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saeyoungs-sunflower · 4 years

Note

yo!!! what are the rfas nighttime routines with mc?

Welcome back to another episode of ‘Sunny is drinking alone and decided to get her shit together and do some requests’ (I am a horrible influence, if you are under the drinking age please be responsible). Anywayyyy here ya go anon! I very well may read this back in the morning and edit it again but will let you know! <3

***

RFA nighttime routines with MC

Zen:

❤︎ Zen’s all about a pamper y’all

❤︎ he wants to stay looking fresh and healthy but bbygirl he also wants to make sure you’re well looked after

❤︎ is it even a nighttime routine if you don’t have an elaborate hour-long skincare regime?

❤︎ well yes Zen not everyone is as extra as you like you might as well be chewing gum

❤︎ if anyone actually gets that dumb joke then i am so sorry but also you get 10 points

❤︎ whilst i don’t imagine Zen to usually be that tired in the evenings, his muscles are always tired after a show/day of rehearsals

❤︎ so he would have a bath but he also gets home pretty late and doesn’t wanna faff around ya know?

❤︎ so shower it is

❤︎ oh you think that because he’s a grown ass man that he could be away from you for like 10 mins to shower on his own? well you thought wrong

❤︎ actual puppy

❤︎ sometimes it turns into ~sexy times~ but most of the time he just enjoys the intimacy/closeness and enjoys it when you take care of each other

❤︎ and boy when you shampoo his hair he literally turns to putty

❤︎ when you get out of the shower he L O V E S to do your hair

❤︎ king of braiding

❤︎ but he L O V E S it even more when you do his hair

❤︎ pretty sure you heard him purr once

❤︎ then he sneezed lmao

❤︎ you’re both pretty much out as soon as you get into bed but you always fall asleep in each others’ arms

❤︎ to conclude: nighttimes are about taking care of each other

Yoosung:

★ so this man FINALLY got his life together once you started dating

★ you helped him find his motivation and drive again so it’s actually a pretty production evening most of the time

★ your goal is to get everything done early on so you can relax properly later

★ soon as you both get home? homework/work straight away

★ you also try to make a habit of cooking dinner together every night

★ but you know how it is sometimes you just wanna order a takeaway and that’s chill too

★ do what you gotta do boo

★ once you’ve finished dinner aND DONE ALL THE WASHING UP (don’t you dare leave it until the morning Yoosung i see you), you play LOLOL together !!!!

★ he found that it was SO much more rewarding to play once everything he needed to do was done, and he didn’t have that horrible nagging guilt whilst he had down time

★ then all that’s left to do is get ready for bed !!

★ …

★ …Yoosung?

★ GO TO BED FOOL

★ “mC oNe MoRe gAme” “you said that an hour ago.” “i MeAn iT tHiS TiMe”

★ EVENTUALLY you drag him to bed but he’s always grateful when you do because he only realises how tired he is when his head hits the pillow

★ and he also gets s n u g g l e s so it’s always worth it

★ to conclude: nighttimes are productive but also relaxing

Jaehee:

☞ this poor woman works so hard

☞ even when she quits working for Jumin and you guys open the coffee shop, she still always pushes herself to the max

☞ ya girl gets tired

☞ so you know what that means

☞ BUBBLE BATH TIME

☞ some things only bubbles can heal

☞ wow what that’s so deep Sunny ah yes wasn’t it thank you Sunny aren’t i inspirational yes you are Sunny

☞ you two always go a but overboard with the bubbles lmao but this woman only deserves the best o K

☞ similarly to Yoosung’s, you guys like to get everything done that needs to be done before you relax, so once you get out of the bath you can do whatever ya want!!! how swell is that!!!!

☞ usually end up watching a movie/one of Zen’s musicals because why not hmm?

☞ Jaehee likes to get an early night, so y’all are all snuggled down and ready to sleep at a reasonable hour, ready for your shift in the morning

☞ on a serious note, this woman is pretty affection starved so you make it your MISSION to shower her with love before she falls asleep

☞ i’m talking kisses, cuddles, the whole shebang

☞ when you’re cuddling you like to have a good gossip about the RFA and all that and you always end up all giggly and it’s just the best

☞ to conclude: every night is like a teenage girly night in that she never got to experience

Jumin:

♚ although he doesn’t like to show it, he’s always exhausted after work

♚ he has a lot of pressure on him and he constantly has to be focussed and alert, so by the time he’s walking through the front door he’s running on very little energy

♚ therefore he appreciates a quiet night with the love of his life <3

♚ of course, every night you have a nice meal and a glass of wine W I N E and chat about your day

♚ Jumin has learnt to appreciate the smaller things in life after meeting you, so he adores listening to your voice as you talk about what you got up to that day during dinner

♚ you could be reading the phone book out loud for all he cared, he just loved listening to your voice

♚ he’s usually too mentally tired to do anything like reading in the evening, so most of the time you end up either watching a film or cuddling on the couch

♚ you have enlightened him to the concept of slouchy clothes

♚ yes, Jumin Han has learnt to appreciate joggers and a hoodies what about it?

♚ honestly just the sound of Elizabeth purring and your breathing is enough to bring his stress levels to 0

♚ he’s tried meditation, he’s tried mindfulness, but nothing was as healing as having you in his arms whilst you stroked his hair

♚ after you’ve done the essentials like showering and brushing your teeth and all that jazz, you get into bed and just talk

♚ normally you end up talking about your future, and he goes to sleep every night dreaming about the life you will have together, and then wakes up every morning excited to make that life a reality

♚ to conclude: nighttimes are for recovery and comfort

Saeyoung:

☀︎ honestly? every night is different lmao

☀︎ Saeyoung is a spontaneous guy, so no evening is the same when you’re with him

☀︎ which is amazing, because it keeps things exciting and fresh !!

☀︎ however, there are a few things that don’t change

☀︎ like fAMILY DINNER Y’ALL

☀︎ every. night. without. fail.

☀︎ it’s SO important to you guys that you have time to catch up with each other and make sure that Saeran feels a part of the family because sometimes he likes to hideaway and doesn’t know how to include himself

☀︎ so dinner time is the family bonding time, and then you go back to doing your own thing

☀︎ do you find brushing your teeth boring? do you wish you could make it more fun? do you have a energetic red-head in your life?

☀︎ well then LISTEN UP

☀︎ TEETH BRUSHING DANCE PARTY

☀︎ EVERY. DAMN. NIGHT.

☀︎ like is said, this man keeps you on your toes lmao

☀︎ is this a bathroom or a nightclub the world may never know

☀︎ did someone say cuddle monster??

☀︎ because that’s Saeyoung lol

☀︎ idek why but i always imagine Saeyoung to be very physically affectionate, and not necessarily in a ~sexy~ way

☀︎ he just really appreciates physical contact

☀︎ it grounds him and reassures him that you’re really there and really love him

☀︎ I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN IT’S A HUGE PROBLEM

☀︎ to conclude: every night is exciting and spontaneous, there’s never a boring night with Saeyoung

V / Jihyun:

❁ V is also a man that appreciates a quiet night in

❁ he’s had so much chaos and drama in his life, that quiet domesticity is utter bliss to him

❁ evenings are typically spent in a companionable silence whilst you do your own thing

❁ reading, drawing, whatever! there’s just something so comforting to him about being with you, without even needing to talk

❁ music has become an VERY important part of your lives

❁ we all know that Jihyun is a man who appreciates the arts, and music is no exception

❁ he’s had a stressful day? he’s feeling overwhelmed? put on some soothing music and you can actually see the tension melt away

❁ always trying out new recipes for dinner

❁ most of the time they turn out delicious, but some are just complete abominations i am so sorry

❁ but really? it doesn’t matter because you made them together and you had a good laugh about them

❁ one thing that you recently started doing was reading together in bed

❁ and i don’t mean reading two separate books oh no no no

❁ i’m talking the same book

❁ what a plot twist

❁ every night you take in turns to read out loud to each other

❁ it takes a while to get through book this way, but it also mean that you both appreciate every damn word because how could you not when they’re coming from the literal love of your life??

❁ to conclude: nighttimes are spent in quiet bliss

Saeran:

☽ every evening begins with a walk

☽ it’s a must

☽ Saeran just l o v e s nature, and it’s the perfect start to a relaxing evening

☽ Saeyoung picked up on the fact that you both like evenings to be a calm time, so when you two get home he tries not to be too crazy

☽ but we all know this bitch is out of control so it doesn’t last long lol

☽ Saeran secretly finds it so entertaining but bless he would never admit it

☽ Saeran finds a pleasure in the ordinary

☽ he has never experienced ‘normal’, so he finds so much comfort in everyday activities such as washing up, cooking, setting the table…things like that

☽ he hasn’t had much time to form his own hobbies/interests, and is still experimenting to find things that he enjoys

☽ so he loves watching you do your hobbies

☽ it really doesn’t matter what it is, he just finds watching you concentrate on something you care about so fascinating

☽ often you will offer to teach him and share your interests, and his face always lights up when you do so

☽ this precious boi i cry

☽ he just loves to learn i C R Y

☽ when it comes to showering and all that, he prefers to do that alone

☽ don’t get me wrong, he adores you and cherishes every moment he spends with you

☽ but he’s easily overwhelmed and needs time to himself

☽ it’s also important to him that he’s able to care for himself, so something as simple as washing his face on his own helps him feel like he has some control

☽ to conclude: nighttime is the time for self-care and exploration

***

Thank you so much for the request, anon! I hope these were what you were looking for. Have a wonderful day💛

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Text

No one told you life was gonna be this way

clap clap clap clap

Get it?

But here I am with that request that was sent in FOREVER AGO but I’m actually proud of this one. I haven’t been really happy with the stuff I’ve written in a while, but what are ya gonna do? This was requested from the fluff prompts, which I will still take (I think I still have one or two more currently ?) Sorry to the person who requested this the first time because for some reason the list shows up weird on my computer and the list only goes to 56 unless I’m on my phone but HERE WE ARE ANYWAY

65. "So, we're just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?"

EDIT: so I really loved this one and noticed that no one has every reblogged it (probably because everyone hates the Bruins but Gryz deserves more attention TBH), so I edited it a bit, added stuff, rewrote parts, and here we are!

Flashbacks are in italics!

________________________________

“How come you haven’t gone out on a date in a while?” your roommate, Emily, asks you, plopping down next to you on the couch for what would be another night inside watching Netflix, snacking on popcorn from Trader Joes, and drinking wine.

“No guy has asked me out in a while?” you shrug, taking a large sip of your wine.

“Then why don’t you ask a guy out? You know plenty of single ones.”

“I’m not interested in the ones that I know,” you say. She knows you’re lying. You’re well aware that you’re lying, but you’re not going to tell her that. Your entire friend group knew that you’ve had a crush on Matt pretty much since they day you met.

You were sitting in the dining hall at BU during your freshman year. You only knew Emily, but she had managed to make what seemed like millions of friends in the first two weeks, always surrounded by people while you watched from the outside. You were sitting there trying to keep up with the conversation they were having but not concentrating at all.

“Hey, Gryz!” one of the guys yells, calling over to a babyface, blue eyed boy to come sit at the only available seat across from you. He sits down, giving you a small smile before you both turn your attention back to the conversation. There was something about him that you found yourself going back to looking at him, unable to hold the stare for more than a few seconds before turning back to whoever was talking so that he wouldn’t notice.

Before Emily and her friends had joined you at the table, you were working on some stuff for class, a pencil and pen still laying there on the table. You absentmindedly pick up the pen, using it to push around the pencil. You weren’t sure how long you had been doing that on your own when all of a sudden another pencil is shot in your direction. You look up, the cute guy you had only known as Gryz smiling at you, pen in hand.

“Shoot it back,” he eggs on. You shoot the pencil across the table, it landing right in his lap.

“Oh, come on, Matt,” Vinay says, “You’re on the goddamn hockey team.” Everyone at the table laughs, Matt’s face turning red.

“Let’s do a tournament. We’re all sitting across from someone else,” you suggest.

“I’m not going against you again,” Matt teases, making Alex get up and switch seats with him. He can’t help but smile as you explain the rules to everyone, scrambling to find enough writing utensils for everyone to play.

“First one to get it off the table five times is the winner. The loser of the last round owes the winner a favor of their choosing,” you finish, everyone going unnecessarily crazy.

You were the one who invented the game just then, which surprisingly played to your advantage. You made it to the final round no problem. Your opponent: Matt.

“You’re gonna win,” Matt groans, you just smiling as Emily cheers you on.

And you do. Matt had to buy you breakfast from the diner off campus every weekend for a month as his favor to you. The two of you went every weekend, and you wanted nothing more than for it to be a date each time.

But you didn’t know if he wanted that, too. He seemed to be the only one who didn’t notice that you were absolutely smitten with him. Either that, or he didn’t really care. But regardless, you weren’t about to ask him out and find out that he only thought of you as a friend. And that’s probably why you don’t want to go on a date, you think to yourself. Part of you is still hoping that there’s something there between you and him. Why date other people when you can just wait for the person who’s right there and will never want to date you, right?

“What if I set you up with someone?” Emily suggests, earning what was probably an unnecessarily mean laugh to escape from your lips.

“Yes, because we all know that’s going to end well.” Emily means well; she’s tried to set you up on blind dates before, but they normally end with you going home by yourself because you were too busy comparing the guy to Matt, or finding something wrong with them. It always came down to the same thing: they weren’t Matt.

“Ok, fine. How about this weekend we go out and just have fun? You and me. If we find someone to like hookup with, consensually, then we go for it.”

You give a heavy sigh, staring at your glass of wine. You don’t want to get with another guy. You were crushing hard on Matt, and you didn’t see yourself trying to go for anyone else until the crush was gone. “Fine, sure. It’s a date,” you say reluctantly, knowing that you really didn’t have a choice.

-----------

“What are your plans for the weekend, Y/N?” Matt asks you, leaning against the counter in your kitchen. At least once every other week, you and Emily, Lydia and Jake, Vin and Alex, and Matt would rotate who would have the group over for dinner at one of the four apartments. This week was your and Em’s turn. Since she could really only make pasta, you were in the kitchen making burgers for everyone while Matt was helping you with whatever sides he could scrounge up from your cabinets.

“Em and I are going out somewhere. She thinks I need to get out more.” You turn to him. He’s looking down at the cutting board, concentrating on the peppers he’s cutting. A single strand of hair falls in his face. You just want to brush it out of his face, him to look up at you with those blue eyes you loved, smile at you and -

No. No. You shake your head, turning back to the burgers before he can realize you were even looking at him. “Where are you headed to?” he asks, you not sure if he looked up.

“No clue, she just wants to go out so we can, like, hook up with someone,” you shrug, noticing that he stopped cutting the peppers. He was probably done chopping, anyway. If he was done, though, he would have asked what he could do next. It wasn’t like him to just stop. You take the last burger off the grill pan, and turn to him to see him just staring at the peppers, brow scrunched, almost looking upset. “Matt? Are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat, throwing the peppers into the bowl for the salad you knew only the two of you would end up eating, anyway. “So, do you think you’re actually going to hook up with someone?” He was smiling, but there was something about the look in his eyes that made you think he wasn’t alright.

You chuckle, seeing the upset look in his eyes start to fade, “Probably not,” you shake your head, putting the burgers on buns, “You know me, I’m not into hooking up. Em just thinks I need a boyfriend so I don’t spend every night alone. She thinks my love life is D.O.A, just like in the Friends theme song.”

“What does D.O.A. even mean?”

“Dead on arrival. Basically my love life doesn’t exist.” Both of you laugh, Matt finally smiling with his eyes, “Which it does. Kind of. I mean, I’m interested in someone, so hooking up doesn’t seem that important when he’s around.” You stop for a minute, sort of shocked that you even admitted that you liked someone in the first place, much less admitted it to the guy you liked.

He lets out another sigh, grabbing the bowls to bring to the living room where all your friends were, a smile on his face, that hurt look in his eyes reappearing. “Well, whoever that guy is, he’s really lucky.”

------------------

“Oh. My. God!” Emily practically screams. She wouldn’t have to if the bar you went to wasn’t so loud, but when you tell her about what Matt said to you the other night, she started to lose it. Normally, she would just say you were reading into things too much, but hey, you were drunk. Everything was more interesting when you were drunk.

“I know!” you scream back, mirroring Janice and Rachel.

“What do you think that means?”

“I have no idea.” You take a long sip of the bottle of Corona that had only been in your hands for the last ten minutes. You end up finishing the bottle, swaying a little bit. Whoops. You were a little too drunk already, and the night was only just beginning. “I’ll be right back.” You had every intention of going to the bar and asking for water. But instead, you ended up in an outdoor area of the bar, one that was much quieter than inside, less crowded, more calm, almost soothing.

You take a deep breath, letting in fresh air. What would it be like if you told Matt you liked him? You can just picture telling him, even so much as pulling out your phone to find his contact. You could just hit the little call button next to his name. He would be asleep by now, seeing as he had practice tomorrow and a road trip. You would call him and leave him a message for him to find in the morning. You would say, “Hey, so, we’ve been acting weird around each other lately. Actually, we have been forever. And it might be drunk me talking, but it’s because I’m in love with you, and I have been. I’m not sure about what you’re feeling, but I know for me, it’s you. You. Ok, bye.” And then something great would happen the next morning, where he confesses his love to you, too.

You always hoped that he would. The day he won the Beanpot, you thought he would.

All the guys were celebrating, told to bring as many people as they wanted to the party, which, for some reason, you had to wear a dress for. You thought that Matt was going to invite the entire friend group: you all hung out together when ever you were free. You almost never saw one person from the group alone, but when you asked Emily why she wasn’t getting ready for the party Matt had invited you to, she had no idea what you were talking about.

You show up at Matt’s place where you told him you were going to meet him. He was wearing a simple white button down, navy pants and brown shoes to complete the outfit. It was so simple, but, shit, that crush you had on him was driving you crazy looking at him. You could have sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath when he opened the door and saw you, when he took your hand to lead you inside to the rest of the guys who where there. He spent the entire night by your side, dancing, drinking, laughing.

“I didn’t tell you this before, but you look amazing,” he says, quiet enough for only you to hear while you were surrounded by the rest of his belligerently drunk teammates.

You swallow hard, the alcohol and your crush making you swoon. “You look pretty great, too.”

You should have just told him then and there. It would have made your senior year together much less distracting before he left to play for the Bruins anyway.

