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saintgoths · 2 years

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ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀꜱᴏɴɢ

POSSESSIVE!JOEL X SIREN!READER - WATERSONG.

[PART FIVE TO THE SIREN SERIES].

WORD COUNT - 4,020.

RATING - G+. [mentions of sex, canon typical violence and angst].

SUMMARY - an emergency shift causes the patrol group to clear-out a large number of infected outside of jackson, unaware of how vast the number was going to be, causes a last minute escape that makes people in the group separated and you stuck in the middle of no where with joel, leaving only the both of yours pent up sadness and heartbreak to explode.

if you want to join a the last of us/joel miller discord here you go! 𓆩♡𓆪

feedback would be appreciated! +what do you think of shiloh?

“I think you would like Shiloh,” you contently smiled from the open kitchen, Ellie had currently been in the living room while you had made snacks for the movie you two were about to watch, Ellie had insisted that the both of you should watch Aquamarine due to Cat’s taste in mermaid/siren movies, you had found it cute that Ellie had taken interests of things her girlfriend had liked but you had hoped that Ellie wouldn’t lose a part of herself for the relationship. She was a girl who was interested in action and planet movies, you had an idea to look for a movie that at least had one of those themes.

Uninterested, Ellie had shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t think I would.”

Dramatically, you had pouted at Ellie’s response, during the moment you dragged yourself to the sofa Ellie had sat on, you had slumped the main snack bowl against her lap, Ellie wasn’t someone who ate much, but whenever she was around you, she’d eat an entire horse, mostly to satisfy you, purely because you had noticed the lack of refreshments she would take in, and it upset you. Plus, Ellie didn’t want you to nag her, yet, she had found the snacks you would usually make for her tasty.

“He’s interested in the things you are,” you commented, “he draws and he paints,” you gradually listed, “he draws and paints me every time, after this I’d show you some of the pieces, he’s made of me you’d love it.”

Yet, you’d have to be careful of the pieces you’d show Ellie, aside from some of the Siren art he has made of you, Shiloh had imperceptibly created pieces of you where you had been naked, there had even been a piece where you had your legs wide open and his face between your legs, your cheeks had steadily flustered at the piece of memory. Being with Shiloh was an adventure, it had been two weeks since you two had been together and during those two weeks the both of you had been having endless of sex.

No matter how much Ellie was intrigued by the piece of information, she restricted herself by being bought into Shiloh’s charms and skills. “Joel has been miserable without you.”

Promptly, it was your turn to shrug your shoulders, “it was Joel who broke up with me not the other way round.” Your voice was strong and forward, and Ellie had noticed the bitter look you had on your face during the moment you had turned on the movie, your lips were pressed into a thin line and the hiemal and aloof expression you had on your face had made the young girl inquisitive to what had happened between the two of you.

“Why did you two break up?” Ellie asked, her voice hadn’t been curious but you could tell that she was dying to know.

“There were just some differences,” you replied, your answer short and curt and evidently not enough for the younger girl.

“I feel like you guys are hiding something from me, like there’s something else,” Ellie pleaded, she couldn’t keep her faux uncurious look on her face any longer, Joel had been the same, he was vague about the reason the two of you had broken up and it had drove Ellie insane. She had hated secrets, and currently Ellie had felt like a child between a parent’s petty divorce.

Once more, you had bumped your shoulders, your eyes had been glued to the screen, hopeful that she would drop the subject. “The other information isn’t important.”

Annoyed, Ellie sat up, she was quick to reach for the controller, and once she got her hands on it, she studiously paused the movie. “I deserve to know,” her voice had turned less whiny and had transformed into a tone of strength, you had moved your eyes away from the paused screen and looked at her, your cold eyes slightly melted at Ellie’s upset demeanour. “I deserve to know because I’m used to having the both of you around at the same time.”

“And now I can only be with one of you at a time, and I hate the change.”

Dismal, you had sadly smiled at her argument. “It’s the beginning, so things will be awkward and not go in ways you’d want, but I promise you, it’ll get better,” and after that, you retrieved the controller from the auburn-haired girl to resume the film but Ellie hadn’t been done with her part of the argument.

“It’s been two months.”

Slightly annoyed, you had dropped your shoulders, you had sometimes hated how Ellie could be so adamant as a mule, but there would be moments where you had loved and admired it. “Ellie, I love you, and because I love you so much, there’s going to be some information I’ll have to hold back because I love you.”

Rudely, Ellie had scoffed and covered the both of her hands, hopeless. Clearly, she hadn’t understood your approach but she had assumed that you weren’t going to tell her what she had wanted to know. The truth. “I’ll tell you when you’re older,” you smiled, you had jokingly nudged Ellie who had childishly pouted at what you had just said, but then, you had reached for her hand and pressed her small hand against your lips. “Ellie, do you love me?”

“I do.”

“Then you should understand where I’m coming from, there’s probably some secrets you would never tell me.”

Weakly, Ellie had gleamed, you were right, Joel had made Ellie promise to not tell anyone about her immune bite, she had assumed Joel had also made sure that you were a part of the “anyone”.

“Do you now understand where I’m coming from?” You asked and while Ellie gently pulled her hand away from your clasp, she slowly beckoned her head.

Happy, you had pulled Ellie into an embrace, it hadn’t been a surprise when Ellie jokingly fought you off and the moment you two were ready to watch the movie, the young girl leaned against your body, slightly in crave for the motherly warmth you emitted. “So, will you come to the dinner Shiloh will be at tomorrow?” You had comically fluttered your eyes which caused Ellie to stick her tongue out in disapproval, but the younger female had eventually given in and had agreed that she would attend next day’s dinner.

You had presently completed your weekly trading; people normally came to exchange with you because of the variety of fishes you had and you weren’t really picky or definite about the type of things people would give to you. Aside from eating the chum, people commonly came to you because they wanted fish pets for themselves or for their kids.

It had been early within the day and most people were working within their shifts, you had looked at your small watch and had noted that during this hour was one of the first breaks Shiloh had from his hospital shift, you had recorded that he had already made his way towards you and the second his body was close to your figure, the both of you had brought each other into a kind kiss.

The juncture Shiloh had pulled himself to you, there was a message in his eyes that told you he had something to say. Your eyebrows furrowed as your head had immediately flooded with overwhelming words, perhaps he couldn’t come to the dinner today and Alex had him doing longer shifts, you wouldn’t be surprised if Alex did that, Shiloh had quickly showed that he was an excellent staff member, he was needed.

“There’s an emergency patrol shift,” Shiloh candidly explained, “it’s the same patrol group we were in before, you need to get ready now.”

Irritated you had tucked in your lips, Shiloh briskly apologised to you, he was just informed of this now, if he had known before, he would have told you, but whenever Maria wanted something to happen, it had to come to pass. “We were supposed to have dinner together, Ellie agreed to come as well.”

Hesitant, Shiloh placed his hand against your left shoulder, his gaze sorry. “I’m sorry baby, but Joel and Maria came to terms for it to be now, go home, get your things and come to the gates, everyone else is waiting for you.”

In response, you dramatically huffed ere you peeled yourself from Shiloh’s grip, you carried yourself home to obey his orders. You were quick to pack your things, you had mainly focused on Joel, and on how he had en masse wanted the shift to happen now, you had speculated if Ellie informed Joel of the dinner the three of you were to share today and he used the emergency shift to block the small event, nevertheless, you had tried to push the thought in the back of your mind. Joel wouldn’t have done that, would he?

You had gently cursed in your mind, you had assumed many conclusions that all involved Joel’s intervention to stop the dinner from happening, mayhap your subconscious wanted you to feel that Joel still cared in a way. Still, it was no good thinking that way, the two of you were over and that was final.

It didn’t take long for you to catch up with the rest of the squad, Shiloh had kindly prepared your horse for you, last time, the group didn’t have their horses and Gabriel thought that this time having mares would aid in any abrupt situation. You were given a horse within your third week in Jackson, it was Gabriel that had given the stallion to you, and he informed you that the horse’s name was Mira, which had meant of the Ocean, the name had originated from Sanskrit and the moment he had told you what the name meant you fell in love with her.

Gabriel had informed the squad that a duo who patrolled before had mentioned that there was a large group of infected that had to be cleared out. Of course, the two of them alone couldn’t do it so the best they could do was return to Jackson and warn the leaders.

“Apparently, this might take more than three days,” Shiloh muttered, you had been between Shiloh and Bella, you three were seen as Jackson’s tightest trio or loudest with how terrible the three of you could get when drunk. “The town getting sick for a week probably caused this to happen, no one available to do their shifts so the numbers of infected multiplied.”

You had observed Shiloh wasn’t in the front with Joel and Gabriel; Shiloh had his reasons to be at the back with you and Bella. The first reason was him wanting to look after you considering how you almost died during the previous patrol shift, even though you are someone who could heal faster than everyone else, you weren’t invincible. Yet, the second reason had included Joel, not chiefly because Joel was your ex, it was because Joel had displayed Shiloh a more standoffish and menacing persona of his.

Joel had found out about the secret nights you would share with Ellie, after the fatherly rounds of questioning, the girl had eventually given up and told Joel that every week she’d come over to your home. He wasn’t unhappy about that, nevertheless, the girl had blabbered on about a dinner she was supposed to attend that included both you and Shiloh, and that’s what got Joel upset. First, Shiloh would take you and now he was planning to take Ellie? Joel didn’t mention how he did not want the dinner to happen, and he tried his best to hide the grimace that had wanted to rip his face, the moment Maria informed him of the emergency patrol, the man was happy enough to make sure the clear out happened today, the day of the dinner.

“I don’t think it was a good idea to come with horses,” Bella muttered, she wasn’t that much of a fan of horses but she tried her best to bond with the horse that was given to her.

Compared to you, you had liked horses, along with Shiloh; aside from creating portraits of you, Shiloh liked drawing animals, and since horses were the usual faunas that were seen, he had numerous sketches and paintings of them. “I think it’ll get everything done quicker,” you responded, and calmly, Bella fixed into your comment and stared straight ahead of her.

“How was life before moving to Jackson?” Bella inquired, even though the two of you were close and had shared private information with each other, the red lipped woman had been barely familiar with your history.

You had wondered what had caused Bella to ask now, mayhap it was to kill time since the patrol would take more than a day if Shiloh was correct. “I was travelling most of the time,” you shortly replied in attempt to keep it as vague as possible, during this era, it was odd for someone to travel around America in relations of the infected.

“What brought you to Jackson?”

Slowly you twisted your face towards her, you had wanted to tell Bella so badly that it was because of Joel and Ellie, still, mainly Joel. Silent, you had returned your gaze straight ahead, during the movement, your eyes shyly trailed over the figure of Joel whose back posture sat tall on his horse, Old Beardy, timidly, you had tucked the bottom of your lips behind your teeth, aware that both Shiloh and Bella watched your restrained movements.

“Did you know Joel before you came here?”

It was Shiloh who had asked that, and without turning to face him you had gestured your head. “Yes,” you politely responded, silently apprehensive your hands were tight around the reigns that were strapped around the horse you were on top of. “But don’t worry,” you forcefully smiled, you had quickly washed the inarticulate and jittery feeling that had initiated to build up in your body. “I’m with you now Shiloh.”

Comically, Bella clicked her tongue. “Don’t start being insecure now,” Bella teasingly catered, if she could annoyingly poke Shiloh’s skin, she would, but you had been sandwiched between the two of them, thus Bella couldn’t. In response, Shiloh rolled his eyes to Bella’s teasing and continued on riding his horse along with the group.

As thirty-minutes passed the patrol group had arrived to where the duo who had previously appeared in their shift commented about how this place had much infected that had to be cleared out. Everyone had noticed that there had been shops that had been barely touched, so Gabriel had instructed everyone to get off their horses and begin to look for supplies.

“Be careful!” He carefully asserted as he openly waved his hands to signal everyone to spread out and search for items, and so people were quick to submit to his orders; you had been beside Bella, the two of you too focused on finding rations to speak, but there had been some silent conversation, where you or the other would nudge and point in directions that might have supplies.

Plus, the two of you had to be extra careful if this place had as much as infected the duo implied of. Howbeit, you had believed that the partners that had been here in their previous shift were telling the truth. Whenever a place had a plethora of items, it was usually because there were dozens of undead creatures, hiding and waiting to leap at you within the perfect moment.

Responsively, the short moment of you picking up rations had been a success and you were sure you were going to have stuff aside from fishes to trade when you got back to Jackson. Even if your fish trading was a success you wanted to add something new to your business. When the both of you were assured, you had enough rations to supply till the end of the month or even have rations that could to last for two, the both of you and Bella beckoned your heads at each other to signal that it was right to leave the place.

As the two of you with conviction left the store, a loud slam had startled and jittered the both of you, truthfully, the two of you weren’t spooked because of the loud noise, it was veritably because of the outcome the loud noise had created. The dozens of screeching and scratchy moans that had emitted down the area becoming louder each second.

“Fuck, someone must’ve closed a door recklessly,” you rigidly muttered, your sharp eyes keen enough to see the large horde of infected race towards the sound. Briskly, both you and Bella pulled out your guns, prepared to mow down the infected with the rest of the patrol group.

The group had gathered together, bullets and pistols jumping and bouncing out of the artillery to strike down as much as infected as possible. “I didn’t know there’d be this much!” Gabriel crazily yelled, his voice booming through the crossfire, he had turned to the people and aggressively instructed everyone to go back to their horses and get ready to aim from their mares.

Quickly, people hurried back to their horses and obeyed Gabriel’s command, from the top of their stallions, people were abrupt and agile to shoot down the monsters that had hungrily paced towards them. Luckily, people had mowed down a good number of infected, but it wasn’t enough for them to remain in the same place and shoot, the people had to run and without second thought you had turned your horse and paced it down to the safest place; the echo of another horse followed you down the forest you and your horse entered, but your mind was too focused on survival to look behind to check who it was.

Withal, the second you were sure you had reached a safe place you had gently urged Mira to slow down and stop. You didn’t know how long you had been on top of Mira, but you had to make sure that your horse could relax, along with the person behind you.

As you turned around, your eyes examined the person who paired themselves with you, Joel. You hadn’t said anything to him, you didn’t want to, this wasn’t the time to complain so all you did was turn your body so the back of your head could face him and so you could drown your mind to focus on surviving the night.

You were a Siren, so you had the ability to not get as tired or as hungry as quickly compared to humans, you had the skill to continue the quest of returning back to Jackson, but for now, Joel couldn’t. The forest you and Joel had found yourselves in was vast, Joel had still been tired and he wished he could joke about how he was turning into an old man so you could reassure him like you would before, but there was a look on your face that made him hesitant to speak, perhaps it was his inner self calling him a coward, he had thought he had always been a coward, especially with how frightened he was when he found out what you actually were.

You had avoided his look, but you could feel the way his eyes burnt into your skin.

“What are your plans after this?”

He had finally broken the silence; the silence had been so awkward that you had wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. Even though you had been bitter that it was Joel who paired himself with you, there was an itch in your soul that was actually glad you were with him.

In response, you had scoffed, you didn’t say anything but had targeted your eyes towards the ground, you had currently rested your back against one of the trees, your legs pressed against your chest and your backpack laid lazy beside you.

“Right, sorry,” he whispered, and as kickback you had looked further away from him. “How’s your relationship with Shiloh?”

“My relationship with Shiloh doesn’t concern you,” you brutally answered, his audacity to inquire your relationship with Shiloh, had sparked an anger inside of you, briskly, you eventually turned to look at him, your eyes sharp and narrow. “You’re such a dick,” you spat.

“You’re right.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“You’re right.”

Frustrated you had brought your hands to your eyes, balked to why he didn’t feel as intense as you, however, that was thing about being a Siren, you might take time to get tired or hungry, but when it came to emotions, they came quick and you felt them, fiercely. “I hate you.”

“You’re lying.”

Angrily, you rolled your eyes, as you had wiped your waterworks to get rid of your bitter but heartbroken tears, you once again turned away from him.

“I was scared,” Joel truthfully spoke, “I was shocked to learn what you were and I couldn’t control my emotions.”

“How was I supposed to react? Learning that my lover was half fish?”

By the tone of his voice, you could tell it wasn’t a rhetorical question, Joel had candidly wanted to know your answer. “I’m not your lover,” you responded, your tone harsh and brutal.

“If I could turn back time and change the way I had reacted I would,” Joel candidly responded, “but I can’t. But if you just give me the chance to make it up to you, I would.”

“You don’t need to make it up to me anymore, I’m with Shiloh now.”

“Figured.”

His speech had been forward and crude, you’d be stupid if you couldn’t tell Joel was sour at the fact that you were together with Shiloh, but you had kept it to yourself, your chin had rested against the top of your knees and you had pushed the bottom of your lips behind your teeth. Mayhap it was your pride that didn’t allow yourself to grant Joel the path to make it up to you, or it was the fact that you knew your worth. Yet, it wasn’t like being with Joel had taken any value from you, you were a Siren, your worth had pierced into the sky and nothing could change that.

“Do you wonder how Shiloh would react when he finds out you’re a Siren?”

Hastily, you glanced at Joel ere you returned your gaze to the floor. “He already knows.”

Shocked, Joel scoffed, your comment shocking enough to pull the man up to his feet. “He already knows?” He thoroughly repeated as he walked himself towards you, “are you willing to tell everyone in your life what you are? Willing to put yourself in danger?”

You shook your head, “no,” you responded, your body posture full of defence. “He knew before I could even tell him and he accepted me right away. He loves what I am and he doesn’t make me feel shitty about myself.”

“How did he find out?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“I just want to make sure your safe.”

Over it, you jeered at his comment. “It’s a little too late for you to play protective boyfriend, Joel,” you painstakingly commented, your blunt words were like fire to him and you could tell your backtalk had hurt him with the way his eyes dulled in dismal. “I don’t need your protection; I can protect myself, and Shiloh would never hurt me.”

Once again Joel opened his mouth persistent to speak, but you had enough of his unwanted security. You didn’t want to speak to him and you didn’t want him to speak to you. “Stop it,” you thoroughly ordered, “just go back to your seat and get some sleep, we need to focus on returning to Jackson, and when we get back, we can go our separate ways, you stay out of my life and I stay out of yours.”

if you want to join a the last of us/joel miller discord here you go! 𓆩♡𓆪

songs that fit this chapter ⬎

⟶ olivia rodrigo - jealousy, jealousy.

⟶ d4vd - romantic homicide.

tag list ⟶ @minaxcarter @amethystwonders11 @am-3-thyst @bronwennsblog @milahnoz @moonlightdivine

feedback would be appreciated!

masterlist

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #ellie williams #joel miller fanfiction #the siren #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #the last of us hbo #the last of us #the last of us game #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us x you #the last of us x reader #tlou #tlou2 #tlou x reader #magenticsiren

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alwritey-aphrodite · 2 years

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A Cat Named Bee

Chapter 8 of You Are In Love

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: modern!Poe Dameron x reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: can you tell I like when cats do that nuzzling thing?

It seems strange to you how strange normal life feels. You always expect to hear your friends busy in the kitchen when you wake up, to see them first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Only after a week living together, it seems odd to be apart.

Although, you really aren’t apart all that often. You and Rose work the same shifts at Maz’s more often than not, and Finn, Poe, and Rey come in at least once a week. The five of you always get together on Fridays, whether that’s at someone’s apartment, The Resistance, or somewhere else altogether.

And, you’re always texting each other throughout the week, so not a day goes by that you don’t talk to them at least once. But it really isn’t the same as being around them all the time. You’d been worried that they’d get sick of you, but you all seem to feel the same way: the more time you spend together, the more you want to be together.

You just keep finding more and more things to love about your friends. Sure, they have some negative qualities, all people do, but all in all they’re the best people you’ve ever met, and you’re thankful for them every day.

Even when Rose springs it on you that she’ll be gone for an entire week, off to visit with her family out of state.

So, not only will you have to brave all of your shifts alone, you won’t get to see her or Rey for an entire week. You can’t even remember a time when you weren’t spending at least five hours of your day with Rose.

But you know how excited she is to see her family in person after so long, and how excited she is to bring Rey home. You can’t help but smile whenever she talks about it.

You promise, or threaten, to send her updates every hour, and she responds by saying she’ll block your number. Knowing her, she’d do it. So instead, you just tell her to have fun and tell you all about it when she comes home.

The morning shifts go by so much slower without Rose to keep you company, even when Finn and Poe stop in to talk during your slow times.

“Just the three of us, huh?” Poe says, leaning his elbows onto the counter while you finish making their drinks. You ignore the wink Finn sends to you.

“You should stop by The Resistance later, annoy us while we work as much as we annoy you,” Finn adds, taking his to-go cup from you after placing a generous tip into the jar.

“Maybe I’ll make an appearance,” you reply with a shrug of your shoulders, as if it’s probable that you’d have any conflicting plans.

“We’ll see you later!” Poe shouts on his way out the door, letting you tend to the customers who arrived during the mid-morning rush while he and Finn were distracting you.

You spend your afternoon lazing around your apartment, staring at half-finished paintings with a brush in your hand before giving up and settling on the couch with a book, hoping that you’ll magically receive infinite inspiration.

When that doesn’t happen, you make yourself dinner and send Finn and Poe a text, confirming that you’ll be at The Resistance later. When they text you back, they try to upstage each other on the number of exclamation points they can send. You just watch the messages light up your phone screen with a smile on your face.

A few hours later, when you arrive at The Resistance, you find yourself a spot near the corner of the bar, and settle in for the night.

“Usual?” Finn asks as he slides over to you, your drink already half made.

“What if I said no?” You ask, with a nod of your head to the drink he's already placed in front of you.

“I would have given it to a customer who appreciates me,” he responds, ignoring your eye roll and heading off to tend to more of the customers leaning against the bar.

You don’t see Poe until a little while later, but you don’t miss the way his eyes light up when he spots you after stepping out of the back office to help Finn behind the bar.

“Look who finally showed up,” he says in greeting as he steps behind the bar, working on refilling your empty glass.

“I got here on time, you should pay more attention,” you quip back, accepting your drink with a smile of thanks.

You spend most of the night by yourself, with Finn and Poe coming up to chat whenever they have some down time. It’s not until they’re practically closing that the three of you have a whole conversation, interrupted only by their shouts of goodbye to the customers heading home.

Once they’re all done cleaning up, you slip off your barstool and make your way towards the door, only to be stopped by both Finn and Poe.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Finn asks incredulously, pausing in his wiping of the bar top.

“Home?” You reply, but your confusion makes it seem like a question instead of a statement.

“Alone? Are you walking?” This time it’s Poe, organizing the space behind the bar that descended into chaos throughout the night.

“I was going to Uber.”

“By yourself? At one in the morning? No fucking way, Poe’ll drive you.”

You know they’re looking out for you, but you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Guys-“

“No arguing, Finn can finish up,” Poe already has his keys out and is shrugging on his coat, truly giving you no room to argue.

“Thank you,” you whisper as you buckle yourself in and Poe starts the car.

“It’s no problem, really,” he moves his hand off the gearshift, gently squeezing yours where it rests on your knee, and your body is full of sparks, “if you ever need anything, I’m always here.”

He says it with that signature smile that melts your insides to goo, so you only nod, even though he can’t see you. The rest of the ride is silent, in a comfortable way, only the gentle hum of the radio filling the car.

It’s over much too soon, and you linger a little too long outside of your building.

“Thanks again,” you say, leaning through the car door you’re still holding open, drawing out this interaction as much as possible.

“Like I said, not a problem.”

You’re turning and about to shut the door when you hear him clear his throat, so you turn back around and Poe looks like he’s about to say something. You raise an eyebrow in question, silently urging him on.

