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writingbywatson · 3 years ago

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Genshin Boys With A Dense Crush (Part 2)

Here is part 2~ so, the reason why I didn't include Bennett and Razor is the fact that I can never write for them, like IDK why but its just very hard for me. So yeah, sorry about that. Part 1 (Albedo, Childe and Diluc)

Chongyun

Dense + Dense = more dense

It was painfully obvious that Chongyun likes you but for some reason, he can’t quite figure that out for himself

But everyone around them knows

Xingqiu is actually on the road to writing a book about the two of you

Xiangling, Xinyan, Hu Tao, and Yan Fei are betting on how long until Chongyun realizes his feelings

Chongyun doesn’t know why he likes to see you every day, wants to have meals with you, and why he gets uncomfortable when he sees you with another person and smiling at them

Maybe it was the work of g-

“Oh I like them” -Chongyun one day when he woke up

He consulted his best friend Xingqiu about this and Xingqiu just placed his books down and said “dear archons finally, it was getting very painful to watch”

So the two started planning a cute little confession scenario

Somewhere Xinyan and Yan Fei are crying because they lost the best but Yan Fei is arguing that betting was illegal and has no ground in the law… Yan Fei, you betted with your conscience please stop

Anyway!

The pair of best friends decided to go with a simple type of confession because less is more in Xingqiu’s books

It was going so well, a cute dinner and all of that

“I like you Y/N, can we be more than that?”

Oh is that Xingqiu, Xiangling, Xinyan, Hu Tao, and Yan Fei spying on both of you from the bushes? Why, yes indeed.

“You want to be best friends Chongyun? But don’t you have Xingqiu as your best friend already?” - you with your ever so innocent voice and expression

Chongyun is frozen in place

Xingqiu, Xiangling, Xinyan, Hu Tao and Yan Fei are betting again this time how many times will Chongyun get a friendzone

Kaeya

Someone revive him

He can’t take your dense nature anymore

This is Kaeya after all everything he does allude to something so WHY WON'T YOU GET IT STILL

“Oh, Kaeya? You like someone!? Can you introduce me to them?” - you asking excitedly upon hearing his and Rosaria’s conversation

Kaeya was pretty sure he was describing you

Rosaria is holding back her laugh, she can't breathe… SOMEONE SAVE HER

“I love them but this dense attitude is too much!” - Kaeya as he slams his fist on top of Diluc’s bar

“Have you tried wooing them?” - Diluc as his wiping a glass down, he's so nonchalant about this situation LMAO

“HAVE I TRIED?” - Kaeya sounding very offended

“How about getting a white bed sheet and painting “will you marry me Y/N” on it?” - Rosaria

“Yeah, they leave me no ch-”

“Sit down, don’t embarrass yourself like a child” - Diluc pushing his brother down to sit

“HOW WILL I GET MY FEELINGS ACROSS THOUGH!”

“Just confess, normally… like… a normal person” - Diluc

Kaeya decided that in two days time he was going to confess to you, two days because he needed to make sure it was perfect

But the moment he saw you laughing with some random guy all the planning was thrown out the window

“Meet me in front of the church when the sun rises” - Kaeya to you when he passes by you at the corridor of the headquarters

When you arrived, he made you stand at the flight of stairs in front of the church while he went down

He kneeled with his right knee touching the ground and he pulled a very neatly folded white sheet from his pocket

He unraveled it and wrote, “WILL YOU MARRY ME Y/N?”

But even before you can react a thunderous shouting can be heard and a chuckle

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? I SAID CONFESS NORMALLY!” -Diluc

Thoma

I’m going to try but still little info on this new pyro husband

Thoma is a very understanding boy

He likes you so much that he's willing to wait

But damn has he been waiting long

He decided he was going to confess to you today as well!

“Y/N! I like you!” - Thoma

“I like you too! You are like my best friend!” - you

Every time this happens Thoma stress eats.

Ayaka is giggling because he has never seen her friend like this

He's trying his best for you to like him, he cooks for you, takes care of you, guards you, protects you…

WHAT IS HE DOING WRONG!?

“You know the festival is ongoing” -Ayato as he watches his sister’s friend mop around like a puppy who has been kicked. “Why don’t you try confessing properly and straight-forwardly there?”

That gave him an idea

He dragged to the talisman-wishing thing and told you that you two should make one

When the both of you were done, you should each other what you made and to your surprise, Thoma made a drawing of the both of you holding hands

“It’s not us being best friends forever” - he clarified

“It’s me hoping to spend many more years beside you as your lover.”

Venti

Barbatos aka Venti the Bard has been singing a lot of love songs lately

Especially when you were in the audience watching

He always likes your smile especially when you were watching him

So when the two of you were strolling around near the church of Monstad

He decided that he was going to confess today

Years of being alone and he finally get what Vanessa told him about meeting the right person

“Y/N, I love you-”

“Aww, Venti, I love you too!”

“Really?!” - Venti very excitedly

“Yeah! I love you as a friend! We’re like besties!”

Dvalin felt that

Andrius felt that

Hell even Vanessa felt that from Celestia

“Oh I got to go, bestie, I have something to do! See you tomorrow!”

Lately, the winds of Monstad have been depressing?

“I don’t understand! I thought they liked me back!” Venti his chugging his alcohol while Diluc looked at him in irritation

Diluc wants to kick him out but Venti is Monstad’s archon so he decided against it

“Venti! There you are!” - you

Venti hears your voice and because his drunk his happy instead of upset

He throws himself at you in an attempt of a sloppy hug

“Y/N! I love you~”

“I love you too, we are fr-”

“NO! I LOVE YOU LIKE A SIGNIFICANT OTHER I LOVE YOU! THAT TYPE OF LOVE THAT IF YOU ASK ME TO FIGHT MORAX I WOULD!”

Xiao

When Xiao first had these feelings he was confused

He lived a long life and this was the first time in his life where when he sees someone his chest becomes constricted and warm

“Xiao! Do you like traveler!?” - you excitedly

Xiao felt a tightening in his chest not that good type but am i being stab right now type of tightening

His answer would usually be along the lines of no and he can’t have relationships with mortals

He usually has a lot more patience with you compared to others but hearing you say that he looks good with someone else just made something in him snap

He didn’t mean to shout at you nor did he mean it when he said you should leave him alone

That’s why he's waiting for you at Wangshun Inn, his loneliness grew into worry when after 2 days you weren’t back yet

Upon eavesdropping around he also found out that no one has seen you and your last known location was Mt. Hulao and he immediately began to worry because that place was prohibited to humans

“Are you looking for someone?” - Mountain Sharper appeared behind Xiao as he reached the top of Mt. Hulao. “Are you looking for a mortal perhaps?”

“How did-”

“-That mortal is pretty noisy, they don’t stop talking and they know you.”

Oh, the warm feeling in his chest is back because they were talking about him which means that they weren’t angry at him!

“Where are they!?” Xiao would realize and I swear to you his ready to break every amber rock around Mt.Hulao

“Calm down, they are currently collecting Qingxin flowers”

Right on cue, “XIAO!? IS THAT YOU!?” he heard your voice from behind him, when he saw you, he immediately rushes to you and hugs you

“What are you doing here!?” Xiao would ask, his voice was raised only because of relief

“Oh, I got lost! And Moon Sharper here saw me, we ended up chatting and I guess I forgot the time, he shared so many stories about y- WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE THAT ARE YOU HURT!?”

“I’m alright… I just… I m-miss…”

Moon Sharper is just looking at this scene and he knows he's about to spill the hottest tea next time the adeptus (idk plural form okay) have a dinner party

Xingqiu

At first glance, it might look like that he isn’t affected at all

But internal his boiling

WHY WERE YOU SO DENSE

IF IT WEREN’T FOR HIS CLAN'S TEACHING AND WHAT NOT HIS PROBABLY ABOUT TO ASK YOU FOR A FIGHT

“You’ll make a great husband someday Xingqiu, I know it! Your future wife would be so happy!”

“I want you to be my wife though”

“What was that?”

“NOTHING!”

He knows he needs to move so he can win your heart but how can he when you were dodging every advance he makes

What is more frustrating is that YOU ARE NOT EVEN DOING IT ON PURPOSE

As an author he wants to experience romance first hand, so he tries to be romantic about it but this was frustrating

He decided to pull his last technique from his sleeves

He lent you a very romantic book and between one of the pages he inserted a paper that read “I wish for you to be my muse.”

If that doesn’t work Xingqiu is going to ask you to fight him

Zhongli

Zhongli, Rex Lapis aka Morax has lived thousands of years

Yet this is the first time he encountered someone so dense at first he taught you were just kidding and pretending but when he described what he likes in someone which was pertaining to you

You simply said “WOW THEY SOUND WONDERFUL AND YOU MUST REALLY LIKE THEM BECAUSE YOU SOUND SO IN LOVE” at his face with genuine awe, there was no sign of you being flustered and whatnot

Hu Tao was there to witness this and the younger female had a good laugh when she witnessed this

Zhongli is now praying to Guizhong for help and patience

He first wondered if the reason for such behavior was because you dislike him but it wasn’t the case because you would always smile when you see him

Which makes his knees very weak

In heaven, all the dead gods are laughing at him

He has lived for so many years and yet he doesn’t know what to do because he wants to spend years with you

But a part of him says this isn’t right because his an immortal and you were a mortal, someday him being a former god would drive an enigma in the future

That’s why he was also hesitating on his part

“Zhongli, look-look! A merchant from Monstad gave me a Cecilia!” - you snapping him from his thought, he's a tall man so you had to tip-toe to put the flower in his hair

“There you look even prettier now!” - you smiling up to him

As you were withdrawing your hand, Zhongli grabs it and places it in front of his lips

“I love you Y/N”

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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MDZS prompt: Maybe Lan Wanji realising his feelings before the war and hesitantly trying to court Wei Wuxian while he is a student? Or non-war AU where Lan Wanji chooses to marry into Jiang Sect rather than see Wei Wuxian struggle under Lan way of life only to find he really likes being a Jiang (maybe gets on well with in-laws)

It was Madame Yu that came to find out what the fight was about, of course.

Her husband was still injured from the fight against Wen Ruohan some years back, the one that had won the Nie sect so much acclaim and which to this day made Sect Leader Jin’s teeth grit and his blood boil, and he rarely travelled far any more. No one was entirely sure why this change had led to Madame Yu’s abrupt improvement in temper; perhaps it was that he was unlikely to have more children, or perhaps her worries had finally been appeased by his formal announcement that he would start the slow process of handing over the tasks of Sect Leader to Jiang Cheng when he came fully of age.

The changes hadn’t made much of a difference to Wei Wuxian’s life before, since Madame Yu hadn’t had a radical personality transplant, still being harsh and vicious, but he had to admit that it was extremely pleasant to see her make mincemeat of Sect Leader Jin using nothing but her sharp tongue.

She even threatened to revoke the engagement, which everyone knew she wouldn’t do – well, everyone but Sect Leader Jin, that was. Either way, he put on such a disgraceful appearance that Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng had ended up sympathizing with Jin Zixuan for the first time in their lives, and somehow when the punishment that had been imposed on all three of them was over they were maybe even something resembling friends that only mildly hated each other.

Madame Yu had decided to stay at the Cloud Recesses for the duration of the punishment, for reasons known only to her, and it was her that raised the topic over dinner one evening.

“You need to stop playing with that boy’s heart,” she said, drinking her soup with grace and only a slight wrinkling of the nose over the fact that it was, yet again, vegetarian.

Jiang Cheng looked at Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian looked at Jiang Cheng and neither of them saw Jiang Yanli anywhere around – her being back at the Lotus Pier, that was reasonable – so they both looked in askance at Madame Yu.

“Wei Wuxian,” she clarified. “You’ve been playing courting games with the Second Young Master Lan for weeks under my very nose; do you think I haven’t noticed?”

Wei Wuxian gaped. “Courting games? With – Lan Zhan? That’s impossible. I don’t cut my sleeve.”

“You should let him know that, then,” she said. “He’s already completed seven of the twelve courtship rites the Lans require before a proposal of marriage.”

“Are you sure?” Jiang Cheng asked, a little doubtful. “I thought he hated Wei Wuxian.”

“Hatred and affection can often look very similar to the untrained eye,” Madame Yu said. “Well, Wei Wuxian? What are you going to do about it?”

“I – I…”

“He’ll tell him tomorrow, of course,” Jiang Cheng said. “What else would he do?”

“I need to think about it,” Wei Wuxian said, and dashed out of the house they’d all been occupying.

Madame Yu smiled into her cup of tea. “Jinzhu, go tell Lan Qiren that I’d like to speak with him tomorrow afternoon,” she said to her maidservant. “And tell him that this may be something that requires Qingheng-jun’s approval.”

“What do you need Sect Leader Lan’s approval for?” Jiang Cheng asked, blinking as the maidservant headed out.

“Settling the terms of the marriage, of course.”

“Marriage? But Wei Wuxian isn’t going to –”

Madame Yu left the Cloud Recesses for the Lotus Pier with her son and eldest disciple in tow three days later, marriage contract in hand and a smug expression on her face.

The Lotus Pier was very different from the Cloud Recesses.

Lan Wangji still habitually rose every morning at the prescribed hour and went to bed at the same, but unlike the quiet serenity of Gusu, the people of Yunmeng were always active, day or night.

There was a market at every hour: the morning fish-market, full of bickering fishwives and rowdy fishermen that all knew Lan Wangji by sight and called out to him; the midday mixed market, full of every type of ware imaginable from artisan crafts to flowers to clothing to fruit to food; and even after the afternoon rest period ended it was only the start of setting up for the night market, as much Wei Wuxian’s domain as the morning market was Lan Wangji’s.

They went together, sometimes.

Wei Wuxian would yawn and complain at first, wrinkling his nose at the smell of raw fish, but he’d marvel over the sunrise and make fast friends with everyone he met, making silly expressions as he tried new types of food minutes after the ingredients had been pulled out of the waves.

For his part, Lan Wangji would indulgently hold all the things Wei Wuxian bought in the night market. It was usually food: sticks of tanghulu, skewers of grilled seafood, cheese broiled lobsters and spicy rice-cakes. Sometimes it was clothing, usually gifts; other times it was just knick-knacks that nobody needed but which Wei Wuxian simply had to have and usually gave away a few moments later.

At other times, they went to the lotus ponds, where Wei Wuxian taught him how to eat fresh-picked lotus seeds and tried to teach him how to run away when the owners came yelling (Lan Wangji refused to run and paid more in silver for the seeds they’d taken than the entire pond was worth); they went to the restaurants, where Lan Wangji ate food that burned his mouth and made his eyes fill with tears that Wei Wuxian would wipe away with his fingers, feeding him white rice and promising him he’d adjust soon enough; they walked along the river in the light of the sunset, hand in hand, saying nothing at all.

At least one day a week, Wei Wuxian would insist on taking Lan Wangji somewhere new, to see or do something he hadn’t done yet; it was as if he were anxious to show him everything there was to see about Yunmeng before their six months were up, before they went back to Gusu for the six months of the year that they would spend there, no matter how many times Madame Yu impatiently reminded him that there was no need to rush.

No need to rush at all: after all, they were married, now. They had the rest of their lives to show each other everything they wanted.

And yet – Lan Wangji understood a little of that urgency. He spent entire afternoons writing lists of things in Gusu he would show Wei Wuxian when they went back there: the secret springs, the gardens, the grove he’d pretended to tend when he was just a child. He’d take him to the fruit orchard and feed him plums and cherries plucked straight from the trees, see the red smeared over his smiling mouth and use his own to kiss it clean.

He’d take him to the place where they kept his mother’s memorial tablet, and they would kneel in front of it together again, the way they had at his wedding, and this time Lan Wangji would tell him the story of what happened with her, the hidden tragedy of it, and he’d promise him that he’d never permit the same.

But that would all come later: for now, they were at the Lotus Pier.

Things were happy at the Lotus Pier: Jiang Fengmian, who no longer rose from his chair, looked at his wife with some puzzled awe in his eyes, and she reveled in it as their children watched them with great relief. Jiang Yanli was kind and a little mischievous, Jiang Cheng was kind and not mischievous at all, and Wei Wuxian – was Wei Wuxian.

They were together all the time.

Lan Wangji was happy.

#mdzs #lan wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian #jiang cheng #yu ziyuan #my fic #my fics #unmitigated fluff #Anonymous

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tooweirdforyou · 4 years ago

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How The OP Boys Wish You A Happy Birthday » SFW

A/N : Yep! It’s my birthday, that’s why this is here. And I apologize in advance for not writing anything for Sanji’s birthday 😭 and yes I had to clarify that this is a sfw version ... small af HCs.

This wasn’t as great as I hoped, obviously but I’m happy about it and I like it. :>

Note : Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Ace, Sabo, Law + Kid, Mihawk, Katakuri,

Summary : How these boys would wish you a happy birthday in their own ways.

Luffy

The loudest one. Will scream it first thing when he even realizes that it’s your birthday.

Definitely does forget it though. I know people canon that Luffy is one of those whos dense and all but would actually remember all of his crew’s birthdays but I mean come on, I’m sure he’ll definitely forget..

But when he knows, man is it one hell of a party and day for you.

Demands Sanji prepare a giant feast for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Any meat there is, Luffy is forcing it all towards you to have before he takes the rest. It’s your special day after all! So you get to eat the meat first. ( just don’t take too long, he’s drooling )

Demands the crew to celebrate with a huge ass party and goes to the nearest island to buy you anything and EVERYTHING, he has no boundaries, especially with no money.

It’s a seriously good time though.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY [NAMEEEE]!”

Zoro

Zoro is definitely more chill and laid back. He won’t realize it at first until he sees you and he just casually says it.

He doesn’t really care too much about celebrating it or just doing anything for any birthday in general but he’s not opposed to anything you want, especially if there’s booze.

Definitely teases you about your age though. Already a year older? How old, he can see gray hairs already~

He’s not about the gift giving or shit either, he’s more of spending time with the person type, to show he cares. So he’d offer you to join him in the crows nest or he’ll just lay or follow you as you wish.

“Oh. Happy Birthday, old man/woman.” Of course, it’s just for laughs and jokes.

Sanji

This boy is the first to say it, first thing in the morning once you wake up.

He’s so cheery and smiley for you and is set to give you the perfect birthday, with a delicious birthday breakfast, or breakfast in bed if you’re still tired.

The rest of the day is him just never leaving your side, doing whatever you need, even the smallest things ever. He wants to make sure you don’t do anything other than the fun things for your special day.

Prepares a giant feast of all your favorite and native foods that he’s been practicing to perfect and finally, is a huge gift giver, buying you a rather expensive jewelry he thought would look amazing on you.

“My lovely, sweet, [Name]. I hope you have the most wonderful birthday today, and accept this beautiful gift that I know will look stunning on you, only adding to your gorgeous appearance.”

Ace

Oh boy, this freckled one is loud. He sure loves birthdays, especially celebrating them and the giant ass parties you have.

Reminds everyone in the crew and pleads Whitebeard every year to make a big celebratory feast and party for you.

Does attempt to make it a surprise party but with it happening every year and trying to make it a grand one on the ship usually doesn’t succeed in surprising you.

His drunk speeches are embarrassing and hilarious, even more so when he pulls you to the center to give a speech and encourages you to say something.

He’s a lot but he means well, and when you two are alone, he offers a kind and sweet smile before holding out his present for you, something he knows you’ve been eyeing and wanting for a while.

And with the brightest, warmest grin in the sunset, he speaks.

“Happy Birthday, [Name]~. May this day and year make your wishes come true.”

Sabo

Sabo remembers, he remembers the littlest things so of course he’ll remember it!

Now, the revolutionary army is a family but not many of them are a huge party celebrator but are always up to celebrate anyone’s birthdays.

Fortunately, Sabo manages to convince Dragon to have a small party to celebrate yours and it’s nothing too big, just some food, a cake and the closest members of the army there with you.

Koala and Hack are congratulating you and wishing you well while Dragon, not a huge partier, offers his wishes as well before sitting off to the side to work as usual.

Ivankov is the most enthusiastic, making sure the whole party is swell and is the one who sets up all the decorations and has the biggest present.

Sabo is the one who sticks by your side most, taking you everywhere you want and has the most memorable / amount of presents for you.

First is some nostalgic items that reminds him of when you two first met, then it’s items that represent interests that you both share, then it’s something he knows you’ve been wanting for forever, and lastly, it’s something that reminds him most of you, the most special one.

Yeah, not a big party but Sabo will do anything for you, so if you don’t want one, there won’t be any. Sabo just wants you to be happy and will do what it takes to make you smile. He’s a huge gift giver, but only things he knows you will love. Hopefully.

“Happy Birthday [Name]! I got you some gifts and I’m not taking any refusals, it’s your birthday. Now, let’s get going to the city so I can take you shopping.”

Law

Of course Law remembers, it’s Law. However, the most he’ll do is wish you a happy birthday, that’s it really.

He’s not really one to make a big deal out of things, he’s not one for parties clearly, as seen in Dressrosa aftermath, so he won’t really have one unless you really want one. Or, if the others happen to catch word of your special day and wish to celebrate it with a party.

If there has to be a party, Law expects it to be a small one at the very least, nothing too crazy. Just some simple decorations, gifts and presents, but it’s his crew. Of course they’ll go all out.

However when he actually comes to it, after being forced to rest, he actually enjoys it. Even more so when he sees how happy you are, your bright smile filling the mood in the room and the way your eyes light up when he comes.

Law’s a bit embarrassed when the two of you are finally alone. He didn’t really care for birthdays in general but he still got you a little something, and tries to act casual about it when he hands you the thin box.

Inside, is a gold charm bracelet with mini heart charms around it and in the middle is a skull and crossbones.

“Happy Birthday, [Name]-ya.. I got you this.. hope you like it.”

( yk he’s going to be awkward and kinda shy )

Kid

Does not remember. Killer has to remind him, despite the uncertainty that the red head would care.

The red head wouldn’t really care at first, especially when he sees you aren’t really mentioning it or excited about it before deciding to celebrate it on the nearest island.

Totally not an excuse to just spend the whole day crashing a pub and drinking the place dry in celebration.

You’re the star of the show, celebrity of the day, so Kid makes you pay for everything if he doesn’t threaten the owner to give everything for free. Plus, he will make you drink as many beers as you can until you pass out and challenges you to many drinks and such.

Kid doesn’t give a shit about gift giving or making a big ass party with food and stuff, but the most he’ll do is let you off the hook for the day and not do any work. After that, you’re back to your duties.

“Oi. I don’t give a shit about this birthday crap, but whatever you want, it’s yours. Nothing too fuckin’ ridiculous obviously.. only for today, ya hear?”

Mihawk

This man will definitely remember and if you are dating him, prepared to be swept off your feet and romantically pampered.

Breakfast is already set on the table when you awake, along with a simple rose on the table in a vase.

There is no parties, and no way is he celebrating this with Shanks unless you truly wish to, or if Shanks appears unannounced. Mihawk prefers to celebrate with just the two of you.

The whole day is just spent together, cuddling, wandering the island and just doing whatever you want because it’s your special day. It ends with some wine and cuddling by the fire before he hands you his present.

The box is small and you open it to reveal a diamond necklace with a skull and crossbones, along with a cross. ( idk man )

With the soft kiss to your temple, he holds you closer in his chair by the fireplace.

“I wish you a Happy Birthday, mi amour. I hope today has been a great day for you.”

Katakuri

Knows from the beginning, but the amount of guilt he feels when he possibly won’t be around for it, reallyyy hurts him :<

No doubt that he will definitely be there though. He’s always there for everyone’s birthdays :>

Katakuri won’t eat any of the giant ass cakes that Pudding makes and he’s not a big gift giver either, he’s more quality time kind of person.

But, when it’s time for his special meriendas, he asks the chefs to make a particular bigger one and stick candles around before giving it to you.

It’s the least, smallest offer he can give you, a birthday donut. :) he’ll be looking serious and all but under his scarf is a hidden small and proud smile and maybe a small flush of his cheeks.

“Happy Birthday, [Name]. Make sure to enjoy today, alright?”

A/N : so yeah! My view on how these boys would wish you a happy birthday. Some of it is a bit rushed because I made this so late. It was a last minute thing.

