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jumblejen · 2 years ago

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We Were Always Going to End Up Together - Ch 7

Suptober 22, Day 7: Fine Wine

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/106840401

(Or read from the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/106051008)

Dean wrapped the blankets around Cas’ shoulders a little tighter as they snuggled together on the couch. Dean had no idea exactly where all their clothes had ended up but it hardly mattered right this minute. Dean had had fleeting ideas of taking things slower with Cas, making sure to protect his heart a little before falling into bed with the guy, but all that got thrown out the window as soon as they had made it across the threshold of Dean’s apartment. Now cuddled on the sofa, sweat drying and both thoroughly sated, Dean pressed play on Galaxy Quest since it wasn’t that late and it was a great excuse for Cas to stay a little longer.

“I once dated a man who looked like Tim Allen,” stated Cas as the movie started and the actor appeared on screen.

“Oh God, it’s not me right?”

“No. You know you’re much better looking than him. Now shush.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyway, he told me that I was aging like fine wine.”

“That’s…. nice?”

“I was twenty-four. He was a year younger than me.”

Dean burst into giggles.

“He said many things like that. I started feeling like an old geezer.”

“How old are you now?”

“Nearly forty.”

“Ancient then.” “Don’t tell me you’re secretly still in your twenties? I can’t take being compared to moldering grapes again.”

“No, no. Thirty-five. So just a bit younger.”

“I guess that’s ok.”

“Did you want me to change it? I could easily pass for thirty-seven. Or even thirty-eight if I added a little gray to my temples.”

“Thank you,” said Cas with a kiss to Dean’s cheek.

“For what?”

“Letting me be absurd.”

“Dude…”

“And being absurd with me.”

“Is it that unusual?”

“Yes.”

“Even living with Gabe? He strikes me as a lover of the absurd.”

“Only when it’s his. As much as he cajoles me to join in, he wants me to be the serious one.”

“Why?”

“So he doesn’t have to be.”

“Makes sense. It’s sorta like me and Sammy, but he wants both of us to be the serious one.”

“Sam doesn’t like your jokes?”

“Nope. Plus he wants me to focus more.”

“On what?”

“I dunno. He makes lots of noises about preparing for my future and paying more attention to my career, but it’s all stuff that I just don’t care that much about.”

“What’s your career?”

“I don’t really have one. I do data work for a bunch of firms, but Sam wants to talk about my path and the next steps for me to ‘level up’.”

“Are there no steps?”

“Don’t care if there are. I like what I do. I work from home, have flexible hours, decent pay. I don’t want my whole like to be about getting ahead.”

“Sounds okay to me.”

“Says the man who is currently working as a corn maze landlord and sometime scarecrow performer.”

Cas raised his eyebrows at Dean.

“Sammy would not approve.”

“Does that bother you.”

“Nah. It used to. Busted up a pretty decent relationship I had a long time ago. Sammy’s just going to have to cope this time.”

“I like the sound of flexible.” Cas trailed a finger down Dean’s bare chest.

“Why Mr. Novak are you trying to seduce me?”

“I believe I am succeeding, not trying.”

“Watch your movie old man.”

They both stretched as the credits rolled. Dean was smiling happily to himself. Cas had laughed at all the best parts and the physical closeness felt a little like magic. It was easily the best first date Dean had ever had and he hoped there would be quite a few to follow. Dean shivered as Cas tossed the blanket aside and stood up, removing his warmth from Dean’s side. Definitely needed to have that body pressed against his again.

“Hey man, can I get your number? Assuming that Gabe was texting me with his…”

“Don’t you need your phone for that?”

Dean grinned. “I guess we better find it. Probably need to search the bedroom thoroughly.”

Dean’s eyebrow wiggle paired with what he hoped was a sexy pout made Cas chuckle darkly. “While I appreciate that idea, I should really get home.”

Dean tried to hide his disappointment behind a neutral face, but feared he was failing at that pretty spectacularly. “Yeah, sure.”

“I will make sure you have my number.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

They stared at each other, somewhat sappy looks on their faces before the chill in the air got them moving again. There was much unnecessary bumping and touching and small kisses as they made their way back to Dean’s bedroom, collecting bits of their belongings as they went. Dean fished his phone out of his pants pocket but opted to put on soft pajama pants and a tshirt instead of his previous outfit. Cas dressed with regrettable speed.

When Dean read out the number that had texted him asking for a date, they were both surprised that it was indeed Cas’ number and not Gabe’s.

“He must have texted you and then deleted the thread from my phone.”

“Maybe change your pin for your phone?”

“Definitely.”

Dean quickly sent a smiley face to Cas’ phone and then wasn’t sure what to say. Cas looked equally awkward with much shifting and fidgeting between the two of them. Finally Dean laughed at little at them both which seemed to break the tension.

“I suppose I’ll have to thank Gabriel.”

“Only if you want to take the high road.”

“Is that what you would do?”

Dean thought about that for a minute. “Probably not. Wouldn’t want anyone to start thinking I was a good guy or anything.”

Cas cocked his head at him and grabbed his hand. “I think you probably are a good guy.”

“Well, you haven’t known me very long.”

“Are you an axe-murderer?”

“Nah. Too messy. I prefer poison.”

“Typically thought of as a woman’s weapon.”

“Keeps people guessing.”

“Makes sense. Throw them off your trail.”

“Exactly.”

That bit of ridiculousness over, Dean and Cas stood there holding hands in Dean’s bedroom. He couldn’t quite get over how much he didn’t want any of this to end or even pause for a minute.

Taking a deep breath, Dean decided to risk some sincerity. “I had a great time tonight Cas.”

“So did I.”

“Can we do this again?”

“Which part?”

“All of it? Any of it?”

“Of course Dean. I’ll have more time after the maze closes, but we should still be able to find time to spend together.”

“Well, I mostly work a traditional nine to five schedule. I really want to see you again.”

Cas squeezed Dean’s hand. “Then you will.” Cas pulled Dean towards himself for a kiss. It took quite a bit of effort and many stops and starts before they finally made their way to Dean’s front door, the kisses getting shorter and shorter, hands still clasped together, neither of them in a hurry to actually say goodbye. They did though, finally, and with tongue until Dean was alone in his apartment, face flushed and heart happy.

#destiel #suptober22 #fanfic #fine wine #there's more kissing in this one #and references to galaxy quest #and general sweetness

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years ago

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What I Want Most - Five

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean’s life has been all work and no play lately. When Gabe, his friend, coerced him into tagging along to a club, he couldn’t say no as Gabe has been pestering him for a while now. What Dean didn’t expect was that he’d meet his match in that club in the form of a stunning woman with underlying daddy issues.

Warnings: Daddy kink (by now, this is a given), rivalry in the office, office sex, semi-public sex, blow job

Word Count: 1924

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

In the morning, Dean’s in their office, touching up his own presentation for tomorrow. He steals a glance at the clock, it’s almost 8.40 AM. It’s almost time for her presentation and Y/N’s still not here.

He wonders if he went too far.

Well, she still has about ten minutes before she has to be in the meeting room to set everything up. And if she’s not going to be here, he’ll make sure to waltz in there and bring up a sorry excuse to steal some time. He’s not a monster after all, it was just supposed to be a little prank.

Last night, after she fell asleep, Dean manipulated her alarm, setting the alarm later than she wanted to get up. Like, not too late that she’d miss the meeting, but late enough so that she won’t have a lot of time to get herself ready.

He set his own alarm and placed his phone under the pillow so he would wake up as soon as it started to vibrate. He did get up. Sneaked his way out of her apartment and left her there, still sound asleep.

Dean’s typing away at the email, it’s 8.47 AM now.

Three minutes until he has to save her ass.

That cute little sweet ass, though.

A minute later, the door opens and she’s looking at him. Her hair’s put together but there’s no trace of makeup. She also wears glasses, god and he didn’t even know this about her but fuck, she looks super cute with her glasses. These, paired with her being angry, is really what his librarian dreams are made of.

Maybe he could ask her to role play it once.

But yeah, maybe he could ask when she’s not mad at him anymore.

He ignores her, stares meticulously into his screen.

Walking in, she drops her laptop bag and pulls out her laptop wordlessly.

Dean risks a glance up, sees her staring at him. Her eyes are narrow.

He smirks, “You look worse for wear. Had a rough night, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you,” She mumbles and proceeds to walk to the door.

“Well,” Dean starts, but stops because she turns around and sends him a glare.

“I hate you so much right now,”

The door closes with a bang.

Oh well, this went super great. He doesn’t know if he should be scared that she’s so fucking mad at him or prank her some more because she’s so cute when she’s mad.

Oh my god, Y/N absolutely hates Dean fucking Winchester.

He made her late but he at least set the alarm early enough for her to be able to make it. But still... that doesn’t mean that he deserves a fucking medal, though.

The presentation went well, so at least she has that, but she’s still mad at him so if he wants to get his dick wet, he can find someone else. She’s so fucking done.

Back in the office, she is glad that Dean was out at another meeting, so at least she has a breather.

Dean showed up thirty minutes later with a cup of coffee for her and she doesn’t know but she has a very hard time trusting it. So she looks at the coffee and up at him.

“What?” He asks because she still hasn’t said a word, “You think I want to poison you or something?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” She shrugs and returns to her screen and types something on her keyboard.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” He growls and squats down next to her, “I’m sorry, okay? I thought a little competition is healthy. A little prank here and there. I wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize your career in any way,”

“I almost missed my meeting,” She said drily, trying not to look at him.

“Yeah! There you have it. Almost!”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but it doesn’t make it sound any better,”

“My god,” Dean threads his hand through his hair, “You know what? I’m done apologizing,” He walks over to his own desk and sits down, “They are singing your praises. I was in the elevator with one of the execs who was at your presentation. So, even though I made you late, I didn’t make you miss it,”

“It still doesn’t make it right, Dean,”

“Whatever,” He snorts and she can tell that he’s moping. He probably feels guilty.

Maybe she’s being too harsh. He played a prank, she played a prank, and he was right, it didn’t do a lot of damage but still…

It was about two hours of silent treatment later that she got up to walk over to the folder cabinet in search of a folder she needed, but she couldn’t find it. The space where it should be is empty.

Turning around, she sees that Dean’s using it. He’s probably working on the same thing as she is, which is due in the afternoon.

Y/N sighs and goes back to her desk, deciding to work on something else until he’s finished, but after thirty minutes have passed, he’s still hogging it.

“Jesus, are you done with the folder? It can’t be so hard to find the two numbers in there that you need, can it?”

He rolls his chair to the side to be able to look past his screen at her, “You need something, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, that damn folder! You’ve been hogging it for way too long,”

Dean cocks an eyebrow, “You want it?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I want your pussy but that’s not something I get tonight, do I?” He chuckles, “Sometimes we don’t get what we want, baby,” Getting up from behind his desk, Dean picks up the folder and walks over to her, “You can be glad I have a conference call with England now,” He sets the folder on her desk and walks back, nodding at her as he places his headphones over his head.

He’s probably trying to make peace and ugh, it’s almost impossible for her to stay mad. Damn him and his look and the way he talks and walks.

While Dean dials himself into the conference call, she quickly picks out the numbers she needs and returns the file back to his desk. He’s still listening in to the call but tilts his head up to smile at her. His teeth are showing white, the crinkles around his eyes are deep and god, he looks so cute with all the freckles on his face.

Returning to her seat, she listens in as Dean speaks. He’s really good at what he’s doing, and to be honest, she doesn’t even know if she’d have a chance against him. It’s a little disheartening thinking about it.

Y/N has to remind herself that it’s not really his fault. It wasn’t him who decided that he has to fight for a position that’s rightfully his. And he’s been helping a lot. At least, he did with the presentation she was having today. So, when it comes to him as a person, and when she puts the office rivalry aside, he is a good guy and she should definitely cut him some slack.

After finishing her report, she sees that the conference call should last another ten minutes. With a grin, she lowers herself under her desk and crawls over to where Dean’s sitting. Dean’s legs are spread and he drums on the floor with his shoe. He doesn’t know that she’s down here, but he will soon.

Placing her hands on his thighs, she can hear him mutter something and can feel his body go stiff.

“Yeah, I’m listening,” Dean mumbles.

With a chuckle, she skids her nails along his thighs, until she reaches his belt buckle and quickly undoes it, trying not to let it clink too loudly. Her fingers work on his button next, pulling the zipper down after.

Her hand goes inside his pants, takes out his dick that’s still soft but it twitches in her fist and it slowly starts to grow at her touch. Dean shudders when she breathes warm air against it.

“Jesus,” He whispers, “No, I’m sorry, just stubbed my toes,” He says above.

She has to chuckle at that and then she sticks her tongue out, licks a broad stripe from the base to his tip. Dean doesn’t make a sound, but his legs are slightly trembling. He’s probably trying to keep himself together.

Sucking in the tip of his cock, she lets it out with an audible popping sound. The taste of him is strong in her mouth. She absolutely loves how he tastes, it makes her mouth water some more.

The more precum is leaking out of him, the stronger his scent is and it fills her nose, clouds her mind. It’s fucking intoxicating.

Y/N takes him in her mouth again, bobs her head up and down and tries her best not to make too much of a sound. Dean’s saying something, but she doesn’t listen. She’s so into it that her mind tunes out all the other sounds and senses. All she feels and tastes is Dean.

With one hand she jerks him off where her mouth can’t reach in this position. With her other hand, she cradles his balls in her palms, giving them some attention and there might have been another moan.

Humming around his girth, she gobbles him down, sucks a bit harsher at the tip before she swirls her tongue around the underside of it before she takes him in again. It seems like Dean is close because his balls are jumping in her palm and he tries to fuck up into her mouth.

“Alright, thank you for your time, bye,” He finishes the call and she can hear how strained it sounds.

“Fuck,” Is the next thing she hears before she feels a hand on the back of her head, holding her down on his cock while he pushes his hips up to meet her mouth. He thrusts a couple of times and then she hears the familiar growl, feels the warmth of the cum flooding her throat and mouth.

She swallows it all down, licks at his tip and sucks at it again, making sure she catches every last drop. She cleans his shaft too, swirls her tongue around. When she finishes, she smacks her lips and Dean rolls his chair back, looks down at her.

He reaches out, his thumb caressing her cheek, before they brush over her lips, and she bites at it, making him chuckle, “Baby,” Dean’s still trying to catch his breath, “Fuck, was that to tell me you’re not mad at me anymore?”

Y/N nods.

Pulling her up by her arm, he places her into his lap and kisses her soft and gentle, “I’m glad. I could also fucking eat you up right now, but we know that’s not possible,”

“Well, you don’t know if you don’t try, right?” She grins.

“Don’t fucking tempt me. Otherwise, neither one of us will have a job by the end of the week,” He kisses her cheek before he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck. She feels him breathing in the scent of her skin, “I’m sorry about this morning, okay? It was just a silly prank,”

“I know,”

“Does that mean daddy can take you home tonight? Reward you for the good girl you are?”

She grins with a nod of her head.

Six

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#what i want most #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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whenimgoodandready · 3 years ago

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🎈🎊(party horn blows🥳) Hello everyone! Welcome to the 💯th episode of “Miraculous Ladybug”! (cheers and applause as marching band music plays)🎊🎈We’ve come a long long LONG way to see what they had cooked up for us as this ep was the grand daddy of all epic proportions that was a “must see” for everybody to-Oh f**k this sh*t! (cheers, applause and music dies out) It’s really nothing special! We’re almost to the season finale and is this really gonna change anything!? NO! Do you know why!? Read this:

*Ephemeral-Bob Roth is akumatized as a flying money stealing gold safe named Moolak (huh, I was hoping for a more King Midas theme) and Ladybugs got Team Miraculous on her side with Viperion, Vesperia, Pigella, Ryuko, Purple Tigeress, Pegasus-Hey! Wait a minute! Where’s Cat Noir!? Oh he’s at a press conference interview in place of his father? Why can’t he just make an excuse and leave? Hmmm, Gabe was doin’ that ring twisting thing again (“Mega Leech”) and he gave Adrien specific orders which he obeyed without complaint. Suspicious🤨.

Ladybug (miraculously) defeats the villain anyway without Cat Noir, even if it did take forever, and Su-Han, the celestial guardian whom we last saw way back in “Furious Fu”, was outraged that Ladybug used up nine miraculouses for the mission when all she really needed was Cat Noir! She explains again how she doesn’t know Cats identity to call him up since it’s too dangerous for both of them to know each other’s identities cuz theirs are the most important miraculouses, but Su-Han doesn’t give a f**k and says to find out or there’ll be a new black cat miraculous holder.

I’d go on and say what happens next, but I’ll leave that in the end, so I’ll just say how I usually end with these things by saying who the villain-of-the-week was and in this case, it was Ephemeral. What does Ephemeral mean? Sounds like a medical term. It however means, “short lived”. What kind of power would that be? Ah! Yes! Speeding up time to shorten it and get the job done! Like how they did with using up Ladybugs miraculous timer and having her revert back as Marinette! Damn! That’s scary! Oh! By the way, the akumatized victim was Adrien! Don! Don! Don!

Bomb #22………..can I really say there was a “bomb”!? I mean, as ecstatic as we were for this ep, it didn’t really do much (makes a horse sigh). You guys remember “Oblivio”? With the memory loss reveal? You remember “Cat Blanc”? With the time traveling reveal too? Well, this ep was their baby! Both had the same concept:identity reveals, time traveling, the apocalypse! The yoozh. I know how that song goes, it’s the same thing: the dynamic duo would be happily dating if they found out their identities and loving both sides of one another, but the down side is the villain is related to one of them and Gabe/Shadow Moth disregards his own sons feelings for his own personal benefit and cuz Adriens (possibly) a sentimonster he (Shadow Moth) can control and the world would go💥Kaboom!💥, so everything goes back to normal and thus we can’t have a reveal yet until the villain is no more! What the Hell was I getting hyped about!? We got back to status quo FOR THE THIRD TIME IN A ROW! WHERE THE REVEAL DID NOT STICK! :P. It’s like-like, like those false blow out candles! No matter how many times you blow, it won’t, AND WILL NEVER, go out! UGH! (groans, but calms down) However, there were certain things that reminded me of its good qualities of the identity reveal. For starters, we know that the love square is endgame and that both halves of the heroes will still love one another’s halves and be happy ⊹ ⋆ﾟ꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹. Marinette/Ladybug was at first conflicted over which side of her secret crush she loved first:flirty, goofy and pun making Cat Noir or calm, cool and collected Adrien (she never ever thought in her right mind that Party Animal Cat Noir could ever be Saint Adrien Agreste!), but with advice from Luka (who secretly knows both their identities), still accepted him as Adrien/Cat Noir did when she revealed herself and to her joy, there was no rejection💖. Second, as sucky as it is that Gabe/Shadow Moth will eventually find out about their identities, it was brilliant how he figured it out by overhearing Adrien calling Marinette “M’lady”. Nobody, but Cat Noir says that to nobody, but Ladybug! The sad part is, just like from “Cat Blanc”, Gabe/Shadow Moth puts his needs over his own sons and isn’t afraid to use him for his advantage! Worst. Dad. Ever! What’s scarier is if Adrien is in fact a sentimonster, and maybe that ring is an amok, Adrien can’t fight back to save himself or anyone else cuz his father is his string master! Not to mention, like before, preventing Armageddon is futile! Don! Don! Don! Lastly, as annoying as it is that everything goes back to square one (what with the whole time traveling and that satellite thing I didn’t understand cuz I’m not so into science, but props to those of you that got it), Marinette, in her most desperate hour of need, contacted the only other boy she trusts with her life:Luka Couffaine💙. Thanks to him, he ended up saving the whole world!👏👏👏. All in all, we’re lectured on the pros and cons of the identity reveal again and all the creative ways to destroy and fix it, but next time, for the love of God! LET IT BE CONSISTENT!!! Thank you!😊.

