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yyxgin · 3 years

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my only hate, my only love (kim seungmin)

pairing: kim seungmin x fem! reader genre: enemies to lovers au, highschool au angst, fluff word count: 11 k requested by: @joons-asscrack warnings: swearing, mentions of broken home

synopsis: A high school Shakespeare club angrily splits into two groups when they can’t agree on the correct interpretation of Romeo and Juliet. One group thinks it’s a cautionary tale about the stupidity of youth and shallow lust; the other group of youth thinks it’s a beautiful tragedy about poisonous hatred conquered by love. Reconciliation seems impossible-- then a person from one group falls in love with a person from the other.

(this dea is not mine !! I found it on pinterest under the tumblr user @/sarah531, however, i looked for the account and couldn’t find it. if you have any idea what the current @ of the owner of this prompt is, please let me know !!)

I actually used a lot of passages from this essay of Romeo and Juliet since I didn’t actually read it, all passages of the characters that talk about the play and are in italics belong to the rightful owner of this essay.

“A glooming peace this morning with it brings. The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head. Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things. Some shall be pardoned, and some punished. For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.” your voice resonates in the quiet classroom, your words followed by more silence as you drop to your seat and close the book, placing it onto your table. The reality sinks in as the entirety of your English literature class doesn’t dare to say a word, the moment you finish reading the oh so famous Shakespearen drama making everyone lose themselves in their thoughts.

Your professor looks you in the eye, smiling a little. “So? What did you think about it?” she asks, moving her glasses further up her nose with her pointer finger, gazing onto the few people that actually chose this class as their subject of choice just to get more credit. You liked reading, to be honest. Everything about this class seemed inviting-- there were only a few people there and those that did actually care about the literature itself enough were thoughtful enough to hold a proper conversation with. You actually made friends with a lot of your classmates, your brains working at the same frequency as your shared ex gifted child burnout syndrome draped over your brains way too often after arriving to high school, making you connect on another level as you tried to soothe each other’s nerves and be there for each other. It was no secret that only the biggest of nerds went to the English literature classes, but you were okay with that idea.

You snort out a laugh, raising up your eyebrows in amusement. Your classes were always open for discussions, so you didn’t even have to raise your hand to speak-- one of the perks of being the professor’s favorite. You open your mouth to begin talking, when a voice cuts you off, beginning the discussion instead.

“Well, I think it was pretty,” mumbles a boy from the corner of the room, the only one you didn’t even particularly like in this whole class, making you roll your eyes. It was hard, being in the class of your favorite professor when you had to fight over being her favorite student with Kim Seungmin himself-- the devoted dandy boy, the member of the book club, the student council president. You despised everything about him only from one sole reason-- he was the top of the class. That was enough for you to hate him.

You’re asking why? Well, you were supposed to be the top of the class, of course. And you were, for the main part. You didn’t share any other classes with him, making it easy for you to ignore his existence, but it just so happened that your favorite class also had to be the one where you had to see his face so often.

He was your moral enemy.

“Care to tell us more, Seungmin?” professor Jung asks, motioning for your classmate to continue speaking, to tell her all of his thoughts. You knew Romeo and Juliet must have been her favorite play by the smile on her face, eager to hear all of your reviews and thought processes while reading the piece.

“Well, I think it was quite poetic. Tragic, even. I like the way Shakespeare portrayed the prejudice and ending of a long conflict just with the power of love.” he nods, licking his lips after his bold statement, making you laugh out loud this time.

All the eyes of your classmates turn to you, even your seatmate-- ever so laid-back and chilled out Han Jisung furrows his brows at your sudden outburst. You were never the one to turn attention your way in classes, the sight of you not reddening under the gazes of the people in the room nowhere to be seen surprising even you.

“Is there something funny, Y/N?” asks the professor, calling you by your first name. You liked the way it sounded, cringing at every teacher that called you by your last name as if you were a legal adult with your life figured out. This seemed more friendly-- it seemed kinder, even. You liked the way it made it feel like your professor actually cared about your opinion.

“I think there is, yes,” you nod, giggling to yourself again.

“And what is that?” she seems intrigued, taking a few steps to your desk, listening to what you have to say.

“Well, I think what he said is ridiculous.” you point out, a shock spreading on your professor’s features, making you continue. “The only thing tragic about this whole play is how Shakespere portrayed the fake image of love. I mean, Juliet was only 13, don’t you think it was a bit early to get married to a man? After a day, that is?” you explain, intriguing your classmates even more.

“It was the 16th century. It was normal to get married young back then,” mumbled your enemy, Kim Seungmin from his seat, locking his eyes with you through the classroom.

“Of course I know that,” you ironically smile at him, rolling your eyes in the process and looking back at your professor with a genuine smile this time, explaining more of your point of view, “I think it portrays girls as boy-crazy. Like love is everything they are made of and that they are worthless without a partner-- and that’s why Juliet chose to kill herself. If anything, I think it portrays the stupidity of the youth the most.”

“So you think she was stupid just because she killed herself upon seeing her loved one dead?” Seungmin’s brows are raised now, looking at you as if he was mocking you.

“Well, Romeo did the same thing, so yes. I think it was stupid of them. They were reckless, the whole situation was. How could they know they were in love when this all happened in one day? Nobody can fall in love that quickly.” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I think the play portrayed love at first sight beautifully,” grins Seungmin, the teasing smirk on his face bothering you so much you want to wipe it off his face. Is he really that ridiculous?

“There’s no such thing. And what were the families doing, after all? Arguing without even knowing why? For all we know, their ancestors may have hated themselves because they accidentally took their cow and they decided to kill each other for that?” you scoffed, your voice raising increasingly.

“Now that’s ridiculous.” rolls his eyes Seungmin, taking you over the edge, your voice raising with every spoken word.

“Your view of love is ridiculous. If I knew the boy I was eyeing was my family’s enemy, I wouldn’t bat an eye before dropping him, but no, she chose to marry the guy. Did she really have such twisted morals?” you scoff, a part of your class laughing at your outburst.

You hear a few quiet, amused ‘yeah’s and ‘she’s actually right’s from everywhere around you, only flooding your ego more as you recognise that your point of view is shared by more people and you aren’t actually crazy.

“I think love is more important than rivalry.” speaks Seungmin, cocking his head to a side, teasing you just by the look on his face, your eyes scanning his features as you hear a few other comments from your classmates around you. Some girls even go as far as cooing at his romantic statement, making you laugh and roll your eyes at them. Were they all this ridiculous?

“She was thirteen!” you argue, screaming. That is all that takes professor Jung to interfere your heated discussion, clapping her hands in authority, making everyone’s heads snap to her figure standing in front of the classroom with an amused look on her face.

“Looks like we have quite the discussion here,” she points out, seeing your angered face.

“Yeah, because Seungmin’s point of view is stupid!” you grunt, making her point a scolding look into your skull that almost makes you shrink in your seat in embarrassment.

“Y/N, no one’s point of view is stupid. Literature is all about the impertretation,” she states, earning a few nods and hums from your interested classmates, “now, who agrees with Y/N’s interpretation of the play?”

A few hands shoot out into the air, Jisung’s following as you angrily nudge him into his side, making you grin. No way your friend is going to support your moral enemy’s idea-- he was your friend, after all. Something inside of you is telling you that this whole feud wasn’t only about the play anymore,. You were fighting with Kim Seungmin, and that was enough to keep you standing by your point.

“And who agrees with Seungmin’s interpretation?” she asks again, searching through the classroom. It seems like the amount of people that agree with your classmate is about the same as the amount of people that agree with you, making you annoyingly roll your eyes at the realisation that you once again didn’t manage to outpower your moral enemy.

“I see the classroom has split into two teams,” she grins, nodding her head, “well, I did think you were going to have different opinions on this, but I didn’t think it was going to get so heated over here.” she points out, switching her gaze from you to Seungmin and back, as if to scold you and support you with your antics all at once.

“Yeah, well, it’s not my fault Y/N can’t appreciate one of the most important pieces of English literature-”

“I’m all about supporting, if it was actually good and meaningful-”

“Stop it, you two!” she scolds you, making both of you shut up and finally provide some silence in the room. “Well, since you all look like you have different opinions on the topic, let’s try a fun experiment. I was going to make you all write an essay on the play by yourselves, just like we usually do, but I think this is going to be much more fun for all of us.” she states, smiling to herself like a happy child on Christmas. You wonder what’s racing through her head as she searches through the classroom, locking eyes with you, then continuing.

“I want you all to write an essay and do a presentation on Romeo and Juliet-- you can write about anything, whether it is your ideas, what you took from the play, what is your view-point on it. But you have to write it with the person who has the exact opposite opinion on this play. So this way, we can get the story from two points of view. Let’s see what you agree on, what you don’t, make it a discussion, I don’t care, just make it make sense. Do you understand me?” she smiles and you swear you can already feel what is going on before she says it, making your head hurt and breath hitch in your throat.

“And since Seungmin and Y/N seem to have the most different opinions on this, I am picking them as a pair-- no, there’s no way for the two of you to change.” she says before you can even open your mouth to argue back, leaving you to stand up from your seat just at the time when the bell rings.

“But miss Jung-”

“I want it done until the end of this month.” she smiles, taking her things and leaving the classroom, letting the thought sink in. You lunge yourself back to your seat, defeated and left to process the fact that you now had two weeks to work on a project with Kim Seungmin-- your biggest enemy.

A sigh escapes your seatmate’s mouth upon the scene, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “That’s what you get for always picking fights with him.”

That’s how you end up in a coffee shop two blocks away from your house. You didn’t exactly ask for Kim Seungmin’s number-- you weren’t in the 2000s anymore-- you swiftly added him on Facebook in order to get this over with so you wouldn’t have to meet with him anymore. Yes, you were mad at Mrs Jung for pairing you up with him, but you still adored her and wanted to do well, so that’s why you chose to do what you had to and arranged a meeting with him.

Kim Seungmin appears in the coffee shop in his usual cozy demeanour-- oversized sweater and everything, with a backpack hanging off his shoulder and a serious look plastered on his face. He places his copy of Romeo and Juliet onto the table and sits his figure into the chair right in front of you, sighing heavily as he stares at you from under his eyelashes, voice low and defeated.

“Hi.” he greets, resting his back against the head of the chair, waiting for you to take initiative. You were the one who arranged this whole thing in the first place, so it was kind of your responsibility now in his books.

“Hello,” you cleared your throat. You felt like you were sitting there with the devil himself, just begging yourself in your head not to explode like a raging volcano with every movement he made that always somehow ended up irritating you. It was like his aura was everything you despised-- his collected way of discussing and his calm way of thinking getting on your nerves with every sigh he sent your way.

“So… how do you wanna go around this?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at you in question.

You sigh back at him just to show him how annoyed you are by your professor’s choice of your partner, bringing your hands to rest them on the table and cracking your knuckles in nerves. You didn’t meet his eyes, you felt too intimidated to do so in the moment, before you spoke up and managed to get your point across.

“Well, since we have to gather both of our viewpoints in the essay, I think we could just start of by telling the other one what topics we want to talk about so the other one can debunk them.” you mumble, suddenly feeling nervous by the possibility of your idea being rejected. If you could disappear on the spot, believe me, you would.

Seungmin hums from his seat, nodding. “Seems reasonable.”

You try your hardest not to let out a relieved sigh, nodding back at him. “I brought some notes.”

You did some preparation for this. Well, a lot of preparation. There was no way Kim Seungmin could catch you unprepared at your study meeting. You wanted to prove to him that you were worth so much more than sharing your grade with him and if he had any snarky or teasing remark, you best believe you mastered up a response just as spiteful, if not more than what could possibly leave his lips in the moment. You weren’t here to embarrass yourself. You were here to look smart. Smarter than Kim Seungmin.

“Perfect.” he just mutters, taking the sheet of paper you were offering to him from your hand, placing it on the table in front of him and skimming his eyes through the lines of text you scribbled down yesterday evening.

The silence makes your palms sweat. It makes you nervously bite down on your lower lip. You felt embarrassing-- you were never the conservative type. All this time, you used to hate your classmate from afar. You never actually spoke to each other, all you did to express your hatred for the boy was in the way you always rolled your eyes when he spoke up in class, or you sighed when Mrs Jung was complimenting him in front of everyone, making sure he heard you. You don’t know what broke in you that day-- you were quite the shy type, to be honest. You didn’t like to be the centre of attention. What were you even thinking by all of this?

“I don’t think we should mention their age as an argument,” he says, finally meeting eyes with you.

“Why?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Because as I already said, it was long ago. People used to marry young.” he shrugs, offering the sheet of paper back to you with a judging look on his face.

“Okay and? My point still stands. They were too young and reckless.”

“I also don’t think we should talk about the sex part.” he concludes, landing his hands into his lap.

“Why? Because it’s controversial?” you teasingly grin at him, waiting for his response.

“No. Because it clearly brings nothing to the table about our arguments. It doesn’t even really play a big role in the whole thing, so I think it’s useless to mention,” he shrugs, looking at your face. It felt like his eyes were studying you, judging you. It was hard to keep eye contact with him-- so you didn’t. You averted your gaze out of the window, opting to watch the passer-bys instead.

You sigh, waiting for him to say something against your notes again. Of course you could expect this-- there was no way Kim Seungmin would agree with anything you’re trying to say in the matter at all.

“And the point about Rosaline is a little over the line as well…”

“What do you want me to put in the essay if you’re just going to tell me it’s unreasonable and over the line, huh?” you voice out, pinning your eyes onto his shocked figure, “it’s supposed to be an essay on everything I didn’t like about it, so that’s what I’m going to put in it and your job is to comment on my arguments. Just like my job is to comment on what you loved about this piece of shit of a play, and that’s what I’m going to do, so fuck off.” you growled, standing up and taking your things with you, too frustrated and hot-headed to continue the discussion.

Only Kim Seungmin could make you this mad and you hated him for it even more.

You hear your door open, revealing your mum standing in the doorway with a mug of hot tea and a soft smile playing with her features. You sigh, playing with your pen in your hand, waiting for her to say what she needs to say and leave so you could have some silence to finally work.

“Sweetie, you should really relax for a while. You’ve been studying for the whole day…” she mumbles, taking the tea to your desk and running a hand through your hair. You fight off the urge to pull away from her, knowing damn well it would hurt her feelings, so you just opt to nod at her face and faking a smile.

“Yeah, sure, mum.” you respond, but make no effort in getting up from your chair and moving to your bed. It was already late in the night and your mum was wearing her pyjamas, signaling that she was going to sleep. She always went to sleep early, because she needed to wake up in the early hours of the day to go to work, but you usually didn’t go to sleep earlier than midnight anyway-- homework was taking you too much time sometimes.

“I mean it. You’re doing great job in school, sweetie, but you have to lay off for a while or else you’ll overwork yourself.” she says affectionately, making you grunt on the inside.

“Okay, okay, go to sleep now, good night mum…” you mumble, waiting for her to finally leave you alone.

“Are you telling me to go away?” she asks with a hint of laugh in her voice that you know for a fact is fake, because the expression on her face looks hurt. You hate to see that face, because it makes you feel guilty, but you really can’t help yourself sometimes.

“No.” you mutter, shaking your head.

She just stares at you for a while, biting down on her lower lip, before she hangs her head low and sighs out. She turns around, taking a few steps to your door, turning around only for a moment when she stands in the doorway and whispers a quiet ‘good night’ at you, closing the door behind her and disappearing into her bedroom.

You feel a sense of relief coming over you. Of course you weren’t going to sleep yet, but she didn’t have to know that. She didn’t have to know a lot of things.

The small, old copy of Romeo and Juliet falls into your eyes in the corner of your desk. You had to borrow your book from the library and you hated how some pages were torn and the ink was so old it was hard to read sometimes, but you couldn’t afford to buy yourself one, because you were saving up for college and every cent counts in your household.

You take it into your hands, reading over the passages you bookmarked when you were first reading the book, wanting to refresh your memory with the lines that stood up to you and made you snort at how ridiculous the book truly was again before typing them down into the document you had opened in front of you.

“Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- it’s everything except what it is!” it says. You run your fingers along the words, the curves of the ink cutting you like a knife. Love is all of these things-- it’s terrifying and it’s unpredictable. It sounds scary in your ears and you’ve seen it right in front of your eyes- love is everything except what it is.

Love isn’t heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold. Love isn’t sick and healthy. Love is pain. It takes everything you have, it ties you down, it makes you do things you would never do if you weren’t in love. It intoxicates you and makes you make bad decisions. When you love, you’re irresponsible. You’re like a storm.

Your mum and your dad were in love. Or, your mum always told you they were.

So if your mum and your dad were in love, they were supposed to be together through the heavy and the light. Through the bright and through the dark. Through sick and healthy. They were supposed to be there for each other.

They were both really young when they fell in love. You understand-- they were reckless and they were stupid.

But did your father really have to leave you?

Love is nothing from the above. Love is sick and love is just a play. It would be stupid to be hung up on that idea that Kim Seungmin so desperately wanted to believe in.

“So, how far did you get with the essay?” asks Jisung on your lunch break, looking at you with expectation. You told him about your planned meeting with Seungmin, but you didn’t get around to telling him just how it went yet.

“Oh, that…” you mumble, letting out a dry chuckle, “well, he told me my ideas are stupid, so I’m just going to write it by myself and send it to him so he can add his points into it.” you shrugged, taking a bite from your sandwich, stuffing your cheeks with the food so you didn’t have to explain any further.

Jisung sighs in front of you, rolling his eyes like every time you gush about Seungmin and how he gets on your nerves. “Can you lay off that Anne and Gilbert attitude already?”

“Stop saying that, that’s disgusting,” you scrunch up your nose, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Well, it looks like you two are doing a whole 21st century remake right in front of our eyes, though,” chuckles Jisung, teasing you further, “with that whole top of the class students that hate each other and act like children just because they don’t agree on something. It’s only a matter of time before you fall in love.”

“Ew,” you fake a gag, rolling your eyes at him, “that is so not happening.”

“Yeah, sure, tell me about it at your wedding in a few years.” he mutters.

“I am not getting married in my whole life, marriage is wack,” you roll your eyes at him for the millionth time, the gesture so familiar to you over the past few days. Everything seems to annoy you recently. Maybe you were just going through a bad patch, who knows?

“Oh would you look at that, Y/N’s acting like a Grinch again,” giggles Jisung, ruffling your hair in the process just to annoy you even more, making you pull away abruptly from his touch.

“That doesn’t even make any sense! Grinch hates Christmas, not fake images of love.” you argue back, finishing your sandwich and rolling the plastic that was covering it into a little ball, throwing it into his face to shut him up.

“Yeah, sure.” he snorts, throwing the ball back at you. You catch it in your hands with a promise to yourself to throw it out when exiting the cafeteria later, when you feel a light tap on your shoulder that makes you turn around.

The sight in front of you makes you shoot your eyebrows up in shock, leaving you flustered and surprised. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to ask when we can hang out again to work on that essay, since it’s, you know, like half of our final grade…” mutters Seungmin, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly and pointing his eyes at you, casually waiting for your answer.

“Oh, we’re not meeting again. I’m just going to email you the file when I’m done.” you shrug.

“But that’s unfair to me?” he offers, eyebrows shooting up and his hand falling to his side.

“Why would it be?”

“That gives me less time to work on it, you know. And you have to add your comments to my work anyways, so it would mean you’ll have to write those at the last-minute.” Seungmin explains, his tone of voice calm and collected, just as always, after all, making you roll your eyes and fume up again.

“I don’t really care,” you shrug, smiling ironically at his face.

“Why- what?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned and confused, eyebrows scrunching up and his voice raising a little by an octave.

You don’t answer him, though. You’ve had enough of his snarky comments and remarks in the coffee shop-- you weren’t going to meet up with Kim Seungmin again, even if it meant the possibility of getting a bad grade from your most favorite and treasured subject.

After the boy is met with silence, all he does is scoff at you, shooting his arms up into the air and shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re such a fucking child, oh my god.”

And with that, he strides off, your eyes following his every move to make sure he doesn’t come near you again. His steps are quick and angry, and this is actually the first time you’ve seen him get so frustrated with something. You take pride in getting him over the edge. You were finally even. He doesn’t look back once and you think you finally made it.

“Stop staring, Anne.” you hear from your friend sitting right in front of you, making you break away from your bubble and taking a look at him, seeing him amused and with a teasing grin plastered on his face.

“Fuck off.”

“Peace? I hate the word as I hate hell and all Montagues.” Mrs Jung reads out, when you start dozing off in the class. You’ve read the play a lot of times already, making you feel bored even by the repetitiveness of your class. You understand that she is just waiting for all of you to turn in your papers, not wanting to move on from Romeo and Juliet just yet, but you find yourself slowly falling asleep under the spell of her voice and the fact that you spent the whole night studying again. The sentence startles you awake, making you chuckle to yourself.

‘Peace? I hate the word as I hate hell and Kim Seungmin himself,’ you think. If Han Jisung could read minds, he would be surely teasing you with another smart remark of how much energy you’re spending by hating the poor boy and how it’s not possible for you to not fall in love with him soon after how much time he spends in your mind, but Han Jiung can’t read minds. And even if he could, you’d just tell him to fuck off. Because he is wrong.