Anyways, hope you are all doing well and having a great day/night! :> ily.

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #op #one piece writing #one piece special #birthday special #happy birthday #my birthday #March 1st!#March 1 #🍀

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babyjamiebarnes · 4 years ago

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Build-A-Bear

Part Three

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Morgan, various characters in other chapters

Warnings: language, sexual innuendos and implications

Chapter Summary: Reader has dinner with her family and gets grilled even harder than her food. But she’s turned to a light simmer when Bucky takes her out for their first date.

Author’s Note: This chapter is fucking monstrous lol. I did not expect it to be this long so it might be a couple extra days before the next chapter so I can catch up! I’m also not sure if my Italian is accurate so I apologize in advance. I used to work for a man named Gennaro from Naples and he called me “bella” so hopefully I’m sort of right? If you like the story so far, feel free to buy me a coffee!

Part One • Part Two

Tags: @kennedywxlsh

Dinner that night was tense, to say the least. It was nice to have your dad, step-mom, sister, and uncles Happy and Rhodey over again, but your dad wasn’t quick to forget what he saw earlier.

“What was that with Barnes today?” Tony asked as you all sat around the dining room table in your midtown flat, poking away at the remnants of your meals.

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently.

Your dad just gave you an incredulous look. “You know what I mean.”

You sighed and avoided meeting his eyes. “I was just working on his arm, dad. I didn’t wanna make him lie down on a hard lab table while I poked around to do what you wanted and quiet his arm,” you explained.

“Wait, Barnes as in Bucky Barnes?” Uncle Rhodey clarified.

“Yeah,” your dad confirmed, not taking his eyes off of you. “I found her kneeling between his legs while he sat shirtless on the couch.”

“You’re sleeping with Bucky?!” Rhodey asked.

“I’m not sleeping with anyone!” you defended, dropping your fork onto your plate. “I’ve known him for a month.”

“That’s never stopped your father,” Pepper mumbled under her breath, making you huff out a laugh despite your current grilling.

“Listen, when I said ‘no fraternizing with coworkers,’ I meant it,” your dad said.

“Please stop saying ‘fraternizing.’ It’s weird.”

Tony sighed and crossed his arms. “No ‘slumber parties’ with coworkers,” he rephrased.

This made Morgan perk up in her seat, having spent the past couple minutes confusedly watching you and your dad bicker.

“Can we have a slumber party, [Y/N]?” she asked.

“Yes, honey, we can have a slumber party,” you responded.

“Tonight?” she continued.

At this, you pointedly looked at your dad and raised your eyebrows as a way of saying ‘are we done now?’ You could tell he didn’t want to end the conversation, but you were grateful for the sudden change of topic. Tony uncrossed his arms and leaned against the table as he replied to your sister.

“If your big sister says it’s okay, you can have a slumber party tonight.”

Morgan lit up like the Fourth of July, quickly listing off all the movies she wanted to watch even though you knew she’d fall asleep halfway through the first movie.

As your family packed up to leave, leaving Morgan since she had a drawer of clothes for the impromptu sleepovers you’ve had before, you calmed your racing heart before saying the words that would either make your father more suspicious or completely quash his suspicions.

“You’ll have to pick her up by four tomorrow. I have a date.”

All of the adults turned to face you. Pepper had a huge smile on her face, clearly excited for you, but your dad and Rhodey looked ready to fight. Happy looked curious, maybe even worried, but he played a big role in raising you so while Tony was the overprotective parent, Happy was the comforting parent (not that he’d ever let anyone know that).

“A date?” The tone of your dad’s voice made you roll your eyes at him.

“I’m a grown woman. I’m allowed to go on dates.”

Your dad let out a quiet harumph at that, but understood where you were coming from. “I know, sweetheart. Forgive me for being a bit overprotective of my little girl.”

“I get it. I appreciate your concern,” you said with a smile, “but this is good for me. You want grandkids eventually, right?”

“Oh god,” your dad groaned, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m not old enough to be a grandpa but I’m old enough to have a heart attack at the mention of it.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“So what’s this person’s name?” Pepper piped up. You visibly tensed and internally panicked. You couldn’t just admit it was Bucky after denying anything there. But his name was technically pretty common...

“His name is James.”

Rhodey snapped his fingers and pointed at you as he said, “I like him already.”

‘Yeah, sure you do,’ you thought. The sight of your dad narrowing his eyes at you and crossing his arms as he stood in the entryway of your apartment made you nervous. Maybe James wasn’t good enough to get him off your trail (probably because he was right).

“How did you meet this guy?” Tony asked.

If anyone else had asked, you would’ve said ‘work,’ but that’s the last place you could say to your dad — with whom you worked.

“Uhh, at the grocery store. We accidentally followed each other and got a lot of the same food so he jokingly accused me of stalking him and we just hit it off,” you rattled off. It’s a good thing he didn’t know how your friend Monique met her girlfriend or he’d know you were lying.

“That’s so cute,” Pepper cooed. She was definitely the more relaxed of your parents, possibly because she wasn’t your biological mom. She had been raising you since you were ten though, so she played a big part in your upbringing.

“Text me his last name so I can run a background check,” your dad said. You’d love to think he was joking, but you knew he was serious.

And as much as you knew you’d regret it, you had to make a joke…

“His last name is Barnes,” you said, keeping your face as serious as possible. “James Barnes. I actually know his middle name too: Buchanan.”

“[Y/N] [Y/M/N] [Y/L/N], you better be joking right now,” Tony said. He was already getting red in the face, clearly unenthused at the prospect of you dating the man who, admittedly, killed his parents — your grandparents. Yeah, understandable.

“I’m obviously kidding,” you said, forcing a laugh. “It’s just funny that they have the same first name and you’re so anti-Bucky.”

“You’re gonna send me to an early grave,” he muttered. “I’m going home before I actually have a heart attack.”

You said your goodbyes and ‘I love you’s before you and Morgan put on your pajamas and set up a pillow fort in the middle of your living room to watch her favorite sleepover movie: “Shrek.”

As the movie went on, you leaned back in the fort to take a photo of Morgan with the movie in the background. Well, the back of Morgan’s head as she was engrossed in the movie she’d seen a million times.

[Image attached] She’s got her teddy bear but where’s my Bucky Bear? 🥺

Across the city, Bucky’s phone buzzed from its spot on the kitchen counter as he made himself a late dinner. He didn’t recognize the number, but smiled when he saw the picture of who he assumed was your sister or niece.

I never got an invite. Looks like more fun than my night.

You smiled to yourself when you saw his reply, rolling your eyes at the lack of exclamation points and emojis. Typical man.

What does your night look like?

Eating a late dinner and talking to you.

Talking to me isn’t fun?! I’m hurt 😢

Not as fun as actually being with you.

Even though he wasn’t there and didn’t say it verbally, you could feel your cheeks get hot at his words.

There’s no way sweet talk like that didn’t get you in more than four beds.

You’re still on that? I swear doll, I have the same number as you.

Whatever you say! 🙄

There was a lull in conversation after that, giving you time to move your sister to lie on her back with pillows and blankets in the fort so she could sleep more comfortably.

Are we still going out tomorrow?

You let the next Shrek movie start automatically, but you didn’t pay any attention as you texted Bucky.

I’m still down if you are 👀

You sent him your address and let him know you’d wait on the front steps for him so he didn’t have to come all the way up. With the exchange of ‘good night’ messages, you drifted asleep to the sounds of Shrek 2.

•

The next morning, you somehow managed to wake up before your sister, then brought her back to the land of the living with the smell of French toast.

You spent your day watching another movie with Morgan before fixing lunch and taking her to a park down the road. Morgan’s childhood was definitely different from yours. Happy was the one who took you to parks and shopping, but Tony parented at home. Morgan would have the same early experiences, but the world knew Tony and Pepper had a daughter. They kept her identity hidden for now, waiting until she could decide if she wanted to reveal herself later in life. The world never knew about you.

And you had to be somewhat grateful for that. You still got all the perks of being a Stark — the money, the Tower, meeting the Avengers (and having James Rhodes as your godfather) — without the stress of fame. But part of you still wished you could talk about your father without keeping his occupation vague and referring to him as “Anthony” when telling stories instead of Tony.

Morgan also got to know her mom. You only spent the first seven years of your life with your mom before she was killed in a drive-by shooting. The police investigated it like crazy because everyone thought since it was Tony Stark’s wife, it had to be a targeted hit. But since she never took the same jogging route twice, all they came up with was an unplanned drive-by. You cherished the memories you had with her, but still openly welcomed Pepper when she came into the picture. She may not have played the same type of role in your life, but she helped shape your middle and high school years.

By the time you and Morgan got back to your place, she was exhausted, climbing back into the still-intact blanket fort to take a nap. When your dad and Pepper stopped by to pick her up, she was still knocked out.

“We’ll get out of your hair so you can get ready for your date,” your dad said with Morgan in his arms. “Send me this James guy’s last name. I still want to run a background check.”

“Dad,” you grumbled. “I already did my research. He’s clear.” Kind of. He technically has murdered hundreds of people, including your grandparents, but he’s reformed and fighting for the good guys now. Not that your dad would let it slide if you told him that.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned. “Let me know if you need to hide any bodies, okay?”

“You got it,” you said with a laugh as they headed out. You had two hours to get ready for Bucky, giving you plenty of time to look extra cute.

By the time six rolled around, you were all dolled up and ready to go. The autumn weather had you in a jacket and boots, but that just pulled your outfit together.

Your doorman Matt was standing inside the lobby when you ran downstairs, tossing him a small wave as you left.

“Have a good night, Miss [Y/L/N],” he said with a nod.

“See you later, Matt!”

You stood at the bottom of your building’s front steps, checking your phone and looking up and down the block for Bucky. It was six on the dot, so you figured he’d be there soon.

“Hey!” You looked up from your phone to see Bucky jogging toward you, a black leather jacket covering his arms and a black glove hiding his left hand. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get away from Sam. Had to tell him I was gonna check out my old stomping grounds in Brooklyn.”

“You’re, like, 30 seconds late. I’m just glad you’re here,” you said with a smile. “So what are we doing tonight?”

Bucky’s smile faltered as he looked down at you. Your boots gave you a bit of a height bump, but Bucky still stood taller than you.

“I, uh, I kinda thought you had something planned,” he said softly.

“Oh, oops,” you laughed. “Well… what about those Brooklyn stomping grounds of yours? Care to show me around?”

Bucky lit up at the recommendation and started leading the way to the nearest subway stop. Before you started down the stairs, he paused and turned to you with a sour expression.

“I probably should’ve asked if you’d rather get a cab,” he said.

“Bucky, I take the subway to work every day. It’s fine.”

“Why do you take the train? You don’t live too far away.” You two made your way down the steps to the bustling station.

“It’s just easier. Less work for me,” you explained. “I didn’t take the train much as a kid so I like taking the opportunity now that I can.”

“Most people don’t willingly take the subway,” he laughed. “Steve and I always used to talk about how we’d be rich enough to have a car someday. But now that I could get any car I wanted, I don’t think I want one. I like the subway.”

“Even though it’s smelly and dirty?” you joked.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “It’s one of the things that still reminds me of home.”

The gentleness in his voice nearly brought you to tears. This man had been through so much and was still the sweetest soul you’d ever met. Forced into a war he didn’t want to join, experimented on, tortured and brainwashed, hunted by every government in the world, captured, frozen, and forced into another war and more battles he shouldn’t have to join. He just couldn’t catch a break.

“Well I’m excited to see what else reminds you of home,” you replied.

The trains to and through Brooklyn were relatively busy so you and Bucky couldn’t really talk much, but it was a Saturday night so you couldn’t blame people for getting out. It was tough to find seats, but Bucky was willing to stand to make sure you could have a seat. Ever the gentleman.

When you made it to Bucky’s Brooklyn stop of choice, he started telling you more stories from the ‘40s, like when Steve couldn’t get off the train in time and accidentally went down another stop so Bucky ran to the next stop and found Steve heading his way anyway. And how he and Steve followed his sister Rebecca on a date “to watch out for her,” he said, and her date thought they were stalking her and tried to beat them up. And all the fights he pulled Steve out of.

“Punk was a chihuahua who thought he was a Rottweiler.”

For a while, you two walked around the streets of Brooklyn just telling each other stories. You were careful about names you used, often just calling Happy “Uncle Harry” and Rhodey “Uncle James.”

Bucky showed you the movie theater he and Steve used to go to, which was surprisingly still in business. You walked past what used to be a diner Bucky frequented but was converted into a bridal shop.

“This used to be a magic store Steve loved,” he said, looking up at the bank on the corner of the street. “Things have changed a lot.”

You heard the nostalgia in his voice, clearly missing the New York he grew up to love. He had a soft smile on his lips as he reminisced, though.

“What about where you lived?” you asked. “Do you remember where that is?”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “I could never forget that.”

Everything was within a fifteen minute walk of where you got off the subway so even though your feet were getting tired, you followed alongside Bucky as he led the way up and down the streets. Before too long, you strode up to a large brick building that had clearly been remodeled recently, if the fresh windows and front doors were any indication.

“It’s… a lot nicer than when I lived here,” Bucky said with a sigh. “But it’s been nearly 100 years so I can’t blame them for updating things.”

“Brooklyn is kind of booming now, too,” you added. “More people to appeal to, ya know?”

You stared up at him again, seeing that same lost look as before, like he wished to turn back time and show you the Brooklyn he knew. So you decided since he couldn’t do that, you’d show him the Brooklyn you knew.

“Come here. My turn to show you around,” you said, holding your hand out to him. He gave you a small smile before grabbing your hand in his and letting you pull him back to the subway.

Ten minutes later, you hopped off the train with Bucky in tow and headed to the little Italian restaurant you found while exploring the city a couple years before. It wasn’t anything elaborate; it was honestly more of a little hole-in-the-wall, but you liked the quiet atmosphere.

“Bella!” the owner shouted as you walked in.

“Hey Genny,” you smiled at him.

“Who’s this?” he asked as he approached you, raising his eyebrows when he saw Bucky.

“This is James,” you said. You opted against using his more common nickname to avoid any recognition.

“James, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Gennaro, but you can call me Genny. Welcome to my restaurant.” The two men shook hands before Genny ushered you two to a table and handed you menus. “Would you like to start with focaccia?”

“Yes please!”

“Con formaggi?”

“Si! Grazie!”

Gennaro left you and Bucky while he started your appetizer.

“You speak Italian?” Bucky asked.

“Definitely not,” you laughed. “I’ve just been coming here for a while and have picked up on some things Genny says. Like ‘bella’ means ‘beautiful,’ this pizza,” you pointed to your favorite pizza on the menu, “‘cinque formaggi’ means ‘five cheese.’ But I could never hold a conversation.”

“Un peccato,” Bucky sighed before flashing a smile at you.

“You speak Italian?!” you nearly shrieked. “No way! Don’t talk shit with Gennaro behind my back.” You pouted at Bucky, but knew he wouldn’t say anything bad about you. Maybe an embarrassing moment or two — like your dad walking in on you between his knees — but nothing negative.

“I picked it up pretty quickly back in the day,” Bucky explained. “Before I was sent to Germany, I was stationed in a small town in Italy for a while. The locals didn’t mind having us there because we kept the Nazis out, so they taught us some Italian when we were in town.”

“Maybe I should take Gennaro up on his offer to learn Italian,” you mused.

“Or you could learn from me,” Bucky was quick to offer. “I’ll teach you some stuff when you’re working on my arm.”

Your server arrived with the focaccia and water for both of you, before giving you more time to actually look at the menus instead of talking. You decided to split a bottle of red wine and two pizzas, one of your choice and one of Bucky’s. As the night went on, you and Bucky both opened up to each other even more than before. You could easily blame the buzz from a couple glasses of wine, but Bucky’s super soldier serum made you confused. His cheeks were flushed and he had more than half the bottle, so you wondered if maybe...

“Can you still get drunk?”

“Unlike Steve, yes. It takes more than this,” he said, lifting the nearly empty bottle of wine, “but since Steve and I received different serums, they work a little differently. I can definitely get drunk. Marijuana admittedly hits harder.”

You paused as you stared back at him, his elbows perched on the table and his clasped hands propped under his chin.

“Are you drunk now?”

“No,” he laughed quietly. “A little tipsy, sure, but not drunk by a long shot.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, reluctantly accepting that he was just as buzzed as you but not quite drunk.

Before long, your server brought over your tab and you realized how empty the restaurant had gotten. Then you noticed the broom and mop the server had brought out to the floor, then the dark ‘open’ sign, and finally the clock on the wall.

“You closed 20 minutes ago and didn’t kick us out?” you shouted at Gennaro. “Genny, you can always kick me out! I feel bad!”

Gennaro walked over to your table as you scrambled for your wallet and handed the server your card to run.

“I can’t kick you out, bella. You and your moroso are welcome any time.”

“I think this poor girl would beg to differ,” you said as the server handed your card and signature slip back. She just laughed at your comment, agreeing without saying it outright.

You left a hefty tip and hugged Genny before you and Bucky, both still a bit tipsy, shuffled outside.

“Thanks for buying dinner,” Bucky said. “This means I get to pay next time, though.”

He said it so casually and you already planned on another date, but it still kind of caught you off guard.

“Next time?” You smiled up at him and took a step closer until you were almost toe-to-toe. “There’s gonna be a ‘next time’?”

“I sure hope there is,” he said quietly, his smirk sending a rush up your spine.

“If you insist,” you sighed. He knew better than to believe you weren’t excited for your future plans. “I’m cold. Care to get an Uber with me?”

He gently grabbed your shoulders and spun you around, pulling the loose opening of his jacket over your arms and wrapping his arms around you to help keep you warm.

“Well, yeah. I need to make sure you get home safe so ‘next time’ can happen,” Bucky said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“You know, I don’t usually let men spoon me on the first date,” you joked as you tapped away to order an Uber.

“I can stop, if you want,” he teased.

You gripped his arm as he started to pull away. “I never said that.”

Bucky rode back to your place with you, keeping conversation casual as you both avoided the controversy you were about to face: to kiss on the first date or not. You never really had any issues with it before, but you already really liked Bucky. You didn’t want to risk messing it up by moving too fast. But what grown man would think a kiss on a first date was too fast? Well… maybe one born in the early 1900s…

Before your thoughts could throw you into a downward spiral, the driver pulled up outside your apartment complex. Bucky stepped out first and held the door open for you to scoot out after him. As you stood at the bottom of the stairs to your building, you felt those nerves creeping up on you again. God, you hadn’t felt this nervous about a date since high school.

“I had fun tonight,” Bucky said first, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Me too,” you smiled back. “I’m excited for what you plan for next time.”

Bucky laughed at this, the crinkle of his nose making your own smile grow. God, you wanted to invite him inside already. In your defense, you’ve known him for a full month and spent even longer getting heart-eyes over him in college.

But you reined in your hormones and just took a step closer to him to rest your hands on his chest. His right hand came up to rest on your waist, but he kept the metal hand in his pocket. With your hand placement, you could feel the thrum of his heartbeat and judging by the pace, you knew you were both on the same page. As you were trying to shove your nerves aside, Bucky asked the one question you were hoping for.

“Can I kiss you?”

Knowing he wanted this as much as you did relieved some of your nerves, but also made the moment that much more real. You smiled up at him and nodded your head.

“Yes, please do.”

You perched up on your toes to meet him halfway, letting his lips mold to yours. His hold on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer; you gripped the lapel of his jacket in your fists. Suddenly the cold of the night no longer existed. All you could feel was the warmth radiating off of him as he held you close. He pulled back for a second before diving right back in, this time nipping at your bottom lip. You giggled against him, but didn’t stop him from taking the innocent kiss a step further. Your hands slid from his chest to the nape of his neck before tangling into his long hair. The vibration from his moan as you tugged on his hair ran straight down your spine, making it even harder to leave the date alone.

Reluctantly, you both pulled apart just enough for your noses to brush against each other, the stubble of his beard still tickling your nose. You opened your eyes enough to see the smile on his lips as he pulled back a bit more to see your face.

“I’ll see you Monday?” you said quietly, as if speaking any louder would break you two out of your bubble.

“See you Monday, [Y/N],” Bucky replied just as quietly. His hand slipped from your waist as you backed away, biting your lip at him before you turned and scurried up the steps. Bucky stood on the sidewalk until he could see the light in your apartment flick on, just to make sure you were safe.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x Stark!reader #bucky barnes x stark!reader #Stark!reader #dad!tony #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fic

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

Text

Strike! (Jaehyun x reader)

a/n : okaay soo this was almost from a real story :)) i twisted and improvised something that happened to me :p not important though, but please enjoy this scenario!

warning : none, i think this is save for everyone.. except if you have bad memories with bowling...

characters : you, Jae, and his friends (Yu,Tae,Johnny)

tagging @yutahoes (since she knew what happened) and @neopalette anyone else wants to be tagged in my works tell me :)

enjoy!!

Spring is happening, the flowers are blooming, and the sun has been staying up longer! Everyone’s toasting under the heat and hoping that summer can just come now. You personally enjoy the heat rather than shivering in the cold winter wind. It’s just that you don’t really have anyone to enjoy this beautiful weather with. Just like any other day, you got down from your room to look for dinner. The sun is still up and you choose to just use one of your jacket and plop into your shoes before locking the door and walking nicely to look for food.

You turn on your earphone, playing on some light music so you feel less lonely. It’s just that you have friends but today you don’t feel like eating with them. You’ve been to two classes today and worked on some homework, you noticed it’s time for a “me time”. So, with the sun shining warmly and you enjoying your afternoon walk you smile when you notice how many couples are walking around the campus.

You’re jealous, you wont lie. Come on, who’s not jealous to see cute happy couples walking under the sun and with the blooming flowers things just look like a scene from a movie. You personally slow down to think of which dining hall to visit today. You choose to go to the west side and see what menu they offer.

You don’t see much student there which make you settle quickly on pasta and have them wrap it up to go. Now, with your boxed food, you walk happily to go back to your room only to pause when there’s a sport car filled with hot guys zooming through you.

You notice a lot of people have their eyes glued on the car, or maybe the guys in it. You don’t know them, but one of them seriously looks cute. You locked eyes for a second and you swore you love him at first sight.

“Woah, last time there were girls zooming around in their opened-cabriole cars and now guys too. Guess summer is really near.” You shrug your shoulder and continue to walk.

You pass by the car again but this time it is parked and the four guys are just chilling around their cars. Sipping on some cold energy drinks while giggling and tossing light smiles to the people passing by.

“Who are you looking at young boy?” The man behind the wheels earlier nudges the boy who has his eyes glued on you.

“Um no one-“ he stammers before turning away to look at his feet and feeling his ears burn.

“Oh I see, some freshman I guess-“ the guy with a Japanese accent teases the younger boy.

“Where? I wanna see too!” the smallest one between the three extends his neck to look around.

Their actions bring the crowd’s attention, and you realize you should keep walking. Why were you stopping in first place?

So, without much thought you continue to walk down your road while humming to your music.

“Stop staring,” the guy who’s looking at his feet finally speaks up.

“Why Jaehyun? You’re shy?” The tallest, Johnny aka guy behind wheel, pokes his cheek.

Jaehyun turns red “Nah, I don’t know her. She just passed by and I locked eyes with her.”

“Don’t worry, if Yuta saw her he will know her name.” Taeyong puts a hand over Yuta’s shoulder “Right Yuta?” he asks to clarify his statement.

Yuta nods “If only you justified if that was the girl you’re staring, I may have her name tomorrow.” Yuta plays with his phone.

Jaehyun sighs “Come on, this school is big… there’s no way you’ll get her name.” he hugs his three friends’ shoulders and sighs “Guess that will be the first and last time I see her.”

Johnny clicks his tongue “So dramatic. Duhh, I know how to see her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen “How?”

Taeyong giggles “She went that way, there’s only three houses there. We can just hang around there and see her if she goes out of her building. It’s that simple Jae, don’t be so sad.” Taeyong pats his shoulder and jumps into the car.

“Come on, we have a bowling match tomorrow might want to practice a little bit before the game.” Taeyong calls his other friends into the car and once they’re all in, Johnny hits the road again with high speed to show off his car and the guys inside.

