holding myself back.” The more she spoke the steadier her voice became, until she added, a little more shyly, “If you’ll still have me, that is.”

He blinked a few times, letting her words wash over him, carefully sifting through the onslaught of information.

That was a lot to take in.

First things first, she loved him. As in, she was in love with him. She said so multiple, leaving no doubt in his mind that she was telling the truth.

Second, she was scared because of their individual pasts. That was what held her back before, worrying about ‘what ifs’ and ‘could bes’.”

Third, she wanted to throw caution to the wind and try a relationship with him. She wanted to be with him.

She cleared her throat, licking her lips. “Or you could… think about it,” she said, voice quivering ever so slightly with worry. “Yeah, just think about it. I’m not going anywhere. And I understand that after what I did earlier you need some time to consider this.”

She slowly drew back her hands from his, and only when he was no longer touching her did he realize how long his reaction was taking him.

He breathed out a huff of laughter, suddenly overcome with happiness and the realization that they could be together after all. He leaned forward and framed her face with his hands, not wasting any time, bringing their lips together in a sweet kiss.

He could tell she was surprised by how she momentarily went completely still, her entire body frozen, before she caught herself and her lips started moving against his in a slow torturous rhythm that had him this close to begging for more.

One of his hands trailed down her neck, following her arm down until he found her waist where he pulled her closer, mindful of the somewhat awkward, twisted position they were in. He just needed more. He wanted to feel her body against his and make sure this wasn’t a dream. Make sure that he didn’t just drink the entire bottle of champagne, pass out, and conjure up a universe in his drunk mind where she didn’t reject him.

Her fingernails lightly digging into his scalp made him pause. Holy shit, this was real.

He drew back, putting a few inches of space between them, watching as her eyes sluggishly blinked open. Full blown pupils filled with desire met his. They were both breathing heavily, the rapid puffs of air visible in the sparsely illuminated night.

“Felicity,” he breathed out, dipping back in for another kiss against her now slightly swollen lips. He smiled into the kiss, beyond happy that he could do this now.

She pulled back this time, cradling his head in her hands. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she teased, licking her lips.

Oliver smirked at her. “You can take that as a hell yes,” he corrected her, pulling her closer once again, and this time she helped, hiking up the hem of her dress so she could straddle him. “I love you, Felicity,” he murmured just before their lips met again, slower this time with the knowledge that they had all the time in the world. “You’re crazy if you think that I’ll ever think twice about being with you now that we have everything out in the open. I love you,” he repeated, delighted by how easily the words rolled off his tongue.

“Mhhh,” she hummed against his lips, sending a delicious shiver down his spine. “I love you, too. Thank you for forgiving me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I sprung this on you completely out of the blue and didn’t consider how much pressure I’d put on you. I’m sure I could’ve found a better way to broach the topic a little more delicately.”

“Just for the record, I do appreciate how much effort you put into this. Who knew you were such a romantic?” she said with an adoring smile, kissing him once more as a reward for his efforts.

He drew back a little, shaking his head and letting out another disbelieving chuckle. What a rollercoaster of a night. He’d gone from cautiously hopeful to devastated to insanely happy. However bumpy their road to this point had turned out to be, he’d do it all again. Even if it were for just one moment of pure bliss like this one with the woman of his dreams in his arms, telling him she loved him.

He let himself fall backwards, Felicity following him, never letting more than a few inches between them as she settled on his stomach, her hair falling like a curtain around his face. “Say it again,” he murmured, already addicted to those three little words tumbling from her lips and the content little smile accompanying them.

She closed the gap once more, immediately knowing what he wanted to hear. “I”—she pressed her lips to his—“love”—another kiss—“you.”

He grinned into the kiss before deepening it, caving into his desire and letting his hands roam over her body. God, he could do that now. He could touch her like this. A realization Felicity had apparently also arrived at, if her wandering hands were anything to go by.

A particularly loud bang from a firework right above their heads startled them apart, both breathing heavily.

“Mhh,” she hummed, shivering slightly, “maybe we should continue this elsewhere. Someplace warmer and more private comes to mind.”

He grinned naughtily at her. “I have a few ideas how to warm you up.”

She chuckled. “I don’t doubt that, but I’d much prefer to continue this in a bed.” She frowned for a second, before amending, “No, actually, I’d just prefer to be in one of our apartments. You can choose the surface.”

He growled, reaching up to kiss her again. “I have so many suggestions, but a warm bed with you in it sounds damn good right about now,” he whispered, also starting to feel the cold night air chilling him to the bone.

Neither of them made any move to get up though, lost in each other’s eyes for a few more peaceful moments of pure and utter happiness.

“Happy New Year, Oliver,” she murmured, sealing her words with another kiss. And god, there was so much more in those words. An unspoken promise of everything that was to come, of so much hope and happiness.

“It will be,” he promised, knowing in his heart that together they’d make this an incredible year. And just the first of many. “Happy New Year, Felicity.”

⁂⁂⁂ ARROW ⁂⁂⁂

“To a job well done,” Gloria Dearden said, raising her martini glass in a celebratory toast.

Freida Smoak was all too happy to clink her own glass against that of her close friend. “It took a little bit longer than anticipated, but I’m very pleased they finally saw the light.” She took a sip of martini, before adding, “Should we tell them that the whole lost poker bet was just a ruse to set them up on a date?”

Gloria shook her head. “I think the better question is what will we do to make sure they don’t take too long to give us great-grandchildren?”

“Well, considering the snail’s pace it took them to go from their first date to being together, we should get started sooner rather than later. We’re not getting any younger, after all.”

“Then let’s get cracking. I already have some splendid ideas.”

“Bring it on, sister.”

⁂⁂⁂

#olicity fic #olicity #olicity fanfic #olicity secret santa 2017 #submission

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stylo-xx · 7 years

Text

Eyes Closed (M)

G-Dragon: Angst/Small amount of fluff/Smut

PART 5-C: Close

A/N: here take this monstrosity away from me….I had to cut somethings out for certain reasons. But worry not said things will pop up at some point later on and ya’ll will get to read that. Also had to stop myself from writing too much; believe it or not there was supposed to be more smut in this but I needed a mental break from all that…

P.S: songs for your listening pleasure: (Logan Henderson)||(DEANxSyd)||(Kavinsky Feat. The Weeknd)

(Part One)||(Part Two-A)||(Part Two-B)||(Part Three)||(Part Four)||(Part Five-A)||(Part Five-B)||(Part Six)

“You did what?!” Saige and Sasha said in unison; Sasha belted in delighted disbelief while Saige sounded less than enthused.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Hold up, rewind you did what now?” Sasha probed.

‘Goddamn it I wish I hadn’t opened my big mouth…’ I thought.

“Are you really going to make me say it again?” I rubbed the sides of my temples with my fingers.

“Alexandra, I cannot believ–”

“Will you just shh?” Sash put a hand up hushing Saige “like I was saying, we want details, all of them! Well mostly just the ones leading up to you–”

“AHHH, no stop right there I don’t want to hear it said out loud again” I interjected “saying it out loud again will only make it that much more real…”

The tapping of Alex’s heel on the linoleum floor and the ticking of the clock overhanging the hospital bed filled the room. If she hadn’t had her nails done earlier that day they would have been chewed to pieces by now from the anxiety that filled her whole being. Much to her chagrin, the moment Ji-Yong collapsed she felt as though her heart dropped to her stomach. And much to her surprise she cared a lot more than she had led on. Had Ji-Yong actually been conscious on the ambulance ride to the hospital she probably wouldn’t have acted so worried in front of him. Probably wouldn’t have held his hand either…

“Well Ji-Yong as nice it was to see you, I don’t want to see you in my emergency room again” the doctor laughed “at least not anytime soon. Twice in one week, is more than enough”

He managed to give the doctor a halfhearted smile as the nurse was beginning to take out his IVs.

“How about we also give it a break on the drinking…and probably the smoking unless you want to end up down in the basement next time”

Ji-Yong furrowed his brows as the nurse chuckled; he didn’t quite get the doctor was joking about ending up in the morgue.

“All jokes aside just be more careful. You know, you’re lucky to have this young woman as your girlfriend to–”

“Oh I’m not his girlfriend” Alex interjected “I’m-I’m just a friend…kind of”

Ji-Yong sighed as he rolled his eyes.

As the nurse took out the last IV, Ji-Yong sat up from the bed ready to spring off.

“Whoa not so fast” the doctor held up a hand “Yoon-Ji is just going to check your vitals one last time before we let you go”

He sighed again and slunk back onto the hospital bed as the nurse wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm and stuck a pulse Oximeter on his finger.

“You know, for being just a friend you seem to care an awful lot for him” the doctor said in a hushed tone.

“I don't” she lied “ if he got hurt that would all land on me unfortunately and his fans would come after me with their pitchforks”

He chuckled “alright, well get home safe. The pair of you”

The car ride to his place is silent, just as awkward as when they first met. But not as uncomfortable as it was for him the first time he ever saw her dating someone else. For the past fifteen minutes they both averted making any kind of eye contact, let alone uttering a single word; one wishing that they could sit farther away than the car door permitted and the other wishing for something they had been dreaming of for the past few months.

Still shaken from what the doctor had said to her, Alex anxiously picked at her nails as she thought ‘if some stranger who had only seen us together once thought I was his girlfriend, then what the hell did it look like to everyone else?’. ‘I mean I couldn’t have just left him there! Not that I care about him like that…I was just…helping someone out…’ she rationalized to herself.

The silence was broken with the sound of the car doors opening; neither one noticing the car had come to a complete halt.

“Uhm, ma’am we’re here” the security guard held out his hand.

“Oh–oh, right” she reached out to place her hand in his before speaking.

“Umm, you know what I change my mind” she retracted her hand.

Ji-Yong with one foot out the door, furrowed his brows quizzically and turned to look at her.

“What are you doing?”

“I promised I’d get you home safe, and now that you’re here…I can finally go” she looked at her hands.

“What are you talking about?” he pulled his foot back into the car.

“Ji-Yong we both know I can’t stay here without anymore drama happening. if it’s not you and I arguing some more then it’s the paparazzi catching me going to your house with you and stirring up rumors about us…being together…I can’t have that”

He bit his lip.

“I can’t do this Ji-Yong. I can’t give you what you’re looking for…at least not anymore” she sighed “what happened back there–outside, Ji-Yong, it can’t happen ever again. And I’m not talking about you passing out”

He ran a hand through his hair out of frustration “can we talk about this upstairs? you know away from everyone getting into our business…”

“Ji-Yong no, I–”

“Alex please. There’s another entrance through the service elevator, I take that when I don’t want anyone knowing where I am. No one will see you coming in or out of this building”

She sighed again and looked up into his pleading eyes.

“I really shouldn’t…”

“I just really need to talk to you” he sighed “not argue, not cause more shit in your life. Just talk”

She eyed him hesitantly.

“I’ve been wanting the chance to get to talk to you alone for months and if I don’t stop you from leaving now, who knows how long it will be until I get to see you again like this…knowing you probably never” he chuckled.

She bit her lip before speaking “…okay”

“Okay” he nodded toward the driver signaling him to drive them to the back entrance.

The elevator ride to his penthouse wasn’t any easier; he practiced in his head what he was going to say and she simply felt her heart beating in her ears..

Arriving at his front door, he fumbled around his pant pockets trying to dig out his keycard eventually succeeding but now struggling with getting the keycard into the slot.

Growing impatient she sighed “here let me”

Grabbing the keycard from him his hands, she unintentionally brushed her fingers against his causing a chain reaction of goosebumps all over his body.

Successfully opening the door they walk into his dark penthouse save for a singular light from the stove top overhead emitting a warm glow that filled a part of the living room.

She let out puff of air from her nose and smiled as she closed the door behind her.

“What?”

“Nothing” she smiled “this place just hasn’t changed a bit”

He gave her a small smile “you want anything to drink”

“Ji-yong–”

“I meant like water or tea or something” he chuckled “I’ll make some tea”

Making his way into the kitchen he turned on the overhead lights and reached into his cabinets grabbing two mugs for the two of them and suddenly felt dizzy again before dropping both mugs and them shattering all over the floor.

Before he could even get a chance to bend over to pick up the fragments she rushed to his side and lead him toward his bedroom.

“Okay Gordon Ramsay, I think you need to go listen to the doctor and go to bed”

“But the glass–”

“I’ll pick it up”

“But what about the–”

“I’ll make it”

Helping him get into bed, she made sure he was comfortable before turning on his bedside table lamp.

