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cher-rei · 8 months ago

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afterglow- pt 6 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, workplace romance, fluff

[wc: 4.6K] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12]

notes: this chapter is a bit longer but it was so funny to write. and of course, it was sitting in my drafts for like 50 years... enjoy!

if someone were to ask you to pick between your mother and your father you wouldn't be able to answer the question, much like most people in the world. they both offered qualities you needed respectively and you were grateful to have them both in your life. kind of.

seeing as you spent most of your life in london, despite being born in liverpool you grew up with your mother and spent a solid 22 years in her presence with nowhere to go. you loved it in london, it was your home and you couldn't let it go. but what it lacked was your father— your best friend.

you were living with him right now because of the whole "alex has chicken pox" situation but you were welcomed home to a facetime from your nephew so that was fun. it was easier with your father, you didn't have to walk on eggshells around him, you could talk about anything and laugh about everything together and that's what you loved about him— his neverending support.

it started with taking you to football practice without your mother knowing, her thinking that he was accompanying you to weekly ballet. when instead, he'd have your kit in the car ready at all times, and supporting you from the sidelines all the way until high school.

and then when your mum was against your university major in marketing instead of law as you had "agreed" upon, your father took the drive from liverpool to london so that he could have a chat with her. and to your surprise she gave up and let you do as you pleased with much reluctance.

so when they got the divorce when you were 16 and he moved back to liverpool, the decision was seamless but you still stayed with your mother seeing as maya already had a job position on that side. after all, you couldn't leave your mother alone. the woman gave birth to you for crying out loud.

all that just for you to move to liverpool eventually because of a really bad break-up. which brought you to your current point— the one where your father wanted to wring every single man's neck no matter how they looked at you.

you felt like a teenager sneaking out like this but you had no other choice. you were going on a drive to lord knows where with a freaken football player, "the most unloyal men on this planet", as your father liked to say.

but of course, he had to catch you in the act, a look of confusion plastered on his face as he stood in the living room, getting ready for bed. "why are you walking around like you did something wrong?" he gasped at your guilty expression, "are you leaving me already? you're just like your mother."

your anxiety vanished in an instant at his joke, an attempt to get the truth out of you. "it's too late to be making jokes like that."

he crossed his arms over his chest. "and it's too late for you to be walking around the house like you're in the 'quiet place'. seriously jamie, why are you tiptoeing?"

you raised your hands in defence, "I thought you were sleeping. my bad for being considerate."

he let out an unconvinced hum and eyed you up and down. he took in the fact that you were in a pair of sweats and a navy blue zip-up hoodie. "you're not a teenager anymore." he shook his head and let out an amused chuckle.

you watched as he made his way to the kitchen and you couldn't help but follow behind him, "what's that supposed to mean?"

he didn't answer your question for a moment and continued to rummage through the fridge for something, happily taking out a box of doughnuts you two had bought earlier. "it means that you can leave the house when you want to. just tell me first."

it was times like this that you forgot you were an adult. to be fair you never really considered yourself to be one, or to act like one either. "oh." there was a moment of silence that passed but it was interrupted by your phone going off.

the way that you darted to check the message said enough to your father, and he let out another amused chuckle. "go on now. don't keep the boy waiting."

your eyes widened in shock, your mouth dry in disbelief but he waved you off. "leave before I go outside to meet him. or should I just--"

"--stay here! I'll be home soon!"

"so do you always drag girls out of bed to keep you company in your car?"

trent rolled his eyes at your question from the driver's seat but kept his attention on the empty road, only the city lights illumating the dark night. "first of all: I didn't drag you out of bed, you could have said no. and second: no I don't usually do this."

you looked at him with your eyes narrowed, not sure what possessed him to call you at 10 in the evening for a drive. "oh so I get special privileges now? care to explain why?"

"I just wanted to go for a drive that's all," he answered honestly with a shrug of his shoulders but that still wasn't quite the answer you were looking for.

you fought back your amused smile. "you have friends for that trent, I'm sure."

the car stopped at a red light which allowed him to look over at you sitting comfortably in the passenger seat of his car. it wasn't the first time after all— there were many trips to the academy, sometimes having to shoot content with him and even that one morning when he picked you up at your sister's apartment for work.

you'd never forget that day and the innocent look on his face when he called you to say that he was outside just as you were grabbing your car keys. it was strange but you didn't mind it.

he let out a sigh and continued to drive after the light had turned green. "all my friends prefer to spend their evenings with their girlfriends and wives so yeah no thanks. and besides--" he shot you an appointed look, "--are we not friends?"

your mouth dried up. that was a little more than you wanted to get out of him, not sure how to respond. colleagues? definitely. banter buddies? sure. but friends?? you were sure that there was some sort of boundary for that and you were never sure if you two had managed to get there yet.

"you could have asked skylar."

oh shit.

you bit your tongue in immediate regret. it was a genuine accident at how quickly it left from your lips and telling by the flicker in trrent's expression, you had hit a nerve. you were just about to apologise when he interjected.

"skylar," he emphasized her name, his lips curved into a smile as he spoke to you, "wouldn't be caught dead eating takeout in a mcdonald's parking lot at 10 in the evening with me though."

you didn't know what to think of his answer, but instead of overthinking it, you decided to make the most of the moment at least. there was no point in making this awkward and it's not like you didn't enjoy his company. trent was easy to be around. most of the time.

so that's how you found yourself parked at the far end of an empty mcdonald's parking lot with hardly any street lights in sight. you unbuckled your seat belt and reclined the seat further back for some more leg room, trent watching you as you did so.

"oh, you're definitely not new to this."

which was true, you weren't. you've had your fair share of late-night drives to get some fresh air back in london. the only difference was the person you were with, a distant memory that you weren't too fond with but maintained at the back of your mind.

you were sat with a large fries, a chocolate milkshake and a mcflurry. you dubbed it the ultimate late-night combo and trent was eager enough to take your word for it, and to his surprise it did not disappoint despite being so simple.

it didn't take long for the atmosphere to clear and for you to ease into conversation. dabbling a bit in random aspects of your lives, to movies, to football and to just nothing. you loved how easygoing it was, not much thought had to be put into anything you said which left you with room to just relax.

"so your mum's not from liverpool?"

you shook your head and took another sip from your milkshake. "she's from london, my dad's from liverpool. but they lived together here for a bit, and two or three years after I was born we moved back to london."

the explanation made trent tutt in disappointment. "and here I thought you were a purebred brit. your accent's probably fake too."

"the accent is real thank you very much," you defended with a hand to your chest.

he quirked a brow, "let's be honest here. you probably dated colwill. you were probably neighbours or something."

your eyes widened a fraction at his comment in utter shock. "levi?" well wasn't this just lovely, you couldn't help but laugh at the thought. "he's three years younger than I am."

trent scrunched his face at you, not convinced by your answer almost as if he knew something you didn't. "age is just a number or whatever they say. but no," he thought for a moment, "you couldn't have been with him because he would have said something by now."

it was strange to see this considering that trent literally played with levi in the england team, so the dots would've been connected long ago if you were in fact in cahoots with levi. it was quite the compliment, knowing that you were paired up with someone that attractive.

"if I were with levi then I wouldn't be in liverpool right now. I'd be back in london living my best life." your answer seemed to pique trent's interest, questions bubbling at his throat the more he found out about you.

"why is it that you left london?" he leant back into the seat, his full attention now on you in the dimly lit car. "I'm sure it's not just because of work."

oh definitely not. you just happened to get lucky there.

your lips pursed as you thought, not sure just how much he wanted to know or how much you were willing to tell. but it wouldn't hurt right?

"uhm," you cleared your throat, "bad breakup."

trent's intrigue increased at your answer, one that he wasn't expecting to be honest. he was expecting something more along the lines of running away from home because your parents' divorce or to be closer to maya.

"you don't look like the relationship type," he answered truthfully and your eyes widened in slight shock, feelings mixed and a bitter taste in your mouth.

how were you supposed to interpret that? negatively? positively? was he calling you independent?? the internal struggle was mind boggling.

you pushed the comment to the back of your mind and let out a hum. "no yeah, he cheated on me."

"oh fuck."

"with my best friend."

"oh fuck."

a laugh escaped your mouth at his reaction and how it got progressively more concerned with each passing second, and your nonchalance wasn't making him feel any better. he fumbled over his words for a bit, switching between the usual "I'm so sorry" and "you've got to be joking right now".

you assured him that you were fine, a closed lippsed smile drawn across your lips. "but like hey," you raised your hands jokjngly, "his name was michael so..."

trent blew out a breath at that and quirked a brow. "yeah, no you definitely asked for it then."

your rolled your eyes and played along for a moment, "I know right. and it didn't help that she was literally his best friend before we got together."

it was every cliché in the book to trent which only made the situation less serious, and seeing that you weren't showing any sort of discomfort towards it he didn't stop himself from laughing and getting back at you. "you just love making horrible life choices."

you nodded eagerly in agreement, saying that it was actually your forte— a gift that you just happened to be born with. it didn't take long for you to ask trent how he didn't know about the breakup. "I'm not famous but it was all over twitter for quite some time."

you came to learn that he wasn't a social media buff and preferred to keep to himself by just staying at home and enjoying his own company and you respected him for that. for you however, it was slightly different because your entire life was on social media but you didn't regret it.

the people that you met and the content that you had the opportunity to create were more than you could ever ask for. but obviously there were the downs— public breakups, hate comments, death threats. nothing out of the ordinary. quite a bit of your life was on display for the world to see so you understood trent's want to keep his life as private as possible.

you were getting to that point as well. you had a total of two friends— maya and clara. your daily routine consisted of waking up, going to work, pilates, pop into a barnes and noble, settling in at home and going live for a few hours. that was your quiet life and you were thoroughly enjoying it.

and trent did a damn good job at keeping his life private, skylar was an absolute myth to everyone. that and you felt that it was time to shift the attention to him for a bit.

"so what happened between you and name not to be mentioned? seeing as we're getting emotional here."

he wouldn't use the word "emotional" but a heart-to-heart was blatantly taking place, even though it wasn't planned. there was a look on his face that screamed how do I explain this? and it had you chewing on your lip for answers, any sort of answer.

it took trent a moment but he eventually let his guard down. "well rumors say that I cheated on her with some random youtuber's girlfriend— which is insane by the way."

not really.

"we dated for nearly two years, she was nice, came to my matches, said I made her heart do flips or something like that." the way it fell from his lips wasn't the slightest bit tasteful, no good reminisce or fondness in his tone at all.

you continued to listen to trent as he explained his relationship with skylar a bit more, furthering into how they met and whatnot. it wasn't anything crazy, just through a mutual friend and he decided to take her on a few dates just for fun, until they're eventually hit it off.

"I thought it was going well but then she said she needed a break out of nowhere, and I was like excuse me?" he said with just as much enthusiasm as if he were still in the moment, his forehead creased in confusion as he looked at you.

he was hurt and it was subtle but not subtle enough to miss. "and she just left without explaining?"

"no," he sighed. "she said she couldn't handle the restriction and needed some time to live her life but obviously the lads thought otherwise. robbo said it was emotional manipulation but I don't know."

"that girl is insane trent. she uses your bank card more than you do. she flakes out on most of your dates and when you try to speak to her about an issue or how you're feeling she gets emotional and starts playing the victim, while you try and apologise. get her out of your life."

this was at least a ten times worse than your situation and you were sympathising at this point. skylar was in fact a manipulator and trent wholeheartedly did not want to admit that.

"and now what? she just shows up and you're fine?" the question came out a little harsher than you intended so you immediately apologized, not wanting to ruin the moment and make him feel awkward. but it was a genuine question and you were borderline worried for him.

there was a moment of silence that enveloped the two of you, filled with even more uncertainty than before. "I don't know to be honest. she hasn't said anything yet but I haven't really been in the mood to confront her yet— I have bigger things to worry about right now."

okay, that was true. his head had to be in the game, and with his team, not some girl who came to lounge around for whatever reason. but you genuinely felt bad for him, a new light shone over him after this evening— one that revealed a little more vulnerability than he let on and it tugged at your heart strings.

driving home about an hour later with that knowledge sitting at the back of your mind wasn't the easiest and you just knew that it was going to keep you up tonight. plaguing your mind, sounding over your other thoughts that were probably more important, for example— the script that you had to give to one of the p.r members for an episode of Up the Reds!, the schedule for certain uploads and how the accounts had to be managed, as well as certain photoshoots and interviews that needed to be prepared beforehand and the packing you had to finish before--

"hey sweetheart," you cooed into the receiver end of your phone which just happened to catch trent's undivided attention but yours was out the window, as you adorned a soft smile.