You finish your dinner and clean up your room already. In an hour or two, you’ll wrap up your task and readings then maybe take a rest because tomorrow is a big day. You got more classes to suffer and some dance class to attend.

Your mind flashes back the image of the cute guy seating in the back seat of the sports car earlier. His dimple, his carefree smile and his fluffy wind-blown hair looks perfect. Oh you really wish you can see him one more time.

He doesn’t look like he belongs in your major, man like him probably is an athlete or studies something related to business or sports.

“Come on come to your senses (y/n)! What are the odds he meet you again? Even if he sees you, he won’t notice or realize you’re there.” You try to burry your hope by reminding yourself boys like him belong to the pretty girls with long legs. Unlike you, totally you’re way out of his league.

That night you dream of a fortunate encounter with the mysterious guy and he gives you his name. Weird how you cannot remember his name at all when you wake up, but the day is running and you need to wake up and face reality. He is a prince charming and you’re no Cinderella.

“I told you, I can get her name by today.” Yuta proudly shows Jaehyun and the guys an Instagram profile.

“Wait whoah you really did.” Taeyong says after examining the profile picture because of the private account.

“How did you?” Jaehyun stops asking when his eyes accidentally spot you coming into the room.

“Am I seeing things or is she really here?” Jaehyun whispers to his friends and Johnny gives him a smack “Hurts? It’s real. I see her too.”

Yuta chuckles “Come on, I see her walking to this place and thought maybe she’s here this afternoon. So, I made a quick run through the participant list and look up one by one.”

“Thank you- but oh I am so fortunate to see her again.” Jaehyun is literally having his moment. If this is a drama he’d have romantic bgm and flower petals falling out of nowhere. But this is the bowling room in the campus and it’s far from romantic. Especially when the judge calls for the competitor to get ready.

“Good luck there bro, focus on the game not on the girl.” His friends tease him before leaving to sit in the spectator seat.

You tie your bowling shoes and pick out your own ball. Polishing it and feeling it with your hand before bumping into someone’s sturdy chest.

“Oh- sorry.” You mutter an apology before looking up and freezing in place when you lock eyes with the same man you’ve been dying to see again.

“You-“ he turns pink.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump you. Please don’t kill me.” You beg for him

He chuckles “I will not kill you, but if you want my apology…” he trails off and bends a little bit to see your face closer “Give me your name.”

You turn red now and you feel your face heat up “It’s (y/n)”

He smiles and reaches out his hand “Jaehyun, nice to meet you (y/n)” he shakes your hand and you grin. This is awkward…

“I saw you yesterday on the car. Nice car.” You whisper after both of you sit down to wait for your turns.

Jaehyun nods “Wasn’t my car sadly, but it’s my friend’s.” he points to the three guys enjoying pizza on the spectator bench. You only nod, his friends all look hot.

“So, bowling eh? Good at it?” you ask him when it’s almost his turn. Jaehyun stands up and wears his bowling glove “Good? I just pick this up as a new hobby and I join this to look for new friends.” He gets up to his lane and picks his ball before posing nicely and hits a strike.

You smirk, not bad. He has some talent.

Jaehyun returns after his turn is over and it’s yours now.

“What about you?” he asks

You sweetly smile “Watch and see,”

Jaehyhun notices how you change. Your posture is different, and your gaze definitely burns hole to the wall. He secretly has to control his heartbeat from going up when he sees you hit a strike.

You’re not a newbie, he notices that

“Great posture, accurate and precise.” Jaehyun offers a high-five and you take it.

“Well, thank you that came from years of practice. Pleasure to be your competitor tonight, I am (y/n) the school’s official bowling team leader.” You wink and Jaehyun feels his heart burst into million pieces.

How can you be so cute and so attractive at the same time? Plus what, you’re the bowling athlete team? Hot.

He sure is going to brag on you to his friends, but most importantly he’ll win your number first after the hot tight match. He’s glad Johnny forced him to sign up for this competition, and he’s glad he has the courage to talk with you.

“So, nice game and you’re really good.” Jaehyun nudges your shoulder when the game ends with you winning.

You grin “Oh yeah? Well, what do I get for winning?” you playfully tease him.

He knits his eyebrow for a while before grinning “Do you want my number? We can have lunch together or dinner someday.” He offers you his suggestion and you feel your cheek burns.

“Sure, yes I’d love that.” You gulp and type in your number to his phone.

“Okay, I’ll text you my number so you can save it.” He winks and turns his head around when his friends call him

“I got to go, do you want to go back to your dorm with us?” he offers you a ride but as much as you want to, you know not to accept rides from stranger easily.

You shake your head “I will go with them,” you point to a new group of friends living in the same building you just met earlier.

Jaehyun nods coolly “Okay, text me when you got home.” He points to your phone that lights up with a message from him.

You smile and wave your hand as you walk to the other friends “Bye Jaehyun! It was nice meeting you.”

Turns out yesterday was not the first and last time he sees you.

end

#multifandomnet #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x you #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun oneshot #nct oneshot #nct fluff #nct flirt line #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun college au #nct college au #nct x reader #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun x you

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utterlyinevitable · 4 years ago

Text

The Conference (Part 9)

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 3.7k Rating: T+ Warning: Some cursing Summary: It’s the evening after the keynote and they go out for a civil dinner date.

A/N: shout out to ruby @starrystarrytrouble for reminding me people actually like reading this mess 💕

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After we finished up the panel I stuck around the conference hall to network whilst Ethan had ditched the crowd at the first opportunity he got, heading back to our hotel room and venturing away from the pecking vultures. To be honest, I didn’t really blame him. Everyone wanted a piece of the poor, well-endowed man.

A couple hours later, I shuffled back into our apartment. My aching feet somehow prevailed without causing me to collapse on the odd geometric carpet floor, or ditching my heels along the way and walking barefoot like some uncultured frosh stumbling home at 3AM. Once through the heavy metal plated door, I headed straight to my room, not throwing a single pleasantry towards Ethan in the seating area. From what I could tell he was typing furiously on his laptop after nursing a scotch - the empty crystal tumbler on the table was a dead giveaway.

The anxiety and delirium inducing stress of the day lifted the second my kinda-sweaty body collapsed onto the private armchair in my room, clutching its aqua-colored arms and sinking into the velvet cushion. Staring out at the familiar skyline my mind started to replay the happenings of the day; every little thing that happened - from the confidence I felt during our speech, to the way that asshole called me out, and how Ethan stood up for me every step of the way. How proud he was even if he relayed the sentiment in such small words.

We survived today. We haven’t strangled each other nor suffered any little deaths. All that’s left for this trip is the tour we have tomorrow morning, and then we’ll be on our way back to Edenbrook. Back to the way things were…

Somehow my tired and self destructive brain decided it wanted to revel in the memories of the last few days. Thinking about all the non-work things that happened this trip. Thinking of all the words shared, and the blast from the past. And the revelation that little adventure birthed.

Fuck me...

Things are weird. Like, so weird. I don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m even thinking this… but I miss him. Today showed me how great we are together! Professionally and as friends. We’re the dynamic duo: Ramsey and his Rookie. His. I -

I need to stop thinking that.

I belong to myself. I do what I want when I want and with whom I want.

And so does he. And that’s why I walked away. I’m-

I’m still getting over him.

While simultaneously trying to get under him…

Thoughts wandered back to Ryan and how long it took me to get over the detrimental ‘what if’s of him. If I held on tighter and longer and didn’t get in the way of myself back then - if one thing was different - everything could be different.

A small, revelatory gasp escaped me.

I didn’t want things to be different.

After eight fucking years I finally understood.

If I didn’t love and lose Ryan I never would have found my way to Boston. To Ethan. And here - knowing what I do and having all the experiences of the last few months - I couldn’t continue a life without knowing Ethan Ramsey.

I’m going to do whatever I can to repair our friendship.

I changed my clothes into something not requiring heels - black skinny jeans, a blouse and my trusty Chelsea boots - and my hair pulled back into a bun. Simple, sleek, and completely me. No pomp and circumstance, or hiding behind anything. Just me, making an effort.

With all the determination I could muster I sauntered into the living room where I assumed Ethan would still be.

I was right; he hadn’t changed positions at all. Sitting there on the couch, his feet up on the gaudy footstool with his laptop perched on his lap, tortoise-patterned glasses framing his face, and furiously typing on the keyboard.

“So...” I trailed awkwardly to break the tension surrounding him, leaning against the wall with my hands stuffed in my armpits. “What do you want to do for dinner?”

“Oh,” He planted his feet on the floor and turned to face me fully, moving his laptop off of him and folding his arms in his lap. “Uh, well-”

Quickly I added, “If you’d rather eat alone it’s fine by me. I was thinking of grabbing pizza at John’s.”

Ethan nodded in response, saying, “Sounds good.”

“Cool,” I nodded back. “You ready or…?”

“Let me grab my things,” he stood, collected his things and headed to his room.

Less than two minutes later we headed out of the apartment together, walking side by side. Though this time wasn’t like earlier. There wasn’t the blind determination and need to impress like this morning. Right now we were two people who used to know one another going out to dinner in a spectacular converted synagogue.

***

For anyone who doesn’t know John’s, it’s a local family-style pizza joint. There’s three restaurants around the city and the Times Square location is by far the best. Every time I have a hot minute to spare I try to go - the stained glass and craftsmanship of the building is everything! But you don’t want to hear about that… and neither did Ethan when I tried to fill the silence during our walk with all the reasons to love this place. For some reason he preferred to barge and weave in silence.

Whatever.

Lucky enough he was more chatty once we were seated.

Our table was in the mezzanine with not much of a view besides the stone staircase in the corner and the large dome towering above. The dim lighting complimented the deep wooden table and beige upholstered seating.

We ordered. And without the menu to keep our attention, I tried my hand at conversation once more.

“Be honest, how did we do?”

Looking me in the eyes, ones that mirrored mine, showed such confidence and pride as he said his next words;

“You handled it well, Becca.” There was a tug at the corners of his mouth that pulled at my own. I was about to get a rare Ramsey smile - one I’ve been devoid of for far too long.

“Dare I even say, like a natural.”

I got to revel in the small compliment for a few moments as the server brought over our food - garlic knots, small veggie pizza, and a chef’s side salad.

“I didn’t stutter too much or come off too young?” I couldn’t help but ask when it was just us two again. His opinion matters more than anyone else’s when it comes to my career.

“You did.”

“But you -”

He cut me off, a slight shake of his big head, “You are young and this was your first keynote.” he clarified. And once more he said pridefully, “You did well.”

After what felt like ages we shared a private smile. How he was able to bring me back into myself with a few words and stop fussing over imposter syndrome is a wonder.

“Now eat some pizza and be happy.”

My smile grew to a goofy one by the way he was looking at me, bemused. I refrained from sticking my tongue out and dug into a little slice of heaven. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

We dug in. Letting the flavors dance over my taste buds and make me only as happy as a New York slice could make me. No amount of fantastic sex could compare to pizza. Everything kind of disappeared - time stopped while the first bites settled in my tummy. Even Ethan looked to be enjoying it even though it’s not fancy smancy and artery clogging.

Eventually I broke our companioned silence;

“How was lunch with Chief Fredericks?” I asked as I reached for a scrumptious ball of garlicy dough.

The response left his lips so swiftly he didn’t even bother to look up from his plate;

“Informative.”

I scoffed at the non-answer answer.

My little grumble pulled him out of his bubble and he looked over at me - those damn baby blues challenging my thoughtfully indecent outburst. I just gave him a look right back.

Ethan rolled his eyes and reached for another slice. Cutting it up with a fork and knife like an absolute weirdo.

“He heard about the state budget cuts. Wanted to know what I think and if I’d be open to consult every so often.”

“And?” I probed.

“And what? You know how I feel about the future of Edenbrook.”

“Yes. But if it goes under, what do you think you’ll do? I mean, everyone’s going to be throwing themselves at you.”

I shoved some greenery in my gob to keep from adding the jarring truth.

Everyone throws themselves at you.

But who he gives his attention to is another story.

Ethan shrugged ever so nonchalantly, “I haven’t thought about it.”

The cavalier way he was speaking of his life after Edenbrook had thrown me off. Ethan was never this laid-back. It just wasn’t in his nature. There’s always something for this man to stress over. And Edenbrook’s closing should be his anxiety numero uno.

But here he was, ever so calm.

Hmm...

“Are you in denial?” I said through a bite, fully anticipating another non-answer.

“Maybe.”

The way he said it took me aback. It was inherently honest and soft. All of his jagged features were rounded and there was a dulled little twinkle in his eye.

Yeah, something’s going on here he’s not telling me.

“Ethan -”

And of course he deflects by turning the conversation on me; “What are you going to do?”

Keeping from rolling my eyes at his obvious deflection from roaming into his feelings deeper, I replied, “Transfer my residency.”

“Where?”

“I…” - dammit - “don’t know.”

I haven’t really dwelled on what happens when the hospital closes. Obviously I need to finish residency if I want to be an actual practicing doctor. But the matching process can go screw itself. I don’t never ever want to do that again - all I cared about was matching with the best. And I did. So who’s the second best now?

Is it wherever he goes?

There’s just so much to think about, and I’d really rather not. Not until the last few nails are lined up against the coffin.

“See,” he said with a hint of a lopsided grin, “Neither of us are ready to leave Edenbrook behind.”

He was right. Of course he’s right. You didn’t need to be a diagnostician or even a doctor to see that we’re holding out hope of a buyout.

I’ve just gotten to Edenbrook - only a few months into my dream career with my dream boss - and now, what? It’s all over before it even really began? No. I can’t accept that.

There was a beat of silence as we both reached for the salad tongs, our hands brushing on accident. Both our eyes shot to bear witness to the contact, pulling us out of whatever ran wild through our thoughts and into this new, secluded moment. Everything around us dulled in the distance; the sounds swirling in the air muted and like a faint breeze. The warm lighting dimmed further, yet there was a spotlight on the salad bowl. The greens and reds and purples of the ruffage illuminated like it was the only thing that mattered. Like right now the earth was spinning just for this moment of closeness.

Surprisingly, neither of us made a motion to move. His large hand overlapping my dainty fingers, the metal underneath the pads of my fingers warming up instantly. Electricity still coursed through me like the very first time. Except now it carried the memories of all the other times and places he set me aflame.

I had to be the one to pull back.

Almost, like it needed time to comprehend why the moment was intentionally ruined, the atmosphere around us began to revert back slightly. I could hear the idle chatter of those around us now. I could see the full picture of Ethan sitting across from me and all the individuals pattering around behind him. What couldn’t pretend to go back and hung off kilter was the beating in my chest - I could feel the electricity coursing through my veins and putting my heart through the ringer.

Ethan made up for it by serving me.

Does he know he still has such an effect on me?

Quick! I needed to divert my thoughts off of the creeping flush and want from taking hold. So I went back to talking about work, our safe topic.

“If you could work anywhere else in the world where would it be?” I asked.

Ethan took a moment to think as he served himself some salad. He looked like he was actually thinking of an answer, maybe, for the first time he’s digested the hospital’s fate.

“I think the next logical step would be the Mayo Clinic. They’re the best diagnostics in the world.” His eyes diverted back down to his plate and, after a beat, he added, “I also wouldn’t mind spending more time on missions with The WHO.”

My eyes searched his as they looked anywhere but where I was seated across from him, trying to find any sort of fault in his features. Something, anything, that I could hold onto. Nothing. Just stupid sincerity. The first fucking time in weeks he actually lets us talk about his time in the Amazon I can’t be mad at him.

“You really enjoyed your time there, huh?”

“It…” he hesitated, choosing his words carefully.

We’ve wandered into emotional territory and we both needed to tread carefully. I need to remember that he was never mine, as much as I felt like his from our first kiss. Need to recall that back then everything was drawn out in plain sight. Our end was always just that - an end. I Need to forgive. And try to remember that at one point he did try to fight for me, in his round-a-bout noncommittal way, and I was the one to end things officially.

We both need to forgive. Especially if these are the last few months we have working together.

“Was important work and I got to make a difference in the lives of thousands of indigenous people.” Ethan took another small pause for breath. When he continued, his deep baritone voice was lower, “Even if my intentions for going were skewed, it was an opportunity of a lifetime.”

The simplest thing to do would be to nod, or eat - distract myself - or even change the subject. To try not to dwell on the implications of the statement. But I couldn’t. My body tensed and the warmth from moments before fled completely.

We were silent. The brutal truth of why he left stinging just as much as it did the day I found out.

Minutes, many many minutes passed with me finding solace in sweet savory carbs and Ethan pushing things around on his plate.

Eager to change the subject there was one other topic of the day I was endlessly curious to know more about;

“So, what’s the deal with Dr. Schwab?”

“Don’t.” He dismissed, his authoritative voice seeping through just a tad. Though I’d like to think he’s smart enough not to use it with me outside of Edenbrook.

“If you don’t tell me I’ll be forced to fabricate my own. I’m feeling a one-night stand gone wrong.”

He looked back down at his food.

“Oh my god, I’m right.” The smile that erupted literally took over my entire face. I could not hide it even if I tried.

“Rebecca,” he tried to scold.

“Now you have to tell me.”

Just like earlier he turned the conversation back on me; “What’s with the frat boy?”

“Ryan was never in a fraternity,” I responded, not hiding the grin that formed by putting Ethan in his place. “He’s a jock though.”

He expelled a dry laugh, “I don’t think that’s any better.” He took a bite of his salad. Something radiated off of Ethan I couldn’t quite place.

“We were close in high school,” I added for reasons I’m not quite sure why. Like that explained who Ryan was and why he came back into my life now, of all times.

Ethan made a condescending, “mhm”.

I rolled my eyes; “We had a thing for a while, okay.” I conceded. “We grew apart senior year, and then I went off to college. Last night was the first time we’ve spoken in, like, eight years.”

Ethan made absolutely no reactions to the statement. Not even a stupid wiggle of his dumb perfect eyebrow.

Is he even paying attention?

“Now tell me about Schwab - sorry, Hilary,” I coaxed.

Ethan’s hand flew to the bridge of his nose and up to carefully rub his eyes.

This has gotta be good.

I waited patiently and eagerly for this story. She couldn’t have been Ethan’s type and yet… What happened!?

Eyes still shut tight, he grumbled, “What’s there to tell?”

“Obviously something happened,” I couldn’t help but mock, “You slept together!”

“Yes, and it’s something I do not like to dwell on.”

“Sorry, buddy, but it looks like she does.”

He groaned. Then shifted in his chair. Ethan took a long drag of his drink. And just when I figured he was going to wait this out until one of us changed the subject, he spoke;

“A moment of weakness a few years back. And she was…”

Ah! It’s actually happening! Ethan’s telling a salacious story!

Shifting in my seat and placing my head in my hands to give him my full attention; My brows and smile grew as I finished the sentence for him, “Eager?”

He scowled.

“Jesus Christ, Ethan, just tell me what happened!”

“I will not go into details.”

“Fine.” I made a motion with my hand for him to continue without the juicy details.

“Harper and I had just ended things for good not long before…”

We ended up going back and forth for a while - Ethan not wanting to give anything up and me pulling as much as I could out of him. Long story short, Ethan was in a weird mental state after breaking up with Harper for the hundredth and final time in their six year relationship. He took up a conference opportunity to get away for two nights. Knowing how much he loves people, Ethan spent most of his time drowning his senses at the hotel bar. And low and behold, enter Hillary.

From the sounds of it she was agreeable and very very forward. And Ethan was so lost in liquor that her voice didn’t irritate him as much as it did the next morning, and every single time they were in close proximity thereafter. Hillary had been going through a separation with her husband and needed a distraction just as bad. Really, who could blame her? Toting Ethan around would be the best revenge.

The first night of his stay was fine - apparently the sex was satisfactory and she didn’t do anything remarkably memorable. Or so he says. I still think she looks like a squawker. He didn’t linger around long after before retreating to his hotel room. Then the next afternoon he was bored and weak and agreed to lunch. And lunch turned into drinks which turned into round two. In his room. And she didn’t leave. She wasn’t leaving. So Ethan bought an earlier plane ticket, and shook her awake before checking out.

And every conference since she seems to want to entertain a rematch.

“Oh my god, you’re horrible!” I exclaimed ever delightfully. This was hilarious!

“I shouldn’t really be surprised. You flew to another continent after we slept together.” Shaking my head, a stupid little smirk on my lips I asked, “Have you ever had a one night stand before?”

“Wha - of course I have!”

“One’s that didn’t end up with you getting on a plane?”

He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “If you must know, I’ve had my fair share in undergrad.”

Now it was my turn to send a condescending “mhm” his way.

We spoke longer and polished off our plates - not a single crumb remained. This was nice. Really nice getting to be close to him again and just being friends. Telling stories and exchanging playful jabs here and there. It’s how I fell for the idiot in the first place.

Baby steps.

Two hours after we arrived the server came over with the bill.

She was friendly and lovely the whole meal. The best part about her style of service is that she let us just exist and didn’t check up all that often. When she did I could tell she overheard someone of the crap Ethan and I were spewing. She had one of those knowing smiles, like she was in on our jokes the entire time.

“Can I just say, you guys are adorable,” she relayed with the brightest of smiles after setting the padfolio on the table, her hands clapping together excitedly. She looked like a child who had just met Santa Claus for the first time.

L O L she thinks we’re together.

At that I actually laughed out loud before informing, “We’re colleagues. In town for a conference.”

The horror on the girl's face said it all.

“Oh! My mistake, sorry. I can split the bill for you.” She reached for the pad where it sat in front of Ethan.

He grabbed the black leather at the same time I spoke;

"Nope, dinner’s on him.” I cupped a hand over my mouth and pointed a not-at-all discreet thumb towards him, “He'll get reimbursed," I laughed more to myself than anything.

She smiles, a little relieved by my warmth, then turns to look at Ethan - silently asking permission or if it’s okay that he pays. Generally looking for some sort of direction from the old man.

He shoots the server a look. Then forks over his credit card.

As she saunters off, I smile at him sweetly, “Thank you.”

Of course he rolls his eyes. But that rise in the corners of his mouth says so much more.

________________________________________

A/N: sorry it’s shit. thank you for sticking with this series 💕 we’ve just got one chapter left!

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the-rad-pineapple · 3 years ago

Text

the precious hours

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Supernatural oneshot: Dean comes back to visit Cas when Cas is human in Season 9.

Words: 2302

ao3

fanfiction

wattpad

Title and story based off the song The Precious Hours by Proleter.

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

Feelings. That is the best and worst thing about being human. Castiel has never felt more elated, giddy, and happy but sad, desperate, and lonely all this intensely or this close together. The span of emotions he experiences in one day is more than he’s felt...probably ever. And to make everything worse, Dean is back.