#miraculous ladybug #ephemeral #miraculous ephemeral

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puckinghell · 5 years ago

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Almost | Nathan MacKinnon

Summary: Every time Nate doesn’t tell you he loves you, he almost does. Until the clock suddenly starts ticking, and almost might not be enough. Words: 5.3k Note: I wrote this all at once and I couldn’t be bothered to read it after to make sure it made sense so excuse me if it doesn’t. We’re in the midst of a global crisis, I couldn’t buy potatoes in the supermarket cause it’s empty, and I don’t have my emotional support dumbass hockey boys, so you can imagine the emotional distress I’m under.

---

Nate isn’t very good at flirting.

He knows that, and he’s known that for a long time. Not only because he’s got pretty good self-insight, but also because his teammates have been telling him for years.

In fact, the first time he went out with Tyson, back when he just came onto the Avs and going out was a big deal to him, Tys shook his head and said: “If you don’t learn how to flirt you’re gonna end up dying alone. With a Cup and enough gold to drown in, but alone.”

Nate loves Tys to death, but he still thinks about that night sometimes and wants to kick Tys in the shin.

Because as much as he’s bad at flirting, he never really thought it was a problem. Surely one day a girl would come into his life and she’d like him so much she would do the heavy lifting, and he could just kinda cruise along. Or maybe one day, when the right girl would come into his life, it would all be easy, suddenly.

Except.

He’s pretty sure that you are the right girl. He has been sure about that for the past two years, ever since you became friends. And yet, you’re still friends. Just friends.

Nate thinks he kinda accidentally put himself in the friend zone. At first he thought it was fine if you were just friends, because it would grow into something more naturally.

But one day Gabe turned to him solemnly and said: “Once she’s put you in the ‘Don’t go there’ part of her brain, you’re not coming out of there, bro.”

He’d waved Gabe off, but now he’s starting to think Gabe was right.

Because in the beginning, sometimes, you’d look at him a certain way, or you’d say something, and Nate was certain you meant it in a flirty way. Was sure he saw his own feelings reflected in your eyes. But those times became less and less frequent and now, he can’t remember the last time you looked at him like that. He only knows that you talk to him about dates you go on, like it doesn’t break his heart to think about you with someone else. And you wrap your arms around him so easy and comfortably, like the butterflies in his stomach when you touch him have no right o be there. And you ask to sleep in his bed with him after late movie nights like the thought of it ever being anything more than sleeping has never entered your mind. Nate thinks maybe he’s missed his window, but he also can’t imagine not ending up with you. So he starts his quest of getting you to notice him in a different way.

It’s shortly after he made that decision that he’s finding himself in Gabe’s backyard, a bottle of beer in his hand as he stands next to EJ who is grilling steaks on the barbecue. Gabe’s summer barbecue is somewhat of a staple, for the Avs, and if he thought that having a baby would mean Gabe’s parties would come to an end, Nate was wrong. Gabe flutters through the backyard with Linnea on his arm like he’s never done anything else. He switches his own beer bottle with Linnea’s bottle of milk – or whatever she’s drinking – between people he chats to, and before too long he shows up next to Nate and EJ. “Looking good,” Gabe whistles, looking at the grill. “Nate, are you staring at Y/N again?” Nate swirls around to face his captain; he hadn’t even noticed he was staring at you, but perhaps he was, because he knows you’ve been talking to Josty for the past 15 minutes and he’s not entirely happy about the way Josty leaned into you while he laughed at something you said. “It’s too late, bud,” EJ says, his signature toothless grin appearing. “You’ve waited too long and now she’s going to think you mean everything in a friendly way.” “That’s not true!” Nate starts protesting, even though he knows EJ is just trying to rile him up; but he can’t really make his point because you choose that moment to come over to them. “Are you still not done?” you tease EJ, playfully bumping against his shoulder. “I’m hungry, EJ, can you not grill a little faster?” “Grilling is like art,” EJ grumbles, “you can’t rush it.” “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,” you answer, your voice filled with fondness. “Ah, there’s Linnea! Can I hold her?” You make grabby hands at the baby and Gabe easily passes her to you, which, honestly, rude. “You never let me hold her!” Nate sputters, and Gabe shrugs. “That’s because Y/N is responsible and you killed the only succulent you had in your house.” “A succulent is not the same as a baby. I could take care of her.” Nate feels extremely offended, even more so when you giggle. “No offense, but if I had to pick someone to take care of Linnea, it would be Y/N, then Colin, then literally anyone else, before it would be you,” says Gabe. “Even Josty?” Nate whines, and at that moment, Mel steps in next to Gabe, putting her hand on his back. “Are we letting Tyson take care of Linnea?” she asks. “Absolutely no way,” Gabe is quick to answer, and you suppose it’s a good thing Josty isn’t here to hear that. “I was just saying I would let Y/N take care of our little girl.” “Oh, would you?” Mel excitedly grasps your shoulder. “Gabe and I haven’t had a date night in like, months! “Sure, I’d love to,” you answer truthfully. You slide your finger into Linnea’s hand, the baby making excited gurgling noises as she clasps down on it. She’s stronger than she looks. “Can I come?” Nate says suddenly. His cheeks are a little tinted, even though it’s not that warm outside anymore. “It could be like, a babysitting date.” “Oh, of course!” you answer. “That’s a perfect idea, Nate! Mel, we should set up a play date for Linnea with my sister’s baby!” You ignore EJ’s cackling laugh and what sounds like a low groan coming from Nate, instead follow Mel to the porch with Linnea in your hands to plan the play date. EJ slings his arm around Nate, grinning a little wickedly as he says: “So close, Nathan. Almost got her.”

Nate elbows him in the stomach loud enough to earn a disapproving tut from Gabe.

Nate tells Sid about his plan during their monthly FaceTime session. “Good luck with that, dude,” Sid says, and it doesn’t even sound that condescending, coming from him. “What do you think I should do?” Nate knows asking Sid for advice on flirting is like asking a blind man for advice on how to see, but he’s getting desperate and he really, really doesn’t want to have to ask Tys. He’d never live that one down. “Uh,” Sid answers, and that’s about as much as Nate was expecting from him, anyway. “Maybe ask her out to dinner, or something?” Actually, that’s more than Nate was expecting from Sid, because that’s actually not the worst idea. Sure, you’ve gone out to dinner together many times, but it was always very clearly not a date setting; either the other guys were there, or it was at a MacDonalds – Nate doesn’t like to go to junkfood places, but he supposes if Tys was gonna leave any imprint on him, it would be his love for McFlurry’s – or it was just dinner at his apartment, wearing sweatpants and ordering Chinese while watching some dumb Netflix show. His chance to ask you comes quicker than he thought, because he’s still talking to Sid – about hockey, this time, something Sid does actually have great advice on – when you come barreling into his apartment. Your hair is wet from the rain and you shrug off your rain coat with a wave in his direction. “It’s pouring,” you tell him, “and I walked to work, so.” To anyone else, it would be a bad explanation, but it’s not the first time you’ve showed up at Nate’s apartment like this. You like to walk to work when it’s not too cold but sometimes the weather surprises you and you don’t want to walk back in the rain or the wind. Nate’s apartment is a lot closer to your work than your apartment, so it’s become a habit of yours to go to Nate’s on days like that and just hang out in his apartment until you either fall asleep there or Nate offers to drive you home. “Is that Y/N?” Sid asks. “Hey, Y/N!” “Hi Sid!” you call back. “Nate, I’m gonna shower.” “Ask her,” Sid says, which is very pushy for Sid, who usually never tells Nate to do anything, instead just says “If I were you, I would consider” and let Nate figure out the underlying message. “Ask me what?” you ask Nate curiously, eyeing him up and down. He’s glaring at Sid as if Sid said something wrong, and when he looks at you, he doesn’t quite catch your eye. “I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me?” Nate asks. It’s a bit of a formal question for something you do at least once a week, but you shrug it off; Nate is a bit weird, sometimes, and you’re used to that. “Sure,” you say. “Let’s order Thai. Get my usual while I’m showering? I’m hungry.” Then you yell: “Bye Sid!” before making your way to the bathroom. Nate lets out a frustrated sigh and Sid sounds sympathetic when he says: “Almost there, dude. Just, next time, if I were you, I’d consider…” Nate is already not listening anymore.

Today is the day, Nate has decided. He bought roses, which EJ told him is lame and Gabe told him is great idea, and he cooked pasta, for which he used Sammy’s recipe. He’s not a good cook, but Sammy promised it’s impossible to mess up, and he thinks he did alright. He texted you this morning to ask you to come to his place for dinner. You replied with a sure :) and Nate takes that to be a good sign. He has a plan. When you walk in, he’ll take your coat, instantly changing the routine between you, because he normally stays on the couch when you open the door with your key. He won’t be wearing sweatpants, either, not even if he expects you might be; he’s wearing black jeans and a nice button up, and he’s even done his hair. Well, made an attempt to; it didn’t really work out and now it looks kinda the same as always, but hey, he’s really trying, here. Next, he’ll lead you to the table, which he’ll actually have set up, and at that point, surely you understand something different is happening, because a set up table is so different from his normal paper plates and Netflix. Then he’ll give you the roses and confess his feelings. He’s not really thought that part through too much, because every time he thinks about it he almost throws up. So. He’ll have to wing that. The problem, Nate finds out, with planning everything to perfection, is that when one thing goes wrong, the entire plan has to go out the window. Because half an hour after you were supposed to arrive, he gets a text saying sorry I’m late! Be there in 10 and he knows he’s gonna have to reheat the pasta, which Sammy said was not the point of pasta. But he’s not gonna kick off and cause a scene when you arrive, because he reasons it doesn’t really matter, in the grand scale of things. So he sits on the couch and waits. Finally, the door swings open and Nate jumps to his feet, ready to take your coat from you. Except, you’re not wearing a coat; you’re wearing his old hoodie and for some reason his breath hitches in his throat and suddenly he feels like his feet are nailed to the floor, unable to move. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” you call, basically running further into the apartment. “I came from the gym and let me tell you, I have got great news!” “News?” Nate echoes. You stop right in front of him, your eyes shining and a bright smile on your face. Suddenly, you lift an eyebrow, eyes catching on something. “Nathan MacKinnon, did you do something to your hair?” Before Nate can answer, you shrug and continue. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Guess what happened at the gym!” “What?” Nate seems to only be able to repeat what you say, so he decides to stick with that. “I got asked on a date!” Nate thinks if he had one wish, he would wish for the floor to open up beneath his feet and for him to sink through the building, all 7 floors below his apartment, and then down into the ground, until he could bury himself in the dirt. “A date?” You’re so hyped you don’t even notice your best friend is simply repeating your words, barely reacting in any other way. “He’s so hot, this guy, Nate! He comes to the gym every Thursday, just like I do, and we never talk but sometimes I catch him looking, and like, I look back, you know? And today he came over and he asked if I wanted to get a drink, but obviously I had plans with you and I would never blow you off, so I said we could do it tomorrow. I have a date tomorrow, Nate!” In your excitement, you reach forward and wrap your arms around Nate, pressing your face into his chest. His heart is beating fast, and you notice that he kinda just remains frozen into place, so you look up at him with a frown. “Nate? You okay?” That seems to shake Nate from his trance, as he literally shakes himself out of it and slowly puts his arms around you. With a happy sigh, you allow yourself to sink into the embrace. “What are we eating, anyway? I’m hungry.” Nate praises any and every God there could possibly be that he decided to leave the door to the dining room closed. “Whatever you want, we can order,” he answers. “I’m just gonna, uh, get changed.” “I thought you looked fancy,” you grin, letting go of him and dropping onto the couch. “What about Italian?” Hours later, Nate throws away the empty pizza boxes and puts the roses in the bin with them, and then he goes to his bedroom to scream into a pillow. He wants to call you, wants to ask you to not go on a date with that guy. But then he thinks about how excited you looked and he doesn’t call. He doesn’t call, but he almost does, and he thinks that’s a pretty good way to describe how his life is going.

Nate has truly hit rock bottom, which is why he’s scrolling through his phone until he finds the familiar name. “Dogggg!” Tys yells into the phone, because he can never answer the phone like a normal person. “I’m baking chocolate chip cookies!” And Nate is suddenly a little overwhelmed with how much he misses his best friend. “Baking?” he teases. “What kinda mental breakdown are you going through this time?” “Hey, fuck you,” Tys says, but he sounds mellow and not bothered at all. “What’s up?” And Nate has been planning to ease into this conversation, have a little small talk, maybe talk about Toronto and how the coaching change has been working out for Tys, but Tys is his best friend – apart from you – and suddenly he can’t keep it to himself anymore. “I’m in love with Y/N,” he blurts out, and he hears a clank on the other side of the line that sounds suspiciously like Tyson dropping a spoon. “Well, yeah,” Tys comes back, a little too calmly for Nate’s liking. “But I meant like, what’s up with you that’s new, Dogg.” “I need to do something about it,” Nate says, and that seems to get Tyson’s attention, cause he suddenly sounds a lot more interested when he says: “Oh?” “Cause like,” Nate starts, and he knows he’s about to start rambling. “Cause I’m so into her, you know, and I have been for so long, but I don’t think she sees me that way? And maybe if I would’ve done something sooner, she would’ve thought of me as an option, and she wouldn’t be going out with that guy right now..” “Wow hold up,” Tyson interrupts. “Wait, she’s got a boyfriend?” “No!” The force with which that word erupts from Nate’s mouth is maybe a little too telling, cause Tyson immediately goes into ‘calm down Nate’ mode. “Hey, hey, it’s just a date or two, right?” he soothes. “It’s totally not serious yet. And you and her, you’ve got history, dude. She loves you! There’s still time!” “What if she doesn’t love me in that way, though?” Nate asks, and he hates how tiny his voice sounds. “Then she’s got no taste, Nate,” Tyson says, awfully genuine. “You’d be an awesome boyfriend. Hell, you’ve basically been her boyfriend, you two act like a couple all the time.” Nate hadn’t thought of it like that. “Cause like, you’re always hanging out together, right?” Tys continues. “And you bring her to all your events as your plus one. She cooks you dinner at least once a week. You pick her up and drop her off when it’s raining and she doesn’t wanna walk. You always get her a Christmas present. She even bakes your favorite cookies when you’ve had a tough game.” He sounds slightly jealous when he says: “Cookies, bro! That’s true love.” And, well, Nate had always thought that was just a friend thing, but when he thinks about it, he doesn’t really treat any of his other friends that way. Has never picked up his phone at 4 am because Sid was calling, never ran a bath for Tys after a long day. Maybe, in a way, he has been acting like your boyfriend. Except. “We don’t kiss and stuff, though.” Tyson laughs. “And stuff. I bet you want the stuff, huh, bro?” “Shut up,” Nate grumbles, but he’s too thankful for Tyson’s input to put much heat behind it. “Brutes, what do I do?” “You need to complete the package, Dogg,” Tys says, sounding confident. “You’re almost her boyfriend. Now go get that kiss and be it for real.”

Nate is not usually a big drinker, but this, he needs to be super, super drunk for. “Careful,” Burky says, as he watches Nate slam back another shot. “That’s a lot of alcohol, Nate.” “You gonna call Gabe on me?” Nate says, defiant, and Burky shrugs. “No, but if you need to be carried home, I’ll get Z to do it.” That’s enough for Nate to not order another shot right away. “He’s upset because Y/N is here with a guy.” It’s Comphy who speaks, in a dull tone like he’s talking about the weather. Josty, who is with them too, sits up a little straighter. “She came with a guy?” “Shut up,” Nate all but growls. “I didn’t know when I invited her the invitation would be extended.” He really hadn’t; he’d asked you to come out with the boys after the game because he found out you were bringing the guy – Nate purposely forgets his name every time – and he figured he was running out of time. At least if he kept you out all night you couldn’t go home with the guy, and he might find the courage to tell you how he feels. Except then you’d shown up with the guy in tow, and now he’s wondering if it’s possible to drown himself in tequila. He must’ve looked properly miserable for the guys to crowd around him like they are; Gabe went home because he’s a dad now, but Comph and Josty and Burky are all sitting with him, refusing to have fun now that their assistant captain looks ready to commit a crime, and Z and EJ both keep shooting worried glances his way. Nate really doesn’t care. What he cares about is that you’re with with a guy that’s not him, and you’ve barely paid attention to him. He’s just about drunk enough that that annoyance is starting to become unbearable, and just drunk enough that it seems like a good idea to do something about it. “Nate, no…” Burky starts, when Nate stands up, and Comphy reaches for him, but even drunk Nate is quicker than them and he starts pushing his way through the crowd, to where you’re standing with the guy and laughing at something he’s saying. You feel two strong arms wrap around your waist, the grip almost too tight as you’re pushed flat against a muscular chest. For a second, you freeze, ready to fight, but then you smell familiar cologne and you recognize the arms that are wrapped around you in iron grip. “Nate?” you say. “Everything okay?” Nate hums in your ear but it’s not really words; just a low hum that makes something tingle in the pit of your stomach. If only Tom knew the effect Nate has on you, he probably wouldn’t be here. As it is, Tom’s eyes are wide as he stares at Nate. You did tell him you knew people on the team and that’s why you could get tickets to the Avs game so last minute, but you’d forgone the mention that your “contact” is Nathan MacKinnon; for some reason, you didn’t really want those worlds to mix just yet. Maybe that’s why you’d been keeping your distance from Nate, tonight. Normally, Nate isn’t the kinda guy to come chasing you down, but you can smell the alcohol on his breathe and his words slur a little when he says: “Where have you been?” Your heart starts beating a little faster. “Here,” you say, trying to ignore the dark tone to Nate’s voice. To say you’re confused in an understatement: Nate sounds almost angry, but he’s clinging to you like he’s not ever letting you go, so surely he can’t be angry at you. You wish Tom wasn’t here. If you’d been alone, you would’ve dragged Nate outside and talked to your best friend, figured out what’s bothering him, because it’s clear there’s something and you don’t like knowing that he’s carrying it alone. Nate has a tendency to carry the entire world on his shoulders, on his own, even when there’s so many people who would share the burden with him. “Dude,” Tom says, “you’re Nathan MacKinnon!” You feel Nate tense behind you. You know he doesn’t like to be recognized in public spaces but honestly, Tom didn’t speak loudly, and he’s not making a scene, so you wiggle out of Nate’s hold and put your hand on his arm.

Usually, that calms him down. “Yeah, Tom, this is my friend Nate. Nate, this is Tom.” Nate’s face is schooled into perfect indifference as he shakes the hand Tom holds out to him; the only thing betraying that he’s annoyed is the fact that his other, free, hand is balled into a fist and his knuckles are white. “Good to meet you, man,” Tom says. “That was such a nice goal there in the 2nd, holy shit dude! I’m like, such a big fan of you!” You cringe a little as Nate narrows his eyes. “Thanks,” he says, and he could not sound more bored if he tried. Even Tom shifts on his feet and nervously looks towards the floor. Then Nate’s hand finds its way to your lower back, his thumb dipping under your shirt. You feel like all the blood is rushing through your cheeks, and when Tom frowns, you feel like you could pass out. “Nice to meet you,” Nate says, in a tone that makes it clear he’d rather undergo a colonoscopy than ever speak to Tom again. “But can I borrow my girl for a second?” My girl? “Nate, what the…” you sputter, but you’re already being pushed through the crowd towards the exit, and before you know it you’re standing in a dark alley with your back to the brick wall of the club. Nate is standing close, so close you can feel his breath against your cheek when he exhales. His eyes are big and a bit wild, and you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat as clearly as you can. “Nate…” You mean to ask him what’s going on, but for some reason his name comes out of your mouth in a quiet rush of air, and it seems to do something to Nate, who inhales sharply and drops his head a little, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I hate it,” he mutters, the words soft enough that you can only make them out because it’s just the two of you in the silent outside air. “Hate what?” “Seeing you with him.” Those words hit you like a freight train, and all you manage to bring out is a soft “uhm”. “I can’t watch you with him,” Nate whispers. His hands are against the wall but his chest is pressed up against yours, and slowly but surely, he’s leaning in. And that’s when you realize, oh. Nate is going to kiss you. To your own surprise, that doesn’t shock you. It’s not some big thing that throws the world of its axis, that shakes the ground beneath your feet. It’s just a realization and then a soft, warm feeling of comfort spreading through your body. You want him to kiss you so badly, but it’s not like something is exploding, knowing that he wants it too. Instead, it’s like something finally falls into place.

