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igotathingforvampires · 3 years ago

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Anon Ask | Caius Volturi x F!Witch Reader: Punishments

Canon Divergent Dora is true mated to Renata because I <3 Renata Fight Me

Reader is a Witch.

You are a human. Who managed because of a latent heritage of being a Witch to wander past Heidi into the Throne Room thinking it’s a tour.

You’re not stupid, you walk right in and get near the dais and look around and realize that this is not just a tour.

Sighing, you glance around and face palm. “Ahhhhhh Fuck My Life.”

The Kings of Volterra are eyeing you with amusement.

You sigh, and glare UP at the throne of a very, very gorgeous almost elfin, platinum haired King who’s GLARING back at you with a raised brow and a scowl.

“So ah do I get to pick who offs me?”

All vampires just PAUSE.

“Because okay, if I’m gonna die.” You point at Caius. “That one. You. You’ve got dibs Sir.”

Caius is Shooketh.

This little human has got some guts.

He hates humans. HATES humans.

So why when he snatches you up and you just look at him with those big eyes, and a small smile “just make it quick hm?”

You wait, eyes closed.

Caius pauses, growling and suddenly NOPE you’re picked up and ZOOM.

Aro: The fuck just happened?

You’re tucked away in his inner sanctuary of his rooms, sat down on a chair. “Sit RIGHT here human. If you move I shall be displeased, you won’t like what happens if you make me angry.”

“Uhhhhhh kay.”

Caius goes and feeds and after he sits amongst his brothers. “I’m keeping it.” He growls

Turns out he can keep you because you’re not human! YAY!

“So am I like a bunny.”

“Less than a Rabbit you’re human.” Caius would growl at you.

“Mmmkay.”

How things Go:

You are the chillest bitch to ever chill. Life has not been great, in fact it’s been a horror show, Aro of course sees this and he scolds Caius for treating you like a piece of furniture rather than a person.

Aro knows you’re just feeling Caius out, watching because there are moments— the very few moments— when he is oh so gentle.

You shiver, a blanket is flung at your face. “My luck you’d catch pneumonia.”

Your tummy rumbles, the chef brings a five star meal. “I don’t need you dying.”

You’re bored, suddenly you’re in front of the TV and given access to ALL the shows. “You’re being a pest.”

Aro also knows your temper is starting to appear the more Caius pushes you away.

Caius isn’t sure what to even do with you— he is FEELING things, things he’s never even felt with Dora. And Dora is berating him alongside Marcus for being an utter nitwit.

“Cai for all your brilliance for strategy you’re an idiot in romance.” Dora says.

He knows it’s true. He’s an asshole.

And angry.

All the time. But when you’re around he’s not angry anymore.

But at one point you’re still fidgeting with your hands. “What is the problem now.”

“Ah…well…” you fidget some more, “c-can I have some water colors?”

Caius freezes. “You paint?” He seems curious.

You nod. “I do digital art but I like canvas art too!” You show him your phone of photoshop collages, watercolor, digital paintings and such.

“You do this on a computer?” He tilts his head. He hates technology. So seeing that one can create art this way is astounding to him.

“Yeah I had to sell my iPad a while ago so sadly I can’t do much right now but if I have some water colors that would be a good start!” You bounce on your feet.

You have the a massive iMac, a Wacom Cintiq 24”, an entire selection of Derwent colors and crazy amounts of canvases and anything else you might need that an artist can think of.

Caius is utterly stunned when you tackle him and kiss his cheek thanking him.

His heart explodes into confetti.

Art is how Caius communicates his gentler side. His art is beautiful, evoking deep emotions, and his hand is gentle and fluid enough in motion to capture even the most minute details.

You both grow exceptionally close, till Marcus one day pulls him aside to inform him of the Mate Bond that is between you two.

The Kiss:

You’re modeling for Caius, it’s a random request and you feel utterly embarrassed dressed in flowing robes and sprawled on a chaise lounge half hanging off, your hair spilling onto the marble floor.

You can’t quite help but notice how his gaze is pitch black and devouring you.

“M-Master Caius?”

“Caius.” He grumbles.

“Huh?”

“I think it’s about time you can call me Caius y/n.”

He can hear your heart thump an erratic beat as magic swirls in your eyes. It’s slowly been coming back to you, being cared for, like a plant long neglected, your magic has begun to grow under the tender albeit aloof care of the vampire King you’re so utterly in love with.

But you know it’s silly, there’s no way it’d work—

He’s suddenly next to you, hovering nose to nose, pulling you towards him, “you consume me.”

It’s the last thing he says for a long while as you both end up staying on that lounge for a— ahem lengthy amount of time.

Punishments:

Caius is a sadist.

But he’s a loving sadist.

He has so many kinks he doesn’t know what to do with them. And luckily for him— surprise surprise you’re kinky too.

But you tend to be mouthy. And Caius does not like when he is disobeyed. “Be a good pet and go sit.”

“But—“

“1.”

When Aro counts it’s for orgasms.

When Caius counts it’s for paddling or the crop.

Or it’s for forced orgasms and overstimulation.

The dynamic between you is quite lovely, boundaries are discussed whenever needed, although Caius can come across as gruff and uncaring, at one point during punishment play you had said your safe word rather quickly, and everything stopped. Oils, bath, rub down, talks, blankets, snuggles, and so many kisses to the forehead. “Bunny, oh my little bunny what happened?”

As someone who does not cry.

Ever.

Aro has attested to this.

It astounds Caius that you’d trust him enough to do so.

He realizes that he’s earned a trust that has not been earned by anyone in a long long time, knowing that feeling, he would never break it by overdoing things or going past your boundaries.

Punishments are talked out. Explained. Rules are fairly discussed and you ALWAYS have a say in vetoing or staying off for another day.

If it’s a topic that has yet to be discussed it is tabled, and discussed for what an appropriate response should be.

Punishments include:

Caning

Paddle

Crop (your favorite)

Being suspended and teased.

Leashed. Yes he will have you walk behind him with a leash and collar. And yes he will sit in the Library with you on a leash and your head in his lap. “Good Bunny.”

You are a very good bunny.

Caius has only had only lost his temper with you once. And never will again.

It was due to negligence on your part, you had disobeyed him when it was imperative for you to listen, not aware of the danger of a local coven’s very out of control member. “But Cai why—“

They had heard your blood sing to them.

Caius had torn the individual to pieces in a fit of utter rage before turning on you with a shout, “I told you NEVER to disobey me.” he roared at you, the energy coming off him practically feral as his eyes were murderous.

Seeing you shrink back; the fear in your gaze at him almost broke his heart when the dread kicked in as to what he had done. He had frightened you.

He was supposed to be your comfort and safety.

of course you wouldn't understand vampire's ways of doing things.

or what a singer was...you were a witch...

But before he could even think to reach for you...

You had fled.

Hidden away in Dora’s rooms you tucked yourself away in her bathroom in the tub with a blanket curled up and wept.

Dora and Sulpricia beat the shit out of Caius.

He had sat outside the door pleading with you for hours.

He knew he had utterly fucked up.

He had a horrid temper, he knew it, and the idea of you being drained dry right in front of him had been far too much for him to think of. “Y/n please talk to me. I'm so sorry please forgive me.”

You had unlocked the door with magic…. And he had merely crawled into the tub with you, curled around you underneath the blanket and held you while you cried into him and smacked at his chest. “Don’t do that ever again!!!”

“I know, I know bunny I know. Never again. I'm a bastard I know.”

You calmed down and glared at him.

“Would you like to delve out a punishment?”

You blinked, confused and then realized what he was offering.

“Yes.”

And that is how you ended up quite happy with your vampire begrudgingly, and amused sitting at your feet in your shared rooms with GOOD BOY on a thick leather collar.

Turns out Caius likes being punished too.

“Also a masochist hm?” You laugh at him and grip him by his hair.

“So it seems.” He muses kissing your knee and nudging your legs apart. “But the reward is worth it isn’t it bunny?”

#caius volturi

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hansolmates · 4 years ago

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hoshi; vowels and veracity (m)

summary: after a blind date that makes you feel like a giddy teenager all over again, you’re forced to grow up and take a chance when you realize that special someone is your daughter’s kindergarten teacher. pairing: teacher!soonyoung x single mother!reader genre/warnings: fluffity fluff nuggets, humor, a lil bit of angst when yn panics, *steve rogers voice* language! alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap the pickle before u tickle), face sitting w/c: 5.2k a/n: i really have nothing to say about this but i’ve been thinking about going back to school all week so this manifested. enjoy a lil sexy but sweet hosh💕

“Y-you,” another giggle and the press of wet lips to the sensitive spot of your neck, “stop, Soonyoung! I’m ticklish there!”

You feel a pout imprint itself in the sweet spot between your ear and your jaw, and you sigh at the rumble of his lips against your skin, “But you taste so sweet, baby,” he croons, and you’re practically melting between the door with how much Soonyoung has pressed himself against you, all of himself.

“What if I don’t wanna stop, pretty girl?” he husks against your soft skin, whispering things in your ear that aren’t for the faint of heart. In your haste to keep a firm grip, one hand goes to his clothes and the other nips at the undercut of his midnight black hair, “what if I just open the door right now and we slip right in, and then I slip right in you?”

Your breath hitches and suddenly your core feels like a timebomb, ready to combust.

Go on a date, Joshua says. He’s a sweet guy, Joshua says. He’s a friend of Joshua’s, so you know going into this blind date that at the very least, he wasn’t a serial killer. But what Joshua failed to tell you going into this was how much Kwon Soonyoung packed and how much of a temptor in disguise he is.

“I really would love to invite you in,” it looks like it pains Soonyoung to admit this, as he presses his forehead to yours and the edge of his fingers dig into your crushed emerald velvet number, “but tomorrow’s the first day of work and I am not emotionally prepared. But, I do want to see you again. I had a great time.”

The previous mood melting into the night sky, you reluctantly let go of the lapels of his tweed blazer. Unable to suppress your crestfallen smile you nod, “That’s fine,” you reply, inching away from him to send him a pointed look, “I wouldn’t have gone inside anyway. I don’t put out on the first date,” you cross your arms in an attempt to feign nonchalance.

Which isn’t a lie, although if Soonyoung had asked you two minutes ago to come inside for a cup of tea, you wouldn’t have argued. He is just that tempting. Said date raises an eyebrow in response, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear at the defiance in your eyes. “Oh?” he echoes, “then what date do you put out?”

“Date seven.”

“Lucky seven,” he grins, “so if we go on a date every day this week by Friday we should be good to go. How do you feel about steak?”

You slap his shoulder in his response, and the giggle that erupts from his lips in response has you feeling dizzy and giddy with excitement. Soonyoung has you feeling like a college freshman all over again, floating like Cloud 9 and drunk in anticipation. You peck one, two more kisses on his lips. He tastes like the peach champagne you shared and his own scent as he pulls you in for a much longer, much hotter kiss.

“Good luck on your first day,” you mumble against his lips, vaguely remembering that he’s a teacher in a school nearby.

“Mm, text me when you get home,” and with a final kiss to your forehead he unlocks his door, leaving you warm and full of heart-eyes on his front porch.

The walk home, more like float home, has you feeling all parts exhausted and hopeful for the days to come. For the first time in a long time you feel young and unbridled, thrumming with excitement. Now you’re just playing with your phone, waiting to exchange goodnight texts.

“Nari’s asleep,” when you walk into your shared apartment, you spot a sleepy Seungkwan on his laptop and sprawled across your couch. “How was it?”

“It was reealllly nice,” you’re still a little wine tipsy, drunk on the taste of Merlot and a certain someone’s kisses, “he was really sweet, and surprisingly sexy.”

“Did you get dicked down?” Seungkwan asks only the most important questions.

You scoff, flopping down on the couch next to him, “As if, we have work in the morning.”

“Speaking of work, are you sure you’re not able to drop off Nari to school tomorrow? It’s her first day of kindergarten.”

“I can’t,” saying it feels absolutely awful, but a single mother has to work extra hard to keep her and her daughter happy.

“It’s fine,” Seungkwan easily waves you off and runs a hand through his fluffy auburn hair, “her favorite Uncle is there, anyway.”

“Hey,” you lightly punch his arm, “I’ve already talked Nari through it. I’m cooking a big breakfast tomorrow—chocolate chip pancakes, duh, and taking a million pictures before we have to part ways. I packed a little Kit-Kat for her lunch with a sweet note. When I come back in time for dinner I promised her pizza from her favorite parlor and she can tell me everything about her day.”

“So, you’re bribing her with food.”

“Sue me, it’s every parent’s weak spot.”

Seungkwan stretches his arms, cradling you between his chest. You sigh into his clean linen scent, feeling sleepy. “Yeah, I’ve bribed her with my Switch once or twice,” he admits softly, eyes also drooping, “but you’re a great mother regardless. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Kwannie,” you sigh, feeling more at ease.

Nari is the light of you and Seungkwan’s life. Five years ago, you promised yourself that if you were more than financially stable and still sick with baby fever, you would adopt. You didn’t want to find a romantic partner for the sole purpose of having a child, you could easily do that on your own. And that you did, you researched and visited foster homes off in the countryside.

In a little town off the coast of the shore was where you met Nari, only six months old and full with cherub cheeks and eyes that sparkled like the moon and stars. You fell in love with her instantly. Fast forward five years later and she’s the reason you wake up every morning and work hard every day. Seungkwan being your best friend, also wanted rights as the godfather and therefore is also part of your perfect family picture.

You and Seungkwan sleep warmly tonight, both excited to share yet another year of Nari’s milestones.

“And then Mr. Kwon said I was an ‘ace’ with my vowels!” Nari has a string of cheese hanging from her chin, and you don’t bat an eye as you reach to pat it away with a napkin.

“I wouldn’t expect any less, baby,” you coo, carding a hand through her hair so her bangs don’t get caught in her meal, “remember when mommy and Uncle Kwannie taught you the vowels this summer? We sang that song.”

“Yes! I sang the same song and showed everyone how ‘ta do it,” your heart is swelling with pride, and you fight the urge to tear up because Seungkwan’s already showing signs of waterworks from his side of the table, “I read a book Mr. Kwon gave me today and he said he’s so impressed I read at a Level B.”

You quirk your brows at the new jargon. You certainly don’t know what it means to be a Level B, but it makes Nari happy and that’s all that matters. Wiping the orange grease off her lips, you muse that you must get in contact with her teacher one of these days.

“What’s a Level B?” Seungkwan similarly looks stumped at the new vocabulary.

“I don’t know!” Nari shrugs, but nevertheless her teacher’s attention has her glowing.

You giggle, “I’m so happy for you, baby.”

“I’m excited to go back tomorrow, I made a new friend! His name is Jeonghan and he helped me with my numbers today. He called my bows cute.”

“Cute?” Seungkwan perks up from his stupor, “of course you’re cute, Nari. So cute that you’re too good for this Jeonghwan boy.”

“Jeonghan, Uncle Kwannie,” she pouts when Seungkwan scoffs, in favor of shoving half a slice in his mouth. She turns to you, tugging on your blazer, “Mama, can I go watch TV now? I finished my homework and I wanna see the new Ladybug and Cat Noir!”

“Of course,” you pull away her plate, gesturing for her to go to the living room.

“Thank you mama,” and she’s bouncing off her seat, pushing her chair in and off to watch Miraculous Ladybug.

You sigh, “They grow up so fast.”

Seungkwan’s eyes widen at your age-old phrase, the words reminding him oddly of his parents when they used to talk down to him. “And here we are, aging twice as fast,” Seungkwan bemoans, already starting to feel the greasy food settle in his stomach. “We used to eat a whole pie! We could eat absolute garbage back in college and here I am weak at two slices—oh my god, am I having a ‘back in my day’ moment? We need to go out. I need to go out. I’ve been practicing consonants and vowels all day. I need a boyfriend,” he playfully narrows his eyes at you, “I need a boyfriend like yours, sweet and sexy.”

“Sorry,” you stick out your tongue, “but he’s mine.”

Perfect timing, Soonyoung’s name pops up on your phone. You two have been texting sporadically throughout the day, making plans for your next date. The two of you are going to watch a drive-in movie, a situation that screams teenage-back-of-the-truck-sex but the movie is a much anticipated favorite of yours and you genuinely want to watch it.

Soonyoung is full of humor and laughs, getting you to smile and relax at the right times during work and always manages to keep you on your toes whenever he says something flirtatious.

“Are you gonna introduce him to Nari?”

You stop typing, and look up towards your beautiful little girl in the living room. Her hair is out of her pigtails, drooping tiredly like she is. Her cheek is pressed against her favorite plush cat, fighting for consciousness because she’s waiting for Marinette to save the day. Your heart swells with affection.

“Dunno,” you shrug, trying not to think too hard about it, “we’re not that serious right now.”

You’re absolutely winded. You finished work early today, due to the fact that came in early so you could clock out and pick Nari up from school. Despite the fact that Nari says it’s okay for you not to pick her up, you can’t allow it and you want to be the one who she runs into when she comes out the door.

“Who do you think she’s gonna hug first?” Seungkwan’s elbowing you, baiting you. “Because this morning she gave me a hug and three kisses before I dropped her off.”

“Three?” you seethe in annoyance, “three kisses is our thing! Two on the cheek and one on the forehead!”

The two of you slowly steep together, waiting for the colorful blue door to the kindergarten area to file out. The heel of your shoes are digging into the grass, probably making a needle-like indentation in the dirt as you struggle not to seep into the lawn. You feel like you’re going to flop on your heels, wishing you could go run back into the car and find your flip-flops from last month’s beach trip. But before you could debate on the run the bell rings, and you’re on livewire when you see the students start to file out.

Your smile grows ten-fold when you see Nari’s jaw drop in surprise, seeing you waiting for her. She fists whatever is in her hands in surprise, breaking into the cutest smile as she screams, “mama!”

And you’re ready to hold your arms out and throw her around in circles, until you see who follows right behind her.

Kwon Soonyoung is Nari’s kindergarten teacher. Kwon Soonyoung with his hair down and untextured, wearing a mint polo and looking nothing like the date you had the other night. He looks absolutely soft and so, you are weak.

Kwon Soonyoung, the sexy deviant who sends you questionable texts and sends you funny puppy videos, is staring right at you and utterly confused when Nari rams straight into your hip.

Momentarily distracted, you pepper your pretty daughter in kisses (all three of them, two cheeks and one forehead) and tell her how much you’ve missed her. Clearly she doesn’t miss you as much, as she’s waving around a picture she drew during playtime, one of her and Jeonghan in the sandbox.

“Really, Nari,” Seungkwan mutters under his breath, shamelessly vocalizing his opinion on a five-year old, “can’t you choose a different friend?”

“Seungkwan!” you chide, but he pointedly annoys you when Nari finally enters Seungkwan’s embrace. He takes extra time to cuddle her, obviously jealous that another boy has taken refuge in your little Nari’s heart.

The moment is so sweet and simple you have no choice but to revel in it and take out your phone to snap a photo.

“Mama!” she pops her head off of Seungkwan’s shoulder, “come meet Mr. Kwon!”

And she’s tugging your hand, only you’re much stronger and you stay firmly planted on the grass. Heck, you even sacrifice your shoes by digging your heels in for extra measure.Your eyes widen in panic, but Nari doesn’t notice because she’s paving a path of dirt with her lime green light-up sneakers, trying to get you to move. You nearly forgot your latest tryst is your daughter’s teacher, and you never told him you have a kid.

But within seconds, there’s an audible slam and the three of you are shattered from your bubble. Turning to the noise the heavy navy door is now locked shut, all the students dismissed for the day. The crowd is gone. Soonyoung is gone.

Seungkwan’s eyes dart between the closed door and you, the pieces clicking. His mouth forms a little ‘o’ and he nods in understanding. “He thinks I’m your baby daddy.”

The two of you point out each other like the Spiderman meme. “He thinks you’re my baby daddy,” you echo, horror marrying your face.

“Mama? What’s a baby daddy?”

“Shh, Nari—” he picks up Nari in one swoop, mouthing a go to you as he leads her to the car.

All alone on the grass, you panic as you watch your family grow smaller and smaller as they enter the parking lot. Soonyoung’s just behind that door, right? Looking left and right to assure no one is going to think you’re being that parent and harassing the teacher within the first week of school, you bound up the steps to knock on the door. Your knocks clang heavily, echoing against the building.

Ten seconds pass. Nothing.

You deflate, pulling out your phone to shoot Soonyoung a quick text.

You: hey, can you come out for a bit so i can explain? Please

A minute passes. He leaves you on read. Defeated, you slump against the door. This day is really a whirlwind on your mental state. All you wanted today was some extra time off work, Nari’s three kisses, and maybe a goodnight text from Soonyoung if you were lucky.

The door suddenly flips open, and you’re braced against someone’s hands.

“Whoa, you okay?”

Your face crumples in relief when it’s Soonyoung that’s come out to respond to you. He’s bracing your weight by holding your arms between his hands, although keeping a respectable distance between the upper half of your bodies. It makes you a little upset, but you understand. Once you’re stable, he lets you go and leans away from you.

“Why are you waiting out here?” he asks pointedly, looking at you up and down. You seem terribly overdressed in your coral pinstripe suit, mismatching with Soonyoung’s apple sauce stains.

“Why do you think I’m waiting out here?”

“And if I close the door again?” he retorts suddenly.

“Then I’ll follow you home.”

A beat passes, whatever expression he conveys on his face is practiced and primed. You have a terrible time trying to decipher his blankness. Working with kids probably does that to an adult. “Come in,” he says neutrally, and you wordlessly follow him into his classroom.

The room is decorated beautifully, with rainbows and glitter. It’s also surprisingly organized, all the crayons in place and the play area free of stray toys. Your eyes instantly search for Nari’s desk, and a small smile fits on your face as you trace her handmade name tag.

“Normally, I don’t let parents in my room until it’s Back to School Night,” Soonyoung says, leaning against his desk. It makes you terribly nervous, knowing the ball is in your court and he’s waiting for you to make a move. His carefree, easy going nature is nowhere to be found, and all you see is walls and a mean poker face. He pulls up the sleeves of his polo, exposing pale, strong arms. Your mouth waters a little (you can’t help it!) and you immediately reach for a bottle of water in your purse. “So, what is it you have to say?”

“Seungkwan’s not my baby daddy,” you blurt, and you immediately blanch when Soonyoung’s eyes widen. “Wow uh. I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“But you did say it like that,” Soonyoung replies slowly, “no child just doesn’t give three kisses to someone who isn’t their father.”

“I only called him my baby daddy because he said it first,” you grumble, almost childishly, “and Nari’s a baby, of course she’s going to give three kisses to anyone that feeds her and coddles her.”

“It sounds like an excuse.”

“It sounds like I’m freaking out because you keep talking back and forth like this!” you cry, slapping your hands against your thigh. You don’t have to look in a mirror to know that you’re quickly getting annoyed, your face morphing into a shade of embarrassment. You can’t tell if this is amusing him or this is a real interrogation. “Let me explain, Soonyoung!”

He says your name slowly, deliberately. And then, “do you want to take a break in the Calm Down Corner?”