It’s torture. Dean makes Castiel feel so good. Castiel is always happy being around Dean. He smiles the most when he’s with Dean. Castiel isn’t sure why. It feels like, well, magic. It’s nothing like anything else he feels. Dean makes him feel many physical sensations, too. Like rushes of adrenaline and a fluttering sensation in his stomach. But it is also terrible. Castiel wants more. He wants to touch Dean. Hold him. Have Dean hold him. Kiss. It’s strange. Castiel somehow feels lonely even when he’s next to Dean. He knows Dean doesn’t feel the same, and it hurts. It’s not a physical pain, but there is no other way to describe how painful the emotions feel other than saying they hurt. Castiel finds he wants to spend as much time as he can with Dean to feel the good emotions, despite knowing he’ll feel the bad ones, too. Especially right after Dean leaves. Castiel thinks loneliness is one of the worst feelings. But Castiel pushes that aside. Dean returned just a week after he left the first time and took Castiel to dinner without an explanation. So now they’re sitting across from each other in a booth at a diner Castiel has never been to. He can’t really afford to eat out anywhere, but Castiel doesn’t tell Dean. He can probably pay for this one meal if he doesn’t eat a lot. The appetizers look affordable. Embarrassment and shame strike him much more deeply now, and he really cares what Dean thinks about him, so he doesn’t want Dean knowing this will really cut into his expenses. “You’re just having a water?” Dean asks after the waitress asked Castiel what he was going to drink. “Two beers, please,” Dean orders before Castiel can interject. Castiel turns his attention back to his menu, swallowing down the dread building there. Now he’s going to have to pay for that, too. “Cas, what’s wrong?” Castiel looks up. Dean is staring at him sternly. Concern. Castiel finds it’s much easier to read and understand human emotions now that he feels many of these emotions himself. “Nothing,” Castiel lies. “Why are you here, Dean?” Dean shrugs, but Castiel can see he’s still tense. Something is bothering him. “Just needed a break, you know?” Castiel knows Dean isn’t telling him everything. But he knows if he brings it up, Dean will just deny it, so Castiel just nods. The waitress returns, and they both order. “You’re not getting much,” Dean comments. Castiel glances up self-consciously. He knew Dean was going to judge him on his order. But when Castiel meets Dean’s gaze, it’s filled with the same concern as earlier. Castiel answers, “I’m not hungry.” Another lie. The only other food he’s eaten today was a Nature Valley bar at lunch. He’s never buying Nature Valley again. Those bars basically crumble to dust before you can even bring them to your mouth. The waitress returns with the beers. Dean eagerly grabs his and takes a long sip. Castiel picks his up as Dean is drinking. He drinks a little. He knows the alcohol will go straight to his head since he’s hardly eaten. Maybe it will make him feel a little better. So Castiel takes another, longer drink. An awkward silence stretches between them, and Castiel traces the dips of the wooden table with his index finger. “So, how have you been?” Dean asks. Castiel looks up and is immediately suspicious. He studies Dean’s expression, but he can’t tell what Dean is thinking. Why does Dean want to know? Castiel doesn’t want Dean to worry about him, so he lies. “Fine,” Castiel says. “How are you?” “Just great,” Dean says while picking up his beer again. But Dean’s tone doesn’t reflect his words. Sarcasm. Castiel instantly feels concern tighten his chest. He can’t help it. He knows what Dean does, and sometimes he can’t sleep because he worries Dean is dying somewhere and needs his help. But Castiel can’t help. “What’s going on, Dean?” Castiel asks. “I lied to Sam, and it finally caught up with me.” Castiel blinks in surprise at Dean’s honesty. He can see the regret in Dean’s eyes and pressed lips. Castiel is dying to know more and

wants to help, but he knows he probably won’t be able to. Dean doesn’t accept help a lot anyway. “Want to talk about it?” Castiel offers. “No.” “Ok.” Another awkward silence fills the air again. Castiel goes back to tracing the table. Smelling all the food surrounding them is making him even hungrier. It feels like ten years have passed. “How’s work?” Dean asks. “Fine.” This time it isn’t a lie. Work’s not great. Castiel would rather be helping Dean. But it’s also not terrible. It’s just fine. The food finally arrives, and they both begin eating. A word hardly passes between them as they eat. Castiel hasn’t eaten a meal this good...maybe ever. Or since he can really taste food. He mainly eats sandwiches or things from the store, so a hot meal is everything. It is worth the money after all. Castiel finishes eating and moves to drink some beer but pauses when he realizes Dean is staring. Does he have food on his face or something? Castiel wipes his mouth just in case. “What?” Castiel asks when Dean continues to stare. Dean blinks rapidly and looks down. Are there tears in his eyes? Castiel leans closer. “Dean, what’s wrong?” “When was the last time you ate?” Dean’s gaze snaps back up. The eye contact and the question catch Castiel off guard. His breath sticks in his throat, and he swallows. Castiel doesn’t want Dean to know how bad he’s struggling. He’s not entirely sure why. He knows a part of him wants to avoid feeling any form of shame. Another part might be the little bit of pride he has left. “A few hours ago,” Castiel answers. It’s the truth. He just didn’t tell Dean exactly how much or what he ate. “What did you eat?” “A...bar.” Castiel isn’t exactly sure what the type of food he ate is called. “Like a protein bar?” Castiel isn’t exactly sure what makes a bar a protein bar. “Yes? It was crumbly.” He hopes his description is helpful. “Is that all you’ve had today?” Dean asks. His words are sharp. Castiel looks back down at his plate. Anxiety wells in his stomach, and his shoulders tighten. He knows he can’t lie to Dean, but he also doesn’t want to admit that the bar is all he’s had. He doesn’t want Dean to think less of him. “Dammit, Cas,” Dean says quietly. “I’m sorry,” Castiel feels himself automatically respond. It’s as if the phrase has the power to make everything better. Castiel chances a glance up at Dean. Dean is running a hand over his face. Their eyes meet. “Where are you staying?” Dean asks quietly. Castiel knows he can’t answer this. The embarrassment will be too much. He can’t even get a place to sleep. Dean will think he’s pathetic or something similar. Castiel grabs his beer and drinks, hoping to stall. He slowly sets the bottle down once he’s finished. “Cas?” Dean prompts. He refuses to answer. “Why are you asking me these questions, Dean?” Castiel asks instead. “Because, this is happening to you because of me,” Dean answers. Castiel is confused. Dean has nothing to do with his food and sleeping situation. “What do you mean?” “If I hadn’t told you to leave, you’d be with me.” Dean doesn’t look Castiel in the eye. Castiel frowns. “I know. That doesn’t make it your fault.” “Yes, it does.” Dean looks up resolutely. He glances over and waves at their waitress, signaling for the checks. “You’re coming back with me.” Castiel’s heart skips a beat. This is exactly what he wants to hear. This can’t be happening. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. Maybe Dean is just saying it to be polite. “You don’t have to,” Castiel says, giving Dean the option to change his mind. “No, I do,” Dean answers. The waitress places a receipt on the table. Castiel realizes he’s doesn’t know how to pay like this. Dean takes his wallet out and places his credit card on the receipt. That’s when Castiel notices there’s just one receipt. “You don’t have to pay for me,” Castiel says. “Too bad.” “...thank you.” They both look at each other again. The guilt in Dean’s eyes is so clear. Castiel stares. What’s wrong with Dean? Why

is he feeling this way? And why is he feeling it so strongly? There’s movement to Castiel’s left, and he glances at the waitress as she takes Dean’s card. “Are you all set to leave?” Dean asks. “With me?” Castiel nods slowly. He isn’t sure why Dean is asking. “Do you have all your stuff?” Dean asks to clarify. Castiel only has his toiletries and a little bit of food plus his sleeping bag stored back at work. He does have enough money to buy more of that, though. He also doesn’t want to go back to work. Castiel answers, “Nothing that I can’t buy.” Dean nods. “Good.” But his features remain hard. The waitress comes back with Dean’s card. He quickly replaces it in his wallet, grabs his jacket, and stands. Castiel follows. He looks at the parking lot through the glass doors. Snow is coming down heavily. Castiel can already feel the wet flakes soaking through his thin work shirt and grimaces. “Here,” Dean says while holding out his jacket. Castiel glances up at him to confirm it’s okay to take it. Dean nods, and Castiel grabs it and puts it on. It’s a little big, but it’s warm, and it smells like Dean.

It feels like home. Dean leads them outside, and Castiel follows him to the Impala. He gets inside the passenger side. Dean turns the car on, and they start driving. Castiel feels himself relaxing. Being next to Dean back in the Impala is so familiar. And safe. He glances out the window. The snow is thick and heavy. “We might have to stop somewhere,” Dean says. “Okay,” Castiel responds. He doesn’t care what they do. Just as long as he’s back with Dean. Castiel doesn’t realize he’s dozed off until he jerks awake. Something is on his shoulder. He turns to see Dean’s hand. “Got us a motel room,” Dean explains. Castiel nods tiredly and steps out of the car. He closes the car door and wraps Dean’s jacket tighter around himself. The snow is sticking to the ground, and Castiel takes an experimental step. He makes a wet footprint. He steps next to it to make another footprint. Why is that fun? A big snowflake hits his shoe, and he looks up. The night sky is light from the swirling snow. It’s beautiful. It’s cold but cozy somehow. Castiel looks down from the sky to see Dean staring at him. He has a small smile on his face, and his eyes are lit with...something. His nose and cheeks are pink, softening the usual hard lines on his face. It’s...cute. The image of Dean smiling at him in the swirling snow makes Castiel feel warm inside. Contentment...no. Happiness. And a little bit of excitement. Castiel smiles and walks to Dean’s side. “I like the snow,” Castiel comments. “I hadn’t noticed.” Castiel blushes in embarrassment at the thought of Dean waiting on him while he stared at the snow. Dean’s hand touches Cas’ lower back as he leads them to their room. It only makes Castiel blush more. He hopes the cold disguises his red face. They finally reach their room. Dean fiddles with the key before finally getting the door open. He steps inside and turns on the light. The room is small and only a little warmer than it is outside. Dean immediately goes over to the thermostat. Castiel closes and locks the door. He walks over to the closest bed and sits down. He takes his shoes off. Then Castiel realizes he’s still wearing Dean’s jacket. He can’t help but feel a little disappointed at the thought of returning it. It’s like a little piece of Dean that’s his own. Castiel reluctantly takes the jacket off. “Dean.” He holds the jacket out to him. Dean turns from his spot near the thermostat. “Keep it for now. I have my flannel.” “Thanks.” Castiel hopes his excitement isn’t too obvious. He puts it back on and climbs under the covers. He lays down and stares at Dean.

Dean suddenly turns and says, “Sorry I didn’t bring any extra clothes. I thought I could make this in one trip. So, uh, yeah. Sorry.” His eyes dance around the room before settling on Cas.

“It’s okay, Dean,” Castiel replies.

Dean quickly looks away and focuses on the thermostat again. But Castiel notices the tears he was trying to blink back. Dean finishes figuring out the thermostat and turns on the bedside lamp. He walks back towards the door and turns off the main light before falling on his bed. He rolls over to turn the lamp off. “Dean?” Castiel asks. Dean glances over. “Yeah?” “Thank you for coming back for me.” Dean stares. Then must realize he’s staring and clears his throat awkwardly. “It’s what family does.” He clicks off the lamp. Castiel smiles, grateful the darkness covers it. But he doesn’t see Dean’s smile, mirroring his own.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural oneshot #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #season 9 #human!cas

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iknowyouthinkimbulletproof · 4 years ago

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18- Ashton Irwin

A/N: another 5sos fic! Ashton Irwin x y/n. Y/n’s gender is female for this fic, it just made it easier to write, my apologies to anyone it might upset, but you can always request. Feel free to correct any mistakes! Requested by @suchalonelysunflower for my writing challenge: Lizza my darling, for the writing challenge I shall ask the song 18 by One Direction and any of the 5sos boys ❤️ my heart needs fluffy/angst or whatever you chose to do 💕🦋. i was supposed to post it a while ago...whoops. *=song lyrics

not my gif

1535 words

*I got a heart and I got a soul

Believe me, I will use them both

We made a start, be it a false one I know

Baby, I don't want to feel alone*

For as long as they can remember, Ashton and y/n were always parts of each other's lives. Their mothers had become friends around their time of pregnancy since y/n’s mother had just moved in next door. Despite that, Ash and y/n barely talked. When they were 10, Ash had scared her off by bullying her. It wasn’t intentional, he just had a crush on her and like most young boys, he became slightly rude towards her till it progressed to the point where he was seen as a bully.

It wasn’t until they were 17 that they became close. y/n’s father, who wasn’t really in the picture, had passed. It hit her hard. Though they were never close, when he passed y/n realized that even if she wanted to fix her relationship with her father, it was too late. Ashton knew what it was like to grow up without a father, so he took her under his wing. The first couple months together Ash had tried to get her to go out more often and join some clubs at school, but she refused. Soon their friendship grew to the point where they felt most happiest next to each other.

When Ashton joined the band, 5 seconds of summer, he begged y/n to meet the boys. It took until their third performance together for y/n to meet them. Though she was closed off most of the time, she had grown slightly close to Ash's old band member in “swallow the goldfish”. She didn’t want to get close to them if they weren’t going to be in their lives for long. Seeing as the boys of 5sos were younger, she didn’t think that Ash would be there for long. Especially since Micheal had only asked him to join because they needed a drummer for their first jig.

After the band had taken off, Ash had asked y/n to go on tour with them. She did, and while there she grew even closer to Ash. she got to know him more, she helped him through everything and never questioned when he needed a shoulder to cry on.

*So kiss me where I lay down

My hands pressed to your cheeks

A long way from the playground*

Their first kiss was magical, but they pretended it never happened. Ash and the guys had just gotten to the hotel after a performance. It was their first concert for the Youngblood tour and the excitement had gotten to him. He wanted to see y/n, so he rushed his goodbyes to the guys and rushed to the elevator. Of course she had gone to the show, but she had some work to catch up on. She wasn't a teen anymore. She had a job, it was pure luck that when she went in to ask for a week or so off that her boss was in a good mood. He walked in on her lying in bed, computer open next to her.

“Procrastinating?” he asked, spooking her as he leaned on the wall.

“I guess you could call it that.” she teased “ i finished most of it, but i can’t seem to figure out the rest of it and i’d rather do it with a big cup of coffee in the morning.”

“Well, I'm happy you’re done for the night. Only because that means I get to binge watch criminal minds with you.” It had been a long day, nothing could be better than watching a show and eating a big meal with your best friend. “What did you want to order?”

“Well there’s room service, but i’ve been craving chinese food for a while.” she answered while pausing the Grey’s anatomy and looking up at him.

“Guess it’s chinese then.” he winked and pushed himself off the wall. Shoes were thrown off and a big jump was made onto the bed. “The usual?” He questioned, not noticing that she was staring.

“Yep, and-”

“-Don’t forget the egg rolls” he interrupted as he typed into his phone. She blushed. She knew that he knew her well, but sometimes even the little things can make her heart beat faster than if she were to go skydiving. Focusing her attention back onto the laptop, she figured now would be the best time to change the show.

After dinner they laid on the bed, computer in between them, season 8 of criminal minds playing. As the fifth episode they watch that night ends, Ash looks over at her. She felt the stares, so she looked over. Before anything could be spoken, he places his hand on her cheek and brings her closer. y/n’s breathing picks up speed. Once their lips met, their eyes shut. y/n leaned closer, fingers inching towards the back of his head and pulling slighting on the hair that was at the beginning of his neck. The kiss was passionate. In the movies, they always describe first kisses like fireworks. This was better. It was as if the whole world disappeared. Or as if they have finally been able to hold something that seems too far away, but just as fast as the kiss started...it ended. In a matter of seconds whatever it was they held in their grasp, it was gone.

They pulled away and Ash started mumbling to himself. He left the room, leaving his shoes and phone. That night y/n cried, all night. Her protector was gone and her heart was shattered. He shattered it.

The day afterwards, she went to Ash and Calum’s room. Ashton was still asleep, so Calum opened the door. She gave him Ash’s belongings and then went down to breakfast. When the band joined her, the pair of forbidden lovers acted like normal. They joked around and the boys didn’t suspect a thing.

*And all I can do is say that these arms were made for holding you

And I wanna love like you made me feel

When we were eighteen*

Now, in 2020, both Ashton and y/n were in quarantine….on opposite sides of town. It had been forever since they last saw each other. It had given them time to grow separately and to think about what they really wanted. y/n knew for years that what she wanted was Ash. she knew the moment he walked into her home asking if she needed anything. It was a lot of work throughout these months for her to figure out that what she needed was him. She had him, but not fully, not the way she wanted. During the months of 2020, Ashton had gone through a break up. It didn’t hurt him as much as he thought. As much as anyone thought. If he was being honest with himself, it didn’t hurt at all. Ash used his time off making music. Some of which anyone could listen to. Specific songs though, they were meant for one person. y/n. He had never been the best at expressing his feelings, unless it was through music.

That led him to where he is currently. Sitting at his desk, listening to the song he wrote for her, over and over again. He was going to send it, he had to. He wanted her completely. He wanted her in his arms, like she was meant to be. He press sent, then waited. He only took his eyes off the screen, to grab water. He waited, but nothing ever came. Nothing but the word “seen”. He sent another message to clarify that it was to her...and about her. After about half an hour, tears started to pour down his face, the anxiety won. He broke down.

When y/n received the text she just finished showering. It had been sent 5 minutes ago. She sat and listened to the melody that played after pressing the link he had sent. Going back to the messages, she wanted to compliment the song, she saw the new text he had sent. Tears started to fall down her eyes, but they were tears of joy. Instead of texting back, she rushed up and grabbed her keys. She needed to see him just as much as she needed air.

When she arrived, her legs became like that of a cat’s. Fast. she knocked on the door, listening to her thumping heart. The door opens. Everything clicks together perfectly, all initiated by y/n.. First their eyes, then their hands, and finally their lips. It took a second for Ash to realize what was happening and when he did the kiss took a turn. It turned sloppy and desperate, somehow the passion could still be felt. Ashton pulled her inside the house by her waist, closing the door with his foot and pressing her onto it. They pull away, still close with their breaths mixing together.

“I love you” y/n whispers tugging his hair again.

“I have loved you since we were 18”

#ashton irwin imagine #ashton x reader #ashton x y/n #5sos fics #ashton fic #@suchalonelysunflower #writing challenge

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capaldifiction · 4 years ago

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Our Chaotic Life (Part 2) - Lewis Capaldi x Reader

Well I told myself this series would be individuals scenes per part and I’d keep them relatively short. Yeah I already broke that on part 2. If you’ve read my other stuff you’ve probably noticed I tend to write long fics so hopefully this was just expected lol Hope you all enjoy part 2!

Paring: Lewis Capaldi x Comedian Reader

Word Count: 2,938

Description: Based on the request: “Lewis and the reader are kinda like a power couple of sorts? Idk it sounds cheesy but maybe she’s like a comedian or something and they are kinda infamous for their TikToks and Instagram Lives and stuff of that sort? Maybe it’s just a compilation of them just being effin adorable?“

In this part Lewis and Y/N go on a date.

Warnings: Some swearing (this is just going to be on every fic tbh)

PART 1

Y/N looks herself over in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. Everything she put on she hated.

After meeting at the venue, her and Lewis had their first ‘date’ that night after their gigs. The audience had liked both their sets, and they’d gone out for drinks to celebrate. Since then they’d managed to find time for two more dates during the day.

What she wasn’t prepared for was how much she liked him increasing after each date. What had started as a joke, seemed like it was turning into something else. But they’d only had drinks and two lunch dates so far. When he’d called to ask her on another, and she suggested meeting up later for dinner instead, she hadn’t fully thought that through.

Staring at her open wardrobe in front of her, she sighed. The drinks were just that, drinks after a gig. She wore what she’d been wearing all day. And the lunch dates she’d figured were casual, they were just meeting up for lunch and it wasn’t that serious yet. Still just joking about marriage.

But something about getting dinner together, after three dates she genuinely enjoyed, felt like she had to put more effort into how she looked. But how much effort? He didn’t seem the type to dress up too much, but what if he did and she under-dressed? Or she went for it and he showed up in a t-shirt and jeans?

Swearing at the clothes in front of her she finally grabbed something off the hanger and convinced herself it was good enough. As she ran her brush through her hair, she practiced a few lines for her next set in the mirror in attempt to calm herself down.

So far everything with Lewis had been light. Everything was joking around and having a good time, getting to know one another while slagging each other off. Somewhere in there she realized how much she was actually enjoying being around him. And part of her wanted it to be deeper.

Her door bell rings, pulling her from her thoughts as she grabs her things and heads toward the door. Swinging it open reveals Lewis standing on her doorstep with flowers in hand.

“I, thought maybe you'd like flowers?” he asks hesitantly offering them toward her. “If not I’ll chuck them in the bush and we can pretend this part never happened.”

“How uncharacteristically sweet of you,” she teases but accepts them from him. “Come on in, I’ll find something to put them in.”

Following her into her apartment, he looks around the room as she rummages through a drawer in the kitchen. “Nice place,” he comments as he looks at pictures hanging on the wall.

“Thanks,” she shouts back, finally finding something suitable and filling it with water. “Where’d you want to go to eat?”

“Uh, I heard about an Italian place nearby maybe?” he offers as he goes to stand in the entryway of her kitchen.

“Works for me,” she answers, finally setting the vase of flowers on her window sill.

As she turns back toward him, Lewis clears his throat, “You look, really nice by the way.”

Stepping closer to him, she reaches up to lightly squeeze one of his blushing cheeks, “You look pretty handsome yourself, I thought you only owned hoodies.”

“Thought I’d make an effort to look a bit nicer for you tonight,” he teases back as they head out the door toward his car.

The dinner went well, though the wine might have helped calm her down a bit. Being around him was comfortable. He had that ease about him. At some point during the dinner she’d suggested seeing a movie, and that’s how they ended up at some action movie she wasn’t sure either of them were really all that into.

Admittedly she spent more time during the movie overthinking about what him holding her hand meant, than actually paying attention to the plot line.

Heading out to the parking lot they joked about the movie lightheartedly before growing silent as they reached his car. Neither seemingly ready to head back home.

“There’s this place not too far we could go hang out,” she suggests.

“Sure that works for me,” he nods and they get into the car, “So where is this place?”

“Ok this is going to sound sketchy, but just trust me,” she clarifies as she puts the location on the GPS in his phone. “It’s just a field past some wooded areas I used to go hang out at as a teenager.”

“Is that where you’re going to harvest my organs?” he asked with a raised eyebrow as he glances at the GPS.

“If that was the plan I’d not have gone on this many dates with you Lewis, too many witnesses and too much work,” she jokes.

“That wasn’t a no,” he responds as he follows the directions to the location.

“You’re supposed to be my betrothed, and you don’t trust me?” She says in a mock sad voice.

Somehow between the movie theater parking lot and their destination, she found her hand resting on his leg. Neither seemingly wanting to move it, she contented herself with rubbing small circles on his thigh as he drove and they chatted about nothing in particular.

She’d found a pair of discarded sunglasses and put them on at some point, ignoring the fact it was far too dark to see efficiently with them.

“We make sacrifices for the sake of good sunglasses,” he joked nodding approvingly at her choice. “Fuck the sun, look class all the time.”

As they finally reached the place, she shifted the sunglasses up to her forehead and directed him to parked in the center of the field, “Want to get out and stargaze?”

He shrugs, “Sure, I’ll get some music playing.”

Y/N gets out of the car, leaving the sunglasses on the dash, and walks to the front of his car and crawls up on the hood. Behind her Lewis rolls the windows down, and gets out closing the door before reaching through the window to select a radio station and turn the car off.

“Oh, none of your music to play?” she questions as he crawls up on the hood next to her.

“Unfortunately, I don't have my own radio station or record at this point darling,” he responds lightly flicking her forehead.

“Yet,” she comments, laying back to look at the sky.

“Oh?” he comments, laying back beside her. “You believe in me huh?”

“I don’t marry losers Lewis,” she says with a wink toward him, a smile spreading across his face. “Seriously though, you’ve got a great voice, you keep pushing and you’ll make it.”

“Glad you think so,” he replies before they go silent.

After a few minutes of looking up at the stars in the sky, they start telling each other various stories from their childhoods and teen years. At some point she’d found herself flush up against his body, with his arm around her as her head rested on his shoulder.

“How’d you get into comedy?” he asked as he pushed some loose hair from her face.

“When you’re a sarcastic smart-ass you either need to learn to suppress it or harness it,” she says with a grin. “I chose the later.”

“This sounds like a ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ moment,” he chuckles.

“Nah fuck that, it’s a super villain story,” she adds. “But nah.. that’s true, but I just found I liked making people laugh. I can’t say I just discovered a talent and wanted to run with it. I just enjoyed the laughs and smiles on faces. When I was young I just liked the attention, the older I got, I liked being able to just say something that could bring someone’s spirits up. And comedy seemed like something that used what I’m good at, to bring some happiness to peoples lives even if it was just for a half hour set. Sometimes we all just need a moment to forget about all the shit going on in our lives and just laugh. Not much of an origin story, class clown realized she liked making people happy.”

“I think that was the most sincere thing I’ve heard you say since I’ve met you,” he murmurs, holding her closer to his body. “I feel the same way. I love music, and it’s the only thing I could see myself doing because it’s how I enjoy spending my time. But my favorite part is when people tell me after a show how much something I wrote helped them, or just made them happy. People just coming out to listen to me. There’s something fantastic in doing what you love and getting to make a few people happy along the way.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Y/N lifts their joined hands to motion vaguely at the sky, “Just noticed Orion is right there.”

