#her adding wcs last weekend kinda fucked me up

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

also suddenly just thought of "Maybe it's me and my blind optimism to blame, or maybe it's you and your sick need to give love then take it away," in relation to TTPD and made myself feel icky 😵‍💫

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Coach (4)

Fandom: Dylan O'brien

Pairing: Coach!Dylan X F!Reader

Summary: you finally accept to go out with Dylan

Warnings: a bit of coursings, that's about it

WC: 2.3k

A/N: yayyy part 4! this is honestly the longest ive actually done a series without abandoning it, im kinda proud of myself. I got some anons about it and i couldn't keep you guys waiting any longer so, here ya go!

Ps, i have a tag list for this series and for my future Dylan related post, if anyone wants to be added lmk

Series masterlist

It was killing you, this weird tug in your stomach, you hated it. You felt as if you were 17 again, getting butterflies in the pit of your stomach when you saw the cute guy you liked. Only you were not 17 anymore, you had two young children and he wasn't just any cute guy. He was the coach of one of your children. Love just couldn't take it easy on you huh?

You sighed heavily as you got out of the car, slamming the door shut as you got out and doing so with so much force you thought the window would shatter. You weren't even supposed to come back to Roman's practice because as every other Friday, it was his and Athena's weekend with their father. As much as you knew he was clearly the most unreliable person in the world, you hoped that he'd at least make the damn effort to pick up his children from their respective after school activities. But no, of course he didn't. Because why would he? He couldn't even take 30 minutes of his day to pick up Athena from her dance classes or Roman from his practice. You had to stop what you were doing to pick up Athena from her classes and then drive to get Roman. And for what? So you would also have to drive them to Ryan's place anyway.

To say that you were absolutely fuming was a huge understatement.

"I'll be right back baby, don't go anywhere." You said to Athena, who you left in the car strapped up in her carseat and with the windows rolled down. You didn't want to take long getting Roman, the last thing you needed was Ryan blowing up your phone about taking too long picking up the kids. The fucking hypocrisy huh?

After making sure you locked up the car so Athena wouldn't get distracted by something and accidentally got out, you jogged over to the entrance of the baseball field, your eyes looking everywhere for your son, but much to your surprise the field was completely empty, not even the equipment was out. And in that moment you wanted to shoot yourself in the head. You were late, extremely late.

You cursed to yourself as you practically ran around to the bleachers, hoping Roman was there waiting for his dad— or I guess you now. You were starting to panic when you finally spotted him sitting at the very bottom of the bleachers, sitting by— oh.

"Fuck me." You groaned when you saw Roman sitting by Dylan, the one person you were hoping you wouldn't see until the following week, especially not after he straight up asked you out earlier that day.

You quickly approached the two, your face practically burning with embarrassment by leaving your child so late, you felt like you were neglectful or something even though it wasn't even your fault.

"Roman!" You called out to your son who instantly lifted his gaze from the ground and his eyes lit up a bit, finally being able to go home. He quickly grabbed his bag and got up, running your way. "Hey sweetie, I am so sorry, I thought your dad was picking you up." You said to him with a heavy sigh as you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his hair. When you looked up you saw Dylan standing in front of you, a small frown plastered on his usually bright face.

"Hey, I was starting to worry. Practice ended 30 minutes ago, and you're never late to pick him up. Everything okay?" Dylan asked with a bit of worry in his voice and arms crossed over his chest, making the provident veins in his arms pop out a bit more.

"Come on, your sister is in the car." You said to Roman, carrying his bag for him, you also said it to Dylan and made a small gesture with your head, signaling him to follow you so you could properly explain what happened without seeming like a shitty parent. He nodded, doing a little gesture with his hand to tell you and Roman to go first. "Look I'm truly sorry about this Coach Dylan. His dad was supposed to pick him up and take them for the weekend. But he uhm— something came up and he couldn't, so I had to pick up my little girl and then come pick up Roman. And I'm really sorry it won't—"

Dylan didn't let you finish, he simply shook his head dismissively and half smiled, "you don't have to apologize, I understand, those things can happen. I was just a bit worried something might've happened." He reassured, giving you a small reassuring smile as he walked you and Roman to your car, the night starting to fall and the daylight starting to fade with it.

"Thank you for understanding. And I can assure you it won't happen again." You assured him with a small nod and he returned the gesture. You then turned to Roman and you saw that same exact look you were hoping not to see, he looked disappointed. "Come on, I'm taking you to dad's." You said with a forced smile, hoping that'd get him excited. But it did just the opposite.

"I don't want to." He said simply, a blank look in his eyes and a small pout in his lips. You frowned.

"Why not?"

"Cause I don't want to stay with him, I want to go home." He said with a frown and a bit of harshness in his words. You took a deep breath, not wanting to have that conversation with him in front of Dylan.

"Roman, we'll talk about this at home okay? Come on." You said as softly as you possibly could, slightly ruffling his hair. The young boy sighed, heavily annoyed but simply nodded, getting in the backseat with Athena and slamming the door shut after him. You closed your eyes for a second and rubbed your temple with frustration.

"Again, I'm really sorry about this Dylan. I don't want you to think I'm being irresponsible with my kid, this won't happen again, that's for sure." You muttered the last part through gritted teeth, more so referring about having Ryan pick up Roman rather than being late.

"I didn't, not at all. I've been coaching kids for 5 years and I've seen all kinds of parents. I've seen a lot like you, parents that are actually involved with their kid's hobbies and take it seriously. And then there's parents like your husband, the kind of parent who can't take a second out of their day to know when their kid's practice ends. I've seen it and I get it. So you don't have to apologize, especially not to me." Dylan reassured you in the sweetest way you've ever heard someone talk to you. It was honestly a bit shocking just how understanding he was.

"Please just, ex husband. I don't even wanna be called Mrs. Carter anymore. That man is nothing of mine anymore." You blurted out without thinking and rolled your eyes, but they instantly widened when you realized you were talking shit about the father of your kids and to another man. God knows Ryan deserved it, but it didn't sit right with you saying those things. "I probably shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry, kinda TMI." You laughed awkwardly, rubbing your forehead with embarrassment. Dylan just laughed, smiling a bit and he just shrugged it off.

"Nah it's fine. Kinda sounds like you got some things to get off your chest." He paused, slightly chewing on his bottom lip and there was a bright look in his eyes, kinda like the one he had when he asked you out earlier. Before you could turn him down, he quickly shook his head and cut you off, taking a step closer to you, making you instinctively back up into the side of your car, "yes, I know you said that you shouldn't go out with me. And I respect that. I'm just saying we could get some coffee and talk, nothing romantic, it doesn't even have to be a date if you don't want to."

"Uh… Dylan I—"

"Hey hey, don't give me an answer now. Just think about it. Just know that I'm free tomorrow. You got my number, text me if you change your mind." He smirked playfully and shot you a small wink, his eyes lighting up in a way that just made it damn near impossible to say no to. "Oh! And by the way, tell Roman I said he killed it at practice today. He's really doing amazing."

Before you could actually say anything pr protest about his offer, Dylan had already turned around and was jogging back to the field, I guess go gather up his things and finally go home. Something you were dying to do, but now you wouldn't stop thinking about him, as if you weren't enough already.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You wanna text him, don't you?"

You stopped aggressively tapping at the rim of your wine glass and took your eyes from your phone screen to look at Liz.

"What?" You asked innocently, eyes wide as you dipped further into your glass, downing a good bit in one sip. You heard Liz laugh beside you and you rolled your eyes.

After finally convincing Roman to stay at his dad's, mostly because Ryan's constant texting and calling about 'when are you bringing my kids over' was driving you fucking insane. Of course Roman wasn't super thrilled about the idea, especially after Ryan stood him up with practice, but he eventually gave in after a bit of negotiation that included ice cream and movies. And since your kids would stay with their dad the rest of the weekend, you had all the time and space you needed to think, drink your thoughts away and then make some decisions. Which included whether or not you should accept Dylan's offer.

"You've been staring at your phone for like five minutes, and I can tell from here you haven't moved from his contact info." She said matter of factly, scooting closer to you on the couch and looking over your shoulder to confirm that you were in fact staring at Dylan's blank conversation, one you hadn't even started, but really wanted to.

"I really shouldn't go out with him, right? Please tell me I shouldn't." You begged, needing to hear from someone else that it was a dumb idea and that you were crazy for even considering going out with him.

"Listen sweetie, I really don't see why you can't. You said it yourself, it's not a date, he's not taking you to dinner. It's coffee, you're just going to talk, get to know each other and know if he's worth it outside of the field." She pointed out, for once being the reasonable one. You looked at her with big eyes, really wanting to think she was right. "Besides, it's not you're going to fuck him, get pregnant and marry him without actually getting to know him first. You wouldn't trip over the same rock twice."

There it was.

"Fuck you, too." You glared at her, eyes narrowed and a small scowl on your face. She just laughed and patted your knee like she just gave you the best advice ever and was proud of it. "I guess you're right though… I have to meet new people, and that's the only way I can. It wouldn't be the end of the world if it doesn't work out right?"

"Yes girl, exactly. Wine really does make you think clearer, huh?" She giggled and motioned to your phone, "come on, text him, go on before he changes his mind."

You took a deep breath, staring dead at your phone like it was going to run away or grow a hand and smack across the face. You couldn't believe just how nervous this made you. Your hands were slightly shaking and your heart raced, every fast beat thumping in your ears. To gather the confidence you needed to actually text him, you downed the rest of your wine in one big gulp, slightly grimacing at the taste but pushed on anyway. And without giving yourself a minute to change your mind, you texted Dylan.

So you're still up to go get coffee with a single mom with 99 problems and a caffeine addiction?

Typing…

Oh shit, that fast?

[Dylan]

That even a question? Who wouldn't want to get coffee with a hot mom?

You couldn't help but laugh at his reply, biting your lip slightly as you read it again, blushing a bit at his flirting. You didn't even remember the last time someone flirted with you, let alone called you hot.

Oh? So I'm your favourite mom and you also think I'm hot?

[Dylan]

Ofc I do. Any man that doesn't see that is either dumb or just blind

[Dylan]

So does 12 work for you? We could get lunch too if you want.

Yeah that's perfect

[Dylan]

Awesome, can't wait to see my favourite mom, goodnight😘

Offline

If it weren't for the fact that you were still somewhat in shock, you would probably be squealing and jumping around like a schoolgirl, giddy because she's going out with the boy she likes. And in a way that's exactly what it felt like. You felt like a teen with a huge crush. I mean, for over ten years you only had eyes for one man, you had only felt this way for Ryan when you first met him. And turns out he never truly felt the same. And it broke your heart. It felt like you'd never experience that again, that you'd never feel something for anyone else. And then you met Dylan, you felt things you hadn't felt for someone in years. You liked him, more than you'd like to admit. And that scared you, but at the same excited you to feel that way for someone again. Even if it was for your son's coach.

[omgmarieux]

Delos’ Tradition

Summary: The greatest day of your life with Mr. Logan Delos.

WC: 3.4K

Note: I'm so fucking soft while writing this, I’m sure I was fucking crying. And I’m like a stoned-heart person, IDK how I manage to pass through creating the fucking promises. It’s so goddamn sweeter than the red velvet crinkles I’m eating as I progressed with the story.

Written on: 07.29.2020 (3:19 AM)

It was the weekend’s morning when you woke up in your bedroom alone and then suddenly, everything dawned on you. You stared at the invisible air of your suite as you mentally skimmed through what might happen, what could go wrong. Today was a special day, a mark in your lifetime and you couldn’t help but feel excitement and nervousness. Excitement and nervousness of a new path that lies ahead of you and that you might never live the same as you do from that moment.

There was a tray on your bedside, breakfast prepared for you. A boxed of flowers on the corner with a pale pink card, the note embossed with golden letters, “Have a good morning, Princess.” You started on the eggs and bacon and occasionally brought the china cup to your lips for the morning coffee. You felt elated right now as if you were being intoxicated by every second of passing time. As you finished your breakfast, you silently sat on your king bed as you flipped every channel on the television, finding yourself to be bored with the movies or advertisement being flashed. You didn’t waste more time and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and change into a comfortable thin clothing that blends with the tropical season of the country.

As you stepped out from your room’s balcony, you were immediately embraced with the sea’s breeze wind and the noise of the waves filling your ears. The scenery was so perfect already but there is still something that’s incomplete and you cannot wait for the day to end to make it ‘complete’. Just a few more hours, be patient. You thought to yourself.

You stepped back inside your room, closing the glass door behind you and you stride to the cabinet to pull out a sheer coat to bring with you. I need to go outside. You descended to the lower part of the hotel, your feet instantly walking through the direction of the empty hall and you made sure to avoid the restaurant of the hotel to not bump into people you know. They’ll see me later when I look pretty. You opened a grid glass door on the next hallway you turned to. This area was isolated, per your request the day before checking in so you could have privacy on this particular morning. Walking on the checkered tiles, your sandals made an echo of sounds for your every footsteps. You appreciated how grand this place is. The entire wall was white marble and the floor-ceiling windows on your right, showcasing the calm beach outside. The sunlight was sifting through the transparent walls and you could just bathe in your happiness there. There were even potted indoor palm trees every few meters by the window and the leaves themselves were swaying according to the direction of the wind from the window you’ve just opened. You could smell the ocean there from where you stood, leaning against the wall as you let the air ruin your hair. Sighing loudly, the audible footsteps took your attention and you instantly guessed who it was. You told one person that they’d find you here if your suite is isolated.

