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redroomreflections · 4 months ago

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Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story Chapter 4

Natasha Romanoff x Black!Fem! Reader

Note: This is a repost from my since deactivated account Natsxaddiction. I will be adding the shorter stories to here; 20 chapters or less - sorry TLH fans =(

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Chapter 4/20 (A completed story)

Summary: Natasha and Reader are married. They get into an accident where Natasha suffers serious injuries including amnesia. Natasha no longer remembers her life with reader and their children. All she remembers are her days loving Bruce.

W/c: 3.2k

“Is Olivia still sleeping?” You ask as you look to the open doorway.

“She is,” Natasha answers simply. She stands with her arms folded and her legs shoulder-width apart. Nothing about her body language is welcoming or loving. She’s uncomfortable with you. You know Natasha so well and she’s prepared herself for a fight. As if you’d take it that far. Not after all this time.

“Do you want to sit?” You know you’re stalling. It’s stupid. You’re nervous to tell your wife about how you met. You’ve both gone over that day plenty of times. It’s nothing new. Natasha doesn’t respond. “We, um, our meeting wasn’t exactly the best. I guess you can gather that. Who told you? Tony? Steve?”

“Bruce,” Natasha supplies simply and she can see the slight confusion on your face. “I called him earlier. I figured he wouldn’t lie to me. Would get straight to the truth.”

“And he told you to ask me, right?” You conclude and she tilts her chin slightly. “I was raised by Hydra.” You begin slowly. You don’t even look to see Natasha’s face. Reliving all of the painful memories of your childhood is never easy. “I wasn’t. I don’t know much about the entire process. My father was a scientist working for Strucker. They had been planning and doing experiments for years. I grew up in the lab. My mother, god knows where she is, but I didn’t really mind. I was always excited to go to work with my dad. The experiments were innocent at first. Started with me standing in the same room as the scepter. Then things progressed.” You shake your head. “My father died and by then I was old enough to make my own decisions. Wanda and Pietro, the twins, were fifteen when they decided to join. I stayed to keep them safe.” You look over to Natasha to make sure she’s still listening. “I’m not telling you this to pity me but I just think you need to understand the magnitude of what we were dealing with. What we all went through at the hands of that man. Things should have been different.” You whisper to yourself.

“Anyway, I was loyal to my brother and sister,” You speak with a bit of defiance. “I couldn’t just leave them. After so many years of brainwashing and…” You don’t finish. You think she of all people would understand. “We were doing what we thought was right. I remained in the shadows. Up until a few years ago, I didn’t exist in the world. I was just another lost kid. So, we had the twins approach the Avengers first. Anything to get to Tony Stark. Wanda can slip into people’s minds and make them see their worst fear. We just needed to figure out what those were. Now she doesn’t need to do that but then,” You realize you may be rambling and that none of this may make sense to her. You lick your lips, finding your mouth to be dry, as you continue telling the story. Your story. “Do you, um, do you remember Morocco? Just a year before Ultron.”

Natasha’s eyes widen in horror. She remembers that night like the back of her hand. She’s always remembered it and played it over and over again in her head. The night she fell in love with a stranger. A woman she danced with well into the night. A woman that she stupidly let her guard down with only to wake up in the morning to an empty bed. The only thing she kept was the memory of that woman and how she made her feel. That and a tiny scar just below her…

Natasha doesn’t even give you time to react before she grabs your chin to turn your head. Sure enough there it is. The scar she remembers oh so well. It’s placed low on your right cheek. Something she thought was a birthmark up until now.

“That was you?” Natasha’s grip tightens for only a second. She can’t believe what she’s seeing. After all this time. All these years making up different reasons you left in her head. Sometimes she thought she imagined it. Other times she couldn’t stop thinking about that woman. About you. Now you’re standing here before her telling her it was all a scheme to get close to her. You can’t read the expression on her face and that terrifies you. She drops her hand, searching your eyes for something you’re not sure of before she backs away. “H-how does any of that make sense? I don’t understand. Was that in your plan? To fuck me and get information out of me? Are you really that deluded?” Natasha can’t wrap her head around what she’s being told.

“It worked. It was the only way to learn your fears,” You respond with a shaky voice. “I, we, I didn’t plan to sleep with you. I was supposed to befriend you and that was it. You were the one to invite me back to your hotel.”

“That makes it so much better,” She says sarcastically.

“I was supposed to dance with you and drug you and Wanda was supposed to come in and slip into your mind,” You confess. “When I met you it was different. You were different. It was nothing like I imagined. For that one night, I felt something and I went against my orders to be with you, and I- just…”

The stakes were high. You had Natasha, the infamous Black Widow right where you wanted her. You had to think quickly on your feet. You had to do something. Anything to get her to trust you.

“You what? Fell in love?”

“It was the first time I’d ever been with anyone. It was completely my choice,” You confirm. “I had you right where I wanted you and I took what I could. I used that information so Wanda could get into your head. Same with Thor and same with Tony, and Bruce, and Steve.”

“And you slept with them too?” Natasha’s hand twitches.

“No,” You shake your head. “Only you. It’s always been only you.”

“And after Ultron? You saw me and thought what? That it would be a happy reunion. Did you not feel anything?” Natasha doesn’t know whether she wants to puke or cry or fight. Everything she’s known has been a lie and she allowed it. She let herself slip for one night only to realize it all was a farce. She was a pawn in some game she wasn’t even playing. How could she trust you after this?

“Did you feel anything when you were a Widow?” You ask rhetorically. You already know the answer to that. Natasha’s been on missions much like the one you did plenty of times.

“Don’t spin this on me,” Natasha raises a finger, poking you in your chest, her eyes showing no sign of recognition. “I was…” She can’t find the words she wants to use. She doesn’t have any excuses for her life either. Not that she owes one to you.

“When we met for a second time, during Ultron, we almost killed each other.” You keep going. “You recognized me immediately. I didn’t want to fight but it’s what I had to do. We almost killed each other.”

“What stopped me?” Natasha questions.

“Love,” You answer quietly. “I know it sounds horrible but I couldn’t hurt you. When we realized what Ultron was doing we changed our minds and we fought with you. We lost Pietro and it all seemed like the world was ending at once. We became Avengers and moved into the compound.”

“Unbelievable,” Natasha scoffs. “So, you’ve been painting our marriage as this perfect thing this entire time when it’s been based on nothing but lies? I married a liar. How do you live with yourself? Are you lying about the girls too? Did you take them from their mother? How do I know you’re not lying to them? How can I trust you with them.”

“Natasha, that’s not fair,” You become emotional. You would never do anything to hurt any of your family. As messy as your past is you have always worked towards righting your wrongs.

“What’s not fair is I have no memories after an accident that could have been caused by my lying, manipulative wife,” Natasha snaps. “And I’m here with you. Not understanding any of this and you tell me we’re happy and I don’t know how to believe you.”

“Natasha,” You take a step towards her but she’s fast and before you even know what she’s doing she has a knife pointed towards your throat. Your shield, a light purple, is the only thing keeping it from touching you. You don’t care when she’s looking at you that way. As if you killed her puppy. Natasha backs away, not giving you another glance, as she leaves to lock herself in the guest bedroom. Truth be told, you assumed she would have left the house entirely. You think the only reason she’s staying is for the girls and even then you feel that’s a bit shaky.

You don’t give yourself room to breathe, letting your shield down, as you reach for the bed blindly. The tears in your eyes blur your vision as you plop onto the mattress.

That went well.

**********************

Inside the guest room, Natasha is going through a myriad of emotions. She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of this situation. Out of the scenarios she played in her head she didn’t think this would be one of them. With the pocket knife still in her hand, she flips it over many times. Realizing the severity of what she almost did, she drops it onto the mattress beside her. How could any of this be true?

You’ve been in her life for even longer than she thought and she’s not sure she likes the idea of that. This is all too much for her to handle. She wants to run. She could do it. You probably wouldn’t stop her she thinks. Another part of her is curiosity. If the old her could get past it and forgive you what makes this different? In all of your interactions for the past few days, you’ve been nothing but genuine and gentle with her. How was she supposed to compartmentalize all of that? Your love was built on lies, pain, and everything Natasha told herself she wouldn’t do. When she was younger and allowed herself to think about having a family, which wasn’t often, she imagined healthy love. Someone who understands her and doesn’t care about her past. A person she could be completely herself with.

Was that you?

For now, she doesn’t know the answer to that question and she’s not ready to question anymore. She’s had enough of her past today. She lies on the bed, parallel to your position in the other room, as she replays what just happened in her head.

Natasha doesn’t come out of the bedroom for the rest of the night. When you find Olivia curled into her you don’t disturb them. You close the door behind them and go back down into your bedroom to make a call.

You hold the phone to your ear, breathing harshly, as you wait for an answer. Wanda picks up after the second ring. She speaks a bright Sokovian greeting but quickly changes her tune when she realizes it’s you.

“Y/n, is everything okay?” Wanda asks. She’s patient as she waits for you to gather yourself. You feel like your heart has been ripped out of your chest and haphazardly thrown back into your body.

“No,” You finally speak. “I told Natasha.”

Wanda asks knowingly. “I take it she didn’t receive things too well.”

“Not at all,” You wipe your face free of the tears running down your face. “Wanda, how am I supposed to do this? Maybe I’m way in over my head. It’s only been a few days but I’ve already managed to make her hate me.”

“I don’t think Natasha has it in her to hate you,” Wanda replies.

“This isn’t our Natasha, Wands.” You sigh. “She’s different. Combative.”

“I remember a time when you were the same way.” Wanda reminds you. “When we first joined Hydra you weren’t exactly the nicest to us.”

“I had to make sure you weren’t trying to kill me in my sleep,” You say. “You were strangers.”

“My point,” Wanda shakes her head. “I’m not saying it will be easy but stick around for her a little longer. She’s going through a rough time too. Would you take it well if everything you’ve known is different or changed?”

“No,” You grumble.

“Then have patience,” Wanda encourages. “Don’t let her walk all over you. You’re supposed to be the top.”

“Not funny,” You roll your eyes.

“I’m sorry, sestra.” Wanda giggles to herself. “I do think you should give her a chance.”

“Who made you the big sister?” You ask in annoyance.

“Sometimes it’s okay for the little sister to take over,” Wanda reminds you. “Come here tomorrow. Have lunch with us. I will make you something special. The girls can come to play and I can see you.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” You agree. “I can’t promise there won’t be tears.”

“From you or the girls?” Wanda jokes.

“Both,” You shoot back. “Do you have to hang up?” You ask as you look at the time. It’s getting pretty late.

“I can stay on the phone,” Wanda promises. “I was going to play a little guitar out on the balcony. Will that bother you?” She’s such a good sister. You don’t know what you’d do without her.

“No, go ahead.” You climb under the covers, propping the phone up next to you, as you drift off to sleep. Wanda’s soft playing and your exhaustion from the day allow you to fall asleep fairly quickly. Hopefully, tomorrow would be better.

***************************

It’s the next morning and Natasha is awakened by the sound of crying. She sits up, resting on her elbows, to see Olivia is still sound asleep beside her. There’s a sliver of light peeking from her curtains so she can deduce that it’s early morning. How long was she asleep? She pushes the covers back to go and investigate. She follows the sound of noise down to the girl’s bedroom. She finds Lily standing up in her crib, rubbing her eyes, as she calls out for both of you.

“Hi, sweet girl,” Natasha coos, signing hello, as she comes to stand closer to the crib. She looks over the bonnet on Lily’s head, finding it to be interesting before she looks down at Lily’s wide eyes.

“Up,” Lily begs and Natasha obliges. She scoops the little girl into her arms, feeling her bottom for a wet diaper before she walks over to the changing table.