“So stay here, okay? I’ll be right back”

He caught her by the hand before she could leave the room “how do I know you’re gonna come back? and not leave me all alone”

She raised an eyebrow “I guess you don’t know…but I’m also not gonna leave shattered glass all over your kitchen floor so i guess you’re just going to have to wait and find out” she smiled making her way back into the kitchen.

Having been gone for several minutes he anxiously listened to the soft clamoring of pots and pans coming from the kitchen still fearing that if he stopped listening that she would take off without him knowing any better. Despite how hard he tried, his body decided against him and he ended up nodding out at one point waiting for her but was awoken by the soft rattling of cups and the barely audible ‘shit’ she muttered.

“Morning sleeping beauty” she chuckled.

Carrying a tray that had tea for two and some snacks she placed it on his lap.

He eyed her as she set it down.

“What? its breakfast in bed…kinda”

He gave her a smile.

“Is it morning already?” he scratched his head.

“It’s almost three in the morning” she chuckled again.

They both sat in comfortable silence as they both ate and drank tea before she opened her mouth to speak

“So..” she cleared her throat “you said you wanted to talk?”

He swallowed hard before putting down his cup of tea.

“So talk”

He took a deep breath before speaking “well..I…umm”

She eyed him “you said you have months worth of things to say to me, is that all you got?” she smiled.

He cleared his throat and smiled shyly “I don’t know where to start, usually all the words start flowing out when I’m wasted”

“Okay but that isn’t an option so, just say the first thing that comes to mind”

“If I tell you that you’d probably laugh”

She chuckled “okay fine, I’ll say something then”

“Be my guest” he gestured.

“I’m–I’m glad you’re okay. You kinda had me worried…only for a second though”

He smirked “just a second?”

“Don’t press your luck Kwon” she crossed her arms “so now you say something. Go”

“I’m glad you showed up”

“To…your place?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Just in general” he smiled shyly “I know it might be weird, and I definitely didn’t want my first impression on you after not seeing each other for months to be this same drunk asshole you left”

She pursed her lips and nodded.

“But, I–nevermind”

“No, go on say it”

“Normally by now I would wind up all alone, drunk out of my mind wanting to at least hear from you and now–” he looked to his hands “I’m almost sober, not alone and I’m here talking to you face to face”

She gave him a halfhearted smile.

“You know I told you I have so much to say, but all I can really think of is that I’m glad you’re the one who’s here tonight with me”

She sighed.

“And I–I’m sorr–I–about the kiss earlier…”

“Don’t strain yourself trying to apologize” she chuckled “I know you wouldn’t mean it anyway”

He let out a heavy sigh and groaned “listen about what I said to you the night we broke up–”

“There you go again” Her eyes went wide “nope, no. let’s just not go there okay? No apology for that one needed”

“But I wanna make things–”

“I said its fine! Can we please just not bring up that night?”

He nodded his head “I never meant what I said to you that night”

“Ji-yong please–”

“I’m serious” he sat up straight “I know you don’t care or wanna hear it, but it’s the truth. I didn’t know what I had until you were gone for good”

“Are you done?” she stood up from his bedside “I don’t wanna talk about that! If that’s all you wanted to talk about then I’m leaving”

“Will you just stop?” he grabbed her by the hand “just sit down and listen to me, please”

She eyed the hand that held her wrist.

“Look, I didn’t bring you up here so we could argue. I wanted you here because–fuck I don’t even know why I’m trying anymore” he let go of her hand.

She sighed heavily “can we just call a truce and not talk about our past, whatever the fuck we had?”

He scoffed changing the subject “can you just help me up? I wanna get out of these clothes and into some pajamas”

Taking the tray from his lap she placed it down on the bedside table and offered him a hand helping him out of his bed.

They both walked toward his closet and she began to rifle through his drawers to pick out pajamas for him.

“These sound good to you?” without looking at him she held up the pajamas in her hand.

“Anything that gets me out of these clothes sounds good”

Attempting to take his own shirt off, his lack of use of his right hand he got his arm and his head stuck in his shirt.

“Here let me help you” she said trying to hold back her laughter.

She pulled the shirt back down by its hem to where she could see his face and chuckled. She grabbed his shirt by the sides this time and pulled it over his head revealing his torso.

She quickly glanced over his body as she felt her cheeks grow hot “umm, okay I’ll just leave your–”

Grabbing her by the hand, he gently pulled her toward him. They stood staring into each other’s eyes for a moment before their lips suddenly collided.

The urgency in their kiss and and the needy touches of their hands lead them to his bed to where he momentarily parted from the kiss and slowly laid her back onto his bed before climbing on top of her and putting a hand beneath her waist hoisting her up higher on the bed before going back to kiss her.

This was it, it was actually real. All these scenarios he had made up in his head, all of the months he spent longing to have her in his arms again was actually happening. For once it wasn’t just his imagination playing tricks on him. And if it had been, he’d only hope that he wouldn’t wake up from this moment.

Fixing himself between her legs, he ran a hand up her thigh as he hiked her dress well above it’s intended placing.

He broke from the kiss before he placed a peck on her lips as he kissed his way to her shoulder, slowly sliding the strap of her dress off.

“Fuck” he groaned “I almost forgot how soft your skin was”

She tugged on his hair when he began his attack on her neck.

“There you go with the biting” she bit her lip.

“I’d stop it if I knew you didn’t like it” he smirked into her skin.

“Fuck you” she groaned.

“And just skip all the foreplay?” he chuckled.

“Ugh–shut up Ji-Yong”

“Foreplay it is” he smirked again “gotta get this thing off you first”

He reached behind her and pulled down the zipper to her dress as he slowly began to pull it off of her, revealing every last inch of her body. He tossed the dress away before settling back between her legs and staring at her breast before he took one in his mouth.

“Mmm I am so fucking glad you went commando tonight” he languidly kissed her “Goddamn, and you still have your nipples pierced” he swirled his tongue around her bud.

“You still have your dick–ugh–pierced?”

“What?” he played with her nipple between his finger.

“Oh, was that not you?” she teased earning her a bite to the neck again “ahh, okay, okay I’m sorry!” she giggled.

“Are you trying to get me jealous?” he grabbed her by the chin forcing her to look at him.

“I don’t know, is it working?” she smirked.

He tilted his head “you’re such a fucking tease” he grinded his hips against hers causing a loud moan to escape her mouth.

“And you say I’m–ugh–the fucking tease?” she moaned as her eyes rolled back into her head.

He chuckled.

“How is it even–” she whimpered “fair that I am completely naked–ugh–and you still have your pants on?”

“Wow you want my dick that bad?” he teased.

“Get over yourself” she groaned into his shoulder.

“Oh so you can wait even longer before I actually fuck you?” he smirked “sounds good to me”

“Ji-Yong!” she whined.

“Alex!” he mimicked making himself laugh.

“I fucking hate you” she bit his shoulder.

“Go ahead and hate me more baby, you know hate sex is my favorite”

“Can you just–” she whimpered as he returned to his attack on her neck “at least take it out?” she pouted.

He chuckled again and pecked her on the lips “okay, okay I’m done teasing you”

He sat up on his knees trying to undo his belt and pants before he remembered he couldn’t only making her laugh as she reached up to help him. Tossing away his belt and pants he re-positioned himself between her legs.

“You still–ugh–have your boxers on”

“God you really do want my dick bad, huh?” he chuckled as he ground his erection into her sex.

“Oh my god Ji-Yong!” she tugged at his hair “yes okay, just please for the love of god just fuck me already!”

“Nah, I think I like seeing you like this better” he smirked.

She attempted to glare at him as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

He grinded his hips into hers one last time before leaning down to kiss his way from her sternum down to her thighs;making her take a fist full of his hair as she gasped.

“You are such and asshole” she groaned.

“Whatever you say baby” he smiled as he laid soft, teasing kisses from her knee back down toward her inner thigh.

“Ugh babe please!” she lifted her hips trying to make contact with face.

“A second ago I was an asshole” he held down her hips “now I’m babe?”

She merely rolled her eyes.

“Sounds like you can’t make up your mind to me” he smiled one more time before finally taking her bundle of nerves in his mouth.

“Oh fuck!” she moaned tugging at his hair “oh my god you are–uhng–”

“I’m what?” he mumbled into her sex as he relentlessly continued his attack on her bud.

Too busy to acknowledge him she simply threw her head back in pure ecstasy.

“I’m what babe?” he said releasing her bud and giving her slit a long lick before peppering kisses all over her abdomen.

“Why did you stop?” she whimpered releasing the death grip she had on his hair.

“I wanna know what you were gonna say” he smirked and kissed her upper thigh.

“Ji-Yong” she held the hand he wrapped around her upper thigh “please just keep going”

“Tell me what you were gonna say first” he kissed closer to her entrance sending chills down her spine.

She bit her lip “I don’t know! Please Ji keep going!”

He placed a peck on her sex “I’m sure you can think of it”

She moaned grabbing a fist full of the bed sheets.

“I don’t think that was quite what you were gonna say” he gave her another long but much slower lick up and down her slit.

“Oh my god fuck you!”

“Not until you tell me what you were gonna say” he smirked as he replaced himself between her thighs.

He reached between the two of them and pulled down his boxers as his erection sprung out from its confinement.

She bit her bottom lip trying her hardest to keep herself from giving him anymore power by moaning.

“So what were you gonna say” he took his member in his hand running the tip up and down her slit.

She whimpered.

“Tell me right now and I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk anymore” he inserted just enough of his dick into her entrance making her moan.

“Just fuck me first and then I’ll tell you” she gripped his arm.

“That wasn’t part of the deal” he smiled evilly.

“Oppa please~”

Ji-Yong couldn’t deny it made him fucking crazy when she called him Oppa; had he actually not been close to sober and completely drunk out of his mind, he would have long before began to fuck her. Hell the moment she walked into his room he would have tried his luck. But seeing her so needy to the point where she called him something that she refused to call him, he would have stopped torturing both of them and fucked her until she said stop. But Ji-Yong wanted more, he wanted to hear how much she needed him. He wanted to hear that he was the only one she could think of whenever she slept with another guy. He wanted to know she was going to be his for good.

“What did you call me?” he smirked inserting himself just slightly deeper causing another small moan to escape from her.

“Oppa” she whimpered as at the sound of the word coming out of her mouth made him go even deeper.

“That’s what I thought you said” he pulled out completely sitting back on his knees.

“Wait where are you going?” she sat up “don’t fucking tease me like this Ji-Yong, I know you’re probably upset with me because of what happened after we broke up but please, I need you” she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You need me?” he looked into her eyes “how bad do you need me?”

“So bad” she kissed his neck.

He bit his lip trying to suppress the moan sitting at the back of his throat.

“And I know you need me too” she kissed his lips as she slid a hand down to his erection and began to pump him.

‘Fuck’ he thought as he closed his eyes.

“I’m not letting you go then” he laid her back down climbing on top of her “if you want me that bad, then show me”

“Okay” she pecked him on the lips before pushing him down on his back and straddled him.

It felt like it had been going on for hours; probably because it had. For about an hour and a half Ji-Yong felt like if his heart was beating any faster he was going to go into cardiac arrest. For about two hours he felt like there was no way this was actually happening, until he made her cum the first three times…and for the last half hour, they completely forgot that anyone or anything else besides each other existed.

“moreeee” she moaned.

“Okay” he said breathlessly inserting himself deeper.

“Mmm Ji-Yong mmoreee”

He raised her leg over his shoulder allowing him an angle to go even deeper.

“Moooorreeee” she whined.

“Baby you keep saying more but I’m already balls deep!” he rested his head on her sternum.

“No I mean like faster” she held his shoulder.

He chuckled out of breath “are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Something like that” she kissed his forehead.

“Baby I need a break “he let out a heavy breath and laughed as he pulled out.

“No” she pouted and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Yes. otherwise I won’t be able to make it until tomorrow” he chuckled and pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

“Fine” she sighed.

He gave her a weak smile and brushed the matted hair on her forehead back before gently placing a kiss on her lips.

“I uhh” he cleared his throat “finally remembered what I had to say to you before…”

She chuckled “oh suddenly now you remember?”

“What can I say, you were kinda distracting” he smiled.

She playfully pushed his shoulder.

“I’m afraid if I say it though, we wont be able to stay like this” he spoke softly as he played with her hair.

“Hmm?” she closed her eyes completely relaxed from him stroking her hair.

“I really want to say it though. I just don’t want you to think it’s insincere…”

“Don’t say anything then” she said in a groggy voice.

He laughed pulling his hand away.

“Ji” she complained at the loss of his touch grasping his hand.