“The—the what?” Soonyoung’s eyes flicker to a corner at the far end of the room. The radiator is decorated in a sky blue wallpaper, and there’s a yoga mat on the floor. There are chairs next to a desk filled with coloring pages, decorated with fairy lights. Filling three of the chairs are various stuffed animals, a tiger, a cat, and a panda, all dressed as doctors. It’s a child’s therapy corner. “You gotta be kidding me.”

He raises a brow, and—is that a smile on his lips? “Then explain, why are you here?”

“Because I think I really like you,” you confess, frustration melting away to reveal the uneasy upturn on your lips. You lied when Seungkwan asked if you would ever consider introducing Soonyoung to Nari. In a different world, you would’ve loved to take the time to take Nari to the museum and introduce Soonyoung there. They’d definitely bond over their love for tigers. “Seungkwan is my best friend, and helps me take care of Nari. I adopted her five years ago.”

Something softens in Soonyoung’s eyes, and the air feels much more relaxed. But his dark brows remain knit together, and he looks at you with confused eyes. “Then if you like me so much, why didn’t you tell me you had a daughter?”

“Because kids can be deal breakers,” you admit, and the colorful classroom feels smaller as you hug yourself. “I just, wanted you to like me first.”

It’s the primary reason why it’s taken you so long to date. Sure, there’d be a fling here and there, but nothing that feels as tangible as Soonyoung is. You’re not old enough to find a partner that wouldn’t blink at the sign of children, yet you’re still at that weird age threshold where a partner could immediately run for the hills at the mention of one. Nothing will top Nari, she’s number one in your heart, but the small selfish part wanted you to put the focus on yourself for just one night.

“You don’t have to hide, I want every part of your life no matter how long we have,” he assures you gently, firmly without an ounce of regret. Soonyoung opens his arms, and you cry in relief when you get to collapse in the scent of his cologne. You tuck your head in the crook of his neck, slightly sweaty from whatever activities he needs to do with the kids, but you don’t mind. His voice is quiet, melting in your ears, “and I really like you too. I really like Nari as well, she’s a great kid.”

“She is, isn’t she?”

You two pull away, and he swipes a thumb under your eyes in case some tears manage to escape. “So, Friday? Movie?”

“It’s a date.”

“Where’s Nari?” the question is huffed against your breath as you’re pressed between your freshly washed bedspread and Soonyoung’s body. He takes care in making sure the zipper of your delicate dress doesn’t get caught in the rush, easily slipping your dress off and throwing it on your desk chair.

“At Seungkwan’s, why?”

His cheshire cat eyes glow under the moonlight, positively devious. “It’s date seven,” he announces sweetly. His gaze betrays his saccarine reply, a look that only tells you that Soonyoung plans to fuck you five ways to Sunday, and you’ll gladly let him.

You sit up on your elbows, enjoying the show as Soonyoung quickly sheds his clothing. It’s ungraceful, exciting. Tonight was a simple carnival date, easily making you feel like a giddy college student all over again. Soonyoung won you five Pokemon keychains today, you could put a whole party on your hand.

“It’s actually date six,” you tease, tilting your head as his pants finally come off, revealing black boxer briefs that snug deliciously around the waist.

“Oh, okay,” he looks at you like you’ve spoken God’s word, reaching to pick up his shirt, “so you don’t want my dick fucking you raw tonight? Okay, I see how it is,” he pretends to put on his clothing, jabbing a thumb out the door.

You have the audacity to giggle, pulling him over by the waistband, “Come here so I can make an exception.”

You don’t know what it is that makes you want you want to give everything to this man. Heck, five years ago you didn’t even want a man as an excuse to have kids. But as he nudges you in all the right places and places you on top of him, you know this man will treat you like an absolute treasure. Every kiss is laced with smiles and sweetness, filled with vigor and vivacity that fills you up and leaves you afloat.

He takes care of you first, unwilling to let you budge as he places your core over his face. He makes quick, but effective use of his tongue and fingers, making sure you’re nice and sensitive for his future plans. You’re practically throbbing with pleasure, vibrating from every cell of your body. Within minutes he’s glistening in your arousal, and he pulls you down so you’re lined up with his crotch. It’s involuntary when you pulse against his member, your body shamefully alerting you that it’s desperate with need, and the remedy is right under you.

Soonyoung looks more satisfied than you, eager to please you. Without warning, he stuffs two fingers in your mouth, “You pretty, pretty girl,” you are keen at the attention, your body is glowing a radiant rose.

Your tongue rolls against his fingers, sticky and tasting of your arousal. Tilting your hips up you let Soonyoung pull his member out, lining it against your entrance. Feeling the soft tip brush against your delicate folds, you moan against his mouth. With a little ‘pop’ he releases you, lips shiny and parted.

“I hope you don’t think I’m some kind of hit-it-n’quit-it kind of guy,” he noses the sensitive spot of your jawline, which distracts you momentarily when the plush tip nudges your folds, coaxing you to unite. “Because after tonight, I’m definitely keeping you. Forever.”

The reply that dances on your tongue is overtaken by your whines when Soonyoung slips in fully, forcing your body to clench tightly against his. You take him, all of him. You feel wet and sticky and hot and swollen with affection as Soonyoung praises you for taking him so well. His pace is firm and passionate, short nails digging deliciously into your hips for leverage as he makes sure to fill you to the brim.

He’s right, tonight is far from being a means to an end. You feel like you can have nights like this the rest of your life. And when the both of you finish and you’re pulling the covers over one another, you finally manage to grasp the reply that was nearly forgotten.

Pressing a kiss to his jaw you whisper, “I’m keeping you, too.”

“So, how long can we keep this a secret for?”

“Ideally? Ten months. Realistically, I’d say Christmas.”

“Why Christmas?”

“Because I know you’re going to be dying to get Nari a Christmas present.”

Soonyoung props his elbow on the pillow, looking at you petulantly. “I could say it’s a good behavior reward. She’s been racking up those gold stars during morning meetings, babe. She’s not even trying.”

“That’s my girl,” you coo, rolling over to lean your head on his chest. Light has long flooded into your apartment, seeping through your curtains and reflecting on your white duvet. Soonyoung looks absolutely fluffy and well rested, and you can’t help but reach to pat down the ebony bird’s nest atop his head.

The two of you lay like that for a little bit, playing with each other’s cold feet under the covers and relishing under the touch of bare skin to bare skin. You remind yourself that you need to take Joshua out to dinner one of these days, as he managed the inevitable and set you up with an amazing partner.

“Breakfast?” Soonyoung pops the question easily, “let’s get steak.”

“Steak isn’t eaten for breakfast.”

“Then can I eat you for breakfast?”

You snort, hiding under the covers while Soonyoung attempts to tickle you. The whole act in itself feels wholly innocent despite the fact that you’re both naked and smell like sweat and sex. Just as you feel Soonyoung’s head dip under the covers to meet you at your chest, the door swings open.

“Mama!”

The previously warm room feels like wickedly sharp ice, freezing you to your spot as you clutch the covers closer to your chest. “Baby!” you cry exasperatedly, flinching when she throws all her weight on you. She’s still in her ladybug pajamas from last night, hair falling out of her braid.

She lifts her head from your breast to give you an adorable one-toothed grin. You try your best to maintain eye-contact, but Nari has impeccable vision. Her grin evolves into a full-on beam when she finds your bed partner.

“Mr. Kwon!” she’s squealing, clamoring over your lap. You do a double-take when you see Soonyoung sitting next to you, wearing a t-shirt. Where on earth did he get that?

Soonyoung’s eyes reduce to crescents at his (secretly) favorite student. “Good morning, Nari-ah. Had a fun time at your Uncle’s house?”

“Nari,” you force your daughter down to stand on the hardwood, giving her a stern look, “give Mr. Kwon some space, it’s really early and it’s the weekend.”

Knitting her brows together, she looks between the two of you, “But you two don’t have any space.”

You wince at her perception, and nudge yourself away so you’re pressed against your nightstand. The oakwood corner digs painfully into your back.

“We were haviång a very special parent meeting,” you fight the urge to cry when Soonyoung turns on his teacher's voice, sending your daughter a very convincing smile. You watch as your daughter’s eyes go wide, probably feeling very special that her teacher came all the way to her house to have a meeting. “You’ve been doing so well during the read-alouds that I had to tell your mama in person!”

“I told you mama!” Nari juts out her chest, and you lean over to kiss the crown of her head. “But Mr. Kwon, why are you having it in mama’s room?”

“Her room is the warmest!” he says like it’s the most obvious thing, his and Nari’s eyes widening simultaneously as he gestures to the open window. “The sun travels directly into your bedroom in the morning, and those rays send heat—”

“Mr. Kwon,” your voice is as steady as it can be, and you frown when Soonyoung wiggles his brows. You already know he’s thinking of three separate ways you can use the term Mr. Kwon in private, but you’re not having any of that, “shouldn’t we uh, wrap up this… meeting?”

“I wanna stay,” Nari glowers, obviously nosy as to what you two are talking about.

“I know baby. We just gotta finish up the meeting, okay? Can you—” you cut yourself off when Seungkwan finally decides to make his appearance, eyes wide at commotion he’s created. He’s in matching pajamas, ridiculously red as he bends down to scoop up Nari. Absolutely sweating and as red as his clothes, his eyes dart between the two of you. You could care less that Seungkwan’s eyes have bags under their bags, and was probably too tired to catch her when she ran inside the house. No, Seungkwan doesn’t deserve the title of godfather anymore.

“Nari! You can’t interrupt teacher meetings,” Seungkwan pretends to scold, and Nari turns her head so she can hide in her Uncle’s shoulder.

Knowing that Nari can’t see a thing, you mouth a very explicit I will kill you to your best friend, and he immediately mouths an apology to the both of you as he ushers himself out the door. You wait ten seconds for your daughter to be out of ear shot, before dropping the blanket from your neck and throwing yourself against the pillows.

But Soonyoung’s chuckling, pressing a litany of kisses all over your bare body in an attempt to comfort you. Instead of reveling in his lazy morning touch, you want to disappear between the sheets, never to be seen. What will the PTO moms say when they find out? How will you stop Nari from telling Jeonghan, and therefore Jeonghan telling the entire kindergarten population? Why isn’t Soonyoung freaking out about this? Instead, he favors to taste your body, in between kisses muttering something about it being kismet that Nari so happened to see right as you were discussing the secrecy of your relationship. Ten years from now, your daughter will be horrified when she realizes that no, teachers don’t normally give housecalls in your mother’s bed.

Your boyfriend pinches your thigh, regarding you with mirth in his eyes.

“So, that means I can buy her a Christmas present now, right?”

#hoshi fic #hoshi x reader #svt creations #caratwritersclub #thekpopnetwork #svt fic #svt scenarios #soonyoung fic

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magalidragon · 4 years ago

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6! I’ve been loving everyone doing these prompts!

Aw, yay! I knew instantly which universe to set this in, as well as what would happen, so I hope you enjoy this return to grinning & grumpy, aka Hockey Player Grouch Jon and Bubbly Happy Dany!

Romantic One-Liner Prompts

6. “Being happy, fortunately coincides with making you happy.”

“I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“It’s easy.”

Dany huffed, her knuckles white under the layer of her cashmere gloves, gripping the red edge of the ice rink wall circling her. Initially, she was slightly offended that he hadn’t seen fit to bring them out onto the actual rink, but now, her feet resting upon narrow blades and a very hard, very cold surface, designed to be as slick as possible and when it wasn’t, filled with dangerous sharp gooves and divots that could tear into your skin, if you were not wearing proper padding.

The red leather leggings she’d chosen that morning, with her favorite oversized black cashmere sweater and black puffy coat did not consistute proper padding. She was regretting this entire thing, when she’d agreed to Jon’s declaration that he ahd a surprise for her and would it please him if she could wear a black scarf around her eyes for a moment?

She agreed, thinking it was some new kinky thing they could test out, but nope. He’d brought her straight to the ice rink. The practice rink. The children’s practice rink. “This is a mistake,” she threw over hers houlder, still not letting go. “I enver should have agreed to this!”

“Oh come off it, you’re fine.”

“Says the professional hockey player!”

Indeed, her grump was skating easily around the rink, lapping her every two seconds, more comfortable on the ice than he was off of it, and he’d put on his gloves and was holding his stick, tossing about the biscuit with Edwina, who was laughing at her and pointing, looping her too. “It’s fun Dany!” the little girl shouted, in her pink pads and pink hockey skates, a pink helmet strapped over her head.

“Where do I get one of those?” she asked.

Jon lapped her again. “One what?”

“A helmet.”

“Oh you’re fine.”

“You wear one!”

“Because I have six-foot, five-inch, 250 pound defensemen trying to beat the ever-loving shit out of him with their stick and blades,” he explained, popping the puck onto his stick and watching it bounce a moment before he dropped it down to the ice, sending it rocketing down the rink towards Edwina, who easily took it and shot it into the small kid’s size goal at the end.

Edwina shouted, throwing her hands into the airs. “She shoots! She scores!”

“Not a difficult thing to do with no one here!”

“Oh shut up Uncle Jon!”

“You shut up!”

“No you!”

Dany passed them, her feet slightly more comfortable underneath her now. She let go of the rink with one hand, feeling better now and pushed off here and there, giggling. It wasn’t so bad. She glanced over to Jon, who was msiling at her, lazily crossing over to join her, his hand outstretched. She gently placed hers in his; even through her gloves his skin was cool, despite his gloves on a moment ago. She let him tug her away, her knees trembling. “Ah!”

He shook his head, clicking his tongue, eyebrows lifting. “No, none of that, just trust yourself.”

“Jon, I’m wearing sharp razors on my feet on ice.”

“That’s how you can stand, come on, just trust me.”

She trusted him with her life, letting him pull her closer to his chest, his hand still in hers, and she allowed him to pull her along, while he skated backwards, taking her around the ice, around and around, in relaxing laps, her mind going blank, focusing on the warmth from his chest, the slight puffs of his breath, and the cool breeze on her face wafting off the ice.

It was a nice surprise, one she suspected he’d done to cheer her up. Daario had decided, after he’d been traded from the Wolves, to go on a press blitz that included trashing her as much as possible in the papers and on talk shows, going on about how she’d used him to get the job with the Wolves—not true—cheated on him with Jon—definitely not true—and currently was in a fit of depression because not only was she without him, but her meal ticket boyfriend had decided that he would retire from the Wolves after the end of the season—the only thing true about that was Jon deciding to retire from the Wolves after the end of the season.

It had been a hard call to make, but he wanted to go out on his own terms, not because a bad check forced it out of him. He had done what needed to be done to heal his shoulder enough to get back out there, to be the all-star centre he was. She loved him more and more, every second, and was so grateful to have him in her life. Daario’s shitty moves hadn’t affected her at all, until he decided to bring up some extremely personal details, personal details she regretted ever sharing with him.

Dany could only be so happy in public, but this was enough to bring her down, and when the roles switched—Jon was the smiling one in the relationship—the press had picked up on it and there was only so much even she could take. She’d been fairly down lately.

And Jon Snow was picking her back up.

Also literally, literally picking her up.

“Put me down!” she laughed, when he hoisted her up off the ice, spinning in a circle with her in his arms.

He laughed, keeping a tight grip on her, skating backwards, her legs now around his hips. “And why would I do that?”

“You drop me on my arse and I will kill you!”

“I’m not going to drop you on your arse, I am a <i>professional</i> hockey player.”

She tightened her grip around his neck, smiling down at him, his often-scowling face pulling into a relaxed grin. “A hockey player, not a pairs figure skater.”

“Perhaps that can be my second career.”

“And who will be your partner?”

He set her down on the ice, holding her hands, and carefuly glided her around in a circle; it was shaky, but it was the barest hint of a spin. She shrieked, amazed she hadn’t fallen down, and he pulled her back into his arms. “You, of course.”

“I don’t know about that.”

They skated around, her feet far more comfortable now, even willing to test the ability to push off the ice on her own, but still keeping his hand tight in hers. Circling around and around, she noticed that Edwina had left, along with the hockey goal. She peered up at Jon, who didn’t think a thing about it. “What?” he wondered, at her frown.

“Wehre did Edwina go?”

On cue, the lights dimmed, bright rainbow ones flashing around lazily on the ice, like a disco globe, and music started, soft jazz that she normally played in her apartment when she wanted a hot bath, usually preferring hard rock or rap or hip-hop for everything else. “What on earth…,” she wondered, gazing around, and then to Edwina, who was on the other side of the plexiglass, waving and giggling. She burst into laughter. “What did she do!?”

Jon feigned disgust. “That little shit!”

Even the great grouch Jon Snow couldn’t hide the little curve in his lips, the smile winning out after she jabbed her elbow into his gut. He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, sheepish. “Wanted to do something nice. This is nice, right?”

He was so nervous about it, she pushed into him, knocking him slightly off balance. She gasped, faltering, terrified of falling, but his arm shot out to wrap around her wist, keeping her on her feet—or blades—regaining his balance too. She maintained her arms around him, nodding, smiling wide. “Yes, it is very nice.” She paused, whispering. “Thank you.”

They continued to skate around, with him letting go of her to have her try some strokes out on her own, a couple of bobbles here and there, but she was able to do it, eventually skating right into his arms, her face pressing into his Winterfell Wolves hoodie. She sighed, eyes closing, and he spun her around a few times, at home on the ice, and sharing that home with her, in a way that made her think, her eyes flicking up to his.

He was still smiling, softly to himself, and she turned so her back was to his chest, his chin dropping to her shoulder, keeping her skates between his as he pushed her along with his momentum. “Jon,” she whispered, hands tight on his.

“Hmm?”

“I think you’re very happy. I’m glad for that.” It was where she wanted him to be, a place where he could be satisfied with how things would turn out in his career, which she knew was very important to him, and also, he was letting what Daario said in the public roll right off his back, which was what she was doing now, pressing away all that initial hurt, because she was here with Jon, and that was where she was happiest. Where it mattered most.

He kissed her neck, his breath tickling her ear, husky and thick with emotion. “Being happy, fortunately coincides with making you happy.”

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She turned her face up to his, grinning, and accepted the gentle kiss he touched to her lips. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too.”

They skated around for some time, how long she couldn’t say, but long enough for Edwina to grow bored wherever she was hiding and stomp out, banging her hockey stick on the ice and demanding a one-on-one with the All-Star, Highest-Scoring Centre in Westeros Hockey history.

“Are we just gonna’ skate or are we gonna’ play some puck!?” she demanded.

Jon rolled his eyes. “Oh shut it. You don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re six!”

“I do so know and I’m gonna’ beat you!”

Dany kissed his cheek, giggling, and squeezed his hadns again. “I think Jon, it would make me very happy if you taught your niece a bit of hockey now.” She arched her brows, laughing at his pretend scowl, his gagging as she let go of him and carefully toddled over to the edge of the ice rink, clearly all for show. She got off the ice and sat down on a bench, grinning and watching him play with his niece.

And very grateful she did not have to go back out there again. Ice skating most definitely not for Daenerys, as happy as it did make Jon.

#jonerys #jonerys drabbles #reply #jonerys fluff

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dale-the-human · 4 years ago

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Never Eat Soggy Waffles (VENOM 2 TRAILER ONESHOT)

Based on the latest trailer for "Venom 2 Let there be Carnage," specifically the fantastically chaotic breakfast scene which is perfect and I love every part of it. READ ON AO3

In the films, the sentient, genderless gooey blob bonded to Eddie Brock is often referred to by he/him pronouns so that's what's used here. My headcanon is that Venom couldn't care less what they're called, as long as it's not "it" or "parasite" or "gooey blob."

Too fuckin early.

That was the first coherent thought that went through Eddie's mind as he went through the uncomfortable process of dragging his sluggish brain back to consciousness after twelve hours of something that resembled a coma more than sleep.

He felt something only-semi-gently prod his cheek and opened his eyes to find Venom's face floating so close that if both of them had had noses, they would be participating in what is rather-extremely inappropriately called an "Eskimo Kiss." There had to be a better, more culturally sensitive name for that, but with only half of his brain online, the word was out of Eddie's reach.

The first five times Eddie had woken up to the dramatic visage of Venom's face floating approximately two inches away from his own, he'd been understandably startled. For example, instance number four had resulted in a violent collision with the laptop Eddie had made the mistake of leaving right next to his head.

But a year of morning jumpscares had conditioned Eddie's sympathetic nervous system, and today he barely even blinked.

"IT IS 1PM, EDDIE," Venom said. "I WOULD SAY GOOD MORNING BUT THAT IS NOT EVEN ACCURATE ANYMORE."

Eddie groaned, turning away from him. He grabbed another pillow and shoved his face into it, blocking out the sunlight piercing through the half-broken window blinds. When had those even broken? He didn't care enough to try to remember.

A callous black tentacle very rudely snatched the precious pillow away, then even more rudely smacked Eddie on the cheek.

"WAKEY WAKEY, EGGS AND BAC'Y"

"...What?" Eddie mumbled sleepily. "The hell'd you learn that from?"

"A COMMERCIAL. YOU WERE ASLEEP AT THAT POINT."

"Ah."

Venom had a fascination with human television, and since he required significantly less sleep than Eddie, and Eddie could sleep though pretty much anything, they would often spend the night laid out on the couch, Eddie drooling on the dilapidated cushions while Venom watched anything and everything from football to infomercials to Pawn Stars to The CW.

To Eddie's mild confusion, Venom was particularly fond of Supernatural, He enjoyed learning human lore of monsters and ghosts, and occasionally woke up Eddie to ask if something was real. Even though the answer was almost always "No, and for the love of fuck just let me sleep," the alien still greatly enjoyed the show. Once, he shared with Eddie that his favorite character was Dean because he looked the most like him. Even though Eddie had apologized for laughing so hard, Venom was too embarrassed to ever bring it up again.

After another minute of impatient prodding, Venom successfully got his reluctant host out of bed. It took a combined effort to get both of Eddie's arms into the sleeves of a dingy old bathrobe, then the two of them trudged over to the kitchen, sidestepping a chicken and other assorted detritus they'd been "meaning to clean up" for several weeks now.

"Okay, c'mon, V," Eddie grumbled. "You've gotta let me have coffee today."

NO, the symbiote answered inside his head. WE HAVE TALKED ABOUT THIS, EDDIE. CAFFEINE IS NOT GOOD FOR YOU, AND WE DO NOT LIKE THE WAY IT FEELS.

Eddie sighed, opening the fridge. "You know, you're really bustin' my balls here. It's just coffee. Everyone drinks coffee- I've been drinking it like it's water for the majority of my adult life and look how I turned out."

WE KNOW. THAT'S ONE OF THE MANY DAMAGES YOU SHOULD BE GLAD WE ARE HERE TO FIX. IT'S IMPRESSIVE HOW WELL YOUR BODY FUNCTIONED DESPITE YOUR BEST EFFORTS TO RUIN IT.

"You know what?" Eddie said as he rifled through the shelves of disorganized food. "I'm gonna choose to take that as a compliment."

He grabbed the carton of discount orange juice they'd purchased on a shopping trip several days ago, feeling Venom extend several tentacles from his back.