“I know that was pretty uncomfortable huh,” Natasha speaks to her as she changes her diaper quickly. She has a bit of difficulty changing out of her onesie though this doesn’t deter her. She changes Lily’s diaper, deciding to dress her in a different outfit before she looks around the nursery. She hasn’t been in this room yet. It’s well done. The walls are muted pink with a rose gold decal. The dresser in the far corner of the room is white with rose-gold handles. There’s a rocking chair in another corner. Olivia’s bed, shaped like a proper princess’s bed is on the other side while Lily’s crib takes over the other side of the room. There’s a bookshelf full of children’s books. A baby monitor with a camera attached to Lily’s crib. Everything looked so well done and normal. Did you choose the decorations together?

“Ears?” Lily questions and Natasha is reminded of her cochlear implants.

“You don’t wear these at night? I guess that makes sense,” Natasha says as she attempts to put them on. It takes a few tries but eventually, she gets it right. Lily signs “on” giving Natasha a proud smile as they stand together in her bedroom. “Would you like breakfast?” Natasha asks.

“Food?” Lily tilts her head while rubbing her tummy. She sure could eat right now. “Mommy?” Lily asks. She’s looking for you.

“She’s probably still asleep. For now, you have me kid,” Natasha carries Lily down to the first floor. Despite the slight pain in her ribs, she feels a bit better. She’s not supposed to be carrying Lily but she’d be damned if she misses out on this very important thing. She would carry her baby forever if need be. She places Lily in her high chair, before walking over to the fridge to get breakfast.

“Go!Go!” Lily points excitedly. Natasha follows her line of sight to see a box of Yoplait Gogurt sitting on one of the shelves. She takes her time opening it before giving it to Lily. The toddler gulps it down as she watches Natasha. Natasha makes quick work of fixing a bowl of oatmeal. She helps to feed the toddler, finding that Lily is truly a happy baby, as she smiles through the entire meal.

Natasha is enjoying her morning breakfast when she hears footsteps coming down onto the first floor. She spots curls first before Olivia catapults herself into her lap.

“Olivia Jane, be careful,” You warn her as she jumps into Natasha’s arms.

“She’s fine,” Natasha rolls her eyes and you’re not sure exactly how to respond to that. So you ignore it. You walk over to the Keurig, finding your desired flavor, before turning the machine on. You greet Lily with a bunch of kisses to her face, almost turning to kiss Natasha too before you stop yourself. For a second you forgot.

“Mama, I slept in the bed with you,” Olivia reminds Natasha. “I didn’t kick you this time right?” Olivia questions as a bowl of warm oatmeal are placed in front of her. For her bowl, you cut up fruit to place inside.

“No you were a perfect angel,” Natasha assures her.

‘Why you didn’t sleep with Mommy again?” Olivia asks and neither of you knows how to answer that.

“Since Mama is still hurt we decided she needed a bed to herself,” You answer. Hopefully, that would make sense to a three-year-old.

“Oh,” Oliva nods in understanding.

“It’s too easy for you,” Natasha mumbles and you don’t bother to ask her what she means.

“What do you guys think about going to see Aunt Wanda today?” You ask instead.

“I go!” Lily grins. She loves Aunt Wanda and so does Olivia.

“Me too,” Olivia eats from her spoon. She manages to keep all of the oatmeal in her mouth and off the table this time around.

“Your sister?” Natasha questions. “Do you think that’s best?”

“Natasha, the girls have been around my sister from the day we brought them home,” You sigh. You pour yourself a cup of coffee, fixing it to your liking, before taking a small sip. Despite you feeling slightly threatened by her yesterday, you’re a tiny bit more optimistic today. She stepped foot outside of her room so you’re choosing to take that as a good sign. “If you don’t think it’s safe you’re more than welcome to come. Everyone lives about an hour away at the compound.”

“I think I will,” Natasha nods.

This should be fun.

----> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you

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umlewis · 3 months ago

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Lewis Hamilton Champions F1 Return To Africa, Says Sport Can't 'Ignore' Continent

Formula One's summer shutdown is a fourteen day period for the paddock to recharge. Some visit family, others go to the beach with their friends. Lewis Hamilton started his break similarly, visiting his family in Turkey before devoting part of his break to traveling through Africa. He tried to maximize his time there, he said, going "straight from the airport into activities, history museums and just cultural experiences in each of the different countries I went to." Hamilton stopped in Morocco first and later visited Senegal and Gorée Island off the coast of its capital city, Dakar, which served as a prominent French slave trade base until 1848. Further into the trip, Hamilton met refugees at the Maratane Refugee Settlement in northern Mozambique, a country that's home to more than 33,000 refugees (predominantly from the Democratic Republic of Congo, Burundi and Rwanda), according to the UNHCR. "There's so much to take from it," Hamilton said Thursday in Zandvoort, Netherlands, ahead of the Dutch Grand Prix weekend. "I'm still digesting the trip and going to a refugee camp and seeing the work being done there and how people are displaced." Hamilton shared how "it's one thing reading about it and seeing it on the news, but actually seeing it and speaking to kids who have ten kilometers to get to school to have an education and then ten kilometers back and not having school meals, not able to eat during the day." He said children and women seemed most affected and that he noticed not many men were around the camp "because they're either killed or taken in different conflict areas." That was really heavy to see and experience, and then in Senegal and seeing the slave areas just to see what the country has been through, and it's such a beautiful place. Through all those experience, it's adding to my compass of what I want to do going forward." These experiences got his mind working, he said at Zandvoort. "It's great to see organizations doing amazing work, and what can I do to get on board? How can I help?"

Conversations continue to arise around bringing F1 back to Africa, which hasn't had a grand prix since 1993 and is the only continent (aside from Antartica) that doesn't have a race. Rwanda is one location, and Hamilton said Thursday that he has "been doing a lot of work in the background and spoken to people in Rwanda and South Africa." The current Concorde Agreement allows for 25 races a year, and F1 continues to expand the calendar, recently adding two more grands prix in the United States (Miami in 2022 and Las Vegas in 2023). The Mercedes driver said that the current reason for not competing in Africa is because a track isn't ready; however, as Hamilton pointed out, "there is at least one track that's ready" - Kyalami in South Africa, where the 1993 race was held. "We can't be adding races in other locations and continue to ignore Africa, which the rest of the world takes from. No one gives anything to Africa," Hamilton said. "There's a huge amount of work there that needs to be done. I think a lot of the world that haven't been there don't realize how beautiful the place is and how vast it is. I think having a grand prix there would really be able to highlight how great the place is and bring in tourism and all sorts of things, so why are we not on that continent?"

With or without you: Hamilton prepares for life after Bono

Ahead of this weekend's race at Zandvoort, Mercedes confirmed that Pete Bonnington, Hamilton's long-serving race engineer, had been promoted into a new role as head of race engineering at the team. By committing his future to Mercedes, Bonnington-known as Bono -put an end to suggestions that he could follow Hamilton to Ferrari for next year. He will remain Hamilton's race engineer through the rest of the 2024 season and will continue to engineer one of the Mercedes drivers next year. Asked by The Athletic about Bonnington's decision, Hamilton said he "would have loved to have continued with Bono" next year, saying he was "like a brother." The pair have worked together for six of Hamilton's seven world championships, making Bonnington the longest-serving engineer in the Mercedes driver's seventeen year F1 career. Hamilton said he was "really, really, really happy" for Bonnington and understood why it would be difficult for him to also move to Ferrari. "I knew it would be an unlikely scenario that he would go with me because it's such a drastic change within his life," Hamilton said. "But I'm really happy the team have acknowledged and made changes so he can grow more with it. I think he'll now be able to show even more of the great things that he's been doing. But either way, we're going to be family forever. We've spoken about it. We just want to make sure we finish on a high." Hamilton will not learn the identity of his new race engineer at Ferrari until January, when he officially starts on the team, which he admitted was "tough." "That makes it really difficult," Hamilton said. "I think it's probably the same for anyone moving into a new office. It's not until you go. It'll be very heavy-loaded at the start of next year."

#lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #dutch gp 2024 #fic ref #fic ref 2024 #netherlands #netherlands 2024 #netherlands 2024 thursday #peter bonnington #tw racism #tw slavery

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lucy90712 · 2 years ago

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Insecure- Pablo Gavi

A/n: hey all this if my first Gavi fic if you have any requests for him or Pedri feel free to send them to me

Wc: 1600 There is no way to escape the news it's every Instagram, Twitter, the actual news and even texts from my friends. No one will let me forget about the fact that literal the princess of Spain has a crush on my boyfriend. I'm used to people having a crush on Gavi because I mean look at him but usually it's just random people not the princess of Spain. I have tried my hardest to not let it bother me as I know Pablo will think I'm being stupid but it's so hard when everyone is talking about how the two of them could end up dating and what that would mean for his football career and whatever else.

I had managed to sort my head out and convince myself that if Pablo didn't love me he would have broken up with me but when I woke up today to find out that the king had been to visit the squad and gotten Pablo to sign a shirt for his daughter all my worries came back. The more videos that came out the more insecure I felt as he had such a big smile on his face signing the shirt and taking a photo with the king. All of this isn't helped by the fact that he's in Qatar while I'm still back home in Barcelona as we don't get to talk as often because of the time difference and our schedules. Not getting much time to talk means I never bring up my worries as I don't want to waste the time we get to call on what is definitely me being stupid.

Despite all of this I'm still excited as I'm actually going out to Qatar to watch the next game which Pablo doesn't know about so I get to surprise him after the game. We haven't seen each other in ages as of course he's been at the World Cup and even before that we were both so busy we didn't get to see each other so it's probably been about a month since I've seen him in person. The only person that knows I'm coming is Pedri as I told him so that he could help me organise everything as I have no idea where the best place to stay is and I know you can't get tickets so last minute but he helped me with all of that. Having to hide my plans has been difficult as all I want to do is tell Pablo that I will be there especially when he says he wants me to see him play but I've stopped myself from telling him as I hope he'll like the surprise.

There was a a lot of delays on my flight as the plane was late to board so then we arrived into Qatar late and then it took ages to get my bags so my schedule has been thrown out the window as I need to drop my bags at the hotel and head straight to the stadium to make it for the start of the game. Of course there is a whole load of traffic but luckily once I made it to the hotel I could walk to the stadium so I grabbed my bag and sprinted to the stadium and just about made it before kickoff. There was no time to catch my breath as the match had started and it was already pretty tense as this game determines whether the team make it out of the group stages.

It was very tense the entire game as at times they were going out and others they were top of the group and then they were second. The guys were trying so hard to score another goal but Japan were playing really well and just not letting it happen. Pablo was subbed at 68 minutes which I could tell he wasn't too happy about but he still sat and watched the team for the rest of the game. The match ended 2-1 to Japan but the boys made it through 2nd in the group which means they will be facing Morocco in the next round which I think will be a hard game as they have been playing incredibly well but I know they will put up a fight.

After the match finished I left my seat and went with all the other family of the players to go and meet them outside the changing room. Up until I was stood waiting to see Pablo I was excited but standing there I got nervous because what if he doesn't want to see me? What if he has thought about our relationship while we've been apart and thinks he'd be better off with someone like the princess. So many thoughts were swirling around my brain that I didn't even notice Pedri come out and walk over to me until he tapped my shoulder which got my attention.

"Hey are you ok?" He asked

"Yeah I'm fine just nervous" I replied

"Ok well he'll be out in a minute I'll see you both later" he said giving me a hug and then walked away

Once again I was on my own just waiting which made all the thoughts come right even though it was just a few minutes I got myself so worried that my hands were all sweaty but also shaking with nerves. This time I was paying attention so when Pablo came out the door I locked eyes with him and tried my best to give him a smile. He came over right away and gave me a quick hug before linking our hands together and dragging me out of the stadium. I thought seeing him would make me feel less insecure but after that reaction I honestly feel worse. To me it just seemed like he didn't want me to be there and he didn't want anyone to see me there as normally after a game we will stand together for a bit before we leave but this time he just dragged me straight out. It also hurt as when he came out the dressing room he was smiling but when he saw me his smile seemed to disappear which almost made me cry but I held it together just about.