But you didn’t do that, and you wouldn’t do that, now. There’s no way you have that sort of confidence to confess that you love one of your best friends. Nor would you do it because there’s the possibility of losing him instead. You put your phone away and head back inside to get that water and find Emily.

There’s no way you could ever tell Matt that you like him. But what if you did?

-------------

“How much of last night do you actually remember?” Emily comes out of her room and into the kitchen, eyes barely open, hair a mess, makeup still on from last night, but now it was all smudged from having slept in it: the classic hungover look that the two of you tried desperately to avoid every time you went out, yet never did.

“I think we made out with some guys?” you say, not really sure. You knew you looked the same as here. All you needed was a good breakfast, which Matt should be coming over with once he got out of practice.

“I remember a guy.”

“Was his name Cory? Or Cody?”

“Yours or mine?”

“Yes.” You both groan, really wishing you remembered what happened last night. You were sure that if you actually made out with the guys that nothing more happened besides that. No boys were present when you woke up, you remember coming home with only Em and no one else, unless she let someone in after.

“I’m making coffee,” you say starting to get up. The room started spinning as you did, pretty much forcing you to sit back down. “I’m texting Matt to also bring coffee.”

‘Gotcha’

“I need water.” Emily whines, still not opening her eyes. Damn, you two really were dramatic.

“You’re on your own for that. But get me some, too.” She manages to actually get up, coming back to your table with two glasses of water. Even the act of her putting the glass on the table a little too hard makes your head pound. You groan, downing the entire glass, putting your head down planning on staying there until Matt comes.

When he knocks on the door, you groan again. “You’re getting that,” Emily says, refusing to lift her head up.

You practically waddle over to the door, where Matt continues to keep pounding on it, each knock sending another throbbing pain through your head. You open the door, “There was no need to keep banging like that.”

“Well don’t you look beautiful.”

You turn to him, glaring, “Fuck you.”

He laughs, bringing the food to the table, unpacking everything he got for the three of you; two black coffees, scrambled eggs for the three of you, bacon for him and Emily, chicken sausage for you, pancakes for him, waffles for Em, french toast for you, and the biggest container of home fries you’ve seen in a while that you knew would be split between you and Emily, even if Matt intended it to be for all three of you.

“This is the only reason we keep you around, you know,” Emily says, digging into the food.

“Yeah, we all know that’s true,” Matt says sarcastically, making eye contact with you as you pretty much scarf down the eggs. He has a smirk on his face like you should know what he’s talking about.

“What are you getting at?” you ask through mouthfuls. You were hungover, you didn’t need to be ladylike in front of him and Em. The expression on his face changes. His face is a mixture of confused and shocked like he’s surprised you don’t know whatever it is you’re supposed to know.

“Uh, nothing.” He shakes his head, the strand of hair falling in his eyes as they turn from you to his food.

The rest of the time is spent with you and Emily trying to piece together what happened last night. You had figured out: you got there, almost got denied entry because the bouncer thought your ID was fake. Then, you pretty much bee-lined your way to the bar where you both ordered two drinks to start off with, because the bar had a $10 minimum in order to use cards, and you had no cash. You started looking for guys to hook up with, seeing no one you liked. At one point you remember going outside, but you don’t remember what you did other than come back to find Emily with two guys. You were pretty sure they were the two guys you ended up making out with, but she seemed to disagree. She thought you two found two other guys to make out with, but then realized that was something she had talked about in the Uber ride home that was a hypothetical. You pretty much made out with the guys then left, not even remembering their names. You weren’t even sure you had asked them what their names were. But you didn’t care. You just needed to rehydrate yourselves and hope the remaining alcohol would be gone by later tonight.

Matt stayed quiet the entire time. He seemed off, but you had no idea why.

“Welp, that was good, but if you excuse me, I think I’m going to go pass out in my bed.” Emily gets up, leaving you alone with Matt.

He doesn’t say anything. There’s a weird tension in the room until you decide to cut it, “Gryz, what’s wrong?”

He looks at you, upset. He takes in a breath before letting out, “So, we're just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?”

Your jaw drops. You remembered thinking about it, but you don’t actually remember going through with it. You thought it was just a drunken fantasy, that you would in theory tell him that you loved him. “I’m sorry, I did what?”

“Do you not remember?”

“No,” you admit. That part of the night was fuzzy. You remember going outside for air. You remember thinking about it. But you don’t remember doing it.

He just takes out his phone. “Do you want to hear the message you left me?”

You don’t even know what words to say. You were scared of what the message said, but you just nodded your head anyway.

‘Hey, so, we’ve been acting weird around each other lately,’ your drunk voice from last night slurring through the speaker. It was the message you didn’t think you had sent, having no memory of actually dialing him in the first place. ‘Actually, we have been forever. And it might be drunk me talking, but it’s because I’m in love with you, and I have been. I’m not sure about what you’re feeling, but I know for me, it’s you. You. Ok, bye.’

You were mortified. You get up from the table, your hands on your face, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter to yourself, starting to pace the kitchen.

“Y/N-” Matt starts, getting up from the table to try to stop you from pacing.

“No, it’s fine. If you want to leave I get it. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I actually called you and told you that. What the fuck is wrong with me?” You can feel your friendship start to break now that you know what you did. How would he ever be friends with you knowing that you liked him? You could blame it on the alcohol. He heard you and Em talking about how drunk you guys got, it wouldn't be so unheard of that you were just calling people and saying things. “I was drunk. I didn’t mean it,” you lie to him.

“You didn’t?” He takes you by the arms, stopping you from pacing, pretty much forcing you to look him in the eye. He looks almost hurt that you said you were lying.

“Uh, yeah. What do you not want me to be?”

“Jesus, Y/N, I don’t know,” he says, letting go of you, starting to pace himself, running his hands through his hair. “You told me the other night that you had your eye on someone and part of me was hoping you were talking about me? But I didn’t even realize it until the other night when I remembered you were going out for the sole purpose of hooking up. How do you think I feel knowing that the girl I love doesn’t think I love her enough and has to go out and get someone else?”

It’s your turn to grab him by the arms to steady him. “And what about me? You’re in the National fucking Hockey League. You’re a professional athlete with this amazing life. You could get literally any girl you wanted, meanwhile I work at a job that I hate, that gives me enough money for me to have an extra ten dollars a month after I pay off all my bills and student loans. I can’t even get a guy to look at me unless Emily provokes it.”

“You both love each other! Do something about it or shut up!” Emily yells from her room.

Emilys voice made both of you freeze. You had been too nervous to do something about it for all this time, were you about to change all of that now?

You didn’t know who kissed who. You were probably still too hungover to even be able to tell, anyway. You didn’t even care. His lips moved with yours, his tongue swiping the bottom of your lip as you felt yourself start to smile that this was finally happening. You never thought that this would actually happen.

#matt grzelcyk #matt grzelcyk imagines #boston bruins #boston bruins imagines #hockey #hockey imagine #nhl #nhl imagines #bruins #bruins imagines

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johannstutt413 · 4 years

Text

(requested by anonymous)

The Doctor was getting his daily exercise in at the gym, punching the shit out of a bag because he didn’t have enough carpal tunnel already, when FEater flying jump kick’d the punching bag next to him, managing to land on her feet. “Hey, Doctor! Can I borrow you for something today?”

“Depends on what you need to borrow me for,” he shrugged, still punching.

“Lava and Nian found an Infected-only movie studio while they were working on their New Year’s film, ” she explained, “and when they found out I’m with RI, they wanted to know if I’d star in one of their films. I’ve got a script, and I need to practice, but I need someone to read lines with. Can you read with me?”

He thought about it before agreeing. “I’ll finish up here and find you later, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, sure! Message me when you’re free?”

“Will do.” Wait a minute. “You’re not here for a punching bag or anything?”

She shook her head. “I just figured you’d be here. Gotta get back to the editing room, but I’ll see you later!”

“Yeah, see ya.” The Doctor went back to his boxing, but he had to wonder: why him? Surely there were better actors on-base, right?

After finishing his workout and a shift in his office, it wouldn’t have surprised FEater if he’d forgotten her request; fortunately for her, he hadn’t, and so one shower later, he made his way to the Ursan’s dorm. “FEater? I’m here.”

“One sec!...Stupid dress.” She wasn’t quite done grumbling when she answered the door, but seeing his face seemed to improve her mood substantially. “Come on in, Doctor.”

“Gladly. That’s a really nice dress on you.”

She smiled. “Thanks! So, since the scene happens at a restaurant, I went ahead and set a table. You know, for props.”

“There are queues, too? Alright, fair enough.” The Doctor sat at the table, noting the copy of a script where there might normally be a menu. “Who am I in this scene? I see a name, but there’s no description of them...”

“You and I used to be operatives for agencies which rarely worked together in the past, but while assigned to a mission together, there was a spark of something - love blooming on the battlefield, you know how it is. We finished the job, things changed regarding our employment, and now we’re making good on a promise we made to go get dinner ‘sometime.’” She adjusted her sunglasses, atop her head even indoors.

He smirked. “This sounds more like a romance than an action movie.”

“Oh, it is. I’m more than just a fighter, you know.” FEater gestured to the bottle. “You’ve got the first line and a few glasses of wine to pour, Doctor.”

“Right. Let’s see here…*pouring two glasses of wine* - Wait, this is a real bottle.”

She shrugged. “I usually have a little something when doing readings.”

“Fair enough. Alright, acting time. ‘I’m regretting letting you pick the place - after the Larkin fiasco, I can barely afford the appetizers. Hope you don’t mind sharing an entree.’” Following the script’s advice, he took a sip, thankful she’d gone for red instead of white.

“‘Consider it my treat; it’s my fault you were taken off the force, and I have some money stowed away.’” She sighed. “‘I’d hoped our first date would be a bit more triumphant than this.’”

The Doctor’s smirk from earlier returned with a vengeance. “‘Tch. The writing was on the wall from the moment they put us on that case...You ever wonder why they picked us to sacrifice?’”

“‘Luck of the draw, I guess.’”

“‘Chance had nothing to do with it.’” He stared into his wine, the show of confidence wavering. “‘You said as much when we met.’”

FEater leaned forward, and the Doctor’s eyes drilled into the bottom of his glass. “‘A few weeks ago, I was the golden child in my unit. Now, I’m paying for dinner with a guy I met on a mission in and out of the jaws of hell and using a grant for a master’s degree I never finished to do it. As wrong as I was about my future, I’m willing to admit I might’ve been wrong about a few other things.’”

“‘Well, as the one you constantly proved wrong during that trial by fire, I’m glad to have gotten at least one thing right in all of this.’”

“‘Oh, really?’” She reclined back in her chair, draining her glass with one gulp and sliding it back onto the table. “‘And what was that? Nothing about the case, clearly.’”

He looked at her with a mix of admiration and hurt. “‘That was uncalled for.’”

“‘Sorry, I just...Everything’s downhill from here, you know? I don’t have anything to show for the five years of my life, all because I let one aptitude test decide where I spent it.’”

“‘...As selfish as this sounds, I’m glad you did.’” The Doctor refilled her glass before topping off his. “‘The only good thing that’s happened to me since getting that assignment was meeting you.’”

She stared at him. “‘You’re serious?’”

“‘You’re the only reason I’m here. I live an hour away from this restaurant, which is out of my price range and offers maybe three dishes I know anything about; I swore off of dating after I got mugged by a date’s ex after she’d shot me down; and I’d promised myself that I’d never consider dating someone from my career field, so by all accounts, this is exactly the last place I want to be, doing the exact last thing I’d expect to do...And not only did I still come here to see you, but I would’ve walked here if I had to.’”

“Hoo, boy.” FEater took a deep breath, fanning herself. “Sorry to break the scene, Doctor, but...I didn’t expect you to come across so authentically. It feels like you’re actually confessing to me.”

He scratched at the back of his neck. “I just did what came naturally. Was it really that good?”

“I’ve worked with professionals less attrac- I mean, less convincing than you.”

“Hang on a second...” The Doctor swirled his glass with a Machiavellian air. “I think I understand why you chose me now.”

She chuckled. “I guess I gave it away with that, didn’t I? Up until I said that, did you have any idea?”

“Honestly, no, I didn’t even think that was possible. Attractive? Really?”

“Your mirror must lie to you if you haven’t realized it yourself.” She stood up. “Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag, I don’t have to use my secret weapon, so-”

He held up a hand. “FEater, you can’t just tell me you had a secret weapon and get away with it.”

“Alright, then. How’s your back right now?”

“Um, fine, I guess.” What kind of question was that? “What are you-”

FEater turned her script completely over and moved the wine off the table. “Very last page.”

“*Sudden detonation from behind Vivia-* No, there’s no way you-”

“Remember how I’m a video editor?” She grinned, tapping her glasses. “I do a bit of effects work, too. Who do you think takes care of my gauntlets?”

The Doctor looked under the table. “Where the hell’s the-”

There was an audible boom as the table was blasted aside by an air cannon; as the launch occurred, FEater leapt forward, tackling him out of his chair and to the ground pressed firmly on top of him.

“My secret weapon! Or secret weapons, I guess. Heh.”

“...Smooth,” he managed once his breath returned. “Now that we’re on the same page, I’m getting kind of hungry. How about we go out tonight?”

She shook her head. “I’ve got some pizza on the way; don’t feel like going out tonight.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because you’re here already.” FEater brushed aside the Doctor’s errant bangs, licking her lips. “And I’ve got you right where I want you~”

#arknights #FEater (arknights)#star stuntsperson editor and effects manager #there's nothing this panda can't do #except want to get out of bed if the Doctor's in it #obviously #arknights fic

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 4 years

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Love How You Hate Me - Sam x Reader

A/N: Part Twelve is finally here. I kept it longer, to kind of make up for the gap. It seems life doesn’t quite know when to settle down. So, I won’t make any undue promises. Instead, I’ll just offer this for today. Here we go... As always, feedback is incredible. If you want tagged, please send an ask or message so I am sure to see it. Same goes if I missed your tag. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Uncomfortable family dinner. Feelings. Talk of murder/attacks. Usual show violence. Smut. Outside sex. Minor blindfolding and ice play. Not enough editing. That’s all, I believe.

Word Count: Roughly 6,100

“So,” You played with the food on your plate as Sam spoke up to break the silence, “anything exciting happen since we left?”

You were with the boys in South Dakota. Sioux Falls to be exact. Sitting at Jody Mill's table next to Alex while Claire sat at the end, by Dean. Jody to your left.

Alex was graduating, and Jody had invited the boys out. You were simply a tag along to aid in your restlessness. And there wasn't a chance you were giving up the opportunity to finally meet the infamous Mills.

“Alex has another boyfriend.” The blonde spoke up, grinning mischievously. Knowing exactly the response it would garner. “Not a vampire this time.” Clarifying statements helped, but not enough.

“Oh, you do?” You bit back a grin as Dean's inner father escaped. He'd never admit it, but it was there. He cared about this family. Sam's brow rose, too. Equally alert. You felt for the poor girl. The boy could expect a visit if their expressions said anything.

“Shut up,” Alex shot Claire a dirty look. Sibling rivalry in full form. It was like looking at smaller, feminine versions of the brothers.

“Girls,” Jody's mom voice made you smile wistfully. You'd wanted to hear that dry, worn tone from a parental figure for as long as you could remember. Even if it wasn't directed at you, it warmed your soul. “Yes, she does.” She didn't sound pleased about the situation, but there wasn't any obvious animosity.

“He's a good guy.” Alex sighed out. Trying to smooth the waters. No doubt hoping this one wouldn't be beheaded, too.

“Uh oh.” Sam sipped on his drink, looking unimpressed as Dean settled back into his chair to lift his brows further. “One of those, huh?”

“One of what?” She definitely sounded defensive. With her family, she had every right.

“A Winchester type.” You clarified, making both brothers look at you as if you were a traitor. But, the shoe fit. “Good guys in a lot of ways, but come with a lot of trouble attached to them.” That was the understatement of the year.

Sam's lips hardened before a boot connected to your shin firmly. You barely held back the curse that wanted to slip out. He hadn't gone full force by any means, but it was enough to make you scowl his way all the same.

“Actually,” Jody spoke up, seeming kind of happy about your presence. “These guys were useless-”

“Jody... no.” Sam looked pained all of a sudden. Physically pained. His eyes averted to the table. Refusing to make eye contact with anyone. As if that would stop it.

“Oh, here we go.” Dean blew out a long puff of air, as if he had been hit in the gut. Reaching for his glass of wine. Draining it in one swoop. Both girls just looked resigned. Unable to escape from the table.

“Oh, now I'm intrigued.” You picked up your own glass. Taking a sip before immersing yourself into the family talk. “Hit me.”

“Birth control.” Jody left it at those two words. Nothing else was needed. However, the look in her eyes spoke volumes.

“Super important.” You nodded easily. Jumping into the fray without fear. “Literally, it's my lifeline. Kids aren't in the plan, right now.”

“See? I'm not crazy.” Jody pointedly looked at the young girls while ignoring the men at the table. Sam couldn't shovel food into his mouth any faster. It wasn't humanly possible. Dean was making good work of his wine for the second time. It was absolutely pathetic. Jody wasn't kidding when she used the word 'useless'. “And not just the pill, right?”

“Never just the pill. It's great for regulating periods, but this... this is your fall back guy.” You reached into your pocket. A foil pocket landed on the table. Almost as if you two had planned it. “And if that bad boy breaks, the morning after pill is a girl's best friend.”

A brief look of horror lined Sam's face before he pinched his eyes shut. Dean scowled deeply down at his plate. Refusing to make contact with anyone else.

“Thank you!” The mom's eyes were widened, as if she were crazed with relief. Sam peeked back open to inspect the damage. “Someone who will back me!”

“Guys should have them with them, too. But, not always the case.” Your eyes locked with Sam's for a second before you shrugged. “Been there a few times. Gotta pack it up.”

If it was possible, the boys settled further into their funk.Sam looking away, tongue in cheek, Dean glancing around the room. Jaw working all the while..

As the conversation shifted, another kick landed on your shin in response to your cheap jab. It took all your strength to keep your face straight and not return the favor. Instead, you slipped off your shoe. Planning to fight dirty.

Your foot trailed up his leg lightly, making him freeze. Tickling him with the light touch of your toes. A shuttering breath escaped his lips as the hazel gaze landed on you. The table was narrow enough that you could just reach enough of him to draw his attention.