Eddie purposefully ignored the cacophony of crashing dishware and cookware that followed, diverting his entire focus to pouring himself a glass of cheap OJ as various ingredients and cartons of milk flew around him.

Behind him, he heard Venom turn on the radio and dial it to his favorite station. As misfortune would have it, it turned out to be a song Venom knew well enough to remember the lyrics to, and Eddie was treated to a delightful cover of "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off."

Venom's impression of Louis Armstrong wasn't actually half-bad, but it was a little hard to enjoy while the symbiote belted it out entirely within their shared headspace. Why he elected to project his voice mentally instead of forming a mouth and singing irl, Eddie had no idea. He was tempted to yell at him to shut up, but after a moment of consideration, he decided it wasn't annoying enough to ruin Venom's fun.

Still doing his best not to acknowledge the chaos behind him, Eddie picked up his glass and shuffled over to the crappy little table they used for most meals. Their previous table had been a much larger one, but it had met an untimely demise six months ago when the human-symbiote team had made the unwise decision to practice back-flips indoors.

Eddie sat down, only to be startled when Venom grabbed the table with a tentacle and pushed Eddie's chair closer with a violent shove.

While he waited for Venom to finish whatever unorthodox meal he was preparing, he looked through the stack of mail in front of him.

Another letter from that red-headed freak. Great.

It was almost flattering that Kasady had picked him specifically as the only interviewer he'd talk to, but the psychopath's fixation was disturbing, even for seasoned reporter Eddie Brock.

His thoughts were interrupted by the dramatic arrival of two plates stacked high with every breakfast food he could think of. Half-cooked eggs, burnt sausages, something with mushrooms, a few whole strawberries, pancakes, and waffles, all stacked in one horrific pile and soaking wet with milk and cereal.

TA-DA! Venom said proudly. He held a bottle of ketchup in front of Eddie with one tentacle. KETCHUP?

"Excuse me?" Eddie barely had time to register what Venom had said before the symbiote happily crushed the entire bottle and coated Eddie in a beautiful explosion of red sauce.

YUMMY, Venom purred.

As he sat there, decorated with what looked like a gruesome blood splatter and faced with the unappetizing prospect of eating the breakfast Venom had lovingly prepared for him, Eddie had the same thought as before.

Too fuckin early.

#venom #venom let there be carnage #marvel comics #oneshot #venom trailer #no monster fucking here just wholesome domestic Symbrock #drabble #Symbrock #venom 2 #wholesome symbrock #I wrote this at 5 am y'all #fml #I'm so tired

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hidden-otaku-stuff · 4 years ago

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Lockscreens (ch. 4)

tw: Insecurities, feelings of loneliness

Word count: 3.2k

Genre: Angst, fluff

All trigger warnings will be tagged and posted at the beginning of each chapter! This will have *manga spoilers*

Pairings: Bokuto x fem!reader, Kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: Nearly four years ago, Bokuto left the love of his life for volleyball. Despite all the time, he’s still very much in love with her. He comes home to a major surprise leaving him wondering…What happened while he was gone?

Masterlist | prev | next

ch 4: alone (14 weeks)

14 Weeks “So? How’d it go?” (Name) had just barely gotten into her car when her phone had rung.

“I got the job!” She squealed, grinning.

“I knew you could do it, kitten.” Even though she couldn’t see him, she could just hear the smile he had on his face. “This calls for a celebration!” He declared. “Be ready at 6, I’ll pick you up, okay?”

“Oh, Kuroo, you don’t have to do that.” She bit her lip.

“Too late, I already have the reservations booked! See you at 6, darlin’.” The phone beeped as the call ended. She stared at the screen a moment longer. It was a picture of her, Yaku, Kai, and Kuroo at her graduation party. Kuroo was slightly behind her, putting bunny-ears behind her head, whereas Yaku and Kai were standing right beside her, arms thrown over her shoulders. She glanced at the clock. It was only two, she had plenty of time to get ready.

A few hours later, she stepped out of her house. A navy blue peacoat covered her cream turtle-neck dress. Black, high-heeled shoes donned her feet. “Wow, don’t you look beautiful,” Kuroo teased as he opened the door for her.

“Well aren’t you being chivalrous today,” she smirked.

“I’m always chivalrous,” he retorted. Kuroo started the car, and adjusted the fans so that the wind wasn’t blowing directly onto her.

“So, where are we going?”

“That’s a secret.” He tapped her nose playfully before he focused on driving.

As they arrived at their destination, her eyes widened. “Kuroo! You didn’t have to take me here.” He pulled up into the front, turning off the car. Kuroo quickly went to her side, opening the door with a cheeky smile. He extended a hand, gently guiding her out of the car.

“I wanted to.” He looked at the valet, handing them his keys. “Thank you so much~!” They walked in together, past the white marble columns; she was still in shock. “Reservation for Kuroo Tetsurou.”

The lady at the booth smiled, “right this way, Mr. Kuroo.” She guided them to a private table nearby the balcony.

They thanked her and she quickly walked away. Kuroo pulled the chair out for (Name), waiting for her to sit down before he pushed the seat in. As he walked to his own seat, her eyes roamed his figure. Kuroo was wearing a dark grey dress shirt that matched his coat and pants with a navy blue tie. “You’re drooling,” he teased as he took off his jacket, carefully draping it over the back of his chair.

Her cheeks glowed as she averted her eyes. “I’m just surprised.” She shrugged as she scanned the menu, mouth starting to water at all the options. “Too used to seeing you in red and black, I suppose.”

“Do I look good?” (Name) raised her head to see his cheeky smirk.

“You look presentable,” she replied with a blank face. She’d never admit it, but he definitely looked better than just ‘good’. She scanned the surroundings. “I never thought I’d be dining here.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “This is too fancy for just a reward for a job interview. How did you even get a reservation here?”

Kuroo held his hand up, shrugging. “No thank you to the greatest best friend in the world?” He teased before giving her a soft smile. “How about a belated graduation gift and a reward for getting a job?” He leaned his cheek into his propped up hand. “Don’t worry about the specifics, sweetheart. I’d do anything for you.”

Her eyes softened. “Oh you big dummy,” she murmured affectionately. Her hand reached across the table to grasp his. “What on Earth did I do to deserve you?”

“Manage my dumbass for years.” His thumb rubbed against her knuckles. “That, and carried me in English and history.” He shot her a cheeky smile. At that, she let out a breathy laugh. A wave of guilt coursed through her body. It was Kuroo, they had always been familiar with one another. They’d practically grown up holding hands. But why did it feel different now?

“I suppose you do owe me for all that work,” she teased.

“So don’t worry about this, okay?” He pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles. “Just enjoy your meal, and I promise I’ll take care of you.” Warm smiles were exchanged before they slipped into their usual conversation.

****

Laughter filled the air as they exited the five-star restaurant. Kuroo helped her put on her coat as they stood just inside the entrance. “Want some dessert?” With an eager nod from her, they made their way down the street. Warm air billowed out to meet cold as they exhaled. She shivered, pulling her coat closer to her. The dessert place was only a few blocks away, but she couldn’t help but wish that they’d driven instead. Their shoulders brushed as they walked side-by-side. Loud noises caught their attention as the light of a TV filled the sidewalk. “Another phenomenal straight! Is there nothing that wing-spiker Bokuto Koutarou can’t do?” At the sound of his name, her feet froze. Dragging her eyes away from the ground in front of her, she looked at the television. “Tonight at the Panasonic Arena in Hirakata, the MSBY Black Jackal took their win with straight sets against the Tachibana Red Falcons. A majority of those points were scored by up-and-rising ace Bokuto on his debut match with the team!” Kuroo’s hand gently grasped onto her elbow, pulling her away from the screen. At his touch, her feet unfroze. Shaking her head, she followed his footsteps.

“Do you miss him?” Hesitation filled his voice as he pulled his coat closer, fingers grasping her coat gently.

Her breath puffed out. They walked another block as she contemplated her answer. He held his breath, eyes rapidly darting between her and the concrete. “No,” she finally replied. “Not anymore.”

“Oh?”

They stopped at a crosswalk. She glanced up at her companion, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. “There are some nights where I’ll miss him,” she admitted. “And I wish that he knew.” A hand settled over her stomach, her eyes closing. Another shiver tore through her.

Kuroo quickly stepped closer to her, pulling her into a hug as they waited for the light to change. “Are you planning on telling him?”

She shook her head, brushing her hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. “He looks happy as is.” With a ding, the light changed.

Kuroo released her, and they walked together over. His hand slipped into hers. He stopped at the next corner, looking down at her as he squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, I’m here for you.” Her eyes sparkled as they met his and a sudden warmth coursed through his blood; his throat constricted at the sight of her smile. He could only hold her hand tighter in an attempt to ground himself.

****

“There you have it folks! Bokuto Koutarou blows past the three blockers, with a clean wipe!” The roar of the audience filled his ears. Bokuto turned, beaming up into the crowd. He looked for the familiar face framed with (h/c) locks. Bokuto froze, the smile stuck on his face. It was his very first match, his debut match with an actual professional team, yet he had never felt so alone.

Yes, he had his team-mates.

Yes, there were people in the audience cheering for him. He was sure that at least a few of his friends and former team-mates would’ve caught part of the game on TV.

But, they weren’t there. Not in person.

She wasn’t there.

“Great job out there Bokuto!” A hand slapped his back. Bokuto lurched forward, turning back to greet his captain.

“Thanks, Meian!” The rest of his team-mates came over, joining in a tight hug. “Thanks for putting me in!” He grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“C’mon, Bokuto, let’s go out for drinks!”

“Yeah! We gotta celebrate your first game with us.” Barnes bumped his shoulder against the younger male. Bokuto scanned the audience once more, not quite sure what he was looking for before he dragged his feet after his team-mates. The team moved towards the locker-room, some moving towards the showers. Bokuto took a seat on the bench, opening up his locker to pull out his bag. He unzipped the bag, grabbing his phone. He stared at the screen blankly. (Name)’s face stared back. It was a candid shot of her at their favorite cafe, taken the day that he had left. Whipped cream was smeared on her nose from Bokuto. No new notifications. Bokuto sighed.

“You coming with us?” Meian poked his head around the lockers, about to head to the showers.

“Yeah, lemme just get ready.”

****

A door shut. (Name) let out a deep sigh as she moved through her house. Heels were absentmindedly kicked off in the hallway, a coat was carelessly draped over the sofa, a dress tugged up over her head and dropped onto the ground as she walked towards her room. She collapsed at her vanity, staring at the reflection. Another deep sigh. (Name) reached for the makeup wipes, hand trembling as she began aggressively rubbing at her face. With each swipe of her face, more of her natural skin was revealed. She stopped, her body shaking. “What am I even doing?” Her voice cracked, staring back into dull (e/c) orbs. (Name) shook her head. She missed him. So much. Kuroo was just a friend. One of her best friends. It wasn’t a date. It didn’t mean anything...right? It couldn’t mean anything.

(Name) looked back up at her reflection, a picture in her peripherals snagging her attention. Her entire body shifted, hands reaching out for the frame. As she stared down at the picture, her vision went blurry. Was someone crying? Those sobs were so loud. Oh. Thick, hot droplets fell onto the glass, smearing across Bokuto’s smiling face. It almost looked like he was the one crying. “I miss you so much, Kou.” (Name)’s heart clenched as a feeling of loneliness overwhelmed her.

She stood up, making her way to her bed. Collapsing onto it, she held the picture frame close to her heart. On the nightstand was the owl plush that Bokuto had won all those years ago. (Name) tucked it into her chest against the frame as her entire body began to shake furiously. “Please.” She buried her face into the plushie, a hint of Bokuto’s cologne still desperately clinging to it. “Come back to me.”

****

A month later...

“AGHKAASHI!” The black-haired male looked up to face his friend.

“Bokuto-san.” The former setter nodded at him. “How have you been?”

Bokuto slid into the seat across from his friend, beaming. “I’ve been good! Busy. I rarely have any time for myself.”

Akaashi raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you taking care of yourself?”

Bokuto’s face faltered. “Define taking care of myself.” His eyes glanced down at the menu. “Oh wow, there’s so many options!”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Have you been eating and drinking?”

“Weeeeeell, most of the time!” Bokuto grinned. “Sometimes I get too tired after all the practice to eat.”

At this, Akaashi couldn’t stop the sigh. “Where’s (Name) been? Has she not been helping you?” Bokuto’s face fell, causing Akaashi’s eyes to narrow at him. “Did something happen between you two?” Bokuto lowered his face towards the menu, energetically flipping the pages. “Bokuto-san.” Bokuto winced, mumbling something under his breath. “Bokuto-san, I can’t hear you.” Akaashi sighed.

“I uh...I haven’t talked to her in a while.” Akaashi opened his mouth to ask further when the waitress stopped by at the table. They placed their orders, and she took the menus away. Bokuto’s hands were on top of the table now, fidgeting as he avoided his friend’s eyes.

“Bokuto-san, what do you mean by ‘awhile’? I thought you and (Name) were still together?” Bokuto pulled his phone out attempting to use it as a distraction. “Bokuto-san,” Akaashi warned, tugging the phone out of his hands.

Bokuto sighed, chewing on his bottom lip. “I may have not really talked to her since I left for training.” At this, Akaashi’s eyes widened. “I mean! I tried? I texted her the day of her graduation party but uh,” his entire body drooped, “she never texted me back.” Gold eyes stared at his fingers. Gunmetal blue glowed with pity. Bokuto cleared his throat, picking at a callous. “Have you seen her lately?”

Akaashi hesitated. “No.” He replied finally. “I haven’t seen her since our last hangout before you left. She was at the last gym 3 reunion though.”

Bokuto raised his head, looking out the window. “I’m glad she’s still going out. How was the grad party?”

“I didn’t go. My internship started that week. From what I heard, it was fun.” Akaashi shrugged. “Apparently Kuroo-san hosted.”

Bokuto sent his friend a forlorn smile. “I’m glad my best bro is taking care of her.” For the rest of the meal, Bokuto remained silent. It was odd for Akaashi to see the typically loud wing-spiker so quiet and antisocial. But it gave Akaashi time to think. The former setter surveyed his best friend carefully. Akaashi had known that Bokuto and (Name) had been very much in love the moment that Akaashi had met her. It was a type of love that most people prayed for. So what had happened?

“Oi! Horned owl bastard!”

“Kuroo!”

“What, doesn’t he look like an owl?” Kuroo and (Name) were standing by the entrance of Gym 3 waving in the dual-toned wing-spiker in.

“That doesn’t mean you call him that!” She argued, smacking his chest. Bokuto laughed loudly, tugging on Akaashi’s elbow.

“Hey hey hey! Kuroo, (Nickname)!”

“Hey Kou,” (Name) smiled at him. He swept her into a hug, swinging her around. Their loud laughter filled the gym as Akaashi approached Kuroo.

“Hello, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo’s hazel eyes shifted from Bokuto and (Name), eyeing the setter. “Akaashi, right?” Akaashi nodded. “Come on in, we normally do extra practice after the day ends.” Kuroo clapped an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders, hauling him into the gym. “(Name)! Bokuto brought someone.”

Bokuto was busy cuddling into her, his face buried in her neck as his arms wound tightly around her shape. “Kou!” She squealed, wrestling away. The owl pouted as she ducked out of his arms, walking towards Kuroo and Akaashi. “Akaashi right? Kou never stops talking about you.” She grinned, extending a hand. “It’s nice to officially meet the only other person who can manage him.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, (Name)-san.”

“You don’t have to call me (Name)-san! Just (Name) is fine.”

Bokuto threw his arms around her shoulders, causing her to lurch forward. “(Nickname)! I haven’t been able to see you all day,” he pouted. “Akaashi, stop stealing her attention.”

“Now, now, you clingy owl. Don’t you want to practice?” Kuroo pulled on Bokuto’s collar, dragging him towards the court.

“Sorry about that, Akaashi.” (Name) and Akaashi stood beside each other, watching as Kuroo and Bokuto started arguing about who deserved her attention more. “It’s hard for the both of us—being at different schools I mean.” Her eyes twinkled with affection, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “He definitely got attached to me last year.” Light-hearted giggles. “That’s what I get for making a best friend at another school.” She turned to look at him. “Thank you for taking care of him for me.”

Akaashi nodded at her. “I’ll do it for as long as I can.”

As they stood outside the restaurant, Akaashi gave Bokuto a hug. “Everything will be alright, Bokuto-san. You’re doing great things.” He smiled, holding Bokuto’s phone out. The lock screen flashed on, revealing a picture of a familiar sleeping face. Bokuto slapped Akaashi on the back, and turned to walk away. As he rounded the corner, he stopped to look down at the phone. A tear slipped down his cheek as a shaky finger stroked the screen. Bokuto’s only wish was that it wasn’t cracked glass but was her soft skin instead.

****

Meanwhile...

The door opened, causing both people to look up at it. “Hello again, Ms. (L.Name). Thank you for coming in for the 18-week appointment.” He turned his eyes to Kuroo. “And this must be your husband! It’s nice to meet you, I’m Dr. Ito.” Dr. Ito shook Kuroo’s hand, the male giving him a pleasant smile. (Name) gnawed on her bottom lip, biting back a response denying their relationship. The last thing they wanted was unnecessary judgment regarding her circumstances. If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t even know why she’d asked Kuroo to come. Perhaps it was the flood of loneliness that filled her when she realized her circumstances? “How have you been, Ms. (L.Name)?” Her head snapped up, offering a small smile to the doctor.

“Good! I’ve been eating more protein and taking those Omega-3 vitamins you told me to.”

Dr. Ito hummed, making his way to his seat. “That’s good. Have you noticed any changes with your morning sickness? Any cravings?”

(Name)’s fingers drummed against her thigh, glancing up at Kuroo. Kuroo was seated beside the doorway, hazel eyes carefully observing her. “My morning sickness has been getting a bit better. The ginger tea is helping a lot.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I haven’t really noticed any extra cravings.”

“Sweetheart, you literally asked for sour orange gummies while we were eating that yakiniku,” Kuroo teased. She flushed.

“Okay, maybe I do have some cravings.” (Name) conceded, shooting the male a dirty look. “But it hasn’t gotten to the point where it’s weird stuff like pickles and peanut butter.” Kuroo’s face wrinkled in disgust.

Dr. Ito laughed. “Well, cravings do start getting a lot worse during the second trimester, and you still have a ways to go.” He jotted some notes down. “Would you like to see your baby?”

Her (e/c) eyes widened. “Can I?”

“Yes of course! You might not be able to see much details, but we can definitely do an ultrasound for you now.” She made eye-contact with Kuroo.

“We’d love that.”

“Just give me a second to get prepared.” Dr. Ito snapped a pair of gloves on, pulling out a container of gel and the ultrasound device. He gently rubbed the gel onto her stomach, causing her to flinch.

“Oh wow, that’s cold,” she giggled, feeling self-conscious. The baby bump had gotten slightly more noticeable.

“Dad, you can stand over here.” Dr. Ito directed, gesturing for Kuroo to stand beside (Name). Dr. Ito dragged the device across her stomach, the image coming onto the monitor. “Look Mama, your baby is developing just fine. A little smaller than typical, but they’re doing just fine. If you want, we can tell you the gender now?” Kuroo placed a hand onto her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. His eyes sparkled as he looked in awe, hazel orbs shifting between the screen and her.

Tears pricked at her eyes. “No, it’s okay,” she whispered. “I wanna be surprised.”

“No worries.” A sudden noise from the machine startled her.

“What’s that?” Kuroo inquired, searching the screen for an answer

“That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”

(Name) sniffled, tears cascading down her cheek. She looked up, a hand squeezing his as she blinked furiously. Is this what it’d be like if Bokuto was here? More tears streamed down. “Look at that, baby,” Kuroo cooed, his other hand coming up to brush her tears away. A tear escaped his eye now. “You’re doing a great job, Mama.” Her eyes squeezed shut, leaning into his warm embrace. At least she wouldn’t be alone. Not anytime soon.

Fun Facts:

💟 Kuroo had booked the reservations a month in advance

💟 The first time (Name) and Kuroo had held hands was in elementary school after he accidentally spiked her in the face with a volleyball

💟 The only time (Name) missed one of Bokuto’s games was when Nekoma was playing or if she had school. She attended all of the Fukurodani practice matches and even the matches of Bokuto’s college team.

💟 (Name) and Bokuto frequented the cafe so often that the owners named a pastry after them

💟 It took Bokuto five times to win (Name) the owl plushie.

💟 Since they had graduated, Akaashi trusted (Name) to take care of Bokuto and would often Facetime the couple every few weeks to catch up

💟 Out of everyone from Nekoma, Akaashi likes (Name) the most. Kenma is his second favorite.

💟 When (Name) asked for the sour gummy worms, Kuroo had laughed so much that he accidentally burned their food.

💟 (Name) heard “Take a Break” in her mind when Kuroo said “Look at that, baby”, but she didn’t mention it to anyone. Nor did she admit to herself how it made her feel (visit the link for an explanation)

AN: I’m debating switching my schedule so that “Lockscreens” updates on Thursdays instead of Fridays. What do y’all think?

LMK what y’all think of the fun facts too!

Oh yeah, requests are still open for the 150 follower celebration!

Taglist: @toaster-stick @thatartsybitch @brazil-hinata @sawamooora @lastminaddition @anejuuuuoy @abby-rutledge20 @babybluebisexual @badboysdoitbetter2 @liathachcapricious @cosmiclunas @wishingforanother@toobsessedsstuff @setterfish @yeehawslap @shadowkunoichi @haikyuusimp91 @firebonbon @mentalydisturbed @samkysnks

(If your name is bolded, I had trouble tagging you! If I accidentally missed you, please shoot me an ask!)

Please message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💞

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years ago

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MTTT AU ft. Padmé in PJs eating take out aka Chapter 7: A Connection - Padmé

Padmé had known from the first moment on that a secret relationship wouldn’t be easy to manage, no matter how used she was to keeping quiet and handling too many duties at once.

All Anakin and she had were stolen moments in the shadows, here and there a few hours in her apartment, and maybe, if she got a little reckless again and had a stroke of luck, a shared mission.

Padmé missed her husband, she did, but they had chosen this fate themselves and now they had to carry its burden. Maybe once the war was over, something would change. They hadn’t talked about it yet, not really, there had never been the time for it. Not to mention, who wanted to think of the hassle that was people’s expectations of them when they could instead make the best they were given at the present. She dared to imagine soft afternoons on Naboo at times, when she was still in bed, sleep chasing her, but that was about it.

Maybe Anakin would leave the Order for her, maybe Padmé would… She didn’t even know what she could do. She just knew that it couldn’t go on like this, not until the end of time. She wanted to show Anakin off to her family, tell them what an amazing husband she had and she wanted to go dancing with him, have a meal at a fancy restaurant, and return to Naboo with him for at least the High Holy Days to watch the fireworks and put candles on the lakes.

But not right now, nothing was possible right now. They were at war and Padmé shouldn’t indulge in such flimsy dreams. Unfortunately, when she was close to Anakin, it was so easy to get lost in dreams.

Anakin wasn’t here right now, but weeks away, somewhere in the Outer Rim, fighting yet another endless battle whose victory never seemed to matter too much in the long run.