We made it back to the hotel and went up to the room together where I hoped he might actually seem excited to see me but no he just sat on the bed and went on his phone. I crawled on the bed next to him and rested my head on his shoulder to see that he was on Instagram looking at edits people had made of him and the princess together. That was the last straw for me and the tears started to fall rapidly down my face so I got up and shut myself in the bathroom where I just let all my pent up emotion go until I was sobbing. I tried to my best to be quiet but Pablo must have heard me as I heard him knock on the bathroom door before it opened as I didn't lock it. As soon as we looked at each other he came and sat on the floor next to me and pulled me into his lap. He tried to wipe the tears from my face but they just kept falling so he tried gently rubbing my back to calm me down.

"What's wrong mi amor?" He asked

"Do you still love me?" I asked back instead of answering

"Of course I do so much what makes you think I don't?" He questioned

"Well you didn't seem too happy to see me back at the stadium and when we got here you were looking at edits of you and the princess if you would rather be with her I'd understand but just tell me now" I said

"Oh sweetheart I'm sorry I didn't meant to give you the wrong impression I don't want to be with anyone other than you I promise" he said

"Then why did you act like you wished I wasn't here?" I asked

"I didn't mean to love I'm sorry I was just upset about the match and I wasn't expecting to see you I should have acted differently so I'm sorry but I'm very happy you're here" he said

We talked things through a bit more and he made me feel a lot better about my insecurity without making me feel stupid which I was worried about. Communication is all we needed but it was the one thing we weren't doing so when we actually talked about everything going on in our heads it made everything so much better. I promised to tell him when if I was feeling insecure and he promised to not let games interfere with our relationship which I think will help us in the future.

He said he wanted to make it up to me so he picked me up and carried me to the bed where he attacked me with kisses all over my face until I was laughing and smiling. When he'd cheered me up he turned the tv on and we watched a film together while cuddling. We also ordered room service most of which I ate as Pablo has a diet he is supposed to follow but I did make him eat a few things and promised not to tell anyone. We stayed up longer than we probably should of but eventually we fell asleep cuddling and much happier than we were a few hours ago.

#pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi imagines #gavi imagine #gavi imagines #gavi oneshots #pablo gavi oneshots

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0alanasworld0 · 1 year ago

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Thoughts on morocco v egypt u23 afcon FINALS, 1st half:

- fantastic from moroccan midfield and attack: Receptive, taking risks, got progressively quicker over time and not at all intimidated by the egyptian defenders

- that being said the egyptian defence and goalkeeping are magnificent. Very croatia-esque with some stunning tackles from them.

- egypt are definitely playing dirty, not particularly composed, very aggressive. Theyre trying to be intimidating to get a reaction which worked very well for them in previous matches but the moroccan players have remained calm this far. Theyve actually managed to use it against them to send their goalscorer out and some yellows

- egypt are down to 10 men but i only managed to get my stream up AFTER the red card was given so idk what went on there

- idk what happened with the first egptian goal but ah well

- absolutely stunning goal from morocco in the 35th minute: beautiful ball from bilal, who had just lost the ball and managed to recover in his ideal position. Went straight to begraoui to shock the keeper who was in the completely wrong position to do anything. That is the type of play they need to be able to maintain to gain the lead.

- a super unfortunate miss in the 45th minute by saibari that could have seen morocco leading but never mind. A fantastic corner kick from abde however. We should applaud that ig because thats a first from him.

- i think if morocco continue to stay calm in dealing with the egyptian intimidation tactics and keep on taking those risks, they could probably get another one in and maintain a lead

- mashallah they are getting frighteningly good at the tiki taka stuff EXCEPT they do have an excellent striker + acting striker that gives them a little more security in that final third. Theyre already showing confidence but now we need even more confidence haha.

- it’s too early to say but a penalty shoot-out is NOT ideal. As magnificent as bellaarouch is, he is not a penalty specialist. And based on what i’ve seen so far from the egyptian keeper, i think he has potential with penalties. If it does go to pens, i wouldnt put abde up again for fear he will do the same thing he did on Tuesday 😅

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misstightysanguiny-blog · 2 years ago

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The Hills and Valleys of Chasing Your Dreams

I was 23 when I ventured the land of Great Britain to join the massive crew of Overseas Filipino Workers as a nurse. I was one of the "COVID batch" and thankfully survived the pandemic working in the frontline.

As to my previous blogs on the ups and downs on getting my Nursing PIN, I have come here again to show a little bit of a picture after that.

Straight after getting my PIN, O worked through all the trainings I need to provide quality care for my patients as the demands go on as to being a Neuroscience Nurse. I always look up to all the Nurse In-Charge as to how they handle the shift with all the patients making sure they support their colleagues throughout the shift. I aimed for that. I always tell myself that one day I will be on that same position. With that in mind, I always make sure that in every shift and every bay I handle, my patients received the quality care they deserve, and I think Filipino nurses are well known for that: to always give there best; the best smile, the best care.

After 2 years, I was given a chance to do further trainings to become a Nurse Incharge within the department. I know, others may say it took me a long time, because I have known people that they become Nurse Incharge in their wards in just a quick span of time. I didn't overthink my situation just to avoid any heartbreaks and knowing that everyone has there own timeline, so I should have mine as well.

First day of being a nurse in-charge, I always tell myself I can do it since I have been doing it in the Philippines for a year just before leaving to the UK, plus I have a great support from the Sisters and Charge Nurses. It all went well and they decided to give me shifts as Nurse Incharge.

After several shifts as Nurse In-Charge, I tested myself and applied as a Band 6 Sister in our department since few wards are in need. They mentioned they needed 3 people. I submitted my application and I got accepted for the interview. Even when I was on my month long holiday in the Philippines, I studied and prepared for the interview, thinking that there's a lot of chances on winning. Unfortunately, I didn't get the job since I don't have enough experience yet and ranked 4th on the interview. Oh well. I was just thinking I just need to learn more and do more.

After a few months, another job opening for a Ward Sister was posted and they said they needed 2 but 2 different interviews. The optimistic Self did it again and applied. I prepared, studied, and all. Unfortunately, one the first interview, I was just few points away, still, I didn't get the job. I was still hopeful, "There is still one more interview I can ace that since I was just a few points away." Lo and behold, I didn't get the job AGAIN. I was heartbroken. Maybe it was because of my pride as well. I was silent. Most of my colleagues in the ward was saying there will always be another Band 6 Sister opening that will come soon, I just always smile and just think that they are just saying that to comfort me.

January 2023, I received a group email from the Neuro Education team about an opportunity to join the hospital's Preceptorship Team as Preceptorship Facilitator. As I was reading the Job Description and Person Specification, I was glued to it, yet still having doubts about myself as to my recent pitfalls in job applications.

I talked to my boyfriend about it and we read it all over again. He encouraged me to apply for it saying that my personality will fit into teaching and supporting newly qualified nurses.

After how many doubts, prayers, and encouragements, and just a few days before the closing of the application, I finally had the courage to apply.

I was on my birthday holiday in Morocco when I received an email for invitation for interview by 1st week of February and to prepare a shirt presentation.

During that time, I don't want to tell anyone that O am applying for another Band 6 job but with a different team because of the shame that was brought from previous declines. I just approached my ward manager to spare me a day of annual leave for me to prepare my presentation and asked him to keep the secret for himself of me applying for this job. (Thank you, Ward Manager 😅)

The day has come that I will have my online interview and presentation, I even borrowed my friend's laptop since I don't have one and my boyfriend's laptop camera is playing up (Thanks Ate Ruth 😅). It was nerve wrecking yet I really enjoyed it! Even my boyfriend on the side, listening, said it was really impressive and I look so happy and seems like I enjoyed it very much (or maybe he just said it because he's my boyfriend 🤣) .

The panel told me that it will be a long wait for the result since they will still interview one more candidate and they didn't know when the interview is. THE WAITING GAME IS ALWAYS THE HARDEST.

After a week of waiting, I received a call from an unknown number, I was so nervous having the thought of the result. "We would like to offer you the job." That's it! I was shouting on the phone after hearing those words. Yeeeey!!! I was jumping around while still on the phone. I just can't believe it. Of course I said yes on taking the job. Finally!

After all the rejections, when something is for you, it is for you. God will never be late, never early. Just in time. In a few weeks time, I will start my new job role. Yey, new uniform waiting as well 🎉🤣

It's still the first 3 months of the year and a lot has happened already. After 2 weeks of saying yes to the job offer, I also said yes to my ex-boyfriend, now fiancé .

I always say this line which is always true: "He makes all things beautiful in His time."

Night shift Nurse Incharge. Few hours after I receive the job offer for Preceptorship Facilitator. 🎉

#UKRN #Pinoy #Filipino

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julemmaes · 2 years ago

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Your on a year abroad?! That’s so cool which country is it in? I’m glad ur having a good time - i have a year abroad next yr I am TERRIFIED 😭😭 any tips???

You signed up for this, but I'm still sorry it came out this long, so... sorry:)

I'm actually doing Erasmus if you know what that is. If you don't, the quick explanation is "your home country and university pay you to study abroad for a period of time that goes from 5 months to 11".

I'm almost halfway through my stay in Valencia, Spain, and I've had my highs and lows. I'm very attached to my family and I have a very very V E R Y large and close group of friends that I used to spend my entire days with, so at the beginning of the stay all I wanted to do was go back to Italy. I went home for a couple of days at the end of October and it nearly destroyed me coming back here (I literally just got to my apartment after spending three weeks at home and I'm numb but in a good way), to the point where I was considering giving up on the scholarship and cut the lease. My friends were supportive as fuck in that decision and my family has no idea I was doing that bad, but then I booked a trip to Morocco for December and from there it was honestly like a smooth ride. My days started to look brighter (let me romanticize my life) and I had way more motivation that I could have hoped for in that period.

I'm so mentally unstable that many of my friends doubted I could make it out alive, but I'm handling myself and reminding myself every day I'm just a 20yo living on her own for the first time, 1500km from her home and family. Which might not be that weird for some, might look like the end of the world for others. I'm in between that.

I recognize the chance I was given and the fact that this opportunity is not something I should take for granted, hence why I decided to stay in the end. This isn't forever. It's just a couple of months where I can push my limits and see where I stand in the world and what I wanna do with my life.

I'm not gonna lie and say everything is perfect cause I fucking hate my roommates and the way uni things are handled and having to buy water and walk from the groceries to my house with a 30km pack in my arms every time. But it's worth it. It's so worth it.

The people you meet. The places you get to see. Nobody stops you. You're your own person. You get to really find out what free will is (and let me tell you I did some weird as fuck things since I have no one controlling what I do), (like eating mandarins and only mandarins for three days straight—do not reccomend), (eat consistently).

Tips I'd give out are:

1. Check free card or student discounts for transportation. I literally paid zero (0) euros since I got here for the metro, bus, tram cause Valencia is perfect and people under 30 don't pay shit.

2. Every event your school or university offers, go. It's the fastest and best way to meet new people without having to worry of strangers on the internet.

3. This is controversial and really personal, so I'll give you the tip everybody gets and then my personal experience. A) Make friends fast as soon as you get there cause otherwise groups will be formed and you'll be alone forever. B) Don't worry too much about that cause you're constantly meeting new people every single day. Some you will find lame, some you will want to strangle and some will become your lifelong friends.

4. Let yourself feel and don't neglect your body. It's easy to forget you're not on a very long holiday and sometimes I lose sight of that as well. You're tired? Sleep. Don't feel guilty for not going out with your friends for the fifth night on a row. You're angry cause your roommate didn't throw out the trash on his day? Send him that fucking text cursing him through the seven realms of hell (idek if they're seven). You miss you bed and your pillow? Cry.