“Am I boring you, Y/N?” asks Mrs Jung, fully startling you awake as you straighten your back and properly sit on your uncomfortable chair again.

“Of course not!” you call out, blinking rapidly to keep your eyes from closing on themselves again.

“Oh, I thought I was, by how tired you seem by listening to me.” she just smiles at you, then continues talking and looks at the other students in your class, leaving you to blush to yourself without giving you more attention.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, looking around the classroom. You feel embarrassed. You really didn’t mean to give your favorite professor the wrong idea-- you just got to bed really, really late yesterday. It happened often, but you guess that it just took a bigger stroll on you today.

Your eyes meet the orbs of your moral enemy, that just gazes into you with intensity. You quickly look away. Why is he doing that? His eyes look worried. He’s not supposed to look at you in such a way-- he’s supposed to laugh at how you’ve just been scolded. He just won a few points to himself by paying more attention than you, he just got on the better side with your favorite professor, yet he doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it at all.

A small piece of paper catches your interest from the corner of your eye. You read through it, recognising the loopy handwriting of your seat-mate.

did you stay up late studying again?

You sigh, taking a pen out of your pencil case and neatly writing under it, trying not to get caught by Mrs Jung. You really don’t want to get scolded for the second time today.

yeah

you should probably relax a little, your grades are already good to begin with

You roll your eyes at the note. Of course he’d say something like that. In elementary school, your grades were good without even trying. All you had to do was pay attention in class and write what you could remember, but now, in high school, everything is a little harder for you and you suddenly weren't good enough anymore. And yeah, you could say that grades don’t even matter that much, but for you, they meant everything.

yeah that’s bc i study jisung

now you’re falling asleep tho how is that helping

You don’t answer him. It’s not that he’s wrong. It’s just that… you’re not going to tell him that he is. Yes, you falling asleep wasn’t helping you in the tiniest, because the less you pay attention in class, the more you have to study at home, and the more you study, the less you sleep, which means you’re going to fall asleep in class the next day and it’s just an endless cycle.

sorry :( but just remember that grades aren’t everything Anne you can get an F once in a while

thanks

You write. But you don’t really mean it.

Because if you get an F, you’re not going to be the top of the class anymore.

And how will you get a scholarship if you’re not?

You arrive to the library, sighing to yourself as you quickly take your coat off and smile to Mrs Kim, the older librarian that let you work here part-time for the time being. You didn’t get paid much, but you loved the job. For the most part, it was easy-- there weren’t many people coming to libraries these days anymore and you could just stay behind the counter, occasionally letting people borrow books and writing them into the evidence. You had a lot of time to study there as well, it was silent and calm. Sometimes, you felt like your heart could rest a little in the small place.

“I’m sorry for coming late Mrs Kim, but the bus was late so I couldn’t get here sooner-” you rush out out of breath, dropping your backpack under the counter, ready to change seats with your employer that was done with her shift for the day.

“It’s totally okay, sweetheart, you know there’s no rush.” she smiles at you, reassuring your nerves with the gesture. You were glad you had such caring people around you. You met with Mrs Kim more than you did with your own mother-- it was strange, but comforting to know that at least someone close to a parental figure was still in your life.

Maybe you just hung yourself into older, reliable people because you lost the security you had in your own mother. Or because you didn’t even have a father to begin with. You don’t know if you’re doing the right thing, but in your heart, it surely feels like you are.

You nod at her, seeing her leave and wave at you as she takes her things with her before you’re left alone with your thoughts. You sit yourself on the chair, looking around for a moment, before you take out your notes and start working on your homework. The library felt like a safe space-- not that you didn’t have the silence and comfort at your own home, since you were home alone all the time anyway-- but here, at least you felt like there was a reason behind your loneliness. You were at work, after all.

You wonder if things would have been different for your mum if she didn’t have you so young. Maybe she would still be happy with your dad-- maybe she wouldn’t have to work a lot just to get you through life. It’s not easy, raising a child on your own when you are a child still, you realise that. And your mother does a good job-- at least you think she is-- but sometimes, you wish your life would be different.

You curse at your mother for being so reckless when she was young. If you’d be born later, she’d finish school. Give you a better life. Maybe, you would even have a father. You would be a little happy family, going on vacations and enjoying your lives.

Now, you’re stuck with trying your hardest to be the best at everything. To have your life figured out, because at your age, your mum surely didn’t. You know you shouldn’t blame her-- you need two people to create a child, but there was no other person for you to blame.

You try your hardest to get a scholarship, because you can’t pay for college on your own. You work so your mother doesn’t have to stay at her job over-night so often just to pay the bills. You educate yourself to be smart and successful-- because that will surely change your life for the better, right?

Suddenly, you hear the bell above the door of the library ring, startling you away from your thoughts. You look that way with a polite smile on your face you’ve taught yourself while working at customer service, ready to greet the customer with fake enthusiasm, when your mouth hangs open without a word. Startled would be an understatement to the feeling you feel at the moment.

“Hello,” the person greets politely, looking at you momentarily before going up to the counter with a stack of books in his hands. He looks up after placing them on the surface and that’s the moment when you see he realises your presence fully-- after seeing his face fall into shock.

“Good afternoon,” you grunt ironically, taking the books closer to yourself so you can check them in, recognising his eyes following your every move from the corner of your eye, “your ID?” you raise up your eyebrows at him, annoyance apparent in your features.

“Oh, right,” he catches himself, quickly patting every pocket of his clothing, until he puts up his hand into his backpack and browses through his wallet, slender fingers offering you the little card so you can scan the code.

The computer freezes for a bit and you curse to yourself-- did it really have to happen now? With Kim Seungmin watching you like an alien? The computer at your local library wasn’t the newest, per say. It didn’t even have to be, your usual customers were just as old, if not even older than that piece of machinery, they didn’t mind waiting. But now wasn’t the time for the computer to freeze. You feel yourself losing your nerves, bouncing your leg up and down, angrily glaring at the screen.

A minute passes, than another-- could it even get worse than this?

“So,” clears his throat Seungmin, making you snap your head up to meet his gaze, “what’s up?” he asks, shocking you again.

“Why do you care?” you snap, glaring at him instead. How dare he act so casually after saying all those mean things to you? You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Because you’re my classmate…?” he furrows his brows, tone of voice cautious, sounding like a question instead.

“And?” you ask, watching the screen of the computer instead, cursing at the new electronic system Mrs Kim decided to install. It would have been so much easier if you could just scribble down your signature on a small piece of paper and take the books like you used to do before, but no, she was all about innovation.

“And I thought we were civil enough for a casual conversation,” he rambles, making you snort in disbelief.

“Oh, we are anything but civil.” you respond, losing your nerves, taking your hand and angrily hitting the top of the screen, as if it was supposed to make the computer work. You violently curse under your breath, hitting it a few times, each one more lightly, until the program starts to work, finally registering the books back into the library evidence.

“Why do you even hate me so much?” he asks after you stop, looking at you with annoyed eyes and a look worthy of an oscar-winning actor. He didn’t care, you knew that, but he sure looked like he did.

You just scoff at him, shaking your head.

“Goodbye,” is all you offer him, his library ID in your hand, before he takes it and rolls his eyes at you again, like many times before. With that, he leaves-- just like you wanted him to-- and you can finally relax.

You sigh out, taking a seat on your chair again, angirly shutting your textbooks close and grunting under your breath. You put your head into your hands, resting them on the table, breathing heavily. You won’t even be able to study now, and it’s all thanks to him.

Why do you even hate him so much?

Kim Seungmin is an interesting individual. As you continue to work in the library the next week, you meet him there every single day. You don’t even have the energy to bark at him anymore-- he slid into your life like a gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe. Always there, but you never get used to it and it’s still annoying when you walk around.

Kim Seungmin is your moral enemy, as we already established. He comes into the library every day and you’re convinced it’s just because he wants to piss you off, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of letting him rile you up anymore. You just silently glare at him and sigh when the timing feels right to show him how much you actually still hate his presence.

He comes back one day while you’re working on your essay, sitting at the table with furrowed eyebrows and the end of your pen trapped between your teeth. The copy of the play is sitting open right in front of you and his eyes fall into it, recognising the underlined replicas and words. You didn’t work on that essay together ever since your first meeting and the due date was nearing, all he wanted to do was review it with you to at least know what he was getting into.

“Can you even read all of these books in a day when you keep coming back for more every time?” you grumpily mumble as you check back the books you, as the librarian, let him borrow yesterday. They are quite thin, but still, you doubt he was so quick to read all of them in a single afternoon.

“Why do you care?” he asks, snickering to himself. Of course, here he is-- annoying every single cell and fiber of your body again.

“Oh, trust me, I don’t. It’s just getting a little annoying.” you ironically smile at him, sitting back to your chair as you finish lending him the new stash of books. You’re not even sure where he got all of these from, since they don’t even look that interesting, but you choose not to think about it any longer as you get back to your essay, scribbling onto the lined paper.

“I like what you’ve written so far,” he says, startling you. You thought he left already-- I mean, why would he even stay? But he didn’t and he was standing right in front of you, eyes skimming over your messy handwriting.

“No you don’t. You’re arguing against me.” you snap back, darting your eyes to him, seeing him sigh.

“Whatever,” he shakes his head, “I was just wondering when you’re going to finally stop being so childish so we can work on that project together, you know.”

“I’m not childish-”

“Stop arguing with me for once, for god’s sake!” he rushes out, throwing his arms in the air in nerves, huffing out in frustration. “Look, I’ll be here tomorrow. The same time. I’ll bring my things and if you still don’t let me work with you, I won’t write anything and we’ll get a bad grade together. Take it or leave it.”

And with that, he is gone.

Fuck Kim Seungmin.

Turns out your enemy is a man of his word.

He truly does show up the next day-- with his backpack slung on his shoulder, cute big glasses sitting on his nose and a stack of papers in his hands. He raises his brows at you upon arriving and you just let out a defeated sigh.

You put a lot of thought into this yesterday evening. Did you hate Kim Seungmin? Of course you did. Was he really annoying? Yes. But were you going to get a bad grade just because of that? Not a chance.

And so you choose to give up on the small war and let him sit in front of you, you let him casually ask you questions about the essay and surprisingly, you answer. It is kind of easy, working with a partner on the same exact level as you, because, and now, don’t get me wrong, you love your classmates, but it seemed like you did all the work all the time. It was nice to have somebody by your side that actually managed to do something and took his part responsibly.

“So, since we’re not just gonna go there and argue right from the start, I wrote a little something about William Shakespeare and his background as well in the introduction, I actually didn’t get around to writing the introduction to the play itself, but-”

“Oh that’s fine, I have it done. We can just stick that in there,” he smiles at you warmly, taking you by a surprise.

You’ve never seen Kim Seungmin smile at you. It was strange to act so friendly around him. Perhaps you were really losing your mind while studying so much.

“Perfect.” you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“I also have the general storyline written down so you don’t have to do that…” he mumbles, looking away for a while when your eyes meet. Is this supposed to be so awkward?

“Nice.” you opt to simply reply in your usual cold nature, nodding.

“Can you tell me which topics you wrote about? So I know if I need to write my part about more things…” he takes the initiative again and you’re actually kind of glad, because that means you don’t have to think of the schedule of your little meeting anymore.

“Oh, right,” you say, shuffling around in your papers, “um… I just wrote about the age aspect, how reckless their love was, the image of love itself in the play, I also wrote about how meaningless the rivalry was…” you mumble, averting your eyes to the blue ink on the paper.

“Awesome, so we have all of that done… except from the love thing. Okay, I’ll write it next time I come around, since I have tutoring in a few,” he smiles, standing up from the chair, taking all of his things with him.

“Next time?”

“Yeah, well, we still have to finish it. You’ll be here on Tuesday, right? Since the class is on Thursday, so we can have time for the finishing touches.” he proposes, leaving you staring at him, startled.

“O...kay,” you nod, watching him leave.

“Perfect! I’ll see you around, bye!” he cheers, escaping the library that now feels so much hotter than before, leaving you all alone. You notice his tall figure rushing the other way of the library, watching it until it disappears completely out of your sight.

You notice how hot your cheeks are, bringing a hand to rest against the burning surface, taking deep breaths to somehow calm down the racing heart you are only recognising now, that he’s gone.

You still have a lot of work to do before Tuesday-- one of your tasks, it seems, is to try to not fall for his friendly nature and welcoming smile. Because perhaps, he was right all along-- why do you even hate him so much?

Kim Seungmin has always been your moral enemy-- you despised everything about him, from the way he was always so calm and collected, so sweet and caring, so smart and thoughtful. You despised his composure. You despised the way he always somehow managed to make friends with everyone around him no matter who the person was.

He was everything you weren’t. You were just the quiet kid from a broken family that always had to look after herself. You were the kid that had to keep on trying to be the best one, because your mind didn’t let you accept the second place.

Yet now, that Kim Seungmin is sitting right in front of you with a sweet smile plastered onto his features and a stack of notes in his hands, making your heart race with his every move, you start to quietly doubt your silent hatred for the boy.

He makes it so easy to be likeable. You’re jealous of him.

“Okay, so, do you want to start reading? I think it might help us to have a run down before presenting this on Thursday,” he asks you, leaving you to take a deep breath in, nodding to yourself.

You skip the introduction bits-- both of you know a little too much about the play and its author already, you have no reason to be reading those parts out loud. Something inside of you starts shaking at the thought of presenting your work to him. You were never really good with presentations, your quiet nature leaving you getting hot in the cheeks and stammering every time you had to read in front of the class, but now, it feels even worse with the boy staring at you, listening to everything you have to say.

“They say Romeo and Juliet describe a love that surpasses all boundaries, but a close reading of the play suggests the lovers’ feelings are more complicated than pure love. If we look, we can find plenty of evidence that Romeo and Juliet’s love for one another is, at least initially, immature. Romeo begins the play claiming to be passionately in love with another woman, Rosaline. When he sees Juliet, he abandons Rosaline before he has even spoken to his new love, which suggests that his feelings for both women are superficial. Juliet, meanwhile, seems to be motivated by defying her parents. She is unenthusiastic about her parents’ choice of husband for her, and at the party where she is supposed to meet Paris, she instead kisses Romeo after exchanging just fourteen lines of dialogue with him. When Romeo returns to see Juliet, she is focused on marriage. For Juliet, part of the appeal of marriage is that it will free her from her parents: ‘I’ll no longer be a Capulet’,” you read out quietly. The room is silent, you can even hear the passing cars outside of the window, but Seungmin says nothing. You pay a daring look to him, finding him focused on your face, which makes you shakily drift your eyes back, reading some more so you can distract yourself.

“Marriage is, also, another great aspect of the story-- Juliet is only 13 in the play and even though we can argue and say that historically, she was of age to get married, I still think it is irresponsible to marry so young and so quickly. It brings a bad view of reckless love to young readers that are forced to read the play while growing up.” you continue, hearing Seungmin smirk from the other side of the table.

“‘With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out’, Romeo says, however, to Juliet, all of the freedom she gets from love sparks in the idea of leaving her parents so she can have sex.” you read out, hearing Seungmin finally burst out laughing.

You stop reading, looking up to him with questioning eyes.

“Why are you so dramatic about all of it anyway?” he asks you, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

“What do you mean dramatic? I was supposed to write about my own view of it, so I did just that. You don’t have to laugh at me for it,” you shake your head, kind of feeling pathetic for the way your heart is racing. The thing is, and you know it sounds ridiculous, you actually feel kind of hurt by the sound of his laughter.

“I understand that, but why do you keep bashing the author for writing it like that? It’s like you don’t even believe in love, all you did was criticise all of the ideas he had. And so what if they were young and reckless? They were still in love, you know?” he rambles, making your blood boil again.

“You can’t just ignore all of it because it was in history. I don’t think it’s normal to marry so young and to claim you are in love so quickly, because you know what? If they survived, they would make a child. And then, they would realise how they fucked up their own life and Romeo would run away from her with a snap of his finger, because that’s what young, immature boys do. And then-” you raise your voice, not even realising how heated you got with the argument as you continue to ramble. The vision of your own parents and your own story is slowly eating you all up from the inside, when suddenly, Seungmin cuts you off again with a laugh.

“But you don’t know that. It’s not even in the play and your conspiracies are just… pathetic, really,” he shrugs, taking in your distressed state.

Pathetic conspiracies. Is this what he called your life?

“Leave.” you say, breathing heavy.

“What? We didn’t even-”

“You criticize everything I write, not even recognising that maybe I do have a reason for feeling like this and maybe I really do not want to idolise young, immature love when I know just how much damage it can make, so please, for the love of god, Kim Seungmin, leave me alone!” you yell out, standing up from your chair and pointing to the door.

“Y/N-”

“I said get out!” you scream. His deep eyes stare at you for a few minutes, startled, before he hurriedly takes his things and leaves through the front door.

Once you’re finally alone again, you sigh heavily and put your head into your hands. You feel your eyes burning, trying to desperately blink away the stupid tears filling your saddened orbs, but it’s no use as you see a few teadrops fall onto the opened copy of Romeo and Juliet on the table.

‘It’s easy for someone to joke about scars if they’ve never been cut.’, it says.

Maybe you were fooling yourself when you thought Kim Seungmin will no longer be your enemy after all of this.

10.

You raise up to your feet when Mrs Jung calls on you on Friday. You already know what’s going to happen-- you’d been preparing yourself for this moment for the past two long, miserable days. You hadn’t spoken to Seungmin since that day in the library and frankly, you feel like after all of this, you have nothing to say to him. You feel like all energy has been sucked out of you, like you are just a walking cage without a soul just ready for this whole project to be over.

You scan the faces of your classmates, most of them looking interested by your essay. They must be expecting drama, an outburst of emotions as you listen to Seungmin’s words, but you won’t give them the satisfaction today. You’re just going to do your part-- you’re going to read out what you have to say and that’s where it ends. You’re not wasting your energy on Kim Seungmin anymore. It’s not worth your time at all.

So you start, just like that time in the library. You make all your points, you mention all of the topics you wanted to discuss. You throw it right in front of their faces, silently confessing to them all of your deepest secrets and insecurities, because the truth is, you wouldn’t feel so strongly about the play if it didn’t affect you as much.

And when you’re done, you let your rival speak. You listen to him with curiosity, it doesn’t matter how much you’re trying to convince yourself you don’t actually care. His words flow into your ears and fill your mind with thoughts, every single one of them dedicated to his neat handwriting and his brain full of mysteries he is currently uncovering right in front of you.

“To be honest, Y/N’s words made me think. They made me think too hard. They made me question if my point of view was actually as correct as I thought it was. You see, Y/N is a smart girl. No one can deny that. Perhaps that is what made me doubt my own words so much in the first place,” he starts, looking you directly in the eye, but quickly averting his eyes to the small group of people in the classroom instead, “but still, even though there are some points of her essay that I agree with-- like the age aspect, even though historically, it could be meaningless, as well as the way their marriage comes too fast, there are still things I strongly disagree on.”

He takes a deep breath, shuffling the papers in his hands until he finds the right one, and starts speaking again. “Y/N says their love isn’t as pure as it seems to be. With Romeo abandoning Rosaline and with Juliet desperately wanting to break away from her parents, it may seem that way. However, I think that yet, while the two characters may have initially fell for each other due to a mixture of convenience and lust, Romeo and Juliet’s language shows their passion maturing into real love,” he says, taking a short look at you that makes your insides burn in flames, “In their first meeting, they compose a sonnet together using the religious language of pilgrimage. They both start using astrological language to describe their love. As their relationship develops, they use less rhyme, which has the effect of making their language feel less artificial. These changes in the lovers’ language show that they are growing together. They are growing to care more deeply for each other, they are growing into a feeling of love they have for each other.”

“Another thing I disagree with Y/N on is her image of love. ‘Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn,’ she quotes. Romeo asks his friend, Mercutio, this question when he feels hurt by his love. Yet, as I already mentioned, in my opinion, love is growing. And growing is a journey-- in every journey, there is going to be some pain,” he looks at you again, as if to tell you that his words aren’t meant for the class, but for you and your ears only. It doesn’t look like he’s arguing with you anymore--he is simply telling you what’s on his mind. What he believes in.

“In theory, I think love is beautiful. I understand the pain and I understand the journey. And with me saying I disagree, I’m not saying Y/N’s opinion is wrong. It’s simply what she believes in,” he nods his head, locking his eyes with Mrs Jung, “but perhaps, it’s the romantic in me that believes that the image of love portrayed in this book was, in fact, beautiful.”

He clears his throat, looking at you again, but this time, his eyes don’t drift to the papers in his hand, rather speaking from his memory instead of reading out the things he had written down. “‘The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing, and think it were not night.’ Isn’t that beautiful?” he averts his eyes to the class, smiling to himself and looking to the ground.

Somehow, his words feel heavy on you. Like they hold the weight of the world, like what he said wasn’t just to prove a point to you. Perhaps Kim Seungmin saw through the hurt you feel-- perhaps he tried to understand. Maybe, he even tried to make you feel better.

Somehow, his words feel like a confession. His ending ment of saying ‘thank you for your time’ goes unnoticed in your brain, everything turning blurry as the bell rings just as your presentation ends, your brain, eyes-- your whole being focused on Kim Seungmin and the way his voice recitated the words with such passion in his heart.