The more war reports she read and the more she fought in the Senate, the more convinced did Padmé become that they were sending the Jedi out to fight for nothing. The thought of losing Anakin to this senseless war made her stomach turn. Padmé worried about him constantly. She knew he was strong, the Republic hadn’t dubbed him its Hero with no Fear for nothing after all, but she knew better.

Anakin was afraid all the time, sometimes so much that it stopped him from speaking, left him haunted by nightmares he couldn’t shake.

When she asked about it, he quickly switched the topic. Padmé knew that she ought to do better and get Anakin to talk to her, but she was only human and a relationship always required two people doing their best.

And it required that they actually had time to talk.

Padmé glanced at her datapad. Its screen was still dark, taunting her. It had been a month since Anakin’s last message. They tried to message each other as often as possible, exchanging I love yous coded into descriptions of flowers and ship parts. They had to be careful, could never say a word too much that could be used against them at a later date. Nobody was to discover their secrets and so Padmé spun lies upon lies to keep everybody unaware.

She wondered what lies Anakin told Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and every other member of his Order. When the war had just started, Padmé hadn’t been too kind to the Jedi, thinking of their rules as strict and their prohibitions as arbitrary, but more and more she was coming to understand that there was a reason for it all.

You could not be a devout Jedi and pour everything into serving the Republic and then still give everything you have for a family outside of the Order. While it had taken her a while to realize it, Padmé could empathize with the sentiment. It was very much the same with her and her family. Each time they asked her to come home, Padmé still picked the Senate over them. She had a duty to the galaxy and if the price for it was this isolation from them, then she could bear it. She had her allies and friends here on Coruscant, her sisters in all but blood, and she had Anakin.

When he was there.

And actually replied to her message.

She hadn’t heard any great news about him or the 501st at large. As far as she was aware, they were still operating as always, running their missions and following orders. Anakin couldn’t be dead, the Republic would be in an uproar.

The thought was a bittersweet relief at least. She couldn’t even count the times she had thought Anakin dead on two hands anymore. He was always in so much danger – she constantly feared that today would be the day he wouldn’t return to her anymore.

If he died tomorrow, what were the last words they exchanged? The last kiss they had shared? Padmé didn’t want to think of herself as fair Veré, who thought of herself as the widow of Set who had gone to live amongst the stars long before her dear husband actually had.

She shook her head. She shouldn’t think so negatively. She had thousands of other things to worry about. New bills, the assassin that was after her and had somehow managed to poison her favorite dessert – she couldn’t spare more than one moment’s thought on the state of her husband.

She was never just Anakin Skywalker’s wife.

She didn’t want to be.

Padmé had always been a greedy child, though her parents had liked to call her ambitious instead. Padmé had wanted to do good and she had wanted to do it herself. She was unsure whether it was that she didn’t trust others enough for it or if a lothcat just couldn’t change its spots, but even when she let herself be distracted by sweet kisses, half her mind was somewhere else.

One of these days it was going to be too much.

Padmé stood up from her sofa, throwing another glance at her traitorous datapad before sighing, then she walked into the kitchen, searching for something edible after a long day. There she went to open her fridge, trying to find something good and fresh to eat, only to be severely disappointed. Her fridge was a sad and desolate space, stocked with only one take-out container and two fruits that were already starting to look moldy. Padmé vaguely recalled how well-stocked her fridge had been with delicacies from Naboo when she had started her term as a Senator. Imports from her homeworld had become extremely expensive.

Padmé was almost a little ashamed to admit she wouldn’t mind accepting one of Palpatine’s dinner proposals only to get her hands on one of the parfaits she used to stuff her mouth with as a kid.

Once Anakin was back, she’d get him to cook something for her. She hadn’t expected him to be good at it, but he was a surprisingly great cook. On the few days they had had on Naboo together after Geonosis, he had pretty much taken over the kitchen within minutes of seeing her attempt at cutting an onion. He had still required her presence and aid at times, unused to his new prosthetic, but even then he had given her instructions on how to properly cut vegetables and fruits. Padmé had never been someone for cooking, it was a trouble and she had never had the time to learn. Perhaps she should start to, people did say that stress baking helped, though she wouldn’t know where to fit a cooking class into her busy schedule.

In the end, Padmé grabbed the take-out box from Dex’s – her new favorite place to order food at – and warmed it up. After it was done, she considered putting the contents of the box on a plate to make it look like she had put at least some effort into the meal. Demotivated she looked at the white container. If she grabbed a plate, she’d just have to clean that as well and there was no point to it if it was really just her. Padmé fished a fork out of her drawer and walked back to her living room. She didn’t even bother sitting down at her dinner table and instead got comfortable on her couch. What a mighty picture she made, former Queen of Naboo, slouching on her sofa, eating takeout in her PJs like an overworked university student.

Not that Padmé really knew what university life was like. Her handmaidens and she had been educated by private tutors who had given them an extensive overview in whatever subjects they needed or desired. As Padmé dug into her food, she considered whether the time she had needed to read up on archeology digs on Archeron Prime 2 in five minutes because nobody else had wanted to deal with ancient sites conversation and so had dumped it on her, had been similar enough to the common student experience.

Padmé was contemplating turning on a holomovie when finally, after weeks, her datapad chimed with a light ringtone, one she had assigned only to one person.

As quickly as possible, she shoved her food off her legs and reached for datapad. She hadn’t even swallowed her food completely when she hit the accept for the incoming call. Finally, Anakin had had the time to call her. She had so much she wanted to tell him-

“Senator Amidala?”

Padmé stared at the small blue hologram that very much did not depict her husband, but instead his young and small Padawan, looking as exhausted as Padmé felt.

Suddenly, Padmé became all too aware of her looks.

She took pride in her dresses, it was part of Naboo custom and one’s appearance in the public sphere was immensely important. She didn’t exactly look like a dedicated politician right now.

“Padawan Tano,” Padmé greeted Ahsoka, hoping her formal tone could save the situation at least a little. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to answer.”

Inwardly, Padmé cringed. Great, of course, she had to imply that she had thought she could answer Anakin’s call dressed like this. The day was just getting better and better. She couldn’t wait for it to be over.

If Ahsoka had anything to say about the way Padmé dressed, she didn’t let it show.

“I know, I’m sorry for calling you at this hour from my Master’s device, I wanted to talk to you and I didn’t have your number,” the youngling sounded like she was honestly sorry about it.

Padmé’s face softened. “There’s nothing to forgive, Ahsoka. Tell me, why are you calling me? You know I will never mind a call from you.”

“I- thank you. I’m calling about my Master.”

Ahsoka bit her lip and Padmé’s heartbeat sped up.

Oh no. Had Anakin said something? Had Ahsoka discovered their relationship? A thousand thoughts ran through her mind. This was the precise reason they were keeping it a secret still. Padmé couldn’t afford a scandal, Anakin needed to fight and they couldn’t put their friends between their duties and keeping their secret.

Well, Padmé should have known even their luck had to run out sometime.

“Ahsoka, look-“

“Did my master say anything to you before our battle on Temetha last month?” Asoka suddenly blurted out. “Anything strange? Weird? Bad?”

Their battle on-

Yes, Padmé remembered it. She had kept a keen eye on that one. It had been bound to be a difficult one according to the reports and it had also been the last major battle that Anakin had actively fought in as far as the news had been concerned. Ever since he had been on radio silence between her and Anakin. Nothing new of course, but she had still felt like something was going on behind the scenes.

“No,” Padmé said. “Nothing. Anakin and I had just talked about…”

Padmé grimaced. She was almost embarrassed to say that they had chatted about cheap romance novels and even worse holomovies. It had been such a dumb and random topic, childish almost, but it had occurred to her that she had no idea what kind of stories Anakin liked and enjoyed in his free time. They had decided to do a movie marathon the next time he was back on Coruscant, despite the fact that he desperately needed the time to recover and sleep, not spend hours awake with her.

“We talked about nothing really, just hobbies,” Padmé said. “Why? Did something happen?”

Ahsoka’s expression darkened.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she started slowly.

Padmé contemplated stopping Ahsoka right then and there. The poor teenager was going through enough, Padmé shouldn’t use her distress to her own gain, but where else was she going to get information about Anakin?

“Did something happen to Anakin?”

Ahsoka hesitated, her eyes darted to somewhere in her room that Padmé couldn’t see.

“He was injured in the aftermath of the battle,” Ahsoka revealed. “And I don’t know how. The machines say he’s fine.”

The machines. What machines? Had it been vital? Was he comatose? Was that the reason she hadn’t heard a word from him, was the army keeping it under wraps as to not cause distress? What other secrets were they hiding-

Padmé’s growing panic must have shown on her face as Ahsoka reassured her quickly.

“He’s fine now! Or as fine as he can be at least. He won’t talk to me about anything anymore. Obi-Wan’s training me right now too because Anakin can’t.”

Padmé’s thoughts traveled to those days on Naboo in the aftermath of Geonosis. Anakin’s hadn’t been given the time he needed to recover properly and get used to his new prosthetic before he’d been sent out to fight in the front and yet, somehow, he was one of their strongest fighters. Had he lost another limb? How many weeks would they give him off this time if it had already been a month?

“I just thought you might know something,” Ahsoka finally finished. “Master Skywalker speaks very highly of you, you’re friends?”

“Very close friends, yes,” Pamdé told Ahsoka. “We met when we were just children. Anakin helped my planet considerably at the time.”

“Really?” Ahsoka asked, light returning to her eyes.

Perhaps Padmé would have to call Obi-Wan later, or see if she could get someone to tell her what was truly going on with the 501st.

Until then she had a Padawan to calm down.

“I can’t believe Anakin never shared this story with you. Let me tell you all about it,” Padmé said. “I was 14 and had been elected the Queen of Naboo…”

Padmé ended up talking for hours or so it felt like, much longer than she did with Anakin as he hardly had the time for it. When Padmé was done talking about her and Anakin’s first meeting and the consequent fight with the Trade Federation, she began regaling Ahsoka with more stories about her term as a queen. By the time the Padawan had to go again, Ahsoka was still bothered by her worry for her master, but at least she was smiling again.

Padmé ended the call and took a deep breath. She looked at her now cold dinner and the dark night sky.

Then she stood up and got to work.

#star wars #padmé amidala #anidala #ahsoka tano #medical trauma time travel AU #fanfic #update twice a week and then not for a month #this is just my new MO

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waywardbeanie · 4 years ago

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A Man of Letters - Chapter Ten

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Summary: It started as a simple hunt for Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean didn’t realize that this single case would change his life forever. Now they are on the biggest mission of their lives, and without the use of cellphones, the only way he can communicate with the love of his life is through old fashioned letter writing. He has done everything in his power to keep her safe, but will it be enough? Word Count: 7212 (ish)

Series Warnings: Language, slow burn, angst, smut, alcohol consumption, fluff, SPN typical violence (individual chapters will contain relevant warnings) a little meta Chapter Warning: IT’S CHRISTMAS, humor (Is that really a warning?) and a little bit of sweet.(Always), angst, spicy (smut), unprotected (ish) sex

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read this series so far, I have loved writing it and watching the characters grow. I appreciate EVERY ONE OF YOU who are taking this journey with me. We are a little less than half way there so BUCKLE UP!

Thank you to my beta @winchest09 and my mind melder, idea bouncer and my cheerleader @whatareyousearchingfordean I would be lost without you both!

Thank you to @talesmaniac89 she is the gif MASTER!

MASTERLIST A Man of Letters

If you’d like to be tagged, my list is open. Just send me an ask HERE: **Make sure you check out the playlist, it is updated every chapter and an essential part of the story**

Spotify Playlist : A Man of Letters

Catch up here >>>>>>> A Man of Letters Masterlist

This series is ongoing!

No Gif’s are mine

Y/F/N “Santa’s Little Helper” Y/L/N

127 Washington St

Lincoln, NE 68506

Babe,

I will tell you it took me a few minutes to read your letter because I just wanted to look at the pictures that you sent. You're right, one of us in bed being lazy is my new favorite. The way you smile in that picture is exactly how you smile at me when you wake up in the morning. I love it on the one hand, but it's sad too. If I close my eyes and it's quiet, I can almost imagine myself back there. I love the one at the bonfire. That hangover was awful, it's a great picture, and we look like we are having fun. How do you think I would forget the beach picture with my favorite bathing suit? I can tell you that you went to the edge of the water to wash your feet and legs off. I called your name, you looked at me over your shoulder and blew me a kiss, right before you laughed and I took the picture.

Thank you for sending them, just like with all the photos you take they tell a story, I'm just lucky enough to be in your story. That first Thanksgiving together was awesome, we had so many people we care about there. Sam and I had a real Thanksgiving meal that wasn't from a gas station or TV dinner. Of course, thinking of that makes me think about Christmas. You went out of your way to make it memorable. I had never had a real tree that I remember, but cutting down my own? I didn't realize what I was missing. Christmas morning was still the best. I still can't figure out how you and Sam were able to pull it off.

We have gone on three raids since your last letter and have come up with a lot of nothing. They knew we were coming, that is the only thing I can think of. Sam and I talked about it, we have an idea that maybe someone around here is running their mouth, so we are locking shit down. Unless we need to go for supplies, everyone stays here; if they go out, it's in pairs now. We did find a couple of ledgers that were left behind. Charlie is putting them all into a computer and will try to make sense of them or decide if they were left there to throw us off the trail. We are still training; sometimes, I get so angry; it's what gets me through.

I sat down with Sam the other day and finally told him my plan. I was going to wait until this job was over, but I honestly thought this job would have already been over. He blew my mind when he told me he was surprised I hadn't done it already. He said he knew by that first Christmas that it was just a matter of time, that I would leave this life behind within five years. He knew I couldn't walk away until we wrapped things up as neatly as possible, which, as you know, is why I'm on this job. I no longer feel like I'm walking away from my brother, but that I'm walking towards something, I'm just fucking ready.

Before I sign off, I want to tell you how proud I am that you were chosen again as the official photographer! You are so good; there is no one else they could have picked! I hope I have better news next time, but unless something breaks soon, I won't be back in time to help with the parade this year, but I know you will be great! Watch your back until I can.

I Love You,

2 ½ years ago

Tink: Sam, I need your help with something.

Sam: Are you okay?

Tink: Yes, I'm fine; it's about a present for Dean. Can you talk?

Sam: He is sitting right next to me.

Tink: Can you get up?

Sam: We are in the car

Tink: You didn't tell him it was me texting you, did you? I want it to be a surprise.

Sam: No, but he is starting to give me weird looks.

Tink: Can you see the face I'm giving you right now, Sam? This is a SECRET

Sam: okay well stop saying shit that makes me laugh because he just asked me who I was texting like a schoolgirl

Tink: Ugh!. Can you call me when you guys get to the motel, but it should be before or after Dean calls. Please. Shhh a SECRET

Sam: I'll call before because you guys are on the phone half the night, and I'm not staying up that late.

Tink: I'm STILL giving you the face Sam

Sam: Okay, I'll call. I got to go. Dean just rolled down the window and is giving me a look. I'm not going to lose another one of my phones so ttyl.

Standing side by side, arms crossing their chest in matching poses, they studied the tree that they put in the stand in the front living room window.

Y/N pressed her lips together in a line, "I think it needs to go on the back porch; it's too big."

"What!" Dean cried, "It's perfect. I just might need to trim it a little."

She shook her head, disagreeing with him, "It's wider than I am tall at the bottom and-" she gestured to the ceiling laughing, "-it's all scrunched up at the top, like by a foot. We would have to put a dangly star ornament as a tree topper. The tree is actually bent over."

"Okay," he chuckled, "It might be a little bigger in this room than I thought it would be."

"Dean," she pointed to the tree, "there is actually a picture window behind that tree, but you can't tell because it's so…" she gestured her hands around.

"Fluffy?" Dean suggested.

Y/N giggled, "first of all, hearing you say the word fluffy, makes me laugh. Second, if we light a fire in the fireplace, that tree will go up in smoke."

"You know, Babe," Dean said, bumping her hip, wiggling his eyebrows, "fluffy could be our safe word."

"Really?" she questioned, rolling her eyes with a smile, "since when do we need a safe word? I don't need one. Do you need one?"

He pulled her into his arms, brushed her hair away from her face as he dragged his teeth along her jaw; he continued to kiss down her neck, his scruff marking her neck.

"Codeword," was her breathless response.

"Huh?" he pulled away looking at her.

With a smirk, she focused on his face. "Fluffy should be the code word to why we can't ever get anything done when you are here."

"That sounds like you're complaining."

"Uh...no that is not complaining, it is an observation." She flashed him her brightest smile as she fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Complaining would be bitching that I could sit in the kitchen; and hang ornaments on the tree." Dean took that moment to look at her, to appreciate the woman in his life. She made his heart sing whenever she was near. Not wanting to waste another second, he hauled her body to his, crushing his mouth to hers, swallowing the gasp of shock; taking the opportunity of her open mouth to deepen the kiss. His tongue dancing with hers, he moved his hand up, pulling off her knit hat and entangling his fingers into the hair at the base of her skull, pulling her closer as a moan rumbled through his chest. With her hands fisted in his jacket, they broke away, catching their breath. Her lips quirked up in a smile as she looked up at him.

"See?" she pointed out, "you distract me with all of your flannel lumberjackness."

He chucked, "Well, I did just chop down our first Christmas tree, even if we had to wait for Christmas Eve to do it."

"Hmm," she hummed, eyeing the tree out of the corner of her eye. "Do you need help with whatever we are doing with it?"

"Nah," he said, pulling his gloves out of his back pocket, "Sammy will be here soon, he can help me with it. I'm just going to drag it back outside".

"Hold on," she said, pulling her phone out of her back pocket, "let's take a picture in front of the tree first." They stood in front of the tree, as she snapped the selfie as they both wore matching cheesy grins.

Sam got to Y/N's bungalow just as Dean finished bringing the tree out the front door. They worked together to cut it down, shaking all the snow off before bringing it back into the house. Y/N was in the kitchen, pulling out the cornbread she made to serve with the chili that had been cooking all day in the crockpot. After they ate, Dean helped her get the ornaments out of the attic. She had already decorated the rest of the house weeks earlier but wanted to wait for him to get the tree. After dinner, Y/N turned on the Christmas music as she made hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps; she brought it into the living room, standing back to watch Sam and Dean pass the lights back and forth, wrapping the tree with them.

"Hey Babe," Dean looked back at her, motioning to the tree, "what do you think? Pretty great, huh?"

"It's beautiful," she smiled. "I made some hot chocolate," she gestured, holding up the Santa Claus mugs, "to drink while we hang ornaments." They both looked at her with matching scrunched noses and raised eyebrows.

Rolling her eyes, she held out the mugs, "Try it, before you start making those faces at me. "Have I ever made you anything you didn't like?”

"Butter beans," Dean mumbled.

Y/N exhaled a long breath. "Does it look like I'm trying to give you a mug of butter beans? Whatever-" she set the mugs on the coffee table, "you guys are missing out." With that, she wrapped her hands around her cup and took a long drink.

"Y/N, don't be mad," Sam said, picking up the mug. "I'm sure it's good hot chocolate." Taking a sip, his eyes grew large. "Damn, Y/N, these taste like Girl Scout cookies."

"What?" Dean questioned, picking up his mug, "I love Girl Scout cookies."

"No kidding." Y/N deadpanned.

Taking a swig, he licked his lips, "It tastes like the Thin Mints."

"You don't say," she said looking over the rim of her mug as she took another drink.

"Well, you didn't say you made hot chocolate that tastes like cookies."

"Anyway," she set her mug down, "I got you both something, I want you to open before we hang up ornaments.” She walked over to the fireplace decorated with pine garland, multiple sized white candles scattered over the entire mantle. Tucked in the corner, were two small gifts wrapped in white tissue paper. She handed Dean the one with the red ribbon and Sam the one with the green ribbon.

"Wait," Dean said, turning the small package in his hand, "Are we doing presents now?"

Y/N shook her head, "This is just a small thing I made for you guys, go on, open them."

She bit her lip as she watched them pull the ribbon and tear open the paper. Inside they each found an "S" and a "D," respectively made of thin wood with a ribbon attached at the top. On each was multiple pictures of themselves decoupaged on the letter.

"I forget how many pictures you take," Sam said, holding it up by the strip of cloth as he studied it, "it's an ornament, right?"

"It is," she smiled. "I wanted you each to have your very own ornament to hang on the tree too."

As Dean stared at the ornament, studying the pictures, he mumbled almost to himself, "I can't remember ever having my own ornament before."

Before she knew it, they had both engulfed her in a hug, squeezing her. "I. Can't. Breathe," came her muffled plea.

Sam stepped back, his hand rubbing her upper arm. "Thank you, Tink, this means so much."

Dean took the opportunity to pull her against his chest, his lips brushing the shell of her ear squeezing her just a little tighter "Babe, you have no idea how special this is.”

They turned the Christmas music up as they hung ornaments on the tree with a couple for refills of the spiked hot chocolate and the cookies she had made earlier. After they finished, Dean built a fire in the fireplace as Y/N put all of the presents under the tree. They sat around the living room, the only illumination from the tree and the fire. Dean settled in his "spot" on the couch, draping his arm over the back, Y/N lying next to him, with her toes tucked under his thigh. At this point, it was a habit; it's how they always sat there together.

Sam sat across from them on one of the comfy chairs. She shared stories of when she was a kid at Christmas, and Sam and Dean shared some stories of how they spent their holidays. She made them tell her a couple of stories twice. Her favorite was of them bursting into this Rent-a-Santa trailer because they thought he was murdering someone, but he was just smoking pot, getting drunk, and watching porn, so they sang Silent Night to get out of it.

Standing up, Sam stretched his arms over his head, yawning. "I'm going head to bed."

"Night Sammy," they said in unison.

Raising his eyebrows, he shook his head at them with a huff of laughter, "Yeah, see you two in the morning."

He made this way to the second bedroom of Y/N's bungalow. It was her office, but she had also made it into a guest room for him. He quietly closed the door, pulled off his clothes, folded them, and placed them on the chair. He pulled on his flannel sleep pants and a clean t-shirt. He slipped into the crisp sheets of his bed; he laced his fingers behind his head and settled into his pillow with a smile. He could hear the hum of voices from the living room as he let his mind wander.

Sam could see the changes in Dean since he met Y/N, especially when he was here. Dean was very tight-lipped about her unless it was just the two of them, but he could tell Dean was trying to put things in order. He knew he wasn't going to leave things unfinished. Now that Gabriel is back, it was just a matter of time before they could open the rift again to get Mom and Jack. After they were home safe, he knew Dean was going to walk away from hunting; his priorities had changed. It wasn't that Dean didn't want or think people needed saving; he was just tired.

Dean talked more to Sam about how he felt since Y/N came into their lives than all of the years before. There were little snippets here and there, but Sam paid attention. It was the little things that he said and, maybe louder, were the things he didn't. Sam knew Dean had sacrificed so much, had saved him so many times, hell, they both had, but this time he knew it was going to be for good. Once Dean walked away, he would never come back. That didn't make him angry, it scared him, if Dean wasn't there he had some big shoes to fill, Sam wasn't sure that he was good or strong enough to do what Dean has done for all of these years, but Sam was willing to try because after everything his brother had done for him, this was the thing he could do for Dean. Closing his eyes with a smile, he listened to the murmur of their voices and the soft sound of Christmas music as he fell asleep.