Remember it's okay if you feel sad AND happy at the same time. Those two emotions being contraries to each other doesn't mean they can't coexist. I'm constantly feeling grateful for being here and homesick cause I wish I was in my parents bed gossiping with them. I'm always anxious I'm missing out on everything going on back home while signing my lungs out at a club with my friends. I've had two long months where I was guilty 24/7 cause I wouldn't let myself feel any of those emotions and end up depressed.

Just, feel.

5. If you'll live on your own, grocery shop smartly. Don't over buy. The food will still be there in the shop the next time you go. But it WILL get moldy and spoiled if you buy it and then don't have enough time to eat it.

6. If your program offers weekends trips (even daily trips) go on them cause it's the best choice ever. I took one on the third day I was here and I meet the one person that later became my very bestest friend ever. They might be pricey but it's worth it.

7. Be ready to be disappointed by many things. Not everything will go as planned and not everything will be as you imagined it. And that's okay. Brace yourself for failure and accept things as they come. If you have no control over it, it's useless to stress about it.

8. Idk which country you're going to, but make the most of it and travel around. Find some friends with the same will go explore and take trains, busses and cars to wherever. Even the city you live in might have some secret gems, you just need to look for them.

I'm literally sleepwalking at this point, so I think this is enough, but don't hesitate to send other asks or dm me directly if you ever need something❤❤

#i got an aask #personal #ire

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saharadesertlady · 2 months ago

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Here’s looking at you, kid

I’m a very impulsive person by nature. I don’t think things to death, or at all for that matter. I am a 35 year old single woman with ADHD who has no dependents and no tethers, so naturally when my aunt sent me an instagram post about a Morocco tour I booked it immediately. I’m still waiting for the day that my impulsivity gets me into trouble but honestly, in hindsight, I don’t know why everybody in the world doesn’t just impulsively book a trip to Morocco. So hopefully this blog will inspire some impulsivity in you.

I landed pretty late at night in Casablanca and was met with the first Morocco cliche that I read about: Forex consultants will get you to put your Moroccan Dirhams (MAD) on a travel card which you can tap and use at ATMS. You will quickly find that outside of major city centres the ATMs do not work, the cards come with a fee and also the consultant gets commission for every card they sell. Don’t fall for it. Take hard cash. Moroccan cliche 2: Taxi operators hounding you at the airport. I was met by one such young man straight out of the gates. When I agreed he pointed me to a chair and told me to wait. He then proceeded to hound every other person coming out of arrivals in an effort to fill up his taxi. It was 10pm at night and after 45 minutes of waiting I left and decided to book a Careem (Arab Uber).

Cue Morocco cliche 3: Careem app quotes MAD350 for the trip but when I got to the hotel he told me that after 11pm the charges double so I now have to pay a very angry Arab man MAD500. Advice online is to heckle but as a solo female traveller late at night I gave in. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though.

I was warned not to wander around Casablanca late at night by myself so I didn’t venture out much. To be honest Casablanca was rather unremarkable so I didn’t feel like I was missing out on much, so I went to bed happy in the knowledge that the next day would bring my tour of the King Hassan II mosque. It’s 210m tall minaret, lush gardens, expansive courtyards and magnificent mosaic walls are breathtaking. It can fit 25,000 people inside the mosque and an additional 80,000 people in the gardens and courtyards. The mosque hugs the Atlantic coastline and has glass floors in some places so worshippers can stand and prostrate directly above the ocean.

I’ve always had an issue with elaborate mosques. They can be very distracting, with so much for the eyes and ears to absorb that your mind tends to wander away from prayer, and additionally elaborate monuments cost a great sum. This one apparently costed around $750m, funded by the King directly as well as public funding. But great men of history have been building monuments to themselves and other great men since time immemorial and they’ve almost always been built on the financial and physical backs of the common people.

But this is the thing with African, Arabian and many East Asian cultures. Love for their monarchies is still an engrained thing. Pictures of previous kings can be found in government buildings, but also cafes, convenience stores and even in peoples homes. They speak of their leaders with an almost fearful reverence, as if the men themselves might jump out of the pictures and arrest them for treason right then and there.

However, as someone who has travelled to the Muslim Holy lands of Makkah, Medina and �� and prayed at some of the holiest sites in the world I wasn’t entirely sold on the intricately carved granite walls from the Atlas Mountains, the engraved marble from Agadir or the hand blown and painted glass windows from Murano, Venice. But I’ll tip my hat to the beautiful mosaic murals which are a nod to Moroccan culture.

Tours for non-Muslims are only available with the use of guides. Women must cover legs and arms. Tour entry was about MAD11.

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journey-of-the-ip · 5 months ago

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Thursday June 6th

I guess I’m starting a new day even though it’s still the middle of the night in home time.

Bleghh kinda finished the flight zombie mode. The flight was only 8-9 hours which is pretty short imo, and I only “slept” probably like an hour or two? Probably less honestly. It’s crazy with map projections we took a short cut over the top of the globe cause that’s how globes work. Weird.

Upon landing I finally figured out the roaming data with Mint but my coverage is garbage and I couldn’t get signal in most of the airport.

Also the airport WiFi wasn’t working so I was like damn, also I walked past and then subsequently couldn’t get back to the SIM card shop in the airport double damn. I also walked past and couldn’t get back to the money exchange in the airport. Triple damn.

I was anxious that my credit card would be declined and I wouldn’t have any euros so I wandered around a bit by t didn’t really get anywhere, brain was feeling very shot so I just went up to the taxi stand which luckily was really easy to find and got a taxi to my hotel.

Card was accepted, all is good. Is this frontal lobe anxiety finally kicking in? (Albeit too late for me to have done anything about it) I guess just need to practice being more proactively anxious.

At the hotel, I can’t check in until 2 (it’s 11 at this point) so I have 3 hours to kill till I can brush my teeth, shower, and feel human. Also it’s HOT which makes sense because it’s June but Seattle has lulled me into a false sense of security. This trip is gonna be sweaty.

Anyways my hotel is near the airport which means it’s near nothing interesting. I’m between a Nissan dealership and an IKEA.

I have a long vent about globalization which I hopefully get back to because I’m writing this as I’m waiting to check into my room still.

Luckily, seems like there’s a shopping mall about a 15 min walk from the hotel so I go there and grab a bite to eat and hide in the air conditioning for a while. i didn’t realize how ravenous I was bc I wasn’t really craving any of my snacks, classic. After I made my way back to the hotel where I am now.

Schleepy. Hopefully will write more later.

Okay I slept from 3-8pm and then from 10pm-2am. It’s now 7:14. I guess I’m still including this in the day before because I don’t have any pictures yet and these thoughts are from yesterday. Anyways here is my vent I was too sleepy to transcribe yesterday.

Being here is kind of uncanny. Except for a few things, you could easily mistake this place for the US, or Mexico City. Most of the stores I see are international brands. At the mall I saw Starbucks, Sephora, guess, H&M, etc etc. when I was looking for food, I saw Italian, sushi, frozen yogurt. It felt like being in any other urban mall. (One store I thought was funny was straight up the Aliexpress store?? It was like a cross between a dollar store and one of those stupid tech shops that had like massagers in the early 2000s.

Of course some things are different, I found a more traditional tapas place and got some food you wouldn’t normally see in the US. Everyone smokes here, drinking is much more casual, and they’re fond of this weird sloped escalator that’s like half way between an escalator and those airport fast walk things. Maybe it’s wheel chair accessible? But that thing is still pretty steep idk

I’m also not in a touristy spot but like, I feel like the mall I went to was a very authentic local person mall. The people just looked like normal Spanish people not tourists. Even so, Everyone here speaks English, they had an English menu ready for me, it’s all so… samey? Easy? Idk

I think this is part of why I’m not caring as much about traveling these days. Why spend all that money to just go, be somewhere with a slightly different skin? Anything I could want I could personally also get on Amazon, or at my own malls, idk.

I’m going Morocco will be more different. This is definitely bias but it feels like different == poorer. Where cities if given the option will homogenize into a globalized urban center.

When I reflect back, I feel like Saigon had more character and differences even though it also felt like a global city. Anyways.

Gonna chill and rest here until late morning and then hopefully stay out all day today. We’ll see.

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doesmichelinevenknowfood · 2 years ago

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Who is eating at bar?

Bar is one of those restaurants that just confuses me. The pizza is fine but I don't know something about the customer base is so strange. It's like the type of hip college kids you see in movies, but as 30+ year olds.

I remember the first time I went on a date to bar, I was already twisted off a scorpion bowl from Miso, and the bartender was like "are you guys on drugs?" I'm like yessir. And then we were sitting down near the pool table and this dude from Morocco started asking me if my Juul was hash, and if I sell hash. I was like yeah i'll sell you this for 60 bucks. We left soon after because she left me with him but the point is that a lot of weirdos drink there.

The nightclub is even worse. Everyone is just standing around staring at the DJ. And bar is supposed to be like THE spot in New Haven so I don't know dawg there's really no hope for the youth.

I can keep telling stories about how stupid that place is. It's always full of weirdos, and actually I love it. I do keep going back and its funny so I guess I'm a part of the problem. Their drinks suck though they taste like straight hand sanitizer.

I did once meet this girl there who was like 30 and was trying to bag me. We're friends now but she lives in Rhode Island. It's always good to have strange connects in other cities though. The single most important part of life is to be connected to some degree in as many hoods as possible.

Bar is actually a very important location even if it is literally purgatory, so it gets a 10/10 rating.

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now-we-say-c0ral · 2 years ago

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March 17,2023

I cancelled my bank shift today last Tuesday, I think, because I can't really handle working like how hard I worked last week. Last week was a whole new level of tired for me because I worked 6 days straight from Monday to Saturday. Woke up around 8:35am in the morning and had a weird dream which I can't exactly remember. Did a 6/6 attempt in Wordle today and I was quite afraid that my 40 streak win was about to go down the drain. Made myself some pancakes slathered with a protein hazelnut spread and my favorite dry roast from Nescafe. Did my laundry and played 2 rank games in Pokemon Unite and finished the final episode of You S4P2. It was quite good and impressive how Joe got away with everything again. After that gave Lindcae and the family back home a call and went to the gym. Since I didn't do a proper gym session yesterday, today was a super/suffer day for me. Back, chest, legs, and arms. Sheesh! Spent 3 hours in the gym today and was freaking exhausted. Went to Mark and Spencer's after to buy a birthday cake and a few other stuff for Dani's advance birthday celebration. She won't be here next week on her birthday because she'll be in Morocco with a colleague of her so we just planned an early celebration. Laksmi cooked us a very good pasta dish! It was so good and filling that I had seconds and the birthday cake was to die for. Had like 6 shots of tequila while the rest abstained because we me and Dani had a waiting list to do tomorrow with Mr. Hennebry. My friends confronted me about how they noticed that I was underperforming at work evidenced by the needle stick injury that I sustained yesterday and I personally think that I wasn't giving my best this week too. I think that it's the residue from last week's burnout. I'm glad that I have friends who tell me these stuff and not spread stuff behind my back. They're one of the closes people I have here in the UK and I'm beyond happy that I have met them. We just ate and drank and gossiped from 6pm to half past 11. It was quite a nice get together outside of work. Eddie texted me if he could go to a bar with his friends. I said yes and didn't think much about it. I have to trust him after everything. It's not going to be good if I say no on my part. I'm fine and I'm handling it quite well after everything. I also talked with Porcia about my dilemma if I should buy a laptop or a PC or a console just to play Diablo 4 and possibly any other game that I might like. Signs point to buying a Macbook. I hope I make the right decision. I have until June.

Today's thoughts were about me being a version of myself that the younger me would be proud of. I don't think that my younger self would be proud of me right now. It's nothing but a hallow shell of his former glory but I think my younger self would hold my hand and tell me that I'm capable of great things. I know I am. I just have to put myself out there. I'm so afraid of making mistakes that I miss opportunities and chances and let moments slip by. When these things come, I'll try to seize every opportunity to make new experiences and memories.