“Wanna get dinner tomorrow? Finn’s busy and it’s a Friday and that’s when we all do something together but everyone else is busy, so I thought-“

“That’s great,” you’re trying to play it cool, but you can feel your grin splitting your face apart, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

With that, you finally shut the door, and hope that he can’t see you silently celebrating as you walk up to your apartment.

Little do you know, he’s doing the same thing in his car.

As it turns out, the only thing Finn was busy doing was playing matchmaker. When you call him the next morning and ask what his plans are for the evening, you hear him chuckle to himself and immediately know he’s set this all up.

“You’re awful, did you know that?” You say through a smile, only making him laugh harder.

“You know you love me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Let me know how everything goes.” He’s barely containing his laughter, he’s just so proud of himself.

“I’m never speaking to you again.” That makes him cackle through your phone speakers, and you hang up without another word, not yet deciding if you’re going to be upset at Finn for setting you up.

You spend the day as an anxious mess, and nothing works to distract you. To try painting, reading, watching TV, taking a nap, and no matter what you do, you always end up thinking about Poe and overthinking what it’s going to be like to spend the entire evening together.

It’s not like you think he’s going to be rude or anything, you’re worried if you’re going to be able to control yourself and not let loose all the feelings you’ve been containing for months now. You’re practically a bundle of nerves the entire time you’re getting ready, and during the walk to Poe’s apartment, and by the time you’re knocking on his door, you’re sure you’re going to pass out.

You manage to stay upright when Poe opens the door, a broad smile on his face and a towel thrown over his shoulder. There’s a smear of flour across his nose that makes you fight the urge to gently wipe it away, and have your hand linger on his cheek.

“C’mon in!” Poe steps back, letting you enter into his space, “I tried to clean it up, but it’s still a bit cluttered. And dinner is almost done.”

You toe off your shoes before stepping deeper into his apartment, taking in all of his decor and furnishings.

“Wow, a chef and a bartender, what can’t you do?”

“Juggle.”

You snort, and it’s an ugly sound, but Poe breaks out in a grin while you shake your head at his joke, and you’d make that noise a hundred times if it means you can see that expression light up his face.

He goes back to cooking, frantically stirring at something simmering on the stove, while you take a peek at his kitchen and living room, looking through the items he has on his bookshelves and end table, the pictures he has framed and hanging on the walls.

There are pictures of him with Finn in front of jets, looking baby faced and bright eyed. There are pictures with him, Rey, and Rose, laughing around a table with a board game set up. There’s a picture of the five of you from your lake trip, and you can’t help the smile that grows on your face.

He had pictures with a man who you assume is his father, with the same nose and dark brown eyes, spanning from his childhood to what looks like a few months ago, in front of a large tree. He has older, weathered photos, with a smiling woman with curly hair and a curly haired baby on her lap. There’s a photo with him and an older woman, a different woman, with her grey hair in an elaborate braid.

You want to ask, want to sit and listen to him rememinse on every moment from the pictures, but you’re not sure how he’d react. The last thing you want is for the two of you to start growing close, only for you to ruin it by prying into his past.

While you have your dilemma, an orange and white cat winds itself around your legs, nuzzling its head as it goes.

“Oh, you must be the famed Bee,” you say to the animal, crouching down to give him a good scratch between his ears, delighting in the way he purrs and rubs against your hand.

You stay in your crouched position, cooing to the cat as he flips onto the ground, allowing you to pet him and making happy little noises as you do. Poe, for just a moment, stands in the entryway to the living room, smiling as he hears you speaking softly to Bee.

“Be careful, or you’ll inflate his ego,” he finally says, suppressing a chuckle as you jump in surprise.

“He deserves it, he’s adorable,” you reply, standing up, much to the protest of Bee, who meows loudly in an attempt to get you to stay.

As much as it pains you to leave the cat, you follow Poe back into the kitchen, Bee trailing behind.

“What can I help with?” You ask as Bee winds his way between your legs again, trying to get the attention back on him.

“Nothing, it’s almost done.”

“Then can I help set the table?”

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ sound. He truly is a headstrong, stubborn man.

So, you sit around and wait while Poe finishes up before plating the food and setting it on the table. It smells amazing, and you’re sure that it’s going to taste twice as good. Poe pours you a drink, and then you settle in at his cozy kitchen table.

You spend hours there, talking and talking about everything and nothing and all the things in between. You reminisce on your childhoods and cringe as you tell stories from high school and college, reliving your fondest memories.

You can’t remember a time in your life where you’ve talked with someone this much, where you don’t even realize the sky growing dark or the hours ticking by, you’re so enthralled with Poe and everything he had to say. Of course, he listens to you and your stories with just as much intensity, asking questions and humming along in all the right places.

At some point, you find yourself squished between him and the counter, helping him wash the dishes. He still insists that he wash and you dry, so he instructs you on where all of the dishes go. It feels intimate in an unexpected way, and it makes your heart thud against your ribs.

Though, you’re doing a much better job at keeping yourself together than you thought. You haven’t spilled your guts to the man yet, and it looks like you’re in the clear, as long as you remember how to breathe when he steps behind you to open up a cabinet and you can feel the warmth of his chest on your back, even through the layers of fabric that separate you.

It’s like he does it on purpose, acts all charming and lovely so you fall in love with him, and even though you know it’s not remotely true, that’s the only reason you can think of for why he’d torture you like this. Or, maybe, you’re being a bit dramatic and he’s just trying to put the dishes away.

Either way, he steps away all too soon, and you suddenly feel extremely cold without him pressed up against you.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” you blurt after a glance at the clock on his oven, worried you’d overstayed your welcome by about three hours.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he responds, looking confused until you jerk your heads towards the time flashing on his oven, nodding along as realization dawns across his face. “Well, now I’m sorry for keeping you here so late.”

It’s delivered with one of those classic Poe Dameron smiles that makes you weak in the knees, and you’re lucky you’ve got the sink at your back to support you.

“Alright, let me grab my keys,” he says, leaving no room for discussion as he turns away, heading towards his bedroom.

You shake your head, even though he can’t see you, and crouch down to give Bee some goodbye scratches. When you stand, he gently headbutts your leg, and your heart bursts at this adorable little animal. You see why Poe loves him so much.

When Poe comes back into the kitchen, you head towards his door and slip your shoes back on, waiting as he does the same. The two of you talk quietly as you make your way to his car, mindful of the late hour.

The conversation dies off into a comfortable type of quiet after Poe starts driving, and you almost think you could fall asleep like this, feeling warm and happy and safe. But, then Poe starts to talk, so you put off your nap for now.

“I’d let you watch him, next time I go out of town if you want.”

It seems random, out of the blue, but it makes your throat close up all the same. You remember the jokes about just how much Poe loved his cat, how he wouldn’t let anyone but Finn, Rey, or Rose pet sit for him.

You think you grasp his meaning, despite how well he thinks he’s hidden it.

“You’d trust me with your best friend?” Your voice is teasing, and your chest warms at the smile that graces his features.

“‘Course I would.” He’s pulling up to your building now, and you’d give anything to live in this moment for a little while longer. “Though he’s more of a handful than he seems.”

“Like you?” You ask, unbuckling and getting ready to bolt.

“Just like me.”

“No one’s just like you, Poe.” You say, voice going soft and tentative, “You’re one of a kind.”

You hope he grasps the meaning behind your words, while simultaneously praying he doesn’t.

“Goodnight, Poe.” You decide that no answer is better, so you hurry out and shut the car door without looking back at him, trying to walk to your apartment as calmly as possible, even though you’re rioting on the inside.

Your heart doesn’t stop pounding until you're laying in your bed, running through the night in your mind over and over, analyzing every single thing you’ve said. You aren’t sure how, but at some point, you fall asleep, still ruminating over every moment you’ve spent with Poe.

Tags: @aellynera @userspectors @andromeda-dear @dailyreverie @poopirate @luckynachos @creatively-analytical @stevenngrant @tiquinntheghost @fallinallinmendes @sabxism @ghostsongwriter-22

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron au #modern!poe dameron #modern!poe dameron x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars au #you are in love series

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yourmcu · 4 years

Text

V-Day

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary:

You’re not like most people who enjoys Valentine’s Day. Can a certain redhead change that?

A/n: just a late valentine related imagine for all of u bc I’m incapable of posting this sort of stuff on the exact day. enjoy! (I’m finally using this iconic gif don’t mind me)

Word count: 1,753

Warnings: fluff

The 14th of February is just another normal day for you. You always find Valentine’s Day cheesy, you don’t see the point of celebrating it. That sort of thing isn’t as important as Christmas or Halloween. Not that you're bitter because you're single, you couldn’t care less about that, it just isn’t the occasion for you.

Tony outdone it this year. The compound looks like it was powdered pink and red overnight from all the decorations when you step out of your room. You almost don’t want to know what the main area looks like. Sam and Wanda are probably getting started on breakfast which would consist of everything shaped like hearts.

Your plan for the day is to stay in your room, only coming out for snack and drink refills, simple as that.

“Hey, Happy Valentine’s...” you pretty much tone out every v-day greeting that came your way, rolling your eyes playfully as you sit down with everyone, greeting them with the usual good morning. You expect the compound to be deserted by midday since surely all of them have plans with their partners for the rest of the day, which is perfect. For you. And for them, of course, yeah.

Sam and Bucky made their way to you. “So, Y/N, how are you?” Sam greets. You already suspect that they were hyping you up for something. “Food good, coffee good... sleep well?”

You turn to them with a smile on your face. “Alright, what do you want?”

“Well,” Bucky lets out a breathy laugh. “Sam here was just helping me-”

“That is not what’s happening. What he wanted to say was,” the birdman cuts him off. “We both wanted to take you out to dinner tonight, we can’t settle on who, so we’re letting you pick.”

You blink. They have to be joking. Do they not notice your routine during this time of the year? After socializing with the team you’d grab a day’s worth of snack, head back to your room, lock the door and lose your mind on video games until the next day.

Unhealthy, but it's for one day.

“Only if you want to,” Bucky adds hastily.

“Come on, this is a chance of a lifetime!” Sam insists, wiggling his eyebrows.

“We’ll go to your favorite restaurant.”

“It’s just a friendly date.”

What you fail to notice was Natasha listening to the events happening. Her foot taps against the floor as she discreetly waits for your response, taking coffee sips and bites of food and looking away whenever she looked like she's eavesdropping. No one else is paying attention, everyone has their own conversations.

Inside, she pleads that you’d turn both of them down, just because she’s planning to ask you out herself. They just beat her to it.

“I appreciate the thought but I’m sorry, I have plans,” you shrug. “Why don’t you take each other out instead? Not literally.” You give them another smile and walk out of the room, coffee in hand.

Sam and Bucky nods indicating they understood. Sam tells his friend that if he had more appeal you’d agree to the date. But they take you up on your advice, already planning a guy’s night.

Natasha almost cheers when she hears the first part, only to spiral when she hears that someone had already asked you beforehand. You're unavailable. She could ask you out any day, but you deserve something extra special. She sees this day as her only chance to confess her feelings for you.

Her eyes trail you as you walk out, turning to Wanda when you were out of sight. “Do you have any idea who asked Y/N out?”

“I don’t,” Wanda replies, a bit distracted. “They’re lucky, I’ve never seen Y/N show interest in anyone since I met her. Anyway, I have to go, Vision and I have a whole day planned...”

Natasha huffs while people slowly file out of the kitchen. As far as she knows, Tony's with Pepper, of course, Wanda and Vision, Steve is probably going to join Sam and Bucky on their night out, and Clint is back at his farm celebrating with his wife.

And you’re with that person, which most likely someone who isn’t on the team otherwise she’d know. She's left by herself to mope.

Few hours have passed, maybe three, it’s lunchtime. As you suspected the compound is empty, so you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself something to eat.

Boxed mac and cheese is the only thing you knew how to make.

“Y/N?”

You almost drop your stirring spoon at the sudden voice. You feel embarrassed about your choice of outfit, you feel and look like a grizzly bear while she looks stunning, even if it’s just plain workout clothes.

“Hey, Nat.”

“I thought you were... out with someone?” Knowing you, she might’ve misunderstood when you said you ‘had plans’. You look so cozy she would love to hug you on the spot if she isn’t so sweaty.

You let out a curious hum, turning off the stove. “I was?” You giggle. “Where’d you hear that?”

“I didn’t, just, I assumed you’d be,” she mutters and finishes her water bottle.

You're now grabbing a bowl for the mac and cheese you made. “I mean, Sam and Bucky did ask me if I wanted to but... y’know, if I’m being honest they’re not really my type.” You pause to look at her who was staring back. “Have you eaten? This batch I made is enough for three people, I think.”

Natasha nods at your offer. “They did say it was a friendly date.”

You stop scooping the macaroni and perk your head up with a grin. “So you were listening.”

“Not like I had any choice, I was in the same room.” Quick save.

“Mmhm.”

Then there's a minute of comfy silence as you clean the area you made the meal on, putting the pot away and stuff.

“Why don’t you have a date today?”

“What?”

“Anyone would kill to go on a date with you, Nat.” Is what you say in your head. But instead you say, “Well, you know, I didn’t expect you be here too.”

Natasha shrugs and before she could answer you add, “No one’s caught the notorious Black Widow’s attention yet?”

She chuckles at your words, looking up at you. “Who did you think I’d go out with?”

“I dunno, Steve-”

“God, no,” she quickly cuts you off and laugh, you laugh along but at the same time sigh in relief.

“Crap, I just remembered I have a game to finish,” you hold the bowl of cheese and macaroni and stick two spoons on the side. “I’m cordially inviting you to my room, you are very much welcome, after you change.”

Natasha tells you she’ll see you there in a bit.

“Huh. I just noticed you do this every Valentine’s Day,” Natasha notes as she takes everything in. Your PlayStation's on, your trash bin is almost full of snack wrappings, couple of beers tucked at the side of your bed. “Cozy.”

“Why, thank you,” you say sarcastically, picking up a controller and waving a vacant one at her. “Feel free. Or you can just watch me fail at this game.”

Natasha decides to join the game a little later, now she's lost in thought on how someone like you spends such a day like this, or how beautiful you looked as your eyes dart at every direction of the screen and how you sometimes bite your lip when you're that focused in the game.

It's always the little things she likes about you.

Glancing at you one more time before eating a spoonful of mac, she turns back to the TV to watch how you're doing.

But you're witty, kind and easy to get along with, why wouldn’t you have a date - or why wouldn’t you want a date on Valentine’s Day?

If only you knew how she feels, she’d make sure to treat you well. Like you deserve. She’d take you on dates you’d enjoy every time the 14th rolls by. If you don’t like the holiday for some reason she’d find a way-

“NO WAY,” you cover your mouth and bump your head to Natasha’s shoulder in defeat, making her come back from her trance to look at the big red words on the screen, indicating you lost. “I almost had it!”

Natasha leans into your touch and pats your back. “You can try again.”

You groan. “I definitely will but for now, I’m gonna take a break.”

“Great,” she shifts a bit to get comfy, switching to Netflix and choosing whatever’s trending right now. “I’m just curious but, do you like someone?”

You hum in response, sipping on a beer, not completely processing what she said. “I - yeah. I guess so,” you tug the blanket closer and pout at the movie that’s on. You don’t like romance movies. You always prefer an action or a mystery one any day. “Do you?”

Natasha feels her heart ache for a moment. “Yeah. She’s kind and sweet, goofy but can still seriously kick your ass type.” Your eyes land to her hands. You knew fully well Natasha isn’t straight, she admitted and definitely doesn’t act like it. “There’s just something about her that makes me... love her.”

“She sounds great,” you mumble, starting to get lost in your own thoughts. “I guess I just-” you hesitate, just because the woman you're about to describe is the same one sitting next to you. “I feel bad for her that someone like me likes her.”

“Why would you think that?” Natasha chuckles, shaking her head.

You shrug. “She’s amazing. So out of my league, I’d say she’s so close but so far away but that would be really cheesy and ugly,” you laugh. “I don’t know, she deserves way better.”

Natasha hums. “Sometimes I think she needs to her worth, because what she doesn’t know is, she’s very much amazing in her own way.”

Looking up at her from her shoulder, your eyes light up and you don’t know when it happened, but you just found her lips pressed against yours softly.

Even if it was just a short kiss you feel breathless when she pulls away to look at you again.

“Just so we’re clear, we’re just describing each other like idiots right?”

“Yeah.”

Natasha leans in to kiss you again.

---

oh my god I want a hug

[shameless plug] check out my natasha romanoff ambience here

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

Text

A Wife For Thor Pt.01

10/12/2020

Arrivals and Departures

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 6,990

Warnings: language, talks of death, angst, talks of sex,

A/N: This is seriously...I mean, I don’t even know where this came from. Credits to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor because Roo gave me the idea and I kinda ran with it. Like omg, y’all. Blame Roo. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo Dialogue from Thor Ragnarok has been used in the beginning of this story.

Please do not REPOST my stories anywhere. Reblogs are most welcome!

He stands with his arms crossed in what appears to be a small sitting room with a large window that opens to the sublime sight of the black space beyond. Sterling silver, radiant red, and brilliant blue stars twinkle into infinity.

This is a sight that Thor had seen many times before and yet, for the first time in an age, he felt hopeful for the future.

His fight had ended. With Ragnarok, his journey had reached an end. Not the end, but certainly that of a chapter I which his battles might rest.

He imagines that this might be how his father felt when he had taken charge of the nine realms.

However violent that takeover might have been, his father had lied about many things—his sister for one—it had been the beginning of a quieter reign. A new formative time for his father. He may not have been a perfect man, but he’d grown wiser in many ways. Still not the best father, but his father, nonetheless.

Thor can almost picture his life on Earth, a time of peace. A time to rebuild. He will be able to give his people a good life there and he’s certain that his friends will appreciate having him closer. Friends from work they may be, but friends.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to go back to Earth?” Loki asks, standing beside him with his hands held gently at his front.

Thor looks at him, waiting a moment to allow him to finish speaking.

“Yes, of course.” Thor assures him. “The people of Earth love me. I’m very popular.”

Loki takes a breath, looking out the window as he quickly accepts his brother’s reasoning while simultaneously realizing he must word this differently to get his point across.

“Let me rephrase that.” Loki begins, “Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring me back to Earth?”

Thor knows that Loki has a point. His history with Earth is…not perfect. To say the least.

“Probably not, to be honest.” He admits, noting Loki’s apprehension.

Loki smiles, a little knowing.

“I wouldn’t worry, brother.” Thor tells him, both turning back to the void outside. “I feel like everything’s going to work out fine.”

The moment seems endless, the two of them waiting as if the something should or might happen after Thor’s optimistic sentiments.

Then the moment passes and Loki sighs.

“Right, well, I’ll start rounding up the people who will be of the most use once we arrive.”

Thor gives his brother one parting smile but doesn’t watch him leave.