Standing up, Dean reached his hand out to Y/N, slipping her hand in his, he pulled her from the couch.

"Come on, Babe," he smiled as he led her in front of the fireplace, the twinkling lights from the tree bouncing around the room.

Dean pulled her to him, took her right hand in his and rested his hand at the small of Y/N's back. "Dancing with you, this is one of your favorite Christmas songs."

She tilted her head to listen, hearing Michael Bublé singing, "I'll Be Home For Christmas."

As he rubbed his thumb across the top of her hand, she smiled up at him as they moved around the living room.

"Dean, you hate dancing."

"But, you don't," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her lips, "besides, I don't hate dancing. How could I hate something that means I can have you right here in my arms."

It was in that moment that Y/N’s heart swelled, an overwhelming feeling of admiration and love for the man holding her flooded her soul. She pulled back slightly, capturing the look of his green eyes twinkling in the firelight. “I lo-” she began, her mouth snapping shut as her lips closed, heat creeping up her face as he raised his eyebrow. Her mouth hung agape for a second, as she tried to find the words to cover up her stumble. “I-I love this song, this time of year,” she stammered, lowering her eyes to fixate on the collar of his shirt. She reached up to start fixing it, “so, so much,” she finished in a mumble.

Dean slowed the dancing, his eyes not once moving from her face as she fumbled with the clothes he was wearing. He knew he needed to do something, they had been dancing around the ‘L’ word for months but this is the closest one of them had come to saying it. The silence in the air was palpable and Dean swallowed hard. Before he could even begin to take an action, Y/N cleared her throat.

“Anyway, I think that’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard come out for your mouth,” she chuckled, her nerves engulfing her as she rested her forehead against his chest.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Eh, I've had better lines, and worse," he chuckled, deciding to let the near slip up slide.

"Great."

"Come on Babe, you know it's not like that anymore, I flirt if I need information, but that's it."

She lifted her head to look at him, "I'm not worried, Dean. We talk pretty much every night, and you come here every chance you can, even when you are all banged up after a job. I mean, I never thought I would learn how to stitch a person up." Rubbing her hand up and down his back she smiled. "The women don't concern me, they can't help themselves. I mean, look how they act around here, and I'm with you.”

"They are just trying to be helpful."

"Hmm," she hummed. "Yeah, they want to help you do something."

"It doesn't matter; I usually don't notice until you start laughing." He smirked

"Exactly! That's what makes it so funny. They are falling all over you, and you don't even notice. Then I start laughing because it is so obvious and that's when you start looking around. That's one of the reasons I know I have nothing to worry about. Women aren't my concern; it's your job." She ran the back of her fingers along his scruffy jaw, looking into his deep green eyes. "I can't imagine anyone is as good as you are; it just scares me sometimes. I know you went to Hell and the Mark of Cain, what if something happens like that again?"

He stopped swaying to the music as he captured her hand and held it against his face. "Y/N, I would be lying if I didn't say what we do isn't dangerous, I'm not going to blow smoke, but it isn't like it used to be, I know I have Sam, but now I also have you. I know what is important."

"Dean, what if you don't have a choice?"

"There is always a choice, Babe. Team Free Will and all, I'll be fine."

"Just come back to me, please don't make Sam have to make that phone call."

Leaning down, he kissed her tenderly. "Always Babe. I will always come back to you."

"You better," she sniffed.

"Hey," he chuckled "No, crying, it's Christmas."

"I'm not crying," she smiled through her tears, "I have allergies."

He wiped her tears with his fingers, then wiped them on his jeans. "You know we have danced to like three songs by now."

"Well, I guess that will at least get you to New Year's Eve" she laughed

They blew out the candles and tapped down the fire, leaving the tree lights on and headed to bed. Dean stripped down to his boxers, and Y/N changed into a t-shirt with her boy shorts. Crawling under the covers, Dean turned off the bedside lamp and pulled her into his side, her head resting against his chest and listened to his heart's steady beat.

Dean blinked open his eyes as he found himself lying on his side, Y/N's back pressed against his chest, his arm draped around her waist. He breathed deep, his nose ghosting her exposed neck. Then she did it again, she began to push against him, and grind into him in her sleep, a soft moan escaping her lips as she felt his erection pressing against her, inflaming his need. He pulled her body tighter against him as he rubbed his hardness against her, eliciting another moan from Y/N. She woke up and turned her head to him with a sleepy smile before he captured her lips with a deep kiss. Rolling her on her back, he began to kiss down her neck, his shirt that she had claimed from him months ago in his way. Sitting back on his heels between her legs, he grabbed the hem of the t-shirt and unceremoniously yanked it off and threw it on the floor. She had gotten him so worked up that he was on a mission. Running his hands up her thigh, he settled his fingers in the crease of her legs, his thumbs brushing against the material of her boy shorts. A gasp escaped her lips as his thumbs continued to rub her through the cloth.

"It looks like I wasn't the only one getting worked up this morning," he grinned. Y/N tried to move closer, but he held her in place. He leaned down, ran his tongue alongside the band of her underwear, pulling a whimper from her as her hips involuntarily bucked.

"Dean," she whined, "stop teasing and get moving, I'm about to lose my damn mind here.”

He pulled off her underwear in one swift move. As his eyes focused on her hip, he stopped moving; an eerie growl rumbling through his chest. Mesmerized, his fingertips reached out, tracing the ink there. The tattoo is the size of his fist and is an anti possession matching the one on his chest; his eyes snapped to hers as he sees a vulnerability in her as she watches him, the need to protect her exploding inside of him.

"When did you do this?" he rasps.

"Sam helped me two weeks ago," she whispered, now not so sure by the look on his face that she had done the right thing.

"Why?" he croaked.

"Because you were worried about me, and-" she stuttered, "-and I thought if I did this, you wouldn't be as stressed out."

His heart beat hard in his chest as his vision danced between her new ink and her eyes. Y/E/C orbs that were clearly showing Dean her raw feelings for him. It was then that he questioned why it took him so long to tell her how he felt, always running away from others who tried to share their heart with him. Yet maybe it was because Dean was always running to her, even before he even knew she existed. As he ran his thumb over her hip, he knew he needed to tell her; he had to, his chest ached at the thought he had kept those words to himself for so long. A slow, peaceful grin spread across his face he laid down next to her, pulling her into his arms. She slowly brushed her finger over the tattoo on his chest.

"Dean?" she questions with an anxious tone, her heart sinking, afraid that she had gotten it all wrong.

He swallows a lump in his throat as the words his heart demands that he speak, wage war within him. What if in telling Y/N, the forces outside his control tear her away from him? But, if he doesn't tell her soon, will she walk away with the belief that none of this was real?

He brushes her hair away from her face as he cups her cheek, lifting her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes are glassy as she blinks back at him; she feels lost. Usually, she is strong and fierce, but she feels on the verge of despair right now. Smiling softly, he tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"I want you to be safe; I need you to be, you to know you can always count on me.”

"You can count on me too, Dean, always."

He nodded his head, his smile never wavering, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he pulled back.

"I love you, Y/N.” His words whispered against her skin, “I've loved you for so long that it's hard for me to remember when I didn't. You have changed my life in ways I didn't think were possible." He pulled in a shaky breath, feeling the weight lifting off his shoulders as he found the courage to tell her. "I want you to know that I am all in Babe, I want it all with you."

A sound between a sob and a laugh escapes her lips, tears roll down her face, but the smile she gives him is like the brightest sun in a clear blue sky. He looked down to notice the pure joy radiating from her.

Bringing her hand to his cheek, she tries to speak, her throat clogged with emotion. "I love you too, Dean. Oh my God-" she laughs, “you have no idea”

He rested his forehead against hers, voice cracking, "I love you so fucking much, Babe."

He pressed his lips softly to Y/N's before deepening the kiss. He urged her back onto the mattress, holding his weight above her on his elbows just as a loud banging sounded on the wooden bedroom door, shaking it in its frame. Breaking the kiss, he looks towards the door, "Sam; I swear to God-"

"-get your asses up," Sam calls through the door. "It's Christmas, and we have presents to open."

"Sam!" he barks, "Not now."

He can hear Sam's laughter through the door while Y/N is chuckling underneath him.

Turning back to her, a quirk to his lips, he whispered huskily, "We were having a moment here."

"He has radar remember," she giggles a little louder.

The pounding on the door begins again, "Let's go!"

“We will be out in a minute!" Dean snaps.

"I don't believe you," Sam continues to bang on the door with his fist. Consistent, not stopping.

Dean moves off the bed jerking his jeans up off the floor, tugging them on as Y/N scrambles to pull on her shorts and t-shirt. Storming over to the door, Dean grabs the doorknob and whips the door open.

"Dude," he snarls.

"Morning," Sam smiles, taking a drink of his mug of coffee, "you guys up?"

Dean looks incredulously at his brother, "You're kidding me right now?"

A burst of laughter comes from behind him as Y/N tries to squeeze her way through the doorway, pausing to plant a kiss between Dean's shoulder blades. "Come on, let's get some coffee and I'll put the cinnamon rolls in the oven," she says, speaking against his naked back.

"Oh, good," Sam chuckles, stepping back, "I'm starving."

Walking back in the room, Dean grabs his shirt pulling it over his head, mumbling, "I hope you choke on them, Sammy, I hope you choke."

Standing around the island, they each had their second mug of coffee in their hand, the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls drifting through the kitchen.

"Hmm," Y/N hummed, "You know what sounds good with cinnamon rolls."

"Bacon," Dean announced.

"Exactly," she smiled, setting down her coffee, making her way to the door, "I think I have some in the garage freezer. Let me go check."

Sam shook his head at Dean, "Dude; I think you broke Tink."

"Huh?"

"I think you broke her. When we first met her, she made egg white omelets with spinach and mushrooms and now-" Sam gestured to the garage, "-she is making bacon and cinnamon rolls."

Making his way to the coffee machine, he points his mug at Sam. "First, I'd like to think that I helped her, but honestly, I think she still eats that crap when I'm not here."

"Oh, you mean healthy."

"Whatever," he visibly shivered.

"Maybe she will bring you over to the light side yet."

"Sammy, vegetables are the work of the devil, I'm not doing it."

Sipping his coffee, he smiled, "We'll see."

Glancing at the garage door, he looked back, catching Sam's eye. "Hey, I owe you one, man."

"What are you talking about?"

"Y/N, you helped her, you know with the-" he motioned to his hip, "anti-possession tat."

"You know, it was her idea," he shrugged. "She was a champ too, she barely flinched."

"Yeah," Dean smiled, "my girl is a lot tougher than she looks."

"Tink has to be," his brother smirked, "to put up with your shit."

"Really, Sam?"

"I'm just saying." He gestured to Dean

"Well, Sammy, that door swings both ways," he smirked, "speaking as someone who has been stuck in the car with you."

Sam opened his mouth to reply when Y/N burst through the door, waving a large package of bacon in her hand, the garage's frozen air following her.

"Found it," she announced, "and it's fucking cold out there."

Peering out the sliding glass door Dean took in the expanse of snow-covered tundra, "Damn, I think it snowed a foot last night."

"Just in time for Christmas," she smiled.

She put the bacon on a cookie sheet and slid it into the oven. Dean made her a fresh coffee, and she set the timer as they made their way to the living room to gather around the tree. Dean announced that he was going to be "Santa Claus" and hand out all the presents. The three of them sat on the floor as he began to hand them out. Y/N's heart felt very full as she watched the two brothers' faces light up with sheer delight. The anticipation of having a real Christmas with all of the festivities, to include presents under the tree that didn't come from the corner gas station.

Sam was the first to open his gift from Y/N; wrapped in a Christmas paper of Santa and Rudolph taking selfies. Pulling the paper and red ribbon off, it revealed a laptop zipper sleeve printed with a multitude of pictures, flipping it over in his hand; there were pictures of him, Dean, Bobby, Cas, Jack, Mary, Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex, Patience, and Garth.

"This is amazing, where did you get all of these pictures?" he asked in awe.

Y/N grinned, "Jody helped me with the pictures, then I put them all together and printed on the laptop cover."

Pointing to the gift in Dean's lap she said, "open yours next." He pulled the green ribbon on the paper covered with muscle cars decorated with Christmas lights. He ripped the covering, and flipped open the box. Lifting the tissue paper he stared at the object inside.

"Babe," he choked, emotions clogging his throat.

"What did you get?" Sam questioned as he attempted to peer over the box lid

"Do you like it?" she whispered.

He leaned over, sweetly kissed her, and sat back, he pulled the picture frame out of the tissue paper, turning to show it to his brother. It was the picture of Dean and Mary, she was standing behind him, with her arm around him. The photograph had been restored and framed in a black frame. Instead of putting it back in the box to take back to the bunker, he stood up and walked to the long entertainment stand where Y/N had lots of pictures of her and Dean displayed; he moved some other frames around placing the one of he and Mary among them. Y/N blinked back tears because she knew that if he set the frame up here, he must consider being here his home. Walking back to his seat on the floor, he pointed to one of the presents in Y/N's lap.

"Babe, open the one from me next."

She picked up the small one wrapped in brown kraft paper with a smiley face with a Santa hat drawn on it. She started to pick the tape, careful not to rip the paper.

"Y/N, just rip it open," Dean groaned

Squinting her eyes with a sly smile, she said, "I'm trying to save the paper."

"Well, just hurry up," he grumbled as Sam laughed at his impatience.

She pulled out the small box and opened the lid to reveal a plain black leather necklace with a silver clasp. Dean watched her closely as she pulled the jewelry out of the box; she saw a delicate metallic charm. Cupping it in her palm, she stared at it, the tears that she had blinked away moments ago quietly ran down her cheeks. It was a gorgeous pendant with her and Dean's initials intertwined.

"This is so beautiful, did you make this?" she breathed.

"I did," he announced proudly.

She stood up, holding the necklace out to him, "can you put it on me?"

He took the necklace from her as she turned around, lifting her hair. He placed the jewelry around her neck and clasped it; Dean kissing the skin where the clasp had settled.

Turning around she wrapped her arms around him, “I love you,” she whispered against his lips.

Dean groaned as he crushed her against him, capturing her lips with his, instantly deepening the kiss as she clung to him.

As Sam cleared his throat, Dean pressed her closer with one hand as he held a finger out to his brother, telling him to wait a minute. As they broke apart a little breathless, Dean cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip, he looked into her eyes as she stared into his deepening green ones.

"I love you, Babe."

A crash came from the kitchen as they stepped away from each other.

"Oops...Sorry!" Sam called, "the timer went off, and I was getting the bacon and cinnamon rolls, while you two were," he waved towards them, "you know."

Y/N's face began to heat as she remembered that Sam was in the room, and she was so into the kiss she didn't even hear the timer. She quickly gathered the paper plates with poinsettias and started to serve the food. She handed Dean’s to him first, and he made his way back out into the living room. As she gave Sam his he held her hand so that she would look at him.

"Tink," he murmured, catching her eye. As she looked up at him, he smiled, "You are the best thing that has ever happened to my brother. You have shown him there is more to life than what he has ever had and you truly love him despite all of the shit in our lives, thank you."

The smile radiating from her face confirmed to Sam one of the many reasons his brother loved this girl so much.

"Come on!" Dean yelled from the other room, his mouth full of food. "Let's open the rest of these presents!"

Making their way back in, they began opening the rest. Sam got Y/N a new leather portfolio to display her photographs for presentations and when she opened it up, on the inside left corner was a little embroidered Tinkerbell with her magic wand. Two of the remaining presents were identical packages wrapped in Elvis wrapping paper for the brothers. Dean opened his gift to find a Led Zeppelin box set. Sam began to open his to find a Celine Dion box set.

"I don't understand," Sam shook his head brows knitted, "I don't even like-"

"-lies!" Dean cackled, Y/N's laughter joining his.

"Fine," Sam's lips quirked. "Can we please keep it between the three of us now since Dean doesn't know how to keep a secret."

Y/N put her hand up, still giggling. "I swear if anyone asks me, I will say your favorite singer is Elvis."

"You two suck," he grimaced. "I mean I love it, but you still suck, you have the weirdest sense of humor."

His announcement was met with thundering laughter.

The rest of the day was followed by watching Christmas movies and eating a ham dinner with all the delicious sides. Y/N packed everything in containers to go after that had eaten because she knew that they were leaving early the next morning. Sam went to bed first with the excuse that he knew they had a long day tomorrow.

Dean sat on the corner of the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist lost in the thoughts of their next steps to open the rift to get out Mary and Jack.

Y/N walked in, closing the door behind her. The towel was gripped to her chest as damp hair cascaded down her back. She regarded him as he was staring at the floor, elbows resting on his knees. His hair was almost dry from the shower as she watched the muscles roll in his back. Tilting his head up to look at her she could see the sadness he had hidden from her all day in his eyes. Moving over to him, he sat up and pulled her between his knees. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his head against her chest, taking comfort in her heart's steady beat. Drawing him closer, she ran her fingers through his hair in an effort to ease his burden.

Y/N broke the silence with a whisper, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Nuzzling into her, he shook his head slightly, "We have talked too much about it, tomorrow is when we put it all into action. I just want to enjoy tonight with you."

"Whatever you need, Dean."

He lifted his head, looking up at her, he had a way of seeing right into her soul with just a look that always took her breath away.

"I need you," he rasped.

She bent to brush her lips to his; Dean swiftly took the lead. Hooking his finger at the edge of her towel, it dropped to the floor as he deepened the kiss. Dean flipped his towel open scooting back further on the bed, pulling Y/N with him, she straddled his hips. He pulled back, his eyes meeting hers in a silent question. She nodded her head once before he drove up into her, their moans muffled by their open mouth kisses. Her forearms rested on his shoulders as her hands fisted in his hair. Dean's hands were gripping her hips, one palm covering her new tattoo, fingertips digging in as they moved together at a reckless pace.

It wasn't about making love or marathon sessions; this was about dampening the fire in both of them. They were both worried about what tomorrow was going to bring, and this was the way they would connect without words. Quiet, fast, and hot is what was required. Dean could feel the tightening in his spine and knew he was close, but he knew Y/N needed a little more, sliding his hand between them he used his thumb to brush against the bundle of nerves and with a gasp she threw her head back. His lips moved along her neck, marking her at the spot between her neck and collarbone.

She whined his name, letting him know she was close, he sucked a little harder on her throat as he used a bit more pressure with his thumb. She broke apart in his arms as he felt her flutter around him, he drove into her a few more times before he found his release. Still buried inside Y/N, he held her trembling body, his head resting against her shoulder as they caught their breath.

"I didn't realize how much I needed that," she huffed, shakily.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, "I guess I didn't either." He helped her stand up before they both moved to each side of the bed and crawled between the sheets. Y/N lay on her back with closed eyes as Dean lay next to her, his head propped on his elbow looking down at the woman he loved. The necklace he made her settled against her skin, slightly past her collarbones. With his finger, he lightly traced the intertwined initials. Y/N didn't open her eyes, but a soft smile played on her lips. She sighed his name in her blissful state. Leaning down, he gave her a sweet kiss.

"Thank you for everything today."

Cracking one eye open, she whispered, "This was the best Christmas I have ever had, we will be telling these stories forever."

"You're right," he agreed, as he laid his head on the pillow and pulled her against him as they fell into a peaceful sleep.

Dean crawled out of bed, careful not to wake Y/N. It was still dark out, and he and Sam had to get on the road. He got dressed without the benefit of a light. Walking over to Y/N, curled up under the covers, he stood and watched her for a moment, emotions swirling through him. He brushed her hair back from her face.

He bent and kissed her on the temple as he murmured, "I love you, Babe, always."

He made his way out to Baby, where Sam was waiting, throwing his bag in the back seat. He slid into the driver's side, placing his hands on the steering wheel, his mouth set in a firm line. Sam started to speak, but Dean shook his head.

"Sammy," he grumbled, "just give me until we get out of town, and then we can talk about whatever you want," he glanced at him and added, "within reason."

He cranked the ignition and slowly started to back out of the driveway. He stopped at the end and looked at the little bungalow. The Christmas lights that he had helped Y/N hang up after Thanksgiving twinkled in the dark, bouncing off the snow. He could see the sparkle of the tree through the front window. He pressed that picture in his memory; Dean didn't know when he would be back this time. This house and the memory of his girl looking at him pure love were the two things he would keep close to get him through until he could return. He pulled out onto the street and headed out of town to meet with Rowena and Gabriel. The only noise in the car was Baby's powerful engine growling through the early morning light.

Chapter 11

Tags: @winchest09 @katehuntington @whatareyousearchingfordean @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva1@superfanficnatural @deanwanddamons @janicho88 @talesmaniac89 @anathewierdo @compresshischest09 @supernatural-bellawinchester @jensengirl83 @this-is-what-im-reduced-to @ellewritesfix05 @moron225 @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @unicornqu33n17 @swinchester27 @deans-baby-momma @squirrelnotsam @clumsy-nerd104 @sarahbaker2010 @supernatural-love14 @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @angelhearts1012 @nothinbuttrouble2 @cookiechipdough @lady-pswrld @peachyafshawn @notan-applepielife @linki-locks11 @atc74 @divadinag @dvnmbabe @michellethetvaddict @stoneyggirl

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x y/n #reader insert #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #slow burn #dean winchester series #a man of letters #waywardbeanie

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holylulusworld · 5 years ago

Text

Only one daddy for me

Summary: Trying to get over the break-up with your fiancée you spend a week with a foreign man. No names. No rules. No seeing each other again. What happens when you stumble into him again?

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader, OFC’s

Warnings: angst, smut, unprotected sex, daddy!kink, hair pulling, sex on/over a desk, doggy style, blow job, dirty talk, comforting, fluff, shitty father, language, protective Dean, arguments

What daddy doesn’t know Masterlist

“That’s out of question, mom. I will not come to another ‘praise’ dinner for Jason to hear dad talking low about me. I love you; you know I do, but Jason and his lovely wife won’t make it easier for me.”

“Something wrong?” Dean pokes his head into your office, ready to drive you home to enjoy the well-deserved weekend.” Pointing toward the free chair in front of your desk you keep on talking to your mom.

“Mom, I would come, for you but I’m afraid I can’t bear more boring looks and another inquisition as I can’t do anything right according to dad. I didn’t give him grandchildren like Jason or managed to ruin thousands of people with shady deals.” Sighing you rub your temple and Dean moves behind you to gently massage your shoulders.

“Y/N tell her we will come around with pleasure. No problem at all. We just made the best deal of the century; nothing can shock me.” Dean is nibbling at your ear shell, loving the way you whimper silently.

“Okay, mom. Dean and I will come to dinner tomorrow, no problem. Do we need to bring anything? OH, Jason brings a salad…great…” Holding back a chuckle you shake your head, knowing about Erica’s awful food. “We better prepare our stomach’s in that case mom…Love you.” Hanging up the phone you groan, leaning into Dean’s touch.