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sserpente · 3 years ago

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A/N: That Hyundai ad hit different. *chuckles*

Words: 3097 Warnings: kidnapping, hostage

New York smelled pretty bad, come to think of it. You had almost forgotten the hustle and bustle of this huge city that never slept and if there was one thing you had not been missing at all after spending a few months in Morocco for work, it was the constant traffic jams.

It was hot, unbearably so. You’d been a sweating mess ever since your cab driver had picked you up at the airport and the fact that the air conditioning in the cab was broken didn’t exactly help with that. Your thighs stuck to the leather of the backseat, your forehead glistening and your make-up… well, it used to be make-up.

The cab driver seemed nice, at least and since the long snake made entirely of cars had not moved for at least an hour now, he had offered to park on the side of the road and get you both a bottle of water. Ironically, you were only a few yards away from Stark Tower.

Perhaps you shouldn’t complain about the traffic jam. Half of the city was a mess after the atrocious battle you had been fortunate enough only to have witnessed on the news on the plane. You could only hope that your tiny studio flat was still intact and quite frankly, it was short of a miracle that a cab service had actually agreed on picking you up so shortly after an almost-war—not to mention that the plane had actually landed.

You sighed, brushing a strand of hair sticking to your cheek out of your face. You were unbelievably tired—even more so knowing that you had dodged a catastrophe that would go down in history all thanks to work. Your eyes fell shut and you leaned against the car window when suddenly, the driver’s door was all but yanked open and someone who certainly did not resemble your cab driver, started the car and clutched at the steering wheel as if his life depended on it.

Your lips parted. Shackles and a muzzle, along with a blue glowing cube landed on the passenger seat with a loud clatter, followed by an annoyed groan. It was him. The man who had attempted to take over the entire planet only moments ago, he was here in this car and he was currently kidnapping you with it.

A scream escaped your lips, a mixture of shock and fear spreading in your body and fuelling the rising amount of adrenaline. It was only then the God of Mischief glanced at the rear-view mirror and spotted you there panicking—but by then, he had already stirred the car back on the road, straight towards the traffic jam.

“You… you are… Let me out! Let me out at once!” You screeched, the heat around you—along with your miserable appearance—all but forgotten. Loki rolled his eyes. Great. Another mortal.

“I am not stopping this car,” was all he said. Your eyes widened in utter shock.

“Then don’t! Fuck!” Danger was radiating off of this man like heat from an active volcano; so if necessary, you would jump out of the moving car as well. Biting your lower lip and wondering if you should go through with this risky stunt at the speed he was going, the wheels squeaking over the asphalt with every abrupt turn he took, or if that would be a suicide mission. It was probably the latter, and when you reached for the handle of the back door, it took the God of Mischief only a mere second to lock it, trapping you inside.

“Let me out! Let me out!”

“You’ll kill yourself.” Loki spat. You did not miss the patronising tone in his voice—stupid. He believed you stupid.

“And if I stay in here with you I won’t?” You retorted hysterically. And it was justified, really—for when your gaze drifted back to the road ahead of you, you could see him racing straight towards a long line of cars waiting for the traffic to clear up.

“Watch out! The other cars, watch out! Oh my God…” You screamed, squeezing your eyes shut and covering your face with your arms but the imminent crash never came. When you opened your eyes again, Loki had all but moved through the other cars as if by magic. God, what was this, Harry Potter?

With your heart in your mouth, you brought your trembling hands to your thighs and pressed down on them in a desperate attempt to fight off the panic attack rising within you like the forthcoming eruption of a volcano.

But even when you reached the suburbs, ironically moved closer to your home, and the car finally slowed down to a reasonable speed, making you wonder how a god from another realm knew how to drive a car in the first place, your dread kept growing steadily. What would happen once Loki decided he had reached his destination? What would he do with you? Would you end up as another casualty? You’d know where he was, after all, and only God knew how he had managed to escape after the Avengers reported his capture—not to mention that he was in the possession of that mysterious blue cube you were certain bore even more chaos and destruction in the wrong hands.

“I take it this vehicle is supposed to be a means of transport in exchange for payment?” He suddenly said.

“What?” You gaped at him, swallowing. “Yes! I mean, yes, it’s a taxi. That’s… I was…”

“Where do you live?”

“Excuse me? What, are you going to drop me off and expect me to tip you?”

Loki smirked. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why but he did like your feistiness. “I need a place to hide.”

“What… no! No! I am not giving shelter to a criminal!” You snarled, swallowing your fear of him—and then you made the mistake of peeking at the navigation system the taxi driver had set up next to the steering wheel, with your address on bright display to show Loki exactly where he’d have to go.

The God of Mischief tilted his head. “You don’t have much choice in the matter, my dear.”

You took a deep shaky breath, digging your nails into the backseat. If your lower lip was trembling, you didn’t notice. “P-please… please just let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone where you are or where you went. Please.”

“I am not going to kill you if that is what you are worried about.” He replied after a long pause. When you said nothing, too stunned and scared to come up with another snarky comment, silence spread in the car like wildfire.

Hugging your knees to your chest, you closed your eyes, hoping that this was a bad joke, a terrible nightmare and any moment now, you would wake up safely on the plane, yet to land in half-destroyed New York City—but the end of slumber never came. You were wide awake; even more so when, after what felt like hours, Loki finally stopped the car. Of course, you had not noticed him observing you repeatedly through the rear-view mirror, almost as if to check if you were still alive.

Your eyes met and then, finally, he unlocked the doors. Only now, you did not move an inch. You had no idea what to expect if you stepped out of this car.

Naturally, Loki disagreed with your cautious decision. He yanked the car door open when he saw you frozen in place, grabbing your upper arm so fast you didn’t even have a chance to react, and all of a sudden, seeing the entrance door of the apartment building you lived in did not at all look as appealing as it had at the airport anymore.

His grip around your arm was firm but when you whined in pain, the God of Mischief actually softened it—if only a little, barely noticeable.

“Unlock the door, my dear, will you?” He inquired, smiling sweetly at you. Right beneath the surface, you could hear that there would be dire consequences if you failed to comply.

Surely at this point, he could hear your rapid heartbeat. Shaking, you fumbled for the keys in your bag until they were jingling in your palms all the while Loki watched you like a hawk. You had dismissed calling the police on your phone in the car already—for now.

Fuck, you had been kidnapped. You were about to be held hostage in your own flat, or… or… was he just going to enter and kick you out? Had he been lying about not killing you? Would he fling a dagger at you any moment now like you had seen him do on TV?

Loki followed you when you approached the door and unlocked it clumsily. One floor up and to the left. For just a brief moment, you wondered what would happen if you started screaming bloody murder, alerting your neighbours but even when you opened your mouth to attempt it, not a single sound would escape your lips.

Even a little further out and farther away from the centre of New York City, rent prices were horrendous. Your salary was not bad but your apartment was no more than a small studio equipped with a humble kitchen, a separate bathroom with a tiny shower and lastly, your double bed in the centre of the room, posing as your sofa during the day.

Loki looked around unimpressed when he entered. “Well… it will do.”

“N-now what?” You choked out.

Loki raised his eyebrows, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Pretend I’m not even here.”

Right—because that was going to be so easy. He sighed and rolled his eyes when you only stared at him in horror.

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

“W-would you? You tried to subjugate our planet like ten minutes ago!”

“And for good reason too. This realm is lawless, your people slaughter each other day in and out and you feel threatened by me? I would have given you a new purpose.”

He had a point… but… “And what is that so-called purpose? Slavery?” Loki’s expression darkened, making you flinch back.

“S-sorry… I’ll… I’ll be i-in the bathroom taking a shower. Please just… I mean… whatever.” Would he stop you? Hesitating, you made your way to the bathroom, waiting for him to yank you back, press you against the wall and threaten you? Threaten you with what, exactly? Could you trust that he wouldn’t kill you? Loki felt like a ticking time bomb in your flat.

But a painful yank never came and when you locked the bathroom door behind you, you exhaled. Inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled, trying to process the fact you had a war criminal in your home.

Once you had gathered enough energy to do what you had come to the bathroom for and, an hour later, returned to the main room, Loki was sitting on your bed cross-legged, the Tesseract right before him, glowing away.

“I roamed your ‘kitchen’”, he said without glancing up to meet your eyes, “Do you have anything edible at all?”

“I was away for a whole month.” You argued. “I haven’t done any shopping yet because I was kidnapped by a space Viking.”

Loki smirked. Amused, he finally looked up. “Well, perhaps I should take you back to Asgard with me then. I could use a diligent little servant.”

Your reaction did not disappoint him. Chuckling to himself, he slid off the bed more elegantly than you could ever muster, the Tesseract disappearing into nothingness.

“What I am trying to say is that even gods need to eat and I am, quite frankly, starving.”

“That sounds like a you-problem.” You grumbled. And then, as if on cue, your stomach growled. Damn it.

“Fine. I’ll order some pizza.”

Loki had all but watched you like a hawk upon calling the local pizza place. Everything inside of you had screamed to let them know about your predicament, to beg them to call the police and send them to you instead of the pizza.

But as soon as the food was delivered, the mood in your apartment changed so rapidly it left you wondering if the only reason for Loki’s world domination attempt had been his hunger. The man devoured a family-sized pizza in but what felt like two minutes and, upon realising you were done with yours, leaving three pieces in the box, he devoured those as well. And never before had you seen someone eat pizza so gracefully.

It didn’t exactly make it feel like you had been kidnapped anymore. Perhaps… perhaps he hadn’t been lying about not wanting to kill you after all. Perhaps he wasn’t as evil as you… no, stop. He had literally just tried to take over the planet!

“What are you pondering on, little mortal?”

You shivered, the nickname affecting you in a way it truly shouldn’t, especially after he had lost his armour and magically exchanged it for more casual clothes—they still looked like they were from a different time period altogether but it wasn’t nearly as intimidating as before.

“W-why did you really do it?” You found yourself asking. It was a risk—but you were feeling braver now that your stomach was full even though part of you was surprised you had managed to eat at all.

“What?”

“Why did you really try to take over the planet? Did you… do you really want to enslave us all?”

“A lack of freedom does not equal slavery. It offers protection from failure and bad choices.” He said. You frowned.

“You truly believe that?”

“You fight wars over opinions, religions and race among your own species. Your choices are suffocating the whole of Midgard. I would have changed that.”

“You can’t be serious.”

You looked down, reaching for the sweet treat that had come with your pizza to stop your fingers from trembling.

“What is that?”

“Oh, uh… those are marshmallows. This pizza place always packs them with your order, don’t ask me why.”

“What’s that?” He repeated, frowning at the plastic wrapper.

“It’s candy…”

“Well, it doesn’t look very natural.”

Woah. How had this conversation just gone from “humans should not have freedom of choice” to “marshmallows look unhealthy”?

“They’re… I mean they’re not. They’re made of pure sugar and artificial flavouring.”

“Then why do you eat them?”

“Because… because they taste good?”

Loki gave you a taunting look. See? It said. This is what I meant.

But when you opened the package and handed it to him, he took one out nonetheless. It looked tiny between his long fingers—as tiny as you must have looked next to him.

You gulped when it disappeared between his lips. When you reached out to take the package back, he snatched it away from you.

“They are quite delicious, actually.” Your jaw dropped when he popped them all into his mouth at once, winking at you. Not quite sure how to react to this, you averted your gaze, taking a feigned interest in your digital alarm clock on the nightstand instead.

It was only 5 PM but you were positively ready to pass out. Where would you even sleep tonight? Where would he sleep? Would he even sleep?

“You are tired.” He suddenly stated as if on cue. He couldn’t read your mind… right? He did have that weird cube of his, after all.

“Well, yeah… I got kidnapped, experienced a live remake of ‘Fast and Furious’ and I have a criminal in my flat.”

“I only understood half of what you just said but I can ensure you that I will not harm you when you sleep.” There it was again, that frown that almost made it look like he was offended. As if the very circumstance of him hurting an innocent for no reason other than malice insulted him.