“You ever do this sort of thing before?” he asks as he tears his gaze from the sky to look toward her.

“Are you asking if I’ve ever looked at the stars before or if I’ve brought someone else here before?” she says in a teasing tone. “Jealousy I detect?”

“Maybe,” he chuckles. “I suppose both to answer your question.”

“I’ve always come out here alone,” she admits looking toward his face. “At night to just relax, and during the day sometimes to write. It’s removed enough from everything to just be alone to the world, but close enough that as a teen I could be back before anyone noticed I was gone.”

“Who’d have imagined, you’d be a cheeky one like that.”

“I’m certain I’m not alone on it.”

“In sneaking out to look at the stars yes, in sneaking out being places you shouldn’t be at 2 AM, no.”

“Look at this bad boy we have here,” she laughs.

“The absolute worst,” he replies, propping himself up on his elbow to look at her better. “I.. I’ve been really enjoying our time together.”

“Me too,” she says softly, her eyes locked onto his before flickering down his lips and back up.

Leaning down, he captures her lips in a kiss as she releases his hand to tangle her fingers in his long hair. Pulling him closer, within seconds he’s over top of her as their lips move urgently.

Pelvis to pelvis, with both her hands in his hair, and both his on either side of her head, they finally break apart to take a breath, a laugh passing between the two of them.

Her eyes flicker away from his for a moment, “Shooting star,” she whispers quietly, her arms wrapping around his shoulders.

His head turns to look up at the sky, the light from the stars reflecting off the blue of his eyes as she finds herself unable to look away from him. “You make a wish?” he asks as he looks back down to her.

“Maybe I did,” she says softly before pulling him back down by his shoulders so his forehead is pressed to hers, his hair making a curtain around their faces. “What about you?”

“I’m pretty happy with the present moment,” he admits before pressing his lips to hers once again.

“You going to get out to give me a proper goodbye?” she teases standing in front of the driver side door after their drive back to her place.

“Of course,” he answers, getting out to pull her into an embrace. She settles into him immediately before turning her face up toward his to receive a soft kiss.

“I could get used to this,” she murmurs against the fabric of his shirt, a happy laugh coming from him.

“Well you’re going to have to if you stick to your word,” he teases.

“How far’s your drive?” she asks as her arms squeeze him tighter, not wanting to let go just yet.

“Well,” he mutters, sounding unsure about answering. “It’s about an hour.”

“An hour!?” she exclaims, pulling back from him to look at the sheepish look on his face. “You’re shittin’ me right?”

“It’s alright, not that bad,” he shrugs.

“Why didn’t you tell me before? I wouldn’t have suggested the movie or the field, you could have gone home hours ago. It’s like…” she lets go of him to pull her phone out and look at the time. “Lewis it’s 1 AM.”

“We’d just been having lunch dates so it wasn’t a big deal,” he says. “Had plenty of time to get back. You wanted dinner tonight so I was fine with doing the drive late.”

“But we could have come back hours ago so you wouldn’t be this late,” she argues.

“I didn't want to go then,” he answers simply. “I wanted to watch the movie with you, I wanted to go out to the field. I don’t mind getting back late.”

“Lewis that’s stupid, you should have said something,” she huffs before looking toward her house. “Alright turn your car off and get your ass inside, you’re staying here tonight.”

“I- wait what?” he asks astonished. “Staying with you?”

“I’m not letting you drive an hour back home this late, I have a spare bedroom you can you take,” she answers heading toward the door.

“Oh, ok,” he replies still sounding surprised. Getting into his car quickly, he shuts it off then slams the door shut to head into her apartment.

After he makes it through the door, she locks it behind him and beckons him in toward the spare room. Flipping the light on she rummages through the closet to pull out a towel for him. “I don’t think I have anything that’ll be your size, but if you want to shower and at least wash your shirt or something the washer is in the closet in the hall.”

“I usually just sleep in my pants, rest of my clothes should be fine for tomorrow,” he replies, running his hand through his hair awkwardly.

“Bathroom is at the end of the hall on the left, my room on the right. You know where the kitchen is,” she rattles off as she heads back toward the door of the room. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Quickly shutting the bedroom door behind her, she rushes to her bedroom to get changed, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She knew if she’d stayed a second longer in there she’d have just had him get in her bed. And she wasn’t sure if they were there yet. Maybe they were. Maybe they weren’t. Being rejected wasn’t how she wanted to end what had been a good night.

After getting changed, she cracked her door open in case he needed her, and flipped her lights off before crawling into bed.

It was odd she realized. It wasn’t like this was the only time she’d ever brought a man here. But it was definitely the first that she’d made one spend the night in her spare bedroom. Though she’d known most of them longer than she’d known Lewis. Yet… could she say she had the same butterflies he had her feeling? Probably not.

Frustrated, she hugged her pillow to her chest and closed her eyes in an attempt to sleep.

After a few minutes, she hears the door to spare bedroom open, and footsteps coming down the hall. He reached the bathroom, obviously trying to be quiet, but knocked something over in the process as she hears a curse come from the room.

Laughing under her breath she opens her eyes to stare at the blank ceiling above her. After what felt like an eternity, which in reality was probably only five minutes, the bathroom door swings back open, spilling the light into the entrance of her bedroom.

“Lewis?” she calls out before she can stop herself, mentally cursing as she sees him hesitantly lean into the room.

“Everything ok?” he asks.

“No, get in here,” she hisses, sitting up to look at him.

“Wait what?” he hesitates, most of his body still behind the door.

She sighs and runs her hands over her face, “I want you to come sleep in my bed with me Lewis, if that’s not something you want, you can just go back to the other bedroom and we’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I, uh, I don’t mind,” he answers letting go of the door. “But I’m already in my pants, if that’s a problem.”

“Nah, just don’t try anything, I’m tired,” she jokes as she slides back under the sheets.

Stepping into the room, he closes the door behind him before heading over to the other side of the bed and sliding in next to her.

Almost immediately she leans into his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. Laying her head against him she sighs happily as he chuckles.

“Just wanted a little cuddle huh?” he asks as he settles in.

“Mhm,” she hums back. “I’m not sick of you yet.”

“Are we… serious?” he asks gently as he rests his head on hers.

“I’d say betrothed is serious,” she jokes.

“Yeah I know, but that’s been a joke,” he insists. “I just… want to know if this is serious for you.”

“Is it serious for you?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s serious for me, you’re mine then,” she mumbles, feeling the sleep already starting to take over as she enjoys his warmth.

“I guess so,” he says lifting his head to press a kiss to her forehead. “Sweet dreams hun.”

-----

PART 1

Masterlist

Request List

#lewis capaldi #lewis capaldi x reader #lewiscapaldi #lewis capaldi imagines #divinely uninspired to a hellish extent #our chaotic life #fanfiction #celebrity imagines #someone you loved

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jeonggukookies · 5 years ago

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too young || two

summary: after forgetting to pick up his daughter, single parent jungkook proves he’s a good parent on your birthday.

word count: 2,027

genre: parent!au, single dad!jungkook fluff/slow burn

one || two

“Can you help me with homework?” Jungkook’s daughter, Jules asked as you were typing an email about a staff meeting. You looked at her and saw she was biting the tip of her purple pencil eraser. “I need help.”

“Of course.” You were right next to her and looked down at her sheet of paper. Her assignment was learning how to spell the pictures that were being shown. “Which one do you need help with?”

“This one.” She pointed at the picture of the yellow flowers. “I have to spell it, but they’re just flowers. I don’t get why there’s two blanks.”

“Well, there’s more than one, right?” She nodded, still biting the tip of her eraser. “What do we do to the word if there’s more than one?”

“Add an s,” she replied.

“Right, so that makes it flowers, and I think flowers fit in the second blank because there’s seven letters.” She smiled and started writing on the paper. “Do you notice anything else about the flowers?”

“They’re ugly.” You scoffed at her comment and bit your lower lip to prevent anymore noises to come out of your mouth. “But that’s only four letters. It has to be six.”

“What else have you learned in class?” You asked.

“You just learned colors, remember?” You turned around and see Jungkook in another black suit. He was leaning against your office door, with golden star balloons in his right hand. “Hi.”

“New record, you’re only twenty minutes late,” you quipped. There was slight annoyance in your voice, but you were glad he was doing a better job at picking up his daughter on time now. “Let’s try to make it to ten next time.” He chuckled, having a small smile on his face. “Everything going okay, kiddo?”

Jules had started packing up, putting all her papers into one red folder. She zipped her purple backpack, got off the chair and ran towards Jungkook with her backpack in her hands. “I’m happy! Are we going to get chicken feet?”

“Anything you want,” he said. “Did you thank Y/N for her help?”

“Thank you, miss! Do you want to come with us? We’re having chicken feet for my birthday!” She said with the biggest smile on her face. “Is that okay, Jungkook?”

His mouth was slightly parted, not knowing what to say. He blinked and looked at you, shrugging his shoulders. “Is that okay with you?”

“Maybe next time,” you lied. There was nothing morally wrong with going out with them, but you felt uncomfortable spending time with her and Jungkook outside of school. “I have some work to do for tomorrow.” ____

You ended up sitting across from Jules as her and Jungkook sat on the other side of the booth. They were out of the clothes you saw them in earlier. Jules undid her braid, making her have wavy hair and was wearing a pink sweatshirt with a tiara on her head. Jungkook was out of his suit and was now wearing a navy blue button up with a purple party hat on his head. They were both enjoying spicy chicken feet while you were eating bulgogi.

Somehow, your favorite restaurant had to be full, and there were no tables for you to eat alone. And of course, somehow, Jungkook and Jules happened to be there to celebrate her birthday, so they offered you to sit down with them.

“Thank you for this.” You covered your month as you finished chewing. “It means a lot. I’m sorry if I’m intruding now.”

“Is that your favorite food?” Jules asked with her mouth full, almost being incomprehensible. You smiled and nodded at her. “I like that too!”

“Did you get your work done?” Jungkook asked. “It seemed like you left like five minutes after us.”

“Yes.”

“That’s great.” He picked up a chicken feet with his chopsticks. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you.”

“The same for you,” you said. “Do you always go out to eat here for Jules’s birthday?”

“Well, last year we spent it with my cousins, and that was a big mistake,” Jules answered which made you and Jungkook laugh. “Too many people. I hated it. There was too much noise.”

“We have a big family,” he explained. “Already, she has six uncles and that’s not including their wives and kids, you know?”

You wondered why both Jules and Jungkook word things the way they do. He doesn’t say he has six brothers or family friends, but instead said Jules has six uncles. She doesn’t call Jungkook Dad, but will rather call him by his first name. They don’t mention anything about Jules’s mother either.

“Jungkook!” Jules pulled on his sleeve and pointed ahead. Her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree. “The guy left the piano! Can you go play and sing? I want to hear a song!”

“You sing?” You questioned with a small smile on your face. “I didn’t expect that.”

“No, I don’t.” He nervously chuckled as he carefully took Jules’s tiny hand off his sleeve. “I wouldn’t call it that either. I never sing.”

“What are you talking about?” Jules raised her eyebrows and tilt her head slightly. “You’re a songwriter! Of course, you sing all the time! You sing when you’re cooking, cleaning, driving, writing, getting ready and every day when you do my hair and before I go to bed.”

Although he couldn’t pick up his daughter on time, you regret thinking that he was a bad parent. You didn’t know what happened behind closed doors after school. You didn’t imagine he would somehow know all these kinds braids and then learn how to sing to her at night. You didn’t imagine him knowing what she learned in class and didn’t think he would take her out to a fancy birthday dinner.

“I’ll sing to you tonight, okay?” Jules groaned and had a pouty look on her face, making you laugh once again. “I promise.”

“You’re a songwriter?” You asked.

“And you’re a teacher,” he deadpanned, causing you to roll your eyes. He smiled and let out a small sigh. “I was an executive producer, but I stepped down to this position.”

“Do you miss it?” You remember how he talked about how he loved his job, but in order to keep Jules happy, he made the sacrificed doing something else.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Perhaps, he was recalling the memories and the feeling of his job before or perhaps, he was comparing which jobs was harder and easier. In a small voice, he said, “I think I’ll always long for it.”

Before you could ask anything else, the waiter comes to your table with the black check book. You were going to reach into your purse and pay for the whole thing, but Jungkook beat you to it. He placed a few bills onto the table as a tip, grabbed the book, stood up, mouthed, ‘Don’t worry about it’ and followed the waiter.

“What a show off!” Jules scoffed and crossed her arms. ____

Your night with Jungkook continued as your car didn’t start and you had to call a tow truck to get your car. “I’m really sorry again.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” You were in the passenger seat of his grey SUV. You were glad that he wasn’t that parent who had some kind of sports car that was unsafe for kids. “I don’t mind really. I’m just going to drop off Jules first, so she can sleep in her bed.”

Looking behind, you saw Jules cuddling with her fluffy white blanket that had dogs with Christmas hats on it. She was trying her best to not fall asleep, but her eyes kept shutting so often. “You’re going to leave her by herself?”

“Oh no.” He took a quick look at you before looking back onto the road ahead of him. “Before I got into the car, I texted Danielle to come over and look after her when I drop you off.”

“Oh.” You nodded acting as if you knew who she was.

“She’s Jin’s older daughter,” he clarified, making your confusion go away. “She lives down the street from us.”

Again, he didn’t say Jin’s family lived down the street, but said Jin’s daughter lived down the street. “She doesn’t live with him?” You were being nosy, and you hated it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be-”

“Invasive?” He suggested.

Your jaw dropped and released a scoffed. “I was going to say intrusive.”

“It’s fine.” He laughed. “It’s nothing serious. She moved in with her friends to be closer to her university.”

The car finally pulled into a driveway. The house was very modern and fancy that you could not believe your eyes. It seemed like both the house and car was probably five times worth more than your annual salary. “Jules used to live closer until recently.” “Wow.” You stared out. “You two live here?”

“That hard to believe?” He joked and then beckoned the girl outside with brown hair and blue jeans overalls to come over.

“You are such a show off,” Jules mumbled as her face was resting against the glass window. She was startled once the automatic door started to open. Her eyes widen as she saw the girl that came over. “Dani!”

“Hi kiddo,” she said as she unbuckled the seat belt of Jules’s carseat. Once the seat belt was off, Jules jumped into her arms. “Let’s go inside.”

“Are you still going to sing to me, Kook?” Jules asked.

“Of course. I’ll be back very soon,” he promised her.

“Bye Jungkook! Bye miss!” Dani had a confused look on her face when she heard the second goodbye from Jules. She then gasped once she saw you in the passenger seat. She winked at you and then at Jungkook before pressing the button to close the back door.

“I’m sorry about Dani,” he immediately apologized right as the door closed. He pulled up his GPS, and you tapped the screen to put your address in. “I don’t think she’s seen me with any person, but Jules.”

“That’s totally fine.” You shrugged as he started driving. “I get it.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why were you alone tonight?” He gave you another look, waiting for your answer. “A lot of people usually don’t eat alone, especially on their birthday.”

You were taken back by his comment. He looked back at the road and told you that Jules mentioned that you and her had shared the same birthday. He didn’t think you would want to be by yourself.

“To be frank, I haven’t made any friends yet, and I’m still new town,” you said. “I really liked that restaurant and didn’t have a problem eating alone until it got full tonight. So thank you for inviting me to your table. It means a lot.”

“Yeah, of course.” The rest of the car ride was just pure silence. To you, it wasn’t the silence that was awkward, but it was a silence that made you feel comfortable. There was no need to talk or to make conversation. It felt like everything was fine on its own.

“Thank you for dropping me off.” Unlike Jungkook, you lived in an affordable apartment building nearby the school.

“Do you want me to walk you to your door?” He asked, ready to take off his seat belt for you.

“Oh no, that’s okay.” You felt your heart skip a beat. You awkwardly let out a laugh. “I can just walk to the door myself. There’s no need for you to get out and then get back in.”

“I just don’t want you to be suddenly taken away before you could reach the front doors,” he joked again. You shook your head and laughed. “Thank you for taking care of Jules.”

“Is this my birthday present? You finally picking her up on time?”

“You’re funny.” He turned his head to look at you. His brown eyes met yours, and the silence was back. The only thing that was heard was your heart suddenly beating. “Goodnight. Happy birthday.”

#bangtanwriters-net #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook scenarios #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #too young

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alittleyellowdinosaur · 5 years ago

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Bread Baking For Beginners: Tips and Tricks

As part of @homesteadchronicles QuaranTEAM thing, I’m hoping to post a bit of a series on bread baking, to hopefully show you all that it’s actually... not that hard. I don’t know where the idea that baking your own bread is some luxury thing that only highly skilled professionals can do, but it’s a lie! Anyone can bake bread! Even if you are a busy person, you can bake bread, because most of the time the bread is rising and you can do anything else. If I can bake bread weekly in college with a full course load, you can too.

We’ll be starting off with some basic tricks and advice that’ll apply to all bread recipes regardless of type. I’ll also touch on some of the science of bread, aka the Why of what you do these things, and clarify some of the vocabulary. AKA this is going to get long. Let’s go!

Making The Dough

First things first, you’ve got to make the dough, which is fairly easy. But, here are some good tips to keep in mind.

Buy your yeast in a jar. They are like $6, and will last you a long while. Keep the yeast in the fridge, and it will be good for months. Most recipes ask for a packet of yeast, which is about 2 1/2 teaspoons! (A note - you can make your own yeast and cut that cost, but we won’t get into that since this is for beginners)

Start your yeast before adding the rest of the ingredients. Use warm (NOT boiling) water or milk, add the yeast and any sugar the recipe calls for, and let it sit for about 5 minutes, or until you see foam (It looks a bit like sea foam for reference).

Keep salt separate from direct contact with the yeast. I usually put the flour in first, then add the salt and any butter or eggs asked for on top of that. Salt will kill the yeast that you just spent time getting all happy, which we don’t want!

If you have a stand mixer, use a dough hook (the one that looks like Captain Hook’s hand). If you don’t have a stand mixer, use your hands, not an electric mixer or wooden spoon. Spatulas and wooden spoons just make it harder, and a hand mixer will clog in seconds.

Kneading

It seems to me that, other than time, kneading is the biggest concern beginner bread makers have, but it’s not a nightmare. Now, the reason you knead bread isn’t actually because of the yeast, but because you want to build up the gluten strands. This is why bead pulls apart all nice and has that tension when you pull that you expect (whereas cakes and pastry crumbles, because you don’t build up gluten). It seems complicated, but it actually isn’t at all, especially if you have a stand mixer.

If you have a stand mixer, just let the thing run for about 5 minutes and that’s it.

If you don’t and have to knead by hand, there’s a bunch of techniques. The one I use is to take the lump of dough, stretch it out with the base of my palm, roll it back up, turn it to the side, so the now longer side from rolling it is pointing away from me, stretch it again, and repeat. I recommend this method for beginners.

If you have to hand mix it, then keep this in mind - If you added olive oil, use OIL to grease your hands and surface. If you did NOT add olive oil (or another type of oil) then use FLOUR. This has to do with whether a dough is enriched (has eggs, butter, or milk) or standard (no eggs, milk, or butter). Just in general, don’t use anything to knead that you haven’t already added in.

You should need for about 5 - 10 minutes as a general rule of thumb, but there are a few ways to check that it’s read to prove.

The Window Pane Test - This is a test to make sure you’ve built up enough gluten. Stretch a chunk of dough between your thumbs and pointer fingers. If you can stretch it so you can see light through it, without the dough breaking, then you’ve got enough gluten. This test isn’t a be all end all - if you stop kneading before it passes the test, then you’re bread won’t automatically suck, it’s just a good way to double check it’s just right.

The dough looks smooth. Dough goes through a lot of stages when making bread. When you first start mixing, it tends to look weird, all separated and nasty. Once it’s mixed into a dough, it’s lumpy and sticky. Once it’s properly kneaded, the dough will look smooth and won’t stick to your hands or the bowl, which is what you want

If you press your finger into it, and it bounces back, that’s another good sign.

Proving

Ahh the easiest part of baking bread. The leave it in the corner and do something else phase. Proving bread allows the yeast to work it’s magic and grow, giving bread those beautiful air bubbles that make the texture so light and perfect. You almost always will have two proves, the first one when it’s in ball form, the second after you’ve shaped the thing. Between the first and second prove, though, always punch down your dough before shaping it. “But Elliot,” you say, “I just got all those air bubbles in there! Why would I get rid of them? You just said we need them!” Right you are. But punching down the dough allows it to have structure. Doughs that don’t get punched down tend to spread out all over the place and be a bit of a mess, and if you don’t punch it down then shaping it gets difficult. So just give the thing a few wallops before making it into it’s final shape.

The timing of the proves varies per recipe but in general, about 45-60 minutes for a first prove, and 30 or so minutes for a second is usually good. This WILL vary depending on the type of bread you are making. If you’ve added eggs, butter, or milk (an enriched bread remember), it will need a longer prove, since those slow down the rise of the yeast (we call it retarding the yeast), if you are making a bread that needs bigger air bubbles, like ciabatta, you’ll probably need longer too, stuff like that. So follow your recipe! Just a couple of tips for the best proves -

Let the bread prove in a warm spot. This makes the yeast happy, happy!

Cover the dough while proving, either with a plastic bag, ceran wrap, or if nothing else is available, a slightly damp towel. Covering the dough keeps a crust from forming, which will hinder the prove.

Shaping and Baking

This is all fairly explanatory stuff that relies mostly on the recipe and type of bread you’re making, but I wanted to touch on it briefly. Namely, it’s okay if the bread looks ugly. Trust me, most of my baking looks like crap. But it all tastes good, and that’s what matters. If you do want perfect looking bread, here’s a few tips

Use a wash. There are three types of washes - Egg white, egg with milk, and milk. Egg washes will give a darker color to the bread and make them nice and shiny, and milk washes make them soft, which is useful when making burger buns or other dinner rolls.

If you want a nice crust, use steam with an egg wash. Steam creates that beautiful, crunchy crust. Professional bread ovens have a steam injector, but you can create the same affect by putting a pan with sides in the oven as it’s preheating, and then pouring cold water in as you put in the bread. Just remember to keep the door closed until it’s ready to come out!

Remember that the bread will rise a bit more in the oven. The heat will give the yeast one final burst of action before it dies, so don’t be surprised if your nicely shaped cinnamon rolls suddenly start overflowing the pan and become truly massive (which has happened to me). This can also be good to know with the second prove - if the bread/rolls/whatever starts looking big during the second prove, even if it’s only been 15 minutes, throw the thing in the oven because it will get massive. Once you put bread in the oven, it’s all in the hands of the gods.

Slice the bread once it’s cooled if you want precise, clean cuts like for sandwich bread. If you don’t, eat it warm with butter and experience the beauty that is freshly baked bread.

In Conclusion...

I really hope that these tips can help you start baking bread with a bit more confidence. It is possible, and it’s really not all that hard. You could ignore 99% of these tips and your bread would probably be just fine as long as you kneaded it at least a little (unless it’s no knead bread!) and proved it. Bread is not inaccessible. It’s not something that only the most AestheticTM of Cottagecore people can do. You could do it. Yes you, and you could save a shit ton of money doing it! One bag of flour can make six loaves of sandwich bread, and a jar of yeast lasts months, so overall cost is so much lower long term. Plus, it’s really hard to stress about quarantine with fresh baked bread and butter, all I’m saying here. Hopefully the first recipe, a basic sandwich bread, will be up by the weekend, and I’ll reblog the other recipes I’ve posted in between then. Happy baking!

#homesteadquaranteam #quaranteam #baking #bread #bread baking #cottagecore #my recipes #recipes #bread making #bakers

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milas-imaginarium · 5 years ago

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The kindest thing

Language: English

Rate: G

Pairing: Lancelot Kingsley x MC

Note: @styletters there you go dear. I proofread this but it may contain mistakes, sorry in advance, this is long as hell.

Should I create a masterlist? I have not too much writings after all. I hope you like it.

Her eyes opened in slow motion as her lashes fluttered heavily, the bright sun blinded her for a second but shortly she was able to look where she was.

"Young Lady, are you okay?" she didn't recognize the pleasing voice but the tone of it soothed her, seconds after she realized her body was resting peacefully on a stretcher, no pain, no blood.

