#also the ‘we don’t listen’ part was from me. I’m being very bold and the instructor laughed and said I fit right in

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Love and Lying Pt. 1

This will fill the "How bad is it?" space on my @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt will be bolded.

Summary: Will Y/N and Jensen love each other or live in lies?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Angst - reader. Smut. Unprotected P in V sex. Fingering. Oral (f receiving). Jensen being kind of an asshole. Also being a hero, and a rockstar, and the sexiest mofo ever.

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Y/N

Word Count: 6,230

A/N: So, this is kind of a joint request from the lovely @candy-coated-misery0731, and @envyaurora95. They saw this picture of Jensen...

(x)

...and after chatting about it, decided to very kindly ask if I could write something smutty for it. So, I have. 😊

This was supposed to be a one shot, but it will be a short two part series instead. Sorry! It got away from me, and ended up with much more plot than I was originally planning on. 😄 I'm hoping to have Part 2 up on the 23rd. The second part will also cover a square in the jacklesverse bingo - "Rumors". Hope this first part, at least, was what you were hoping for, my lovlies!

Also, the Radio Company song "Ain't No Telling" features in the story, and if you haven't listened to it, click here to do so. Definitely worth it!

A/N 2: As always, of course this is a Jensen from another part of the Multiverse, who is single. This is an absolute work of fiction.

The beautiful dividers, both below and at the bottom were created by @saradika

January

“Hey baby! I’m sorry, I know I said seven, but…” Y/N heard Jensen’s voice booming from the living room in the five star hotel suite they were staying in for the week. 

He walked into the bedroom with his phone in his hand. He was looking down at the screen and frowning; his voice was distracted.

“I was gonna text you, and then I was - “ He looked up from his phone to see Y/N sitting on the end of the bed. His smile started and then stopped as his eyes snagged on the two packed suitcases at her feet.

The room was suddenly silent, the noisy, ceaseless traffic sounds muted by their distance from the street thirty stories below them. Jensen closed his phone and slipped it into his pocket. He gave a brief nod to the suitcases.

“You’re packed and leaving.” He said, stating the obvious.

Y/N folded her hands in her lap, trying desperately to keep them from shaking. But her voice wavered as she responded. “Yes. Look, I think…I think it’s time we admit this isn’t working.”

Jensen’s face registered surprise. “Oh.” He said quietly. “Oh, you’re…you’re LEAVING - leaving. Like, for good, forever.”

Y/N felt his soft words pierce her heart. “I think…” she tried to get the words out past the lump in her throat. “I mean, you can’t tell me you think what we’re doing here is…you have to admit that this isn’t working.”

Jensen shook his head, the surprise fading from his face. In its place came the stubborn set of his chin, and the mask of nonchalance he wore when he was avoiding something. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t do that.” Y/N said, frustration seeping in. “Don’t act like I’m crazy, like I’m making things up.”

Jensen folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I can’t just pretend like I get it.”

Y/N gritted her teeth, frustrated at having to "explain" what they both knew. "I’ve hit a wall with you, Jensen, that I simply can’t get past. Can’t go over it, can’t go around it or through it. Ever since we’ve been together…this whole last year - ever since we decided to take our friendship to the next level, you’ve been keeping me at arms length. You don’t discuss things with me, not your worries or your wants. We don’t make decisions together, you won’t bring me into your life. We were so much closer when we were friends.”

She took a deep breath. “So, I think maybe we should go back to that.” She felt her stomach lurch as she made the suggestion. “Go back to being friends, I mean. I think you were happier that way.”

Jensen scoffed “Oh, was I?”

Y/N shrugged. “Weren’t you? You seemed to be. You talked to me about stuff then, seemed to value my opinion. Now, you just keep everything bottled up inside you. You don’t tell me anything, don’t share anything with me.”

Y/N stood up and walked to where Jensen was standing, anger radiating off of him. She laid her hand on his forearm. “Jensen.” She said softly, looking up into his face. He wouldn’t meet her eye. “Jensen, I love you.”

His jaw clenched and ticked, and she felt the muscles under her hand tense. She waited a moment and although she’d known she wouldn’t hear the words back - even though that had been her point in telling him one more time - the silence that greeted her still lit a burning ache in her chest. 

She stepped back, but Jensen shot his hand out to grab her wrist and keep her close. His voice was angry and exasperated. “Y/N look, do you want me to lie? Do you want me to just say the words and not have them mean anything?”

Y/N couldn’t help the tears that spilled down her cheeks. “No.” She whispered. “Of course I don’t. I want them to mean everything to you. I want you to feel the truth of them in your soul.” She shrugged and pulled her wrist out of his grasp, pretending her heart wasn’t splintering. “But that’s sort of the point - you don’t feel them, don’t mean them.”

She breathed deeply through her nose. “And that’s why I have to go. I love you but…”

“No, that’s the fucking point, Y/N.” Jensen raged as she bent to pick up her baggage. “You love me, ‘but’. That’s the whole problem. You’ll only love me on your terms, on your timetable. You love me, but you’re just gonna walk away because I won’t play along the way you want me to.”

Jensen was breathing hard, shouting now. “You can’t just force me into whoever you want me to be, can’t just mold me and -”

“Jensen.” Y/N cut him off with a soft, gentle voice. She stood with her bags in hand and shook her head at him, sadness overwhelming her. “Jensen, I’m not her. I’m not trying to mold you into something you’re not. I’m not trying to change you - don’t wanna change you. But…” 

Y/N took in another long, wavering breath and finished her earlier thought. “I love you, but I won’t be in love alone.” She shrugged. “It’s too lonely.”

She reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, but he pulled away from her, and his eyes burned holes into her, the bright green was beautiful, but as hard as jade. “Just go then. Don’t bother with the platitudes. Dunno why you even bothered to stick around for good-bye.”

He spun on his heel and slammed out of the suite. Y/N couldn’t help dropping her bags to the ground and sinking back down onto the foot of the bed. Her stomach plummeted in disappointment once again, and as tears fell steadily down her cheeks, she was able to finally admit to herself that she’d been desperately hoping that he’d tell her to stay. It was probably stupid, but she’d hoped the threat of losing her for good would make him open up and let her in.

But it hadn’t. He wanted her gone. He’d much rather lose her than love her. For a wild moment she contemplated staying, trying to love enough for the both of them. But she knew that was impossible. She contemplated spending another year like the last, always doubting, feeling like she was so close to reaching him, just to have him pull away - just to watch him fall back into his charming ways, all smiles and quick jokes, and no real connection.

It was impossible, and it would only make it that much harder to leave later. So, she picked up her bags and said another silent goodbye to the man who’d hold her heart forever. 

“Be happy.” She whispered to the ghosts she left behind.

April

The bar was crowded and noisy; twenty years ago it would have been smoky too. The people inside were slightly rowdy, and ready for a good show. 

Y/N felt slightly overdressed in her little black dress. A few women wore something similar, but most women were just in short skirts and tube tops. The vast majority of guys were in t-shirts and jeans.

She sighed. Yep, overdressed.

She perked up slightly as she approached the table her friends were sitting at and saw Briana stand up to hug her, with Kim close behind. Kim wore a fancy top and sleek, shiny pants, and Briana’s dress was tight and black as well. They both looked gorgeous and Y/N was glad that at least she fit in a bit more with her own group. 

They were all here to watch Louden Swain perform their set, and Y/N was very excited. She loved the band so much; they were all such sweethearts, and she always had so much fun hanging out with the group. It had been too long.

As she gave both Kim and Briana a hug she was smiling wide, a smile that died quickly as she glanced towards the door and saw Jensen striding towards them.

“What the fuck?” Y/N whispered.

Briana looked over her shoulder and then turned back to stare worriedly at Y/N. “He’s…I mean, he’s probably just here to support the band, you know.”

As Briana finished talking, Jensen walked up to where Rob was standing beside the stage and pulled the smaller man into a tight hug. The two spoke close together, straining to hear each other over the music blaring from the loudspeakers. Finally Jensen pounded his friend on the back and turned towards the table Rob pointed at, where all his other friends were sitting.

He froze as he saw Y/N watching him over Briana’s shoulder. There was a very long pause where no one moved or said anything. It was finally Briana who broke it. She pushed Y/N towards Kim who scooted her over to the other end of the long table they sat at, while Briana walked briskly up to Jensen. 

She gave him a warm hug and said something into his ear. Y/N figured she was probably telling him the same thing she told her. They were here to support the band, and that was all. The table was big, and the bar was incredibly noisy.

There would be no need for them to interact.

But Y/N’s night was effectively ruined. She smiled at everyone and bopped along with the band as they performed. But her mind simply wasn’t there, it was ten feet down the table where Jensen sat between Rich and a blonde woman she didn’t recognize.

Y/N tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help but notice that the woman was beautiful…and that she kept touching Jensen. She laughed uproariously at everything he said, and she just kept putting her hands on him - touching his bicep to get his attention, or putting both her hands on his while she was laughing, her head bent towards his. 

Jensen seemed to be enjoying the company. He was talking with her and smiling, and he did nothing to discourage the touching.

As the band finished one song and were switching around some guitars for the next, Y/N leaned over to Briana. 

“Who’s the woman beside…Jason?” She asked, swapping out Jensen’s name with Jason’s at the last minute. But Briana saw through that anyway and gave her a sympathetic look. 

“I think her name is Tara. From what I know, she’s an old friend of Jason’s. But I’m not sure how they know each other. He’s brought her to a couple get togethers.” Briana shrugged. “She seems nice enough.”

Y/N nodded. “Oh. Cool.” She said quietly just as the band struck up the next song. She hadn’t thought her evening could get worse, and yet it had. And the worst was yet to come.

At the end of the song, Rob held a hand out towards their table. “I wanna give a big thanks to my cheering section over here.” The band clapped and the rest of the bar joined in. 

Rob’s smile was huge as he pointed a finger at Jensen. “Now, I need a little more help, onstage this time, and if we all cheer really loudly, we may just guilt my good friend, Mr. Jensen Ackles into joining us on stage!”

Rob finished with a yell as the bar exploded into cheers. Jensen was waving his hands and shaking his head, but the people around him were pushing him, quite literally to get up on the stage. Tara was pushing the hardest, shoving on his broad shoulder and then clapping excitedly when he got up.

Y/N felt her stomach twist in knots. This was too much.

Finally Jensen was cajoled, and physically forced onto the stage. He was smiling, but Y/N could tell he was nervous by the way he rubbed his hands together and then shoved them in his pockets. He bent slightly as Rob reached up to yell in his ear. Jensen seemed to think something over and then shrugged and nodded. 

Rob walked back to the microphone and lifted his hand and everyone quieted down to hear him. “Okay, so we always drag Jensen onstage to sing a song the band knows well, but we’ve all been practicing, and we really wanna do a Radio Company song with Jensen this time.”

Everyone clapped and cheered some more as Rob called out. “I’ll do my best to impersonate Steve.” He said with a laugh. “Okay, one of the songs we know well, and is primarily Jensen singing, is the song, ‘Ain’t No Telling’. And the man himself has agreed to sing it for us!”

There was more applauding as Jensen moved into position behind the lead microphone, and Rob moved into position a bit behind him, adjusting the mic stand there so that he could sing harmony. Mike started playing the soft piano that began the ballad, and the bar quieted down, ready to listen to Jensen’s angelic voice. 

Y/N, however, was panicking slightly, sure she'd never be able to take this. But I can't possibly get up and run out of here now. She thought desperately. It would be so obvious and make me look pathetic and weak. 

So she tried to brace herself, but still felt chills run down her spine as Jensen’s slightly raspy vocals filled the room.

Oh, the fact is Cold but true love Ain't no tellin' Who I am One day sweetness Next day laughter Followed by the anger Coming up from within Who are you holding onto now? Who are you holding onto now? When you need it And you know that I'm a little far away Ain't no tellin' no Where the hell I am Just believe in Every time When we feel it again Tell me, who are you holding onto now? Oh, who are you holding onto now?

Though Jensen didn’t look her direction during the entire song, she still felt like he was singing every line straight to her. 

He was so achingly beautiful, and so painfully, effortlessly sexy, it made Y/N's body thrum with want.

His hair had grown a bit longer in the four months since she'd seen him last, and it suited him very well. The honey and cinnamon colored waves fell forward over his forehead as he looked down at the stage, throwing shadows across his face. His eyes were closed, but even from ten feet away she could see the way his eyelashes brushed the tops of his cheeks. His soft, silky looking beard did a beautiful job of perfectly framing his luscious mouth. Y/N tried not to moan aloud as she remembered the perfect slide of those lips across her skin.

Everything about him - his voice, his eyes, his lips, his hands - even his rolled up sleeves that showed off his muscular, freckled forearms - it all made her ache terribly.

The song's lyrics made Y/N’s heart race fast, and crack into a million pieces at the same time. She looked towards Tara, who was staring raptly and adoringly at Jensen, and swallowed harshly, throwing the song's question back at him.

Who are you holding onto now?

As the song slowed to its conclusion and the bar went crazy, shouting and cheering, Y/N put a hand on Briana’s forearm and shot her a quick smile. “Be right back.” She said, nodding towards the restrooms in the back of the bar. She hated Briana’s look of pity and understanding. Y/N wanted to be nonchalant and cool about everything, but the wounds of Jensen’s absence were too fresh.

She stayed in the bathroom for nearly ten minutes just willing herself not to cry. She couldn’t go back out there with puffy eyes, on top of everything else. 

When she felt slightly less prone to bursting into tears, she washed her hands, took a deep breath, and faked a smile. 

The men and women’s washrooms were both down a long hallway, with the women’s at the very end. Just as she walked out, there was a guy walking out of the men’s room and wiping his hands on his jeans. He was medium height, with brown hair that was slicked back, and watery blue eyes that were slightly bloodshot. He wore jeans and a dark blue work shirt with a patch embroidered on the chest that said his name was “Bert.” 

He noticed Y/N and he smiled a greasy smile, the kind of smile guys wore when they hit on her, and were sure they were irresistible. Y/N gave a wan kind of smile in return, and tried to walk past him, but he moved to block the narrow hallway. 

“What’s your rush, cutie? Stay and chat awhile.” He said with another too-toothy smile.

Y/N’s smile faded and she shook her head at him. “Sorry. Not a big fan of chatting outside a bathroom.” She moved to the side again to show she wanted to walk around him, but he didn’t budge, and if she wanted to get past, she’d have to get physical - something she was desperately hoping to avoid.

But Bert didn’t seem to like her smart alec answer, and his eyes got colder by a degree. “Well, we don’t have to stay here, beautiful. Let me buy you a drink, and then,” he stepped closer to her and she gagged slightly at the cloud of body spray that surrounded him, “then let me take you back to my place, and show you the best night you ever had.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what direction to take - play along so maybe he’d move, and she could take off when they were out of the hallway, or just tell him to go fuck himself. If she played along she ran the risk of making him really pissed when she took off after, but she also ran the risk of pissing him off immediately if she just told him to get lost. 

Rather spontaneously, she simply decided she had no patience left in her for this asshole. 

“Absolutely not.” She told him firmly. “I have no interest in your offer. Now, please get out of my way and let me out of this hallway.”

As though she hadn’t even spoken, he moved closer, pushing her back a step. “You’re gonna love it baby, I promise.”

Y/N felt her stomach clench in fear and was just getting ready to stomp on his toes, or knee him in the nuts, or both, when she heard a familiar voice speak from behind Bert.

“Stop crowding the lady, asshole, and let her pass.”

Y/N felt relief flow through her as she looked down the hallway and saw Jensen standing just inside the entrance. 

Bert looked over his shoulder and lifted his chin in a dismissive gesture towards Jensen. “Nobody’s talkin’ to you, jackass. Just keep movin’.”

Jensen shook his head even though Bert was back to ogling Y/N, and wasn’t looking. “That’s not gonna happen. I’m only gonna warn you once.” He walked down the hall towards them. “Give it up, walk away, and your nose can stay unbroken.” Jensen issued the warning in a conversational tone. 

Finally Bert turned around to face him properly. Jensen’s size seemed to make him hesitate for a moment. Jensen had a good three or four inches on him, as well as about thirty pounds of muscle. But Bert's bravado and ego got the better of him.

“Bring it on, fucker, I’ve dealt with guys like you before. Think you’re Mr. Hotshot, but your nothin’ special. I could take you in my sleep.”

Jensen stared at him, two dimples showing up just above his top lip as he scowled, annoyance etched into his features as though Bert was a particularly bothersome fly he couldn’t swat. He shook his head and reached past him, holding his hand out for Y/N to take. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Y/N reached for him instantly, but Bert made the very huge mistake of slapping her hand away from Jensen’s. Y/N gasped, more from shock than pain, but she was looking at Jensen and saw his expression turn from annoyed to enraged. In the blink of an eye, his right fist came up to slam into Bert's face; a sickening crack sounded as his nose shattered and he fell to the floor.

Jensen reached over Bert’s prone figure and offered his hand to Y/N once again. She took it and he helped her step over the loudly moaning man. They walked away and were just barely out of the hallway, when they heard Bert rising up and bellowing in fury. They turned around in time to see Bert whipping down the hallway towards where they were now standing in the back part of the bar.

Jensen had just enough time to push Y/N out of the way before Bert was tackling him into an empty table and chairs. The two men crashed through it, splintering the wood and falling into the debris. Bert got in one good punch before Jensen rolled him over and began pummeling his face and body. Half a dozen punches later, the bouncers showed up to pull them apart.

There was a lot of confusion and yelling, and Y/N just stood with her hands over her mouth, stunned speechless. Soon, all their friends were in the back with them trying to make sense of what had happened. Thankfully, they sorted it out pretty quickly. One of the bartenders had seen Bert tackle Jensen, so the smaller man was just tossed out of the bar with a warning not to come back, or police would be involved. 

Eventually their friends began to filter back to the table, and the staff back to their jobs. But Tara stayed, cooing over Jensen’s purpling cheek and split bottom lip, coaxing him to come back to her hotel room so she could fix him up.

Y/N felt her stomach turn and her exhausted brain decided that she’d taken all she possibly could for one evening. She smiled at Jensen as he stood beside Tara while she ran her hands over his knuckles and tutted at their scrapes.

“Thank you.” She said simply. Her extreme gratitude for his rescue couldn’t really be summed up with two simple words, but that was all she could get out without bursting into tears. 

“Course.” Jensen said stiffly. He looked like he had more to say, but Y/N just smiled again and ducked past them quickly, admitting to herself that she was definitely running away.

***

Hours later, Y/N was sitting slumped on her couch, still dressed in her little black dress, heels kicked off under her coffee table, and an almost empty glass of wine in her hand. It was her second one, and she was just beginning to feel the pleasant fuzziness at the edges of her consciousness, when she heard a sharp knock at her door. 

Looking at her phone, she saw it was past one in the morning, and no one had texted her to say they were coming over. She sat up, but didn't move to the door until the knock came again.

She snuck up to the door quietly and peered out of the peephole. She let out a fairly loud squeal of surprise when she saw Jensen on the other side. She saw him look up at the door and knew he'd heard her. With no other choice if she wanted to try and maintain her “just fine” facade when it came to him, she turned the deadbolt and opened the door.

There was a full ten seconds of awkward silence as they stood just staring at each other. It may have only been seconds but it felt endless. Finally Y/N broke it.

“Hey.”

Jensen nodded and gave a fleeting smile. “Hey.”

Another awkward silence. 

Then Jensen shook his head. “Sorry, I just…uh…you left pretty fast, and…and I just wanted to make sure you were good. You know, from the…just with everything.”

Y/N smiled back, her smile equally brief and unnatural. “Yeah, oh yeah.” She waved dismissively. “Yeah, he was mostly just a douche, you know.”

Jensen nodded, and a beat passed before Y/N frowned and asked, “How about you?” She pointed at his split lip and bruised cheek. “How bad is it?”

He lightly brushed his forefinger against his lip, rubbing the cut there, and then shrugged. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Guy punched like a…well, like a douchebag, I guess.” He smiled again and it was slightly closer to his real smile.

Y/N nodded and was desperately trying to figure out her next move when Jensen pointed around her into her apartment. “Uh, do you mind…can I…?”

Y/N panicked slightly at the idea of letting Jensen in, but she moved back and ushered him inside “Yeah, sure.” He closed the door behind him, and now they stood awkwardly inside her apartment instead of outside. Desperate to break the torturous silence, Y/N pointed toward her kitchen. 

“Can I get you a drink, or something?”

But Jensen just shook his head. “N’ah, I’m good.”

So Y/N’s escape plan into the kitchen was thwarted. After a moment Jensen waved his hand around to indicate her apartment. “This is…new…nice.”

Y/N nodded, starting to feel like a bobblehead doll. “Yeah, I like it.” She frowned as a thought occurred to her. “How did you know where to find me?”

Jensen looked slightly guilty. “I bugged Briana til she told me.”

“Ah.” Y/N said. “That would do it.”

A spasm of a smile crossed Jensen’s face and then he opened his mouth and started to say something, but then quickly closed it. He looked a little wildly around the room as though he might find the words he sought, written on the walls.

Finally, he exhaled loudly and spun around towards the door. “K, well, I’m glad you’re good.” He said with another careless smile thrown back over his shoulder. “See ya.”

And just like that, he was gone again. 

Y/N stood in the middle of her living room, completely at sea. “What the hell was that?” She whispered out loud to herself.

She stood in the same spot for almost five minutes trying to puzzle it out, before another sharp, loud knock came to the door. Without looking through the peephole this time, she just pulled the door open and wasn’t the least surprised this time to see Jensen standing on the other side.

Bewildered, yes. Surprised, no.

“Jensen,” she said with a confused shake of her head, “what on earth ar-”

She gasped as he cut her off by grabbing the back of her head in his big hand and pulling her into his embrace. His mouth crashed down on hers, the kiss desperate and slightly brutal. Y/N moaned deeply as he thrust his tongue past her lips to ravage her mouth, moving his two hands so that they gripped her cheeks and held her in place as he pillaged her tongue, sucking it into his mouth, and licking deeply into hers.

He shifted his lips on hers, and Y/N took the moment to try and come to her senses. She pushed at his forearms and wrenched her head away from him. 

“What…” Her voice was completely breathless and high-pitched. She tried to lower it. “What the hell are you doing?”

She tried to step away from him, but he grabbed hold of her upper arms and held her there. “Please, Y/N, I just…fuck I miss you.”

Y/N shivered at the dark desire in his mossy green eyes and deep, rough voice, but she shook her head. “Jensen…we can’t just…” She floundered for words, trying desperately to remain sensible. This was madness!

“I know.” Jensen said, dropping his forehead to hers. “I know, and I know I’m an asshole for coming here, but…”

Y/N could see, close up, his jaw clenching and the muscle twitching there, and it made her lower belly clench. 

“But,” Jensen continued, “when I saw you there tonight, in this sexy little black dress…jesus fuck.” He moved his hands from her arms to grip her waist, bunching up the soft, clingy material of her dress in his big fists. “All I wanted to do was rip it off you.”

Y/N was breathing heavily, as though she’d run a mile. A whine entered her voice, as she tried to plead with herself more than him. “We can’t do this…it’s not…” His lips just grazed hers, and his soft, minty breath drifted across them. 

“Tell me to go.” He whispered roughly. “Say the word - I’ll go.” 

They stayed frozen together like that for quite a few rapid heartbeats before Y/N finally shook her head, conceding defeat, and acknowledging she never had any hope of victory.

“No. Don’t.” She bit her lip and then looked deeply into his eyes for the first time in a long time. “Don’t go.”

Jensen slammed the door shut with his foot, and only then did Y/N realize it was still open. Jensen had been her only focus since he’d charged through it. He grabbed her head in his hands again and kissed her deeply, still rough and desperate. He walked her backwards until they hit her bookshelves, knocking down a few paperbacks. 

Jensen pulled away from her mouth only to dip his head beneath her jaw. He nibbled at the extremely soft skin there, before running his tongue down her neck and across her shoulder, pulling the straps of her dress out of his way so he could bare her shoulder and suck bruises and leave teeth marks across her skin.

Y/N desperately shoved his black button up off of his shoulders and yanked his t-shirt over his head. Her hands were trembling, and it felt as though her entire body was shaking in anticipation. When she finally got her hands on his bare skin, she rubbed them down over his ribcage, and then up under his arms and around to his back. She dug her nails into the taut muscles there and Jensen growled out a moan. 

Suddenly he pulled back from her and spun her around. She grabbed hold of the shelves in front of her as she felt Jensen’s hands grip the top of her dress. Without even attempting the zipper, he ripped it apart with a grunt, tearing the dress in half. 

Y/N wanted to protest him ruining her dress, but she lost all coherent thought as he reached over her shoulder and shoved his hand down the front of her dress. His nimble fingers freed the front clasp of her bra quickly, and he wrapped his massive hand around her breast, squeezing her almost too hard. He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and the puckered bud began to ache for more.

His mouth didn’t leave her body as he pressed her against the shelves. He trailed his lips down her neck and then down her back, pushing the two sides of her dress off of her completely. He pulled her bra off too, and tossed it aside. Left in only her black, silky thong, she heard Jensen moan deeply and then felt him step back from her slightly.

When she looked over her shoulder, she felt her slick begin to drip down her thighs at the look of ravenous need on Jensen’s face. She could see the way he bulged out his black jeans and she couldn’t restrain a whimper.

She turned towards him and then fell to her knees. She reached for his zipper, but Jensen grabbed her hands. 

“No baby, I can’t. You touch me right now and I’m gonna explode.” He pulled her back to standing and then grabbed the backs of her thighs, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his hips. “And I need to fuck you, need to sink so deep into you.”

He spoke deliciously into her ear as he carried her down her only hallway towards what he must have correctly assumed was her bedroom. He kissed her as he carried her to the bed. Then he leaned down to place her gently on the mattress. She let go of him long enough for him to shuck his jeans and underwear, her mouth watering at the delicious sight of his leaking, red-tipped cock. 

Fuck he was beautiful. 

He crawled onto the bed and then between her legs. She tried to wrap her legs around him again, but he easily pushed them open. He stared down at her pussy and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. 

“Missed this pretty little pussy so much.” Jensen said as he laid his palm over her mound, fingers pointing towards her belly button, and then dipped his wide thumb into her folds to find her clit. The rough pad of his thumb circled it and soon had Y/N writhing, her hips bucking. Then he twisted his hand so that his thumb kept swirling around the hard little nub, but now his fingers could slide through her slick and then thrust deep and hard into her quivering body. 

Y/N screamed as he pressed against her g-spot making her come instantly. Her body shook as he continued to fuck her slowly with his fingers before sinking onto his stomach and letting his tongue take over. He flicked it back and forth against her and made her nearly convulse with pleasure. She came again, on his tongue, gripping his long hair, and using it to keep his mouth pressed against her. 

But he had no intention of moving any time soon, and kept her coming over and over. “Missed those sounds.” He said as Y/N shuddered and groaned and whimpered. “Say my name, darlin', I missed that too.”

Y/N grunted and then groaned as he slammed his three fingers into her particularly deep. “Fuck Jensen, oh fuck! Yes!” 

He smiled against her dripping pussy and pressed his fingers against her g-spot again, ripping another blistering orgasm out of her. “Perfect.” He praised.

Her throat was raw from crying out her pleasure before Jensen finally moved up her body to lay over top of her. He pushed her messy hair away from her forehead and kissed her, featherlight, across her cheeks. He smiled softly at her now, as she looked up at him, her expression thoroughly blissed out and her eyes hazy. 

“Missed your face like this. So beautiful, so completely open.” After a moment of watching Jensen watch her, Y/N’s mind cleared enough to register that his brow was crinkled in what looked like worry or fear. But before she could wonder about it for too long, he leaned down to press his lips ever so gently against hers. 

As he kissed her, he easily slid his thick cock into her body. She clenched around him and he buried his face in her neck as he spoke, muffled, against her skin. 

“And ungh, fuck! I missed this feeling. So tight and warm, so…so fucking perfect. Like…” He pulled out and slid back into her, moving incredibly slowly, savoring every inch. “Feels like - ungh!” 

He growled as her cunt squeezed around him again, and he lost all ability to speak, becoming wild and a little brutal as he rutted into her, ramming harshly into her tight, wet, heat over and over, until he was lifting her of the bed with every thrust and Y/N was screaming and clawing his back, shoving her heels into his ass, pushing him deeper still. Finally, he exploded with a shout through gritted teeth, and as she climaxed one more time, she felt the familiar, warm feeling of his cum shooting deep inside her and filling her up. 

They laid together, panting, for a long time. Everything felt surreal as Y/N began to float back to earth. It felt like she was in a very vivid dream. Eventually, Jensen rolled off of her and she moved onto her side so she could look at him. She opened her mouth to say something, to try and make sense of what had just happened between them, but Jensen put a finger to her lips and shook his head.

“Please, baby,” he said, exhaustion lacing his voice, “tomorrow, okay?”

He opened his arms, inviting Y/N to move into his embrace, and she did. She snuggled against him and pushed the questions out of her mind. Tomorrow would be soon enough to tackle some answers.

Yeah, tomorrow, she thought as she drifted off.

But when she woke in the morning, Jensen was gone. 

No note, no text, no explanation. If it wasn’t for the bruises and bites he’d left on her skin, she might have thought he was just a dream in the night, just a figment of her imagination. But he'd been there, and now he was just gone, taking all of her answers and another slice of her heart along with him.

Part 2

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla

#jensen ackles rpf #request fic #jacklesversebingo23 #jensen x reader #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles angst

[muffinsin]

A minor interruption

Brat/Sub. Cassandra x Top/Mommy fem. reader

Prompt: Cassandra annoys and teases you while you work one time too often

Masterlists

“I’m working, Cassandra.”, You complain half heartedly, but your girlfriend’s hands on your waist don’t move away and instead just pull you back against her front.

“Why do that if you could play with me?”, Cassandra asks irritated. She understands that you are a maid at the Castle and therefore have certain chores to do, she just doesn’t grasp why you can’t dismiss them for a while- Cassandra is one of your superiors after all!

“You’ve been very good lately, so here’s this:”, you turn around and wipe the blood from around Cassandra’s lips with your sleeve, tsk’ing lightly. She’s always so messy...

“I try to finish as quick as possible and then you’ll have me all to yourself, Sugar.”, you offer instead.

Cassandra eyes you, as if considering this.

”That will take hours! Can’t you just have someone else do it!?”, She complains loudly. “You do realize that doing things for others is my job? Tidying the castle rooms, preparing food, cleaning, we can’t just have someone else do that, Sugar, but as I said, I’ll be as quick as I can be. You could spend some time with your sisters or in the cellar in the meantime.”, You hum and turn back to dusting off the shelf.

“Bela is out.”, Cassandra grumbles in response and trails her hands back over your backside.

”Go play with Daniela then, pretty girl.”, you answer distractedly. The word ‘play’ is enough to have the brunette swarm off angrily.

”You done?”

You shriek in surprise and nearly fall off the ladder, had Cassandra not caught and steadied you.

”Don't… scare me…like that! We talked about the whole sneaking up thing!”, you pant, a hand raising to your chest as you attempt to catch your breath again.

“And no, I’m not, how was it with Daniela though?”, You add and remove Cassandra’s hands from around you so you can continue wiping the bookshelves.

”Ugh! Daniela’s acting like her life is so hard! Mother caught her breaking a vase and now she isn’t allowed in the cellar for a week- I wasn’t allowed down there for two months once!”, Cassandra complains.

”And don’t get me started on her stupid romance books! I had to sit and listen to her complain about a useless love story for hours!”, She huffs.

When you don’t answer immediately, the bold brunette smirks and gropes your ass. The gasp that follows is enough to lift her mood for the time being. “Not now.”, you reply sternly and push those greedy hands away again.

“There’s no one here.”, Cassandra hums as she swarms halfway to lift herself to your height on the ladder. “We could just take a break.”, She whispers in your ear, her warm breath tickling your skin.

”Your mother will be most displeased if I dismiss my chores again. You’ve forced me to do that too often already, sugar, not today. But go to the cellar, you always mention how quickly time passes when you’re down there. I’ll get you when i’m done.”, You offer and peck Cassandra’s nose quickly.

The action, as expected, drives the other woman off, for she hasn’t been in the cellar at all that day and doesn’t necessarily want you to notice the blush on her cheeks and neck.

You gasp when you feel two hands grab you from behind, before you are pulled into a nearby room and dropped onto the bed.

Cassandra stands in front of you, the lower part of her face and her clothes covered in blood and with her sickle dripping blood onto the floor.

”I’ll have to clean that!”, you shriek, more than just a little frustrated at your girlfriend. While you’re thankful that the blood drips onto the floor and not a carpet, you still aren’t at all happy with her. Your arms already ache slightly from all the dusting and cleaning that you are not looking forward to also cleaning the mess produced by your girlfriend.

”You said you’d be finished soon!”, Cassandra whines and lets the sickle drop to the floor.

“I promised I would hurry.”, you correct.

”I want to play now.”, Cassandra declares and swarms onto your lap. The blood from her dress dirties the red satin sheets below you. Great, another thing to clean.

You pull the black fabric up until you have access to Cassandra’s black panties. You hum- of course, wet. With swift movements you pull them down, only to reveal even more wetness.

The brunette moans when two fingers are pushed into her, her thighs spreading a little wilder for you. “Faster.”, She groans and smirks when you do exactly that.

She groans again when you easily find her favorite spot inside of her and gasps when the fingers are removed just as quick as they had entered her. Instead a hard smack is delivered to her cunt that has her swarm off your lap in surprise.

”On the floor.”, you command strictly.

”Clean that.”, you add when the brunette woman lowers herself to her knees angrily. You point towards the blood caused by her sickle and when Cassandra doesn’t move, you grip her tightly by her hair and push her face down against the floor. The middle daughter of Alcina Dimitrescu would never admit how loud she moaned at the action.

”Lick that off, Cassie.”, you coo, and with another deliciously painful tug on her hair, Cassandra complies at last and lickes the blood off of the otherwise clean floor. She moans at the taste and pushes her ass back in hopes of meeting your fingers again.

”You’re not getting off now. We’re playing when I’m finished working.”, you clarify once the floor is as clean as it has been before. “Open up.”, You add and Cassandra, admittedly annoyed and less than happy to be the one on her knees, complies again and opens her mouth. She grumbles and growls angrily when neither her your front is brought against her lips, nor your fingers are pushed into her mouth, but her own, wet panties fill her mouth instead.

”Behave now, or we won’t play at all today.”, you scold, collecting the blood stained sheets from the bed before walking out of the room.

One room. Only one more room and you’d been finished with your work, had Cassandra not interrupted you again.

You yelp in surprise when you feel yourself being lifted and surrounded by a swarm of bugs, before you’re set back on the floor a few moments later, in Cassandra’s room. She stares angrily at you, though doesn’t miss the way your eyes scan her hungrily.

The room you find yourself in is unique and definitely screams Cassandra Dimitrescu- it never fails to surprise you, no matter how often you’ve been in here. Nearly every time you enter the bedroom there is a new weapon hanging on the wall or a new, bigger, more impressive trophy mounted on Cassandra’s red painted wall. Her bed is big, fitting for a regal woman such as her, and has equally red satin sheets as most rooms in the castle have. There are several red and black pillows on it and a small nightstand stands next to the bed that holds, as you have come to know, a black dagger in one of its drawers.

You find yourself pressed against the shut door and moan when you feel Cassandra’s tongue and the edge of her teeth drag alongside your neck. Ignoring your own needs for a few minutes long, you push forwards and grasp her brunette hair in a tight grip again. All it takes it a sharp tug for Cassandra to gasp and lower her face a little to look you in the eyes.

”You couldn’t wait, could you?!”, you hiss and tug on Cassandra’s hair aggressively when the woman doesn’t seem to feel like replying. You chuckle when she moans and presses her thighs together instead. “Such a dirty girl, mean, little Cassandra can’t wait for her girlfriend to finish her work?”, you mock and tug on the brunette hair some more until Cassandra nods wordlessly, yet quickly.

“Words, pretty girl”, you remind her easily.

“You took too long.”, is her only reply.

You sigh, your teeth slightly gritted.

“Undress and bend over, I want to see you grip your ankles.”, you instruct and watch as she quickly swarms out of her dress and- for once, seemingly- does as she is told.

When a hard smack is delivered to the relatively cold skin of her bottom, Cassandra squeals and swarms away. You can’t help but laugh at her. When she resurfaces, she eyes you somewhat angrily.

The expression only makes you laugh again.

”What? Thought I’d fill your little cunt now, you dirty girl? You need punishment and then maybe, I’ll have my fun with you.”, you clarify harshly and step closer to the brunette who can only watch with wide, golden eyes.

“Bend over there.”, you hum, pointing to a desk that stands against the wall of her room. “I won’t let you spank me like a child! You took too long! Why can’t you-“, Cassandra’s angry ramble is easily cut off when you bend her over yourself and reposition her until her upper arms and hands lay flush against the wall, her breasts press against the desk and her bare bottom stands out exposed to you.

”You better not swarm”, is all you grit out before your firm hand hits Cassandra’s bottom again. The woman yelps sweetly and curses angrily, but you don’t miss the way her thighs clench together.

”Is this turning you on, my little pet?”, you ask, mirroring what she likes to call her victims, with another spank being delivered to her thick ass. The woman moans and pushes back against your front, not at all oblivious to her juicy cheeks jiggling with each hit.

”Fuck me already!”, She whines and gasps when another, harder smack follows her words.

”Don't make me gag you.”

Smack!

Cassandra whines and hooks her claws into the wall. You don’t care about the marks she will leave.

Smack!

You spread Cassandra’s legs and stroke over her exposed cunt teasingly. Collecting some of the wetness, you grin as you smear it over the brat’s ass cheeks.

“So, so wet. I bet I wouldn’t even have to use lube on you right now. I’d just, slide right into you”, you hum and continue spanking her lover.

A red handprint forms quickly on both of her ass cheeks and tears threaten to run down Cassandra’s cheeks from the stinging pain, but oh dear, she has never been this wet before. Her cunt is utterly soaked and she feels her own, slippery wetness run down her thighs and ass where you’ve smeared it.

She whimpers when you bend forwards to grab one of the whips from the wall and press yourself against Cassandra’s sore bottom.

“You could just get on with it already!”, She complains, but releases a sound of a mix between a scream and a moan when you bring the whip down against her already pink ass.

”I quite like this one.”, you hum as you inspect it, and laugh when you bring it down against Cassandra’s red bottom again and it results in another scream. It seems, this one is enough to make your bratty songbird sing.

”Aww, did I make the mean, sadistic little Dimitrescu daughter cry?”, you coo when you notice the tears running down her flushed cheeks. She’s blushing adorably.

”Fuck you!”, is all the stubborn woman offers for a reply. Her skin is hot for once and the sting of the whip makes her so wet, she feels it on the desk. It’s humiliating and so, so erotic.

When, added to the handprints, you are also able to make out fine lines caused by the whip on Cassandra’s cheeks, you turn the whip around and effortlessly push it into her soaked pussy.

”Fuck, you’re so wet. You know a punishment isn’t supposed to do that, Cassie. Who’d have thought you’re such a little slut for pain?”, you taunt, pushing the handle of the whip in and out of the bent over brunette.

”Yes! More!”, Cassandra moans and drags her sharp, claw-like nails through the wall. The marks will undoubtedly be noticeable afterwards.