"don't 'hey sweetheart' me," the voice of the teenager bit back but you swear you could hear him smiling. "you didn't tell me you were making the trip."

oh, he just had to go and tell the entire world huh?

you huffed out a breath, "in my defence, I only made the decision today." an unconvinced hum rang through your hear and you stifled a laugh. "are you going to be there?"

"no duh."

you rolled your eyes at the attitude he was giving you, which was nothing out of the ordinary. "I'm leaving in two days for the week so--"

"a week??" the shock in his tone was evident and you knew were this was leading. "he convinced you to stay for the week? and you said yes?!"

"I said yes so I could spend more time with you I swear. if you really think about it, I'm doing this for you."

"hm, oh really?" he dragged out and you pursed your lips to stop the laughter from escaping your lips. "I'm holding you to this. bye I'm leaving to try and comprehend the amount of lies that just came from your mouth."

"come on you can't be a--" you interjected but the boy was adamant.

"--bye!!"

you laughed sheepishly. "I love you."

"liar!"

that was nothing short of the usual phone call you seemed to get, a ghost of a smile still on your lips as you put your phone back down into your lap while trent mustered up the courage to say something.

"so." he gained your attention, his gaze immediately averting in front of him to the empty road as he drove a little slower than usual. "you're going somewhere?"

you perked up and nodded. "It's supposed to be to relax but I'm pretty sure I'll be more stressed out on that side of the world. I'll be back by next week though."

he probably should have asked where you were going but before you knew it, you were in front of your dad's house. and as suspected, all the lights were off but you knew he wasn't sleeping. he wouldn't even think about it until he knew that you were at home safely.

it was exactly 1:42 a.m., and only then had it hit you just how long you had stayed out. trent got out of the car and watched as you walked to the front door— the urge to say something tickling at his throat. something other than "goodbye" but it wasn't there yet.

you gave him a small wave and put your hand on the door handle, but before you could turn it, it was pulled open from the inside— your dad stood against the doorframe with a sly grin that you were so close to slapping off his face but he was quick.

he put his hand out and waved at trent, the footballer slightly amused at your reaction and harsh movements to push your dad back inside, a laugh echoing as he waved back politely. "good evening mr carter."

you whipped around and sent a glare trent's way but he was far more than pleased.

"jamie, why didn't you say that your boyfriend was a footballer?"

your heart dropped to your stomach. "dad! i swear I'm going to--"

your father continued on playfully. "and he plays for us? so you do have reasonable taste in men. and here I thought I raised an idiot."

trent was as a loss for words by now, his eyes flickering from you as you tried to loosen yourself from your father's grip on your shoulders. he knew you were blushing, but his was masked well by the lack of lighting.

"anyway, thank you so much for returning my daughter in one piece trent. I hope she didn't bother you too much." he tightened his grip on you and ruffled your hair. "she's rather irritating in my opinion."

"not at all," trent managed through a laugh. "she's great company."

your father didn't agree with his answer at all and he made it blatantly obvious until he finally bid trent goodbye and got back into the house where you basically jumped onto his back, your arm wrapped around his neck in a chokehold.

"why are you like this?? I have to see him at work!"

"that's your fault for dating a colleague!"

"we're not dating!"

"that's exactly what your mother told me about her and shawn. and now look where that led us!"

#footballer imagine #fanfic #footballer x reader #trent alexander arnold fluff #footballer x you #trent alexander arnold x reader #liverpool fc #football imagine #liverpool x reader #trent alexander arnold fanfic #afterglow trent alexander arnold #cherrei rambles #cherrei writes #writers on tumblr

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world-of-wales · 11 months ago

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─ •✧ CATHERINE'S YEAR IN REVIEW : JANUARY ✧• ─

9 JANUARY - Catherine celebrated her 41'st Birthday.

11 JANUARY - Catherine was spotted driving in Windsor.

12 JANUARY - Catherine and William were received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Merseyside (Mr. Mark Blundell). They opened Royal Liverpool University Hospital and later visited the Open Door Centre in Birkenhead.

13 JANUARY - Catherine held an Early Years Meeting.

18 JANUARY - Catherine was received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Bedfordshire (Mrs. Susan Lousada) as she visited Foxcubs Nursery in Luton

19 JANUARY - Catherine held an Early Years Meeting. Later in the afternoon she held a Reception for England Wheelchair Rugby Football League Team at Hampton Court Palace to celebrate the World Cup win.

25 JANUARY - Catherine held a Meeting with the Royal Foundation Centre for Early Childhood Advisory Group at Windsor Castle.

26 JANUARY - Catherine and William visited Windsor Foodshare in Berkshire. Later in the afternoon she held an Early Years Meeting. 28 JANUARY - Catherine appeared in a video for the Shaping Us Campaign. 29 JANUARY- Catherine visited Bethnal Green School in London. She also released an open letter explaining her work with the Early Years.

30 JANUARY - Catherine attended the Centre for Early Childhood "Shaping Us" Campaign Preview and Reception along with William.

31 JANUARY - Catherine appeared in a video message promoting the 'Shaping Us' Campaign of the Royal Foundation Centre for Early Childhood. The Princess of Wales also carried out the engagements in Leeds to launch the campaign. She was received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of West Yorkshire (Mr. Edmund Anderson) as she visited Kirkgate Market. Subsequently, Catherine visited the University of Leeds.

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on-a-lucky-tide · 26 days ago

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Hi hi hi I just ran into you and NikPrice and it makes me!!! wild!!!

You mentioned your hc for Price and I was wondering if there’s a place to read it? The little snippets you’ve offered have made me curious

More wild for Nikprice! Woop!

So, my headcanon is pretty heavy. It's part of the long work I'm writing called 'Skin and Bones'. It's a working title, and it's about John working through the trauma of his internalised homophobia, and allowing himself to have something good in his life. Accepting the idea that his hands aren't so dirty, he's not so broken and irredeemable, that he doesn't deserve a shot at happiness.

A lot of the short fics I write are exercising specific headcanons or characterisations or responses to see if I like them, to see if they work, for the long fic.

I'm writing the scene at the moment where he drives Nik away, says some really fucking cruel things, because he's scared, and frustrated, and angry. And Nik's heart kinda shatters... It's hard to write, and I'm getting through it because I know what the ending is.

The first few chapters are time jumps, and then there's meeting and getting to know Nikolai, falling in love with him, and then shoving that shit right down because Price isn't allowed it.

Anyway, uh... The start of the fic? To be honest, I might end up separating the early parts into its own prequel if it gets long enough. Smashing out 100k novellas on shit I'm obsessed with appears to be a pattern, and I put way, way too much of myself into these things but here we go.

cw: homophobia, evidence of physical abuse of a child, conversation about religion-based conversion therapy.

Liverpool, UK, 9th July 1999, 1800hrs

John watched the water droplets as they fell from his hair onto his school trousers, his face never lifting as voices rose and fell around him. Drip, drip. The dark spots that spread through the grey polyester on his lap formed an irregular pattern that he traced as his mind whirred mutely, numb.

“It's a sickness of the mind, it can be cured,” the vicar said, his hands clutching a brimmed mug of tea that read ‘No 1 Mum’ in a six year olds wonky handwriting. John’s little sister, the artist of the piece, played happily with her Barbie dolls in the corner of the room. She was none the wiser as to what had happened upstairs less than an hour before in her leftover bath water. John was glad. It was better that way.

“What…” John's mother started, but hesitated, like she was making sure she really wanted what she was asking for next, “what do we need to do?” She couldn't take her eyes off John. She hadn't since he'd entered the room, like she was worried he might mince off to find that boy again should her attention waver. In the car on the drive home, she had been hysterical, her hands white knuckled on the steering wheel - “ungrateful boy, all we’ve done for you, how could you do this to us? What will your gran say? Oh, her poor heart, you just wait til your father gets home” - each word like a knife through his chest. Her voice shook in the place of her hands now, which were tightly clasped in her lap. John wasn't sure what was worse; her look, or his father’s disregard.

David Price hadn't looked at him once since the bathroom. Not even a glance. John didn't need to see his face to know what he was thinking though. He had felt that just fine in the hand that had fisted his hair as it had pushed his head under the water and then the second that had backhanded him so hard across the jaw his vision had spun. His father had never hit him before. Maybe a slipper and a clip round the ear’ole when he was younger. But not like that. John knew even then that it had knocked something loose in him, that he would never be the same.

David stared through the net curtains into the street outside, his shoulders squared, his back as straight as if he stood on a parade square. He had invalided out, but there were some habits that never left. His back stood as a barricade between himself and the disappointment of a son hunched on the sofa behind him.

Drip, drip.

“School finishes in two weeks. There are programmes… youth camps that John can attend to help him… heal.” The vicar sipped his tea with a loud slurp. Milk, three sugars. John had made it for him. He sounded strange, John thought. He wasn't from Liverpool, but somewhere down south. Way south. Like Kent maybe. He was too proper. That's probably why his parents had called him in. Posh people, people with money and education, they knew things, had connections. They could fix John.

John felt insignificantly small and he gathered his hands into his lap. He was broken and the posh vicar would fix him for his parents.

A camp didn't sound so bad; it would be like the cadet camps he went on. Mud, climbing, running, stories around the campfire and whispered conversations in sleeping bags while the NCOs supervising them had a beer. John could do that if it made his family happy. He could make this right.

The drips were slowing down.

“These camps,” his father didn't look away from the window as he spoke in a slow, deliberate way, “they’ll be disciplined, strict? None of this… namby-pamby shit.”

John’s mother frowned. “David! Language.”

“They're highly ordered. Every hour of the day is occupied with activities. I assure you. It's not a quick fix though. It may take years, regular visits with a therapist, to rid John of this addiction. There is an expense, of course…”

'We head to Springfield now here on BBC2 as Homer tries his hand at some vigilante justice.' John looked up at the TV and watched the stylised number two flicker and bounce, before it cut to the intro sequence. It sounded distant, like he was listening through a wall and trying to catch the words. His sister dumped her dolls and grabbed her juice box. “Bart!”

“Doesn't matter,” David said, finally leaving the window. Every muscle in John’s wiry, fourteen year old frame seized. The world came flooding back in and then narrowed in on the huge, rough hand that grabbed his chin. “No son o’ mine’ll end up a fag. We’ll get you fixed up, Johno. No cost spared. Whatever this is, wherever this has come from, we’ll get it gone. Even if I ‘ave t’ beat it out of you meself.”

“Yessir,” John replied, his voice small and strangled in the back of his throat. His chest felt tight, his eyes prickled. He knew if he cried his father would be disgusted, and so he swallowed the tears. He could fix this. He would fix this. He could be better: the best. Whatever it took.

#skin and bones #i think i posted this before somewhere?#captain john price

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formulalfc · 10 months ago

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a blurb on trent and you moving in together and you’re moving across the world to his place.. so the day you fly to the uk you’re all over the place, a bit sad and sobby about leaving your family… you’re happy you’re gonna be living with the love of your life but you still feel a bit emotional.. and trent i think would feel so bad that you’re the one who has to leave and sacrifice a lot for your relationship and he’s being the best, most comforting boyfriend from the airport till you reach your new place

“welcome to our home, baby”

no i actually need a full short fic on this

Welcome Home

Trent Alexander Arnold x Reader

tw-none i don't think

When you saw your boyfriend at the airport, you couldn't help but run straight into his arms, smiling widely at the feeling of being back in your lover's arms. "I missed you" was whispered into your shoulder where he had tucked himself into your neck, breathing in your scent after being apart for some weeks now.

When you let go of each other Trent grabbed one of the bags you travelled with and threw it over his shoulder, gabbing your hand quickly afterward as he couldn't stand to be too far from you. You guys made your way through the airport, your boyfriend keeping his head down to avoid any unnecessary attention.

When you got to the car he packed your cases into the boot before climbing into the driver's seat, giving your hand a squeeze before he started the drive home.

You spoke about different things, your journey, when the rest of your belongings would be arriving, and how excited you were to finally be living with your boyfriend. Trent stole glances at you when he could, admiring the awe on your face as he drove, you had been to Liverpool before but you had never been able to take in the sights properly.

When he pulls into the driveway you're practically buzzing with excitement, unclipping your seatbelt and moving to the back of the car to help take your bags in. You guys get your bags in pretty quickly, leaving them in the hallway to take them up later.

You had been to Trent's house before but you walked around getting yourself familiarised with your surroundings again, you went into what you remembered to be Trent's gaming room to see that it was empty, so you called him in.

"Baby where did all your gaming stuff go?"

"Oh, i moved them into another room so that you have your own room to do what you want with, we can put an office in there for you or do whatever you want."

You were completely gobsmacked, "but baby it's your house you don't need to move your things for me."

"Baby this is OUR house and i'm happy to move my gaming things so that you can have your own space, relationships are about sacrifice and this is your space now as well so don't stress honey."