“Okay my bad” he chuckled and continued stroking her hair “I just–ahem–missed you I guess…I mean there’s more to it but let’s just start there”

“Shh, you’re ruining the moment” she placed a finger against his lips.

“I’m trying to start a moment what are you talking about?” he chuckled playfully biting her finger.

“Shh”

“Fine, I’ll just tell you tomorrow in the morning then” he smiled before placing a gentle kiss on her temple and closing his eyes. For the first time in months, he had actually gone to bed happy.

“Oh you little minx you” Sash teased with a wink “can’t believe you pulled a dine and dash on him though…”

“Can you not?!” I sighed heavily “and I’m pretty sure that’s not the correct terminology!”

“Alex is right” Saige chimed in.

“At least you agree with–”

“There’s nothing amusing about this Sash” Saige interjected “and you…”

“Me what?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Alexandra Marie–”

“There you go with my full name again…” I crossed my arms.

“I would have thought you would have known better by now! I don’t care how drunk you were, that guy is nothing but trouble for you!”

“Wow, okay Saige I think you can tone it down a bit. I already feel like crap no need to exacerbate the situation”

“I am not exacerbating anything!” she stood up from her spot on the bed “you were the one who absolutely despised him for months after you broke up, and now all it took was a few drinks and him acting like he needed you and here you are again; nothing but putty in his manipulative hands. Really Alex? That’s all it took for him to get you into bed with him?”

My eyes went wide “You fucking bitch–”

“Oh I’m the bitch?”

“Mhmm” I smugly nodded.

She scoffed “I did nothing but stand by you that entire time and now I’m the bitch?! All those nights you spent whining and complaining about how much he hurt you and how much of a dickhead he was and now I’m the asshole in the situation?”

“Uhm, for completely going off on me outta nowhere? I’d say yes, you are!” I furrowed my brows “I know I am a fuck up, believe me I am well aware of that, but at least I own up to my shit; you not so much. Yes, I took pity on his drunk ass last night and stayed because I was concerned and yes I slept with my douche bag of an ex-boyfriend in the heat of the moment but what the ever loving fuck am I supposed to do about it now Saige?!”

She rolled her eyes “Who are you trying to convince you don’t have a problem when it comes to him? Me or you?”

“Excuse me?” I scoffed.

“You–both of you will never admit that when it comes to you two, nothing and no one matters anymore. All you two do is tear each other apart until you can’t stand one another. Despite what you may think. You didn’t take pity on him last night Alex, you did it because you still love him” she crossed her arms.

“You are out of you goddamned mind!”

“Oh, am I?” she chuckled “You know what, you are a big girl now and you’re right I did blow up on you I’m sorry for that. Go ahead and do what you want, I can’t stop you either way, but don’t you dare, come crying to me when he hurts you again; and you know he will”

I clenched my jaw.

“Whoa okay everybody calm down” Sash raced to stand between us, holding up her hands.

“You know what?” Saige raised an eyebrow “I hope you two end up happy somehow” she said grabbing her jacket and storming out.

“Saige!” I yelled after her.

Sasha cleared her throat “I think I’m just gonna–”

“Please, I wanna be alone…”

Watching the door close behind her I let out a loud groan plopping face first into the plush pillows on the bed.

“Why does shit like this happen to me?” I said flipping over on my back and holding the pillow flush on my chest.

A rhythmic knocking came from the door.

“Ugh, now what?” I said begrudgingly getting off the bed “what did you forget something?”

The knocking continued.

“Okay, beotch I’m coming” I said swinging the door open.

“Hey” he cleared his throat.

“Ji-Yong what are you doing here?” I said going wide eyed.

“Did I interrupt something?” he raised an eyebrow.

“What? No I–”

“You called me ‘beotch’” he chuckled.

“Oh…yea that wasn’t–not you…” I sighed “come in, I don’t want anyone to see you”

He tilted his head “oooookay…..”

“What are you doing here?” I sighed closing the door and leaning against it.

“Nice to see you too” he chuckled “I came to see if you were okay”

“Why?” I scoffed.

“Judging by the hit and run you pulled on me while I was sleeping I thought I at least deserved somewhat of an explanation”

“Can we just–did you bring your car?” I said rolling my eyes.

“What?”

“I said did you bring your fucking car?!”

“Uhmm yeah….”

“Sorry I’m just–I’m just, argh! Can you just take me somewhere? I need to get the fuck out of here”

“Where to?”

“Anywhere!”

“Okay yeah, anywhere you want” he smiled shyly.

158 notes · View notes

kpopsinning · 7 years

Text

Mr. Kim - Teacher AU

“I know you weren’t in the guidance office before my class today. I also know you spend more time in my room with your eyes on me than anywhere else you should be looking,” Jin purred, walking his fingers up and down your thigh. “So why don’t you tell me the truth, darling? Eager to see me?”

word count: 3.3k

genre: smut (oral, car sex, dirty talk, uniform kink(?))

You moaned out Mr. Kim’s voice again and again as he held your wrists behind your back, ramming into you repeatedly with your chest pinned against his desk. He was being ruthless and rough with you, pulling his cock almost completely out of your already swollen core, before slamming his hips into your ass again, lurching you forward and causing more euphoric gasps and screams to leave your lips. “You like it like this, baby?” Mr. Kim purred. “You like getting fucked like this? You like being pounded where anybody could walk in at any moment?”

“Yes, Mr. Kim, I fucking love it,” you cried. “I really, really do.”

Without warning, he placed a firm slap against your ass. “I bet you do, you dirty little slut.”

The sudden blaring of your iPhone alarm jolted you awake from your rest. With a yawn, you rubbed your palms over your eyes, mulling over the wildly graphic dream about your English teacher that you were just woken so abruptly from. It was so vivid, it almost felt real. You sighed heavily. Class today should be interesting, to say the least.

Your day dragged on, slowly but surely, but the anticipation growing in the pit in your stomach became more and more prominent as your last class of the day got closer: Mr. Kim’s.

Sitting in the frigid Calculus room was nothing short of torture. On top of not being able to focus on the textbook in front of you due to your repetitive shivers, you also had to make a conscious effort to keep the events of your dream far out of your mind and your thighs pressed tightly together. You watched the clock. In just 4 minutes, the bell was going to sound and you’d have no choice but to face Mr. Kim himself, in front of 20 other people. Your breathing shook. Keep cool, you reminded yourself. No one knows about it but yourself. If you don’t make it obvious, no one will ever have any idea.

Just like your alarm, the school bell shocked you out of your thoughts. You were the first out of the class that way, making a beeline down the hallway, ready to get the final class out of the way. Students were still packing their things and filing out of the English classroom when you entered, so you waited patiently by the door for your desk to be open. As soon was it was, you made your way to your seat in the front of the room, setting your bag down beside you and taking out the respective text for the class.

“You’re early, (YN),” Mr. Kim’s caramel-smooth voice surprised you and you looked up to see him standing before your desk, towering over your seated body. “Any particular reason for that?”

“Oh, um..” you racked your brain for any quick excuse you could think up. “I was out of Calc early because I had to make a visit at the guidance office,” you lied through your teeth. You hoped there wasn’t a noticeable tint to your cheeks as you looked up at the very face of the man who you dreamt of fucking in this very room only eight hours before. His fantastically pouty, pink lips were curved into a close-mouthed smile down at you. You looked directly up into his fudge-brown eyes, his glued back at yours with a trace of something you couldn’t read. Neither of you said a word for what felt like hours, but was truly only a few seconds, until he stood back up straight. He ran his fingers through his light blonde hair (that so beautifully contrasted the darkness of his eyes) and spoke. “Okay, well in that case, you might want to actually avert your eyes to your book today. We’ve got much to go over.”

The rest of the period continued as if that exchange between the two of you never happened. Mr. Kim was his usual, bubbly self, making his rounds throughout the class, making absolutely sure everybody understood the material before going on. Your mind, however, was in a completely different place. Every time you looked away from the text for one second, your thoughts would rewind back to the little chat you had with Mr. Kim, and then back further to your fantasy from the night before. You crossed your legs and let out a shallow breath, forcing your eyes back down to the words on the page in front of you once again.

As soon as you came to terms with the fact that this torment would go on forever, the final bell rang and everyone stood to get their things together. “Don’t forget about the assignment due Thursday,” Mr. Kim shouted over the light chatter in the room. Once more, his eyes met yours. “I’ll see you guys soon,” he said, undoubtedly, to nobody but you.

You fidgeted with your notebooks, clumsily getting them into your bag as fast as possible. “H-Have a nice day, Mr. Kim,” you stuttered, exiting the room as quickly as your legs would carry you.

Once at your locker and far away from Mr. Kim’s room, you felt yourself relax. You turned the lock and swung open the rickety metal door, dropping your copious amount of textbooks to the floor before slamming it shut again. You popped your earbuds in and swung your lanyard around your finger absentmindedly, ready to go home. You vibed to your favorite band’s new album as you made the hike across the lot to your small, old car, parked in the back under some trees. You always made sure to get to school early in the morning to snag a parking spot in the shade to keep your car from getting too hot throughout the day.

What happened next was truly the icing on the cake of your already hectic day- your car wouldn’t start. “Fuck,” you muttered, turning the key in the ignition again and again. Then, you realized your mistake. Looking up, you realized you had left the interior lights on for the entire day. “Fuck!” you repeated, quickly switching off the lights and attempting to start your car again, but to no avail. You sighed, resting your head against the steering wheel.

The parking lot was getting impressively sparse, with only another roughly 10 cars parked in it. You looked around for anybody who might be leaving soon, in hopes of finding somebody with jumper cables to get your car running again. Of course, there was no one.

You got out of your car and sat on the hood, laying back against the windshield exasperatedly. You scrolled through your contacts on your phone, looking for someone you could call to possibly save the day, but of course, you didn’t know anybody near enough and your parents were at work for at least another two hours. Giving up finally, you reached back into your car and grabbed out your bag, deciding to sit on the hood and work on homework until somebody else left the building that could come to help.

After a good 15 minutes, you were pulled from the novel in your hands when you heard the heavy wooden door click shut. When you looked up, of course, who other than Mr. Kim himself would be the person making his way over to his car with stacks of papers in his hands? You almost groaned at sight of him, a disheveled mess, his round-rimmed glasses holding his blonde hair out of his face as he searched his pockets for his keys. “Mr. Kim!” you shouted across the lot.

Your voice startled him, and he almost dropped everything he was lugging to his car “(YN)?”

“Mr. Kim,” you said again, climbing off your car and heading towards his. “I’m sorry to bother you, but can you help me? My car won’t start, I left the lights on and now the battery is dead and-”

“Shhh,” he hushed you, placing his index finger over your lips. The sudden touch sent chills all the way down your spine to your core. You sucked in a sharp breath and he drew his finger away with a smirk. “I’d be more than happy to help you. Let me pull my car over.”

“Oh- Okay, sure,” you mentally punched yourself for being incapable of speaking in front of him.

You started walking back in the direction of your car, but were soon stopped. “Hey (YN), want a ride? It’s kind of a long walk back over there.” Mr. Kim was sat in the driver’s seat of his car, leaning over the center console and speaking up to you from the rolled down passenger window.

Your jaw was agape. What the fuck is going on? “Yeah, I guess,” you agreed, stepping up to his passenger door and swinging it open, climbing in.

Your mind was going a million miles an hour, having never been in such close proximity to Mr. Kim before in a private setting. It took every ounce of self control in your body to not stare over at his artfully sculpted face. Instead your eyes found their way to his veiny, toned arms. His sleeves were rolled up messily, something he never did during school hours. You admired his skin, so beautifully tanned and smooth looking, down to his large, thin hand, fingers wrapped casually around the steering wheel.

“Like what you see?” Mr. Kim asked, stopping and shutting the car off beside your own, facing the woods.

“I-” You began to respond but your voice was stuck in your throat in response what he just said. You were caught. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim,” you said sheepishly, feeling your face and chest turn a bright shade of pink.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he chuckled, unbuckling his seatbelt. “And please, school is over, you can call me Jin.”

Jin, you breathed deeply, closing your eyes. That’s such a gorgeous name, fitting for such a gorgeous man. “Okay, Jin.” Your voice came out as barely a whisper. You reached for the door handle, ready to get your car fixed so you could go home as soon as possible, but Jin’s strong hand on your bare thigh stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Going somewhere?”

Your eyes were glued to his firm grip, dangerously high up on your thigh. His fingers were millimeters from the hem of your skirt. When you finally looked up to meet his gaze, Jin’s face was no more than an inch from yours. “I… I guess not,” you stammered.