"Where I'm?" the girl uttered lighter than usual, her eyes finally focused on the person taking care of her; a doctor from the red army. He was not Kyle, he seemed older. A prick of worry made her head spin.

"I see, you don't remember anything" what was that man talking about? She tried to sit down but the red-haired doctor didn't allow her "I'll tell you everything but please stay still" what happened? Thousand of possibilities crossed her mind as her heart raced almost jumping out of her chest.

"Last night a soldier found you on the royal garden. You were unconscious but using a gown also a tiara so we assume you're from a royal family out of this country" the doctor kept quiet for a moment trying to find the words to clarify the situation avoiding a panic state "What we don't understand is why you're here. His majesty asked me to take good care of you."

Lancelot was the king, Lancelot Kingsley was her fiancé, why the impersonal behavior? "I don't know what happened to you young lady, but the red army is going to help you as much as we can" and then it hit her as a fiery wave "Oh, no..." her hands encased her face "Please let me see the king. I beg you."

Her legs were shaking as her stomach felt sick. It couldn't be and the only way to prove her suspicions was to see the king, however a bad feeling crept in her mind. The mere idea of something like this happening was ridiculous but not impossible...Oliveira guessed.

°°°

It was the celebration of the "Stargazing" festival in Cradle, as the two armies signed a truce the festival felt different. Happiness and peace were floating around the citizens and authorities, it was a dream to assist to a festival in her new home one week before the wedding, but something was off.

"I see, Oliveira" the Queen of spades spoke solemnly when the bride to be concluded the story. Last night she showed Lancelot a picture of himself in his childhood sleeping peacefully, the picture was inside a book in the old part of the library. Lancelot was taken aback and avoided the topic, his blue eyes full of sorrow "Lance was a lonely kid. He was born to fulfill his place as the future king. I shouldn't be telling you this, Lance sooner than you think will be ready to tell you by himself, after all, a man can't keep secrets from his wife"

"Having fun without me?" a deep voice made both, Queen and bride to be, turning around their heads only to find Lancelot looking sober. Oliveira smiled subtly, that's the face of a jealous King "Never. I see you around, Mrs. Kingsley."

As Sirius walked away smiling nonchalantly Lancelot spoke: "I admit it sounded good, isn't it?" the young lady nodded embracing herself to her lover's chest "I love you, Mrs. Kingsley. Let's go...we need to initiate the festival." with a kiss on his fiancee's forehead both went to the dancefloor, as the official royal couple they were in charge of the first dance. Everything was unreal except for the awkward sensation in her chest, she would never forget the baby boy in the photo living a life where loneliness was constant.

After dancing and eating all kind of typical Cradle's food people was ready to make their wishes. Every two years the festival was celebrated thanks to a meteor shower, as Cradle was a magical country people kept the tradition to ask favors to the stars, that's what the festival was about.

"I want to make Lancelot happy in all the stages of his life, I want to fill his heart with joy and his days with light"

°°°

"This must be a dream" Oliveira murmured while marching behind a guard, the King was ready to talk to her.

"After lunch, you'll attend the second part of your classes, Prince Lancelot" the woman stood silently, her desperate eyes looking for Lancelot and there he was, a six or seven years old boy, blue eyes, messy blond hair, the expression she knew so well. The floor melted under her feet, it was too real to be a dream.

"Are you okay, Lady?" the guard questioned giving her a confused gaze "The king is waiting for you" Lancelot and his instructors walked down the hall until his small figure disappeared, there was no need to see the king...But still, it was inevitable. Trying to compose herself and not to cry or be in commotion, Oliveira got into the King's office. Being in Cradle for more than a year taught her a lesson: in terms of magic, it was better to let it flow.

"Welcome young Lady. I'm the King of hearts" the man was blond but his eyes were not blue, perhaps Lancelot was more like his mother, though her father-in-law was a handsome mature man. Oliveira lost herself thinking about how Lancelot would look like in his late 40's "The royal doctor told me you don't remember more than your name, I'm deeply sorry for that, however, your tiara indicates you're a royal and you're going to be treated as one until you remember where you belong to."

"Of course it indicates royalty, it's your army's tiara and I'm your son's future wife." Oliveira thought at the same time her hand touched the fine piece of jewelry, they provided another dress for her to be comfortable but the tiara remained in her head "If you're a royal you must use it with pride" said the doctor when she denied to use it with the casual outfit.

The meeting with the King ceased too soon thanks to the Queen of hearts, for god's sake...that man was incredibly gorgeous. "Lady Oliveira, you'll have food and your room. What you do in your free time is up to you, I recommend to rest and try to remember something."

Despite the King's words were polite and almost kind she was not stupid. They considered Oliveira a threat but as they knew the young lady was a royal they had to treat her well enough to avoid a war with another country.

°°°

The next week consisted in her reading every book about magic in the library, nothing related to the "stargazing" festival or even magic to travel through time but something caught her eye "meaningful magic" or magic with purpose, it was the type of natural magic that had a specific purpose, sometimes it was as simple as a coincidence but in other cases, it was powerful and unpredictable, the point behind this kind of magic was to accomplish a mission or objective in the person's life.

Oliveira had to options: to believe in meaningful magic or to forget about her previous life, the answer was easy. What her purpose could be? another easy question. Her eyes darted the library's window, right in the garden a little kid was practicing fencing as disciplined and serious as a grown-up man "Make you happy is my mission, my Prince".

Oliveira decided to go out to take a sunbath and maybe have the chance to get close to the blond Prince that melted her heart; he was cute, pretty as a doll, small, soft, sweet "Do our kids would look like him?"

"Your kids with who, Lady Oliveira?" a feminine voice asked, oh shit. Oliveira tried to form a coherent excuse in her mind, then she remembered her wedding. Grinning she raised her hand and kept on playing the lady with no memory facing Lancelot's mother. Yes, Lancelot resembled her mother, even in that cold expression.

"Mrs. Kingsley" she bowed to show respect "I don't remember more than my name but this ring is an engagement one. I guess someone is waiting for me" it was not a lie, Lancelot was waiting for her, worried as hell but it was better not to think about that, her lover was strong "And I want to have beautiful and talented kids, just like Prince Lancelot, with that person." Lancelot's mother looked at her kid, no changes in her expression.

"I see you're quite fond of my son, I presumed you were plotting against the heir but now I know you're just mesmerized by the idea of having kids." the stunning woman dressed in fine materials spoke again "I'm too busy to pay attention to Lancelot but you have plenty of time, don't you?" with that she parted to an unknown place. The King's wife has duties but how cold-hearted you needed to be to ignore your kid?

That day Oliveira had dinner with Lancelot, it reminded her the first days in Cradle. The conversation didn't flow until she spoke about animals, a little nerd of tigers he was and see him with those big blue eyes shinning was everything "I know you're pretty busy but if you don't mind I would like to accompany you"

"Do as you please, Lady Oliveira" his soft voice echoed into the dining room. Deep down his cold expression, a marvelous heart remained untouched, some things never change.

°°°

Another week had passed and Oliveira was almost Lancelot's nanny. Sure, it was not easy but she handled adult Lancelot, nothing on earth could be more difficult than that. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, the royal chefs where not in charge of his foods anymore, she prepared fun and nutritive meals. Slowly the walls that kept Lancelot isolated from the world started crumbling; by the third day of the week she started reading stories for him before sleep, by the fifth day both were practicing fencing, Jonah's lessons were quite useful and by the seventh day, Lancelot smiled to her kindly.

A smile from the ice prince. It was better than gold, was she making him happy? She missed her old life, she missed her boyfriend, her friends but kid Lancelot...needed to be loved for the time the meaningful magic determined.

"Lady Oliveira, are you going to practice today?" approaching Lancelot was a hard task but his child version was more easy-going than his adult self for obvious reasons.

"Of course, this time I'll win." was it humiliating to lost in front of a kid? Yes, but that kid was incredibly good with the sword, so it was understandable. Nor the King or his wife went to the training field to look for their kid if she needed to think about there were days where Lancelot was left alone with his instructors and maids. If it was painful for her...how painful could it be for a little kid?

After a hard swordplay practice with the prince, she asked for a break while Lancelot glanced at her with that cheeky smile he displayed sometimes "You're mean, you now that? Let me win at least once"

"If I let you win once...how could you learn to be better?" and there he was, Lancelot being Lancelot. It was cute to see him saying serious things being just a baby, Oliveira's heart was under regular attack.

"Touché. I'm going to make your dinner, my dear Prince. Wait for me, okay?" she found herself enjoying cooking for Lancelot back in the past when she attempted to make him eat something. Food is necessary but also could be heart fulfilling. The little Prince fidgeted wanting to say something, his instructor remained quiet as always.

"What is it, Prince Lancelot? Do you want to request a special dish?" Lancelot eluded her sight, his cheeks blushing "Do you mind if I help, Lady Oliveira?"

And that was the beginning of a delightful routine for them, under the astounded eyes of the army staff members Prince Lancelot was smiling again, being the kid he was. His mother paid some visits sometimes and the King checked the prince's training but nothing more, they ignored his other activities and likings.

°°°

"Tomorrow I'll go to town, do you need something Prince Lancelot?" Oliveira said while preparing to read a story that night, Lancelot didn't need anything so shook his head. She has been living in the red army for three weeks, she kept on acting as the lady without memory but anybody seemed to be annoyed by that, it was quite the opposite; the King seemed pleased of how Oliveira treated the Prince.

Taking the big red book in her hands Oliveira noticed something opening her eyes in realization, it was the same book where she found Lancelot's picture. How silly of her not to notice that before. "Is there a problem, Lady Oliveira?"

"No, no prince." she smiled at him with her eyes full of tender love. The boy using red pajamas made himself comfortable.

°°°

Cradle was different from the past or the present or whatever, Oliveira got easily confused with all that time traveling thing, nevertheless, the city remained charming preserving the mystic air that made Cradle...well, Cradle. The real intention behind going to the city was to find a present for the Prince, it was weird not to see toys in a boy's room but it was Lancelot's room after all.

The maids were busy gathering the food for the next week so Oliveira walked by herself around Cradle looking for the perfect present, the options were almost infinite but nothing so special, not at least for her beloved little prince, anyway she was far to give up. Of course, love was so much more than a present but something was true, a simple gift can be like the magic that brought her back in the past: meaningful.

After a whole day in the civic center, she was ready, the gift was perfectly wrapped on a golden box with a huge ribbon on top. Lancelot and Oliveira were the main attraction in the red army headquarters, perhaps soulmates no matter their age, were bright when they were together.

For the bride-to-be, that day felt different, was it the anticipation for Lancelot's gift, or was it something more? however, she shook her head and after a wonderful homemade diner for two, both walked to Lancelot's room where the gift was awaiting over his bed. The expression of his round pretty face was memorable "I hope you like it"

Oliveira expected that adorable expression in his face after seeing the giant albino tiger plush, but never expected the kid's answer was a hug, his eyes were closed as his hair was messier than usual, Oliveira couldn't resist and kneeled before him hugging the little prince too "Did you like it?" Lancelot just nodded, he was warm, soft, and smelled like a baby if that made sense. Time stopped in that instant, nothing else matters than the feelings contained in that innocent hug "Prince Lancelot, you deserve happiness and infinite amounts of love. Never forget that."

Lancelot didn't say anything else before went to bed, his sleepy face showed a smile while his body embraced the fluff copy of Shine. It was love what Oliveira felt for that kid, she wanted to treasure the moment, she wanted to keep in her memory his voice, his smile, the expression when they were together practicing fencing or cooking.

"You don't know how much I love you, my little Prince. You're the kindest thing that ever happened to me."

That night Oliveira slept thinking about Lancelot, the prince, the king, the lonely man, the serious kid, the shattered person, her lover, her world, her reason to be strong, her reason to give it all to immerse him in eternal love.

°°°

"She's waking up! Call the King" her eyelids were heavy and she recognized the feeling back when she traveled to the past, was everything all right? "Oliveira, are you okay? Do you feel good?"

"K-Kyle?" There, looking at her with a worried expression was the royal doctor, her friend "What happened?" the dizziness in her head made everything blurry.

"You fainted after the dance with Lance. Have you been overworking yourself again?" Oliveira shooked her head slowly, she was in a strange house resting in a comfortable bed. Her dress the same she was using in the festival "I came back..." the girl murmured closing her eyes again just to see a perfect picture of Prince Lancelot.

"Was everything a dream?" She thought with a hefty sigh.

"Yes, that's it. You came back and Lance will be happy. The poor man almost faint with you..." Kyle said with a relaxed smile. When Oliveira fell unconscious Lancelot was startled, a citizen offered her house for Kyle to check on the girl, there was no explanation, perhaps Oliveira was just tired or her corset was too tight.

"Kyle..."

The young doctor stopped in his tracks when Lancelot spoke, the King's eyes full of expectation "Fine, fine...I'll leave you two alone. Don't overwhelm her, Lance." He just remained quiet and approached to his fiancee in a graceful motion, his slender cold fingers traced a line in Oliveira's jaw until reaching her soft hair, Lancelot took a seat close to her "How are you fee-" Oliveira interrupted him with a needy kiss "I'm okay my love, don't worry...Don't worry".

°°°

It was dreamlike, all eyes were on them waiting for the great King of hearts' vows. It seemed like he couldn't believe his eyes, Lancelot Kingsley getting married. Oliveira's knees were shaking slightly and her eyes were on the verge of dropping tears, both holding hands.

Never in his wildest dreams something like that happened, was it reality or mere fantasy? Oliveira smiled containing her tears of happiness, Lancelot cleared his voice and the words emerged almost like a love song.

"You're the kindest thing that ever happened to me. Now my lips have your taste in them, my skin has your caress tattoed and my heart beats at your voice's tempo.

You're like the rain on a drought, rain falling over buds making them flourish. Oliveira, I promise to make you immortal in the land of my memory if you love me until my last breath."

And that was all, Oliveira was crying gracefully during the rest of the ceremony, luckily for her, the makeup was waterproof. The exchange of rings took place and a round of applause filled the church.

"You can kiss your wife, King Lancelot." and he did so as if that kiss was his last.

"Cheers for the couple", "Congratulations King", "Take care of Alice", "Have a life full of happiness", "We're expecting a little prince soon", "Don't let him go, Oliveira".

People from both armies were happy, the day was full of light and love "I'll make you happy forever, my King." Oliveira said walking hand to hand going right to the wedding party.

°°°

In the silence of the night the couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley made it to their shared bedroom. Lancelot left the room to prepare the bath, the plan was to relax taking a long romantic bath together and getting ready...For the wedding night.

Oliveira crossed the room after seeing the red big book over the nightstand "was it a dream?" she bit her lip opening the book to see the beautiful picture inside, Lancelot and his plush. Delicately she took the picture in her hand but then the picture fell off to the floor on its backside.

"You're the kindest thing that ever happened to him" Was written in perfect cursive handwriting. Oliveira took the photo in her hands wondering who would have written that.

"Is everything all right Oliveira?" asked Lancelot before running to hug his wife from the back "Oh, the picture. That's my father's handwriting" Lancelot paused "My childhood was not perfect, I hardly remember my mother or father being there for me...but this picture is special." He was opening to her, Sirius was right "I don't even remind her face or her name...but a Lady gave that plush to me, for the first time someone loved me, showed me a hint of what happiness is."

"Lance..." and more tears rolled down Oliveira's face before a gentle warm kiss took place "Don't cry my love," said the King of hearts "Come with me, I'll make you...cry for a different reason" using an insinuating tone Lancelot undressed his wife caressing her naked figure and downing her mouth with wet kisses. It was just the beginning of a life together.

#Lancelot Kingsley #king of hearts #Ikemen #Ikemen fanfic #Ikerev #ikemen revolution #Ikerev lancelot #Lancelot x MC

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squidbatts · 5 years ago

Text

(he got) the wrong lovers

Caroline kneels and runs her hand over a happy blue hen. She lets herself enjoy how the chickens shake their feathers as she strokes them and the low contented coos they make.

The Farmer returns, offering Caroline a hand. “I’m sure the girls are enjoying your attention, but you’re mine tonight.”

or: caroline gets a dinner invitation from the kind farmer down the way

((hi sdv fans! i’m sorry that my first fic for this fandom is going to be a player/caroline fic with a bittersweet ending, but sometimes It’s Just Like That. there’s a little infidelity, because Obviously, but really and truly this is mostly pre-slash and caroline being conflicted and confused. please enjoy i guess???))

{ao3}

When the letter comes to the house, Caroline is shocked. All of their mail is usually for Pierre, supply forms or Head of Household things, or for Abby, her little magic magazines or a video game she’s ordered from the city; Caroline can’t remember the last time a piece of mail that wasn’t spam came in for her.

“What’s in the mail, dear?” Pierre asks as Caroline brings the whole stack into the kitchen. She sighs when she sees that he’s already begun eating, despite how she had asked him to wait for Abby. He has to open the shop, Caroline knows that, but he can’t wait five minutes to have a family breakfast?

“I got a letter,” She says, then flushes at how excited her voice sounds, like she’s a child on Feast day. “It’s from the Farmer.”

Pierre hums, disinterested. “Anything for me?”

“Ah, yes, sorry. A seed order form for next season.” She hands the booklet over and Pierre is easily absorbed by both it and his breakfast. Caroline doesn’t sigh, not aloud, but she does allow her shoulders to rise and fall before she leaves the room to remind Abby to come eat. It’s not like Pierre is looking at her anyway.

She doesn’t open the letter until later, after the store’s opened and after Abby’s left for the Museum, not because she’s ashamed or because it’s a secret but because it just seems like it’s something she should do alone. Like it’s private. She’s sent the Farmer letters before, with recipes and tips, but the Farmer’s always seemed the type to prefer face-to-face communication and she’s certainly never heard of anyone else getting anything in the mail from them.

Caroline, the letter reads, ink dark and deliberate but still a bit messy, letters flowing into each other in a half-cursive script like the Farmer’s hand couldn’t keep up with their thoughts, Sorry I can’t ask you in person, doing some stuff on the farm, but would you like to come over today at 5? It’s okay if you can’t, I’m just making a new recipe and wanted you to try it first.

Caroline reads the letter twice more before refolding it and tapping it against the countertop, thinking. Tonight… Well, tonight was going to be like any night: she’d cook and eat dinner, have some tea and read a book, try to get Abby to take her online classes seriously or wear something with a bit more color or stop doing all that occult nonsense or something. The only blip in her monotonous life is what topic she and Abby argue about -- that, and the Farmer’s visits, recently. There’s a part of her that wants to cling to that which is comfortable and routine but the more Caroline thinks about it, the more appealing it seems; she hasn’t had someone cook for her in a long while, and she’s never been out to the farm. Besides, she and the Farmer are friends now, right? She’s been to dinner at Jodi’s plenty of times, and though those were joint family dinners with Abby and Pierre and Jodi’s Sam and Vincent, this is barely any different. It wouldn’t be difficult to make food enough for two and put it in the fridge, She reasons, Surely even Pierre can work the stove well enough to warm up a tray of cheese and cauliflower.

She nods, final, and pops into the store to tell Pierre of her decision. He’s talking to Harvey and when he sees her, he holds up a hand in a clear wait a moment. Caroline frowns but stands beside the counter as the men finish their business and their chatter, an obedient wife.

“Yes?” Pierre asks when Harvey leaves.

“I just wanted to tell you that the Farmer’s invited me to dinner.”

“On such short notice? We’ll have to decline, I was going to do inventory tonight-”

“No, dear,” Caroline interrupts, rolling her shoulders back to stand straighter, “They invited me. I’m going to go over, this evening, I’ll leave dinner in the fridge for you, okay?”

Pierre makes a face, nose scrunching and corners of his mouth falling. “When did they ask that? I haven’t seen them in today.”

“They haven’t been in, but that’s what the letter was about,” Caroline says, then, when Pierre continues to look confused, she clarifies, “The letter I got this morning. It was from the Farmer, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. That.” Pierre says. Caroline can see that he obviously does not remember. She takes a breath in through her nose.

“I was just letting you know what I was going to do. I’ll write heating instructions and leave them in the kitchen but, if all else fails, you can put it in the microwave, it just might get a little mushy.”

Pierre makes another face but Caroline doesn’t give him a chance to argue, retreating to the kitchen to make dinner so she can have enough time to get ready before heading out.

When she leaves home at 4:30, pinning a note on the fridge to remind Pierre how to warm up their dinner, she walks down the dirt-trailed path towards the farm and realizes that it’s been ages since she’s been out here, out of the town center in general, really. When she and Pierre first moved to the Valley, she remembers going on long walks, through the forest and down the beach, up to the mountains and following the winding of the rivers; now, she spends her days either at home, in the square talking to Jodi and Evelyn, or at the community center. Time has made me boring, She thinks with something close to regret, wondering what the bright-eyed girl who used to sneak out to the Wizard’s tower in the evenings would think of her now.

As soon as the farm is in view, the Farmer is as well, leaning on the side of their house and absentmindedly fiddling with something. When they see Caroline, they put whatever it was into their ever-present backpack and jog out to meet her at the path.

“Hey,” They say, grinning, “You made it.”

“How could I not, with such a kind request?”

“You’re the kind of lady that deserves a kind request,” The Farmer says, and Caroline blinks in surprise but feels her smile grow all the same. The Farmer looks away, rubbing at the back of their neck. “Anyway, I’m about ready, but I’ve got to grab something from the coop first. You can come with me if you want.”

Caroline does want, so she follows the Farmer and lets them open the gate for her as they enter the livestock area. When they enter the coop, Caroline almost takes a startled step right back out the door; it is one thing, she discovers, to know that there are going to be chickens in a place, but it is something entirely different to suddenly be in a small room full of chickens.

“Oh, don’t worry, they don’t bite,” The Farmer says, sensing her reluctance. They pause and continue with, “Well, most of ‘em don’t. Mind that black one in the back, though I’m sure Voidy will be on her best behavior.”

The black chicken clucks loudly, almost in argument, but stops as soon as the Farmer sends her a sharp look. The whole exchange is enough to make Caroline laugh and snap from her nerves. She kneels and runs her hand through a happy blue hen’s feathers and when another chicken, this one white, comes over to investigate and Caroline pets her as well. She lets herself enjoy how the chickens shake their feathers as she strokes them and the low contented coos they make.

“Got it,” The Farmer says finally, returning and offering Caroline a hand. “I’m sure the girls are enjoying your attention, but you’re mine tonight.”

Caroline’s face flashes suddenly hot at the certainty in the Farmer’s voice, at the cocksure tilt of their smile, at the rough callouses on their hands as they pull her up with an easy motion and a bit too much power, causing her to stumble into their chest. She stills in shock for a moment, just a second, but it’s a second where she’s pressed against their work-hardened muscles, close enough to share the same air. The Farmer’s eyes are bright even in the dim light of the coop and Caroline’s pulse kicks up as those bright eyes soften. Then, quick as it had begun, the moment is gone and Caroline clears her throat and takes a step back.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” The Farmer assures her, and they hold the coop door open and the chickens back as she leaves.

Stepping outside helps clear her head a bit and she’s thankful for the cool evening air. The Farmer leads her back to the house and asks her to wait while they duck inside, so Caroline takes the time to press a palm to her still-quickened heart. What is up with me? she wonders. She figures that she’s probably just oversensitive; Pierre’s been so busy with the store, especially now that Joja’s closed, so someone paying as close attention to her as the Farmer does is obviously going to be a bit flustering. Especially when they’re that strong, She thinks, then immediately squeezes her eyes shut and shakes the thought away. The Farmer emerges then with a wicker basket on one arm and they refuse Caroline’s attempts to hold it.

“It’s rude to make a lady carry her own dinner,” The Farmer says, though they do offer their hand out to Caroline again. She doesn’t think she’s held hands with a friend since her childhood but Caroline takes it anyway, feeling the back of her neck heating up as the Farmer smiles softly and squeezes her hand.

The Farmer swings their attached hands gently as they walk further into the farm. They tell Caroline more about the chickens, about the kinds of crops they're growing this spring, and about how they’re experimenting with different types of jam.

“Once I get the sugar levels right, I’ll give you a jar,” They say easily. “What’s your favorite fruit?”