You pout your lips at his cuteness, giving him a kiss and a thank you before he pulls you out of the room and into the hallway.

You are both trying to figure out a way to get all of your things to where they need to go when you spot your childhood teddy on top of your bag. And all at once everything hits you, the fact that you've moved halfway around the world and you can't just drive down the road to see your parents anymore. You can't just message your brother and ask if he wants to go to lunch with you and bitch about some girl you went o high school with.

And you burst into tears.

Trent looked at you completely startled at your outburst but quickly gathered you into his arms, shushing you and stroking your hair to try and calm you down. You were trying to apologise to him but you couldn't get the words out and so you just ended up sobbing harder into his chest.

After a while you manage to calm down, wiping your eyes and catching your breath, and trying to avoid meeting Trent's eyes as an overwhelming sense of guilt overtook you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so upset I think everything just hit me at once," you tried to apologise.

Trent's heart broke at your admission, feeling responsible for taking you away from your life back home, "it's okay to be upset baby, you've made a big move and its gunna be a bit overwhelming at first but i'm going to be here for you and make it as easy as i can okay baby?"

You feel your eyes water again at his kindness as you nod your head to him. He spent the rest of the evening trying to make you as comfortable as possible, cooking you your favourite meal and putting on a film he knows you love.

And you knew that no matter how much you missed your old home, as long as you were with Trent it would all be okay.

inbox is open send me some requests <3

#fic's with shan ;)#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold blurb #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold smau #taa x reader #taa66 #taa #liverpool fc #liverpool football club #lfc #liverpool #liverpool football club x reader #liverpool fc x reader #lfc x reader #lfc players

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dailyniallnews · 1 year ago

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Interview with Niall Horan, ex frontman of One Direction

If the global success with One Direction is now far behind, the fortune that Niall Horan is enjoying as a solo artists is very current. His third album was just released. Emblematic title: The Show, and the show could not get better than this. Article by Leonardo Clausi

Precisely because this is the new age of anxiety (from the title of the poem by W. H. Auden The Age of Anxiety, 1947, and from Symphony n. 2 by Leonard Bernstein inspired by it, 1949), Public Health around the world should prescribe listening to Niall Horan. As anti-anxiety medicine, tonic for the psyche, emotionally restorative medicine. Really, who else in the modern soft rock world is as capable of tuning in for ten tracks on an equally balmy wavelength, without ever straying into drama or comedy, as Horan does on The Show, third album since he went solo after the dissolution of One Direction, the (boy)band who competed with the Beatles in music sales? Not even the much more wanted colleague Harry Styles, with his unapologetic Bowie-ism that annoyed Tony Visconti so much.

30-year-old Horan doesn't have the same ambitions. We could easily ask him to go and pick out our daughter from school because he is so.. fragrant? Since 2016 - without stopping except from when forced by the pandemic - he's been writing music and bringing it on tour. A constant motion of three albums, the feverish craftsmanship of a diligent entertainer devoted to the career that he was raised in thanks to the shortcut, sometimes a brutal one, with which talent shows have short-circuited the discography and industry of A&R (Artists and Repertoire). We intercept him as he drives, always busy as a bee. "I just came back from America yesterday. Today I am in Liverpool. It's constant travelling, I spend most of my time jetlagged". He is understandably satisfied with his latest discographic effort, which will become the center of the homonymous The Show Live on Tour, with the Italian stop on 21st March 2024 at the Mediolanum Forum in Milan: "I spent a lot of time writing and producing it during the pandemic and the year after. I’m happy, the response has been very, very interesting around the world". Not surprising, considering the melodic quality of the tracks, touched by the Californian light of the Laurel Canyon, with vocal harmonies reminiscent of the Beach Boys, and references to the Eagles and Fleetwood Mac. "I trusted that I could write a song. I knew I had the ability to do it. I just needed to trust that I could get a guitar, or sit at a piano, and something good would come out of it. It's out, but you never know. I need to keep my head down, work hard and see".

The 70s were his first introduction to music through records (or vinyls, as hipsters say), which were floating around the house; the real love however started "when I realised how lucky I was to have grown up with music that stayed with me to this day. My parents had a large album collection. I still listen to a lot of them now. When I’m in the studio I often use analogue mixing desks, it’s an important part of the sound I’m looking for". Speaking of the search for the 'organic' sound that digital audio is not able to embody all the way, what does he think of artificial intelligence, now that creators in the entertainment industry are taking the streets as well to protest against forcibly becoming obsolete? "Artificial intelligence can really do a lot, but it can’t give you that feeling that I call the human touch. It couldn’t write 'Hey Jude' or any other masterpiece. Humans will always have the upper hand".

Horan's Irishness is a prominent element of his personality, that proud affability that made his country a cultural superpower despite its size. And that was worth the warm reception of none other than the POTUS, who is also a descendent of the Celtic diaspora. "For how small the nation is, the relevance we have worldwide is amazing. Only five million inhabitants, and yet our culture of drinking, night life, musical or literary traditions are known everywhere. It's something I always keep in mind and want to show off as much as possible. And yes, I was invited at Washington to meet Joe Biden". Understandably, the fact excites him: "It was crazy that someone from a small town like mine (Mullingar, northwest of Ireland, ed.) ended up playing for the President of the United States at the White House. I still can't believe it". Not to mention the fact that, from a particularly bigot and conservative society that it once was, Ireland is now one of the most advanced and liberal ones of the West. "I'm not sure how it happened, but I am very proud of it. It was great to see it become one of the first countries to have gay marriage, for example. And I’m proud that it’s acting as a catalyst for change in other countries".

And does he know U2, this compatriot up and coming group? Would he collaborate with them? "Some of my all time favourite songs are by U2, their shows are some of the best I’ve ever been to. It would be great to do something with them if they ever ask". Coming from one of the best selling bands meant that there was a challenging precedent to compete with. But Niall Horan is doing great. It's impossible to refrain from asking about a 1D reunion. "It’s a busy time for everyone, so no, not that I know of. We keep in touch but everyone’s doing their own thing. Louis is touring in America, Liam is working on his music, Harry’s busy on the biggest world tour... In fact, if you hear about a reunion, please let me know".

#niall horan #article #icon magazine #19sep23

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bijouxcarys · 9 months ago

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𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 (𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

Masterlist

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Description: Sometimes the pain of what should never have been, opens your eyes to what can be.

Tags: @firethatgrewsolow @whothefuckisanja @celestial-dragoness @chromations @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @m-faithfull @strsmn @callmethehunter @angrychicksposts (if you want to be added to the tag list, just let me know!)

The amber liquid sloshed gently as another glass was filled, marking a gradual countdown to a much-anticipated break.

In the heart of Walsall, John Bonham's pub buzzed with life on that particular day. The recent return of kids to school after half-term holidays granted parents a brief respite, allowing them to savour the comforting ambiance of their cherished local haunt.

Walsall might not have dazzled the urban enthusiasts accustomed to the bustling streets of London, Liverpool, or Manchester. However, for the residents, it was a haven. The community thrived in tight-knit bonds, where familiarity bred friendship. In Walsall, faces weren't just faces; they were familiar chapters of a collective story.

For Elena, the pub job John had offered was a lifeline, an escape from the logistical challenges of her previous employment that entailed rides back and forth. The relentless hour-long bus ride on days when John couldn't drive her had become a wearisome routine. Yet, she never had to ask; John's commitment to her safety was unwavering. Opting for the haven of John's pub proved to be a decision that reshaped Elena's narrative, making it the finest choice she'd ever made.

Elena gingerly massaged her lower back, easing the strain from bending over the rack of pint glasses. A flush of warmth crept across her face, and the rebellious baby hairs escaping her ponytail adhered to her forehead. Glancing at the clock above the bar had become a ritual, each tick dragging its heels toward the elusive 2pm.

The half-apron snugly tied around her waist doubled as a saviour, mopping the moisture above her eyebrows and guarding against any accidental beverage spills. A fleeting grimace transformed into a welcoming smile as the next patron patiently awaited service.

John's pub drew a crowd of amiable souls, and Elena effortlessly charmed them, especially the older clientele. Navigating conversations with the seasoned regulars was her forte. Despite the occasional pang of longing for a break, she generally relished her role. The only thorn in her side was the relentless passage of time, leaving her body ablaze with exhaustion. Today was no different; an unrelenting marathon had her yearning for a damn cigarette break.

Adjusting the grip on her ponytail, Elena’s attention was snatched by the entrance of two familiar faces, their boyish grins lighting up the pub like a burst of energy.

John and Robert, when together, had developed an aura of mischief since they met. They were both confident in each other’s presence, and both knew they were destined for greatness. Although Crawling King Snakes had disbanded early that year, the pair were still in touch and had become virtually inseparable, which in turn meant Elena saw Robert a lot more than what she would have otherwise.

It hadn’t even been a year since she met him and it felt like she’d known him an entire lifetime. She’d already picked up on his little quirks and mannerisms; the way his smile was slightly crooked, his accent thickened when talking about something he loved, and his eyes would narrow when in deep thought. Elena would poke fun at Robert when the Black Country accent warped his words into almost unintelligible murmurs, but he was always quick to bounce back with a light comment about her own accent.

Recently, Robert had started to let his hair grow out along the sides, turning his blonde locks into a short mass of messy curls that now dropped down into a fully defined beard. It was an intricate development, experiment, he was trying out, searching for a style he felt fit him perfectly.

“El!” John’s voice echoed cheerfully, arms flung wide in a theatrical greeting as they approached the bar. Elena’s face lit up in response, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Y’alright, Bon Bon?” she inquired with a sly grin, her gaze subtly drifting to the blonde figure beside John. “Hi,” she added, her voice a soft undertone.

“Workin’ hard, I see,” John teased, playfully tapping his fist on the freshly polished surface.

“Obviously. Isn’t that why you handed me this job?”

“Could’ve been just because you’re my best friend.”

“Oh, not because I’m a hard worker or anything, eh?” Elena retorted, shooting a smirk at Robert, who observed the banter with an amused expression. “I’m so glad you hold me in such high esteem, John.” With a snort of laughter, she tossed the cloth she had been using to wipe the bar into the wash bin, adding a touch of flair to the mundane task.

“Nah, just joshin’ with you, El. Look at your face! You’re clearly putting in the effort,” John nodded his head in reference to her flushed cheeks and tired demeanour.

“Oh, thanks,” Elena deadpanned, giving him an exaggerated eye roll. “Have you had a good look at your own face lately?”

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” John tilted his head back, theatrically flipping his hair.

“You are so fucking insufferable. You’re lucky I love you,” Elena dismissed John with a playful grimace, a sentiment he returned with a mock offended expression. She then turned her attention to Robert. “And how are we today, Robert?”

“Ah, not too shabby, not too shabby,” he shrugged casually, leaning against the bar with a nonchalant air. “You?”

“Oh, I’m having the absolute time of my life here,” she answered Robert but darted her eyes over at John, who was occupying himself by creating a steady rhythm with his hands. He was entirely in his own world, head moving along with the beat he’d created. Looking back at Robert, she smirked. “Has he been smoking again?”

Robert stifled a laugh, standing up straight and nudging John. “Oi, Bonzo!” No answer. “My Lord…” he muttered, resuming his previous position. “Not been smoking, just bangin’ on about Ginger Baker for the last half hour.”

“Ginger Baker… why’s that name sound familiar?”

“Cream.”

“Ah, yes!” she clicked her fingers with a nod, “That’s right… Great, aren’t they?”

“Superb, yeah,” Robert nodded. “You listened to their new album yet?”

“Uh, of course I have, I never miss a new record from my favourite artists,” she told him pointedly.

“You don’t have any of mine!” John interrupted.

“Oh, so you’re competent now, are you?” Elena jested. “You don’t have any records, you plonker.”

As she and John continued their usual back and forth—nothing but love—Robert kept his eyes fixed on Elena. He’d known it within the first 15 minutes of meeting her. He just knew. Deep in his soul. As sure as he was that the sun would rise in the morning. He liked her.

She was so entirely endearing to him, and that only intensified throughout the months he’d had to get to know her. It turned him into a giddy little boy, the way she made him feel whenever she was around. Her smile was totally intoxicating, even more so when paired with that accent—that stabbing bluntness that gave her an air of invincibility.

When John had made a passing comment about visiting Elena at work, Robert was almost embarrassed at how quick he was to encourage the idea, his stomach flipping at the mere mention of her name. If it were up to him, he’d have sprinted his peppy self all the way down that road and bulldozed into the pub. He would have dove over the bar, taken her into his arms and attacked her with kiss after kiss…

But he simply could not bring himself to make that move. Never had he ever felt this intimidated about approaching a girl he found attractive. Perhaps it was the lingering knowledge that her rejection would strain his relationship with John, or the straight fact that he couldn't muster up the correct string of words to accurately convey the urge he had to be around her.