Thor doesn’t know exactly what has changed in him, what makes him so confident in this decision, but he knows it’s the best decision he could have made. And if he’s honest, though he’d never admit it out loud, the possibility of finally being on the same planet as Jane…well, he’d be a fool not to consider the possibilities.

~~~~~~~~~~

Something feels different today.

As you wake, turning onto your side to stare across the small room at the blinking line on the blank word document on your computer screen, you can’t quite put your finger on what is making you nervous.

Your stomach is rolling, making you queasy, despite the fact that you have no reason to be anxious.

Yesterday was like the day before and today will be just like yesterday. Nothing in your life ever changes, and that’s become so much of who you are that whenever you have even a doctor’s appointment your heart begins to race in dreaded anticipation.

With trembling hands you clutch your blanket, trying to find a reason behind this mood. Your breath quickens as your heart panics, your mind scrambling to make sense of these emotions but nothing comes to mind.

So, you get out of bed. You get dressed choosing a simple knee length black dress that fits loose enough to keep you comfortable throughout the day. Then you head into the kitchen and start the coffee pot.

Halfway through the brew you shut the machine off and rush to dump out its contents into the sink.

“Fuck.”

You sigh, realizing you should really invest in decaf coffee for morning just like this.

“Tea. Tea is better.” You rationalize and pull your kettle off the warmer and fill it in the sink.

You replace it in its dock then turn your back to it, hands gripping the edge of the counter as you lean against it.

Your fingers stroke the smooth and unvarnished wooden countertop, suddenly going rigid around the lip as your heart goes frantic again.

The island counter directly in front of you is made of the same unvarnished wood, a slightly mismatched chair on the other side, tucked in beside the open shelving that holds your pots and pans. Along the center of the island sits a small vase with nearly completely withered flowers.

You’re filled with relief as your hands are given new task and you hurry forward and take the clear glass vase, toss the flowers—which crumble as they hit yesterday’s empty cereal box—dump the water in the sink and quickly refill it.

Setting the vase aside, you pull open a drawer and pluck from an array of contents a small packet of flower food, a pair of small pruners, a long piece of twine, and head out the back door to your modest backyard.

There isn’t much in it, and it’s unfenced. A large tree at the back-left corner provides shade and pecans. In the center of the yard sits a set of antique iron work garden furniture. Twisted and shaped into what reminds you of lace. Two smaller chairs and one long bench with curved backs.

You’ve been of a mind to buy cushions for them, but you haven’t found an excuse to justify the expense.

In between the garden set sits an outdoor coffee table made of wood and painted white. It’s fading and will need a new coat soon but again the expense can wait. At least until you sell another story.

Apart from this set and a small wooden shed beside the pecan tree, your yard is mostly overgrown grass and carefully cultivated flowers lining the length of your narrow back porch.

You smile, noticing the length of your grass, grateful for another something to keep you busy today. Something to keep your mind off this mysterious and anxious premonition of something to come.

Quickly you move to a large blooming bush at the end of your porch and cut from it several bunches of pink and blue garden phlox.

You admire the shade of the blue flowers. The color reminds you a pair of blue eyes you’d once seen on a woman who’d come to your school as a child.

She’d been beautiful and kind, but she hadn’t picked you. Still, you’d never forgotten the color of her eyes.

The pink is pastel at the edges of its petals and vibrant magenta at the center.

As you head back in, the kettle only barely beginning to steam, you quickly arrange the bunches you’ve picked and wrap them up with the twine. You set the bushel aside and with the vase pulled close, you tear the packet of flower food with your teeth and pour it in.

Replacing the flowers, you give the kettle one more look before you race back into your bedroom to pick out a more appropriate outfit for cutting the grass.

You decide on a pair of jeans and a plain yellow t-shirt. Pulling them on, you pause with your shirt hooked around your arms as your eyes find your laptop screen, annoyingly black still.

With a groan you pull your shirt on and from the kitchen you hear the whistle.

Breakfast is simple. A store-bought muffin and a cup of breakfast tea do the trick and while you’re still chewing your last bite you head out to cut your grass.

It doesn’t take you too long and you lament the last bit as you cut it, the machine vibrating violently in your nervous grip.

No matter how much you try to distract yourself, this feeling of something terrible coming will not go away and you’re about to go out of your mind when a shout from your back door pulls your mind from it.

Standing there is an older man with an unconventionally handsome face. His lips are thin, cheekbones prominent, brown eyes sunken, and his nose long and defined. His dark hair slicked and parted, neatly kept to match his crisp navy suit.

“Aren’t you a little overdressed?” You shout at him as the whirr of the machine dies into silence.

The man moves towards you, a smile brightening his face.

“I was just at a meeting.” He explains.

“Do you ever stop working?” You wonder, pushing the lawn mower towards the shed as he follows.

“Only when I’m on vacation.” He tells you, amusement in his voice but subdued and you only hear it because you’ve known him for years.

“You don’t take vacations.” You sputter, almost laughing.

“Precisely.” He agrees.

He waits for you to shut the door and when you turn, he greets you with open arms.

“How have you been?” He asks, holding the hug for longer than you’re used to which only adds to the anxiety you’ve been feeling all morning.

What’s going on?!

“Hey, you okay?” You ask him, ignoring his question in favor of satisfying your curiosity.

He doesn’t answer but holds the hug a moment longer before pulling back to look at you.

“We have to talk.” He tells you, making your heart pound.

“Okay. You want some breakfast?” You offer, and swallow hard as your fear mounts.

“Sure.” He says and follows you inside.

You make him a full breakfast. Eggs, bacon, breakfast sausage, and buttered toast with a cup of coffee. Just because you can’t stand the idea of being hyped up on caffeine today doesn’t mean David won’t.

He digs right in while you stand on the other side of the island, sipping on your second cup of tea in hopes that it will ease your frayed nerves.

For a few minutes he gobbles down your food but when you shift on your feet for the fourth time, he clears his throat, takes a drink of his coffee, then puts his fork down.

“It’s not exactly bad news.” He assures you, easing you a little but something tells you that you still won’t like it.

“Just tell me, David.”

“As your lawyer,” He begins, sitting back in your old wobbly chair. “It’s my duty to inform you when there are developments with your family’s estate.”

“Right.” You agree, remembering the day he’d found you when you’d turned eighteen to tell you that you weren’t exactly as poor as you’d thought.

You’re not really rich either. You have a little money that your parents set aside for you. Old money that you hadn’t really touched. You use it mostly for bills when you can’t sell a story fast enough and most of your wealth is in this cottage. A family home that you’d had no idea was yours until David brought you here.

Finally, a home, after living in that school all those years.

“Well, I think it might be time to reveal a little more of that estate’s history.”

“Why?” You put down the floral porcelain cup and wrap your arms around yourself, afraid of what he’ll say.

How did you know that something was coming? What kind of sixth sense do you have?!

“After all this time, why would it matter?” You sigh, moving to pull out the second chair to his right on the shorter end of the island.

“Don’t panic.” He tells you, reaching over to place his hand over yours. “Let’s keep our heads. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“You say that, but why do I feel like that’s not exactly true?” You sigh.

He blinks, gathering his thoughts before he nods.

“I think I’ll tell you all at once. Like ripping a band-aid. Might be the easiest for you.” He realizes.

You don’t disagree.

“Your family comes from a very small people in Europe. Their origins are hard to trace but we know that they travelled between France, Norway, Denmark, Romania, Belgium, Sweden, Austria, Greece, and even spent a large amount of time in hiding in the United Kingdom.”

“I get it, they were nomads.” You sigh, your mood taking a turn from the anticipation of clarity.

“Yes. Nomads.” David agrees, patting your hand in an attempt to calm you. “I only mention it because there are many questions as to where they had originated from. No one seems to know. Unfortunately, I don’t think that question will ever be answered as all records before their stint in France have been lost.

“What we do know is that your ancestors, your bloodline are royalty.” David says, as easily as if he were telling you your age. “Even though the titles have long since been lost, you are technically—though you have no country to rule over—a princess.”

Slowly his words sink in and your face begins to relax. You look down at his hand over yours and without warning you laugh once. Then again, and again, until you’re leaning on your chair, head thrown back as your whole body shakes with it.

“What is so funny?” David asks, unamused but he goes back to eating.

“This is a joke, right? You’re pulling my leg.” You gasp, breath shallow.

“Not one little bit.” He shakes his head. “If we knew what country your ancestors came from, you would very much be in some palace or castle, reigning over your people. Your parents, were they alive, would have been King and Queen.

“You may not think it possible, but that is your legacy, Y/N. You are of royal blood.” David insists which sobers you a little, but you think it’s so silly that this is what you’d been so scared of.

This is what you’d been dreading?

“Okay. Fine. I believe you. But what does it matter? You said that if I still had a country then I would be princess, but clearly, I don’t. So, I’m not. What’s the point of telling me this when it makes absolutely no difference to my life?

“I don’t feel any different and it’s not like that makes me any richer? I’m still sitting on a decently sized fortune to assure that I don’t want for anything at least until my forties. What could this possibly change that you felt it necessary to tell me?”

David wipes his mouth with his napkin, finishing up the last bit of his coffee before he gets up and with his dirty plates moves towards the sink.

“Leave it, David. I’ll clean up later.” You watch him, sitting up a little straighter as that anxious feeling begins to grow again with his extended silence.

He washes the plate and as he does, your nerves begin to fray again. You anxiously pick at a small splinter in your island, waiting for him to speak.

He turns towards you as he finished washing his plate, then meets your eyes.

“You weren’t just revealing my heritage, were you?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I felt I needed to reveal your heritage because someone has reached out with the hopes of setting up a meeting with you.”

“Why would anyone wanna meet with me simply because they know of my lineage?” You wonder, slouched, hands moved to your lap to rest limply as you stare at David, fear increasing with every moment that passes.

“May I ask you a personal question?” He says, moving to stand closer as he dries his hand on your dishtowel.

“David, you know everything about me.” You sigh.

“Why haven’t you ever had a boyfriend? Or girlfriend? I’m not sure I’ve ever asked if you-?”

“To be honest, I don’t know either.” You shrug. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Not even as a child?” He wonders.

“I was too busy wishing for parents as a kid.” You clarify. “I didn’t have time for crushes or any of that stuff.”

“Are you opposed to a relationship?” David asks, dropping the towel then moving around to sit back down in his seat.

“Opposed?” You ask, shaking your head. “Not exactly opposed. I’ve just never known anyone worth caring about like that. I’m mainly here at home. I do go into town when I need to get my packages but there isn’t anyone there that…I don’t draw attention like that.”

“You’re a pretty girl.” David tells you, reaching over to tug on your sleeve. “When you aren’t sweaty and covered in grass clippings.”

You scoff, shaking your head.

“It’s not something I really worry about.” You admit.

“Would you ever want to get married?” David asks, and your heart is suddenly pounding.

The idea of being someone’s wife had crossed your mind once or twice. Mostly when you’d been jotting down ideas or plotlines for your books. In the end, because you didn’t think you had enough insight, you’d opted to remove all romance. You write mysteries.

“I don’t know that I’d be any good at it.” You confess. “I’m not…I can’t exactly picture myself being someone’s wife.”

“Why not?”

“Because I…I don’t even know what I’d be like in a relationship, sharing space and time, much less sharing an entire life?” You shake your head. “I’m not saying that I haven’t thought about it but it’s only ever been in passing.”

David goes silent, tapping his index finger against the island.

“David, please. You know I can’t take the suspense.” You plead.

“Yes. I’m sorry.” He nods then reminds himself, “Band-aid.”

You take a deep breath and turn to face him a little more in your seat.

“Well, you are aware of our planet’s newest inhabitants?”

“Th-The Asgardians in Norway?”

“Yes.” David nods. “Well, as a sign of good faith, to ensure that they will abide by Earth’s laws and to assuage any ideas from panicked world leaders that they might try and overtake the planet and make it their own, they have decided that marriage to someone from Earth might be the best way to do that.

“The Asgardian known as Brunnhilde has reached out to all families of royal blood and asked to meet with any eligible women, preferably—as she so tactfully put it—maidens.” He explains. “Which I take it you are?”

You swallow hard, your lungs rubbed of oxygen and yet you somehow manage to quietly acknowledge, “Yes. I’m a virgin.”

How can you not be after spending your whole life unconcerned with romance?

“You don’t have to do it, Y/N.” David suddenly says; however, you can see the ‘but’ in his eyes. “But if you don’t and the Asgardian king cannot choose from the women he does meet, you will probably be hunted down and forced to meet with him anyway.

“All world leaders are in agreement that this is the correct and only way to ensure the safety of the planet. They will not give up until every woman meeting the Asgardian’s requirements have been given the chance to meet with Thor.”

“Thor?!” You gasp, rising to your feet as hundreds if not thousands of images flash through your mind of the Thunder God and the Avengers fighting side by side.

“Yes.” David affirms, rising to his feet with you. “With the death of his father, he is now King of Asgard.”

Of course, Thor is going to be King. You already knew this. It’s common sense.

For some reason though, the confirmation made out loud, vocally…how the fuck are you supposed to marry Thor? An Avenger? That’s not…this cannot be real life!

“David,” You begin, apprehensive.

“I know. I know it is a lot to ask but as I said, I don’t believe we have much of a choice. He might very well not pick you.” David adds, rushing to comfort you and point out how unlikely you’d be the one Thor chooses to wed. “There are plenty of other women that he’s already met with. Women that are more suited to life in a palace than you are. The Hungarian princess is so eager to be Queen of Asgard that she’s been sending the other women bribes to try and convince them to refuse.

“It won’t make a difference, since they cannot refuse should Thor choose them.” David admits.

“A-all I have to do is meet with him?” You stutter, heart in your throat.

“Just a quick one-hour meeting. He’ll ask you questions. Get to know a bit about you. See if you are suited for life as Asgardian queen and then it’s over.” David assures you.

“I’m…There are lots of other women better for it, right?”

“Loads of them.” David promises.

New fears begin to take hold in your heart and mind.

It conjures up the last time you’d seen Thor, strutting from a massive spaceship docked over the ocean by New Asgard. He’d risen from its depths all wide shoulders and biceps. Heavy steps thudding as he’d stopped at the end of the massive ramp, waving at the cameras as his people had filed out behind him.

His hair cropped short as opposed to the long tresses he’d had when he’d last been on Earth, one eye missing with a sleek black and gold metal patch over it the absence.

You’ve never been threatened by him before. He’s a hero. But the prospect of being his wife and having wifely duties...

Your mind flies into panic as it shifts that large body over you, crawling towards you with his hands prying your legs open. The years of sexual experience radiating off of this fantasy Thor and all of his bulging muscles.

You almost want to throw up at the prospect of having to consummate a marriage. You haven’t exactly been eager to be with anyone since you haven’t met anyone special, but you’d at least imagined something more intimate. More personal.

“David I-they won’t choose me though, right?” You reach out for him because your legs are suddenly weak.

He takes hold of your arms and helps you stand still.

“They won’t.” He tells you, sounding convinced. “There are better candidates. Women with actual titles.”

He’s right. Of course, he’s right. He has to be right.

“It’s just a quick meeting.” He promises. “Then it’ll all be over, and you can come back to your cottage and live just as you have been, with no one to bother you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Leaving your little place is difficult. After spending years without a home to call your own, now that you have your cottage, tearing yourself away from it is like pulling splinters.

You like your little yard. You like your flowers. You love your bed and its white sheets, little pink and yellow flowers printed on the soft fabric.

You’d made it more feminine. You’d brought flowers back and frills and lace. You’d made it everything you thought a cottage at the edge of a wood should look like and as time had gone by you’d brought in more personal touches.

After several years, your home is finally completely you.

This place, this massive Asgardian structure is less gold and more wood, stone, and iron. Silver steel polished so bright it gleams even in moonlight. This place is not you. It’s him. It’s Thor. His home.

Right now, with the day almost over, the palace takes on a warmer tone. The wooden structures and gray stone pillars are bathed in orange light, giving the place a pleasant glow and despite yourself, you can almost picture Thor meandering through these Nordic halls, a long crimson robe around his thick form.

It isn’t an unpleasant image now that you’ve given yourself some time to get used to the idea of him.

When you arrived you were greeted and seated in a large round room, the lower quarter of the sturdy walls made of ornate stone brick, the rest of the wall beautiful dark oak. The floor is also stone, massive carpets underneath several pieces of obviously Norse inspired furniture.

Well actually, the Norse was probably derived from Asgardian styles. There’s a difference in them that you can see but don’t understand. The coffee table in front of you has ornately carved legs, golden embellishments, and a black coat of paint.

The sofa you’re sitting on is mostly wood, painted gold, with plush and soft satin covered cushions in wine red.

There are two other tables around the room, a collection of books on one and an array of fruits, foods, and drinks on the other. There are several different statues and stands. Lamps that look as if they should have flames instead of the electric bulbs they now hold.

Small touches of modern design filter through the room complimenting the more traditional décor.

“Hello there.” Says a lilting voice.

You recognize it and turn to find Loki, slipping through a narrow opening in the large set of doors you’d been escorted through almost half an hour ago.

He’s dressed in a black suit with a plain white t-shirt underneath dressing the look down.

“H-Hi.” You stammer, surprised by his appearance.

You stand, knowing well that he may not be King but for Asgard, Loki is still a prince.

“No, please. Do not get up on my account.” He gestures at your seat and you settle back in as he crosses to the table with all the books. “I forgot some papers in here, I only came to retrieve them. Do not mind me.”

You avert your eyes, afraid to see something you shouldn’t and sit just as stiffly as before, hands fisting the royal purple dress you’d chosen to wear. It’s simple, quarter sleeves, high neckline with a small V at the center. Just above your knees in length, it rises as you grip it.

“Nervous to meet my brother?” Loki asks, stopping by the doors as he eyes your tight grip.

“This whole situation is a little stressful.” You admit. “I’m…I live in a small house in the middle of nowhere. I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“Ah, you’re the one with the lost lineage.” Loki realizes, moving closer with interest. “A hidden princess. You could have refused to come, you know?”

“I would have been forced eventually.” You point out. “There are a lot of people who want this marriage thing to happen.”

“True.” Loki agrees, “My fault, I’m afraid. I make them nervous.”

“You did very nearly destroy New York.” You point out, remembering the carnage reported that day. The aftermath had taken forever to clean up.

“I did.” Loki agrees. “Do you fear me?”

“No.” You admit. “If you weren’t safe, Thor wouldn’t have brought you back here.”

“He could just be too trusting.”

“Maybe.” You agree. “But with the fate of his entire people tied to the successful acclimation of Asgard and Earth, if you were really a threat, I think he’d have cut you out before coming back.”

Loki’s lips slowly curl up into a smile before breaking apart into a toothy grin.

“What is your name again?” He asks, a sparkle of something in his eyes.

“Y/N.” You tell him. “Why?”

“No reason. This has been very illuminating, Y/N. It was lovely to meet you.” Loki says then with a quick bow of his head, he leaves you to your solitude.

Confused, you sit there completely at a loss for what just happened.

Had you taken too many liberties with Loki? What had that smile meant? You’d been made aware that Loki was also involved in recruiting women of royal blood into marriage meetings for Thor, but you hadn’t expected him to know you by the description of where you live.

Maybe because it’s so unlike anyone else’s?

You sit there stewing for another twenty minutes, wondering if maybe you’re being stood up when the large doors open once again.

You shoot up onto your feet, so damn nervous your body reacts without your permission. Through the door this time comes the man of the hour. The massive Thunder God dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a plain gray t-shirt crosses over to the table with food and pours himself a stein of what looks like beer from a sloshing brown pitcher.

“Estrid, is this from the new batch of ale?” He booms loud enough that he can be heard even outside of the room as he takes a quick sniff of the liquid.

His voice is so deep.

Licking your lips, you watch him drink the entire stein without taking a breath or waiting for an answer, and then refill it before grabbing it and taking an apple with his other hand.

He turns, holding the fruit up to his mouth and freezes with it pressed to his lips as he meets your eyes, realizing he isn’t alone.

You’re not exactly sure what to say or what to do, completely taken aback by this strange and sudden exposure to candid Thor. Both of you unprepared to see each other despite the fact that you’ve literally been waiting nearly an hour for him.

His confusion mounts as he lowers the apple, looking around as if expecting an explanation or to see if he’s in the correct room.

“What time is it?” He suddenly asks, meeting your gaze again.

“N-Nearly six.” You tell him, and his one good eye goes slightly wide.

“Oh!” His lips curl up into an easy smile. “I did not think it was that late.”

His smile makes you feel a little more at ease, but you’re still on edge.

“You’re my meeting.” He tells you, as if you don’t already know that. “Y/N? Y/L/N, right?”

“Yes.” You nod, then before you can stop yourself… “You’re late.”

Thor blinks. Startled it seems or maybe just surprised, but then he smiles again. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“I mean, you can be as late as you’d like. This is your meeting. Sorry. I didn’t…I don’t know why I said that.” You rush to say.

“No, no.” Thor turns to put down his stein of beer and the apple replaced in its bowl. “You’re right. I am late. We were supposed to meet at five, weren’t we?”

When he turns back to you, you nod.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you have much you could be doing.” Thor says, moving towards you and gesturing at the spot you’d been in before sitting down at the other end of the sofa.

“No.” You confess. “Not really. I’m actually one of the only people that probably doesn’t have much to do. Well, I mean, I could be writing. Or cleaning house.”

“They tell me that you had no knowledge about your lineage before Brunnhilde reached out to your lawyer?”

You nod. “It’s not really important. Or…no. That’s not the right-what I mean to say is that it isn’t significant to my life.”

“Don’t you want to know who your family is?” Thor wonders.

“I know who my family is. I had a mom. And a dad. Both died just after I was born. That’s my family.” You explain. “Apart from getting to meet you, the news that my family was once royalty doesn’t change it in any way. I’m still just as insignificant today as I was before.”

Thor narrows his brow, watching you for a long torturous moment as he considers what you’d just said.

“Tell me about yourself.” He suddenly says, turning to lean back against the arm, his own thrown over the back, right leg bent up onto the sofa.

“There isn’t much to tell.” You admit. “I was born, my parents died in an accident. I was taken to a school for orphans where I grew up and aged out. On the day I had to leave, Mr. Valis found me and gave me my inheritance which is a good amount of money and a small house. I’ve been living there ever since.”

“You didn’t take any additional schooling?” Thor asks, relaxing. “All the other young women I’ve met have made it a point to tell me about the universities and colleges they’ve attended.”

“I took a few correspondence classes.” You tell him, “But I’ve only ever wanted to write, and I didn’t feel that I needed a higher education to do it. I mean, it would probably look better on my resume, but my writing should speak for itself.”

You can’t really tell what he’s thinking with the way he’s watching you, his hand playing with a thread on the back of the sofa.

You take it as a good sign that many of the other women have a degree of some sort. They must want someone respectable with a good education, right?

“How do you feel about political marriages?” He asks, and you’re stunned for a moment.

“Um…”

“Be honest, please.”

“I guess I don’t like the idea?” You admit. “Being forced to marry someone you don’t love because duty demands it? Feels archaic. If you love someone, whether they fit into whatever political standards are being demanded or not should not be a reason to get married.”

Thor sits up, shifting a little closer as he leans towards you.

“If you were asked to go along with a political marriage in every way but the heart, could you?” He wonders, much more interested than before.

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused.

“Well, let’s say for example, you and I were to marry. We’d be expected to have children. You’d be bound to do your duties as Queen of Asgard, but you would not be required to love me. Would you be able to fulfill these requirements?”

“You don’t want to do this, do you?” You realize, seeing the eagerness in his eyes. His shoulders slump. “If you don’t want to get married, why don’t you just say something?”

“I must do what I can to ensure the future of my people.” Thor says, sighing deeply.

“I’m guessing there’s someone else you do love that you can’t marry?”

“Not that I can’t but won’t. She isn’t ready for marriage and I don’t feel right making that kind of demand from her when she clearly has other things she’d like to be doing with her life. And…yes, maybe a little bit can’t. A royal marriage would make the most sense. I need a Queen.” Thor says.

You can’t find the words to tell him how fucked up this all is so instead you sit in silence.

“I know this is not ideal. I’ve tried to find other ways of assuring Earth of my commitment to this planet but nothing I’ve suggested is good enough.”

He needs a Queen. This gives you solace. No one is less of a queen than you are.