”First of all, you will address me correctly when you want something, you needy, perverted slut. Second of all, you will receive only what I want you to receive, when I want it and how much I want it.”, you clarify, but quicken your pace.

You feel your mouth watering at the sight of the whip entering and pushing in and out of your beautiful girlfriend with a wet squelching sound. Each time you pull it out even a little bit, it comes out covered in more of her juices.

You move and turn the whip during the pounds and grip her hair with the other hand. “Look at me when I fuck your tight pussy”, you order and tug on the brunette, messy hair until Cassandra looks over her shoulder and her golden, desperate eyes find yours.

”You want to cum? Beg for it then, slut”, you demand, a self satisfied smirk on your lips. You know, your girlfriend isn’t about to start begging just yet, too stubborn to lower herself to that level of submission. Ironically enough, if you consider her red, marked ass and the whip pounding into her mercilessly.

When Cassandra doesn’t speak up aside from her moans and occasional commands (those fall to deaf ears though), you remove the whip entirely and instead push it into the her open mouth.

”Ah-Ah-Ah!”, you tsk when she tries to protest pathetically. “Work your pretty mouth and clean that for me.”, you command with a slightly painful tug of Cassandra’s clit. The woman moans and sucks the whip clean obediently, occasionally moaning at her own taste on it.

She yelps when she is the one to be lifted and groans when her sore bottom makes contact with your arms.

When she is set down on the bed again, you pull the whip from her mouth and toss it aside. “Spread your legs”, you command and nod approvingly when Cassandra does so quickly, her disobedience roughly spanked, whipped, humiliated and fucked out of her.

You slap her sensitive nipples and nod approvingly when she only moans and arches her back, but doesn’t attempt or try and remove her hands. “Hands above your head”, you hum, but end up grabbing her hands yourself and pushing them above her head.

You grip her face and bite Cassandra’s lip so hard is bleeds, but lick the blood away before your girlfriend can do so. “Look at you, so wet for me. Maybe I should present you to your mother like this, tell her this filthy, wet cunt is the reason I can’t do my job.”, you hum, chuckling as you trap Cassandra’s nipple between your fingers again.

You collect some of her wetness and smear it across Cassandra’s face, so it mixes with the little blood that is still stuck there. “You see this? How messy you are? Now you’re just a messy, little thing, just like your cunt.”, you tease and delivered a small spank to Cassandra’s clit.

”M-More.”, She groans, but keeps quiet after you push your fingers into her mouth. “When you’re not using it for my pleasure, I want that mouth shut.”, you snap as you push your her fingers in far enough for her to gag and cough around them. You repeat the action a couple of times before letting go again when Cassandra stops gagging so beautifully around you, having seemingly adjusted already.

Instead you chuckle when you hear her scream upon entering her with her with four fingers. Your thumb flicks her clit while your fingers, wet from her cunt and her salvia, thrust into her quickly. They aren’t quite as long as the whip, but added up they take more space and rub Cassandra’s walls with every thrust.

When you curl your fingers, Cassandra’s back arches and her hands grip the pillows above her. “Get on my face, slut.”, you command breathlessly, though you don’t stop or ease your thrusts into her.

Cassandra moves shakily, but falls back down when you hit the spot inside of her that makes her see stars.

”Come on, pretty girl, move or I’ll stop and spank you again, maybe this time in front of the other maidens, have them see why I can’t do my job, have them fuck your little holes. Maybe that’ll teach you some manners.”, you hum, and while you both know it’s an empty threat, it makes Cassandra whimper and moan and move until she kneels on the bed, with your hand between her spread thighs.

When you pull out of her, you lifted your hand and clean it by smearing the juices on it against Cassandra’s face.

The sight makes you chuckle again. It’s about time entitled little Cassandra gets what she deserves…

You undo the belt from your uniform and tie Cassandra’s hands together behind her back, your fingertips moving across pale, beautiful skin. “No touching yourself, just because I won’t be able to see it.”, you remind her with a sly smirk, then move to lay down on the bed.

Cassandra quickly moves and slides on top of you, her wet cunt sat upon your stomach and chest.

”Come here”, you coo, gripping Cassandra’s thighs when she moves to sit on your face instead.

Your tongue immediately and hungrily aims for her wet clit and finds it with ease. You chuckle against her skin as you suck it in your mouth and twirl it around your tongue, even allow it to scrape your teeth once or twice, and Cassandra bucks and moans above you.

Her hands, tied securely behind her back, struggle to free themselves, but to no avail. Her breasts remain untouched and your hands on her thighs are the only thing steadying the brunette woman.

She feels your warm and wet tongue enter her criminally slowly and whines helplessly when your nose brushes against her sensitive clit with every thrust inside of her.

When your hands move from her thighs, she nearly falls off her face, but is caught by your hand on her breast.

Your other hand joins your tongue, so that Cassandra cries out when three fingers are pushed into her and two fingers tug, squeeze and flick her overly sensitive clit.

Her thighs begin to cramp and shake and the familiar pressure begins bubbling in her stomach. She cries out with every thrust inside of her and every tug on her clit, for it causes her to grind on your face and her bruised ass to rub against you.

You hum at this. It’s good she has a reminder to teach her to behave, this time.

“I-fuck! I’m gonna cu-ah!-um!”, She moans and bucks her hips helplessly against your face. Her bound hands and the position don’t allow her any control at all, so the poor thing can only watch and shake on top of you when she hits her orgasm.

Cassandra hardly notices when you sit up, if it wasn’t for the fact that she now finds herself in you lap again.

”Look at the mess you made, Cass.”, you tsk again, and chuckle when your hand comes in contact with her clit again. If she wasn’t so exhausted, she would swarm to save her sensitive clit the hard slap.

”Aww, are you sensitive, pretty girl?”, you coo teasingly when you notice Cassandra’s deep breaths and the way her hips try to jerk away after her clit is slapped.

”Is your little clit overstimulated? Is your messy pussy rubbed sore?”, you tease some more, though you already know the answer.

As she tried calling you by your name, a hand is clasped over her mouth. “You will address me properly, you don’t get to use my name now, you horny little slut.”, you whisper. Cassandra’s eyes roll back when you pinch her clit mercilessly.

Cassandra tries to buck her hips, or somehow get off your lap when her clit receives more tugs and flicks, but you hold her waist in a tight grip and her hands are little to no help.

She curses herself quietly when the pain and overstimulation makes her even hornier and wetter, to the point where you could be calling her your cum slut for wetting your lap in her juices and you wouldn’t even be wrong.

”You’re going to clean mommy up, pretty girl.”, you clarify and Cassandra feels her cunt ache at the petnames. You tuck her hair behind her ear so you can see her pretty face and the mark on her forehead clearly. Both her hair, and the mark after it is traced, are now also wet from Cassandra’s own cum.

”You’re going to get a bath after this, don’t worry, sugar, I know how messy you are, after all.”, you promise with a kiss to Cassandra’s nose. When she turns her head to hide her blush, you can’t help but laugh.

Apparently, you can spank her lover, whip her and fuck her sore, but Cassandra gets shy when she blushes after being kissed on the nose.

“Clean my face.”, you command with a smirk and leaned back on your elbows when Cassandra eagerly licks her own cum off your wet cheeks and lips like a starving kitten. Occasionally, you buck her hips up to throw Cassandra off balance, only to mock and tease her about it and set her down on your lap again.

“Another part of me needs cleaning too, sugar.”, you add and chuckle when the needy brunette fidgets to get off of your lap already; she is more than ready to repay you with some teasing and painfully slow licks.

Of course, you know this. “Make me cum. If you tease me..”, you trail off and tug Cassandra’s clit and nipple with each hand, which causes the brunette to jump and curse stubbornly.

”You’re not in charge now, my sweet girl.”, is all you add before too, at last, fully undress.

Cassandra’s hands struggle against the belt and she considers simply swarming out of the restrains, but a stern glance of yours stops her from doing so. Instead she grits her teeth angrily. She knows, you want to get her to the point where she is about to beg to have her hands released, yet both her pride and own stubbornness hold her back from that.

She gasps when you remove your panties, which are even more soaked than hers have been hours before. A line of arousal connects them to her dripping cunt, before it is cut off by you tossing the panties on the bed next to both of you.

”My patience is wearing thin, Cassandra.”, you warn, then gasp when Cassandra bends forwards and immediately thrusts her face between your thighs.

Said face is smeared with her own arousal and some blood already anyways, so Cassandra doesn’t mind messing it further with your arousal.

”Good slut, fuck, use that tongue of yours.”, you groan and grip Cassandra’s hair tightly. You hook your legs around Cassandra’s waist, which makes the woman fall forwards without being able to catch herself properly.

You smack Cassandra’s head lightly when you notice her lick around you, but not enter you. “Don’t be such a damn tease.”, you groan under your breath and push the Dimitrescu daughter deeper between your legs, almost suffocating her.

”F-Fuck, just like that, good girl.”, you praise when Cassandra licks and sucks on your clit obediently.

You groan as you practically fuck Cassandra’s face until you come all over the bed and your girlfriend.

”My good, pretty girl.”, you praise, panting when you unhook your legs and let Cassandra back up for some air.

Her nose and mouth are covered in her cum and her hair is a sticky mess, sticky from sweat and both of their juices.

”You’re so hot.”, you moan as you bring your lips against Cassandra’s. Your mind provides you with the vision of Cassandra’s upper body covered in your cum and her your buck up almost instinctively.

You take notice of Cassandra’s blood red bottom and cunt and let your fingers drag through her folds quickly before retracting again when Cassandra whimpers and moans.

“I should interrupt your work more often.”, Cassandra taunts with a tired chuckle.

”Shut your bratty mouth, sugar.”, is your only reply as you grab and stuff your panties in Cassandra’s mouth. You take a moment to appreciate her surprised face and how submissive she looks for her, with her hands bound behind her back, panties in her mouth, red ass and cunt, makeup running and face smeared with all kinds of juices and blood.

”Let’s get you cleaned up, love.”, you hum and unbind Cassandra’s hands, which hang limp by her side the moment they are released. You notice the red marks from the belt, but don’t comment on them, it was Cassandra’s tugging and struggling that tightened her restrains, so she’d bear the consequences. Still, you make a mental note to apply some cream after.

You rise from the bed and lift the tired brunette into your arms, before moving her to the attached bathroom. When she lifts her heavy arms to remove the gag, you slap the hands away. “I meant it, keep your dirty mouth shut.”, you clarify and set the woman on the toilet seat so you could start the bath.

“Bubbles.”, Cassandra mutters embarrassed, but thankfully, for her, you don’t turn around and instead just add some soap for your blushing girlfriend.

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cross posted on ao3 #me is sorry for typos #me is tired

[pandenewie]

Prom King

SYNOPSIS:

Y/n and their best friend Intak made a bucket list to make their final year of high school absolutely perfect. Although Y/n’s list of to-dos is now complete, Intak has just one more thing to tick off - win prom king. All is well, until they hear a certain Kim Sunoo is also running.

PAIRING: sunoo x gn!reader

GENRE: nonidol!au, highschool!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn (they hate each other for most of it) fluff, crack, ft P1harmony Intak, Itzy Yuna, Le Sserafim Kazuha, Ateez Seonghwa, Stray Kids Minho, TXT Beomgyu, Enhypen Jay

WORD COUNT: 18.2k

FRIDAY - 21 DAYS TILL PROM:

“Bestie!”

Part of Y/n regrets teaching Intak internet slang. The amount of “slays” and “side eyes” heard each day would draw any sane person to their limit. But they suppose the goofy smile on his face makes up for the near insanity. Just.

Y/n and Intak have been friends since middle school after he accidentally made them cry because their team lost dodgeball. One apology and a shared popsicle later, they were inseparable. Now, all these years have passed and he’s still the same 12 year old boy from back then, stealing their pens and waking up early just to carpool to school (he claims Y/n’s car’s a.c is better, but really he just wants to spend time with them.)

“You literally saw me an hour ago.” Intak can’t help but roll his eyes at his friend’s words, pulling Y/n into a side hug nonetheless. “That’s like… a whole 60 minutes.” He groans, causing Y/n to sigh. “Oh no! Poor little Intak… how are you gonna survive when we go to university? Or even worse, when we have actual jobs?” Intak lets out a laugh, attempting to brush his hair out of his face. “Bold of you to assume I’m not attached to your hip for life.”

Intak has always been clingy - or better yet, loyal. Once he opens himself up to someone, he attaches himself wholeheartedly to that person. It’s one of his many dog-like qualities that make him so easy to be around - so easy to adore. Stressing over homework? Intak will lend his mostly wrong answers. Crying over an ex? Intak’s over within minutes with movies and ice cream. Y/n feels very lucky to have someone like him in their life.

A lot of people at their school assume that the two are dating, which is honestly laughable to them. Obviously to an outsider, this sort of affection may seem a little odd but with Y/n and Intak it’s just natural. Their relationship is anything but romantic. Besides, Intak is just so… Intak.

“You know, I feel bad for your future wife.” Y/n sighs as they walk with Intak to their next class. The boy turns around to look at them confused, Y/n mentally cursing at his long legs as they struggle to keep up with his speed. “Why? She’ll love you too. We can be a cute little trio!” Intak gushes. “And be a third wheel for the rest of my life? No thank you.”

The rest of the day speeds by quickly and before they know it, the final bell rings, dismissing the students for the day. Students rush to get out of their seats but are immediately stopped by their teacher, Mr Lee.

“Before you run off, don’t forget you have your final presentations due next week. Try to meet up with your buddy over the weekend if you can.” A class of groans erupts at the teacher’s words - bar Intak and Y/n, who look at each other with a smirk. Pros of being partnered with your best friend.

“Oh, and the list of contenders for prom king and queen is up by the gym. Voting starts next week and remember you can only vote once so… yada yada no one’s listening. You’re dismissed.”

Before Y/n can even finish packing up their books, Intak grabs their hand and pulls them out of the classroom. “What the hell Intak? My car is that way!” Y/n groans as he pulls them through the halls, not so gracefully bumping into a few people along the way.

As they eventually come to a stop, Y/n realises that he has taken them to the gym. “Look, there’s my name!” Intak gushes, pointing at the bold Hwang Intak that’s written on the paper. Y/n smiles lovingly at their friends happiness but can’t help the gentle roll of the eyes that follows. “Did you just take me here to brag about running for prom king?” “No, I’m here to check out the competition.”

At the beginning of the year, Intak and Y/n each wrote a “bucket list” containing the things they wanted to achieve in their final year of high school. It was full of simple things, like having perfect yearbook photos, joining certain clubs, etc. Y/n ticked off their final one just last week, after they had finally gotten an A on Mr Park's “unbeatable assignment” they’d heard upperclassmen complaining about for years. Intak however, has just one more thing on his list. Win prom king.

Intak’s eyes vigorously scan over the list before his shoulders seem to deflate. “What’s wrong?” Y/n asks, immediately squeezing in next to him in order to see the list as well. Their eyes quickly scan the names before landing on the one right at the bottom… Kim Sunoo. “Well… there goes my bucket list.” Intak laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

Sunoo has always been Intak’s rival of sorts. It all started years ago, when the two took the same dance class. Intak and Sunoo were each other’s biggest competition. When it came down to Sunoo’s fluid and flexible dance style versus Intak’s bold and precise one - Sunoo almost always came out on top. Intak was good, sure. But Sunoo had a natural charm to him that Intak just couldn’t compete with. The same thing happened throughout school, when they both decided to join the drama club. Intak once again, was in second place - constantly losing roles and opportunities to Sunoo. 

Finally, high school came around and Intak managed to find something he really shined in, which was soccer. Not only did he really enjoy it, but there was also no Sunoo around to steal his spotlight. That was until Sunoo joined the cheerleading team and once again, the spotlight became shared.

“Come on, I’ve got practice but I can walk you to your car.” Intak attempts to pull Y/n away from the list but they stay put - anger practically dripping from their body. “That selfish asshole.” Y/n scoffs, aggressively poking his name, as if proving a point. God, even his handwriting is annoying. “He’s already the captain of the cheer team, the lead in the school play, has nearly perfect grades and is on the student council. He just needs to have this too? Can’t stand someone else having the spotlight for one fucking night?”

Y/n is fuming. It’s no secret that they aren’t the most fond of Sunoo, especially due to what he put Intak through over the years. This is just the icing on top of the “reasons to hate Kim Sunoo” cake.

“Hey, it’s alright. I don’t care that much anyway.” Intak attempts to calm his friend, finally managing to pull them back the direction they came. “You wouldn’t have put it on your list if you didn’t care, Intak.” Y/n sighs. “Well yeah but I’m up against Sunoo! I’m not gonna win so there’s no point in making a big deal of it.” Intak mumbles. Y/n can tell that he’s disappointed. For whatever reason, winning prom king is really important to Intak. So in that moment, they mentally promise to do whatever it takes to make it happen.

MONDAY - 18 DAYS TILL PROM:

Intak doesn’t hate people. No matter what they do or say to him, he just can’t bring himself to do it. Y/n however, isn’t anywhere as nice as Intak. So they hate people for him. This is evident on their face as they make their way towards Sunoo’s desk as soon as class is over.

“We need to talk.”

Sunoo looks up from his book at the sudden presence, and his eyes light up with mischief as they lock with Y/n’s.

“Y/n! To what do I owe this pleasure?” His voice drips with sarcasm as he lays his chin in his palm, looking up at Y/n with a smirk. Violence is never the answer but god, does Y/n want to punch him right now. “Oh cut the crap Sunoo.”

Sunoo knows all about Y/n’s hate for him. And although he swears he’s done nothing to deserve it, he certainly isn’t opposed to biting back. What’s the harm in dishing out the same treatment? Besides, Y/n looks extremely cute when they’re mad.

“You know, you look so pretty when you smile, Y/n. It’s a shame I only see you when you’re scowling.” Sunoo teases, bringing his finger up to gently poke at the furrow between Y/n’s brows - causing them to push it away almost immediately. “Stop being such an ass and I’d have something to smile about.”

Sunoo can’t help but laugh at Y/n’s meaningless jab, only making them even angrier. “Why the hell did you sign up for prom king?” They spit, almost as if the words were venomous. Sunoo can’t help the confused expression that makes its way across his face. They’re upset over that?

“I don’t know, Yuna signed me up without telling me.” Sunoo shrugs nonchalantly. This answer only adds fuel to the fire that is Y/n’s anger. “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me. Do you even care about being prom king?” They scoff, causing Sunoo to shrug once more. “I think the whole thing is stupid to be honest.” He says. “Great! Drop out.” And with that, Y/n swiftly turns on their heel and walks out of the classroom.

The silence however is short-lived as Sunoo jogs up behind them. “Why the hell would I drop out?” He asks, causing Y/n to roll their eyes. “You said it yourself, you don’t care about it. And yet you running for prom king directly stops other people from having a chance.” Y/n states. Now it’s Sunoo’s turn to roll his eyes. “You’re acting like it’s a scholarship or something. It’s just a dumb plastic crown-” “-WOULD IT KILL YOU TO THINK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE FOR ONCE?” Y/n yells, cutting off his sentence.

“Kim Sunoo! Y/N L/N! Why aren’t you two in class?” Mr Lee pokes his head out from his classroom, looking at the two with a scowl on his face. “And what is so important that you need to yell in the halls?” He continues. Y/n looks at the ground sheepishly, mumbling an apology. “I want to see the both of you in my classroom at the end of the day, now get to class.” Mr Lee scolds.

Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Kim Sunoo across from a visibly frustrated Mr Lee is not exactly how Y/n saw their afternoon going. Intak waits nervously outside the classroom, pressing his ear against the door in hopes to hear what his best friend is in trouble for now.

“It’s not just today’s stunt that I’m upset with. You two have a knack for… disturbing the peace whenever you’re together. And honestly, it’s doing my head in.” Mr Lee sighs. “Now we obviously don’t expect all of our students to get along perfectly, you’re human beings after all. But is it too much to ask for you both to be civil about it? Or at least wait to scream at each other after school hours?” He continues. “No offence sir, but I would rather jump in front of a moving bus than see Sunoo after school hours.” Y/n says, causing Sunoo to scoff. “It’s after school right now, dummy.” Sunoo rolls his eyes. Mr Lee sighs once again, sensing that an argument is about to start.

“This is what I mean. When I don’t get along with someone, I go out of my way not to see them. It seems you two go out of your way to fight.” Y/n and Sunoo both mumble out apologies. 

“I’ve been talking to some of your other teachers and we all agree that something should be done about this. So, we’ve decided to sign you up with the community centre down the street. They needed new volunteers and it’s the perfect opportunity for you two to put this weird feud to rest and make some real change. And, it’ll look good when applying for college, which is a nice bonus.”

Y/n and Sunoo look at Mr Lee as if he’s just told them the worst news imaginable. In some way, he has. “Look Mr Lee, I’m all for helping the community and all but can’t Intak and I do it?” Y/n asks, causing Sunoo to roll his eyes. “That defeats the whole purpose if you do it with him.” He scowls. “I don’t want to hear any fuss about this. It’ll be two days a week, after school Thursdays and Sundays. And if I hear that either of you are acting up I’ll have no choice but to strip away your senior benefits - which means no senior trip and no prom.”

If Y/n hated Mr Lee a minute ago, those words that just came out of his mouth made them love him again. Poor guy doesn’t know that he’s just given Y/n a great idea… Sunoo can’t run for prom king if he’s been kicked out of the whole event. All Y/n needs to do is find a way to get Sunoo in trouble at this community centre without getting themself involved.

THURSDAY - 15 DAYS TILL PROM:

Waiting outside the community centre in the scorching heat is not how Y/n planned to spend their afternoon. And with no sign of Sunoo, their anger starts to boil up - much like the temperature outside.

Just as they’re about to give up and tell Mr Lee that Sunoo was a no-show, a familiar car pulls up in the carpark and none other than Kim Sunoo steps out.

“You have some nerve. I’ve been waiting for like 10 minutes!” Y/n scowls, causing Sunoo to furrow his brows. “What time were we supposed to get here?” He asks. This only frustrates Y/n more. He doesn’t even respect them enough to value their time?

“God, you really are selfish. The email said 3:30.” Y/n pulls out their phone to back up their point with the email, only for their face to fall. “3:45 babe.” Sunoo smirks, watching as Y/n’s face heats up in embarrassment. They were sure it said 3:30. “Were you just so excited to see me that you came early?” He asks, making Y/n scoff - avoiding eye contact. “You wish! I was just… showing my dedication to… y’know, serving the community and… stuff.”

For the first time in what seems like forever, Y/n feels small under Sunoo’s gaze. They are so used to butting heads, always having a snarky remark or point to make. It seems that this interaction has somehow managed to knock Y/n off their pedestal - at least a little.

“I’m sure you standing out here has done so much for the community. Now, I don’t know about you but I’m gonna go inside.” Sunoo says, playfully ruffling Y/n’s hair before entering the building. Y/n scoffs out a few insults before fixing their hair and following suit.

Inside the building is a lot cooler than outside, the cold air conditioning a stark contrast to the outdoor heat. The two stand awkwardly in the front reception, watching as the person behind the desk talks on the phone.

“Wait, I’ve got people. Go complain to someone else.” The person says before abruptly hanging up, his irritated expression flipping to an almost scary smile. “Hi! How can I help you?” He asks. Sunoo nudges Y/n, who rolls their eyes before speaking up. “We’re here for the volunteer thing.” Y/n says, glancing down at the name tag that reads Minho - with a small cat face drawn next to it.

“Cool, what department?” He asks, typing something on his computer. “Uh… what?” Y/n asks, causing Minho to let out an exaggerated groan, spinning in his chair for added effect. “What department are you in? It’ll be on the sign up email.” He clarifies. Sunoo scrambles to check the email from Mr Lee, not seeing anything about a department. He shows Minho the email, causing his eyes to light up. “Oh! You’re the trouble kids?” He asks, turning his attention back to the computer momentarily. “I wouldn’t say that…” Y/n mumbles, causing Minho to laugh slightly. “It’s not a dig at character, trust me. Nothing wrong with a little rule breaking.” He winks. “Don’t tell your teachers I told you that.” He adds before standing.

“Looks like you’ll be doing a little bit of everything. I’ll throw you in with Seonghwa at first, that way you can come to me when you actually know what you’re doing.” Minho says, unlocking a backdoor before gesturing for the two to follow.

Minho leads them down a nicely lit hallway, pointing out different rooms and doors as they go. “Since we mainly do goods distribution here, we’re split into department’s so it’s easier to manage. You’ve got Seonghwa for kids - so that’s everything from toys, baby products, anything else children need. Then Beomgyu is in grocery. That’s just your basic food items. And then finally I’m on clothes and pet stuff.”

After his little introduction, he stops at a door before loudly knocking, causing Sunoo and Y/n to jump slightly. The door quickly opens and the head of a man who looks around Minho’s age pokes out. “Fresh meat.” Minho jokes, gesturing to the two students. “I told you to stop calling them that! And you wonder why people say you’re scary.” Seonghwa sighs, opening the door fully. “I’ll take it from here. You can go back to your phone call.” He continues.

Minho bids his goodbyes before walking back off down the hall. “Don’t let him scare you. He’s secretly a big softie.” Seonghwa says. “Anyway, I’m Seonghwa. I run the kids department here. I’m guessing you’re Y/n and Sunoo?” He asks, causing the two to nod silently.

Seonghwa looks at the two suspiciously. “Are you sure the school sent the right kids? Your teacher said you’re at each other’s throats 24/7.” He asks. “I’m sure Y/n will start something soon.” Sunoo mumbles, causing Y/n’s eye to twitch. They bite their tongue however, if they want this plan of getting Sunoo in trouble to work then they’ll have to make sure they’re on Seonghwa’s good side. “I’m sure we can put our differences aside for this. Especially since it’s helping the community.” Y/n says, causing Sunoo to roll his eyes at their words. “I hope so. It’s amazing what can happen to a bond when you do something like this. You should’ve seen Minho and Beomgyu when they first started.” Seonghwa says. “Right, I guess I’ll give you a tour of the department.” He continues before walking them down the hall to the storage room.

FRIDAY - 14 DAYS TILL PROM:

“And we barely even argued! Which is weird.” Y/n exclaims, after reciting their experience at the community centre. Intak hums, shoving some of his lunch in his mouth. “Maybe you two are finally getting along.” He says nonchalantly. “Oh please, I’ll never get along with someone like him.” Y/n scoffs, causing Intak to roll his eyes. 

“I still don’t get why you hate him so much. You guys are more similar than you think.” He points out, causing Y/n to gasp. “First of all, never say that to me again. And second of all, he made your childhood miserable! Of course I’d hate him.” Y/n states matter-of-factly. “I wouldn’t say he made it miserable. I’m already insufferable as it is, imagine how big my ego would be if I never lost anything! Plus, it’s not like he beat me on purpose. That’s just how stuff goes sometimes…” Intak rambles. The two lock eyes for a moment and for a second Intak thinks his little speech got through to Y/n. “I’m still gonna hate him.” Y/n shrugs, causing Intak to sigh.

SUNDAY - 12 DAYS TILL PROM:

By the time Sunday rolls around, the fact that Y/n will have to spend all day with Sunoo finally settles in. Sure, they’ll have loads of stuff to do to hopefully keep them busy, but that won’t change the fact that he’s there. His presence alone is enough to frustrate Y/n.

“Sunday’s are pretty busy since it’s the one of days we hand everything out. So we have both delivery trucks picking stuff up and individual people. I’ll probably keep you two on sorting for now, just so I don’t overwhelm you too much.” Seonghwa says, making Sunoo and Y/n nod. “We do grocery on a separate day from clothes, kids and pets because of the amount of stock. So Beomgyu will be wandering around if you need any help and can’t find me. He’s only a few years older than you guys so I think you will get along well. You can always ask other volunteers too if you’re stuck.” With that, Seonghwa dismisses the two.

“Why the hell would you do it that way?”

“Babe, Seonghwa literally said there’s more than one way to do it.”

“Stop calling me babe! And if he saw what you were doing, he’d change his mind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The sound of Y/n and Sunoo’s argument fills the sorting room. It all started with Sunoo deciding he was going to stack the lego boxes upright rather than laying them flat. His thinking being that it takes up less room and leaves space for other things. Y/n however, insists that laying them flat leaves plenty of room for things to go on top - as well as making the container easier to close. Both are technically correct, but that’s not an acceptable answer to them.

As the two continue to argue, Sunoo yanks the box of lego out of Y/n’s hands - causing it to fall, splitting open and scattering lego pieces all over the floor. “Oh you’re so fucked.” Y/n laughs, causing Sunoo to complain about how they started the argument.

“Who the hell is screaming in here?” A voice asks. The two turn around to see Beomgyu standing in the doorway, his eyes lighting up as he sees them. “Oh hey trouble. I should’ve guessed it was you two.” He says, his gaze then falls to the lego all over the floor. “Oh shit.”

Sunoo and Y/n quickly try to pass the blame onto each other, causing Beomgyu to wave them off. “No offence, but I don’t give a shit who started it. Let’s just pick it all up before someone stands on it. Stepping on lego might as well be a torture method.” He says, crouching down to grab the broken box.

He notices the quiet atmosphere in the room and awkwardly laughs. “Don’t get scared now, this kinda stuff happens sometimes. If it makes you feel any better, Seonghwa takes home the faulty ones to add to his collection.” He says. The thought of Seonghwa at home surrounded by lego sets makes Y/n and Sunoo laugh slightly.

“Just… try not to do this sort of stuff when you’re in my department, okay? Spilled lego is a lot easier to handle than food.” The two nod as Beomgyu places the box on the counter. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it, then. Maybe try to be a little… quieter with the next argument.” He winks before leaving the room.

MONDAY - 11 DAYS TILL PROM:

“So… how was Sunday?” Yuna teases, causing Sunoo to look at her with an unimpressed expression. “Oh shut up.” He mumbles, causing her to stifle a laugh.

“I just feel bad for Y/n.” Kazuha says. “Being forced to spend time with Sunoo would be hell for anyone, but especially them.” Sunoo rolls his eyes at his friend, flipping her off before turning his attention back to his food. “Zuha’s right, you’re gonna drive them insane.” Yuna says. “Hey! They do the same to me!” Sunoo complains, causing Yuna to roll her eyes. “Well yeah, but they do it because they actually don’t like you. You do it because you’re trying to live out some weird enemies to lovers fanfic trope.” She points out. “True, not sure why you thought that would work.” Kazuha jumps in. “We get it, I’m a dumb guy who doesn’t know how to communicate my feelings. You’ve said this all before.” Sunoo dismisses.

“Just saying… maybe if you, I don’t know… spoke to them like normal people do to their crush.” Yuna shrugs. “Cause that works out so great for you two.” Sunoo deadpans. “You’re bitter because you know we’re right.” Kazuha teases, causing Sunoo to roll his eyes again.

TUESDAY - 10 DAYS TILL PROM:

Speak to them like a normal person. The thought has been running through Sunoo’s mind ever since lunch yesterday. Given the nature of his and Y/n’s relationship (if you could even call it that), he never even considered talking to them normally to be an option. But as he spots them walking down the hallway as school comes to an end, he figures what better time to start than now?

“Y/n!” Sunoo calls out, jogging through the halls to catch up to them. “Go away.” Y/n replies. “Oh come on babe, would it kill you to give me two seconds of your attention?” Sunoo asks, grabbing Y/n’s wrist. “Let go of me.” Y/n snarls, despite making no effort to pull away. Sunoo chooses to ignore their request, opting to teasingly pull them closer. “I wanna show you something.” He smirks, causing Y/n to roll their eyes. They quickly pull their arm out of his grip, folding their arms securely across their chest. “Well make it quick, I’m going to watch Intak’s practice.” Y/n mumbles.

Sunoo rolls his eyes at the mention of Intak but chooses not to comment. “One of my neighbours was talking to my mum about a care package she got. Apparently she’s signed up with the community centre. My mum sent me a photo.” Sunoo says, grabbing his phone and showing the picture to Y/n.

On his phone, is a picture of one of the boxes they packed on Sunday. This one is one of Y/n’s (you can tell from the way the lego box is placed). Y/n’s eyes light up at the photo, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Sunoo. “She said her sons were super excited when it arrived. They made the lego set together almost immediately.” He says, swiping to show a photo of the completed lego set.

“Oh my god! That’s so cool!” Y/n exclaims, leaning closer to get a better view of the photo. Sunoo attempts to ignore the way his heart skips at the gentle pressure of Y/n’s shoulder brushing against his. “I know right? Obviously it’s nice to make a difference but… actually seeing it is just… it’s awesome.” Sunoo says, causing Y/n to nod enthusiastically.

It goes silent for a second as Y/n suddenly notices how far they were leaning into him, immediately stepping back. Sunoo can almost see the invisible wall being built between them as Y/n puts their guard back up - the sight causing Sunoo to frown slightly. “I uh… thanks for showing me that. I’ll see you on Thursday.” Y/n mumbles awkwardly before walking off down the hall.

THURSDAY - 8 DAYS TILL PROM:

With prom just over a week away, Y/n can feel their plans of getting Sunoo kicked out slowly start to slip through their fingers. Turns out, trying to get Sunoo in trouble whilst staying out of trouble themself is a difficult task. It’s not like they can just start an argument like usual, and Sunoo’s unfortunately not the type of person to easily fall for sabotage.

“Hey trouble!” Minho exclaims as the two walk into the community centre. “Are you ever gonna stop calling us that?” Sunoo asks, causing Minho to laugh at the slight pout on his lips. “Stop breaking Lego sets and maybe I will.” He teases. The two teens visibly tense at his words, causing Minho to only laugh harder. “I’m just messing with you, shit happens. But do that in my department and neither of you will reach adulthood.”

He’s joking. It’s a joke. But the downright evil smirk on his lips almost makes it seem like it’s not…

“Anyway, this week is your last week in the kid’s section so try to make the most of it. We’ll rotate you every two weeks so you get used to all of the departments, then you can pick which one to volunteer in for the rest of the program.” Minho explains. “Oh! And before I forget!” He adds, aggressively wheeling his chair towards a cabinet - pulling something out of one of the drawers before wheeling back to the two.

“Your very own name badges! I didn’t draw anything on them since we don’t know what departments you’ll be in but we can always add to them later.” Minho says, handing a name badge to each of the students. “The drawing is for the different departments? I just thought you really liked cats.” Sunoo shrugged. “While that’s also true, they have a professional meaning too. Cat because I run the pet department.” Minho states. “But don’t you also run the clothes department?” Y/n asks, causing Minho to sigh. “That’s just temporary. Used to be run by this dude called Jay but he… took an early flight. If you get what I mean.”

“He means an actual flight.” A voice interrupts the conversation. The three turn around to see Seonghwa standing in the doorway. “Jay went back to America to be with his family. You really need to stop telling people he died, dude.” Seonghwa clarifies, earning an eye roll from Minho. “He’s dead to me.” Minho mumbles, causing Seonghwa to scoff. “Anyway, I’ll get these two out of your hair. That lady from Goodwill is supposed to be dropping stuff off in an hour so try not to ignore her when she gets here.” Seonghwa says. Minho waves him off nonchalantly before going back to whatever it is he does on his computer.

As the three walk back towards the storage area, Sunoo takes note of the little drawing of a lego block on Seonghwa’s name tag. He nudges Y/n gently - subtly pointing it out to them, earning a gentle smile and quiet giggle in return.

“Since you’ve already mastered packing boxes, I figure I’d let you unload and organize today. All these boxes came from a delivery truck yesterday. You’ve just got to unpack them and put them on the right shelves. Easy?” Seonghwa asks, earning affirmed nods from the two. “Great, if the three of us work hard it should only take us an hour or two. Then we can go over some stock checks and maybe do some more packing if there’s time.”

There's not a lot to argue about when you're busy working. Especially when the two are working with Seonghwa - someone they absolutely don't want to annoy. But it's a weird feeling for Y/n, practically spending hours on end with Sunoo yet not even muttering an insult.

“Okay, that’s us.” Seonghwa announces suddenly, causing the two students to look up at him confused. “But we still have a few orders to pack?” Y/n questions, causing Seonghwa to wave them off. “I’ll finish these later - we get in trouble for keeping you after hours.”

The two collect their things and go to leave but get stopped by Minho and Beomgyu, who are chatting about something in the reception area. “Woah woah, where are you two running off to?” Minho asks. “Uh… home?” Y/n asks, causing Minho to narrow his eyes at them. “You got a ride?” He asks accusingly. “I drove.” Sunoo nods, before the attention shifts to Y/n. “Oh, uh I caught the bus.” Y/n admits. Minho sighs at their words, rummaging through one of his desk draws before pulling out a set of keys.

“Beomgyu will drop you off.” He says, placing the keys in Beomgyu’s hands. “Have you seen the state my department is in? I don’t have time to play uber driver.” Beomgyu argues. “So you’d prefer our little Y/n here to catch the bus at this time of night?” Minho argues. “Why don’t you drop them off?” Beomgyu asks, placing the keys back in Minho’s hand. “I’ve got a very important business call and Seonghwa will kick my ass if I miss it.” Minho shrugs.

“Well, I’m sure Sunoo can drop them off.” Beomgyu suggests, turning his attention back to Sunoo. “Uh… I guess I could-” “-Really, it’s fine. It’s only like a 10 minute bus ride.” Y/n clarifies,  earning a death glare from both Minho and Beomgyu. 

“Y/n, if you get on that bus and get kidnapped and murdered, I will personally study witchcraft and bring you back to life just to kill you again myself.” Y/n’s eyes widen at Minho’s words, causing Beomgyu to awkwardly chuckle. “What he means is, we don’t feel comfortable with you taking the bus alone and strongly advise you to get a ride with Sunoo.” Beomgyu reasons.

The thought of spending any amount of time alone with Sunoo makes Y/n want to pull the hair out of their scalp. But they suppose it is better than potentially getting kidnapped. And Minho and Beomgyu don’t seem like the type of people to budge on this sort of thing. So Y/n reluctantly agrees, and Minho makes sure to walk the two to the carpark and personally watch them drive away - for extra precautions.

The car ride is silent and awkward. Despite the lack of arguing that has been going on between the two, it is blatantly obvious that there is still a massive wall placed between them.

Sunoo doesn’t know what to do to break the tension. Does he just let the two sit in silence? Does he try to talk about his day? Does he turn the radio on? Deciding a conversation is probably the best way to go, he lets out a shaky breath before mumbling:

“So, how are you liking the community centre?”

With the silence that follows his words, he almost thinks that Y/n didn’t hear him. Either that, or they hate him so much that they’d rather ignore him than have one conversation. Considering it’s dead silent, the latter unfortunately seems like the more likely option. Sunoo’s thoughts however, are cut short when Y/n replies:

“It’s more fun than I thought it would be… and the guys are really nice.” Sunoo nods at their words, letting out a small hum of agreement. “I was a little scared of Minho at first.” He admits, his attempt at potentially lightening the mood successfully landing, as Y/n lets out a small, breathy laugh.

"Yeah… I don't think I've heard someone affectionately threaten murder so much before." Y/n jokes. They're still turned away from Sunoo, opting to stare out the window in order to avoid looking at him. But at least they're joking now. It's progress.