“‘And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury,’” the voice of your English literature teacher cuts through your senses like a knife, the smile on her face bringing you back to reality, “Good job, you two.”

11.

A kick in a face wouldn’t hit you harder than seeing Kim Seungmin appear in the library the next day. You aren’t prepared to see him, not when all you’ve been thinking of the last night without being able to fall asleep were his words, his mind and his face. You saw him every time you closed your eyes-- it was like he suddenly imprinted himself into your brain. It was crazy. You felt crazy.

Romeo and Juliet fell in love at first sight. Romeo and Juliet got married the next day.

How much time did it take you to fall in love with Kim Seungmin?

Suddenly, you have no idea. And what makes it all worse is the fact that somehow, it all makes sense in your eyes. Maybe Jisung was right when he told you that giving so much energy into hating the boy would somehow make you end up like the 21st century replica of Anne of the Green Gables and Gilbert Blythe.

“Hello,” he breathes out, the corners of his mouth slightly curving up before he bites the nervous smile down, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Hi,” you shyly greet him, noticing the book in his hands alongside with the library card, taking it from his reached-out hand. You recognise the book way too well, the hard covers a little dusty and the spine damaged from the amount of people that had borrowed this book from the library before.

You take the copy of Romeo and Juliet and place it on the table, registering it back into the database. It feels like a chapter of your life is ending. It seems like forever since you’ve been assigned the project, but in a way, you know that nothing will ever be the same.

You kept thinking of his words in the night. How in his romantic mind, love is beautiful. And it’s a journey that requires pain, in a way.

You kept thinking of how your parents were in love. And then, they were in pain. It was their journey that somehow ended up with you being born, ended up with your father leaving you because he couldn’t bear the responsibility. You kept thinking about how you used to blame your mother, even though all she ever did was raise you and love you. And in a way, you knew Seungmin was right and love was beautiful-- it brought your mum pain, but she was happy while it lasted. And you were the proof of that.

You give him back his library ID, fully expecting him to leave without another word, but he doesn’t. He takes it back from your hold, slipping the card into his back pocket, giving you a meaningful look as he sighs.

“I-”

“Look-”

You both start at the same time, nervously laughing before prompting the other one to speak first. You avert your eyes away from his face, letting him know you won’t be the first one to speak this time, patiently waiting for him to start talking.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like I hate you or anything, because, well, it’s quite the opposite, really,” he chuckles, wiping his hands against his pants, “I never had the guts to hold a proper conversation with you before, because honestly, I was too shy to do that, since you’re like… so smart and everything, but yeah,” he sighs again, shortly looking you in the eyes before finishing his little speech, “I’m just… sorry, I guess?”

You feel your lips tugging into a smile, shaking your head in disbelief before speaking up again. “No, I should be the one saying sorry, because I was the one acting like a bitch… I guess that were just my own insecurities getting in the way.”

His smile mirrors yours in no time, taking your breath away as you curse in your own head. You feel crazy. So, so damn crazy for liking it so much.

“It’s okay. I guess we both had some things that came in the way. If I wasn’t acting so cold, maybe you wouldn’t hate me as much-”

“No, it’s not your fault!” you stop him, reaching out a hand to gesture him that he is talking nonsense.

He nervously shifts his weight from one leg to another, taking a short look at his shoes, gaining all of his courage before speaking up again. “I know this may sound ridiculous, but would you maybe want to… hang out sometime?”

“Hang out?” you repeat, voice a few octaves higher than usual.

“Y-yeah,” he nods, eyes big, “I was actually thinking of asking you out on a date but since you used to hate me until now, I didn’t want to go too fast-”

“It can be a date,” you jump in. The voice in your head is screaming at you now, hell, it is running around your head and hitting the walls in anger and panic. How the hell did you end up in this position? Asking Kim Seungmin out on a date? You really must be ridiculous.

“Okay,” he smiles, urgently nodding.

“Okay.” you grin. You exchange a daring stare into each other’s eyes before he deeply inhales and scratches the back of his neck, turning on his heel and quickly pacing to the door. You almost think he’s going to leave, but he quickly looks back and stops in his tracks, shooting you one last, bright smile.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow!” he cheers, not even letting you respond before he runs out of the door.

As the library falls into dead silence, you take a seat on the chair, sighing deeply and bringing your head into your palms resting on the table, just like many times before when Seungmin left the comfort of the library, but this time, there’s a goofy smile playing with your lips as you think of the last few minutes, chuckling to yourself. This was an outcome you did not expect from the project-- but it’s an outcome you don’t mind at all.

Romeo and Juliet fell in love at first sight. How long did it take you?

It’s fair to say at least two weeks.

Maybe you were foolish and maybe it will hurt, but there’s something tempting at the warm feeling in your chest and the excitement Seungmin’s presence makes you feel, and that feeling alone doesn’t let you give up on this just yet.

Your eyes fall to the opened book of Romeo and Juliet you’d left on your table just before he arrived, meaning to return the copy of the play to the library. You’re met with a sentence that makes you chuckle at the irony, the foolishness washing over you mixed with a feeling of joy you can’t quite comprehend yet, but welcome it with your arms wide open and expecting heart.

‘My only love sprung from my only hate.’

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weasleywinchester · 3 years

Text

Save Yourself - Chapter 13

Don't give in to the feelin’

OOOOKKKKAAAYYY. Now that I've had time to write (starting an etsy to waaayyy more time then I thought LOL) I'm back with the next chapter for this! We're getting into the territory of making myself cry as I write. So if you see tear stains all over the place, don't worry it's just me breaking my own heart.

Warnings: Sad feelings (angst? is that what it's called?), no smut :(

*also gif of Sammy hug is not mine, found via Pinterest with a link to nothing

Series Summary:

“I promise.” Those two words would trap you in a life you never wanted. You are an artist, a hunter, a Winchester. And yet the pain in Dean’s eyes as demanded you live the life he wants you live, you couldn’t say no. You met the Winchesters by chance, found out they were real people. And you figured it was a once in a life time thing, but then Dean called you, and so did a new job. Both leading to the life you wanted, a family that didn’t begin or end in blood and a once in a life time love. And he said leave it and him behind, forget. But you can’t.

Chapter Summary:

Mary is no stranger to changing the course of her life; but being thrown back into the world of the living is, well, a whole new world. New tech, new place, two grown sons and no husband. And then, being a good nosey mom, she finds a wedding picture of you and her son. Who are you? Where are you? And why does Dean not want to talk about you?

It's been four days since... well something. Something life changing. But you're not sure what. All you know is that a man in your dreams is telling you to save yourself. But who is he? Hell, who are you?

Mary sits in content silence, watching “baby” Sammy and “little” Dean search for a case. This isn’t the life she wanted for them; they were supposed to grow up in a normal world, one where they worried about first dates and car payments, not the monsters in the closet.

She pours herself another cup of coffee, her brain flipping from mourning her old life and joy at the second chance she has. She often wanders the halls of the bunker while the boys are out; poking her nose into their stuff like all mothers do.

“Um, we’re going for a beer run. Did you want anything?” Dean asks, his weight shifting from foot to foot. She shakes her head no and watches both of them leave. When the bunker door clicks shut she moseys down the hall to Dean’s room.

She finds comfort in his room the most, it holds a lot of John’s things; things she remembers when they were new. She gently runs her fingers over the old leather jacket, remembering that it was one of the first things he bought when he finished his time with the Marine Corp. Dean always keeps his journal on the desk, the pages well worn from years of reading it over and over. She puts a scrap of paper in the page it’s opened to and gently flips to the page she left off on. And she sits, quietly rereading every word, every line, every little note written in the margins.

A creak from the hallway shakes her from her thoughts. She waits a few breaths before deciding to go back to her own room. Standing to quickly leave a piece of paper on the dresser catches her attention ; well, that’s new.

The writing on the back says

“(Y/N) and Dean

Santa Barbra, CA

March 7th”

Mary flips it over, a photograph of Dean, a smile plastered on his face as he kisses the cheek of a beautiful young woman. Dean, married? What happened…

“Mom! We’re back! Got lots of jerky!” Dean yells from the garage. Mary takes one last look at the picture, sliding it into her pocket and slipping out of Dean’s room.

“Hey, what did you get up to today?” Sam smiles, still unsure if his mom is open to hugs at any given time or if it’s still too soon. The last thing he would want to do is put any pressure on her to be anything other than herself.

“Oh not much, figuring out the cell phone thing still. Watched a few movies that you both had set out.” She smiles as she watches them unpack the groceries.

“Hey, uh, who’s (Y/N)?” She watches Dean’s reaction: his face stoic but panic flashes through his eyes.

“(Y/N)?” Sam’s brain tries to grasp your name, not sure why it feels so familiar.

“Just a girl I dated.” Dean mumbles, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“What happened-“ Mary starts.

“We broke up. End of story.” Dean slams the fridge closed, pops the cap off a beer and stomps to his room.

_______

“Nice choice mom! The Sandlot is a classic.” Sam gently sits on the couch, back straight as a board.

“You can relax.” Mary laughs. She appreciates the boys being so considerate, but she’s used to being around rough and tough men. The tiptoeing does give her a good laugh though.

Sam exhales nervously, settling into the couch. They both sit in silence, occasionally laughing at the movie. But Mary can’t get the image of you and Dean out of her head, no matter how funny the movie is. She takes the picture out of her pocket, her finger gently tracing Dean’s face and then yours.

“Sam, who’s (Y/N)?” She sneaks a glance at him, a sad smile shaping his features.

“Family.” He automatically responds. He went digging through his phone when Dean wasn’t looking and found pictures and texts from you; seemed to help clear the brain fog he’s been in for the last few days.

“What happened to her?”

“She should be in California… Chuck zapped her away… before the Amara stuff. So she would be safe.”

Mary studies the frown on Sam’s face, she imagines it takes quite a bit of power to mess with memories.

“How did you meet?” she asks. Sam smiles, taking a deep breath in.

“A case. The college she went to is a converted mental hospital. After that we’ve crossed paths here and there, every time her and Dean … they just click, like two pieces to the same puzzle.”

Mary nods, handing the picture to Sam.

“She’s home, for both of us. When we're in her world, there’s no vamps, angels, demons; there’s just ... life.” He studies the picture, the smile on your face burned in his memory.

“He fell in love.” She smiles; you must be one amazing young woman to break the walls Dean has built around himself.

“Ya, Dean always feels like he’s putting her in danger. And he has to save her from monsters, the hunting life, even himself.” He sighs, handing the picture back.

“And you don’t agree?” Mary pries. She’s been in Dean’s shoes in a sense; she tried leaving the hunting life behind, a new start for her to have John and the boys with no monsters. But if she had to choose putting John in the hunting world or be without him, she’s not sure if she could be that unselfish.

“(Y/N) knew from the beginning what this life entailed. She never complained, never tried to get us out. She’s signed dotted lines of every hospital release form there is… she’s killed vamps, researched all night ... She didn’t try to talk him out of saving the world from Amara; she let him go, because she knows that’s what we do, save the world.” Sam takes a deep breath, fiddling with the label on his beer.

“Sounds like she was born to be a Winchester.” Mary smiles.

“She will always be a Winchester.”

“So why hasn’t she come back?” Mary turns toward her son. Surely you and Dean were inseparable if that wedding picture was anything to go by.

“To be honest I don’t even know why I haven’t gone to get her… until you said her name, I had forgotten her.”

Mary nods, sinking back into the couch, a plan coming together in her head.

_______

Salt in the air, the breeze whipping sand in your face, and the loud roar of the ocean. It’s the only thing you’ve felt the last four days. Well, that and the burn of whiskey down your throat. That’s all you are now, empty space and whiskey. The sun no longer feels warm as it rises in the morning, and the sunset no longer brings the promise of sleep.

You’ve been in this beach house for four days, and every night it’s a different dream of the same man. Even when your eyes are open you have strange visions, like memories dancing across the sand. And some fill you with joy but when they’re done playing, it leaves you with this pit in your stomach.

Oh darlin’, save yourself for someone else.

It’s all he says at the end of each dream. That one line echoes in the emptiness of your skull.

Oh won't you save yourself for someone else.

Who could you possibly save yourself for besides him? The way he looks at you, how he makes your heart race with a single wink.

“Mind if I join you?”

You turn to see a woman standing behind you. She’s got short wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Her smile is kind, so you nod. She plants her butt in the sand, bringing a knee to her chest.

“Are you (Y/N) Winchester?” She asks, leaning forward to catch your eye.

“Yes.” You blink at her a few times. Winchester. Last names… those are a thing. The woman smiles; she feels so familiar, like a long lost relative.

She can see the gears in your head sluggishly turning. You stink of alcohol and sunscreen, eyes are puffy, and you look a little dead despite sitting in the sun.

“And you are?” You frown, trying not to see double.

“Mary.” She half smiles and you reciprocate the gesture.

“My husband's… mom's name is Mary?” You hiccup. Husband. That’s right… married. You look down at your left hand, only a faint tan line of where a ring used to sit.

“Really?” She laughs, if you only knew.

You nod vigorously laying down on your towel.

“And what happened with your husband?” She lays beside you.

You feel the answer right in the center of your chest, you’re heart breaking in two.

“He died.” You whisper to the sky, tears springing into your eyes. He died. And you can’t even remember his name; but you’re left with the memories, the ghost of his touch on your skin, his laugh in your ears.

Mary frowns. How could Sam’s memories be so easily remembered but not yours?

“I’ve heard some of the stories from other hunters. Seems like he’s the best.” Mary prods, hoping to bring back a few more memories and get you out of this pointless pain you’re in.

“He’s only half the operation. Sam is definitely the brains.” You whisper. How did you know that? You bolt upright and look at Mary. Hunting! Saving People, hunting things, the family business… the Supernatural books! Sam and Dean Winchester… brothers who save the world; who saved you.

“You’re a hunter too?” You ask. Mary sits up to meet your gaze; she wants you to remember, to help make her son happy. But when Winchesters have plans, you’re in for a world of regret for messing with them. She takes in a deep breath and plunges in; worst they could do is kill her, and she’s already done that once.

“Yes. I’ve been out of the game for a long time; recently connected with family, who are hunters, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around a few things.”

“I get that.” You turn to the ocean, watching the waves push and pull along the shore, the turbulence of emotion inside you matching its pace. As each wave pounds into the shore and gently reveals the sand, your mind feels clearer, like your head is finally on straight.

“He saved the world.” You whisper, tears streaming down your face. He sacrificed himself, he did it for you, for Sammy… that’s right, you called him Sammy.

Mary wants to wrap her arms around you, to tell you he’s alive. But the nagging feeling of ‘mother’s should let their kids handle their lives’ keeps prodding her head; she wanted to see you, talk with you, figure out what her son wanted to protect. And if you happened to remember every detail, then the safest place is with her boys.

“Have you talked to Sam?” Mary whispers, gently placing her hand on yours.

“I… I didn’t know I could.”

“You can find him. Talk to him.” Mary suggests. She knows Sam would be able to explain it all, to help you through the fog and maybe convince Dean to not push you out of his life.

“Find him?” You ask. The last few days you’ve been… Well, everything was a little fuzzy before today; but every time you say Dean’s name, another memory comes back clear as a picture. And every time your heart breaks a little more because you’re here alone, and he’s dead.

_______

Loud. Everything is so loud. And your mouth is a desert. You crack your eyes open and see the outline of a water bottle. You sit up enough to drink without choking, you look around to see you’re still in the same house as yesterday.

Small clinking sounds float down the hall and you frown. Who could be here? You throw your legs over the edge of the bed, planting your feet firmly on the floor, and gently push yourself to stand. When you don’t immediately fall over you pad down the hall and see a woman taking plates out of the cupboard.

“Good morning.” She smiles, keeping her voice low.

You frown.

“Mary?” She smiles, trying to hide her laugh. You’re an absolute mess; hair full of salt, sand and whiskey, your shoulders and cheeks are pink from the sun. She could not convince you to change last night so you’re still in your swimsuit.

“Right. You said people pointed you my way. Did you need help with something?” It's way too early for anything hunting related.

“I just wanted to know more about the Winchester’s. About you and Dean.” She says into her coffee mug. And your conversation from yesterday floods back, your brain short circuiting from the information again.

“Did you know him?” You clear your throat, taking a swig from one of the cartons of orange juice.

“A long time ago. His dad too.” She purses her lips, her sad smile matching yours.

“If I didn’t know better I would say you’re his mom.” You laugh, picking at the corners of the carton. Mary doesn’t answer, so you look up at her. Her face is calm but her eyes are panicking. Why is she nervous? Also, need to call my own mother...

“What makes you think I’m not her?”

You snort at her question. “If Mary could come back, or be brought back, it would have happened a long time ago. And would have solved many problems among the Winchester men.” You remember seeing a picture of Dean and Mary a thousand times; Dean keeps it on the nightstand next to your wedding picture. You look back at her face, the picture in your mind now is as clear as day.

“You asked if I knew he was dead.” You whisper. What if…

“I…” Mary’s scrambling to find something, anything, to tell you. But her mind is blank, she understands why he doesn’t want you hunting and why he can’t leave; she just wanted to know her boys better, and part of that was you. But with someone tampering with your head, she couldn’t leave you like that, but the look in your eye is dangerous and worlds are about to collide in a fiery mess.

“Clean up and meet me in the car.” You run back to the bedroom, digging out some clean clothes and heading into the shower.

_______

“(Y/N), Dean has reasons to keep you out of hunting…”

Mary’s already tried to have this conversation three times but you never answer. The first time you called your mom, who was extremely relieved that you called her before your week “off the grid” was over. Apparently your friend Castiel needed the boys for a secret FBI thing and you had to be kept safe. Second time you pulled over to get gas and flat out ignored her. And the third time you simply rolled down the windows and blasted Carry On My Wayward Son as loud as it would go.

“How do you know where they are?” She finally snaps. You stop fiddling with the radio when you realize you don’t. You pull into the next parking lot and dial every number you have for Dean, Sam and Cas. Nothing.

Fine, the supernatural way it is.

“Dear Angel Castiel, hear my prayer louder than ANYONE ELSES and get your ASS—“

“Hello (Y/N).” Cas sighs.

You look up in the rearview and whip around to look at him.

“Bunker now.” You demand.

_______

“What was that?” Mary asks, her eyes scanning the familiar scenery of the bunker garage.

“I have to go, but this should help.” Cas mumbles, touching his finger to your temple. And like the curtain on opening night, the brain fog is gone. You remember it all, every hunt, every long night, every kiss.

You look at Cas, who gives you a small smile; the woman staring back at him is once again the one he’ll remember long after she’s in heaven.

“I couldn’t do what he asked. Not completely. We need you.” Cas gives you a kiss on the forehead and disappears. They need me? Does that...

“Well, I guess I’ll be in the dog house with my sons.” She shrugs, getting out of the car and walking into the Bunker. Sons… plural, Sammy and...

“Mom? Back already?” Sam calls out from the library.

“Yep. And I found someone along the way.” She says, sitting next to Sam.

“Who could you find out on a hunt?” Dean shouts from the kitchen.

Dean...

You can hear the sound of sizzling, the smell of bacon hitting your nose. He’s cooking, it almost feels like you’ve just been on a work trip and he’s about to bring out a home cooked five course meal. You walk around the corner as Mary gestures to the doorway. Sam turns around and nearly tips out of his chair, scrambling down the stairs and scoops you into the biggest hug, twirling you off the ground.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry-“

“Don’t Sammy. It’s not your fault.” You squeeze him a little tighter, hoping you could just stay in this hug forever.

“So who did you find?” Dean asks again, frowning at Sam’s turned back.

Sam unwraps himself from you, giving you a silent look to make sure you’re ready. And despite how your ragged heart is pounding, you nod. He steps aside, bracing for Dean’s wrath.

Dean freezes, his beer crashing to the floor. You can’t be here. Cas wiped your memory. He promised on the last day that you would be safe.

Sam and Mary look back and forth between you two, waiting for someone to do something. Sam gently pushes Dean’s shoulder and he catapults to you, his mouth immediately finding yours.

Your legs instantly turn to jelly, your arms wrapping around his neck and he presses your body into his. He moves his mouth away, his eyes searching for answers in yours.

“How?” He whispers.

“Isn’t that supposed to be my question?”

_______

Your head hasn’t stopped spinning since Cas put it back together. It’s not that you don’t understand why Dean asked, it’s that it felt like the only solution he would pick.

You move from your easel, which still holds a half done painting that you’ve been staring at all evening, and wrap your arms around Dean. He and Sam are trying to find Lucifer, but so far they’ve got nothing.

“Can I take Baby out?” You ask. You hear Sam’s typing slow down, but you keep your eyes trained on Deans screen.

“Everything ok?” He whispers, turning his head toward you.

“Ya, just need to think.” You squeeze him.

He nods, handing you his keys. He watches as you gather your things. You look fine, you’ve been a little on the quiet side, which happens every now and then. The fact you’ve kept your hands to yourself is a bit odd; you both are normally glued to each other after any amount of time apart. He watches you reach for his flannel that’s on the arm of the couch, stopping short, deciding against it and quickly walking out the door.