“Hey, how’s the princess of the day?” Juliet asked, walking towards you. You gave her a toothy grin in which she returned immediately.

“I’m fine, nervous actually. I need the sea to calm me down.” You replied as you stood up straightly. She leaned her right arm on the same wall and watched you watch the sea.

“I know it’s the last thing on your mind, but do you want to drive around?” She asked you. Of course. She’d ask that. It’s Logan’s way of winding up when he feels stressed, but I’m not stressed right now, I’m just… overwhelmed.

“Why not?” you said and shrugged your shoulders. Juliet took your hand in hers and she instantly noticed how your hands were cold and a little sweaty. “Oh my dear, you should loosen up.” She said and started leading you out of the hotel. Looking around at your surroundings, you were wary. Afraid to meet someone you vowed not to meet until tonight. Juliet noticed it quickly of course and she squeezed your hand, assuring you. “He won’t be out here. I told him to not use the lobby.” She said and you nodded at her. The path was so familiar to you. You’ve been in this hotel a number of times in the last year and you’ve almost memorized each and every corner of the lounge, the empty hallways that lead to different ballrooms, but right now you’re just heading for the parking lot. The parking lot was filled with luxurious cars, noting that the guests later were mostly a bunch of money-fueled people though you could find Juliet’s shiny black Audi convertible easily, parked on the reserved spot. Upon reaching it, you both hopped in and she started to manoeuvre away from the spot and headed to the exit. Once you left the building, Juliet sped her way to the highway up to the cliffs. The wind was blowing your hair behind you as you watched the ocean below the cliff. The moment instantly made the day even better as it is already. “Where are we going?” you asked Juliet a few minutes in the drive, turning her head momentarily to you and just smiled. “A surprise.” She said and took her gaze back on the road.

A lot of kilometers later, she parked on the curb of a bank and you looked at her weirdly. “Are you gonna give me money to not marry Logan?” You asked out loud and she cackled at you, shaking her head. You noted the excitement look her face showed and you narrowed your eyes at her.

“No, more than that.” She replied and then pulled you inside the establishment. Somehow a staff assisted you in a mere second and you found yourself being led to a vault. Unlocking it, Juliet pulled out a red velvet box and offered it to you. As you held it in your hands, you felt the smooth material smoothly glide against your skin. The top was embossed with small letters ‘Delos’. Your eyes grew big as you opened it. There was a golden tiara with diamond ornaments that was hidden inside.

“Juliet, what the hell is this?” You asked, shocked and almost shoving it back to her. She shook her head to you, crossing her arms.

“That’s yours now. Mrs. Delos is the one who gets to keep it.” She said wryly. “Kinda envy, but it’s a tradition. Our Mom wore it on her wedding day with Dad, grandmother too, and great grandmother before that. I didn’t get the chance to wear it though.” Your eyes went guilty but she waved her hands. “Don’t worry, Logan’s wife deserves it. You deserve it.” she added. You snapped the box closed and hugged Juliet. “Oh Juliet, thank you.’ the only thing you could muster as you pulled away. She shrugged and smiled.

The ride back to the hotel was spent talking about the history of the heirloom. That the Delos little girls don't get to keep it but the future Delos woman could, in which she mischievously advised you to avoid having a little girl. Juliet also mentioned the value of the tiara today, who made it, why it had become a tradition to the wedding ceremonies of Delos. Your fingers were absentmindedly caressing the velvet box, scared that you might do something wrong with it.

When you were back at the hotel, it was past lunchtime. You were scurrying to go back to your room and prepare for the ‘greatest day of your life’. You found your white dress on a mannequin in the corner of your room, the makeup artist patiently waiting for you with a warm smile. “Have you eaten already?” Franchesca asked and you shook your head.

“Neither did I take a bath. Give me a moment please.” You requested and she just beamed at you and left the room, telling you to call her when you’re done. You placed the box to the vault in your cabinet first before you went to the bathroom and had a cold shower. You made sure to wash your hair with the lavender shampoo and scrubbed your body with a matching lavender body wash. You and Logan used a lot of lavender products as it was calming your nerves plus the smell was simply heaven. After the shower, you wrapped your bathrobe and a towel on your hair, and strode to the bedside to call for room service and ordered a light lunch. Your meal was quickly delivered to your room and you munched it in a haste and brushed your teeth before calling your makeup artist back.

The following two hours were spent fixing your makeup and hair. Juliet was there at your side too, talking to you and distracting you from your nervousness. She spoke about Logan’s childhood experiences, ones that Logan haven’t told you yet and you did end up laughing a lot, which resulted in retouching a part of your eye makeup. Juliet and the makeup artist helped you to get into your gown. The delicacy and luxury of the dress made you feel like the most important person in the entire establishment today. Of course you are, especially tonight, and Logan too. Your mother walked in just as when you were staring at your reflection in the mirror, running to your side and engulfing you to a sweet hug. Your eyes were forming tears and you fought hard to not let it flow. Franchesca already retouched this a lot. “Ah, you look so stunning. I can’t believe you’re a grown up now.” Your mother told you as she too, stared at your reflection. You gave her a playful eye roll and nudged her shoulder.

“I’m always a grown up Mom.” You replied and she curved the corner of her lips down and looked at you seriously. You heard Juliet cough and excused herself and Franchesca, leaving you alone with your mother.

“I’m proud of where you’ve come in life, you know that right?” She started and you looked at her, confused. “And that if you chose to marry Logan, I trust your judgement. We all know he hadn’t had a good reputation in the past.” She added and you instantly realized where she was going. “I mean, this is your choice and I entirely support it… but if you want to run now I’ll get the car and we’ll sneak you out.” She said without a pause and you laughed out loud. Your first laugh today, that’s actually genuine. Oh my dear. The thing that was making you nervous is to imagine that Logan would run away and leave you alone, and you know you couldn’t do that thing to him.

“I’ve considered that earlier Mom.” You said and flashed her a smile, she was about to speak but you didn’t give her the chance to. “But I really do love Logan. I won’t leave him hanging in here. We’ve planned this for a year and I can’t wait to live the rest of my life with him.” Your mother nodded and pulled you in for a hug. You could sense that she’ll cry so you rubbed your hands against her back to soothe her. “Time to let me go.” You said before pulling away.

Glancing at the clock, it was almost half past four in the afternoon. You called Juliet back, telling her to fetch the photographer for the pre-wedding photos of you. You decided that the rooftop of the west area of the hotel was the best place to do a photoshoot, it was kind of low so you could still see the ocean clearly. The photographer had captured a lot of photos of you and then asked Juliet to join in. Franchesca was always a few feet away for your makeup retouch.

“Have you seen Logan today?” You asked Juliet as you leaned on the railings and stared at the sea. The wedding will happen on the east side of the hotel, just before the sunset and you couldn’t wait to know what Logan thinks of the arrangements.

“Yeah. He looks just nervous as you are and well I asked William to check up on him from time to time…” you turned to her in an instant, eyebrows shooting up. “Made him swear to not get seen by Logan.” She quickly added and you lightly nod. Good. He’d hate him here.

“What he’d look like?” You asked, a smile forming on your lips as you imagined him in a tuxedo, but you waved your hand up in the air. “No, I want to be surprised.” You said and Juliet laughed with you.

“Let’s go, it’s almost five thirty.” Juliet said and you agreed. You two walked back inside, down the stairs to the lobby and in a glance you could see a carpeted hallway that leads down to the south that you knew a ballroom with the view of the ocean. We’ll dance there later and people would be congratulating us. You headed east and reached a tall door. Behind, you knew that guests were there, that Logan was there too. Probably already antsy on his ground.

“I’ll leave you here, alright? The cue is the song and then you go walk up there.” Juliet said, clearly becoming nervous as you are. You gave her a tight lipped smile.

“Yes, I know.” You replied and she turned around, about to head to another door that leads to the venue when you called her. “Jules! Thank you very much.” you said and she half turned at you and gave you a genuine smile. “Anytime, Mrs. Delos.” she said and finally walked away to the other door. Now I wait.

Placing my hand shakily on the nearest console table as your other held the bouquet of flower tightly. You’ve reminisced your times with Logan as you waited for the music to be played.

The first time you met him was at the Mesa Gold. You were decompressing from your previous trip in Westworld and he was just there on a chair, getting drunk. He did hit on you of course but he couldn’t get you to bed with him with his drunken lines in which he did not move on from and continued to bother you even after you checked out of the resort. It ended with a friendship first of course, or else your relationship with Logan would be just purely sexual.

You realized you were used to his presence and that you love the man dearly when he almost died of overdose. The memory in your head was still so vivid: Logan unconscious on the floor, you stumbling for the telephone, the ride to the hospital, the hours of waiting for any updates, Juliet on your side crying. Hell you were traumatized then that you can’t remember leaving Logan’s side even the duration of his rehab until he received his certification. You couldn’t say you helped him but you gave him enough support, encouragement so he could help and pull himself out of his misery.

The small speakers on the ceiling suddenly played a familiar music and you were woken up from your trance. You stood up properly, chin up. As the doors were opened for you, everything felt like slow motion. There a few steps down in a red carpet, there were a lot of flowers and ribbons swaying with the wind. You walked to the arch, finally seeing all guests beaming at you, and at the far end there was your man, Logan Delos. He was wearing a beige tuxedo, black trousers and tucked in a black tie. You slowly walked on the aisle, careful. Your veil doing poorly at protecting you with the strong wind but you didn’t mind. You could still hear the faint audible wave noises even with the music being played. There were no glances away to others, your eyes were fixed with Logan’s when it found his. Oh dear, Lo. A few steps away from him, you could visibly see his shoulders loosen up and now he was smiling widely at you.

When you finally reached him, you stared at each other's eyes for a moment. “Hi.” he breathed out and you grinned at him. “Hi Logan. I miss you.” You said and he chuckled. You both promised that you’d not spend time together the night before and until the wedding and funny enough, you lasted that long. He offered his arm to you and you took it.

The ceremony began and time flew so fast. You couldn’t comprehend much what the priest was speaking, instead all your attention was to Logan, how his hand was tightly wrapping yours… “And the vows?” When you turned to Logan, you found him nipping on his bottom lip and you smiled at him, reassuring him.

“Y/N…” He spoke, your eyes darting up to his. “The moment you told me that we should write our own vows, my mind shut down. Later that day I searched how to write one, asked Juliet to write me one but she waved and cursed me off.” You heard guests laughed at him as you did, your hands gripping his’ tighter. “I came across an article saying vows should include my dreams and promises with you in this marriage and I knew then what I wanted to say but I didn’t know if I’d nail it or bore you and these people around us.” You huffed and slightly shook your head no. No, Logan. You could never bore me. “But I’m the groom here and we’re the stars of the night so here it goes…

“Y/N, you were always there by my side and I just knew that I couldn’t have lived without you. I love you and will love you even more from this day forward, like how waves crash on the seashore. I will love you like how trees follow the direction of the wind. I will love you like how my heart pumps blood to my body, and until the day I die, I am yours, and you’re mine. I promise to cherish and honor you as my wife, in any aspect of our lives, in the midst of happiness or challenges we may face.”

You were focused with every word he spoke even as you tried really hard to push the forming tears back in your eyes. Logan’s hand reaching for underneath your veil and attaching his palms against your cheek as he wiped a tear with his thumb. You felt his other hand squeezing yours as he non-verbally told you that it was your turn. Your stomach churned, heart was thudding erratically. You took a moment to take a deep breath before speaking. Alright, here it goes.

“Logan… It is so impossible to speak every single thing I want to say to you right now, but this… our marriage is one that would hold us forever and I am more than happy to commit myself with you. You might not realize it but you’re the best thing that happened in my entire life. I vow to be honest, caring, and trusting wife to you, be with you, to celebrate and agonize about our highs and lows… Our vows could change as years pass by but my love for you won’t. I love you so damn much Logan Delos.”

The placing of rings followed. Logan was able to slip your ring to your finger swiftly unlike your hands which were shaking as you slipped his, but he was there guiding you and letting you take your time. It’s times like this that you appreciate how soft Logan could be. You could hear the officiant saying “You may kiss the bride” to Logan and every single noise was blocked from your hearing and you could only see him. He pulled you to him, your arms flattening against his chest as he moved your veil away and cupped your face, placing his lips against yours, sealing your marriage altogether. The officiant proceeded with the final blessings before you and Logan receded down the aisle.

“How does it feel like being a Delos?” You heard Logan whisper in your ear and you looked back to him and smiled widely.

“Feels too luxurious already.” You said scrunching your nose as you pointed your finger to the gold tiara you were wearing and he laughed at you.

“S’that Mom’s?” he asked, awe in his face.

“Yes, apparently Mrs. Delos gets to keep it.”

[shesawriter39049]

|Pretty Please|M|

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

Song reference: Dua Lipa-Pretty Please

About- Tae fucks you on top of your receptionist desk before you fire her…

Or- Tae’s feeling a little needy...and somewhat self continuous about you possibly hiring a new production assistant..AKA...Jungkook. It seems as though Mr. Kim takes pride in being the youngest within the office! So, you just have to remind him that regardless of who you hire he’s always going to be your baby boy! Nobody, no matter how cute, or talented can ever take his place...we all need a little reassuring every once in a while! 