"What happened to your car, by the way?" Sunoo asks curiously. Y/n sends him a confused look, causing him to elaborate. "I mean… don't you usually drive Intak to school everyday? Why didn't you drive here?"

Y/n let's out a scoff, looking back out the window. "The idiot tried to cook a pizza on the dashboard. Some bullshit about it being the hottest day of the year. He saw it on tiktok." Sunoo's face scrunches up, mumbling a small ew. "Apparently it'll take a while to clean, too. I think melted cheese got into the radio or something." Y/n shrugs.

"Does that mean you'll need a ride on Sunday too?" Sunoo asks without thinking. He internally face-palms as Y/n visibly tenses up at his words. God, why does he have to be so stupid?

"Uh… Intak should be free on Sunday…" Y/n mumbles. Sunoo has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. A habit, he likes to claim - opting to ignore the tiny amount of jealousy boiling in the pit of his stomach at the mention of the other man's name. Of course Intak would be the one to take them. The two are practically joined at the hip.

The car is silent for the rest of the drive, with the two only mumbling short goodbyes as Sunoo pulls up to Y/n's house. He chooses to stay, watching as they walk up the driveway and into the building. Y/n doesn't look back.

SUNDAY - 5 DAYS TILL PROM:

“Oh, how's the plan going?” Intak asks suddenly, as he pulls into the community centre parking lot. "Huh?" Y/n asks confused - causing Intak to deadpan at them. "Your whole thing of getting Sunoo to drop out of being prom king. It's on Friday." He clarifies.

Oh right. That plan. Y/n honestly forgot all about it, especially after the awkward interaction they had in Sunoo's car on Thursday.

"I haven't made much progress." Y/n sighs. "Because you're making progress in other areas?" Intak asks, a small smirk spreading across his face. "Don't think I haven't noticed the tension at school, and different from the old tension." He adds, earning an eye roll from Y/n. "I think you need to get your eyes checked." Y/n retorts, ruffling Intak's hair before grabbing their stuff and getting out of the car.

"You're picking me up tonight, right?" Y/n asks. "No, I'm gonna abandon you." Intak deadpans. Y/n gives him an annoyed look, making him laugh. "I'll text you when I get here." He says, causing Y/n to wave him off. "No need, I can spot your shitty car from a mile away." Intak goes to reply but Y/n shuts the car door- making sure to slam it for added effect.

As Intak goes to drive off, he winds down his window. "Have a fun day at work my Pookie Pie!! I love you." He calls, blowing a dramatic kiss to add some flare. Y/n rolls their eyes, flipping him off before entering the building.

Sunoo is already there, signing in at the front desk with Minho and Seonghwa. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend, Y/n." Seonghwa says, earning a scoff from Sunoo. "Yeah, a shitty one. Where was he the other night?" Minho grumbles. "He was busy with soccer practice. And uh… he's not my boyfriend." Y/n says, awkwardly scratching the back of their neck. "Might as well be." Sunoo mumbles bitterly, his comment not going unnoticed by Minho and Seonghwa, who both mumble short apologies for the mistake.

The two share a knowing look before Seonghwa claps his hands, gaining the attention of the two teens. "Right, since today is your last day in my department we'll just focus on practising what you already know. And later on, Beomgyu will give you a tour of his department so you can get straight into things next week."

Minho watches as Seonghwa gets the two to work, immediately going to find Beomgyu and explain to him what the heck just happened.

There is something wrong with Sunoo - that much is clear. He and Y/n aren’t friends of course, but there hasn’t been this much tension between the two since they started volunteering. Y/n doesn’t understand what went wrong?

As Sunoo ignores their question for the umpteenth time, Y/n finally feels themself snap. They grab the box of toys out of his hand, shoving it back on the shelf before crossing their arms across their chest - effectively cornering him in the storage room.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/n whisper-yells, not wanting to gain the attention of Seonghwa. “What’s wrong with me? You just ripped a box out of my hands?” Sunoo rolls his eyes. “Because you’re ignoring me!”

It’s stupid, Y/n knows. They’ve spent their entire high school career wishing for the day that Sunoo would start ignoring them. But now that it’s here, they hate it.

“And why do you care? We aren’t friends, Y/n. Even if I try to talk to you, you just go right back to running off with Intak every chance you get.”

And then it clicks. Everything always goes back to Intak.

“Oh my god, Sunoo. This is all about Intak? He’s my best friend, dumbass. And your stupid grudge with him doesn’t change that.” Y/n is fuming, and their volume is no longer at the front of their mind. Sunoo scoffs, pushing past Y/n and picking up the box once again. “I think you’re the dumbass, Y/n. Because everyone but you can tell that you and Intak are not best friends.”

Before he can get back to work however, Y/n catches up and shoves his shoulder - causing the box of toys to fall to the floor. “You’re a fucking hypocrite, you know that?” Y/n scowls, earning another eye roll from Sunoo. “I’m not the one in love with my best friend.” “People can be just friends, Sunoo! You of all people should know that!”

Y/n knows they are yelling, but they don't really care. In fact, they hope that the entire building can hear every word they’re saying; maybe then Sunoo will understand how ridiculous he is being. Even if they were in love with Intak, which is so far from the truth, what the hell does it matter to Kim Sunoo?

“No one says shit about you and Kazuha. Or you and Yuna. How is this any different? Do you get like this when they talk to other people, or am I just special?”

Of course you’re special Sunoo wants to scream. But he holds back - knowing better than to dump all his emotions onto Y/n. Especially now that they’re this worked up.

“Are you two finished?” A calm voice breaks through the tension, and both teens snap their heads to look at the figure. Seonghwa stands leaning against the doorway, his face expressionless as he looks at the two.

It’s as if they’d seen a ghost, and Seonghwa has to hold back his laugh at this. Remembering that he is, in fact the grown up in this situation - he takes a deep breath before ushering towards his office. “Come on, let’s all have a little chat, shall we?”

Seonghwa is scary when he’s mad. Minho and Beomgyu would be too, if they weren’t spending their time trying to hold back their giggles. They can’t help it though - not with Y/n and Sunoo sitting there like two children being scolded by their parents.

“I have tried my best to not… interfere with the relationship between you two. Simply because it is none of my business. But when you are in our building, you must obey our standards, and whatever that was back there is certainly not the type of behaviour we like to see.” Seonghwa states, his voice clear and stern. “Isn’t that right, guys?” He adds, turning to the other two adults in the room - who clearly were not paying attention.

“Uh… yeah.” Beomgyu replies, his voice cracking slightly. This finally sets Minho off, his fit of laughter soon turning into a safety hazard as he begins to choke on his own saliva. Seonghwa can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips, watching in mild disappointment as Beomgyu pats Minho’s back in an attempt to help clear his throat.

“Anyway, we think it will be best to separate the two of you for a little bit, until the hostility goes down. Sunoo, you’ll spend the rest of the day with Minho and Y/n, you’re with Beomgyu. I’ll continue where you left off in kids.” Seonghwa says.

“Wait, so you can’t deal with them so you just pass them onto us?” Beomgyu asks, offended. “Be grateful you’re not getting both of them.” Minho rolls his eyes, letting out a yelp as Beomgyu pinches his side.

It’s weird to see them talk so openly about the two, as if they aren’t sitting in the very same room. Y/n can’t bring themself to look away from Seonghwa, a strong sense of guilt building up in the pit of their stomach. He looks stressed, and Y/n can’t shake the feeling that they’re a major factor.

“Well… is there anything you two would like to say before I send you off?” Seonghwa asks, the attention in the room turning back towards the two teens. Y/n gulps under the gaze, glancing at Sunoo from the corner of their eye - who is avoiding eye contact all together. The two mumble quiet apologies, which almost go unnoticed by the others. Seonghwa sighs once more, gesturing for everyone to leave his office.

MONDAY - 4 DAYS TILL PROM:

“You look like someone died.” Kazuha states, dropping her food tray on the table and effectively snapping Sunoo out of his thoughts. “His relationship with Y/n did.” Yuna snickers, letting out a shriek as Sunoo’s empty milk carton flies towards her head. “Resorting to violence, now? No wonder Y/n doesn’t like you.” Yuna teases, throwing the milk carton back towards him.

“Wait, what happened with Y/n?” Kazuha asks. Sunoo sighs in response, picking at his food. “Nothing, I just fucked everything up… like always.” The response earns some eye rolls from the girls. “Stop acting like a pick me and explain what happened. Or I’ll go ask Y/n myself.” Kazuha threatens, although her words are all bluff.

Sunoo lets out another sigh, deciding there’s no use trying to argue with his friends. “I got jealous of Intak and said some… things. Y/n got mad, for obvious reasons and now we’re not talking.” He doesn’t even need to look up at his friends to tell that they are rolling their eyes at him.

“You are one of the dumbest people alive.” Yuna scoffs. “I know.” Sunoo whines, resting his head in his hands. “What did you actually say to Y/n?” Kazuha sighs, mentally putting on her couples counsellor hat. Sunoo hesitates, knowing he’s about to get ripped into by the girls. “I said that there’s no point in us being friends if they’re just going to run off with Intak every chance they get… and that it’s obvious their relationship is more than that.”

The table is silent for a few moments as Sunoo’s words set in. “You are the reason I hate men.” Yuna groans. “No literally, do you realise how hypocritical that is?” Kazuha asks. “Obviously but I was angry and just said whatever came to mind.” Sunoo frowns.

The girls give each other a look before turning back to Sunoo, who continues to wallow in his self-pity. Sighing, Kazuha moves to sit next to him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Maybe it’s time to be honest and tell Y/n how you really feel about them.” She says, causing Sunoo’s head to shoot up from it’s position on the table. “Be honest?” He asks with wide eyes. “Yes, Sunoo. If you tell Y/n that you said that because you were jealous and you like them then maybe they’ll actually give you a shot. It’s a much better plan than whatever the hell you’ve been doing this entire time.” Yuna points out. “And if they reject you, at least you tried.” Kazuha attempts to reassure, only to be met with glares from her two friends. “Way to boost my confidence.” Sunoo mumbles, picking up a spoonful of his lunch.

THURSDAY - 1 DAY TILL PROM:

“So… I heard you’ve got prom tomorrow?” Beomgyu asks, trying to break the ice. He hasn’t been alone with Y/n before so he’s not entirely sure what to say. Judging by Y/n’s groan at his words - he definitely said the wrong thing.

“Not looking forward to it?” He adds. “Since Sunoo will be there, no, I’m not.” Y/n mumbles, trying to turn their attention to the box of cans they are currently unpacking. They have nothing against Beomgyu, he’s sweet and all but god, does he not know how to take a hint. 

“What happened between you two, by the way? I know you never got along but something must’ve happened to cause such a fight.” Beomgyu pries. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now.” Y/n sighs. Being met with silence, they think that Beomgyu has finally given up. Until he speaks again:

“You know, I heard that hating someone uses almost as much passion as loving them.”

This causes Y/n to choke on the air in their lungs, looking at Beomgyu with wide eyes. “I’m not lying! Hate sex is apparently really good… not that I would know, of course.” Y/n chooses not to pry at Beomgyu’s blatant confession and instead raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you really recommending hate sex to a highschooler?” They ask, causing Beomgyu to wave them off nonchalantly. “It’s an example, Y/nnie. I’m just saying that hate can be a confusing emotion. Sometimes you think you hate someone, when really you like them and just don’t know how to express it.” “That sounds pretty toxic.” Beomgyu waves them off again. “Just trust me. I know a lot about this stuff.”

“So… how are things going with Y/n?” Minho asks, his sudden words causing Sunoo to look at him with wide eyes. “I… huh?” Sunoo asks, confused. Minho rolls his eyes at this. “I’m not an idiot, I see the way you look at them. And judging by the way they treat you, they do not feel the same. So what’s the plan?”

Sunoo is overwhelmed by the sudden topic. “Uh… give up and go home?” He mumbles. This was not the answer that Minho wanted, judging by the look on his face. “I would slap you right now if Seonghwa wouldn’t fire me for it.” Minho threatens. “Listen, as someone who is basically an expert at this whole hate to love thing - I’m going to give you some advice.” He continues, placing a hand on Sunoo’s shoulder. 

“You need to be obvious enough with the flirting that they can pick up on it but subtle enough that they think you’re just trying to annoy them. Then, when the tension gets high enough, you go full on flirt-mode. Catch them by surprise and reveal your feelings while their guard is down. And if you’re too scared to talk, just kiss them. Works like a charm.”

Sunoo looks at him skeptically, causing Minho to roll his eyes. “You think I’m joking? Beomgyu would tell you the same thing.” His words are very clearly alluding to something but Sunoo chooses to ignore them. “What if they just end up hating me even more?” He asks - his words causing Minho to let out an annoyed groan. “Then you suck it up and move on. If you open up about your feelings and they don’t accept it, then they’re not the right person for you. Was I this clueless when I was a teenager?” Noticing Sunoo’s hesitation, Minho continues. “Look, you’re a nice guy and you seem to really care about Y/n. I’m sure they only hate you because of some petty bullshit and not because you’re a terrible person. Have confidence in yourself!”

Sunoo nods affirmingly at Minho’s words. Have confidence in yourself.

FRIDAY - PROM NIGHT:

“Can I look yet?”

“No.”

“How about now?”

“Still no.”

“...”

“Intak, I swear to god, if you open your damn eyes…”

“I won’t!”

Y/n rolls their eyes at their best friend, looking themself over once more in the mirror. Once they’re happy with the completed outfit, they turn towards Intak - who’s stood in the middle of their bedroom with his hands covering his eyes.

“Okay… you can look now.”

As soon as the words leave Y/n’s lips, Intak’s hands are flying away from his face. His eyes fall on Y/n’s outfit as they stand awkwardly in front of him. “Woah… is it wrong for me to say you look hot?” Intak laughs, letting out a scream when Y/n hits his shoulder. “Hey! Don’t crinkle the suit!” He whines, earning an eye roll from Y/n. “Then don’t say cringy shit.”

“I’m serious though, you look great. Everyone’s gonna go crazy when they see you.” Intak compliments, causing Y/n to scoff. “Yeah, right. If I look so good, why am I taking you as my date?” Intak frowns at this. “You’re the one who turned down my idea of you and Sunoo going together.” He points out. “Yeah, cause that would literally be considered a form of torture.” Now it’s Intak’s turn to roll his eyes at Y/n’s exaggeration. “You’re just pissed that you guys fought. It would’ve been a great way to make up, you know?”

“Can we not talk about Sunoo right now?” Y/n asks, almost desperately. Intak narrows his eyes for a moment before sighing. “Fine. But as soon as this thing is over, you’re explaining what the hell happened with you two.”

Prom - the supposed “best night” of a high schooler’s life. The glitz and the glam. Food, drinks, music. It’s everything a teenager could wish for.

As Y/n and Intak walk into the school gym, they look around in awe at the decor. “You know, this turned out a lot better than I expected.” Y/n comments, causing Intak to nod in agreement. “I know, right? It barely smells like feet in here.” He jokes, letting out a pained noise when Y/n jabs him in the side. “So… are we going to the dancefloor first or the snack table?” Intak asks, causing Y/n to look at him with a blank expression. “Snack table it is.” He adds, laughing as Y/n aggressively pulls him towards the assortment of foods.

“I’m just gonna head to the bathroom!” Y/n mumbles, their voice slightly muffled due to the music. Intak sends them a thumbs up, letting them know he got the message. After a few moments, Intak feels a sudden presence behind him and turns around to see Sunoo standing there.

“Looking for Y/n?” He asks, causing Sunoo’s eyes to widen slightly. “Uh… yeah. I thought they’d be with you.” He mumbles. “Bathroom.” Intak shrugs, earning a slight nod from Sunoo. Intak gestures for him to take a seat and Sunoo hesitates for a moment before sitting down.

“How did you know I was looking for Y/n?” Sunoo asks, causing Intak to shrug. “Well, you weren’t coming to hang out with me.” He jokes, earning an awkward laugh from Sunoo. “Are you still upset about… you know?” Sunoo asks. “Oh, god no. I got over that like, freshman year.” Intak says, waving him off. “Oh. Okay, well… I feel like I should apologise anyway. I wasn’t like… trying to compete with you or anything.” Sunoo says, causing Intak to laugh. “It’s all good, like I said, I forgave you ages ago. Y/n on the other hand…” Intak trails off, causing Sunoo’s eyes to widen.

Everything finally seems to fall into place. Y/n hates Sunoo because of what happened with him and Intak? He supposes it does make sense; they are best friends after all. But if Intak is over it, then why isn’t Y/n?

“Can I be honest about something?” Sunoo asks, causing Intak to look at him confused. “As long as you don’t confess your undying love for me. You’re cute but not really my type.” He jokes, making Sunoo laugh so hard he almost falls out of his chair. “Trust me, you’re not my type either.” He responds, causing Intak to scoff in feigned offence. “You know what? Maybe I do still hate you.” Intak pouts. He keeps the act up for a few moments before returning back to his smiley self, gesturing for Sunoo to go on.

“This is gonna sound really weird but… whenever I see you and Y/n, I can’t help but feel jealous. Like, you guys are so in tune with each other and… you’re close with them in a way that I can only dream of. I don’t know… guess it made me unknowingly hate you which probably added to why Y/n hates me.” Sunoo rants. Intak’s face doesn’t give much away, as he stares forward with furrowed brows. For a moment, Sunoo thinks he’s said something wrong.

“Y/n’s a complicated person. They like it when people are open and honest, but hate being open and honest themself. They’re also super stubborn… you probably already know that. They hate admitting when they’re wrong but really admire it when others do.” Intak says. Sunoo looks at him confused, not entirely sure what he’s trying to say. 

“Y/n’s basically a hypocrite, who looks for people that do and say the things they refuse to. That’s why we’re so close, we balance each other out. You, however, are more like Y/n, which is why I think you guys butt heads. You both want to be more open but your stubbornness gets in the way and you argue. I think that’s the difference between me with Y/n and you with Y/n.” Intak points out.

Sunoo’s face screws up at Intak’s words as he lets out a dry laugh. “Doesn’t sound like me and Y/n are a good match, then.” He mumbles. “I think you can understand Y/n a lot better than I do. Sometimes they do things and I just don’t get why. But if you and Y/n are going to be friends… or more, one of you will have to adjust a little. And judging by this conversation we’re having, it looks like you’re trying to.” Intak says, a genuine smile on his lips.

Sunoo is in awe. He’s never felt so called out yet reassured at the same time. “Where the hell did you learn to give advice like that?” He asks, shocked. Intak laughs slightly, scratching the back of his neck. “I watch a lot of couples therapy programs. It’s a guilty pleasure.” He mumbles. Just as Sunoo is about to ask what shows, the two are interrupted by Intak’s phone going off. He looks at the screen to see Y/n calling, immediately answering and putting them on speaker.

“Intak! You have to come outside and see this dog. It’s wearing a little bow tie!” Y/n exclaims, happily. “Outside? I thought you were in the bathroom?” Intak asks. “I move quickly. Now hurry up!” Y/n ushers, continuing to rave on about the dog as Intak waves goodbye to Sunoo.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if we could have you all to the dance floor to announce this year’s Prom King and Queen.”

Y/n is probably feeling more nervous than Intak - judging by the way they’re squeezing his hand. “I think you’re gonna break my knuckles.” Intak leans down to whisper, causing Y/n to roll their eyes. “Shut up.” They whisper back.

Has the principal's intro speech always been this long? No one asked about how proud you are of all the contestants, they just want to hear who won. After what feels like literal hours of talking, the drumroll begins to play throughout the gym.

“And the winner of Be Lift High’s Prom King is…”

.

.

.

.

.

“Hwang Intak!”

Y/n is probably more excited than Intak, too - judging by the way they practically scream in his ear. Intak grins widely as Y/n shakes him back and forth, receiving a few pats on the back and whoops from the crowd around them. Snapping out of his shock, Intak gently pulls away from Y/n’s grip and walks up to the stage to be crowned.

Despite Intak walking away, Y/n immediately feels another presence beside them. They turn to see Sunoo standing there, watching fondly as Intak accepts the crown. Y/n attempts to ignore him, turning their attention back to Intak. Despite this, Sunoo had already felt Y/n’s eyes on him and gently nudges their side to get their attention.

“He looks really happy.” Sunoo points out. His statement earns an eye roll from Y/n, who immediately turns to him with a smirk. “Jealous you didn’t win?” They asks snarkily, causing Sunoo to laugh slightly. It’s not the sarcastic laugh he usually does around Y/n. It’s a small, genuine laugh. “No, he deserves it.” Sunoo smiles before turning his attention back to the stage, where Intak is about to start his acceptance speech.

The smirk on Yn’s face immediately drops as they take in Sunoo’s words. Sure, he doesn’t have to be jealous… but Y/n at least expected a snarky comeback. Why is he smiling like he and Intak are friends?

“You look really good by the way.” Sunoo says, not taking his eyes off the stage. Y/n immediately scans his face for any signs of sarcasm or teasing. None. Awkwardly coughing, Y/n turns away from Sunoo and back towards the stage. They mumble a quiet shut up but the subtle blush that spreads across their cheeks shows they didn’t hate the compliment.

“And we’ll now announce Be Lift High’s Prom Queen…. Nakamura Kazuha!”

“Fuck yeah!” Yuna screams, immediately covering her mouth when she realised the rest of the crowd hadn’t started yet. She mumbles a few apologies before pushing Kazuha towards the stage.

With Kazuha now joining Intak on the stage, Yuna squeezes herself between Sunoo and Y/n - slinging her arms around both of their shoulders. “Do you think anyone heard me swear?” She jokes, causing Sunoo and Y/n to laugh. “Judging by the way Mr Kim is currently glaring into our souls, I’d say yeah.” Sunoo says.

The trio watch in amusement as Intak shuffles aside for Kazuha to give her speech, her sending him an awkward yet genuine smile. “They’re kinda cute, don’t you think?” Yuna asks, causing Y/n to scoff. “Oh please, she’s way too good for him.” They laugh. “I don’t know, Zuha’s taste in guys is…” Sunoo trails off. “Questionable.” Yuna finishes for him. Y/n shoots the two a confused look but chooses not to ask further questions.

“So, what were you and Sunoo talking about when I was on stage?” Intak asks as he and Y/n slow dance together. “Oh god, don’t remind me. Weirdest conversation we’ve ever had.” Y/n rolls their eyes, causing Intak’s to lighten up with interest. “Come on, spill the tea.” He says, laughing as Y/n physically cringes at his choice of words.

“I don’t know, it was just weird. Like, he was saying how you deserved to win and when I tried to tease him about it, he just didn’t react. And then he said I looked good… without being sarcastic!” Y/n rants, earning an eye roll from Intak. “You call that a weird conversation?” He asks. “Well yeah, it is for people who hate each other.” Y/n huffs.

“Y/n… you don’t seriously think Sunoo hates you, do you?” Intak’s question causes Y/n to look up at him, a confused expression painted across their face. “Uh… have you seen the way he acts around me? We’re like… constantly at each other’s throats.” Y/n points out. “Yeah, and who starts almost all of those arguments?” Intak asks.

Y/n falls silent for a moment as they think back to all their arguments with Sunoo. Sure… they’re often the one that takes it from teasing to yelling but… that doesn’t make Sunoo completely innocent.

“I think you should apologise to him.” Y/n’s eyes practically fall out of their skull as the words slip past Intak’s lips. “I think that’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.” Intak raises a brow at Y/n, almost in a challenging way. “Y/n… you know how much I love you but as your best friend, it’s my job to tell you when you’re being stupid… and this whole beef you’ve got with Sunoo is stupid… maybe if you start seeing him as a person rather than as some annoyance in your life, you’ll start to recognise that.” Intak says, finally, before dropping the topic.

Y/n pouts slightly as they mull over Intak’s words over and over again… he’s right. Y/n hates it when he’s right.

THURSDAY - 6 DAYS AFTER PROM:

I think you should apologise to him.

Those words have been repeating in Y/n’s brain all week. It’s very rare for a piece of Intak’s advice to stick with them for this long - usually he just says a few quotes he stole from Twitter and hopes it does the trick. It doesn’t. 

Walking into the community centre, Y/n is surprised to see an unknown man sitting behind the desk instead of the usual Minho. As soon as he hears the door open, the man looks up and sends a small smile to Y/n.

“Uh… hi?” Y/n asks, walking up to the desk, puzzled. “Hey. You’re one of the volunteers, right? Y/n?” The man asks, causing Y/n to nod quietly. Their eyes quickly flicker down to his nametag - reading the name Jay along with a small drawing of some shoes. Jay? As in, the guy who used to work here?

“I thought you were in America?” Y/n asks, causing Jay’s eyes to widen slightly. “Oh… I was, yeah. But now I’m back.” He shrugs, passing Y/n the name tag box. Their eyebrows furrow slightly when they see that both Minho and Beomgyu’s name tags are still there. Just as they’re about to ask, they get interrupted by the door opening.

“Sorry I’m late, the coach tried to have an extra cheer practice.” Sunoo says as he walks into the building. He stops in his tracks when he spots Jay behind the desk. “Who are you?” He asks, bluntly. “Jay, and you must be Sunoo.” Jay says. Sunoo glances at Y/n, as if to ask what is happening. Y/n just offers a confused shrug back.

“Okay, as you can probably tell, I’m not Minho. Something happened and he had to take the day off which means, obviously, Beomgyu had too as well.” Jay says. Y/n and Sunoo aren’t sure why that’s obvious but they choose not to question it. “Because we’re down two people, things are going to look a bit different today. We can’t have you both in departments by yourself because, no offence but you’re not fully trusted to be left alone yet. Seonghwa’s still in kids, but he’ll also be checking on you two in grocery. I’ll take care of clothes and pets myself.” Jay says, earning affirmative nods from Sunoo and Y/n. “Cool, Beomgyu should’ve left you a note of what he wants done today but if you need any help, just ask me or Seonghwa.”

Beomgyu’s “note” turned out to be the computer password so they could access todays food pack orders along with the words “fuck things up and I’ll kill you” scribbled at the bottom. Not extremely helpful but Y/n expected nothing less.

“So we just… put the stuff on the list in a box?” Sunoo asks, making Y/n realise that he hasn’t actually worked in grocery yet. “Oh… yeah. We print off the order ticket, grab everything that's on it and put them in a box, stick the ticket on the top and then tick the packed button on the computer… it’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it, and everything’s labelled so you shouldn’t have any trouble.” Y/n rambles, quickly demonstrating how things work.

The two quickly get to work, in complete silence. It’s a little awkward. This is the first time Y/n has actually seen Sunoo since prom, other than quickly passing each other in the halls, and the first time that they’ve worked with him in the community centre since their fight.

I think you should apologise to him.

Groaning slightly, Y/n turns their attention back to the order they’re currently working on. The last thing they need right now is Intak’s stupid face in their brain, trying to convince them to apologise.

“Hey, Y/n? Can you come check this for me?” Sunoo suddenly calls, snapping Y/n out of their thoughts. “Uh... yeah, one sec.” Y/n replies, putting the finishing touches on their order before walking over to where Sunoo is working.

They find him in the produce section, looking puzzled. “Everything okay?” Y/n asks, causing Sunoo to jump slightly at their sudden presence. “Oranges and mandarins are the same thing, right?” Sunoo asks, causing Y/n to giggle slightly. “Um… no. Mandarins are little and come in pieces that you peel off, oranges are big and you need to cut them.” Y/n says, causing Sunoo to nod. “We only have oranges, then,” He says, turning to look at Y/n. “And I need mandarins.”

Sighing, Y/n does a quick scan around the produce section. There are in fact, no mandarins. “We’ll have to check the back storage.” Y/n says, walking towards the door to find Seonghwa. “You coming? I can’t carry a bulk box of fruit by myself.” Y/n says, causing Sunoo to immediately follow them.

Once the two grab the key from Seonghwa, they make their way to the back storage room, where all the unneeded products are kept. It’s weird being in here again. Last time the two were in this room, they were screaming at each other. Walking past the kids and pet sections, they finally find themselves in the grocery area.

“Over there.” Y/n points in the direction of the fruits, going to walk towards them. They realise that Sunoo is oddly quiet and turn around to look at him. “Are you okay?” Y/n asks. It’s silent for a few more moments before Sunoo blurts out two words Y/n never thought they’d hear him say.

“I’m sorry.”

Y/n doesn’t know how to respond. It seems that even Sunoo is a little taken aback by his words, judging by his wide-eyed expression. “Um… what?” Y/n laughs awkwardly. Where was this coming from?

“I’m sorry for… everything, really. I’ve been giving you hell for years for basically nothing. I was just jealous of you and Intak and I took it out on you when I should’ve just-” “-Are you kidding me?” Y/n asks suddenly, interrupting Sunoo’s words. “I’ve been thinking about apologising to you all week and you beat me to it?” They continue, causing Sunoo to look at them confused. “It’s not a competition…” Sunoo laughs awkwardly. “But I’ve hated you for years because of something you did unknowingly as a kid… and you didn’t even do it to me! Why the hell are you the one apologising?” Y/n asks, a small pout to their lips. Sunoo can’t help but look at them endearingly… are they really upset that he apologised before they could?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/n asks, causing Sunoo to laugh slightly. “Sorry, you’re just really cute.” He says, causing their eyes to widen. A pink blush immediately spreads across their cheeks, earning a slight smirk from Sunoo. “Shut up.” Y/n mumbles, avoiding eye contact. 

“Would you feel better if I took my apology back?” Sunoo asks, half jokingly. Y/n pauses to think for a moment before silently nodding, causing Sunoo to break out into a toothy grin. “Okay, then… I'll take it back.” He says, his words causing Y/n to look up at him again. They bite their lip nervously as he quietly waits for them to speak.

“Okay so like… I’m sorry for being a bitch and hating you for something you didn’t do. It was really childish of me and I hope that we can be friends… maybe.” Y/n rambles, their eyes nervously flickering from Sunoo’s to various parts of the room. Sunoo smiles at their nervousness, his heart swelling slightly at their words. “It’s okay… when I found out you didn’t like me I started purposefully annoying you. If you can’t tell, I think you’re cute when you’re mad.” Sunoo says, the pink blush on Y/n’s cheeks turning darker with each compliment. “Stop calling me that…” Y/n mumbles.

“You don’t like when I call you cute?”

“Hate it.”

“Your blush says otherwise, babe.”

“Shut up!”

“So… are you just gonna ignore the fact that I said I was jealous of you and Intak?” Sunoo asks, causing Y/n to look at him confused. “Why?” Y/n asks. “Because I like you and I hated that he was close with you in ways I couldn’t be… thought he had a better chance with you than I did.” Sunoo mumbles, causing Y/n to scoff slightly. “Oh please, Intak wouldn’t have a chance with me if he was the last man on earth.” Y/n says, choosing to ignore the part where Sunoo said he likes them.

“What about me?” Sunoo asks, stepping forward slightly to minimise the gap between them. “Uh… what about you?” Y/n asks, attempting to step back but getting stopped by the shelf behind them. “Would I have a chance?” Sunoo asks, continuing his steps until he is directly in front of Y/n, their back pressed up against the shelves. “Um… if you were the last man on earth, you mean? I guess, I don’t know. I don’t even think I’d survive long enough for us to be the last people on earth. Especially if it was like a zombie apocalypse or something, I’d probably die super… early.” Y/n rambles, the last words trailing off as Sunoo gently grips their chin, lifting it slightly so they’re making direct eye contact.

“I mean now, Y/n. Would I have a chance with you now?” Sunoo asks, his grip on Y/n’s chin stopping them from looking away. Y/n’s breath seems to get caught in their throat as they see Sunoo’s eyes flicker down to their lips. “I don’t know…” Y/n breathes out.

Their mind feels fuzzy. Up until about a week ago, they don’t think they’d ever had a positive thought about Sunoo. And now here they are, trapped between his body and a shelf, as he confesses that he likes them? Y/n has no idea how to process this new information.

“Are you guys okay in here?” A sudden voice calls out, causing Y/n to immediately push Sunoo away from them. They shut down the part of their brain that immediately misses his touch and peek behind the shelf to see Jay looking around the room for them. “We’re fine! Just took a while finding what we needed.” Sunoo calls out, going to grab one side of the mandarin crate. Taking note of Y/n’s slightly dazed expression, Sunoo can’t help but laugh slightly. “Actually, do you mind helping us carry this? Y/n’s a bit out of it.” Sunoo calls out again, sending a teasing wink to Y/n who immediately scowls at him. Guess that his feelings for them won’t change the constant teasing.

“I saw you drove today, your car’s fixed?” Sunoo asks as the two walk out of the community centre. “Yeah, it is. Which reminds me that I need to get Intak to pay me back.” Y/n says, taking a mental note. “Well, if you ever need a ride again, just know my passenger seat is always free for you.” Sunoo says, his words causing Y/n to blush slightly. They mumble a small thanks, causing Sunoo to smile endearingly. “Well, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Sunoo says, causing Y/n’s eyebrows to furrow. “School, babe.” Sunoo clarifies, making Y/n’s mouth fall into a small “oh”. Sunoo shakes his head with a gentle smile, ruffling Y/n’s hair affectionately. “Have a good night, Y/n.” He says before going to get into his car, waiting until Y/n has gotten in theirs and drives off before he leaves as well.

FRIDAY - 7 DAYS AFTER PROM:

“I told you so!”

Y/n reaches over to cover Intak’s mouth with their hand, shushing him as they look around the classroom. Thankfully, everyone else is busy with their own conversations to be listening in on theirs. Intak licks their hand, causing them to immediately pull away with a disgusted look. “You’re so gross.” Y/n mumbles, wiping their hand on Inak’s shirt sleeve. “I don’t care, you and Sunoo are getting together, I was finally right about something.” Intak teases, earning an eye roll from Y/n. “We’re not getting together, he likes me. There’s a difference.” “But you like him too!” Intak urges. “And how the hell do you know that?” Y/n asks, defensively. “Because we’re besties! I can basically read your mind at this point.” Y/n looks at him with a blank expression, clearly not believing his reasoning. “Plus you’re blushing, which is kind of a dead give away.”

Y/n throws their pen at Intak, who only pokes out his tongue in retaliation. He is right - they both know it. Which is what makes the whole situation more frustrating. Being confronted with the fact that you might like someone when you’ve spent years thinking you hate them is not a fun feeling. Y/n can’t help but think back to the conversation they had with Beomgyu last week. Sometimes you think you hate someone, when really you like them and just don’t know how to express it. God… did everyone see it but Y/n?

Obviously, they always knew that Sunoo was attractive (although they’d never admit it). And yeah, maybe a small part of them did secretly enjoy having Sunoo’s attention - good or bad. But does that really mean that they like him? Like, want to go on dates and hold hands and kiss and post cute couple pictures with cheesy captions to annoy their friends kind of like? Surely not…

…

Okay, maybe.

But liking Kim Sunoo and wanting to date Kim Sunoo are two completely different things. You can like someone and leave it at that - a hypothetical crush with no real drive to transition into an actual relationship. Just someone to watch from afar and dream about until you either get over them or fall for someone else. That is exactly what Y/n plans to do with this whole crush thing. Sunoo, unfortunately, is not making this easy.

“Y/n!”

The sudden call of their name causes Y/n to jump slightly. That doesn’t sound like Intak. And Y/n doesn’t speak to any other men at school because, why would they? Which means it has to be…

“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?” Sunoo asks once he’s finally caught up to Y/n. They look like a deer caught in headlights, looking directly into the eyes of the one person they’ve spent all day avoiding.

Y/n is almost too distracted by the situation to process the words coming out of Sunoo’s mouth. He’s been looking for them? That should not make their heart flutter the way that it does.

“Where have you been?” Sunoo asks, his follow-up question finally breaking through the thoughts that are overflowing Y/n’s brain. “Oh, you know… around.” Y/n attempts to play it off, aimlessly waving their hand to appear as nonchalant as possible. Sunoo doesn’t buy it for a second, looking at Y/n with raised eyebrows. “Okay… well, I was wondering if you were busy this afternoon?” Sunoo asks. “This afternoon? There’s a game on.” Y/n says, causing Sunoo to chuckle slightly. “I know. I’m a cheerleader, remember? I was meaning before the game.”

They always get paninis with Intak before his games - something he claims gives him good luck. Despite this, Y/n can practically hear Intak screaming at them to say no, they’re not busy, and they’d love to spend the afternoon with Sunoo. But some part of them is holding back, scared of getting too close to Sunoo.

Sunoo notices Y/n’s hesitation and his face falls slightly, though he immediately covers it with an understanding smile. “Intak?” He asks, already knowing the answer. Y/n nods slowly, an overwhelming feeling of guilt washing over them. Why did feelings have to be so confusing?

Sunoo goes to walk away but Y/n suddenly calls out, their voice leaving their body before they even have time to comprehend the words. “You can come,” Sunoo stops in his tracks, turning around to look at Y/n once more. “If you want.” They add.

It’s silent for a moment before Sunoo smiles - not the sad one from before, a genuine smile. “Sure… how about I bring Yuna and Kazhua, too?” He asks. Sunoo’s not an idiot, he can tell how uncomfortable Y/n is in his presence. If he wants things to work out with them, he needs to give them time to get comfortable. If that means bringing their entire friend group on what he wanted to be a date, then so be it.

“I’d like that.” Y/n smiles.

“So uh… where are we going?” Yuna asks, curiously. Her grip tightens on Kazuha’s arm as the trio walk down the street. “That cheap Italian place down by the library.” Sunoo says, his words immediately causing Kazuha’s face to screw up. “Who gets Itallian before a game? Isn’t that more of a post-game meal?” She asks. Sunoo shrugs. “Apparently Intak needs his good-luck panini before every game and I’m not really in the mood to argue with our star player.”

“He plays like that because of a panini?” Kazuha asks, shocked. “It’s not the panini, idiot. It’s the fact that it’s his lucky food… think of it like manifesting.” Yuna explains. “But with paninis.”

Thankfully, the restaurant isn’t too far away from the school. It’s likely why Y/n and Intak started going. As soon as the group walks up to the little building, squished between the public library and a laundromat, Sunoo realises that it’s not as bad as he thought. Freshly painted with what looks to be a handmade sign hung carefully above the door and intricately decorated on the interior.

Stepping inside, the group’s eyes immediately land on Y/n and Intak. They’re the only customers in the restaurant, so it’s impossible to miss Intak’s wide smile and over-exaggerated wave.

“Wait, this place is so cute!” Kazuha exclaims, immediately going to sit down with Y/n and Intak. “How long have you two been gatekeeping this?” She continues, pointing her finger accusingly between Y/n and Intak. Y/n immediately raises their hands in surrender. “Ask Intak, he’s the one who didn’t want anyone stealing his luck.”

Intak’s eyes widen at Y/n’s statement. “Hey! Don’t turn this on me!” He exclaims, his face heating up slightly as the group laughs. “It’s okay, the golden boy just didn’t want anyone stealing his precious spot. No biggie.” Yuna teases, patting Intak’s shoulder with feigned sympathy as she moves to sit down as well - pushing Sunoo to sit in the spot next to Y/n before sliding in after him.

Sunoo attempts to keep some distance between himself and Y/n so as to not make them uncomfortable. Yuna doesn’t seem to get the message though, sliding into the booth and pressing Sunoo right into Y/n’s personal bubble. They don’t seem to mind though - judging by the subtle blush creeping up their neck and gentle smile on their lips.