“I’m sorry.” You finally tell him. “It’s not fair. But I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone who checks all those boxes for you. I hear the Hungarian princess is pretty eager.”

Thor ignores you, stroking his beard as he watches you. “What do you want from a marriage? Let us say it’s many years from now and you have found someone you love beyond all reason. You two decide to get married. What does that look like?”

You’re a little surprised by the question but you humor him and take a moment to really think about it.

The man you picture has no face. There is no one you care enough about to imagine. So…because he’s the only option, you take Thor’s face and give your imaginary husband a face.

“We’d be partners.” You tell him. “Open about everything important. We would respect each other’s individualities. If something is troubling me, I would like to know that I could turn to him and if he had something on his mind, I’d hope that he could turn to me too.

“We’d be honest about even the unpleasant aspects of our life together. If we disagreed, we would talk about it openly. We wouldn’t hide from each other. We’d spend as much time as we could together and always make time for each other.”

You picture Thor sitting at your island in your comfy cottage. He’s so massive that he’d take up so much space. You’d have to squeeze past him, and he’d turn to wrap his arms around your waist as you pass.

He’d trap you there, not letting you move.

“We’d make breakfast together. Cramped up in my little kitchen, it would turn into play.” You smile. “We’d lounge around the house, reading and listening to music. In the evenings we’d move out to the backyard and watch the sun set then watch the stars until I’d fall asleep on his shoulder.”

As if you’re caught doing something you shouldn’t be, you startle yourself out of your daydream and feel your neck heat up.

You’d crossed from rational marriage into sentimental and you’re a little shocked at the detail in which your mind has gone.

You’re also a little startled by the pleasant feeling that picturing Thor in those situations has given you.

For someone who has never had a crush, you’re startled by the butterflies it gives you.

“But I’ve never been into anyone like that before.” You tell him, looking away from his intense gaze. “So, even if that’s what I picture, it’s not like it’s ever gonna happen.”

“It might.” Thor says, sounding as if he might be trying to comfort you.

“It won’t.” You assure him. “I hope your girl changes her mind.”

There’s a bitter ache in your chest as you say it, and you’re certain it’s only there because of the little fantasy you just allowed yourself to have. You should have picture someone else.

“I hope they relax on the royal blood thing and let you marry someone you love instead.” You hope.

“You say that as if you already know that I won’t pick you.” Thor observes.

You smile wide, laughing even as you bite your lip. “Well, I’m nothing like the girls you’ve met with. I don’t have endless amounts of money. I don’t have a prestigious education or extensive family. I don’t know anything about being royalty. The others have been doing it their entire lives. I’m the least likely candidate. I don’t fit the requirements, except for the bloodline thing.

“I only agreed to meet with you because I knew that the likelihood of you picking me was almost non-existent.”

“Ouch.” Thor says.

“No!” You rush to say. “You’re very…I mean, you’re kind from what I can tell and honorable. You’ve saved Earth a couple times and you’re a little self-centered but only in a superficial way that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a good man.

“I honestly don’t know why your girl won’t marry you but I’m not right for this.” You nod. “I wouldn’t make a good Queen for you.”

Thor nods slowly, thinking for a minute before he straightens up and turns to rise, slapping his hands on his knees before he moves back towards the table of fruit and beer.

“You’re probably right.” He agrees, and for some reason, you’re disappointed.

Not so much that he isn’t picking you, but rather that he sees you aren’t enough. You’re lacking in some way. Which you already knew but…knowing he thinks that makes you feel a little lousy despite that being something you wanted.

“I suppose I’ll just have to pick someone more suitable. Someone who knows better about ruling a people. All the same, thank you for coming.” Thor says, dismissing you.

He picks up his stein again and turns to look at you as you rise.

“It was a pleasure to meet you.”

You nod, “Likewise.”

After a moment of hesitation, you give him a wave and move for the doors, trembling hands reaching out to yank the doors open and make your escape.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been weeks since you met with Thor and you’ve completely forgotten the whole thing. Life has gone back to normal and even though you now know that you’re from royal stock, nothing, as you expected, has changed.

The only plus that has risen from this whole situation is that you can now picture marriage a little better, however inexperienced and cliché it might be, you can make something up now.

Your little fling with the idea of Thor had given you fuel to slip a little romance into your writing and your fingers are flying across the keyboard of your laptop as you type up a new and promising mystery about a set of lovers and the body they discover in the attic of their new home.

You hate to be interrupted during a writing session, but you must have forgotten that about yourself because your phone starts to ring.

Normally you mute it before you even sit down to write.

With a growl you reach over and take a quick look at the number.

David flashes on your screen and quickly you swipe to answer.

“Hey, can I call you back in like an hour? I’m in the middle of a chapter and I’m on a roll.” You plead, fingers still flying across the keys.

“Y/N, Thor chose you.” David’s voice says and your fingers freeze.

There’s a pounding in your chest and your head is full of white fuzz. Your legs are numb, and your stomach is swirling with both flutters and nausea.

You can’t have heard that right.

“What?” You ask, voice shaky.

“Thor. He chose you. I just got off the phone with Brunnhilde and she wanted to let me know so that I could call you and let you know that she’ll be by tomorrow to pick you up.”

This can’t be happening.

“She said to pack only what you absolutely need. Everything else will be provided for you.”

“David…I…I can refuse, right? I don’t have to marry him.” You plead desperately.

“Y/N…” David sighs. “You agreed to this before you went to see him. I’m afraid the time to back out has come and gone.”

“But I can just not do it.” You argue. “They can’t force me to do it.”

“The government will seize your assets if you refuse.” David explains. “They want this done. I’m sorry, Y/N. There’s no backing out of this now.”

“But…But he loves someone else.” You tell him and even though your mind knows that this should be the last thing to concern you, it should not be the first reason you can think of why marrying Thor is a bad idea, it is.

As your eyes focus on the little blinking line of your word doc, your heart gives a painful ache knowing that your husband will be loving someone else.

#thor x reader #king!thor x reader #royal au #arranged marriage au #thor odinson x reader #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfiction #a wife for thor #a wife for thor pt01

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fallingforunrealisticromance · 3 years

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I've got you - Derek Morgan x fem!reader part 2

A/N: Part 2 is here!! This is a lot more domestic and fluffy so I hope you guys enjoy:)

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2191

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The ride to Derek’s was a quiet one, but I didn’t mind. Even though everything happened so quick, I felt entirely drained. I’d been to his place a million times before but for some reason today felt different, wrong. Derek took my bags and placed them down as we entered, closing the door behind us. I looked tentatively around his hallway, not wanting to move.

“Hey” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “You’re safe here. No one’s gonna hurt you.” His voice was soft, providing me a small amount of comfort. I just nodded at his words. “Come on, let’s get you set up. You need sleep.” With his hand on the small of my back, he guided me gently towards his room.

“Wait Derek no I can’t take your room. This is your place; I’ll just stay on the sofa” I said trying to turn and leave the room, but he pulled me back.

“No y/n don’t be dumb.”

“But-“

“Just be quiet and let me do this for you” He said light-heartedly. Sighing, I reluctantly sat down on his bed. He started rummaging around in his drawers before pulling out a pair of basketball shorts and a big grey sweatshirt. “Here” He chucked them at me, hitting me in the face.

“You know I brought my own stuff” I chuckled.

“Yeah but mine looks so much better on you” He smirked, winking at me.

“Seriously? I’ve just been through a traumatic event and you’re flirting with me” I replied sarcastically, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“No better time beautiful.”

“Oh, shut up.”

He laughed before leaving me to change. I quickly pulled the clothes on, being enveloped by his scent. As expected, they were too big for me, but they hung off me in a casual yet stylish way, so I wasn’t complaining. I made my way out of his room to find him settled on the sofa flicking through Netflix.

“Hey.” I said catching his attention. His eyes scanned over my body as his mouth hung open slightly. “Don’t trip over your jaw there” I joked, sitting next to him.

“When you walk in looking like that what do you expect me to do?”

“Come off it.”

“I’m not lying y/n. your gorgeous.” He stared at me, an emotion flooding his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. We held each other’s gaze longer than I think either of us intended to. The tension in the air was impossible to escape from. I don’t know what it was, maybe the fact he’d saved me, but something was drawing me to him. Like literally. I felt myself slowly moving closer to him, as he copied my actions. My eyes flickered across his face, trying not to pay any attention to his lips. This was my best friend. I shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought of him being anything more. But in that moment, every smile, every laugh, every time he’d made me feel like life was worth living flashed through my head. Had we been this oblivious to something that was starring us in the face this whole time? I could feel his warm breath fanning over my face. Neither of us moved for a second, unsure of what this would mean. But eventually, Derek leaned forward once again. His lips brushed softly against mine.

Just as I closed my eyes, ready to give in to this – give in to him – there was a sharp knock at the door causing us both to jump apart. I pulled the jumper closer to my body, now feeling incredibly stupid and awkward. Derek just starred ahead of him, as if he was trying to process what the fuck just happened. Before either of us could say anything, there was another hard knock at the door. Derek’s head snapped to face it, any tension between us immediately slipped away as he moved in front of me protectively before making his way to the door.

“Stay there” he instructed. As he made his way out of the room, I slumped back into the sofa burying my head in my hands. Why did I just let that happen? Where do we go from here? Have I just fucked everything up? Before I could stress out anymore, Emily’s voice flooded my ears.

“Well neither of you were answering the phone, what did you expect me to think?” Shit. She came round the corner, relief washing over her when she saw me. “hey, are you okay? I called you”

“Yeah I left my phone in Derek’s room, sorry for worrying you” A smirk settled on her lips as she looked between me and Derek.

“Derek’s room huh?” I felt my face flush red as I chuckled awkwardly.

“Get your mind out of the gutter Prentiss.” He joked.

“Well why else was she in there then? And may I ask why she’s in your clothes?” She stated smugly. I rolled my eyes standing up.

“I’ll show you. Come on” I grabbed her hand and tugged her to his room, leaving Derek stood in the front room. I pushed her inside and quickly closed the door behind us.

Emily laughed. “Whoa, you’re in a rush. That excited to show me where the magic happened then?”

“Me and Derek almost kissed” I blurted out in a hushed tone. Her jaw dropped.

“I’m sorry – what” I just nodded. “Explain. Now” She said, sitting down on the bed.

“We were just sitting on the sofa, and he said I look good in his clothes-“

“He’s not wrong you know they really suit you”

“-and then we both just sort of ended up leaning in and then well you came in”

Her face fell once again. “What? Are you joking? Oh, for gods sake I wish I hadn’t come over now.” I chuckled slightly at how distraught she was. “How do you feel?” She asked noticing how I was fidgeting with my hands.

“I don’t know.” I breathed. We were silent for a moment. “I think…I liked it?” I whispered. Emily let out a small cheer, making me jump. “Shush, I don’t want him to hear us”

“Sorry, sorry I’m just happy for you.” I ran my fingers through my hair.

“But what if it doesn’t mean the same to him? I mean you know what he’s like, he flirts with anything with a pulse.”

Emily nodded. “I mean you’re not wrong.”

“Oh great.”

“But he’s different with you.”

I looked at her, confused.

“Oh, come on, don’t act like you don’t see it too” She stated.

“See what?”

“Just him, his behaviour around you”

“You forget that I’m not a profiler Em” I replied rolling my eyes.

“Trust me, it does not take a profiler to work out how he feels about you.” I let her sentence hang in the air. I didn’t really know how to respond to that. “Whenever he’s with you, he just seems so relaxed. He never has to put a front with you, it’s almost like he completely unwinds with you. Not to mention how his eyes never leave you. Every chance that man gets, he’ll be admiring you.” My mouth hung open slightly at her words. “How have you not noticed this?? Not even how affectionate he is with you?? He will take any excuse he can to be near you or touch you.” She explained.

Thinking back on it, what she was saying made sense. Whenever we saw each other – whether in a group setting or alone – he would stay close to me. I can’t count the times he would rest his arms against mine or place his hands on my hips when moving past me, just little things like that that I’d always overlooked. Until now.

“Holy shit” I whispered.

“You see my point?” I nodded at her words. “So, here’s what you’re gonna do. I’m gonna leave, and you my friend, are going to ride that man into the floor.”

“Emily” I slapped her on the arm before bursting out laughing. After we calmed down, she stood up.

“Seriously, make your move.” I sighed.

“I’ll try” We made our way back to the front room where Derek was sat, watching a film.

“Well, I’m off. Have fun” Emily said, waving at Derek. She shot me a supportive thumbs up before leaving. I took a deep breathe, trying to supress any nerves that were threatening to explode before tuning and entering the front room.

“You two took your time.” Derek said, his eyes not leaving the screen.

“Uhm yeah she was just telling me about a date she’d been on.”

“If it wasn’t with JJ I don’t want to know.” I smiled at his words. I glanced over at him, taking my time to appreciate his features. Even though he’d always been attractive, everything about him seemed to be a little more beautiful. The sudden urge to touch him washed over me. I wanted nothing more than to curl up against him and just feel him pressed against me. I wanted to be utterly consumed by him and nothing else.

“You know your starring right?” His voice broke me from my trance.

“Right sorry, just appreciating the view” I mumbled.

“No need to apologise baby girl.” His tone was soft, not something I heard often. It made my heart melt. I looked at my hands, fidgeting with the sleeves of his jumper as I tried to pluck up the courage to talk to him. “Hey.” He called gently. He’d stopped the film by now, his focus solely on me. “Come here.” Slowly, I shuffled my way towards him until I was sat facing him. I tried my best to appear calm, but I think the vigorous tugging of my sleeves gave me away. Derek placed his hands softly over mine, entwinning his fingers with mine. This small display of affection caused my breathing to halter.

“What’s got you all worked up then?” He asked caringly.

“You” I whispered, finally meeting his gaze. His brow furrowed slightly, and he pulled away from me. “No no wait, it’s not a bad thing.” I said reaching for his hands once again. I took a deep breathe. “I don’t know what this is. Or what it could be. All I know is this morning, I saw you as a friend. But now, I want more than that. I want you Derek.” I confessed.

A smile crept its way across his lips, even though he tried to hide it. He placed his hands on my hips before promptly lifting me up and placing me on his lap.

“Well, that was a bit forward” I laughed, my arms snaking their way around his neck.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this” He said chuckling.

“You got me there.”

We just sat there, relishing this feeling. The feeling of being just us. No BAU buddies, no unsubs, or dickheads from work. Nothing existed outside of each other. We consumed the other’s world for that brief time. Derek lifted his hand, cupping my face. I closed my eyes and leant into his touch, smiling to myself. Yet again, the urge to kiss him swum through me. Clearly he felt the same as he began to lean forward. Just as I was about to press my lips to his, he stopped and pulled back slightly.

“What about Sean?”

“He’s not my type.”

“But surely you’ll want to-“

“Oh just shut up.”

I cut him off by crashing my lips to his. He responded quickly, wrapping his arm tightly around my waist. I melted into his as he overwhelmed my senses. His lips were soft yet rough in the most perfect way. His hand moved from my cheek to tangle in my hair, pulling me impossibly closer. Finally, we were able to let out of the pent-up tension between us in one heated moment. Everything just felt right. Eventually, we both pulled away slightly breathless from the passion of it all. I kept my eyes closed as he rested his forehead against mine, allowing myself to bask in the joy of it all for a moment longer.

“It’s about damn time.” Derek whispered.

“You could’ve said something sooner.” I replied, pulling back to look at him.

“That’s not how I work gorgeous.” He said smiling.

”Mhm I’m aware.” I tried my best to stifle a yawn that had decided now was the perfect time to creep up on me but failed miserably.

“Wow am I that bad of a kisser?” Derek said, mock offence laced in his tone.

“Shut up, you know you’re not.” I said smiling.

“Very true. Come on, you need to sleep.”

I nodded in agreement. I went to get of his lap, but instead was greeted with him wrapping his arms under my legs and lifting me up. As he stood up, he decided to cover my face in a bunch of small kisses making me laugh the whole way to his room. I think that was the moment I knew I loved him. No matter what happened from this point onwards, I would always love Derek Morgan.

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Part 3? I'm not actually sure where to take it from here so if anyone has any suggestions let me know!

Tag list: @1234-angelika @hotch-stufff @wanniiieeee

#derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan #bau #comfort #criminal minds #fem reader #fluff

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

Text

Electric Feel - Tom Hiddleston smut

The one where Tom moved in to help you, but you end up helping each other.

Warnings: porn with a very unecessary and minimal plot, smut, dom!female, sub!Tom, masturbation (m), oral sex (f), mistress kink, brief mention of a stalker, actress!reader

Word count: 2k<

A/N: This is so small compared to everything @just-the-hiddles deserves, but it’s her birthday and I just couldn’t let it go by without a token of my gratitude, love and admiration! Happy birthday, Liz! I hope you know how much I care about you! ALSO: unedited for the moment because I just started and finished this entire thing in the last six hours when I should be studying but oh well.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I didn’t remember stopping to think for a single second ever since I saw the news. My fingers acted on their own accord, hitting those numbers I had memorized so long ago, raising the phone to my ear as I waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?” Hearing her voice didn’t calm me down like I expected it would. I realized then, I’d only feel tranquil once more when I could see her with my own eyes, touch her skin, feel her warmth.

“Darling? How are you?” I still asked, almost automatically, and if I had hoped she would at least be well enough to pretend to be okay, the sharp inhale that preceded her burst into tears shattered that illusion in a second. “I’m on my way.”

And that was how I ended up in her house in what felt like the blink of an eye. The trip there could have lasted days - all that mattered was that the second I had my arms wrapped around her, everything felt alright again.

“It’s okay,” I soothed her, but it was probably better directed at myself. “I’m here now.” It took at least a day before I was comfortable enough to ask her about it. “How did they find the guy?” When she latched onto a detailed explanation of the events from the last week, how she’d started receiving random death threats that suddenly weren’t so random anymore, I felt almost like I wasn’t even there, but floating over the living room, watching us talk from the outside looking in.

I held her close for a long time after that, unable to admit even to myself that not feeling her body against mine made me feel empty and weak. And so the feeling of protectiveness stirred awake inside of me - or maybe it had been there all along, I just failed to acknowledge it.

All I knew was that inserting myself into Y/N’s daily life was much easier than I ever expected it to be. And even if I told both her and myself that this was for her own safety, because she needed someone around until she felt comfortable by herself again, I knew it was more for my own benefit than anything else.

I just didn’t anticipate it would make my feelings that much harder to deal with. Did I know that I wanted her? Yes, maybe even ever since we’d met. And as our friendship progressed and we became closer, I saw that desire develop into something deeper, more solid. Still, I stupidly believed it was nothing more than a crush, and I’d be able to pretend it didn’t exist and get on with my life day after day like it wasn’t there.

Now that my days began and ended with her, I was highly aware of my mistake.

“Tommy,” she called out, making me lift my eyes from the tv and fall on her and the dog she currently tried to control. “I’m going to take her for a walk, okay?” I sat up automatically, ready to join her, when I felt a hand over my shoulder, gently pushing me back against the sofa.

“C’mon, finish the movie!” She admonished, a knowing grin on her face. “I think there’s a scene coming up with someone you particularly enjoy. I’m just going into the backyard, no need to worry.”

Even though I stayed seated where she’d left me, my eyes trailed over her figure as she disappeared inside the kitchen, until I heard the backdoor close. Despite knowing there was no possible immediate danger to her inside the boundaries of her own home, I couldn’t help but worry.

That was until a moan caught my attention, bringing it back to the tv once more. It sounded so familiar and so foreign at the same time, I was instantly intrigued, eyebrows furrowed as I struggled to identify the young woman that was being so brutally fucked by the main protagonist in a dark club.

My mouth hang open once the lighting changed and her face became recognizable, those same alluring features tempting me just as much as they tempted the character on the screen. So this was what she meant, I didn’t even know she was on this movie when I first picked it out.

I could feel my member hardening inside my sweatpants as her beautiful, melodic voice kept tempting me, and I grit my teeth as I chanced a glance at the kitchen, wondering how long I had before she was back. Not enough, I knew that. Still, looking down at my crotch made me believe it was worth at least a try, because the alternative was her surely seeing just how affected her little scene had made me.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The silence in the living room was my first indication that something was different, and as I stepped foot in the place where I’d left Tom not even five minutes ago, I realized my intuition was right - he’d abandoned the movie and left me alone in the main floor of the house.

Maybe he wanted to take a shower, or answer a call? I didn’t know, but I figured I should let him know I was back before he got worried, so I climbed up the stairs two at a time before stopping in front of the guest room he’d been staying in, suddenly frozen by what I heard.

“Y/N…” It was my name, breathed out in a whiney, raspy moan that left me no doubt over what was happening behind the door I now clutched so tightly. My mind drifted back to the movie we’d been watching, the scene I knew he’d see. Had I been the cause for his arousal?

My body acted of its own accord, the week of emotional tension before he arrived, replaced by the sexual energy that was always present whenever he was around finally getting the best of me.

I opened the door. His hand was curled around a large member, the sight of which had me whimpering as I clenched my thighs together, alerting me of my entrance. His eyes, which were closed, immediately widened upon seeing me, and he tried to cover his erection with both hands, even if it was obviously not possible to do so.

“Why are you shy?” I asked, head tilted as I analyzed the man before me, my mouth watering at the sight. I was desperate to give in to this desire, let go of the fears and anxieties that had been clawing at me ever since the first message arrived, and so I climbed on the bed like he was my prey, determined to make him crack and admit his own attraction to me.

“You called my name,” I noticed once I was on his lap, eyes taking inventory of every inch of pretty skin I couldn’t wait to bruise. “Don’t you want me?” At the sound of the insecurity in my voice, he jolted, eager to show that there wasn’t a reason for there to be any.

“Of course I do.” Smiling, I hummed appreciatively as I licked my lips, eyes darting down and seeing that he still hadn’t resumed his movements on his cock, even though it clearly needed some attention.

“Then why don’t you touch yourself while I suck little lovebites all over you huh?” Finally, I enveloped his pink lips with mine, eager to taste them, touch his tongue with mine. But I needed to see him cum way too badly, and I craved the control I knew I could exercise with him.

So I forced myself to pull away, laying kisses down his jaw until I reached his neck, starting to bite and suck there at the sound of his whines. Below us, I noticed he had started jerking off again, although hesitantly, and so I covered his hand with mine and forced him to get back to his previous pace.

“Show me how much you desired me,” I ordered, as he instantly fought back, “Kiss me again.” It was such a sweet request, and particularly in the breathless tone he tried to make petulant, it made me even more excited to play with the man I had wanted for so long.

“But do you really deserve another kiss?” I taunted, pressing them on his chest, on his biceps, anywhere other than his lips. He was breathing through his mouth now, long deep sighs being interjected by his moans and whines, and it all went straight to my panties.

“Yes,” he insisted, hand tightening around himself and a delicious blush spreading over his chest as I sat back on by heels to judge the hauntingly tempting image before me. He bit his lower lips in an effort to hold back his own sounds, but as I got rid of my clothes, his efforts proved fruitless, and a wanting cry escaped his throat as I forced him to quicken his movements once more.

“Oh, I see…” I wasn’t done teasing him, not by a long shot. “You’ve wanted me all along, haven’t you?” All he could do was nod, and I could see the underlying shyness in his reluctance to admit it.

“Well, I’ve wanted you too, baby. And right now, I want to suck you off until my jaw is sore, how does that sound like?” Another moan was all I got as a response, making me smile wider than I’d ever done before.

“But I don’t think you’ve earned it yet. So for now, all I’ll let you do is keep touching yourself while you suck on my tits, how about that?” His eyelids were heavy when he looked at me, having to throw his head back to be able to meet my eyes.

“Fuck… It’s… perfect.” I cooed at how wrecked he looked like, even with how little I’d touched him, my navel brushing his member briefly as we adjusted ourselves so he could wrap his lips around my nipple.

“Oh…” I gasped in delight as tingles raised up my spine at the pleasant sensation, and between us, I could feel his movements growing more desperate as my moans replaced his in the otherwise silent bedroom.

When I felt him spill all over my stomach, I pulled him away from my chest by my grip on his locks, finally giving him what he wanted and capturing his lips with mine once more. “Hmm…” I moaned once we parted and I’d scooped some of his release to give it a taste. “So sweet.”