Note- This one shot  is a part of my OT7 Poly AU called roll deep! Part 1 will be linked below! Short version of the overall plot: Your Married to Namjoon, however you’re both in a open relationship and run a very successful Adult Entertainment company called “Onyx” with your 5 college lovers AKA BTS Minus Kookie!

Warnings: Soft dom OC, Service top Tae, Baby/baby boy/praise kink/ light over-stimulation/ cum play/cum as lube(using someone elses cum as lube to be exact) Semi public sex, unprotected sex/ dirty talk, biting/marking kink/minimal prep (I feel like I’m missing some...but theirs nothing like off the wall in this one) 

WC: 4.5 k

Onyx Entertainment 7:09 AM 

“Y/n'' Taehyung comes over slowly, voice still full of sleep. sitting even lower, and huskier than usual..almost a whisper actually. Positioning himself right behind you, hips flush against the swell of your ass, snaking his arms, around your waist. Hands trailing slowly up your stomach, allowing his fingers to roam your body freely until one of his hands is flush around the front of your neck. Applying just enough pressure, triggering a slight chill to course up your spine, as the stark contrast from the array of metals he has dancing along his delicate fingers brushes against your skin. However your so use to the position, especially where Taehyung is concerned it doesn't stifle you the way it use to, somehow your still able to function....

Arching your back even deeper....however contrary to what he may want...that’s not really why your arching at the moment…..

“God, why do you look so damn good in this dress??!” Tae whispers, sounding almost pained at the revelation! Face nuzzled into the side of your ear, nipping at the gold dangling from your lobe. “Y/nnnn” He’s needy...and whiny...very..not that your surprised though…

A low almost disinterested hum rings in the back of your throat as your fingers patter against the phone. ‘Yes baby?.” 

”Stop ignoring me” Pouts off his lips as he nips your ear even harder, a slight growl that sounds far too cute to be ever remotely threatening leaving his throat!

 A disgruntled..nah, an infuriated groan huffs off your chest upon seeing there's 40,yes 40 voicemail's.. stored on said phone. Well aware your busy, but not busy enough to have gotten 40 messages all in one night. A string of curses hush off your lips upon hearing the date and reasons behind the numerous calls that were clearly never returned.So ya know, there goes a good... shit, 10k down the drain in payroll over the past 4 in a half months shes worked here!

“Tae, add “Officially, fire Jordan'' to my list of things to do today..please and fucking thank you…” 

Slamming the headset against the desk phone hard enough to have to actually bounce off the receiver. Taehyung knows you like the back of his hand though, not even blinking as he damn near acts as if he’s spider man grabbing the phone before it completely falls off the desk. Within seconds he instantly brings his hands back to their initial position, caressing your frame against his own. Suddenly your curiosity gets the best of you so you welcome yourself  to her desk top. Logging in to Outlook to check her work email. And what do you know, 120 unopened emails…. god why...WHY!?

“You have got to be fucking kidding me right now!! What the fuck has she been doing this entire time!?” The question was rhetorical you really didn't wanna no, it took every once of self control not to search her browser....You’d probably pop a vessel if you logged on and found her history full of online shopping, Facebook, and UberEats! Body slouching into his almost as if all of the energy got sucked out of your body upon seeing the shitshow that is Jordan's email! 

“So wait, am I adding that to your schedule before or after your 7:30 AM appointment to fuck Taehyung Kim?” Brow quirked in genuine curiosity, as if he just asked you the days weather forecast or something!.

Honestly, it took you a minute to even catch on because he said that shit with his entire chest, like, he meant that! Not even an ounce of amusement laced within his delivery….

A loud cackle ripped from your throat once you actually process what this man just said. Reclining your head against his shoulder, placing a lingering kiss along his cheek which he leaned into instantly. The grip he holds around both your waist and neck tightening once you start to rock your hips against him. 

“Hmm....must of missed that when I skimmed my itinerary this morning…huh?” A sly smirk playing along your lips as you lock eyes with his.