“We are going to rock this party for sure, Baby Girl. I’ll bring an awesome wine, and my famous potato salad.” Dean pecks your neck softly, knowing you hate to be around your father since the last encounter.

“I hate he will ruin our weekend, Dean. I wanted a glass of wine, unhealthy food and dirty sex with you.” Turning your chair around Dean grins down at you. “Not here, Dean!”

“Hmm…I’m the boss, you know. Big bad CEO. I want you on your knees to keep your job, dirty girl. Daddy wants to see your pretty lips wrapped around his dick.” Dean husks and you whine low in your throat.

“Here…?” Glancing at the door you bite your lip. Everyone should be at home for hours, so you drop to your knees to unzip Dean’s dress pants. “Door?”

“Locked it when I entered your office, Baby. Now get to work. Daddy wants to take care of his pretty girl too. Never fucked you over your desk.” While Dean continues talking dirty to you, your hands drag his pants down.

Wetting your lips, you gently start stroking Dean’s cock, causing your boyfriend to hiss. He’s watching you swipe your thumb over his slit, licking his lips as you lick your fingers.

“God, you going to kill me, Sweetheart. Daddy loves you.” Smiling at Dean you kiss the tip before you lick him all over. Your tongue presses against the pulsing vein, teasing him to bring the angry dom out. “Don’t play games, princess.” Now you whimper, feeling Dean’s hand fist your hair.

Your lips part and you slowly wrap your soft pillows around the wide head, suckling at it for a while as you stroke his shaft. “Daddy wants to feel you all around him…now.” Dean’s eyes are fixated on your lips as his fingers slide through your hair.

Taking him down your throat, slow, deliberate you try to relax you. Tilting your head, you take a deep breath before you start bobbing your head, moaning as Dean plays with your hair.

“Good girl, going to make you feel so good.” Looking up at Dean you work his cock the way he likes it. Spit drips down your chin, mixed with Dean’s juices and you are close to making him spill his load down your throat as you feel his grip on you tighten and he drags you off his cock.

“Dean…” Panting you let him help you up, as he wipes the spit off your chin, smiling at you. “I wanted to make you cum.”

“I know, Baby Girl but all I can think about is to make you cum on this desk. Let me make you feel good.” Dean turns you around, kissing your neck softly while his hands move under your skirt to shove your panties down. “Daddy wants to feel your pretty pussy around him.”

He’s pressing his chest against your back, slipping one hand between your legs to toy with your clit. “You’re so wet for me, Baby. Does your boss make you ruin your panties? Huh? Is he hot…” Husking the words into your ear Dean moves his finger around your clit, causing you to shudder.

“Yes…boss…”

“I know, Y/N. Such a dirty girl I have.” Dean’s fingers press hard down your little nub as he uses his free hand to slip the tip in. “Feels so good…” Panting into your neck Dean slides into you with one hard thrust.

He sets a fast pace, rubbing the right place with his dick every time he enters your slick channel. His arms wrap around your body, holding you safe against his chest. “Love you, Baby. Just let go and forget about your shitty father.”

“Fuck…” Too worked up you can feel your walls pulsing around Dean. Your nails dig into his hands as you fall back against his warm body, just giving in to the pleasure…

----

“I swear you look breathtakingly, stunning - whatever, Y/N. If you do not stay in this dress and your heels I’ll drag you into your father’s house, bare and with a bite mark at your ass.” Dean threatens as you turn around to check your appearance in the mirror once again.

Wearing a simple black dress you bite your lower lip. It’s sleek and sophisticated. It has a square-neck, a knee-length hem and hugs your feminine silhouette perfectly.

“I like the hidden zip, Baby. It makes me feel like MacGyver when I try to get you out of it later…” Chuckling Dean places a beautiful necklace around your neck.

Kissing your sweet spot softly Dean tries to calm your nerves. “You’re beautiful, smart and not alone this time. Let’s rock this dinner and tomorrow we will spend the whole day as we want to.”

One last glance and you pick your purse up, along with your coat. “Let’s get this over with, Dean. I must warn you. My brother is very…uh…”

----

“An asshole as your father or worse?” Dean holds out his hand to help you get out of his favorite car. He chose the classic beauty as he didn’t want Benny to drive him to your father’s house. Tonight, is all about you, not him so he holds out his arm, letting you hold tight onto him.

“He’s very self-centered, just like his wife Erica. I never liked her, Dean. Since Jason is with her, his behavior got worse. Just tell me if it’s too much and we leave this awful family dinner.”

While Dean chuckles lightly he looks at the expensive bottle of wine in your hands and the huge bouquet of roses he bought for your mother. “Forget about him, Y/N. I told you that you are a shooting star and not as I like to do dirty things to you…or rather with you.”

Before you knock at your parent’s door you take a deep breath; Dean does the same, putting on his brightest ‘fake’ smile. “Okay, ready if you are.” Dean chuckles at your words, rapping his knuckles against the wooden door.

Your father opens the door, hating the fact Dean is right next to you. He had hoped your new lover, as he calls Dean, already drop you and he will be able to tell you he knew you were only fun to your powerful boyfriend.

“Mr. Y/L/N, thanks for your invitation. Where is your lovely wife? I bought her favorite flowers.” Dean is smiling, shaking your fathers’ hand, almost choking on his false politeness.

“She’s inside, taking care of the meal as a good wife should do.” Your father’s eyes land on you and he can see the uncertainty.

“A good wife, Sir? Hmm…I appreciate my girl smart, self-confident and without fear in her eyes.” Dean deadpans, walking past your father to enter the house.

Seeing your mother Dean doesn’t need to use his fake smile. He’s greeting her with a warm smile, handing her the roses.

“Whatever you cooked, ma’am it smells almost as if my mom made it. She was a great cook, just like you, Mrs. Y/L/N.” Dean barely talks about his deceased mom. All you know is she died when Dean turned ten in a car accident.

“You’re flattering me, young man.” Placing one hand onto her heart your mother giggles lightly and you can’t hold back the smile as her eyes water at the sight of the roses Dean hands her. “Thank you, Mr. Winchester.”

“Dean, Mrs. Y/L/N, just call me Dean. I’m with your daughter for almost a year so I’m slowly starting to plan a wedding.” Your boyfriend exclaims.

“I don’t think you will like her that long. Her fiancée got bored too. Y/N forced him to move to London and then she just forgot about him, treating him like he’s not even there.” Your father chuckles, trying to make you feel small once again.

“Seriously? I would follow your daughter everywhere she wants to go, even to the moon, Sir.” Smirking Dean walks to your side, slinging one arm around your waist. “She’s someone special, not a random girl. If you ask me, Scott was the one ruining his relationship with Y/N.” Dean pecks your cheek, smiling as you lean into his body.

“Well, he had no other choice.” Your father stammers, looking at his son and Erica entering the room.

“I beg your pardon, but you always got the choice to not be a cliché and bang your secretary, Sir.” Now Dean’s eyes narrow and he gives your father a warning glare. “Except you are an unfaithful bastard not caring about your partner's feelings. I can assure you, not all men are like that. Winchesters are, when they found the right woman, always faithful.”

“Let’s eat, the meal will be ready in five.”

----

Dinner is awkward as you feared. Dean is talking to your mother, ignoring your father or your nosy brother.

“The Singer deal, how much money did you make?” Jason asks once again, and Dean is close to losing his patience. Clearing his throat your boyfriend points at the food, shaking his head.

“We came here to enjoy your wonderful mothers’ delicious food and have a light conversation not to talk about a confidential deal. I will not tell you how many billions your sister made for Winchester Inc. or how everyone in business praises her abilities.” Dean is patting your thigh, giving you a peck on your cheek as your father snorts.

“My daughter good at business. You mean she’s a nice distraction during meetings or a business dinner.” Your father spats and Dean starts clenching his jaw, but he remains calm.

“No, I meant she made the deal with Singer Inc., Mr. Y/L/N. All ideas, the whole concept for the collaboration came from your talented and smart daughter. On top of all, she was able to get the CEO Mr. Bobby Singer to come to our meeting. Mr. Singer never attends a meeting, but he was impressed by your daughter and wanted to meet the woman saving his business.” Dean is balling his hands to fists, ready to attack your father if he says something wrong again.

“That’s…impressive. Don’t you think, darling? I know you always talked about how you want to meet the philanthropist and nomad Bobby Singer. To think Y/N met him.” Your mother smirks devilish and you need to hold back a chuckle.

“Maybe she…” Jason wants to say something, but the way Dean glares at him let his words die in his throat. “I guess that’s impressive.” Jason curses under his breath.

While you talk to your mother, Dean talks to your father. Your brother tried once or twice to get more information about the deal, but Dean is used to people trying to get information about deals, so he refuses to answer your brother’s questions, polite but stern.

When it’s finally time to leave you to walk faster than Dean. Only wanting to get away from your father and Jason.

“You did not exaggerate, Baby Girl. Your father is an ass, and the apple didn't fall far from the trunk in your brothers’ case. Let’s get you home and tug you into our warm bed. I’ll make you forget your shitty family.” Leading you toward his car Dean slings an arm around your shoulders, whispering loving words into your ear.

“Sorry, you had to bear this dinner, Dean. I like your family more. John, Sam and Jessica are nice people.”

“You are my family too, Y/N. I think I’ll keep you from now on. You look great in my car, my bed and…” Turning you to face him Dean brushes his lips over yours. “I love you, Y/N. From now on we will throw dinner parties and let your father play by our rules. You and me, Baby Girl…you and me…”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom, @thewinchesterco, @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl, @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana31, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @voltage-my2dlove, @fandom-princess-forevermore @thenamelesschibi, @lauravic, @fandomsrourlives, @wittysunflower, @drakelover78, @lemondropirwin, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes, @spnhollis, @void-imaginations, @jay-and-dean, @shatteredabby, @juniorhuntersam, @helpmeluci, @neii3n, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @alltimesamantha, @chonisberonica, @supernaturalonice @stuckys-whore, @shadowkat-83, @officialmarvelwhore, @wecantgiggleitsafandom, @meganywinchester, @shikshinkwon, @miraclesoflove, @yolobloggers, @lu-sullivan, @maniacproffesor, @hollymac79, @straycuties9, @kayla-2000, @ilovefanfic86, @gracefultrenchcoat494, @babygirls-fav, @sadn0va, @spnwoman, @amiquette, @linki-locks11, @geekofmanyforms, @eggingamazinglove, @jessica-marsh09, @spnficgirl, @shut-themoonscone, @thequeenreaders, @countrygal17a, @kteelou, @soryuwifeyxx, @kricketc28, @heartislubbingdubbing, @atomicfandombomb, @defenderrosetyler , @shortwinchester, @maybesomedaygayyyy, @tmiships4life, @deanmonandnegansbitch, @exo-nova, @the-chocolate-moose, @laxe-from-outer-space, @sabascio, @that-place-called-middle-earth, @the-broken-angel-13, @bunnybaby89, @pandabiiissh, @maddiedott, @mblaqgi, @differentstudentrunaway-e70bf763, @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @deans-baby-momma, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen, @janicho88, @thefaithfulwriter, @dreaminemz, @negans-lucille-tblr, @akshi8278, @hhiggs, @midnightsilver16830, @mrspeacem1nusone, @ria132love, @caligraphee, @the-witch-in-silence, @multisuperfandom, @deansgirl-1968, @justanotherwinchester, @jadesupernatural, @squirrelnotsam, @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo, @roonyxx, @jason-todd-squad, @thevelvetseries, @spnsuper17, @adoptdontshoppets, @woodworthti666, @frederikkeborup, @psychicforest, @luciathewinchestergirl, @michellemxndes

#spn #spn fanfiction #spn au fanfic #ceo!dean Winchester #ceo!dean #Smut #au dean winchester #au dean #au dean x reader #au dean x you #au dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #Sequel #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester SPN #dean x reader #dean x you

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twilightau · 4 years ago

Text

My Greatest Happiness

My dear daughter, you know you are my greatest happiness, right?

subtitle; just a lot of cuteness bundles together.

genre; fluff, maybe angst??

warning; you have the cutest daughter!

word count; 946

author note; it is my first blog… tell me how you like it~

“Appa, I want to hear Star Nine again!”, Dad!Wooyoung’s 3-years-old says, kicking the air excitedly in her high chair while Wooyoung feeds her some home-cooked meal. His smile warming at the sight of the glister in his daughter’s eyes.

She means Star 1117, the theme song of her favorite cartoon show Hehetmon And Friends.

What she didn’t know was that uncle Yeosang was the cartoonist behind all her favorite characters, and Wooyoung the voice behind Star 1117, as well as Youngmonie, the mon with a purple flower and Hehetmon’s best friend.

•

“Appa, why is it called 117? Shouldn’t they just count it together?”, she asked the first time she heard the title of the song.

“Hmm, it was probably too difficult for them, sweetheart. Would you do it for them?”, Wooyoung asked her sweetly, point fingers softly poking her chubby cheeks.

“Uhh, one and one and one, two, three, four, five, six, seven…”, she counts while struggling to stick keep her last finger down.

“Appa, how many fingers are these now?”, she asked after managing to keep her thumb down.

“Nine, sweetheart. Those are one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine cute fingers”, he answers her while booping every single fingertip she stuck up, gaining several heart-fluttering giggles from his little baby.

“We have solved it, Appa! It is Star Nine!”, she squeals, getting up from the couch they both laid on to run towards her mom and show her amazing discovery.

He smiled at his daughter’s antics, not having the heart to tell her that she missed an one.

•

“Of course, sweetheart. But promise Appa to chew while listening, yeah?”, he said while handing her the spoon, she eagerly put a spoonful of the food in her mouth, beaming at her father out of excitement.

Looking for star

Looking for love

I will watch over you

So no sadness will ever get to you

Forever you are my star

“Appa is so good!”

“Chew, sweetheart. Chew!”

- A few weeks later -

“Yes, I understand Mrs. Chae, my apologies”, Wooyoung says before ending the call, he turns around to look at his daughter, who seems to be very interested in the tips of her tiny shoes.

“Sweetheart…”, he starts, kneeling down to meet her eyes, just for her to look away, her lips starting to tremble lightly.

“Appa, I didn’t mean to hurt him”, her voice softly comes out, the shaking obvious, a sign she is being sincere.

“I know, sweetheart. You would never just hurt someone right?”, he speaks to her in an equally soft voice, trying to meet her eyes again with his gentle ones. She nods slightly.

“But why did you get upset with them in the first place, sweetheart?”, he continues, taking her little hands into his and rubbing them with his thumbs, trying to prevent her from crying. But it seems his question did the job already because she bursts into tears.

“He...he said Youngmonie is his least favorite! And that he doesn’t like Star Nine!”, she confesses, as if it is the end of the world as she starts shaking, her tears streaming down her chubby cheeks in a steady pace, every drop leaving her chin making Wooyoung’s heart drop a little, too.

“But sweetheart, he can have his own opinion, right?”, he tries, although he really doesn’t understand why it is upsetting his daughter so much, after all, even she knew it was just a cartoon.

“No, because Youngmonie and Star Nine are made by you!”, she says, voice loud and clear, taking him by surprise.

How did she know?

“I don’t want Jisung to talk like that about what my Appa did. Appa did amazing and deserves love for what he made!”, she continues, her eyes filled with passion and anger, but Wooyoung is staring back with nothing but pure love. The skies really blessed him with the two most precious souls in the world.

•

“Babe, you have been typing like a madman for the past 20 minutes without even giving me attention!”, Wooyoung complains as he flops on the couch, head resting on his lover’s thigh.

“10 more minutes, I need to get this done”, she answers back, eyes not leaving the screen.

“Why? Are you trying to work last minute again? Babe… I told you that habit isn’t right”, Wooyoung tries, hands trying to hold onto her laptop.

“I’m doing something more important! These people think they are national judges or whatever! Gosh, they said your hair doesn’t suit you! Have they seen your face? Everything looks gorgeous!”, she starts rambling, an adorable habit Wooyoung enjoys, just listening to it makes him realize how little everything matters, as long as she is here, with him.

•

That same feeling is rushing through his body right now, as he watches his daughter ramble about how great his work is and how much talent he has. He stops her by bringing her two hands to his lips and giving it a light kiss.

“Sweetheart, I don’t care about Jisung. All I want to know is how you never told me you knew Youngmonie and Star Nine are done by Appa?”, he says, her eyes suddenly twinkle.

“Of course I know! I can recognize Appa’s voice everywhere! Even with a hundred voices talking through! Because I love Appa that much!”, she says, making a grand movement to show how much she loves him.

His smile widens so much that it might as well be stuck on his face like that. He scoops his daughter into his arms and blows raspberries onto her little cheek, making her giggle from the tickling feeling.

“Appa!”, she squeals and his laughter joins hers, making a perfect harmony of chaotic happiness.

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dopescotlandwarrior · 5 years ago

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Someone like you-Chapter 34

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Chapter 34

The chilly air was invigorating as we made our way to the bridal shop. I prayed that Jenny would not want further details about sex between Jamie and me because he was her brother and that was just weird.

The owner asked us to sit and chat for a few minutes while her assistants were pulling the dresses she wanted to show us. She asked me tons of questions about Jamie, what we both did for a living, and for fun. I didn’t think the questions were intended for anything because they seemed so random. When the assistants came in with dresses she sent half of them back pulled three to the dressing room and the rest on racks nearby.

“Alright," she looked at me smiling. "You can look all you want but I believe the three I’ve chosen will be your favorites. Call when you need assistance.”

“Out of the thousand or so dresses in this place how could she know yer three favorites?”

I shrugged my shoulders at Jenny’s whispered question. I believed it was a sales technique of some sort. My taste was off the beaten path, always had been, no way she could target my style. I looked at the vast number of dresses that hung near the huge dressing room and thought I better get started.

I looked at the three bridal gowns and my first thought was the absurdity that I would choose one of these and actually marry the man who stole my heart when I was ten years old. I felt tears pricking my eyes and resisted the urge to pinch myself. The gowns were stunning and I was very careful touching them. I pulled my clothes off and tried to find a zipper or buttons to put the first one on. After five minutes I was getting cold so I called Jenny to come in.

“Christ Claire, put my jacket on before ye freeze to death. I think I got it, no that’s not it. Edith, we need ye help with this.”

It was the owner who came in, still smiling, and offered to help. “Arms up lass.”

The fabric of the dress slid down my body and legs feeling like a cool slippery second skin. I have a theory about the perfect dress and it has proven right every time. When the dress feels like it was made for you, sums up your personality and goals you have for the event you buy it. This was the dress I would be married in, I knew it as it slipped onto my body, and I was delighted with it.

“Lass, I dinna ken what to say. It’s breathtakin, you’re beautiful in it, Jamie will have a heart attack when he sees ye in it.”

Heavy lace sleeves from my wrist to five inches below my shoulder attached to the heart-shaped bodice that was close fitted and decorated with thousands of hand-sewn pearls. The skirt was two layers with a modest flair. The owner went to get a stiff slip and the fabric fell onto it like a whisper. Jenny had a strange look on her face and pulled my arm so I would turn around to look in the mirror. I have never felt so elegant or had such a beautiful dress in my life. The tears would not be held back and I looked at the owner like she was magic.

“How could you possibly know?”

“It’s my job to see the person inside, and I’ve been dressing brides for thirty years.”

The owner explained the heavy lace sleeves would add some warmth for my winter wedding. I turned around to see the sharp dip to my waist, exposing my back. Keep me warm indeed, I thought. Next, we lost ourselves in gorgeous silk stockings, garter belts, tiny panties, and stunning shoes. I chose the highest heel she had because I wanted to look in Jamie’s eyes whenever I turned in his direction.

I watched Edith and Jenny with a keen eye and noticed what they drooled over. I let the owner know I would pick up those items tomorrow as Christmas presents and to please set them aside for me. I could not help seeing Edith’s eyes land on a beautiful beaded clutch. She did not touch it but her gaze landed on it several times. I indicated to the shop owner I would take that as well.

After three hours we piled out of the shop completely exhausted. Jenny went her separate way to do Christmas shopping and I drove Edith home. The sky was hosting large swollen black clouds and I saw the lights on Edith’s house from a block away. It made me happy inside that I had a friend like Edith who taught me how to cook, got me to therapy, loved my dog and my husband to be, and embraced my whole family. I helped her inside and hugged her.

“I love you, Edith, thank you for spending such an amazing day with me.”

“We will see you on Christmas dear and I will bring some things.”

I laughed at that. Some things meant an entire meal that would be remembered throughout the year. I turned my pockets inside out to show the Butter-lovers he was not sequestered against his will and they lost all interest in me walking to his bed with their tiny hearts broken.

“Maybe it’s time to have Butter for a play day,” she said looking at her depressed pugs.

A last hug and I was homeward bound with a deep sigh of relief. I was getting married on Hogmanay and it would be a day to remember. I needed my groom in a big way.

When I turned onto the road to Lallybroch I saw a man and a dog in a far-field. The dog was running to him after retrieving a stick when he suddenly dropped it in the snow and looked at the man. It was Butter, my favorite dog who never found the value in an old stick. I looked beyond the confused K-9 and saw Jamie waving his arms at me. I parked and walked across the field, first to be assaulted by Butter, and then Jamie. His blue eyes sparkled against the snow-covered field and his smile was brilliant.

We walked home to a warm fire and a few hours to binge Netflix before dinner. Since we were alone in the house we stretched out on the couch and spent a relaxing minute and a half and then gave in to the naughty arousal of making love in the living room where we could be caught by Jenny or Ian returning home. I decided risky sex was delicious and put a star next to it on my types of sex mental list. No sooner did we dress than I heard the kitchen door slam and Jenny’s voice say something about dinner. I smiled at Jamie and he acknowledged the close call as he pulled me on his lap and tickled me.

“Oh Christ, ye two are making me sick. I am goin to lay down before dinner, I’m sure ye can get by an hour without me.”

Jamie sat at the kitchen table working on the renovation drawings while I got a pork roast ready for the oven. I made rice pilaf and a broccoli casserole and looked over Jamie’s shoulder asking questions. I was so excited about this renovation. We would have the entire upstairs, including the huge bathroom and tub, a room for the nursery that could later be divided for a second child and Jenny’s old room to create whatever we wanted. It was a glorious amount of space and freedom to raise our family. Jenny and Ian would enjoy the same luxury a level below us.

“Why didn’t we think of this before! I am so happy and excited and you are brilliant, can’t wait and I love you and…”

I had dropped into Jamie’s lap halfway through my happiness tirade and he seized the only way I had to communicate my joy. He moaned against my mouth and pulled me closer to him.

“I decided on a pork roast because I learned in nursing school that pork has special … rejuvenation …um …enzymes that target…” I inclined my head toward Jamie’s crotch. His eyes got wide and he looked down at his lap and then smiled like the devil himself.

“Sassenach, you are such a delight and yer learning such important things. I am a lucky man.” His smile was so big he could hardly kiss me.