“Y/N?” a voice goes, and you almost whine out loud. Nate jumps back like he’s been stung. He stares at you with wide eyes, the color drained from his face, and then he turns around and all but runs away. Tom watches him leave, then faces you, and in that moment you know four things absolutely certain. Nate was jealous. You’re never going to go on another date with Tom. Nate almost kissed you. And almost wasn’t enough.

Nate wakes up with a banging headache, the taste of dirt in his mouth and 20 missed text messages. Most of the messages are from Tyson, and there’s one from EJ, who is apparently the one that told Tyson about last night in the first place, because his text simply reads: Had to tell Brutes. You need help. Which is probably fair enough. There’s a text from Josty offering support, one from Burky asking if he got home safe, one from Gabe that Nate doesn’t read because he doesn’t want to see Gabe’s disappointed face every time he closes his eyes for the next few days, and then there’s a text from you. We have to talk. Well, fuck. Nate doesn’t have a lot of experience with relationships, but he knows that’s never a good sign. Nate knows that you know him well enough to have figured out that he was drunk last night, so you probably don’t expect him to be up yet. He takes advantage of that time by taking a shower and brushing his teeth at least four times until he can no longer taste the tequila in the back of his throat, making a cup of coffee and having a freak out at his kitchen counter because surely you’re going to tell him to never talk to you again. Not only did he not have the balls to tell you how he feels about you, he also acted like an asshole to a guy you apparently like – although Nate has no clue why, because he seemed boring as hell – and then he nearly kissed you but instead ran away. Not a great track record. It’s nearly noon when he finally gathers up the courage to call you. After all, you’ve given him two years of friendship, so that’s the least he can do. “Hey,” he says softly into the phone when the connection clicks through. “It’s Nate.” “I know,” you answer, and he’s surprised by how light your tone is. “I have caller ID, Nate. Have had it for years.” It throws him off, how normal you sound. There’s nothing in your voice to betray that you’re mad at him, or that you hate him. He almost forgets what he was going to say. Almost, but not quite. “I’m really sorry about last night,” he blurts out. “Do you mind if I come over so we can talk about it?” “Uhm,” you hesitate, and Nate’s heart sinks into the pit of his stomach. “Actually, I’m almost at your apartment.” “Oh.” Nate had not expected that. “Uhm, okay. I’ll be here, then.” You laugh. “Yeah, I hoped you would be. See you in a bit, Nate.” It takes you another 6 minutes to arrive; Nate knows it’s exactly 6 because he stares at the hands of the clock while he waits, while simultaneously thinking of all the possible scenarios in which you could break his heart. When you walk into the kitchen, he feels like he’s about to throw up. “You don’t look great,” is the first thing you say to him. “Have you had breakfast? You know hangovers get worse when you don’t eat.” And that’s... Not quite what Nate was expecting. “Yoohoo, Nate?” You wave your hand in front of his pale face, as Nate stares at you and doesn’t speak. “Are you okay?” “You hate me,” Nate blurts out then, and instantly his eyes fix on the floor in shame. “Or, you should.” You frown. “Why? Because you were a jealous dick last night?” Nate’s face turns from white to a bright shade of pink. You smile, walk to Nate who’s sitting on a barstool at the counter, and carefully push open his knees, so you can slide in between his legs. If Nate’s eyes go any wider, you worry they might fall out. “Last night,” you repeat, “you were jealous. Of Tom.” It’s not a question, but Nate still nods, avoiding your eyes as he does. “And then you were going to kiss me.” Not a question either, and this time Nate doesn’t respond. “Nate,” you say softly, and the warmth in your tone must be what finally gets Nate to look up at you, his eyes locking with yours. “Do you still want to kiss me?” “I do,” Nate says. His voice is a little shaky but he needs to get this out, because he needs you to know this. “I always want to kiss you.” “Why haven’t you?” you ask. The answer is not really an answer, but it means everything anyway. “I almost did,” Nate says. “So many times, Y/N. So many times I almost did.” “Almost, almost,” you repeat, rolling your eyes, and then you slide your hands behind Nate’s neck and kiss him. He almost stumbles, his hands gripping your waist as if he’s afraid he’ll fall right onto the floor if he doesn’t have something to hold onto. But he’s kissing you back right away, his mouth soft yet forceful at the same time. Like he’s never going to stop kissing you. You don’t think you ever want him to.

It’s late at night and the streets of Denver are quiet beneath Nate’s apartment. He’s laying on his back and you’re draped across his chest, naked bodies tangled together under the sheets. He’s not sure if you’re asleep; your breathing is shallow and even, but every now and then your fingers tighten around where they’re wrapped around his arm, and he wonders if you’re dreaming, or simply checking if he’s still there. As if he would ever leave. Nate can’t help himself; he lightly presses his lips against your hair, the ghost of a kiss against your skin. You hum softly. “Nate?” “Yeah,” he whispers. “It’s me.” A lazy giggle escapes your lips. “Thank God it’s not someone else.” The silence returns, but this time it’s heavy with something Nate knows you’re not saying. “What are you thinking about?” he mumbles, tracing circles on the naked skin of your back. Your answer shakes something inside of him. “That I almost didn’t get to have this.” He thinks of all the times he almost said something to you but didn’t, and curses himself for all the time lost. “Almost didn’t, but we did, and that’s what matters, right?” he speaks into the darkness.

You smile.

You know you’re not dreaming, but you almost can’t believe you aren’t.

Almost.

#nathan mackinnon #colorado avalanche #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl imagines

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trillian-anders · 5 years ago

Text

amor de mi vida - 1947

pairing: bucky barnes x latinx!reader

warnings: racism, prejudice, fluff, angst, smut

word count: 3206

description: Bucky Barnes is a sweet young Brooklyn boy, just on the cusp of manhood, a hopeless romantic that falls in love with almost every girl he sees. when he sets his eyes on a young girl fresh off the boat from Cuba he finds out how hard love can really be.

for @cake-writes 1940s challenge.

The birth of your daughter came the week after Christmas, five weeks early and nestled into the time between the holiday and the start of the new year. A nine month old Jaime curiously crawled into the bed, hoping to cuddle with his mother but was confused to find another baby in her arms. You cooed at the little girl, holding her up so her brother could see.

Bucky was sitting behind Jaime, holding him and letting him sit to lay the baby girl between you.

“That’s your sister Jaime.” A soft whisper, the newborn sleeping in her swaddle. Jaime’s brows scrunched, eyes looking up at you in question before reaching his arms out for you and beginning to cry. The sound of his wails waking his sister and causing her to fuss and cry out. You sigh heavily, picking your boy up and holding him to your chest, watching Bucky pick up his daughter in an attempt to soothe. Jaime’s little foot kicked out at her to push her away.

It was a big adjustment for him, but he was young enough to adapt fairly quickly. Both you and Bucky had a much more difficult time. Jaime made you a sucker, he had been so easy compared to Claudia. Dia you called her. She was cholicky and needy. She fussed and squirmed, never happy. Her need for attention took a lot of your day, Jaime was unhappy that Bucky was the one cutting up his food and helping to wean him off of your breast.

He cried and babbled to be breastfed, something that helped you feel so close to him, but now with your daughter it was harder to navigate and he was getting older.

Bucky went on missions every once in a while, when Steve couldn’t get Dugan or Gabe Jones to back him up. In those times Winnie would come stay and she was more of a help than either of you when it came to the babies. It almost made you feel inadequate as a Mother.

She was able to soothe both at the same time, “It comes from practice,” She claims, “Don’t sell yourself short, this is the first time you’ve ever done this.” She wasn’t wrong. You tried to focus on that.

In the springtime, Bucky was away on another mission and Winnie took it upon herself to help you by going to the store. It was the first beautiful day of spring, a light 70, bright sunny and warm. Four-month-old Dia lay on her belly in the sun, wiggling, while 13 month old Jaime waddled around picking grass and bringing it back to you.

You admired this neighborhood, the neighbors mainly kept to themselves, some were mowing their lawns, others playing with their small children in a similar fashion. It was then that you met someone who would cause you only grief.

Martha Green.

She was blonde and pretty. She lived next door with her husband and two young kids, from what you can tell they were almost ready for grade school. When you’d first moved into the neighborhood she shamelessly flirted with Steve at the gate. The poor guy, fresh and naive, needed to be saved by Peggy who put her foot down and told the bubbly blonde to buzz off. Once Bucky got his arm, he started fixing things outside of the house, a loose shutter that rattled and woke up Jaime once or twice, he lay new tiles on the roof, but her favorite was when he mowed the lawn. She would come out, bubbly and sweet and offer him a drink. Sometimes it was lemonade, other times she was bold enough to offer him whiskey.

“She’s intense.” He’d laugh with you later before growing serious, forking rice into his mouth, “I don’t think her husband treats her very well.”

You’d never spoken to her. You stayed mostly in the backyard, the fence high enough that they couldn’t see in. It was easier than risk the confrontation of racist neighbors. You were sure that she thought Bucky a bachelor up until you decided to start bringing the kids into the front yard. You wanted the sun. Shoe-less and bare shouldered you soaked it in, Dia in just her cloth diaper and a hat and Jaime much the same. You’d bathe them together later. You leaned back on the blanket and cooed at your babies, thanking Jaime for bringing you more grass and wishing he would play with the toys you’d laid out for him instead.

“Excuse me?” Her voice was harsh. You turned your eyes up from your wiggling baby to the woman on the other side of your fence, standing in your driveway. Her skin flushed.

“Yes?” Jaime toddled back over and handed you a baseball Bucky had gotten him, which you quietly thanked him for before setting it down at your side.

“I just wanted to let you know the police are on their way.” Your mouth drops and you stand to approach the fence.

“I live here.” You say, her head already shaking.

“Your kind does not live in this neighborhood.” She spits, “I know the man who lives here.” You shake your head,

“Do you mean my husband?” Her lips parted and her jaw clenched.

“That’s not possible.” You began to hear sirens, police on their way. You felt a sense of relief as Winnie pulled back into the driveway. The older woman stepped from the car and looked at you in confusion before turning to the woman beside her.

“Can I help you?” Martha turns to Winnie and sighs in relief.

“This woman here is trespassing,” She says, “I called the police.” Winnie looks from the woman to you in a panic.

“Y/N take the babies and get in the house.” Her voice stern, she turned a glare back to Martha in front of her. “You’re the one who is trespassing here, who do you think you are?” You could hear the sirens getting closer and quickly picked up Dia and Jaime and brought them inside, shutting the screen door. Jaime started crying, toddling back to the front door, his playtime interrupted. You quickly placed him in his playpen and turned the radio on low, his cries tapering off as he picked up his blankie and rubbed it on his face before placing Dia in the small bassinet you’d brought down into the den. When you made it back to the screen door you could see Winnie arguing with a police officer and pointing to Martha beside her. The police officer looked behind her and saw you, motioning for you to come outside. You slipped on heels you’d left by the door quickly and stepped outside, the officer stepping past the two women in the driveway to meet you at the gate.

“Is your name Y/N Barnes?” He asked. You look at Winnie, “Don’t look at her, look at me.” His voice was gruff and annoyed.

“Yes, it is.” He nods, looking at the house behind you.

“And you live here with your husband, James Barnes?” People knew who James Barnes was, just like they knew who Steve Rogers was. The Howling Commandos were famous, war heroes.

“Yes, I do.” He nods again, jaw clenching.

“Marrying someone like you isn’t technically illegal,” He spits some dip on the ground, the muck on the side of the white fence Bucky just repainted, “The two of you better keep that shit and those children to yourself. Do you understand me?” You felt your cheeks heat up, the anger you had to swallow.

“Yes, I understand.” His eyes roam your bare shoulders, focus on your chest for a moment, before tracing down your body, making your stomach churn.

“I don’t want to have to come out here again.” Another spit against the fence and he turned around to walk away. “Have a good day ladies.” You wouldn’t let that bitch see you cry. A glare in Martha’s direction. Her smug face, heels clicking as she stomped her way back into her house. Winnie snatched the groceries from the trunk, slamming it heavily, you opened the gate to help her in before grabbing a bag.

“The nerve.” She rants, “Has nothing better to do than stick her prissy little nose in our business, she’s the one who was trespassing. The nerve.” You check on Jaime and Dia, both having fallen asleep in the mid afternoon. Tired from the sun and playing which you were thankful for. “Don’t get upset dove.” She placed the groceries on the kitchen table and waited until you did as well to pull you against her tightly. “She’s a bitch.” A laugh through the tears that started to fall.

“She really is.”

Bucky, fresh home from his mission, asked about the gate. The dip spit hadn’t come off even though you’d tried to scrub it. You didn’t know where he’d left the extra paint either. “It’s fine,” You said, “We are fine.” But he was angry, clearly. “Don’t.” He wanted to go talk to them. Her and her husband. “We are fine.”

He snuggled up with his babies, reading, but you knew the conversation wasn’t over. The babies were asleep when he joined you in bed, crawling over your body and placing the book you were reading on the nightstand before placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“If my Ma hadn’t shown up...” His eyes wide and fearful.

“But she did,” You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp at the nape of his neck. “Everything is fine.” He presses a kiss to your lips before sighing and laying down on you. His head in your lap. “There’s more sun in the front yard… I just wanted to enjoy the sun.”

“It’s not your fault mi amor… I worry about you,” He admits, “Every time I leave.” You brush your fingers through his hair while he continues, “I knew it would only be a matter of time until someone had some shit to say.” You’d been surprised that it took as long as it did, honestly. “I’ll repaint the gate tomorrow,” A mumble as he slipped into unconsciousness, “I’ll call Steve, see if he can help me with some of the trees in the backyard, give you a little more sun.”

The next day Steve and Bucky were tearing down branches and piling up firewood on the side of the house. It only took two trees coming down before the backyard was flooded with sunlight. Dia lay on a picnic blanket you lay out in the yard, Jaime toddled around bringing small branches to his father and Uncle Steve.

Peggy sat beside you, a large shiny rock on her finger. One she kept glancing at, and smiling softly. Steve proposed just yesterday when he’d gotten back in. “Maybe the fall.” She says, “Or winter, we’d have to get married in London for my family, but maybe we’ll do a ceremony here in the states as well? Not too much of a fuss though.”

Dia rolled onto her back, kicking her pudgy legs out and into the air, gumming her fist. Peggy cooed over her, the little girl who, when she noticed her father sitting a few feet away began to fake cry for his attention. Jaime and Dia missed him when he was away, but Bucky got exactly what he wanted in her, she was infatuated with him and if he was in the room and not holding her she would fuss until he did.

A grin stretched his lips as he cooed at her and picked her up from the ground, her little fingers instantly wrapping around the dog tags on his neck and yanking. Jaime toddled over to you and fell into your lap, laying his head on your chest and sticking his thumb into his mouth.

Peggy continues, “There’s a house in the neighborhood we’re thinking about buying actually.” A grin on her face, “Steve has been looking into getting it, we’d only be a few doors down.”

“I’m sure Bucky would love that.” You looked back at the men behind you, reclining on the deck, Dia babbling in her father’s lap and playing with the jingly tags before reaching over to Steve and doing the same. The men in a deep conversation about something you’re sure had to do with whatever mission had recently taken him away from you.

Bucky met your eyes and smiled, sticking his tongue out at you while beginning to bounce Dia on his knee. Jaime had fallen asleep on your chest, thumb idle in his mouth as you marveled at your little family.

You honestly thought that you wouldn’t spend a third year in a row pregnant, but Bucky seemed to be extremely potent. You just hadn’t told him, not yet. Soon.

You started showing mid-summer. After two kids with the third on the way you felt like a beached whale in your swimsuit on the beach. It was pretty, bought for you by Becca with the money she’d been making helping you distribute the dresses. Your little messenger who got you the business in the first place. The white one piece with pink polka dots did nothing to hide your growing belly and the cellulite on your thighs.

Bucky didn’t seem to mind though. The sex was still constant and whenever the two of you found the time, which you’re sure would fully be gone when baby number three was born. “I’m not going to be pregnant next year.” You tell him. “I need a break.” He kisses the skin of your neck, humming.

“Whatever you want dahlin.” Bucky loved being a father, and you were starting to suspect that he loved when you were pregnant as well. He was far more handsy when you were pregnant. Especially today.

His parents rented a beach house, the family, including Steve and Peggy, the girls, Ginny and Daniel, Ruth and her fiance Matthew, Suzy and Becca. It was a full house, but so far a relaxing and enjoyable vacation for all.

Jaime and Dia quickly learned that sand was not edible. Laughter as you rinsed their mouths out with water.

“You ready?” Bucky asked, picking up Dia and holding his hand out for Jaime. “C’mon bud.” He walked the kids down to the water, sitting Dia in the sand close enough where the waves would lap at her legs before squatting down and picking up wet sand to show Jaime. You watched from your spot, reclining further back. George walked out to meet Bucky, his belly rounder, hair more grey.

You watched, digging your toes in the sand while Bucky dipped Dia into the water, her giggles reaching your ears. Jaime held up wet sand to his grandfather, “Wet,” he giggled before letting it drop out of his fingers. Becca lay next to you, tanning in the sun. While Suzy sat under the umbrella reading next to Winnie who found herself knitting new booties for a new baby.

George was talking to Bucky, little Dia handed off and she squirmed as George pressed kisses to her face.

“He’s a good Dad.” Becca sat up on her elbows, looking at her older brother play with Jaime in the water, dunking his lower body into the crashing waves. “Which is so weird, like my brother is a good Dad.” You grin at her, rubbing your belly in contentment,

“He really is.”

Bucky’s lips tasted of salt. Dia and Jaime down for a nap they had wailed themselves into. Too much sun left them tired and cranky.

Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist, joining you in admiring the two of them, curled up next to one another.

“Jaime’s hair is getting long.” You say, brushing the curls off his face, his thumb stuck in his mouth, just a breath away from his sister doing the same.

“It’s almost time for his first hair cut I think.” James slowly rocked the both of you back and forth, side to side, you close your eyes and lean your head back against his shoulder. “In a couple months I’m gonna help Steve and Dugan with something big.” His hands splay wide over your tummy, “I’ll be gone for a little while.” Your brow furrows, turning to him he looks apologetic.

“How long is a little while?” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and sighs before replying.

“Three weeks.” That’s a long time. That’s longer than he’d ever been gone since coming home from the war. You step back from him, placing your hands on your lower back.

“No,” You shake your head, “That’s too long.” He reaches for you and you step out of his grasp, exiting the room as to not wake the children.

“Sweetheart,” He follows you into the kitchen where you began to pour yourself iced tea Winnie had made earlier in the day. “Listen, I know it’s a long time…” He steps into your line of sight and corners you against the counter. You refuse to meet his eyes, trying to move your way around him but he locks you in. His fingers softly lifting your chin to look at him. “Just this once, all of these small missions have been leading up to this, and my Ma or Becca will stay with you the whole time.”

“It’s going to be dangerous.” A statement, not a question. He sighs, hands resting on your belly while he speaks,

“I’ll always come home to you amor de mi vida,” He leans down and meets your lips, “Always.”

Becca stayed with you while he was gone. The entirety of Thanksgiving and the week before, the week after. Somewhere in Europe, but he couldn’t tell you where. They’d found an extra Hydra cell, you knew that. It didn’t do anything to soothe the fear you had that maybe this time he wouldn’t survive the fall. Maybe this time someone would kill him in the field.

The missions before were dangerous, sure. But he came home mostly unscathed from those. Like another day at work. A work trip over the weekend, two or three days and then he was back until it was time for him to go again.