“You two ok?” Sam asks after a moment.

“I thought so.” Dean sighs. Maybe he’s finally done it, he’s pushed you hard enough that you might be done. He turns back to his laptop, perusing various articles that could point to a lucifer sighting.

Sam stares at the door, waiting to see if you’ll come back for Dean’s shirt. Or come back in and ask them What the hell are you two waiting for? Get in the damn car! But you don’t. And the dread from the day you disappeared is back.

“Why did you ask Cas to erase her?” Sam fiddles with corners of the book he had been trying to read.

“She needed to be safe.” Dean automatically answers.

“She’s more safe here then out there.” Sam mumbles.

“I wanted-“

“That’s the problem Dean! What you wanted? What about what the rest of us wanted?” Sam slams his fist into the table, earning a glare from his brother. “I love her too. She’s my sister, the last bit of family I would have left if you had died.”

“And you want to leave her in the living nightmare we call our lives? If I don’t watch both your asses every day you’d both be dead!” Dean shouts, leaning across the table.

“You’re the one who’s worried about leaving me alone! If you quit pushin’ (Y/N) away neither of us would have to worry about leaving the other alone!” Sam stands, leaning nose to nose with his brother.

“And what about when we leave her Sam? What about when a monster finally gets us and she’s left alone?” Dean swallows hard, it’s a situation he wants to ignore, but no matter how good everything is, it’s one that always creeps back into his mind.

“What?” Sam gasps.

“What happens to her when we die? Who will protect her?”

“Cas. Garth. Jodi. Any of her friends from back home.” Sam replies. Is that seriously what Dean is worried about?

“And all that pain she’ll feel when we die? Sam, it took her months to stop crying about her dog!”

“She loved that dog more than both of us put together.” Sam jokes, but neither of them laugh.

“I had a chance to make sure she wouldn’t suffer and I took it. Shame on you that you would rather let her shatter into a thousand pieces.” Dean stomps to the couch, ripping his flannel off the armrest.

“She’s not like Dad.” Sam whispers to Dean’s back.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“She wouldn’t stay broken. Her friends, her family, would put her back together. She has people who have lost their husbands and have found the strength to live on. They would help her do the same if it ever came to it.” He gently places a hand on his brother's shoulder.

“I love her so much Sammy.” He whispers back.

“I know, but even Chuck said he could have never planned a love like you two have. But it doesn’t mean you don’t have to fight to keep it.”

_______

You didn’t have a destination in mind when you hit the road. You just needed to sort your head out. The clashing of memories much like the rain on the windshield, steadily beating on your brain and rolling right off.

A life without Dean. Your Dean, not the one who lived in the pages of a book. No ghosts, vampires, long road trips, passionate kisses or the wedding of your dreams. It would only live in your imagination and nothing more. Would you be ok with that? Ok with letting all that go just to not feel the pain of losing him?

A knock on the window scares the shit out of you. You shine your flashlight to see “Mary?”

She smiles, waving. You lean over and unlock the passenger side and she quickly slides in.

“What are you doing here?” She asks.

“What are you doing in Kansas?” you retort.

“I had to come see it.” She gestures to the house. You frown, why would she want to see a house?

“It’s our house.” She sighs.

“The one you died in?” You blurt.

“Yep. It was our dream house. Perfect for our little family of four.” You both sit in silence, the patter of rain mixing with your quiet breaths.

“If you had the choice to start over with no memories, right at this moment, would you?” You ask.

“Would you?”

You inhale and realize you don’t know the answer anymore.

Tag list:

@deansqtpie

@supraveng

@winchestersgirl222

@fantasy-myth1

@laycblack

@urgirlarrielle

@akshi8278

@arctusluna

@malindacath

@lyarr24

@flamencodiva

#weasleywinchester #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x hunter reader #dean winchester fic #save yourself #sam winchester x reader #mary Winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #why do I break my own heart #it only gets sadder #sorry future me #sorry future reader

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gay-otlc · 3 years

Text

Keepers Of The Chaos (3)

Summary: Tam, Linh, Dex, Keefe, Biana, and Fitz are part of the tiny fandom for Keeper of the Chaos, and Tam and Linh’s podcast convinces some of their other friends to watch it as well. The group finds themselves strangely invested in this show, where students at Tumblr High School who work together to write about an elf named Sophia, cause incomprehensible chaos, and fight their rival Pinterest High School.

Content warnings: Cursing, religion (Jewish Vackers), and Amsterdam (just in case, I know that was stressful for some people).

Word count: 1621

Notes: Most of the episodes are just events stolen from Lynn's roundup, Dex's memes are here

(Read on AO3)

The life of an amateur meme maker on dumbles dot com was a strange one, that was for sure. After finishing xyr favorite show- Ze-Ra: Monaerchs of Powhir- for the third time, Dex had searched for another show to fill the void in xyr soul. Biana recommended this show called "Keepers of the Chaos" and described it to xem. Xe was doubtful at first, but after watching the first episode, xe was hooked.

Xe used to not have many friends at xyr school, so xe did what every neurodivergent queer teen would do- made an account on dumbles dot com. People seemed to like xem- or at least, they liked dizznee-plus's memes and edits of Ze-Ra characters. Even after Dex befriended xyr squish, Fitz, thons sister, Biana, and aer girlfriend, Sophie, xe continued making content on dumbles. Around that time, the Ze-Ra fandom started dying off, and xyr memes started getting fewer note

In a sudden, two am burst of inspiration, Dex made edits of some of xyr favorite characters, like Ref, Akki, and Rose, with their respective pride flags (all of them bi) over them, and captioned it "we must be gay." The post blew up, or at least, what could be considered blowing up in Keeper of the Chaos's tiny fandom, and that was how Dex found xyr calling as an amateur meme/edit maker for KOTC.

History had been repeating itself, with the KOTC fandom starting to die off, until it was revived by an announcement from creator Saturn Nolastname- a season two would be released soon. Frantically, Dex made a meme about season one episode two, with the car salesman meme. Xe edited "chaos keepers" onto the car salesman, "the rarelynoticed" on the car, and "this bad boy can fit so many stripper outfits into it."

That had been... an interesting episode, to say the least. The chaos keepers had been talking about the antagonists of "Sophie and the Dark Duck"- a rebel group called the Rarelynoticed. In the information packet they'd been given, it was confirmed that the Rarelynoticed wore black cloaks and armbands, but no other clothes had been mentioned. Somehow, the chaos keepers came to the conclusion that the Rarelynoticed really wore neon pink leotards and green stripper heels, then drew this idea.

Needless to say, the Tumblr staff did not let them write that into the book. Nor did Lynn, the unofficially chosen leader of the group. Unfortunately for her, this didn't stop the chaos keepers from drawing more of these- or the fandom from making a ton of memes. In addition to the car salesman meme, a post with Drake saying no to "wearing normal fucking villain outfits" and yes to "leotards and stripper heels" gained popularity within the small fandom.

Though nothing could match the absolute shock of seeing the Rarelynoticed stripper outfit for the first time, Dex decided to rewatch the episode anyway- it was funny to see the chaos keepers freak out, and maybe xe could get some good screen captures. The good Saturn Nolastname indulged xem, and xe captured an excellent scene of most of the chaos keepers either laughing or screaming at the Rarelynoticed stripper outfits, with Kimber- one of xyr favorites- sitting on the side, explaining to Juno and Kaitee why Bianca Cracker was bisexual.

Xe went over to dumbles, posted the picture, added an image description, and captioned it "Live photo of me not caring when my friends talk about sex/romance." Xe chuckled to xemself- this really was how it felt to be aroace. Xe tagged it as aromantic and asexual as well, since dumbles added flag colors. Smiling, xe went to go check xyr notifications.

Xyr jaw dropped when xe saw that @lordofthesnuggles- Fitzroy (Dex didn't know thons middle name) Vacker thonself had liked and reblogged all three of xyr memes, even adding compliments in the tags! Xe'd had a bit of a platonic crush on Fitz for... a really long time, but xe always felt too awkward to talk to thon, so it was nice to see that thon appreciated xyr humor.

Feeling energized- and excited to procrastinate on xyr math homework- Dex went to watch the next episode: Dark Duck Is Jewish Now. Being Jewish xemself, this was a really funny episode to xem.

Lynn had been writing a sort of spinoff- it would be called fanfiction, but it was for her own story- about some of the Dark Duck characters celebrating Christmas, and added a throwaway line about Bianca and Finn Cracker celebrating Hanukkah. Then, her fiance, Shai, had taken that idea and run with it, writing a list of ideas about what would happen if the Cracker family was Jewish. Hir friend Sam had jumped on the idea, and soon they had abandoned writing the actual Dark Duck in favor of writing a story about Jewish Dark Duck characters. Some of the other Jewish chaos keepers, like Ref and Cat, helped out.

To be honest, it kind of surprised Dex that no one had made a joke about the Jewish Crackers just being matzah, so xe supposed xe would have to be the first.

Xe posted that observation, quickly getting a like from Fitz- which made xem smile. After a few minutes, Dex posted another meme: Shai and Sam standing in front of a door with a sign that read "elves don't have religion," and them saying "This sign won't stop me, because I can't read!"

It was accurate.

While that episode was great for Jewish representation, and funny, the Banana Noir episode was just plain weird.

It focused less on the Dark Duck than most of the other episodes, and was more about the crazy interactions of the chaos keepers. The episode was named for Banana Noir, who was really Cat Noir, but in a banana suit. Banana Noir was the son of Mellie, who looked like a shark, and Nora, who had platonically married faer. The mothers tried to arrange a marriage between him and Akki, who loved the side characters of the Dark Duck series. However, Akki wanted to marry Amelia. After a lot of shit that basically no one understood, Banana Noir's attempts were thwarted, and Lynn officiated the wedding between Akki and Amelia.

Yeah, Dex had no idea what the fuck was going on either. Xe'd watched an episode of Twins of the Chaos and a youtube video by arsonpog analyzing the Banana Noir chronicles, as it had been dubbed by the chaos keepers, and both expert opinions seemed to agree that Saturn Nolastname and the rest of the writers had probably been on crack when they made that episode.

The next episode made slightly more sense, though it was a low bar. After taking a break from the "official" Dark Duck story, the chaos keepers began collectively writing a Cinderella story about the characters Sophia and Bianca. People weren't allowed to be queer in the official story, but the chaos keepers still wanted to have fun with their obviously gay characters.

Even to the viewers of the show, who only received secondhand information about the Dark Duck characters, knew there was no way any of them, let alone all of them, were allocishet. The exact identities weren't entirely clear- when Dex had made edits of the characters' official art and xyr headcanons for their pride flags, a few people had disagreed- but both the chaos keepers and the fandom knew that despite what Shannon said, Sophia and Bianca were in love, and their Cinderella story should have made it in to the official Dark Duck story.

While excerpts of the Cinderella story were quoted in the show, most of it was left unclear, so Biana had taken it upon aerself to write aer own version of it. Dex was expecting an update later that day, actually, or maybe the next. Ae wasn't always 100% reliable with aer update schedule. Still, Dex looked forward to when it eventually did come.

After the brief calmness from the Sophianca Cinderella episode, season one episode six, Amsterdam, exploded back into chaos. A few of the chaos keepers decided to discuss a fake scene in the book in which crazy shit went down, with the scene supposedly being located in Amsterdam. It had never been written and was never going to be, but everyone discussed it like it was real. Some of the highlights involved all the Dark Duck girls having swords (and the chaos keepers being gay for them), and a speedboat chase scene through the canals. Fitz had a popular theory that the chaos keepers would actually travel to Amsterdam in order to commemorate this crazy part of their lives. Almost as popular as that was a meme Dex made, with a man labeled "chaos keepers discussing amsterdam" and gesturing feverishly to a wall covered in papers and red string.

Of course, episode seven (Dark Duck Disney) was chaotic too. Everything was chaotic with this group, it was in the title. Shannon announced that the winning Dark Duck story would be adapted into a Disney movie. After past experience with terrible book to movie adaptations, the chaos keepers panicked. They panicked so much that it became major news within their school, which until then, had been largely ignoring the chaos keepers. Once the discussion about the movie settled down, they talked a lot about how in awe they were that their Dark Duck shenanigans were trending within the school.

But of course, none of that compared to the last episode of the season...

Dex changed xyr profile picture to include an ominous pair of teal eyes and sighed.

#tumblr kotlc fandom fandom #keepers of the chaos #shai types things #shai's writing #hehe like the ze-ra reference

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 3 years

Text

Sweet Pea//my greatest adventure is you

Request: Can you do a dad (newborn-ish) sweet pea imagine

hey! title is kind of stolen from a quote i saw on pinterest and part from my own brain so its okay! how are you all? i hope you’re good! i also hope you like this! its cute and sweet and just very nice! byeeee

Two weeks ago your life changed completely.

And for two weeks you and Sweet Pea have been living in a post baby, sleep deprived, bliss.

Days of the week have long been forgotten, neither of you know the time. It’s either light or dark and that’s good enough for you. Both of you have only been outside a handful of times and they’re only for two hours at the most.

You’ve worn nothing but pyjama’s, washed your hair enough times to count on just one hand and smell like baby puke and milk.

But it’s perfect.

Everything and everyone revolves around the perfect bundle of joy that you’ve brought into the world, and that is how it was supposed to be. You’ve had visitors from just about everybody you know.

Family, friends, neighbours, as well as their family and friend. You’ve had everyone wanting to come and see your daughter, all of which bring toys, clothes, keepsakes, balloons, flowers and everything in-between.

Which is of course lovely and very helpful. Especially when you’re dealing with the fullest nappy and think you’ve run out of wipes but Sweet Pea finds three packs of them under a pile of clothes that are yet to be worn.

Plus, they also bring you presents to which you definitely aren’t complaining about. You’ve got so many pairs of pajama’s you’re not gonna need any for years.

But it also brings problems.

Because you and Sweet Pea may have read every baby/parenting book, blog and magazine known to man. But what they don’t prepare you for is how you’re supposed to fit everything into a tiny two bedroom house.

“How does a tiny baby need all of this equipment?” You ask, staring at the black hole of boxes that is your living room. Even sat on the couch there’s boxes and bags stacked around you and the two of you honestly have no idea where to start. “I mean, what the hell even is this?” You add, picking up some sort of weird looking piece of plastic.

Sweet Pea looks at it, a frown on his face before it lights up and he searches through some papers on the small table beside him. He holds a booklet up, a triumphant smile stretching across his lips before he starts reading.

The smile slowly starts to fade the more he reads to himself and you sit in silence, an eyebrow raised while you wait for him to tell you.

“Oo, erm. Apparently it tells you why the baby is crying.” He says, looking between you and the what you now realize is the instructions.

The only way you can describe his expression is puzzled, as he takes the baby crying machine from you, placing it beside the instructions and just staring at the two.

“Who the hell bought this?” He asks, resting his chin in his hands. You run your fingers through his hair, trying to calm the curls down a little and he lets out a content sigh, giving you a tired smile as he does so.

You mirror it and nudge his leg with your own. You lean your head on his shoulder, and he places his head on top. The two of you look over the paper and plastic again, reading and re-reading the instructions as it takes a while to actually understand what they are trying to say. Its seems both you and Sweet Pea have ended up developing baby-brain.

“I think it was your Auntie Agnes.”

“Of course it was.” He chuckles and kisses the top of your head.

“What are the options?” You ask.

“Hungry, tired, changing, attention, stressed.” He says and you send him a look.

“Stressed? What an earth could a baby be stressed about? They don’t pay taxes, they don’t have to work.” You reply grumpily making him laugh and kiss you again.

“Technically we don’t have to pay taxes.”

“Technically we do if we don’t want to go to jail.” You reply.

“Who says I’d get caught.” He replies proudly.

“Me.” You reply bluntly and he stares at you offended.

“Rude.”

“True though.” You tease and grab the strange device from him, looking it over a few times before looking back at him. “So, where’s this going?”

“Back of the cupboard normally. Proudly on display when Auntie Agnes actually comes to visit?”

“Deal.” You agree. “I’ll find a place for it and you start on that box there.”

“Which one?”

“The huge red one right in front of your face.” You huff and he flips you off.

You send him a sarcastic smile in return before disappearing into the kitchen to find a space for the stupid bit of plastic.

“Why this one specifically?” He calls after you.

“Its from Toni and Cheryl and I’m excited to see what ridiculous things Cheryl has spent a fuck-ton of money on.” You reply, your voice giddy but muffled by the cupboard you’ve currently got your head in.

Sweet Pea shakes his head, a small giggle escaping his lips as he listens to you excitedly ramble about what it could be.

He pulls on the end of the bow and it falls off the wooden box and onto the carpeted floor. A bemused smile takes over his appearance as he carefully picks the lid up and places it beside him.

“Holy shit.” His eyes widen. “Y/n? Y/n get in here!”

“Wha-ow! Shit.”

“Did you hit your head?” He asks, sending you a sympathetic smile when he notices you standing in the doorway, rubbing your head.

“Yeah.” You nod and flop down beside him again. “So, what is it?” You ask excitedly.

“You’re not going to believe it.” He replies and moves further towards the box. You follow him until your sat on the edge of the sofa and your eyes widen when you look at what it is.

“Is that?” You ask, looking at him and then back at the present.

“Yep.”

Staring back at the two of you is a giant rocking horse. Like it’s massive, like Toni could definitely fit on it and it would look normal, massive even. Hanging around its neck is what looks like a diamond encrusted dummy and you and Sweet Pea just stare at each other in disbelief.

A red, handwritten card sits on top of it and you grab it, turning it around and reading aloud.

‘Y/n and Sweet Pea,

Congratulations on your new arrival! We can’t wait to meet her properly. You’re going to be amazing parents, and we’re always here if you need us. Hopefully we’ll be able to organize a play date between her and JJ soon, but until then enjoy new parenthood.

Love Cheryl, Toni and JJ.

ps: I told Cheryl you didn’t need a giant horse or diamond encrusted dummy or the other 5, very expensive gifts that are currently being shipped from Italy, but she didn’t listen, so sorry in advance. And again, congratulations!! We’re so proud of both of you!!’

“Another 5 gifts from Italy?” Sweet Pea repeats.

“Another 5, expensive gifts from Italy.” You correct.

“They have far too much money for their own good.”

“God knows where this is going to go.” You shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips as you tuck the card back into the box and place the lid back on top. “Which one should we do ne-” Your interrupted by a small cry and the two of you stop what you’re doing to listen, waiting to see if she’ll settle back down. The crying only grows louder and you and Pea share a look.

“I’ll get her.” He says and you expression softens.

“You sure?” You ask.

“Yeah.” He replies, fighting his way through the boxes and bags trapping the two of you. “I just googled how much that rocking horse is so I’m gonna go cry with her.” He says making you laugh. “You keep going down here.”

“Wait, how did that happen? You get to cuddle a cute baby and I have to figure out where to put bottles and diapers and...horses?”

“Unlucky.” He shrugs and gives you a sarcastic smile before running up the stairs.

Two minutes later and she’s stopped crying. A relieved smile takes over your face as you fold what seems like the millionth baby grow. But twenty minutes after that, Sweet Pea hasn’t come back down yet, and that makes you suspicious.

Because he’s either fallen asleep, or he’s just pretending to still be busy so he doesn’t have to help with this. If he’s asleep, you’re joining him, whether he’s on the bed or under it, you don’t care. But if not, you bet his ass you are dragging him back down the stairs.

You slowly make your way up the stairs, balancing a few pieces of clothing in your hands to put away. The door to your bedroom is cracked open slightly and instead of going straight into the nursery, you hold back and watch as Sweet Pea rocks her gently.

His back is to you so he hasn’t noticed your presence, and he’s pulling the funniest faces at her, the sight making your heart melt. Your entire universe in one room, within two people, one tall and the other tiny.

It makes all the chaos worth it.

“There once was a shoe, who’s best friend was a lace.” Sweet Pea starts, balancing a baby book in his hands as he keeps tight hold of your daughter. “They went everywhere together. But one day, the shoe stepped in a puddle and the lace got dirty so-what kind of story is this?” He complains, shaking his head as he puts it down.

“Okay, Daisy. I’ve got a much better story to tell you anyway.” He whispers into the dark room and carefully sits down in the rocking chair. “So, me and your mom have known each other for so long. Longer than you can even comprehend, not that you can comprehend much at the minute. But one day when your bigger you’ll understand. We’ve known each other since we were younger than you, thats right, we were best friends before we were born. And there hasn’t been a day that she hasn’t been around. And they’ll never be a day where she isn’t here for you either. Both of us are always going to be here.” He says, his voice gentle.

His tone is full of so much love that it makes you tear up...stupid hormones. You can’t wait to spend the rest of your life loving your little family, and you’re so happy that its Sweet Pea that you’re doing it with. You can’t imagine a life without him, you never want to.

“You have your entire life ahead of you and we’re going to make sure you live the best one you can. Because you can do anything. There’s a whole world of possibilities out there. Sometimes it feels like there isn’t, but you’ve only been here two weeks and you’ve brought so much wonder and magic to mine and your mom’s world, so who knows what you’re going to do to the rest of it.” He continues and you hug the clothes your holding tighter to your chest, despite the fact that you’re crying all over them.