So, he did the safest thing and cherished the friendship they’d formed, making the most out of every moment he got with her.

“Listen, I got ya a lovely little job in my lovely little pub,” John gestured around him. “What’s so wrong with the decor?”

Robert was quickly brought back from his thoughts as Elena let out a jubilant laugh. My favourite sound…

“Uh, there aren’t enough plants. Try putting some plants in here, Bon. Plants make everything more lively and colourful!” She gave him a playful pout, batting her lashes in a plea for botanical relief.

Robert stood straight again, nodding his head at John. “Go’won mate, it won’t hurt.”

“Shut up, you, you��re supposed to be my friend.”

“And I am, but give the girl a plant.”

“We don’t need plants in here, El,” John tried to reason with the brunette, who had already settled with the fact she would not be getting her way this time. It was his pub, after all…

“Besides,” John continued, “The only ‘plant’ anyone ever needs is right here.” He shot a glance at Robert, whose eyes widened in a subtle appeal for silence.

Elena raised her eyebrow, arms folded, and looked over at the boy in question. It was a relief to see Elena smiling at the comment, taking it lightly, and Robert was quick to breathe out his ease. He was lucky John hadn’t caught the fleeting exchange of smiles between the two, and mentally praised his decision to keep the beard in its concealment of a pink flush.

“Fine,” she sighed, facing the drummer. “But you owe me, Bonham.”

“Anything but a plant, please,” he groaned. “What time’s your break?”

Another useless glance at the clock proved a whole 10 minutes had passed, yet it was still a gruelling 20 from her golden 2pm. With a small whimper, she told him.

“Well, why don’t you go on break now, I’ll man the bar.” He gestured for her to come out of her enclosure with a sympathetic nod of his head.

“Really?” she breathed, already moving to untie the apron from her waist. “Ugh, you’re a lifesaver, cheers, Bon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, catching the apron as Elena threw it to him. “And take ‘im with ya,” he pointed at Robert. “If I have to hear about fuckin’ Derrick Morgan and that reggae shit for another second, I’ll wring his neck in.”

“Ses you with fuckin’ Ginger Baker, ya twat,” Robert shot back with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, leave him alone, Bon Bon, just because he can grow out his beard,” teased Elena as she passed him by.

“Yeah, but look at this ‘tache.” He ran his fingers over the thick hair above his top lip, encouraging a laugh from Elena.

“See you in a bit,” she shook her head, the smile still lingering, as she and Robert made their way out the back of the pub.

“You put up with that your whole life?” Robert asked with a smirk as she stopped in the cloakroom to dig out her cigarettes from her jacket pocket.

With a nod, she giggled and gestured to the correct door. Pushing it open, he gave a theatrical bow in Elena’s direction. “Ladies first.”

“Oh, thank you,” she responded with an equally flamboyant nod, stepping outside into the cool May breeze. Whilst the pub’s atmosphere was laid back and welcoming, there were some ventilation issues that made it stuffier than most would prefer; especially if they were working. Elena had to take a minute to breathe in the fresh air around her before lighting up her cigarette.

The space behind the pub was a small, abandoned patch of land that doubled as the car park. It meant Elena could be alone during her breaks and smoke as much as she wanted without the possibility of judgemental eyes. Not that she particularly cared what others thought about her; she would just prefer not to find herself in an altercation.

“I’m telling ya, don’t ever work in a pub,” she advised Robert, groaning as she slid down the wall into a seated position on the floor. With a chuckle, he joined her, weary of how close he was. Just a few more inches to the right and his leg would be touching hers. Don’t do it, Rob… So he settled for bending his knees and resting his arms on top of them.

“‘S not that bad, is it?” he peered at her through squinted eyes, the afternoon sun lashing down on them. Elena shrugged, crossing her ankles together and rolling them to relieve her of the burgeoning ache.

“Nah, it’s alright. John just needs to put some proper ventilation in there.” She flicked some ash onto the gravelly floor. “There’re plenty of things I’d rather be doing, but it’s okay for an 18-year-old that doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing yet.”

Robert gave her an understanding nod and smiled to himself. “What would you rather be doing?”

“I’m not too sure yet,” she thought, resting her head against the wall. “I’ve only just finished sixth form. Everyone’s buggering off to uni—it was a struggle just surviving the last 2 years, I ain't gunna spend thousands on a bloody degree.”

“I mean, you must be smart if you made it through sixth form, at least,” Robert speculated, unable to unglue his eyes from Elena as she took a long drag from her cigarette.

“It was mostly to appease my dad,” she snorted, blowing out excess smoke into the air. “Oh, do you want one, by the way?” She turned to him, offering out her packet of Marlboros.

Looking down at the pack, he couldn’t resist. “Well, if yer offerin’,” he accepted somewhat giddily with a shrug of his shoulders. Elena giggled, passing him one before striking a match, leaning in to light it up for him. “I coulda lit it meself,” he mumbled out the side of his mouth, but gladly leaned into the flame.

Perhaps he was imagining things, but he swore he caught the scent of her perfume—or is it her hair—as she cupped her hand over his cigarette and the match, her own cig dangling from her lips. Whilst she was distracted with the small task, he took a moment to let his eyes wander over her face, still slightly red from her labour. Thick, dark brows knitted in concentration, long eyelashes untouched by makeup, the natural glow of her skin… He’d never had the chance to take a good look at her up close like this, but he wasn’t expecting to fall even deeper into whatever spell she had unknowingly cast upon him.

What he didn’t catch, however, whilst admiring the slope of her nose, was how she took her own experimental glance at him. It was brief, but long enough to truly admire the vibrancy of his eyes; she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen any as blue before.

And it was definitely long enough to notice his wandering gaze.

She felt strange being in such close proximity to Robert, but it was in no way unpleasant. His energy was warm, that much she gathered from the day they met; it was the reason she enjoyed being friends with him so much. Robert had the warmest soul she’d ever crossed paths with, even though she’d known him for the short span of 10 months.

Pulling back, she shook the match, the smoky residue thick in its ascendance, before she dropped it beside her, swiftly joined by the ash that had collected at the end of her cigarette.

With a small smirk on her face, she watched Robert as he took a drag. Yes, he was definitely looking at her…

Then, his bushy eyebrows narrowed, as if in confusion, and he snapped his head towards her. “Hang on, 18?”

“18 what?” She mirrored his expression.

“Since when were you 18?”

“Uh, since last week.”

Robert’s mouth dropped open, an almost offended expression taking over his features.

“What?” she laughed. “What’s that face for?”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

Tilting her head to the side, she pulled her mouth into an amused line. “Didn’t think it was that important.”

“Your 18th isn’t important?” he gasped.

“Well, yeah, it’s an important age, but I didn’t know I needed to tell you about it,” she chuckled.

“I coulda gotten you summet, luv…”

“Don’t be silly, Robert, you never needed to get me owt.”

“Owt?”

“Anything—you wouldn’t have needed to get me anything!” she huffed.

He held back a laugh by bringing his cig to his lips. “Okay, if you insist…” he murmured.

Even though he was taking a jab, yet a-fucking-gain, at her accent, and being allusive about her birthday, she couldn’t suppress the smile it put on her lips. She lowered her eyes to her legs for a moment, picking at the skin around her thumb, before looking back over at Robert.

“My birthday’s the 13th. For future reference…” Her voice had dropped to a softer tone, and she gave him a smile of the same candour.

“Noted,” Robert nodded. “Don’t be complainin’ if I ever get you owt, though. For future reference,” he smirked.

“You’re as bad as him in there,” she nodded her head towards the door, wondering how John was coping behind the bar and finding some unbridled amusement in the image.

There was a small silence between the two, during which she had finished her cigarette and was now simply reclining against the jagged bricks that made up the pub.

“How’s everything going with finding a new band?” she asked him after a moment, staring up at the clouds now that they had mercifully shielded the sun.

Robert’s sigh was heavy, and through stubborn lips. He shook his head, grumbling something incoherent before finally answering. “‘S alright…” He ran his tongue over his teeth, narrowing his eyes in thought. “Uh, Elena?”

“Hm?”

“D’ya think… I dunno, if I were to ask…” he paused, clicking his tongue. “Ya think Bonzo would be up for playin’ with me again?” He looked at her with genuine curiosity.

It didn’t take much thought for her to reply with a confident nod. “Oh, absolutely! I mean, he’s having a lot of fun with A Way Of Life, but he really did enjoy working with you.”

He sighed in relief, smiling to himself at the response, it being exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Who wouldn’t?”

Robert instantly looked back up at Elena with slightly widened eyes, wondering if he’d just heard her correctly.

“A-as in you’re a good singer,” Elena was quick to clarify, “You’ve got a… just this… the right…” she stuttered, before sighing and looking right into his eyes. “Energy…”

Robert’s eyes softened and grinned characteristically, with a hint of bashfulness. “Tha–”

“Oi! Have you two finished your mother’s meeting out ‘ere?!”

The pair on the floor whipped their heads towards the door to see John’s face sticking out the small gap in it.

“Fucking hell, man, don’t do that!” Elena exclaimed, her hand shooting to her chest. “Wanker…” she mumbled as she pulled herself up from the floor and dusted off her trousers, Robert following suit.

Giving him a jesting shove on the way inside, Elena begrudgingly set herself up for resuming her shift. Meanwhile, Robert slowly made his way back inside, stopping to face his friend.

“Your timing is nothin’ short of fuckin’ exquisite, Bonzo.”

Playfully flicking his forehead, Robert sauntered his way back inside. And as he did, John watched with the complete knowledge of Robert’s seemingly ever-growing interest in his best friend.

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paulmcf4rtney · 2 years ago

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teddy boy george x reader please!! fem reader, maybe paul or john’s sister? lots of fluffy cavern goodness would be much appreciated!! 💗

anon asked for Teddy boy!George x fem reader!!!! THANK U SM FOR THE RQ! <33

definitely gonna go with paul hehe

———

-You being the sister of the prettiest boy in school gave you lots of attention, girls asking you for favors, giving you notes to pass n share to your brother, the list goes on.

-Paul always flirted back with the women he talked to, but he had competition with George either way when it came to girls.

-You were so in love with him the more you noticed his presence, which of course made it worse, you couldn’t help it. His smile, his wink.. The way he talked to you like you were the only girl in the world.

-Paul found out about this and gave you a stern talking to, about not to “date boys” and especially NOT GEORGE. It was hypocritical, he could flirt but you couldn’t date a single boy?

-Did you care though? No, no you didn’t. You felt seen for once, and not like a shadow behind your brother. You knew it wasn’t his fault and he was only trying to protect you.

-Either way you were on George’s radar, you both started to get closer (emotionally and physically) to the point you were having dreams about him.

-You talked to him almost every day at this point, before, during and after school. Your brother caught on but you told him nothing would happen.

“Aye, you wanna come by my place? My parents aren’t gonna be home, we can watch a movie.” George whispered to you in class with that thick Liverpool accent that made your body melt.

You nodded, trying not to alert the teacher and get you or him in trouble.

And after-school outside like always you meet up with him, this time you told your brother you had somewhere to be and not to wait up for you, that had raised a little suspicion from Paul but he didn’t want to give you a hard time anymore than he already has.

You were nervous? Sort of? This was the first boy that paid this much attention to you in what felt like forever. You held George’s hand by instinct, you were gonna pull away out of embarrassment but he locked his fingers with yours.

If your face wasn’t red before it was definitely red now. George spoke up again, “My house ain’t too far but I still gotta drive..”

“You have a car???” Surprised, I mean, why wouldn’t you be surprised!? When he walked you out to his vehicle you realized partially why girls liked him so much.. A hot ride and a guitarist at the same time was all he needed to score.

“Yep, a real beauty ain’t she?”

You hummed in response

You got in as he did, strapping in. He started the engine and drove off. You didn’t dare to touch anything or even look at him, you were bad with eye contact when it came to your crushes. (Sucks that Paul decided to always scare them away) But you knew George was different.

He didn’t take shit from anyone, not even your brother. In fact i’m sure he likes the idea that he’s going against Paul. George didn’t say much the whole ride, he put on music though.

You didn’t mind how quiet it was, but you were too deep into your thoughts to realize he had parked the car already, snapping you out by the sound of his voice. “Cmon, i’ll show you inside n’ let you pick out the movie if ye want.” And there was that fucking smile again.

He let you step out of the car, holding your hand again. His hands were very soft just like his voice, he didn’t rush you or try to make a move.. It was nice.

You entered, and his house was actually really pleasing in decorum. His parents definitely raised him well, it showed.

There was blankets folded next to the couch in a basket, pillows perfectly placed on each side.