The babies missed him, which was something you were sure to complain to him about once he got back.

He came home in one piece, barely. His eye was black and swollen, the gash on his side, while stitched and bandaged, left him sore and bed ridden for a week after he returned. In the middle of winter, firewood from the summer being burned in the fireplace, he moaned in pain while you cleaned his wounds and changed his bandages.

“That’s what you get for leaving me.” You’d been crying since he’d gotten back. Horrified at the state he was in. He laughs, holding his stitched side.

“Te amo.” A languid kiss he had no means to truly act on before laying the frozen steak you’d wrapped in cloth back onto his eye.

“You’re never leaving me like that again.” You tell him, leaning your head on his side. He smiles down at you and runs his fingers through your curls.

“Never.”

taglist // @corneliabarnes @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique @albinotigerpython @cake-writes @iheartsebastianstan @000bananaclip000 @shadowbuisness @sprinkleofbooty @gifsbysimplysonia @vhsbarnes @loseralert @wendaiii @mcueveryday @alwaysbenhardysgirl @beck-alicious @thefandomzoneisdangerous

#bucky barnes x reader #1940s!bucky barnes #1940s au #captain america #sebastian stan #steve rogers #peggy carter #howard stark #the falcon and the winter soldier

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daydreamingabouthockey · 5 years ago

Text

Rough Day- Tyson Barrie

Plot: Tyson Barrie is having a rough time after being traded to Toronto. Y/n sees him on the TTC and tries to comfort him.

Note: I don’t know the guy or how he feels about the trade.But I guess anyone would be sad about being traded right? I loved him in Colorado so when he got traded from my favourite American team to my favourite Canadian team I was sad but happy. This was totally inspired by the fact I met him on the TTC a few months ago (he wasn’t crying don’t worry) but he was just staring off into space. he was lovely anyway. So thankful I got the subway that night instead of an Uber. Hockey gods were looking down on me!

Word count: 1,747

You stared down the platform, there was only one other person around, he was a a youngish guy. He was just standing there staring into space. You made eye contact but he noticed pretty quickly and turned away. that was awkward, you thought, but then again this was Toronto. You stare back up at the board, another five minutes to go. “Fuck should I should have gotten an Uber,” you mutter under your breathe shuffling your feet to keep warm. At least all of those leaf fans had gone now so the train would be empty. Not that you followed hockey, the fans were just a pain on match days. Finally you hear the hum and clink of the tram. “Finally” you huff.

You watched the tram doors open. It was empty now as a dozen people scurried off. It was nearly ten in the evening.The doors were about to shut when the young guy from earlier dashed through the door. He looked like he was in his mid twenties, with curly dark brown hair.His expensive looking suit and black coat he looked like a business man in the city.He let out a sniff and a laugh before sitting down opposite you. That’s when you realize he’s not laughing, he’s crying or more accurately sobbing. You stand there for a moment wondering what to do. You look around you two are the only people on the TTC. You stand there conflicted, he might be a weirdo crying but then again he sounded super upset. In this situation you’d want someone to check on you. Your mind was racing, if you heard something had happened to his guy tomorrow you would feel terrible you never said anything.

You get up and take the seat next to him. He doesn’t notice at first “Are you ok?” You ask, tapping him on his shoulder. “I mean obviously you're not but,” you say realising asking if he was ok was pretty dumb.

“No, not really I’m sorry I’ve just had a really bad day,” he says looking up at you with his dark brown eyes. His face is red and puffy from crying. “You wanna talk about it? I won’t judge,” you say giving him a simatheic smile

“I can’t,” he says looking down fiddling with his jacket sleeve.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry you're having a bad day…” you pause when you realize you don’t even know the man’s name. “Tyson,” he said sniffing again

“Tyson,” you said with a nod “I’m y/n”

“We all have bad days and that’s ok and there is no shame in crying, I don’t know what you're going through but, bad days and months they pass, I promise, I know it’s cliche, last month my boyfriend of five years out of the blue dumped me, it was hard we’d been engaged over a year, then my job made me redundant, I cried a lot but everyday the pain got less and less day and eventually I got back on my feet” you say, rooting through your bag for a pack of tissues. You finally find them and pass one over. “Really?,” he asked

“Yeah,” you says suddenly wondering why you’d told this stranger your life story. “That’s tough I’m sorry” ,he said dabbing his face.“its’s okay I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it about me, I’ll leave you alone now, I just wanted to make sure you were ok,” you say awkwardly getting up “ no please don’t leave me, I might be getting fired,” Tyson blurts out. “And I really really don’t want to be, that’s why I was upset”

“Oh,” you said, plopping back down on the seat. “Well no- one wants to get fired,” you say slowly.“I’ve only just moved to Toronto in the last few months and that was really hard, leaving my friends in Denver, but I had no choice,”

“I can understand that, I hated leaving my friends and family in LA, what makes you think you're being fired? I mean you don’t know?” You ask gently “I messed up, big style and now my manager wants to get rid of me, I know they do, I’ve heard the whispers and the worst part is I could end up anywhere in another city or town I hate, I just want to go back to Denver, I miss it so much,”

“They can’t fire you for one mistake and come on now Toronto isn’t that bad,” you laugh “No I guess not,” he sighed “it's just like Toronto is the central city for what I do so everyone is looking at me, in Denver it was just easier,”

“Ah okay, are you from Denver then?”

“No Victoria BC, my work means can I move around a lot,I’ve lived in Denver for eight years though” he said you could see his face instantly change and light up when he mentioned Denver“Well now I get why you wouldn’t want to leave Denver, I’ve heard it’s beautiful around there,”

“Oh it is,” he says sadly and you realise you’ve said the wrong thing. “Not that Toronto isn’t great too,it’s just different,” he says.

“I wouldn’t normally do this but, do you want to go out for a drink?” You ask offering your hand to get up just as the subway came to a stop ‘Sure why not,’ he said with a shrug grabbing your hand.

In the end the you ended up at your place. The two of you sat with a glass of red wine. He stretched out on your sofa, his head in your lap. You ran your fingers through the curly locks of hair. He told you all about his friends back in Denver Nate who was a big dumb boy who insisted people called him Nate dog with two g’s. EJ, Josty who she realises is not his real name but a nickname is a loveable pest and then there is the clear leader of the pack, Gabe who in Tyson’s words looked like a Swede god.But had a very big head literally Which Nate and Tyson made fun of all the time. You in turn told him about your weird friends and family and how you ended up coming from sunny La to cold snowy Toronto. It was strange you felt like you had been friends for years. You felt such a sense of ease and peace with this guy, like conversation was never forced yet you knew you had no romantic feelings for this guy and you knew he felt the same. Tyson ended up crashing on your sofa and in the morning you cooked breakfast together before you both had to leave for work. But before you did he said something rather odd. “Can you not tell anyone about this my weird breakdown? Can it be between us?” He said adjusting his tie “Yeah sure,”

The pair of you swapped numbers, you kept in contact texting now and then. Tyson had said his work was a little better his co-workers were supportive of him. Which made you happy although you knew he still wasn’t a hundred percent happy. He had booked a trip to Colorado to see his friends in the summer. You had tried to meet up a couple times but his work kept him busy and you had lots of things going on too. You knew he worked unsocial hours but what he exactly did was still a mystery to you. It wasn’t until two months later, you got that answer, when you saw Tyson’s face again. Except this time it was on tv. You were sat in a bar with your gal pals nursing a glass of red wine. “Toronto Maple leaf Tyson Barrie, has been traded back to the Colorado Avalanche in return for Nazem Kardri, the Victoria born player Barrie spent the year playing for the leafs in a statement he said “I’ve enjoyed playing for the leafs this last year, but I’m excited also to go back to Denver and play again for the avs with my old buddies,” the screen showed Tyson being interview his face beaming with happiness, the same guy but so different from the one you met that night on the train. “Can you turn this up please?” You ask the bartender. He nods. “Y/n I didn’t realize you were this into sports,” your best friend Jan says looking at you surprised “I’m not not really but I’m just interested in this story,” you say signalling to Tyson Barrie who they were showing shots of on the ice, “oh Barrie,” Jan said rolling her eyes. “what?” You ask curious, you’d never really followed hockey before.“He was terrible for the leafs I’m glad we are giving him back,”she says pointing to Tyson. “Poor dude give the guy a break,” you say sympathetically, not taking your eyes off the screen. “Why are you defending him, you don’t even watch hockey,” Jan asks You shrug “I dunno I guess it can’t be easy, being a professional athlete, having all eyes on you,”

“Because you know a lot about that, poor little millionaire,” Jan said taking another sip of her wine and rolling her eyes. You know that you don’t really know what it is like but you got a glimpse into that life when you met Tyson on the train that night. You had no idea he was a millionaire. Wow. Even still millionaires aren’t exempt from mental health problems. Especially when all eyes are on you. Now you understood why he disliked Toronto for his job so much. Toronto media were known in any sense for being ruthless. You excuse yourself to the washroom and once safely in the stall you get out your phone and send a text.

To: Tyson

I’m happy for you. I told you it would all work out eventually. X

To: Y/n

Thanks y/n,

To: Tyson

I’m just a phone call away if you need to talk x

You slip your phone back into your bag. “Who are you texting?” Your best friend asked raising an eyebrow. You give a smile, you weren’t going to tell them about your night with Tyson, you'd promised that night would just be between the two of you. “Just a friend,” you say. Your phone pinged again.

To: y/n

I’ll let you know and next time I’m in town maybe we can grab a drink?

To: Tyson

I’d like that Tys, good luck in Colorado xx

#toronto maple leaf imagine #toronto maple leafs writing #nhl imagine #nhl drabble #nhl fanfiction #tyson barrie fanfic #tyson barrie writing #colorado avalanche imagine #tyson barrie #tyson barrie imagine #maple leafs #hockey fanfic #hockey writing #my writing #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs imagines

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ourownsideimagines · 6 years ago

Text

The Function of a Rubber Duck (Ravenclaw!Aziraphale x Hufflepuff!Reader)

Characters: Ravenclaw!Aziraphale, Slytherin!Crowley, Gryffindor!Gabriel, Hufflepuff!Reader

Requested: Yes

Requested by: & Anon

Point of View: Third Person Reader

Summary: (Name) has always been interested in the Muggle world, and so has Aziraphale. So when a mutual acquaintance brings them together, how long will it be before they realize the other person is in love with them too.

Warnings: Asshole Gabe, a small bit of violence (punching someone in the face)

Words: 1612

A/N: I just seem to enjoy having the reader put Gabriel in his place. Also, in this, I figure that Gabe, Az, and reader are all purebloods and Crowley is likely a muggleborn or half-blood raised in the muggle world. Extra late because I posted it to the wrong blog shit-

—-

Squeak.

(Name) giggled.

Squeak.

They giggled again.

Squeak.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Gabriel all but snapped at them, causing the young Hufflepuff to jump in surprise. They turned to their friend (if he could even be called that) and with a smile, presented the small, yellow, rubber duck they had received from their parents earlier that morning.

“Just look at it!” They said. “Isn’t it fascinating? I’ve been told Muggles use them in the bath, though I can’t imagine what for.” Upon seeing the rather annoyed look on Gabriel’s face they pulled back the duck.

“It’s annoying.” He said simply.

“It’s fascinating.” They corrected him. “Muggles are so simple, yet so complicated!”

“You’re obsessed.” Gabriel said, distaste evident in his voice. (Name) rolled their eyes.

“Not obsessed, just… mildly interested.”

“Well, whatever it is, can you take it back to your own common room? You’re giving me a headache.” His words hurt, not that (Name) would ever admit that. They weren’t about to let his bad mood bring them down. They were enjoying their rubber duck, after all

“You’re no fun.” They grumbled, squeaking the toy again. Gabriel screwed his eyes shut and let out a loud sigh.

“I’ll tell you what. I know someone else who’s just as obsessed with this crap as you are - if I introduce you to him, will you leave me alone?” They wanted to scoff, but held it back.

“I wasn’t trying to bother you in the first place, Gabriel.” They seethed.

“Do you want to meet him or not?”

—-

“What house did you say he's in?” (Name) asked as they waited with Gabriel outside the library. Gabriel was tapping his foot impatiently and only seemed to grow more impatient at their question.

“Ravenclaw.” He deadpanned. (Name) nodded, but said nothing. They were afraid another question would make the Gryffindor pop. So they stood, silently, and waited. After another five minutes a Ravenclaw who appeared to be in their year began walking down the hall towards them. He had short hair, so blond it was almost white, and the prettiest blue eyes (name) had ever seen.

(Name) wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, but what else could this be?

“Oh, hello Gabriel.” The boy said as he approached, a soft but nervous smile on his face. (Name) was glad they wasn’t the only person Gabriel made uncomfortable.

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel smiled, but it was not kind. It didn’t reach his eyes, something (name) had noticed every time he smiled. “I knew I would find you here - this is (name).” He motioned to (name), who waved gently at him. “(Name) here is interested in that, weird, muggle stuff you seem to love.”

“Really?” The boy’s eyes lit up and he turned his full attention to (name). “Is that true?”

“Oh, yes, I love muggle inventions. Really, everything.” (Name) said, nodding enthusiastically.

They began to dig among their robes until they found the duck and presented it as they had to Gabriel. Unlike said Gryffindor, Aziraphale almost seem to burst with joy, eyes widening in surprise and mouth opening.

“My parents sent me this! My mum says they found it in a muggle toy store in London!”

“I’ve heard about these!” Aziraphale lifted a hand, but hesitated. “May I?”

“Of course.” (Name) said, and Aziraphale gingerly took the duck. (Name) watched as he examined it, turning it over in his hands. Neither of them had noticed that Gabriel had slipped away. Aziraphale paused his turning and stared it down. (Name) wanted to laugh for a moment, and couldn’t help but snort when Aziraphale pressed down, causing the duck to squeak loudly, turning a few heads and making the poor boy almost drop the item.

It was the start of a beautiful friendship, and, maybe, the start of something more.

---

(Name) did not appreciate the house stereotypes.

Most people assumed Aziraphale was a goody-two-shoes. That he got all his work done on time, in full, for every class - if only they knew that was far from the truth. (Name) had, on various occasions, watched from the Hufflepuff table as Aziraphale rushed through his home work during breakfast, and had witnessed first hand his sarcasm and sass towards the teachers who thought they knew everything.

He was a genius, no doubt, but was also the biggest dumbass (name) had ever met.

Then there was the idea that Slytherins were evil. (Name) really didn’t like that stereotype. Most others didn’t doubt the idea. (Name) liked to give them the benefit of the doubt, though - that’s how (name) and Aziraphale befriended Crowley, a Slytherin in their year, and an all around kind, good person when he wasn’t playing the bad guy (“If that’s how everyone sees me, why should I play any different?”).

But if there was one stereotype they absolutely hated, it was that Hufflepuffs were ‘soft’ and ‘submissive’ and ‘always kind’. It grated on their nerves, the idea that they would only ever be seen as soft, and Gabriel was pushing them over the line now.

“Look, why don’t you just go back to your common room and bother people who care.”

“Go to hell, Gabriel.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, go to hell.” They hissed at him.

“Well aren’t you a little ballsy Hufflepuff? What’re you gonna do? Friendship bracelet me to death?” Gabriel taunted. (Name) had never felt more satisfied punching someone in the face, not that they had ever done so before. Even though they knew they’d never hear the end of it from their parents, they truly were satisfied. Maybe Gabriel would finally leave them alone.

---

“I’m still confused.” Crowley said as he dangled off one of the trees beside the lake, his uniform robes creating a curtain that shaded his friends from the light. “Did you get away with it or not?”

“Kind of,” (name) sighed. “I mean, of course, Gabriel went and snitched to our head boy, but you wanna know how many points he deducted?”

“Fifty.” Crowley said, but there was an air to his words that didn’t sound as if he was actually trying.

“Two.” (Name) corrected him. “I didn’t even know you could deduct just two points.”

“That’s nothing!” Crowley scoffed. “I once got deducted 50 points for hiding a frog leg in some girl’s bag after she tried to sabotage my potion second year.”

“It’s not a competition, Crowley.” Aziraphale sighed.

“What about you?” (Name) asked suddenly. “Have you ever lost your house points, Aziraphale?”

“Wha- me?” He stuttered, cheeks suddenly flushing red.

“Oh, he has.” Crowley said, smiling. “He most definitely has,” The young man dropped from his position on the tree, showering the two in leaves and sunlight. “And I want to know the story.” Crowley dropped down onto his stomach and propped his head up with both hands, waiting for Aziraphale. (Name) giggled at their antics, but they too were curious.

“Well, I, uh…” Aziraphale turned away, pretending to be interested in some far off plants. Then, he let out a deep sigh. “I, uh, I was caught trying to… sneak into the restricted section. Of the library.”

“No way,” (Name)’s eyes widened. “Who caught you!?”

“Professor Sprout.” Aziraphale sighed. “She was escorting a student to a section on Mandrakes and caught me trying to get in.”

“I don’t know whether to call you brave or call you stupid.” (Name) remarked playfully. Aziraphale rolled his eyes, and bumped them shoulder with his own. It quickly turned into a war of back and forth bumping and pushing, the two laughing and squealing.

Then it all stopped as Crowley spoke up.

“You two are so sweet I think it’s giving me cavities.” (Name) was suddenly very aware of Aziraphale’s arm around them, holding them in place as he tried to dig his fingers into their side, and their hands on his chest trying to push him off.

“W-what?” They said. (Name) and Aziraphale pulled back from each other.

“Oh, come on you two,” Crowley groaned, rolling his eyes and taking a proper seat in the grass. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Crowley I really don’t think-” Aziraphale began, but Crowley cut him off.

“They liked you, Aziraphale,” (Name)’s eyes widened in surprise at this statement. Sure, they’d never tried to hide it from Crowley, but they’d never outright said it. “And, for the record, he likes you too.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale seethed.

“Tell him, (name),” Crowley said suddenly. “Bet you won’t.” This caught their attention.

“Excuse me?” They sat up a bit straighter.

“I said, I bet you won’t admit it.”

“Crowley, I think you need to leave it alone-”

“Say it again, to my face.” (Name) seethed, catching Aziraphale by surprise. Crowley leaned forward, staring them in the eyes.

“Two Galleon you won’t tell him.” It was on.

“Aziraphale,” (Name) turned to him, a sudden intensity in their eyes. They didn’t care about the money, but they never backed down from a bet. “I fell in love with you the moment I met you and your fascination with my rubber duck.”

“I-wha-oh-dear-” Aziraphale’s face flushed a bright pink, but he didn’t move away from them, which (name) took as a good sign.

“And if Crowley isn’t being an absolute bastard and lying, that means you like me too.”

“Well he’s- oh dear - he’s not -”

“For somebody’s sake just kiss him already.” Crowley fell back into the grass, exasperated. “Bet you won’t-”

“Piss off.” (name) hissed, but turned to Aziraphale again.

“Can I?” They asked.

“Can you- uh - can you what?”

“Kiss you, stupid.” They said, glaring playfully. Aziraphale swallowed hard, but nodded.

So they did.

#good omens #good omens x reader #aziraphale x reader #ravenclaw!aziraphale x hufflepuff!reader #ravenclaw!aziraphale #aziraphale #x reader #x hufflepuff!reader #reader insert #good omens reader insert #Hogwarts AU #Harry Potter AU #my writing #reese writes #ineffably late #slytherin!Crowley #Gryffindor!Gabriel

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hcazj · 5 years ago

Photo

made a cover for my whack af mchanzo nanowrimo 2019 novel. u can find it on ao3 via “finding you in the buckass of nowhere” lmao. prologue under the cut but after this i will be exclusively posting on ao3

PROLOGUE

The sun rises high into the sky, casting shadows on everything residing on the surface. Jesse gives a loud yawn before scratching his scrappy goatee and turning the page on a health textbook he was given by Angela by instruction of his residing commander. He didn’t know how the conversation had started, but during a debriefing on the latest mission in one of the meeting rooms, one of the punks on the Blackwatch team had decided to give Gabriel Reyes a run for his money and ask if he had a soulmate waiting back home. Gabe, of course, had laughed in that guy’s face. He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the entire world.