“We’re going to love you no matter what. No matter who you are or who you love or what you do. As long as you’re safe and happy, thats good enough for us.” He says, a sweet smile on his lips as he stares down at her in awe. “Now, go to sleep and have the sweetest dreams you can think of and when you wake up, your mom and me will both be here for you. Thats a promise.” He whispers, pressing a soft kiss to her head before placing her gently back in her crib.

You take that as you cue to walk in, avoiding the creaky floorboard that you and Sweet Pea have already memorized the position of. He hears the door open and his smile grows when he notices you. You return it, your eyes tired and your hair messy and your clothes the same as they were two days ago. But to him you look the most beautiful you ever have.

He has never loved anyone more, well, apart from Daisy. But you’re the reason she’s here and he’s never ever going to be able to thank you enough for that.

You quietly place the pile of clothes on top of the drawers, vowing to put them away tomorrow. Them, the presents downstairs and the the rest of the world can wait, you want to enjoy this for as long as you can.

Sweet Pea grabs your hand and pulls you gently towards him. The two of you lean over the crib, watching Daisy sleep peacefully. His hands rest gently on your shoulders and you give them a squeeze, your fingers intertwining.

“Do you think babies can dream?” You wonder, looking up at Pea.

“I really do hope so.”

#sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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a-forgotten-spirit · 4 years

Text

Wear It More (Dabi x reader 18+)

Credit for photo is Casentine. I was unable to find the link to the owner even with searching the photo on google. It only came up with pinterest and a tweeter that has been deleted. If this is yours feel free to message me. ________________________________________________________________

Pairing: Dabi x Reader (18+)

Summary: Missing Dabi turns into Anger sex which turns into possessive sex.

Words: +-4100

Warnings: SFW: Burning people, angry at Dabi, the league, wearing Dabi’s clothing, loneliness, sad, arguments, swearing, Dabi not listening, screaming, kissing, possessive, Dabi is so in love with you it’s obsessive, mention of murder, blood, NSFW: Slight size difference, choking, being called baby/Princess, instructions, groping, whimpering, touching, fingering, dirty talk, moaning, ripping off clothing, rules, orders, pinned down, oral (receiving), punishment (the good kind), manipulation, gripping sheets, eyes rolling, tears of pleasure, begging, ruined orgasm, legs shaking, apologizing, being ‘owned’, hair pulling, intercourse (bonding), genital piercings, watching, rough (?), cremepie, orgasms.

A/N: HAPPY KINKTOBER! I will not be updating every day but I will be trying to do as much as possible. Again I say this is a hobby and I have school. However I do have a soft spot for the burnt boi. I am doing commissions, but I am also taking suggestions for future Kinktober updates.

Masterlist _______________________________________________________________

Waking up to an empty bed wasn’t uncommon, the fire user always had some mission to take care of, some person who wound up burnt to a crisp on the news, some new issue with the league. It was normal though I wished it wasn’t my normal. I had tried to make Dabi leave the league he always said we’d talk about it another time and then kissed me until I forgot about it. I sighed rolling around in the fluffy sheets, sitting up I put my legs over the bed feeling the chill in the air I made my way to the bathroom to do my daily routine without Dabi. Seeing his toothbrush bugged me, seeing his skin products made me want to throw them out a window. I walked out into the room with a growl, I loved him with all my heart and soul but it bothered me he cared more about the league than our time together, sure that was his ‘job’ but they didn’t care for Stain they just wanted the numbers. About to leave the room I saw a piece of fabric on the chair by the desk, walking over in anger that he couldn’t even just put it in the laundry I picked it up, a fluffy new jumper. Worn maybe once, bringing it to my face I breathed in his scent, I loved him more than life itself, his scent was like heaven, like a woodfire. Within seconds I was throwing my shirt off into the basket and pulling it on, Dabi was bigger than I, his height a major factor. Once the jumper was on I smiled and moved to put on some socks from the drawer, plain old shin-high black ones, just to keep me warm. A little counterproductive that I was only wearing underwear but after some food and a blanket I’d be fine.

Walking out to the kitchen I began to make food and without realising make some for Dabi as well, when plating I realised I had indeed made enough for another portion of the noddles with vegetables and chicken and his favourite sauce. I missed him, I was angry because I missed him. I put his portion in the fridge, we had at least moved to an apartment, it may be run by villains but it was home. I sat down and began to eat, alone. The food was good, more than good though that didn’t stop me from looking at the empty seat as I ate, washing the dishes after I had eaten I just wanted to go lay down and wallow for a bit. Walking back into the room I grabbed my phone from where it was placed and looked, no new messages, no surprise there. I was going to give this boy a piece of my mind when he got home. Moving back into the now cold sheets I wiggled until it was just my head out of the blankets, and played on my phone until I heard the door open a few hours later.

Looking up I sat up from my warm place on the bed “Y/N I’m home” I heard the call out as he did every time he came home, his tone was off from the happy one he usually had but I didn’t respond only locking my phone and getting up from the bed to walk and stand in the doorway to our room. I crossed my arm staring at him. “Y/N are you home” he called out his back to me as he took off his jacket and shoes.

“I am” I gritted out and his head turned to look at me and I stomped over to him “I am over you just leaving at the crack of dawn without a note, time or even just fucking message. Dabi I am sick of you just leaving with no notice, you spend all of your time with” I paused as he just stared at me, waving my hand in his face I huffed “Are you even listening” I asked and his eyes never left their wide look “Dabi” I called and threw my arms out in anger.

“Is that my jumper” I looked down and then back up at his as he looked me over. Of all, I just said he only noticed I had stolen his jumper, that’s it. He saw nothing else with this conversation. I was astounded he really could not give two shits about this conversation.

I didn’t care he was a villain or that he was bigger, stronger than me. My quirk wasn’t the best but I had one “Are you fucking kidding” his eyes met my own as they widened and he swallowed “Out of all the things I said you noticed I put on your fucking jumper” I shook my head and let out a yell ‘I’m done, I’m fucking done. I never see you and when I do you eat, sleep or leave again” I looked to him and his eyes had drifted back down “Dabi” I screamed.

His eyes rose from the jumper, was he really that mad I had worn his clothing. I just missed him, not really any more. He stepped forward and eyes narrowed, I swallowed this time. His hand outstretched to grip my neck and he breathed out “You’re so angry” he whispered and his hand gripped tighter my own rising to grip his wrist as I swallowed. “You look so cute baby” his other hand moved along the rim of the jumper which sat on my thigh. A finger moving in between my legs “Open your legs for me baby” I shook my head, I was angry. I was angry and he needed to know. “Baby I will not ask again” eyes glowing I opened my legs and his fingers were instantly on my underwear, that I didn’t realise was wet. “You’re so good for me” his muttered.

Leaning forward his lips crashed into my own as his fingers began to move around touching and groping. I whimpered as his hand tightened again. “Dabi” I whispered out “I’m mad at you” I looked to him as my breath hitched with the perfect circular motion of his fingers.

“I can see that” he responded and moved forward “Why don’t I make it up to you,” he asked and I growled, that was a solution that will end. I shook my head and he tilted his own “I will stay home more, how’s that” he asked and I looked down, I was going to get my point across. His fingers went past my underwear and my knees buckled and he pushed his fingers between my folds.

“Dabi” I moaned, it was instinct. I couldn’t help it, I wanted him. I wanted him so bad. I just wanted him that was the whole fight, I wanted more time with him. I wanted to see him more, spend more time with him was that so bad. I just wanted to be loved “Dabi” my legs shook not able to hold myself up.

His hands left my body and I was hoisted into his arms, I put my head into his neck and breathed out my legs shook lightly, he always knew where to touch, where to press, he knew my body better then I did. We were moving, walking to the room and his lips came to my ear “I am going to ruin you Princess” I moaned into his shoulder. I was thrown onto the bed my body bouncing lightly and he was there, ripping off my underwear within a second. My hands came to the hem of the jumper. “Leave it” my hands stopped and I looked up “You look so fucking cute” he was ripping his own clothes off now. I looked down, this is not where the argument was meant to go but I never wanted this to end. My hands came to push the jumper down to cover myself as he unclothed, scarred skin and staples on show. “Come on move your hands” he whispered looking down to my flushed cheeks.

“I’m still mad at you” I breathed my breath hard and uneven as I held the hem of the jumper tighter over my core. “I wanted an argument” I looked up to him, his eyes were narrowed. “I wanted to yell and scream at you, you can’t just turn it into this when I’m mad. I know you’ll go back straight after this” I finished my head clearing even if only for a moment.

“Princess” he paused a smirk growing across his face “Move your hands” he pronounced each syllable with such anger that I couldn’t help the way my body swallowed and I shrank into the sheets of our bed. I didn’t listen to him, I gripped the jumper tighter “I will not ask again” he growled and I felt my body turn to mush as my hands let go and I was pinned to the bed. “Why are you being bad for me” I didn’t think I was being bad.

“Wait what” I knew what that meant, I shook my head “I’m not being bad, I wanted you to notice how much time you’re away from me” I called out as he moved in between my legs and I could feel his heat along my thigh, I didn’t dare look away from his eyes.

“You said you wanted an argument, you said you wanted to yell and scream” he looked at me and my eyes grew wide, why did I say that. That wasn’t meant to come out, I hadn’t even noticed. This was awful, what did I just do. “If you wanted to scream all you had to do was ask” his hands left my wrists and I knew damn well not to move them.

His body folded and I could feel his hot breath on my core, I looked to the ceiling, that’s all I could do. I had dug this hole now it was my time to lay it in. A slow but purposeful lick came to my centre and I bit my lip to try and keep the sound in my throat from escaping. His tongue was hot as his hands gripped my thighs holding them open. A growl left his lips and I felt the vibration along my very spine. Another long lick from my hole to my clit then he began to swirl. I couldn’t move my hands, I’d be punished more if I did, I wanted to cover my mouth, cover my eyes from this embarrassment. His tongue was so hot as the tip swirl around my bud, my leg twitched and I could feel the twitch of a smirk on his face.

His head rose and I didn’t look at him “It’s cute you’re trying to hold all of your noises in” he was crawling up my body his face now over my own “You look so cute baby” he looked over my face and smiled so softly I believe he could never do wrong. A hand came dragging along my core and I closed my eyes. “Eyes open” I opened my eyes “Look at me” my eyes slowly drifted to his own, a glowing blue like his flames, they burned through me. A finger teased my hole and I felt my chest heave. “Why did you want a fight,” he asked and I breathed out, just as I opened my mouth his finger entered me fast and without resistance. “I’m waiting for a response baby” my hands flexed and I breathed, I had to answer him. My mouth opened again but I only moaned with another thrust from his hand “I’m still waiting” he added and then another finger joined the first “Why aren’t you answering me” I couldn’t my leg twitched at his side his fingers moved continuously. “You know that’s against the rules” his fingers sped up.

“Dabi” I whimpered my hands flexing and I saw his eyes drift to them then back an eyebrow raised, another rule I’d be breaking if I moved them. “Please” I wasn’t able to finish the word as my eyes rolled back and I moaned softly as he continued to move, this wasn’t fair.

“You’re being so naughty tonight” he shook his head and his fingers left my insides to rub my clit and it was an overload of feeling as my eyes went wide and I bit my lip with a vigour unknown to the gods themselves. “Answer me, why did you want a fight. You know how I feel about us fighting” he asked slowly and then his fingers moved faster. I couldn’t stop as I moaned and my hands turned to grip the sheets, his eyes moved to them and then looked back, though he didn’t mention anything. “You are just not answering me tonight, why is that” I wanted to answer but as another moan was ripped out of my throat I couldn’t. He was moving so perfectly, he knew exactly what he was doing, he knew what this did to me, he knew everything.

I could feel the pressure building another rule I’d break if I let it go “Dabi” I whimpered and my watery eyes met his own in pleading “Dabi” it was the only word my mouth could formulate. His eyes met me own and he waited “Please, I need” my head fell back my eyes rolling as he moved his other hand to pump his fingers inside me still watching my face.

“Need what Princess, come on you can tell me” he paused still moving both of his hands to pleasure me in such a way, he knew I was going to cum whether I tried to stop it or not. I clenched my abdomen meaning I clenched around his fingers without meaning too and a small laugh came from his lips. “Come on what do you need,” he asked so innocently.

“I need” I breathed out and choked back a cry of pleasure. “I need to cum” I moaned all thought leaving me. I needed to cum, I couldn’t care less about the fight. That’s what he wanted, he wanted me to submit and let it go as I had so many times before. I wanted to hold onto the fight but he treated me so well when he wasn’t away, he treated me so well.

“You need to cum baby,” he asked his hands moving faster, the friction was perfect oh so perfect, I had no idea how his core strength could hold him over my body and also do this but I didn’t care this is what I wanted, I wanted him to take care of me, to spend time with me. “How badly,” he asked and my eyes rolled back with a powerful thrust of his fingers, the sheets would be soaked. He leaned down and I met his eyes he looked down to my lips and as I moved forward going to kiss him he smirked “You don’t deserve to” and all movement stopped and his hands left my body. My eyes went wide and my arms lifted from the bed only to be pinned back down to the bed and I tried to get any friction against my core. “Oh are you mad” he cooed and a tear rolled down my cheek as the pleasure faded.

“Why would you” I breathed out my chest shaking with each exhale, my legs shook as they sat against his hips. “Dabi I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have” I began, I had no willpower against him, I wanted to fall at his feet, I wanted to follow him, let him do what he wanted. I was his. “Please” the apologies began, the whimpers and everything I had done came pouring out. My plans the whole day “I put on your jumper because I missed you, it smells like you, I’m sorry Dabi, I’m sorry please just please” the words fell from my lips like nothing, there was no filter, no thought only him.

“See” he cooed a hand leaving my wrist to drag down my cheek, I instantly put my cheek into his hand “I own you” I nodded into his hand “You didn’t want to fight, you missed me, didn’t you. Fighting just gets my attention” I nodded again into his palm, like a cat, like some sort of pet. “I understand baby. Come on, let me make it up to you, you seem so stressed” hand left me and moved to open my legs as he moved forward “We can be one again, just say yes and we can be together” he whispered leaning down to kiss my forehead.

His words ran through my head, we could be one. I was his, I was his. I belonged to him. I wanted to be with him forever. “Yes,” I whispered “Please, please” I began and saw his smile grow in fondness “Please I’m yours, I’m yours” I nodded eyes clouded in need and lust. “Please Dabi, I need you” I whimpered and felt him press to my core slowly, his hands held my thighs up and he looked down. “Please, please” I whimpered, I needed him. I needed him inside me. I needed to feel him.

“You know I’d give you anything. All you have to do is ask” he whispered, I knew he meant it. If I actually asked him to leave the league he would, if I asked him to burn the world to the ground, he would. If I asked him to do anything he would make it possible. His lips crashed into my own just as his hips did. I felt so full and a moan fell from my lips as he did. Lips moving with so much vigour, I didn’t care anymore. My hands moved to run through his hair and then gripped harshly into his roots as he nestled his cock inside me. I could feel each vein, each piercing, each pulse. His lips left mine and he was breathing heavily “I’d do anything for you” a thrust of his hips had my hands falling next to my head with my eyes rolling back. “Anything, just say the word” his eyes were wide and his breathing hard, like a predator trying to convince the prey to step past the fence “Anything and it’s yours” he added hands moving to grip my thighs pushing them to my chest and moving his hips. “You’re mine” he breathed out and we met eyes “Holy fuck you’re mine, you’re actually mine” he was repeating himself with each thrust.

I nodded my head not able to have words leave my lips, he was beautiful, oh so beautiful when he was like this. I didn’t care he was a villain, I didn’t care he killed people or that he was with the league, I knew he would never harm me. I knew he loved me, that’s why I stayed, that’s why I dealt with the late nights, the red water in the washing machine, the bloodied footprints at the front door, that smell of burnt skin, the click of the first aid kit at 3 am. I dealt with it all, for him, because I loved him. Because he loves me.

His hands moved to behind my knees and bent them slightly, his hips moving to either be completely inside my being or completely outside, there was no in-between. My socked feet pointed with pleasure one of my sleeve covered hands rested against my mouth and the other on his abdomen fingers outstretched along his abs and scarred flesh. His cock was stretching my walls so nicely that I wanted to thank him, wanted to thank him for his opportunity, this amazing opportunity for him to have me, to have him.

“I want to hear you” he moved down to whisper “Please let me hear how I’m making you feel” my hand moved and then he moved back and looked down to where he was entering my body, I flushed moving the jumper to hold it against his abdomen to hide what he wanted to look at, he slowed down holding himself as deep as he could go, as deep as my body could allow his cock, he was so big, so thick, so perfect. His eyes looked to my own, a blush covering my cheeks “Move your hands” is was so soft but I knew the undertone.

“Don’t watch” I looked away, sure he had seen me naked, we were literally in the middle of bonding but the way he watched himself disappear inside me, made my walls clench and eyes flutter. “It’s embarrassing” I whispered, his cock was pulsing and so hot. So ungodly hot, he ran warmer than most but his cock was burning like his body wanted to ingrain into my own that without this heat I would freeze.

“I want to watch us connect. I want it drawn into my brain, I want to be able to recite every single detail by memory. I want to be able to close my eyes and have a perfect picture. This is for us and us alone. I was your first and I will be your last, this is our thing that no one else can have” his eyes met my own again “You are mine, no one on this whole planet will ever see you like this” he paused “But me” fingers gripped behind my knees tighter “Move your hands” and I did moving my hands to beside my head fingers slightly curled and everything he wanted to see on full view. His hips moved out slowly and then back in “This, this is us” he whispered watching as his cock entered and existed me “No one will ever get the pleasure to call you theirs, no one but me” he nodded and then my knees were against my chest as he pistoned into my body. “You’re mine” he growled lowly “Forever” he added “More than forever” I didn’t hold back my moans, hands gripping his arms to ground myself.

He was moving so fast and so perfectly into that bundle of nerves inside me like it called to him, he knew how to pleasure me, how to absolutely own me, he knew me, this was for me. The pressure was building, faster then I was ready, I clenched around his cock as my body got ready for release. “Dabi” I whimpered and his eyes instantly went to my own “I need to cum” I stuttered in between moans and a smile graced his face.

“Wait, baby and we can cum together,” he asked and I did nothing but nod and clench my abdomen to try and hold on. My nails dug into his arms, the scarred tissue he couldn’t feel all that well, my moans were loud and my breathing uneven. His hips did not let up their pace or vigour as he began to groan himself. “Baby” my watery eyes met his own and he smiled “Together,” he asked and I nodded. “You’re mine, forever” it was a threat and with those words, he thrusted as deep as he could possibly go and everything broke.

My walls clenched around his cock harshly as my orgasm ran through every single one of my cells, each cell shaking and the orgasm ripping through my body like a burst dam, his cock was so deep inside me I could feel his hip bone pressing into my body, cock desperately trying to open the passage to my womb as his cum pumped into the awaiting organ. I whimpered and moaned my thanks as my eyes rolled back and my legs shook. His seed was burning like his body was trying to show my own he was here and to remember what this felt like. I never forgot. The shaking slowed down and his breathing eased but his cock never left my body, I didn’t want him too. This was the most connected we could be, I never wanted this to end.

Dabi’s hand raised my head so I could meet his eyes and it was like I could see everything, we were connected. “You’re mine” I nodded “Forever” he whispered with a small smirk like he had won something everyone was after. “You look so cute in my jumper baby, wear it more. I want to be with you when I can’t” I nodded again and our lips met for another kiss.

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melyaliz · 3 years

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Remember Me 9

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Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x OC

Notes: I'm due in a little over a month... and it's the weirdest feeling.

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--------Olive---------

“Oh my god, I can’t breath” Olive giggled, crumbling into Eliott’s lap. Her husband smiled down at her gently playing with her hair.

“This is serious Olive!” Eliott said, his smile melting away to a very strained serious one. His dark brown eyes studying her face, “it’s the greatest story ever told. Guy dates a woman, woman’s ex is a mob boss who is involved in an illegal fashion, mob boss’s daughter almost gets killed. Now the guy must use his skills from the years of being in the other four movies to get revenge on his girlfriend’s daughter’s father. Tale as old as time “

“I’m just saying they should have killed the guy and the daughter could have gone full ninja killer and taken out her father and his gang.” Olive giggled, wiping her eyes from the tears of laughter that had been rolling down her cheeks.

“That would probably have been a better movie… but would it also have bad dummy shots?” her husband asked.

“Of course” sitting up inspiration struck, “I have an idea!” Eliott watched her as she sat straight up. “You write the action and I will write the romance.”

“How much romance will there be if the daughter is 12 years old.”

“Well romance and character stuff.” she shrugged, “And you can add in all the poorly done dummy blow-ups you want.”

“I will,” Eliott said nodded, “But only if I can use sex dolls.”

“Like, Hard Ticket to Hawaii? Oh, wait! Now hear me out” Olive giggled scooting up so she was now straddling her husband taking his hands in her own. A goofy smile spread across Eliott’s face as he weaved his fingers into her own.

“Oh are we at the wait stage of drunk Olive?”