You continued to talk, acting as if you weren't teasing the younger Winchester underneath the table. His muscles were tightly coiled as he avoided the conversation. His eyes holding all kinds of promises whenever they met yours. You two hadn't been alone since he'd infiltrated your room after the party.

Only, you weren't giving him the chance to make up for it in a home filled with people. As soon as dinner was over, you slipped away. Two blankets, more wine in a bucket of ice, snacks and more packed away. A note left behind.

Having lived in the state before, you knew the ins and outs of the climate South Dakota held. Your favorite thing? Those rare moments when Aurora Borealis peeked through the clouded nights. It had been a reprieve from your life back in the day. By some miracle, it was due to appear in the skies when you'd gone back. You weren't going to miss a minute of it if you could help it.

There was a small clearing in the woods near Jody's you had discovered that had a perfect view towards the north. Ensuring if it didn't cloud up, again, they would be vibrant against the black silk of night. It'd be your bed for the time.

You covered the ground with pine needles you'd swept together, creating a soft cushion against the chilled ground. The needles were covered with the one blanket to provide a barrier before you unbunched the second for warmth. A habit you'd picked up during cold, late night hunts in the woods before. Your jacket was used as a pillow. Waiting patiently, you eyed the sky. Finding as many constellations as you could to kill the time.

–

“I hope ya realize how gross it is to hear my best friend talk about packin' it up...so she can screw my brother,” Dean grumbled, handling dishes with Sam for Jody. Still snarling.

The minute you'd pulled out the condom and looked at Sam, he'd known. He'd found you out 'cause of that slip, after all. You hadn't been nearly as smooth as you'd thought.

“Oh, here we go.” Sam sighed out, having predicted this coming the minute you'd donned that foil packet. This wasn't the first discussion. Likely not the last, either. “Drop it, Dean.” Soap splashed from his hand as Sam practically tossed his brother the plate to dry.

“You want me to drop it?” Dean's voice dropped into a deadly low. Scrubbing harshly with the towel. The action being the only thing keeping the oldest from strangling the youngest. “I'll drop it when you stop sleeping with my best friend.”

It had taken a long talk, and every piece of Sam's persuasion skills to keep everything under wraps. Dean hadn't kicked his ass, miraculously. And wouldn't let the cat out of the bag. You wouldn't know that you'd been found out. That didn't mean he liked any of it, though.

Dean swore venomously that he would gladly send his brother to the hospital if you ended up hurt. Or pregnant. Or with crabs. Etc. He'd been very thorough in his list.

But, he wouldn't interfere. The only thing that had saved Sam's life was that Dean had heard you inviting Sam to his room. Not, the other way around. Thank god for small mercies...

“I'll stop when I want to.” He shrugged, “Or she wants to.” It was that simple in his mind. The full lips beside him pulled down further.

Dean shuddered in open disgust, “I still don't get it.”

“You don't have to.” Sam returned, running a sponge over the final plate. “Just know we're both consenting adults.”

“Sneaky, consenting adults.” Dean muttered. It wasn't that it had happened that bothered him so much. It was how you'd snuck around. And hadn't intended for him to ever know. The two people closest to him had played him for a fool. That was simply unforgivable.

“Dude,” Sam shook his head before repeating the same idea again. “Get over it.”

“I'll get over it when it's over.” He stated pointedly. Making his stance clear for the umpteenth time. “Maybe.”

“If Y/N and I can get past our differences-”

“Oh, please.” Dean snorted. Calling his brother on his bullshit without a moment of hesitation. “Past your differences? Ya had some kind of battle at dinner. You two aren't even close to past your differences.”

The mocking note in those final words brought out Sam's pettier side, “I can think of a time or two where they haven't mattered-” Water sprayed at him before that thought could be finished. “Dude!”

“I agreed to keep you alive and not tell her, Sammy.” Dean sent his brother a withering glare. “But, that doesn't mean I want anymore details.” His hand came out in defeat as he wilted, rubbing over his face. “I just can't wrap my head around it.. You two...shit, Sam...all you do is fight.”

“I haven't exactly figured it out, myself.” Sam replied. Solemn as he dripped water. Genuinely sorry that his brother felt any kind of weird over it all. But, he'd be damned if that stopped him.

Sam went out for a walk as night approached. Needing the cool, crisp air to clear his mind. To get it off of his brother. Off of you.

You'd run off somewhere. Left a note, saying you'd be back by morning. No text. No call. A few items missing. He had no idea when you'd left, much less to where. And it bothered him. A lot. And he was further agitated by the fact he was even bothered to begin with.

As he stewed, he almost missed it. The tiniest hint of smoke filled the air. He followed the scent. Ready to fight to the death if he had to in order to protect his family. Instead, he found something much more alluring than he'd anticipated.

He'd recognize that outline, anywhere. Your head was supported by a clumped up wad of cloth as you stared at the sky. Lower body wrapped, you looked almost too peaceful to disturb. A small fire, nothing more than a source of light, was going beside you. A white beanie was pulled onto your head to help keep yourself warm in the chilled night.

“Didn't know camping was your thing.” His voice made you jump and reach for your gun instinctively. Stopping once you realized it was Sam.

“How'd you find me?” You asked, your brow furrowing as you sat up. Hadn't anticipated on a Sasquatch stumbling along on your camp.

“Bad luck.” The way he said it had your lips tilted up. False loathing wasn't his strong suit. “What're you doing out here?”

“Did you know that the Northern Lights come down this far?” You looked back up to the sky that was quickly darkening. Waiting for the tinge of green to begin.

“Never really stopped to look.” He sauntered over to your blanket, his hands in his pockets still. It wasn't a proud admission. Simply another one of those things his lifestyle had prevented.

“I did.” You smiled lightly, but the look in your eyes said there was a story behind it. Before, he wouldn't have cared. But, in that moment? He wanted every detail. “It was the best part of living in the upper states. The winters can be shit...but then there's moments where the real beauty shines through. Almost makes it all worth it.” You patted the blanket beside you. Inviting the moose to the party. “Might as well wait. Add an experience to your list.”

“You've already added a few.” He pointed out, reaching for the wine you'd brought with. Taking a swig from the bottle, he rested on the thick material.

“Nothing wrong with living on the wild side.” You shrugged out. Not even the slightest bit ashamed. Sam couldn't help but to wonder if you'd feel the same once you realized it wasn't as secret as you thought.

“So, when are these things supposed to show up?” He demanded, looking up at the sky. Turning his thoughts away from the negativity Dean had wormed into his head.

“About another hour, maybe two.” You answered, taking the bottle back for a drink of your own. “There's time to kill.”

“And how do you want to do that?” His eyes glinted with heat that you reacted to, but pushed away.

“Let me play with your hair?” You suggested, making a point to look him dead in the eye. Letting him know you were serious.

“No,” He shook his head, letting the part of him you'd mentioned sway with the motion.

“Please?” You stuck out your bottom lip in a pout. “I'll let you have your filthy way with me when I'm done.”

“Selling yourself for that?” His brow came up. But, his lips tugged down into the dimpled smile that had rarely been bestowed on you.

“I know,” You huffed dramatically. Rolling your eyes as if it was the greatest task to endure. “It's amazing...the lengths I'm willing to go just to play with those luscious locks of yours.”

“That bad, huh?” Sam was unable to resist the small chuckle that escaped.

“Terrible.” You assured him, moving closer. “So, please?” Your eyes were batted in a full beg. “Make it worth my while, Sammy.”

“On one condition.” He held up his finger as you lit up in excitement. Instantly, your face fell in distrust. “We try something new-” You opened your mouth to protest. “As long as you're comfortable.” The quick amendment made you pause. Your eyes stared at his hair calculatingly as you debated on whether the hair was worth actually trusting him.

Finally you nodded, “Fine. Now...come to mama, Goldilocks.” He rolled his eyes, but moved over so that his back was turned to you. There wasn't a moment of hesitation.“I need to steal your shampoo and conditioner.” You sighed out as your hands brushed through the silky locks. No split ends, or damage anywhere to be found. Just nirvana.

“Well, we could always share later...” You could hear the grin with that husky undertone. It'd be risky in the bunker. But, hunts opened all kinds of new possibilities.

“Maybe.” Your own lips were etched into a smile as you stood on your knees. Turning away from the thoughts. “Now, hold still.”

“What're you doing?” He demanded, trying to turn his head around. You simply pressed his cheek back before you started braiding.

“Playing.” You responded easily. Focusing on the task. A small, simple rope rested in his hair before you spoke again. “Since we're doing cliché best friend shit? Time to spill a secret or two.” Teasing came easy as you used your fingers to start on another twist.

“One secret?” He nodded softly. Making you freeze at the thoughtful words. “Deal.”

“Wait, Sam...” You spoke up in a hurry. Dropping your hands as if he'd burned you. “I was kidding-”

“No, it's...It's fine.” He let out a breath. Sam didn't know where the urge came from. But, ignoring it wasn't an option out in the small oasis you'd created in the woods. “I'm the one who said we'd try something new, remember? Two seconds ago? How deep are we talking?”

“Well,” You chewed your lower lip. Regretting ever opening your mouth as you reached back up to his hair. “Girl talk can get pretty intense. But, considering this isn't girl talk? I'll let you decide.”

“Alright,” He settled more on the blanket; enjoying the feeling of your fingers rubbing along his scalp. “I still feel...feel guilty about abandoning Dean...back when he was in purgatory.” Your hands paused momentarily, but you went back to work. Absorbing the raw regret in his voice.

“Why didn't you look?” You asked quietly. Not sounding the least bit judgmental. Instead, simply opening the door for more explanation. Knowing he wanted to talk to someone about it. Just not understanding why it was you he'd chosen.

It was his turn to process that one. Trying to decide if he really wanted to open all the way up. Especially to you of all people.

“I...I...I thou...I thought he died.” He answered finally. Sounding broken at the thought. “I didn't think there was any bringing him back. Not ...Not without Cas...if...if it was even possible.” Sam remembered every moment his brother had been gone. How easily he'd given up. The way he'd let Amelia distract him.

“So, you tried to move on.” You finished softly. Moving your fingers to coax the tension that had appeared in him away. “Understandable.”

“N...Not in our world, Y/N-”

“I'm part of your world, Sam.” You stated softly, massaging his scalp. Earning a low groan of approval he hadn't even meant to release. “Trust me. It makes sense...none of it comes with a map. There was no... guidance. We figure it all out by going through all this shit...You had no way of knowing he was alive.” Your fingers moved down, rubbing along his neck before moving to his shoulders. The massage deepened. Demanding he relaxed. Listened. “When are you going to stop believing that you're the root of the problem, and start realizing that you're part of the solution? You and Dean both have done so much for this world...Even after all the bullshit it dumped on you two.” You took a break, deciding if he really needed the boost enough to get the next few words out. “Besides...Dean knows you care, still...You two are...You two are kinda goals when it comes to family closeness. Even with all the dysfunction.”

“Never thought that I'd hear that from you.” But, some of the tension left his body.

Absorbing the empowering words from a person who had every right to hate him. Someone who could have taken what he'd said and used it as a weapon. Someone who was causing him to get under his brother's skin, again. Adding to the damage that still existed. Even if you didn't know.

“Yeah, well... I never thought I'd say it to you, either.” Your lips pulled up. Smiling at him when he turned to look you in the eyes. Searching for the sincerity in the E/C. “Doesn't make it any less true, Sam.”

“So... what's yours?” He moved on, not wanting to dwell on his insecurities. Sitting straighter up as he pushed away his doubts involving his brother. A move to reassert himself as a man who didn't need to lean on someone else.

“Guess I gotta match it with one of the deeper ones, huh? I'll be honest...it's not as good as yours.” Your teeth sank into your bottom lip for a minute as your fingers slipped away from the chestnut locks. “My first kill? It was before I turned eighteen.” You shrugged as it didn't matter. But, there was more to the story. Sam could hear it in every word that escaped. The way your eyes wouldn't meet his when he turned spoke volumes. “You and Dean were hunting before then. So, it probably seems like no big deal. But...it...it really shook me up.” Still did based on the way your breath shook. “He...he wasn't even a monster.” You let Sam pull away. Believing that he was appalled. Only to find his hands reaching for you after he turned your way better. The hunter didn't hesitate. Tugging you until you fell into his lap. Needing to return the comfort you'd given him.“Well...not by our usual definition.”

“What happened?” He asked as softly as he could, his hands kneading along your tensed neck. Mimicking the way you'd touched him.

“He was abducting girls up by the Highway of Tears.” Memories clouded your vision. Taking you back to that time. “I'd gotten across the boarder. Trying to find something new...I was young. So...so sure that I'd be fine. He got a hold of me when my car broke down...so I did what I had to do.” Your finger trailed over a scar on your wrist. The only physical reminder that remained. Sam's gaze followed the movement. Curious, but not ready to push. “He didn't get a chance to cut deep before I broke free...I ran...can't remember how long it was. It felt like forever before I couldn't go any further.” The Winchester had an imagination that couldn't be rivaled. He could picture it perfectly. You sitting against a tree. Bleeding. Terrified. Trying so hard to catch your breath. “I found a sharp branch. Must've broken off during a storm...he hadn't counted on that.” You took a long drink from the wine, letting it start to warm your blood. Needing the sensation to feel that much more alive. “I jammed it in his throat when he grabbed me...He'd left at least ten other girls in the foliage right off of the road. Who knows how many uncovered bodies.”

“Jesus, Y/N...” He couldn't imagine the fear. How the guilt would've eaten at you.

His first kill had technically been a salt and burn. But, his first real kill had involved a knife and a woman determined to eat a piece of his brain. He'd been younger, but he'd been trained enough to take it better than a young girl on her own. Raised by two hunters that got him through it. You'd had no one to talk you down. To make sense of it all.

“I don't regret it.” You looked back at him. Making that much clear. There'd been too much time to dwell on it. To see it objectively. “I just wish that I had been a little older...maybe been with someone who'd been through it.” You shrugged it off as though it didn't matter. Despite the fact that it did. “After that? I always kept a blade on me. Just happened to be silver. My second kill was a werewolf...” Memory lane wasn't filled with happy. Another small shrug left you. “Dean thinks he was my first.”

“That's when you and Bane started hunting together.” Sam connected the dots. He'd heard enough about the wolf to fit the timeline together. Amazed that he was getting something his brother didn't know anything about.

“Yeah... He didn't tell me about the life before that. He'd actually run into Bobby when I was busy traveling through Canada....Seems like a life time ago.” The memories were bittersweet, then. So much history that had led you to the point where you were. “He assisted me with the wolf's body. Taught me what he knew... It got easier, then. Helped me realize that by taking out the bad? I was helping save the good. I needed that.”

“And then you turned into a bad ass.”

“And then I turned into a bad ass,” You agreed, turning to smile at him softly. Appreciating the attempt to cheer you up. “Bane doesn't even know about him.” Your eyes connected with the deep, soft hazel that rested above you. “He knows pieces... But, not...not all of it.” Wheels were turning in your head. That much was clear. Then, you spoke up again.“Yeah, I can't have you telling anyone about this. I only have two options here...” Teasing. Sam could live with that. It was easier than the dark and depressing. Familiar. “I have to kill you...or-”

“Or what?” Sam played along. His brow lifting as he waited for the answer.

“Or, you have to pinky promise not to tell anyone what was said out here.” You stuck out your pinky. Mouth tugged down in a mock frown.

“Really?” He laughed. Actually laughed. His head thrown back and all.

“I'm glad you find this amusing, but I'm serious.” You wiggled your pinky mullishly. “Come on! I'll agree to the same terms.”

“Fine,” He chuckled, wrapping his pinky around yours. Taking in the pinched expression you carried.

“Now, kiss your thumb.” You ordered before kissing your own. He did it, his hazel eyes still glowing in amusement. You pressed your thumb into his. “You break this promise? It becomes open season on moose men.”

“Deal...” His grip loosened. Moving instead to trace over the top of your hand. Hormones never seemed to settle when you were close. “Kissing my thumb was fun and all,” Sam grinned wolfishly your way. “But, I definitely know of something I'd rather kiss.”

“Oh, yeah?” You'd definitely caught his meaning. The heat in his eyes gave it away.

“Yeah.” His lips landed on yours gently. “Come here.” Orders usually fell short. But, with his mouth on yours? You were putty in his hands. Slowly, you let him tug you up until you were straddling his lap. “You know...I think we have a lotta time to kill until those lights make an appearance.” His thumb stroked your cheek almost tenderly as his eyes further darkened in the last bit of dusk and firelight.

“Sex outside?” Your arms wrapped around his neck. More than willing to take the distraction that he offered. “Sam Winchester...You're getting pretty adventurous.” Your lips ghosted over his, pulling back as he moved in to make full contact. “What happens if someone finds us?”

“Invite them to join the party, or ignore them.” He answered easily. Too set on what he wanted to give a damn. “You agreed to something new, Y/N... Don't back out now.”

“But did I pinky promise it-” You squealed as you were thrown beneath his body. Pinned down using nothing more than the heat of his body near you. “So forceful.” You got out breathlessly. “One of these days? We're going to have to switch roles. I never get to have any kind of control.”

“You already have too much, Y/N.” You didn't get a chance to process those raspy words before his mouth ceased conversation.

That dangerous tongue of his demanded entrance. Allowing it was second nature. Letting yourself become drunk off of the taste that was uniquely his mixed with the wine you'd both consumed. Your hands trailed over his body, opening his jacket. Getting closer to his skin.

Pieces of clothing were thrown as you two grew closer. More demanding. When you were naked and he was in nothing more than his boxers, Sam stopped. Looking over at the wine that was back in the ice- which was taking it's time melting.

“What?” You asked, still caged beneath him. The cool air in contrast to his body left goosebumps along your skin.

“Just how many new things can we get away with tonight?” His warm voice asked, sending more bumps along your flesh. The rough hand was busy running along your side as he glanced back at the bucket.

“Do it...” Your lips pressed into his collar bone. Giving your consent without even looking. Too horny to turn away anything he could come up with. At least, that was your excuse. “Whatever you're thinking? I'm in.”

“Just like that?”

“You haven't steered me wrong, yet.” You pulled his face back down to yours for a heated kiss. Encouraging him. “So, yeah... Just like that.”