And just as he was laughing, something miraculous happened. The team was visited by none other than Overwatch’s Strike Commander, who not only served as a face for publicity stunts, but also was the head of operations. And the strike teams, hence the title.

“He better not.” Soldier: 76, better known as Jack Morrison, said as he practically kicked the meeting room door open with his boot. He looked pissed. And also had a stack of papers on him. It looked like someone forgot to get their morning coffee. “He’d have some serious explaining to do.”

There were a couple whispers across the table, a couple agents trying to understand the implications of what had just transpired. Jesse swore he saw some of his teammates starting to sweat. The band of Blackwatch agents saw Gabriel Reyes flash his most charming smile. The rascal could look good when he wanted to.

“Jackie, you’re backie. Not in blackie, though. I’m happy you’re openly talking about this, but didn’t we agree not to tell anyone? Also, hey, dinner at 8 in my room.” And then Gabe winked at Jack. Ew.

Jack sighed, crossing his arms, and not so subtly cueing to the assortment of medals pinned to the lapel of his cornflower blue coat. Subtle. He addressed Gabe. “Remember last night? Well, I’ve decided to become the possessive bastard you always wanted.” He gave an intimidating glance at everyone in the room. “How are you kids doing? I’m sure you’ve met me around. Though you probably didn’t think I’d be so involved with Gabe. Like, probably never expected in a million years that I was his soulmate. But yeah. That’s classified information, not a peep out of this room unless you want your life to being an even more visceral piece of hell.”

Someone gulped in anxiety. Someone sneered in ennui. But if Blackwatch owned anything, it was a pile of troublemakers.

Now, Jesse hadn’t been part of Blackwatch too long, but it never took him that long to make friends. Genji--Jesse’s best friend and second best troublemaker in Blackwatch history--decided it was his turn to say something. (Jesse liked to think of himself as the best troublemaker, but that was an entirely different discussion).

“And how are you going to do that exactly? Your boyfriend already has us running laps across the Mediterranean.” Genji sat proudly with his feet resting on the table, and Jack gave him a look of disgust.

Jack excused the moment of insubordination, and walked right past the table and into the arms of his lover. They shared a quick kiss after a moment of lingering in each others arms, much to the dismay of everyone else in the meeting room. And if Jack was good at anything, it was playing games with new recruits.

“What’s up, marido ? What makes my darling husband so sad?” Gabe said, combing his hair through the tufts of Jack’s pale blond hair. It was thin, very much unlike his own, but he liked to try.

Jack laughed, trying to materialize every ounce of theatrics he had stored in his body for this very moment. “My sweet love, I just don’t know how I’m going to live if you don’t assign your soldiers 50 more pushups each every morning before breakfast. They’re not super soldiers like us, but we must make sure they are raised right. They’re like our kids, to me.” Jack lifted a leg off the floor, like he was swooning for real.

Groaning broke out around the table, and Jesse wasn’t sure if his teammates were groaning at the obviously satirical display of affection, or at the thought of actually being assigned even more pushups every morning.

It was Gabe’s turn to laugh. “Aw, Jack. We’re going to have a conversation later on why you’re so touchy today. Let me kiss you goodbye, though.” He planted another kiss on his husband’s nose before resuming business as per usual. Jack begrudgingly peeled himself off of his husband, but not without greeting their personal pet project. He smacked the stack of autopsies in front of Jesse and gave him a wink, before ruffling through the kid’s hair.

Gabe cleared his throat, as the door shut. Radio silence. He looked at Genji, who was making paper triangle footballs to send flying across the room. Genji looked up at him and discarded the paper football into the recycling bin. Gabe swore, some of the people on this team had the attention span of gnats.

“Ok, amigxs. Before we get into the details of the upcoming mission abroad, Jack was serious about our relationship being confidential. Think of the absolute horror you would cause if the UN caught winding that I’m fucking their Strick Commander. Like, maybe it’s funny. Actually, that’s pretty fucking funny. Can I get a laugh track going here?”

Jesse was the first to start hooting and hollering. A round of applause followed. If Gabe getting laid meant a happy Gabe, who cared, really? Sure, it could cause an international scandal, but Jesse liked to take it a day at a time.

“Thanks, caballero. Ok. It might be the funniest thing ever, but let’s be serious. I don’t want to fire any of you, but if wind caught that I’m soulmates with Jack, that would probably raise some suspicions of nepotism. Now we all know that I’m a very accomplished man, with a great piece of ass too, but it could potentially mean getting the pink slip from the higher higher ups. And all of you would probably also be out of the job, since Blackwatch technically does not exist. Really. So please don’t, if you value your paycheck.

“Alright, anyways. Any questions before we begin reviewing these autopsy reports like a pack of lawyers from a video game?” Gabe asked.

Jesse McCree had a question.

He partially raised his hand like a kid in a classroom, but then put it back down as he was contemplating if he should ask it at all, but then fully raised his hand as he thought ‘fuck it’.

“Hey, son. What’s bothering you? No, I don’t have any Nature Grain bars to feed you right now, please wait until after the meeting,” Gabe said. That aroused another short round of laughter from the people at the meeting.

Jesse chuckled too, because he had actually asked for a Nature Grain before in the middle of a mission. But he had a question to ask, and that was very important. “Hey, so, uhhhhh. I don’t know if this is relevant, or important enough, but what in tarnation’s a soulmate again?”

And Jesse kind of knew too, but only vaguely, like the word ‘esoteric’.

Of course, ‘esoteric’ is a word that is used to describe when something is only understood by a small set of people. Like you could call string theory ‘esoteric’, because who the fuck knows what string theory is? But it comes around often enough that people have heard of string theory, if only by name. You could even consider the word ‘esoteric’ esoteric. That was kind of funny. But Jesse was raised in the pit of the South with a single mother, before he found himself living a life of crime. He reconsidered how esoteric the word ‘soulmates’ was.

Like ‘esoteric’, ‘soulmates’ was not a word that came up when Jesse was robbing trains for a living, nor running from the police after a shooting with an opposing gang, nor in the middle of jewelry heists in the heart of Santa Fe. ‘Soulmates’ wasn’t necessary by any means of the word, that word, necessary. But maybe while he had only heard it a handful of times, with no definition to attach to the word, maybe everyone else had.

He felt like he was the odd duck out, and that was hard to do in a group of mother fucking misfits. Like, come on, Genji was basically a fucking cyborg. Gabe had gone through that freak of a soldier enhancement program that probably fucked with his biology in ways Jesse would never understand. Moira, their resident evil scientist, shot floating orbs out of her hands in the middle of combat. What the fuck was that about? Did she hone the essence of Orbeez for the inspiration behind her primary weapon? Jesse had some real mother fucking questions.

And a lot of the times, he asked them too.

But out of all of the unprofessional and obscure questions he had asked in his life, and even just in his short stay at Blackwatch where he could ask some pretty weird things, he had never asked a question that just about floored so many different people all at once. It’s like, he asked the question about soulmates, and the question took the cake. It took the cake and ran away with the spoon and like, eloped with the dish. And fucked the moon. Jesse didn’t think there was a reason for everyone to look so scandalized, though.

Because questions didn’t take cakes, or run with spoons, or elope, or fuck.

Gabe had a face that betrayed emotions Jesse knew Gabe didn’t show often: remorse. Of course, ‘remorse’ kind of sounded like ‘Morrison’ and that was funny for 2 seconds. But it was downright scary. Jesse was the type of person that was always starting something.

2 days ago, he had snuck into the mess hall at 3:30AM to steal a bag of doritos. Last week, he got captured on a mission and had to be rescued from an abandoned warehouse. Yesterday, he accidentally passed a stink bomb so bad, Gabe started coughing and moved their weekly recap meeting outside. And it was raining, too.

“Kid, did you ever take a health class before dropping out of school?” Gabe asked.

Jesse didn’t know how to answer that. “Well, I know how my body works, thank you. Uh, but t’answer your question…. No. What’s that got t’do with soulmates?”

Gabe scrunched his lips, wondering how he could quickly remedy the situation. This is why they paid him the big bucks. Not the biggest bucks, but more than large enough bucks. “Ok, everyone settle down for a hot second. Jesse, I’m going to comm Angela for a textbook you can read. And you probably need some one-on-one lessons on other stuff--yeah, I know you know what sex is but what about STIs? That’s half the battle. How about taking a break this week and just getting through health class?”

“But boss--”

“Trust me, this is way more important.”

Gabe took out one of his comms, one that only a limited amount of people on base had access too. It was mostly used for emergencies, but other times, was used as a quick way to contact anyone on base.

“Hey Angela! How are you? It’s Gabriel Reyes. I’m great and so is Jack-o’-Lantern thanks for asking. Do you have a this week to give some health lessons to one of our agents? I know you’re friends with our little Jesse. Great. Yeah? Perfect, please put that textbook on reserve. I’ll send Jesse down soon. Ok. Awesome. Over.” Gabe clipped the comm back into his belt. “Ok, anyone else skip health class?”

The room, for once, was a resounding silence. Moira raised her hand.

“You didn’t take health class, O’deorain? Aren’t you a doctor?” Gabe asked.

“Very funny, commander. I was wondering why you did not just ask me to prepare some lessons and generic information for Jesse, and instead contacted Angela Zeigler.” She brought a hand up to her face, and rested her cheek on her long purple nails that looked like talons.

“Hey, doc. You’re coming with us on this mission. You can help out later if Jesse wants.” Gabe sighs and turns to Jesse. “Alright, cowboy. Sorry to do this to you, and don’t let this go to your head, but I can’t just let you go gallivanting into a foreign country with no knowledge about your own body parts. Trust me. Soulmates isn’t something to mess around with. I know you’re stressed about it. Consider yourself on hourly while you lax away while hitting the books this week, ok?”

Jesse sighed and pulled his cowboy hat off of his head. He was disappointed he wouldn’t be going to Japan, but there would definitely be more opportunities for travel in the future. Filling the cracks in his education wasn’t something that he would have completely expected out of Blackwatch.

In fact, he was still reeling over getting fed 3 square meals a day. Being treated with any semblance or respect. Being valued not because he was probably the greatest sharpshooter of his generation, but for his personality and interests. Though playing old Hollywood flicks on movie night annoyed his teammates to no end, people stuck around and watched with him. And that was more valuable than ransacking a jewelry store.

“You can stick around, but I suggest getting around early since the textbook Angela has for you is several hundreds of pages long.” Gabe grinned, trying to whisk away Jesse’s problems.

Jesse replaced the hat on his head, and yawned as he stretched his arms above his head. “See y’all later, suckeroonies. Y’all hear that? I’m being paid to stay on base this week!”

More laughter from the gallery. Jesse got a few pats on the back. Genji flicked a paper football in his direction, and it smacked Jesse straight in the forehead.

“Text me” Genji said with a salute. Gabriel cleared his throat and held out his hand.

Genji sighed as he was caught red handed, and surrendered his stash of paper footballs. A beat passed, and Gabriel remained focused on Genji. Genji took the paper footballs out of the pockets of his sweatpants and handed those over too.

That Genji.

Jesse snuck out the door as the team started talking about the autopsy reports, and was off to find Angela.

And not to say he wasn’t disappointed at not being able to travel with the rest of the team this time, but he tried to stick to the silver lining: gorging on breadsticks. Sometimes they were stale, but hit those babies with an unearthly and disgusting amount of ranch dressing, and Jesse would eat them like there was no tomorrow. Being paid also wasn’t half bad. And getting his question answered certainly wasn’t that bad.

He walked past the kitchen, one of the larger living rooms, and some of the barracks before taking an elevator up a few floors to the right area. Why wasn’t the med bay in the middle of the building?

Angela “Mercy” Zeigler was one of Overwatch’s doctors. She was at the top of her field at a young age, and a dear friend of Jesse’s. While the two could not have come from more different worlds, they bonded over some obscure things like miniature scented soaps. Besides, Jesse got injured so much on missions, they practically had to become friends. Angela was huge on doctor patient confidentiality, but that didn’t stop her from chewing Jesse out every single time he came back needing a cast.

If taking health classes was urgent enough for Gabe to kick him off of the latest mission, it had to be some level of important. How important could the whole soulmates thing be ? The elevator dinged and he followed the path he knew by heart to Angela’s office. He knocked on her door.

“Come in!” someone called from the other side.

He stepped inside. The examination room was just like he remembered it. White walls, with neat stacks of papers and books sitting in the corners by a computer desk. He was always impressed by how Angela worked, nothing seemed to get by her despite the clear lack of organization she subjected her belongings to. “Angie! Reckon you have a moment to spare for an old cowboy?”

She looked up from the paper she was reading and instinctively scanned the length of his body. “What appears to be the problem, Jesse? Ah. You’re here so early. Health lessons?”

“Correcto-mundo.”

She stifled a laugh and motioned to the examination table. “Feel free to take a seat, I’ll set up one of the projects. I have time to give you a quick lesson today, but otherwise believe you are just going to have to read a textbook and call me with any pertinent questions. We should also have a quick quiz at the end of the week just to see if you have retained any information. Where would you like to start?”

Jesse started swinging his legs back and forth, and took his hat off to get comfortable. This would be the closest he’d ever gotten to college. “What the hell’s a soulmate, Angela?”

“Ah, yes. That is a fun topic. Let us begin.”

And that is how Jesse finds himself reading through what has got to be the densest book he’s ever laid his pretty brown eyes on. Reading this thing is like trying to breath in a chunky soup. There’s just too much going on for it to be possible, but some find a way to make it happen. Not many, but some. The sun, now past noon, has travelled lower into the sky during the course of the afternoon. He sits on a cliff by the Overwatch base in Gibraltar, after thoroughly being lectured this morning by Dr. Zeigler.

Jesse rolls over, book in hand, and takes a moment to look over the cliff he’s been sitting at the whole time. The sea beneath him crashes into the crook of the precipice, leaving sparkling moisture behind to glitter in the sun. Who needed to go to Japan for a mission anyways? He sighed.

He glanced back down at his textbook. Jesse swears he’s never read so much in his life.

The connection between soulmates has not yet been properly explained by the lengths of modern medicine .

Great. Just what Angela said.

However, there is one documented process that occurs between a pair of soulmates. When an individual instigates skin-to-skin contact with their soulmate for the first time, their touch will leave a mark in the shape of the touch. For example, if a person accidentally bumps into their soulmate and the two touch shoulders, the initiator of the touch (IOT for short) will leave a shoulder shaped imprint on the receiver of the touch (ROT for short). Though the receiver may not see the mark form on their skin automatically, they will automatically feel a connection to their soulmate. However, the IOT will not feel anything short of some shoulder discomfort during this exchange.

Individuals in Markwell’s case study report that a forming soulmate connection feels like being “stuck in a movie montage” (Markwell 40). The ROT will automatically reel through a selection of events from the IOT’s life, and thus, gaining a better understanding of their fated person .

Hm.

When someone first receives their soulmate marking, Markwell reports, “it is common to freeze up as the memories are being transferred from person to person” (Markwell 41). In order to seal the bond and make it permanent, the ROT must then instigate skin-to-skin contact with the original IOT. Otherwise, any received soulmate marks will slowly fade over time, though never completely disappear.

Soulmates do not have to be romantic couples. Some opt for friendship, or other types of relationships. However, the majority of soulmates do end up spending the rest of their lives together in some form, due to the depth of their unique connection.

It is possible for soulmates to never meet, because before initial skin-to-skin contact, there are currently no medical tools available that accurately predict the existence of a soulmate connection between two people. The next section is a photo gallery of soulmate marks .

Ok.

Some of these were pretty funny. There’s an image of someone with a neon purple pair of lips, indicating that their first contact with their soulmate was a kiss. It was so embarrassing Jesse laughed. On another page, someone just had an imprint of a dark yellow hand on their shoulder. That looked kind of cool.

Next page.

Soulmate pairs with an incomplete set of soulmate marks are another story. Individuals that have received a soulmate marking, but whom are unable to reciprocate the marking on their respective soulmate, have a greater chance of developing anxiety or depression. Individuals studied have repeatedly reported feeling listless. This has not yet been thoroughly studied. Psychiatrists predict that this is due to a mixture of reasons.

Scary.

Jesse hoped that this would never happen to him. He hoped to god, the gods, the sky, the flowing rivers and the tall mountains. He hoped this would never happen. But fate had other plans for young Jesse McCree.

#mchanzo #jesse mccree

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smol-and-grumpy · 5 years ago

Text

Sky Full Of Stars - CH09

Sequel to Something Just Like This

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, ex mobster boss, still a little cocky, less ruthless and not at all short tempered anymore. Instead, he thinks he’s hilarious (she doesn’t agree, though). They both try to live a quiet life. And Dean hopes, very hard, that his former life won’t come knocking at their door.

Warnings: Whole lotta angst, NSFW

WC: 2574

SERIES MASTERLIST

Dean doesn’t think he has gotten any sleep at all last night.

After what happened, he immediately called Gabe and Cas, Y/N was listening in, too. She’s still mad at him, he knows that, but she is willing to not give him hell because her number one priority is protecting her family, which, Dean thinks, is the same thing as he wants either.

They talked on the phone for a while but then decided that they’d rather meet in person today.

He wakes up with something on top of him, opening up his eyes, Dean sees Ella straddling him, “Wake up, Daddy!”

Dean smirks and closes his eyes again which prompts Ella to jump up and down on him like he’s a damn horse, and then she starts to poke her finger into his face. First his cheek, then on his lips, his nostrils and then his eyes.

“I’m up, I’m up!” Dean shouts, “I surrender!”

Ella bursts out in a fit of laughter.

After a while, Ella lays herself on top of him, whispers into his ears, “Mommy is sad, she’s crying.”

Dean knows that Y/N’s still in bed with them, knows that she cried herself to sleep, if she even slept at all.

“I know, El-baby, why don’t you go get dressed and play in your room, leave me some time with mommy, huh? I’ll come and get you,”

“Okay,”

What Dean loves about his little girl is that she understands things. Especially when he talks calmly to her. Certainly not a trait she got from him.

He waits until Ella walks out, little footsteps tapping along the floor, waits until she closes the door.

Dean turns around, sees that Y/N faces the other way. She’s laying on her side, he hears her breathing evenly. He moves closer to her, lifts up her blanket and covers himself with it, his arm sneaks around her middle. She doesn’t protest so Dean moves even closer, pressed his chest to her back, melts his body against hers as he noses at the back of her neck, breathes in her scent. She smells like home.

“I got this,” He whispers, placing a kiss on the nape of her neck.

She only sniffs.

Still crying, then.

“Baby,” Dean’s grip tightens around her, and he rolls them around on the bed, it’s still so easy to manhandle her.

He rolls them until she’s on top of him and a tear drips down, right onto his cheeks. He rolls some more, places her next to him so he can look her in the eye as he brushes at her tears with the pad of his thumb.

Dean hates how much it hurts him. How he absolutely hates whenever she cries and he’s the reason for it. Even though, right now he might not be the real reason but he’s a part of it.

“Everything will be okay,” He says, doesn’t really know if he’s saying the truth but he hopes he is. “We’ll find a way,”

She nods at him, her eyes are red and puffy from crying.

“Fuck, I hate to see you like this,” He mutters, leans in, kisses her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. He kisses her lips after, it’s warm and soft, a little wet too, “I need you to stay positive okay? Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t know,” She pushes the words past her lips and they feel like daggers to his heart.

“I won’t let anything bad happen to you or our family, I promise.” Dean kisses between her eyebrows, the place where he wanted to kiss last night. He leaves his lips there, pulls her closer.

Y/N’s pacing around the room, she’d put Neo to bed for his nap and Ella’s watching Frozen on the ipad upstairs so they have a little privacy. Privacy to talk about the impending doom without getting interrupted. Cas’ here and Gabe came around with a couple of his best men.