Crap. It was supposed to be a joke but he didn’t laugh. Hm, I vowed to tell him someday so it wasn’t really lying and now I had pork in my bag of seduction tricks. Sorry, Jamie but you are just too adorable right now and I sense another hour of percolation and you will cripple me tonight. Oh, Christ, we may cripple each other. I turned the oven temperature up fifty degrees.

Dinner was perfect thanks to Edith’s secrets. I thought about tuition for the private Culinary Institute and how many students learned from her each semester. It was a staggering amount of money because they recruited the best chefs to teach. That made me giggle because I have her all to myself every Saturday. Jamie leaned into my ear as I popped a piece of pork in my mouth. I blushed at his whispered suggestion and smiled despite myself.

Jenny pointed her fork at me, then Jamie, “I’m gonna kill one of ya in yer sleep and I love ya both the same so it’ll be a coin toss. I canna get any peace wonderin what’s goin on in there so it’s been nice knowin one of ye.”

“Jenny, my back is sore from all the standing today. Do you mind if I use your tub tonight?”

“Yer a terrible liar and ye know yer welcome to all that I have if ye do my share of dishes tonight. I don’t feel that great.”

Jamie was doing his magic table-clearing act where all the dishes suddenly vanish from the table and appear in the sink, stacked for quick washing. Ian jumped to aid Jenny so it was just me and the adorable one. He kissed my neck as I powered through the washing.

“Sassenach, I must advise ye of the danger yer in. It feels like fifty horses are draggin me to bent ye over right where ye stand. Have mercy and show ye love by gettin in the tub if ye must. I’ll no wait much longer.”

He pulled my hand to his crotch and I squeaked quite involuntarily. So, the Blue Whale is not extinct after all and I must upgrade the potential danger to crippled for life. I decided I didn’t need the use of my legs anyway. I tried to kiss him and struggled for his mouth as he spun me and gently pushed me out of the kitchen.

“If yer not in bed naked when I get upstairs I’ll have ye where I find ye mo chridhe. I ate entirely too much pork I think.”

I was stuck looking at him being so sexy and saw his eyes get dark saying time is up, here I come. I vanished from the kitchen and my hands shook as I dropped into the hot water. I lit the fire after stacking three logs that erupted in flame casting a romantic glow in the room. I never tired of how the fire threw dancing light on Jamie’s skin as he moved causing a thrill when parts of his body were revealed. I pulled the bedding down so it would not hinder our movement.

Jamie gave me a total girl gift when the weather got cold. A floor-length transparent robe made from exquisite soft fabric, huge sleeves, and yards of material that was belted. When I touched the fur that ran around the collar and down the front I recoiled believing it was real until Jamie showed me the tag that said simulated mink. It was my guilty pleasure and his ignition switch.

Jamie came in and looked at me like a starving man. Without a word, he disappeared to the shower and cut his impressive time by a full minute. He wrapped his naked body around me and my fingers raked through his wet hair.

“Would you like a glass of whisky love?”

“Nah, I want yer forgiveness. This will no end soon, mo gradhag, and I’ll be lucky to get a full minute of tenderness in before I take what I want from ye. Give me yer mouth Sassenach.”

My two orgasms were award winners but I stayed quiet by holding my hand tightly against my mouth. I’m not sure it worked because on the orgasm planet I visit I have no ears. Just vibrating nerve endings that sing a song of pulsing delight. When I leave and come back to earth my ears are always attached to my head again so I can hear Jamie growl and pant as he rides his wave of euphoria.

This amazing day had ripped the energy and strength from me. I was descending into the void so fast I grabbed Jamie’s arm as if to stop myself. His hand was splayed on my still flat stomach and he was asking me why there was no bump. I looked from his hand to his eyes and felt my heart explode. I told him quickly how much I loved him and tried a second time to form the actual words that still didn’t sound right. Jamie laughed and pulled me to him as he reached for the light.

I ascended into consciousness slowly seeing the light of day behind my closed eyelids. This was one of my favorite times of the day as I became aware of the world again. I yawned deeply and twisted to the other side running right into Jamie. My eyes flew open at this unexpected obstacle in my morning bed. He moved slightly but otherwise continued to sleep. I wanted to jump up and down and clap my hands at this rare surprise to enjoy a Sunday morning lounging with my favorite person. I snuggled into him and went back to whatever plane I woke from.

Sometime later, I took a deep breath and let his scent fill my nose and lungs, feeling it energize me. He kissed my face over and over again until I was fully conscious.

“Ye have the prettiest eyes God ever gave a lass. Tell me what great things ye did in heaven to win them mo chridhe.”

I pushed myself up knowing my hair was acting out a riot and smiled at him. “Jamie?”

“lass?”

“You need to tell me something important, to get it off your chest, so to speak.”

Jamie said nothing but stared at my eyes and shook his side to side.

I brought my face within an inch of his and looked in his eyes. “You have the eyes of someone who adop0ted a kitten on impulse, so tell me where it is so Butter doesn’t eat it accidentally.”

Jamie was blushing crimson and laughing. He finally stood up and went into the hall then pushed a large box into our room. I realized it was a sixty-inch smart tv and called out every ounce of inner strength not to jump on the bed and demand he set it up and turn it on. We were a bit frugal, all of us sharing a single television that his parents owned.

“I was gonna give it to ye for Christmas but that would be a mistake, I think.”

“I don’t know about that, I can get your present ready …I just have to catch it and hold it still while I wrap it.”

“Yer givin me one of yer chickens for Christmas Sassenach?”

“No fair guessing, you have to wait and be surprised.”

“Lucky for the chicken, I dinna give ye the tv for Christmas.” He looked at me and the energy changed abruptly as stared back at him.

“I got ye, us, a honeymoon to remember, love.” He pulled an envelope from the top of the TV box and handed it to me.”

I turned it upside down and let the contents land on the bed as my eyes saw brochure pictures that made my heart pound. “We’re going to the Bahamas!”

I jumped on Jamie screaming with delight. He didn’t grab me fast enough so I escaped to jump on the bed, butt naked, still screaming with delight. “Tell me more!”

When he was silent I looked down at him watching my breasts bounce with my efforts. I dropped to the bed and pulled him on top of me. I felt him hard and large through his sweat pants and pushed them down over his magnificent butt. I was naked and squirming under him as I kissed him hard.

“It’s gentleman’s choice until noon and I am a slave to your pleasure Jamie.” I opened my mouth suggestively. Jamie whispered his instructions for an erotic experience that charged my batteries and made them explode. He told me where to put my tongue, how to slide it around his sensitive head, how to lay my tongue flat against him and let him pump my mouth. He stopped to say something and I saw his eyes lose focus. I shoved him in my mouth, to my throat and heard him groan loudly for what seemed like a full minute. While I was still swallowing I heard skin slapped.

“Fuckin Jamie!” Ian sounded like he would barge in our room and choke him to death.

As we struggled to stop laughing I remembered Jenny`s wicked sense of fair play, payback, and revenge. She was a master at tit-for-tat. I wondered what she will expose me to when I`m nine months pregnant. I scowled at Jamie and suggested he stop laughing.

#outlander fanfiction outlander fanfic jamie and claire

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maksylmyheart · 5 years ago

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t's a balmy evening in June, the air rich with the smell of fresh flowers, the breeze rustling the trees and wafting the distant lilt of music on strings. The magical is meeting with the practical here: the idyllic beauty of a Provencal wedding reconciled with the aching realities of spending an afternoon walking gardens and gravel paths in a pair of heels. Instead of slipping away to gaze lovingly into one another's eyes, the bride and groom excuse themselves for a quick wardrobe change so that she can be more comfortable at the reception—not a fairytale romance, but the real world kind.

But just as it seems that the evening might be coming back down to earth, wonder reasserts itself. As they make their way back to their guests, the blue kiss of twilight turns buttery yellow under strings of lights woven between a lane of stretching plane trees, their friends and family seated for a feast beneath the glow of the lights.

"We just kept taking deep breaths and trying to take it in because I think that was one of the most impactful moments," says the bride, Meryl Davis. "We'd been dating for a long time and we've loved one another for a long time, and yet the experience of sharing that moment with each other was so beautiful. It's probably my favorite memory ever up to this point."

And that's some stiff competition: after all, for an Olympic medalist and Dancing With the Stars champion, there are plenty of spectacular memories to choose from.

How Meryl and Fedor Got Together

Hailing from the suburbs of Detroit, an international hub for professional and competitive skating, Meryl Davis spent much of her young life training to achieve the heights of Olympics greatness that she reached with partner Charlie White at the 2014 winter Olympics, when the duo took gold in ice dancing.

"I didn't have to move away from my family or across the country or to a different country in order to pursue skating, which is pretty rare," she explains.

Meanwhile her now-husband Fedor Andreev, himself a professional skater, was in some ways the opposite—born in Russia, he moved to Canada as a child with his mother, Marina Zoueva, who would later go on to be Meryl's longtime coach. From there, he lived in a number of cities, including several years living and training in Detroit.

"We certainly got to know each other within the context of sport and within the figure skating community," said Meryl. "Fedor was five years older than me, and when you're young, that that feels like a big difference. So we are friends who've sort of blossomed over time."

With such busy lives, the couple didn't begin to date until 2010, around the same time Fedor was preparing to retire from competitive skating. Not that retirement slowed their pace down much; in the years since they got together, Fedor graduated from the University of Michigan's Ross School of Business (Meryl is getting her anthropology there as well), Meryl earned first a silver and later a gold medal at the Olympics before retiring from the competition, and both have continued managing active careers on and off the ice.

Starting Their Adventure Together

"Adventure and travel has always been a part of our lives," explains Meryl. "I've always traveled to with figure skating for competition and I think I just gained an early appreciation of how much a sense of place can impact your experience. And then with Fedor being from Russia and moving to Canada, New York, Hong Kong, Detroit, he's a worldly person, so that's really been a part of our lives as a couple; traveling and experiencing different places."

They brought that love of travel home with them, too. "When we were renovating our home in Detroit, I wanted to incorporate sort of a French countryside element. I stumbled upon this Instagram account where this woman was sharing the renovation of an 18th century farmhouse in Provence."

The property in question was Le Mas des Poiriers, a 65-acre farm outside of Avignon with a seven bedroom farmhouse and cottage owned by Connecticut couple Shauna Varvel and her husband, who spent three years renovating the property after purchasing it in 2015.

"I was just completely fascinated by her eye for design and authenticity of the renovation, making sure to maintain the integrity of the home and the property," says Meryl.

When Meryl and Fedor got engaged in the summer of 2017, the property felt like a natural fit for their ceremony.

"Fedor and I visited the property and we both just were completely in awe of this magical place," says Meryl. "There's something about that part of the world that inspires you to embrace a slower pace; just sitting down and enjoying a meal and a glass of wine with your family and friends. That's really what we envisioned for our wedding, just really trying to be present and be in the moment."

Planning a Wedding Overseas

Despite their love of travel and the dreamy locale, a wedding in Provence did require some careful consideration, though.

"We spent a lot of time going back and forth trying to decide whether or not a destination wedding made sense because obviously it's an investment for not just us and our families, but for our guests as well," says Meryl. "Ultimately we felt, especially after talking to a lot of our friends and family who were like, 'oh, we'd love to come,' that adventure is just such a part of our lives and we were excited to utilize this opportunity to do that, not just together, but with our friends and family."

However, the couple were mindful of the fact that the style of their wedding meant foregoing some of the now-standard wedding extras. "Once we made that decision that it was going to be the destination, we wanted to keep everything else as simple as possible," Meryl explains. "I didn't want to ask people to do anything or plan any other trips, so I decided not to do a bachelorette party or a bridal shower. We just wanted everyone to have a good time and enjoy it and not feel obligated to do anything other than show up and have a great time."

As for the technical aspects of the planning, the couple relied on event planners Matthew Robbins and Luis Otoya of Matthew Robbins Design for all of the details.

"Matthew is the preferred event planner of the homeowner, so she introduced us to him and Luis. They were the first wedding planners we really spoke to and we were sold right away," says Meryl. "It feels like planning a destination wedding in Europe for just under a hundred people should be really stressful and complicated, but our planners made it such a pleasure and so easy."

Breaking With Tradition

For two people who have spent much of their young lives globetrotting and competing on the world stage, it's hardly a surprise that Meryl and Fedor aren't exactly your typical couple, nor could theirs be your typical wedding.

"We really want the weekend to be a reflection of us and who we are as opposed to just sticking to tradition for the sake of sticking to tradition," explains Meryl. "We stayed together throughout the week in France instead of having separate rooms or not seeing each other the day of the wedding. We wanted to enjoy the day of the wedding together and, and enjoy what an exciting time it was in our lives."

The couple chose to read personal letters to one another in place of classic wedding vows. Meryl's uncle, Cam Davis, served as the officiant for the ceremony.

Instead of a large bridal party, they chose to get their families involved in other ways. Meryl's uncle, Cam Davis, served as the officiant for the ceremony, and her brother Clayton was the man of honor. Fedor's cousin, Danielle Vincent, owner of beauty brand Kimiko, served double-duty as both his best lady and as Meryl's makeup artist.

"It was nice to have that personal touch, to have family doing my makeup," Meryl says. She adds, "I actually had the hairstylist that I worked with during Dancing With the Stars in 2014 come with us and she did my hair throughout the weekend, so that was really fun as well."

Both of Meryl's parents walked her down the aisle to her favorite song, "The Swan" by Camille Saint-Saëns.

"For me it was all really pragmatic, tactical things that I cared about," says Fedor. "That probably tells you something about our personalities too, but I wanted to not draw the ceremony out too long because the summer gets pretty hot and people are wearing suits. So we wanted to keep it as intimate as possible—maybe 10 to 12 minutes total."

At the reception, the couple opted for a parent dance instead of the typical father-daughter dance. "My dad and I danced while Fedor and his mom were also dancing." Meryl laughs, adding, "That was more because my dad doesn't like being the center of attention."

The Proposal

Of course, their wedding wasn't the start of their less-than-traditional streak. "I think Meryl would not have loved a super traditional proposal," says Fedor, "So it was a bit of a challenge kind of planning it."

In July 2017, as the couple were planning a trip to Napa with Meryl's parents in conjunction with a business engagement in San Francisco, Fedor decided to use their shared love of the outdoors and hiking to create a unique memory.

"I decided that it was a good idea to pop the question on a hike that we had never done before," he laughs. "I had no clue how challenging it would be. Because I had never been on the trail, I didn't know where the perfect place to do it would be, so several times I started taking the ring box out of my backpack and then was like, 'Whoa, no, abort, abort.' It ended up working out on the back of the loop, right as we were going over a crest overlooking the ocean, I was like, 'Well, it's now or never cause there's only a quarter of a mile left.'"

"I always like taking pictures of the ocean and then when I turned around and put my phone down, Fedor was on one knee," Meryl explains. "That was a really beautiful emotional moment, just the two of us in the woods overlooking the ocean."

The Ring

"The year prior [to our engagement] we had been on vacation in Santorini and Fedor was admiring some watches in a jewelry store," says Meryl. "I stumbled upon a ring I just loved, and apparently Fedor took note. When we got home from our vacation, he began designing and seeking out the perfect yellow diamonds."

Fedor jokes, "Apparently I was the only person to ever come to jeweler with a full PowerPoint presentation on what I wanted. I did a lot of research and I just wanted to make sure that it really captured everything that was important to Meryl."

Their Something Blue

While her engagement ring features yellow diamonds, the colors for the wedding went a different direction, inspired by Meryl's family.

The five-tiered wedding blue and white cake by Catherine Pierard from Provence-based Made In Cake.

"When I began telling [our wedding planners] Matthew and the Luis what I envisioned, it was sort of an elevated backyard dinner in the summer, with flowers that felt like they could be taken out of the garden," says Meryl. "Just very warm and welcoming. And for me, when I think of like warm and welcoming, I think of sitting down to family dinner around a table of blue and white Chinoiserie. That has sort of been our family tradition; my grandmother has collected those pieces for as long as I can remember."

Meryl's grandmother's collection served as the inspiration for the five-tiered wedding blue and white cake by Catherine Pierard from Provence-based Made In Cake, as well as the table settings in vintage china from Le Bazar de rêve by Veronique for the Brunet Frères Traiteur meal, with table linens from Linen Way and Juliska napkins.

The food for the reception was catered by Brunet Frères Traiteur.

For the flowers, they kept to the blue theme with an equally familial inspiration.

"My parents still live in the same house in Michigan that I was born in, and Michigan summers are truly spectacular," says Meryl. "We always had these gigantic blue booming hydrangeas that just for me are the epitome of, you know, running barefoot through the grass and just being in the garden in the summer. It just felt like home, and it was also elegant."

The Dress

In keeping with her style, Meryl and her stylist Cynthia Cook Smith chose a Monique Lhuillier dress in a subtle neutral instead of the classic white.

"It was an interesting experience picking the wedding dress, just because ice dance tends to be very theatrical and ornate and, and costume design has been a really enjoyable part of our sport for me; I've always designed costumes with my mom."

Meryl's mother Cheryl Davis helped her get ready.

"Coming in, I thought, 'Do I really want something that looks like a skating dress or to purposefully gravitate away from what I would wear on the ice and make it very simple?' Ultimately, I just decided, I know what I feel comfortable in. We went shopping at a lot of really wonderful boutiques in Los Angeles, and actually the dress that I ended up picking was the very first wedding dress I ever tried on. It just felt like exactly what I had envisioned for the wedding. It was whimsical and it felt as though it would fit into the backyard garden setting."

Meryl and Fedor, right before he saw her in her dress for the first time.

Oliver Fly Photography

"The one thing that was actually traditional [about the wedding]," Fedor adds, "was that I didn't get to see the dress or Meryl wearing the dress prior to the wedding day. It was absolutely breathtaking getting to see Meryl walking out of the house. It was just extremely, extremely elegant."

The Reception

"One of the things that we were most struck by was just how surreal it was to have so many of the people that we love most from different parts of our lives together in one setting," says Meryl.

Along with their families, the happy couple were joined for the celebration by friends from school as well as colleagues from the skating world including Brian Boitano, Kristi Yamaguchi, Madison Chock, Evan Bates, and Meryl's partner on the ice, Charlie White and his wife, Tanith Belbin White.

"We were really emotional and overwhelmed by just what a once in a lifetime experience that was;, that collection of people who meant so much to us," says Meryl.

To maximize their time with their guests, the couple chose to extend the festivities with a pool party at the venue on the day after the wedding as well as an extended wedding week with their nearest and dearest.

Meryl changed into comfortable dancing shoes for the reception.

"It was a really nice way to connect with everybody in a very informal way," says Meryl. "Weddings go by so quickly, especially when it's just the wedding itself. We stayed in the house for a little under a week. Getting to experience the wedding weekend and then continue this celebration and spend time with our closest family was really special. We didn't want it to fly by, we really wanted to try to purposefully be present and take in as much as we could."

Photographs by Oliver Fly Photography; Event Planning by Matthew Robbins Design; Venue: Le Mas des Poiriers; Cake by Made In Cake; Catering by Brunet Frères Traiteur; Styling by Cynthia Cook Smith; Makeup by Danielle Vincent

Lauren Hubbard

Writer Lauren Hubbard is a freelance writer and Town & Country contributor who covers beauty, shopping, entertainment, travel, home decor, wine, and cocktails.

#Meryl Davis #Fedor Andreev #Meryl and Fedor's wedding

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years ago

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Survey #248

“i was unprepared for fame, then everybody knew my name.”