“Shhhh” she giggled leaning forward slightly brushing her nose on his, “But really, this is serious.” Cleaning her throat for dramatic effect she continued, “a Hard Ticket to Hawaii Death Wish 4 crossover.”

“Oh girl,” Eliott said, his voice hitting a higher pitch on his girl . Olive giggled pushing herself forward so she was resting on his chest.

“I love you.”

“No way really?” Eliott gave a fake gasp “That’s sooo weird because you know what? I love you too”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

“ So just be ready,” Kirishima said, prepping the gang, “She’s… the same but different. ”

The group nodded in unison, game faces ready for whatever was coming. And that something was slowly walking toward when in the form of Bakugou and Olive.

Right off the bat it was obvious something was off. While they were holding hands it looked unnatural. Bakugou’s shoulders were hunched and he seemed to be looking anywhere but at Olive who was talking in the city as if she had never walked down this street before. Her large hazel eyes taking in everything, mouth slightly open.

“Olive! Bakugou!” Kirishima said, waving. At the sound of his voice, Olive looked up and waved, a smile on her face as she looked over at the group of others standing with them. Her eyes intently taking everyone in as if searching for something that wasn’t there

“ Hello! ” she said as they both stood there awkwardly. Hands had been let go and now hanging at their sides. Limp as if unsure what to do.

There were a few more awkward nodes before Kirishima led them all inside toward the balcony seating, their usual stop. “T his place is amazing! ” Olive said looking around her eyes wide as she took in the atmosphere. Everyone froze as the blissfully unaware woman turned to her husband, “ How did you find this place Katsuki? ”

“ I didn’t, you did,” he said as everyone around him winched slightly. The awkwardness was so thick you could almost taste it, and it didn't taste good.

“Oh.” her voice soft as she bit her top lip looking down at her purple painted nails. She had found her polish that morning and had decided to try out the fun colors.

There was a long pause when Mina spoke up, “How’s Clare and Lilly and the others? ”

Olive blinked looking up, “ You know the girls? ”

“ Yeah, we have wine and Rupaul's Drag race nights. I think the last one we did was about a month ago wasn’t it? ” the last statement, more of a question than a comment.

“Uhhh” Olive shrugged unsure how to respond

“ She doesn’t remember it ” Kaminari mumbled to the little pinked haired girl. And again there was a lapse of awkwardness. Turning to Momo from across the table Olive pointed to her shirt.

“ I love your shirt so cute! ” she said, stumbling slightly over her words. Momo lit up pointing to the shirt that Olive had gotten Momo for the hero’s birthday. The words “Females are strong as hell” in English was written in script across the chest. She had gotten it because she always told Momo, who was the 4th hero and number 1 female, that she was the most badass out of everyone (and that ranking didn’t mean shit). Also, they were both addicted to “Unbreakable Kimmy Shimitt”

“Thank you, I’m Momo '' the dark-haired hero said, noticing how much Olive was struggling trying to piece together who was who. Before they had come Momo and her fiancee Shoto Todoroki had decided to treat her like they had met for the first time. “ and this is Shodo, my fiancee .”

“I’m Mina! ” Mina said quickly and everyone else followed suit with a quick round of introductions.

“Yeah, I have pictures ” Olive lit up at the introduction. “The fair.”

“What picture did you have ?” Momo asked, leaning forward.

“This one of the fair? ” Olive said, holding up the phone leaning over the table to hand her the phone. Watching them Kirishima chuckled leaning toward Bakugou.

“Why are they across the table from each other?”

Bakugou shrugged, rolling his eyes, not shocked by the poor seating choices. After coordinating this whole night was he really now in charge of seating as well?

“Oh, that was so fun. ” Momo smiled looking at the photo. Memories of her trip to the US where Olive had given her the grand tour.

“ Oh is that the American Fair? What other pictures do you have? Do you have the one from when we all went to that spa? Do you have the one of us in those masks making the peace sign? What about... ” Mina was bursting with questions going way too fast for Olive to keep up. The poor girl’s smile looked slightly strained as she tried to look like she was understanding more than every other word from the excited pink haired girl.

“You’re going to fast for her! ” Bakugou barked out noticing the very overwhelmed look in his wife’s eyes, “ She's still learning .”

“Oh sorry Olive” Mina whispered looking down at her hands feeling her face flush.

“Don’t yell at her.” Olive said good naturally in English nudging Bakugou playfully with her shoulder. The blonde looked like the wind had been knocked out of him her words cutting him harder than he wanted to admit. “Which picture did you want to see Mina?”

Before the pink girl could respond the waiter came up to introduce herself and take drink orders. A look of desperation came over Olive’s face as she looked down at the menu. Anxiety quickly flooded her system. The social pressure of trying to be normal while navigating a language she was still learning was extremely stressful. And this was besides the fact she had no idea what was good here or what she would like to order. Did she had a regular drink here? If so, what was it?

Desperately she looked down at the Japanese characters as if they would suddenly jump out and give her all the answers.

A large hand slammed over the menu making Olive lookup. Bakugou’s intense red gaze met her hazel one.

“I’ll order for you,” he said softly in English, more of a statement than an offer. His red eyes studding her as if reading all her thoughts. She smiled softly at him making him flush slightly looking away from her to the waiter ordering quickly.

“Thank you” she whispered, her hand gently brushing against his arm. Her fingertips leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. It felt like her touch was fire.

Quickly he rubbed his arm as if he could put out the flames that were licking at his skin.

Fuck. He had it bad.

“Yeah well you looked so lost.” he grumbled looking away turning to Kirishima who was intently watching the conversation with the most annoying smile on his face. “ What are you looking at? ” Struggling Kirishima’s annoying smirk didn’t fade but he offered no explanation for his expression.

Typical.

Lucky for Bakugou the conversation shifted to other things. Work, life, weird food Kaminari had tried last week on his trip to Bermuda.

Olive quickly picked up her conversation with Momo about the place she was looking into for her wedding and life in general. Since they were - as Kirishima had pointed out- sitting across the table from each other, Olive had to basically lean up over the top of the table to shout of the music that was playing in the background.

Bakugou couldn’t help but frown watching as his wife literally looked like she was crawling over. Her eyes bright as the two talked. It was the most enthusiastic she had been in a long time.

“If you want to be with her so bad go sit over there, ” he said, it came out much harder than he had meant it to be. But he was annoyed and sometimes -ok most times- had a hard time masking his emotions. Olive blinked looking up at him confused for a moment before getting up from her seat moving over - much to Momo’s delight- to sit down next to her. He could see her pulling out her phone probably to show off pictures of Dolemite. Or maybe to ask more about the people who littered it. He could tell she felt awkward about asking him those questions. Knowing it hurt.

But also he wanted her next to him. To feel her next to him. To know she was still there with him.

“ OMG I love this song !” Mina squealed as a song came on.

“ Let’s dance, ” Momo said, getting up knowing Olive loved to dance. Normally she was the one dragging the girls onto the floor. At the promise of dancing Olive lit up as she stood to follow them. However before she left she glanced over at Bakugou, as if checking in with him.

“Why are you looking at me? Go!”

Olive flashed him a wide smile before following the girls into the crowd. The other two girls grabbed her laughing as they swayed with the music. Not having to talk just laughing and enjoying each other’s company. The universal girl code of good music and alcohol.

Three songs later and she was slowing down, taking a moment to breathe looking around the dance floor.

And that was when she thought she saw him.

Long blonde hair pulled up in a man bun. A basic flannel shirt, on the shorter side with broad shoulders leaning on the bar, his back to her.

Eliott

Her brain zoned in on it, for a second she forgot he was dead. Forgot he was gone.

That first month after his death she saw him everywhere. Heard his laugh. Sensed his presence. Slowly it had gotten better. His presence slowly fading from the bright sun of the day to the dark of night or in those first moments when she was waking up. And even more recently his presence had slowly faded. Her brain too busy trying to understand this whole new life she was living to focus on the loss.

But as the man turned and she saw it was clearly not him something washed over her. Hit her right in the face crushing her inside.

She didn’t even realize she was crying until Momo came up and hugged her.

“What happened?” she whispered in English as Olive raised her hands to her face trying to stop the tears. But they wouldn’t stop. Her chest so heavy it felt like her whole body was filled with sadness and the only way out was through her tears.

“I just… I thought… I saw Eliott.” she hiccuped, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Momo asked, frowning as she studied Olive. Mina, whose English was not as good, hovered around them both rubbing Olive’s shoulder trying to understand what had happened.

“I just… can't stop crying.” Olive sobbed trying to take deep breaths to gain control of herself.

“It’s been a lot for you.” Momo said, “come here” she hugged the girl for a moment before pulling away.

“ It’s ok to miss someone. ” Mina said, holding out a napkin she had grabbed from the bar.

“Yeah and for you it’s been very recent.” Monmo added nodding

“I just feel guilty… Katsuki.” Olive fumbled through the words trying to explain all the emotions that were swerling like some muddy concoction in her chest.

“ Oh Bakugou can get over it. ” Momo said, waving her hand trying to keep her words simple so both girls could understand what she was saying, “ he gets all moody but he really cares about you. ”

“ Yeah, the first time I met you he was so… relaxed. ” Mina said, trying to find the right words, “ None of us had ever seen him that way before. ”

“ He was happy. ” Momo nodded, “ He will be fine, you need to focus on yourself.”

From across the bar Bakugou had lost sight of where the girls had gone. The crowd was getting thicker and thicker as the night had dragged on. He knew Olive would be safe with Momo and Mina there but still, he wanted to make sure she was ok.

And then he caught a glimpse of them. Standing at one of the far corners of the dance floor. Momo and Mina standing over Olive, hovering around her with concern on their faces. For a moment Mina moved and he could see Olive clearly, holding a small white napkin wiping her eyes.

Shit.

“ Hey bro where are you ?”

“ Just drink your beer. ” Bakugou interrupted Kirishima as he quickly made his way to the dance floor. Momo’s eyes met his and she shook her head but he didn’t care. Olive wasn’t Momo’s wife, she was his. They were supposed to be distracting her, not reminding her about her memory loss.

“Hey,” he said, reaching out for her. Olive turned eyes wide, still slightly glassy from her tears. Her makeup smudged. “Dance with me.” pulling her away from the girls who looked like they were about to protest. But one death glare from Bakugou told them not too.

He led her across the floor, his red eyes studying her as she took a few shaky breaths. Trying to compose herself. After a few moments her body slowly relaxed letting him lead as he felt her slowly lose herself in the music again.

“You dance?” she asked looking up at him.

“Depends.” he said shrugging

“Humm” she hummed, nodding like Eliott was what she was thinking. Eliott Eliott Eliott. Even Momo got more out of her than him. He felt like she was more comfortable around everyone but him. “You know” she said leaning forward resting her head on his chest catching him off guard. “I like to be with you too.”

He froze, his stomach clutching tightly, his breath coming out in a short gasp. She looked up at him with those hazel eyes studying him. “What you said about Momo, I like being with you too.”

“I heard you the first time” he said sharply only to soften quickly.

“I… I obviously liked being with you before or I wouldn’t have married you.” she added a genuine grin spreading across her face.

“That would make sense.” He said nodding as they swayed in the music both caught up in their own thoughts. Eyes meeting, dancing in the lights overhead. For a second it felt as if time stood still and Olive was sworn she wasn’t in real life but in some weird musical romcom. As if her whole life was some televised novel filled with hi-jinks and drama.

Caught up in the moment Bakugou gently leaned forward, his nose brushing hers before pausing. Her heart leapt into her throat at the soft intimate touch. Crimson eyes searching hazel for a moment before moving closer, his warm breath caressing her ear.

“Let me kiss you?”

- GET TAGGED -

Master List

Story Tag: @0hmydeku @inumorph @it-jinxed-us @myraticm

#bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou katsuki x oc #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou katsuki

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dam-mango-cheese · 3 years

Text

ok hi I just wanted to come on here to say that this fandom really needs to get our shit together. it's not just about the toxicity and stuff, it's the rude and toxic things we've normalized to the point that we don't even notice when someone does it. so here goes a list of stuff we need to stop doing also I'm pissed rn sorry if I come off as rude. this is also not directed at anyone in particular so please don't take offense.

uh giving credit????? "giving credit who??" you may ask. well. let's start with artists. if you repost someone's art, pLEASE for the love of god give credit. it's not that hard. if you find art on google, pinterest, etc. and don't know who to credit, then don't post it??? it really is that easy. or you could do a reverse image search, if you don't know how to do that on your device, google it. if you don't know what google is?? go back to that rock you were living under before thanks.

moving onto the second part of the giving credit point. CHECK THEIR PROFILE BEFORE POSTING. many artists don't allow reposts. or sometimes they want you to ask for permission first. some artists also allow "normal" reposts but not for example in video edits. so please do check their bio and/or any highlights titled "important!" or something similar.

next we have the way of crediting. please do tag the artist in the actual post. so many people tend to just mention them in the caption. some even do it with the @/username instead of directly tagging them. I know for a fact most people prefer to be tagged in the actual post so please do. it's literally not that hard I don't see the problem?????

now pls remember to credit people who make textposts or memes too. an artist might spend more time on an artwork then your average meme maker spends on a post, but it's still important to credit them. even if we don't spend AS much time on our posts, doesn't mean we don't spend time on them. we take time out of our personal life to make posts for your enjoyment and if you think my post is good enough to repost you should certainly have the decency to at least give me credit tyvm.

now if you found the post on tumblr, twitter, etc. and don't know who to credit??? don't post it. or at least search their @ on instagram to see if they have the same/similar instagram username. you can also dm them on tumblr/twt/whatever and ask them if it's ok that you repost their stuff on instagram and if they have an instagram @ they would want you to use. if you don't do any of these at least write their username from another platform in the caption and mention to those who see the post on which platforms they can find whoever made the posts. that was a little messy but i hope it made sense.

i also wanna point out that the tagging point stands for memes, textposts, etc. too. it's really annoying when people can't bother to tag someone in the actual post. it's literally easier than tagging them in the caption what's the fkn problem?????

kinda like the last point but please tag both artists and other credits. like I'll see people who tag the artist on the first slide and then only tag textpist credits in the caption or just not credit memes and stuff at all???? like why?? if you know how to give credit to artists why is it so hard to do the same for other content?

finally moving on to something else. let's address the opinion stuff. this one's gna be short because my brain is empty rn. just let people have their own opinions. there's no need for you to go and state yours under someone else's post. usually all it does is to stir up drama, and believe me, no one wants that. this is especially to the people who can't state their opinion respectfully. if your opinion involves dragging someone else down or making them feel bad for what they think?? don't say it. don't. it doesn't make anyone feel better about anything and it's just rude and disrespectful. stop. thank you.

to the hardcore, toxic percabeth shippers: no <3. it's not cool of you to be 🤪the most hardcore percabeth shipper ever™️🤪. it's not a competition. it's just annoying. someone makes a perachel post??? big deal, none of your business. why does it matter that they ship perachel and you don't?? it's literally not a big deal let them have their opinion pls. someone says they ship pipabeth???? "NO PERCABETH IS THE ELITE SHIP FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!" 🤌throw your device across the room to release your anger🤌

now I've had this in my drafts for a while and one time I accidentally posted it, someone saw it before I had time to delete it and dm'd me to ask if all of this also applies when you reblog/retweet. obviously if you screenshotted someone's post or art all of the points above still stand. but if you just reblog or retweet, the original posters username will automatically showed and accessible so it's totally fine!

#yes i realize this is 90% about giving credit bc i literally could not come up with anything else #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackson fandom #riordanverse #rick riordan #percy jackson #pjato

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hotchley · 3 years

Note

dkfjsksj omg SWEETIE when are you publishing your novel!!! bc i would SO BUY IT JUST TO SUPPORT YOU OMG

pls make it available worldwide i 10/10 would buy regardless of shipping fees

just curious: are you planning to self publish your book or go through external publishers? have you planned for how you want the cover to look like? 👀

how many pages is it so far? are you almost done or not there yet? (it's honestly fine if you're not, masterpieces take time!!!!! ❤️)

omg also do you do like moodboards/aesthetics/song playlists kind of things for your characters 🥴 bc that would be a very cool way to introduce them! but honestly i know life is tiring and very busy already so it's okay if you don't have time for this

also: where did you come up with their names? (bc honestly i keep using names of people i know irl when i write.... i once merged 2 of my friend's ex boyfriends names and tweaked them a little to form an unsub's name so 😭💀💀)

i hope writing has been going smoothly for you!! remember to drink water & take breaks! you can do it, i believe in you 🥰❤️

🌙

I love you so much! I love all of you because you really came through with these questions!! It was a very good distraction <3 I've put everything below the cut because I feel like my answers were getting very, very long x

1. OKAY SO HERE'S THE THING!

I'm currently in the process of editing, and I was going to publish it on Wattpad and enter the Wattys (if I get it up in time) and see what happens... I know Wattpad has a bit of a... reputation, but it's the most accessible platform for me and others to use, because I want it to be available to lots of different people, and that's both free and not difficult to use because you can change the colour scheme and font size.

2. On the one hand. I want it published because I think it would be really cool. It's extremely long (and by all the guidelines I've seen, a little bit too long for a young adult novel) but it's mine, and I did it, and I would want to share that with others. On the other hand, I have no idea how to go about self-publishing, and I hate being criticised, so publishing is a bit of a... iffy thing. I've also got very little knowledge of publishing in general. And I like writing for fun you know? Like I started planning my second novel, and wrote a bit of that, but then I got sucked back into this, and fanfic, and I know I don't want to write for a living.

And I'm not saying that if you publish one thing, you need to do it full-time, but still. Also, the idea of some of the people I know being aware that I wrote a novel and the contents of it... no. That just fills with my dread. So I think I'll put it up on Wattpad, and we'll see what happens!

I do have a cover! It's very amateur, but it kinda matches the one I did when I was writing it into my notebook, so to me it's something sentimental. I mean, the notebook cover was just the title, so this is a bit more exciting with an actual image lol

3. It's currently thirty-one chapters. Well, thirty-three if you include the prologue and epilogue. It's also 452 pages, but the chapters don't always start on new pages, and if you think that's bad, the second draft somehow ended up being 670 pages (but I think that's to do with the spacing getting all messed up...) As it stands, it's 172536 words umm....

I'm getting closer to finishing!! I finished chapter twenty-five last night, so I just have six chapters and the epilogue to go. I'm pretty sure some of them are shorter, but I have vivid memories of the final chapter being LONG. I just checked, it's 13,776 words... so... may split that in two whoops :)

4. YES!! YES I DO!! I have a whole pinterest board that I only made after the second draft?? It's basically what led to the third draft. I was like: oh, I'm not ready to say goodbye, let me make a pinterest board. And then when I was trying to think of things to search to make it I was like: I have no idea how to describe any of these people...

I have a moodboard for the five main characters, and one for the aesthetic of the school. And I'm thinking: the week leading up to the publication, I'm going to share each character one, and (I already have the post in my drafts) the post with all the information is going to have the Eros Academy one :)

And there's a playlist! I need to sort it out because there are some songs on there that I kinda don't really like/no longer fit with what I want it to be, but then I also just use it as something to listen to whilst I write, so maybe not... the playlist is going to be part of a) the post with all the stuff and b) the aesthetics chapter <3

4. Names.... names were complicated. Many people had them changed. If you're wondering what I mean by many:

Tiberias -> Tristan

Mr Winchester -> Mr Carter

Eleanora -> Viola

Spencer -> Peter

Green -> Gill

The Headmaster -> Rotchforth

And so many people's parents just weren't named so... I just chose their names super randomly. I chose names because I wanted them to sound all noble and fancy. And then I wanted some more normal and ordinary names. And some of them I just chose because I liked them.

I did like looking at the meanings though, just for a bit of fun

It's been fun!! I will <3 I'm also self-isolating (I tested negative, but regardless) so there's not really much else I can do... let's ignore the virtual experience, personal statement and coursework reading I'm supposed to be working on....

#🌙anon #people talk to me

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kickingitwithkirk · 4 years

Text

The Coupon Book Of Love

Summary: Dean and Y/N have a falling out during a hunt and return not speaking. This upsets Jack who decides to help fix their relationship.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Confused Jack Kline, Mentions of Sam and Cas

A/N: for @winchester-fantasies #winchesterfantasies1000followerschallenge.

Word Count: 2623

Warnings: fluff, some arguments, ogling of m/f body, necking, mild language, implied sex

Prompt: 10. “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.”

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing fluff so hopefully it doesn’t suck and there was to be coupon photos included but I couldn’t get them the right size and had to delete.

*No beta, all mistakes are mine

*****

Jack Kline was sad.

Dean and Y/N had returned from a hunt not speaking to each other. This was not completely abnormal for them. Their relationship is one of extreme passions, running hot or cold depending on the day.

It was when Y/N moved back into her old room and Dean started drinking all the whiskey in the bunker they all knew something very bad had happened. Sam tried to find out what had happened but all he could get out of either of them was ask Dean or ask Y/N.

After Sam retired for the night, Jack went to his father Castiel and asked why do people who are in love like Y/N and Dean hurt each other?

He said that human love is complicated and had no definitive answer.