She doesn’t like the way they all look at her. Doesn’t need their pity, it makes her feel even worse.

Dean shows the men the message she got from Crowley.

“I want you to up your security all around my property.” Dean tells Gabe and the other man nods, “I want all eyes on Y/N and the kids.”

“I don’t understand,” Cas says, “Crowley barely has anyone left who’s loyal to him. How did he manage to pull that off?”

“I don’t know,” Dean says, and he has his hands balled to fists. He’s angry, she knows.

And god knows she is, too.

She paces around, thinks about the bloody situation she’s in, while the men are talking. They go on about a plan, try to come up with something, she doesn’t really listen.

Suddenly, she speaks, “Guys, hear me out,”

Dean’s looking at her as if he’s seen a ghost, and already he’s frowning. Mainly because he knows for a fact that anything that comes out of her mouth won’t be any good, “Baby, no.”

“Yes!” She shouts, “Yes, Dean, because it’s the only way and you know it as much as I do.”

He sighs in defeat and the others just stare at them, “Fine, go on. I’m listening.”

“Crowley clearly wants me,” She starts to say.

“No!” Dean shouts now, too. Louder, and it makes her flinch. “I said what I said, Y/N. No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!” She throws her hand around her.

“I don’t need to hear it because I know exactly what you want to say and no, I’m not fucking giving you up, alright? You’re not going to be any kind of bait!”

“Why not? He clearly has beef with me, not with you guys. If that’s what I need to do to save my family, I’ll do it.”

She wants to, is sure as hell that the only way to stop Crowley from harming her family is to give herself up. She’s about ready to do anything as long as Dean and her children will get to be safe and live their lives to the fullest. They don’t deserve this. Nobody does. And it’s really not a big price to pay. That way she can right all the wrongs she’s done.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dean lets out, rubs over his face with both of his hands, “I can’t believe I’m listening to his fucking bullshit!”

Y/N sits down in an empty chair, wraps her arms around herself and she tires, tries not to fucking cry because mainly she doesn’t want to come across as weak, and secondly, there’s simply no tears left that she can shed. She feels empty, feels fucking numb.

And Dean knows that too, knows that she’s close to tears and she hates that he knows her better than she knows herself. He comes to stand before her, lowers himself onto his knees and cradles her face between his big hands.

He kisses her, soft, tender, and whispers to her, “Baby, I can’t let you do that.”

“Why?” She mumbles but doesn’t look at him, her gaze is still trained downwards.

Dean sighs, kisses her forehead one more, “Do you really think that’ll stop him? Do you think when he gets you where he wants, that he’ll stop? He’ll go after us all, one by one.”

She looks at Cas and Gabe and they both nod in unison.

Gah, she hates that. Hates that Dean always has to be right.

Y/N excuses herself to go upstairs. There’s nothing she can say anymore that will get approval from the five men anyway.

She sits on her bed, looks out the window into the meadow. It’s a windy day, there are clouds in the sky. She’s sure the stars won’t come out tonight.

Taking her phone from her pocket, she types in a message.

Y/N: What do you want?

It baffles her that the answer comes right away.

C: Darling, you’re not dumb. You know what I want.

Y/N: And if you don’t get it?

C: I’ll take everything you love.

There’s tears pooling in her eyes. Apparently the well of tears hasn’t dried down yet.

Y/N: And if you get what you want?

C: I’ll leave them alone.

Y/N: How do I know that you’re not shitting me?

C: I’m not a liar. Never was, never will be, unlike some people.

Y/N: How do you want to get to me?

C: I have many ways but I rather not tell. It’s best if you come meet me.

Her hands are shaking but she types on her phone anyway.

Y/N: When? Where?

C: Wait for my instructions.

Y/N: Okay

C: Tell Ella Fergie misses her

Y/N: Fuck you

She deletes the conversation one by one, only leaving the picture message standing as not to raise suspicion should Dean take a look. Then she pushes herself out of the bed, undresses herself and walks into the bathroom, draws herself a bath. She thinks of drowning her sorrows in alcohol but knows that it wouldn’t help. She needs a clear head to face her children. They deserve that much.

Dean walks along the landing when he sees Ella disappearing into their bedroom. He opens the door and hears a shower running. It smells like bath salts too. Y/N is now probably showering herself off.

Ella’s standing in the middle of the room with her ipad. “Mommy?”

“Hey baby girl, what do you need from mommy, huh?” Dean kneels down in front of Ella.

“Frozen is finished. Can I watch another one, daddy?”

Dean chuckles, “No El-baby, I don’t think I can allow that,”

He can see the little girl pouting. Damn that fucking pout. That’s certainly something she’s got from her mother. “But you know what?”

“What?” He sees Ella frown at him, curious but not quite trusting if it’s going to be better than another movie on an ipad.

“What would you say if you go out with uncle Sammy and auntie Jess for Mc Donald’s and ice cream, huh?”

“Yaaaay!” The girl jumps up and down and Dean smiles.

It’s so easy to cheer a kid up. They’re so innocent and he likes to protect that. Likes to keep them away from all the bad things for as long as he can.

“Then go on down, they’re already waiting down there with your brother.”

“Does he have to come too?”

“Ella, we’ve been through this,” Dean lowers his voice a little.

“Okay, fine. But I’m not talking to him.” She says and Dean has to chuckle. He kisses her forehead and sends her away.

Dean gets up on his feet, walks over to the bed and sits on it, waits for Y/N to come out of the shower.

He stares at his feet, listens to the running water and thinks about what just happened. Thinks about all the things that are fucked up. Five years ago, up until two days ago, his world seemed good, great even. He had everything. And now one fucking leprechaun is threatening to destroy everything he knows and love. Dean can’t let that happen. Not on his fucking watch.

When he comes back to his senses he looks at the watch on the bedside table. She’s been in there awfully long already so Dean gets up, walks to the bathroom to see what’s taking her so long.

The sight that greets him damn near breaks his heart.

Y/N’s on the shower floor, hugging her legs, crying quietly into her knees.

Dean doesn’t hesitate, goes right in fully clothed, pulls her up and into his chest, “Baby,” His voice sounds broken, “Fuck,”

Her body goes rigid and she pushes him away, making him stagger a couple of steps back. Dean watches her, he’s near tears himself.

He tries again, pushing himself against her, grabs her by her arms and pulls her in. She’s hitting his chest, hands balled into fists as she drums against it.

She’s sobbing, cries and shouts, “Why don’t you let me do this? Fuck you, Dean. Fuck you!”

Dean’s crying, he doesn’t know what to do so he does the only thing he knows that will take the pain away, at least for a short time. He knows that he fucking needs to feel it, needs to feel a sense of normality for a short moment, and he knows that she needs it too. So he lifts her up and crowds her against the shower wall, kisses her deep and hard, pours all his feeling into the kiss, says things without speaking, I won’t fucking let you go, and a warning, Don’t fucking dare leave me.

Y/N still cries against the kiss but she kisses him back, equally hard and deep, her tongue restless inside of his mouth, drinking in his sorrows, his fears, spills hers into him.

“Fuck me,” She whispers, holding him around his neck tighter, and Dean’s soaked his shirt and pants, even his socks, he doesn’t care, “Make it go away, Dean. Fuck me, please,”

“Okay,” He whispers back, “Okay,”

He pins her harder against the wall, one hand still holding her up while he fumbles blindly at his belt. He kisses her again, gives her no time to think about anything else, tries to fill her head with want and need and not with Crowley and sorrow, until he can free his cock.

Dean peels and pushes the fabrics down his body one handed, manages to lower them past his cock and balls and he strokes himself before pushing the head of his dick against her entrance. He lowers her a little while he fucks up into her at the same time, is still kissing her when he feels the warmth of her walls hugging his cock tight. She moans into the kiss but she doesn’t stop either, kisses him more and more while Dean moves his hips up, fucks into her slow and steady.

Breaking the kiss, Dean leaves his forehead on hers, kisses her eyes when she closes them, her nose, her lips, “‘M sorry,” He says between thrusts, “‘M sorry for not telling you sooner.”

She doesn’t say anything, buries her face into the crook of his neck and sucks at his throat.

He fucks up, a little faster, a little harder, getting himself deeper as she likes it and lowers his face to her neck, “Promise me, baby,” He says between pants, “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” Dean thrusts three more times and feels her coming on his cock, he’s so close himself, “Promise me you won’t leave me, that you won’t leave us.” Dean comes, sinks his teeth into the flesh of her shoulder.

He dries her off later, carries her into the bed, helps her into her clothes before he peels his own wet ones from his body.

There’s a knock at the door and Dean watches as Y/N lifts herself off the bed, dashing down the stairs to open up. He hears Ella’s happy squeals when she sees her mommy, hears Neo’s babble and imagines Y/N taking him into her arms.

Dean takes his time, changes into dry sweats and a shirt and then he remembers that Y/N didn’t promise him anything in the showers. He hopes deeply that the kids can change her mind.

CH10

#sky full of stars #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x you #nathalie writes

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multsicorn · 5 years ago

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multsicorn’s infinite fic playlist

some friends in a chat were talking about comfort fic! so I have Made A List. Ten of my very favorite fics to reread when I need a boost, in ten different fandoms. In no order. And with no particular theme, that I can tell. They’re probably all more-or-less mostly self-contained enough to work even if you don’t know the canon? Certainly the Hockey RPF fic is (cause I don’t know anything about the canon there!), and who doesn’t know HP, etc....

.... four are about fucked-up families, (cause I find that cathartic, and people dealing with it comforting), two are polyfic, (because more relationships interacting to me means ~more love~), three are really mostly about the ~feel~ of the universe, (the fun mundanity of a not-quite-mundane canon universe! or of a perfectly balanced space au), and then the last one is... about how to know if you’re in love on one side of it, and about how to get over it on the other (because how does one romance).

the ones about fucked-up families:

When The Lights Go Out, Will You Take Me With You? by narceus (Glee, Kurt/Blaine, m, ~11k). I love the way that it punches out my heart and then puts it back together? Lmao, that’s very personal. But I love the way that - what can I say. This isn’t a fic about romance, it’s a fic about family - well. How sometimes your family is your boyfriend, and your mutual friends, how sometimes ‘family’ is something you have to leave, and real family is something you build. ‘This is exactly what it’s like,’ and it’s wish-fulfillment, and, yes, somehow it’s both of those things.

You can run away with me any time you want.

Come Marching Home by ossapher (American Revolution RPF/Hamilton, Hamilton/Laurens, t, ~9k). Fraught relationships with family members who think they love you but they really really don’t are my jam, and the way that this fic deals with a younger still-dependent sibling who’s caught in the middle between John and his horrible father is especially my jam. Also, fics that transform a complicated set of characters/relationships/etc. from canon to a completely other setting thoughtfully, which this fic ‘verse has a lot of fun with.

John Laurens attempts to reconcile with his U.S. Senator dad after years of minimal contact. It's family, though, so nothing goes as planned.

Theft of Assets, Destruction of Property by Helenish (Harry Potter, Draco/Neville, e, ~23k). I love the way that Draco here builds a life up out of nothing. It’s very cozy from one angle, full of cooking and baking and making a house a home, but it also goes hard on the way that abused children will internalize their situation as the expected baseline of life, which I appreciate very much.

Surely it is a mistake to allow a single youthful indiscretion to cloud an already promising career.

A Month of Sundays by Kelfin (Hockey RPF, Erik Johnson/Gabriel Landeskog, m, ~69k). I love the push-pull of a relationship that naturally slides very quickly into something very close and intimate, that keeps being pulled back from that by Erik’s internalized homophobia. I love the way the story negotiates the very real knock-on effects of that on Gabe, his maybe-maybe-not partner, and the way the Erik negotiates ‘I love my family... but they don’t love me.’

Unlike some guys, who freak out when things get even a little bit gay, Erik is fine with this stuff. Erik's not even fazed when Gabe's attempts at flirting with him start to get semi-public, a fact that, by his own judgment, makes him at least five to seven times more tolerant than your average forward-thinking American.

the polyfics:

Everything That You Can Keep by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (Vorkosigan Saga, Aral/Jole, backgroundy Aral/Cordelia, e, ~30k). I love this story’s negotiation of not just polyamory (and I love negotiation of polyamory stories - how two people in one relationship share feelings about yet another person, and figure things out? yes, please), but specifically of all the added complications that come out in the highly hierarchical, secretive, and loyalty-based Vor society. When even asking about asking is a matter of trust, requested and given? That goes straight to my id.

The impossible takes a little more time, a lot of negotiation.

Love: The Package Deal by jjtaylor (Bandom, Frank/Gerard/Lindsey/Jamia, m, ~30k). I love the way that the different relationships are layered over and relate to each other - that’s one of the big things I like about polyfic - and the way that the amnesia smashes them together by bringing a past relationship to the present, while making the present one abstract and back to square one. I love how the amnesia in fact smashes together all the highs and lows of eventful years’ worth of Gerard’s life: artistic success, problems with drugs and addiction... they’re all right there waiting for you.

Gerard gets a special kind of amnesia. Frank gets to reexamine his idea of acceptable relationship structures. Lots of people fail to communicate effectively, but they all sure remember how to kiss.

the cozy weirdness of the universe:

it's a new craze by attheborder (Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, t, ~6k). The development of the relationship strikes a nice balance between angst and sweetness, but what I really come back to this fic for is the fictional advice podcast! That Aziraphale and Crowley start together, which it’s about, and the way that they sprinkle their up-close experience of history into their discussion on it - and then the way that the fandom latches onto and tries to make sense of that. It is just, purely, A DELIGHT.

CROWLEY: I try not to make a habit of gratitude, but I must give our appreciation to everyone out there who’s been listening and subscribing to The Ineffable Plan. AZIRAPHALE: Ooh, yes, we’ve become quite popular, haven’t we? CROWLEY: Yeah, just hit number eight on the advice charts … No advertising at all. AZIRAPHALE: Mm. How … miraculous. CROWLEY: … Aziraphale. You did not.

***

Crowley and Aziraphale are very possibly the people least qualified, on the entire planet, to start up an advice podcast.

But what else is there to do when the world isn’t ending anytime soon, you’re technically on indefinite sabbatical from your lifelong careers, and you need a plausible excuse to spend more time with your best friend who you’re definitely not, absolutely not, maybe just a little, actually maybe overwhelmingly in love with?

A Resolution of Territory by arboretum (Hikaru no Go, Hikaru/Akira, e, ~10k). I just love imagining spending my life playing Go, okay! This fic is wonderfully immersive in a weird-but-good everyday reality, of spending your whole life immersed in a game that just fascinates you, alongside your friends - and your boyfriend, too, which is to say, the one person who shares your fascination in the most direct and deepest and mutually obsessive way. Eventually he’s your boyfriend, of course.

The point is, life is hectic, but it's good.

The Vastness of Space by shysweetthing (Yuri on Ice, Victor/Yuuri, e, ~17k). I love the way that the space setting here gives scope for best-friends-and-partners, for cute and amusing low-stakes shenanigans and then cleverly solved higher-stakes adventure. I love how sweet Victor and Yuuri are in caring for each other in dire circumstances, and why they both see each other as beyond their reach in the context of this imagined world.

As chief communications officer on board the Interstellar Alliance Fleet’s Star Ship Victory, Yuuri doesn’t have to think about who he actually is on his home planet. He just has to listen to his captain, do his job, and…not fall in love with his best friend, the ship’s science officer, Victor Nikiforov.

Well. Two out of three’s not bad.

Then his mother calls with the worst possible news: She, the Empress of New Nihon, has arranged Yuuri’s marriage. There’s only one thing Yuuri can do: Fake a boyfriend, and fake one fast. Who better/worse to play that role than the friend he wishes was more? What can go wrong? It’s not like Yuuri can fall more in love...

the how does romance (with my beloved controversial otp):

if you change your mind by leetlebird (Check, Please!, Jack/Parse, e, ~35k). I love the way this story shows Jack trying to work out what love means for him, anyway, and Kent learning to deal with and work around feelings that he thinks for most of the story are unrequited. And the cozy jury-rigged domesticity of especially the final chapters/scenes.

Beneath the table, Jack’s hand squeezes around Kent’s knee. And -- Kent forgets. For just a few seconds, he forgets that they can’t be together, that Jack doesn’t want him in that way, that he’s trying to move on.

“We’re friends, right?” Jack says.

“Yeah, Zimms,” he says. “We’re friends.”

Or: Kent and Jack are friends, then friends-with-benefits, then maybe something more. Kent isn’t sure.

#*#fic recs #anyway i spent enough time writing this post i hope someone likes it #but if not at least i got to Examine My Preferences? lol

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malexmalereader · 6 years ago

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Gabriel Reyes x Male!Reader - if only they had known

A/N: Truth is, I have not once played overwatch - mainly because my Computer can't run it and I'm one poor son of a bitch that can't afford a new one, nevertheless I love these characters and enjoy writing about them, so excuses in advance if they are a bit out of character.

TW: Loss of a loved one, angst and me not knowing how to write said angst.

Here's the song referenced in this one

Love doesn't last. Love leaves. Love dies - metaphorically and literally speaking. In this case, to everyone's grief, if had happened literally.

We can't decide who meets their maker, as long as we aren't those who killed the man. If you're not the one pulling the trigger to end someone else's lifes, again, the literal or metaphorical trigger, then it's hardly your fault.

Gabriel Reyes had experienced loss. And there was nothing that he could've done to prevent it from happening.

"I'm going on a regular mission, honey, I'll be back before you guys know it."

His husband had smiled while saying that. Ruffled his daughters hair...the memory of her deceased brother still very much present, even two years after.

The six year old giggled as her father planted a kiss on her forehead.

"I know cariño...just be careful."

"Always am."

And that's how he, presumably, died. He never came back. He never showed up again. His finals moments that he probably had to face alone made Gabriel die a little more inside. The thought of his husband, slowly meeting his end, kept him up at night.

And here Gabriel Reyes is now. Attending the funeral for a man whose body was never found.

He's sitting next to his daughter, who'd already experienced way too much loss for someone her age, on his other side his friend Jack Morrison, who'd apparently tried everything to find the presumably deceased man. Of course he tried everything. But Gabriel had doubts. If Jack had truly 'tried everything' to find (y/n), he'd be here. And if not alive, then at least in the coffin.

You could hear sobs as a song started playing. Everything was going how Mister Reyes would've wanted it. Everything was in his testament, and yet Gabriel couldn't bear to listen to the song ever again.

He knew he won't be able to.

'Since I don't want my funeral to be a sad get together, and more of a celebration of my life, play something not too heart wrenching: how about doing alright? Gabe will know which one I mean.'

Gabriel had received the majority of his husband's belongings for now. It would be passed onto his child and family friends once he too, would burn out and die.

Someone steps up to the pedestal as the song faded out. Jack Morrison. He had prepared a speech. Gabriel couldn't.

Mister Reyes was an undercover agent for Overwatch. Less open battlefields and more... sophisticated investigation.

"(y/n) Reyes was more than an excellent agent and more than a good man. No matter what was happening, he'd lend an open ear to both his older and younger colleagues. He was impartial and willing to...willing to hear both sides of a story, always keeping a cool head before making hard decisions.

He could bring people back on the ground like no-one else could and...was an incredible personality.

He managed to tame and capture the beast that I know our good friend Gabriel Reyes is-" that line earned a few, genuine chuckles, though it just made Gabe's tears fall. He'd told himself he wouldn't cry, but here he is now, tears dripping from his eyes, pulling his daughter a bit closer, who was shaking and crying, too.

"Put a ring on his finger and adopted two beautiful children, one of which he now can be together with again. Although his thoughts on what happens after death always were filled with doubt, maybe he can finally find peace.

And I'm sure he is where he wanted to go.

So let's remember him for who he was: A friend. Not a stone cold agent, but a bright encounter at the headquarters."

And with that Jack Morrison stepped away.