Tom was looking at me like I was some sort of extraterrestrial being, chest visibly heaving in his effort to keep breathing. “Can I taste you know?” He at last managed to ask, and I pretended to think, before gently nudging him out of the bed and onto the floor.

“Yes,” I approved, wrapping his curls around my fingers again before bringing him down to the apex of my thighs, moaning as his tongue eagerly plunged inside of me, eager to get acquainted with the most intimate part of my body. “Who would have known you could be such a submissive little thing, huh?”

When he raised his head to answer, just the sight of my wetness dripping from the lower part of his face had my heart skipping a beat. “You should have known… A single word from you and I’d drop to my knees and worship you like you deserve… Mistress.”

#my fics #tom hiddleston smut #smut #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston reader #tom hiddleston reader insert #tom hiddleston reader inserts #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic

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twices-pup · 3 years

Text

Tattoos Together

title : tattoos together ( son chaeyoung x gn reader )

word count : 1,682 words

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of needles

synopsis : [ requested ] you face a fear to remind your girlfriend, chaeyoung, that you love her for all that she is, including her tattoos.

side note : my first request finally done! i really hope the anon who requested and anyone else who reads this likes it! the request was a little vague so i had trouble making this fic long enough, and had to rewrite it a few times but since today is chaeyoung's birthday i was determined to finally get this out! happy strawberry princess day, everyone!! also, the title is definitely inspired by the song tattoos together by lauv because i suck at coming up with titles.

You were never one to be fond of the idea of getting a tattoo. It most probably stemmed from the fear of needles that you've had since you were a child and never quite grew out of. The mere thought of your skin being pierced and inked was enough to send a chill down your spine, which was why you vowed to yourself to never so much as step foot into a tattoo parlor.

Your girlfriend, on the other hand, loved getting tattoos. Her skin was like a canvas, and the tattoos she had gotten over the past couple of years were the works of art. You weren't surprised, Chaeyoung herself was nothing short of an artist, after all—if you handed her a pen and a piece of paper, she'd be able to conjure up a masterpiece out of thin air. Although you were still very much against getting a tattoo yourself, you've learned to love each and every one of the tattoos adorning her skin just as much as you loved the person herself.

Chaeyoung told you her intentions to get a couple more new tattoos shortly before TWICE began filming for the music video of their then newest title track, More & More, for the mini album of the same name. She was over at your place for a visit and the two of you were lazing on your couch together, television turned on and your eyes on the screen but neither of you really focusing on the program playing. You had an arm around her shoulders while she rested her head in the crook of your neck, the room pretty dark save for the light flashing from the TV screen and some sunlight that filtered in through your drawn-in curtains. "I've already looked up some designs I like," she had said. "I'll only pick one or two to get tattooed."

You didn't think much of it at first, the only thing that crossed your mind was "Ah, my girlfriend is getting another tattoo, cool." However, that was until you made an off-handed comment, with your eyes still glued on the TV. "You really like getting tattoos, huh? You have so many already, but you still want to get more."

Upon hearing your words, Chaeyoung suddenly became aware that you were subconsciously rubbing her upper arm gently, your fingers brushing right over the cherry tomatoes tattoo she had there. She didn't say anything at first, your living room back to being quiet other than the voices of the actors coming from the TV speaker. "Yeah, I really do," she suddenly answered you after you thought that the topic had been dropped. "I hope you don't have a problem with that."

Although she had muttered the last part under her breath, you were able to hear it clearly. You turned away from the TV to look at her, with a tiny crease between your eyebrows that were furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? Why would I have a problem with it?" you asked her softly.

Chaeyoung met your eyes and sighed. "Not everyone is a fan of girls with tattoos, you know?" she said, her gaze dropping from you to her lap. "So as the person I'm dating, I hope you're not one of those people. Those people who hold prejudice against tattoos or something like that."

Throughout the duration you had known Chaeyoung, you had always viewed her as someone who's free-spirited and jaunty, who doesn't let what other, insignificant people think of her get to her head, as long as she's able to do what she wants to do and be who she wants to be. So seeing her suddenly be so self-conscious about her tattoos, about something she'd usually feel so natural about, caught you by surprise. You realized that, perhaps, as her significant other, your opinion of her meant more to her than that of others did, and you immediately regretted letting your guard down and making such a careless remark.

"Hey," you called out softly, reaching for one of her hands to hold it in yours. "I do not and will never have any kind of problems with your tattoos. I know you love them, and that's completely okay," you assured her, offering her a gentle smile when she looked up at you. Her eyes searched your face for a moment, before she started chuckling.

"Thank you, y/n. Wow, that conversation got so serious all of a sudden. I feel a little embarrassed now, let's talk about something else."

You obliged with a nod, letting Chaeyoung shift the conversation to a different topic as you didn't want her to feel awkward or uncomfortable. Though you did make a mental note to remind her more frequently that you loved her, every single part of her.

On the day of her appointment at her regular tattoo parlor, you gave her a call. "Hey, y/n," she greeted you when she answered her phone. "What's up? I was just about to head to the tattoo place."

"Yeah, that's what I called you for," you said on your end of the call, feeling a little nervous but refusing to turn back on your decision. "Would it be okay if I tagged along with you?"

Your question was met with a moment of silence as Chaeyoung fully took in what you were asking her. "You want to come with me...to a tattoo parlor?" she asked for confirmation, and you nodded, although you were well aware that she wasn't able to see you. "Yes," you verbally answered. "I wanna accompany you as you get your new tattoos."

Knowing you, Chaeyoung surely hadn't expected you to willingly want to watch her get tattooed, in fact it came as a pretty big surprise to her, but if that was what you truly wanted then she had no reason to refuse. She texted you the address of the tattoo parlor and you met up with her there roughly half an hour later, swallowing down your nerves and telling yourself that you were doing it for you girlfriend all throughout your journey.

As the two of you entered the establishment, Chaeyoung noticed your shifty eyes looking all around the tattoo studio, and saw that you seemed more unsure of your decision to come by the passing second. "If you're having any regrets, you can leave at any time," she told you.

Despite the slight uneasiness you were feeling, you quickly shook your head. "It's okay, Chaengie. Like I said, I'm gonna be here for you."

"But why? y/n, you and I both know you're scared of needles, including tattoo needles."

"Because I know how much you love your tattoos. And I love you, so I wanna give you my support."

Your response was enough to put a wide smile on Chaeyoung's face, and seeing her smile was enough to make you smile too, in spite of your jitters. Chaeyoung's hand found yours and held it tightly as she led you deeper into the tattoo parlor. "Thank you," you heard her whisper. "I love you too."

The tattoo parlor was brighter than you had imagined it to be, but frankly that was because you had pictured the place to resemble a dark, soul-sucking torture chamber. Although the sufficient lighting managed to calm your nerves down a bit, the many scary-looking tattoo designs—skulls, snakes, demonic faces—hung up on the walls as decorations weren't helping. As you sat next to Chaeyoung at one of the tattooing stations, you did your best to not look at anything that, to you, were frightening, especially the tattoo machines.

You stayed quiet and only watched as Chaeyoung showed the tattoo artist the designs that she had chosen and told him where she wanted the tattoos to be. Your body tensed up and your breath hitched in your throat when the man took out a tattoo machine and started preparing to tattoo your girlfriend. Chaeyoung, noticing that you were as stiff as a board, gave you a reassuring smile. As much as you appreciated the gesture, you weren't able to smile back.

When the man finally started, you immediately diverted your eyes from your girlfriend to stare down at the floor. However, that did little to nothing to block out the whirring sound of the machine as it did its job. You gripped Chaeyoung's hand, the side that wasn't being tattooed, claiming that you were comforting her, though she had a feeling that it was the other way around instead.

"You're acting like you're the one getting a tattoo," she couldn't help but tease you.

When he was done with her tattoos after what felt like an eternity to you, you let out a heavy sigh of relief. You were finally able to turn back to Chaeyoung as she showed you her two new tattoos, one of a plant on her upper right arm and another of a butterfly by her right wrist.

"Woah, they look great," you complimented, genuinely impressed by the artist's handiwork. "I can't believe I made it through that, I guess watching people get tattooed isn't so bad after all."

Chaeyoung raised an eyebrow at you, amusement evident in her smile. "It isn't, but saying you watched me get tattooed is a bit of a stretch," she opined, and you pouted. "I was still here nonetheless," you argued.

"Alright, alright. Fair enough." Your girlfriend chuckled. "Then maybe next time you can take it a step further and get a tattoo yourself."

You playfully scrunched up your nose at her words and were about to oppose, until she continued. "Maybe we can even get matching ones!" she proposed, her eyes bright with excitement over the idea. Your expression softened in an instant, a wide smile making its way onto your face. Whenever she looked at you like that, with such innocent joy, it was near impossible for you to ever say no.

"Well, maybe one day," you told her, as you helped her up from her seat.

"Maybe one day, we can get tattoos together."

. . .

please do not repost my work, whether on tumblr or on any other site.

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ggukkiedae · 3 years

Text

❝𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕦𝕡❞

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:

⇢ hannah meets up with one of her close friends to catch up; alternatively: the fox and the quokka meet again

⇢ set in mid april 2021

𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:

⇢ conversations written in italics are spoken in english. feedback is highly appreciated!

Hannah shook her head fondly as she watched Yoonmi race down the hall towards the recording studio frequently seen on vlive. She and Yeonjun exchanged amused looks as the young girl excitedly entered the room, yelling the name of her older brother.

“Come on,” Yeonjun placed a hand on her back and sped their pace up, “or else Chan hyung’s gonna use us not being there as an excuse to stay longer.”

She scoffed at that, following Yeonjun regardless. “Please, he’d drop everything for Yoonmi anytime, and you know that.”

Yeonjun’s laugh was the only response she got as they entered the studio. The door opened immediately as they arrived in front of it, revealing Yoonmi dragging a chuckling Chan away to probably her manager’s car.

“Looks like they’ll be gone for a while,” Changbin laughed from the inside before nodding at her with a smile and turning to Yeonjun. “Let’s go before Wooyoung and Haknyeon decide to make us pay for being late.”

Yeonjun nodded and stepped out with Changbin, ruffling her hair on his way out. “See you in a bit, Hannah.

She glared at him a little before turning towards her friend who remained cleaning up the studio. They haven’t been able to see each other since their promotions overlapped. Or since the award shows, actually. “Hey, quokka.”

“Miss foxy,” Jisung playfully bowed at her before continuing to gather up his stuff, “long time no see. You hungry?”

“Always,” she playfully rolled her eyes at him, “or have you forgotten already?”

“Not when you and Yongbok have been constantly sending each other desserts. No cookies recently?”

“Yoonmi makes the best cookies, and she always sends some over to Chan hyung for you guys. Felix told me.”

The betrayed look he had on his face when he realized this made her laugh. It dawned on her that, though Chan may have told Felix to let the others get some cookies whenever they want, Felix must have kept it a secret. He loved Yoonmi’s cookies, so it was no surprise.

“He never told us!”

“Come on, let’s go eat.”

The two friends found themselves in the JYP cafeteria, food paid for with Jisung’s credits. He had a whole set of food in his tray, which was quite a drastic difference from her single bowl of salad. He frowned when he saw her tray.

“Just a salad?”

She shrugged. “We’re in the middle of promotions, so I’m dieting.”

“Nope,” he placed a plate of pasta on her tray and some extra side dishes, “your boyfriend and members are gonna kill me if I don’t feed you. Our food’s all organic, anyway. It’ll be fine. We’re sharing side dishes, by the way.”

She rolled her eyes but followed him to an empty table. They settled across from each other and began digging in. The conversation carried smoothly, as if they didn’t have a solid four or four months of not seeing each other. It switched from the food to normal catching up to preparations.

“Your comeback’s really good, by the way,” Jisung noted. “I listened to the whole album. Really good. You worked on lyrics, too!”

“Just a bit,” her tone was humble as she moved the salad around on her plate. “I thought it was fitting since it’s our first full album, so I did my best. Sorry for bothering you for help, by the way. I know you’re pretty busy with Kingdom.”

“Please,” he shook his head, “I needed the distraction. We were so caught up on preparing for the show, so I needed to forget it just a little.”

“How are you guys, by the way? I’ve seen your past few performances.” A teasing smirk made its way up to her face while she looked up from her food to meet his eyes. “I liked your cover of I’ll Be Your Man. Very impressive high notes there, mister main rapper. Very desperate.”

Jisung snorted and tossed a little sausage from their side dishes onto her plate. “Shut up, you know the performance is supposed to seem desperate.”

“What’s coming up? The collaboration stage, right?” She took a moment to recall the last episode’s ending. “It’s a shame that you guys aren’t working with The Boyz. You, Eric, and Sunwoo rapping together would have been cool.”

“You’re friends with Sunwoo?”

“We’ve met, but you already know I talk to English line the most.” She jolted up straight upon remembering something, startling Jisung into hitting his leg against the table. The boy curled in on himself a little, making her laugh. “Sorry about that. Did you hear? Changmin oppa invited me to co-host your sports day!”

That was the reason why she had been in a meeting the day before right after their schedules. She didn’t expect that she’d be brought straight to the company right after her schedules with NCT Dream, much less did she expect that she’d be meeting with a few higher ups and some Mnet staff alongside her senior for a cameo.

Jisung raised an eyebrow at her. “What? You’re coming to watch our sports day?”

“Co-host, but yeah.”

“This is gonna be so funny,” he laughed. “You know that, even if you have a boyfriend now, Juyeon hyung has an idol crush on you, right?”

“Stop!” Her hand went to her forehead in embarrassment. “Eric always mentions it whenever we talk, I swear.”

The smirk on her friend’s face sent a chill down her spine. “But there’s also Seonghwa hyung and Chani… Oh my god, man! What is it with you and these older guys, huh?”

“One more word out of your mouth, Han Jisung, and I’m telling Chan oppa that you had a crush on Yoonmi.”

Ah, yes. This short-lived crush her friend had on her other friend which amused her to no end every time he’d talk to her about how Yoonmi’s lyrics hit different, how her on stage persona is captivating, how she’s adorable in BTS content, or how her rap is unmatched by any other girl idols. Jisung, like many other fourth generation idols (and some from third generation) had fallen for the international sweetheart, and she made sure to tease him about it whenever given the chance.

Jisung groaned, “Of course I tease you about other’s having a crush on you, but you can’t tease me about people liking me.”

“Hey, if it means anything,” she began, “I used to like you the slightest bit back in late 2019 when we did those collab stages. Nothing much, it died as soon as it started, so don’t get too cocky.”

The slightly astonished look on her friends face made her remind him that it was a momentary thing rather than a prolonged crush. This, of course, didn’t stop Jisung from poking fun at her.

“Aye, I’m so telling your boyfriend,” Jisung laughed.

She gave him a pointed look. “Nothing is kept a secret in our group, and he’s in the same unit as one of the people most overprotective of me.”

The 00-liner wisely kept his mouth shut, making her laugh. A silence passed between the two before they silently agreed on not speaking about these infatuations ever again. She finished the last of her food before rummaging around her bag and pulling out a small bottle. It was something she didn’t use often, but prefered whenever she didn’t have to promote. Black nail polish.

“I brought this, by the way,” she mentioned as her phone started ringing. “I don’t know why you asked for it, but here you go.”

“Nice,” he took the bottle, “now answer your phone while I finish my food.”

The familiar face on her screen brought a subconscious smile to her face the moment she got her phone out of her pocket. It was her none other than her boyfriend, Liu Yangyang. She chuckled a little before answering the phone.

“Hey, Schnucki. I’m with Hannie right now. Jisung, say hi.”

She brought the phone closer to Jisung’s face, where he awkwardly greeted the boy on the other end of the phone. The awkwardness made her laugh and take it back. Maybe she should have waited until after he swallowed before making him say hi.

“Me again!”

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” Yangyang asked her with the slightest hint of concern in his voice. “Renjun told me you skipped out on the food your manager got you guys on the way home.”

“Hwang Injun, that snitch.” Her mumbling was easily caught by Jisung who snorted in amusement. She lightly smacked his arm from across the table then went back to her conversation. “I just ate dinner! JYP Entertainment’s special organic food is pretty filling, don’t worry.”

“Alright,” his voice sounded relieved. “How long are you gonna be there? Will you be back too late? You still have an early start tomorrow.”

She chuckled at her boyfriend’s questions. Ever since their jacket shoot, her schedule had been filled with preparations for NCT Dream’s comeback. Yangyang had been texting her good morning everyday without fail and constantly checking up on her to make sure she was still functioning properly somehow. For some reason, she found this endearing about him. He usually wouldn��t seem like that type of boyfriend, but he is.

“I’ll be here until Yoonmi finishes shopping for her future nephew and Yeonjun oppa comes back from dinner with the 99s. Hannie’s taking care of me, don’t worry.”

Jisung’s scoff from across the table made her send him a pointed look.

“Could you put me on speaker?”

“Hold on.”

One more warning look was sent towards Jisung as she placed the phone on the table. Jisung looked at her curiously before turning towards the phone.

“Yangyang?” he called out cautiously.

“Hi, Han,” Yangyang greeted. “I know we only spoke a few times, but I hope it’s not too much to ask to take care if Hannah?”

“No problem, bro,” the Stray Kids member nodded despite the fact that the WayV boy couldn’t see him. “We’ll just be here in the company, there’s a bunch of places to lounge in and a lot of food.”

There was a laugh from the other end of the phone. “Thanks for taking care of my pet fox.”

“Excuse me,” she interjected, making the two boys laugh, “I will sheer your hair off your head, you sheep.”

“Kidding! Anyway, Han, you’re Hannah’s friend, so I’m trusting her with you. As a friend, right?”

Jisung chuckled. “Of course. No need to worry.”

Hannah snatched up her phone and turned speaker off before the conversation could get any longer. “Is that it?”

“I’m at the dreamie dorm right now, so I’m expecting cuddles when you get back.”

A slight chuckle escaped her lips as she playfully rolled her eyes. “As long as you’re out of the dorms by 1:30am at the latest, okay?”

“Of course, babe.” The wink was evident in his voice, she didn’t even need to see him to know he did. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“See you later, Schnucki.”

With that, she hung up her phone and looked up to find Jisung looking at her with a teasing smile. “What?”

“You’re so whipped,” he drew out. “Honestly! The smile on your face says it all. It’s different from when you’re talking to your members or your other friends.”

“My smile?”

Looking back on it, Jeno did mention that there was something different in the way she looked at Yangyang. Donghyuck mentioned it as well while jokingly whining about her not giving him as sweet of a smile. Even Yoonmi told her that she sometimes catches Mark smiling at her the way Hannah smiles at Yangyang. Was it really that noticeable?

With a shake of her head, she picked up the black nail polish bottle once again. “What do you want to do with this?”

“Could you paint my nails?”

#hannah.hotsauce #nct 24th member #nct dream 8th member #nct female member #nct female addition #hannah #lee hannah

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harrysdimplles · 4 years

Text

a wish your heart makes

AN: it has been so long since I posted anything I don't even know if anyone is gonna read this: if you do, know that this is supposed to be a self indulgent fluffy but sad moment in time for our boy and his beloved. 2020 is hard as fuck on everyone, but they've still got each other, which is just what they need. Feedback is welcomed, and very appreciated.

or, the one with unexpected changes on Christmas time.

She felt truly pathetic, hiding in the kitchen just to have a little cry. Surely, the day granted the woman some maneuvering to be overly emotional but she had been keeping things in for years, now. She was good at it. She was fine.

Except for that very moment, looking out into the path that led to Harry's LA mansion as tears rolled down her cheeks, his voice carrying from the living room, a grainy image on a tiny screen the closest thing he had to his mum. It was just so unfair, the way that ratchet virus put the world upside down in just months. It broke her heart, cause YN knew what it felt like, being trapped away from the most important person in your life, the person you loved most. It had to be worse for her boyfriend, tho. He had to make a choice, to keep his family safe, was doing his best to act as if that didn't bother him much but...

YN could still see it, the heaviness in his eyes whenever he thought no one was looking. Could feel it, especially today. She'd give up anything to get him home, was the thing. No hesitations, just as she knew Harry would do for her. He'd trade everything he had, everything he was if it meant his girl could have one more day with her mom. Would use any wish, risk messing the future in a time travel just for a chance to see her with the person who made her who she was. He couldn't, but he would, and that certainty only made YN love him more fiercely.

"The bad news is that I still have no idea what she got us, but mum said she's making sure the cats don't mess up the wrapping, love" his arms wrapped around her as the man spoke, pulling her in. "Promised it'll be the first thing we see once we can go back home"

"Anne knows you'd spoil the surprise, babe" gripping his fingers tight, YN forced herself not to break into sobs, blinking old memories away.

"I did that once! It was yehr birthday for fuck's sake...spent weeks getting everything set so you could roam the oldest library in the world, sue me for being excited!"

"It was perfect, but with only two days left, they really thought you'd keep up the charade" she felt him tense once he spotted the tear tracks, left thumb coming up to brush the traces off.

"I'm sorry she's not here right now, lovie" he didn't even have to ask. After three years, the man knew how to spot it when things got rough "I think she is, somehow, but I'm sorry it's not the way you need her to" words mashed together as he leaned over to kiss her temple, then her close eyelids once the crying started again.

"I miss her so much, H. I miss her, I miss Anne, and Gem and I just...fucking hate that you can't be home. You have a family that's so full of love. You should be with them today" she was crying so hard at the end of the sentence YN was convinced the only thing keeping her from shattering into the ground was the way he kept her close.

Harry felt the same, his grip on her growing strong as the moments passed, tears prickling the back of his own eyes while they stood there, the world feeling like too much to bear.

"I am" he whispered, once the girl tired herself out, her breathing starting to settle again. "You're here. Yeh're my family too, silly. And I'm yours. All of me, okay?" A kiss to her hair, one to her lips, her face moving when she nodded "I miss them too, but we have each other. You're right here, the most amazing girl out there. You love me back. What more could I wish for?" each of his words rang true, coating the walls of the room of a promise.

When she couldn't help but cry again, it wasn't just for sadness.

#harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurbs #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles fic #harry styles fics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #reblog please????#my askbox is always open #harry styles au #harry styles fanfictions

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wastelandcth · 3 years

Text

We’re Going Home - cth

part of nation of two

summary: Petra reminisces on Calum’s first date mistake and how the safety of a car changed her world. Calum thinks of a place to runaway to.

author’s notes: This was a lot of fluff and me looking out the window while it rained. Enjoy!

warnings: Not much, just two lovestruck fools missing one another.

masterlist || request || previous part || next part

Calum had never been a fan of the rain. It reminded him of early mornings when he'd wake up to the rainstorms outside his window and how the ache in his bones practically begged him to stay in bed and drift off to sleep for a little while longer. The rain was just another disturbance in his life. If it rained, his soccer practice would get canceled and he'd have to walk back home, the rain soaking his clothes and weighing down his backpack. Once the band had taken off, the occasional rainstorm put another sour mood on Calum. Outdoor shows would get canceled or delayed, leaving Calum to stare out of the tour bus window as rain droplets raced to the bottom of the windows. If the rainstorm was severe enough, planes he needed to take would get grounded until the storm passed and he wouldn't catch his connecting flight. The rain also meant that sometimes plans he had that included Calum being outside would end with him soaked and left shivering, his bones aching for warmth and dryness the rain usually scared away. The rain outside of Calum's hotel window filled him with a sadness he couldn't quite explain. Maybe it was the fact that the tour had been taking a toll on his body and that he missed his bed and his mug he always used in the mornings while at home.

Or maybe it was the fact that Petra was showing him the view from whatever restaurant she'd been eating at.

"I'm telling you, the second you've settled back in here at home, I'm taking you here and you're going to eat the best french toast you've ever had," Petra said, her camera showing the Pacific Ocean in all it's vastness.

Calum had never been one for jealousy. But as he watched the blue sky and blue ocean on his screen, his body ached with a want to be there next to the woman he loved. He'd do anything to be sitting next to Petra at a cafe, eating amazing french toast and watching the ocean waves. He would do anything to be next to her, holding her hand and listening to her laugh about the way the birds seem to hover above their table in order to steal a french fry or two. So yes, Calum was jealous.