Jack could not let them go on like this. Y/N was perfect for Dean, she could help with his highs and lows, make him smile when he was in one of his dark moods and had an off kilter sense of humor that matched his.

So Jack turned to the internet looking for the answer.

He found all sorts of sites with recommendations how to: repair relationships, muddle through misunderstandings, blogs from magazines like Cosmo on how to fix things with your significant other, spice up your love life, even watching Dr. Phil on YouTube.

But most of the advice given was about vocalizing thoughts and feelings and Dean doesn’t do those things.

Jack starts thinking when they return from a hunt Y/N will say to Dean, “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.” Dean’s eyes always lit up like the displays at Christmas when Y/N asks him for a cuddle. Which is weird because Dean is vocal that he doesn’t cuddle.

Sam teases Dean that Y/N’s secret code for nookie didn’t fool anyone. Dean tells him to shut up while smiling.

Jack shakes his head, is cuddle and nookie the same or are they different things...humans are very confusing.

He’s about ready to quit when he notices a tab for Pinterest that wasn’t closed yesterday and clicks on it. There were a few boards; cooking, pies, vintage cars, pinup girls.

Unlike what Sam is always saying, Dean does use the internet for more than watching porn.

Jack scrolls around for a while looking at other pins when he sees something. Tapping on the photo he reads the description. He likes the idea presented but it’s not quite right for Dean and Y/N...

...so he comes up with his own plan.

******

The Next Morning

Dean staggers into the kitchen looking for coffee. Lots of coffee after another night spent with Jack, Jim and some wild turkey. Going over to the pot he wonders why Sam hadn't made it after his morning run like usual. Dean sees a piece of paper taped to it with a typed message.

Please go to the library ASAP.

Dean ponders the note while the coffee is brewing and grudgingly heads there after pouring a mug. He is surprised to see Y/N standing by the table looking as tired as he felt. Then he notices a paper in her hand. “Got one too?” He asks, slowly moving to the other side, the table separating them.

She nods once in acknowledgment.

On the table between them is a letter and two small boxes with their names written on them. Dean slides the letter towards him and reads it out loud.

Dear Dean and Y/N,

I don’t like it when you fight, it makes me sad. You're treating your love as something disposable. I want you to be happy like before and since both of you are stubborn so I’ve come up with a way to help.

Each box possesses a specifically tailored coupon for each of you with extra, individual instructions accompanying it and must be completed together once a day in order.

Sam, Cas and I are on a hunt so you have the bunker to yourselves. Have fun.

PS: No peeking ahead-this means you Dean.

*****

CAR WASH

I can't believe I agreed to do this repeatedly going through Dean's head as he entered the garage after they had opened the boxes and shared their first coupons.

He’s grabbing the paraphernalia kept there for bathing his Baby when Y/N walks in wearing...oh crap...that button down plaid shirt tied up under her bust and those cutoffs made from an old pair of jeans of his that hug her curves just right.

Okay, if that’s how she want to play…game on baby.

Dean hands her a sudsy bucket giving her the look. Y/N blinks perplexed as he walks over turning on the faucet and starts wetting down the Impala.

She pulls out the sponge and starts soaping down the passenger side as Dean works on the drivers side. They watch each other, quickly looking away when caught.

By the time they meet at the trunk they're both wet, Dean’s t-shirts clinging, accentuating his torso and his jeans have molded to his bowed legs and scrumptious bum. Y/N abruptly hurries to the front of the car.

Dean, smirking to himself, makes the mistake of looking up through the windows. He can see Y/N stretching over the hood as far as she can reach, water and bubbles sliding over the slope of her breasts, nipples pebbled up under the material.

She bends down in front and he quietly steps to his right looking down the side of the car and can see her pert rear swaying in the air as she's scrubbing the grill. Dean reaches over the top of his jeans, pushing down his harding length.

“Okay, she's clean enough, I'll finish up here.” Dean gruffly states. Y/N pops up confused, “Um, are you sure, we haven't waxed yet.”

Dean feels himself flushing, that’s the last thing he needs right now is Y/N’s breasts bouncing as she's vigorously buffing his...car. “I forgot to get a new can, we’ll do it later.”

“I’ll go get cleaned up and meet you back here in an hour for the next part.” Y/N says as she leaves the garage hips swaying as she walks up the steps.

“Good thing were not leaving right away.” Dean mutters to himself grimacing at how his wet jeans have become way too constricting.

~~~~

Y/N slid the prepacked basket onto the trunk and shut it, hearing Dean come to a sudden halt and peered over the roof at him, taking in his flushed expression.

“Something wrong?” She inquires.

“I.. uh..I haven't seen you in that in a long time.” Dean stammers out awestruck waving his hand at Y/N’s appearance. Her hairs pinned up in loose waves and dressed in the tea length, off the shoulder summer dress he loves on her.

“Not the most practical thing to wear when chopping off a vamps head.” She quips.

“So, where are we going?” Dean asks, pulling the key out of his pocket.

“I’m to drive us...” she starts, “Nope, not happening sweetheart.” Dean steely interrupts.

Sighing Y/N walks over, “My instructions say I'm to drive to a predetermined location and I can't tell you where it is so I need the keys,” holding her hand out, “Please.”

Dean clenched his jaw reluctantly handing her the keys and got in the passenger side.

They drove for about an half hour, Dean glaring out the front window the entire time. Y/N turned onto a tree lined gravel road going a quarter mile before stopping. They sit in silence gazing out the front window astounded.

In front of them is an abundantly flowering meadow surrounding a small, private lake.

Jack couldn't have picked out a more perfect place.

“Sooo...what are we supposed to be doing?”

Y/N hands him the coupon reading…

ROMANTIC PICNIC

*****

MOVIE NIGHT

Y/N enters the Dean Cave not surprised Dean’s already settled in one of the recliners with pizza, popcorn and various other snacks spread out and a twelve pack Margiekugel cooling in the iced tub between the chairs.

They had spent the day doing various choirs separately around the bunker to give each other some space after yesterday. Y/N admitted to intentionally teasing Dean while washing the Impala and vice versa. During their picnic, something neither of them would ever normally do, they had fun together.

Dean seemed to be enjoying spending time together like they haven’t had much of lately but when they got back he decided to go out for a few cold ones instead of spending the evening in and pissing off Y/N.

“Ready for a marathon of The Man with No Name sweetheart?” Dean smugly asks trying to get a rise out of her. Y/N’s grabs some pizza and settling in the other chair takes a big bite of the meat lovers slice and chews slowly. Dean stares wondering why she hasn’t reacted, well aware Eastwood is not a favorite of hers.

Y/N finishes chewing, fishes a beer out of the tub opening it and after taking a long draw finally glances at Dean and flashes her coupon.

CONTROL OF THE REMOTE

“Sonovabitch,” Dean spits out, sinking in the chair cause knowing Y/N she’ll pick some long-ass, drawn out British dramedy that Sam’s the only one willing to watch with her, “I'm gonna get that Nephilim for this,” he pouts but will never admit he’s actually pouts.

A saccharin smile crosses Y/N’s lips as she takes the remote from him and brings up the menu to select a movie. Dean kills the beer in his hand and grabs another as she continues searching, occasionally clicking on one before going back undecided.

“Will you just pick something so we can get it over with.” Dean surly growls out, opening his fifth beer. Y/N gives him an annoyed huff pressing start.

Dean jerks upright in surprise at her choice, “Seriously, we're watching...”

“...I don't like spaghetti westerns but seems you forgot I do like slasher films,” Y/N interrupts, “and don't you dare tell Sam, he already thinks I'm off my beam since we got together as it is.”

“Alright and I'll not take that last part as an insult.” Dean happily agrees, snagging the popcorn/M&M’s bowl shoveling in a mouthful as Y/N rolls her eyes, settling in to enjoy an evening of some slice and dice together.

*****

HOME COOKED MEAL

‘’Argh! This is ridiculous, what made Jack think I could cook anything?” Y/N yells at the tablet sitting innocuous on the counter in front of her with the recipe Jack had picked out, taunting her.

Dean stopped in the doorway observing the mess Y/N is making of his kitchen. The flour bag is tipped over one counter spilling on the floor, the cutting board has something green cut into so many different shapes it's unidentifiable, other various items scattered about as the skillet on the stove is starting to smoke.

Then the alarm goes off screeching throughout the kitchen.

“Turn the stove off!” He yells over the alarm rushing over switching the stove off and grabbing a lid to smother the fire. Once it's out he turns on Y/N, “Are you trying to burn the place down? Don't you know not to set the heat on high under oil?”

“Yes Dean, I'm trying to burn the bunker down so I can get out of doing this!” Y/N screeches loudly waving the coupon in Dean’s shocked face.

He's never heard her like this, Y/N is one of those people that nothing outside of hunting makes her lose her cool, it’s one of the reasons he fell for her.

Dean approaches cautiously, reaches out placing his hands on her shoulders and slowly running his hands up and down her arms. “Baby, it’ll be fine but you need to calm down,” softly speaking in the soothing voice he used to use to calm Sam down when he was little and having a nightmare. “Now, what are we fixing for dinner?”

“Salmon Croquettes with wild rice and steamed asparagus.” Y/N glances over at the tablet, “I can’t understand why Jack would give me this, he knows I can’t even boil water outside of a tea kettle and...what do you mean we?”

“You really think Jack would intentionally let you cook anything outside of a bowl of cereal after the Cajun waffle incident?”

“They weren’t that bad.”

“Sweetheart, we had to buy a new waffle iron.”

“Alright Guy Fieri, what does yours say?” Dean pulls the coupon out of his pocket.

DESERT NIGHT

“I got your favorites and if you're a good girl,” Dean pauses, licking his lips teasingly, “I’ll let you decide how to devour them.”

*****

Dean grabs his jacket off the chair back and heads to the library looking forward to tonight's activities. Well, he’s part of it anyways since Y/N hinted hers was something he never ever did.

Dean steps up into the room and stops dead in his tracks when he sees Y/N sitting at the table in her outfit for evening.

“Damn sweetheart.”

“You don’t clean up to bad yourself Winchester,” Y/N remarks as she gets up walking around him, seeming to be mentally undressing him, “and since I don’t know where we’re doing tonight I was thinking that if you play your cards right,” she leans up, her voice husky next to his ear, “you might get lucky.”

Dean takes his plump lower lip between his teeth and slowly lets it slide out making Y/N’s breath hitch as they stare into each other's eyes.

“So what are we doing tonight?” Y/N inquiries in a slightly breather voice than normal.

DATE NIGHT

Dean slides his arms around her waist, “I was thinking of taking you somewhere you haven’t been in a while,” he leans down kissing along her collarbone, moving up the side of her neck, “depends on what your half of the evening entails.”

Y/N retrieves the coupon from her jeans back pocket and Dean groans, dropping his head onto her shoulder.

SLOW DANCE

“I was thinking we can do what this coupon literally says or we could interpret it a different way.”

“Okay, I'm listening.” Dean mumbles.

“Well, there was no specific instruction from Jack as to what type of slow dance...” Dean’s head snaps up, his pupils dilating to the point the mossy green color has all but disappeared as Y/N keeps talking about the different types of slow dancing they could try.

“What are you asking?” Dean interrupts, his whisky roughened voice is even more gravelly sounding as his aching with desire.

Y/N walks backwards till her hips bump against the library's table, hops up on it leaning back onto her elbows, “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.”

~~~~

Later that night

“So we agree we're not gonna tell them the real reason for our fight?” Y/N asks as she finishes braiding her shower damp hair, sitting at the foot of the bed. Deans leaning against the headboard with their last two coupons sitting upside down next to his sweat pant clad hip.

“They’ll think it’s stupid, especially Sam,” Dean remarks, “so, you ready to admit that Die Hard is a Christmas movie.”

“Nope, you're never gonna convince me,” Y/N pronounces as she climbs onto Dean's lap leaning forward to softly brush her lips over Dean's before sitting back and picking up the coupons turns them over...

YOU WIN THE FIGHT

“I think we better hang on to these, ya know, just in case.”

#winchesterfantasies1000followerschallenge #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #deanxreader #sam winchester #castiel #jack kline #spn #dean winchester x you

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aislinswalsh · 3 years

Photo

AHHHH IS THIS REAL LIFE? I’M SO EXCITED TO BE HERE WOW ! hello friends ! i’m so pumped to get to know all of your children, and i hope you like my painfully irish angel bby aislin. her app did get a bit long so i tried to type up a tldr version, but shutting me up is practically impossible so forgive me if that’s long too. i do have a few wanted connections listed below as well, but if nothing tickles your fancy i’m super open to seeing where the cat drags us or plotting out something else entirely ! @opalsmedia

bio that’s just my app . pinterest . playlist .

[ HALEY LU RICHARDSON, CISWOMAN, SHE/HER ] shh ! AISLIN WALSH, the TWENTY-ONE year old SECOND year FILM & PHILOSOPHY major from WATERFORD IRELAND, is known as a SAPPHIRE around here. SHE was invited to join because OF HER AWARD WINNING SHORT FILMS, and now, they’re here to stay. SHE reminds me of PICKING FLOWERS ON HER WAY TO CLASS, WRITING LOVE LETTERS IN FOREIGN LANGUAGES, THE ART OF SETTING YOURSELF ON FIRE TO KEEP OTHERS WARM.

A Very Brief History:

Aislin grew up a very wild child, which her parents did not like at all. They chose to pay more attention to her brother who muted himself for their approval, and followed them blindly. She took solace in books, and making her own little movies or music videos with her friends. Think of those cringey MVs made by seventh graders. Very imaginative as a child as she spent a lot of time alone. She learned how to entertain herself no matter the occasion, and played a lot with the nannies, maids, gardeners, and cooks on their estate.

She comes from old money, as the Walsh’s own a long line of car manufacturers throughout the Republic of Ireland and the United Kingdom. Her family praises her older brother for being responsible for getting a deal to import their cars to the US and asia. He was also a member of the society, and her parents never expected Aislin to be invited to join. Especially her mother who doesn’t believe her interest in Film and Philosophy isn’t attractive for a “young elite”

“Talk less, smile more.” ( shoutout to hamilton ) a phrase she commonly heard as she always has a million thoughts running through her mind. Each one she deemed important. There was so much to the world she didn’t understand, and had yet to see. It’s what made her so passionate about exploring it through film. To insert her own philosophy and start discussions around whatever thought was plaguing her the most. But her mother wished she would just shut up and let important people feel important.

The lack of attention from her parents made her a strong people pleaser. Searching for the approval she didn’t get from home no matter how hard she tried. She’s always there to lend a helping hand no matter how late, will be the ear someone needs and offer her best advice. Believes that her loyalty and devotion will earn her the love she so often felt she didn’t receive from her parents. Aislin knows what it’s like to feel neglected and like she’s not being paid attention to and she never wants people to feel that way so she showers everyone in the love she wishes her parents will show to her.

Aislin has a mind for wonder, and an imagination that knows no bounds because she can’t do the things she watches the protagonists she writes do. It’s her only form of escape from her life and she wishes she could live freely as her protagonists do but watching them in films would have to be enough. A passion that shows through as she as three award winning short films she’s known around the film community for. Those films being: “For the Love of a Daughter”, “The Problem with a Promise”, and “The Ways in Which Footprints Lie”.

Personality:

She puts others before herself always no matter the situation. She isn’t a prideful person, so she’s typically the first to apologize whenever any sign of conflict arises even if she wasn’t the reason the conflict started.

It’s really hard for her to stand up for herself, and will usually just allow people to take advantage of her or walk all over her. She’s scared of disappointing people so she does her best to keep the peace at all times.

Aislin wishes to be selfish, and put herself first but can’t bring herself to do it. So she takes out her wishes through her works. Her protagonists are always free spirited, strong willed, and openly opinionated because she feels like she can’t be.

She romanticizes every aspect of her life, and tries to find joy in the little things. She’s quick on her feet, and performs well under pressure. Also tries her best to give everyone she meets the benefit of the doubt even if they come with their fair share of bad interactions. Even if they treat her poorly she tries to find the good in them.

Wanted Connections:

her muse. this person is someone she longs to be like. they inspire her most ambitious of characters because of how selfishly and carefree they’re able to live. she notices how they put their wants first without showing shame, and aislin tries to mimic their speech, and the way they interact with others but she always folds. she wants to be close to this person in hopes their habits will rub off on her. she’s afraid to ask how they got so assertive because she doesn’t want them to pity her or be annoyed but they’re remain a dream to her all the same.

the one that got away. it’s aislin’s fault these two didn’t work out. she couldn’t get out of her own head. they weren’t ever a couple but this muse was very sweet on her, and aislin wasn’t use to that. she was constantly thinking it was only a matter time before she disappointed them. she was hot then cold, clingy then distant and it made her feels seem like mixed signals. this muse could only take so much and eventually stopped pursuing her all together. something aislin knew was coming yet couldn’t bring herself to stop.

her comfort crowd. this could definitely be a few muses ! these people would be her group of don’t ask don’t tell. they’d have their own code, and hold each other secrets to their heart and take them to the grave. they all have access to each other’s places, know their favorite foods, and spend all night sharing secrets, reciting dreams, and being their most authentic selves. in the days that follow their stress relief they don’t speak of that night, pretending like it didn’t happen until they need another night like it again.

her midas touch. this person manages to always get her out of her comfort zone, and do things she normally wouldn’t for herself. they can see the way she struggles with doing for others and doing for herself and want them to choose herself. they sometimes get into arguments over it because no matter how many steps she takes forward she always ends right back treating others in the way she should treat herself.

her skeptic. this person thinks her treat people with kindness attitude is nothing but an act. they believe she’s working some kind of angle, whether it be within the society, her department, her inner circle, etc. they just don’t trust the way she acts. fully believing there’s more to her sweet persona than meets the eye.

#opalsintro #I tried my best to condense her bio so pls if you have any questions dont be afraid to ask !!#im once again SO EXCITED TO BE HERE

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years

Text

Hiding in Plain Sight (1)- Tom Holland X Reader

Word Count-1792

A/N: This was inspired by this wonderful post by @starsholland. Without it this would not be happening. This will be a multi part fic, but I don’t know how many chapters or when it will be posted so if you’d like to be tagged let me know:) Welcome to Tom being undercover on Tumblr. Quick notes- Y/T/B = Your Tumblr Blog, Y/A is your age :)

“You’re not going to make me go undercover on Tumblr are you?” Tom asks as they hook up the mike to his white t-shirt. “I’ve heard dangerous things about that site.”

“No, no. We’re sticking to Reddit, Twitter, Youtube. Maybe some Quora and IMDB.” The redheaded assistant sitting across from him states as she places the GQ laptop across from him. Tom sees Harrison’s shoulders silently moving up and down, laughing at the idea of him having to go undercover on the site that he had been telling horror stories of for weeks leading up to this interview. “If any of these don’t sound good to you, we can skip them.”

“No, those sound fine.” Tom says. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Camera A ready?” She asks the camera man sitting diagonally from where she is. In response she gets a nod. “Tom when you’re ready say something like I’m Tom Holland and I’m going undercover on the internet to answer your questions. It’s actually me. Something like that.”

From across the room Harrison watches as Tom flows through the questions easily, hoping from site to site with better technical luck than he normally has. He can guess that some of the answers will be giffed and blasted around social media within minutes of this interview going live. It would shock him if it didn’t.

“Check it out mate.” On his screen flashes Tom saying I drink tea darling over and over again. “Your fans love it. Which is good, seeing how upset a lot of them are over the Disney/Sony thing.”

“Where is this?”

“Your favorite site.”

“Instagram?”

“Tumblr.” Tom rolls his eyes and falls back into the couch.

“Why are you even on there?”

“Why aren’t you? So many fangirls, so little time.” Tom shoots a dirty look at Harrison. “But in all seriousness, there’s a lot of great reactions and gifs that you can only find on Tumblr. You should check it out.” Tom reaches for Harrison’s computer but he pulls away. “Make your own account. It costs nothing.”

“Ugh, fine.” Pulling his phone out of his pocket, downloads the app and creates an account. Expecting one of the fangirls to have already have taken his common username, he’s surprised to be able to fill out the form with tomholland2013 as his username. Will that seem too much like him? Who knows. It’s not like he’s planning to actually use this site. He just using it to see what Harrison wants him to see. “What do I look up?”

“Just search the hashtag Tom Holland and look under recent for the most recent stuff. Most of it is your undercover interview. Or you can look under the Tom Holland top posts and see what your fans are obsessed with.” Tom is on the main page and sees a suggestion of blogs. A lot of them have his name intertwined in them with his picture as the profile picture. Guess it wouldn’t hurt to follow some blogs while he’s on here?

The first one he follows is @starsholland who seems to write fanfictions about him but also shares a lot of marvel pictures. By clicking follow it brings up a lot of suggested blogs to follow. He clicks on @tonguetiedholland and sees another fanfiction writer but also a lot of posts between them and other bloggers. “Is this site just fanfiction?”

“No, there’s pictures and edits and stuff too. Why? You only interested in the fanfiction?”

“I only seem to find fanfictions.” Tom replies as he clicks on a blog called @tomhollandsstan, finding a mix of fanfictions, pictures and conversations. However his eyes scroll through one of the fics and find something much more raunchy than he anticipated finding. “Holy hell. What are they writing all of this about?”