The funeral ended after the wooden hearse was let into the ground and all the people spoke out condolences to Gabriel and his child. Gabriel didn't want a party. 'a celebration of his life' as his husband would've called it. The other people? They were all attending. But he wasn't. At least not yet. He was still standing Infront of the grave with his child. The grave of his husband right next to the one of their first son, Philip. Philip Reyes.

"Dad?", The six year old girl asked, still tightly holding her father's hand. "Yes Amanda?", He replied, his voice tired, but loving.

"He's... Papa's not coming back, is he?", She asks, staring at the ground, her eyes filling with tears. "Is he with Phillip now?", She sobs and Gabriel kneels down.

"I'm sure he is...", He mumbles, pulling his daughter into a hug. Nothing he could say would make this better. Nothing anyone could even think of saying to comfort the two of them would bring light to the dark.

"Boss?", Jesse carefully raises his voice, his head tilted slightly in worry. For him both Mister Reyes's had always been immovable forces. Two people that he never thought he'd see in tears...but here his Boss was. Mourning the loss of his husband.

It was more than unsettling.

"'m sorry for...your...", Jesse, too, was close to tears. The Reyes's were like a family to him, and Mister Reyes was like a father.

"Yer loss...", He finishes, swallowing harshly.

Amanda wrangles herself out of her dad's arms and walks over to Jesse, embracing the young man's legs, still crying.

Jesse's expression continued breaking, until he too, was practically weeping.

Gabriel sighed and stood up, walking over to the young agent, pulling him into an embrace.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. This is not how he should've gone. It should've been me. The thought pounded into Gabriel's head again and again. Blackwatch should've taken on that mission.

Little did they know, as they were standing and crying, that a little beep sounded from a machine, in tact with (y/n) Reyes's heart.

Little did they know where he woke up.

Little did they know of Talons plans.

If only they had known...

#gabriel reyes #gabriel reyes x reader #gabriel reyes x male!reader #male!reader #x male reader #overwatch #overwatch x male!reader #overwatch x male reader #male reader insert #male!reader insert #reaper x male!reader #reaper x reader

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creaturedom · 6 years ago

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Miscalculation (Part 4)

You didn’t think this was over yet, did you..? 😎

I’m thinking there’s gonna be oooone more part after this, but thank you all for the continued support as always! This part is a tiny bit sexual, I guess..? So tiny warning there technically, but I don’t think it’s bad, hope you guys enjoy!

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three]

“Huh’tschhuuh!”

“Five.”

“H-Heh-! Tschhoo!”

“Six-“

“—Ptschh, tschhh!”

“Eig.... Fuck is that eight or nine, I lost count.” Crowley grinned as Aziraphale glanced up with great annoyance, behind yet another soaked handkerchief. Once more his face was redder than an apple, eyes streaming with tears almost as quickly as his nose was.

A day had passed since Crowley invited Aziraphale and consequently Dog to stay in his lovely flat away from the Young’s cleverly protected home. After some time near the window and another shower it seemed Aziraphale was doing better, but it seemed every time he was able to breathe again he would find some way to fuck it up.

“He needed a walk,” Crowley heard the night before between two wet sneezes “He has to be walked in the morning and afternoon, and I forgot!” Other excuses included Dog needing to be fed, played with, and more than anything attention. The angel made it sound as if the hellhound would roll over and die if he didn’t have his tummy rubbed every five seconds, and at this point it was really hard to gauge considering he was just caught again with his hands on Dog. At first there was a bit of chiding, but seeing as he was putting this on himself, it seemed Crowley needed a different approach.

“No no, don’t stop on my account! Your record is twelve, you’re real close ta beatin’ it!” Aziraphale coughed a bit into the handkerchief before pulling it away, moving to wipe his nose, only to wince as the tender skin was brushed against “Crowley, please...”

“Nooo, I insist! How’s about you get a few kisses from your new boyfriend, I’m sure he’ll be happy to help you coax out some more before brunch~.” Aziraphale glared a moment before his shoulders sank in utter defeat. It wasn’t his fault, Dog was whimpering at his side of the bed, clearly chilly and alone without his true master... Aziraphale couldn’t leave him, that would have been cruel. Though, at the moment, the fact his nose and sinuses were throbbing seemed crueler than letting the little one sleep on the floor.

“It’s d-dot... Hdghh, dot fuddy, Crowley!”

“Ohhh, I have to disagree with you there,” he crossed his legs and reclined in his throne “I personally think it’s hilarious to be startled awake by wet sneezing and the scramble of little paws all over my nice sheets. I think it’s even funnier that you’re not learning your lesson, but that’s just my own opinion..”

Aziraphale merely sighed, pushing his nose into the handkerchief once more and forcing himself to blow as hard as he could. Problem was, with how stuffed up he was, it made it difficult to get out much of anything with just a blow. He looked absolutely exhausted, but was hardest to ignore was just how unsteady he looked on his feet. Crowley couldn’t tell whether it was due to being lightheaded or simply a lack of rest between sneezes, but now felt like the time to ease up a little. “Let’s just get out of here, have a nice breakfast in town, you and me..”

“You dow I... I caddTSCHhxx!” He painfully pinched his nose shut, at the last moment, pulling back with a weary sigh “Gotta... G-Gotta watch Dog... He wod’t leave be adyway...” The demon huffed softly and stood to take the other by the shoulders, nuzzling his cheek with the tip of his nose tenderly “Then let’s go back to my room, or go on a walk, or something... Aziraphale you’re only getting worse, you need to take a break.”

“Do, I— Hih’tscHHhxx-! Ngh-gHHhtt, tSCHhxxhuhh-!” Crowley lifted a hand to pull away Aziraphale’s, who had pinched his nose once more. The result was a shudder and a soft whine, and that oh so tear filled look in those gorgeous eyes of his “Let em out, you’re gonna off yourself keepin’ em in like that. I won’t count this time, promise... Though that must have been eleven on the count.” Aziraphale shoved him a bit, but Crowley caught a glimpse of a small smile. “Just a small break, just you and me. Dog’s not gonna go anywhere, and I do think it’s a little sad we haven’t so much as touched the wine collection...” That, and a lingering kiss was enough to get the angel wiggling and smiling again.

“I’b a bess, by voice is dodexistadt, add you really wadt to play this gabe..?” Crowley’s nose wrinkled playfully as a smug grin split his lips “Could be worse: could be the start of the Industrial age, all that itchy soot floating in the air, your new suit nearly as ruined as your dripping face...” Aziraphale’s eyes widened and once more he shoved Crowley, looking utterly mortified as he tried to squeak something out. Unfortunately he was thwarted by another soft cough, pausing to grasp at his throat with a pained groan. Taking the cue Crowley kissed the crook of his neck and brushed back a few loose curls “Wash up and meet me in the study.”

Nothing sent a chill up the angel’s spine quite like the tender actions Crowley pulled every now and again. He may have stumbled over his words sometimes, even struggled to express his true feelings when he needed to most, but he was just so good at the little things in life... Shaking his head and gasping with a sudden “Hrrh’TSCHhhoo!” He drug himself into the bathroom for yet another steamy shower, with Dog thankfully waiting outside for him to re-emerge. When Aziraphale did emerge, he looked at least more aware than before. Hair nicely dried and bouncing once more, a suit that wasn’t too dressy, but still nice enough to be presentable, and a fresh handkerchief tucked in his pocket. The only thing that hadn’t really gone away was the pink hue against his nostrils, which looked at least a little less aggressive compared to before, but no doubt it was still quite sensitive.

Dog sat up and began rushing around the angel’s feet as usual, even hopping up onto his hind legs to spin excitedly, but as much as it pained Aziraphale his antics were not rewarded. Instead the angel did his best to smile at him and walk ahead, which proved to be a bit difficult. Dog almost looked insulted by him passing, and even started skipping in front of him as if trying to trip the angel on his way. But with great determination and lots of side stepping Aziraphale managed to make it to the study, where Crowley was already standing in the doorway with two wine glasses in hand.

“Angel, lovely to see you, please hurry inside!” Aziraphale smiled and took the glass, stepping inside with great haste. What he didn’t expect was to hear the slam of the door, followed by a thud and yelp. When he turned back, Crowley was reclined against the closed door, looking elsewhere and sipping his drink quietly, with no Dog to be seen “... Did... Did you just slam the door in his face?”

“Hm? Whose what now?”

“Crowley-!” The angel moved to grab the doorknob and was stopped by a firm, but well meaning hand “Ah-ah, he’s fine, you promised you’d take a break the moment you stepped into the shower.”

“But what if he’s hurt, or worried, or-!” He was cut short by a frustrated yapping.

“Well, I��d say you may be right, but if he’s got the energy to do that I’m pretty sure the little runt is doing just fine.” He held up his glass to the other “To a sneeze free afternoon..?” Hesitation, silence, it was all settling in. But this just made the clink of their glasses sing against the quiet walls of the study “Just... Just one glass. It’s still distasteful to drink in the morning...”

“It’s eleven, Angel, I’m sure someone will find time to forgive us.” Smiling back at one another their arms locked and they began to drink together. It always started with one glass, and then another because Crowley would insist he couldn’t feel the first. Aziraphale would then say he wanted to try a different kind of wine, and Crowley would be more than happy to oblige. This is how their system was, and this is what lead to the two of them laughing and snorting away on the couch, Crowley leaned back as usual and Aziraphale against one of the arms of the couch with his feet propped against the thinner man’s lap.

“Gabriel never even said thank you, can you believe that? I pass along his message, tell- hic-! Tell Mary very puuhh... No, politely the news, and when I come back, he’s taken the credit, not even resting his ‘broken’ wing!”

“Ooof, that basssstard...” Crowley caught his own slip and snorts out a laugh “S’better than Beelzebubahhh- fuckin’ comin’ outta nowhere an— an, an doin’ that- bzzzzt thing, with the face an- face!”

“What on earth are you talking about..?” Aziraphale grins at the shocked look on Crowley’s face, the poor thing stumbling horribly over his words before forming anything nearly coherent again “Flies, the damn buzzin’, gettin’ all over an in your mouth- I’ve seen where those things ‘ave been, it’s terrible!”

“There’s no flies here, nooo, shooosh...” Aziraphale puts his glass on the coffee table and holds out his arms for the other. This in turn makes Crowley pout as he shifts and wriggles to rest on top of Aziraphale’s soft body, held securely as he continues to ramble “They’re everywhere Angel, in the fillin’ room, the, the- damn break room, all over...”

“Mm, and you never have to see it again...” Crowley shot him a confused look, but that soon turned into wide eyes and a hearty laugh “Never, ever!”

“Never’s far as I can see it, and same with m’self.. Hic!” The two laughed together, Aziraphale’s body shaking with each wonderful laugh and in turn shaking Crowley’s thin frame as well. As they settled though Crowley was staring at him in a haze, still smiling all goofy and reaching up to trace his fingers over Aziraphale’s tender cheeks. “Why’d we have to wait so long ta meet... Y’coulda helped with a galaxy, maybe two, we coulda run off in the stars, away from all that mess...” His fingertips came up the side of his nose and traced the bridge ever so slowly, making Aziraphale shiver “JuuUUuuust the two of us...~”

Aziraphale couldn’t help sniffing a bit, glancing away a bit nervously with a chuckle “O-Oh come now, if we did that we probably would’ve gotten lost in the stars...”

“N’what’s so wrong with that? I like the stars, I helped make em pretty...” Idly his fingers were playing with the other’s nose, just light brushes to the side and a little to the nostrils. He could see them quivering, feel the little puffs of warm air starting to push out “You’re adorable, when yer nose gets all scrunched an pink, and ya get that little glaze in yer eyes...”

“C—Crowley, waihhihht...” Aziraphale’s features contorted, quickly turning his face away as a sharp gasp sounded “Hih’pTSCHhh! Guhh... I thought you said no sneezing this afternoon...” He teased the other, though he noticed a little glint in those round yellow eyes. “Bit of a silly rule, if you’re just gonna prod like that...”

Crowley merely smiled at this and brushed against Aziraphale’s nose again “It’s like a game... I start strokin’, and soon enough...”

“C-Crow— Crowley- hAH’TSCHhhoo!”

“Ya go off again...” He chuckles, amused by the fact Aziraphale forced his face to the side again. He scoots up higher to plant a few kisses against his cheek and jawline, working his way to the angel’s lips with a toothy grin. Of course Aziraphale wasn’t about to complain, even readjusting himself so the two of them could rest more comfortably while the kissing continued. Crowley felt the others fingers brushing back his thick hair and moaned softly, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing his forehead against Aziraphale’s. “I wanna stay like thisss... Right here...” He cooed, rubbing his nose teasingly against Aziraphale’s. A huge mistake, in the angel’s book.

His eyes screwed shut, breath hitched almost painfully, but as his face moved to turn away, he was stopped by two hands. And, too late to hold back, he sneezes towards Crowley’s chest in a fine mist “Hurrtschhhh! Hatschhhoo!” The only interesting thing was, he couldn’t tell if the moan he heard came from himself, or his companion. But, he seemed to have the answer when he looked up to apologize, only to be met with a passionate kiss.

Whatever had possessed the demon Aziraphale couldn’t be sure, but in this moment, he couldn’t care less. The two were intertwined once more, and even with the lingering tickle it seemed it wasn’t going to be enough to tear the two of them apart. It only seemed to push them closer, with the exception of tearing off their suits and whatnot...

By the time dinner rolled around the two of them finally stumbled off the couch and removed the alcohol from their systems. Nails scratching against the floor outside the study indicated that Dog was up and alert of the new movement again, but they both took a moment to straighten up. “So... How much longer is the hellhound staying?”

“Adam left Friday morning, so it’s Saturday now.. We should have until Monday morning, if I’m not mistaken.” Aziraphale glanced over with a small grin, Crowley seeming to blush and quickly move away to open the door for Aziraphale “Right, right, sounds good...”

“Would you like to accompany us on the next walk, after dinner then..?” Crowley looked the other up and down, smirking at the sight.

“Think they let mutts into the Ritz?”

#sneeze fic #creaturedom #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #allergies #sneezing #Dog

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jardin-de-l-imagination · 5 years ago

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#1/?

I'm kinda planning of writing a Percy Jackson fic? So excuse my rant here of what I have planned I just kinda wanna have it written out and given some feedback hopefully before I really start. Some stuff might be triggering for some people. Including drugs, alcohol, rape, abuse, and self hate so far. Percy isn't a go happy guy, and hasn't been for awhile in the books. Btw REALLY LONG OMG.

Percy is gonna be a bit younger because I for some reason wanna have it cross over with marvel. Sorry. And ship him with Peter. Also sorry but not really.

The first changes is gonna be with Sally and a little bit of how she raised Percy. She teaches him of mythology and languages because she also knows many and knows it'll do him good because they're in the same area of where Greek is commonly used. Italian, Crotian, and Romanian, her family went around and had good taste. I wanna have Sally be a Roman legacy but I'm not sure of who just yet.

The second chapter would be his early preteens and his love/addiction of blue food. Kinda innocent and his relation of blue foods and his love for his Ma. As he grows older and Gabe gets in the picture his addiction of blue foods changes to drugs and alcohol from Gabe threatening them. He wants them to depend on them and him. The rape starts from the beginning of Gabe's relationship/marriage with Sally to be honest. Maternity rape is real and I doubt she always meant yes but would say it so he wouldn't hurt her more. He definitely would threaten the other (Sally / Percy) of harm of the other (Percy / Sally) if they were to misbehave. He'll eventually get himself out of it and help Sally recover while they're still stuck with Gabe. He goes back to loving blue food and uses it as a replacement whenever he has a craving.

The third would be his experience with school. Dyslexia and ADHD shows up right when he starts and some teachers reach out to Sally on ways to "fix him". She doesn't wanna have him depend on medication, definitely happy with that when Gabe happens, so he suffers with explaining " yes I have ADHD and dyslexia, no I'm not making it up to not pay attention" to everyone in every school he ever goes to. Some schools he has good teachers that believe him and wanna help him find ways to learn with his different types of dyslexia because of course he'll have more than what's common in a demigod. Sometimes he wouldn't get expelled from school but would have to deal with a suspension and have to find a way to hide it from Sally and Gabe. He learns better with facial reading and lying throughout these years. He'll have good relations with history, language, tech, and music teachers. Also the lunch and security and front desk people. He got along better with people older then him than people in his class.

The next might just be various moments with Gabe and his friends with either Sally saving him, one of Gabe's okay friends helping him, him turning things for the worse before he learns "the system*1", or with Gabe winning. Includes him learning how to apply makeup to hide bruises, lying about marks and cuts, how to heal stuff quicker, getting rid of smells, sewing, packing clothes tightly, and emergency numbers and places. Thoughts of running away and making things better for his Ma. Self hate and doubt of his reasons for living any longer. Decides running away would be better but he can't bring himself because he loves, is loyal to, her. That's brings MONEY MAKING. I grew up with people making money selling anything in school so he will too and will market off of this for any emergency because Gabe always takes his and Sally's money. Selling simple things like pencils and gum, later cool erasers that teachers confescated that he stole in return. Eventually he had to stop and find new ways to make money, and what's one quick way in New York? Drugs. NO!!.

*1 the system is based on what I learned growing up. If I had a good morning then I'll have a terrible night, Terrible morning then a good night. But sometimes you had to look for signs when it might just be a bad day overall. Conversations, how the person is acting (agitated, short temper, not patient), moody with everything from; lights, sounds, smells, how things are organized, nothing is good enough, privacy. The slightest thing that was good meant nothing when that person had more control of how your day would go. Of course this is my experience personally and I'ma add this in this fic.

He goes about using his talents with music to make some money. He can't risk Gabe, his friends, or even sally recognizing him so he always hides himself and would freestyle on the violin or guitar that he is able to keep at school because he's part of band. It keeps his away from home till Sally is out of work. He got into music because it was always calming to him and helps him concentrate. Sally was able to get him a chance to learn some before Gabe stopped them. Sometimes if there's a piano he'll play that too. Once he's makes money he carefully and reluctantly uses some for better equipment such as speakers and a microphone. His friendship with Peter is helpful with making it easy to bring around or stash at his place once he drops out of band or doesn't even joins his new schools band.*2. They would sometimes go out and just be dumb boys and fool around, Peter for fun and Percy for future possible survival and fun. Who can I connect with that will give me a discount? Who is less attentive of their stock? Where does the best wallets come from? Who accepts homeless and when? Libraries?

*2 this goes with my headcannon of Percy having more power, specifically pertaining to Sirens. Overall his voice is pleasing to listen to. When he's young it's nothing exceptional and are expecting someone to try and make him famous but as he grows up and sings more and gets more comfortable his voice is more smooth and silky. The mood of the songs can also affect people listening and draws people's attention and usually leads to him having people crowd around him whenever he's performing. He sometimes works with Peter with him dancing. He doesn't typically do pop songs since he likes rock music more so he'll change songs to him mood and tempo more fitting to what he enjoys.

He meets Peter when he and Sally are recovering. To disguise their time using money for drugs they'll go around walking or making up for lost time. She treats Percy as a silent thank you to a trip to the aquarium in Queens. There he meets Peter who is recovering from his traumatic friendship with Skip. They make quick friends and Sally and May and Ben make plans because they haven't seen their kid be this happy in a long time.

He becomes insomniac pretty early on even before the horrors of being a demigod. Someone once broke in their apartment and Gabe took it out on them so now he's even more sensetive to any sounds he hears at night. Either from his Ma crying, Gabe and his friends, or nightmares keeping him up. He usually sleeps under his bed because of Gabe putting his stuff on his bed and trashing his room. He'll wake up and go under the blankets when he hears Sally's footsteps coming to his room to not worry her.

Going to school is a blessing and a curse because that means no Gabe but that also means no Sally sadly. He constantly has to make a choice be happy for now? Or prepare for when that happiness goes away later. Meaning, do I hang out with Peter or do I go and make money street performing. Do I go to a school far from home so that I don't have to see Gabe but not see Sally, but that means she won't have to worry.