“Mmm, minor but very important schedule alteration...weren’t you the one who taught me that you always have to be ready to adapt to any and every situation?” 

~~~~

I finished this on 6/11 around 11 last night, however I know this weekend is kinda the closing for FESTA...and just being real I haven’t posted in like 3 months lol! So, I don’t want my stuff to get lost in all the tags so I have it qued for Monday afternoon! Sooo that would be 6/15 1 or 2pm EST!

Part 1 :Namjoon x OC (Tae comes in at the end) AFTER HOURS  

[smol-and-grumpy]

Something Just Like This - CH06

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

Warnings: There is still none, what the fuck is wrong with me?! Well, maybe mention of sex trafficking, abuse of minors

WC: 3717

A/N: There are some discussions about a scandal on a classified ad website that really happened. Thank god that page has been taken down but these things will continue to happen and they dominate the lifes of minors who are captured and exploited by these people every day.

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s a sunny day and there are lots of dog walkers in the park. Y/N was never really a dog person but Linda is, so maybe that’s why they always meet here at the dog park. Plus, it’s always crowded and they are able to go incognito. 

Y/N schleps her bags to the closest unoccupied bench she can find and sits down. 

Thinking about it, maybe she shouldn’t have bought this much. She only wanted to go in for one bra but then another one jumps in her face and it’s so cute with the lace and all, and it was the same color as her dress and of course then she needed matching panties and then, of fucking course, she needed them in different colors too. 

She doesn’t really know why she bought so many. Why she thinks that someone will ever see her in them. It’s not like she has a boyfriend, nor does she have a boy she wants to show them off to, for that matter. She’s no prude by any means and has lost her v-card a long time ago, but work has always been more important than going on dates. Not that she hasn't tried the dating thing, it’s just— every time she met with someone, she couldn’t help but run a background check on him, which she is technically not allowed to, but she’s better safe than sorry. And even if their record is clean, they bored her to death, and when she mentions that she’s with the FBI, they usually backed off on their own anyway.

Once Y/N settles, she pulls out a book from her bag and starts to read. Of course she can’t concentrate on reading. Can’t really think about anything else but how cute Dean looked when he was mortified that he might have said something weird. She also can’t stop thinking about how big and firm Dean is. How the dress shirt stretches tightly over his chest, the buttons praying for mercy. Can’t stop thinking about his perky little nipples that poked at the shirt and screamed to be freed. And his arms. Ugh. It always looks like the shirts cling onto his biceps for dear life. Not to mention the veins in his forearms when he had his dress shirt folded back. She noticed that night that Dean Winchester’s arms and hands were, in fact, freckled.

No, she shakes her head. She has no business thinking about him that way. But also, he has no fucking business looking that good, so there’s that.

She hardly notices someone sitting down next to her until the person speaks up.

“You went shopping?” 

It’s a familiar voice. 

Y/N doesn’t turn her head, instead looks at the person through the corner of her eyes. The woman next to her pulls out her phone and puts it to her ear.

Y/N continues to pretend to read. “Yeah, got an opening to attend, remember? You got what I sent you last night?”

“We looked through it. It’s quite a finding.”

“Really?” Because Y/N couldn’t make anything from the scribbles, “Good.” 

“There’s something about Lucifer in the notes. That’s just his nickname, which is fitting because he is indeed the devil. He’s Winchester’s rival. Used to be his right hand but split with them. Now he’s up against them while simultaneously building up a reputation in human trafficking.”

“Oh,”

Human trafficking , she remembers the time in training where they taught her about that. Knows that it’s a multi-million dollar operation behind it, knows that it’s dangerous as hell.

“Be careful, alright?”

“I will.”

“You wanna quit?”

“Why?”

“Because it’s getting risky. You just have to tell me and I’ll pull you out.”

“I know,” Y/N says. 

She knows that she can pull out anytime. It’s just—

—the more she gets to know Dean, the less she wants to quit. Which is unlike her at all. 

Y/N feels some kind of need in her. A need to know more about him. Wants to know how he ticks, wants to know why he’s always so reserved. She thinks there’s another layer of Dean Winchester. A layer you can’t see with your eyes, a layer you have to see with your heart. 

She thinks that there’s more to him than the mob boss and she feels weird to want to stay to see what’s beneath the hard shell. “So you’re telling me that Dean isn’t such a bad guy after all. That there’s someone out there who’s worse. Shouldn’t I try to get this Lucifer guy then?”

“No, Winchester’s bad, okay? I agree that Lucifer is worse but I can’t get you close to Lucifer. That guy is not only bad, that one is dangerous. I’d be risking your life and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“Human trafficking, huh?” Y/N still looks down at her book and turns a page, just in case. “What kind?”

Linda nods subtly, “He started with organs but he wandered into sex-trafficking. Mostly young girls.”

“Wow.”

“Girls from normal families, runaways, sometimes he gets them off the street, promising them shelter and care—”

“—But instead they get abused and drugged.” Y/N finishes the sentence.

“Yes,” Linda nods.

“Isn’t there a special unit for that?” Y/N remembers her dad used to tell her about the Village Voice scandal.

“There is, and there’s another team on Lucifer but we’re working close with them.”

“So, what is that about, some sort of backpage kinda thing? I thought we put that to rest?”

“Oh honey, for every page we close, there are two or three more showing up, and that’s only the pages we know of.” Linda’s voice is small. 

Y/N remembers her dad being engrossed in his work while the backpage story blew up. A place where underage girls were trafficked. Heavily. Up to 20 clients a day. Every time she went back from college to see him in the years where backpage won case by case and continued to exploit girls on their page, he’d make sure to hold her just a little bit tighter.

“Right.” Y/N sighs, doesn’t want to think about all the bad things in the world because it would only rile her up more, “I need to keep going if I want to be on time for my shift.”

“I love you.” Linda says without looking at her. 

“Love you too,” Y/N replies, stands up and grabs her bags to leave.

*

Dean didn’t show up that night but when her shift ends, Y/N receives a text from an unknown number. 

D: Hey sweetheart, where can I pick you up tomorrow? Dean

Her cheeks warm up and ugh, there’s the flutter in her heart. She should not be feeling this.

Y/N: Hey stranger, you were missed tonight. 

D: Yeah, sorry, have a lot on my plate. Broken any noses or jaws tonight?

Y/N: No, they behaved. 

D: Good. Would have been a shame if I would have to punch them all in the face next time I’m there.

Y/N: I can take care of myself. 

D: I know. I also know that I shouldn’t get on your bad side. 

She giggles at that.

Y/N: So, tomorrow, picking me up at the bar is okay. I’ll see if I can help Ellen before I have to leave.

D: You are really a good girl, huh? 

D: I’m kidding. I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart. Have a good night.

Y/N: You too.

She smiles to herself as she puts the phone back into her purse and proceeds to close the bar.

***

THE NEXT DAY

    “Alright, Ellen, everything’s in the cooler, you want me to help with anything else before I have to get myself ready?” Y/N calls to the back. Taking a look at the clock, she notices that Dean said he’ll pick her up in two hours time. There’s still plenty of time to do some other chores if Ellen wants her to.

“No, that’s alright. Just gonna hang up this sign,” Ellen comes through the door and pushes past Y/N with a sheet of paper in her hand. She notices some scribbles done with a black marker but can’t quite catch what it says.

“What’s that?” 

“Oh, I’m only open for a couple of hours tonight, gonna close earlier than usual.” Ellen shrugs and tapes the paper to the front door.

“Why?”

“I’m alone and I can’t possibly manage all the people. Have you noticed that there are more and more every night? I think it’s because of you, honey. They all drive out here to see you. And besides, Winchester paid me enough that I could actually close the bar for tonight, for the whole weekend even, but I guess some people still want to have a drink or two.”

“Oh,” Y/N could say she’s surprised that Dean paid Ellen, but really, she’s not for one bit. Thinks, it’s ridiculous how he always finds solutions by using money. 

“Go and get yourself ready,” Ellen pats her shoulder and disappears into the back office.

  *

She’s sitting at the bar on Dean’s stool when the door opens to a tall guy. One she’s never seen before. 

He smiles when he sees her and waits at the door. “I take it, you’re Y/N?”

“Who’s asking?” 

“Hi, I’m Castiel. Cas,” He looks around, as if to inspect the bar but makes no further move, “Everyone calls me Cas.” 

Castiel walks in and stands in the middle of the bar now, his gaze wanders from her to the back door. From the back door to the jukebox and further to the other side of the bar, “I’m working with Dean and he sent me to pick you up.”

“Oh,” She says and swallows down the disappointment she knows she shouldn’t be feeling. Of course Dean’s busy. He’s a fucking gangster boss who helps his brother opening up a legal law-fucking-firm. It’s a wonder if he’s not busy.

“We should get going. We’re already late as it is,” Cas walks back to the door he came through and waits for her while he holds the door open, “You coming?”

“Sure,” Y/N says, and hops off the stool, bites on her tongue as not to snap at Cas and ask him why Dean couldn’t come. Because let’s be honest here, she shouldn’t care about it as much as she does anyway.

They walk out and Cas is a gentleman, lending her a hand to walk down the front of the bar. He’d parked right in front of it too, so that she doesn’t have to walk through dirt with her nice new shoes. 

“That’s Dean’s car, isn’t it?” She asks upon realizing the Impala that Dean usually drives.

“Yeah, he told me that if you should get suspicious, I can always show you his car. Told me you’ve seen it already and let’s be real here, she’s a beauty.”

Right, she definitely should have interrogated Cas. Especially because Lucifer is on the loose and he holds a grudge against Dean, apparently. Only she doesn’t think that she’d be important enough for Lucifer to consider her a person of interest at all, so it never crosses her mind that someone would want to harm her. Not even after what Linda told her yesterday.

Cas goes on after he settles in the car, “Like, he never lets me drive, ever! So who are you really that he even made me drive out here in his Baby to pick you up?” 

“I’m his barmaid.” She just shrugs and it makes Cas laugh. Loud and sharp. 

Dean nervously flips his wrist and glances at his watch. The party has started and people are starting to pour in. Some of them mingled together in a group, talking in low hushed voices. The background music is soft. Sam had wanted some jazz music, had dismissed Dean’s suggestion that people might prefer classic rock. His firm, his party, so Sammy put his foot down. 

There were also powerful people here, judges, doctors, state reps, they’re all legal on the outside, but Dean knows their secrets — as much as they know his. Which kind of works to his disadvantage, really. 

He’s standing off to the side, grabbing a bite off the trays the servers are bringing every now and then, shaking hands with people he has never met, letting Sam introduce him as his brother, the war hero. To say that Dean’s bored and feels out of place is an understatement.

Jo’s hanging on his arm like she belongs there and Dean can’t remember when the last time was that she’s been so clingy. She’s talking to Jess who’s hanging onto Sam. Sammy’s beaming from ear to ear and Dean likes that. Finds his own comfort in Sam’s happiness. 

Sam’s been with Jess since college and Dean advised him not to spill too soon about who he is, who his family is but of course Sam did the contrary. Boy has some authority issues. To Dean’s surprise though, Jess stayed with Sam and cut all ties to her family. He guesses that it really must be love. 

Whatever love is. 

He doesn’t know it, can’t really say that he’s been in love himself. Love. It’s only a word, some utopian thing that only happens in movies. Well, or something that happens to other people. People who deserve it. Like Sammy for example.

“Dean!”

He doesn’t have to look in the direction to know who it is. Dean would recognize the voice — or rather the noise — anywhere. Jo’s hand around him grips him tighter, as if she wants to mark her territory. Dean thinks it’s weird but before he can even form a thought in his head, he hears loud clicking of heels walking swiftly towards him.

She struts closer with her mother. Both of them dressed to impress with too much make up on their faces. It makes them look like very expensive hookers. Those kinds where Dean wouldn’t want to get involved with.

“Amara,” Dean greets her and then, he’s being hugged. Amara’s strong perfume penetrates his nostrils, her boobs rub against his chest and he knows that she does it deliberately. Jo lets go off him by the sheer force of the hug.

Dean literally plies himself from her and her arms are still hanging off his shoulders when he greets her mother, “Rowena,” He nods. 

“Hello Dean,” Rowena’s smile was bright and white. “How are you, boy?” 

Dean knows that Rowena likes him like a son. She was madly in love with his father, he didn't even know if they had something going on, didn’t really want to know, to be honest. But he knows that Rowena would have loved it if he would have married her daughter, which, of course, would only happen over Dean’s dead body.

“Good, thanks.” Dean tries to smile and somehow winding out of the grip Amara still has on him. “Oh, hey, Sammy’s here. It’s Sammy’s night tonight.” He grins and it’s all forced, hoping to avert the attention from him to Sam. 

Jo’s gripping his arm again, on his other side hangs Amara, and the two women are sending each other daggers with their eyes as they greet one another. Dean looks around the room, trying to see if someone could get him out of his misery, knows that he could do it himself, and as much as he loves to tell them both to fuck off, he has to play nice because he doesn’t want to upset Sammy on his brother’s big night.

When nobody seems to notice his state of discomfort, Dean decides to make the best out of it, talking to the group of people and making lame jokes. To his amusement the two women laugh the loudest at something that isn’t even remotely funny, making Dean frown in bewilderment.

He looks up again, his eyes scanning the room, maybe someone will take notice of him now. His eyes stall at the front door.

Cas walks in, Y/N on his arm. Their eyes meet immediately, and maybe Dean’s wrong but he sees her looking down right after, as if she tries hard to look at anything else but him. 

He can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy hitting square in his chest, right where his fucking heart is, upon seeing her hanging off Cas’ arm. 

At that moment, all he sees is her. Sees her hair loose around her face, the pretty dress hugging her beautiful body. What he also sees is the color in her cheeks, and the puff of her lips, wonders how they would feel on his, or around his cock. Feels only a little guilty that when he rubbed himself off in the showers this morning and closed his eyes, all he saw was her. 

Dean pulls himself away from Amara and Jo. Shaking off Amara’s arm when he feels her nail claw into him more, hears her say something but he doesn't even listen because he’s literally running towards Cas and Y/N.

“Hey,” He comes to a halt in front of them, and she’s still not looking at him. Dean turns to Cas instead to get them some privacy, “Cas, thanks.” 

Cas nods and holds out Dean’s key to his car but doesn’t say a word, sensing the awkward situation that Dean’s in immediately. 

“I need a fucking drink,” Cas declares and pushes himself further into the room to find the bar. 

“You okay?” Dean asks as Cas has left. It’s a stupid question really, when he could clearly see that she’s not, in fact, o-fucking-kay.

He sees her hugging her arms around herself and when she looks up, he notices something else in her eyes. Something he can’t place. Maybe hurt? Annoyance? He doesn’t know, could never read a women like a fucking book. And he can’t say that he doesn’t hate that she feels this way.

“Yeah, why shouldn’t I be?” She smiles but Dean can see that it’s a little strained. 

He rubs one of his hands over her arm and she relaxes noticeably, which he thinks it’s good, isn’t it? Dean takes her hand, pulls her with him, and he’s glad that she let him, “Come on, let me introduce you.” 

     *

He got her drinks and it wasn’t long before she warmed up to him again while they talked and laughed with Sam and Jess, having successfully fended off the two other women as Dean stopped paying attention to them. 

Dean can see now from the corner of his eyes as he checks her out every now and then (he didn’t dare to stare at her too long though, fears that she might feel uncomfortable), that her smiles are genuine. 