“If you don't like it-”

“Sam... I get it. You'll stop.” It was sweet. Having someone care so much about needing your approval. You were starting to believe that you'd give into anything he asked of you. “Go for it.” His shirt was tied into a makeshift blindfold, covering your eyes. His body left yours for a minute, before it returned. As his lips pressed against yours, you felt the coolness. “Really?” You laughed, pulling away. “You watch 50 shades earlier, or what?” A cold drop hit your chest before you felt the ice press against your skin at the base of your throat. “You know what? It doesn't matter.” You huffed out, taking a shaky breath. You heard the small, muffled chuckle and could just picture his smug face, but that didn't matter as the ice moved.

The chill of the cube was combined with the heat of his mouth, creating an interesting combination as he pressed open mouthed kisses down your body. Cold swirling between your skin and him. He took his time, teasing. Trailing the ice over you.

Occasionally, it was left out on it's own to torture you instead of being combined with him. Other times, you only felt his lips, tongue, and teeth against your skin. He left little skin untouched by either. You never knew which to expect, or where. It drove you crazy as time faded away.

Sam Winchester had you moaning, gasping, and begging before he stopped. His favorite sound leaving you as he pulled away. You almost wilted in relief when the crinkle of the condom was heard. This time, you felt the blanket slide over your bodies as well when he was back over you.

As his lips pressed into yours, the blind fold was removed. He let your eyes adjust to the light from the fire. When they settled back on him, a small, not quite arrogant tug of his lips graced your view. At one point, it might have irked you. Instead, you pulled him back down to you. Kissing him deeply as you demanded more. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him down where you needed. Luckily, he had no problems reading the silent language.

You cried out his name passionately as he pressed into you. Not bothering to be quiet in the wilderness. He growled in response; picking up his pace to make up for lost time. To hear that needy, broken note leave your throat again. And again. One hand was busy keeping his weight from crushing you. The other holding your leg open so he could hit where he needed to. His fingers were sure to leave marks on your skin as he pounded into you relentlessly. Marks he was sure only you'd see.

You'd be feeling it for days the way he was going. Would think of him slamming in deep every time you saw a bruise. But, that didn't make you want to stop. Instead, you moved with him. Your hands pulling on his hair to earn one of those sexy growls. Or, scratching along his back to drag out a feral groan. Digging into his ass to guide him along. Anywhere you could get them.

You weren't typically a screamer, but there was something about Sam that drug the shouts from your lips. As you crashed over your climax, your head flew back and one left you brokenly. A few more erratic thrusts and he found his own release. His own shout being lost to the wind before he practically collapsed in relief. He rolled off almost immediately, breathing as heavily as you.

Immediately his gaze turned to your face. Looking for any more of the regret that had been known to linger. Instead, he found you watching the sky. A small smile gracing the still swollen mouth. Hair splayed out along the pine bed. Slowly, he looked up to see what you had moved onto.

“Wow.” Sam breathed out as he started settling down.

“Is that in reference to the sky... or the sex?” You asked, turning your head to look at him for the first time. Drawing his attention back to your face.

“Both.” He answered, taking the time to look back at you with a grin before going back to the sky. It was filled with green lights writhing lightly, mixed with some pink and even twinges of blue. They were brighter than you'd ever seen them before. “You weren't kidding.”

“No.” You smiled almost happily. “I wasn't.”

You two sat watching the skies quietly. Just enjoying the lights, the quiet, and each others presence. You weren't quite sure who made the first move, but you found yourself with your head resting on his shoulder. His heavy arm around your waist. Pinning your body to his under the blanket as he fell asleep. Once you were comfortable, and almost out, it clicked. You knew exactly what was missing, and your stomach dropped. You were falling for Sam freaking Winchester.

–

“Y/N!” Your lips twitched as the lisp ridden roar filled the air. All eyes turned to you. Not bothering to look up, the eggs in front of you were shoveled into your mouth. Simply waiting for the thundering buffoon to find his way to confrontation.

Finding a sense of safety in Sam Winchester's arms was unacceptable. It was pathetic how cozy you'd been. How easily you'd given up several of the rules that would ensure your protection. Once the lights were gone and you'd gotten your distance, you'd turned the tables back to where they should've remained the entire time.

The furious rumbling didn't stop until the giant leered above you. Lazily, you lifted your gaze to the dark, injured hazel. “You good?”

“I thwear to god.” You'd managed to mix Orajel into his tooth paste. Coated his toothbrush in the brew. Extra strength. Apparently he'd let it sit before hunting you down. “Why?”

“I got bored.” You dropped all pretenses as your fork was set down. Stubbornly, your jaw tilted upwards. Daring him to challenge it.

Jody watched the exchange quizzically from her place at the head of the table. Claire seemed to enjoy the childish antics. Grinning in appreciation at the numb mouthed beast in front of her. Alex was simply tired. Uninterested in the early morning drama after the first roar had been released.

Dean, however, waited for your response. Brow raised as he inspected the closest people in his life duking it out. Again. Trying to sort out if there was any real animosity behind the actions, or if it was an attempt to disguise the most recent late night disappearances.

The younger Winchester had no trouble discerning the issue. He'd seen that cold, detached expression time and time again. You were throwing up your walls after a hint of intimacy. And damn if that didn't make his skin crawl.

It was you who was the threat to him. One complaint to Dean and he'd be thrown on his ass. A single wrong move and Bane would geld him. But, you? Everyone would back you. No matter how it went. There was nothing that should've sent you running backwards in his eyes.

His nostrils flared as he fought to prevent himself from throwing you over his knee and being done with it, “Thith ithn't over.”

“I know.” The fallen tone had Sam rocking back on his heels. As if all fight had left you with a single sentence. Slowly, you got to your feet. Leaving nothing but confusion in your wake as you turned away.

Part Thirteen

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger @lilulo-12 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce

LHYHM: @burningmusicmachine @missmarrinette @sherlockedtash88 @rathersuspiciousbumblebee @sasbb23 @nothinbuttrouble2 @baby-bunker-pie @neii3n @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @malfoysqueen14 @calaofnoldor @hhiggs @sydneytea @hoboal87

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sweets-fanfics · 4 years

Text

Honeymoon [RE] 1

Title: are you an avenger?

Wordcount: 2785

Warnings: Little bit of violence, fluff, cursing

Tag: Let me know if you want to be tagged in this again

A/N: Ok here’s the redo. part 1 is mostly just editing mistakes that have been fixed. any chapter I post with RE means its edited and the new version

________________

“Mrs. Rogers, thank you for coming in early to do a mission. We’ve been having a problem with a certain…mercenary.” Coulson smiled as you sat in front of him.

“It isn't like it was my honeymoon or anything right?” You smiled sweetly but Phil could tell how pissed you actually were.

“How is the new husband?” He asked trying to make light of the subject. “Bet he's been happy.”

“I wouldn't know. You made May get me in the middle of the night. I had to leave a note. So who is this merc?” you asked opening the file. “Isn't this the loony immortal guy?”

“Wade Wilson has been a little trouble lately. We are going to send you In as someone who's going to be a sort of assistant. But make sure he stays out of trouble.”

Stay out of trouble they told me. you said to yourself over and over. You'll be out in no time, you were promised. Bullshit. you watched in the shadows as Deadpool shot down a Hydra agent. you trailed him back to some old Jankie apartment.

“Mr. Wilson?” you asked using a fake smile. “My name is Mrs.” Crap what was my name? “Y/L/N” that'll work. “I've been sent to be your assistant for your… Deadpool activities.”

“Who the hell sent a 12 year old to watch me?” He didn't turn around but continued to keep trying to unlock his door.

“Professor Xavier sent me.” you lied. “And I'm not babysitting I promise. I'm just here to keep you organized. Also I'm not 12, I'm in my twenties.”

He looked at you for a moment then sighed, “alright come in. Don't break anything I'll let you help me and Al around the house.”

“Al?” you asked. There was no Al in the file. you were completely confused until you walked inside and saw a blind black woman sitting in the front room. “Does she know you live here?”

“Yeah. I know. Sadly. And who are you?” you asked in a grumpy voice.

“I’m a friend of Wade’s.” you said sweetly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Al blindly (yes blindly) raised your hand out for you to shake. you quickly took your hand and shook it softly. “Weak ass handshake. You’re definitely a secretary.” Bitch. “I feel a ring too. You married?” Shit. I forgot to take it off.

“No. It… It was my mother's.” Sorta a lie, it’s actually Steve’s mother's ring.

“Hm.”

you decided now was a good time to turn back to Wilson. “So, Mr. Wilson, Anything you need me to do for you?” you said in your nicest voice.

“No. Just go home. I think I’m going to take the rest of the day off.”

“Are you absolu-”

“I’m sure. See ya later little kid.”

“Not a little kid.”

He smirked. “Haha, whatever.” you turned to leave but Wade stopped you. “Hey, You aren’t an Avenger are you?”

your heart stopped for a second. “What the hell would give you that idea?”

“Yeah…. Anyway it’ll probably turn out that you're dating Captain America or something.”

“I have to go.”

-----

You walked into the apartment as you slipped off your shoes and tossed the keys in the little bowl that sat neatly on a tiny table by the front door. “I’m home.” Then it hit you; was Steve even back yet?

To answer your question Steve poked his head around the corner. “Hey, welcome home.” He disappeared to put something down but then reappeared and came to give you a soft peck on the lips.

you giggled when you saw the apron on him. “What are you wearing?”

“I was cooking dinner for you.” He gave you the half grin that made your heart melt. “It’s all done.” He took your hand and led you into the kitchen. The table for two was set up nicely with a single rose sitting in a vase.

“Fancy.” you smirked at Steve.

“Sorry. I didn’t have much time to prepare. Seeing as our honeymoon was cut so short.”

you wrapped your arms around him and smiled. “I’m sorry for that. My mission is horrible though.”

“I don’t think you can talk about your mission. Right?” You rolled your eyes and looked at him. “So, what are you doing on your mission?”

You grinned, “Well, I’m basically babysitting Wade Wilson.”

Steve sighed, “I’ll get you a glass of wine.”

-------

You knocked on Wade’s bedroom loud and hard the next morning. “Good morning Mr. Wilson.” Al was somehow making herself a cup of coffee and even handed me a mug. You took a sip and it definitely did not taste like coffee.

“You’re still here?” You could hear him yell into his pillow. “Can you believe her?” You could also hear him talking to someone else but when you opened the door he was all alone.

“Who are you talking to?”

“The reader…”

You took a long sigh not understanding him. He’s crazy. Just let him off the hook. He probably had some sort of learning disability before becoming a lab rat. You gave him a sweet smile and handed him the cup of ‘coffee’. “How did you sleep?”

“I fell asleep an hour ago.” He took a big slug of the drink and instantly spit it out and cringed. “How was your date with Captain America?”

You rolled your eyes. “I told you I don’t even know the guy.” Steve this morning had left for a long two week mission this morning so at least you didn’t have to worry about him calling and Wade seeing any caller ID. “What are you doing today?”

“I’m going to go shoot bad guys in the fucking face.” He said to you like he was talking to a toddler.

“Sounds interesting. May I accompany you?”

“Nope. you are going to stay here and help Al.” He put on his red suit and started for the door.

“Pool!” You said crossing your arms.

“Now what!”

“Duffle bag.”

He stopped and looked at you silently. “Shut the fuck up.” He grumbled grabbing the duffle bag and hurrying out.

You stood in the doorway watching him get in his cab and leave. “Such a mouth on him.”

You could hear Al sit on the couch behind you. “Are you going after him?” she asked.

“Duh.” You pulled out your bag you had hidden with your suit. It pained you to take off the Avenger patches since you were so proud of your title. You went into his room and quickly changed. “Do you mind if I hide my bag in your room?”

“Just put it against the wall so I don’t trip.”

“Don’t tell Wade it’s in their.”

“No shit Sherlock.”

You rolled your eyes and went out the front door locking it behind you.

-------

~Steve

“Cap?” Sam asked Steve, snapping out of what he was thinking about.

“Hm?” He looked up at the entire team looking at him. He was working with Sam, Clint and the director sent one of his people. A girl named Daisy. “Sorry. I spaced out.”

“Honeymoon’s over.” Clint smirked.

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“I have to ask as your teammate.” Clint’s smirk got wider. “Are you so down because you two weren’t able to..” Steve looked at him confused as Daisy rolled her eyes and went back to her laptop. “You know.”

Steve’s face turned bright red as he stayed silent looking at Clint. Sam started to chuckle.

“Is that a yes? A no?”

“Agent Barton, maybe he thinks it’s not your business to know.” Daisy said, eyeing him. “We are getting close so you should probably start flying again.” Steve liked this girl.

Clint groaned annoyed and walked back to the pilot seat.

“We did.” Steve said softly.

“That’s my boy!” Clint clapped his hand as Sam crossed his arms grinning at Steve.

“Dude.” Daisy sighed. “You totally just gave into peer pressure.”

“Pier pressure?” Steve asked.

“Don’t tell me that wasn’t a thing in the forties. I think you’ve finally been here long enough to know what that is.”

“Don’t be too hard on Steve.” Sam smiled. “He hasn’t even been to Disneyland yet.”

“That’s sad.” Daisy and Clint said together.

“Don’t we have a mission to do?” Steve sighed finally showing how annoyed he was.

-----

Two Years Ago

Tony waited patiently in the elevator with the Secretary of State. “This is why I needed you to not put me on hold.” He mumbled to himself.

“You didn't tell me she was in custody.” Tony sighed, rolling his eyes. “Her brother is going to have a field day.”

“Speaking of Banner, you track him yet?” Thaddeus asked. Tony could tell Thaddeus was annoyed that he’d been avoiding even searching for Bruce since he disappeared after sokovia.

“Don’t worry. Bruce will pop up eventually. He's going through some stuff.” Tony looked away and mumbled ‘I think’ under his breath.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened at the cell area of the floating prison. The two men walked up to one of the glass cells only to be met with a cold glare.

“Geez. With that kind of look? You’d think I did something wrong.” Tony joked knowing it only made the situation worse. He cleared his throat and looked at the girl with the crazy hair and hands in special gauntlets that Tony was trying to figure out what they were for. “Listen, Y/N, I'm here because I want to talk to you.”

She smirked. “Funny. Now we are going to talk?”

Tony sighed. “Can Y/N and I sit face to face without a glass between us.”

“it might be safer for you if we do it like this.” The Secretary of State warned.

“Just do it.” She hissed.

-----

They sat me down at a stainless steel table and chained my legs down. Tony sat across from me but I could already feel the electricity from the suit he had compacted somewhere on him. I looked over in the corner and saw an extra chair against the wall. “What are the gauntlets for?” Tony asked me.

“I don't play well with others.” I said sarcastically with a grin.

“they minimize her power use.” Thaddeus sighed. “Something happened to her when she was in Sokovia with you guys. She said when she went to rescue Romanoff with her brother she touched something down there and it… Did something to her.”

“You’re… enhanced?” Tony asked me.

“The gauntlets are so I won't shock anyone to death. I only get one water bottle a day because if I had more water I could drown someone. There’s no earth nearby so I can't make a hole and escape. And I don't get AC.”

“That storm outside is her doing.”

I smirked. “I'm officially cooler than iron man.”

“Well, we’ll see about that.” Tony crossed his arms, “Why didn't you tell anyone?”

I shrugged, “Wanda knew.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Duh. But you could have told us. We would have listened.”

I sighed and crossed my arms. “You would have locked me up like this.”

“You are only here because-”

“Because I didn't fight on your side.” I finished his sentence. “Because I believe in what Cap was saying.”

“I was going to say because you helped Steve break out everyone else.”

“I didn't even use my ability though. I just hacked the computer system.”

Thaddeus sighed, “Tell him how.”

I looked down guilty, “I got through their security using electricity but made it look like I used a computer.”

Tony sighed and rubbed his eyes. “You’re making it hard to get you out.” He turned to the Secretary of State. “Can I talk to her alone?”

he grumbled but left willingly. That's when I sat up and waited for the signal. I smiled at Tony sweetly. He automatically looked at me suspicious. “What?”

“Don't you think it's funny?” I asked him. “It's so funny that they think I can't use my abilities if they cover my hands.”

Before Tony had time to react I mustered up all the wind I could and threw the chair at the back of his head knocking him out. I froze my gauntlets and banged them on the table until they shattered and then did the same with the chains on my feet.

By the time I was on my feet the door to come in was opening. I stood my ground ready to fight, but when I saw Steve give me a confused smile, I relaxed. “You’re late.”

“We got busy.”

“Doing what?”

Steve looked down at the knocked out Tony. “Y/N, did you have to knock him out?”

“Did you want to fight him again?”

Sam walked into the room and looked at Tony. “Holy crap. Damn Y/N, you sure know how to make a point.”

“He threw me in jail. I was a little ‘salty’ about it.”

Wanda groaned, “Do not use that word.” she peaked in the room moving her hair behind her ear. “Americans annoy me so much when they use stupid words like that.”

“Sorry.” I mumbled as I looked at Steve again. He was wearing all black and it looked good on him. “Black strangely suits you.”

“Thanks?”

“Anytime.” I winked at Steve making him blush.

“Uh… Ok. Flirt later.” Sam said in disgust.

------

You watched Deadpool shooting people through the scope of your sniper. It was your personalized weapon. It can be an assault rifle or a sniper. You had become inspired after playing a new videogame. After certain events you promised Steve (and the director) that you would stop using your enhanced abilities. Once in a while, however, you use it to help with certain everyday activities. When you're home alone of course.

You watched as a Hydra agent walked behind Deadpool to surprise attack him. You quickly aimed up and took your shot, taking him out in an instant. Deadpool looked around and when he finally looked in your direction you smiled sweetly and waved.

You got up from your spot and went to join him. He was finishing off the last guy when you joined him. “What the hell was that?” He asked.

“I’m a sniper.” You shrugged.

“You are an Avenger.”

“I don’t even work with SHIELD. I told you Professor X sent me.”

“Bullshit! He works with Mutants. What is your mutant gene?”

You sighed and held up one hand. You made marble sized balls of all the elements and moved them around in your hand. “I control elements. I was in the military when I got them.”

“So you weren’t born with them?” He asked.

“No. It was an accident. Sorta like yours, minus the never ending torture and overly strong women who love matches.”

“The match thing was in whatever file you read?”

You nodded. “Those two; Francis and Angel worked for a group called Hydra. Sh- The X-men have been hunting them for a while. I believe the Avengers are as well.”

“So those are the bad guys. Due to Copyright, in my movie we just called them bad guys, or Francis’s men.” He put his hands on his hips and stretched back.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Anyway, I have a hot date. So you need to disappear.”

“Are you giving me the rest of the day off? On my first Official day?”