Once he finds out he's a demigod imagine all the self hate he gets. Any possible talents he thought he had. Anything that made him him, his love of blue, the sea, his features ( sure Sally would say he looks like his father he hoped he still had something that was from her, something that was just him ). But nope it all connects to Poseidon. Everything he likes and was confident about came from him. He wasn't anything special. He was just made to be used for their wars and fights and prophecy since they can't be involved but they don't wanna die from at the same time.

He knows of mythology with the help of his small closest group of friends and family, not what's taught at camp. He treats Medusa kinder and begs her to understand why he needs to continue and relates to her pain and apologies for what his birth father did to her. She allows him to kill her for a way to get rid of his pain Gabe. At camp he puts on a different kind of mask because he has no idea who he is at the beginning. A demigod? What the fuck?? What does that mean for him then? He's lost so he dumbs himself down. He has street smarts so he needs to get a layout of the place and the people. What's the stereotypes of groups. Who's the outliers. Where can I be me and with who. With Clarisse he hides what experience he has with fighting to seem weaker, the talk of prophecy can't be good and he didn't want anything with it. And with the talk of prophecy from the girl with blonde princess curls, and he feels used throughout their journey for a bit because this is what she wanted isn't it? To go out in the world and use her brain for better things. He's worried that she'll be like this onwards that this friendship is temporary just for her gain. Thankfully she stays. Watching his mother "die" from the Minotaur hurts him terribly because of course it's gonna be his fault that she dies. When he falls from his fight against Ecihdina and Chimera it pushes him to embracing the water side of him more and look tried gettingcontrol of it. Although the trap set by Hephaestus is rigged it doesn't push for Aphrodite to ship Percy with Annabeth. She can see he has doubt of even friendship and she stays respectful of that. Not everyone can cope with grief with romance. He meets Nico and Bianca at the casino but isn't able to pull them out. He doesn't make the connection till the next time he meets them. His loyalty brings him to the underworld wanting his mother back and his growing loyalty to the camp with the date drawing near for the solstice. He knew Hades couldn't be at fault and explaining so to him and Persephone builds his future relationship with them. His fight against Ares is helped by Posedion but also his growing anger of him wanting to endanger his friends. Luke still betrays everyone and everyone knows. He returns to his mom and Peter and life goes on.

Okay this a part one for a planning rant I'm going to sleep now

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #peter parker #percy x peter #marvel #triggers #up coming fanfic #possibly #highly likely #anyone interested?#spider man

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magicalmarauder · 6 years ago

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Forever and Always

A/N: Hi! I am new to writing on here and am super nervous! This is my very first story ever, so I hope you guys like it!

Summary: This is a To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before imagine that I thought up with Peter Kavinsky x Reader where the reader overhears him talking negatively about her with some friends at a party. A little bit of angst, but with a fluffy ending! Hope you enjoy!

You couldn’t believe it. You, Y/F/N Y/L/N, were dating thePeter Kavinsky. As in the most popular, most coveted boy in the entire school. Probably in the entire county even. You still didn’t even know how it had happened. You were one of the quietest people in the school, definitely content to sit alone with a good book as your only companion rather than surrounded by a crowd of people. But somehow Peter had taken notice of you. After approaching you one day while you were reading on the bleachers and somehow recovering from the spaz attack you had once he first approached you, you struck up a conversation with one another and the rest was history. You guys had been dating for the last four months now and you could honestly say it was the best four months of your life.

Never would you have thought that you would be in this position right now. The shy, quiet bookworm dating the popular, hot lacrosse player. It definitely felt like it was a plot from a movie, but somehow it had become your everyday reality and you wouldn’t change a thing.

Peter was definitely not what you had expected. You tried to be open-minded and not judge someone before getting to know them, but sometimes it was hard to help. Due to Peter’s reputation, you had always kind of expected him to be stuck-up, full of himself, and to be a bit of a jerk. And although he definitely was cocky and thought the world revolved around him, he was also sweet, kind, and considerate. Not many people saw that side to him, it was something that was reserved for very few people in his life, and thankfully you were one of those people.

Since becoming Peter’s official girlfriend, your life had definitely taken a bit of a 180. Before, you had preferred to spend your lunch period and any other free time alone with a book, whereas now you found yourself in the middle of the cafeteria with Peter and his entire gang of friends. While at first it was definitely awkward and a huge adjustment for not only you, but his friends as well, you were happy to say that you now genuinely enjoyed these times together with Peter and his friends and you thought that they did also. They were always joking and messing around with one another and you definitely got a kick out of some of the pranks and jokes they would pull on one another.

Life had settled into this wonderful new routine with you and Peter and you could not be happier. However, along with dating Peter there were some things that came along with it that were not so pleasant, such as high school parties. In other words, excuses for the kids at your school to get sloppy drunk and dance all up on each other. It definitely wasn’t your scene and you tried to get out of going whenever you could, which wasn’t often. Peter was very good at giving you that adorable puppy dog pout face of his and guilt-tripping you into joining him, which you knew was just about to happen as Peter met you at your locker on Friday afternoon.

“Hey babe!” Peter exclaimed as he approached you and laid a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Hey Peter,” you replied, blushing with a small smile on your face. Even after four months, it still took you by surprise sometimes when he approached you like this. It definitely still sent the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. You didn’t think you would ever get used to this feeling.

“Soooooo,” Peter started, already placing that gosh darn pout that you couldn’t resist onto his face, “Gabe’s parents are out of town this weekend and he’s throwing a party tonight. You up for it?” He asked, eyes wide and pleading, already anticipating your displeasure with this news.

You sighed. “Do I really have much of a choice?”

He grinned. “Nope. You know I can’t go without my best girl. What would I do without you?”

You gave him an unimpressed look. “Don’t try to butter me up, Kavinsky. You know as well as I do that you would be completely fine without me there. I’m the one who wouldn’t be able to function alone.”

He laughed and wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. You sighed. Why did he have to be so cute? “That’s not true, babe! I truly wouldn’t know what to do with myself without you there. So, what do you say?” He mumbled, placing a soft kiss to your neck.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed. “Oh, alright. I’ll go. I don’t know how anyone could ever say no to you though when you’re just so darn adorable,” you said, shaking your head, pretending to be exasperated.

He pulled away to look you in your eyes, a huge grin plastered on his face. “You’re right, I’m just too irresistible!”

You rolled your eyes again, something that happened quite a lot when you were around Peter. “Okay, Mr. Cocky. Ego check. Maybe I should stay home tonight, just to prove a point that you don’t always get your way,” you teased.

His eyes widened in response to your statement and immediately grabbed back onto you, once again shoving his face into your neck. “No! I take it back! Just come with me tonight! I want to spend time with you!”

A dopey grin spread across your face at his sweet admission. “Ok, ok, I take it back. I’ll go with you!”

“Good,” he responded, pulling away, only to grab your hand and walk with you to the parking lot, tracing patterns along the back of your hand with his thumb.

“See you tonight,” he mumbled, pressing a short kiss to your lips before opening your car door for you.

“See you,” you responded, smiling quickly before climbing into the car and preparing to drive home to relax for a few hours before you had to get ready for the party.

At eight that night, a knock sounded from your front door and you gathered your bag and your phone, knowing that it was Peter arriving to drive you to the party. You shouted out a quick goodbye to your parents before racing to open the door and greet your boyfriend.

“Hey,” you breathed out, once you finally managed to open the door and reveal the sight of Peter standing in front of you wearing a dark blue button down shirt and dark jeans, looking just as gorgeous as ever.

“Hi,” he replied, leaning forward to kiss you quickly. “All ready?”

“Yup,” you responded. “Let’s get this over with.”

He laughed. “Come on, it won’t be that bad. You have fun at these parties, don’t you?”

You sighed as you walked with him to his car. “Yeah, I guess. Sometimes.”

He smiled that sweet Peter Kavinsky smile that had the entire school population, including the teachers, wrapped around his finger. “See,” he said. “It won’t be that bad!”

You let out a breath. We’ll see, you thought to yourself.

You and Peter arrived to the party a little bit later and found it to already be in full swing. You could hear music blaring from the outside and the occasional shouts and shrieks arising into the air. You let out a breath. You can do this, Y/F/N, it’s just a party. Just a few more hours and then it’ll all be over.

Peter, as if sensing your distress, placed his arm around your waist as you made your way up the walkway and through the front door.

Immediately upon entering, shouts went up and people came over to greet Peter and therefore you, by extension. You smiled politely, only recognizing a few of the faces as Peter introduced you, stating their names quickly, but you instantly forgot them, already overwhelmed.

“Peter!” Gabe exclaimed, sauntering over and going in for that weird handshake/slap on the back bro greeting that all guys seemed to give each other.

“Hey man!” Peter returned. “Great party!”

Gabe shrugged. “Thanks, Kavinsky. I try,” Gabe grinned before turning his attention to me and pulling me in for a quick hug. “Hey, Y/F/N! Glad you could make it!”

“Of course, Gabe. Thanks for the invite,” you answered sincerely. Gabe was truly someone you liked. He always had this positive energy about him and he was one of the first people from Peter’s group of friends to welcome you in once you and Peter began dating.

“Can I get you guys anything to drink?” Gabe asked, playing the ever so faithful host.

“Sure,” Peter replied. “How about two cokes?” He asked, looking over at you for confirmation.

“Yeah, that would be great,” you confirmed. “Thanks, Gabe!”

“No worries, have fun you guys, I’ll be right back!” He exclaimed, disappearing into the mass of bodies, heading towards where the drinks were located.

Peter pulled you in closer to his side and breathed into your ear, “let’s go mingle.”

You nodded, readying yourself for the long evening. Here we go, you thought to yourself.

A few hours later and you were sitting on one of the couches, talking with one of the girlfriends of one of the players on Peter’s lacrosse team. She was a sweet girl and found herself to be slightly uncomfortable at these events, just like you, which was something you immediately bonded over. Peter had disappeared not too long ago with some of his friends and you hadn’t seen him since.

You sighed, looking around, but still no sign of him. It was nearing midnight and you were hoping to go to bed at a somewhat decent hour tonight considering you had been up to almost three a.m. the night before, studying for a trig test.

“I think I’m going to go find Peter and see if he’s ready to leave,” you explained to your friend before giving her a quick hug and standing up to hunt down your boyfriend.

After wandering around for about five minutes, you finally found him out in the back with some guys that you recognized as being on his lacrosse team, but not being in Peter’s immediate group of friends. Therefore, you didn’t know any of their names or really have any indication as to who they were or what they were like.

You hesitantly made your way over, always nervous when approaching people you weren’t familiar with when you heard something that stopped you in your tracks.

“So, that girlfriend of yours Kavinsky, she’s not really a big fan of these kinds of parties,” a blonde guy standing to the right of Peter stated. Their backs were all turned to you as they gazed out at the city alight in the distance as they conversed. None of them had noticed your approach as you now stood only a few feet away from them, frozen in your tracks as you weren’t expecting to hear them talking about you.

Peter gave a short laugh. “Nah, not really. She’s not used to big events like this, so it still makes her a little uncomfortable.”

The guy on Peter’s other side snorted. “I don’t know why she even tries. She sticks out like a sore thumb here, it’s pretty obvious she doesn’t belong. I don’t mean to offend you man, but I just don’t get what you see in her.”

Peter tensed but didn’t say anything and you held your breath, waiting for him to step in and come to your defense, but he never did. Before you could say anything to clue the boys in on your presence, the blonde guy who had first spoken piped up again. “Yeah, dude. She doesn’t belong in your world man. I don’t understand why you ever stopped dating Genevieve in the first place. You guys were the power couple of the school and now you’re dating that loser Y/F/N and I just don’t get it.”

Peter seemed to hesitate for a moment before letting out a short laugh. “What can I say man, I guess I liked the challenge. Getting one of the biggest dorks in school to go out with me was definitely something new and I know she’s weird at these kinds of parties, which is also something new for me.”

The guys laughed while tears began to well up in your eyes. Dork. Loser. Weird.Was this what he really thought of you?

You turned around and quickly made your way back into the house before any of them could realize that you were there and had heard their conversation. You could feel your heart slowly breaking. Was that all you were to Peter? Some new challenge simply to prove to himself that he could get one of the biggest losers in school to fall for him too? Was this all just a big game to him and he was going to dump you as soon as he got bored?

You thought back to the last four months as tears quickly began falling down your face. None of it felt fake. But was that only on your end? To you, this was your first real relationship. Your first love. Every second had been so special and so memorable, but to Peter was it all just a game?

Hastily, you wiped at your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop before anyone could notice that you were crying.

“Y/F/N!” You heard Gabe shout from somewhere inside the house, but you ignored him, retreating towards the front door. On your way there, you ran into Lucas, a friend from school.

“Are you okay?” He asked in concern, placing his hand comfortingly on your elbow.

You shook your head, wiping at your eyes again. “No, not really,” you murmured. “Do you think you could actually give me a ride home?” You asked hopefully, not wanting to face Peter after what you had just heard.

“Of course,” he replied quickly, placing his drink down on a table and guiding you out the door. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head. “No, not really.”

He nodded in sympathy and understanding. “Okay, let’s go.”

Not long after you arrived home, a text came in from Peter.

Peter <3:Hey babe, Gabe said he saw you leaving. Everything ok?

You:Yeah, everything’s fine. I just had a headache, so Lucas offered to take me home.

You bit your lip at the lie, sighing as you sent the text. You just wanted to crawl into bed, curl up into a ball, and cry a little bit. You would deal with all this later.

Peter <3:Oh, okay, I wish you would have told me, baby. I hope you feel better. <3

You: thanks. goodnight.

Sighing, you turned your phone off and placed it on your bedside table before turning your light off and crawling under the covers.

What on earth am I going to do?You asked yourself in despair. Your perfect relationship wasn’t so perfect after all. How could Peter do this to you? You thought he loved you. But apparently that was all a lie and the only thing he saw when he looked at you was a weirdo dork girl that he wanted to use to spice up his life for a short time.

Tears began rolling down your face once again and you buried your heard under the blankets, hoping to forget the last few hours ever happened.

On Monday morning, you drove to school with a pit of dread in your stomach. You had been avoiding Peter all weekend, but that was about to come to an end. You had been dodging his texts and calls and you could tell that he was getting increasingly more frustrated with you the longer you continued your radio silence. But you didn’t know what else to do. You couldn’t face him just yet. However, that looked like it was just about to end.

You had just parked in the school parking lot and stepped out of your car, grabbing your backpack when you noticed Peter making his way over to you. Quickly, you turned on your heel and began making your way toward the entrance of the school, hoping to escape this particular confrontation. Or at the very least, put it off a little bit longer. Nevertheless, you had no such luck as Peter kept calling your name and eventually caught up with you, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him.

“Y/F/N! I’ve been calling you, didn’t you hear me?” He demanded, a slightly angry expression plastered across his face.

You simply gave him a look and yanked your arm out of his grasp and once again began making your way toward the building.

“Woah, woah, woah! Wait up!” Peter exclaimed, stopping in front of you, effectively blocking your path. “What’s wrong? Why are you ignoring me?” He commanded.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you sighed. “Peter, I don’t want to be late for class. Can you please move out of my way?”

“No!” He shouted. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” he replied, stubbornly planting his feet down, further emphasizing his commitment not to move until he got some answers.

“Well, I don’t really feel like talking to you right now,” you glowered, attempting to step around him, but he once again blocked your path. You huffed. “Can you please get out of my way?!”

“NO!” He fumed, causing you to jump back in surprise. You had never heard him yell before. “Not until you tell me what is going on? What did I do wrong?? First, you ditch me at Gabe’s party, then you avoid my texts and calls all weekend, and now you’ll barely even look at me! What did I do?” He raged, before he gently took ahold of your hand, his expression softening and his eyes turning pleading. “Please, babe, just talk to me. You avoiding me has been driving me insane. I can’t go this long without talking to you, you know that.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at his admission, but you pulled your hand away. You couldn’t get distracted by his sweet words. Not now that you knew they weren’t true. “I thought I would be doing you a favor,” you replied coldly. “After all, the great Peter Kavinsky couldn’t possibly want to be seen with such an enormous loser as myself, right?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What are you talking about? Did someone say something to you at the party?” He demanded angrily. “If so, tell me and I’ll take care of it.”

You gazed up into his eyes accusingly, finally making eye contact and he flinched slightly. “Yeah, youdid. I heard you talking in the backyard with your friends about what a dork I am and how the only reason you ever even looked my way was because you wanted some new challenge to see if the quiet little loser would fall for you too. You don’t need to pretend anymore, Peter, I got the message loud and clear. You win. I won’t bother you anymore.”

An anguished look settled on Peter’s face as he closed his eyes and groaned. “Babe,” he whispered despairingly. “I am so, so sorry. I’m the worst boyfriend in the entire world,” he murmured, hanging his head down low. “I didn’t mean any of that, I don’t even know why I said it.” He looked up with sorrow in his eyes. “You have to believe me, baby, I didn’t mean a single word of it.”

You sniffled and wiped a tear from your eye. “Am I really supposed to believe that?” You cried.

“Yes,” he said forcefully, placing his hands on your shoulders and you left them there, not having the energy at the moment to push him away. “Yes, you should believe me because it’s the truth. Those guys I was talking to are such jerks and they’ve always given me a hard time about dating you and I was tired of trying to explain to them how amazing and wonderful you are, so I just said things that I knew would get them to shut up. You have to believe me, babe, I didn’t mean any of it. I knew in that moment it was wrong and that I should have stood up for you. You’re my girlfriend and I love you and as a result, I should be your biggest defender. I should always come to your rescue and I failed. Baby, I am so, so unbelievably sorry, but you have to believe me. I didn’t mean those words. You mean the world to me, Y/F/N. From the moment I first laid my eyes on you, I knew that you were something special. You weren’t some conquest or some twisted kind of challenge. You were a beautiful, witty, smart, amazing girl who is completely out of my league. You have to believe me. Please say that you believe me,” he begged, his eyes boring into yours, tears slipping down his cheeks.

And that was when you knew for sure that he was telling the truth. You had never once seen Peter cry. You didn’t think he could cry. He was always so solid, so sure. Seeing him crying and pleading like this absolutely broke your heart and you wrapped your arms around him and he returned the hug fiercely, locking you into his arms.

“I believe you,” you whispered softly.

He squeezed you even tighter. “Oh, thank God!” He breathed out, pulling away just enough to bring you into a searing kiss that left you weak at the knees.

“I’m so, so sorry babe, I promise nothing like this will ever happen again,” he repeated over and over as he pressed kisses all over your face.

You giggled softly. “Peter, stop! That tickles!”

He grinned. “No can do, babe, I gotta make up for acting like the world’s biggest idiot and I can only do that with kisses!” He exclaimed before resuming his previous activity.

You laughed, softly swatting him away before grabbing his hand. “C’mon, lover boy, we gotta get to class. Reality beckons.”

He pouted. “Must we, really?”

You laughed again. “Yes, Mr. Kavinsky. We must.”

He sighed. “Okay, okay, but first, there’s something I gotta do.”

Before you could question him, he once again pulled you in for a fierce kiss, letting all his love and affection flow into you and fill you up, completely washing away any residual doubts you may have had about him and his affection for you. A few seconds later, you both pulled away, slightly dizzy. “I love you, Y/F/N Y/L/N, forever and always,” he whispered softly, cupping your face with his large hands.

“I love you too,” you replied, still slightly in shock.

He laughed at your dazed expression before placing his arm around your shoulders and guiding you towards the school. “Let’s get this day over with so I can take you out after school. Gotta make it up to my best girl and show her how much she means to me.”

You beamed up at him before placing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Can’t wait.”

#to all the boys i've loved before imagine #peter kavinsky imagine #peter kavinsky x reader #peter kavinsky fanfic #reader insert #tatbilb #tatbilb imagine #oneshot #angst #fluff #angst with fluff #noah centineo

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