“Is now a bad time to say that I’ve never had a panini before?” Yuna asks. ‘Oh god, don’t make him start.” Y/n mumbles. Their words fall on deaf ears, as Intak begins to ramble about paninis and all the amazing combinations you can have. Y/n zones out of the conversation, aimlessly flicking through the menu instead. 

“What do you recommend?” Sunoo asks, quietly. Y/n looks up at him with a raised brow. “Don’t trust Intak’s recommendations?” Y/n asks, jokingly. Their words cause Sunoo to chuckle quietly. “More like, I want to have your favourite.” Sunoo mumbles, playfully winking when Y/n’s face flushes.

This is going to be a long night.

“Oh, shit. What time do we have to be there tonight?” Yuna asks, pulling out her phone to check the time. “Practice starts at 5, game at 6. I’ve only told you, like, 4 times today.” Sunoo says, a not-so-subtle roll of his eyes earning him a slap on the arm. “Thanks, Kim Sunoo. Where would I be without you?” Yuna replies snarkily. “Not the game, that’s for sure.”

“Are you coming early too, Y/n?” Kazuha asks, finishing off the last bite of her panini. “I always do. Intak forces me to watch him practice.” Y/n says. “It’s not forcing! You can say no…” Intak pouts. “If I say no you get like this, which is not as cute as you think it is.” Y/n laughs, causing Intak’s mouth to drop in offence. “I am so cute! You’re just blind, clearly.”

“Maybe this time you can watch our cheer practice, instead.” Yuna suggests, “I know a certain someone would love that.” She continues, a little quieter so only Y/n and Sunoo can hear her. Y/n’s face heats up at the implication behind Yuna’s words as Sunoo nudges her in the side, his face telling her to knock it off.

“Or just watch boring Intak, whatever you want.” She finishes with a shug. “Since when was it International Bully Intak Day?” Intak asks, sulkily taking a bite of his (third) panini.

Intak gets pouty when Y/n doesn’t pay attention during his practice and games. Y/n has made that mistake far too many times, and now makes sure to keep their eyes on the field at all times. Why is tonight so much more difficult? Kim Sunoo… that’s why…

Y/n never really watched the cheerleaders before. Like they said, Intak got pouty. But tonight, their gaze can’t help but slowly drift to where Sunoo stands. They jump slightly as Sunoo tosses one of the smaller girls in the air, lifting her up like she’s nothing and catching her with equal ease.

He must be pretty strong.

Y/n immediately shakes the thought out of their head, looking back at the field. The game has long started since now, the bleachers filling up with loud, enthusiastic supporters all there to watch their team win. Intak’s on fire, as usual. The crowd roars with every point he scores, expecting nothing less from their school’s star player.

As Y/n fixates their full attention onto their best friend, they hardly notice Sunoo walking over to where they’re sat. Sunoo smiles down at Y/n, finding their concentration cute before playfully ruffling their hair.

“So, we’re pretending you weren’t literally staring me down a minute ago?” He asks, his words and action causing Y/n’s attention to immediately flicker to him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/n mumbles, swatting his hand away before fixing their now ruined hair. “Course you don’t, babe.” Sunoo replies, messing up Y/n’s hair once more before taking a seat next to them.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the field… you know… cheering?” Y/n asks, trying to make it seem like they’re annoyed by his presence. Y/n’s never been an actor though and Sunoo can read right through them. “You expect me to cheer for the whole game? That’s so tiring.” Sunoo frowns. “I should get to have a good time, too.” He adds, sending a playful smile to Y/n.

That’s how Y/n and Sunoo ended up watching the game together. With every scored point, everyone around them got more enthusiastic - their excited movements pushing Y/n and Sunoo closer together. Neither of them minded, though.

Sunoo suddenly lets out a groan when he spots Yuna calling him back onto the field. “I have to go back.” He mumbles, looking at Y/n apologetically. “It’s okay… go do your thing.” Y/n smiles. Sunoo can’t help the way his smile mimics Y/n’s, even the tiniest bit of their happiness is contagious to him. God… they’re so pretty. Before he can even realise what he’s doing, Sunoo leans in to press a quick kiss against Y/n’s cheek, ruffling their hair once more as he stands before running back to the field, yelling about how he’ll “be back.”

Y/n sits there, stunned, for a moment. Did that really just happen? Did Sunoo just kiss them? They bring a hand up to gently press against the spot where Sunoo’s lips just were. The skin burns slightly at the touch, likely from the ever growing blush that seems to be constant whenever Sunoo’s around. It takes Y/n a handful of seconds to snap out of the fluttery trance Sunoo’s kiss put them in - and he didn’t even kiss them on the lips! This crush really is going to be the end of Y/n…

“WE WON!”

Intak’s yell could probably be heard from the other side of town. But Y/n doesn’t care, as they run happily into his open embrace. Every win for Intak is like the first; it’s only fair that Y/n matches his enthusiasm.

“You did so good, Takie.” Y/n says, giving Intak a loving squeeze before pulling away. Kazuha is next, running to give Intak a hug - much to the surprise of the rest of the group. “Guess we’re all hugging Intak.” Yuna shrugs, running up to him as well - making sure to grab Y/n on the way and pull them into the, now group hug.

Sunoo watches the group with an amused smile on his face. “Bring it in, bro.” Intak winks, making Sunoo laugh slightly. “Okay, bro.” Sunoo says teasingly, before joining the hug as well - making sure to take a position next to Y/n.

“Why are we hugging?” Y/n asks. “Because I did so amazingly that you guys just wanted to show how much you love me?” Intak asks, hopefully. “Whatever you say, buddy.” Yuna laughs.

Pulling away from the impromptu group hug, Y/n can’t help the way their eyes naturally drift to Sunoo, who was already looking at them. The rest of the group immediately notice their two friends, Yuna giving Kazuha a knowing nudge.

“Hey, Intak. Didn’t you need to show me and Yuna that… thing?” Kazuha asks, suspiciously. Intak’s face lights up at this. He loves this game. “Oh, that’s right! I almost forgot. I’ll go show you now. Just you, me and Yuna.” Intak says. Sunoo has to stop himself from physically face palming at the performance. “I think they get the hint.” Yuna laughs, grabbing the two by the arm and pulling them away from Y/n and Sunoo.

“Well that wasn’t suspicious at all.” Sunoo jokes. “What would he even have in his car to show them?” Y/n laughs, looking back in the direction the three went, only to spot them not-so-subtly crouched behind the bleachers. “They’re watching us.” Y/n mumbles. “Of course they are.”

Silence falls between the two as Sunoo appears to have a sudden wave of nerves wash over him. Y/n looks up at him with slight concern - Sunoo doesn’t normally get nervous. “Look… I just wanted to say that I had a really good time with you today… it’s nice to just hang out without working… or yelling at each other.” Sunoo starts, causing Y/n to laugh slightly. “We do yell at each other quite a bit.” They agree. “That’s not stopping, by the way. If you do dumb shit I will call you out on it.” Y/n playfully warns, causing Sunoo to laugh. “Oh, 100%. Just like how I’m going to keep purposefully getting on your nerves.” Sunoo teases.

Due to the conversation taking a playful turn, Sunoo’s nerves start to subside. “Look, I know this is all very sudden for you so I don’t expect an answer straight away but, I was wondering if you wanted to-” 

“-yes.”

Sunoo’s eye brows furrow slightly at Y/n cutting him off. “Would you let me say it?” He asks, teasingly, causing Y/n to laugh. “Sorry, I got excited… keep going.” Y/n urges him to continue, looking at him with a playful smile. “I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date… with me… and not our friends, this time.” Sunoo asks, smiling gently.

Y/n can’t stop the giddy feeling that’s building up in their stomach. It’s almost like they want to start jumping around, they’re so restless. Never in their entire life would they have thought that they would have these feelings about Kim Sunoo… guess the heart works in mysterious ways.

Y/n nods enthusiastically, jumping to pull Sunoo into a tight hug. “This is new.” Sunoo comments, hugging back nonetheless. “Sorry, I’m just weirdly excited and I didn’t know how to say it in words.” Y/n mumbles against Sunoo’s shoulder. “Don’t apologise… I could definitely get used to this.” Sunoo says, tightening his grip around Y/n’s waist.

The two stand there for a few seconds, trapped in their own little bubble. Their precious moment is soon interrupted by the hushed whispers of their friends, who still haven’t left their hiding spot. Sunoo pulls away with a groan, shooting a fake glare towards the others. “Okay… let’s go get those idiots.” He says, wrapping an arm around Y/n’s shoulder to pull them in the direction of the rest of the group.

“So, just so we’re being clear… our next date is gonna be with our friends, too?”

“Without, Y/n. Without.”

“Sorry without… Yuna and Kazuha, but Intak is coming.”

“Bring Intak and you’re not getting a second date.”

“I’m just teasing. Besides, I doubt you can stay away from me after this.”

“You know what? I’m starting to regret confessing to you.”

As the two playfully bicker back and forth, Yuna, Kazuha and Intak notice them coming over and decide to leave their hiding spot. “So the lovebirds finally got together, huh?” Yuna asks, earning eyerolls from Y/n and Sunoo. “Nothing’s official yet so don’t jinx it.” Sunoo warns, causing Yuna to look at him with a teasing smile. “So I shouldn’t talk about how you’re madly in love with Y/n and it’s taken you literally years to-” Yuna’s ramble gets cut off by Sunoo charging at her, causing her to end her sentence early with a loud squeal.

“Zuha, help!” Yuna exclaims as she attempts to run away from Sunoo. As the three friends laugh and chase each other around the now empty field, Y/n feels the sudden presence of Intak resting his chin on the top of their head.

“You look really happy.” He comments, the simple words causing Y/n’s smile to spread even further across their face. “I am.” They reply. “Sunoo’s cool… he’ll treat you well.” Intak mumbles, yawning slightly due to it getting later. Y/n snorts slightly at his words, playfully elbowing him in the stomach. “Why are you acting like my dad?” They ask, earning a shrug from their best friend. “I’m just happy that you’re happy.”

SUNDAY - 9 DAYS AFTER PROM:

Walking into the community centre feels a lot different on this particular day compared to all the previous times. Perhaps it’s due to the fluttery feeling in Y/n’s chest at the thought of seeing Sunoo again. They haven’t seen him since Friday night, where they agreed to go on a date. They did, however, text throughout most of yesterday.

Minho is back in his position at the front desk, with Jay, Beomgyu and Seonghwa in various other parts of the reception area. Sunoo also stands in the reception area, signing in for the day.

“Y/n, come and clear this up for me.” Minho says as soon as Y/n makes their way through the sliding glass doors. Their eyebrows furrow slightly but oblige nonetheless, not wanting to piss of Minho this early in the day.

“This kid says that you and Sunoo didn’t argue at all last week.” Minho scoffs, pointing accusingly at Jay, who holds his hands up in defence. “I honestly didn’t even know they were the problem kids until like, 2 hours into the shift.” Jay argues. “We didn’t argue.” Y/n shrugs, causing all the adults to look at them in shock. Sunoo tries to hold back his smile as he finishes signing in, unfortunately not going unnoticed by Beomgyu.

“Did something happen between you two?” Beomgyu asks with a smirk on his face, throwing his arm over Sunoo’s shoulder and shaking him a few times. “Beomgyu, that’s none of our business.” Seonghwa attempts to scold. “I see blushing.” Minho teases, pointing at Y/n’s face. “Let’s just get to work, are we going back to the old schedule?” Y/n asks, turning their attention fully to Seonghwa. He almost looks startled by Y/n’s question. “Can I trust you two to work together properly?” He asks, looking at both Y/n and Sunoo suspiciously. The teens quickly nod. “Okay… we’ll go back to the old schedule. You two will be in with Beomgyu today and then you’ll start fresh with Jay in clothes next week.”

“Okay but like… you guys are dating now, right?” Beomgyu asks as he walks into the food storage room, a large box of bread in his hand. Y/n and Sunoo look at each other, both questioning his words. That’s not even something they’re sure of. They agreed to go on a date… does that mean they are dating?

Beomgyu notices the confusion and chuckles slightly. “We’re not labelling it, huh? I remember those days.” He smiles, placing the box on the table. “Just try not to let it get in the way of your work… no matter how hard that might be.” Beomgyu says, almost as if he’s speaking from personal experience.

WEDNESDAY - 12 DAYS AFTER PROM:

Going on a date with Sunoo is exciting and terrifying at the same time. Everything is changing… they went from spending all of their time with Intak, to suddenly being in a friend group with Intak, Sunoo, Yuna and Kazuha. What if this thing with Sunoo doesn’t actually work out? Their friend groups have already basically intertwined and Intak seems to really enjoy having the others around. The last thing Y/n wants is to ruin it for him. They really like Sunoo, too. This needs to work out.

“Stop worrying about shit that isn't going to happen." Intak playfully scolds, softly hitting Y/n over the head with his book. The act immediately snaps Y/n out of their thoughts, making them look up at Intak with a small pout. "You didn't have to hit me." They mumble. "Yes, I did. You've been like this all day. Your date tonight's gonna go fine. I don't get why you're so worried." Intak says. "I'm just scared that I'll mess everything up." Y/n frowns, shaking their head in their hands in an attempt to silence their negative thoughts.

"You didn't mess it up when you literally hated him… how could you mess it up now that you like him?" Y/n struggles to argue with Intak's logic. They know that their insecurities are irrational and yet there's still this tiny part of their brain, shouting about how terribly this is all going to go.

"Well, no time to be insecure, here he comes." Intak says, gesturing over Y/n's shoulder before walking off.

The sudden presence of an arm around their shoulder causes y/n's entire body to relax. They know it's Sunoo; it always is.

"Where's he going?" Sunoo asks. "You scared him off." Y/n jokes back, causing Sunoo to laugh slightly. "Hey! I'm not even remotely threatening, thank you." He argues, pinching Y/n's shoulder. Strange how as soon as Y/n is in the presence of Sunoo, all their negative thoughts from before seem to mysteriously vanish.

"Are you all good with going right now? Or did you want to head home first?" Sunoo asks. "Well I didn't bring my car today and my ride just abandoned me so, I guess now works." Y/n shrugs.

Dinner and a movie - the most timeless first date. There's enough time at dinner to talk and get to know each other whilst also being able to just ignore each other during the movie if the dinner part doesn't go to plan. Y/n and Sunoo don't exactly have to get to know each other, though. It's more just getting to know this new side of each other.

So far on the date, Y/n has learnt that Sunoo is quite the gentleman. They're not sure if he's just pulling out all the stops because they're on a date or if he usually treats his partners like this but the chivalry is spot on. Letting y/n choose the restaurant, holding open the door, pulling out their chair, the works.

"You know," Sunoo starts, pointing a fry in Y/n's direction. "You never actually told me that you like me." Y/n rolls their eyes at his statement. "Yes Sunoo, I agreed to go on a date with you because I don't like you." They reply sarcastically. Sunoo holds his hands up in defence. "Is it wrong for me to want to know how my date feels about me?" Sunoo asks teasingly. Y/n's heart flutters at the word date but they try to ignore it. "When you're only asking because you want to hear me say it, yes."

Sunoo looks at Y/n expectantly, making them sigh. "Fine… I really like you, Sunoo." Y/n says, the genuine tone in their voice makes Sunoo smile brightly. "I really like you, too." He replies. Y/n grumbles something about him being stupid, which makes Sunoo laugh before turning back to his food.

"Okay, they didn't have any mint chocolate left which is… honestly criminal, but they had your favourite so I just got two of them." Sunoo says, happily handing Y/n an ice cream cone. "How did you know cookie dough is my favourite?" Y/n asks suspiciously. They have had many conversations with Sunoo, none of which involved anything they liked.

"You always bring those little cookie snack bars to the community centre… so I just took a guess." He shrugs. Y/n's eyes narrow at Sunoo. "What else do you know about me?" They ask, making him laugh slightly. "I'm very observant, so, a lot. You'll find out eventually." Sunoo winks, causing Y/n’s eyebrows to furrow.

Once the two find their seats, Sunoo pulls out the rest of the snacks that he had snuck into the theatre (why would he buy a bag of lollies for $6 when he could get the same ones at the grocery store for $2.50?) Y/n’s eyes widen as Sunoo lays out the snacks he had brought, each one being one of Y/n’s favourites.

“Okay, you’re messing with me now. You asked Intak for help, didn’t you?” Y/n asks, skeptically. “I swear, I didn’t.” Sunoo says, only confusing Y/n further. “Then how did you know to get me all of this? Y/n asks, their eyes shining in awe as they look at Sunoo. “Y/n… I’ve liked you for… almost 2 years now? It’d be weirder if I didn’t know about these kinds of things.” Y/n’s eyes widen at Sunoo’s words. It’s as if all the air has been knocked out of their lungs. “You’ve liked me for two years?” Y/n asks, almost in disbelief. “Why didn’t you say anything?” They ask, going to hit Sunoo’s shoulder but Sunoo catches their hand instead, holding it gently in his. “Be honest, Y/n. Would you have liked me back 2 years ago?” He asks. Y/n falls silent. They both know the answer to that. “I don’t know what to say.” Y/n mumbles. Sunoo smiles, reaching over with his other hand to ruffle their hair. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Their hands stay intertwined throughout the entire movie. It just feels right, the coolness of his skin contrasting against Y/n’s warmth. The way they each tighten their grip whenever a particularly tense scene plays or how Sunoo’s thumb gently grazes over Y/n’s knuckles when a sad one does. Neither wants to let go. Even when the movie comes to an end, the lights in the theatre turn on and everyone starts getting out of their seats, their hands stay intertwined.

“Okay, turn right at the next street.”

“No, the one after that.”

“There’s like this big tree, remember? That’s the one.”

“You missed the turn off.”

“Has anyone ever told you, you’re really bad at giving directions?” Sunoo laughs, as he does yet another u-turn. “Why do you think I’m usually the one driving? I don’t give directions, I take them.” Y/n grumbles. “We’re going to your house, Y/n. Surely, you know how to get there.” Sunoo laughs. “I’ve never been this way so I don’t know the names of anything.” Y/n argues. “Babe… use google maps.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Y/n finally pulls out their phone and types their address into google maps. “There, since I’m clearly no help.” Y/n pouts, shoving their phone on the dashboard. Sunoo can’t help but smile affectionately as he watches Y/n sulk. He reaches over to playfully pull at their cheek, causing them to swat his hand away. “You’re so cute.” Sunoo coos, laughing at the way Y/n’s face immediately turns a dark shade of pink. They mumble a quiet shut up reaching forward to link their hands with one of his, once again.

By the time Sunoo pulls up outside of Y/n’s house, they’re no longer sulking. Sunoo puts the car in park, taking off his seatbelt before turning to Y/n with a smile. “I had a really nice time tonight.” He says, reaching forward to take hold of Y/n’s hands. “Me too.” Y/n smiles. “And I’d like to do this more… a lot more.” Sunoo says. “Me too.” Y/n laughs, feeling overwhelmed with the amount of affection they feel towards the boy in front of them.

“Can I be your boyfriend, Y/n?”

Time in the car seems to stop just as those words left Sunoo’s lips. Kim Sunoo… as Y/n’s boyfriend? Months ago, Y/n would’ve thought that to be one of the worst things to happen to them. A form of torture… they’d probably say. But now… as they sit in Sunoo’s car, their hands intertwined with his, after one of the best first dates they’ve ever been on… they can think of nothing they want more.

Well… maybe they can think of one thing they want more. As their eyes flicker down to Sunoo’s lips, Y/n can’t help the overwhelming thoughts of how they would feel pressed against their own. Sunoo seems to notice, with the way the corners of his mouth turn up into a slight smirk. Is he licking his lips subconsciously? Or is he trying to drive Y/n even crazier than they already feel?

Y/n realises they haven’t answered Sunoo’s question. With their mind racing a mile a minute, they don’t even know what to say. Y/n’s brain flashes back to what Sunoo said earlier in the night… You don’t have to say anything.

Y/n decides to communicate their thoughts through their actions, not trusting their brain or voice to formulate a better response. With a simple nod of the head, Y/n slowly leans in, their eyes fluttering closed as they finally feel Sunoo’s plush lips against their own.

Y/n hasn’t kissed enough people to know what makes the perfect kiss but they reckon this one comes pretty close. They were never one for cliches, but the sparks, the butterflies, everything’s there. Everything’s right.

Maybe Intak was right (this seems to be a pattern recently.) As their lips dance together, Y/n can’t help but think that nothing with Sunoo could go wrong. They know it’s unrealistic, that all good relationships run into problems along the way, but that’s for future Y/n and future Sunoo to worry about. Right now, they can just relax in their ignorant bliss.

THE END

#enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen sunoo #sunoo fanfic #sunoo fanfiction #sunoo fluff #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jungwon #enhypen niki #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff

[uglypastels]

Hello:-) please for your Spotify event can I request footloose with Eddie please? I was listening to a similar song today and thinking about Eddie being goofy in a cowboy hat at someones cowboy themed party and reader starts flirting with him by taking his hat and dancing with it

Cause the cowboy hat rule, right? If a lady is wearing a guys hat at the end of the night, it means she's going home with him? Idk I just picture Eddie drooling her cause of the boldness of it all

Sorry if you're not a fan of this, I just saw an opportunity to share my daydream

i am obsessed! and this gives me an excuse to write more "cowboy"!eddie so i am sooo here for it. took a little bit of creative liberty here but i hope you like it <3

no explicit warnings. small sexual reference. drinking.

Spotify Wrapped Blurb event > send in a request! (masterlist)

‘No. Absolutely not.’

Now, when you came up with the idea, you expected Eddie not to be very excited, but he had declined it before you could even finish explaining. 

‘Oh, c’mon, Eddie. It could be really fun!’ You sat down next to him, eyes as big and innocent as you could make them, making your best friend feel some gnawing guilt in the pit of his stomach. But he kept strong. 

‘It sounds just as fun as clawing my eyes out with a plastic fork.’ 

‘Ouch,’ you winced at the imagery, ‘no need to be dramatic. It’s only a hoedown.’ 

Eddie glared at you as if to say, ‘that’s exactly the reason to be dramatic.’ A fucking hoedown. You had thought it could be a great night out, dress up, dance, drink, what’s there not to like, but Eddie saw it a bit differently. 

‘Forget it, I’m not doing it– no,’ as serious as he wanted to be, he cracked a smile through his determined words, seeing your face. ‘Seriously. No.’ 

‘Since when have you becomes such a stick in the mud?’ You crossed your arms. 

‘Since you came here and are forcing me to get all dressed up like John Wayne or something.’ He could not keep a straight face at all.

‘I was thinking more like John Travolta- Urban Cowboy’ you immediately saw the lack of amusement on Eddie’s face, ‘ok, ok, I get it. Sorry. Look, you wouldn’t even have to dress up. We could just go and hang out– maybe dance a little…’ you added in the last part softly, but he heard you. 

‘I don’t dance,’ Eddie was quick to remind you. And you knew that. Eddie Munson was not a dancer. Not because he couldn’t, the guy had great musicality to him, you were sure he could do some steps, but he simply refused. 

‘Fine, then you can sulk in the corner?’ 

‘I hate you,’ was his response, to which you replied with a big and tight hug. 

‘I love you too, Munchie.’ 

— 

A week went by, and each day passed with you being sure to see Eddie walk up to you or call you up at home and wiggle his way out of the arrangement. Even on Friday, the night before the party, you expected him to make some excuse after Hellfire. Then on Saturday morning, you were sure to wake up to him telling you he had to cancel last minute. 

But none of that happened. Instead, he arrived at your door 5 minutes early, giving you the shock of your life when you saw him standing on the porch. Here’s what the notorious metal freak Eddie Munson looked like that night, more or less: 

His hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. He was wearing a dark red flannel, which you had almost not recognised given that, instead it being worn in its usual state of being thrown over a black band t-shirt, he had it buttoned up. He had also exchanged his ripped jeans for some bootcut denim to fit… yes, the black leather cowboy boots. All of that was pulled together by the worn-out cowboy hat on top of his hat. And, of course, his classic handcuff belt buckle, because, at the end of the day, this was still your Eddie. 

Before you could ask him where he got the boots and hat from, Eddie explained: ‘Wayne let me borrow them.’ 

‘You look great,’ you said genuinely. 

‘You don’t look too bad yourself,’ he smirked, and you looked down at your cherry-red boots and skirt. Eddie then added, ‘alright, let’s get this over with.’ 

‘Glad to see someone’s excited,’ you rolled your eyes. ‘Seriously, try to tone the excitement down a notch, huh?’ did a tiny part of you break at seeing just how much he hated it? Yeah, but did that break also heal at the thought that, despite him not enjoying it himself, he was still here for you? Absolutely. So, you grabbed him by the hand, squeezed it, and walked towards the car. 

— 

‘Sorry for being a dick,’ Eddie said, to your surprise, when he stopped the car in the parking lot, ‘I still want you to have a good time, and don’t want to ruin that, sorry.’ 

‘It’s alright,’ you said, straightening out the material of your skirt. ‘I appreciate that you went through the trouble of getting dressed up. It means a lot. And you do, it.’ 

Eddie scoffed, never being great at taking compliments from you. He then got out of the van and ran across to your side to open the door for you. The little action but the biggest smile on your face, and one you couldn’t quite explain. 

You walked together to the community centre that had been redecorated to resemble an old barn for the party theme, including, somehow, the smell of hay. 

When you got inside, you saw some people dancing already, attempting a line dance and failing miserably. Not that that ruined anyone’s fun. 

‘It’s official,’ you heard Eddie mumble under his breath, ‘this is my personal hell.’ He chuckled, and you nudged him in the ribs as a warning. 

‘C’mon, Grumpy, let’s get something to drink.’ and so you pulled him, right through the dancefloor, to the makeshift bar. Eddie got both of you a beer, and he leaned against the wall as he drank. He was settled, both physically and in mind. He wasn’t going anywhere, and for sure not to dance. 

Naturally, as always, hanging out with Eddie was great, but you were a bit disappointed. Because, of course, there was a reason why you dragged him out there. A part of you had thought, that maybe once here, he would give in and share a dance with you. And maybe it was the too many fairytales you read as a kid; you thought that during or after that dance, something between you would click. Maybe he would realise something. Something you had felt for a long time about him… 

Someone called out your name. 

Your friend Louise popped up in front of you, waving frantically. You waved back to her, then glanced over to Eddie,  noticing he had taken off his hat. Well, if he wasn’t going to wear it… and so, you quickly snatched it away from him. He just smiled and sipped his beer. 

‘I’ll just go say hi to Louise,’ you explained. 

You had thought you had overdone it with your outfit, but it was barely anything to compare to what Louise was wearing. A large and puffy dress, matching the size of her teased and hairsprayed blonde hair. 

‘So glad you came!’ you grabbed you by the hand, involuntarily making you jump along with her enthusiastically. Yeah, it might have been her idea for all of you to attend this event. ‘And I see your cowboy showed up too,’ she looked over your shoulder at Eddie.

‘He’s not too happy,’ you frowned, ‘where’s Jack?’ and then asked after Louise’s boyfriend. 

‘Of he had to get back to the car, forgot his glasses.’ She rolled her eyes at her man’s forgetfulness. ‘Should be back in a jiffy. But tell me– did anything happen yet between you and–’

‘No, and I don’t think anything will. Honestly, I was silly to think that he might feel the same way.’

‘Oh, honey,’ Louise pouted at your defeat. 

‘It’s fine, I swear. Probably for the better, too. We’re good as it is.’ 

Something in Louise’s expression seemed to indicate she wasn’t too convinced, but then her smile quickly came back at the sight of another familiar face.

‘Marie!’ she shouted out, recognising one of her friends. ‘I told you about Marie, right? Honestly did not expect her to come– Hi!’ she wrapped her arms around the girl, who seemed slightly shell-shocked at the abrupt embrace. Once Louise released her, Marie shyly waved hello to you, an action you reciprocated. 

The three of you talked a bit, joking around and checking out the people in the room. You constantly checked up on Eddie, who seemed rather content in his little corner. He always felt better away from the crowds. 

Everything seemed fine for a while. You had made peace with the fact that the boy you had crushed on for the past who knows how many years had possibly no chance of liking you back, and you were having fun with your friends. Jack had finally returned (con glasses), and it all seemed just fine. 

And then something happened. The whole interaction lasted perhaps less than a minute. A guy walked over to your little group. Introduced himself as Milo to Marie. Not to you, not really. Besides a polite smile, he had barely acknowledged you. And just like that, he had whisked Marie off to the dancefloor. A moment later, another guy walked up to chat up Louise, as if her boyfriend wasn’t right next to her! Yet you, single and most definitely ready to mingle, were considered invisible. 

You tried to ignore it, pretend it didn’t affect you, but after the fourth person came to talk to Louise in the span of 10 minutes, you had had enough, and it showed all over your face. Not that you would admit it.

‘Are you alright, honey?’ 

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.’ you bit at the inside of your cheek. Louise, having been your friend ever since both of you could remember, immediately knew that your words were not true. 

‘What is it?’ 

‘I just didn’t realise all men were such jerks– not you, of course.’ you quickly turned to Jack, who smiled understandingly, but awkwardly. You quickly glanced back to Eddie, just to see he had found some of his own friends. They were all teasing each other’s costumes, so it seemed. 

‘Oh,’ your friend got it, and her reaction pulled you back to where you were standing. ‘Don’t take it personally. They just all think you’re taken.’ 

‘Bullshit, you are literally here with your boyfriend and everyone’s been chatting you up.’ 

‘It’s the hat.’ Jack said, rather matter-of-factly

‘I don’t understand.’ 

‘When a girl were’s a guy’s hat, it’s kind of like a code that she’s taken.’

‘Claimed, so to speak, a sign to all the other fellas to back off,’ Louise said. 

‘Oh.’ you reached up to touch the rim of your hat, but didn’t take it off. 

‘I honestly thought you knew,’ your friend smiled. 

‘No… sorry, can you guys give me a minute–’ and before they could respond, you made your way back to Eddie. He immediately smiled at your side. 

‘Hey, having a good time?’ he asked. 

‘Uh, yeah, yeah. Look, can we talk?’ You reached for his hand. 

‘Sure,’ he turned to his friends, excusing himself. The two of you walked a few feet away. 

‘You let me take your hat.’ You didn’t say it like a sentence, but it didn’t feel like a statement, either. To be honest, you weren’t sure where you were going with this conversation, and clearly, neither did Eddie. 

‘Yeah, well, you took it, didn’t feel like it was worth to argue. Besides–’ he tipped the rim up with his knuckle, ‘you look good wearing it.’

The nice words immediately rushed to your cheeks, and you found yourself unable to keep eye contact with Eddie for a moment. Once you regained the ability, however, you continued your non-inquisitive interrogation.

‘You know what it means, though? When a girl wears a guy’s hat.’ 

‘I’m not a complete novice to cowboy etiquette.’ He chuckled.

‘So you just knowingly let me go out there and be ignored by every guy in the room.’ you didn’t know why that idea made you so angry since you were literally standing in front of the one man whose the attention you wanted. 

‘Is this why you brought me here?’ he crossed his arms, an amused smirk on his lips, ‘to make me jealous?’ 

‘No, of course, not,’ you rolled your eyes before his words properly processed through your mind. ‘Wait– why would you be jealous?’ 

‘It’s not so nice to see guys constantly chat up the girl you like, is it?’ He pouted, and it only seemed to emphasise the sweet glimmer of his big brown eyes. You were dumbstruck for words, not sure what to say or do. 

While you kept fighting your mind to say something coherent, Eddie closed in on you. His hand found your waist, and he slowly leaned in. Your body worked automatically in-sync, closing that final gap between your lips. It was soft, sweet, and simultaneously mind-blowing. You felt like you were spinning and turning upside down; the only thing helping you from floating away was his gentle hold on you. 

Your, well, Eddie’s, hat got tipped to the side, so he straightened it out for you, smiling as he looked at it. Almost as if he was reminded of some kind of inside joke.

‘What’s up?’ you poked his shoulder. 

‘Well, you know the saying, right?’

‘What saying?’ You blinked slowly, and so did Eddie at hearing you were unaware of what he meant. 

‘The hat rule?’ 

‘Yeah, I know the hat rule. It’s a guy’s claim over the girl that wears his hat?’ 

‘Not exactly,’ he brushed some hair out of your face before bringing you back closer to him, chest to chest. ‘The saying goes something like this,’ he kissed the corner of your lips, ‘don’t steal a cowboy’s hat unless you’re prepared to ride him.’ And he continued his kisses down your neck.

‘Oh.’ Was all you could say, the shock being amplified by the feeling of Eddie’s lips on your skin, ultimately making you forget that you were still standing in a dance hall full of people. 

‘Yeah, oh,’ Eddie chuckled. ‘So, how about it?’

‘Is this just an excuse for you to get out of here and not dance?’ 

‘Never,’ Eddie gasped, clutching at his heart. ‘But we don’t want to break the rules, do we?’ 

All you could do was laugh at his antics. ‘You owe me a dance, cowboy.’ And so, you let him lead the way back to his van. 

the end.

thank you so much for reading!! please let me know what you thought and don't be shy to comment and reblog <3 or leave an anonymous review behind here :)

eddie taglist:

@spiderrrling @theglitterymess @dorianelizabeth @theletterhart @niyahwhoreworld @chatnoirfangirl1624 @fopdoodle1624 @pastel-abyss-x @ghoulsgraveyard @prettytoxix @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsx @ssanjuniperoo @nxrdamp @meaganjm @yourmommilf @mischiefmanagers @roseyykris @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreads @croweaterr @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @kbakery @sleeping-willlow @lizzylynch1 @liltimmyst @hellfire-state-of-mind @escape-in-time-blog @miscelaa @sweetpeapod @the-a-word-2214 @eddiemunsonbby @wh0re4munson @eddiesdingus @zoeyquinn94 @munsonmunchies @overthewhiteclouds @wroteclassicaly @groupies-do-it-better @stitchity @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @witchyrivers @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #blurb #request #imagine #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #writing #cowboy au #ish #hoedown fic

[ameagrice]

Capsize

chapter fifteen | play dead

percy jackson x fem reader

this is an extremely long chapter. I’d advise food and a drink before reading ;)

Annabeth winced every few minutes as you walked. Grover would groan and munch on a Campbell’s tin can, and Percy would nudge you and ask if you were okay.

“Course I am,” your brows came together. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m just asking!”

You elbowed him gently. “Are you?”

Percy nodded. “Yeah. I’m more worried about Annabeth and Grover than myself, though.”

You eyed the boy up front, still groaning. He tripped over his own hoof. “I think he’s good.”

“And Annabeth? She looks a little…” he tilted his head. “I don’t know, like, hurt.”

You flayed your hands. “That might be because—and get this—she is hurt.”

Percy rolled his eyes and reached out a hand to shove you. You laughed and threw yourself right back, bumping him in to a lamppost. “Ah!”

Annabeth and Grover turned around, and you sent them a brief ‘peace’ sign. They carried on their tin munching and wincing.

“You’re so annoying,” Percy groaned. “I think my shoulder is broken.”

“You’re so dramatic, Percy Jackson,” you sighed, playfully. “Anyway, don’t get too distracted by your elbow.”

“Shoulder.”

“Because—”

“This is it!” Annabeth called up front.

Your little group stood together in front of a records building.

“Oh, cool!”

Annabeth sent you a firm look. “No, you idiot. This is it. This is how we’re getting to the Underworld.”

You raised your eyebrows, shaking your head a little. “Yeah. And we can shop on the way past.”

She shoved past you. “You’re unbelievable.”

Percy snorted, so you pushed him in first.

He stumbled through the doorway, the bells above the threshold jingling to signal your arrival. You would have kept your smile, but it slowly slid off your face.

Because where the hell were the records?

“Guys,” you said slowly, looking around without moving. “You see all the dead people, too, don’t you?”

“Did you not listen to a word I said?” Annabeth huffed.

Aside from the smell of must, the other distraction was the constant mumbling. These people, as young as newborns and as old as elderly in ancient clothing, muttered or sat crying or talked to themselves. Some just stared at the space in front of them, or at their feet. Behind a desk to the side of the extremely crowded room sat a tall man with bleached blond hair buzzed short, with chocolate-color skin. He was so buff you knew he meant business when he said it. He could break your arm with a twist of his hand.

If he looked at any of you when you walked in, you wouldn’t have known it, since a pair of very dark slim sunglasses covered his gaze. In a silk, well-tailored suit, he stacked up coins on his desk, where a bell sat at the end of it.

The strangest part of all, however, was definitely the people. Whom looked staticky and fuzzy if you looked at them for too long.

His desk was a raised podium, so none of you had a choice in having to look up to him.

A name badge caught your attention: Charon.

You whispered it, testing it on your tongue. Percy turned down the bold route.

“Your name is Chiron?”

Something shifted. Charon leaned across the podium, smiling sweetly, coldly. “What a precious young lad." He had a strange accent. British, perhaps. But also as if he had learned English as a second language. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"

“N-no—” Percy said.

“Sir," he added smoothly.

“Sir," Percy ground out, jaw tight.

He pinched the name tag and ran his finger under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-R- O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."

"Charon."

"Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon."

"Mr. Charon," Percy’s tone changed to one of a lot more anger.

"Well done." He sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"

“We want to go to the underworld,” said Annabeth.

Charon’s mouth twitched. “Well, that’s refreshing.”

You pulled a face. “Is it?”

“Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No crying. No ‘there must be a mistake Mr Charon!’.” He sighed. “So, how did you die, then?”

It seemed this part caught your group off guard. Percy turned his head from the corner of your eye to look at you, and surprisingly, so did Annabeth on your other side.

“We drowned,” you said boldly. The first thing to come to mind. “School boating accident.”

“All four of you?”

You all nodded.

“Haven’t heard that one before.” He looked mildly impressed. “Don’t suppose you have have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children ... alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."

"Oh, but we have coins." Percy said confidently. You turned your head, a line coming between your brows. He dug in his pocket, and pulled out a handful of…drachmas? He set four of them out on the desk. Where the hell had he gotten them from?

"Well, now ..." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drach-mas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in ...". His fingers hovered greedily over the coins.

Then Charon looked up, at you or Percy, you couldn’t tell for the glasses. That cold stare seemed to bore a hole through your body. "Here now," he said. "You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lad?"

"No," Percy stumbled. "I'm dead."

Charon leaned forward and took a sniff. "You're not dead. I should've known. You're a godling."

“We have to get to the Underworld,” Percy informed almost desperately.

“It seems such a fun place,” you added, as if buttering the guy up would help. “Who better to come first than you?”

“Cut the crap, you little mini demigod.” He hissed lowly. “I’m not buying it. Leave while you can. I’ll just take these and forget I ever saw you.”

Like his tone of voice changed the feeling in the room, a couple of souls stood, pacing as though they were agitated, lighting cigarettes or talking louder. One woman started sobbing, an awful, gut-wrenching cry that almost traumatised you by sound alone.

Percy reached up and snatched the coins.

“No service,” his voice shook. “No tip.”

Charon growled again-a deep, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors.

“It’s a shame, as well,” he continued. “We had more to offer.”

More?!

Percy let coins rain on Charon’s desk. He watched them bounce and clink together like glass beads.

Charon's growl changed into something more like a lion's purr. "Do you think I can be bought, godling? Eh...just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?”