George kicked his shoes off, so you did the same, he was asking you what you wanted to watch since his parents owned a collection of tapes/movies you looked through them, picking one that happened to be horror.

You both were *almost* cuddled up on the couch under the blankets, until a scary scene came on you jumped and grabbed onto George’s shirt, hiding your face in his chest. You liked scary movies but the scenes still make you jump.

He held you tight and petted your hair, whispering to you that there was nothing to be scared about. “Ya don’t need to be so frightened i’m here, it’s okay.”

You sniffled at his response, opening ur eyes to look at him and that’s when he kisses you. Softly, yet holding back in case you weren’t ready.. But you were ready and knew it.

It felt like a thousand butterflies were in your stomach and chest by how close your faces were.

George didn’t let you go or stopped kissing your head until the movie was over, anytime the movie had a jumpscare he’d hold you tighter. You really have never experienced something like this, it was so comforting.

This was the first step to dating and having George as your own, all to yourself.

“I can drive you home, pretty girl.” He said with that gentle tone again, kissing your lips longer this time, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Oh shoot yeah, you definitely should.. So, does this mean we’re like.. Dating?” You sprouted the question to him, averting your eyes.

“Guess it does, why else would I be kissing ye?”

You knew you would have to explain to Paul and your parents why you were gone so long, but it would be worth it. So so worth it when you get home. <3

#the beatles #teddy boy george #george harrison x reader #the beatles x reader #fluff #paul mccartney

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yall-batman-fanfic · 1 month ago

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Our First Meeting Involved Murder and a Cult - Batman x Magician!Reader (Part 1/2)

Note: I'm not used to writing 2nd Person or "[Name]", I'll be using the name Vivian Pryor for the reader in these stories.

Synopsis: Thriller-mystery lover and Symbologist, Professor Vivian Pryor, is the topic of Gotham when a murder took place at her debut book launch, and who better to solve the mystery but Batman! As Batman explore the murder and the attempt on the Professor's life, he comes to two hypothesis: a self-gain plan of a rising author and a cult leader that has disappeared from Gotham for a while now. To figure it out, he first needs to find out the Professor and why this cult wants her.

Vivian Pryor loves Dan Brown's novels. When she was sixteen, she remembered reading his first book, Digital Fortress, and became obsessed with the twists and turns of the plot. Then the first Robert Langdon book came and her step-father, Adam Royce, called her love for the books more an obsession. He remembered driving her to the bookstore and lining up to be for every book signing. Hell, it was one of the reasons why Vivian moved to Gotham City since Gotham University was the only place that offered the very same major as the main character of the books: religious iconology and symbology.

Vivian was a smart girl, her late mother and her step-father would always say she was smarter than anyone in the class. They weren't even shocked when she skipped a couple of grades in middle school. In high school, she would have skipped a couple of grades if she hadn't gotten with the wrong crowd -- some occultist group who went out battling demons -- but she got her life back together and was back on track. She was grieving around that time. Her mother just died and when she learned that some bloke in Liverpool could talk to the dead, she was all in. But after a certain incident, which she refuses to talk to her father about, Vivian returned to her studies and never tapped into the power she awakened in her time with the occultist.

But Vivian wasn't all just book smart, her upbringing wasn't the most conventional with her and her mother always moving from place to place, until it brought them to Liverpool, England, where they met Adam Royce who became Vivian's step-father. She was street smart, too, and most of her peers at Gotham University would say that it's that that got her to get that scholarship and put their professors in their place whenever they were being too cocky. Or whenever the spawns of Gotham's elite and powerful thought it would be a good idea to mess with those in the university's scholarship program.

"She didn't have the accent, but Vivian Pryor has the temper and the mouth of the English," said one of her close friends when they were interviewed about the woman for the launch of her book, and made the headlines in Gotham for donating half of her book sales to a charity that focuses on supporting and helping several orphanages and free schools, and provides teachers for those who have learning difficulties.

While Dan Brown's books, specifically Robert Langdon-centered books, inspired her career and success as a museum curator, professor, and now writer, there was one thing that she also yearned to have that every protagonist in those books had. A thrilling adventure filled with clues, mystery, and decoding symbols and riddles. Alas, the closest thing to decoding a riddle was the works of the Riddler, which bore her to death. Hell, if she had a death wish she would mail the Riddler all the answers he would broadcast to Batman just to embarrass him. Or send Batman the answer whenever he was taking too long to apprehend the villain.

Vivian Pryor has it all. Her dream job. Financial stability. The ability to help one of the foundations that helped her get the scholarship to Gotham University. She was still lacking a few things: Romance -- as her friends would keep reminding her -- and adventure.

Who would have thought she would find both in one case that involved the Batman, a cult, and at the very center of it was her? Specifically, her book launch centers around her book on: The Symbology of Gotham's Sacred Sects and Founding Families.

~*~

Vivian Pryor was freaking out. She has been since that morning after learning a few days prior that her one-hundred-guest list tripled when Bruce Wayne suddenly sent back his reply to the invitation to attend the event with a personal thank you letter to her for donating such an amount.

"I can't believe this," Vivian said to her stepfather whom she had on the phone for a video call. Adam Royce was there with her younger siblings. "I mean, I doubt my sales are even close to the money they throw at these charities! Do you know how much Wayne bid on some music box that Cobblepot wanted? Two million! Who throws away money just like that? I can't even buy a second slice of pizza without calculating if it would financially cripple me until the next payday!"

Adam could only laugh and say with his thick Liverpool accent, "You better believe it, love, because it's happening. This is it, your hard work is paying off, so enjoy it! And with the money you're getting, enjoy that extra slice of pizza without worry. All right?"

But tonight was the big night, and she can't screw this up, or else she'll be on the front page of every newspaper as the new best-selling author who threw up all over her guests because of a stage fight. Why was she even so scared? She's talked in lectures in front of hundreds of students and her colleagues -- but this was different. This was in front of Gotham. This had the press and everything. This has people like Bruce fucking Wayne!

"You okay, Viv?" Her agent asked.

"Yeah, I just -- I just need to use the bathroom real quick!" Vivian ran out of the room she was in and crossed the hall that was Gotham University, where she was hosting the event and was navigating through the people in there to head to the bathroom, and she should have watched where she was going because --

WHAM!

Vivian fell on the ground after slamming into what she thought was a wall.

"Are you okay?"

Only it wasn't a wall. Looking up, Vivian was sure she had a concussion because bending down to help her was none other than Bruce Wayne.

"I-I am so sorry, Mr. Wayne -- I wasn't looking where I was going!" Vivian got up on her own, dusting her high-waisted tweed pants and tweed jacket.

"I should be the one apologizing, I also wasn't looking," Bruce said. "You're Vivian Pryor, the woman of the hour."

"Yes. I am."

"I read a couple of the pages of your work, specifically the chapter about the Wayne family."

"I hope you didn't take offense with it."

His brows furrowed. "On the contrary, you did a good job in the research you did and the words you used to describe my family. It grounds the name from the pedestal that it's been placed on. If you're planning to write a more focused book on Wayne's history, I'd be glad to show you the archives kept in the manor for more authentic and intimate research."

Normally, any girl would blush with the innuendo of billionaire-philanthropist-playboy Bruce Wayne was putting out there, but Vivian was an honorary Liverpudlian (as dubbed by her high school friends there). She won't be easily swayed by that.

Before she could say something to ruin any future access to the Wayne archives for any future books, Vivian's agent called for her back to the room as the guests were all settling down.

~*~

Oh, how things went from bad to worse. It happened just like that and no one saw it coming. In the middle of her talk about one of the chosen subject matters in her book -- the chapter on the Waynes -- the projector was suddenly blocked by a large shadow of a hanging body. A scream erupted from the crowd as they saw the body hanging from the high ceiling that was of Vivian's agent.

And before she could realize what was happening, too stunned to find her good friend dead and her body hanging there like a display, Vivian was tackled down. It was Bruce Wayne who tackled her down as the man was one of the honored guests who sat on the stage with her.

"Wha -- why?" Vivian stuttered.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked.

She should have answered yes but as she looked into his eyes that was sincerely concerned, she answered truthfully "No." Then her gaze went beyond his shoulder and there she saw, throwing knives stabbing the white screen where her head was angled at. "No... I'm, I'm not alright."

After being saved by Bruce, Vivian was brought to the GCPD to be under their protection, and for the next few days she was guarded day and night in her apartment. But then, one evening, something happened.

It happened when she was sleeping, in the most unexpected way possible, and she wouldn't have woken up if IT hadn't alarmed her. Smoke was coming inside her room, and beyond that she could hear the officers trying to kick down her door. Vivian leapt out of her bed and tried to push the door open by the knob was too hot to hold and there was something blocking the way.

"HELP!" Vivian called out. But no one can hear her. Turning to her bed, she saw her window and she quickly went to it to escape -- she'll deal with the five-story drop later -- but it was locked. She can't open it! Placing her hands on the glass, Vivian pushed, putting her energy, into it until the glass broke, and just in time as Gotham's vigilante appeared to save her.

She was saved by Batman.

She couldn't believe it.

After the fire, Vivian was placed in a different location for her safety. She was given some of her things -- clothes, personal belongings, and her phone in that place. And while there all she could do was think. Why was this happening to her? Who would want to kill her? Why was someone trying to kill her? And why did they kill her agent? Her friend who helped her through all of this was dead. The friend who made this possible was murdered and her body was put on a display! Just imagining had Vivian running to the trash bin in the room.

She was too sick to hear the door opening. Her mind was too clouded with the memory of her agent's body dangling there and then flashes of her past -- the deaths that followed her -- to feel the new presence in the room, and only did when a hand was on her shoulder.

She turned her head and in a moment, she saw a face she never thought she would. "Mom?"

"Professor Vivian Pryor."

It wasn't her mother. Far from it. Her mother had long, auburn hair that was lighter than hers, green eyes with long lashes, pink lips, rosy cheeks, high cheek-bones. Not a hulking of a man wearing a bat costume and holding a handkerchief for her.

"Batman," she mustered up to say.

"Professor Pryor," he said again.

Vivian accepted the handkerchief and got up with the Batman's helping hand. She excused herself to get a glass of water and plucked from her mint to chew. She felt a wave of embarrassment that she breathed out vomit breath at the Batman's way.

"Does Commissioner Gordon know you're here?" Vivian asked.

"No. And I think it's best that he doesn't. Because I don't think you'd like him to hear what I'm about to say."

Vivian's brows furrowed, her silence urged him to continue.

"After investigating the venue and your home, there was one question that kept me wondering. Why now?"

"Excuse me?"

He told her about his investigations in Gotham University, her venue, which lead to more mysteries, and then in her burned apartment that also had more mysteries than Gotham City. He told her about what he found, the knife that was supposed to kill her, and what caused the fire, which had no ties to anyone he could think of but for one…

"Your book tackles a lot of dark secrets in Gotham, from its streets, the gargoyles, the religious cults, and the families. I'm sure you've caught the attention of some families who want to keep certain details secret. Am I wrong?"

"No... There are some -- I won't mention who -- who expressed their anger when I sent them the copies of the book. These are all researches from Gotham library archives, which are accessible to the public. It just so happens the public are not interested in digging deeper into those types of resources."

"The details of these emails?"

"They mostly threatened my career."

He hummed in thought before continuing. "If those families have expressed their opinions about the book, and if they did plot this elaborate scheme to kill you for it. Why just now? Why wait when the book is printed and has sold copies? Why start these murders on your launch?"

Vivian narrowed her gaze at him. "Are you implying something, Batman?"

"You're an author selling an unpopular genre. Who has an unknown name but for the circle she's in. You don't exactly have a conventional history, suffering from money problems. And a fan of mystery-thriller books. It won't be a surprise if you did something to capture the attention of the people to buy you --"

There was a sudden force that pushed him back, slamming him to the wall, then a gust of wind that pinned him there that felt like someone was stepping on his body. Then he saw it.

Her eyes. The ones that were deep brown were now glowing like the sun, and her outstretched hand was pointed at him, keeping him there. Vivian approached him, since he was taller than her, she forced him down to his knees as she sneered at his face, "Fuck you! You're just like any other cop here in Gotham! Trying to find an easy win! You think I don't know how this looks like for me and my career? I know! But right now, I don't care because my friend was murdered and I want to find out who did it! But here you are accusing me of this scheme I..." she turned her hand to a fist and Batman was choking, but she let go. Vivian turned away from the vigilante.

"So, you are a witch," Batman coughed.

Vivian turned to him with wide eyes, eyes that were now brown, "what?" she questioned him.

Batman smirked. "You're a smart girl, I'm sure you'd know why I did that."

"You asshole!" Vivian was about to slap him across the face but Batman caught her wrist. Then with his free hand, he held up a couple of photos.