Thank fucking god, Dean thinks. Wouldn’t even want to think how awkward the night would be if she would be mad at him for the majority of it. 

“Dean Winchester!” 

He knows that voice, knows it too well. Dean sighs and rolls his eyes before turning around, earning a giggle from her which actually makes him feel better too.

“Crowley,” He nods.

Crowley grins. “Nice party,” 

“Yeah, I agree,” Dean answers sharp. 

“And who is this lovely young lady?” Crowley looks at Y/N and the dude takes her hand, kisses it while Y/N clearly looks stunned. 

Dean balls his hands into fists, bites the inside of his cheeks to calm himself down.

“Y/N, this is Crowley—” He says at last.

“The mayor.” She finishes Dean’s sentence. 

Of course, Dean thinks. He tends to forget that Crowley is not the sneaky leprechaun but instead the mayor of the city. 

“Darling, mind if I borrow this giant for a moment?” Crowley asks Y/N and Dean hopes that she says no, even though he knows that he needs to talk to Crowley but tonight he’d rather let business be business and enjoy the time he has with her. Who is he kidding though, of course she’d say yes because she’s a good fucking girl. 

“Go ahead,” She smiles and nods. 

*

Dean didn’t see Y/N for the rest of the night. Amara’s back on hanging to his every step and every which way Dean turns, there’s always someone who wants something from him, even if it was Sam’s fucking night. 

He doesn’t complain though, playing his part — because he owns Sammy that much. He talks to people while Amara’s hanging on his arm, laughing at stupid jokes that people tell him and telling his own lame ones over and over. It’s fucking draining and he promised Sam that he won’t drink a drop, he regrets the promise right about now. 

Finally, by the end of the night, the guests start to leave one by one, and Dean looks around because he still couldn’t find her so he walks over to where Sam and Jess are saying their goodbyes to their guests. 

“Dean, you alright?” Sam asks and Dean knows that Sam can probably see in Dean’s face that he’s distressed. 

“Yeah, no,” Dean doesn’t even have it in his heart anymore to keep up the facade and lie to Sam, “Have you guys seen Y/N?”

“I saw her talking to Amara but it was almost two hours ago,” Jess says and as if on cue, Amara walks past them, grabbing at Dean’s arm again but Dean shakes her off.

“Amara, have you seen Y/N?” Dean almost shouts and it might have been louder than he wanted it to be but yeah, he’s a little worried — if not a lot. 

“I spoke to her and then she said she wanted to go outside to get some fresh air.” Amara’s tone of voice has something in it that rubs him the wrong way.

Dean pulls his phone from his pocket, thumbs over his contacts and dials Y/N’s number. It doesn’t even ring. It went straight to voicemail. He tries it again. And then again. 

“Right, Sammy, I gotta go,” Dean doesn’t even wait for Sammy to answer, instead he runs outside, and when he doesn’t see her, he runs to his car.

CH07

[baeklination]

bartender love    pt.1

Pics: random from web, Kyungsoo don’t know

Date:200711

Warnings:au (non famous Kyungsoo), crude language (cursing), alcohol, light pre-smut 

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Reader (Y/N)

WC: 3k

NOTE: 1. I couldn’t let go of bad boy Soo just like that, I had to write something. 2. I am acutely aware of how cringey, horrible, simply NO the title is, but please believe that I couldn’t not do it..! 

pt.2   pt.3                                       ¤¤

“This one? Doesn’t look too shabby or too chic”, Iseul said shrugging her shoulders.

“The Shamrock…” you read out loud and demonstratively tapped your finger on your chin. “Could this be an Irish pub?”

You both cracked up, thinking about the numerous conversations you’d had about Irish and British pubs and their oftentimes generic names. 

“Okay, it’s a bit...But would you rather spend your time trying to find another place to have a beer, or actually having one?”

You and Iseul had a habit of going out for a few beers on the weekends, but when you had showed at your usual haunt you were met by a sign informing you it was closed for renovation. Hence the hunt.

“Point taken. We’ll give it at least one beer’s time to impress”, you agreed.

  The interior looked much like any other Irish bar: dark wooden flooring as well as walls, matched with the same dark furniture; a couple of booths with red cushioning along the walls, tables and chairs in the middle and a long counter at the back. It was only around 7pm so there weren’t a lot of patrons in yet, a few dinner guests and a couple sitting at the bar.

“It doesn’t smell like pee or vomit, that’s a plus right there”, Iseul joked. You burst out a short loud laugh, making the bartender turn around with raised brows. You pretended to scratch your nose but it was just a trick to cover your mouth when you mumbled:

“Oh my god...”

You and Iseul had been friends for so long she understood every mumble and code in your speech - and she agreed. Hauling up her phone she said:

“Excuse me while I call my boyfriend of four years to break up with him.”

You tried to choke your laugh but failed miserably and the two of you must have looked like a pair of giggling teenagers when you reached the bar counter. Thankfully the bartender didn’t show any sign of overhearing your conversation, he just smiled jovially.

“Hi. A draft beer and my friend here will probably want something you don’t stock”, Iseul told him.

“Yeah? What you want?” he said as he picked up a glass and started pouring Iseul’s beer.

“You in the bathroom stall in two seconds”, you thought to yourself when you heard his voice. It was so deep you swore it could erode the friggin’ glaciers on Greenland..! 

“Eh...I’ll have a…” you lingered as you scanned the shelves to see what they offered. 

“Told you so”, Iseul mumbled as she received her glass. 

“Kilkenny. I’ll have a Kilkenny, please and thank you.” You emphasized the sentence to make a point of disagreeing with Iseul’s characterization of you as picky.

“A girl with taste...Let me just see your ID’s real quick.”

The way he looked at yours and then said “Y/N...pretty” gave you a tingle in your stomach and almost like a rush of electricity through your head as you smiled and thanked him. 

“Ooh, someone’s got an admirer…”, Iseul cooed as you sat down.

“Yeah, he does”, you said pointing at her.

“Haha..! If I was single I’d tap that quicker than-”

“Je-sus..!”

“Yeah, quicker than Jesus. Except I wouldn’t, since he clearly has his eye on you, girl. Plan of action?”

“None. I just sat down.”

“Y/N, come on..!”, Iseul whined. She made a gesture of grabbing something. “Carpe diem. Carpe bartender..! He’s even looking at you now..!”

You were seated with your back against the bar, so you couldn’t see him but you could guess Iseul was just making a point.

“No he’s not.”

She widened her eyes.

“If you look over there now…”

There wasn’t any way to do it without being obvious so you just turned your head. He was looking at you. It caught you by surprise; you quickly turned back, not even offering him a smile. Immediately you realized how it must’ve looked. You put your hand in your face.

“Fuck…”

“Smooth…”, she said slurping her beer demonstratively.  

You had to laugh at yourself, couldn’t help it really.

“Aeh, I’m not trying to act cool anyway, Is. Topic: tell me about your trip. You’re leaving wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, wednesday…”

And so you naturally changed the subject and talked about this and that until Iseul started tapping her empty glass.

“Okay”, you sighed, “it’s time. Carpe bartender. Still no plan.”

“Organic? I like it. But smile when you look at him this time.”

 And boy was he something to look at. From the piercing in his eyebrow and the one in his nose to the ring he had in his lip - those luscious lips..! The tattoo on his neck, partly covered up by his buttoned up black suede shirt, and his thick black hair; shaved at the sides but cascading down in front of his eyes when he moved. The way he ran his ring clad fingers through his hair to keep it out of his face was the near deadly icing on the cake. “Let the carping begin”, you laughed to yourself as you approached the bar.

“My tasty girl...”, he said with a crooked smile.

“My creepy bartender…” you countered, making him laugh, deep and rumbling. “One more draft, and since you have so many options I think I’ll try something new. What’s good?”

He thought about it while he drafted Iseul’s beer:

“Ah..! I think you’ll like this one.” He turned to the counter behind him for a moment and when he came back he had the cheekiest smile on and he put a note in front of you. “Here’s something new.”

Perplexed you looked down; it was a phone number - presumably his. You rolled your eyes and sucked in your cheeks, pretending to be bemused, even though you were clearly amused.

“Really..?”

“What, you don’t like it..?” He knew it was cheesy as hell so he couldn’t keep a straight face either.

“Of course I fucking like it..!” You said and slammed your hand on the note. “Oh, wait. Is there a name attached to this number?”

“Kyungsoo.”

“Kyung..?”

“...Soo.”

“Kyungsoo. Well, nice to meet you, Kyungsoo”, you said holding out your hand.

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N”, he responded and took your hand.

“I was actually trying to get that beer you said you had for me, but okay…”

When you got nervous you had a tendency of making jokes (if one could call them that), but Kyungsoo didn’t seem to mind. He knitted his brows and nodded:

“Okay, it’s gonna be like that…Maybe I should take my number back then..?”

“There are no takesies backsies, mister”, you scoffed.

“Takes…” he smiled in disbelief. “Did you just say takesies backsies?”

“No…”

“Let me grab you that beer so you can drown the embarrassment of these last five seconds.”

“Thanks. Well, I better get back to my table with her beer.”

“What are you guys doing later?”

It was at this point puppies started doing cartwheels in your head.

“I dunno. We’re gonna get some burgers and then try to find another bar. Our usual place is closed for renovation. We’re kinda drifting around...”

“...like two plastic bags in the wind”, he filled in with a dramatic gesture. “There’s a place up the road, Henki. I usually go there when my shift ends. You should come.” Kyungsoo looked you square in the eyes with seriousness that made you tremble (in the good way). “You should definitely come.”

                                         ¤¤

  So here you were, sitting in a booth in a half dingy rock bar because a pretty boy said you should. 

“But seriously, how can someone look like that! Even I’m nervous..!” Iseul exclaimed. “And he seemed cool too, no?”

“ Yeah, really cool. Like chill. Like…”

“...like someone’s in lo-ooove..!”

“Oh, get outta here with that love shit!” you swatted your hand in the air. “It’s gonna be at least two more hours.” You took a sip of your beer and continued “Thanks for being the best and chillest wing-man. But you’ve gotta tell me if I shade you too much, alright.”

“Who am I to stand in the way of young love..? Ah, I remember it like it was yesterday..!”

“Because it was yesterday - you live with the guy!”

“That’s what I said, like yesterday” she laughed.

Iseul gasped:

“He’s here! No, don’t look! Be cool!”

“Shh, stop it - you be cool, Iseul..!” 

  Kyungsoo scanned the room almost immediately when he came in. You didn’t care if he saw how excited you were; he was obviously feeling the same way. When his eyes landed on you he broke into a smile which made you smile all the wider, and making his way to your table he chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. He squatted, resting his arms on the table:

“You came.”

You started saying something but Iseul beat you to it:

“She couldn’t get here fast enough.” 

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows. “Me neither. Oh, sorry”, he said turning to Iseul “I’m Kyungsoo.”

“Iseul. Aren’t you gonna sit down?”

“My friends are here so I have to say hi to them first, have one drink at least. You know bros before…”

“Before what now?” you said, crossing your arms.

“Eh...non-bros. Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll be back.”

“I’m not”, you smiled “I know you will.”

  On one hand you thought that drink took an awfully long time to finish, but on the other you didn’t mind since you were having fun. Even though you and Iseul practically saw each other more than her and her boyfriend did there was always something to talk about; whether it be your annoying manager, her annoying manager, politics or long rants about food. You didn’t have to wait long for new fuel to be added to the conversation as Tony soon joined you.

“I knew you’d feel like you were dissing me, so I asked him to come.”

“Yep, I’m the wingman’s entertainment.”

“You’re self-sacrifice has been noted, and bounty will be stored upon you when we get home, good sir.”

“See...”, he said, putting his arm around Iseul and giving her a kiss “...my chick is the best.”  

“Ain’t dat the truth”, you agreed.

“Hi…” 

You looked up to see Kyungsoo by your side.

“Great timing, bro”, Tony said, shaking Kyungsoo’s hand. “I was just about to steal my girl away for some alone time.”

“Subtle, Tony. Real subtle…” you rolled your eyes.

“The way you say that makes it sound sarcastic. But it can’t be.” Kyungsoo had a puzzled look on his face. “It couldn’t be that they’re making up an excuse because I came over and they think we might want some alone time... Nah, it’s too devious”, he shook his head.

“They’re bad seeds, Kyungsoo. Better stay away.” You grabbed his wrist, and got that electric feeling again, but no one noticed through the laughter.

“Just don’t leave without me.”

“Of course not”, Iseul assured you before they changed seats.

“Now...”, he sighed “can I finally buy you a drink?”

  He was so unlike most guys you’d dated, or even had a short chat with for that matter. His energy was like a huge magnet sucking you in, enveloping you with brightness and warmth that felt so natural. It could’ve been Iseul you were talking to right then. Both of you were open and all smiles; that “once in a blue moon”-connection you instantly feel but can’t pinpoint the reason for. What the heck did you even talk about to make the time go so fast? Music, friends, tattoos, life… You wouldn’t be able to retell half of it, but it was constant and comfortable. After some time you joined his friends at their table and the conversation flowed as easily there. One of his friends, Loey, had the most amazing red hair which you couldn’t help but gush over.

“I really like your hair, Loey. It’s so...red!”

“Thanks. Then you should’ve met this one a couple of months earlier”, he said pointing to Kyungsoo.

“It was nothing, just a phase”, he swatted his hand in the air.

“Nothing? The girls went fucking crazy over it..!”, Loey exclaimed.

“Is that so? Tell me everything, Loey.”

You weren’t the jealous type at all, you just found it funny to see guys stumble and mumble trying to convince you you were the first, best and prettiest woman they’d ever seen - as if. 

“Aeh, don’t listen to him”, he said and put his arm around your shoulders (“finally!”). “Women don’t throw themselves at me. Except for you, of course”, he ended with that cheeky smile.

“Excuse me..! I have half a mind to un-throw myself right about now.”

He laughed and leaned in next to your ear.

“Don’t.”

One word. One word with that deep, vibrating voice in your ear was all it took for your brain wires to fly out of their sockets and whip around like it was Woodstock. You made an excuse about having to go to the ladies room and waved at Iseul to join you.

“Holy mother of GOD, if I don’t chill out - if he doesn’t chill out...”

Iseul folded over laughing. 

“Stop laughing, Iseul, this is serious stuff!” you implored. But you weren’t leading by example, the way you yourself had to lean on your knees for support. “I need...spiritual guidance over here..!”

Iseul wiped her tears and stuttered:

“Just...do whatever you want to do. You’re a grown ass woman, Y/N.”

“I said spi-ri-tual, not se-xu-al…”

“I can only help you so much. And I can only leave my boy alone for so long. Leggo!”

  When you saw him walking towards you you knew exactly what was about to happen, so you stopped, leaning on the wall with a hint of a smile.

“Come here, already.” He pulled you to the side so not everyone would see you.

 You’d been looking at those lips all fucking night but never found an excuse good enough to be alone with him. Excited was an understatement.

“I’m gonna be a gentleman and ask if I can kiss you, but I’m not gonna wait for your answer. Can I?”

He put his hand on the nape of you neck and leaned in. The way his lips were slightly parted at first; the way he pushed his tongue in to your mouth, slowly but with dominance; his hot breath... 

“Fuck…”

“You wanna..?” he breathed into your mouth and pressed his lips harder against yours. You felt the smile on him which made it - him - even worse. The way he kept his tongue in your mouth, slowly feeling and tasting every bit of yours… This boy knew how to kiss. You instinctively arched your back and he slid his hand under your top, gently pressing on the small of your back.

“You wanna get outta here?”

He placed wet kisses along the side of your neck down to your collarbone and began moving the strap of your top off your shoulder. You felt a rush of fire - blazing - and that’s when you got a hold of yourself.

“Whow..!” you jerked back and held your hands in front of you.  

Kyungsoo looked perplexed.

“I’m trying to not…”, you said, raising your eyebrows in a meaning way “...you know…”

He laughed.