“A lot. I’ll bet Hades doesn’t pay you what you’re owed working here.”

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'Please don't let me be dead' or 'Please let me across for free.' I haven't had a pay raise in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?"

“You deserve better,” Percy swayed. “A little appreciation. Good pay. Respect.”

Buttering him up. Percy was buttering the guy up. And you hoped it worked.

Charon glanced down at his silk Italian jacket, as if imagining himself in something even better. "I must say, lad, you're making some sense now. Just a little."

The boy stacked another few coins. "I could mention a pay raise while I'm talking to Hades."

He sighed. "The boat's almost full, anyway. I might as well add you three and be off." He stood, scooped up our money, and said, "Come along."

For a second, you almost couldn’t believe it. It had worked. Things were going your way.

You held back at the back of your little group. As you passed, following Charon’s lead, a tall woman in a long fur coat tried to grab at your hair; you leaned away, dodging her as what felt like water trickled down your neck at her touch. As you leaned one way, a boy younger than you tried to tug on your coat, and a little girl in bloody ribbons blinked wide-eyed as you passed.

Inside the elevator, crowded and stuffy, stood souls already in waiting, holding small green boarding passes. You shoved yourself in between two women, one older wearing a strange dress of what looked like netting and gloves of the same material, and a girl in bell bottom jeans and a bright green shirt.

"Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone," Charon announced to the waiting room. "And if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?"

He shut the doors. He put a key card into a slot in the elevator panel and we started to descend. "What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" Annabeth asked.

"Nothing," Charon said.

"For how long?"

"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous." "Oh," she said. "That's...fair."

Charon raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said death was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going."

His words sent ice down your spine. It was no lie that everybody at some point had to die. Death was unavoidable, something that happened to every living thing whether they liked it or not. That didn’t mean the inevitable didn’t terrify you, or scare you silly. Death was scary because it was so unknown. You hoped this trip to the land of the dead might make your final trip there some day less scary.

You weren't going down anymore, but forward. The air turned misty. Spirits around you started to change shape. Their versions of modern clothes flickered, turning into gray hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying. You wished there was something to hold on to, but found you were too anxious to move. Nothing about this was comforting. To your left, Charon’s suit had changed as well, to a black hooded robe. His glasses were gone, replaced by empty sockets just as Ares’ had been. He turned his head slowly, and your organs dropped, the breath leaving your body.

“Well?”

You shook your head, trying to will oxygen back in to your lungs. “Nothing,” you whispered.

The longer you watched, the more transparent his face became, until you could see through to his skull. Your skin began to turn clammy. This was doing nothing to help your fear. If anything, it only enhanced it all.

And suddenly, you blinked. The elevator was no longer that, but a large, wide wooden barge. Charon stood at the front, pushing across what you thought at first was just water, with a large oar. The closer you looked, and the harder you stared, you found things floated in the ‘water’.

The oily liquid was filled with torn diplomas and floating wedding rings, stuffed toys and plastic baby dolls. Bones floated here and there. And you realised then, that these were people’s loved dreams. Their hopes in life. All dumped in one, unforgiving place. You couldn’t take things with you when you went.

The River Styx," Annabeth murmured. "It's so..."

"Polluted," Charon said. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across-hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."

Mist curled off the filthy water. Above you all, almost lost in the gloom, was a ceiling of stalactites. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the color of poison.

In your chest, something spread like tar, sticking and forcing your organs to try harder to keep you going. Your heart beat wilder, your lungs sped up, and you felt a lonely sense of isolation and quietness. To your left, Annabeth and Percy were holding hands.

You faced the quiet alone.

The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about a hundred yards to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as the eye could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones-the howl of a large animal.

"Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. "Bad luck for you, godlings."

The bottom of the boat slid onto the black sand. The dead began to disembark. A woman holding a little girl's hand. An old man and an old woman hobbling along arm in arm.

Charon said, "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there isn't any down here. Mind you, don't forget to mention my pay raise."

He counted the golden coins into his pocket, then took up his pole. He warbled something that sounded like a song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river.

The four of you followed the spirits up a well-worn path. Here, pressure filled your eyes and throat—the sense to cry was getting stronger. And you couldn’t for the life of you explain why. Maybe because somewhere in your mind, you knew this was the end for everyone. This was the final destination, the end of a ride. You just didn’t want to be here yet.

The entrance to the Underworld looked like a cross between airport security and the Jersey Turnpike.

There were three separate entrances under one huge black archway that said YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a pass-through metal detector with secu-rity cameras mounted on top. Beyond this were tollbooths manned by black-robed ghouls like Charon.

The howling of the hungry animal was really loud now. The three-headed dog, Cerberus, who was supposed to guard Hades's door, was nowhere to be seen.

The dead queued up in the three lines, two marked ATTENDANT ON DUTY, and one marked EZ DEATH. The EZ DEATH line was moving right along. The other two were crawling.

"What do you figure?" Percy’s voice came, asking Annabeth.

"The fast line must go straight to the Asphodel Fields," she said. "No contest. They don't want to risk judgment from the court, because it might go against them."

"There's a court for dead people?"

The four of you stood together, thinking. Here, Annabeth would be the expert.

“Yeah. Three judges. They switch around who sits on the bench. King Minos, Thomas Jefferson, Shakespeare—people like that. Sometimes they look at a life and decide that person needs a special reward—the Fields of Elysium. Sometimes they decide on punishment. But most people, well, they just lived. Nothing special, good or bad. So they go to the Asphodel Fields."

"And do what?"

Grover said, "Imagine standing in a wheat field in Kansas. Forever."

“Harsh.”

"Not as harsh as that," Grover muttered. "Look."

All your eyes turned forward.

A couple of black-robbed ghouls had pulled aside one spirit and were frisking him at the security desk.

"He's that preacher who made the news, remember?" Grover asked.

What're they doing to him?"

"Special punishment from Hades," Grover guessed. "The really bad people get his personal attention as soon as they arrive. The Fur—the Kindly Ones will set up an eternal torture for him."

"But if he's a preacher," said Percy, "and he believes in a different hell...."

Grover shrugged. "Who says he's seeing this place the way we're seeing it? Humans see what they want to see. You're very stubborn—uh, persistent, that way."

The howling was so loud, now, that the ground was shaking under your feet. You looked around, beginning to grow agitated.

Then,a good few feet in front of you, the green mist shimmered. Standing just where the path split into three lanes was an enormous shadowy monster.

Your jaw dropped. “Oh holy—”

“He’s a Rottweiler?!” Percy exclaimed.

The dead walked right up to him—no fear at all. The ATTENDANT ON DUTY lines parted on either side of him. The EZ DEATH spirits walked right between his front paws and under his belly, which they could do without even crouching.

"I'm starting to see him better," Percy muttered. "Why is that?"

"I think..." Annabeth moistened her lips. "I'm afraid it's because we're getting closer to being dead." The dog's middle head craned toward us. It sniffed the air and growled.

"It can smell the living.”

“But that’s okay, because we have a plan.”

You kept your mouth firmly shut. Even if you wanted to speak, nothing really would come out.

Closer you came to the lines and the dog, unable to meet its face.

"Can you understand it?"

"Oh yeah," Grover said. "I can understand it."

"What's it saying?"

"I don't think humans have a four-letter word that translates, exactly."

Percy dug around in his backpack and took out a big stick—a bedpost it looked like. He held it up, and tried to channel happy dog thoughts toward Cerberus-Alpo commercials, cute little puppies, fire hydrants. He tried to smile, like he wasn’t about to die. It was more of a sick grimace.

"Hey, Big Fella," He called up. "I bet they don't play with you much."

GROWWWLLLL!

"Good boy," Percy said weakly.

He waved the stick. The dog's middle head followed the movement. The other two heads trained their eyes on you four, completely ignoring the spirits. Percy had Cerberus's undivided attention.

"Fetch!" He threw the stick into the gloom, a good solid throw. You heard it go ker-sploosh in the River Styx.

Cerberus glared at him, unimpressed. His eyes were baleful and cold.

“Well done,” you muttered shakily, frozen.

“Um," Grover said. "Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"I just thought you'd want to know."

"Yeah?"

"Cerberus? He's saying we've got ten seconds to pray to the god of our choice. After that...well…he's hungry."

"Wait!" Annabeth said. She started rifling through her pack.

"Five seconds," Grover said. "Do we run now?"

Annabeth produced a red rubber ball the size of a grapefruit. It was labeled WATERLAND, DENVER, CO. Before anyone could stop her, she raised the ball and marched straight up to Cerberus.

She shouted, "See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!”

Cerberus looked stunned. All three heads tilted.

“Sit!” Annabeth called again.

“You’re gonna be dog food,” you muttered weakly.

But instead, Cerberus licked his three sets of lips, shifted on his haunches, and sat, immediately crushing a dozen spirits who'd been passing underneath him in the EZ DEATH line. The spirits made muffled hisses as they dissi-pated, like the air let out of tires.

Annabeth said, "Good boy!" She threw Cerberus the ball.

He caught it in his middle mouth. It was barely big enough for him to chew, and the other heads started snap-ping at the middle, trying to get the new toy.

"Drop it.'" Annabeth ordered.

Cerberus's heads stopped fighting and looked at her. The ball was wedged between two of his teeth like a piece of stuck apple. He made a loud, scary whimper, then dropped the ball, now slimy and bitten nearly in half, at Annabeth's feet.

"Good boy." She picked up the ball, ignoring the spit all over it. You gagged.

She turned around, ball in hand. Spit dribbled off of it and hissed when it hit the ground. “Go. Now. The EZ DEATH line is quicker.”

You observed in quietness. Percy rejected the idea, but was firmly told in the Annabeth way to get on with it.

The three of you inched forward. Cerberus growled and prepared to jump.

“Stay!” Annabeth demanded. “You want the ball? Stay!”

You walked between his legs to pass, and rushed to get out before he could sit.

You’d thought you were all safe. Until Grover and Percy pushed through the detectors of the line, and they started going crazy.

“Unauthorised possessions! Unauthorised possessions!”

“If they start talking,” you rambled, hands up as you ran with the others. “No hablo English!”

-

Imagine a field a million times bigger than a football field, packed with people, and imagine the electricity has gone out, and there is no noise, no light, no beach ball bouncing around over the crowd. Something tragic has happened backstage. Whispering masses of people are just milling around in the shadows, waiting for a concert that will never start.

If you can picture that, you have a pretty good idea what the Fields of Asphodel looked like. The black grass had been trampled by eons of dead feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the breath of a swamp. Black trees—Grover told you they were poplars-grew in clumps here and there. You felt maybe he was trying to distract you—you had been quiet after all—but nothing worked.

And as if things couldn’t get any worse, it wasn’t long before things began to go wrong.

Grover was dragged by his magic shoes—yes, dragged—by an invisible force straight across the gigantic field. No amount of pulling on his hands helped—because he just pulled you along too. Determined not to let Grover die here, you held on as Annabeth and Percy yelled and ran after you both.

“Untie the shoes!” Annabeth called.

It was easier said than done when Grover couldn’t even lift his legs.

You ripped between the legs of spirits who muttered angrily at you, the feeling of ice running across your body with every touch. You shivered, arms growing tired, and body beginning to hurt from being pulled across the uneven landscape.

“I can’t hold on!” You yelled. “Kick them off!”

But they were laced up. And you wanted to scream in anger at the whole situation.

Up ahead, the gates to Hades’ palace loomed and you thought perhaps you’d go through there.

But no. You veered very sharply right, and your body hit the gate. You yelled as your bones hit it hard.

“Get hold of something!” Percy screamed from way behind.

“Like what?!” You screamed back. All around you was gravel and dirt and darkness, and you selfishly thought of letting Grover go.

Through a tunnel you went, growing darker and darker and colder and colder, and your thoughts changed so abruptly you felt sick. Maggots on a dead body. Butterflies with clipped wings. Blood on stones.

The tunnel widened into a huge, huge cavern, with a gaping hole in the middle of it the size of Manhattan’s centre. You couldn’t help the scream of terror that ripped from your lungs.

“Guys!” Annabeth screamed. “Hold on to something! Anything!”

Your hands began to slip on Grover’s, both of you sweaty and tired. “Grover—”

“Don’t let me go!” He cried, looking at you. “I—”

All of a sudden, you jolted. You watched as Grover’s foot hit a giant rock, and one shoe came flying off. His fake foot went with it, leaving his hoof. The other shoe slowed down drastically and pulled you at a much slower rate.

As you passed the rock Grover hit, you let go of one of his hands, and looped your arm over it as best you could.

You both came to a stop.

Breathing hard, front aching and stinging, you both gasped for breath.

Grover’s legs dangled over the edge of the chasm.

Annabeth and Percy took you one each, Grover first. Once he was up and out of the way, Percy helped you to your lead-like legs with a hand under your arm and your own around his shoulders as you gasped for breath. Your jacket sleeves were ripped to shreds, and Percy helped you pull it off. Fabric stuck to your cut arms, bleeding and itchy and stuck with stones. Your cheeks stung too, no doubt cut from the stones. Your shirt was all ripped down the front, pants the same, and the only thing in somewhat of a decent condition was your backpack.

Grover’s hands bled too, and his eyes were in slits the way there were when he got scared.

“I didn’t know—I didn’t—”

“Who gave them to you?” You asked breathlessly. Grover opened his mouth.

“Wait!” Percy held up a hand. You all fell silent. “Listen.”

A faint whispering was filling the air, and you frowned, looking around.

“Percy, this place—” Annabeth tried.

“Shh,” he stood.

The sound was getting louder, a muttering, evil voice from far, far below. Coming from the pit.

Grover sat up. "Wh-what's that noise?"

Annabeth heard it too, now. "Tartarus. The entrance to Tartarus."

Percy’s bronze sword expanded, gleaming in the darkness in his hand, and the evil voice seemed to falter, just for a moment, before resuming its chant.

It almost sounded ancient, all ancient words, older even than Greek. As if…

"Magic.”

"We have to get out of here," Annabeth said.

Together, you all stood. Percy dragged Grover to his hooves and started back up the tunnel. Your legs wouldn't move fast enough. he voice got louder and angrier behind you, and you were the first to break into a run.

And not a moment too soon.

A blast of freezing air hit you, and you briefly slowed. Terrifyingly, Percy slipped, and you bent down to grab at his arms, pulling him up. Grover and Annabeth called to you both from further up, still moving slowly, waiting for you without without.

Any closer to the edge and you’d have been pulled in.

“What was that?” Grover panted as you kept going. “One of Hades’ pets?”

You didn’t dare look up from the ground, still trying to find your breath.

“Let’s keep going,” Percy settled for. “Can you two walk okay?”

You nodded. You’d have to. There wasn’t a choice down here.

Above, Furies circled the parapets.

Up close, the engravings on the gates of the palace were scenes of death. Some were from modern times—an atomic bomb exploding over a city, a trench filled with gas mask-wearing soldiers, a line of African famine victims waiting with empty bowls—but all of them looked as if they'd been etched into the bronze thousands of years ago. A scene of a boy holding a girl across his knees, his face pressed into her hair. You wondered if they might have been prophecies that had come true.

Inside the courtyard was the strangest garden ever seen. Multicolored mushrooms, poisonous shrubs, and weird luminous plants grew without sunlight. Precious jewels made up for the lack of flowers, and piles of rubies as big as your hands, clumps of raw diamonds. Standing here and there like frozen party guests were Medusa's garden statues—petrified children, satyrs, and centaurs—all smiling grotesquely.

In the center of the garden was an orchard of pomegranate trees, their orange blooms neon bright in the dark.

"The garden of Persephone," Annabeth said. "Keep walking."

The smell of the fruits was so appetising it sent you into a daze. You blinked at a glowing blue fruit hanging off a tree as you passed it, and reached your hand out.

A hard slap came down on your skin, and you gasped at Percy, gawping at him. He looked almost ashamed.

“Just…don’t touch anything. In case.”

In case you’re stuck down here, you understood.

The four of you walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a black marble portico, and into the house of Hades. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor, which seemed to boil in the reflected torchlight. There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof, far above.

Every side doorway was guarded by a skeleton in military gear. Some wore Greek armor, some British redcoat uniforms, some camouflage with tattered American flags on the shoulders. They carried spears or muskets or M-16s. None of them bothered you, but their hollow eye sockets followed as you walked down the hall, toward the big set of doors at the opposite end.

Two U.S. Marine skeletons guarded the doors. They grinned, rocket-propelled grenade launchers held across their chests.

"You know," Grover mumbled, "I bet Hades doesn't have trouble with door-to-door salesmen."

In the quiet, your brief laughter was a shock to the air.

In front of the doors you all stood in a line. Percy raised his fist. “Well, I guess we should knock, right?”

A hot wind blew down the corridor, and the doors swung open. The guards stepped aside.

"I guess that means entrez-vous," Annabeth said.

The room was fully black and dark and the air was almost suffocating. The ceiling was high and bright without lights. You looked down—under your feet the floor was shiny like marble.

And on the golden throne, sat a man whose powerful aura you felt all the way across the room.

He was at least ten feet tall, for one thing, and dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He wasn't bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and terrifyingly dangerous.

And he caught your eyes instantly. His face betrayed nothing.

And from the corner of your eye, a tiny tear slipped.

For no good reason. In here, in his presence for a few seconds, something just felt ominous and scary, and you had the suddenly inkling, the firm knowledge, that this would not be the last time you would be in Death’s presence.

For some reason, in here, the emotional atmosphere was strong. Impactful. Impressionable. It made you think of those who had gone before you. It made you wish for a kind death.

The Lord of the Dead resembled pictures I'd seen of Adolph Hitler, or Napoleon, or the terrorist leaders who direct suicide bombers. Hades had the same intense eyes, the same kind of mesmerizing, evil charisma. In there, nestled somewhere, you could feel a soft sort of something, as if the Lord of the Dead was not all and completely terrible. You’d never voice that, though.

"You are brave to come here, Son of Poseidon," he said in an confident, manly voice. "After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish."

Lord and Uncle, I come with two requests."

Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment, as if the garment were stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out.

“Only two requests?" Hades said. "Arrogant child. As if you have not already taken enough. Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet."

“Lord Hades," Percy said. "Look, sir, there can't be a war among the gods. It would be…bad."

“Really bad," Grover added helpfully.

"Return Zeus's master bolt to me," he carried on. "Please, sir. Let me carry it to Olympus."

Hades's eyes grew dangerously bright. "You dare keep up this pretense, after what you have done?"

You were so, utterly confused.

“Um ... Uncle," I said. "You keep saying 'after what you've done.' What exactly have I done?"

The throne room shook with a tremor so strong, they probably felt it upstairs in Los Angeles. Debris fell from the cavern ceiling. Doors burst open all along the walls, and skeletal warriors marched in, hundreds of them, from every time period and nation in Western civilization. They lined the perimeter of the room, blocking the exits.

Hades bellowed, "Do you think I want war, godling?"

“You are the Lord of the Dead," Percy countered carefully. "A war would expand your kingdom, right?"

"A typical thing for my brothers to say! Do you think I need more subjects? Did you not see the sprawl of the Asphodel Fields?"

"Well..."

"Have you any idea how much my kingdom has swollen in this past century alone, how many subdivisions I've had to open?" He demanded, growing louder.

"More security ghouls," he moaned. "Traffic problems at the judgment pavilion. Double overtime for the staff. I used to be a rich god, Percy Jackson. I control all the pre-cious metals under the earth. But my expenses!"

"Charon wants a pay raise.”

“Don't get me started on Charon!" Hades yelled. For the first time since arriving, you found a grin tugging at your mouth at his words. “He's been impossible ever since he discovered Italian suits! Problems everywhere, and I've got to handle all of them personally. The commute time alone from the palace to the gates is enough to drive me insane! And the dead just keep arriving. No, godling. I need no help getting subjects! I did not ask for this war."

"But you took Zeus's master bolt."

"Lies!" More rumbling. Hades rose from his throne, towering to the height of a football goalpost. "Your father may fool Zeus, boy, but I am not so stupid. I see his plan."

"His plan?"

"You were the thief on the winter solstice," he said. "Your father thought to keep you his little secret. He directed you into the throne room on Olympus, You took the master bolt and my helm. Had I not sent my Fury to discover you at Yancy Academy, Poseidon might have succeeded in hiding his scheme to start a war. But now you have been forced into the open. You will be exposed as Poseidon's thief, and I will have my helm back!"

“But…” Annabeth trailed. “Your Helm of Darkness is missing too?” She asked.

“Do not play innocent with me, girl. You, that one and the satyr have been helping this hero—coming here to threaten me in Poseidon's name, no doubt—to bring me an ultimatum. Does Poseidon think I can be blackmailed into supporting him?"

“No!” Percy called. “Poseidon didn’t—I didn’t—”

“I have said nothing of the helm's disappearance," Hades snarled, "because I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help. I can ill afford for word to get out that my most powerful weapon of fear is missing. So I searched for you myself, and when it was clear you were coming to me to deliver your threat, I did not try to stop you."

"You didn't try to stop us? But—”

"Return my helm now, or I will stop death," Hades threatened. "That is my counterproposal. I will open the earth and have the dead pour back into the world. I will make your lands a nightmare. And you, Percy Jackson—your skeleton will lead my army out of Hades."

The skeletal soldiers all took one step forward, making their weapons ready.

“You're as bad as Zeus. You think I stole from you? That's why you sent the Furies after me?"

“Of course," Hades fumed.

"And the other monsters?"

Hades curled his lip. "I had nothing to do with them. I wanted no quick death for you—I wanted you brought before me alive so you might face every torture in the Fields of Punishment. Why do you think I let you enter my kingdom so easily?"

"Easily?"

"Return my property!"

"But I don't have your helm. I came for the master bolt."

"Which you already possess!" Hades shouted. His anger echoed. “You came here with it, little fool, thinking you could you threaten me!"

"But I didn't!"

"Open your pack, then."

You turned around, facing the others. “Percy, what is he talking about?” Your voice was quiet in the instant silence after Hades’s words.

He slung it off his shoulder and to his feet, then unzipped it. Inside was a two-foot-long metal cylinder, spiked on both ends, humming with energy.

"Percy," Annabeth said. "How-"

"I-I don't know. I don't understand."

“You heroes are always the same," Hades said. “Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus's master bolt, but since it is here, you will yield it to me. I am sure it will make an excellent bargaining tool. And now...my helm. Where is it?"

How could you defend Percy now?

“Lord Hades, wait," Percy asked.

"This is all a mistake." "A mistake?" Hades roared.

The skeletons aimed their weapons. From high above, there was a fluttering of leathery wings, and the three Furies swooped down to perch on the back of their master's throne. The one with Mrs. Dodds's face grinned and flicked her whip.

“There is no mistake," Hades said. "I know why you have come—I know the real reason you brought the bolt. You came to bargain for her.”

Hades loosed a ball of gold fire from his palm. It exploded on the steps in front of you, forcing you to take a step back, and there was Percy’s mom, frozen in a shower of gold, just as she was at the moment when the Minotaur began to squeeze her to death.

Percy stepped forward and reached out, but drew back his hand instantly.

“Yes,” Hades said with satisfaction. “I took her. I knew, Percy Jackson, that you would come to bargain with me eventually. Return my helm, and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change."

“Ah, the pearls," Hades said, and you stopped breathing. Yet another thing, you thought, Percy had not told you about. “Yes, my brother and his little tricks. Bring them forth, Percy Jackson.”

You watched him dig in his pocket, before pulling out his fist and straightening his palm. Three pearls sat in the middle.

“Only four,” Hades said. "What a shame. You do realize each only protects a single person. Try to take your mother, then, little godling. And which of your friends will you leave behind to spend eternity with me? Go on. Choose. Or give me the backpack and accept my terms.”

Percy’s eyes flitted from one of you to the other. You didn’t care what happened right now—more than anything, you were confused.

“We were tricked. Set up.”

“Yes, but why? And the voice in the pit—?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll ask.”

“When did this happen?” You interrupted. All three of them looked to you. You felt wildly out of place—disjointed. “The pearls and the voice and everything and the bolt. Why did nobody tell me?”

Most of all, you felt betrayed. If your friends hadn’t so much as told you the basics, what else were they keeping from you?

“DECIDE, BOY!”

“Percy, you can’t give him the bolt.”

Nobody answered you, and you felt even more humiliated.

“I know that—”

“Leave me here, first off. Use one for your mom.”

“No!"

"I'm a satyr," Grover said. "We don't have souls like humans do. He can torture me until I die, but he won't get me forever. I'll just be reincarnated as a flower or something. It's the best way."

"No." Annabeth drew her bronze knife. "You two go on. Grover, you have to protect Percy. You have to get your searcher's license and start your quest for Pan. Get his mom out of here. I'll cover you. I plan to go down fighting."

"No way," Grover said. "I'm staying behind." "Think again, goat boy," Annabeth said.

“Stop it, both of you!” Percy cut in, eyes glassy. You opened your mouth. “Don’t you start!” He interrupted with a thick voice. “I know what to do.”

He handed you each a pearl. You accepted it numbly.

“But—Percy—”

He turned to face his mom. “I’m sorry. I’ll find a way. I'll find your helm, Uncle," Percy told him. "I'll return it. Remember about Charon's pay raise."

"Do not defy me—”

"And it wouldn't hurt to play with Cerberus once in a while. He likes red rubber balls."

"Percy Jackson, you will not—"

He shouted, "Now, guys!"

You smashed the pearls at your feet. For a scary moment, nothing happened. And you almost cursed Percy Jackson.

Hades yelled, "Destroy them!"

The army of skeletons rushed forward, swords out, guns clicking to full automatic. The Furies lunged, their whips bursting into flame.

Just as the skeletons opened fire, the pearl fragments at my feet exploded with a burst of green light and a gust of fresh sea wind. You were encased in a milky white sphere, which was starting to float off the ground.

Spears and bullets sparked harmlessly off the pearl bubbles as they floated up. Hades yelled with such rage, the entire fortress shook and you knew it wasn’t going to be a peaceful night in L.A.

"Look up.' Grover yelled. "We're going to crash!"

"How do you control these things?" Annabeth shouted.

Sure enough, everyone raced right toward the stalactites, which you figured would pop your bubbles and skewer everyone.

"I don't think you do!" Percy shouted back.

We screamed as the bubbles slammed into the ceiling and…Darkness.

You were going up, right through solid rock as easily as an air bubble in water. That was the power of the pearls.

For a few moments, nobody could see anything outside the smooth walls of the sphere, then your pearl broke through on the ocean floor. The three other milky spheres, Percy, Annabeth and Grover, kept pace as you soared upward through the water. And—bam!

Your head broke the surface of a a wave, and you gasped as the cool water covered you. A guy surfing was knocked off his board, knocking into you and sending you under with him. You tumbled in the darkness, frantically kicking to the surface again. Percy reached over and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you over to the others. Alarm was raised on his face until he looked you over. A shark swam in circles around you all and you really thought this was the end of your journey.

“Beat it,” Percy tipped his head in the other direction, and the shark swam off.

The peach skies told you the date: early morning, June 21, the day of the summer solstice.

In the distance, Los Angeles was on fire, plumes of smoke rising from neighborhoods all over the city. There had been an earthquake, all right, and it was Hades's fault.

I snuck in some hints in this chapter for events that will occur later on in the other books. Those, added with some songs on the playlist, will tell you everything you need to know ;)

Taglist:

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx @hawkeye12 @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @luckydragontriumph @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @bugsys-bubble @twsssmlmaa

#capsize #percy jackson #pjo #leo valdez #annabeth chase #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #hoo #jason grace #nico di angelo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #Percy Jackson series #leo valdez x reader #Frank zhang #jason grace x reader

[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

Benjen gave Jon a careful, measuring look. “You don’t miss much, do you, Jon? We could use a man like you on the Wall.”

Jon swelled with pride. “Robb is a stronger lance than I am, but I’m the better sword, and Hullen says I sit a horse as well as anyone in the castle.”

“Notable achievements.”

“Take me with you when you go back to the Wall,” Jon said in a sudden rush. “Father will give me leave to go if you ask him, I know he will.”

Uncle Benjen studied his face carefully. “The Wall is a hard place for a boy, Jon.”

“I am almost a man grown,” Jon protested. “I will turn fifteen on my next name day, and Maester Luwin says bastards grow up faster than other children.”

“That’s true enough,” Benjen said with a downward twist of his mouth. He took Jon’s cup from the table, filled it fresh from a nearby pitcher, and drank down a long swallow.

“Daeron Targaryen was only fourteen when he conquered Dorne,” Jon said. The Young Dragon was one of his heroes.

“A conquest that lasted a summer,” his uncle pointed out. “Your Boy King lost ten thousand men taking the place, and another fifty trying to hold it. Someone should have told him that war isn’t a game.” He took another sip of wine. “Also,” he said, wiping his mouth, “Daeron Targaryen was only eighteen when he died. Or have you forgotten that part?”

“I forget nothing,” Jon boasted. The wine was making him bold. He tried to sit very straight, to make himself seem taller. “I want to serve in the Night’s Watch, Uncle.”

In fandom, we often talk about Jon’s antics in his first AGOT chapter - e.g., boasting about being the better swordsman than Robb, his admiration of Daeron I, his insistence that he is a man and not a boy - as evidence of his immaturity. And there’s nothing wrong with that interpretation at all - I for one think that it’s very valid - but I rarely ever see this exchange with Benjen put in its full context; more specificallyy, the full context of what’s happening this entire chapter (and honestly what’s being going on in Jon’s life up to that point).

Because there’s something so…depressing and tragic about a fourteen year old boy desperately trying to grow up faster than is necessary because once he is a man, then there must be a place for him in this world. Because this exchange with Benjen is not happening in a vacuum. It arises out of the situation where the delineation between Jon’s social status and that of his siblings has been made ever more clear: his siblings get to sit at the high table with the visiting royal family whereas Jon has to sit with the squires far away from familiar company. But more importantly, he is a Snow and his siblings are Starks. They have a place of belonging (afforded to them by their Stark name) whereas he does’t (because he’s a bastard).

So Jon has to nurse his wounds with the belief that despite his bastardy, there has to be something he can do to belong. And what can he do, except grow up and be a man? At…fourteen years old?

So even though Robb can sit among royalty, Jon can still hold a sword just as well (in fact better) and ride a horse. He can be great too, not because of his name but because of his ability; but I do have to quibble with Benson’s (seemingly) sarcastic response to Jon’s answers here. Are you even bothering to actually listen to what Jon is saying, Uncle Ben?

And I have to admit that it makes me quite angry that the notion of bastards growing up faster than trueborns is not at all challenged among the characters. Do bastards actually grow up faster, or are they forced to fend for themselves faster than trueborns naturally would, just like Jon is in this chapter? It certainly doesn’t help that Benjen agrees with he statement, despite literally contradicting it just some few minutes earlier (by saying that Jon is just a boy and thus too young to make any life decisions for himself - like joining the Watch).

And as I was pondering on this, I realized that Jon really has been getting contradictory “advice” all his life: he’s a bastard so he has to grow up faster and cut his childhood short so he can make use of himself, but he’s actually a boy so his abilities and desires to advance are only a boy’s delusions, but then he has to join the watch and be a man and do a man’s job (and make a man’s sacrifices as Luwin would put it 🙄), but then he’s still a boy at the end of it all.

Given all this emotional and mental whiplash, Jon is actually quite well adjusted. I couldn’t imagine having to be pulled into 1000 different directions because at the heart of it the question is: is he a man or is he a boy? And what can he do, boy or man that he is, because he’s still a bastard?

I think this chapter shows that no one really bothered to sit Jon down and tell him that it’s okay to be a child, and that he doesn’t have to age far beyond his years because there’ll be someone to look out for him.

Worse yet, this chapter shows a young boy desperate to find a place for himself in the world, because no one else bothered to do so.

#jon snow #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #Do we ever in fandom talk about how Jon is really just a boy? #Because we should #He gets so many contradictory statements about being a man and not a boy #He has to perform a man’s duty but he’s just a boy #He has to bear a man’s burdens and sacrifices But he is just a boy so his achievements and strengths are not that noteworthy #Because Jon knows that Daeron was only 18 yrs old #But how is he supposed to put that into account #When literally no one bothered to say - hey kid you don’t need to rush #ugh #This chapter reminded me of that Taylor Swift song that goes like #“You’re on your own kid” #No one bothered to hold Jon’s hand at his young age #So he had to grow up faster than what was necessary - all on his own #NED STARK WHEN I CATCH YOU!!!! #And Luwin you miserable f*** - hell is hot for you I say #Did I cry reading this chapter? Maybe I did

[blushyeleven]

This fic is ofcourse dedicated to my online bestfriend @lopsicle because it is their birthday!!! I absolutely love you so much and I’m so glad that I made my tumblr acc because meeting you definitely had to be one of my favourite parts of it. Almost a year ago we met and I don’t regret one moment and everyday we have gotten closer and I really appreciate all the times you have listened to me, listen to my paragraphs about a few pokes i got from chanelle or just listening to me talk about my bad day. I’m so grateful fr you being the most understanding and amazing friend. I hope you have the best day and get everything you want. I love you lop🩷

note: This fic is very rushed so I am very sorry about that😭

Warnings: tickles, light swearing.

Characters: Lee!y/n ler!jennaortega

𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

Your eyes flung open. 8:30am. You had a restless night sleep, I mean, it was your birthday eve. And it was now your birthday. You turned around to find your bed.. empty? Nothless you flung yourself out of bed and skipped down the stairs to were you presumed your girlfriend, jenna would be. And you were right. You swung open the living room door to find jenna sat on the floor, putting a few neatly wrapped presents in some gift bags. You also couldn’t help but notice the living room covered in sparkly confetti and baloons. Your jaw dropped slightly as jenna turned around and her eyes widened with excitement as she ran up to hug you. “Goodmorning! Happy birthday!!!” She exclaimed “Thankyou! This is really sweet” you said with a smile “ofcourse! You deserve it!” You looked around at the hard work jenna had put in, but you smiled to yourself as you saw two empty cans of energy drink placed on the coffe table “how long have you been up?” You asked “a few hours.. but that doesn’t matter! It’s your birthday!!” She exclaimed again. You rolled your eyes jokingly and giggled as she added “and.. we’re gonna get your favourite for breakfast… maccdonalds breakfast!!” Your smile widened “yess!!” And you sat down with her on the sofa as ienna pulled out her phone and started adding a lot of food items to the menu. You couldn’t help but giggle that Jenna ordered 2 coffees and very sugary items.

After you finsishrd the delivery driver was estimated to be around 30 minutes. Perfect.

“So what are you waiting for? Open your presents!” You noticed a lot of neatly wrapped gifts and sparky gift barks. Even a sash with “happy birthday” written in big, bold, gold letters. You smiled. Jenna was so sweet, she really didn’t have to do all of this. You couldn’t have asked for a better girlfriend. She was the best gift you could have ever received. Your eyes darted at the array of gifts, debating what one to open first. You started with a box shaped present after seeing a hand written note saying “to my beautiful girlfriend, I love you more then anything. I hope i can make you have the best day and give you everything you deserve and more, love from your favourite, jenna” you excitedly teared open the bright pink wrapping paper to reveal a Pandora box with a silk ribbon tied to the box. You unfolded the Ribon and carefully opened the box to reveal a silver necklace with an infinity sign and heart attached to it. Your heart melted. “Jenna! Oh my god! This is adorable!” You threw your arms around her again and grabbing her cheeks before kissing her. “Thankyou so much, i Love you more then anything” you said in a more gentle tone as jenna just smiled at you before saying “ofcourse, anything for you, but that’s not just it!” You raised your brow and realised there was another box inside the bag, this one relatively the same size but it was another Pandora box. You opened the second box to find a silver Pandora bracelet with matching charms and a few extra, like a pink crystal and a star. your eyes grew. “Jenna!!” She giggled “you really didn’t have to do this!” You said, overcome with emotion. “Well duh, ofcourse i did, It’s your birthday!” She ended that sweet sentence with a kiss to your cheek. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you” you smiled, happy was a colossal understatement. You spent a few more minutes opening the rest of the gifts from family and friends and placing them all on the coffee table and all of the cards on the shelf.

You let out a sigh, not a sad sigh, more of a “that was so fun” sigh as you sat down on the sofa. Ofcourse, Jenna took this as an invite to sit right beside you, cuddling you and embracing your warmth. Since you were both still in your fluffy pjs you were both very snuggly. “You know..” she said with a small giggle. “Oh I dont like were this is going” you said with a returned giggle. “Well, you know how people give each-other birthday bumps?” She said very randomly. “Yesss?” You said with another giggle, this time more curious and you debated wether you should be slightly concerned. “Well, maybe we should make our own version!” She said cheerfully. “What do you mean by that?” You said not completely understanding, but intrigued by the idea. “Well, when people do birthday bumps they punch the person in the arm, how old they are indicated how many punches they get.. but! We should do something similar but not with punches!” She carefully explained and loved the fact you were actually on board with her idea. “Hm.. okay! You got any ideas?” You asked. “Hmm.. well.. maybe just a few pokes! It’s playfull enough but also harmlessss..” she trailed off giving you a smile that you could never resist. “Okay! I like the sound of that!” You said, challenging her slightly. She then sat up, sitting opposite you. “Great! 20 pokes for the birthday girlll~” she said as she began poking your arm. It started of fine but then she moved down your arm as she got to poke number 5 and shortly enough her prodding finger reached your side and poke number 6. You immediately jumped at the touch and let out a high-pitched shriek as your natural reaction was to put your hands out to try and cover/protect your sides.

“Oh?” Jenna snickered with a knowing smile. “I- jehenna!!” You said trying to wipe the stupid smile of your face and the small blush that appeared across your cheeks. “Forget the pokes! I Almost forgot how ticklish your were!” She said before reaching her hand out to scribble at your side for a second. “JEHENNA!” You jumped and tried to bat at her hand “THIHIS ISNT FAHAIR” you said as you fell onto your back from giggling intensely. “This is fair! Instead of pokes you just get tickles.. actually what number was we at? 6?.. oh! That looks like 14 more minutes of tickles for you!” She teased as she then sat on top of your thighs, just below your hips and used both her hands to scribble into your sides. Her fingers moving at a rapid pace. “14 MINUTES?” You coughed out “ILL DIHIEE!!” Jenna thought about it for a second, she thought about the fun she would have and thought of the consequences for afterwards. “Okay, fine! 2 minutes!” She said, Coming to an agreement with you. “FIHIHINE!!” You said reluctantly through your blabbering laughter. She smirked to herself. “Oh? You actually agreed!! .. I mean.. I’m just taking a wild guess here but maybe you agreed because you don’t mind this?” She said with a very teasing and mischievous tone. “SHUHUT UHUPP!!” Was your best comeback because your mind was to scrambled and fuzzy to think of any quick-witted answers. Jenna just snickered to herself “well, I guess I better make these 2 minutes count!” She said before crawling her hands to your stomach she then started clawing into your stomach at full force. “AHAHAHHAHAHAHAH OH MY GOHODD!!” You wriggled as best as you could but you and Jenna both knew there was no escaping.

Jenna then sneakily dipped her hand under your fluffy pj shirt and began wiggling her fingers onto your sensitive, bare stomach. You squealed again before falling into another round of heavy laughter. “AHAHAH FUHUCK!! HOHOW LONG HAS IT BEHEHEENN?” You asked, Not desperate for it to stop, you were just over dramatic. But rightfully so, you were way to ticklish for your own good. “30 seconds” she giggled.”NOHO IT HAS NO- HAHAHHAHA” your own sentences were cut of by your abrupt, explosive laughter.