They had markings. A spell.

"One was placed on your door at the venue with a post-it note, and the other carved on the entryway of your room. A protection spell, I guess?" He said, his smirk not faltering.

"I didn't think the Batman believed in magic."

"I've seen my fair share of it. But it's not always the first thing that comes to mind, especially in Gotham." He frowned. "This time, I should have. I didn't bother to know about these markings at first. I thought it was just some sort of ritual for you. A symbol you found in your research, a joke since you and your Agent laughed at it. But my ignorance almost killed you. I'm sorry."

"I wouldn't have died. The spell would have saved me. It's a protection spell from all external harm."

"Still, I shouldn't have brushed it off. Because if I hadn't, I would have found out who is after you as soon as possible."

"What do you mean?"

Batman took her hand and brought Vivian to the table to sit, he warned her about what he was going to show her but when he placed the photo down, Vivian choked a sob at the sight of her agent's body. It was mutilated with a knife carving on her flesh.

It brought memories back to her. Memories she buried in the back of her mind. Names she wished to stop hearing. Voices that cried for her name for help.

"No. Please," Vivian cried.

"I'm sorry, but I think only you can decode this, Professor. Because a similar one appeared on your apartment walls as well." Batman showed another marking made with the soot of the burned wood.

Taking a breath, Vivian faced the first photo, the one of her dead friend, and forced herself to decode the message. She asked for a pen and paper, which the Batman provided, and wrote down the message, each symbol she interpreted brought memories of her previous life that had her feeling them again. Then she turned to the next photo and she did this quickly and slammed the pen down.

Batman took the paper and read her neat handwriting:

"Blasphemous witch hiding with mortal men. You dare spread our secrets to the world just as Judas sold the Lord with silver? Your punishment will be fitting for your kind. Come from whence you hide and face the retribution of the Lord, follow the path that only your kind can find."

Batman turned to her in question, "what does this mean? What secrets did you speak?"

"I don't know -- I don't know what the fuck they're talking about!" Vivian got up, toppling her chair, and started pacing, biting her nails. Batman watched her as she tried to find something to cope with what she was feeling. And for a moment, the Dark Knight's cold exterior faltered as he saw the image of an anxious boy who never got over his grief.

He saw it the moment he met her eyes.

While she looked fine and a little nervous for the event, he knew the look of fear, grief, and anger. He could see that everyday in the mirror.

Then he heard her sob and whisper: "Please, don't touch me... please, stay away..."

But no one was touching her. It was just them in the house. Then he remembered. People like Zatanna can see beyond the living. Batman approached Vivian and took her hands, and brought his cape around her. He can't see what was haunting her, but the least he could do was give her the comfort of the living and the safety of somewhere to hide. To not be alone. He let her hide there until she stopped her cries, until she finally looked up to him and whispered she was alright.

"I'm out of practice," she began. "Something happened years ago that I can't... I just can't bear to use my magic again. And there are times when I get overwhelmed it loses control and the ghosts know when I can't ignore them and they make themselves known."

Batman nodded. "I'll inform Jim about this and try the one who wrote it."

"You know who?"

"I have a hunch. But they mentioned a path, I'll find it."

"You don't even know what path they meant."

"I can figure it out."

"Gotham is a labyrinth. Even your bat-sonar can't navigate through it. Besides, this path isn't something that someone, even the bat, would know... You need the eye of a witch to find it."

"Can't you just make a spell to let me see the path?"

Vivian chuckled. It was the first time she laughed or smiled since the incident. "Listen, Bat-brain, It's not hidden by a spell. The path is hidden in Gotham," she made a gesture for him to follow her to her bedroom as she continued to explain whilst she started to change out of her pajamas. Batman turned around to give her privacy as she changed but his eye caught the mirror in the room and he saw her. Her body. She was only wearing her underwear. For a university professor she had a lean figure, and she had a tattoo at her side starting around the level of her breast and down to her hip. A spell maybe. She was attractive as he observed her entirely, not that he did not find her beautiful at their first encounter as Bruce Wayne, but –

He quickly diverted his gaze from the mirror and focused on the lecture he was getting.

"Salem, Massachusetts wasn't the only place that had witch hunts. Gotham did too," she put on her blouse and tucked them in her tweed pants. "Since it was dangerous to have their gatherings for sabbaths and other rituals, the witches in Gotham found chambers within the walls, and they made a symbol to be their map to guide them there."

"And what are those symbols?"

Finished, she got out wearing her tweed jacket. "Have you noticed how Gotham is littered by gargoyles, Batman? I'm sure you do since that's your usual hiding place, I bet."

"Just tell me how to find the path --"

"You can't. Trust me, I tried to show someone the path but they can't."

"I'm not like everyone else."

"Hubris is what brought Icarus to his death." She then reached for her pocket and revealed a box of cigarettes. Batman frowned. "I only use it when I'm stressed. And trust me, I am."

"We're taking the Batmobile. And no smoking in the car.”

#batman #bruce wayne #fanfic #dc comics #dc universe #dc fanfic #batman x reader #dc sandman #john constantine #dc batman

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jsprnt · 1 year ago

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Healing Hearts PT. 13 | Virgil van Dijk

Would a fresh start bring you more than just a new job?

WC: 3.050

Summary: Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and allow herself to experience new things?

I walk into the kitchen, my eyes shooting up to the clock on the wall. I felt like absolute shit, my outside clothes still uncomfortably clinging onto my body from the previous night, not to forget the full face of make up I was wearing- well whatever was left that wasn't smudged on my pillowcases.

I groan as I notice it is almost noon. From the text messages I was sent early this morning by Virgil, I knew that it was several hours before he'd be done with training and until he would be in Amsterdam. I couldn't wait to finally visit him in his apartment he owned there.

I squint due to the light emitting from the widows, at least it was fall now and the sun wouldn't be this bright for long. The dark clouds already alluding to a rainy and cold day.

I realize the house is empty, with no sound or sign of my parents still being at home. It was a Tuesday, so they must've already left for work.

Thankfully, the dining table was still full of food. My stomach grumbling at the thought of having some delicious food as I grab the leftovers I had to heat up, knowing I would devour my mom's cooking in a minute.

I close my eyes and furrow my brows at the slight commotion in the front of the train. I loved and missed the Dutch transportation system, or at least it was better than other countries I had visited, but damn teenagers loved to be loud when coming back from school.

I grab the water bottle that was resting on my lap. Chugging it down, hoping it would relieve some of the pain in my head. The entire speech of "I'm never drinking again." running through my mind.

Why did we as humans love making promises to ourselves, then fall into the same cycle again? It would always baffle me over and over again.

I sigh to myself as I hear my station being announced through the train speakers, getting up and grabbing my mom's transportation card and checking out as the train stops. My medium-sized suitcase rolling behind me.

At first, I felt embarrassed of needing that many things for a couple of days at Virgil's place, but then I remembered that I was just a girl and if I needed something, I needed it.

I had thought of driving, but with this headache I didn't have the energy to, besides it wouldn't have been a hundred percent safe either.

I step out of the train, discarding the water bottle, and grabbing my phone to text Virgil for the exact address of his home. I stare at my screen for a moment as he types and-

I blink multiple times, wondering if I was hallucinating or genuinely seeing that address on my screen.

Did every man have to live in the same apartment complex? Was it really the only option the both of them had in the expensive ass city of Amsterdam? Both of them were practically swimming in money, but this was the place they both lived in?

I resist the urge to get back on the train again, walking in the same route I knew all too well. Hoping luck would be on my side today, or at least for a moment. The dark trees were slowly turning brown, the occasional leave crunching beneath my shoes.

The familiar building I called home once not even a couple years ago coming into my vision. No doubt there were some good memories attached to it, though this time being here they definitely left a bittersweet taste in my mouth.

I approach the front desk, thankfully the receptionist wasn't the same lady as in the past. That would have been quite the interaction if I would literally ask her for directions to another apartment. "Gold-digging-whore" it would not be a new insult thrown behind my back.

I look around me cautiously, the interior of the lobby was still the same. The marble and wood accents still very timeless looking, accentuating the contemporary design, taking me back to the time this entire place was way too intimidating and grand when I came here for the first time.

Sometimes I do wander how life would've been without my young naivety, but damn it was the reason I had gotten myself away from all that was negative in my life. Allowing me to form a much better and healthy work environment and new relationship. And I was grateful, immeasurably grateful.

I ask the receptionist for Virgil's place and how I would even get there, her eyebrows raising for a moment before she grabs the telephone to, what I assume, call up to him. The call is very short, and she walks away for a moment. She comes back with a key card in her hand, the biggest customer service smile on her face, as she hands me the key card.

"Is it your first name here miss?" She asks, handing the keycard to me.

"It is." I answer half lying, grabbing the card out of her hand, it looked way different than a year ago for some reason.

"Number fifty-three is the penthouse as you know, which requires you to use the elevator on the left." She points, the sickly sweet smile lingering on her lips.

Penthouse?

I felt my headache get worse, then a shooting pain through my temples.

Virgil was the penthouse owner Theo had always complained about? The one who barely lived there but still owned the most expensive place in the entire building? Theo had always complained he wanted to purchase the penthouse, but Virgil being the stubborn owner he was talking about? I don’t know if my ego should be boosted or if I should feel horrified.

I snap out of it quickly, hoping I didn't look crazy, redirecting my attention to the receptionist.

"Oh right, thank you." I say quickly, stepping away and walking towards the elevator, dragging my suitcase behind me.

The world is insanely small, practically mushed together at this point, and the fact that I could have a run in with Theo here was probably making it much worse.

I did everything to get away from him, even until recently deciding to never pick up anonymous calls again, to installing an expensive security system, but still, the universe managed to find a way for us to be in the same building, just like all those years ago was absolutely mind boggling.

I press the elevator button, hoping those numbers above wouldn't flash Theo's apartment level, fifty.

Sighing in relief as the elevator arrives empty as I quickly get on it, pressing the close button repeatedly.

I scan the key card, pressing the fifty-third button. The fancy button lighting up, as I fold my arms and lean against the elevator wall. Practically sweating at the thought of ever running into Theo. I would say this was a mistake, coming back home was a disastrous mistake. Of course, I would run into him somehow and now I'm back at the place we used to live together, the universe hated me and the urge to hate it back was never this grand before.

I feel my headache get worse at the thoughts running through my mind, this would definitely take at least five years off of my lifespan.

The elevator announcing the fifty-third level takes y/n out of her thoughts. The elevator doors swiftly opening to reveal a smiling Virgil, dressed in dark jeans and a very soft looking gray sweater.

She gasps at the sight of him, her negative thoughts melting away by a mere glimpse of his face.

She practically leaps forward, latching onto him, his warm hands coming up to steady her frame. Her suitcase nearly toppling over by how fast she'd let it go. Heat radiation off of his body, washing a warm feeling over her cold one, even when she was wearing a thick jacket.

"Hello, to you too." He mumbles, his hand coming to cradle the back of her head. His fingers playing with the fabric of the white scarf around her neck. He plants a tender kiss on her forehead as she hides her face into his chest, the dull ache in her forehead getting slightly worse. Her fingers digging into the soft fabric of his sweater.

"Missed you so much." she mutters, her muffled words barely being heard. She pulls away, taking his features in for a moment before wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing him into a longing kiss.

His lips are warm, his minty breath entangling with hers as their lips are pressed together. It felt like ages since they'd last seen each other, reality being only a couple of days. A breathless, deep groan leaving his throat as she presses her body further into him. Her fingers clawing at his arm, coming to squeeze his bicep with a tender touch.

Just like the days physically apart, the kiss feels like ages, only pulling away as y/n decides to. His lips automatically following hers to savor her taste longer. Though, he freezes at the sight of her scrunched brows and a hand on her temple, his eyes softening in concern. The breathlessness of their kiss shooting pain through her head.

"You still hangover from yesterday?" He asks, his hand coming to remove hers, instead softly massaging her temples himself.

"Yeah.." she groans, leaning into his touch with her eyes shut.

"I'm sorry." She goes, thinking that she should've greeted him with more enthusiasm and love, and no depressive, sad, stupid headache.

"It's alright, no need apologize to me." He soothes, his other hand coming to the small of her back, running his hands down her back gently.

"Let's take this jacket off and get comfy, yeah? You must've been freezing outside." He beams, kissing her temple repeatedly, wanting to transfer some of the love he felt into her pretty head.

"Here's some soup. It'll help before taking any medication." He whispers softly, removing the blanket off of his girlfriends face. The rain was clattering heavily on the windows outside, the dark clouds totally engulfing the surrounding view. She opens her eyes, blinking repeatedly before sitting up fully.

"Didn't have time to have groceries delivered, so I ordered some of the best and highest quality soup for my girl." He mutters, picking up a spoonful.