“I didn’t think so.” Jin’s voice was low and deep, his face remaining devilishly close to yours. He squeezed your thigh, lightly, but enough to emit a reaction from you. Instinctively, the touch caused you to press your thighs together. Jin chuckled. “What’s wrong, (YN)?” Jin’s face was impossibly closer to yours by now, you could clearly smell the mint on his breath and your noses brushed against one another every time you stumbled over your words. “I know you weren’t in the guidance office before my class today. I also know you spend more time in my room with your eyes on me than anywhere else you should be looking,” Jin purred, walking his fingers up and down your thigh. “So why don’t you tell me the truth, darling? Eager to see me?”

“I guess you could say that,” you whispered back.

“Well, you can see anything you want now, baby.” At long last, Jin used his free hand to wrap behind your neck, closing the distance between you two, kissing you softly, but irritatingly slowly. After the first, he pulled away hesitantly, as if to make sure his actions were okay with you. You, however, were growing impatient with Jin’s teasing and decided to take the matter into your own hands. With the sudden burst of confidence you took Jin’s thin black tie between your fingers and pulled him much closer to you, causing a much more heated and forceful kiss between the two of you.

You barely noticed Jin’s fingers sneaking their way underneath your skirt, until he applied pressure over the lace of your panties with his two middle digits. “Baby girl,” Jin breathed, his voice so heavily laced with lust you felt like you could come undone listening to him alone. “You’re soaking.” You opened your mouth to tell Jin about how you’ve been waiting for him in this way for hours now, but he took the opportunity to catch your bottom lip between his teeth, earning a soft moan of approval instead. He continued to rub you through your now ruined panties while drowning out all of your moans with his tongue.

“Baby,” Jin mumbled into your mouth. You retracted, looking at him. “Please touch me. I’m going to cum in my pants if you don’t do something.”

“Okay.” You used both of your hands to fiddle with the buckle of his belt, and once that was out of the way, you unzipped his black work pants. Jin sat up so he could shake them down to his thighs, and his erection was now begging to be set free from his boxers. Your mouth watered at the sight of it, and all you wanted to do was taste him. You looked up at him from your position leaning over the center console, face practically already in his lap and desperation was plastered all over the both of your faces. “Tell me what you want me to do,” you said.

“Take it out and put it in your mouth,” Jin requested.

Without hesitation you did as you were told, and Jin watched as you hooked your index fingers over the hem of his underwear, pulling them down in a slow but swift motion. You couldn’t help the gasp that entered your lungs when you saw the entirety of Jin’s cock springing upright against his toned chest. Intimidated by the size but more than ready to taste every last inch of him, you grabbed it at the base, looking back up at his face. You kept your eyes glued to his as you licked a stripe up the whole length of him, cleaning up the small amount of precum secreting from the tip. Those beautifully plump lips of his were parted ever so slightly as he watched your every move. “Please,” he repeated.

You smiled, liking the sound of that coming from him. You granted him his wish, bringing your lips over the tip. Taking a deep breath, you took a major risk and brought your mouth as far down Jin’s length that you could, eventually feeling his amazingly long cock hitting the back of your throat. “Fuuuuuck,” Jin groaned. “Just a little further, baby,” he begged, “if you can handle it. You almost have my whole cock in your mouth. Fuck, you’re so amazing.” You lifted your head from him slightly, before bracing yourself and finally pushing his rock-solid cock fully into you. You gagged on it, which embarrassed you at first, but Jin seemed to love it. Numerous sounds were leaving his mouth at a steady pace now. Suddenly you felt him ball up your hair in his fist, and he pulled your face away from his cock with a loud ‘pop’ sound. “Do you want to be fucked now? Because if you do that any longer, I’m gonna shoot my load down your throat and you won’t have the chance.”

You nodded, wiping away the few tears that welled in your eyes from his cock. “I do,” you breathed, slowly pumping his length that was moist from your spit.

“Well,” Jin began, pulling a lever causing his seat to recline completely back, “take a seat, why don’t you?” He held his member straight up in the air, and the sight of him made your walls tense around nothing; his blonde hair you admired so much was beginning to stick to his forehead with sweat, his tie was loosely hanging around his neck, and his shirt and pants an unbuttoned mess around his limbs. “I’m waiting,” he purred.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said, “You just look like a full course meal right now.”

You started to pull your uniform, black-plaid skirt down, but Jin grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “Leave that on,” he commanded. “Get the panties off, but leave that skirt on.”

“You’re filthy,” you said, but the idea of fucking your teacher while still wearing your school uniform turned you on infinitely more than you’d ever admit, so you wasted no time in doing exactly what you were told. You then climbed onto Jin’s side, straddling his waist, taking his cock into your own hand. You held your hips in line with his, watching his face as you wet the tip with your dripping arousal. Jin’s jaw was slack, his dark eyebrows furrowed tightly together, watching your every move in amazement. Slowly, you eased yourself onto him, feeling him fill you up completely. You both let out drawn out moans in response to the contact that you longed so desperately for. After a few seconds of adjusting to his impressive size, you began to ride him, lifting your hips and letting him almost completely fall out of you, then easily gliding back down to fill you back up in all the right places.

“You are unbelievable,” Jin breathed out, holding your hips in place from underneath your skirt so he could get a good look at how much he was really stretching you out. “Can I?” You nodded, not entirely sure what he was asking to do but you knew you were ready for it. “Bend down,” Jin demanded. You obeyed immediately, attaching your lips to his neck and leaving marks all up and down it. “Are you ready?” he asked. Again, you simply nodded, having no idea what you were in for. “Good,” Jin grunted. He brought both of his hands to your ass, holding your body steady as he began to thrust upwards into you, fast. You cried out profanities over and over, feeling him hitting your g-spot roughly with every snap of his hips. Your breathing was wild, you resorted to burying your face in his neck to stifle the uncontrollable gasps and moans falling out of your mouth. You knew you were getting close and Jin did too. “Do you want to cum together, baby girl?”

You mewled at the pet name he gave you. “Yes, Jin, oh my God, please make me cum.”

“Certainly.” After that word left his lips, Jin began slamming into you even faster than before, while also bringing a thumb to your clit. He rubbed at the sensitive area quickly all while fucking you like no one ever has before, and in a matter of seconds you were seeing stars as you reached your orgasm, walls pulsating uncontrollably over his cock. “Did you cum baby? Did you get your juices all over me?” You couldn’t speak, you just shook your head at him approvingly as you came down from your high. “Good girl.” Jin got into a sitting position while keeping himself inside of you. “Ride me again. I’m so fucking close, it won’t even- ah fuck…” And that was it. You began grinding yourself into him as soon as he told you to do so and before you knew it, Jin was digging his teeth harshly into your shoulder as you felt him shoot his load deep inside you. “Oh, my God.” Jin fell back against the still-reclined seat, and you lifted your aching hips from his, sitting back in the passenger seat.

“Thank you, Mr. Kim,” you blushed at the sound of your own voice, thanking your teacher for such an erotic experience.

“Jin, please call me Jin.” He laughed lightly, a familiar sound to you. “Let’s start up your car, yeah? Maybe you can remember to leave the lights on again sometime soon.”

#jin #jin smut #seokjin smut #kim seokjin smut #bts smut #bts #by amanda #teacher au

930 notes · View notes

dromjournal · 5 years

Text

The Alternative Routes

17 January 2018

*I* (main character, not really any hints of features, likely male or male presenting) goes to the house of a sibling/close friend who lives at farmlands at the bottom of a big hill covered in woods. There is a small house next to a river that goes across the landscape, having bridges both at the road and by the house. The big road takes off straight left to the house at the bottom of the hill. I’m going there to train some bunnies I think? I go down the big road, saying hello to some locals that seems to manually be digging out the grounds for a new house on the hill - the community here is small and tight knit. A little later down the road I meet a woman 30-40s arranging wooden boards for the house, and I talk to her a little. She say she is impressed by the young man building the house all by himself and she had always wanted one but didnt think it was possible, so she felt like she should help him for taking this step and showing them its possible. I go with her to the school that lies close to there, saying hi to some kids I know and because she is picking up her daughter. It becomes clear here that the inhabitants of this village have psychic powers that are kinda special for their bloodlines, thinking I am super weird being an adult that can’t do it. Anyway we pick up her daughter and she (here I get the feeling she is not a lot younger than me at all at like 14 but yeah its a bit hard to get a feeling of my character) is going to show me the way as she is also going down the hill, the mother going back to helping with the house. We hit it off and its a nice walk. At almost the bottom I see some kind of large clock in the distance (like on a church tower), but it doesnt seem to work right, and point it out. She grows silent at this and kinda confused, then distressed, before starting to kinda burn and spit fire everywhere and finally going up in flames completely, leaving only ashes left. I dont dare to touch her, Im just panicking. Not sure what to do and with no phone or anything I continue down to my brother to get help. But when I get there soon after my brother is acting very strange, hysteric almost, and there’s a bunch of people there that are suggested I know kinda closely. My brother refers to all of us by like, online gaming handles, and I think that’s how we all know each other. Then he appears happy to finally get to do his “game”, standing us out on the big road asphalt bridge as were all confused. He explains it like this: He is going to be hunting the rest of us down, trying to kill us. The rest of us are to hide and try to get the upper hand. The sweetest person in the group is given a gun, and another person is taken hostage by holding a large knife against his neck to make sure well go through with it. The rest of us have no kind of defense, so the gun is both a reason to turn on each other and kill each other. Only one person is coming out alive. Some Battle Royale shit. The nice person jumps into the river to get away, but then so does my brother, disappearing under the dark water. You can then tell nice dude is getting stabbed multiple times despite the water being dark. People start running in fear. I somehow turn on my own power, my head hurting and heart racing. I don’t know what I’m doing as I somehow jumps back in time to get over this.

A pale skinned girl stares at me, confused at the face I am making. It’s the girl/daughter from before. We have taken another way and are going through the forest this time. We are still on our way down and for the second time I notice the broken clock. Then boom, the girl go up in flames this time too. However due to the foggy ground she doesn’t burn entirely, and you can still tell there’s a body. Still having no better solution, I do as I did the last time and leave to continue down the hill. But this time the mother had walked after us after a while and she finds her girls dead body, thinking she was killed. She goes into a rage, flying basically down to kill every single person at the bottom, basically burn everything to the ground. I had just gotten to the bottom this time as I hear her coming, but as we had walked inside the forest I wasn’t at the house. She’s much faster, immediately going to the house and acres to burn everything like a big dragon-ish. I notice people in the forest not too far from where I am and I walk over there, where I meet up with brother and a bunch of others while they attempt to escape up the hill. They had gotten away by going into the stream and following the water. It turns out they (and me!) are some kind of forest pixie-creatures, not really powerful in any way but it’s still a magical thing. Aka we are not in a human realm at all, which kinda explains some things. Unfortunately the dragon-mom have noticed some people and comes over, burning the entire forest to the ground in big fireballs. My brother are running with two younger kids, but we are pretty far up. She is rapidly approaching - and her fire comes before she does. We all hide under some shit, saving us from the fire and hoping she’ll just continue past us. She goes past me without stopping, but as she gets to my brother she swoops down and kick him out of hiding, blaming him for her daughters death. I then jump out of my own hiding, yelling at her that it was me who did it. I tell her exactly what happened, and she is sad. She is no longer on fire, rather looking really gloomy and cold. After I’m done telling her she says she just wishes I had gone back and told her what happened right away with sad sad eyes, and then she leaves. I rewind time again, set on getting it right. This time I never mention the clock, instead tries to keep the girls attention off it. She makes it down the hill and parts with me without catching on fire :) I walk to my brothers house, where things are strange and tense. My brother acts aggressive but haven’t tried to kill anyone, so I consider that progress. Scared still he’ll hurt my bunnies directly or indirectly (by leaving them in their cages while killing me) I take them to the woods, trying to help them dig a burrow before releasing them so they will have somewhere to escape. While digging I run into a pixie, being a little annoyed I’m digging for some reason. I follow him, which makes him anxious, because he very obviously tries to get inside a door without me noticing that appears out of nowhere but seems to have a set time before it disappears again. I ignore him and walk right in while he protests. Inside there is a lot of peopleish looking pixies that run around. There’s seems to be one in charge, sitting around on something like a throne, greeting me like they’ve been expecting me. This is apparently a collection of minor gods living here in what do looks like a windowless house, and so are we though we are even more minor being stuck in one realm. There is a fox following me from the moment I stepped inside here, but it’s not actually an animal so much as my own curiosity in the shape of a fox, and they tell me I should feed it or it will run away from me. They seem pleased to have me there. I follow it down some empty stairs to what looks like a hallway and the actual front door of this place. I open the door and look outside at entire worlds passing by, seeing hundred of tiny blue shiny “strings” being pulled from me in different directions and different planets. I realize that every second I spend on this ~ship~, I create a thousand splintered realities, somehow leaving my DNA footprint across the universe and possibly having a billion babies or something. I make the decision to jump out just as I see all strings suddenly weave together in one again and follow it out of the ship. My reality is back to what it was “supposed” to be with one stable string and I am back at the top of the mountain - but now things are devoid of colour or nuance, everything is black and white. (Not grayscale, I’m talking black or white.) As I get down this time and meet my brothers eyes it hits me that this is exactly what have happened to my brother too and that’s why he’s like that. He was splintered and despite jumping off, his soul was now falling apart. He could only see the black or white. Nothing looked pretty to him in the world anymore. He saw the world from the eyes of a god but the mind of a human. (Also a lot more time than I expected had passed, a couple of years at least.) I rewind once again. This time I rewind back to when my brother first arrived. Turns out there was three other people that had arrived with him, but they had kinda left him as he got hurt. One of them, his girlfriend, had been taken by some kind of creature in the trees and he asked me to get her back because he still loved her even if she left him. The creature was basically just hugging her so tight she couldn’t move, swinging from tree to tree. I did somehow get her free, but it was apparent she wasn’t herself anymore as she immediately tried to hug a hold of something. I woke up around here though. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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iwrotemywayto-revolution · 7 years

Text

If you love someone

Request: You’re dating Daveed and playing Eliza, and Lin is pining for you like nobody’s business.

Pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda x reader, Daveed Diggs x reader

Warnings: piiiiining, drunkenness

Word count: 2,187

A/N: let’s hear it for day five (sorry it’s published on day six because life got in the way) of the @hamwriters writeathon... also known as “reverse pov” day. title from the Sting song “if you love somebody set them free”

@gonnamurderyou, @pearltheartist, @whitestorm547, @pancakebunny

Lin didn’t fall in love with you right away. When you auditioned for the ensemble, he was pleased with your skills and your potential. When you became fast friends with everyone and started to turn up in whatever dressing room the cast was crashing in during the afternoon, he laughed and got to know you. When you became the alternate for the Schuyler sisters, he was a little nervous, but you never seemed to be needed on the nights he was there.

When Pippa decided to take a month off, making you the full-time Eliza, he realised he was screwed.

The night of the first performance, Lin was uncharacteristically nervous. Groff sauntered into his room about an hour before places, most of his costume on though his hair was still brown and loose. “Hey,” he grinned and flopped on Lin’s couch, “you look nervous.”

“No more than usual,” Lin insisted, gaze fixed on the video game he was playing. Groff picked up a controller and joined in, a little player two has entered the game notification flashing at the corner of the screen.

Groff smoothly vaulted over an obstacle and grabbed the coins stashed there. “Is it Y/N?” he asked conversationally. Lin promptly dropped his control. He scrambled for it, swearing as his character was killed. Groff laughed, “How apt.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Lin said resolutely, quickly regenerating his character. His slight blush gave him away and Groff smirked triumphantly.

“Someone has a cru-ush,” he said in a sing-song voice. Lin shoved him lightly.

“I do not have a crush,” he said, “Crushes are for high-schoolers.” He just enjoyed your company, had grown used to having you curled up in a corner, reading or chatting. You were kind and funny and of course he liked you. Just not like that, right?

It wasn’t until Helpless that Lin realised exactly how wrong he was. You were captivating. He found it difficult to concentrate on Renee at all when you were there, staring back at him with adoration in your eyes. He had to keep reminding himself that he it was just good acting and that needed to concentrate before he found himself messing up Alexander’s smooth flirtations.

You looked at him like he was the sun, and he found himself wishing he could pretend, just for a moment, that you meant it.

“Elizabeth Schuyler,” you curtsied, “It’s a pleasure to meet you?”

“Schuyler?” Lin was supposed to look at Renee but he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Renee laughed, “My sister!”

He bent to kiss your hand. “Thank you for your service,” you said as he straightened.

“If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it.” He extended an arm to you. You took it and the two of you moved into the dance.

The wedding march started playing and Lin’s heart was thumping painfully loudly. Oak walked down the aisle and tossed his flower petals and you sang your final “helpless”. Lin moved forwards and gently kissed you. He felt hyper aware of your hands in his, the slight brush of the veil against his face, and the fireworks display behind his eyes.

He was in love. As the lights dimmed, he decided to ask you out after the show.

The transition to Satisfied started and you moved away. Lin focused on getting into place, one arm around your waist. In a moment he would kiss you again, he realised. Your emotions were so rawly presented in your acting and the kiss- as staged as it was- had felt real. It had felt so natural to cup your cheek, pull you to his side, look down at you as if you were his world.

Rewind, rewind-

The stage started to rotate and Lin readied himself to go through it all again.

After the show he changed into a comfy pair of jeans,a t-shirt, and his favourite hoodie. He hurried downstairs, hoping to catch you before you went to the stage door.

When he arrived, you were talking to Daveed. Swallowing his disappointment, Lin pretended to be looking for his phone until Daveed grinned and left to stage door. “Hey Y/N,” he said, going for a casual tone but knowing he probably sounded anything but, “you doing anything after we stage-door?”

You looked around, checking to see if anyone else had made it downstairs yet. “Lin,” you whispered, unable to contain your excitement, “Daveed just asked me out!”

His heart sank. "That's great!" He managed to say. He should be happy for you, he knew- you looked happy, grinning and all but dancing around the room- but bitterness had settled in his stomach.

He was too late. Daveed had got there first. A small part of him hoped it wouldn't last. The rest of him reminded him to be happy for you and Daveed.

Three weeks later, you and Daveed were still dating. Most days, you were Lin's Eliza for a tantalizing two hours. The rest of the time, you were as distant as the stars.

Daveed was affectionate- pulling you to his side, kissing your forehead, your hands, your cheeks, your lips. Even when you weren’t together, he talked about you with a fond smile, writing rap verses about you between shows.

Lin resigned himself to a broken heart and tried not to dwell on every moment where he got to hold you, kiss you, and pretend you were his and he was yours.

In March, the whole cast got together to celebrate Groff’s birthday. Everyone gathered on the roof of the Richard Rogers, thankful that the weather was warm, and ate and drank.

Lin sat with Chris. “You alright, man?” Chris asked, passing him a beer.

“Hmm?” Lin asked, gaze still on where you and Daveed were dancing in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Chris followed Lin’s gaze, understanding dawning. “You’ve got to move on,” he said sympathetically, “Y/N and Diggs are happy.”

Lin avoided answering by taking a swig of beer. He knew he had to move on, he had tried- fuck, had he tried. But every time he thought he might be able to move on, he would go onstage as Alexander and fall in love with his Eliza all over again or you would tell him a silly joke or start dancing to your favourite song backstage.

As the evening went on, Lin got progressively drunker. Chris had left at some point- his wife wanted him home a bit earlier- and Lin had been reduced to leaning on Leslie.

“I don’t think you should have any more,” Leslie said firmly, pulling the shot out of Lin’s grip. “Why don’t you go and lie down in your room?”

Lin nodded distractedly but did as Leslie had suggested. He headed down the stairs, pausing in the common room when he saw you. You were sitting on the table, legs swinging, quietly singing Helpless as you typed on your phone.

“S’beautiful,” Lin said and you looked up, pausing your singing.

“Hey Lin,” you smiled and your smile was like the song, “you alright?”

He nodded and walked over to you, leaning against the table beside you. He was drunk, he knew, but the nerves that he usually experienced when talking to you were gone, so it wasn’t so bad, really.

“You’re lovely,” he sighed, leaning his head on your shoulder, “my ‘Liza.” You laughed and Lin sat up. “Do that again?” he asked.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Your laugh,” Lin gestured vaguely, “it’s nice.”

You hopped down off the table and extended a hand to Lin. “Come on,” you said, “lets get you home.”

Lin took your hand and let you guide him into his jacket and then out to a taxi. He leaned heavily against you. You got into the taxi and gave the driver Lin’s address, helping Lin guide the seatbelt into the buckle.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew you were helping him out of the taxi and into the apartment building. “Where’s your key?” you asked gently. Lin stuck his hand into his pockets and handed you a pencil, a crumpled up piece of paper, his subway pass, and finally his keys.

“Here,” he said proudly as you set to unlocking the door. His apartment was dark, largely unfurnished because, even after a few months, he was mostly living in the theatre.

You helped him to bed, finding his pyjamas as Lin kicked off his shoes and threw his coat over a hook by the door. He headed through and flopped on the bed, on top of the covers. You laughed. “Lin,” you complained, “you have to get under the covers.”

Lin’s only response was a groan, but he let you prod him until he got into bed properly. You disappeared into the kitchen before returning with a glass of water and a tylenol. “Take this in the morning,” you advised, “sleep well.”

As you turned to go, Lin reached for you hand. “Stay-” he insisted, tugging you weakly.

“I can’t,” you said, trying to make him let go.

He wasn’t sure what made him say it, but he held on and said “I love you”.

You were silent for a moment, your expression unreadable. “Don’t,” you said quietly, your eyes closed. You pulled out your phone. You typed something out and clicked send, “you don’t mean that.”

“Do,” he insisted stubbornly, “lots. Wish you were my ‘Liza.”

You sat down on the edge of the bed. “Go to sleep, Lin,” you said quietly, “I’ll stay.” He loosened his grip on your hand and closed his eyes. The last thing he felt before he fell asleep was the feeling of your fingers running gently through his hair.

When Lin woke up in the morning he had a pounding headache and you were gone. He wandered around the apartment to make sure, mentally berating himself for telling you he loved you. You were happy with Daveed- you didn’t need him getting in the way.

Lin ran a hand through his hair, remembering you doing the same the night before. He was an idiot. A glance at the clock revealed that he needed to get going if he wanted to make it to rehearsal on time.

Andy wanted to run through some changes in the choreography for Yorktown, and it was all hands on deck. You would be there, he realised, and so would Daveed.

“Good work,” Andy said approvingly. Everyone grinned and started to put away their bayonets. Andy spotted Lin and called to him, “Hey Lin? Can we run It’s Quiet Uptown while we’re here?”

He nodded distractedly, looking around for you. When he had arrived, anxious to apologise to you, you had been nowhere to be seen.

“Looking for Y/N?” Renee asked, appearing at his side, one eyebrow raised. Lin nodded, wondering how she was always so good at guessing, “I heard about last night.”

“You did?” his voice seemed higher than usual and, if her smirk was anything to go by, Renee had noticed.

“So you love her,” she said, smirk settling into something more sympathetic. Lin nodded hopelessly. Renee hugged him briefly before heading to places. Lin headed to stand in the centre of the turntable, waiting for you to come and stand beside him.

Renee started to sing “There are moments that the words don’t reach-” and Lin found himself hoping for your forgiveness himself.

When he started to cry at the end and you were to reach for his hand, Lin wondered if you would. But your hand slipped into his and you rested your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Lin whispered as Renee finished the song.

You squeezed his hand. Lin hoped that meant he was forgiven.

He was just grabbing a couple of things from his room when you knocked hesitantly on the door and walked in. “Hey Lin?” you asked.

Lin turned his head so quickly he cricked his neck. He winced and rubbed at it. “Yeah?”

“About last night...” your hands were in your pockets and your gaze firmly on the floor.

Lin gulped. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, wanting to hug you in apology but realising that might be a little weird. “I didn’t want to-”

“I know,” you said. You pushed your hair out of your eyes- you had been saying you needed a haircut- and met Lin’s gaze. “Look,” you said firmly, “maybe there was a time where I felt... like that.”

Disappointment settled like a stone in Lin’s stomach. So he had been too late. “You did?” he knew he sounded hopeful. How had he missed any inkling that you might have felt the same?

“I did,” You took a deep breath. “But not any more. I’m with Daveed now and, whatever this is, it needs to stop.”

Lin nodded. “Friends?” he suggested, feeling almost scared. He couldn’t lose you- not now, not ever. Not his Y/N, not his Eliza. Except that you weren’t “his” Y/N.

You nodded, looking relieved. “Yeah,” you grinned, “Friends.” You hugged Lin tightly and Lin closed his eyes and hugged you back.

It would be enough.

#lin manuel miranda x reader #daveed diggs x reader #hamwriters writeathon #lin x reader #lin miranda x reader #writeathon #hamwriters

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caliboyjaeffrey · 7 years

Text

I’ll Save the Prince (Prince!Ten x Reader)

Rating: PG-ish?