Jennas nimber fingers then moved to your worst spot. The spot that made you cry with laughter. The spot that was just in the brink of unbearable. And what made it worse was that she said exacrly 1 minute and 12 seconds to target it. As she slowly lowered her hands they finally stopped at their destination. Your hips. Your eyes widened in mostly fear, but with a twinge of excitement as your stomach was swarmed with butterflies. “Jenna.. c-come on..” she evilly smirked on-top of you. She didn’t exactly say anything, but she didn’t need to. Your reaction was enough to give her the get go that she so desperately wanted. She then started to lightly trace her nails around your hips causing you to let out the most soft, adorable giggles with the most beaming smile. “I- ahahahha- o-oh my gohohoddd..” Jenna then started to speed up her fingers, little by little untill her fingers were at full speed, racing across your hips. “AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! FUHUHUCKKK!! JEEHEHENNAAA” your mind couldn’t concentrate on any other thought but how much that this tickled. The sensation flowing through your body. “Oh you really are so ticklish y/n” she mused seeing you wiggle about in helpless laughter. “AHAHAHAH SHUHUT UHUPP” she continued to use her black-painted finger nails to absolutely wreck your hips making you react with erupting laughter and piercing squeals. But as quickly as it started jennas time was up.

“Oh my god! That was so fun!!” She smiled, clearly very proud of herself and slightly smug. “Y-yeah.. if you say so..” you said, half-agreeing but refusing to admit to her that you also enjoyed that. But luckily unfortunately for you, Jenna could see right through you. “Oh come on, you know you enjoyed that!” She said smugly. “Shut up. As if!” You refused to let her mischievous and cocky demeanour get to you. “whatever you say, birthday girl.. but we both know you didn’t completely hate that” okay, that one was kind of hard to ignore. “I- s-shut up! I’m.. im Gonna go get a Glass of water” you said trying to change the subject but also because all of the laughing dried your throat out . “No! I- i mean.. don’t.. not atleast untill the delivery is here.. please?” Jenna said hopefully. You raised an eyebrow as your suspicion was now at a peak. But you decided to listen anyway. “Okay..” ding dong. Talk about perfect timing?

“That will be our food!” Jenna jumped out of her seat and scurried to the front door to collect your food. “Thankyou!” She said befire shutting the door and looking back to see you stand in the doorway. “Follow me!” She said excitedly again and opened the kitchen door. To wich you did follow her and when you entered the kitchen you were met with another surprise. On the island counter was a vase full of pink and white tulips with an enveloped card at the bottom with plates already layed out for the both of you on the island. You eyes watered. You didn’t know how much more of this you could take. It was do sweet and thoughtful and you couldn’t wrap to mind around what you did to deserve all of this. Jenna was just looking back. Her grin also beaming as she watched you become estatic but also emotional. She opened her arms again, warping then gently around you as you were absolutely lost for words. “Happy birthday, I love you more then you could ever know.”

#tickle content #tickle #sfw tickle #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #jenna ortega #ticklish y/n #jenna ortega ler #jenna Ortega tickle #Lee y/n

[quillyfied]

Okay final episode thoughts that I don’t know that I can expand into real coherent thoughts so heck it we’re doing it live and cramming them together, no chronology just memory vibes, PART FOUR:

- I think part of the problem of it feeling so fast an episode, for me, is the anticipation; I waited to watch it with friends and by the time it was finally happening I had been waiting all day and it was killing me.

- That being said, the pace is breakneck, for something that starts so peacefully

- Love that we get immediate confirmation that Ed is not suited to a fisherman’s life. Though I do love the conflict inherent in Ed meaning “simple” as a compliment based on how hectic and chaotic his life has been up to this point, but of course someone who doesn’t know any of that would think he’s insulting them.

- Also very interested in the shift of Ed going to direct killing rather than trying to put a layer between it and himself; it’s the Kraken but in Protection Mode. Adore that for him. (And maybe the killing doesn’t count if they’re English Navy.)

- I had a feeling Stede was talking to Zheng about being a failure the longer the season went on. Delighted to be proven right. Was also shocked to hear she thought Auntie was dead but then had to reckon with the fact that she hasn’t analyzed a single screenshot and spotted Auntie like I did soooooo

- The simmering anger in my own gut when I saw Spanish Jackie’s overrun and the lady herself treated like that. Also OF COURSE THEY BUILD UP RESISTANCES TO IOCANE POWDER POISON IN THIS HOUSE

- (Side note but the number of ofmd fics, my own included, that have Princess Bride as a reference or element in them makes me smile)

- Calling Ricky Pinocchio. IZZY calling Ricky Pinocchio. The layers. The subtext. The intertextuality. The face-value humor. I’m salivating.

- The letter Ed reads! The way they say the words together!! If they don’t start next season with matching lover’s tattoos (or include it somewhere), I’m rioting.

- THEY GET TO RUN AT EACH OTHER ON A BEACH TO NINA SIMONE FOR REAL THIS TIME

- okay but is Ed’s knee brace a victim of the budget cuts this season bc I miss it

- the entire time they were running at each other I kept shrieking “please don’t stab each other. Please don’t stab each other. Boys please drop the swords and don’t accidentally stab each other”

- KISSIES.

- I LOVE YOU. TWICE.

- Zheng having it up to HERE with these useless gays

- NOT NOW ZHENG THEYRE VERBALLY AFFIRMING THEIR CARE FOR EACH OTHER AND ALSO KISSING

- Olu caring for Auntie. I cry.

- I also cry bc it has seemed to me all season that Auntie and Zheng have a dynamic similar to Izzy and Ed but less deeply toxic; I love that just because it isn’t as toxic, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t still hurt them both. Auntie choosing to listen to Olu and be softer and more open with Zheng, and Zheng returning the favor, is so important to me. Cannot emphasize enough its sweetness. Especially with Zheng thinking she’d lost Auntie.

- “It’s only a suicide plan if we die” STEDE.

- Giggling to myself at the butt shot bc 1. Of course the guy whose butt it is has a whole post about it where he’s a delight, and 2. Fandom has been begging for them to show hole all season, y’all satisfied? ;P

- Why does everyone look so hot in those uniforms though. Why is Ed putting on a tricorn hat so attractive. These are uniforms that represent imperialist cruelty, WHY IS EVERYONE HOT IN THEM

- (It’s the rebellion of it all I think)

- Awfully bold of Ricky to immediately turn on them when he’s still close enough to be shot, but I think it’s his Rich White Boy recklessness.

- Con O’Niell giving the performance of a lifetime to the very end. The subtlety of Izzy not being okay through the entire mad dash to the Revenge, culminating in him leaning on Ed AND Frenchie and the implications of that I EXPLODE

- So. Turns out my final mini theory about that bloody hand screenshot from the trailer was right; it is Izzy’s blood, and it is Jim that Ed’s hand is blocking.

- Izzy giving the apology we have been waiting for all season as a deathbed confession, HECK

- And giving voice to the fact that he loved and needed Blackbeard! And that he knew he was feeding it even though Ed had OUTGROWN it!! And giving Ed closure and release from having to be Blackbeard!!! GUUUUUHHHHH.

- I really didn’t think izzy was going to die until three days ago. Im so sad. It’s thematic and perfect and if someone had to die of course it had to be Izzy and they did him right by that death scene but I CARE MORE NOW. CHEFS KISS STORYTELLING.

- This end bit, to my memory, feels a little scattered and messy; Zheng wanting to work together to get back at Ricky…and then the ship sails off without Ed and Stede. Maybe I need to watch again but I got some whiplash there. Like yeah it’s way more important to the story that Ed and Stede get at the very least a break from piracy before the next season, more in line with the themes and character arcs, but. Idk. Felt sudden still?

- Pete and Lucius marriage ;A; “you may slash each other’s faces” ROACH PLEASE

- YES ED WE SEE YOUR ROMANTIC SIDE EYE

- FRENCHIE IS THE CAPTAIN NOW. Capitalizing on that quiet arc he’s had all season!! I love it!!! And showing that all of the Revenge crew have it in them to be leaders and the best versions of themselves when given an environment where they can. And now they have capable women aboard! Win-win!!

- I need to go dig up my post about the hollowness and toxicity of revenge in this show bc I have more examples to add to it and strengthen my theory

- Ed and Stede about to go through their Anne and Mary arc. Let’s hope they pivot faster than the other two and don’t get stuck in a rut the same way. But I love that they get to try this out together, to find new dreams and things to do together. They deserve that.

- I also respect the showrunners so much for giving us an ending that could be a decent end if Max doesn’t renew for a third. I like being able to hold my two favorite shows next to each other and see that the two extremes of ending in an uncertain place work—for GOmens, a heart-shattering cliffhanger was absolutely the right call. For OFMD, a soft ending that can be expanded on if allowed. I love them both.

- Gonna go rewatch and then rewatch the whole season and then rewatch both seasons, excuse me.

#our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #I weep. I cry. I sob. #what a good. WHAT A GOOD.

[yeeterthek33per]

So Glennon and Abby just released the We Can Do Hard things episode with Christen Press, so for those of you who have trouble listening to podcasts but love reading, here's a copy and paste of the transcript from the episode. Abby is in bold, glennon will be italics and christen will be both. (FYI, this took so fucking long because my phone hates me but all credits go to the We Can Do Hard Things Websites transcriptor.)

Abby Wambach:

Is she okay? What’s happening right now?

Glennon Doyle:

Because you had never seen anyone meditate before.

Abby Wambach:

Well, she was meditating.

Glennon Doyle:

Right, right, right, right. Obviously, yeah.

Abby Wambach:

And it was the first time I had seen somebody do that in real life, in the national team environment. So, I think I tried to be quiet.

Glennon Doyle:

Checked her pulse first.

Abby Wambach:

And that was impossible. So eventually, you came to and I think I probably asked you about it and was super curious, because I think I’ve always been very curious in that spiritual space. What happened next was actually quite interesting because it developed an intimidation. I was intimidated by you because you had this part in you that you were exploring that I wished that I could explore in myself.

Glennon Doyle:

Because she wasn’t asking you for advice.

Abby Wambach:

That’s right.

Glennon Doyle:

She was looking inside herself. That’s what drove you nuts.

Abby Wambach:

Yeah.

Glennon Doyle:

Did you know that you have always intimidated Abby Wambach?

Christen Press:

No, this is news to me. News to me. I have definitely startled quite a few roommates with my meditation practice, especially early on in the national team because I’m pretty quiet. So, I didn’t tell people I was going to meditate. They just found me that way. But this is news to me that I ever intimidated you because I quite certainly was going through the same thing on my end, but maybe for different reasons.

Abby Wambach:

Yeah. I just thought it was so cool for such a young kid to come into the environment like the national team and to actually do your own thing. It was super common for all of us, myself included, to just assimilate and just do whatever anybody else is doing and just try to do it harder and more. I just love that memory of you and it solidified this deep respect, even though people don’t understand this about the national team, we are close, but we’re also competing against each other for time on the field. And that time on the field has repercussions in lots of different ways.

Glennon Doyle:

Pod squad, just think about that. You’re hanging out with your best friends in a room and then somebody blows a whistle and it’s like everybody run and one of you have to win. Imagine.

Christen Press:

We don’t have to imagine, we lived that. I still live that.

Glennon Doyle:

It’s so wild. Okay, Christen Press is a two time World Cup champion and Olympian. I’m sorry, I’m just imagining racing all of my friends. As well as a leading forward at Los Angeles Angel City FC. An entrepreneur, an advocate for inclusivity, Christen, along with her US women’s national teammates, Megan Rapinoe, Tobin Heath and Megan Klingberg, launched their company re-inc, a purpose driven global lifestyle brand.

Glennon Doyle:

A leader, both on and off the field, Christen was one of the key players leading the charge for the equal play equal pay campaign, to highlight the pay discrepancy between the women’s and men’s national teams, which led to the new agreement and to her role as player representative for the US Women’s National Team Players Association. Christen Press welcome to We Can Do hard Things. You do a lot of hard things.

Christen Press:

Thank you for having me. I am so happy to be here and thanks for that very lovely introduction.

Glennon Doyle:

So Christen, you weren’t always just Spirit Spice, you used to be Stressy Spice.

Christen Press:

You know me.

Glennon Doyle:

Yeah.

Glennon Doyle:

In college you actually talked about being miserable playing soccer, that you used to cry on the field that you constantly felt like you weren’t good enough. Can you take us back to that time and talk to us about what playing soccer was like for you then?

Christen Press:

Yeah, I have so many thoughts from your story, Abby, just swirling in my head of where to begin. But to go back to the beginning, I grew up in Southern California, which is a hotbed for women’s soccer, in a very competitive family and I’m a middle child, so I was vying for the attention of my parents my whole life. And soccer was the way that I thought I was going to get that. And I think many people experience in sport, this idea that if you win a game, you’ll be satisfied, or if you score a goal, then your parents are going to be satisfied, or it’ll help their life, or their relationship. So, I think my introduction to sport was in a really quite toxic and quite pressure ridden environment, where I thought that my worth and my value was dependent on my performance.

Christen Press:

It’s the typical sports story. I think so many people go through that, but it didn’t work for me. It didn’t work for my wellbeing. It didn’t make my parents happy ultimately, but it also didn’t allow me to be my best. And so actually, the better I got, the worse it was for me and that was all the way through college. And through college, I saw some of my teammates start to make the national team. We obviously experienced this huge boom in women’s soccer, where it became really important and there was glory to be had. And so with that, the pressure of getting a scholarship and going to college, and scoring in college, the pressure got bigger and bigger. It was make the national team, be the best player. And so, the closer I got, the worse it was. That was my experience in college and I started seeing some of my teammates on the national team and I started to feel for the first time in my career that I wasn’t reaching those dreams, that I wasn’t able to be the best player, that I wasn’t getting that call up, and I was drowning in that.

Christen Press:

I think both my parents were so invested in my career that they began to drown in this idea of, I wouldn’t be happy unless I got there. And then I was feeling like they wouldn’t be happy unless I got there. And actually, this is how my meditation practice was born. My little sister also played up to college soccer and she had a lot harder of a time than I did, struggled with mental illness, hated soccer, got sick when she played, so much anxiety.

Christen Press:

So, in her own journey, she went to meditation to try to find a way to cope with the stresses of her life and started a meditation practice and then convinced our whole family we should all do it together. That’s how my family is. So, we all go to this guru to learn how to meditate.

Glennon Doyle:

No way.

Christen Press:

Yep, and now my sister’s a meditation instructor. So, this is her whole life. That’s when I found my meditation practice. And of course, so much applied to sport, the meditative nature of letting things go, letting thoughts come in and go out. It’s so applicable when you’re on the field, when you miss a shot, let it go and just training your brain to be focused. So, it was really applicable to me in a concrete way, but ultimately what happened is once I started to let go in a larger sense of these dreams, of these accolades, of these need to succeed, I started playing way better, and it was like a breath of fresh air.

Christen Press:

Also, at the same time, the women’s league that was then folded, so there was no place for me to play. I was out of college and I went to Sweden, where I was putting a huge distance between all of those expectations and all of the people who had expectations and me and those two things happened at the same time. Learned to meditate, started playing just for the love of it and gave up on my dream of making the national team, just said, “It’s never going to happen.” But the current coach for the national team was in Sweden and I was there for two months before I got my first call up. And so, in my mind, I always say it was the scenic route to the national team.

Glennon Doyle:

So, hold on a second. So pod squad, listen, she goes to Sweden. She’s like, “Screw it, league folded. So, I’m just going to go to Sweden and actually have joy playing and play … ” like you say, like no one’s watching. And the national team coach happened to be watching because she is Swedish.

Abby Wambach:

Yep.

Glennon Doyle:

Holy crap. Okay, so then she calls you and is like, “Actually you are going to be on the national team. Surprise, surprise.” And you’re like, “Shit.”

Christen Press:

I wish it was all that easy. It was she called and said, “You have a snowball’s chance in hell of being on the national team, but you’re going to get a chance.” And what I was waiting for was that chance. And so, I think that’s the reason that when I came into the national team, I came with this determination to stay true to myself because I knew that the traditional competitive pressure, that type of culture of American sports, did not get me to the national team, so it wasn’t going to keep me on the national team.

Abby Wambach: 

Whoa.

Christen Press:

And so, it was actually quite hard socially because it’s easier when you fit in and when you follow, and as a young player being like, “I have to be me,” that put a divide between me and a lot of people off the field, but I knew it was what I had to do to be well and to be successful.

Glennon Doyle:

So, besides meditating, what are you talking about when you say I had to be true to myself and that causes divides?

Christen Press:

I think it was just overall approach to training, to what I thought made me tick, to putting myself in environments that were right for me, even if it made other people uncomfortable, like meditating in my room with a roommate, that’s actually quite uncomfortable. Doing my own recovery when the group was doing something else and me feeling like this worked. I actually remember Abby, I have a memory of you asking Lauren Cheney Holiday, who was my friend on the team, one of my first friends on the team. “Oh, does Christen just like being alone.” She told me that you said that because I was always off doing my own thing. And I think that that is what made me feel like I had to do that to be there. But then there was a little bit of dissonance between how I was behaving and what was expected for a new player on the team because I’m entering this group where everyone’s amazing and they’re at the top of their game and there’s so much to learn from them. And there was this little sense of, “Does she not think she needs to learn from us because she’s doing it her own way?”

Abby Wambach:

Yeah. I remember that, when I walked into the room and I saw you meditating, that was in and around the same time that I was reading Susan Cain’s book, Quiet, because Becky Sauerbrunn was also on the team and she’s this raging introvert and I couldn’t connect with her. I felt like me and her were oil and water and I was trying-

Glennon Doyle:

Like me and you, yeah.

Abby Wambach:

Yeah. Yes, it’s ironic, very ironic that I’ve married a raging introvert. But I just think that I hope you know, that what you did, was you freed so many other people to come into that environment and to feel a little bit, maybe not fully, but a little bit more confident in doing their thing. And so, you see some of these players expressing themselves in all the kinds of ways. I actually deeply believed Christen, that you were a really big revolutionary when it comes to that, because it’s so much harder to do what you did than to do what I did, where I just stepped in. I was like, “Okay, Mia Hamm, I’ll do whatever you want. How do you want me to jump? I’ll do it.”

Abby Wambach:

I just want you to know that there’s so much respect there. Even if there was a feeling of dissonance or disconnection at times, there was for me, at least I can speak for myself. I always respected the hell out of you for making that choice. Because I knew that it was a harder road, maybe a more lonely road too. So, I think it’s really amazing.

Glennon Doyle:

And it’s hopeful to all of us who are … So many times we talk on the podcast about how do we introvert sensitive people, Spirit Spices? How do we function inside of cultures that are so American, so cutthroat, and churning, and even capital … all of it, just … So Christen, I want to ask, you talk about how you were in a cycle when you were young about trying to impress your parents that you thought they’d never be happy unless you were great. They thought you wouldn’t be happy unless you were great. You talk about the pursuit of greatness that your family had. Do you believe in the pursuit of greatness and what are the downfalls of chasing greatness? Would that be a theme of your chosen … The family you have one day, would you choose chasing greatness as a family value?

Christen Press:

100%. But I think it depends on your definition of greatness, because I hear a little bit of your answer in your question.

Glennon Doyle:

The answer is no, so you’ve already failed.

Christen Press:

But I think for me, the pursuit of greatness, while it caused anxiety and stress, and it caused me to lose myself, it’s also what caused me to find myself again. And it pushed me out of my comfort level to be true to me and ultimately this old cliche, the journey’s the destination, but that’s only true if you’re trying to get somewhere and that’s for me, the pursuit of greatness. I can take my injury right now, where there’s this idea that a successful recovery is a speedy recovery, or there’s an idea that I need to get to a certain place. I need to get back, I need to do these things, these milestones. I reject that. I reject that it needs to be a speedy recovery. I reject that I need to be on this certain pace, but in order for me to find value, it’s in the intention of my journey and my journey is to grow and to get better every day and to be well, and then to share that as I can with other people around me as an energy, as a lifestyle.

Christen Press:

If I was satisfied with where I was, where I can’t run currently, I can’t do things, if I satisfied, that’s not peace. So, I think it’s that intent to be moving, to be growing. That is greatness. I think it is helpful to have a target, and I am very goal oriented. Every day I write down, “This is my goal for the day. This is what I want to achieve.” I just have to be able to have peace when I don’t get there, but I don’t ever want to stop writing down that goal. I don’t ever want to stop pursuing greatness. I just want to balance that with acceptance of what ultimately happens.

Abby Wambach:

I think that’s so interesting because so many people in the world probably believe that spirituality and this desire for greatness can’t be put together, that they’re mutually exclusive. But I think what you’re saying is that there’s more nuance to that, in that not just your recovery, but you can be a multitude of things. You can have a path, spiritual or not, and also want to chase this kind of excellence and greatness that you get to define every single day. I think that that’s really interesting.

Glennon Doyle:

Do you have any advice because there’s a lot of parents that listen, we are now part of soccer land with children, so we spend all of our life on the sidelines of the soccer and-

Abby Wambach:

It’s a slow hell.

Glennon Doyle:

… the parents are un-effing-believable. Christen, you may have experienced some of this in your lifetime, but we actually started bringing blow pops to-

Abby Wambach:

Sidelines.

Glennon Doyle:

… sidelines, and just shoving them in parents’ mouths when they started screaming, just going down the sideline, just we would call it, start sucking to stop sucking. Just put the lollipop in your mouth and it will remind you to shut up.

Christen Press:

Oh, that’s amazing.

Glennon Doyle:

It’s amazing to see parents lose themselves. I do it too. Do you have any advice for how to parent children who are pursuing greatness, without having them feel like their worth depends on it, or their relationship or their connection with their parents depends on it? Anything you wish would’ve happened or do you ever think about that?

Christen Press:

Yeah, I can only give parenting advice from the perspective of the child, obviously, but I think it was somewhere along the line, I felt like I was forgotten about. And at one point, it was, “Christen wants this, so we want this.” And then I think that I was cut out of the equation. It was like, “We want this.” And it wasn’t until my mom got sick, that she and I were able to overcome that struggle in our relationship. I have a memory, years before my mom was sick, where I was working in my spirituality, on my meditation practice, working with a few people. And the theme of this journey that I was on was surrender. And it helped you identify what it was that you wanted the most. And then you had to let go of it. I was already on the national team, so I was an adult. And I remember in a hotel in the national team, getting on my hands and knees every morning and saying, “I surrender the need for my mother’s approval.” And because as a full grown adult-

Glennon Doyle:

Oh, yes.

Christen Press:

… still needing to feel that it was for her, that I was playing for her. And I almost lost my own love of the game because of that. And through that time, I shared that experience with my mother and it was like we both had this aha moment, where one day I was on my hands and knees and I got up and I was like, “What if I’m wrong? What if she hasn’t forgotten about me? What if she actually already loves me and accepts me? What if she actually thinks I’m amazing? And I am the one who’s miscalibrating and I’m projecting all my own fears on her, and I’m saying, ‘She forgot about me. She has these goals for soccer,\ but what if that’s me?” And it just hit me that my mom already accepted me and it hit her that I didn’t need some of these things that she thought I needed and we both were able to move on from that.

Christen Press:

So, it’s really roundabout way of giving advice. But I think the key to it is acceptance and showing all people that you care, whether they’re your parent, or your child, or your friend, or your lover, that you accept them for who they are and meeting people as full people, not just as career people, because ultimately, that’s what was my deepest need, was to be accepted by my mother. I thought that that meant for so many years, I had to be a great player. I had to be on the national team, I had to do these things, but it really has nothing to do with that. It has to do with who you are, what’s at your core, what you’re striving for, and what that means to the other person and what it means to the world.

Glennon Doyle:

So, you’ve done your career differently. You do things differently and pod squad, you just have to watch the soccer game and just you just watch her on the field, it’s just different things. I don’t know, she just floats and flits about, and then somehow the ball goes in the goal, so you just have to watch her, but it’s different. And another thing that’s different is I watched how you did grief differently, when you lost your mother, who you love so, so very much. You actually signed with Angel City and then took a mental health break, right?

Christen Press:

Yes, I did.

Glennon Doyle:

I didn’t even know why at the time. I was just like, “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard.” But can you tell us why and what you did during that time?

Christen Press:

Yeah. So, a big part of it was the emotional journey that I went on with my mom. She was healthy one day and then deeply sick the next and had about three months where she was very sick and then she passed. And in those three months, I feel like we lived 30 years in terms of our relationship and our conversations, and a big part of it was acceptance of each other and this fear that we both had, that the other person didn’t love us, or didn’t respect us, or didn’t accept us. We went through that and my mom cared so much about me and about soccer. She just loved it and she was so invested. And actually, I was with the national team in Spain, in January of 2019, and I scored in that game in Spain and I got back on a flight the next day and flew home and my mom had brain bleed when I was on the flight. And I actually never saw her again. And as soon as I walked into the hospital room where my family was, my dad said, “The last exchange I had with your mom was showing her your goal and she was so happy.” So, that gives you a sense of how deeply tied my whole family is to my career, that it meant so much to my dad that that was his last interaction with my mom.

Christen Press:

So, that was January, 2019. I had missed a lot of camp when my mom was sick and it was a World Cup year. So, I took a little bit of time and I just went straight back into it, and we were preparing for a World Cup. We had our pay equity lawsuit. There was just so much happening and I’m a very emotional person. I’m very dramatic, I’ve been this my whole life. So, I process things in big ways, in big moments, but I’m generally not sad. I’m generally not mopey or tired. I just have these outbursts of emotion, and then I bounce back. And so that’s how I was dealing with my grief. It was these big dramatic moments and then I’d get back to practice, and get back to life. And that went through the World Cup and all the way, honestly, for years.

Christen Press:

It went on through COVID, it went on through the Olympics, and I started to think, why did my grieving experience look so different from my sister’s or from other peoples? And there’s this weird comparison that happens, which isn’t fair, but can’t help but do it. And I was like, “This doesn’t feel right.” I reflected on it and I was like, “I never took a break. I never processed, I never stopped.” I didn’t feel like it was killing me, but I felt like I was missing something, some sort of next step, some sort of clarity, and almost like a growth in my relationship with my mom that I saw in front of me.

Glennon Doyle:

Wow.

Christen Press:

Well, obviously the period of playing soccer through COVID was really hard and difficult and the Olympics was really special and difficult, and it was like all this pressure was just mounting on me and I’ve always done it my own way. I’ve always been on the national team in my own way. I remember when I had this revelation that it was like, “I’ve done this consistently since 2012. It is now 2021 and I need some perspective and I need time to grieve. And my relationship with my mom is so tied to soccer, I need to not have soccer to understand where that leaves like me and my mom.”

Christen Press:

Yeah, you’re probably catching onto this, I feel like my relationship with my mom is ongoing and it’s something that I do cultivate now. So, it was like, I need to have my relationship with my mom without soccer for this period of time. In that same moment where I was like, “I’m going to take four months off,” I also had this feeling of competitiveness that it was like, I can do this. I can show a good way. I can help release some of this pressure that I’m sure other athletes are feeling and I will come back and I will be better. And it will be a good thing for the world, to show that you can do this. That was last fall and I then spent four months traveling and living my best life.

Christen Press:

I became a pilgrim and I went on El Camino de Santiago and I just walked everywhere, I traveled all these places and I really worked on my relationship with my mother, my relationship with myself, my identity without soccer and where all those pieces fit. I think I had this fear because I had such a toxic relationship with soccer for so long, that I would never want to come back. I never felt like that. The whole time I was like, “This is this moment and there will be another moment.” Now it’s an interesting thing to reflect on because obviously, I came back for a few months and then had my first major injury. And so there’s this feeling of, this probably never would’ve happened, if I hadn’t taken four months off. I can just say that.

Christen Press:

I don’t have regret, I’m not that type of person, but I just think that’s the facts. But the question is, did I gain more anyway? Did that help prepare me for this, for this next journey? I think in so many ways, the way I grew, I imagined myself so often just taking step after, step on El Camino with nothing to burden me, but just taking the next step and the simplicity of that and the profound effect it had in its most basic form of living, just letting your foot kiss the ground, that’s all you had to do. I feel like it shaped everything that I am from this point forward. And it prepared me for so much, but it came with the big risk of my place on the national team, my ability to compete at the highest level, a little bit of fear of maybe I never even liked this sport and I just did it for somebody else. What if that was my revelation?

Glennon Doyle:

What if I realize I hate it?

Abby Wambach:

That’s worse case.

Christen Press:

That’s scary.

Glennon Doyle:

That’s why most people don’t stop their lives. Christen.

Abby Wambach:

That’s right.

Christen Press:

I know.

Glennon Doyle:

That’s why most of us don’t stop our lives because we’re afraid of thinking.

Christen Press:

No, probably my biggest fear was that I would realize I hated it and never want to go back.

Abby Wambach:

And then the universe is so beautiful, giving you … and I know that maybe you’re not here yet, but as soon as I heard you got injured, I thought, “Oh, this is going to be interesting to see how she processes this.” It’s like the universe’s little joke. Like, “Ooh, let’s see how you handle this little bit.” I’m going to show you, give you an opportunity to even question it even a little bit more, because-

Christen Press:

Exactly.

Abby Wambach:

… what the fuck did you not learn on the El Camino that you still-

Glennon Doyle:

It wasn’t a long enough hike, Christen. Listen, we’ve had Cheryl Strayed on. We’ll hook you up, you just need a longer hike.

Christen Press:

I mean, that’s exactly, exactly how I reacted. I was like, I had this plan. I was going to leave soccer and then I was going to come back and show everyone.

Glennon Doyle:

Of course.

Christen Press:

And then it just got blown up in my face. And I was like, “No, I already did the hard part.” And now the hard part’s ahead of me. So, it is, it’s the twisted nature of life.

Glennon Doyle:

Can you talk to us about what you mean when you say my ongoing relationship with my mother? My whole heart just jumped when you said that. Can you just tell us what you mean and how that shows up in your life and what you’re doing and what that relationship is?

Christen Press:

Yes. So, when my mom passed, I got really good advice from a family friend. And he said to me, reflecting on his own experience of losing his mother, that the moment that she died, she was with him forever. And while he was alive, you have to go physically see people. But when someone’s no longer alive, you never have to travel to see them, they’re always there. That articulation is exactly what my experience has been. It’s hard. Relationships are really hard when people are alive and you have to do these things to make sure you feel like you’re prioritizing them, making them feel loved, all these things. And I was like, it was just completely gone. I never had to get on a flight. I never had to make a phone call. My mom was just always with me and because of this journey that she and I went on, I felt like I learned what I’ll call Stacy 2.0, my mom’s name Stacy, was Stacy 2.0, which was a mother that didn’t care about me as an athlete. She just cared about me as a human and that’s who I met and that’s the person I get to continue to cultivate a relationship with.

Christen Press:

So sometimes, when things are going wrong or hard and I feel like, “Oh, I’ve failed and I’ve let these people down.” I’m like, “No, no.” I can even look up to the sky and I’m like, “My mom is here and she doesn’t care about this.” That was something I learned that was wrong, and I’ve now unlearned it. I have this relationship with my mom that’s growing because I can still revert to those old pathways where I’m like, “I missed the goal. My mom must be disappointed.” And now I’m trying to cultivate this new pathway that is when you’re omnipresent and when you’re transcendental, which I think is what happens in a way when you pass, there is no limited human nature.

Christen Press:

And so, I get to experience this relationship with my mom where I know 1000%, she’s proud of me, that she accepts me and I get to live my life with that freedom, and I get to talk to her in a way that I often couldn’t when she was alive, because I had fear of my flaws, fear of her flaws. And now the fear is gone, because she sees me at my worst. There’s no hiding from her. When you’re kid, you’re trying to hide everything from your mom. There’s no hiding anymore. And that’s the relationship that I cultivate and it’s a daily thing, a conversation with my mom and a understanding of each other.

Abby Wambach:

Oh my gosh, it’s like-

Glennon Doyle:

That’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard.

Abby Wambach:

I know. I’m crying over here because so many people I know, especially in the LGBTQ space, struggle in many ways, or have struggled with their parents, and the approval of their parents. And I’m just so afraid. I’ve been so afraid of when my parents die, that there will be all this stuff that’s undone. And what you’ve just done is make me feel so much less afraid of that because of your experience. That is such a life giving …

Glennon Doyle:

No more human nature, that’s so good. No more fear, no more … All of that gone and just pure love.

Abby Wambach:

Took my breath away.

Christen Press:

And pure love, that’s it.

Abby Wambach:

Also, I just want to say this. When you stepped away from the game, much like Simone Biles did from the Olympics, the pod squad might not know how revolutionary that is in sport to say, “No, my mental health is going to take priority over this team, over this country, over this medal,” or whatever it is. And I think you and Simone show that it’s possible to step away and come back. I just remember feeling so jealous. Whoa, they get to take care of themselves fully? I mean, it was always an option. I just never took it. I just think that it’s another way you’ve shown your courage, to take that relentless pursuit … For me, your relentless pursuit of your own personal greatness.

Glennon Doyle:

That’s what it was.

Abby Wambach:

Is just so rare.

Glennon Doyle:

So Christen, you’ve already solved death for us, so could we just get, I want to move on to another one-

Abby Wambach:

Solved death.

Glennon Doyle:

… I just feel like we have 20 more minutes, we can solve a couple other things. Because if we can solve death, the rest has to be easy, right? I mean, for real. Death has always-

Abby Wambach:

I’m sweating.

Glennon Doyle:

… still been a problem, ’till now.

Abby Wambach:

I know, I’m sweating, how much that was profound.

Glennon Doyle:

So, I want to talk to you about suffering because I have heard and read you say that you do not choose to suffer, right? That you are unlearning suffering. What I want to say about that is that that is blasphemy in this country. That it is the religious way, the capitalistic way, the parenting way, the romantic love way, the sports way, the American way, that the more you suffer, the more you earn-

Abby Wambach:

No pain, no gain.

Glennon Doyle:

… or the more you … Right, right. No guts, no glory. No pain, no gain. When we talked about this, Abby said, “No, I fully believed when I was playing, if I suffer the most, I will be the best.” So, you think that there’s another way. You said, “There is a general consensus in sports that you just suffer, you push through it and keep going and that’s what makes you tough. But I believe in my heart that there’s another way.” Can you tell us what’s the other way?

Abby Wambach:

Yes.

Glennon Doyle:

Great.

Christen Press:

My own philosophies.

Glennon Doyle:

It’s amazing, Christen.

Christen Press:

I don’t know anything. I’m like, “Oh sure. I can tell you about this.”

Glennon Doyle:

You can.

Christen Press:

Just, I know nothing about anything, but-

Abby Wambach:

No, you fixed death, so you do know something.

Christen Press:

But I think there’s a fine line between discipline and suffering. I do think that suffering is a part of life, but with acceptance, the suffering isn’t actually suffering, I think it’s discipline. So, that’s where it’s a little bit tricky. So, when I think about sport, the consensus of have to run ’till you’re sick. You have to give up so much, that’s like an endless suffering. And when I think of myself on the field and I put myself on the field emotionally, there’s this unpleasant thing that happens to many athletes, when they’re not in flow state, where you’re playing but you’re also watching a movie of yourself playing and it’s a highlight reel of all your mistakes. And it’s very distracting from the actual playing.

Christen Press:

I think there’s a lot of decisions that you can make on and off the field as a human, as an athlete, so that your whole life is more aligned in a way that’s blissful. I actively work towards a flow state, where playing soccer would be the most blissful and joyous thing that I ever did. I believe that if I loved it, if I’m laughing, if I’m smiling, that’s when I’m at my best. There’s this belief that you want it so bad, and that’s what motivates you. But what if that’s not what motivates you, like the trophy? What if it’s something much bigger than that, that you’re working towards? Because what happens … and I mean, everybody knows this, you win the trophy, you get the medal and you feel empty inside. And so, it’s this big laugh in your face moment where you’re like, “I worked so hard to get here and I’m still not where I want to be.”

Christen Press:

And so, the letting go of that fixed goal is the letting go of the suffering, and it’s working towards acceptance and bliss. There’s this quote, I think it’s Buddha, says, “Someday, you’ll tilt your head back and look at the sky. And you’ll just laugh because everything is exactly how it should be.” And it’s this idea that life is perfect, we just are missing it. We’ve put all these barriers and expectations and unhealthy routines between us and the perfection, but the perfection’s still there. I think sport is a way that actually breaks down those barriers because no matter what relationship you have with sport, there is always moments that great athletes, people who run, humans, they find that bliss, they find that transcendence, they find that flow and it helps you dip into it. I can imagine dancers, all different types of people, artists, these creative forces help you find that. And my hope is that there’s the more times you find that space, that flow, that ease, that joy, then the closer it gets to you, so you can keep finding it more and more. The more I find it, the better I’ll play, for sure.

Christen Press:

So, if you want to just do it to get to the next place, you probably missed the mark, but it becomes something that you can train. And that’s when I walked on El Camino de Santiago, it was like I was able to find that state of presence every day for a week. Then when I left, it has been my job to find that place in a regular life. When I have other things to do, when it’s not that simple, when I go back on the field, how can I access that state of joy and flow? That’s not to say my life is without suffering, but I do believe in this reality that can exist, that’s bliss.

Abby Wambach:

It’s so far different than the average pro athlete’s way, where it’s numbers, heart rates, repetitions, how many sprints you can do, how many calories you’re expending, all of that stuff feels so counter-cultural, what you’re trying to create for yourself. Are you trying to show this way to the people around you on your teams?

Glennon Doyle:

Ooh, that’s good. Are you a Spirit Spice evangelist or do you keep your Spirit Spice to yourself?

Christen Press:

Maybe a little half, because I think I’m still on my way. I still have so much to learn and to get to understand before I feel satisfied with it. I guess maybe you never feel satisfied, it’s like a giant catch 22. But I think the people that are closest to me, they know it, because they know my hurt and my journey and how I had to let go of that to get here. So, in that world, there’s no other option then for me to go deep into my sense of spirituality.

Christen Press:

But what you said, Abby, is so important because it’s still about numbers and sprints. It’s still there, but there is this way to do it that is intertwined with acceptance. And a very simple example is running. You’re going to run so hard, whatever it is, your mile. And it’s going to physically hurt, it’s going to burn your muscles are going to burn. You’re going to get sick. And that’s something you have to do. Whether or not you want to be a Spirit Spice or not, it’s just part of the job. But you can actually have your brain focus on certain things like certain parts of your body.

Christen Press:

So sometimes, when I’m doing hard cardio that’s unpleasant, I do a body scan. So, I’m running and I’m like, “Okay, what does my toe feel like?” I’ll scan each part of my body and just that simple shift of awareness away from whatever part of my body is really hurting, it makes it so that it doesn’t hurt, it’s literally like a magic trick. I try to tell people this, you can just focus on something else, stay in tune with that and you can still do the suffering. But for me now, it’s discipline. Now it’s the discipline of doing the work and it’s the discipline of doing the training of your brain, so that your life is in the direction that you want it to be.

Abby Wambach:

I like that, I mean-

Christen Press:

You got to try it, little body scan.