"You know I can feed myself right. I still have working arms and hands." She chuckles, trying to snatch the spoon out of his hands. He ignores her protest, urging her to take the mouthful of soup on the spoon.

"Wow- this is really nice- is this restaurant owned by another one of your beloved grandma's?" She teases, still aware of her pounding head but choosing to ignore the ache.

"Come on- no one cooks like grandma- except my own mother, obviously." He says, moving his spoon to grab another spoonful.

"Just give me the spoon already." She requests, the sass in her voice undeniable. He cocks an eyebrow, handing her the spoon without further ado.

"Okay- just wanted to take care of you miss independent." He teases back, watching her mix the soup.

"I'm fine- not incapable of drinking soup on my own. Just a headache I'll be fine after I take some medication." She retorts, humming to herself as the warm soup soothes her throat and warms her body temperature.

"Want some?"

He shakes his head, his hand adjusting some of the blanket.

"Besides, we haven't seen each other in days. I don't want this day to be ruined by you worrying about a silly headache." She says, sipping on the last bits of the soup.

"Babe-"

She cuts him off, grabbing the bottle of ibuprofen off of the table and shaking it.

"I'll take this and you'll tell me about you- things you wanted to tell me the past days or things that happened during training. Nothing about me- Deal?"

"So you had an open training today? Were there a lot of people there?" She asks, her cheeks squished against his chest as she lays against him. His arm coming to cradle her back.

"Yeah, those kids were so cute and happy to see us, it was so sweet." Her replies, looking down at her, taking in the cozy atmosphere.

He had turned on the heater a little higher, the warm blanket now wrapped around the both of them as they both relished the feeling of the soft sofa against them. The clattering of raindrops creating a calming sound that almost put them both to sleep. The sun had set already, a conformation of the seasons changing already. The soft and low melody of a song by Brent Faiyaz coming out of the TV speakers.

"So what? You showed those kids how to tackle your teammates?" She laughs, the vibrations of it connecting with the thump of his heartbeat.

"Got show them how to do it best obviously." He retorts, a chuckle escaping his plump lips.

"Are you ready for the match against France. Though opponents, no?" She asks, sitting up and lifting her head to check his facial expression.

"We've trained a lot, it all comes down to performance now." He answers, sinking his eyes into the beauty of her face, a small smile on her lips as she nods.

"Any injuries? Are you feeling alright?" She asks, her eyebrows knotting, small wrinkles forming in between them. Being on leave never made her stop worrying about the teams injuries, always texting and calling the other physio's for updates and improvements of injured players.

"I'm alright, a hundred percent. I promise." He reassures, bringing her into his chest again, kissing the top of her ear. "Stop thinking about work or anything related to it. You're on leave, you've got to enjoy it baby." He mumbles, his deep voice vibrating against her ears.

"Tell me about you. How are your parents and friends hm?"

"They're fine, working and everything keeps them busy. My friends are just happy to see me. As you know, we had girls night yesterday." She chuckles, the flashback of her drunk friends popping into her mind.

"What did you girls do? Gossip?" He wonders, a smile tugging at his lips.

"How'd you know?" She gasps, her eyes widening.

"I've been around my mom and her friends. When that conversation opens, those doors never close up." He laughs. "What did you guys talk about? Me?" He says, cocky expression on his face.

She pulls away again, guilty expression on her face. "I told them about you, yeah.."

"That's good. Why so solemn? Do they hate me?" He asks.

"No! They're okay with us- they’re just teasing me. They think it's funny I- uhm moved to Liverpool to forget you know who. Then I met you." She explains, fidgeting with her newly done nails.

"That's fate love." He replies, running his thumb on her jawline. "They like me at least- what about your parents?"

Fate was either a bitch or it was the best thing that ever could happen to you.

Her eyes widen at the mention of her parents. They didn't know she had a new boyfriend, let alone who he was. She didn't know if her parents would be happy or lose their mind if she told them she was with someone else other than her 'useful' ex. She couldn't fully blame them if they got mad, she told them a bit of how their relationship went. Nothing about him making someone break into her apartment and the rest of the things he had done. Not how he treated her- which was definitely not how she should've been treated.

"Uh.." she trails off, the heat of embarrassment climbing up to her face. Virgil raises his brows, his thumb coming to a halt, letting his hand rest on her jaw, cupping her face.

"They don't know about us." She mumbles, avoiding eye contact and looking away.

"What?"

"They don't know about us." She repeats, a little louder. The temperature drops for a moment, his hand moving her head towards him again.

"y/n? Look at me." He says, his deep voice stern, though there is a soft edge to it.

She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, then reluctantly making eye contact.

"You don't have to tell them. I understand, but you don't look- something is up. Am I right?"

She nods, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth, chewing nervously.

"They barely know about the things that happened in between me and- my ex. Not even what happened in my apartment." She breathes out.

"They still think we have a chance of getting back together. Since our parents are in the same industry- they thought, you know that they would merge their companies- umh later on." She explains, goosebumps covering her body. Nervously checking Virgil's face for a change of expression.

A sigh leaves his lips, pulling her into another hug. His arms wrapping around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry you can't be honest with your parents."

"No, don't apologize. It's my fault for not telling them everything."

"You know that they shouldn't have pushed you so far you're hiding important thing from them, right?"

She doesn't reply, basking into his body heat, her nose rubbing against the fabric of his sweater.

He sighs at her unwillingness to speak, deciding to change the topic.

"Let talk about something else- you're coming to the match on Friday, right?" He asks, hoping it would change her mood.

"Of course." She replies, fidgeting with the fabric of his sweater. "It's a very important one, you said I could invite my friends right?"

"Yeah of course, you ready to cheer me on with my shirt on, love?"

"I don't know- thought of wearing Frenkie's or Memphis' but since they're injured I guess your shirt is alright too." She teases, a smile tugging at her lips. The jealousy was evident on his face, and it was undeniably hot. His hands letting go of her, turning away from her.

"Alright- I'm just joking. I'll wear a number four- stop looking at me like that. It was a joke!"

#virgil van dijk fanfiction #virgilvandijk #virgilvandijkimagines #virgil van dijk #vandijk #liverpoolfc #football #football fanfic #football imagines #liverpoolimagines #liverpool fanfic #virgil van dijk x reader #virgil x reader #footballer x reader

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grealishy · 9 months ago

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LOVER - Jack Grealish

summary - while visiting your best friend from high school, you run into and old friend, but things aren’t the same between you two.

pairing - jack grealish x fem!reader

warnings - slight uses of profanity, mentions of alcohol cunsumption

song inspo - lover, taylor swift

word count - 2k

this is my first fic and i hope you enjoy it!

I also have to make this multiple parts, so sorry about that!

can we always be this close, forever and ever?

after four long hours from London, you had finally arrived in Manchester. You stepped off the train and headed to the arrival area to meet your friend Maddie.

You and Maddie had been best friends since primary school, but ever since you moved to London three years ago, and Maddie living in Manchester since University, you had barley seen her, although you try to make time to see each other at least once a year, however every year she had come to London. This was your first year visiting her in Manchester, and you were eager to finally see Maddie.

After walking around the pick up area for a good 10 minutes, you finally see her car. Excitement fills your body and you can't help but rush over to her with an embarrassingly huge smile. As Maddie sees you run over she gets out of her car and spreads her arms out wide.

You two meet in a hug, both not wanting to let go. It had been so long since the two of you had been together.

"MADDIE!"

"Y/N!"

"It's been forever! How are you!"

"I'm good, how are you? How was the train ride? Good?"

"Yeah, it was really good. Although the breakfast sandwich I ordered really got me through it" You said with a chuckle.

Maddie helped you with your bags and brought them to the trunk of her car. Once you both got settled in the front seat, Maddie turned the radio on and she started driving to her place.

Once you pulled into the driveway to Maddie's house, you brought your things inside, being met with barks of her little toy poodle, jasper, and the smell of apple cinnamon from a candle that was burning. It was a warm type of feel, like a warm hug.

There was a Manchester City v Liverpool game on the tv which was fitting since Maddie was a HUGE Manchester City fan. You were a Chelsea fan since living in London, but all in all, you didn't keep up with football as much as you used to when you were still in school, however when you were an avid football watcher, Manchester City was naturally your team.

"OH! Y/N! I forgot to mention, I got us tickets for a Man City v Tottenham match on Friday! Should be a good game!"

"Oh my God! Thanks Mads! I'm sure it will be"

The two of you ordered Chinese food and sat down, watching the game carefully, getting frustrated with the ref, and cheering when possession would change back to City. Just as the game was coming to an end, your food had arrived.

"ANDDDDD...... END, 2-1 CITY!! LETS GOOO!" Maddie screamed, giving you a high five.

It was like you and her were never separated.

You and Maddie spent the whole week going shopping, eating out, and watching movies.

"Y/n, did you bring your City jersey? Because if not we NEED to get you one to wear to the game. And, I mean, I could lend you one of mine, but why not use this as an accuse to get another. In fact, I'll just buy you one!"

You both make your way to the Manchester City fan store and you are met with an overwhelming amount of light blue everything. Surrounded by numbers and standard blank jerseys, you look around picking out one you would wear for the game.

"How about Haaland? He's the best on the team I'd argue. Or, oh my God, you need a Grealish jersey!"

Jack Grealish. Star football player. Midfielder for Manchester City and England's national team. Who didn't know who Jack Grealish was.

The funny thing was that he was an old classmate of Maddie and Y/n, from primary school all the way to high school.

"Very funny Mads."

"No, I'm being serious. It's not every day that your best friend, after me of course, from school becomes a professional footballer who is loved across the nation and plays for one of the best teams in England! You need his Jersey Y/n, you two used to be so close!"

You fool your eyes. It's true, the two of you were close, but you live very different lives now and it's not like you are still friends with him.

"I'll just get the Haaland jersey Mads."

"If you say so."

"NEXT!"

You and Maddie step up to check into the match, excitement flooding your body. The energy at matches were always so electric.

As you were walking towards your seats, you realize that you keep walking, getting really close to the pitch.

"here." Maddie says. You are one row from the pitch, sitting on the end of the second row.

"Maddie, what the fuck."

"What?" she says cheekily.

"These seats are insane, I mean really fucking insane"

"Only the best for the best"

You hug her and take a seat.

Before you know it kick off is happening and the game starts. The stadium is rumbling from cheers of mainly Man City fans, and the energy is something that is like a drug. You catch a sort of high from the pure adrenaline.

The game stops for half-time and you are excited to see the players walk by as your seats are right near the tunnel to the locker rooms.

As the players walk by you are met with a familiar face.

It is none other than Mr. Jack Grealish. You make eye contact with him as he walks by. You don't think anything of it, until he does a double take and smiles widely. But that was just a friendly smile, right?

Was that? Can't be... Unless.. No, she lives in London... But it looked just like her...

"GREALISH! ARE YOU LISTENING BOY?! WE ARE DOWN ONE-NIL, FOCUS UP DAMMIT" Pep yells.

Pep finishes giving his speech, which was honestly more like screaming at the squad until they feel threatened enough to make a difference in their game, and Jack is eager to get back on the pitch, especially seeing a girl that looked a little too similar too his childhood best friend.

The boys run back onto the pitch, and Jack makes a point to look closely at the girl. Although she was preoccupied at admiring Tottenham's Son who was already on the field, Jack could tell that the girl was definitely his old friend, however he noticed that she had a sparkle to her, something he had never noticed before, or something she gained while in London. Whatever it was about her, Jack could tell that she was still the same. Same best friend, same hair, same style, and even the same winter coat. It was intriguing.

The final whistle blew, indicating the match was over. Cheer erupted in Etihad Stadium. Both you and Maddie snuggling together as you clapped and cheered.

Just as the two of you were about to leave you heard you name being called.

"Y/n! Y/l/n!"

You looked around to see Jack Grealish coming over to you. The surrounding fans tried getting the Midfielders attention, but he was only concerned with you.

"Hey, Y/n! It's Jack!"

You smiled at his recognition of you.

"I know. How are you Mr. Grealish? Great game today!"

He smile warmly at your slight teasing tone. You felt like you were talking to a close friend of yours, not a Manchester City player., even though technically, it was a friend.

"How about you meet me at The Pen and Pencil after for a drink, you too Maddie."

You agreed and said your goodbyes as he ran back to his team.

"Well would you look at that. Looks to me that double trouble is back"

"Shove off Maddie" You chuckled.

As you pulled up to the pub your stomach starts to turn. Yes, Jack was an old friend, yes, you two were extremely close, but he also looked more mature and handsome than he ever had before and you found yourself a little attracted to him. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen him in a while, or maybe it was because he was in his football kit that fit him ever so perfectly. Regardless of attraction, you were in Manchester to have a good time with your best friend and to let loose.