(A/N) How goes it? Are all of you deceased from NCT’s comeback??? I know I sure as hell am!! Before I delve into all the smutty requests coming up, I thought I’d rewind for a moment and give you all some fluffy Ten, which a lovely anon requested! This is a Prince AU, with a HUGE twist. I got really involved with the story RIP

The sun was blazing, far too bright for its own good, as it shone down brilliantly on the capital city. The market place was crowded with people on the lookout for deals, trying to make their meager amounts of money last. You felt the familiar weight of coins press against your thigh in your apron pocket, your hand cupping the cool metal protectively as you squeezed between stalls. In your family, money had recently become sparse, so every coin was precious and worth thousands more than it truly was. You had to be smart and calculate the best possible deals, using your sharp mind to its full potential. Market day had been your responsibility since your mother had passed away, your father following her fate not even a few hours later, unable to live a day without his beloved wife. That had been years ago though, and you were stronger know, had a stronger mind, and a tongue that would make a knight quiver in his armor. You were not one to be messed with.

You shopped swiftly, the sun over your head functioned as your clock, not wanting to waste a single second. You needed to get back to your brother as soon as possible, you were afraid to leave him alone for too long. On your way back home, you stopped by the apothecary, picking up the herbs used in your brother's daily tea. As you entered your house, the pathetic jingle of coins in your pocket set a lump in your throat, knowing you were running low. You wouldn't be able to afford your brother's medicine now. You had to figure out a plan fast. You called out warmly, "I'm home," slipping out of your clogs as you walked up the steep stairs of your thin house. You entered the house's only room, a big one where your whole family used to sleep and cook. Now it was just you and your twin brother, who laid in his straw bed, sweat pouring down his feverish brow. You hurried over to him, dropping the basket you'd used for the market, "Oh, no." You bit your lip and took a cloth you kept by the bed and soaked it in a bowl of water, dabbing your brother's forehead as he panted in his fever induced sleep. His eyes cracked open slightly, whimpering pathetically as he lifted a shaky hand to still yours, "It's no use, ______." Tears were welling up inside of you, but they were filled with anger; anger at yourself that you couldn't do anything to make him feel better. You swallowed them, putting on a brave face for your twin, "Hush, now. Stop being a pessimist and get some rest, I'll make your tea." Through his glazed over eyes, you saw him give you a familiar hard stare that was common when he had been well. He didn't say a word, letting you rest the cloth on his forehead and pick up your basket, watching you diligently make his bitter tasting tea. When you had finished, you brought the steaming cup over to him, blowing on the hot liquid to make it a comfortable temperature. Satisfied after you dipped you tongue into the bitter liquid with a scrunched face, you offered the cup to him, "Drink up." Your brother didn't even bother to crane his neck, simply refusing it, "What's the point _______?" He wouldn't even meet your gaze as he swallowed thickly, "At this pint I'd rather just die than drink that damned tea." You slammed the cup down onto the bedside table, fury in your eyes as you snapped, "Don't say that! Don't you dare ever say that!" Your twin smiled wryly, "It's okay, _____, you don't have to try anymore. I'll be okay." You felt something in you break as his words washed over you, your voice cracking, "I won't be okay though." You buried your head into the bed, feeling a weak hand stroke your hair as you sobbed, "I don't want to be alone." Your brother didn't say anything else, having already drifted back to his feverish dreaming, his hand sliding off head and landing softly on the bed. You sat up, furiously rubbing the tears from your eyes, realizing what you needed to do. No point in laying around crying, no one was going to save you from this. You had to save yourself. You determinedly stood up, fists clenching as you walked over to the only wardrobe in the entire house. It was a dark imposing piece of wood, inside was the key to saving your brother. You ripped open the double doors, revealing a suit of armor that glittered in the sunlight that fell across it. You were temporarily blinded, shielding your eyes from the sudden assault of light. When they adjusted you reached in and took out the helm, examining the strange piece of metal, beautiful as it was. Engraved into shining silver was the royal crest, only present on the helmets of those who served in the royal guard, protectors of the royal family. Before he had become ill, your brother's specific job was to guard the crown prince, heir to the entire kingdom, no light task for sure. You set the helmet down gently, careful to not awaken your brother, who would be furious if he knew of your plan. You grabbed what could only be your twin's most prized possession, a beautiful broad sword that had been made just for him by the royal blacksmith. You unsheathed the heavy weapon, gazing upon its cruel beauty as it seemed mocked you. You felt as though it was testing if you were actually going to go through with your plan. With a whisper, you spat a fiery challenge, "Watch me." Having decided, you walked down the stairs and out your house, hailing down a messenger with one of your prized coins. You spoke swiftly, the page not missing a beat, "Deliver this message to Sir Johnny, Captain of the Royal Guard: 'My brother is finally better and he's eager to return to the Guard. Please stop by the house to meet him tomorrow morn. _______.' Got it? Now off with you!" The page nodded as you pressed the coin into his palm, running at a break neck speed to the imposing castle. In the bright cloudless day, it was the only thing that could block out the sun, it's towers and spires stabbing into the sky proudly. You clenched your fists again, feeling ready to accept your new challenge: impersonate your brother and take his place in the Royal Guard in order to save him!