“Leave.” You rolled your eyes and walked off resting your gun on your shoulder. “You’re kinda hot walking away like that.”

“I’m not dating Captain America but I’m not single.”

“Ouch, Shot down without a second glance.”

____________________-

Later that night as you sat on the couch reading over files your phone rang. You assumed it was Wade drunk calling you again and answered without looking at who it was.

“Now what Wade? You think you found some other way to prove I’m dating Captain America?”

“Hun?” Steve asked confused.

“Oh crap. Hi Sweetie. Sorry. Wade’s drunk.”

“Well at least you're having fun.” You could tell right away something was wrong.

“What happened?” You asked suspiciously.

“Clint keeps asking questions.” You could tell he was embarrassed for some reason.

“About?” You asked but you were already guessing what it might be.

“About our honeymoon.”

“Tell him to stick his questions right up his-”

“Hold on a second.” Steve said cutting you off. He leaned away from the phone talking to someone. “Y/N?” He asked checking if you were still there. “I have to go. This mission might end early. I’ll call you tomorrow night and tell you what’s happening.”

“Oh. Ok. I love you.” You said into the phone sadly.

“I love you Doll. Sleep well.”

#honeymoon #honeymoon redo #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #sam wilson #wade wilson #deadpool #Avengers #Avenger #avenger fanfiction #fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel comics

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rue-by-another-name · 6 years

Text

“Love Me Do” -Part 2 h.s. a.u.

Part 1

-----

Your first day on the job, Harry felt as though he was doing nothing but babysitting. It was almost as if everything you did, he had to walk behind you, both hands out as if directing a toddler taking her first steps, to only quickly undo whatever it was you had done.

He also quickly learned that you had zero concept of what any sort of alcohol was.

“What? Wha – no Y/N – I said the brandy. That’s vodka. How – never mind just grab the bottle with the darker liquid and the red seal.” Harry ran his hands through his hair as he watched you reach up on your tiptoes to reach a bottle. He suddenly had this vision of you falling and all the bottles breaking so he quickly ran up behind you and reached around you to grab the brandy bottle.

You stiffened at his touch, his warm and large hand coming to rest on the exposed expanse of skin on your hip as your shirt rode up.

“How do you not know anything about alcohol? You’re like, drinking age and in uni,” Harry chuckled, bopping your nose. The simple gesture weighed heavy on you, considering it was nothing more than a friendly gesture, and not something you would do for someone you fancied.

Again, you wanted to hit yourself for building up one simple touch in your head. Instead, you clutched the bottle close to your chest and gave him a hesitant smile. “My parents never drank. I’ve been doing homework all of my college life. And I live with two party girls who need to be constantly cared for.”

“You should let loose every once in a while,” Harry shrugged as he watched you attempt to open the bottle. He gently took it from your hands and opened it for you as he walked out from behind the bar to open it.

“I let loose when directing,” you called after him, “Through those I direct.”

Harry simply smirked before shaking his head. “Then what kind of life will you be living if you’re only living through others?”

“Oh God,” you groaned, “You’re such an actor. That was grossly cheesy. You should be ashamed.”

Harry laughed, “I guess it’s not something I can easily turn off.”

You went to say something else when the door opened and a blonde boy burst through. “I’m here!” he called before his eyes landed on you, “And you’re behind the bar!”

“Calm down Niall,” Harry rolled his eyes as he stacked the trays on the bar and handed Niall a beer. “She works here now.”

“I’m Y/N,” you said hesitantly.

“You’re that sad girl that always eats all the pretzels,” Niall nodded, “I remember ya.”

“I’m the who?” you asked, turning and looking to Harry who just put his hands up in defense.

“In our defense, you do always look rather sad,” he noted, “And Niall has no filter.”

“It’s nice to meet you Niall,” you grumbled before going back to cleaning out the glasses. The bell rang over the door again and Bea strut into the bar with a big smile on her face.

“Y/N! Babe!” she cried, “Look at you! Your first job not in a film store!”

You couldn’t help but blush a bit as you went to place a wine glass on the bar but missed the bar completely, the glass breaking at your feet as you stared at it in shock. Bea bit her lip and her eyes shifted from Niall’s to Harry’s before falling back to you.

“I’ve got it,” Harry chuckled, “Step away love.”

You felt your entire face burning red before you groaned and stepped away to where Bea was sitting and waiting for you.

“So it’s going pretty well, huh?” she asked hesitantly.

“I know nothing about alcohol and that’s the fourth glass I’ve broken,” you whispered.

“You’re doing great then,” Bea patted your shoulder, “And at least it can’t get any worse!”

You groaned and rested your forehead on the bar. “Chin up Y/N!” Harry called, “People are on their way!”

You watched the black silhouettes before they opened the door and actual real people walked in. The worried look on your face was noticeable to Harry and everyone else, but Harry quickly put you to ease.

“You’re only passing out beers,” Harry handed you four beers nestled between his fingers as you attempted to take the bottles in your significantly smaller hands. “And you can pour shots. I’ve watched you attempt to now five or six times. You’ll get the hang of it.”

He patted your shoulder before giving you a wink and going over to the ever-growing crowd of people. And the nice passed much like that – Harry was able to serve all the fancy drinks as you handed out beer after beer and did all the mathematics for each order. You handled all the tabs, and you rung everyone out. Harry watched you try to keep yourself busy, attempting to seem confident and in control of the situation. Your hair slowly started falling strand by strand from the ponytail it had once been placed in, and by the end of the night your face was flushed and your chest was slightly glistening with sweat.

“You did good tonight kid,” Harry offered his hand and you took it hesitantly before nearly dropping another empty glass, in which Harry quickly caught.

“I’ll get better; I promise,” you said earnestly. “I’ll research alcohol and –”

Harry laughed, “You don’t have to research anything,” he gave you a half-hug before grabbing a rag and tossing it to you. “Why don’t you wipe down the tables? Then you’ll be done for the night.”

You nodded and got to work. The rest of the work kind of worked out like this as well. You slowly got a bit more educated on how to make certain simple drinks, and continued to clean and hand out beers. Harry designated a stool in the back corner behind the bar for you to study and write when the bar was having a slow night.

The rhythm slowly set into place, and you started to feel a bit more comfortable around Harry. The more time you spent with him, the more at ease you would be whenever he looked directly at you, or his arm brushed up against yours behind the bar. You stopped letting his little comments like “kid” bother you, and just tried to do your job while getting your part of the script and planning done.

It was a Thursday when you jogged into the empty bar and slammed the binder down on the bar that Harry was wiping down.

“I was cleaning that,” Harry smirked but could see you were far too excited to care whatsoever.

“Here you go Mr. Styles,” you said proudly, “Your script.”

Harry picked it up and thumbed through it as he sighed. “Okay well, I see you’ll be using my bar as a set.”

“It’s not your bar, but considering I never see who actually runs this place –”

“He hates people.”

“- then I figured we could use it! Also, budget cuts,” you shrugged.

“So it’s a romcom,” Harry smiled.

“You’re a moody bartender, which shouldn’t be that hard for you,” you said gesturing dramatically to Harry, “And you’re in love with the florist across the street.”

“Across the street is an old abandoned bakery,” Harry looked out the window. “And you’re planning to turn it into flower shop?”

“Just for two days,” you nodded, “We’ll shoot everything in the store in two days so we can minimize the time we’re renting that place out. Also, I’m going to need to work a couple more hours so that we can rent that place out.”

“Isn’t your friend helping at all? Tad?”

“He’s doing what he can but his main job was to write the script. I edited it and changed some things after our talk and stuff, but he laid the groundwork.”

“Wait,” Harry narrowed his eyes, “You’re basically doing all the work.”

“No I’m not!” you gasped defensively.

“Yes you are!” Harry laughed, “You’re actually writing the script after Tad gave you what? 10 words?”

“That’s not how it went,” you rolled your eyes, “Just take the part and be grateful.”

“My name is Cooper,” Harry winced.

“What’s wrong with Cooper?!” you laughed.

“Basic,” Harry shrugged. You kneeled on the stool to reach over the bar and push Harry’s shoulder. He just laughed and continued to thumb through the script as you looked over his shoulder.

“I look forward to working with you then.” Harry looked up as you wobbled slightly and Harry grasped both your arms to steady you. Your faces were impossibly close, and you instantly hated yourself for putting yourself in such a situation.

“Oh fuck off,” you grumbled, climbing down and ducking under the bar to grab your waist apron.

“What?” Harry laughed and leaned against the bar with his arms crossed, “You’re in a mood.”

“I’m not in a mood!” you glared, “I’m just tired, okay? I’m not allowed in my flat tonight because both my roommates are bringing boys home. I’ve been at school all day and was so looking forward to a nap and night’s sleep but can’t anymore because I don’t have a boyfriend – again.”

“Again?”

“Yes, Harry. Again!” you burst.

“Well maybe you’ll meet someone tonight and can go home with him,” Harry shrugged, “That could be fun.

“I’m not getting my hopes up,” you grumbled, tossing your rucksack into the back before pulling your hair up. “But thanks for the pep talk; really appreciated it.”

You tried not to allow this rotten mood muffle your need to work as a peppy and happy person. And it was a good thing you decided this early on, because it wasn’t long before a large bridal party made their way into the bar.

“Hi!” one of the bridesmaids smiled as Harry greeted them with congratulatory shots on the house. “We have a game going on tonight and we get five points if we kiss a bartender,” she said flirtatiously, taking her shot as Harry looked on smugly.

Instantly your heart burst into jealous flames. Harry wasn’t yours; Harry was far from yours. But you still felt you laid some claim to him because of your hopeful heart. You could get more comfortable and allow yourself to relax around Harry all you wanted, but that still didn’t mean that your heart skipped a beat whenever you looked over at him. And seeing him now with these bartenders fawning over him surely gave you the jealousy you’d been trying to shove deep down since you’d started working here.

“And you have a girl bartender!” one of the already drunk bridesmaids said. “That’s perfect for Ryan! RYAN!”

The bridge and a handsome guy pushed their way through the crowd of ladies in pink sashes. You almost wanted to laugh at the “Man of Honor” sash Ryan was boasting on his strong chest.

“Just my luck then Lady Bartender,” Ryan gave an awkward bow as the girls all giggled and clapped.

“Yeah Lady Bartender,” Harry turned and smirked at you, “Just his luck.”

The night proceeded quite louder than you’d anticipated, and you retreated a bit to ringing up tabs and cleaning glasses as they were needed. You couldn’t stand looking at Harry flirting with all the bridesmaids, and you could tell he was milking this whole, “Which one of you should I kiss?” thing. You wouldn’t be surprised if he kissed them all on their way out the door.

“Excuse me?” You turned to see Ryan taking a seat at the stool opposite you and he smiled as you gasped and dropped another glass out of shock. Ryan winced at the sound of broken glass but it didn’t even phase Harry as he barely had to look for the broom before tossing it to you.

“I’m so sorry if I startled you,” Ryan bit his lip and your insides almost exploded. A boy was talking to you.

“I’m just a jumpy person in nature,” you sighed, “Harry keeps tabs of the glasses I break and makes me put money in a jar every time I do so.” You stepped aside for Ryan to see the half-filled jar of bills and cents you’d sacrificed in the past couple of weeks.

“You don’t strike me as someone here by choice,” Ryan chuckled, “You’re the quietest bartender I’ve ever met.”

“Keep tabs on bartenders, huh?” you joked. Ryan merely smiled.

“Just that you’re a lot less …” Ryan looked to Harry as he was leaning over the bar and talking rather closely with one of the bridesmaids. “… involved … than any other bartender I’ve met.”

Your eyes remained on Harry for a little too long before clearing your throat and turning back to Ryan. “Well, if I’m being honest I’m only here because I needed a job and a place to work with free wifi and Harry offered it.”

“Are you two a thing?” Ryan asked, taking a swig of his whiskey and gesturing to Harry.

“Oh God no,” you shook your head, “We’re from very different worlds, Harry and I. He would never go for someone like me and I would never waste my time chasing after someone like him.”

It wasn’t that Harry was listening in on your conversation, but considering you’d broken a glass and then he’d noticed you were talking to Ryan, he had perked up his ears a bit to hear where the conversation was leading. He frowned at this statement, looking over to see Ryan was still smiling and saying something to you that made you blush.

You were from different worlds? Harry knew people didn’t always have the most respect for struggling actors, but did you really think that differently or highly of yourself that you saw a difference? No, because you said he would never go for someone like you. Did that mean you thought you weren’t good enough?

Harry regarded you for a moment, watching the way you curled your one foot over the other as you laughed and leaned against the bar. You had a nice figure, but not a figure that would stop anyone in their tracks or make someone look twice. Your hair and makeup was always done nicely, you had a nice sense of style … but maybe it was just your mix of either too shy or too bored that turned people off. But you were sweet, Harry knew that now, and he wouldn’t say he had feelings for you in any romantic sense, but he cared for you and had gotten to know you well enough that he wanted whatever was best for you.

Regardless, the comment stuck in his head as he continued to serve people the rest of the night. He dodged bridesmaids left and right, and whenever he looked over to you, you would be tending to someone while Ryan still kept close. He was rooting for you, and hoped he didn’t see you at the end of the night.

“So you want to direct,” Ryan nodded, “That sounds like quite a busy job.”

“I’ve always loved movies but never enjoyed being in front of a camera,” you shrugged, “This seemed like the best bet. I don’t want to produce; I want to be where the action is.”

“You sound very determined,” Ryan raised his glass to you, “I commend your attitude.”

You blushed, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Ryan!” the bride-to-be came flying in towards the two of you and grasped his arm. “Come on! We have to get going if we’re going to get to the last bar on our list. We’ve already been here for way too long!”

“I guess that’s my queue to leave,” Ryan sighed as the ladies all bustled out. You caught sight of Harry and a bridesmaid making out near the door of the bar, and you were reminded that Ryan needed a kiss from a bartender in order to gain points for whatever game they were playing.

You turned to see Ryan paying off the tab before handing you the pen and smiling, “It was nice meeting you, Y/N,” he smiled, “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Of course,” you breathed as your heart sunk and fingers itched to cover your face upon realizing you weren’t going to be kissed. Harry watched after ushering the clingy bridesmaid away as Ryan turned away and your face fell. You took care of their tab, crunching numbers in the machine before sighing and going back to refilling shots and handing out beers.

The night quickly ended after that and you’d been mostly silent the entire time. Harry had let you have your space, seeing you were really far in your head, but as the bar closed and you started cleaning tables, Harry could tell you were distraught.

Grabbing one of the trays Harry had used to carry multiple beers out to whoever was sitting at the table, you gripped it harshly before feeling the sudden urge to slam it down onto the table. You did so, and cried out in anger as you kicked a chair away and threw your towel onto the table as well.

Harry watched your outburst with wide eyes, never seeing you so angry or filled with any sort of emotion before. “Y/N …”

“Not now Harry!” you yelled as hot, angry tears started falling down your cheeks. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot. Obviously we weren’t he only bar they were going to tonight. I’m sure there were way hotter bartenders wherever they were going. Jesus fucking Christ!”

You kicked another chair and Harry just let it happen, seeing you needed this far more than you cared to admit. “And here I was again, just the fucking place holder so he didn’t have to go out onto the dance floor with those thirsty bridesmaids!” you cried. Harry leaned against the bar and watched as you paced angrily, running your hands through your hair.

“Fucking hell!” you yelled, “I’m always the fucking safe option – never the exciting flirtatious option guys are interested in. I’m the girl they’ll know they have use to kill the time because I always fucking want something to happen and I’m so fucking goddamn lonely and desperate that they know they can come to me and I’ll listen. I’ll listen like a fucking psychiatrist because I hope so desperately that they’ll want me by the end of it and they never FUCKING DO!”

You were screaming now, your face red with anger and you were breathing heavily as you looked over to see Harry was making a drink.

“Are you fucking making another drink right now?” you cried, “Does this amuse you so much that you have to settle in and get a drink?”

“Oh no love, this is for you,” Harry slid the drink towards you and you eyed it wearily.

“I don’t dri –”

“Just try it,” Harry sighed, “Consider this your alcohol education.”

You sat down across from Harry and slumped a bit, taking the drink in your hand and sipping it suspiciously. The tangy citrus flavor filled your mouth and you hummed in approval. “This is good; what is it?”

“It’s a screwdriver,” Harry chuckled, “Orange juice and vodka.”

“I like orange juice,” you nodded.

“I figured you might,” Harry merely regarded you as you drank the rest of it and tapped the glass when you were done. “I’ll take another please.”

“That’ll cost ya,” Harry joked, but laughed even harder when you grabbed the jar of bills you’d stashed in the ‘Broken Glass Fund’ jar.

“At this point, you could poison me and I’d be okay with it,” you grumbled.

“I didn’t know you felt this lonely,” Harry said softly as you clutched your third screwdriver in your hands.

“It’s always been this way,” you shrugged, “Just a part of me, I guess. Never been in a relationship.”

“Never?” Harry raised his eyebrows as you polished off your third drink.

“Can you make me something else fruity please?” you asked, handing him back the glass. Under normal circumstances, Harry wouldn’t have given you another drink as you were definitely starting to get tipsy, but considering he figured you might just need to hang loose a bit, he mixed you up a Greyhound instead.

“I hope you like grapefruit juice,” he sighed, handing you back the new drink.

“I like it now,” you nodded.

“So if you’ve never been in a relationship, then does that mean –”

“I’m a virgin?” you asked bluntly, “That’s always the first question asked.”

“I was going to ask if that meant you’d never been kissed,” Harry smirked and brushed some hair from your forehead. “But that was definitely my next question.”

“Donny Telman kissed me in grade four, so I was an early bloomer there,” you sighed, “I’ve never really had a good kiss though, you know? Like I’ve never made out fully with anyone. Still kinda confused what to do with my tongue I guess?” you waggled your tongue around and Harry laughed, looking up at you from where he was leaning with his forearms on the bar and hands keeping his chin up.

“There isn’t really much of a rulebook,” Harry chuckled, “So you’re asking all the right questions those of us more experienced still ask.”

“I’m sure you kiss lots of girls,” you nodded. Your body felt warm, and the outline of Harry’s body was soft. In your eyes, he almost seemed to be radiating light, and so you groaned at the thought of Harry being anymore angelic than you already considered him to be.

“Can I try rum again?” you sighed, handing him back your now empty glass. You watched Harry’s back muscles work as he sifted through bottles and found what he was looking for before mixing your drink.