"Ay, you made it" Jack said as he noticed you walking through the door. He comes over to give you and Maddie little hugs.

"Can I get you a drink, it's on me of course!

"I'll take a Cider"

The three of you catch up, sort of getting to know each other all over again. It was a natural conversation, no awkwardness or silence. It was truly like high school days again.

within the next hour, Maddie was off with some guy flirting, leaving you and Jack by the bar, still talking.

"So, how's life in London. I feel like that should have been the first this I asked, but y'know, I got sidetracked with other topic of conversation."

"No, it's alright. And, I love it. I've been there for about three years now. Don't get me wrong, I really miss Birmingham, but there is just something about London that I am so drawn to, and I have never looked back since moving. I just feel at home there, y'know?"

"Yeah I feel the same way here in Manchester"

It was nearing 2 in the morning and you were getting tired, especially since you and Maddie had stayed up late the night before.

"I think I'm gonna find Maddie, I'm getting pretty tired."

"Alright then, I see you on your way out?"

You nodded and headed to find Maddie.

After searching for a solid 15 minutes you couldn't find her. It was a relatively small pub, but trying to find someone in a dark crowded pub was not the easiest. You soon came to the conclusion that Maddie wasn't here. You open your phone to see a text from her.

Maddie: Hey girl! So I met this cute guy and we are going out to this other pub. I was trying to give you the car keys so you could drive since I know you were only having one drink, but I couldn't find you. Anyways, I'll pay you back for a cab since I know you'll need one. The garage code is 1234. Sorry, luv u

crap.

"Find her?"

"She actually left.."

"Oh damn. You need a ride? I was thinking of leaving anyways, I could just drive you."

"You sure? I can always get a cab or an uber."

"No need to waste money, I can drive you, I only had one drink so I'll be fine."

Jack closed his tab and you both left the pub, getting into his car which was parked out front.

You were fighting the urge to fall asleep in the car, but your tiredness took over, and before you knew it you were at Maddies place, and Jack was waking you up.

"Hey, Y/n. We're here." He says as he nudges you awake.

"Oh, God, sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep"

You get out of the car and straighten out your clothes before shutting the car door.

"Thanks Jack. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime. Before I leave though, how long are you staying in Manchester?"

"Um, I think a week more? Why"

"Here, give me your number, I want to hang out with you again before you go back to London."

You exchange numbers and Jack get back in his car to leave. He rolls the window down and gives you a wink before driving off.

You had just gotten changed and grabbed a granola bar and were just about to turn your light off to go to bed when your phone dings.

(0161)111-1111: Hey, it's Jack. You busy tomorrow afternoon? Was thinking we could go to this one local restaurant that is the BEST. What do you think?

PART 2 (coming soon)...

#jack grealish #manchester city #man city #premier league #jack grealish x reader #jack grealish fanfic #jack grealish imagine

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dongfuck · 2 years ago

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Mistletoe - n.jm

pairing: crush!jaemin x fem!reader

genre: fluff (yes, no smut. sorry not sorry)

wc: 2k

note: try to guess what netflix movie this was HIGHLY inspired by after you’ve finished reading it ;)

taglist: @smuchsmut , @jenojammin , @goquokka , @nctgirlok297 , @johnniverse , @matchahyuck , @220513080208 , @ablackbtsstan , @jwinm , @tyongspice1

Jaemin was your best friend. He has been since the first day of middle school. You know everything about him and he knows everything about you too. But what he doesn’t know is that you have a huge crush on him. You’ve always thought of confessing to him but you were afraid that it will ruin the relationship you have with him so you decided not to. You were being so obvious but he doesn’t seem to pay any attention to the way you were behaving and you felt the utmost furious about it.

You know he only sees you as a friend and nothing more but you can’t help but hope that he has the slightest bit of attraction towards you. It was Christmas and you were invited to a small Christmas party at Buckley’s Lodge. The place was highly to your liking. It wasn’t modern nor was it high-tech like what most people preferred nowadays, but it was rather cozy and simple and you always feel at home whenever you visited the lodge. Oh and did I mention that Buckley’s Lodge is owned by one of your closest friends? Haechan got married a few years back with a lovely girl he met when he was studying in London. Her name is Noelle Buckley and she is the absolute kindest girl you’ve ever met in your whole life.

Long story short, after they got married, Noelle’s father, Thomas Buckley gave the lodge to his one and only son-in-law knowing that he would take good care of it. Now, you might be wondering, are you really going to fly all the way from Korea to London just for dinner? Technically, no. You and Jaemin agreed to further your studies in Liverpool so it was merely a five hour distance if you take the train. Jaemin had let you know that he would be picking you up at around four and it was currently three-forty. There is approximately twenty minutes until Jaemin arrives and you know how sensitive he can be about time.

Exactly twenty minutes later, you heard your doorbell ringing and you knew it was Jaemin. The moment you opened the door, you were astounded. He looked exquisitely handsome in the black suit he was wearing. It was simple and plain, yet ravishing and classy. “You going to a dinner or a wedding?” you commented as you locked the door to your apartment. Walking out of the building, Jaemin himself judged your appearance. “Same goes to you. You look like you’re about to walk the aisle.” He snorted. To be honest, you weren’t wearing anything too extravagant. You chose to wear a long-sleeved plain satin white dress that reached just slightly under your knee with some pearl jewellery. Jaemin’s hair was neatly gelled to one side whilst yours was perfectly curled and adorned with some hair decorative that complimented your dress.

“It would’ve been favourable if you’d complimented my look. I took my time picking this outfit, you know.” you said playfully. “You look beautiful.” he praised. “And you’re quite the looker yourself, Na Jaemin.” laughing it off, you and Jaemin entered his car before driving off to the airport. Yes, you guys settled on taking a flight since it would be faster and more convenient. Though, you should’ve though of getting dressed in London ‘cause now everyone’s gonna look at you and think that you’re some newly-wed couple going on an immediate honeymoon. Besides, your clothes would get all wrinkled. But it’s a one hour flight. Hopefully everything goes smoothly.

An hour passed and Jaemin had woken you up from your slumber. The moment you woke up, you immediately looked for wrinkles on your dress, releasing a relieved sigh when you spotted none. “Well someone looks horrible.” Jaemin snorted in your face. “Dick!” you frantically searched for your hand mirror in your bag before checking your reflection on it. You hair was a mess! After getting off of the plane, you stopped by one of the restrooms to fix your hair. Thank god your curls weren’t ruined. Stepping out of the ladies’, you spotted Jaemin leaning against a wall looking like an awfully good looking bachelor.

You looked at your wristwatch and saw that it was already fifteen minutes into six so you harshly slapped Jaemin’s arm to indirectly tell him to hurry up. Of course, he would never get the hint. “Ow! What was that for” he rubbed the ache in his left arm and cringed at the pain as you groaned in annoyance. “Hurry up, the party starts at seven!” you pulled Jaemin out of the airport before calling a taxi.

The drive to Buckley’s Lodge took almost an hour and but the time you reached the place, it was seven twenty-two. You entered the lodge and the first thing you catch sight of was Mark Lee accompanied by his cousin, Jeno Lee. “Mark! Jen! How are you guys?” Jaemin instantly pulled them into a bro-hug as they chatted. “I see Y/n’s your date?” you heard you name being mentioned by Jeno. “They’re always together, the fuck you mean?” Mark nudged his cousin’s shoulder. “I know, I know.” Jeno rolled his eyes playfully at Mark before a small chuckle was heard from Jaemin. “Have you guys seen Haechan?” he asked and looked at them expectantly.

Mark seemed to be recalling where he last saw Haechan which he then replied with, “He was by the sweets a second ago.” Yeah, you definitely know where the sweets are. Thanks a lot, Mark. “The sweets are at the lounge.” Jeno smiled at you dashingly as if he could read your mind. “Thank you, Jeno.” you returned his smile. “Okay, lovebirds, I’m cold. Let’s sit by the fire, Jen.” Mark wrapped his arm around Jeno’s shoulder and urged him to walk but Jeno stood his ground to let you know, “You look stunning tonight, Y/n.” before walking away with a smile.

You felt your cheeks slightly heat up at the compliment and the corners of your lips slowly curled up into a small smile. “Oh God, don’t tell me you actually liked his compliment.” Jaemin rolled his eyes at you. “And what if I did? It was decent. Why? You jealous?” you smirked slightly. “You can suck my dick.” and with that he stormed off to look for Haechan. Jeez, who hurt him? Tailing behind Jaemin, you spotted Haechan talking to one of the guests before his eyes landed on the two of you. “Jaemin! Y/n! It’s been a while!” he engulfed the both of you in a tight hug as he eyed you guys with adoration. “How’d you guys get here from so far?” Haechan questioned.

“Oh it wasn’t that far.”

“We took the plane.”

You made eye contact with Jaemin and squinted your eyes at him. “I see, I see. Why didn’t you tell me you were taking the plane? I really could’ve paid for the flight ticket.” said Haechan. “Oh, it’s fine. It really wasn’t that expensive.” Nope. It was. “Then at least let me pay for your flight back.” he insisted. “No it’s ok—” you were cut off by Jaemin’s annoying voice (no offence Jaem). “I mean, if you insist.” He shrugged before you hit his right shoulder. “Ow! Why do you keep hitting me?” he winced in pain as Haechan laughed at the interaction.

“Some things never change.”

Slow music played in the background as you looked at the few people dancing in front of you. You moved your head to the rhythm of the music and can’t help but smile softly at the situation you were in ; side by side with Jaemin along with a glass of Rosé as music filled your ears. The lodge was almost empty now considering it has gotten a bit late and the only ones left were close friends. Nothing could feel better than this. Or so you thought. “You wanna take a walk?” Jaemin whispered softly to you. “Yeah, sure.” you took the coat that Noelle had lend to you before walking out the lodge with your best friend.

Your footsteps littered the snowy ground as the crunch of your steps filled your ears. “It’s a cold night, isn’t it?” Jaemin commented with his hands in his pockets. “Well I mean, it is snowing.” you giggled softly. “Oh shut up.” Jaemin himself couldn’t help but laugh along with you. You spotted a bench next to a lamp post and decided to sit on it. Buckley’s Lodge is located at the very top of a mountain and is a perfect stop for skiing trips so you could almost see everything from here.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a hand on yours. It wasn’t too common for the two of you to be holding hands but tonight felt a tad bit different. “Y/n.” he called for you quietly to which you hummed as a response. “Look at me.” he said. Carefully, you turned your head to face him before waiting for his next word. “To be completely honest with you, We’ve been best friends for quite the amount of time now and I just think you’re absolutely perfect just the way you are. No matter how annoying you can be at times, you’re still the one I adore the most. So what I’m trying to say tonight is that… I’ve fell for you, Y/n. Harder than ever and I can’t help but feel slightly jealous when you swoon over other guys. I-I just felt like I had to get this off my chest before it’s too late.” Jaemin released a breath of relief as he looked at your intertwined hands.

“Fuck— I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Jaemin.” you chucked seeing him in this state. “It’s fine.” you held his hand tighter in your hold as he met your eyes. “And as a response to your heart-felt confession, look what I brought.” you held your free hand out for him just to show the mistletoe with a red ribbon in the palm of your hand. “I found it on the way here.” Handing the object to him, he took it without hesitation before staring into your eyes for confirmation. “You know what to do.” you urged him to continue. He seemed nervous at first but when you planted a small peck to his lips, he was surely taken aback but also more confident.

Biting back a grin, Jaemin lifted the mistletoe and held it just above your heads with his left hand. “You surely are one of a kind.” he leaned forward to close the gap between the two of you before his lips finally landed on yours. He released his hand from your grip gently and moved it to the dip of your waist and pulling you in deeper. Smiling into the kiss, you took your right hand and placed it just over his shoulder to keep balance. Just then, you felt something drop on your head. Pulling away from the kiss, you saw Jaemin picking up the mistletoe that fell from his grip with a nervous smile. “Oops, sorry.” he laughed awkwardly.

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at the way he was acting. This really is the man you love. “What’s so funny?” he furrowed his brows playfully at you. “Nothing, just, Merry Christmas, Jaemin.” you said with a smile. Returning the smile, he replied with a giddy voice. “Merry Christmas, Y/n.” As the moon lit the white night, you couldn’t help but wonder what challenges you’d have to go through during this journey of bumpy roads but one thing you were sure of is that you were doing it with Jaemin, and Jaemin only.

And to wrap it all up, that is how your story begins.

definitely more on the simpler side of my works but i did enjoy writing this so i hope you enjoyed reading this too. and don’t worryyy jaemin’s the only one without some filth :)

#once a year by dongfuck #nct imagines #nct dream #nct 127 #jaemin #jaemin fluff #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fanfic

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