“Ah, I suppose I like apples, but really, you don’t have to-”

“I won’t do it if you don’t want any, but it’s not about ‘having to,’” The Farmer cuts in. They give Caroline an assessing look before shrugging and looking towards the darkening horizon. “I want to. I’d like to do nice things for you, if you’d let me.”

“I- uh,” Caroline swallows thickly, self-conscious and blushing. “That’s incredibly kind of you.”

“I already told you, you deserve kindness,” The Farmer says simply.

They don’t look back over to her, but their grip on her hand tightens slightly, comfortable and secure. They walk in easy silence until they reach their destination at the farm’s greenhouse. Inside, it’s nearly balmy and the air smells like fresh fruit and something else, familiar and pleasant to her. She can’t place it until they make their way around the towering blueberry, tomato, and grape plants and she finally sees two whole rows of valuable planting space taken up by her favorite flower, as well as the red-check blanket spread out next to the plants.

Caroline runs forward, unable to contain her excitement, and runs a finger down the petals of a particularly bright blue summer spangle. “These are out of season! How did you get them?”

“I asked the traveling merchant. I was going to just grow them and give them to you, but then I got this recipe and Abigail mentioned-” The Farmer cuts themself off, flushing. “Anyway, they’re for you, or, uh… I could keep them growing here if you'd like, and you could come by anytime to see them.”

“Really?”

“I grew them for you,” The Farmer says again. They take her hand and pull her towards the blanket, putting down the basket as they sit beside Caroline. “Now, this is my first time making this for someone else but all the ingredients are fresh, so…”

They push the basket towards Caroline, watching her intently as she opens the lid. When she does, she almost immediately drops it to bring her hand to her face, covering her shock-opened mouth. “You-”

“I can’t promise it'll be any good,” The Farmer is saying as they open the basket and remove the tupperwares of fish tacos by themself, red to the ears. The tacos smell delicious when they open the lids, like the sea and sun-warmed wheat, and they look even better. “No Gus-quality guarantee, but I tried my best, and-”

“It’s perfect,” Caroline interrupts, voice still muffled by her hand. Her heart feels full and light like there’s a balloon of pure happiness behind her ribcage, and she shakes her head in disbelief. “This is all so wonderful, I- I don’t know what I’ve done to earn this and I know you’re going to say it’s just a kind thing but this is- Perfect. This is just so perfect.”

Caroline drops her hand, letting it fall atop of the Farmer’s own, and the Farmer startles a bit. They look at her, eyes wide and face flushed, and Caroline feels her cheeks start to hurt because of how wide her smile is. I must look so silly, She thinks, An old lady like me so emotional over something like this, but still she can’t quell her joy.

“I,” The Farmer starts, eyes darting around Caroline’s face. They turn their hand under Caroline’s until they’re holding hands again, this time with fingers intertwined. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” Caroline confirms and pulls the Farmer in for a tight hug, pressing her face into their neck. When she pulls back a bit, arms loosely around them, the Farmer is still looking at her with that same wide-eyed wonder and it reignites her own embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” she starts, “That was-”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence before the Farmer cuts her off, not with words but with action as they close the scant space between them and kiss Caroline, a soft press of chapped lips against her own. Caroline, for a moment, kisses back; she’s so full of joy and love, and the Farmer’s lips feel so right against her own as her eyes slip closed and her body presses closer that it takes a second for her brain to catch up. But as soon as it does, she near throws herself away, half-crawling off the blanket and directly into the bed of flowers that had so overjoyed her earlier. Her hand comes back up to her mouth, covering not happiness but horror now as the lightness in her chest turns into a churning weight in her gut. The Farmer looks just as shocked as she is, though the recognition doesn’t make her feel any less sick.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I should go,” Caroline says over whatever apology the Farmer is trying, standing and brushing her skirt off. “I mean, look at the time! It’s so very late, and I’ve been at your farm for some time, and I really need to get home.”

“Caroline-”

“My family-” Caroline starts, only for the words to stick in her throat. She clears throat, ignoring the embarrassed and guilty sting of her eyes, and continues, “Pierre and Abigail will be waiting for me and I really shouldn’t have imposed on you like this.”

“You could never impose,” The Farmer says, mouth twisting sadly as they stand. Caroline takes another stumbling step back, feeling the stem of a flower snapping beneath her shoe, but they don’t try to cross the distance she’s put between them. “I shouldn’t have done that, but Caroline, you’re always welcome here.”

“No, I,” Caroline shakes her head helplessly, wipes a desperate hand at her eyes, “I don’t think I should come over again.”

The Farmer nods dolefully and takes their own steps back, gesturing at the blanket. “Take a taco at least, please. I made them for you.”

That’s the problem, Caroline doesn’t say. Instead, she takes one of the tupperwares and says, “Thank you for the meal.”

“It was no problem,” The Farmer says, still looking at her with those bright, earnest eyes, and Caroline- can’t. She can’t do this.

She shakes her head again, not trusting herself to even say goodbye, and rushes out of the greenhouse. It’s dark now, as she finds her way off the farm and down that country lane back into town. She doesn’t run, because there’s no way to know who’s watching and there’s nothing more gossip-worthy than fleeing into the night, but her steps quicken the closer she gets to home, where she’s relieved to find the store empty and unlit. She stops just inside the doorway, leaning back against the hard wooden door as she finally allows her shoulders to shake and the confused tears to fall from her eyes.

She feels like she stands there for an eternity, silently trying to dissect the night and see how it went the way it did, figure out what kind of shameful signals she was putting out that made the Farmer think that she’d ever-

But you did, a part of her brain hisses, You did, and you liked it. Caroline, alone in the dark of Pierre’s store, shakes her head roughly. No, she was just confused; it’s been a hard time for her and she’s been so stressed with the house and the store and Abby and she was just so lonely, it only made sense that her heart would get friendship mixed up in feelings like that. It was just an embarrassing accident, she assures herself, wiping her eyes and straightening her back. All there is for it now is to apologize, stay away from the Farmer for a bit, and pretend it didn’t happen.

Caroline takes a deep breath and nods to herself. She walks into the house proper, pausing when she hears noise coming from the kitchen. “Pierre?”

“Nope,” Abby answers. As Caroline enters the kitchen she can see her daughter at the table, eating shredded cheese out of a bowl by the spoonful.

“Abigail.”

“Sorry mom,” Abby says but doesn’t stop eating the cheese. Caroline sighs. Abby nods her head towards Caroline’s hands, eyebrow raised. “Is that what the Farmer made you?”

“I wasn’t quite as hungry as I’d hoped,” She says as her stomach flips again at the mention of the Farmer, just to remind her that she’s in no shape to eat tonight. “Did you enjoy the cheese cauliflower?”

Abby snorts, “Yeah I did, but dad just went to the Saloon.”

“He what?” Caroline spins around. Abby shrugs, eating another spoonful of cheese.

“Yeah, I don’t know. He’s in bed now, so I guess you could ask him about it tomorrow.”

“If I had known that he was just going to get dinner from Gus then I could’ve-” Caroline stops, takes a deep breath. She opens the fridge and puts her untouched fish taco next to her husband’s untouched serving of cheese cauliflower. She exhales and relaxes her shoulders. She has no right to be upset with Pierre right now. “Nevermind. It’s not a problem.”

“‘S still not nice,” Abby mutters around her spoon, “For all he complains about cooking, you’d think he’d appreciate…”

Abby trails off with a roll of her eyes and Caroline waits for the usual Make your family play nice instinct to rise in her chest, for the Have some more respect for your father! to fall from her lips before she can even think about it, but it… doesn’t. Caroline frowns, just slightly.

“Well, don’t stay up too late, okay?” Caroline says, instead of anything else, and kisses Abby on the forehead when she grunts her assent.

As Caroline gets ready for bed, she finds herself thinking about the greenhouse again. She looks in the mirror and presses a hand to her lips -- wondering what she’d looked like to make the Farmer kiss her, wondering if that had been their plan all along, wondering what could’ve happened if she wasn’t a wife and mother. She splashes water on her face to help clear the thoughts away. Musings like that are for girls half Caroline’s age, a girl like Caroline was before she met Pierre and moved to Pelican Town and had Abigail. Farmers and greenhouses and summer spangles, none of that is for Caroline any more; she has her life, and that's enough.

#stardew valley #sdv caroline #one shot #im... sorry

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foxglove-and-fireflies · 4 years ago

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Schizophrenia

Schizophrenia is many things.

To me, it is terrifying, enormous and all consuming.

But Schizophrenia is frustrating most of all.

I was recently diagnosed with Schizophrenia after an 'episode'. It's the second 'episode' I've had, and this one hasn't gone away.

The first time was in December of 2015. Stress in my life had been building for a while, and I felt thrust into a life I wasn't prepared to deal with. I was not mature enough to handle my life, not nearly prepared enough to manage the stress I had.

I was 19. I got married just shy of three months prior. I planned a wedding, moved into a house I never asked for (after spending my wedding weekend repairing it), and I was a full time student. Prior to my wedding I was working part time as well, but I quit after I felt too overwhelmed.

But it was December, and I was out of classes until January. I tried my best to be a 'good wife'. Wake up first, wish him well as he left for work, do laundry, make a lunch for him to take to work the next day, do the shopping, pay the bills, clean up after his aging dog, tidy up, welcome him home, cook dinner, mow the yard...

I did my best. I failed often. Many days I couldn't do everything, and some days I felt powerless to do anything. I went to my mother for advice and asked her "How do you be a good wife? I feel like I'm not enough. Should I get a job?"

My mother advised me that I should make it my job to be a good housewife and take care of all of the things I mentioned before, and that Bret was too good to me. She boasted about how good I had it, how good my husband was, and how I should be grateful for what I had been given. She felt I was ungrateful for my home, that I wasn't taking good enough care of it.

I left feeling more guilty about my failures and less clear about what to do next. I went to her unsure, hoping for encouragement and guidance, but I only felt more guilt.

The stress I felt got worse. The more stressed I felt, the harder it was to accomplish anything. The pile of dirty dishes felt like a monumental task. The laundry felt endless, like I could never catch up. I would lie in bed, so anxious about not having the energy to fix my problems that I stopped sleeping. I stopped eating.

I stayed awake for almost four days, and ate maybe twice in that time. I knew I was depressed, but I didn't know how to reach out for help. It's not like Bret would have reacted badly; he was always supportive of me. All the same, I couldn't.

Thoughts of suicide began to creep in. What if? I wonder what people would think. What nice lies they would say about me at my funeral, and what terrible things they would say in private. How would they judge Bret? He'd be the young widower to the crazy woman.

These thoughts became intrusive. Slowly I realized this voice narrating the thoughts in my head was not mine. I don't know how long this persisted before I realized, but when I did, I was terrified.

I had no idea what to do about it. Should I keep it a secret?

I became distant, in a sense. Like I wasn't really there, like it wasn't really me in my body. I felt very far away, detached from reality. I lay laid on the couch one night, the voice inside my head terrorizing me. Taunting me.

"He knows," she insisted. "He knows I'm in your mind."

The voice echoed inside my head; It came from inside my right eye. I thought about gouging it out to silence her.

Bret must have noticed my distress, as he came to comfort me. He reached out to brush a hair from in front of my face, reaching right towards my right eye.

I slapped his hand. "He knows." the voice echoed again. I was shaken. I wanted to throw up. Bret didn't know what to do to help me either.

I can't remember how many days passed after that, or even if it was the same night. Bret had gone to sleep, and even though I couldn't, I joined him in bed to be a good wife.

"He likes me more." The voice taunted me. "You're weak, you know. He's going to help me."

I got up to wash my face. I stared at the person in the mirror, hoping to see something in my eyes.

"I'm going to steal your body. He's going to help me because he doesn't love you anymore. He likes me better; everyone will. Don't worry, no one will miss you. Everyone will like me better. So why don't you just disappear already?"

It was my voice, but stolen from me. My thoughts no longer mine.

I closed my eyes. "No, I don't want to die. You can't steal my body. I don't want to disappear! You can't take my body from me!"

I searched for a shaving razor. I could dig my eye out. I could get a blade and silence the voice, even if it meant dying. I had to silence it.

Then I realized something that changed my life.

I had a choice. I had one very important choice. Two options only. I could either kill myself right now in this bathroom, or I could get help.

I was so scared. Crying, hyperventilating, unable to see straight, collapsed on the floor, I was so tired. I had to die, or I had to walk through that door and tell Bret what was happening and ask for his help.

The voice was so loud. I struggled to think. I made my choice.

I stood up, I opened the door, and I screamed the only thing I could think of.

"Bret, help me! I don't want to die!"

I had made my choice. It was a bad night. I don't remember much afterwards. He went to the doctor with me, and I got on anti-psychotics. I was embarrassed and ashamed. The doctor gave my prescription to him, and told him to hide my pills. She told him to give me one every night, but not let me know where they were.

I was just a crazy person who wasn't to be trusted with anything. I felt awful.

But things got better after that. I started therapy, and I was scared of my 'diagnosis'. Schizophrenia? Clinically Insane? What would the Psychologist tell me I was?

Depressed. I was depressed, and stressed. I also had an underlying thyroid problem, which can make you hallucinate. I got on antidepressants and adjusted the dose. I worked through some things and built some coping strategies with my therapist.

I was doing so well. I was proud of my progress. I got a job working at a place I loved. I was becoming an independent person with friends and things I did without Bret. I faced fears, I tried new things, I had fun. He was happy for me and I was growing and maturing. Life was so good! Five years passed since I made my choice, and I was so glad I made it.

It only took one day for it to fall apart.

Or... maybe it was longer than a day. I can't remember anymore. Why can't I remember? It was less than two months ago. Or three? I can't remember, and I'm frustrated by it.

I wasn't particularly stressed. I mean, work is hard sometimes, and I'm always worried about something. I've been dealing with anxiety for years, but it was managed by medication, and I no longer needed therapy. I wasn't worried about anything in particular.

Until I was. Suddenly I was afraid. The suddenness of my paranoia also scared me. What was happening? Why did I feel this way? Why did it feel like a leech on my mind? I had no idea, and that only made things worse.

I began to lock all the doors in the house all the time. I would be stricken with the need to check all the rooms in my house because something was telling me to. I was scared of what I would find. I would open the door to the upstairs bedroom and peer into the darkness, waiting for shadows to move. Waiting for the movement to tell me someone was hiding in there. When there was no movement, I flipped on the light.

Nothing there, but my mind was not satisfied. No, I turned the light off again, waiting for them to appear in the dark.

Flick off. Wait. Flick on. Flick off. Wait. Flick on. Flick off. Wait.

Over and over, until I was at least somewhat convinced it was empty. Then I would move to the next room and do it again. I did this for every room in the house, and the closets, too. I knew this was tedious and pointless, but I couldn't help it. I had to.

After I had checked through the whole house, I would hide behind the curtains and watch the world outside. I waited again for movement, for something to validate my fears. I knew there was something out there, and when there was nothing, I grew frustrated.

Sometimes there was something. A figure, taller than my fence, staring at me. I could see it, but distorted. It was there and at the same time, it wasn't. Still, I stared at it, and it stared back at me. All the while I felt a sort of pressure in my mind. This wasn't right and I could feel it. Something was wrong with my brain, but I was helpless to stop it. Frustratingly helpless.

After a while, my husband asked me to come to bed. I tore my eyes away from the figure and went to bed. I locked my dog in the room with us that night.

I woke up for work the next day, and I was paralyzed with fear. I couldn't leave the house, and wasn't really sure why. I called in sick.

So I talk to my doctor. She is very kind and understanding, and prescribes me Seroquel again. An anti-psychotic.

Now, before I go on; I am not a doctor. I have looked this up out of curiosity, but I am not a doctor. This is my understanding of how this works, but have I clarified how much of a doctor I am? Because its 0%. Do not take my advice.

Seroquel works by blocking dopamine receptors in the brain, preventing excessive amounts of it which can cause hallucinations and psychosis. Dopamine is a type of neurotransmitter. Your nervous system uses it to send messages between nerve cells. Dopamine helps you feel pleasure, think, plan, focus, and find things interesting.

Seroquel has side effects. For me, it made me exhausted. All the time, with no letup. I was sleeping 20 hours a day. I lost so much time, and I felt like I was disappointing those who depended on me.

My husband, my work, my pets. Here again is the recurring theme of frustration.

Maybe you think I'm just being lazy; I should set an alarm and throw my feet on the floor and hop out of bed.

I wish I could, but I felt prisoner to the bed. I would be awake, and as I felt my medication begin to work, I would begin to feel a little drowsy. A few minutes of that, then I'd get a little dizzy, but I'd be okay. I'd keep working, or reading, or whatever. Suddenly it would wash over me, almost painful.

My eyes would blur, refusing to focus on anything. My stomach would tighten, pulling my head towards the desk. I could feel my temperature falling and my breathing slow. If I fought it, I grew nauseated.

It's like my body was in control of my brain; it was demanding I go to sleep. My brain would stop responding, and all I could think was "go to bed before you fall asleep right now." I was a hostage to the demands of the medicine.

So I would crawl into bed and sleep for hours. I'd wake up to my alarm; 12pm: time to take your next dose of Seroquel. Still groggy from the last dose, I'd put it off for an hour or two; I needed to eat, shower, and be alive for at least a little bit.

But I wasn't working. During this pandemic, I've been working from home. With my medication like this, I couldn't work. I was struggling to stay awake for 4 hours a day and I felt guilty about not spending those hours working.

When I am awake, I feel shielded in a way. I feel like something is protecting me from delusions, like I'm on the edge of a cliff with a rope holding me back from falling. I feel slower, like my brain just can't manage to access information that I know I have.

How old am I? Um…. … 23. No, 24? Yeah, 24. I think. I should know this.

The information is there, so why can't I recall it? Thinking becomes exhausting, trying to force myself to remember things and think through basic ideas. It feels like walking through mud.

So I started skipping doses. Yes, I know, mistake, mistake…

But I was doing okay! I was getting some work done, only sleeping half the day instead of the full day. I was feeling okay, too. Thinking a little easier. I was okay!

Until I wasn't.

I walk upstairs to take my meds (after having skipped a couple doses) and suddenly I don't know where I am.

Has the kitchen always looked like that? No, I don't recognize it at all. Why did I come up here again? Where did I come from to get here? Where was I? Where am I?

It was so fast. Panic set in in a minute or two, and I was so confused. Why was this happening? That dog… looks like mine. Sort of. Cheddar, is that you? No, that's not her!

"Bret..!" I call out, hoping he can hear me from wherever I am. "Help me!"

He replies "I'm in the bathroom." but I don't hear him. I don't hear him, so I'm convinced he isn't there.

I'm not in my house anymore and now I'm alone. Panic. What is going on?! So I begin to talk.

"No, no, no non ononono no nO NO!" I muttered to myself in disbelief.

I couldn't understand why this was happening. I begin to hyperventilate. I can't breathe. Is there air?

I'm suffocating.

I begin to scream, unable to contain the fear any longer. My cat walks up to me and I recoil, scared by the unfamiliar creature.

It takes me a bit to even realize that I'm screaming, and when I do, it only fills me with more fear. "The neighbors will hear me if I keep screaming, and they'll call the cops." I think. Maybe I said it out loud, I'm not sure.

"The cops will show up to see me screaming. They'll lock me up. They'll put me in mandatory psych! They'll kidnap me! I can't go! I'm scared to leave!"

My thoughts keep spiraling to worse and worse scenarios, so I force myself to stop screaming, returning to the muttering. "Quiet, quiet, quiet… you have… to stay quiet… or they'll come…." I mutter between heaving sobs.

I don't remember when, but I threw some things in my panic. My feet dug grooves into the carpet as they tried to push me farther and farther against the wall.

I look to my left and see a man standing there. When did he get there? Did he just say something to me? I thought I was alone in this strange place. Who is he? I push myself into a corner. Wait, that stranger looks like Bret, but why is he here?

I don't remember much else. Did I lash out at him, or simply pull away? I remember both, but also neither. He brings me to bed, checks all the rooms in the house for me, and gets me my medication. He brings my dog and helps me realize its her.

I am forever grateful for him. He is kind and patient, helping me as best he can. The next morning I am still shaken, the feeling still there, but milder. I call my med provider and change to Seroquel XR, which makes me less drowsy. I'm still working on getting used to it, and trying to find a schedule that works with it. I can't not take it.

So I log into work and hop on Zoom. Should I pretend I'm ok? Should I be honest and tell them how scary the world outside my bedroom is? My coworkers greet me with the normal "Morning! How are you?"

I'm not sure how to reply. I go between a generic "I'm ok, you?" and being a little more truthful "I'm not doing well."

Either way, I don't feel like myself. My brain feels like mud, and with the perpetual fear of the pandemic going on, It feels pointless to even be here. What does advertising matter? We don't even have product to sell right now, we're sold out. So why am I here?

But I push that aside, my mind too muddied to work through that. I float through the day, often sleeping through much of it.

But what other choice do I have?

I'm so frustrated.

#mental health #schizophrenic disorder #schizophrenia #experience

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thepatricktreestump · 5 years ago

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You’re Okay: MCU imagine

Tony Stark (dad) x Reader (daughter) x Peter Parker (boyfriend) x Quentin Beck (villain)

A/N: after seeing Spider-Man far from home i definitely needed a breather of fluff to get over it, but not gonna lie, this includes some angst too. also sorry for the random uploads, i’ve been working and running errands constantly but writing when i can, usually on my novel, but sometimes on fanfics. love you all.

this is part 2 of Anyone Else: which you can find here

Closing the algebra textbook on your bed, you sighed heavily, glad you were finally done with your homework for the night. Thankfully Tony had allowed you to drag your textbooks to the dinner table so you could study while you ate, and that had allowed you to get to bed at a halfway decent time. You shoved the textbook and notebook off of your bed into your bookbag, making a mental note that you’d clean it up in the morning, then shrugged off your shorts, tossed them in the hamper, and rolled over in your sheets. With the snap of your fingers, your lights turned off, and you smiled a bit to yourself, glad that the work for the day was done and you could finally relax. Your brain was exhausted, mind filled up with different equations and theorems, and as you closed your eyes, you wanted nothing more than peace and quiet until tomorrow’s sunrise. That was, until you heard a knock. You groaned, sitting up, wiping the grogginess out of your eyes. “Tony? Seriously?” you whined. “I was already half asleep.” That’s when the knock came again, and you snapped the lights on, confused as to why the door hadn’t opened. “Dad?” You whipped your head to the window, eyes widening at the masked boy on the other side of the glass.

“Hey!” he waved to you, glad to see you were awake and attentive, but you were ever the latter.

“Peter?” you hissed, flinging off your sheets and racing to the window. “What the hell?” You unlatched the sill and slid it up, staring at him, still bewildered and frustrated. “Peter, it’s a school night! God, school night? Forget that, that doesn’t even matter right now.” You shook your head, staring at him once again. “My dad is literally going to kill you!”

“And lose one of his best avengers?” he teased. “Nah, don’t think so, y/n.”

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes, allowing him to climb into your bedroom, still donned in his suit. “So what’s the special occasion, Spider-Man?” You folded your arms, looking him up and down, trying not to blush. You had been dating Peter Parker for almost two weeks now, but still, every time you saw him in his red suit, you couldn’t help but try to hide a squeal. It was sometimes hard to picture the ever amazing Spider-Man and your nerdy dork of a boyfriend Peter as the same person.

“I wanted to visit you,” he shrugged, sitting on the edge of your bed. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other outside of school.”

“It’s cause you work all the time,” you frowned, poking a playful finger into his chest. “With your superhero adventures and all of that.” You huffed. “Honestly sometimes I think you spend more time around my dad than you do me.”

“Not my choice,” he put his hands up in surrender. “Trust me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sighed, finding yourself crawling up into his lap, linking your arms around his neck, smiling. “You should take your mask off so you can kiss me.”

“Hmm?” he tilted his head to the side, making you giggle.

“You heard me,” you told him shyly and he laughed a bit too before reaching up to tug his mask off of his head, exposing his messy brown curls and his tired eyes. “Aw baby, you look exhausted.”