“Aah. You’re trying to not throw yourself at me.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, how about I throw myself at you then?” He put his arms up on either side of your head and continued kissing your neck.

“Yes, plea-no! No. No one throws anything, alright?”

He put his head against the wall and you could feel his scent. You hadn’t thought about until now but he wasn’t wearing any perfume; it was natural. And natural Kyungsoo did your head in. You were just about to grab his waist when he straightened up.

“Okay, you’re right. And I kinda like you more for it. But I also kinda��”

“Hate me for it..?”, you smiled.

“Mm-hmm..”, he cupped your face and started kissing you again. “...also kinda hate you for it.”

After a few moments he pulled away, took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled harshly.

“Okay, that was the last one. I’m a guy, Y/N, I can’t keep on kissing you like this or I’ll go nuts.”

It made you giggle. It gave you butterflies in your stomach. It made you feel special.

“Fuck it, just one more”, he said and leaned in.

“Whoa, mwoya!”  

Startled, you turned to see Loey standing at the end of the hall. His eyes were wide and round one second, and the next he was hitting the wall laughing.

“Ya..!”

Kyungsoo tried to sound serious, but seeing Loey laughing made you laugh which in turn made Kyungsoo laugh. He shook his head.

“Let’s just go back.”

  It was already last call when you got back so you ordered a final round and continued chatting like before. Iseul and Tony joined you and before long your tables were the rowdiest one in the place; laughing, singing, having conversations with people seated the farthest away… It was an awesome hot mess. And in the midst of it all there was him. They way his eyes twinkled when you were telling a story; the way he brushed your hair behind your ear; the way he didn’t mind that all of his friends saw it.

But of course it was inevitable that the lights turned on, and everybody started putting on their jackets, standing in small clusters outside waiting for their people to come out. You and Kyungsoo stood a little off to the side.

“So…” he started.

“Why is it so weird to say goodbye? Like, it was normal five minutes ago..!”

“I know!” Kyungsoo exclaimed. “And it’s not like we’re not gonna see each other again.”

“Yeah, I already have your number.”

“About that...Can I have yours..?”

“What, you think you’re not gonna hear from me? Come on, Soo…”

“No, no. I just think I’m not gonna hear from you as soon as I want to.”

“When’s that, in an hour?”

He laughed and hugged you.

“Yes. Now, are you gonna kiss me goodbye?”

“I’ll never kiss you again if there’s a chance Loey might see...”

“Hey, Loey! Close your eyes.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Just do it, Lo. Two seconds.”

tbc

[ladybugsfanfics]

Awkward Walk In | Tom Hiddleston x reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader | cameo of Emma Hiddleston and her husband Jack 

Style: One Shot

WC: 5672

Warnings: cursing

Prompt: My neighbour’s sibling got the wrong house number and barged into my apartment on accident.

A/N: this one is like so long but i kinda love it? Anyways, hope you guys enjoy ^_^

If you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know.

“...like you’re always stuck in second gear. When it hasn’t been your day, your week, your month, or even your year, but I’ll be there for you.” 

The Friends theme song plays in the background as you finish making your sandwich. After a long week, it’s finally time to just sit down on your couch, watch some ‘in-the-background’ TV and just relax. 

You sit down, snuggle up under a blanket and pull your plate up to under your chin as to not litter crumbs. Something easy to eat on a friday night is just perfect―not that it is night yet, it’s like five PM. 

Despite having the TV on, it’s really not that interesting and after you’re done eating you end up scrolling through your phone. Nothing is really going on, with the exception of everyone talking about the new Spider-Man movie (which you saw on the premiere). 

Friday nights are especially boring when there’s nothing to do. Your friends are all busy so there would be no get together (to be frank, sometimes a night on the couch was rather nice and you would’ve thought that was what you needed after your week, but… life has other ideas). There are your neighbors, one of which you’d grown rather close to and hung out with on occasions. The catch; her older brother is coming to town and he’s rarely home because of his work and she’d said maybe you could come over once but he would probably say no. 

So, you’re left to watch TV or read for the rest of the evening. Or maybe, left to scroll through social media. A shower sounds like a good idea, though. Or maybe a bath―you don’t have a bathtub though which complicates that last one. 

Therefore, it ends with a shower. You use rather a long time to take it. The hot water on your skin cleanses the stress; the little head massage you use to get the shampoo all in is just the perfect thing; taking the time to shave actually felt nice for once. To be able to not rush was perfect. 

Not having taken with you any clothes to when you’re done, you make sure you’re completely dry before getting out and going to your closet. Since you’re not doing anything other than slouch on the couch, you decide to skip taking on a bra―what’s the point they’re just annoying. 

You’ve managed to take on a pair of boxers (it’s way comfortable) before you’re door bursts open and a tall, handsome male comes in. “I’m really sorry I'm late―” He stops mid sentence and you’ve barely managed to react with anything but slowly cover your boobs. 

“I think you’re in the wrong apartment,” you say. How you can possibly be this calm―because the man has practically seen you naked!―you don’t know. To be honest, you had imagined it on multiple occasions as a chance meeting, but you’d never thought it could ever happen. Of course, the difference between those little dreams were the little sex ending, but that’s not really the whole big deal, right?

He flushes red, looks around and nods. “I think you might be correct. Do you know where Emma Hiddleston lives?”

You nod. “Yeah. She’s the apartment across the hall.” So this is the older brother, mind you, Emma, did you maybe do this on purpose? The girl had mentioned that he was single on more than one occasion; maybe she had hinted to something. 

“She must’ve pressed the wrong number, probably,” he said. He purses his lips and nods again, but he doesn’t leave. 

“Weren’t you late?” you ask, hoping that you can stop covering your breasts, get on some clothes and text Emma that she better have a good excuse. 

His eyes widen and he nods. “Yes, I am. Again, so sorry.” And then he turns and leaves, closing the door after him. 

You sigh and put on some clothes―a big t-shirt and some ‘sweater shorts’ as you like to call them. Basically shorts but really baggy and kind of cute and highly comfortable. Having clothes on, you turn the lock on your door so no one can suddenly burst into your apartment again. You also make a mental note to always do that. 

You take a last trip to the bathroom, getting your glasses―no twenty-twenty vision here―and finally get down to the couch to sit and watch some more Netflix. Whilst more episodes of Friends play in the background, you find Emma’s number in your contacts. 

You: Emma! Emma! EMMA!

Surprisingly, she replies right away. 

Emma: What? Something wrong?

You: Yes! Very much so, and I would prefer not to do this over phone but youre brothers visiting you so like, this might be my only option!

Emma: Hes busy, I can come over for like five minutes

You: Then come!

You stand up and lock open the door. It takes another ten seconds before Emma opens it and comes inside. She looks at you expectantly. “What’s going on?”

You take a deep breath. “Your brother. He’s tall, kinda good looking, wears like a blue jacket, I don’t know brands but I think like Ralph Lauren? And like black jeans and a white tee?”

Emma nods. “How… how do you know this?” She shakes her head. “You haven’t even seen any of his movies.”

“Nope, still haven’t. Uh, just he kind of came into my apartment,” you say. You look down at your feet and mumble, “and I was wearing only boxers.”

“No!” She practically yells. “No. He did no…” Emma looks at you incredibly, seeming to have lost her voice. 

“Yeah, that happened.” You nod slowly. “He’s hot, though,” you add and shrug. 

Emma playfully hits your arm. “Fuck,” she says. “Just… don’t tell me if you two start dating, please. He’s amazing and you couldn’t do better but it would be so weird.”

You let out a laugh. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“Don’t be so sure. I know you’re his type.” She gives you a small, pained smile and leaves. And all you can think about for the rest of the night, is her little I know you’re his type. 

 __________

For the nth time you check the clock. 12.39 AM. Netflix has stopped with the ‘Are you still watching?’ question. Shrugging halfheartedly, you press continue and watch another episode. It’s Friday night, you’ve got nothing planned all weekend. It can’t hurt. 

Well, it can. You’ve already fallen asleep three times. It’s safe to say you’re tired, you just don’t want to move from the couch, nor do you want to actually go to bed. Sounds tempting, but really, you don’t feel like it. 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You frown at your door. Who the hell knocks on someone's door an hour after midnight? Nevertheless, you feel intrigued and move to open it. Since it’s so late, it’s a shame you don’t have a peephole, who knows what the person on the other side wants?

So, you have other means to figure out. “Uh, who is it?” 

There’s a shuffle on the other side. A light cough. “It’s, uhh, the male from earlier.”

Your eyes widen, but knowing it’s Emma’s older brother, you don’t fear his intentions. The lock turns with a click and you open the door to see said male nervously staring at his feet. He’s lost the jacket he had the first time you met. This way, you could see the white tee cling to his torso in ways you hadn’t expected. 

He looks up at you. “Did I wake you? Emma said you usually stay up late on weekends and I felt for, uh,” he scratches his neck, “apollogizing.”

“No, you didn’t wake me.” You open the door further. “Come in, maybe we can talk it out so it isn’t so awkward.” What the fuck is happening to me? Since when did I get so smooth? I’ve never been smooth? This guy is hot as fuck and I’m not even stuttering? Or blushing? Or anything else to signal he’s nice? Your mind races with questions on how the hell you can be calm; there is no way this isn’t a dream. 

“Okay.” He steps inside and you close the door after him. “I am really sorry. Emma saw her mistake after you told her. Though, to be honest, she might have done it on purpose.”

You smile at him. “It’s fine. And I’m sure she did.” You walk to the kitchen. “Can I offer anything to drink?”

“Water is fine,” he says.

“No, don’t be silly. I have wine?” You take two glasses out of the cupboard. Where is this confidence coming from? 

Emma’s brother comes closer. “I guess I don’t have a choice,” he replies. 

You nod. “Correct. By the way, not sure if Emma told you, but name’s Y/N.” You pour two glasses and put the bottle back into the fridge. 

“No, she didn’t. Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Tom,” he says and accepts the glass you hand him. As he says your name, you can’t help but feel it roll of his tongue rather perfectly. 

You take a sip of wine. “So, wanna sit?” You point to the couch. “I’ll turn off the TV, too, maybe.” A chuckle escapes as you make to do just that. The remote control, on the other hand, doesn’t agree because you can’t find it. 

“Looking for this?” Tom asks and waves the remote your way. You nod, take it from him and turn of the TV. 

“Thanks,” you say. Despite your confidence (like what’s happening; you’re even wearing sweater shorts, an oversized t-shirt and no bra) from before, the air hangs for a while. You quietly sit and sip your wine. Tom does the same.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea? No, screw it, you’re gonna do this. Maybe life will take a turn for the better. 

You set down your glass on the coffee table. “Sorry about the mess,” you say, noticing that it is, in fact, not clean at all anywhere. 

“That’s fine,” replies Tom. “Not like you knew I would come.”

“Yeah. It’s like one am so can’t say I expected company,” you say. “But I don’t mind. Don’t really have anything better to do either. Maybe sleep, but I wasn’t gonna do that.”

Tom chuckles. “You sound like a college student,” he says. “Or just maybe someone who struggles with sleeping.”

You nod. “You’re looking at an insomniac, yup.”

“You have any help?” he asks. 

“Tried a lot of things, nothing’s worked so far.” You tuck your feet under you, turning more of your body towards Tom. “Kinda given up now.”

Tom takes a sip of wine. “Sorry to hear that.” Then he straightens up and puts down the glass. “Anyways, it’s late and I came here to apologize so that’s what I’ll do.”

You let out a small laugh. “I’m more than ready to hear this,” you say. 

“I am really sorry I barged in. Really, there is no excuse. Usually, I knock, but Emma told me a long time ago to just walk straight in, and I was already late―she cooked and it was cold when I actually could eat it―and I don’t know any other words to use other than sorry. It is probably the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”

You smile, finding him rather cute in his explaining. “Don’t worry about it,” you reply. “You didn’t see anything? At least, like a lot of anything?”

He blushes. Oh, my god! What a cute blush! “I might’ve seen something. But really, you have nothing to be embarrassed about, you are really beautiful.”

“O.M.G. Some movie star called me beautiful,” you say, and smile at him. “Thanks. Don’t know how I stayed calm during it all, but there’s a lot I do I can’t explain.”

He lets out a laugh, this little ‘hehe’ sound, and his mouth draws into a big smile. You can’t not look at his lips as his tongue graces over the lower one. “Well, as someone who’s not an insomniac, it’s getting late and I have a couch waiting for me.” Tom stands up and smiles. “Thanks for the chat, and for being this cool about me barging in on you.”

Your eyes crinkle as you smile at him. “You’re welcome. Don’t hesitate to come by again.” You stand up to follow him out―not that that’s necessary since it’s two meters from the couch to the door, but there’s something in the gesture. 

“I won’t,” he says and slips out. 

You lock the door behind him, sigh and bite your lip. God, he’s…. something.

 __________

The sunlight shines through your blinds, basking your apartment in an orange-gold filter. You groggily turn around, drag the cover over your head and press your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to continue sleeping. It’s futile. 

You throw the cover away and turn around on your back, looking up into the ceiling. Annoyed you blow away the hair covering your face and let out a tired sigh. You check the clock. 11.00 AM. God, it’s way too early. 

After Tom left, the clock being one am, you’d turned on the TV again. Not before four am had you actually gone to bed. Only to lie there for an eternity trying to find the right position, the right temperature―cover here or not? Yes, but not there. Fuck, like that one spot doesn’t need it, get off (that one spot was like on your leg and that’s hard to not have a cover over when the rest of your leg needs one. And, yeah, with a mind racing over endless possibilities of the future days, angst filled possibilities.

Safe to say, you’d probably gotten a good five hours of sleep. Six if you’re lucky. There goes the hope of sleeping in. 

Even though you’re awake, instead of getting out of a warm and comfy bed, you find your phone on the nightstand and start to scroll through instagram. Nothing really special had happened since you’d done the exact same thing at two in the morning, but there is still something to it.  Being bored, tumblr seems the better place, though. 

Instead of the usual feed scroll and trending scroll, you decide to do some research. In the search bar you type in his name. Tom Hiddleston.

The first thing that came up is a gifset of said man with longer black hair, slicked back to reveal his ears. Scrolling further down you can see it’s how he looks playing Loki. Something goes off inside you, an alarm of a kind. If he plays Loki―everything’s tagged with marvel―that means he has to be pretty popular. 

Most of what you see, is of him playing Loki. More gifsets, some text post you don’t bother reading―you haven’t seen the movie it’s about so what’s the point―Benedict Cumberbatch’s name pops up (nice, you’ve seen Sherlock) and then there’s a picture of Tom, but different than the one you met. Instead of curly, grown hair and a beard, in the photo he has shorter hair with small curls at the top and the start of a beard-growth. He looks pretty damn good. You double tap and see the heart come up. 

After about an hour or so of scrolling through tumblr (you stopped with the Tom tag after awhile, maybe rather get to know him?), you decide to get out of bed. It takes strength you don’t really have and the trip into the kitchen to get something to drink is a lot longer than you remembered. 

You sigh as you take the time to make coffee. As it brews, you open your fridge to check the contents. Although you were in the store yesterday after work so as to not have to today, you still don’t really feel like anything in it seems like breakfast food. Pretty annoyingly, your gut growls. Fuck, you think and make a grimace as you peek further inside. There’s not even any leftovers to heat up and eat. Everything has to be made. 