You woke even before the stars had been chased away by the sun, creeping around your house to ready yourself for your first day as a member of the Royal Guard. You splashed your face with cool water in the washroom, debating whether it would be worth it to cut your hair or not. Regardless of the situation, you were still just a girl who could hardly stand the thought of cutting off her tresses. You decided just to tie it up, your brother's hair had grown quite long anyway and he hadn't been seen by his guard friends for about a month. Although you were twins, your height differed slightly and your face was rounder and more feminine, a rosy glow that couldn't be hidden. As you stared back at your face in the small mirror, you thought it would be best to avoid showing your face at all times, glad that you had the helmet to shield yourself. You quickly dressed into your brother's clothes, taking a moment to tuck the covers of your twin's blanket up to his chin, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Johnny couldn't see him, or else your plan would be foiled. So your story was to pretend that you yourself had fallen ill and were extremely contagious, that would keep him away. You finished getting ready, clumsily donning the armor by memory as you tried to remember how your brother did it. You had some difficulty with the chest plate, the size a bit too big for your smaller frame, but you had to make it work somehow. After minutes of struggling and worrying you would hear a knock on the door at any moment, you finished, placing the claustrophobic helmet on your head, but keeping the visor open to breath. Only your eyes could be seen poking through, your long lashes the only indicator of your true identity. Only a complete fool could tell the difference by accident. It was at that exact moment you heard the excited knocking on your heavy wooden door, your heart beat picking up as you trudged down the stairs. Your hand shook as you grasped the handle and pulled, revealing the handsome face and lovely long hair of the Royal Guard's Captain, and your brother's best friend, Johnny. "Oh, man! It's been too long!," he laughed, embracing you warmly as he clapped your shoulder. "It's amazing you're finally back on your feet, and so quickly. And here I thought I would never see you again, yeah?" You gulped, this was your first test, lips already quivering as you replied with a poor imitation of your brother's voice, "Well, all thanks goes to my sister...pal?" You wanted to slap yourself, ready to have your helmet ripped off and your true identity to be revealed by Johnny. What kind of punishment would you receive? Impersonating someone was a crime, right? Right?! Johnny didn't even bat a lash, before he grinned and joked, "Is that right? ______ always would have made a better soldier than you, ya know!" He peered over your significantly shorter head into your house, "Where's she at anyway? Always a treat to be greeted by a beautiful girl on the way to work, am I right?" Your jaw dropped, unable to believe that Johnny was this much of a dunce. You recovered from your monetary loss of sanity and pretended to be your typical overprotective older brother, "Hey now, Johnny. Just because we're friends doesn't mean you get first dibs or something..." Your brother's friend burst into a fit of laughter, hand coming to rest lazily on the hilt of his sword, "I know, I know. I was only teasing you. I know how protective you are of her, only the best for ______. That's what you always say, remember?" You felt warmth spread through your chest, a fondness for your sick brother that made your heart ache, "Y-yeah, that's right. Well," you made your way to close the door behind you, stepping out on the street, "Ready to go?" "Sure am!," the tall soldier exclaimed, clapping you on the shoulder once more before leading the way to what you could only assume was the castle. Your nervousness was beginning to disappear, replaced instead with a newfound confidence as you strolled through the streets. Before, people wouldn't even spare you a glance, the occasional catcall was all you received. Now people would tip their caps to you, give nods of recognition, bow in respect as you walked by them. It was a strange feeling to be in your brother's shoes, knowing you would never be treated this way without this suit of armor. Already living in close proximity to the center of the capital where the castle laid, you only followed Johnny for a few short minutes before you stood before the large iron gates. Johnny shouted up to some garrison soldiers, who shouted back before cranking open the gates. Your eyes widened at the majesty before you, the impressive architecture and just sheer grandness of the whole castle. You'd never been inside the gates, that privilege only being reserved for merchants, the court, those of social standing, and soldiers. Johnny glanced over at you with an eye smile, "We should go greet Ten, right? He and the others really missed you." Johnny stopped suddenly, looking over at you with eyes full of sadness, "Actually, most of us thought we wouldn't see you ever again..." Your lips parted at his confession, mind wandering to your brother, still laying sick in his bed unbeknownst to them. You felt guilty, knowing they were happy to see the wrong person. Johnny perked up again, knocking his fist against your helmet affectionately, "But you're here now! Come on, let's not keep everyone waiting." You followed Johnny through twisting corridors, up grand staircases, and hallways filled with paintings probably worth more than your life. You finally arrived at a beautiful gold enamel door, the knobs a shining brass that made a clinking side as Johnny opened the door with his gauntlet-clad hand. Not even a second passed before you were completely swamped, swept into hugs and smacked on the shoulder so many times you were sure you'd find a bruise there later. Johnny shooed them away, protecting your shaking form as he laughed, "Alright, alright. Let's let His Highness have a chance to see his favorite soldier." An amused voice retorted, "Is that jealousy in your voice Johnny? Or am I imagining things again? Step aside and let me get a good look at him." Your gasped from within your helmet, the sound echoing loudly throughout the room. Only a few people gave you looks, but they looked more amused than anything. Before you stood likely the most handsome boy you had ever laid eyes upon. A gorgeous smile played on his perfectly soft looking lips, deep brown eyes twinkling happily. Gentle waves of black hair spilled over his forehead, his hand coming up to push it away from his eyes as he laughed, "What's this? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Your eyes were impossibly wide, completely forgetting all words as he leaned in and embraced you warmly, his mouth close to your ear, "It's been too long, brother. You've been missed." Your heart stopped, feeling his breath fan across your lips as he spoke. You could barely find it in yourself to reply, "I-I'm glad to be back, Your Majesty." He pulled away, looking at you quizzically, "'Your Majesty'? You haven't called me that since you first joined as a soldier. It's just Ten, remember? No need for formalities." You were taken aback, "Yes, sir! I-I mean...Ten." You let the one syllable name spring off your tongue, the sound of it leaving your lips satisfying. "That's better. Now," he winced gingerly, "Please forgive me for this next bit. They really wanted to, and I couldn't say no..." You furrowed your brow, confused, "What do you-" SPLASH!!! You squealed rather girlishly by accident, the stinking scent of what could only be ale poured all down your body as they roared in laughter. Your nose crinkled, hair already beginning to smell as the stickiness washed down your body, "Come on, really?" They were giggling like village girls and bar maids, even Ten couldn't contain his amusement as he covered his nose with a handkerchief. He offered the little piece of silk to you, biting his lip as he stifled his laughter, "Here, maybe this will help." You rolled your eyes at him sarcastically, but blushed, taking the small square of fabric and dabbed at your eyes, "Gee, thanks, Your Majesty." He smiled, but behind his smile, you saw some type of confusion. For a moment you were worried he was beginning to catch on, you needed to act more like your brother. You coughed loudly, "Hm! So, which of you shitheads should I beat up first?" That seems to shut them up, their eyes wide in shock for a moment before they burst into another fit of giggles. Ten sensed your discomfort, the ale beginning to dry and make your skin itch, "Here, I'll have someone draw you a bath." You felt panic rise in your throat, "O-oh! No, I'm fine! Promise!" You were in dangerous territory and your cover could be blown. "No, you're not," Ten lifted a perfect brow, already sending an attendant to prepare your bath. "Let me take care of you for once, okay?" You couldn't argue with royalty, your shoulders sagging in defeat as you nodded silently. As you waited to be whisked away by servants, you watched the other boys interact, smiling to yourself as you watched them act so childishly. You thought how happy your brother had been only a month ago, amidst all his comrades and friends. Your eyes lingered on Ten, who seemed to be doing the same thing as you, watching from afar with a smile playing on his lips. Sensing your gaze he looked over at you, his face suddenly changing again into one of confusion and scrutiny, as if he were looking into a pool of water. You looked away with a blush on your cheeks, hidden behind your helmet as a servant informed Ten that your bath was ready. You were led down a hall decorated with ancient suits of armor to a large bathroom, probably the most luxurious looking room you've ever been in. You gaped at how ornate the bathtub was, steam curling from the surface of the water that was sprinkled with flower petals. You were left alone as the servant backed out, realizing your identity was still hidden as long as you were careful. With a relieved sigh, you went to unbuckle your armor, resting the lightweight metal on the tiled bathroom floor gently so as to make no noise. You didn't want any unexpected guests, for sure. You stripped quickly, glad to be able to see the womanly shape of your body in an exquisite full length mirror on the wall as you stepped into the steaming bath. You let out a small moan of appreciation, sinking deep into the bath and letting the water swallow you whole. You scrubbed the sickly sweet smell of ale from your skin, still unable to understand why men did these sort of things. There was a sudden knock on the door, Johnny's voice coming in muffled through the door, "You good in there? Need any help?" You sat up suddenly, smacking your head hard back against the tub, "Ow, shit! Y-yes, I'm fine!" You clapped a hand over your mouth, forgetting to make your voice deeper. You looked over at the door handle and realized that it wasn't locked. "What was that?," Johnny questioned, turning the handle at the same time. "I'm coming in." "No!," you cried out, still disoriented from smacking your head. "Don't-" "Oh, hey! There you are," Johnny smiled, pretending to shield his eyes. "Didn't know you were still in there. Your hair's gotten so much longer! One month can really change a person, I was wondering why you were so short looking." If you weren't afraid of your cover being blown, you would have smacked him in the face. Your hands were too busy discreetly cupping your breasts as you tried to remain calm, "Y-yeah. I'm really out of shape, it's kind of embarrassing actually..." You were trying to imply that you didn't want to be seen naked, but it went through one ear and out the other. Johnny pouted, "Hey don't say that. You had the best abs out of the entire Guard and I bet they're still there, let's see..." "WAIT! NO!," you shrieked girlishly as Johnny lifted you from under the armpits and out of the tub with ease, letting you dangle midair in his grasp. To your surprise he remained rather composed, even when you were before him in all your naked glory, Johnny still managed to be calm, "Well then. You surely aren't a man." Your eyes widened as he placed you down gently, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you to give you some semblance of modesty. He gulped, scratching the back of his head, "Hey there, ______." "Hey...," you said, still scared to breathe as you tripped over your words, "I-I can explain-" He didn't seem to be listening as he passed a hand over his face and groaned, "Your brother is going to kill me." You grew agitated, snapping your fingers to get his attention, "Nevermind about that, Johnny," you took a deep breath. "You absolutely can't tell anyone that it's me." "Why not?," he whispered, flopping his hands dramatically, "You know this is probably some sort of crime? Like a felony? Like the ones that get you thrown in jail?" "I'm not stupid," you pouted, tightening the towel around you. "This is the only way I can save my brother, Johnny." "What? Is he not better?," he furrowed his brow. You nodded, clenching your fists, "That's why I have to do this. We don't have any money left, and he'll die if I don't get him some real help." Johnny grasped your shoulders, bending down to your level, "_______, why didn't you say anything sooner?! I'm sure the Prince would have helped him long ago. Hell, even I would have!" "Then help me right now, Johnny," you whispered, "This is something I can't do myself." The tall soldier's lips parted in surprise, but he nodded in understanding, "Okay." A sudden loud bang was heard, seeming to come from the room where you'd been. Johnny's hand reached for the hilt of his sword, shock and confusion written on his face. His entire demeanor changed as he reached for the door, voice low, "Get dressed, soldier, and meet up with me. Looks like I'll have one more person besides the prince to protect." With that he rushed out the door, heading towards where shouting could be heard in the distance. You dressed quickly, once again struggling to put your armor on correctly, hands shaking as you thought back to Johnny's words. I don't need to be protected, you thought with a frown. I can protect myself and I can protect the prince. Watch me. Strapping on your sword, you traced Johnny's footsteps, realizing that it was much quieter now, causing uneasiness to settle in your stomach. You reached the room that you had initially been in, only to find it in shambles, the entire side wall had been completely wiped out. You gasped, pressing a hand to your mouth as you saw the bodies sprawled around in the rubble. You felt like you were going to vomit, tears pricking at the back of your eyes as you stumbled back a few steps. Ten was nowhere in sight, the Crown Prince was gone. You wandered over to a few of the bodies, gulping as you checked to see if any of them were still alive. You had no such luck, turning to search for Johnny when he realized with relief that he was not among the fallen. A hand grabbed your ankle, a scream released from your throat as you stumbled back in shock. One of the soldiers you had thought dead was clinging on to your leg for dear life, but he didn't look like a soldier you had seen in the room earlier. His voice was raspy, raw in his throat as he gurgled, "We have him already, you fool. You're too late!" He cackled, dragging himself up your leg as you began to scream in terror, not sure what to do in that moment. Suddenly, you were embraced from behind, a strong arm brought a stained broadsword down on your assailant. You screamed in terror, feeling the man's life blood splatter down your armor, the hand on your leg twitching and going limp. You couldn't help the tears that spilled down your cheeks as you turned to find the familiar face of Johnny, not a single trace of mercy on his features. "Shh, it's alright, ______," Johnny murmured, sheathing his sword and taking your head in his two hands so you had to look at him. "Listen to me," he shook you lightly, "______, listen to me. If you want to help your brother, you're going to have to help me." "I need you to help me save the prince." You hiccupped once more, lip trembling as you met his gaze, "Why me? I could hardly handle a half dead man attacking me! You think I could fight," you gestured to the gaping hole where the wall used to be, "whatever did this?!" Johnny gave you a hard, serious look, uncharacteristic for the usually cheery boy, "Absolutely." He scoffed, looking you up and down, "I mean, who is brave, or down right crazy, enough to steal their twin's armor, impersonate him, sneak into the castle, and even trick the Crown Prince?" You looked up at him, realizing that a trained soldier, renowned for his battle prowess, was praising you. He believed in you. Why shouldn't you believe in yourself? You knew in this moment your brother would haven't hesitated, agreeing to rescue the prince without a seconds hesitation. You thought of Ten's beautiful smile, the way his voice had been so close to your ear...you had to save him too. You blushed, knowing that it was more than duty driving your actions. You didn't want to admit it to yourself, but when your eyes met Ten's, something deep inside of you awoke. Something you didn't realize you had within yourself. No one fell in love in a matter of an hour though...right? You set your teeth, determination in your heart, "Okay, I'll do it. But Johnny," you murmured, "What did this?" You looked out of the hole again, seeing the vast kingdom spread before you. "Dragon," he replied, eyes hard as he followed your gaze. "And not just any old dragon, no...this was the same dragon that killed Ten's grandfather, the old king." Your eyes widened, "How do we know Ten is still alive then?!" Panic and fear coursed through your veins as images of Ten's body mirrored those in the room. "We don't," Johnny stated, already beckoning you to follow after him. "But we can only hope that the dragon is a greedy beast. If he's smart, he won't kill the prince right away, instead hopefully he'll use him as a hostage to get what he really desires: gold and jewels." Your mind went back to all the bedtime stories of greedy gold-obsessed dragons your mother had told you and your brother, and the brave knights who saved princesses captured by them. If you hadn't been so worried, you would have laughed at the turn of events. Here comes a female wannabe knight to save her prince. Johnny and you arrived at the stables, taking two horses that were already saddled and ready to ride. He turned towards you, "Have you ever rode a horse before?" You shook your head, eyeing the large animal nervously. The tall knight came over and guided you into the saddle, "Well now's your time to learn. Just do what I do, you'll be fine." You nodded, watching as he swung his leg over the black stallion with ease, "Let's go. Hyah!" He snapped the reigns, the horse snapping to attention and bolting out of the stable and into the castle courtyard. You panicked, hands shaking as you mirrored Johnny's actions, "Hyah? Ah!" Your grey mare was a feisty girl, kicking off at a break neck pace and catching up with Johnny's horse in a matter of seconds. The long haired boy, glanced over at you in approval, a type of brotherly look you hadn't seen since your twin had fallen ill. "The dragon lives in a deserted town not too far ahead, a short ride. When we get there, I need you to follow my every command. Do you understand?" You nodded, focusing on the task at hand and urging your horse on as the two of you raced towards the prince.

You arrived at the abandoned village, a desolate place that smelled of burning wood and fire, no surprise there. Johnny cautioned you with a hand as you followed him from the spot where you had hidden your horses. "We have to be extremely quiet, dragon's have senses far superior to ours. He'll know we're coming if we're not careful."