Are you more positive or a debbie downer? I don't think I'm either, honestly. I'm realistic. How many meals do you eat a day? Since getting a calorie & macro counting app, I try to aim for three, but sometimes I only manage two. I have to be conscious of how I'm spacing out what I eat. If you could have any talent in the world what would it be? Be realistic. Draw exactly what I see in my head. Do you brush your tongue with your tooth brush? Bitch you better brush your goddamn tongue. I didn't know until I saw this as a survey question a while back that there were people who didn't. How many times do you brush your teeth a day honestly? Once. What are you favorite type of jeans? I don't wear jeans anymore, but aesthetically, dark, skinny, torn jeans. Do you pop your bones, crack your knuckles? NO it disgusts me omg. There's this girl who sits in front of me in Women Writers class who cracks her back ALL the time and I have to fight cringing so, so hard. Do you eat your nails? YO NO. I may peel my nails when they get long (to me, anyway) but who the fuck eats their nails. Do you eat the ice in your drink? If it's that good cronchy type, fuck yeah. What do you order at Chic-Fil-A? I used to just get the classic sandwich and fries, but I stopped going there forever ago due to their connection to anti-LGBTQ organizations. By now I can't even stomach the thought of eating something from there. Damn are their sandwiches good, but I'm not giving them business. If you had to go to Mcdonalds what do you order? "Had to" lmao. I have no problem with McDonald's, honestly; you couldn't make me go, because I'd be quite willing. I love their cheeseburgers and, of course, their fries. But because I'm a fatass I have to at least get a double cheeseburger. Have you ever been addicted to cigarettes? No. Which do you use more? Facebook or Instagram? Facebook. Are you a student? If so, what classes will you take next? Yes. "Next," I don't know, considering I haven't chosen classes for next year. Currently I take Painting, Women Writers, Psychology, and Biology. Are you a good kisser? I don't know? How many real bf/gf have you had? Two. Did you enjoy your past relationships? Sure, save for the one with Tyler. That was pointless as shit. Would you ever get back with your ex? Sara, if certain conditions were right. Jason, I honestly don't know and hope I'm never put into the position to need to decide. Other exes, no. Do you like 80’s music? Rock and metal, absolutely. It was a great decade for the genres. Name a comedy that you like. Rush Hour 2 popped to mind first because we mentioned it in school yesterday. Do you like homework? ??????????? WHAT IS THIS QUESTION???????????????? NO??????????????? Something you want to buy real bad? Ugggghhhhh a lot. Being unemployed is a BLAST!!!!!!!!!! Something you would buy a friend as a gift? It depends on the person, of course. I try really hard to give very personal gifts, so what it would be would greatly vary. What is something that would be a good birthday gift for you? Donate Big Bucks to my tattoo fund and I'll give you smooches. Something you would gift yourself? Still tattoos lmfao. Favorite candle scent? Cinnamon rolls mmmmmmmmm. Do you watch beauty videos on YouTube? So here's the tea I genuinely love Jeffree Star and I'm digging NikkieTutorials lately LOOK idk I guess because I find makeup to be an art, I like watching that stuff. My YouTube interests have become seriously diverse lately. Have you ever questioned your sexuality? Ha ha obviously. What is the best thing about life? Man, that's a loaded question. I suppose having people in it that make it worthwhile and a true privilege to simply be here. What do you think will happen when you die? YO, HONESTLY, I don't know, man. I've even questioned reincarnation lately. I 100% believe we are not hollow bodies meant to just decay after death, but creatures with spirits that live on in SOME form or way afterwards. I don't believe in the concept of a "Hell," but I don't really think I accept there being a true "Heaven," either? I think there's just... something. What, I don't know, but guess I'll figure it out at some point. Are you superstitious? No. What kind of surveys do you like the most? Random ones, especially the ones that make you think. Do you go to church? No. Do you like Christian music? No. I get frustrated from just bad memories/associations. Have you ever skateboarded and failed at it? Never really tried. What show/concert have you went to that you didn’t like much? N/A Is sex a must in your life? Nah. Could you wait until marriage for sex? Lol I was the abstinent one years ago, so obviously I could, because I understand it. What do you think about weed? Medically, it's fantastic. Too much evidence of it being so to argue it anymore. For other use, I feel the same way about it as I do cigarettes: bad idea, but whatever. I personally don't care if it's made legal for recreational use or not, so long as it's treated similarly to alcohol, ex. illegal to drive while high. If you found a baby turtle on the side of the road, would you pick it up and keep it? With it being a baby, I'd probably take it to an animal rescue or something. Did you and your mum ever have a big fight that caused you to move out? I stayed at Dad's for a handful of days. Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? Yes. Does anybody have a tattoo with your name on it? My sister has my initial, anyway. Who did you last see shirtless? My mom. Do you like to make the first move? NONONONONO I'M SHY. Do you think you will ever be married? Probably. If the last person you kissed saw you kissing someone else, would they be mad? I don't think she'd be mad, no. Do you understand football? Nope. Who last called you beautiful? Probably Mom. If you fell pregnant to the last person you kissed, what would you think? We're both female so like- Do you think the body is the most beautiful thing that was ever made? No. Name five things you did today? Stayed at the hospital for my beautiful niece to be born :'), slept far too little after getting home, and that's... kinda it. What kind of phone do you have? It's literally a Tracfone, BUT WAIT! I actually wanted it, ha ha. Mom has one and it is *genuinely* a good phone, so I got one for my birthday. Hell, it's cheaper than paying monthly, so I'm fine with it. When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings? 5 in the morning when we were all still with Ashley. Do you like fire? Sure, I like watching it. Have you ever been to a spa? Noooo, not my jam. Do you know how to do a cartwheel? No. Who’s the funniest drunk person you know? Ehhhhh. When he drank, my dad was either hilarious when drunk or hateful and short-fused as fuck. 50/50 shot. But yeah, if you got Version 1, he'd crack anyone the hell up. Now that he's sober and happy he's always like that. What would you do if your partner still kept pictures of their ex? Well, I'd say it depends on the picture's context. Like, a picture of you two kissing, then I'd be uncomfortable as shit. If you have prom pictures or stuff like that but don't like go looking through them regularly, idc. It was a special event. What if your partner went through your cellphone? BYE, CUNT. What if your partner was flirting with another girl/boy? BYE, CUNT. Is there really a difference between Coke and Pepsi? YES. I can absolutely taste it. Pepsi sucks. Are there any mistakes with your recent ex you wish you could have changed? Stupid and/or impulsive shit I'd said, sure, but for the most part, no. We had a good relationship. Has anyone ever been with you while you were throwing up? My mom always is if she's present. I am terrified of vomiting and even at my age still want her there, even though she can't do anything, obviously. I turn into a baby when I'm about to throw up. Background on your computer? My favorite picture of Teddy. Who has hurt you the most? Jason. Or hell, my own head, idk. Are you happy with where you are relationship-wise now? Sure. What language do you want to learn? I wanna be fluent in German. Who’s the last person that came to your house? A family friend. Is there anyone you would like to fight? God no. I'm not a fighter. Who did you dance with last? Sara. Who is your best friend(s)? Sara. Song playing? "It's A Raid" by Ozzy feat. Post Malone. The album's out T O D A Y , B O Y S. Who is your arch-enemy? I don't have one. What's the most attractive thing on the opposite sex? GODDAMN shoulderBLADES Do you want platinum or gold for your wedding band? Not normal gold, I know. Rose gold is my ideal one, but I really don't care much. Have you ever paid to have your eyebrows waxed? I mean my mom has, seeing as I didn't have an income then, either. Got that done regularly in high school. Not because I asked, but because it was just "normal" since my two sisters did it, too. Do you think that the tobacco companies should pay for people’s medical bills? No, it's not their choice to use the product. Sure, they're making it, but it's really too late to cease production of tobacco. It'd be catastrophic in terms of the job industry. Do you curse in average conversations? Yes; I have to actually make an effort to not curse if needed. Have you ever bought a shot glass? No. Do you have a therapist? Not anymore after my previous one that I loved and trusted gave me every reason to break her jaw. I kind of want another one, but also don't. I'm supposed to, considering my history and that I'm on a lot of medication, but I just do nooooot want to go through the whole trust process again. Do you ever fall for spam mail? No. What color do you wear the most? Black. Do you only eat cough drops because you like the taste? No. Have your parents ever walked in on you having sex? No. Do you like getting stoned? I've never been so and aren't interested in ever getting there. Have you ever gotten a bloody nose from snorting cocaine? YOIKES THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY lol no, I wouldn't touch coke with a ten-foot pole. Red, white, yellow, or pink roses? Pink. What’s the worst name your mom has ever called you? I don't know. She hasn't called me anything too awful that I know of. Have you ever done acid? No. Were you at a rave? Never been, definitely not my scene. Do you post pictures where you look good but your friends look bad? Well, I don't hang out with like... anyone, so, lmao. But I wouldn't. Are you friends with any of your exes? Yes. Would you ever dye your hair pink? ACTUALLY! Pastel pink is on my list. I tested some soft colors out in Photoshop on me and it actually looked really cute. I think I wanna be a smaller size first, though. Do you ever masturbate? I haven't since I came off that godawful birth control that drove me batshit insane in terms of libido. I still don't think it's a bad thing, my interest in that is just, gone. Are you embarrassed about your sex life or lack there of? No. Who’s the last person you said I love you to? My sister. Did you like your life when you were in middle school? Actually fuck middle school with a maul. If you went on American Idol, do you think you’d go through to Hollywood? Nope. Have you ever received an anonymous gift? No, I don't think so. What kind of laugh do you have? A loud and obnoxious one. Do you hoard anything? "Hoard" isn't the right word, no. Are you afraid of flying? I am, but I feel it's only a realistic apprehension. Especially going back and forth to Sara's a few times, you kinda have to get used to it. Most recent Facebook ‘like’? Shit man idk, I "like" a load of stuff. Have you ever camped out somewhere for an event the next day? No. Do you do anything regularly that could damage your body? Can someone please eliminate soda from the face of the earth???? What do you love most in the world? Those closest to me. What woke you up this morning? Ugh, the sun. I need to put my curtain back up after Roman tore it down. Who was the last person you rode in a car with? My mom. Is anything bothering you? There's always *something* bothering me to some degree, but nothing seriously at the moment. Are you in a good mood? My niece was born overnight and is gorgeous and healthy so I have to be. :') When were you the saddest in your life? 2016. Do you own more than one cell phone? Ha ha, I have two old ones. One I used for pictures because the camera was good, and the most recent old one, I just need to get some pictures and contacts from... but I'm lazy. Have you ever had a song written about you? No. What songs make you happy? Depends on what I'm feeling. Next concert? No clue now that Ozzy had to cancel his, bless his old heart. As a child, did you ever get the chance to go to Disney World/Disneyland? Yes. When was the last time you fought with your significant other, if any? I’m single. Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you? No, thankfully. When was the last time you were on a boat? Where did you travel on it? Not since I went fishing with my old best friend a few years back. We were just in a pond. Are you planning on going anywhere with someone, some time today? Probably not. Do you like cereal? What would you consider your favorite kind of cereal? Hell yeah. Cinnamon Toast Crunch is *maybe* my favorite? Idk, I like a lot. Are there any people you don’t like for your significant other/crush to talk to? This doesn't apply to me, but even if I had one, they're not my damn child. I'm not gonna police whom they talk to. I mean I guess there are exceptions, like, talking to a drug dealer to name one, but talking to most people, that's their business. Just don't hide it from me. Have you ever forgotten your birthday? Did you soon figure it out? No. What color are the curtains in your room if you have any at the moment? Maroon. Is there anyone you are currently trying to get out of trouble? Why? No. Have you ever wanted your significant other to get rid of a friend? Well, calling back to that other question, there was one in a previous relationship that I really couldn't stand, but it wound up working out. If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? It's just me and Ma now. Do you ever go to Blockbuster? How frequently would you say you go? WHAT A CALLBACK!!!!! Omg did I love BB. Went like every weekend to rent a game, and sometimes we'd go there Fridays before a sleepover to grab a movie. Do you ever listen to music so you can actually change your emotion? Sure, sometimes.

#survey #quiz #questions #random #bored

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shels-kpop-main · 6 years ago

Text

Moments, part 11

Word Count: 3146

Warnings: None. A little angst and fluff so soft

A/N: Please let me know what you guys think! Things will be heating up in the next chapter, but I had to get this last bit of fluff out of my system. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, send me an ask!

You stayed in Roger’s room the rest of the night, leaving only to retrieve the plate of food from the living room table. Upon returning with it, you set it on the bed between yourself and Roger, and the two of you shared it. After eating, the two of you stayed up talking for several hours. When you finally reached for Roger’s wrist to check the time, it was almost one in the morning.

But you didn’t leave. You just wove your fingers through Roger’s, and laid over. He did the same, and you fell asleep there. Curled up and facing each other, with your hands meeting in the middle.

You woke up to bright sunlight coming in through the window. You were still laying above the covers, but a wool blanket had been thrown over you and tucked under your feet. Your hand, previously holding onto Roger’s, was now loosely curled around his collar, the backs of your fingers pressed to his chest. You inhaled deeply, still half-asleep, but awake enough to appreciate being surrounded by things that smelled like Roger. Including Roger, who was still sound asleep across from you.

He had an arm draped over your waist, and the other rested next to his face on the pillow. You slowly pulled your hand from his shirt and touched his cheek instead. His face was warm to the touch, and smooth. You brushed your thumb softly from side to side, and this was enough to stir Roger a little. He opened his eyes slowly, only about halfway. His hand pressed to your back a little more firmly as he smiled.

“Morning, love.” His voice was husky from sleep, but it was offset by the look in his eyes. You twirled a strand of his hair between your fingers, and scooted a little closer to him.

“Good morning.”

The two of you stayed there for a few minutes, before you got up to go change. You smiled at Roger’s groans of complaint when you rolled out of bed. When you emerged from his room, still wearing your clothes from the night before, you looked down the hallway before hurrying up the stairs. The house was quiet, and it seemed that everyone had gone downstairs for breakfast already.

Which was good; you didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. God forbid someone see you coming out of Roger’s room in your clothes from the previous day and think you’d slept with him. It wasn’t anyone’s business, but knowing the guys, they’d tease you both out of the county for getting caught on a walk of shame.

The following week passed in a blur of messily-written new songs, a fresh series of photo prints, and many, many stolen kisses from Roger. He’d often pull you aside after dinner to press a trail of kisses from your mouth to the collar of your shirt. If Roger ducked outside for a smoke break during recording sessions, you’d grab him by the chin and pull his mouth to yours.

You’d somehow managed to never be found during these moments aside, but the guys weren’t stupid. They noticed the light smear of lipstick on Roger’s mouth when he came back inside. They noticed the looks you two shared over the dinner table. But you didn’t care. Being around Roger was the closest thing you had ever experienced to happiness with another person.

And however much you didn’t care, Roger cared even less. He mentioned your photography to the guys frequently, telling them about a particularly good (“bloody brilliant, you guys!”) shot you’d taken during rehearsals. He asked Deacy for advice on how to formally ask you out, to which Deacy rolled his eyes but told Roger everything he had done successfully with Veronica.

So, five days after he first kissed you by the fence outside the farm, Roger came to your door with another bouquet of dahlias.

“These are beautiful, Roger. Thank you.”

You beamed at the pretty, pink blooms in Roger’s hand and leaned in to kiss him. He accepted the kiss gratefully, immediately leaning down to you. You fidgeted with his collar, reveling in the sweet and smoky taste that you’d come to associate with Roger. You pulled away to take the flowers to the vase atop your dresser, smiling to yourself.

Roger closed the door behind him while you fiddled with the flowers. When you turned back to him, he was running a hair through his hair nervously.

“Something on your mind?” You raised an eyebrow and walked back over to him. Roger let out a breath, and shoved his hands in his pockets. His body language was starting to make you nervous, and you folded your arms.

“Yes, actually. I, uh… Whew, sorry,” Roger chuckled nervously. You must have looked concerned, but Roger’s face softened, he quickly reached forward to rub your arms.

“Everything’s alright, love,” he assured you, hands settled at your elbows. You gave him a half-hearted smile, still afraid of what he might say next.

“I just haven’t done this in a while with someone I care about,” Roger explained. You were just confused at that point, and waited for him to finish. His hands fell back to his sides.

“I, uh… I wanted to know if you’d like to go to dinner with me?” Roger rushed through the last few words, and it took you a moment to process what he said. But then, when his words hit you, you burst out laughing out of sheer relief. Roger gave you a confused frown, his eyebrows slanting with concern. You placed a hand on your chest, as if to steady your rapidly-beating heart. But then you flung your arms around his neck and kissed him fully.

“Roger Taylor,” you laughed, pulling away, “you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“What, what’d I do?” Roger smiled a little, putting his arms around your waist. You shook your head, grinning up at him.

“You got all serious, and scared me!” You answered, giving him a light shove to the chest. Roger laughed, and a light blush came to his cheeks.

“Well, I was nervous! Been a moment since I’ve properly asked a girl on a date!” Roger replied, pulling you closer. Your hands fell to his collar, as they often did when Roger was holding you close like that. It was cathartic, in a way, to play with the fabric while you talked to him. It was grounding for the both of you.

“Did you think I would say no?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. Roger shrugged, clasping his hands on the small of your back.

“Well, not necessarily,” he smirked. You shook your head at his cockiness, smiling coyly. But Roger became serious again, brows furrowing.

“So, is that a yes?”

You rolled your eyes, and moved your hands up to weave into his hair.

“Yes, Roger,” you kissed him, “I would love to go to dinner with you.”

So Roger took you into town the following night, insisting that you both dress up for your first date. It was incredibly endearing to watch his face light up when you came down the stairs in your only formal dress. It was a navy blue cocktail dress, and although it wasn’t your favorite look, it gave you great joy to see Roger’s mouth fall open. He fidgeted with his cuffs a little as you approached him, and the thought of this cool, arrogant rock star being nervous for a date made you smile.

Roger drove you to a swanky restaurant in town, telling you to wait while he jogged around the car to open your door for you. The meal went well, and the two of you stayed there, talking and drinking, until well after dark.

You were happy. You and Roger still hadn’t slept together, at his behest, but you hardly had time to be annoyed with him. The two of you spent your free time walking around the farm, arms around each other, talking about anything that came to mind. Late nights stretched into early mornings, with you and Roger usually falling asleep in your room.

At some point, Roger had brought his guitar up to your room, to play you a new song he was trying to write. You loved the song, but sleep overtook you as you lay sideways next to him while he played. Roger simply leaned his guitar against the chair your camera was sitting on, and laid down next to you, falling asleep shortly after.

But those idyllic days on the farm were numbered. And you both knew this. But still, you and Roger enjoyed the bucolic lifestyle that came with staying at the farm.

One day, as the completion of the album drew nearer, you were sitting in the studio box with your camera as the guys recorded in the live room. The phone next to the soundboard rang between takes, and the audio engineer reached over absentmindedly to pick up.

“H’llo? Uh-huh. Yeah, she’s right here.” And with that, the guy handed you the phone and returned to his work. You frowned, holding the receiver, unsure of who would be calling you. But when you pressed your ear to the phone, a familiar voice crackled across the line.

“Hello?”

“Oh, thank God. Why haven’t you called me?” Your mom sounded fretful. You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Hi, Mom.”

“It’s been two weeks since you’ve called. I was worried sick!”

“I’m sorry, Mom, it’s been crazy here. I didn’t mean to worry you. Did Uncle Jim tell you about my photography?” You attempted to deflect, but your mother was worked up, and ignored your question.

“And when are you coming home? You’ve been there for two months.”

“I don’t know, Mom. Wasn’t the whole point of staying here, to get away from everything?”

Your mom huffed out a sigh. “Well, yes, for a brief escape. Not to just move to England forever!” You rolled your eyes, already finding the conversation overlong.

“I’m not gonna be here forever,” you replied, exasperated. “It’s just that I’m waiting to hear back from the record company. The band’s manager wants to use my photos to promote the album, and they’re going to call any day. To tell me which pictures they want to use,” you trailed off, hoping your mom would appreciate the good news. But she was determined to be upset.

“Have you taken any classes?”

“I—well, no.”

“Gotten a job?”

“Potentially, weren’t you listening?” You were starting to get annoyed.

“It just seems too good to be true. If they like your pictures, what then? You just stay there, with the rock stars? Living in a dream, like you’ve been doing?”

For some reason, that statement really bothered you. Maybe you were just irritable at being faced with reality. Maybe it was the tone she took, or the way she worded it.

But you found yourself more determined than ever to make something of this getaway. Because your time on the farm had become meaningful to you. It wasn’t just an escape. You weren’t just living in a dream.

You were recovering.

Recovering from the shock you’d undergone at the loss of your dad. Recovering from the shift in your worldview. Recovering from the guilt you’d piled on yourself since that day in the hospital room with the beige floors.

“You know what,” you began, through gritted teeth. “It is like living in a dream. I have friends here now. I have Uncle Jim. I have—”

You looked up at that moment, to see Roger in the live room. He was saying something to Brian, a wide smile across his face. The sight of him brought you out of the haze of anger, and you experienced a splitting moment of clarity. No matter what, being here was worth it.

“I have everything I need here,” you finished, in a gentler tone. Mom exhaled, and you heard it, miles away, across the Atlantic.

“You’re living in a bubble, Y/N. Please come home.”

The sincerity of her tone caused you to falter. Your eyelids fluttered as you pulled your gaze away from Roger. He was joking with Freddie, who was doing a ridiculous pose on the drum risers.

“I will, Mom. When I’m ready.”

“Okay. I love you,” she replied, sounding defeated.

“I love you, too,” you said flatly, and hung up.

You had forgotten you weren’t alone until the sound engineer gave you a concerned side eye. You folded your arms.

“Sorry, Todd. Don’t tell anyone?”

The sound engineer named Todd nodded as he fiddled with the switches on the board. For all his stoicism, you were certain he could keep a secret.

“Thanks.” You left the building with tears in your eyes. Roger looked up toward the control room just as you picked up your camera. He could tell, even at a distance, that something was wrong. He knew your face well enough to tell that you were trying not to cry. You avoided looking at the guys as you exited the control room and ducked through the door without a word.

You were tired of being a mess in front of everyone, so you resolved yourself to sobbing out your frustrations in your bedroom.

Roger was staring at the door the entire time he played, even as the band finished recording their song. He wanted to go after you, but wasn’t sure if you wanted time alone. The guys noticed the funny look on his face, but didn’t say anything. When the session was wrapping up, Brian finally spoke up.

“What happened with Y/N?”

“God knows,” Freddie said, not really paying attention. He was still sitting at the piano, scribbling something on a loose piece of paper. “Anyone up for drinks in town?”

Roger ignored Fred’s question, looking from Brian, to Deacy, to the door you’d exited. Deacy had enough of Roger’s cluelessness, and broke the silence. “Oh for God’s sakes—go after her, Roger,” he told Roger, exasperated, pointing at the door. “See if she needs anything.”

“Right,” Roger responded quickly, rushing to get around his drums. Deacy rolled his eyes, but his heart was warm. Roger’s intentions were good, even if he needed a little encouragement sometimes. He found you in the attic, trying to fix something on your camera that wasn’t broken. By the time you walked to your room, the lump in your throat had disappeared. But you were still uneasy.

“Hey, love,” Roger’s soft voice hummed through the wide room.

“Not now, Roger.”

“Yes, now,” he insisted stubbornly. You frowned at him, still holding your camera.

“What happened?”

“My mom called.”

You were met with confused silence from Roger.

“She said I’m living in a dream, that I can’t stay here forever,” you sighed. It seemed this sentiment had not occurred to Roger either, and his face fell. But after a moment of thought, his eyes sparked.

“Maybe not, but that’s not the end of things. We can make it work,” he told you, looking hopeful and a little excited. You frowned at the floor, then at the Nikon in your hands. Before you realized what you were doing, you pulled the camera to your face. It created a barrier, gave you some control.

But through the lens, you saw Roger sigh and step nearer to you. He reached out and gently pushed the camera down, away from your face. You frowned, refusing to make eye contact.

“Don’t hide. You were so certain before. What happened to that?” His voice was low, gentle. It made you want to cry again.

“My mom,” you answered bitterly, looking him in the eyes. But Roger was confused, and stayed silent.

“She’s got a point, Rog. We’re living in a bubble. Eventually, I’m gonna have to go home, and you’re gonna have to tour.”

“Well, she’s half-correct,” Roger admitted. You frowned, unsure of his meaning. “You’re gonna have to go home at some point. And I’ve got the band. But,” he continued, pulling your camera out of your hands slowly. He set it down on the chair next to his guitar, then returned to you.

“That doesn’t mean we’re living in a bubble right now. This is happening.” He took your hands in his, squeezing them gently. You stared at his fingers, lost for words.

“Hey,” he pulled one hand away, and used it to tilt your chin up. The feeling of his fingers on your face sent tingles down your spine. You stared hard at him, trying not to be emotional.

“Please don’t be sad,” he urged. When you said nothing, Roger released your hands and crossed the room to your dresser. There, he smiled at the most recent flowers he’d given you. They sat in a blue vase, next to your pictures. But between them, sat an old radio. It was a little dusty, having gone unused in a house full of live music.

But Roger turned it on, and tuned it to the first clear station he could find. The small speakers crackled to life, filling the attic with a slow, bluesy song.

I’ve found my thrill On Blueberry Hill When I found you

“Dance with me,” Roger told you, holding out a hand and doing a ridiculous bow. You rolled your eyes, but felt the sting of anxiety fading. So you took his hand, and put your other arm around his neck. Roger was a decent dancer when he wasn’t trying to act a fool, and he guided you in slow circles across the room.

The moon stood still On Blueberry Hill And lingered until My dream came true

The lyrics were sweet, comforting. The melody, coupled with Roger’s fingers drumming softly on your waist, turned your mouth up at the corners. And, without warning, Roger began to sing along, swaying you side to side a little.

“For you were my thrill,” he sang, to your giggling. “On Blueberry Hill…”

You were smiling wide and bright by the time the song ended. Roger finished the dance with a small flourish, lifting your hand and urging you to do a small twirl. Which you did, much to his delight.

Roger grinned at you as he released your hand. You rubbed your arms, and stepped back to him. The next song began, an upbeat swing bop.

“Feel better?” He asked, looking genuinely hopeful. You rested your forehead against his shoulder, prompting him to wrap his arms around you in one of his characteristically comforting hugs.

“Yes,” you mumbled into his shirt. Roger kissed the side of your head, still tapping the beat of the last song onto your waist.

“Good.”

“Thank you,” you pulled back to look at him. Roger answered with a peck to your lips, and a wide grin.

“Any time, love. Can’t have my girl worried.”

Taglist:

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#moments series #moments part 11 #roger taylor #queen #roger taylor x reader #fluff #shut up shelby #ben hardy #bo rhap

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