“Rum and orange,” he said, handing it to you. “Go nuts.”

“I have had sex though,” you nodded. Harry noticed your words were starting to slur and his dream of seeing you drunk ever since he’d met you was slowly starting to come true. You were far funnier than he ever could have imagined.

“Good for you, love,” he nodded.

“Probably not as much as you,” you booped his nose, “God I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Bop my nose like I’m some sort of puppy,” you gagged. “Makes me feel like your younger sister and I hate that.”

“I’ll stop doing it then.”

“No, please don’t,” you shook your head, “I say I hate it, and I’ll pretend to be annoyed by a lot of things you do, but in reality it’s because I just sometimes in my head get like, these thoughts about you, ya know? Like, I’m like ‘oh if this was a romcom then I’d totally be like the it-girl right now and you’d totally be into me.’ But this isn’t a romcom and the fact that I seem to be one of the only people who you touch my nose then that means there’s hope for us to be friends.”

Harry was a bit touched at this, and he realized you were far more observant than he took you for. You noticed the little things, and to him, those were sometimes the most important things in life.

“I think it would be funny if we wrote a scene into the movie of the flower girl getting drunk in your bar and you taking care of her,” you nodded, “I’ve always wanted to be drunk with someone taking care of me.”

“You can totally write that in if you’d like,” Harry nodded.

“Millie wants the role,” you admitted, “But I really don’t want her to because you two like, hooked up and stuff and now we’re working together and hopefully friends so it would be weird.”

“We’re friends, Y/N,” Harry nodded, “You can call me your friend.”

“But we’re so not similar,” you shook your head viciously and almost fell out of your stool. “You’re so much better than me Harry Styles. You’re so attractive and people flock to you and people like you. I could stand front and center of this bar in nothing but my underwear and a bra and guys still wouldn’t notice me.”

Your comment from earlier about the two of you never working out once again stuck in Harry’s mind. “Do you think so little of yourself that someone ‘like me’ would never go for you?”

You were quiet as you stirred the straw in your drink and shrugged, “Well, it’s been many years and I’ve been around many guys and the only guys who have ever expressed interest are the ones who write creepy poems for me or don’t shower regularly and I remind them of their mums.”

Harry chuckled at his as you asked for another drink but he shook his head. “I think you’ve had enough for tonight, love.”

“I think I like drinking now,” you nodded, “I’ll have to come back to this bar sometime.”

“You have to come back considering you work here,” Harry reminded you. “Now, you can’t go back to your flat, right?”

“My roommates are fucking,” you nodded, “I mean, wait.” You furrowed your eyebrows and tapped your lip thoughtfully as Harry grabbed his coat and then yours. “They’re not fucking each other. But like –”

“Yeah Y/N I get it,” Harry mumbled as he helped you put on your coat. “Come on then; you can crash at mine.”

“You have a place you live!” you gasped, “I figured you just slept here!”

Harry chuckled as he helped you off the stool and pulled you in close to help you walk towards the door without stumbling too much. So close to Harry and tucked right under his arm, you turned and pressed your nose against his side. He smelled like old bourbon and a refreshing mint and wood combination that instantly had you dizzy.

“You smell so good,” you mumbled, your face smushed up against his body as he chuckled and hailed a cab. He helped you into the vehicle and you sighed, looking out the window. You were far more confident when under the influence, and so Harry was quite surprised when you nestled your head in his lap and let out a long sigh.

“This is a very romcom situation we’re in,” you said softly with a yawn, “Usually this is the beginning of a ‘he said-she said’ situation. But we’re not in a romcom and you’re really pretty and I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

Harry let his fingers softly run through your hair as you fell asleep in the back of the cab. He carried you up to his flat once you arrived, and as you blinked back awake, you were lying in an unfamiliar bed as Harry walked towards you with water.

“Drink up,” he said, “You’ll thank me in the morning when you have your first hangover.”

“I have class at nine,” you grumbled, a bit more sober than previously as Harry tossed you some boxers and a shirt. “Oh no,” you shook your head, “I can’t wear your clothes.”

“Why not? You’re wearing jeans. That won’t be comfortable,” Harry furrowed his eyebrows and filled your water glass again to get you to drink more.

“If I wear your clothes then I’ll be surrounded by you all night and that’s basically you asking me to fall in love with you,” you said honestly, “I’ve never worn a man’s clothes and I really don’t think I’ll be able to separate these feelings.”

Harry sat down next to you and sighed, feeling a bit sadder than he originally had. He wanted to care for you, and his mum had always raised him to care the right way, but he also didn’t want to put you in a self-torturous situation that you knew you would be in.

So instead, Harry nodded and took his clothes back. “Well, if you get uncomfortable, please feel free to change. And I promise I’ll set you straight in the morning if you come onto me.”

You blushed at this, shrugging off your jacket and tossing it to the side. “I’m guessing you’re going to give me your bed and then you take the couch like a gentleman?”

“That is how my mum told me to go through life,” Harry nodded, “Do you have a problem with that?”

You groaned and pulled yourself off the bed, grabbing at the pillows and smelling each one. “What are you doing?” Harry laughed, standing there with the water pitcher and just letting this all happen.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch,” you nodded, “You have to be an asshole, okay? Or else I will start concocting scenarios in my mind of the two of us together because you’re being chivalrous.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to blush as he thought of the thought of you thinking about the two of them. It warmed his heart a bit to think that you had at least at one point thought about this, but were now actively trying to push it out of your head.

“Still haven’t explained why you’re smelling the pillows,” he mentioned.

“Trying to find one that doesn’t smell like you,” you said honestly, finally finding one that was farther in the back. “This one smells more like IKEA for sure.” Harry followed you as you marched down the stairs and fluffed the pillow, plopping down on the couch and curling up. He placed a blanket over you and you caught his wrist as he left the glass of water on the table in front of him.

“You have to wake me at 8am,” you said, “I have class at nine and I can’t miss it.”

“I’ll make sure you’re reading for school,” Harry nodded, “Now go to sleep. And don’t vomit on my couch.”

You were asleep before Harry even left you, and he smirked at the thought of how easily you’d actually held your liquor until you’re gone for the rum. He was kind of proud of you, in a way, because you could have continued to sulk over the whole Ryan thing, but instead you’d allowed yourself to let go.

He watched you snuggle in a bit farther under the blankets as he cleared some dishes from the kitchen in search of some Tylenol for you to take in the morning. Setting the pills next to the glass of water, Harry hesitated for a moment before pressing his lips to your forehead. Even though you’d told him how easily it was for you to fall for someone and you wanted to separate any potential means of you falling for him, Harry still hoped this forehead kiss gave you some good dreams.

Because you deserved them, he thought, as he made his way up to bed and felt his body dragging from a long day. He set his alarm to get you up in the morning, and smiled at the thought of you having a good night’s sleep with whatever Prince Charming you were hoping for one day taking care of you in your dreams.

-----

Sorry for the delay but I hope this makes up for it! Let me know if you’re interested in this story going further because I have some of the next parts written a bit! Thanks for all the love and support! Happy holidays !!!!!!

Part 3 HERE // MASTERLIST

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kitten1618x · 7 years

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GoT Afterthoughts 7x07 The Dragon and The Wolf (Jonsa Edition) SPOILERS

So here we are -the finale. I’d like to bitch about how badly we’ve been ripped off by D&D, but I don’t want to be repetitive. lol We begin our episode outside the walls of Kings Landing. It looks like the Unsullied have abandoned Casterly Rock for a display of power and muscle, and are quickly joined by the Dothriaki -whooping and hollering in a most obnoxious way (I truly dislike them). Jamie and Bronn watch from atop the ramparts for some lively “cock banter”, ya know, since D&D are epic writers and such. Side note: I love how they slowed down Dany’s theme song here. At least the musical score is never disappointing. We get a nice aerial shot of Euron’s huge fleet, as what’s left of Dany’s sails towards KL. Jon, ever a Northerner, is NOT impressed with KL. Stay true to your roots, Jonny boy. Suspiciously (not really), Dany is absent. Gee … I wonder if she’s planning on a flamboyant dragon-styled entrance? The Hound goes below deck to check if Bones is resting comfortably. The box is quiet -must have been that Dramamine they gave him to counter his seasickness. Nope -he’s awake, and clearly feels their hospitality leaves something to be desired. Side note: I wonder if Jon inquiring how many people live in KL is a foreshadowing of a future disaster there? Remember that there are casks of Dragon fire buried everywhere beneath the city. I’m almost positive that will come into play next season. We jump quickly to Cersei in the Red Keep who’s been informed that Dany isn’t with her entourage. How much you wanna bet that Cersei’s thinking the same exact thing I wrote above? She informs Ser Gregor that if anything goes wrong, he’s to kill the silver haired bitch first, then her brother and then the bastard who calls himself King. Now we’re back with the entourage, and we get a bit of a history lesson about the dragon pit ruins, and Jorah says something I perceived to be very important (as well as synonymous of Dany and her conquering Targ ancestors): Jorah: Dragons don’t understand the difference between what’s theirs and what isn’t. Land, livestock, children. CONQUERORS! We learn how over time, with entrapment, the dragons withered away to nothing, small as dogs. This particular part didn’t serve any purpose, other than to reunite the original brotp3, Pod, Bronn and Tyrion. We see that they all still have a fondness for each other -and perhaps a foreshadowing that Bronn will be switching allegiance soon. The Hound and Brienne also have a surprisingly friendly reunion, as they bond over their adopted daughter, Arya. I’m glad they brought her up, and I’m so very excited to see a Hound/Stark girls reunion next season! So, we’re in the Dragon Pit now, and truthfully -this entire 20 minute scene was utter garbage, and I’m pretty pissed that they wasted nearly the entire finale on this flaming dumpster, tbh. Clegane bowl is coming. Cersei is annoyed with Dany’s theatrical entrance (and truthfully, the extra-ness of it all was kind of lame). I guess it was necessary to put Drogon in the dragon pit? But when he flew away, let’s be honest -his wings would have sent those canopies hurling away and knocked everyone on their asses, too. Euron’s a dick. Tyrion attempts to open the floor for Jon, Cersei is her usual snarky, skeptical and extra self (I fucking love her), and finally Sandor releases Bones, and …… the Dramamine must have kicked in? Time for a jump scare! Bones charges Cersei and is yanked back just in time. The Hound cuts him in half, but he keeps on coming until Jon does his sales pitch demonstration (how sad do you think Kit was that they made him do this terrible scene?) of fire and dragon glass (thanks Davos, for your assistance). Euron peaces out -all but throwing up deuces upon his hasty exit, but not before propositioning Dany. Cersei agrees to the truce -tell me honestly -did you all REALLY believe her? She suddenly became so reasonable, which is schiesty as hell, if you ask me. She throws some shade at Dany, and asks Jon to stay neutral. Cersei specifically evokes the honorable Ned Starks name, insinuating that she can trust the son to be as honorable as daddy dearest. Did this jump out at any of you? Because of course Cersei does know that Ned was honorable -yet, she also knows that he had forsaken that very honor in the end, for his daughters -at the request of Sansa (per Cersei) to save his life (and probably hers) which was all for naught because Joffrey was a cunt, as Sandor would say -but you get the point to this clunky run-on sentence, right? And not only that, but he LIED to everyone, and especially the people he loved and cared about (his wife, best friend, family) to save the life of his nephew -and he went to his grave with that secret. So what am I saying? Honorable Ned wasn’t above lying for the greater good, or to protect the ones he loved. Does that put some things in perspective for you? Back to our story (however shitty it is for the time being) Jon declines. Choosing this moment to back Dany, and again “figuratively” bending the knee to her -this time publicly. Side note: Dany’s face in this moment. She’s so smitten with Jon. Cersei basically tells everyone to fuck off, and exits stage left. Brienne attempts to slap some sense into Jamie, uttering two words that stop him dead in his tracks: FUCK LOYALTY. This isn’t about honor and following whomever you’re loyal to -it’s about humanity. Did she appeal to his better side? Methinks so. Now everyone takes the time to belittle Jon for doing the very thing that they haggled him about for the entire season. But Tyrion the KING of bad ideas this season, has yet another -he’ll go talk to Cersei alone. He magically warps to the Red Keep, somehow making it through the city and the castle without being murdered for the hefty price on his head, but …. that D&D logic, tho. He and Jamie say “goodbye” one idiot to another (hey, you guys said it -not me), and as foreboding music drones in the background, the standoff begins. But, so I guess that Jamie and Tyrion decided to let bygones be bygones? And to one of my favorite scenes of the episode -my God, Lena and Peter SLAYED THIS SCENE! After the accusations fly, Tyrion tells Cersei to have him killed -the Mountain reaches for his sword and begins to unsheath it, but the order is never given. Cersei looks torn. Perhaps she isn’t as heartless as she tries to portray? Perhaps a tiny part of her does have affection for her little brother? Or maybe she just doesn’t want anymore Lannisters to die? I’m not entirely sure of her motivations, but she certainly looked gorgeous in this scene, though. After Tyrion collects himself (and likely wishes for a clean pair of shorts), he downs a goblet of wine and pours his sister a cup. We know now that he does regret killing his father (despite deserving it), and that Tyrion really doesn’t want to see the end of his family. Is he lying? Doubtful. He loved her children as she did (except for Satan incarnate, Joffrey). He realizes that Cersei is once again pregnant, and somehow appeals to her better senses …. And I’m just here SCREAMING at the TV: why do you all believe her??? This is Cersei -the son Tywin always wanted -but with a vagina (oh, the irony)!! We jump back to the Dragon Pit where Jon is back to brooding as he shuffles through some dragon bones. He lets his disappointment in the turn of events known, as Dany decides to join him. She tells him she respects what he did (is that what we’re calling it now? did ya’ll see her face when he announced his allegiance with her? It’s cool Dany -I “respect” Jon snow sometimes when my hubby isn’t around, too 😂) and then begins telling him how the end of the Dragons is what really spelled the end of her house. The dragons made them extraordinary -without them, they are just like everyone else. (BINGO). This leads to Jon complimenting her -she’s not like everyone else and her family hasn’t seen its end because she’s still here. Dany follows up that she can’t have children -in case you missed that last episode Jon, when she said the Dragons are the only children she’ll ever have, and then you nodded your understanding when she point blank asked you if you understood. Remember? Oh, are you just double checking? Okay my son, carry on …. *So this is important: J: Who told you that? D: The witch that murdered my husband. J: Did it occur to you she might not have been a reliable source of information? (Because clearly it’s occurring to Jon). D: You were right from the beginning. If I’d had trusted you everything would be different. J: So what now? D: I can’t forget what I saw north of the wall, and I can’t pretend that Cersei won’t take back half the country the moment I march north. So -let’s do a bit of reading between the lines here, shall we? What we know now: Dany fully trusts Jon, when she didn’t before. When Jon asks her “what now?” It’s pretty clear that he’s unsure whether or not he can trust her to prioritize the NK and his army over Cersei and the Iron Throne. And her answer lets him know that he’s in the right with his suspicions. J: It appears Tyrion’s assessment was correct, we’re fucked. You sure are, Jon. Better think of something quick -because apparently just “bending the knee” may not be sufficient -and you do need those dragons and army. As if by cue, Tyrion returns -Cersei and her entourage in tow and she agrees to help and delivers one of the most epic lines of the evening: “perhaps you’ll remember that I chose to help with no promises or assurances from any of you.” YOU LIE LIKE A RUG CERSEI, BUT SLAY YOU UNAPOLOGETIC BITCH -I LOVE YOU!! Now I want to ask if ANY of you caught the look that passed between Jon and Tyrion here? Admittedly, I didn’t on my first watch -but it’s plain as day. Remember it -I’ll return to it later, because I actually think it may be important. Now we take a ravens POV, flying through the heavy snow towards Winterfell. Sansa sits irritatedly tapping her message from Jon on her desk. She’s not happy about the news she’s received. Seems like Jon finally decided to write home and let her know he bent the knee. You broke up with the North in a text message? Really Jon? Little Finger does what he’s always done -acts like he’s on everyone’s side while sewing his seeds of doubt and dissension. For those of you who were waiting for the crypt scene payoff: here it was … While discussing Jon’s “reasons” for doing this, he drops the bomb that the Dragon Queen is rumored to be very beautiful. Why? My guess is he’s wondering if Sansa has the same subconscious affections for Jon that he displayed in the crypts. S: what does that have to do with anything? LF: Jon is young and unmarried, Daenerys is young and unmarried. S: you think he wants to marry her? (the thought obv never occurred to her, due to her reaction). LF: An alliance makes sense. Together they’d be difficult to defeat. He was named KitN, he can be unnamed. S: Even if I wanted to (she doesn’t) Arya would never go for it. Shut down AGAIN, LF -Sansa isn’t going to turn on Jon. So, he switches gears back to Arya, thinking that’s the key to driving a wedge between her and Jon and setting the crown on Sansa’s head -get Arya out of the way. He continues his little mind game, encouraging Sansa to play along, and by the scenes end, we’re made to believe she’s fallen for it and is on board. Really -unbeknownst to him, he just planted the solution to Jon’s birthright situation in her lap (when it’s revealed). Unite the North and South by marriage -together they’d be difficult to defeat …. hello Jonsa season 8! And we’ve warped back to Dragonstone. They’re planning their strategy to head to Winterfell. Jon suggests that they sail together, and Jorah thinks Dany would be safer flying Drogon. Of course because she’s hot on Jon -she’ll take his suggestion -especially since we ALL KNOW the Northerners will NEVER see her as an ally. But she’s all: I’m going north to save them, not conquer them. 😏 So many nervous glances here amongst all the men … The meetings over, and Theon catches Jon and Davos as they pass through the throne room (anyone else curious about what they may have been talking about?). Okay, and OMG, another important conversation with so much hidden in the narrative! (I may paraphrase a bit here) T: What you did in KL, you could have lied to Cersei about bending the knee to Daenerys. You risked everything to tell an enemy the truth. But …did he? J: We went down there to make peace, and it seems to me we need to be honest with each other, if we’re going to fight together. See above. T: You’ve always known what was right. Even when we were all young and stupid. Every step you take …it was always the right step. J: It’s not. It may seem that way from the outside, but I promise you it’s not true. I’ve done plenty things I regret. T: Not compared to me you haven’t. Clearly, he’s referring to betraying the Starks. J: No. Not compared to you. Clearly he has no intention of betraying his family like Theon did -although I do believe he intends to betray someone. T: I always wanted to do the right thing. Yada yada. It always seemed like their was …an impossible choice I had to make. Stark or Greyjoy. Confirmation here. Jon’s angry. He’s angry that Theon betrayed their father -who although may not have been his true father, he treated him like a son-better than Theon’s own father -sound familiar? J: Our father was more a father to you than your own father ever was. T: He was. J: And you betrayed him, betrayed his memory. T: I did. J: But you never lost it. He’s a part of you, just like he’s a part of me. Jon may as well be having this conversation with himself next season! Well - at least parts of it. T: But the things I’ve done … J: Its not my place to forgive you for all of it. But what I can forgive, I do. You don’t need to choose. You’re a Greyjoy and you’re a Stark. *I love this little nugget, because I feel like it gives credence to my Wars of the Roses meta theory -that Jon will combine both sides of his heritage/houses into one. Although, the deeper meaning behind it, is he’s allowed to be both without betraying the other. And …. he will always be a Stark. The conversation continues with Theon explaining that Yara tried to save him -she needs him now. And Jon gives Theon his blessing to go get his sister: “So why you still talking to me.” This scene with Jon was truly beautiful, with true healing quality for Theon. A little bit of old Theon emerges when he doesn’t stand down to one of Yara’s men and takes a hell of a beating (damn, he really is a Stark -can’t keep my babies down!) and succeeds in rallying the men behind him. Not for him -for Yara! We return to Winterfell where a very forlorn Sansa stands upon the ramparts in her and Jon’s “spot”. Is she thinking of him? I believe so -but that might just be my pesky shipping goggles. Sophie Turner has looked exceptionally beautiful this season -like bewitchingly so. She’s always been lovely -but damn. Shaking off her sadness: my skin has gone from porcelain, to ivory, to steel -she steels herself for what must be done, and orders the guard to have her sister brought to the Great Hall. We flash to the Great Hall. Arya is escorted in, as Sansa and Bran sit like they’re about to judge her. Arya and LF share a “fuck you” stare, and Arya asks Sansa if she “really wants to do this?” Sansa replies that honor demands it, and after Arya’s “get on with it”, Sansa rattles off charges, and then flips the script on LF, leveling the charges on him. Haha! He blinked so hard, I thought he was about to fall over! As Sansa annihilates him with charges, he stumbles with excuses, but all 3 Starklings gangbang his ass, and he’s done for. Using his own lessons and words against him -the student has surpassed the teacher. “I am a slow learner, it’s true -but I learn.” SAVAGE. MY QUEEN IS SAVAGE. And with a nod of Sansa’s head, and despite his resorting to crying and begging, Arya slits his throat before he even realizes what hit him. For all his scheming, what was his legacy …? I would have liked to see him go out with a bit more fight -but maybe that’s the point. BY THE WAY -I WANT FUCKING RECEIPTS!! I TOLD YOU ALL MY GIRLS WERE PLAYING HIM!! To the Starks, who fought to make it back to Winterfell and each other -family is everything. They’re a united front. We jump back to KL for the last time this season. Jamie is going over battle plans with the Lannister soldiers. Cersei dismisses them and asks Jamie what he’s doing- he tells her that he’s planning his expedition north. Cersei resorts to her usual cruelty: “you really are the stupidest Lannister.” She tells him it was all a ruse, and Jamie’s not happy about this. After accusing him of conspiring against her and telling him that Euron didn’t really tuck tail and run, but instead went to pick up the mercenaries she purchased with the help of the Iron Bank, Jamie finally grows a pair! He pledged to ride north and he intends to. Cersei’s last bit of treachery is FINALLY the straw that broke the camels back! Cersei threatens his life -reminiscent of her earlier scene with Tyrion. Jamie calls her bluff, and again she doesn’t act on it. And as our hero leaves for the North, Winter has finally arrived at KL. (Told you better things were in store for my Golden boy … can he really be TPTWP?)!! We head back to Winterfell -Sam and Gilly have arrived and Sam seeks out Bran. Not gonna lie -this part confused me a bit, because I thought Bran was all knowing ….yet, he asks Sam WHY he’s come to Winterfell. Also -it’s Sam who informs him that Jon isn’t a bastard. Also -why has Bran told this to Sam, and not his sisters? Unless he has? And we just haven’t seen it? Like the Starks conspiring against LF? Makes me wonder of the other things that may have happened offscreen this season, too …. Bran does what he does and goes back in time to witness Lyanna and Rhaegar’s marriage -Roberts Rebellion was built on a lie. Jon’s real name is (barf) Aegon Targaryen, and he’s never been a bastard -he’s the TRUE heir to the Iron Throne -all of this over boatbang, sucking all the romance out of the coupling and painting it in an ominous light -just as I suspected. Remember when I told you all that CONTEXT was everything, and that there was a reason we found out about Jon’s parentage prior to boatbang -and the reasoning behind overlapping R/L’s wedding wasn’t to depict this EPIC romance, but to instead imply incestuous overtones and foreshadow the future Targbowl? Yep. That’s about it in a nutshell. But, more about boatbang towards the end -as well as my suspicions … We return back to Winterfell, where our Starkling sisters are perched upon the ramparts. Here they confirm their bond, both understanding the true strength of the other, and that despite each others quirks -they love one another and will take care of each other ….just as their father would have wanted. “When the Snows fall and the White Winds Blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.” Despite their losses, the Starks are a pack, and they will endure. Lastly, we shoot to Eastwatch, where everyone’s favorite ginger is perched atop the lookout post -probably daydreaming of Brienne. A horn blows as the NK’s army has finally reached the wall. Viserion, gorgeous blue eyes shining soars through the air with the NK on his back, and shooting flames to match his eyes -the wall begins to crumble. We see people getting caught up in the destruction -hopefully not Tormund, because I’ll fucking riot, as the wall falls and the dead march forward into Westeros. Winter is here. Okay, so back to boatbang. Aside from the basics I outlined above -let’s break the scene down. Jon stands before Dany’s door. His expression is troubled. He heaves a heavy sigh, then he lifts his hand to knock on the door -yet he hesitates before actually knocking. Why? After Dany bids him entrance, Jon closes the door and we see Tyrion emerge from around the corner. Unless he’s been stalking Jon -he has perfect timing. Why is this? Could it be that Jon was just with Tyrion? Could that look they shared at the Dragon Pit mean something? Could Jon be the means as to which Varys suggested Tyrion find a way to make Dany listen? Tyrion’s expression doesn’t look like jealousy to me -he looks concerned, worried even. Has he conspired against his queen, knowing how smitten she is with Jon, to stay the course and maybe feels guilty because he knows she’s falling for Jon and he’s playing her? Have secret discussions been going on offscreen, like with the Starks, only to be revealed later? You’ve kind of gotta wonder this season … Look, whether or not you subscribe to the undercover lover theory or not, you’ve got to admit that there’s been a lot of oddness surrounding this rushed romance. Two episodes ago, Jon was ready to hightail it out of Dragonstone and never look back (and he didn’t, although Jorah did), and we’re suddenly supposed to believe he’s smitten? I guess If I shipped them, I’d want to believe that -but what about Jon’s odd behavior? The fact that while Dany has literally poured her heart out to him, yet he’s managed to share absolutely NOTHING personal with her is a HUGE damn red flag to me. Not.One.Damn.Thing. Could he be attracted to her? Sure. She’s quite beautiful and he’s not blind, but it seems that D&D have been hiding little clues within the narrative -they’ve also managed to successfully sabotage this relationship before it even got off the ground -with the parent reveal last season. The way I see it, is we’ve got a strong case here, and a 50/50 chance that this is all for show and Jon’s actually LISTENED to Sansa -that he’s being smarter than father and Robb, that he’s NOT a Northern fool -and he REALLY does know how to play the game. All this talk of Ned, and honor? OR, he is truly a damn fool and Jon Snow really does know nothing …. I just can’t stand by this. If I’m wrong, fine -but everything screams at me that that Jon knows Cersei was lying, or just doesn’t trust she’ll follow through. Jon knows that once Dany figures that out, she’ll probably want to go back south with her dragons and armies -pledging himself to her clearly didn’t work (as witnessed by her words at the Dragon Pit) -but clearly she’s smitten with him …he’s seen her heart eyes. What’s a sure-fire way to get her to commit to the war and assisting the North in fighting? Why, committing to her man, of course. So, back to analyzing the sex scene. There was no lead up -no first kiss, no tender caresses -just a closed door and then BAM two naked (damn Kit, daaayum!) people. Dany seems to have taken the aggressive stance on top. Jon flips her into missionary, and before he thrusts, STOPS -again, like at the door, he’s hesitating as he looks down at Dany, regretful -like he’s not sure he should do this -NOT because he doesn’t want her (he IS a man, after all), but because he’s feeling guilty about what he’s about to do (to her), as she stares up at him all dreamy-eyed and awestruck, and he doesn’t feel the same way. Make no mistake that I do believe he likes her as a person, but love is not reciprocated here. He heaves yet another heavy sigh, with this same haunted expression, and then pants as he steels himself to go on -seemingly forcing himself to continue, squeezing his eyes shut as he kisses her. All I heard in my head was Arya saying “get on with it”. This was not romantic epic love. Jon didn’t look at Dany like she hung the moon. We’ve all seen the way he’s looked at Sansa -