Abby Wambach:

Little body scan.

Glennon Doyle:

Body scan.

Christen Press:

Little body scan, mid exercise.

Abby Wambach:

I used to just count for some reason when I was in the depths of it. I’d just count out loud, so that I wouldn’t think about it, so maybe I’ll-

Christen Press:

Yeah, exactly.

Abby Wambach:

Just something.

Glennon Doyle:

Christen, you helped lead the charge for racial and gender justice in the NWSL. So, I just think it’s super important, sometimes when we talk about spirituality or any of this, people tend to think either, or. If you’re talking about the spiritual world, you are not boots on the ground involved in justice work, which is just … couldn’t be less true here. Once again, this is and, both situation for Christen.

Glennon Doyle:

So, you said, “The revolution is not about what you say or post,” Instagram and TikTok are going to be … They’re going to have problems with that, Christen. “It is about the inner work you do today and every day to fuel a lifetime of activism, the work starts within.” How does racial justice start within?

Christen Press:

This thought has come up so many times while we’re talking. I believe that the thing you can do to help the world is to help yourself and to cultivate peace and energy. Because I believe in that energy exchange, that’s my spirituality. And so in order to help others be well, you must be well yourself. And that’s where the two things get tied. I think there is a place for anger and frustration, and all the things that come, I think, with activism and fighting against status quo structures. But I think there’s also a place for a break and a place for cultivating your own sense of being grounded, so that you can go again and fight again. And I think that they’re actually really intertwined.

Christen Press:

When I think of my identity as a black woman, I think so much of my understanding about race came from this place of fear and a place of anger and a little bit of confusion and insecurity that comes from fear and anger. I think that that’s when it goes back to inner work, like me understanding my identity, my family, my history, how I came to be, what is my purpose? There’s a lot of guilt, I think, that goes into activism. It’s like, I’m not doing enough. I’m not contributing. I should be doing this. Look what that person’s doing. And that’s balanced by knowing yourself, being grounded, knowing your truth, knowing that can’t all get solved in one day and just being accepting of taking that next step.

Christen Press:

For me, that’s looked like [inaudible 00:46:58] our players’ association, so that we could take some power back from the federation and fight for equality. And it’s looked like having to have really hard conversations with reporters about coaches that were treating people unfairly. And that takes a strength that can only come from being well and being me and being you. I just think that that balance is important. I think it’s actually crazy to think that people think justice fighting and spirituality are at odds because for me, they’re exactly the same. And it’s like your belief in a greater good is how you get through the work. It’s how you do the work, it’s your why at the end.

Glennon Doyle:

So, you said energy exchange and the way that works is your spirituality. Can you tell me what you mean?

Christen Press:

Yes. So, I think every person that you interact with, you just have an energy exchange. I think people who are really good at it, you don’t even have to be in the room with them and you feel the presence. And there’s just like a … So simple, like a warmth that you feel, something that makes you at ease. I think that that’s an idealistic version of the best form of a human. It’s the human that lifts their head back and laughs because everything’s perfect. But I think that that’s something that we all are working towards.

Christen Press:

Ultimately, what I want to do on this Earth is just leave it a little happier, leave it a little safer, and you can think really macro and you’re like, “Okay, then I have to change this policy,” but it’s like, you can also just make someone feel safe in a moment and that’s the energy exchange. I think that we are a collective, where I believe in oneness. I believe that my wellbeing is tied to your wellbeing. And so, the more well that I am, the more well that you are. And in that humanity, we can all move in the same direction if we’re in that interchange of energy. I think that that’s special and it’s also very motivating for me because when I have an interaction with someone, especially when I’m being my introverted self, I feel like, oh I want to protect me,” or I want to keep this from me, or this is my boundary.

Christen Press:

And those things are important, but there’s something that’s just so life giving to me, to just know that a smile, or just a warmth, it’s contagious and it can lift somebody and that person can then spread it on. And in that way, simple moments can have massive impact.

Glennon Doyle:

The idea of change the world but the world is often just the world that’s within your fingertips, just the world around you. So beautiful. If we are suffering and we’re like, “All right, I’m just going to do a body scan.” And then it won’t be suffering, it’ll be awareness. But my question is, how do you know when you’re in a situation that’s the wrong kind of hard? You shouldn’t be just body scanning, you should be body leaving. How do you know? Have you ever been in a situation where the answer was not acceptance? The answer was end this. Because people are always asking us about that. I think it’s one of the best questions. How do you know when to dig deep and how do you know when to quit digging?

Christen Press:

Wow, I love that question. I’m puzzling over it. I’m thinking of environments that I’ve been in that were not safe or good. I’m the type of person who I have really high standards. So, I speak about spirituality except this, but I have a really high standard for things I don’t put up with a lot. I came from a tough family, so I never feel like if something is triggering or unsafe, I never attach that to the same place where I’m trying to understand myself better. Those are two separate things. But if I think an unsafe soccer environment, where things are going wrong, we’ve all seen NWFL, it’s happened in all phases of our career. I do think that I have to accept it to fix it. I don’t have to accept it to live with it, but I accept it to fix it because when you’re volatile or when you’re overly emotional, then that’s not the best place to make progress. And so, in order to have the conversations, the hard conversations, and do the work, I have to be able to have processed the bad parts of it. But I do think that to some degree that comes naturally to me, I make boundaries and stick to that.

Abby Wambach:

Give it us an example of boundary setting, because that’s a big topic of this conversation and in my marriage, I’m still learning.

Glennon Doyle:

Yeah, what are some of your boundaries? In friendship or in relationships with other people? How do you teach people how to treat you?

Christen Press:

I mean, the most severe example, it’s like I have a relationship where I will only interact with this person while the sun’s up because the sun goes down and it’s a scary situation. It’s a relationship that I’ve been dealing with my whole life, where I have felt unsafe. It wasn’t until two years ago and I worked with a therapist, that this idea came about like, I don’t have to put myself in that situation. Even though it’s a person that I love dearly and I have to see, and I feel guilty when I don’t and all of those things, but I think it has been a revolutionary boundary for me because it’s like-

Glennon Doyle:

I love that.

Christen Press:

… I can still love this person within the way that I can. And my boundary doesn’t mean that I don’t love them. It actually allows me to love them because if I was going to see this person at night, I would not love them.

Glennon Doyle:

Yes. Boundaries are good for relationships. Yes, that’s beautiful.

Glennon Doyle:

I love that. Only during sun hours. I mean you can say-

Christen Press:

The sun goes down and I’m out.

Glennon Doyle:

I love it. I want to talk about the 2015 ticker-tape parade because I read something that you wrote about that that was so beautiful. It really feels like the way that you describe it, that you experiencing that first ticker tape parade led to the equal pay settlement. Because you say that you stood there and you looked at the people celebrating you and how many people were in those streets because they cared that you won. And then you compared that to how you were being treated and paid and it didn’t align and you had an awakening.

Christen Press:

Mm-hmm, yeah.

Glennon Doyle:

Wow.

Christen Press:

No, I mean you just said it exactly how I experienced it. I think in 2015, I had no idea what the magnitude of that tournament would be. When you’re in a world championship, Abby, you know better than me, you’re in isolation, you’re in a bubble and you’re heads down just trying to get through to the next game. And then you come out of this experience and that in itself would be a whole podcast because it’s really mentally hard. But you come out and you open your eyes and you’re like, “Oh yeah, something else other than my World Cup exists.”

Christen Press:

But what happened was we opened our eyes and our lives had changed. We went into the tournament as somewhat well known people and we came out as these beacons of hope for people. And that was a complete surprise for me. I didn’t know that that was going to happen. I had no idea. I think people who had played another world championships probably knew, but I was like, “What the heck, how is this happening?” I didn’t know anyone was watching, you know?

Glennon Doyle:

Yeah.

Christen Press:

Other than people in the stands. And then we had that ticker-tape parade, which was the perfect picturesque setting of so many people crying and cheering. And it’s the absolute best part of sport, coupled with the hope of equality and those two things coming together. It was a moment, it was like a reckoning where I was like, “Wow, we’re extremely valuable in this moment from a complete business sense.” Of course, the reason that it was impactful to me, totally separate. But I was like, “Hey, a lot of people want something from us right now. We have huge value in our market. Why aren’t we being compensated that way?”

Christen Press:

I think that’s what started this re-upping of our players’ association, to take back power because it was this knowledge of our own value. I think that’s what the world does, is they try to hide your value from you so that you don’t know. And in this moment, there was no hiding it because there was thousands of people throwing tiny pieces of paper at us. And that was enough to know that we deserved better.

Glennon Doyle:

Oh my God, it’s so good.

Abby Wambach:

It makes me remember. I actually talked to Glennon a lot about this in terms of post-retirement guilt and the consciousness that we have now and seeing you all come to settlement with US Soccer. I just remember feeling like I didn’t do enough. I just accepted such mediocre standards for so long and I’ve had to actually do a lot of personal work in accepting that part because I do think that there is a role we all play on this spectrum.

Glennon Doyle:

Continuum.

Abby Wambach:

This continuum of justice, but I can’t help but look back and go, “Oh, I just took such minimal … ” I mean, we have this conversation all the time about business. She’s like, “Abby, you are worth more than this. You can actually go back and say, ‘No.’ ” I could go on and talk about this forever. But there was nobody that was more proud and more happy for you all, because it almost needed us old folks, like us old OGs needed to not be in the team, for you to actually get this accomplished. Sometimes the old does need to go out for the new to be able to step into a new paradigm. And you all did that so well.

Christen Press:

But you know, I feel like we all feel that we haven’t done enough. I think from the outside world, a settlement was such a massive accomplishment, but there is so much work to be done. So, the same feeling that you’re expressing, I absolutely still feel it. The way I always talk to people about it is when you join the US national team, you’re handed a torch because something happened long before I was on the team that made that team just a symbol of hope for people. That comes with great responsibility, but you’re handed this torch and you carry it as high and as far as you can, and then you hand it off, and any success we had was built on the work that you did, and same will be of the next generation. I think that that’s kind of a drag on fighting for justice and activism in general, that it’s so riddled with guilt. I wish we can all be rid of that, because in my own life, I think the all time I’m not doing enough, but that, I know it’s wrong, so I try to fight it. And I’m like, “I’m doing what I can. That’s something.” But it’s so true and I think it paralyzes people and makes them afraid to do anything, to do what they can, because it will still feel it’s not enough.

Glennon Doyle:

When you think that you’re not doing enough, do you think of your mom? When you’re thinking of something that you know is not true, that you know somebody who loved you without human nature would not believe, does that help you to have an actual relationship with someone who is free of all human bullshit so that you can get fixed?

Christen Press:

Out of it? Yeah. Yeah, I think that’s true. I think that I’ll have these thoughts and then it’s not even that conscious, but it’s just like, I can even just think, “Mom.” And then I’m like, “Ah.” And it’s just this reminder that something’s bigger than this small thing that I’m feeling, that you feel it and it feels so big, but it’s not the end. And now my mom just represents that for me. So, it pulls me out and gives me some perspective. So, thanks, mom. Keeping me going.

Glennon Doyle:

Okay, Christen Press. With that, we’re going to end. Our next right thing, I just think I’m thinking already about the beginning of this conversation and about how much suffering could be saved from if we would communicate more with our people. If you’re a parent and you’ve got a kid, don’t assume that they know that you love them just without any of the achievements. Tell them, tell them, tell them, tell them. I’m going to today. And also, let’s just do what Christen does and just do our best to make the world a little bit happier and a little bit safer even if it’s just the people in the room we’re in.

Abby Wambach:

Well, let me tell you, my life post-soccer has gotten exponentially better. I know that in my heart, I’ve probably wanted to be more like you and work on the full humanity of myself. I was afraid that it would distract from the soccer, so I did opposite. I just did all soccer and then now I’m just fully into my humanity. And the fact that you’re so ahead of that game makes me know that your retirement is going to be filled. You are not going to believe how much joy you can experience without this other thing that became so much of who you are, the thing that you spent most of your time doing. I keep telling all the players who are still playing. I’m like, “Just you wait, it gets-“

Christen Press:

Just wait.

Abby Wambach:

It gets so much better.

Christen Press:

The other side.

Glennon Doyle:

Yeah, the other side.

Christen Press:

Thank you so much for having me.

Glennon Doyle:

Christen, you’re a dream. We adore you so much.

Christen Press:

It’s been a joy.

Glennon Doyle:

We will see you at the games.

Christen Press:

Love you both.

Glennon Doyle:

Love you.

Christen Press:

See you at the game, see you.

Glennon Doyle:

Bye pod squad.

Abby Wambach:

Bye.

#christen press #glennon doyle #abby wambach #we can do hard things #i don't why i felt the need to do this but i did #you have no idea how long this took me to do

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

They’ve put up all the Taskmaster season 16 interviews already, which I like. In recent seasons they’ve been putting them out earlier and earlier into the season, and I always thought they should really just put all of them up before the season starts, as those are meant to be a way to get a feel for the contestants ahead of actually seeing them. The way they’ve split it in earlier seasons has a couple airing before the season starts and then the others airing a few episodes in, so some give you that feel for ones we don’t know about yet and then some are just extra details about people we’ve already seen on the show, and it’s a bit confusing. I much prefer being able to watch them all beforehand.

I watched them all tonight, and quite enjoyed that. Liked the format of this one – finally making them draw a picture of Alex after years of drawing Greg. And God, Alex is good at his job. Sometimes I forget a bit, or just take it for granted, how incredibly funny Alex Horne can be while just really causally, deadpan, fucking with a contestant via simple questions. To answer one of the questions he asked – no, I don’t think anyone else could do that job as well as he does (though Paul Williams is also fucking good at it). I think a lot of other people could do Greg’s job, very few could do Alex’s.

The interviews were fun. I enjoyed how much of an impression Julian Clary made, as I haven’t seen him do much else so that was a nice way to get to know him a bit. Imposing and confident. The only one to not just do everything Alex asked him. Clearly it’s a character, but there may have also been an underlying bit of “I have had a very long and very successful career in showbusiness, I don’t need to be desperate to do well on a panel show.”

Lucy Beaumont’s reminded me of how much I enjoy watching Lucy Beaumont do anything. I’ve seen her do quite a few things by now, and I still don’t have much of a handle on how much of her ditzy persona is real, but I am looking forward to seeing if I can figure it out via Taskmaster. Not even try to figure out “her true hidden self” or whatever – I’d just like to know how much of it we’re supposed to assume is a character. Though the fact that I can’t really tell is definitely part of her charm. Nearly everything about her is part of her charm. She’s got a lot of charm. So much charm.

I liked Sue Perkins’ mix of Julian Cleary’s “I’m too successful to need to be desperate to impress on a panel show” attitude (the exact opposite of Lucy Beaumont, who came off as being full of “desperate to impress on a panel show” attitude, which is what I’d expected from her), and Lucy Beaumont’s struggling and scrambling. She came off as pretty similar to the Sue Perkins I know from other panel shows, which is exactly what I hope she’ll be on Taskmaster. The duality of humanity. The confidence and the scrambling. The cool exterior and the panic. It’s going to be fun.

Susan Wokoma was the one I knew the least well, even including Cleary, so seeing her was fun. It was funny to watch her after someone like Julian Cleary, who was deadpanning right alongside Alex. While Susan was the opposite, breaking into giggles at the absurdity of everything he said, reminding me that way of Desiree Burch or even Katherine Parkinson. Constantly surprised by the revelation of what show she’s on (which might be explained by her answer of “my agents wanted me to” when asked why she did the show). Her laugh is fun to listen to, as is her defensiveness every time Alex changes the rules. I look forward to listening to both those things for ten episodes.

Sam Campbell had me worried for a bit, with my bold claims that I think he will be better at the tasks (not even at the comedy, just at scoring points in the tasks) than anyone else on this season. It doesn’t bode incredibly well toward me being proven right that he couldn’t remember how pronouns worked and tripped over his words on every sentence when asked to make a pretty simple language change. That skill is integral to a lot of tasks. Though my hopes were restored when his picture was revealed at the end, and it was by far the best. That’s a skill I didn’t even know he had when I was listing the skills he’s displayed through his stand-up that I think will make him good at tasks. Turns out Sammy C can draw, add that to the list of reasons for my prediction! (Actually I’ve just realized I did already know that, he drew that picture that James Acaster brought in ages ago.) Anyway, he was huge fun, that was the sort of energy level I've been hoping he'll bring.

I had a friend on Tumblr apologize to me the other day for whether they talk too much about finding a comedian attractive, as though I am too respectable a person for such tawdry things and shouldn’t have to hear them. Which is a ridiculous thing to apologize for, given that I’m well aware that Tumblr.com is very much the talking about famous people you want to fuck website. I mean, I might personally use it for other things, but I’m not here to disrespect its main function. So having said that, I’ve had a crush on Sue Perkins since I first got into Radio 4’s The News Quiz when I was nineteen. I didn’t even know what she looked like until I’d been hearing her voice for years, but just hearing her on the radio was enough to do that (though… when I eventually Googled a picture of her, that certainly didn’t hurt). On the subject of voices, seeing Lucy Beaumont’s video has reminded me that that particular accent is… certainly an impressive accent. That’s a good accent. What's the least creepy way I can say that's a good accent? Because I'd like to do that. And look, I sort of think that everyone, regardless of their gender or usual sexual orientation, who sees Sam Campbell has at least a bit of a crush on him.

So there you go, I thought I’d end my post with something to let people know that no one has to apologize to me for calling comedians hot on Tumblr.com; I can do it too, even if I usually make at least some effort to say these sorts of things slightly less often than I think them. But I’m glad everyone is having a good time.

New season tomorrow! New season tomorrow! Very excited for the new season tomorrow (even though I’m going to see Grace Petrie tomorrow, which I’m incredibly fucking excited about, so I won’t get to watch the episode until Friday after work). Happy early Taskmaster Day to all who celebrate!

[thatgirlonstage]

I am so very possibly kicking a hornet’s nest with this and may regret posting it immediately but

For being The Fandoms Website it’s kind of shocking to me how often posts here advocating for indie art *over and instead of* mainstream/big budget stuff just ignore the fact that part of the draw of art is that it’s communal.

I recognize and agree with the fact that by far some of the most interesting, boundary-pushing, insightful and incisive and bold art comes out of the indie scene. I think socially we ought to give indie artists more support and incentives, culturally we ought to be unafraid of sharing and talking about and recommending and creating transformative work of the weird niche indie projects that we find. I am all for support of indie artists in every way we can give it to them.

But if you accompany your pitch for indie art with “delete your Netflix and Amazon prime and never go to a major Hollywood movie ever again or you’re a bad person who doesn’t actually support indie artists at all” that’s… not helpful. Because while sometimes you may watch or read or listen to something purely for your own enjoyment and artistic fulfillment, it’s so often also about how art is a Fun Thing To Do With Your Friends Who Also Like The Thing. And yes, sometimes you can get your friends into the niche indie thing too, and that’s awesome!! But sometimes you don’t have friends who are into the subject matter of the niche indie thing, or the one friend you have who would be into it is in the middle of law school and isn’t going to be able to read anything for fun for the next two years, or they have brainworms and The Time Isn’t Right To Try This Thing, or… there’s a lot of ways that you end up the only person you know who’s read or watched The Thing, and trying to dig for fellow fans online nets you two pieces of fanart from five years ago and a single total stranger who you don’t really vibe with or want to talk to. If this is the only way you experience art, it will get so lonely so fast.

In contrast, if you’re watching The New Hit Show on HBO or Amazon or wherever, that’s water cooler talk. That gives you something in common with your coworkers or classmates or the guy at the front desk. If you’re watching the season’s most popular anime or reading the Hugo-sweeping new fantasy series, that might be less well known to random people in your life, but it’s very very easy to find communities online with your choice of people to talk to and hang out with and make new friends with.

I’m not saying you should engage with all popular media with no sense of comparison or scale. If something pushes particularly heinous messaging or had exceptionally bad labor practices or something else that crosses a line, by all means stay away from it and encourage others to do so. And please believe me when I say I am entirely and furiously aware that artists have been getting fucked over by corporations since forever and—particularly with everything happening with AI—it’s only getting worse. I don’t think our current state of affairs is good. I just don’t think acting like someone is irredeemably soulless because they still watch every MCU movie in theaters is helping it get better.

Support and pitch indie artists everywhere, always. Just please also have some compassion for the fact that people wanting to read/watch the popular thing isn’t just FOMO or boot-licking devotion to a corporation—it’s about wanting to share joy and excitement and fun through art with other people. Which is truly about the most human desire I can think of.

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God | m.m

Matt Murdock x avenger!OFC

Chapter twenty-five: For Real This Time

Read part XXIV here ° masterlist

Summary: The Avengers head back to Matt’s apartment to get some much needed rest before continuing with their plan to stop Hydra. Even though Eliza decided not to hold grudges, the familiar environment mixed with her old friends brings her to her breaking point and she lets go of all her pent-up anger and disappointment, causing a series of revelations that no one was quite prepared for. Her and Matt’s relationship also reaches a heated breaking point and that might just be the last time.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, fingering, sad sex (yes that’s a warning), ANGST, so much angst, mentions of drug use and suicide attempt, language, hurt/comfort, brief panic attack, Matt Murdock (yes that’s a warning), also Eliza comes as her own warning too

Other characters: Team Cap, Foggy

a/n: Does it help when I said I cried too? No? Okay.

The unexpected team headed to Matt’s apartment in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen. He made sure no one was following them on the road to their newest safe house. To Eliza, it was an old one. A place she had grown to love over the past couple of days. She lived with Matt and somehow got used to the domesticity of it all. She wanted it back, the carefree comfort, the emotional conversations in the middle of the night, and the sex. The mind-blowing, intimate sex they shared. She wanted to go back to two hours ago when everything was less terrible, Matt was still by her side and she could bask in the comfort of his presence without having to worry about a thing. 

That was over though, thanks to her inability to love someone the way they deserved to be loved.

To appear less suspicious, they all entered through the rooftop access door. A whole bunk of people appeared as if they had no business even being there. And the truth was, they didn’t. They weren’t supposed to be there, but they were, despite everything, and they would stay that way for as long as they deemed necessary. 

Sam was the first one to bluntly state the obvious. “Well, damn,” he said, “This place is a shithole.”

“For the first time, I agree with you, Wilson,” said Natasha. “You live here?”

Matt scoffed. “Why does everyone keep saying that?” he grumbled. 

“Because it’s true. This place sucks.”

“Why don’t we have a tour of your apartment next, Natasha? If you keep criticizing mine, yours probably looks much better, right?” 

He opened the fridge, retrieving a bottle of wine, and he didn’t waste a second breaking the cap off with his bare hands. 

Natasha circled back in surprise at his bold sarcasm. For someone who knew she didn’t like him very much, he certainly had the balls to push her further. She was almost impressed. 

“I don’t have an apartment,” she said. “I’m a fugitive. I stay where I need to stay, and my place in Budapest kind of blew up thanks to Black Widow assassins suffering from chemical subjugation ‘cause my sister brought the antidote right to my doorstep in Norway and they wanted it back to prevent more Widows to escape the dirty hands of their keeper, Dreykov, a man who is known for kidnapping little girls to turn them into world-class assassins doing all the dirty work for him.”

Matt stopped sipping his beer. His sightless eyes focused on somewhere beside her, his head slightly tilted to the side so he could listen closely to the sound of her voice. 

He regained composure. “Forget I asked,” he said.

“Wait,” Natasha’s answer caught Eliza’s attention, “What exactly happened the past few months?” she asked. 

The Black Widow shrugged. She pushed past Matt who scowled at her rough handling, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer for herself. “German piss,” she commented. “That’s disgusting.”

“You sound like this guy I know.”

“Do I? What’s he like? Drop-dead gorgeous? Badass? Superhero?”

“No, he’s just a dick.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Okay, what the hell is your problem with me?”

“I don’t have a problem. Do you have a problem?”

“I’m gonna have a problem if you keep talking to me like that.”

“What, can’t take a little fire?”

“That’s not fire, that’s pettiness.”

“And you guys have both,” Eliza cut in. She sounded exhausted, not just physically but mentally. “Though the latter seems to be a lot stronger. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re having a cock fight.”

“Well, I do think mine’s bigger than his,” Natasha said, sipping her beer casually.

Eliza rolled her eyes. “I doubt that,” she said.

Matt chuckled. Natasha shot him a glare.

“Don’t let it go to your head, Matthew. What you’re doing right now takes away about nine inches.”

“What?” he pouted.

That was about all of it and a little more.

“This isn’t about honor, this is about your ego. You, Nat, can’t stand the thought of someone like Daredevil caring for me ‘cause you think he spells trouble. And Matt, you’re being petty because you don’t like it that she’s stronger or smarter than you’ll ever be,” she said. “That makes you two very annoying people who should never have met. Now put your dicks away and act like normal fucking people.”

Natasha stayed quiet this time, staring guiltily down the throat of the bottle. “This beer still tastes disgusting,” she muttered.

Matt sighed, “Yeah, I know.”

“If I liked you, I’d buy you better beer.”

“If you liked me, I’d be flattered.”

“But I don’t.”

“But you don’t.”

Eliza propped her hands on her hips. Foggy noted that she looked almost like Matt when she did that, copying his stance down to even the slightest detail.

“You done?” she asked.

She handed her beer to Matt. “Now I’m done.”

He slapped the glass down on the counter, his smirk sour as he listened to her step out of the kitchen and into the living room, throwing herself down on the leather sofa.

Eliza followed her. “Can you answer my question now? About what happened the last couple of weeks?”

Natasha sighed. She propped her arm up on one of the cushions, playing with the threads that stood from the fabric. “I didn’t kill Dreykov or his daughter back then in Budapest,” she told her. “A couple of weeks ago, my sister Yelena dropped the solution to chemical subjugation in Black Widows on the doorstep of my safe house in Norway…”

“Wait, you have a sister? Why didn’t I know about that?”

“‘Cause she’s not my biological sister and more of a we were in a spy family together for three years sister.”

“Still, that is a huge deal!” she claimed.

“Yeah, not so much when you find out that I just left her behind and never checked back in with her,” Natasha said.

Eliza’s eyes widened. She had never taken her to do something like this, not when both of them knew what it was like to be abandoned.

“You had your reasons, right?”

The redhead-turned-blonde chuckled. “I find it nice you think that, but I don’t think I had. I guess I was just scared.”

“That’s a reason,” Eliza tried to tell herself. “I do shit out of fear all the time.”

“If you say so. Anyway, I returned to Budapest to find out the Red Room was still pretty much existent,” she continued the retelling. “We spent days trying to stop Dreykov and we almost died doing it, but we managed. All of the girls are safe now and no more Dreykov. No more him and no more Black Widows. They can make their own decisions now, like us.”

She nodded. “That’s nice to hear. At least something that went right.”

“Yeah… What happened to you?”

Eliza knew they would circle back to that. “Other than finding out that my whole life has been a lie concocted by the people I thought I could trust, nothing much,” she answered.

“Eliza, we told you, we were just trying to keep you safe,” said Natasha.

Their sense of a normal family reunion went straight out of the window. The hostility kicked back in.

“How can hurting me possibly keep me safe?”

Steve entered the conversation in all of his defensive nature. “If you had known about your identity earlier, Hydra might have been able to find you before we even got the chance to get ahead of them,” he said. “You remember what they did to Bucky, how they searched for him after he ran away. You remember what he told us.”

“Don’t drag Bucky in this,” she said.

“Why not? If he were here, he would tell you the exact same thing.”

“I don’t think so. Barnes the only one who truly understands what Hydra does to people like us, those they experimented on.“

“You can’t know that.”

“I do because we’re both the same person!” Eliza snapped. Her voice jumped an octave, raising the audacity. “We both went through the same hell. He’d be much better at this than you.“

“Bucky is just a super soldier with a metal arm, your powers are stronger and more unique,” Natasha shot back. “You’re extremely powerful and they could end worlds if you learned how to control them. Hydra wants your blood to recreate the powers of the Reality Stone and teach their test subjects to actually end the world. They want to make more of you and once they manage that, they will kill you.”

“You could have at least told me my father was alive and that I’m not an orphan,” she argued. “You made me believe I was alone. You made me drown in that feeling with no one there to catch me. I was so alone. You knew the one thing that could have given me at least a little bit of closure and you didn’t even consider telling me.”

“I did!” Natasha didn’t raise her voice often. She only did it when she was upset. “I considered, but Tony told me not to.”

“Since when do you listen to Tony?”

“Since the truth could have killed you! It almost did several times in the past few days. The only reason you’re still alive is that you have someone who constantly jumps in the line of fire for you.” She pointed at Matt. “He’s the only reason you’re still alive.”

Eliza shook her head. “No, we could have solved this the second you got that file. Nick surely wouldn’t have kept this from me.”

“Nick would have destroyed your file the second he got his hands on it.”

“Maybe that would have been better. Maybe you should have just erased the truth of my existence altogether because knowing I killed my mother doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Eliza, you didn’t kill your mother,” Clint said. He stepped forward carefully. “She died because the stone was slowly poisoning her. If anything, you kept her alive. She felt good up until the point she gave birth to you. You blocked the poison of the stone with your DNA because the stone is protecting you.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it should have killed me along with her.”

“Eliza, stop it!” Matt roared from the kitchen. “Stop talking as if your death would be convenient to everyone else.”

She sneered. “You don’t get a say in this!”

“Why? Because I told you I loved you? Because I was willing to sacrifice my life for you over and over and over again? Because I don’t care who you were, I just care about you?”

“Oh, my God.” Eliza shook her head. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“None of you do. No one ever understands.”

“Enlighten me then!”

“I’m not human, Matt! And because I’m not human, I am not the person you met on that godforsaken rooftop. I am not the SHIELD Agent that took down an army of soldiers before Natasha saved me,” she said, diverting her attention to the four Avengers occupying the living room. “I am not the Avenger Tony recruited after he saw my potential during the battle of New York. And I am not the kid you wanted me to be. I’m none of those things. You wanna know what I think? I think part of you didn’t want me to find out because then you would’ve had to erase whatever perfect, golden picture you had of me and replace it with whatever this is.”

Her eyes glowed bright red. Her fingers tingled. The veins traveling up to her eyes erupted in a terrifying glow, so red it slowly faded into shades of maroon. It was the this that had been unspoken for so long, she never recognized that part of her. That was her self-control, she realized. The not-knowing, the inability to use all of her powers, and feeling like a stranger in her own body. The process of learning who she was had been disrupted and only as an adult picked up again. It wasn’t fair. 

“I have one of the most powerful elemental crystals running through my blood and no one knew until a few years ago when my father snitched up on me,” she continued.

The salt on her tongue reminded her of the almost human vulnerability she still carried inside of her, and how prone to tears she was whenever she got angry or upset. She had to hold onto the little things, as hard as it seemed. 

“The powers I have are getting worse ever every day,” she said. “Ever since I first got a taste of what they can do; if I had known before, I could have learned how to control them, but I don’t. I don’t know how. I almost killed someone with my bare hands, without having to touch them, and it’s all your fault! Not mine, not my mother’s, not my father’s, yours! You could have told me but you didn’t and the way I am right now is on you. I’m broken because of you. I took drugs to stop this indescribable ache in my chest, and then I had sex with men who only saw me as a fucktoy, and I let it happen because I wanted to feel something, anything, that didn’t remind me of this pain in my chest. The unknown possessed me, so I kept taking those pills until I was too numb to care, and when that wasn’t enough, I willingly pushed myself over the edge. The overdose was never just an accident,” she turned to Natasha, her friend’s eyes bloodshot and fighting back tears as she slapped a hand in front of her mouth, “I did it on purpose. I took the drugs, hoping I would drown in the bathtub or choke on my own vomit. I wanted my heart to stop. I wanted to die.”

She let out a strangled sob. “Eliza,” she cried quietly. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I felt lonely and useless and a stranger in my own body,” she replied with a distant shrug. 

“You could have just told me…”

She groaned. “I did! I tried to tell you, but you were all so caught up in the person you wanted me to be, you didn’t want to listen. You didn’t want to lose me, so you pretended that nothing was wrong with me until there was, and then you acted like I was this- this fragile little thing that couldn’t take care of herself. Sure, it got me the attention I wanted, but I thought it’d help me find myself and not make everything so much worse.”

“Okay, maybe we should just-” Steve prompted. 

Eliza slammed her hand down on the dining table. “No! We shouldn’t just stop. That’s what you wanted to say, right? Stop and calm down, talk about this like civilized people. Well, guess what,” she said, “I’m done talking. I’m done being your therapist, I’m done trying to fit in and I’m done being seen as the villain whenever I can’t reciprocate feelings that were sprung on me! I’m done being the golden child, the one who has to fix everything, and I’m done living for everyone but myself because I’m fucking tired of it. I’m tired and it’s all your fault. You each dug your own grave and now it’s time to lie in it.”

The milky glass of the sliding door almost broke at how hard she pulled at the handle to close it. Matt flinched at the harsh sound and even the others had a hard time keeping their composure. 

He sighed, setting down his beer bottle, and out of instinct, took fast steps toward the bedroom. He could hear her elevated heartbeat, the struggle for breath - she was trapped in a full-on panic attack and he couldn’t help her. 

“No,” Foggy said. He pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him. “If you go in there, you’re gonna make this so much worse. I’m sorry, but you’re the last person she needs right now.”

“Let me through,” he demanded. 

He shook his head. “Absolutely not. Neither of you,” he took a look around, “Is going in there. She doesn’t need to be reminded of all this.”

“Her heart is beating out of her chest and she’s barely breathing. She needs someone to ground her. I know what to do, she trusts me-“

“Not right now, she doesn’t.”

“Christ, Foggy, just let me through.”

“No, take a step back, take a breather and let me be a friend to her. You guys seem to really suck at it.”

Matt lifted his arm in defense. Foggy took a step back, making sure he wasn’t following. It took every last ounce of self-control for him not to break the door down and take her into his arms. Instead, his friend entered the bedroom, closing the door behind him, and the second he was inside, he knew he was doing a much better job than he ever could. 

“You told her you loved her and then stormed off?” Natasha piped up. He could smell the anger radiating off of her. “Are you serious right now?”

“You don’t get to judge,” Matt said. 

“I do ‘cause she’s my friend!”

“Just shut up. I can’t do this right now.” He grabbed his mask and his gloves from the kitchen counter. “I’ll be outside when you need me.” 

He disappeared through the rooftop access the same way he came in.

Foggy found Eliza on the floor, face pressed into the mattress of Matt’s bed, pathetically trying to muffle her gut-wrenching sobs. Her hands clawed at the comforter. It smelled like Matt and traces of her, and it made her cry even more. Everything was gone now. Her life lay in shambles. 

She choked on her sobs, constricting her lungs from regaining full function. She hiccuped. Too much pain in her chest applied pressure to her heart. She felt like she was having a heart attack, but she knew better. Her mind sent warning signals, causing her whole body to lock up. Fight or flight, it was as easy as that. 

Stroking her back gently, Foggy fell to his knees next to her. She flinched, her skin on fire from the lack of oxygen. “Liz, I know you’re not okay,” he said. “Can you try to breathe for me?”

She shook her head. He pulled her up by the shoulders, one of his arms wrapped tightly around her front while the other pressed down on her heart. He felt it thudding underneath his palm. 

“Feel that? I’m here.”

She sobbed. 

“I’m here. Focus on that.” Foggy tapped a steady rhythm against her skin. The other hand rubbed her shoulder, applying just a little more pressure to get her out of her head. 

She sucked in a sharp breath, still crying violently, but breathing got a little easier with the cold palm of his hand pressing into her heated skin. The temperature change knocked her senses back into high gear, and she could feel reality seep back into her bones.

“You’re not alone,” he whispered into her ear. “Not anymore. You have friends, you have Matt, you have me. I know it might not seem like it, but they love you. I know it hurts, but you heard them. You know they had to make a choice. I think they regret not telling you, but as far as I’m concerned, there was no other way. They care about you. The things they did, they did it out of love for you. Deep down, I think you know they made the right call. That doesn’t mean it’s okay how they handled it.

“You have every right to feel all of your emotions right now, as long as you get back up again and go back to being your badass self. ‘Cause I know you can survive this. You’re one of the strongest people I know, Eliza,” he told her. “If anyone can survive this, it’s you.”

His gentle, yet truthful words slowly coaxed her back into reality. Her breathing calmed, and her cries died down. She slacked in his arms, enjoying the hug he gave her. He offered her a small bubble to escape into, and she took it gladly. His arms protected her from the harsh world, even if only for a little while. 

Eliza exhaled. “Thank you,” she said. 

“Of course. That’s what friends do for each other,” said Foggy.

“I’m not used to having normal friends.”

“Well, then it’s about damn time you learned.”

“Thank you,” she nodded. “I mean it.”

He rubbed her shoulder again before releasing her. She slumped against the bed. He sat down next to her. Eliza placed her head on his shoulder, too tired, and worked up to keep her neck straight. She felt like a newborn baby with absolutely no control over her body. 

“I’m just so angry all the time,” she said quietly into the comfortable silence. “I don’t want to be mad at them, but it feels like my whole life was a lie. Eliza Bennett has always been just an alias, but knowing I could have learned about my real identity much sooner makes me feel like… like I’m a stranger? I don’t know, it doesn’t make sense. I’m angry, even when I don’t want to be, and that makes me sad. So sad, I only feel for myself, and since my emotions are something I cannot control, I have to suffer through it, even when the pain gets worse.”

“We all get angry. Life makes us angry. And someone with your level of trauma is granted that anger for as long as she wants to,” Foggy said. “Until you’re ready to work through it, which you should. You should work through it.”

“I know, I’m trying, but it’s just a lot right now.”

“You can start when this is over. Right now, be as angry as you want. We can handle it.”

“I don’t want to be angry. I want to forgive them. I want my life back.”

“You’re gonna get it back,” he reassured her. “Maybe not now or tomorrow, but soon.”

“Thank you.”

“Sure thing, Liz. Hey, have I ever told you about how my mom wanted me to become a butcher?”

She chuckled weakly. “You did mention it.”

“Yeah, but I never told you the whole story.”

“That you did not.”

“Well, I come from a family of butchers. My mom and dad own a shop here in Hell’s Kitchen, not the one you destroyed, of course. We have the freshest meat in the city. And my brother, he joined the business while I wanted to go to law school. My parents planned for me to take over the shop when they retire, but I had other plans. They pleaded for me to come back home, but I told them ‘no, I want to help people. And I want to make a shit ton of money’. And I almost had it with the internship at Landman and Zack. Of course, Matt had to wreak havoc on my plans to become rich and famous. I love him, but he’s an idiot. Starting our practice was the best and stupidest idea he’s ever had. Or what do you think?”

She didn’t answer. He peeked down to find her eyes closed. She was dead asleep. 

Foggy sighed. “Wow. Didn’t think the story would be this boring.”

He picked her up, lying her down on the bed. He shuffled the comforter aside and wrapped the blanket around her sleeping frame. She yawned, turned around, and hugged Matt’s pillow to her chest. 

“Sweet dreams.” He turned the lights off, shutting the curtains, then exited the bedroom as stealthy as he could. 

The Avengers all jumped from their seats. 

“How is she?” Natasha asked first. 

He placed a finger on his lips. “Shh. She’s finally down. If you wake her, I’m gonna kill you. I know I don’t look like I can, but I will.”