“So by all means, retire to bed.” He went on, gesturing to the bed and eventually, standing up to make space for you. The pizza boxes disappeared in but a green shimmer of light and you watched Loki, albeit still suspicious, heading over to the small kitchen table. To be quite frank, it was the last thing you remembered.

Loki was gone, no trace of him left. It was as if he had never even been here. It was already past noon—the exhaustion from your flight as well as the racy car drive and last but not least, your shining time as a hostage had worn you out to the point you didn’t even remember falling asleep anymore.

You only realised now that it was your doorbell that had woken you up. Jumping out of bed and moaning when your vision turned black for a moment, you headed over to your speaker and pressed the button. Perhaps it was Loki. Perhaps he had locked himself out but then again… would he not be able to magic himself back in? Why had he insisted on you unlocking the door yesterday in the first place? You shook your head.

“Hello?”

“Hi. This is Henry, I’ve got your delivery.” A boyish voice responded.

“W-what delivery? I didn’t order anything.”

“You did, ma’am, would you come open the door, please?”

You sighed. “Fine, I’ll be down in a second.”

You had fallen asleep in your clothes from last night, so one quick glance in the mirror was all you had before you headed back down and opened the main entrance door.

The delivery boy was holding both your suitcase and a jumbo-size package of marshmallows in his hands. Big marshmallows—the bonfire kind, to be precise.

“Who…” But you knew. You knew the moment you made the connection and knew the moment you looked straight into Henry’s eyes and noticed them glowing unnaturally blue when he handed the items to you.

It had not been a dream then. Loki had really been here. You had been eating pizza with the God of Mischief and now… the gesture was almost sweet. Was that his way of saying thank you? For what? You hadn’t exactly done much except for trembling in fear.

“He instructed me to tell you that you will meet again soon.” Henry announced and then, before you even had a chance to respond, he turned on his heel, hopped back into the delivery van parked in front of the building and left. You only realised now that the Hyundai taxi was gone too.

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alldayangst · 3 years ago

Text

lovebug (Tom Holland)

GIF is from gaybuckybarnes here on Tumblr. You can access my masterlist here. This was written for @worldoftom’s lolbrosgetsicktoochallenge. The prompt I had was: ‘Tom self diagnoses himself as sick. He’s got all the symptoms. He’s speechless, over the edge and just breathless. He never thought he’d get hit by the ‘love-bug’ again’. Inspired by the song Lovebug by Jonas Brothers!

A/N: Y/N is an assistant director on Cherry in this fic. This has a lot of Cherry (the movie) references but most are explained if you haven’t seen the film. Such as, it was filmed in Cleveland and Morocco, directed by Joe and Anthony Russo. Some scenes in this fic borrow from the movie & I’ve linked clips from the film if you’d like to listen/watch along. WC: 4K.

“Yeah, Mum, I’ve just got like the sorest throat at the moment.” Nikki’s picture cuts in and out on a scrambled screen on the South side of London, her husband’s hand periodically reaching out for her, rubbing her shoulder, then leaving the frame almost as quickly as it came in. Even through the low quality, the pixels dashing about his screen, Tom can make out his mother’s brows knitting together and can’t remove the feeling of utter guilt when he sees her grow redder and redder out of anger, concern and confusion for her son. “But I’ve got Harry here with me.” Harry waves from behind his brother, his trusty mug swapped for a Phoenix Coffee Cup in his spare hand, just to get a taste of the States.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He barely drinks coffee on the other side of the pond, and would bet good money that an at home PG Tips would beat America’s swankiest coffee joint any day. But now, he’s betrayed his usual routine and his body’s all out of whack and his throat is hoarse, he’s breathless even at times.

Harry shoots his mum a half smile to comfort her, but he doesn’t know what it's like to be a mother, and his and Tom’s mouth both form an ‘O’ when Nikki begins to type so hard her screen jolts and Tom swears she’s put a dent in it. “You know what? I’m going to give them a piece of my mind, Tom! They’re overworking you!” Nikki looks intensely to find her baby boy in drug-addled eyes and his jungle of curls on his newly shaven head. She guesses it becomes easier when Tom pushes his face halfway into the screen and pleads like the child he’ll always be to her, “Please, please Mum! I can’t have any days off. Under any circumstances, I need to finish this film!”

Tom turns to his younger brother for help. “Tell her, Harry!”

And as little brothers do best, Harry spills the beans as soon as Tom’s phone is in clutch. “Tom’s fallen in love with the first A.D., Y/N.”

Nikki immediately loses her frown, knowing how love can knock Tom off his feet and blow all the wind out of him. Tom’s father, Dom, re-enters the frame to match Nikki’s grin. He never misses an opportunity to tease. “Oo, caught a case of the love bug, have you?”

Harry has to whip the phone around to dodge Tom’s protesting arms reaching for it again. “Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot.” Harry mutters. Tom’s family doesn’t budge any further, knowing how bad Tom was hurt after his last relationship. They weren't sure when the love bug would come back to bite him again. So after they all shared a knowing look, Harry handed Tom his phone back. “I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.”

It all started five weeks ago. Tom, at 24, was beginning to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound. Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour.

He’d say, perhaps, you were the closest thing to the real deal. The problem was, he didn’t know if you liked him back.

“When life was beginning, I saw -”

“When life was-”

“When life was be-fuck!”

“When life was beginning, I saw you.”

Tom could make a picture book out of the day he first met you. He remembers how your hair looked that day, the speckles of genuinity in your eyes, how your ear-to-ear smile seemed to be a mirror because every time he saw you from then on, he brandished the same beam. He recalls how his eyes went low as he dropped his script to his lap and stared at your lips, so soft and kissable, as you repeated his words back to him: “When life was beginning, I saw you.” Then you chuckled softly as Tom waited patiently for his head and his heart to return to him.

“I’m sorry. I’m dyslexic. I have a bit of trouble reading.”

“It’s cool, I'm the first A.D. That’s what I’m here for.”

You rubbed your hands on the back of your trousers, your mic jostling in your back pocket as you attempted to rid yourself of your nervous, sweaty palms.

“I’m Y/N.” You reached out for a shake only for Tom to cough loudly into his own hand.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry! That wasn’t me trying to get out of your handshake. I- I-.” Tom looked at his hand for it had failed him for the first time in his life. His hand that had helped him up during handstands, being his crutch through cartwheels and backflips, but had decidedly run out of luck to be on the receiving end of Tom’s monstrous cough impending a handshake with someone his eyes just couldn’t look away from.

You laugh again. Your laugh sounds like melody, Tom muses. Awestruck, he wishes he could play it again, repeat it like a radio hit and never wash himself of the feeling he got when he heard your laugh for the first time.

“It’s all good. I’ll see you around.” You disappear from his trailer, likely on a venture to your own, when Joe and Anthony block his view of you walking away.

Anthony and Joe take on the ghost of you in Tom’s room, “Tom! The man, the myth and the legend!” Joe comes behind him to rub his newly hairless head. “We’re so glad you agreed to do this movie!”

“Bummed that you’re not coming to the Browns game tonight, though.” Anthony remarks, throwing a football at Joe who sets it in his lap.

“Harry and I, we’re British, mate. We play football with our feet.”

Joe doesn’t know it then, but his next words are the beginning of the end for Tom. He rubs on his football and looks Tom in his eye when he poses, “It’s a shame ‘cause the whole crew’s going. First day of filming celebrations.”

“The whole crew?”

Anthony mumbles an ‘mhm’ as he picks up a framed photo of Tom and RDJ sitting pretty on Tom’s dresser, posing like father and son.

Tom’s usually self assured when he’s on set, but he’s hesitant to say this next improvised line. His voice trails off as he speaks. “Including Y/N?”

“Y/N?” Joe queries, with a smile that’s half scary and half comforting, and the butterflies in Tom’s stomach are begging him not to fuck this up and suddenly every second a word is not spoken feels like hours have passed and he might have ruined things before they’ve even started, gosh he just met you and-

Tom tries to play it cool. “I don’t- they’re cool.” Tom coughs again. “I mean, I don’t really know them but Y/N seems cool I guess.”

Anthony and Joe smile at each other, scrambling to exit. “Whole crew’s going, baby!” Joe beams.

“Please don’t tell Y/N I asked!” Tom shouts before they’re out of earshot.

“Yeah, yeah. Anthony, go long!”

A few hours later, Tom was sitting next to an unamused Harry, you on his left, foam fingers pointing every which way.

“Are you a big football fan?” Tom asked, imposter syndrome creeping up on him. He had the best seats in the house, but knew not a thing about this sport he’d come down to watch. Meanwhile, crew and crowd alike sat themselves around you guys, cheering leaving throats raw for days to come and a tussle for a foam finger between Joe and Anthony leading to hundreds of sugary popcorn shells scattered on the stadium floor.

“I mean, I wouldn’t ever turn down the option to look at Odell Beckham Jr. Are you?” you replied.

Tom looked over to his brother who sat with his chin in his hand, lips pulled into a thin straight line as his rusty curls were blown about from the wind of brown and orange flags flown from fans behind him. “We could learn to love it.” Tom flashed you a toothy grin, unsure of where to guide the conversation next. He knew for sure that he wanted to keep talking to you, but his ego began putting up a fight, eager to show himself off if you’d have him in any way. Tom sighed. “Truth is, we have no fucking clue what’s going on.” Tom could hear the commentary about a player reaching the end zone, but they were all just words that went into one ear then came straight out of the other.

You giggled. “I have no idea either. We could make up our own rules if you want.”

Tom likes the way you think. He also likes the way you speak. He loves the way you laugh.

“You have a beautiful laugh.”

You covered your mouth. “Oh, fuck, I hate my laugh!”

“I’d make you laugh a thousand times if I could.”

You pointed to the jumbo screen as Mayfield made a touchdown, unable to stop laughing from sheer nerves as you felt Tom’s hot, burning haze on you. An advert for Cleveland’s Own Phoenix Coffee flashed on the screen as you spoke. “We’ll make our own rules. Every time we see the quarterback pick up the ball, we’ll cheer.”

By the end of the night, Tom is speechless, breathless and over the edge of his chair in faux excitement and anticipation of the quarterback receiving the ball once again.

“Another coffee?” The service worker asked.

“Yes please!” You and Tom both say in unison, pumped as the quarterback began circling around to collect the ball in open arms.

The footage of the game is cut abruptly as the camera points to a confused, solo Harry; Anthony and Joe are seen at the edge of the frame whispering suggestively and pointing towards Tom, the camera eventually capturing the superstar who looks back up at his own reflection. Poorly green screened hearts flood the screen and the camera pans to include you in the frame too. Tom looks on in horror when he realises what’s going on and how it could be too late, and turns to you.

“I promise I didn’t know this was going on. We don’t have to.” Tom panics.

You hear him loud and clear, that you don’t have to, but your heart and eleven thousand people are telling you to kiss him otherwise. “Oh well. We should just do it.” you murmur, the bright pink ‘KISSCAM’ logo flashing in and out.

It doesn’t take more than a moment for the gap between you and Tom to close, for your face to get lost behind his, his lips pressing against yours, eyes closed, trusting each other to share your air. This was probably the first thing that night worth cheering for, howls and whistles erupting around you.

Tom doesn’t understand American football, but he thinks that the best seats in the house could be anywhere next to you.

Harry’s on the phone to his twin brother, Sam, when you and the rest of the crew make it back to the hotel later on. “-Yeah, and Tom spent half the night with the first A.D. cheering and screaming at fuck all.”

The Cleveland Browns lost that night, but Tom remains none the wiser. He stood in the doorway as Harry continued to relay his day to Sam. “Oh, and Tom, Mum said to give her a call, eavesdropper.” He flicks Tom’s reddening nose before closing the door.

A week and a half later, Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He never has the time anymore to attend ‘real’ football games back home, and he actually understands the game back in Britain. But now, he’s cheered at almost every given opportunity to impress you stupidly, and his chest and voice is suffering as a consequence.