As Petra looked out at the ocean, from where she'd been sat enjoying a glass of ice tea, she couldn't help but chuckle at herself. She'd been trying to get out more and more these days. With Calum gone, she wouldn't have to worry much about having to stop whenever Calum was spotted by fans and waiting for them to chat for a bit before continuing their errands. She'd gotten used to the dates she'd go on with herself, eventually timing them out so that she'd be able to talk to Calum for at least a few minutes before he'd be whisked off to his next engagement with the band. Their first date had also been close to disastrous, according to Calum who told Petra later on, because of his band's engagements. But Petra had just laughed and assured Calum second chances were worth giving.

Petra had arrived at the coffee shop a few minutes early, wanting to save a secluded table for both her and Calum. She knew who he was, of course, she knew who Calum Hood was, and she assumed he'd want privacy when it came to things like first dates. so arriving a few minutes early to get the table near the back of the coffee shop was just something she'd wanted to do for him. The coffee shop had been one that Petra had only been to once when she'd gotten lost after a wrong turn and had ended up in the neighborhood. The outside of the building was a white brick, reminding Petra a lot of those old western stores in the movies.

The inside of the coffee shop, which had smelled of fresh coffee and pastries, had large lamps overhead, giving the already bright building an even brighter indoors. The dark green tiles and dark wood accents around the inside were calming, feeling like a place where Petra could sit down for hours and read a book. Usually, she'd bring a book with her wherever she went, but she had left her most recent read in the backseat of her car, not expecting to have much time to read while out on a date. She'd be too busy getting to know the man with pretty brown eyes who she knew was talented enough to get anyone he wanted, and yet he still chose to invite her out to coffee.

"So, Petra, what do you think about coffee?" he'd asked over the phone one day.

They'd been doing this for a while now, talking over the phone during the slow moments of the day where each other's company was comfortable. Petra had learned a lot about Calum during the soft voices exchanged over phone calls. She'd learned that his favorite snack at the moment was fruit gummies even if it made him sound childish, which it didn't. She'd learned that he'd been busy writing a new album with his band and that usually meant he'd disappear off the face of the earth for a couple of days when inspiration hit, but he'd always try and send her a picture or funny meme to let her know he was still very much alive. Petra had learned that Calum, although usually quiet and reserved according to himself, could talk for hours about anything that crossed his mind during those moments in their calls.

"I don't think I'm well versed in coffee if I'm honest," Petra had admitted, "I never know what to order whenever I do end up at a coffee shop."

"Well, how about we go out and find your drink? I know a great spot where we can start," Calum said happily, "You up for it?"

"Yeah, that sounds fun, as long as I don't develop a caffeine addiction," she teased and looked over at her calendar, "How about Wednesday?"

"It's a date."

And it was almost a date, except for the fact that Petra had sat at the coffee shop for almost an hour and had yet to see Calum. Sure, LA was known for having horrible traffic and Petra herself had gotten stuck in it while on her way to the shop, but an hour with no text or calls from Calum had just made her cranky and annoyed. She'd ordered a coffee by herself, regretting her choice as soon as the bitter liquid hit her tongue, and had forced herself to finish it before she eventually decided to call the date done and over with. The walk back to her car had been quick, her head throbbing with annoyance and a hint of embarrassment. She'd been halfway home when her phone rang, Calum's name played across the screen.

"Petra, I'm so sorry!" Calum breathed out, "I know I said I'd been there almost two hours ago but things got crazy at the studio and I know that sounds shitty but I hope you can forgive me and maybe I can make it up to you!"

If Petra had known Calum at least a little less than she did, she would've never picked up the call, she would've let him go to voicemail and maybe not even call him back ever. But she knew Calum wouldn't have stood her up on purpose and she knew that if they really were going to make something more of their phone calls and occasional flirting over text, she'd have to understand what his job entailed sometimes. She was an adult, she knew dating meant sometimes people make mistakes and that working around them was what would make it worth it in the end.

"Calum, it's...I'm not going to say it's fine because I would've appreciated even just a text saying what was happening,' she sighed, "But maybe we can try again soon, yeah? I had a pretty shitty coffee again, which I am blaming on you," she said with a teasing tone, hoping that Calum caught on to it.

"How about tonight?" Calum asked, his voice hesitant as if he was expecting rejection, "I could pick you up and we can just drive around, maybe pick up some of those burgers you were telling me about? I promise to be on time."

Petra had ended up agreeing to his second first date proposal because he sounded genuine and she couldn't help the flutter in her heart at the mention of the burgers. She'd told Calum about them almost a month ago and knowing he'd remember such a small detail made her a little more hopeful about this working out after all.

"I'll text you my address," Petra chuckled out, "Drive safe, okay?"

Calum's car, which would become a haven for them both at different times in the future, was quiet as they both looked out at the city lights. Their stomachs were full, the burgers and french fries they'd shared making their silence a comfortable one. Calum had profusely apologized the second that Petra's door had opened, the bouquet of flowers in his arms a peace treaty as both of them rode off into the evening.

"The flowers, they're from the same flower shop?" Petra asked as she glanced over at Calum. who'd been focusing on the road.

"Oh, um, yeah," Calum chuckled, "Apparently the cashier and manager were taking bets to see if we'd gather the nerves to go on a date or not," he mumbled, his cheeks flushing as he turned his head to look at her, "Had to tell them about tonight."

"Bets?" Petra laughed and shook her head, "Cherly and Carly, right? The one with the curly hair? She practically bullied me into telling her what had happened when we met," she teased.

The date, which had gone off without another problem or disastrous time issue, had been the most fun Petra had ever had since she'd joined the dating scene in LA. She hadn't expected such a relaxing way to spend her evening to be with an international rock star like Calum. She'd laughed so hard her ribs hurt and had sung out loud in the car with him until her throat was sore. By the end of the night, when the safety of Calum's car had come to an end and the driveway to Petra's house was in view, they both sat in comfortable silence. The engine of the car, which hummed quietly between them, the only noise around as they both glanced at each other.

"I had a lot of fun tonight, I'm glad we did this," Petra said softly, breaking the silence and smiling as she saw the relieved look that washed over Calum's face.

"I'm glad we did too. Again, sorry about earlier today," Calum mumbled and sighed, shaking his head.

"Oh, it's fine, really. Just make sure I get to hear whatever masterpiece you came up with first, yeah?" she teased, leaning over the center console to press a kiss onto his cheek, "Text me when you get home, okay? Drive safe!"

Calum listened to the familiar ring playing from the speaker of his phone, waiting for Petra to pick up. His eyes were busy, focused on the mirror in front of him as he tried to deal with the unruly curls he’d let grow out after Petra insisted on seeing how long they could get. He was halfway across the world, in a hotel he couldn’t pronounce the name of, but it was his last morning there and Petra had no idea that by this time tomorrow he’d be back in her arms. After weeks and weeks of being away, promoting an album that would change the band’s sound and image, Calum was going home to be with his girlfriend. He’d be leaving gloomy Europe, with rainstorms that never seemed to end and accents that he had trouble understanding at times, for the endless sunshine and love that LA had recently shown him.

“Hi gorgeous,” Petra chuckled as she picked up the phone, “You’re calling quite early for someone who went to bed four hours ago,” she teased.

“Hi Pebble,” Calum teased, the nickname earning him a groan from across an ocean, “I missed my girlfriend, couldn’t sleep without your snores.”

“I’ll hang up if you’re just going to tease me,” she threatened with a light laugh, “I miss you too, bub, only a few more days though!”

“Yeah, you better be ready for me to be stuck to your side for weeks,” he mumbled and chuckled, zipping up his toiletries bag and picking his phone up off the counter, “I’m expecting an amazing brunch spot reservation.”

“Oh you know me, I’ve got all the connections,” she laughed quietly, “Do you have a busy day today?”

“Mhm, a lot of interviews,” Calum mumbled, his shoulder holding his phone up against his ear as he finished packing the rest of his thumb up, “I’m not sure when I’ll be able to call you again until tomorrow.”

“That’s fine,” Petra said, the smile evident in the way her voice rose, “You know I’ll still send you an endless amount of pictures and memes.”

“And I love you for it,” Calum chuckled, “I’ve got to go now, but I’ll talk to you soon?”

“Of course, have a nice day! Blow them away, bub!” she said happily, her voice warming Calum’s body at the thought that he’d be with her so soon.

“Will do, Pebbles,” he smirked, laughing quietly as Petra kept her word and hung up the call.

The ride from the airport back home had been a blur to Calum. All he recalled was stuffing his bags into the back and buckling up, the bright skies and warm weather making him regret the hoodie and thick beanie he’d worn to try and hide from the prying eyes. If he wanted his surprise to truly work, he would need to remain unseen in public. But by the time the car had turned onto the familiar street of his neighborhood, Calum began to squirm in his seat, the excitement of being so close to Petra overcoming him. The car had barely stopped before Calum was unbuckled and out, his bags dragging behind him as he threw out a thank you to his driver as he ran to the front door. The light, which was usually off by the time morning came, was still on; acting as a guiding light for Calum to know that he was truly home.

His key unlocked the front door, leading him into the house he’d begun to call home soon after Petra had come into it, and he was met by the familiar bark of his old dog. Setting his bags down by the entrance, Calum toed off his shoes and pulled off the hoodie that had kept his warmth contained within him. His back ached from the long flight and he was starving, his tummy rumbling at the thought of food, but that wouldn’t stop him from crouching down and petting his dog as he waddled over to him. Duke’s tail wagged from side to side so quickly it was a blur of black and white, his paws landing on Calum’s thighs as he sniffed Calum making sure it was really him. Calum had been so busy greeting his best friend and kissing his stinky head that he hadn’t heard the footsteps coming from the hallways.

“Duke, I’m sure it was just the mail person again, or the neighbor walking their pup,” Petra mumbled, her eyes widening as she was met with the sight of her boyfriend standing in front of her, “C-Calum?”

“Hi baby,” Calum grinned, straightening his back out and looking at her with wide eyes, “Surprise!”

Calum hadn’t had the chance to say much else, the force of Petra running into his arms and hugging him had knocked the breath out of him. His arms wrapped themselves around her waist and pulled her even closer, if that was possible, and Calum’s nose nuzzled against the top of her head. They stayed like that for a few minutes, breathing one another in, making sure that they were both truly in the same room again and this wasn’t some cruel dream they’d both wake up from alone in a bed oceans apart. Petra had been the first one to pull away, her eyes meeting Calum’s before she’d cupped his face in her hands and pulled him in for a kiss.

“I missed you so much,” she mumbled, leaving kisses in between her words, “What’re you doing here? I thought you still had a few days?”

“I missed you too,” Calum chuckled and smiled, “A few interviews were canceled and they sent us home early. I just got in about an hour ago.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so glad to have you back,” she whispered and nodded, pulling him into another kiss that left Calum giggling against her.

“I am too.”

Something Calum loved about the ocean was the vastness of it. Sure, he was absolutely terrified of the secrets it held and the fact that much of it was unexplored, but sitting on the hood of his car with Petra by his side as they both stared out at the waves made of all worth it. After a shower and a much needed snack, Petra and Calum had made their way over to the brunch spot that overlooked the ocean. After a lot of french fries and kisses shared between the two of them, the drive to the ocean was peaceful, both of them taking each other in. By the time they had made it onto the beach, the sunny skies were covered in a fog of clouds. It would be Calum’s luck, after all, to have the rain follow him wherever he went.

“Do you think it’ll rain?” Petra asked, her eyes meeting Calum’s even through the dark sunglasses they both wore.

“I hope not, I thought I had escaped the rain,” Calum teased and pulled her close, “Come on, let’s walk in the sand a bit.”

With hands held tightly, their arms swaying as they strolled down the dandy beach, Calum found himself at peace. The past couple of weeks away had left him wanting more from his relationship and wanting to do more for Petra. In the past, the mere thought of a future with someone would’ve had Calum running for the hills. But with Petra it all made sense, he wanted to be by her side every day, to see her go through her day and be there to make her smile. As the first few droplets of rain fell from the sky, he realized that this future, the one with Petra, was all he’d been missing. Their stroll was cut short, much to Calum’s displeasure when the curtains of rain got closer and closer. The waves roared next to them, the ocean alive and ever more powerful as the rainstorm above them finally let go.

Calum looked over at Petra, who had tugged on his hand and before Calum knew it, they were both racing back to the car. The sand hadn’t made it easier for them to run, both of them stumbling as they raced through the beach in fits of laughter. By the time they’d both shut their doors and panted out breaths, they were completely drenched and looked as if they had jumped onto the ocean itself. They sat in silence watching the view outside of the safety of the car. Watching the waves crash onto the ocean and battle with the clouds above them that were spewing out rain. It was all so violent and sudden, but Calum’s eyes shifted to watch Petra.

He watched as her eyes widened, watching the storm in awe as his chest rose and fell with each breath she took. He watched as her hand ran through the curls, that not even the rain could mess with, trying to shake the water out of them. She was beautiful without even having to try and Calum was out of breath. But Calum didn’t mind, not at all, because Petra could make even the thing he hated the most a beautiful sight.

“We should run away to Sydney for a bit,” he mumbled quietly, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as Petra’s eyes met his, “I want you to meet my family.”

join my taglist: @hoodhoran @moonlightcriess @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lowkeyflop @conversecake @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @ashtonsunflower @2fangirl4u @multistann @wiiildflowerrr @himbohood @in-superbloom @ashtonsunflower @suchalonelysunflower @killmywildflower @sebsbrokentoe @nicebasscalum @itwouldburnupintheatmosphere @mikelitorisdotcom @letmereadpls @hardcandyhemmo

#calum hood x reader #calum hood x oc #calum hood blurbs #calum hood imagines #calum hood fics #5sos x reader #5sos x oc #5sos blurbs #5sos imagines #5sos fics #5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #gemma writes #calum hood fanfic #5sos fanfic #nation of two cth

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onewithnomightypowers · 3 years

Text

clandestine (chapter 2)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

chapter 2: portrait of a dinner

A/N: the characters in no way portray how these ppl are in real life. i do not encourage cheating. i hope you guys like this chapter!! i would love to know how you guys feel about the story. feedback is always appreciated.

warnings: drinking, smoking, cursing

word count: 1.6k

important: the whole chapter is a flashback, character thoughts are in bold italics

masterlist series masterlist chapter 1 chapter 3

“I rent a place on Cornelia street”, Tom said casually in the car. They were sitting in the backseat of a black town car, going for their shoot. Y/N had suggested that they travel together, in an attempt to get to know each other better. She said, “It would help with the on screen chemistry”, the whole production team agreed. But that did not become a norm for them, mostly because of their different call times.

Both of them had hectic filming schedules and only saw each other when they had scenes together. Sometimes they would bump into each other at the craft service, but otherwise, they were on their own.

During the last few weeks of filming, Tom had started getting her coffee. He had noticed how she took her coffee during the shooting. Black with one sugar.

“There you go”, Tom handed her the coffee. “Thanks Tom.” He gave her a smile. She was walking towards the door, and Tom started following her behind.

“I’m going to hair and makeup, do you wanna tag along?” she asked him.

“Sure, I have a 15 minute break anyway”

“Have you seen Hot Rod? I watched it last night” she didn’t know why she asked that silly question. She found it embarrassing.

“That Andy Samberg movie, right?” Tom nodded, “Yeah I watched it a long time ago, it’s a classic”

“I totally watched it for Bill Hader” She found herself easing up to him.

“Valid reason. Loved him on SNL. Do you know Stefon? from SNL?” She reached for the door handle, a gush of cold air was felt by both of them.

“Don’t even get me started on Stefon. I used to watch Stefon compilations on YouTube all the time. It became a problem” she chuckled, remembering how Haz used to get pissed off whenever she’d talk in a ‘Stefon’ tone.

Oh, I love it when she chuckles like that. I wish I could kiss her. NO. She is fucking married, Tom.

“Yes yes yes, New York’s hottest club is…” Tom tried to imitate Bill Hader as Stefon. He looked around a bit and pointed towards the paparazzi, who were trying to take pictures of anything worth money. “New York’s hottest club is paparazzi” he continued.

“If paparazzi is the hottest club, then I’m fine staying at home” Y/N was laughing so hard that she couldn’t breathe. She clutched Tom’s arm to avoid falling down while trying to contain her laughter. She hadn’t had a good laugh with Haz in a long time.

Tom found himself at Y/N’s doorsteps with cheap wine he bought from the convenience store last minute. Y/N had invited Tom and his partner for dinner during the last week of shooting.

“Oh, I’m not seeing anyone actually, but my lonely heart and I will be there”, Tom replied to Y/N’s invitation.

He rang the bell and waited for someone to open the door. Tom was met by Haz’ charming smile, as he opened the door. Tom could see right through his fake smile. Clueless to Y/N and Haz’ fight prior, he entered the two story building.

“Why did you invite him without asking me?” Haz screamed, slamming the plates on the table.

“I didn’t think you’d be home tonight, you never are” Y/N replied in the same tone as Haz

“So you were going to have dinner with him, alone?”

“Yes” she said in a crude way.

“Are you fucking him?” Just as Haz asked her, the doorbell rang.

It would be better fucking him than fucking you. At least he’ll be home.

Y/N entered the kitchen leaving Haz to open the door. “You must be Tom” said Haz, in his most likeable voice.

“Yeah and you must be Haz. I got this for you guys”, Tom handed him the wine bottle.

He’s a bloody hotshot and brought us cheap wine.

“Hey Tom, I’m so glad you could make it”, Y/N said, taking Tom in for a hug. She could feel Haz burning a hole behind her head with his gaze.

She pulled out of the hug, “do you want red or white wine?”

“Red”, Harrison and Tom said in unison. Y/N let out a little chuckle and went into the kitchen. Tom started noticing the little things in their house, like how there were film and Polaroid cameras scattered everywhere. There was a vinyl shelf right above an old golden gramophone, adjacent to their brown leather couch.

He noticed a collage of pictures and recognised some of the photos from the time they were taken on set. There was one with him and Y/N. He felt a sense of pride knowing that their picture hung on Y/N’s wall and the possibility of her looking at it every day.

“So, what do you wanna hear?” Harrison was standing next to their vinyl collection. “Since Y/N lives here, we have everything Taylor Swift, I don’t suppose you’re into that pop shit, are you?”

“Actually I do like pop but more like alt-pop”

Harrison wasn’t surprised. He seemed like a ‘Beach House’ kinda guy anyway, to him.

“So you like alt-pop?” Y/N walked towards the boys with two glasses of red wine in her hands. “Have you heard of ‘peter cat recording co.’?” she asked Tom

“Yes I have! Oh, I thought nobody knew about them. I’m glad I found you”, Tom was filled with giddy excitement.

“PCRC it is, then”, Haz said in an annoyed tone. He grabbed the vinyl of ‘portrait of a time’, their first album, and placed it on the gramophone.

“Babe, where is your glass?” Haz asked Y/N.

“Oh I, shit I left it in the kitchen”

“No worries I’ll get it”, Haz kissed her cheek and left the living room.

Even though Y/N knew it was fake niceties, she still craved it. It felt nice, behaving like a normal couple instead of fighting over every damn thing, and him storming out of the house almost every night. Sometimes she felt that Harrison was a hypocrite. He would accuse her of cheating with every guy in her life, but wouldn’t be home nine out of ten times.

They were now seated on their wooden dining table, with dried flowers in the middle. Haz and Y/N were sitting opposite to Tom. There was Chinese takeout in their fancy china.

“Sorry about the take out, neither of us are good at cooking and we didn’t want you getting sick”, Y/N tried to justify the absence of a home cooked meal.

“It’s fine as long as I’m getting fed”, Tom chuckled.

“No actually all this food is only for Y/N and me”, Haz said, trying to sound serious.

That was a bad joke, all of them thought.

There was an awkward silence. Haz cleared his throat, “So Y/N, are you seeing someone?”

“Haz, you can’t just ask someone that!”

“It’s okay Y/N. No Haz, I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.” Tom said, blushing at the personal question.

“So you are single”, Haz said looking at Y/N, in an attempt to imply that she might be having an affair with him.

Trying to hide her annoyance, Y/N started serving the food. The rest of the dinner was normal. They talked about the movie and Haz did not spontaneously combust. In Y/N’s mind, it was near to a success. When Tom started to leave, Y/N offered to drop him to his apartment building, but he settled on walking him one block.

Y/N grabbed her jacket as they left the house. She pulled out a box of cigarettes from her pocket and offered Tom.

“Oh, I don’t smoke”

Y/N scuffed with a cigarette between her teeth.

“What kind of an English man are you?” she said, lighting her cigarette.

“Well you know it’s a common misconception, we don’t all smoke”

“That’s good to know”, she took a long drag.

“Also you might not like the wine I brought you. I realised pretty late that I should be getting you something because I was visiting your house for the first time, so I bought the best wine I could find in that convenience store”, he pointed towards the store a few metres away from them.

“Its fine, it’ll remind me of my youth”, they both laughed.

“I guess this is one block, you should go back home now”, Tom said while trying hail a cab by waving his right hand frantically, at the edge of the curb. He looked ridiculous.

“You clearly have never done this before” she laughed at him, turning Tom’s face red.

She stepped off the curb, to be seen clearly by the oncoming traffic, put out her arm and a cab was there in seconds.

“So I guess I’ll see you around” he said while pulling Y/N into a hug.

His touch made her hyper aware and same could be said for Tom. Y/N started to pull out but stopped half way. It felt like they were both looking inside each other’s soul through their eyes.

“Ay, lovebirds, you comin or not”, the cab driver screamed making them break away. He got in and Y/N closed the door for him. That’s when her phone pinged.

Haz: where are you, I’m going out.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland self insert #clandestine #harrison osterfeild x reader #harrison osterfield #marvel #marvel fanfiction #spiderman x reader #spiderman #taylor swift

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firefly-in-darkness · 4 years

Text

Dream A Little Dream

Characters → Y/N & Dean Winchester.

Summary → Y/N has always daydreamed of Dean being more than a friend regardless of knowing she wasn’t his type. Is she going to be able to keep her feelings in check when they pretend to be a couple in their hunt for a witch?

Word Count → 2.9k

Warnings → 18+, a little bit of angst, low self-esteem, fluff. Sexy things. Happy ending.

Beta → @princessmisery666 & @daydream3r-xo // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This is my Secret Santa fic for @spnsecretsantaficexchange & this story is being gifted to @waywardnerd67 who asked for a friends to lovers, only one bed & plus size reader fic - I hope you enjoy this lovely!

Masterlist

Dean Winchester: a man full of love for the world that didn’t appreciate him. He was a hunter, hero, and saviour. Not that he’d ever call himself anything like that, he was too modest. It was just the family business, saving people, hunting things. And Y/N was lucky, or not so lucky, to experience all of this with him. As his friend.

Even if it pained Y/N to be near Dean; his charm, his sense of humour, his body, his warmth, all she wanted was to have him closer. Have them be skin to skin, holding onto another tightly in a lover’s embrace. All Y/N wanted was for him to hold her tight, to whisper that he loved her. But she realised, a long time ago, that Dean Winchester would never see her as anything other than a friend.

The sight of Dean flirting his way across the towns they visited, and the types of women he had fallen into bed with, made it clear that all they’d ever be was friends. He acted so candidly with these beautiful creatures and Y/N would never compare to them. Y/N didn’t look anything like the women he was interested in, she wasn’t his type in the slightest. Dean never looked at her with lust or directed that cheeky smirk her way.

Y/N had long ago settled for the relationship that they had, it had to be enough. She had to stop daydreaming about Dean and if there were more meaning to the way he pulled her into a shoulder hug after a successful hunt. The way he tended to the wounds across her body as if she was a delicate flower about to wilt at the feel of a heavy hand. Or how he’d kiss the top of her head as she drifted to sleep against his shoulder as he drove the Impala.

Those were the most intimate moments, and it had her clutching to the idea of him being more than a fellow hunter and companion. Those sweet daydreams were enough to let all worries disappear and bring her hope. If only he dreamed a little dream of me.

In reality, Y/N would only be Dean’s friend, and that was final. She tucked away her feelings into the smallest part of her being, locked and hidden from everyone. Because, to have a small amount of love from Dean, even if platonic, was enough.

Y/N had learnt to distract herself, to steer away from the daydreaming and getting lost in his beautiful eyes. She’d preoccupy herself with a game on her phone whenever Dean appeared looking dashing or when he’d stepped out of a steaming shower; his glistening torso and the loosely wrapped towel had been a long tormented situation until she learnt to avoid looking his way.

Coffee would be buzzing through her system so that she didn’t fall asleep unexpectedly against him and when injuries occurred, she began dealing with them on her own just to avoid his touch. It wasn’t so bad to do it by herself, she’d done it before. But, as much as Y/N tried to avoid Dean, it was inevitable that something would come to test her.