Vs. a very intimate moment with the woman he “supposedly” has fallen for?

Nope. I may be wrong about undercover lover, but I think that there was so much more than meets the eye here. Buckle up babies -we survived season 7 and boatbang. Season 8 is ours and Jonsa is STILL endgame. It is known. 😘

#got afterthoughts #got recap #got speculation #jonsa #jon x sansa

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notwithout-mymuse · 7 years

Text

Fic: Misfits and Wanderers 5/8

Fic in which Robert and Aaron accidentally become secondary dads to almost every kid in the village. No mentions of the current SL because positivity is fun.

Split into 8 smaller one-shots because my thoughts ran away with me. All parts with be tagged fic: misfits verse.

With thanks as always to @mrshiftysugden, @portinastorm, and @stulot

Part 1 – Noah

Part 2 – Gabby

Part 3 - April & Leo

Part 4 - Kyle

Part 5 - Sarah & Jack

Aaron is in the pub, just trying to have a quiet post-work pint before he heads home to have tea with Robert and Liv, when the shouting starts. Drama in a small village like Emmerdale is hard to ignore, especially when it involves your own family.

He doesn’t know what caused the fight, all he knows is that Debbie and Ross are screaming at each other from either side of the bar. Debbie seems to be accusing her boyfriend of cosying up to someone he shouldn’t, but frankly Aaron doesn’t really care. What does trouble him, however, is the sight of Sarah and Jack sat in one of the nearby booths, obviously waiting for it to be over. Sarah looks a combination of bored and mortified, slumped down low in her seat like she wants the ground to swallow her up. Jack on the other hand is glassy eyed and looks on the verge of tears, his lower lip trembling.

Aaron downs the rest of his pint and wanders over towards the children, before sitting down opposite them.

“Hey, you guys ok?” he asks, reaching across the table to brush a loose bit of hair out of Jack’s eyes.

“They’ve been like this for ages.” Sarah responds, putting her arm around her little brother. “It’s embarrassing, everyone keeps staring.”

“Why don’t you both come back to mine for a bit eh? Let ya mum and Ross sort their problems out on their own.”

“Can we? You don’t m-“

Sarah’s reply is drowned out by the smash of a glass, Ross having apparently knocked Debbie’s wine glass flying as he gesticulated angrily at the woman opposite.

“Ok, time to go I think!” Aaron says, lifting Jack up into his arms, and nodding in the direction of the door for Sarah to follow. He pauses by the door to speak to Faith, tells her that he’s taking the kids for as long as it takes for Debbie and Ross to get their act together. She nods, her face serious for once, and pats him on the back as he leaves. Faith might encourage her own share of trouble, but when it came to Sarah and Jack at least, Aaron knew she had their best interests at heart.

There is a part of Aaron that worries slightly about springing Sarah and Jack’s presence on Robert like this. It’s not that Robert doesn’t adore his niece and nephew, he absolutely does. Aaron knows because he’s seen the glow of pride on his husband’s face when Sarah bounds up to them in the street to tell them how well her latest round of treatment has gone, and when Jack drew a stick-figure portrait of them one afternoon during a barbeque at Diane’s, it was Robert who immediately stuck it on their fridge in pride of place.

It’s just complicated is all. Aaron knows he will probably never completely understand the issues that made the Sugden family so complex. But he does know that despite it all, the awkwardness with Debbie, the animosity with Andy, and the difficult reminders that come with the children’s very names, Robert would do anything to help them if they needed him.

He’s proven right when they step through the stained glass door, Robert needing only a glance from Aaron to start pulling out more chairs for the kitchen table. It’s Thursday, so April and Leo are already seated either side of Liv, colouring on scrap paper as the older girl works on her latest art project, the three of them sharing Liv’s fancy new colouring pencils.

They’ve taken to keeping a stash of kid-friendly meals on the bottom shelf of the freezer, so Aaron pulls out some chicken nuggets and chips. Once the food is cooking, Aaron leans against the sink and watches as Robert supervises the kids. They have more people than kitchen chairs, so Robert has Jack on his lap, and the little boy keeps lifting his piece of paper up every few minutes to show his uncle.

“That’s amazing Jack… April make sure you share with Sarah please… oh no did it break? Liv do you have another red pencil…”

After they’ve eaten Liv pulls out a battered old edition of monopoly, and they all gather in the living room, kneeling around the low table to play. It warms Aaron’s heart as he watches Robert help Sarah and Jack, who have never played the game before, to understand the rules. The situation allows him to be laid back and have fun with them in a way that is new and sweet as they play as a team. The game is surprisingly good-natured for monopoly, so Aaron decides not to ruin it by drawing attention to the fact that Robert, as the banker, starts slipping Sarah extra notes when she gets close to going bankrupt.

It’s late when Debbie eventually calls, and she sounds tired and sad as she thanks Aaron, telling him that Ross has gone back to his mum’s for a while. April and Leo are long gone by this point, and Jack has fallen asleep on the sofa with his head in Robert’s lap, so Aaron convinces her it’s better to let them stay the night.

Robert wakes them briefly so that they can brush their teeth with a couple of the brand-new toothbrushes they’ve started stockpiling in the bathroom. Liv lends Sarah one of her old onesies to sleep in that the younger girl has to roll back the arms and legs of, and Aaron retrieves a pair of pyjamas that Kyle had left behind for Jack. They’re asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows, peaceful wrapped in overly-big sleeping bags.

The next day, Aaron and Robert arrive home from work to find two drawings shoved through their letter box, featuring little doodles of monopoly pieces and chicken nuggets. Both go straight up on the fridge, right next to the stick figure masterpiece.

#i'm not 100% happy with this but i'm done stressing over it #robron #robron fic #roblivion #sarah sugden jr #jack sugden jr #fic: misfits verse #beth's writing

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philanddanxreader · 7 years

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Dorms.

Hello, love bugs!

Dan x reader.

Warnings ⚠️, smutish.

Meeting Dan at university and talking to him about leaving university to become a full-time YouTuber. Side note what do you guys call a Micky of liquor? I’m Canadian and I grew up only knowing to call it that.

Tonight was going to be a much-needed break. You and this boy named Dan had been hanging out a lot lately. You had met him from being just down the hall from his dorm. It seemed like the two of you were always bumping into each other every day while going to class. This was the start of a friendship that was blossoming into something more. You had a feeling that tonight wasn’t just going to be a quiet night. But all of this was beyond the point. What was important right now was that It was your turn to supply the booze for your r&r night. You had a bottle of wine and a Micky ( for my non-Canadians it’s the size of a flask.)of vodka to help unwind. You reach Dan’s door knocking to let him know you were there with libations. You can hear him get up and stumble over to the door. You feel a small smile creep to your face. He was so dorky and cute.

“Hey!” Dan’s says leaning against the door frame trying to look cool.

“Hey, you.” You say eyeing him up. “I brought gifts!” holding out the wine in one hand and vodka in the other. Dan smile turned even larger.

“Well welcome to my humble abode,”Dan instantly took the wine from your hand then grabbing said hand to bring you into his dorm. It was small but cosy. After these last few months of hanging out with him, the dorm started to feel like home. The two of you had study dates all of the time. To be honest the studying was sometimes put on the back burner for other things. You and Dan had suddenly started to become friends with some benefits. It started by accident with a little too much alcohol. A friendly kiss goodbye here and a cuddle there didn’t seem like much. You happen to both be just physical people. It didn’t seem to be just friendly anymore, however. The chemistry now started to spark on its own. It probably came so easily to the two of you from having similar childhoods and teenage years. It felt like the two of you were long lost friends who lived the same lives apart. The biggest thing you bonded over was your past relationships. The both of you had ended long term relationships before coming to uni. This created a bond of understanding where the other person was coming from. You enjoyed staying up late cuddling in his bed just talking for hours after a party. It was nice to make such a good friend at university who shared so many of the same interests and values.

“I didn’t bring glasses but I supplied the liquor.” Smiling you take back your hand before jumping onto his bed. “Pour me a glass of wine butler.” You had been in a particularly sassy mood so you made sure to add a hand wave and a smirk. Dan gave you a dirty look but continued to find his two finest mugs for your drinks. After he filled the glasses he sat beside you on the small twin bed handing you the stress relieving cup. You give him a quick thank you before taking a sip of the sweet nectar. Damn Daniel getting you into enjoying wine instead of straight liquor. He is right though that it’s a lot classier to drink wine or rather get wine drunk, and not blasted from only vodka.

“Why does it feel like I haven’t seen you in a couple days?” You missed him more than you would like to admit. You missed everything about him. Especially physical contact so you decided to link your arm with his to pull him closer to you.

“I’ve just been busy I guess,” Dan says taking a sip from his mug. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it. The question is whether or not you were going to push the topic.

“Oh ok.” You say. You didn’t want to pick a battle with him. Hopefully, after some liquid courage in his system, he would say what’s been bothering him.Attempting to change the subject you decided to ask him about something that had been bugging you a bit.

“I actually came yesterday to see if you wanted to study, but you didn’t answer. Figured you must have been having som private time.” You raise your eyebrows before laughing a little Dan gave a half-hearted laugh to your joke.

“Oh ya, I was hanging at Phil’s most of the day yesterday, ” You hadn't even noticed but Dan was playing with your fingers on your hand that is attached to the arm that is linked in his. He was definitely not being himself. Dan is definitely not one for being vague. You set down your mug then turn to Dan to look into his eyes.