You and Tom walked onto set with your pinkies intertwined, growing closer and closer by the minute, but Tom doesn’t miss how Ciara’s boyfriend visits set every day for her, doesn’t miss how they rub their nose together in this lovey-dovey affection he wishes he could bestow upon you.

The scene wasn’t working.

The crew was beginning to grow restless and Tom silently became more frustrated as the minutes went by and he was unable to get his lines right. He remembers how a week ago, it felt so easy. You were there to correct him when he stumbled upon his lines and you picked him up so effortlessly, a twinkling smile on your face. But then? Then you were different. Your eyes were scrunched up behind the lens of the camera and you were mumbling something to Anthony about how the sun was due to go down in Ohio soon so you needed to hurry along.

“Alright.” you announced. “Take five!”

And Tom was thankful, Ciara perched upon a swing for the scene they were filming, Tom dwindling the rope of the swing under his finger as her boyfriend approached her once again. “Hey dude, are you okay?”

Ciara looked at Tom with the same concern, hands finding home in her boyfriend’s nest of hair. “Yeah, Tom, are you okay?”

Tom coughed into his hand. “Yeah, guys, I’m good.”

“I think you’re coming down with a nasty cough.” Ciara muttered.

“Yeah. It’s you guys. You’re too cute. You make me sick.” Tom laughed humourlessly for a short while, wanting to be that adorable with someone, maybe not anyone, maybe just with you someday. Then Tom shook his head, a bitter feeling in his throat as he yawned. “It’s the Browns game. I was yelling and screaming every time a quarterback got the ball. Of course I’m a little unwell. I’ll be good as new in a few days though.”

Ciara already knew Tom wasn’t playing a man with the healthiest of habits, but she worried that Tom was getting this bad this early. “Maybe you should talk to the first A.D. about reducing shoot days from five to three?”

Tom didn’t like the prospect of seeing you less. “Yeah.” Harry had a clapperboard between his hands, leading Tom’s eyebrows to furrow as his brother yelled something about it being take 13. “Maybe.”

Harry resumed to a new position in your chair, with you taking Harry’s place right across from Tom, a coffee waiting for him when the scene was over like Harry always did. Ciara’s boyfriend left the frame to watch supportively on the sidelines.

“Lights. Camera. Action!” Anthony called. “Time is money, you guys! Let’s try to get this one right this time.”

They’d been over this already twelve times today.

“Hey, I’m really happy you’re here.”

Ciara read her line back. “Why’s that?”

Tom could hear whispers of the crew, the sound guy glaring at them in case they were picked up in the scene, and he knew it had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t for some reason get the next line out all day. And that reason, unbeknownst to everyone, was because Tom couldn’t say something he didn’t mean - feeling like his heart was locked in a cage for which only you had the key. He looked past his co-star, Ciara, and up at you; feeling so close but you were far away, leaving him all day without anything to say. And overcoming his speechlessness and breathlessness, even in just that moment, he ran his hand over the rope to say, “Cause I like you. A lot.”

Ciara and the rest of the crew broke into a wide smile once Tom finally spoke his next line, but the only person Tom was focused on was you, who wasn’t smiling, but mouthing his words back to him.

Ciara breathed, “Shut up.”

And Tom’s sure to look you in the eye when he says, “I really do.”

When the filming for the day is said and done, Tom makes a beeline for you across the greenery. You hand over his coffee to him, “It’s a little cold now, but a warm hand is holding it.”

Tom quirks an eyebrow. “Are you inviting me to hold your hand?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You swapped jobs with Harry, I saw.”

“Yeah, well. It’s good he gets to grips with the job now. You know, in case anything changes.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket. “I should probably give you my number. In case anything changes.”

“Oh no, yeah. Your number is?”

“216-XXX-XXX. Speaking of changes, I heard you’re trying to get your days reduced.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Tom looks at your face that bears no trace of guilt. “You’re just like me!” He pulls you close.

“Tom, if what happened today is because you’re working too much, I’m happy to reduce your time.”

“Nah, nah.” Tom sniffles, rubbing his nose on a jacket probably worth more than your life. “I’m just a bit sick, s’all. I’ll be fine.”

Two weeks pass and Tom’s no better. With the Cleveland game nearly a month ago, Tom has nothing to blame and as first A.D., you’re obligated to reduce his hours. Tom’s on the phone with his mother when you approach his trailer.

“Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot. I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.”

You’re so quick to skip happily back to your trailer that you miss Harry calling out to his brother, he’s his protector now that his mother was countries apart. “Tom?” Harry starts.

Tom mumbles an ‘mhm’, hoping Harry would make it quick as he sees you FaceTiming him. If only his mother could see him like this. He’d get to call her tomorrow and tell her he’d called you for the first time yesterday, he could hardly wait to utter, 'I've finally found the missing part of me’. Harry sighs as the FaceTime ringing is relentless. Tom’s eyebrows threaten to meet in the middle of his face as he clutches onto his phone.

“Tom.” Harry begins. “Y/N is giving up assistant director.”

Tom’s really not sure where Harry gets the source of his information from, but he’s sure this isn’t true. He thinks you’d tell him before his brother if you were leaving the film behind, leaving him behind.

The film is due to move filming to Morocco soon, and Tom’s well aware that not all film crew joins them when production moves abroad, but to Tom, you’re an extension of this movie universe. And Tom refuses to leave the memories of you in this filming cycle. “How’d you know?”

“I’m taking over.” Tom’s screen lights up with the glow of your call, and as bright as it is, as bright as you are, as bright as your smile surely is on the other end of the phone call, Tom’s in his deepest darkest feelings wondering how he fooled himself into thinking romance could go right for him this time.

He’s going to Morocco. You’re not. You’re funny, smart, promising, beautiful. You’ll find someone good for you, a better pair by the time he’s back.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t work out, man.” Tom sulks in his bed, the light from your constant calls bleeding through his bed sheets. “I just wanted to warn you.” Tom nods, screaming into his pillow. Harry decides that’s his cue to leave, a glimmer of light from outside seeping through the crack of the door as Harry escorts himself. Tom musters all his might and courage to reluctantly answer your phone, the ear-to-ear grin he knows so well greeting him once again.

Suddenly, he forgot how to speak. Hopeless, breathless, couldn’t you see that?

“Tom?” You call out his name a few times before cutting straight to the point. “Do you like me?”

Tom shifts slightly but not enough to show that he’s alarmed. “Huh? Yeah, I like you.”

He sits up, but doesn’t reciprocate the outrageous smile you wear like a heart on your sleeve. Tom’s eyes are sunken, dark circles forming under his eyes where he and his disturbed character become one. You suddenly remember why you shouldn’t have run away so fast, perhaps Tom was overworking himself. He continues, “But I’m an emotionally unavailable hopeless romantic. So I wouldn’t waste your time on me.”

Tom can’t help the hurt in his heart when he sees your smile drop so suddenly, knowing it was earnest. “Tom, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, life is unfair. And I’m gonna quit while I’m ahead. We wouldn’t work out. And I like our friendship now. We should stay that way.”

You’re not convincing when you nod rapidly, not letting Tom see your face as you play with your fingers to avoid his gaze. “Yeah, I agree.” You’re much less convincing when the last frame Tom caught of you was a shot of tears dripping down your face, as three rings followed you. Tom’s screen went black in your absence, and Tom falls asleep with eyes even redder from crying, and he wonders when he’s gonna shake this sickness.

It’d been a few days since Tom had got his shots to allow him to go to Morocco. He sat opposite the doctor on set, a coffee cup placed on the desk between him.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. Shots always have their side effects, and he’d taken multiple shots in one day. And now, he specifically asked for you to hold his hand during the process, Harry branded in a glinting jaw-drop, only for you to leave directly after.

“I’m speechless, constantly feeling over the edge, breathless.” Tom explains his symptoms to the doctor. “At first I thought it was because of that stupid football game, then all the coffee I’m drinking, now I don’t know if it’s the shots. I feel like shit, doc.”

“I know exactly what you’re dealing with.”

“What?”

“Lovebug.”

Tom stares at the doctor in utter bewilderment. “You figured that out based on my symptoms?”

“I figured that out based on the puppy dog eyes you gave for your first A.D. when they left without a word.” The doctor begins to laugh softly, but Tom is unamused. How is he supposed to shake this illness after completely ruining your relationship? How is he supposed to mend your bond after talking so recklessly, so emotionally? “Tom, I’m not here to be a fairy godmother, I’m being strictly medical. At a certain point, what you feel in your mind affects your body. So I prescribe that you talk to Y/N and say everything you need to say.”

And while that seemed easy enough, Tom’s ego was at work again, and Tom was feeling far too bruised and wounded to speak to you first. Surely if you cared enough, if you liked him back, if you were willing to be distanced, you would reach out first.

It seems Tom’s pride had forgotten that you already did.

“I heard that this is the exact shit that happened in Cleveland, and he couldn’t get the line out.” Tom hears the whisperings from behind the camera, the amount of familiar faces in the crew dwindling after the change in location. He doesn’t respond. He waits for someone to take five. And when no one throws him a bone, he asks Harry to.

“Alright, everyone take five.”

“Someone get this kid a fucking coffee, he’s always on edge.” Joe instructs.

“And you think giving a kid in twenties coffee is taking him off edge?” Anthony chuckles.

Tom doesn’t care whether or not he gets the coffee, rocking side to side. He’s got all the motion for this role, but he feels nothing. All he felt was for you.

“Here.” Harry sets a Moroccan mint tea down next to Tom, hoping it would calm him down. When Tom takes a few sips, the look in his eyes is less pleading, and everyone’s ready to rumble, this being the last scene of the day.

Harry feeds Tom the line. “Baby, are you seeing bad things?” Tom is seeing bad things. A life without love, a life without you. Unable to contain it all, Tom turns his frustration into laughter. “Why are you calling me baby for, man?” Tom has this ear-to-ear grin but even he feels it's not as innocent, as genuine as yours. He never knew a smile so wide could be so full of pain.

“I have an idea.” Harry saunters off to collect his phone. “Don’t stop rolling the cameras.”

When Harry comes back, there’s sounds of shifting erupting from his phone. “Hi, Tom.”

Tom didn’t know it would be so bittersweet to hear your voice again. He wasn’t sure if he should put walls up again or if twice was the charm. Even if you worked out in the short term, whose to say Tom wouldn’t get hurt again? And Tom wouldn’t want to hurt you.

“Are they taking good care of you out there? I don’t think I took good care of you.” Tom doesn’t say anything on the other side of the line, so you continue. “I’m not a good A.D. if you’re always sick and tired, and I didn’t want to see you any less, which was selfish of me, so I didn’t change your schedule.” You sigh as you admit why you left. “When you asked, though, I swear I was gonna do it, but then I heard you liked me, and I got carried away. I had to remove myself from the situation to do what’s best for you. Do you understand me? I did it for you.”

“I, uh, I got a diagnosis.” Tom stumbles.

“Oh my gosh, are you seriously sick?”

“I’m speechless. Over the edge, breathless.” Tom laughed dryly, finally feeling like he can choose an ending.

“What did they say it was?”

“Lovebug.” Harry smiles softly at his brother.

Your laugh is like nectar entering Tom’s ear.

“I might just love you way too much, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you’re doin’ okay?” Tom tries his best not to sound dejected that you didn’t say it back, knowing he’s already felt the brunt of this heartache already.

“I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too. I love you.” Joe stops recording, and Harry lowly whispers ‘take.fucking.five.’ as he and the crew creep away from Tom’s new found love scene.

“Anthony, can I borrow your phone?” Harry begins to type Nikki’s number as soon as Anthony gives over the phone. “Mum, Tom just told the first A.D. he’s in love with them so guess who’s out of a job?”

Tom knows why he’s sick. He used to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound. Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour. But now, Tom has found you.

#tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland angst #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #lolbrosgetsicktoo

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alengmae · 3 years ago

Text

Every Story Is Us (CH 5)

(AN: I was convinced by Jess to post this here. IDK why Jess but you work in mysterious ways. To read this in AO3 and my other drabbles, visit here.)

“What you seek is seeking you.”

~Rumi

Penelope choked on her the tiny sip of wine she took. She started coughing but her date carried on like nothing was amiss.

“Yeah, you remind me so much of her. You should meet Mother. I just know she will love you,” he gushed further. He gave her an expectant grin.

She gaped at him in astonishment. They literally just sat down not fifteen minutes ago, yet he was already talking about her meeting his mother on their first date. She knew it was a bad idea to trust Eloise and Fran’s idea. Tinder dates were really not her style. And, based on her first date, she felt vindicated.

She was about to set the record straight when the server came to their table and took their order. She opened her mouth to speak but her date was a lot faster.

“She’ll have the Steak Diane. You don’t mind me ordering for you, right?” he asked as he turned to her.

Penelope was too dumbfounded to respond. He was hitting all her red flags and he was completely oblivious to her irritation, which was awfully apparent since the server’s professional smile turned into a wince. She only raised her glass of wine to the server, who understood immediately her need for more booze. If the server were considerate, she would bring an entire bottle for her.

“Oh and separate bill,” he added before explaining to her with a hint of condescension, “I like to go Dutch on the first date. You don’t mind, do you? Of course you don’t!”

Honestly, she didn’t mind at all. If anything, she would have insisted on it. She felt that he was the type to lord it over after dinner, expecting for something in return. But the way he went on another tangent about his mother, she just knew she was not going to last the appetizer course.

She cursed Eloise and Fran heavily in her head. They insisted she try out the app and look where it got her. She should have followed Daphne’s instructions, to never get caught up in her younger sisters’ shenanigans. As she listened to her date drone on and on, one thing became clear in her mind. She needed new friends.

Nay, better friends.

She just moved from Ireland to London for work. And she met Eloise, a fellow teacher, not too long ago and they clicked immediately. Soon, she was invited to all their brunches and dinners. She fell in love with her family instantly, all eight of them. Although, there was a Bridgerton brother she has not met yet. Seemingly, that Bridgerton was off traveling the world and was on a lengthy tour this time around. And, if he was anything like his siblings, she knew she would come to love him too. But, right now, that love she felt for all things Bridgerton started to wane. She said she didn’t want a date but no, Eloise and Fran had to drag her kicking and screaming into one.

She was pulled out of her reverie when her date grasped her hand. He gently caressed her with his clammy hand and she nearly shivered from disgust because why was his hand so wet?

“I just knew as soon as I saw your picture you’d be the one. Even mother said you’d be a good wife with your wide-set hips,” he beamed at her.

“Oh my god,” she gasped out loud. She tugged her hand back and excused herself to the restroom. She needed to get out of this date. Never in her life had she felt so uncomfortable. She frantically dialed Eloise to come save her but there was no reception at all. Her annoyance reached an all-time high. Was there a fucking signal blocker installed in this facility? She lingered outside the restroom, hidden by the stately plants decorating the restaurant, and repeatedly scrolled through her phone for a miracle. She was close to screaming in frustration.

It was then she felt a finger lightly poke her back. She swiveled around and saw the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. He was exactly her type: tall, dark and handsome. He was incredibly fit, and wearing clothes that highlighted his muscular body. He had on a sympathetic smile and lips that were begging to be kissed. Well, hello there. Maybe his attractiveness short-circuited her brain because she just stood there gaping at him like an idiot.

“Sorry,” he modestly started, “I couldn’t help but notice. Are you alright?”

Penelope nodded, heat spreading on her cheeks. She must have looked like a mad woman, pacing to and fro in front of the restroom. She smiled weakly at him.

“Are you sure?” He glanced in the direction of her date and she grimaced. Her date was openly picking his nose in public at the moment. Penelope had to close her eyes in an effort not to shudder in repugnance. “Anne told me you might need saving.”

She perked up at the name of her server. She might have found her salvation after all. “I…actually, I might,” she bashfully admitted. “I need rescuing from my date. It’s a Tinder date.” She felt the need to explain why. Obviously, this handsome man in front of her probably think she was crazy for going on this date in the first place. And, just in case he might be interested, she wanted to make herself appear saner.

“No worries. I’m your guy,” he reassured her. When he grinned at her, she swore it went straight between her legs. The pull of her attraction to him was insanely intense. She had never felt anything like this before with other men.

“Colin, by the way,” he held out his hand, which she met coyly. “Penelope.”

She marveled at how long his fingers were compared to hers, how rough his skin was against hers and how dry his hands was compared to her date. Her mind started to wander to more wanton thoughts as he shook her hand. His fingers should be illegal, she mused. When he let go, she already mourned the loss of contact.

“Alright, Penelope. I’ll be your knight in shining armor tonight,” he stated excitedly.

Ugh, and he’s charming too? How the hell was he real?

He urged her back to her date without a game plan, only a wink. She got too pre-occupied with said wink to even ask about how he planned on rescuing her. She reluctantly sat down across her date again.

“You sure took your time there,” her date stated said evenly. “I hate waiting. Be more prudent next time.”

She almost threw the basket of breadsticks to his face. Colin better come right away or else, she will stab the man in front of her in the eye with a breadstick. Before she could openly berate him, Colin marched to their table purposefully. He stopped with a loud dramatic gasp.

“Penelope, how could you?” he bellowed scandalously. “After ten years of marriage, this is what you’re doing?”

“What the fuck…” she mumbled in shock at his theatrical display. Her date appeared to be equally confused at the scene in front of them.

“And you left Colin Jr at home by himself to meet up with this man?” Colin continued his melodrama without pausing. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“Wait, you have a kid?” her date’s furious question jerked her from her bewilderment.

“I-“

“I thought you were a virgin!” he cut her off, for the nth time this night.

“That’s where you draw the line? Me not being a virgin?” her incredulous voice was shrill in affront.

Even Colin stopped with his dramatics with a revolted, “Dude.”

Thankfully, this was the moment her date decided to storm out. “Mother was right, after all. Never trust anyone from the internet,” he spat at her before he left.

Penelope hissed back, “It goes both ways!” She clutched her wine glass and chugged the contents in one go.

Colin took her date’s seat and stared at her, eyes twinkling in amusement.

She glared at him. “And you, Colin Jr really?” she asked with a huff.

“I got carried away. You should have seen your face!” He laughed out loud. But she had a sneaking suspicion that he planned it all from the start. She supposed, once that her outrage had passed, it was hilarious. She started giggling with him.

He was about to stand when the food came out, along with a bottle of wine. Penelope stopped him from leaving. “It’s a shame to waste all these food I’d end up paying for. And really want to thank you for saving me from that horrible date.”

He appeared hesitate so she added further, “After ten years of marriage, this is the least I could do.”

He laughed out loud again. It definitely was her libido acting up because she felt herself swoon slightly to his baritone laughter. She found herself wondering if he had a Tinder account. He gestured for her to pick which plate was hers. She gratefully took her previous date’s salmon dish and pushed the steak towards him. They ate, happily chatting about everything under the sun. He regaled her with stories of his vast travels, one story similarly exciting as the next. She offered her childhood tales from her Irish motherland. He started talking about his work, and how he just came back from Morocco after missing his boisterous family. And she started opening up about her insecurity of being in an unfamiliar country all by herself. He held her hand in consolation as she admitted succumbing to homesickness sometimes. He comforted her by recounting comical anecdotes from his travels.

If she was awestruck by his good-looks, she was even more enamored by his wit and sense of humor. He made her laugh so hard but he also made her think. There was nothing sexier than a sharp intellect. He was becoming more dangerous to her as more times passed.

They stayed together until it was closing time. And she barely noticed the passage of time. It wasn’t until Anne cleared her throat in front of them that they noted that they were the only patrons in the restaurant left. She awkwardly asked for the cheque but Colin stopped her.

“This one’s on me, Anne.”

Their server nodded and bid them a good night before leaving.

“What? Wait, Anne!” She tried stopping her but her pleas fell on deaf ears. “I was supposed to treat you,” she grumbled lightly to Colin.

He shrugged. “How can I ask the mother of my child, Colin Jr, to pay for our date?”

She paused, blushing profusely. “Even if she dared to date someone else tonight?” she teased playfully.

He leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “Even when she tried to date someone else tonight. And might I add, she looks absolutely lovely tonight.”

Smooth like fucking butter. Her face must be red as a tomato right now, she reckoned. “Well, Colin Jr’s dad is not bad looking either.”

He beamed at her. She wanted to look away because he was too beautiful, it’s just not right. But he gently grasped her hand and asked softly, “Can I have your number? I really liked our time together and I really like you.”

“I like you too,” she replied, breathless.

He started leaning towards her, eyes locked on her lips. She did the same, magnetically slanting her body closer to his. Just when they were a fraction of an inch away, the kitchen door busted open with Anne bustling out.

“Boss, do you want-oops! My bad!” She retreated as fast as she came.

Damn it, Anne! Her scowl must have been a sight since he started chortling. He kissed the back of her hand reverently after to assuage her.

“Wait, she said boss?”

It was his turn to be sheepish. “I own this place.”

She blinked. That explained his intervention. “I clearly chose the wrong place to cheat on Colin Jr’s father.”

“I don’t know. I thought you were at the perfect place and time. I think I’m plenty lucky tonight,” he said sincerely.

She didn’t think she should voice out that if he kept on being sweet like that, he will get even luckier tonight. She only replied, “I’m glad.”

She exchanged numbers with him eagerly before bidding him a good night. But before she could step out from the restaurant, he gathered her in his arms and crashed his lips against hers. And it was magic and satisfaction and bliss and release all rolled into one. She clung to him, desperate against the tide of overwhelming emotions. When his tongue slipped into her mouth, she was completely swept away. It felt as if she would come undone with just a flick of his tongue. When they broke apart, they were gasping for air and sporting giddy grins.

“Good night, Colin,” she called out sweetly.

“Good night, Penelope.”

She didn’t sleep at all that night. The butterflies in her stomach were too flighty. And her excitement could not be abated, even as she knew she was attending a Bridgerton brunch the next day. She was groggy when she came in but a smile could not seem to leave her face.

Eloise pulled her aside to interrogate her about her Tinder date last night but the flurry of excitement filled the room. Everyone was enthusiastic for some reason. “The long lost Bridgerton is finally coming home. The prodigal son has returned,” Eloise said wryly. But Penelope detected her friend’s delight beneath all the sarcasm.

“Oh, that’s good,” she could not help but mirror her friend’s pleasant demeanor. She was already riding the high from last night. Another cause for celebration was just the cherry on top.

“Yeah, apparently he came back yesterday from Morocco in secret so he could surprise us. But Hyacinth still can’t keep her trap shut, ruining the surprise.”

“Morocco?”

It was then that she heard a familiar voice bellow out his greetings. She whipped her head fast and her eyes met his across the room. It was cliché but she would swear to anyone who would listen that at that moment, time slowed down. When their eyes met, it felt like nothing else mattered. And her heart leapt in anticipation as he crossed the sea of people to meet her.

“Penelope?”

“Colin.”

“You two know each other?” Eloise asked, awed.

She smiled brightly, eyes locked onto Colin. “Of course! We’ve been married, what…ten years now?”

He snickered harder upon seeing everyone’s bewildered faces. “Colin Jr missed you last night.”

Eloise interrupted again, “Is he talking about his dick?”

Penelope chose to ignore her friend now that Colin intertwined his hand with hers. “Did he now? I should go visit him some time.”

“I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic with your visit.”

“So how does tonight sound?” she asked, playful in her inquiry but nervous with his answer.

He kissed the back of her hand sweetly. “Perfect. I know a place. They serve the best Steak Diane.”

She laughed.

#bridgerton #polin #colelope #polin fic #colin x penelope #horror dates #tinder date

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