“I’m fine, really,” he reassured, shaking his head. “Just a late night mission, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” you looked down, feeling guilty. “You probably don’t have time for me, you know. You’re already busy with school and the whole Spider-Man thing…”

“Hey,” Peter lifted your chin to look at him, saddened. “Don’t say that, y/n. I love you. I will always have time for you. Even though it might not be as much time as I want, there will be time. I’ll make time. Anything for you.”

“Okay,” you managed a small smile. “I love you too.”

He leaned in for a kiss and you melted into him, letting yourself relax, his hands pressing into your back. He was right. You hadn’t seen him outside of school for a couple days now, and it was eating at you alive. Much less, most of the time he was around, Tony was watching both of you like a hawk. “I can’t stay long,” he apologized. “I still need to finish my homework.”

“Just stay here,” you begged, wrapping your arms around him tight, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Forget the homework.”

“I know. I wish I could, love,” he hushed. “But Aunt May is waiting for me and she still thinks I’m over at Ned’s.”

“Alright,” you sighed in defeat. “Well… promise to visit me like this sometime again?”

“Promise,” he nodded.

Peter gave you one last kiss before you slid off of his lap and handed him his mask, watching as he fixed it on and climbed out the window, then shot a web and swung away. You watched half in awe and half in longing, wishing he could’ve stayed even maybe just a minute more. He started to disappear into the distance of skyscrapers and towers, and you slid down the window, crawling back into your bed and resting your eyes, ready for school tomorrow.

“You’re not going to school,” is the very first thing that comes out of Tony’s mouth when you arrive downstairs the next morning.

“What?” you stare at him blinking, still clutching the straps of your bookbag. “Seriously? Do you know how late I stayed up last night working on those math problems?”

“We’ve got a mission and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you home alone, so I’m taking you with us,” he stated. “Get packed. We leave in two hours.”

“Is Peter coming?” you asked eagerly and he looked at you, disappointed.

“It’s not a family vacation with your boyfriend, alright kiddo? It’s a serious situation we need to take care of,” he scolded. “Go up and get your bags. I’m taking you with us for safety reasons.”

“Safety reasons,” you mocked under your breath as you walked away and you could practically envision him scowl.

“You better behave young lady or someone’s going to get their window privileges taken away,” he warned and you stopped dead in your tracks, eyes wide.

“Excuse me?” you turned around, shocked.

“What?” he stared back at you, a bit prideful in himself. “You didn’t think I’d catch little Spidey-Boy crawling through your window last night?”

“Dad,” you groaned, frustrated. “What did I say about invading my privacy?”

“What did I say about the rules?” he cocked his head to the side, obviously annoyed. “I told you no seeing the Parker kid after midnight. And he’s definitely not allowed in your room.”

“He wasn’t in my room!” you tried to protest with a lie and he narrowed his eyes.

“Your window is part of your room,” he argued. “And last I checked, two in the morning is past midnight.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, turning on your heels and walking back towards the elevator to go upstairs and pack.

To be completely honest, you weren’t really sure where you were going, but from what Tony had told you, it seemed like the rest of the Avengers would be there. You’ve met them on a couple occasions, but Tony highly discouraged getting too involved. You understood to an extent, but you didn’t see what was so harmful about having a little fun. You were already dating one of them, and the daughter of another, why couldn’t you just be friends with the Hulk or Black Widow? What was so wrong about that? You sighed, pondering about it as you flung open your suitcase and looked for a couple good outfits to bring along. You didn’t know whether it would be warm or cold, so you decided to pack for both just to be safe.

That’s when there was a knock on your door and you sighed once again, trudging to go open it. “Who are you?” you stared at the two men donned in suits strangely, seeing as you didn’t recognize them from anywhere before.

“Come with us,” they simply stated, and you raised an eyebrow, twice as confused.

“Did Tony send you? Are you going to take my bags?” you inquired.

They shared a look, then nodded, going back to facing you. “Uh yeah, Tony told us to take your bags. You’re coming with us,” the first one announced, holding out a hand to grab your suitcase.

“Oh,” you gave a second look, unsure at first, but noted the professionalism and the suits. “Alright.” You handed over your luggage and stepped out the door with them, wondering where Tony or Happy would be. They usually were right by your side during these types of excursions.

“Keep up,” the second suited man encouraged, noting the way you seemed to be distracted as you followed them down the hall.

Before you knew it, they were escorting you into the back of a limousine, then to a building. “Soooo…” you drew out the word as they took you down a series of hallways. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see soon enough,” one of them mumbled.

“The way my dad made it out to be I thought we’d be going to London or Tokyo or something,” you laughed and they paused, turning around.

“Your dad?” they asked at the same time.

“Well yeah, Tony,” you clarified. “Uh, you know. I’m y/n. Y/n Stark.”

“Right,” the first one nodded carefully, although looked surprised at the information. “Just down this hall, it’s the last door.”

“You all keep acting strange,” you hummed. “Something doesn’t seem right.”

“Just go through the door,” the second one groaned, opening it up and shoving you through. The doors clicked locked behind you and your eyes widened, seeming to realize this was probably a trap. Goddamn it, y/n, you were so oblivious sometimes. You instantly turned around, miserably trying to flail open the door, fingers gripped tightly at the handles, but you heard a tsk, tsk noise from behind and you rescinded, facing another suited man across a desk, this one with an aftershave and slicked back hair, looking particularly smug.

“Ms. Stark now, is it?” he smirked, making you feel particularly uneasy. “Well, I thought you were just Spider-Man’s girlfriend, but now, what’s this? Iron Man’s daughter? How riveting.” He gestures to the chairs gathered around the conference table. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Panic seized your body at the realization and you instantly pressed the charm on the bracelet Tony had gifted you, the one he had urged you to wear in case of any emergency. He had crafted it himself with a tracker and alert system in case you ever were in a time like this. You clicked the button three times, expecting it to light up like it usually would, but nothing happened. You cursed, shaking and sweating, clicking it wildly, but the man just threw his head back in a laugh. You paused, looking at him, disgusted and terrified all at the same time.

“That pretty little technology won’t work here,” he chuckled. “Give up already, there’s no escape. Nobody’s coming to save you, princess. Not your Spider-man boyfriend, and definitely not your Iron Man dad. It’s just you and me now. So why don’t you have a seat and let’s talk this one out?”

“What do you want?” you scowled, crossing your arms, refusing to sit down.

“Let’s be civil now,” he narrowed his eyes. “Wouldn’t want things to get ugly.”

“Who are you?” you pestered him with another question, sick to your stomach that you were stupid enough to find yourself in such a shitty situation. Tony would be so disappointed.

“Quentin,” he gave a sinister smile. “Quentin Beck.”

“Am I supposed to know who you are or something?” you tilted your head to the side, clearly unimpressed. “Because I really don’t.”

“I used to work for your daddy’s company,” he teased. “Stark Industries? Ring a bell?”

“Yeah I’m not a dumbass,” you argued. “I know his company. But what does that have to do with me being here?”

“You, my darling,” he begins, hardening his expression and pulling out his wrist, staring at it as if to check the time, but that’s when you realize the contraption fixed to his arm. “You are my chess piece.” He clicks a button and the entire scenery shifts, conference tables and seats fading away, making you scream and curse in confusion, until you focus upon a new scene with a dark sky. You’re in an alleyway. Alone. “You didn’t want to take the easy route, so I guess you’ll have to play my little game, hmm?” His voice echoed in your ears, but you didn’t know where it was coming from. He was nowhere to be found.

Surveying the area, you began to notice someone at the very end of the alley, a small boy with messy brown hair carrying a bookbag. As you approached, he looked familiar, and you began to run to him, eyes widening at the connection. “Peter!” you called his name, running faster towards him. “Peter!” But no matter how fast it seemed you ran, you were getting nowhere, the distance between you refusing to lessen. You called his name louder, hoping he would hear you, but a dark shadowy figure came into view at the end of the alley, pulling some sort of weapon out of his pocket, pointing it at the boy. “No! Fuck, Peter- no!” You ran as fast as you can, your lungs seeming to collapse and your legs burning with exhaustion, but it happened before your eyes. A zap of blue lightning seemed to shoot out of the weapon, causing the boy to tumble to the ground clutching his chest, then crumble to the gravel motionless while the shadowy figure walked away. Tears formed in your eyes, you screaming out, still trying to run towards him, but it was no use. He slowly closed his eyes, lips parted open, still. Was he-? No. He couldn’t be.

As you ran faster you found the scene changing, and you were atop a glass bridge, high above a city full of lights, stomach feeling queasy. “What?” you looked around, panicked, wondering what had happened to Peter and the alleyway. You stared down the side of the bridge, head spinning. You must have been at least several miles up, everything was so small. You took a step back from the railing and felt the brittle glass underneath you crack, your heartbeat pounding in your chest. “No, no, no, no-” the glass shattered and you felt yourself falling down below, shutting your eyes tight, screaming as you fell, until you opened your eyes, the dropping sensation stopped all of a sudden.

Everything was gone. You were in your bed. “Huh,” you laughed a bit to yourself. “God, I’m glad that was just a weird ass dream.” You sat up from where you were laying down, looking around to make sure, and you saw everything in place like usual. You sighed of relief, then heard a tapping at the glass, raising an eyebrow and going to check. It was Peter. Your eyes lit up and you raced towards the window, opening it up and greeting him with a smile, tugging him into your room. “God, I’m so glad you’re here,” you practically cried from happiness, embracing him tightly. “I was so confused, and I thought you were hurt, but I guess-” Suddenly he shoved you back and you paused, offended and scared, looking at the masked boy you loved. “Peter what are you doing?” He shot a web straight at you, pinning you the wall, practically suffocating. “Peter! What the fuck?” He shot another web. And another. And another. Each one suffocating you more and more. You felt like you might pass out each minute. Why was he doing this? That’s when he reached up to pull down his mask and you saw a ghastly face, skin peeled off, eyes bleeding, jagged teeth, a monstrous sight. You screamed and closed your eyes but when you woke up…. You were back where you began.

You struggled to catch your breath, staring at the man who had caused you such worry, Quentin Beck. “You fucking prick!” you shouted, clutching your chest, trying to keep calm. Your head still felt like it was spinning, a dizzying sensation coursing through your body as you tried to reel back into reality. “Why would you do that? Why would you mess with my head like that? Why would you-”

“Oh Ms. Stark,” he simply chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t you know? The game has just begun.”

“Stop!” you raced towards him but it was no use, his fingers already tapping at the device on his wrist, scenery changing.

Though this time, it was at an incredible pace. There was Tony, screaming at you, telling you he hated you, that he wished you had never come crawling back to him. There was your childhood bedroom, the screaming from your mother and stepfather being heard echoing down the halls. There was your school, bullies pushing you into lockers and tugging at your hair, laughing at you and calling you names. There were monsters from your nightmares, your worst fears come to life, visions so terrifying you felt as if paralyzed. One after another, small snippets crushed your soul, making you feel overwhelmed, scared, alone, questioning one after another. They all felt so real. Despite Beck’s machine and the conference room and the memory of being kidnapped, you felt each and every scene. Frustrated and confused, tears began to stream down your face, you screaming for him to stop.

This time when you returned to the conference room you barely even had enough energy or willpower to stand, instead tumbling towards the floor, a sobbing mess, trying to form a coherent sentence. He had ruined you, messed with your mind, made you question everything. You just wanted to disappear. “Oh, sweetheart,” he teased in a patronizing tone, walking over to you, staring down at where you had collapsed. “What happened to that spitfire stubbornness you inherited from your daddy? It’s gone all of a sudden? What a shame.”

“Fuck you!” you spat, still crying, eyes stinging from tears, heart racing, body aching. “Fuck you and your games! What do you want?”

He knelt down beside you, clutching your face and tugging up your chin to look at him, making you feel helpless. “I want you to give me access to the room,” he whispered and your heart sank in your chest. “You know which one.”

“N-no,” you sputtered out. “I can’t, I’m sorry, I really can’t do that-”

“I know you can,” he insisted. “I know you and your little Spidey-boyfriend broke in once. You can break in again.”

“That’s for the Avengers, that’s not for me, it was an accident the first time, I couldn’t have possibly done it on my own,” you rambled but he pressed a finger to your mouth to hush you.

“Enough talking,” he silenced. “Take me there.”

You bit down on your bottom lip, staring at him, trying to think of something, anything, but he was right. You were out of options. Defenseless. There wasn’t any other way. “Okay,” you surrendered.

“Affirmative,” Beck spoke into an earpiece you just now realized he was wearing. “Task accomplished, voluntary captive, proceed.”

He let go of your face, forcefully tossing you back to the ground, standing back and smirking, making you hate him even more. The conference doors swung open and the two suited men marched in, collecting you up from the ground, and you gave in.

“Drive faster,” Beck snarled as the two suited men occupied the front seats of the limousine and he accompanied you in the back.

“We’re driving as fast as we can, boss,” the one in the passenger seat reassured. “We don’t want to draw unnecessary attention towards ourselves.”

“If Tin Man or Tarantula Boy comes crashing down on top of this limousine, I swear to god I’m going to wring your throats,” he threatened. “Drive faster!”

You looked out the window as the skyscrapers and towers passed, wondering and hoping and praying that it would happen. That your dad would swoop in and scoop you right out of this limo, blast Beck in his stupid sorry face, and then beat the suited guys to a pulp. You had never seen him in action before. He had strictly kept you away from his whole superhero persona and business. But you secretly always dreamt of what it would be like to watch him save you from danger. You had only seen him wear the suit and use his powers in YouTube videos or on news snippets. If you weren’t so winded yourself, you’d try to unlock the door and tumble out onto the street and then race towards the nearest help. That was, if Beck didn’t catch you and strangle you to death beforehand. Instead you sighed, slumping down in your seat, defeated. The evil man sitting beside you failed to hide a slight smile upon noting your negative tone before gazing out his own window.

That was, until the entire car jostled and both of you stared at each other for a second, the tires screeching and everyone in the vehicle shouting, jerking to the left. You crashed into the nearest parked car, your eyes readjusting as the broken glass collected in your lap and the airbags went off at the front. You tried to catch your breath before the car jerked towards the right, signaling this was only the beginning of the attack. “Who the fuck?” Beck cursed beside you, holding his hand to his forehead that was now bleeding, unbuckling and jerking open his car door. You watched carefully, then came to your own senses, crawling out of the car and looking out.

“Y/n?” Spider-Man stood in the middle of the street, staring at you, head tilted. “Oh god. No, you were in that car, you could’ve been hurt, shit, I didn’t know-”

Caught off guard, he was tossed to the ground with a single blast of Beck’s device, skidding across the asphalt of the street. “I am Mysterio!” Beck roared, shooting another blast, causing Spider-Man to come tumbling down once again, this time into traffic. “Fear me!”

Cars swerved, a couple honked, others turned around, some parked and people got out to record the chaos on their phones. You stood in shock, scared he would be hurt by this maniac. “No!” you raced towards him before Beck got in your way, shouting out his ridiculous villain name before shooting another blast as your boyfriend got up, slinging a web up towards a street light and swinging away.

“Come back here, you stupid insect!” Beck roared.

“I’m actually an arachnid,” Spidey shrugged, shooting at web towards his arm only to miss, catching the wall beside him. He was such a fucking dork. You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself despite the stress of the situation. That was, until you felt two arms come up behind you and put you in a headlock.

“Hey!” you screamed, causing your boy to whip his head around to stare at the scene.

“Y/n, no!” Spider-Man’s eyes went wide and as you began to choke you watched as he was swept off his feet from distraction once again, Beck stepping on his chest, pointing the weapon to his face.

“S-stop! D-don’t h-hurt him!” you shouted out a strangled cry, but the arms squeezed harder. It was the henchmen, the suited ones, they must’ve gotten out of the car. You eyes teared up and you began to feel lightheaded, trashing and kicking about as much as you could, blurry vision watching as Beck kicked Spider-Man in the face, making your chest heave up with emotion.

“Hey asshole!” you heard a familiar voice and instantly the arms dropped you, causing you to collapse to the ground. You groaned to yourself, realizing you had found yourself suffocating on the floor far too many times in the past three hours, before looking up, coming face to face with your father, fully suited. Your frown broke out into a grin.

“Iron Man?” you raised an eyebrow, a bit eager to see how this would play out.

“Hey Princess Peach,” he gave you a nod before extending his palm and blasting the suited man in the chest, sending him skidding down the asphalt. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah I’m fine,” you replied, a bit shocked at the brutal violence and crazy technology, but amazed all the same. Also, a bit annoyed at the nickname, but your clapback could wait for later.

“Good, cause I’ve got to go save your fool of a boyfriend,” he responded. “I’ll be back. You wait somewhere safe.” He zoomed off, rocket blasters lifting him up off the ground and soaring into the sky, then crashing down on top of Mysterio or Beck or whoever the lunatic was, sending Spidey free.

“Hell yes!” you did a fist pump before racing towards the nearest awning.

“Douchebag, why don’t you learn to leave my kids alone, huh?” Iron Man blasted him in the chest again, sending him towards the nearest building, but not nearly done with him yet. You almost wanted a bag of popcorn to munch on while watching the battle. Your eyes were fixated on the robot suit and the crazy screaming man until something out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. Fuck.

“Pe- I mean, Spider-Man!” you caught yourself, looking around, realizing you couldn’t shout his name, swallowing down the rest of your words before racing towards him.

The poor kid was sprawled out on the concrete, hacking up blood, and you raced faster, kneeling down beside him, gasping when you saw his suit. “Fuck, Peter-” you could barely breathe or speak. “A-Are you okay?”

“Hey…” he weakly responded, barely even able to lift his head.

“Jesus,” your face fell. His suit was torn in some places, blood stained in others, sticky webs tangled in other parts, and even some fabric singed. “Are you bleeding? Is that your blood?”

“I’m fine, y/n,” he whispered but he clearly wasn’t. Sounds of screams, blasts, and crumbling buildings surrounded you, but you didn’t care. You needed to make sure he was okay.

“Come on, we’re getting you out of here,” you insisted, trying to pick him up, but unable to do much but lift his torso. “I’m sorry, I’m going to have to drag you.”

Struggling but persistent, you took him to the nearest building, thankful most people had already evacuated due to the violence in the streets. “Let’s go to the back,” Peter suggested. “I can’t have anyone see me.”

“Right, right,” you nodded, helping him towards the back of the store, helping him sit up behind a couple aisles before rushing to the front door and locking it for your own privacy, then racing back to him. “Come on baby, let’s take off your mask.” You carefully helped pry the fabric of the suit off of him, letting him gasp for air, but frowned upon the sight of the gashes on his jaw and the already forming bruise on his cheek. “Shit Pete, it’s so bad-”

“I-I’m okay,” he insisted, still coughing up a lung, clutching his side.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I should’ve been smarter, I didn’t know…”

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” he reassured, putting a hand up to your face, holding your cheek softly. “As soon as Mr. Stark and I realized you were missing, we rushed out to find you. We didn’t know that you were with Mysterio, I would have never crashed the car, I didn’t know you were in there-”

“I’m fine, really,” you gave a soft smile. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I’ll be okay,” he smiled back. “I’m Spider-Man.”

“Yeah,” you grinned. “I know.” You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and sighed, hugging him gently towards you, letting him lean his weight onto your shoulder.

“Y/n, c-can you maybe get m-me some water? Is that okay?” he stuttered out and you nodded quickly.

“Of course,” you replied. “God, I should’ve thought of that. Yeah, one second.” You slowly got up and looked for the nearest fridge and then pulled out a couple bottles, taking it back to him, uncapping one before handing it off. “It’s really important you hydrate.”

In that moment it was quiet. Silence. Peter leaning on you, occasionally coughing, slowly sipping on water, you playing with his hair while staring at his mask on the ground. This is what Tony meant when he told you that knowing was dangerous. When he had said that there were people who wanted to hurt you, to hurt Peter, to hurt him. You were part of this now, like it or not, and it was part of your responsibility, as well as his, that nothing happened to you. And you just went and ruined it. You pressed your lips together, feeling slightly guilty about it all, hating yourself. Not only were they constantly chasing after villains and going out on missions, they were now cleaning up after your mess. You lowered your head, feeling down, and Peter looked at you, concerned.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered. “You didn’t know.”

“Yeah but I should’ve been smarter,” you mumbled. “I should’ve been better.”

“Hey,” Peter frowned. “Don’t say that. Anyone else would’ve done the same. I’m just proud you didn’t give up. You kept fighting.”

“Y-yeah,” you nodded, thinking back to when you had given up, when you surrendered, when you agreed to take Beck back to the tower. You were weak.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he gave you a soft hug, smiling, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “That’s what’s important, alright? Not what happened, not who was involved, just that everything’s better now. Okay?”

“Mhmm,” you replied, starting to get his point. “I guess you’re right.”

“Hey Romeo and Juliet!” you heard a knocking at the storefront window and you both groaned. “You gonna thank Prince Charming, or what?”

“I’ll get it,” you rolled your eyes, giving Peter another kiss on the cheek before heading to the door. “Yeah, yeah, thanks.”

“We are going to have a talk, young lady,” he pointed at you, and even in the Iron Man suit, you could envision him narrowing his eyes.

“I know,” you sighed. “I know.”

“Where’s Spidey-Boy?” he asked, looking around.

“In the back,” you motioned. “Gave him some water and let him take off the mask so he can breathe.”

“That’s good,” he nodded. “I called Happy, he’ll be here any minute now to come pick us up.”

“What about the mission?” you asked, a bit panicked as you walked with him to the back of the store.

“Honey, that was the mission,” he explained. “We were supposed to track down Mysterio because he had stolen some high tech advanced weapons from me and was planning on stealing even more. Apparently we got the location wrong because, well hell, he was here with you instead of where we were headed in Berlin. Strangely enough, you getting captured was helpful, in a weird twisted way. Uh, anyways.” He clears his throat. “Don’t worry about the mission, we got it covered.” He pauses. “You okay, kiddo?”

“I will be,” you reassured.

“Good,” he put a hand on your shoulder. “Let’s patch up your boyfriend and then we can get home and talk.”

The lecture Tony gave you was not nearly as bad as you thought it would be. Rather than scolding you for irresponsibility and stupidity, he reprimanded you for giving him a whole ass heart attack and a half. He reinstated just how important you were to him, and Peter too, saying that he’d do anything to keep you two safe or if need be, save you. He also explained a couple more things about the case, detailing his past with Quentin Beck, who had coined the name Mysterio and foiled several of the Avengers’ and Tony’s plans in the past, as well as stolen his achievements and inventions. He gave you a big hug and then promised to update your emergency bracelet before giving you permission to hang out with Peter Parker, although a bit hesitant. Honestly, he wasn’t half that bad as a father after all.

“Hey,” you gave a half smile as you noticed Peter enter the lounge, holding a cold pack to his face. “How’s it going?”

“Got a lengthy talk from your dad,” he laughed, shrugging his bookbag off his shoulder and sitting down on the couch next to you, stretching an arm around your waist and planting a kiss on your forehead, tossing the cold pack to the side.

“Oh god,” you rolled your eyes and groaned. “I’m so sorry. What about?”

“He said I can’t let you and my emotions get in the way of my work,” he chewed on his lower lip. “He noticed how I would get distracted whenever you were involved. With the car and then with the suited guys, I was always knocked to the ground whenever I was vulnerable. He said it wasn’t acceptable, no matter who was on the other end of the line, that I had to keep my head straight. Because in the process of saving you, I might lose you, and I might end up dead myself.” He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. “It’s ridiculous, seeing as I’d do just about anything for you, but… yeah. I guess he does have a point. People need me.”

“Of course,” you agreed, although warm hearted at his reflection. “There’s a world that needs saving.”

“That job’s for your dad,” he chuckled. “Me? I’m more of your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

“Sure…” you replied sarcastically. “As if you’re not a web slinging Avenger in your spare time.”

“Shhh!” he tickled your side playfully. “That’s a secret! How do you know?”

“Peter! Peter!” you laughed, pushing him away until he rescinded. “Don’t you know my weakness? How dare you defeat me with your tickles!”

“My bad,” he raised his hands in surrender, laughing a bit himself. He slowly trails off, staring at you, pressing his lips together. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Same,” you whispered. “And for you too.”

“No matter what happens, we’ll get through this,” Peter promised, smiling at you. “Together.”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, breaking out into a grin. “It’s not like I’m dating a superhero for nothing.”

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