“Reading something steamy Tommy?” Harrison teases. Tom feels his face flush with the embarrassment of knowing that there are girls and guys out there picturing stuff like this with him as the main feature.

“I’m getting off this site. It’s bloody porn.”

“No wait, you’ve just stumbled down the wrong path. Let me send you some blogs to look at.” Harrison pulls up some of the ones that are mostly pictures and reactions. “What’s your tumblr handle? I’ll send them to you?”

“Tomholland2013.”

“Really? It wasn’t taken?”

“Nope.”

“See how long it stays secretive.”

“I don’t plan on using it.” Tom says as he hits follow on some of the other blogs that Harrison sent him, including one that was @Y/T/B. He found himself scrolling through it a little more in depth than he had with any of the other pages he had been on. The posts and your reactions were more what he expected of tumblr. Glee filled, but not thirsty. Hitting follow was a no brainer.

Across the country, your phone lights up as you get a notification from Tumblr. You’re about to swipe it away, since your day is currently going down hill as the recipes you’re in the middle of trying out are turning into pinterest fails. Also you should have checked before you started baking a cake that you had powdered sugar to make frosting, so you’ll have to do another pinterest deep dive for a frosting recipe since you can’t use your tried and true recipe.

However, the name on the notification catches your eye- Tomholland2013 has followed you. Wow someone finally snatched the name. There had been jokes around the fandom for months that someone should snag the name so Tom could have it whenever or if-ever he decided to join tumblr. But it seems someone has decided to be Tom. Whoever it is though seems to enjoy your posts because they’re liking your posts in succession. While your stand mixer whirls, you open to their blog and see there’s nothing there. Not even a banner or an icon photo. They must be a super new blog. You back out of their blog and almost back out of the app when you see a message from this Tom Holland wanna be.

From: Tomholland2013

I really like all your edits of Tom. Can I use one as my profile pic? X

You pause for a second before replying. This person wasn’t the first to ask to use one of your edits as a profile picture. Why does this feel different though? It has to just be because of the name. You click to reply to the ask.

I’m so surprised someone finally took the name. Me and @imanativeofswlondondahling had a bet going on for how long it was going to stay open in case Tom wanted it. Anyway, feel free to use my edits, or if you have a favorite picture of Tom, send it my way and I’ll make an edit for you.

You hit send on the ask before you can change your mind and then you turn back to your cake- which has probably been overwhipped now.

“Do I have a favorite picture of Tom?” Tom mumbles to himself as he reads over your reply. He’d love to see something that was made for him, but that means finding a picture of himself that he wants edited. “Harrison, com’ere mate. Take a selfie with me.”

“What’s this for?” Harrison asks before posing. @Y/T/B wouldn’t know this was just a selfie. You’d probably think he just did a Google deep dive.

“Need a profile picture. For my blog.” Tom teases, before clicking back to his messages on tumblr. There has to be a way to send a direct message instead of an ask like he did before. He had been planning to use an edit you had done of him saying I drink tea darling, but he wasn’t going to toss up having a custom made icon. After fiddling around on the app for a few minutes Tom finally figures out how to send a message and sends the picture he had snapped with Harrison a few minutes earlier. He tacks on a quick message asking her to do whatever she wants with the picture and to take as long as she wants and or needs. After hitting send, he clicks back to your blog's main page, trying to learn more about you.

At the top of your page, simply stated, it reads Y/N, Y/A, Tom Holland Fan. Well that does tell him you’re around his age, so that makes him feel less like a creeper. He wants to know everything he can about you, but all he can find through scrolling is mainly, well him. He can’t explain why, but there’s a sort of pull towards you from what he can find in your messages to other people and responding to anon messages, you seem like someone he’d want to be friends with. You have a great sense of humor and make jokes as often as you can in your messages.

“Haz, can I turn on notifications for, like a certain blog?” Tom calls across the living room.

“Thought you weren’t going to use it.”

“There’s a couple blogs I like.”

“Sure, let me show you.” Tom passes his phone over and watches as Harrison turns on notifications for your blog. “Oh she’s great. Her reactions when news is posted is great.” A notification pops up on your screen. “Apparently she just posted.”

A cake maker I am not destined to be. Gordon Ramsay will make an idiot sandwich out of me.

A picture of a very sad looking cake appears under her text. “Maybe she should stick to making edits.” Harrison jokes.

“Mate, that’s rude.”

“But it’s not wrong. Plus it’s not like yours would look much better.”

“Mine would be worse.” Taking his phone back, he clicks on the comment bubble and types out: looks better than anything I would make X His inbox dings a couple moments later.

How have I never seen this photo of Harrison and Tom? Did it get posted while I was attempting to bake?

I think it’s an old photo. Found it on my phone. X And technically that’s not a lie.

Well I’ll hop on that edit. Any colors you prefer?

Blue or Red would be good I guess. X

I’ll get right on that. What’s with all the x’s?

Oh it’s a European thing. It’s just how we sign off texts and messagesX

If it’s annoying I can try and not do it?X

It’s fine. Just didn’t know why it was there.

Do you think Tom does it?

Oh most definitely. What kind of Brit would he be if he didn’t?X

Well I’ll go get on the edit, hopefully I’ll have it done in the next day or so

No hurryX

Thanks againX

#Tom holland #tom holland tumblr #tom holland undercover #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #harrison osterfield #imanativeofswlondondahling #starsholland #tonguetiedholland #tomhollandsstan

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berrynarrybanana · 4 years

Text

the gala - honeybee

A/N: I sat down today and wrote out everything I wanted to happen between Harry and Honeybee(A.K.A Beatrice). I was going to do this chapter by chapter, but I have honestly never been good at that kind of thing. I was doing a Met Gala section of Bea and Harry’s life and I started thinking about the meeting that would happen before where they discussed it and then I started thinking about fucking Harry in an office and it was great. I do want to put out a disclaimer that this is a self-serving fic and even though I have given her a name, I base her off of me and what I want in life, so yeah. Also I don’t personally know any of the people I have just written about and I get my knowledge from extensive google searches like everyone else. Please enjoy this first published piece of Honeybee and let me know what you think! Love you all lots!

for visual people, I’m making a pinterest board for these two, but I imagine honeybee’s outfit (the shirt wouldn’t be tied, it would be tucked) and body type to be a bit like this, but imagine her however you feel!

p.s I love getting messages and questions so don’t be afraid to come chat with me, I would really love it!

“Beatrice,” Georgia walked into my office with a wide smile. “Anna would like to see you.”

“Oh, okay.” I said, glancing at my computer screen. “I just have to finish this edit really quick and then-”

“She said right away, it’s very important.” Georgia’s eyes lit up as she spoke. “I’ll finish the read, just head on out.”

“Thanks, G.” I said slowly, standing up from behind my desk with furrowed brows.

What the hell was in the air today and why was everyone acting so weird?

I grabbed my phone, my notepad, and my coffee cup as Georgia came around my desk, sitting in my seat as I walked out. I headed in the direction of Anna’s office with my head held high. There was a lot of chatter going on around me and it left me anxious and confused. I looked down at my shirt, making sure there were no spills or rips. My outfit was fine and I had checked my makeup in the bathroom earlier. When I walked past reception and into Anna’s wing of the office, I suddenly realized why everyone was freaking out. Jeff was sitting outside of Anna’s office on his phone.

“Jeffrey?” I tilted my head, confused. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s top secret.” He looked up from his phone, standing up with open arms. “It’s weird seeing you this dressed up. I’m used to band shirts and sweatpants.”

“Sweatpants is a forbidden word inside the walls of this office, Jeff.” I teased. “Don’t let anyone know I own a pair.”

“Beatrice, darling!” Anna opened her office door with a wide smile. “Come in, come in the both of you.”

“Hi, Anna.” I smiled at her walking into her office.

My eyes immediately fell on Harry and Alessandro Michele sitting at Anna’s boardroom table. Harry looked stunning in his bright yellow shirt and black jeans. I loved yellow on him. I could never pull it off, but he did it so well. He shot me a smile as Alessandro continued to whisper next to him, his eyes still trained on me. I walked over to the table, taking the seat across from Harry. When I set my things down on the table, Anna and Jeffrey joined us. I looked over at Jeff and then to Anna with furrowed brows. I had no idea what the hell was going on in this room.

“So I’ve just had a conversation with these lovely creatures,” Anna pointed to Harry and Alessandro. “They’ve agreed to be host and co-host of the Met Gala this year.”

“Really?” I looked at Harry, a smile tugging at my lips as he nodded, reaching up to fiddle with his lower lip nervously. Seconds later, I felt a foot nudge mine. Harry shot me a wink. “That’s amazing!”

“The theme is camp.” Anna said.

“Wonderful,” I nodded, opening my notepad to write that down. “What date are we going with?”

“May 6th,” She said. “The Met is dealing with the catering and everything else, but these two gentleman and yourself will be working on press releases, invitations, and guest lists.”

“Okay,” I nodded, looking back at Anna. “The lead interviewer for the carpet, have you picked one?”

“You.” She smiled.

“Me?” I dropped my pen, looking at her with wide eyes. “You want me to do...for the Met Gala?”

“That is correct.” She laughed. “I think it would be perfect for you. It’s great exposure, you get to spend some time with your beau, and you’ll have the time of your life. You deserve it, Beatrice. You’ve worked very hard over the last few months and I’m very proud of you.”

“Anna,” My eyes started to water as I looked at her. “Thank you so much.”

“Now, with that being said,” Anna looked towards Alessandro and then back at me with a grin. “You’ll be wearing Gucci on the carpet.”

“That’s so cool,” I looked at Harry. “And what will you be wearing?”

“Probably a paper bag compared to what you’ll be wearing.” Harry teased. “I’ll be in Gucci as well.”

“Awesome.” I whispered, trying to process the information being spouted at me. I had never worn anything designer. Well, there were times that I had stolen Harry’ s clothes, but that didn’t really count.

“Now, Beatrice, I expect a weekly report of what is happening with Harry and Alessandro. Because you spend so much time with our lovely co-host, it will be easier for you to get information and answers.” Anna said. “He will stay in touch with Alessandro.”

“Alright.” I nodded.

“Wonderful!” Anna clapped her hands once before standing up. “Now, I’m sure Harry and Alessandro have a busy day ahead, but I’m stealing Alessandro for a few hours to discuss business further. You two run off for an early lunch.”

“Are you sure, Anna?” I asked, looking back at Harry. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of me for the entire meeting and it had me fidgeting in my seat.

“Positive,” She nodded, looking at Harry. “Thank you for visiting my dear, take care of our girl and treat her to a nice lunch.”

Harry stood up, hugging Anna.

“I will.” He kissed her cheek. “Don’t work too hard now, Anna. And don’t be mad if I return her late.”

“I won’t.” She laughed.

Jeffrey was out of the office before Harry and I.

When Harry shut the door to Anna’s office, he tapped my lower back and leaned down to kiss my lips quickly.

“Hi.” He said softly.

“Hi.” I giggled.

“I’m going to the apartment,” Jeff said as his phone began to buzz again. “We have a thing at four, Harry, don’t forget.”

“I won’t.” He rolled his eyes as Jeff started to walk away. “Alright, show me your new fancy office.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming to the city.” I said, walking next to him as we headed towards my office. “I would have picked you up from the airport.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” He shrugged. “So how do you feel?”

“About the Met?” I asked, looking up at him. “I feel...honestly, it’s a little weird to me.”

“Why?” He furrowed his brows.

“Because I have a feeling the offer was a little biased.” I said softly, frowning as Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes at me. “What? You have to admit-”

“That Alessandro suggested you do it because he enjoys your work,” Harry said, his voice hushed as his brows lifted towards his hairline. “I didn’t know he was going to do it until we got in the meeting. He just blurted it out and Anna agreed that you were the right fit. You’re young, you understand the new wave of celebrities, and you have the right look.”

“Sorry,” I said softly. “I didn’t mean to imply that was your doing, I meant it more from Anna’s side. She’s obsessed with our relationship these days and it makes me a little paranoid.”

“She’s obsessed with you, Honeybee.” Harry stopped in his tracks, turning to look at me. “She said in that meeting that you remind her of the greats. Audrey, Grace, Marilyn, hell even Stevie! You’re classic, but you’re not afraid to push the boundaries. You are what camp is in her eyes.”

“She said that?” I smiled, my cheeks getting warm at the compliments he was throwing my way. I wasn’t used to be talked about so highly.

“Honest.” His lips twitched, a smirk pulling at his lips. “I agree, of course.”

“I think you’re the definition of camp, that’s for sure.” I reached up with my free hand to brush my thumb over his chin. “You’re super extra.”

“We’re the perfect camp couple,” He laughed. “Now, where is your office? I want to kiss you without everyone watching.”

“Right here, actually,” I nodded my head to the door just next to us. “Before you pounce, Georgia was in here a minute ago. Let me check for her before you push me against a wall.”

“Hurry up.” He grumbled. “I’ve been in the same building as you for an hour and I haven’t kissed you yet.”

“An hour?” I asked. “You were here for an entire hour and I didn’t know?”

“I turned life360 off.” He chuckled as I opened my door.

Georgia wasn’t in my office and Harry caught on. His hands grabbed my hips and he pushed me into the room gently, shutting the door with his foot as his lips found the skin of my neck. I rolled my eyes, putting my cup, my phone, and my notepad down at the table by my office door. I had a feeling my desk was about to be used for very inappropriate kisses. I heard the lock click behind me as Harry pulled me against his chest with one hand. I giggled when he slipped his hands down to the button of my jeans. He continued to kiss my neck, his stubble tickling my skin as he did. When he unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, I let out a soft sigh, leaning back into his chest. Being in his arms felt like being home and it was a feeling I would never get used to.

“Darling,” I said softly. “This is a bodysuit, not a normal shirt.”

“But it’s a button up.” He said softly, lifting his head up as his hands turned me around.

“I know, it’s a new piece Anna wanted me to try.” I chuckled, brushing my hands over his shoulders as his lips puckered out in confusion. “Just, take my pants off and pop the button.”

“Oh, I intend on popping the button real good.” He lowered his lips to mine, giggling into the kiss as I groaned at his horrible joke. “That was funny, laugh at me.”

“I’m laughing at you, don’t worry.” I snorted as Harry’s hands gripped the flesh on my hips through my jeans. “Always laughing at my funny man.”

It took him a few seconds to tug them down over my thighs, the waistband catching at my knees. In a few seconds, I was on the edge of my desk and Harry was down on his knees in front of me. He found the buttons of the bodysuit, tugging them apart to see one of his favorite pair of panties covering his favorite part of my body. He groaned, swiping the fabric to the side before he connected his lips to my clit in a quick and harsh suck. I gasped, dropping one hand to my desk to steady myself and the other to the messy hair on his head, tugging at the soft strands. At the same time his tongue slipped out, licking up my entrance, a knock on the door startled me. I looked down at Harry, his eyes trained on mine as I took a deep breath before answering.

“Yes?” Harry’s lips closed around my clit, his fingers slipping up my legs until they found my now wet core. He slipped two into me and I lifted my hand to cover my mouth, a moan escaping my lips as he laughed against me. “Who is it?”

“It’s just Georgia!” I bit my knuckles as Harry started to pump his fingers in and out, his eyes locked on mine as tears started to pool at my waterline. Everything felt so fuckin good. “Ben and David need your help in layout.”

“I’m taking an early… an early lunch, Georgia!” I tossed my head back, mumbling a curse under my breath as Harry sucked my clit back into his mouth. “Tell them to give me ten minutes and I’ll stop in to look at it before I go.”

“Okay.” Georgia chirped from the other side.

Harry pulled his mouth away from my center, looking up at me with a wet smile. I brushed my fingers through the hair at the front of his head as he continued massage my walls with his fingers. Licking over my bottom lip, I tried not to launch myself down on the floor with him to taste myself on his lips. He added a third finger, my breath catching in my throat as he pushed deeper.

“Ten minutes?” He cocked a brow, tilting his head. “You think you can finish that quick?”

“You know I can.” I whispered, my eyes fluttering as he stood up, his fingers still lodged in me as he pressed his lips to mine. “Take your pants off, now.”

“I’m in charge-”

“No today.” I shook my head, dropping my hands to his jeans. “This is my office. I’m the one in charge here, Mr. Styles.”

“Fuck.” He chuckled, looking down at my hands as I popped the button on his jeans, tugging the zipper down.

I hooked my fingers in the waistband of his pants as he watched, lowering them down to reveal his naked thighs and his half hard cock. The smug bastard knew that I was going to fuck him the second I got him alone. He knew that it would be in my office. He probably planned the entire thing just so that it would unravel that way. I may have thought I was in charge a few minutes ago, but he had all the control. I was wrapped around his finger and he fucking knew it. I reached for his half hard cock, guiding him towards me with the hand pressed into his lovehandles. He dropped his hands to my shoulders as I lowered my head. With my eyes cast up on his, I watched him pant as I lowered my lips down. With a soft kiss on the raspberry tip of his cock, I had him. I stuck my tongue out, letting him guide his hips forward until my mouth was closed around his shaft towards the middle. I let my tongue play at the veins of his shaft as Harry’s fingertips dug harder into my shoulder blades. There were a few knots from stress and winced a little at the pressure, but I didn’t care about myself. I wanted him to feel as good as I did a minute ago.

“You have on lipstick.” Harry let out a sigh as he dropped his head back, closing his eyes. “Fuck, you’re trying to kill me Honeybee”

I knew I was wearing his favorite lipstick. It was a cream based lipstick, not a long lasting matte one that stuck to my lips even in our dirtiest moment. I was going to stain the skin of his cock with the deep shade of berry red he loved so much on me. The thought of leaving my mark on him fueled the fire deep in the pit of my belly, causing me to squeeze my thighs together. Normally Harry’s fingers were pulling at the roots of my hair, holding my head steady as he moved his hips for me. Today, I had decided to tie my hair up in a ponytail, leaving him no choice but to hold onto my shoulders. I glanced up at him as he moaned, his chest rumbling as he rolled his head forward to make eye contact with me. My lips were wrapped around his tip, suckilng his head softly as I placed my hand on his shaft. He reached down, gripping my chin before softly pushing me off.

“I’m ready.” His eyes grew darker as he looked at my fucked up lipstick, shades of it staining his cock just like I imagined. My chest was heaving as I smiled at him. “Lean back a little an’ shift your bum up to the edge of the desk.”

I followed his instructions, no longer caring who was in charge of the situation. All I wanted was to feel him deep inside of me. He hunched his shoulders, tugging at his cock a few times before lining up with my entrance. I tossed my arms over his shoulders, threading my hands through the hair at the nape of his neck as he sunk into me with a groan. He slipped his arms around me, hugging me close to his body as he tucked his nose into my shoulder. I was biting the inside of my cheek so hard, my eyes closing as I tried to keep quiet. My fingers started to tug at the roots of his hair as he began to thrust in and out of me. His hips were moving so fast that I could feel the desk shifting under me. I couldn’t find it in me to care as I pushed my jeans further down my legs, my heels falling off before I got my jeans over my heels. They dropped to the floor and I tossed my legs over Harry’s calves, laying back on my desk. He went with me, dropping his hands on the flat of my desk as his stomach pressed to mine. He lifted his head from my shoulder, brushing his lips over mine a few times before giving me a searing hot kiss, his tongue tangling with mine before he pulled away, gasping for air as he looked into my eyes, his brows pulled together in pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum,” He whispered against my lips, slipping a hand between our bodies to circle my clit. “Are you close, honeybee?”

“Keep touching… just like that.” I gasped out, my jaw dropping a little as he hit that spot inside me that only he could touch. “Fuck me harder, please. Give it to me, darling.”

“Shit.”

Harry glanced between us, looking down at his hips moved in sloppy, harsh thrusts. I could feel my body get tense, preparing to unravel the second he got me to my high. It was on the tip of my tongue, my lips parted as I panted, trying to control the moans that wanted to escape my throat.

“Kiss me, darling.” I tugged at his hair, grabbing his attention as I started to feel my release creeping through my body. “Please, Harry.”

“Fuck, Bea.” He smeared his lips against mine, releasing into me just seconds before my own orgasm took over, milking his cock. I cried into his mouth as his hips continued to press into me in sloppy, desperate thrusts. “Feel so good, I can’t… oh my god, Bea.”

“I love you,” I whispered, a tear falling out of the corner of my eye as he dropped his forehead to mine, our breath mingling together.

After a few moments of soft kisses, giggles, and trying to catch our breath. Harry slipped out of me, standing up straight. I groaned, sitting up on my desk with an ache in my back as Harry pulled his jeans up over my hips. I reached up to brush my fingers over my cheekbones, collecting the few tears that had fallen on my skin from the pleasure I was given just minutes ago. Harry smiled down at me, shaking his head as he looked at me. I narrowed my brows at him, confused by his amusement. He lifted his hand, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip.

“You look wrecked.” He bit his lower lip, trying not to laugh. “Honeybee, we have to fix you up.”

“Worth it.” I smiled, hopping off my desk on wobbly legs. “Absolutely worth it.”

#harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry smut #harry fic #harry fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #honeybee #don't hate me #please like this #and let me know what you think #my writing

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