“Argg.” You take a deep breath and let out a sigh, one where your lips flap and a small, annoyed sound, comes out. Without much choice, you decide that coffee alone is breakfast and take with you a cup and settle into the couch. The wine glasses you and Tom drank of yesterday are still there. 

Another sigh escapes your lips (looks like it’s one of those days) as you turn on the TV, let your head fall back and think about everything you should be doing but probably won’t do. Much of that is cleaning. 

 __________

“Hey, Y/N.” It pounds on your door as you hear Emma’s voice. You turn down the music from your speaker as you make your way there. Despite previous statements of not going to clean, that is exactly what you’re doing. Currently, it’s the bathroom and it sucks. 

You open the door to a casually dressed Emma. She gives you a smile and a frown. “What’s up?” you ask. 

She eyes you from top to toe. “What are you doing?” she asks, the confusion spread across her face to highlight it. 

“Cleaning,” you reply shortly. 

She lets out a huff. “Okay, well, I was wondering if you wanted to join me, Jack and Tom out for lunch?” she asks. 

“Going out means I have to change, I have to stop cleaning the bathroom and I have to actually go out.” You nod as you list the things. “As much as I would like to not clean, I kind of feel like I have to see this through and I don’t really want to go out, so no thanks on lunch. What about dinner? Tonight, here? It’ll be clean.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Fine, but like, don’t cook. Order.”

You give her an offended stare. “I can cook,” you say. “I won’t though because I don’t have the food for four people in here, but I can cook. You’ve tasted my food.”

“I’ve tasted your brownies. They’re heaven on earth, but I haven’t tasted anything else and since you’re the person who’s made the fire alarm go most in this building I don’t trust you.” She laughs. 

“I haven’t done that in three months,” you defend. 

“Yeah, and that’s not something to be proud of.”

“Well, to me it’s got to be some sort of record, so like, are you sure I’m not going to be proud?” Before she can answer you wave it away. “Anyway, dinner here at eight? Pizza sound fine?”

She nods. “Yup, no weird things. No pineapple,” she says and points at you strictly. 

“You got it. Text me what you guys want on and how hungry you are, please. Two big ones sounds fine, yeah?”

“Honestly, I’ll just text you toppings and it’ll probably be fine. We’ll bring something to drink, though.” She raises a brow at you. 

“Good ‘cause I got like wine, and that’s it.”

“Water?” 

You wave at her. “Doesn’t count.”

She shakes her head at you and smiles. “See you tonight.”

“Bye.”

 __________

07.27 PM. Finally done. 

You look at what was before a Mess™ and smile at the relaxation that falls upon the room. The coffee table is clean, only a book and a napkin holder―now full―on it. The kitchen, which has a dining room table, has no leftover dishes to do or old bread sitting on the counter collecting dust. The chair in the corner, also by your wardrobe that doesn’t fit in your bedroom, is finally free to use and not covered in clothes. And, the biggest ‘wow’ of all, your bed is made. 

The only thing not done is ordering pizza and getting dressed. You do the ordering first; two big pizzas with ham and pepperoni―the trio coming over didn’t have any preferences so you decide to go with something you know pretty much everyone likes. You also order dressing on the side. 

And then, with about fifteen minutes to spare, you go around to change. You should’ve taken a shower, but instead it becomes a last minute wash with a cloth and soap. Of course, the biggest question of all is what to wear. A very handsome guy you would like to fuck is coming over, but so is his sister and her husband and they’re your friends. How to be respectable and also tease the guy who has seen your boobs?

In the end, you end up wearing a pair of white, high-waist shorts (it’s summer) with a black belt that all around has holes in it and looks rather edgy and cool. With it, you go with a black crop top that accentuates your boobs but doesn’t look too much, and with that, you put on a flannel hooded jacket because you’ve had it forever and it looks great, plus takes away some of the flirty part of the look you know Emma won’t approve of. 

When you’re done the clock strikes 8.03. You find something to pay for pizza with, putting it in your pocket to make the whole ordeal easier, and you take out some dishes and―despite it being a disgrace―put out a fork and knife because who knows. You also find some glasses that you set the table with (not wine glasses, however you do have more of those than the ones you do use). 

And by that time, there’s a knock on the door. 

With nothing that can be called grace, you open the door and let the three in. Neither of them is wearing anything more fancy than you, but you do feel underdressed in some way. Emma wears a pair of blue jeans and a white tee with a denim jacket over. Jack has a pair of black jeans a white tee, no jacket. Tom, fuck, wears a pair of black jeans with a shirt that fits tightly to his chest, no tie and the top button opened―just the best freaking way to elude sexiness. 

Emma shakes her head at your outfit and Jack tries to hide a laugh as both of you catches Tom giving you a once over. After that, the difference in outfits doesn’t bother you as much; you got the reaction you wanted. 

“Pizza isn’t here yet, but it should be here any minute now,” you say and open up for them to come inside. 

Emma hands you a bag. “Soda, mostly, with a little surprise. And that’s totally okay,” she says as you take it. “But I hope it comes fast because I am hungry.”

Jack and Tom both nod in agreement. 

“Good, because I am, too,” you say. “Can I get you something to drink while we wait? I got what’s in the bag and wine.” You shuffle your way to the kitchen, putting the bottles in the fridge so they can keep the cold. 

“What about water?” asks Tom. 

You shake your head. “I don’t have that.” 

“What’s this then?” The man steps up to your sink and turns on the water. Perfectly fine drinking water comes out of the tap. 

“No,” you say, and turn it off. “There’s a rule that guests aren’t allowed to drink water because I want to be fancy.” 

Both Emma and Jack laugh at that, and you notice Tom trying to keep his cool but failing a bit. 

“Good luck with that,” says Emma and sits down. 

“Thanks. It’s worked so far.” You smile at her. Your phone vibrates in your pocket. “Ey, pizza’s here. Help yourself to the drinks, I’ll be right back.” You motion to the fridge and go off to get the pizza. 

You hope Tom doesn’t think you an absolute fool for saying no to water, but to be honest, you have no idea. 

 __________

“The worst part is that time you came to me for a band aid because you’d cut yourself at a pack of cheese,” says Emma and laughs. 

You stare wide eyed at her. “Why would you say that?” you hiss through gritted teeth. 

Neither Tom nor Jack manage to keep their laughter. “How?” asks Jack. 

“I don’t know. I just did it,” you reply, throwing your hands into the air. “I think it was about to fall of the counter and when I saved it I cut myself on, like, the hard part of it, one of the edges.”

“Still counts to your clumsiness,” says Emma. “What more could you have done?”

You sigh and busy yourself with one of the leftover slices of pizza. It’s grown cold, but it helps in not wanting to focus on Emma’s dead set mind on embarrassing you. 

“Oh!” She lights up. “I have another one, but it’s not about Y/N.” She turns to her brother with a smirk. “It’s about Tom.”

He sinks down in his chair and mutter an ‘oh God’ as Emma starts talking. 

“We were kids, don’t remember exactly how old, but I think I was around nine, making you fourteen.” You see on Tom’s face that he knows what she’s about to tell. “It was summer vacation and, uhh, we were at the beach. The only reason he and Sarah agreed to take me with them was because Mum promised they’d get another day without me. Tom, being his lovely teenager self, thought himself rather handsome and tried to pick up this girl. Only problem is he wasn’t as smooth as he’d like to imagine, and as the two of them walked into the water, instead of walking, he tripped over his own feet and fell face first. When he got up, he had a cut up his arm and the girl, who could’ve helped him, rolled her eyes and walked away.”

Tom sinks further down in his chair. “Why did you have to tell that story?” he asks and sends Emma a typical sibling glare, which Emma returns with a typical sibling smile saying ‘I know you love me’. 

You giggle at the story, not being able to keep the laughter in. “Well, now we have stories about me, Tom and Jack. Where are all the stories about Emma?” You raise a brow at the two people who knows her the best. 

Both men look down and make faces, probably in thought. Jack looks up first. “I have none. I know she’s suddenly had a band aid somewhere but she won’t ever tell why.”

Emma smiles devilishly. You actually recognize it as similar to one of the gifs of Loki you saw on tumblr. Maybe there’s some of that in the actual Tom as well, you think and bite your lower lip. 

“I have stories of our childhood, but none are really that embarrassing. Rather, I have one that she doesn’t remember, but all she really did was run around naked in our garden with the neighbour boy. We have video, though, that makes it better. But she was three years old, that doesn’t count for embarrassment.” Tom smiles, but it’s rather fond than anything else. 

“This sucks. She knows so much and we know nothing,” you say and squint at the girl across the table.

The girl just smiles widely. “Anyways, it’s getting late,” she says, looking at the clock. You do the same, seeing the long handle on eleven and the little one nearly on twelve. That was four hours around the same table, just chatting. Huh, how time passes when you’re having fun. 

“I hadn’t even realised,” says Tom. You all get out of your chair, and―old habits die hard―you take the dishes with you to the sink. Tom helps by taking the glasses, putting them down beside you. “I had fun,” he says, voice low and near inaudible. 

You nod. “Yeah, me too.” You shoot him a smile and get back to following the three out of your apartment. At least they don’t have a long ride or anything so there’s no feeling guilty for it being so long. 

“This was great. Gotta do this more often,” Emma says and gives you a hug goodbye. Jack nods in agreement and does the same. 

“We should. But let’s take it at your place because cleaning this shithole took more energy than I anticipated.” You let out a laugh and smile at them. 

Emma chuckles. “Yeah, sure. But an excuse for you to clean really is all you need to clean, right?”

You shake your head, annoyed at her constant correctness. “Get out, okay? It’s been a long day.” 

She smiles and the two of them walk over, giving slight room for Tom to say goodbye on his own. 

He stops by the door, leaning against the wall with a cheeky smile. “I would love to join the time you do this again,” he says. 

“Yeah,” you nod, “it was a lot of fun having you here. Wish you’d had more stories of Emma, though. She needs to be brought down a notch.” 

He laughs. The same ‘hehe’ from the night before. His mouth draws into a wide grin, though the tongue doesn’t appear. “I’ll see what I can do. There’s always Sarah, and Mum.”

“Yeah, your mother probably has the best stories though. Mother’s have a flair for that.” You smile at him. “Guess I’ll see you when you leave here, right?”

“Of course. I won’t leave without a goodbye.” His eyes crinkle as his mouth draws into a softer smile. “Will you be able to sleep when I go? Now, not leave-leave.”

You shrug. “Don’t know. Why?”

“I’m not feeling very tired, thought I could keep you with company if you wanted,” he says. 

“Never gonna say no to that. Now it’s clean after all.” You smile at him, and the tall man closes the door to your apartment from the inside. “What would you like to do? And can I offer you more to drink?”

He chuckles. “Whatever you feel like doing is fine by me, and perhaps, a glass of wine?” 

“Done, and done.”

 __________

You’re not really sure how you ended up in the position, but you’re sitting cozily in the crook of Tom’s arm. Surprisingly, with his toned chest, he is still rather soft to lie upon. The TV plays in the background, but you don’t focus on it. Instead, you’re focused on Tom.. How his hand mindlessly plays with yours. How his breathing is even and the quiet thump-thump of his heart. How he seems so focused on the screen when nothing really interesting actually happens. 

But, having been deprived of cuddles and the like for so long, you welcome it all with no questions. 

“It’s getting late.” His voice speaks softly in your ear, his breath cold on your neck. 

“Yeah,” you reply. 

Neither of you get up. Neither turns off the TV. Neither says anything more. 

 __________

For the first time in ages, you wake up feeling rested, feeling like you’ve gotten enough sleep. Groggily opening your eyes, you notice you’re in your bed. The last thing you can remember from the night before is lying in Tom’s embrace, changing a position so you can rest your head in his lap (on top of a pillow) and his long fingers gently combing through your hair. 

You smile at the thought of him carrying you into your room, and also look around for him. Who’s to say he didn’t stay? But he’s not there. 

Checking the clock and seeing it say 02.07 PM makes that more than understandable. Not only do you feel rested but you’ve actually managed to sleep in. Despite how good it feels, you can’t help but question it; Why now? And what did I do differently? 

You don’t have the answer to the questions and instead of pondering it further, you get out of the bed and drag yourself into the kitchen. There, on the other hand, you find Tom with a cup of coffee and his phone. He looks up as he hears you. 

“Good morning,” he says, “feeling okay?”

You nod, not sure if your voice actually works just yet. 

He chuckles. “I took the couch, if you wondered,” he adds. 

So he’d slept over. That’s something to note. But, you’d fallen asleep on him, why would he see it a problem to join you in bed? You would literally only sleep. Maybe he felt he would impose, it is an awfully small bed for two people. 

“You’re sure Emma isn’t worried about you? You came to see her, right?” You finally found your voice, and a cup of coffee is quickly in your hands as you ask. 

“She knocked on the door this morning and asked. I believe the only thing she was actually worried about was if we would,” he blushes, “do something.”

You sip the warm liquid. “Really? So, what about the coming-to-see-her part?”

“I saw her all Friday, all yesterday and I will probably see her today as well,” he replies. “And, well, I have to make up for walking in on you somehow. I believe keeping you company does that.”

“Thanks for that, by the way.” You sit down in the chair across from him. “Actually feel like I’ve gotten some sleep for once.”

His smile widens. “That’s good. Me as a pillow worked?” He purses his lips, sticks his tongue out for a quick walk (honestly, he has to stop). 

“Yeah, that worked. How long are you staying? You leaving today?” 

“I’m staying another couple of nights. Leaving Tuesday, why?” 

You take a bigger sip of the coffee, feeling in need of some boost. “I was thinking,” you start and avert your gaze from him, “if you’re not busy during the night, that maybe you could be my pillow again.”

His eyes wrinkle as he smiles at you, this genuine god-awful kind smile that makes it hard to swallow, hard not to look at him. “For as long as I’m here, I’ll happily be your pillow.”

Taglist: @inlovewith3 @mindlesschicca @bookgirlunicorn

[nhlhoser]

On The Rocks - 26

Part 25  Masterlist

3816 WC

Swearing and emotions

Getting out of bed was easier yet still hard with my lack of energy and still sore body.

Deciding to yield Noahs instructions to get out of the room and try to get breakfast, I head to the bathroom to shower first and wash some of this sick off my skin and get a fresh start but also tame my horribly gross hair.

Gingerly I heave myself off the bed on shaky legs and sore muscles.

My legs don't give out on me but it's a damn near thing when my bare feet are shocked by the change from carpet to cold tile. My movements are stiff as I maneuver around the bathroom, arranging the towels to be easy to grab when I come out and one on the floor so I don't create a puddle.

Stepping into the shower the hot water is almost too hot but feels amazing on my skin and my tight muscles. Stretching my arms above my head a series of pops rattle down my spine and through my shoulders, releasing tension as the hot water works on melting the rest.

Working on my hair is rough with my lack of mobility but I eventually am able to free the knots from my gross hair with the products I recognize from the shower I had at Austons over the weekend. He must have snuck them in here before he accidentally woke me up.

Standing under the water for a couple moments longer, I don't want to get out yet because as much as I want to believe that I am relaxed right now, I know I am not as the weight of the water hitting my shoulders, chest, and face is heavier than it is in reality.

My ever-present anxiety is growing larger than it's been in a long time as I usually have a better handle on it but the energy I am executing just by being sick- makes it impossible to ignore the nagging pain in my chest that could only be explained by my anxiety and illness.