“Oh, thank God. I didn’t mean for this to escalate.”

“Yeah, well, it did. You have to deal with the consequences now.”

“Thank you,” Clint said. “We appreciate your help.”

“Since I’m the only one with common sense, I don’t have a choice.” Foggy took a look around. “Where’s Matt?”

“He said he’s outside if we need him,” Sam told him. “Grabbed his helmet and gloves, so maybe he’s out being Daredevil or whatever. Getting rid of his anger issues.”

“Yeah, he can’t get rid of that. Excuse me, I’m gonna check the roof. Feel free to eat or drink anything you need to, as long as you don’t wake the dragon.”

He jogged up the stairs, through the door. For a second, he considered staying to check on Eliza like a baby monitor, but he figured she would come if she needed him or anyone else. She was exhausted, she would certainly stay asleep for a couple of hours. 

The night air slapped him across the face. Shuffling his sleeves back down over his arms, he crossed them. As expected, Matt stood on the ledge, still in his Daredevil suit minus the mask and the gloves, which lay beside him on the bricks. He turned his head slightly, recognizing his footsteps, heartbeat, and breathing. 

“What do you want?” he asked. 

Foggy scoffed, “You’re an idiot.”

“Beg your pardon?” 

“Eliza. You’re an idiot.”

“How am I the idiot? She’s the one who pushed me away.”

“Yeah, because you sprung the truth on her like it meant absolutely nothing,” he said. “You don’t just randomly blurt out I love you and then hope the other person says it back.”

“How do you think I should have handled it, Foggy? If you’re so much smarter than me.”

“I would have waited until this whole shitshow was over. Eliza has other things to worry about than your feelings for her. If you had waited, maybe she would have said it back.”

“She told me she can’t. I don’t think if I had waited a couple more weeks her answer would have been different. At least I know now that she doesn’t feel that way,” he said. 

“Oh, my God,” Foggy threw his hands up, “Of course she does! She loves you, she just can’t sort out the feeling. She struggles with emotions, which is ironic, really, but she does. She struggles because she’s never experienced this before. She’s never been so emotionally involved with a person as she is with you and that scares her. Just give her time, Matt. That’s all she needs.”

He scoffed, “When have you become the Eliza-whisperer?”

“Since I’m the only friend she can count on right now. I’m the only unbiased one and that’s what she needs. A shoulder to cry on. She feels betrayed and alone and while I know this isn’t your fault, you’re playing a huge part in the guilt she’s feeling, and that makes her angry, so she says things she doesn’t mean. Just try to see this from her perspective, please. Just once.”

“I can’t see shit,” he retorted. 

“You know I meant that in a metaphorical sense.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Can you come back inside now or do you want to keep sulking on the roof?”

“I like sulking on the roof.”

“You just like sulking, period. It’s not a good look on you.”

Foggy turned on his heels, making his way back to the door. 

“Foggy,” Matt called out, “Why do you always have to try and fix everything?”

He shrugged. “Because usually, I can.”

That made Matt chuckle, another small victory for him. He could be surrounded by a million soldiers - when it came to being a normal person who took care of his friends, he would always be better than them. 

Matt returned to his apartment only a couple of minutes later. “You’re back,” Natasha stated. 

“Congratulations,” he retorted, “You have functioning eyes.”

“That’s not something you can relate to, can you?”

“There’s something seriously wrong with you.”

Every time he opened his mouth, she liked him a little less. 

Steve, the good soul he was, tried not to let the bad mood drag him down. “Hey man,” he walked up to matt as he spoke, “I just want to say I appreciate you doing this for us. Open your doors, let us stay here. It means a lot. And even though they can’t show it,” he said, motioning to the rest of his team, “They’re grateful too.”

Matt scoffed, which sounded more like a broken chuckle. “Natasha doesn’t seem to think that way,” he said. 

“Natasha is a complicated character. She loves Eliza. She’s like a sister to her. When she cares so deeply for someone, she gets suspicious. And she’s been getting into a lot of trouble with you by her side. Natasha doesn’t see the difference between Eliza being Eliza and getting in trouble, and you fighting with Eliza while she’s getting in trouble. The past couple of weeks have been hard, so you gotta cut her some slack.”

“I’m not the one insulting her, Steve.”

“I know, just… give her some time.”

“They’re very much alike,” he realized. “Aren’t they?”

“More than you think,” Steve agreed. 

“Alright, I guess I can stand down. You’re welcome, for letting you stay, by the way. And thank you for coming here and, you know, helping her. She needed some hope.”

He patted his shoulder. “Family doesn’t let each other down.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

Clint rummaged through the fridge, ignoring all the deep talks and instead checking for sustenance in Matt’s kitchen. He was majorly disappointed. “Don’t you have anything to eat around here?” he asked. “I’m starving.”

Sam poked the Braille printer he had seated on his desk in the corner. His fingers brushed over the documents next to it, the legal files imprinted with the Braille that came out of the printer. “How does this work, exactly?” he questioned. 

Matt wasn’t sure what question to answer first. The Avengers were the nosiest bunch of people he had ever met. 

“Is this your bathroom?” Natasha toyed with the handle of what was, in fact, his bathroom. She opened it without waiting for his permission, taking in the small space, the shower, and the bathtub. “Hm, looks better than the outside.”

“Guys,” Steve warned. 

“It’s okay,” Matt assured him. “They’re just curious.” He hated that they were infiltrating his personal space, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Eliza trusted them, so he did too. 

“I have a Braille typewriter, but I also have a program on my laptop that makes it possible for me to print all of my files,” he told Sam. 

The Falcon nodded. “Cool. Can I print something?”

“Please don’t.”

“Okay.” He removed his finger. “How long did it take you to learn how to read?”

“I haven’t been blind since birth. I was nine when it happened,” he said. “I went to a school for blind people, took me a while but it’s not as hard as it seems. I read a lot as a kid, which helped improve my skills. There was not much more to do at the orphanage.”

“You’re a very interesting person. An interesting person with obvious trauma. I like you.”

“Thanks. About the food,” Matt continued and turned to Clint, “I don’t keep much around since I don’t spend much time at home, let alone cooking. There is a Thai place around the corner though, you can get takeout from there.”

“Or we could just order pizza,” he suggested. 

“And call Hydra straight to our doorstep?” Captain America interjected. 

“Yeah,” Clint decided, “That’s not gonna work.”

“If you’re starving, I’m sure Foggy can get us some food,” Matt said. 

Foggy sighed, “I suppose I can.”

“Natasha,” Matt called out to her. “Yes, that is the bathroom. Yes, you can use it. And no, I do not know what it looks like.”

She raised her arms. “Alright, I was just checking.”

“Oh!” Clint’s happy cheer got him the attention he needed. “I found bread,” he smirked triumphantly. 

“Yeah, that’s moldy.”

“How did you-”

Matt shrugged. “I can smell it.”

“Great, now we don’t even have bread. I think Matt’s right. The team needs fuel, Foggy can get it for us.”

“Why me?” Foggy asked. 

“‘Cause you’re the only one of us Hydra or the law doesn’t want,” he said. “No offense.”

“None taken. Okay, make me a list, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Spring rolls and fried rice,” Natasha stated. “That’s what Eliza likes.”

Matt said it at the same time she did, “That’s what Eliza likes.”

They exchanged a look. The fire in her stomach burned even brighter. Perhaps it was stupid, thinking she had some territorial claim over her, but Eliza was like a sister to her and Matt was going to hurt her, she just knew it.

“Okay, wow,” Foggy sighed, exasperated. 

Clint stood beside him, voicing what he thought. “They’re gonna kill each other before Hydra can,” he said. 

“You said it, not me.”

“Oh, and for the food, I want whatever has the most spice.” He bumped his shoulder. “Thanks, bud.”

“Sure, unload everything on me. I’m your personal delivery guy. It’s not like I have a job or anything.”

“What’d you say?” Sam asked. 

He waved him off. “Oh, nothing. I’d be glad to take your orders.”

“Great, so as a starter I want…”

This group of unlikely allies was going to be the death of him, literally. 

She had blood on her hands. 

Her ledger was dripping; wiping out this much red was a near impossibility. The nightmares were the worst part. Not her constant doubts, they didn’t matter. The person she saw in the mirror was nothing compared to what she saw when she closed her eyes. 

Perhaps she’d had it coming. Blood was resistant. Even with bleach, she couldn’t clean it off her hands. She scrubbed them every night until her knuckles started bleeding. Her skin was dry, tearing apart. The blood was still there—the Devil in disguise. 

Eliza stared at her bloody hands. The blood was dark red, fresh, dripping from her fingers. She found herself in a dark room with white tiles, the neon lights above her head merely flickering. 

Blood painted the walls. She stood in it. 

Her hands shook. She followed the trail, she had to. The lifeless frame of the body had its back turned to her. She could only make out the red suit, and a head full of brown hair. The blood didn’t stop. A whole river pooled at her feet. 

“No,” she whispered. 

She rolled the unconscious man over. His brown eyes were empty, glossy, and staring straight at her. Blood came out of his eyes and nose, his chest ripped apart and the dagger embedded deep in his chest. 

She choked. “Oh, God!” 

Matt lay there, eyes dead, body swimming in his blood. Her weapons littered his torso. Her hands were full of blood. Eliza didn’t have to be conscious to put one and two together. 

“No, Matt,” she choked out. “Hey, wake up. You’re okay.” She shook him. He didn’t wake up. “Please, wake up!” She cradled his head in her lap. “I can’t do this without you.”

What exactly was it? Her bloodied hands grabbed at his torso desperately.

“I didn’t do this,” she denied, but she knew better. Her daggers, his body, the blood on her hands – she wasn’t a genius, but she didn’t have to be. 

“I didn’t do this!” she said, loud and clear. Her voice jumped off the walls. “I would never hurt you. I couldn’t. You can’t be dead. You can’t, please. Don’t die, you hear me? Don’t!”

His already opened eyes shot wide awake. He grabbed her by the throat. It seemed like he could see her eyes. He stared at her, blankly ahead, and his white lips parted. 

She couldn’t breathe.

“Why would you do this to me?” he asked. “Why would you kill me?”

“I didn’t,” she said. “You said you loved me, remember? You know I would never do something like this. I would never hurt you. Never.”

“I could never love a killer. You kill everything around you and refuse to take responsibility. It’s your hand on the knife, Eliza. I could never love a person like you. You deserve nothing. You don’t deserve to be loved, and you don’t deserve to live. I wish they finally killed you.”

His eyes fell shut. 

“No!”

She shot up in bed. Sweat coated her forehead and every last inch of skin. The clothes she wore stuck clad to her body. The silk sheets were stained wet. She threw the blanket off her body, suddenly too hot to be wrapped up in it. Eliza hugged her knees to her chest, head hung between them, catching her breath. She swayed back and forth. It was just a dream, she kept telling herself. It wasn’t real. 

“You okay?”

She gasped loudly, scooting back against the headboard. When she saw the familiar face staring back at her from the closet, she lowered her defensive arms. “Jesus!” she cursed. “You can’t just sneak up on me like that.”

“Okay one, I live here, and two, I was just getting dressed,” Matt said cooly, pointing at the clothes in his hand. “You said my name. What were you dreaming about?”

“Don’t act as if you care.”

“I do.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Nightmare again?”

She eyed him, trying to ignore the burning desire in her chest to check if he was alive, but the second his fingers brushed her bare thigh, she was done for. 

Eliza grabbed his face forcefully, pressing her lips to his. He kissed her back almost instantly. She swung her leg over his lap and he pulled her closer with a bruising grip around her waist. They were both desperate. Their lips moved together in a fiery dance for dominance, sloppy in the way they moved against each other. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling and tearing at the strands, not sure whether to pull him closer or push him away. He struggled with the same issue. He wanted to keep her like this, in his lap, but being close to her hurt. She turned the tables and now the connection was hurting him more than her. He hated that he felt that way, and how good that pain felt because he wanted to be angry at her, but he couldn’t. He wanted to stay away from her for his own sake, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t spend a second without her. It hurt even more than being close to her. 

They forgot the world in each other’s arms. His hands slipped under her shirt, pulling it over her head. She sighed into his mouth. Her hips ground down on his, eliciting a delicious groan from him. He wasn’t wearing a shirt due to his plans to get dressed, but he had his pants still on. Pyjama pants. He must have slept on the couch. At least one promise he kept. The “We are done!” from before was completely forgotten the second she kissed him. 

He opened the clasp of her bra with two skilled fingers. It fell to the floor. They didn’t share any words, only hot and heavy breaths and sounds that got swallowed by lips and skin. He tightened his hold on her, flipping them around so she was on her back and he could tower over her.

His hand landed over her mouth when a lewd moan built up in the back of her throat. He muffled the sound, though to his ears it was still incredibly loud, and the sound of her ruined voice shot straight to his groin. 

He smashed his lips against hers again. He forced his tongue into her mouth, exploring the land as if he had never been there before. One hand slipped beyond the waistband of her pants, right into her panties. He cupped her desperate cunt, using two fingers to expertly part her folds. She threw her head back on the pillows, yet his lips didn’t stop assaulting hers. He kept them both quiet with the magic of his very skilled tongue. 

“This doesn’t mean anything,” he panted. 

She nodded feverishly. “Of course not.”

He dipped one finger in first, testing the waters. She was desperate and wet, just how he liked it. He didn’t waste any time sliding in another. The palm of his hand rubbed against her clit with every thrust of his digits, and her pussy squelched each time her walls clenched around him. She moaned into his mouth, hooking one arm around his neck as if that would get him any closer. 

Just when her muscles started contracting harder around him, he pulled out. She didn’t have time to protest before he pulled down her pants completely, lowering his just enough to pull out his cock. He used her wetness on his hand to give himself a few good pumps, enough to get his cock completely hard.

“Don’t make a single fucking sound.” With that warning, he lined himself up with her entrance and buried his cock deep inside of her with a forceful thrust. He clammed his hand over her mouth to muffle the scream.

He wasn’t a complete heathen though. He gave her time to adjust to his size, which took only a few seconds this time before her nails dug into his back and he pulled out and bottomed out again only moments later. He continued with the same brutal pace that almost had the bed shaking. This wasn’t about her, she realized. He was desperately chasing his orgasm. He hooked one of her legs around his waist to get deeper. 

Eliza pushed his hand away from her mouth, replacing it with his lips. “I dreamt you died,” she breathed into the kiss. “I dreamt you died and it was my fault.”

His cock hit her g-spot. “What?” he choked out. She was so tight, clenching around him like a vice.

“I couldn’t- fuck!” her teeth sunk into her bottom lip when he reached for her clit, rubbing it with the same intensity and speed as his cock kept penetrating her walls. “I couldn’t save you,” she cried out. “I couldn’t save you and it was my fault.”

Tears shot into his eyes. “Stop talking, please.”

“Please, Matty. Don’t leave me again.”

“I can’t do this,” he breathed back. “Not when you don’t feel the same way. It hurts. It hurts to love you.” He bit down on her shoulder to hide the guttural moan of pain and pleasure that spilled from his lips. 

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

He grabbed onto the headboard, his thrusts faltering. She gasped quietly, his fingers rubbing harder, knowing she was close to coming undone around him. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer and he didn’t want to be the first. No matter how upset he was, he would never come first. 

“I wish I could-”

He shushed her, kissing her lovingly. He lingered just a little bit longer, just a little bit more. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said. “All you need to do right now is cum so I can fill you up.”

“Oh, God!”

Her legs locked around his waist, walls clenching as she came all over his cock. He felt every last drop of her wetness coating him, her muscles contract, and her skin burn under his mere touch. He grunted into the crook of her neck, almost breaking the headboard with his grip.

“Fuck!”

He came right after her, spurting his cum into her cunt. Every time he finished inside of her, he marked her. He marked her to be his, to show he owned her inside and out. Though this time felt different. This time, filling her up with his seed made him sad in a way he had never been before. 

Eliza bit her lip. She knew he was crying. His tears pearled off her skin. The hold he had on her was inhuman. He didn’t want her to leave. He held onto her as if she was his world, which apparently, she was, and it made her chest contract with pure agony. She reached for his head, wanting to hold him and make him stop crying, but the second she touched him, he pulled out and fell on the mattress next to her. 

She clenched her thighs together as if that would change anything, as if that would get him back to stay inside of her and the clock to turn back to zero just so they could start again. She wanted the world to end and build itself up again for them to get a second chance.

But second chances don’t come to everyone. They come to hardly anyone. Hoping for a second chance only hurts you more than accepting that there might never be a second chance in this one life you have.

Eliza learned a good few life lessons over the time she knew Matt, some of those pleasant, the others the most painful things she ever had to experience.

“Matt,” she called for him softly. 

He wiped his cheeks. “Don’t apologize, not again. I can’t hear it anymore.”

“But I am sorry.” She reached out for him, stroking his bicep. He flinched under her touch. This was the first time he did. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting him go, and he slipped away into the void. “I wish I could tell you anything different,” she whispered, “but I can’t. I know sorry doesn’t even cut it close, but I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me.”

“This is not something you need to ask forgiveness for, Eliza.” He pulled the covers up and over their naked bodies. He didn’t call her sweetheart, not anymore. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I get it. You don’t feel the same way and that’s okay. I have to accept that. And I’m sorry for walking away like that, I… I was angry, not at you, but also at you, I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry for making you feel smaller than you are.”

“But you still want us to be over,” Eliza said. The words he was too afraid to say. “We’re not gonna try, we’re just over. That’s what you want?”

Matt nodded, once again wiping his cheeks to get rid of the annoying tears escaping his eyes. “Yeah, I think it’s the best choice.” One of the tears ran down his chest. “For the both of us, I think it’s better if we stop. So neither of us get hurt any more than we already are. I think that would be wise.”

She shivered. Her own tears weren’t so far away. “You’re right,” she admitted quietly. “That’s a wise choice to make.”

“Yeah.”

“So this is it?”

“I…”

“We’re over?”

“Yeah, I guess we are.”

“Okay.” She stared up at the ceiling the same way he did, trying to fight the tears of heartbreak. “Okay.”

He picked up on the slide of the door too late. “Do you guys want eggs or ba-aaaah, oh my God!” Foggy immediately turned around once he saw the tangled bodies on the bed. “Nope, nuh-uh. I didn’t see anything. I’m leaving. Okay. Never walking into your bedroom ever again. Got it!”

Matt scrambled to get his clothes back on, as did Eliza. The conversation between them died down, and it probably would never come back to life. Standing across from each other, she looked at him and he listened to her. This hurt. He didn’t want it to hurt. Neither did she, but they knew this was inevitable. They had to stop or it would only hurt more in the end. 

He reached out for her hand but stopped himself mid-way. Her breath shuddered. Still, before he turned to leave, he leaned forward to press an almost too gentle kiss to her heated forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed.

She nodded. “Me too.”

He slid the door open enough for him to fit through. No one else had to see her like this. He wished he could just bury himself in sand and die, but he knew there was no time for that. She knew that, too. They had to put on a show, live through this hurt with the reminder of what happened more than present each fleeting second, and they would have to do so until Hydra was gone and their lives could return back to normal.

The sound of the wood falling back in place broke the dam. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks and her body. Eliza didn’t sob, she just quietly cried into her hands. 

Well done, Eliza. Breaking everything you touch since the day you were born. 

When she looked up next, her eyes were empty. She stared at the wall, wiping her tears, and then she stared some more because, for the first time since she escaped Hydra, she shut her emotions off completely. She knew as soon as she did that, there was no going back. She would feel nothing until she would feel everything, but when that time came, she would already be dead. 

Now that she had nothing left to live for, she could focus on dismembering Hydra and not care about what happened to her. The promise she made was worthless without Matt by her side. If it meant she had to die, as Robert Pfeiffer said, she would do so in a heartbeat. 

Because that’s what heroes do. 

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x female!oc #foreigner's god #matt murdock x oc #human disaster matt murdock #matt murdock x original character #matt murdock smut #matt murdock imagines #marvel #foggy nelson #fanfiction #karen page #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #daredevil smut #smut #original female character #mcu characters #team cap #avengers #daredevil fic #matt murdock fic #charlie cox

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

MUSIC! Part two. 

Who has an earworm? I’ve a whole colony of them constantly screaming the Moon Knight soundtrack at me at all hours nonstop. 

EPISODE 2! There wasn’t a lot of music in this one. Not outright themes anyways. As an episode that was mostly just to move the characters physically and mentally to where they needed to be, it was dependent on the original background music. Re-exploring Harrow’s theme a lot too. Which in my mind sounds like a swinging cane or pendulum that is off balance. It also first introduces very very briefly the madness theme that plays heavily in episode 5. But let us look at what they did give us. 

Episode 2 Song list: 

Bela Lugosi's Dead - Bauhaus

Wael El Fashny 

El Melouk (feat. 3enba & Double Zuksh) – Ahmed Saad

The opening of episode two was so off guard. No music to open. Just the sounds of the Jackal getting his ass beat by Marc. Props to the sound team on this one! 

"Bela Lugosi's Dead" - Bauhaus 

OKAY. I thought this was a joke at first. And MAYBE IT IS. Bela Lugosi. The man that played the most famous version of Dracula. I think we all know about Moon Knight and his grudge against Dracula... 

The song plays briefly when Steven is looking for Marc’s secret storage unit. There is no way this wasn’t picked for the laughs and I appreciate this. We already know that Oscar Issac likes memes and vines. 

We also get a re-emergence of themes here. Bob Dylan briefly returns as Harrow shows Steven his community that he built, much like a cult leader. 

We also get to hear the moon knight theme as well, mixed in with the fighting theme. It’s stronger this time. There is more to show us. We get to see him fight and we get to see Marc’s first full emergence. We also get to see Marc’s first failure and how it affects him. 

The music tells the story, less in the background than it was in the first episode. Which leads me to this man: 

Wael El Fashny 

Wael El Fashny is the man behind that SOUND. 

The song is Estaweet. Mixed in with the original music it blends so well and makes you FEEL the big reveal as Marc throws back the curtian to reveal our first look at Cairo and the pyramids. You hear bits of this all over the place but Maaaannnn what a voice. What a sound! Go listen to his stuff. Right now. I'll wait. 

  The genius of this composer is taking older songs, classic Arabic songs that were big and had history or culture and pulling them into his more modern composing. Taking trap songs and remixes of these songs. It pulls people in and connects them. 

Estaweet, I am not going provide a translation for this one. I could not find a good one. The gist of it is: "My dear nights. My heart has been filled with pain, my only drink is regret." And it's about being apart from your love. But we hear his voice swell as we see Marc drunk in his regrets and pain. 

This directly falls into our first big end credit song. Again, I love how this show doesn’t give you standard rules. Are you going to get a theme song opener? Who knows. Are you going to get a new song every credit? Yes. Sometimes you get two end credit songs. 

This time we get this banger of an end credit song. Which has them all returning to Cairo to get shit done so thematically, it really works. As Marc’s first real episode it also really works. 

El Melouk (feat. 3enba & Double Zuksh) – Ahmed Saad

I like to listen to this song a lot. It’s peppy. It’s Arabic. It’s a jam. Rough translation: 

[Enaba]

I don't see y'all

You're some kids living on chasing girls

Every one knows your little worth

Everyone knows I'm bold/aggressive

I've never needed anyone

Not an exaggeration I swear

I Stand like a Lion amidst everyone

I was not raised to be mean

In execution I got rocket

I'm enab( grapes/ the meaning of the singer’s name ) from Mars my dude

In the middle of my wars I shoot missiles

In the middle of my country I am writing myself a history

[Zuka]

Habeby (Darling)

Baba , wе've arrived like a gang

Wе lived simply

You will make it if you have the will

I haven't asked for help I stood alone

Numbers calling on the phone

They loved me when I reached the top they started acting different

Your ball misses my ball scores

[Ahmed Saad]

Silence Silence Silence Silence

The Kings have arrived

There's no escape, from the Lions

We aren’t selling words

We're straightforward and upfront

Doesn't bother me who says a thing

The haters don’t belong here

[Young Zuksh]

You mess with me you'll see madness and neighbors will be showing up

God gave me wisdom in tongue, I eat yall with words

Young "Zuksh" came from Al-Salam, your brother is hazardous

I'm straight up and okay, so don't call me "my man"

I won every trophy

I put the poison in bottles

I served everyone who wanted some

I want what I want

I want you to understand and see what's good

[Ahmed Saad]

Look where were we

And where are we now

Those who forgot me in two days

L'll forget you for years"

Thanks to the conditions

That made me see the true nature of People whom I loved truly

And other people who should not be seen

[Enaba]

When I came everyone disappeared

It’s outta my hand, I'm a blast

It's difficult to see you from space

If you show up l'Il deal with you

Get away from me because l'm mean

From Cairo and better than the western

Your planet is different from my planet

By myself I can lead Tatar

[Young Zuksh]

I'm hot i'm hot i'm cheque

A car will get you anywhere if you got the money

It's known, Don't hang with silly friends my dude

We got you if you know loyalty

You'll be up (be up)

Even If my hair turns gray

We'll continue to the last day

Success is tough you can't be sleeping

Honestly, I see this song choice as more Marc than anything. Episode one was all about Steven, I think this one shows more Marc. You be the judge of that. 

Go listen to the music! Explore the artists! Find more to love! 

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight meta #Moon Knight music #I'm honestly just eager to get to episode 3 because daaammmn #Love finding out more about the older artists though #that man can sing

[aeoki]

Machina - Epilogue 2

Location: Machina Stage Characters: Mika, Shuu, Makoto & Sora

Shuu: Our performance will begin very soon.

Mika: Yeah. I always get nervous and excited right before we start. My head feels oddly clear but my body is achin’ ♪

Shuu: They’re good nerves. I hope you’ll perform with the same sort of mindset.

Kagehira. The digital art you made was unexpectedly not bad.

I had you actively take part in the making of the stage for “Machina” so that your inspiration wouldn’t go to waste.

But I didn’t think you would include something old-fashioned like a CRT TV.

When you see a large monitor and state-of-the-art technology together, it reminds me of junk art. Were you aware of the comparison between the two?

Mika: Ahaha. Are you givin’ me a compliment, Oshi-san?

But I’m glad you’re not angry. I really like this stage.

I had the idea when I heard you can have performances with projected images.

A long time ago, when I was in a dump site, there were heaps of TVs that had been thrown away.

It costs money to throw those things away, right? I thought there might actually be something that still works there – It was like a mountain of treasure before me.

I did consider that my artwork from the “Test World” might be rubbish in yer eyes, though.

In a world where another man’s trash is another man’s treasure, being able to make art without puttin’ on a bold front reminded me of my past feelings and it was a lotta fun…♪

And then, Oshi-san, you acknowledged digital art…

And I realised you really are the person I respect the most.

Shuu: Hmph. You get carried away the moment I’m nice to you… Junk is junk no matter the instrument.

I acknowledged it because the themes happened to match up this time, but I still haven’t allowed you to pick things up from the dump.

Mika: Ngh, t-that’s already somethin’ from the past!

We already settled that matter back then so that we don’t end up interferin’ with each other, right? Are you gonna be persistent and say I’m in the wrong again?

What a waste of my feelings~! It was my mistake to respect you, Oshi-san!

Shuu: Non! I did not mean it like that. Back then, Kagehira, you–

Makoto: *Whispers* The performance is about to start, you two.

Sora: *Whispers* Please get to your places!

Shuu: ...Ahem. We’ll get to the end of this later – Let’s focus on the performance.

Mika: …Yeah. It’ll be rude to our audience if they see us arguin’.

Alright, let’s go, Oshi-san.

We’ve got a song to perform for the people waitin’ for our art.

Mika: There’ll definitely be people who like us here, but I think there’ll also be people who disagree and are sceptical of us.

The people who got caught up in Oshi-san’s online flame wars and the incident in the “Test World” will probably not have good opinions about us.

But if they’ll listen to our song – even if it’s just a little – I’ll do my best to sing so that it reaches their hearts ♪

“♪~♪~”

Shuu: …Hehe.

Kagehira, you’ve improved yet again. Your voice sounds melodic and pleasant.

You’re not very good at what you do, but I do acknowledge your passion for art.

The digital world is something that simply takes shape with zero and binary numbers, but humans have a variable in the name of emotions. The one who makes that sparkle is, once again, you. Be sure to continue devoting yourself to that.

There are a number of things that exist in this world – be it one’s position and principles, ideas, the rich and poor, gender…

The finest people who disagree with me are not few and they most definitely exist.

But forgetting that sort of concept and questioning those who appreciate it is why art exists.

Nothing in the world is convenient. It can be irritating but it’s definitely not a dead end. You can ponder to yourself and walk around while making progress inside a labyrinth at the same time.

Shuu: The world that was created conveniently ended at the hands of Deus Ex Machina. However, reality causes us to be lost and although we may choose the wrong path, we have no choice but to continue onwards.

I wish for us to walk together in that awful reality.

Alongside you – someone who differs from me.

“♪~♪~”

← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

#machina

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hi!!! Congrats on 500 followers!!🤍

I’d love to take part in your event, so could I please request a ship with any character from the grishaverse?

My pronouns are she/her and I’m bisexual. I’m an Infp and my zodiac sign is Aries

I have brown eyes and light brown hair, I’m about 5’3 or 5’4. I dress often in black or grey or generally dark colours. I love wearing sweaters or turtlenecks, or anything elegant like elegant dresses. I also wear necklaces and lots of bracelets

My hobbies are horse riding and playing piano. I’ve been riding since I was 10 years old, and it is one of my favourite things in the world. It really helps me relax and I love learning new things. I haven’t been playing piano for a long while, but it’s really fun and I just love music in general so I decided to start playing piano

I’m also a huge bookworm, I have so so many books at home and I just love reading and drinking a tea. My favourite genres are fantasy, crime and romance. And my favourite book is six of crows

I’m from Germany, so I speak German, English (not perfectly, but I try) and I’m also learning French.

I’m a quite introverted person, I’m not really a fan of going out or going to places where there’s many people. I love doing stuff with my friends and family, but otherwise I prefer staying inside and watching movies or reading my books. I’m a very calm person, I hate conflicts or arguments and if it happens I try to solve them as soon as possible

I also love watching or listening to true crime, I think it’s very interesting

My love language is Words of affirmation

And yeah! I think that’s it!! I hope everything is understandable because my English isn’t that good

Anyways, I hope you have a great day!!🤍

hi :)

thank you for participating! and don’t worry, your english is good.

—

i ship you with matthias!

he’d think your beautiful, and would cherish the times he got to see you in a pretty dress. not that you aren’t pretty all the time, you’d just have this glow about you when you were wearing something that made you more confident. you sound like you’re quite feminine, and i mean that in a good way. i think he’d like that about you. nina is feminine too, but in a different way. while he likes her for her boldness and her authenticity, i think he’d like you for how much you remind him of home, and having the qualities of women that are under-appreciated. i think a lot of people, especially in fantasy, see a quieter more poised woman as weak, or lesser than, and i think matthias would totally disagree. he’d love that you like to ride horses, and that you learned how to play the piano. i think he’d appreciate that you find the time to do the things you enjoy, like reading and watching movies. i also think he would find you knowing a few languages very interesting, and be fascinated by how well you learn ones not native to you. i think as much as he loves nina’s boldness and how she can take care of herself, he’d respect that you avoid conflicts when you can. i think he values peace, and would respect you for your first thought not being violence. i think he also likes time to himself, and while being around the crows would be fun for the both of you, he’d understand that you need your time away from them to recharge.

i think he’d excuse you both from the group, and he’d take you somewhere quiet, maybe upstairs at the slat or the crow club, somewhere with a book. you’d look at him a little confused.

“what are we doing here?”

he’d smile. “you seemed a little worn down. i figured some peace and quiet would be nice for you. i knew you wouldn’t say anything to the group, so i had to.”

your eyes would soften. “oh, i didn’t mean to take you away from everyone. i’ll be fine, you can go back down—“

“no. i’m quite happy here with you, if that’s alright. read to me?”

you’d shyly smile, nodding. “this book isn’t in a language you know.”

his smile would grow as he sat down, motioning for you to sit next to him.

“that’s alright. i just want to hear your voice.”

—

since you said any gender is ok, i also ship you with inej :)

i think she’d like you for a lot of the same reasons matthias would. she’d enjoy someone like her, quiet and less outgoing. i think you have a lot of qualities of kaz, and she’d appreciate that. as much as i think she enjoys being around someone like jesper or nina, she’s quiet and solitary by nature, and needs someone who understands that. you’d sit together in comfortable silence, both at separate tasks. but she’d love those little moments between the two of you, enjoying just being around you. i think your easy going nature would bring her a bit out of her shell, and she’d enjoy small chats with you.

maybe she’d come in the window one day, surprising you.

“i brought you something.”

you’d turn around, smiling when you saw her. “you didn’t have to do that.”

“i wanted to. it’s not much, anyways. it’s suli tea, from ravka. you mentioned you liked it, and i thought i’d bring you some. it reminds me of home…you remind me of home.”

she’d blush, and you’d take her hand, giving it a squeeze. “thank you, my love. i love it.”

—

hope you enjoyed these! thank you again for participating, i appreciate you :)

#grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #inej ghafa x reader #inej ghafa #matthias helvar #matthias helvar x reader #six of grows x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #500 followers celebration #500 followers #followers celebration

[lotrojourney]

1, 10, 30, 39?

LOTRO ask game!

(I’m going to do both 38 and 39 because I have A LOT of opinions on the soundtrack, you have been warned.)

1 - How did you first get into LotRO? Do you remember when you started playing?

Aw man, I remember I started playing in the summer of 2014 when I’d just turned 13 and had no idea how MMOs worked but loved Tolkien to bits. I don’t remember exactly how I found out about LOTRO, but I’m pretty sure it’s just the fact that I like games and I like Tolkien that led me to it by chance on an internet search. My first character was a Burglar? A Hunter? Named Bronvien who never made it out alive from the server closures in Snowbourn. I’ve kept her there since out of posterity and remembrance, but maybe I’ll transfer her to Crickhollow or Landroval when transfers are open again, or remake her entirely. 

10 - Do you have any favorite reputation faction(s)?

Anything Rangers-related has my heart, they’ve been there since the beginning and continue to be a huge part of the game, so I make it a point to get to max rep with them whenever I can. A few other factions that are especially memorable to me the most are the Riders of Stangard, Men of Dunland, the Wilderfolk and the Grey Mountains Expedition!

30 - Do you take a lot of screenshots? (have any to show off?)

Absolutely, have these from some of my favourite outfit photoshoots! (Also going to shamelessly plug my outfit blog that’s going to be updated with new outfits very soon!)

38 - Do you have any favorite soundtracks from around the game?

Buckle up kiddos, y’all are about to hear some OPINIONS.

First off, I need to write a disclaimer, because absolutely nothing will ever top the Riders of Rohan and Helm’s Deep soundtrack for me, so anything from those two expansions are immediately off the table, but I’m still going share one favourite track from each of those regardless so you know where I’m coming from.

So to start, here are my two favourite tracks from Riders of Rohan and Helm’s Deep:

Riders of Rohan - Roaming Free I feel like if I had to pick one track that encapsulates Rohan, this is THE track. The chorus!!! The strings!!! I love everything about this so much and this reason I spend so much time in Rohan, even at level cap.

Helm’s Deep - Across the Divide On the other end of the spectrum, we have something more somber and foreboding. This one just tugs at my heart strings so much, and knowing what’s about to go down in Helm’s Deep makes it all the more oh-so-deliciously-tragic.

Anyway, there’s a lot of tracks that I love, but since so many of them are pretty well-known and beloved (like this dreamy track from Evendim), I’m going to talk about the tracks that I always stop to listen to and don’t think get enough attention:

Siege of Mirkwood - Gathbúrz A lowkey number that is only played in very specific parts of Southern Mirkwood. A hauntingly beautiful and dark track that ebbs and flows and keeps you on your toes as you approach Dol Guldur. I can listen to this one for days. I once accidentally put this on my phone speaker during class but it was so quiet and understated I didn’t notice it for a good half an hour.

Rise of Isengard - Nan Curunír variation Such a strong and memorable piece! The moment the trumpet and drums came in, I was hooked. It’s mysterious and menacing, but at the same time very grounded. It lets you know that it’s there and doesn’t shy away from being bold without being obnoxious.

Minas Morgul - The Sons of Isildur A gentle but powerful track that really captures the former glory of the Kings of Gondor. It’s been quite a while since we’ve had something so soft but so regal. This one’s not in a hurry, and carries with it a certain weight and grandiose amplified by the soft drums in the background. I have a lot of feelings about Minas Morgul and it shows.

Where Dragons Dwell - Memories of Tharrazhâr I don’t think I’ve heard a more beautiful track since Riders of Rohan, Bill Champagne really hit it out of the park with this one. There’s hope and desperation in equal measure in this track, it’s a whole journey rolled into five minutes and forty-two seconds. I remember playing through the expansion back in April 2020 in the middle of the pandemic and just being awed by the music and how well it fit Ered Mithrin and the writing.

And now with some honourable mentions:

Riders of Rohan - LOTRO Legacy This one holds so many memories for me, it was the menu music when I first started playing. It used to catch me off guard with how LOUD it was but now that it’s gone, I miss it dearly whenever I’m not running around in the Gap of Rohan. 

Mines of Moria - We Cannot Get Out Whenever I get tired of Moria, this one picks me right back up. This one’s like a gulp of fresh air and a glass of cold water when you’ve been underground for way too long.

Shadows of Angmar - Prancing Pony variation A delightful little jig that warms my heart, this is the one I keep in my Breeland houses.

39 - Are there any soundtracks you particularly dislike?

All of the following should not be taken as seriously as my “soundtracks that I like” essay review. I’ve had plenty of “girl why do you hate fun” discussions about the game with my best friend of 13 years and counting who also plays LOTRO, in which the soundtrack was brought up plenty of times. There may be some hot takes.

Shadows of Angmar - The Dunedain I actually like this track a lot, but the thing is this only plays in short bursts in so many “save the Rangers” and “fight by the Rangers” instances that it’s left somewhat of a bad taste in my mouth. It’s like only having the smallest crumb from the crust of your favourite pie. I LIKE this track. A LOT. But it’s just never played in full enough for me to appreciate it while playing the game, so I ended up listening to it outside of the game. No, seriously, I have it saved in my music folder so I can listen to it offline.

Pretty much everything that plays in Gondor EXCEPT THIS BELFALAS TRACK To me, every single track (except that one track) in Gondor feels...garish, gaudy, and intrusive. Everything is just too much and over-elaborate for me to enjoy. I’m also willing to give this Dol Amroth track a pass, but it’s on thin ice.

Shadows of Angmar - War Pipes I liked this track, until I didn’t. Incidentally, I also hate doing the Trouble in Tuckborough instance because I keep getting turned around in the dark in the godawful urban planning of The Shire. It’s not very fun trying to find your way around Tuckborough in the dark with bagpipes blasting in your ears. If it weren’t for Trouble in Tuckborough, I’d like this track more.

Elf music in general, unless there’s harps A very controversial take, but I can’t stand the cacophony of high-pitched flutes and vocals and shrill strings. I do enjoy the tracks where the harp is the dominant instrument though, like this one. I think it’s the amount of back and forth with Elrond in Volume 1 of the Epic that’s worn out Elf music for me.

#asks #lotro #lord of the rings online