“Please tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help fix it when you don’t tell me.” You couldn't help the concern that was crossing your expression. Before you can even wait for an answer Dan’s lips were crashing into yours. Most of the time Dan was fairly gentle when you kissed. This kiss, however, was the complete opposite. You could feel the passion and angst in this kiss. You could even have a faint taste of the wine you and Dan were drinking moments ago. Just as fast as the kiss started it ended. Dan pulled away taking a deep breath before turning away to put his drink on the nightstand before returning to your lips. This time the kiss feels more familiar. You crawl into Dan’s lap to get closer to him, slipping your hands behind his neck to play with the back of his hair. Dan's hands, however, were not so innocent. His were roaming your body until they hit the hem of your shirt before he pulled it over your head in one swift motion. You and Dan had gotten close to each other but never this fast. Before you could think too much more into his actions his lips were on your neck making love marks to claim you as his. His hands had now found what they were searching for as he played with your breast in his right hand while his left was attempting to undo your bra.

“Dan, what’s gotten into you.” You say breathlessly. As you start to feel his pants getting somehow even tighter under you.

“I just need to forget right now. You're like a drug of choice to me.” He says re-capturing your lips to his again as he muddles a swear or two about how your bra won’t cooperate.

“Dan I can’t believe I’m saying this but we need to pause for a second.” You had to hold his face between your two hands just to keep him focused. “Tell me what’s going on. Don’t get me wrong I’m totally enjoying this. I can’t let this be a way to get your mind of something. What’s wrong?” Dan’s eyes swell up with little tears at the corners. You wipe away the little tears with your thumb while kissing his forehead. This took a complete turn.

Dan releases a shaky breath before starting. “As you know my YouTube is starting to take off. I’m really considering saying fuck it to all of this Uni stuff and try to go full time with it.” This was a lot to process in a short amount of time. He had obviously been thinking about this for a while. You knew he loved his YouTube, you had to admit that his stuff was pretty good. He was always using his time to edit videos rather than doing homework. As you process the new information Dan searches your face practically begging for you to say something. “You think it’s stupid, Dan couldn't hide the frown that found its way to his slightly swollen lips.

“I never said that!” Feeling terrible you start rubbing little circles on his cheeks with your thumbs. “I just don’t know what to exactly say right now. I know you haven’t been that happy at Uni. I also know that you have been putting off homework to edit and shoot videos.” You say looking at him with a small smile on your face. A terrible thought comes to mind, unfortunately, you feel the question leave your lips before you can stop yourself. “What if you fail?” Your voice is small as you can't face Dan so you decided to look down. You didn’t want to be the one to crush his dreams. You knew that Phil was a big influence in Dan’s life when it came to YouTube. Phil was doing ok for himself on his YouTube money. He wasn’t by any means rich. He was, however, able to live on his own in an apartment.

“What if is the thing that scares me.” He says pushing a piece of hair out of your face. Was he comforting you when he was the one talking about dropping out of university? “I feel like I need to do this. Like it’s meant to be.” Dan tilted your chin to look up at him so he could continue searching your face for an answer.

“I think you already know your answer, Dan.” You say with a small smile. “Give it a go. If it doesn’t work out just come back to university to try again. I’ve known you haven’t been happy for a while. I just want you to be happy and do something you love.“Maybe you had been lying to yourself about the just friends with benefits thing. Even considering that Dan wouldn’t be around next year broke your heart. "Listen I think we should just call it a night and maybe watch a movie and cuddle.” You say snuggling your face into his neck.

“I agree,” Dan says rubbing your back with his strong hands. Later that night you enjoyed a terrible movie with a great friend, cuddling and talking This was definitely not how either of you thought this was how the night was going to end. You both had a lot to think about but that was for another time. Tonight was about relaxation.

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#danisnotonfire #dan x reader #dan howell #dan howell imagine #dan howell smut

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michaelfallcon · 4 years

Text

I’m Just Digging Out From My Email

“Press back to return to the video player. Press back to return to the video player. Press back to return to the video player…”

I woke up with a start, neck crooked, with a cold sheen of sweat on my brow. The headphones were still somehow in my ears, but the movie, another vainglorious biopic, had long since ended. Lights were on in the cabin; the drink cart jostled my elbow.

How did I sleep? There was the worst fucking turbulence for a couple of minutes, and then I was just…went out for an hour and a half at least, maybe longer, in a twilight, twinkly state of half-rest.

I’d slept through my allotted in-flight work time, which was extremely unusual. Totally unlike me, honestly, but this was a long, long travel day, a set of two international flights over unfamiliar destinations, split up by a three hour layover. And that meant I could make it up in the International Lounge.

Flights like this—work flights—afford few if any luxuries. Once, exactly once, I was upgraded to Delta One, for reasons I don’t totally understand. I know other people in this business who fly business class every time: the international CEOs, the Executive Directors Emeritus, the consultants who demand it in their dignity riders, and the sort of folks for whom money doesn’t matter, whose careers in coffee are really more like hobbies.

The rest of us sit in coach.

But the International Lounge, well. On flights like these, access is complimentary, which means between flights I can put my feet up, grab a handful of snack mix, maybe a soda water with lime, and relax for once in my life. I hate traveling for work, and affliction I can’t seem to shrug off or numb myself out to it no matter how much I fly. It’s something really hard to explain to people who never travel for work, and look at travel as being intrinsically connected with holidays and fun. Traveling for work is neither. But the lounge, of all things… I find myself looking forward to it.

In what felt like a fast-forward batch of seconds we landed an de-planed. My feet were numb. My hands, too, numb all through my extremities, first like my fingers and toes had been rounded into clubs, and the there were thousand fire ants inside my skin. I couldn’t shake it off. I started doing a little dance, right there in the aisle, the people around me politely looking away into their cell phones. It faded a bit but not completely as I walked out into the terminal.

“May I see your ticket please?” She stood tall, blonde, in a perfectly manicured blue and grey uniform with a tiny silver nametag. It read Leentje.

I handed my ticket to Leentje, awaiting her next direction. It came efficiently. “Oh! Welcome Mr. Mike-El-Man, you are welcome to International Courtesy lounge at Gate 52. It is this way.” She pointed down a vast concourse of numbered gates.

“Thank you, Leentje.” I’m pretty sure I pronounced it right.

I walked and walked, in what felt like another batch of fast-forward moments, still just slightly numb, shaking off the combination of a flight and a nap, running through my task queue in my head. I owed a bunch of email replies; I’d assigned myself a couple of stories to edit; I needed to dig out from a half-dozen different things.

At the lounge they checked my ticket—their nametags read Marieke and Jopie—looked at their computer, checked my ticket again, looked at another computer, and then finally admitted me. I glanced at the ticket before tucking it back into my passport, and for just a second it looked jumbled, like the words and letters were all mixed up. Have you ever broken a digital display screen? It looked like that, but on paper, and for just an instant.

The lounge was massive, an interconnected series of rooms dotted by service areas with row upon row of breads, cold salads, Segafreddo superautomatic coffee makers, self-service Diageo booze, and entry level charcuterie. I wasn’t hungry, but my feet still hurt, and I needed somewhere to set down my shit, plug in to a power source, and start finishing all my work.

There was every possible seating configuration: low tables, private desk nooks, huge high-backed privacy swivel chairs, bar stools near the food, and a set of long lounger daybeds with a raised portion, like what you lay down on in a cartoon shrink’s office. I chose that one, finding a lounger with nobody else on either side. A small mercy that lasted just a moment, barely enough time to put on my headphones and plug in my laptop.

He was maybe 50, or 55, and had that rumpled suit coat with shiny elbows thing that people get when they live their lives in the same set of suit coats. He sat down on the lounge directly next to me and made hard eye contact.

I looked up from the computer.

“Hey! How ya doing? Crazy running into you here!”

“Sorry, I don’t really like to smalltalk when I travel,” I heard myself saying in reply, which is what I always say in these situations. Yes, I know it’s rude, but it’s rudeness as a sort of self-defense, which I consider at worst a menial sin. “I have travel anxiety,” I said; I like to add this bit in to sort of buttress the self-defense posture. It’s not my fault I don’t want to talk to you, it’s my medical condition, you understand.

He didn’t understand.

“Whoa, sorry, hey—you’re the guy from Sprudge, right?”

I was.

“I’m sorry, hey! Good to see you!”

I always say this—good to see you—because I’m shit at remembering if I’ve met someone before, and so good to see you functions as kind of a catch-all salutation without causing offense. Of course I’ve seen you before, and I remember, and so it’s good to see you—but if we have never met once on this earth in life or death, well, it’s still really good to see you now, in this moment we’re sharing.

“Good to see you, too! I’m really glad to catch you here, you know. I sent you that email last week but maybe we can just talk about it now? I’m gonna run to the bar and grab a hot toddy, you want anything?”

I did not want anything. I wanted to be left alone. What I wanted most of all was for him to get up and walk away so that I could furiously check my inbox, and cross check its contents with this interaction so as to best figure out who this person was, what they wanted to talk about, and how to manage the rest of this interaction as efficiently and inoffensively as possible.

“No I’m good, let’s talk when you come back! I’m just digging out from my email.”

The man walked away in his rumpled suit coat, leaving his bag behind in the lounger next to mine. I had to know this dude, but I couldn’t for the life of me… couldn’t remember. So I opened the laptop.

100 new messages

My heart started pounding very quickly. My cortisol levels spiked. I had just looked through this shit before the 10 hour flight and there was what, maybe a dozen emails that needed replying? I had to scroll back to a second page of the inbox to get to the last tronche of read messages. I started to feel the fire ants again running up and down my legs…

Maybe I need some tea or something, or a glass of whatever shitty wine they’re pouring. It’s unhealthy to go straight from a flight to more work, after all. A big glass of spa water—that’s the best thing they serve here, you know, in these lounges, is the tower of water with cup up fruit inside. I stood up from the lounger, surveyed the room, and in that very instant felt the creepy-crawly sensation of a hundred eyes upon me.

I knew everyone in the room. And, I suspected, they were waiting on me for an email.

They were all there. Rob Riggle, Director of Coffee at Pik-Kwik Coffee in Nashua. Helga Ingiborg Gunnarsdottir, the international green coffee buyer and coffee competition judge. Ezekiel Christian, owner/founder/marketing manager at Hallowed Coffee Roasters of Grand Rapids. Jon Luis Fitzcarraldo, a third generation Salvadoran land owner and general manager of a network of washing stations. Dizzy Morris, editor of the industry-focused trade publication Bean Teen Magazine. Hector Hernandez of Finca Hernandez in Chiapas, whose Finca Hernandez Yellow Bourbon (roasted by Goatyard Coffee) just received an unheard of 96 rating on Coffee Scores. Tina Sonsgard and Ricky Kim, who owned Construction Yard Coffee Roasters in the Bay Area. Constance Marino, the national barista champ and green coffee buyer. Hercules Siffaretti, the current international president of the World Coffee Association. Julio Trocas, the land management advisor and UC Davis trained agro-chemical salesman.

There was Lev Piav, the Ukrainian-cum-Australian international coffee consultant. Next to him sipping an Amstel was Matty Morely, son of Mickey Morely, who since the 80s had run Morely Roast Academy, a ten day $12,000 independent coffee shop owner certification. Hiroko Mayamara, who had personally judged more coffee competitions than any living person, and lived in a state of perpetual travel. Tim Wright, the Dean of Coffee Studies at Texas A&G. Dane Copeland, the hard-living Gen X bad boy founder of Little Beirut Coffee Roasters. Giacomo Olio and his team of staff representing La San Luigi Produzione, makers of the world’s most expensive espresso machines.

It went on. The entire coffee industry, it seemed, was sitting in this lounge, as though it were one of those invite-only executive after parties that pop up around the international trade shows.

I sat back down. I rubbed my eyes. My hands were completely numb, and fumbling, stumbling, I opened my laptop.

1,000 new messages

The words and addresses became like a floating jumble of crushed LED display. The whole lounge started to float. The man—I still didn’t know his name—came back over and sat down next to me, holding two large glasses of liquid.

“I went ahead and got ya a spa water, looks like you need it. You look tired! Ahawhawhaw…”

“Oh, yeah, you know, long flight—so do you!”

I hate it when someone says that—”you look tired!”—as a way of making conversation. I don’t look tired, you look tired. Of course I’m tired, I just flew 10 hours, and I’m starting to get the sinking suspicion that in fact I am dead, and this is hell, or at least purgatory.

“Listen—that thing I wanted to talk to you about. I just think it’s crazy that nobody is reporting on it yet!”

“Oh definitely, me too, me too. Listen—these days for news tips your best bet is to email my colleagues directly…”

“Of course,” said the man—I still didn’t know his name—”but since I’ve got you here right now I just figured…” but his dialogue was broken by a second man, looming before us, his enormous mustache gleaming in the early morning airport lounge light.

“Jon Luis Fitzcarraldo, what are the odds!”

What are the odds indeed. I stood with my spa water, smiled at both men, and began walking back through the lounge. There was Lettie Dinklage, PR emissary for Toraji Springs Syrup Company. I had to write her back. There was Duke Iannucci, who I’d known for a decade, whose nominal job was fixing espresso machines for Metallico Espresso but who functioned as a sort of all-around brand emissary for the company. He’d emailed me two weeks ago asking for travel recommendations and I just… well, I still needed to dig out. I hadn’t written back. I kept walking, my eyes focused, my numb hands slipping on the water glass, back to the front of the lounge.

Marieke and Jopie were still there, standing in their crisply pressed blue suits. I approached with my ticket and passport in hand.

“Listen… your colleague Leentje sent me here… am I pronouncing that right?

“Leentje, yes.”

“Anyway, is there a way I can get on an earlier flight today? There’s something weird going on here and I need to… know my options.”

“Yes of course,” said Jopie, in no-nonsense lilting English. “Let me check your layover.”

“I think it was just supposed to be like, three hours. I have it in my email…” Reflexively I looked down at my phone, opening the Gmail app. My lock screen was now a digital spiral, like a black hole or a vortex or the gaping mouth of hell IDK…

10,000 new messages

“Were you on the 8am from Portland?” asked Marijke.

“I… was but something is… very wrong…”

“The computer here says there was a delay in your connection,” I heard Jopie say. “You will be delayed on your next flight. I suggest you enjoy the lounge, and we will call your name when there is an update.”

I paused for just a beat. My head felt numb now, like my extremities had from the moment I woke up on the flight. The lounge buzzed and hummed behind me, a service cart of fresh pastries clattering through the room.

“Give it to me straight, Jopie. Am I dead? Did my plain crash? Is this hell?”

She paused for a moment. Jopie and Marijke looked at each other, spoke briefly in Dutch, and turned back to me with a smile.

“Our records show you will be here for some time. The WiFi password is ‘relax’ spelled in English. That’s R-E-L-A-X.”

“I know how to fucking spell relax!”

“Alright sir. Perhaps you want to chat with the other guests in the lounge, and enjoy a complimentary drink? Or use this time to catch up on some emails?”

I thanked them, Jopie and Marijke, and apologized for raising my voice. How terribly American and embarrassing of me, to act like that. Totally unlike me, really. I try to be the most polite American of all time when I travel. It’s just, this had been such a long travel day, and it was only getting longer.

It’ll be fine. I’ll just go sit back down in the Lounge. You know, I do have some stuff to dig out from. I did have some emails to send.

Jordan Michelman (@suitcasewine) is a co-founder and editor at Sprudge Media Network. Read more Jordan Michelman on Sprudge.

The post I’m Just Digging Out From My Email appeared first on Sprudge.

I’m Just Digging Out From My Email published first on https://medium.com/@LinLinCoffee

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shebreathesslowly · 4 years

Text

I’m Just Digging Out From My Email

“Press back to return to the video player. Press back to return to the video player. Press back to return to the video player…”

The rest of us sit in coach.

“May I see your ticket please?” She stood tall, blonde, in a perfectly manicured blue and grey uniform with a tiny silver nametag. It read Leentje.

“Thank you, Leentje.” I’m pretty sure I pronounced it right.

I looked up from the computer.

“Hey! How ya doing? Crazy running into you here!”

He didn’t understand.

“Whoa, sorry, hey—you’re the guy from Sprudge, right?”

I was.

“I’m sorry, hey! Good to see you!”

“No I’m good, let’s talk when you come back! I’m just digging out from my email.”

100 new messages

I knew everyone in the room. And, I suspected, they were waiting on me for an email.

It went on. The entire coffee industry, it seemed, was sitting in this lounge, as though it were one of those invite-only executive after parties that pop up around the international trade shows.

I sat back down. I rubbed my eyes. My hands were completely numb, and fumbling, stumbling, I opened my laptop.

1,000 new messages

“I went ahead and got ya a spa water, looks like you need it. You look tired! Ahawhawhaw…”

“Oh, yeah, you know, long flight—so do you!”

“Listen—that thing I wanted to talk to you about. I just think it’s crazy that nobody is reporting on it yet!”

“Oh definitely, me too, me too. Listen—these days for news tips your best bet is to email my colleagues directly…”

“Jon Luis Fitzcarraldo, what are the odds!”

Marieke and Jopie were still there, standing in their crisply pressed blue suits. I approached with my ticket and passport in hand.

“Listen… your colleague Leentje sent me here… am I pronouncing that right?

“Leentje, yes.”

“Anyway, is there a way I can get on an earlier flight today? There’s something weird going on here and I need to… know my options.”

“Yes of course,” said Jopie, in no-nonsense lilting English. “Let me check your layover.”

10,000 new messages

“Were you on the 8am from Portland?” asked Marijke.

“I… was but something is… very wrong…”

“Give it to me straight, Jopie. Am I dead? Did my plain crash? Is this hell?”

She paused for a moment. Jopie and Marijke looked at each other, spoke briefly in Dutch, and turned back to me with a smile.

“Our records show you will be here for some time. The WiFi password is ‘relax’ spelled in English. That’s R-E-L-A-X.”

“I know how to fucking spell relax!”

“Alright sir. Perhaps you want to chat with the other guests in the lounge, and enjoy a complimentary drink? Or use this time to catch up on some emails?”

It’ll be fine. I’ll just go sit back down in the Lounge. You know, I do have some stuff to dig out from. I did have some emails to send.

Jordan Michelman (@suitcasewine) is a co-founder and editor at Sprudge Media Network. Read more Jordan Michelman on Sprudge.

The post I’m Just Digging Out From My Email appeared first on Sprudge.

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