It came in the form of Dean’s idea of pretending to be a couple in a restaurant in the hope of catching the witch causing havoc in the small town in the middle of nowhere. Y/N told yourself over and over - ‘this isn’t real, we are just friends.’ But nothing prepared her for the moment she walked into the motel room. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind as they left Sam at the bunker and travelled across state lines for the next hunt.

Y/N’s eyes blew wide at the sight before her. One bed. One fucking bed.

Dean was completely oblivious to the conflict that raged in Y/N’s head and went straight into the bathroom. At least it gave Y/N some privacy and a moment to breathe. But how could she when her mind swam with hundreds of thoughts all at once? It was like the gods were playing a cruel trick. How were they going to sleep in the same bed, together? And how could she possibly even sleep with him lying next to her? The running water of the shower did little to discourage the more intimate thoughts.

To quiet the voices in her head, she took a seat and looked through the little research that Dean had gathered. The distraction worked for a while, at least until he returned to the room in his loungewear and inspected the suit that Y/N had hung up neatly. She watched him with incredulous disbelief as he grabbed the remote for the television before he climbed onto the bed.

Dean settled back on the mattress, flicked through the channels until he found something decent to watch and placed his arms at the back of his head.

He turned his gaze to her, “are you going to just sit there or join me?”

Y/N frowned, “shouldn’t we ask for a different room and do some more research?”

Dean’s focus had already returned to the television, “this is the only room available. We haven’t got to do anything until this evening so just relax.”

Reasoning with herself that if Dean thought it was a problem then he’d say something, she took the spot beside him and lost herself in the drama unfolding on the small screen at the foot of the bed. It was the first time in a long time that she felt relaxed around the older Winchester, even if she was worried about sinking back into old habits.

The opaque garment bag was hooked to the back of the bathroom door, Y/N could see it in the corner of her eye as she readjusted the towel around her body and continued to finish her makeup in the small mirror. It felt like the dress was taunting her, it wasn’t something she’d usually wear, and it had made her feel self-conscious from the moment she pulled it out of the depths of the wardrobe back at the bunker.

The zip on the bag got stuck and almost caught the fabric of the navy dress inside but once it was out of the plastic cover, Y/N inspected it for any tears, but it all seemed to be okay. With the dress now on full display, she backed away and perched on the closed toilet seat. She was stepping into new territory and needed a moment to process it.

Y/N had worn the dress once before, about two years ago. She’d become stuck in her ways and used to the comfort of jeans or leggings paired with baggy tops. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the dress, it’s just that she knew that it would look and feel different compared to before.

What if it shows all my lumps and bumps? I’m going to look pathetic compared to Dean, will anyone believe that we are on a date? Doubt it.

A light knock on the door brought Y/N’s attention back to the reality of getting ready for their hunt and date. The towel was discarded to the floor and she pulled the dress over her head, hoping not to smudge her makeup.

Dean spoke, his voice muffled through the door panel, “we’ve got to go in ten minutes.”

“Just a minute,” Y/N replied and finished adjusting the thin straps and smoothed out the skirt of the mid-length dress.

With one final look in the mirror and a deep breath, she opened the bathroom door.

Y/N had never imagined this would be how the evening would go; sitting in a fine restaurant with Dean Winchester - he was the perfect date, even if it wasn’t a real one. She couldn’t help but wonder if this is what Dean was really like on a date. That Y/N might have caught a glimpse of what it would be like to get his attention.

After three glasses of wine and their delicious meal, the pair of them remained out of luck; there was no sign of the witch or potential victims. Dean paid for their dinner, even after Y/N’s protests to split the check.

The stroll back to the Impala was enough time for Y/N’s thoughts to turn negative. It was as if the second they walked out of the restaurant that reality came crashing down around her. It wasn’t a real date and it never would be because she was not Dean’s type. Y/N didn’t look like those women and she never would, no matter how she looked tonight. It’s not what Dean wanted.

Y/N sunk into the cold leather, it stung against her exposed skin; goosebumps rose across her flesh until the heavy material of Dean’s jack was draped over her. The action made Y/N flinch as she hadn’t realised how close Dean was until he was gone.

“Thank you,” was all she could muster, “and for tonight.”

He smiled softly, “you’re welcome.”

Dean pulled up outside the motel room but neither of them rushed to leave. Hope blossomed in Y/N’s heart, that just maybe Dean didn’t want this to end either. That thought bashed away all the negatives as he turned in his seat. His eyes roamed her face for a moment and a lopsided grin formed. His eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that Y/N adored.

His smile reminded her of the ones he’d given to many women over the years, but this one seemed different; there was a glint in his eyes that made Y/N question if those other smiles weren’t genuine. That this one was real.

“D’ya know it’s been over four years since we met.” He looked back out into the almost empty parking lot before Y/N could nod in response, “and guess what today is?”

Y/N looked at him in confusion, today was no different to any other day. Except, it would be forever etched in her heart as the day she almost went on a date with Dean Winchester and lived to tell the tale.

Dean continued to look out into the dark sky, the stars shining brightly above them, mixed in with the glow of the motel lights.

“It’s been a year since we took down that vampire nest in New Orleans,” Dean mentioned.

Vampires and New Orleans was a whirlwind hunt; one which left Y/N with severe injuries. Nothing was broken but the blow to her ribs had been enough for her to be winded and have heavy bruising for weeks. Y/N ended up on bed rest at the Bunker for at least a month before Sam and Dean allowed her to go on another hunt.

Dean sighed, his head rolling over to look at Y/N once more, “a year since I realised something.”

A shiver ran over her body from the way his voice dropped lower and could barely say more than a whisper as she got lost in his emerald gaze, “what was that?”

“That you mean a lot to me,” Dean responded, not a fleck of a waiver in his tone.

In the dim light of the lamps, his hand nudged along the seat of Baby towards Y/N’s. At the sight of the intimate gesture, she slid her hand closer. Y/N’s body hummed with butterflies as his fingers laced over her own. This wasn’t a dream or a fantasy, this was real.

Y/N glanced up to see Dean was already looking at her intently and that’s when she realised, she hadn’t said anything, “you mean a lot to me too Dean.”

A sigh fell from Dean’s plump lips before he leant forward and cupped her cheek with his other hand. Within a heartbeat, Dean’s face neared Y/N’s, eyes closing on instinct as she awaited his kiss.

Dean’s lips softly brushed against her own, a ghost of a kiss, then he pecked a little harder while his thumb caressed the apple of her cheek. Even though Y/N couldn’t believe this was happening, she wasn’t going to hold back any longer and as he pulled away, she gripped the back of his neck and pressed her mouth harder against him.

Y/N poured every ounce of her feelings into it, shifting closer to him and running her hands through his short hair as his arm wrapped around her waist. A flicker of his tongue across her bottom lip and his hand stroking down her back sent a wave of pleasure to her aching core.

A soft moan escaped Y/N’s mouth as he massaged the flesh of her ass, giving his tongue a chance to explore her further. The urgency of the kiss heightened as she shifted to straddle his lap but before she had a chance to move Dean pulled away, his hands settling on her biceps.

“I think we should slow down. Can we at least go inside?” Dean asked.

Her head fell back in laughter, and with a nod, Dean pulled Y/N out of the car and towards the motel room. As he fiddled with the lock, something dawned on her; why did he wait a year to tell her? The creaking of the door and the tug on his hand had her following behind.

“Now, where were we?” Dean pulled Y/N close to him, her hands resting against his broad chest.

“I think you were going to tell me why you waited so long to do anything?” She raised her brow at him and tapped his chest with her index finger.

Dean smirked and took a seat at the edge of the bed, patting his thigh for Y/N to join him. Y/N bit her lip and perched on Dean’s knee, arms wrapping around his neck while Dean held her close around the waist, one of his hands stroking her hip. The sensation was driving her wild, but she wanted to know why he hadn’t made a move before now.

“I did sweetheart,” Dean kept his focus on her eyes, “you responded to everything, I was going to do something about it once I knew for sure but then I noticed you had started hanging out with Sam or throwing yourself into research. I thought I’d read everything wrong and that’s when I thought that maybe you were pulling away.”

Y/N listened to every word, nodding for him to continue as her heart raced at his confession; all those moments were real. Not only had Dean been feeling the same way, but he’d also been daydreaming about her too.

“I honestly thought you felt the same way when you fell asleep next to me when we watched that show you like, erm-” Dean paused, his brow scrunching together.

Y/N could see the cogs ticking and chuckled because she knew exactly what he was talking about and wanted to see if he knew, give him the chance to win this moment.

“-Gossip Girl!” He grinned at his triumph, “yeah, you turned over and your hand grabbed mine. Well, it meant a lot.”

“And then you set this up?” Y/N asked with a slight smirk on her lips and a raised eyebrow.

Dean pulled back, his face blank at first, only for a blush to form across his freckled cheeks, “how did you know?”

Y/N’s hands tugged at his collar, loosening the tie, “well, for starters, you did the research.”

He rolled his eyes and then focused on Y/N once more as her fingers made light work of the buttons. Following her lead, he found the zipper at the back of the dress, tugging it down slowly. Excitement pooled in Y/N’s belly and her skin simmered with pleasure at his actions.

“Then, you didn’t want to snoop around the restaurant.” Y/N stood up, letting the dress drop to the ground.

The confidence in her appearance grew tenfold as Dean’s eyes darkened at her matching lacy underwear and the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. She stepped out of the dress and heels, dropping to her knees in front of Dean and unbuckled his belt.

“Not only that, but there are no other cars in the parking lot and a bright ‘vacancies’ sign outside.”

With her bottom lip brought between her teeth, she glanced up at Dean, “which means that you planned all of this.”

Y/N gripped the slacks at his hips and tugged them down, exposing the hard length that tented his boxers. She couldn’t help the way her mouth watered at the sight of him above her but before she could reach to pull down his boxers, Dean had gripped her arms and pulled her up to his level.

“Well done smarty-pants, now come here.”

Dean’s lips crashed to hers, a fever of pleasure and affection dripping from the kiss as they collapsed back onto the mattress. Their bodies tangled together, heat radiated from them both as they grasped at limbs and kissed without abandon.

That night, they started making up for the year that they had missed out on. The year that they’d both been too hesitant, lost in their daydreams instead of basking in the reality of their love.

Everything Tag List: @reann-loves-sebstan / @thefridgeismybestie / @kitkatd7 / @harold321

Supernatural Tag List: @deanwanddamons / @akshi8278

SPN Pond Tag List: @manawhaat @aprofoundbondwithdean @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle-spn-con-blog @notnaturalanahi @deanscarlett @whispersandwhiskerburn @roxy-davenport @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @frenchybell @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @deansleather @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @mrswhozeewhatsis @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @deantbh @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @memariana91 @plaidstiel-wormstache @chelsea-winchester @becs-bunker @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobsessed @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @zombitch-inthemegacoven @maraisabellegrey-blog @faith-in-dean @winchestscanersmolder @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @winchester-family-buisness @there-must-be-a-lock @just-another-winchester @emoryhemsworth @cas-backwards-tie @sierra-grace1227 @flamewncaaaaaaaasodiva @kalesrebellion @emilyshurley @deanwanddamons @ellewritesfix05 @idreamofplaid @emptycanvasposts @kickingitwithkirk

#Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester Fic #Dean Winchester Fluff

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

Stereo Hearts

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Denki Kaminari, Kyoka Jiro

Hello, everyone! It is my pleasure to present my story for the @kmjr-mini-bang! A super big thanks to my partner @chiztec who drew an absolutely stunning piece to accompany my story, as well as Amii and nish, who were kind enough to beta my story. I hope you all enjoy the finished product!

Denki sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He laid on his bed, thumbs twiddling as his hands were clasped over his stomach. His worried gaze could have bored holes into the ceiling if he had the right Quirk. He felt a little silly, fretting so relentlessly over something as simple as a high school graduation. For most students, it was a time of excitement, a chapter of transition in their lives as they went bungling on into adulthood. Denki was eagerly looking forward to getting out there and showing the world what Chargebolt could do. Adulthood wasn’t exactly what he was worried about.

He hadn’t told Kyoka that he loved her yet.

“Jeez, that sounds right out of some corny chick flick,” he groaned and rubbed his palms over his eyes. He grimaced as nervous sweat smeared across his face. He flopped his arms back down against the bed with another forlorn exhale, eyes lidded as he envisioned the beautiful, talented girl he’d fallen head-over-heels for their first year. Everything had seemed to get in the way of professing his feelings for her, and also, he felt a little… unworthy. He was a great big massive dork, not nearly cool enough to even be seen with someone as pretty and sophisticated as Kyoka.

He’d probably short-circuit and go into “yay” mode when tried to confess to her.

Groaning, he rolled onto his side to grab his phone off the charger. It wasn’t like he was sleeping anyway. As he unlocked it, his thumb came to rest over the screen, and his golden eyes stared at the time burning in white numbers in the center of the display. The time was inching closer to midnight. Soon, it would officially be the day of his graduation. The realization sent a sinking feeling spiraling into the pit of his stomach.

He was running out of time. Everyone made well-intentioned promises to keep in touch after high school, but everyone knew that almost never panned out. You went on, to college or to a career, you got insanely busy, and next thing you know you haven’t talked to anyone you know in years and made new friendships. Denki swallowed thickly, mindlessly bringing up his favorite picture of Kyoka in his gallery. She was smiling brightly, so hard her eyes were scrunched up into little half-moons. She’d made that face for Denki when he’d surprised her for her birthday with an expensive album she’d been eyeing since its release. When she’d smiled at him like that, he’d almost electrocuted everyone in the room because he’d been so damn in love.

He was still so damn in love.

He pulled up Kyoka’s contact information. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. Would she even be awake right now? He wondered with a tiny sigh. Probably not. It was the middle of the night. Still, he found himself texting out a message.

Hey, are you awake?

He rolled back over and set the phone down on his chest to stare up at the ceiling again. He fully expected his message to go unanswered, so he began losing himself in the confusing stream of “what ifs” and regretting every moment he never chose to tell Kyoka how he felt. He was so lost in thought that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the message alert rang through his quiet bedroom. He fumbled with his sweaty hands to pull up Kyoka’s response.

Yeah, I’m awake. What’s up?

A sappy smile bloomed on his lips, and he rolled over, snuggling into his mattress while typing out his reply.

Just thinking. What about you?

Three dots popped up on the message screen, quickly followed by a simple, Same.

Denki ruminated on his thoughts for a moment, thumb hovering over the keyboard. He didn’t even really know what he wanted to say, or what he wanted to do. He wasn’t enough of an ass to confess to Kyoka over text, no… It had to be more special than that, something that she was deserving of.

A cheesy grin slowly appeared on his face as he recounted a conversation he’d overheard— Kyoka talking to Mina about her favorite romance movie tropes. Believe it or not, Kyoka secretly adored them and often requested them for the girls’ movie nights. He’d always stored that information in the back of his mind, just in case it would ever become useful…

Yeah… he thought deviously. He threw off his covers and scrambled over to his closet to throw on something halfway-decent. He couldn’t profess his undying love in a pair of All Might pajama pants, after all. He inspected himself in the mirror after wiggling into a pair of skinny jeans and a band tee-shirt that Kyoka had bought for his last birthday. He licked the palm of his hand to slick down the flyaways in his blond hair, turned his face left and right, and then gave his reflection finger-guns.

“You got this. You’re a stud. Ladies love ya!” He grinned encouragingly. He held the expression until his face hurt, trying to will the confidence into existence. Then, he flopped his arms and hung his head in defeat. “She’s probably gonna laugh,” he snorted. “But,” he added, peeking through his bangs at the mirror. “I still gotta try!”

Before his courage could fail him, Denki snatched up the vintage stereo sitting on his desk— another birthday present from Kyoka— and scurried out of the room, hopping on one foot down the hall trying to slip on his Converse. He slowly tip-toed past Tenya’s dorm clutching his stereo to his chest; their class representative had a nose for trouble, especially Denki’s shenanigans, and had caught the blond many a night trying to sneak away and get up to no good. It seemed that luck was on Denki’s side this evening, as he made it to the stairwell without inciting a peep for the tall bespectacled boy’s room. He breathed a sigh of relief and gathered himself for a moment before proceeding downstairs.

He treaded carefully, having long since memorized the creaky spots in the wood in his many misadventures. The tip of his tongue peeked out of his lips as he used the sparse moonlight to guide his steps down to the first floor. It was slow going, but the even best-laid plans were ruined by haste. He could feel his cell phone vibrating in his back pocket, probably Kyoka wondering why he suddenly stopped texting her.

All in due time, my dear Kyoka! <3

When Denki reached the first-floor landing, he cautiously peered out into the gloom. It wouldn’t be the first time he surprised another student who had fallen asleep in the lounge, or worse, Mr. Aizawa, who had relocated to the common room to stay up late grading assignments. Thankfully, Lady Luck was generous and granted him passage through his second trial; the lounge was empty.

Denki stole away through the darkness, like a thief in the night, to the back door. He grimaced as it creaked loudly and looked over his shoulder. After an agonizing half-minute of silence, no one emerged from the dark to scold him, so he elected that the coast was clear. He slipped outside, and the warm wind immediately enveloped him, clouding him with a cologne of night-blooming flowers and dew. He stared out into the side alley, the concrete path that led him to the space just beneath Kyoka’s balcony— and began to doubt.

I’m really going out on a limb here, he gulped and clutched the stereo to his chest until the metal creaked. His absolute worst nightmare wasn’t Kyoka rejecting him… but laughing at him. He tried to tell himself that Kyoka would never do something so callous, but he worried all the same. It was such a frightening thing, putting yourself out there. The mind tried to worm its way out of it whenever possible.

But it’s now or never! Even if she laughs at me… If I don’t do this now, I’ll regret not doing it for the rest of my life!

Denki was going to go out on this limb, even if it broke underneath him and he plummeted headlong into bitter heartbreak. He could always put himself back together again. Resolute, he tromped down the small alleyway to the rows of balconies jutting out from the dorm.

He counted under his breath until he found Kyoka’s sliding glass doors and fluttering curtains. He set the stereo down by his feet and finally pulled out his phone to discover a series of confused messages from Kyoka.

Hello? You text me first, and then don’t answer me? What’s up with that?

He smiled, sensing that playful bite in her tone that he’d fallen head-over-heels in love with.

Come out onto your balcony, he answered. Before he could stow his cellphone, it buzzed with a quick reply.

What? Why?

Just do it! He insisted in mild panic. He’d failed to consider that Kyoka would just tell him to shove off and go to bed. As nervous sweat condensed on his forehead, he heard the faint click of the door. He jerked in shock, inadvertently dropping his phone face-down on the concrete. He cringed, already imagining the crack spiderwebbing across the glass screen.

“Denki?” he heard Kyoka call suspiciously as he ducked down to hit the power button on the stereo. It automatically started up a CD of Kyoka’s favorite songs that he’d burned on the off-chance that he would need it. Just as she came to the edge of the balcony, he straightened up and swept his hand through his hair, smiling bashfully. Her eyes widened, refracting the moonlight as her ears drank in the pretty tune streaming from the stereo’s large speakers. “Denki?” she repeated perplexedly. “What are you doing?”

He nudged down the volume with his toe while a blush rose to his cheeks.

“Look, I know this is corny as hell, and you probably don’t appreciate being called out at three in the morning, but I’m kinda desperate here,” he admitted, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck and chuckling. “You know how I told you I was thinking? I was thinking about you. How your smile lights up my whole life, and when you sing it sounds like an angel walking this Earth, and how damn lucky I feel to have shared these last three years with you. How cute you are when you laugh, and gush about romance movies when you think nobody notices, and how badass you are that it leaves me breathless.”

As he rambled on and on about everything he absolutely adored about her, Kyoka’s face glowed like a pink opal in the moonlight and her wide eyes glimmered like gems. By this time, the noise had attracted the other girls from their dorm rooms, and they sleepily peered out at Denki pouring out his heart and soul to their startled classmate. His cheeks darkened with embarrassment, but he’d already said so much; there was no going back now.

“I was thinking about how stupidly in love I am with you, and how if I don’t tell you now that I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. So I love you, Kyoka, and I’d be really stoked if you’d go out with me.”

A ripple of gasps rang out from the girls’ mouths, and they all looked expectantly at Kyoka. The girl gulped audibly and pawed at her dark hair, which was sticking up in odd places and tousled with sleep. Her earjacks nervously writhed above her shoulders and her eyes cast down as she considered Denki’s confession. All the while, he stood there holding his breath, waiting and listening to the love song serenade the silence.

He was beginning to feel a bit faint and like he was going to start sparking when her eyes finally flickered up to meet his own.

“I’d be really stoked to go out with you, too.”

The girls erupted into cheers and squeals, jumping up and down while clapping their hands. Kyoka blushed under their ecstatic congratulations. Their whoops and hollers attracted the boys from across their halls, meandering out onto the girls’ balconies to investigate what all the fuss was about. Denki shrunk under all the attention, twiddling his fingers and turning as red as a tomato.

“Aw, congratulations, you two!” Izuku called with a big smile.

“It’s about damn time,” Katsuki grumped from beside Eijirou and Ochako. “I was getting sick and damn tired about him mooning over her like a lovesick sap.”

“Hey, bro! Don’t you have a nicer way to say congrats?” the redhead scolded, making Katsuki snarl.

“Denki Kaminari!” came the expected chastising. Denki flinched and grinned apologetically at Tenya, who was gestating emphatically on Tooru’s balcony with his nightcap flapping. “What is the meaning of this? I understand the romanticism, but it is the eve of our graduation ceremony! It is imperative that we be rested to do justice to our prestigious institution, not straggle in like zombies! Have you no sense of decorum?”

“Oh, can it, class rep,” Mina chided. Tenya leaned down over the balcony railing with an affronted gasp. The pink girl’s smile was wide as she winked at Denki. “So, stud. Are you gonna just stand there, or are you gonna come give your new girlfriend a kiss?”

“Mina!” Kyoka hissed, turning her head so hard and fast that Denki swore he heard her bones snap. Denki jumped, stuttering nonsensities, and dipped down to retrieve his stereo. It was still blaring as he sprinted back into the dorm and up the stairs. Kyoka was standing in her doorway as he came barreling up the steps, tripping over the laces of his Converse and nearly plowing headfirst into the wall. The rest of the students watched with bated breath, crowding in the other doorways and on the steps behind him.

“Hey, Kyoka,” Denki swallowed, holding the stereo to his chest as he timidly approached her. His breaths came in ragged gasps from his rapid staircase sprint, and a sheen of sweat stuck his hair to his forehead. He doubted that he looked the picture of handsome— but Kyoka still smiled coyly as he approached, tucking her hair behind her ears and staring at him like he was her knight in shining armor. His golden eyes never left hers as he set the stereo on the floor and rubbed his palms on the denim fabric of his jeans.

“Hey, Denki,” she smiled shyly. His heart fluttered just at the sweet sound of her voice, and he swore he fell in love all over again in that moment. His body moved instinctively as his mind was ensnared by her unconscious charm, stepping close to her and using his index finger to slowly tip up her chin. He sucked in a breath, enchanted by her shy little gaze and slightly parted lips.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Just kiss her already, you asshole, I’m tired!” Katsuki yelled from down the hall, making both of them jump. He heard Eijirou scold him under his breath and elbow him in the ribs, making Katsuki unleash a string of unflattering curses. After the fiery blond’s grumbles had died down, Denki smiled bashfully at the pink-cheeked Kyoka. She fluttered her eyelashes demurely, then flickered her gaze down to his lips.

Well, if he was waiting for an invitation, that damn sure was it.

Without further ado, Denki leaned in to gently capture her in a sweet kiss. His heart sung as she hummed slightly, making his hair stand on end. He almost wondered if he’d strayed into a dream, that his fantastical whimsies had come to fruition only in his subconscious. However, when he pulled back and opened his eyes, he knew he was awake. He could never dream the way she looked at him then, with such utter adoration that it made his heart ache.

“All right. Show’s over,” Katsuki grumbled, skulking off toward his room. Denki rolled his eyes but leaned down to finally switch off the stereo. When he straightened back up, their classmates had retreated into their rooms— leaving them alone. Kyoka shyly swung from side-to-side, hugging herself with a sheepish grin.

“That was pretty smooth,” she admitted.