My energy level makes me just want to lay in bed for the rest of the forsee-able future and avoid life all together but I can' exactly do that right now being that : I am not even in my own country, I'm ill and have to leave my room for it to be cleaned but also I have to get on another plane in the next day or two too go home and maybe then I will be able to wallow in my own self-pity and get my emotion in order.

I have to get myself under control before I lose it again but HOW? I could call my brother or maybe my dad but that would stir even more stress and drama as my dad would hope on the next flight and throttle the entire Leafs management staff and probably anyone that may try and stop him.

Even then I don't usually involve anyone in my own problems I kinda just deal with them or accept that they are there but right now it's too prominent to ignore. Maybe, I should involve someone that is already aware of some of what is going on?

Noah? He'll probably think of the medical aspect rather than the emotional side and may not understand.

Any of the guys are just out of question because of playoffs and thats just a lot on their plate already plus they barely know me.

You've started to let Auston in already.......

A small voice whispers temptingly more aware than I am.

But he has hockey to worry about I reason with my own inner thought.

yes, but he there's already something he wants to say, we don't have to really say much. What he wants to talk about could ease us enough to get us back to Toronto. If not we have Ricky who we could rant to because he cares you know. We need to let someone in before we break.

Whatever part of my brain this is, it is really sad.

I'm your heart, you need to listen to me more.

Maybe.

Shutting off the water I stand in the tub a moment longer staring at my hands still holding onto the tap. Purple and yellow bruising from boxing the day before last and the scars from the years gone by resembling how my heart might look if ripped from my chest- something I'm scared someone might just actually do if I let them in.

Stepping out it's much easier to move and faster thankfully because the air is cold against my damp skin as I wrap a towel around my middle and twist my hair into another. Catching myself in the mirror I definitely look as sick as I feel, my complexion pale but my cheeks flushed slightly pink from the fever and my eyes slightly sunken with dark bags beneath them.

Sliding into a pair of my new leggings and Austons shirt, I lay on the bed staring at the ceiling again, my energy almost spent just from the shower. My mind still overworked by the panic attack earlier with Noah, the urge to scream wrapped around my neck like a cord again but this time producing fat tears and a gasp for breath that pulled on my sore diaphragm as more tears leak from eyes and down to my ears. (A/N: if you've ever cried well laying on your back this is a chilling experience)

The memory is nothing new but it hasn't been brought up in a long time and it still scares me just as much the first time when I thought it was just some nightmare my brain had conjured up due to trauma but when I told my dad about it he sorrowfully correct that even though I don't even to this day understand it completely it was something that did happen.

The memory is the last of my mother but also it was the last of a couple month period after my 16th birthday due to an injury that I have no memory or details of. With the help of the little family I had around me and a patient-therapist I was about to mend a life for myself

A swift knock on the door startles me from my trance and back into reality, still staring at the ceiling now dry-eyed.

"Who is it?" My voice sounded hoarse with the edge of being broken on the inside.

"Auston," came barely audible through the door. "Can I come in?" followed only this time a little bit louder..

"Do you still have a key?" I move to be sitting on the edge of the bed, my face in my faces as I work on wiping away the tears with my palms.

"Uhm..Yeah?" He sounded almost sheepish

"Come in," My voice still hoarse and ragged. My heart rate spikes as the sound of Auston unlocking the door registered in my brain that someone is going to see me like this.

In a last stitch effort for whatever composure I can must I run my hands through my damp hair, dragging the strands from my face with a deep breath as the door opens revealing Auston- a loaded shopping bag in hand.

"Gatorade and- you're up?" Auston's step stuttered a little bit as his eyes landed on my freshly showered hair instead of the mess he last saw.

"Up is a bit of an over-exaggeration," I mumbled laying back down in a huff, watching Auston continue into the room a small frown on his lips.

"How are you? Now?" Setting the bag on the floor Auston sits and lays on the bed parallel to me and turns his head to face me.

"Honestly?" My voice cracks under the emotion I've pent up as I turn my face to look him the eye, they're soft and full of concern.

"Fucking shit," a sarcastic laugh follows my brief confession with a small tear falling down my cheek before I could wipe it away Auston's rough thumb swipes it away for me and continues to my right cheek with his left hand tenderly.

The sheer tenderness of the moment and the level of vulnerability oozing from both of us causes a rough sob to wrack through my chest, my eyes squeezing closed in an attempt to hold back the floodgates a little bit longer.

This prompts something in Auston to move from just holding my face to wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest, holding me with a strong yet soft force. His hand starts to work through my hair slowly in a calming manner trying to soothe me, as a painful hiccup jars my extremely sore diaphragm.

Whimpering at the pain Auston pulls me in tighter and continues to run his hands through my hair and over the pulse on my neck to cradle my head his large hand as he pulls back to examine my face. Opening my eyes I am met with his searching eyes as they scan over my face, his eyebrows draw in creating a crease to form on his forehead.

"From being sick?" Auston's tone suggested that he knew that it might be more than just the flu I've been dealing with causing my meltdown.

"No," I sniffled.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not yet,"

"Okay. I'll wait," Auston pulled me in so my ear rested on his chest again.

The sound of his heartbeat lulling me back in peace and almost sleep if the fact I need to get out of the room for a bit popped back in my head and that Auston started to speak.

"I'm sorry for withdrawing before leaving.It's just the playoff's made me feel a new level of nervous that scared the absolute shit out of me. I needed to get my mind in order and that caused some casualties on the way," His voice vibrated through his chest as he laughs nervously. "You know who shined the light in my eyes?" he added.

"Mitch?"

"Well, he definitely was part of it but I was talking to mom after you left that night and I might have been ignoring her also and she was not having it and she tore me a couple news one but when she calmed down she asked me about you,"

"Me?" I pull up surprised that Ema Matthews even knew i existed. "why?"

"You made that dinner that I could heat up and have them over instead of going out - which totally shocked them- but anyways she knew it wasn't me that made the food and it couldn't have been ordered because it was made in the dishes she bought for me-"

"She also knows you can't cook for shit," I added interrupting him.

"Rude but I told her about how you had agreed to make me hot dinners and when she called to rip me a new and was civil again she asked what I had to eat and when I told her I just had dinner you made for me- she told me to thank you for her and I realized I didn't even thank you," The volume of Auston's voice drops through the story as he starts to sound awkward and sheepish.

"Then Mitch text me saying 'Fix it' with zero contexts but followed up with the information you just got home and were withdrawn," Auston kind of nervous laughing now,

"So, this is me fixing it. I really didn't mean to be a dick,"

"It's okay Auston but let's go down a get breakfast and hope Noah doesn't catch you in here and scold you because you might catch this," I reminded the boy with a fake sternness in my voice.

"You never told me to leave," Auston whispered in my hair sounding sleepy.

"I know," I signed relaxing into his arms even further as the sound of his heartbeat and soft breathing started to coax my eyes into closing. Breathing in the scent of detergent, cologne and generally, the smell didn't help either.

"Auston," I whispered earning a soft groan to rumble in his chest. "Let's goooo" I whined as I dragged my body off of his regretfully and standing in front of his legs still dangling off the bed. I press my knees to his and push with some force.

"Aus, Come one," I grab his wrists I tug and he finally opens his eyes and sits up staring up at me with a look in his eyes I can't place but it feels meaningful. Slowly he circles his arms around me again and presses the palm of his hands into my back pulling me into an embrace so his face is nestled against my collarbone and neck sort of.

My breath hitches slightly as a knot tyes in the back of my throat at the sudden rush of emotions from being held so tenderly. A small gasp escapes me as Auston's arms tighten as if he can sense the sudden rush of my emotions.

He probably heard the spike in my heart rate from where his ear is resting.

Returning the embrace my arms rest on his shoulders and my hands going into his hair as I held his head against me, resting my forehead on the top of his hair like he had done earlier.

Pulling his head back slightly my hands drifted to rest on the nape of his neck and slightly under his jaw as his eyes hold mine in what feels like a loaded moment to only have it interrupted by a knock on the door of my room.

"Who is it?" I instinctively put my hand over Auston's mouth even though he hasn't made a sound.

"It's Noah," My eyes widen slightly then glared into Austons "I didn't see downstairs and wanted to make sure you were alright,"

"I'm fine. I just got of the shower, I just need to get dressed and I'll be down," Implying that I'm naked got a rise out of Auston as his shoulders shook slightly and he raised a questioning brow at me.

"Oh-Okay see you down there then," Noah soundly sheepish as his footsteps could be heard walking away from the door and down the hall.

Pulling my hand away from Auston's grinning mouth he shakes his head at me with the same brow raised.

"You have to go down first because we can't show up at the same time," I said as I stepped back giving the still grinning Auston Room to stand to his full height.

"What?" I questioned when he just kept giving me that look as I grabbed my sweater and pulled it over Auston's long sleeve to stop the chill on my skin.

"He totally just thought of you naked," I pulled the rest of the hoodie over my head quickly as I stared at Auston wide-eyed.

"He did not," stuffing my keycard and phone in my pockets I grab a Gatorade and wait for Auston at the door. "Come on breakfast," I signaled Auston through the door.

"I'm a guy I know for a fact that he did," He commented passing into the hall before me with a smug smirk. "Because I know I would of," He stated just as smug.

"Go eat," I waved him off as my feverish face turns even redder. Auston walks away laughing, I close the door again and rest my heated face against the cool surface to get composure back.

"He's the worst," I groan into the door with mild bitch fit before I school my breathing and feature to calm and collect before re-opening the door and leaving the room stuffing the Gatorade in my hoodie pocket.

Walking into the slightly crowded restaurant despite the fact food service just started, the scent of food assaults my senses and instantly causes a split reaction in my stomach; Hunger and nausea. A shiver runs down my spine as I fight the urge to gag and end up coughing instead.

Shaking it off, I walk towards the food with a grimace as the smell gets stronger making me breathe through my mouth rather than my nose to stop the smell from connecting to my sore stomach. I view the different foods in awe and sadness as they all look so delicious but I can't stomach much or any of it yet.

Drifting passed all the warm yummy foods, I end up grabbing a banana, plain toast, and a mint tea.

The other food just too harsh for my recovering stomach and throat.

"Amelia," the ginger goalie appeared to my left quietly. "How are you? Auston practically describes that you were dead," Freddie gently threw an arm around my shoulders and rubbed my arm soothingly with a teasing smile on his face. Cleary seeing that I am not dead

"I feel like it thats for sure," The rasp in my voice visibly hits Freddie's ears as he winced and chirped that I sounded like it too, his arms still around me as he guilds me to the same table as yesterday where Auston is residing with plate a of half eaten food and a mug of what I'd guess to be coffee.

Settling in the same seat as yesterday, I arrange to face the boys with my back against the wall taking my Gatorade out of pocket and cracking the deal and taking a test sip of the sweet drink. My stomach doesn't react prompting another but still small sip, the cool fluid providing relief for my sore throat.

Setting the bottle on the table with a sigh both of the hockey players are staring with pitiful eyes and a grimace, Sticking my tongue out at them they look away with small smirks and continue to eat.

The banana goes down without resistance as does a little bit of tea but my stomach starts to have a fit when I go to pick up the toast. The smells stopped bothering my stomach so didn't try and push what little comfort I achieve as I sip my tea absorbed in whatever conversation is happening around me.

Couple more bodies had joined us with plates overflowing with nutrient foods and some chirps about me not being in as bad of a state as Auston had described to which Auston would defend if they'd been there and I saying that I sure as hell still felt like death.

My body was still remarkably sore especially my diaphragm that is putting a damper on my breathing because it hurts. My body shifts between hot and cold about six times in a minute that doesn't go unnoticed when my cheeks get really red then I start shivering.

Matt was watching me from the end of the table with worried eyes but I waved him off which brought the curious eyes of Mitch and Wiliam as my cheeks started to flare again then to cuddle into my layers.

The conversation was steady and light currently on the subject of Auston's ripped jeans and shoe collection being bigger than some of their girlfriends but Auston just rolls his eyes at them.

Resting the back of my head against the wall, my eyes start to droop with the need to sleep again and the comfortable feel of safety the guys surrounding me provide with their slightly intimidating size even Mitch.

"Noah hooked her up to banana bag and saline last night," Austons voice was soft as he whispered to the table. "She was puking all night," There was a deep layer of concern in his voice.

"Poor girl, Shouldn't she be in bed?" Matt's mature side coming out as he joined the whispering and some sounds of approval with i'd guess nodding along.

"Noah advised for her to get out of the room so the cleaning service could come through and for her to try to get some food or fluid," Auston's sparknote version of what I told him earlier. The conversation lulled as only typing on phone could be heard.

"It says here, Banana, Rice, Applesauce, and Toast are the most recommend things for someone with the flu to eat," Mitch recited smartly.

"I think she already knew that," William whispered.

"I did," I added not opening my eyes and getting comfortable in my little corner and preparing to actually sleep this time. "At least wait for me to actually fall asleep before you start talking about me, " A tired smile pulled lamely at the edges of my lips as I pull the hood up over my head and ended over my eyes.

I do actually end up falling asleep this time with my head resting against the wall, legs stretched out in front of me knocking someone's ankles, and the neck of the sweater pulled over my nose.

That lasted until Freddie tapped me on my shoulder saying they had to go get their act together for the morning skate. I sleepily nodded and followed behind the group of athletes with my Gatorade into the elevator.

If i could i would have tossed my body into the freshly made bed but I carefully crawled under the covers and cuddled up into dreamland for some more precious sleep.

Noah comes back around to check on me around 1 pm checking temperature, breath sounds, lymphoid and throat. My temperature was high but coming down and he only made a small face well inspecting my throat with his pen light.

"Well you're not worse which is good at least you're stable," He started packing up for the 3rd time today and was out with the same 'call me' stick.

I shed a layer of clothing by removing the hoodie and socks, a sign i was really tired because I never can sleep with socks. I grab a water and gatorade from the fridge and crawl back into bed with the tv remote trying to find something to make the room less dead.

Settling on a what looks like comedy by the appearance of Adam Sandler yelling at a kid - a good sign.

I fall back asleep quickly.

A weight on the side of my bed alerts me to the presence of someone. Instinctively I roll over giving said weight room to lay down instead of being sprawled in the middle.

"What time is it?" I mumbled being roused awake.

"1:30 pm," Came the deep voice I expect.

"Isn't it time for your pre-game name?" I rolled over to face him.

"What do you think I'm doing," with that the covers lift and he settles in.

"Hmm," I barely hum snuggling into the pillows and blankets.

Strong arms circle around my waist and Auston snuggle me with a sigh.

NEXT