"Okay," you whispered, placing a hand on the hilt of your sword to reassure yourself. Johnny noticed and nodded in appreciation, "See? You already have the instincts of a soldier." He halted you, taking you behind a brick wall that had managed to survive the town's demise. "Draw your sword. Quietly though," he winced, as you noisily pulled out the gleaming piece of metal. "I pray to every god that it won't come to it, but if you somehow have to use it, I want you to be able to defend yourself," Johnny whispered, silently drawing his own sword. "It's a broadsword, so it must be held strongly in two hands since it's a heavier weapon." You mirrored his pose, widening your stance and lifting the sword to match the height of his, "Like this?" He nodded, "Yes, good. Now," he brought the sword in a swinging arc, a devastatingly powerful move. "Try that." With conviction, you almost expertly copied his move. Johnny's eyebrows shot up, a hand pulling up his visor in surprise, "Good, ______." You smiled, proud to have shocked him, a seasoned fighter and master swordsman. He looked around, "That's all we have time for now, we need to move on. If we end up surviving this, I'd be glad to teach you more later. Maybe even your brother could, if he hasn't killed me before the dragon does." As you got closer to where a stream of smoke circled into the air, a foul sulfuric odor poured into your nostrils. You coughed and brought your visor down, seeing Johnny do the same as the smell reached his nose, "What is that?" "That, ______, is dragon," Johnny whispered, clearing his throat quietly as you crept even closer to what appeared to be the remnants of an old keep. You gazed at the crumbling stone, trying to picture what it might have looked like before the dragon had destroyed it. You and Johnny snuck over to one of the walls, peeking into a hole to get a good look at what you would be dealing with. You stifled a gasp with your hand as your gaze landed on the great scaly beast curled up on top of a heaping pile of glittering gold and jewels. Johnny hushed you, placing a hand on your back to steady you as he craned his neck in search of Ten. You did the same, finding him trapped under one the dragon's great big claws, bloodied and bruised. Your heart leaped as you pointed and whispered, "Johnny...!" "I see him. Seems like he's still alive," he replied, turning toward you. "Here's the plan. I'm going to sneak in there to see if I can just slip him out without the dragon waking up. I want you to stay here, okay? Worse comes to worse, I want you to run as fast as you can from here and hide. Do you understand? Ten and I may die, but I don't want you to be killed as well." You went to protest, but Johnny snapped back, "I can't take you away from your brother, _______. He still needs you." You shut your mouth, watching with your stomach turning in knots as Johnny took a deep breath and began to inch away. You stopped him with a whisper, "Johnny," you lifted your visor and pressed a kiss to the cheek of his helmet, "Good luck." The tall knight nodded, squeezing your shoulder one last time before he slipped into the large hall that the dragon used as his home. You silently moved around too, unable to take your eyes off of Ten who lay weakly beneath the dragon. You felt so useless just standing there, wanting more than anything to just run in after Johnny. You decided it wouldn't do no harm to follow him from afar, just in case, right? You did just that, creeping after Johnny who was already crawling on all fours up the huge mound of gold towards the prince. He was so close too, just a few arm lengths away from the dragon, who snoozed away, peacefully unaware. Your breath caught in your throat when you heard a gentle clang, watching as Johnny accidentally bumped into a gold vase. It teetered precariously, setting your teeth on edge. Johnny lifted a hand to still it, his foot slipped though, and instead of stilling the vase, he pushed it, the heavy metal tumbling loudly down the pile of treasure. It was like a chain reaction, the way things occurred. First, Johnny's hand went to his sword's hilt. Next, Ten awoke, wiggling under the weight of the dragon's claw with a gasp. Finally, one single terrible green eye cracked open and an ugly pink tongue snaked between scaly lips. "Well, well," came a deep rumbling from the back of the dragon's throat. "What have we here? A little metal man coming to save his weak and tiny prince? How absolutely touching." The dragon emphasized his words by pressing Ten down into his pile of gold, making him cry out in pain. "Stop!" Johnny shouted, standing up completely and drawing his sword. "Let him go, you ugly ass lizard!" "Oh, no, I can't do that," the dragon purred, revealing his pointed teeth in what must have been a smile. "He's too valuable and I haven't even gotten my gold yet." He stretched lazily while sitting up, tightening his grip around Ten as he seemed to inspect him, "After I've received what I want, then I'll kill him. There's too many of you humans scurrying around anyway." "For a lizard, you sure do talk a lot," Johnny retorted, but you could sense the slight waver in his voice. "If you won't give him to me, then you leave me no choice but to take him from you." "Oh my, what a feisty little metal man you are," the dragon chuckled, an ugly rumbling sound. "You know what isn't so good about that armor you wear?" Johnny furrowed his brow, "What?" "How easily it melts," the dragon laughed, sending a stream of fire directly onto Johnny, causing you to scream out in terror. You watched the dragon knock him back with his tail, the tall soldier falling limp down the mound of gold. Making any noise was a grave mistake, the dragon whipping his head toward you, "Oh dear, seems like we have another little metal man here as well. You humans are like little ants, always crawling everywhere and breeding like rabbits. Truly disgusting." Ten craned his neck to look at you, "No! Run away!" He struggled in the dragon's grip, but the beast only squeezed him tighter. "Go!" "No," you finally mustered the courage to speak. "I'm not going anywhere." You looked over at where Johnny lay, his body still and his armor blackened, tears pricking at your eyes. "I won't, not until you give the prince back or I die trying." The dragon blinked, "Suit yourself, but the second option will be your only outcome, little human." "Bring it, you damn lizard," you gritted your teeth, drawing your sword. From somewhere deep inside, you felt a strange sense of calm, call it adrenaline or you just being crazy, but the sword felt familiar in your grip. The dragon roared, releasing a stream of red hot flame at you, which you barely dodged. You rolled to your right, heading towards the tail end of the dragon, who moved clumsily as you maneuvered around him nimbly. Johnny had been too tall to dodge, but you were much smaller, littler enough to sneak in and around the dragon's legs without his claws catching you. Ten was screaming in agony, the dragon crushing him in his claws as you rushed to free him. Reaching one of the dragon's hind legs, you swung your sword wildly, remembering what Johnny had shown you earlier. The dragon bellowed in pain, but that surely wasn't enough to stop him. "_______!," you heard a voice yell, turning in relief to see Johnny hobbling up the mound of gold. "Keep going, I'll distract him!" The tall knight dragged his sword behind him, bringing it down one of the dragon's front legs. He was injured, but definitely still able to throw punches. You nodded, the sound of your panting echoing as you got the sudden maniacal idea to climb up the scaly beast. The oversized lizard wasn't going to put Ten anywhere near your reach, so you would just have to go get him yourself. You grabbed onto one of the dragon's spines, hauling yourself up onto his back as Johnny distracted him. You were light enough that the dragon barely noticed, but once you got closer he surely would. You were around his shoulders when he suddenly thrashed violently, sensing your presence, "Argh! Get off of me you disgusting little creature!" You screamed, almost falling as you managed to clutch onto a spike for dear life, the sharp spine slipping past a crack in your armor and puncturing your soft skin. You saw Ten being whipped around, his eyes darting around wildly as he struggled to not have his neck broken from whiplash. "Ten," you screamed, wincing from your wound as you used the dragon's scales to shimmy across his arm towards him. "Hold on! I'm almost there!" Johnny was doing all he could to distract the beast, which turned out to be enough as you reached the prince, "I'm here, it's okay!" You clutched onto him, realizing you didn't know how you were going to pull him from the dragon's grasp. "Johnny!," you shouted, already seeing the taller knight crawling up the beasts leg onto his back. The older boy seemed to understand, drawing his sword high above him as he reached the back to the dragon's head. The giant lizard was scrabbling with one clawed hand behind his back, trying to grab at Johnny who managed to evade his reach. You watched in amazement as Johnny stood and brought his broadsword down upon the dragon's neck, cutting deeply. The beast roared in agony, his wings flapping weakly and crumpling underneath him as he began to fall. It felt like a building was collapsing from underneath you, your hands clutching onto Ten as the dragon's grip on him loosened. The two of you free fell, landing hard on the slippery pile of gold and sliding down a ways, watching with wide eyes as the dragon collapsed beneath Johnny's sword. The older soldier didn't even spare a second glance at the fallen beast, dropping his weapon and stumbling over to where you and Ten had fallen. "Ten! ______!" "Johnny," Ten murmured, eyes still the size of dinner plates, allowing the tall knight to collapse next to the two of you, pulling you both into his broad chest. He ripped his helmet off, hair clinging to his sweaty soot covered face, "Thank god you two are okay." He squeezed you again, but you cried out softly in pain. "______? What's wrong?!" "'________'?," Ten furrowed, confusion written on his handsome features, "Who's _______...?" Unable to protest, Johnny pulled your helmet off, allowing your true face to show, hair falling down from where you tied it up as he laid you gently down. You're head felt dizzy, lifting a hand to see it covered in red as Ten looked over at you in shock. The long haired knight worked diligently to remove your armor, hand pressing onto the wound you'd received from the dragon, "Can you hear me _______?" You gasped at the sensation, seeing stars from the pain, "Y-yep! Can definitely feel that too!" Ten moved over to get a good look at your dirty face, brushing your hair away from your eyes, "Johnny...who is she? I thought this was-" "She's his twin sister," Johnny mumbled, starting to panic as he realized you were losing a lot of blood. He rushed to take off his armor, pulling his tunic over his head to press it into your wound after lifting up your overshirt. You managed to look up at Ten, a shy smile on your face, "I'm sorry we had to meet like this. It wasn't supposed to turn out this way-" Ten hushed you, lifting your head into his lap, "We'll have none of that. I'll hear about all of this," he gestured down your body, "later. For now, rest." He looked angry with you, but also confused, like he wasn't sure you were real. "Your Highness, we need to get her back to the castle as fast as possible," Johnny said, already lifting you easily into his arms. "She needs medical attention immediately." "Right," Ten gulped, seeing the way your pretty eyes glazed over. The moment he saw them unblocked by a helmet, he realized that it really had been you the whole time. He knew something had been off, but he hadn't been able to put his finger on it. Now he knew, and he still couldn't understand why. As Ten mounted his horse and watched Johnny cradle you against his chest, snapping his horse to attention, all he knew was that you were possibly the most beautiful and bravest girl he'd ever seen. Bloodied and sooty as you were, to him, you were still prettier than any of the princesses that he was forced to court.

You woke up in a cloud. Or at least, that's what it felt like to you as you were stirred awake by a gentle hand. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty." Your eyes cracked open, not wanting to leave the soft warm comfort of the bed, as you looked up grumpily at Johnny. You felt clean bandages wrapped around your waist, helping your injury recover. You groaned, flopping back down as he chuckled, "Get ready. Clothes are on the chair, come to the throne room when you're ready. The prince wants to see you." You instantly perked up, which didn't go unnoticed by the tall soldier as he winked at you, "Don't keep him waiting." You blushed, waiting for him to shut the door before you bolted over to the chair. You found a simple, yet beautiful dress made from the softest material you'd ever touched. It was a gorgeous maroon, like the color of a dried rose, beautiful and whimsical. It fit like a glove, slipping over your curves like it was meant for you. You stepped into a pair of shoes that were placed beside the chair, searching for a mirror to check your appearance. Finding one, you ran your fingers through your hair, pinching your cheeks to give them a rosy flush of color. It felt strange looking at yourself without seeing a suit of armor, your bare skin unfamiliar. With that, you set off to find the throne room, winding through the hallways until you eventually were greeted by guards at a pair of large ornate double doors. They neatly pulled the heavy doors open, revealing a row of three thrones, lit by sunlight that filtered in through large windows. It was a beautiful and impressive room and you felt tiny compared to its grandeur. One of the guards announced your presence and the crowd of people who had been gathered near the thrones turned towards you. There were some smiles, some furrowed brows, and some impressed smirks, and you couldn't help but blush at the attention. In the midst of all of them stood Ten, dressed in a deep navy that complimented your maroon well, almost like they were a matching set. You turned a deeper shade of red as you approached him, curtsying clumsily as you stuttered, "Your Majesty." You hadn't saw the way Ten's eyes widened when you had walked in, a dusting of pink sprinkled across his smooth cheeks as he beheld you. A smile spread on his lips as he saw the way you bobbled when you curtsied, he wanted to have some fun with you, "______, you stole your brother's royally sanctioned armor, impersonated him, and snuck into the royal guard." You looked up at him in surprise, eyes big, forgetting that you'd committed several crimes. You looked over at Johnny, who wouldn't meet your gaze, preoccupying himself with something on the ground. "Your Highness, I can explain-" "I'm not done," Ten interjected, causing you to shut your mouth obediently. He took a step towards you, so close that you could have reached a hand out to touch him. To your surprise, he took your hand gently in his, lifting you up, "And, you helped save me from the very dragon that killed my grandfather." Your lips parted, gazing into his warm eyes as he smiled at you, perfect teeth flashing brilliantly, "Thank you, ______. You didn't have to help me, but you did anyway. You're the bravest girl this kingdom has ever seen and," he looked up at you shyly between his lashes, "Possibly the most beautiful too." Your hand shook in his, which held onto yours securely, anchoring you to the ground, "T-thank you, Your Highness-" "Ten," he smirked, seeing how nervous you were by his words. "It's just Ten, remember? Pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance properly." He stooped down, kissing the back of your hand with lips that were softer than flower petals. You gasped softly, trying to recover as you murmured, "_______. The pleasure is all mine." "Oh, I bet it is," he winked, tugging you just a little closer and refusing to let go of your hand. He turned and beckoned a certain tall knight over, "Sir Johnny. Please join us." The long haired knight smiled, coming to your other side and warmly taking your hand with a comforting squeeze. Ten looked out upon the crowd, glancing proudly at you and Johnny, "My people, behold your champions! Dragon slayers by the names _______ and Johnny." You felt a happy warm flush wash over you as Ten and Johnny lifted your arms into the air, looking out upon the crowd and landing on a pair of eyes that mirrored your own. Time stopped, the only thing moving was your feet toward those eyes. You ran into his arms, causing him to stumble back a few feet as you whispered, "You're here." "Hey there ______," the familiar timbre of your brother's voice chuckled, embracing you back as the crowd around you clapped. You let the joyful tears slip down your face, "How?" Your twin held you out at arms length, giving you a knowing look, "I think you know. Why don't you go thank him?" He nodded to somewhere behind you, following his gaze, your eyes landed on the prince. You don't know what you were thinking, but perhaps you were finally letting out all the withheld emotions you'd been feeling. When you stumbled clumsily towards Ten, you somehow ended up in his arms, cupping his face as you pressed your lips sweetly to his. You broke away after a few seconds, eyes snapping open as you realized what you had done, "O-oh, Ten, I-I..." Ten didn't even hesitate, grinning once again about how such a courageous girl could be so shy, "Why don't we try that again, hm?" The dark haired prince cupped your face this time, seeming to shield you from the world as he pressed his lips to yours passionately. As the crowd cheered once again, your bodies moved flush together, knowing that he could feel your heart beating against his chest. You let out the smallest of moans, quiet enough so that only he could hear, his hand going to your waist in approval as he pulled away and gasped for air. He didn't even take a breath, pressing kisses to your neck that tickled,'making you giggle softly, "Ten!" "Say it again," he whispered, looking up at you in wonder. "Please say my name." "Ten," you breathed against his lips, pressing one more chaste kiss there before pulling away and melting into his arms. "Thank you for saving me, ______," Ten murmured, stroking your hair. "No," you shook your head with a smile, "I think we saved each other." He laughed, grinning as Johnny and your brother came over to tug you two into a group hug. For the first time in a long while, you felt safe, secure, and more happy than you could even express with words. Johnny looked down at you, raising his eyebrow with a smirk, "So, are you still willing to become my apprentice, Lady ______?" You gaped at him, looking over at Ten who grinned, "I might have made you the first female knight on the Royal Guard." "You won't be a lady for long though," Ten continued, lacing his fingers with yours shyly. "I was thinking you could be more along the lines of my princess?" You laughed, pecking his cheek, "I'd like that very much, only if you're my prince though."

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