“Really?” he asked excitedly. Her cheeks darkened a shade of pink, and then she nodded. Denki suppressed the wild urge to embarrass himself with a happy jig. Kyoka would probably find it charming, but he wanted to hang on to some sense of decorum, as Tenya had put it. After several minutes of staring adoringly at one another, Denki finally drawled dreamily, “Well… We should probably get back to bed… Tenya’ll be mad if we’re tired at the ceremony tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding just as enthused about ending the moment as he was. Neither of them moved for several seconds. “You should go, Denki,” she reminded him, finally prompting his sluggish body to move. He scooped up his stereo, never breaking eye contact, before rising to clutch it to his chest. “I’ll see you later,” she reassured him with a light laugh, before retreating into her room. She didn’t close the door, just gazed at him like he’d hung the moon in the sky— and he would, for her.

“Yeah,” he said as he began backing away towards the end of the hall. When she finally shut the door, he risked his happy dance, jitterbugging back to his room. Just as he flopped onto his bed, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out with furrowed brows, and then broke into a stupid smile.��

I’m looking forward to our date.

His thumbs flew across the screen to type up a reply as he rolled on his side and snuggled into bed.

Me too. Goodnight, Kyoka.

She must have drifted off, because there was no reply. That was all right. After a minute of goofily admiring her contact picture, he finally put his phone on the charger and settled into bed. Sleep took him easily this time, gifting him dreams of what was to come.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#kamijiro #kamijirou #jirokami #jiroukami #kaminari x jiro #jiro x kaminari #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #kyoka jiro #jiro kyoka #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha fanfic #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfic #bnha fanfiction

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spine-buster · 4 years

Text

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 32

A/N: Another ‘friend’ of ours makes an appearance in this chapter (unfortunately for me lmao)

August 2nd, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was as prepared as she could be for Game 1 against the Columbus Blue Jackets.

Scotiabank Arena was freezing – more freezing than normal – because of the three-games-a-day and all the hockey being played. She knew the players and team personnel would complain if the ice was crap (apparently they could tell, though it beat the shit out of her how they could tell), and of course Scotiabank Arena, and the Leafs in general, wanted to make an excellent impression. They were the centre of the hockey world, so Aberdeen knew they could pull it off. It just didn’t help that it was August and it felt like early November indoors.

She joined Brendan and Kyle in their usual box – luckily they didn’t have to give that up. The team was taking their pre-game skate below and Aberdeen watched as William shot pucks towards Freddie in the net, sneaking one past him before skating around their perimeter of the rink a few times. On the other side of the ice, the Columbus Blue Jackets were doing the exact same thing, though she barely knew or recognized a soul on the team. One of them could walk by her in the arena and she wouldn’t know better.

“How do you think it’s gonna go?” Brendan asked from six feet away from her, his black mask covering his face.

Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders. “You should stop asking me these questions, Brendan. I know nothing about hockey.”

“That may be,” he said, not letting up, “but you know the boys, on a level far superior than your knowledge of hockey. So what do you say?”

Aberdeen thought about it. She knew them on a personal level, but that didn’t matter at all – at least she didn’t think it mattered – when it came to a playoff game. She knew how much pressure the guys were under. She also knew that they were still adjusting to the bubble life and how weird everything was. Make no mistake – they were being taken care of exceptionally well by the staff at the Royal York Hotel, and Aberdeen made sure she said a loud thank you to every worker she came across and interacted with. She heard every single one of the guys do the exact same thing. But she didn’t know how that would translate into a hockey game. They were two different things. They were to different entities that she had no idea how to join together.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, her voice soft. “When you ask me these questions, I feel like you want me to be Nostradamus or something. What if I said they were going to lose 2-0?”

“I’d believe you,” Brendan shrugged.

***

The Leafs lost 2-0.

“C’mon Nostradamus,” Brendan said as he packed up his clipboard and tucked it under his arm. “The social media posts can wait. You need to go mediate the post-game interviews and press calls.”

Aberdeen packed up her iPad after she rolled her eyes. She shouldn’t have said anything. She should have responded ‘They’re going to win 5-0!’ the first time he ever asked her that question and kept that answer throughout the entire season. She followed six feet behind Kyle, who was in turn six feet behind Brendan, as they made their way to the locker room. By the time they got there, Sheldon was nearing the end of his post-game speech. Most of the guys were half undressed – at least at the top – and a few of them were shoving off their elbow pads and chucking their tape from their socks into the bins. They all looked irritated.

She made her way into the media room and set up the Zoom call where a bunch of reporters joined. Morgan and Auston walked into the room, and she quickly typed in the chat which players were there so they could organize their questions accordingly. Morgan and Auston sat down in their chairs.

“Is Steve on the call?” Auston asked suddenly while Aberdeen was adjusting the camera.

“Uh, yeah. Why?” she asked.

Auston pursed his lips together and shrugged it off.

The interviews were going fine. She hated hearing the sound of her own voice on recordings but she knew she’d have to suck it up for the sake of the media call. She called on each reporter by name. The boys answered their questions. It was all very routine.

“Steve Simmons from the Toronto Sun,” Aberdeen called out. She waited, and while waiting, she saw Morgan’s and Auston’s demeanour completely change.

“Uhhh, Steve Simmons, Toronto Sun for Auston – it’s one thing to hear about how tight they play, and to even watch the films of how tight they play. What was it like to experience it?”

Auston took the lead. “Uh, well I mean first of all, it’s unfortunate that I’mn getting a question from you at this point, Steve, but I just wanted to say I didn’t really appreciate the article you wrote about me a couple months ago. I thought, uh, it was very unethical to be honest, but…uh, moving along…”

Aberdeen didn’t hear the rest of his answer. Truthfully, she didn’t care. All she could feel was a burning sensation shooting up her spine at Auston’s words. He did it. He called out Steve Simmons, the most annoying reporter known to mankind.

She smirked.

***

After the media interviews, Aberdeen found a quiet space and took out her iPad again to post the final score graphic to the team’s Instagram page. As she finished typing the caption – ‘Battled hard. Back at it on Tuesday.’ – she heard some fairly loud footsteps behind her before they stopped. “A girl?” a voice from behind her said.

She didn’t recognize it – and it wasn’t like anybody from the team would refer to her as “a girl” – so she furrowed her brows and turned around. She saw what had to be a member of the Columbus Blue Jackets staring at her. She couldn’t see it, but she automatically knew from the way he was standing and the energy he gave off that he was smirking smugly underneath his mask. “Yeah, we exist,” she shot him a look, not ready to take any bullshit from him or anybody else. The way these men thought she was a complete novelty astounded her. “Have you never seen one of us before?”

“So Barzy was right,” the man continued. “The Leafs have a girl in their bubble. Incredible.”

Aberdeen could tell by the way he said and emphasized girl that this conversation – if you could call it that – was gonna be a doozy. The guy was huge but didn’t look any older than she was, so she knew she would be able to put him in his place. “What are you even doing in this hallway? You’re not supposed to be on this side,” she said sternly. “I suggest you leave and go back to your area of the arena unless you want me to complain to the NHL that your breaching protocol.”

From the very end of the hallway, another figure walked by, stopping at the gap when he apparently found who he was looking for. Aberdeen could at least recognize him – John Tortorella, the head coach of the Columbus Blue Jackets. “Pierre, what the fuck are you doing there? Come on, we gotta go.”

The man, named Pierre, gave Aberdeen a smoldering look. She rolled her eyes. “Must have taken a wrong turn,” he said, loud enough so John would hear.

Dead set on not taking any bullshit, and just really, really wanting to put this guy in his place, Aberdeen didn’t let up. “Perhaps you should remind Pierre of how to speak to the staff of another NHL team,” she said sternly. Both men were too far away to notice how red she was getting, but she could see Pierre whip his head to look at her and his eyes go wide in shock. “And perhaps he should read another copy of the social distancing and bubble protocols tonight in his bedroom so he doesn’t make this unfortunate decision again,” she said, deliberately using ‘decision’ instead of ‘mistake’, because she fucking knew this was no mistake. She wondered what other rumours were swirling in the Royal York about a girl being in the Leafs bubble.

Pierre scurried to the end of the hallway. From her spot, she could hear John chuckle. “You must be the Aberdeen Bloom I’ve only ever heard good things about,” he said. “Keep it up. I might ask you to take my place to keep the boys in line.”

She couldn’t help but smile. Pierre took one last look between his coach and ‘the girl’. “I could take ‘em,” Aberdeen commented, getting a nod from John before he and Pierre disappeared.

She let out a breath.

***

After the team got back to the hotel, picked up their pre-packaged dinner, and settled into their rooms, Aberdeen showered and changed. She sat at the desk where she put the meal and took out her phone. She sent some quick texts to her parents, Siena, and Camden before bringing up William’s name.

U up?

lmao minskatt isnt that what i should be saying to u *wink emoji*

Do you want to eat dinner together?

of course

I’m ready whenever you are babe

She waited for him to start the call. Not even two minutes later, her phone began to ring and “Head Empty” flashed across the screen. She accepted the FaceTime call almost immediately. When it connected and he appeared on her screen, walking in his hotel room with his bathrobe on and his hair wet and tied back, she smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi minskatt,” he said, his voice low. She watched as he put a pair of headphones on. “That’s better.”

Hers were already in. “I’m sorry about the game tonight,” she said, perching her phone on a high point on the desk. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Not really. At least, not right now,” he said, putting his phone down too. “Maybe later. Like, after we have dinner.”

“Promise me we will.”

“I promise,” he said, looking into the phone. He knew she would want him to talk about it, and he made her a promise all those months ago. He would never break it. “Right now I just want to have dinner over FaceTime with my girlfriend even though we’re less than fifty feet away from each other.”

Aberdeen chuckled, if only because she agreed wholeheartedly that this whole thing was ridiculous. The tone of William’s voice made her know that he thought it completely ridiculous too. “It’s hard. I know. At least we get free food,” she held up a forkful of the marinated chicken breast. “And good food. It’s not like it’s airplane food.”

William smiled slightly. “First thing I do when we get out of here is bring you to Canoe or Ardo or Miku and splurge on every meal they have on the menu,” he said.

“Sounds good to me. Maybe by then I’ll have a new job to celebrate, anyway.”

“How’s the article coming along?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said. She’s started in the other day and already had about 1500 words worth of material. She figured the best way to go about it was keep a sort of diary every day and then edit it down when she could. “Might talk about how fucking awkward you hockey boys are these days with women.”

“I’m excluded from that, right?” he asked. “I mean, I totally swept you off your feet when we first met.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “You did.”

***

August 3rd, 2020

Aberdeen accompanied the team to one of the workout facilities just so she could catch a glimpse of sone sunshine on the day off. Instead of working out, she sat on the sidelines of where all the equipment was and the boys worked out, furiously typing away on her personal laptop. Every so often when she’d glance up, she’d see Morgan’s thighs almost ripping through his shorts as he did some lunges; she’d see Auston’s biceps almost bursting through his sleeves as he lifted weights above his head; she’d see William’s thick torso exposed as his shirt rode up from him throwing a heavy medicine ball above his head.

A million girls in this city would kill her to be in her position.

And here she was, writing 10,000 words about them instead of ogling them. Well, everyone except her secret boyfriend.

***

August 4th, 2020

Game 2.

Aberdeen was confident that the boys would respond to Columbus’s win in Game 1. She could tell in their energy throughout the day and in the arena they were ready and they were ready to win.

“Hey Nostradamus,” Brendan called out, winking. Aberdeen saw Kyle chuckle from behind his mask. “What’s the score gonna be?”

“Oh shut it,” she shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest and smirking to herself. Except she couldn’t hold her tongue. “3-0, but this time for us.”

“I believe her!” Kyle piped up.

Brendan snorted. “Who’s placing bets?!”

The bell rang and everybody settled down to stand for the anthem. As the game got underway, Aberdeen could feel rushes of electricity move up her spine every time the Leafs touched the puck. They were playing phenomenally. They looked focused, into it, and like a complete team. It was a night and day difference from Game 1. Though the first period didn’t have any goals, Aberdeen knew they’d be coming – for the Leafs only.

In the second period Auston scored and Aberdeen jumped out of her seat to celebrate. And when John scored late in the third period to get a two goal lead, she was even happier.

Then, with less than two minutes left, disaster hit.

It was a play behind the net. Pierre Luc Dubois – the guy from the other day, Aberdeen had learned – basically cross-checked Jake Muzzin, and Jake fell awkwardly, trying to break it, with his head hitting a Blue Jackets player’s leg. He fell to the ice.

He wasn’t getting up. And the referee hadn’t blown the whistle.

Those fuckers.

“BLOW THE FUCKING WHISTLE!!!” Aberdeen screamed at the top of her lungs, startling Brendan and Kyle. Her face was turning red. She was sure she’d been so loud the referee actually heard her, because he finally blew it. Jake was having a hard time getting up, and then he lay back down. One of the trainers immediately made his way onto the ice, rushing towards Jake.

The replays began to play from every angle, and Aberdeen watched on the TV screen in the box how his head and neck contorted once he hit the player’s thigh. She had tears in her eyes as she watched the worst angles. She looked back out onto the ice to see Jake still lying there. The trainer was still with him, though more were making their way onto the ice now. Then, she saw one of the trainers put his hands near Jake’s neck. They called for a stretcher.

She bolted out of her seat.

“Aberdeen!” she could hear Brendan call out after her, but she didn’t listen. She didn’t turn around. She hurried down to ice level, her mind running a mile a minute, and flashed her credentials to anyone and everyone she needed to, not bothering to stop so they could actually see them.

By the time she got to ice level, she could hear the distant sound of sticks tapping, letting her know he was being stretched off. She met all the trainers and the stretcher at the entrance. “Jake?!” she asked frantically.

“Aberdeen?” he asked.

“Are you okay? Did you break your neck?!”

“I didn’t break my neck. I can feel my arms and legs,” he said. Aberdeen let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding in. “Did it look scary?”

“Is that a joke?” she asked. “I ran down here the second they called for the stretcher.”

“We’re going to take him to the hospital. He’s going to have to leave the bubble,” the head trainer informed Aberdeen. “You need to tell Brendan and Kyle. Then update us on the protocol of what it will take to get him back into the hotel.”

Before she could acknowledge what was just said, Jake spoke up again. “Aberdeen?”

“Yeah Jake?”

“You need to call Courtney for me. Tell her I’m okay,” he said. “She’s probably worried sick.”

Aberdeen’s heart sunk into her stomach. Courtney. “Yeah yeah, of course—”

“—You have her number, right—”

“—We really need to get him to the hospital—”

“—Yeah, I have her number—”

“—Call Courtney, please,” were Jake’s last words before he was stretchered off.

Aberdeen watched until they were out of her line of sight. For a few moments, the images of what just happened flashed through her mind, and she momentarily forgot about everything. She felt sick to her stomach. Jake said he felt okay, but she knew hockey players always just said that. Morgan had been playing injured for the better part of the year until he actually got injured. High sticks to the face, lost teeth, blood drawn – these guys just put a bandaid on it and said they were fine. But this was different.

When Courtney’s face crossed her mind, she jolted back to life and grabbed her phone out of her pocket, scrolling until she found Courtney’s number. The phone didn’t even have to ring twice. “Aberdeen?!” she asked frantically. “How’s Jake?”

“Hey Court—he’s okay—”

“He’s okay?!”

“Well, they’re bringing him to the hospital right now,” she said. “But I was able to talk to him because I rushed down to ice level and he told me he was fine and to call you.”

“So you—you were able to talk to him,” Courtney said, her voice much calmer than just moments before. “You saw him?”

“Yes. He told me he could move his arms and legs,” Aberdeen informed her.

“Okay. Okay. Does that mean he has to leave the bubble though? I mean can I go visit him?”

Aberdeen cringed. “I don’t think so,” she said. As she did, she could hear Luna being fussy in the background and Courtney trying to calm her. “The NHL has an agreement with Toronto General about potential injuries. If everything is okay and he comes back into the bubble, all he has to do is pass three negative tests,” she explained, listening to Luna get even fussier.

“Okay. Alright. But they’ll call me, right?”

“Absolutely. I’m sure Jake will even be able to call you from the hospital. Our trainers all have their phones on them.”

“Thanks Aberdeen,” Courtney said, and Aberdeen could hear the relief in her voice. She knew all Courtney wanted was to hear from her husband. Luna let out a loud cry. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye Court,” Aberdeen ended the call.

Families. So many of them had families. So many of them had families that were suffering and making do with a prolonged absence and Aberdeen couldn’t take it. The players were sacrificing so much to be in the bubble. And their families were sacrificing so much letting them go into the bubble. She knew most of them had money – to cope, to do whatever, really – but that didn’t compensate for presence. That didn’t compensate for having daddy around to play and snuggle with.

She began to cry as she found herself walking towards the locker room, not even knowing whether or not the game had ended. She didn’t really care at this point. All she could think about was Courtney and Luna at home, worrying about Jake as he was being taken to the hospital. To Aberdeen, nothing else mattered right now.

She heard some commotion from the locker room and she knew the boys were back in. She didn’t know how long they’d been back for, and didn’t bother to peek in to see. She didn’t want to when her eyes were still red and welling up with tears. Instead, she hid herself around a corner, crouching down with her knees against her chest, wiping at her eyes every so often and trying to control her emotions before having to go in, or getting called by Brendan, or by Kyle, or—

“There you are.”

Well, so much for that.

She looked up from her crouched position and saw Jason looking down at her. He wasn’t completely undressed – he had all his UnderArmour on – but he was still sweaty from the game and his hair was matted against his head. She wiped her eyes one last time before getting up. “Hi.”

“Did you see Jake?”

She nodded. “He’s okay. He can feel and move his arms and legs or whatever.”

“Why are you crying?”

She knew he wasn’t asking to be insolent, but did she really have to have to spell it out for him? “Don’t tell me you’re immune to this shit,” she said. “I just had to call Courtney and explain to her that her husband didn’t break his neck and end his God damn career. Luna was crying in the background. It’s a lot, okay?”

Jason nodded his head. “I know it is. I’m not trying to…fuck, I know that came out wrong. He’s gonna be okay, Aberdeen.”

“Thanks.”

“Come on, Aberdeen,” he said soothingly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

She shook her head, wiping away the last of her tears. “I know. I’m just being a big baby.”

“No you’re not,” Jason said. “You’re not being a big baby. You’re being a human being. Someone you cared about got hurt. Do you want to talk about it when you get back to the hotel?” he asked.

She considered it for only half a second before she shook her head. “No. I know you call your girls every night. I can’t take time away from them.”

“Aberdeen—”

“I’ll be okay,” she asserted. “I promise. I’ll be okay.”

“Aberdeen!” Kyle’s voice suddenly called out. He rushed towards her with his phone in his hand. “They took him to the hospital, right?”

“Yeah,” she nodded her head, trying to steady her voice and make it seem as professional as possible. “He’s technically left the bubble, so we have to update the trainers on protocol to get him back into the hotel and how—”

“I’ll handle that with Brendan and Josh,” he interrupted. “But he was okay?”

“He could feel his arms and legs. That’s what he told me. Then he asked me to call Courtney and I did that.”

Kyle nodded his head, looking – really looking – at Aberdeen for the first time in their conversation. “Were you crying?”

“I’m going to be fine,” was all she said.

***

“I’m going to come to your room,” William said through the phone in a strained voice.

“Don’t you dare,” Aberdeen chastised him, a new batch of tears having fallen down her face as she lay in bed. “Don’t you even think about leaving your room, William.”

“Aberdeen, you need me and I need to be with you right now—”

“And you need to stay in your room so you don’t get kicked out of the bubble,” she said sternly. “I’m being serious, Will. Don’t come over.”

She watched as he bit his lip and shook his head. She could see all over his face how conflicted he was. It was one of the things she loved most about him – to the world, he seemed cool and unemotional and that he didn’t really care about anything or take anything too seriously, but to her, he was the entire range of emotions in one conversation. He had a heart full of gold and she knew it would always stay that way. “This is killing me, minskatt,” he whispered, his voice defeated. “I want to be there for you when you need me. Always. I mean…you need me, right?”

Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know where this was coming from, but like some things with William, she felt like it was something that had been on his mind for a while and was only letting out now. He was still learning to talk to her about his feelings. He was keeping his promise from February, so she could appreciate that. “Of course I need you,” she said softly. “I’ll always need you like you need me. We’re in this together. You know that. But you need to be on this team right now. You need to help them fight. This isn’t about me. It’s about the team.”

“It’s always about you,” William said. “You still don’t get it, do you? It’s always about you.”

“Don’t make it about me right now, Willy. It’s not about me. It’s about Jake, and the team,” she paused for dramatic effect. “Make it about me later,” she added, trying to be humourous.

It garnered a small smile from him, and she felt proud of herself. “I love you, minskatt.”

“I love you too Willy. Promise me you’ll get some sleep?”

He nodded slightly. “I promise.”

***

Aberdeen’s iPhone was still in her hands as she woke again from its vibrations. She jumped at the sensation of being awoken in the middle of the night. If it was Willy calling her at three in the morning, she was gonna kill him.

“Hello?” her voice was groggy.

The voice on the other end was not William’s. “I lived, bitch.”

***

August 6th, 2020

It wouldn’t be a Toronto Maple Leafs series without some drama, apparently. And the drama tonight was how the team blew a 3-0 lead, allowing the Columbus Blue Jackets to win 4-3 in overtime, with Pierre-Luc Dubois scoring a hattrick. That meant the Columbus Blue Jackets were now up 2-1 in the series.

It meant the Leafs could go home tomorrow.

Aberdeen tried not to think about it.

She didn’t bring it up with anybody as they went back to the hotel, and she knew, judging by the looks on their faces, that they didn’t want to hear about it either. Nobody would be turning on their TVs tonight, and she doubted they would check the news on their phones, either. Maybe they’d play video games to take their minds off of it. Or maybe they’d go right to bed and rest, since they had to do all of this again in less than 24 hours. Fuck.

Aberdeen took a shower. She washed her face. She did her skincare. She put on a sheetmask.

Her phone rang.

She knew it was William, so she tucked herself into bed and accepted the FaceTime call. When he realized that she had a sheetmask on, a smile broke out on his face from ear to ear. “Nice sheetmask,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

She smiled cheekily and shrugged her shoulders. “You’re used to it by now. Shouldn’t come as much of a surprise,” she said.

“I am used to it by now and—oh shit, hold on, I forgot something…” he said, trailing off as he set his phone down so Aberdeen could only see the ceiling in his room. Knowing William, he probably forgot to turn the light off in the bathroom or something. But the longer he took, the more Aberdeen became skeptical of his whereabouts. She barely heard anything on the other end. “There we are…” she heard his voice. And then she saw what he had on his face: a sheetmask. He was still smiling from ear to ear. “Now where were we?” he asked.

“William!” Aberdeen squealed, letting out giggles she couldn’t hold in at the sight of him. He looked ridiculous. It was clearly the first time he’d ever put one on himself. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

“You love these things!” he tried to justify himself. “I brought one because I knew I’d catch you at least once in here with one of these things on. And if we can’t do it together…well, physically, then we can do them together in separate rooms. Like everything else we need to do.”

Her cheeks flushed red – not that he could see. He bought sheetmasks and put them on with her. He gave her time to write. He encouraged her writing. He listened to her. He cared for her. He was even better than anything she could have imagined in a dream boyfriend. How did she get so lucky? How did she let guys treat her like shit before him? She felt tears well in her eyes. He was going all out to make the best of the bubble, and she couldn’t be more thankful. “I love you so much, Willy.”

“I love you too, minskatt.”

“No…I love you Willy. Like love you love you. Love you love you love you. I don’t even have the words…and I’m a writer! You make me speechless, Willy. There aren’t enough words in the English or Swedish languages that I can string together that will, like, tell you or show you how much I love you.”

“I get it, minskatt. Don’t worry. I feel the same way.”

“I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”

“I annoyed you enough until I wore you down,” he quipped.

She giggled. “You seduced me is what I’d call it.”

“I don’t know about that. If I remember correctly it was you rubbing yourself against my thigh that morning.”

She made a face at him. He made the exact same face back but crinkled his sheetmask so he had to flatten it with his free hand. She watched him with complete adulation. “Willy?”

“Minskatt?”

“Can we listen to our song together?”

William smiled. He fiddled around with his phone and his ‘Minskatt’ playlist until the familiar chords started playing over the phone, filling the air with the nicest, best, most beautiful sound Aberdeen had ever heard – save for Willy’s laugh, maybe – because she knew this song was about her, about them, and it was still their little secret.

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